i won’t make you regret this, the human says. yeah, i sure hope you don’t!
still, she’s almost grateful to be sitting down. almost - he’s certainly a better drier than the cap’n, but the uneasy terrain worries her. little buddy sits in her lap, folded over her hands, asleep. at first, it’s just the worry of little buddy tumbling over.
and, to only add to her worries, a shiny white machine. it’s certainly different than anything she’d built or repaired - octarian machines were utilitarian, made mostly of scrap, of anything they could find. this was not old steel turned into an octowasher, this was purpose built. even above, in far better funded inkopolis, there wasn’t a reason to purpose make weapons, when using leftovers and broken things was better for the environment, anyways. the seams on this thing fit together perfectly, not hammered in place. it’s… a little too sanitized for her taste, but the manufacturing is too fascinating, so the pros outweigh the cons.
❛ if you weren’t here as a murder machine, ❜ eden laughs to herself, almost delirious sounding, but she’s talking to the robot, ❛ you would be an absolute beauty. well, you’re still a beautiful construct. i mean, really, reactive to just a whistle? and such good construction. ❜ she coos over the machine the same way she would judd. she wonders why they never bothered making their machines this… aware.
granted, it’s not like the octarian military had that kind of money, given how much they must have spent on hypnosis-based retention alone. and, well, the inklings had always lagged behind the octarians when it came to tech. ( the things that could be done together - but that’s a train of thought for an eden who is safe, at home, in her cute little apartment. )
❛ but, to answer your question - i… will tell you as much as i can. ❜ the fact that he thinks she’s somehow in a legitimate enough position to get paid is very funny to her. ❛ i can decidedly confirm that i’m neither, if you want to consider employment, and… the tech is, ironically, unrelated. ❜
it’s… mostly true. after all, tartar and its developments were entirely unrelated to the new squidbeak splatoon; though, eden’s involvement with the nss were related to tartar. if the telephone had not kidnapped her and the captain, she would never have become an agent. and, of course, her ( really, everyone’s ) access came from her time as a test subject for kamabo co. what a complicated web, and one that explaining would take too long. so, she continues.
❛ this piece of an untested hell circle was made by kamaboko - ❜ she clears her throat, ❛ kamabo corporation, a… uh… shell company, if you will. from what i’ve…. gleaned of it, it’s just a modified respawn point, but how it was modified is, beyond me. i thought, perhaps, it was meant for easy transport across their test facilities, because it seems to use coordinates, but… clearly not. ❜ eden huffs in annoyance. ❛ for the record, i was against the idea of holding a party in the facilities of an evil shell corp. ❜
Her reaction to the badnik is far from expected, but it comes as a pleasant surprise; Stone’s heard plenty of government higher-ups comment on the usefulness of Robotnik’s drones, or on their unorthodox designs, or on how many more turrets could conceivably be packed into their casings if one were to remove their “unnecessary” extra parts. He hasn’t, however, heard many people besides the Doctor himself offer compliments like these-- much less murmur them to the badniks directly.
Stone gives a real, genuine smile. “It is pretty magnificent, huh?” Just like its creator. ...god, he hopes this future tech works; getting his hopes up has done nothing to make him miss Doctor Robotnik any less. He doesn’t want to think too hard about what he’ll do if he ends up back to square one with no Robotnik, no portal, and one whole teenager he can’t send home.
“Respawn point?” Stone is not pleased to hear that she apparently has about as much knowledge of the device’s modifications as he does, but at least she’s not completely useless. Even without specific expertise, she obviously knows something about her world’s tech if the way she casually throws around terms with which the human is unfamiliar is any indication.
“So you thought it was a short-range, um, spatial transport, and it turned out to be a long-range temporal one instead. When we crack it open, do you think you’ll be able to identify how it’s different from a normal transportation device?”
When she lets out an irritated huff, Stone lets out a puff of laughter; he can only imagine the sort of imbeciles she had to have been dealing with for any of that to have happened.
“I’m sure you were. You seem like a smart kid. ...maybe once we figure out all this time travel, we can send you back in time to move the party-- or convince them not to have one at all.” He has no intention of actually getting into the territory of any potential paradoxes, but Agent Eight obviously cares a lot about the people she’s left behind (even the ones foolish enough to have brought that disaster upon themselves); he’s certain she’ll be helpfully motivated by the chance to play hero.
The town is quiet when Stone pulls up to the Mean Bean. There are a few lights on here and there, but the streets are completely empty as he parks and comes around the front of the car to help his guest with the door.
“This is our stop.” The badnik follows them out, performing idle sweeps of the darkened streetcorner as Stone moves to unlock his cafe. “If you thought one robot was impressive, prepare to be-- more impressed. ...don’t worry, it’s still totally safe.”
