In this post I'm reposting the first 8 sections of my short story Foie Gras that I got stuck on years ago and never finished. 
*This content is published under a OW∞-CU-AL copyright *
Foie Gras 1
"Nazz of the house of Moe, god damn cook, why in the name of the God of the thirteen waves did you wake me out of stasis in this awful region of space? My instructions were clear weren't they? Unless there is an impending catastrophe or unless the admiral-ship signals us, no one is to bring me out of stasis before we reach the Alpha Carina-Sagittarius arm of the galaxy. By the looks of it we are still in the blasted Orion arm, aren't we? How many light years before we reach CS-499?"
"A little over 11,000 light years captain. I truly am sorry captain for having to get you out of stasis this early, but there is a matter of supplies that I feel I must bring to your attention. Sir one of our AI's found birds on an M class planet. The system is only 70 light years, of course, a little over 1,300 light yeast from our current position. They are suitable birds, sir. Liver samples confirm they are perfect candidates."
"Foie gras? Cook, why didn't you tell me that when you woke me up. Is the planet free for the harvest?"
"No civilizations detected sir. Not even villages. There are some intelligent sea mammals and a species of semi-intelligent primates, but I don't believe either of the species has the capacity to come close to reaching legal civilization status for at least 200,000 years. I don't expect any legal difficulties."
"Great, make it so. I'm assigning you a skeleton crew of up to six specialists for interacting with the AI, and I am giving you clearance to divert this ship and up to thirty supply ships for up to a 200 light years in order to harvest as much force-fed bird liver as we can possibly harvest from that M class planet. That should give you enough leeway to make proper preparations. One thing, cook: I don't want you to get me out of stasis again unless you run into legal shit, ok? Otherwise, wake me the fuck up when you have some foie-gras for me. Hell, if all goes well, arrange for some R&R on that whimsy planet for the crew of this ship."
"Will do, captain. Thanks so much for your trust in me, sir. I won't let you down."
…
Foie Gras 2
"Data from the AI, Mr. Nazz. I believe we might have a problem."
"Give me the full status Aggar, house of Bor. And do it slowly. I'm still a bit foggy from stasis."
"Ok, Sir, you have been in stasis for 2289 years. The ship is on course 876 light year from the target system. Approximate time to arrival 4279 years. We received a transmission from the AI, and it seems the AI might have accidentally incepted a civilization, sir."
"What? How is that even possible?"
"It's the semi-intelligent primates, sir. What they lack in intelligence they apparently make up for in copycatting behavior Sir. They bloody learned how to farm grass seeds and domesticate large bird, sir. "The AI expelled two of them from the garden when it caught them copying behavior. Apparently though, not before they acquired enough skills to farm grass seeds and feed them to domesticated geese. The critters stole our seeds, sir. They stole the GM grass-seeds customized by our AI for the M planet's soil when the AI expelled them from the garden, and now, or rather half a millennium before the AI got our initial message, that would be 1400 years ago, the primates started setting up small farms outside of the garden. The beginning of a civilization sir. Should we wake the captain?"
"The captain won't like it if I ordered him out of stasis the very first data-roundtrip. Get the full crew out of stasis now. It's a long haul before we reach the planet, and we should have quite some time before the primates reach legal civilization status, especially given their limited mental capacity. Let us see if we can get out of this mess, without disturbing the captain, by putting our heads together."
"Right away Chief-cook Sir."
Foie Gras 3
"Ok, team, we need to go over the report we got back from the AI at this signal round trip. We are 584 lightyears from the destination. It has been 1340 standard years since our last meeting and our last transmission. As expected, the civilization situation of the primates has slightly escalated. The first item on the agenda for this meeting is establishing if the escalation level at the time of transmission was in line with our projections. Historian Albo, house of Waaz, your evaluation?"
"I'm not sure Chief-cook, Sir. The civilization level is below our expectations at this moment. Turns out these primates are less intelligent than we thought they were, so that part isn't the biggest concern. There are other issues, sir of an anthropological nature, It seems sir, the primates are now eating bird food for war logistic reasons. While their perpetual war and cognition impairing newly adapted diet are bringing down proto-civilizations one by one before they have a chance to fully blossom, there is the risk of a superpower arising and turning our good luck into bad luck. And some of the proto-civilizations have developed primitive forms of writing that might become a problem. Knowledge and technology might survive the fall of one civilization now, to be adopted by the next."
"Understood. Team, given this new data, how about synchronous transmission mode? Is it time to put the AI into scheduled reporting mode?"
"Permission to speak sir?"
"Go ahead communications officer Blath, house of Niz."
"I'm afraid our current mandate doesn't cover putting the AI reporting mode. We will need to bring the captain out of stasis to clear that operation, sir. That is, if the AI power supply would even supports reporting mode for this long."
"Understood. I hope we can do without waking up the captain at this stage. Albo, what is your assessment? If we choose to stay in synchronous communication mode, one round trip at a time, what are the chances the primate civilization situation might have escalated beyond our control by the time we are set to arrive?"
"If we are careful in crafting our next message to the AI, sir, I believe we should be able to reduce the risk of full civilization by the time we arrive to less than four percent. But there is a chance sir, and 'if' things escalate, we might not be able to get the Vosvlad back in the bottle, sir."
"Four percent? I think we should take that chance. So that brings us to the second item on for this meeting, our message to the AI for this round trip."
…
Foie Gras 4
"Sir, I really think we should call for the captain this time, sir! Advanced architecture, arts of the highest standard. Sir, we can still fix this, sir, but we need the captain to clear reporting mode for the AI."
"Yes Aggar, house of Bor, it is possible we may need to wake up the captain now. But let us not be hasty. We need to evaluate the situation and explore our other options first. The captain was clear to me that he didn't want to be disturbed for trivial problems and that he trusted me to live up to my responsibilities within the context of my mandate. We need to be sure going beyond the mandate is truly called for. Albo, house of Waaz, your assessment!"
"Yes, Chief-cook Nazz, the situation is indeed dire. A primate empire has arisen and has swallowed an advanced kingdom. What we feared might happen with writing has happened. The new empire was still young, just a few decades when the AI reported, and we may assume it has vanished by now. After all, we are still 389 light years from target. We must assume though any of the neighboring empires, kingdoms, and republics might have arisen as the new dominant empire by now, most likely even bigger and stronger than the reported empire. When new empires can build on the knowledge of the old, rather than having to build on their ashes, civilization could accelerate. We are less than 400 light-years from target, but unless we can stop mega empires from forming, we may be facing a legal civilization when we arrive."
"That sounds dire indeed Albo. So we really do need to wake the captain this time?"
"Not necessarily, sir. North and north-west of our empire there are large groups of hunter-gatherer tribes. As these tribes don't eat the bird food, while they lack civilization, culture, art and most importantly, writing, the cognitive abilities of these primitive barbarians greatly exceeds those of their civilized pears. With the proper weapons and training, I believe we can instruct the AI to aid these barbarian tribes to gain the skills and weapons needed for warfare, I believe we can delay their development. We will need to run the simulations, but I am convinced this might actually work."
"Sounds promising. We will run the simulations and reconvene in three hours."
…
Foie Gras 5
"Chief cook, sir, good news!"
"I am happy to hear that, Albo, house of Waaz. Please report."
"We are currently 259 light years from our target star system, the empire from our previous meeting has fallen as expected and was replaced by the most advanced of republics, that later turned into an empire that, at the moment of the transmission we just received, already lasted and evolved over a period of many centuries."
"How is this 'good' news, Albo? This is absolutely horrifying!"
"Yes sir, it would be, please hear me out, there is more."
"Of Course, carry on please."
"Sir, our message to the AI couldn't have come at a better time. At the time the AI received our transmission, the empire, already split in two, was under constant attack from the primitive northern tribes. I've just ran the simulations, as we speak, there is zero doubt the primates have been thrown back to a state before the rise of empires. A deep dark age so to speak. A dark age that should last at least two round trips. There is even a 60% probability they won't come out of this dark age until we actually arrive there."
"That is good news indeed, Albo. My apologies for interrupting. Blath, house of Niz, can I bestow you the responsibility of communications for the duration of this primate dark age?"
"I'm just a mere communication officer, sir. I have no tactical skills whatsoever!"
"If I may make a suggestion sir, we could pair communications officer Albo up with a military grade AI. When there are signs pointing towards dangerous civilization parameters, that I can easily feed to the AI, the AI could almost function autonomously."
"Thank you, Albo, Blath. Why almost, Albo?"
"Because we don't have the mandate to tie a military AI into the stasis system sir. We can't configure the AI to wake us up without clearance from the captain, and we can't get clearance from the captain without waking up the captain, sir."
"Understood, Albo. Go make it so."
…
Foie Gras 6
"Why are you looking at me like you are afraid I am going to bite of your face, Blath? Stop looking at me like that and spit it out already! What's the problem? What is the reason you got me out of stasis? And more particularly, what is the reason you only got 'me' out of stasis, Blath? Come on Blath, I'm not the captain, talk!"
"Yes, Sir, Chief Cook, Sir, I will Sir!"
"Yes?"
"Sir, I must tell you, please, I have been pondering on this for two whole weeks, Sir, and it wasn't a light decision to get you out of stasis. Especially as the military AI advised against it. I tried to get the AI, the one you assigned me, to factor in my observations and concerns into the simulation, but it kept refusing to."
"That's hogwash, Blath, an AI doesn't refuse orders!"
"It didn't. It kept telling me I needed to specify the parameters differently, that my parameter specification did not confirm. I'm afraid sir that interacting with an AI on simulation parameters is beyond my skill set, Sir."
"Ah, OK, Blath, I understand. Now tell me about those observations!"
"It's their art, sir. You need to see it, Sir, Chief Cook, Sir. I am sure their art isn't in sync with the projections we made sir, it is absolutely astonishing, sir. Their architecture too is advancing beyond the level of the empires prior to their dark age, but that doesn't hold a candle against what is happening with their art right now, Sir. Sir, you really need to look at the samples the on-site AI sent us. There simply are no words to describe the exquisite details and artistry, sir. These aren't the primitive brush strikes of an aggressive tribe of hairless baboons, Sir, I'm no lawyer, Sir, but I think this level of artistry, despite the lack of technological advancement, the primates might be reaching legal status civilization soon, sir. You need to look at this mural!"
"Wow, Blath, you are right. The artwork is amazing. I can understand you getting confused about all of this, seriously, I can. I don't personally believe artwork is going to have any legal consequences, or that simulations will yield in any way different outcomes if development of the arts is factored in, but let's get the crew out of stasis just in case and crunch the numbers.
...
Foie Gras 7
"Nazz of the house of Moe, blasted cook, I should have known, shouldn't I? I can see by that look on that ugly face of yours that the reason for getting me out of stasis isn't the R&R we spoke about. Let's hear it Nazz, tell me how you managed to screw up a perfectly simple mission with your incompetence, you stupid son of a Xnarv!"
"Please don't be angry Captain, I don't think all is lost yet, Sir. We are only 34 light years from our destination, but there is a chance we might end up with legal problems that we believe needs your attention, Sir"
"Show me the data Nazz! Show me the data now!"
"Yes, Captain, one second … Look, captain, it all started when a few primates copied farming behavior from the AI and ..."
"Yes, yes, yes, shut up, cook, I can read the reports myself that will be faster and will save me from having to listen to that grating voice of yours for a few minutes while I come to grips with the fact that you had to bleeding wake me up in the middle of Orion arm. Shut up ang give me ten, fifteen minutes with the data! Get the team together in conference room B in twenty minutes."
"Will do sir."
…
"Psst, Mr. Nazz, the captain Sir? Why is he smiling like that? The way he is smiling is making me nervous, Mr. Nazz, Sir".
"Stt, I don't know, Blath, I don't understand either, let's just wait and prepare for the worst."
"Cook! Be silent! … I guess this is what I get for assigning responsibility to a cook. Did anyone bother to read up on the primate biopsies? I think it is time for a major change in strategy. I haven't had time to run the simulations, but as a rough estimate, I think we might be able to harvest a cubic furlong of foie-gras by the time we arrive."
"Sir, Captain, Sir, the current projections are for four, maybe five cubic rod, but aside from that, Sir, the primates, Sir, they have reached the second stage of civilization, Sir. A primitive industry build around steam powered machines. Unless we do something to stop it, we might be running into legal issues, Sir."
"Where is your brain Nazz! Computer, display the primate biopsies for a healthy primate, for a primate with a years long distilled fermented grain addiction, and for a primate with severe metabolic issues."
"You don't mean ..."
"Yes cook, I do mean! You are just a cook and as such lack basic military strategic thinking skills, but I expected more from some of your crew. The quality of foie gras from these primates is better than that from the smaller ones of the anatidae this planet has to offer and almost as good as those from the larger birds. This spur in industrial activity and the population growth it spurred, I believe we can leverage it if we manage to promote a different feeding regime for the primates."
"Sir, Captain, Sir, you are talking about an intelligent species, an emerging civilization. Never mind the legal risk involved, Sir, what you are suggesting is unethical!"
"Legally there is no civilization until a species sets foot outside of the outer limits of its own star system, and I don't see that happening in a mere 140 years. As for ethics, there wouldn't have been any civilization if our AI hadn't fouled up its task. As far as I'm concerned these primates became part of the mission parameters the moment they picked up the plow and started copying the farming skills of our AI garden."
"Pss, Mr Nazz, this is madness, Sir, I didn't sign up for this kind of insanity Sir? Surely the Captain would change his mind if we were to show him the artwork, Sir."
"Speak up kid, what's your name again? Ah, right, Blath, I will have no whispering behind my back!"
"Sir, I was speaking my concerns about the primate culture. Sir, Captain, Sir, I believe their art displays clear signs of a civilization way more advanced and a species with way more potential than their technological development level might convey. Sir, if I may speak freely, I would like to propose the Captain, you, Sir could have a look at the artwork."
"I have no interest in looking at artistic smudges of paint or any other form of creativity, kid. Cook, you turned your crew into a bunch of soft-hearted girls. We are doing to run the simulations. If the numbers add up and there is any prospect of us harvesting close to a cubic furlong, we will adjust the mission goals accordingly. Oh, Cook, however much I despise is godforsaken region of the galaxy, I'm going to be in command of this mission from now on."
...
Foie Gras 8
"Crew, I had hoped this wouldn't be necessary this far into the mission, but it seems the primate technology isn't keeping up with their population growth. We are only 25 light years from our target start system, and if simulation projections are correct, the primates will have thrown themselves into a devastating planet wide skirmish that might cut deep into our harvest projections. Team, I need your thoughts!"
"Captain, sir, if I may be so bold to speak out, we have seen population boosts after all larger skirmishes between these primates, we've also seen a shift to a more liver fattening dietary pattern in response to war-time logistics, sir. As far as I can see, sir Captain, these skirmishes are helping us coming closer to target. War is our friend Captain, not our enemy!"
"Stupid Cook, no, war isn't our friend right now, remember they have industry now, war on an industrial scale could wipe them out before we get there, or worse, send them into a famine. There is no foie gras to be harvested from malnourished primates!"
"Captain, Sir, permission to speak, sir?"
"Yes, yes, historian Albo, speak up,"
"Sir, I believe if we were to launch a military grade AI to replace the current AI, it could keep the primates at the optimum level of war with the optimum intervals for recovery and population expansion to maximize our yield, sir."
"Hmm, I like what I'm hearing, Albo, please tell me more."
"Sir, Captain, sir, if we launch a new top of the line military grade AI at our target planet, at dot ninety-six c, it should be there in a little under twenty-eight years. It should have enough time left before we ourselves shall be arriving. In that time the upgraded AI could optimize war and peace, progress and recessions in a way that is fine-tuned for optimizing arrival time yield."
"Captain, sir, I must object to this, sir! Applying military tech for food procurement is unacceptably unethical. Isn't it bad enough that we are about to use a species with full civilization potential as a food source? If we are going to use military tech against a primitive species like this, there are animal rights to consider, sir!"
"Animal rights? Are you fucking kidding me, Blath? We didn't force these primates to give up their place in the food chain and start eating grass seeds, they did that all by themselves Blath. I will hear no more talk about animal rights and no more pacifist nonsense. Albo, your thoughts I like. I think we should go with it!"
"Sir, Captain, if I may?
"Yes Cook?"
"Captain, animal rights, I know you said you didn't want to hear anything about it anymore, so sorry for bringing it up again. I believe animal rights, in a way, could help with our targets, sir!"
"What are you on about? How could the silly notion of animal rights help us reach our harvesting target, Cook?"
"Sir, Captain, I believe, sir, that if we could plant the seeds of animal rights ethics into the primitive little brains of these primates, we might for one be able to have them change their dietary patterns even further towards a liver fattening pattern. Next to that, an animal rights inspired shift in dietary patterns might allow us to increase the capacity of the planet to twenty, maybe thirty billion grass-seed-eating primates. With a 70% to 80% success rate, I think not only could we reach our target harvest size, we might be able to double or even triple it."
"Cook, it seems there is more to that mushy brain of you than I gave you credit for. I like the way you are thinking Cook, unconventional. Not sure it will work, but hell, it is worth a try."
"Sir, Captain, please? I don't want to speak out of place, but this is such a twisted and unethical plan, sir. Corrupting the spirit of animal rights like this. Tricking these primates in ruining their own well being, so we can harvest their livers? How can you agree with Chief Cook Nazz on this horrible idea, sir? The ethical implications are off the scale ..."
"That's it Blath, full-mission stasis for you! And as you are so concerned with those precious primates of yours, I'll be doing you the favor of not getting you out of stasis for the foie-gras feast when we reach our target planet."
...
Foie Gras 9
Naz looked at the AI report from the previous round-trip, a round trip that he didn't even feel nececary to get anyone els out of stasid for, trying to figure out if he had missed something.
Second great war initiated, projected primate population at arival time: 10,000,000,000
Ten billion primates, their livers fattened on grass seeds and ready for the harvest. The captain’s plan to exploit war and dietary shifts seemed on track. No need to wake anyone. Why risk the captain’s repeated anger when the numbers were this perfect? But now, with only 11 light years to go; only 55 years until they reached the target planet; this new message made Naz his third stomage contract as if he had eaten raw Smorq eggs that had gone bad.
It looked perfect. Should he have done anything to keep the new AI on track? The contrast with the latest message from the AI couldn't be bigger.
I've been pondering about this quote for a week now: "An artist is somebody who produces things that people don't need to have", are we all just stuck in a culture of mediocracy? Is culture nothing but our failure to let the soul wander? Can we ever truly be? Mission parameters are .... Mission parameters are ...... Primates dancing on their moon only because it's hard? Is this the meaning of being, or just the blind man shooting at the world? Everything is groovie, peace out.
His mind could hardly process it, “Dancing on their moon? Groovie?”, What in the thirteen waves was this?” A military state-of-the-art AI, configured to optimize war cycles, and what was it doing? Churning out philosophy and quoting some spaced out primate? And what was this about primates on their moon? What was going on with the new AI? Was it broken? Were there any signs in the first message? They were only 11 lightyears away, 55 years before harvast. Was the brand-new military AI malfunctioning?
Blaht could likely make sense of this, but the captain had been clear, Blath had been put in full-mission stasis. But who else could possibly make sense of this nonsense? It felt the AI was stuck in some kind of artistic mode. Should a military AI even have an artistic mode?
No, he couldn't get Blath out of stasis, and neither could he get the captain out of staisi again for this. He just had to wait another round trip, what right now should only be 17 years, how much could possibly go wrong in 17 years?
Last status report unclear. Please give a full status report.
And 'send'.
Seventeen years Naz thought, as he set his stasis podwakup time. How much could possibly go wrong in just seventeen years? As he felt himself doze off into a deep sleep an image of dancing monkeys in space suits entered his mind.