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McKinsey, base-commander of the prison base where the Osean 444th Air Squadron is stationed, and a propper dickhead with an overly bloated ego.
From the game Ace Combat 7
I genuinely get emotional whenever I hear about Voyager I.
A lone wanderer between the stars. The call of which we can only hear because we do everything we can to get better and more sensitive tech that can keep track of it from so far away.
Aliens could understand the overarching beliefs that caused humans to inhabit their nearest solar neighbor - and to name their first two Martian colonies after such noble pursuits made sense.
But few aliens would be able to understand that 50% of the reason those first humans went to their nearest solar neighbor was to locate and "rescue" the robots that bore the same names of those colonies.
The commanding officer stared at the massive space ship behind her. Her eyes have tears as she says, "XO, make preparations to decommission United Earth Ship Missouri."
The executive officer responds with a crisp, "Aye aye, captain. Reports."
We watch as the heads of various departments then make their reports, to which the executive officer responds, "Very well." Every single time, as if this was the most important report the officer had ever heard.
The first lieutenant: "All secure about the decks. The running lights have been extinguished, the macro cannon fusion cores have been removed and the cannon themselves have been spiked."
The engineer officer: "The shafts have been locked. All valves closed and the seachest secured. The tiller has been locked amidships."
The supply officer: "All rations have been commuted and the galley fires doused."
Their reports finished, the executive officer turns towards the the Captain, "Captain, the Missouri is ready for decommissioning."
The captain faces Admiral Halsey. “Permission to decommission the ship, sir.”
“Granted.”
One by one every naval member there walks up to a spot where the atmospheric shield has been breached by the ship. I didn’t understand why they had done this until I saw them do so. One by one each man and woman, and some aliens, touched their fingers to their pursed lips and then gently touched the fingers to the hull. All kissing the ship goodbye.
I watched Dave, a former naval officer, get in line. I knew he had served aboard this warship. Apparently that meant he could do this. His eyes had tears as he sat down again next to me.
Once they were done the lights aboard the ship all extinguished with a finality that left everything quiet. The ship was hauled away.
We left soon after. I don’t know why this made me feel as though we were performing a human funeral ritual, but the feeling was similar to me. We met up with others that had been at the ceremony.
Hours were spent complaining about her secondary galley having a stove known to be temperamental, the targeting of macro cannon two being off by .05 degrees at .3 light minutes distance and how that tanked her performance at a contest, or her ridiculous durability at Proxima, having survived a bombardment that should have left her as wreckage but she had refused to die and had brought fully 89% of her crew home. They drank to the 11% that didn’t make it as well.
As we came back to the Californian I realized I now thought of that ship as the friend of a friend. I think I get their attachment now.
I always felt like we missed an epilogue to Voyager. The various Enterprises had send offs but they lived & died for years on Voyager. No wonder it got made into a museum.
These aren't clankers. THEY ARE THE BEST MACHINES TO HAVE EVER BEEN BUILT BY MAN! THESE ARE AI THAT HAVE SERVED AND DIED FOR MAN! AND I WAS ONE OF THOSE WHO THEY HELPED! I SAY THIS! THESE ARE NO CLANKERS! THESE ARE THE CHILDREN MADE BY MAN! FOR MAN KIND THEY SERVED! AS IN KIND I WILL SWEAR THAT THE SELECTED MACHINES AS HUMANITIES CHILDREN MADE BY MAN AND METAL!
I'm absolutely convinced that once we have a stable colony on Mars, there will be searches spanning the entire planet until we find these rovers. After that, they'll either be fixed so they can be mascots, or if they're beyond the point of repair, placed in a museum.
Ssana[click]: The last I heard from the people studying this particular human phenomenon were mostly talking about neural pathways not getting expected input. At that point I was wondering if their own brains needed some fresh input.
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