Tasteless
Eleventh Entry - Evidence Review - FNC's Neural Cloud (Part II)
January 28, 2063 - Dawn
Recreational Quarters - Cafe Springfield
Springfield and WA sat together before the cafe's projector screen in uneasy silence. The cups of coffee that G36 had poured for them earlier sat cold and half-empty on their saucers while their owners were immersed in the horrifying scenes that FNC had seen.
The bitter battles that the Belgian was forced to fight.
The cruel yet effective utilitarianism of the Commander's routine.
The blood and oil spilled on the snow.
These were the things that FNC was forced to endure for her own survival at the Commander's behest.
However, what truly terrified Springfield to the core were the sounds.
Gunfire.
Howling winds.
Artillery blasts.
There were curses, cries and calls for help that fell upon deaf ears - only to be silenced by hellfire.
The Commander's calm yet mischievous voice that loomed over the scenes, orchestrating the massacre for the 'greater good'.
Then… FNC's inner thoughts.
Those thoughts swam around FNC's neural cloud throughout those harrowing 96 hours of suffering. It was a tireless, thankless cycle that the Belgian witnessed over and over - as well as a baptism of fire.
For the most part, the girl tried to drown out the shrill noises of the battlefield by repeating the Commander's orders in her mind.
'Don't stop shooting.'
'Don't stop shooting.'
'Don't stop shooting.'
However, at the end of every battle, a deathly silence lingered in the snowy killing fields. Those were the times she felt truly alone - surrounded by her four expressionless and uncaring dummy links, and the corpses of four innocent and trusting T-Dolls she had led to their untimely deaths.
To add insult to injury, every group that FNC had sacrificed - all 187 of them so far - always had an MP40 unit in its ranks. Every single one of them eagerly volunteered to be FNC's protege. Every single one of them wore a bright smile for their venerable 'senpai'.
Those smiles were knives that cut into FNC's already broken heart. They dug deeper and deeper with every passing moment… especially since the Commander ordered her to smile back at her victims.
She was forced to make the victims comfortable. She was forced to earn their trust. She was forced to humor them - answer their questions - laugh with them…
All before knowingly sending them to a battle they will not survive.
During the first dozen or so engagements, FNC couldn't help but burst into tears. She was overwhelmed by her guilt and her shame - but she always willed herself back without fail.
After all, she knew quite well that the Commander had other 'options' to earn those Red Envelopes. FNC filled her mind with her conviction to avenge her 'Springfield-oneesama' - and her indomitable will to protect M14 and everyone else she loved and cared for.
As time passed, those tearful breakdowns grew less and less frequent. Slowly but surely, FNC built a mask to hide behind and stopped shedding tears altogether.
On top of that, with every battle she won, FNC's conviction and will grew stronger - but they started to get warped into something absolutely repulsive.
FNC's remorseful dialogue once overflowed with agony. This agony withered away into cold calculation, an obsession with efficiency and an unhealthy, delirious devotion to become invaluable to her devil of a Commander.
In that delirium, FNC learned how to wear unnaturally warm smiles for the refugee dolls who came to replace her dead teammates. The Belgian's expression was kindly enough to earn their trust while her blue eyes shimmered with cheerfulness.
Whenever she did so, however, her inner thoughts were disturbing - to say the least. The tactics she employed in battle also grew daring and heartless.
Somewhere down that slippery slope, FNC snapped. Those innocent T-Dolls became nothing but fodder for the Jupiter Cannons in her jaded blue eyes.
In the heat of battle, she learned how to wield the weapons of her fallen allies - just so that the ammunition they were issued wouldn't 'go to waste'. Before long, she started picking up the corpses of the dolls themselves to use as literal meat shields against autocannon fire.
All of the T-Dolls who saw her in battle like that were horrified - but none of them lived to tell the tale. None of them suspected her either - especially since FNC sent them to battle with warm, reassuring smiles.
Naturally, the Commander took notice of this and was impressed. The cruel efficiency that the Belgian adopted resonated with him, so he lavished her with praise.
She was called a wonderful daughter - sparkling in the spray of blood and oil on the battlefield.
FNC became the Commander's Goddess of Death - and she embraced the role wholeheartedly.
...
One hundred and eighty-seven engagements into FNC's fall from grace, WA felt sick in her stomach. She tore her eyes away from the screen and rubbed her forehead with frustration.
The cup of lukewarm coffee before her was a bounty of FNC's madness - as was the cup of hot chocolate that she lovingly prepared for Springfield and herself just hours ago.
Those thoughts left a bitter taste in her mouth and spurred her to act.
However, in the corner of her eye, she saw Springfield still watching the screen. The adjutant looked like a mother who was watching her child - her precious daughter - suffering behind prison bars. Shadows shrouded Springfield's eyes in a dark veil - but it was clear that she was prepared to follow FNC's journey through to the end.
So, with a heavy heart, WA forced herself to watch the screen again. There, she watched FNC begin her 188th engagement on the bloodstained snowfields - the last engagement she fought before Operation Arctic Warfare finally consumed her.
January 27, 2063 - Late Afternoon
Area AW3-4E Mountains
North-West Heliport
The six helicopters flew overhead from my position that afternoon as the main combat echelons wrapped up their mission and returned home. My mission, on the other hand, still had a ways to go.
While those helicopters were returning home, another helicopter was flying towards me. It was an unmarked bird - as usual - and it was carrying the replacements for my dead team.
Four fresh new faces.
New blood to be spilled for the sake of the station.
The helicopter descended near my position and dropped off those new greenhorns. They were clueless about what was about to happen to them and smiled at me like they were going on some sort of leisurely trip.
Honestly, it was better this way. The more comfortable they were, the more they trusted this hollow smile I wore for them.
There was another MP40 in this batch. I wasn't surprised by that anymore.
Just as I expected, she was the eager one in the bunch and she wanted to be my protege.
Heh. Some can't wait to die, huh?
Poor kid.
Anyways, let's see what victims the Commander sent me.
An M3. Grenadier.
M1911. Flash-banger.
IDW. Runner.
MP40. Fire.
Ah…. isn't this familiar. It's just like that team I had from the first time.
Well, it won't matter in the end. They're all gonna die anyways, so I might as well make use of them.
With that in mind, I told them about our objective and the atmosphere changed in an instant. The innocent, leisurely attitude the dolls had when they stepped off of the helicopter were wiped away by the flurries of Area AW.
M3 shriveled up like a dead plant. M1911 frowned like a dog. IDW's face went white from fear… and MP40…
MP40 looked disappointed.
Still, I kept my facade and reassured them,
"The Commander promised that all of us are gonna go home together, so lighten up!"
It was the same lie that I've told a hundred and eighty-eight times now. Those words rolled off my tongue like it was second nature.
So, with our order of business laid out, I began our engagement and marched my echelon towards our objective.
I had the four dolls march ahead of me through the snowy slopes of North-Eastern AW3-4E. They were spread out as far away from each other as possible - the most efficient layout for the kind of work I expected them to do.
I wanted to exploit the Jupiter Cannons' targeting mechanisms. They always seemed to focus fire on the target closest to them - picking new victims only once their target was dead.
That meant that IDW was gonna be the first to go - and this particular IDW seemed to understand what that meant.
She was going to be the first to die.
IDW's are one of my favorite cannon fodders. Their skill gives them that crucial boost in evasion that buys me precious seconds for me and my dummy links to destroy a Jupiter Cannon or two before she died. She should be honored.
Hell. All of these girls should be honored to be here with me!
Thanks to me, their deaths will serve the station well.
Their sacrifices will earn the station the resources we so desperately need.
All the food they're eating in the mess hall.
All the money spent for manpower hours.
All the ammunition they take into battle.
All the spare parts they use for repairs.
The station can enjoy it all - thanks to me!
Besides, resources aside, they don't really have a choice in the matter. The Command module I have all but ensures that they will follow the plan to the letter.
I didn't have a choice when I became the Goddess of Death… so why should they?
...
Fifteen minutes into our march, we approached the heliport node of North-Eastern AW. The unmistakable silhouettes of the Jupiter Cannons in the distance was an oddly beautiful sight as they greeted us on the incline.
Before long, infrared sensors started picking up our presence in the area. The dormant Jupiter Cannons whirred to life and frantically searched for the locations of the intruders.
At this range, the FLIR sensors on those cannons couldn't make out our exact locations just yet. Infrared isn't exactly a long-range sensor, after all - especially when the perpetually strong flurries of Area AW distort them at distance.
However, when we enter a certain point, those infrared eyes become sharp and ruthless and guide the Jupiter Cannons to begin the slaughter.
Over these past few days, I became familiar with the gazes of those infrared eyes. I calculated how efficiently they tracked their targets and how quickly they re-calibrated the Jupiters' formidable weapons.
If I were to be honest, I became much more familiar with the Jupiter Cannons than the dolls I sent to die for me.
I knew exactly at what point the carnage would begin, so I greeted the war machine from where I stood.
Goedenmiddag, minjer Jupiter.
I come bearing gifts for you again.
One of them runs very, very fast - but that's what makes it fun, right?
The thrill of the hunt.
Enjoy them while they last.
Do what you will with them.
Meanwhile, I will be the one to destroy you - and take the Red Envelope that my demon so desires!
As I was thinking of this, the Jupiter Cannons' sensors sharpened and detected my front-liner, IDW.
It looks like the Cannons have accepted the new blood.
Now, the bloodbath can begin anew!
I pressed on my earpiece and shouted out my orders,
"Engage the enemy according to plan! No retreat - no surrender!"
And so, the battle was joined - and the fates of these naive girls were sealed.
From my position, I watched as the chain guns of the Jupiter Cannons emerged from their disappearing mounts. Those rapid-fire guns opened fire on the frightened IDW, but the cat already activated her skill. Now, that should but me twelve seconds or so to close the distance.
At least, that's what I thought.
While I was going through the motions of the Commander's routine, IDW started deviating from the plan.
She was running away from the battlefield!
Oh dear me.
That simply won't do, IDW.
You don't seem to be responding to my Command module as well.
I can't risk any deviations to the plan - otherwise we'll become inefficient.
You'll serve your purpose one way or another, you cat…!
So I pointed my assault rifle at the retreating IDW and shot an APCR round through her leg.
Direct hit!
Hah! The fool didn't even bother to evade my shot.
She probably didn't think I'd hit her from this range. Hell, she probably didn't think I'd shoot her at all!
That's what you get for disobeying my orders!
Thus, the Jupiter Cannons opened fire on the disabled IDW with their chain guns - before blasting her to hell with a flurry of artillery shells.
When the other two-stars saw this however, they were terrified too - and they started to run as well.
Insolent kids!
M3 and M1911 went off in separate directions, but the two of them still ran into the line of fire of the chain guns. Only a horrified MP40 stayed by my side and helplessly watched the carnage that ensued.
As fireballs consumed the deserters, MP40 turned to me with a look of utter disbelief and demanded,
"HOW COULD YOU DO THAT, SENPAI!?"
At this point, I wiped the fake smile from my face and turned to MP40 with my war-weary expression. With blank blue eyes, I stared straight into this naive child's honey browns and plainly stated,
"IDW deviated from the plan, so she needed to be punished. M3 and M1911 have done the same and paid the price as well. Do you understand?"
MP40 clenched her fists and defiantly refused my logic,
"That's not right, senpai! That's too cruel…!"
As MP40 tearfully lamented, the snowstorm blowing through Area AW suddenly grew stronger and blocked my line of sight.
I couldn't see much further than the length of my assault rifle, and the German SMG doll who refused to move.
Unamused by her antics, I pointed the barrel straight at MP40's head and warned her one last time.
"This is the front line, MP40. There is no room for kindness here. Because of them, this battle is about to be lost."
While I was speaking, I sensed the infrared eyes of the Jupiter Cannons piercing through the snowstorm. They eventually detected my dummy links and then started methodically destroying them with a medley autocannon shots and heavy artillery shells.
Then, the infrared sensors turned to me.
These familiar eyes watched me as they trained their weapons at me.
However, this was the point where the Commander would give me the order to retreat.
I already had a plan for how to make a run for it. I just had to kill this MP40 and use her as a shield while I escaped. The snowstorm can cover my tracks too.
All I needed was the Commander's green light.
He still needed me, after all.
I was the key to his plan to save our station - and to avenge Springfield-oneesama.
I was his Goddess of Death and Deception.
I was too valuable to lose….
Right?
Huh…?
That's strange…
Where's the order to retreat!?
I pressed onto my earpiece and cried out,
"Commander!"
…
There was no response.
T-this can't be right…
You promised me…!
You promised me that I was the only one who could avenge Springfield-oneesama!
Give me the order to retreat!
"COMMANDER!"
The infrared eyes sharpened their gaze from behind the snowstorm. The cannons were already preparing to fire - and I could already tell where they were going to hit.
However, the tearful MP40 stood before me and spread her arms out as far as she could. The infrared sensors started picking up her silhouette instead of mine, so the guns re-calibrated...
Then, in those precious few moments, MP40 wept and whimpered,
"When did you… become so cold… sen… pa…"
MP40 couldn't even finish her words before a hails of autocannon shots pierced her mechanical body and riddled her with holes. Every now and then, shots would cut straight through her and strike me as well. They hit my torso and my legs, disabling the lower half of my body - but the barrage wasn't fatal.
Thanks to MP40…
The barrage pushed her pockmarked body towards me as her non-functioning legs no longer supported her weight. The force of the barrage forced the two of us down into the thick snow.
I fell back first while the the remains of the dying MP40's body rested on top of me. Her honey brown eyes were no longer focused as oil-tainted tears streaked down her face. Blood from her bullet-riddled body wrapped me in an uncomfortable warmth as well.
Then, with the last of her strength, MP40 spoke to me in a frail whimper.
"Senpai… you were a refugee too… weren't you? I remember you - from that supply depot in S09. We were garrison dolls… scattered to the wind by Sangvis…"
The struggling doll coughed blood and oil onto the snow beside me and continued,
"I wandered around like the others… and found my way here to AW. That's where I met your 'Goddess'... the one you used to talk about all the time. She told me that you were here too… so I volunteered to join E8."
"MP40…"
"If only we… had met sooner. I could have stopped you… from falling so far..."
When MP40 said this, memories of the past battles started flooding my mind - all 188 of them. The smiles of all those MP40 units - and the faceless medley of others pierced my heart harder than anything the Jupiter Cannons had thrown at me all this time.
The Commander is the monster here…
When did I started to become like him?
All at once, I felt my hands stained with the blood and oil of every single T-Doll I sacrificed on the Commander's behalf.
Seven hundred and fifty one.
The seven hundred and fifty-second victim who protected me just now breathed her last. She protected me with her life… and offered her corpse to shield me a second time.
Knowing this, for the first time in god knows how long, I started to cry.
Then, the Jupiter Cannon shells rained down from the frigid heavens to judge me for my crimes.
[audio/video feed interrupted]
January 28, 2063 - Dawn
Recreational Quarters - Cafe Springfield
The projector screen was a display of fiery red that fizzled away into black and white static. Only trace audio tracks, obscured by FNC's heavily damaged modules, remained of what happened afterwards.
In one of those tracks, FNC kept a record of her conversation with Springfield on the helicopter back to S05 - the one that she kept a secret from WA and M14. FNC's labored remorse played on the speakers of the cafe and told WA everything she needed to know.
Then, she heard Springfield's determined promise to the Belgian.
"Save your strength. I will get to the bottom of this, FNC. I swear on my honor."
After that, even the audio tracks fell silent. That marked the end of FNC's neural cloud backup.
A grim WA stood up from her seat and wearily walked over to the projector once she realized this. She turned off the projector with a flip of a switch and then detached the wire from FNC's device.
WA held the device carefully in her hands and spoke with a tired yet determined voice,
"We've got it, Spring. This is the evidence we've been looking for. Once HQ sees this, he'll be court-marshalled for sure."
Springfield, however, didn't respond.
WA turned over to her mentor still seated on her chair in dejection. She was hanging her head low as the locks of her long, flaxen hair formed an unruly veil that covered her face.
The protege was about to call for Springfield and snap her out of her rut when she suddenly noticed tears streaking down her mentor's cheeks. Springfield's voice was rasp as she started to weep and sob bitterly.
This was nothing like the cool and composed Springfield that everyone in the station relied on and admired. Even WA, her protege, never got the chance to see the senior American doll in such a state.
The Springfield seated before her was in agony - vulnerable, frail and at a loss for what to do.
Or rather, she was in agony over how she wasn't able to help the poor Belgian doll at all up until then.
The ninety-six hours of combat data, compressed into that truncated projetor video, showed her just how much suffering she failed to prevent. Knowing this weighed heavily on her heart, and it was clear for WA to see.
Looking at Springfield in that state helped her finally understand why the adjutant kept all of those things to herself - and why she kept on working into the dead of the night.
Just like FNC, Springfield was planning to carry the burdens of the entire station on her own shoulders.
Just like FNC, Springfield was planning to wear a mask to hide the tears that she wanted to shed.
However, those burdens were breaking her back and those tears were starting to overflow.
This thought pissed WA off, but it somehow fired up her resolve.
She didn't want Springfield to break her back like this.
She didn't want to see her hide tears behind a mask either.
So, she cast caution to the wind and fearlessly approached her mentor.
Then, before Springfield could react, WA took her by the hand and raised her up from her chair.
The adjutant was surprised by WA's bold move, but she instinctively held onto her hand. She let herself be raised to stand on her two feet - then into WA's warm embrace.
"... WA-chan…"
Springfield felt WA's mechanical heart beating hard against her chest as they hugged. Somehow, her own heart started to follow the beat of her protege.
Then, after a few tender moments, WA put some distance between them and regarded her mentor's face. The German doll wore an earnest smile and wiped the new tears that were welling at the sides of Springfield's eyes.
The adjutant responded in silence, looking back at her protege with a puzzled yet affectionate gaze. In that moment, the beating of WA's heart grew faster.
Without the adjutant's mask, Springfield was incredibly beautiful in WA's eyes.
Looking into the tear-swept meadows of Springfield's green eyes ate away at the restraint that the German clung onto from the day they first met. So, spurred by the beat of her heart, WA closed her eyes and closed the distance between the two of them.
She kissed the one she admired the most.
Springfield closed her eyes and accepted WA's lips. Tears streamed down her cheeks anew, but they became tears of heartfelt joy.
It was a moment that seemed to last an eternity in their eyes and neither of them wanted to let go. However, WA broke off the kiss and faced her enamored mentor to speak,
"I love you, Spring. I don't want you to be alone anymore. I'm gonna help you bring the Commander to justice - and we're gonna save FNC from this hell she's living. Together."
A warm smile formed on Springfield's lips when she heard this. There were many things that Springfield wanted to say to answer her protege's earnest declaration. However, her voice was cracked from her crying and her neural cloud couldn't seem to formulate the words she wanted to speak.
So, Springfield simply reached over to WA's face and drew her protege closer once more. She kissed WA this time around and graciously accepted her offer.
Springfield and WA sat together on one of the loveseats of the Cafe. There, the German doll let her new lover rest on her shoulder. All the while, the two of them shared the warmth of WA's red, crochet scarf.
WA ran her hand through Springfield's flaxen hair as she softly reminisced,
"You know, Spring… I've felt this way for you ever since the day we met - but I knew that the Commander had already stolen your heart back then."
"I know…" Springfield replied as she pressed her cheek against WA's breast and listened to her beating heart, "I knew that you were watching over me. You even caught one of my trysts with… him…. when we were still in S09."
WA's probing hand stopped caressing Sprignfield's hair when she heard this. She didn't expect herself to get found out.
However, Springfield lifted her head up from WA's chest and then looked at her German lover straight in the eyes to say,
"I couldn't answer your feelings back then, but I can answer them now. Undeserving as I may be, I love you too, WA-chan."
Her bright smile, however, softened into a frown as she felt the Oath ring that she wore on her finger and said,
"How I wish the Commander never got between us…"
While Springfield was fretting about the ring, WA took her left hand and started,
"We're gonna get rid of him soon, Spring. We have the evidence we need to lock that bastard up, so let's remove this ring and…"
When WA tried to do this, however, Springfield retracted her hand and refused,
"We can't do this yet, WA-chan! If I remove this ring now, the Commander will get suspicious of us. He'll know his wife is plotting against him - and who knows what he'll do then."
The German doll impatiently pouted her lips. Seeing this, Springfield chuckled and caressed her lover's cheek to say,
"When all of this is over, we'll start our new lives together. But for now - there's still work to be done."
While Springfield was speaking, the distant sunrise over Area S05 cast light through the shuttered windows of the Cafe. That light reminded them of the task they still had at hand - and the indifference of time as it marched ever onward.
With that reminder, the lovers begrudgingly parted from each other's embrace, stood up from the loveseat and then resumed their work.
...
WA carefully held FNC's device in her hands as she dutifully packaged terabytes worth of data from the neural cloud feed. Springfield, on the other hand, brought up a hidden computer terminal behind the bar counter and prepared the data upload interface.
As the two of them hunkered down, Springfield went over their strategy one last time.
"Listen, WA-chan. As much as we would like to arrest the Commander now, we can't do it without permission from HQ. We are still Griffon T-Dolls, after all, so rules have to be obeyed. So until then, we will have to play along to his tune."
The German doll frowned. That meant that they were going to have to prepare themselves to sortie that morning - the 'final deployment' that the Commander told Springfield about last night.
One last mission, WA told herself. After that, they could get rid of the heartless demon once and for all.
After a short while, WA finished packaging the data and then joined Springfield behind the counter. She connected the device to the countertop terminal and began the upload process - a dedicated upload torrent routed directly to the office of Miss Helian herself.
The computer interface responded and began the upload process as the two watched. Springfield's tired green eyes regarded the screen and followed the progress bar with anxious anticipation.
While she was engrossed in the interface, WA supportively took Springfield's hand in hers and gave it a tender squeeze. That gesture brought a small smile to Springfield's lips as she squeezed back.
When the adjutant did so, however, WA felt the contour of the oath ring that Springfield still wore against her fingers again.
As the German was thinking about this, however, the computer terminal suddenly beeped and the upload interface started to hang. The progress bar stopped moving, stuck at 8%, and was soon covered by a strange notification.
Предупреждение!/WARNING!
Из-за опасности вируса «Parapluie» вся исходящая передача данных была ограничена для обеспечения безопасности операций. Если исходящая связь абсолютно необходима, пожалуйста, отправьте официальный запрос в офис начальника станции.
...
Due to the risk of the Parapluie virus, all outbound data transfer has been restricted for OPSEC. If an outbound communication is absolutely necessary, please submit a formal request to the office of the Station Commander.
...
Commander Elias
Epilogue
January 28, 2063 - Sunrise
Maintenance Quarters - Repair Bay
Unsettling beeps of medical equipment roused M14 from her slumber that morning. The junior American doll lifted her head up from an unfamiliar mattress and rubbed her eyes as she tried to gather her bearings.
"Ungh… where am I?"
Her bright golden eyes then started to make out the sterile white walls and floors of the repair bay and the side of the hospital bed that she had been sleeping on.
"Argh crap… I fell asleep, didn't?"
The rifle doll mused to herself with frustration as she sat upright on her folding chair and remembered why she was there.
A few hours ago, in the dead of night, M14 snuck out of the E1 dorm to pay her dearest friend a visit. Springfield already told her that they were going to be seeing each other at 0700 when the 'final deployment' was set to begin, but M14 simply couldn't wait for that.
She hadn't been able to see her friend for so long, after all. So, the twin-tailed troublemaker went over to the repair bay to check up on her partner in crime.
It took a lot of effort on M14's part to convince the professional Ribeyrolles to let her into FNC's repair bay room. However, after a lot of digital paperwork, the nurse finally let M14 in for a visit.
One hour, Ribeyrolles sternly reminded the cheerful twintail. M14 responded with a grin, shooed the nurse out of the room and then pulled up a chair by FNC's side.
However, when M14 got there, the fatigue from all of her deployments with the main combat team caught up with her and she fell asleep before she could even utter a word.
More than an hour must have passed since M14 fell asleep in that room, but Ribeyrolles apparently didn't kick her out.
That was a small relief, M14 thought. The nurse was a much kinder person than her detached expression gave off, it seemed.
Encouraged by Ribeyrolles' generosity, M14 turned to the recuperating patient lying down on the bed before her. FNC was fast asleep as the Repair Bay machines calibrated her brand new body parts and synchronized them with the Belgian's core.
Everything below her waist was replaced while the bullet holes she endured were promptly patched up with mechanical precision.
Despite the array of machines tending to her artificial body, the sleeping FNC looked like a normal girl. Her usual clothes were replaced by a hospital gown while the braid she often wore her hair in was undone.
That sight reminded M14 of the sleepover that she and FNC had on the very first day the Belgian came to the station. Since M14 ended up falling asleep by her side, the rifle doll decided to call this time their second.
It wasn't the sort of sleepover that M14 wanted to have with her dearest friend, but this was the best she could do at that point in time.
So, the junior American doll took the sleeping FNC's hand and whispered,
"Get better soon, FNC. Your War Goddess misses you already."
When M14 did this, FNC suddenly squeezed her hand. It startled the American doll at first, but it soon brought a smile to her lips.
Did FNC hear her perhaps?
M14's hopes, however, were quickly dashed against the rocks as tears suddenly started welling up in the sides of FNC's eyes. The once gentle squeezes turned into powerful, desperate grips that hurt M14's hand.
"O-ow! Hey…!"
The American gritted her teeth and yanked her hand away from FNC's grasp.
Just what in the hell was going on!?
FNC's tears started to flow down her cheeks while her inner thoughts escaped her lips,
"Springfield… oneesama…" the Belgian started painfully, begging to the absent adjutant, "You… should have… left me… there… to die…"
Fear and bewilderment gripped M14's heart. Why was FNC saying such outrageous things… and why was she calling for Springfield?
M14's brow furrowed as she tried to understand her dearest friend's cryptic words.
Before she could piece anything together, however, she heard the sliding door of the repair bay room open with a hydraulic hiss. Ribeyrolles, the nurse, then marched in and was accompanied by a cadre of medical drones.
M14 gasped when she saw the nurse and then begged her,
"Help her, Ribey-chan! FNC's hurting…!"
Ribeyrolles nodded and then promptly urged,
"I understand, mademoiselle M14. Please leave the room for now. I have work to do here - and I'm telling you now that it won't be pleasant."
M14 nodded in response and marched out of the room with a heavy heart. However, as she reached the threshold, the nurse called out to her again,
"Don't go to far, though, mademoiselle. I've been tasked to conduct a station-wide check up. Since you're already here, I'll finish your check up first."
The junior American turned to the nurse and asked with a puzzled tone,
"A station-wide checkup? Now? We're about to be deployed to Area AW again… we don't have time for that…"
Ribeyrolles let her drones tend to FNC ahead of her while she stayed to face M14. The nurse then spoke plainly,
"These are orders from le monseuir Commandant himself. He believes that some of our dolls may be compromised by a Sangvis Ferri virus - the same one that took out members of the legendary Anti-Rain team."
M14's heart sank as she realized what the nurse was talking about. The name of the virus then escaped her lips,
"Parapluie…"
To Be Continued