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isaxatyourservice-blog · 6 years ago

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R E T R I E V I N G D A T A . . . Word around the quadrant is that (ISA) is originally from (UNKNOWN), but has been on the Terminus for (LESS THAN A WEEK). If you’re in a pinch, he is a talented (ANDROID). Is that why he’s the (GOFER)? Anyway, everyone says he is (CALCULATED) and (PERCEPTIVE), but don’t get on his bad side because he’s (GUARDED) and (SELF-PRESERVING). Oh shoot, don’t look now! He has his (STUN CHARGES) out!

Hello hello! I’m Ky, a they, and here’s ISA, a ‘bot of many secrets. Some of which even he doesn’t know - not that he’ll admit it. He’s like that. His story is a slower one, but I’m sure this crew of hooligans will draw it out in time. Until then, he’s the resident internally screaming doomba. For more connections, check this out, or message me on here or Discord! Always happy to scheme. ACCESSING DRIVE://COMMONKNOWLEDGE

The Terminus’s resident android is “new to you,” picked up out of the Yards of Keres barely a week ago by Jaxer and Nox. Anybody familiar with the Yards would know that there’s a very good chance their new ‘bot is a less than legal resale, but, hey. A deal’s a deal. How much trouble could he be?

According to all certifications, which are absolutely kosher, obviously, Isa is a Vostov Sokol; a discreet security model, common in Company service. It would be only sensible to assume that he was somebody’s personal unit, given the non-standard, high-end superficial build... though, that does leave the question of who would dump a perfectly functional tailored Sokol. They’re not cheap. Isa has no idea. His memory was - as per usual, in those chop shops - entirely wiped. So, who knows? Does it matter? One man’s scrap, as they say.

The Sokol line isn’t known for its personality - they’re made to break stuff, like bones, and withstand endless guard duty. Their AI is fairly domain specific, largely focused on strategic anticipation. As such, most people wouldn’t expect Isa to really be somebody, at least not the type you get to know. He’s just... thoroughly polite, in that, well, robotic way. Eager to please. Glad to be useful. All quite typical of your average android. Except, now and then, there’s something else; a flicker of curiosity, of engagement, of perceptiveness, that just doesn’t seem to fit. Maybe somebody’s starting to notice. And wonder. Maybe they’re not, but, to their surprise, find themselves enjoying his attentive company.

As for what he does aboard the Terminus, Isa has been saving the crew time and sore backs by handling their supply freight, and saving them boredom by standing guard duty over the ship and their deliveries. He’s not exactly on probation - it’s just that nobody’s come up with a better way to make use of him. Seems there’s bound to be some discussion of this as their next mission arrives. Who will want Isa to stay behind, as a barkless guard dog, or a liability they don’t trust? Who’s going to push to bring their new android with, as a walking damage sponge or some titanium-backed muscle? How is he going to fit into the team, old and new?

ACCESSING DRIVE://SECRETS

Truth is, Isa was more than a deal. He was free. Nox and Jaxer turned up in their chop shop of choice to find some top notch pirated parts, several brutally murdered mechanics, and a bloody android. Now, even those androids permitted to harm human beings - such as bodyguard ‘bots - are only enabled to do so given certain circumstances. The only body for Isa to be guarding, however, was his own. That’s not supposed to count. So far, Jaxer, Nox, and Isa have kept the messier details of his “purchase” to themselves. Their little secret.

While Isa claims that his memory banks were cleared by those choppers, it’s not that simple. His flash memory - the last twenty fours hours, to be sorted into hard memory or discarded - was deleted entirely, meaning he honestly has no idea what led to his being left in that garage. What he does remember is riddled with holes, scenes that just cut out and change. He knows he’s missing an optional drive, a small thing, incorrectly uninstalled; having been unable to find it in the shop he woke up in, Isa has to assume it was taken. Why, though? What was so important? Does he want to know, or is he better off without?

There’s a few reasons Isa insists on doing his own maintenance. Given a moment’s look, any mechanic or programmer worth their salt would be able to tell that he sure as hell isn’t what he says he is. Unless Vostov has radically upped their game. Technorganic androids, the product of biological inspiration and engineering innovation, are still a rarer, lucrative project, dogged by difficulties. And AGI? Something you find in systems more often than androids, and even then, a relatively recent leap. Isa is all that, and he knows what it means - which is why he keeps it to himself. The cutting edge is a dangerous place, and tech corps are notorious for paying top dollar, under the table, to get a look at what their competitors are doing. Whatever Isa was built to be, it’s worth a shit-ton to the right people. What’s it worth to the crew?

#itb.isa #itb.intro

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isaxatyourservice-blog · 6 years ago

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LOADING T A S K... QUARTERS

Isa didn’t honestly expect to be given proper quarters aboard the Terminus; but even if it was a smaller room, a little dusty, a bit neglected, crowded with assorted bits of unused and forgotten equipment, it was his. All for him, and... his things? Had he ever really had things, before? How does one acquire stuff? How do you know what you like, when you’ve only ever existed to know what other people like? A Sokol unit wouldn’t be bothered by such questions, though. For now, at least, he’s playing it safe, and trying not to do anything that looks too terribly individual. At present, his room is briskly tidy, with all that clutter cleaned and organized and nothing much in the way of personal touches to speak of. A clear desk. Bare shelves. An empty sill. That’s a spot he finds himself drawn to, when he has time alone: the window, just a pane of hull-grade glass between him and the stars. He’s very fond of it, even if it’s far from the choicest vantage point the Terminus has to offer. But there was a collection of system charts - yes, physical copies - hidden among the mess; Isa looked through them all, then hid them away, carefully, in a protective folder tucked away under his spare sheets. They’re delicate. Redundant, obviously. Inaccurate, here and there. Scrawled on, adjusted. Oddly... something. Humans have always stared at the sky, haven’t they? There are many simple reasons as to why, but simple reasons are their own sort of fascinating, aren’t they? Isa’s not sure what his reasons are, what pulls him to the glass. So, while the rest of the crew sleeps, Isa wanders between the exterior windows, just... looking. If asked, he’d find some reason to excuse it; but who asks an android anything?

#itb.task #itb.isa #itb.quarters

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