(26/6/2056 | 14:32)
BAR, Springfield and M4 took up positions around the pylon as M14 worked to activate the device.
Each of the dolls watched their sector of the perimeter. This zone where they were planting the sensors was thick with forest, giving them natural cover from prying eyes. The team was working on the second of this set, and already making good time. If they maintained this place, they'd likely be able to plant all the pylons before the sun even got close to the horizon.
Still, M4A1 was tense to say the least. Too much on her mind, even in all this quiet.
Unlike the others, she was able to rely on far more than her eyes. Her frame was built with all the amenities of modern conflict. Advanced motion tracking, which ensured she could watch more than what she simply saw. A semi-active electronic warfare module, allowing her to catch errant bandwaves and unencrypted radio traffic. Ocular nodes that gave her visual range far beyond most androids, let alone most humans. And a lightweight chassis meant she could traverse ground faster and with greater dexterity than any autonomous doll could hope for.
She was of the same caliber, if not greater, than the average military doll. And yet she wouldn't let herself relax.
Somewhere, across this barren war torn strip of the Soviet Union, her sisters were hiding. Waiting for her to come and save them from this dogged pursuit she'd abandoned them too. While she was safe and integrated into Griffin custody, they were being forced to fend for themselves against all odds. Sangvis, bandits, who knew what else.
If anything happened to any of them, she'd never be able to forgive herself. They'd done this to save her, now it was time she returned the favor. Prove once and for all she could lead them as well as M16 or STAR.
This silent panic was cut off when Garand gave her a tap on the ass with her boot. M4 jumped, having been so focused on the outside of the perimeter she'd ignored what was behind her. But as she looked up, she saw that Garand was holding a… granola bar?
Seeing her now visible confusion, Garand wiggled the snackbar. "You weren't in the cafe, and your battery's at half charge. Come on, it'll at least make sure you get through this first set."
M4 was baffled, but then verified that Garand was right. She then remembered that she hadn't really eaten in the past few days, spending all of her time on the range or scouring over local maps to make a search grid. The last 'meal' she'd had were those brownies that Springfield whipped up during the poker match gone horribly wrong.
Tentatively, she took the granola bar into her humanoid left hand. The girl took a careful nibble, tasting the chocolate mixed in with the nuts and grain before scarfing down the whole thing.
M4 ended the whole scene with a quiet 'burp', something that made her immediately blush while Garand laughed. The older doll sat down, letting her rifle rest between her legs and against her shoulder.
"So, Bar said it's fine if we use her account, but that means she gets first pick." She began to explain, rolling her eyes as she relayed the news. "So we're gonna have to sit through 'The Devil Wears Prada' first. Buuuut, after that, we get to choose. I'm thinking 'Fury', or maybe 'Hell on Wheels'. I'm doing the math in my head so we can swap from movie to movie with some quick breaks in between"
Garand looked to M4 for any input, but the shy girl merely stared at her. None of these titles had any meaning to her sheltered life, something that the blonde had to be reminded of.
"...We'll play it by ear." Garand promised, before digging out another granola bar. As she unwrapped her quick bite, M4 quietly nodded before finally speaking.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" She asked, not sure what to make of this unsolicited kindness. Not just from her, but Springfield as well. Both of the women had seemed to go out of their way to try and make her feel comfortable.
Garand looked at her like she had three eyes, obviously not understanding the point. "Because you seem like a nice person?"
"B-But… your Captain doesn't like me." M4A1 recollected, her tone growing quiet once more.
Garand snorted, finding humor at the cause of this inquiry. "Who, Thompson? She's a total bitch, who cares if she doesn't like you."
While she took another bite from her snack bar, M4 balked at the casual insult that the blonde threw at her team leader. "I thought you two were friends!"
The mechanic shook her head, wiping a few crumbs from her chin. "Annie is my friend. Which means it's my job to tell it like it is. Would you like it if your friends never told you about your flaws?"
M4 once again had no counter. She didn't have many 'friends', but her elder sisters often pointed out her errors. Both M16A1 and AR-15 were honest with her, and she valued that dearly. It was how she improved. It was how she knew they both cared, despite how emotionally distant STAR could be and how apathetically mellow M16 acted.
Yet it wasn't the comment that drew her attention the most.
"...Annie. She has two names?" She asked, curious about this quirk. Garand tilted her head, not understanding why it seemed so odd.
"Uh… yeah? Every doll had a name before coming here." She explained, as if she was speaking to a five year old. "Our owners had to call us something."
"But why still use them? You all work for Griffin now." The elite doll continued to question, not understanding why these other androids seemed to cling to their past lives.
This made Garand think, not having had to give an answer for this question before. She had one, but she'd never… formulated it. Put it into words for others to understand. All the other dolls she knew were either like her.
But M4A1 was different, it was obvious. Not just because of how she acted, but the way she seemed to be. She didn't act artificial, nor did she seem to carry quirks. Whenever Garand spoke to this new girl, it was like speaking to Khan, or Kalina, or Old Man Hsu.
She was eerily human. Both in nature and stature. But still, she took it upon herself to befriend this strange girl. Just as she had with Hsu. Because despite their flaws, she could tell they were good company.
With that in mind, she gave what answer she had.
"Griffin calls me Garand because of the rifle I use. I like the name, and I like my gun." She said, proudly patting the well maintained weapon of war. "But I'm more than a rifle, and I'm more than my job. I had a name before I joined Griffin. I had a name before I got 'acquired' by the Army. And I'll have one after I leave too."
M4 nodded along, not truly understanding, but Garand wasn't finished quite yet.
"That's my dream. One day I'll be able to have my own business. Be able to boss around androids and humans, but they'll work for me because I'm a good boss." She announced, staring up at the clear afternoon sky. "Not because of programming, or core orders, or whatever. Because they respect me, and they'll know I'll take care of them."
Garand chuckled at her own bravado. Even to her, it seemed silly. A doll being able to tell humans what to do. A doll living on their own without a human to call 'master.' But it was something that drove her, and filled her with hope. Besides, if a place like Griffin existed, so could a little repair joint.
Khan told her it was possible. And she was going to make it a reality. So, she looked over to M4A1 once again, smiling brightly at the younger android.
"So, yeah. I might be Garand now, but I've been 'Genevieve' a lot longer." She revealed. "But you can call me 'Genny'. Less of a mouthful, ya know?"
M4 stared back, again stunned by how forthright and sunny this woman was. The whole idea of hers seemed absurd. A doll being able to order humans. A doll being able to live beyond their directives and programming.
"Garand, M-Four!" BAR yelled, getting both girls to turn in her direction. The pylon was now active, and the other dolls were beginning to move out. BAR stayed behind, waving for the two to catch up.
Garand stood first, taking her rifle by the stock and lowering a hand to help M4 up. Silently, she took the assistance and rose, wiping some grass off of the coat tied around her waist.
It was a silly dream. But this girl before her was anything but silly.
(15:00)
The Commander and the Sub-Director stood in a hanger, watching a Griffin supply plane touch down along the base's runway. An old, retrofitted An-12 that had it's Ukrainian livery painted over with Griffin grey. It's engines roared ferociously, deafening anyone who was unfortunate enough to be outdoors and nearby. The aircraft was easily the largest plane to ever visit this base. The airstrip was barely rated to be able to handle something it's size.
As logistics personnel began to run towards the monster, Kalina followed suit. Bren watched on as Thompson and StG44 sauntered behind, having to drag a massive refueling hose from the stalled tanker truck over to its destination. Both looked utterly miserable, which made Hsu glad. It meant they wouldn't do anything stupid again. At least, for a while.
"This supply run should be enough to ensure the sector remains solvent on ammunition and spare weapon parts for the foreseeable future." Helian predicted, fixing her gaze on as the ramp began to come down. "Though I wasn't able to get any more doll frames. We're stretched thin with how heavy casualties have been."
"Ninety-Seven's new body is on that plane though." Hsu pressed, relaxing as he saw Helian's head bob in the affirmative.
"They'll upload her memory files to the core shortly." The woman assured further. "I'm sure her friends will be very, very pleased."
The Commander nodded quietly, but he still scowled. The time it had taken to get a new body for M1897 had been far too long. Her team had to operate at limited strength for weeks, and the lack of a breacher left a hole in their line up. Yet he could tell, with how things were escalating, any other dolls dying could take even longer to be repaired. And full body replacements would soon be nigh impossible.
"Was her chassis so hard to find a replacement for?" Hsu asked, wanting to know if this was going to be a recurring theme. Helian shook her head this time, giving him a side-eye.
"She's a 'Grade Three' doll. If it had only been her body, this likely would have taken less time." She told him. "But her entire AI core was torn to bits."
"Wish we had more replacement bodies." He reflected, the words not really sticking to him. The Star System that Griffin used to rate their dolls was somewhat esoteric, but he understood the gist of it now. Doll models were given star ratings, based on the quality of their frames and the complexity of their AIs. Though the higher quality the doll, the more expensive it was to fix them.
Helian, perceptive as always, caught on to his droll complaint. As Bren began to approach, she continued her train of thought.
"This base has a high concentration of quality dolls. Far higher than the company average." She reminded him. "Though the number of elites you have is still low."
"How does a doll get an 'Elite' designation anyway? I know it isn't because of their grades." He questioned, the moniker still not making much sense to him. The only Elites on base were Thompson and M4A1, but as far as he could tell they didn't share much in common.
"Combat ability along with their record. Star ratings are a measure of physical quality. Elite designations are a sign of skill." Helian explained clearly. "There is a correlation, however. Most elites are Grade Five. Though it's not unheard of for a Grade Four doll to be given the title."
"So do dolls earn it, or do they get the designation when they're brought into the company?"
"Either. Thompson earned the title, M-Four was an elite the moment she was turned on."
Hsu nodded, feeling as though he was gaining a better grasp of how Griffin dolls worked. He'd been spending time reading up on manuals and documents. Khan had even gone out of the way to give him a few lectures. All under G36's nose, he preferred that she didn't try to give herself even more work.
"So, are there any dolls on my roster that could become elite?" He asked, seeing Helian's brow scrunch as she contemplated the question.
"...The only one that comes to mind is Sturmgewehr." She deducted, her eyes fixing on the dapper German as she fixed the fuel hose onto the plane's underbelly. "She's been with Griffin longer than I have, and her record is strong. Before she came here she was even an echelon leader."
"I'm sensing a 'but' coming." He observed, right as Bren inserted herself into the conversation.
"She's only a Three-Star." The woman spoke, coming to a halt before the two human officers. "Her body wasn't built for fighting and the computational power of her digimind leaves something to be desired."
Hsu instinctively frowned, never liking when someone began to speak ill of one of his troops. But Helian hummed in agreement, shaking her head as she turned away from watching the subject of the conversation and back to her present company.
"Fourty-Four was built to be an industrial factory worker. Her frame is more robust than, say, Papasha's. But that doesn't mean it holds a candle to the likes of Sat or K-Eleven." She lamented. "Bren is in a similar situation; despite having a military neural cloud, her frame is…"
"She put me in a body designed for private security." Bren said, pointedly. Her glare was level with her personal Commander, Helian once again becoming pensive.
"So why don't we get them both better bodies?" Hsu questioned, to which Helian laughed.
"You're talking as if you can put a Digimind into any body you want. That isn't the case." Helian corrected. "The vast majority of artificial intelligences are designed with a body in mind. The capacity of a neural cloud or the personality of an android are built to tailor a body, not the other way around."
"It's a damned miracle Lady Helian was able to even find a civilian body that would accept my core." Bren lamented, cementing Hsu's understanding. Trying to place an AI into the wrong body would be like shoving a square block into a round hole, something would eventually break.
"So why don't we commission new and improved frames for their cores?"
"Illegal." Both women chimed, showing that they had clearly thought about this for far longer than he had.
The trio continued to speak on the subject, until Helian spotted a pink haired doll marching towards them. She was dressed in an old blue and red uniform from centuries prior, and a sun hat adorned with flowers accented her older looking horned glasses. Behind her was another trio of dolls, each wearing a cavalcade of colors that sprung out from the grey and brown of the airfield.
The older doll soon arrived, removing her hat and giving Helian a bow at the hip. "Lady Cameron. It's my pleasure to see you again after so many weeks."
Hsu looked to Helian curiously, having yet to hear anyone address her by her last name. Nor with more formality than her corporate position. L85A1 paid him no mind, however, instead going to beam at her fellow android.
"Beatrice, darling! Oh, you look lovely! Have you used that conditioner I gave you before we left?" She began to prattle, happy to re-engage with her old comrade.
Bren seemed less interested, instead offering a half lidded glare to the 2 star assault rifle. "Laura, where's our team?"
L85 blinked, looking over her shoulder as the new girls came closer before turning to face Bren once again. "Did… you not get the memorandum?"
"What memorandum?" Bren demanded through grit teeth. L85 desperately looked to Helian for assistance, but shrugged with a knowing smirk.
"Well…" L85 began. "The squadron has sadly been disbanded. High Command requested Welrod for special assignment. IDW was transferred to the northern front after Sangvis broke through our defensive line. And Sten…"
"She was transferred to an experimental echelon. 'Pallet Squadron' was what they were listed as in the briefing." Helian filled in, watching as Bren's frustration continued to mount.
"We were supposed to get my team." She continued to insist, now looking to berate Helian directly.
"We were supposed to get one of my personal teams." Helian countered, steeling her voice and putting Bren back in her place. "The members of Welrod's squad all have their own duties to the company, just as you do. Each of these girls has at minimum two years experience with Griffin, do not look a gift horse in the mouth."
Bren continued to steam, but realized there was nothing she could do at this point. "And who's running this gaggle?"
"I said 'gift horse' for a reason." Helian said, gesturing grandly at the oncoming girls. All of Bren's anger dissipated with that revelation, before she adjusted the coat of her uniform and nodded.
"O-of course, of course. Naturally." She said, trying and failing to redirect the present company from noticing the embarrassed blush that dusted her cheeks. Even L85A1 smiled at her normally stoic friend's show of emotion. Though it left as quickly as it came, Bren waving to the assault rifle wielder. "Leftenant Eighty Five. With me."
The two advanced, moving to meet the new dolls as they stood before the entrance of the hangar. One of them, a girl with a black and orange coat draped around her shoulders, lifted her hand up to wave at the two older dolls.
This was a mistake.
"STAND AT ATTENTION YOU MISERABLE WELPS!" Bren demanded, base booming from her voice as it reached an unnatural volume. Hsu flinched, not expecting the Brit to start going off at the cusp. Though Helian didn't make any true reaction, observing how this situation was going to unfold.
The dolls rushed to make a shoulder to shoulder line, each of them going to an attentive stance. The first girl, with green hair and the blackened coat, stood with her hands clasped at her midriff. The second, a taller doll with a pink wedge cap and a multi-colored sailor's outfit, stood at ease. The third was laden in military gear, flashbangs on her hip and chemlights in her coat pocket.
Bren bristled, seeing as none of them seemed to understand what 'at attention' meant, but paid it no mind. She walked down the line, glaring at each of the tactical dolls as L85 followed behind her dutifully.
"My name is Bren. You lot call me Captain, and only Captain." She introduced, coming to a halt before the center of the formation. "From this moment on, each of you does what I say. When I say it. How I say it."
"Yes C-" The first girl began to say, before Bren zipped over and began to bare down.
"I DID NOT GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SPEAK, YOU DAFT YANK!" Bren belted, going into a full tirade that began to drag the entire echelon along for the ride. As she grew further and further in volume, Hsu and Helian shared a look before slinking away and walking back towards the main building.
Hsu looked over his shoulder, his mouth curling in displeasure as Bren continued to terrorize the new arrivals.
"...I won't say it publicly, but she doesn't seem like good leadership material." He mentioned brusquely, to which Helian looked up to him with a passiveness that made her emotions unreadable.
"Bren has a tactical mind that civilian dolls can't possess. But she's also a brute." Helian admitted as they finally escaped earshot of Bren's tirade. "This 'promotion' is also a test. I need to gauge how much she's grown."
"Grown implies she used to be worse. That's worrying."
"We've all become different people since our soldiering days, Major. That goes double for an android who's still coming to terms with living in a civilian body." She pointed out, moving Hsu to relent. He had to admit, Bren's situation was certainly unique. All the other dolls were planned out to be part of the commercial or industrial sectors. But Bren was the only who's AI was forged for fighting wars. Like she was the lone assault rifle in an armory of single action shotguns.
Even he couldn't fully relate to that. He'd had a life outside of the Army. At least, before the war.
"I'll trust your judgement." He assured. "Though that cast of characters you brought in is probably going to weird her out."
"If you think they're weird now, wait until you mention maple syrup around Fifty.." Helian commented brusquely, before snickering. "Maybe she's your long lost sister, eh?"
Hsu rolled his eyes,
before smiling as a dig came to mind.. "Sure. And the dainty English lady in the sunhat's the mother in law you'll never have."
Helian looked to the man, doe-eyed before frowning. "You cheeky little-." She began, nudging the man firmly in his rib. It stung, but it didn't stop his victorious chuckle.
(16:22)
"One, set ." M4A1 reported, the red ring of her holographic sight centered on her target.
"Two, ready." Garand spoke from her tree, rifle poking out from the leafs.
"Three, set. On my mark." Springfield spoke, using the Zener Protocol to put a timer on their HUDs. Counting down from the minute marker, each of the girls held their positions until the clock read 0:00.
Three sharp cracks rang out, three bodies fell to the ground.
BAR and M14 sat next to the final pylon, lazing around as the shots filled the air. They'd already called for a pick up to the next zone, when M4 had spotted movement on her motion tracker. They had put an ID on the new arrivals, and after conferring amongst one another, decided it was better to break weapons discipline than find a whole new LZ.
Over the hill, they saw the trio marching back. Each girl with their rifle slung, hands low under the crest.
BAR stood to her feet, taking up her weapon and calling out. "Did you get them?"
The three paused, looking between each other, before lifting their hands. Each of the girls held a freshly shot turkey in their hand, held by the gizzard.
"Wooo!" M14 cheered, popping up and running over. She continued to hop around the three, cheering them on for their sharpshooting as they came over.
BAR smiled happily, lifting her aviators up as the team coalesced back around the pylon.
"I think I'd call this a successful mission." The interim leader decided, licking her lips while M14 drooled over the fresh meat.
"Still can't believe they have turkeys out here." Garand commented, looking at her kill with absolute amazement. "They're not native to this part of the world, right?"
"The Soviets introduced a bunch in an effort to help revive the ecosystem." Springfield educated, cradling her bird in both hands as she checked to make sure not too much of the meat had been damaged.
"When you think about it, aren't turkeys just really fat penguins?" M14 asked, prompting Garand to look at the girl in sheer disbelief.
"No more late night snacks." Garand declared, making the girl complain as she then tossed her bounty into her bewildered arms. Garand then sauntered over to BAR's side. The older machine gunner watched as Springfield held firm against M14's cries, pleading she wouldn't be deprived of her 'midnight flapjacks.'
"So, what do you think?" BAR asked, watching the group as M4 continued to watch on curiously.
Garand shrugged, wiping some reddened feathers off of her sleeves. "She's a good shot. Almost as good as me or Springfield. And the software she has is out of this world. Got a look through Zener, I'm kinda jealous."
"Anything we need to tell the Old Man?"
"Probably just go easy on her." Garand advised. "She's got serious social anxiety. Honestly, I doubt she'd be able to talk to anyone if they didn't come to her."
BAR nodded, checking her watch for their transport's ETA. She'd figured as much already from her small encounters with the timid girl, but it was good to have secondary confirmation.
Still, something about this whole thing rubbed her the wrong way. M4A1's arrival seemed to be making all of their lives a lot more complicated, and she didn't appreciate that. This was supposed to be an easy assignment, not a full blown warzone.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" Garand requested, stepping between BAR and the others. "You and Hsu seem to be working better lately."
BAR shrugged, looking up from her clock. "We came to an understanding."
"Uh huh." Garand noted, looking at her slyly. "I told you he wasn't a bad guy."
BAR rolled her eyes, but didn't resist the point. "Yeah, yeah. I was wrong, he's not evil. Just…"
Garand nodded her head along. "We still don't know why he's here."
"Has he told you? You're in the Command Center a lot."
"Getting the Old Man to talk about himself is like trying to get Fourteen to stop eating chips. You're not gonna get anywhere."
M14's howling punctuated the point, making BAR grow even more sullen. "I just don't like it. Why's a Canadian working for a Soviet PMC? Why this PMC?"
"Griffin does international recruitment drives. Santiago's from Rio, remember? Ninety-Seven and I were Stateside before we came."
"Santiago was scouted." BAR clarified. "And you two didn't have many other options."
Garand rolled her eyes, clearly showing that she believed that her elder was reading far too into this. Was it strange that their new Commander was an expat? Sure. But she also wasn't going to assume there was something else going on when Occam's Razor still applied.
"Well, I'm gonna go help Springfield pluck the birds. You can stand here and run your conspiracy theories through your algorithms."
"Oh, pound sand." BAR said, scowling for a few moments longer before she settled back down into the grass.
Maybe she was looking for something that wasn't there. The situation wasn't that bizarre, and it wasn't like Griffin didn't take on people from all over the planet. It was an internationally traded company for crying out loud.
Be that as it may, it still bothered her.
(16:34)
The convoy had been making good time. Most of the roads along the coast had been repaired by the Kievan Governorate years ago, one of their efforts in trying to bring Ukraine back from the grave. It meant that the Ural trucks carrying the goods were able to travel without worry of damaged suspensions or impromptu detours.
It also meant that their path was well known, which was making IWS more than a bit anxious.
While the other girls were still enjoying themselves, taking in the scenery of this country they'd never been to before and gawking at the expanse of the Black Sea, she remained vigilant. She stood behind the cab of the truck, using the scope of her rifle to observe the ground before them.
She was used to these kinds of convoys. Griffin often had to handle EOD in the more far flung parts of the Union. It was why she'd had this rifle imprinted to her in the first place, to destroy explosives from a safe distance. Her old team spent more time disposing unexploded JDAMs or removing dud artillery shells than fighting Sangvis.
This was her first dedicated combat assignment. And frankly, it was driving her nerves wild.
This team that had been put under her and AUG was a gaggle. One used to be a chemist before she'd been fired for 'misuse of unstable compounds.' The other had been a shrine guardian in Japan before being sold off at an auction. And the last one was a *gas station attendant*. Each of them had smarts, and they certainly had the tech, but their combat ability left something to be desired.
She still remembered the mission in the city, where S.A.T.8 and Type 100 had charged right into the hue of Sangvis dolls that had been attacking the park. She also remembered explicitly telling them to stay still, and not to go off with bayonets. But of course, they didn't listen. And K11 had almost blown them to pieces because of it.
It was demoralizing. Her team liked her a lot, but they didn't seem to respect her orders.
As she kept her watch, she wondered why she'd been tapped for this new assignment. Her time with Griffin had been far beyond the front, and in truth she wasn't much for fight anyway. The idea of shooting humans made her digimind almost fracture, be it because of her programming or genuine revolusion. Sangvis was one thing, they were drones. Even if you destroyed the body, their minds were intact. Just like them.
But humans… humans were fragile. And mortal.
"Sit down." AUG instructed, watching the waves of the sea crash against the rocks. "You're making yourself a target."
IWS huffed, but did as she was told. The sniper moved down from her nest, pulling the large rifle off of the cab's roof and letting it nestle between herself and her second in command.
"You're still nervous." AUG observed, monotone voice and bored expression ever paramount. "It's annoying."
IWS pouted, hands going on her lap. "Of course I'm nervous. You heard the Commander, there's bandits out here!"
"And we're heavily armed tactical dolls. If something happens, we'll deal with it."
"Easy for you to say. You don't care what happens."
"You're right, and neither should you." She affirmed. "We're robots. Stop acting as if anything matters outside of the mission. It's why you're a bad Captain."
"Give me one good reason that I am a bad Captain!" IWS protested, pouting childishly at this blunt attack on her ability to lead. Yet her companion felt no compulsion to hold back her words, and decided to do more than what was asked of her.
"You're meek, uninspiring, overly defensive, constantly clamoring for the approval of your peers, and terrified of spiders." AUG listed, eyes resting on her 'leader' with a bored sternness that dared the former librarian to challenge her words.
"...It's not my fault they're so spooky..." Was the only counter she could provide, something that made even the usually emoteless AUG groan in disbelief.
"I should have stayed in Innsbruck." She muttered, before beginning to inspect her weapon's optics.
IWS fell into a sulk, giving the other girls a side-eye as they continued to be utterly oblivious to their discussion. Even now, after spending a few weeks together, it felt like they were more comfortable among one another than with herself or AUG.
"Do you… miss home, sometimes?" IWS asked.
AUG shook her head. "I doubt the Bishop has noticed my departure."
"That's… not what I asked."
"A tool does not lament being put in a new box." She reiterated
"We're not just tools!" IWS protested.
"Then explain to me why you wanted to leave? Joining Griffin was your idea." AUG asked, deflecting from the point in a way she knew IWS wouldn't be able to resist.
"Because I wanted to see what the world was like outside of the University! We spent our entire lives doing the same thing, you weren't the least bit interested in finding out what else the world had to offer?"
"Not in the slightest." The former nun said.
"Then why did you come with me?" IWS questioned, her voice pointed and annoyed at the constantly flippant view that her friend held.
AUG pursed her lips, not giving the Captain an answer. They'd had this argument countless times, over and over again. Never once did she give her friend an answer, mostly because she wasn't sure what it was. It wasn't love, in truth AUG had no idea what that odd emotion even meant.
All she knew is that someone had to keep an eye on her airhead of a friend. And she certainly had nothing better to do. If she wasn't here, she certainly would have spent her days continuing her duties in the Cathedral. Helping the clergy with the parishioners, keeping the building clean despite all the tourist's desire to leave all their garbage on the grounds. The curse of a church also being an old monument.
Either way, it didn't matter.
She was here. There was nothing better for her to do.
(16:55)
The whole of Echelon Two stood outside of the repair bay, nervously waiting for the call to come inside.
This had been the day they'd been waiting for ever since M4's rescue. When they dragged themselves back to the outpost, each of them covered in bullet wounds or missing parts of their bodies. Almost out of ammunition, twitchy from the stress of extended combat. The fear of being sent offline had permeated them all.
But they were the fortunate ones. They got to come back home.
G36 sat on the bench quietly watching the clock in the corner of her eye tick away. On the outside, she projected her usual stoic calm. But beyond that she was a bundle of worry, doing everything she could to stop herself from bursting into the room.
For the better part of the day, she'd spent it dawdling in their dorm as she'd been ordered to. She was still furious with the Commander, overriding her autonomy like that, but she was more angry that she let it get this bad. The fact that even he felt it necessary to step in for her well-being was nothing short of mortifying.
Here she'd finally gained his trust, and then undermined it by being irresponsible.
That was when she heard someone approach, followed by the sound of a spray bottle going off. She turned to see StG44 going at the bench with sanitizer and a rag, wiping it until it sparkled before she sat herself down. G36 glowered at her, an expression that could only read 'are you serious' written plain as day.
"Vhat? It's not my fault this bench is filthy." StG insisted, pulling at the hem of her coat further down.
The two Germans sat there, waiting until Khan poked his head outside to beckon them in. PPSh-41 and PPK both filed inside, with StG standing up to follow. But G36 remained where she was, staring at the wall in front of her.
StG44 stopped, sensing that her leader hadn't budged an inch. She looked to the open door, then back to where G36 remained static. It took her no time at all to realize what was wrong, she'd been in this position plenty of times herself.
The seamstress stood in front of her Captain, squatting down so both were at head level with one another. Yet again, G36 put on her usual glare. But once her vision centered itself, it became focused on the girl in front of her, growing clearer and clearer until her expression softened.
Carefully StG44 reached out and took both of her hands, lacing their fingers together. It was time to repay her for the poker incident.
"Out of any person in this base, I am certain you will be the one she wants to see again the most." She promised, voice low and soft so they were the only souls who could hear one another. "And I know you want to be there as well."
G36's eyes turned down, fluster and shame dueling in her thoughts. But StG kept holding on, grasping the Captain's chin and tilting it back up to see her.
"I understand your pain. I've felt it many times now. But the pain is a sign that we care about those who follow us. And you care deeply, deeper than most." The seamstress promised, retracting her hand to grasp both of the maid's once again.
"Seeing you at work is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Be they doll, or human, their comfort and satisfaction is top priority." She observed, giving her leader a smile that was born of empathy. "Don't lose your kindness to this pit of dark thoughts"
G36 was dumbstruck, never having had a shower of compliments like this since she'd come here. She'd never asked for them, knowing that the others had their own ways of showing their appreciation.
Even through that, there was one comment that stuck out among the rest.
"You… think I'm beautiful?" She asked, making StG freeze up as she realized exactly what she had implied. Both Germans began to shoot up red with embarrassment, with StG taking her hands back as they tried to look at anything but one another.
A light cough made them both snap back to the present. Hsu was in the doorway, adjusting his glasses and giving his scar a scratch before nodding inside.
"They're waiting for you two." He reminded. G36 cleared her throat, bringing herself back to a more level emotional state before she slipped inside. StG lingered behind, sighing in defeat about how much of a fool she must have sounded like, before going to follow.
As she passed, Hsu clapped a hand on her shoulder before she rounded the corner. The Commander looked down at the woman, his glare coming off as eerily similar to when he had ripped her a new one over the knife fight.
"Erika, right?" He asked. StG44 nodded slowly, gulping in fear at what was about to come next.
Hsu looked over his shoulder again, spotting G36 as she stood at the feet of M1897's deactivated form.
"...Keep taking care of her." He said, before guiding the once again bewildered tactical doll into the room. He offered no further explanation, leaving her in a state of panic and confusion.
Khan was at the head of the slab where M1897's deactivated body lay, detaching the last few wires from her back port before going back to his computer. G36 kept her gaze fixed on her apprentice's lifeless body. She looked exactly the same as she always had, from her costume to her hairstyle. It was as if she had never left them..
"Right…" Khan began, taking a step back and going over to the computer. "One more moment, and…"
The engineering chief put in a few commands, then turned to watch. Half a minute passed, the world standing still… until the doughgirl's eyes slowly opened. She sat up, rubbing her head with a painful wince.
"Uuugh… I shouldn't've had that banana split." She mumbled out, looking around her to see where she was. Her eyes shot between each corner of the room, before landing on G36's terse posture.
"Miss Gretel? Shouldn't you be cleaning out the cafe?" She asked innocently, wincing again as another flash of pain came over her digimind.
"Easy, kiddo." Khan said from his station. "The memory transfer is still adapting to your new core."
"New… core?" She asked, before looking at her Captain again. "Wh-what's going on? I thought this was supposed to be a maintenance check."
With a deep breath, G36 came forward. She sat on the side of the slab, back facing towards the small girl. The others remained quiet, letting her ease her into this situation.
"Jesse, there was… an incident." She began. "A few weeks ago, we were deployed for a field mission. We got into a firefight, and…"
"Fire...what!?" M1897 said, shaking her head so fast it felt ready to fly straight off. "Wait, wait! I can't be deployed into combat! I just finished my mission certification! You said I still needed to go through a few more modules!"
G36 grimaced, but kept pressing on despite the pain of the situation. "I… I need you to check your neural cloud for today's date."
Fear seemed to take hold of the shotgunner, but she did as was requested. She pulled up a digital calendar, checking the date to show that it wasn't March anymore. The shock almost seized her mind up, in her view it seemed like she had been thrown three and a half months into the future.
"That's…" She tried to put her confusion into words, but found herself floundering.
"Your core was destroyed. We had to use the most recent backup on hand." G36 lamented, resisting the urge to get up and sprint out of the room.
M1897 looked at her hands and arms as she began to register that this was a brand new body. The same calluses and marks that were on her artificial skin before were all gone, replaced with a baby-like smoothness.
"Did… did I die?" M1897 asked, with G36 nodding along to give a solemn confirmation. The realization was washing over her slowly. "What about you? What about Paula?"
"I'm fine." PPK assured, smiling whimsically. "Ze whole event was quite… exhilarating."
PPK shuddered with pleasure as she recalled the conflict, much to everyone else in the room's chagrin. No one had walked out of the mission unscathed.
"We all made it home, thanks to you." G36 assured, before gently taking the girl's arm and helping her off the slab and onto her feet. "With that, there's some people who I know would like to meet you again."
M1897 went along with it, being guided over to stand in front of PPSh-41 and StG44. Both of them looked quite happy, with PPSh holding none other than the shotgunner's lost companion. She came closer, offering the white blob back over.
"Um… I'm Papasha. I'm really glad you're back, Ninety-Seven." The Russian gushed, watching the small android hop up and down as he was returned to his owner's custody. M1897 watched Casper's reaction, seeing how excited he was. It really had been some time since he'd seen her.
StG44 removed her hat, holding it at her navel. "Sturmgewehr. It's a pleasure, young one." She assured, though she recoiled back as the revived doll attempted to offer a handshake. PKK laughed at the doll's active displeasure, before the two broke into a vitriolic back and forth that PPSh quickly tried to calm down.
G36 took this chance to lead the recently revived away from the ensuing shouting match and over to where the Commander and Khan were standing.
"Jesse, this is Mister Hsu. He's our new Tactical Commander."
M1897 balked, never expecting to hear those words in her life. This base had basically operated without a Commander since it was built, due to the lack of paramilitary operations that were launched from it's staff. Yet here one was, a tall eastern man in a maroon Griffin coat and peaked cap.
She gave her superior the best curtsy she could, given how Casper was still in her grasp.
"I hope I live up to your standards, Commander." She said earnestly, not sure what to expect from this strange man. He watched her for a few moments, the other argument overpowering the room while they had their strange reunion in the corner.
Hsu lifted his hand up, then settled it on the short girl's head. He ruffled her hair, letting himself smile ever so slightly.
"I know you will, kiddo." He assured, his smile growing once the shotgunner giggled happily at the friendly gesture. Khan watched on, dumbstruck at such an open display of affection from the stone faced man.
G36 smiled as well, but was far less surprised. She'd grown far more aware of this side of the man he refused to openly show. But she then stepped forwards as M1897 let her pet rest on her head once again.
"Commander, may we be dismissed?" The adjutant requested. "The others and I have prepared a presentation in the cafe to try and get her up to speed."
Hsu nodded, his neutral expression coming back. G36 then turned to the still arguing group, ordering them to take their companion to the pre-disclosed location. After a knowing smirk from PPK and an annoyed nudge from StG, the four dolls all shuffled out of the repair bay. Leaving only Hsu, Khan and G36.
Once the door closed, and the coast was clear, G36 immediately ran into Hsu and enveloped in him a tight hug.
The Commander was surprised, but soon enough he could hear the telltale sound of crying as the maid buried her head in his chest. Now that it was finally over, that M1897 was back and she was out of sight, the dam finally broke. All the sadness and grief she'd kept back for the past weeks poured out like a raging river.
Gently, Hsu found himself returning the embrace. The same strange warmth radiated from the girl as had long before. Not quite the same as a human's, but it was certainly there.
And it was certainly real.
A/N: One more chapter before the break. Sorry if I disappointed a few folks about the lack of combat, but I didn't think it'd fit with this chapter. See you all again in a few weeks.
o/
