Home sweet home [Me + invited]

[Below Par]

After absent mindedly catching the glass, refilling it and sliding it back Machine loads one for himself, knocks it back then says

"Okay then. From the why to the how. To start with I'm considered a little 'weird' by a lot of people. Should the unfortunate situation arise where there's a lull in the action and nothing else worth doing we can always trade life history then. Point is not how that came to be but what it means now. I have fallen off the proverbial line between genius and madness. There will be things I will say and do that, at first glance, will appear annoying, infuriating or even outright treacherous. It will always be part of some bigger ruse to finish the job and I always finish the job. One of those weird things about me. I'll also need to utilse your considerable talents to help along the way.

Like what I'll need with the first task here. It's gonna have to be a ground up build for something this sophisticated. At least that is if you actually want it clean and able to fly without worrying about caressing a control and catching an explosion in the face. This means I need to know what bits need to be cleared up out of the design. All those lockouts, immobilisers, inhibitors, overrides, kill-switches and booby-traps in all the systems that all little paranoid ship builders are made of. I've been testing a theory that might just help but it's going to take a stolen silicone soul to even try."

Frowning like he'd forgotten something Machine lit a fresh cigar, idly offered another to Silver and tried to look down the track of his train of thought to see where it was leading him.

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