Scene #8032: The Shadow of Robotropolis

Owner	Pose
Midway	This particular sector of the robot-occupied city of Robotropolis looks like a warzone. Eerily it closely resembles old war photos of European cities ravaged by bombers and heavy combat, structures collapsed in various states of ruin. Other sectors of the city are less the worse for wear; in better condition the further one looks from the epicenter. As if some great disaster erupted from the central Egg-shaped control tower and just blew out in one direction. Like a tornado, a giant robot... Or a Princess. Midway reclines upon a throne of rubble, slouched against one remaining wall of a collapsed structure with her eyes closed. Around her, the mangled remains of various SWATbots and COMbots. Small creatures scuttle about on stubby legs, rummaging through the wreckage and delivering their findings to other, larger and more bulbous creatures. Abyssal destroyers; scavenging and delivering to modified Abyssal light carriers; I-class and Nu-class respectively. Mostly gathering electronics that aren't too badly damaged while their mistress oversees the operation.
Staren	Staren rides her broom from the Thousand Freeholds warpgate, stopping atop a pile of scrap in the scrapyard outside town and looking through a pair of some kind of high-tech glasses to see the princess atop her ~~skull throne~~ rubble throne. Well, Staren wouldn't want to seem rude just staring from the distance. <"What are you doing?"> she radios, before toggling the glasses' zoom mode off and remounting her broom to approach.
Midway	The radio message immediately produces detectable activity amidst the Abyssals gathered. While they continue to mill about, rummaging for goodies, there's a serious spike in radio activity and radar. That ominous ping of sonar vibrates through the ground as well. Midway's eyes open, narrow cracks emitting shafts of crimson light through her lashes. Through the increased chatter from the fleet, which is all impossible nonsense and hissing or clicks, the Princess' voice radios in response, <"Whatever I please.">
Staren	Staren can't decode the chatter, but the increase in radio waves shows up on her sensors. She looks briefly more concerned, until it's clear no offensive response is forthcoming. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. <"That's not what I meant..."> She's coming into talking range, if she raises her voice a bit. "I just meant... why are you sitting on rubble having your..." now she's close enough to talk normally, alighting atop a section of standing wall that remains of the exploded steel refinery. "...dogs? dig around?"
Midway	"Destroyer. I-Class. High speed anti-submarine and convoy escort. Anti-air screening platform." Midway rattles this off almost boredly when the catgirl alights nearby. Her presence has agitated said creatures, most of which swing in her direction and bare weapons on their sides of from their mouths. Midway raises a hand, flicking her fingers dismissively. The I-Class squadron hesitates, glancing amidst themselves. They all know better than to question their Princess, though, and one by one return to their work while their mistress rises to her feet. "I did say I would examine whatever was capable of withstanding me, did I not?" Even perched on this section of wall only manages to put her at eye height with the abyssal, whose crimson eyes lock on the catgirl, "For now. Salvage. Further, more detailed examination of intact elements is pending. Such complex robotics might be of interest to my own developments."
Staren	> Destroyer. I-Class. High speed anti-submarine and convoy escort. Anti-air screening platform. Staren looks at one of them. "It appears to be-- woah." She steps back as the guns are aimed at her, taking a more defensive stance. Once they return to work she finishes, "They appear to be attempting to act as subterranes, at the moment." She smiles a little at her joke. She looks at Midway again and is taken aback by the eyes looking back at hers like that. "...They're weirdly elaborate. Those patrol bots were terrible, why go to the effort of making them human-shaped, with handheld guns? And those pods to fly around in?" She turns and drops off the other side of the wall, avoiding injury by slowing her fall with the grapple tag. She retracts it and picks up the head of a robotic fox, damaged in the explosion. "And why do the workers all have animal features? What kind of culture made this? ...I guess we should get Ishirou on some xenoarchaeology here..." She walks around the wall enough to look up at Midway. "Or have you encountered the city's makers yet?"
Midway	"My arrival was through the central water system," Her head tilts towards the egg-shaped control tower, "Which eventually brought me out there. A central command structure-- with no central commander." Her eyes close, arms folding, "The aesthetic design of the machinery is of no interest to me. The method of ambulation; armament; these are of interest to me." Those eyes open again and her resonant voice takes on an acidic edge, "The power systems in use for these machines is far too primitive to be of any interest to me. To that end, the energy core salvaged from Huffman Island would instead power any prospective prototype I choose to develop."
Staren	"Central water system..." Staren looks towards the tower. "Now there's a thought. Robots may need water for cooling, and cleaning... and the factories might use it for waste disposal... but if there are any organic denizens, the water system would have to be bringing them water for drinking, and maybe bathing and toilets."
Midway	Midway raises one hand, gesturing to the war-torn city sector, "Do you see any organic denizens, cat?" She turns her back to Staren, raising her hands, "Machines and manufacturing from latitude to latitude. The only organics you will find are within the pathetically inefficient power sources within these machines." She steps away several paces, crouching and plunging her hand into what's left of a COMbot's torso. The entire piece is lifted up and she uses her other hand to tear it away. The resulting ampoule, blue-tinted glass and covered in oily residues, is presented. It's quite large, only looking small in the hands of the Princess holding it. It might even be the size of the I-Class milling about around her, and she tosses it underhand towards the catgirl, "Take it if you like. Its existence offends me."
Staren	"I didn't see them, but I didn't search the whole city." She catches the ampoule. "What... is it?" Midway explains on the radio. "...Then if anything, isn't it incredible that it's enough power for the robots to run? I saw what those ones did. Not just moving and fighting, but electrified weapons and a stealth cloaking system..." She peers at the ampoule. "Either this is weak and the efficiency is impressive, or this is pretty powerful, right?"
Midway	The COMbot's shucked carcass is held out; dropped into the waiting maw of one of the Nu-Class transports. Retracting her hand, she holds it with the fingers curled upward, watching the oil drool down her hand and wrist, "It may suffice for a single human-scale robot, but have you forgotten the scale in which I work?" The rubble she had been resting on rumbles, then collapses away as her spherical parasite unburies itself. The mouth yawns wide open, as if it had just woken up. "This would never suffice for my needs. I find bioelectrics distasteful, regardless."
Staren	Staren zaps the item into her matter manipulator. "But the technology could be scaled up." The words are out of her mouth before she thinks better of helping Midway. "Why is that, anyway?" That she finds biolelectricity distatseful.
Midway	"Overhead," the Princess states simply, "Keeping the biota alive is an endeavor in its own right." She lowers her hand in a swift motion, splattering the oil into the ground at her feet, "A fuel bunker is a far simpler matter, by comparison. Even considering its protection from enemy fire. Surely you are at least vaguely versed in nautical engineering, given your vast array of fields."
Staren	"Mmh." Staren nods, thinking. And yet. Such is really used for these machines? Doesn't that show that it works? Further investigation is needed, although maaaaybe not around Midway. "I've some experience with a number of power systems, but not one like this. I usually use nuclear or batteries."
Midway	The I-class milling about have begun to wander further away from the pair. Eventually, one of them turns around and opens its mouth; unleashing a deep, bellowing honk that resonates off even distant buildings. Midway responds by raising her hand, making a dismissive gesture towards it. The entire flotilla starts roaming further abroad. "Nuclear," she repeats, though there is neither interest nor disdain in it. The resonance of her voice and the way she raises her hand to her spike-concealed chin in thought might be chilling. After a moment, she turns away and strides after her fleet, the parasite rolling after her at a matched pace.
Staren	Nuclear. Staren nods. "Micro-fission designs run solid-state for years before needing fuel replacement. It's good for low-maintenance uses where you don't want to count on having a power specialist have to open the thing up, for powering settlements or vehicles..." Oh, Midway's going away now. "Uh, bye I guess..." Staren turns to look over the rubble. More investigation is due for those workerbots...