StG 44

Waking was slow, painfully slow. It always was after extensive time in the bay getting repairs. Getting dragged back up out of level III was akin to a deep-sea diver reeled back up to the surface – it was disorientating and made the doll sluggish in the real world for a little. "Meatspace", some called it, the physical realm where androids had to play by human rules. Not that StG was an extensive user of electronic warfare.

The real world also happened to be where painful things happened. StG 44 cautiously checked her body as she woke. First, she flexed her fingers, which were fine; then her wrists and elbows; also fine, then she began to feel her torso and stomach. Everything seemed to be in working order. There was a cord plugged into her chest – the recharge port – that she left alone. Her legs were in working order. StG, satisfied yet uneasy with her clean bill of health, lifted her head up and looked around.

She was in an empty room. A stool sat next to the repair couch she was on, unoccupied, and the walls were partially lined with equipment. Aside from the equipment and couch, there was only a single door on the wall opposite her and a few chairs against the wall. As for herself – she was in her skivvies, as much of her body exposed as possible for ease of repair. StG checked her battery – 100% – so she unplugged and sat up.

It had felt like just a minute ago that the Ringleader punched her and sent her across the floor. She had already been damaged before, just trying to hold Gestalt off with the other two after NTW-20 was downed, and that final hit had been just too much. She had only vague memories of that doll from S09, Ingram, checking on her before leaving to fight. Her mind flooded with questions upon her recollection of the memory. Had they won? How was NTW-20? How was Chrysanthemum? Hunter?

For the first time she noticed the bedside table. On it were a couple packages and notes. StG picked the first one up.

Get well soon. We need you back here.

–Tokarev, FAMAS, Type 79

The blonde smiled a little. Though the handwriting was clearly Tokarev's neat longhand, the phrasing was unmistakably FAMAS and Type 79. StG wondered how the French doll was feeling, having missed out on the fight and turned on her own team. Resentful, she imagined. That was certainly how she would feel, or so she believed.

Underneath that note had been a poker chip. StG placed it on top of the card before picking up the other note.

StG 44,

We are all hoping that you are declared safe and can leave your room soon. Ak 5 would very much like to meet you, and the others are also super excited to hear about whatever story you have! Enjoy our gift in the meantime, and don't be gone too long.

–Chrysanthemum

StG looked over to the table again, where there were a few bars of chocolate. There were some flowers as well, standing up in a small vase. She looked back down to the letter, reading it again, running a finger over the ink, enjoying the weight of the cardstock. Ak 5. She had thought about the doll for a while, having only glimpsed her before, but the sense of jealousy she expected was not there. Perhaps the doll would be nice. That would be a welcome change of pace.

The thick lock on the door retracted with a heavy chunk, then the handle turned and the door swung in. Type 81 waved cordially at StG as she stepped inside, followed closely by INSAS, one of the latter doll's dummies, and Dr. Schuhart.

"Good afternoon, Sturmgewehr!"

"Type 81," StG said, raising a hand to her brow. Her motor functions had not recovered enough to give the crisp salute she usually did. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well, we've brought some good news," the adjutant said, looking to the IOP engineer. Schuhart took a seat against the wall next to the repair couch. He had not shaved in a while, StG noticed, nor did his coat look as clean as it usually was. His fingers laced together.

"Sturmgewehr, as part of Hunter, you were one of the first dolls on the list of contacts to be cleared. You'll be happy to know that I and the rest of the team have approved you for release."

"No nanites?"

"None, your system's clean. We're speculating that Gestalt didn't actually inject nanites into everything it touched, and that FAMAS and RPD were singularities."

A feeling of relief flowed through StG's digimind. She was no longer a victim of a blight, kept in quarantine; she could once again walk free without a bodyguard in case she was afflicted with a Sangvis virus.

"We'll keep monitoring your signs, of course, but it will be virtually unnoticeable," the doctor was saying. "It'll be life as normal for you."

"What about SASS?"

"She's been cleared as well. We'll finally be able to start using this sector of the base for regular repair functions."

"Good to hear."

"Sturmgewehr, Commander Kerr wishes to extend her warm feelings over your recovery," Type 81 said, smiling. "She is pleased to hear that you are up and functional."

"I'm sure she is." StG could not imagine the Commander having any feelings warmer than a few degrees above freezing, but she would take the adjutant's word for it. The doll nodded sluggishly.

Schuhart seemed to notice her slow nature. "Slow on the self-calibration? Here, I'll have the computer assist, it'll speed it up."

"Danke." StG waited awkwardly as the others stared at her, Schuhart tapping away at the terminal next to the couch. Type 81 was looking off into the distance, likely 'looking' through another dummy, while INSAS stared daggers at the German doll, appearing as if she was expecting StG to turn into Gestalt at any minute. "Doctor, how is AVS-36?"

The engineer raised an eyebrow at the question, caught off guard. "She's doing fine, thanks for asking. A bit bummed that she couldn't participate in Hammerhead, but I wouldn't allow that as long as I breathe."

He stood up from the computer, taking his clipboard in hand. "That should get the calibration sped up. I just need to sign off on your clearance, and you can head out as soon as your body's up and ready. As for clothes…"

Type 81 patted the fresh change of uniform that she had brought.

"That will work fine. Well," the doctor finished, signing the document, "Sturmgewehr, you are fit to return to duty. Though I don't think you'll have an assignment anytime soon."

He inclined his head, prompting an identical nod from the assault rifle. "Farewell, all. And, Type 81, there's no need for a security detail at this point."

INSAS followed him out of the room, leaving StG and Type 81 alone. StG twiddled her thumbs for a moment until the adjutant broke the silence. "Commander Kerr also wished to say that she understood your importance in the operation. Gestalt could not have been defeated without you, she believed."

"Ah," said Sturmgewehr, feeling strangely apathetic. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Yes."

StG looked up, wishing that she had the confidence to say something, anything, but her words had left her. "I hope she understands that I was just a part of it."

"She does," Type 81 replied, almost enigmatically. StG nodded, feeling satisfied.

"Gut. Because I couldn't have done it alone."

SuperSASS

"Here ya go, just push it in and the hardware will do the rest."

The IOP technician stood by while SASS stared at the half-naked body of NTW-20. It had just come out of construction, built to the custom (classified) specs that Hunter Squadron used, looking lily white and still smelling of polymer and coolant.

SuperSASS cradled the core she had rescued back in the Sangvis depot, looking at it one last time. Senpai… she'd have her back, quite literally just as she had left her. That would be odd for both of them.

"Hey, wait any longer and dust'll start collecting in the port," Macek said, grinning from where she leant on a console. SASS smiled a little at the joke and bent forward, carefully slotting the cube into the receptacle, feeling it fit into place perfect. "Great, take your hand out and close the hatch."

SASS removed her fingers and pushed the little cover closed. Macek watched the terminal screen, nodding in approval of the text displayed. "It's accepted. Now just give it a moment…"

NTW-20's body twitched, but stayed limp. SASS looked over to the stool by the simple service station which she had placed the rest of her senpai's uniform on. The doll would want to get dressed as soon as she could, and given NTW's disposition SASS was expecting her to leap to her feet once she came online.

Her eyelids snapped open, the T-doll's body taking in an initial burst of information before settling into a normal expression. NTW's bright pink irises gazed out at SASS, a slight smile rising. But SASS could not shake the wide-eyed look she had worn before, the stare of a doll in survival mode.

"Technician Macek," NTW said to acknowledge the IOP worker. "Been a while."

"It has," the woman replied with a wry look. "Didn't think I'd see you in here. Feeling good?"

"You bet." NTW ran a hand down her leg, the same limb that she had amputated during the confrontation. "Good to be back in a complete body. Thanks for doing this, SASS."

The younger doll nodded quickly. "It was the least I could do, senpai."

"The least, huh? Well, you should've gotten Kerr to come down personally."

SASS giggled. "I don't think I'd be able to do that."

"I'm ashamed. What use are you then?" NTW looked to Macek. "Calibration?"

"Couldn't get the specs on that, but I'm running it now. Just a little bit left."

NTW settled back for the time being. "So, SASS. What's been going on on base?"

"Well… mostly cleanup after the offensive. Lots of dolls still in the repair bay, plus all the search and destroy missions to clean up Sangvis remnants. Kerr doesn't seem to want a repeat of Gestalt, so she's not leaving a single square meter of the sector unsearched."

"Good, that's good." NTW-20 seemed distracted, despite having only "woken up" a few minutes ago. "How's the rest of my team? Hunter?"

"StG 44 is cleared from quarantine, the others are having their cloud backups spun up now."

"Good, that's good…"

"All done with calibration," Macek said, and she reached over and yanked the plug from NTW's chest. "Give it a test, then scoot. I've got plenty of construction orders lined up."

"Roger." NTW jumped up and flexed her arms and legs, doing a few stretches. "Full range of motion." She slipped into the rest of her clothes when SASS held them out to her as Macek made a few notes on the work order.

"Great. IOP production order 7351 is complete, then."

"Glad to hear. See you around, Sasha."

"See ya."

SASS and NTW stepped away from the station as Macek got to work. They were in another part of the IOP wing of the base, away from the main production floor. SASS reached out for her mentor's hand and took it in her own, squeezing gently. This NTW didn't have the smell of cordite or the rough skin that the original had. The synthetic material was new, supple and undamaged. SASS looked down at her hand, seeing the faint signs of wear that the self-healing system didn't take care of.

Around them, the shouts of IOP technicians and dolls at work and the constant noise of machinery echoed. Operation Hammerhead had not come without losses, and the dolls that had lost a body were still being restored from their old neural cloud backups. Data recovery teams were out in the battlefield, finding the fallen T-dolls and salvaging any unique personal effects and their combat data recorders. The recorders were then given to dolls so that after they woke up, they could swallow the pill and gain back at least some memories of the battlefield. SASS had not had to do that, not yet, and she hoped never to.

"Guess it's busy around here, huh?" NTW-20 asked.

"Yeah…" SASS did not feel like one for words at the moment. She was just happy to have NTW back.

They reached the elevator banks. As soon as the doors closed, SASS took NTW in a hug from behind, resting the side of her head on the bigger doll's back. NTW seemed to stand still as she hugged her, but SASS felt her senpai's hands come down to rest on her own after a moment.

"Don't make me do that again, okay?"

"Hm?"

"You know what I mean," SASS said, closing her eyes. "I can't stand being responsible for your life like that."

"I thought you would've liked having me in your hands–"

"No, really. It doesn't make me happy, it just makes me worried. I really didn't like seeing you hurt. Or having to… well – it just –"

SASS felt as well as heard NTW chuckle. "Ahahaha, alright, SASS. I can't make any promises, but I'll try, alright?"

The doll felt slightly calmed as NTW reached out and pressed the button for the main floor. The elevator started to move, and SASS sensed the clock ticking on her private time with senpai. "If you say so. I just hope that doesn't have to happen again."

"Well, I doubt we'll be seeing the likes of Gestalt anytime soon."

"Let's not talk about it," SASS insisted, breaking off the hug so she could face NTW. "I'm tired of all this, senpai."

NTW opened her eyes a little more than usual. "Yeah. Me too. But you did good, SASS."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. "That doesn't matter, I just want everyone alive."

"That's difficult. The mission comes first."

"Senpai." SASS folded her arms, sighing. "When you talk like that, I can't help but feel that you don't really care."

"Of course I care. But there are priorities that ought to be addressed. New enemies to be thought about, new orders…"

"You sound like the Commander. Look–" SASS continued before NTW could say anything. "We've still got after-action duties to finish, but Grizzly took out a reservation in one of the rooms in the café, so we'll be having a party or whatever, if you want to come. And don't tell me that you'll have something to do!"

Chuckling lightly, NTW-20 nodded. "Alright, I'll be there. And I might bring some others."

"Sure," SASS said, thinking about the last time she had seen StG. "We'll have room, I'm sure. It's this Saturday night."

"I'll be there."

That made SASS a bit happier. The elevator doors opened, revealing the bustling main atrium, and after a moment's pause the two of them stepped out, hand in hand once more.

Makarov

"Welcome back to the land of the living," was the first thing Kerr said.

"We're glad to be back," SV-98 said, awkwardly looking at Tiss before directing her gaze back at the Commander. "We, uh…"

"It's been a while," OTs-12 said softly. Kerr inclined her head in a silent gesture of understanding.

"We'll do all we can to assure a smooth transition back to regular life. Makarov informed me that Skyph had gone through all the debriefing procedures."

"Yes."

Makarov looked at Type 81 for a second, catching the adjutant's distrustful glare at the two MIA androids. Even after Schuhart had declared both of them to be uncontaminated and safe to leave unguarded, Kerr's assistant had been no less insistent that bodyguards be present for the Commander's sake. Her objections had eventually been overruled by Kerr herself.

"Incidentally, I don't suppose either of you have a clue as to where G17 is?"

SV-98 opened her mouth to reply, but instead looked at Tiss, who raised her hands and signed at her partner. Makarov had no clue what variant of sign language they were speaking, and Type 81's look of befuddled concern indicated the same of her. After a brief pause, she looked to the commander.

"We don't know. Your search teams haven't found anything?"

Makarov noted with a powerful surge of pity that, though Tiss's voice sounded perfectly normal after the voice box was replaced, her lips still had trouble syncing up with her words. The problem would resolve itself after a little bit, but in the meantime it made conversation with her very uncanny.

Not that OTs-12 was much for conversation anymore. Makarov had not known her well prior to the incident in the forest, but she seemed quieter and less inquisitive than ever after her return. The Tiss she knew had always been exploring the base or interacting with her fellows. This one seemed more reclusive than any doll she knew.

"There's been no sign of her so far," Kerr said. "But we've got a lot of ground to cover."

She looked at the dolls with what Makarov thought was expectancy, perhaps waiting to see if one of them would make a move, or offer information. Neither of them did any such thing. The Commander arched her eyebrow a miniscule amount before breaking the awkward silence.

"Well then. You have free run of the installation, so do yourself a favor and get to know the base again. Hunter or Thistle would be a good start."

As Kerr rose, the two dolls sprang to attention, if a bit sloppily. Type 81 stepped forward to escort them out of the office as Kerr beaconed for Makarov to come stand in front of her desk. Two chairs had been brought out for the visitors, but both of them had chosen to stand, and Makarov did the same, not wanting to get shown up by the other two.

"Ever the prideful one," Kerr remarked, picking up on the doll's choice. Makarov balked.

"I beg your pardon, marm…"

"Forget it." The Commander took a seat, opening a drawer in her desk and producing a sheet of paper and an envelope. "You performed very well during that operation. A lot of commanders are hesitant to put their dolls in command positions. Something about decision making skill or capability. People just prefer the human touch. But I find that dolls work just fine."

"Thank you, marm."

"Which is why I wrote a letter recommending you for transfer."

Makarov pushed down a reaction of surprise a millisecond after it registered on her face, but Kerr seemed to have caught it anyway.

"It's hard for me to do, since I usually go to such pains to ensure that my staff here is the best it can be. But this sector is quieting down, and I know that something big is about to happen in Griffin… something that I can't prevent. I don't intend to keep you here and deprive Griffin of your skill if it's needed elsewhere. But, of course, this is a business, not a military, so the choice is ultimately yours. Rest assured I won't complain if you decide to remain here." The ghost of a smile flitted across the Commander's face.

The doll stared at her superior, wide-eyed, before glancing at the letter sitting on the desk. She had only to say the word, and she would be spirited away from the trouble of S17 and onto perhaps even greater heights in Griffin. But for some reason, she felt reluctant to budge from her position in the sector. And to think her sister had always talked about how dolls didn't feel sentimental…

"I'll give you some time," Kerr said when it became evident that Makarov wasn't going to say anything. The Commander picked the letter up and returned it to the drawer. "You may be dismissed."