02-01-2017, 06:04 PM
The rest of the day was spent with the sound of soft thwumping from the ridge, where Chip was busy burying permanent anti-personnel and anti-vehicle STAPLEDs in a careful minefield, in the background. Carmelita was pleased that the non-lethal traps could be repurposed to protect the base from raiders, but when she mentioned that to Al3x the AI pursed his virtual lips.
“Yeah, about that…”
Carmelita frowned.
“What’s the problem? I thought the turrets were more than enough to deter raiders.”
The AI laughed.
“Oh sure, the disorganised ones will run at the first sign of difficulty, but they’re not the threat we should worry about. What we are is a juicy target, with a lot of reward for the nutcracker that breaks us open, and if any organised criminal decided to point a few groups our way once you get policing properly, we’d be up to our necks in rockets and trucks before you could say ‘Strategy’. What we need are shields.”
“Shields? You can’t mean large metal things to lug around and deflect melee weapons…”
The avatar twisted in mirth, the dust devil briefly dissolving into a bouncing swirl of virtual sand before reforming.
“No, I mean energy shields. Something to protect the turrets, to block the gates. Ideally we’d put small ones in place to pop up as cover for when we need them, link them up to the Control Tower and get them going.”
“Can Chip make those?”
“She’s a genius when it comes to tech, don’t get me wrong, but that mountain-climber dreams of the peak without seeing the shrubs for the trees. Chip’s been working on containment shields for these mobile drones, cute, bumbling containment at a pinch… but she hasn’t realised that she could easily use what she’s made already to set up static defences.”
Carmelita crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow cheekily.
“You really have hit it off with her, haven’t you?”
Al3x looked as though he was about to object, before twisting his face wryly.
“I guess I have.”
---
Carmelita spent the afternoon with a base map and a permanent marker, jotting down where having shields would make the most sense. Al3x joined in, using his projector to simulate attacks from an army of raiders to a single prime.
Before darkness fell, Chip returned, exhausted but happy with her progress. When the two explained what they had been doing, she poured over the map with them, critiquing awkward placements and highlighting critical functions she’d put in the bases infrastructure.
The next day was spent with shovels as Carmelita joined Chip in both developing the field of traps and planting the shields in the ground. Though not finished, Chip insisted that she’d be able to handle the rest easily, especially with Al3x to keep her entertained. Carmelita held back a knowing smirk, and instead began looking into a suitable excuse to go to Camelot and look for a magic expert.
She found what she was looking for as she sat in her hammock before bed. A bartender of the Crescent Moon Alehouse had requested help on a Dataverse Forum, believing that his business was the subject of magical sabotage. Though he was waiting on the Camelot Guard to help, he had been told he was relatively low on the priority list, and was willing to get help from elsewhere.
Carmelita bid her friends goodbye the next day, setting out in what was now her third patrol car.
“Yeah, about that…”
Carmelita frowned.
“What’s the problem? I thought the turrets were more than enough to deter raiders.”
The AI laughed.
“Oh sure, the disorganised ones will run at the first sign of difficulty, but they’re not the threat we should worry about. What we are is a juicy target, with a lot of reward for the nutcracker that breaks us open, and if any organised criminal decided to point a few groups our way once you get policing properly, we’d be up to our necks in rockets and trucks before you could say ‘Strategy’. What we need are shields.”
“Shields? You can’t mean large metal things to lug around and deflect melee weapons…”
The avatar twisted in mirth, the dust devil briefly dissolving into a bouncing swirl of virtual sand before reforming.
“No, I mean energy shields. Something to protect the turrets, to block the gates. Ideally we’d put small ones in place to pop up as cover for when we need them, link them up to the Control Tower and get them going.”
“Can Chip make those?”
“She’s a genius when it comes to tech, don’t get me wrong, but that mountain-climber dreams of the peak without seeing the shrubs for the trees. Chip’s been working on containment shields for these mobile drones, cute, bumbling containment at a pinch… but she hasn’t realised that she could easily use what she’s made already to set up static defences.”
Carmelita crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow cheekily.
“You really have hit it off with her, haven’t you?”
Al3x looked as though he was about to object, before twisting his face wryly.
“I guess I have.”
---
Carmelita spent the afternoon with a base map and a permanent marker, jotting down where having shields would make the most sense. Al3x joined in, using his projector to simulate attacks from an army of raiders to a single prime.
Before darkness fell, Chip returned, exhausted but happy with her progress. When the two explained what they had been doing, she poured over the map with them, critiquing awkward placements and highlighting critical functions she’d put in the bases infrastructure.
The next day was spent with shovels as Carmelita joined Chip in both developing the field of traps and planting the shields in the ground. Though not finished, Chip insisted that she’d be able to handle the rest easily, especially with Al3x to keep her entertained. Carmelita held back a knowing smirk, and instead began looking into a suitable excuse to go to Camelot and look for a magic expert.
She found what she was looking for as she sat in her hammock before bed. A bartender of the Crescent Moon Alehouse had requested help on a Dataverse Forum, believing that his business was the subject of magical sabotage. Though he was waiting on the Camelot Guard to help, he had been told he was relatively low on the priority list, and was willing to get help from elsewhere.
Carmelita bid her friends goodbye the next day, setting out in what was now her third patrol car.