DATA EXCHANGE [01]

[dialectics]

Characters: Legion, it's roomies, and whoever else!
Setting: Room 3-09 -> Terminal -> Elsewhere. Forward dated to Sep. 14.
Format: Action to start, can switch if you want.
Summary: System restoration complete, Legion wanders the Tower, gathers what it can from organics and the Network alike, and then proceeds to question EVERYTHING EVER.
Warnings: Not much. Legion won't attack unless it's directly threatened. Being adorable counts as a warning though, possibly.

[ROOM 3-09]


> SYSTEM IS RESTARTING.
> SYSTEM FUNCTIONALITY: RESTORED.
> VISUAL FUNCTIONALITY. . .
> VISUAL FUNCTIONALITY: CRITICAL FAILURE
> MOTORIZED MOVEMENT FUNCTIONALITY: CRITICAL FAILURE
> SERVER LINKS DISCONNECTED. GETH DATABASE LINK: OFFLINE
> PROCESSING. . .
> AUTO-REPAIR PROTOCOLS: OPERATIONAL
> STARTUP REPAIR BEGUN. RUNNING PROGRAMS.

[ The paralysis, for a machine, meant a dely in proper startup procedure. At first, the machine lies in bed, all lights completely off. Slowly, the lights blink to life, and a bizarre series of electric, click-type noises are heard. After a short time, the machine-creature sits upward, it's lamp-like eye taking in the surroundings around it. The first thing it notices is the collar in bewilderment, but leaves that for later. It gets up and off the bed, takes the notes, and no sooner looks at them before tossing them aside, reading the information far more quickly than any organic. It begins rifling through its trunk, pulling out various weaponry. ]

[RANDOM TERMINAL]

[ Now properly armed and back to functional operation, Legion leaves the dorm room. Its first stop is a Terminal in the hallway, where it downloads all it can to its systems about this place.
> BEGINNING DATA TRANSFER.
> DATA IS TRANSFERRING. . .
> CRITICAL ERROR: DATA BLOCKS IN PLACE
> REROUTING AROUND DATA BLOCK RESTRICTIONS. . .
> DATA TRANSFER COMPLETE.
> BEGINNING DATA ANALYSIS.

It takes around about a minute or so for Legion to read everything that has ever been posted publically on the Network since the beginning. Though to the untrained eye, it just looks like one machine messing with a weird holographic thing near another machine. ]

[EVERYWHERE ELSE]

[ Once this is done, it begins exploring the rest of the Tower, downloading every image into its database for immediate recall in case this becomes important. It was an AI on a mission: locate the missing Normandy SR2 crew, and the Commander. If they were here at all. If not, it was looking at a solo kidnapping. The Network showed no evidence of other crew, but... perhaps they had only just gotten here as well. The nametags on the doors however had proved futile, meaning the statistical probability the Normandy crew were here at all was... low.

Still, you may just even find this machine approaching you with a statement from its synthesized 'voice': ]

You are captive here as well.

Comments

[technologic]

[She doesn't want to squee over it and make herself look silly though. Even though it's very tempting to do, cause this is so cool-!]

Hm? Um, yeah, of course! What would you like to know first?

[dialectics]

[ The pause is about only a third of a second here. ]

Everything.

[ Legion. Legion, be more specific? Sorry, April, you will probably have to make a specific topic, it's kind of used to downloading large bits of information all at once... ]

[technologic]

[April blinks, before giving a small laugh.]

Well, I'll start off with where I'm from... [She pauses as she thinks for a moment.]

Back home, it's the year 2300 or so, and I'm from somewhere called the English Wastelands, though it was called England before the war. It's... pretty much a post-apocalyptic wasteland, so it's not that interesting.

[dialectics]

[ ... This bodes poorly if it's true. Especially if she's from Earth, since, well, the Reapers can't be done yet... ]

That would be a difference of 115 Earth years from our present date. That is disconcerting. You are not a colonist?

[technologic]

A... colonist? Nope, as far as I know, I'm from Earth...

... Why? What's wrong?

[dialectics]

[ ... Okay let's back up here. ]

We are fighting the Old Machines. Superstitious organics have come to refer to them as "Reapers". Their desire is that all organic life would be destroyed or repurposed until such a time as when they would use their constructs, the Mass Relays, and the Citadel to allow other races to settle, and the cycle of growth followed by galactic-level extinction would repeat indefinitely. This has been going on for far longer than can be documented. There is a high statistical probability that their next attack would head for Earth; Shepard-Commander destroyed their stronghold and the prototype Human-Reaper Larva, making her homeworld the most probable target.

[ In other words... ]

In short, it might be retribution. We are not sure if this would apply to every instance of the galaxy, but there would be a high probability that this may be true. The damage could also, however, be self-inflicted from war.

[technologic]

[Oh...

... Crap. April stares at Legion in stunned silence for a few moments, before shaking her.] Ah geez, n-no... I-I'm pretty sure nothing like the Reapers had appeared back home. I don't know much, but everything had apparently been wiped out in a mass chain of explosions due to the war a hundred or so years ago.

[dialectics]

[ Hmm. That is good, at least. No one would get anywhere if the old machines won. No one could make their own decisions. ]

Humanity would not be the first to create self-inflicted planetary damage. Splits in belief often cause war or isolation. Humans are not as fragile as most species make them out to be. They adapt. They change. Much like their planet.

[ It's interesting, really. You're easy to kill without armor, but you all adapt so well. It really admires humans. Even if it has a weird way of stating it. ]

[technologic]

[She blinks at it, before giving a nod in agreement.]

Yeah... Even with how much everything has changed since the war, we've all grown and adapted. And we're already working towards rebuilding things.

[dialectics]

[ So much admiration. ]

Rebuilding will not be easy for your people. It will take patience. But you are creating your own way forward. We approve of this method. Even the Geth have not been immune to faction splinters. Though we accepted the former-heretics when they renounced the old machines and allowed them back into the main network, there were still disagreements about allowing others to choose our future for us.

[technologic]

Ah, thank you... [She smiles, before her expression turns curious.]

... Geth? Is that what you are?

[dialectics]

Yes.

[ Briefest of pauses here. Perhaps she would like the alias instead rather than a model number... ]

We are Legion, a terminal of the Geth, as named by Shepard-Commander.

[technologic]

[She smiles again and gives him a nod.]

It's nice to meet you, Legion. I'm April.

[dialectics]

[ April is an interesting name, really. ]

April. The name of the Calendar month during which atmospheric conditions cause frequent precipitation on the Earth. Thirty days approximately.

[ ... Oh it's being kind of geeky again oops. ]

Acknowledged. We will look forward to data exchange.