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.
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.