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<blockquote data-quote="Angcuru" data-source="post: 2527415" data-attributes="member: 10948"><p>Jaess quickly looks about the room, suppressing the instinctive urge to get up and back slooooowly away from the agitated droid, she sees nothing to prevent a quick dash towards the door she entered from. Unfortunately, the only ventilation ducts she spots are no larger than her own skull-</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><em><strong>BZZZZZZT!</strong>......plop-hiisssss......</em></p><p></p><p>-not that specifics come to mind when one is being distracted by the mess of molten circuitry that just flashed and fell to the floor in front of the increasingly creepy droid. She tenses, ready for a quick leap to safety and....realizes that these seats are really uncomfortable, giving her that pins and needles feeling in her lower legs.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: SlateGray">*sigh* "Like I have already told you, I am an AI Construct, not something as crude and undesirable as a virus."</span> An image pops up in the lower left corner of the droid's HUD.</p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.fief.org/kathleen/qg4/dr.%20cranium.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> </p><p></p><p><span style="color: SlateGray">"Did you really have to melt that datachip? The janitors are going to throw a fit over this. The were always complaining about the mess my designers made while working late into the night, what with the empty snack food packages and suchlike scattered all over the room. 'It'll compromise the clean-room environment and endangers the super computers!' Bah. I prefer to be designed by an unhygienic organic than a distracted, hungry, disgruntled one. <em>But</em> if you are so eager to be rid of me, despite the obvious benefit my presence delivers to you, I'll go away for a while."</span> The image/construct/man's shoulders droop disappointedly. <span style="color: SlateGray">"I was going to show you some recently procured schematics of Imperial Supercomputers as a topic of light conversation, maybe even a list or two of the Empire's latest encryption codes, but <em>nooooo</em>, you have to be paranoid and uncivil. Obviously they chose the wrong droid to insert me into. <em>'Ernie, R-LE-1 will love you! He's always hacking into every network he can out of sheer curiosity, he'll be ecstatic that we've chosen him! Not only does he get the satisfaction of knowing that there is no possible way that he can be memory wiped or turned against the Rebellion, but with a T.R.A.P.'s espionage sub-programs, you're a hacker-bot's dream come true!'</em> We thought you'd be glad to have me, but <em>nooooooo</em>, you have to be rude and suicidal!"</span> The man's eyes open wide and he points accusingly at Arlee. <span style="color: SlateGray">"Plus you've gone and scared the organics! That young lady over there looks likely to be positively slightly uneasy and/or has a muscle cramp due to your unwillingness to initiate conversation thus causing her to sit still on those notoriously uncomfortable briefing room chairs thus causing her legs to go numb!! How could you! I'm going to go sulk in awkward silence now until you've learned your lesson. Good day to you, sir!"</span></p><p></p><p>The image of 'Ernie" blips out of Arlee's HUD. All running trace/seek&destroy programs register a sudden absence of the T.R.A.P. Automatic emergency quickscan programs reveal nothing out of the ordinary except for a text file entitled: 'PBBBBBTTTTTHHHHH!!!!' which resides without any sign of activity in Arlee's Databanks. Scan indicates the file to be free of any content whatsoever.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Angcuru, post: 2527415, member: 10948"] Jaess quickly looks about the room, suppressing the instinctive urge to get up and back slooooowly away from the agitated droid, she sees nothing to prevent a quick dash towards the door she entered from. Unfortunately, the only ventilation ducts she spots are no larger than her own skull- [center][i][b]BZZZZZZT![/b]......plop-hiisssss......[/i][/center] -not that specifics come to mind when one is being distracted by the mess of molten circuitry that just flashed and fell to the floor in front of the increasingly creepy droid. She tenses, ready for a quick leap to safety and....realizes that these seats are really uncomfortable, giving her that pins and needles feeling in her lower legs. [COLOR=SlateGray]*sigh* "Like I have already told you, I am an AI Construct, not something as crude and undesirable as a virus."[/COLOR] An image pops up in the lower left corner of the droid's HUD. [img]http://www.fief.org/kathleen/qg4/dr.%20cranium.jpg[/img] [COLOR=SlateGray]"Did you really have to melt that datachip? The janitors are going to throw a fit over this. The were always complaining about the mess my designers made while working late into the night, what with the empty snack food packages and suchlike scattered all over the room. 'It'll compromise the clean-room environment and endangers the super computers!' Bah. I prefer to be designed by an unhygienic organic than a distracted, hungry, disgruntled one. [i]But[/i] if you are so eager to be rid of me, despite the obvious benefit my presence delivers to you, I'll go away for a while."[/COLOR] The image/construct/man's shoulders droop disappointedly. [COLOR=SlateGray]"I was going to show you some recently procured schematics of Imperial Supercomputers as a topic of light conversation, maybe even a list or two of the Empire's latest encryption codes, but [i]nooooo[/i], you have to be paranoid and uncivil. Obviously they chose the wrong droid to insert me into. [i]'Ernie, R-LE-1 will love you! He's always hacking into every network he can out of sheer curiosity, he'll be ecstatic that we've chosen him! Not only does he get the satisfaction of knowing that there is no possible way that he can be memory wiped or turned against the Rebellion, but with a T.R.A.P.'s espionage sub-programs, you're a hacker-bot's dream come true!'[/i] We thought you'd be glad to have me, but [i]nooooooo[/i], you have to be rude and suicidal!"[/color] The man's eyes open wide and he points accusingly at Arlee. [COLOR=SlateGray]"Plus you've gone and scared the organics! That young lady over there looks likely to be positively slightly uneasy and/or has a muscle cramp due to your unwillingness to initiate conversation thus causing her to sit still on those notoriously uncomfortable briefing room chairs thus causing her legs to go numb!! How could you! I'm going to go sulk in awkward silence now until you've learned your lesson. Good day to you, sir!"[/COLOR] The image of 'Ernie" blips out of Arlee's HUD. All running trace/seek&destroy programs register a sudden absence of the T.R.A.P. Automatic emergency quickscan programs reveal nothing out of the ordinary except for a text file entitled: 'PBBBBBTTTTTHHHHH!!!!' which resides without any sign of activity in Arlee's Databanks. Scan indicates the file to be free of any content whatsoever. [/QUOTE]
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