Barely even moving, Jim blinks rapidly. Well, this is barely a space colony. There is a definite open sky above him. A small breeze on the air. Sensors indicate that most of the area is dense crust. This is a planet. There are skyscrapers, and there are shops. Jim is not on the colony any more. After a few more blinks, his hand travels up to his face and he rubs his cheek. Perplexed.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck." the cyborg completes a full circle, his tail wrapping around his right foot in anxiety. He almost runs into Cole, who is just as flabbergasted. Speaking of Cole, the little chatbox is blinking rapidly in the corner of Jim's vision. Absentminded and still scanning the area, Jim opens the messages.
C-013: What is this? Where are we? Too many inquiries. Dr. Watkins. There are people here. There are no datapoints or POI within range. Cannot contact OSC: Celest. Dr. Watkins.
C-013: Dr. Watkins. What are you doing? Stop standing there like an oaf. Do something! Oh this is going to be grand.
C-013: Dr. Watkins, you are overusing the long-range sensors. Did you forget that you just left the battlefield? You haven't the battery for this.
C-013: DR. WATKINS. YOU NEED TO CHARGE. YOU NIMROD.
Jim's eyes dim as he completes his sweep. His eyes directly over the scan of the building that says Jo's Chop Shop. The equipment inside should be enough to make a charging cable. What. You didn't think he was ahead of the little drone did you? A few steps ahead, this one. Cole hasn't a lick of faith. Oh. The ground is closer than he thought. Catching himself on one knee, Jim looks around. He can't trust the Drone to help him, he has just as much charge and the anti-grav generator will suck out his reserves quicker.
"It'd be nice, if there was someone to help." He says it just a bit loud enough for the people on the sidewalk to hear, most of them ignoring him. The rest just look confused at him and go on their way. He sighs dramatically and groans.
"Fine. Manual override. Cole, shut up and push me." Jim's joints lock up, becoming stiff and moving slowly. Low power mode is definitely a problem. But at least the drone can keep him balanced. Cole, albeit begrudgingly, unsheathes his servos and grabs onto the cyborg's shoulders, keeping the swaying manchild from tipping over as the not-so-fluid movements jar each step.
C-013: Dr. Watkins. Language. There are children.