Rinzler / Tron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notglitching) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-03-08 10:48 pm
notglitching) wrote in thisavrou_log2016-03-08 10:48 pm
Entry tags:
A circuit of consciousness
Who: Rinzler and YOU
When: second week of March
Where: around the ship, planetside, and everything between
What: buddy meetups, transporter training, and general Rinzlering
Warnings: nothing awful planned; will update if needed.
Library (Open):
Between Inugami and the Moira, Rinzler's spent almost half a cycle in the user world by now. Enough to familiarize himself with plenty of the basics... and not nearly enough to comprehend every reference the users took for granted. Fortunately? There's a file archive on board. Even if the users running it seem to have a bizarre preference for analog.
The library's more common occupants might be accustomed to the sound, but anyone looking for peace and quiet today might want to be careful which shelves they frequent. There's a noise echoing through the wooden floors, a ticking whir that starts around the card catalog before eventually localizing to a reference room upstairs. It sounds like broken hardware. (Or possibly an overly friendly cat.) Anyone who tracks the disruption down will find Rinzler: lurking, glowing, and rumbling ominously as he pages through a nature guide on sharks.
Abort/retry/question?
Ceta rock formations (Open):
The collection of badly-written buildings holds little interest for the enforcer, and the chance to submerge himself in fish guts is not an incentive to go hunt. Still, there's one area of the planet everyone else seems to be discounting, and that makes it worth visiting—for the solitude, if nothing else.
Anyone watching the clouds might notice a streak of orange disappearing downward as Rinzler's lightjet slips past the temporaries toward the denser rock formations lurking below. It takes a little effort, and some strange gravity currents to work around, but it's not long before he's landed himself on one of the jagged peaks. It reminds him of the outlands, more than a little: rough, uncoded, somewhere only the most desperate creatures would go to ground.
Worth seeing what a search turns up.
Cargo Bay/Outside: ~Training Montage~ (Semi-Open)
As partial as Rinzler might be to his own flightcraft, the vehicles he's actually assigned to work with here are in heavy demand on the gas-based planet. Fortunately, he's no longer the only operator. When he'd submitted a report on the transporter concerns, Rinzler had been half-expecting to be wiped for the presumption. Instead, the administrators had assigned a full hex of new pilots and technicians to cover the gap. If this system is still vastly (and worryingly) less efficient than Clu's... Rinzler's beginning to mind some of the other differences less.
He's been tasked with providing tutorial, and over the next week, the program will be meeting with all of the new transporter crew individually. Flight is more his specialty than the minutia of repair, but he's grown familiar enough with the workings of the craft to offer technical help, and can supply digital schematics to anyone who needs them. He'll also insist on a flight test for anyone planning on regular operation. For the more talented recruits, the planet's gravity wells and floating obstacles offer a challenge in flight and weapons both, and it's one Rinzler isn't opposed to making a competition.
While most of the program's focus is on the new assignees, anyone else stopping by is welcome to get his attention—for training attempts or otherwise. Rinzler doesn't particularly approve of the Moira's policy of letting anyone operate the crafts, but he's pragmatic enough to know that it's less hazardous if the users at least know what they're doing.
Mero hallway (Closed to Kylo Ren)
After last month, Rinzler knew better than to argue his 'buddy' assignment—no need to give the trojan another chance to score points off him. All the same, it was a little odd to get the message from Frisk instead. The enforcer shelved the misplaced variable for later query, messaging his assignee over the MID and waiting for response.
It seemed to be taking a while.
By the time Rinzler resigned himself to actually tracking down Kylo_Ren, he was already irritated at the necessity. When his location ping returned Mero Deck, the annoyance worsened. While Rinzler wouldn't strictly admit to avoiding the area (or the duplicate that lived there), he had been leaving it somewhat conspicuously out of his patrol routes since his release from the hold.
So when he followed the signal and found himself outside Tron's room...
...well, that ticking rumble is definitely pitched a little closer to a growl by the time Rinzler keys the door chime. When (or if) Kylo opens it, he'll find an identical copy of his roommate. But where Tron stands tall and at least looks to have a human face, the figure outside is drawn into a coiled hunch, nothing but the rattling sound and a slight tilt of his dark mask to give away emotion. Currently? Not happy.
When: second week of March
Where: around the ship, planetside, and everything between
What: buddy meetups, transporter training, and general Rinzlering
Warnings: nothing awful planned; will update if needed.
Library (Open):
Between Inugami and the Moira, Rinzler's spent almost half a cycle in the user world by now. Enough to familiarize himself with plenty of the basics... and not nearly enough to comprehend every reference the users took for granted. Fortunately? There's a file archive on board. Even if the users running it seem to have a bizarre preference for analog.
The library's more common occupants might be accustomed to the sound, but anyone looking for peace and quiet today might want to be careful which shelves they frequent. There's a noise echoing through the wooden floors, a ticking whir that starts around the card catalog before eventually localizing to a reference room upstairs. It sounds like broken hardware. (Or possibly an overly friendly cat.) Anyone who tracks the disruption down will find Rinzler: lurking, glowing, and rumbling ominously as he pages through a nature guide on sharks.
Abort/retry/question?
Ceta rock formations (Open):
The collection of badly-written buildings holds little interest for the enforcer, and the chance to submerge himself in fish guts is not an incentive to go hunt. Still, there's one area of the planet everyone else seems to be discounting, and that makes it worth visiting—for the solitude, if nothing else.
Anyone watching the clouds might notice a streak of orange disappearing downward as Rinzler's lightjet slips past the temporaries toward the denser rock formations lurking below. It takes a little effort, and some strange gravity currents to work around, but it's not long before he's landed himself on one of the jagged peaks. It reminds him of the outlands, more than a little: rough, uncoded, somewhere only the most desperate creatures would go to ground.
Worth seeing what a search turns up.
Cargo Bay/Outside: ~Training Montage~ (Semi-Open)
As partial as Rinzler might be to his own flightcraft, the vehicles he's actually assigned to work with here are in heavy demand on the gas-based planet. Fortunately, he's no longer the only operator. When he'd submitted a report on the transporter concerns, Rinzler had been half-expecting to be wiped for the presumption. Instead, the administrators had assigned a full hex of new pilots and technicians to cover the gap. If this system is still vastly (and worryingly) less efficient than Clu's... Rinzler's beginning to mind some of the other differences less.
He's been tasked with providing tutorial, and over the next week, the program will be meeting with all of the new transporter crew individually. Flight is more his specialty than the minutia of repair, but he's grown familiar enough with the workings of the craft to offer technical help, and can supply digital schematics to anyone who needs them. He'll also insist on a flight test for anyone planning on regular operation. For the more talented recruits, the planet's gravity wells and floating obstacles offer a challenge in flight and weapons both, and it's one Rinzler isn't opposed to making a competition.
While most of the program's focus is on the new assignees, anyone else stopping by is welcome to get his attention—for training attempts or otherwise. Rinzler doesn't particularly approve of the Moira's policy of letting anyone operate the crafts, but he's pragmatic enough to know that it's less hazardous if the users at least know what they're doing.
Mero hallway (Closed to Kylo Ren)
After last month, Rinzler knew better than to argue his 'buddy' assignment—no need to give the trojan another chance to score points off him. All the same, it was a little odd to get the message from Frisk instead. The enforcer shelved the misplaced variable for later query, messaging his assignee over the MID and waiting for response.
It seemed to be taking a while.
By the time Rinzler resigned himself to actually tracking down Kylo_Ren, he was already irritated at the necessity. When his location ping returned Mero Deck, the annoyance worsened. While Rinzler wouldn't strictly admit to avoiding the area (or the duplicate that lived there), he had been leaving it somewhat conspicuously out of his patrol routes since his release from the hold.
So when he followed the signal and found himself outside Tron's room...
...well, that ticking rumble is definitely pitched a little closer to a growl by the time Rinzler keys the door chime. When (or if) Kylo opens it, he'll find an identical copy of his roommate. But where Tron stands tall and at least looks to have a human face, the figure outside is drawn into a coiled hunch, nothing but the rattling sound and a slight tilt of his dark mask to give away emotion. Currently? Not happy.
no subject
He can completely, calmly ignore that snort, because that was definitely at his expense-- not the first droid he's known with an attitude, and in fairness anyone who throws out as much sass as Han has to expect some of it to get bounced back-- because he'd much rather focus on the task at hand. Halfway for its own merits, halfway to get Rinzler off his back and let him get to work.
The steering and throttle is a little more apparent, so after he takes a long moment to look over the various displays and settings (and give it a bit to warm up; this isn't his ship, after all, he's got to take that into account) before jumping in with both feet, slow and gentle on the off chance that his guesses are all wrong. Luckily his instincts are pretty good, just a little wobbly.
"I'm guessing these can't handle anything but sub-light speed..."
It'd make sense for their purpose, after all. He's mainly talking to himself since Rinzler doesn't seem to be the chatty sort.
no subject
The question gets a nod—invisible behind the chair. Rinzler doubts the user needs a real answer, but after a moment, he reaches for his MID anyway. Better to set up communications now than during an actual emergency. One quick hack (and a briefly flashing status icon on Han's control panel) later, and a line of text appears across one of the transporter's display screens.
Confirmed.
no subject
Slowly but surely he eases on, getting a feel for how responsive the controls are. Once they're clear of the Moira he's going to see exactly what he can get out of this little thing, but crashing the transporter into the big ship seems like it'd be the wrong way to start off. Absently he flicks some switch, which sets some alarm or other ringing, so he turns it off again. Give him a week and he'll know this thing inside out (and be trying to tweak the engines to get more power, probably).
"Easy."
Piece of flatcake. All the readings he recognizes looks good, and nothing is flashing or beeping in a worrisome way, so probably he's okay.
"So what do you wanna see?"
no subject
Still, probably best to stick to the basics for the moment. The next thing to display on the console is a set of planetary coordinates: the airspace just above one of the floating pockets of rock. Rinzler's opting to stay clear of the too-flammable temporaries until navigational competency is assured, but there shouldn't be much to damage between their location and the coordinates. Even if the gravity pockets might make for an interesting trip.
Land, shutdown, restart, take off.
no subject
"You got it."
He doesn't make a beeline for the indicated spot, though; clear of the large ship he takes a minute to orient himself while there's nothing in the way, executing a few idle turns and swoops to get a better feel for the vehicle. It's no Falcon, but at least it can move. (Even the best hyperdrive money can buy wouldn't be enough to get them home, so really, it's not that much of a loss.)
Once he feels like he's got a handle on things he brings it around and heads planetward, coming in a little faster than he ought to out of habit. He slows as they come closer, not enough to avoid the first hard pocket of turbulence, shaking the ship and causing Han to pull back up, guiding the ship in a wide, slower arc back around toward the coordinates Rinzler specified.
When he does bring it in for a landing, though, it's slow and gentle, maybe surprisingly so considering how reckless he can be in the air.
no subject
There's no complaint, though—or perhaps more accurately, no acknowledgement at his own moment of ruffled dignity. If Han glances back, he'll find Rinzler watching out the window as they come in to land. The coordinates lead to a small plateau, ground rough and angled, if not too steeply so. There's no need for further course correction, so the program doesn't bother. Still, Han will see a line of text popping up on his screen.
Previous experience?
no subject
Once they're settled securely on this bit of rock, he does turn to answer the question.
"I fly a freighter back home. Hauling contraband, mostly." The admission that he's a smuggler doesn't make much difference here, with no Imperial law to be breaking, and he mentions it only because of the skill set it implies. That he's quick, that he's good at evading patrols, making risky jumps. At least that's what's implied in his mind. Who knows if the droid-or-whatever gets what he means.
"Fastest ship in the galaxy."
no subject
User systems seem to function differently, though... and galaxy is a large unit by their standards. The faceless mask tips in open skepticism.
Your design?
no subject
And even then, he'd bet on the Falcon. As long as she's in working order.
He flashes a quick grin, and lifts off again, managing the atmosphere much more smoothly now that he knows what to expect.
no subject
Repair assessment: added to tasklist.
Don't mind the smug emanating from just behind you, Han. The user might not be assigned to technician duty, but with two out of three of the new crew inexperienced with spacecraft, Rinzler's planning to make use of all the experience he can. And all the upgrades.
Still, that can come later. This assessment is for piloting ability... and with basic competency no longer under question, the program has a new kind of test in mind. No new instructions appear on the console, but Han might notice the whirring rumble quiet and grow distant as Rinzler slips down that ladder and further back inside the ship.
no subject
"Lucky me," he says easily, though he doesn't glance back until he becomes aware of the change in sound. Well, he can't be doing too badly if Rinzler is wandering off.
"What next?" he calls out, loud enough to hopefully be heard down below.
no subject
Compartment breach; pressure dropping—
The ship lurches in time with the warnings, and if the piloting compartment is further removed, Han will still feel a gust of wind from suction further back in the small ship. Warning lights are flashing on the console, and if he can cope with the sudden jolt, Han might recognize one in particular... or rather, the small, unassuming switch the light is next to.
The loading ramp is open. Someone just overrode the safeties. And if the sudden absence of his watcher isn't hint enough, the red-orange jet that zooms past Han's window out of nowhere? Probably gives away who.
A MID message pings into the console. What's next, the user asks?
Keep up.
no subject
But it's not until the jet streaks by that he gets exactly what happened, preoccupied with getting the ramp shut and his balance back. Where the hell did he have that thing stowed?
Well, he asked. Grinning, Han pulls the transporter up to follow Rinzler's path. Time to see what one of these can do.
no subject
That in mind, the program doesn't even bother. A test of speed or force in a machine is worthless, and certainly no valid challenge of one's skill. No, this contest? Is one of maneuverability.
The lightjet banks left in a tight curve, nearly doubling back on its own path—and making sure to skim past the transporter's viewing window. Rinzler keeps the craft at a steep angle, wingtips almost vertically aligned, camoflauging the slight dip as he darts through a trio of gravity distortions. One, two, three and he untwists, swooping up to widen the gap if the heavier craft falters.
no subject
After that he guns it, squaring his shoulders and gritting his teeth through the third, aiming to make up the distance Rinzler has gained on him.