1.2 Terrain-Reconnissance
Jemnite
CVN-69 Fella
- Location
- 清源书院
[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?
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?
