rk800connor | for franciscoramon

for franciscoramon

[The damaged, and assumed deactivated, android had been set in the corner of Cisco's workshop to be inspected when he had some free time.

Connor was able to do some rudimentary self repairs, even while his main operating system was powered down. It was days after the fight when the circular LED on the side of his temple suddenly spun to life, blinking a slow, steady red.

REBOOTING...

LOADING OS...
SYSTEM INITIALIZATION...
CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... OK
INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS... OK
INITIALIZING AI ENGINE... OK
CHECKING MEMORY STATUS... FAILED LOAD MEMORY

ALL SYSTEMS OK

READY

The boot up was followed by a long read out of errors. There was significant damage to his arm and head, but more worrying than anything else was that the damage to his head had caused a massive loss of data. 93% of his memory was corrupted and trying to access the remaining 7% brought all of his processing to a stuttering crawl.

The LED switched to yellow, the light spinning in slow circles as he went through the arduous process of completely wiping his memory and reformatting the space to start anew. Luckily his basic programming had not been damaged.

Hours after his LED had first flickered back on, Connor opened his eyes and began to assess his surroundings, LED flickering a pale blue as he processed everything around him. He looked down at his body and held out his hand, doing a quick test of his fingers. His left arm was missing.]

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[ The left arm in question might not be attached to Connor's body, but it was not, in point of fact, missing. Cisco was bent over it, looking through a magnifying light at the interior connections near the wrist. It has taken a few days, for him to feel sure he is familiar enough with the design and all its components to start making repairs. He's just about finished with it when there is movement in the corner of his vision.

Which there should not be. Because he is alone, by himself, solo, just him, in his workshop. So of course, Cisco looks up, and he sees the android in the corner, the one that had broken into S.T.A.R. Labs and tried to steal one of his interdimensional extrapolators, move.

Naturally, Cisco does what anyone would do in that situation. He shrieks, and stumbles his way off the stool he'd been perched on, fumbling in his pocket for his phone. He's ready to press the panic button and summon Barry as soon as the thing starts getting up to the sort of fucked up Terminator shenanigans Cisco had witnessed last time. But it doesn't lunge for him. Doesn't even get up. It just.... sits there. Slowly, Cisco lowers his phone, though he doesn't put it down. ]

Are you, uh. On?

[Connor looked blankly at Cisco, a blank expression as he watched the man shriek and jump back. While he was reacting, Connor scanned his face, committing it to memory after finding no matches of it.]

I've rebooted.

[Connor hadn't said a word before. He'd been unnervingly silent during the entire fight. He felt no pain, so he hadn't even made a sound when his arm had been torn off. It wouldn't have been unreasonable to assume he hadn't actually been designed to speak. But here he was, clear, crisp voice, each syllable carefully enunciated in a pleasant, polite tone.]

I have sustained damage. Would you like a diagnostics report?

[He sounded almost eager to helpfully provide the information.]

[ What's creepy about Connor's voice is that it's normal. Sure, Cisco can imagine that there's a certain amount of awkwardness in the pronunciation, the cadence, the delivery. But it sounds way too much like a human voice for comfort.

So he keeps his phone in hand, moving away from the table where he'd been repairing Connor's arm to take a step or two towards him. Every muscle in Cisco's body is tense, in case this is all a ruse, or there's some kind of buffering issue and the robot will go back to its ruthless mission in a few seconds when some invisible loading bar reaches 100%. Under his breath, he mutters: ]

You better not be playing...

[ He foregoes the panic button, but raises his phone, not taking his eyes off Connor as he sends out a quick text: ]

SOS
TERMINATOR WOKE UP
HE IS TALKING TO ME AND NOT ATTACKING
GET TO THE LAB BUT DON'T COME IN MY WORKSHOP
MAYBE HIS KILLBOT MODE GETS TRIGGERED BY THE FLASH
MONITOR FROM CORTEX

[ That done, Cisco does the only thing he can think to do. He says, warily: ]

Yeah. Diagnostics report.

[The cautious warning simply earns a vaguely puzzled, quizzical look for Cisco, Connor tilting his head to the side slightly. He watched silently with obvious curiosity as Cisco did something on his phone, perfectly patient. He was quick to attentively meet Cisco's eyes when he gave him the command.]

Of course.

Vital Systems - Good. Regular operations and functionality available.
AI and OS - Good. Regular operations and functionality available.
Memory - Damaged. Unrecoverable. 93% corruption. Complete reformat was required for basic functionality. Reformat completed. 100% functionality.
Biocomponents - Missing. Non-vital components 222 through 229 missing - Right upper arm, lower arm, hand, thumb and fingers. [At this, he glanced over to his arm on the table. Disconnected, the limb looked white and robotic, very different from his fleshy looking body. His shoulder socket, however, was also white, some blue fluid visible from within.

He glanced back to Cisco, once again giving him a questioning look and a head tilt, LED flickering a light blue.] Was I damaged?

......Yes.

[ Cisco has no idea the capabilities of this robot. Could it be lying? Was what it said about its memory a ruse; does it have some kind of programming which, if a direct attack is unsuccessful, switches over to deception and other such underhanded tactics? It would take exceptionally complicated work to program something like that. But then, Cisco has never seen a piece of machinery as complicated as this before. And he knows, thanks to Gideon, that AI tech will be a reality in the future - within Barry's lifetime, even.

He also doesn't know if the robot can detect falsehoods. Goodness knows he's bad enough lying to humans, much less to something that might be able to read his heartrate or pupil dilation or creepy shit like that. So he doesn't lie. He just doesn't elaborate. ]

I'm almost done fixing your arm.

[ Best way to learn about the tech, after all. To just get in there, see what makes it work, fix things up along the way. Cisco makes no movement, either towards Connor, or the arm. He glances up at the ceiling, wondering if Barry and the others are in the Cortex, watching on the monitors. He sure hopes so. He'd love some backup if things start to go south. He can fight on his own, but he'd prefer not to... ]

So you don't remember how this happened? For real?

[Cisco was smart to be cautious. Any of his fears were very likely possibilities and might have even been the case had he not been damaged as badly, or even if he'd taken the hit somewhere else.

Connor's attention slips back to his arm before he looks down at his shoulder, trying to ascertain what exactly had happened. He looked back to Cisco, a sincere look on his face, scarily human.]

Thank you.

[The small, circular LED on his right temple flickered yellow as he tried and failed to piece together any of the very fragmented memories he'd retained. They were all but unsalvagable.]

I apologize, but, no, I can't remember. From what I can, I was damaged by an impact that briefly disconnected my central processor from my memory bank. This caused a corruption of the data there, though I am able to save new data. [And that's what a high velocity impact straight to the noggin' would do to you.]

I should know your name, shouldn't I?

[ Cisco tenses visibly when that light turns yellow, but it doesn't precipitate a shift in attitude or an attack. His jumpiness, however, is noticeable. It's a leap of faith, but he tucks his phone away, hoping that someone at least is up there in the Cortex, watching and ready to intervene if needed. He goes over to where he'd been repairing Connor's arm, picks it up, and walks towards the robot. ]

No, you shouldn't.

[ He's being careful with how much he reveals, but there is no way he could lie about that. His own unfamiliarity with the robot and its programming and workings is likely to be obvious within very little time. He isn't going to tell Connor about the attack, though. Licking his lips, Cisco quickly lies: ]

This is S.T.A.R. Labs. You just showed up, already hurt. Before you shut down you didn't even say anything.

[ Two truths, with one lie hidden between them. It's simple enough that Cisco does a half-decent job of it. ]

I'm almost done repairing this, but- you can have it back if you want.

[ He has just as good chances at fighting a two-armed robot as a one-armed one, and he figures it is an olive branch, in case the guy is telling the truth about his memory. ]

[Connor watches, seeming to keenly watch everything Cisco does, processing and analyzing it. His gaze flickers up from his arm to Cisco's face, studying it for a moment before tilting his head ever so slightly to the left, puzzled.]

And no one here knows me? [It struck him as incredibly strange that he'd find a place capable of fixing him by chance. Strange or lucky. But, by his calculations, the probability of him stumbling across a place like this by chance while in dire need and close to deactivation was less than one percent. However, statistically speaking, there was always a chance for unlikely events to occur.]

I don't want to trouble you, but... if you do not mind repairing it, I would be grateful. Is there any information about my design that might help you?

[He seemed genuinely eager to help, or at least help Cisco help him.]

[ The disconnect that Cisco is feeling between how quiet and polite this robo-guy is being now, compared to the whole 'silent stoic kill-bot' thing from earlier, is messing with his head. He doesn't let his guard down, but he nods, cautiously moving back and taking his seat in front of the arm once more. His eyes stay fixed on Connor, though. ]

Yes, please. What can you tell me, about how you were made, and when, and where, and all of that?

[ He had had time to figure out, by looking and guessing, almost everything he needed to know to repair the arm, but he's not going to miss an opportunity to probe for more information. And, he figures, if Connor thinks it is in his best interest, he might be more inclined to tell the truth.

Then, because he wants to see how Connor will react, he nods to the computer chair that is a few feet off from where Connor is, but still a healthy and safe distance from where Cisco's working. ]

Uh, and you can- have a seat, if you want.

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