[The first half of his statement carries, along with the cough, aiding Connor in locating Hank quickly. Off to the side, amongst a group of training dummies, very obviously not clear of mind nor looking well at all. Connor’s frown deepens when he sees the Lieutenant “strike” one of the dummies, setting it off into activity; something initiates in the code of his own reactive programming, making the android dart forward as if his parts were all made of coiled spring.
He closes the space during the wooden dummy’s wind-up, swooping in at the last half-second to stand between it and Hank, raising a forearm in a quick defensive position, taking the brunt of the blow. Connor doesn’t feel pain, but he can measure force of impact. He wonders if his false skin has shuttered back where he was hit — it was definitely hard enough — or if that part of him still remains deactivated like the rest, stuck in a state of permanent-false-skin. Wouldn’t be able to tell either way, not with his sleeve covering the spot.
Eyes narrowed, LED yellow, he throws out a command at the dummy—]
Stop. We yield.
[— wondering if that’ll be enough to halt it. If it even takes orders, as it should.]
no subject
He closes the space during the wooden dummy’s wind-up, swooping in at the last half-second to stand between it and Hank, raising a forearm in a quick defensive position, taking the brunt of the blow. Connor doesn’t feel pain, but he can measure force of impact. He wonders if his false skin has shuttered back where he was hit — it was definitely hard enough — or if that part of him still remains deactivated like the rest, stuck in a state of permanent-false-skin. Wouldn’t be able to tell either way, not with his sleeve covering the spot.
Eyes narrowed, LED yellow, he throws out a command at the dummy—]
Stop. We yield.
[— wondering if that’ll be enough to halt it. If it even takes orders, as it should.]