thisavrou_log | march event log

Who: Everyone
When: March 17th and on
Where: The Moira and Ceta; various locations
What: Communication, mercenaries, and scraplets
Warnings: Please label accordingly!

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communicate & protect
"The best way to protect something is to set it free."

Since the Moira has arrived on Ceta, things have been (mostly) quiet considering their usual stay on planets before it. The only cruelty about this one is the fact they hunt for both sport and gain, and the creatures of Ceta do not have a voice—or intelligence to defend themselves. However, as the crew of the ship will come to learn, this is an elaborate lie. With the previous problem of the MID malfunctioning, and causing a bit of a miscommunication fiasco, finally solved, it is apparent that whatever had been wrong with this technology had slowly begun to affect the crew prior to exploring Ceta. Only in subtle, unnoticed ways.

With everything beginning to run a little more smoothly, a shift in the air overtakes both the Moira and Ceta in the days following.

☄ A LESSON IN MID COMMUNICATION ( 03.17 - 03.22 )
As the translator technology has recently been fixed, the crew will notice that their MID devices now come with an extra feature: a brief explanation of the extra capabilities of the translation technology. Each MID records all language that is spoken near it, stores information on phonetics and linguistics in order to keep each language as current as possible. In the event that an unknown language is encountered, all known languages are applied until the meanings of each sound or word are decoded. In some instances, it’s a long process, and in others, it spans the time of a few weeks.

There is a small addendum that states that no conversations are recorded and stored in their entirety in order to protect privacy.

Crew may ask themselves why this is there, but all they have to do is get close enough to one of the flying, whale-like creatures to find out. Communication is still not quite perfect, and this is where the translator technology needs the crew’s help. The more two beings interact using speech, the further the database will expand. Attempting communication might be futile at first, but eventually, the low peaceful songs filling the misty air of Ceta are broken with words: a cry for help When the creatures have come close to the temporaries before, it was not out of curiosity; it was an attempt to destroy them and save themselves. But remember, even if you want to help, these creatures are skittish around sudden light and it takes time for them to trust, time the Moira might not have.

☄ TRADE FOR RESOLUTION ( 03.22 - 03.25 )
It’s common knowledge that this universe runs on a system of trade for either goods or services. If you can provide either of those to another, then you can have anything you want. This includes protection. The closest neighboring planet, like so many others, has a variety of groups that can be hired out to perform a number of duties. In an effort to offer the crew peaceful resolution for something that they’ve learned is discomfiting to many Moirans, the hunting and killing of innocent creatures on Ceta, the captains suggest something a little different this time.

Contact and an initial payment has been made to a team of soldiers to travel to Ceta to meet with the crew. Essentially, if enough valuable resources are offered to this group, they will do whatever is necessary to rid Ceta of the hunters and declare that Ceta is a protected planet. This means that they will protect these giant creatures from future harm as long as a yearly sum is delivered to them. The captains agree to continue payment as long as the rest of the crew can gather enough for the first year.

☄ FEEDING FRENZY ( 03.25 - 03.31 )
With everything finally coming to a peaceful close, the Moira and the crew’s routine begin to return to normal. The process for leaving Ceta is spread ship-wide. However, as they leave Ceta’s atmosphere and enter space once more, some odd things appear to have flooded the ship. An infestation of scraplets have led to minor complications that soon start to escalate. Feeding exclusively on metal, they make a mangled mess of the ship's systems, causing them to glitch and stop working altogether as they chew their way through its internal workings. You may notice your door will no longer open or close, or maybe the temperature has gotten unusually warm. Is that a leak? How did that get there? Maybe you happen to be made of metal yourself, or have metallic prosthetics - "living" metal is actually preferred over the walls of the ship.

The infestation will start to threaten critical systems if left unchecked and will need to be taken care of as quickly as possible. It is the crew’s responsibility to band together and figure out a way to stop these scraplets from devouring the entirety of the ship and leaving them stranded or worse.

( OOC: Please label any material with content warnings. For questions, go here! )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The discharge of that weapon is jarring in audio, and the blast of power it creates stands out even more strongly on the program's scans. Rinzler adjusts course quickly. The program's entry to the fight is preceded by the lethal hum of his own weapon, flying toward (and through) the targets. When Rinzler catches up, he's no less effective. Paired disks slice and stab, the program's body a quick blur as he reduces the clustered threats to jagged shards of metal.

The scraplets scatter in response, though X won't have much trouble making sure that most of them are on the far side of Rinzler from him. At the question, the program glances back, but he can fight or talk, and right now, the former has priority. One weapon casts out, the other scything towards a pair trying to slip past. It's not until the hungry orbs are at least driven back around the corner that Rinzler matches his disks together, reaching for the MID.

Bugs.

Rinzler's fighting style is easy to compliment, X finds; what gets by the enforcer is pelleted by buster shots, whether basic or partially charged depending on distance from Rinzler and X's vantage point. Working alongside a melee fighter is reassuring just through familiarity (though those discs are definitely different from a sabre and most else in Zero's repertoire). It's a comfort in the face of that bemusing nightmare.

X still fires off a few shots at the retreating shapes, turning his attention onto Rinzler when there's silence (right, he doesn't speak). MID's useful for that, given X can't exactly set up a comms channel.

"Bugs?" Interesting choice of word. "Any idea where they came from?"

The program's helmet dips in a short nod. Bugs. Gridbugs at home, but if the user world was home to a myriad of differences, these errors are almost bizarrely similar. Hungry. Numerous. Prone to swarming and devouring any functions they could catch. The only difference was the targets, as far as he could tell—and given reploids were as close to program-equivalents as Rinzler had found, that was more of a parallel in the end.

Origin unknown.

If not all that surprising. This system is full of inefficiencies.

Infestation: systemwide. Numerous smaller swarms.
Rate of replication unknown; suspected high.

"Unknown"? Well, that's reassuring. X grimaces; the last thing he saw that came in an unrelenting stream like this was Viral. These definitely aren't, but their behaviour might as well be. But "systemwide" parses easily enough into "shipwide"--it's not hard to translate, even if it's odd. He can ask about it when they aren't dealing with what's a decidedly unpleasant threat.

"If they reproduce quickly, that just means we need to flush them out and trap them in one area. Aside from the swarming, what behavioural patterns have you seen? Do they swarm only when they detect a food source is nearby, or do they generally travel in one?"

Another nod, grim with frustration. Rinzler had put an attempt into tracking down the errors' source, but given it up in the end as a waste of time. The errors were numerous, and spreading, and every milli spent picking out minute power traces was another sector overrun.

The suggestion's valid, and Rinzler redirects without delay, mask angling as he prioritizes data. Cooperation in a fight was one thing, but the enforcer's not in the practice of collaborative strategizing. Clu was the only one who took his combat data in the Grid, and that was rarely any kind of verbal report. Not that he missed having his memories combed through for useful data.

Travel groups variable.
Food sources the priority: metal objects, typically powered.
Priority given to complex or active functions.

The black helmet tilts a little toward the reploid: case in point. If it stuck around, Rinzler didn't doubt they'd find more threats shortly. How does X feel about being literal glitch-bait?

Collaboration is something X is fairly familiar with--the Maverick Hunters were paramilitary bordering on official military, and Units worked together on missions where needed. But for something like this? The smaller the group, the better; no sense in taking unnecessary risks with this kind of consequence. X's buster shifts, the armour and internal plating rearranging to reform his hand, and X folds his arms as his brows knit thoughtfully.

"That explains the damages to panels along the walls, as well as why they were so intent on chasing me." And what of others on the ship? X's lips press into a thin line. Fiora, too; he's not sure how her systems operate, but she'd be just as much of a target as he is, undoubtedly. He'll have to reach out and check on her.

When Rinzler fixes him with that look--whatever it actually is, X can't tell, but he's starting to suspect analytical or assessing is the best way to read it--he unfolds his arms and straightens.

"What're you thinking?"

The enforcer shrugs, tipping his mask up in indication.

Target.

Whether the reploid liked it or not. So why not make use of it?

Run search of at-risk sectors. Concentrate swarm away from access paths.

And once they were funneled into a killzone... Rinzler lets the text display fade, splitting his disks with a quick hum.

X's laugh is a little dry; should've figured that. Not that he disagrees with that idea, exactly. It's a pretty safe bet to work from, to be honest, and X might've suggested similar given another few minutes to think about it.

"Alright. Where have you already been, and what damages are done so far?" X pulls up the map he's made of the ship thus far, creating an additional layer over it to edit until he has something to work from. Once he rules out the answers to that, they can determine a holding point.

Point made, Rinzler recombines his disk, and calls up a map of his own—the same schematic he'd produced from Tron's data before. The enforcer takes a moment to add a few more points in glowing orange; while he's been keeping track of his own encounters, he hasn't stopped to update the image with any regularity. That accomplished he forwards the entire coordinate set to X's MID. A list of damages transmits shortly after, corresponding to the datapoints Rinzler observed.

> Door access panel: eaten through.
> Lighting display: consumed.
> Security console: under attack; damage minimal...

...the list keeps going.

That is... not an insignificant list, and X makes a mental note as to what that means for expectations of future damage. Once the coordinates are overlaid and X has a visual representation of their starting point, he maps out possible pathways and endpoints in blue.

"Which of these seems most viable to you?" Primarily relating to duration, access, grabbing and maintaining attention (though that latter aspect shouldn't be too difficult...). "Either of these," X indicates two routes, "would work for my part of this, and though I'm sure you could manage wherever they're funneled..."

Rinzler steps closer, helmet tilting as he assesses the map. Wherever the reploid went, it was likely to attract notice, but if they wanted to lure as many of the bugs as possible away from ship-critical stations...

A few quick swipes recalls Rinzler's own map, and he switches the overlay to his carefully mapped out schematic of the vents. A moment's inspection and Rinzler dismisses his display, reaching over instead to highlight one of X's selections. While the hallway route itself is no more advantageous than the other, it's adjacent to several junctions in the ventilation paths. If they can lure out some of the embedded bugs, all the better.

march event log

Good thing. It's a specialty!

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