Byond ID
Edda
Marine name
Finnian Cottier
Frequent xeno player, typically of the spitter caste
Name/designation of the synth character you’re requesting to use
Robin
Are you familiar with the Synthetic Programming & Guidelines
Yes. I additionally note, in light of Robin's quirks, that I explicitly understand that Robin must ask a department head's or aCO's permission before assisting them in their respective affairs.
Synthetic character story
Reactors
► Show Spoiler
It was the third month of occupation of Kepler-442B and the Almayer's fusion reactors were already showing their wear. Expended cells littered the cold metal floor and what reactors were still charged would soon sputter out. The former chief engineer had entered long-term cryogenic storage on account of Space Sleep Disorder—an ailment which Weyland-Yutani had been actively working to prevent, with little success—and it was left to Robin, a synthetic in the service of the Colonial Marines, to fulfill the chief's former duties.
Easy enough. Robin is, if anything, overqualified for the job. This is something normally left to the maintenance technicians, were they not all planetside repairing Heart Valley's crumbling civilian infrastructure.
Twenty minutes pass of Robin silently exchanging cells, reattaching reactor lines, and lowering fuel rods. It was a technical process which she made look effortless. The reactors hummed and pulsed with blue energy. The spent cells were lined up by the supermatter charger. All was right with the world. Robin hummed a self-satisfied tune.
Then she noticed the cut wire.
► Show Spoiler
"You didn't cut it?" The chief of the military police raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Maybe a dumbass MT did it. We brig them all the time for stupid shit."
"The wire belongs to the rod control systems," said Robin. "It relays the optimal I/O stream in the reactors and is not a part of the normal maintenance process. Deductively we are left with a high probability of sabotage."
The chief sighed and turned to a staff sergeant. "Go with the synth and scan the wire. Don't fuck this up and get your prints all over it or I'll brig you for stupidity." Turning back to Robin, the chief continued. "If this is sabotage—and I'm not saying it is, but if—then the 'friendly' colonial administrator is our prime suspect."
Robin nodded. "Given the level of guerrilla CLF resistance the marines have encountered in the northern jungles, it is hardly unexpected that our colonists are relaying information to our adversaries. I am still skeptical about this conclusion."
The chief laughed. "You mean that the CLF can even run spies? Yeah, didn't know they had it in them. Thought they were just a bunch of rebellious teens playing as grown-ups with guns."
► Show Spoiler
Sleeper. Dialysis. Cryogenic tube. Thirty Kelvin. Ten units clonexadone. Nanopaste for the cardiovascular and cranial haemotomas. Robin's blood-streaked gloved hands delicately inserted and operated the complex medical instruments within the series of small incisions across the colonial adminstrator's unconscious body.
Ten minutes passed. Robin hummed softly as she worked. Assembled outside was a disorganized group of military police and Bravo Squad marines waiting to see what would happen.
"I can't believe the colonists fucked us like this," whispered one marine. "Aren't we helping them?"
"The colonists' boss, even," murmured one of the police. "The head honcho. Is that synth singing?"
Soon enough, the operation finished, and a bleary-eyed administrator woke up. Despite his best attempt, his suicide failed, and he would now be questioned.
► Show Spoiler
"You are a real ungrateful prick, you know that?" said the commander. The colonial administrator was tied to a chair. The bridge was quiet as the staff officers, the executive officer, and the rear admiral watched on. Robin stood by the doors alongside an assortment of military police and several Colonial Marines Force Reconnaissance operators.
The commander continued. "Millions of dollars of bridges, facilities, and medicine from the US government and Wey-Yu, and you still try to kill all of us? You're getting the chamber for this, you know. I'll look into perma instead if you name your CLF co-conspirators. Besides the dipshit of an MT you convinced to go along with you."
The military police chief stepped forward and cleared his throat. "The MT was, as best as we could determine, not involved in the sabotage. The extent of his involvement was he was bribed with alcohol and allowed the colony admin access to the reactors."
"He's still getting Mateba'd," said the commander, crossing her arms defiantly.
The administrator, his dosage of chloral hydrate wearing off, was now focused. Gone was his bluster. His eyes were bloodshot but he laughed. "Co-conspirators? You marines never understand. What the fuck do you think happens when you're gone? What, were you going to stay over the Valley forever? When you brave marines eventually leave, we're all alone out here, and what do you think the CLF does with us 'imperialist collaborators'? We get nailed to a fucking cross and are left to be eaten alive by the beasts of the jungle." The administrator spat on the ground. "What I did, I did for the survival of all my colonists. I will not apologize for it."
The commander opened her mouth to speak, but the rear admiral shook his head and stepped forward. The rear admiral said, "I believe it is high time the USCM stamped out the resistance. My Force Recon boys are aching to fight. We know you met with the CLF at some point, because otherwise you wouldn't know which wires to cut. Tell us how to find your CLF friends and I won't begin randomly executing colonists."
For the first time, Robin spoke. "That's a war crime."
"I don't give a fuck, synthetic," said the rear admiral icily. "Pipe down."
► Show Spoiler
They thought they were fighting the CLF. And to an extent, they were. But this deep in unknown territory, Robin quickly realized that it was not CLF they were facing, that the colonial administrator's contacts were not CLF. She realized this too late.
The Force Reconnaissance operators fought well. Against CLF they would have cut through the enemy forces like a hot knife through butter. But against this enemy the priorities changed.
They were fighting Vega Group commandos from the UPP. Force Recon was good, but so was Vega Group, and Vega had the element of surprise. The dropship Robin was piloting was shot down, and it was only due to her piloting skills that she managed to crash the ship in the jungle with her Force Recon passengers relatively unhurt. A perfect crash-landing, if you would, but nothing about their situation on the ground was good.
The fight only lasted for minutes. When the last Force Recon operator was shot down, Robin found herself all alone in the alien jungles, sitting against a tree, her limbs mangled by Vega's 7.62 millimeter heavy rifle rounds.
The UPP commandos approached.
"This means war," said Robin calmly, appraising the commandos before her. "Why support the CLF on a colony like this one? What do you hope to gain?"
A commando leered back at her. "Can't let your imperialist influences infect everywhere." His voice was deep and heavily accented. He raised his rifle to Robin's head. "If your owners trusted you, they'd give you guns. It's shame. You could've saved your 'special forces' friends. Goodbye, synthetic."
A gunshot rang out, and Robin's world went dark.
► Show Spoiler
"Is that all?" said the rear admiral. "Your memory is correct? The hash checks out?"
"Yes," said Robin. All they could recover of Robin was her fragmented head, its top-left cranial hemisphere blown out with its white gore splattered everywhere. But Robin still lived, by some miracle. The bullet missed her main processing centers, and now she was safely recovered and once again aboard the Almayer.
"Then, as you say," said the rear admiral, "this would mean war—if this went public. Your records have been securely forwarded to the Activity. They will analyze this information and decide what to do. I wouldn't bet on a war; nobody wants that. Maybe we'd send a paramilitary response to counter the UPP."
"Vega Group is concealed but their presence here is strong," said Robin.
"Our boys in DEVGRU are better," said the rear admiral. "You've done well, synth. Unfortunately, we must wipe your memory centers. I'm sure you understand. High Command, however, is willing to pay to refit you completely. Brand new body. Brand new headcase."
"...Yes, sir."
An hour later, Robin exited the staging area, fully repaired. She looked brand new. One would not think that less than a day ago, Robin was merely two-thirds of a head lying in a jungle swamp.
Walking next to Robin was the rear admiral. The Almayer's commander was waiting by the entrance for them. The commander saluted to the rear admiral and said, "I think I deserve to know what happened to my synth, sir."
The rear admiral shot the commander an icy glance, turned to Robin, and asked sardonically, "What happened in the jungles, synth?"
Robin opened her mouth and shut it. She was confused. Something in her memory centers was not working. "Nothing, sir," she finally said. As if to reassure herself, she began to hum.
Robin is a synth with a curious streak. She will poke at and pry into the affairs of others without being asked to. This has the benefit of her knowing which departments need her assistance and allows her to prioritize tasks, but the behavior may be seen as annoying to those used to more reserved synths. Other side-effects of her programming are that she will occasionally try to seek out xenomorph specimens or yautja technology. Her quirk is sometimes misinterpreted as talkativeness, which she can seem at times due to her curiosity. Her quirk is often misinterpreted as independence, but as a synth beholden to her programming, what curiosity she possesses only influences her behavior within the bounds of her orders and limitations.
Oh, Robin also enjoys music and likes to hum.
How familiar are you with support roles?
I can be said to "main" support roles, primarily the roles of squad engineer, squad medic, researcher, pilot officer, and chief engineer. I occasionally run staff officer and military police. I consider myself very familiar with all the listed roles, and know their ins and outs well. On the other hand, I have never taken any requisitions roles, but have passing familiarity with them since they're central to every round of CM.
Why should we whitelist you?
When I'm CL, I send good faxes. When I'm MP, I observe Marine Law to the letter—and am reasonably good at nonlethal takedowns. I communicate frequently and rarely miss chatter. I'm a good combat and shipside engineer, a fast chemist, medic, and surgeon, and a competent CAS and transport pilot. I'm effective in overwatch roles and fairly regularly get medals for it. I stick to my character, and I frequently ahelp things I don't know. The negatives for whitelisting me are that I don't know requisitions well and that I will cryo mid-game occasionally. I'm never a shitter and I've never dropped SSD on anything but an internet outage.
Have you been banned from CM in the last month for any reason?
No. My last two warnings IIRC are using a universal recorder to translate xeno speech and returning fire on a griefer.
Are you currently banned from any other servers and if so, why?
No. My last warning IIRC is on Paradise for being a bit of a greytider.
Do you understand that any player - donor or otherwise - can have their whitelist status revoked should they break our rules or the Synthetic Programming Guideline?
Yes. I wouldn't play CM if it were any other way.
