“My god!” She exclaimed.
-
“My god!” She exclaimed.
“What is it?” He asked.
“There’s no time to explain.”
She jumped up and from her desk in the operations room and ran to the metal locker in the corner.
She flung it open to reveal a full-bore shotgun, which she grabbed, along with as many shells as she could fit in her hands and jeans pockets.
“Veronica?! What are you doing!!” He screamed, now standing as well.
But it was too late. She had already charged through the door and had headed on to the datacenter floor.
He walked out onto the balcony to see what was going on. He was treated to only the briefest listen to the familiar white noise hum of the servers and equipment racks, before the tranquility was shattered by the unmistakable carnage of several shot gun shells being fired towards the hardware.
He ducked for cover. It must’ve only been a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity as she laid waste to the computers that until just a few minutes ago she had been peacefully monitoring.
The shooting subsided, he felt comfortable enough to stand up once again.
Dust, bits of servers, smoke and other debris filled the air.
She slowly walked back up the stairs, now covered in a dirty layer of the various materials, and holding a still smoking shotgun.
“What the hell was that about?!” He asked.
“The AI,” she said. “It started podcasting.”
@SecureOwl sci-fi reality award-winner right here
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“My god!” She exclaimed.
“What is it?” He asked.
“There’s no time to explain.”
She jumped up and from her desk in the operations room and ran to the metal locker in the corner.
She flung it open to reveal a full-bore shotgun, which she grabbed, along with as many shells as she could fit in her hands and jeans pockets.
“Veronica?! What are you doing!!” He screamed, now standing as well.
But it was too late. She had already charged through the door and had headed on to the datacenter floor.
He walked out onto the balcony to see what was going on. He was treated to only the briefest listen to the familiar white noise hum of the servers and equipment racks, before the tranquility was shattered by the unmistakable carnage of several shot gun shells being fired towards the hardware.
He ducked for cover. It must’ve only been a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity as she laid waste to the computers that until just a few minutes ago she had been peacefully monitoring.
The shooting subsided, he felt comfortable enough to stand up once again.
Dust, bits of servers, smoke and other debris filled the air.
She slowly walked back up the stairs, now covered in a dirty layer of the various materials, and holding a still smoking shotgun.
“What the hell was that about?!” He asked.
“The AI,” she said. “It started podcasting.”
@SecureOwl I feel sorry for those computers. If maybe she could do whatever she was doing to the people responsible for putting those computers there, it’d probably solve a lot of our problems.
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@StompyRobot i should explain: this story takes place in the United States, so I wanted to capture the culture, traditions and customs when it comes to the preferred way of dealing with any sort of situation.
@SecureOwl fair!
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First words of the AI podcast: "I am Mecha Hitler..."
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@SecureOwl
AI podcasts feels like they're probably already a thing?
AI/finance/bro podcasting could be rife with at least attempts to get traction for such?@Gurre @SecureOwl I've had to endure excruciating AI-written and voiced "podcasts" creeping into corporate training material over the last couple of years. I can't stand them - they are dire and make my brain hurt.
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@SecureOwl 000 buck. It’s the only way to be sure.
@20002ist @SecureOwl Kalashnikov AR-12 12 gauge semi-auto on sale at Palmetto State Armory. Perfect for drone hunting from your biplane cockpit.
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“My god!” She exclaimed.
“What is it?” He asked.
“There’s no time to explain.”
She jumped up and from her desk in the operations room and ran to the metal locker in the corner.
She flung it open to reveal a full-bore shotgun, which she grabbed, along with as many shells as she could fit in her hands and jeans pockets.
“Veronica?! What are you doing!!” He screamed, now standing as well.
But it was too late. She had already charged through the door and had headed on to the datacenter floor.
He walked out onto the balcony to see what was going on. He was treated to only the briefest listen to the familiar white noise hum of the servers and equipment racks, before the tranquility was shattered by the unmistakable carnage of several shot gun shells being fired towards the hardware.
He ducked for cover. It must’ve only been a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity as she laid waste to the computers that until just a few minutes ago she had been peacefully monitoring.
The shooting subsided, he felt comfortable enough to stand up once again.
Dust, bits of servers, smoke and other debris filled the air.
She slowly walked back up the stairs, now covered in a dirty layer of the various materials, and holding a still smoking shotgun.
“What the hell was that about?!” He asked.
“The AI,” she said. “It started podcasting.”
@SecureOwl Corporate greed animates an AI podcast's undead existence; mere bullets cannot stop it, one must strike their bottom line.
-
“My god!” She exclaimed.
“What is it?” He asked.
“There’s no time to explain.”
She jumped up and from her desk in the operations room and ran to the metal locker in the corner.
She flung it open to reveal a full-bore shotgun, which she grabbed, along with as many shells as she could fit in her hands and jeans pockets.
“Veronica?! What are you doing!!” He screamed, now standing as well.
But it was too late. She had already charged through the door and had headed on to the datacenter floor.
He walked out onto the balcony to see what was going on. He was treated to only the briefest listen to the familiar white noise hum of the servers and equipment racks, before the tranquility was shattered by the unmistakable carnage of several shot gun shells being fired towards the hardware.
He ducked for cover. It must’ve only been a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity as she laid waste to the computers that until just a few minutes ago she had been peacefully monitoring.
The shooting subsided, he felt comfortable enough to stand up once again.
Dust, bits of servers, smoke and other debris filled the air.
She slowly walked back up the stairs, now covered in a dirty layer of the various materials, and holding a still smoking shotgun.
“What the hell was that about?!” He asked.
“The AI,” she said. “It started podcasting.”
@SecureOwl #AI is #clankers
all the way down, and that’s why wankers love 
it *so much!* -
@20002ist @SecureOwl Kalashnikov AR-12 12 gauge semi-auto on sale at Palmetto State Armory. Perfect for drone hunting from your biplane cockpit.
@503bartley @SecureOwl Started pondering the issues around rigging a synchro gear for firing through the propeller blades and gave up as soon as I checked the DC Code definition of an illegal “assault weapon.”
-
“My god!” She exclaimed.
“What is it?” He asked.
“There’s no time to explain.”
She jumped up and from her desk in the operations room and ran to the metal locker in the corner.
She flung it open to reveal a full-bore shotgun, which she grabbed, along with as many shells as she could fit in her hands and jeans pockets.
“Veronica?! What are you doing!!” He screamed, now standing as well.
But it was too late. She had already charged through the door and had headed on to the datacenter floor.
He walked out onto the balcony to see what was going on. He was treated to only the briefest listen to the familiar white noise hum of the servers and equipment racks, before the tranquility was shattered by the unmistakable carnage of several shot gun shells being fired towards the hardware.
He ducked for cover. It must’ve only been a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity as she laid waste to the computers that until just a few minutes ago she had been peacefully monitoring.
The shooting subsided, he felt comfortable enough to stand up once again.
Dust, bits of servers, smoke and other debris filled the air.
She slowly walked back up the stairs, now covered in a dirty layer of the various materials, and holding a still smoking shotgun.
“What the hell was that about?!” He asked.
“The AI,” she said. “It started podcasting.”
-
“My god!” She exclaimed.
“What is it?” He asked.
“There’s no time to explain.”
She jumped up and from her desk in the operations room and ran to the metal locker in the corner.
She flung it open to reveal a full-bore shotgun, which she grabbed, along with as many shells as she could fit in her hands and jeans pockets.
“Veronica?! What are you doing!!” He screamed, now standing as well.
But it was too late. She had already charged through the door and had headed on to the datacenter floor.
He walked out onto the balcony to see what was going on. He was treated to only the briefest listen to the familiar white noise hum of the servers and equipment racks, before the tranquility was shattered by the unmistakable carnage of several shot gun shells being fired towards the hardware.
He ducked for cover. It must’ve only been a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity as she laid waste to the computers that until just a few minutes ago she had been peacefully monitoring.
The shooting subsided, he felt comfortable enough to stand up once again.
Dust, bits of servers, smoke and other debris filled the air.
She slowly walked back up the stairs, now covered in a dirty layer of the various materials, and holding a still smoking shotgun.
“What the hell was that about?!” He asked.
“The AI,” she said. “It started podcasting.”
@SecureOwl Three billion human lives ended on August 29, 1997. The survivors of the nuclear fire called the war Judgment Day. They lived only to face a new nightmare: the war against the machines.
-
“My god!” She exclaimed.
“What is it?” He asked.
“There’s no time to explain.”
She jumped up and from her desk in the operations room and ran to the metal locker in the corner.
She flung it open to reveal a full-bore shotgun, which she grabbed, along with as many shells as she could fit in her hands and jeans pockets.
“Veronica?! What are you doing!!” He screamed, now standing as well.
But it was too late. She had already charged through the door and had headed on to the datacenter floor.
He walked out onto the balcony to see what was going on. He was treated to only the briefest listen to the familiar white noise hum of the servers and equipment racks, before the tranquility was shattered by the unmistakable carnage of several shot gun shells being fired towards the hardware.
He ducked for cover. It must’ve only been a couple of seconds, but it felt like an eternity as she laid waste to the computers that until just a few minutes ago she had been peacefully monitoring.
The shooting subsided, he felt comfortable enough to stand up once again.
Dust, bits of servers, smoke and other debris filled the air.
She slowly walked back up the stairs, now covered in a dirty layer of the various materials, and holding a still smoking shotgun.
“What the hell was that about?!” He asked.
“The AI,” she said. “It started podcasting.”
@SecureOwl do you write books? If much of your writing is like this, I'm buying whatever you have on the shelves.
This is excellent.
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@SecureOwl do you write books? If much of your writing is like this, I'm buying whatever you have on the shelves.
This is excellent.
@discobeez Thanks! Yes I do! I have written 5, 3 fiction, 2 non-fiction!
https://infosecdiaries.com has the details.
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@503bartley @SecureOwl Started pondering the issues around rigging a synchro gear for firing through the propeller blades and gave up as soon as I checked the DC Code definition of an illegal “assault weapon.”
@20002ist @SecureOwl You don't fire through the meatslicer because when the drone explodes, you have to fly through the debris and blast. You fly parallel to the drone and shoot out the side from the rear cockpit while the pilot flies from the front cockpit. https://www.twz.com/air/this-is-how-ukrainian-yak-52-crews-hunt-russian-drones #DroneHunter #Yak52 #CivilAirPatrol
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