While the mechanical S.E.T. isn't capable of an emotional expression, when it comes into the cargo hold and sees the STEVE, the light in Set's oculus turns a dull red and its shoulders seem to droop just slightly as if in disappointment. "No, Master Krizen, that will not be necessary. This one can see there is a perfectly functional motor installed on this craft. It seems our information was obsolete and the Society opted for a craft that required less manual labor reliant on shanties for motivation of hard, back-breaking work."
It pokes at a (currently inactive) throttle. "This one cannot even identify a flagpole, much less the Invisi-Cloak poles. The undercover Steward officer will not have to swim to twenty-plus fathoms to push his pole along the ocean floor after all. It is a sad day all around, though this will avoid the risk of compression sickness for the organics."
Soundbyte offers a comforting pat on the shoulder, "Maybe next time ol' pal."
After a momment of familiarizing himself with the interior and finding a spot for his things, he finds himself in the driver's seat while searing for a good dataport.
Bravo is trying very, VERY hard not to roll his eyes as he boards STEVE.
Set finds a seat, buckles in, then quietly sits for a moment, looking around at the STEVE and its fellow occupants. After an awkward moment, it says, "This one is not sure what to do next. Planetary exploration and first contact subroutines were not required during this one's previous... freelancing work. But it seems we should... exit the cargo hold, yes?"
Krizen laughs and nods. "Can do, Captain." He starts pressing some buttons, and when nothing happens presses some more. After a few more moments, he sighs and looks up. Lexie, I cannot find the hold door opener. Can you open the doors for us?"
Soundbyte gives off a short wireless signal to the hangar bay's local computer. "Open sesame!"
Set senses there are some technical difficulties, and then has a flash in his circuits akin to an inspired thought. "This one knows! Despite the lack of sails, oars and poles, the engine still requires motivation! This one knew downloading those shanties would serve a purpose. Oooooooooh..."
"Now we are ready
To sail for the horn
Weigh hey, roll and go!
Our boots and our clothes,
Boys, are all in the pawn
To be rollicking Randy Dandy-O!
Heave a pawl, o heave away
Weigh hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board
And the cable's all stored
To be rollicking Randy Dandy-O!
Unless stopped with cries for mercy, it continues through the whole song.
Partway through SET's singing, Soundbyte begins to mimic by replaying his fellow SRO's lines in lower pitch.
"Soon we'll be warping her out through the locks,
Way, ay, roll an' go!
Where the pretty young gals all come down in their flocks,
Timme rollickin' randy dandy O!
Heave a pawl, oh, heave away,
Way, ay, roll an' go!
The anchor's on board an' the cable's all stored,
Timme rollickin' randy dandy O!"
Bravo tries to ignore the synthetic singers and keep an eye out.
The ramp lowers and STEVE peels out of the hold. The wheels bite onto the sand and after a minute or two Soundbyte pretty easily figures out the controls.
Krizen smiles and joins in with a slight bit on the chorus - though, out of respect to the other non-AIs, he uses the technopathy node to do so.
"Weigh hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board
He looks out the window, and starts making notes at his station about the composition of various things as the information scrolls down the sensors.
At the end, Set emits a loud, victorious trill. "Ha ha! This one knew the shanty would work! Very strange contraption, this STEVE. Most technology does not require choral accompaniment to function. Master Bravo, a hirsute human like yourself probably has a very fitting voice for these. It would be nice if you joined us next time. It may also improve your inexplicably dour mood. As Captain Lucky used to say, 'the beatings shall continue until morale improves.' Curious... he never actually beat the crew. This one is still processing that paradox."
After settling back into its chair, it asks, "Any thoughts on a best course of action? Perhaps a quick survey of this island for any interesting details that may better inform us about the native organics, then proceed to the populated island?"
"Not much of a singer, S.E.T. Only songs I really know tend to include 'I don't know but I been told,' somewhere in them," Bravo replies with a shrug.
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From his seat Soundbgte offers a shrug, not taking his optixs off the terrain in front of him. "You can dance if you want to,"
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Set observes Bravo for a moment, unsure of what to make of this answer, then remembers, "Ah. Shanties were predominantly the purview of civilian and, uh, freelance vessels. Probably not military... or law enforcement." Its oculus constricts again, glowing a suspicious orange, before it turns to a display and types in some commands.
Set will is trying to see if the STEVE has any sensors with which to scan the environment. If so, it will try to use them.
As it does so, it asks, "One thing did occur to this one. While we are more likely to find individuals to question on the inhabited island, is it worth inspecting the barren one to ensure the reasons for the relative lack of organic material is not somehow related to the Unity-entity?"
A circuit of the island doesn’t reveal a great deal, though at one point when Soundbyte drifts too close to the structure Krizen notices what appear to be inscriptions on the stones.
S.E.T., though potentially an incredibly distant cousin of STEVE’s is unable to make heads nor tails of the computer system, busy singing shanties as he is.
Set bangs a frustrated fist on the arm of his chair. ”This STEVE is incomprehensible. Singing to activate the engine and now computers and sensors that don’t interface like a respectable quantum intelligence.” An aggrieved warble follows, then it shrugs. ”It’s telling me we’re in a nebula. That’s clearly not right. Anyone else have any more luck? See anything interesting?”
Krizen says something as soon as he notices the possible inscriptions. "Wait a moment there captain... there might be something on those stones. Let's circle back around and get a closer look with STEVE's scanners..."
"Ah," Set begins. "The old Mark I Eyeball, as Lucky Jake would say. Patently inferior in nearly all respects but... when the computers aren't working..." It warbles a warning at STEVE's computers. "Soundbyte, can you back us up? We may need to exit the vehicle."
Bravo ignores the others as they fumble with the systems, instead keeping an eye out.
"Need me to take the wheel?" he offers as he looks.
It seemed that his companions were having some trouble working the STEVE's scanners. He'd offer to help, but he was something of a technophobe when it came to the intricacies of such things himself. He didn't think that ironic in the least, because honestly, are most humans well versed on the nature of their muscular-vascular systems and how their nervous system operates? He'd think not.
"Baby, back back back it up," Soundbyte intoned, bringing the vehicle around to the structure at a more sedate pace, before putting it in park once it was in view.
Bravo, despite not doing much with STEVE's instruments, is able to easily make out the inscriptions. They're angular, in patterns that might suggest writing.
"Looks like writing," Bravo comments. He tries to see if he can make out any of said writing, see if it resembles any of the sample texts he'd looked at during his Forerunner training course.
Set glances up at Bravo, the computer display, Bravo again, then whacks the display ”Useless malfunctioning pile of scrap! Why do we even have you!?” Whatever irony may lie in the outburst is lost on the SRO.
”Bravo, for the brawn, you are remarkably perceptive; interesting military training...” The oculus spirals down to a pinprick of suspicious light, then snaps open as Set excitedly asks, ”What does it say?”
"Starfinder training, S.E.T. I signed up for the Society's Forerunner program after my discharge, and they gave me a crash course in this stuff so I'd be more helpful than just another hired gun," Bravo explains.
This text is unlike anything the team has been trained for; it's an entirely new alien script. However, certain pattern look like a fish analogue, and others look almost like hands exchanging items.
"Could be an old market or food exchange," Bravo comments.
Set stares at the inscription for a moment then says, ”This one doesn’t know how to sell that or blow it up. Should we exit the vehicle and investigate more closely, or move to one of the other islands?”
"Maybe doing a quick survey of each island, if only to I.D. potential sites of investigation? Might save us some time." Bravo replies.
Set seems content with this, "Yes. This one may not sweat, but still finds it preferable to enjoy the climate-controlled environment of STEVE. If we are so resolved, let us go to the barren island, first." It is quiet for a moment, then asks, "In the event there are hostile aquatic creatures during the passage, does anyone see controls for weapons or defensive measures?"
Bravo displays his gun.
"This is my defensive measure."
Krizen pokes at a few more segments of the display from his station.
He looks up to the group. "I think there should be some kind of defenses at least, but I'm not sure what... Maybe there's a manual or something around here that I can reference while we are in transit. Hopefully before we need that information to mount said defenses."
Set nods. "It is fine. The organic named Bravo apparently has cybernetics that let him breath underwater. We can mount him on the hull if necessary." Then, "But yes, looking for an instruction manual may be prudent." It 'glowers' at the uncooperative display again.
When in aquatic transit mode, STEVE's fore propeller arms can be controlled from the standard control joysticks, allowing for crude bashing. There are also enviro-sealed gunports, letting the occupants fire from the inside to any outside environment.
Krizen also works out how to activate and use the onboard microwave and cupholders. The entertainment system seems to be stuck in Vesk, however, and try as he might Krizen can't figure out how to change it.
Soundbyte flips through several channels, each one filled with increasingly confusing audio. He settles on the vaguely religious chanting station, though he has a feeling they're singing war chants about planetary conquest.
"Going, staying?" He asks, ready for either.
Set nods. "It is fine. The organic named Bravo apparently has cybernetics that let him breath underwater. We can mount him on the hull if necessary." Then, "But yes, looking for an instruction manual may be prudent." It 'glowers' at the uncooperative display again.
"I don't have cybernetics that do that," Bravo replies dryly. "But I assume my suit will work just as well in the water as it does in space."
Soundbyte flips through several channels, each one filled with increasingly confusing audio. He settles on the vaguely religious chanting station, though he has a feeling they're singing war chants about planetary conquest.
"Going, staying?" He asks, ready for either.
Since he speaks Vesk fluently, Bravo volunteers to change the station to something more favorable to his squad's tastes.
”Oh, I don’t know what I been told but this planet’s mighty.... old,” Set suddenly belts out, then says in a more measured volume, ”No, shanties are superior but we can try this opera or.... whatever. In the meantime, Bravo has been mostly correct, so let’s true a quick circuit of this other island first. In any event, we know about these writings here and can come back if we need to study ancient fish shaking hands.., or whatever that was.”
Krizen keeps working at the manual, then suddenly pops up his head excitedly. "I got it! It works!" He points to the small microwaving unit, happily buzzing away after Krizen's efforts. "Now we can have snacks!" He blinks at the rest of the crew, suddenly remembering what they were doing there in the first place. "Um. Not that snacks are that important. We should probably explore the remaining islands as soon as we can..."
Soundbyte steers STEVE headlong into the water, really hoping that aquatic navigation will come online. For a brief moment it seems like nothing's happening as the buggy careens into the brine but sure enough, the wheels turn sideways to reveal four propellers, and the vehicle gets underway.
Bravo has just flipped to the vesk military soap opera My Brother's Doshko when the vehicle's sensors light up. Something's coming at the craft from underwater, and fast.
"Look alive, boys! We got an incoming, possibly hostile marine life-form."
He positions himself at one of the gun-ports and readies his weapon.
Set eyes the computers suspiciously, then tries it one more time. Feeling there was no time for a proper shanty, the S.E.T. instead intoned a few random 'electronic' noises, "Beedie beedie bop?" while trying to get the sensors to give a better read on what was approaching them.
S.E.T. sees the creature is organic. And big. Very, very big.
A shrimplike monstrosity erupts from the water with a gurgling shriek, segmented legs twitching wildly, throwing briny water every which way.
It eyes the party curiously, hungrily, unsure of what to make of this metallic challenger to its territory.
Krizen looks at the shrimp. Then at the STEVE. Then at the shrimp again. "I want to suggest that whatever we do, we don't make it mad. Right, good? Don't make the shrimp mad and lets back away slowly... "