Sabriel (
bindsthedead) wrote2019-03-09 01:38 am
PSL
There was a time when Sabriel might have been eager to see the inside of Cyberlife Tower. Her class had been to Detroit when she was thirteen, and they'd toured an android factory- or the part of it they showed to tourists, at least- and visited museums and art galleries and all the sorts of things Young Ladies ought to see, but weren't available in the small town of Wyverley, or in Bain.
But Sabriel wasn't here for a school trip. Recent events in Ancelstierre meant that with the sudden loss of all android soldiers meant that soldiers from the entirely human garrison at the Wall had been transferred elsewhere- which meant fewer soldiers watching the border, on top of the losses from Kerrigor's attack, and a necromancer had slipped across, making his way to the largest city that was close enough to the Wall that magic still worked- one that seemed rather different than how she remembered it.
But what was occupying most of her attention was the Cyberlife representative in front of her. Sabriel listened politely as the woman spoke about malfunctioning machines and simulated emotions and how things that weren't alive couldn't die, so why would a necromancer- and from the woman's voice it was clear she didn't believe such things were real- want with deactivated androids?
Sabriel stood up and shook the woman's hand, telling her she'd been very helpful without meaning a word of it, and headed out the office before pausing.
She sensed something ominously familiar- Death, and a recent one at that. She turned another corner, following the sensation as a hound tracked a scent, half-expecting someone to spot her, to see her in her armor and bells (security had made her check her sword at the front desk) and tell her she wasn't allowed to be here.
But no one came, and no one living was in the laboratory she went into- just a dead- (deactivated?) android on a table-or its head and torso at least, with panels on its chest removed to reveal tubes and biocomponents, and Sabriel felt she'd stepped into a morgue and found an autopsied body.
Sabriel was seized by a sudden impulse. If androids weren't alive, then she'd simply waste some time, but if they were... well, she'd have a source of information she could interrogate as she would any Dead spirit. And unlike the representative she'd just spoken to, she could force it to answer honestly and completely.
Decision made, Sabriel undid the straps and drew Saraneth from the bandolier. This far from the Wall, stepping into Death took a deliberate effort, but soon Sabriel was in the First precinct and she cast around with her senses, trying to feel out the spirit of the android- if it had one, it couldn't have gone beyond the First Gate, and probably shouldn't be that far into the the First Precinct.
But Sabriel wasn't here for a school trip. Recent events in Ancelstierre meant that with the sudden loss of all android soldiers meant that soldiers from the entirely human garrison at the Wall had been transferred elsewhere- which meant fewer soldiers watching the border, on top of the losses from Kerrigor's attack, and a necromancer had slipped across, making his way to the largest city that was close enough to the Wall that magic still worked- one that seemed rather different than how she remembered it.
But what was occupying most of her attention was the Cyberlife representative in front of her. Sabriel listened politely as the woman spoke about malfunctioning machines and simulated emotions and how things that weren't alive couldn't die, so why would a necromancer- and from the woman's voice it was clear she didn't believe such things were real- want with deactivated androids?
Sabriel stood up and shook the woman's hand, telling her she'd been very helpful without meaning a word of it, and headed out the office before pausing.
She sensed something ominously familiar- Death, and a recent one at that. She turned another corner, following the sensation as a hound tracked a scent, half-expecting someone to spot her, to see her in her armor and bells (security had made her check her sword at the front desk) and tell her she wasn't allowed to be here.
But no one came, and no one living was in the laboratory she went into- just a dead- (deactivated?) android on a table-or its head and torso at least, with panels on its chest removed to reveal tubes and biocomponents, and Sabriel felt she'd stepped into a morgue and found an autopsied body.
Sabriel was seized by a sudden impulse. If androids weren't alive, then she'd simply waste some time, but if they were... well, she'd have a source of information she could interrogate as she would any Dead spirit. And unlike the representative she'd just spoken to, she could force it to answer honestly and completely.
Decision made, Sabriel undid the straps and drew Saraneth from the bandolier. This far from the Wall, stepping into Death took a deliberate effort, but soon Sabriel was in the First precinct and she cast around with her senses, trying to feel out the spirit of the android- if it had one, it couldn't have gone beyond the First Gate, and probably shouldn't be that far into the the First Precinct.

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The JB400 twists skittishly at some sound he makes, spotting him, then scuttles to the side to make way. Connor steps into the doorway, every sense on high alert.
The RK800 is the only android in the room. There's a--mess on the floor? Connor stares at his counterpart, before looking down more carefully. Are those.... mechanical legs, with an elongated body? There's also a few shreds of debris that don't look like they came with the device, and after a moment Connor looks up, finding a vent cover that's been ripped to shreds.
"What was it doing?" he asks flatly, and for a moment he reconstructs the events, putting things together bit by bit.
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"Trying to plug in."
He stands, turning back toward the other RK800—and, after a moment, tosses the centipede that way as well. His counterpart can perform his own analysis.
"It came in through the vent. Have you heard anything?"
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"Not near the lab." Connor scans it, takes 0.2 seconds to digest the meaning of its jaw-plugs (high speed, flexible design), then drops it off by his shoe. "That doesn't mean there aren't more trying to sneak in."
Worst case scenario: the humans have as many more of those centipedes as they need to fill the vents and walls until everyone underground is overwhelmed. Would humans do that? Connor crushes the head-shell under his heel, destroying the data plugs.
"We need a new plan. We can't protect this room the way we expected if they can get in like this."
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"How did it get in? Maybe I could set up some sort of- barrier, to seal off whatever path it took to get in."
If either of them know how it got in, or what it was programmed to do once it did. Then Sabriel hears- something else. An almost metallic rattling, skittering sound.
"What are they trying to do?" And how do we stop them?
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"The vents," he repeats. "So unless—"
A familiar skittering stalls the words in Connor's throat. He steps back toward the console, gun coming up as he tries to track the source of the noises.
There's no time. Not to argue, not to plan. Certainly not to block off every ventilation shaft in the building. Connor eyes the ductwork running overhead. Would it even work to seal the openings? Those limbs looked sharp enough to burrow through aluminum.
His eyes stay on the walls and ceiling, but Connor grits his teeth, head turning slightly toward Abhorsen. "Will your barriers block electronic signals? Or set off anything inside?"
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It's--not level with the ceiling. Connor looks until his eyes are resting on a wall by the door. It leaves him with an equally clear view of the JB400 watching them speak like a ping pong tournament, but Connor ignores him, stepping forward and bringing up his gun. When he reaches the wall he's even with one of the room's larger capacitors, and the skittering is louder than ever.
There's a low vent just behind the capacitor. "... Here," Connor says, heedless of any conversation that might be happening. "Another point of ingress."
He's ready to shoot, and just when the skittering is at its closest and clearest, it stops on its own, as though listening at the grating.
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"I don't know what it will block," Sabriel admits, her gaze darting back to Connor for a moment, "But it shouldn't set anything off if I don't go overboard." She doesn't think so, at least.
Sabriel's Charter mark flashes as she reaches into the Charter, seeking out marks of warding and forbidding, of sealing and barring. She doesn't need powerful marks- and in fact, a powerful spell might risk setting off the failsafe, but if she can keep them from coming out of this vent, the centipedes will have to come out of a more distant vent, and be out in the open- and vulnerable- for longer.
"Should I assume they have microphones?" Sabriel asks conversationally, her eyes still on the vent.
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Do they have microphones? "Possibly," he answers. "Cameras, certainly." There hadn't been audio components present in the remains he examined—but his bullet had destroyed the bulk of its "head". Now isn't the time to search and reconstruct the pieces.
His eyes snap up as another scrape echoes from the ceiling. That's two in proximity. At least. "We need this room shut down," Connor snaps. His eyes flit to the JB400 still hovering outside. "Are you programmed for systems work?"
It twitches back half a step, mouth opening for a long moment. "N-Not—"
A silver flash drops down into the hallway, and the JB's stuttered protest sharpens to a yell. Another centipede is swarming up the android. It jerks back, clawing desperately to pull the creature free... and Connor's gun rises, aim narrowing—
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"He's not dead, yet!" Connor shouts at him, every synthetic nerve tuned to an extreme. He stays there for an instant, hand poised to counter that same gun hand and keep it from swinging right back at him. It won't help the fact that the android may have other guns, but--
But nothing more should be necessary. Shouldn't.
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—only to stall, weapon faltering as his predecessor meets his stare. What is he—?
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There's no time. There's no time, and—Connor's jaw clenches, eyes dragging up from the barrel of his predecessor's gun.
"I know."
He points his weapon downwards.
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The spell she reaches for is an old one, and familiar. The marks settle into her mind like an old nursery rhyme she couldn't forget even if she wanted.
"Anet! Calew! Ferhan!" The silver blades strike the centipede in quick succession- the first one punching through its midsection, leaving it nearly bisected, and the second two striking squarely at its head, leaving little more than broken, smoking metal in their wake.
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pointlessstandstill while someone fought for their life. The centipede is dashed to pieces, and for all that the lower half flails and wiggles, it's obviously not going anywhere.Connor turns to the JB400, then pulls up short, face falling like a door slamming shut. The JB400 is frozen where he'd fallen to one knee, hands poised as though reaching for an invisible scarf. There's a bare patch of exoskeleton at his neck, and an open socket with a connection visible and easily accessible where a human would have had a pulse point.
His LED burns red at his temple. He's perfectly still.
Connor's firewalls brace, and he touches the android's shoulder with two fingers, sending a ping. The only response is a senseless stock 'Please Stand By...', and Connor lets go again, lips thin.
"Shit."
The JB400's life isn't even the only loss. If that centipede accessed the deviant's memories, and the android's knowledge of their resources and plans--it's one more thing to worry about, and they can't afford more.
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He hopes.
When he stops, it's at an angle. Connor's eyes flick back to the other RK800 as his weapon rises, fixing on the vent their first intruder had made use of. The slats are partly crumpled, a bullet hole carving out further space—behind which a new mass of silver legs are starting to seethe forward.
"There's another one here."
The warning is terse and flat. It's followed by two shots.
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"Let's make them spend that much more time out in the open." Hopefully the JB400 will recover in time to help them- he's not dead, she didn't feel him die or even come close to it- so it's possible he'll recover soon. In the meantime, they just need to keep him safe.
And hope the centipedes don't realize there are more deviants, vulnerable deviants, in another part of the facility, while they wait for Jericho to arrive and chase the army away.
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Connor's shoulders coil tensely, LED burning yellow on blue. Then, without a word of acknowledgement, he forces himself back into motion. There's fine legs scuttling on hollow metal somewhere nearby, and though the source isn't visible yet, Connor spots an unblocked vent several doors away.
Connor walks towards it, frowning. "If we block every exit we know about, then they'll search until they find others."
Nevertheless, he reviews the marks he saw her use inside the kill-switch room, concentrating. He's--not very clear on the energy allocations of it, but he thinks he's far enough not to be a danger. Carefully, gracelessly, he summons up marks and sends them up to the vent overhead, pouring energy into the spell.
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As his predecessor's pointed commentary notes: it's unlikely to be enough.
He tracks the other android's tension, and the subsequent stalk off. The RK800 is stressed by him shooting, but not enough to interfere that time. Had the JB400 been the motivating factor? It seems likely. Connor eyes the frozen shape in the doorway and scowls. Even if he had shot it, he doubts it would be worse off.
...There's one way to find out.
He glances around the room, checking for immediate hazards, then takes a couple steps to the hallway. His copy is a few doors down, and Connor glances over, logging the spellcasting with only a flicker of frustration before he turns his focus back to the red-lit JB.
"I'm going to probe its systems."
If the other Connor plans to stop him, he'd prefer to know before the act this time.
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Once that's done, she turns back to Connor- she needs to baptize him, if they keep working together, and he's amenable, she distantly realizes. Having three mages working together is better than just two.
"We don't need to block all of them," Sabriel says, her voice low, "Just enough that they have to get into the open far enough away that we can take them out more easily. Especially since using a gun is less draining than my methods."
Far enough away that the centipedes will spend more time out of the vents. Not so far that they stumble onto the other deviants while looking for more open vents.
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Abhorsen speaks, and Connor glances, mouth tightening. He's within view of the LED he'd already seen earlier, and his overall conclusion is the same as then: "It looks like a system crash, at best."
By his tone, it's clear his hopes aren't high. This is no longer a question of compassion for the living, but respect for the dead, and proper handling of desperately needed recycling.
Connor tips his head at her other words, glancing down the hall. His gun is still in his right hand, and while he doesn't seem to have a use for it, he hasn't reholstered it, either.
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...He'll just have to be faster. Connor exhales shortly, switching his own weapon to his right hand as the skin rolls back from his left.
"Watch the hall."
He places a hand on the deviant's shoulder and initiates the probe, LED spinning quick yellow. The JB400 doesn't react, but Connor's brow furrows immediately, most of the data returning a corrupted hash. He combs through it carefully, trying to trace back to the access logs—and guard himself against any malware left inside.
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Connor will know how to help the android, and the android would probably want Connor's help rather than hers anyway. Even if the other Connor hadn't sounded optimistic... he wasn't dead yet.
So Sabriel waits, listen for the sound of skittering legs getting closer, watching for the gleam of metal, and waiting for help to arrive.
She's not sure how they'll know Jericho's arrived, aside from no more centipedes appearing. Maybe Connor will have some other way of telling.
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A second passes. Two seconds. The RK800 doesn't fall victim to any attacks of his own, and after a second or so more Connor checks his gun's clip, glancing around.
His hearing is good enough to catch faint sounds in the distance, and not good enough to identify what's making them. He recognizes the whisper of passive ventilation. He hears the whirr of computer fans. Are those faint footsteps? A line appears between Connor's eyebrows, as he realizes that they haven't warned the rescued deviants about the centipedes.
Connor eyes his counterpart, then Abhorsen, then the small door--
--it might be too dangerous to hack the self-destruct, but maybe there's a lower security station he can use to hack an intercom.
Connor leaves the corridor without another word, stepping back into the small room.
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A full reconstruction proves impossible, but Connor can at least source the bulk of the damage. Memory. Files are corrupted and half-accessed, readdressed incompatibly across a wash of sectors in what seems to be an interrupted format. The centipede had been downloading stored data from this android... and resetting systems as it went.
Answers found, Connor terminates the probe, eyes blinking as he refocuses—
—on the flash of silver, dropping in his periphery. On the dig of metal claws into his arm. Connor jerks back in horror, elbow smashing against the wall—but the thing seethes past undaunted, heading for his port—
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