12.19.3013: Intellect And Practicality
Summary: Brigham, Adelstein, and Victor discuss technology, hostiles, and procurement.
Date: 26 October, 3013
Related: None
Brigham Adelstein Victor 


The Quad, Academ, Landing
This is just one of the many quads scattered throughout the Academ — even if it is one of the largest. It is truly nothing more than a stretched of neatly manicured lawn that is divided up with concrete pathways that strategically lead toward little clusters of stone benches. At the center of the quad is a magificent, hectagonal basin with a tall enough rim to allow people to sit and relax before the water. This quad lays before the grand tower of the Imperius Library — a tall, looming spire with a stained-glass crown. There are various buildings also attached to this quad that host a variety of scholarly schools and classrooms.
19 December, 3013

Brigham is sitting on great stone steps leading up to one of the large stone buildings of education that make up the Academ. It's an older building, and not in a highly trafficed area, with large open spaces and walk ways. In fact, if Brigham's clothing didn't stand out so much, he'd blend in perfectly here to the point of disappearing. As it is, even being as recognizable as he is, it takes a moment to spot him on the steps, his elbows propped on his bent knees, stuffing the first bite of an enormous sub sandwhich into his mouth with obvious relish.

Adelstein strides into the Quad, clasping his hands behind his back as he casually makes his way towards Brigham. Once within earshot, he gestures to the young man and calls out, "Lord Brigham, good day. My assistants informed me of your request…and I owed you this favor." He comes to stand at the bottom of the steps. "So what do you have for me?"

Victor pushes his way out of the building, scowling over his shoulder where a rather dowdy-looking professor is scowling at him. "I'm goin', I'm goin'." The words are a low rumble from deep in his chest. The reason that he's leaving the building becomes obvious as he raises a cigar to his mouth, bringing up a butane lighter and drawing it to life. Some people yearn for sandwiches, some — apparently — for cancer-sticks.

Brigham nods his head Adel's direction, his cheeks filled chipmunk style with sandwhich. He waves a hand activating his HUD and then makes a finger 'thumping' gesture like he was flicking a bit of dust from the air and Adel's HUD beeps as a file is recieved, "Whuf eb bahb." Brigham says unintelligably.

Adelstein pulls out an thin electronic pad and strikes a single button on it, emitting green-blue holoimage of his HUD. He gestures a bit lazily to find the file just sent. He merely glances up at Brigham and finding himself in the role of the adult here, he says, "Chew and swallow, then speak." He smirks at the boy behind his beard and then looks back at the HUD.

Victor draws on his cigar, blowing smoke upwards and away from the other pair on the steps. His dark eyes study the pair, and then he grunts, shifting his cigar to his left hand as he steps over, "A Valta, yeah?" He gestures idly toward his chest, announcing, "Vic Khournas." As if the cigar, size, and casual attire didn't suggest a Khourni of some sort. "I'm sure we've met, but…" His shoulders shrug a little helplessly as he looks from the Valta to the sandwich eater.

Brigham makes a face at Adel that is apparenlty him trying to stick his tongue out, but it's a lost cause. To much food. He's forced to do as he's told, chew, then swallow, then stick his tongue out. Brigham is small. Tiny really. Just barely over five feet tall and lithe in build, his already childlike face gives an even greater impression of youth. But the hat… it's the hat that tips people off as to who he is. Brigham Peake is infamous at the Academ. He's to smart for them to expell but he's responcible for more property damage to the Academ then any other 3 sources in it's long history combined. He's an inmitigated prodigy… who's experiments tend to explode. Or burn. Or spew poison gas. Or you know… try to kill him like that large carnivorous plant he cross bred that one time. Don't mention Murray, Brig's still touchy about them burning it. "Brigham Peake." he says, also not using titles or froo froo when he chats with the other two men. He holds out a hand to Vic to shake, ignoring the mustard and mayo smeared across two of the fingers as if he didn't notice. Adel's HUD is currently filling up with technical specs of an extremely advanced design. Specs that are confusing and complicated and… seem to have no build in resistors or saftey features.

Adelstein steps towards Vic and bows his head curtly. "I am Torvald's son: Adelstein Valta….though whenever I am here at the Academ, just call me Dr. Valta…none of that lord-stuff 'round here." He waves a had dismissively at the notion. "And yes, Lord Victor I take it? I always endeavor to learn the faces and names of my paramount house." Adelstein, turns to Brigham at this point and seems ready to say something but then he looks at the holo-images. His head constantly shifts back and forth as he endeavors to make sense of the images and designs, "Is this what I think it is?"

Victor shakes the be-condimented hand without hesitation, then looks down, shrugging and sucking the mayo and mustard off his fingers. "Lord Brigham." He nods to Adelstein, "Sir Vic, Doc. Or Cueball." His newly-cleaned-off hand scrubs back over his shorn scalp to demonstrate where the byname came from. The question from the Valta causes Victor to lean forward and study the holo-image, "That looks like a Hostie generator."

Brigham takes another bite of the sandwhich, smaller this time, and shrugs, "That depends entirely on whether or not you think it's the start of my plans for a designed neural/electrical interface of surpassing complexity and brilliance. Because if so, then yes. If you think it's a house cat chasing a pigeon, then no. And you should see a doctor about your eyes and possibly halucinations brought on by early onset dimentia." he offers helpfull, stuffing another bite into his mouth, "Naw. The power source is of my own design entirely, don't trust Hostile power sources, to integrated." he reaches up to tap his breast bone as if pointing out that no one wants a bunch of batteries and power packs cramed into their chest cavity. Bite. Munch munch munch.

Adelstein seems to easily filter out the non-essential banter but remains silent as he eyes the design. Finally he says, "Your theory is sound, but an poor use of resources. Neural interfacing have been perfected in the form of the Evoked Potential Interface. There is a point 3 variance in its accuracy but most experts would say such a variance is within limits." He looks up at Brigham, "I pray this is merely a prototype."
page adelstein=…actually, Havenites don't have working neural interfaces (sorry to mention it).
You paged Adelstein with '…actually, Havenites don't have working neural interfaces (sorry to mention it).'

Victor blinks flatly at Brigham's self-promotion, although the point about Hostile power sources causes him to shrug helplessly, drawing on his cigar again and blowing smoke out to one side, "Even the other Hosties think the Scouts are crazy sons-of-bitches. But I haven't seen one of them break or blow up yet." And his teeth flash white in the midst of a toothy grin, "And I've stress-tested 'em pretty damn well."

Brigham grins at Adel, "The Evoked dosen't possess the speed of translation I require, nor is it's variance within my acceptalbe threshhold." he nods at the plans in Adel's hands, "You're not qualified for the medical part of the interfacing where as I am, however other matters have recently come up that require my skills." he makes an unhappy sad face at this, "And I havn't yet perfected my plans to clone myself so that I can work on multiple projects at once so… I'm out sourceing some of my ideas. That," he points at the blue prints in Adel's hands, "is half reverse engineered H-Tech, and half my own design. I want you to improve upon it without any of the source material to distract you or lead you astray. I've followed your work, you're really good and I think you'll see things in ways I havn't. I'm to tempted, repeatedly, to use more and more H-Tech in my design, but that seems like it could become a security risk on a completed project. So." he takes another bite and talks around the better part of half a spinach leaf that's sticking out of the side of his mouth, "Plus you know, I thought you might get a kick out of it." he stands, which only emphasizes his meager stature, and looks as the plans. "Zoom out." he says, "You're looking to close, see the whole thing." he grins at Victor, fidgeting where he stands as if REALLY wanting to show off his ideas and plans. He's nearly hopping foot to foot.

Adelstein looks at Victor and asks, "What percentage of their bodies are truely cybernetic…some people tell me 90 some say 60? The energy required to run a cybernetic machine and interface with an organic entity would be vast compared to the energy that is required for you or me to run our own bodies." Adelstein gestures to Brigham's sandwich when he mentions energy. He then rolls his eyes when Brigham jokes about cloning himself. Though he straightens his back at the mention of the Hostile Technology. He quickly zooms out as told on his interface.

Victor chortles at the term, rumbling, "H-Tech. I like it." Tucking his cigar into the corner of his mouth, he pulls out a little case, popping the top and offering additional cigars out to the other two men. Speaking around the stogie with a practiced ease, he adds, "I'm assumin' you're insulating any Hostie code you've got running on a closed system." Apparently, he's not just a meathead. Looking over to Adelstein, he shrugs slightly, "Depends on the Hostie. I've seen corpses with just an arm, and I've seen some that were more metal than anything else. Especially the Scouts."

Brigham was totally not joking about cloning himself. He's written papers on it in fact. "The percentage depends almost entirely on the model of Hostile you're talking about, varies model to model." he says, waiting for the image to zoom out… and zoom out… and zoom out somemore. In the end what they're looking at is a human body cut out, or at least a sort of human body shape. After checking a few more specs Adel can see it's a suit of powered armor. Sort of. "Anyone ever fought the heavy H-Soldiers? Cause from what I understand, they're faster then our own people in heavy powered armor. This is why." he points at the projected HUD holo, "Neural interfacing technology means thier thoughts are turned into instant motion within the armor. Our own models on the other hand respond to preasure, so first you think 'move my arm', that impulse travels to your limbs. Muscles contract, your arm starts to move. That hits preassure sensors in the armor, which transmit the command to lift your arm, servos enact and the arm lifts. 0.62 second lapse between thought and action. It's like our Knights are fighting in syrup." he points at the armor, "I'm trying to adapt our powered armor with speed of thought movement transition. Over half a second is way to long in a fight." he shrugs at Vic, "I'm not using H-Code at all. No one's cracked the code, we have no idea what it's saying. I'm a theoretical mathematician who can run the quantum calculations that opperate the Ways and I havn't cracked H-Code yet. Still working on that actually. So better safe then sorry, no H-Code in my Superarmor, just a few of their hardware designs. I'm writing the code for it from scratch when I have time. Which," he nudges Adel, "is why I called you. Think you might want your name stamped on helping me crack the interface? It'll look really pretty right under mine on the paper's authorship heading."

Adelstein continues to review the documentation. "I am not so certain. Our own interfaces would still be extremely sluggish. The human brain is unique, our thoughts can shift and be afflicted by emotional alterations to our metabolic state. A slight change in brain waves can throw the most practiced knight off balance. Here look…you have nothing here on this impulse inducer…a single neuron misfiring would throw the system into a loop and a soldier would start hacking and not be able to stop…there is too much risk of a catastrophic failure or override from enemy interference." He runs his hand through his hair. "I know your work and I know you are proud on it, but I think you need to be a bit more realistic…something to enchance focus, reaction timing…"

Victor smirks at Brigham's question, "A couple of 'em. Yeah, they're quick and strong. They're also fuckin' huge. Like, as big as The Wall." His eyebrows arch slowly at the mention of the mention of the theoretical mathematics, but he doesn't rise to that boast, instead staying quiet as Adelstein speaks. Techspeak rolls over him, and he chuckles slowly, "You know that all our knights are used to that delay, right? This ever gets finished," he gestures with the smouldering cigar toward Adelstein as he puts away the offered and ignored cigar case, "and those problems get fixed, all the soldiers and knights are gonna have to relearn their instinctive reactions."

Brigham nods his head at everything they say as a pair, "I don't do realistic." he says flatly, "I do the impossible. Realistic is for lesser minds without imagination. If you don't feel you're up to the task…" he brings up his own HUD, "I'll just take back my plans and find another more willing to push the limits." he purses his lips, "That didn't sound so rude in my head. Look, here's the basic truth about the Hostiles. They're going to win. They are faster, stronger, and possess tech far beyond out own. In the history of evolution and sentient beings any civilization under attack by another better equiped with healthier (for lack of a better descriptor of their physical superiority) soldiers has never lived through the conquest. They /always/ fall." his tiny angular jaw sets, "Well, not if I can help it. Our people are already more skilled then theirs, imagine if they were also just as fast? Retrain them if it's an issue, teach them mental focusing exercises, I don't care. We adapt as a species or we are exterminated, it's that simple. If you see problems in the design, then help me fix them, don't tell me it won't work. /Never/ tell me I can't do something. It won't end well for you." he looks fierce and very very GRRRR!! RARR!! at the moment. In fact, there's a chance someone may get hit with half a sammich.

"Lord Brigham, I respect your approach, but we need to work on your tact. It is not enough to be brilliant in our world. You also have to be able to work with people in it. But enough of that. You make a good point and you have sold me on it. However, I will go ahead and recommend we use a combination of wave translations from periphiral nerve endings, the spinal cord, and even small scale physical movement to project the actions that the suit will carry out. Essentially those three variables will be compared to a indexed matrix of inputs and once there is a match…boom…thats it…the suit acts. Though I forsee that some overides will have to built in…." Adelstein throws his hands up for and says, "Ok ok, I should not get carried away…Brigham, if you want me to work with you then need to respect my process. I will create something that is useful and can go into operation immediately…I do the development for VPEC everyday and whatever we create one week have to be ready to go out on the rigs the next. That being said…I create safe and functional whenever I am building. As I understand you…your excitement to reach the end of a project leads you to skip the nonessentials. Well, you can do that…but we must agree now that we create something the King and the Citadel will accept…not something that blows up the first batch of trainees to wear it."

Victor shakes his head at Brigham, "Except we kicked their ass out of the Inner System last time. And that was without hard light shields. They'll press us, we'll lose a lot of people, but there's no fuckin' chance the Hosties win this, Lord Brigham. They might be faster and stronger than some people here, but not all of us." He draws on the cigar again, blowing a plume of smoke up and away and letting Adelstein speak. The details, of course, are significantly over his shaven head.

Brigham makes a face, "Tact wastes time." he is, for all the use the title 'Lord' is, not very good at being noble. He is however excellent at being a scientist. He eyes Adel for a moment, "I don't care if the King or the Citadel like it, I'm worried about it working on soldiers. It's their approval I'm looking for." He really /is/ tactless. Like whoa. "The big hurtles are the ones that will be the hardest to hop, once we have the techno-stuff down, I'll start working it from the medical side. Like I said, I did my research on you, you're good with hardware, the fleshware side of this isn't really your wheelhouse. Once we get this half done, we start work on the other half, then we meet in the middle and we can find our bugs and fix them as they come up until our prototype can be put into production. Look, I don't think this will be easy, or solved in a week, this could take months, years, who knows. But we have to start somewhere right?" he pokes his design concepts, "There it is." he then turns on Victor, "I believe your confidence is misplaced in the longterm if not the short. We will have to agree to disagree."

Adelstein rolls his eyes, "If the Citadel or King don't like it then soldiers don't get to use it. So first…you need to recognize that you are building something for our soldiers that will also need to be approved by the Citadel. Next, you will want to begin perform neurogenic testing. We will need to calibrate our the detection seqenucers to be able to read the faintest signals. Once you determine that, I can outline a distribution grid and determine the molecular structure of the intersystem nanofibers. Their are certain molecular patterns that conduct neural signals better than others and to optmize performance we will want the most conductive thing we can find…that will require some experimentation on my part." He runs his hands through his hair. "I would like to relocate…at least my end of the project back to my own laboratory in Volem Dir were I have an entire staff and vast numbers of resources to support this endeavor."

Victor points two fingers at Adelstein at his point about the procurement process. And then his eyes start to cross, and he takes a puff of his cigar to clear his head, "Sage on a stick. Do I even want to know what all that science-chatter was?" He chuckles softly, then shrugs his shoulders at Brigham's words, "Think whatever the hell you want, just as long as you don't pull out that defeatist bullshit in front of soldiers. Morale's not something you fuck around with."

Brigham listens to Adel for a moment and nods, "Agreed. I suggest you use pigs. Their brains are close enough for the first few runs through to get your baseline, up your way to chimps once you need some fine tuning. Do what you like, but try to keep the orange high-lighted secsions a bit under wraps. Those are where I pulled my inspiration from the Scout I got to cut up and work with. I will be procuring a Soldier next I think, as their links are more what we need then the scouts and could provide far more valuable source material. In fact, if you know where we could get a coupld of good condition intact Soldier Model H-Bodies that would be excellent." he then grins at Vic, "Oh I'm not defeatest. I think we'll win, I just don't think it'll be with what we have now. It's why we make new stuff. Better stuff. Stuffier stuff. If you know what I mean." he looks down at his hand, just remembering his sandwhich and then digs into it ravenously again, his cheeks once mroe chipmunking.

Adelstein turns and looks at Vic then back at Brigham. "Well…I would interested in the samples of the polymers taked from any synaptic relay nodes and interlink pathways. One of the mysteries that we need answers to is how to terminate all variance in freqeuncy dilation that occurs during prolong electrostatic exposure…ever signal charge basically throws it off of alignment."

Victor steps over to lean against one railing of the stairway, working on his cigar as he listens to the words that he just doesn't understand. He nods slightly at the last point that Brigham makes, although he responds instead to an earlier point, "Most Hosties don't come through a fight in very good condition. They take a lot of killing before it finally takes. There aren't many that come through a fight whole. Parts are a damn sight easier than the whole."

Brigham nods his head, "I can send you some of the sample I extracted." he says easily enough, agreeably… though it's said around a mouthful of sandwhich and his grin shows bits of lettuce stuck to his teeth. He's like a slightly over sized kid, and his energy levels are nuts. He hasn't stopped fidgetting since they saw him, he's always moving. He nods his head at Victor, "Tell me about it." he says sourly. "I'm hoping that there might could be some left over corpses from a space battle. If I'm lucky we can puncture one of their ships and then study the corpses after they freeze or sufforcate. Taht would be /perfect/." he blinks, "I need to know people in the Navy." he mutters.

Adelstein turns to Victor. "You may have the pull within the military to at the very least make the request. You can tell them the request originated from me since I am Khourni vassal I think Khourni commanders would more willing if they assumed the request came from one of their own." He rubs his beard in thought until he finally says, "The Citadel might also be hiding something…it would not hurt to ask them as well. We will go through whatever clearence process they desire."

Victor shrugs at Brigham, "Our armor's sealed for the short term. I haven't checked, but I'd bet homebrew to Peacock Piss," that would be a particularly weak Valen beer, "that theirs is too." Adelstein's request causes him to chuckle softly, "I got a cousin who's a Lieutenant. That's as far as my pull goes. Besides, I'm shit with paperwork." His flashes a bright grin, "That's where Dee kicks ass. But yeah, going through the Citadel'd be good. Make sure you get any requirements they have for new armor designs."

Brigham makes a face at that. He and the Citadel aren't on the greatest of terms. They're always so worried about what people think and how things look they let beuricrats make decisions about scient they don't understand. It drives him bonkers. Red Tape is the bane of his exsistence, that and people who think he's a menace. You blow up one (or more) labs and people start using words like 'dangerous'. No one's died yet! And eyebrows and hair grow back and skin graph tech is super easy these days! "I'll send you what I have, keep me in the loop please. I have a meeting with one of my math profs about quantum tunneling theorum of mine, see if he's found a flaw yet." he looks at Vic, "It was a pleasure to meet you. You seem like an interesting person, which I don't usually say to non-scientists. I think I have some inventions you might like. Come by Khar-Mordune sometime, I like to show off." he beams up at Vic happily and crams the last bite of sandwhich into his face.

Adelstein nods at both men and looks at Brigham. "I will take the data you have sent and begin to work on some basic models for us to begin toying with. But if this is all, I must head back to Volem Dir."

Victor chuckles at Brigham's words, "Everybody likes the Cueball, what can I say?" At least his smirk has a self-deprecating edge to it. "You put somethin' useful together… somethin' that won't kill me before I even get to see my first kid… I'll give it a whirl in real conditions." This time there's a bit of challenge to his toothy grin, "That's the problem with pie-in-the-sky scientists… no real-world testing." He nods to each man in turn, studies his cigar a moment, "Now, I get to go tell some dumbass academic why his theory on Hostie behavior's fuckin' stupid. If you'll excuse me." And with positive relish, he extinguishes the cigar in an ashtray on the outside of the building, then makes his way back inside.

Brigham nods to both the men, then he grins at Vic, "My gauss cannon works just fine! One time in three." he adds after a moment hessitation. Then he beams again, and turns to go, licking condiments from his fingers. It's only a few steps before he breaks into a job, one hand raised to press down atop his hat to keep it from flying off as he sprints away across the quad. For no apparent reason. Wait. Is that smoke coming out of the chem lab top floor?

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