(30/5/2056 | 15:50)
"So, Commander. Tell us about yourself."
They were all still in the cafe, each one par Springfield sitting sitting on a stool and hovering over a cup of coffee that the riflewoman had served them. M14 had finally recovered, and was now nursing her ailing stomach with the slice of cake that Hsu had rejected to eat beforehand.
The Commander himself took another bite from the sandwich that had been prepared. A quick panini; just cheese, pastrami and mayo between some slices of bread. But it surprisingly hit the spot, and it was toasted well. He looked over to Springfield again, eying the woman as she kept smiling at him with no lost pride.
A-Doll or T-Doll, it could cook. Fast, too.
He swallowed, setting the sandwich back down on the plate. Hsu didn't care about pleasantries, especially when being surrounded by a bunch of androids. "Not important. We need to go over your field abilities."
Springfield's smile fell away with the dismissal, the rosy woman becoming saddened. "But we want to know. We're all very curious to see who's been assigned to lead us after such a long wait."
"Couldn't have been that long." Hsu dismissed, taking another bite from his sandwich.
"Three months, ten days, seventeen hours, thirty minutes, fifteen seconds and two milliseconds." Garand informed casually, her neural cloud doing the calculations in the blink of an eye. A timeframe that gave Hsu a newfound pause.
"Why have you been here for so long without a base Commander?"
"Because this is the most boring sector that Griffin has jurisdiction over." M14 answered, interrupting Garand as she tried to speak. Garand shot a glare her way, but M14 didn't seem to notice or care.
She wiped a few specks of chocolate from the corner of her mouth before going on. "All we've done is guard this place while the locals use it as a post-office. Trucks come in from Kyiv with supplies for all the new settlements."
"So since you came here, none of you have been on a mission outside the wire?" Hsu questioned further. As M14 shook her head, he could feel another migraine coming on. His brain rapidly started to spiral into worst case scenarios, but he caught himself before making assumptions.
"Do any of you have real combat experience? Outside the occasional bandit?" He asked, looking to his left and right.
BAR groaned, spinning around in her stool and leaning back against the counter. "Yeah. Springfield and I were in the big one for four years. Thompson was there for two. Garand and Fourteen caught the tail end of it."
"Yep. Man that was a helluva ride." Thompson said with a wicked grin. "Gang I had back then used to tear through anything and everything. One time, I got into a wrestlin' match with this Jaegar-"
"Let's not bore the Commander with our war stories." Springfield interrupted pointedly. Thompson threw a glare her way as well, but not before shirking away at the deathly gaze Springfield had conjured.
The gangster quickly silenced herself after that.
Like a switch, Springfield returned to her more friendly demeanor. Again she beamed towards Hsu, leaning forwards on the counter. "Rest assured, Commander. We are all very much able to take on whatever comes our way."
Hsu watched on, still not impressed. The Americans and Pan-European Union had started using more and more I.O.P dolls near the end of the war. Sangvis lost favor for a lot of reasons; lack of innovation, lack of modularity, outdated tactical AIs, so on. But even then, picturing these dolls in a warzone didn't make much sense.
They were too… colorful. Enough that it would be a liability on the battlefield. Going onto a battlefield dressed as a soldier from a century ago doesn't end well. Neither does having hair that goes all the way down to your hips.
What was freaking him out even more was how they carried themselves. They walked, talked and spoke like real people.
The United Republic of North America had a lot of restrictions on dolls. Most of their military was still made up of licensed Sangvis models that were built domestically. A-Dolls were expensive, and most people didn't interact with them daily. Nothing on the same scale as other nations.
Maybe he had interacted with a few. Maybe he'd known some A-Dolls for years, and he just never figured out they weren't real people. That was a terrifying thought in it of itself.
This wasn't going to work. He couldn't run a base full of these things.
"So other than me, what other human staff is on-base?" Hsu asked, finishing off the last of his sandwich.
Garand sipped from her cup, before dabbing her mouth with her napkin. "Forty-two human personnel. Split into three divisions, headed by a Chief. Engineering, Aviation and Logistics."
"And they're here as well?" He asked, to which Garand nodded along.
"Chiefs Khan and Santiago are. Chief Poniatowoski is on leave, but should return tomorrow." She pointed out, tilting her head a bit as Hsu stroked his chin.
"...Head outside into the courtyard. Grab your field kits and meet me at the gate." He ordered, before pushing himself up to his feet and walking off towards the door. The girls looked on confused, shuffling up from their seats as well.
"And just where th'heck're you goin', Boss?" Thompson asked as Hsu walked on, not turning to face her.
"Engineering." He said with finality, before shutting the door behind him abruptly.
The five of them shared looks with one another, not sure of what exactly had just transpired.
"Well, he's a dick." Thompson told the other girls, going back to drink her scotch without much care for their new orders.
"Thompson!" Springfield immediately scolded, to which the gangster just shrugged in response.
"He brushes us off, then barks orders like we're a bunch of Aegis models. He's a dick." Thompson repeated, assuring her stance.
"He does seem rather cold…" Garand lamented, disappointed at the showing. The first new arrival in months and he'd been as anti-social as they come. At this rate she would never meet new people.
"Girls, he just got here. He's likely tired and needs some rest." Springfield rationalized, moving down the counter and picking up the now empty cups and trays. "Let's not judge people so rapidly."
"Anyone ever mention that you're way too nice, Spring?" Thompson noted, before standing up and stretching her arms out. "Fine, guess we're going. Bar? Fourteen?"
M14 hopped up from her seat, giddy with anticipation at the chance to go off base for the first time in so long. Garand did the same, adjusting the kilter of her beret and pulling her sagging coat back over her shoulders.
Meanwhile BAR yawned, pushing herself up as she put her sunglasses on. Another day doing nothing wouldn't have bothered her, but she wasn't going to try and avoid a direct order.
As if her programming would even let her.
(16:20)
Walking into the guts of the facility would've been like a maze, if it wasn't for the map that G36 hadn't provided him.
As he moved away from the residential building, the internals of the base rapidly shifted from what looked like an apartment block into something prefabricated and militaristic. The walls morphed into a black metal, pipes and vents running across the roof and in directions he lost track of. Everything seemed self-contained, disconnected from the land around it. As expected of an FOB.
It wasn't long until he found the engineering bay, a few entrances down from the repair bay. Upon entrance he could see several men in white Griffon emblazoned jumpsuits at work. Two were working on what looked to be a base defense turret, it's barrel removed and optics being refitted. One was tampering with an AI core, though not currently containing any AI. Others were lazing about, or carrying out tasks that were way above Hsu's head.
There was a final man in the back, goggles on the crown of his brown hair which melded in with his brown skin. He seemed to be walking back and forth between groups, beckoning instructions to each one. He was tall, taller than Hsu for sure. His jumpsuit having a few vertical red stripes come across his stomach.
From the way he carried himself, he seemed quite involved in the process. But perceptive enough to notice the new man in the maroon trench coat wandering into his domicile.
The goggle wearing engineer smiled, breaking off from his group and going over to Hsu at speed. Before the commander could react, he had one of his hands clamped in a firm shake.
"You must be Commander Hsu!" The engineer deducted, speaking with an English accent. Something that this forward man seemed to find amusing, judging from his smile. "Helian told me you had arrived. My name is Assad Khan, Chief Engineer of this operation."
Collecting himself, Hsu began to return the shake properly. Satisfied, the engineer released his grasp and kept up his positive aura. "It's my pleasure to welcome you to the bay, Sir. I take it that you're here to get a feel for the complex?"
"Later." Hsu delayed. He was curious about what this part of the base was capable of, but he had come down here with a distinct objective in mind. "I actually needed to speak with you. Privately."
Khan cocked a brow, surprised at the request, but simply slipped to Hsu's side and gestured to the far end of the bay. A group of doors, each one with windows looking out and into the rooms they guarded. "Then by all means, Commander. My office is right this way."
Hsu hung back, allowing Khan to lead him to the right one. Both men entered the room, with the Commander closing the door behind him after the fact. One look at the office, and it seemed like it was more of a motel room. Complete with minibar, sleeping cot, food wrappers and assorted projects lining the shelves.
"Do you…?" Hsu began, looking at the scene with an odd sense of approval. A live in office meant someone cared about their work enough to not easily leave it.
"Have my own quarters? Yes, yes. But sometimes I have to spend the night here on projects. Or a few nights." Khan informed him, grabbing a trash bin and pushing some cans and refuse off of his desk and inside. "I'll admit I'm not that great at delegation. Keeping a closer eye on things means I know things won't break in the field."
"Long as you give your staff breathing room. No one likes a helicopter CO." Hsu noted, earning a sharp laugh from his peer.
"Oh, I'm aware. Learned that the hard way when I was in the Corps of Engineers." Khan assured, going to the minibar and pulling a can of cola from inside. He showed the label to Hsu, clearly offering it, before tossing it to the Commander after he nodded.
"You served?" Hsu asked after catching the can, popping the tab and taking a sip.
"Yes, Sir! Twenty Third Paras." Khan answered, taking his own beverage from the fridge and closing it behind him. "You?"
"Cee-Gee-Gees." Hsu answered, pacing his way over to Khan as the engineer laughed once more.
"Ah, so you aren't a yank! I figured. Not loud enough." The Engineer quipped, earning a small but sincere smirk from Hsu. "Regardless, Mister Hsu. What brings you to my humble little hovel? I take it's some kind of special request?"
"Something like that." Hsu admitted, giving the room another glance. His eyes landed on a picture frame on Khan's desk, one that seemed to present a small girl. Not yet a teenager, sharing more than a few of Khan's features. "You're in charge of the doll's maintenance, correct?"
"That's right We handle repairs, digimind upkeep, backups, dummy-links, module support." Khan assured, growing curious but not dropping his smirk. "Let me guess, Gee-Thirty-Six ran into something harder than her again?"
"What? No." Hsu answered, not expecting that to be a regular occurrence. "She did ram into me though, but I'm not exactly harder than she is."
Khan chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "Ah. Apologies, Sir. It's… not her fault. Her model's got a compatibility problem with her ocular nodes. Hardware and firmware don't agree with one another as they should."
"So she can't see properly?" Hsu said, dumbstruck. A combat doll who didn't even have working eyes, that was about as useful as a tank that couldn't move.
"It's why she's glaring at people all the time." Khan added with a sigh, leaning up against the edge of his desk. "She's got to squint, see? It helps, but it doesn't fix the problem. And I.O.P doesn't have a fix. They don't really do many post-release patches for these A-Dolls."
"So, she's not combat effective. Why is she here?" Hsu questioned.
"She helps keep the base clean. Well, except my office. After the last time she swore she'd never come down here again." The man stood clapped his hands together, before speaking in an exaggerated German accent. "'If you are not willing to clean zhis pigsty yourself, zhen I will not bother with a lost cause!'"
Khan relaxed, laughing at his own joke. Hsu didn't take to it, storing this newfound information for later use.
"The dolls. They all have emotion modules?" Hsu questioned, wanting to get the point of why he even came down here.
Khan nodded once more as he took another drink of soda. "Mmhm, every one of them. A holdover from when they were A-Dolls, but Griffin policy is to keep them enabled even after we take them on."
"So you can disable them?" Hsu pressed.
Khan's happy demeanor faltered at that, the man looking at his new superior with both confusion and worry. He set his can back down onto the desk, watching Hsu's small mannerisms with caution. This conversation was suddenly going to a place he did not like.
"...In theory, Sir." Khan admitted. "The modules are linked to their consciousness. I'd need to edit their firmware by hand. And the risk of damaging their digiminds is… rather high. It'd likely be an irreversible change."
"It's a yes or no question, Khan." Hsu said, drawing a line in the sand.
The Engineer frowned, looking about the room and avoiding eye-contact with the man. "...Commander, if you're asking me to do that to them, I have to object on ethical grounds."
"Ethical." Hsu said, deadpanned and unmoved. "They're tools, Khan. Robots pretending they're human. Since when do ethics apply to weapons?"
Khan's frown only grew, this time turning terse and upset. "Be they flesh and blood or not, Commander. Those girls are sentient beings. Most of their energy expenditure is to maintain that sentience."
"Is what I'm asking you to do illegal?" Hsu questioned.
Khan shook his head.
"Is what I'm asking you to do not feasible?"
Again, Khan shook his head.
"Is refusing this order worth me having you replaced?"
Khan froze, the threat spearing his core. Drops of sweat began to form on the back of his neck, a pit the size of a bowling ball forming in his stomach. Reflexively, his hands began to curl up against the wood of his desk.
"No. Sir." He said, glaring daggers at the man. Wishing he would evaporate on the spot. Meanwhile Hsu sat there, stone faced as ever at his subordinate's rapidly growing distaste.
"Then I want it done." He ordered. "As soon as possible."
With that, and the final word, Hsu stood up and marched out the door. Khan kept his glare, holding it until he was out of his office and could see he left the bay entirely through the door's window.
"Bastard." He muttered, regretting he even gave the man a drink.
(16:40)
"So. Booooooooooooooooooored."
M14 laid down on the grass, blowing a strand of hair from her face as she stared off into the sun. Her retinal sensors dulling themselves to the sight in order to avoid damage.
"You said that when we were inside." BAR pointed out, leaning against the wall of the gate lazily. Her aviators were now over her eyes, but she was once again scanning her phone for new accessories. "Are you ever not bored?"
"Only when you aren't around!" M14 cried back, to which BAR rolled her eyes once more. The other girls chatted amongst themselves, each one holding a rifle and carrying a bandolier of ammunition.
It took the sound of a vehicle to draw all of their attention. A large, grey painted MRAP rolled down the dirt road and stopped at the gate. The tinted window on the driver's side doorway glinted as it was pushed open, and the driver got out.
Hsu revealed himself, having changed his attire. A green, digitized boonie hat on his head along with a similarly patterned headset. Greyish green fatigues and a green plate carrier, along with an assault rifle hanging off his chest rig and a small rucksack. The only article of clothing that carried over from his old getup was his glasses.
"We're going on a patrol, pile in." The Commander ordered. The dolls looked between one another, then did as they were told. BAR took the front passenger seat, Thompson and Springfield sat in the center row, and M14 stowed herself on the flatbed at the back with Garand.
The gate then shuttered open, before Hsu pressed the pedal down and began to drive.
"So what's the route of this 'patrol', then?" BAR asked, looking out the window as the base disappeared from view. The newly made dirt roads cutting through the war torn landscape, probably the only route in the area not paved with leftover mines.
"We're heading to the settlement a few klicks out." Hsu informed, eyes straight and hands firmly gripping the wheel. "Get to know the local leaders, try and feel the area out. Build contacts."
"So less patrolling and more diplomacy." BAR narrowed down, looking back towards the man. "Why bring us, then? Could just call'em over a comms channel."
"There's some things that are better done face to face. People're are more likely to trust someone talking to them directly than via a screen." The Commander explained, turning the vehicle along the road's curve. "That, and I need translators. I'm going to guess all of you know Ukranian?"
"We were uploaded with language software when we were assigned here." BAR said, affirming his suspicions. "But we don't need guns to talk with people."
"This is no man's land to us. I'm not going outside the wire without backup and firepower." Hsu pointed out, looking at M1918 from the corner of his eye. "This is your team's chance to prove your worth. Up for it?"
"We've got nothing to prove." Thompson protested, leaning into the conversation. "Listen here, slick. Just because you're our new boss, doesn't mean we're all a bunch of babes fresh off momma's milk. We know what we're doing."
"That is for me to decide." Hsu retorts, bringing his elbow up and smacking Thompson right in the jaw. The doll staggered back into her seat. Springfield grimaced as her teammate rubbed her chin, glaring bloody murder at the man.
With that, Hsu grabbed for the rifle on his rig and removed it. He stowed the green and grey accented weapon to his side, somewhere more comfortable but where he could easily grab it. M14 looked in from her rear position, spotting the movement.
"What gun is that?" She asked, drawn in by it's form. "Doesn't look like any M-Four I've ever seen."
"Not an M-Four. C-Eight." Hsu replied, pointing down to the weapon. "It's like an M-Four, except better."
"Where'd you get it?" The woman asked, still holding her battle rifle.
"My old job. Sold these surplus rifles when the war was over and the Army upgraded." Hsu explained with a shrug. "This thing kept me alive for years. It's seen more fights than most people."
"Which means so have you. Explains the scar." Springfield pointed out, causing Hsu to run his hand across his nose self-consciously. The riflewoman tried to put on a smile, seeing her faux-pas. "You didn't tell us anything about yourself at the base."
"Because I said it wasn't important. Still isn't." Hsu dismissed.
"Well, humor me." Springfield pressed, not letting the topic go. "We'd like to know more about whom we're taking orders from."
"It's gonna be a long, boring car ride either way." Thompson complained, earning a stiff nudge from Springfield in response. "Hey!"
"Stop being so combative." Springfield ordered. "We won't get anywhere if we continue to hold one another at arm's length."
Hsu watched on via the rearview mirror, watching the two begin to bicker. Thompson calling Springfield a nosy busy-body, Springfield saying Thompson was a bully. It was amusing, he couldn't deny it. But he also saw the truth in Springfield's words.
Until he had their emotion modules disabled, they were going to be like this. Which meant if he wanted to do his job, and do it well, he'd have to adjust. Unhappy men lead to poor performance in the field. Poor performance in the field meant people were going to die.
Losing some cash, that would hurt. Seeing locals get hurt, that was something he was going to avoid.
"Alright." He announced, making each doll in the echelon turn to him. He looked behind him, speaking to the androids directly.
"Twenty questions. Four from each of you. Ask me anything." He permitted.
Springfield broke into a happy smile, meanwhile Thompson huffed and sat further back in her seat. Both Garand and M14 scrambled to lean through the back window, wanting to take part in the makeshift town-hall.
Hsu looked back to the road, focusing on his task once more. "Bar. You start. We'll go front to back."
The machine-gunner chuckled, turning her phone off and staring at the subject of her incoming inquiries. "Alright. What's your name?"
"Commander Hsu." He answered, omitting his given name.
"Where are you from?"
"United Republic of North America."
BAR rolled her eyes. "Bit vague, don't you think?"
"You still have two questions." Hsu reminded her smugly.
BAR huffed, but smirked at the man. "Alright, smart-ass. Where in the URNA exactly?"
"Canada. City called Greater Victoria, across the bay from Vancouver."
"And you said you got that rifle from your old job. Let me guess, you were with the Canadian Army before the URNA got formed?"
That deduction brought Hsu some pause, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips at the logic used by the android.
"Smart." He admitted, looking at BAR from the corner of his eye. "You know much about the URNA?"
"Was supposed to be my home. But then the war broke out, me and Springfield got 'appropriated' to fight for the Pan-European Union's forces." BAR explained. "They stuffed my neural cloud with a bunch of information about California. I guess the people who ordered me lived there."
"Have you ever been there?" Hsu asked. BAR shook her head. "Do you want to go?"
"I was planning on it, actually. Once my contract with Griffin's over." BAR said. "Don't really dig living in a bombed out hellhole like this place. I'm sure I could find some work with a PMC out west."
The Commander shook his head. "You'll have better luck finding work as an A-Doll. American PMCs don't like using Androids much."
BAR sighed, slouching in her seat. Hsu looked back at his mirror, scanning over the faces that were eagerly waiting their turn. Well, mostly eager. The gangster girl still looked like she wanted to deck him in the face. "Alright, next?"
"I've got one." Thompson said, before the others got a shot. "Why're you such an asshole?"
Springfield sighed in exasperation, while Hsu just grinned at the mirror, taking a bit too much enjoyment from the doll's vehement annoyance. "I'm not an asshole, I just don't like you. Next?"
"Oooh, oooh! Me! Me!" M14 called, bouncing a bit from her position. "Why did you come out here? Where'd you get the scar? Do you have a girlfriend? Why are you so grumpy all the time? Do you like do-"
"That was four." Hsu reminded her, cutting her off at the last question. M14 pouted at the man, not liking her flow being shut down so harshly. But he continued on undaunted.
"I came out here because I wanted to do some traveling. I got the scar from grenade shrapnel. I do not have a girlfriend, nor am I looking for one. And I'm not grumpy, I'm pragmatic."
"Most grumpy people call themselves that." Garand chipped in, earning a giggle from M14.
Hsu rolled his eyes, not wanting to entertain that claim with a response. Still, he was oddly enjoying this whole affair. These dolls, strange as they were, were at least decent company. Not boring, by any stretch of the imagination. It made sense, considering they were built to be assistants and companions instead of weapons of war.
He didn't quite get why Griffin chose to use modified A-Dolls. Cost, maybe? Modern T-Dolls were probably double the price, if PMCs were even allowed to purchase such things. Utility? A doll that looked and acted like a person might be able to better handle more diplomatic work. But that didn't explain giving them so much freedom.
Part of the reason he took this job was to be away from too many people. At best, they were distractions. At worse, they were liabilities. Being surrounded by artificial ones was almost worse.
It was then that a large explosion engulfed the vehicle. Dust kicking up, blinding the windows and sending the MRAP to a screeching halt. Hsu's head flung forward, slamming the steering-wheel and making his whole world spin. Darkness began to overtake him, vision blurring into nothingness.
The Commander could feel someone grab his arm, shouting overtaking the vehicle as he was dragged out of his seat. Voices melding together in the ringing of his ears, turning into a staccato of nonsense.
His last thoughts cursed himself for getting distracted, just like last time.
