It's quiet here. Should that come though; no, not really. It's always quiet here, just as it should be. If it was noisy, then that means something was going on. Something that usually requires him getting pulled from bed and sent out.
"Time to wake up, dog."
'Speak of the devil…' Laying back in what's less of a room and more of a cell, a young man just glances towards the door to find that someone was calling out to him. It's not his Handler, the one responsible for giving him his jobs, but someone closely associated with them. Well, someone closer to them than he was.
Getting to his feet the young man, known more by those annoying titles, or his ID number, the 'Dog' just gets to his feet and stretches his arms out before heading over to the door as he was let out.
"Get suited up." The one picking him up muttered as they turned and started walking off. "We got a job for you." They grumble as the Dog just starts following him to get where he needs to go.
The ship they're on is built less with comfort in mind and more for efficiency. Made a bit of sense considering the fact that this thing used to be a military vessel, and by that he didn't mean the old cartoon sci fi vessel. This thing feels as cold as one might expect; steel gray walls lined everything, and it leaves the impression of being more of a sealed iron box than anything.
An iron box with armor specifically made to withstand an onslaught of both direct and grazing fire, not to mention the vacuum of space.
'Space…' Letting that word echo out in his head the Dog couldn't help glance to the side as he saw what rested beyond the bulletproof glass.
Space; the great expanse, that unkind vacuum that the stars scarcely cover. Man and beast alike used to look up at it, wondering just what was hidden behind the confines of the rock they called Earth. That was a long time ago though. Humanity has long since stopped dreaming about the stars.
There was no need to dream about such things anymore.
"What's the matter, dog? Something catch your eye?" The dog just made a face slightly before shaking his head, turning away as he started walking again.
"No. Not at all."
Earth.
This was where it all started.
The riots, the wars between nations, the rise of those amoral corporations… everything that had happened to humanity could be traced back to Earth.
And this was where Handler Torchwood was dropping his dog off today.
Swear to high hell he always hated it when the ship was coming in from orbit. Something about being stuck in a 350 meter ship that weighed somewhere between 60,000 and 70,000 metric tons falling from orbit just scared the shit out of him. Thanks to the windows, he could look outside and see the outer hull 'burning up' as made entry.
Whole thing reminded him that the ship was more of a giant coffin than anything.
The Dog released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when the fires outside the ship disappeared, meaning that they'd passed the 'burning coffin' part of their journey and moved on to the 'falling coffin' part of their journey.
"Relax…" The Dog muttered as he looked outward. "Everything will be fine…" He told himself as he saw the world beneath him.
It looked terrible.
A string of orbital strikes had hit the world so hard the maps didn't just need to be redrawn; but it actually tilted the planets and altered the pattern of the seasons.
The oceans rose and consumed cities, whole mountain ranges were pummeled into dust, and parts of the continents just… vanished.
And that was just caused by the Orbital Bombardments.
The radiation caused by a few Power Plants going nuclear?
The fall of several airship colonies?
Earth was a mess…
But it was still home.
"Home huh…" The dog muttered to himself before making an almost humored noise. "Home… been a while since I thought of it like that." He muttered to himself as he leaned against a wall and just continued to stare outward.
The ship docks at the military base set up near one of the old cities, it's not a deserted part of the world, but it could use some repairs, or they could just leave it as it was; guess it didn't matter in the end.
"Handler Torchwood." A man in a maintenance uniform mutters as he stares at the man walking up to him. "I apologize for calling you here at such short notice." The Handler, a man of a certain 'breed' - a man who cared little for anything that didn't further the development of his own goal - just waved lazily.
"It's fine." He stated, his voice sounded callus and heavy. "I was planning on making a trip over anyway." He admitted. "So that we aren't wasting time… shall we?
"Of course." The mechanic stated as he made a gesture to lead the Handler off somewhere. "I hope your trip was well." He said as they walked on.
"A trip through space is as one might expect; dull and quiet as things can get, Officer Wiltson." The Handler states. "And that is how I prefer it."
"Of course." The handler noticed the officer's entourage glancing behind him, and in turn he looked over to see that a figure was following them their pilot suit was already fastened into place, and their helmet was settled atop their head to hide their identity. "You're Hound, I take it?" The Officer receives a nod as the hound walks up to them.
"One of them anyway." The Handler muttered. "The one we'll be using."
"I see." Wiltson muttered as he looked back ahead and fell silent. "He's smaller than I thought he'd be." The Handler just nodded his head, as his hound looked elsewhere. "Will he suffice for the testing?"
"I wouldn't have chosen him for this otherwise."
"Of course, my apologies."
"Speaking of which…" The Handler spoke up as he looked at his counterpart. "Given that you called when you did, I'll take it that it's finished?"
"Yes." The mechanic nodded as he started making a few gestures. "I'm afraid to admit that it took a bit longer than we expected. The New Operating System was… difficult to get together." The man admitted. "Just a bit, anyway." The man paused. "But it's done, thankfully. The Mobile Suit is ready for testing."
"Good." The handler muttered as they made their way towards the hanger.
Mobile Suits… there probably wasn't a damn soul in the human race that didn't know what those were.
After all, they were at the heart of the war that happened a few centuries ago. And to think, they used to just be toys made in honor of an old tv series. If memory served them right, the first fully automated Mobile Suit was the RX-78F00. Not sure why the Japanese made it, but at the same time it didn't really matter. What mattered was it was the first Mobile Suit, a piece of fiction - a weapon that was brought into reality. A weapon that reshaped the face of warfare.
After it was made, other nations started building their own Mobile Suits in secret, building them to be weapon utilized when world war three broke out.
Not 'if' world war three broke out; 'when'...
The Hound looked at the Unit before him, tried identifying the unit in front of him. He failed unfortunately. If there were only 12 or 13 different Mobile Suits out there, then maybe he'd be able to identify the build, but no there were, quite literally, thousands upon thousands of different Mobile Suits out there in this god forsaken universe. And each of them had the firefire to destroy a city.
And they were typically deployed in squads or whole platoons…
"I don't recognize this build." The Hound admitted, their helmet distorting their voice a bit. "What model it?"
It's an EDM model, to be exact it's an EDM-GB, also known as Gundvölva."
"Never heard of it." The Hound muttered as he crossed his arms. "What series was it from?"
"The Witch of Mercury." The Hound turned to him. "It's considered the fifteenth mainstream created by the old Gundam Franchise, and if I'm correct, it was the first entry to have a female protagonist, let alone one that was a lesbian." The Mechanic stated before looking back at the machine. "Anyway, the Gundvölva was an unmanned Mobile Suit controlled by a system known as the GUND-BIT."
"GUND-BIT…" The Hound muttered. "Bit…" He continued. "So it's like the Bit Mobile Suits produced by the After War Timeline."
"Yes, that's a perfect comparison." The mechanic nodded his head as he gave the Hound a small smile. "Anyway, we were told to repurpose it as a manned unit, and see how well it works under the control of an actual pilot. To do such we had to remove the GUND-BIT system and create a whole new OS from scratch." He stated. "Unfortunately, because it's a new OS, we're not certain how well it will respond to a pilot's orders."
"That's where you come in." Handler Torchwood stated. "You'll be acting as Gundvölva's test pilot, you'll be testing the results for the new Operating System."
"Sounds simple enough." The Hound muttered. "You got a manual for me to read beforehand?"
"Of course." The Mechanic muttered, as he held out a book for the Hound to take hold of. "How Long do you think you'll need before you're ready?"
"At most, thirty minutes." The Hound stated.
"Then that's how long you'll get." The Handler stated. "After thirty minutes are up, we're sending you that we're sending you for a test run." Torchwood just looked at his Hound. "If you haven't read everything important in that book by then, you'll have to figure out the rest in the field. Understood?"
"Understood."
Book in hand the hound headed straight for the suit, used the stairway to reach the cockpit and got comfortable. "Not a bad seat." The Hound muttered as he toyed with the control sticks for a moment, being sure to not touch the button labeled 'on' before looking around. "A pretty simple set up, just the way I like it." The Hound muttered in approval.
Simple probably wasn't the right word a non-pilot would use. There's various screens and panels set up around the cockpit, and yet, compared to some of the other units he'd piloted in his career, this was rather simple. Simple, old fashioned and easy to adjust too.
Pulling his helmet off, the Hound took a breath of fresh air as he turned on a few basic systems in order to get some light trailing about the cockpit so he could read, in doing so he had to turn the unit on, and he could almost feel the Mobile Suit's heart, the ultra-compact fusion reactor, starting to 'beat'.
Reaching for his instruction manual the Hound stopped when he noticed something appearing on the Main terminal.
[Individual Information Attestation System Start Up]
The Hound blinked, somewhat taken back by the fact that the MobileSuit was equipped with this system. "Huh… already got this installed huh." He muttered as he adjusted his attention towards a small camera he had failed to notice earlier. "Guess they wanna make sure that no one unauthorized gets their hand on you." Staring at the camera he watched as a face and retinal scan was being taken of him as his face appeared on screen.
The Individual Information Attestation System was a pilot identification system that had been put together for one of the old Gundam Series, 00 if he remembered correctly. In the series it was designed to authorize one specific pilot for a specific machine, making sure that the Mobile Suit wasn't being used by anyone besides their designated pilots; and when the Nations of the real world got their hands on the technology they basically got it to do the same thing. Helped make sure that the Mobile Suit's couldn't be stolen by outside forces.
[Facial Recognition… Verified]
[Pilot ID… P7-142]
[Callsign… Noblesse Artorias]
[Sex... Male]
[Bloodtype… O]
[Nationality: Earthian]
[Date of Birth…30/11/2203]
The nearby screen settled on his registered ID as the machine continued its initial start up sequence as a second screen popped up, this one saying [Audio Only].
Hello pilot.
A feminine voice called out.
I am Onboard AI Assistant, code name Artemis. It is a pleasure to meet you.
"An onboard AI system…" The Hound muttered as he stared at the Audio message and made a noise. "It's nice to meet you." He stated as he turned to the manual in his lap and opened it." "I wasn't told that the Mobile Suit still had an onboard AI…" He admitted. "I was led to believe that the GUND-BIT system was removed."
The GUND-BIT system has been removed.
The AI - Artemis stated.
In exchange my software was added in its place.
It - she told him.
"I see…" The Hound muttered. "Still, why were you installed on this Mobile Suit platform?"
I was installed to assist in piloting this Mobile Suit platform.
Artemis stated.
"How so?"
I will be regulating systems output to ensure the Mobile Suit remains in working order.
The Hound raised an eyebrow. "So~ what, you'll be regulating the reactor output and the internal cooling mechanisms to ensure I don't get cooked alive just piloting this thing?"
Among other things, yes.
"Give me an example."
As a pilot, I'm certain you are aware that in order to bring out the full potential of a Mobile Suits adjustments must be made to the software. This can be problematic when in a firefight or dealing with new terrain. My duty would be to perform those internal adjustments, and ensuring they are compatible with your reflexes and response time.
"So if the Mobile Suit is to slow in responding…"
I will make adjustments to ensure a faster reaction time. Likewise if the Mobile Suit is overly responsive to your commands as the pilot and moving at a pace difficult for you, the pilot to keep up with, I will make adjustments to make the Mobile Suit less sensitive and easier to pilot.
"I see." The Hound muttered. "An AI that automatically adjusts the Mobile Suits Operating System… that's…" New? No, it wasn't 'new', just the opposite to be honest; the concept behind this was ancient. If he had to guess, it first came into play when the first Mobile Suits were created, making sure the Pilot was able to properly control their unit without it tipping it over or locking up. Hell, when he started out he'd used a near identical system to help him learn the ropes. But like many he'd adjusted and had the system removed. So yeah, this wasn't a new system, still… "What else can you do?" He asked. "You're not the first AI to do that. It's very old technology, so what makes you stand out?"
Unique?
If the AI had a face it would be stuck in a thinking pose.
I do not believe I am unique. All my systems are nearly identical to all others.
"You just said nearly." The Hound noted. "So there's something different about your software."
Yes, my software may be considered the latest iteration of Onboard AI assistance. At least the latest to come out of the Agnus Company.
Artemis stated.
I support and adjust the Mobile Suit controls for the pilot, I assist in Active Mass Balance Auto-Control, perform ECM countermeasures, and assist my Pilot in combat should the need arise.
"What was that last part?" The Hound asked. "You can assist me in combat?"
Yes. I can check your targets and offer firing solutions. In addition I can also take control over any equipped remote weapons and utilize them through the use of a quantum communications network and assist the pilot with combatting multiple opponents at once.
"You can control 'Bit' weapons?"
Should they be equipped, yes. I can compensate for any shortcoming in my pilot's spatial awareness and coordination abilities.
"Hm…" The Hound made a noise. "An AI controlling remote weapons…" Again, that wasn't a new concept; Bits, Funnels, Dragoons, call em what you will, they were hard - near impossible to control. You didn't just need an insane degree of spatial awareness to just use, you needed to be able to actively control them all while piloting your craft. Unlike in the old shows, it wasn't something you could do with 'quantum brainwaves' or something along those lines. Pilots either needed a copilot who focused solely on controlling the Bits, or preferably an AI to handle all the complex controls. Still, an AI that could pull do that was rare; you needed a high grade AI to pull that off. "And we have oner right here apparently…" The Hound muttered, as he seemed to think. "No wonder it already has a Pilot Identification System added… if this thing was taken by someone who wasn't with Agnus…" He paused at that though. "Wait~" He muttered as he looked at the audio only screen before turning his attention to the camera. "What if someone affiliated with the Agnus Company cut a deal?"
Pardon?
"Sorry, but I have a question for you." The Hound muttered as he made a gesture. "What if someone managed to get past the Pilot Identification phase of the start up and was allowed to pilot this Mobile Suit? What if that person was making a break for it, intent on stealing this machine and you with it so that you might be used by another company or something along those lines?" He asked. "Is there a failsafe for that?" He asked.
Of course, in order to preserve the secrets hidden within my software I can revoke the pilots control and take over all Mobile Suit functions, allowing me to safely return to the Agnus Company.
"You can control the mobile suit if you have to." That made sense, that kept people from turning on Agnus and making off with both the Mobile Suit and the AI software. Still… "Is it possible for you to do that in combat situations?"
If you mean by taking over the Mobile Suit and conducting combat on my own, then yes. I have the ability to function as an autonomous unit, should the need arise, such as the pilot losing consciousness.
The Hound didn't say anything for a bit, just cupping his chin as he seemed to think. "Fuck~" He muttered. "You're one crazy piece of software." He noted as he seemed to stare off into space. "Automatic tuning, remote weapon system compatibility, and capable of autonomous control." He muttered. "And I feel like there's even more to you."
To a degree.
Artemis wasn't denying his statement.
As a prototype I can not guarantee that all my systems work properly - if at all, but I can ensure that I will assist my pilot while ensuring that Agnus' secrets are maintained.
"That's fine…" The hound muttered as he moved his hand and waved it. "I have no interest in stealing Agnus' secrets, and having someone watch my back during the upcoming training exercise would be nice." He stated as he reached for the manual and opened it. "Here's hoping we get through this unscathed."
Yes. I am in your hands. Please take care of me.
The hound seemed to pause at the words before taking a breath. "I won't make any promises I probably can't keep."
As ordered, the Hound had the Mobile Suit leaving the hanger in thirty, and it was presented to the city that would act as its testing grounds. The city itself was banged and bruised up, full of bullet wounds and a few half melted holes and small trenches. That wasn't all the optical cameras showed him though. There were deserted cars lying everywhere, some of them pressed into the pavement, likely crushed by a previously deployed mobile suit.
Outside of that, this place was quiet.
There wasn't a soul in sight, only as shadows burned into the brickwork reminders of who had been lost here.
Men and women, grandparents and children alike were just standing there, caught mid motion and still looking out at the world.
Alright, dog, time to start the combat exercise.
A male voice said over coms.
Dog?
Begin!
Before the Hound could blink the ground around his Mobile Suit ended up exploding into a hail of debris and smoke.
Your targets have been fitted with live ammunition. If you don't want to die you'll destroy all of them, understood?
"Understood." The Hound replied as he took off.
To his annoyance, he already finds a fault in the Gundvölva; it's not slow - it's movements aren't sluggish; it's the opposite, it's responsive, too responsive. He's barely messed with the controls and its practically flying across the testing grounds. It involves slamming an iron foot into the cement and digging a small trench into the ground that allows it to stop before moving again as more rounds get fired at it. For a brief moment he hits the thrusters and an instant later the Gundvölva is tearing apart the streets as it moves. "Overshot…" He mutters to himself.
Again, it's so damn responsive. He'd made adjustments to countless machines he'd piloted over the years, tuned them to be as close to perfect as he could so he'd be able to properly pilot them. Normally they'd be a bit too slow till he made those adjustments. This thing however, the Gundvölva was too damn fast.
It was obedient, the pilot wanted it to do something, it did it without hesitation, just faster than what was expected of it.
'That means… the fault isn't with the Gundvölva, it's me.'
I'll begin collecting data to make adjustments to pilot controls.
Artemis said as the hound frowned.
"Don't." The Hound stated. "The Gundvölva is fine as it is." He told the AI.
Pilot?
I'm the one who needs to adjust to this machine, not the other way around.
The hound's voice came over comms as the big brains on the sidelines were busy collecting data from their command center.
"What is that dog thinking?" One of the men muttered as they watched the live feed through a series of strategically placed cameras. "He could just let the AI do the adjustments so he can pilot that thing properly." Handler Torchwood just lit a cigarette as he gave himself some space. Some of the guys here didn't like the smoke, so he'd respect their preferences and give them some room to safely do their work.
"He'll be fine, the Handler muttered. He knows what he's doing."
"Does he?" One of the others muttered. "Cause to me it looks like he's playing it by ear."
"He's getting a feel for the Mobile Suit." The Handler stated. "The manual can only help him so much, he has to put the work in if he wants to be able to pilot it right."
"But the AI can help, it's designed to help with the adjustments to the Mobile Suit."
"You're right of course." The Handler muttered. "But it's as he says, the one who needs to adjust is him." The man muttered. "Have you ever pilotted a Mobile Suit?" He asked.
"No."
"I figured as much. That's why you don't know."
"Know what?"
"A pilot's duty." He muttered as he took another smoke. "The moment a pilot gets in a suit, it becomes their duty to bring out it's full potential." He stated as he looked down at his cigarette. "He can't do that if he's forcing the machine to drop down to his level." The Handler stated as he took another smoke. "He has to be the one to step up his game." He stated as another person looked at him.
"You sure he can do it?"
"I wouldn't have chosen him as our test pilot otherwise."
'Breathe…' The Hound did just that as he continued to move, dodging tank fire as he raced across the battlefield. 'Focus…' He tapped a button and the thrusters were sending him flying across the grounds. 'The Gundvölva… isn't fighting me, it's doing everything I want it to. It's as obedient as a machine could get.' He told himself as he tilted the controls and the machine made an abrupt turn and started grinding against a series of buildings and sending glass and chunks of brick flying. "Nh…"
He tilted the controls again and the machine pulled away and continued its flight.
Pilot, you are leaving the testing area.
The machine slammed a foot into the ground as it turned, stopping it's flight as it tore apart a chunk of the street.
'I need to get a grasp of the responsiveness without having to pull back. I can't second guess myself on what I want done…' A round slammed into the ground next to him as he ignored it and breathed. "And to do that… I need to stop thinking about this as a training exercise…"
Pilot, target's inbound.
Another round slammed into a spot next to him as he breathed. "This isn't a training exercise, this is a real battlefield." He told himself as he opened his eyes and had the Mobile suit hunch forward for second. "And that's where a pilot lives." The Gundvölva took off, the machine charging ahead as he saw another round being fired. He adjusted the controls and the Gundvölva dodged, letting the round zip by its head before it crashed into the ground. As for the Gundvölva, it didn't crash into the nearby building, instead righting itself as it continued charging forward. Another round was dodged as the Gundvölva took down another street.
Pilot, your reaction time has improved.
"I told you, I'm the one who needed to adjust." He muttered as he checked the menu. "What are the available weapon systems?"
[Armaments]
[Beam Saber]
[Beam Rifle]
[Shield]
"Simple equipment huh." The Hound muttered as he pulled out the beam rifle. "It'll work though."
Pilot, understand that this unit is still in testing mode, as such limiters are in place that reduce energy output by thirty 30%.
"That's fine." The Hound muttered as he glanced at the radar to see that two of his designated targets were closing in. Without warning he had the Gundvölva jump onto one of the buildings and used its thrusters to help it start running across the buildings as it damaged the roofs. Another boosted jump at the beam rifle was pointed downward and at the tank beneath it. It fired and tore a hole through the tank, stopping the machine dead in its tracks as the Gundvölva turned and activated its boosters to stop it from colliding with the nearest building. It kicked off the wall a second later as it propelled itself towards the opposite wall and a tank shell slammed into the building across from it, and tore out parts of the brickwork and the Gundvölva just charged forward, kicking off the building one last time as it propelled itself forward and closed in on the tank. The pilot had the shield pointed forward as it stabbed downward to crush part of the tank and cause it to almost flip straight up.
Good thing the targets are automated…
Artemis muttered.
You knew that, correct?
The hound didn't respond as he kept moving, racing across the training grounds as he continued taking out the targets.
"Incredible." One of the workers muttered as they watched the data being presented through the feed. "This… this is better than we expected. With this much data we should be able to fine tune the Operating System easily." The handler just looked at his spent cigarette and made a face before dropping it
"A machine is only as good as it's pilot." The Handler stated. "If the pilot is lacking, than the machine will follow suit."
"You're pilot…" a man muttered. "Your hound." He corrected himself. "Is he one of those?"
"You mean a 'Coordinator'." He rolled his eyes. "Or perhaps you mean a 'Newtype'." the Handler muttered. "No, he's neither, he's not even 'Boosted'."
"You're saying he's Natural." The man muttered. "A natural shouldn't be able to pilot as well as he does with a new machine, let alone one he refuses to have tuned to his reaction time."
"Is that what you believe?" The Handler made an almost humored noise. "If that is the case you know nothing about pilots." The man stated as he crushed his cigarette under his heel. "What separates an Ace from a Rookie is something simple; it's not the amount of kills you have under your belt, nor is it having the most advanced mobile suit out there. It's skill, plain and simple." He glanced at the man across from him. "Skills you probably never developed."
"Excuse you?" The handler just looked back at the live feed.
"Just watch, and maybe you'll learn something."
It's getting easier.
It feels like it was only an hour ago that it took almost everything he had to keep the Gundvölva under control. Keep it from overstepping, keep it from exaggerating what movements he had in mind.
It was getting easier.
Like every Mobile Suit he'd piloted up to this point, the Gundvölva started to move as an extension of himself. The arms were his own, the legs were his own, and so on. Another target dropped as he pressed forward, this time drawing the beam saber as he headed towards the next group and dodged tank shells.
What changed; what got him in the swing of things; instinct, skill, luck, some combination of the three or something else altogether?
Skills?
He knew his skills played a huge part; the machines he had piloted throughout the years had given him the understanding of exactly what kind of beast he was in control of. It helped him adjust to the machine as quickly as he could without needing it to be tailored to him.
Instinct?
He knew his instincts played a part too, they always flared up when he realized he was in a life or death situation. They helped him make those split second decisions without second guessing himself.
Luck?
Luck also played a part, how much though was beyond him. He was lucky that certain targets didn't fire upon him before he could register their presence. He'd been lucky that he machine he was piloting was so accepting and easy to adjust to…
"Artemis." He muttered. "Are you making adjustments to the OS?" He asked, despite what he had aid earlier. He had to be sure.
Yes pilot… it was quickly becoming a necessity.
"I see. So I'm still lacking." He bisected a tank before racing towards the last target.
Just the opposite pilot.
Artemis stated.
Your control has become much smoother than before and your reaction time has drastically improved. I've had to make adjustments to the OS so that the Gundvölva can keep up with you.
The last target fell the Mobile suit standing over it as its beam saber burned with a bright blue light.
All Targets have been destroyed. Training Exercise completed.
"So… how was it?" The Handler asked as he looked at his Hound, as they removed their helmet. "What are your thoughts?"
"It's a good machine." The Hound admitted. "Very responsive, and that was before the adjustments were made on the Ai's part."
"I thought you told it not to make adjustments."
"I did." The Hound muttered as he looked up at the now sleeping machine. "Did it anyway because I started out pacing the machine."
"I see." The Handler muttered as he looked at the machine. "I'm not surprised, that's your specialty after all."
Specialty? That's probably not the right word. There was nothing special about the Hound. Anything he could do in a mobile suit, so could anyone else. What his Handler meant though was he was 'quick to adapt' so long as he was being forced into a tough situation. It wasn't his 'special skill' or anything like that, anyone forced in a do or die situation could do it. Still, his handler called it his 'Specialty', not entirely sure why, mean the desire to 'not die' was ingrained into everyone.
It wasn't like having enhanced spatial awareness or absurd reflexes; it wasn't something given to a select few.
"Anyway, since my task is done…" The Hound muttered as his Handler glanced elsewhere. "Are we done here?" He asked the others. "If so we'll take our pay and leave."
"If that's the case, we'll wire the money directly to your account." A man stated as he looked at the Handler who nodded. "It was an… experience."
"Indeed it was." An older voice called out as the two men looked to the side to find someone else walking up to them.
"Mr. President." The president of Agnus just raised an arm and made a noise. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see how well our prototype OS system worked for myself, so I decided to drop by." The President of Agnus stated. "And I have to say, I'm impressed, we'll make good use of the combat data you provided us with."
"We're happy to be of help." The Handler stated. "Feel free to contact us next time you have another job lined up."
"Then it's a good thing I'm here." The president stated. "I have something already lined up for you."
"Then by all means." The Handler began. "You have my ear."
Note
I'm going to be honest, I don't really know where I'm going to go with this. I just needed to get this out before I for got about this. Either way I hope you enjoy it.