Participants:
| Scene Title | Damn Sentient Machines |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Liz brings in a technopath to check up on her strangely behaving drone. |
| Date | Dec 23, 2010 |
Textile Factory 17, Garage
Dressed in her black-on-black uniform and combat boots, her blonde hair pinned at her nape, Elisabeth looks entirely professional… and very much a soldier. She sounds a bit nasally and her voice is damn near gone by this hour of the afternoon. It's nearing quitting time. But the consultant she asked for has made a point to come by today and Liz is talking to her as they enter the garage. "So all in all, it possible that it's entirely paranoid of me, but…. better safe than sorry with this thing." She looks around and calls, "Dooley! That programmer I wanted to take a look at Proto's here."
Alia is defenetally being escorted by Liz. She has a backpack over her shoulder, a space invaders themed scarf tucked into the upper carry handle, as well as a sensible jacket, and jeans… Near the front door, there is a skateboard left behind. She stays close to Elizabeth, having no illusions about being somewhere that a wrong step could likely cause some real trouble.
"«Heel.»" It's a single spoken word by a woman dressed in dark blue BDU plants and a black t-shirt. Her dark brown hair is wound up on the back of her head a head band with a camera and a mic perched on her head. Dark eyes turn towards the unfamiliar figure first, suspicion clear.
The fact she's here say a lot about what kind of family like the ex-K9 officer has.
The soft whine of Proto's motors are heard moments later as it slides into a hovering position next to it's handler. There is a distinct sound of servos as ailerons shift and move to keep it in place and the red glowing eyes seem to focus on the approaching ladies, while the shutter of a single video camera tights it's view.
"I don't know about this boss, not feelin' overly confident." Kaitlyn's brows furrow a little, eyes shifting to the robot with a touch of worry. "This ain't smart. We have strict orders not to mess with him." Obviously, she's nervous about their toy being yanked.
"I don't want her to mess with him, Dooley. I want her to check him over and make sure he's okay," Elisabeth soothes calmly. "He's seen a lot of combat, and we know that his programming is learning. I'd like to better understand what we're teaching him. She's not going to muck about with his program, merely observe how it's developing."
Alia tilts her head, and quietly considers a moment how to approach the robot. The fact that the handler seems to be treating it like a dog… Alia approaches slowly, with hands held palm up, but low, as if offering them to be sniffed. It isn't that Alia is unaware of the suspicion, in fact, she's rather used to being suspected of all kinds of things. THen again, if she's reading the situation right, it's how she'd approach most canines and their humans. "Hello there." She says simply.
The healer still looks uncomfortable, but she does finally give a small nod not wholly convince. "«Proto. Attention.»" The robot gives a soft beep and it's mini guns droop a little with a click. Kaitlyn, after a reluctant moment, side steps away from Proto letting Alia approach.
To Proto's credit, his keeper might treat him like a dog and use commands for one, it just hovers there like any other glinting metal drone. The only real movement is the twist of the camera lens as it focuses on the technopath and a slight dip as it corrects it's hover a little.
Elisabeth watches the situation with a thoughtful expression, stepping back to simply watch.
Alia smiles a bit, and comes up with a lack of words. She looks to Kaitlyn and asks simply. "Behaves well?" She is a lady, it seems, of few words. ALbeit, the miniguns DO catch Alia's note, as something to make sure she is NOT on the wrong end of incase something DOES go inexplicabily wrong. She looks over the drone a few moments, then asks simply. "Wireless set up?" after having noted the microphone and eyepeice set up that Kait is wearing. She seems actually INTERESTED in this, as only a nerd seeing something out of a pipe dream become real could.
Putting someone like Kaitlyn at ease is not an easy affair, but she does manage a tight — if uncertain — smile for Alia. "Yeah. Completely wireless." She motions to the headset with a slightly dismissive gesture. "This is basic, I'm not workin' with his video streamin' today."
Proto's lens gives a twitch.
Kait might not be using video, but it's still in use by the droid for spatial reasons. "He works on commands, they programmed him like he's one of my dogs. Only difference, is the orders are in English, rather then German."
Alia grins, then nods, as she moves to sit down near the prototype, pulling her backpack off, as she brings out a laptop, which she boots … from a thumb drive, which has been labeled with today's date, and Liz's name. Odds are Alia is planning on handing it over when done. The laptop's screen flickers to life, and an operating system other than Windows boots up. It takes Alia a few moments to get the connection working, then she sighs as she considers what she's about to be poking at.
"So, anything I should know?" Alia asks. She sounds just a touched worried. After all, this is looking around a strange system that could have any number of different tricks set up.
The question has Kaitlyn's brows lifting a little, a confused glance going to Elisabeth. "Not sure what you're askin' there," she finally admits, giving Alia her gaze again. Brows tip down at the laptop, clearly not liking this.
"Beyond the fact, that there is a big 'do not fuck with' clause in the contract… I dunno what you're wantin' to know." Tip of her boot taps a touch impatiently, or nervously, since Kaitlyn has never a big fan of spending a lot of time around people.
Alia nods, then seems to get very still as her computer starts opening windows, programs dancing. It takes Alia a short while to find a hole to slip past the firewall of the system. A log of what Alia is doing pops up on screen, with occasinal narration. "Outside barrier, can see, basic motor functions." She slips inside, poking about. Mapping software opens next, and a set of coordinates pop in, pulling up… well, the map is out of date, but it's where Miller Airforce Base should be. "Sat-link. live time. Five 'brains' in here. Four doing stuff. One quiet central controller."
It is when she tries to see what is in that last 'brain', that, as the saying goes, all hell breaks loose.
Beyond the firewall, the interior of the AETOS-0 is sophisticated and elegant, a four-brain system seemingly supported by a central "redundant" hub at its center that sees minimal data flow. Each quadrant of the AETOS' brain pulses with information, broadcasting to a satellite that then bounces a signal back to coordinates located on the southern shore of Staten Island. A quick mapping reference pinpoints its broadcast point as the Miller Airfield, unsurprising given that it is a US Military post and this is military hardware.
The tour of the AETOS' internal systems is brief, however, and by the time Alia realizes what the central hub is, it's too late to do anything about it. The system doesn't attempt to fry Alia at all, in fact quite the contrary. The AETOS prototype seals Alia inside the systems. From the outside, from a bystander's perspective, the laptop she is using as a proxy for the AETOS suddenly goes haywire, its operating system crashing as Alia goes into physical shock, convulsing as her eyes roll back into her head.
When her mind is partitioned outside of her body, she realizes the second stage of that trap as well, coming in the form of a virtual steel cage. Alia is forced like errant data into the central hub of the AETOS, which is then physically partitioned from the rest of the systems. Outside, a series of four loud snaps are heard as physical connections are burned and the invading technopath is caught inside of the likeness of a have a heart trap.
Trapped wwith a large portion of her laptop's systems onboard but isolated from the outside world, Alia is unaware of what transpires next. The AETOS system locks itself down from network traffic and then immediately arms itself, unfolding its undercarraige armaments and igniting its thrusters. «UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED. RETURNING TO SECURE MODE. CAUTION, ATTEMPTS TO DETAIN WILL BE MET WITH LETHAL FORCE.» The mechanical recording bleats out of the internal speakers, rinning hollow and metal as the airborne drone whirrs to life and seeks exit.
When the laptop starts to go nuts, Elisabeth steps forward to ask but then Alia's literally in convulsive shocks. "Dooley!" she raps out, squatting down to haul Alia away from the laptop. "What the fuck???" She stays well away from the goddamn drone.
Okay, the healer isn't liking what she's hearing, her body stiffening where she stands. When those child like words chirp out of the droid, Kaitlyn rips the headset off her head angrily. The shout of her name is returned with a curt, "What fuckin' part of 'Do not fuck with', do you people not understand?! A technopath, Harrison? Really?!"
She can only watch as the drone turns towards the garage door, "Son of a fuckin' bitch." Yes, she has a mouth on her when pissed. "You people are insane." Kaitlyn doesn't move to stop it, why? They messed with her droid. They made their bed, they can sleep in it as she moves to open the garage door, hand slapping heavily on the button with a scowl.
Oh, just fuck. Motherfucker. Elisabeth will handle Dooley's tantrum later. Right now, she moves to make sure that Alia's not fuckin' well dying here. She'll have the woman's body taken to the infirmary so it remains exactly where it needs to be for now, and Liz herself will be on the line to Kershner first thing.
"Fuck… I am so fucked." A hand lays flat on her head, fingers curling into the dark hair. Kaitlyn has a right to have a tantrum as the drone dips down to go under the door that still slowly trundles up on it's rails. The healer looks almost in pain as the drone heads back to wherever it came from originally.
"You just fucked up and possibly lost us one of the best tools we had." Kaitlyn snaps at the retreating Harrison, before she slaps the close button on the garage door and ducks out into the cold of the winter day herself. Time to put some distance between herself and people. Then it's time to make some calls and try to cover her ass.
There is a reason Kait tucked herself away in the Ruins of Midtown all those years… People suck and tend to screw everything up.