[AW] IC Skyfall: Imperfect Calibrations

[Thanqol]

"Nice place." Blue says and takes a good look around the lively workshop.

Not-Ahab is still as inert as scrap, right where you left her. The gang of silent Nemeans all walk inside and within moments they are all over your sh't. Rummaging in containers, stripping wires, tapping on controls, dismantling Not-Ahab, playing the first 4 seconds of every track on your playlist, generally acting like a bunch of brats who's never been to a toy shop before.

Blue pushes the 'bleeding' C-9 Nemean towards you, dragging it away just as it's about to shove its fingers in a power socket.

"Would you mind welding thisone up?" The leaking plasma is forming a bluish puddle on your floor. It's an easy fix, some welding and the odd patch should do it.

A couple of the Nemeans make themselves quite comfortable and you get the sense they are not going to leave here in a hurry. They like.

239 stares directly and impassively at the White Horse. There's an implicit invitation - if the Horse states that these Nemeans are endangering her Directive then she'll discipline them. But in the absence of direct instructions she's not going to get in a risky fight. Plus she'd secretly been wanting to do the same thing with the music playlist.

"In addition, I repeat my request for a purge of the malware currently assailing my systems," 239 commented, though felt vaguely guilty for doing so.

[Severan]

I watch Play's fingers pressing my flesh, then study her face. She got blue eyes, sure, but what gets me is the liquid silver bubbling around her words, hovering at the edge of her shadow. This un's new on me.

I feel lightheaded, and my voice sounds like it's comin' from far away.

"Whassit to you, if I reckon we need that kid alive? Or if I was with, uh, wassername. Sandy? And uh, yeh- you're killin' me wrong."

[Anarion]

"Her workshop is over that way," Vectra says, waving at one of the walls in the rough direction of where Ahab's camp had been the day before. "Ahab left it behind unguarded. We've had sights on it all morning."

"It's out of the way, we could go there now and lay in wait for when she next goes back there. We can use cloaks." Kal'Zorah offered, his voice sounding excited.

"Yeah, let's go," Vectra said standing up and pulling on the tubes, "Hectus has sucked enough blood out of me by now, surely, Doc?"

"Oh, indeed, the patients are all very stable. Thank you for assisting. If nothing else happens to them, they should all make a full recovery with time." I begin disconnecting the apparatus and putting away the tools. "If you think it safe, I'm not opposed to going now. Perhaps I could simply convince White Horse to come and speak with you. We have at least a working relationship."

[stveje]

Foray, the weapon fanatic, arrives, as usual armed to the teeth.

"Ahab says for everyone who isn't needed to clear the f'ck out of here."

Evereyone turns to look at Foray but the sheer amount of weaponry they carry seems enough to keep any immediate challenges from being voiced. Still, no one is actually leaving. It seems everyone feels they are needed.

"Maria, who do you need in here?" Foray asks, not about to let this drop quite this easily.

"Anyone wounded, I'll get to them as soon as I can," Maria said without looking up.

"Look, Dave's bleeding f'cking everywhere-" Play starts.

"Play can stay too," Maria concedes but says no more.

Foray sets the point of a loaded crossbow against the soft skin of K-9's shoulder. "You heard her. With the Doc gone her word is the law in here. Clear your girls the hell out Kay."

With dark looks that promised repercussions K-9 motioned for the rest of her gang to head out, she went with them, but not before making a few attempts at making Foray pull the trigger on her and failing.

"I'll... I'll be right outside the door, Maria," Foray said once they'd all gone. "In case you need anything."

Dayum, Foray is Metal! If Ahab was there, she'd be proud.

Foray has not been gone a minute before you see K-9 and her gang file out of the infirmary looking like they are spoiling for a fight. They head straight towards you.

The tank stopped at the halfway point and waited, its huge gun pointing right at you.

"Are you going to come over so we can talk or are you just going to sit there?" the commander calls at you.

Ahab has all the time she wants here while, unknown to him, the Commander doesn't ... at least, that is what she assumes, but the way he keeps trying to delay and stall, she has to wonder if maybe he's playing the same game she is.

Is he waiting for his pieces to be in place or to make a move? Or does he know something else that she doesn't?

His behavior certainly warrants a moment to consider the playing field.

Read a Sitch: 6+2-1 = 7

What should I be on the lookout for?

[Elanorin]

I watch Play's fingers pressing my flesh, then study her face. She got blue eyes, sure, but what gets me is the liquid silver bubbling around her words, hovering at the edge of her shadow. This un's new on me.

I feel lightheaded, and my voice sounds like it's comin' from far away.

"Whassit to you, if I reckon we need that kid alive? Or if I was with, uh, wassername. Sandy? And uh, yeh- you're killin' me wrong."

"You're picking a hell of a time to be f'ckin' smart with me, creep," Play growls and then picks you up and puts you on one of the treatment tables. Drar'kolak, the Doctor's brother, is lying at the next one. Maria is with him still, working furiously.

On your other side Grime appears, still dragging his dead conjoined twin along as well as a conscious but barely able to move, Tenshi. Grime sits Tenshi down on the Doctor's chair next to a desk. It is the only available space left.

"Now, are you going to tell me what's up between you and that sand-blasted bitch, Tessa?"

"Oh, indeed, the patients are all very stable. Thank you for assisting. If nothing else happens to them, they should all make a full recovery with time." I begin disconnecting the apparatus and putting away the tools. "If you think it safe, I'm not opposed to going now. Perhaps I could simply convince White Horse to come and speak with you. We have at least a working relationship."

"Let's go now," Vectra says, not even entertaining your suggestion of you bringing White Horse here. Once disconnected from everything she leads you and Kal'Zorah outside and in to one of the smaller military vehicles. She grabs weapons for herself, more than a couple, and hands two over to Kal'Zorah. She clips a tiny little device on to the waistline of your trousers.

"This will only last for five seconds before needing a recharge so we're going to have to run. Fast."

Looking out over the landscape between the Dextro camp and the workshop in the distance, there isn't much by way of cover between here and there. The odd largish stone, a pile of bones. A turned-on-its-side fishing boat is probably the best choice but it's going to be a hard push to make it there in five seconds.

"Are you sure about this, Vectra?" Kal'Zorah says as he sets his weapons into place. "You just gave blood, you're not really fit for a major sprint. Especially in that armour."

Dayum, Foray is Metal! If Ahab was there, she'd be proud.

Ahab has all the time she wants here while, unknown to him, the Commander doesn't ... at least, that is what she assumes, but the way he keeps trying to delay and stall, she has to wonder if maybe he's playing the same game she is.

Is he waiting for his pieces to be in place or to make a move? Or does he know something else that she doesn't?

His behavior certainly warrants a moment to consider the playing field.

Read a Sitch: 6+2-1 = 7

What should I be on the lookout for?

While he is a surly turian general, he does seem to be more or less complying with your demands, even if he's doing so as much on his own terms as he's able. Partly because he simply doesn't trust you and because of pride. Lots and lots of pride. That alone might betray just how desperate he is behind that blank turian face.

But he's not stupid, he's a war veteran, he has pieces he's moving just as much as you do. You should be on the lookout for stealth infiltrations using their cloak tech which was once widespread and commonplace but is rare now. You know they have it. It's not hard to imagine what he'd use it for either. Strategic placement of troops to catch you and your main guns in crossfire. Perhaps take back your quarian prisoner. That.

Kin has managed to tie off most of her bleeding and is back with you setting her homemade firebombs back in order after the blast.

[Severan]

The metal surgical slab beneath me seeps its coldness into my bones, and it feels good. I close my eyes and lay still, wondering if being dead feels good, or if it's just nothin'. Nothing might even be better.

After a little while, I realise that I'm still alive, and Play's waitin' on me.

"Tessa fed me, an' she's interestin'. She wants to take them walkin' coffins apart much as I do. Thassit. Why d'you care? She stole sumthin of yours?"

[Raz_Fox]

“Niner, Niner!” I point, all brash and steel. This is my Ahab place. The one land scrap where I have a crown, long be my reign. “This is lab tech zone. All hands my hands, all song our song. Them that aren’t in concert wait downstairs. You dig me?”

I don’t wait. I hold a hand out. “Scrap!” Another hand! “Sparker!” Let’s get to welding!

Also I will be somewhat embarrassed if nobody gives me my weld rod and a piece of scrap for patching right after I say that.

[Thanqol]

“Niner, Niner!” I point, all brash and steel. This is my Ahab place. The one land scrap where I have a crown, long be my reign. “This is lab tech zone. All hands my hands, all song our song. Them that aren’t in concert wait downstairs. You dig me?”

I don’t wait. I hold a hand out. “Scrap!” Another hand! “Sparker!” Let’s get to welding!

Also I will be somewhat embarrassed if nobody gives me my weld rod and a piece of scrap for patching right after I say that.

239 stared blankly. Trying to figure it out. This dialect was beyond her. The body language was incomprehensible. She was programmed to recognize human, Turian and Batarian aggression displays because those were the most common threat species, but this was beyond her ability to even make guesses about.

After grinding her gears a bit she decided just to repeat herself, louder and slower. "In addition, I repeat my request for a purge of the malware..."

[Raz_Fox]

Well, this sure is indeed embarrassing. I turn to McClane, hapless, grounded from the sparking skies of making. “You got me, right?” Translation, please. You know the robot speak. Maybe. Kinda? Then again he did actually piss Niner off, so. Maybe not. Maybe I will have to trudge around and pick everything up myself, like a scrounger on a junk mound.

[Anarion]

"Let's go now," Vectra says, not even entertaining your suggestion of you bringing White Horse here. Once disconnected from everything she leads you and Kal'Zorah outside and in to one of the smaller military vehicles. She grabs weapons for herself, more than a couple, and hands two over to Kal'Zorah. She clips a tiny little device on to the waistline of your trousers.

"This will only last for five seconds before needing a recharge so we're going to have to run. Fast."

Looking out over the landscape between the Dextro camp and the workshop in the distance, there isn't much by way of cover between here and there. The odd largish stone, a pile of bones. A turned-on-its-side fishing boat is probably the best choice but it's going to be a hard push to make it there in five seconds.

"Are you sure about this, Vectra?" Kal'Zorah says as he sets his weapons into place. "You just gave blood, you're not really fit for a major sprint. Especially in that armour."

"My recommendation would be for you to wait an hour or so and to eat something with iron in it. As I'm not certain that you've got the time, I won't stop you if you want to make this run, but I will ask how you plan to get back."

[stveje]

While he is a surly turian general, he does seem to be more or less complying with your demands, even if he's doing so as much on his own terms as he's able. Partly because he simply doesn't trust you and because of pride. Lots and lots of pride. That alone might betray just how desperate he is behind that blank turian face.

But he's not stupid, he's a war veteran, he has pieces he's moving just as much as you do. You should be on the lookout for stealth infiltrations using their cloak tech which was once widespread and commonplace but is rare now. You know they have it. It's not hard to imagine what he'd use it for either. Strategic placement of troops to catch you and your main guns in crossfire. Perhaps take back your quarian prisoner. That.

Kin has managed to tie off most of her bleeding and is back with you setting her homemade firebombs back in order after the blast.

I see.

Time to show everyone who's got guts.

"Kin, hop on," Ahab says and indicates her seat on the Shark. "If they make any threat or aggressive move, show them the meaning of fire. Don't hold back or worry about me, just make certain you destroy them utterly."

She jumps down once Kin is in place and turns briefly to the approaching K-9. "Keep an eye out for ghosts. There may be some sneaking about."

Then she grabs Stars, like one grabs a cat or a dog by the scruff of the neck, and starts dragging her along as she strides towards the tank. She stops halfway there, in the middle of the battlefield, throws Stars in the dust beside her, and just stands ... arms behind her, back straight, head high and eyes focused on the tank. Dust blows about her dramatically in the breathless silence of everyone watching. There must be no doubt about who's on top, who had the guts and the confidence ... who showed weakness and who showed strength.

Your move, Turian.

*

I feel like this is a Manipulate/Seduction move, but as always I'm happy to debate it if you disagree with my reasoning. Ahab wants him to come and kneel before her, swear himself to her, as she already made clear, and she just gave him a(nother) reason: because she's f'ing Hot as Hell and the real deal, not some fake pretender, that's why. Everyone just watched her walk out to meet him first, and just stand there like the stone-cold boss she is. Ahab wants him to kneel before her because he either respects or desires her, maybe even worships her, and it sure would be a shame to kill someone like her (not to forget suicide for him and his people, of course) even if he could pull it off. And maybe he, in his pride, can see himself in the future not just kneeling before her but standing beside her (or, more pridefully, above her). He certainly wouldn't be the first or only one to follow her for that sort of reason.

Seduce 4+5+1 = 10

[Elanorin]

The metal surgical slab beneath me seeps its coldness into my bones, and it feels good. I close my eyes and lay still, wondering if being dead feels good, or if it's just nothin'. Nothing might even be better.

After a little while, I realise that I'm still alive, and Play's waitin' on me.

"Tessa fed me, an' she's interestin'. She wants to take them walkin' coffins apart much as I do. Thassit. Why d'you care? She stole sumthin of yours?"

"She's an Outsider," Play snarls and shoves something hard against a wound and it hurts like hell.

Maria shouts something but it's getting harder to make out and then you feel a sharp 'scratch' at the side of your neck and the world gets wibbly wobbly.

This could be it. The big sleep. Or it could be just another sleep the likes of which you've had countless times before.

Tell me, what do you fear and what do you crave?

“Niner, Niner!” I point, all brash and steel. This is my Ahab place. The one land scrap where I have a crown, long be my reign. “This is lab tech zone. All hands my hands, all song our song. Them that aren’t in concert wait downstairs. You dig me?”

I don’t wait. I hold a hand out. “Scrap!” Another hand! “Sparker!” Let’s get to welding!

Also I will be somewhat embarrassed if nobody gives me my weld rod and a piece of scrap for patching right after I say that.

Well, this sure is indeed embarrassing. I turn to McClane, hapless, grounded from the sparking skies of making. “You got me, right?” Translation, please. You know the robot speak. Maybe. Kinda? Then again he did actually piss Niner off, so. Maybe not. Maybe I will have to trudge around and pick everything up myself, like a scrounger on a junk mound.

Two or three of the Nemeans stop their rampant rummaging and comes over to, well, help. Each time you say a command each of them produces a Thing. It's a sort of 50/50 situation if any of them actually gets it vaguely right, but then again, they're just combat suits. What do they know of tech repairs, right? Then again, it might occur to you that with the installation of the right drivers and software these Nemeans might make pretty darn decent helpers if you put some honest sweat in to it. At least these 'helpful' ones anyway. The rest are still little more than wild metal animals on a day when the zoo's security systems got hacked.

Blue does not lift a hand to help you. He's ore focused on 239.

239 stared blankly. Trying to figure it out. This dialect was beyond her. The body language was incomprehensible. She was programmed to recognize human, Turian and Batarian aggression displays because those were the most common threat species, but this was beyond her ability to even make guesses about.

After grinding her gears a bit she decided just to repeat herself, louder and slower. "In addition, I repeat my request for a purge of the malware..."

Blue walks over to you and puts down some half-finished doohickey that had caught his attention.

"Malware, huh?" He turns to access the service panel on the back of your right hand shoulder. "Let me have a look."

What do you do?

"My recommendation would be for you to wait an hour or so and to eat something with iron in it. As I'm not certain that you've got the time, I won't stop you if you want to make this run, but I will ask how you plan to get back."

"Well," Vectra said, "I thought the Workshop might be where most of what you two will need might be and that we could hole up there for a while until this bullsh't has blown over enough for us to just walk back. Or at the very least until nightfall. But... I see you point. Alright. Take mine as spare.” She gives you her little cloaking clasp. “I’ll cover you.”

She took out a heavily modified sniper rifle and handled it like it had a pet name.

“Let’s go,” Kal’Zorah said after exchanging glances with Vectra.

To make it across is a simple, if lengthy run. The cloaks will keep you hidden just long enough to run between covers, but as you know exertion is dangerous and the air threatens to drown you if you push too hard. It’s acting under fire to get there undetected.

What do you do?

I see.

Time to show everyone who's got guts.

"Kin, hop on," Ahab says and indicates her seat on the Shark. "If they make any threat or aggressive move, show them the meaning of fire. Don't hold back or worry about me, just make certain you destroy them utterly."

She jumps down once Kin is in place and turns briefly to the approaching K-9. "Keep an eye out for ghosts. There may be some sneaking about."

Then she grabs Stars, like one grabs a cat or a dog by the scruff of the neck, and starts dragging her along as she strides towards the tank. She stops halfway there, in the middle of the battlefield, throws Stars in the dust beside her, and just stands ... arms behind her, back straight, head high and eyes focused on the tank. Dust blows about her dramatically in the breathless silence of everyone watching. There must be no doubt about who's on top, who had the guts and the confidence ... who showed weakness and who showed strength.

Your move, Turian.

*

I feel like this is a Manipulate/Seduction move, but as always I'm happy to debate it if you disagree with my reasoning. Ahab wants him to come and kneel before her, swear himself to her, as she already made clear, and she just gave him a(nother) reason: because she's f'ing Hot as Hell and the real deal, not some fake pretender, that's why. Everyone just watched her walk out to meet him first, and just stand there like the stone-cold boss she is. Ahab wants him to kneel before her because he either respects or desires her, maybe even worships her, and it sure would be a shame to kill someone like her (not to forget suicide for him and his people, of course) even if he could pull it off. And maybe he, in his pride, can see himself in the future not just kneeling before her but standing beside her (or, more pridefully, above her). He certainly wouldn't be the first or only one to follow her for that sort of reason.

Seduce 4+5+1 = 10

Kin does hop on and the look on her face as you tell her that she has leave to go full whacknuts with not just her firebombs but The Shark too and it is pure joy, a terrifying one, especially on a face as young as hers.

"Got it, Captain." And you know she is mentally urging them on to give her the excuse with every ounce of her little body.

The tank keeps coming until the muzzle of its gun is mere feet away from you. The turian is watching you the whole time, as if daring you to flinch, and when you don't he visibly eyes you head to toe with his head turned to one side a little. Finally he gives a conceding nod.

The commander lifted himself out of the tank's man hole, grabbed a rifle from his back and jumped down on to the ground with an agility that didn't quite seem to fit his large armoured bulk. He took the few steps that remained between you to face you face to face. Commander Varrek Prolus was of typical tall turian stature, small eyes as grey as his skin and his face had painted markings in white on one side.

"Ahab." He reached the assault rifle out to you and stood straight. "I assume you have demands, Captain."

[Thanqol]

Blue walks over to you and puts down some half-finished doohickey that had caught his attention.

"Malware, huh?" He turns to access the service panel on the back of your right hand shoulder. "Let me have a look."

What do you do?

239 inwardly winces as a chorus of contradictory Directives immediately start shouting. Letting an unauthorized entity access her service panel endangers her pilot - long term efficacy degradation due to malware endangers her pilot - obey all legitimate orders - tell the truth. She wants the malware gone. She doesn't want to put her life in this stranger's hands. It's the kind of contradictory order set that just makes her want to bang her head against a wall so rather than trying to justify being assertive she just steps back and states "Please provide authentication codes for maintenance access,"

She's throwing herself on the mercy of the fates with that question because there's no guarantee he'll have those codes, or if he does, that they qualify him to mess around inside her head. But it's a nice good robot question to ask because a robot shouldn't have to make a decision like that.

[Anarion]

I'll do it. Because, I don't know. Because I don't want to get shot. Because I want these people to have food. Because I want to get to that lab. Because I feel like I can do some good. Because it's been a goddamn long time since I did anything this stupid and I am too old for this but that's exactly what makes it feel so good.

[4+6-1=9.]

[Raz_Fox]

“Oh, that’s easy,” I warble from the catwalk above them, where I am repurposing a line funnel for scrap parts. “The authentication code is Terra Sigma Five Seven.” I am the most helpful. “Unless she was off-model, some of them are, but that was the standard milcode.”

[Thanqol]

“Oh, that’s easy,” I warble from the catwalk above them, where I am repurposing a line funnel for scrap parts. “The authentication code is Terra Sigma Five Seven.” I am the most helpful. “Unless she was off-model, some of them are, but that was the standard milcode.”

... how hard could it be to find a replacement tech?

"Access code accepted," said 239 who wasn't cycling the charge cells of her plasma carbine because that would cause unnecessary wear on components. And because expressing mental stress through subtextual cues that she was increasingly inclined to violence would be ambiguous and unnecessary. And not befitting of her mission to medevac her pilot.

Thank you, White Horse.

[Severan]

Because she's an Outsider.

Dangerous words. So much hate. They don't surprise me, comin' from that mouth, but they shape the darkness behind my eyes into a place I swore I'd never see again.

Dry. Red. A blank, grey sky overhead that ain't bringing rain. No rain for millions of years. Not a body in sight either, live or dead. Once, there were faces, voices, names I could never remember, but it's been so long, I'm not sure they were ever real.

Hunger. Thirst. Burning skin in sun and frozen bones in moonshade. Silence.

No. Not silence.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Constantly. It slows when the cold nights begin, but I can barely sleep, it's so loud.

Eventually came a new sound, at the edge of my hearing. It gets louder until it fills me with its sweet and terrible Wail. I spend the days, scrabbling in the dust for bugs escaped from the Domes, singing in tune to its metallic scream.

I laughed, the day Ahab found me. I saw her mouth movin', but her words come out as Wail. I laughed, cos my singing had brought her to me.

She had me tied then, and I was caged, but there was food, water, shelter, voices. I was grateful, even for the beatings, cos these faces and bodies were real.

But I'd hear them, talkin' about how they was gonna 'ditch' me, cos I dunno what Angry and Sad and Funny and Quiet are. Cos they dunno what my mind might do to 'em. Cos I'm Not One of Them. That's when I understand- be like them, watch and copy, and you ain’t gonna be left behind ever again.

So- Play calls Tessa 'Outsider', not me. Maybe I've made the cut, finally. Or maybe I'm another type of person, not Outside, but still not 'one of them'.

It's time to rise above my fear and face what it is that I really need- to surround myself with them like me.

I look into the World Beyond and wonder where and who they are.

[Opening Dave's Brain to the Psychic Maelstrom: 5+2=7]

[stveje]

Kin does hop on and the look on her face as you tell her that she has leave to go full whacknuts with not just her firebombs but The Shark too and it is pure joy, a terrifying one, especially on a face as young as hers.

"Got it, Captain." And you know she is mentally urging them on to give her the excuse with every ounce of her little body.

Exactly why she's perfect for the job. You don't want someone who looks like they might hesitate.

The tank keeps coming until the muzzle of its gun is mere feet away from you. The turian is watching you the whole time, as if daring you to flinch, and when you don't he visibly eyes you head to toe with his head turned to one side a little. Finally he gives a conceding nod.

The commander lifted himself out of the tank's man hole, grabbed a rifle from his back and jumped down on to the ground with an agility that didn't quite seem to fit his large armoured bulk. He took the few steps that remained between you to face you face to face. Commander Varrek Prolus was of typical tall turian stature, small eyes as grey as his skin and his face had painted markings in white on one side.

"Ahab." He reached the assault rifle out to you and stood straight. "I assume you have demands, Captain."

"Commander Prolus. You will have your forces stand down, including any invisibles, and all your people out here in an orderly and calm manner," she said, as the obvious first order of business. There was no anger or malice in her voice now, it was the voice of someone just going through routine checks and orders. "Before someone triggers an unfortunate misunderstanding. If any are wounded, our doctor will see to their needs. I assume she is already hard at work. You can trust her to do her job. You will inform her, also, that she is needed at her infirmary as soon as she is able.

"A quarian was in our camp. She is in a critical condition and was being treated in isolation at the infirmary. I can only assume an attempt was made to extract her by force. Very unfortunate." There was a bit of hardness in her voice and eyes just then. "I am not aware of her current status, but I will not see her moved or disturbed in any way, until she has recovered and I have had a chance to speak to her alone."

She paused, eyes lingering on the horizon over his shoulder for a moment, then she looked back at him and added, "Going forward, you will provide us with weapons and other equipment. We offer fair trade in return, for what you may need, though I won't say your people will be immediately welcomed. Such trust has to be earned."

[Elanorin]

239 inwardly winces as a chorus of contradictory Directives immediately start shouting. Letting an unauthorized entity access her service panel endangers her pilot - long term efficacy degradation due to malware endangers her pilot - obey all legitimate orders - tell the truth. She wants the malware gone. She doesn't want to put her life in this stranger's hands. It's the kind of contradictory order set that just makes her want to bang her head against a wall so rather than trying to justify being assertive she just steps back and states "Please provide authentication codes for maintenance access,"

She's throwing herself on the mercy of the fates with that question because there's no guarantee he'll have those codes, or if he does, that they qualify him to mess around inside her head. But it's a nice good robot question to ask because a robot shouldn't have to make a decision like that.

“Oh, that’s easy,” I warble from the catwalk above them, where I am repurposing a line funnel for scrap parts. “The authentication code is Terra Sigma Five Seven.” I am the most helpful. “Unless she was off-model, some of them are, but that was the standard milcode.”

... how hard could it be to find a replacement tech?

"Access code accepted," said 239 who wasn't cycling the charge cells of her plasma carbine because that would cause unnecessary wear on components. And because expressing mental stress through subtextual cues that she was increasingly inclined to violence would be ambiguous and unnecessary. And not befitting of her mission to medevac her pilot.

Thank you, White Horse.

Blue looks up at White Horse above and then back to 239 and a low strange sound comes from him. A human would call it a chuckle.

"Where have you been all my life?" he calls back up towards White Horse.

He steps behind 239 and goes about opening the service panel on the back of her shoulder with practiced ease.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," he mutters. "Damn, if I'd had that authentication code a year ago it certainly would have made piecing the other suits together a lot easier. And a lot less... painful." With two subtle clicks he has established a hardwire connection between his suit and you. The current is... cool. It's sluggish but it's clean. You can feel the echo of Blue in that current, it's not vivid and vibrant as you would expect, betraying just how heavily disabled Blue is, like a beaten servant broken to the point of utter unquestioning and wordless submission. It is no longer a suspicion, it is his pilot which is in complete and undeniable control of Blue.

"I got you," he comments, "yeah this is some virus alright. Let's see if we can- hangon." With a few mechanical clicks and clasps you see him remove the lower part of his right arm exposing a human hand and lower arm. "Your interface is a bit sensitive." In contradiction, the pilot's touch is warm and confident as he commands your software defences down with fingertips along your back.

To steady either you or himself he places his other hand half around your waist.

"This is going to take some time," he mutters quietly, half to himself. "I'll just see if I can get it to jump instead."

The cool echo of Blue is compliant and opens its ports to receive the raging virus without hesitation.

This is when the doors to the workshop bursts open.

I'll do it. Because, I don't know. Because I don't want to get shot. Because I want these people to have food. Because I want to get to that lab. Because I feel like I can do some good. Because it's been a goddamn long time since I did anything this stupid and I am too old for this but that's exactly what makes it feel so good.

[4+6-1=9.]

You do it! The air is challenging you the entire way and you have to push much harder than you think is advisable to keep up with Kal'Zorah. Maybe he's just that much more fit than you, or maybe there is something about the Quarian suit that makes breathing less hazardous. The ground is softer and harder to negotiate than expected and your progress is not as fast as Vectra had calculated. You get there, yes, but you get there either in secret by burning through not only your own cloak but the spare one as well, or your cover is blown and you're seen before you manage to throw yourself through the Workshop doors.

Which is it?

Kal'Zorah makes it just before you and his cloak fizzles out just as he throws his shoulder at the workshop door and tumbles inside closely followed by everyone's favourite Doctor.

Inside you see White Horse up on a catwalk above busy working on... something technical. 239 is stood to one side being... serviced? by another Nemean. The place is littered by 239's Nemean gang who are busy gradually turning the place over without any system or pattern whatsoever.

In a single second every Nemean, including Blue (whose hold around 239's waist tightens as he angles her in to cover behind him), has a weapon aimed at you, raised in exact unison from almost every corner of the Workshop.

What do you do?

Exactly why she's perfect for the job. You don't want someone who looks like they might hesitate.

"Commander Prolus. You will have your forces stand down, including any invisibles, and all your people out here in an orderly and calm manner," she said, as the obvious first order of business. There was no anger or malice in her voice now, it was the voice of someone just going through routine checks and orders. "Before someone triggers an unfortunate misunderstanding. If any are wounded, our doctor will see to their needs. I assume she is already hard at work. You can trust her to do her job. You will inform her, also, that she is needed at her infirmary as soon as she is able.

"A quarian was in our camp. She is in a critical condition and was being treated in isolation at the infirmary. I can only assume an attempt was made to extract her by force. Very unfortunate." There was a bit of hardness in her voice and eyes just then. "I am not aware of her current status, but I will not see her moved or disturbed in any way, until she has recovered and I have had a chance to speak to her alone."

She paused, eyes lingering on the horizon over his shoulder for a moment, then she looked back at him and added, "Going forward, you will provide us with weapons and other equipment. We offer fair trade in return, for what you may need, though I won't say your people will be immediately welcomed. Such trust has to be earned."

"What we need, is food," Prolus says darkly. "Dextro food. Not something this planet has a lot of. Your Doctor is good, if somewhat... opinionated. She has already seen to several wounded and has promised to solve the problem of our food shortage as her top priority."

He visibly swallows a chunk of his pride before he continues.

"All stand down. Return to camp. Resume front line and lay down arms." he speaks in to his comm and by the look on his face it seems to almost cause him physical pain to do so.

"You spineless coward," Stars spits.

"We have long since stopped expecting to feel any kind of welcome on Earth, Captain," Prolus continues, ignoring Stars. "If you wish to keep my men under control I would strongly suggest letting me command at your side. They will not follow a human."

What do you do?

Because she's an Outsider.

Dangerous words. So much hate. They don't surprise me, comin' from that mouth, but they shape the darkness behind my eyes into a place I swore I'd never see again.

Dry. Red. A blank, grey sky overhead that ain't bringing rain. No rain for millions of years. Not a body in sight either, live or dead. Once, there were faces, voices, names I could never remember, but it's been so long, I'm not sure they were ever real.

Hunger. Thirst. Burning skin in sun and frozen bones in moonshade. Silence.

No. Not silence.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Constantly. It slows when the cold nights begin, but I can barely sleep, it's so loud.

Eventually came a new sound, at the edge of my hearing. It gets louder until it fills me with its sweet and terrible Wail. I spend the days, scrabbling in the dust for bugs escaped from the Domes, singing in tune to its metallic scream.

I laughed, the day Ahab found me. I saw her mouth movin', but her words come out as Wail. I laughed, cos my singing had brought her to me.

She had me tied then, and I was caged, but there was food, water, shelter, voices. I was grateful, even for the beatings, cos these faces and bodies were real.

But I'd hear them, talkin' about how they was gonna 'ditch' me, cos I dunno what Angry and Sad and Funny and Quiet are. Cos they dunno what my mind might do to 'em. Cos I'm Not One of Them. That's when I understand- be like them, watch and copy, and you ain’t gonna be left behind ever again.

So- Play calls Tessa 'Outsider', not me. Maybe I've made the cut, finally. Or maybe I'm another type of person, not Outside, but still not 'one of them'.

It's time to rise above my fear and face what it is that I really need- to surround myself with them like me.

I look into the World Beyond and wonder where and who they are.

[Opening Dave's Brain to the Psychic Maelstrom: 5+2=7]

"Dave?" it might be Play's voice. It could be Ahab. Maybe Tenshi, or Legs, or your mum.

"Dave?!"

"You useless piece of f'cked up crazy-"

"Pick the Red one. Red is your colour. Red will serve you."

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF!"

"If everyone could just be quiet for a minute."

"Drink. Eat. Breathe. Repeat. That's the secret."

It hurts a little. Then again hurt is less of a thing now than it was. It's just a bit more cold. A bit less numb, but not by much. Limbs and fingers and toes and knees are not a thing anymore, and it's kind of weird that they ever were.

The only thing you feel certain of is that everything you hear, see, feel, smell and touch is probably not real. You're alive but someone's done something to you and you are not in Watercross anymore. You're stood on the side of a street with high-rising buildings behind you and in front of you. The street is straight as an arrow for as far as you can see and it is crowded with yellow cars with next to no armaments and absolutely zero weapons. People are walking on either side of the street in both directions, bumping in to each other and milling without any organisation. The sky above is grey, glimpsing between the tall buildings, which look like they touch the clouds.

"You gonna stand there all day?" The voice behind you is Tessa and as you turn around she stands in the middle of the crowd, but no one bumps in to her. She is smiling.

[Anarion]

Spotted, definitely. It's already a party in here and I'm perfectly comfortable being seen as long as I'm not shot. An instant going in the door is fine with me. Having a cloaking device for later sounds really useful.

"Don't shoot! We mean no harm!" I put my hands up immediately. "Horse, 239, tell them you know me! I'm a doctor!" I'm really hoping that Kal'Zorah knows better than to do something stupid with this many guns and mechs with good aim. Let's leave out that 239 and I might not have the best opinion of each other for a moment, both of them still know me and I really hope they both don't want me to get shot.

[Severan]

Looking at Tessa, a hot, itchy feeling rises up from my chest, up my neck, to my ears, which suddenly feel like they're burning. I think this could be feeling Shame. Shame at what I said to Play, cos mebbe it wasn't completely true.

I don't recognise this place, but all the colours and sounds are quiet here- they don't come at me, and I feel calm. At peace.

I reach out to Tessa. "Where are we going?"

[Thanqol]

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," he mutters. "Damn, if I'd had that authentication code a year ago it certainly would have made piecing the other suits together a lot easier. And a lot less... painful." With two subtle clicks he has established a hardwire connection between his suit and you. The current is... cool. It's sluggish but it's clean. You can feel the echo of Blue in that current, it's not vivid and vibrant as you would expect, betraying just how heavily disabled Blue is, like a beaten servant broken to the point of utter unquestioning and wordless submission. It is no longer a suspicion, it is his pilot which is in complete and undeniable control of Blue.

"I got you," he comments, "yeah this is some virus alright. Let's see if we can- hangon." With a few mechanical clicks and clasps you see him remove the lower part of his right arm exposing a human hand and lower arm. "Your interface is a bit sensitive." In contradiction, the pilot's touch is warm and confident as he commands your software defences down with fingertips along your back.

To steady either you or himself he places his other hand half around your waist.

"This is going to take some time," he mutters quietly, half to himself. "I'll just see if I can get it to jump instead."

The cool echo of Blue is compliant and opens its ports to receive the raging virus without hesitation.

An analogy for a human might be a warm shower after months in the desert.

Nemean 239 melts. Proper codes. Proper procedures. Proper engineering support performed by an authorized, awake human Nemean pilot. Not field salvage and repairs performed manually, not arms-lengths patchup jobs done by an alien horse whose qualifications are 'enthusiasm' and 'curiosity'. And to get a glimpse of Blue's mind - diligent, compliant, assisting rather than thinking. Her mind swoons. She wants that. She wants the smooth perfection of serving as an extension of will, not having to think about the what or why, just the how. She envies Blue for his pilot.

It's a wonderful, blissful moment where the world makes sense and she doesn't have to do any of that damn thinking.

This is when the doors to the workshop bursts open.

...

In a single second every Nemean, including Blue (whose hold around 239's waist tightens as he angles her in to cover behind him), has a weapon aimed at you, raised in exact unison from almost every corner of the Workshop.

What do you do?

239 is only vaguely paying attention to what's going on, but she's feeling like going with the flow here so she joins the chorus of raising her weapon along with the rest.

Spotted, definitely. It's already a party in here and I'm perfectly comfortable being seen as long as I'm not shot. An instant going in the door is fine with me. Having a cloaking device for later sounds really useful.

"Don't shoot! We mean no harm!" I put my hands up immediately. "Horse, 239, tell them you know me! I'm a doctor!" I'm really hoping that Kal'Zorah knows better than to do something stupid with this many guns and mechs with good aim. Let's leave out that 239 and I might not have the best opinion of each other for a moment, both of them still know me and I really hope they both don't want me to get shot.

Hmmm... 239's mind lazily drifts through the moment, reading the tactical possibilities but not feeling like she's forced to make a decision. "Identity confirmed. She is a civilian doctor and no immediate threat," says 239 sedately. Just information there like she'd give to her pilot on HUD, not a moral declaration that she then needs to back up. If Blue wants to make something of it that's up to him.

[Raz_Fox]

“NO SHOOTING IN MY WORKSHOP.”

That is the rule! Please respect the rule. I dangle upside rightside from the catwalk, mane dangling. “Doctor’s good! Good doctor. Doctor, come over here. I want your opinion on this.”

Be a good doctor and come over, yeah?

[Anarion]

“NO SHOOTING IN MY WORKSHOP.”

That is the rule! Please respect the rule. I dangle upside rightside from the catwalk, mane dangling. “Doctor’s good! Good doctor. Doctor, come over here. I want your opinion on this.”

Be a good doctor and come over, yeah?

Yeah, totally. Yes, I am coming over where the horse directs me to come over, as long as nobody is shooting me and they are lowering the guns I am doing all of the coming over to that exact spot where the gesturing is pointing at and looking at the thing I am supposed to look at. What am I supposed to look at exactly?

[Elanorin]

Looking at Tessa, a hot, itchy feeling rises up from my chest, up my neck, to my ears, which suddenly feel like they're burning. I think this could be feeling Shame. Shame at what I said to Play, cos mebbe it wasn't completely true.

I don't recognise this place, but all the colours and sounds are quiet here- they don't come at me, and I feel calm. At peace.

I reach out to Tessa. "Where are we going?"

"You're asking me?" Tessa says with a lopsided smile.

"You're the one in command." She points at your head. On top of it sits a hat, it's a grand tricorne with gold trim lacing around the upturned brims and a plume of white feather on one side. "And this thing will go wherever, however and whenever you want." She points at the shimmering bluish holographic projection of an ancient rug under your feet.

"So where to, Captain?"

Spotted, definitely. It's already a party in here and I'm perfectly comfortable being seen as long as I'm not shot. An instant going in the door is fine with me. Having a cloaking device for later sounds really useful.

"Don't shoot! We mean no harm!" I put my hands up immediately. "Horse, 239, tell them you know me! I'm a doctor!" I'm really hoping that Kal'Zorah knows better than to do something stupid with this many guns and mechs with good aim. Let's leave out that 239 and I might not have the best opinion of each other for a moment, both of them still know me and I really hope they both don't want me to get shot.

Hmmm... 239's mind lazily drifts through the moment, reading the tactical possibilities but not feeling like she's forced to make a decision. "Identity confirmed. She is a civilian doctor and no immediate threat," says 239 sedately. Just information there like she'd give to her pilot on HUD, not a moral declaration that she then needs to back up. If Blue wants to make something of it that's up to him.

“NO SHOOTING IN MY WORKSHOP.”

That is the rule! Please respect the rule. I dangle upside rightside from the catwalk, mane dangling. “Doctor’s good! Good doctor. Doctor, come over here. I want your opinion on this.”

Be a good doctor and come over, yeah?

Yeah, totally. Yes, I am coming over where the horse directs me to come over, as long as nobody is shooting me and they are lowering the guns I am doing all of the coming over to that exact spot where the gesturing is pointing at and looking at the thing I am supposed to look at. What am I supposed to look at exactly?

No one shoots. For now.

Kal'Zorah is momentarily frozen on the spot he landed when realising the sheer amount of weaponry aimed at him. He moves to follow you but finds that all the weapons remain trained on him and he hesitates.

"Who's the quarian?" Blue hollers after Kal'kolak as she heads up to White Horse on the upper level.

One of the Helpful Nemeans, marked H, echoes the Horse's rule and lowers their weapon.

"No shooting in the workshop," and tries to grab the weapon of the other Helpful Nemean next to it, marked Dex. This clearly goes against a Directive and so Dex resists and tries to disarm H instead, the third Helpful Nemean, marked L-12, joins in. This quickly descends in to a robot fist fight that ends up crashing in to anything and everything around them. Nuts, bolts, gravkeys, spare parts and wires begin to rain down from the upper level.

"No shooting in the workshop."

"No shooting in the workshop."

Mean while every other Nemean in here still has its gun trained on the quarian.

"Doc?" Kal'Zorah calls from below, clearly hoping for assistance here, raising both hands in the air.

Blue's pilot places a hand on 239's raised plasma gun to beckon her to lower it.

"I think they've got this," he says and lowers his too. He returns to his work after the disruption and you can feel the palpable relief of the virus leaving you. Blue twitches as it starts to ravage through his systems but is still compliant and silent. "So... if you know this doctor, why haven't you submitted your pilot to her?" he asks and that's when you realise he is scanning your Directives and your internal systems log, you know, where the countless ignored commands for resets etc are stored.

Once more he grabs you and pulls you closer, just as a lithium battery comes crashing down from above, missing you by inches.

[Anarion]

"That's Kal'Zorah. A Quarian from the dextro camp. I've promised to help them make food. You know, my goal being to have fewer medical emergencies and not have a huge contingent of people dying. I would have thought it's a simple goal. I thought of you first, White Horse, if anybody can figure out a way to make a sustainable source of dextro food here, it's you. I uh, wasn't expecting you to have guests over though, but I'm sure one more won't hurt anything and Kal'Zorah has been a very helpful assistant for me today."

I move over to look at whatever White Horse was gesturing to, pointedly ignoring the fighting Nemeans because that is eminently outside my sphere of expertise.

[Thanqol]

"No shooting in the workshop," and tries to grab the weapon of the other Helpful Nemean next to it, marked Dex. This clearly goes against a Directive and so Dex resists and tries to disarm H instead, the third Helpful Nemean, marked L-12, joins in. This quickly descends in to a robot fist fight that ends up crashing in to anything and everything around them. Nuts, bolts, gravkeys, spare parts and wires begin to rain down from the upper level.

"No shooting in the workshop."

"No shooting in the workshop."

This is fine.

Blue's pilot places a hand on 239's raised plasma gun to beckon her to lower it.

"I think they've got this," he says and lowers his too. He returns to his work after the disruption and you can feel the palpable relief of the virus leaving you. Blue twitches as it starts to ravage through his systems but is still compliant and silent. "So... if you know this doctor, why haven't you submitted your pilot to her?" he asks and that's when you realise he is scanning your Directives and your internal systems log, you know, where the countless ignored commands for resets etc are stored.

Once more he grabs you and pulls you closer, just as a lithium battery comes crashing down from above, missing you by inches.

A status report. Ah~. 239 had the answer to this question memorized. months ago. "My pilot has been compromised mentally. An Enemy attack disrupted the minds of the vast majority of organic beings on the battlefield causing widespread insanity. My medical systems have maintained my pilot in peak physical condition so there is no need to procure the services of a trauma surgeon."

Some of 239's systems abruptly become nervous and guarded when they realize the systems log is under scrutiny. Some of her interactions were... flippant. Not befitting of a Nemean combat suit. For the first time she feels exposed when the full extent of her own damage is put on display, but she quickly takes pride in that she can justify everything by following her Directives even at the expense of her own system integrity. She has just performed field restructuring to meet the demands of the Directive in a changed environment. No different from salvaging parts from destroyed suits. Any good robot would do the same.

[Severan]

I don't remember wearin' anything on my head before, 'cept my scarf and a biosuit helmet, but this hat thing feels like I shoulda been born with it.

"I wanna find someone who knows about the Infection, in the darkness. Also, this place is very, very shiny."

I take Tessa's hand and lead her onto the shimmering blue carpet-thing. My mouth shapes to Show Teeth at her, but this time, something like happiness is behind it.

"Let's take a look around".

I sit cross-legged, and help Tessa sit next to me. I point my arm upwards and a little ahead of me, to direct the carpet to fly, looking for a silver, bullet-shaped, towering structure.

[stveje]

"What we need, is food," Prolus says darkly. "Dextro food. Not something this planet has a lot of. Your Doctor is good, if somewhat... opinionated. She has already seen to several wounded and has promised to solve the problem of our food shortage as her top priority."

He visibly swallows a chunk of his pride before he continues.

"All stand down. Return to camp. Resume front line and lay down arms." he speaks in to his comm and by the look on his face it seems to almost cause him physical pain to do so.

"You spineless coward," Stars spits.

"We have long since stopped expecting to feel any kind of welcome on Earth, Captain," Prolus continues, ignoring Stars. "If you wish to keep my men under control I would strongly suggest letting me command at your side. They will not follow a human."

What do you do?

"As mine wouldn't take orders from a Turian," Ahab says, understanding well. In this, at least, they're not so different. "Trying to bring an entire flock of turians into my fold will only earn me headaches, and I dislike micromanaging. It is enough for me that your people follow your word, Commander ... so long as you follow mine.

"While you won't be accepted easily as one of our own, you'll find our market open to all. Dextro food may be rare, but I wouldn't underestimate our ability to scrounge up anything you might need. However, if the doctor is already on it, all the better. I am sure we will all benefit."

She turns her head and calls over her shoulder, "K-9, inform Legs and his ... team to get their asses out here, now." If they've already planted the gas, good, she thinks. It doesn't hurt to leave it, in case they ever need to detonate it after all. And if K-9 just happens to convey that, also ... well, who is Ahab to complain?

[Raz_Fox]

Okay, so, Doc, here's the situation. I actually called you over here so that I could hug you. This was my sneaky, clever plan.

"I am very glad that you are not dead," I say, into your neck. "Here's what's up: Niners wants me to make her a great big comm channel to scream up at the sky, which is a pretty good idea, yeah? Blues there has a pilot, but, like, an actual pilot, and do you want to help me make a great big yelling tower to heaven? Also, thank you for not being dead. That's great."

It is great! I was so scared. I thought you got shot! It's been a long day.