Been thinking about Pentapods and what is canonically known about them. I’ve been combing through all my sourcebooks, and what little is there seems pretty sketchy.
My vision of them is their skulls are sectioned, like an orange, with a unique brain in each of five partitions. Connecting these brains is a nerve bundle that functions a bit like the corpus callosum in the human cortex, linking the brain functions. But I imagine that, perhaps by design, this doesn’t work very efficiently in Pentapods, so the brain sections retain their characteristic functions somewhat in isolation. They must “negotiate” among these discrete brains to get things done, with very explicit C&C protocols and shortcuts for dire situations. I imagine Pentapods occasionally use their eyestalks to get the attention of particular brains, looking that brain’s eyestalk right in the eye. I imagine that, in normal times of non-stress, one of these brains is “asleep,” dormant, and each one cycles through a sleep interval in the Pentapod day. The Pentapod day is marked by ten such sleep cycles. It takes a little collective effort of the Pentapod brains to wake a slumbering brain. The whole never does sleep, and all five can operate awake.
If a brain section is damaged, bodily functions can be rerouted, like a human after a stroke. But the standard Pentapod response is to just deactivate the damaged model.
I don’t know how much of this is classic canon, but IIRC at least some of it is.
I imagine the ones manufactured for human interactions are programmed for a variety of languages, carefully selected to maximize their reach and utility (e.g, the eight most common human languages + Latin), and thus they make excellent translators. They have huge installed vocabularies, of which they use only a fraction in their own speech, and while being programmed not to be confused by metaphor are themselves strict literalists, incapable of pun or jest. You can joust with them linguistically. They understand. They do not joust back. Their humorlessness can be comical, even droll.
The first impression HR Pentapods make on humans is they seem very gifted and capable; when you hang out around them long enough, they seem immune to learning and experience. What seemed bright out of the box seems dull as the expiration date nears.
My thoughts are that the early Mk1 actually had a speaking mouth, which most humans found unsettling, so the Mk3 and later models have something a more like a stereo speaker diaphragm concealed by pleasantly colored membrane. Their voices inspire calm and confidence among humans, like a celebrity spokesperson or competent telephone operator. The HR model cycles a whole lot of very pleasant, relaxing subtle aromas, like cologne or roses. Their skin tones are like the most delightful candy.
I’ve added to the standard first contact narrative, which is that said contact didn’t exactly come off without consequence.
In 2251, the Pentapods delivered one cadaver and one living specimen to humans, who assumed the latter was an ambassador. The humans did likewise, providing their hosts with a cadaver and a xenobiologist as ambassador. Twenty-four hours later, the humans were still dithering about whether to autopsy the inactive Pentapod, when they learned that not only had the Pentapods cut up the corpse, they had also vivisectioned the xenobiologist. It was an innocent mistake, the Pentapods simply wanted to know how the organism functioned so its parts and functions could be speedily replicated. Took the humans a little while to get their heads around the fact that it wasn’t intended as attack or cruel insult. The Pentapods offered to make amends by producing a chemical map of the xenobiologist’s brain so that it might explain to his family what happened. On behalf of the family, the expedition leader politely declined this offer.
I like the story because it emphasizes the weird way Pentapods think, their utilitarian approach to scientific inquiry, their (non-malevolent) ignorance of standard ethics, and their fairly profound indifference to the distinctions of the individual. This is how I imagine they operate. A classic cautionary tale. And if players are sufficiently aware, they may come to resent how pleasant HR Pentapods appear, knowing that this is, in itself, a manipulation. But (seemingly) no harm is intended by it. The calculation is gift rather than deception.
Pentapods appreciate getting their HR models back when it is time to retire or deactivate them, as chemical maps can be made of their experiences, by which future models may be improved. Should humans not comply, no offense is registered. By the same symmetry, they register appreciation when presented with human cadavers. No offense is registered when this is declined.
I'd like to hear how others imagine this race.
My vision of them is their skulls are sectioned, like an orange, with a unique brain in each of five partitions. Connecting these brains is a nerve bundle that functions a bit like the corpus callosum in the human cortex, linking the brain functions. But I imagine that, perhaps by design, this doesn’t work very efficiently in Pentapods, so the brain sections retain their characteristic functions somewhat in isolation. They must “negotiate” among these discrete brains to get things done, with very explicit C&C protocols and shortcuts for dire situations. I imagine Pentapods occasionally use their eyestalks to get the attention of particular brains, looking that brain’s eyestalk right in the eye. I imagine that, in normal times of non-stress, one of these brains is “asleep,” dormant, and each one cycles through a sleep interval in the Pentapod day. The Pentapod day is marked by ten such sleep cycles. It takes a little collective effort of the Pentapod brains to wake a slumbering brain. The whole never does sleep, and all five can operate awake.
If a brain section is damaged, bodily functions can be rerouted, like a human after a stroke. But the standard Pentapod response is to just deactivate the damaged model.
I don’t know how much of this is classic canon, but IIRC at least some of it is.
I imagine the ones manufactured for human interactions are programmed for a variety of languages, carefully selected to maximize their reach and utility (e.g, the eight most common human languages + Latin), and thus they make excellent translators. They have huge installed vocabularies, of which they use only a fraction in their own speech, and while being programmed not to be confused by metaphor are themselves strict literalists, incapable of pun or jest. You can joust with them linguistically. They understand. They do not joust back. Their humorlessness can be comical, even droll.
The first impression HR Pentapods make on humans is they seem very gifted and capable; when you hang out around them long enough, they seem immune to learning and experience. What seemed bright out of the box seems dull as the expiration date nears.
My thoughts are that the early Mk1 actually had a speaking mouth, which most humans found unsettling, so the Mk3 and later models have something a more like a stereo speaker diaphragm concealed by pleasantly colored membrane. Their voices inspire calm and confidence among humans, like a celebrity spokesperson or competent telephone operator. The HR model cycles a whole lot of very pleasant, relaxing subtle aromas, like cologne or roses. Their skin tones are like the most delightful candy.
I’ve added to the standard first contact narrative, which is that said contact didn’t exactly come off without consequence.
In 2251, the Pentapods delivered one cadaver and one living specimen to humans, who assumed the latter was an ambassador. The humans did likewise, providing their hosts with a cadaver and a xenobiologist as ambassador. Twenty-four hours later, the humans were still dithering about whether to autopsy the inactive Pentapod, when they learned that not only had the Pentapods cut up the corpse, they had also vivisectioned the xenobiologist. It was an innocent mistake, the Pentapods simply wanted to know how the organism functioned so its parts and functions could be speedily replicated. Took the humans a little while to get their heads around the fact that it wasn’t intended as attack or cruel insult. The Pentapods offered to make amends by producing a chemical map of the xenobiologist’s brain so that it might explain to his family what happened. On behalf of the family, the expedition leader politely declined this offer.
I like the story because it emphasizes the weird way Pentapods think, their utilitarian approach to scientific inquiry, their (non-malevolent) ignorance of standard ethics, and their fairly profound indifference to the distinctions of the individual. This is how I imagine they operate. A classic cautionary tale. And if players are sufficiently aware, they may come to resent how pleasant HR Pentapods appear, knowing that this is, in itself, a manipulation. But (seemingly) no harm is intended by it. The calculation is gift rather than deception.
Pentapods appreciate getting their HR models back when it is time to retire or deactivate them, as chemical maps can be made of their experiences, by which future models may be improved. Should humans not comply, no offense is registered. By the same symmetry, they register appreciation when presented with human cadavers. No offense is registered when this is declined.
I'd like to hear how others imagine this race.
