Earlier that morning, around the time that MP40 and G43 were preparing to embark on their doomed prisoner transport, Kar98k was sitting in her office with a fresh cup of tea. There had been very little in the way of major operations for them to set out for, especially with so much of the Brigade dealing with personal duties. It was nice to have some time off to kick her feet onto her desk and soak up the morning, enjoying a cup of tea before taking a morning shower. It was a lazy day and she was going to enjoy it, with both Peter and MP40 out running their own small scale missions. Peter, of course, wouldn't tell her why he needed to bring StG44 with him for State Sec business, but she also didn't care. He had earned enough of her trust to entrust her troops to him.
This, however, was not a day for business or paperwork. There was nothing to sign, no reports to read or write, and certainly nobody to bother her in the middle of enjoying her morning. Breathing in the sweet smell of her day, Kar98k smiled as she brought the tea to her lips. In fact, she was so relaxed and caught up in the slowness of the moment that she nearly fell out of her chair as her office door opened. In the middle of sipping her tea, she gagged on the drink as she sat back up and planted her feet back on the ground. Coughing and spilling tea down the front of her bathrobe, she reached for a napkin she had sitting on her desk for just this occasion. "Son of a bitch!" She swore, wiping the spill off of her chest.
Fredrick, who had so kindly barged into her office unannounced, was carrying with him a couple of tools and a piece of paper. "Put some clothes on and come down to the cafeteria," he waved his paper around as he spoke, "I need some help moving tables around."
Kar98k glared at him as she wiped the tea off of herself. "This couldn't wait?"
He shook his head. "Nope, delivery is for later today."
"Have you and P38 been making requisition orders without my approval?" When it came to their allotted budget, anything that wasn't spent would result in a lower overall budget. Typically, Kar98k permitted frivolous purchases and acquisitions entirely to soak up the dead weight in their monthly budget, keeping a status quo just in case they actually needed it. Despite her relaxed approach to many of these purchases, she still preferred to be aware of when they were made.
Fredrick shrugged, not seeing an issue. "I wanted to keep it a secret from the Captain."
Kar98k sighed, coming to terms with the new direction her day was going to end up going. Rising from her chair, she slapped her hands on her desk in resignation to the new plans for her morning. "I guess I'll change into something more convenient."
"We're moving furniture, sweetheart, not going to the school dance," Fredrick turned to peruse her bookcase, "just throw some clothes on and hurry up."
Stopping in the doorway to her attached bedroom, Kar98k placed a hand on the frame and looked back at him. He was looking through her collection, he seemed to be looking without reading. With a sigh, she realized he was merely pretending to be interested in something else. Shaking her head, she entered her bedroom and picked out her uniform. She decided to at least go without her dress coat and hat, maintaining her lazy day to some degree. Her decision to wear slippers instead of boots came when she heard Fredrick giggling to himself over something in her office. Poking her head out, Kar98k found his nose deep in the one book on her shelf she didn't want anyone else to notice. The trashy romance novel had a name incredibly similar to the historical and biographical pieces, but the pages she had dog eared were nothing more than overemotional smut. "Who the hell wrote this crap?" Fredrick laughed as he looked up from the book.
Face flushed, Kar98k grabbed the book and angrily sorted it back into her bookcase. "It's an adorable story," she defended her choice in personal entertainment, "and it has a deep and relatable character struggle."
Fredrick laughed even harder. "They used the most flowery language for some of the most unclean things I've ever seen in a story. Clearly whoever wrote this trash has no idea how filthy and messy a one night stand in the back seat of a car can really be."
Head held high, Kar98k was determined to defend her book. "That may be so, but for those of us who lack creature comfort in such experiences it is nice to dream." She made sure to add a tone of accusation to her voice, making sure that he understood what she was saying. If he wasn't going to open up to her like she knew he wanted to, then she was going to have to play games with him too.
Fredrick simply rolled his eyes and tried to avoid the verbal jab. "You can dream all you want when we're done in the cafeteria, come on."
Grabbing her wrist, Fredrick tugged Kar98k into the hallway. While she didn't try to fight back, she at least would appreciate a few more key details. "Why exactly do we need to rearrange our cafeteria?" Kar98k was quite content with how things were laid out, especially if they ever decided to entertain guests anytime soon.
"You know how the Captain has been clamoring for a piano lately?" He didn't need to explain further, his statement telling Kar98k everything that she needed to know. MP40 had been pushing herself quite a bit lately, and seldom asked for anything in return. It was about time for her to get something out of all of the hard work she had done.
The two of them were greeted in the cafeteria by Angel and Dr. Adams, who were eating breakfast as the start to their day. Fredrick was temporarily distracted by their food, focusing on the contents of the meal. "You poor kid," he tutted, "what is this American pig feeding you?"
Adams frowned at the comment. He didn't seem too happy to once again be insulted by Fredrick, having been poked and prodded enough over the weeks that he's been working with Angel. "It's called a country fried steak."
"Leave it to an American to take our world's limited resources and fry it." Fredrick smiled as he shook his head.
"It's better than that bile you call coffee." Adams snapped back.
"The second thing I learned in the army," Fredrick bristled, "was to drink my coffee black."
Kar98k pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling embarrassed for him. "He's referring to the fact that your coffee is half vodka, Dear."
Fredrick stood proudly at that statement. "And that was the first thing I learned from the army."
Angel, who had been happily eating her meal, silently ignored the argument and used the distraction to steal food from Adams' plate. Kar98k couldn't help but stifle a giggle at the action, choosing to allow it to happen while the humans bickered like children over who came from the most evil nation. Leaning against one of the tables, she looked around to try and figure out where the best place in the cafeteria would be for a piano. One side of the cafeteria was almost all glass door and window panels, allowing a large amount of natural light to fill the room during the day. During the summer, it also provided a perfect view of the sunset over the trees and distant hills. A view like that would be almost perfect for a musician to play, as well as appear even more beautiful to an audience. With a nod, Kar98k decided that would be the best course of action.
The piano was a work of art. Beautiful and master crafted, every curve and corner on the instrument was assembled with care and love. Each key and string was top of the line, the inner works of the device assembled as a completely separate piece of art within. This was the kind of device that people would kill for, with not a single scratch or dent on it. Once the couple of tables were out of the way, the piano blended into its new home almost seamlessly. It was like it was always meant to be here.
Fredrick had decided as another show of good faith, he would tune the piano for MP40 so she could immediately start playing it the minute she returned. It was late at night when Kar98k decided to check on his progress, and he seemed to still be working hard. A large coffee pot sat nearby, accompanied by a bottle of his vile vodka. The man was wrapped up in looking up piano tuning tutorials on his work tablet as sat on the floor and idly played with the tools. "Do you have any idea how late it is?" Kar98k asked, tightening the rope on her now stained robe.
"Did you know they use piano wire as a fishing line to catch sharks?" Fredrick asked, non sequitur.
Kar98k shook her head and walked up behind him. Sitting on her knees behind him, she playfully grabbed his neck. "It's also good for strangling men who don't go to sleep at a reasonable hour." He flinched at her touch, but mostly out of trained military reaction. It only took him a split second to remember that she wasn't currently a threat.
"It's fine, I have coffee." He reached up to pull her hand off his neck, but paused for a moment when their hands touched. There was an internal struggle, but he was keeping it to himself. He wanted to be closer, but couldn't bring himself to commit to his feelings.
Kar98k peered over his shoulder to see what he was doing. "Your idea of coffee would be like if I drank used motor oil."
"P08 said she was going to do a helicopter oil change tomorrow."
Oddly enough, the sound of an approaching helicopter caught her attention. "We don't get much traffic this time of night." She mused. Neither C96 nor P08 needed to fly until tomorrow, and neither of them had left at all today.
Fredrick shrugged. "Must be Saint Peter returning Princess to where she belongs."
Standing up, Kar98k walked over to the cafeteria's windows and looked for the helicopter. It was hard to see at night, but it didn't seem like a bringer of good omens. She could just barely make out the official seal of Soviet State Security, concluding that Peter really was back with StG44. Before she could continue to ponder the situation, P38 burst into the cafeteria. She had apparently run here from her station in the command room. "Commandant," she huffed, "Agent Peter requests that you and Fredrick meet with him in the command room as soon as you are able."
Kar98k and Fredrick exchanged worrying glances. "What seems to be the issue?"
P38 glanced between the two of them, pausing for an unnecessary dramatic effect. "Something is wrong with the Captain."
Kar98k and Fredrick sat around the holographic table, watching as Peter stood in front of the wall mounted computers that were meant to be used for monitoring a team's active status. Currently, he had P38 showing information that Peter had prepared for this debriefing. He cleared his throat before he bangs to speak, considering where he was allowed to begin. "Recently," he started, "State Sec has been cleaning house within our military leadership."
"Yeah, Dad told me some spooks knocked on his door." Fredrick scoffed. "Something about the General that fucked Kryuger over."
Peter looked at Fredrick, not expecting him to interrupt. "We discovered that a few former rebellious souls have gone rogue and started gathering men and weapons, possibly planning a coup."
The prison photos of the man that MP40 and G43 were supposed to escort flashed on screen. "This man used to work for the former Captain Adelhard, but was arrested thanks to your efforts. He was being transferred as part of a plea deal, and was on his way to parole. Due to his status, your dolls were hired as a neutral party for security detail. One of our agents, and a good friend of mine, was undercover as their driver to oversee the success of the transfer."
"And were my girls aware of this?" Kar98k asked.
Peter shook his head. "We were only working on the notion that something may happen. Had we possessed more information to work with, we might have been able to prevent a disaster from happening."
"What he means, Sweetheart," Fredrick leaned over to Kar98k, pretending to whisper, "is that the girls were used as bait, but they got trapped instead."
"I did my best to try and ensure their safety," Peter defended himself and his actions, "but even I can't plan around my own men turning on us. The second checkpoint team had hired a gang of bikers to ambush them shortly after the first checkpoint. According to G43's report, they were forced into a crash and ended up on foot. My driver was killed before he could explain anything to them, or contact me."
"So the girls were operating on the belief that this was a simple logistics operation gone wrong." Kar98k crashed her arms, wondering where any of this was going.
Peter looked down, almost out of shame for what he was about to show them. The screen changed to show a seedy bar full of corpses and blood. A short battle had erupted, and seemed to be almost entirely one sided. "We believe that a combination of factors led to an error in Captain MP40's system, leading to her attacking and killing not just the bikers in retaliation, but several other individuals as well."
Fredrick scoffed as Kar98k stared in disbelief at the images of the carnage. Both were in disbelief, but she was the only one that couldn't muster any words. "The Captain would never slaughter people unless acted upon. These guys clearly did something to deserve it."
Peter was solemn and stoic, knowing the evidence already. He had combed it over and over again, trying to find any way to get the Captain out of trouble. Footage from a security camera played to clearly show MP40 attacking the people, completely unprompted. Fredrick's face dropped as he watched her even fire upon G43, before being disabled in return. Peter took a deep breath before he continued. "The prisoner was handed off to the traitor in my ranks, who used their knowledge of the plan to throw us off until G43 delivered a frantic distress call on an open radio. Had I not been present for this operation and this would have happened while she were by herself, the police would have arrived to arrest and have her euthanized."
"Euthanized?" Kar98k's voice trembled.
"They destroy the doll, and then I have to destroy her neural cloud backup." Fredrick explained, keeping his own voice low. There was no more scorn for the federal agent, only concern for the doll's future.
"I know what it means," Kar98k snapped at him, "but I would appreciate if we didn't talk about it like it's the same as putting down a fucking dog."
"I broke several laws making sure that she could be here with her friends and family, Commander." Peter gave her a piercing glare, upset that she didn't appreciate his gesture.
"This isn't even her fault!" Kar98k had her suspicions that this was clearly leftover meddling from when FG42 had been stealing away data about them for her betrayal. "All of our girls have some level of data corruption thanks to Paradeus."
Fredrick's muscled tighten as he jabbed his elbow into her side, signaling for her to stop talking. "What is she talking about?" Peter asked him.
Realizing that thanks to Kar98k running her mouth, the cat was out of the bag and it was time to remind Peter of just how deeply ingrained Paradeus was in the blood of the Brigade. "I believe that FG42 had been making copies or manipulating the girls' neural cloud data, resulting in errors in their thought patterns. For StG44, this resulted in her falling in love with a boy and blowing herself up to kill a Manticore. I recently learned that MP41 had been blackmailing a man as well."
"Do all of the girls have some degree of corruption?" Peter was dumbfounded that such vital information was kept from him, but it was at this point that Kar98k started to realize why. Fredrick slowly nodded, knowing that it was too late to lie now. "Do you know what this means?"
Fredrick gave an exasperated sigh, knowing full well what it meant. He had been hiding this information from official reports for some time, trying to keep the girls safe from any scrutiny. The punishment he would face for hiding this put him at risk for imprisonment. "The best case scenario is that we have to factory reset everyone," his voice was meek and lacking his signature confidence, "and I end up losing my job."
"And the worst case is to scuttle the entire base and throw you in prison." Peter leaned against the wall, unsure of where to go from here. "Even if I don't report this, it will come up in an investigation at some point."
"Then what are we supposed to do?" Kar98k stood up, frantically trying to think of a solution. She wouldn't just give up and let everyone die, not without a fight. "There has to be something to do!"
Fredrick stood up from his seat, head hung low in resignation. "It's my father's birthday," he muttered aloud, "I need to call him and let him know I'm about to be unemployed again."
Kar98k reached out for him, hoping he had some sort of solution. He shrugged her off of him, leaving the command center. Fredrick always knew what to say or what to do, and he never gave up. Even when the Nyto Addy had a knife to his throat he held his confidence, speaking down on those that threatened both of them. Whenever they had a problem he had an answer; what hope was there for them if he gave up?
Anger began to bubble up in Kar98k, but she couldn't release it. What was the point, everything was about to be over soon. "Commander," Peter tried to reach out to put a hand on her shoulder, "I'm so sorry."
Sister Lilith admired the broken glass door, letting the wind whip through her hair. Police tape had been wrapped across the break, signifying the boundary of the crime scene. She knew, however, that the crimes of Paradeus spread much further than just this broken hotel room. While her sisters no longer lurked about in this hole, it still reeked of their scent. While disgusted with the current state of this room, at least State Sec was kind enough to be ignorant to all of the tricks Paradeus employed to hide their secrets.
Turning away from the glass that her sister hurtled herself from, Lilith sat on the bloodstained couch to peruse a data pad. There wasn't much information left to steal, but there was enough for her to work off of. Now she was no longer starting from scratch, and could begin concocting plans. Regrettably, she was interrupted before she could begin playing with the toys that had been left behind. Sister Seraph, a lesser ranked black robed Nyto trained with a sniper rifle, stepped over the broken hotel room door and stood with her arms crossed behind her back. "We've run into a significant issue, sister."
"Have we been discovered?" Lilith looked up from the data pad.
Seraph shook her head. "There has been a concerning development pertaining to Angel's employment with Griffin."
An oppressive darkness loomed over MP40 as she lay in the maintenance bay, silence swirling around her. She had resigned to her fate, waiting for the punishment for her crimes. She was waiting to die, and wouldn't fight when it came for her. The pain came from the waiting; the sitting in a cheap paper gown for the headsman to arrive. Fredrick had wordlessly given her a quick patch, wrapping her shoulder in bandage and cleaning up her other scrapes. They had exchanged no words, the once cheery engineer having no time or reason to converse with a murderer. Death would come for her, and she was ready.
Light illuminated the room as the doors slid open, Angel gliding into the room like a specter. While not the Angel of Death that MP40 had been hoping for, there was no need to be picky at a time like this. Still, she laid on the maintenance bed and waited, not greeting the Nyto as she made her way through the darkness. What was the point in conversation when death was so close on the horizon? Angel approached to MP40's side, the gloomy dark making her white hair seem almost blue. She carried her scythe with her, a clear sign that she was there for guard duty. The Nyto approached silently, moving like the apex predator she was. If MP40 had to hazard a guess, Angel wasn't supposed to be talking to her.
Taking a seat on the maintenance bed next to her, Angel looked the doll over. After contemplating where to begin, she finally cleared her throat. "I am deeply, terribly sorry." She spoke, choking on her accent as she tried to sound sincere.
MP40 closed her eyes as she processed the apology. "Sorry for what," she asked, "you didn't kill those people."
"It was meddling from me and the Defiler that led to your defective nature." Angel looked down at the floor, as ashamed as a child that was caught breaking a window. In a way, she was at least tangentially involved in the incident; but that was irrelevant now.
"That doesn't bring those people back to life." MP40 covered her face with her hands, trying to hide from the faces.
"And nothing ever will." Angel whispered, remembering the people she had killed as well. In her time with Paradeus, she had slaughtered swaths of people and ordered the deaths of even more. Had the Commandant not given her a near fatal blow, she would have helped FG42 reduce an entire town to a radioactive crater. If anyone was plagued with memories, it would be her. "It doesn't get easier."
MP40 looked to Angel, pleading with her eyes. "How do you live with it?"
Angel was leaning in her seat, resting her arm on her knee as she also thought about things she had done. "Either you live with it, or you don't," Angel spoke slowly as she tried to put her thoughts into words, "it's like having a bad haircut or half your body replaced with machine parts."
The two exchanged a short moment of chuckling and levity before returning to their dour demeanor. MP40 stared back up at the ceiling, still waiting for her death to come. "I guess I won't have the choice to live with it for too long."
She felt Angel's mechanical hand grab her own. "Fredrick said he would speak to his father, the Admiral," she sounded hopeful, trying to cheer MP40 up, "if anyone can make this go away, it's him."
"Like anyone would lift a finger to help a murderous robot." MP40 scoffed.
It was silent for a moment before Angel spoke again. "I never expected any of you to save my life either." She muttered as she climbed from her seat. Angel silently left the room, letting MP40 stew on those words. They had no reason to have taken her in and trust her, but they did. MP40, and the Brigade in its entirety, now had to trust an old man to save their lives.
"If there's a God," MP40 whispered at the ceiling, "please have mercy."
