🛠002🛠 [Encoded]

[xrater]

[Oh, hey, someone's just... gone in and altered the app Lonestar set up. Spinning in the corner when the app opens is a new symbol.

Normally, Alia couldn't manage such a thing, not with how advanced programming that the mysterious hacker uses is. But his ability to keep her from adding little patches is hindered by her previous unraveling of its coding and the limited power of these communicators. There's only so much that these pathetic little hand computers can allow on board.

However, she got around the limitations by linking her robots together into a network, allowing their processors to take a bit of the load of hosting this, and then allowing the New Hire comm units to access the network. Still one she can safely sever.

When the program opens, a short animation of a little... thing popping out from under its helmet plays and does a little dance as the first connections are made. Then it explains. In short, this is how the New Hires are going to be able to access the footage from the robots Alia's built. While she allows it. Alia, it explains, may cut off access at any time for any reason, but if it happens, it'll be for security. It also has a 'boss mode', where, if they're being watched, they can play a little game featuring the Met rather than risk blowing everything. There's no 'recording' function available for any feeds, all of that is routed into a secure place of Alia's choosing. No sense in letting that get left somewhere.

FEED 1: features the Executive Lounge. Whatever she's using for this is small, but not fast. It does, however, cling to the ceiling fairly well, usually tucked into a corner or peeking around some cosmetic jibble. It's got no microphone, but, if a specific party is focused on, lipreading software activates. A gorgeous redhead ignores suitors who keep buying her drinks, though a mocking smile crosses her face as she drains yet another glass.

Feed 2: Peering through air vents, this robot seems to be much faster and more maneuverable. It's watching a hallway with a row of doors, apparently a batch of domiciles. Onscreen, Planker enters a room and closes the door behind him.

Feed 3: Another air vent spy, but this one is poking through the ventilation slots and peering at a scene of Dickwash directly below it. He seems to be steeling himself, taking a few breaths, and then forcing a smile and flinging the door open. Gleeful cries of "Daddy" can be heard from inside before the door closes.

Feed 4: An armory. Nothing seems out of place.

Feed 5: Maintenance corridors. Workers slide past each other with practiced ease, not even noticing the robot as it crawls steadily through them.

Feed 6: Settled into the hollow of one of the chairs in a medical room, this has eyes on the entrances to both Tenten and Setsuna's rooms.

...Oh, as for the games, they get their choice when the program launches, before the feeds are revealed. There's a match three game, something like Bomberman, or a maze running program. These run on the comm device itself, so it's understandable why it's so limited. It takes an eye that can see faster than normal to spot the subliminal messages offering messages of positivity and affirmation to the player.]

Comments

[xrater]

Oh, there's a versus mode on the Met games, by the way. Just in case you wanted to know.

[Because that's the important thing here. Not describing the cameras.]

[greyerrant]

Are those Cyber-altered task servitors?

[ Yes Garviel just asked you if you built CATS. ]

[xrater]

Mm? No, those are robots. Not terribly sophisticated ones, I'm afraid, but one works with the materials one has, not the materials they want. If I had my druthers, I'd have a Robot Master guiding them all, but... Jorgmund and budgets. Sigh.

What, may I ask, are the things you refer to?

[greyerrant]

They are relatively simple machines that can negotiate some obstacles and send back pict and vox data from hostile environments. We normally send them into derelict ships in order to ascertain if we need to undertake a boarding action, or can simply let the ship float on it's way.

[xrater]

Ah.

Seems a waste not to recycle the ships, but I suppose there are reasons. If the ships are derelicts and you're not salvaging them, why would boarding actions be necessary?

[greyaria]

You call your robots cats? That's so cute!

[greyerrant]

I don't think they're robots, exactly. THey're not nearly that level of complex. Our Kastellan-classes can actually fight in combat with the guidance of a techpriest. CATS just roll around giving information until they bump into something, then try to navigate around it.

[greyaria]

Technically a robot! Not a very sophisticated one, but that form of navigation will get you where you need to go eventually!

[walkingballpit]

I like the compromise.

We should make sure everyone knows where these locations are.

[xrater]

I've got the robots mapping where they've been, but we're not allowed in any of these areas so it's better if you don't know exact details.

[The less they know, the more they can deny.]

If we spot the culprit or pick up any clues, I can upload details. Until then...

[walkingballpit]

[ But if something happens to the one person who knows... ]

Then tell one other person.

[xrater]

Contingencies are in place.

You really don't need to worry, Robbie. I've been around for over eighty years now and dealing with e-security issues has been a sixty year occupation. I've got a smidgen of a clue on how to handle these things.

[princesspower]

Whoa.

That's pretty cool. When did you find time to build all of that?

[xrater]

I don't need to eat, my 'sleep' needs aren't as long or frequent as yours, and I find working on electronics relaxing in my downtime.

The hours add up. A bit lonely, but probably for the better.

[princesspower]

You don't need to eat? Wait.

...are you a robot?

[ Adora, please. ]

[xrater]

[Wow. Racist. Then again, maybe she just doesn't know any better.]

Reploid, if you please. Calling me a robot would be like calling Catra a housecat. They're a bit further back on the evolutionary chain.

Still, you've got the gist of it.

[zerofield]

[ Tio would have an easier time catching the subliminal messages if she had the Aeon System here, but she can still manage unaided, albeit needing to focus on them more to read. ]

I was thinking I'd have to write myself a Pom! game from scratch, but this is pretty close to what I wanted. Thank you.

The sentiments are very nice, too.

[xrater]

You're certainly welcome. Once I'm not building them in secret, I might be able to do something a bit more... modern.

I was hoping they'd be appreciated!

[zerofield]

Only the Met game has a versus mode so far, correct? If you're not averse to it, I might see what I can do with the match three.

[ Look, nerdteen is at a loss when she can't own some people at Puyo Pop. She needs this. ]

video;

[bothbarrels]

[ When the video feed snaps on it's on a thin blond man, who has a small hologram by his shoulder. It appears to be an armored soldier, but the proportions are all wrong for it to be an adult. It looks like a glowing pink-and-purple child in armor.

The man speaks, gesturing at the hologram. ]

Oh, boy. Now Theta here wants to download that maze game. Is there any way for him to do that?

[xrater]

[Wouldn't be the first time she's seen those odd proportions on someone who fights.]

Does he have room in your... armor, I'm guessing is where his program is stored?

Due to the limitations of the comm devices, these are fairly small programs. Only about 45 MB for that game alone. It's probably not much of a challenge for an AI, or even a fairly smart human.

[They are, after all, just diversions to fool the bosses.]

If you're willing to sacrifice a few gigs of storage space, I can take an hour or so and make a version of Met Maze with a more appropriate difficulty level for an AI.

[bothbarrels]

His program is stored in a chip that's implanted in the base of my skull. I'm not sure there'd be room for it, though...not at the correct difficulty level.

[ Theta mimes kicking the ground. ]

Aw, man.

[piper90npcs]

[The image from Feed 2 moves.

Skittering forward, it slips into the vents leading to Planker's room, peering through it. It's rather spartan. No pictures adorn the walls. There's a desk with a computer on it, an old-fashioned corded phone, a plain chair, and a bed with no covers.

Planker himself comes out of the shower, naked. The little cartoon Met is hastily applied as a censor, looking alarmed and vaguely ill but heroically determined to shield the innocent from the view. He settles into the chair, picks up the phone, and taps in a number.]

Planker. Glotfelty told me to call. Conference call?

Yes.

I'll hold.

Glotfelty? Planker. Fust. What's the status on those two?

[A long wait.]

Grey can be redirected. She should've gotten a Violation for stepping in when she did anyway. That mealy mouthed-no, sorry. Washburn's too soft. I told you, we don't need someone like him in charge of the button.

No. No, I understand completely.

What were the results of that, by the way?

That doesn't surprise me. She talks a big game about being a ninja on the networks, but she seems pretty shit to me. And the girl?

Really? Well. No, I understand the morale value for her too, but-Really? Maybe I oughta be pushing her a little harder then. When's her next surgery gonna be over?

Hm. And in charge of the physical therapy?

Hn. Wouldn't be who I chose.

From that high up, huh?

Yeah, no, I get it. I ain't heard shit since then.

No, I ain't seen anything from the New Hires about it. They're just doing that little nightwatch thing. When's Security going to get its act together? At this rate we'd be better off just sending the freak show in and letting them sniff it out.

Yeah, well maybe if the security system wasn't made by the lowest fucking bidder then-

Right. Yes. Sorry.

No, if it were that again we'd get the alert. The Virgin Mother's stigmata isn't acting up. We're clear. Besides, with all of the teenagers disappearing the other night, we probably don't have a virgin to sacrifice without going through the staff's families. And we're not supposed to do that again.

Yeah, you too. Goodbye.

[He hangs up, but doesn't move. His eyes fix on a spot on the opposite wall and one hand rests on his thigh. The other rests on the desk.

Planker sits there, not moving, barely breathing, not even blinking. There's a flicker as the robot switches to thermographic vision, but the results are totally normal.

He's just immobile.]

Text

[fuckcable]

What did I just watch, and why is a corporate goon talking about virgin sacrifices to Mary because of her stigmata?

[xrater]

That's Planker, our charming Head of Physical Training. Apparently talking to the Rig's psychologist and Head Physician.

I couldn't say anything more, I was stretching resources thin as it was and couldn't make a microphone sensitive enough to hear everything on the other end with what I had available.