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Chapter 22: Mission: Save Alexander! Part 1
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It took everyone jumping on A2 to stop her from going on a rampage. Literally.
9S and Sebastian dove for her legs, Hatchet and Emil went for her waist, POD 153 rushed over and placed its 'hands' over her eyes, 2B grabbed the A-type's sword arm, and Jaqueline pinned her other arm down so she couldn't use that to punch or reach for another weapon.
Even then, she struggled hard to free herself from her companion's grasp.
"Let! Me! GO!" she shouted, starting to glow red.
"Shit, Berserker State!" 9S swore furiously.
"A2, stop! This won't help Alexander!" Jaqueline cried out.
"But, the Bunker…"
"Is his only hope! If you damage it, then you'll be damning him to a slow, painful death!" Jaqueline explained angrily. "Attacking the Bunker will not help anything at all!"
Logic eventually managed to pierce her haze of battle lust, and A2 released her Berserker mode and lowered her arm, dismissing the blade.
"What do we do, then?" she demanded. "If we cannot attack directly, how can we get the Commander's attention?"
"Yeah, she's blocked all of our calls," 9S stated. "2B and I can't contact the Bunker to ask for a parlay or anything, not since they black listed us and declared us fugitives. And none of the Resistance androids have a high enough clearance to ask for a direct communication link to her on such short notice, not even Anemone!"
"That is where you're wrong," Jaqueline said. "Or did you forget I used to know Whitey before she became the Commander? I happen to have her old personal communication ident, meaning I have a way to send her a message only she will receive."
"Will that work?" 2B inquired, folding her arms. "It's been many years since you two spoke. She could have changed her ID, or contact data since becoming Comamnder."
"Maybe, but odds are she hasn't. After all, this is a direct line, and I mean direct. It's connected to her very Black Box. So even if she's changed bodies or upgraded her systems, this contact ident will locate her and ping her no matter where she is or how she's changed physically."
At that, the trio of YoRHa androids shared a look and nodded slowly. Black Boxes were the core of an android. It contained their 'soul,' for lack of a better term. It was where their personality and emotional data was stored, and it existed in a metaphysical state. Even if it was extracted and 'destroyed' as a suicide attack, the contents of the Black Box would still exist on the Bunker's Cloud System, being able to be reuploaded to a new android body in the event of 'death.' This tended to result in memory loss, and more than once the Commander would 'brainwash' YoRHa agents by tampering with their sealed Black Box data, but the core contents remained, inviolable to any changes. It was why 9S always had the same personality, curiosity, and attraction to 2B despite repeated mindwipes.
"That might actually work!" 9S exclaimed happily. "If it's linked to her Black Box, there's no way she can avoid receiving the message!"
He then frowned. "How are we going to send it to her, though? POD 153's blacklisted and can't contact any YoRHa units or systems."
"Actually, I have a plan for that as well. And A2, I think even you might like it," Jaqueline claimed. They all listened to the mad scientist's plan, and though there were some grumbles, in the end, it was decided to be the best course of action.
And A2's smile freaked everyone the fuck out.
"You ever wonder why we're here?" A Resistance android with a red bandana asked as she stood on the roof of a small outpost.
"All the time," a fellow Resistance android replied, though he had an orange bandana wrapped around his head.
"Sometimes I wonder what our purpose is. Did the humans really have a hand in our creation, or was it an accident of design and programming that gave us these appearances? And do we even have a right to resemble our primogenitors, now that they are all truly dead? Is it not blasphemy to make oneself into an idol? And what point is there, anymore? Fight the Machine Lifeforms for an eternity? And for what reward? To die? Drift endless on a sea of data and electric dreams? Keep fighting? These questions, man. They keep me up at night."
The red Resistance android stared at her partner with wide eyes and an open mouth.
"Um, actually, I meant, 'why are we here,' as in, why this particular base? All it has is a YoRHa vending machine terminal and nothing else of note! It's not even near any strategic locations, ours or the enemies!"
She gestured to the rest of the ramshackle building they were stationed at. "I mean, look at us! A handful of trained Resistance fighters, sent to guard a tiny piece of stupid tech they can barely use anymore, now that the satellite uplinks are down! It's ridiculous!"
"Oh," Orange said quietly, looking away with a cough of embarrassment.
"Where did all that philosophical stuff come from?" Red asked.
"Nothing!"
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"Will you two love birds keep it down?! Some of us are trying to destroy all evil!" A deafening 'BOOM!' shakes the outpost. "HA! Yeah, take that, Machine! Taste the wrath of my rocket launcher-shotgun!"
"I still can't believe Sarge managed to weld those two weapons together and get them to work!" Orange uttered in disbelief.
"I can't believe you have such deep thoughts. Come on, talk to me!" Red replied. Before Orange or Sarge could speak, however, a scream of utter terror filled the base.
"Ugh! What is it now, Pinkie?" Red asked with a sigh, glaring over her shoulder at a fellow android with a pink colored headband who slammed the front door to the base shut, panting heavily. "Burn another batch of cookies?"
"We're under atta-gurk!" the android began, only to be cut off as a hand burst through the solid metal door and wrapped itself around his throat. The door was then tore off its hinges, and a terrifying figure appeared.
"Hello, I'm here to fuck up your base!" the grinning monster announced.
"Holy shi-!" was all Orange managed to utter, before the door that had been ripped from its hinge was torn off of the invader's arm and hurled up at the observing duo. It smashed into Orange, sending him sprawling, while Red leapt aside, pulling up an assault rifle.
"Put down the idiot!" Red shouted, as Pinkie was still being held aloft by the throat.
"Sure." The attacker swung her arm and sent the android in her grasp flying into Red, knocking them both down.
"Violent much, A2?" 9S asked, stepping into the base behind the A-type.
"I'm just getting warmed up!" she declared, cracking her knuckles menacingly.
"Hey! No one is allowed to use my men and woman as shotputs but me!" a gruff voice called out, and a Resistance android with a strange weapon and dark red bandana growled out as he emerged from a side door into the small courtyard of the base.
He pointed the weapon at them at let lose a volley of rockets. A2 tensed, a feral grin on her face, but 9S raised a hand behind her and hijacked the missiles, turning them around onto the android.
"Whoa there!" Sarge cried out as they exploded around him, sending him flying.
"Haven't had a chance to use that technique since that Goliath battle at the factory," the S-type mused. "Man, it feels like forever!"
"Don't interfere!" A2 growled at 9S, who stepped back, hands held up in surrender.
"Okay, okay!" he said. "Go have fun! But don't kill them, remember?"
"I know the plan," the Assault unit declared before dodging a spray of bullets.
"Eat this!" Orange shouted out, having recovered from his door related injury and now hosing the area with the invaders with gunfire.
The shells did little damage to A2 when they connected, and she was able to avoid most of the shots easily thanks to her superior reflexes. She rushed at the Resistance android, running up the wall to reach his perch, before delivering a vicious roundhouse kick that sent him flying off the edge of the roof.
"Take this, you bitch!" Red cried, pushing Pinkie off of her body and firing her own gun. A2 hooked her foot under the crumpled remains of the door and kicked it upwards, using it as a shield to block the hail of bullets.
The A-type then kicked the door while it was in midair, and sent it towards Red. The Resistance gynoid dove to the side to evade the projectile, but Pinkie, who had just staggered to his feet, was not so lucky, and was hit by the chunk of metal and sent tumbling off the roof, landing on Orange as he tried to get back up.
"Two down, two to go," A2 smirked at Red before charging forward. She drove a fist into the other woman's stomach, and then stomped her on the back, driving her through the roof.
"Three down," the A-type muttered smugly, before backflipping to avoid a rocket. It exploded violently, tearing a portion of the roof off, and A2 glared at the rocket launcher wielding android, who glared back.
"Taste the wrath of my Rocket-Gun!" he roared, unleashing a hail of buckshot at the invader. She jumped aside, and then jumped off the building.
Sarge continued to fire at her, but she materialized her Faith blade and cut the rockets apart and deflected the bullets. She delivered a brutal dropkick to the Resistance android's head as she landed, a loud 'Crunch!' echoing through the base. He fell, a foot-shaped dent in his head.
"SARGE!" the three defenders cried out from their various piles. They let out sighs of relief when their leader staggered back to his feet.
"HA! It'll take more than that to put me down!" Sarge declared, though he looked extremely comical with his misshapen head.
"Okay, then," A2 said with a shrug. She dismissed her blade and began to pummel the android with her fists.
"ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA ORAAA!" she roared, her final punch sending him flipping through the air. He landed in heap, twitching in pain.
"That was rather fun. Cathartic, too," A2 declared, dusting her hands off. She then placed them on her hips and glared over her shoulder. "9S, you done yet?"
The shota-bot emerged from the base's interior and gave her a thumbs up.
"Yup! Message sent to the Bunker via the Terminal!"
"Good. Let's get out of here," she declared, and she left the base, steps cocky and a swing in her hips. 9S followed behind a lot less sensually.
"Damn, that's a fine ass!" Orange uttered once he was sure A2 was out of hearing range.
"He did have a cute butt," Pinkie agreed, eyes lingering on the Scout unit's backside. Orange shot the pink bandana-wearing android a funny look before scooting away from his comrade.
"So, you're telling me A2 and 9S assaulted your base, and didn't kill any of you?" Commander White demanded incredulously, arms folded as she received a report from some backwater Resistance base whose only value was the intact Terminal it possessed.
"Err, yes, ma'am, that's correct," Sarge said nervously. "Kicked our asses and then left after saying something about a message and the Bunker!"
It had been several hours since the attack in question, and only now was the Bunker learning about the attack perpetrated by two of YoRHa's most wanted. The reason for the delay was due to no one believing the base's report. A2 leaving survivors? Not likely! Only when Sarge sent over video footage taken from the base's camera's did YoRHa accept what was being reported as true.
"And you don't know what sort of message they sent to us?" White asked, as confused as everyone else. She just hid it better. The Resistance android shook his head rapidly.
"No, ma'am! Shortstack just said the message had been sent to the Bunker! Then they left!"
White frowned deeply. No new messages had come into the Bunker from the outpost. At least, not to the general mail system. It was possible a personal message had been sent to an android within the Bunker, but the only YoRHa units that had any major connection to the wanted criminals were 6O and 21O, and neither Operator had received any personal communications. White knew, she'd checked personally.
"Fine. Keep up the good work, and report back if anything else unusual happens in the future," White ordered, before terminating the call.
"Err, ma'am, should we release 6O and 21O from their rooms, now?" an Operator asked. The pair had been confined to 'house arrest' when it was learned 9S had sent a message to the Bunker. They'd been cleared of charges now, but were still not allowed to leave their rooms.
"No," White said after a moment of thought. "Keep them locked up for now. 9S may have sent a time-delayed message, or hidden something in the systems only they could find. Until we've scrubbed the Bunker's incoming mail, they are not allowed to leave."
"Yes, ma'am," the Operator who'd spoken up said stiffly, and more than a few O-types were frowning behind their veils.
6O was a cute and innocent snowflake, and 21O had the best naughty humor out of all of them. They both were valued members of the YoRHa Mission Control team. The other Operators might not have had any combat training or defense skills, but they looked after their own the best they could. And the Commander's treatment of two innocent androids was not sitting well with them.
Sensing the hostility, White frowned, but said nothing. She couldn't afford to let her control slip. She'd have to do something about this matter. And soon.
"I'm returning to my room to rest," White declared, striding over to the elevator platform and stepping onto it. "Keep me up to date with any new information on this matter."
She then walked out of the Command Center and through the halls of the Bunker. YoRHa androids scurried out of her way as she passed, and she rode the elevator-tube to the floor where her room was located.
This floor was no different from any other residential level of the Bunker. The only main thing of note would be the numbers on the doors.
A1… A2… A3… 1E… 3E… 9E… Floor 13 was the residential block for the elite YoRHa units. The now defunct Assault types, the hidden Executioner models, and of course, the discontinued Commander units.
The hallway was as stark and sterile as the rest of the Bunker, but it lacked even the tiniest glint of liveliness. Compared to the other floors, this entire level was barren and dead.
After all, there was only one A-type and C-type left, and the E-types were often undercover posing as other unit types, so they stayed in the living quarters of their fake callsign.
In the end, Commander White was the sole inhabitant of the 13th floor.
She entered her room without a word or thought to the emptiness around her. She was used to the loneliness after all these years. Her tiny, featureless domicile was exactly the same as every other personal room in the Bunker. Small, cramped, a single bed, with a stool and terminal interface console near the entrance. She had no window on her wall, though.
White sat down gracefully on the bed. Even in private she was composed and calm. She began to go through breathing and meditation techniques. She had discovered them a long time ago, before she'd promoted herself to YoRHa's supreme leader. Despite being an android and not having lungs or a need to breath, she still practiced. It helped her control herself.
A blinking red light caught her eye in the middle of her routine, and she frowned. Why was her console blinking?
She rose from her bed and approached the mini-terminal, tapping it. Her eyes widened and she cursed softly.
"So, this is where 9S's message was sent," she muttered. She opened the email he'd sent her, and her frown deepened into a scowl. It was a simple thing, with only a few lines of text, map coordinates, and a half-dozen picture files.
But the contents were enough to cause even her legendary aloofness to come crashing down.
'BANG!' her fist dented the wall above the console. Trembling with fury and a flurry of other emotions she couldn't decipher, she deleted the message and its attachments, scrubbing them from the Bunker's mainframe completely. She then checked the digital clock on the console.
She typed in a few commands before broadcasting a message to the entire Bunker.
"6O, 21O, This is Commander White. Report to the hanger immediately. I repeat, 6O, 21O, report to the hanger immediately." She then exited her room and with hastened steps, rode the elevator-tube down to the Jetframe hanger.
"I need a Flight Unit. Now," she ordered the technicians.
"You? You want a Flight Unit?" 4T asked, shocked.
White's glare fell onto her, and she trembled. "Did I stutter? Or are your audio processors damaged?"
"No, ma'am! One Flight Unit, ma'am!" she shouted, saluting. "And, err, do you want a pair for 6O and 21O?"
"No," White stated sharply, and 4T looked helplessly at her coworkers before scrambling to complete the Commander's request.
By the time the two Operators had arrived, Commander White was enthroned in one of the high-tech mecha-jet.
"You called for us, Commander?" 21O asked politely, while 6O trembled slightly in fear at her friend's side.
"Indeed. We're going for a ride."
"Wait, what?" 21O uttered, confused. Mechanical arms lashed out and they were suddenly found being held immobile in the grasp of the Flight Unit's robotic limbs.
Gasps rang through the hanger, but White silenced them all with a single look.
"You two get to be collateral and hostages for a meeting I have to attend soon."
"With who?" 6O stammered out. Who on Earth would care about the two of them enough that the Commander would use them as hostages?
"A2, 2B, 9S, and a traitorous bitch I should have killed long ago," White uttered, venom in her voice.
"Um, who would that last person be?" 6O asked hesitantly.
"My ex," White hissed, pure rage and vitriol in every syllable.
The two Operators barely had time to process that before they were suddenly zooming out of the hanger, still trapped in the Flight Unit's grasp. They didn't even have a chance to scream due to the air pressure and wind whipping at their faces as they suddenly found themselves leaving the Bunker for the first time in their entire lives.
It would have been awe-inspiring if they'd had a chance to admire the scenery and not have to worry about being dropped by an irate Commander.