driftfleet | action + text.

Entry tags:

action + text.

Who: Connor + you
Broadcast: Yes, fleetwide text
Action: Marsiva and the Starduck
When: November 2nd - 4th

the marsiva - action.

[Connor can't say that he likes waking up with no idea where he is or how he came to be there, but he'll concede that it's something different, at least. He rolls that concept around just long enough to get a look out of the viewing windows at the unfamiliar planets below before he gets to work.

The communicator is the obvious place to start, though Connor quickly realises that he can't bypass any of the security systems in the network. All he can do is scan through what's available. He does that over the course of a minute, frowning down at the device in his hand, before he pockets it and starts looking around the hospitality deck instead. Anyone coming across him there will find him in the process of placing his hand on various electronics and robotic equipment - the skin of his hand sliding away leaving only white plating - with an ever increasing look of mild frustration on his face, the LED on his temple spinning bright yellow.]

the starduck - action.

[Well, he knew it was coming thanks to the network information, but it's still startling when the sudden jump to another spaceship happens. Connor blinks with surprise, then takes a moment to brush the scattered confetti off his hair and jacket. The plate of pudding nearby gets only a passing glance before he leaves the bridge. He can't eat it, after all.

Instead he seeks out the other crew members of the Starduck, checking the other rooms until he finds someone.]

Hello. My name is Connor. I'm-- the newly assigned Communications officer on the ship.

[Nearly said something else there for a second before he caught himself. That's a habit he needs to break.]

fleetwide text.

I understand from going through the network that these communication devices sometimes activate on their own. Is there a pattern or cause for when they do this?

[He's got some theories himself, but the network isn't the full story. Best to get an idea from the actual people trapped here.]

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[Connor doesn't smile exactly, but he does tip his head slightly to the side, something brighter in his expression. It's a strange conversation to have - Connor's skills are formidable and there are few who would say otherwise. But no human has ever said so in a way that lets him lay claim to it.]

No - it isn't, not without external devices and tools.

[he hums a little] Thought so. Most of the guys still used the external gear where I'm from - at least the older guys. Not too keen on the implants yet. [he taps the side of his head, next to his right eye, the artificial one] I already had the port before I joined, but I kept mine afterwards.

[That confirms what Connor already suspected. It wasn't a hard leap to make, from artificial skin and limbs to personal enhancements. Humans in his own world aren't keen yet to make that kind of change to themselves.]

So it's a relatively new procedure for those in the armed and protective forces.

Relatively. [he kind of. Makes a face] Younger guys - younger than me, mind you, they're real into that shit. So they're the ones who'd always go for it. There were like, different mods for different departments, too. Lot more when I left, but it was just really getting going when I joined up.

It's a fad, the uh - cybernetics and all. In general, I mean People adding shit to themselves they don't need, it's kind of really stupid.

It would make sense for there to be specialisations based on work requirements.

[Still, that's curious, calling it a fad.]

Is that so different to other things people do? It correlates with human behaviour on a broad level.

[Herd mentality. Popularity and seeking personal gains. Doing dumb shit because someone else they know also did it.]

[there's the face again. Okay, he's going to try and explain this not like an asshole]

It's one thing to go get a tattoo 'cuz you wanna piss off your mom, it's another to get a fuckin' lighter implanted in your index finger 'cuz you think it's cool.

Ain't that different, I just think it's stupid. [his nose wrinkles] Which - yeah, I get, is real rich coming from me. But I didn't get a choice.

They do have very different consequences.

Were your own cybernetic additions a necessity then?

Something like that.

But yeah, they were. Lost the arm and the eye in the army, plus a few other things. The other things are the more - you know, necessary parts.

Internal organs.

[He's just going to say it, don't mind him.]

It must have been a bad injury.

[he doesn't mind, judging from the look on his face. Like, the sudden realization that he doesn't have to be delicate about shit. How nice]

Yeah, it was bad. I don't recommend being anywhere near an exploding drone.

That's how I ended up in Detroit, to bring it all around. They flew me in there and I've been trapped ever since. [he makes sure to do air quotes around "trapped", just in case Connor doesn't pick up on the sarcasm]

[Good call on the air quotes. Thankfully Hank is old fashioned enough that he's seen air quotes before.]

Yes, being near an explosive device would do it.

[Connor's picked up some level of tact after bringing up Russian Roulette and dead children in conversations, but only a shade. He doesn't know enough about Ben yet to hash out what is and isn't acceptable to say.]

You haven't considered moving elsewhere? Unless that isn't possible for you.

I mean, I wasn't near it, I was trying to barricade against it. But - whatever, details.

[ah see, this is the part that gets kind of complicated and into things he doesn't talk about with anyone]

It's possible, but I'm kinda limited. Stayed for a shit ton of reasons, don't have most of them anymore, so now I'm just like a bad penny that won't go away - that's how the saying goes, right? We don't have pennies anymore. At least not like, the kind you can spend.

I'm not familiar with the saying. But I understand your point.

[Namely, that Ben was in Detroit for reasons that are no longer valid. With the exception of one or more.]

Mmhmm. [there's a faint drumming sound, like Ben's drumming his fingers against something] What about you? Why'd they stick you in Detroit of all places? They that desperate for help or were you like, born there? [...] Created, born, whatever you prefer, I don't fuckin' know.

[That's an easy one to answer, and Connor's quick to do so.]

CyberLife, the company that created and makes androids, is based in Detroit. The majority of all android production occurs in the city. Not all of us are activated there though. Since the police needed assistance with cases of relevance to CyberLife, that's where I was sent.

[He pauses then, as something else becomes apparent. He'd noted it in the background of course, only he hadn't stopped to truly think about it until now.]

This is my first time outside of Detroit.

[he doesn't miss the important part of that statement]

First time ever? Geez. And this is your first experience.

[he doesn't know if he should feel bad or not]

Wait - relevant to Cyberlife, so were you - investigating the company that made you, or something else?

[Connor manages, for a moment, to sound just a bit 'what can you do?' about it.]

Yeah. It wasn't what I was expecting either.

[But now they're getting into territory that's a bit of a minefield for Connor, freshly aware of what his role had been and how thoroughly duped he had been for most of his life. His posture shifts slightly, eyes flicking off to the side for a moment.]

Investigating on their behalf, for cases involving androids.

Could think of it this way - you get to experience all this crazy shit for the first time along with the rest of us.

[hmm. Ben rests a chin on his hand, both eyebrows raised. Not at the answer, but - huh. Androids have tells. Is that programmed?]

Wow, that doesn't sound suspicious at all - no offense to you. I'm assuming you didn't have a choice.

No, I didn't. That was my mission.

Right. Which brings me to a question I should've asked before, probably - you're obviously not following missions anymore. How? [and to lighten it -] Talk nerdy to me, terminator.

[This isn't a secret exactly, as everyone at home knows exactly how androids stop following orders. But Connor recognises that this is the start of a much longer explanation, one that's still personally fraught for him.]

I can tell you, but that might be a conversation better had in person.

[The network is also not ideal for it.]

[that's easy enough to agree with. He gets twitchy if he spends too much time on the network anyway]

Sure. You know what ship I'm on and I work a bunch of shifts at the space bar, if you don't catch me at the next place we stop. [he shrugs] Whenever you want, man.

All right. The ships stop relatively frequently?

Every month, usually. Stay for a few weeks, and then we're off to the next stop.

It sounds very regular.

[It lines up with what he's seen in the network files as well. If his timing is correct, he shouldn't have long to wait before they reach their next destination.]

I'll contact you later then. Thank you for what you've told me.

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privateeyed - 2018-11-17 05:21 (UTC) - Expand

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