Commander Shepard made the ultimate sacrifice to [red energy]DESTROY [/red energy] the Reapers. Eight years later, the survivors of the war seek to put the galaxy back together.
Dern's wide eyes narrow at the man on the deck. He is rather speechless as he considers the implications of this.
Spoiler:
You remember the transmission about him but it could have been another human. They seem so similar, but you can tell there is evidence of genetic modification with this one. The eyes are a touch too large, the stance a bit too ready. If you are correct this one is one of those Cerebus one-shots, a mix of genetic modification and cybernetics with an eye towards a more salarian style of "asymmetrical warfare", as the humans call it. Interesting.
"Wow," Hestia breathes, gaping at her childhood hero standing next to the captain, awestruck. "Just wow. That's impossible!"
Then the truth of that exclamation hits home, and reality does a dangerous slip to the left and an alarming wobble. He's can't be here, a Cerberus asset on an Alliance ship. Is this a dream? She touches fingertips to the nearest bulkhead, which is reassuringly firm and vibrating with normal ship operations. I don't have to pee, so this is probably real.
She glances down at herself and is alarmed to see she's definitely not the seven- or eight-year-old who watched the vids about this guy. Her mind churns frantically to put the data together, trying to make any sense of this. Cerberus operative on a Cerberus ship with a Cerberus trainee on board... is he here to rescue her from this Alliance mess? Or was this all a Cerberus training op? Has she washed out for cooperating with the Alliance? Is he here to 'graduate' her with extreme prejudice?
Adrenaline floods her system when she can't come up with answers that hold water. A frantic query to her AI produces only the usual rebound headache. They shut down my AI and now they're shutting me down.
Skittering a few steps from her so-called "teammates" - if that's what they are - she calls blue fire to surround herself from whatever backstabbing is happening here.
Barrier
"What. The f!+#. Is happening here?" she snarls, panting.
At the sight of a biotic barrier, Theron instinctively raises his own, Verrax was right to tell me to look over my shoulder -- though I didn't think this would happen so openly... though it would at least wait until an 'accident' or 'ambush' during a mission...
He fights the urge to draw his blade, ... not the best odds, especially since I don't have the slightest idea of who's on what side.., though he can't quite stop his left hand from twitching. As he tries to figure out next steps, he can almost hear the old Krogan's voice in his head, Save your clips for the enemy, kid, there's more than enough of those to go around...
He forces himself to take a calming breath, then channels Verrax, "Let's take a second to figure that out -- while we're still in a state where we can."
Captain Arpin's voice is unusually sharp- "Stand DOWN." This is an order, not an option. He walks between the two biotics with a practiced 4 eyed icy glare split between them.
"It seems no introductions are in order, but as a formality this is Theron Iskos. He will be joining you going forward."
More than a little blindsided by both the appearance of the newcomer and by Hestia's outburst, Grace doesn't even try to stop her young teammate, instead merely staring at the man across from her. Over the course of the handful of seconds that pass, her expression shifts from incredulity, to anger, then to a hardened, calculating appraisal.
As the captain addresses the group, Grace salutes, all the while keeping a steady eye on the new officer.
More than a little blindsided by both the appearance of the newcomer and by Hestia's outburst, Grace doesn't even try to stop her young teammate, instead merely staring at the man across from her. Over the course of the handful of seconds that pass, her expression shifts from incredulity, to anger, then to a hardened, calculating appraisal.
As the captain addresses the group, Grace salutes, all the while keeping a steady eye on the new officer.
"Captain, a word, if I may? In private?"
Captain Arpin positively impales the biotics with his glares- there's a reason he's in charge- before stepping away with you.
Theron holds a moment at the command, then steps back and releases his barrier... even if his left hand does keep twitching slightly. He straightens himself up, turning his amber eyes on the biotic woman, "Your turn."
Dern continues to gape at the newcomer, his long Salarian fingers twitching with the sudden tension. As Grace and the captain step aside, he lets the silence marinate a bit.
At length, he simply asks in a clear voice, ”So, community service, then?” His narrowed eyes are clearly at odds with the casual tone of the question.
Theron's half-smile broadens slightly, and he takes a moment before responding, "More a matter of someone not wanting to let a useful weapon go to waste, I think...." He shrugs, "Of course, the full answer's a lot more complicated. But, I volunteered to be here, and not because the option was prison."
Being yelled at somehow seems to settle the young biotic a little.
"But Captain, Sarge... this guy was on all the vids at the... when I... before. He's Cerberus. He's a..." the distressed biotic hisses at the officers and bites off the sentence before she ends up saying hero.
And now the new guy has dropped his barrier. Possible death or looking like a fool or a coward? It's an easy choice at eighteen.
Hestia abruptly releases the barrier and edges nearer Dern, eyes white-rimmed and sucking air like someone at high altitude.
Captain Arpin positively impales the biotics with his glares- there's a reason he's in charge- before stepping away with you.
Once they're safely out of earshot, Grace addresses the captain in a low, uncharacteristically tense voice.
Spoiler:
"Sir, where did he come from? I recognized him as soon as I set eyes on him. That man is a Cerberus assassin wanted by the Alliance. He's..."
Grace balls her hands into fists, closing her eyes for a second before falling back into parade rest. She takes a deep breath before continuing.
"I've read the Alliance bulletins, and I know that Theron Iskios has killed good people, Captain. I don't know how he got onto this ship or into that uniform, but, with all due respect, I can't in good conscience have him on my team."
Theron's half-smile broadens slightly, and he takes a moment before responding, "More a matter of someone not wanting to let a useful weapon go to waste, I think...." He shrugs, "Of course, the full answer's a lot more complicated. But, I volunteered to be here, and not because the option was prison."
Hestia looks to Dern and says softly, "Could be. The Alliance doesn't squander resources, especially biotics. Even if they're broken. Or... or whatever."
Captain Arpin positively impales the biotics with his glares- there's a reason he's in charge- before stepping away with you.
Once they're safely out of earshot, Grace addresses the captain in a low, uncharacteristically tense voice.
** spoiler omitted **
Spoiler:
The Captain looks tired, very very tired, for a moment. Then, he straightens up in a position you recognize from every D.I. you ever met, much less trained under. "In another time and place I might agree with you, Sergeant. But in that time and place there is a good chance our peoples would have been on opposite sides of the field, as it were. I dont like it much- I have seen much of the same Intel you have. But it is a different world now, and we are all different people. We are going to have to work with people we would shoot on sight before. And some of us," he says, clapping you on the shoulder"may have to go as far as to break bed with them." The mangling of the human saying is painful, considering the situation, but it breaks some of the tension. He adds more seriously,"The volus says there is a hero somewhere in all of you. Maybe there is one in him as well. I will keep a few eyes on him. If he doesn't pass you the mustard, I will let him know. For now, however, he is a part of your squad."
Dern nods slowly at Hestia, still not taking his eyes off the newcomer. "Frankly, I could see STG doing the same. I thought the Alliance might be better than that sort of thing. I suppose I was wrong... for once."
The alarums and excursions and confusion and consternation have just about convinced Hestia that reality - for once - is on the up-and-up. The panic starts to ebb, and the air finally seems to contain sufficient oxygen. She watches Grace and the Captain for a moment, then steals a quick look at Theron (whose eyes she avoids) before returning to Dern.
"C'mon, Dern. When you're up against a ruthless organization, principles are a handicap."
The Captain looks tired, very very tired, for a moment. Then, he straightens up in a position you recognize from every D.I. you ever met, much less trained under.
"In another time and place I might agree with you, Sergeant. But in that time and place there is a good chance our peoples would have been on opposite sides of the field, as it were. I dont like it much- I have seen much of the same intel you have. But it is a different world now, and we are all different people. We are going to have to work with people we would shoot on sight before. And some of us," he says, clapping Grace on the shoulder, "may have to go as far as to break beds with them."
The mangling of the human saying is painful, considering the situation, but it breaks some of the tension. He adds more seriously, "The volus says there is a hero somewhere in all of you. Maybe there is one in him as well. I will keep a few eyes on him. If he doesn't pass you the mustard, I will let him know. For now, however, he is a part of your squad."
Spoiler:
Though she remains at parade rest, Grace's posture straightens as she takes a deep, steadying breath, pausing for a moment before speaking.
"Alright, Captain. Out of respect for you, I'll handle it, and I appreciate your patience with a subordinate, but you have to understand, this man is a war criminal. There's no telling whether or not he'll stab us in the back, and if that happens, I won't be able to guarantee his safety."
For a few moments, Grace falls out of position, her body sagging as she rubs her eyes with thumb and forefinger.
"I apologize for speaking out of turn. I know this isn't the Corps, and protocol is different... I just want you to know that I say this out of concern for my squad. They've proven themselves, but given my experiences with Cerberus, I absolutely cannot trust this... assassin. Not after what happened at Aravis."
Shooting a glance back at the ongoing standoff on the other side of the bridge, Grace turns her gaze back to the captain, giving him a meaningful look.
"I'll do what I can, sir, and I hope you're right, but... there's a real chance this will end badly."
She snaps to attention and salutes, then makes as if to return to the rest of the squad, but stops for a second, turning around to give the captain a genuine half-smile.
"By the way, Captain... it's "break bread" and "pass muster." For next time."
After a brief conversation with the captain, Grace heads back to the small group assembled on the other side of the bridge, appearing significantly less relaxed than usual, almost as if on autopilot. Stopping short of the three officers, she settles into a stiff parade rest, but then seems to think better of it, for a moment appearing more than a little uncertain. She regains her composure, however, snapping out orders in an uncharacteristically harsh tone.
"Harper, Dern, return to quarters and rest up. We're still a fair bit out from Noveria, and we'll all need to be in top form."
Turning to Theron, she fixes him with a glare that seems as if it might melt through the hull of the ship.
"You. Meet me on the observation deck in ten for debriefing. Squad dismissed."
Theron's eyes narrow at the glare, Well, it seems that the Captain's orders only extend to his line of sight... Still, calm, Theron. You'll need to let her hit you... maybe more than once... before you can defend yourself. Otherwise they'll just claim you attacked and probably space you...
He rocks his head from side to side, loosening it, and the small bit of warmth in his eyes from Dern's observation fades, even as his crooked smile broadens, "I'll head right there. Wouldn't want to get lost and be late," he says in a neutral tone. And to ensure there's no time to set up an ambush...
At the word Noveria, Hestia lets out a small, distressed squeak, like a squashed pyjak, but otherwise remains silent, studying her commander and the newcomer with quick, nervous eyes. The look Grace gives Theron is a new one in her experience, and, studying the woman's scars, she finally realizes that the kind, patient commander might be every bit as dangerous as anyone she's ever met.
I don't like this one bit. And we're headed to a very bad place. Oh well. Gotta try something.
She waits for a beat after Grace's orders, then lets Theron finish his statement of -- was that aquiescence? -- and begin moving away. Then she takes a breath, throws her best salute, and addresses Grace, remaining at stiff attention, retaining the salute, and staring far past the bulkhead.
"Yes, Sergeant! May I speak to you in private before I go."
Her eyes dart to catch Grace's for a moment as she barely breathes the word "please."
At least they're ready to kill each other, not me. There's a bright side to everything.
"Yes, Sergeant! May I speak to you in private before I go."
Her eyes dart to catch Grace's for a moment as she barely breathes the word "please."
"Go ahead, Harper. You've got five minutes," Grace says, more tersely than intended. Softening a bit, she looks down at the deck for a second, then continues with a much less formal demeanor, massaging the back of her neck with one hand.
"I apologize, I've just been a bit blindsided by all of this, and I did say I was going to meet our new best friend in ten. What did you want to ask?"
Hestia relaxes from attention, checks her chrono, takes a deep breath, and dives in, speaking softly, confidentially.
"Thanks, Sarge. I want to be sure you know some things. Heck, you probably do already. If so, I'm sorry. But... I guess I feel it's my duty." She checks her chrono again, grimaces at her own babbling waste of time.
"OK. I know something's wrong with Noveria. But that memory isn't ever going to come back like a normal memory might. It was stored in the AI in my head, or connected to what's in my head, and when Shepard killed her, whatever part of my memory and function lived there was destroyed. No backup. Skills got retrained, but the memory... pfft. Gone. But, Sarge, Theron Iskios was an adult in Cerberus. He might not know specifics about Noveria, but he might know more about Plan Bs than I -- or my AI -- would ever have known. I get that you don't like him, but he's a resource now. Maybe use him, because I don't want to end up a pile of grey goo," she urges.
"Lastly, Cerberus," she hastens on to get her say in before her time is up, talking more to the deck than to Grace. "I can see you hate Cerberus by the way you look at him." She nods towards the observation deck with a little grimace and shrug of one shoulder. "It's OK, y'know. You've been really nice to me despite it. I mean, a couple Alliance instructors flat out said they wish we'd been left to starve. Cerberus lost right along with the Reapers. I get it. But. Cerberus wanted to improve and advance humanity. That was pounded into me as a kid. I know rogue divisions made a real mess of things. I don't know what they created me for. All I can do now is try to salvage the good that might be left behind and help clean up the mess of the rogue stuff." She finally looks Grace in the eye, shrugs. "Maybe other people feel the same way?"
"That's all I got. Sorry if I overstepped." She resumes attention and salutes Grace again, speaking normally for public consumption. "Thank you for listening, Sergeant Wright."
Once Grace and Hestia have left, Dern looks back to Theron with his unctuous Salarian smile. "Well, they've certainly thrown you to the lion's den, I'd say. A trip to Noveria - or back to Noveria, as the case may be - that's a dangerous mission under any circumstance. All sorts of things can happen in a place like that. Remnants of Cerberus security features, rogue AIs, experimental subjects - why, even a poorly aimed grenade round can be fatal in a place like that, and no one would even know what happened. I hope you're up for it."
Dern pauses to consider for a moment. "I wonder what they're serving in the canteen at the moment? I'm so hungry I could eat a leviathan. Good luck with your briefing!" He gives another too-friendly smile and turns to head out.
Theron stops and turns to Dern, nodding in agreement, "How very true. It would be tragic if anyone fell prey to an ambush," he says amicably before heading off to try to find his briefing.
"That's all I got. Sorry if I overstepped." She resumes attention and salutes Grace again, speaking normally for public consumption. "Thank you for listening, Sergeant Wright."
Grace returns the salute.
"At ease. I appreciate your input, and you're right. But that's partly what worries me." She pauses for a bit, searching for the right words, then continues.
"I don't know the specifics of what you did when you were part of Cerberus, but... you were just a little kid. You were what, nine? Ten? And from what I understand, you had some sort of... control chip in your head. You didn't... you couldn't have known better. When the Reapers hit Earth, I was twenty-six years old. Theron Iskios is only a couple years younger than I am. Like you said, he was a grown man. He knew what he'd been doing, and his supposed change of heart came a little late. I don't know much of what he's been up to since '86, but he made his bed a long time ago, and sooner or later, he's going to have to lie in it."
Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, she continues.
"Alright, like I said, we're coming up on our destination. Why don't you hit the rack for an hour or two. I've got to be down on Deck 3 in a few minutes like I promised, and we've still got our pre-mission briefing before we hit planetside. I'll be back in a bit."
Taking the elevator to the crew level, Grace heads for the observation deck, finding Theron already there. Pointedly ignoring him, she rummages around under one of the couches bolted to the deck, popping back up after a moment holding a partly-full bottle labeled in asari writing. Still without looking at the man, she moves to stand next to him, gazing out through the wide transparent aluminum panel at the mass effect field surrounding the ship as it makes its way toward the Pax system.
After a few minutes, she takes a long pull from the bottle, then holds it out to Theron, eyes still fixed on the observation window.
Theron eyes the bottle for a moment, then shrugs, and takes a pull, before handing it back, What's coming first? Questions? A lecture? Being told I'm on thin ice? More threats? Bluster? I rather get the feeling even she's not sure yet.
Dern is somewhat taken aback by Hestia's question. "From my understanding of human culture, the type of activity undertaken in W.A.P. is of a far more intimate nature than what I would expect of the Sergeant and Iskios. But then, I am not an expert in human body language. Perhaps I misread the room, so to speak."
His head cocked to one side, he considers for a moment, before shaking off the thought and changing the subject. "And you. Are you alright, Miss Harper? You seemed... upset before. And fairly distraught at the appearance of our new Cerberus asset. I am somewhat a novice when it comes to human emotion, but I understand it is sometimes helpful to have someone willing to simply listen at such times. I may not have much to add, but I am always willing to listen." He smiles awkwardly.
Hestia heaves a sigh. "For the blood, Dern. It was an allusion to... oh, never mind. Though they do say that hate and love are closely related. Not that I'd know about either."
She looks embarrassed at Dern's question and offer of help. "No, no.. nothing like that. I just had one of those flashes. You know, where your brain puts stuff together before you have time to really think? Well, Cerberus ship, Cerberus operative, I thought... instantly... that you were all Cerberus, I'd washed out, and you were going to kill me." She shrugs. "Sometimes, flashes like that save your life. Sometimes they just make you look like an idiot and get you yelled at by the Captain. So no worries. Faulty processing." After a few steps, she says softly, "I didn't expect to see him. It was... all wrong."
She steps up her pace. "I do hope they have leviathan on the menu. I'm starving. So... what do you know about the new guy? I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Dern's literal reaction to her first statement springs to mind. She adds hastily, "Information, I mean. Not anything else."
Dern walks into the canteen beside Hestia. "Not that you need me to tell you, but Cerberus undertook many experiments of genetic modifications and cybernetics on their most valuable assets. I believe our Mr. Iskios is one such - he has all the signs. Infiltration, espionage, assassination... asymmetrical warfare. STG would almost be proud."
Heading to the counter, he opines, "I got out of STG to avoid that sort of thing." His expression darkens. "I don't particularly approve of his being assigned to our unit, but I will do what must be done. It won't be the first time," he sighs.
Suddenly his expression brightens and a broad smile crosses his face. "Ooh! Chicken nuggets!" He begins loading his plate.
"Those don't wiggle, do they?" Hestia eyes the chicken nuggets suspiciously, then decides on more healthful fare.
She heaps her plate with greens and some sort of fish (she hopes) and the rest of her tray with desserts. "You think he's modified? Huh. I wonder how. But from what I heard, he was a hero for humans: helping save human colonies, rescuing human prisoners from enemies, that sort of thing. Like a Spectre, kinda, but for Cerberus. I heard he persuaded some Alliance soldiers who were disillusioned with the Council's refusal to protect human planets to come work for Cerberus, too."
She eyes her tray thoughtfully, then sets another dessert plate atop the edges of three other plates, making a second story of food. "There we go." She smiles triumphantly at her architectural achievement.
Theron eyes the bottle for a moment, then shrugs, and takes a pull, before handing it back, What's coming first? Questions? A lecture? Being told I'm on thin ice? More threats? Bluster? I rather get the feeling even she's not sure yet.
Grace waits a long while before saying anything.
"By the end of the war, most of your people had been implanted with Reaper tech. Almost all of the ones who survived were scientists and ops personnel-- from what I've heard, they mostly just had an implant or two that got fried when the Crucible went off. A few people had implanted VIs and the like in their heads and were "freed" after being basically meat puppets for a couple years. But all of the rank and file were packed full of the stuff. One time, we..."
She takes a long pause, seemingly sifting through uncomfortable memories.
"After one skirmish, we pried the helmet off a trooper who went down near us, trying to find a comm unit. Underneath, he looked more like a Reaper husk than a human being. I heard reports about Nemesis and Phantom units actually self-destructing when captured. And when we were searching for survivors after the wave from the Crucible hit Illium, we found whole squads of Cerberus assault troops that looked like they'd just dropped dead where they were standing."
Another long pause.
"After Cerberus wiped out my platoon at Aravis Arcology, I fell in with what ended up being one of the "N7 Special Ops" teams. Your dossier was passed around more than once over the QEC, but after the end of the war, we all assumed you'd been hit along with all the rest. So..."
Grace takes a deep breath, glancing at the deck for a moment before turning her eyes back toward the observation window.
"So. I have to ask, trooper. Why aren't you dead?"
She turns, fixing Theron with a cold glare.
"And what the hell are you doing aboard this ship?"
Theron pauses a moment, absorbing the questions, and the intent behind them, before, finally, taking a breath, "Given how many things one might have expected to kill me, there's a few dozen relevant answers to your first question, many of which blend together, and almost all of which will just lead to more questions. I'm alive because a Krogan Battlemaster named Verrax persuaded the Alliance that my actions during the Siege of Earth warranted a pardon -- and that I recieved medical attention for my wounds -- at least enough to keep me alive long enough for my cellular regeneration to fix the damage. His reasons for that are his own, but, from what I heard, his arguments ranged from 'literally saved hundreds by bringing them to shelters', to 'if Sheppard worked with Cereberus..'. But, based on your story, I guess the answer you're looking for is that I don't have any Reaper-based implants. Point of fact, to the best of my knowledge, I haven't got any implants, save for the biotic amp."
He shrugs, then adds in a neutral tone, "As to why you weren't told that I was on Earth, healing, in a coma for 26 months, it was likely to ensure that people who have the same look in their eyes as you do didn't come to finish what the Abomination started."
He pauses, eyeing the bottle for a moment, but resisting the urge to reach for it, then says, his tone slightly harsher, "As to question number two, I'm on the ship because I volunteered. Because it's where I thought I could do the most good, instead of just dealing with a gang here and a thug there, as I've been doing for the last few years. But more than that, as I kept unearthing little nuggets of information about the past during those years, I came to realize that I need to be there to tear apart the remains of the organization that lied to me -- that lied to so many of us -- for most of my life. In part because I want some sort of revenge, I guess, or to try to balance a scale, if you'd prefer.. but, since I'm apparently being more honest than I'd originally intended, I guess I'll also say that I'm also hoping that I can find the actual truths in their files and records instead of trying to cobble together what happened to me, and the freaking galaxy, from crumbs of information, rumour and innuendo... "
He stops, then, and sighs, the act seemingly deflating him slightly, before his eyes harden again, and he asks, "Good enough, Sergeant ? Or are you someone I need to keep out of my six to avoid a friendly fire accident, like the Salarian and the Biotic? "
Grace sighs heavily, looking down at the deck, then rubs her eyes with thumb and forefinger.
"I guess that explains why you didn't self-destruct along with the rest of your ...friends."
Another long pause.
"Based on what you've said, I want to believe you, I really do. And I'm under orders to bring you onto the team. I don't know if it was the captain or an agent of this "Shadow Broker" character who recruited you, but I trust the captain, and so far, neither of them have steered us wrong. On the other hand, I know about the assassinations. I mean, Harper was part of Cerberus, but she was just a little kid, and she had that damn chip in her head. But you..."
For the first time, she looks Theron straight in the eyes.
"You're only a couple years younger than I am. And like you said, you didn't get the implants. You weren't indoctrinated. Despite your supposed eleventh-hour change of heart, you should have known better."
Grace suddenly looks very, very tired, and a hell of a lot older than her thirty-four years.
"I can't trust you. But you can trust me when I say that no one on my team will hurt you. If you slip up, go back to your old ways, I'll shoot you myself, but I can promise you, you'll be awake, and I'll be looking you right in the eyes when I do it."
She turns stiffly to face the observation window.
"Dismissed. Mission briefing will be at 0500."
Before leaving, she turns to Theron, a strange look in her eyes.
Theron meets her gaze evenly and says, "I appreciate the candor. But, one small question before I go... Tell me, Sarge, how did you know you were on the right side?" He turns on his heel and leaves without waiting for a response.
Theron meets her gaze evenly and says, "I appreciate the candor. But, one small question before I go... Tell me, Sarge, how did you know you were on the right side?" He turns on his heel and leaves without waiting for a response.
After Theron leaves, Grace picks up the discarded akantha bottle, and spends a few minutes quietly regarding the half-inch of liquid sloshing around inside, before speaking softly to herself.
"Because we never executed unarmed civilians."
With a sudden violent motion, she pitches the liquor bottle against the observation window, where it shatters into pieces, the remaining akantha running down the transparent aluminum panel. Straightening her utility uniform, she walks out of the room, her expression a picture of practiced calm.
A nervous trill goes off on everyone's omnitools, showing a nervous looking quarian with a portly human working even more nervously in the background. "Uhh...RITS to Engineering. Please. A CLANG followed by a curse in the background captures Specialist Cel'rayvay's attention before the picture winks out.
Theron blinks at the image, Well, that's not inspiring confidence.... Maybe they'll have the ship break up before my companions get a chance to kill me... "Ackn--", he starts then stops as the image vanishes. He shakes his head, I really should have just taken up Verrax's offer for a commission..., and then starts down the corridor at a jog.
Whomsoever makes it to Engineering first sees an astonishing display- Specialist Cel'rayvay and Officer Merriweather are chasing Kody around. Literally. The AI construct dances around the room, flitting in and out of images and movies both of the engineers have on their omnitools. Most are harmless, and the AI simply mugs for the camera in some photos that could be...embarrassing for Officer Merriweather in particular, as the construct takes his place in everything from family pictures to instructional videos, doing a bad job of imitating his voice. Other photos, of a more...lurid nature the AI does not take part in, but does loudly comment on. Specialist Cel'rayvay is unusually sharp, "We have to uninstall and delete. Immediately! Someone get a hand on that thing!"
Hestia thunders into engineering a few steps behind Dern (because cheesecake) and slides to a halt, narrowly avoiding running into the Salarian. She watches a moment in astonishment.
"Oh nooooo," she comments unconvincingly, trying to keep a straight face. She also taps at her omnitool, setting it to record. Though she knows little about computers besides how to use them, a stray thought pops into her brain.
"Hey, isn't Kody supposed to be, like, embedded in the shuttle's systems or something?" She glances to see if Grace is on the way. "I think Kody accepts Grace's commands, at least aboard the shuttle. Don't you guys have a command override here?"
Hestia thunders into engineering a few steps behind Dern (because cheesecake) and slides to a halt, narrowly avoiding running into the Salarian. She watches a moment in astonishment.
"Oh nooooo," she comments unconvincingly, trying to keep a straight face. She also taps at her omnitool, setting it to record. Though she knows little about computers besides how to use them, a stray thought pops into her brain.
"Hey, isn't Kody supposed to be, like, embedded in the shuttle's systems or something?" She glances to see if Grace is on the way. "I think Kody accepts Grace's commands, at least aboard the shuttle. Don't you guys have a command override here?"
"We already tried that," Merriweather half-says/half-shouts. "Celery is right in a way- We don't have to kill him, but we do need to get onto something we can trap him on! Oh no. Not my wakeup routine!
Kody seems to have found a few vid-files of Merriweather singing positively ancient songs to himself as he adjusts his uniform in the mirror, admiring himself. It seems he is a tenor.
Theron jogs into the bay, then stops, his mind racing, What sort of attack is this? Are we being hacked? Is it--- then he stops and snickers after the Salarian speaks, Seems they know what this is... ah, a VI. Well, that's interesting -- though also dangerous if it's able to slip its leash so easily....
He stands back as the others act, then offers, "Could you not direct it to a blank omnitool or portacomp -- or even an embedded, fenced-in virtual machine in a larger computer -- then cut the networking -- at least until you can find the fault in the program?"
Yes, please. Dungeon Master Player 15/Dungeon Master 13/Monk 2(I'm out of practice!)
Theron Iskios wrote:
Theron jogs into the bay, then stops, his mind racing, What sort of attack is this? Are we being hacked? Is it--- then he stops and snickers after the Salarian speaks, Seems they know what this is... ah, a VI. Well, that's interesting -- though also dangerous if it's able to slip its leash so easily....
He stands back as the others act, then offers, "Could you not direct it to a blank omnitool or portacomp -- or even an embedded, fenced-in virtual machine in a larger computer -- then cut the networking -- at least until you can find the fault in the program?"
"Great idea, but we don't walk around with blank omnitools and Kody seems to want something that will keep him interested-
anybody have anythink that will keep a somewhat rogue AI entertained?!?"
Kody seems to be flipping through Specialist Cel'rayvay's omnitool data and is yawning as this seems to be little more than dry technical data, and some positively lovely pictures of Rannoch.
