(19/7/2056 | 11:31)
This wasn't how Bren had expected her day to go.
She'd started it the same as any other free day. Power on, head to the cafe, get a Full Breakfast from Springfield, plan out the week's drills. Spend some time in the base's battle simulator, check up on Miss Helian's paperwork, make sure her new team wasn't doing anything they shouldn't.
Then she'd been roped into a lecture that the Commander was giving. Apparently, the man had began to give classes to some of the team leaders. First it was G36 alone, then IWS and M4A1 had been brought into the fold, and now she was sitting through this man's presentations on command and tactics.
The Brit would never say it out loud, but she did learn something.
But now she was standing in the Commander's office, with all of the other girls from the lecture, standing before Hsu as Thompson offered him a simple proposition.
"A night in Kiev?" Hsu reiterated. "You want to take all of our field leadership for weekend liberty?"
"Better than goin' alone like I usually do." Thompson answered, smiling at the man like a used car salesman. "B'sides, we've been workin' like nuts for the past few weeks. Little rest in a nice hotel surrounded by civilization would do these gals some good."
Hsu leaned back in his chair while G36 stood at his side. Neither of them seemed pliable to the idea, and one of them was supposed to be going along on this 'girl trip'. If anything, he seemed more upset that this had sprung up out of nowhere.
But Thompson kept up the charm offensive, putting her hands on the desk and leaning forwards. "Come on, Boss. We got today and tomorrow off anyway, not like we'll be missin' any contracts."
The older man still didn't seem convinced, redirecting his gaze to the other girls. The four of them shared a few looks, but Bren was the first to speak up.
"Wouldn't mind going to a real pub. Could go for a jag." The machine-gunner acquiesced, seeing a chance to take a long overdue break from her routine. She hadn't had a proper few days to herself in months.
"I've been meaning to visit the Vernadsky Library! They finally finished rebuilding it last year!" IWS also said, seemingly the only doll who would be genuinely excited about the prospect of reading more books.
"It would be nice to see the inside of a White Zone…" M4 admitted, rubbing her arm as she glanced between Thompson and Hsu. Her entire life had been spent either in 16Lab's headquarters or in the field. It was exceptionally rare to spend any time in a population center. And never off duty.
The Commander pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking over this request. He didn't need them here for the next few days, it was a short break period after taking contract after contract. The entirety of the base's human staff, himself included, were beyond exhausted. The final effort to try and end the month with a nice surplus of funds.
It wasn't like they'd be going far, either. Kiev was a two hour ride on a helicopter, and they had transports heading back and forth from the city leaving soon enough. If anything did happen, he could recall them rather quickly.
He looked to Thompson once again, nodding his head in approval.
"Be back by eighteen-hundred hours tomorrow." The Commander instructed. "Use your own money, don't make the company look bad, don't let yourselves get pushed around. If any of the locals try anything stupid, you're free to knock some sense into'em if warranted."
G36 looked at the man, displeasure warping her terse expression from the leniency he was permitting the group. As the others shuffled out, Thompson told them all to meet at the helicopter pad by noon.
Only the Commander and the maid remained behind, and the maid was not amused.
"She's acting strangely. I don't like it." She declared, moving to straighten up a stack of papers on the Commander's desk. "Well, I hope they enjoy themselves."
"You're going with them." Hsu informed her, bringing another level of discomfort upon the adjutant. He remained apathetic, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes.
"Then who will help you with all these combat reports?" She questioned, gesturing at the binders of data sitting on a shelf.
"I'll make Kalina do it." Hsu answered, before lifting a hand to pre-empt the woman. "-Plus I'll have PPK and Ninety-Seven handle cleaning services for a few days."
"And why must I accompany the group?"
"I thought you liked IWS and Thompson." Hsu said, an air of insufferable smugness surrounding him.
G36 glared back at the man, catching onto his undertone. "While I enjoy IWS' company and… tolerate Thompson's, they're still co-workers before friends. And need I remind you, one of them stabbed me."
"Which I punished her for, and we both know she's sorry about, even if she won't admit it." Hsu dismissed, playing along with this game. Every time he tried to have G36 step away from her duties, she came up with a cavalcade of excuses to remain static.
Sadly for her, the Commander was far more stubborn.
"You need to get off this base. A night on the town should help you destress." Hsu insisted, grabbing one of the files and flipping it open. "Plus I need someone to keep an eye on them."
"You really aren't going to take no for an answer, are you?" The maid grumbled.
"Gretel, you need to make some friends."
The girl scoffed, taken aback by the blatant hypocrisy. "Really? Coming from the most antisocial person in Griffin?"
"I like being alone. You don't." He finished, looking up from the file in his hands. "Tell me if I'm wrong."
Much as she wanted to, she couldn't. She did feel rather isolated, keeping an arms length between herself and her subordinates for the sake of professionalism. But that was what was expected of her, wasn't it? She had to be professional to be a respected leader. That meant not growing too close to her coworkers.
Though seeing as how she reacted to M1897's demise, she'd already failed. Or her increasingly confusing feelings towards a certain seamstress. Though that was a topic she wasn't ready to broach with anyone
Still, an idea came to her mind.
"...Let's make a trade." G36 spoke, plucking the file out of the man's grasp and setting it back into it's stack. "I'll go chaperone this little trip, but you need to do something for me."
"And that is?"
"Answer my question about your past. I still know very little of what you did before Griffin." She requested.
Hsu frowned, wondering why everyone on this base seemed so interested in his old life. The dolls, his department heads, even Helian seemed to pry whatever they could whenever they were able. It would probably be easier to tell people at this point. But that undercut the fact that he wanted to be left alone.
Still, he complied, if only to ensure that the doll wouldn't bristle under his directive any further. So he simply nodded his head.
"Weiss mentioned to me a few weeks ago that you and Miss Helian had a spat. Something about your being a 'reservist'?" His adjutant questioned.
"You want me to explain what that means?" He asked.
"I know what it means. What I don't know is what you did as a civilian."
Hsu tapped his fingers on his desk, wondering how much he should say. The more details he gave, the more questions that would come. And knowing how gossip worked, the entire base would know about his old career choices pretty quickly.
"I was a journalist with the Canadian Broadcasting Company." He revealed. "Wrote articles, eventually went on the Parliamentary track. Was on the national news once or twice."
"You're the last person I'd suspect of being a journalist." G36 spoke honestly. With how dry and standoffish the man was, the idea of him dealing with a job where he spoke to people regularly was comical and depressing.
"I haven't done it in years." Hsu replied, his frown growing as he saw G36 put on a smug smile. "What's so funny?"
"Just recalling when we first met." She reminisced. "And how a journalist is supposed to be investigative, yet you didn't even bother to investigate the company you came to work for."
The maid giggled as her superior wore a deadpanned glare, taking his silence as a personal victory. Without any further taunts, she bowed towards the man and took her leave, making a mental list of all the cleaning supplies she'd buy on this little trip she'd been roped into.
Hsu pulled out his radio, flipping the frequency to the cafe channel.
"Springfield, get me an Irish coffee. And use the Bushmills this time, not that Danish crap."
"Sir, it's not even noon-"
"Have it up here in twenty."
(14:07)
Kiev, the final city of Ukraine.
During the war, the rest of the nation had been torn asunder. Turkish invasions from the Black Sea, Italian bombers dropping death from the sky, Austro-Hungarian armored divisions attempting to roll over the eastern lands on their crusade into Russia proper.
But out of all the population centers, Kiev still stood. Anti-missile defenses protected it from threats above. Deep entrenchments circled the outside of the city, still maintained after the armistice was declared. Though it had been encircled, it had never been conquered. And through that luck, it was now the only safe area in the entirety of the nation.
The city was a White Zone, untouched by ELID and well guarded from the threat. It had skyscrapers and roadways, trains and busses. People walked through its streets, not fearing attack from bandits or rogue robots.
It was a truly modern city. Something that had become more and more rare in recent times.
As the five dolls walked out of the aeroport, Thompson pulled them to the side as soon as they cleared security. A secluded area where there were no eavesdroppers, within sight of the path leading to the city's metro system.
"Ground rules." The American explained, bringing a hand up and raising a finger.
"One, unless someone asks, we're not dolls. Even if they do ask, dodge the question if you can." She instructed. "Two, don't go anywhere alone. This is still a city, lotta dark alleyways and people who'd be happy to sell you for parts."
"We're not naive children." Bren replied with some resentment, to which Thompson pointed a finger at both IWS and M4.
"These two don't know how Eastern Europe operates. 'Sound of Music' over here probably ain't seen someone get mugged in her life." She insisted. Neither of the dolls in question said anything, their guide having them both dead to rights.
Bren grunted noncommittally, leaving room for Thompson to continue.
"Last big thing is don't use your codenames from Griffin. Callin' each other weapon names is gonna get attention we don't need." The gangster finished, scanning the group. "Anyone have anything to say?"
IWS tentatively held a hand up. "So… should we use our old names then? Are we even allowed to?"
"Technically we're allowed to use any designation we like when off-mission." G36 intoned, adjusting the knot on her necktie. "Though if we were going to attempt being inconspicuous, we likely should have brought other attire."
"It's a big city. Freakshows are a dime a dozen." Thompson dismissed, before giving M4 a side-eye. "...Well, she's gonna draw a few eyes with that get-up."
The quiet doll nodded, taking the coat from around her waist and wearing it after removing her skull neckerchief. She had already mounted more human looking limbs before leaving for this outing, her cybernetic arms and legs waiting back at base.
IWS, M4A1 and Bren then shuffled towards the metro entrance. The sniper was already clamoring about showing them both the national archives, while Thompson and G36 watched on.
"Are you going to tell me why you really organized this?" G36 questioned, deciding to cut to the chase.
Thompson scoffed, pulling out her music player as she pulled up a new album. The doll began to follow the group, G36 traipsing along at her side. "You think I've got an ulterior motive for everything."
"You do. There's no other reason you'd bring M-Four." G36 insisted.
"I brought her because Garand's been buggin' me." Thompson countered, the tone of classic jazz beginning to flow from her ears. "That girl tries too hard to get along with everyone. She's like a second Springfield."
"Well, they are cousins." G36 reminded, looking on ahead to see IWS struggle with a turnstyle as her coattails became caught in the mechanism. The former librarian looked like she was about to die from embarrassment as both Bren and M4A1 tried to untangle her.
Thompson and G36 continued onto the platform, standing away from the crowd of humans that waited closer to the rails. "Why don't you like her, anyway? She seems perfectly pleasant, though rather sheltered."
"She's supposed to be an Elite doll. Someone who acts like that being on my level's a bit insulin'." Thompson said, yet again dodging the truth. "Besides, I don't have to like everyone. Don't like your girlfriend, either."
"Sturmgewher is not my girlfriend." G36 protested, getting herself an elbow to the side from Thompson.
"What did I say about codenames?" Thompson chastised, before grinning at her warden. "And I think you're protestin' a bit too loud."
"Really? And what about you and S-." G36 responded, before she bit her tongue. "You know who I mean."
"We have fun. That's not datin', that's messin' around." Thompson dismissed, readily showing her lack of romantic interest in the Italian shotgunner. "You and the spaz, though. I've seen how you two act around each other. Everyone has, and we're all talkin' about it."
"It would be absolutely unprofessional for me to become intimate with a subordinate in my squad." G36 defended. "Especially while I am also the Kommandant's Adjutant."
"Anyone who knows you also knows you'd never abuse your post, so can it. You're such a girl scout I'm surprised you don't sell cookies."
"...Should I sell the cookies that I bake with Springfield?" The German asked, not understanding the comparison.
Thompson scoffed, turning the music on her headset up further. Yet again she questioned her own taste in friends.
(14:10)
While the leadership had their fun in the city, the rest of their teams spent their day within the outpost's walls.
Griffin staff, human or android, took the time to train, slack off or indulge in their pastimes. Official functions of the base were wound down, almost grinding to a halt as a fresh calm settled in. Something that hadn't taken hold since the recovery mission in early June. Only a month had past, yet it felt so much longer.
A good number of the dolls were present in the cafe. M1897 and S.A.T.8 were helping BAR choose a new motorcycle from a catalogue. AUG was 'supervising' K11 as she was trying to fix the room's flatscreen after movie night. Garand, Type 100, M14 and PPsH-41 were huddled around a monopoly board, easily being the biggest source of volume in the entire room. All the while Springfield went to and fro, supplying the groups with treats and beverages as they went about their business.
Including the final pair of Helian and Hsu, sitting at the counter.
The two human Commanders had been spending the past few hours drafting defense plans for what they were seeing as an inevitable attack. Locations for trenches and minefields, ideal placements of sentry guns, hardpoints for the human staff to hold down in a pinch. Plans for the best and worst case scenarios, critical holdouts, even a few evacuation points in case of a total collapse.
Even during their break, their work came with them. Datapads, charts and intelligence reports littered the countertop, surrounding their late lunch.
"We can get hescos shipped in from Moscow, right?" The Commander asked, looking over yet another shopping list of supplies.
"A few pallets worth. What we need, at least." Helian confirmed. "I'll need to requisition a power-loader as well, does anyone on the roster know how to operate them?"
"Papasha was a construction doll. She should be able to handle it." Hsu recalled, having read over most of the resumes of his combat teams. At least, the ones that were available.
Helian hummed in agreement, grabbing yet another datapad. "I would recommend relegating echelon two to base duties for the week, then. The logistics staff will need some autonomous doll support."
"They're the best group for it." He agreed, grabbing a bottle of lager as Springfield approached. "But it means we're probably not going to reach that profit goal for the month."
"You and the rest of the company. The sooner we pacify Sangvis, the sooner we all go back to making money." Helian assured, before flagging Springfield down. "Dear, cannae ask you something?"
"Certainly, madam." The doll responded.
"During the last operation, was there anything of note you saw when we evacuated the settlement close to the Sangvis frontline?" The sub-director inquired. "Did it feel like your team was being observed? Any hint of hostile presence?"
Springfield thought over the idea for a few moments, then shook her head. "Not that I noticed personally. Though we were more focused on coaxing everyone from their homes than perimeter duty."
"Maybe we've managed to stagger them, finally." Hsu pondered aloud.
"Considering we've been jabbing at their line for a week straight, they have to be planning something." Helian mulled, resting back in her chair as she messaged her forehead. "God's bones, I feel exhausted."
Springfield chuckled, picking up both of the humans' emptied plates. "You've been putting in a great deal of hours, Miss Helian. Even today, when we're all supposed to relax."
"No wonder she's got grey hair." Hsu joked.
"And you've got the crows feet of a man twice your age." His superior bit back with a smirk.
"Perhaps this a sign you both could use some reprieve?" Springfield advised. Helian and Hsu glanced at one another, then back at the motherly caretaker.
"...Truth be told, it's not a poor idea." Helian acquiesced. "Though there's not much to do out here, beyond patrol in full kit."
"May as well head to Kiev like some of the girls did."
"Yes, wandering a city by myself sounds so much more enthralling."
"Take Khan. Or Kalina, she'd jump at the chance."
Helian rolled her eyes, while Springfield's eyes bounced between both the Commander and the Sub-Director. The two had been spending more and more time together, something she hadn't expected. Especially considering the Commander's more lonesome tendencies, or Helian's infamous penchant for intimidating an entire room.
"Perhaps Commander Hsu could accompany you?" The baker offered. Hsu cocked a brow, looking over to Helian before shaking his head. Something that the Scot seemed to take humor in.
"Come now. Seeing the sights would likely do you some good." Springfield reminded. "A sedentary lifestyle is not a healthy one. Especially with your levels of alcohol consumption."
Hsu groaned as he was lectured by the mothering android, to which both women seemed to take a great deal of enjoyment from. "Why don't you go with her, then?"
Springfield then dug a hand into her apron, producing what looked to be a boarding pass. "I have plans tonight. My sister and I are meeting with one another in Sector Twenty."
Confusion reared its head in Hsu's mind yet again, but he made no effort to act on it. Unfortunately for him, Helian did.
"Perhaps you could explain to the Commander the terminology of doll families, dear." She requested. Springfield smiled, happy that a human was taking such an interest in her kind. Hsu bristled, but didn't object.
"Between dolls, we address one another as family based on our origins." She explained. "If designed by the same company, we address one another as cousins. If we're different versions of the same model, we consider each other sisters."
"Your sister is a Griffin doll too?" Hsu asked, deciding he may as well be involved in the conversation.
Again, the cafe operator nodded. "Her designation is Kar-Ninety-Eight. She is the German localization of our design."
"She's also one of the most famous dolls in the company." Helian pointed out. "One of the rare examples of an android being quite wealthy."
"How is that possible?" Hsu asked, the concept of a rich robot seeming utterly alien to him.
"Some nations in Europe fare better on doll laws than others. West Germany is an example of that." The Sub-Director informed him. "Dolls there can live and work independently if they so choose. Most end up as lower-middle class, though some can reach higher."
Springfield beamed with pride at the legacy of her relative. "Karoline was an actress doll. Then she gained a fanbase and got her own talk show. Now she's come to work for Griffin as a way to 'find herself'."
"Find herself by getting shot at." Hsu deadpanned, grabbing for his tumbler of whisky. "That is the stupidest thing I've heard in my life."
Springfield tutted. "When we die, Commander, we're merely rebuilt and revived. A job like this one is dangerous, but not not life-threatening."
Hsu scowled, mood souring rapidly. He downed the last of his drink and stood, muttering something about 'checking perimeter integrity' before marching out of the cafe. Both women watched him depart, Helian herself growing a bit sullen.
"So that's it, then." She muttered, grabbing her own glass of water. Springfield looked at the woman with befuddlement, not sure what she'd done to cause such a reaction. Seeing the doll's expression, the Sub-Director explained.
"Your Commander seems to have an aversion to two subjects; siblings and death." She observed, finishing off her own glass of water. "And based on how he's reacted in the past, I doubt the topics are unrelated."
Realizing what she was implying, Springfield's expression grew even more dour. She turned to try and call for the man, but he'd long since escaped the room.
"I should apologize." She inferred, rounding the counter to go find the man. However, Helian stood to her feet, blocking her path.
"For all of the Major's faults, he doesn't seem the kind to hold a grudge." She assured, adjusting her cuffs nonchalantly. "Just try not to brag about your immortality again."
"I wasn't bragging, truly! I… I didn't know." Springfield defended, not enjoying the accusation. All she had done was state a simple fact, not knowing the context of the conversation until it was far too late. She wondered why Helian hadn't tried to warn her ahead of time.
The Sub-Director remained mum on that matter, sitting back on her stool and asking for another serving of quiche.
(15:32)
After checking into the hotel, the group had split into two. IWS had taken Bren and G36 off to the library that she'd been so excited about, going on and on about the size of it's halls and the records that lay within. The Austrian's anticipation had been infectious, raising the spirits of the two dolls who'd gone to accompany her despite their lack of enthusiasm.
That did, however, leave M4 in the care of Thompson. And Thompson was very much displeased with that outcome.
So without even asking her for input, the gangster had taken her from place to place. Short stops, places where Thompson seemed to know whomever was there. She'd laugh, and joke, and shoo M4 off into a corner so she could do as she pleased while the quiet girl waited in the wings. Even if her company didn't want her there, she was at least enjoying this experience. Seeing the tall skyscrapers and safe streets of a white zone, areas more densely populated with human life than she'd ever seen before.
But then Thompson had taken them to this car lot, and now M4A1 watched the lanes of sports cars with stars in her eyes.
The exotic vehicles had instantly drawn her in far more than any magazine photo she'd seen in the past. The designs, the colors, the presence all seemed so elegant. From an engineering standpoint, she was impressed. From a personal standpoint… she'd never felt so intrigued before.
Suddenly, this trip had become completely worth it.
As Thompson finished chatting with one of the salesmen, she came over to see her tag-along practically drooling over the hood of a shining silver grand tourer. Amused, she came to stand at the distracted girl's side, sizing up the vehicle herself.
"You don't even know what this is, do you?" Thompson mocked.
"Aston Martin DZA Superleggera." M4 quickly reported, running her hand down from the base of the windshield to the grill. "Released in the mid two-thousands, one of the last gasoline sports cars ever made."
Thompson scoffed, but nodded. "Never took you for a gearhead, Princess."
M4 blushed, retracting her hand from the vehicle. "Gara-, er, Genevive showed me a few pictures. She even told me about this auto-park, I… didn't think we'd come here."
"Genny tags along sometimes, when I'm bored." Thompson admitted. "She was a mechanic back Stateside, worked on lots of cars. From beauties like this to absolute clunkers."
M4 nodded in understanding, returning her focus to the vehicle. She leaned up to the window, looking inside to gaze on the fully loaded interior. It was absolutely spotless, as if it had rolled off of the factory floor just yesterday. Uncreased leather seats, jet-black carpeting. The epitome of luxury.
An idea popped into Thompson's head, and she slinked back over to her friend. M4 raised her head, watching as the two went back and forth in Ukrainian before Thompson produced a wad of bills. Enough that made the man shut up, produce a remote from his pocket, and hand them over.
M4 blinked a few times, realizing what had just happened as her guide returned. She spun the keyring on her finger, flashing a satisfied grin.
"D-did you just buy the car?" M4 asked in shock, which seemed to make Thompson laugh aloud.
"Hell no, you know how much this thing costs? I rented it." Thompson corrected. "I've got a ton of cash to burn anyway, may as well have some fun."
"But that had to've been at least four-hundred Euros!" M4 calculated.
"Four-hundred and seventy Euros, and I get to drive a sweet ride in a place that ain't bum-fuck nowhere." Thompson corrected yet again, catching the remote in her hand and tossing them over to her designated chauffeur. "It's an automatic. Don't ram us into a light pole."
M4 snatched up the device, looking at it like it was made of solid gold as Thompson sat down in the passenger seat. Collecting herself, the younger doll joined the gangster and took a seat. She ran her hands across the steering wheel, smiling happily before looking at her benefactor.
"I don't understand. Why aren't you driving?" She asked.
"Because I wanna be lazy for a bit." Thompson deflected, before flashing her grin at the 16Lab doll. "And you've kept quiet while we went around. Think of this as a 'thank you'. But so help me God, if you scratch up this beauty, I'm tossing you out."
M4 nodded, accepting the challenge as she pressed the button down and brought the engine roaring to life. The humans around the car lot all stopped in their activities, looking to watch as the vehicle prepared to accelerate. Whoever stood in front of it quickly scrambled out of the way, giving M4 ample room to pull out.
Thompson directed them closer to the city outskirts, where traffic began to die down and roads became more and more open. Eventually they rolled out onto one of the elevated freeways.
"So, how do you like the Kiev White Zone?" Thompson questioned.
"It's… amazing. Everything seems so clean. Everyone seems healthy, happy, relaxed…" M4 reflected as they pulled into the express lane. "It's as if they're unaware of the attacks."
Thompson chuckled at the girl's naivety. "Sangvis can't touch this city, kiddo. There's a garrison of Soviet Marines here, they'd crush'em."
"But what about the people living in the Primary Green Zone? Around Sector Nine?"
"They're outside the wall, so most folks here couldn't give a shit." The gangster explained. "The people who live here aren't settlers, they're city slickers. Bureaucrats, politicians, merchants, factory workers, engineers. Nine-to-five job types."
M4 absorbed the knowledge, getting a basic understanding of the situation. Even if Sangvis was encroaching on the outskirts of civilization, it put people at risk. And if they were able to push the rogue androids back, maybe more places like Kiev could be built. More cities were people wouldn't have to be afraid of bandits or murderous robots.
Thompson watched her expression carefully, before giving the girl a nudge.
"Hey, word to the wise? This place has an ugly side too." She readily told the girl. "Every pretty place is just covering it's nasty shit with makeup."
The special operations doll nodded her head, taking the information to heart. But still, questions began to arise from Thompson's words.
How did she know anything about this city's 'ugly side'? In fact, how did she know so many people here? Even the car she was driving now was the property of a supposed acquaintance. Sure, Thompson had mentioned that she came to the city semi-regularly. But that didn't explain how she seemed to have an ear to the ground.
So many questions, none of which she had the answer to. Or that she'd likely get from the woman in question.
(17:04)
Back in Sector Nine, the day had continued as it had began; utterly uneventful.
Though the afternoon sun remained dominant, it was well into its descent. Activity on the airstrip was dying down, the pace of helicopters coming and going beginning to trickle away. Logistics personnel were in the warehouse, taking inventory of all the goods that were shipped or to be shipped. A few engineering teams were scattered about the outskirts, working on the base's power grid. The temporary power outage had forced many people to take a break from their break day.
Or in some of the dolls' case, improvise their entertainment.
Maple Moon, TAC-50's personal scout fairy, zipped around the fence-line with a trail of glass bottles tied to his underbelly. Each a different size, some not even empty yet, dangling in a daisy chain. Despite it's simpler AI, the fairy wasn't very keen on this game he'd been roped into. But he'd been promised a new battery when this was all said and done, so it was enough for him to tough it out.
Or so he thought, before a round zipped below him. Far, far too close for comfort.
As the drone began to fly in a more erratic manner, dodging for dear life, a curse could be heard coming from a nearby hill about three-hundred meters off. Three rifle dolls were there, along with the Commander. M1 Garand stood at the forefront, being the one who'd released an angry shout when she missed a bottle.
M14 cheered at her opponent's slip up, moving up to the shooting position while flashing Garand and 'L' on her forehead. The blonde stuck her tongue out, but said nothing, watching her teammate prepare to take her own shot in this spontaneous shooting contest between the three.
The Commander and TAC-50 hung back, watching the two go back and forth.
"I wish NTW joined in. She never likes hanging out with people." TAC-50 lamented, sitting cross-legged as M14 took up a crouched position. "Do you think she doesn't like me?"
"No idea." Hsu answered honestly. The man did not know, nor did he care.
"Maybe I should take her out hunting. I heard that Springfield poached a turkey a few weeks back! Who knew they had turkey here?" She continued to rattle on, trying to elicit some response from him.
She got nothing worthwhile, Hsu simply grunting in response.
TAC-50 pouted, wondering what she had to do to get anything out of her Commander. She'd invited him out here to try and get to know him. But as Garand had warned her, he wasn't interested. Heck, she was beginning to get surprised that he'd even come out at all.
Still, she wanted to try and bond with him. Hsu was the first Canadian she'd seen since leaving home. No other dolls, let alone any other Commanders, hailed from the Great White North. Most were Soviet, or European, with a minority of Americans and North Africans peppered in.
It was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and he was ruining it by not caring at all! The absolute nerve!
Annoyed, the sniper dug through her pouch and pulled out a dessert bar from her pack. She gave the confection a bite, humming with delight as the taste rushed through her. Somehow, Springfield had managed to make maple custard. And even if they weren't as good as the ones back home, they still tasted fantastic.
That was when Hsu's eyes shifted, seeing what she had in her hand.
"...Are those Nanaimo bars?" He asked.
TAC-50 nodded, wiping a few crumbs from her mouth before responding. "Yup! Fresh from this morning, too! Want one?"
The Commander hadn't expected the girl to offer them so readily, but he wasn't going to deny a gift. He took the offered treat, biting into it and letting the flavor settle. TAC-50 watched with far too much anticipation, not even reaching to M14's cheer as she hit a bottle.
Hsu swallowed, before looking at the confection. "Good. But whoever made these skimped on the coconut."
"That's what I told her! But Springfield kept saying that 'you shouldn't mix coconut with walnuts'." TAC complained.
"She's a Yankee, just be glad she didn't go overboard with the chocolate." Hsu joked, getting TAC to laugh. "...Used to go to Nanaimo a lot as a kid. This takes me back."
TAC-50 blinked, registering what the man had said before jumping up to her feet and rushing next to him. Hsu flinched, taken aback by the android's inhuman speed as she pressed next to him.
"You're from Bee Cee?!" She shouted, the noise causing Garand to jump and miss her shot entirely. Another round screeched past Maple Moon, the drone now relaying clear distress to his partner while Garand turned around to glare at her distractor.
TAC-50 paid no mind, eagerly hanging on Hsu's next word.
The Commander chortled, the sniper's positivity spreading to him via osmosis. "Victoria. Grew up near the Naval Yard."
"I'm from Kamloops! I worked at the lumber yard by Sun Peaks!" TAC-50 gushed, growing more and more excited despite the earlier glares. "Omigod, omigod, omigod! This is so cool! I can't believe we were basically neighbors!"
"Lotta water between my hometown and yours, wouldn't call us that." Hsu reminded.
TAC-50 rolled her eyes at the Commander's hair splitting. "Oh come on, you're telling me you never came off the Island?"
Hsu shrugged. "A few times. I moved out to Ontario for University, though."
TAC nodded, before coming to a realization. She looked at the man, then back out over the fence. Out to the blasted landscape of Sector Nine that reminded her far too much of her last memories of home.
"So… you weren't there when…?" She asked, broaching the question carefully. Hsu sighed, realizing what she meant. He shook his head.
"No. I was still deployed." The Commander confirmed.
"Oh." TAC-50 said, awkwardness beginning to show before she quickly shoved it away. "They evacuated everyone before the bombs came down, at least. I was on one of the trains!"
"Yeah. I know. My parents made it out too." Hsu assured.
Now TAC-50 sighed, relieved that she hadn't triggered some sort of traumatic moment for the older man. The way he looked and acted seemed so dour and serious, she half expected him to be on the edge of having an episode. Heck, the scar on his face was so deep and gnarly it looked terrifying.
But in truth he seemed… normal. Totally, completely normal.
"...Do you ever think we'll get to go back?" She asked, sitting back down on the hill's grassy crest.
Again, Hsu shook his head. "Doubt it. Soviets dropped so much Collapse toxin all over the coast that the whole province is a Black Zone now."
"But they're already starting to purify Saskatchewan!" TAC said, defiant with hope. But the Commander seemed to lack any of her optimism.
"It's slow going. We don't know when they'll get to British Columbia. Or if." He said soberly. As if he was stating the color of the sky or the time of day.
TAC's eyes grew downcast, looking at the green that she sat on. The sniper ran her fingers through blades, thinking how the forests she used to work were all gone now. Blasted into nothing, maybe even populated by ELIDs.
"Do you miss home, Mister Hsu?" She asked. That question finally got the man to show some emotion. He smiled out to the horizon, an inch of sadness peaking out under the stoic façade.
"All the time, Tac. All the time." He promised, before offering what was left of the Nanaimo bar back to the sniper. She pushed his hand back.
"Keep it. I've got more." She insisted, smiling again as her positivity returned. "You can call me Taylor, by the way. People only call me Tac on missions."
"Alright." He said, before sitting down next to her himself. The Commander stretched his legs out, grass staining his black slacks as Maple Moon began to float back to their hill. He lifted the dessert bar up, giving TAC-50 a nudge with his arm and the smallest of grins.
"To making it back home one day." He toasted.
TAC matched his grin and doubled down, showing off her teeth as she lifted a second treat into the air. "And walking through Glacier National again! With all our new friends, too!"
Hsu chuckled, taking another bite as Garand and M14 began to bicker about the score. He'd completely forgotten about them, or the contest. But now he wondered what it would be like, if all of these dolls were able to see where he came from.
The idea made him happy. Happy enough that it stuck longer than most.
A/N: This chapter was so big, I had to split it in two. Expect part two in the next few weeks
Also, for the record; Hsu's not getting a harem. Sorry guys.
o/
