"Sigh…" he exhaled tiredly, as if wishing that breath would remove his fatigue. His velvet red blazer felt heavy on his shoulders and his dark black slacks were like ropes binding his legs yet despite this, it wasn't his body that was bothering him.
It would've been easy to just go back to his quarters and hit the sack. Nightfall had already gone and passed bringing along with it a cold chill. No one would've blamed him if he just went back to sleep with all these conditions yet he trudged on through the open icy air that even his blazer couldn't warm thoroughly. After all, if his hunch was right then he'd at least get rid of his slowly throbbing headache.
Passing through a dim-lit pathway, he made his way to a solid metal door. Behind it would be a dim room full of flashing monitors with documents messily sprawled all over the place. It would be an ordinary, already welcoming, sight for him with only one thing feeling out of place.
Sliding open the door, a strong cooly scent hit his nose. It was a familiar smell, one he had gotten much experience with lately, but slightly different. Before even registering it in his head, he heard someone speak past the inconsistent beeps and buzz of electronic equipment.
"Yo! Welcome back! Up for a drink?"
The voice was soft and firm. Pitched to sound feminine yet her tone and way of speaking was masculine. It felt like a mismatch yet just right for the owner of the voice. She was, after all, an oddity from the first sight.
On top of a large rectangular table at the center of a room sat a girl raising her hand. In it was a glass filled with roasted brown liquor.
The one sitting on the table where important documents haphazardly spread out looked like a beautiful young girl with long braided black hair streaked with yellow highlights. She had a carefree smile on her porcelain-like face which highlighted the captivating beauty mark under left eye; an eye with a soft shade of black which he found rather mystifying.
He could've passed her off simply as a girl sitting nonchalantly on top of confidential files, and that itself would've already looked odd, but the yellow-streaked black eyepatch covering multiple obvious scars on what was supposed to be her right eye broke that image. In it's own way it captivated his thoughts but it was the more on how she'd look without it.
He sighed visibly and audibly, trying to look annoyed, before replying.
"I assume that's what you called me here for? Just like last time?"
She hopped off the table, her dull yellow long sleeves shirt following her movements with little resistance, before trying to straighten her messy skirt.
At first glance, the best word to describe her would be sloppy. Alongside the simple black jacket with yellow insignias that covered her when she was on operations made it hard to refute. But despite that, she had a certain charm he found hard to ignore.
The smile on her face never disappeared as she picked up a large glass bottle behind her. Inside it was a liquid with similar color to the one in her glass.
"It's different this time. I've finally got my hands on some real good stuff."
She spoke like a child that just received a birthday present yet despite her demeanor, she wasn't a normal girl. The scars on her right eye gave away clues but it did not tell the whole story. Appearance or not, she wasn't even human.
A machine made for battle, she was a T-doll meant to wield firearms and engage in wars that humans found too costly to fight themselves.
And it took great effort to remind himself of that fact.
He brushed her off as he went inside the room. His red uniform blazer weighed on his shoulders so he took it off as he grabbed a rotating chair from the side of the room.
"I've told you that you're not allowed to drink here, didn't I M16?"
The girl, named after an old American service rifle that she was assigned to wield, took another glass that sat beside her and poured the liquid to pass it to him.
"You always say that yet you always give in," she replied taking a seat at the edge of the table in front of him.
He took a moment to scan where her firearm was and found it lying beside the base of the table. It was like a reminder to him about the desolate world he currently lived in. One filled with strife he wanted to block out even for just a small moment every day.
He pushed those thoughts away as he took the drink, bringing his glass to hers to a toast after replying, "That's because you pass me the drink before I could even refuse every time."
"Yet we both know you're not really complaining, Commander," she said teasingly while taking another sip of her drink.
Breathing out loud, he gave up his charade and let out a relaxed expression. It's true that he was fatigued but it wasn't his body was the least of his concerns.
As a commander for the Paramilitary Corporation, Griffon and Kryuger, his job was to command T-dolls to perform skirmishes whenever necessary. Giving out orders wasn't tough on the body but thinking of strategies and sending out T-dolls, whom mostly looked and felt no different from a human, into the frontlines took a toll on his psyche.
"So, how is this different from our usual nightly rendezvous?" he asked, making the situation sound more exaggerated, as he looked at the liquid inside the glass that M16 passed to him.
"I've finally got my hands on a bottle of Jack Daniels. Thought I'd share it with you."
Like a child proud of an achievement, she pumped her chest out as she drowned all the remaining liquor in her glass down her throat.
"That's a nice sentiment," he said knowing that Jack Daniels was her favorite drink yet his eyes couldn't miss out the bottle that had already been half empty. He chuckled a bit before teasingly continuing on, "I guess you also took the liberty of drinking most of it so I don't have to drink that much?"
"Well, you took a while to come back so I just had to take a taste. Sangvis causing more trouble than normal?"
Her look became a bit somber as she looked straight at him. He was almost taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor but, in hindsight, it should've been a normal thing for her to say.
Sangvis Ferri was their daily enemy. A year ago they were a well known manufacturing company, producing high quality combatants for military operations. That was until their T-dolls suddenly went rogue and started to execute everyone on sight. It wasn't that long since he helped rescue her from one of those T-dolls called Intruder.
"Nah, it's not that," he nonchalantly waved her off before taking a sip on his glass. The cool liquid passed through his throat, leaving its warmth and a strong taste on his tongue.
"I just requested some documents from Miss Helian and Miss Persica," he continued as he offhandedly thought of his superior officer and the lead researcher of 16Labs, the company involved in making T-dolls.
"Oh?" M16 refilled her glass halfway through. "Confidential stuff?"
"Ah no, it's mostly about Sangvis Ferri's T-dolls."
He took another swig at his drink, emptying up his glass and letting the roasted brown liquid's effects take some effect, before finishing his sentence.
"I wanted to familiarize myself with them, especially with the rise of their T-dolls with emotion modules."
Emotion modules, he recalled while nursing the slowly gripping influence of the alcohol, were the installed chips that gave T-dolls their personalities and ability to act like a human. In a way, he wished G&K didn't have it in their combat T-dolls.
At least he would have an easier time sending the girls out to the frontline.
"What?" she breathed out returning to her casual self. "Still not used to everything?"
"It's not a matter of getting used to it or not." He exhaled deeply, thinking back to his previous enemy encounters.
The past notion that all Sangvis T-dolls were emotionless killing machines couldn't hold up anymore. One of his mental pillars was in danger of crumbling which left a chill in his spine.
As cold as the words he heard Intruder say in the playback recording, the shot of whiskey made its presence known down his throat as he downed another glass straight up.
"It pays to know your opponent and how they think."
"Hoh, seems like we're getting into it," she replied with an elated tone after he poured himself another half a glass. Her visibly happy face suddenly switched to a deep concern though as she continued, "But that's not what I meant. I meant about us T-dolls going into battle. I can tell that you're getting things confused. You should treat us as tools. It would be a lot easier that way."
He leaned back on his chair and let the ever growing grip of the alcohol wrap around his head. For a moment, he wondered if M16 was also feeling the same lightheadedness that he was but that thought immediately got fuzzy and out of focus.
Despite his fading thoughts, he knew M16 was right. T-dolls aren't humans and, no matter how much they cry in pain, they weren't as fragile as he was. Yet, despite that, he couldn't easily just follow what she said.
He should've been used to drowning out the noise already but it always got harder as time went by.
With all the inner conflict going on in his head, he wasn't able to notice his words slipping past as he exhaled, "Doesn't help when you guys feel like human beings."
"But we're not humans."
The cold, logical yet unreasonable, reply broke his reverie. The source of it looked straight at him without the laid-back alcohol loving personality she normally had. She was serious about it, as serious as her words that followed.
"You have to remember that."
Her words were firm, like a commander giving his men orders, yet gentle at the same time. It felt more of a concerned warning than a reminder. Like an older sister giving her younger brother a stern lesson.
In the past week that he had spent time with M16, he grew to know her past her carefree drunkard self. He didn't understand how a T-doll's personality module worked and whether their memories and experiences helped shape it but she wasn't just someone who breezes through her job and drinks her worries away.
"Thanks for your concern but I'll be fine," he said directing a smile to her. Whether it looked natural or showed his fatigue, he didn't know.
"Well then, let's drink some more!" she energetically replied as while downing her own glass seemingly without a care in the world.
"Hey commander, mind telling me why you joined Griffon?" asked M16, breaking the short silence that settled as they finally finished the second bottle of Jack Daniels that she had hidden away.
She had already unbuttoned her long sleeves, probably because the alcohol made her feel too warm, which revealed a dark green tank top. Although he argued against it with her earlier, as he felt she was being too unguarded with him, she won out in the end and he just had to accept it.
"Hmmm," he trailed off as he tried to clear his head.
He wasn't a heavy drinker so the buzz of the alcohol was acting strongly in his senses. The person in front of him glowed under the dim light. For a moment, she looked like one of those battle maidens from the stories he heard as a kid. With porcelain-like skin reflecting the light off elegantly as they gracefully fought through the battlefield, they ended up being both a symbol of beauty and power.
But those were just stories; myths from a long lost era. In front of him was someone who lives in the present; someone who still struggles and fights. Whether it looked elegant did not matter to her as long as she finishes the job. It was also her who he should be looking at.
"Would you be disappointed if I said I did it for the money?" he managed to reply after sobering up his thoughts by focusing on his breathing.
"Not really. I know Griffon pays and a lot of commanders also join for the same reason. I just thought you had other reasons."
Like usual, M16 still looked unfazed. At first he wondered if alcohol even affects T-dolls but after a while he just ended up accepting for a fact that he was really no match to her when it comes to drinking.
"Well, there is one other reason. Wanna take a guess?" he said with a playful smile.
"Fame? I know some commanders want to look like a hero of some sort and you seemed so comfortable with your command for a newbie that I thought you had experience already."
"A war hero huh…" he replied dejectedly as he looked back up the ceiling.
Her response wasn't bad. He knew there were only a few reasons why someone would take on a military-like career; one of the biggest reason would be fame and glory. Her response wasn't out of place at all but he couldn't hide his displeasure at the thought.
"No, it's not that. I hate war," he said while purging the rising pit in his stomach.
"Oh?" M16 spoke out in surprise. She looked at him with widened eyes as if he just said the biggest secret in the world.
"Did I say something weird?"
"No," she replied warily while shifting her gaze to the ground. "It just-"
"Makes less sense why I'd join a paramilitary company?" he interrupted as a derisive smile was formed on face.
The veiled contempt wasn't directed at the confused girl in front of him though. It was of the banality of the answer and his inability to change it. Yet because of its simplicity he can see a common ground between the two of them.
A common ground that was his other reason for fighting battles he did not enjoy.
He turned to look at the wall full of panels of monitors as he let his thoughts simmer. Different visual were being displayed. Some were surveillance cameras displaying areas close to hostile territory. Others were virtual map readings with points of interest and suggested tactical routes to engage it. For the past month, this was the place where he observed the T-dolls under his command fight and struggle.
"T-dolls aren't all too different from humans," he continued, shifting his gaze back to M16.
The beauty mark under her sole visible eye captivated him for a bit. If things were just a bit more different they could've been sharing a drink as friends, maybe even more.
Things weren't that simple though.
Yet despite the reality of the situation weighing down on him, the connection he had with her still existed.
"I don't see much of a difference between you and me," he started. "We both have emotions, have preferences, and we both feel pain. Don't you agree?"
M16 showed unamusement at his words as she replied in a listless manner, "You're making things far simpler than they really are."
He chuckled a laugh as he heard her response. She was right; he simplifying things too much but that wasn't enough for him to let go of his stance.
After all, his answer to her question was also far too simple.
"What I'm saying is that we both have our similarities. That also means the same for our abilities and limitations. Whether it'd be T-doll or human, we both have things only we can do. And like how there are T-dolls who can only do one thing, there are also humans who are only suited for one job."
For a moment, he closed his eyes as if to digest his own thoughts before continuing.
"Whether that distinction differs for a T-doll with a preprogrammed AI or a human with a predisposition to things doesn't matter. You just end up doing the only thing you can do."
M16 sighed as her head slumped with an exaggerated manner.
"Each time we drink together you end up looking more and more shady, Commander. I'm doubting whether it's a good idea to leave my sisters in your hands now."
To him, the concept of family felt out of place coming from her. Even to some humans, the concept of a family is in vain yet she was holding it firmly. Family, to her, was something beyond sharing the same blood. Whether this was also a preprogrammed response, he didn't know nor cared about.
All he knew was that M16 cared about her three sisters dearly. She stood as guidance whenever they started doubting themselves. Perhaps this took a toll on her own psyche which led to her personality of liking alcohol.
The idea that she let down her guard only to him made him feel undeniably happy but he didn't want to show it.
"Your sisters are lucky to have you," he whispered under his breath.
"What was that, Commander? I didn't hear you there."
He exhaled as he stood up. "I said we should finish up. I have a meeting with Griffon's executives tomorrow."
M16 sighed in a disappointed manner, likely as a form of protest, but he took no heed of it as he grabbed his velvet coat which laid sprawling on top of the table.
The meeting he had the next day was an important one; important enough that the location was set to be in what they called a secret base. Even M16, who'd normally complain that she hadn't drank enough, wordlessly complied as she would be with Anti-Rain in patrolling the perimeter.
Either that or she was afraid of him telling M4, the younger sister she cared the most, about having drinking sessions.
After seeing M16 clean up the table, he started to make his way towards the door before he remembered something. It had been on his mind since the first time they met but thought it was too personal to ask.
He felt that this night might just be the right moment to ask.
"Say M16," he said turning back to her. "Can I look at you without your eyepatch?"
M16 was visibly surprised by his request. "For what reason?"
He smiled, thinking back to their conversation just a few minutes back. "Would you be disappointed if I said I just wanted to see you without it?"
M16 sighed, seemingly out of resignation.
"I guess I owe you this much since you did manage to rescue me and my sisters," she replied as she undid the eyepatch to reveal the scars of her past.
Every soldier has their share of marks from their battles but T-dolls are different. Every blemish and injury they received could be fixed and embellished. Yet, even with though G&K surely had the technology and resources, M16 still had her scars.
Whether it served as a reminder to her or just a random decision she made, he didn't know. What he did know was it did not look the slightest bit unsightly. Nothing looked more dignified to him; nothing more human.
It was enough to bring a genuine smile of satisfaction to his face.
"As I expected, you still look beautiful even without it."