Participants:
| Scene Title | Just Like a Dog |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | When Kaitlyn introduces JJ to Proto, she finds not everyone finds the robot as endearing as she does. |
| Date | December 20, 2010 |
Textile Factory 17 - Courtyard
The large courtyard of the Textile Factory is hidden from view from the public thanks to the brick wall that surrounds it. It's probably a good thing that it is there, as today a very controversial member of the team is hovering there in the yard with sunlight glinting off it's metallic form, the dual red lights bright even in the late morning sun.
It is cold today. So very cold, but in the suit she's wearing Kaitlyn doesn't really notice. Standing next to the large aircraft, it's not hard to recognize the medic in her Frontline suit, due to the added camera mounted to the side of her helmet. Even if she is a valuable member with her ability — which she tries not to use if she can help it — and medic skills, she feels more at ease with directing the shiny metallic robot.
She doubts Harper or Broome ever pictured this when they put her to FRONTLINE training. Would the student make the teacher proud? One has to wonder.
"Proto attention." With a whir of servos the AETOS robot lifts a little further in the air, giving off a beep to tell her it's listening. Kaitlyn gives a short nod of approval, jaw sets as she watches a flash of 'Ready' on her hud screen.
Her words are clipped and gruffly spoken with a sort of sharpness to it. "Aquire my target." The subtle shift of the helmet, turns the camera to the target as the far end up the coutyard.
The aerial robot slowly shifts with the movement of the woman's head, the shudders within the lens of it's eyes shift and focus on it. 'Target acquired' flashes on her screen along with 'awaiting order' shortly after. It's unseen but a small smile touches the healer's lips. "Good boy, Proto."
Dressed in a track suit, JJ steps into the courtyard from one of the doors that lead into the facility. Sure there's a gym inside, but the new boy prefers to work out in the fresh air when he can. Earbuds snake into his ears and he holds a jumprope in one hand and a yoga mat in the other. He doesn't plan on any Downward Facing Dog, but the courtyard ground is cold and hard when doing crunches and obliques.
His eyes focus on the robot craft that he hasn't had a chance to meet yet and his eyes widen a little as his mouth form a round o.
"That's some fancy hardware, there, Dooley," JJ says, sounding impressed.
Her name name catches her attention, helmeted head turns with a jerk towards the voice, with it the robot turns in midair to face him, those twin red lights seem to focus on the male member of the team. As an after thought, Kaitlyn barks out a. "Stand down, Proto." It promptly sinks a little, mini guns folding back into it's sides.
The helmet is removed revealing the face of the officer within. "Hey…." She trails off eyes narrowing at him. Seems she's forgotten the new guys name. "Jacob? Joshua… No! J.J." She exclaims, a small smile touches her lips. Maybe a little apologetic or just smug that she remembered at all. She shakes a finger at him. "Knew it was a J name."
Her gaze shifts to Proto, a hand reaching up to pat the metallic siding. "This here bit of fancy machinery is Proto. Gifted to us by Homeland out of generosity." Kaitlyn seems rather proud of that robot. "Was out here testin' his targetin' skills. They were a bit out of wack after a pyro blasted him." The dark scar down one side evidence of that encounter. "So the techies got him all fixed up and wanted me to work with it, see if they got him all right as rain."
She favors J.J. With a rare smile, maybe due to the fact he's sound of body, nothing to mess with her ability. "Hope we ain't in your way none."
When the little airship turns his way, JJ's green eyes widen just a touch, and he takes a hopefully not-too-obvious step backward before it goes at ease at Kaitlyn's command. He tips his head slightly, eyes watching the thing out of the corner of his eyes before they go back to Kaitlyn's face. There's a nervousness in his stance that wasn't there a moment before, and he swallows, Adam's apple bobbing before he grins.
"I can use the facilities inside if I'm in your way, Ma'am. I just like the fresh air when exercising, even if it's colder than a witch's … um, even if it's really freakin' cold out."
"So his targetting's off? You sure he's safe to have out? He ain't gonna shoot you up all of a sudden?" He glances down at his own unprotected body, and or me goes unspoken.
"What? No." There is a short huffed laugh from the medic, "I said was off… those tech boys take good care of our Proto." Gloved hand pats it again, the sound of it hollow. It doesn't react or move, just sits there those red eyes still seeming to be focused on J.J. engines humming softly. "Don't worry none tho' he ain't gonna hurt a fly." Of course, she can say it, totally at ease around the robot.
"Just like my dogs, this one." Kaitlyn comments, admiring the robot with a small smile. "I was a K9 officer before the city exploded, was married into a family that trained them too." She nods in the machines direction. "Just as obedient this one, only difference I don't have to walk him."
JJ's eyes follow Kaitlyn's to the robot's, which are still watching him — that's not creepy at all! — and back, and he shakes his head. "Like your dogs," he repeats, his tone clearly one of disagreement and bemusement.
"It's not a dog. It's not a … a thing with a heart or a mind or a spirit. It's a robot, and it'll do what you design it to and what you tell it to, but that's not obedience or loyalty, Ma'am, that's just software."
He nods toward the machine, still a little nervous. "Can I … go closer? See what it's about?"
"Software or not…" Kaitlyn starts with a bland tone, not seeming to be phased by the disagreement. "It don't bother me much to be around it. Doesn't make my skin crawl none when it's hurt and…" There is a moment of hesitation before she add, "Added bonus… it don't die." The muscles in her jaw tighten for a moment, before she takes a step to the side away from the robot, motioning him towards it.
"Still workin' on learnin' all the commands that he is programmed with." The pride easing back into her tone. "But he's got a sweet system. Video system that I can patch into y'all's HUDs, with Thermal and heat as well as regular." She steps around the hovering craft, giving the order. "Proto weapons."
In response, there is a beep to tell her it heard her and the arms on the sides fold out slowly to display the weapons. "The minguns use real bullets, but you'll pretty much only see us using the rubber ones. These…" she ducks under the wing, avoiding the engine, to touch a finger to one of the small missiles. "These here, are pretty sweet. Only seen them at work once. Breaks apart in mid flight and lets loose a lot of taser darts. Great for riots."
He follows, keeping a respectful distance, though his brows dip when she mentions it not dying. A touch of empathy in his expression, he gives a quick nod. He might not agree with her feelings for the thing, but having a teammate that doesn't die is understandable, apparently.
When the weapons show, he takes a half step back in caution, but they don't seem to be being aimed, so he relaxes. One hand comes out to touch the item, skimming a hand along it, tipping his head in curiosity at whatever it is he gleans from that touch.
"Will it listen to anyone, or is it programmed only to read certain voices? Is there an override — you know, in case it starts freaking out and shooting at us instead of them?"
"Son of a bitch, y'all make this look easy," gripes Kaitlyn as she stands not far from the robot that hovers in a field.
"Dooley, it's easy. It does most of the work. Think of it like one of your dogs." A man stands next to her, arms crossed, expression severe. "Give it a command and it executes it. Simple. No different then when you worked K9… don't worry so much. No need to give it individual commands. It isn't completely helpless, it can think." He points down range in a silent order.
heavy sigh escapes the woman as she turns her head too look down the range at the target. "Easy for you to say," is murmured under her breath. Facing the target completely, Kaitlyn issues the order "Proto. Take my target." Once the robot shifts it's position to aim at the target, the next order is issued, "Proto. Rubber bullets and engage target." And with that the drone dips forward and the near silent engines hum loudly as it moves forward to do as commanded.
"I can only assume so," Kaitlyn comments straightening, a hand resting on the edge of the wing, running it along the smooth metal slowly. "I imagine they keep it monitored at the command center." She flashes J.J. a grin as she adds, "I don't think there is any worry of that though. Like you said… it's got programmin' and all, not that I really understand all that technical stuff."
"I'd feel better if there was an override," JJ mutters. "Especially if it can think." He gives the machine a skeptical look, stepping away from it and shoving his hands in his pockets.
He shivers just a little and peers up at the sky — it's a sunny but cold day. "I think I'm gonna head back inside and let you shoot things all up in here on your own. The treadmill in a temperate 60 degree workout room sounds better than 30-freakin'-degrees or whatever it is outside here. You two have a nice day."
"Well, it's the government." Her helmet is gripped in two hand, ready to pull it on. "I don't think they'd let the likes of us have somethin' like this without an override." Now what sort of override is up for debate, but she doesn't feel the need to point it out, since he seems a bit put off by the robot as it is.
"Have a good day there, sport," Kaitlyn chirps out pleasantly moving to pull the helmet on and settle it into place. Her voice comes out over the com, scratchy with static. "Don't go gettin' all banged up there or nothin'. I'm actually in a good mood today." As if her good moods are a rare thing.
Which they are.
"Trust me. I don't wanna get banged up either," JJ says with a grin, waving to Kaitlyn. Apparently his unease with the machine doesn't project onto her. "I try only to fall off the treadmill once a year, and I did that in April, so I think we're safe."
It's hard to tell if he's joking. It might explain his distrust of machinery carrying actual weapons if he isn't.
He picks up his rope and mat and heads back to the door and the warmth inside.