Alright, here the "sequel" to, Nobody Loves You Like Me. If you haven't read it prior to this, it's worth giving it a glance to understand this one.
Sheldon is going to be almost completely OC and will have a notable difference between the canon in this chapter.
Let's get started.
03/04/14: A few grammar corrections, and added title for Part 1.
Who Made Who?
Part 1: The Death Of What Used To Be
Chapter 1: Always The Moon
"Before there ever was a you and me,
The endless void of a dark, black sea
And a giant oyster, the mother of all things
And the oyster made a pearl
And the pearl became the world
And the world began to turn
And the sun began to burn
And then one day I met you and then fell in love
And you broke my tender heart
And so here we are
But there was always the moon
There was always the moon
There was always the moon
There was always the moon"
- Jonathan Coulton
[][][]
The scratching of the pen proved strong enough to further his headache, causing it to fluctuate between nuisance and full blown migraine.
"Inspection shows an accumulative damage in the area of 94%, as shown by the attached paperwork," he mumbled as he filled out the form he'd printed.
Pausing to sigh and rub his tired eyes, Sheldon continued, "Main control board, 49% damaged. Thrusters, 77% damaged. Exterior shell and all limbs, 54% damaged. Will require an estimated fifty hours of labor to repair. Course of action…"
He looked across the clean and organized garage to where the Silver Shell stood among the lawnmowers and yard tools, a smile frozen on it's face despite the battered and twisted remains of it's body.
"Immediate decommission, salvaging all useable resources for parts."
Adding the papers into a file, he stacked it onto the large pile with the other decommissioned inventions in the XJ class of upgrades designed to lessen the weaknesses of XJ-9. It seemed a waste to destroy them, but Jenny made it clear that she had no interest in taking them.
"Next on the list," he said as he grabbed the military surplus bag from the workbench.
Opening the flaps, he removed the gas mask along with the filters and set the bag aside. Slipping on the mask, he attached the filters and carried his bloody and possibly contaminated clothes to his forge. Accustomed to the burst of heat, he opened the grate and tossed his clothes in, taking a moment to run his hands over the fabric of his favorite jacket one last time. He watched them crackle and smolder before he closed the grate.
The clock on the wall did nothing to ease his fevered mind, but only reminded him of all the work he had left to do.
'Now I have to clean out the workshop, which means I'll need to clear a path for the truck since I can't take the Shell,' he thought, skimming the list he had mentally created, 'Then I need to go to the mall and get a new jacket. I'll do that around three-thirty.'
He picked up the military bag and walked to the shelf of lawn care tools his dad hung years ago. Returning the mask to the bag, he hung it beside the pruning shears and carefully removed the chainsaw.
Checking the oil and fuel, he walked toward the door leading to the back yard, stopping to glance at the laser pen on top of the pile of gadgets, remembering how easily it cuts through even the toughest of metals.
Looking to the chainsaw in his hand, he sadly focuses on the ground and steps outside.
[][][]
Mrs. Wakeman was already impressed.
She began reviewing the data Sheldon retrieved from the Ganymedian ship while the machines worked on repairing Jenny, and ten minutes in proved that she would be busy for the next month, at least.
Weapons logs, battle tactics, training manuals, current experiments, almost the entire collected knowledge of their empire. Available to her with only a few strokes of her keyboard.
Before she could continue, the screen went black and became unresponsive.
"What now?"
No matter the combination she attempted, they all received the same result. Nothing.
Suddenly, a new window opened and filled with the image of a man sitting behind a desk in an oddly shaped chair. His face appeared to be that of a hardened, middle aged man. His head wore black and shaggy hair, complete with a thick beard and several scars about his face.
"Hello, Nora."
Folding her arms, she leaned back, "Dr. Wakeman will do, Mr. Hughes."
"Oh come on," he said, stretching his arms out while letting the corners of his mouth curl into a smile, "After everything we've been through, it's still Dr. Wakemen?"
"Yes, it is."
Sighing, he leaned forward and wove his fingers together, "I assume you know the reason I'm contacting you."
"Maybe it's something to do with the ship we've destroyed," she answered sternly, "Or maybe, is it the fact I know you had the FEV container on an W-Class ship?"
"Those are both among the list," he said, glancing at a monitor to the side of him.
He looked back, his tone becoming softer and more sincere, "How's our daughter?"
She sighed, "Now she's our daughter?"
"Yes, Nora, she is," he said, his voice losing it's previous tone and becoming hoarse, "Do you think the military would have given you everything you needed to make her?"
He could see she felt the sting of his words and he shook his head, "Excuse me, I've done a lot of yelling today."
Holding his hand over an area of his desk caused the surface to fold away, allowing the cold air below to rise as steam. A platform within began to rise, lifting a container into his hand. Taking a large gulp of it's contents seemed to alleviate the burn in his throat.
Sighing out of relief, he returned the container to the device and it lowered back into the compartment.
"I'm sorry, where were we?"
"Our daughter," she said after a pause, "Is severely damaged, but will be fine after some repairs."
He nodded, "Good. It was painful to watch her be attacked and know there was nothing I could do about it."
Growing irritated, Nora shook her head, "What was the FEV doing on that ship?"
"We had it contained on a war ship for the extra security it possessed. It was on route to the sun to destroy the container. The ship encountered a severe systems failure near Mars, allowing the experiment to be released. Shortly after it broke into the armory and retrieved Project-62, a prototype gauss rifle."
"So that's why the ship couldn't respond," Nora said.
"I'm afraid so," he said, looking again at the monitor, "Our computer was accessed while XJ-9 was fighting the FEV. The tracing system was brought back on line beforehand and it showed the downloader was a life form."
Nora nodded, "Yes, that was a friend of XJ-9's. He accompanied her on the mission."
He watched the video of the FEV attacking the robot, "Impressive. Our tests showed Project-62 had the capability to pierce twelve feet of concrete and steel."
"He is very talented and the robotic suit was built well."
"Yes, quite well. Our last known contact with Silver Hawk shown the FEV entering an escape pod before it's destruction."
Nora's eyes widened, "This is terrible news! What if it comes to Earth?!"
Raising his hand, he bowed slightly, "Leave that to us. We've had a tracking system implanted into it, which showed it traveling toward the Carthunian Nebula. As for the destruction of our ship, we are indebted to you. I can't even imagine the uproar if your military had responded. They must have been busy with another project of theirs."
"Yes," she said, "Lucky indeed."
He glanced to the screen again and sighed, "Well, I'm sure you understand the problems I have to deal with, so I'll have to cut our talk short. It was good seeing you again."
Nora sighed and leaned toward the keyboard, "As much as I hate to admit it, I feel the same, Arthur."
"Which is why I'm sorry that I have to wipe your hard drive. I have to protect our classified information."
"Wait, no!"
"Until next time," he said with a salute and a grin before the screen began flashing.
The computer began to make a loud, screeching sound before it popped and started emitting a cloud of grey smoke.
Her jaw agape, she slumped backward into her chair, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Arthur, there is no limit to the bounds of hatred I have for you…"
[][][]
Sheldon wiped the sweat from his forehead and loaded the last box of tools and parts into the back of the battered and rusty pickup truck. Walking to one of the trees he'd cut down, he picked up the chainsaw from the pile of sawdust.
He turned to walk back to the truck but found himself staring at the large clearing he used as a test site. Amid the craters and patches of burnt grass, he could see the tests of the Silver Shell's rockets, weapons, and exterior strength. He seemed happier back then, even though it felt like yesterday.
Hefting the chainsaw into the bed of the truck, he dropped the key for his workshop into one of the boxes, pausing to look inside.
Between the blueprints and power cells, a small derringer catches his attention. He reaches for it, hesitating before doing so, remembering the day his father gave it to him. That was the day 'Sheldon The Inventor' was born, the small yet simple design of the firearm being the inspiration he needed to get his start.
The pistol felt familiar in his hand, muscle memory causing him to hold it in front of him and look down the sights.
Thumbing the catch, he flipped the barrel upwards and seen that it was still loaded.
Taking a glance around him, he knew no one could hear anything this far from the city. He walked away from the truck and closed the breech while slowly pulling the hammer back. Looking to the target across the way, he disengaged the safety and held it in front of him.
Despite being chambered in the fairly accurate nine-millimeter caliber, the extremely small barrels made the firearm useless for anything but close range, around eight to ten feet being the most effective range.
Looking down the sight again, he heard his dad talking over his shoulder.
"Okay, keep your hands steady and aim carefully."
He nodded, inhaling and holding his breath as he was taught.
"Now, when you're ready, squeeze the trigger, don't pull. It's gonna have one hell of a kick, but don't be nervous."
He waited until he was sure of his aim.
Bang!
The crack of the first shot was nearly deafening and the weapon rose violently from the recoil. Taking a couple deep breaths, he pulled the hammer for the next shot and aimed.
Bang!
The second shot wasn't nearly as loud, his ears still ringing from the first shot. Blinking and lowering the weapon gave him a clear sight of the target. Both shots were less than an inch from the center, impressive for a twenty yard shot.
He turned the warm pistol over in his hand, reading the shaky words he'd carved beside the 'James Firearms' logo.
Never forget what made you.
Shaking his head, Sheldon slid the weapon into his pocket so he wouldn't forget to clean it and hopped into the truck.
The keys already in the ignition, he pushed on the clutch and wiggled the gear shift to be sure it was in neutral. Turning the key resulted in the tired engine cranking, emitting a faint hiss as it did so. Another moment later it started and idled, although it seemed to dislike it.
'Even needing head gaskets and piston rings,' he thought, 'The old girl still pulls her weight.'
"What's the news, Tremorton? This is Kip Kasper on KLON radio with the details on the ChimpZ live concert coming to our fine city! Tickets go on sale-"
Easing onto the gas, the volume of the exhaust increased enough to drown out the radio, a sign of a rotted out muffler, but the truck began to roll forward.
Following the now clear trail through the forest, it wasn't before he reached the house, swinging the large vehicle around the side of the garage to park in the driveway.
The engine shutting itself off brought a sigh from it's driver.
Opening the tailgate and stacking the boxes, he brought the items he'd collect into the garage and set them on the bench.
Now, the clock read 3:48.
"Better tell dad," he said out loud.
He was used to the quiet atmosphere of his house, him usually being the only one home, but today felt different. It seemed there was a tension in the air. Maybe it was him.
His computer already running, he opened his browser and hacked into the military database of Fort Krieger. Changing the title of the main page to 'Fort Awesome' resulted in the desired conclusion.
The page was immediately changed back to normal and a chat window opened.
"Hey, son, what's up?"
He typed his reply, "I need to use the truck to run somewhere."
It took a moment for the reply, "I don't know, you stayed home today, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but I didn't miss anything important. I'm ahead in all my classes except auto shop."
"Well…" was the reply, Sheldon already knowing the answer, "Alright, but be careful. If you get caught driving without a license, your mother will kill you, then she'll turn her sights on me."
"Sure thing."
"We need to get rid of that thing, get something better."
Sheldon smiled, "Nah, dad, the truck's great."
"I'll tell you what," the box said, taking another moment to finish, "If you can talk your teacher into letting you finish It in class, I'll buy the parts if you make a list."
"Sounds great, I'll talk to him tomorrow. Thanks."
"Not a problem, and be careful, there are some LEO's who don't know your old man."
[][][]
'Red?' he thought, looking at the colors of the jackets in front of him.
Shaking his head, he picked up a brown one to inspect the needlework on the seams. Deciding it'd have to do, he started the walk to the counter, but stopped to look at a CD display.
ChimpZ: Velvet Sand.
He picked up a copy and looked at the picture of the characters. Being a fan he knew their names by heart.
"Udon, Shiver, Doc-Dimes, and 4-B," he said to himself, remembering how much he loved their first album.
After some quick math he decided he'd have enough to get both and brought it to the register.
"That's a great album," the blue-haired girl shouted over her headphones, "Listening to it now."
"I didn't know it was out already," he said, handing her the money.
"What?"
He shook his head and took the change, "Nothing."
"Alright, have a good one."
He sighed as he ripped the tags from the jacket, always feeling he was on the receiving end of awkward moments.
"Ah, much better."
"Sheldon?"
He turned to see the owner of the voice walk toward him.
"Hey, what brought you here?"
"Hey, Brad," he answered, "Had to get a new jacket."
"That's cool," he said with a nod, "I was supposed to meet Jenny here, but Mrs. Wakeman said she couldn't go."
Jenny. He could have gone without hearing her name.
"That's too bad."
Brad nodded, "Yeah. I came here anyway, but it's been rather dull. Ran into Jaxon, but he was busy, so I'm probably gonna head home."
Sheldon nodded before, the silence becoming unbearable. Brad began to look around, the smile remaining on his face.
"Well, I'm getting ready to leave myself. Do you… need a ride, or something?"
He seemed to think about it, eventually nodding, "Sure, that'd be great. Jenny usually flies me home, and I really don't want to walk."
Sheldon sighed and started walking, ignoring Brad's talk about things him and his friends would do on their days at the mall. He actually began to regret the offer.
"So," Brad said as they started across the lot, "Is… your parents picking us up?"
Sheldon shook his head and opened the door of the truck, "No."
Brad looked it over and followed him in, "You're driving without a license? That's pretty cool, not losery at all!"
Sheldon glanced toward him while he started the engine.
"Well, I didn't mean losery, it's just that I never pictured you doing something like this."
Sheldon rolled his eyes and started driving toward Jenny's, again, tuning out Brad's voice.
While idling at the red light, the engine began to sputter and threatened to stall. Some skillful foot work on the throttle kept it going and they continued once the light changed.
"You really listen to the ChimpZ?" Brad asked, seeing the CD sitting next to him on the seat.
"Yes. I do," Sheldon said, the tone of his voice causing Brad to laugh nervously and stammer.
"W-well, I didn't mean it was a bad thing, it's just, I didn't know you listened to them."
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Brad."
After a couple minutes, Sheldon sighed, "I'm sorry, I've just been wound up a little tight today."
"Does it have anything to do with you and Jenny being absent today?" Brad asked, his expression showing he was genuinely worried.
"Sort of."
Sheldon swung the large vehicle to the curb and shifted to neutral.
Brad unbuckled his seatbelt, "I won't press too much into it, but if you need to tell someone, I'll listen."
"Thanks, I might take you up on that sometime," he said, not really meaning it.
"Of course. You and Jenny are my amigos."
That name again…
"Thanks for the ride."
Waving, he moved to shift into drive when he noticed the form of Mrs. Wakeman walking across her lawn.
"Hello, Sheldon. I though that was you."
He nodded and let the engine die, "Hey, Dr. Wakeman. How are you?"
She shrugged and motioned to the lawn mower, "I've had some computer trouble, so while the OS is installing, I figured I'd finish some yard work."
"I know that feeling," he said, the phrase sounding awkward coming from him.
"Oh, before I forget," she said, reaching into the pocket of her jacket, "Here's you flash drive. It was in the computer when it crashed, so let me or XJ-9 know if it's damaged and I'll replace it."
Shaking his head, "Don't worry about, I got plenty of these things."
"Also, you didn't happen to make any copies of the data you downloaded from the ship, did you? I was reviewing it when the computer malfunctioned."
He nodded slowly, "My laptop was destroyed in the crash, but it should still have the originals on it's hard drive. Did you want another copy? I can run home and pull the drive out."
"No, no, no, it's not that important. Just be careful if you start snooping through it and let me know if you find anything interesting. Or, again, you could tell XJ-9."
[][][]
Pulling on his shirt, he walked from the bathroom while drying his hair with a towel. Entering his room, he glanced into the mirror and moved to sit in the computer chair, stopping to look back in the mirror. Not believing his reflection, he leaned closer to get a better look.
He noticed his skin was clearer around his face and it appeared like several freckles were gone.
Moving his head around to get a look at different angles, he eventually shrugged and sat behind the computer, "Must have bought a new kind of shampoo."
He logged in to E-1337 Engineering and clicked on the mailbox.
"Sh3l-Shock3d, you have several messages," the computerized voice said.
Being only site updates, he deleted them and went to logout.
The cursor hovered over the link, but he didn't push the button. Instead he opened a new page and decrypted the barrier for the military database. Ignoring the page he changed earlier, he connected to the central server, linking him to every military computer in the country. Searching through three days of notices, he found what he was looking for.
'RE: Blackbird.'
Checking the status bar of his decryption, he clicked the link and read the notice.
"To all personnel involved in the recently closed project Blackbird, submit all of your data through an encrypted FTP via this mailbox for cataloguing. After doing so, you are required to destroy all physical, digital, and mental knowledge of the project immediately. Thank you for your cooperation. /Colonel Summer."
Again checking the bar, he clicked the link and began to download all files sent to it. Archiving it and setting a password, he closed all of the military windows and began to read the data aloud.
"The XJ-10 (Codenamed: Blackbird) was the result of many years of updates and modification of {Data Expunged}'s XJ-9 battle droid. With the failure and termination of XJ-9 (Codenamed: Blue J) the XJ-10 project was to be an independent weapons system rather than successor. With the declassification of Blackbird, the project was scrapped due to budget issues and lack of the ability to achieve the specifications of the project's projections. For more info, see the attached blueprints."
Slowly, he moved the mouse to the image of the blueprints for the project, taking an extreme amount of effort to finally click on it.
His eyes widened in disbelief, as he stared at the screen. Without looking away, he opened a drawer beside him and removed the copy he'd made of XJ-9's schematics.
Side by side, the differenced were numerous. Not only the strength, resilience, but even the shape of the design of the model was improved. This could be an unstoppable force in the wrong hands.
And instantly, the desire to create was re-ignited.
[][][]
After he finished typing the new post, he clicked the submit button.
"Calling all BadLads, we have work to do."
Almost instantly he received a reply.
Danimal442, "I take it you found what I told you?"
"It was unbelievable. We have to get started right away!"
Danimal442, "Just what I wanted to hear. So, what's the first objective?"
"We need to begin planning. I'm sending you a copy of the schematics."
Jay-Sin22, "What're we building? An army of robots for the zombie apocalypse?"
"No, nothing like that… It's more of a horde and I've already stashed them away."
Jay-Sin22, "I'm not going to be getting any Lithium Cells, am I?"
"I'll send you some tomorrow. For this project, I'm thinking of bringing back the Passive Perpetual Motion system, anyway."
Jay-Sin22, "Hot Digitty Daffodil! I am forever in your debt!"
"Let's start with reviewing the schematics I just sent you."
Danimal442, "So how do we start? Assigning roles or putting together a shopping list? If I know you, half the stuff you're gonna want is hard to get."
"I'll handle the acquisition, you get a list together. We can use surplus for most of it and I have about two metric tons of steel we can use."
Danimal442, "No, you're not destroying the Silver Shell!"
"It's beyond repair. Besides, we can use a lot of the components that's intact."
Danimal442, "I'm going to ignore you telling us what happened to it, but everything's repairable! SS is the first great accomplishment of the BadLads! Besides, I've been working on a new type of metal that would be perfect for this application."
"If you say so."
Jay-Sin22, "Not to interrupt the lover's quarrel, this design is calling for Artificial Intelligence. Last time any of us attempted that was… never. It was pure luck SS turned out as well as he did."
"Not only will we need to code A.I., I'm planning on giving it Sentience. I have a few other revisions I plan to make to the designs, but I can handle all of that."
Xenigma, "I can code A.I. and give it Sentience."
Danimal442, "This is a private post, newb!"
Xenigma, "Aww…"
Jay-Sin22, "Wow, Dan."
Danimal442, "Don't call me that."
"What's your experience?"
Xenigma, "I have eleven years of coding and electrical engineering experience, with four years of apprenticeship in a repair shop."
"Why do you want to help us?"
Xenigma, "I've followed the BadLads work for months. You manage to build the most impressive creations I've ever seen, and even if it's only this once, I want to be a part of it."
Jay-Sin22, "We do need a coder."
Danimal442, "I guess we don't have a choice."
"Alright, I've sent you a copy of the schematics. Let's get planning, team."
Xenigma, "You have my brain."
Danimal442, "And my axe."
Jay-Sin22, "…"
"…"
Xenigma, "…"
Danimal442, "Not cool?"
Alright, I got a little carried away again. I was rushing because I was planning on this being a short intro, but it got to be pretty long, at least compared to my other work.
So, we've got a little look into the BadLads latest project, and a little more insight into XJ-9's past. I'm not going to lie, I feel Brad was a little out of character, him being one of the few I can't remember a lot about, but his role was served, so I'll leave it at that.
Thanks for reading. I'm off to finish a much needed update on another story.