New Life
Jennie tilted her head, glancing around the auditorium. She almost winced at the cacophonous barrage of colors that came from too many Reploids gathered in one place.
Being transferred to her new, Reploid body had been a ghastly experience. It had felt like she imagined dying would... and her body had died. Was she really the same person, or just a copy of that person? The concept was enough to give her a bad case of existential uncertainty, so she tried hard not to think about it.
After months of practice with her new body, including combat practice, she was well aware of why most combat Reploids were brightly colored. Electronic scanners tended to go haywire or get blown off in the heat of battle, leaving the combatants coping with Mark One Eyeball scanners. Friendly fire wasn't, so both Mavericks and Hunters favored bright colors and garish, unmissable insignia. It didn't always help, but that was the breaks.
Walking on the balls of her feet, Jennie walked gracefully over to a register counter. She'd found that walking that way posed no strain to her new Reploid body, and it minimized the sound she made as she walked. She would probably have to give it up eventually, when she received her armor but not everything was perfect.
Rubbing her left arm, she gave her information in a clear, calm voice. The place where her buster had been installed ached, but she hadn't dared bring it. Civilian Reploids didn't have busters.
"Name?" A very bored looking young Reploid almost sighed as he asked.
"Jennie Velazquez." The first name was original, the last name new. Both were on her new documentation that said she'd been created six months ago.
"Occupation?"
"…Dancer." Jennie looked him squarely in the face as he frowned at her. That occupation wasn't particularly believable. Dancing was mostly limited to humans, although there was a limited market catering to the Reploid audience. So, much like whores had once called themselves dancers, such a claim from a Reploid could cover a multitude of sins. The young Reploid finally shrugged, and entered it into his computer.
They quickly ran through her other vital statistics, and he told her to take a seat. She would have a real interview before taking a brief physical, and then she would be on her way.
The chairs creaked under her weight as she sat. Obviously salvaged from the school and intended for use by children, she wondered if the hard plastic would survive the day. After supporting the weight of countless Reploids, she doubted it.
"Hi." Surprised, Jennie turned her head to look at a young man sitting two seats away. He was human, which was a little startling. While humans could join the Maverick Hunters, their use was severely limited in battle. But there were other fields…
"Hello." She smiled slightly. "Are you here to become a Maverick Hunter?"
"I wish!" He sighed, shaking his head. "No… even if I wanted it, I'm not fit. See?" She tilted her head as he held out a hand which trembled faintly. "Neuro disorder from bad injuries as a child. Incurable, but I'm up for becoming a mechanic. Already good at it."
"Well, you might be repairing me someday then." Jennie said with a smile. The work in the repair bays might be less glamorous and dangerous than the actually hunting, but it was just as vital. And often it was fairly dangerous. Medics often followed the warriors to save what they could. "What's your name?"
"Huh? Oh, Jim Thomson. Hey, do you know if it's true what I've heard?" He shifted over until he was sitting beside her. She was vastly entertained by the way the Reploid he had been sitting next to previously was ignoring them both. She suspected the boy had been inflicting chatter on him for quite some time. Jennie didn't mind, though. She was in the mood to talk.
"What's that?"
"That we'll have to share rooms at the Maverick Hunter HQ, like, four to a room?" Jennie winced at that earnest query.
"I've heard that too, so I suppose we will." She said reluctantly. After the wide, airy rooms at her sister's mansion and the huge practice room that had been devoted to her exclusive use, that would be difficult to take.
But life as a Hunter wasn't about the privacy and it certainly wasn't about the money. Owing no allegiance to any one country meant that the Hunters never got direct funding from them. They ran mostly on private donations, which was only possible because of their tremendous fame. Jennie estimates that at least half of her old neighborhood had been subscribed to the donation campaign, paying a monthly amount directly to the Maverick Hunters. Other organizations were funded directly by various governments and had to abide by their rules and regulations, but the Maverick Hunters went directly to the people.
This didn't endear them to other organizations. Jennie had heard rumors of massive turf wars and enduring hostilities. She didn't know how real those rumors were but she was certain there was some truth to it.
"Damn! I hope all my bunkmates are Reploids. I snore so loud it could wake the dead." Jim shook his head in mock dismay, and Jennie choked on a giggle before sneaking a peek at him from beneath lowered lashes.
She hadn't really noticed how attractive he was. His hair was bright red and very curly, and there was a light dusting of freckles across his nose. His eyes were a bright blue, and if she had still been human she would have dated him gladly.
If she were still human. Reploids and humans didn't really date. It usually ended badly.
They talked quietly for a good thirty minutes. Jennie discovered that Jim liked cats, his favorite music was light rock and roll and he had lived in a very rural location all his life. His family was still alive and intact. Jennie felt slightly envious.
In return, he found out that she also liked cats, was fond of modern classical music, particularly Bond and really was a professional dancer. It was a fun and happy conversation.
"Jennie Velazquez?" Jennie reluctantly tore her attention away from him, seeing a Hunter holding a clipboard. "Over here, please." He motioned to a curtained off section of the auditorium. It granted at least the illusion of privacy.
The Hunter sat down across from her. He was a very humanoid reploid, with dark green armor shading to blue on her arms and legs. Jeannie couldn't judge his age at all, but she was willing to bet he was at least three years old. He was wearing the insignia of the 17'th, X's unit, and was favoring one leg. Jennie wondered if he had been damaged in combat, something long lasting and was recuperating as he worked at the recruitment fair.
Most of the interview was standard… questions about her capabilities. The Hunter was a bit disappointed to find out she had no technical skills at all, and was a bit dubious about her contention that she was an extremely new, experimental model. That amused Jennie a bit. If only he had known how experimental she truly was!
Then came the expected question.
"Why do you want to join the Maverick Hunters?" Jennie hesitated. She had been preparing for this question for days… but found that she couldn't say the false words she thought would be acceptable. She did want to help people, but to say that was her primary motivation would be a lie. It wasn't revenge, either, though. She wanted…..
"I don't want to be a victim anymore." She said abruptly, and the Hunter raised his eyebrows, inviting her to continue. "I... survived an attack. But I couldn't do anything. I kicked him and he never noticed..." That had been as a human, but it was true enough. "I can't just live my life as a normal person, knowing I'll be helpless if it happens again. I need to do something to stop it." Passion had entered her voice. "I can't just sit around!"
"I see." The Hunter nodded, looking thoughtful. "I appreciate your honesty." Jennie smiled shyly. She was sure he had heard plenty of answers that amounted to so much self-concealing BS. She was thankful he didn't seem to find her response worrisome. "Well, Jeannie, I need to tell you some things about the Hunters."
He ran through what was obviously a well rehearsed speech. Jeannie learned about each unit... there were seven in total... and was pleasantly surprised to hear her pay rate. It wasn't much, but when she added in the free room and board it became far more respectable. She would have plenty of money to enjoy herself on her time off. The amount of which would range from fair to nonexistent, depending on the current situation.
Examining the contract, Jennie nodded and finally signed, just barely remembering her new last name.
It was time to start a new life.