1309/Wasteland Inquiries ft. C6 and Seft

Wasteland Inquiries ft. C6 and Seft
Date of Scene:	11 January 2015
Location:	Mojave Wasteland (NewVegas)
Synopsis:	Johnny and the Glitch Seft talk the Wastes and the Morality of Sapients
Cast of Characters:	32, Starbound Flotilla

---

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    It's a quiet night for Johnny, honestly. No major explosions on the Strip, the Khans have been behaving themselves, and the NCR is actually listening to reason for once and is backing out of Freeside to give the locals some room.

    Which has left the Courier up in his Glamorous Not-Rotating Cocktail Lounge, looking over his Duchy, sipping an Atomic Cocktail.
    It's his Faithful Cowboy Robot Vicotr that breaks the silence though, the uni-wheeled Securitron rolling up to the entrance of the bar. "You got a Robo-Princess at the door, Boss, she's lookin' for you. Don't keep a lady waitin'."

    A few blinks, and then John sits up, dusting off his shirt. "Sure sure, Victor, send her on in."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    Seft's left her armor off today, and come with a much nicer, more medieval noblewoman's getup. The robotic whirs she emits as she enters shouldn't be out of place around here, and ought to be fairly easy to recognize. "Polite. Hello, Mr. Tallbranch. I am hopeful that I've not caught you at a busy time." She steps into the office-of-sorts with a robotic sort of confidence.

    "Curious. I have compiled a small quantity of queries that I understand you may be qualified to answer. Alongside your capacity as a soldier, you seem quite well-learned." She's going to politely wait until invited to sit, but will speak up briefly either way. "Querying. Do you know of the history of this world?"

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    The cowboy robot's hat is tipped in the monitor in his chest. "Ma'am." And then the bodyguard rolls back out into the elevator and down to the front entrance.

    Johnny pulls out a chair, and chuckles. "Pleased. I'd be happy to answer some questions. Need anything to drink?" He shuffles over towards the bar and keeps talking.
    "And I guess you might have spotted some of that. I mean, the 'spaceman cowboy' stuff. I have to admit I'm probably... well, the foremost expert on the Old World sorta stuff here in Vegas at least. I had a bunch of... teachers, elsewhere."
    He refains from saying 'good teachers' about the Brain Tanks.

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    "Polite. Not required. I lack tasting apparatus. Metabolization is not a current priority." Seft says, giving a quick nod. "Sheepish. You have an awareness of fusion technologies that many humans here do not. Humble, certainly, but it is a merit you have." She takes a seat at the invitation and continues. "Factual. Your expertise will be valuable. My queries may be unproductive, but require satisfaction." She looks out at the view for a moment, her eye-visor displaying a little loading icon.

    "...Uneasy. I am sure that you have noticed the cultural incongruities inherent to my identity. I expect you may be unfamiliar with my race, the Glitch." Her eyes become a solid blue line in the visor for a moment. "Querying. I wish to understand the cause of humans here experiencing such cultural incongruities as the savagery we witnessed within the underground area, as the results are the same for the Glitch, but the cause for them is an impossibility for humans."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Johnny's eyes soften a bit, and he grumbles. "Well that's true. Fusion-tech is... better known among Vault-dwellers, but only ones that managed to get out both alive and with their sanity. And a lot of those fellows are dying off. The first vaults opening up were..."
    He sits across from Seft and smecks his lips. "Almost 120 years ago, 80 after the War." He cups at his glass and looks down at it. "Well. That second question is tougher. You got a lot of things going on. The War did things to people, and it's still being felt this long after. Of course, 'war' as a concept doesn't ever change. Ever. Just the methods. It broke a lot of spirits. It broke bodies and reason. People did... awful things to each other. Those poor souls down there... I can't explain that one, actually. but you got bandits, you got tribals who cut and burn and murder for their lot in life. And then you got civilized folks tryin' to make their way. I'm sure you saw the Strip. There's a lot of people tryin' to do right."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    "Confused. This is correct. I do not understand its persisting nature. It does not make logical sense for advancement to become so halted so severely, with such harshness." Seft says, tilting her head. A little processing hourglass can be seen, flipping and draining in her visor. "Clarifying. The Glitch are similar to your humanity. A vast Hivemind is responsible for the advancement of our race as a species. Approximately 5e7 years ago, it ceased to advance my iteration of Glitch society, and enforced non-advancement, due to failures in base parameters. However, it would be physically impossible for this to be the case for humanity."

    She looks fairly troubled, her eyes taking on an actually distressed look. "Distressed. Two hundred years of time. And your race still seems to have inclinations not dissimilar to those of mine. Merely more numerous Severed and Outcasts. I am attempting to discern why."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    There's a look from Johnny, and he blinks. "What, like one big brain for everyone. That's how you were made?" He rubs at his stubble, and then points a finger. "Well, part of that is human nature. Look at your George. I seen his type before. Mercenary. Ruthless. Seemed awful anxious to get in there and smash and grab that kit. But."
    He sighs. "Some got worse. Mutations, isolation, the experimentations of Vault-Tec, all that sorta stuff. You been around humans. Who do they usually react to awful, terrible shitty things? Now imagine that's been their entire life, or two generations of their life."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    "Clarifying. The Hivemind is complex and requires substantial socioprogramming knowledge to understand, but is ultimately irrelevant, as humans cannot sustain a similar network." Seft makes a few dismissing gestures as she speaks, and tries to swap subjects. "Frank. I have had limited exposure to humanity. My experience is that they are capable of great and intense brutality, but it is still..." She goes quiet, for a moment, her voal tones trailing off into a gentle flatline.

    "Certain. It still seemed as though there was a good future ahead of them, even in the face of such intense circumstances. Unlike other races such as the Florans, they seemed to be facing a sunrise instead of fleeing it." Her eyes flicker a bit, uncertainly. "Uneasy. Two hundred years of stagnation at this level implies things that trouble me."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Johnny sighs and takes a long pull of the cocktail, the shaker emptying out.
    "Look. What was in there... that was... hopefully an outlier. There's a whole lot of things that really don't get done like that anymore. Like I said, those were people who moved in to the Vault once everyone else was gone. You can tell a real Dweller, or one who knows one, with this."
    And he lays out the arm with the Pip-Boy on it, holding still so she can examine that device. "And stagnation is sorta... the radioation has done that. The War ruined nearly everything, and people have been putting civilisation back together since then. If you head west you end up with the New California Republic, which is about as... civil as you get these days, less you're with an active bunch of Vaulters."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    Seft seems to take a more positive posture. "Affirming. I understand. This is good to hear and know." She says, her eyes seeming to light up a little more intently. "Hopeful. The doom of the Glitch would be a brutal sight to see on any part of humanity. I will remain observant for those who hold such technology, with the hope that they will be more civilized."

    She seems to contemplate for a moment, that hourglass flipping away again. "Ponderous. I have concern for this world, but I will likely not stay. George has arranged for our ships to meet with a Flotilla being established by a Hylotl called Moonfin." Then she looks back in the direction that one-wheeled robot bodyguard went. "Sheepish. Additionally I am perhaps somewhat unsuited for this world. The machines here are unlike me." There's a firm sort of nod. "Determined. I will still attempt to fulfill my obligations, and seek what good I might do here, however. My original intent may have been to visit and leave just as quickly, but I was unaware that things were so similar to my home race, and potentially so compatible with change for the better."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    The courier grumps at that, and leans back in his chair. "Well, that's mighty generous of you, really. There ain't a lot of outsiders that seem to get what's going on here. I mean, you got folks like Staren who want to just fix everything and that's... it's admirable."
    A glance over at where Victor trundled off. "And you ain't that far removed, really. You're just fully intelligent. The other robots around here... Artificial intelligence is rare, owingto the lack of microprocessors. The only real AIs we got are the ZAX sorta things, and those take up mountainsides."
    The man looks at Seft, and sniffs. "Tell me what you want to do. I mean, besides the obvious. I figured you wasn't about to abandon those folks in the Nuka-Vault."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    Seft seems confused for a moment, her visor displaying "??????", when Johnny offers his explanation about why she's a rarity around here. And then, abruptly, her faceplate opens up, and displays... A braincase! It's a human-looking brain in a glass case, with an incredibly complex electromechanical apparatus connected to it. "Clarifying." She says. "It is best if I resolve this misunderstanding."

    Pop! Then it's shut right back up again. "Uncertain. 'Fix everything', that is unlikely. Encourage advancement? I am uncertain of how. Perhaps simply seek problems compatible with less barbaric solution." She fidgets a little. "Sheepish. 'Wing it'. Identify potential opportunities that may be compatible with my skills, assist those who will best benefit and who may help civilization advance in the way it is meant to, for humans."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Johnny... doesn't even blink at that. He lights up instead. "Oh man! Oh, I had that problem for a while myself! Those... mentors I was talking about pulled my brain out and lost it and that was a misadventure, let me tell you. But we do have stuff like you around. Hell, they cracked 6 of the best minds from before the war and put them in tanks like that... Then they went senile, but that's besides the point."
    The Courier shuffles a bit with his Pip-Boy, and looks up at Seft. "Look, I like what I'm hearing here, and I'd like to help. I'd like you to help too. So." He clicks a button, and there's a 'thump' under the table. The Curier reaches down and pulls out... a shortwave radio. Though it's a fancy looking shortwave. "Here. I figured you folks seem good with makin' stuff, so. This here radio is set to the frequencies we roll here in the Mojave. This will let you pick up signals from the NCR, from the Strip and from the folks out in the Wastes that know how to call people. Consider yourself deputized, if you like. There ain't a sheriff, but..."

    A grin. "You seem mighty capable."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    There's a firm nod from Seft. "Joking. I promise to leave your brain untouched. The misunderstanding appears to be resolved." She has a rather pleasant, good-natured look to her eye-visor now, even if she's still speaking in that monotone. She takes the radio, too, examining it for a moment before she begins fussing with it to slot it into an ear-pod apparatus on her head.

    "Affirming. I understand, I will listen for signals of situations that I might help with. Hopeful. I will ideally be able to bring the Flotilla's other members to assist as well, though some may be more out of place than myself." Then there's a deeper nod. "Grateful. Thank you. For your help before, and your help now. My mind is put more at ease."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Johnny gets up from the table. "One more thing. Ain't right for a girl to leave empty handed otherwise. So." He saunters over towards the bar, reaches up under therail, and pulls out... A chunky, slate grey ray gun of some sort. The end is a resonance chamber that crackles with green sparks of energy. "This here... is the REPCONN Model 227 light plasma rifle. Fires coherent blasts of energy, and is capable of... rather devestating effects. Runs on mircofusion cells, smaller versions of the ones you took from the Vault." He also produces a box of the cells from under the bar.

    That's right, miniature nuclear capacators.

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    "Grateful. It is not necessary, but if you believe it is best, I will gratefully accept it." Seft says, taking the gun, the box, examining each very closely, and then slipping them away into her Matter Manipulator, to her side, where they disappear in a brief flash of light. "Sheepish. My axe skills are admittedly a little ineffective on long-range combatants, and my own long-range combat options are... Embarrassing." She makes a soft buzz, that seems to be like clearing her throat.

    "Friendly. Thank you, Mr. Tallbranch, for all your assistance, and for your wisdom. With time, I hope that I can repay your help. However little George may have expressed it, he knows we owe you a great deal. Call on the Flotilla for any need you may, selfish or otherwise." She'll probably be heading out after that, their business here seems done for the most part.

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    The Courier laughs as Seft gets up, and he heads to the door with her. "Please. John or Johnny or whatever. Mr. Tallbranch is reserved for people who I'm actually the booss of." He grins and bows. "You keep an eye on George. Keep him out of trouble, if you can."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
    "Affirming. Of course. Johnny." There's a quick nod. Then she looks visibly uneasy, her eyes flashing back and forth a few times. "Uncomfortable. I will be keeping an eye on him. However, this is more for my benefit than his. Attempt to avoid excessive association with him." She doesn't seem very willing to explain more than that, and departs without too much more exchange.

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    And as the Glitch is shown the way out by the always charming Victor, Johnny slumps a bit agianst the wall, age showing for a second or two. And then he's back up and to it, rubbing at his face, and heading back to the bar. No more fizzy drinks tonight, old man.