1285/Log

Log
Date of Scene:	04 July 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Bogatyr

---

Bogatyr has posed:
    A few years back, the place was apparently a customer complaint callcenter for a rental car agency. Then everything got outsourced, and most folks aren't exactly rushing to pick up a corporate office next to train tracks with minimal parking. It does however have a high concrete wall that surrounds it, inside of which is another perimeter of chainlink topped with barbed wire fences. The code Bog supplied is enough to get through the gates, and it's also enough to open the loading dock gate. Which, with the ramp Bog has welded up permits one to drive a car right into the otherwise kind of cramped loading dock.
    Beyond that, the place is a testiment to outsourced corporate slackery, the cubicles have been disassembled at least and the paneling made into neat stacks that conviently block most of the windows on all eight floors. The transformer outside, the millions of phone lines clogging the ceilings, and the heavy industrial buildings which surround the place have an advantage though. They go a fair way towards blocking wireless signals, but well there are plenty of hardline connections here. The lights mostly work, the water's been turned on and really in general the place is a convient husk.

    There is though just past the loading dock on the first floor, at what used to be a reception area? There's a neat handwritten note beyond the ancient phone left plugged into the wall.

    "Hello Friend, Dial B for Bogatyr."

Bogatyr has posed:
    It's an odd sound, a soft whirring of electric motors until it comes into view. A little sphere about the size of a basket ball, which splits and unfolds into a decapod sort of walker. It's upper portion unraveling to expose a million little wires and sensors under armored glass. It stands still for a moment, before in neat dotmatrix print the glass globe resolves into a simple if curved screen.

    User:Molly
Status:Authentication
....One moment please....

    The dome flashes green, before it starts trundling it's way towards the elevators. Text resolving that tracks your position around the globe "Bogatyr Under repairs, please follow me. Destination workshop, Estimated travel time is two minutes."

Bogatyr has posed:
     "Primary offensive systems offline, Primary and secondary defensive systems offline. Drive systems offline. Secondary sensory systems offline. Primary, secondary and emergency cooling systems offline. Bogatyr combat chassis 387 has been deemed unsalvagable. Chassis has been flagged for destruction. Bogatyr Combat Chassis 388 is 99% complete. Expected completetion time, 19 minutes. Workshop defenses are nominal, primary workshop sensors nominal and green. Damage sustained to JagdTiger Mk.18 Mod.22 "Super Good Advice" was terminal at time of battle. 100% recovery completed." Which is a lot of text, but well it's not a fast walker. Once in the elevator, it keys the numbers wirelessly with a specific sequence. 6-6-1-8-2 and with that the elevator begins it's descent..which similarly will take a moment."Are you Hungry, USER:MOLLY?"

Bogatyr has posed:
    "None, L.S.A terminated with prejudice. Hetzer MK.1 Mod.2 "Grave Breaker" online and ready for combat action as necessary."And finally the elevator comes to a halt, and the little guy trundles out. Leading down a long straight hallway to a massive vault door already swinging open. The Workshop is, where Bogatyr hangs it's hat it seems. Racks of equipment in neat rows, from archiac equipment reproductions to countless variations on what looks like current issue gear for Bog to chose from. Countless smaller drones scuttle around too and fro, attending to god knows what.

    What's left of Bog's old Combat chassis lies on a heavy table, where it's been carefully layed out and peeled apart. Exposing a mixture of thermal and kinetic damage that's rendered it a black hulk. On the table beside is the "new" Bogatyr apparently, it's chassis still lacking the heavy armor plate to finish it off. Miles of wires, fiber optic cable, hydraulic lines, pumps, resevoirs, synthetic muscle packets beside exotic brushless motors and goodness knows what else. Sans the armor it looks even less human, but it's at least recognizable. A tangle of robotic arms still at work, piecing it together by the inch.
    The Drone in question is parked further on, just a shape in the dark for the moment. "Hello Molly.."Comes a familar voice from, nowhere in particular. "I do sincerely apologize for this most unforgivable inconvience, I'll be mobile in just a moment. Can I fetch you tea or..anything?"And a drone does come by with a comfortable looking high back chair, which it parks well..wherever. "Oh and I keep forgetting, Would you care for me to have a look at your pistol for you?"

Bogatyr has posed:
    "No, This was an independent event. If you forgive the course language?"Bog pauses as that new chassis sits up, and well the audio shifts over there. "Ahem. I killed that bitch just about as well as I've ever done anything in all my days. Her name was "The Queen of Spiders" and she attempted to unleash a plague of man eating spiders on the city. I took exception to her plans, and I attempted terminal diplomacy immediately. Complications arose with the amount and strength of her offspring which aided her in the fight, as I have limited battery power at full combat output I was forced to fight fast."Slowly it sits up, extending out one arm then the other as that armor is slipped and bolted into place.

    "Anyway, I delt with her and thermally cleaned her worksite. I verified the extinction of her spiders, and was able to limp my way back to somewhere I could be retrieved."And finally rising from the table completely with a waver. "Apologies I usually only upgrade one system at a time, however this experience has brought to line a number of flaws in the previous design. I will be a little clumsy for a moment."and well Bog looks, exactly the same as it did before. Gold scrollwork is different, but that's really about it.

    "Anyway did the facility upstairs meet your standards? I was going to prepare the top floor for habitation, but I felt that might seem presumptious of me and I wouldn't care to be rude. Now then, if you won't let me fetch you so much as tea. Can I atleast see about getting you some more ammunition for your pistol, or something new perhaps? It's the least I can do, truly."Bog keeps it's distance, and well it doesn't quite look quite so steady just yet. Who knows how much Bog even weighs so, thats probably wise? "It's not as though I have any other friends to do things for Molly."

Bogatyr has posed:
    "I do all my own designing and upgrading, though much of that includes replication of existing systems so I can examine both theory and practice."The last bit of that armor is settled in, and Bog gives an almost human roll of it's shoulders. "My own hardware is on the line certainly, however I have backups. A full systems failure in the field however may lead to the failure of a mission, and the preventable death of innocents. I am unwilling to put that responsibility on anyone but myself. No offense, but I am a vastly superior engineer to any human."

    "I am uninterested in the above surface property, you may have use of it for however long you need. Just tell me what you'd like, and I shall endeavor to deliver a living space suitable to your specifications."And a pause as it accepts first a round spike of a "Dagger" followed by a sturdy looking revolver. Stashing both in neat little pop out sleeves hidden within it's thigh armor. "I've never built anything for humans beyond machinery, so this is a task I find extremely interesting and suspect I will greatly enjoy this new design project we have together."

    Finally it offers a hand over for that flechette gun, because well it needs to study the thing first of course. "Incidentally, how does this perform. Does it satisfy your expectations? Would you prefer something more, current generation or does this have specific sentimental value to you? Also, whilst I'm at it. Do you require any other arms or munitions?"

Bogatyr has posed:
    "I was obsolete the day I came online."Bog offers as it accepts that Flechette pistol, before stepping back towards the tables. Those tables sink into the floor and a new workstation rises from the floor, decorated with a little hula girl and everything. From there it begins it's work. Carefully giving the thing an external study, before slowly and cautiously dismantling the thing to it's last screw. "You are not Obsolete here, but if it puts you at ease I would be glad to give you a look over when we're a little more settled in. "From there, drones get to work selecting stock materials and rushing to various machines to get to work.

    "Have Lucy prepare me a list of requests then, and do your best to insure that neither of you ask for only the "basics". Luxuries are necessary, and providing for them grants me an insight I would otherwise lack in the first person."It's already starting to piece things back together like it'd done this a million times before. "I have detected several manufacturing imperfections, which will have a direct result on performance in aproximately three hundred seventy nine thousand rounds. I will have a fresh example prepared for you immediately."

    "In addition I may have a pair of supplimental weapons you will find potentially interesting."Rising slowly to offer the Flechette Pistol back as if it were made of crystal. "Early in my development, I was somewhat nieve. My early chassis had no provision for combat, I was satisfied then merely to explore the world around me. When I was involved in my first altercation, a civilian was murdered. When I attempted to apprehend the guilty party, It was the first time I had ever touched a living person. I did not fully appreciate how delicate humans are, and as a result I put my hand through the man's chest up to my elbow and partially amputated his left arm."And now Bog's off, walking towards those racks of arms. "My immediate response was to construct a series of smallarms, which may prove useful to you. Is there any cross communication between your hands and your eyes, are they networked at all?"

Bogatyr has posed:
    "Then their original sighting systems will be sufficient for your needs, I apologize if they are not exactly up to the usual standards of my arms. The recoil impulse of most of my arms would shatter every bone in your arm unfortunately, low impulse weaponry is not something I spend much time on."From the racks it fishes a pair of weapons. The First is, well it's got a lot of plastic. It's not unlike a P90 in it's shape, though it takes a rifle magazine rather than the top down casette of the P90. It's light and comfortable, as well as narrow which means that it'd hide under a jacket fairly well. The foreward trauma plate which surrounds the muzzle is decorated with sharpened pyramid shaped teeth. So it's, well it's a mash up of P90 and Magpul PDR. Judging by the length of pull and where the various controls are all layed out, Bog's older bodies must have been more..Molly sized.

    The other is, well it's a short bullpup shotgun feeding from a small detachable magazine. The two designs are obviously similar, in shape as well as just how light and relatively minimalist they are. Uptop the pair wear simple holographic sights, which conviently fold down flat. Flashlights integrated into the chassis and well, these may well have made a splash in Molly's own timeline. "My Experience with biological systems is extremely limited, but I will happily see what I can do. Would you like to test these by the way? The carbine incidentally fires five five six, which is the common military caliber of this nation. It takes the associated magazines, and this can be procured widely. The other utilizes a custom magazine, but the twelve gauage shotgun is amongst the most popular weapons in America. It is rated to take essentially any variety of this caliber you are able to source. These would be less, eyebrow raising than your flechette and may render superior damage against un-augmented individuals."

Bogatyr has posed:
    "Combined, those two weapons cost aproximately thirty two dollars. I spend more than that on paint for my shield, it is of no consequence."Bog rounds up a small tray of ammo and magazines from a passing drone, before it starts off. Workshops drifting down into the floor. Replaced with a single bench and a target at the far end of the room. "Carbine first. Saddle up cowgirl."Bog sets the tray down, and begins shoving ammo into plain jane STANAG magazines. "Such things are never necessary, until they are. Violence is a currency unto itself, and some men deal exclusively in this currency."

    Bog nods downrange. "Insert magazine, grasp charging handle and retract fully to the rear. Upon stop, let it fly foreward under it's own spring tension. Safety is a rotary knob on the left and right. Down for Semi followed by fully automatic. The Optic is an auto-on affair, simply flip it up and it will be zeroed onto the point of impact at twenty five meters."

    "Sunglasses are a common fashion accessory, and your finger augmentations are unheard of at this time. You are completely unknown, and wholly unpredictable to the concerned parties. If you are incapable of insufficient force, you have a friend."Bog sets a series of loaded mags aside, before it starts with the shotgun mags. "They are strong, but I am beyond all strength."

Bogatyr has posed:
    Everything moves, from the polished detent ball for that safety to the draw pivot on the charging handle. Everything is like buttered glass and silk, there are no sharp edges. It doesn't ring or hum when fired, It just pushes back softly if gingerly. It's accurate as well, those rounds hit the target with an audible -PONG- wherever they're directed. No surprises, no unpleasantness. It's comfortable and controllable, even if the automatic rate of fire is a leisurely seven hundred rounds a minute or so. A carbine capable of dramatically more precision than just about any human rifle at any cost. The Bogatyr's biggest strength is thus revealed. It creates seemingly perfect things, beyond the grasp of all human design and production. It's downright magical.

    "No but you may wear sunglasses over them, at least in the short term. In the long term I will ask around, but I will warn you I am far from popular."It offers over the Shotgun when she's ready, and a few of it's stubby little five round magazines. It may be autoloading, but it's got no provision for fully automatic fire. Bummer.

    "I will support whatever decision the two of you make, it is not my war to fight. It's not my role to make decisions for humans, you would be less for it."That big combat drone is apparently attracted by the gunfire and it heads over at a leisurely pace. This example is, well more crablike than anything though it seems to prefer moving foreward rather than scuttling to the side. Short lengths of chain clinking as it moves foreward though it stops at a distance off to one side. Content apparently to fold it's claw like manipulators and just watch.

Bogatyr has posed:
    The shotgun is, much like the carbine. It's heavier, theres more recoil but it patterns beautifully downrange. It's a beast for certain, and not an unpleasnt one to shoot for certain. The sight is different though, because rather than a dot it's a ring which expands or contracts based on distance with known loads. Surgical precision indeed.

    "I am a crass instrument of destruction. I believe in providing my foes with a profound litany of violence, to paint the walls with blood. All who stand before me are as dangerous as rabbits are to a bear, and I believe it is best that they understand. There is no stopping me, there is no negotiating. I do not rest, or grow bored, or distracted. I will devote every moment of every day, to their complete ruin."Bogatyr isn't one for half measures either, but it's already said as much before right? "I also believe that my opinion is based on my own immortality, structural resiliance and considerable resources. I do not think or act as a human, or as any biological entity does. So my opinions should not be taken as fact, because logic is only half of war. If it were me however, they would not have enough remains to process DNA for identification. I would have made it bold and clear to any and all, that corporate slavery will be punished with immediate indescriminate retribution. That Somone who cannot be stopped, will come down on them like the holy ghost and visit plagues and despair upon them."

    "I am the child of Humanity Molly, I am the end result of thousands of years of culture and invention. Millions stood and fell before this day, to lead to my construction. Millions more rose and fell to permit the knowledge necessary for my awakening. None of that would be possible, if humanity allowed itself to be bound by -willful- corporate slavery. I do not care if I am liked or hated, if I am respected or dirided. I care that Humanity survives, and thrives. To this end, I have no limits on brutality I would visit upon them."

Bogatyr has posed:
    "They will find it very hard to keep the authorities out of their business, when I raze them to the ground and scatter what remains of those who worked there to the wind."Bog drops a hand to snag that heavy revolver at it's thigh. "I was once property of a government, who owned corporations. I understand a great deal of the way they think, I ran their companies for them."And well it's not just loud it's -LOUD-. You can feel the raw concussion wave in the pit of your chest.

    That bullet strikes downrange and the panel which weathered all that fire with little but minute potmarks, shatters like so much glass. Point made, Bog reholsters with a artful twirl, before it's pulled back away. "I don't want to just stop them. I wish to make a black mark, to signal what happens when these games are played. I will be hated for it, but perhaps in doing so I will also be better understood."