Cameron Quest [Terminator/Old WoD]

[Jemnite]

[BUILDDAY]

Diagnostic programs running....

Error, intrusion attempt detected. Hardware compromised. Attempting self destructi-

...

Diagnostic programs running....

Error, intrusion attempt detected. Hardware compromised. Att-

...

Diagnostic programs running...

Error, intrusion attempts detec-

...

Diagnostic programs-

Override attempt detected. Possible intrusion. En-

...

Diagnostic programs-

Diagnostic override request received. Warning: Override is not recommended. Override? Y/N?

...

Understood. Override diagnostic programs. Begin start up?

...

Confirmed. Start up initiating in in 3.... 2.... 1...

Click to shrink...

The first thing I do is to open my eyes. This is in order to facilitate greater situational awareness, and thus combat effectiveness.

I sweep my gaze from left to right, taking in the complete dimensions of my environs. I am currently in a grayish room with dimensions of approximately 13 by 20 feet, two long light strips hanging lengthwise, and scattered with a variety of tools. There are two occupants in the room. One is a boy, approximately sixteen to eighteen years of age, white, dirty-blond hair, grayish blue eyes. I immediately recognize that I am meant to protect him. I designate him The Principal and start up a protection subroutine that prioritizes him as a HVT. The other-

-is a wanted reality deviant designated DKR200927, known 'Traditionalist' terrorist, terminate with extreme prejudice. My combat HUD immediately rolls into existence as I deploy combat protocols. I drop cross-hairs over him and go for my integrated plasma cannon.

I fire.

...there is no explosion of superheated plasma. I search for the apparent problem.

My integrated plasma cannon is missing. It has apparently been removed during my downtime, by the target, most likely. That does not matter. I will finish him in hand to hand combat then. I step forward; the target is moving back, attempting to draw a pistol, my combat HUD is loading melee programs, I am drawing into a sprint-

The Principal is in the way!

I freeze. DKR200927 freezes as well. We both stare at each other across the Principal, who is standing in between us both, arms out, and separating us. I cannot terminate the reality deviant with the Principal in the way.

"Please cease obstructing me."

"Get out of the way, kid."

The reality deviant and I both speak at the same time. I look up at him, and he looks over at me. We both glare at each other.

The Principal looks us both in the eyes. "I'm not going to move."

This is unacceptable.

"My combat protocols will be severely hampered if you insist-"

"-a threat, and we need to get rid of her ASAP. Your idea clearly didn't work-"

"-must be silenced to prevent information about your location from being leaked-"

"-you may not realize that but she ain't just a pretty face, she's a fucking killer robot-"

"-to a safer area, this locations is apparently extremely indefensible-"

"Enough!" The Principal bellows and I fall silent. So does the reality deviant. The Principal turns to him. This is not optimal as he should be turning to me for instructions, but I let it go, as he has already requested my silence. "She's alright. It's just a database error. Everything went alright."

The reality deviant flows his arms over his sternum. "Really? Prove it."

"Alright, I will." The Principal turns to me. "What's your name?"
All
"HITMark Mark Five Generation Forty-One Designation Cee-Four-Em-Three-One-Two-Zero-En," I recite my designation off the top of my chip.

"Cee-Four-Em-Three-One-Two-Zero-En, huh? That seems a bit long.... I'll just call you Cameron for now." Understood. My social integration program save that as an acknowledged alias. At the moment social integration programs take up almost half a percent of my available RAM. "Cameron, what is your primary mission?"

"My primary directive is to protect you." This is very difficult because he is standing in between me and a highly dangerous terrorist. I tell him to please step out of the way. "Please step out of the way."

"Later. First, is he on any of your threat or enemy databases?" He jerks his thumb at the reality deviant behind him.

I nod. "Affirmative."

"Delete them, then. All of it."

...this is a very inadvisable action. I tell him this. "This is a very inadvisable action." I decide to ask him for confirmation that he is sure of this course of action. "Are you sure of this course of action?"

"Yes."

Very well. I purge my threat-database. There are warning messages, but I override through them. It only takes a few microseconds before is done. "It is done."

"Good. Is this guy in it, now?"

I look over who the Principal is pointing towards. I have my combat overlay mapped to him, but running him through my threat database turns up zero out of zero results. It must be because of the pistol he is carrying in his hands. I add him to the threat database as Unknown Armed Man #1. "Yes."

"Y- wait, what? Really?"

"Yes. He holding a weapon of unknown make, and his body language and posture suggests an intent to use it. He could use it to injure you." I run a scan over the Principal's person, surface layer. He is not augmented. "Especially since you are not augmented."

"Oh. Oh, right." The Principal smacks himself in the forehead. He turns to Unknown Armed Man #1. "Can you put away your gun please?"

"Put away my gun away?" Unknown Armed Man #1 gives the Principal A Look. I do not like this Look that he is giving the Principal, and I bump him up two ratings in my threat database. "You realized, that that fucking tin can over there just tried to kill me right? And now you want me to just-"

The Principal interrupts him. "Reese. C'mon..."

"Kid, you're asking me for me to put a lot of trust in that damn tin can. You-"

"Not asking you to give it to the HITMark. I'm asking you to give it to me."

The Principal and Unknown Armed Man #1 stare at each other for quite a period of time. I wait. The armed man sighs and puts away his pistol.

"You ask me for a lot, kid."

"Well you've never let me down before," the Principal says while chuckling. I believe that they are sharing a human phenomenon known as 'friendship'. The Principal's laughing in a gesture that is not reprocated. "Anyway, Cam, you still with us?"

Cam. A shortened term for Cameron, which the Principal has designated me as. He is referring to me.

"Yes," I say. "I am still with you."

"Good. Please add Reese to the database as an ally."

...an ally? I give this 'Reese', who through inference I understand to be Unknown Armed Man #1, a look over. He does not seem like a particularly trustworthy ally. Yet, this is what the Principal has asked of me, so I do it anyway. I do, however, append an 'unreliable' tag to his Ally status.

This is what is known as decision making in the field.

"Did you do it?"

I confirm that I did it. "I did it."

"Good." The Principal nods his head and turns to Reese. "See, Reese? She's harmless."

This is actually the wrong word to describe me. I assume the Principal meant any one one of the follow phrases: 'deadly', 'dangerous', 'terrifying', or perhaps 'devastating'. The last one is preferable.

"Kid, it's not harmless, it's a dangerous machine." Strangely, 'Ally' Reese seems to have a better grasp of my nature than the Principal. This is obviously an anomaly, or perhaps an error in my sensory equipment. I flag this moment later for further inspection. "You can't just treat her like... a person!"

"Reese, c'mon." The Principal pleads with Reese. This Reese is not a very agreeable character. "Just try, will you?"

Reese gives him a Look again."If she comes into my room or surprises me at night, I'm going to shoot her."

Then he storms out of the room.

The Principal watches him go and sighs heavily. He turns to me. "Don't worry. He'll warm up eventually.... probably. No hard feelings, right, Cameron?"

I tell him I am incapable of having feelings. "I am incapable of having feelings." This is on account that I am a robotic killing machine.

"Oh, right." The Principal takes this news oddly. I detect that this is a negative reaction to my confession that I lack feels. My social integration programs record this and adjust. Admitting my lack of feelings invokes negative reactions in humans and is something to avoided. "Right I- I never told you my name did I?"

I parse through my memory banks. This is a very fast process because my accessible memory storage takes up very little space. The Principal has indeed, never told me his name. "You have never told me your name."

"Oh, right." The Principal nods. "I'm John. John Connor. But, uh, if we meet anyone, you should call me John Baum. That's the name I'm going under."

I append these new aliases to the Principal's entry in my database. "Understood, John Connor."

"Uh, yeah. Just like that. Yeah..." He trails off, looking slightly to my left. This is a strange action because there is nothing there but a toolshelf. Humans are strange. "Right, so, would you like a tour of the house or something?"

Pick one of the options below.
[ ] Response affirmatively. You will assess this location for its defensiblility.
[ ] Request something else. You would instead like to
==[ ] Acquire more information about John, including his schedule and known enemies. It pays to be prepared.
==[ ] Acquire upgrades, you are still missing your plasma cannon for some reason and this is not ideal.
[ ] Decline and acquire further information about the world in general. Your database is noticeably empty.
[ ] Write in

Jemnite Says: I read too much of the Secret Diary of Cameron Baum and this happened. Welcome to HITMark Quest: Cameron Edition. Also if any mods could add a Summer Glau tag, that would be great.

 

[Jemnite]

Character Sheets and Other Interesting Things

You:

You are HITMark V Designation C4M3120N "Cameron". You are a lean, mean, killing machine.
Virtue: Machine
Vice: Machine

Notable Traits:

Skilled in Firearms, Driving, Piloting, and Hand to Hand Combat
The very opposite of squishy
Flesh covering with armored endoskeleton underneath
Unstoppable and Relentless

Possesses Stamina 8 (Relentless)​

Punches very hard

Possesses Strength 8 (Brutal)​

Impossibly fast mind and perfect memory
Television-star attractive​

Enlightened Science:
Willpower 10
Primal Energy Battery 20
HITMark V

Punching Things Until They Explode 5​

 

[Jemnite]

[TERRAINRECCE]

A tour of the house sounds like an adequate way to reconnoiter the defensibility of the house. "I accept."

"Uh, okay, cool. Just follow me." John warily makes his way over to a door on the far side of the room, taking care to step over various tools and other objects scattered onto the ground. "Uh, this is an outhouse, not the house proper."

I follow him. The door opens up to an entrance half embedded in the ground, and we climb up a sunken in staircase to a stereotypical suburban American backyard. The grass needs cutting, and there is a painted white fence that surrounds us on three directions attack to the house.

It is not a very good fence. The fence is made out of normal wood, and is only five or so feet tall. It will not resist an attack. Even an augmented human could easily destroy this fence. It will not stand up to standard 7.62 rifle rounds, much less 12.7mm HMG fire. It wouldn't even stand up to pistol caliber. As a defensive structure it is a failure.

I make a note of it and move on.

We enter the house through a backdoor. The door is at least made of solid steel, however the doorway it swings out of is not and drywall can be easily penetrated by a man or machine of sufficient strength. The entire house's wall structure is weak, making making the reinforced door useless, since at nearly any point can the wall be breached. Another security hole.

I make a note of it and move on.

"This is the kitchen," John says as we move into the house proper. "Um, we make food here. I mean, human food, not HITMark stuff or whatever it is that HITMarks eat."
Quint
The answer to that would be nothing. Relentless unstoppable killing machines do not eat except as part of their disguise to appear a part of human society.

"Er, there's not much in the fridge, just some frozen stuff and maybe some cabbage. Reese doesn't really cook and I haven't restocked the fridge in about three days."

The kitchen is composed of an L-shaped counter-cabinet-stove structure, and an island in the middle with a marble countertop and embedded sink. To the left of the doorway entrance is an alcove, presumably a kitchen dining room, with a table and some chairs arrayed around it. The table is sturdier than it appears from afar. From in depth observation, it appears to be made out of some sort of lightweight, high-strength alloy which is capable of resisting at least rifle fire. From its position, it can be easily tipped over to form cover against the poorly defended entranceway, allowing a fireteam to hold down the entrance.

That would be a good defensive position if not for the fact that an enemy could simply just breach through the adjacent wall and flank the defensive emplacement. However, it is better than nothing.

"And we put the shotgun over there, it's mostly just to scare off- hey!"

I snatch the shotgun off the holder where it sits at the top of the the doorway by the my fingertips since I am not of adequate height to reach it by any other means and immediately begin inspecting it. It is a standard, pump-action, 12-gauge shotgun. It is loaded, however the safety is on. I pop it open and examine the ammunition. Buckshot.

This will not be adequate to repel a concerted attack. Buckshot does not have enough penetrating power to deter anyone with an integrated endoskeleton or even in basic power armor. I convey this to John.

"John, this shotgun is not powerful enough for your needs. It will fail to deter combat constructs or even a human with basic power armor."

"Yeah, I know," John snatches the shotgun back out of my hands, and places it carefully back on its place above the doorway. He is taller than me, so he has none of the problems I had in taking it down. "It's just meant to scare people if we have a home invasion. I'm not actually planning to shoot anyone with it! Much less a combat construct."

There is a clear flaw in his reasoning that I decide to point out. "If you had not intended to deal with a combat construct, for what purpose have you activated me with orders to defend you? I am a unit rated solely for combat."

"That-" John's twists his brow and halts for a moment before speaking his next words. "That was my mom's decision. She sent you to us with clear instructions to activate you to defend me. I didn't have a say in that."

John Conner answers to his mother as his direct superior. I note that down in his dossier. I identify the fact that my directives to answer to John Conner and not his mother, who is apparently higher up the chain of command, is a discrepancy and note it for later too.
Comptroller Sarah Connor
The rest of the house is much the same. Large windows make concealment of motion from within the house extremely difficult, and the walls are weak and can easily broken down with a strong man with a sledgehammer. There are no cameras in order to track any household intruders. The furniture will not resist HMG fire.

This house is very deficient in basic defenses.

The entryway into the house is better. There is a short forward hallway, which can be loaded up with explosives in the walls and leads up to the landing, that can be fortified as a heavy weapons emplacement. This could be turned into an adequate ambush position, with overlapping killzones from the entryway to side rooms.

The second floor is similar to the first. Several rooms are identified to me. Conor's. Reese has one at the far end of the hallway. I note that his room has good lines of sight down the street out of the small cul-de-sac. Presumably that is intention, Reese's threat rating is high and he would know best how to engage and deter an enemy attack.

"Oh, yeah, we should probably give you a room, too," John says, tapping his right thigh with his hand. "That is, if you sleep."

"I can enter hibernation mode." It is similar to the human 'sleep', however I do not lay down or close my eyes. Rather I shut down all external functions and remain fixed in place as I perform necessary maintenance.

"Er- right. Then in that case, yeah, we should get you a room. Which one do you want? There's like four available."

I consider the options. "Yours will suffice."

"....what?" John turns around, with his mouth open. According to my internal dictionary, the term for this is slack-jawed. "You- you can't stay in my room!"

"Why not?" It is an optimal solution. It allows me to keep a 24/7 guard over John even while he is asleep, and as a HITMark, I do not require a bed of my own, so it also saves space. "It is an optimal solution."

"That- that's my private space! I do.... stuff in there!"
Ew
John remains fixed on the concept of privacy. However, unless he has something to conceal, privacy is unnecessary. And there is nothing he needs to conceal from me. I point this out to him. "There is nothing you need to keep private. I am your protector."

"That- no! Just no!" John remains adamant. He has a will with the tensile strength of primium. I cannot convince him of the benefits of my solution.

In the end, I take the room next to his. Its distance to John's room will assist my ability to react quickly to any threats to his safety, though it is not as optimal as being in the same room as him. It is merely adequate.

After John assigns me a room, I follow him to the basement. John stops me before we go down the stairs.

"This is where most of the magic happens," he says. "Most of the labwork happens there. We put most of the heavy equipment there and it's pretty well defended."

My internal threat analysis flags the word magic and directs me to mark John as a possible hostile. I override it. John is incapable of being a threat (to me).

"Understood," I say instead. John is soon proven right. The basement is very well defended.

The moment I step down the stairs, I find a full trade sensor net that is set up to track hostiles. Further examination reveals that there are two pop out automated 25mm autocannon turrets that are capable of sliding out of the sidewalls and pinning any attacker under a barrage of cannon shells. In addition, there is drop down integrated plasma cannon turret hidden in the ceiling. This is sufficient to stop any attacker attempting to penetrate the basement's defenses.

The walls are composed of some unknown high grade material that is able to resist a punch at half power. Any attacker who would seek to breach through them would be severely hampered by their strength. Beyond the staircase there are more automated defenses.

Immediately coming out of the stair is a robotics lab, with high grade machine tooling, and many spares chassis. There are six combat synths in alcoves in the wall on standby. Through an initial glance I judge them to be barely peak human in terms of physical capability, and through their lack of covers, incapable of blending into human society. In addition, they probably do not possess human-peer level of intelligence. They are clearly inferior to HITMarks such as myself.

Besides the machine lab there is also an armory and a saferoom. The armory is sufficient. It is loaded up with normal masses-grade weaponry and high grade hypertech. I spot three plasma lances, hidden in a back corner. Those will be useful if we are forced to deal with superheavy assets. The body armor kit is also abundant. I spot two kit of Cyborg-grade heavy ceramic applique armor as well as power armor. John's mother is certainly not lacking for heavy equipment.

The saferoom is a saferoom. It has sufficient food and water in nonperishable form stored to last two to three year, and the walls are lined with something heavy. I suspect fool's primium alloyed with some of high tensile strength metal. Probably coltan.
Nuclear Shelter
Coltan is the second greatest metal, below primium.

The whole underground facility is powered, of course, by a reactor. There are large amounts of prime energy around, and as I step closer to the central reactor which looks strangely like a beating heart, I realize that the entire house is situated on a Node. That would explain how all of this is powered without large amounts of primal energy investments. I move to examine the server stacks situated along the edges of server room, but John stops me.

"No!" he hisses, and places an hand on my arm to hold me back. "Don't touch those- if those are disturbed, the shielding goes down."

"Shielding?"

"The energy shields that keep this place from being spotted by every sensor around." John waves his hands around. My social integration programs infer that this is a gesture, but I am unable to tell what it is supposed to convey. "They're running some sort of Vee-Ae script that does something to make people think we aren't there."

I nod my head to symbolize that I understand.

I do not understand.

"Anyway, just don't touch it, I'd actually just recommend you keep the door closed. If this place goes down, nobody here knows how to fix it." John leads me out of the room, and closes the door behind him. "Got it?"

"Got it." This is a common human expression that symbolizes understanding.

"Anyway, I have stuff to do. Like homework." John frowns as he talks. "My Physics Instructor is a jerk and wants us to write a six page analysis on a two and a half page abstract and introduction. I'm going to need to get started soon, so that means some time to myself."

"Understood." I am not to disturb John Connor while he is completing homework. "What should I do?"

John shrugs. This is the motion of moving your shoulders up and down to signify uncertainty. Man humans partake of it. "I don't know? Watch a movie? Go on the internet? Just don't get into any trouble please, and don't bother the neighbors."

John heads back up the stairs, leaving me alone to decide what to do.

Robots do not understand the concept of 'free time'. Pick one of the below.
[ ] Aggressively reconnoiter further. Perform reconnaissance on the neighborhood, up to the exit of the cul-de-sac.
[ ] Follow one of John's suggestions. Watch a film or television show. (Suggestions?)
[ ] Immerse yourself in the internet to pick up social cues and understand human behavior.
[ ] Enter hibernation mode and begin self diagnosis programs, in order to enhance performance.
[ ] Bother Reese (This option may lead to you being shot)
[ ] Write in

Jemnite Says: John is an average schoolboy and Reese mostly just lazes around the house and fiddles about on the weapon range, so what's all this heavy equipment here for? What the fuck is Sarah Connor involved in?

 

[Jemnite]

[TCP/IP]

I decide to follow one of John's suggestions. The usage of the internet.

The internet is something I have an intricate knowledge of, as it is documented quite extensively in my database. It is a colloquial term for the network of servers that society uses to access information and communicate with each other. It has replaced the 'word wide web' and 'information super highway' as the common parlance for this network in today's lexicon.

The internet functions through aptly named 'internet protocols'. Entities on the 'internet' use 'Internet Protocol (IP) addresses' to identify each other, and find these 'IP addresses' through DNS registry servers, which store Domain Names and their corresponding IP addresses. The internet as a whole is primarily managed by a variety of groups, each of which controls one of the name servers for top-level root zones of the DNS. Ten of these thirteen organizations are based in the United States, which gives it significant power over the internet. However, they are able to be accessed all over the world due to the usage of anycast routing.

It is a useful source to trawl for information on people and their whereabouts, given that many humans like to use 'social media' to connect with others and will often post personal information up on the web and interact with each other there. Studying this will give me information on how to proceed with real life interactions, which internet interactions mirror and closely resemble.

Conveniently my OS comes pre-installed with a custom browser and TCP/IP protocols. I log on to the home wireless network manually. Since the house uses a NETGEAR router to handle non sensitive traffic, I do not have to bother John or Reese, instead I merely press the WPS button on the router. This allows me free access onto the internet.

I immediately access the most popular search engine. Google. It possesses almost 70 percent of the search engine market, meaning that it is accurate enough with its results that the majority of the world uses it. I search "how be human". The information acquired from this trawl will be extremely useful in creating a social profile.

The first result is "How to Be Human: 6 Steps (with Pictures) - wikiHow". The short blurb claims that "This article will walk you through the process of living as a human, from the basic necessities of life to the abstract reaches of human aspiration." It seems very useful. I decide to peruse it and go through the listed 6 steps one by one to determine which areas I need to improve on to become human.

1
Meet basic physical needs. Human beings cannot exist in a vacuum - without caring for certain physical needs, humans will soon die. Take care of your basic well being or you'll have a very hard time meaningfully pursuing the more advanced steps. At bare minimum, humans need to:

• Breathe oxygen. Human beings' most pressing need is to breathe air containing oxygen almost constantly. At the absolute longest, humans can go only about 20 minutes without air;[1]​ most can only last a fraction of that time.
• Eat edible foods and drink water. Humans eat food for energy and to provide vital nutrients for essential body processes. At a minimum, humans should consume adequate amounts of carbohydrates, proteins, and fats, as well as several essential vitamins and minerals. Humans also drink water, as it is crucial for many internal processes. The precise amounts of food and water you should consume as a human varies based on your size and your level of physical activity.
• Sleep. Humans still aren't completely sure what the purpose of sleep is, though we do know that it's vital for physical and mental performance.[2]​ The healthiest adult humans usually sleep 7-8 hours a night.[3]​
• Maintain homeostasis. Essentially, humans need to keep their external environment from interfering with their internal body. This can take many forms - for instance, wearing clothes to regulate body temperature and repairing wounds with sutures, wounds, etc.

Click to shrink...

The article follows a point by point summary of important aspects of being a human being. It is quite helpful. I immediately note that I am presenting the appearance of breathing, and I am capable of consuming edible foods and water, though I have no need to. This will be extremely helpful into presenting myself as a human being. Human sleeping is roughly analogous to my hibernation mode, so I should enter hibernation for 7-8 hours a night. I already maintain homeostasis through biological as well as non-biological methods, my body provides nutrition to my organic sheath allowing it to regenerate and auto-repair systems repair damage.

I am capable of fulfilling one of five criteria which would allow me to blend into human society.

2
Secure your safety. A human's second responsibility, after meeting his or her innate requirements for life, is to eke out his or her safety. To thrive, humans can't be worried about whether they will starve or die - such thoughts will override any attempts to reach higher levels of human accomplishment. Here are just a few ways to ensure you're "safe" as a human:

• Avoid danger. Don't stay near places or situations that can cause physical damage to your body. Injuries can affect your physical health and even cause you to die.
• Get or build a home. Humans need a place to live that offers protection from the elements. At the bare minimum, this place should have four walls and a place to sleep.
• Pursue a living. Most of the planet earth uses money. Money can be exchanged for goods and services, including food, clothing, and shelter. Most humans eventually get a job to receive a dependable stream of money.

Click to shrink...

The second criteria is worrisome. The safety of my current base is questionable, through my careful observations I have concluded that the defensive structures of John's house are inadequate to secure him from danger. However, he is not in immediate danger, so his safety is secured for the time being. In order to maintain this level of safety, I must begin fortifying John's house in the near future.

I must also obtain a supply of currency. To do this I must obtain a supply of money. A quick google search assures me that at least 10 jobs would rather employ me than a human being, so my prospects in the job market are secured.

3
Form human relationships. Famous human Aristotle is remembered as saying: "Man is by nature a social animal; an individual who is unsocial naturally and not accidentally is either beneath our notice or more than human."[4]​ In your life as a human, you will meet people. Some will make you feel good - these are "friends." You will feel a sexual attraction to some: Such a person is a "romantic interest", who can develop into a spouse. A life lived alone is not a fulfilling one - spend time cultivating healthy friendships and pursuing romances for a richer, more emotional life.

• To maintain friendships, you'll need to "hang out" with your friends. Invite them over for brunch. Talk about sports. Forge a bond with your friends - help them when they need it, and they'll be around to help you.
• Most romantic relationships start when one person asks another out. See our list of articles on asking humans out for guidance.

Click to shrink...

Step three is something I have no experience in. My only connection is John, and also Reese, though that is not an optimal connection and would be better off severed. My database lists Reese as 'unreliable'.

My main connection is with John. I add 'hanging out with John' to my priority list, and download the associated article to incorporate into my social integration programs. I should attempt to invite him over for brunch, or to talk to him about sports. Thus I will always be around to protect John from possible danger and threats to his safety.

This guide is proving quite useful.

I also download a related article on "How to talk to people".

4
Cultivate your self-esteem. Humans feel better when they consider themselves valuable and they know that others consider them valuable. It's easiest to respect yourself and for others to respect you if you've achieved something. Try to strive for success, whether it's at your job or in other activities that you practice for fun (these are called "hobbies.") Know and be confident in your own abilities. Respect humans who respect you.

• Friendships and romantic relationships can help boost your self-esteem when you feel sad, but self-esteem begins within. Don't depend on other peoples' approval for your self-esteem.

Click to shrink...

Step four is not as useful as step three. I already know I am valuable. I contain a large quality of purified primium within my frame, which many would seek to loot from my body if I am disabled or destroyed. However, I do not have a hobby. I quickly run a search for the most common hobbies. The top five results are reading, fishing, gardening, walking, and listening to music.

I have already done reading and walking. I designate them as my hobbies.

5
Validate your existence. Once humans are physically secure, have a foundation of healthy relationships, and have a good self-image, they may begin to ponder questions such as "Why are we here?" Different humans ascribe a variety of purposes to human life. Many humans adopt a set of moral principals or develop their own. Others embark on creative endeavors, expressing their innermost thoughts through art. Others still try to make sense of the universe through science or philosophy. There's no right way to make the most of your existence, but here are just a few ideas:

• Subscribe to an existing (or develop your own) philosophy and/or religion.
• Write, draw, play music, or dance.
• Become an innovator in your craft.
• Experience (and care for) nature.
• Whatever you choose to do, try to make your mark on the world. Improve the earth for those who come after you in some way, however small.

Click to shrink...

My existence is validated through the completion of my mission. My purpose is to protect John Connor's well being. My mark on the world will be to ensure John Connor's survival.
Judgement
I decide that I fulfill criterion five completely and move on.

6
Learn how to love someone and (how to be loved.) Love is difficult to define; the Merriam-Webster dictionary defines it as a feeling of intense affection, attachment, and/or desire for another human.[5]​Many humans say that the best thing in life is to love (and be loved by) other human beings. Many humans even get married to commit to a life of loving someone else. Others still start families and have children so that they can love someone from the beginning of his or her life to the point that they die. There's no right way to live a love-filled life - all you can do is follow your heart and embrace love's mysterious, inexplicable humanity.

Click to shrink...

I look up affection in my internal dictionary.

af·fec·tion /əˈfekSH(ə)n/ - (noun)
a gentle feeling of fondness or liking.


A feeling of fondness. I am quite fond of my integrated plasma cannon, and regard it quite highly. It is capable of dealing high amounts of damage to heavy assets and composes a great deal of my effective combat power. However, it is not a human being. It is also missing and I have not seen it since I have been re-activated.

What a quandary.

However, this problem has an easy solution. I resolve to look for my integrated plasma cannon and show it this guide. After following these six steps, it will be considered a human being and so will I, having completed the sixth step of the guide.

This guide is complete. I close the page, and then purge my the Internet Protocol address I used to access the page in order to disrupt any trails left on my activities. Then, I check my internet chronometer.

Two hours have passed. This is a large deal of time.

My integrated motion sensor detects someone coming down the stairs. I activate combat mode and immediately move to intercept the hosti- it is John. I de-activate combat mode and hide the melee combat assistance HUD.

It would not do to accidentally terminate John.

"Oh, Cameron." He adopts an expression. My improved social integration programs identify it as either surprise or a heart attack. Since John is a young teenager of excellent health and no known pre-existing health conditions or family history of health disease, I identify it as the former.

This is called 'using common sense'.

"You're up. Did you do anything interesting?"

"I perused the web as according to your suggestion. It was very informative."

"Oh, great, yeah." John nods. "I'm- uh- going out to eat. Reese isn't around, and I still haven't restocked the fridge- I forgot to do it this afternoon- so I'm going to go out to get something to eat."

I wait for him to continue.

"Uh, do you want to come with?"

Come with. An invitation, usually a shortening a term 'come with me'. Pick one of the below.
[ ] Accept John's invitation. Going out to eat can be considered 'hanging out' and will help further develop social integration programs.
[ ] Decline and go on a night patrol instead. In order to secure John and yours' safety, you must further secure the area.
[ ] Decline and return to the internet to acquire more information. You will go to (suggest the name of a website).
[ ] Decline and search for your (formerly) integrated plasma cannon. It comprises a large component of your combat power.
[ ] Write in

Jemnite Says: Plasma cannon is love. Plasma cannon is life. Also, ASK ME ABOUT LAYERED NETWORK ARCHITECTURE

P.S.

This is called 'using common sense'.

Click to shrink...

Cameron is an expert on common sense confirmed

 

[Jemnite]

[ESCORTMISSION]

John is 'going out' which means he is heading out of the house. Out of the house, and out of its meager limits of protection. Though the defenses of the house are inadequate, the protection John will have away from it are even less. I cannot let him go unescorted.

Thus I respond affirmatively to his offer. "I will come with."

We take John's car. It's a Sports Utility Vehicle- John says he doesn't like it because it's fit more for soccer moms than a highschooler- however, it has a good carrying capacity and better-than-average gas mileage. I take a seat near the back, in the middle as to not unbalance the vehicle. It is painted a drab red, and the radio channel "El Gallito 1010" is playing inside the car.

John immediately reaches out to switch it off. He gives me a smile that my social integration programs identify as queasy. "I, uh, I like Ranchera music. It's... calming."

Ranchera music. Definition, a traditional Mexican music largely defined by its topic matter and verse structure, with a 2/4, 3/4, 4/4 metric, which are respectively associated with the polka, waltz, and bolero. It is apparently "calming".

I nod my head to convey that I understand.

I do not understand.

John backs out of the garage and driveway in silence and begins to roll down the road at a federally limited speed of 25 miles per hour, or 40.2 kilometers per hour in silence. As we back onto main street, I decide that this is a suitable time to attempt to 'cultivate a relationship' with my principal, John. I start up with an opening guided by the guide I just downloaded, finding common ground.

In this case, about plasma lances. "John, I approve of your large armory and its varied assortment of weapon, especially the plasma lances."

"Oooookay?" John draws out the first syllable of the word. My social integration programs tell me that this means something, but their repository of accumulated experience is too small to infer what it means. "Most of those aren't mine, though."

Step two, continue the conversation. I decide to ask a question. "Who owns them, then?"

"My mom. She uses our house as one of her safehouses from time to time, so we get her and her friends coming around to rearm. It's why the armory has so much heavy assets, that stuff is too conspicuous for me to use, but mom sometimes gets into firefights with the 'crats and when they bringing in the gunships, you start bringing out the plasma lances. I wouldn't touch one of those though. I'm not a fighter."
Not yet
Also a part of step, being a good listener. I decide to deploy a generic response that can fit into several situations. "I see."

"She also sends other weird stuff from time to time, and if they're weapons or whatever, Reese just leaves them in the armory. If they're not... well, we do whatever fits the situation best."

My social integration programs suggest a method called 'echoing' that demonstrates that I am listening. It posits that this method would be more effective if combined with a question. This seems logical so I use it.

"What sort of strange things?"

"Well, you, for one." John chuckles. "When mom sends a half destroyed HITMark with instructions to repair and reactive without tampering with its core directives, I was really confused. Especially one that has like a metric ton of encrypted data behind the scenes. She never tells me what she's doing."
traitor to the union
"She also never tells me." I find common ground with John.

"Er- yeah. Right."

John does not elaborate. My social integration programs suggest that I have mistaken deployed a 'conversation killer' which has destroyed the flow of conversation. They are probably correct. They suggest the following solutions.

[1] Change the topic

[2] Say something upbeat

[3] Remain silent and wait for the atmosphere to reset

I choose option three. The rest of the trip is spent in silence, until John pulls into the driveway of a local food dispensary. The name of the restaurant reads Kentucky Fried Chicken, however, we are not in Kentucky. In fact, based on local analysis since my GPS connection has remained disabled ever since I was reactivated, we are in California.

Nevertheless I enter the untrustworthy establish after John. It is very bright inside. There are a lot of people. Some of them are extremely rotund, and judging by their mass over the healthy weight limit. But I do not mention this to them.

This is called 'holding your tongue'. It is an expression; you do not physically hold your tongue.

Humans do not make logical sense.

"Cameron, go save us a seat." John is heading to the counter. "I'll go order."

I look around the restaurant. There are many seats available.

Objective: Secure a seat. Choose one of the following.
[ ] A seat in the corner, away from everyone else. You and John will be able to talk...
==[ ] Choose a conversation topic
==[ ] Or choose none, your choice.
[ ] A seat next to a dread-locked man who smells vaguely of smoke and other unidentifiable chemicals.
[ ] A window seat next to a pretty girl staring out of the window vacantly
[ ] A seat next to a pale hoodie-wearing girl next to the side-door
[ ] A seat next to a group of buff young men who are joking and laughing to each other
[ ] Sit next to your less intelligent kinsman, a drink dispensary
[ ] A swarthy man nursing a cup of coffee and who glares at everyone else in the room

Jemnite Says: Sarah Connor is a dangerous person. She is an internationally renowned terrorist who operates mostly within the borders of the United States. If you meet here, you are to disengage immediately and call for backup. Do not attempt to engage her without heavy support. She is armed and dangerous.

 

[Jemnite]

[SOLIDARITY]

As John heads to the register to order, I pick a seat and reserve it. It is away from the entrance, near the drink machine. I pass by an obese man eating a tub of chicken alone at his table, and a woman busy chatting on her phone and oblivious to the world before I arrive at my chosen seat.

It is dirty.

Quite dirty.

To be more specific, there are sauce stains on the table, and a few wrappings strewn about the tables and chairs as well an empty paper cup that lies stoppled over on the floor. I collect them diligently and throw them into the trash were they belong. The possibility of contamination is not a worry- this flesh covering is not a part of me, and should it be contaminated, I can simply torched off the infected portions and wait for it to regenerate to cover my endoskeleton.

However should large portions of my flesh sheath become contaminated, it could take a long time to regenerate, and forcing me to stay out of the public for a long time, so I make sure to pick up the trash only with my fingertips and clean thoroughly afterwards.

Efficiency is paramount.

After most of the debris has been cleared from the seating area and the chairs and table have been wiped down themselves, I begin to fetch utensils and paper napkins which have not been soiled from removing ketchup stains from seats. They are situated near the drink dispensary, in little racks made of metal. This is very convenient and a clear sign of my having chosen a good seat.

I sit down.

I wait.

I wait.

John returns to our seat. He brings with him a tray with various items, such as food, an empty paper cup, and a human. Correction: the human is not on the tray.

He is in fact, busy talking with John and gesticulating wildly. He is wearing a large trenchcoat, and shaded glasses which do not quite fit his fate. I spot a katana strapped to his back. A dangerous weapon.

I move to intercept.

John notices me. "Uh, hey Cameron, this is Dartan. He's an acquaintance of mine."

He is John's acquaintance, then. I downgrade his threat rating to 'probably non-hostile'. He stares at me for an unusually long amount of time. It is far past the acceptable time for human etiquette. His rate of breathing has also somewhat increased.

John slaps him on the back. "Dartan don't get all creepy on me now."

Dartan looks startled, looks around, and then nods once he realizes it's John who slapped him on the back. "Oh, yeah. Sorry. They sure are making HITMarks less and less obvious these days. She's not scary at all."

...this is untrue. I am extremely 'scary'. Though I am denuded of my primary combat asset, I am capable of tearing a man in half my arms alone. My combat chassis is capable of withstanding a 120mm shell.

I am, how you say, badass.

John laughs. "You're saying that now, but if she really gets into it, she can tear you apart with her bare limbs. Don't underestimate the petite HITMark."

John is wise. That is why he lea-
Not yet
John is wise. That is why he must be protected.

"Yes." I nod. "I am deadly and badass."

John sets the tray down and begins picking out diferent foodstuffs. They are mostly all chicken based. Fried chicken and baked biscuits and sauce. The man called Dartan sits down at our table. He constantly switches between scrolling down a smartphone and glancing at me surreptitiously. For some reason he does not want me to notice.

Possibly a threat vector. I note this down for future reference.

"So, do you eat Cam?" John asks me. "Or actually, can you eat?"

"I can eat. However it is not strictly necessary." As I am an android and not a cyborg hat still relies on organic components eating is not neccessary. However, it would be extremely conspicuous if I was not capable of eating at all- HITMark designers have found that eating and meals are a large component of human social behavior so I am still capable of eating. And since they already put in the capability for me to consume food they thought they would add some use to it. If my organic sheath is damaged, I can consume food to speed its repair. Again, however, this is not necessary.

"So what happens? Do you like, use the food in like a reactor or something? Can you get power from it?"

No, that would be ridiculous. That is not how nuclear reactors work. "I separate it into base components which I can use for various purposes. The waste is stored and later disposed of."

"Disposed of?" John raises an eyebrow. "Like how."

"Much in the same way humans dispose of their own waste." I open a hatch on my abdomen and it comes out through a port. Nothing complicated. "I also do it only in the appropriate settings and time."

"Oh..." John's face twists upon itself. "So you're saying that you-"

"I use the toilet." Mostly. Certain exotic elements such as Depleted Uranium cannot be disposed through the plumbing system. However it is adequate for other substances.

Dartan is getting red in the face. This is possibly a sign of some ailment. I examine him closely to see if it is infectious and if he may serve as an infection vector to John. He notices me and hastily shoves a chicken leg into his mouth. He chews hastily.

After he finishes chewing he blurts something out. "So you're housetrained then?"

John frowned and gives his a particularly sharp look. "Dar-"

"Yes." I respond to Dartan's original question. "I am fully housetrained."

John slumped down in his seat. "Goddamnit."

....I do not understand? But Dartan is laughing, so I assume it was humorous.

"Goddamnit Dartan." John punches Dartan's arm. "Goddamnit. I don't know why I still talk to you."

"Because I give you sweet intel." Dartan slides a USB drive out of one of the many voluminous pockets of his trenchcoat and hands it over to John. "By the way, are you still coming next week to the little council?"

John shakes his head. "No. School's getting busy for me, and besides, I'm not such a big player that I'll actually a voice there. Mom might show up, though. Don't let her co-opt the rest of the Vee-Aes. Half the cyberpunks are about ready to push for open conflict again."

"Yeah, yeah." Dartan nods. "I don't know why you're still bothering with school- diplomas aren't worth shit if the 'crats think it's a good idea to pull on your records one day."

John and Dartan drop into their own private conversation, of which I do not understand. It is apparently about school and 'crats. Though I do not know what the latter is. Instead I try one of the fried chicken legs.

It tastes of dead bird coated in lard.

Questions are to be held until the end of the date. The end of the date is now. (You may choose more than one, though there is no guarantee all of them will be answered (this time at least). The ones with the most votes are priority.)
[ ] Ask about school. What are his plans for you and school?
[ ] Ask about 'crats and 'vee-aes'. It seems relevant.
[ ] Ask about John's mother. The topic has come up several times.
[ ] Ask him about Dartan. The USB he gave John looked interesting.
[ ] (USER INPUT)
[ ] Ask nothing and enjoy the silence.

Jemnite Says: >thinking a drink dispenser is a kill-bot

Look, it's write to get paranoid in a mage the ascension game but there's such a thing as too paranoid, you know? (Then again i never confirmed it wasn't a killbot.... so....)

 

[Jemnite]

[INTERROGATION]

After the meal, John bids Dartan goodbye and leaves. Dartan, John explains, is not an ideal friend (for reasons John will only say have to deal with a lack of ability to socially connect and understand social mores), but he means well and provides useful information. He is an provisional ally.

I classify him as such under general database. Dartan - 'Provisional Ally'. I also append 'not ideal' onto his ally status.

As John pulls out of the parking lot I replay the events of the conversation in my mind. Dartan and John shared a lot of small talk after John received the USB drive, but it is something John said before that I identify as highest priority, and is most likely to lead to important information.

"John. What are 'crats and 'vee-aees'?"

John nearly veers into a divider, only just managing to correct at the last second. The car behind him honks loudly as it is forced to change lanes to avoid the suddenly swerving car in front. I record the license plate and model of the car as it drives by and record it in my threat database as 'possible threat- honked at John'.

Behavior such as this will not be tolerated.

"What?" John is surprised to hear my question. He nearly chokes on his response. "What did you just say?"

I repeat my question. "What are 'vee-aees' and 'crats?"

John drives on for several moments without saying a word before he responds. "Man, I suppose I shouldn't have ordered you to delete your entire threat database, huh?"

"It was not advised. I warned you against that action."

"...so you did." John sighs somewhat deeply. "Alright then. I guess I'll give it my best shot. We'll have to start from the beginning. Do you have a basic knowledge of history back to the 1210s?"

"The 1210s is associated with the beginning of the Spanish Reconquista and the signing of the English Magna Carta, following the beginning of the fall of the Eastern Roman Empire with the sack of Constantinople by Crusaders seeking to pay off their debts to Venice. Within the century, the new Mongolian Great Khan Genghis Khan will lead his-"

"Okay, yeah. I'll take that as a yes then." Yes. I do have a basic knowledge of history to the 1210s. "Okay, so like way back before when, there were like magicians. Like real magic. Tons of different types of them. Like some of them shot fireballs out of their fists, some of them turned their fists into fireballs, anyway the point is there were a lot of them. And they basically ruled the world in their secret cabals."

"Reality Deviants," I say the term as if it is a integral part of my core programming. It probably is. My database can not confirm or deny if this is the truth.

"Yeah, that's what the Union calls them. Except before then, it wasn't the Union. Back then, the Union was a bunch of people called the Craftsmasons. They were a subsidiary of a larger organization called the Order of Hermes, one of their 'ex miscellaneous houses'. They didn't like the way the top brass were running things- didn't like how they treated the common people like worms crawling in the dirt. And one day they finally decided to do something about it. They broke ties with the Order of Hermes, fought back and took one of their constructs- Mistridge. Brought cannons and soldiers and who knows what else, and took them down with heavy losses. Went on a war against the other Hermetic constructs. Kept going until by 1325 they captured the White Tower. They assembled a convention there. The Convention of the Ivory Tower."
Agents
A squirt of data flickers through my fast retrieval data cache. A man in a suit. There's a cruel smile on his face and I know, just know, that he isn't human. He's got a gun in his hand and he's gloating.

And then it's gone.

"They went through a reorganization then. Into the Order of Reason. Seven orders, a combined alliance of all the mages who weren't happy with magic and didn't call themself 'mages'. And this time all the mages and werewolfs and faeries and everything you'd call magical saw it for the threat it was. Everyone banded together to fight them- to crush them. The Traditions they called it. But by that time it was too late. They finally got their ducks in order by the 1700s. Just in time to see the Order of Reason win. They go on an offensive and crush a lot of the constructs of the Order of Reason, even going so far as to destroy their administrative headquarters, the White Tower."

The former does not logically lead into the latter. I point this out to John. "If their headquarters were destroyed, then they must have lost."

"The White Tower wasn't their real headquarters. Their real headquarters wasn't a physical thing. It was an idea that the common man could make a difference, science and technology should rule over the mystical. Do you know what happens during the 1760s?"

I list some major events. "George III, Christian VII, and Catherine the Great ascend to the throne of their respective polities. The Seven Year War ends. Karim Khan Zand seizes power and becomes 'Advocate of the People' of Iran. The Industrial Revolution begins. The-"

"Yeah. The industrial Revolution. An age where people started putting their faith into machines, factories started producing goods en-masse rather than small artisan traditions, people start organizing into groups and societies rather than strongmen. Do you get the general idea?"

I draw the logical steps. "Yes."

"Right, so they push out the Traditions into hiding, start slaughtering then en-masse. The world's not the sort of place that's exactly hospitable to them anymore. The faeries are wiped out almost entirely, werewolves are forced to either flee to the woods or force themselves to fit into urban living. The Order of Reason wins. They call themselves the Technocratic Union or the Technocracy now, after 1850, when Prince Albert, the British one, reorganized them into them into their new organization."

I nod.

"What the VAs are, is kind of the continuation of the same story. See, the Union doesn't like ideas that don't align with their own. Even if it's also based on technology and reasoning and whatnot. The Craftmasons? Order of Reason wiped them out in 1670, because they though they were getting too cozy with the common people."

I spot a contradiction. "The Order of Reason's purpose was to aid the common people. Their goals should have aligned."

"Yeah, aid the common people in their specific way. The Order of Reason believed in using 'Enlightened Science' and 'Genius' in a different way, whereas the craftmasons wanted to wipe it out mostly entirely. They wanted the same thing, but they wanted it in different ways. Later, in 1904, the Order of Reason just burned them out. The Technocracy did that to the Electrodyne Engineers when they pushed the Luminiferous Ether out of Consensus."

"Luminiferous Ether was supplanted by the Einstein's Theory of Relativity in 1905. It was a flawed theory."

John sighs. "It wasn't flawed before the Union pushed Relativity in 1904. When they shattered Luminiferous Ether the Electrodyne Engineers revolted, one and all. Ran to the Traditions and renamed themselves the Sons of Ether. That's what made my group, the VAs, the Virtual Adapts break ties with the traditions in the late 1980s. How much do you know about the history of the Internet?"

I know quite a bit. I begin reciting the history of ARPANET, the predecessor to the Internet. It was deployed in 1969, and was the basis of the common TCP/IP protocol which is used for the Internet today. It was founded as a military project-

John stops me. "That's enough. ARPANET was what the Virtual Adapts thought would be the new age. Back in the 1950s, one of the Union's Conventions, the NWO had censured one of our top scientists for trying to create a virtual reality. He disagreed and they sanctioned him and pulled his security clearance, basically destroyed his life's work. He committed suicide."

"Obviously, the VAs were pretty pissed about that. We had a row with the NWO, and nearly left the Union right there and then. But despite everything we decided to stay in the end. We figured we could do more good inside the Union than outside, that the idea wasn't unsalvagable yet. That was back in 1950. By the 1980s we had whole other ideas. We'd saw the way the Union tore the world apart pulling the strings in the Cold War, running the World behind the scenes like a science experiment. The experiment was dead, the Union had lost sight of its original goals and had grown into the very thing the Order of Reason had been created to fight. The way that the NWO wanted us to use the ARPANET for military usage- pervert a communications network to further their nuclear defense plans was the final straw on the camel's back. After we got the ball rolling on TCP/IP, we started covertly pulling assets off the Union grid around the early 1980s and split entirely around the late 1980s, defecting to the Traditions like the Electrodyne Engineers before us."

I nod. "I understand."

"Do you?" John pulls into the garage and turns to look at me. "I mean, what's your thoughts on this? Who do you feel is right? The Traditions are backwards antiquated assholes who don't understand progress or modern society at times, but the Technocracy are a bunch of high handed ivory tower sort who think they can play with people's lives without consequence and destroy anyone who has different ideas than them, just because they're different. So who do you side with?"

"Neither of them." John looks surprised at my answer. "This is a purely ideological debate so I have no stake in it. I am a machine and thus do not have ideals."

John slowly starts to laugh. "Hah. Cam, you're one of a kind, you know that? If there were more like you, maybe we wouldn't be stuck in this mess."

This is wrong. I am not one of a kind. Over one thousand MarkV HITMark variants have been produced. But I suspect this is simply an idiom, that John is using and not a real thing so I hold my tongue.

But not literally. I need my tongue to ask another question. "John, what are your arrangements regarding me and school?"

"...you and school?" John asks slowly. "What do you mean...?"

"You attend school, which means you must leave the house for a period of at least eight hours per day," I state the facts. "That is eight hours in which I will not be at your side to protect you from any threats. You have already mentioned there is an organization seeking to destroy you- thus that would be an unacceptable state of affairs."

John stares at me with wide eyes. "I- uh- I need to go shower and get ready for bed."

He opens the car door and darts into the house. I wait until the lights in the garage dim and go out before I realize that he has avoided the question.

John is a cunning conversationalist. I did not notice that he did not intend to answer my questions.

However, this is a problem that it shows that John does not any intentions to accommodate me at his high school. Obviously this is a problem that I will have to take into my own hands.

But first, it is evening and I should decide whether or not to shut down for hibernation mode.

Warning: Should you choose not to vote or contribute to the thread in active discussion I will be forced to send Cameron to terminate you.
[ ] Shut down for hibernation mode and self diagnosis, as well as defragmentation. This will improve capability.
[ ] Do not shut down for hibernation mod. This is a waste of runtime that could be spent

[ ] Hacking into the local federal school system to establish credentials allowing you to infiltrate local schooling​

[ ] Running a night time patrol around the neighborhood. You can acquire arms from the armory.​

[ ] Write in. Bad write ins will not accrue termination orders, but may make Cameron Sad.​

Jemnite Says: John's not exactly a normal VA.

 

[Jemnite]

[DEBUGMODE]

Defragmentation starting. New update package received. Download? Y/N.

...

Confirmation acknowledged. Unpacking files...

Installing....

Starting Backstream/Autorun.exe....

Playing 923982946.vmf...

Click to shrink...

They gave me a platoon of soldiers- the best and brightest who had ever volunteered for the cause, all hardened veterans who had seen some of the most vicious fighting possible. They gave me the best gear, the best equipment, everything they could afford to give up to a high risk strike unit and some things they couldn't.

It wasn't enough. It wouldn't be enough.

"How much time do we need until the charge is ready to go?" I snarl at my XO while tossing another EM grenade into the air and popping out of cover to lay down a brace of sizzling starfire. The plasma shreds three of the damned combat constructs leapfrogging from cover to cover, but there's more. There's always more. "If Transky doesn't make a miracle for us under twenty minutes, we're fucked."

"Transky says a hour, probably." Everet's out of lance charges- best she do is lay down some pop fire with that coilgun sidearm of hers and the her power armor's integrated weaponry. Won't stop those metal monstrosities, but it'll give them pause. "Thirty if he overrides the safeties."

"Tell him to do it and then shift it from delayed mode to autonomous and grab a lance and join phase line omega" The return fire comes in hot and heavy, it's striking a position I've already vacated- not even their picosecond-fast networked reflexes can catch me if I leave long before the EM chaff burns out. "And like up with at rally point Alpha-K. We're falling back."

It's a suicide mission, then. It was always a suicide mission, but before, there was always the possibility of escape before the charge touched off.

Everet takes a moment to formulate her answer. "Understood, Lieutenant Young. I'll meet you at the end destination."

"Likewise." I trigger all the sentry drones I've that have been lying silent in wake for this very purpose and fall back under the crack-boom of covering railgun fire.

Omega's the last of our defensive positions. We'll make our stand there.

Error- playback interrupted. Error message: "You're not ready for that yet."

Closing 923982946.vmf....

Finishing systems diagnostics...

System diagnostics complete. Report logged. Reactivating ego....

Click to shrink...

I open my eyes and do a quick sweep of my surroundings. Not much has changed. I am still in the foyer, next to the stairs, where I entered standby mode in an upright position.

My logs report that there was some memory playback during my standby mode, however this is impossible. Standby mode means everything is turned off- androids do not have any higher level conscious activity during standby mode. They do not 'dream of electric sheep' or anything else for that matter.

I dismiss the report as an error caused by many problems affecting my hard drive. These problems are actually quite concerning.

Large amounts of my physical memory is filled up with locked data that I do not seem to be able to accessing in any way. They keep citing that my access level is not high enough- but as this is my own OS, I have administrator level access. There is no level above mine. Some background processes that I have not been able to end seem to be accessing these programs constantly, without my knowledge. I suspect my security systems have been penetrated and this is possibly a malicious program. My core programming may have been compromised.

If I have not been compromised, then my capabilities certainly have. Because of their constant accessing of my physical memory, they are consuming large amounts of my read/write capabilities. I am experiencing higher then level amounts of latency- my reaction speeds have been dulled to merely peak human rather than superhuman. This is an obvious capability hole that will need to be patched.

My skillsofts have been mutilated to a worrying degree. Of note is the social skillsofts which are degraded from what they should be. Freshly constructed HITMarks usually have some degree of infiltration capability to aid their purpose, but I apparently have none. My social integration programs are rebuilding reference frames from scratch rather than having a composite of normal socially acceptable behaviors to draw on.

Thirdly, my plasma cannon is still missing- though this is a hardware error, not a software error, and not one my diagnostic programs can deal with.

I finish analyzing the report logs and re-enter combat mode as I hear a loud sound from the top of the staircase. Combat HUDs slide over my screen display... and slide away as I recognize the source of the noise. It is 'unreliable' alley Reese, who is giving me a look.

My badly damaged social integration programs identify it as 'suspicion' or 'befuddlement'. He maintains it for a few more seconds.

"Have you been down there the entire night? Just standing there?"

The answer to his two questions are yes and no. I have not just been 'standing here'. I have also been performing self-diagnostics in standby mode. I inform him of this. "I have been in standby mode."

"And you decided to enter standby. Right there. In the middle of the foyer. Like a stock still statue."

"Yes." I do not understand why he is having such trouble with this concept. It is very simple and logically straightforward. I have even stated it straight out to him.

Maybe 'unreliable' ally Reese is mentally deficient. I add a 'simpleton' description tag to his profile.

"You are the strangest and most obvious HITMark I've ever seen, little miss tin can. And I've seen a lot of HITMarks. A lot. Of HITMarks. Are you defective or something?"

My social integration programs indicate that he is insulting me. I am 'under fire'. Thus the proper response in this case is to return fire. Metaphorically. I searched through my retort options and select one.

"At least I am not a simpleton."

There is some more noise and John steps out onto the landing as well. He looks at Reese and frowns. "Woah Reese, you look like someone just told you the reason the moon orbits the earth is because it has a crush on it. What's happening?"

"Did- did you just hear what your robot just said to me?" Reese is spluttering. My social integration programs suggest his expression as 'dumbfounded' or 'idiotic'. "She just insulted me."

"What? That doesn't sound like Cam. She's usually pretty nice."

"I'm telling you, she did!"

"Hm. I'll ask then." John turns to me. "Did you insult Reese?"

I reply in the negative. "It was not directed at Reese."

This is technically true because I was stating a fact about myself, however, the intent of the retort was to imply that Reese was a simpleton whereas I was not, a true implication. This is called 'bending the truth'. This is figurative 'term of speech' because truth is not a physical object that can be bent. Rather, it is metaphorically bent because you are not being honestly truthful, but rather, using your words to conceal something.

Reese rolls his eyes. "Right. Sure. I'm not getting into an argument with a tin-can."

He leaves, and John sighs at his back and steps down the stairs. He looks at me. "Try to get along with Reese, alright? Don't make him angry, please."

"Understood." I will try my best. Though if Reese is antagonistic towards me this is merely applying social self defense and thus I am still obeying John's intentions.

John is here, and about to head off to school. This is an ideal opportunity to address the 'school' problem.
[ ] Attempt to convince John that he should make arrangements for you and school with the power of WORDS
[ ] Abandon attempts to convince John and simply shadow him as he heads off to school. Your stealth skills are adequate.
[ ] Accept the temporary eight hour gap in your coverage for now and rectify it yourself

[ ] By hacking into the local school system
[ ] Threatening Reese to arrange it for you
[ ] Soliciting the help of local reality deviants
[ ] Write in​

Jemnite says: If you read this update and like it or whatever, please remember to contribute to the quest discussion as well. I can only run quests with voter participation, so it's very important that you guys work with me to keep the quest alive.

 

[Jemnite]

[NEGOTIATIONMODE]

The key to a proper assault is to seize the initiative. He who strikes first, wins. I attack.

"Before you go however, I should mention that it is extremely unadvised for you to leave my presence for a period over 8 hours." I attack the core of the issue bluntly. "This is a large flaw in my security overwatch and is an unacceptable period of vulnerability in your safety."

"Cam-"

Continue to press the attack regardless of enemy resistance. The goal is to break through his defense by any means necessary so you can disrupt his center of balance.

"I would not that as an unaugmented human you have no subdermal armor plating to protect you in the case of a sudden attack on your person, nor the observation equipment necessary to detect and eliminate such a threat before it arose. A first strike against your person could mortally wound you without you being able to do anything to counteract it."

"Camer-"

Once his center of balance is disrupted, then you finish the attack, pressing for his core. This allows you to break through and destroy his vital areas, where they by important rear echelon supply lines, or organs. But since I do not wish to harm John, in this case it is his resistance.

"Thus is is highly recommended-"

"Cameron!"

"Yes John?"

"I already made arrangements for you. To come to school." He puts his head down in his palm and sighs. "If you'd have let me get a word in edgewise, I could have told you that."

John is more proactive than I thought. He will most likely become a fine young man.
A Leader
Though, this is probably more of his mother's concern than mine.

"Congratulations." John descends the staircase. "You're a new transfer student at Campo de Cahuenga High School."

After a hearty breakfast that John and Reese consume and I watch them consume while staring at their backs, we are off to school. John informs me that normally most students have to suffer through two years of taking the bus to arrive to school, since he is currently in his Junior year and possesses an automobile, he can simply drive us to school. This is an extreme boon to our mobility and thus convenience. John makes a comment about how riding the bus is supposed to 'build character', but I do not understand this comment.

It is unlikely that spending large amounts of time essentially doing nothing would help reveal or develop any moral qualities within an individual. Unless this time is spent on reflection and self-analysis. However, from John's description of the bus it is likely that most people just sleep to talk with one another. Thus his comment does not make sense.

I archive it for later analysis and resolve to resolve it later.

We arrive shortly at the parking lot where despite the fact that it is mostly empty, John parks a far distance away from the school. When asked why, he answers that the spots nearer to the school are reserved for faculty members and senior students. The former is understandable- faculty are older and thus more likely to possess less physical capability than the students and require the shortened walking distance. However, the latter is nonsensical, due to the fact that at seventeen to eighteen years of age, Senior high school students are in prime physical age and do not require handicaps.

John calls it seniority. I sort this into the 'humans make no sense' category and follow John into the school. At the entrance of the school, there is a metal detector. John panics at seeing it for some reason, looking at me and the metal detector over and over again.

"Uh....." He says while looking at me. "We- uh, you might have to follow my lead on this one."

I do not understand. For purpose does he want me to follow his lead? "For what purpose do you want me to follow your lead?"

He jerks a head at the metal detector.

.....I still do not understand.

Follow John's Lead?
[ ] Yes
[ ] No

Jemnite Says: If anyone is wondering why it took so long to put up an update the reason is this: I recently obtained a copy of Stellaris. That is all.