Brighte nods her head, and climbs down, the smell getting worse the farther she went. It seemed almost unbearable by the time she got off the ladder, but kept her cool about it waiting for the rest of the group.

At first Ammpe was greatly displeased by the fact that Slipp had managed to find the place they were looking for before anyone else. Then something occurred to her and took a very quick moment to make a note of it before she forgot. The Computer was going to love her for this, she just knew it.

Her good fortune only seemed to increase as she was placed at the back of the group. She could see all of their dirty little treasonous actions from here... assuming she could see anything at all. Between the smell which left her eyes watering and the dark she would be lucky if she could see anything. She looked nervously at the liquid. She didn't really like liquid as liquid didn't really like sparks usually.

Once a marching order is assigned, the team moves forward into the low tunnel. Sadly, Slipp's match burns out, as there is no useful fuel to keep the flame lit.

As you press on, you notice several things:

1. The celing slowly gets lower and lower.
2. The water level slowly gets deeper and deeper while the water grows thicker.
3. The stench gets worse and worse.

Eventually, you find yourselves hunched over, basically on hands and knees, under a three foot high celing while keeping your heads above a foot and a half of truly foul liquid. You try to ignore the solids that are floating in the liquid, and the thick sludge at the bottom of the corridor here in SWR Sector.

Finally, you reach the end of the corridor, and as fate would have it, there actually is a small amount of red light given off by an emergency light. As you pause, a monitor slowly rises out of the muck with a sickening "SLUCK" sound. Then, Friend Computer's voice - or rather, a horribly tinny, distorted version of it - speaks from the sludge-covered monitor at a volume loud enough to almost cause physical pain.

Helloelloello, friendendend citizenzenzenzen! Youyouyou haveaveave aaaa newewew signmentmentment. Wonwonwon thatatat makeakeake youyouyou appyappyappy?

Fromomom thisisis riefinginging, yououyou willillill bebebe metetet bybyby aaaa jackobotobobot. Thisisis jackobotobotbot willilil cortortort youyouyou tototo pickickick upupup tainainain pliesiesies, andandand thenenen tototo R.N.D.D.D. tototo teerteerteer fororor mentalentalental equipmentmentment stinginging. Wontontont thatatat bebebe funfunfun?

Youyouyou willilil thenenen bebebe cortedortedorted tototo meetmeetmeet andandand actactact asasas dyguardsardsards andandadn scortsortsorts tototo Citizenzenzen Wowowow-Geeee-WHZeezeezee. Memberemberember, he'seses Greeneeneen aranceanceance, sososo payayay ntiontiontion tototo himimim.

Youyouyou areareare tototo cretlylyly scortortort himimim tototo theeeee atoryoryory cilityityity ininin Sectororor DEDeedee. Nonono oneoneone isisis tototo knowowow ofofof thisisis ssionsionsion. Citizenzenzen Wowowow-Geeee-WHZeezee isisis nototot tototo bebebe lowedowedowed tototo bebebe cuteduteduted, hurthurthurt ororor letetet outoutout ofofof yourourour sightightgiht. Citizenzenzen Wowowow-Geeee-WHZeezeezee doesoesoes NOTotot haveavav ananan unusualualual earanceanceanceance. Isisis thatatat clearearear?

Thankanank youyouyou, citizenszenszens. Thisisis sionionion willilil bebebe veryeryery safeafeafe andandand lotsotsots ofofof fununun fororor allallall ofofof youyouyou.

Areareare thereereere anyanyany tionsionsions?

Artie winced at the loudness, but even with the high echo, he found that the speaker played sounds in a relatively consistent pattern. A computer could translate it. Or, someone thinking like a computer.

"Understood, I have no questions." Artie murmurred, rubbing at his back while still crouched in the uncomfortable position, "Standing by for the bot's arrival, unless anyone else has questions."

All in all, it seemed straightforward enough. He just hoped that he wouldn't forget his manners and the precautions to take around a Green. And he also seriously hoped that this... stuff... would wash out of the uniform. Would they have time to change uniforms? Probably not, they probably would have to make time. Unless there were ones that were provided in addition to the other supplies. Oh well, one thing at a time. No point pondering futurevariables when time t of present was not greater than or equal to the approximate t of when the futurevariables could be determined.

Ideally, he'd be at the speakers to re-adjust them, but he was on the big side, and had to question how well he could get past the others to get to the front to do so. Not to mention his knack for stumbling. In this scenario, a wrong stumble could result in... well, not that good of an idea. Still, if anyone asked, and they were willing to try, he'd have no objections. As it was, he thought he understood the majority of the message.

Ammpe shuddered as they crawled further and further into the sludge, going over and over in her head the proverbs of the Computer to keep herself calm. This was not okay. This whole situation was as far from ideal as possible. She tried to stop breathing so the smell couldn't fill her nose anymore but quickly this proved to be an impractical and inefficient method of keeping the stench at bay. Had her hands not been coated with the muck she could have pulled something over her face... but as it stood she would just have to put up with it. Then her mind of course changed to who in the party could be blamed for this.

When the noise of the speakers crashed into her eardrums she had to force herself not to cry out. Forgetting about the muck she pressed her hands to her ears momentarily but yanked them down when she realized she would miss what the computer had to say. After a few moments of puzzling out the mission what with the echoes and her stench fuzzy head she smiled brightly.

"No questions, Computer. Thank you so much for another fun mission." It wasn't right that the monitor was covered in that gunk. The Computer deserved better. If she hadn't been at the back of the group she would have wiped her beloved Friend Computer off as well as possible.

Steam dredged through the muck without complaint. It was a test to ensure the team had a composure capable of fighting off the Computer's enemies, the foolish traitors, the dirty communists, and the vile mutants; especially the vile mutants. If the troubleshooters couldn't handle themselves in the traitors natural environment, squalor and filth, then how could they expect the Computer to trust them? Indeed, this mission was an ingenious test of dedication before the actions against the enemies could even begin!

However, he found it interesting that the Hygiene Officer was not voicing plans for the removal of the muck, or insisting upon immediate cleanliness operations upon departure from this sector. Indeed, aside for the general alert that he had found the sector, Slipp had become reserved, much unlike his original personality. Similarly Artie's personality had shifted since being 'reminded' of his duties by Friend Computer. Both would warrant future watching.

Eventually, upon reaching the end of the corridor, a monitor arose from the muck and relayed a message from Friend Computer, although it seemed to either echo or skip in some horrid fashion. Steam tried to listen intently, but found it made his head spin worse than listening to Blowz roughly when Friend Computer asked them if something would be 'funfunfun'.

There was something about a robot, 'leading' them to equipment, and RND. That should mean they would receive their load out soon. There was something about another citizen, and to 'scort' him to ...something, a facility maybe?.... in Sector DDD, or perhaps it was Sector D. The echo was painful, but he started to sort it out in his mind.

"Understood, I have no questions." Artie murmurred, rubbing at his back while still crouched in the uncomfortable position, "Standing by for the bot's arrival, unless anyone else has questions."
It seemed Artie was prepared to proceed, but Steam also noticed he encouraged the squad to ask questions, despite having none of his own. Steam was certain that the first portion regarded equipment, and that it was straight forward. Provided Artie did indeed understand Friend Computer's further instructions, the implications that any would need to ask questions indicated he either did not understand everything, or he in fact did and was setting up a clever ploy. To question the logic and reasoning of Friend Computer was treason. To question regarding directions was to be inefficient in understanding the directions, and that could also lead to treason.

Understanding Artie's potential motives, Steam would not fall for this ploy; he had a rudimentary idea of the mission anyway. "Acknowledged Friend Computer. Ready to proceed."

All Brighte did was say,"Yes, we have no questions." She did have questions, but it only regarded what Friend Computer said...and...well, why ask about that? All she cared was a new objective, and a new chance to make the other clones remember her more than just a snob in some ways... Still, she also wanted to forget about dying once, and she also wanted to hurry out of there. Still, she waited, almost feeling like passing out, she stayed in case someone was to ask questions.
No one asked yet.

Since no one has anything useful to ask Friend Computer, the moitor eventually goes dark and recedes beneath the surface of the much with a gurgle. Once more, you are alone in SWR sector.

The party slowly retraces their steps - only getting lost three times - before finding the door with the defense turret on the far side.

The door is open, and standing there is a jackobot standing just short of five feet tall. A keen eye might discern that this bot is an older model, and perhaps a bit neglected or worn, though jackobots do tend to function for a very long time.

"BEE-DEE-BEE-DEE-BEEP," it intones through a dented speaker. "Greetings, Team MAO-17859 Dot R-2. I am Jackie the Jackobot. Please allow me to escort your superior intelligences to the PLC distribution center."

You might be wrong, but the jackobot appears to speak in a slightly sarcastic tone.

Artie tilted his head just slightly as he heard the robot speak. There was something just a bit... off... about it. Or maybe he was just hearing things.

"Good to meet you, Jackie." Artie replied as though nothing were wrong, "So, which way are we going?"

Something kept bugging Artie, perhaps a gut feeling. But that was irrational, and not logically equivalent to proof. It was just too soon to tell. One thing was clear though. If the opportunity presented itself, Artie would offer to give the robot some maintenance. Jackie sure looked like he could use some. How old was he anyway? That model...

Setting his mind to run in parallel (otherwise known as multitasking), Artie quickly skimmed over the robot models he was familiar with, wondering if he had come across the same model as Jackie before. Or, however rare as that may be, if he had met Jackie before. Both pieces of knowledge would be invaluable in running maintenance.

Jackie leads the team down an empty corridor which ends in a blank door with a terminal to one side.

"BEE-DEE-BEE-DEE-BEEP," Jackie states, "the mission transportation is located in the garage through this door."

Brighte reaches for the door handle - and receives a nasty electrical jolt that knocks her to the ground for her troubles.

This causes Jackie to react. "BEE-DEE-BEE-DEE-BEEP," it speaks, "I apologize for the omission, superior troubleshooters. This door will only open to an individual that presents the mission number."

Seing as how Brighte is temporarily stunned, door opening now falls to the the next clone in line - Steam. The equipment control officer swallows nervously, then recites the team's designation (MAO-17859 Dot R-2) and reaches for the door handle.

Like Brighte before him, Steam receives a nasty electrical shock that knocks him to the ground. The faint smell of ozone and burned flesh lingers in the air.

"BEE-DEE-BEE-DEE-BEEP," Jackie states solemnly. "Clearly, my communication circuits have failed you, oh wise ones. MAO-17859 Dot R-2 is your team number. You must present your mission number. Please, allow me to deactivate the door."

The aging jackobot then interfaces with the terminal momentarily. After a moment, it speaks again. "BEE-DEE-BEE-DEE-BEEP, you may now proceed safely. I hope that no lasting harm has come to any of this esteemed team."

The door retracts to reveal a parking garage. Jackie takes the lead, and directs the team to a strange craft.

The craft would appear to have once been a fairly typical transbot - before someone sliced off the roof and removed all of the seats. Instead of the factory-issue wheels, four huge, ungainly, (and unguarded) fans are attached (one per corner). The fans point at the ground, and apparently grant the ability for the vehicle to hover.

As you approach, the vehicle speaks ina warm, friendly, feminine voice. "BING! Welcome, troubleshooters. I am the new, perfected Alpha-19.87b Friendliness Hoverbot. Please watch your step while boarding."

The door swings open, and the hoverbot sweetly speaks again. "BING! Welcome aboard. All mutants are traitors! If you are a traitor, please inform me so that we can reroute to the nearest confession booth."

"BING!" it continues. "Please designate a pilot for our journey."

Artie blinked a bit at the door. Not at the commotion and shocks, that was to be expected if the method of access wasn't correct. It was at Jackie. The robot was showing curious symptoms and signs. All the more reason for him to offer to look at it later.

"Steam, interfacing is your department." Artie nodded towards the officer, "Unless you still have temporary damage which would significantly hinder you. In which case, you can volunteer another person to pilot."

A few things didn't sit right with Artie, as he cast another look at the ship, and that is why he made sure he wasn't at the wheel of this thing, so to speak.

Steam stared at his singed hand as the sound of the Jackobot interfacing with the controls echoed down the corridor.

He had not seen the event coming, but had the feeling he should have. Somewhere between leaving the muck infested SWR sector and arriving at this door he had allowed himself to grow absent-minded; Friend Computer was obviously not impressed with this and decided he needed to 'wake up' from his walking daydream.

Attempting to close his hand caused a significant jolt of pain to run up his arm, but it was nothing he could not handle. Steam would endure any hardship and any punishment in the name of Friend Computer, and in the protection of every citizen.

The door slid open to reveal a parking garage, and the small Jackobot lead them to their destination. A modified transbot rigged to allow hovering (via factory fans) stood before them. Examining the fans from this distance, Steam thought they could use adjustment, as they were not originally ment for this purpose. But then, perhaps Friend Computer was allowing them to test a new prototype!

As they approached the transbot introduced itself, allowed them to board, and requested a pilot be identified. Without hesitation, Artie turned to Steam and told him to get to work, after all he was the acting equipment officer.

Moving towards the Hoverbot's controls, Steam was filled with a mixture of gleeful excitment, and anxious nerves.

"Greetings Alpha-19.87b Friendliness Hoverbot, I am Steam-R-LLR. I will be the acting pilot for this journey." Turning to his companions Steam noticed there were not any seats, but Steam was sure they would think of something. "Prepare to move out."

Friend Computer was generous in his honors this day; Steam had never gotten to fly a Hoverbot before....

Ammpe watched Steam take the zap with a hint of jealousy. As the smell of electricity in the air hit her she made a little happy sound then snapped her attention back to the task at hand.

The transport they were given looked fun. She couldn't wait to see what fun and exciting things Friend Computer had for them to do. She looked adoringly at the bots and then at her teammates, her face not changing though she was not half as impressed. These clones were hardly worthy of serving her beloved computer. She was just sure they were all traitors... she just had to prove it.

She stepped towards the transport, still a bit giddy from the smell of the zap earlier. "Friend Computer always gives us the perfect tools to complete our missions." Her voice oozed with love for the Computer.

Slipp stood in the back of the hoverbot, looking in awe at the generosity of Friend Computer. Sure something seemed wrong with the Jackobot, but having access to a hoverbot was much more exciting. Searching his pockets, Slipp found one of his supplements and ate it with glee.

"Surely Friend Computer wouldn't mind that I'm trying to stay in perfect condition. If only I could fix that annoyance of a tic. If I could, I could prove I'm the only loyal one here, and then I could turn the others in as traitors!"

Slipp laughed to himself quitely as he took another supplement from his pocket and popped it in his mouth. Staring off into the distance he wondered how fun the mission will be protecting someone with Green clearance.

Brighte strolled into the ship. 'Leave the piloting to the other guys' he thought.'I am too good for it.' Brighte was disgusted with the filth on his uniform. He knew, however, that the friend computer chose them for a reason. This was definately an important assignment. Although he knew the friend computer was always right, Brighte still watched the robot. Something was up with it. Brighte decided that when the oppurtunity presented itself, he would eliminate it. That thought pleased Brighte enough for him to relax. He leaned on the inside wall of the ship, waiting for it to take off.