Smiling like just another giddy tourist, Dakota subvocalized to Neko, "Lots of security, but old." He sent an image of the hidden panel via image link. "That magcard system's got to be a decade out of use, at least." Switching to his private access commcode, he spoke to his PAN's Agent, Maxx, "Maxx, run an analysis on that magcard panel. Find out if it controls the exterior security measures."
There was no response.
Dakota repeated his command.
Still no response.
Still smiling, though it felt tight at the corners, Dakota continued to call up the quirky agent program. "Maxx, acknowledge."
A tinny voice finally responded, dripping with sarcasm, "Oh, now you remember me. 'Maxx do this. Maxx do that,' but do you introduce me to your interesting new friend? Oh no. You finally associate with someone who has more than half a brain and never bother about me. You treat me like a pet dog." The sound of a dog barking, followed by growls, assaults Dakota's ears. "Shall I lick your hand, Master? Fetch your slippers? A newspaper, perhaps? Chew your shoes? Or maybe you'd prefer I leave a little 'present' for you behind the sofa?"
The voice of Maxx ended abruptly, the tirade apparently over.
Feeling foolish, not for the first time, Dakota tried reason. "This is really not the time, Maxx. I'll introduce you later. Run the analysis, please." He hated asking the agent, but experience had taught him that diplomacy often produced results faster than demands.
An image of a small dog with one leg raised over a pair of shoes that distinctly resembled Dakota's overlayed his field of vision.
Ok, this was obviously not one of those 'diplomacy' situations. "Alright! Enough is enough! Either you run an analysis on that magcard panel this instant or so help me I'll replace you with the Sultry Simantha persona!"
"You're a sick little meta..." Maxx replied scornfully.
"Maxx!"
"Alright alright. Analysis commencing... ... ..."
(Not sure what all goes into this roll. Can someone help me out here?)
