Post by Unit-A09 KRIEOS on Aug 11, 2014 18:05:50 GMT -8
In the darkness of the supply depot, a lone mech sat unmoving with its back to a steel case, an orange light slowly pulsing from the top of its head. It was a damaged mech, that much was clear to any who could have seen it. Its right arm had been completely ripped off at the elbow, the forearm still grasping a metal frame nearly two hundred meters away. The casing which held its head was visibly cracked, and a large piece of shrapnel had become embedded in the unit's torso, impaling it into the steel case. However, the most unusual part of the mech, beyond its arm, beyond its bright light, was what it was broadcasting repeatedly over its external comms, barely hearable over the Hyperion's emergency alarms:
"This is Unit-A09, assigned to the Hyperion by order of the Titan Project. Any organic crew, recover this platform upon discovery. Vocalize emergency code, 3680. Over. This is Unit-A09, assigned to the Hyperion by order..."
((OOC:// Short post, but its supposed to be that way. Actual responses will be much longer, this is just to set the scene so you know what you're dealing with. Anyways, feel free to join and reclaim KRIEOS for the colonists. And in case you want an insentive, well, KRIEOS will probably become somewhat attached to whoeever reactivated it. Never know when a combat mech will come in handy in the future, eh?))
Post by Cameron Foster on Aug 12, 2014 19:12:54 GMT -8
It took all of the will-power he possessed not to punch the computer screen. Its constant beeping and flashing red error messages along with the Hyperion’s overheard blaring alarm system were rubbing his nerves raw. Cameron Foster let out a loud, frustrated sigh as he turned once again from the flashing screen and continued his walkthrough. Beneath his feet, the normally brightly illuminated electrical arc that served as the ship’s power supply was pulsating weakly. Once again, he descended down one of many steep ladders that led into the bowels of the ship’s engine room. He’d spent the last hour splicing wires and welding simple fixes, but according to the computer’s information, the damage was much more severe.
Cameron climbed back out of this section, and made his way hesitantly towards the center of the main floor of the engine room. The room holding the ship’s main reactor lies behind a heavy steel door – or at least it was supposed to. The door itself was missing having been torn from its hinges upon impact. As he feared, the reactor, typically suspended in the dome-shaped room by an intricate connection of steel bars, lay skewed at a 45˚ angle. Many of its electrical connections were severed completely, while others hung by pure luck, explaining the electrical arc’s weak but still functioning pulsations. Cameron wondered just how much longer the Core could stand at the angle it was currently positioned. One wrong movement by the ship itself or by a bad decision on his part, and the whole thing could come crashing down. Cameron was surprised it had lasted this long.
He left the reactor room quickly, heading towards the supply room. Cameron needed to find a way to better support the precariously leaning Core. There was nothing in the engine room itself that would serve the purpose, so he hoped to find something in the supply room. He left the engine room and made his way down the main floor corridor. The corridor was packed with panicked colonists confused about their situation, why the were awakened early, wondering about the condition of the rest of the fleet, and trying to figure out what they were expected to do now. Some were still dressed in their white cyro-suits, while others managed to put their regular clothing together before leaving their chambers. Cameron himself managed to find a pair of jeans and a plain, black t-shirt, all of which he was surprised fit so well. He was also surprised to discover he knew exactly where he was going. The technology that practically downloaded his intelligence was amazing indeed.
Finally migrated through the crowed, he found his way into the supply room. Cameron was hit suddenly with silence; apparently, someone finally figured out how to turn of the Hyperion’s alarm system. The quiet didn’t last long however. As Cameron searched the supply room, he began to hear a faint voice coming from a dark corner. He found the source rather quickly; a disheveled AI Mech repeating its orders on a cycle. The Mech was in bad shaped, battered severely from the crash, missing its arm, giant crack in its skull. Cameron shifted his weight indecisively. The AI was military issued, and he was unsure whether he was authorized to access the bot. Of course, it said “any organic crew,” so Cameron concluded that he counted.
“Unit A-Zero-Nine, Emergency code, three-sixe-eight-zero,” he addressed the bot quietly.
Post by Unit-A09 KRIEOS on Aug 13, 2014 17:40:39 GMT -8
The second the emergency code was voiced, the mech's broadcast ceased. For a moment, there was nothing but silence; silence and the constant pulsing of the orange light. After a bit, however, the mech spoke again, this time something different.
"Running system scan. Alert, platform has sustained immense damage. Running damage scan. Error. Incapable of reading full extent of damage. Damage sensors currently overloaded. Visual readings required." With that, the mech glanced down at its body, pausing for a moment over what was left of its right arm before looking down the length of the rest of its body.
"Photoreceptors are visibly damaged. Left receptor offline, right receptor is currently cracked. Note, this platform has lost all function of its right arm below primary joint. Must- wait. Performing perimeter scan. Infrared offline. Visual contact is confirmed. I- organic?" The mech turned its head to face the one who had restarted its systems, finally noticing the other presence in the room. The lens that covered its photoreceptors slid shut, and then open again as if it was blinking, before cocking its head to the side.
"Identity confirmed as crew member of the Hyperion Titan Project vessel. Rebooting personality matrix. Coming out of diagnostic mode now. Please stand by."
For a moment, the mech stared straight ahead, past the crew member who activated it, as unmoving as it had been before it had been activated. After a few seconds however, the mech's lens opened and closed yet again, and the pulsing orange light on its head case came to a stop. A moment later, and a small cough came from its vocalizers. "I... by the Maker, I'm online." The mech turned its receptors back to the crew member, focusing yet again on the one who'd activated it. Another cough. "And I'm not the only one it seems. You've no idea how glad I am to see you, crewman. I was worried to death nobody would survive the crash. EOS said the ship might hit too hard."
More coughing. Clearly, the mech had been programmed to respond in a manner equivalent to an organic when it sustained injuries. If anything, its response was incredibly off considering an organic who had sustained the damage it had would have either been screaming, or just outright dead. As it was, the mech could barely move. To its credit, however, it tried.
"What is your status, crewman?" the mech asked suddenly. "My sensors are not showing anything wrong with you, but my visuals are damaged and I am having difficulty seeing. EOS's calculations held that even should the vessel survive the landing, the organic crew's safety might be compromised." The tone of the mech's voice was one of clear concern for the organic. Nothing too surprising of course; any AI placed on board a Titan Project vessel was undoubtedly going to be more concerned about their fellow personnel then their own status.
Post by Cameron Foster on Aug 13, 2014 21:06:54 GMT -8
For a moment, Cameron was sure the bot had sustained more internal damage that it looked like from the outside seeing how it did not respond immediately. He must have just been impatient, though. The AI came to life suddenly and began assessing its own status realizing quickly its right arm had been severed and also vocalizing the damage to its “eyes.” Cameron hadn’t notice the crack in the right one, but it seemed to follow the crack than ran from its forehead downward. The mech’s left eye however did not seem to be damaged, at least not from the outside. He might be able to repair it.
Unit-A09 finally took notice of the organic who re-booted it. Cocking its head and “blinking,” it spoke to him. It wasn’t until it came out of diagnostic mode that it began to sound more like a conscious, emotional, self-aware AI, taking pure joy in the fact that it was awake and that it was an undamaged, organic crew member that had awakened it. Cameron couldn’t help but smile at the bot’s excitement. He responded quickly to its question, hoping to reassure the bot about the crew members’ condition, seeing how it seemed genuinely concerned. The crash must have been worse that he thought. Of course, the state of the Hyperion’s main engine should have told him that as well.
“Most of the crew members were securely fastened in our chambers. I’m completely unscathed, others have some bumps and bruises. I haven’t heard of anything too serious. You’re probably in the worse shape of anyone I’ve seen so far.” Cameron wasn’t really sure how to talk to a mech. The AI’s assigned to the Titan project were the epitome of humanity-infused robotics. They posses emotion, personality, and self-awareness. Cameron didn’t feel like he should talk to it like it was a mere machine, but he was unsure of how it would respond if he didn’t address it properly.
He continued, “Your arm is severely damaged, I’m sure you can tell. Might be able to weld it back into place, but you’ll need some electrical work in order to move it properly again. You’ll need to replace the right eye – I’m sure you have spare parts for that sort of thing. Hell, you probably have a spare arm among other things; Just a matter of locating it. You’re left eye doesn’t seem to be damaged, though. My guess, your wiring’s come loose. If you don’t mind, I can take a look.”
Cameron wondered vaguely if the mech could mind, but he quickly shrugged off the joke. Part of his job was fixing this sort of thing, like a doctor operating on a patient. Surely the doctor would poke fun at his clients. “Also, you’ve got a major piece of shrapnel pinning you to that steel case there. Before I remove it, you need to run a scan to assess what kind of damage you’ve sustained there. Hate for you to, for lack of a better term, bleed to death by loosing all of your hydraulic fluids.”
Post by Unit-A09 KRIEOS on Aug 14, 2014 19:29:16 GMT -8
When the crewman answered the mech's query, the AI relaxed slightly, allowing its frame to slump back into a less damaging position. Its lenses clicked, before nodding. "That's... excellent news, crewman. I suppose I should put more faith in the design of the vessel... considering the same minds designed me." The mech chuckled a bit, before descending into coughing once again. At least it was more relaxed now, and less likely to kill itself while struggling to move away from its current position, a possibility that the crewman brought up. It hadn't particularly occurred to the mech that that was an issue, so busy was he with making sure the crew itself was fine.
The mech proceeded to cock its head in surprise as the crewman began rattling off a series of technical information about its damaged systems. Without pristine photoreceptors, its facial recognition software was worthless, so it couldn't be sure, but it was willing to bet that it had somehow managed to get lucky and be retrieved by a mechanical specialist. A member of the engineering team, most likely. One of the multitude of assistants, or the head engineer it wasn't sure, but realistically it didn't matter. What mattered was that it had been found by someone who actually knew a thing or two about repairs. Considering where they currently found themselves, that meant the mech might actually be able to be semi-functional in no time at all.
Glancing down at its chest, the mech noticed the piece of shrapnel embedded in its chest that the crewman brought to its attention, and laughed again, followed by more coughing. How its system diagnostic had missed that was impossible to grasp. In either case, the crewman was right. It would need to do a manual scan to figure it out. Now that it was out of diagnostic mode, it would be able to override the overloaded sensors and file through the pings itself.
"I'd be a fool if I refused, crewman. If you think you can, take a look. Its not like I'm capable of resisting at the moment anyways." The mech made an attempt to shrug, and attempt that failed completely given its inability to move more than an inch higher than it was. "I will also attempt to diagnose my current interior damage." As it finished its statement, several servos started to whine inside the platform's casing, followed by several clicking noises. The mech's lens blinked.
"I realize I've been rude," the mech said suddenly, its lens opening wider, as if it surprise. "I am Lieutenant Unit-A09, Wolkeyui Enterprises Stalker-Class Mobile Intelligence Mech, Command Model." It paused for a second, and laughed again. "You, however, can call me by my designation, crewman: KRIEOS. My full title is incredibly long, and if my memory cortex is not lying to me, it is human custom to address one another by desginat- er, name. Sorry."
After a moment, the sound of whining servos and clicks died down, and KRIEOS sighed. "Damage scan is complete, crewman. It appears luck is on my side. The shrapnel has mostly damaged my armored plating, rather than internal systems. My motion tracker hardware has been scrapped, as has several minor systems, but that is about the extent of the damage there. Removal of the shrapnel should be relatively simple, so long as it is done carefully."
Post by Cameron Foster on Aug 18, 2014 14:45:17 GMT -8
Had it not been for its computerized voice and the lack of blood pouring from the mech’s abdomen, Cameron would have sworn that he was interacting with a man in suit of armor rather than a bot. He couldn’t help but smile at the mech’s range of emotions; from the relief in its tone over the crew members’ condition to its utter surprise at its impaled state, its personality was impressively formed. Cameron crossed his arms as the mech attempted to analyze its internal state. He’d wait to examine the eye until its diagnostics were complete.
The sound of its whirring sensors was interrupted only by the bot’s surprised voice. He introduced himself as KRIEOS, a stalker-class mech from Wolkeyui. This revelation somewhat surprised Cameron as he would have assumed this mech would be safely in the company of the Captain, not partially dismantled in the supply room. He wasn’t sure if there were other mobile AI’s onboard, but assuming his downloaded memory served him well, Cameron recalled that this particular AI is one of twelve assigned to each of the Titan Project’s immigrating vessels. Its configuration is the best in the world, the epitome of supreme robotic engineering. Its importance to the Project’s success ranked high. Cameron felt a sudden urgency to make sure KRIEOS was repaired quickly.
A smile crossed his features as he replied, “KRIEOS, huh? You can designate me as Cameron. Fortunately for you, I’m one of the Hyperion’s mechanical engineers. Should be able to get you back online and fully functional soon. I’m sure the Captain is wondering where you are.” KRIEOS continued checking his systems and soon confirmed that its damage was mostly external with the exception of a few minor systems. Luck, as the mech said, was truly on his side. Cameron didn’t believe much in luck, preferring to believe that everything that has happened to them was part of some universal master plan. Even as the thought crossed his mind, it sounded ridiculous; but if luck was all that explained their situation, their lives… Cameron didn’t finish the thought.
He nodded as KRIEOS finished updating him. “Alright,” Cameron said to himself as he took a closer look at the imbedded shrapnel. “From what you say and what I can see, seems that as long as we just pull it straight out, it won’t cause any further damage. Steady yourself so you don’t move too much or fall once I wrench it out. With that, Cameron pulled on a pair of gloves and gripped the shard carefully. For a moment, the metal refused to budge; but with a bit more effort the shard gave way. Cameron stumbled back a bit, but looked up at KRIEOS in order to make sure the sliver came out clean.