Jorrix enters the Miner's Respite, fresh of the space port. He did his research prior to coming here, so is very aware they offer lodging. The turian is in his gray heavy armor with green trims and a Phaeston rifle is on his right side. With a purposeful stride, the turian makes his way over to the bar without really looking the place over, and slumps down on one of the bar seats.
#Miner'sRespite – July 15, 2013
Galatea enters the Respite a while later, barely looking left and right as she makes her way to the bar in a straight line, once again standing patiently to wait for the bartender to notice her.
Galatea orders a glass of water once she is noticed and continues to stand stock still as she waits for the barman to fill one.
Jorrix notices the humam woman arriving at the bar, but shows no outward reaction to it. He looks at the menu, but not for long. "Anything strong that won't kill me," he says, getting right to the point, "And a room. Ten days."
Galatea looks around the room, noting the tables being rather full at this hour, and surveys the remaining seats as though making a tactical assessment. Eventually, she settles carefully on a barstool, leaving one empty stool between herself and the turian.
Jorrix glances at the human sitting down near him with narrowed eyes, regarding her with suspicion for a moment. Then, without a word, he returns his gaze to look as the bartender servers his order.
Jorrix glances at her again. "Where you sit is none of my concern, human," he replies; with the slightest hint of distaste in the last word.
Jorrix shakes his head to himself as he retracts his gaze forward and reaches out to the glass as the bartender finally delivers it to him. He brings the glass up to his face and takes a very small tentative sip of it. He picks up a credit chit from one of the armor's compartments and throw it onto the counter.
Galatea keeps on sitting perfectly still, occasionally sipping her water, until she suddenly, without warning, turns back to the turian.
Jorrix flares his mandibles in mild surprise, glancing sidelong at the seemingly strange woman. "Alright," the turian sighs, assuming the human wants (to know) something. "Just get to the point."
Jorrix sighs, bringing his glass up to his 'lips'. "No, you haven't," he replies. "You asked to talk, and now we're talking." He takes a small sip of it, testing if the barman got the chirality right. "Was there anything you wanted?"
Jorrix takes a long swig off the glass. "If you could talk like a normal person, yes," he says. "Your choice of words, I mean."
Jorrix lowers his mandibles again, looking at the human with a tilted head. "You're learning to talk?" he asked in disbelief.
I can speak. However, I am learning to converse in a way that appears natural and puts people at their ease.
Jorrix | "That doesn't make sense," Jorrix responds with a turian frown, taking a long sip of his glass. "It sounds like you're reading aloud, not talking."
Jorrix shakes his head and drains the glass, not showing any outward reaction to its burning sensation. "Another," he simply calls out to the bartender as he places the empty glass on the counter. He returns to look at the human woman, regarding her with suspicion. "What are you?" he bluntly asks. "With this talk of algorithms and scripting, I'm not sure if I can believe my eyes."
Jorrix considers the answer for a moment. "That makes things clearer, I suppose," he says before he glances towards the bartender. "Does it replace whatever your brain used for speaking, then?"
Jorrix nods, his mandibles parting in a turian equivalent of a smile as the final piece to understand was provided. He reaches for the glass as it's provided to him, considering this further, the 'smile' fading. "You have a VI plugged to your brain?" he asks, his tone serious.
Jorrix | "Unbelievable," Jorrix begins. "I think it's crazy how you let a VI control a part of your brain in that way." The turian really don't know much about this, but had his opinion based on what he knew. He picks up the glass and takes a long swig of it.
I am putting my unique resources to good use, evidence suggests that is not such an unusual concept.
Jorrix | "Vis can malfunction," Jorrix says with a turian frown. "The last place I'd have a piece of technology like that wired to is the brain." He takes another swig of his drink.
My implants' programming cannot cause brain damage, if that is what you mean. All brain implants come with a built-in backfiring failsafe.
Jorrix shakes his head. "Well, I don't really know a damned thing about VI programming," he says. "So if you trust that thing to control your brain, it really shouldn't be any of my business."
Control is not an appropriate analogy, but I will not delve further into the subject if you do not wish.
Jorrix | "There's one thing I fail to understand," Jorrix begins as he brings the glass up to his 'lips'. "Why field-test a VI here?"
Interaction only requires the presence of people to converse with, why travel long distances for it?
Jorrix | "Not quite what I meant," Jorrix responds, sipping the glass again. "What purpose does this field-testing serve?"
As you can see, my interaction protocols are currently incomplete and somewhat flawed. I am adjusting them through trial and error.
Jorrix | "Can't say I see the point," Jorrix says with a turian equaling of a frown. "For a VI's purpose, there's nothing wrong with the way you speak."
Ah, but Cord-Hislop works on the cutting edge of VI technology, and that includes more natural-feeling VI interfaces to provide warm and comfortable interaction.
Jorrix | "A VI is a utility," Jorrix says, "not someone to make small talk with." He drinks most of the content left in his glass and places it on the counter, talons still wrapped around it.
VIs fill a wide range of roles in all aspects of our lives, and their diversity should reflect that.
Jorrix picks up her glass and downs the rest of it. "They do," he says. "What sort of role will the VI you're testing fill?" He places the empty glass on the counter, but doesn't order another.
We shall see. The advanced interaction protocols have a wide field of applications. Perhaps they will become standard for an entire new generation of VIs.
Jorrix stands up from his seat. "That we shall," he says. "Not that I see anything wrong with the current Vis." He slides another credit chit towards the bartender to pay for his second drink. "I think I'll get going."
Jorrix nods to the human. "No problem," he simply responds before turning towards and making his way over to the staircase up; leaving his first floor to find the room he rented.