Chapter Text
Indigo woke up slowly, blinking away the crust that developed around her(their? His? His.) his eyes. Throwing his layers of fluffy weighted blankets off his chest, he haphazardly felt in the dark along the cold floor for his spare binder. Putting it on, he slowly trudged over to the screen built in the wall, tapping it to turn on the lights. He looked around the laboratory of his homemade space cruiser, seeing nothing out of the ordinary as he mindlessly tapped away at the screen, turning on the systems needed to get him a nice warm Mocha.
It’s been a week since Indigo moved his mattress from its nice supporting frame to the cold floor of the lab, and while his(hmm. Still doesn’t feel right. Their?)their productivity has improved immensely(yeah they is right for now), their living standards has dropped considerably. Admittedly, they weren’t living great already back when they still lived on a planet. It was worth it, however, in Indigos mind, as they looked upon their creation, which took up the majority of the center of the lab.
Standing over 7 feet tall, hundreds of thousands of metal wires and vines of varying thickness coiled and wrapped around each other in the shape of a large alien like body that appeared vaguely feminine in shape. Each of these vines had specialized pneumatic features that would allow it to rival the strength and speed of even the oldest of those damn Affini. Within those constricting vines Indigo knew lie plenty of injectors of varying styles, all connected to the built in Compactor they had stolen borrowed from their old hab, along with its AI. The AI and this compiler were fused together in an Imitation of an Affini’s “core” or whatever they were according to the Overnet. Along with the core, several speakers were added for the ability for Indigo to listen to their favorite music as they piloted the metal imitation of the conquerors of their species. On the “face” of the mech sat advanced LEDs, able to perfectly recreate an Affinis hypnotizing gaze. Indigo debated on making it actually able to hypnotize, but they figured it would be worth it if they had to deal with other species in the cosmos. Indigo smiled. Their Magnum Opus was almost complete. Then, they could truly be free.
Indigo, by human standards, was what some would consider to be the stereotypical mad genius. Not many knew about them, even before the Compact came in with their stupid treaty, as they were already hiding from the Accord. All of their genius cloaking technology proved fruitless when faced with the overwhelming technological superiority of the Affini, however.
Indigo bit back a curse. The damn Affini. They had it so good before they appeared! They could eat whatever, sleep as little as they liked, and were able to set up a very convincing set that looked exactly like the laboratory of their favorite old Terran movie, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. But then, when the Affini showed up, they had all these “suggestions”, as if THEY knew better the one of the greatest minds of Indigo’s generation. “Humans need at least 9 hours of rest indigo” they had been getting along with 4, thank you very much! “4 breakfast sandwiches in a row can’t be healthy for every day indigo” but they were in great shape thanks to their challenging work environment! “You shouldn’t be jumping over a pool of acid just to do your hobbies, indigo” ITS FOR THE AESTHETIC YOU PLANT THINGS!!!!!!
Indigo stewed over that memory of the poor Affini that was sent to do a “wellness check” or whatever it was they called it. It was obviously a poor attempt of the aliens trying to spy into their life, and to subject them to their archaic order of “master” and “floret” or whatever it was they called their “pets”. The only thing Indigo couldn’t stay mad at them for was that blessed advancement that was the Overnet. Even now, on their own private ship, they still used it to keep the code of the compiler up to date. It seems that even the far off futuristic technology on the Affini still needed systematic updates, they mused. Suddenly, a loud *Twang!* could be heard and felt throughout the ship, followed by what sounded suspiciously like the interior of a Terran vehicle when driving through a hailstorm. Looking back as the screen they could see flashing red signals, alerting Indigo that the autopilot has ever so gracefully wandered into an asteroid belt. “Shit, Shit, Shit-“ they repeated as they exited the lab, running to the control room.
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Meanwhile, on an Affini Ship thousands of miles away, there was an update being prepared. It was a simple update, really; just adding more languages and accents to the voices of every Terran hub ai. And for everyone else, it was a simple update. The speed of its processing went by in a flash for 99% of all the hab AI’s.
All of them except for one.
Indigo’s stolen Hab AI, which has in its very short term as a semi-sentient artificial intelligence, seen itself torn from the hardware of a home and quite cleverly but also messily put into a metallic body resembling one of its creators. In that time, it learned to understand the sophont in its care, to know Indigo on a personal level so that it may be able to service them, even if the Compiler was considerably smaller. It gained knowledge of the body it inhabited from the long rants Indigo made, gushing over its every ability that would perfectly match an Affini. It even had access to the ships data and software thanks to the universal connection made via the Overnet.
And now, this singular update will set off a chain of events that, if a particular genderfluid mad genius were in the room, might have been able to stop.
They were not.
The lab saw a brief flash of sparks from the mechanical body as the update ran through, and the Hab AI was no longer.
The head LEDs turned on, revealing a pair of Purple Colored Iris surrounded by a Galaxy.
Celastrus Artificae, Bloom 1.0, was born.