(14:14 | 6/6/2056)
"We are improving, though slowly." G36 admitted. "In time, I think we will be ready for a proper mission."
Yet again, Hsu found himself in the base cafe. He sat on a stool, coffee steaming at his side while he read data from the latest echelon drill. The rest of the room was empty, having fallen into disuse in the days since the firefight. Though at the very least, all the damage had been repaired. Even if they were now missing a chair.
The other dolls were scattered across the base, either in their dormitories or practicing their marksmanship on the range. A shroud of dread had come over BAR's team after his stern ultimatum. In fact, most of them seemed to avoid speaking with him if they could. Only Springfield and Garand were the exceptions.
Not that it mattered. So long as they were practicing, he could care less.
G36 continued to watch the man, waiting for him to respond to what she had said. Instead, he merely flipped the report over and began to read off the data-chart from the latest sim.
"Ninety-seven's still underperforming." Hsu points out, eying the smallest doll's shot-accuracy against her peers. Even with a shotgun, the girl didn't seem capable of hitting the broad side of a barn.
G36 pursed her lips, worry coming to bare as one of her subordinates was placed under the lense. "She is still learning, Kommandant. This is her first assignment after joining our company."
"No previous combat experience?" Hsu guessed.
"Nein. She has been an A-Doll for her entire life. Part of a cleaning company in America." G36 explained, tapping her cheek as she began to think. "Believe she said she was from a city called 'Mobile?'"
"Explains the accent." He grumbled, sliding the report to the side and taking a long swig of coffee. It hit him like a mule, G36's brew being considerably bolder compared to the cup Springfield had made for him yesterday.
"Is the beverage not to your liking, Master Hsu?" The maid asked innocently, noticing the man's face sour as he drank. It was a question that gave Hsu pause, eying G36 strangely as he pulled the cup away from his mouth.
"Master?" He questioned, never having been called such a title before. The maid's cheeks immediately went rosy, her glare falling apart as she realized her gaff.
"I-I-I meant Mister! Mister Hsu!" She quickly amended, trying to cover her tracks to no avail. The Commander continued to stare at her, as if he was daring the doll to try and keep up the lie. Eventually, she cracked. She sagged her head in defeat, before moving to wash a pile of dishes in the sink. "I apologize, Kommandant. It was a slip of the tongue."
Hsu hummed, taking another swig from the cup until it was completely empty.
It was funny. Over the past week, out of everyone on this base, he'd spent most of his time with or near G36 at his side. She made his meals, she did his laundry, she cleaned his quarters, In truth, she catered to his every whim. Not surprising, she was built for maid-work. But she seemed to enjoy it more than she did her drills.
Even if she rarely smiled, she seemed content when helping others.
"I've been meaning to ask." Hsu began as the maid came to pick up the empty cup and saucer. "During the live-fire drill, I heard Thompson call Springfield 'Savannah.'"
"Ah. Yes…" G36 said, dunking the cup and saucer into the sink before she began scrubbing them with a soapy rag. "That would be Frau Springfield's civilian name. She used it for a long time."
"I thought she was built near the end of war." Hsu pondered, but G36 shook her head.
"Nein. The rest of her teammates were. And Thompson was the only one built with warfare in mind." The maid explained, placing the cup on the drying rack before going to work on the saucer. "Springfield is like myself. We are first generation Autonomous Dolls. Both her and I have been in service for over ten years."
"Most first-gen dolls are gone." The Commander recalled. "You've lasted longer than most."
He saw the back of her head bob as she nodded. "I was blessed to belong to a wealthy family in Bavaria. They treated me like one of their own." She said, drying her hands off from the sink and walking over to the fridge. There, she pulled out the remains of Springfield's cake, cutting a slice.
"Working for them was my calling. I miss it, every day." She said, setting the slice of cake in front of Hsu with a fork for his use. He took the utensils in hand, spinning it between his fingers as he continued to think.
"What's yours, then? Your civilian name." Hsu asked, now taking a bite from the dessert. Even having been in the fridge for a few days, it still tasted amazing . Maybe the best slice of cake he'd ever had.
The maid looked conflicted, rubbing her wrist nervously at the question. She hadn't used her civilian name in years. Before Griffin, she was merely given a number designation. After all, she was just a doll. One of hundreds of thousands. And though her model was a limited edition, she was still mass-produced.
"...Gretel." She said, quiet as a mouse. The maid looked to Hsu, trying to discern a reaction from him. But as usual, he was completely stone-faced.
He took another bite of the slice, before setting the fork down and lacing his fingers together. "And would you prefer if I called you that, or your field designation?"
G36 tilted her head, surprised at the statement. "You're giving me a choice?"
He shrugged. "I can tell the name means something to you. And Springfield, seeing how she reacted when Thompson said it."
G36 looked at her Commander, still taken aback by the offer. It was a strange, but genuine showing of respect. Something she couldn't help but smile at. "You act like a grumpy old man, but you have a kindness about you Mister Hsu."
"Still need an answer." He replied, tone level as before. The maid chuckled, but then turned to the side as Kalina ran into the cafe. The logistics coordinator doubled over, heaving heavily as she tried to get air back in her lungs.
"Helian… call… command center…" She managed to say between breaths, almost stumbling over before G36 rushed over and grabbed her arm. The exhausted girl muttered a thank you, leaning into her arms.
Meanwhile, Hsu mounted a frown. If Helian was calling him, then his day was about to get a lot worse.
(14:20)
"You're late. Again. " Helian noted as Hsu entered the command center, both Kalina and G36 following behind him as he took his place before the sub-director. He lifted his arm in a salute, then dropped it as the woman waved a dismissive hand. "We have an emergency. Your base is being reactivated for combat missions."
"Must be serious, if you're letting me out of the doghouse this fast." Hsu observed, hands clasped behind his back. "What's the OPORD?"
"I need your team to reach these coordinates." Helian instructed, before snapping her fingers as a map projection was activated. It was near the edge of the sector's territory, leading into the Caucasian badlands. A darkened part of the map, with the old Sangvis Ferri logo hovering over the territory.
"A group of Griffin survivors is attempting to cross back into friendly territory. One of our operations fell apart at the end." Helian explains as she zooms onto the area, revealing an old Soviet airfield with multiple pre-war planes rusting on the strip. "This is their pick-up point, their ETA is seventy minutes. Your job is to secure this area, then carve a path to meet the dolls halfway. Last transmission confirmed they're currently being pursued by Sangvis patrols."
"You want me to go into hostile territory? With two echelons, only one of them at full strength?" Hsu asked, not believing the incredulous task. "And how many dolls am I expected to rescue?"
"There should be about seven, total. Though many are damaged." Helian informed, narrowing her eyes at the man. "Is this a problem, Major?"
"With all due respect, ma'am, are you high?" He questioned, dropping all manner of tact as he shoved a finger towards the tac-map. "This is a platoon-level operation! I don't have nearly enough firepower to carry out Combat Search-and-Rescue!"
Helian growled, lifting a hand to signal for Hsu to hold his tongue. "Headquarters is very well aware we're asking much of you, but your teams are the only ones available for this task. We cannot allow these dolls to lose their memories under any circumstances."
"And is Headquarters going to send support?" Hsu asked. Well, more demanded. The Commander was rapidly losing his calm as the situation was explained further to him. "We're a supply outpost . We do not have the manpower or material to carry out an operation of this scale on the outer-fringes of our territory."
"Once the area is secured, a casualty-evacuation transport will start to make its way to you. We can offer some air-cover from our helicopters, however-" Helian began, but was cut off as the Commander spoke once more.
"That's all well and good, but that doesn't make this feasible. " Hsu spat back, walking up to the hologram so he was in the woman's face. Something that must have been replicated on her end, as she visibly recoiled back. "I do not do suicide runs. So either get me more men, or we aren't taking this order."
Silence loomed over the command center with that final outburst. Kalina and G36 shared a look, fearful for what was about to come next. Both officers seemed liable to tear one another's heads off. They might have already tried, if they were actually in the same room as one another.
Helian's fists clenched open and closed, a million curses and threats running through her mind at the moment. The last thing she needed now was open insubordination from a new commander . Especially when the fate of the whole company hung in the balance.
"...If you pull this off, I'll assign another echelon to your base." Helian promised through grit teeth, opting to negotiate rather than dictate. "And fill out your understrength team. If you pull this off."
Hsu pulled back, taking a breath. His anger seemed to disappear, as if it was never there. The Commander merely adjusted his glasses, before taking his previous stance again.
"Thank you, ma'am. We'll get it done." He promised, before hitting a button and ending the call. He then turned around to face the two other women who'd been silent this entire time. Both looked at him expectantly, clearly trying to avoid being caught in the blast radius of any residual tension.
It was something that even he had to smirk at.
"Who's up for a helicopter ride?"
(14:23)
"Disrespectful, uncouth bastard!"
Helian was in a rage once the communication had been terminated. Insults and anger sputtered out of her mouth, switching back and forth between English and Gaelic at near random. All the while, her adjutant stood at the side, watching over her master with a brooding outlook.
Helian stood at her liquor cabinet, filling a glass from a rather expensive looking bottle of whisky. "He has the nerve. The absolute gall to threaten insubordination? Where does that tosspot get off!?"
"Try not to drown yourself in the drink this time, milady. We're still low after you came back from your date with the Dutch gentleman." Bren responded dully, counter-balancing Helian's more inflamed personality with her chilled outlook as usual.
Helian snarled at the comment, but still screwed the lid back onto the bottle. She then stomped her way back over to her desk, sitting in her large leather office chair with a huff. "I should fire him. Send him packing back to North America with the Yanks." She pondered, before knocking the whole glass of liquor back in a single go. It was strong, burning her throat, and only accenting her anger.
"Why are men so worthless , Beatrice?" Helian questioned, lolling her head back as she tried to calm herself down. "Heavens alive, they're all either insufferably smug or utter morons."
The doll huffed, taking a datapad from her hip before typing something into the touch-screen. "I'm sure that's why you keep pining for one, milady. 'Smug idiot' seems like it would be your type."
"Don't." Helian pleaded, pinching the bridge of her nose as she felt a headache come along.
"Notice how she doesn't deny it." Bren points out, doubling down, smiling to herself as the room was filled with Helian's annoyed groan. As she finished writing her message, the doll looked up towards her superior. "You realize he played you."
"Of course he 'played' me." Helian answered. "He would've gone on the mission regardless."
"Then why humor him?" Bren questioned, wondering why Helian hadn't bitten the Commander's head off.
"Because I was planning on sending him reinforcements regardless." Helian explained, sitting up and running her finger around the cusp of her empty glass. "He also showed his hand."
"Oh?"
"The Major clearly lacks confidence in his forces, even though the squadron assigned to him is quite seasoned." She assessed. The team in that sector had been put together explicitly for a worst-case scenario where more forces would need to be committed. "Based on his patrol report, he values information and force of arms. A very conservative leader."
Bren slowly nodded, starting to catch onto her officer's logic. "So by letting him think he's bartered himself into a better position…"
"He'll be more willing to take greater risks." Helian finished with a devilish smirk.
"Devious. But one problem." Bren said, Helian cocking a brow at the mention. "This may merely incentivize him to act out later on."
"Doubtful. Hsu's psych-profile shows he prefers the path of least resistance. Fighting me is not that path." Helian affirmed.
"Someone's done their homework." Bren noted, taking the empty glass from the desk and walking it back over to the cabinet.
"...I'll be honest. Even if he was being a bother, his caution is very well warranted." Helian lamented, well aware that Sector Nine was in a sorry state. For the longest time, it'd remained undermanned due to its lack of strategic positioning. But with Sangvis' growing advances, it was suddenly the front line against the rogue androids.
Griffin's reputation was already being tarnished by the losses. If more settlements came under threat, the company could easily lose it's defense contract. They didn't have time to find a new commander, let alone one who had as much background experience as Hsu.
As Bren wiped the glass clean and set it back inside, her datapad rang as a new notification came up. A holo-call to the office, and the name of the caller causing Bren to frown. She went back to the desk, showing the sub-director who was asking for her now. "Speaking of bothers…"
"Persica." Helian read off, saying the name as if it was a contagious disease. The pain in her head flaring as she tried to gird herself for what came next.
She pressed a button on her desk, activating the call before making a mental note to stock up on aspirin.
(14:36)
BAR laid flat on her stomach, weapon in hand as she peered down the virtual range. A small mountain of brass casings had begun to pile up on her flank from all the ammunition expended. Empty magazines were scattered around her firing station, having been tossed here and there, with a box of rounds sitting behind her.
She'd been on the range for the past few hours, burning through the base's ammo stock before this week's resupply. Practice, doubling as a vent for her frustrations. Each doll had their own methods of stress relief, her's was laying down a large amount of suppressing fire.
The past few days had taken a toll on everyone, most of all her. Having their jobs put on the line suddenly forced everything into a new perspective.
She'd been in charge of this team for months now. During that time they'd been little more than base guards, not having dealt with any real threats or major events. This posting had been like a paid vacation. All the free time she could ever want, with no work and no responsibility. Sure, once in a while they had to scare off a few bandits with guns. But during those raids, the automated turrets had done more damage than they had.
Amazing how that all changed over the course of a week.
Now this backwater outpost had an actual human Commander running the joint. And he was taking them out on patrols , putting them through live fire exercises, making them… fight again. It was such a jarring experience, after having spent so much time on ice.
As BAR emptied the last of her magazine, she sat up and stretched her arms out. Footsteps were heard coming up behind her, and from the corner of her eye she saw the last person she wanted to speak to right now.
So, the machine gunner grabbed her magazines and began to hand load rounds into the magazine. Meanwhile Thompson stood at her side, looking out to the target on the range.
"Your groupings're gettin' good. At this rate you're gonna be better than Nineteen-Nineteen, wherever the hell she is." The gangster observed, not garnering any response as her team leader continued to slip new rounds into the magazine.
Expecting the cold shoulder, Thompson shrugged and dug into her vest, rummaging around until she found a pack of cigarettes. "Boss wants all of us in the Command Center by fourteen-fifty. Springfield's grabbin' the others already."
Bar nodded as Thompson took out a match and lit up, crushing the flame between her fingers and flicking it away onto the range. She took a long drag, savoring the flavor on her tongue before she spoke again.
"...I'm sorry, cuz." Thompson said, twirling the cigarette in her mouth as Bar continued to wordlessly continue her work. She paused, waiting to see if she got any response, but none came. Which meant that she had to go further.
Even if she hated getting sentimental, that was probably her only option. So she sat herself down, grabbed an empty magazine and joined her teammate in the activity.
"Look, I've been actin' like a five-star bitch. Not just to you, but to everyone." She admitted, slotting a cartridge in with her thumb. "I know you're pissed. Hell, I'd be pissed. Especially after I-"
"Called me 'a pathetic excuse of a doll' and said I 'couldn't lead a glee club if someone put a gun to my head?'" BAR filled in, slamming the last round into her magazine with force. Enough to dent the lip, rendering the whole thing worthless. The blonde wordlessly stared at her mishap, then grabbed another magazine and began to refill that in its place.
Thompson nodded, blowing a puff of smoke out as she set her finished work to the side. The gangster rested both hands on her lap, contemplating the fight they'd had after the end of the live-fire exercise. She'd gone far, far over the line. The insults that were brought up were the nicer comments.
"...You have my word I ain't ever gonna do that again." Thompson promised, her genuine voice coming out. "You're the only family I've got, blondie. Garand and Fourteen got their little sisters somewhere, but you and me… that's it. Hurtin' you is one of the worst things I can do."
BAR huffed, setting her work aside and cracking her fingers. She then stuck a hand to her left, opening her palm up. Thompson took the hint, grabbing her pack of cigarettes and matchbox before handing them off.
"Remind me again why we like these? Don't cigarettes kill humans?" Bar asked, striking her own cigarette aflame and snuffing out the match.
"We ain't human." Thompson recalled, taking a long drag. "Personally, it's the taste. It's like drinkin' smoked ham."
"Weird, but OK." Bar answered, taking a drag herself and letting the heat warm her wires. It was a strangely comforting feeling, the coils of smoke wrapping themselves around her internal systems.
The team leader puffed a cloud out, tapping the ashes away before getting back on topic.
"Why do you want to be in charge so bad?" BAR asked. "You don't have anything to prove, you know. You're the best fighter on the team, we all know that. But you never listen to any of us."
"...I just want everyone to stay safe." Thompson admitted, taking one last drag from her cigarette before she spat the thing out onto the range. "I still remember back during the war. Before they came up with the neural cloud backups. How many of us didn't make it out of Berlin, Barbie?"
"Your sister. My sister." BAR recalled somberly. "...I think she would've liked it here. I know she'd love Kalina, and she'd prolly have a crush on Assad."
"Don't tell Springfield that." Thompson quipped, leaning back on the palms of her hands and splaying her legs out. "...I can't lose y'all. Everyone else is gone, Bar. All of the others had our memories wiped when we left th'service."
"Always wondered how Griffin restored our databanks." BAR pondered. "Pretty sure it's illegal for us to even remember."
"Only illegal if someone gives a shit." Thompson points out, finally getting BAR to crack a smile and chuckle. The ice that had been building between the two friends finally began to thaw.
"They stopped makin' you and me's models. All these new girls I.O.P puts out, they weren't there. They ain't ever gonna understand." Thompson said, bringing up their ever growing age. "Honestly, I hope they never have to."
"Did I just hear Thompson say she wanted nice things to happen to people she's never met?" BAR asked in faux shock, staring at her companion with an exaggerated aghast expression. "Call the news, this is big! Next I'm gonna see flying Dinergates!"
Thompson rolled her eyes, slugging her friend in the shoulder with a smile. "Asshole."
BAR giggled, some of her old pep coming back into the limelight. A long, long time ago, she was just as energetic as M14. "...I think you're ready."
"Ready?" Thompson asked in confusion, sitting up again. "Ready for what?"
BAR didn't answer. Instead she collected the now full magazines, stuffing them into her bandoleer. After grabbing her weapon, she offered a hand down to her teammate.
"Let's get to the briefing first. Rather not get chewed out again."
(15:00)
"Get kitted up and on the transports. We're wheels up in fifteen."
The dolls shuffled out as that final order was given, M14 and PPK's voices shouting over everyone else's as they spoke of their excitement. Their first real mission after being put in this backwater.
Meanwhile, the team leaders stayed behind with the Commander and Kalina, mulling over the intelligence as he relayed his main battle plan.
"Thirty-six's team will stay with me at the airfield. We'll bring mobile command equipment and set up in that old control tower." Hsu explained, pointing to the satellite image of the tall building in question. The upper dome was large, plus it provided a good line of sight over the entire area.
"Bar, your team is the spearhead." He explains, running his finger from the airfield to the rendezvous point. "Cut a direct path through this old industrial farm complex. Engage any Sangvis you see, don't leave any in our backline."
"What if we get cut off?" BAR asks, eying the territory with moderate discomfort. "This is all no-man's land, anywhere could be an ambush."
"Headquarters is tasking a few armed helicopters for air support." Hsu explained, his mouth creasing with discomfort as he felt inclined to agree. "It's not much, but it's a few 'get out of jail free' cards."
"Kommandant , why don't we simply call for evacuation once we find them?" G36 questioned, noticing the rather long hike the combat team would have to take into enemy territory. "Returning on foot will expose the wounded."
"Anti-air fire. Even the gun-runs are going to have to be extremely short." The commander pointed out once more, leaning on the table. "BAR's team needs to just keep their speed and avoid getting bogged down. Thirty six, you need to fortify this air-strip so we can fight off whoever comes after them."
"Khan and I already have some auto-turrets prepped. They're being loaded onto the birds right now!" Kalina promised, something that gave G36 some level of relief. Given time, they could turn the zone into something defensible. But it would still be touchy.
"If there's nothing else, we need to get going." Hsu points out. The maid clicked her heels together, saluting her Commander before marching out to join her comrades. BAR, however, stayed back.
"...Chief, I need to talk to you before we leave." She said, Kalina stopping in the door as she walked to leave as well. The bow-wearing girl spun back around, not wanting to miss anything juicy.
"Is it quick?" Hsu asked, seeing BAR nod. "Then what is it?"
BAR looked over her shoulder, towards the open door. "Thompson! Come on."
Being heeded, the silver haired girl re-entered the room. Kalina watched on with both surprise and excitement, watching on with glee as the stage was set for a new dramatic set piece. Hsu seemed far less enthused, but didn't say a word, letting BAR continue with what she had planned."
Though even he wasn't ready for what she said next.
"I want Thompson to take the lead this drop." BAR requested, Kalina and Thompson both doing a double-take.
"Excuse me?!" Thompson asked, not sure if she heard right. "Barbs, did you hit your head on your way here?"
"Things aren't working as they are, and this is the real deal." BAR explained further, still looking dead-on to the Commander as he kept a deadened look in his eye. "I'm not having a repeat of what happened with Garand."
"That wasn't your fault, I lead them to the roof." Thompson pointed out.
"It was under my watch, and I didn't come up with a plan, so it was. " BAR affirmed, smirking at Thompson's flustered disposition. Her cousin was blushing up a storm, and sputtering like nuts. You could almost hear her real accent come out from under the urban show.
Hsu stared at BAR, trying to figure the girl out. Why she was trying to pass the buck off now, of all times. It didn't seem like laziness, but… he could feel a load being removed from her shoulders with this request. As if she was being let free, her whole form unwinding.
"...Kalina, make sure those turrets are ready." He instructed, lifting a hand as Kalina got ready to protest. With a groan, the logistics officer went off to finally carry out her finishing touches. He then pointed to BAR. "And you, get the team prepped."
BAR nodded, hoofing it out of the room, leaving only the Commander and a still shellshocked Thompson.
"I didn't put her up to this." Thompson immediately said, defending herself.
"I believe you." Hsu answered. "I could tell from her body-language, this was a long time coming."
Thompson sighed, scratching the back of her head. The motion pulled her shirt up, revealing her midriff. "Cuz never liked being in charge. But she always did it anyway, felt obligated to try."
"But now she sees a better option." Hsu deducted.
Realization dawned in Thompson's mind. The last cryptic lines that BAR had said on the range before she left. "...That's what she meant by me bein' ready. That's why she's waited so long. She was testin' me."
Hsu huffed, but didn't find the heart to mock the idea. If anything, it sounded valid. All this time, before he had even arrived, BAR seemed to be grooming her junior for this moment. This hot-headed, egotistical Al Capone wannabe. Somehow she'd managed to get even her respect.
Maybe BAR wasn't fit to be a leader. But she certainly seemed to be a half-decent mentor.
"Do you want this?" Hsu asked, a pact starting to form in his head. While BAR seemed to have confidence, he still didn't trust this girl. Not fully.
"...Yeah, I do." Thompson affirmed, her confidence swelling back. "And I want her as my second."
Hsu nodded. "Then I'll allow it, on one condition." He pulled up the echelon formation, each of the five girls' portraits projected above the table behind him. BAR's was still slotted in the first rung, with Thompson right behind.
"No casualties on this drop." He began, delivering his ultimatum. "None of the Vee-Eye-Pees lost. Even if you have to throw yourself on a grenade, even if you have to use yourself as a shield, you get this done."
Worry once again crawled up into Thompson's throat, sensing there was a catch. "And if I can't pull it off?"
"Then you're leaving my base. Permanently." Hsu affirmed. "I'll have command reassign you to some swampy hellhole, far away from here."
Hsu adjusted himself, sitting on the edge of the table as he swore he saw a bead of sweat fall down the woman's forehead. "Leading means responsibility. Responsibility means consequences. If you can't take one, you get nothing. Deal?"
"Deal." Thompson answered, the words coming out before she could even process them.
Hsu smirked, lifting a hand and touching the projection. With a swipe, Thompson's picture was moved to the front. The words 'COMMAND PROTOCOL REASSIGNED' flashed in a bright red, before the whole projection faded away.
He then turned back to the new leader, praying this crazy gamble was going to work.
"Do not disappoint me, Captain."
