<span style="color: #b30000">"Sorry about that"</span>Cal said<span style="color: #b30000">"I make it a habit to not make noise."</span><br/><br/>It was half true at least. he tried to make as little noise as possible when he moved and it had become habit. On the other hand he had deliberately not moved in order to spend as long as he could getting a view of Alicia's uplifted rear. Still, he dutifully handed her the pills before stepping over to look at the machines she had been working on, wondering if the investigations and repairs she had made would make the tangle of tubes, valves, and wires make any more sense.<br/><br/>Alas not, he was just as confused as he had been before.<br/><br/>He glanced around at the machines as Alicia spoke as if waiting for them to whir to life.<span style="color: #b30000">"I hope your little lightbulb friend has good defenses" he said. "No idea what killed the last one, and I can't exactly check for traps in programming, not my area."</span><br/><br/>The alert came shortly after, and while Cal couldn't tell binary from alphabet soup the urgency with which it came up put him on edge nonetheless. This was the kind of thing that frustrated him. Put him up against the nastiest six-armed, armor-skinned, tooth-filled monster in the galaxy and he'd take his odds. But he can't do anything when it comes to the dangers that lurk in code and machines.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>