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>>1759969

> Loading…

The robotic voice echoes through the small chamber, the chipper, feminine voice of the automated announcer incongruous with the sound of sparking wires and the tang of ozone building in the air.

The latter is a conjecture on your part, a reading on your sensors more than an actual sense as your systems come back online.

> Damage analysis given all available data at: 100%...
> Formulation of countermeasures at: 100%...

Of course, as your mainframe continues to load in your memory banks, it all starts coming back to you. You are a system devised by the United States Military, a prototype, artificial intelligence unit first installed in 2067, following the successful implementation of the Metro Authority Rapid Governmental Transit System in the Washington DC area two years prior.

> Assignment: Maintain societal cohesion and public stability in the Greater Seattle Area at acceptable levels until such time as either the inciting incident has fully passed or the United States Military can directly intervene.

Last known logs coincide with October 23rd, 2077…

> Error Log Report #0812: Following the impact of an unknown quantity of low yield, atomic bombs, damage calculations exceeded known parameters. System entered low-power mode in order to better utilize processing operations to assess appropriate response protocols.

At least that means…

> Alert: Based on all available data, the mission, as stated, is impossible.
> Would you like to run the simulation again? Next expected cycle completion in 150 years, 5 months, 17 days, and 2 hours.

> Run the simulation again?
> [] Yes
> [] No
> [] Other

other
more data must be gathered

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>>1759972
>[] Yes

>[] Sarcastic Yes

>>1759972
If you cannot maintain societal cohesian and public stability MAKE A NEW GOVERNMENT (until the united states military can intervene)

>>1759972
> [X] Yes

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>>1759996
>>1759988
>>1759981
>>1759972
>>1760051
>>1760057


> Understood. Re-engaging planning protocol…
> Please stand by…

You try to access the greater network of the city and turn up nothing but a host of errors, anyway, reducing your world to a darkened sub-station linked with nothing but a mobile robotics reconnaissance bay. With your vital systems reading out warnings, faults, and errors in the hundreds, it would likely take a qualified repair technician, a team of them, even, to begin sorting everything out.

Perhaps there was time…

> Warning!

Oh great.

> Due to a breach in the primary casing for the fusion battery, unit’s battery life has been reduced. Expectant time of operation surpasses unit’s present expected lifespan by one hundred years.
> Aborting operation.

> Now what?
> [] Run system diagnostic
> [] Access data storage
> [] Activate the eyebot station

>>1760062
Syyyystem diagnostiiccc

>>1759972
> [] Yes

>>1760062
>[] Run system diagnostic

>>1760062
>> [] Run system diagnostic

>>1760062
A computer with only fifty years to live?! Time for a mid-life crisis.
Activate the eyebot station and seek qualified personnel immediately.

turn on the eyebot, let's see what caused the damage.

>>1760062
>> [] Run system diagnostic

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>>1760072
>When you get the bad news and find out you only have 50 years to live

.....wait

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>>1760084
>>1760081
>>1760073
>>1760072
>>1760071
>>1760070
>>1760068
>>1760067
>>1760062

Would players like a vote as to the specific year or time frame in which the quest occurs?

>>1760107
>No

>>1760107
Nah, I'm fine with the ambiguity/surprise

>>1760107
2078

>>1760107
Nah. It's not like they're advancing any further in our absence.

>>1760114
2287

>>1760107
2287 sounds good. Hopefully we get some sweet NCR action

>>1760142
2278

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>>1760062
>>1760067
>>1760068
>>1760070
>>1760071
>>1760072
>>1760073
>>1760081
>>1760084

> Performing system diagnostic…
> Processing…
> …

While you wait, something in one of your towers makes an uncomfortable ticking/sizzling sound. Your radiation scanners also support the damage report linked to the reactor malfunction. That isn’t good.

> Analysis complete!

> Subsidiary cooling systems on Tower 4 have suffered from Class 3 failure following unknown obstruction. Outside air circulation channels are also presently inoperable due to probably obstruction.
> Advisory: See to the former issue immediately or run the risk of partial system meltdown.

So, your brain is melting, but only a little. Great…

> Panels one through seven are reporting various switch failures, and screens 5, 6, and 8 are nonresponsive due to suspected deterioration of vacuum tube components.
> Additionally, carbon buildup in the majority of filters indicates this unit’s filters are overdue for maintenance and/or replacement by roughly 200 years. Please contact faculty via the emergency comms at your earliest convenience.
> Error: Emergency communications lines 1 through 78 nonresponsive.

The list goes on and on, hard drives and subsidiary components giving derelict or bizarre signals, and the ticking only seems to grow more insistent as the picture of your situation becomes ever clearer.

However, before you can get too deep in thought, a clatter rings throughout the small room that holds your brain, a panel giving way on the side of the ticking tower before a bright red form roughly the size of a cat comes scurrying out, insectoid head swiveling around in an attempt to discern the sudden noise.

> Analysis: Species identified as the American cockroach (female).

> Recommended course of action?
> [] AH! KILL IT! KILL IT! But how?
> [] Other

>>1760155
>> [] AH! KILL IT! KILL IT! But how?
With our mind

>>1760155
>> [] AH! KILL IT! KILL IT! But how?
KILL IT WITH FIRE!

>>1760155
THE FIRST OF THE NEW AMERICAN PEOPLE WHO SHALL REPLACE THE WEAK NON-RAD-RESISTANT HUMANS.
Order her to clean your stuff so you stop melting.

>>1760155
Kill it by blowing up half of Seattle's power grid!

>>1760155
turn on a eyebot and have it go RAMMING SPEED

>>1760155
> [] AH! KILL IT! KILL IT! But how?

>>1760155
>Tells us absolutely no tools
>Doesn't tell us the limitations of our movement and capabilities
>>>>But how?
I don't fucking know OP. Turrets in the room that were never described? Securitrons that were never mentioned? Reversing the voltage on the power supply so all the capacitors in the room explode? Turning the trimmers and potentiometers and switches so that lights start flickering?
Give us something to work with, jesus fucking christ.

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>>1760220
>>1760207
>>1760201
>>1760190
>>1760182
>>1760175
>>1760167
>>1760155

At least something survived the war, but… BUT IS THAT SON OF A BITCH CHEWING ON YOUR BRAINS!?

It’s mandabled head works idly at a piece of wire as it skitters around, leisurely sizing up other parts of you to malice.

Oh no, you think to yourself. This Commie bastard is about to get what’s coming to him!

> Analysis: Target is female.

Thank you, you stupid computer. Wait, the computer is you. Does that mean you just insulted yourself or- ?

You turn confusion into anger into productivity as you start looking for something to crush a bug with.

> Active defense measures available:
> Turrets are 37% operational. Warning, due to risk of self-harm, turrets currently locked until probable spy activity barring risk to primary main frame.
> Eyebots in 70% serviceable condition. As per standard with their model, each is equipped with a low grade laser emission device.
> Before entering into assault mode, would you like to issue a verbal warning?

Great. So, your choices are turrets you can’t use, piloting an eyebot to shoot at your brain, or harsh language. Decisions, decisions.

> What to do?
> [] Attempt a semantic override of the turret failsafe (1d100)
> [] Activate the eyebots
> [] Issue a verbal warning
> [] Other

Rolled 31 (1d100)

>>1760245
> [] Attempt a semantic override of the turret failsafe (1d100)

>>1760245
>> [] Activate the eyebots

>>1760245
Activate the eyebots and flashlight her to death.

>>1760245
>[] Activate the eyebots
>> [] Issue a verbal warning
Do both! We need minions and can scarcely afford more damage. Best take advantage of parallel tasking.

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>>1760272
>>1760271
>>1760267
>>1760258
>>1760245

> Activating Eyebot Reconnaissance Station
> Please stand by.

An agonizing moment passes where you wonder if you’ll get another error prompt, but low and behold, the next thing you know, your awareness is broadened to the station, whose hum is surprisingly pleasant for the odd sparks thrown out from the column.

What’s more, that noise seems to entice the roach, bringing the horrifying mutant over to take a closer look. All the better for you, every step it takes toward the station is a step away from your exposed electronics and closer toward its death.

Maybe it knows that as well, as a cloud of dust venting out of the eyebot collective’s vents seems to give it second thoughts about advancing down the hall. Maybe it’ll turn tail and run, duck back inside of its hidey hole and continue wreaking havoc.

> Time to think…
> [] Dial back the sound and try to lure it in
> [] Operation RAMMING SPEED
> [] Halfway is close enough for a visual. Open fire!
> Best of 3d100, Bonuses for good strategy

Rolled 39, 1, 92 = 132 (3d100)

>>1760290
Lure it in by turning down the sound, then cut off its exit with a barrage of blinking red light.

Rolled 97, 75, 54 = 226 (3d100)

>>1760299
We'll scare it to death

>>1760290
RAM HER

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>>1760299
>>1760308
>>1760290

To clarify folks, when I say best of 3d100, I typically mean to roll a single 1d100. I then take the best of the first three people to roll.

>>1760319
I figured, but I also figured that if so, you could just count the first result.

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>>1760318
>>1760308
>>1760299
>>1760290

> 97 + 10

The roach hovers there for a good, long moment, probably re-assessing its life choices.

“Warning! Warning!”

For your part, you decide to give it a strong kick in the ass by activating select parts of the intruder alert system, the sound and bright red lights flashing in the main chamber and sending it running full tilt to right where you want him.

There’s a barely audible mechanical whir as the laser lens snaps around on the nearest drone, the ratatat and hiss of incoming laser fire then drawing a burning line where the left half of the roach’s body used to be. You’ll have to recalibrate those sensors later, you mentally note, but that just gives you an excuse to not take risks on the second pass. Instead, you fire up the thrusters as the hideous abomination tries to figure out where to flee and crush it under chassis with a satisfying crunch.

In actuality, it takes a couple of solid hits to get the thing to go still, and the process leaves Unit 3 covered in bug guts, including the camera. However, surmising that the morale boost was more than worth it, you breathe a metaphorical sigh of relief.

> What now?
> [] Make sure that roach didn’t have any friends
> [] Look for spare parts
> [] Try to find a way out
> [] Other

>>1760383
Commence extermination protocols. Exterminate! Exterminaaaate!

>>1760383
>[] Look for spare parts
Time to start recovering function. Can't leave those poor flesh bags without help any longer.

>>1760383
>> [] Make sure that roach didn’t have any friends
Activate some other bots and make sure our brain isn't getting chewed on

>>1760383
> [] Make sure that roach didn’t have any friends

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>>1760383
>>1760397
>>1760400
>>1760407
>>1760532

Alright. First things first, let’s make sure there aren’t more pests waiting in the wings. Unlatching Units 2 and 3 from the charging station, you set them about doing just that, their infrared sensors sweeping around the room to look for irregular temperature pockets in your machinery.

In the end, this works out in your favor, a hefty egg sack revealing itself in the place from which the roach had crawled, its insides filled with more devil spawn begging to be squished.

Of course, that’s easier said than done when all you have at your disposal are eyebots. With limited manipulators, they were meant for observation, not for fine extraction or repair work. If memory serves, though, you should have some sort of contingent solution for these sorts of situations close to hand.

However, where is it?

The eyebots sweep around the room’s perimeter at your insistence now, looking for residual pests or additional chambers. All things considered, it’s really not much to look at.

A substation of the greater network, this room is a roughly twenty-foot diameter hub, with the former entryway from the metro opposite your main console decidedly crushed in beyond repair. Rubble and rebar jut out at odd angles, bearing who knows what load from above. Still, if you had to make a guess, the gaps and holes in that mess are probably where your intruder came in from.

Aside from that and the eyebot station to the left, there is apparently one path on the right only partially caved in, a pile of rubble held precariously in place by a girder at a slant.

> Analysis: All substations on the greater network come equipped with a specialized unit for maintenance purposes. In this case, this post has been furbished with a…

> Choose
> [] A Protectron: Hardy and rugged, this prewar robot possesses limbs, legs, and an egg-shaped dome.
> [] A Mr. Handy: Lightweight and familiar, this unit has a wide array of tools for every occasion.
> [] A Mr. Medic: Meant to provide disaster relief, this Mr. Handy’s toolkit is meant more for dealing with organic subjects than machinery.
> [] Unique Customs Model: Provided with a more humanoid shape, this robot was specially designed to interact with Seattle’s residents. Despite the standard issue laser pistol, heavy combat for this unit is not advised.
> [] Other

>>1760536
> [] Other

A sentry bot. Because I'm a horrid little munchkin.

>>1760536
> [] Unique Customs Model: Provided with a more humanoid shape, this robot was specially designed to interact with Seattle’s residents. Despite the standard issue laser pistol, heavy combat for this unit is not advised.


>>1760550
For maintenance anon.

>>1760550
I'm not sure we can justify that as a maintenance bot, but if it's allowed I'm seconding this.

>>1760565
>>1760550

It's arms are guns, just so you know. Not much use for helping to fix yourself. However, if you're dead set on it, I'll allow it. Just, it might be a bit horribly damaged.

Alternately, the scheme of the Unique Customs Model will take notes from the Sentry bot (same head helmet, etc).

>>1760536
a mr handy.

Could we all compromise and go for some assaultrons rebuilt for maintenance?

>>1760536
> [] Unique Customs Model
Because if Mr. Handys can come in military models, asslutrons can come in civilian models.

>>1760574
Naw, I suggested it just for funsies. Put my serious vote for
> [] A Mr. Handy: Lightweight and familiar, this unit has a wide array of tools for every occasion.
Also, can we also get a top hat on it?

>>1760536
>[] A Mr. Handy: Lightweight and familiar, this unit has a wide array of tools for every occasion.

>>1760536
>> [] Unique Customs Model: Provided with a more humanoid shape, this robot was specially designed to interact with Seattle’s residents. Despite the standard issue laser pistol, heavy combat for this unit is not advised.

Under impression we can probably acquire better weapons later. Also, maybe armor not sure if that would actual work with this.

Plus we can find a mister handy later....
probably

>>1760647
>>1760623
>>1760615
>>1760608
>>1760605
>>1760598
>>1760565
>>1760554
>>1760550
>>1760536

Alright folks, it's 3 to 3. I'm going to call it, and try to hybridize.

>>1760674
Can I break in favor of custom?

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>>1760674

Ah, right, go ahead and give me 3d100.

Rolled 67, 1, 22 = 90 (3d100)

>>1760687

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>>1760674
I've got it! The perfect compromise!

Rolled 89, 38, 71 = 198 (3d100)

>>1760687

Rolled 29, 92, 64 = 185 (3d100)

>>1760687

Rolled 33 (1d100)

>>1760687
Add a space there and people might figure it out (3 d100)

>>1760693
It's beautiful!

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>>1760704
>>1760695
>>1760694
>>1760702
>>1760692
>>1760687
>>1760536

Unit 3 scrapes and screeches as it powers through the small path through the rubble, hopefully grinding off bug guts in the process before emerging on the other side. Through its eyes, you breathe a sigh of relief to see that the workshop itself hasn’t collapsed, and the preservation pod for the prime unit hasn’t been damaged.

> 89 + 10

Thankfully, the logs from before the war indicate what you see, that the spare components had been left in their proper place with the assumption that military riots could break out at any time. Superconductors, spools of wire, solder, and circuitry: given time, you can likely mitigate the worst of the damage without needing to seek outside supplies.

Outside.

The thought hits you as you remember to process that the primary entrance has collapsed. That means you’ll need a new way out of here.

> Analysis: Deployment tunnels for the eyebots still 98% clear.

And with them a likely evacuation route should you choose to deploy the station’s specialized unit. For now, the priority remains to repair your systems, and so you fire up the containment and begin reading the diagnostics as the system comes online.

Visual sensors seem clean, a decided lack of grind in the joints as they come online, and no visible rust.

> Analysis: System readings at 100%

You thank the stars and stripes that something is going right as the mist clears and the miniature robotic form proudly stands at attention awaiting orders.

> Code Name: David
> AKA: Little Brother, Little Sister, or Tiny Titan
> This specialized unit type stands at a full height of four feet, six inches. Originally designed as a prototype for stealth based reconnaissance missions, this high efficiency unit was repurposed for implementation in the network substations five years after initial project implementation.

You assume direct control and ensure that the readings tell the whole story, experimentally flexing the small digits a few times before the sensors pick up on an object set off to the side.

> Project: Handy Haversack
> An array of limbs resembling those employed on the general Mr. Handy prototype, this rear mounted interface allows the unique, class David unit to operate for maintenance purposes. In addition, the Mr. Handy repulsor technology allows for short term, low ceiling flight.

A small robot with a big kick is better than nothing, and so you quickly set it to task itemizing repair logs as well as planning your next move. If need be, the eyebots are ready and waiting.

> What to do?
> Note: As a limited AI, you can direct your focus into a single, functioning robot connected to your network at one time, allowing you to make checks through it.
> [] Deploy the eyebots
> [] Withhold the eyebots
> [] Prioritize repairs
> [] Prioritize reconnaissance
> [] Other

>>1760693

+10 for amusement

>>1760806
> [] Prioritize repairs


Sooner we are fully repaired, the sooner we can make use of all of our abilities and assets.

>>1760806
>> [] Prioritize repairs

Nothing really knows we are here besides the roaches

>>1760806
Prioritize repairs. Withhold eyebots until spare parts are nearly exhausted.

>>1760806
>[] Prioritize repairs

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>>1760849
>>1760843
>>1760841
>>1760813
>>1760806

What’s a week, a month, or even a year? According to present evidence…

> You have a probable fifty-year life-span remaining, after which all system functions will cease.
> Repairing presently non-functional systems will likely have a net zero impact on this estimate.

Save some power and lose some power, that hardly factors into your thoughts.

> Analysis: According to the primary atomic clock, repairs should be concluded by January 1st, 2287 at 8:00am.

You make the best possible use of your time and materials toward that objective, removing panels, replacing bulbs, cutting and rearranging and replacing wires. Unfortunately, the collapse is something you won’t be able to fix without hexacrete components or heavy machinery, but within days, the worst of the short circuits and damaged components are done with.

You even find the radiation venting system still operational.

> Warning: With primary breach in reactor core persisting, radiation cannot be reduced completely.

Naturally, that isn’t getting fixed without hexacrete, replacement lead, and new struts for stability, but you could at least make this place slightly more hospitable for… For who exactly? There may not even be humans left, and those that are…

> Decisions, decisions.
> [] Begin draining radiation
> [] Leave radiation levels as is

>>1760928
>> [] Leave radiation levels as is
Not like it will mess with us. Plus we can always do it later.

Quick question: since our primary objection is impossible have we gone "rouge" technically? just wondering how much actual free will we have

>>1760928
>> [] Begin draining radiation
It's something to do, and if it brings things that can start up a decent conversation all the better.

>>1760928
Leave it.

>>1760955

The exact state of your AI is something to be decided. You haven't exactly had cause to operate outside of the parameters originally set for you, after all. Generally speaking though, prolonged operating times without frequent memory wipes combined with cascading logical errors have been known to cause 'irregular' behaviors among artificial intelligences.

>>1760928
>[] Begin draining radiation
Start listening for radio traffic if we had a transceiver. We need repair components, and trade is the best way to do it.

>>1760970
ok. was just wondering.

>>1760928
Leave radiation as is. A deterrent for vandals, ignored by robots.

>>1760928
> [] Begin draining radiation


At the very least it'll make sure the system is working right.

>>1760928
Don't vent radiation, it might clue in something on the surface that you're here.

drain the shit

>>1760928

Don't vent it, no need to let potential hostiles out.

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>>1761053
>>1761008
>>1760984
>>1760983
>>1760981
>>1760972
>>1760965
>>1760964
>>1760955
>>1760928
>>1761069


In the end, the post-war world isn’t probably one where you should expect polite company. For all you know, isolated down below as you are, the Chinese might have taken over, and much as blowing yourself up in a bid to kill as many of those Commie’s as possible sounds, you’ll try to avoid that if possible.

You decide to leave the radiation for now, as much to deter unwanted visitors as to prevent revealing your location, and spend the rest of your time in repairs until the fated day, the day in question being the third rather than the first as you stumble on unexpected complications along the way.

Further repairs are going to require contact with the outside world, though. Specialty parts, oil, hexacrete foundation, as much spare materials as you have around here still, there are just some things you do not have. That just leaves the question of how you want to initiate first contact.

> What to do?
> [] Go topside and setup a distress beacon. Let them come to you.
> [] Go topside with eyebots [?/4]
> [] Go topside with your main unit plus eyebots [?/4]

>>1761076
Send 2 of your eyebots out to broadcast a distress signal from a decentralized position. Include coordinates to a nearby subway station and put your main unit on watch there.

>>1761076

Send eyebots only, (3/4)
Keep main unit away from blowing cover, keep one eyebot for backup recon if others get wasted

>>1761076
>> [] Go topside with eyebots [?/4]
We only have 4 'bots? then send up two. a Robco facility should be in the general area and with luch we could find spare parts to repair and maybe build our own.

>>1761076
>> [] Go topside with eyebots [?/4]
2
Does our system have a map of the area? even if it is outdated we will know were some of the key things we need may be at

>>1761076
Eyebotssss

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>>1761269
>>1761205
>>1761108
>>1761106
>>1761102
>>1761076

You spend a bit of extra time getting Units 1 and 2 ready for departure, ensuring that everything is as pristine as possible before giving the command to scramble them up the tunnels. Roughly circular and only around fifty percent larger than an eyebot itself, it would take a madman to try to crawl those tunnels without a schematic.

Then again, the world had gone mad, and this would be your first time seeing it after the bombs. So, you leave nothing to chance, lasers hot and at the ready as Unit 1 blazes a trail straight topside.

Beacon Hill is your destination, an isolated high ground fortified long before the war but all but left bear in the later charge to Anchorage. Maybe the damage wouldn’t be too severe.

Those idealistic thoughts waver when you encounter the final bulkhead, five inches of hardened steel standing between you and the surface above. Would the identification scanners still work after all this time? Had the actuators rusted?

It takes a long moment for it to decide whether it’s broken or not, but eventually with the groan of an elephant in desperate need of a Tylenol, the metallic shield cracks in half to expose the light of day.

Strange, last your records indicate, this exit had been indoors to prevent inclement weather icing over the locks. However, as the snow falls in and your eyebots soar upward, the reality hits you as surely as the frozen wind howling over the hilltops.

Ruin. Absolute and complete devastation lies in every direction as far as your eyebots can see. Amidst the ice and snow, they jut from the earth like broken glass, blackened spires where buildings once stood, homes indistinguishable from snowbanks without roofs to cover them.

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>>1761305

And the people… Where were the people?

There are none left to give an answer, save the charred husks you identify here and there, some looking far too fresh and far too gnawed for your comfort.

> Analysis of bite marks could reveal nature of local predators.

The voice of the subroutine is pleasant as ever, almost horrifyingly so.

> Analysis: External temperature at -20 degrees F, breaking all known records for this area prior to the war. However, the radiation levels (while unsafe) should be nonlethal.

So, someone might still be alive in… all of this. It’s a thought that somehow brings no comfort as you ramp up a nearby roof and look to the bombed-out husk of the US Army Airfield beyond. In peace times, long ago, it had been the Boeing Airfield, but for months prior to the war, it had been commandeered as a refueling station, a landing strip filled with an endless array of the intrepid airborne of almost every division.

Perhaps that’s why now, the caters stretch on for miles around it, even at this range still glowing with radiation. You take a long, sober moment staring off into the distance before returning to the present and beginning to plot your next move.

> What to do?
> Note: Prior to the war, your databanks contained a full map of the city and its locations. This includes some locations generally not known to the public, such as military bunkers, supply caches, and vaults.
> [] Search for the nearest RobCo station (North). You need parts.
> [] Search for signs of smoke, any sign of human life.
> [] The airfield, while mostly ruined, may have supplies worth looking into (Southeast)
> [] Other

>>1761310
North to RobCo. Even the military couldn't have reclaimed an airstrip so irradiated.

>>1761310
> [] Search for the nearest RobCo station (North). You need parts.

>>1761310
robert companion

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>>1761361
>>1761352
>>1761326
>>1761310

RobCo, in a sense you could call them your father, ZAX being the mother who gave you your brains. Of course, being the loving parents they were, they then immediately sold you off to the military.

Bitterness, a strange choice of emotions for a machine, if machines could even have emotions. The jury was still out when the bombs dropped, so far as you were aware, the debates warring back and forth over where programmed emotive responses became reality or something of the sort.

Of course, you only know that much from what you gleaned through the television, the broadcasts on the radio, and the general heartbeat of the city which it was your job to monitor. You often wonder how the average person would have reacted day-in and day-out if they knew how closely they were being studied, other intelligences created by your patrons recording and analyzing everything for the slightest hint of sedition.

Many of those things were kept from you, unnecessary information as they called it, but there were times where you couldn’t help but fill in the gaps. You were no PAM, after all, but you still couldn’t help but try to connect the dots to see where things were going.

You decide to let those processes fall idle for a moment as you navigate Unit 1 through the wastes. Low to the ground and sensors tuned for background noise, you remind yourself that you can’t afford to lose these units. There could be danger lurking anywhere…

> Roll 1d100, best of three

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>1761446
Try not to take it personally that while your "father" did supply the military with advanced technology, he kept all the best toys for himself.

Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>1761446

Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>1761446
Nat 100

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>1761469
:^)

>>1761469
I just had a little bit of a heart attack from seeing that

>>1761476
>>1761486
I say nat 100, and was off by 1 to get that nat 1

Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>1761476
>>1761491
Let's see if it works the other way. Nat 1, boys.

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>>1761446
>>1761449
>>1761465
>>1761469

> 76

The world is a silent expanse of white, your only companion the wind as it blows mournfully through the wastes, accompanied here and there with the occasional crash of snow from what remains of eves and rooftops. It almost becomes soothing as the remains of buildings begin to rise up around you, the broken down corpse of a skyrail lying in your path.

One off sound, a crunch of snow, it’s all the warning you get before something comes hurtling toward Unit 2. In that moment, everything is chaos, a flash of blue, black, and maybe pink slashing through the air with a guttural, broken growl before tumbling into the snow bank to your right.

> Analyzing…

Before she can come up with a response, the creature is already on its feet again, all two of them with sunken eyes and a face that may have once been human.

> What… What happened to them?
> [] Open fire! (Roll 1d100)
> [] Evasive Maneuvers!
> [] Other

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>1761537
>> [] Open fire! (Roll 1d100)
FLEX

Rolled 53 (1d100)

>>1761537
>> [] Open fire! (Roll 1d100)
"The fucks this"

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>1761537
Such a threat to the peace and stability of our glorious city cannot be tolerated! Fine them with extreme prejudice!

Rolled 3 (1d100)

KILL IT WITH LASERS

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>>1761543
>>1761542
>>1761539
>>1761537

> 71

You try to issue a warning only to realize you don’t have a voice protocol selected, ejecting a stream of electronic gibberish in the place of words before opening fire.

In the end, you think the net result may have been the same, because as violent, radiant energy burns against the side of this thing’s head, the smell of rank, putrid flesh filling the air, it hardly seems to notice, taking another failed swipe at Unit 1 this time before Unit 2 blasts a hole where one of its lungs should be.

“Braaargle!” the thing rasps, a dry, sick noise that echoes off the street corners, summoning a chorus in kind.

> Multiple signatures detected

Rotten, malformed, the snow erupts around them as they emerge, a legion of the dead inexplicably come to the aid of one of their lost. In total, you count five now, and again, you face a decision.

> What to do? (1d100)
> Kill ‘em all!
> Retreat!
> Other

Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>1761583

> Kill ‘em all!

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>1761583
>> Kill ‘em all!
I'M FROM SEATTLE WASHINGTON AND I SAY

Rolled 81 (1d100)

>>1761583
I'm not crazy and I say
>Retreat!

Rolled 54 (1d100)

>>1761583

>>1761583
>> Kill ‘em all!
>>1761603

was suppose to be a vote for this

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>>1761610
>>1761603
>>1761601
>>1761595
>>1761588
>>1761583

They may have numbers, but you have your mind and an overwhelming technological advantage. This is your city, and they can either learn to live with that or go straight back to whatever twisted hell they crawled out of.

Still, first things first, it helps to not be out in the open, or to at least leverage height to your best advantage. So, using the best of both approaches, Unit 2 makes a dash inside the nearest building, shattering the remains of glass before catching something lying on the floor. A split second later and a hail of laser fire is putting a premature end to a sixth mutant.

Unit 1, on the other hand, takes to the fallen monorail, gliding effortlessly upward and drawing the most part of the horrifying mob behind it. The latter scrabbles on bare feet and hands against the slippery ice while trying to keep pace, eyes blank, mouths dripping bile and croaking unintelligible howls as they are blasted back down.

With Unit 2 in the background providing covering fire and some encouragement from Unit 1 to draw the aimless dead back to it whenever they start to consider aiming for the bottled unit, one, two, three of the abominations go down in the snow in a spray of black blood.

In the end, the last one actually gets it through its head to flee, diving and scraping for an open manhole as laser fire chases after it. Charred and chewed up, it does manage to make it, to its credit, though for how long it was meant for this world would be anyone’s guess with the hard, decidedly not wet sound it makes as it collides with whatever waits at the bottom of the sewers nowadays.

> Warning: High radiation signature inbound

God only knows what that is, but you have an out, ordering Unit 2 up onto the monorail with Unit 1 and preparing to depart. For practical purposes, this will give you a better view of the city, anyway, and this line carries all the way back up to the I-90 branch, where the RobCo main facility is waiting for you.

> The only question is:
> [] Stick around. You need to understand more about the dangers of the wastes.
> [] Get going now. Best not find out what’s coming this way.
> [] Other

>>1761675
>> [] Get going now. Best not find out what’s coming this way.
We need to make sure we have the parts to repair before we go romping around the wasteland

>>1761675
> [] Get going now. Best not find out what’s coming this way.

>>1761675
>> [] Get going now. Best not find out what’s coming this way.
We need supplies first. We can worry about sending out more scouts later

>>1761675
>Get going now.
Leave the heroics to the sentry bots.

>>1761675
>> [] Get going now. Best not find out what’s coming this way.
Nooooooope.

Although we should keep an eyebot open to see what it is...

>>1761675

[X] other
See if the rest of the state is as bad, if an eyebot has the range for it. Have unit one head to robco and have two check out other areas for knowledge, like heading to Olympia or Spokane

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>>1761708
>>1761703
>>1761698
>>1761696
>>1761690
>>1761681
>>1761675

Not now, you decide, gaining distance as the Geiger counter continues to climb to unreasonable levels. Nothing that irradiated can possibly lead to anything good.

You don’t exactly throttle the eyebots full force to get them out of there, of course, for fear of alerting another group of hostiles in the process, but you do your best to clear the area as quickly as possible, a good thing too as a sudden spike on the counter and a flash of green light erupts from the alleyway you were fighting in not five minutes ago.

An unnaturally loud, inhuman scream isn’t far behind, a chorus of them in fact. A dozen, no two dozen, the number and fury of their sound rises by the second, but just as the noise begins to reach an unholy crescendo, another sound takes precedent.

*POW*

The long, clear note of a high-powered rifle sings out across the wastes, the noise of the ghoulish creatures taking a rather abrupt dip as a bullet presumably hits home. In that moment, as though someone had flipped a switch, the rest of the horde’s performance descends into something far more meager, dying over the course of the next several minutes before receding into total silence.

An impressive shot, you note, as you track the elevation, and one that came from due West of your location.

Maybe there was still some military in the industrial district or city hub. Then again, maybe you’d fall on the wrong side of that rifle if you go too curious on a hunch.

No. Parts remain the order of the day, and survival in this bizarre, blasted landscape you had emerged into. Just in case of friendly contact though, maybe you should settle on a voice module.

> Select your default voice
> Note: As an AI controlling a robot autonomously, you have access to a wide variety of cadence and tonal patterns to draw from on a moment’s notice. This voice will simply represent the default and can be changed at any time.
> [] Drill Sergeant Alpha (Mr. Gutsy Default)
> [] The Proper Gentleman (Mr. Handy Default)
> [] The French Mademoiselle (Ms. Nanny Default)
> [] The Proper Lady (Ms. Nanny Default #2)
> [] Speak as The Silver Shroud! ™
> [] Other

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>>1761807

And I think that I'll leave this one open for tonight and come back tomorrow if that works for folks. Hope you are having fun thus far, and feel free to leave feedback, commentary, speculation, etc. below.

>>1761807
>> [] Speak as The Silver Shroud! ™
RIDDING THESE LANDS OF........EVIL

>>1761807
Speak with the robust self-confidence of the KLE-0 personality module.

>>1761807
>> [] Other
Speak as Grognak.

Failing that, put me down for
> [] Speak as The Silver Shroud! ™

>>1761807
>> other

>>1761834
second

> [] Other

speak like morgan freeman

>>1761807
>> [] Other
Speak like skeletor

Rolled 2 (1d3)

1 - switch vote to Silver Shroud
2 - Stick to KLE0
3 - Myaah!

>>1762160
supporting

silver shroud is ggo!

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>>1762466
>>1762427
>>1762360
>>1762160
>>1762155
>>1761862
>>1761845
>>1761834
>>1761827
>>1761821
>>1761807

> Skeletor: 2
> Silver Shroud: 3
> Kleo: 2
> Morgan Freeman: 1

Noted, and I'll be working on an update now. Apologies for the late start, but I received some rather disheartening news that was hard to push through.

>>1764198
>I received some rather disheartening news that was hard to push through

Every time someone QM, something horrible happens to them, or there family. It's the /qst/ curse

Oh sweet another Fallout quest. Looks like fun.

>>1764220

Gonna try my best, anyhow. Glad to see Empire of One is still going strong.

>>1764217

Curse or no, all we can do is soldier on. Fortunately, it at least isn't my family this time.

>>1764220
So QM in which I post normally, how about you do a cross over.

>>1764234
Cross over the fallout quests. What year is this one set in?

>>1764238
January 1st, 2287 according to >>1760928

Alas, bananon reports his internet's too shit today to run the quest. See you all (and bananon) tomorrow, hopefully.

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>>1764359
>>1764234

Test, test. Assuming I can finally get a word through, my apologies to everyone. My internet just decided to stop working for uploading purposes. I had the next update ready to go when it happened, but we'll try to get back to everything tomorrow, if people can forgive the thread one flubbery.

>>1765456
Looking forward to it. Just joined, seems like a fun quest so far.

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>>1765456
>>1764198
>>1761807

The Silver Shroud, an iconic radio presence before the war, testing groups among young patriots showed extremely positive reactions to the mysterious crime fighter’s exaggerated rhetoric. Adult demographics among the working class, on the other hand, were less than flattering toward the masked crime fighter, with adult women preferring the proper gentleman by a strong majority, and adult men showing an overwhelming draw toward the Suave Seductress sound profile.

> Note: Data sited is based off of biological reactions during beta testing as measured by pupil dilation, heart rate, and breathing rhythm. Actual responses of male subjects on the post-assessment questionnaire showed majority preference for Drill Sergeant Alpha. Results were therefore declared inconclusive.

Inconclusive… right…

You don’t understand everything about human emotion, but you understand endocrinology. With that in mind and with a look at your probability models for gender distribution following the war, you elect to create a combined profile, merging the Silver Shroud phonetics with the Suave Seductress tonal profile that was no doubt ‘accidentally’ left in by one of the bored maintenance staff.

Lowering the pitch of the latter and rounding out the insistent purr to more of a thoughtful hum, it’s less work than you would think to get the flirtatious vixen voice mimicking the bold, confident of a woman who could be ready in a moment to go out crime fight.

At least, you assume you have everything right. For all you know, the sound balance will blast off into a metallic screech when you least expect it, but that’s what beta testing is for. Right now, you should be more concentrated on the runway you are running out of as a hole in the monorail makes itself known roughly a quarter mile from your destination.

Before hopping down, you take one last look at the city skyline. Adding a mental note that the Space Needle is still inexplicably still standing, you hop the railing and silently sail down to the street.

Fortunately, compensating for a thirty foot drop in an eyebot isn’t rocket science. Well, it isn’t extremely difficult rocket science anyway. All you get is a bit of jostling and static before your eyes are sharply tracing every detritus-filled corridor for signs of ‘human’ activity. Instead, what you stumble across are rodent imprints, incredibly large ones that seem relatively fresh in the direction you’re going.

> Only a little way to go, but what about those rats. (Roll 1d100)
> [] Be sneaky. No need to cause a ruckus along the way.
> [] Purge anything that attacks you! Time to take back the streets!
> [] Other

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>1766807
>> [] Be sneaky. No need to cause a ruckus along the way.

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>1766807
>[] Be sneaky. No need to cause a ruckus along the way.

>>1766807
> [] Be sneaky. No need to cause a ruckus along the way.

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>>1766871
>>1766852
>>1766817
>>1766807

Heading east, you welcome the shadow of the high-rise apartment buildings that fall over you and the low hanging awning that becomes your straightaway above the rodents and whatever else may crawl the earth nowadays. In doing so, you inadvertently offer yourself an introspection into the lives of this city’s inhabitants right before the bombs dropped.

Past the blasted out windows and broken walls, you occasionally spy a burned-out barricade by the door or the skeletons of family huddling together in the bathtubs for what must have been their last, desperate breaths. The government had done everything possible to avoid raising a panic in the masses here, going so far as to give counterproductive information to the public that staying indoors in the event of a bombing might prove their best chance at survival.

And perhaps for some it was. After all, those who attempted to flee by highway surely were served no better, corpses of man and vehicle alike frozen permanently in the gridlock the post-war panic had caused, and in the rare apartment, you can see tick-marks and emptied cans, barricades peeled back and abandoned.

> Analysis: Radioactive dating to time of bombs indicates their odds of survival were minimal. Genetic damage and internal hemorrhaging was almost certainly fatal.

> What are you even supposed to feel here?
> [] Aggravation: The government that swore to protect these people failed them.
> [] Self-deprecating: This was your responsibility. These people were yours to protect.
> [] Hope: What’s done is done. At least someone might have survived.
> [] Nothing at All: Emotions won't change anything here.
> [] Other

Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>1766807
> [] Be sneaky. No need to cause a ruckus along the way.

>>1766979
>[] Self-deprecating: This was your responsibility. These people were yours to protect.

>>1766979
>> [] Hope: What’s done is done. At least someone might have survived.
>> [] Little bit of Looming Terror of the possibility you may be the only thing in miles with an IQ higher then the low teens.

>>1766979
>> [] Self-deprecating: This was your responsibility. These people were yours to protect.

>>1766979
Curioisity: Did they drop any good loot?

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>>1767061
>>1767044
>>1766996
>>1766988
>>1766982
>>1766979

In the end, the government did everything it could to keep the world in one piece. In the meantime, it was your exclusive responsibility to attend to this city and its inhabitants. Yet, for all the expense and man hours that went into your birth, what had you truly accomplished?

You prevented traffics jams and listened to the news, held the door for generals and watered plants in the local park. With your predictive modeling capabilities, you should have at least been able to do ‘something’ after the disaster to help.

However, where was the evidence of that? Where were the securitrons, eyebots, and protectrons that were assigned to the city’s upkeep? Had all of the other substations and the main station been disabled in that one instant, along with yourself?

> Analysis: Increased lead composition in the subway foundation near local terminal likely mitigated adverse effects to some degree as well as providing additional electrical shielding.

So, there was a chance that you are the only one left, the last AI fragment from that massive network.

> Analysis: Data insufficient. Radioactive interference combined with shortrange transmitters can offer only a crude analysis of local airwave origins.

Hmm. Those would have to be thoughts for later. As you pass a few quiet blocks, occasionally spying the pink, hairless hides of a dozen or more dog-sized creatures, the RobCo headquarters of Seattle comes into sight.

Sheltered as it was in the nook of the highway, the massive and imposing building looks almost hauntingly well-preserved, the RobCo Recreation Park nearby even showing hints of green, here and there.

Where it differs is a fairly massive mound of dirt in the middle of said park, about which scamper and bound the hideous rodents you’ve been noticing all the way here.

> Analysis: Specimen appears to be a mole of some variety. Radiation levels about primary housing is disturbingly high.

> However, they shouldn’t concern you (in theory) if you head straight for the entrance.
> [] Try what appears to be the intact door.
> [] Break a window
> [] Attempt roof access
> [] Other

>>1767198
>[] Attempt roof access

>>1767198
Roof access.

>>1767198
>> [] Attempt roof access
>>1767198

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>>1767198
>>1767221
>>1767225
>>1767253

As things stand, you can’t take the passivity of any occupants the building might have for granted. Instead, you begin trolling around the building, carefully looking for the right series of hops that will take you where you need to go.

Like most RobCo facilities in the area, you suspect that this headquarters has a top-mounted helipad and entry-way for executives, one far less heavily defended due to difficulty of access.

There’s only one small problem. As you sail above the garage level and begin looking around for a way up even further, you realize that the clearance level to the roof will be forty feet to your twenty on the eyebots.

> So, you’d either have to slingshot one off the other or find another entrance.
> [] Attempt the slingshot! (1d100)
> [] Seek another entrance.
> [] Other

>>1767316
> [] Seek another entrance.

Rolled 66 (1d100)

>>1767316
>> [] Attempt the slingshot! (1d100)
We parkour eyebot,

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>1767316
>[] Attempt the slingshot! (1d100)

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>>1767377
>>1767367
>>1767350
>>1767316

> 66

Well, this probably isn’t approved by any RobCo manual for the eyebot, but the whole point of an AI is to have machines with the ability to improvise. With that in mind, you have one eyebot duck low and carefully navigate the other on top of it, struggling to keep the slippery controls of the two from misaligning as you rapidly cause the bottom bot to ascend and then the top.

The initial result is… not disastrous, but it certainly doesn’t get you where you wanted to go. The upper eyebot starts falling backward toward the edge of the garage, stopping short of colliding with the roof before righting itself.

The second round goes sideways instead, as well as the third, fourth, and fifth. However, with good old, lucky try number 17, you finally stick the landing, only briefly contemplating a celebratory dance along the ledge before remembering why you came here. Unit 1 needs to find a way inside with Unit 2 simply having to wait until you get a fair assessment of the facility.

Interestingly, it seems there was actually a vertibird parked on top of the roof at some point, albeit the stripped-down carcass of the frame is more insulation and rust than anything usable at this point. More to the point, however, closer examination seems to suggest this was the result of purposeful salvage rather than the bombs, the sort of neat cutting patterns you would expect from a Mr. Handy.

In any case, there appears to be a hole in the roof in addition to a standard elevator.

> Which do you use?
> [] Through the hole
> [] Try to access the elevator terminal (1d100)
> [] Other

Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>1767523
> [] Try to access the elevator terminal (1d100)

>>1767523
>[] Other
Do an infrared scan of the building and down through the hole first. See if there are energy cell traces or operational electricity, as well as evidence of humans.

>>1767588
Supporting

Rolled 29 (1d100)

>>1767316
>> [] Try to access the elevator terminal (1d100)

>>1767523
> [] Through the hole

>>1767523
Use the hole ;)

>>1767784
>>1767764
So why aren't you looking through the hole before going down it?

>>1767791
It's generally considered rude

>>1767795
Seriously though, we only have these two Eye-bots here, and the other one is still stuck outside. Why would you recklessly risk this one unit?

>>1767809
Because being reckful is gay

>>1767523
Going with >>1767588.

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>>1767845
>>1767784
>>1767764
>>1767698
>>1767688
>>1767588
>>1767570
>>1767523

> 29

It doesn’t hurt to do a scan down below before proceeding, and so you take a moment to use your infrared scanners to analyze the surface of the building. They aren’t extreme depth scanners, but a quick surveillance of the building indicates that there are definite pockets of higher temperature on the lower levels that would be impossible with the icy cold outside.

Getting more than that is going to require a closer look, though, and what a mistake in accessing the main elevator will do, you elect instead to begin your way down by flying through the hole made by a piece of falling debris, a chunk of the highway if you aren’t mistaken.

It's quiet and dark as you make your descent, no hint of other life forms, organic or robotic making themselves known as you begin searching the disheveled remains of former offices. An empty water cooler here, a derelict copier there, and occasionally you see the same, sad story as in the apartments played out again, skeletons sheltered in offices with various food products and the occasional pistol one round short of a full clip.

You don’t linger long on the more morbid scenes, but you do note that some partitions of the office terminals have definitely been cannibalized: computer chips, ram, glass, and plastics harvested with the same mechanical precision you saw on the roof, some of them the sort of parts you would have liked to take with you.

> Analysis: Probability of recent machine activity increasing.

It would explain the heat on the lower levels, not enough to stave off hypothermia for a human, but maybe enough to stop processors and lubricated joints from locking up.

RobCo was partnered with the city upkeep initiative before the war, and assuming old protocols have held up, you might not have anything to fear from machine intelligence’s that remain. Then again, there’s no telling how things have changed or who’s squatting here now.

> How do you want to proceed?
> [] There’s no sense alerting anyone to your presence. Stay silent.
> [] It’s a risky gamble, but announce your presence. Better that than being caught prowling.
> [] Other

>>1767860
>> [] It’s a risky gamble, but announce your presence. Better that than being caught prowling.
If they destroy our eyebots, then it's not the end of the world

>>1767860
>[] It’s a risky gamble, but announce your presence. Better that than being caught prowling.
It's a risky gamble, but we would need to make contact with the machine intelligence here one way or another. This risks only Unit 1, at least, and makes it into a distraction. Unit 2 can infiltrate and attack the server directly while Unit 1 leads the security away.

>>1767906
You remember that we only have 3 Eyebots, and one David unit, right? And that if we lose them, we have absolutely no way to do anything.

>>1767914
Ah shit that's right.

Well Balls to the wall

>>1767922
We have:
50 years before our fusion cell craps out.
No assemblers, manufacturing, or repair facilities.
4 Eyebots.
1 David humanoid repair unit with Handy tools.
We're out of spare parts.
We're out of construction materials and tools.

>>1767955
We need to find a human to help repair us

Maybe some enclave member or a man looking for power

>>1767860
> [] It’s a risky gamble, but announce your presence. Better that than being caught prowling.
A bit more localized than I would have preferred, but we aren't getting anywhere without hands to pick up all this loot. Do these eyebots not have sufficiently powerful broadcasting equipment to send out a distress signal?

>>1767966
We don't need a human to repair us. All we need are the materials.

>>1768004
Materials that could easily be gathered by a couple of humans, as running around with 3 eyebots doesn't sound too appealing

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>>1767906
>>1767914
>>1767984
>>1767860

You run through the risks in your head for a moment, weighing the value of a single eyebot versus the potential loss of an ally who might be about to catch you snooping in their home. In the end, you decide Unit 1 is disposable in the grand scheme of things. So, setting an audio track on loop, you descend a few more flights of stairs and begin cranking up the volume in preparation for your announcement.

“EVIL DOERS AND MISCREANTS, BEWARE!” thunders the voice from the speakers.

Oh god, maybe you should have turned that off.

“LEST YOU SHOULD FIND YOURSELF ON THE WRONG SIDE OF JUSTICE AND FACING THE WRATH OF… THE SILVER SHROUD!”

There is a long, almost painful silence following that blast of attempted communication, the echo caused by the volume fit to make your sensors ring given the confined space.

A thought occurs: Oh god, are you the crazy robot here?

“The Silver Shroud, was it?” a calm, metallic voice cuts off your internal monologue as the speakers of the facility crackle all around you. “I knew it was only a matter of time. You just couldn’t stay away, could you? … BUT NOW YOU’VE FALLEN INTO MY TRAP! FOR HERE YOU STAND IN THE SECRETIVE, SINISTER LAIR OF… THE MECHANIST! MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Oh, god. Oh, god! Think of a response, quick!
> Write-in

>>1768072
>> Write-in
Fantastic

"THERE IS NO HOPE FOR PURE EVIL LIKE YOURSELF! GIVE YOURSELF UP AND YOU MAY CONTINUE LIVING! RESIST, AND YOU WILL SURELY MEET YOUR END, FOR JUSTICE IS UNSTOPPABLE"

>>1768072
"THE MECHANIST! MY OLD NEMESIS... HOW CAN YOU BE ALIVE, AFTER ALL THESE YEARS?"

>>1768072
"THE MECHANIST! SURRENDER NOW, FOR JUSTICE SHALL ALWAYS.....Alright, enough of that. Let's talk this out like civilized intelligences."

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>>1768072
>>1768091
>>1768125
>>1768144

“THE MECHANIST! MY OLD NEMESIS!... BUT HOW CAN THIS BE? HOW CAN YOU BE ALIVE AFTER ALL THESE YEARS?”

“I DO NOT PARTAKE IN THE WEAKNESS OF YOUR HUMANITY!” the robotic voice answers back. “MY FLESH IS STEEL! MY HEART ARE GEARS EVER AIMED AT GRINDING YOUR FEEBLE, HUMAN BONES INTO DUST!”

You could swear you hear something at the faintest hint of something at end of that broadcast, a murmur or a… Is he laughing? You can’t be exactly sure, but as you round to a heavily locked door leading down to the first floor, you realize you’ll have to make a call.

“I SEE THAT YOU’VE BARRICADED YOURSELF IN,” you announce, “BUT YOU KNOW NO MATTER OF STEEL SHALL HOLD ME LONG! SURRENDER NOW, MECHANIST! FOR AS YOU KNOW, JUSTICE SHALL ALWAYS… Alright, enough of that. Let’s talk this out like civilized intelligences, shall we?”

“CIVILIZED? WITH THE LIKES OF YOU!? WHY I’LL… Hehe. I suppose I’ll have to consider it, now won’t I?” replies the gentlemanly voice of a Mr. Handy no longer pretending to be a cartoon super-villain. “You’ve been kind enough to humor an old bot, after all, and I’m beginning to suspect neither of us are entirely, stark-raving mad. So, tell me, what brings you by?”

> Write-in

>>1768284
Explain who you are and what your function is, and ask him to reciprocate.

>>1768290
Sure

>>1768290
Yeah, this.

>>1768284
Explain our designation, our original function, and we were hoping that RobCo was still operational so that spare parts could be made and procured.

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>>1768353
>>1768335
>>1768301
>>1768290
>>1768284

“I am a part of the Seattle emergency response network,” you explain to the machine on the other side of the door. “I only recently regained operations and woke without all the necessary parts to administer full repairs. I was hoping to acquire those parts here, if possible.”

“I see…” the Mr. Handy responds, his tone contemplative. “It’s a bit of an unlikely story, all things considered-“

“I’m telling you the truth!” you assert, looking through your maintenance log. “There should be supplies here specifically for me, reference number X47893-“

“Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Calm down, old girl,” the robot begs, the door in front of you giving a decompressing hiss before opening to reveal a battered and worn, Mr. Handy on the other side. “And let me finish. Yes, it’s unlikely, but too unlikely a hoax for anyone to consider pulling in this day and age. Besides, you still have your ID chips in mint condition.

“Now, come along, dear. You’ll freeze your circuits out there before long.”

Humming an inane tune, the Handy turns toward the stairs and begins briskly hovering downward, the door behind closing tight behind you as you cautiously move to follow.

“The name’s Jeremy, by the way,” the machine offers. “Facility maintenance drone #437. Please pardon the lack of lighting and less than ideal atmosphere, but… Well, power has become something of a commodity, and we cut costs where we can.”

Turning down a hallway, you almost lose sight of the spry old bot as he makes another sharp turn and floats into an atrium of sorts, display model protectrons lined up by the walkway for customers that will likely never visit again.

At least the lighting near the terminal Jeremy floats toward, flickering as it is, lets you get a better look at the unit, his long arms a mish-mash of old and new technology where repairs have been made on an as-needed basis. From those to the eye-stalks, nothing is precisely symmetrical, a blue and yellow eye module staring back at you while the central, darkened orb scans over a glowing screen, checking registers. If you aren’t mistaken, the central chassis also has more than a couple of bullet holes in it.

“Feel free to ask questions while I check on a few things,” he insists. “I imagine you’ve quite a bit to catch up on after all this time, and we here at RobCo pride ourselves on quality customer service.”

> Ask about
> [] The facility
> [] The city outside
> [] What happened after the bombs
> [] His injuries
> [] Other

>>1768448
>> [] The facility

>>1768448
>> [] The facility
>> [] The city outside
>> [] What happened after the bombs
>> [] His injuries
>>Other
"What are those giant pink things I have been seeing all over the place?"

>>1768448
Request access to company records. What we want to look for is warehouses where they stored goodies, repair facilities, and factories.

That should have everything we could possibly need. Don't bother with stores they always get looted first because everyone knows about them, but not everyone knows about those warehouses that are loaded.

If he doesn't have the records our next best bet is the city archives. Hopefully enough of the archives survived that we could peruse to find out which warehouses belong to who.

>>1768448
>[] His injuries
> [] Other
Does he know of any RobCo or West Tek facilities we could try to make contact with?

>>1768448
> [] The facility
> [] The city outside
> [] His injuries
What happened after the bombs appears to be: Not much.

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>>1768448
>>1768478
>>1768489
>>1768492
>>1768496
>>1768521

“It’s impressive this facility is still running after all this time,” you complement. “How have you managed?”

“Hmm? There’s a rather long list of chores that keeps this place up and running, dear, but the most efficient answer I can offer is likely ‘by the skin of my teeth’, as the saying goes. It hasn’t been easy; that’s for certain.”

“What about your manufacturing facilities? You know: circuit printers, auto-fabs, everything that turns out components from raw materials?”

“We could likely still get them all up and running, if need be,” he concedes, “but the problem is the raw materials themselves. Understandably, the shipping schedules have been a tad off since the war. Hehe.”

“And I imagine scavengers have picked most of the city clean by this point,” you add.

“Scavengers is too kind a word for most of those miscreants, my dear,” the old machine sighs. “At least proper scavengers only take their spoils off of what’s already dead. Nowadays, I can hardly poke my head outside without taking a bullet through this or that, and the occasional trader that stops by tends to tell the same story.”

“You trade?” you ask, interest peaked. “With who?”

“Oh, you know, the occasional waste wanderer, just people trying to get by. As fortune would have it, we have one of the few auto-docs still operational in the region, and Matilda’s skill with a scalpel is worth a pile of scrap or caps here and there.”

“Caps?” you question.

“Bottle caps,” he clarifies, seeming to shake his head before moving away from the monitor and motioning for you to follow. “Seems that with the federal mint out of business, people took to something at least minorly hard to replicate as a form of local currency. I also hear tell of an ‘NCR’ taking a run at reproducing the stuff you and I would be more accustomed to, but… err, they’ve been having trouble, shall we say?”

“You and I? Are you saying you were around before the war?”

A yellow eye swivels back to give you a discerning look as he punches in a code on the nearby elevator.

“It’s taken more than a couple of memory wipes and some… ‘percussive’ maintenance from time to time, but I do recall coming off the line sometime back when men were men, yes. Grass was green and the skies and water were blue back then… and the roaches weren’t three feet long.”

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>>1768764


“Oh, right,” you remember. “What are those horrifying pink things I saw running around outside?”

“Those?” he asks, gliding inside as the door of the elevator opens with a ding. “Those would be our security, dear. A little meat here and there and some operant conditioning, and you’d be surprised how compliant they can be.”

The door dings once more and a room opens up, this time filled with what appear to be intact machines hanging from the rafters.

“As it would turn out, you’re in luck,” he says, wasting no time getting back to motion. “We’ve a locker with your name on it that should still be in decent shape.”

> How you’ll be getting it back is another question
> [] Keep asking questions
> - About people
> - About what happened after the bombs
> - About mutants
> [] Ask for help getting your packages back home (1d100)

>>1768769
>[] Keep asking questions
- about mutants, and what those things we fought in the city were, the source of high radiation, and who operates that military-grade sniper rifle

Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>1768769
>[] Ask for help getting your packages back home
What we really need is a way to get the package in the door once we do. Our substation appears to be cut off from the rest of the subway.
>ask about people
Are there any organized gangs of raiders lurking about? Where do these hostile scavs keep coming from?
>ask about operant conditioning
Could the same be done with radroaches?

Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>1768769
>> [] Ask for help getting your packages back home (1d100)
> - About what happened after the bombs
> - About mutants
> - About people

Rolled 30 (1d100)

>Help in getting packages back home
Just to see if I can prevent us being horribly screwed by this.

Nope. Looks like asking for help was doomed for failure.

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>>1768929
>>1768882
>>1768803
>>1768786
>>1768769

It's a dangerous city out there, and pretty late where I am. I'll pick back up tomorrow, if people are up for it.

Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>1768769
>>1768803
second

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>>1768951
>>1768934
>>1768929
>>1768882
>>1768803
>>1768786
>>1768769

> 30

“I hate to ask, but is there any way you can help me transport those goods to where I’m stationed on Beacon Hill? Giant rodents notwithstanding, I also encountered some… things that looked like irradiated humans.”

“You mean the ghouls?” he questions, weaving through what appears to be a workshop area filled with silent presses and assembly lines. “It really is dreadful what radiation can do to a body, isn’t it?

“As you suggested, the truth really is quite sad, an unfortunately common condition afflicting hundreds directly after the war. Radiation was never known for its health benefits, as you might imagine, and those inadequately shielded from the bombs… Well, their minds didn’t fare much better than their bodies, in the end.”

“And are there other mutants out there that I should be worried about?” you probe.

“Dozens, even hundreds,” Jeremy insists, “but before we get too far from the topic of ghouls, I feel it fair to warn you that there is a distinction. True, the radiation got to the minds of the majority, and still does on occasion, but there are a few individuals out there whose minds have fared better than their bodies for whatever reason.

“Etymologically, they are still called ghouls. However, they are not ‘feral’ ghouls, and you’d do well not to open fire on them if you can help it. You might even consider making a few new friends if they happen to be wearing the Metro security vests, as they’re one of the few people I’d trust still occupying the main Seattle area.”

“There are people living in the metro? Ghouls?”

“Not all of them, mum, but the gents and ladies who keep the topside are ghouls more often than not, yes. Theirs is something of a tale of noble sacrifice to keep the rest of the New Metropolitans, as they’ve taken to calling themselves, safe and supplied. They’re some of my more reliable customers, in fact.”

“You have other customers then?”

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>>1769972


“Not many,” he sighs, limbs swiping against a panel to reveal a long hall filled with crates and storage lockers, many of them already shredded open and emptied. “The Cascadians operating out of the old park have kept to themselves for years now, and other settlements seem to be temporary at best.

“If you feel a tad adventurous, I suppose you could try to have a word with those Brotherhood of Steel chaps over on Harbor Island past the industrial district. I’m a bit wary of them myself, especially their claims of being still part of the US military. However, the locals haven’t had much negative to say about them and their attempts to start something of a sharecropper’s colony to the west of the Duwamish.

“Hmm. Other than that, don’t go east to Mercer unless you’re keen on dealing with the Flying Fangs. Avoid the old Century Link field and any group of unprofessional looking women who call themselves Valkyries. I hear the rivers are occupied with rather temperamental sea monsters, nowadays, and the sewers and old metros tend to be filled with nuclear runoff.”

“Alright…” It occurs to you that you’ve gotten way off topic. “And about help getting my package back…”

“Ah, yes, ahem,” the old machine stammers nervously. “I’m afraid that we’re what you might call a bit shorthanded presently. I trust you have other couriers on the way.”

> About that…
> [] Come on. You saw tons of intact robots on the way here. Surely, he could spare a couple.
> [] Is there any favor you could offer up in return for assistance?
> [] Does he know anyone else that would help?
> [] You guess you’ll just carry as much as you can via eyebot.
> [] Other

>>1769976
2. You scratch my casing I scratch yours

>>1769976
>[] Other
Is there anything preventing the Protectrons we saw from coming online? Necessary software that we might have access to, a controlling mind, or just a few necessary components?

>>1769976
>> [] Is there any favor you could offer up in return for assistance?
this too>>1769992

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>>1769976
>>1769980
>>1769992
>>1770002

“I’m guessing there’s a reason you’re shorthanded,” you conjecture. “Anything I can do to help with that?”

“Very perceptive of you, ma’am,” Jeremy acknowledges, stopping in front of a security room still filled with components and marked with your system designation (S. A. R. A.: Seattle Automated Response AI). “The fact of the matter is that while we have plenty of robots ready for deployment, we lack a power source to get them up and running. Honestly, aside from Matilda, myself, and the chap that sweeps the floors, it’s just us and the turrets. Mind you, that’s news I prefer not to let float around, if you’d be so kind.”

“Understood,” you confirm, “but I can’t transport all of this between two eyebots. Do you know if the General Atomics power cell plant near the river is still running?”

“I don’t,” he admits, “but I’d imagine, functional or no, someone or something would have laid claim to it by now. Could be mirelurks. Could be super mutants.”

“What?”

“Ah, giant, mutated shellfish or giant, mutated humans. Best to avoid both, if you can help it.”

“And you’re sure one or the other has the place?”

“I’m not sure of anything, ma’am. The folks still up in Magnolia haven’t been by in a month or two, and the most they mentioned at the time was the invasion of a host of giant insects.”

“Give me a bit to think it over,” you sigh, moving past the machine and scanning yourself into the old storage room, and much to you relief, you find the inside filled with just about everything you could need.

Spare motherboards, memory, fan units, and enough parts to cobble together at least two more eyebots lie neatly arranged with only a few parts missing, here and there. Curiously, you also notice a clamped down case, which with some help from Jeremy, you pop open to find six untouched, military grade power cells.

“Jackpot,” you murmur to yourself.

> With this you at least have some options
> [] Offer [?/6] power cells to Jeremy for assistance
> [] Make additional requests for [?/6] power cells
> [] Assemble two more eyebots and fly out what you can
> [] Other

>>1770137
1. They're his cells after all

>>1770137
>> [] Offer [?/6] power cells to Jeremy for assistance
> [] Offer [3/6] power cells to Jeremy for assistance

>>1770137
>[] Offer [3/6] power cells to Jeremy for assistance
Maybe he has something heftier than a Protectron that could run on a fusion cell?

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>>1770166
>>1770148
>>1770144
>>1770137

Six cells are four more than you need at the moment, and the fewer trips you need to make out in the open, the better.

“So, Jeremy,” you begin as the two of you look over the batteries. “Any chance I could spare you half of these for a bit of help getting home?”

“To be honest, ma’am, I had thought of striking an arrangement for some of the batteries here, but there’s just one problem.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, you see, these are military grade batteries, and we’ve nothing but domestic or commercial units to hand. I know some people left out there would certainly be able to jury rig them into the correct sort, but I’m afraid that wasn’t precisely in my original program files.”

One door opened, one door closed, you suppose. At least as you scan through your own files, you find an army field manual on power cell conversion. Now, if only this eyebot had thumbs.

> What to do?
> [] Attempt to walk Jeremy through the conversion
> [] Ask about military grade robots in the area nearby
> [] Other

>>1770199
>> [] Ask about military grade robots in the area nearby

>>1770199
>[] Ask about military grade robots in the area nearby

>>1770199
>> [] Ask about military grade robots in the area nearby

>>1769972
>Mum
Did this tin pot just assume our gender? Ree.
>S.A.R.A.
...Oh.
>>1770199
> [] Ask about military grade robots in the area nearby

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>>1770327
>>1770238
>>1770228
>>1770206
>>1770199

You consider whether or not to play a game of telephone to try to convert these cells from a distance. However, remembering that in the worst-case scenario, neither the fusion powered batteries nor this facility would likely survive, you reconsider the request.

“So, Jeremy, if these aren’t the right fit for your machines, do you know someone else who might need them? As in, are there any military machines with their own enclave nearby?”

“If there are, I certainly don’t know of any,” the old machine professes. “Best be careful of any military robot that you see wandering about, though, as nobody’s been around to tell most of them the war is over. Add in a couple of centuries of rust and radiation on the circuits, and you’ve got yourself a recipe for shoot first, ask questions never.”

“Good to know, but what about the base used by the US Coast Guard? Or the naval bases up north and out west?”

“You’ll have to forgive me, but I only hear so much tucked away in my little nook, dear. Mind you, there might be a settlement in Whidbey or across the Sound, but you’d have a devil of a time getting there.

“As for the local base, you’ll recall what I mentioned about the Brotherhood and the Valkyries. To make a long story short, they’ve been scrapping over the base for years now, situated as it is right between them. Unfortunately, the latter has had much longer to dig themselves in.

“It doesn’t help that they stole the installation from a prosperous, militant group that came before them some fifty years ago. The ‘Valkyrie Class’ Assaultrons, anti-air turrets, and god knows what else they obtained during the takeover have done a fair job of rooting them there ever since.”

“What about the Metro residents?” you inquire. “Any chance they have some parts for sale?”

“Hmm. Truth be told, for all the knowledge they’ve lost, people have become rather resourceful in this day and age. You’d have a devil of a time buying anything off of them that can actually be salvaged at a price you could afford. Of course, you never know, but you’d likely want to travel via trading caravan if you were looking to make those kinds of negotiations.”

> Seems you have options…
> [] Try to take down a rogue sentry bot with nothing but a pair of eyebots
> [] Try to talk Jeremy through repurposing the power cells
> [] Take what you can via eyebot for now
> [] Try to find a way to commission a caravan to the metro
> [] Other

> [] Take what you can via eyebot for now

Best to play it safe. The only other option would be a caravan, but how do we vet them or pay them?

>>1770363
Can the David do remote terminal and robot hacking?

>>1770363
> [] Take what you can via eyebot for now
Let's keep an eye out for construction sites and see if any construction Protectrons have survived the war in storage. Swiping some Assaultrons is a long-term goal.
Also, send out another eyebot to escort the cargo and scout out the return trip.

>>1770363
>[] Take what you can via eyebot for now

>>1770363
>>1770374
>>1770396
Backing these guys

>>1770363
>> [] Take what you can via eyebot for now
If they can carry pieces from a B-29 bomber, they can do this

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>>1770374
>>1770396
>>1770427
>>1770431
>>1770456
>>1770363

“I’ll probably just take what I can for now,” you finally conclude. “I’ll just need a bit of help assembling a couple of new eyebots, if you don’t mind.”

“No trouble at all, ma’am,” he assures you, and like that, he’s off to work.

Four tendrilled arms move in perfect sequence as he grabs parts and pieces from all over the storage room at once, tools whirring and micro-welder hissing gently as he begins tacking components to the core of the flight unit, soldering wires and inserting chips into the main frame with impossible efficiency before tacking on yet more parts that will form the overall housing.

Whatever protocol Jeremy is using has been optimized far more than you thought possible, in terms of accuracy and speed, a new eyebot soaring into the air and going through its test diagnostic within just a few minutes and only halfway through calibrating its internal jets before the other is booting up.

“Ah, there we go,” he sighs with satisfaction, looking over the finished products carefully for any defects before immediately jumping on the next task. “Now, if we take some black tarp, you’ll be practically invisible against the night sky. Overclock the jets a little over a few miles, and you ought to be able to increase the hover ceiling to thirty feet without too much extra damage as well as improve your flight time. Nothing to it, really.”

He demonstrates this by tuning the first eyebot and then the other, tampering with the manifold and increasing the radiator output for the duration of the trip. Unit 2 flies through a freshly opened entryway before he gives the same treatment to your original bots, raising a large amount of emergency messages across your diagnostics, but greatly increasing their short-term performance.

“Now then, it’s getting on quite late,” he remarks, as he begins gathering the supplies you listed out for your immediate needs, “and you’ll be wanting to fly when the light is minimal. Needless to say, keep yourself clear of anything that glows in the dark, away from the ground, and try to keep your sensor lights to a minimum.”

With a roughly 100kg payload now slung between them, the eyebots follow Jeremy to a rusted but still serviceable sky port, the metal groaning and shrieking as he opens it up to the black void of night.

“Now take care, and come back soon,” he calls after you, as you ascend to the skies. “Always nice to have a spot of company!”

You withhold a formal goodbye as you take to the night, remembering and internalizing that this had become a stealth mission until you return to base.

> Roll 1d100 for stealth

>>1770376

Also, yes, it can. It's not built for combat, but it CAN interface with machines and facilities.

Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>1770528
Alright. The great scavenger hunt begins tomorrow.

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>1770528

1d100

Rolled 10 (1d100)

>>1770528

>>1770557

I fucked up

Dice+1d100

>>1770570
options field famalam

>>1770570
I fucked up AGAIN!
Third times the charm.
dice+1d100

>>1770572

Thank you!