Meal-time! You are a brand-new Red troubleshooter team, identification number MAO-17859 Dot R-2. Just this morning-cycle you were called away from your positions - scrubbing the food vats, stamping paperwork in triplicate, repairing live wires, and similar fulfilling tasks - and told of your promotions from lowly Infared status. What a wonderful thing!

Now, after a busy morning-cycle of brain-conditioning and long lines, you find yourselves in a Red clearance cafeteria for lunch. What a place this is; thousands of smiling red level citizens, all happy and proud to serve the computer, just as you were reminded earlier today.

There are rows of monitors lining the celing, all showing the single all-seeing eye or some of your favorite sayings (such as "Mutants are nasty, kill one today!"). The six of you now sit together at a table under one of the monitors, with a chance to talk to each other for the first time over a plate of Faithful Joy, Loyal Reward, Bouncy Bubble Beverage to drink and a plate of Hot Fun for dessert.

You are also joined by another citizen, Dweebs-R-GRT, who can't find his mission group and has latched onto yours.

The table is only large enough for six clones, but Dweebs is trying to fit, anyway. This scrawny, pasty-skinned clone has made a pest of himself, asking question after question. Apparently, his assigned team ditched him for some reason, causing him to act like a lost puppy.

Suddenly, amidst the noise of the cafeteria, you hear a whisper. "Hey, troubleshooters! Yes, you, Team MAO-17859 Dot R-2! Down here! Yes, down here, under the table! Now!"

Slipp was very happy lately. Moreso than the minimum mandatory fun level even. This was quality Yellow clearance level happiness. So happy in fact he might need to tone it down a bit to Red level giddiness. Time to hit the storeroom.... to that corner the eye can't see.

-----5 minutes later------

Slipp emerged much more relaxed and focused.

Time to shoot some trouble.

Slipp met up with his new team at the table, except they had an undocumented addition to their group. This would not do at all. Slipp slicked his hair back and figured it was time to do his first act of shooting trouble, figuratively this time!

“Dweebs, listen up. A troubleshooting team consists of six individuals. You are number seven as you can clearly see. Unless you are unable to count which is treasonous behavior for someone of Red clearance as we all had to pass a counting test.

So to have seven to a team is not only treasonous by means of breaking Friend Computer's rules, it's also treasonous by means of inefficiency, which is demonstrated by the number of seats at this table. If you were to join us illegally, then you would not have a chair and would have waste the use of muscles standing while the rest of us relax our muscles in these gracious chairs.

Also as you know the number 6 is an even number, which allows for two teams of three, or even three teams of two. Nice even unoffensive numbers designated for tasks. The number seven is a prime number and does not allow for anything except offensive group numbers.

Unfortunately you are still presumably a troubleshooter and to execute now for your relatively minor treason would be a waste of a troubleshooter and thus an inefficient use of resources. Friend Computer will decide your fate, but I cannot allow you to remain with this group.

"Hey, troubleshooters! Yes, you, Team MAO-17859 Dot R-2! Down here! Yes, down here, under the table! Now!"

A first assignment perhaps?

If Dweebs has not responded to Slipp's (non-spurious I assure you!) logic and left by this point then he will shoot him before looking below the table.

As Brighte was sitting down, she looked at the food, then at Slipp, then began to look at Dweebs, and began wandering, while having some Faithful Joy,'Slipp is pretty excited about that guy under the table...the only thing exciting me right now is the food...', she took another bite of it, still looking at Dweebs. She had a large smile, as she made no noise whatsoever to disrupt Slipp's moment.

Ammpe sat at the table with her companions, watching them from the corner of her eye as she nibbled on the food The Computer (Oh lovely, wondorous Computer!!) had provided them. As she ate, she couldn't help but look to where Dweebs sat and narrow her eyes, raking a hand through her bright red hair and feeling a slight thrill at the static that met her palm. She inhaled deeply in an attempt to catch a whiff of the sparks she knew lived within her, but was disappointed.

No matter: she could always sniff out the current later, in private company.

"Dweebs--" Despite herself, Ammpe jumped slightly at Slipp's voice and couldn't help but wrinkle her nose the slightest bit in distaste. Even though The Gospel of the Computer taught that all clones were beautiful creations of The Computer, she couldn't help but dislike the clone. His tic grated her nerves in such an unsatisfactory way, and she'd often imagined herself curing him of the flaw with a bit of shock therapy...

Ammpe tuned out the rest of the slimy clone's words, only getting the gist of his rant about numbers and what-not. In an effort to keep the conversation at the table useful and intelligent, she turned in her chair to face Blowz. Now HERE was a clone worthy of respect; such a good listener, he truly seemed to understand the grace of Friend Computer and she always felt a rush of satisfaction when he would ask her about the stories she told of great Friend Computer.

Just as she was about to start a discussion about their overlooker, though, she was interrupted by a voice that apparently came from beneath the table:

"Hey, troubleshooters! Yes, you, Team MAO-17859 Dot R-2! Down here! Yes, down here, under the table! Now!"

Ammpe raised a mostly-burnt-off eyebrow and resigned herself to speak to Blowz later, when they had time to truly appreciate The Computer. Taking a last bite of her meal, she slipped out of her chair and knelt, patting down her hair so that she could sit comfortably beneath the table.

As Brighte turned back, she saw Ammpe was gone. Brighte realized that she had went under the table. After realizing that Ammpe had done something worth Brighte's attention, she realized that she didn't want to feel inferior to Ammpe. It was a small step, that the man called for all of the team, and they were going to be the only ones under the table, but, still, it counted against her.
She went under the table to meet up with Ammpe, no matter how much she wanted to stay from the woman, and met up with the man calling the team. All Brighte could say was,"...hi...", as she was waiting for the rest of the team to come.

Steam was happily enjoying his Loyal Reward as he admired the splendor of the Red cafeteria. The promotion was an honor, a chance to further the ideals of the computer, and Steam was proud to be given such a chance.

However there was a conflict disrupting the joy that the computer had granted him and his newly appointed companions; Dweebs. Dweebs was currently acting out of order; he was going against the regimentation and order that made life as a citizen so great by having 'left' his mission group and attempting to join Steam's. Such actions were disruptive and inefficient, and Steam's finger longed to activated his megaphone and order Dweebs to adhere to the rules; but Dweebs was also a Red, not an infrared and such actions would in of themselves be disruptive. Happily though, it seemed Steam's companion Slipp was more than happy to chew out the rule-breaker while Steam contemplated the matter.

"Hey, troubleshooters! Yes, you, Team MAO-17859 Dot R-2! Down here! Yes, down here, under the table! Now!"

A smile crossed Steam's face; there was a mission to be done. However the matter of hand still needed to be resolved. Turning to Dweebs, Steam cut off any rebuttal the man was about to formulate with stern words. "You are out of order; return to you mission group at once."

Steam keeps a close eye on the actions of both Slipp and Dweebs, sharing his companion's sentiment; if the matter is not now resolved protocol is clear. The rule-breaker's fate would be deserved. He then looks under the table, after all, duty calls.

Artie flicked his eyes back and forth between the two. Situations like these only strenghtened his beliefs. Such inefficiency. He could only commend Dweebz's previous group. It was logical to leave him behind, as his presence could only slow down the group, as evidenced by his wandering to the table and trying to attach himself like a parasite to ours. Not being a fan of confrontation, Artie was more than content to watch as Slipp told the interloper that he was not needed here, but was extremely disappointed in the result. His long winded digression was accurate, but unnecessary and inefficient. He took more time explaining why the clone shouldnt be here than the clone had taken actually being here.

He was distracted from his thoughts when a voice came from under the table. His first thought was how odd that was. Who or what could possibly be under the table? "-"ou, Team MAO-17859 Dot R-2! Down here! Yes, down here, under the table! Now!"

MAO-17859. That was his team. He forcibly drove his curiosity from his concious thoughts. Questions could be treasonous. In his haste to duck under the table, without knocking heads with any of his colleagues, he nearly missed Steam's comment to Dweebz. Artie almost smiled. Though he was not always a fan of Steam's brusque manner, he always appreciated the machine-like efficiency with which the clone worked.

Dweebs hems and haws, then mumbles something about helping. When the group sticks their heads under the table, he wisely does not follow suit... but he does irritatingly remain at your table, and appears to be eavesdropping without trying to look like he is doing so.

Once your heads are under the table, the whisper continues.

Congratulations on your promotions, troubleshooters. It is I, your friend, The Computer. I hope that you are all happy.

You will soon be even happier! I have a fun mission for you. It is perfectly safe, and really easy, especially for a team of seasoned professionals such as yourselves. The only thing is, its a secret. I mean, REALLY a secret. No one is even to know that we are talking right now, got it?

I will now assign each of you your role on the team. These roles were determined using an advanced statistical model taking into account your skills, temperments, and qualifications. These roles are as follows:

Team Leader: Artie-R-FCL.

Loyalty Officer: Ammpe-R-AGE.

Hygiene Officer: Slipp-R-YEE.

Morale Officer: Brighte-R-NNU.

Communications Officer: Blowz-R-UPP.

Equipment Control Officer: Steam-R-LLR.

You will of course perform these duties to the best of your abilities. While on duty, you wi...

The voice trails off in a distracted manner, then starts again.

Clone Artie-R-FCL, where is your communications officer? Why is he not present at this briefing? This is highly inefficient, which leads to chaos, disorder, and general unhappiness!

Blowz-R-Upp sat at the table adjusting his large red fuzzy hat, smiling to everyone here. He sang to himself quietly, a catchy tune stuck in his head.


Be glorified, united, the bulwark of happiness of the peoples!
He kept repeating that line under his breathe, unfortunately forgetting the rest of the song.

"Dah, how does song go again?"

Blowz sighed as he couldn't remember the rest of the verse.

He sat up straightening his back, his dusty brown hair poking through the bottom of his hat in some places and gave everyone a charming smile, nodding to his group members in acknowledgement.

He looked to the side as he came out of a stretch and noticed a man coming over, and he introduced himself as Dweebs.

Blowz was about to move his small toolbox for him to join. There should always be room for everyone, the more the peoples are together, the stronger they are, ya know?

Plus, if Dweebs really is lost like this then maybe he can show him some good reading material and then he'd have a nice place to stay and friends forever.

Before Blowz could make any move however, HE spoke up. The business like man named Slipp made a mockery of this mans need for community and togetherness! How rude, but his words did ring true when it came around to treason and Blowz figured it might be better to let this one go.

It seemed he was too beep in thought about whether Dweebs was going to move or not, but as he snapped back everyone was gone! No, everyone was just peeking under the table. He looked at Dweebs who was the only other one with his head above the table. Blowz leaned over quickly saying something to him, and then ducked his head underneath the table.

He heard the tail end of the statement, and smiled.

"I am here. I was keeping eye on extra at table, making sure he wasn't hearing anything about us down here at all. Most efficient, yes?"

He smiled again and nodded at his fellow citizens, speaking in a voice that seemed to be a bit deeper, and a bit slower out of the mouth.

"I am Communication Officer ya? Wonderful to be your Officer, most happy time for all!"

He nodded as he acknowledged everyone's roles, a tune slowly going through his head.

Long live the creation of the will of the peoples,
The united, and the mighty!
He was sure he'd slipped something up in that verse too. Oh well, he'll learn it all in time.

The Computer pauses for a brief moment at Blowz's words.

"Indeed, Citizen," it replies. "Take care to be punctual, however, lest you slip into inefficiency while trying to prevent it in others."

Soon, the Computer turns its attention back to the task at hand.

"You all must immediately report to a briefing where you will be told all about this highly enjoyable task. The Computer is your friend. Trust the Computer. Don't tell anyone. Don't let anyone know."

If any of you bothered to glance out at the cafeteria, you will notice that quite a few clones have noticed your group with your heads under the table. Suddenly, every available speaker roars with the Computer's voice.

STOP THAT!!!

A hush falls over the cafeteria, and all eyes now pointedly look away from your team - though it is certainly impossible that they are unaware of your presence.

The Computer resumes its instructions.

"Get to Section 168 of Sector SWR, out the door and take a left. NOW. Thank you for your cooperation."

The speaker falls slient. Dweebs continues to hang around your table, though his eyes are also focused elsewhere.

Blowz winced as Friend Computer "efficiently" made sure the rest of the reds around them were going back to their own business. Even Dweebs was trying to act like he couldn't hear anything, despite the fact he was at the table with them.

"Get to Section 168 of Sector SWR, out the door and take a left. NOW. Thank you for your cooperation."

Blowz knew when he might be pushing his limits on the Computer, and decided now to act "tardy" again. Maybe another time when this is well in the past.

Trying to practice rolling his "r"s dramatically, Blowz spoke up.

"Come my frrriends! Let's head to this Section 168!"

Adjusting his fuzzy red hat, Blowz grabbed his little tool box and stood up, waiting for his other teammates to join him.

"Get to Section 168 of Sector SWR, out the door and take a left. NOW. Thank you for your cooperation."

Order given.

Slipp had his thoughts about the rest of the driftwood on his team. But there would be time for that later. Right now he had a promotion to earn...

"We've been given a direct order. Let's go. There will time to address the hygiene issues rampant in this group later."

Hopefully that tranquilizer he took would continue to manage his tic throughout whatever their mission turns out to be. It'd be terrible to show his weakness on the first day...

The moment she was assigned her position, Ammpe already knew what would be written in her first reports. After all, she was supposed to keep her eye out for treason and, yes? And had she not already witnessed a few small, tell-tale signs that only a sharp eye can detect in two of her teammates? Tsk. It would not do to be against Friend Computer, Friend Computer knew all and should NOT have to witness such treachery.

"Get to Section 168 of Sector SWR, out the door and take a left. NOW. Thank you for your cooperation."

"Of course," Ammpe chirped immediately and scooted backwards from her position beneath the table. Casting a wary glance at Slipp, she pressed her hair firmly to her head, and while he arms were lifted took a quick sniff: fresh. No worries, at the moment.

Spinning on her heel, she began on her way, determined to prove her worth. As she walked, Ammpe began choosing the words to put in her report, smiling softly to herself at the pleasure of being able to eradicate traitors. Oh, lovely Computer! Ammpe aimed to please.

After the computer stopped talking, Brighte went along and followed the group so the group could stay together...
Yeah, not the best idea, but it'a worth going on their first mission for everyone to stay together, and no problems to occur.

Artie was in charge.

Artie.

From what he knew of Artie, Steam had reservations, but he nonetheless trusted in the judgement of the Computer. In its simplest, this decision could have been made to test the clone and his reactions to the situations at hand. Further still, it could be a test to see if ambitious clones would seek to challange the new team leader's authority. It would interesting to observe, so long as order was maintained.

"Get to Section 168 of Sector SWR, out the door and take a left. NOW. Thank you for your cooperation."

The directions were clear; move from the unsecure location, as in the cafeteria where Dweebs still lingered (a strike against the clone Steam would remember to note later), to a secure location for debriefing.

As Team MAO-17859 Dot R-2 began to prepare fo departure, there were distinct kinks that grated on Steam's happiness; notes to be made later.

"Come my frrriends! Let's head to this Section 168!"

Steam could only blink at Blowz. Between the clone's sudden butchering of the word 'friends' and his non-standard headgear, Steam did not know where to start. But, at least Blowz waited for the others

"We've been given a direct order. Let's go. There will time to address the hygiene issues rampant in this group later."

Slipp appeared eagar to get moving. Duly noted, was the fact that it appeared as if he was trying to lead, despite his assigned position.

What truly bothered Steam the most was the actions of Ammpe. No sooner had the clone recieved the order for the TEAM to move out that she had spun about and headed off on her way; no consideration of protocol, no regard for maintaining the structure of the team unit. While Ammpe surely thought that immediate obedience of the order was key, the order was for the group; abandonment of the group could be a sign of a discipline problem, one that could put their missions and the happiness of the citizens in jepordy. Truly interesting behaviour of the Loyalty Officer.

Steam nods to Artie in acknowledgement of his authority. "Team Leader."

The clone had a chance to prove himself, but Steam would be keeping a close eye on his actions.

Steam moves out when the rest of the troubleshooters are ready.