Hidden Log 2: I am a Punching Bag
I can tell you that I've gotten really good at multitasking lately. By that I mean operating my human self along with the cat bot without either side realizing anything was occupying my attention. That was except Blair. She seemed to have the uncanny ability to tell when I was giving my robotic avatar my full attention. Honestly, if she had my schooling, I'd believe she'd be running ESRAI.
Tangent aside, Thunderclan has finally decided what to do with Blair, Snow, and I. Brackenfur gave his condolences that he could not mentor Snow despite having wanted to when Snow was just a kit. He had his own apprentice to deal with. Instead, it was the leader who decided to take on Snow, and by association me. Meanwhile, Blair decided to head back to the lab for now since Snow was safe and she was more accustomed to a pet's lifestyle.
I preemptively opened a can of tuna for her and left it on the counter. At the same time Bluestar guided Snow, or rather Snowpaw, and I out into the woods to their training clearing. Bluestar was not what I'd call a stable individual. Just a basic medical reading showed a severe hormone imbalance, likely caused by stress, as well as fluctuating activity in what is regarded as the decision making cortex of her brain. Her eyes regarded me with suspicion. Not like she could actually hurt me. Species pretender units have an outer form made of a lightweight steel. The joints themselves are covered with a woven mesh of this same steel, acting similar to chainmail. Above that is a durable canvas layer made from bioplastic, making and scratches or damage reseal near instantly. Then above that is the fur layer, synthesized from the fabricator via protein generation, the fur created from the fabricator is near indistinguishable from real fur and is easy to replace with any source of protein, of which Sparky currently carried enough to replace his pelt twice. With the built in fabricator, near every part was replaceable. Soo, she really didn't threaten me.
Bluestar turned to face us, a serious look on her face. "Now I want to assess your battle skills." She commanded.
"I cannot." I answered, drawing a sour look upon her face.
"Are you refusing me?" She demanded with her fur beginning to bristle up.
"Forgive me. I appear to have misspoken. It is not that I am unable to fight. It is that I do not know how much to hold back. I am designed to be able to crush rock and survive being hit by a truck with no major damage. If I were to fight full out, I may very well break bones or kill my opponent. Though, I do have an idea. If you were able to strike me, I can measure how hard I was hit and restrict myself to match it. You may strike me however you like. I should be able to take whatever you can dish out, and even if you do damage me, I have all the capabilities to repair myself." I answered.
"As hard as I like?" Bluestar questioned, seemingly more intrigued than before.
"Yes. As hard as you like and wherever you like." I replied, a bit confused by the growing excitement on her face.
It was frightening how quickly she reacted. She bound into me, heavily throwing me off balance. The force of her tackle was being calculated, but she still wasn't done. She managed to roll me onto my back before striking my unprotected stomach with her claws, easily scratching through the canvas layer and gliding across the steel plate beneath. Due to her interaction with the steel plate, I was able to calculate a claw length and sharpness to match hers. The canvas layer resealed after her strike, leaving my fur layer looking slightly ruffled. Meanwhile, she looked much calmer, like she finally got to vent on something without consequence, which wasn't far from the truth. Slowly I stood up to look at the molly.
"Was that the amount of force you want me to restrict myself to?" I asked, now drawing her attention.
She almost seemed confused by the question for a second before remembering what we were doing. "Yes. That's about the maximum I want you to hit with. Though. Don't pull claws like I did. We keep claws sheathed during training. I just… I had to take advantage of your claim at invulnerability a little bit. You seem unhurt by it." She answered.
I gave an amused chuckle. "I am by no means invulnerable. There are several things that could leave me inoperable. If I were to be covered in a layer of mud for an extended period, I'd be forced into standby to prevent myself from overheating. I will likely be running less efficiently in the summer due to this. While I may be more durable than flesh, my joints are still weak to being pierced. I am also susceptible to electric shock, and I am too dense to swim. If I were to fall into the rapids of a river or down a mountain, there is a very real possibility that something critical could be damaged and force me down before it could be repaired."
She looked me up and down incredulously before nodding. "Good to know. Nice to know you trust us enough with a means to deal with you should it prove necessary."
"Oh. If you wanted to stop me, Blair and Snowpaw have authorization to override me. All they'd have to say to me is Override: Shutdown, to turn me off. If they do, they are also allowed to turn me back on by using the command, Activate SPARC." I explained.
"You'd really give that level of trust to such a young cat?" She asked, almost concerned.
"Yes. If Snowpaw deems it necessary, he may shut me down at any time. He is considered a full employee by ESRAI within my branch, so he has full authority on the equipment assigned to us. This body is designed to integrate with cat society as well as protect assets important to us. Keeping Snowpaw alive and healthy is my primary function. The tools I have to do so are also at yours to use, as long as the request is reasonable. I am capable of advanced medical care. Cinderpelt was the name of the cat with the broken leg right? Unfortunately, that leg has set wrong for a prolonged period of time. If allowed, I could do surgery to repair the leg to be as functional as it would allow. She'd have an extended recovery time, and I estimate the limb would only recover about 70% of its previous strength, but she'd be able to walk and run again with a slight limp." I stated in a factual monotone.
Bluestar looked at me with a measure of hope. I must have seemed like some kind of blessing given what I was able to offer. Though, if Bluestar asked me to do the surgery, I'd have to resupply my metal stockpile since I'd have to put a plate into her leg. Since I couldn't just mine more up, I'd have to eventually 'crash' another drone carrying an iron for Sparky to dismantle. It's a shame plastic is so easy to make. I've got too much stockpiled already, and a drone is about 90% plastic.
Snowpaw was the one to refocus us, asking if we could get to battle training already. If I could blush, I'd be blushing with embarrassment. Bluestar guided us through the basic strike movements. Turns out learning how to hit as a cat is far more nuanced than you'd think. The paw pad is the primary strike point, dispersing the force throughout the rest of the paw evenly. On top of that, there was attack placement. Cats here don't go for the kill. They go for sensitive points like the ears and nose. To them, driving off an opponent is far more honorable than killing one. A chivalry code foreign to human nature. It likely originated due to their lower population density and that they've got a loose alliance with the rest of the clans to repel foreign invaders.
"Oh! You left tuna out for me." I heard Blair mew, reminding me I still had a human life as well. It was only an hour later did I realize I understood her without a translator, likely another byproduct of my gamble with the ITS.
