>>5470005>Ask about the rest of the ship and if there are any more Sylithians you should know about“Oh, this is a <span class="mu-i">very</span> big ship,” Glimse says. “This is one of the Sylithians’ major prisoner internment shuttles, meant for long-term interstellar storage, and it’s quite unlikely that you’ll even find an airlock unless you’ve got me to lead the way. There are over 20 different sectors of varying size – we’re in Medium Security 12, which is one of the smaller ones. From my estimates of the ship’s blueprints, the nearest exit should be a few sectors down this hallway.”
“I should note that each sector has its own Sylithian warden, each of which builds and designs their own robots. This sector’s warden is a tough old battleaxe named Lynnan – her robots are numerous, wily, and very deadly. You’ve seen those blade-wielding enforcers, yes? Steer clear; those robots have no compunction against making mincemeat of an unruly prisoner.” Glimse mimes one of the blade enforcers chopping you up like an onion.
“Fortunately, I know their patrol routes and weaknesses… stick with me, alien, and you’ll make it out of here alive. I’ll share more details about the other wardens as we encounter them.”
>Ask whether all the robots share any weaknesses aside for EMPs.“Oh yes, I’m aware of several glaring weaknesses. For example, this sector’s robots rely exclusively on exterior sensors. Do you see those security cameras up there? Destroy them, and any robots in the room will be completely blind.”
“There is one exception. But don’t worry – I know how to handle it. Trust me.”
>>5470126>Ask him if he knows the meaning of personal space and why he insists of being all over us like some sort of noodle“Oh, your species believes in personal space? Why, I’m very sorry. In my culture, this is simply our way of showing gratitude and respect.”
You notice he doesn’t uncurl himself from you.
>>5470402>Ask the Princess how she knows the edgehog's chip is real and worksSchallaya huffs. “If you MUST know, peon, I lifted that chip directly from the cognitive core of the primary servitor myself. So it is MINE, and MY chip alone, so I know FOR A FACT that it can break its way into ANY door on this ship. Got it?”
“Well, it <span class="mu-i">would</span> be hers,” Phom jeers, “if she hadn’t lost it in a game of space poker.”
“And that’s because YOU ARE A FILTHY CHEATING SLIME!” the princess screams.
What do?
>Ask about more stuff>Head back into the workshop>Release the other two aliens>Something else? 