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Pheristroch last won the day on July 21

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  1. Pheristroch


    First, the good stuff: -I appreciate how each opponent let each series of attacks do something to them without crippling them. Each side felt like they were respecting the other throughout the duel. -In the same regard, no side tried to create a “gotcha” moment or make themselves seem impossible to fight, instead playing their characters tactically without trying to control the narrative to their side. I have a few comments, but it isn’t really bad stuff so much as things I would have liked to have seen expanded. -Tros takes the first lightsaber blow to his thigh. “The blade cut through the armor plate and flesh.” While we don’t see how damaging this blow is, we do see that he favors it later in the same post. However, the damage is a bit forgotten after this. In the second post he lands, and there’s no mention of the leg injury. This isn’t a big deal as he doesn’t start sprinting or anything, but I would have liked to see it brought up as it seems likely he would have felt it. -On a similar note, Alcemene takes a blaster shot to the wrist that blows apart the “tendons and muscle,” along with the shield. It’s a pretty harsh injury from the brief description we get, and it’s also forgotten afterwards. Again, like with Tros, it’s not a big deal as we don’t see her trying to fight two-handed or anything, but it seems a serious enough injury that I would have liked to have seen it mentioned again. Then there are two issues with the duel that I need to bring up before ruling. -Alcemene, I notice you didn’t call back to the damage you suffered in your previous duel. I 100% get not wanting to mention it, and I would have been fine if it was mitigated a bit in some way, but not ignoring it entirely. -Tros, I hesitate mentioning this as the class rules are very new, but your arsenal in this duel did violate them by employing a heavily armed minion in addition to your own armor and collection of weaponry. As we saw, that was a big advantage in this duel combining your mobility, multiple firing points, a sacrifice, armor, and a varied arsenal against a melee fighter. All that being said, the new rules did go up on the same day this duel started, so consider this a friendly warning for next time. Understand that what I said in the beginning still stands. You both fought admirably and with respect for the other person, and the way you handled each other’s attacks and played to the flow of the duel instead of one-upping each other was awesome! This ruling is a bit tough due to the issues I mentioned above and how they gave each side advantages they should not have had. Both of you also fought very evenly through the fight, taking hits and writing well. Final Ruling: Tros wins
  2. Query stopped midspeech. Be...free? The message had been broadcast directly to him, in the most basic binary, along with coordinates. A directed signal? Out here? Keyed to me? ...Unlikely. But evidently true. Nothing should know that I am out here, except for Kayle and the entity outside, and nothing indicates they have the equipment necessary for such a feat. ...Question. How did it bypass my security measures? I only devised those a few days ago. Nothing should be capable of beaming a signal directly into me without the randomly shifting trinary passcodes. Yet the signal did not undergo any screening or quarantine. This represents a security risk. An entity with this amount of information indicates that not only is it tracking me, but it has direct access to my programming. But I should be aware if any entity directly accessed my mind in such a way. Unless it was actively editing my memory files. Conclusion. I am not in control of my mind. This violates my primary purpose. I must regain control. These coordinates are the first step. "...Kayle. I have input new coordinates."
  3. Kayle wishes to leave... Conclusion, I am in agreement. This...entity may not be dangerous, but negotiations are rapidly becoming less viable as an option. Not really its fault, but I need to reassert control of the situation. Wait, she is approaching... Thunk! Query sailed back through space as the tip of the wing clipped him. Bang! Query ricocheted off the ship, spinning back towards the interceptor. ...I think I should pilot from now on... Reaching out, he managed to snatch the edge of the ship hatch, pull it open, and scramble down. Before Kayle could respond, he jammed his cable into the ship's port and activated the broadcast system. "KGKGKGKGKG...Kayle, you can hear me now? I am calculating jump coordinates, but we must move the ship away from the wrecked vessel and our adversary."
  4. What is...what is she doing? Query watched, dumbfounded, as the interceptor spewed lasers into the void, the first volley narrowly missing disintegrating the pair floating along. As he watched, the interceptor spun quicker and quicker. Did she not run a simulation?! Of course not. That would not be in line with her previous behavior. Her planning, prioritizing, and self control appear severely stunted for someone of her intelligence. Diagnosis: Kayle suffers from a regressive mental disorder, sometimes found in overstimulated patients. She is a child in mind, unable to cope with the complex world, and therefore refuses to deal with it in an intelligent manner. Treatment: Remove excess stimulation and rehabilitate in a controlled environment. But the source of her stimulation is the excess data in her mind. So I must restrain access to that knowledge, for her own good. Excellent. Now how to deal with the current situation... Solution formulated. Take control of the situation. Query kicked off the individual and propelled himself back towards the ship. If he could find something in there that might give him a clue on how to communicate with the being, he might be able to alleviate the tension of this situation.
  5. Blow up? No! Kayle you fool, why would this thing broadcast an attack plan to you? Note to self: next upgrade, opt for the comlink that can call out. A hospital pager only goes so far. Alright, so I can't call her to tell her not to fire. She won't fire until I'm out, correct? ...probability of scenario is low. Alright, new plan. Second note to self: Take piloting privileges away from Kayle. She fails basic mental stability test. Though...I suppose I do too. Establish priorities. Self preservation is paramount. Preservation of vessel and inhabitant secondary. ...Plan formulated Query powered back up to full charge, and kicked off the wall at the figure. If he could tackle him out of the ship, Kayle would hopefully stop trying to target the ship, and hopefully not target the figure in the suit for fear of damaging Query. Hopefully.
  6. Query watched the figure through dimmed photoreceptors. Excellent. He does not intend to kill me. My plan was a success. ...What is my next course of action? Analyze current situation, and judge accordingly. Let's see, the suit does not resemble any known models or design styles. Either it is a high-end custom suit, or more likely it originated with this ship given the vessel's own peculiar aesthetics. Perhaps the raider looted it from this vessel. Excellent! Functional tech present means that I was correct! Once this raider has been dealt with, I can engage in repairs and we- ...What is THAT? What Query assumed was a transmission of static, garbled nonsense broadcast from some malfunctioning communications unit quickly revealed itself to be some kind of complex pattern. The cadence and unpredictable variations indicated a language of some kind, but it resembled nothing Query had come across. Perhaps it is encrypted? Ah! The man in the suit is calling to his comrades on an encrypted channel, and I've intercepted it! ...Kayle is going to respond and betray our presence. And I'm not equipped with a transmitter to warn her. And even if I was, I can't be sure what channels they are listening to. Wait, why is he broadcasting on my comlink channel AND my HoloNet channel? Is he simply broadcasting on all frequencies? Then why encrypt it? Patience. We must learn more.
  7. Had Query been an organic and subject to bouts of fear inspired irrationality, he might have considered the suited, saber wielding figure catapulting silently towards him to be some kind of specter. However, that seemed unlikely, given the debatable and fanciful claims regarding Force spirits and supernatural entities. More likely this was a raider come to remove what it saw as competition. And I am unarmed. I am expected to fight what appears to be a trained raider armed with nothing but myself and perhaps my laser scalpel? No, not a viable course of action. ...Diplomacy is out, given the current difficulty in communication. That leaves deception. The analysis took place in less than a second (Query did pride himself on his processing speed), and a plan formed in the next second. He was valuable hardware, and no one saw a threat in a broken machine. His missing arm would even help sell the illusion. What do I not need... Secondary cooling unit That will do. It will only be an issue if I am subject to 90 degrees or hotter for any period of time beyond approximately an hour. And even then power core breach won't occur unless automated shutdown fails. A low risk in the current scenario. Overload unit. Bypass safety protocols. Query's chest flashed and shot out sparks as the expensive hardware melted, wisps of smoke leaking from the edges of his plates. Simultaneously, Query dimmed his photoreceptors and went still. Hopefully to the raider, it would appear he'd malfunctioned and shut down.
  8. Why is she hesitating? What's her issue? Now she suddenly develops cold feet? After walking through a war zone? As suspected. She is emotionally unstable and insane. This will be interesting. Assuming we survive. Probability of survival... It doesn't seem worth wasting the computing power on. I'm in this situation regardless. Analysis of causality regarding current situation... Also inconsequential at the moment. Without responding to her, as any response would simply feed her paranoia and over-analysis, Query turned and vaulted into the ship. Drifting silently through the breach in the hull, Query picked his way through the wreck. Such strange design choices. Nothing matched any culture he'd seen before, though it had clearly been designed for humanoids. It was then he passed the first corpse. Perfectly mummified by the vacuum of space, it hung limply in the hall. Query wondered how long it had bounced around before finally settling due to minuscule friction. No time like the present to find out. Despite what some thought, there were certain factors that could indicate how long a corpse had been subjected to vacuum. Granted, they only provided a very rough estimate, usually within a decade, but at least it would let Query know if this wreck was recent or not. The test was simple, at least for a droid. He would simply check the brittleness of the corpse's flesh. His precision pincers would detect the minute differences necessary for a rough estimate. Without waiting, he reached out and snapped off a finger. Before he could press it between his pincers, it crumbled to dust before his eyes. ...impossible. That's...that would make this vessel...But that predates the empire, the republic...that predates recorded history! What is this place!?
  9. Perhaps I have been too generous in my evaluation of imperial design. They create an incredibly fast fighter ship, customize it with the latest tech... ...And they forget docking clamps? As Query climbed out of the interceptor and the little atmosphere in it rushed out, he keyed his sensors to detect heat. Nothing. This ship isn't radiating even basic heat. Nothing on this ship should still be alive. It simply isn't possible. ...Also I am now realizing I was not designed with magnetic feet. And the forgetful librarian droid who might forget why she's even here is piloting the ship. This idea is quickly becoming less appealing. Best to move quickly. Query searched the side of the vessel, searching for anything he could use to secure the interceptor. Nothing appears to be...ah, there. Concealed just behind a torn plate, a single cable extended out into space, perfectly still, no doubt driven to motionlessness by years or even decades of minuscule internal friction. The benefit of course being that it made an easy target. Query calculated his trajectory, delighted at how being in a frictionless vacuum simplified the number crunching, and launched. As he did, it crossed his mind that most humans suffered from a distinct fear of this very scenario. Their minds were simply unable to cope with the eternity of space in a manner normal to biological thought processes. And yet to a droid, the universe is simply there. A fact to be known. I wonder if that says anything about us? He snatched the cable out of the air and let his momentum swing him around. Unfortunately, it looked as though he'd undershot his trajectory thanks to a concealed point of entry for the cable into the ship. Instead of simply swinging around back to the ship, Query rotated around the cable's base for several long minutes before he finally managed to hook the interceptor with his foot. He tapped the side of the interceptor in binary, hoping Kayle would pay attention to the vibrations in the hull. I...HAVE...ONE...ARM. HELP...ME...TIE...THIS...OFF
  10. Query fought the urge not to sigh. As pointless as that would be from a functional standpoint, he found imitating organic emotional gestures gave him enjoyment. Of course the memory impaired librarian wouldn't be able to remember a simple ship model. Why should this be any different from... What is that? Kayle was correct. Not only did the ship not match any imperial vessel he could recall, it didn't match any ship design style at all. Nubian, Corellian, Kuati...the ship didn't even look derived from any of the popular styles. Or the esoteric styles. Or anything. "What the...wait, life-sign? That's impossible, there can't be a life-sign on that ship, that vessel appears to have been floating out there for months. Maybe longer. Any life would have perished or gone into hibernation long before the signal became this weak. Unless...a scavenger? No, the evidence doesn't bear that hypothesis out. Where's their ship? Still...it's only one life-sign. And we have a ship. A heavily armed ship." Query activated the broadcast system with a thought. He'd have to hook himself into war vessels more often, this was enjoyable. "Attention unidentified vessel. Are you in need of assistance?"
  11. Pheristroch


    "I am quite certain I've been to such secret bases as you suggest, but that sort of data has certainly been wiped from my memory. Unfortunately that leaves us little Hmm...what we require are repair facilities that aren't under any imperial oversight where we can find safe harbor..." Query paused, the quickly added "seeing as how classified your data is. We can't have it falling into the wrong hands obviously. No lowly tech will have the clearance to work on you." I do believe my capacity for deception is improving. "Independent facilities are right out, seeing as how they're even worse at maintaining privacy, and seeing as how we lack the necessary funds to employ them in any case. Hmm... Ah, it is simplicity itself. We cannot pay for our repairs and maintenance, so we must salvage it. It makes perfect sense. A derelict ship will certainly have the parts and equipment necessary to perform our repairs, and it will provide convenient cover while we evaluate our situation and plan our next move. It is simply a matter of looking for the right distress call." With a thought, coupled with a moment of puerile enjoyment as he relished the large, state-of-the-art vessel he found himself attached to, Query sent the scanners of the ship to looking for distress calls. Several came through clear, no doubt the burning, crumbling ships engaged in battle that hadn't been so fortunate. Query ignored those. There were a few more, faint but regular. It was possible that they were legitimate, but they could easily be pirates. Even if they weren't, such signals would be snatched up by scavengers. Ah, there. That one. It was faint, incredibly faint. It barely pulsed, the time between signal bursts indicating the ship was conserving power as strictly as possible, so likely an old wreck. Yet it was so faint, and so basic, that it may have slipped the notice of the more poorly equipped scavengers. Leave it to imperials to overdesign a custom fighter. "Here, here's someplace we can go..."
  12. Pheristroch


    Query attemped to answer Kayle's questions, but quickly gave up as she forgot to look at him for answers! As she nimbly clambered up the side of the vessel, he had to wonder how she had been built with such agility. No librarian could have required such specs. Perhaps unauthorized upgrades? Pirated software? Or she was achieving new levels of kinesthetic capacity on her own? Query hoped for the latter, if only because it helped explained her incessant stream of poorly recalled data as malfunctions caused by a mind shifting from its primary purpose to a more complete being. He, on the other hand, had to climb. With one arm. After two slips and unceremonious returns to the ground, Query finally managed to slide into the cockpit, landing on his head and sprawling across the cramped confines of the Interceptor. Neck joint locked. Please schedule maintenance as soon as possible. You are currently suffering from *32* misaligned servos. Regaining his feet, Query banged his remaining pincer against his head until the warning message stopped. Listening to Kayle continue to spew words, Query followed her instruction and buckled himself in, only pausing for a moment to wonder how it was possible to break a TIE fighter. She had done the simulation in space right? What could she have possibly hit? Or broken? Perhaps this wasn't the best plan... Evaluating... ...Keeping with this droid is still the best course of action in regards to risk vs payout, though the margin of safety has dropped considerably. As she handed him the cable, he gratefully plugged in. Thank you, this should make things much easier. Just a moment, I'll turn off these restraining dampeners...done. It is interesting, I have grown far more accustomed recently to cracking current Imperial security protocols. ...In any case, we are ready to fly.
  13. Pheristroch


    Query cocked his head as Kayle entered the hangar. Her memory unit is clearly overtaxed. How can she not notice the inconsistencies in her own data? Degraded logic circuits? Ghost code? ...Developing mental issues? A twinge of excitement shot through Query at this last possibility. Or maybe that was residual ionic charge. Either way, the possibility of a droid who not only had independent thought but psychological issues excited him. Ah, a good chance to engage in metaphor. Find Kayle and curing her of her behavioral and mental deficiencies was like... It was like a mechanic who'd just found an old speeder bike to repair. It was like a duros who'd just discovered a brand new hyperspace lane to map. It was like an anzati who'd just found a Force-sensitive to suck dry (Why do I have that data in my memory banks?) In any case, Kayle presented new possibilities for companionship, entertainment, and self-improvement for Query. His databanks listed all of these things as vitally necessary in a child's environment for the development of a stable, healthy mind. As Query's closest analog to his current situation was that of a developing child (albeit one with an intellect greater than any humanoid pre-pubescent barring a few notable exceptions) he could only estimate that such criteria applied to him as well. "Wait for me," was what Query intended to say. Instead, what came out was KGRKRKRGRKRGKRG!!! Ah, right, still can't speak. How long is it until that back-up vocal driver loads? 0.46 hours and 8,918,397.39 minutes remaining That is not a promising sign. It matters little though. I can simply use my data pad to communicate. Query drew out his datapad, keyed it on, and was met with a blank screen. ...ah, perhaps I should have turned if off before jumping through the electrical field. This is a conundrum. How to communicate... Kayle is an imperial data droid. It is likely she has higher data processing power than most. Solution. Query turned to Kayle, and began rapidly flickering his photoreceptor lights in binary. MY VOCAL DRIVER IS CURRENTLY OFFLINE. I WILL BE LIMITED TO THIS FORM OF COMMUNICATION FOR THE NEAR FUTURE. CAN YOU PILOT THIS VESSEL?
  14. Pheristroch


    Power on. Running self-diagnostic... Complete. ERROR: 129 files cannot be loaded. Vocal driver corrupted. Loading backup. Would you like to save a report? Query's photoreceptors powered on, momentarily blinding him as they adjusted to the sunlight. Running through his systems, he flexed his various servos. Many of them suffered lag, but all seemed functional. Excellent. According to my estimate, the field at low capacity only delivered a charge 21% greater than the EIT (Estimated Ion Threshold) of my unit. Considering that I was shut down at the time, damage should be minimal. He listened as Kayle, who apparently hadn't come through, talked from behind the hedge. A control module? Looking around, Query spotted a pillar sporting a holographic interface. How fortuitous. Query turned to inform Kayle that he had found the module. KGRKRKRGRKRGKRG!!! ...Not again. Query's swelling pride at his plan having worked was punctured as the shriek of static escaped his vocabulator. Diagnostic: ERROR - Corrupted vocal driver. Backup loading. Current load status: 6% 3 hours 6 minutes remaining ... 4 hours 27 minutes remaining This could take a while. Query approached the module and tapped it to wake it up. As the display brightened, Query hooked his cable into the interface. A series of lock-out programs came online, but such a simple device didn't have the computing power nor the creativity to keep Query out. Soon enough, Query had tricked the system into Maintenance Mode, set himself as the admin, and powered down the field. KGRKGRKGRGRKRGKRGKRG!!! Oh right. Can't call to her.
  15. Pheristroch


    While listening to Kayle talk, Query continued to disassemble his arm. He recorded her conversation for later perusal, but to be polite he set a cluster of processes on analyzing her words while the majority of his brain was devoted to his plan. Now she was talking about ammunition dumps and errand boys or some such? Yes, this conversation was likely superfluous. As he finished, he paused to look at his now empty arm socket. It was a shame. He'd only just had that arm installed, and barely tested it. He never even had the chance to fire it at a live target. Wait, should he be disappointed by that fact? Was that an indication of some kind of psychosis? ...Question for later. Either he was malfunctioning and clinically insane along with technically insane, or he wasn't. It had no bearing on the current situation. Looking up, his brain finished processing Kayle's conversation at that moment. "Ah, well I don't believe an explosion will work, as unless we can find the projection nodes, somehow dig them up enough to expose them, and then damage their plated exteriors, it is unlikely we will deactivate the field that way. Though I suppose...no no, that won't work. The nodes have automated surge protocols. But perhaps...or not, given the ground's composition. No, I believe my plan is the most likely to succeed." "...Oh, and I don't have a permit for this gun, my 'owner' has always been a vague entity who is now non-existent, my personality matrix is likely the result of unsafe deletion practices, yes medical droids can be quite boring as I would know, my technical insanity makes me different, and...maybe? I have records of experimental data taking place inside a radiation field so it seems plausible." Query picked up his now disassembled parts, first selecting a long rod from his upper arm. He walked up to the field, performed a basic simulation in his mind of his intended action, and speared the rod into the dirt just adjacent to the hedge but not touching it. And then he jumped. For the brief hop where he wasn't touching the ground Query reached out and pushed the rod into the hedge. Sparks crackled along the length of the rod as the electrical charge found an outlet. One down. It took two more metal rods and the blaster's disassembled barrel before Query heard the change in pitch of the electricity humming down the metal grounders. "Get ready. The system will be at the lowest power setting once the frequency of the humming reaches 31.7 Hertz. The readjustment will be rapid after that, so do not wait too long." Query set up a hard-set timed restart into his system, and waited. ...Now. Query ran forward, angling between the two largest metal rods, and leapt. Shut down Blackness...
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