*Reads new parts* Very well done! Aww, and I'm in in too. Thank you. :3 It's funny how you cast sweets as older than me. XD That should make very interesting dynamics. Once again, good job!
Thank you! You’re welcome! What, is she not? I don’t know anyone’s ages on here, but I can roughly guess Con’s. (Given the fact that he’s in college now, i’d say...roughly 19-21. Somewhere in that range.) I mean, i know Ultraagent13’s not a little kid, but I cast him as one, to explain the nickname of Agent Ultra (no offense ultra, your name rocks!) XD Besides, in the story Sweet’s probably gonna be...ehhh...some where around the 25-30 range. XD Once again, thank you!
Nah, but it's no biggie. At least on my part. She closer to your age.
Thank you! You’re welcome! What, is she not? I don’t know anyone’s ages on here, but I can roughly guess Con’s. (Given the fact that he’s in college now, i’d say...roughly 19-21. Somewhere in that range.) I mean, i know Ultraagent13’s not a little kid, but I cast him as one, to explain the nickname of Agent Ultra (no offense ultra, your name rocks!) XD Besides, in the story Sweet’s probably gonna be...ehhh...some where around the 25-30 range. XD Once again, thank you!
Nah, but it's no biggie. At least on my part. She closer to your age.
N-81 followed behind the boy, lumbering past trees and crushing ferns underfoot. Standing at seven and a half feet tall, he found himself having to duck under most tree branches.
“So…” started N-81, trying to make conversation, “what is your designation?”
“You know, you should really practice acting human a little more often. For a robot who is supposed to pass for human, at least that’s what I know an android to be, you aren’t very good at it.” the boy said absent minded.
“Apologies.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. It’s just in your wires.” The boy paused. “I’m Conner. Most just call me Con for short.”
“Affirmative. Locating file…” N-81 paused, recalling his previous experience with Essa. “Uh…may I?”
“Go right ahead.”
“Subject identity: Connor Hanson. Known by friends as “Con”, “Conner the Great”, and/or “The Great Con”. Age 20. Male. No criminal record on file. No outstanding warrants on file. Wait…one item appears here. Arrested for…assault? Please explain.”
“The other guy started it. He said some bad things about my family. I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. The judge dismissed it and gave us both fines for public disturbance. Continue.”
“Affirmative. Clearing record. Known family members: mother, father, brother, two sisters. All biologically related. No previous record of experience with space travel. Rated high in the survival tests. In good health, considered to be higher than average in fitness rating. Classification: Overqualified for Colony Mission. There is more on file, shall I continue?”
“Nah, it’s fine.” N-81 now studied the survival axe in his hand. A Federation issue multitool that could act as a hatchet and a hammer.
“Went rummaging through the storage bay and found a box full of survival kits. Just grabbed one,” he said, as if it were no big deal.
“It is against Federation regulation to enter the storage bay without Captain consent. The FF prohibits all-“ N-81 started.
“Well, the FF aren’t here are they? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re on a planet in the middle of unexplored space. Yeah, I read the Star Charts. The Federation has no jurisdiction in this sector.”
“But…this is theft of Federation Property!” N-81 protested.
“What are you gonna do? Arrest me? You’re an engineering droid, not an Enforcement Mech!” Con said arrogantly. N-81 reluctantly conceded to the fact. He was right, after all, N-81 was no policeman. “This one looks good.” Con said, stopping at a short tree about one and half feet in diameter. “Gimme that axe back.”
“What is your purpose in gathering wood?” N-81 inquired, handing over the tool.
“You crazy? To build a fire, to build shelters. Do you know nothing about survival?” Con responded, shocked.
“I am programmed with the knowledge of over 700 survival techniques fit for over 25 trillion different survival situations,” N-81 informed, almost indignantly. . Con just stared.
“Couldn’t have just said something normal? Like…I don’t know…boy scouts? Or maybe camping?”
“Boy scouts and camping combined only prepare one for approximately 1,298 survival scenarios.”
“Isn’t there a human saying? ‘Bigger is better’? Or am I incorrect in-“
“Yes, it’s a saying! Who cares?! Are you gonna help or did I waste my time bringing you here?”
“Would not that tree be better suited for our purposes?” N-81 asked, pointing a metal finger to a larger tree, easily three feet in diameter.
“That’s way too big. It would take too long to cut through.” Upon this statement, N-81 held up his hand. The hand folded and retracted into his arm with a soft whirring of gears. Immediately after, the arm popped open and a circular buzz saw, originally designed to cut through ion-steel plates, folded out in front of the arm socket, out of which a new appendage sprung and latched onto the saw motors on either side of the blades with a whir and a click. The arm closed back up and the saw began to spin, letting off a soft whine. Con stood agape. “You mean to tell me that you had that the entire hour we’ve just spent wandering through the woods?!”
“Yes. It is attached to me, how could I have not had it?” N-81 inquired, unable to find the reasoning in the question.
“And of course you just had to tell me now!” Con snapped sarcastically.
“Yes. I thought that would have been clear by my informing you.”
“It was sarcasm, bolt brain!”
“I do not understand. What is ‘sarcasm’? And my brain is technically an AI loaded onto a motherboard, for your information.”
“Why do I bother wasting perfectly good expressions around an android who’s just gonna ruin them?”
“It is not my intent to-“
“Just…less talking more cutting, ok?”
“Affirmative.” N-81 stepped over to the larger tree and dug his saw into it. Sawdust polluted the air, momentarily obscuring vision.
Thank you! 
)
TOOOTALLYYYYY... 