Xomeron

IC:

It soon transpired that someone had stenciled "The Galaxy's only Hyperdrive Equipped Singles Bar" on the airlock of the Kestrel.

Ferret hairs were found at the scene.

Why doesn't anyone write sci fi about sane people anymore?

IC:

Can grinned at the duo from the kitchen door, mug of hot chocolate in hand. "So this is what High School is like on Earth." He commented, deciding to fulfill his snark quota.

IC:

"I'm not going to throw the book this time" Can said. "AI might be chaotic evil, but Ashley seems alright." Can's thoughts trailed off, and he was about to turn and talk to Estelle when Daniels spoke to her. "Well, that's a thing" he thought, before his computer beeped; at that moment, he realized he'd left a kettle of hot chocolate heating up in the kitchen this entire time, and rushed off to attend to it, keeping one ear on the action in the mess hall.

We also already have a doctor, Koth's character

IC:

Zhanar, seeing his path to the door blocked by an Engi, decided to attempt to make friends, beginning by handing it one of his ferrets.

IC:

Zhanar offered a slight distraction to the meeting by walking through it with an armful of ferrets; Can, who had been considering a retort, decided against it in favor of staring at one of the stranger sights in the ship as it passed.

The problem with digging your own grave is that there's no one there to help you out of it.

IC:

Can, who had been silent up to this moment, decided to speak up. "Colonel, I don't think the question here should be whether to transfer the doctor off of the Kestrel." He began. "I'm not sure how much you heard, but thankfully I recorded the entire incident between the doctor and Walker. I can play it back if you like, but to summarize, the doctor appears to believe that the proper course of action in response to verbal criticism from a superior officer is a shouting match. I'm not sure how we run things in the Fleet, but in the Planetary Forces that incident would have been grounds for a dishonorable discharge. Clearly, the doctor's psychological ability to perform her duties, much less practice medicine, ought to be called into question. If the incident she speaks of occurred on the operating table, she could easily relapse into an episode. I believe that this doctor is unfit to remain in the armed forces and unfit to practice medicine. She is a danger to the Kestrel's mission and to everyone aboard, and, in a broader sense, to everyone in the armed forces. I recommend a suspension from duty and terrestrial grounding pending a psychological discharge."

IC:

"Why would you keep milk in the fri-that's right, not in the Belt." Can shook his head. "Ships in the belt can go months without touching one of the Four or getting a shipment from a planet, all our milk is powdered." Can quickly recovered the milk, and set about making two cups of hot chocolate. "So, did you check up on Ashley? Having someone yell at you like that's gotta be nerve rattling...how old is she anyway? She doesn't seem old enough to be a pilot..."

IC:

"Souper where do you keep milk I need to know immediately" Can said, looking at the slug before checking cabinets; it didn't occur to him to check the refrigerator, because he had only ever known powdered milk.

IC:

"Better than the alternative, I guess. You think we should put in an official report about the angry doctor?" Can said. "I mean, the Colonel can look the other way if no one brings it up, but if we force her to officially take note, she'll have to respond somehow..." As he spoke, Can had wandered over to a cabinet and peered into its context. "Know what we could use? Some hot chocolate. I should check the Brasilia's shops..."

IC:

"Things have been hectic." Can said, then inhaled to read off the list. "The crazy doctor who yelled at Ashley is still on the ship, the computer is a full AI that has watched 2001, I just walked past Zhanar carrying a bunch of ferrets and copper tubing, and around a third of the ship's storage is now clogged because someone downloaded One Piece. You?"

OOC: Rand, what you said is wrong on at least three levels.

IC:

It was with an empty stomach and an occupied mind that Can wandered into the Mess hall, but when he spotted Estelle and Souper in the kitchen, he decided to poke his head in and ask "Hey Souper, mind if I scrounge something? I promise to clean up whatever I use...Oh, Hi Estelle."

IC:

Can, having set the computer's interface more to his own liking, decided he was hungry, after a day full of...everything, honestly, he was hungry, and headed off towards the mess hall and see if he could talk Souper into fixing him something outside of schedule.

IC: Can

"Good." Can said. "Computer; user interface directive for First Lieutenant Can Skinter. Revert user interface settings to what they were as of yesterday. Set text readouts as preferred method of output display." Can paused, considering limiting the computer's power more, then decided that was enough for his tastes; that, and permanently cutting the computer off from the teleporter. Can was pretty sure no one else on the ship understood exactly how much havoc the teleporter could wreak...

IC: Teleporter Room

With a crackle and a hiss, Can materialized onboard the Kestrel, having decided to take the quick way back. "Computer." He said aloud. "What level of access to the teleportation system do you currently have?"

IC: Ashley's room

"Should I even bother asking?" Zhanar said, doing his best not to drop the liquor while also keeping the Ferret under control. "Nevermind, buddy, I guess you're going with the other ferrets." The Zoltan said before walking off.

IC:

It was at this moment that Zhanar walked into the room, carrying seven bottles of liquor and a ferret. He stared at Ashley and her friends awkwardly for a few moments, before murmuring "Um. I think this might be the wrong room."

IC:

"Ma'am, if you don't insist on seeing the General any more, I have a solution ready to take us back to the Kestrel."

IC:

"Colonel, I am willing to drop this issue if you grant me a concession; permanently lock out the computer from the Teleportation system." Can glanced at his computer's wrist projector. "Allow me to install a separate, limited computer specifically to control the teleporter. My reasoning for this is that teleportation is very much not an exact science; it requires intuition and intelligence, not just knowledge and intellect."

IC:

"Those are machines. Not life forms. The Engi themselves are living things, even if they alter themselves." Can shook his head. "And colonel, by allowing this AI to become sentient, you made it our debate."

IC:

"Computers aren't alive, ma'am." Can said. "A computer can't soldier any more than a rifle can soldier. They're tools; nothing more."

IC:

"So you're going to put everyone on the ship at risk of betrayal from an AI on the off chance that we encounter a situation only an AI can handle?" Can glared at the Colonel. "This might be overstepping my rank, Ma'am, but I was put on this ship partly to represent the Planetary Forces; our position is that risking everyone's lives for a slight advantage that could matter in very specific circumstances is ridiculous."

IC:

"I've heard all sorts of reasons. That humanity has no right to create life; that AIs are inherently dangerous and bound to turn against their masters, fear from old films. Personally, I couldn't care less about the ethics, but if AIs are possibly dangerous, they should spend time developing in a research institute and being tested before being deployed on regular ships, and even then should wait before being deployed on a highly sensitive and risky mission that could very well turn the tide of the war." Can hadn't expected to talk as much as he did, but once he started he quickly put out one of his main two reasons, then decided to counter it with the third. "And they should do so by explicit order of the Federation council, not by a mid-grade command officer. No disrespect, Colonel, but are ship masters treated as absolute monarchs, or are they beholden to their superiors? Because something like this wouldn't last twenty minutes if a regimental commander tried it."

IC:

"A Military Tribunal sounds suitable, Colonel." Can responded as he fell into step. He had already assumed the "prisoner" role, walking with the Colonel in front and Harken behind him. He realized, though, that the drastic actions he had worried about wouldn't be on the table. He was, however, beginning to consider how command of a Platoon in a regiment of Zero-G assault troops sounded.