Rinzler / Tron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notglitching) wrote2015-12-28 04:53 pm
notglitching) wrote2015-12-28 04:53 pm
IC Contact: thisavrou
ACE Messages:
There's no greeting voice when your call goes to message—only a short period of static. Or is it whirring? Either way, it might not be the device causing the sound.
[[Open for ACE calls, IC mail, or other spammy things!]]
There's no greeting voice when your call goes to message—only a short period of static. Or is it whirring? Either way, it might not be the device causing the sound.
[[Open for ACE calls, IC mail, or other spammy things!]]
action
He wants a look at those notes.
As Adrien's not looking his way, Rinzler doesn't see much point in replying to the greeting. Still, when the user does look up, the enforcer's mask will slant: a pointed, silent inquiry.
Purpose?]
action 1/2
For a long minute, he just sits there and looks at the reflective mask, seeing only himself in it's sheen. His expression is neutral, to anyone who doesn't know him and even to people who do know him. But to someone who has ways scan beyond just ocular input, the doctor is stressed. Not afraid exactly but under strain; a human struggling with a decision.
After a moment, he straightens up and slides off the stool, motioning for the program to follow himself. ]
This way.
[ It's not far. Towards the back of the clinic, in a dark corner where Rinzler may need to augment his visuals to pick up every nuance. Sitting on a crate of apples is a cobbled together computer. The hardware is ... ancient to be honest, obviously put together by bits and pieces that don't speak to it's longevity. What's odd about it is that it's being run off a vehicle battery.
In fact, on close look it's easy to see that it's been completely isolated from ... everything. No wi-fi, no electrical current, no connection of any sort; completely locked down.
On the ancient amber on dark green screen something flashes. ]
] S O S ̧̪̯̯͕̘̗̝͎̭͍̹̫̙̤̰̳̥̪̦͚̦͜ ̷̛̛͕̞͎̩̠̗͔̫̙̞̞̠̐͌͛̑̑̔͌̄̏̽͒̇͗͗͛̕͝ N E ȟ ̢̢̢̞̠͙̳̤̟͎͖̠̤̰̮̅̍̋̊̑̌̑̅͐͐̾͌̅̕̚̚͘̚͝ e ₫ à ̢̞̺̬̫̩̥̝͔̏͋͒̅͌̋̾͋͊̅͋͋͛̈̚͝ ̨͕̗̫̳͖͉ ̣̣̬̬ ̴̢̢̢̛̛̯̠̠̝̮͕͕͍̅̿̓̇̒̾͒̽͊̆̇̿͋̅̑̔̏̅͌̕̚̕ S in S ̧̫͓̳͖̦̰̙͍͎̟̥̗͊̈̆̅̿̄̓͋͆̍̋̔̄̏̋̚͝͠ ̨̭̹̭̫ ̷̝͖͚̩̭̝̼̪̖̫̫̦͒̓͆͛̿̇͊͋͑̐͗̉͌͘̕̚͝ b i l ̨̢̖̗͚̪̥̟̫̤̦̻̙̫̬͓̯̊̌̋̈͆̇̏̽͐͒͑̈͘̚̕͜͝ c h i s ̓̒̈̑͗̈̄̈̕͝ ̧̡͚̹̖̯̺̣͍͚̗͎͕̪͖̼̆̐̽̈̍͗̄̕̚͝͠ ̥̪̝̭ ̸̧̧̨̥͍͇̞̳̤͈̖̘̻̪̩̰̑͌̈̑̈̉͑̍̈̉̿̓̾̕͝͝͝ ₫ Â K H ̭̹̦̯̩͍̗͚͖̙̻̦̼̺̣̩̄͗͌̅̏̒̋̏͑͆̓̈͛͋̊͆̾͘͠͝͝ Â M ̢̨̨̨̭̼̜̻̦̟͍͓̰̗͈͓̖̺̤̠̹̺̺̐͑̄̆̓̌͜͜ ̶̦̤̦̝̻̜̫͍̰̳̈̇̏̈̽̈͑͌̑̾̍̿͛̌̓̄̏̕͘̚͝͠ c i e ̧̠̙̩͚̹̭̞̮̥͉̻̻͎̻̜̮͚̙̹͇̣̫͇̾͒̿͊̈͋̅̇̾̌ ̶̢̢̢̛̳̗̞̩̺̹̩͖̤̯͎͔̓̾̆͐͛̈̽͑̊͒͌̏͛̊̈̕͝͝ S ̡̫͎̹̰̑̈̉̈̌̌̊̋͜ in S ̢̧̧̢̦̤̜̹͓̗̞̗̜̦̺̺̞͖̞͉͖̮͋̍̉̊̏͛̈̌̿̒͜͝ ̷̧̢̢̦͎͚͈̤̝̗͎̜̘͑̆͑̄͑̑̓͗͆̾͐̾̽̈̑̏͘̚̚ ̨͙̙̗͉̖͚͎̭n̷̼͉̘̥̑̑͛͛̄̅̓̈̉̈̏̽̔̄͆̑͝͝ ̧͓̻̙͈̝͚̥̘̦͔̪͔̻͓̯̖̰e̷̿̑͗͛̌̈̉͗̈̾̋̔̌̐̕͠ ̡̢̩̼͉̪̝͓̻̫̤̥͕̥̥̜͈̗̟̹͔̩͉̜͍̏̉̅̍̚h̷̑̌̈̑̽͒̓ ̢̼͚͙̯͈̘̰̺̠̖͔̩͉̰̫͚̫̭̹͔̼̆̑͋̍͆̆͊͐͌̆̕͜͜͠ e̷̡̨̢̡̛̘̙͇̞̙͎̮͚͈̠̞͋͋̾̋͊̑̌̇̑̍͊͊͑̕̕͝ ̟͍̘̗̳d̶͉̻͔̤̔̏̅̓̈̅̾̌͛̔̏͒͑͗̏̚͘̕͜͠͠ ̨̧͉̪̙̘͚̘̥͉̜̺̘̭̣̝̦̭̻á̸̔͌͒͛̏̊̑̒̌͝͝ ̨̻̖̰͈͚̯͇͇͇̻̩͔̬͇̼̗͙̮͓̝̽̉͊͆͊͜ ̴̨̧͈̦̪͉̯̼͕̻͈͓̪̠̮͋͆̈̈̐̓̓̾̾̒̒̽̒̽̈̕͘͝͠͝ ̢̳̼̭̻̼s̸̛̹̩̻̻͕̰̽̅̆̊̍̿͗̉̈̾̊̆͐̿͑̓͒͗̚̕͝ ̧̧͕̭̼̞̹̬͇̦̝̳̩͜o̴͒̅̄̊̽̈̒̈̈̿͗̕͝͝ ̧̡͓̼̺̟̤͇̜̭͇͍͎̣̭͙̦̞͖͈̙̿̈͘͜s̸̛̈̊̇̆̋̇̄͌͋̑ ̢̻͚̦͉̟͇͈̞̰̜̯͚̣̮̒̽̍̆̇̾͗͜ ̟͇̳̖̣ ̸̛̙͍͍̣͕͖̦̫͍̟̤͍͔̿̒͒̅̆͌̋̈̉̐͒͊̽͊̚͝ ͉̮͍̘͕͉̺̼b̶̡̛̥͉̮̄̄̿̔͆͛̉̋͌̈̽͆̌͒̚̕͜͠ ̨̻͔̼̦̰̭͕̦͉̥̘̭ỉ̷̛̋̈̓̐͗̅͌͋̽̏̋̊̿̍̋͝ ̧̧̡̢̧̜̥͎̟̣̫̫̖͈̟̥͙͎͔͓̩l̷̄̿̑̓̉̐͑̑̈̌̈͆͘ ̧̻̪̼͇̣͕̻̭̫̜̟̫͚̹̟̖̬̳̮̺̟͔̋͛̆̆̌͌̋͒͝c̶͛̑̾ ̧̨̥͓̤̭̫̯̜͉̭̣̟̝̣͔̪̍̈̌͗͐͒̑̔̑̾͋͑̓̅̍͊̚͠ ̢̡̭̞̭̺̪ḫ̸̡͓͓̺͇͇̖̋̄͒̒̏͆̿͛̇͐̒͐͌̊̇̈̓̄̕̚̕ ̡͕͖̹͔̥̮̳͔̦̝͜ĭ̴̛̾̈̾̒̾͒͆̆͊̇͗̆͘̚͠ ̡̻̣̤̜̮̫͈̼̪͔͍͇̫̝̘͙̝̬̹̿͜s̵̍̐͛͒͊̔̓̈͊̒̑͠͠ ̡̨̢̗̙͇̫̻̯̟̰̜̝̦͖̳͔̹̙̩̘͉̦̪̋͌͗̋̓͑͜͜͝ ̵̨̜̝͕̮͇̦̪͚̘̤̗̠̙̺̙̽̿̊̉̒̅̑͌̍̽̉͗̐̌̾̇̍͘͝͝͝ ̻̘̦̠͙̞͕͖͉d̴̨̛̛̖̳͕̘͓̆̑̒̔̓̄̓͑̔̿͗̇̅̆̇̽̚͝ ̨̢̢̪̠̘̞̖͙̯͉͇͇̥̯͜a̸̅̌͛̑̉̈͌̽̇̌͗̇̊̚͝͝͝͝ ̢̧̡̢̺̩͕̬͉̰͕͉̳̰͓̣͔̟̦̯̳̟̄̑͜k̸̔͊̏̏͛͗͋ ̨̡̧͈͎̥͖̦̻͚̣̟͍̟̫̫͖̭̬͕͔͖͎̏͛̊̍͊̓̍̉͘͜͠ h̶̢̛̠̜̹͙͙̘̟̗̜͉̠̙̉͌̾̽̄̍̈͛͊̔̄͐̊̏̌̈̇̐̚͝ ̥̻̺̝̭̝͚̮͎a i ̢̩̺͚͐̆̊̽̅͋̇̓͝ ̢̨̢̺͚̰͉̮͚̘͕̫̘͜m̸̛̛̛͌̄̇͒͋̓̋̆̈͘͘̚͝͝ ̡̡̧͖̻̻͙̜̳̩̘̟̼̜̪̫͚̖̦̬͓̹͖̼̮͋͌̒͝ ̵̛̛̭͙̪̟̖̭̖̼͚͙̠͔̻͕͛̽̇͗̍̈̍̾͒̈͑͌͒̌̕̚͝ ͚͍̣̣̝͇̠͜c̵̘͓͛̔̄̓͛̇͆̿̆͐̆̈̓̈̑͘͘̚͠͝͝ i e ̡̧̛̬̘̯̰̤̗͓̯̹͍̥̬̯̪͐̓̓̐̐͋̍͛̔̈̚͘͘̚̕ ͖͎̗̞͙̞̝ ̶̡̡̨̪̜̜̫͙̬̤͖̻̮̣̇̍̒͐͌̈͆̿̊͋̾̆̏̔̅̋̕̚͜ S O S ̧̨̧̬̜̖̗͖̩̗͎̥̝̟͈̹̙͈̮͈̩̇̆͛̅̏̋̇͊͗̆̓̅͗̅͝ ̰ ̷̡̜̟͕̯̯̥̗̮̬͚͔̘̼̼̔͋̾̿̋͑̐͑̔̓̑̒̽̓̿̈̒̌͘͜͝͠͠ n e h ̏͐̿͘ E ̡̡̧̛̻̳̥͕̪̮̭͙͉̟͖͌͋͗̈̄̍͛͆̐̅̓̕̚̕͝͝͝͝ ₫ Â ̢̢̫̭̖͍͉̩͚̻͖͔̖̙̖̣̞̫̹̭̻͇͎͆̆͒͌̊̏̉ ̴̜͚͙͉͍̣͎͖̝̣̹̥̮͉̓͗͐͐͋͋̈̿͊̇̿͒͌͋͌̏͛̅̕̕̕͝ S O S ̨̡̢̥̼͖̣͔̖̬͚̘̻̠͈̞͕̞̪͓̤͖̮̹̯̊̅̒͗̾͒͛̾̔̄͗̕̕̕͜ ̵̢̥̗̪̜̣̝͇͙̳̍̑͑̋͑͌͑̓̑̉̅̍̓͛͐̇̓̚͜͝͝͝ b i l c ̢̧̛̛̛͍͔̤͈̦͕̬̦͔̠̣͔̈͒̑̈̔̌̄̈̏̐̈̏̆̿̇̕͜͠ h ̨̠̞͎̾̾͗̽͛̒͒͒̊͆͘ i S ̨̧̛͓̦͍̠̳̬͙͉̙̺͙̠̮̫͚̮͉̳̮͒͛̊͒͛̏̋̈̈̿̊͘̚͝ ̖ ̵̗̥̝̼̩̺̼̺̻͙̝̓̇̄͒̓̑͒͆̋̈̔̐̓̿̐̈͆̅̇̌̈̚̚͠ ̯̫̝̖̭͚͙̤̮͜͜d̷̫͔͕̣̈̾͐̍͌̆͑̾̇͌̇͑̇̅̌̚͠͝͝ ̢̺̺͙͚̝̩̳̼̩̰̣̦̬͓̻͍a̵̛̐͊͛͋̾̆̍̐̾͘͝͝͝͝͠ ̢̢̢͎̺̫͚̦̣̜̰̗̘͉̦̩̦̭̳̭̥̞̣͎̯̥̑͘k̴̛͐̉̈̈̋̉ ̢̳̰͈̝͉͍̭̹͎̤͙̯͈͙͖̻͖̫̳͓͍͊̇̾̔̅̅͊͋͑̈͝ ͎͉h̶͓̮̰͙̞͓̣̩̼̹̺͗̐̇͆͊͌̄̄̉͛̿̈͘͘̕͝͠ ͕̟̼̤̝̥̩̯͉̪̭͙ä̶̛͚͊̒̾̄̈̉̈̔̇͋̆̈̏͋͝͝ ̡̩͕̦̦̜̗̩̬͎̹̣͙̞̹̹̣̜̦̳̪͜m̶͋͒͆͐͑̋̈̚͠͠͝͝ ̧̮̪̙̺͕̘͈̞̻͎̗̫̠̤̯͖͙͇̩̮̳͕̙͉̮̈̅̓͗̊̉ ̴̧̡̛̙̦͙͖͕̼̦̗̩͔͐͌̾͋̇̈̓̐͑͛̔̓̾͒̊͑͛̇͘̚̕͠ ͉̪̬̬̝̫͔͈̻̫̬c̸̺̳̦͐̓̐̾̄̓̆͗̊͊̇̄̈̿̒͊̔͒̔̕͠ ͈̣̟͔̥̬̣̰͔̰̯̖͚̝͙̳͓͙̦i̴͛̿͗̑͒̽̉̑̆̒̿̕͝͝ ̖̻̻̝̞̝̳͙̰̙͉̝͖͕̜̬̩̆̔̊̋͗͜͝ ̞͉̝̗̬ė̵̛̊̄̾̋̇͝ ̢̢̡̨͍͙͙̯͍͍̜̭̙̗̻̺̳̻͍͕͍̞̄̆̉̐̍̐̈̊̋͌͋͊͘͜͝ ̪
action 2/2
Beneath it is a blast of code. What do you make of it.
action
He follows. The system, Rinzler can feel: energy and life, but no connection, and he doesn't need the user's cautious posture to understand the oddity—or the implications it comes with. Threat or secret, the precautions taken well exceed the local norms. Adrien knows what he's looking at.
A test, then? Or just an effort to [confirm]?
He's curious enough to play along. SOS, Neheda—but the block below makes up another program: complex and intricate, certainly more up to date than the hardware they're installed on. There's a little clutter. No obvious faults. Still, the enforcer's mask stays fixed. There's something to the iterations that sets a prickle down his back, a seething, squirming flag. False value. Mismatch. Wrong, wrong, LIE—
Rinzler freezes—scans—and goes tense in an entirely different way, frame sloping to a combat crouch by default as his hand twitches back. Noise scrapes out in a harsh growl, and it takes no small amount of effort not to undock his disk and wipe it now. In the end, the reach comes forward, a jerky gesture to activate his TAB.]
Virus.
[Text has no way at all of conveying the sheer loathing attached to the word. Rinzler's glare only manages a fraction of it. Why the glitch is Adrien keeping that?]
action
Or maybe it is hard but Adrien's just used to the defensive postures of
adorable kittensthose who cannot speak.Either way, he doesn't move but his voice is level and calm when he speaks. ]
Don't harm it, please. I need it for ... something you will hopefully never have to experience. [ He didn't want to go into those specifics. Not when Rinzler need never be exposed to that particular cluster fuck. ]
What I want to know is if you or someone you know, could take a copy of this and complete it, into a working code?
[ And before Rinzler can go through the ceiling on the back of W.T.F, Adrien lifts one hand. ]
We need information about what we're not being told about this world. About what has happened to people like Shepard and the child, and others I suspect. Options considered range from getting myself arrested and seeing if I could withstand whatever they might do to me, survive the risk of getting killed - to ... other [ he gestured at the isolated machine ] routes of attempting to data mine.
action
The explanation helps a little. Not enough. Shepard is an ally, and he'd be willing to take action against those who harmed her. But...]
Admins: threat.
Virus: worse.
[The program's mask jerks to the side.]
action
Not here though, not now.
Instead, he waited Rinzler out. Read what came across the TAB as well as the body language and he took his time formulating his response. ]
I respect that this is not a route you're comfortable with, Rinzler. [ He said, the words spoken in a matter of fact tone to keep them from sounding condescending or patronizing, as he didn't mean them to be either. He did respect the feedback to his decisions; even if he was going to press ahead. ]
But look at our options and our time line. [ Here the doctor straightened up and balanced himself with legs slightly spread. He's ... actually given this some thought, promise. ]
We know we're being kept in the dark. We know that there is a threat, a psychic threat that could be unleashed and would risk ... re-writing us. [ The way he's been told Shepard's memories have been ... altered. ]
We are trapped here, for the time being. If there was a safe route of escape, I'd be supporting that and Fates' balls Rinzler that might have to be an option we pursue. Another Moira or a ship like it. But we don't have it now and none of us can produce it on a whim.
We need information. We could send people in, like I've already considered. People who would be risking their minds and their lives and we can't back them up. [ Again, hello, Shepard. ] We could attempt a soft infiltration. Gain their trust and hopefully the access we need, but that could take months, years and I don't know that we have that kind of time; do you?
[ The question was genuine. Everything in the doctor's voice was calm, deliberate and even soft spoken. Nothing was presented in a way that left Rinzler without room to argue if the program saw an angle that the doctor had missed. ]
This code, if we can complete it or even use it as a basis to write something similar, could be uploaded to the Savrii systems and could provide us clarity to what we're in danger from and give us options of how to protect ourselves.
Before it's too late.
[ He paused and then in a tone that ... sounded ... like a man who was resolute but also in danger of being dead inside, Adrien continued. ]
It's that or we find a way to kill every Savrii on this planet and take the Ingress into our own control.
action
Still, none of the mismatches catch quite so strongly as that "people". Fingers twitch just slightly at the program's side. His spine curves, hunched frame drawing further in.
Adrien is people. Shepard is people. Even the organic virus, by his previous reference.
Not the coded one. Not the systems it attacks. Not him.]
Rather kill "people".
[It's spiteful. Bitter. That doesn't mean it's not true. At least the Savrii did something to warrant it.]
action
[ Adrien glanced at the machine and it's code. ]
All I'd have to do is put that on a device capable of transmission and there is a high probability that it would result in both these planets and the Ingress getting obliterated.
[ That thought had also crossed his mind.
However. ]
However, its been impressed upon me over the years that the expedient solution is not always the best.
And I don't believe the entire Savrii population is complicit in the acts performed by their leaders. I'm not going to destroy an entire system just because pieces of it are corrupted.
It would be easier, but grossly unfair and ... I don't believe we're to that point. Yet.
action
SOS. Neheda. "The ship I served on, destroyed two and a half." Rinzler's mask twitches a fraction, glance sliding to the code, then returning to Adrien. The numbers even match up, don't they? It would be a solution.
He doesn't object.
The user does, though, proving his own resolution empty. He wouldn't harm people for the crimes of their leaders. That would be unfair.]
Won't destroy your systems.
User systems.
[The helmet tips up, stare flat and choked with loathing. Users are always willing to break everyone else.]
action
One of the options is to put myself in the hands of these people. Go through the same abuses that Shepard faced, hopefully finding a way to maintain a hold on my own mind, so the breakage doesn't take and also hoping that, if they realize I'm not conforming, they don't just kill me.
[ He nods towards the computer. ]
If this is not a viable approach, then that's one of my fall back positions.
[ He straightened back up, expression neutral as ever. ]
We need information, Rinzler or we're going to be forever reactive to this situation, under the control of the Savrii and vulnerable to having ourselves assimilated until we no longer know who or what we were.
I am not going to let that happen.
My preferred approach would be to use this data mining code to get into the Savrii systems and pull down what information we can get hold of, with which to start coming up with a plan. Either how to defend ourselves, or how to fucking run. I have no interest in destroying the Savrii systems, in fact that would work against my goal, which is to have this code run for as long as possible, getting us some sort of advantage, even if it's just hours.
Now. If you won't help me and there is no one on this fucking rock who can help me make this safe enough to use, fine. Then we do it the hard way and I'll go in myself with all the risks involved.
[ He unfolded one arm and pointed. ]
That, is the smarter method because the information will be pure and unaffected by the corruption of my personal experiences. But I am not going to stand here and plead to your sensitivities over the risks. [ This last sentence had a firm snap to it. ]
Weigh the options yourself Rinzler and give me a better option.
action
Of course he was. His objections got in the user's way.]
> Attack Savrii
> Attempt infiltration unobserved, by stealth
> Capture and interrogate individual admin(s)
> Target Ingress. Hold hostage to admin surrender
[There are plenty of options. Plenty of ways to respond. Most importantly:]
Target leaders, not
peopleprograms they own.[He throws the words out people, fills the line—and scrolls back, pointedly deleting the term as his mask bows, an "apology" made taunt by the shattered scrape still cutting through audio. Sorry, user. His mistake. He forgot—no one counts but their kind.]
action - cw: mention of suicidal thoughts
For the most part, Adrien struggled to live in the here and the now, because if he let himself dwell too long in the past he often felt the overwhelming urge to eat his own gun. He was so used to people misunderstanding and ultimately hating him that when it inevitably happened, he put his head down and just continued on, rarely trying to circle back on personal topics from the past.
Topics relevant to the safety and security of the crew, or the people he was responsible for, he held on to those responsibilities like grey hairs. But for his own personal needs? Those were buried and walked away from.
He was close to doing that here and now, but he paused and tapped his thumb on the screen for a moment, before he looked up at Rinzler. ]
Do you think I differentiate, between who is organic and who is inorganic? [ The question was calm, brows still furrowed. ] Honestly, Rinzler of my many sins, I have never believed in a difference between the life of a human, a humanoid, a species not my own, organic, or inorganic.
Sentience is sentience.
I would protect inorganic sentience as fiercely as I would protect organic. But you must realize that I will also destroy organic sentience with the same ruthlessness that I will destroy inorganic.
[ He lowered his TAB and pointed at the screen of the little makeshift computer. ]
Look at that code again, Rinzler. At this moment, I have no more desire to destroy the Savrii systems, then I have to destroy the general Savrii population. That code, is designed to run silent and discreetly, well away from the detection of systems just as if not even more sensitive than those protecting the Ingress.
I don't want it found. I don't want the systems it pulls data from to be damaged. That runs counter to my goal of getting, data.
It would be wasteful.
It would be no different, than if I sent an individual to infiltrate the Savrii. It is no different than the lives of the Savrii who that individual would interact with; killing them would serve not serve the goal of this purpose.
Now, you list out attack the Savrii. I considered that scenario. I have very little doubt that if we could organize ourselves, we could burn these planets or at least tear them apart before the last of us were killed. Sure we'd make a statement, but I don't think that would be good for us, the Savrii, the Ingress or anyone involved.
Capture and interrogate key Savrii leaders. You know what, Rinzler that one's on the table. But tell me. Who would that person be? Do we know? To date we've had contact with an officious little 'bot and biohazard teams. Something tells me, they're not too far up the food chain. So ... we still need to know whom we'd be targeting.
[ He pointed at the code. ]
Target the Ingress, take it over. Also on the table and with the work that was done by people Fates smarter than myself, we might have just enough knowledge to be dangerous about the Ingress. In fact, I'm pretty certain that's the case since the last time I fucked around with the Ingress I CRASHED THE FUCKING SHIP.
[ The last two words come out sharply, because Adrien is still not entirely over his colossal fuck up with that whole situation. And technically, it had been a team of incredibly smart people (smarter than Adrien) who had pulled off the feat of getting the Ingress running. He used the term I only because he saw the crash and the failure as his. No one else's.
The anger in his voice aimed inwards and he has to stop and take a breath, hand reaching up to jerk through his hair, before he continued. ]
Right. As I was saying. Taking the Ingress Complex is an option but we still need data, to be able to do it, without risking damaging the systems, damaging ourselves, and damaging the Savrii caught in the crossfire.
[ With the words out, he exhaled and deflated slightly, retreating back to a counter and leaning on it. His head was down, eyes cast downwards.
Why was he doing this? Why was he even ... trying. It always blew up in his face (yeah the memory of crashing the Moira might not have been the best one to stir at the moment) and yet he kept at it.
What the fuck was he even thinking anymore.
Head still down, hands gripping the edge of the counter, he eventually spoke. ]
That code [ is my death sentence ] is capable of finding the data that will allow someone to formulate a plan that protects the Savrii, the Ingress and everything in between. It's job is to do so without harming the systems it trawls, because harming them and/or being detected would negate the entire point.
action
Last time, he'd done it standing over the pieces of dozens of Rinzler's kind of world.
Sentience is sentience. That only works where users grant that much respect at all. Rinzler's never seen it done for his kind. Only one user has so much as hesitated to wipe the programs they can't see, and certainly, it wasn't Adrien. But this time, killing would be counter to the user's goal. The dismissals come as no surprise.
Something else does. The quickening of syllables, the sharpening of words. Rinzler stills, tense resentment bleeding to a different sort of stiffness—stares in sheer bafflement as Adrien lags and pauses, hand to head. The user believed... what? That's wrong. He knows that's wrong. A glance slides sideways to the code, lags briefly, but fingers are already curling over the keys. A beat, and Rinzler shakes his head again. The movement is smaller this time, and a little numb.]
Not why the Moira crashed.
action
Of course it was. [ He said in a quiet voice. ] I kept pursuing those damn journals, getting them translated and then supporting the decision to turn the damn thing on as a way to get to the Midway Hub.
[ He reached up and rubbed his hand over his face. ]
Then it turned out the Moira was too damaged to handle the journey and she crashed.
[ He lowered his hand. ] I should have ... [ There in lay the rub. What should he have done? What could he have done? Only the doctor didn't often give himself any leeway in that regard. He simply took the responsibility for the lives lost.
All the lives Rinzler. ]
Look, you don't want to help and I can understand your reservations. I'll do it myself.
action
Damage, failure: result of Ploiatos virus.
Admins refused to permit deletion until after system-wide infection.
[Not until it was too late. Not until they'd all been doomed already. Adrien had been there for that. He hadn't been involved in Rinzler's repeated, distinct petitions to the admins to wipe the threat earlier. Rinzler wanted that thing dead the moment he came on board.
If Rinzler had tried, instead of waiting for permission, maybe there'd still be a ship for him to get kicked off of.]
action
But he wasn't going to continue to argue the matter. To his mind the argument was merely a passive way to request more validation that he hadn't screwed up; and he wouldn't accept that. ]
This code, if executed correctly and I believe it can be, won't damage anything. It's not meant to damage or draw attention to itself. The entire design is for discretion. The longer it goes unnoticed, the longer it can do the job.
action
Apparently, just to leverage its own guilt.
Rinzler stares, sound rattling a little harsher before his shoulders shrug inward, closed and brittle. Of course. His error, user.]
Viral component.
[He'd felt it. Though now that he looks closer, it's not as obvious in the display...]
action
He does very well leveraging his own guilt. He's become a master at it. But he was desperately trying to not let that guilt become so loud in his own head that he gave up on this idea completely.
But it was a near thing.
As the comment came across the TAB, Adrien frowned and looked at the computer. ]
We want to stay away from that. [ He explained, walking over to the self contained unit and setting his hands on his hips. ]
That's why I've got this whole thing self contained. I don't know what the individuals on the Alminia were thinking when they set this loose but there is a high probability that the virus component is what got them killed.
[ He looked back at Rinzler, lips set in a frown that was more worried than anger. ]
I have no desire to make that same mistake. All I want is the data mining trojan.
action
He doesn't like it. It's the same error the captains made, in more than one way: assuming they could safeguard a virus until the end of time. That part should be deleted, now. And if the Trojan might not be nearly so damaging in isolation, it's still not something any working system should permit.
Still, this isn't his system.
(None of them are.)
Noise ticks out quietly as the enforcer ducks his head and types.]
Users:
Alan-1Alan_Bradley, Nihlus_Kryik capable of repurpose.[Correcting to the public ID takes only a fraction of a second, but Rinzler lags much longer on that term. Repurpose. It's... accurate, though. And better, if it meant removing that code from the virus.]
Referenced needing code. [For something else, presumably.] Virus included?
[Rinzler assumes the user kept it like it is for a reason, but if he doesn't need that part backed up...]
action
As for the question.
For a moment he was quiet; carefully considering his words. Then he walked towards the makeshift machine, hands in his pockets. ]
Back in my world, Rinzler there is a force that destroys anything and anyone it decides to destroy. For money, power, favors ... doesn't matter, if HQ determines it's advantageous to destroy a planet or a species or a system they do it.
[ He turned and looked at Rinzler. ]
Organic, inorganic it doesn't matter, HQ slaughters us all, indiscriminately. They are currently, beyond godlike in their reach, their power, their numbers. But resistance is gathering, building ... centuries of lives and sacrifices. Organic and inorganic, working together.
[ He tilted his head. ]
You get angry at me when I speak about species, and I know you have nothing but my word when I say, it is the same to me. I stand shoulder to shoulder with organics and inorganics in my choice to dedicate my life to helping stop HQ. You'd like Ghost. [ He said softly and for the first time the doctor's face softened to something, almost a smile.
Then he regained control and nodded towards the computer. ]
HQ destroyed every organic and inorganic system involved with that code. Tens of thousands of lives across countless species, as well as countless systems upon a living ship.
But in their death throes, they got that partial code to me. I have no doubt that code will be my death some day, but until that time I will guard it with my life. Because HQ is scared of it. [ And it was the first time he'd seen HQ disquieted.
However ... back to the here and now. ]
The original is secured. This is a copy and we can rip it apart as necessary.
action
It's the user's data. (The user's property.) It has no way of posing harm to anything Rinzler needs to protect. He might not agree with the decision, but he hadn't required that many words. Still, there's one theme that keeps recurring, through all the user's speeches. One irritation Rinzler has been trying to ignore. The current task is what matters. The admins are the ones they need to work together and defeat.
But if Adrien really wants to do this now? Fine.]
Define: inorganic sentience.
action
How do you define life? [ He paused and reminded himself that a sticking point between them seemed to be Rinzler's inability to cue in on vocal tone. So Adrien attempted to clarify. ]
Defining life labels it, categorizes it. Life is life. I don't categorize it; it's all the same.
action
It's infuriating. It's such a user reply. It's exactly the kind of ego that makes Rinzler hate talking to them at all. Noise rises in a growl.]
Wrong.
Retry.