(13:13)

Surprisingly, this was the first time Helianathus had ever been to Sector Nine.

It was one of the least important sectors that she oversaw. No real strategic value to be had, nor had it been a particular flashpoint for conflict. It was a logistical center, to be sure. Vital to their supply lines. But usually out of the way enough that it wasn't under contention.

Of course that was all about to change, assuming her hunch was correct.

Truth be told, she was hoping she was wrong. This outpost was unlikely to hold against any sustained attack. The walls were made to keep bandits out, not an organized force. With the airstrip and the hangars, Sector Nine's current roster didn't have a chance to cover all the ground. Not without a strong augmentation.

Helian stepped off the Blackhawk to breathe in the rural air. Fuel tainted it, but it was still fresher than the megacity that was Petrograd. Bren stood to her side, holding her namesake by it's carrying handle as she scanned the area.

"Quaint. Sten will certainly love it here." Bren observed. "These forests seem like the place Lee would enjoy hunting in."

"Assuming Welrod gets them here." Helian mused, her eyes narrowing as their welcome party of one came to greet them. Kalina marched with a pep in her step, waving to the flight crew as they began to set up the helicopter for transport into one of the hangars. She placed herself right before the Subdirector and her underling, beaming brightly at both.

"Miss Helian! My, you look wonderful. Have another date to scare off later tonight?" The logistics officer teased, her mirth growing as the grey haired Scot rolled her eyes and Bren chuckled at the barb.

"Good to see Kryguer's pet cat is keeping herself entertained." Helian shot back without even flinching, having verbally sparred with the Director's adoptive daughter on more occasions than most would be able to stand. "Still skimming off Griffin funds?"

"I haven't done anything you can prove." Kalina responded gleefully, spinning around and walking towards the central buildings. Helian and Bren both joined her, walking along the edge of the still active airstrip. "But it is good to see you again."

"Likewise." Helian admitted, her eyes focusing on a cargo helicopter taking off and soaring in a northerly direction. "How have things been?"

"Lively! The past few months have been the most fun I've had since they moved me here." Kalina chirped. "Lots of work, especially with the missions. But the people here are nice! And the Commander really livens up the place."

Helian watched the young woman carefully, not sure how that tracked. Her experiences with Hsu ranged from yelling to defiance to bartering. And while they were all certainly lively, she wouldn't use that word to describe Hsu himself.

No, the term she'd prefer was 'royal pain in her arse.'

Still, he had been effective. The right man in the right place at the right time. If they'd placed any other new Commander here, one that didn't have his experience or skill set, things likely would have ended very differently. Certainly not as well as they had been, considering the string of successes after falling flat on his face at the start.

Her personal contact on this base hadn't said anything since he sent her that first red flag. Whatever nonsense the Canadian had been planning to do with these dolls' emotion modules, he'd seemingly abandoned them. Maybe because he had too much on this plate, maybe he'd begun to see the benefits of having machines that could think for themselves. Maybe because he'd actually begun to care for the girls.

Helian smiled at that thought, wishful thinking that it was. Once they found him, now was as good a time as any to ask.


(13:20)

The cafe was filled with smoke as the base's weekly poker match was well underway.

The usual suspects were all present. Thompson, a half-burnt cigarette hanging from her mouth. BAR, once again shielding her eyes with a pair of designer aviators. Garand, now using her beret as a fan due to the sweltering heat of the Black Sea's summer. Springfield was behind the counter, humming happily to herself as she pulled a fresh pecan pie from the oven. M14 hung around the table, watching with full attention.

This time, however, there were several new faces present. Three at the table, ,pre floating about the cafe.

Hsu sat next to Garand, watching the pot swell further than he'd wanted. Even though he'd forced them to play at a lower blind, there was still well over a thousand euros on the line now. And that was money he wouldn't mind pocketing for himself.

StG-44 sat at the table as well, muttering to herself in frantic German as she stared at her cards. The tailor had removed her hat and coat, along with having undone her tie. Water began to blotch around her collar as her older body tried to 'sweat' away the excess heat.

IWS-2000 was present as well, completely lost. She'd never gambled before in her life, and joined in at Thompson's insistence that this match was going to be a friendly, casual game. She'd already lost five-hundred euros, and was about to lose even more.

The others were entertaining themselves in their own methods. K11 and Type 100 sat chairs across from one another, playing a Nintendo handheld and totally oblivious to the high stress situation close to them. AUG leaned against the wall with a glass of tonic water, wishing her friend hadn't joined this silly game. PPsH-41 hung off of M14's side, watching the match with as much eagerness as her American counterpart.

M4A1 simply remained at the bar, quietly observing all present while nibbling on a brownie Springfield had been so kind to bake.

"Das ist Quatsch…" StG muttered bitterly as Thompson called yet again. "You're hiding cards up your sleeve. I know you are."

"Yeah, yeah. Cry me a river, blondie." Thompson brushed off as she knocked back a shot.

"Three of us are blondes, Thompson." Garand reminded casually, raising the pool by another fifty. "Four, if you count Aug hiding like she's Batwoman."

"Do not count me." AUG interjected flatly.

"Remind me again why I agreed to gamble with a bunch of androids who've got supercomputers for brains?" Hsu asked, genuinely. Despite that, he called at the new rate, tossing another wad of bills into the center of the table.

"Because we've been bugging you to do it for weeks." BAR told him, holding her hand out to Thompson. The gangster passed over her pack of cigarettes, one of which BAR sparked up and puffed from and looked over to IWS. "Hey, new girl. Your turn."

"Um… go fish?" IWS said nervously, earning a wide variety of looks from each person present at the table. StG looked liable to kill her, BAR looked totally baffled, Hsu was emoteless as always, while Garand and Thompson were desperately trying to stop themselves from laughing.

"Oh come on!" IWS exclaimed, breaking the dam as the two Americans along with M14 began to howl like hyenas. The Austrian became extremely flustered, quickly bordering on tears. "I told you all I don't know how to play this game!"

"Which is exactly why they suckered you into joining." AUG chirped from the sideline.

"I would have preferred if she wasn't here so we could get zhis going." StG grumbled, green eyes returning to her hand.

"You take cards way, way too seriously." BAR observed, StG redirecting her ire at her. The German snarled as she made a move for her boot, but Hsu lifted a hand.

"No knives." The Commander ordered, StG puffed her cheeks out, but complied as she simply returned to observing her hand.

As the group continued to chatter and bicker about the match. M4A1 continued to observe silently. The android was cataloging all the information she could about each of the other dolls, curiously learning what she could.

This was the first time she'd ever been around so many different people for so long. More often than not, the AR team would be off on missions far away from any places to socialize. Uncivilized forests and abandoned cities, long lost laboratories and defunct military bases. Not the kind of venues one could find friends.

Like IWS, she'd never played poker. She'd never had an alcoholic beverage in her life, and she almost never indulged herself with sweets. Springfield had sensed this, somehow, and immediately had her plop down and taste test her new recipe. 'Cinnamon toast brownies', she'd called them. And they tasted as delicious as they sounded.

"They're quite lively, aren't they?." Springfield chimed, placing a glass of milk on the counter next to M4. The older doll smiled, leaning onto the counter as she enjoyed the banter between her friends. "Never was much for gambling, myself. But I never miss one of Thompson's games."

M4 nodded along, taking the glass and sipping away. Her older counterpart couldn't help but giggle at how meek this newcomer was, and in a stark contrast to how she dressed as well. "How have you settled in, by the way? Has the Commander addressed the issue with your quarters?"

M4 nodded again, placing the glass down and wiping away the milk mustache that had formed. "Mister Khan's been letting me rest in his room. He said he spends most of his nights in the engineering bay, so it's fine."

Springfield sighed, shaking her head. "Assad would do something like that. He's always been very particular on making sure our needs are met."

"He seems very kind." M4 noted as well, noting a spike in volume with the discussion at the poker table. "So does Missus Santiago and Miss Kalina."

Springfield noticed she didn't mention the Commander, but made no comment to that effect. "And how about the other dolls? Make any friends?"

M4 shook her head, having kept to herself over the few weeks she'd been here. Most of the time she found herself wandering the grounds, practicing at the firing range, or going through various combat simulations. After her initial experience with Thompson, she'd shirked away from integrating herself.

It was unlikely that she'd be around for much longer, regardless. Once the rest of her team was found, they'd move on as they always had.

This thought was cut off by a loud yell, both M4 and Springfield spinning to see Thompson's arm being held up by BAR, with something that looked suspiciously like a playing card popping out from her sleeve. Not even a second later, StG flew over the table and tackled the American to the ground. Roars of angry German and English filled the room, with others quickly diving in to try and separate the two combatants.

"Ich werde dich verdammt noch mal mit deinem eigenen Kern füttern! Dein KERN!" StG44 continued to roar while she kept her hands clamped around Thompson's neck, both BAR and M14 desperately trying to pry her off. Springfield hopped the bar counter herself, deciding to intervene before someone got hurt.

The others either watched on in horror or didn't involve themselves. K11 and Type 100 continued their Smash Brothers bout, AUG remained cloaked in the shade, and M4 didn't even know what to do.

"Mind telling me what she's saying IWS?" Hsu asked casually, scooping up what euros he could while everyone was distracted.

IWS continued to watch the fistfight in objective horror, but provided a translation. "She's going to feed her own fire control core to her..."

"Huh." The Commander mused, slipping another twenty mark note into his vest. "Neat."

G36 showed up shortly after, beaming in disbelief at the rabble's actions but gravitating herself quickly to Hsu's side. The man looked up and nodded, adjusting the sleeves of his uniform coat. "I take it she's here?"

"Waiting in the command room as we speak." G36 responded, ushering the man to his feet. She adjusted his uniform further, straightening his hair and dusting off specs of potato chips that he'd been eating during the game.

"Please try to not embarrass the entire outpost. I'd like my reputation with the sub-director to remain as is." The maid pleaded, before producing a breath mint from her pocket and offering it over. "And for all of our sakes, whatever you do, don't bring up whatever relationships you're in."

"I'm happily single." Hsu assured, taking the mint from her hand and tossing it into his mouth.

"I find it hard to believe you're 'happily' anything." G36 noted sarcastically, right as the sound of crashing wood echoed through the room. Both she and Hsu turned their heads to see both Thompson and StG on their feet, both of their respective blades drawn as they began to circle one another.

"That escalated." Hsu said blithely, stating the obvious before turning to face a now mortified G36. "You're up, Gretel."

"Excuse me?" G36 questioned, swapping her gaze back and forth from the Commander and the emerging knife fight. All of the other dolls now had made a clear effort to back away if they hadn't already, even those who weren't paying attention before.

"Remember, as adjutant, you're in charge of personnel management." Hsu chimed, gesturing over as Thompson began to verbally gode her opponent into making the first move. "Might want to act fast, though."

"What about the meeting?! You said you needed someone there to provide further information about the operation!" G36 reminded him, trying to find a way out of this. Hsu thought for a moment, knowing that she was right. He then had an idea come to his head, then released a low whistle.

"IWS, come with me." He commanded. The sniper jumped in her chair, confused as to why she was suddenly called upon. But as she saw the Commander begin to leave the room, she gladly took the escape route presented and dashed off behind him. G36 watched them both leave, utterly dumbstruck at how she'd been abandoned to her fate.

At that moment, Thompson and StG44 rushed each other and slammed back onto the ground. The cafe once again erupted in pleas from the other dolls for them to stop, and G36 groaned aloud.

"He needs to give me a bigger raise." She complained, rolling up her sleeves before going over and beginning to bark commands.


(14:09)

Helian sat across from the Commander and the two dolls he'd brought with him, mentally combing over everything they had reported.

Each had gone over everything they'd experienced. From the end of the rescue operation reaching all the way back to the mission that had started this whole affair. M4A1 had explained where she and her sisters had gone, what they had encountered, the details of their escape and how they had initially planned to regroup. Hsu pointed out the growing presence of Sangvis across the eastern portions of Sector Nine, and how civilians were pulling closer and closer to the coast. IWS hadn't been able to reveal much, but she was able to relay her observations as to how strong the Sangvis contingent appeared to be.

All of the information served to confirm Helian's initial suspicions; that Sangvis Ferri was planning to hit this sector and hit it hard. Still, it didn't appear that they'd assembled the forces to do so just yet. It gave them ample time to prepare and plan, though their continued presence in the sector was bothering her.

M4 had returned to their custody, and had been secure for two weeks now. Any information she had stolen from them had been seized by now, sent to 16Lab for analysis and decryption. But they still seemed to be coagulating, preparing for some kind of incursion.

Furthermore, M4 remained closeted. There were gaps in her story, along with information she bluntly refused to share. Something that greatly annoyed Helian, but she couldn't do anything about it. The AR team had been on an op for 16Lab, not for Griffin. And until Persica herself wanted to share, Griffin wouldn't know what they had been doing so far in the badlands.

It was all very, very aggravating, But this was par for the course as far as her interactions with the scientist went.

Once it was clear that M4A1 wasn't going to tell them anything else, Helian dismissed her. The shy girl slipped away without further word, leaving both of the humans with their personal plus-ones. Bren hovered behind Helian, seemingly displeased with being stuck in the arse end of nowhere. IWS hid close to Hsu, not wanting to be caught in another conflict after barely dodging the previous one.

Neither Hsu nor Helian said anything for a long time. Both simply stewing in their own thoughts.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here." Helian finally spoke, making IWS jump out of her seat in surprise. Bren rolled her eyes, but returned to the book she had begun to read.

"Figured you'd tell me eventually, ma'am." Hsu replied, casually nursing his coffee mug. It was the best way he could hide his sheer displeasure of having a member of the brass breathing down his neck. Nothing good ever came of a higher up coming down to 'grace' a line officer with their presence.

"I have reason to suspect that this sector will be a warzone very soon." Helian continued, clasping both hands together. "Sangvis is making a push, and Sector Nine could be their true objective."

"Makes no sense. We're a logistics depot." Hsu dismissed. "Nothing of value here except guns and ammo they can't use and don't need."

"And yet they're still appearing in growing numbers in your territory." Helian countered.

"Could be gunning for something behind us." Hsu rationalized. "Unless they're trying to catch her… 'siblings'."

Helian smirked at how the Candian had difficulty in using the term. Even after months on base, he hadn't grown comfortable with how human their company's dolls acted. Though he was far less prickly than the initial reports had relayed.

"That is one of many working theories." She responded, glad that he wasn't going to remain contrarian. "Regardless, as your direct superior, I intend to help you fend them off."

"That means you're assuming Command?"

"No. It means I'm supervising." She assured, assuaging absolutely none of the Commander's doubts. "But I will take control if this gets out of hand."

"...I didn't catch it before. But you're ex-military. Not a draftee or a volunteer either. You were a regular." Hsu commented, having tabbed onto how Helian carried herself. Constantly poised, analysing each room she sat in. Always facing the door or a close route of exit.

"And you were a reservist."

"I was on the front all six years." Hsu affirmed, steel entering his voice.

"Still a reservist." Helian commented, no mockery in her tone. At least none that anyone could perceive.

"Um… would you both prefer if I left?" IWS chirped from her seat, making both of the humans in a room share a look.

"You're free to leave if you want." Hsu permitted, not having much feeling one way or the other. Helian said nothing, leaving the Austrian to decide for herself if she wanted to stay or go. For a moment, it seemed like she'd choose the latter, but then she settled back into her chair.

Helian, meanwhile, pressed her questioning.

"Our time between one another has been almost consistently adversarial." Helian explained, removing her monocle and wiping it clean. "To be honest, it's rather tiring."

"When we first met, you made it clear what the pecking order was."

"When we first met, not only were you late, you grated against one of your subordinates." The Scotswoman reminded, getting the man to back down again. "Who is now your adjutant, I hear."

Hsu nodded in affirmation as Helian slipped her eyewear back on. "Have the girls grown on you?" She asked.

"A few." Hsu answered honestly. He was growing comfortable around the androids, after what had felt like years. "Dolls here in Europe get treated like junk. Not like it's that much better back home, but here it's…"

"Extreme." Helian admitted, glancing at a now visibly uncomfortable IWS. "These girls do good work. Even if their consciousnesses are simulated, treating them poorly seems like needless cruelty."

"Why is it so bad here, though?"

"In the Americas, dolls are still somewhat uncommon. In Europe, they're a regular part of society. That leads many to believe they're expendable."

Hsu frowned, but understood the logic. The more dolls there were, the less of a fascination they were. It was easier to see the androids as just another utility or appliance. He looked over at the doll in the room, seeing her nervously pull at the hem of her skirt. "That the same for you, IWS?"

She shook her head, but held a guilty expression. "I was a custom model, so no. My original employers treated me well."

Hsu grunted, keeping her reaction in mind for later. "Seems like a trend with the Germans here."

"Um… I'm actually Austrian, Herr Hsu." IWS corrected nervously.

"Next you're going to tell me you were a painter." Hsu said, earning a dark chuckle from Helian.

"I was a librarian and that joke is hurtful!" The sniper protested, puffing her cheeks out indignantly.

The Commander allowed himself to smirk at her reaction, wondering how a doll programmed to shelf books became an elite mercenary. But he didn't feel like teasing her any further, especially with how divisively she'd reacted to the mocking sentiment given to her by the other dolls prior. But all it did was make her seem sheltered, even in ways that surpassed M4A1.

Helian stood to her feet, slipping her datapad under her shoulder and gesturing towards the door. "If you'll permit me, Major. I'd like to take a stop by the repair bay and speak with your Chief of Engineering."

"Khan?" Hsu asked, standing along with his superior. "Well, if he's there. The man tends to make his own office hours."

"That the same for all your Command staff?"

"No need to pull their leashes if they get the job done." Hsu answered with a shrug, moving towards the door. "IWS, go check if they're done cleaning up the cafe. And tell Thirty-Six or Springfield to get lunch ready."

"Y-yes Sir!" The sniper answered, darting past the two humans and speeding down the hallway. Both Hsu and Helian glanced at one another again, bemused at how quickly she seemed to want to depart from their presence. The Commander then gestured down the hall, guiding the woman towards her desired destination.

Hopefully the scuffle from earlier had resolved itself by now.


(14:20)

"Hold still, unless you want me to make this cut bigger!"

Thompson chafed as Khan continued to seal the last cut on her arm closed. In the aftermath, she'd ended the fight with only a handful of injuries. Light, too. Nothing that meant she needed any limbs replaced or intensive repair, but it did mean that for the past half hour she'd been sitting here while the Englishman closed her wounds and sealed them with thermal paste. On the plus side, it at least meant she'd have some mean looking scars.

The other injured party didn't feel the same way.

G36 seethed in her chair, bandaging wrapped tight around her torso as she waited her turn. A deep red blotch was present close to where her belly button would have been, though it had finally stopped getting larger as her automated systems closed off coolant flow to the damage area.

StG44 was still in the cafeteria, Garand and BAR having tied her to one of the chairs and stripped her of any other sharp objects. Though when they'd left, she'd seemed more concerned with the state of her echelon leader than being detained.

It was oddly sweet. Especially considering Thompson was the one who'd shanked her.

With one last stroke, Khan finished up with his work. He packed away some of his tools, instructing them both to wait while he went to grab some things so he could finish up. A minute later, he had left, leaving the two Captains alone in the repair bay.

"You really had to get in the way, didn't'cha?" Thompson bemoaned, running her hand over her arm to make sure the repair was solid.

"It stopped you both." The maid pointed out, trying to sit still and avoid moving around. "Better this than a worse alternative."

Thompson scoffed, leaning back and relaxing. "Ain't my fault, I didn't wanna fight."

"Violence is deplorable." G36 commented brusquely, grunting as her pain sensors flared up. "It's bad enough we've seen so much of it."

The morose comment halted Thompson's more contrarian instincts. Usually she would have enjoyed a bit of verbal sparring with the most annoying doll she knew, but this time was different.

She'd noticed that the other leader had been carrying herself differently since the end of the last operation. G36 had somehow gotten even more strict, spending less time for herself and running into her duties with near reckless abandon. Several times, some had to drag her powerless chassis to the repair bay for a new battery.

Throwing herself between the two fighting dolls was just the latest event in her desire to be buried in work.

"Jesse's new body should be here soon." Thompson redirected. "Any idea when?"

"Miss Kalina told me it should arrive friday." G36 answered, head hanging back as she continued to stare wistfully at the ceiling. Thompson scowled, resigning herself to playing the supportive role for her junior. Or senior, now. At least on base.

"Not gonna lie, was starting to miss the pipsqueak." Thompson admitted, regularly having dealt with the girl whenever Springfield took her for training exercises. "Gonna be nice to have someone else around to clean this shithole. Plus you ain't gonna be down a doll anymore."

G36 exhaled deeply. "She'll have forgotten so much. She won't even know what she did. How she… saved me."

"Someone dying in your place is… not gonna lie, it fuckin' stings." Thompson admitted. "But she did it for a reason. She cared about you, Kraut. Still will when we get her back online."

G36 shook her head, unconvinced. "I should've protected her. I should have been the one to shield her."

"And then you would've died instead, and your echelon would've been stuck in hostile territory and surrounded without their leader. That sounds way worse than what actually happened."

The maid had no counter to that. It was a logical response. It was the right response. Short of having dived out of the blast radius completely, how much better would it have been if she died? Or if StG44 had died? Or any other possible combination, through out the whole mission. What had started off as a simple reconnaissance job had devolved into an absolute mess of variables, mistakes and casualties.

She was the leader. She was supposed to bring them all home. And on her first mission, her first real combative action, she'd taken serious casualties and had to rely on humans to risk their lives to save her. And even then, she ended up injuring the Commander! She threw him to the ground like a wild animal!

Yet it still could have been so much worse. If Hsu or Khan had died, it would have been unforgivable.

"Does the guilt ever go away?" G36 asked in a mouse's voice. So quiet that no one other than a doll could hear.

Thompson sighed, thinking back to when she had to spend every day in combat. The amount of dolls and humans who died in place. The amount she had to kill so she could live.

"When it does, you'll be my first call." The American promised, slipping a toothpick in. "But it does get easier. And you'll learn to live with it."

G36 went quiet once more, contemplating the advice. Though eventually, one could hear a fit of giggles coming from her. The maid's somber attitude came apart as she fell headlong into delirium.

Thompson looked on, dumbstruck, pushing her shades down to make sure she wasn't seeing things. Her peer rarely even smiled, so to see her giggling would have been odd on a good day. "What? What's so funny?"

G36 kept giggling for a few moments more, before gathering enough sense to answer the woman's question. "You and the Commander try so hard to put up an act like neither of you care."

Thompson groaned at the revelation, but that only seemed to make her counterpart's giggles intensify. "Admit it! You want to be a nice person!"

"Please, God, no. Being nice sucks eggs." Thompson denied, but it did nothing to dissuade the inference. Though she had to admit, this was preferable to seeing the German in her previous state. Angry, she could handle. Sad just felt wrong.

Eventually, the maid collected herself once again. But she wasn't keen on stopping the conversation just yet. "...How did you get the name 'Annette' anyway?"

"Book. It was the codename of a spy in the forties. The spy was cool, so I picked it up.." Thompson answered. "You like it?"

"I like it." G36 confirmed. "Not as nice as mine, but still. Serviceable."

"Uh huh. Don't you got a witch to get eaten by or some shit?"

"The children kill the witch in the story."

"Whaaaatever." Thompson said with a yawn. "You feel better now?"

"Yes." G36 said, offering the American a genuine smile. "Thank you."

"Thank me by getting Old Man Hsu to look the other way over this." Thompson asked, settling her fedora down to shield her eyes. The gangster rested back, letting herself power down while the adhesive dried over her injuries.

G36 settled in, wondering how the Commander was handling himself without her assistance.

If he was handling himself.


A/N: I'm thinking one or two more chapters before we take another break. Try and get some filler in before jumping to the STAR/SOP rescue mission.

Until then, enjoy the slapstick.

o/