[Flynn is sitting at a desk, not paying attention to the camera. Floating in the air in front of him are the usual forest of holographic displays, and a
light blue geometric solid (first stellation of the icosidodecahedron, if you were curious.)]
Diagnostics all clean?
[The floating shape turns into an
orange octahedron and answers him in a mechanical voice that somehow manages to sound cheerful.]
Yes.
Heh. Good.
Yes.
[Something catches Flynn's eye and he looks at one of the readouts.]
Wait, you just set everything you had permissions for to true?
Yes, yes, yes, yes!
Bit...
[Flynn looks at the camera.]
Sorry about that, folks.
[He makes an exasperated gesture and the feed cuts off.]