15-0-10 didn't see anything better to do at present than to keep bashing with its shield, considering an explosion of flames would be... unhelpful for its allies at present.
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"If space could be cleared, we could consider using area effects," 15-0-10 comments in an oddly calm, slightly feminine voice while continuing its attempts to bash things.
15-0-10 isn't about to complain about one foe foolishly choosing to move and spread out its attacks rather than focus. This does mean it has to choose a new target for its own attacks, however, going for one of the foes in the doorway
Well, I can't roll worth anything this battle I guess. XD
15-0-10 lashes out wildly with its shield in a vain attempt to bash the creature before it strikes. Its casing holds against the strike... for now. It repeats its attempt to attack the creature now on the wall.
15-0-10 stands in the doorway with shield deployed. It lines up a shot with its pistol with its other manipulators.
"That sounds quite logical," 15-0-10 says in its most monotone voice as it puts its tools away and gets back on its feet. Then it swaps to a 'bold action hero' voice as it reactivates its shield. "I'm ready to go, cover me as I open the door!" It trots forward and reaches with an unoccupied manipulator tentacle to open the door to the bridge.
15-0-10 immediately lays down on the floor, reaches into its pack with a couple manipulator-tentacles, and pulls out some tools. It then begins doing some field-expedient repairs on itself.
"Damage sustained, requesting time to effect repairs," 15-0-10 says in its most robotic tones.
15-0-10 is pleased it finally managed to block its opponent--not that its robotic body shows any sign of this. But rather than say anything it continues its attempt to also use its shield as a blunt weapon.
Hope everyone's holiday time is going well!
15-0-10 tries yet again to smash the creature with its solar shield, jumping to one side in spite of the slight hesitation in its foreleg and whipping said shield about on its manipulator tentacle.
"Warning! Structural damage!" 15-0-10 blares as the creature again gets around its shield. A few sparks fly out of the gash left in its shoulder casing from the attack as it tries yet again to smash the creature.
Ooof, sad to hear that. :( Take your time.
15-0-10 twists as the creature strikes it, getting only a scratch on its casing from the attack. It strikes back with its shield as it starts cautiously working its way around its target.
With its companions in position, 15-0-10 darts forward to bash the creature with its shield to start the hostilities.
15-0-10 snaps its shield around between itself and the sleeping creature. "There is another sleeping creature here," it quietly states in its robotic monotone.
15-0-10 cautiously advances towards the likely corpse. "Cover me," it asks of its companions as it does.
"Let us go forth!" 15-0-10 proclaims in what is definitely a copy of the voice of a famous vidgame hero as it leads the way around the reactor and deeper into the ship.
"Fortunately, I have no need to breathe," 15-0-10 says in its most robotic voice. Switching to a more natural, inflected tone, it continues, "It seems we've cleared everything in this area, should we continue deeper into the ship now?"
15-0-10 carefully looks around the area. Seeing no further threats, it slightly relaxes its stance and goes to assist with re-starting the power.
15-0-10 whips its shield into position to block the creature's attack, then snaps it forward to bash its foe in the face.
15-0-10's shield flicks out at the end of its 'tentacle' to bludgeon the now obviously predatory creature.
It chases close behind its enemy and attacks again.
15-0-10 orients its shield toward the creature near it and... yips. It holds oddly still, all three of its cameras fixed on the creature.
15-0-10 stops near one of the odd crystals and looks it over, though it avoids touching it for the moment.
15-0-10 pauses when it see the dormant creatures. It subtly repositions itself to be more between the rest of is group and said creatures, it's shield held at the ready.
Pretty sure the rules say you can't be in a stellar mode when you're not in combat. That said, given we're all solarians I wouldn't complain about altering that :D
15-0-10 will make certain the recording drone is active before the airlock opens. "The vacuum will not be a problem for me, and I trust the rest of you have charged your armor's life support?" The SRO's voice this time is a confident contralto.
15-0-10 withdraws itself from the ship's systems with just a touch of regret. While becoming ensouled has made it more attached to its hardware than a fully digital existence, it still felt... expanded when it had a direct data link to some more processors and memory, even such a basic system as the shuttle. Once it's fully detatched from the shuttle's processors, 15-0-10 physically detaches from the shuttle, its datajack withdrawing into the port in its forehead. It hops down from the pilot seat and trots towards the airlock. As it does, it taps two manipulator-tentacles to its solarian mote then spreads them out, a shimmering hemisphere of light forming between them as it does. It wraps another tentacle around its pistol, lifting it behind the shield, its camera-tipped tentacle laying alongside the gun as a sight. "While there were no signs of enemies, it seems best to be prepared," it says in a voice that sounds very close to a recent action vid hero's. "If the rest of you are ready, let's get this party started."
"Open airlock detected. No life signs detected," 15-0-10 reports robotically. In a warmer, more inflected voice it adds, "It looks part of the ship is still pressurized, and part isn't. That open airlock would be an easy place to dock. Any objections to it?"
"Switching primary processing to sensor input," 15-0-10 reports robotically, still over the shuttle's speakers.
Satisfied with its system sweep, though suspecting that the station's technincians had wiped out any signs there might have been of the cause of the problems, 15-0-10, jumps back into the pilot seat and jacks into the Hippocampus. Its body goes perfectly still as its consciousness concentrates on piloting. As they near the Acreon, its voice--the inflected but robotic one it often uses--sounds from the shuttle's speakers. "We are the authorized boarders. If there is nothing you wish to see from the outside, I will begin docking procedures. I assume we wish to go to a personnel hatch, not a cargo hatch?"
As soon as it's allowed to, 15-0-10 sets about checking the ship's systems for signs of sabotage.
15-0-10 trots out with the others to meet security. It opens its mouth and speaks in its calm, inflected-but-robotic voice after Sparks has spoken. "I concur that sabotage seems the likeliest explanation. I was just about to begin an inspection myself, but I understand the security reasoning for having station security inspect it instead."
15-0-10 tries to call the station docking authority on its built-in comm unit. While it does this it disconnects from the ship. It speaks in what sounds very like the voice of a detective from a recent popular movie. [b]"There's mischief afoot! This has the scent of sabotage. We should get out and see what evidence the saboteur left behind."{/b] It starts examining the ship for signs of tampering while waiting for a response to its call.
15-0-10 jumps up into the pilot seat, lifts its tails over its head, and settles its manipulator tendrils on the controls. At the same time it pops its datajack out if it spots a port for it in the console. When the systems start glitching, it tightens its grip on the controls, trying to keep things steady. "It seems probable that someone is attempting to sabotage our mission," it states robotically as it does so.
15-0-10 trots into the docking bay precisely five minutes before departure time. It sits back on its haunches and considers the AR feed pinging on its consciousness. It appreciates the quiet efficiency of the feed, a relief after the corporate propaganda yesterday. It waits for the others to arrive, perfectly still.
15-0-10 trots back onto Absalom Station, then turns slightly to look back at its new colleagues. It opens its mouth and asks in a very neutral voice, "Shall we meet a few minutes before our departure time in the departure bay? I have nothing further I need to prepare between now and then, but I can occupy myself."
The small robotic creature listens intently. What the Collective wants seems rather straightforward, so it sees no need to ask questions.
15-0-10, perched in a seat, its head tilted to look out a window, opens its mouth and speaks in an oddly musical, feminine voice. "I also like the Armada. It feels somewhat like me, in some ways."
15-0-10 creaks as it gives a small nod. "Very well then, it seems there's nothing further to cover at present? We should be going," it says, still in its most robotic monotone.
15-0-10 watches and listens, its robotic visage unreadable given it's incapable of expressions. The truth is, it's pretty bored by the whole thing. It looked up Astral Extractions on the Infosphere before coming so this is mostly just a rehash of what it already knows. Finally it comes to an end and the SRO opens its mouth. "What sorts of findings would be most useful for bringing an end to the current impasse?" it asks in its most robotic tone.
<A recording would likely go far to dispel any fears of partiality. I will meet up with you shortly.> 15-0-10 trots up to meet you not far from Bluerise Tower. It's kited out in its full equipment now--a subtle layer of armor over its body that somewhat disguises the mismatched appearance of its components, and a small pack on its back, on the sides of which are strapped a pistol and a laser rifle. Looking up at the others, it asks in an oddly accented male voice, "D'you think weapons are allowed, or should we leave'em behind?" Inside the lobby it searches through the AR interface for a way to notify someone they've arrived or get directions to where they were expected, its integrated communications making it possible to do so without any outward sign of activity.
<I have not altered my opinion from my suggestion of splitting up to visit both simultaneously.>
<It is not our eyes, but the eyes watching us that are of concern. While I will admit to frequently misunderstanding biological society, which one we approach first will be noted by the many watching this matter, will it not?>
15-0-10 trots off on its own for a while, specifically going back to its small rented room to pick up the rest of its equipment. It had made purchases of its own not long ago, so it doesn't have any need to do shopping at the moment. But it hadn't brought its full complement of equipment to the embassy, and it would be good to check over all of it before this next job. So it gets its weapons and armor out, manipulator tentacles deftly field-stripping, cleaning, and checking every component before reassembling them. A notification chimes in its consciousness, then another. It quickly 'reads' the messages, then its new companions' responses. It sends its own response. <To avoid seeming partial, perhaps half of us should go to one and then half to the other at the same time, so none can say we favor one party over the other?>
"I am also amenable to this contract," 15-0-10 replies in its robotic monotone. "In addition to your shipment, is there anything we should pay particular attention to in our effort to provide clarity and aid in the resolution of the dispute?" Turning its head to its new companions, it switches to a 'crotchety old man' voice. "No tacos for me, they gum up my servos!"
In a voice that has enough inflection to sound personable while still being obviously synthetic, the robot answers, "I am designated 15-0-10. If you prefer, I have a variety of options I have been considering a variety of 'nicknames' for more familiar usage I could share with you." Its voice swaps to one that sounds vaguely like an excited female lashunta. "I actually just joined the Starfinders! There was a bit of excitement during my initiation running across some illegal activity that the perpetrators tried to hide violently, but it turned out all right in the end."
15-0-10 hops up onto a seat and sits on its haunches, its head just barely reaching over the desk. It tilts its head to one side with a slight creak as it listens to the offer. It looks back and forth at the other solarians, then back at Ambassador Nor. "I would be amenable to to this," it says in its most robotic voice, "Though I would also be curious as to the availability of remuneration."
The small robot stops its pacing and says, "ERROR: communication misunderstood." It switches voices to a somewhat feminine, slightly acerbic tone. "Unless you're thinking of a conspiracy happening in broad daylight, I don't think that's the word you're looking for now. Solarians aren't usually hired for subtle." Its voice softens. "I just think this will be an interesting job offer or something. Maybe we can talk as we walk?" 15-0-10 starts trotting towards the entrance. It says in its more robotic tone, "I do not possess or require a gender," in partial answer to Dirk's second question. When challenged at the entrance, it pops open a small compartment in its casing and reaches in with one manipulator tendril to withdraw its invitation and display it.
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