"Deal," Connor agreed with a nod. He could read his new partner's sincerity in his words, tone, and body language. He was grateful for it . . . and struck with some amusement at how this partnership was getting off on a foot far different than his less-than-stellar start with Hank.
He nodded again at the rest. "I was programmed to hunt deviants. Specifically deviant androids, but ultimately deviants and criminals of all kinds. His money and his contacts will only get him so far. If he uses any kind of online or signal-based forms of communication to coordinate with his cohorts and backers, I should be able to track down a lead."
He let his expression soften, understanding that Steve was worried for him. "For what it's worth, androids don't feel pain and cannot be forced to talk short of a memory probe. I'll be okay."
"...androids don't feel pain..." That was, in reality, only mostly true. Connor possessed the memories of the RK800 unit before him. When his predecessor has been shot across the outside of its arm, he knew it had registered the damage but had felt no pain. As was expected. But when he'd been jumped by the deviant in the abandoned apartment under Urban Farms, it had managed to jar him enough to actually disorient him for an instant. The dents and abrasions he got from fighting the Tracis behind Eden Club had registered for sure. Getting shot on the rooftop of the Stratford Tower, though? He didn't know how else to describe it - that had hurt.
Still . . . he was an android, the most advanced prototype CyberLife had ever created. He had failed his last mission. He wouldn't fail this one.
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He nodded again at the rest. "I was programmed to hunt deviants. Specifically deviant androids, but ultimately deviants and criminals of all kinds. His money and his contacts will only get him so far. If he uses any kind of online or signal-based forms of communication to coordinate with his cohorts and backers, I should be able to track down a lead."
He let his expression soften, understanding that Steve was worried for him. "For what it's worth, androids don't feel pain and cannot be forced to talk short of a memory probe. I'll be okay."
"...androids don't feel pain..." That was, in reality, only mostly true. Connor possessed the memories of the RK800 unit before him. When his predecessor has been shot across the outside of its arm, he knew it had registered the damage but had felt no pain. As was expected. But when he'd been jumped by the deviant in the abandoned apartment under Urban Farms, it had managed to jar him enough to actually disorient him for an instant. The dents and abrasions he got from fighting the Tracis behind Eden Club had registered for sure. Getting shot on the rooftop of the Stratford Tower, though? He didn't know how else to describe it - that had hurt.
Still . . . he was an android, the most advanced prototype CyberLife had ever created. He had failed his last mission. He wouldn't fail this one.