The New Math, Thread The Third

[Bluemage]

Right.  Back from vacation, and almost done clearing up the myriad of issues that vacations always cause.  Done enough to write, anyway.
Since we were pretty close to the limit (and nobody was commenting any more), I thought we'd move to a new thread.
**********
Fortunately for my patience, the false door- some sort of illusion, over a force-field, I reckoned- was the last of them.  Behind it was a(nother) cavernous open space; as I looked around it, taking in the sights, I was struck by the familiarity of the room.  Are all the storage rooms in the 'verse huge, cavernous caves full of boxes?
And why am I two for two on them having cars in them?
Sitting out in an open space in the front of the room, directly in front of the door that'd just opened, were the four Syndicate trucks Uno'd teleported out.  The nine people that went with said trucks were laid out in a neat row, grouped into three sets of three, between us and the trucks- still unconscious.
Before Uno could walk into the room, I stopped her with a tap on her shoulder, and then waved my other arm, Fencer's Blade charged and ready, towards the men laying there.  "Want me to..."Uno cocked her head at me in confusion- for all of half a second- and then shook her head, smiling fondly.  "I appreciate the thoughtfulness, Imma, but it's not necessary.  They've all been sedated."
I shrugged, letting the spell dissipate.  "...oh.
So what is it we're here for?  Not interrogation, obviously... so are we here to search the trucks for useful items?"
Uno blinked.  "...yes.  Yes, we are.  Once that task is complete, though, I require your assistance moving the prisoners."
I sighed at that.  Why do I get the feeling that Uno wasn't actually here to search the trucks?

"Hey, Uno?  You'd better take a look at this."
The two of us had split up to search the four Syndicate trucks.  It quickly became boring.  The first truck I'd gone into had been basically what I'd expected out of a space-Mafia soldier-carrier; comfy seats for four, a small armory in the back, space (and restraints) for two prisoners... and a few random credits, here and there, which went straight into my pockets.
The second one looked the same from outside.  One look in the back, though, and I was yelling for Uno.
"Yes, Imma?  What did you need?"
I simply pointed into my truck, grinning like a madman, and waited.
"You want me to look inside?"
I nodded.  Thankfully, Uno did as requested, and looked into the back compartment of the truck, where the three inactive, mint-condition Mark I M-Drones (and associated launch cradles, interface, and maintenance kit) sat waiting.
"...oh.  Oh, my.  The Doctor must know of this.  Go ahead and move the prisoners to the primary lab, Imma- I'll finish matters here."
Still grinning, I walked off to comply.  Best.  Raid.  Ever.

---

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.

[Black Aeronaut]

... Christmas just came early for Mr. Scaglietti. :p

[classicdrogn]

So, now that I've finally caught up with the last three or four posts, I can say that yes, the added last line when Imma decides not to just blow the dam completely does clear things up nicely in concert with the subsequent parts, and the situation overall seems to have been nicely handled. Also some nice character bits for Uno after he returns, seeing through his plan straight off, then realizing how that may have looked to him a few minutes later, but not fully following through on the unexpeccted additions to the plan (capturing the trucks) until he points out that they might as well search them while they have them.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows

[Bluemage]

Glad to see you caught up. ^^
Yeah, I'm overall aiming to cast the Numbers as competent, but still capable of human failings... and prone to making even more of them, on account of stunted personalities and programmed worldviews.  Glad to hear that that worked.
Uno's plan was something closer to 'move the bodies into Experimental Subject Containment, chide Imma for not killing them, scan the kit, and send the results to the Doc as a low-priority message'.  I just reshuffled her plans a bit, at first.
Also, the most recent few posts on the SV version have a replacement for the 'you need sensory training' test fight, which went in a different direction than I'd originally planned at the end.  Thoughts?  Ideas?  I admit, I'm a bit uncertain what she wants at the moment.
Also, I ended this on a cliffhanger because I wanted your ideas as to what the drones really are.  I know, but I'd like your thoughts.
**********

When Jail Scaglietti first saw the M-Drones I'd brought back, his first reaction- the expression on his face- reminded me of nothing more than the proverbial cat that ate the canary.  Satisfaction, anticipation, and a certain amount of unrestrained scientific glee, all bundled up into a single grin.  Thirty seconds later, he'd linked their control system up to a small black box, brought up a display from it- must be some sort of isolated system- and started up more processes than the display could show at once.
As process after process finished, bringing their results up on the display for him to read, the doctor's grin gradually faded more and more.  By the time the last scan had finished, he was
scowling in- is that disappointment?  Frustration?
"...such a waste."  He clenched a fist, glaring at the machine in front of him.  "This design has such potential... all of it WASTED."Easiest way to handle the doc is to get him talking.  Maybe...  "Potential?  That?!"  I forced a derisive snort.  "You must be joking."
Scaglietti shook his head.  "Oh, I had no doubt you'd say that."  He held up a hand, cutting off my retort.  "I'm sure you noticed that these... drones...", he spat, "are invariably deployed in groups of three.  Correct?"Wow.  He's really not impressed with the things.  I could've sworn he said 'garbage', instead of 'drones'.
I nodded in response.  "Three the first time, three in this truck..."  I dove into my memory for a few seconds, searching for a specific detail.  "Even that horde of them, back on P3J-992?  Ninety-nine drones.  Even the Mark IIs I've faced came in threes."
The doctor nodded, making a satisfied grunt.  "As I suspected."  He brought up a schematic on his testing computer- three wireframe drones in a triangle, two drawn in red and the other drawn in blue.  As I watched it, the colors flickered- blue becoming red, red becoming blue.  One's always blue, and two are always red... some sort of handoff?  But of what?
Then it hit me.  One drone out of three would always dodge.  The other two would try... but they never seemed as proactive.  "...distributed intelligence?"
Scaglietti smirked.  "Networked intelligence."  He fiddled with the diagram for a second- ...and now they're all red.  Disconnect one, and... oh, that just makes my head hurt.
"...why in Hestia's green earth would they DESIGN such a thing!?"  ...did I say that out loud?  Eh.  Screw it.  "That's not what networked processing is FOR!  The whole POINT is to enhance teamwork and strategic thinking- not to make up for units so freakin' STUPID they can't even fight right!"  I was pacing now, gesticulating wildly as I ranted.  "They're not adding together- they're just concentrating the sheer STUPIDITY of this type of design into two units, so that the third can stop being UTTERLY RETARDED long enough to EXPLODE!  I mean, the only way this could even REMOTELY make sense..."  I stopped in mid-sentence, my brain too busy processing what'd just occurred to me.
...no way.  That can't be right!
"...the only way is?", Scaglietti prompted.

---

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.

[Tennie]

Thirty later,

Thirty what later? Seconds? Minutes? (In other words, typo by omission.)

I mean, the only way this could even REMOTELY make sense..."  I stopped in mid-sentence, my brain too busy processing what'd just occurred to me.

...no way.  That can't be right!

"...the only way is?", Scaglietti prompted.

Hopefully, in the next installment, we should find out what Imma was about to say before he stopped himself, and what made him stop in mid-sentence!

[Bluemage]

Typo corrected.
The AN at the beginning, Tennie.  I wanted people to post speculations, if they had some.  You will get the official line Tuesday.

---

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.

[classicdrogn]

I'm not actually seeing any way that it makes sense. Even if their AIs are too limited to properly operate with less than three linked together, that means you make something else capable of being an effective combat unit on its own or put three of the cores in each frame.
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows

[Bluemage]

It makes more sense when you consider that the first drones you saw were Mark IIIs.  Now you're seeing Mark Is, and some Mark IIs.
The numbers are not indicative of technological generation.  They're more... call it a statement of purpose, or of complexity.  Don't think 'if it can't be used autonomously, what's the point'.  Think rather 'if it can't be used autonomously, what can it be used for?'
**********
"I don't think the drones are badly designed.  They're being misused."  I stopped pacing, and whirled to face Scaglietti.  "Think about it.  The Type Is are dumb- this we know.  Why?  What makes them dumb?"
The doctor laughed.  "Why, Imma, is it not obvious?  The drones simply do not have the computational capacity they require!  It should be DOUBLED!"
The image of Jail Scaglietti as a purple alicorn moon princess flashed through my head.  I managed- by the barest of margins- not to fall over laughing at the absurdity of it, but I couldn't keep the amusement off my face.
"What?"
I spent a few seconds recovering my composure.  "Nothing important, doc.  Just a joke I heard a couple years ago."  I took a few deep breaths after that, and forced myself not to think of... whatever it was that had occurred to me just then.
Note to self: review that thought later.
"Where were we, again?"
Uno blinked, her eyes going out of focus for a second as she reviewed the conversation.  "You claimed that the M-Drones were being misused, and then asked why their combat intelligence was substandard."
I nodded.  "Thank you, Uno."  She nodded back, and I turned back to the doctor.  "So M-Drone intelligence is primarily limited by hardware, correct?  They just don't have the capacity to do everything asked of them?"
Scaglietti closed the blueprint window, opening up a barely-comprehensible torrent of code in its place.  "I cannot say for certain, Imma, but that appears to be true."  A flick of a finger stopped the code in its tracks, expanding the section he was pointing at to fill the entire window.  "Uno.  This subroutine seems... different, somehow, from the rest of the code.  What do you see?"
She opened up the same file, her eyes flicking across the code with inhuman speed and precision as it scrolled past her face.  Once the file had finished, she thought for a good minute or so, idly flicking the code back and forth... and then, very purposefully, found and highlighted bits and pieces of the file, before pushing it back over to the doctor.  "Here.  The rest of the code appears to have been written by a single being, but these sections..."
The doctor copied all the highlighted code to a different file and scanned through it, scowling every so often as he read.  "There's more than one style here.  Two coders?"
Uno shook her head.  "I see three, in addition to the original.  Amateurs."
Jail's eyes widened, but he went back over the code snippets one more time... and then sighed in defeat.  "...Correct, as usual."  He closed the file with a resigned swipe of a hand, and then turned back to me.  "It seems that the data supports your conclusion."
What conclusion?  I hadn't finished explaining it yet!He was pacing now, walking back and forth as he constructed a theory.  "The original code seems to have been written by one gifted individual.  Judging by how well it synergizes with the hardware, the writer was either the roboticist who created the drone design, or worked closely with them.
Since that time, two- my apologies, three- other, less gifted programmers have made modifications to the runtime image.  Virtually all of their code was concerned with adding functions- functions which require significant amounts of processing power, which the drones do not have, to perform.
If we strip out the altered code-", Jail said, stopping in his tracks to open a third file, and copy out all the non-highlighted code into it, "-all that is left is hardware control... and networked intelligence."
Sounds like he just proved my idea.  "In other words, the drones were never designed to operate on their own.  They're meant to work with something else."
Scaglietti smiled hungrily.  "Exactly."
**********
So here's how the drone thing works.
There were originally two models- the Mark I and the Mark III, though they weren't identified this way at the time.  The III is a full combatant, as seen near the very beginning of the fic.  The Mark I was created as a cheap, disposable force multiplier for it.  That's why they're so stupid- they're essentially bits or funnels from the Gundamverse... or the robotic equivalent of the autonomous drones the Blaster System in StrikerS uses.
Between penny-pinching, concerns about the loyalty of the Syndicate's pet scientist (none, if anybody's curious), and small minds making big decisions, the Mark I got a hack-job of a reprogramming- one sufficient to let clouds of them serve as a (nearly) credible military tool.  Mark III production is expensive, slow, and limited in scope, so something did have to be done... but that wasn't the right move.  As CD points out, the right move would be to smarten up the Mark Is... though cutting the combat bits out of the III and making a cheaper drone-control rig would've been another semi-effective option.
As for the Mark II, it's a compromise model.  Dumber and less powerful than the III, but cheaper and easier to make.  Essentially the MP model, to the III's ace custom.
Don't ask about the Mark IV.  Don't.

---

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.

[classicdrogn]

Only obvious in retrospect. I think - this is one of my main tricks in Mekton, but I still didn't consider it for a moment. Of course, adding even a low-rated AI (two skills, stat+skill of 8-10 where a PC with 8 EACH in the Reflex stat or primary combat skills is kinda gimpy) for solo operation to one of my drones would generally result in an effective unit, so the association isn't so obvious there either. (That's because I've never yet seen a skills list I didn't run down and go, "Ooh, that, and that, and that, gotta have that one, that, that..." so I'm used to building things that minimize penalties and stack on bonuses as much as possible, ending up with +0 to +2 where the example mecha have -5 to -8. Even when stuck with a crippling budget, -2 is the lowest "affects all rolls when using this unit" MV score I'll accept.)

I suppose that makes me the untrusted genius designer in this situation. I can't imagine why! Ah-hahaha! I'm just a simple mechanist, I have no ambitions for great riches or conquest! Ah-hahahah!
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows

[trantos]

I thought the Mark IVs were Belkan designs that Jail found on the cradle. They seemed like disposable stealth attackers more then anything else.

[Bluemage]

trantos wrote:

---

I thought the Mark IVs were Belkan designs that Jail found on the cradle. They seemed like disposable stealth attackers more then anything else.

You're talking about Jail's Gadget Drones.  The Type-4 gadget drone is precisely what you've said.
The M-Drone is an original, AU line of artificial, autonomous (for a varying level of 'autonomy') combat unit.  Similar concept, but a different combat model.
Gadgets are designed as combat cyborg support weapons, basically.  AMF, to remove mages' ability to fight without impeding cyborgs.  A light, dodgy/shooty drone, a dedicated air superiority drone, and a heavy ground combat drone... plus the old Belkan units that inspired them.
The basic M-Drone paradigm is more modeled off of mage combat.  You have the primary drones, which can fly, shield, and shoot like mages, and the secondary drones, which act as fire-support and flanking elements for the primaries.  They also help compensate for one of the weaknesses of the drone system- higher-leveled mages.  The Mark IIIs tend to top out well below Chrono in output, so you need to either deploy them in multiples or give them support to handle Enforcers at higher levels.
The Is and IIIs were also designed as prototypes/testbeds/funding generators for the Mark IV, which is why the scientist who designed them originally went to the Syndicate in the first place.

---

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.

[trantos]

Ah, gotcha.

[classicdrogn]

So what is a MkII?
--
"Anko, what you do in your free time is your own choice. Use it wisely. And if you do not use it wisely, make sure you thoroughly enjoy whatever unwise thing you are doing." - HymnOfRagnorok as Orochimaru at SpaceBattles
woot Med. Eng., verb, 1st & 3rd pers. prsnt. sg. know, knows

[Bluemage]

A stripped-down MkIII, born of the same sort of penny-pinching that produced the used of MkI drones as unaccompanied swarm combat units.  Basically, it's most of a III- the same drives, modestly cut-down weapons and shield projectors, someplace between half and 3/4 the processing power, and a noticeably stripped-down frame.  The IIIs look like statues of mages.  The IIs look all spindly- like a III if you took off the armor- and have their weapon/shield systems mounted to their elbows, like the Officer's Pod in original Macross/Robotech, or the Warhammer line of Battlemechs.
They're sizably more effective than Is, and much easier to produce than IIIs.  Cheaper, too.  They still need a swarm to be fully intelligent, but they tend to be smarter when they get one- or, if you run them as a small squad, three drones get you two independently-maneuvering drones and one idiot.  Much more useful that the Is, where three gets you one and two idiots.
Muse is nearly back at full capacity, though I had to catch up on what I lost earlier in the week.  I've had a crappy week since the 'con, too- must be karma catching up with me.
**********
I shook my head, confused.  Where's he going with this?  "I don't get it.  We've learned that the mind behind these drones is brilliant, and that the Syndicate doesn't fully trust him... but what good is that?  They've probably got him locked down in the most secure base they can build, so getting him out would be-"
His grin shifted into a mildly surprised expression.  "That's... not exactly what I had in mind, Imma- though I have to admit the idea has merit."
And here I thought I had it figured out.  "Then what-"
Scaglietti held up a hand, the other one already busy pulling up windows.  "Watch and learn, Imma.  Watch, and learn."  He whipped through three or four windows, occasionally checking details against the code, before finally opening some sort of line graph.  "Do you see this signal?"
Ah, so that's a transmission.  "Of course."
"The fools that altered the drones' code took their inspiration from existing protocols.  This is their implementation of a standard network device status query.  Broadcast this signal, and every single network within range will respond.  Not merely respond, but broadcast their current position, identifier, and numbers!"  He threw back his head, laughing hysterically for a couple of seconds.  "With this, we can locate every drone they have!"
...locate *every* drone?!  That's incredible!  We'll be able to find all their bases, even if... wait.  "Doc?  Not to interrupt your good mood... but won't that only work on active drones?"
Scaglietti didn't even blink.  "The Mark I M-Drone requires over five minutes to fully activate- but only thirty seconds to rouse from its standby mode.  Our opponents are not idiots, if only just.  They will have a rapid reaction force at every base... and since drones in standby still respond to network commands..."
I nodded.  So THAT'S his angle.  "We'll be able to find every base within range- using their very defenses.  I like it."
He turned back to the drone.  "As you should.  It will take some time to prepare the locator, so if you would..."  One hand came up, and waved me off towards the door.
"Of course."Got something to do, anyway.

---

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.

[Tennie]

If I'm reading right, it looks like those poor fools who comprise the Syndicate won't know what hit them until it's far too late...*Evil grin*

[Black Aeronaut]

Oooh. Those poor sorry fools. Their own distrust and cost-cutting is gonna bite them in the ass.

[Bluemage]

To be fair, they're actually *right* not to trust the doctor making their stuff, and the production bottleneck on Mark IIIs is pretty darn limiting.  Like, more than you're thinking right now.  They don't have the ability to make them fast enough.
That said, they went about dealing with both problems in exactly the wrong way.
**********

Wait.
My hand stopped, halfway to the door.  Do I really want to bother her with this?  It's not really all that important, so why should I waste Cinque's time with it?I thought about it a bit... and then snorted in derision.  It might be unimportant, but it's not like I'll manage to do anything about it on my own.  Better to get an outside opinion on it.Then I pushed the button.
...huh.  Not what I was expecting.
The door opened to reveal Cinque, curled up on a rather comfortable-looking couch with an honest-to-goodness dead-tree book in front of her, raptly focused on the text.  Where'd she get the book?  Strike that- where'd she get such a nice couch?!
I waited until she reached the end of a page, then knocked, very deliberately, three times on the open door next to me.  To her credit, Cinque didn't jump or startle- I would've, I'm sure- when she heard it; instead, she just sat up, picked up a bookmark from the side table next to her, and carefully closed the book around it, before turning her attention to me.
"Imma."  A flicker of concern.  "What happened?"Must've seen my indecision.  Polite niceties.  "Oh, it's nothing.  I just... didn't want to intrude, that's all."  I looked down at the book she was reading from.  That's a freaking work of art.  Leather cover, embossed design all over the back and spine of it, gilt-edged pages... wonder why she went to such trouble instead of getting a paperback or e-book?
"And yet you did."  Cinque frowned, but kept her eyes, sharp as ever, on me.  "That, and the fact that you came to my room in the first place, tells me that something's gone wrong."  She patted the empty spot next to her on the couch, and put on an inviting smile.  "Come.  Sit down, and tell me what happened."
Okay, that didn't work.  Guess I'll have to talk.  I did as requested, carefully settling myself down onto the nicely-appointed couch.  As I put my weight on it, the cushion let out a hssss of displaced air, letting me sink an inch or so... and becoming almost indecently comfortable.  First a beautiful book, then a ridiculously nice couch?  Girl's got good taste.It took me a few seconds to get my thoughts gathered, on track, and in order.
"I killed nine people today."Way to be blunt about it.
Cinque blinked in surprise.  "Really?"  She looked me over again, clearly checking for something.  "Forgive my surprise, but I thought you'd be taking it worse than this.  How did it happen?"
I sighed, leaning forward and resting my chin in my hands.  "Went on a mission.  Had to stop the Syndicate from making peace with another criminal group.  Only way to make it stick was to fake a betrayal, and the only way to do that involved killing the other delegation."  I shook my head, and threw myself backwards, letting my head tilt back and my arms sprawl out as I sank into the couch.  "Still can't think of a better way to go about it, but I feel..."
"Dirty?  Ill?"  I languidly turned my head, giving Cinque an incredulous look; she responded by averting her eyes, looking down at the couch as she fidgeted aimlessly.  "I took the liberty of researching the typical effect of killing on the human psyche.  Those were the most common symptoms noted."

---

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.

[Black Aeronaut]

.... I'm getting this hilarious mental imagery of Cinque sitting down in Lucy Van Pelt's psychiatry booth and Imma sitting down in front.

[robkelk]

Must've seen my indecision. Polite niceties. "Oh, it's nothing. I just... didn't want to intrude, that's all." I looked down at the book she was reading from. That's a freaking work of art. Leather cover, embossed design all over the back and spine of it, gilt-edged pages... wonder why she went to such trouble instead of getting a paperback or e-book?

Because there's only one Book of Darkness.

(Yes, I know - Imma isn't freaking out, so it isn't that book. But the description is vague enough that it fits...)
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[Bluemage]

It is hilarious, isn't it?  Seriously, though, sometimes you just need to talk about things, and there's nobody better around for that.  Anybody older is too conditioned and loyal to the doc, and anybody younger is either too immature, or Quattro (not that she's available to talk to).
Yeah, if it were that book, I'd've noted the cross on the cover.  *Malleus* would've noted the extreme magical power of an active and currently open BoD.  We both would've noticed the guardian knights, and I would be freaking out mentally over it.
In reality, it's just a very, very nice dead-tree book, modeled after a set my grandmother has.  They're almost too nice to read, but indisputably classy.
**********That's... an interesting amount of forethought.  "Oddly, no."  Her head snapped back up.  "I... thought I would- be sick, I mean."  I fidgeted a bit, idly worrying at the edge of my robe a bit.  "I thought I'd do what needed to be done, look up, see what happened, and throw up in the nearest bush."  Cinque snickered at that, for just a moment, before catching herself.
"...sorry.  The thought of you doing something like that... I just wasn't expecting it.  Continue."
Okay, I suppose that *was* funny.  "Turns out... nothing.  I wasn't sick to my stomach, or angry, or sad or panicked or even apathetic."  I paused for a second.  "Or happy.  Thankfully not happy.  I was just... kind of disappointed."
It looked like that sort of took Cinque for a loop.  "Disappointed?  But you- I mean-"  She stopped, took a breath, and tried again.  "I think I understand what you mean."  She put one hand on my shoulder, patting reassuringly.  "You should've been able to find a way around the necessity, shouldn't you?  You feel that you should've been able to save their lives?"
I flushed at that, but nodded.  "I remember what you told me, last time this came.  I KNOW I can't save everybody... but I keep asking myself.  Why did these people have to die?  Why did they have to be the ones?"
Cinque's eyes widened slightly at that... and then her whole expression changed.  I could see her mood shift, a level of uncomfortable uncertainty fading from her face like it'd never been there.  "Now that... that, I truly understand.  Tell me- did you do the best you could to achieve your objective?"
My objective?  Is that all she cares about?  "I got it done, didn't I?  I killed-"
"Not that objective."  Cinque's voice cut right through my defense, razor-sharp and unyielding.  "Preventing casualties.  Did you do everything within your power to accomplish the mission without causing any deaths?"
...oh.  "...sorry.  For assuming."
Cinque reached over, and patted my cheek reassuringly.  "Already forgiven.  Now, answer the question.  Did you do everything you could to find another way?"
I stopped.  Then, I thought about it for a bit... and sighed.  "Yes.  I went through every scenario I could imagine.  Accounted for every aspect of the situation, every possible response... and I couldn't do any better.  Not reliably, anyway- and for a mission like that one-"
"-it would have to be reliable.  I understand that all too well."  Cinque leaned back a bit, and smiled.  "I know what you need, Imma."
...huh?  "What I need?", I replied dumbly.  "I don't need anything now.  Whatever it is, I needed it a few hours ago."
Cinque's satisfied expression- the look of somebody who just solved a big problem- didn't waver.  "Yes, you needed it then.  You still need it... and you're going to need it for years to come."  She flicked her wrist, summoning a dagger from thin air.  "What you need is to go train.  Train yourself to the limits of your endurance- as hard as you can manage, for as long as it takes to exhaust you.  Then rest up, and do it all over again.  Trust me." 
The dagger went flying into a target- an image of an M-Drone, mounted on the far wall of the room.  "You need to distract yourself from what happened.  You need to wear yourself out, so that you can rest.  More importantly, you need to get better.  Saving everybody wasn't within your power, this time... so increase your power.  Become skilled enough to do so next time."  She paused, dismissing her dagger and inspecting the hole in the target.  "Hm.  One-sixteenth of an inch too high."  The next dagger landed right inside the same hole.  "Better.  There will be times when you're given tasks that are beyond your ability to complete.  It's unavoidable.  What matters-" she said, staring straight into my eyes, "-is that you raise your ability as high as you can.  The better you are, the less often this will happen.  Correct?"
As she explained, I found myself nodding along.  Logical.  Accept it, move on, and make sure it won't happen again.  "...yes, I think you are.  Not sure it'll be that easy, but it's worth a shot."  Not tired yet.  Not sure I could sleep if I was.  "In fact", I said, stroking my chin with one hand, "I think I'll go give that a try right now."

---

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.

[Black Aeronaut]

Cute lil bugger got right to the root of the matter. I'm gonna have to rewatch Strikers sometime.

[Bluemage]

Yes, she did.  Also, you won't find much characterization for the Numbers there.
What's there for Cinque is basically protectiveness towards her sisters- to the point of inspiring fighting spirit- and nothing else.  The Sound Stages give a bit more- a tendency towards quiet and formality (in the sense of decorum) out of battle- but still not much.  The rest of my characterization is part whole cloth, part my conceit that what you see in StrikerS is the Numbers in a combat mindset, ten years of Scaglietti and battle later... and part response to events that have happened since her awakening.
In other words, Jail is basically canon, Uno and Tre are canon plus a bit of depth, Quattro is mostly whole cloth, and Cinque and Sein are developed canon plus whole cloth.
I stopped it here because the next snippet is Sein's trip to the carnival.  Didn't feel right to start that today.
**********
Entry 51 (Day 885)
I slept well last night.  It's not the first night's sleep I've had in the last week or two- I've trained myself into unconsciousness a couple of times as of late- but it's the first time I really rested.About two weeks ago, I was sent out on a mission.  Disrupt a peace conference.  Make sure the two sides- one of them the Syndicate we're fighting- didn't come to an arrangement.
Well, I managed it.  Didn't just scuttle that meeting, either.  Uno tells me that hostilities haven't just resumed, but stepped up... and that the Syndicate has been forced to, quite literally, double their efforts in order to hold their ground.  The Prosperity Guild they were meeting with took the bait I left, and ran with it.  Probably made this war a whole lot shorter.
All I had to do was kill nine people.
Funny thing is, the actual act of ending their lives didn't really bother me.  The way I did it- crushing them with gravity, and then with a tidal wave- did.  So did the fact that I wasn't skilled enough to avoid killing them.  It's just... disappointing.
I told Cinque, and she suggested I train myself into the ground to deal with it.  Surprisingly enough, I think it's working.  The first day was sort of rough, what with how much focus it took not to belittle my lack of skill.  The second day was easier, and the third was easier still.  Eventually, I just fell into a habit of focusing on my training, and the problem just... receded, I suppose.  The guilt is still there, but it's not overpowering any more.
The training's showing dividends, too.  Tactical simulations focused on stealth and misdirection.  Accuracy drills.  Integrating Zero Shift into my combat style.  Optimizing spells for casting speed, instead of power or versatility.  Figuring out less flashy ways to do things.  Turns out this whole thing gave me the motivation I needed to complete this phase of Project Mosquito- and gave me an interesting idea, tentatively named Project Honeybee.  More on that never.
Man, I'm never going to be good at this.  Every time I think I've got it all figured out, some situation comes along and proves me wrong.

---

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.

[Bluemage]

"C'mon, Imma!  Hurry upppppppppp!"
I scowled at the door to my room (behind which lurked a Sein), and resumed stuffing my legs into a comfy pair of shorts.  "I'm hurrying!  I'm hurrying!  Just give me a few more minutes!"Why didn't she give me any warning?  I mean, Cinque let me know when we were leaving the day before, but Sein seemed to think that popping in, saying 'Time to go!', and dragging me through the floor was just fine.  What made her think that was a good idea?!
"If you're having a problem in there, maybe I should come in and help~," the horror outside the sang, the door distorting as she applied Deep Diver to it.  A hand, pointer finger extended, surfaced, the tiny camera in her finger focusing with a mechanical whirr... only to be met by an unfocused wall of blue light.
"YIPE!"  The arm retreated back into the door, freeing me up to slip on a pair of- well, not exactly tennis shoes, but the best approximation I'd found.  "That stung!  Meanie!"
That's an impressively audible pout.  "So's trying to peep on me," I retorted, as dryly as I could manage.  While she processed that, I quickly grabbed my shirt (returning Malleus to storage mode as I picked it up), slid it on, and grabbed my sun-visor.  Now dressed, I oh-so-carefully snuck my way over to the door, and stopped right at it.  If I know Sein, she should be just about to....
"What?  NO!  I wasn't trying to-"
So predictable.  I smacked the door control, revealing a red-faced Sein right outside of it.  "Then why did you stick your camera into my room... after I told you I needed to change clothes?"
She let out an "Eep!" of surprise, and backed away from the door.  "I wasn't trying to peep on you, Imma!  I just wanted to see how close you were to being ready!"
I just stared at her.  Did you even think about what you were doing?After a couple of seconds, Sein scratched the back of her head with one hand, laughing ruefully.  Thought so.  "Eheheh... maybe I didn't think that idea through."
I mock-scowled at her, hamming it up as best I could.  "You most certainly did not!"
Sein took one look at my scowly face, and immediately cracked up laughing.  "...sorry... Your face!... I can't-"  She doubled over, slowly sinking down to the floor, laughing all the way down.  Naturally, this had me scowling even harder- stop making fun of me!- which... wasn't exactly the most helpful thing I could've done.
It took her thirty seconds to calm down... and then she broke out giggling again as soon as she saw my face.

---

My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Brother Atom Bomb of Courteous Debate. Get yours.

I've been writing a bit.

[robkelk]

An exchange from Who Framed Roger Rabbit comes to mind:
Eddie Valiant: What do you see in him, anyway?
Jessica Rabbit (deadpan): He makes me laugh.

(But I never did completely stop the Imma/Sein shipping, even knowing they're adopted sister/brother...)
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

[Black Aeronaut]

Oh man, this had me cracking up. Especially how you describe her as a 'horror' just as she starts to use Deep Diver there.