A quiet table in the Navi Shop

How was he supposed to make proper sense of any of this? He was a data specialist, not a medical doctor... was it too much to ask for a simple, enumerated, set of statistics? Did other operators have to deal with this when checking on their navis? Surely not...

Rogan tried to draw something meaningful from the readout his screen offered him, but aside from the wave charts that he knew represented her mental and emotional displays, which were spiking madly, the rest told him everything, and nothing. Where her basic numerical statistics were normally shown had switched over to a critical alert that instead showed what looked like a medical schematic of the navi, complete with bone and muscle structure, organs, and well, everything else that belonged in a human, and not an AI. Had Eric really done this? He'd seen the diagram before and assumed it was just for show; realism was one thing but this... much of the diagram was a light green tone, yet a large portion of it had faded through to red, with particular highlighting on what he though were meant to be the rib cage, and one lung. Ok... but... he didn't even remember how the readout for that area looked normally when it was green, so how was he to know where the relative damage was the worst, or how badly it was affecting her other functions?

A glance back to the virtual netspace, and Lyntael coughing something that looked suspiciously like blood made him flick back to the statistics screen again just as quickly. If the damage genuinely was hampering her functions, then one glance was all he needed to know there was little point giving her any orders just yet. Leslie had answered him while he was trying to make sense of the readouts, and it took him a moment to go back over what his ears had heard and process it properly. It never occurred to the man just how suddenly caught up in the situation he had grown in those few moments, until he had to consciously relax and step back to respond to her. When he did, it was a softly resigned shrug that he offered first.

"And what sort of a gentleman would I be, to simply pull her out and leave you alone in the lurch with a situation you're determined to see through, simply because my own labours are completed? You are in this situation because of me, so I'll see it through with you now... My warnings were not said to try to convince you one way or the other..." He shrugged, looking down again. His eyes darted back up to Leslie a moment later, then dropped in a small, almost embarrassed bowing of his head.

"Thankyou..." The actions his friend had taken had apparently been passed on to his own navi instead; the critical display had mostly faded back through to green in the worst affected areas, though he still couldn't make a lot of sense from it, and Lyntael's mental readings were beginning to normalise again. He took a moment to see that her general statistics, and along with it, her full functionality, had more or less been restored, then looked up to his companion again.

"As I said, I'm not trying to convince you of anything, only to warn. I know what you believe and how you see this situation, but, it is your conscience and your personal consequences that I am concerned for. If you will be comfortable with going to SciLab directly for this, confident that it is a safe and right choice for the program you wish to save, and comfortable with whatever consequences may stem from doing so, both for it, and for yourself... Then so be it, that is your decision to make." He shook his head, then scrubbed one hand through his hair, thinking. "If you're determined, I can probably sort things out so that, when it comes to the red tape and the questions of why our navis were where they were, any cross investigations won't touch you and you won't go on any official records. That should at least help protect you from any possibly unhelpful publicity. I'll try." It was true enough, really... He intended to fix it so that neither of them were ever here at all. Shifting his gaze back to his PET, he fixed the external playback and re-muted it on both ends, restricting their communications to private again, though Leslie would still hear him talking, of course.

"Lyntael... report," Unaware of it himself, Rogan's voice was much softer and more gentle than his usual communications with his navi. When she didn't respond, he looked back to the view of their virtual space and realised that talking to him was probably not a wise move in her current position. Lyntael seemed to have trouble with the concept of talking to him without actually speaking, literally, herself. Probably another of Eric's realisms, he supposed. A moment later an email notification winked on in the corner of his screen, apparently from himself. He opened it; this was not the first time she'd done this instead of speaking directly.

"I'm... I am alright, sir. I want to say that I'm very afraid, sir, that I don't want to die. But I know that won't mean anything to you, so... I am... recovered, sir." He nodded slowly, even though she couldn't see, and closed the message, deleting it.

"Good. Assist Martia in whatever course she and Leslie determine upon, however you may."
On screen he saw her nod almost imperceptibly and sat back again, eyes focused on his PET now with something of a pensive frown marking his face. He was aware that he'd allowed himself to react so distinctly to the situation, far more so than he should have, but more than that, was the realisation that, in telling himself that he oughtn't let such things affect him so, he had to admit to having the inclination to react so in the first place. That was worrisome.

Leslie matched Rogan's shrug with a bigger one of her own, though hers was accompanied with a smirk. It looked like her healing chip had a bit of an effect on the operator as well as the Navi. "Don't mention it. What good's being a friend if you never do anything for them?" It might've been easy to take such a statement as some sort of verbal jab, deserved or otherwise...but it was said so bluntly that it seemed hard to believe it wasn't sincere. Doubly so considering the speaker's track record. "Well, warning received, but I meant what I said. As long as we can help out that monster, the consequences can go screw themselves for all I care. But still...thanks for saying you'll stick up for me." It actually meant quite a bit to her, considering she usually had to deal with such things by herself...

With that, the martial artist looked back at her PET, only to see that Martia had taken a seat. Considering she was still calm, it wasn't forced, so why? Fortunately, she had the sense to shut up and listen, and managed to piece together that she was doing so to gain the monster's trust. It certainly made sense, but...even she'd be hesitant to do something like that. She had to admit, her Navi had some serious guts. ...Actually, that was a terrible way to put it, it made Martia sound fat, and the only areas she was wide in were the chest, the hips, and the buttocks. Hmm...she had serious balls? No, that was even worse, because it made it sound like Martia was an extremely girly looking guy. Then again, ovaries fit the bill, so maybe they could serve as balls? ...No, that wasn't working for her. Anyway, the point was, she was extremely courageous, and possibly moreso than her operator. There, that sounded good. Leslie gave herself a small self-congratulatory nod, glad that she'd ironed that out.

With that, she looked up, noting that her friend seemed less than happy. He'd been irritated often enough before, but here he almost looked...worried? That was different for him. "Something bugging you?" Hey, if she could see it that easily, it had to be worth asking about, at least.
Lost in his own thoughts for the moment, Rogan glanced up, blinking as Leslie queried him. His surprise was less for the question and more for realising that he'd let it show in the first place, but he quickly schooled his features and offered her a wry grin instead.

"Oh, don't worry, just a distracting line of though, nothing that will impact upon the present, I promise." He shook his head again and brushed the comment aside with a small hand gesture. To shift the conversation, he looked down to the screen, studying it quickly for something that piqued his attention, and settled on looking at the creature the two navis were attempting to talk to.

"It is fascinating... Unethical, certainly," just as any cribbing or modifying of another person's work without permission was... but better not to make that distinction overt to his companion. "But still fascinating." Flicking the screen over to the controls for his probe, he tried to get a decent analysis of the program, then looked back up to Leslie in between glancing at it.

"Though... if I were its maker, I'd be concerned about program integrity. I may not recognise most of what it looks like here... though my brother probably would... but I can distinguish clearly different sets of data, with different origins." He shook his head, a small frown of thought on his lips. "And if even I can tell the difference between different parts of the coding, that's not a good sign. If it's been around as long as it has, I'm vaguely surprised that it's continued to function without losing integrity." He paused and tilted his head. "Unless it was in some form of stasis before I broke through the outer locks. I had to create a new bypass when I accessed and it was an all permissions deal. If my target was operating under some remaining restrictions, perhaps he could have still worked there without... Hmm..." He stopped himself from thinking aloud, then continued on a safer train of thought. "I suppose it lends some credence to your suggestions that it was a known haven beforehand, in a blind-spot for SciLab itself... I know the target I'm after has no honest affiliation with them, so perhaps those who used this haven before him didn't either." He nodded his head along with an action reminiscent of raising a glass to her, the motion as a whole a clear concession of the point.

Just as he was looking back to the screen, he noticed that the program in question was now throwing itself viciously against the passage up to the normal nets, which had resealed after Lyntael had passed through. One way or the other that wasn't good. Her voice reached him a moment later, and her request came... carefully worded to say the least. Rogan took a second or two to think.

Under normal circumstances, he would be ably to simply wipe the archive as a whole, and scramble everything there, but in this case... he glanced up at Leslie across from him... that wouldn't be wise if he wished to keep his bones and internal organs in their proper places. Not to mention, it would more or less guaranteed that people would know that someone had been snooping, as well as bring a large number of official people down on their heads... possibly with tazers.

"From here, there are a number of things I could do to solve the problem, Lyntael, most of which would result in the total erasure of that archive and the scrubbing of all data artefacts from that particular isolated zone. Including yourself. Suffice to say, given our present company, I do not," here he raised one hand, fingers up and palm out in a gesture both to calm and reassure his friend. "Consider any of those methods to be helpful options at the moment..." What then, could he do that was helpful? Well, he'd bypassed that particular barrier already; making edits to it on the fly should be feasible, now that he knew it. He explained his plan to Lyntael quickly, beginning to work as he did. It would buy them some time, either to succeed in stopping it peacefully, or else to come to the conclusion that diplomacy wouldn't work. One way or the other, at least he could say he was letting his new friend follow her own wishes.

"Eric always was better at the more virtual side of things." He looked up to Leslie for a moment and shrugged. "I'd wager he'd be equal parts intrigued and horrified by this, and I'm sure he'd be in the same boat as you about saving it." He kept working as he talked. "Aye... he'd probably even be able to fix the thing with a bit of work, knowing that man. Alas, you'll have to settle for me. Hmm... I think I can buy some more time, perhaps... a little... but I doubt I can stop it from being able to break through eventually." He shook his head and kept working.

Oh, he wasn't going to share. Lame. But this time, she wasn't going to let him off the hook quite so easily. "Fine, whatever...but, just because it's not important to what's going on, doesn't mean you can't tell me. I just want to make sure you know that!" Leslie gave him a wink, since he seemed to be a fan of them at times like these. She kinda hoped he's spill his guts now, but somehow she doubted it...oh well.

"Fascinating? Sure, it's the cyberworld or whatever, but this violates everything good and decent about the universe! I mean, this is like if they kidnapped you, grabbed a stray dog or two, and fused you into a single being! That's just not right!" Really, she felt bad for everything that had to be combined, just to satisfy some sick person's ego. "...Program integrity? What does that have to-" Her eyes widened as it dawned her just what that meant. "...It could fall apart? But, the way it is now...we need to calm that thing down and get it transferred, and fast! We don't know how much longer it has!" Notably, that thought completely prevented her from enjoying the fact she was probably right about it not actually being SciLab that created the monster. It was noted, but it was small comfort next to that.

Equally small comfort was what Rogan went on to say to his Navi. 'Given our present company'? So, he WOULD do it if she and Martia weren't there? Because if so, she might punch him anyway for being that callous. He was lucky there were other things on her mind, or else he'd be grilled like a tuna melt right about now. "Martia! I'm all for taking the slow approach, but you can't take too long, or that thing might disintegrate, and then no one can help it!"

The Navi closed her eyes for a moment, and began transmitting some text to the PET screen: "I know, it already told me something to that effect. But, we can't force it to get help. If we do that, we're not really any different from the nutjobs that created it. I'm doing this as fast as I can, but trust takes time. You know that."

"...Okay, but...don't screw around or anything. The sooner SciLab gets to it, the better. For everyone." With a sad sigh, Leslie set her PET down on the table, and stared at it for a moment. She absolutely hated not being able to do anything at a time like this...but right now, all she could do was sit there and pray that Martia and Lyn would pull it off. "Hoo boy...what a situation, huh Rogan? Can't say I was expecting all this when we started..."
As she winked at him, Rogan's lip twitched upward almost involuntarily. Just a corner, and just a little, but definitely the small hint of a smile. As determined as she seemed to tease out his slip from before, it would be hard to put something into words when he hadn't even examined it himself yet.
Instead he raised his eyebrows at her pressing, the small twitch growing into something approaching amusement. A suitably witty response didn't present itself right away, but he was saved by the fact that his friend moved on quickly with her other thoughts, only to be further cut off by the conversation with her navi. He chuckled softly once she got back to him.

"No indeed. Certainly not your average day at the office, or the dojo, as the case may be. It would be a strange irony if the events here turned out to have relevance to my main task today... If you'd not spoken to me back at the shop, I doubt I'd have happened upon this situation at all, working alone." He didn't need to say that the work would have been more akin to his normal method in recent weeks... which was the same sort of diving, but with less actual fighting, and more of Lyntael running from location to location showing displays of panic and terror the whole way... He didn't need to say it because he was fairly sure Leslie already knew that well enough, having seen Lyntael in 'action' so far. Something she had said before the exchange with her navi held is his mind for a moment, and it was far too tempting to resist prodding, just a little bit. As he resettled himself, he recrossed his legs and rested one elbow on the arm of his chair, propping his chin on the back of his hand as he watched her.

"Tell me though, Leslie... You decry me finding the science fascinating, because the practice is immoral and unethical, but the same sort of thing goes on routinely every day, and you benefit from its fruits, quite literally. Let us call the programs that have been experimented on here living beings. For the sake of discussion, I'll give you that. You find it... what did you say... a violation of everything good and decent in the universe? Fair enough, but then, are you equally zealous about the same practice being not only conducted, but performed en masse, in wide-scale lots, every day, on actual living things, here, in this world, with the full and complete knowledge and consent of the general public? Because it is." He briefly wondered whether to explain himself right away, or to let her bite first and then answer, but as much as he was taking a liking to the young lady, something about her overbearing righteous certainty made him decide on the latter. There would be time enough for a little healthy philosophy, now that the program had ceased its attacks. So he left the statement hanging for her and brushed past it with a soft smile, well-meaning enough to show that he was aiming for discussion, not argument, and moved on as though the proposition was of no consequence to him. He was fairly sure she'd grab a hold of it no matter where he pointed the conversation so casually after the fact.

"As for myself, I appreciate the offer, but I'm rarely in the habit of putting words to something before I've fully thought it through in my own mind, and the worry you caught me in before is a thing that I've realised I must think through and examine more carefully, so that I can understand it myself, first. I do apologise, but as I recall, there are things you did not wish to share with me, also... subjects unwilling to be spoken of?" He raised both hands in a small gesture of innocent helplessness and grinned.

"Yeah, I can believe that!" Leslie suddenly got the mental image of Lyn just running away from anything and everything resembling a virus until she found that area, then jacking out the instant she saw the monster. Now why would that of all things pop into her head? Aside from the fact that it was probably totally what normally happened, and that probably the only reason there was any fighting at all was because Martia tagged along. Which reminded her...she was probably going to have to go straight back to the Navi shop after this, since her Navi had seen others fighting, and she was going to need some place to store that data for her own personal use. Man, NetBattling was fun, but it was expensive...

She snapped back from her own thoughts as Rogan went on, calling into question what she said. Said question drew him a stare, but it wasn't blank or angry...more like puzzled. It was clear from her eyes that she was at the very least trying to figure out what he meant, but failing. "...What do you mean by that?" Again, she wasn't angry, as some might've expected; she was simply honestly not comprehending what he was getting at.

Besides, he'd managed to complete turn her tease back on her. And it worked. "Yeah...I understand. Though to be fair, I also just don't want the conversation to get too depressing. I mean, who would actually WANT to hear about a young girl that stood in the street and wat-" The martial artist raised her hand over her mouth, realizing that she almost did the exact thing she didn't want to do. Hell, she might've already said too much as is.

And in what was probably a mistake, she closed her eyes for a moment, to try and compose herself...but even now, 8 years after it happened, she still remembered it all like it was yesterday...the cool autumn night, the joy of getting to skip training to spend a day with her mother...the people dressed as ninjas that confronted them, her mother making her run off before they attacked...and then, turning back that instant where they...they...

Leslie quickly opened her eyes, so that she wouldn't recall that particularly grisly detail. She was trying to fight off tears, but what she didn't notice was that she had already failed, and a couple were streaming down her cheeks. "...Like I said, it's best to just skip that...so, what were you saying about the science, or whatever...?" Really, at the moment, she more or less just wanted to go crawl in a corner and cry. Even after all those years, nothing hurt her worse than recalling that night...but, she figured that since she was with someone, the best thing to do was endure and change the subject to get her mind back on track.
The reaction was... not what he'd expected, or hoped for. Rogan drew back again, biting his tongue for the moment as his brow creased. Truthfully she'd not said very much, but between the bits and pieces, and her reaction to dealing with the matter, both times, the pieces more or less dropped into place. He certainly hadn't meant to recall her to the thoughts she wished to avoid, only to divert her from his own, but now the damage was clearly done. He could see she was thinking about things she'd rather not, and willing away tears that wouldn't be restrained. Leslie seemed the sort of person who would prefer to pretend nothing was wrong at all, but couldn't make himself say nothing at all. Rather, he found himself rubbing the back of his neck, a rare feeling of awkward guilt plaguing him.

"Now I truly do feel like a lout... Please forgive me Leslie. I've my own share of things against which I try not to look back, and it wasn't my intention to..." He shook his head, wincing slightly, and gestured as though brushing it away. "You know, never mind. You have the right of it; other matters." Raising his head to meet her eyes, he tried a smile, though this one was less self assured. "I begin to suspect it may be better if I just make you angry again. Well, better for you. Probably not for me, I imagine."

Rogan took a moment to resettle himself, and looked away again, giving Leslie a few moment to recover herself without his obvious attention, before picking up the point she'd nibbled at before. It was as good a place as any to shift to, especially since it was likely to get her riled more than anything else.

"Before what I was talking about, was simply horticulture. Every day experiments in grafting and splicing are conducted to try to produce 'better' plants for us to make use of. Stronger, hardier, more fruitful, better for making fabrics or twines, longer living... superior in any number of ways to their original counterparts. The fruit and vegetables you eat, the clothes you wear, all sourced from plants that have been, earlier back in their generation spliced, grafted, scioned and spliced again." He shrugged softly and recrossed his legs, tilting his head to watch his friend now, as much to be sure her mind was off the previous thoughts, as to gauge her reaction to the new topic.

"The practice has remained remarkably unchanged for countless generations, and while it may be more efficient and more expediently handled these days, the basic principles remain; Grafting with stock of one and scion of another, to create an unnatural plant, which is then induced to give seed to offspring with that blended genetic, that it may in turn be spliced as stock or scion again. No one objects to this, nor even to benefiting directly from it... but it is no different, or perhaps you might say, no less a violation, than the splicing of programs in an attempt to do the same. Speaking philosophically, tell me how it differs?"

He smiled here, though it was a gentle gesture, more than anything else; the tone of his voice was reasoning, rather than debating with any vigour. As much as he wanted to fully unravel the problem with his friend's beliefs on the matter, he found himself feeling bad enough for being the cause of such clear upset before, that it was difficult to put any real forcefulness into his voice.

"Th-thanks...I'm all right." Leslie took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself, and hopefully expel those painful memories for a little while. Truth be told, deep down, she was a little embarrassed at herself for what she'd just done, since it was basically a giant sucker punch on their conversation. And even she could tell that Rogan was going a little softer on her now, since she went and did that. It didn't sit all that well with her, but she suddenly found herself too emotionally drained to care enough to say something about it. Ugh, she hated feeling like that...

Anyway, she should answer the question while it was still fresh in her mind. "There's not really a difference...and I don't like it. Not one bit. It's not right for people to decide what parts of plants are useful and what ones aren't. If something was supposed to have certain traits, it'd happen naturally!...Heh, surprised I feel that way? Remember, I grew up in a really traditionalist neighborhood. Any tampering with natural processes is basically treated as an insult to the gods. Granted, I'm not exactly devout, but...well, I wouldn't want someone attaching a tail to me so that I'd end up starting a whole new race of people with tails. Golden rule and all that, you know?"

With that, the martial artist sat back and let him process that. Any sign that she'd been fighting off tears just a few moments ago was now gone; she was back to her usual, upbeat self. Mostly, anyway...the corners of her mind were still fending off those memories. But overall, she was pretty much back to normal.
Rogan nodded slowly, as his friend answered, no sign of his mild surprise making it through to his expression. Truthfully he'd been expecting her answer to come the other way around; and that he'd need to really sell the concept of plants as living yet non-consenting beings. This worked too, though. He found himself quietly pleased that she seemed to have collected herself quickly, at least, and was glad to be away from both sets of unwanted topics.

"And yet, Leslie... You stand by and accept. The clothing you wear, the food you eat... the tea you drink so eagerly; all the product of plants that genetically are nothing like their original wild fore-bearers. You say you see no difference, and object to one as strongly as the other, but your actions seem to speak otherwise." With a small smile, he raised his hands, palms up in a weighing gesture.

"On the one hand, you say you object, but in practice, you contentedly reap the benefits of one without complaint, and even a detectable portion of delight, judging by your enjoyment of our earlier drinks... And last I heard, you weren't in the practice of shutting down botany labs or rescuing textile crops." His head tilted slightly. "Yet, on the other hand, here we are, putting ourselves out and risking our navis, and you yourself risking the problems of potential negative publicity, for the sake of one single entity. If it truly is not any different, in your mind, then why one, but not the other?" He raised an eyebrow to her, and turned the weighing gesture of his hands into a helpless shrug. "More tea?"

Maybe that last was a little bit of a needle, perhaps, but not without purpose, he reasoned. It wasn't like he was trying to make her agree with him; that was never the point of a discussion like this. It was simply to make a person think more carefully, and more closely about their own belief and stance, and to help them examine the ground upon which they stood with a clearer eye. After all, it was hard to be heroic and righteous, without first look long and hard at your reasons for what you believed. Rogan watched Leslie closely. The question was whether she'd understand it that way, or just see him as being argumentative for the sake of it. hopefully she wouldn't take his deliberately awkward questions amiss.

"Not as much as you might think, actually..." Surprisingly, Leslie remained completely calm, not even so much as moving up in her seat. "Lemme think...my jacket and belt were locally made by hand, so I don't think they work for your argument. I guess everything else does, though, since even though it all says 'Made in Electopia', the stuff they used was probably brought in from abroad, since we're not exactly known for our cotton. Food and drink, uh...nope, we try to stay in the neighborhood whenever possible, since we know a few farmers. Now if only Yoka was closer to the sea, so we could know some fishermen too..." The thought of fresh, homemade sashimi was almost enough to make her drool...even if she'd probably find a way to mess up making it.

"Anyway, I guess without even realizing it, I've at least made an effort to avoid it. There's not really anything I can do to completely cut it out...but I can still try and minimize it. And that doesn't mean I like it or anything! But, if you're gonna be stubborn and ask me what's the difference...it's because in the case of the...thing, we have the power to change it ourselves. Like you said, horticulture's been around a long time. And because it's considered useful, it'll take a lot more than one neighborhood bad mouthing it to change. Especially when that neighborhood's known for being a collective stick in the ass. But this is different. You, me, our Navis, and some help from SciLab. That's all it takes to make a difference here. We don't have to change the world's thinking, we just need to do what's right. And like hell am I gonna just sit back and let something like that degrade into nothing when there's a chance we can fix it!" The martial artist puffed out her chest a bit, clearly happy with herself over her answer. She didn't even retaliate for his tea-based jab, she was so content. Which was decidedly a good thing for Rogan's shin.
Ah, the defence of particulars; a dear old friend and ever-recurring hurdle. Rogan chuckled softly, allowing the wry mirth to wash his features for a few moments after his companion made her case.

"Oh, aye... Staying local, where we can pretend that, because we saw it growing in the field over there, it's not a crop which has been selectively bred for all the finest traits as we see them, for generations without count, and, truthfully resembles very little of its original progenitor at all. I grant, Electopia itself is quite well known for... staying fast to tradition, to be charitable, but even that tradition, in this case, breeds and grows with selection; taking the preferred and disregarding the unwanted, until only the most 'desirable' strain remains... until everyone thinks that that is just what's 'normal' and 'natural'. Tell me, Leslie... do you know what colour corn is?" He arched an eyebrow, but moved on quickly, his eyes cutting in to a sharper, more pointed glance.

"What you're actually telling me, Ms Battle, is that, if practices such as what have been done to this program were more widespread, and more accepted by more people, and were considered to be useful by a large proportion of people... far from crusading against it, you would accept and allow it, and do as little to stop it as you do to stop horticultural practices today, only deigning to take up the fiery sword of your righteousness when something small and manageable comes along, which you can do to feel good for yourself, and convince yourself you're making a difference, even when you know, in reality, that what you do will have no impact upon the larger picture at all..." he paused then softened his features with a small smile, and turned the palm of one hand outward again in an off-hand gesture. "Or at least, that is what you have just said to me, by your own reasoning... Though I doubt it's really true."

He stretched slightly, and glanced at his PET, then back up to his companion. About to say more, he had just opened his mouth when Lyntael's voice reached him. As she spoke, his eyebrows drew down slightly at how desperate and pleading her request sounded. Simulation or not that was a very strange reaction to behaving to the situation, surely. Though, he could probably chalk it up to her being aware of what a compromising request it was.

"Lyntael, you know that I'd really rather..." He stopped himself, glancing up to Leslie for a moment, then back to the screen, and his navi. She was kneeling beside the same creature that had injured her before, which seemed to have collapsed now, making quite a show of pleading to him, even though she could only hear his voice. His eyebrow twitched slightly. And she was naked from the waist up, with the rest of her clothing looking ragged as well. Situation aside, he was struck again by the urge to curse his brother as a pervert, for giving her such detailing.

He could do what she asked, of course, but it would mean putting up a big sign that would let his target know that he'd been discovered, somehow, by someone. It wouldn't exactly invalidate his work, but it was still something he wished to avoid. Another quick glance to Leslie and he sighed, forgetting for the moment that Lyntael couldn't see him, and nodded his head.
"Yes. I can do that." Closing out the communication, he brought up the work he'd done earlier and prepared to run a second bypass on the haven's seals, just in case they didn't yield automatically when the navis tried to leave. They'd locked down fairly hard when the creature had emerged, but the system was the same, and re-opening them would only take a moment even if they remained locked down. He looked up to his companion again.

"I do apologise for side-tracking, but if you're still set on bringing this to SciLab directly as what you want to do, then it's probably about time one of us made the call, it seems. Would you like to, or shall I?" He shrugged and recrossed his legs, then settled back in his seat again.

"Incidentally, you never answered me about the tea, Leslie... perhaps because, as well as being something that you personally enjoy and take delight in, it is also a poster-child for just this sort of practice, maybe? No tea that you can acquire anywhere today does not come from crops which have been carefully and rigorously bred for specific selective traits which we, as consumers, find pleasing, after all... 'naturally' in some places, true, but still many generational selection, to the disregard of those deemed unfitting." He winked at her, to take some of the sting out of his words, completely unaware that the rapid jump and switch back of topics might be disorienting for someone potentially less used to such casual cut and thrust.

If one looked hard enough, one could almost see the question marks coming out of Leslie's head, as something Rogan said flew over her. "...Corn? I know I've heard that somewhere before...but I don't remember just what it is." Had to be some sort of plant, but other than that, she was drawing a blank. But that wasn't the important "But anyway, that's not what I mean. It's just, you have to know your limits. I can't change the entire world on my own. But, I can still try to convince other people that it's wrong. And then, they can convince other people that it's wrong. And eventually, enough people will be convinced that the whole thing gets banned. It's not a perfect system, but that's just the way it is..."

She would've gone on, but was interrupted by Lyn as she started to make a request of him. In the meantime, her own Navi contacted her, and she dealt with that for a moment. The two operators finished around the same time, so Rogan's question got an almost immediate answer. "I'll do it."

But first, she had tea questions to answer. "So, what about it? Just because I don't like how it came to be, I shouldn't drink it? It's not like I can go back in time and make it so that it's grown the way I think it should. And I think it's better to admit something's seriously flawed than try to pretend it's perfect. ...Like, probably everything I'm saying, right?" Though she herself wasn't aware of it, there was a hint of sadness at the end of Leslie's last statement. "I...know that I look like, and probably am, a hypocrite for it. But, that doesn't make any of it right, and that includes me...but anyway, I need to call up SciLab, okay?" Let's see, she had the number to call for Net incidents stored somewhere...there it was. All right, let's see how stunned they'd be that such a thing was going on right under their noses...even now, she could hardly believe that someone tried that.
Leslie dialed the Science Labs on her PET. After a few rings it picked up, displaying a young woman in a nice business suit and tiny hat. She looked like the model receptionist. She was probably a Navi. "Thank you for calling SciLab," she started in a chipper and professional voice, smiling all the while. "The global hub of Electopia's information technology! How may I direct your call?"
The receptionist...Navi, probably, threw Leslie off a bit. Exactly what did the situation fall under? Eh, she could just ask. "Well, actually...I'm not sure. What does 'me and my friend stumbled across some horrific, probably multiple law breaking experiments and we want to report it and get some help for the surviving victims of it' fall under?" ...When she said it out loud like that, it just sounded completely ridiculous. "...I know that sounds crazy, but trust me, it happened. If you could let us talk to someone that could help with that, that'd be great." Hmm, maybe she should've let Rogan do this. He'd probably figure out how to make it sound like they weren't on crack. Oh well, a little late now.
Rogan allowed himself to smile softly and nodded to his companion as she sorted through her own words for the meaning of what she actually felt. It wasn't that he mistook her position; it was quite understandable, and he was fairly sure he could appreciate the core of what she felt about it, however misguided... but it was enjoyable to illustrate what a person's own words entailed when taken for what they were. If anything, it might help young Leslie to better define what she thought and felt, with more clarity, in the future, and wasn't that always the aim of discussions like this?

He inclined his head rather than answer right away and let her make the call. At some point he knew, he'd need to assist in revealing and exposing the haven, since a net address alone wouldn't help, and then the questions of propriety and civilian access would probably come into play... unless they were too focused on what they had to show to think of it. Always a possibility, he supposed, and a pleasant one to hope for at that. Still, better to be ready in advance.

While Leslie spoke to whatever official she'd gotten a hold of, Rogan brought up the system data he'd used before and began to put things in place for opening the seal again and prepared a handful of bypass idents that would work the same way Lyntael's had. Whether they did the retrieval at the operator level, or with actual navis, he'd have something neat and simple for them to work with that should leave a nice neat dead end for questions asked after the fact. Once they had access to the haven and started cleaning it out, as they'd most likely want to, there was a good chance they'd find trace of the deeper data he'd been after, but short of pulling Lyntael out sharp and walking away, there was little he could do to prevent that now. One would be forgiven for thinking that the level of deep thought marring his brow was related to the quick patchwork he was doing, rather than his own worries, especially once the calm and amiable grin came back as he raised his head.

A moment later, the quick message he'd sent to Leslie arrived for her, containing a single '.ides' file. Since she was still talking, he'd typed the accompanying message instead of talking to her directly:

"When they ask for a net address or location, give them this along with it. Any human diving directly, or navigator going in manually with the file should find it working as a form of master key for the hidden archive once they're at the right location." When the message arrived, he caught her eye and winked to accompany his small grin. The nice thing about Lyntael's .ides files was that it was very easy to make them self-disassembling. This particular one would disassociate into useless raw text data three clock hours after being transferred for the second time, one after the third and exponentially faster after that. With Leslie being the first transfer, no-one at SciLab would be able to retain the file itself, or trace his work.

He waited while she explained the situation, resisting the urge to wince at her choice of wording... though it was enough to think that she would probably have objected just as much, or more, to the way he would have described it.

The receptionist blinked a few times in silence as she tried to process what Leslie was saying. "I'm sorry, but we do not take crank calls." And with that the connection was broken. SciLab hung up on an Operator.
Leslie took a moment to blankly stare at PET, completely incredulous that she just got hung up on. And then...not so much staring, as glaring. "...That bitch! I can't believe she just blew me off like that!"

While she had notably flinched at the hang up, Martia didn't seem outwardly angry like her operator, and just shrugged. "Well, I can kinda see where she's coming from...even we'd probably find it hard to swallow if we didn't actually see it with our own eyes. I still think she dismissed you a little too quickly, though...maybe she's new or something and isn't jaded from weird stuff that was actually true?"

"It's still stupid, if you ask me." She closed her eyes, then opened the right one only and looked at Rogan. "Maybe you should call them after all. You can probably tell them about it without sounding like you're high or something." Seriously, even though she knew what she was saying probably seemed stupid, it was still true. It actually hurt a little that she'd been denied that bluntly...
As much as he had tried not wince visibly at Leslie's recount, his features did finally flicker for a moment at the click of the call being cut. He grinned and chuckled softly, with a slight duck of his head towards his friend, more to diffuse her ire than anything else. He arched his eyebrows, still grinning as he met her eyes, or rather eye.

"In fairness... the way you put it sounds more like something from comic a book or an airport paper-back. Let's see if I can't have any more luck..."

Still grinning wryly, he made the same call, though his features smoothed to seriousness again when the line picked up. Rogan didn't hesitate after he was greeted and spoke with a much more casual, relaxed tone than his friend had.

"Yes, good evening. A friend and I have come across an issue that we can't resolve, and it seemed SciLab direct was the best place to call. Let me explain the situation briefly, and perhaps you'll be able to connect me to whoever can best handle what we need..." From an external perspective for once, rather than being directly spoken to, it was much easier to notice the smooth intensity that seeped into his voice as he went on; calm and casual, but a practiced way of speaking that was easy to listen to, and hard to interrupt.

"My friend and I were doing some casual virus busting, but our navis have happened across another that appears unoperated and badly damaged, possibly unstable. Neither my friend or I have the means to repair or stabilise it, and by all accounts it is giving every sign of being in pain and highly distressed. Our navis are with it currently." He paused, giving a short sigh, before going on just as calmly. "Under normal circumstances, I would just drop by your front desk, of course; but with our navis looking after him for the time being, it doesn't seem to be an option for us to pull them out, or to leave them unsupervised until we can get further help. I need to speak to someone who can organise help retrieving this program and seeing that he receives the repairs he needs in a safe environment... but I fear time is of the essence."

Honesty was one thing, but how you told a person something was every bit as important as what you told them. As he waited for his call to be directed he glanced up to Leslie again and shrugged softly. He vaguely hoped she wouldn't resent him for stepping neatly around what she clearly felt was the most horrific and important part of the matter, but truthfully, doing so was far easier and more likely to get a result than spelling it out before-hand.
The peppy receptionist returned as Rogan called up SciLab, although this one's hair color was different. "Thank you for calling SciLab," she started in a similar chipper and professional voice. One of those artificial smiles gracing her face. "The global hub of Electopia's information technology! How may I direct your call?"

As Rogan explained the more believable situation the receptionist got a concerned look on her face. Clearly the suffering of another Navi was a heart-wrenching subject. "That is terrible! That poor, injured Navi. Please wait one moment while I direct your call to the Navi Retrieval Department."

The screen turned blank for a moment. The words {DIRECTING CALL TO NRD...} appeared on the screen. After a minute the screen displayed a man at a desk reading over a stack of papers. He looked up as the call came through, setting down a piece of paper. "Hello. I have recently been informed that you have in your possession an unoperated Navi that is injured and destabilizing. Is that correct? Well, if you will forward me the coordinates I will send a retrieval team. For your safety I suggest that you do not attempt to aid this Navi further or get in the way of the retrieval team when it arrives. Now, please forward the coordinates." A prompt for a set of coordinates displayed on Rogan's screen.
"Either way, it sounded completely ridiculous..." Leslie shook her head, but otherwise remained silent as Rogan placed the call. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he fared better with the front desk, as he avoided the more farfetched aspects of the situation. She looked down at her PET screen, only for her Navi to give her a wordless shrug. In a way, that was the only reaction she had to the whole thing, herself. He succeeded where she failed. That was all there was to it. And so, she resumed sitting back, though she made sure to give the Netopian sitting across from her a firm nod when he looked her way, showing that she was cool with what he'd done so far.

...Then again, at the same time, she couldn't help but feel kinda...in the way at the moment. Now that the fighting was done, Martia didn't need her, and Rogan had the call handled nicely. It was actually a little unsettling once she really started to think about it, causing her to very subtly flinch at herself. She definitely knew she was good for more than battle, but it'd be awfully hard to tell to someone just looking at this particular incident...