Chapter Text
Tonight is a loud night in the mobile hangar. The busy sound of the automatic repair system is muffled slightly inside the cockpit of an armored core. 621 pores over the graphs being shown in the onboard console as he taps on his keyboard, making changes and adjustments through his personal device. He hears a familiar high pitch buzz in his head for a split second before-
“Raven,” Ayre’s voice echo in 621’s head for the first time since touching down in the ice fields.
“Yes, Ayre?” 621 replies in his head, his fingers still working on the task at hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Making optimizations.”
“What kind of optimizations?”
“I’m trying to minimize the lag between my input and the core’s movement,” 621 says as he leans back in his cockpit chair. His fingers have stopped typing and silence falls inside the cockpit. 621 feels the familiar ring and interrupts Ayre before she can ask her question.
“In my head I dodged it. I dodged the beam that ripped off the left arm unit, coral aftershock included,” he says to Ayre before taking a brief pause, frustration palpable. “But in reality, that stupid spider took my left arm.”
621 leans forward and begins typing into his personal device once more, prodding the systems available to him for minute adjustments he can make manually. Everything seems so minor. Overclock the servos on the joints here, group the joints to fire off simultaneously instead of sequentially there. Doubt creeps in as to how effective these tiny adjustments he is making would be on the field.
“Raven,” Ayre chimes in after a few minutes of silence. “I’ve probed Allmind’s resources and it seems they have a way to install predictive AI into your AC’s systems.”
“Yeah, I saw that and rejected it immediately. The goal is to increase control, not surrender more of it. Plus, I've looked at the specs. The so-called ‘predictive’ AI only takes data from the AC sensors so it has no context on the pilot’s intentions. Definitely geared towards people who are more green or non-augmented humans. Way too risky.”
“There may be another way, Raven,” Ayre says after another couple minutes of silence. “Another way to minimize the lag between you and the AC.”
621 pauses for a bit, noticing the lingering hesitation in Ayre as she said that, before deciding that any idea is worth hearing.
“Do tell.”
“I may be able to directly translate your brainwave and synapses into input for the AC. In that sense, I would be able to function similarly to a predictive AI that could read your intentions and respond to real combat situations accordingly.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
“But it will increase the neural load from your Coral control device. That may or may not lead to unforeseen side effects.”
621 becomes still as he think about the ramifications and weigh the possible consequences.
“Let’s do it, Ayre,” he finally says after deliberating. “I will take the higher chance of being alive now. How do we do it?”
“I believe that is a discussion for when your AC is fully repaired, Raven.”
“Good point, Ayre. I should probably catch a few winks,” 621 says after a wave of exhaustion washes over him.
“Yes, at this point you have been awake since we sortied into Grid 086. That would mean you have been awake for almost 24 standard hours.”
“Huh,” 621 remarks in surprise as he hit the button to open the cockpit bay door. The door opens and he is assaulted by the loud noise of repairs happening outside. He pulled himself out of the cockpit and surveys the situation in the hangar. Allmind’s repair drones are doing minor repairs and is fitting a new left arm unit to the AC.
“Allmind gives an ETA of 6 standard hours until repair is fully complete, Raven. You should get some rest,” Ayre says, sensing 621’s question and answering it.
“I suppose I will do just that, Ayre.”
“It is very cold outside, Raven. Please stay warm.”
“I will, Ayre. Thank you.”