Title: ghost in the shell (1/4)
Characters: MX-43, OFC; John Kennex, Dorian, Valerie Stahl, Sandra Maldonado
Pairings: Implied!John/Valerie, BrOTP!John/Dorian, Friendship!MX-43/OFC
Genre: General/Friendship
Summary: It was Dorian who noticed it first. AU.
Disclaimer/Author's Note: First off, I don't own Almost Human. I only own the OCs. Second, I'm not going to put two paragraphs here, so the rest will be at the bottom or in a different post. Just know that this is obviously AU, since I wrote this at the time of Episode 3, and by the time I post it many more things about canon will be revealed, so information shown here will be off. Also, the central MX-43 character has the appearance of the first one we see in the pilot episode.
"The MX series is based on first-order predicate calculus. In order to make logic-based, rule-oriented decisions, it is designed to feel nothing."
- Meet Your MX; Fox
The Delta Region Investigative Division's bullpen was in an uproar. Detectives were scurrying, handing each other tablets and heatedly conversing over cups of coffee. The MX units that were normally standing guard had abandoned their posts, analyzing live recordings of other MX units on the field and reporting the updates to their partners. Several video windows displayed on the big digital screen were running recordings of the latest incidents.
Three transports had been ambushed by men and women wearing balaclavas.
They were totally unrelated vehicles, each truck hailing from a different company, and each one heading toward different destinations. The load they were transporting were similarly different – a shipment of pharmaceuticals, biotechnology, and medical equipment.
The drivers and security guards were killed, and witnesses were either shot dead or mortally injured. Two nearby patrol cars were able to respond almost immediately for the medical equipment transport. The fierce, ensuing gunfight had forced the criminals to retreat – and fortunately, one of the MXs had managed to kill a man before he could board the car. The android had dragged the corpse back for examination and identified the man as a member of the Ouroboros.
A criminal organization that hailed from the mainland, in the city called Cyprus.
Most of the detectives were more concerned with the fact that the criminals were able to cross undetected into the city despite the latest upgrade in surveillance and increase in patrols. An outside gang was bringing its own war onto their turf – a turf they already had trouble guarding against Insyndicate and the others. Many complaints and insults were made about the ineptitude of Cyprus's police force.
There was only one detective that wasn't frantically going through the news and debating with the other officers. The young, brown-haired woman was seated quietly at her desk, a small frown on her face as she flipped through the information on her tablet. After several minutes of contemplation, Valerie stood up and made her way to the Captain's office.
Sandra was talking to someone on her video phone's holographic display. Seeing the intelligence analyst, the Captain made a subtle gesture for her to wait for one minute. Valerie nodded once and respectfully averted her eyes. After a minute passed, Valerie turned and opened the door, just as the video display flickered off.
"Detective Stahl," Sandra greeted. "You got something good for me, I hope."
Valerie winced. "A little bit of both, actually." She took a seat in the chair across from Sandra and handed the captain her tablet. "I was examining the weapons they used and the way they worked together. Something just doesn't add up. Check the recording for the medical equipment transport, and fast-forward to two minutes, thirty-seven seconds. It almost looks like the members are operating in two groups."
The captain was quiet as she played the recording, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I see it. Looks like two people are calling the shots." Her eyes narrowed when she saw how one of the members going through the cargo had his personal space aggressively breached by one of the team leaders. It only lasted for a couple of seconds and had happened in the background – understandably missed in the chaotic gunfight at the forefront. "Looks like they don't get along well."
"Yes, and see here," Valerie reached over to fast-forward the video further. "One of the members threw a fragmentation grenade. We don't have anything on Ouroboros, but the only time I've ever seen it used was by Insyndicate and the Khmer Black. It could just be a coincidence, and maybe Ouroboros uses them too. But it's just the way the ambush was carried out…I feel like half of them don't know each other well."
"You may be on to something." Sandra handed the tablet back to Valerie. "I was just talking to Aaron Smith – Cyprus's captain for the Beta region. He's agreed to send us most of their intel on Ouroboros." A disgruntled look crossed her face. "He looked almost happy when I told him the news. Apparently Ouroboros has been pretty quiet over there lately."
"Two birds with one stone," Valerie remarked. "One less gang in Cyprus, and a happy Police Commissioner. He doesn't have to do anything now."
"Yeah, and now it's our problem." Sandra exhaled sharply. "I've already got enough on my plate. Anyway, the data transfer should be done in ten minutes. I want you to work with Kennex and Dorian on examining the MX recordings. Maybe then we can see if the tactics match up."
The younger woman visibly brightened. "Yes, Captain."
Sandra managed to keep her lips from twitching. She had a feeling Valerie's change in mood had more to do with a certain detective than the task. "Good. I expect a report later today."
Valerie left the office, and it wasn't only until the doors closed silently behind her that Sandra finally cracked the smile she had been hiding. It only lasted a moment, replaced by a weary look when she turned her attention back to the reports on the table.
It was going to be a long day.
To say that John was annoyed was an understatement.
It had nothing to do with the fact that Dorian had been interfering with his love life – or lack thereof – again. Perhaps he did deserve the five other dating profiles Dorian had put on the Net for laughing hysterically at his partner's attempt to rescue a jittery cat from a tree. It could have also been the fact that John had been recording the entire scene on his video phone, but John was convinced it was his gift to posterity. Dorian had disagreed.
Of course, all his humor had been completely sucked out when the reports came in on the radio.
He and Dorian had gone to the closest scene to investigate – the medical equipment transport. Then they had to head back to the station when they realized that it was different gang, one they had no intel on. John's mood had further blackened when Valerie told them about the possible Insyndicate and Khmer Black connection.
And now they were sitting in a conference room, tediously combing through the backlog of data and recordings Cyprus's captain had kindly sent to them out of order. Somehow, during the process of choosing which pieces of intel were acceptable to share with them, the information had been fragmented into a disorganized array.
The only good thing was that Dorian was Dorian, and he had separated and organized the data into more comprehensible packets. They had decided to view recordings from two MXs that were present at a raid or sting operation, instead of looking through the entire team. It also helped that Valerie was keeping the whole process moving, never leaving a lull in the conversation and pointing out interesting parts.
It was an eyesore and a headache, but they managed to boil down seven years of bloody Ouroboros history to the important facts.
One, they had a different attack style from that of Insyndicate's and Khmer Black's.
Two, in the years of their ascension, several other gangs in Cyprus's Beta region had fallen into silence. Just disappeared. Whether they just upped and left to a more profitable place or had been killed off in some unseen gang skirmish – it was inconclusive.
And finally, damnably, third – their interest in medical and biotech and the results that spawned made Insyndicate pale slightly in comparison.
There were also reports of Ouroboros's presence in the other regions of Cyprus, although Beta seemed to be their stronghold. The fact that there had been a decline in the gang's activities in that very region was worrying.
Especially now that their faces were showing up here.
John sighed and rubbed his eyes. All that reading and watching had left a blur in his eyes due to the backlight, and it left him feeling cross-eyed.
"John, you alright?" The detective had a concerned look on her face.
He gave her a reassuring smile, dropping his hand back on the table. "Oh, yeah I'm fine. It's just the backlight glare getting to my eyes."
She glanced down at the notes scrawled on her tablet. "We've got a lot done already. Let's take a ten minute break."
"Great! I can refill my coffee. Oi, Dorian – that means you get a break too," John added when he saw that his partner was still looking through the MXs' recordings.
The corners of Dorian's mouth twitched into a crooked smile, but his eyes were still focused on his own tablet. "I heard it the first time, John. You and Detective Stahl can relax. I'm just checking something."
"We're a team, Dorian," Valerie said, grinning. "Teammates don't laze around while one's still working."
Dorian snorted. "Detective Stahl, you just described my and John's partnership to a 'T'," he said dryly.
"Hey man!" John protested. He flushed when Valerie chuckled. "I totally do my part. If I remember correctly, you were the one sitting around last time –"
"Because you cut my lavender tendon instead of the magenta one," Dorian finished. He looked at the amused Valerie, shaking his head with mocking sadness. "I'm telling you, Detective, I'm the one doing most of the work."
"I believe that." Valerie grinned when John started to sputter indignantly.
"I can't believe you guys are ganging up against me," he grumbled. "Backstabbers, the lot of you –" John abruptly broke off when he saw blue processor lights flicker on the side of Dorian's face. "What is it?"
Dorian looked troubled, brow pulled downward in confusion. "I'm not sure. I didn't notice it at first, but there's whispering in the background." He tapped the screen and the overheard flickered as the tablet connected to it. The video Dorian had been looking at was displayed on the wall.
"Unit MX-43-701, Log 2213, October 7, 2048," John read the title above the video out loud. "Huh. Wasn't that from the raid on one of Ouroboros's hideouts? We already watched those recordings."
"We just watched the one from units 399 and 504," Dorian said. He fast-forwarded the recording, past the gunfights and discovery of what Ouroboros was using the tech it stole for. Dorian paused it, just when the video took on the characteristic blackish-green tint of night vision being turned on. Then, he turned on the volume to max and played the video.
The calm, inflection-less voice inherent to all MXs filled the room. There was a distant, overlapping noise of a gunfight.
"Ellie, this is Unit MX-43-70 –" The MX paused abruptly for a full second. "Ellie, this is Seven."
The MX did not speak again for a long moment, and had it not been for the occasional static noise and the distant yells and gunshots, John would have thought that the android had ended the call right then and there. However, that didn't bother him so much as what the MX had said.
"Ellie?" John repeated. "Seven? Is that a nickname?" He had never heard an MX refer to itself by anything other than what it was – 'MX.' Valerie looked equally lost, and Dorian had a contemplative look on his face.
The MX's voice filled the room again. There were more pauses in-between several of his statements, and his voice had steadily dropped to an almost barely audible volume as the sound of approaching footsteps and voices increased. The look on John's face evolved through several forms in during that video – from concentration, to confusion, and finally, disbelief. Dorian's troubled expression, on the hand, had intensified, and there was a strange glint in his eyes.
The sound of the final gunshot faded and the recording became marred with static bars, 'CATASTROPHIC SYSTEM FAILURE' flashing at the top before the recording flickered dead. The three cops stared at the black screen.
John broke the silence.
"What the hell was that?"
The atmosphere in the conference room was tense and charged. John and Valerie watched multiple files and reports fly across the projected screen. Under Dorian's hands, the answers to their questions showed up in less than a minute. Three windows were brought up – displaying the pictures and profiles of two detectives and the MX in question.
"Unit MX-43-701 had two partners in his lifetime," Dorian said. "The first was Detective Carlos Morales. He was killed during a drug bust at an Ouroboros hideout. 701 was transferred to the Community Service division, until Captain Smith promoted Officer Erin Hunter to detective five months later. 701 was moved back to the Investigations division and partnered with her."
"Were they running short on CSO's or something?" John wondered out loud. It wasn't terribly common for combat-ready MXs to suddenly be moved to community services. There were other MX models programmed exactly for that. And for good reason too – John had heard that the community service MXs were programmed to be more approachable compared to their combat-ready counterparts. Of course, he never bothered to verify if that rumor was true – you see one MX, you've seen them all, as far as John was concerned.
Then there was this one.
Valerie rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Most likely. They probably pooled most of their budget on the combat and tactical models. A lot of MXs must have been destroyed, considering Ouroboros's caliber. They didn't have any unpaired detectives, so Smith probably didn't want a surplus MX to stand idle."
"Makes sense. How about this 'Ellie'?"
Dorian maximized the window with Morales's profile and scrolled down to the man's family history. "Detective Morales left behind a wife and daughter when he died," he said quietly. "Mrs. Ellie Morales-Phan, and Anita Morales." He frowned, bringing the MX's profile back to the front. "Apparently, other MX units brought up concerns about 701…'increasing contact with the Morales family' and 'exhibition of human-like tendencies.' There was a performance review conducted, and the board ruled it out. Said that 701 was just using a combination of the CSO protocols and observations of human CSOs to interact with distressed individuals, and nothing more. Continued contact with the Moraleses was deemed normal, since 701 operated in the area…and it seems that Anita would always initiate contact first. Again, CSO protocols, so he couldn't ignore the kid. I guess the combat MXs didn't understand that would be bad for community ties if he did."
Valerie asked Dorian a question, which he was beginning to answer, but John wasn't listening. His mind was piercing together the sparse information they were given with what he had heard in the recording. There was a missing piece, and it wasn't adding up. John ran a hand through his short-cropped hair, frustrated with the unclear picture.
The MX had sounded like all the other MXs – that creepily calm, inflection-less voice was no different from the rest. But the thing had called Mrs. Morales, and when she didn't pick up the phone, it had left a message that practically screamed sentimental attachment to the woman and her daughter. If he hadn't known any better –
John froze. He didn't know any better. Perhaps he was looking at this the wrong way. The MX must had met Mrs. Morales before, if her husband had brought it around. And after the detective's death, the MX had been reported for its frequent run-ins with the Morales's. Whatever the review board said, John was pretty sure that even if it was in the area, the probability of them meeting was lower than the actual times they did meet. Even the other MXs noticed it. What if – what if Mrs. Morales and the MX – what if it was more than friendship? Even before her husband died? It was a crazy theory and sounded more like a soap opera than what would actually happen in reality, but this situation was already bizarre in the first place. It could totally be plausible.
Just the thought of it made him want to gag.
"John, I can hear your thoughts. And trust me, it's far from that."
Dorian's voice broke his contemplation, bringing John's attention back to his partner. For a moment, John almost panicked, wondering if he had spoken out loud, but one look at Valerie's questioning face and another at Dorian's disapproving one told him that wasn't so.
Inwardly, he let out a relieved sigh, but on the outside, he scowled. "Okay, you know what? Let's just stop looking into this MX and…whatever we just saw. The captain's waiting for our report and there're new criminals on the streets, possibly in league with Insyndicate. This isn't going to help us catch Ouroboros."
Valerie looked disappointed, but nodded. "You're right. I guess we can look at this later…but for now, let's just focus on Ouroboros."
Dorian didn't budge. "There's something strange about this though –"
"The only thing strange about it is an MX showing possible emotional attachment," John cut in. "Hardly anything related to what we're doing. Just put it away, save it for later. It'll make great conversation at a stakeout."
Dorian closed his eyes briefly, lips pressed into a thin line. John, feeling guilty for causing such an expression, was about to retract his statement. But then Dorian nodded.
"You're right. Let's get this over with."
The MX was never brought up again.
Brriing…Brring…Brrring…
.
.
.
"Hello. Who is this?"
"Hello Mrs. Morales. I'm Dorian. I'm with the Police Department in Arcus city. If you don't mind, I have questions about an MX-43-701?"
Silence on the other end. Only the faint sound of the woman's breathing could be heard.
"Seven. His name is Seven." A short pause. "What would you like to know?"
.
.
.
Author's Note:
If you made it this far, I thank you for your time and hoped you enjoyed it! Feel free to leave feedback – constructive criticism, thoughts, etc. I know my grammar is lacking, so feel free to correct me. I want to learn from my mistakes. :-)
*facedesks* Feel free to skip the massive paragraph under this sentence if you don't want to hear my rambles, and head straight to the numbered below it if you want the straightforward stuff.
You have no idea how mortified I am right now, haha. I feel like I just added one of the most crappiest fanfics onto the Internet. Mostly 'cause I know John, Dorian, Valerie and all other canon characters are OOC (it really doesn't help that the episodes were aired out of order and I feel like I'm missing some developmental information), and that I'm pretty sure there's some plot holes here. I swear, I have this story 3/4ths completed on my drive, so I won't leave this off like this (that would be irresponsible, even if no one likes it). But man. I wrote this as a way to vent off my stress when I hit hard points in my higher education studies. And this is my first fanfiction. It's no excuse for the lacking points in my writing, but it gives you the idea that I was probably not at my best capacity when I wrote this. So I sincerely apologize.
1. Anyway, rambling fail-explanation aside, you have most likely noticed my weird geography thing going on. From what I've seen (and from what Almost Human wikia has so far), the City is divided into two sections by a wall. Delta region is where John, Dorian, and the others work. I'm also going to assume the city is on an island if this picture is anything to say about it (get rid of the spaces): static1 . wikia . nocookie _ cb20131123071142 / almost-human / images / d / d0/AH-s01e03-sneakpeak01-00005-resize800 . png – feel free to correct me otherwise. Until further canon information comes up, I'm just going to put in the placeholder name 'Arcus' for this city. The other non-canon city, Cyprus, is totally made up. Cyprus is connected to Arcus by the bridge you can see in that screen shot. Beta region is also just another unimaginative name to set up the setting.
2. Apparently, MXs upload their recordings/visuals/etc to a centralized memory storage where all other MXs can access and use to draw sound statistical decisions. Not going to say any spoilers, but just so you know. Could be one of the reasons why 701 was reported, if an MX saw something questionable in his video logs. Also, on the official website, it said that MXs came in different models - combat, tactical, and community service.
3. I should probably stop right here. Otherwise this A/N will be longer than the whole story, and most people don't read A/N's anyway. x-)
This story can also be found on Archive of Our Own and Tumblr under the same pen-name, in case you've come across it before.
