Data-log:108223-4:Communication-Attempt 1:::Hopefully the Sentinel is not adverse to working with me because of dataform circumstances.::: Injection-Hand-held Net-Successful:Infolog. (Emitting from the hand-held net interface)"Sentinel Catella, forgive my intrusion, I am Dr. Metoros. In the process of conducting research of human interactions with alternate species your data has become interesting. Would you be amenable to my accompanying you on the mission assigned by the Monitor?"

Sym waits patiently for a response, after all time is an illusion, especially because of his circumstances. The interaction of all species with the construct of time is a constant source of amusement. They run about as if everything is moving so quickly. Perhaps the research will prove to the collected masses that time is nothing more than a useful tool.

Data-log:108224-1:Observation-Time:Subject-Interaction:Existence-Negligible:::Need to find a metric for disproving the measurement of the costruct of time, simple enough for common consumption.:::Research-Ongoing:Infolog.

Atellus was surprised by the sudden activation of his neuralnet handheld, and sat up, listening carefully. He gathered that the mission brief mustve been passed along to this... Person, but beyond that he had no idea who he was dealing with. But considering they had managed to access his handheld with an outside access... Well, he had paid good money for these security measures- Atleast, the vanguard did. He cautiously worded his response, intrigued; "Well... Doctor Metoros, i suppose that would depend on a few things. Like what you are, who exactly you work for, and if you can be of assistance to me." He sat back against the wall, getting comfortable and feeling a rather daunting weight lift from his shoulders. After all, if the good doctor here could hack his handheld, he might be exactly Atellus he needed.

"As to what I am Sentinel, to be precise I am a dataform. If you are not familiar with the term it is a being made of data, or an infomorph if you will. No physical body. My allegiance is to the Vanguard as a research and intelligence analyst. Although not many people beyond the Monitor know of my existence. If you will allow me to continue my research then there are a variety of things my current form allows me to do that are helpful." Symacchus patches over the screen of the hand-held displaying a face comprised of scrolling numbers and algorithms, "Access for electronics and neuranet connections is but a small fraction of functionality. Looking forward to the research collaboration." The face on the display appears inquisitive and waits for a response from Sentinel Catella.

@Brocktree

Atellus only really heard two things out of that explanation, and he tackled the most important first. "An intelligence analyst, huh? Excellent. Something like that was almost exactly what i was looking for- im sure i could find a way to accommodate your research in return for you assistance. That said..." there was something that was bothering- he frankly still had no idea what an "infomorph" was. He drummed his fingers on his leg for a moment, before sinply coming out with it. "Are you some sort of AI, then?"
@Tenslashsix

Symacchus twitches a digital numbered eye at the term AI. No, I am not AI. I was a living being, however now I simply am. There are some similarities but most AI do not possess free will. For my purposes however, if it makes it simple for you, consider the condition however seems most suitable."

The Dr activates the hololens in the hand-held device casting the image of a Kyrema into the dark room. Walking the image around to give it the resemblance of life might reassure the human that everything is alright. No need for the Sentinel to overwork his organic processor trying to comprehend. "The decision to inform the Monitor is yours. Personally secrecy sounds like a fair option. I do not enjoy interacting with command. Input the details you require and data will be amalgamated."

The holograph winking out and the infomorph now only present by sound Sym hopes this display has demonstrated his good will for Sentinel Catella. Ah, did not list his own requirements in order to advance the research. Nevermind. Best not overload the poor man just after learning of Sym's existence.

Data-log:108223-5:Contact-Successful:Sentinel Catella-Research Agreement:::In return for operations intelligence the human Atellus will provide Sym with a willing research subject for further observations:::Research Appendices A-Operation Intelligence-Encryption/File Security Established:Infolog.

@Brocktree

Atellus furrows his brow at the holographic kyrem and sighed- he should have figured that whatever it was talking to him was- to some extent- one of the xenos, no getting around it. He shrugged "It would be wise to notify the monitor you are participating- i'll leave how you do so up to you. Normally I wouldn't bother but the nature of this mission certainly seems sensitive." He looked the infomorph dead in the- eye? Does it even matter if its a digital something or other? He ignored the thought and continued on "I'll be leaving in roughly five and a half hours- be ready to go by then." Atellus gave one final nod before laying back down and lying the handheld on his chest, indicating he was finished. He waited before he was sure the infomorph was gone before drifting to sleep.

- Location: Hyperion Base, Hyperion, Solomon System -

There was a laziness to Adrian’s casual perusal through operator files as he stalked the halls of Hyperion Base, headed nowhere in particular.

The Warmaster stopped at a cafeteria inlaid into one of the walls if the section he was traversing, ordered a mug of nice Solumian tea, and sat down, content to rest for the current moment. He looked out one of the windows adjacent to his table.

Below him was the vastness of Hyperion, greenery for miles, spotted by silver, shining cities. In the distance, he could see the spaceports connected to their cities - massive towers with a tether extending at an angle from the top, ferrying passengers up and down from one of the planet’s orbital rings, just barely visible overhead, curving through the sky at the edge of space.

Dragging his gaze away from the paradise of the outdoors and beyond, Adrian returned to perusing files. He’d sent out the notice not too long ago, and was now perusing through general operators while applications filed in.

Hmm, he thought. Don’t have many nonorganic operators. Might be in store for an AI or two.

He set his search software to filter for available AI operators, and once again, lazily flipped through mission reports and infoanthropological studies. One stuck out in his feed - a newer type of combat drone - fully autonomous, piloted by a single AI operating at maximum efficiency. Very uncommon to see an AI devoting themselves entirely to one mobile platform. Very interesting indeed.

He made his decision, and queued up a communications channel with the Autodrone.

“ARC-309 - Kyuzo, is it? This is Warmaster Oswell. I’m officially inviting you to join the Special Missions Division.”

* * *

- Location: Hyperion Base, Hyperion, Solomon System -

The Kraian Monitor reclined in his seat, dawdling about as he continued to review psych evaluations of various operators. The was was a constant slow burn, but a burn nonetheless. He hoped there would be a pick-up in action soon as an excuse to get back out into the field.

He grew bored, and brought up a feed on local neuranet traffic.

Scanning the data for a few moments, his implants quickly identified patterns that they recognized and alerted him that Symmachus was roaming around. Farris wondered what he was up to, and thusly pinged him for a quick chat.

While he was waiting for a response, he resumed scrolling through his psych evaluations, one appeared that was due for review. Gunn, Margaret. Human. Weekly psych evaluations if not per-mission. Similarly, he sent her a generic message to report to his office for an evaluation.

After doing that, he further reclined in his chair and continued scrolling.

* * *

- Location: Hyperion Base, Hyperion, Solomon System -

Oh-four-thirty. The human Captain of the Sabre was stalking around the interior of Flight Deck 17, tea in hand, slowly sipping the steaming solution as she made her way to the viewing area. Dense fog rolled over the base in the early morning, shrouding the landing areas and the ships occupying them from view.

Only one massive ship was barely visible - the ship occupying the Patrol Craft pad: the eight-hundred-metre long Sabre. Perched on its three landing legs, and towering over the flight deck, it was a sight to behold.

They had a mission today. The Monitor had briefed her on it... well, briefly, the day prior. She only had a minimal part in the mission - mainly providing transport to one of the Sentinels - followed by a routine patrol of the Jíufeng planetary system afterwards. Not much in the way of warfare, especially in these times where the Colossus had infested every imaginable place, but she didn’t particularly mind. It was best to hope the blockade would hold up while the higher-ups worked out a counterattack - not the easiest thing when surrounded from all angles.

Evera took another sip of her tea. She shook off the thoughts and straightened her uniform. The Sentinel was due to meet her soon. She waited patiently, gazing out as the fog subsided and the might of the Collective’s smallest main fleet ship became visible once again.

* * *

- Location: Bounty Office, Agathos, Tyche, Solomon System -

Sabina still sat at the bar, waiting, when a thick finger tapped her on the shoulder.

She turned, looking over her shoulder to see Hyarti, one of the other specialist hunters that often swung by the Office. The towering Jazek had a smirk on his face when Sabina turned to see him.

“Hey Sabina,” he greeted her. “Got something for ya.” He stretched his hand out, offering a scrap of paper to the human sipping her whiskey.

She smirked back, carefully taking the paper and scanning its contents. It was a bounty, all the details carefully jotted down. Dead or alive.

“Huh,” she said slowly, nursing her drink once again, before looking up. “You’re not taking this?”

“Afraid not. Promised me family I’d be with ‘em for a few days, at least.” Hyarti scratched his head. “Figured you might be interested.”

“Maybe… any resistance expected?”

“Eh, maybe so, maybe not. Hard to tell.”

She returned her eyes to the paper. The bounty was pretty enticing… “I’d have to leave immediately,” she realized.

“That you do.”

She cocked her head to the side, considering, before taking her whiskey and downing the rest of it. “Guess I better get to it. Thanks, Hyarti.”

“No problem, Sabina. Good luck on this one,” the Jazek waved a casual hand upward as she returned her jacket to her shoulders and got up to leave. “See you ‘round.”

It was time to get to work.

* * *