(02/8/2056 | 14:00)
M4A1 crept along the forest floor, paranoia stifling her every move.
The target that she had been tracking was ahead, after searching up and down the area. Each corner of the overgrowth had been like a maze, keeping her and them hidden despite all her skills. The sounds of the wildlife were like alarm bells ringing in her ears. The crunch of each leaf and the snapping of twigs brought her to second guess each move she had made up until this point.
Yet, despite her clouded judgment, her goal was close. Closer than she realized.
A harsh snap rang above her head, gunshot causing her to spring up and sprint to cover. Three more rounds slapped against the ground, urging her to run faster before she dove behind the trunk of a tree.
Carefully, she looked to see from where she had been fired upon. But she saw nothing, not even the glint of a scope.
Still, her position was compromised. She broke from cover again, sprinting deeper into the brush to well and truly break off contact. Mentally she cursed herself as she dodged and weaved between the flora, knowing that this meant she would likely have to restart from zero.
Or perhaps not.
She felt something strange wrap around her leg, and then before she knew it, a force pulled her up. The world flipped upside down, her grip tightening around her rifle before the motion stopped. M4 craned her head upwards, trying to see what in blazes was going on…
…Only to see rope knotted around her foot, hanging her to something above. Two rounds then slapped her in the back, the same direction she'd been running from.
With that killing blow, the world fell away. The forest pixelated, then dissolved as the area flashed with a bright light. What remained after was a room covered in gray paneling, holoprojectors poking from the roof. Elevated platforms of gray bricks and cubes dotted the area, having once been disguised as trees or knolls.
On top of one of those bricks, AR-15 rested on a knee. She rolled her eyes, taking in how ridiculous her younger sister looked as she dangled from the rope. Meanwhile, M4 struggled spinning as she tried and failed to free herself.
"Not bad, girls. Match lasted longer than last time, at least." M16's voice rang out over the room's speakers, the entrance opening up a minute later to reveal both her and SOPMOD entering the augmented reality training arena.
AR-15 hopped down as SOPMOD sprinted towards her, singing her praises as the team's designated marksman dodged one of her signature tackle-hugs. M16 came over, glancing at M4 as she continued to struggle against the rope. The eldest sibling drew her bayonet from her hip, making ready to lop her down.
"Don't." AR-15 instructed as SOPMOD scraped herself off of the side of the platform she'd careened into. "She has to learn how to deal with things herself."
"Yeah, like a certain lone wolf?" M16 snarked.
AR-15 scoffed, cradling her precious firearm against her chest. "You know I'm right."
"You always say that." M16 said, before she looked up to see M4 still trying to untie herself despite their back and forth. For a brief moment, she looked down at her family below, before her eyes steeled themselves once more and she continued to try and wrangle herself out of the trap.
Sensing their leader's determination, M16 sheathed the blade. She moved over to SOPMOD, helping to straighten the pouting girl's hair after her unceremonious impact.
"Either way, you both did well. Good usage of camouflage, and you were evading one another for almost an hour." She assessed, giving one of SOPMOD's antennas a yank to bend it back in place.
"She still lost again." AR-15 pointed out with a frown, causing SOPMOD to jab her Sangvis salvaged finger at her sibling.
"That's not fair, you cheated! We aren't supposed to use traps!" The grenadier chastised, coming to their leader's defense. And yet, M16 shook her head in disagreement.
"The enemy won't care about cheating, Sop." M16 informed, before turning her attention back to AR-15. "But next time, stick to the guidelines."
AR-15 grumbled at the direction, but nodded in compliance. Right as M4 finally freed herself from the rope that bound her leg. Sadly for her, gravity was still a thing that existed. Which meant she fell down onto the cold gray ground with an unceremonious 'THUMP'.
Yet again, AR-15 rolled her eyes while SOPMOD tried and failed to contain her laughter at the scene. M16 chuckled as well, before going over to offer a hand to the youngest of them all. M4 rubbed her head, looking up to her sister's hand before taking it and being hoisted up onto her feet.
Then, the door to the AR arena opened once more. All four of the dolls turned to see IWS walk inside, two datapads close to her chest while she blushed at all the eyes focusing on her as she came over.
"Um… are your drills finished?" IWS asked, having waited in the wings for the time that M4 had given her to arrive. M16 tilted her head, before bringing up her HUD's digital clock.
"Crap, it's Two already." The doll observed, letting her grip go on M4. She turned back to her family, clapping her hands together and raising her voice.
"Right then! We've got our job details for the day, let's get to it!" She announced, her voice booming through the room. SOPMOD cheered in glee, kicking forwards into a sprint out the door to her perimeter patrol. M4A1 moved to IWS, the two of them walking off together for their shared assignment.
AR-15 glared at IWS' back, something that the other remaining AR team member couldn't help but notice.
"How is it you're so lax all the time?" AR-15 said, piping up only once the others were well and truly out of earshot.
"Because. I don't spend ten minutes every morning in front of the mirror practicing 'dark and brooding' poses." M16 answered, taking great enjoyment as her sibling began to fume with enmity. "Oh relax. I'm only kidding. Probably."
"God, you're an asshole." AR-15 said, stepping off to prepare for her own duties. M16 trotted along, unscrewing her flask open. "This place is too soft. I hate these rearline outposts. None of them act like actual Tactical Dolls."
"And M-Four does? How about Sop?" The elder asked.
"They need to straighten up too." AR-15 responded, opting to double down. "Honestly, Griffin's in a sorry state. No one acts like a soldier."
"Cute, seeing as I'm the only one in the family who's old enough to remember World War Three. Let alone shoot people in it." M16 reminded, giving AR-15 a lopsided grin as the sharpshooter grimaced.
Like it or not, M16 was right. She wasn't that much more of a soldier than they were, embodied by her civilian rifle. It had been modified to a military standard, but wasn't really there. Much like the dolls at this base.
But in her heart, none of that really mattered to AR-15. Real soldier or not, she still had standards. All professionals had standards.
And yet… she was surrounded by the contrary.
(14:24)
As they grew closer to the Commander's office, M4A1 grew more and more panicked at the sheer size of the list that appeared on her datapad.
After a few days' deliberation, both she and IWS had been chosen as the Commander's temporary adjutants. The first few days after the battle, Hsu had opted to handle all of the duties on his lonesome. Truth be told, he had returned to what Garand had described to her as 'old habits'. Rarely leaving the Command wing of the outpost, speaking through Zener messages or radio transmissions.
It wasn't until last night that both of the dolls had actually seen their Commander in days
Still, the tasks that were before her seemed almost unending. Jobs stretched across each corner of the base, though they were all either clerical or supervision in nature. Receiving reports from the different divisions, checking in on the progress of the base's reconstruction, analyzing the local intelligence reports, so on and so forth.
"Thirty-Six did all of this every day?" M4 asked in disbelief, swiping over to the next page.
"And the cleaning. And caretaking duties." IWS added on with the same amount of shock and horror that her peer held. She promised that once the maid had been given a new body, she would never take her for granted again.
Luckily for them, cleaning was at least being handled by M1897 and StG44. Which meant they could focus on what was before them without too much stress.
As both dolls reached the door to the Commander's office, IWS pulled out her keycard and swiped it against the door.
"Grüss Gott, Kommandant!" The sniper greeted happily, before noticing that the office was still empty. The Commander's desk was unmanned and barren, with a few pens and a closed laptop sitting unused.
M4 poked her head around the corner of the door, before following the Austrian inside. "Did he change our meeting time?"
IWS shook her head, baffled as she went over to the desk and checked for any sign of use. Her neural cloud's tracking software couldn't notice any recent footprints pressed into the carpet. There weren't any cup stains on the desk's table top either.
Worry soon came over the doll, fearing that she'd already messed something up on her first day. She began to whimper and dash back and forth across the room in a panic, trying to see if there was some sort of clue as to where the man had disappeared to.
M4A1 opted to watch her friend lose her cool, then activating her radio and adjusting the frequency to the Logistics channel.
"Miss Kalina? Do you read me?" She called as IWS remained in her distressed state.
"Loud and clear. What's up?" Kalina answered quickly, a soft yawn coming from her end.
"W-well, you see…" M4 began, extending a hand to grab IWS' arm and ceasing her scrambling. "-The Commander isn't in his office. Do you know if he wanted us to meet him somewhere else?"
"...Crud, I knew I forgot something." Kalina said, which only pulled both the dolls' attention towards her voice.
"The Commander was helping me finish making the combat reports." She continued to explain, another yawn escaping her. "We were up late. Really, really late. He's probably still sleeping."
M4 and IWS shared a look, not expecting such a benign answer. The man slept past his alarm, it was something that humans often did. But they'd expected a military official, retired or not, to be more punctual. Then again, both had been on base long enough to have heard the many stories of what occurred whenever anyone other than G36 tried to rouse the man. Like waking a tiger in its den, except the tiger smelled like Crown Royal and malcontent.
Which then brought the new problem to the fore. G36 wasn't here. And there was no one available to assist the two; every doll had already been given a work detail.
Which meant that they were the ones who had to wake the Commander.
Horror. Horror and fear engulfed them both.
"Um, guys? Guuuuuuys?" Kalina continued to ask, before M4 ended the call. She then thought for a few moments, before a name popped into her head. Someone who maybe, maybe could give them some advice. So, feeling she had nothing to lose, she dialed the number.
How badly could it possibly go?
(15:10)
"Of all the reasons I've had to reboot a crash..." Khan lectured, pulling the last of the cords out from IWS' back charging port.
In the aftermath of their 'brilliant' plan to wake up their Commander, both dolls found themselves in the repair bay. M4 had to drag an unconscious IWS across the base, presenting her to the Chief Engineer after she'd fainted from fear. While he'd undertaken the process of reviving her, she'd told him about the series of events that had led to the Austrian appearing in such a state.
As IWS woke up, Khan sat down in a dilapidated office chair and looked back at M4 in sheer disbelief.
"Let me go over this series of unfortunate events one last time…" He says, rubbing his eyes. "You both reported to Old Man Hsu's office. The office was empty, so you called Kalina and she told you he was likely still resting."
M4A1 nodded along, while IWS still attempted to gather her bearings. The white haired sniper looked around the room, head swiveling back and forth. Off on another bed, Thompson gave the girl a wave. Her lower half was stripped bare, paneling removed to reveal her damaged internal components.
"Receiving this news, both of you decide to take matters into your own hands." Khan continued, pulling IWS' attention over to him. "Wanting advice in your endeavor, you called M-Fourteen. Who then recommended that you wake him up with something loud."
Again, M4 nodded. Khan grimaced, having hoped that he'd misheard something in her report. But still, he pressed on with his recap.
"So the both of you went to his quarters, and with your phone, began to play…?" He asked. M4 turned to IWS, not knowing the name of the song.
The sniper grew sheepish, pressing the tips of her index fingers together as she looked away from the man. "...The last leg of the Eighteen-Twelve Overture."
"Please, please tell me it wasn't the version with the cannons." The engineer pleaded,
IWS' failure to respond was all the response he needed. He facepalmed, now fully understanding why Hsu had gone absolutely ballistic. M4 remained quiet, shrinking in place as she saw Khan's reaction.
Meanwhile, IWS grew more embarrassed, impulsively jumping to defend her actions.
"It was the only loud song I had on my playlist!" She rationalized, though it had little effect on her audience. "How was I supposed to know he slept with a handgun! Who sleeps with a handgun?!"
Both Khan and M4A1 raised a hand. Thompson did as well, viscerally enjoying the shattering of IWS' innocence.
Defeated, IWS slumped back against her bed as she wallowed fully in her embarrassment. Khan stood up, going over to the central table.
"If I were you two, I'd be grateful he had the trigger discipline to not shoot first and ask questions later." He tactfully advised, taking hold of M4's tablet from off the table and offering it over to it's rightful owner. "You have a new message on there."
The doll took the device, seeing that Hsu was ordering them to get to work as soon as IWS was able. She then passed the datapad to her partner, who had left hers behind at the Commander's dorm when she'd crashed.
Remembering that they still had work to do, IWS hopped up. "Right! Doesn't matter if we started on the wrong foot, we have our mission! We can't let the Commander down!"
"Only up from here, I suppose…" Khan muttered to himself, before nodding his head towards his other 'patient.' Both temporary adjutants swiveled around, before recalling that one of their jobs was collecting reports from all of the echelon Captains.
As such, IWS tore across the room and popped up before the injured leader. M4 followed suit, though choosing to walk at a normal pace as she went to join her friend.
"Duchess." Thompson said, addressing IWS by her nickname. She produced a pack of cigarettes, pulling one free. "You or Princess got a light?"
"No smoking, Annie!" Khan called from the other side of the room, having returned to the repair console.
"Bite me, Assad." She replied, stuffing the cigarette back in its box as M4 arrived. "OK, seriously. Waddya two want?"
M4 stayed quiet, letting IWS take the lead with this one.
"The Commander wants us to collect reports on every echelon's status." IWS asked, producing a journal and pen. "Would you be so kind as to tell us how Echelon One is doing?"
Thompson scoffed, gesturing to her body as it was still under repair. The gangster was missing a lot of her signature look. Her hat, her sunglasses. Even her tie and headphones. All she had was the rest of her top. "Assad said he doesn't have the parts to fix me. So I've been stuck here since we got back. I dunno how Barbs and Fourteen are doing."
"B-but, that means we'll have to find them!" IWS said, growing upset once again. "Surely you must be able to tell us something!"
"Hey, I run my team pretty laid back." Thompson said, not caring for IWS' disapproval. "Long as they show up for combat sims and missions, I don't ask questions. Capisce?"
IWS whined for a few more moments, but wrote down what she had been told. M4, meanwhile, checked the job listings to see where each of the dolls were. There were tasks spread out all over the base, some even stretching out along the edge of the patrol perimeter. Collecting all the information that the Commander asked for would take hours. Likely all day.
This really was turning out to be harder than it looked.
(15:33)
"Come on, come on!" Bren demanded.
As the two adjutants stepped inside the base's gym, they found what was left of echelon four using the facilities. Well, two of them. L85A1 and NTW-20 sat nearby, the former happily knitting a green and gray scarf with a pair of needles. The latter had her massive rifle in hand, totally disassembled and spread out on a tarp before her.
Bren and TAC-50, meanwhile, were in a boxing ring. TAC-50 continuously trying to land blows on a dodging and weaving Bren. Both Commonwealth dolls were out of their usual attire, clad in what looked to be gray sweatshirts and pants with Griffin logos emblazoned on them. Red boxing mitts were the most colorful things present, not counting TAC's light green hair.
"Focus, Taylor! If you keep up this sorry show, I'll start hitting back!" Bren demanded, dodging yet another strike as TAC-50 grew visibly more nervous. As far as hand to hand was concerned, the former forester was woefully out of her depth trying to combat a bar brawler like her Captain.
L85 looked up from her work, seeing the two new arrivals and smiling. She then placed her focus on the ring, raising her voice. "Girls, we have visitors!"
TAC-50 stopped, turning her head to see IWS wave and M4 quietly bow. Bren, however, took advantage of the opening. She whistled at her opponent, getting the Canadian doll to turn to face her once again before sending a blistering left hook right into TAC's nose. The sniper fell down onto the mat, pawing at her face and curling up. L85, M4 and IWS each winced at the blow.
Bren rolled her eyes, going over and helping the doll back up. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
"Th-that was a cheap-shot!" TAC-50 complained, being lifted straight into Bren's face.
"You accusing me of something?" Bren interrogated, intimidating the girl into going silent.
"Come now, Beatrice! Don't be a chavette!" L85 scolded. The taunt was enough to get Bren to lay off, releasing her grip and exiting the ring. She spotted the two newcomers, pulling the velcro straps on her gloves as she came closer.
"M-Four. Weiss." She addressed them both, pulling her hands free and slinging the mitts over her shoulder. "What brings you two here?"
"We're collecting reports for the Commander. He wants to know how each of the echelons are holding up." IWS informed, with M4 bringing up her pad and stylus to act as scribe for whatever Bren had to say.
The Brit seemed unenthused, a hand going to her hip. "He knows my team's leavin' with Miss Helian tomorrow, don't he?"
IWS and M4 shared a glance, before IWS gave the machine-gunner a sheepish smile. "The Commander didn't inform us of any exceptions."
"God's bones…" Bren muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose as she thought of what to say. "Well, my team's managing. Tac and Eighty-Five're still dour after losing Sar."
M4 sensed the solemn air, writing the information down while looking to see the sniper in question rest against the side of the ring. TAC-50's expression was less chipper than usual. SAR-21 had been her spotter, the two seemed to have been decent friends. But now the girl from Singapore was gone, her core melted away so not even her memories could be retrieved. She wouldn't be brought back until they all returned to Saint Petrograd.
"And how is Eighty-Five recovering from her wounds?" IWS inquired.
"Let's ask'er." Bren said, turning about to face her Lieutenant as she continued her needlework. "Oi, Laura! How's the back?"
The doll looked up, her pink sunhat flopping from the sudden motion. "Hm? Oh, perfectly fine dear! Khan's boys and girls had me fixed up as soon as we returned. Haven't had an issue since!"
IWS smiled, leaning to her right to check what M4 had written down. She muttered something about a misspelled word, tapping the screen before speaking to Bren again.
"Is there anything your team needs before you leave?"
"Some more boxes to put our shite in." Bren said with a huff. "And tell Hsu he needs to get a proper dormitory for this place. Felt like I was back in the Lancers, sleeping in a damned derelict aircraft hangar again."
"We've been… trying to allocate funds for the project." IWS admitted, knowing that this topic was likely to come up. "But due to recent events, almost all of the surplus was spent on defenses and equipment."
Bren rolled her eyes, waving her hand dismissively at the words. "It isn't my problem anymore. I'm saying this for your sake more than mine."
M4 paused in her notetaking, seeing that TAC-50 had stood up and was now making her way over to them. "I could ask Sixteen Lab to send us some money. Miss Persica wasn't happy when I showed her the state of the base."
"The good Professor isn't happy unless she's drowning in coffee or poking at some poor AI's neural cloud." Bren jabbed with no trace of empathy. M4 was visibly disheartened at the disparaging of her creator, but the Brit didn't seem to care. Both Bren and her superior had no love for the 'genius' that was Persica.
Seeing that a confrontation was brewing, IWS quickly jumped back into the conversation. "W-we'll be sure to pass your suggestions onto the Commander, Bren! Thank you very much."
"Right…" Bren said, giving M4 one last side-eye before continuing on. "Does he really have you running all over the base, asking this nonsense of every team?"
"It's no trouble, really!" IWS stammered as TAC went to her Captain's side. The Austrian didn't want to make it appear as if she was speaking ill of the base's ranking officer. "Besides, the Commander just wants to know how operations are going. And it means we get to spend time with everyone!"
Bren chuckled, amused and bemused at her peer's gusto. "You've got the motivation of a boot, Weiss. And twice the optimism."
"Um… thank you?" She asked, not knowing what that meant.
"I could help you guys out." TAC piped up, undoing the bun that her hair had been in and letting the green strands tumble all over her shoulders. "It sounds like a lot of work, and we just finished our drills for the day."
Both the adjutants blinked in unison, before looking to Bren for confirmation that the doll could in fact come along and assist. Bren gazed over to her team member, mulling the idea over in her head before giving a shrug.
"Sure. But be back at barracks by nineteen-hundred, we need to finish packing." Bren permitted.
"Sweet! I'll go change!" TAC announced, before trotting off to the lockers. Bren shook her head, clearly thinking something over before she looked back to IWS and M4.
"Anything else you need to know?" She asked.
The two shook their heads, which Bren took as an opening to leave the conversation. The doll went over to her teammates still in the room, going off at NTW-20 and demanding that she come join her in the ring for a few rounds.
One group down. Four more to go.
(15:59)
"Sweepsweepsweepsweepsweepsweepsweepsweepsweepsweepsweepsweepsweep."
M1897 cleaned the dormitory hangar's floor with the intensity and eye for detail that only a doll programmed for such tasks could manage. She moved with speed and precision, covering every square inch. Under beds, behind cabinets, next to charging ports, over wires. Like a hunter-killer drone striking it's target, wiping it off the face of the earth before zooming onto another zone.
Corner to corner, side to side. Not a spec of dirt, dust or grease being allowed to live a second longer of it's wretched, filthy life.
Meanwhile, StG44 followed along. She carried an old pocket watch, silently stalking behind her junior as she worked. Double checking to see that nothing, absolutely nothing survived her onslaught.
M4, TAC-50 and IWS watched on from the sidelines, confused and slightly frightened. Neither of the cleaners had paid them any mind since they arrived.
They'd been standing there for the better part of ten minutes, watching the blondes tag team the cleaning job. M4 was quietly speaking on her radio, reporting their completion status to the Commander. IWS simply watched the dolls work, awestruck at their efficiency. TAC-50 had pulled her phone out, already planning to post this on the Griffin message boards.
"Halt!" StG44 ordered as M1897 pushed the last of the supposed dust into a trash bin. The tiny shotgunner shot up, spinning around and going to an attentive stance. She held her broom as if it was a long-rifle, bristles pressed against the floor and grip high as her chin was lifted.
StG44 then came forwards, crouching down and running her gloved fingers along the flat asphalt. She looked for traces of any streaks or residue, be it dirt or from the cleaner they'd used when mopping.
"...Sehr gut." StG44 declared, flipping her watch back open and checking the time. "And in almost record time, too. Well done."
Both M1897 and her blobby pet broke into a cheer, before she jumped to wrap her arms around her acting Captain. StG44 immediately lost all composure, pleading for the small American to stop hugging her before she had a panic attack. In no time, she went from stern supervisor to limp, flailing noodle.
TAC-50 grinned, focusing her camera further on the embrace. "Wanna bet this goes viral?"
"I'd rather not…" IWS mumbled, never having been very in tune with social media. "Is it alright to record them like this?"
TAC thought the question over for a few moments, before shrugging her shoulders. "Probably!"
After letting them squabble for a tad longer, the three did what they'd come to do. StG44 readily gave them a report as to what was happening with the remnants of Echelon 2, from the progress on their tasks for the day to a general report on how each of the girls was holding up. It was quick, clean and professional. Something that they'd come to expect of her, as long as Thompson wasn't involved.
Still, through the entire report, IWS could hear wisps of sorrow dance along StG's words. She was holding something back, not wishing to break the veneer of professionalism. Or maybe she simply didn't want to be a burden on others.
But there wasn't much IWS could do. At least, not when she was almost a stranger to this doll.
"Is there anything else you three need?" StG asked once she'd finished rattling off her report. M4 had been scribbling along without interruption, leaving IWS to take the head of speaking as per usual.
"Um… wasn't Aug assigned inspection duties?" IWS questioned, having expected to see her second in command waiting in the shade.
"Ja, she's resting in your team's room." StG readily informed, before jumping at the sound of clanging metal. All four dolls turned to see that M1897 had knocked over a rather sizable mop bucket, spilling soapy water over a wide stretch of the hangar floor.
"Damn it." StG cursed, running over to the now flustered cleaning doll. "I'm coming, Jesse! Cut the water off with the mop!"
The traveling trio watched with a mixed amount of mirth, before moving to enter the dolls' living quarters.
With the outpost's lack of a proper dormitory building, the hangar had been divided into sectors for each of the teams. Before the Commander's arrival, it had been split between the two echelons of the sector. But then the third team arrived, then the fourth, prompting that the building was reorganized and split into quarters. At night, or during poor weather, the large metal door would come down and fully encompass the artificial barriers within the hangar walls.
This of course made things difficult, not only for the teams having to share rooms, but for each team having to deal with the culture of the other.
The Americans of echelon one were obnoxiously loud well into the twilight hours, something that often forced the other teams into full shutdown mode just to get some manner of recharging done. At this point, many were beginning to believe they did it out of spite.
Echelon two's room was obviously the tidiest, but had the unfortunate side effect of always smelling like high concentrations of bleach. The scent perforated through the hangar, resembling 'inhumane chemical warfare' as AUG liked to put it. Attempts to get them to use less potent cleaners had gotten nowhere.
Echelon three tended to leave their muck everywhere, mostly due to K11's experiments or S.A.T.8's culinary adventures. This, more often than not, led to shouting matches both within the team and into the other groups when accusations of thievery came into play. Accusations that almost always fell flat once they actually looked for whatever was missing.
And echelon four was mostly rather normal… except when the Premier League or Formula One was on television. On which occasions every other team had made a pact to stay the hell away from the hangar until the Commonwealth girls tired themselves out. This went double for G36, who'd ended up developing a bit of a grudge when L85A1 had deeply insulted Bayern Munich.
It was like a dysfunctional apartment building, except with only one floor and an absentee landlord.
The three entered Echelon Three's room with ease, TAC-50 gasping at the decor within. Each section of the room had been neatly divided into its own microcosm, all centered around the bed of the particular doll who had staked a claim.
IWS' area was an organized set of cabinets filled with books, miniatures and historical pieces. Type 100 had bought whatever Japanese furniture she could get her hands on. S.A.T.8's slice was organized chaos, with both recipe books and mementos dotting the floor. K11's sector was complete chaos, wires and dangerous looking vials laid out in a way that was likely unsafe for humans.
AUG was sitting on her bed, still missing the arm that she'd lost during the defense of the outpost. Her area was… mostly empty. Monastic in nature, reflecting her background. The Priestess' head was bowed down, her remaining hand holding a string of beads as quiet Latin filled the room.
IWS promptly lifted both her hands, stopping her company in their tracks before pushing them back outside. M4 practically tripped over herself, not having expected to be shoved out as soon as she'd gone inside.
"Hey, hey! Easy!" TAC-50 protested, glaring at IWS over the shove. The Austrian quickly turned into a shrinking violet, firing off a volley of apologies as M4 looked back through the door.
"What's she doing…?" M4 asked, having never seen such an odd ritual.
"Praying. She does this once a day." IWS informed as TAC went back and looked around the corner of the doorframe.
"Oooh. Oops." TAC said, quieting down before turning over to IWS. "Does this have to do with her old job?"
IWS nodded her head, quietly pulling the door so it was almost closed. "She was the Bishop's secretary. Most of the time she was doing work in the city's cathedral, but she came to visit me at my work very often."
"Huh." TAC said, leaning forwards so she could peer through the crack in the door. "Didn't know we had a nun on the roster."
"Dolls can't become nuns. She was simply a sister." IWS sharply corrected, some tension spiking in her tone. Not that the Canadian seemed to notice.
"There's a difference?" TAC asked, trying to spot AUG once again. Though the doll had disappeared from view, along with the sound of solemn chanting. "I don't get it, why does she still do that stuff if she's not a-"
The door was then pushed open, knob smacking her right in the eye. For the second time in the day, TAC hit the floor and pawed at another blow to the face. M4A1 jumped into action, scrambling to see if there was a mark left.
AUG stood in the now open doorway, looking down at the scene with nothing but annoyance.
"I came here for solitude, not an audience." The Lieutenant stated poignantly, before offering a thumb drive to IWS. "Here."
IWS gazed upon the device inquisitively, taking it in hand and looking it over. "What's this for?"
"My report on the dorm inspection, as requested by the Commander." She clarified as TAC was hauled back up again, giving M4 a muted thank you as the two made sure no damage had been done to her optical lens. "That is why you came to bother me, yes?"
A switch flipped in IWS' head, before she then passed the device onto M4. The AR team leader then inserted the device into her tablet, a long text document opening to reveal AUG's extensive report. At least a dozen pages, in ten-point font and not even double spaced.
"O-oh…" M4 said, lifting her head to ask AUG if there was anything she wanted to add to the report. But as soon as she matched eyes with the doll's chilling gaze, the words died in her throat. Instead she looked back down at the report, lifting her device so it fully shielded her from AUG's frigid annoyance.
IWS, however, paid no mind to it. She'd long since become used to AUG's standoffish personality, though she also understood it tended to rub everyone else the wrong way.
"Do you need me to get you anything?" IWS asked, pulling M4 out of the line of fire.
"...You can leave me be. I'll be fine until supper." AUG said, before shutting the door closed after she retreated back inside. This time, the sound of locks being engaged punctuated her action.
TAC-50 grumbled, tapping the side of her head as she tried to pop her eye fully forwards again. "Here I thought sisters were supposed to be friendly."
IWS laughed nervously, but offered no rebuttal. Instead, she chose to usher her friends up and out of the dormitory hangar, back on track for the rest of their day's work. Apologizing for AUG's lack of tact could come later, once there was little left on their plate.
Two checks completed, three more left.
(16:08)
Their next destination was a short walk away. The main helicopter hangar, where the base's four Blackhawks were residing under the shelter of the roof. Only one of them was airworthy at the moment, the other three being worked on for maintenance by the human ground crews that served in the base's aviation department. There were also several large palettes worth of boxes sitting in the wings, a few logistics workers moving them out with a pair of forklifts.
As the trio walked inside, further in the back they could hear the sound of collective cheers. Cheers which lead them to a group of three logistics workers, Santiago and M16A1 surrounding an old wooden table and some unused chairs. Several bottles of lager, some full and some not, dotted the tabletop. The workers, along with M16, were cheering 'CHUG, CHUG CHUG' as the head pilot of the base was knocking back a bottle.
"Holy smokes." TAC said, coming to a halt to watch the spectacle. Again she produced her camera, though this time M4 jumped before her to block her angle. She wasn't going to allow her sister to become 'viral', whatever that meant.
Santiago yelled as she finished her drink, a whooping cheer echoing as she slammed the bottle down. The pilot punched the air, meanwhile M16 grabbed for one that was still unopened.
Which was when she saw the three new arrivals, saluting over to them with the drink in her hands. "Hey sis! Come join us!"
M4 spun around, nearly collapsing from embarrassment at how unprofessional her oldest sibling was being. IWS did nothing, mostly because she had no idea what to do. Drinking on the job was against policy, wasn't it? But Santiago was doing it, and she was one of the people in charge of the whole outpost. So… did that make it OK, or was she supposed to do something?
Thankfully for all of them, Santiago finally noticed that they had company. The aviation chief raised her voice, yelling for the rest of the human staff to get back to work. To which, after some bellyaching, they all proceeded to do. Meanwhile M16 began to nurse her beer as if nothing had changed.
The three surveyors came closer once the area had depopulated, with M4 still blushing up a storm and IWS still trying to figure out what the heck she should do. Which left the last of them to take the reins.
"Hiya, Missus Santiago!" TAC-50 readily greeted. "We're here to check on the air traffic!"
"Eh? Oh!" The buzzed woman said, before digging around her jumpsuit. Eventually she produced a thumb drive of her own, tossing it over to the still stunned IWS. "I was wondering when you caras would show up. But weren't there supposed to be only two of you?"
TAC managed to snatch the device before it hit IWS in the nose, passing it onto M4 so she could submit the information. "I'm giving them a bit of help. My team's leaving tomorrow, ya know."
"Ah, si, si…" Santiago said, remembering that the Commonwealth team would be departing with their superior. "Quite a shame, L-Eighty-Five has been some very nice company in my office."
TAC-50 smiled happily, knowing that the British doll would be happy to know that she'd made a new friend out here. "I'm sure she'll miss you too! This place has been great, really! Everyone's been extremely accommodating with us."
"Except our pig-headed Commander, no doubt." Santiago lamented, pulling over a chair and sitting herself down. "Work, work, work. All he does is make us work. He even has me logging all of these new supplies. Do I look like a logistics clerk?"
"C'mon, fly-girl. Y'know that Polish chick was the one who asked you to do this." M16 reminded, belching after finishing
"And I'm sure that he put Kalina up to it! The coward never speaks to anyone directly!" Santiago insisted, not wanting to give their leader the benefit of the doubt.
As the pilot continued to vent her frustrations out to her drinking partner, TAC-50 fell back to stand in between her stalled associates. Poking each of them with her elbows, she nodded over to the human before them.
"She really doesn't like the Commander." TAC observed, something that made IWS wince.
"Hsu and Santiago don't really… mix." The Austrian explained. "They have very different personalities. She's more outgoing while he's very reclusive."
"You'd think he shot her dog." TAC insisted, remembering the chat she'd had with the man on the hill while the base's power was gone. Maybe there had been some fallout before her team had arrived here? Or perhaps Hsu had placed Santiago in a position she hadn't really appreciated.
Either way, eventually she tired herself out. Which allowed M16 to part from the conversation and beckon the surveyors to follow her. She lead them over to the far side, next to the rows of crates that had been shipped in earlier that day.
"So-" M16 began, grabbing a crowbar and waving for M4 to come over to her. "-that Logistics chick asked me to do some inspections for the gear she ordered. It's all surplus from the War, but a decent chunk of it's still in good condition."
M4 went across from M16 as the latter slipped the pry bar under the hood of the crate. The two snipers watched as the siblings dislodged the lid, then pulled it off to reveal whatever was inside. M16 stuck her hands in, pulling out the first thing her fingers touched; a ragged grey smock.
"Is… that a blanket?" IWS asked, looking at the ratty thing with undisguised disgust. M16 shook her head, going over to TAC-50 and offering the thing over.
"Go ahead, looks like it's about your size." She said, TAC taking the gift without asking questions. She felt it in her hands, running her fingers along until she discovered seams that lead to a hood and collar. Realizing what the article was, she flipped it over and pulled her head through.
"It's a cape!... Why do we need capes?" TAC asked once she was properly wearing the thing.
"It's a camo-cape. Masks your electronic sig." M16 explained, tapping her head. "Androids like us give off a field whenever we're on. It's what makes it easy for us to track, it's also how Sangvis hones in on us so fast."
"Oooooh." TAC said, understanding as she gave the hem a pull. "...Do they have one in orange?"
M16 chuckled at the doll's desire to remain fashionable, before looking back at her sister. "What else do we got in there?"
M4 began digging in next, before pulling up a green digital camouflage vest with several straps wrapped around it. "This seems… older than the War."
"Ratnik vests? The hell?" M16 questioned, going over to the box and digging out another vest. "Gotta be shitting me. This stuff's ancient, it's from the Twenty-Twenties!"
"What do we need vests for, anyway? Kevlar doesn't work on Sangvis." TAC asked, giving a twirl as she grew more accustomed to her new cape. IWS grabbed the ragged end, still frowning at how gastly it looked.
"Probably thought it looked cool…" M16 griped, putting a vest on herself and patting it down. "Actually… the webbing still looks good. Could probably bring a lot of extra ammo with us."
"That's good, right?" TAC asked, focusing on M4. "You guys keep running out of magazines, right?"
"Um… s-sometimes." M4 said. She had to admit, bringing along extra ammunition was difficult given what equipment she had.
All the while, M16 continued to pull out more equipment. The eldest AR doll looked at it all, turning up her nose at how old it all appeared to be. From that point on, M16 made a mental note to remember how much of a cheapskate Kalina was. But this could be salvaged, with some jury rigging and ingenuity. All M16 would need was a few… 'volunteers' for some tests.
Sensing danger, and having done what they'd come to do, IWS quickly ushered her and her friends out of the hangar.
Their next stop would certainly be better for their health, surely. Only two stops remain.
(16:44)
"Cables?" K11 asked, the left side of her head covered in electrical tape after the shot she'd taken.
"Check." M14 answered, a welding mask lifted over her face.
"Current?"
"Stable."
"Safety governor?"
"Disabled!" M14 reported, grinning like nuts.
"Eeeexcellent…" K11 said with the same manic glee, pulling a pair of goggles down over her… eye.
The survey team had arrived at the fourth stop of the day, originally planning on checking the progress of K11 and M14's designated task. After the battle, there had been an extreme amount of Sangvis debris and android bodies littering the outpost's perimeter. The metal could be salvaged, or at the very least sold to a third party.
So the Commander had given the two dolls a simple job; take it all apart for scrap. Simple, given K11's mechanical knowledge and M14's civilian background as an electrician.
Sadly, he didn't know what would happen once the two grew bored.
In the engineering bay, on a center platform, sat an almost totally intact Dinergate. It's AI had been decommissioned, it's small plasma cannon stripped off. But the body remained functional, and had recently been… 'modified' by K11 to house a dummy processor. The mad inventor had begun a new pet project, it seems. Dummy linked Sangvis dolls.
And no, she hadn't asked for permission. Not that M14 needed to know that.
Wires connected the dinergate to the roof, with K11's unknowing assistant standing behind the powerbank ready to flip the switch. IWS, TAC-50 and M4 had all stood back to watch the chaos unfold. Not willingly, mind. M4 had asked to simply be given K11's progress report so they could be on their way. But the Korean doll insisted, promising to hand over what they were looking for only after they witnessed her genius.
So now, captive audience in the wings, she gave M14 the signal to flip the switch.
M14 flipped her face protection down, turning several knobs and letting the power flow into the dinergate. The room's lights flickered, blue arcs of electricity coursing through the Sangvis robot's chassis.
"Come on… come on…" K11 pleaded.
The dinergate sparked, before lifting up slowly. It's pink eye began to blink, before shining brightly. It swayed back and forth on it's small legs, having come online with the sudden power.
"Yes! It WORKED!" K11 cheered, jumping up and down in place as she grabbed onto the sleeve of IWS' coat "I'm a genius! I'm-"
Then, a spark shot out from the experiment. Then another, before it began to twitch.
"-Ssi-bal!" K11 said, before beginning to run for cover.
Not even a second later, the dinergate exploded into a dozen fragments. Everyone hit the deck as fast as they could, smoking metal shooting out across the room.
For the third time that day, someone rammed itself straight into TAC-50's forehead as she was knocked over and hit the ceramic. M14 cowered behind the console, IWS covered her head and yelped, and M4 kicked a table over and hid behind.
The drone continued to cook off like a firecracker for a full two minutes, electric wires flying out and sparking until M14 finally killed the current once and for all.
Slowly, everyone rose from their positions of… relative safety. Both M4 and M14 poked their heads around their barriers as if they were on a grenade range. IWS scuttered back on her hands and feet. Meanwhile, TAC continued to lay on the floor, having produced her phone again and was… texting someone.
K11 eventually showed herself, twirling her goggles around on a finger. "Damn. Damn! I swore we had it that time!"
"Th-that wasn't the first try?" M4 asked. "What happened to the others?!"
"Don't ask questions you don't need the answer to." K11 quickly said, scooping her team captain off of the floor and dusting some smoky pellets off of her grand coat. "It'll work next time though, you'll see."
"Do you really need to try this again?" IWS asked, sensing that she was about to be stuck here for another thirty minutes. But more important than that, she was now deathly afraid of losing her head.
K11 flashed her leader the best slimy used car saleswoman smile she had, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "C'mon, Weiss! Just imagine it. An army of Griffin Sangvis dolls, reprogrammed so we never have to stick our necks out again."
"But… didn't humans hire us so they didn't have to risk being hurt?" IWS questioned, finding that goal to seem redundant.
"They won't mind! Just picture it!" She insisted, gesturing out with her free hand to a non-existent horizon. "One million dinergates, to save a billion Griffin dolls!"
"I am not sure where you are getting those numbers-"
"It's an elegant plan! Don't you see?!" K11 promised, having completely bought into her own hype. However, she could tell that her sales pitch hadn't landed on IWS. If anything it seemed to make the already anxious doll even more against pursuing this idea.
So, K11 did the next best thing. She hopped over to the now upright TAC-50 and started her proposal from the top. "How about you, Tac? It'll be just like using Maple Moon, but with twenty of him! With lasers!"
TAC-50 also looked unimpressed, pocketing her cellular device and clicking her tongue. She stayed silent, tapping her foot as she waited for something to happen. Which was when the base's intercom crackled to life.
"K-Eleven. My office. NOW!" An infuriated Commander demanded. "M-Four, don't let her run!"
M4A1 was already behind K11 before the chemist knew what was happening, grabbing both of her arms and twisting her down onto the concrete. After a short scuffle, the special operations doll firmly planted her knee on her back and pinned her in place. Defeated, K11 looked up at the sniper with both hurt and muted anger.
"You dirty little tattletale!" She yelled as she was hauled back up, being dragged off by her newly nominated prison guard through the bay's main doors. "You ruined it! You walked all over my genius with your dirty boots! Over the crisp white sheets of my bed! Traitor! Traitooooooooo-!"
The door hissed shut behind them as they left, and IWS simply stared at her Canadian counterpart. TAC held up a victory sign, smugly smiling at her deed. By the console a now fearful M14 scrambled to dig up the report that the three had come for in hopes to avoid being hauled away as an accomplice.
One last team to check up on.
(17:29)
M4A1 soon reunited with her group, reporting to them that K11 had been 'voluntold' to help with cleaning detail for the next few weeks after her dressing down.
The final team was the patrol echelon, dolls from assorted teams that had been grouped together after the Commander had decided he wanted another layer of security beyond the automated systems. After Sangvis' attack, he wanted to make sure that the entire area around the outpost was uncontested by any opposing force. Be it Sangvis or bandits.
So, instead of waiting for them to return, the trio had decided to gear up and find their comrades. Something that M4A1 and TAC-50 seemed to quite enjoy, being able to stretch their legs after dealing with work on base all day.
Now they found themselves honing in on the GPS marker of the patrol team, greeted by the sound of a grenade launcher being fired. All three of them hit the ground, looking up to see a smoke trail flying right towards them, arcing down… only to explode into a color of bright red smoke. As the three hacked up a storm and pushed through the tinted smog, they began to hear manic laughter.
Once they cleared the cloud and their vision was restored, SOPMOD could be seen standing on top of a tall mound of dirt that seemed to have been kicked up from a mine going off. AR-15, BAR, PPSh-41 and S.A.T.8 each appeared soon after. AR-15 slugged her sibling in the shoulder, before the team walked down to join their unfortunate target practice.
"Hee hee hee! Great shot, huh M-Four?" SOP asked, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she'd given away all of their positions in the grandest of displays. Either that, or she simply didn't care.
Still, M4 couldn't really stay mad at her sister, approaching the doll and giving her a pat on the head. "Your aim's getting really good, Sop."
AR-15 rolled her eyes, going to hold security as the groups converged. S.A.T.8 pulled her usual team leader to the side, allowing the others to converse with one another.
"Is everything going well, Signora? We didn't expect anyone to cross our picket." The shotgunner asked.
IWS nodded along, holding her cannon at a low ready. "The Commander just wanted us to make sure that you are all fine out here."
"He can speak to us through Zener, we aren't out of range."
"'Communication redundancy.' His words." IWS answered, something that made S.A.T shake her head.
"That man overthinks these things." She decided, before giving her leader a smile. "And you, Miss Weiss? How are you doing?"
"Y-you don't have to call me by my real name." IWS said, shifting nervously. She still wasn't used to people using her given name again, even after Hsu had told the dolls that they were free to call themselves whatever they pleased between each other.
But, S.A.T was unperturbed. Like K11, she was wearing a swath of electrical adhesive over her left eye. Though in her case, it was significantly less so, after having only lost the eye itself rather than half of her face as the chemist had.
"We are friends, no? Friends act friendly with one another." She insisted, smiling as warmly as the blonde lion's mane that curled around her. "I call you 'Weiss', you call me 'Theresa'. We call Aug… what is the Madre's name?"
"She prefers being called 'Aug' now." IWS answered, leaving the mystery alone. S.A.T seemed disappointed, but paid it no further mind.
Meanwhile, BAR and M4 had been trading information. The former explaining that her team hadn't come into contact at all during this excursion. It had been nothing but a great deal of walking and babysitting, namely policing SOPMOD's bad habits and doing her best that PPSh-41 didn't learn some herself. Especially seeing as SOP had been collecting whatever Sangvis fragments they came across for her own 'personal projects', whatever that meant.
M4 yet again felt herself seizing up from embarrassment, but managed to hold on this time around. She merely bobbed her head, thanking BAR for taking care of both her sisters and giving them her report without any pushback. The AR team leader even let the incident involving K11 slip out, which made BAR laugh out loud.
"Ho-lee crap! Did she really try to 'Doctor Frankenstein' a dinergate?" She asked.
"Sadly…" M4 confirmed.
"Can't make this stuff up, I swear." The machinegunner said, still giggling in between sentences. "Not gonna lie, kid. Stuff like that's why I hate being in charge."
"You do?" M4 asked, never having caught onto such a preference. "The Commander seems to give you quite a few positions of authority."
BAR shrugged, cradling her century-old weapon as if it was a baby. "He's an old head, like me. Means we tend to think alike."
"So that's why the others call you Auntie." M4, unwittingly stepping on a landmine as a wave of malevolence overcame the old android. Soon BAR entered a tear, demanding the names of which dolls had given her such an insulting nickname, all the while insisting that she 'wasn't that old' and had 'plenty of years left in her.'
M4 desperately tried to calm her down, never meaning any offense. But it was a losing battle, as it always was whenever someone had crossed this dangerous line. As the eight of them marched back to the base, now each and every doll there was subjected to a thesis on how BAR wasn't even close to being obsolete yet.
At least no one had gotten hit this time.
(18:30)
M4A1 and IWS 2000 walked into Hsu's office to see him deflated and annoyed.
The Commander had very clearly been working through the day. Stacks of paperwork were set to the side, neatly organized within manilla folders. Several emptied mugs of coffee dotted the desk, surrounding his laptop. Hsu himself looked as terrible as ever, whatever sleep schedule that G36 had managed to force him on having long since been abandoned when the base was assaulted.
As M4A1 handed over her datapad, IWS spoke with their shared concern. "Kommandant, do you need us to help?"
The man shook his head, producing a cable and connecting the datapad to his laptop. "No, no. This is the last thing I need to format. Won't fix the problem anyway."
"What problem?" M4 inquired.
"Helian just told me the reinforcements I requested were diverted. They were supposed to arrive tomorrow." He explained, clearly annoyed that he'd been robbed of the Israeli team. "We're also going to be getting new marching orders soon. So I've been making sure that the shipment of replacement chassis doesn't get delayed."
IWS' mood dimmed at the mention of 'marching orders', knowing well enough herself that the sector was nowhere near combat effective in its current state. Most of their dolls were some kind of casualty, and the fourth echelon would be leaving them tomorrow morning. It was why TAC had departed, going to help her team finish their final travel preparations.
Hsu continued his motions without penalty, fingers chattering against the keyboard at lightning speed as he began to compile and refine the reports that were now staring at him from the screen. After writing for a living, this kind of paperwork seemed like a return to normalcy for him. That and the inane amount of bureaucratic bloat that had plagued the Canadian Army before its demise.
"She told me that she'll have the details from Headquarters before she leaves tomorrow." He relayed, stopping to crack his knuckles. "Doesn't matter. As long as we get today's work done, tomorrow's work can be handled tomorrow."
"So… is there nothing else for us?" IWS asked, the Commander swiveling his gaze onto M4 specifically.
"How's your team adjusting to life here?"
"They seem to be enjoying themselves. Sixteen has already become friendly with Miss Ines."
"Figured those two would hit it off. Reason why I paired them together." Hsu explained, having evaluated both M16 and AR-15 the day they had been brought back to the outpost.
M16 reminded him of Thompson, though more responsible and less prickly to others. Laid back, smug and more than a bit arrogant. But she seemed to have the skills to back up that arrogance, and was more than happy to tell people how to do something the right way before catastrophe struck.
AR-15, however, was more like AUG. Reserved, cold, standoffish. Though unlike AUG, she also shared M16's inflated sense of self-worth. Whereas M16 wanted to help the other dolls learn, AR-15 almost domineered over them. But there was more to it than that, more than he'd been able to figure out in the few days both had been under his watch.
Each member of the Anti-Rain team seemed just as colorful as the next. Keeping them around would probably make his life harder, even if they were special operations dolls. It wasn't like he needed his own group of operators. Hell, they'd probably be less useful than a dedicated heavy infantry echelon.
Alas, he didn't think he'd get any better at this point. Besides, it was clear to him that M4 liked being here. He wasn't going to kick her to the curb because of his own unit preference.
"IWS, stay. M-Four, you're free to go. Tell Sat she's still on mess duty." The Commander ordered. M4 complied, bowing her head and departing without any further requests.
He then focused on the remaining android, who felt yet another anxiety spike after being left alone with the cynic.
"I'll make this quick. I want you to be my new Operations Adjutant." Hsu explained.
"W-why me?" IWS stammered, yet again being blindsided by the man's bluntness.
"Did some digging on that Professor you mentioned." The Commander explained, returning to typing as he spoke. "Leopold Hess, teaches History at the University of Innsbruck. Became faculty a half a year after the war ended. Does that sound right?"
IWS blinked, never having thought that the Commander would be able to narrow down the man who had taken her under his wing. Noticing her expression, Hsu smugly smirked. "Don't look too shocked. I used to dig up dirt on politicians for a living."
The sniper nodded, recalling that G36 had mentioned that the Hsu 'had the nose of a bloodhound and the focus of a fish.' Suppose this is what she had meant by that.
Still, the Commander pressed on with his explanation, finishing up another paragraph on his laptop before closing it. "During and before the War, he was the Colonel in command of the Sixth Brigade. Gerber…"
"Gebirgsjäger. Mountain Hunter."
"Thank you." He said, making a mental note that he should probably learn German after finishing his Ukrainian language tapes. "Still, he was an important guy. Fought hard during the War. He was one of the reasons why when the Serbians and Soviets overran Slovenia, they never made it to Austria."
"He is a hero. And an exceptionally kind man." She said, puffing her chest up as her voice became resolute. "He treated me like a daughter, he was even the one who named me. I still speak to him regularly."
"Explains all the calls you make back to your hometown." He said, quickly seeing his guest shooting up red yet again. "Don't worry, I don't listen in. It's for Opsec."
IWS unwinded yet again, relieved that she wasn't being wiretapped. Be it during her conversations with her adoptive father, or the more intimate discussions she had with… others.
"Look, this guy… he's clearly a better officer than I am. And he must have passed some of what he knew down to you." Hsu readily admitted, knowing his own accomplishments couldn't hold a candle to those of someone who'd single-handedly saved an entire front. "It explains why you're able to analyze these battle maps so well. Or give good top-down commands. Plus you've excelled in the theoretical part of the lectures I've been giving.
"All Herr Hess did was teach me history and how to play with toy soldiers." IWS insisted, not believing that she held any special abilities. Moreso, she seemed to actively refuse that she could. After stumbling from sector to sector in Griffin, the life of a C-list team leader was something she'd long resigned herself to.
"And all I do is direct markers on a map and look through all of your video feeds." Hsu deflected. "You've got talent, Weiss. Doll or not, you've got a General's brain, not a Captain's. And I need that kind of help planning operations."
Yet he could see that IWS didn't seem to budge. So, seeing that he might not get an answer at the moment, Hsu eased the pressure. "If you want to refuse, it's fine. Even with the pay raise, it's a lot of extra work. If you don't feel comfortable-"
"Promise me you'll take better care of yourself!" IWS demanded, the jump in volume making the Commander almost jump out of his chair. Ironically the second time she'd made him do so that day.
"We've all noticed your disappearance, Mister Hsu! Half the base is worried sick, and the rest are scared after what happened to our friends." The doll said, well and truly planting her feet on the proverbial soapbox. "Even when we won, so many of us didn't come home! Now our own leader won't show himself unless he absolutely has to, and when he does, he looks more weary than we do! You don't eat, you barely sleep, all you do is work and then melt into the walls! Not even a doll such as I could sustain themselves doing as you do!"
IWS' chest heaved as she managed to bring herself back down. Both herself and the Commander seemed taken aback by such an out of character speech. She never liked conflict. She hated it, be it interpersonal or even physical. She didn't even enjoy fighting Sangvis, merely seeing it as a necessary duty rather than some sort of tacky bloodsport like others did.
But even so, someone had to say something. G36 wasn't here… G36's death may have even been the catalyst. Someone had to intervene.
"I cannot take on this position unless you swear to me that you'll take care of yourself." The doll insisted, tears beginning to form in the corner of her eyes. "Please, Mister Hsu. I hate seeing people who've taken care of me so miserable. It's awful… I can't stand it."
Hsu frowned, rapping his fingers against his desk. He then stood up, pulling a rag from the breast pocket of his commander's coat and approaching IWS. Carefully, he tilted the girl's head up, wiping her face clean.
"Jesus Christ… first Gretel, now you." He muttered as he continued his motions. "You kids are gonna drive me crazy. Like I'm running a Secondary School."
IWS sniffed, offering no rebuttal or resistance. She simply let the Commander do his work, silently grateful for the show of affection. It was the first physical gesture she'd been given since leaving home. When the Professor had seen her off at the airport, giving her one last embrace.
The Commander finished up, folding the rag and slipping it back into his pocket. "Better?"
"B-better…" The doll replied, giving her cheek a wipe with her sleeve as well. Once again Hsu was taken aback by how human these robots acted, even being given human tics to emulate their creators.
At first it was creepy, now it was strangely comforting.
"Come on, let's go get dinner." Hsu said, walking over to the door of his office.
IWS spun about, but didn't move from her spot.
"But I didn't give you an answer." She said, having expected him to use the opening as a platform to cajole her into caving in.
"You will when you have one. And I'm starving anyway, haven't eaten since last night." Hsu responded, opening the door. He nodded his head out to the hallway, waiting for his temporary assistant to come and join him.
He didn't have to wait long at all.
A/N: Fun fact, this chapter was supposed to be 5K words long. It was not 5K words long. Fluff compels me to write it. We'll just call this two updates in one.
o/
