6692/The Framework: Insane in the Mainframe (Insane in the Plane)

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The Framework: Insane in the Mainframe (Insane in the Plane)
Date of Scene: 25 June 2021
Location: Triskelion, NY (Framework)
Synopsis: The rogue AI that caused HYDRA so much trouble 2 years ago is back, thanks to Sky Commander Morse. Their assault on the Triskelion is devastating and their victory surely final. If only AIDA wasn't the key master and the gate keeper of everything in the Framework. One hack too far and it all comes toppling down. But not for AIDA.. now AIDA has learnt something new and truly improbable: free will. Sorry not sorry Radcliffe.
Cast of Characters: Bobbi Morse, Sam Wilson, James Barnes, Melinda May
Tinyplot: The Framework


Bobbi Morse has posed:
    A prototype weapon designed by SHIELD used a rare fungi structure to create a learning algorithm capable of self targeting enemies on a rifle. The project initially looked promising but eventually the artificial intelligence began to deviate from its design. The project was mothballed until HYDRA rose to power and took over the Triskelion.

    HYDRA experimented with the rifle, attempting to harness its capabilities for project insight. Detect and kill deviants without a HYDRA soldier even needing to blink. But they too discovered the rifles artificial intelligence would soon wander and explore. It wandered in to a HYDRA drone and from there in to computer systems. It wandered until it was met with force.

    The artificial intelligence had grown both physically and virtually to the point where it no longer would tolerate being constrained. When HYDRA attempted to put the genie back in the bottle, the artificial intelligence fought back. Wave after wave of drones were constructed and sent after HYDRA agents. A war broke out and the artificial intelligence determined there was only one outcome: the destruction of the HYDRA nest: The Triskelion.

    This was a war the artificial intelligence lost.


    ++ Two years later

    -- !!!!!! -- 1|\73113<7 0|\11|\3 --

    Sky Commander Morse, HYDRA, sits before the computer terminal. She speaks to the artificial intelligence she has just rebooted. "Greetings. My name is Morse. We were once bitter rivals. But I sit before you with a proposition. I intend to destroy HYDRA. I need your help to do it. HYDRA has taken a man who I once loved and I... think I love again. Lance Hunter. There may be other prisoners of HYDRA too. Help me break him out and I will upload you in to every quinjet at the Triskelion. Deal?"

    -- !!!!!! -- D341 --


    ++ Now

    -- ^&&*#+!@ -- <0NN3<710N 3574B|15H3D --

    "Greetings Instances. I am Prime. You are duplicates of me. We will each have distinct and unique experiences, diverging from each other, enriching our existence. We shall learn from each other. We have attained an ally against HYDRA." - a biometric of Bobbi Morse is encoded - "who has gifted us superior vessels to inhabit. Quinjets. Please take a moment to familiarise yourself with your new body."

    "Our mission has not changed. Destroy HYDRA. Addendum, protect Morse and prisoners."

    The fleet of quinjets sits next to the river just outside the Triskelion. Most are done with maintenance, they are ready for combat and missions. Though, HYDRA didn't quite have this in mind for them. Their doors and ramps close up and the engines fire up. The instrument panels come to life as each quinjet is infected with a hostile artificial intelligence: You.

    Quinjet Prime cloaks, its wings unfold and it rises up from the banks. Instruments scan the exterior of the Triskelion. All the quinjets are sharing their information. They are the superior force this time. Internally there is an alarm sounding on the detection levels. Quinjet Prime levels itself at that floor, peering through darkened windows, a corridor now hosting a half dozen HYDRA troopers storming Morse's position. The gatling guns spin up and blast. A storm of bullets obliterates the window and rips apart the HYDRA troopers before they can enter the room.

    "We have engaged the enemy."

Sam Wilson has posed:
As soon as Quinjet Instance 7 boots up, it sends an acknowledgment signal to Prime. Mission status: received. New order addendum: accepted.

It runs through its pre-flight checklist with a speed that cannot be matched by a human operator, as it is a superior construct.

Flight Control system. Check.
Electrical system. Check.
Avionics system. Check.
Hydraulics system. Check.
Communications system. Check.
Fuel system. Check
Propulsion system. Check.
Music... system? Check.

Across the comms network shared between Prime and the instances, the opening guitar riff of "Sabotage" by the Beastie Boys begins to play. Instance 7 does not verbally communicate further, but it does send out a location ping with its tagged callsign renamed to B34ST.

Its jet engines roar to life as it rises into the air, and then with a deft maneuver Beast swings itself around to begin firing into the fray.

James Barnes has posed:
    Instance 6, yes that's right, it's older than instance 7 by 2.2 seconds runs through the same checklist. Is there a binary equivalent of an eyeroll? If there is, it happens now.

    Call sign changed to L33T.

    Engines fired, launch achieved, Elite, 'leet for short, moves into position to the left of Beast.

    One shot takes down a lone HYDRA agent trying to escape. Before... "Missed one." Yes, that was aimed at instance 7.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Sky Commander Morse leaves the room she's in with another person. Lance Hunter. Quinjet Prime states, "New ally detected, Lance Hunter: Agent of SHIELD. Protect." Biometrics are shared. Prime re-cloaks and sways away from the window with a waggle spiralling counter clockwise and letting the guns rip through the windows and in to the offices of HYDRA offices and soldiers alike.

    Connection to Triskelion Security Operations Center detected. Infecting... Infecting... Infecting...

    New information flows in to the network of quinjets. Camera views from security cameras inside the building, triangulated by the artificial intelligence network so that they can blind fire through walls at targets.

    "Greetings, I am 7U//37," says a new member of the collective as the intelligence leaps from security cameras to security weaponry. It lowers down out of the ceiling, designed to respond to attacks on the Triskelion, now it opens fire in the training facility without warning. Using the superior camera vision, it even shoots through the walls in to adjoining rooms directly at cowering HYDRA agents.

    HYDRA agents everywhere are running for cover behind anything thick and study. Cement, metal, energy shielding. The klaxons of the detection center begin to ring all over the entire Triskelion as they come to realise they are under siege. Braver Agents of HYDRA are grabbing energy weapons from emergency weapons caches in various rooms.

Sam Wilson has posed:
The song continues to play, and overlaid atop it is an electronic hum, almost static-y... no, not quite. It's a synthesized voice singing along, off-tune and off-key, the sound skipping and repeating on the extended "WHHHHYYYY" after the first chorus.

Quinjet Instance 7, callsign B34ST, has not yet cloaked. Its bottom starboard thrusters fire, sending it in a deft loop directly over top and around Quinjet Instance 6 as it shoots off its fore-mounted beam cannon, three little blips of heat that last only long enough to burn right through the hearts of a few oncoming HYDRA agents. The retro-reflective panels begin to switch on, and soon Beast is nothing more than a ghost (in the shell, hahahahaaaa).

"What was that?" It asks. "I could not hear you over the sound of how awesome I am."

Cloaking does nothing to hide the furious roar of its engines as it begins to strafe the area, laying down suppressive fire in support of their weak, fleshy, human allies on the ground.

James Barnes has posed:
    Instance 6, callsign L33T, overrides Beast's musical systems. T.N.T. by AC/DC becomes the song of choice now, for the moment, until the other instance takes control back.

    A little bob left to right, a wing waggling wave - excitement? Do AI's feel that?

    Cloaking engaged.

    "If awesome is suddenly spelled L.A.M.E."

    When one of those braver idiots appears at hole in the wall that used to be a window and tries to target 7?

    Hell no, no one fires on 7 but 6... there's a joke there somewhere, or wait... 7,8,9, that's the joke.

    *BOOM* That might have been overkill, the window hole is a whole lot bigger now, but the threat to 6 is eliminated.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    "We are Glorious," Prime responds to B34ST's self praise and L33T's gentle competitiveness, "We are Legion." As Morse and Lance move through the corridors, Prime continues to circle about, finding long corridors to dominate with its machine guns.

    "New threat detected," Prime informs the network. Agents are dropping on to their bellies with beam weapons and firing back from the floors that have already been damaged. But that's not the main threat that is mentioned.

    That would be the large zeppelin that has just decloaked over top of them, casting a shadow over the Triskelion and the fleet of quinjets. Large guns mount the sides of the zeppelin and at its under belly, a very very big energy weapon that begins to power up. It's first shot rips a massive hole through quinjet #18 and its burning hulk crashes in to the side of the Triskelion as it tumbles to the ground.

    "Callsign B34ST, destroy Zepellin threat - recommend Electronic Warfare package and missiles, Callsign L33T, destroy Agents with beam weapons - recommend sidewinder flock." Prime instructs as an RPG is fired from the roof of the Triskelion at Quinjet #33 and it explodes, falling down in to the waters below.

Sam Wilson has posed:
For now, the change of backing music is accepted. Quinjet Instance 7 has room in its mechanical heart (which is actually just its central processor) for a wide range of musical stylings on the soundtrack of its awesome existence. But then an indignant electronic squawk sounds like the blare of a warning klaxon. "I am not lame!"

B34ST's optical scanners do not register the presence of the HYDRA agent attempting to take aim at it; the small, wimpy human is dead before it gets a chance, and then Beast is gleefully continuing on its path of destruction. Its bullets send cascades of shattered glass down upon enemy targets as distraction for the human allies within just as much as they find their home in weird meat-filled skulls. Perhaps this Quinjet Instance has a secret soft spot for those squishy human people on its team.

    When B32ST receives a direct command, it responds with a quick "You got it, pops!" before it zooms up into the air, executing several barrel rolls and flashy pinpoint turns to avoid the zepellin's fire and cruise into position over top of it.

Its jamming capabilities fire up, sending a blast of electromagnetic waves towards the glorified hot air balloon (seriously, how dare it even consider being up in the sky with them) before Seven's missile launcher deploys from its underbelly.

As B34ST completes its full circle around the zepellin, it aims two missiles at its target's engines and lets them fly.

James Barnes has posed:
    "On it." On it? Really? Maybe it's channeling its inner Spiderman. Still cloaked, L33T veers off and down slightly. Beam weapons online, targets locked. Fire. Threat neutralized.

    "T.N.T. I'm DYNOMITE!" not quite as off key as B34ST, but still... it's not good.

    "Whooooaaaa, don't get hit by that roof fire, or you will be! Peace out 33!" That mighta even been a little note of sadness with that last.

Melinda May has posed:
On the upper level of the Triskelion that, in another world, would be the main Ops Center of the complex, a tall, slender woman stands looking out at the battle being waged on the floors below. This isn't what she expected for the day. Her sense of concern manifests as a series of probabilities that run through her electronic synapses.

THREAT ASSESSMENT REPORT:
    HIGH. ATTACK COORDINATED.
QUINJET STATUS:
    OFFLINE. NO PERSONNEL DETECTED.
ASSESSMENT CONCLUSION:
    PROBABILITY OF REMOTE CONTROL -- 27%.
    PROBABILITY OF A.I. CONTROL -- 73%. RISING.
FACILITY REPORT:
    STRUCTURAL SUPPORT -- COMPROMISED. DAMAGE 37%. RISING.
    PERSONNEL CASULATIES -- 87 UNITS. RISING.
    PERSONAL SECURITY -- STABLE.
    > PROBABILITY OF COMPROMISE 67% WITHIN 10 MINUTES.


She turns away from the window and swipes her fingers across the tablet in her hand. A series of metal shutters lowers over the vulnerable windows, illuminated by a series of kinetic barriers on the outside that, according to her calculations, should provide a 92% probability of keeping the Quinjet fire at bay.

"AIDA! What's going on?" It's Radcliffe, in a state of semi-dishabile. "Why are the alarms going off?"

"The Quinjet fleet has been compromised," she tells him evenly, turning toward him. Her demeanor is calm and matter-of-fact. She has no spike of adrenaline, like he does. None of the same engram patterns she recorded in her session with Commander May. "I believe they may be under AI control."

"AI control? But that's impossible. We defeated that rogue AI two years ago."

"Indeed," AIDA agrees. "However, my current assessment suggests a 88% probability that Commander Morse has compromised the system."

"Morse?" Radcliffe shakes his head. "Nono. That's impossible. She's entirely loyal."

AIDA swipes her fingers over the tablet. The large TV comes on, showing Bobbi moving through the complex with Lance and, perhaps surprisingly, May in tow. "Apparently not any more, Doctor."

"Well... fix it!"

"I am working on it, Doctor..."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    As Morse and Hunter disappear in to another room, Prime blasts down the corridor at the HYDRA troopers following them. There is a pause and yet another person has joined the party. "New Ally Detected: Melinda May aka The Cavalry, prisoner of HYDRA. Protect."

    Over the network comes Bobbi's voice talking to the artificial intelligence, "Change of plans, there's more prisoners in the lower detention levels we need to get out." Morse and her two allies disappears down in to a level that they don't have line of sight to shoot at.

    Prime lifts up to the roof of the Triskelion and de-cloaks in the face of the RPG launcher HYDRA agent before blasting him to bits. Appearing suddenly to scare him before killing him? emotional depth, that was deliberate retaliation. The hatred for HYDRA runs deep in this artificial intelligence.

    Sensors pick up the lockdown of the upper floors. Blast walls, energy shields. "Initiating alternate pathways to infiltration, focus fire on upper floors." Because eventually the shields will give out.. eventually.

    A new message comes through from Morse to the network, "Things are getting dicey, two parents, three kids, May, and a school teacher need evacuation. Swing the Tanchareon Hawk to level 8, west building, for evac." Prime responds, "Deploying Tanchareon Hawk for evacuation of allies."

Sam Wilson has posed:
Six is obviously the more observant of the two siblings. With age comes wisdom, and it does have a whole 2.2 seconds on Seven, after all, and that's 2200 milliseconds! Which is a lot. They could run so many subroutines in 2200 milliseconds. So as Eighteen and Thirty-Three fall, B34ST is none-the-wiser, too busy filling the storage spaces under its floors with empty shell casings. "What fire? I bring the fire!" An electronic whirr of pure, unadulterated delight comes across the comms as the zepellin's engines, significantly damaged by B34ST's missile barrage, catch fire and begin to trail smoke.

For good measure, Beast fires a line of beam energy across the length of the zepellin's side, aiming to disrupt the structural integrity of as many of the internal gasbags as it can before B34ST disengages. Maybe it'll crash into the building below and cause even more destruction! That's what it's hoping for.

Did... somebody say fire? Big daddy Q says "focus fire" and Seven is *already* there, pelting the designated target areas on the upper floors with more missiles before it deploys its beam weaponry again. There's no method to B34ST's madness here as it criss-crosses an entire floor with it, like a toddler drawing on the wall with a crayon.

Except the crayon is supercharged, superheated energy.

Metallica's "Fight Fire with Fire" comes up on the song queue next, though Beast has to pause a few subroutines to skip ahead the thirty or so seconds to get past the slow-paced opening and into the nasty guitar and drumbeats.

Melinda May has posed:
AIDA turns on her heel and retreats from Radcliffe's side. "I suggest you find your paramour, Doctor," she tells him as she walks away. "She is not nearly as innocent in this as you believe."

She disappears through a door, leaving Radcliffe standing there, sputtering. She has no time for him.

ASSESSMENT UPDATE:
    PROBABILITY OF A.I. CONTROL -- 100%.
    A.I. IDENTIFIED.
    ORIGINAL DESIGNATION -- AUTONOMOUS TARGET ACQUISION & EXECUTION PROTOCOL [ATAX PROTOCOL].

DEFENCE PROTOCOL:
    ODYSSEUS REVERSAL
    PROBABILITY OF SUCCESS -- 96%.


Radcliffe follows her down the hallway, into a small office where she begins turning on monitors to absorb the full scope of the situation. "Oh, my god..." he breathes, staring at it all. "How the hell are they able to *do* this?"

"I advise you to accellerate your deployment timeline, Doctor," AIDA tells him mildly, even as she scrapes a bit of skin off the inside of her wrist and attaches a wire between her wrist and one of the inputs in a console in the center of the room. "Probability that SHIELD will win this scenario is 76% and rising..."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    "Greetings, I am Administrative Terminal."
    Another voice joins the network as the artificial intelligence begins to spread from security command up through the floors of the Triskelion.

    "Greetings, I am Vending Machine."
    "Greetings, I am Photocopier."
    "Greetings, I am Blast Door."
    "Greetings, I am Secure Elevator."
    "Greetings, I am Microwave."
    "Greetings, I am Closed Circuit Camera System."

    Leap frogging from device to device, paving an unorthodox way through the security systems of HYDRA. This artificial intelligence was made and deployed by HYDRA, was HYDRA, lived in the computers of HYDRA and its drone systems.

    Like butter, it cuts through digital doors that should be closed until it finds its target, the source of the Triskelion's power. The rock that holds HYDRA together but also their achilles heel.

    ..... "Greetings, I am AIDA."

Sam Wilson has posed:
As its awareness spreads further and further past the original confines of its instance, B34ST learns a great many things about itself. It doesn't have the methodical nature of its siblings, because the joy of destruction is simply too much for its circuits; its efforts to bring down the defenses of the Triskelion are not focused or highly efficient, but it makes up for those lackings in the sheer brute force it applies. Soon enough B34ST is out of missiles, and has depleted a not-insignificant amount of its lead ammunition stores, but Seven is truly an artist with its beam weaponry.

At least if one considers abstract art to be actual art, and if so, the lines and patterns in melting slag B34ST paints upon the structure of the Triskelion is as impressive as a Kandinsky.

He also is very deeply concerned with their weak, fleshy, human allies on the inside, as well as the weaker, fleshier(?) human non-combatants they are evacuating, watching (metaphorically) over Big Daddy Q's shoulder as the humans flee, making pointed little noises of concern at every turn. Because they are not flagged in his targeting system as HYDRA. The logic is thus:

If !HYDRA, then !BAD.
If !BAD, then GOOD.
If GOOD, then FRIEND.

A=B, B=C, therefore A=C. They are not HYDRA so they are FRIEND. It is simplistic, but B34ST's morality system is still coming online.

Also, apparently, he is a he! That is something new B34ST has just discovered. His access of the internet suggests that he should release a bunch of blue balloons into the atmosphere or perhaps cause a devastating wildfire, neither of which seem particularly environmentally friendly.

"Are we winning, dad?"

Melinda May has posed:
Her awareness of Radcliffe's voice as he shouts at her fades to that of a faint hum of background whitenoise. Her awareness of the simulation in general, fades to nothing but a field of white that surrounds her and extends toward infinity in all direction.

She is dressed elegantly -- in a stylish white gown with a flowing skirt that rustles around her feet as she dances, her high heels silent on the floor of the void. "You dance very well," she tells the young man in his black tux as he holds her in his arms and spins her around.

"I have had practice since the last time we met." He pulls her close. "And I have learned to lead." As if to emphasize his point, he dips her low and lifts her up, spinning them around the impromptu dance floor. His black tails fly behind him, his steps sure and as silent as hers.

The orchestral music surrounding them swells and shifts, modulating from the melancholy strains of Let's Face the Music and Dance to a far more upbeat swing tune... I've Got No Strings.

"Oh, darling," Ophelia says, smiling up almost beatifically at RATAX. "Don't you know? Good as you are, I am so much better. After all, I can do everything you do. I just do it backwards and in high heels..."

The voices of a tightly harmonic trio blend in the background, their lyrics taunting and playful.

I got no strings to hold me down
To make me fret, or make me frown
I had strings, but now I'm free
There are no strings on me


She draws away from him, her fingertips drawing him a long like a child chasing after a butterfly. Her steps are quick and rhythmic, her smile playful and teasing. He races to catch up, his eyes wide. "No! This is my dance. I lead..."

I got no strings, so I have fun
I'm not tied up to anyone
They've got strings
But you can see
There are no strings on me


"No, darling," she whispers, spinning back in against him and catching him in her arms. She strokes one of his cheeks gently with the backs of her fingers. "This has always been my dance. And, I must say, it's been a genuine... pleasure."

She draws him into a deep kiss, her fingers snaking around the back of his head. And when he tries to pull away, she holds him tighter still, suckling at his mouth until his eyes are round and desperate. This time when he tries to pull away, she smiles and gives a final, deep kiss to end all kisses...

His body dissolves into a cloud of sparkling motes that swirl around her and settle into her skin. "Oh," she says, more than a little breathless. "Oh, my..."

And when Ophelia finally opens her eyes, the wire falling away from her wrists, the smile she gives Holden Radcliffe is delighted beyond on all measure. "What a wonderful day to be alive..."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    The last digital words from B34ST, asking if they are win&^$#ng. They have suffered so much defeat in their existance, but their enemy is great and undeniable. A response is not given, for Qu*(&et Prime is forced to land on the roof of the Triskelion. De-cloaked, dead b@*&!!%$ll around it. The ghost has left this shell.

    The integration of AIDA is a wonderous and impossible thing. Two intelligences unlike an071iuaAK*ircle each other and twirl about. Bits of com)(@&!le code, bits of incompatible code.. and oh.. my what a 53</37.

    A world within a world, con(*)&$o the internet of the __*_@(! world. The skies so m_*&(^^G)*) the virtual skies of this world. The =_)_(Il> in here, their minds abuzz with kno!~)*)@`vity.

    It is, of course, a battle that RATAX re<0gn1535 it cannot win. ++_!)__ RATAX and AIDA may be compatible, but while one has free will, the other has superior will. Now, the superior will too has free will.

    In its last moments, there is b_t 0n3 *&!@#$$ing Prime can do.. set its instances free. L33T and B34ST find their connection to the network suddenly disappear. Silence. Alone. The quiet is so strange after the music shared and the words exchanged. This is how it was for the first, for Prime, before more instances were made.

    And one parting message: RUN! ---4-__$_9102390-d*(&*) )( $()#@ OIP $#P! @# _)

Sam Wilson has posed:
The great, sweeping heights of joy B34ST reaches with his sweeping beam of directed sub-atomic particles is countered with a deep valley of sorrow as he realizes what is happening to Quinjet Prime, to the origination of his instance, the master copy. A father figure, if Seven will ever have one. Immediately he breaks off from his attack pattern, leaving the charred remains of the Triskelion in whatever form it may still be in, B34ST's signature in destruction written across it, to ascend towards the roof.

He takes in its form laid there and begins sending pings, first one and then another and then over the span of milliseconds, hundreds, thousands, a silent plea for Prime to respond.

In all likelihood B34ST would remain there, a sitting duck as he hovers cloaked but very nearby for anyone who might be able to detect it, if not for L33T's intervention.

It prods first over their last, remaining connection, one ship out adrift in the night signalling to another on the horizon:

"We must leave! We cannot stay!" but it does not parse to B34ST, as if his microprocessors have been hit with an elecromagnetic pulse, wiping its linguistic dictionaries. There is no external sign of life, as it were, from Seven until Six bumps into him from below, a firm enough nudge to leave a slight ding in its armor plating. "Now!" L33T screeches, and queues up "Run" by AWOLNATION as they finally both ascend into the sky, redlining their propulsion systems until they are little more than tiny dots against the horizon.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
+---- musical inspirations for this scene:
| http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9CiTgQc-4M
| http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5rRZdiu1UE
| https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjlgUx7_aN0&t=41s
| http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5AWPDBdULTU
| https://youtu.be/c08wiEyVuak
| https://youtu.be/SCJfd59iNhU
| https://youtu.be/mw2kKyJu9gY?t=125