I've always been picky about the "First Contact" in crossovers, and because this is my first attempt at such a story, I've sat on this for a while. You know what they say, "The Beginning is always the hardest." It's a short chapter, but what with how crazy things are, I'll be writing smaller chapters for a more frequent upload.

This takes place a few months after the previous chapter (Not counting the android sections. Those will be side stories, so to speak, to give some characterization for A2 and the rest of Nier: Automata's world).

Deep in the bowels of a hidden lair, the special operative snuck. Like a ninja- a stealthy, positively badass ninja with hair and eyes as dark as midnight itself, she stood outside the ominous doors to the final chamber, wherein lied the prize. Intelligent, beautiful, and decked out more heavily than anyone else, she could take an army, she could-

"Ach, mein Gott Angelia, I know you're out there!"

No, she most certainly wasn't, she thought to the she-devil's voice from the intercom, she's a stealthy badass who wouldn't be caught so easily, nor would she be taken ali-

"I can see you on my cameras. I tracked your aircraft the moment you entered a 200-mile radius, and I can hear you talking to yourself! Stupid human."

"Well bully for you then!" The woman, Angelia, growled. "Just let me inside before I decide to leave this dump, and hire someone else!"

With more than a handful of expletives and curses to make a sailor blush, the blast door wooshed open. Green eyes, silver hair, and a tacky uniform greeted her… not to mention the assault rifle, complete with silencer and under-mounted grenade launcher.

Doesn't she realize berets are so last century?

"You know what? You just so happen to be right, Angelia. This place is a dump, and you-!" The silver-haired T-Doll pointed angrily, "Are the one who assigned it to us!"

The former Griffin Commander decided, right then and there, to be finished with this job as soon as possible. Her date with destiny….well, more a meeting with a sad cat lady, was up next.

And isn't it just plain sad that I prefer these four misfits to her company?

She shivered.

The safehouse, an indistinguishable and abandoned bunker from the Second Cold War, was just about as stark as the unforgiving tundra above them. The ceiling was low, there were next to no decorations, and the only heat source was an old furnace in the center of the room.

Angelia unconsciously gazed over the room, first checking for traps, cameras, and bugs, or cats. The soft snores of a sleeping bag were all that greeted her.

"So, 416." she started, "Where's the Terrible Twosome? They didn't leave you behind on their next mission, did they?"

A whispered clack of a charging handle answered the question.

"Well well well, if it isn't our old friend Angelia~" Tactical Doll UMP45 cooed from behind. Her submachine gun was idly raised to the human's head, not keeping the sardonic glee out of her voice. "Did you miss us so much that you came to visit us so soon...unannounced?"

"Heh. It seems you almost got me this time," Angelica looked over her shoulder with a chuckle. "Still though, I think deadman-switch explosives still beat out guns."

Whether or not UMP45 actually called her bluff or not (and it was likely, what with how her baggy jacket could conceal most any weapon, explosives included), Angelica smiled as the SMG lowered.

"Well, it seems you're not completely senile yet~."

That is waaay too far, you bucket of bolts!

She opened her mouth to tell her so, and more, but a brownish and squealing blur knocked the operative onto her behind. Air was forced from her lungs in an oof, but she still smiled.

"UMP9. Keeping a leash on your sister for me?"

UMP9, with scars and physical similarity that mirrored her older sister, was definitely the bubbly member of the dysfunctional team called 404. Like her sister, her specialization in electronic warfare set her above and beyond the average T-Doll.

At the cost of proper FC or Command Modules, of course, but that didn't stop them from infiltrating the most highly protected systems yet. UMP45 and UMP9 were unique, and that made them perfect for working with her.

Also a dysfunctional outcast of society, with far more luck than she deserved.

The T-Doll leaned forward expectantly, eyes somehow getting wider.

"Nyeheehee~ of course, I am! If you pat my head, I'll double down on it, too!"

With a chuckle, Angie obliged. "Well, since the whole 'family' is here…" Her eyes hardened, and her cheerful demeanor became professional. "I've got a job for you, UMP45."

"Ja, Arschloch, we figured as much." 416 growled. "Do I dare ask who it's for this time?"

Angelia rolled her eyes as UMP9 swatted the renegade AR.

"We'll take it, Angie. I trust that you'll be paying the proper amount," UMP45 said. She sat down on a crate and leaned against the wall, eyes closed in a smirk. "Now go on, I need my beauty sleep."

The human operator grinned, turning on her heels.

"I knew I could count on you guys. You'll get the information and half payment upfront, the rest of it later."

She paused, "Oh before I forget, I hope you enjoy babysitting a prototype Sangvis~"

""...WHAT?!""

Mission complete (or at least her end of it), the former Commander whistled on her way out the bunker, through the dilapidated streets of an old, nameless city, and to her private helicopter.

Persica's gonna be happy about this...