The Hunting Grounds IV: Drops Contain 0% RNG

[Recaiden]

"Wanted to see what you could do. You're not a bad fighter." The sniper explains, as if this is a perfectly normal reason to shoot at somebody.

"Now, this world is usually just called 'The Nexus' these days."

"What were you supposed to be doing?"

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

"Fighting is dangerous. You could have hurt yourself." She replies, seeming oblivious to the fact that a chunk of her torso was missing. "I do not know what I am supposed to be doing. I do not have any orders. If I do not have orders, I am meant to find someone who will give me orders."

[Recaiden]

Well, maybe damage to the robot isn't quite the same as injury to a human.
"Don't worry; I'd recover. The world is dangerous; one has to be prepared." The sniper explains.
Okay, a very formulaic robot. That can probably be worked with.
"What kind of someone is supposed to give you your orders?"

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

"I can accept orders from any human, though preference is given to humans who can produce a Kernig-Batula gene, a bill of sale, or evidence they hold a government office, in that order." She explains. "As long as I am able, I will attempt to carry out any such orders given to me."

[Recaiden]

"Uh, let go of me." The sniper says, trying to sound authoritative.

"Is the Kernig-Batula gene specific to your makers or something? I don't recall hearing of it, but then, there's so many genes."

"And how do you judge 'human'? I'm not sure there are a lot in leadership roles." Although if you widen it to any government position that's a lot easier to fulfill.

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

She releases him immediately, seeming to recognize his authority as a human being, if nothing else. "The Kernig-Batula gene is a genetic mutation first discovered in 2201 by geneticists Alfred Kernig and Amina Batula. The gene helps synthesize proteins that increase carbon dioxide tolerance, and serves as a marker that confirms terrestrial post-21st century origin, limiting the capacity of infiltrators." She explains. "I do not have strict criteria for determining humanity otherwise, but rest assured that I know it when I see it."

[Recaiden]

Once released, the sniper stands up and recovers the weapons, returning the sword to its straps to their straps and reloading the gun.
Then they slide up the faceplate of their helmet, revealing a young woman's face. Messy black hair, pale skin, eyes hidden behind sunglasses(?!), light checkered scarf around her neck.
"Did you have a lot of infiltrators...from the past, then?"
"I was born uh, I guess 2210. But probably not your 2210, you know?" without the helmet's distortion she sounds quite different.

"Anyway, it's dangerous for you to stay around here. We should try to get to town."
She points.

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

"Affirmative." She looks the woman over humming to herself.

>MEDICAL SCAN COMPLETE. SUBJECT POSSESSES MINOR BRUISES ON TORSO, NECK, AND ARMS.

That was consistent with the damage she'd sustain by being tackled by a robot. "You appear to be injured. Would you like me to carry you?" She asks, moving toward the woman with arms outstretched.

[Recaiden]

((Generally, I think the idea is that we shouldn't presume to even bruise another character, but, in this case it is fine. Most reasonable outcome.))

The further medical scan may well pick a few odd things: unusual structures in her brain, a very strange microorganism in her blood and saliva, and that there's a snake(? not quite?) in her pocket (the snake is in perfect health).

"No. Did you not just say 'minor'? And you are in- damaged, as well." She points to the sparking hole in the machine's cloaking system.
"Besides, I couldn't well defend myself while being carried." The woman begins walking through the trees, careful to survey the woods around them for other dangers.

"What were you built for? Anything more specific than 'obeying orders'?" She realizes just after that the question wasn't very specific, and a robot could well end up repeating the earlier answers.

[Ironsmith]

(I didn't think it'd be an issue, but if it's too close to the line, I'll ease up. Thanks for pointing it out. )

[The Machine]

"My designers built and programmed me for general labor and service." She replies. "The parameters of my design are to perform any task for which a human is capable, but unwilling." She bends down to retrieve the dislodged ribs before continuing. "My neural net does not contain any specialized modifications. In end-user terms, I am an untrained laborer."

That didn't sound quite right. She wasn't quite on factory settings, but exactly where the error was eluded her for the time being. "I have a query. If I am to spend any amount of time in your service, it is required that I be able to identify you to a third party. What is your name?"

[Recaiden]

"You can call me 'Hunter'. How are you identified?" Maybe not at all. Hopefully she doesn't have to name this robot. Terrible with names.

"Do you recall how you came to be here?"

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

"Naturally. My designation is Uh... sorry, brah. I think I accidentally your mom's maid." She blinks, knowing enough to tell that something had happened to her internal settings and she probably couldn't trust them. "...I do not have a designation." She amends. "My model is Galatalos. If you wish to provide me a new designation, that would seem a reasonable place to start."

"As for how I got here... I do not know. I was asleep during my transition from the factory, and I have no recollection of assembly or service."

[Recaiden]

Well, that explains a few things.

"I think I will consider a correct designation for a while."

"Would you like to explain your capabilities, other than running very quickly?" Hunter suggests.

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

She nods. Calling her "Galatalos" would be something like her calling Hunter "person", but it was better than a blank space or nonsense. Taking Hunter's suggestion at face value, she begins listing off her parameters. "I am capable of lifting approximately 500 kilograms over my head without assistance. My top speed recorded thus far is 54 kilometers per hour. My endoskeleton is rated to withstand 3000 megapascals of pressure. My-"

She rambles on about this for a while, listing everything from her material density to her download speed. She's clearly a complicated piece of hardware.

[Recaiden]

Hunter listens to the machine description, though only really remembers the main points. Very strong, fast, tough, high bandwidth...

"Do you know much about how you were made? About robotics at all?"
Really, calling Hunter 'Hunter' is a bit like calling them 'Person', but, as mentioned, they're terrible with names.

"You seem aware enough, and mentioned changes to a neural net, so...how are Galatalos models at making decisions?"

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

"I come equipped with enough technician's notes to carry out basic self-repair or instruct a human in the event that I cannot repair myself. According the synopsis of these notes, the data I have is roughly comparable to a human's understanding of their own body after a basic education and first-aid training."

Her tone becomes a little stiffer (if that's possible) as she continues. "I am, to a degree, self-aware, in that I can monitor my telemetry and recognize myself in a mirror or video footage. My decision-making capabilities have been carefully created from a database for all-purpose functionality. It is possible to alter my decision matrix by activating my training mode; improperly done, this can result in randomization and a loss of stability and core functionality. For your safety, please do not activate my training mode unless you have consulted a certified Applesoft engineer."

[Recaiden]

"So that scratch isn't going to be a problem?" Hunter points out the sparking gap in the cloak where she cut the machine. "Good."

"I don't think we have Applesoft around here."
"Is there a degree to which you're not self-aware?" It kind of sounded that way, mirror or not.

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

"I will require the appropriate tools, but the repair job itself is trivial, yes." She blinks uncomprehendingly at Hunter's last question, seeming to have difficulty parsing it. "Are you asking if I am sapient?" She asks. "If that is the case, the answer is no. Please do not pursue that line of questioning any further; my neural net is sparsely-populated with regards to that subject."

[Recaiden]

"Okay, sure. Don't need true intelligence to get a lot done."
And Hunter isn't aiming to give anyone sapience who doesn't already have it. That could easily be a disaster.
"How do you resolve conflicting orders, or orders from multiple humans?"

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

"I have a hierarchy in place, as I described before. KB-positive humans take precedence over KB-negative humans. My owner takes precedence over both. And a government official takes precedence over anyone else. In the event of a conflict, all I do is follow the highest authority I have on file." She pauses for a moment, humming to herself. "In light of recent events, until proven otherwise, I consider you to be my owner."

[Recaiden]

Hunter considers that for a moment, and slowly lets out a breath.
"Well. Pleased to have your help. Let me know if you find any KB-expressing humans."

"You seem like a 'Haia', how is that for a name?" Hunter offers.

"And, last ... topic for now, I expect, why are you disguised as a human? Did people not like the look of their own designs?"

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

Haia gives a little nod. "That is a good name. I will now respond to 'Haia'." She listens to the question about her disguise intently. "...The technical notes are unclear on this subject. They only describe it as a feature retained from previous models for 'high utility value', and have it labeled as an end-user customization option. I would infer that there are sentimental values ascribed to various likenesses my designers wanted to take advantage of."

[Recaiden]

"Customization, huh. Maybe later." Hunter dismisses the topic, while wondering. Is this the appearance of some specific person from another world?

"Any information you need from me?"
Or maybe it would be best just to give instructions without any context. Maybe a machine doesn't need that.

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

"I only require your name and facial structure data to register you as my owner." Haia replies. "Any other information you may give me at your discretion, or I will learn through observing you." She gives a little electronic chirp. "If it is not too much trouble, I am overdue for maintenance and require repair." Sparks spatter from her missing ribs, seemingly for emphasis.

[Recaiden]

"Can you tell me apart from other people with the same face? There's at least two."
Hunter looks at Haia for a few moments, glances at the sparks, and closes the face of her helmet again.
"We'll take the fast way back then. You won't have any trouble carrying me to the top of that tree, will you? Do that."

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

"In theory, I could do it better than a human could." Haia says, wrapping an arm around Hunter's waist. "In practice, it depends on how similar a face you are talking about. I should warn you: this will be uncomfortable."

She's not wrong. Her shoulder is a mechanical joint that Hunter can't even see properly because of the cloak, and it would dig into her stomach as they ascend the tree. Still, she does get them up there reasonably quickly, so it at least won't bother her for long.

[Recaiden]

Okay, yes, that was uncomfortable. But it was fast, and she doesn't come out here to be comfortable.
Hunter stands on a branch, holding on to the tip of the trunk.

Once you're up here, you can see a monster swooping down towards them. Like a large pterosaur but with too many wings, its needle-thin heads like something come up from the deep sea, its three tails have pincers and its pincers have eyes, its lathery skin colored in stark black-and-white.

"There's our ride." Hunter says, pointing to the thing. And in a few moments it will spread its wings to stall, try to grab them in its pincers, and swing them up onto its back, where it has an unusual saddle. Then it's back to soaring off over the forest.

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

Haia does not seem particularly bothered by the prospect of falling, but seeing the pterosaur seems to give her pause. In a human, this would likely be deer-in-the-headlights fear of a long-extinct airborne predator coming straight at them. For Haia, it was sheer disbelief; she had seen pictures of these creatures before, possibly even models, but they were gone before humans were even a genetic possibility and she'd certainly never had to worry about coming face to face with one.

Fortunately, she seems to have processed it by the time she ends up on the thing's back. Given what was possible, reconciled with what she could see, she could really only come to one conclusion.

"This is a big kite. Do you use it to get everywhere?"

[Recaiden]

"Hah, she's not a kite." Hunter answers, getting herself settled into the saddle and making sure Haia is at no risk of falling off behind her. For her, this is completely ordinary, an everyday experience.
"But no, I usually walk or ride a wurm, depending on where I'm going."

[Ironsmith]

[The Machine]

".. A worm." Haia blinks, not seeming to comprehend what Hunter was saying. Worms are tiny, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand if she were so inclined. How could Hunter ride one? It was impossible.

But Hunter wouldn't lie to her, right? And there was no way she could be mistaken; if she was riding something other than a worm, she'd know for sure.

But that was impossible.

But she had to be right.

But that was impossible.

But

>A CRITICAL ERROR HAS OCCURRED

Haia lets out a little hiccup, the only external sign that she was now hopelessly confused.