Was in the middle of a fight before I came here. My AS got busted pretty badly and I had to abandon it, but it looks like it arrived here in all the shifting.
This, my friend, is a third generation Armored Mobile Master-Slave System (or Arm Slave as we call them) known as the M9 Gernsback. Powered by a lightweight and high-power palladium reactor and an enhanced muscle package, this baby is almost as flexible and mobile as a real human, especially with the right operator inside.
Add in advanced vetronics, fire control systems, damage control, ECS, ECCS, and electronic warfare modules all run by an advanced artificial intelligence system and you have one sweet combat unit.
His name is Friday. Friday, say hello to Alphonse.
Palladium? That explains it... nowhere near that amount of technology in my world, and... amazing. The military in my old world would... would... well, they'd do anything for something like that.
[Al almost sounds fearful, like he's contemplating what such a thing could do, but at the greeting, his eyes widen.]
It's all in the artificial intelligence. Their primary function is to monitor the AS while we're fighting, but there's some degree of user customization--one of my subordinates gave his AI the voice of his favorite female singer--and the advanced ones can get... well, my other subordinate's AS cracks jokes. Learned them himself. Sometimes he goes off and learns information for himself. That one has all the techs puzzling over it.
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You new? Haven't seen you around before.
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Yes, I am. My name is Dearka Elthman. May I ask for your name?
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Melissa Mao.
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((OOC: Why, you almost have a JARVIS!))
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Perhaps you could explain the purpose of this particular piece?
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Add in advanced vetronics, fire control systems, damage control, ECS, ECCS, and electronic warfare modules all run by an advanced artificial intelligence system and you have one sweet combat unit.
His name is Friday. Friday, say hello to Alphonse.
-Salutations, Alphonse.-
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[Al almost sounds fearful, like he's contemplating what such a thing could do, but at the greeting, his eyes widen.]
... hello, Friday.
... you're sure he's a machine, Melissa...?
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