A/N: Here we go! Two of my favorite, yet not-so-widely written series combined into one little crossover. Do let me know what you think!
Strokes of Fortune
Chapter 1 - The Foreigner
"If we move now, we'll be going against orders!"
He noted the protest, ignored it, and continued with his current course of action.
"Leader, please listen!"
Despite only recently arriving to take control, he'd already gained many loyal followers. It made his job easier, but his preferred manner of leadership also allowed for his subordinates to voice their opinions. Which they were doing so rather generously at the moment.
Still, they deserved an answer.
"I'll take full responsibility." He said flatly, "If they want to charge anyone with insubordination, or even treason, only I'll be at risk."
His words had silenced them. Most were shocked, and many had expressions of protest. He kept speaking.
"To them, we're foot soldiers, meant to be used as needed so that they can achieve their own objectives. But ask yourselves now, what's our objective?"
He looked around. His question had caught them off guard.
"It's survival, isn't it? We fight to survive, to live, to...exist." He frowned at that point, "It's not that sacrifices aren't necessary, but we have the right to decide when they are. I've decided. Our orders...our sacrifices...aren't necessary for the success of this operation. They just want us to foot the bill so they don't have to."
He could see realization dawning on them. They were his people. He'd sworn an oath to protect them, but he'd also sworn to lead them.
"I reject that. The mission will be accomplished, but on our terms. Understood?"
The silence was brief. He knew he'd convinced them, the fire in their eyes was only the most obvious indicator. Their voices called out in assent.
And as one, they vowed to follow him no matter where his path leads them.
Always onward.
"Hey, at least you're hitting 40% accuracy consistently now! Cheer up, would ya?"
Tactical Doll UMP-40 was doing her utmost to cheer up her disheartened sister, Tactical Doll UMP-45.
"I haven't been able to pass 45% yet..."
"Look, you haven't backslid for almost a week! That's progress, okay? Now, we'll work on increasing your overall accuracy, but remember that consistency is just as important!"
It was a rather common routine between the two outcast T-Dolls. They were alone in the drill hall, having come early enough so that they wouldn't disturb the more "proper" Griffon & Kryuger T-Doll's training.
At a glance, the two truly did look like real human sisters in both face and body despite their artificial origins. The main differences between them consisted of their attire and the shades of their hair.
40 was slightly taller, wearing a slim green jacket over a black jersey and skirt; her long legs covered by black leggings and gray military shoes on her feet. Her equipment consisted of a large hand radio, a backpack, and of course, her namesake gun, the UMP-40. Unlike her more withdrawn sister, her face gave off an air of cheerfulness, her light olive green eyes framed by long locks of faded green-gray hair complete with a black ribbon as a hairband.
45 wore an oversized black hoodie paired with a matching skirt, both with yellow highlights; underneath that hoodie was a white buttoned shirt and a black tactical vest that displayed the word "Griffon". Around her neck was a black scarf or bandanna, on her legs she wore black leggings. 45 had a more timid demeanor, soft golden eyes stood out from a face that gave only small smiles in contrast to the wide grins of her older sister. 45's long hair was a faded brown in color, with some of it tied into a side-ponytail of sorts.
The both of them were T-dolls assigned to the private military contractor, Griffon & Kryuger, or G&K for short. However, due to the way they were built, they had mostly useless electronic warfare modules installed that lessened the space available for their combat programs. G&K primarily used T-dolls as small arms combatants, so their lack of proper combat systems made them less valuable in the eyes of many G&K officers.
UMP-45 was naturally drawn to the more senior UMP-40, who had more time to acclimatize to their new home. While 40 was more than happy to have someone to connect and interact with and the two became nearly inseparable.
"..." 45 glared balefully at her score for a few more moments before sighing, "You're right. I'll just have to keep trying."
"Yup! And next I'll share some of my data on dynamic aiming. This'll help you acquire targets more quickly and efficiently during the active drills. I struggled with it a lot, so you'd better be thankful!" 40 threw an arm around 45's shoulder, rocking them back and forth energetically.
"I'm always grateful, 40." 45's face turned a bit red, her voice only a little higher than a whisper.
"Hehe, that's right! Now, let's get something to eat!" 40 gave her shoulder one last squeeze, before pointing to the exit.
"Wait, we should clean up first..." 45 objected, indicating towards the bullet riddled targets and spent casings. Their training was split between both virtual drills and live-fire exercises, this morning they'd done the latter.
"Che~" 40 gave a fake pout, pursing her lips cutely, "Leave it to the cleaners! It's not like anyone else cleans up after themselves..."
"I don't want to be a bother..." 45's expression turned more somber. 40 frowned at that. She'd been trying to raise the girl's self-esteem ever since they first met, but it was definitely still a work in progress. The only problem was that it wasn't only the drill instructor they reported to, no one at G&K seemed to care much for either of them.
But...is she considering herself lower than even janitorial staff or A-Dolls? They'd just be doing their jobs...
"...Okay." 40 exhaled, her cheeriness diminished a little. It would take little steps to improve 45's mental state, she just had to be patient, "Let's get cracking then. I'm starving!"
But before they could begin the cleanup, there was the sound of someone entering the drill hall. Once they turned and saw who'd come in, the two T-doll's hearts dropped. It was the drill instructor that commanded them.
His face registered mild surprise at seeing the two of them, before morphing into a sneer that either conveyed disgust or contempt, 40 didn't know which. His expression might've been schooled to attempt to intimidate others, but his greasy and rather unattractive visage instead reminded most people of a pig with indigestion. Regardless of how hopeless his facade was, his appearance still affected the two of them.
Almost immediately, 40 could feel 45 withdrawing deeper into her shell, causing her to feel a flash of uncharacteristic anger. Both 40 and 45 had faced his disparaging rage and roaring bluster when they hadn't performed as well as he believed they should've. They'd drilled harder and more often than anyone else, but it was never enough for that man. Eventually, he'd given up on them, despite the fact they still wanted to get better, and he'd reversed course, ridiculing them whenever he saw them trying to train.
40 had little faith in her superiors, and her drive to improve now stemmed mostly from personal motivation. As a result, it was easier for her to shrug off the dismissive attitude of the human commanders. But 45 wanted to be important to them, to be a proper member of a team with a commander that relied on her. She was much more vulnerable to his hatred due to that.
40 hadn't actually met too many humans, but she did know that she detested the man that was now approaching them. It was outright hypocrisy to first treat them like trash because they couldn't improve despite their efforts, and then switch to belittling them for still trying in the end.
"I don't know why you wastes of materials even show up here anymore." The man's arrogant voice broke the silence once he'd come close enough; he glanced at the spent shells and used targets, "And now you're using up our live ammunition too?"
"U-Um..." 45 quailed under the man's glare, unable to meet his eyes.
"We have proper authorization, sir." 40 said, her voice straining against the border of proper respect towards a superior.
"Hmph," he snorted, "You should know when something's worth doing and when it's a waste of time. You've been here long enough, after all. Your performance on missions is average at best, and 45 hasn't been on a single operation. Doesn't that mean anything to either of you?"
45 seemed to be shrinking smaller and smaller, while 40 ground her teeth in anger. But they couldn't speak up. This man had direct command authorization over them, and they weren't permitted to openly argue against anything he said or did.
Their one-sided face-off was broken by the sound of a yawn followed by another voice chiming in.
"Fuah~...Now, now. This all sounds a bit harsh to me." The three of them wheeled around to face the newcomer, who approached from the direction of the break area located towards the far corner of the drill hall.
His appearance surprised all three of them. The first impression they got was that of a vagabond or wanderer. The newcomer was a man that wore a ragged cloak made of thick white cloth, stained with age and use. He had a matching scarf and a strange round hat. He was tan, much more than any Eastern European would be, probably of Mediterranean descent. He was young-looking, early-to-mid twenties, with spiky hair that was a bit longer than average for a man, tied into a small sharp ponytail. His expression was relaxed, loose even, but there was a deeper layer to his expression that 40 couldn't quite discern.
"What the...who the hell are you?" The drill instructor glared at the interloper, "How'd you get in here?"
"I've been here since last night...?" He looked at the drill instructor like he was crazy, which only served to infuriate the blowhard. The stranger then pointed towards the break area, "I have to say, those benches aren't very comfortable for sleeping. I'd rather be camping outdoors, to be honest."
He was here the whole time...? How? I feel like I should've noticed...wait, why's he acting like he just woke up? There's no way he slept through our drills...
"H-How-, who do you think-, just what-!?" The drill commander had lost his composure, blustering rather than giving a proper response. It was an amusing sight to 40.
She also idly noted that the commander was angered over the lack of deference the stranger was displaying, while he should've been concerned over the fact that a stranger was somehow within the G&K facilities unsupervised. It spoke a lot to her about the priorities that their commander had.
"More importantly, I see you don't seem to think very highly of these two..." The stranger gestured airily at 40 and 45.
Happy to have something he could easily talk about, the commander nodded heftily in agreement while the dolls shrunk back in shame, "They're absolutely worthless. Even if they manage to consistently get passable performance records, which I highly doubt, the cost of fielding them would probably be more than any profit or benefit we could squeeze out of them."
"Hmm, is that so..." The man turned to look at the two in question. His expression was neutrally blank, but his eyes shined with...mischievousness? 40 wasn't quite sure, but she was certainly confused at the friendliness he conveyed, "Then, how about you give them to me?"
The sheer absurdity combined with the absolute seriousness in his tone caused the drill instructor to stumble once again, "Wha-! These two are G&K property! And my responsibility! You think I could just give them away!?"
On 40's and 45's part, they had to stop their jaws from dropping in disbelief. This stranger had asked to take ownership of them? Two underperforming T-dolls? Just like that?
"Okay, okay," The stranger held up his hands to stop the verbal tirade, before squinting at the instructors's uniform, "My bad...um...Master Sergeant."
The drill instructor looked happy to have his real rank acknowledged (He was a senior Drill Instructor, after all), but that changed to shock as the stranger continued talking and gesturing.
"I just thought you might be pretty busy so I could take them off of your hands," The stranger reached up to rub the back of his neck, almost purposefully shifting his rough cloak aside and displaying what he was wearing underneath it.
It was an immaculate G&K officer's uniform. His "innocent" gesture also highlighted the rank emblem emblazoned on his shoulders. It was that small embroidered insignia that everyone's eyes were drawn to. It denoted that he was a senior Field Commander of G&K, which in standard military terms would range from Captain to Major in rank. The surprise felt by everyone present was almost tangible in the air. The contrast between how they perceived him a few seconds earlier and how they saw him now was just as large as the contrast between the dirty rags he wore and the pristine uniform underneath them.
"Are you sure you require these two for your tasking?" He asked the instructor once again.
"U-Uh...On second thought, perhaps I could arrange to have them transferred to you." The lower-ranked man's tone had become much more respectful. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his already greasy face.
"No no, I wouldn't want to waste your time like that. You can just do a verbal transfer, I'll take care of any paperwork." The stranger, for all intents and purposes, sounded friendly, but 40 realized that he'd been in control of the conversation from the start. A lowly drill instructor couldn't afford to risk annoying a Field Commander.
She also knew that a verbal transfer was extraordinarily uncommon, both because of informality and lack of documentation. She couldn't even begin to guess why he'd requested one, especially for dolls like them. But she wasn't about to complain.
"Ah...well...I suppose it's fine..." The drill commander hesitated for a few moments before making up his mind, then turned to the dolls, "UMP-45, and UMP-40, I'm transferring command authorization for both of you to Field Commander...?"
"My mistake, my name's Amar. A-M-A-R" He made a complicated expression, as if something about his name bothered him.
"To Field Commander Amar. I hereby release you from any responsibility to me as a superior officer." He stopped, his old sneer returning, "...Perform your new duties well."
"Understood!" "U-Understood!"
The dolls were having a hard time keeping up with the rapid turn of events.
All of a sudden there was a Field Commander who had an eye on them? And he immediately became their superior? What was going on?
"Field Commander, are you sure you want these two? I can recommend some other very capable dolls." The drill commander knew that good reviews of dolls that he'd trained could lead to promotions in the future, but to him, the idea of 40 or 45 performing well was quite alien.
"Yes, that'll be all." Amar sounded bored now, as if everything exciting had already come to pass, "I'm sure you'll be occupied with today's schedule, so I don't want to get in your way anymore."
It was a polite, but firm, dismissal. The drill instructor didn't move for a few seconds, took a few uncertain steps towards the exit, then stopped to shoot a glare at the sisters that said "don't you dare embarrass me", and continued out of the room.
The drill hall lapsed into silence as Field Commander Amar and the two dolls observed one another.
45 was nervous, keeping her head down, but her expression contained an emotion she hadn't felt in some time: Hope. Was this commander going to give them a chance to be useful? She truly, dearly, wished that that would be the case.
40 was a bit more wary, as she couldn't gauge what the man's intentions were. And, secretly, she also knew at least some of the truths concerning her and 45's origins; some of the reasons behind why they were different from the standard T-doll. Still, a small part of her carried the same hope 45 currently felt, but it was tempered by the worry that this man might be part of a sort of greater plot that placed them at G&K in the first place.
Both dolls knew and agreed on one thing though: The G&K staff they were familiar with well and truly cared nothing for them. A verbal transfer done on the spur of the moment was near unheard of, not to mention it was a gross breach in protocol. The fact that their drill instructor had handed them over so easily was because he really didn't care, and probably saw it as an opportunity to do a favor for a higher, albeit misguided (from his point of view), ranking officer. The last nail in the coffin was that he had done it so quickly that he probably didn't even consider the fact that another superior could reprimand him for not following protocol. Were they that distant from being worthy of consideration?
Amar glanced at the exit the jerk had left through, before sighing softly, "Those guys really don't give a damn about you two, do they?"
His words stung, much more than when those words had stayed within their thoughts. They fought down flushes as they realized their new commander had come to the same conclusions they had in only a few moments.
"I'm not sure I even like Griffon & Kryuger yet...and that guy really didn't help. Please tell me they're not all like that," Their new commander grinned in what was most likely an attempt to lighten the mood. However, the dolls just tilted their heads in puzzlement.
"Um, sir, aren't you a Field Commander here? What do you mean by that?" 45 asked tentatively.
"Well now, I'm glad you asked, UMP-45!" His grin widened, before he abruptly launched into an over-dramatic story, surprising the dolls, "I'm actually new here. I'm also pretty awesome though, so I got this neat uniform and rank. I can tell you more about that later though, first you gotta hear this. You see, I just got here late last night. And while I didn't have any trouble getting past the security dolls, there wasn't anyone to show me to the dorms! Can you believe that? Now, I do like to be proactive, and I wasn't too tired yet, so I decided 'Hey, let's get familiar with my new home'."
He paused emphatically, making an aggrieved face.
"It's horrible, absolutely horrible, how lax security past the front door is. I'm pretty sure I found the main data storage facilities, and there wasn't a single guard! Anyways, I walked around for a little bit, and by the time I reached this drill hall I was pretty tired. So I decided to go to sleep. Really, that was a mistake, those benches are hard, way too hard to sleep on..."
He let out a groan of pain after he finished speaking, rubbing his lower back tenderly.
40 and 45 were more than a little flabbergasted. They hadn't expected the first Field Commander they'd ever met to be such an oddly blasé individual. His abruptly dramatic manner and overtly grumpy glare at the benches, combined with all the fast-paced absurdity that they'd witnessed this morning pushed 45 to the limit: she let out a soft giggle. Whether it was at him, or at the situation, even she didn't know.
"There!" Amar exclaimed, pointing at 45, who looked mortified at the breach of conduct, "That's the face I wanted to see. Girls should be smiling, not frowning."
The two of them weren't sure what to say to that. They looked at each other for a brief moment, before silently returning their attention to him.
"Ah. Unless I specifically say otherwise you have permission to speak freely to me, by the way." He added when he saw that they were very, very lost in the current situation.
"Then...who are you, Field Commander?" 40 asked immediately. It was a blunt question despite her respectful tone, but he didn't seem to mind at all.
"Right, I'm sure you're both pretty confused by now." Amar paused for a second, "I'm a fresh-from-the-field Commander that Director Kryuger just brought in. It's a bit of a long story, but essentially he recruited me after seeing me in action. Like I said, I promise to give you the full story later."
"Why did you choose us?" 45 nearly blurted out the question, but managed to keep it at the tone of a proper inquiry.
"Hmm, would you believe me if I said I was impressed by your skills?" At their skeptical expressions he laughed, "Haha, the truth is I know a little bit about you two and your...unique circumstances."
40's eyes widened, while 45 still looked confused.
"So let's just say I believe that there's more to a T-doll than just their ability to shoot a gun...like I said, I can tell you more later. But for now, I need to go visit Director Kryuger."
Mystified, the two girls watched as Amar turned to head to the door. He took a few steps, paused, smiled sheepishly at them, and then went over to the benches where he claimed he'd slept. He hefted an old-looking rucksack onto his shoulders, then returned to heading for the exit. He stopped when he realized they were only standing still, watching him.
"Uh...are you two coming?" He asked, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.
Surprised that he wanted them to accompany him to a meeting with the Director rather than dismissing them, they recovered and quickly came into step behind him.
As they stared at his back while they walked, the two wayward dolls felt a strange sense of security. Despite any misgivings they might've had, it wasn't a bad feeling at all.
Both newly transferred T-dolls regretted getting swept along with the flow so easily. They regretted it very much.
They'd only seen him in pictures, but Director Kryuger was easily the most intimidating man they'd ever met. Seeing him in person made it feel like their mechanical hearts were going to stop.
It didn't help at all that their new commander had all but barged into the Director's office after only a short knock on the door.
"Good Morning, Director!" Amar's voice was energetic and crisp, but seemed to lack the discipline that was supposed to be behind a proper greeting.
Director Kryuger looked up from the papers he'd been reading at his desk, a mug of steaming hot coffee on the desk next to him. His expression was inscrutable, stern, and aged, while his voice was steely and controlled. He also wore a G&K uniform, but whereas Amar's uniform made him look both lean and crisp, Kryuger's made him look large and powerful.
"Commander Amar..." The Director's eyebrow twitched upwards, most likely the only expression of mild surprise they'd ever get from him, "I wasn't expecting you until after my morning coffee."
"I woke up early," The commander replied simply, as if that explained everything.
"Noted," Kryuger turned his terrifying gaze on the hapless T-dolls, "I see you've brought guests. Tactical Dolls UMP-40 and UMP-45, I believe."
The two in question were pretty sure that their hearts did, in fact, stop for at least several seconds. The Director knew who they were?
"That's right, sir." Amar confirmed, now standing at ease in front of the Director's desk, "I had the pleasure of seeing them in action during one of their extra drills this morning."
"You rate their abilities highly?" Kryuger asked, his tone not giving away any thoughts he might've had about them.
"I do." Amar nodded, surprising them greatly.
40 wasn't sure if he was outright lying to the Director, or if Amar truly believed in what he'd said. 45 felt a spike of happiness, but managed to keep her calm.
"But that's not the whole picture." Kryuger stated, not asked.
"No, I have a personal interest as well. They're unique T-dolls, and I think I'd be able to learn much from them." Amar replied. The words didn't mean much to the two dolls aside from expressing that Amar valued them somehow, but Kryuger seemed to find a different meaning within his words.
"I see." Kryuger acknowledged, before changing the subject, "I don't believe you appeared in the dormitory registry when I checked this morning."
To the dolls' surprise, Amar launched into a retelling of his tale in almost the same exact manner he'd done when he'd first told them. They stopped themselves from gaping openly, but couldn't suppress a hint of fear at the carefree manner that Amar was addressing Kryuger with.
"I'll have someone take you to your quarters after this, then," was Kryuger's only response, much to the nervous dolls' relief.
"Great!"
"Now, concerning the work I gave you before you arrived here..." Kryuger trailed off vaguely, fixing Amar with a focused stare. The atmosphere grew more serious, making the dolls wonder what kind of 'work' Kryuger was referring to.
"I have some more information concerning that," Amar reached into his bag and pulled out a standard-looking flash drive, "Please review it carefully."
"Good. Then you're dismissed for now. You've been entered into the database properly, and your profile has been updated with your current rank. Wait outside until your escort arrives." Kryuger gave a sharp nod as he took the item in question, "I look forward to seeing your efforts as a new Commander."
"Thank you." Amar gave his own nod in return. Gesturing for 45 and 40 to follow, the three of them exited the office neatly, leaving behind a stoically thoughtful Director.
40 and 45 gave a deep breath of relief once they were out. The meeting had been completely unexpected from their point of view, and had left them with burning curiosity towards the man that they were now under. What kind of person was he? How did he know the Director so personally? Was he skilled? Did he really want rejected T-dolls like them under his command?
"Field Commander Amar, sir, do you- *ahem* - Do you know the Director well?" 45 asked, still anxious in her new commander's presence. The trio stood talking in a hallway, a little further down from the Director's office.
"No need to be so nervous. You can call me Commander, or even just Amar, if you want to." Amar said kindly, "And to answer your question, I didn't meet him all that long ago, but we have a sort of understanding between us."
There was no way they'd call him by his name without a title, but his words did get them to ease up a little bit. He didn't really answer the question, though, but neither of them were going to push the issue.
"Are you from around here?" 40 stepped up with her own question.
"Not at all, for most of my time on this fine wreck of a planet, I've been living in the territory of what used to be called Turkey." He smirked lightly as he gave her a reply. The phrasing of his answer was odd, but they didn't comment on it.
"Oh, the old Republic of Turkey. That area isn't very safe, right?" 40 furrowed her brow as she processed the data stored in her digimind, "Lots of infected zones and constant fighting between different factions, I think. G&K has turned down several contracts to establish a branch there."
"That's right. It's not as bad as it used to be though, so who knows what could happen?" Amar shrugged, looking impressed that 40 knew about a region that was relatively far from where they were now.
"You must have a pretty good record if the Director was willing to take you in as a Field Commander right away," 40 pointed out, trying to learn more about Amar, "Were you a soldier there?"
"Nothing like that. I just tried to keep the people around me safe, I owed them that much at least." Amar's eyes became distant, "Of course, sometimes you had to fight to survive. In a place like that, a rule like 'might makes right' isn't so rare."
"So you trained militia forces?"
"Kind of."
"Did you have a job title or anything?"
"Not really."
"Are you Turkish, then?"
"Who can say?"
"Jeez~!" 40 pouted, giving a little stamp with her foot, "Commander, you've been so vague ever since this morning...!"
45 looked genuinely surprised that her big sister was acting up in front of the commander, but it wasn't like she didn't understand. He just seemed so different from all the other human staff they'd met so far that they didn't know how to behave, not to mention he did give them permission to speak freely...
This really has been the weirdest day of their lives so far.
Amar broke into a hearty laugh at 40's mini-tantrum, "Finally loosened up a little huh?"
40 flushed with embarrassment in response, "It's just...you're too weird..."
He only smiled in response, before turning to 45, "And how about you? The quieter one. Do I scare you?"
"I-I don't know..." 45 flushed just as red as her sister did due to his scrutiny, "But I...I think you might be a good commander..."
"Why, thank you," Amar placed a hand on her shoulder, his next words addressed at both of them, "I'll do my best to be a good commander. I do have a range of skills, but I've never commanded T-dolls before. I might make mistakes. But one thing that I believe in is that a leader and his subordinates should always have a two-way relationship. You both help me and in return I'll always try to do my best on your behalf too."
"Um..." 45 and 40 hadn't been expecting him to be so candid with them, but they couldn't help but feel happy at his words.
"Thanks!" "Thank you, commander!"
"I guess I also owe both of you an explanation for everything that's going on." Amar frowned thoughtfully. 40 perked up immediately, while 45 just looked mildly interested, "Everything that's happened today must feel pretty abrupt. Let's wait until we're in a more private setting though."
The two dolls nodded; despite their budding trust him him, their curiosity hadn't diminished at all.
"...Hello..." A soft, monotone voice called out to the three of them. They turned to see a rather short girl with messy white hair and a strange blue uniform that resembled a hospital smock calling out to them. But the most unique thing about her was the blood(?) bag hanging at her side.
Amar took the lead, taking a step forward "Hey there, what do you need?"
"I'm Ribeyrolles..." The girl spoke slowly, as if she wasn't quite fully awake, "Commander Kryuger told me to show you to your new room..."
'A T-doll under Kryuger's direct command?' All three of them had similar thoughts as they examined the girl in front of them.
"Oh, we were waiting for you." Amar nodded amiably, "I'm Field Commander Amar, and this is UMP-45 and UMP-40. Please, lead the way."
"...Nice to meet you. Please follow me..." Ribeyrolles returned the nod in acknowledgment. To a casual observer she would appear tired and distant but, in fact, she was quite curious about the new, very foreign-looking commander.
They walked in silence, 40 and 45 keeping quiet due to the presence of a stranger, while Amar seemed to be thinking about something. Ribeyrolles was the one to speak up first, addressing the sisters, "Do you two...need rooms too?"
45 looked down at the ground, while 40 grimaced, "Thanks, but we've been here for a while now."
Ribeyrolles sensed their drop in mood and quickly apologized, "I'm sorry...I don't get to walk around much...my body isn't suited for battle..."
"Oh?" Amar looked at her more closely, "But you're still a fully-fledged T-doll, right?"
"Yes...but I require a lot of maintenance, and they say my performance doesn't justify the cost...I have trouble focusing sometimes and I get dizzy easily." The slow-speaking girl's voice didn't change much, but she sounded a little forlorn to the others, "But...I help Director Kryuger around the base, so at least I can be a little useful..."
"I see..." Amar fell silent, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
40 and 45 were surprised to learn that there were other T-dolls that had issues similar to theirs, and felt a small sense of kinship with the girl.
"Have...have you been here long?" 45 asked quietly.
"A few months..."
"Been on any missions?" 40 was scrutinizing the quiet doll more closely than before.
"Some patrols...but no combat."
"How'd you do in drills?"
"I did alright...but I don't have a lot of stamina...and also...my gun...it isn't the best." Ribeyrolles gave a short sigh. The other dolls looked confused at that, but Amar seemed to know what she was talking about.
"I'm surprised any of them even exist nowadays, let alone having one on hand and getting a chance to imprint a doll on them." Amar commented, rejoining the conversation.
"They wanted to...test a lot of different guns with T-dolls...so they made a better version of my gun...even though it's old." Ribeyrolles explained, "But...it's still not that good..."
"I bet you're pretty skilled with it regardless, right?" Amar smiled encouragingly.
"It's my programmed gun. It...works, sometimes," was her simple reply. It was easy to see that she doubted her own skills.
UMP-45 and UMP-40 hadn't really thought about the dolls who had to use strange or unconventional weapons. Their SMG's were well-made and widely popular. Despite the fact that those particular guns were chosen for them due to the low storage usage of their respective etching programs, the guns themselves were refined models, built from many decades of experience creating firearms. On the other hand, the Ribeyrolles 1918 Automatic Carbine had been a prototype weapon that never saw service, and failed its tests horribly.
"If you're able, do you want to maybe join us for training sometimes?" 45 invited, giving the smaller girl a shy smile. 40 looked at her in shock, before grinning happily.
My little sister is just the sweetest thing!
"I...I will try. Thank you." Ribeyrolles looked stunned, but replied with her own shy smile. To hide her embarrassment she returned her attention to the route they were taking, "Oh, we're here..."
They came up to an empty office with an attached living area with a small slot next to the door for a nameplate. Ribeyrolles reached into the folds of her uniform and pulled out a small plate that read "AMAR" on it and put it in place. She then pulled out a key and handed it to the commander.
"There." Ribeyrolles gave a remarkably crisp salute, before her posture slackened once more, "I'll see you later...hopefully."
"Thank you," Amar returned the salute, 40 and 45 mirroring him right after. They watched as the lethargic girl made her way back the way they came until she was out of sight, "Now, let's check my new office out. Oh, by the way, where are your dorms? I'd like to get an idea of frequented locations on base."
"We're in the T-doll dormitories, in the 2nd wing. This is the 1st wing, for officers and other important G&K personnel. The 3rd wing is for non-essential human personnel. I'm in room 405, and 45 is next to me in room 404." 40 explained.
"Got it, thanks for the information." Using the key he'd received, Amar unlocked the door and opened it, "Alright then, let's see what we've got.."
The office was rather ordinary, with a desk towards the back and a sitting area with some couches and chairs. Some shelves lined the walls, and the office was lit through a large window on the far wall.
"Hmm...not bad, not bad at all." Amar spotted some cheap instant coffee on one of the shelves, along with a water heater and mugs, "Either of you know how to prepare coffee?"
"We've both had to make it for other people before..." 45 answered first, her voice quiet once more.
"Apparently it's a more 'efficient' use of our time," 40 added acidly.
"Oh..." Amar hesitated.
Realizing she came across as hostile to the idea, 40 hastily corrected herself, "Ah, it's only because they made us go do errands during our allotted training time, Commander."
"Hmm, then I agree, that's not a very good use of your time, huh?" Amar remarked, "Well if you don't mind, why don't you two prepare some coffee for the three of us while I go set this bag down and settle in to my personal quarters?"
"For us too?" 40 wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.
"Hm? Why not? Do you not like coffee?"
"No it's just...it's yours..."
"Is that all? Jeez, I don't mind at all, so help yourselves." Amar patted both of them on their shoulders before entering his quarters through a door on the side.
Once he was out of sight and the door audibly closed, 40 turned to 45, "Pretty crazy day already, eh?"
"I'm a little dizzy..." 45 slumped, "So much happened..."
"I'll take this commander over our previous one, though. 100%." 40 glanced at 45 inquiringly with an unspoken question.
"Yeah, me too." 45 smiled, "He seems nice."
"Mm-hmm," 40 nodded, "He's definitely more polite. But I've got a lot of questions for him."
"He's a mystery." 45 agreed.
They fell silent as they prepared 3 mugs of coffee. Authentic coffee was a rarity nowadays, and even cheap instant coffee could be difficult to find, so they were warmed by the fact that the Commander seemed to think nothing of sharing it with them.
They'd seen what lack of coffee could do to the average human, and it wasn't pretty.
A few minutes later Amar returned from his quarters. After a moment of conversation, they settled into the soft sofas, coffee sitting on the aptly-named coffee table. The two sisters sat next to one another, with Amar sitting across from them.
"Sorry to keep delaying my wonderful tale, but before we begin there's one thing I want to do." Amar began, eyeing them with earnest seriousness. The girls looked at one another, and with a mutual mental shrug waited expectantly for him to continue, "Tactical Dolls UMP-40 and UMP-45, I'm setting your individual autonomy to unrestricted, permanently. As long as I am to be recognized as your immediate superior, that setting cannot be changed by myself or others. Please confirm if that change is successful."
Out of all the shocks that had hit them so far, this one had to be the most jarring. In fact, they openly gaped (maybe not for the first time today) at his words.
T-dolls were designed to be flexible, and that extended to the level of direct control that a buyer wanted to exert over them. Most military-grade dolls were under heavy restriction due to the roles they played as simple manpower replacements, while more informal or fluid organizations like PMC's allowed limited autonomy. But even among civilians, it was rare to see unrestricted autonomy in use, due to the fact that aside from some measure of natural loyalty towards a given superior, the relationship between the T-doll and their superior under "unrestricted autonomy" turns into one more resembling a human boss and human employee; a relationship that was typically undesirable given the ideas and doctrines behind T-doll manufacturing.
"A-Ah...umm..." 40 quickly checked her own settings, "Command autonomy level change successful, level set to...unrestricted."
"Same..." 45's eyes were as wide as saucers.
"Great! Now that that's taken care of-"
"Wait, wait! Commander, why would you do that?" 40 interrupted him, internally taking a moment to marvel that there was no resistance from within her programming to do so.
"Hm?"
"Come on, you just met us! You don't even know how well we perform, what kind of dolls we are...or anything!" 40 gestured with more than a little agitation.
"Well, that's a bit wrong, I did say I knew a little bit about you two beforehand," Amar smirked before becoming serious again, "The main answer is simple though. I want you two to trust me of your own accord, and I want to be someone who has properly earned that level of trust. Like I said before, I believe a superior and subordinate should have a two-way relationship, and that's not as possible when one side is being forced in any way rather than of their own will."
Both dolls were speechless. But the happiness that bubbled up from within was indescribable. By that action alone, by granting them the ability to make decisions of their own accord, he has cemented himself as someone that they could follow, no matter what. They both knew they weren't exactly knowledgeable, and hadn't met many other command staff members, but they would both bet that the man sitting in front of them was something special.
"I-I could reject every order you give me from now on," 40 pointed out shakily.
"I hope the orders I give aren't that bad," Amar responded immediately.
"I could do it just out of spite!"
"Then that's my mistake, not yours."
"I...I...don't know what to say..." 40 fell silent.
"Um, Commander... Thank you." 45's statement was simple, but the heartfelt gratitude she was experiencing was on full display.
The key outcome that 40 picked up on (she wasn't sure if 45 realized it too) was that as long as the Commander himself didn't give up his position as their superior, they were essentially protected from anyone else at G&K. It wouldn't work in the military, but for G&K's organizational structure the T-dolls really only answered to their direct superior. Of course, they'd listen if the Director told them to do something, but if another order from their own commander countermanded that, they'd go with what their commander ordered. It was risky, but the logic was that PMC's like G&K had to split up often and were typically integrated into other entities' command structures. With Commander Amar's actions, that relationship was now cemented as fact, rather than as an informal byproduct of G&K's organizational structure.
In short, for almost all intents and purposes, their freedom was assured unless Amar purposefully resigned his authority as their commander.
That made 45 happy, but for 40, it meant the world. For 40, who'd been desperately trying to learn the truth and stop whatever insidious plan that revolved around them, it was an ultimate boon. It was at this moment that 40 decided what she would do. To return the trust that this strange man had already placed in them. It was what would guide her words and actions in the next few minutes.
Amar gave the two dolls in front him some more seconds to compose themselves.
It was a risky gamble, giving them unrestricted autonomy, but he really didn't care.
He didn't agree with the way T-dolls were treated, though perhaps that was only natural given who he was.
Now, how to proceed from here?
"It's just how I like to operate." He smiled, waving down their awe-filled expressions, "So, I believe we're here to talk about you two."
He sat up straighter, ready to talk business. The dolls followed suit.
"What do you want to know?" 40 slipped into a professional demeanor right away. 45 sat back, content to listen to the two people she'd come to respect talk things out.
"That's just it, I don't really know yet." Amar grinned, "Let's establish some common ground here. I'm aware that you two have had issues because you have unique electronic warfare modules installed, but both of you have also shown improvement in combat drills through hard work and usage of your memory and experience storage capabilities. Essentially, because you weren't given a head start by having combat programs installed, you've had to learn much like a human would have."
"That's...wow, I never really thought about it like that," 40 adopted a thoughtful expression, "But you're right so far."
"Great. Now, the real question is why you were designed or manufactured this way." Amar let some steel show in his expression, "I'm inclined to think there's a deeper reason for it than just an outdated design idea. Your thoughts on this?"
Feeling her heart beat faster, 40 understood that this was the moment whether she could lie or finally tell her story. But 40 had already decided by this point to tell him everything she knew, "I think both I and 45 were planted here by another party for an unknown reason as of now. I can only guess why, but most likely we're supposed to break or hack into another organization or group's security system. It's confusing though, I don't know whether it's to support or to sabotage G&K's goals. Or whether we're going to be used to target one of G&K's clients..."
To her, it just didn't make sense to have such a specifically designed cyber-warfare system in place unless there was a particular target in mind. Upon some research during her own time, she'd reached her own conclusions, and they had chilled her to the bone.
45 looked shaken by what she'd just heard, but calmed down a little when 40 took her hand comfortingly.
"That lines up with my information so far." Amar looked unfazed and nodded thoughtfully, "I might have some answers for you in a second. Before that, do you have any other info?"
40 paused, giving 45's hand a nervous squeeze and receiving one in return, "Sir...whatever plans those people had for us, I think I was supposed to be their primary tool. 45 is just a backup. I...we have the same digimind base, they didn't even bother making another one. It- It feels like we're supposed to be disposable..."
45 gave a small gasp, her and 40's hands tightening into a vice-like grip. Things were becoming a little clearer for the younger T-Doll. She began to visualize the full situation, which highlighted the actions that 40 had been taking. Their connection protocols, permissions management...40 had been setting herself up to shield her.
"..." Amar frowned, and 40 was surprised to see a flash of anger in his eyes before he relaxed and gave them a reassuring smile, "Whatever their intentions were, that doesn't change the fact that you two are now my comrades. UMP-40 and UMP-45 both, each as your own individual person."
They could only nod gratefully in response, choking up at his words.
"That's...all I know so far." 40 said once her voice was steady again.
"Got it. Thank you for trusting me with that," Amar nodded encouragingly before he took a deep breath, "So, I believe I can at least find the answer to your mysterious origins."
"How?" 40 tilted her head curiously, 45 doing the same non-verbally.
Much to the dolls' interest, Commander Amar looked slightly uncomfortable for the first time since they'd met him this morning. He'd been composed throughout all their interactions so far, so much so that they'd been beginning to wonder if he ever lost his cool.
"I have access to a certain program, a data retrieval program." Amar began, before shaking his head wryly, "Okay, it's really a hacking program. Not entirely dissimilar to your own. But I believe that, with your permission of course, I can access your digimind and find information that was hidden away."
45 looked intently interested, but 40 furrowed her brow, "I've never heard of anything like that. You're saying you're capable of breaching the layers of black box security that T-doll manufacturers put on us that easily? And without harming us in the process?"
"Yes." Amar answered simply, "You're probably wondering how that is. The short answer is rather straightforward: the technology I'm familiar with is rather advanced even when compared to IOP's cutting-edge systems. As for where I got that kind of technology...well...it's a bit more complicated."
Amar shed the hesitation that he'd been displaying for the past minute or so, instead now grinning like a magician who was about to reveal his greatest trick.
"I was born with it. After all, I'm not human, I'm an android. Just like you two."
Chapter End
Word Count: 8547
Final Note: To be honest I'm still really shaky on my dialogue, so if anything seems off let me know so I can improve, please! On both this story and Yet Another World I can't help but feel my writing just isn't adequate at all, which makes it harder for me to post stories. It's worse because I don't know "exactly" what it is that's bothering me...oh well. I think I'm just being weird. Leave a review! And thanks for reading!