trans_9 | The Connors say hello meatship!

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The Connors say hello meatship!

With his bugout location secure, and now stocked with some food John decided it was time to get some weapons. Carefully he made his way to the armory making damn sure this time that no one else was around. He wasn't going to slip up again like he had at the Vatican.

Scrolling through the weapons in the armory computer he was impressed with the selection. Hell, some of these hadn't even finished being developed before Judgment Day occurred. If he wasn't god only knows where being ordered around by an AI, and it's slave crew he'd almost be happy about it. In a few minutes he had quite the list assembled. Double checking it one more time he submitted it to the computer.

[Access to that quantity of weapons is restricted. Please see the command staff for authorization. Any furthers attempt to retrieve weapons will result in you being locked out of this system until your access is reauthorized by the captain.]

He glared at the machine, and pulled out his computer. Interfacing it with the omnicomm he started searching for an access panel. Finding one he spent several minutes methodically prying it open enough to get to the console's guts. Patching in he began to run through sub systems one by one looking for a way in. Whoever had designed the security hadn't counted on someone for who information warfare was a way of life. Finally he found a crack in the armor. It wouldn't be pretty, and they'd know he'd been here but he didn't have a choice. It was act now, or let this opportunity slip by.

Running the program the computer began to send out the weapons to the caches John had designated. Now all he had to do was move them again so the crew couldn't track them down by just following the digital trail. Hopefully that would keep them guessing long enough for him to slip back to Grand Central unnoticed.

After another couple of hours he'd managed just that. Already he was prepping the weapons, and loading magazines just in case someone was smart enough to pick up his trail.

[ooc: Once again in case anyone wants it the list of weapons John has stolen is here. Once you see the sub-thread you want your pup in go ahead and tag it. I'll leave it to each thread to sort out their posting order. Have fun everyone!]

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Disembodied voices now? Someone must have patched into the PA system in the station, and decided to play games with him. The kids on this ship obviously had too much time on their hands. "To protect myself. I would think that would be obvious."

[ooc: You godmodded John just a bit there. Can you please be mindful of it in the future? I understand what you were trying to convey. Just please keep an eye on it.]

Sarah grumbled under her breath and slung the rifle over her shoulder, now that she was sure it was loaded and ready for use. She didn't, however, shrug John off but let the contact linger for longer than she might have. There were moments where she...needed the sentimentality, the trace amount of emotion, the mother that was barely there. The quiet and very silent thanks was there. Only John could see it when she meant it.

And then she was all business as she inspected the other weapons as carefully as possible.

"We have any flashbangs?" she asked after awhile. The sun grenades were a nonlethal option she generally favored when it came down to dispersing a crowd and stunning an enemy.

"So you're making a fort," Alessa said. Why did that seem so familiar to her? She was sure it had something to do with someone that the ship had not wanted her to remember, which was irritating but at most really brought no emotional response from her. People came and went on this ship: what did it matter to her?

"Why with all of those weapons? That's bound to bring the security team down here and get you thrown in the brig. I'm told that most people don't like being alone by themselves."

Samus was on her way even before Leon had contacted her. The ship had been quiet for awhile, too quiet. Something (something that will probably inconvenience Samus in one way or another) was bound to pop up. She just wished that it wasn't an inter-crew conflict. It's a lot easier to shoot away your problems when the problem isn't part of the collective whole you vowed to protect.

As she understood, a negotiation team was gathering. With any luck, she wouldn't actually need to do anything except be present for those "just in case" situations. Samus was hardly an optimist, though...

She suspected that if her services were required, she wouldn't need any backup. At the same time, she knew the majority of security was competent (for the most part). A little backup never hurt anyone...

Leon owed her a beer when this was all over.

Of course he saw it, and appreciated it. His mother may have been hard on him, but he never questioned her devotion to him. Even if it usually took the form of pushing him to be a great leader. It had payed off in the end.

John shook his head in response to her question. "Couldn't get any. Tried to find some HEDP 40mm too with the same result. It's in there, but it must be controlled by a separate security sub system from the other weapons. Don't think I'm going to get another shot at it though. Might have to watch the Security teams for a couple of days, and see if they pull out some heavy artillery. If they do we can wait till they break 'em down for maintenance, and then sneak off with them."

"Because they work better than bricks, and bare fists." Stupid kid. He turned back to his work, and double checked that the optic's mount was secure. "Security will have to find me first, and then drag me out of here to throw me in the brig."

Well if it wasn't Samus's favorite friend and another member of the security team. However, unlike most, if not all of their encounters, Kawalsky wasn't drunk or even getting there. The only mood you could ascribe to him at the moment would be determined and possibly cold. "You know anything more about what's going on?"

Alessa looked intrigued. "I'm well aware of that, since your kind is so prone to violence in the quickest way. Not that I can see where you would get bricks. Of course, Security WILL be here soon, and they will confiscate the weapons. They're fairly intolerant to these sorts of actions. So what exactly will this prove?"

She was actually interested now. Somebody who knew his actions would invariable lead to capture. Why do it?

Ronon turned up jogging, not entirely sure what was going on besides weapons being stolen. He'd heard the announcement Stacy made earlier - it was pretty hard not to.

"... Where is he?"

His gun was already ready in his hands.

"They won't." Like hell he'd let them capture all of his weapons. One of the cardinal rules he learned from his mother was to always have another cache. Cops never looked farther than they had to. If they got their bust they'd be happy, and you could just roll back in later to retrieve everything. "If you can't understand why I'm doing this that's sad. You must not be human. Are you one of those AIs I've heard about?"

If it was he was going to rip it's code apart.

"I guess telling them all of fuck off isn't an option," Sarah said, her voice dry as the desert without a little raw humor spilling through and slipping away like a passing tumbleweed. "Best bet is that the AI, Skynet, or whatever the fuck it's calling itself, will plug up that exploit in a hurry. Fucking shame. I'm going to have to figure out how to cook up some non-lethal bullshit by my-goddamn-self now."

She scowled and loaded another gun.

"If the motherfuckers let me near a lab." Which was about as likely as someone handing her a crate full of flashbangs. Bastards. "Well, the heavy artillery would be nice, but something tells me either they're gonna pinpoint us via some of this bullshit ring crap," she immediately wanted to try and crush it, " or go pussy on us and break out chemical restraints. Tear gas, knock-out, call it what you will."

"I don't know his exact location," but like hell Samus was gonna keep it like that, "I've got my motion sensors on. We'll track him down. As of now, I'd like to avoid using force."

"He hasn't harmed any one yet, and his comms are open. Preferably a negotiation team will talk him down and then we will apprehend him. If the situation changes, we'll modify that plan. Is that clear?"

Dustin threw a bark of laughter away from his comm ring, turning back with a sniff when he finished expressing his rude amusement. “It’s not the weapons I’m concerned with—you can keep the damn things for all I care, mine are better. Didn’t you understand me the first time? Your handiwork, John—“

Yes, he knew full well that the renegade understood what he meant, but it was fun to rub it in.

“—That’s a fun word for ‘hacking job’, by the way. The console might still be working, but you’re sloppy. It won’t get you very far if you want to permanently disable this thing.”

One of the crew actually wanted to help him? This was new, and interesting enough for him to overlook the man being an ass about it. It could be a trap, but for now at least he was curious. "The name's Connor, and I didn't really have a choice. More important to get access to what I needed then to make it out undetected. If I had a team I would have taken my time. Now what is this about permanently taking it out? You'd better be talking about the ship's AI."

Alessa flat out giggled at this, she had to. "You know, no one ever mistook me for the AI's on this ship! No, that would definitely not be me. They're the ones promoting all of that good feeling of cooperation with each other in order for the greater good of defeating the Ohm. I have no desire to try hard to band these people together. As far as I'm concerned, its only a matter of time before something devastating attacks. The Ohm will have little to fear from us. We're too unprepared."

She shrugged. "I'm a demon, actually. I have no real concern of what you do or don't. What interests me is the why."

"They don't seem to think there's anything to worry about with a fucking AI running the ship that we know has been withholding information, and systems control. Idiots!" He caught himself before he slammed the magazine into the table. Taking a deep breath he set it down, and picked up another. He wasn't happy he almost lost his cool there for a second.

"I can see about finding some chemicals soon. They probably won't have those locked up as tight as the weapons." Another magazine loaded. Calmly he moved onto the next one feeling more of his focus come back from his almost outburst. "If they do roll in here with anything like that we'll deal with it. Been gassed enough times now it doesn't bother me that much."

Funny—he didn’t seem too particularly skeptical of Dustin’s advances. He must’ve been pretty desperate.

“Yeah, yeah, of course you would,” the scruffy man waved his hand dismissively on the other end, though John probably didn’t catch it considering that this was an audio-only line, “And what else would I be talking about, your grandmother’s toaster oven? Quit saying stupid things and I might actually take you seriously.”

Oh, Dustin was enjoying this.

"You want to stop running your mouth, and get to the point. My patience is wearing thin." He only had so much tolerance for bullshit, and this guy had already used it up. "Now tell me how I can kill it."

"You're not human so you wouldn't understand." A demon, yeah right. How stupid did they think he was? More machine tricks that's all. "Besides if you don't care what happens to this crew you can just fuck off. I'm not here to hurt these people."

For all their stupidity they were still human, and thus worth saving. No point in winning the war if you destroyed the very think you were trying to protect.

"Been there myself on a number of occasions," Sarah said, moving onto the next gun with a scowl. "Chemicals would be appreciated." She didn't say a fucking thing about his barely contained anger. It seemed they shared that trait to a tee. Psychotic anti-AI, motherfucking rant on a goddamn stick.

The Connors (And Reeses) did that all too well.

Xander was a little out of breath from running. Hmmm... ok what would John Connor do? Probably grab weapons and find some place large with secure exits. He knew he had to be close by somewhere around here.

A scoff. Will do, Connor, will do.

“Well this master AI—Stacy—is already badly damaged,” Dustin explained with only the slightest tinge of boredom in his voice, “As far as I know the crew’s been trying to fix her for some time now. But I’ve taken a look at the codes, the security and repair protocols, and quite frankly there’s nothing we can do about it, either on the helping or the harming end.

“The only way to keep Stacy disabled is to keep her from repairing herself. And that would take some helluva subroutine—trust me, I should know.”

A pause, but the line was still on. Dustin wasn’t finished just yet.

“Needless to say, you’re going to have a hard time of it. And it doesn't deal with the organic tech, either.”

"I understand more than you do," Alessa said, shrugging. "For one thing, I've been here longer. For another, if you care so much about the people on the ship, you could start actually trying to follow their stupid rules. Doing this isn't going to earn you praise or make the situation any easier on this ship. At least I have my reasons for not following what we're told."

He was crude in a way, as expected from one doing something like this, but still was a sort of representation of the sort of people Stacy gathered to the ship. The more she looked at the way these people reacted to their situation, the more Alessa started to question how well Stacy actually looked at the people she saved. Grabbing at random would at least answer the question of why she was here.

Dustin had his full attention now. This was the kind of intel he needed. "I'll take your word for it on the subroutine. The security on the armory was bad enough. So how do we keep her from repairing? Is it something physical we can remove or damage?"

Once he had more details he could start planning something. Even if it left him exposed if he could stop the ship from exerting more control it would be worth it.

Mei Ling had already made it to the city and parked herself on a bench. She was extremely focused on the task at hand: locating John Connor. She was currently working on cracking the security he had put up around his communication devices and discover his location by tracking his comm ring.

From that, she could alert the security team to this information and open up a monitored line of communication between him and a negotiation team. She sent out a broadcast (http://community.livejournal.com/trans_channel/172502.html) in hopes that she could do something to help...

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The Connors say hello meatship!

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