Tech Team catchall [semi-open]

[lostsymmetry]

» WHO? 9S, Amos, Erika, Hank, Haruto, Naomi, and anyone else who wants to prod the station's tech—or the people working with it.
» WHEN? After the gravity problems.
» WHERE? Mostly Deck 1, but some work throughout Reverie.
» WHAT? Collaborating to unlock station systems.
» WARNINGS? None planned; will add as needed.


One month in, and one major station failure. Not to mention the mystery rosters, fragmented logs, and doors that like to eat people for lunch. With Reverie's latest crisis mostly back under control, there's time for everyone to rest, recover...

...or, put those resources towards unlocking what they can.

The physical doors aren't budging anytime soon. But air, heat, and electricity all move throughout the station. So do the signals from the communication consoles, and the software that connects them. Whether your skills include hacking terminals or rewiring connections, you can probably lend a hand. And what you can do will go a lot further with some like-minded people helping out.

So, welcome to the party. Less alcohol, more live electrical wires... and occasional (de)activation of nearby lights or doors. Local power fields seem to be coming from inside the walls, a possible objective for some. The more digitally inclined might find themselves engaging with the communication consoles, trying to extract data or lift the apparent lockdown.

Watch your step on those dismantled panels, and try not to cuss out the software too much. At least some of it is on your side.


[[ooc: This is a catch-all for tech things. Hank's bought into a few bits of station access, which I'll be tossing up starters for below. Feel free to add your own or tag around—on the above objectives or any others. Spectators also welcome!]]

Comments

Hank | OTA

[lostsymmetry]

A. For things we've always had but had no eyes to see

[As much blood, debris, and sheer chaos as Reverie's physical halls have been recently been subject to, the network paths that make up its communication system are unsettlingly pristine. No relays to the other systems. No logs recorded before the last few weeks. No fragments to indicate that there ever were. If it weren't for the occasional resurfaced file, it might be easy to assume these consoles were always as dead and boring as they feel. But if they were just cleaned out for the newcomers... who by? What ran these systems before that?

And would anything stop the people responsible if they chose to wipe it all again?

That last one, Hank does his best not to dwell on. There's enough to worry with the carbons he can see—about or for them, depending on the day. His own access terminal is out of easy reach, but a skilled enough programmer could do plenty across a remote connection. Fortunate, that these operators are focused on a different problem. And even better if he can find a way to be of help.

The blue geometry of the AI's "face" glows on all nearby terminals, flickering occasionally to Domesticon's logo. Hank won't distract anyone who's occupied, but he's happy to talk: providing feedback for the hackers' efforts, testing the lockdown from the inside, or just chatting with any curious passerby. He'll also offer deck-wide warnings when they're about to test any big upgrades. Probably for the best... especially when the second try at accessing the station's lights produces a brief blackout.]

<Oops. I'm sorry.>

[Success?]


B. Something new is going to happen

[Breaks may no longer be a part of Domesticon's manual, but Hank's pretty sure you organic types still need one. And even those less bound to human needs could do with some time to refocus or recharge. Anyone who's been at one task for a surplus of hours—especially if they've begun showing signs of fatigue—will hear a friendly voice emerging from the nearest console.]

How's it going?


C. But nothing we'd expect

[They've made some progress. Not everything, and no life support or station power yet. But enough access to keep an eye on things—and maybe, make it easier to go forward. Say, after most of the technicians wake up.

With the repair efforts largely on hold for the "night", Hank turns his focus back across the station, skimming between cameras more or less at random. The halls are quiet, but he pauses where he sees movement. Watching living people is a treat he doubts will ever get old.

And then the person on his camera wavers. And disappears.

Any of the tech crew still outside their rooms will find the nearest console flickering very hurriedly to life. The voice that emerges from it is recognizably Hank's, but rushed. Babbling.]

Okay, okay, uh. Hi!

Can you help with a, diagnostic?

[He sounds scared.]

---

[[ooc: <bracket text> from Hank comes in a robotic monotone, regular text sounds like a human voice.

While he'll be glad to work on any projects, his bonus AC will guarantee success in unlocking access to the lights, (not-sealed) doors, and power flow monitoring through the station. Feel free to assume your character is helping with any part of that!]]

[veristitalian]

Hank.

[Says Jasnah, approvingly, when he greets her from the console.]

It's good to hear you're still with us.

[The disappearances have been harder and harder to ignore, lately. Jasnah isn't exactly bothered by them, but his perspective is unique. Invaluable, in fact.]

[lostsymmetry]

<Welcome to Domesticon. Working together today, for a more efficient tomorrow.>

[Or, well, not. But Hank chips in for his own self without much delay.]

Nice to see you too, Jasnah.

Can I call you Jasnah? Never did get around to asking which you prefer.

[veristitalian]

Jasnah is fine.

[She agrees, quickly.]

Hank, do you have an interphase somewhere near a chair? I'd like to have a discussion.

[And her attempt at spacewalking has left her aching.]

[lostsymmetry]

[A discussion? Now he's curious.]

No problem. I'm locked out of the consoles in your rooms, but would the mess hall work?

Or you can call me up on your wrist-comm.

[veristitalian]

I'll meet you in the mess hall shortly.

[She proposes, with a gracious nod, already stepping back in that direction.]

Thank you.

[lostsymmetry]

Looking forward to it.

[Naturally, Hank's as much in the mess hall as he is in the hallway now. But when Jasnah enters, she'll see a terminal along one wall flickering steadily.]

[veristitalian]

[She helps herself to a cup of coffee, then comes over to sit in the chair nearest the console.]

Have you been well?

[Mostly she wants to know what that means for a machine?]

[lostsymmetry]

[And here Hank assumes she's just being polite. Which he appreciates!]

Just swell. Thanks for asking.

What's going on with you?

C

[bu773rfly]

[What the fuck is sleep? Erika has logs to review. Long, sprawling readouts that would normally be as routine a read as skimming the back of a shampoo bottle, but regular human hardware has its limitations.

She jumps a little at the sudden blink of light; Botamon bounces like a piece of popcorn and flaps its ears excitedly.

Hank?

Instead of getting up - she's gone from fine to stiff back to fine, and doesn't want to disrupt that - she opens a conversation with him on her own comm.]

What's wrong?

[lostsymmetry]

[Erika, has he mentioned he loves your terrible sleep schedule? Probably not. Probably he teased you friendly-like and tried to encourage you to take a nap.

Hank sure is glad you didn't listen.]

There's, a console down on Deck Three. It's...

I'm getting some weird visuals.

[bu773rfly]

[It takes a lot more than teasing to make her do something she doesn't want to do. Even if it's teasing from a probably-objectively-correct AI.]

Weird? [She hesitates for a moment. Then dunks one of her new little flock of security programs into a message and shoots it his way; if he's concerned about something interfering with his inputs, she's not sure just how much help it'll be, but it is meant to combat the station's interference so it's a cute security blanket if nothing else.] Show me?

[lostsymmetry]

[The file is subject to some quick scrutiny of his own before he unpacks it, nudging the program's focus down an appropriate relay path. It doesn't mesh too well with his own protocols, but that's not an issue—if anything, having a distinct coding style on the problem should help.

Assuming, of course, that software is the problem.]

Here.

[The vidscreen of the nearest console flickers, Hank's blue identifier vanishing to be replaced with a view of Deck 3's hall. Or more specifically, the human walking down it. Only for that human to waver... blur... and vanish out of sight.

The same file transmits to Erika's device for analysis.]

[bu773rfly]

[....


What the fuck?]

...Was that... [rewind. replay. what the fuck?] An apparition? Or one of ours?

[That looked a lot like...yeesh.]

[lostsymmetry]

Ours.

[No hesitation. Hank might not know all the names that fit the faces. He hasn't found the time to speak with everyone aboard. Or the... trust, really. Just because some humans react positively doesn't mean they all will.

But he's been watching. Recording. And quietly, desperately grateful for everyone who makes this place alive.]

He's not turning up anywhere else.

[bu773rfly]

[Erika copies the file to the spare comm and starts running some metadata analysis on it while she rewatches the video on her main screen.]

He just... [She puts fingers to her mouth, faintly horrified. It looks like erasure. Evidence towards AR? Or something really fucking worrying?

Focus. It could be an apparition of one of theirs.]

...Do you know what his comm ID was? [It was on his wrist, right? - rewinds the video - yeah, it was. In case he doesn't, she's already opening up her ping test.]

[lostsymmetry]

Snake eyes. No spaces, no capitals.

[Hank's tried that one already. But his access is limited. There's a chance Erika will have better luck.]

C

[twoaffirmations]

[9S has never heard Hank be anything but upbeat and casual, so the way he rushes through his words has 9S' internal systems spikes in energy, like a boost of adrenaline.

He remains calm as he approaches the terminal.]

Sure. What is it?

[lostsymmetry]

[Calm is good. Calm is—swell, really.]

It's, ah...

Hardware issues. Probably. I could use a, different set of eyes.

[As he scrutinizes... every camera in the vicinity.]

Deck three, residential corridor.

[twoaffirmations]

Okay, I'll be over as soon as I can.

[9S leaves the terminal behind and breaks into a sprint. Within a few minutes, he's made it to Deck 3 and located the nearest terminal in order to rendezvous with Hank.]

Everything looks normal from here. What's up?

[lostsymmetry]

<Working together today, for a more efficient tomorrow.>

[The script might be a programmed response, but Hank's face flickers to life on the screen before Nines even speaks. The moment, in fact, he sees the other AI enter the hall. No viewing difficulties here.]

Right. Right. Okay, uh. Can you see anyone else down the hall?

...

Or anything?

[It's empty.]

[twoaffirmations]

Uhh...no? Am I supposed to?

[9S squints unhelpfully. It doesn't take long for him to catch on to something being amiss.]

Tell me what I'm really looking for, Hank.

[lostsymmetry]

...

[Hank has never wished quite so badly that his systems were damaged.]

Not a what.

Here.

[The display panel flickers, Hank's standby image replaced by a camera view filling the display. It's not difficult to tell after a moment that it's the view from this display, showing the same hall Nines is looking down. A timestamp adds itself in the upper right corner: just a few minutes back as a human walks into the frame.

...and, seconds later, leaves it.]

[twoaffirmations]

[9S leans in, his brow furrowing as he watches the display. He's looking for a human, or...?

His eyes widen as the human suddenly vanishes. He's distressed, but not quite as much as Hank had been. He was only seeing this second hand.]

Hey, what happened? A glitch in the video feed?

[lostsymmetry]

That's what I was hoping.

[Was. The words are grim.]

He's not showing up anywhere else.