"So, metal bich, do yous guys knows about da Wreckahs?"
"Indeed, I have been gathering information on the Rectified Church of the Martryred Saints, or the 'Wreckers' as they are nicknamed. I predict they will be entering the Cumberland Gap and the Hudson Valley by this Fall. I have run many permutations, and I believe they pose no serious threat to me or my polity."
"Indeed, I have been gathering information on the Rectified Church of the Martryred Saints, or the 'Wreckers' as they are nicknamed. I predict they will be entering the Cumberland Gap and the Hudson Valley by this Fall. I have run many permutations, and I believe they pose no serious threat to me or my polity."
"So, metal bich, do yous guys knows about da Wreckahs?"
"If they ain't a threat, then why do they call 'em 'Wreckers'? If I were you, which I'm not 'course, I'd pay 'em quite a bit of mind."
Germain address one of the androids while the others are occupied.
"Tell me," Germain says in lowered tones, "is it that you don't fear the wreakers because you don't have anything they want? I mean pure blooded humans?"
"Indeed, I have been gathering information on the Rectified Church of the Martyred Saints, or the 'Wreckers' as they are nicknamed. I predict they will be entering the Cumberland Gap and the Hudson Valley by this Fall. I have run many permutations, and I believe they pose no serious threat to me or my polity."
"So, metal bich, do yous guys knows about da Wreckahs?"
"Yer math is off, tin man. The Wreckers can't stand non-humans. Once they're done killing all the mutie humans and the Verminont types, they'll come here - and then ya'll be alone. Better to nip the purist mofos in the bud, don't ya think?"
<Coca waves the diplomatic papers in front of the android.>
"Well, yous must gots a defense hagainst deir hEMP weapons--soz deir conventional weapons must not seem so killah as dey duz to us...."
<Puts his arm around the android like an old buddy.>
"But dig, as my main bruva Roach said, yous migh do da maf on deir force wiv a lidda more researchin, see. Cuz I gets, fa exampo, dat yous iz not inquirin about deir forces in any ways from doze who'z returnin from da front lines, oderwise you'd ave asked us fa any 411 dat we gots, insteada jus braggin' bout your unassailability."
"And frankwise, if yous for real were all-checkin, all-knowin, then you'd know dat rukin it up divided iz neva da s!%&. So yous go ahead and stays all locked up in da house in yo shiny towa wit yo... f*@+ed short grass and s!%%... <waves at the lawn> while weez gettin dirty. When da wolves come, dey'z gonna burn yous out wiv da fires of enlightenment, digital bruva."
<Pats the android on the back, then pushes it away.>
"United we stands, bruva, divided we falls."
<Looks at his friends.>
"Let's blow dis gig, bruvas, deyz not playin in da real worl."
The android walks off and another small sphere zips in, projecting the infinity symbol again
While my assesment of the situation deals with parameters that you cannot be aware of, the information about EMP weapons is a new permutation. Does not the operating parameters of their code prohibit the use of such weapons?
"Why would their code stop them from using such weapons? EMP doesn't harm humans, after all. The Wreckers like zappin' things with EMP, just in case there might be androids around."
"Besides. You gots records. I asks you, can yous tell me one exampo of a religion dat always follows it's religious code in warfare? Compute dat paramadah, footbah. And does yous reaaaally fink dey gonna let yous stays in control heah?"
"BWAAAAAAAAK!"
"BWAAAAAAAAK!"
"Word, fine feathered friend, word. Yous gots more smarts dan OMNUS dere Kernul."
Sherman looks around confused as hell, not quite sure who he should talk to and baffled by the talk of EMP weapons.
He interjects various "Ya mon!" and "Righteous!" into the conversation when he agrees (or understands) part of the conversation that Coca, Roach and the Borg Collective are having.
Turning to Marley he giggles, points at Colonel Sanders and whispers, a little too loud, "Da Brotha Coca be talkin to da Chicken!"
"Besides. You gots records. I asks you, can yous tell me one exampo of a religion dat always follows it's religious code in warfare? Compute dat paramadah, footbah. And does yous reaaaally fink dey gonna let yous stays in control heah?"
As I can easily defend myself and my polity, I am certain that I can stay in control. I cannot allow my polity to be contaminated by outside forces. In the event they should disregard their philosophical parameters, they have no EMP weapon capable of destroying my network. My servers are distributed over a large area and in many cases are sheilded.
"But what about the people living here?! Surely in some long-forgotten circuit of yours you have an inkling of compassion for what the Wreckers would do to your citizens!"
<Coca turns away from the ball.>
"Whateva. Let's roll."
<Coca turns away from the ball.>
"Whateva. Let's roll."
"Seconded."
Germain address one of the androids while the others are occupied.
"Tell me," Germain says in lowered tones, "is it that you don't fear the wreakers because you don't have anything they want? I mean pure blooded humans?"
Germain waits for a reply
Germain waits for a reply
My poilty is actually a haven for multiple racial groups. I have many baseline human genome citizens as well as mutated humans and intellegent animal-descended citizens. This polity is based on a philosophy of tolerance, social responsibility and order.
"But what about the people living here?! Surely in some long-forgotten circuit of yours you have an inkling of compassion for what the Wreckers would do to your citizens!"
My citizens will defend this polity to the best of their abilities. It is their responsibility to uphold the cohesiveness of our polity. If we are attacked some will die, but the whole will endure.
Germain nods and adds a note to her GUIDE.
"Alright I'm done here," Germain says, "let's get to Ne Ork."
Sherman has a moment of inspiration and turns back to the android/sphere, "What about supplies mon?" he asks. "If da I and I raise a righteous army of breden, will da I trade supplies?"
<Leans over to Roach.>
"Wot did e say?"
"He wants to know if we can buy guns n's*%# here once we come back through with a bunch of hard Nu Orkers. I think."
"He wants to know if we can buy guns n's~~& here once we come back through with a bunch of hard Nu Orkers. I think."
"That's what I gathered, at least."
The small sphere projects a smiley face
I am sure that if you have a force, I can supply some weapons. I am more willing to supply medical and logistical supplies instead, but I do manufacture weapons for defense on a small scale.
The sphere goes back to an infinity symbol projection
If you are planning on visiting the Gangs of Nu Ork, perhaps you can find me any quantuum xbit memory cubes. They were very plentiful in the old Manhattan Arcology, and I am unable to replicate them at this point. If you bring me some I will trade them for the supplies you need. Do you have a sensorium-type machine or any computing equipment with memory storage? I can download their description and specifications.
... Do you have a sensorium-type machine or any computing equipment with memory storage? I can download their description and specifications.
"Sorries bro, jes meat." <Taps his temple.>
<Looks over at Germain. "Now girly-girl there... I fink she's packin'."
"I have something that should work," Germain says, "it's got a universal jack. Show me to an access port."
"I have something that should work," Germain says, "it's got a universal jack. Show me to an access port."
I have a full wireless grid in my polity. Simply identify the machine and power it on and I should be able to do the rest.
"I am currently monitoring your chatter," Germain says, pushing a few buttons, "let me open a safe port, try 2705. Should show as GER 327."
"I am currently monitoring your chatter," Germain says, pushing a few buttons, "let me open a safe port, try 2705. Should show as GER 327."
Accessing ...
Germain's GUIDE starts receiving a schmatics file of the memory cubes
Thank you
"Manhattan Arcology. Nu Ork clans. Let's become da streets, bruvas."
<Coca sling his rifle up onto the Colonel and takes to foot beside her.>
"BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK!"
"I've seen these before," Germain says, "if we find any we'll be sure to trade them."
Germain climbs up onto her horse Moonbeam. It's oddly predatorial eyes scan the seemingly peaceful landscape. Perhaps tonight Germain would set it loose to hunt.
"Righteous bro, Da I an I would be shakin ya paw if da I had one" he looks at one of his hands, then salutes instead. "Da I be seein ya on da flip side mon."
He mounts up on his plain old boring horse and looks around at the freaks the others are riding.
"BWAAAAAAAK!"
"Manhattan Arcology. Nu Ork clans. Let's become da streets, bruvas."
"Fair 'nough. Let's ride."
He pauses. There seems to be a problem.
"I can't ride a horse. I'd crush it to death."
"You need one of those giant beetles," Germain notes, "they smell awful, are ugly as sin, and are dumber then a bag of hammers, but they're strong and pretty fast as long as it's a straight line."
"You need one of those giant beetles," Germain notes, "they smell awful, are ugly as sin, and are dumber then a bag of hammers, but they're strong and pretty fast as long as it's a straight line."
"Where would I get myself one?"
"BWAAAAAAAK!"
