Chapter 9 Collared
"Long time no see, Walter. Looking good for a change." "Cinder" Carla commented over the connection. "I see you got a new augmented human. What happened to 617 and the rest?"
"Their jobs." Handler Walter answered grimly but pridefully. "They did what it took to get us here."
"…Huh." Carla hummed. "So how's the newcomer doing?"
"Adequately." Handler Walter noted. "But Gen-Four augmentation can be unstable. Let alone the Hound's…unpredictable temperament. We need to choose our battles. How's things on your end?"
"I found the data our 'friends' left behind. There's something promising in the Watchpoint." Carla declared. "Also, you've no doubt noticed the slew of Laconian relics now scattered across the continent."
"That ship was an unexpected variable. A hundred years on the float allowed them to slip past Sol's gaze. How unfortunate for them to have found Rubicon of all worlds."
"They're a troublesome little species of machine. Too stupid to know when they're screwed and too cowardly to do anything about it."
"You like them." Handler Walter accused.
"I like all machines, Walter. These ones just happen to have very…expressive…faces." Carla smiled sadly. "Which makes what I plan to do all the more difficult."
"What happened?" Handler Walter wondered.
"Do you really have to guess, Walter?" Carla scowled, angered at something that wasn't him. "They're humanoid enough in all the wrong ways and living in a 'verse that has no mercy for their kind…you can imagine the kind of crowd they draw."
"I understand." Handler Walter sighed. "What are you doing about it?"
"They aren't programmed or equipped for that kind of work. So I'm putting together a sort of…upgrade package…to make them properly prepared. A few too many are showing up traumatized or damaged by far too eager Dosers of the wrong variety to ignore. I never thought I'd get into this business, but it might save a few of them." There was shame and disgust in her voice, but Carla knew there was no one else on Rubicon willing to do this kind of work for that particular race of machine.
"Then we may have a problem." Handler Walter added, sending several files from his Hound's previous engagements. "There's a machine that we've encountered twice now that triggers an…undesired emotional response from my Hound."
"It's very cute." Clara smiled. "And that's a serious problem. It is in grave danger. If I see it in my territory, I'll try and pick it up. Otherwise…you should have ordered your Hound to capture it."
"I wasn't certain that was a good idea at the time. I don't want to push 621 too hard. Not yet anyway." Handler Walter sighed. "Now it seems…I should have."
"We're bastards, but we're not monsters. We can only do good where we can." Carla smiled. "I'll do what I can from my end. 'Till next time, Walter."
Independent Mercenary Hangars – Central Belius / Tiberius 20th
"…!" What the fuck was Walter doing? Why didn't she have a mission?
There was only so much maintenance she could do, only so many times she could take her guns apart and put them back together, only so much research she could do, before she was right back to thinking about that little machine.
That little machine that she had saved. That had saved her. That had spoken to her. That sounded so young, too young to survive on Rubicon…
Why the fuck did she leave it there? Rubicon was a terrible, frightening world, filled with so much death and strife. Especially for a little machine of her disposition. Cursed by design and labeled Laconian…
Fucking…fucking…fucking Laconians. Damn them all and their accursed designs. Even long after their world burned they wouldn't stop fucking with her. Fuck them all and damn them to hell.
And that…fucking little machine…that she couldn't stop thinking about…that was probably still on Rubicon…that couldn't even begin to imagine what this damned, cursed world had in store for them…
"…!" There was a message alert that signaled that her Handler was contacting her. Finally! Some work to get her mind off things.
"You've been neglecting a message sent to you, 621." Handler Walter chastised her.
/ONE NEW MESSAGE
/SENDER: V. IV Rusty
"Raven!" Rusty greeted excitedly. "How are things buddy? I'd like to catch up and trade old war stories, but there's something you should probably see first." He had forwarded another message, which began to play.
/ /SENDER: Kate Markson
/ /SUBJECT: AUCTION
"Greeting, fellow mercenaries and corporations. As you are all aware by now, last month saw the unprecedented arrival of a ship load of Laconian built Jenson model androids that have since become stranded on Rubicon. As a business consultant for the mercenary support network, ALLMIND, I come before you with a proposition. ALLMIND has developed a control device to efficiently manage and coerce these relics for whatever work a buyer might desire of them. ALLMIND is officially declaring a bounty for the capture of intact androids, which we will then equip with these control devices and put for sale in an auction, which all are welcome to join. We look forward to your participation in these future business endeavors. Thank you for your time, and remember: ALLMIND exists for all mercenaries."
/ /END OF MESSAGE
"I was looking over the catalog for the initial wave of available…products…and Raven, those two drones you saved on The Wall are on the listing." Rusty informed her, showing the two drones, the purple haired one, and the one she couldn't stop thinking about. "You and I both know what's going to happen to those little machines if the corporations…or worse…Coral Tweakers get their hands on them. I'll be there representing Arquebus. I suggest you liquidate what assets you can, and get there too. Hope to see you there, for better or worse."
/END OF MESSAGE
"…" It was a cold, fearful rage that overtook 621 then. Her hands shook at her side, shivering with uncertainty. A sudden powerlessness at watching something unfold and being unable to do anything about it. Just like…like…like…
"What do you want to do, 621?" Handler Walter questioned.
"…" This wasn't like before. There was still time to do something. To make this right. Who she was before would not hesitate to do right. She might no longer have that name, but she was still that woman of unbreaking resolve.
Her throat hurt from how little she used it, but did not hesitate to do as she needed.
"I need a loan, Handler Walter."
/HANDLER "ALLMIND": VERIFIED
/ACTIVATING CEREBRAL CORAL CONTROL DEVICE
That was a new line of code that was not supposed to be there. Uzi woke with a start as a burning sensation scorched her neck. Grabbing her throat in pain, she noticed her new accessory. A warm metal ring, tightly affixed to her neck. It was uncomfortable, so she tried to pry it off, but the harder she grasped it, the hotter and more unbearable it seemed to get.
"Gah!" Uzi let go of the ring, her hands and neck burning with discomfort. Seeing as that would be a new permanent fixture on her body, she tried to figure out where she was, and what was going on.
She was trapped in a small cage, with barely enough room for her to stand, in a large dark storage room. The next thing she noticed was the thrashing. The sound of some enraged animal trying desperately to break out and flinging itself against metal to do so.
That would be V, in the cage to her left.
"Wha-V! What happened?! Are you okay?!" Uzi questioned, hoping she knew more.
"Grr! Can't! Get! This freaking thing off!" V hissed, gripping at the ring on her neck. Seeing it on someone else, Uzi noticed the bright red light that emanated from the ring.
Seems they finally found enough Coral.
"V? What about your weapons?" Uzi wondered.
"They're locked."
Uzi turned around. In the second cage to her right was J, glaring at her while seated in a subdued and resigned position, hugging her legs.
"What do you mean they're locked?" Uzi questioned.
"Oh…well…" N, two cages to the right of J, answered. "When we try and activate our weapons…we get an error message saying something like 'higher functions locked by Coral Control Device.'"
Uzi could hear V panicking violently, still thrashing herself against the cage.
"H-Hey! Calm down V! We'll figure a way out…okay?" Uzi talked to her calmly. "H-Have you tried everything? Your wings or…or maybe some other function?"
"I've tried! Everything! No weapons! No wings! Tail is capped! I even tried eating the cage! But I can't! Get! Out!" V was slamming herself against the cage, still grabbing at the agonizingly hot ring on her neck. Uzi also noticed the metallic cap fitted over the end of her tail, preventing the larger drone from using her nanite acid tipped attachment.
"Hey! Hey! V! Look at me! Calm down and look at me." Uzi talked to her, getting her to focus on her.
"…" V sneered, but turned towards Uzi. Uzi then noticed that V was forced to hunch down in her cage, it having been designed to accommodate Worker Drones, not Disassembly Drones. Still, looking at Uzi, focusing on something, slowly calmed V down.
"Okay. Good. Now, we're going to get out of here, then we're going to get these collars off, and then we're going to get off this planet, okay?" Uzi assured her.
"…" V nodded reluctantly, her fingers gripping the cage, just barely able to touch the tips of Uzi's fingers.
"I think it looks great~"
"…" Uzi turned with great annoyance to stare at the cage between herself and J. There was another Worker Drone there from her colony, a second-generation drone named Rebecca.
Rebecca was unusually stupid, and unusually promiscuous. Though, for a species of machine built without genitals, all she could do was make-out with every other drone their age. Still, she seemed unusually calm in this situation.
"It's super kinky~!" Rebecca purred, flicking her short blue hair playfully.
"…" Uzi shook her head in disgust while V openly hissed at her.
"Seriously, moron-bot, not the time and place." Lizzy, who was on the other side of N, scolded her friend. "Just eww."
Past Lizzy, Uzi could see Doll in a cage. The other purple haired drone with red eyes was…doing some kind of desperate hand motions, splaying open her fingers with a flick, like she was waving or trying to use sign language. There was a desperation in her eyes for something to happen, but nothing did, and every time she did it, she winced in pain, her collar glowing a shade brighter as it punished her.
And people called Uzi a weirdo.
"You know what? I think I'm actually afraid." Thad, who was caged between N and J, added happily.
"Haha! Me too buddy! I'm terrified!" N shouted, smiling.
"…J!" Uzi called out. "What's going on? What's happening to us?"
"Isn't it obvious?" J smiled sadly. "We're being auctioned off. Sold into slavery."
Grid 072 – Central Belius / Auction / Wednesday, Tiberius 21st
It had been a while since she'd been surrounded by so many people. It didn't frighten her. Much.
The auction for the Jenson model androids was taking place in an abandoned factory, a conveyor belt serving as a line for showing off the merchandise to the hastily made auditorium for the potential buyers to sit in.
"Raven!"
621 turned, seeing a tall, blond-haired man with a young face and bright, red eyes. It was an unnatural shade of red, brought about by prolonged exposure to Coral. Rusty did not strike her as a Doser…so…he was Rubiconian. Naturally born with those bright red eyes. He was also wearing a blue trench coat over his pilot's suit.
"Glad you could make it, buddy!" Rusty smiled honestly. "You here to pick up those two drones?"
It seemed so long ago that she had to use her voice to speak to anyone. To actually have something to say. That could be said after what happened. Rusty had so far been honest and generous with her, the least she could do was be honest in return.
"Three." She admitted. "There was an ambush, and those three assisted me."
"Fair enough." Rusty nodded. "Point them out and I won't bid on them."
"Mmm." 621 hummed in appreciation.
. . .
It was a very quick proceeding. There were a couple of thousand items in stock and no one wanted to stay there all day. Still, there was a lot of competition as most of the unique items were early on the list.
621 was seated next to Rusty, watching the little Jenson model androids go down the conveyor belt, trapped in their cages. She and Rusty were perhaps the only ones in attendance to notice the obvious. Perhaps the only ones who cared.
Those little machines were afraid.
"Funny how one war happens and suddenly the whole 'verse can condemn these machines." Rusty pointed out. "They seem so humanlike…yet…we don't even show other machines such vitriol. Not even dumb ones like loaders or combat AIs."
"That war dragged on far too long, and no one could forgive them." 621 argued. "You didn't fight in the war."
"No. But you did." Rusty realized. "Someday I'd like to hear about that."
"Mmm." 621 hummed.
"Item-181." The AI core hired as an auctioneer announced. "Starting bid, 10,000 Coam."
It was a first-gen drone, probably male, dressed in a basic cold-weather jacket. It's white eyes looked around the room in confusion and fear. Not one of hers. The bidding went quickly.
"Sold, for 40,000 Coam." The AI announced, and the next drone was carted down the conveyor belt. "Item-182. Starting bid, 10,000 Coam."
This was a second-gen drone, obviously much younger, and with long purple hair. Not the one 621 was looking for though. She held herself fearfully, having some semblance of an idea of what was going to happen to her, even if she didn't understand. 621 tried not to feel for the little machine, but she knew. The poor thing had damned itself, wearing what amounted to a cheerleaders uniform, exposing the skinny, black artificial muscle that certainly looked like a human's midriff if one didn't think about it too much.
"Ah, poor girl." Rusty shook his head. "I wish I could…but…I'm working for Arquebus now."
The price rose particularly rapidly for this little machine, and 621 could only sigh. "Sold, for 500,000 Coam."
"…" 621 hoped she had enough. If they stayed in this price range she should be able to purchase her three drones with enough to spare to return most of the two million in script she'd been loaned. Handler Walter told her not to worry about interest rates.
"Item-183, Starting bid, 10,000 Coam."
This drone was surprisingly apathetic, dressed the same as the previous item, but with pink eyes and blonde hair. She put one hand on her hip, looking at the back of her other hand with disinterest.
"Sold, for 600,000 Coam."
"Ugh, that's it?" The drone sneered in surprise as it was carted away.
"Item-184. Starting bid, 100,000 Coam."
"Mmm!" 621 hummed, letting Rusty know she wanted this one. It was the male Disassembly Drone, hunched down in it's cage looking out at the crowd worriedly with it's bright yellow eyes.
The bid was rising quickly. 200,000. 300,000. 621 had to keep up, betting against the prospective buyers, finally pushing in a winning amount.
"Sold, for 700,000 Coam."
621 sighed in relief, and felt a pat on her back.
"Good job." Rusty nodded. "I know you'll treat him well."
"…" 621 nodded appreciatively.
"Item-185. Starting bid, 10,000 Coam."
"Huh…" Rusty hummed. This item was a male with green eyes, and was wearing a backwards baseball cap. "He looks pretty cool. I'm sure Arquebus won't mind if I get a friend."
"…" 621 shrugged, and Rusty put down the winning bid.
"Sold, for 150,000 Coam." The announcer declared. "Item-186. Starting bid, 100,000 Coam."
It was a female Disassembly Drone that 621 recognized, but not the one she was looking for. She did feel a little bad, considering that the ones she was buying and the one she was looking at probably knew each other. She didn't want to break up friends like that if she could…let alone what it would face alone…
But 621 did not see this particular drone at the ambush. She owed it nothing.
There was one problem, however. The design of the female Disassembly Drone was more aesthetically human in numerous ways, enough that it garnered more interest than average. The bidding went higher, much higher than it had for any of the Worker Drone variants.
"Sold, for 2,500,000 Coam."
"…Fuck…" 621 hissed. If the drone she was trying to acquire went for anywhere near that…
"Item-187. Starting bid, 10,000 Coam."
In a panic, 621 brought up her own part reserves, and sold off all the weapons she wasn't using. The machine gun, the rifle, her old blade, and her missile launchers. That got her another 460,000 Coam to play with, but that wouldn't be enough.
"Oh, hang on, get my good side~" The blue haired Worker Drone purred, doing a little dance as she turned her back to the audience. That instantly shot up the bidding a few times.
"Sold, for 1,300,000 Coam."
Damn that machine, costing 621 precious seconds. If she added in her own reserves, she should still have three million Coam to spend. But she needed to buy two more drones, and would be well short of the second one anyway.
"Item-188. Starting bid, 10,000 Coam."
621 had to pay attention, playing along and bidding for the little purple-haired drone, the one that had helped her in that ambush. But…what if she didn't? If she didn't buy this one and tried to sell the one she had already bought, she might, just might have enough…but there was no telling how much she could resell the other drone for, but probably not nearly as much. But…to screw over one to save another…dammit…dammit…dammit…
"Screw you guys! Go to hell!" The purple haired drone pumped her fist angrily at the crowd. 621 had to admire that indomitable spirit, reminding her of her youth. They were such small, little machines, they had no idea…none of them did…
"Sold..." Shit…621 had bought it. She couldn't screw it over like that. Wouldn't. Still… "…For 800,000 Coam."
"Fuck…Fuck!" 621 quietly cursed. She knew she wouldn't have enough.
"Item-189. Starting bid, 100,000 Coam."
This was it. This was the one. That little android with short silver hair and wide, yellow eyes. The one she had explicitly come here for. It was hunched in it's cage with a frightened, terrified expression. It was certainly stylish and feminine, in a cute way even, but that meant nothing good. In the first few seconds, the bid had already surpassed what meager funds 621 had left.
"…!" What else could she sell? Her Core? That would screw over Handler Walter, and put her into further debt. But she could get a million and a half for it…no…she'd been neglecting it's paint, and it looked like shit. She'd get less. What else did she have? Her body? No, she was far too old, and no longer the looker that she had been in her youth. Plus all the missing parts…parts…her organs? Her limbs? But…damn…she'd only get pocket change for those. She'd sell herself again if she could, but Handler Walter already owned her, she could not have two masters…
2,000,000…2,500,000…3,000,000…The bid still had ten seconds, but the price kept rising. 621 clenched her teeth hatefully. She didn't have the funds. She wouldn't be able to buy that little machine…that she couldn't stop thinking about…that she couldn't save…again…
One option left then. Utterly mad and absolutely desperate. No hope of success, and sure to fail. But it was the only option she had. How many people were here? How many machines? How many would stop her? How long could she go? The price on her head would surely be massive. No allies to turn to, all against her.
The way she saw it, her only option, the only choice she could stomach, would be to start a one-woman war against the whole of Rubicon. Maybe she'd die at the door, or maybe she'd stand over a billion butchered corpses left in her wake. She had no chance of success, and the price on her head would assure that she would be hunted and hounded every step of the way. Her blood boiled at the possibility, the opportunity, the chance to do something insane and impossible…because nothing was ever impossible…she'd seen it…proven it…
Maybe she was insane…all that, just because of who it looked like? 621 laughed pitifully. What a pathetic and sad creature she was, without a name of her own. Desperate to save someone who was already long gone, and projecting her desires on this unfortunate little machine.
So be it.
"Sold, for 4,500,000 Coam."
621's breath hitched painfully, knowing she'd lost any chance of a future. There was only dark bloodshed before her. Doing her worst, pretending to do right…
Until she saw who had purchased that sad, little machine.
"…Rusty?" She asked, surprised, seeing as he had won the bidding for the machine she wanted…needed…
"…I know a guy…who'll cook the books for me, make it look like I paid a lot more for the drones Arquebus wants." He said calmly, with a small smile on his face. "Pay me what you can, and promise to tell me some war stories over a drink. We'll call it even."
621 relaxed, and slumped into herself. She wanted to laugh, to cry, to shout out and scream. In relief and in pain. She hadn't saved that little machine. Maybe she never could. But someone did. Someone she didn't think was ever possible in this wide, cruel 'verse. Someone that shouldn't exist on Rubicon…
A good man.
"Thank you…Rusty."
The conveyor belt led towards a loading dock area where drones in their cages were being loaded into cargo containers, piled in a hundred at a time. It was demoralizing, seeing her people being treated as property once more. Less than a race, merely an item to be sold in bulk.
Interestingly, some of them, mostly the second gen Workers and Disassembly Drones, were being pulled off the line, put to the side for temporary storage.
"W-What's going to happen to us?" Uzi asked.
"I'll be honest…I don't know." J admitted. "Nothing good, though."
Fairly soon, J was separated from the line, placed on a transport, cage and all.
"J…?" N questioned, seeing his leader getting carted away.
"J…" V watched her get taken away with wide eyes.
"…" J winced in fear, holding onto her cage tightly, as she was taken away.
Then N and Uzi were separated, placed to one side, while V and Thad were placed in another nearby area.
"Um…" V hummed uncertainly.
"No…V!" N cried out. "It-it will be okay…okay!?" He said, mostly to himself.
"Oh…V…" Uzi sighed sadly.
Two humans came up together towards them. One was a tall man with blond hair and red eyes. The other was a woman, five feet, eight inches tall, but wearing dark sunglasses, an oxygen mask half obscuring her face, and a dark scarf wrapped around her neck. The only other detail that could be discerned about her, was that she had pale, olive colored skin, pushing white from lack of sunlight. They were each dressed in dark long coats, with pilot suits underneath.
They separated towards each group of drones, and pulled up their hand terminals. Then each drone saw a different command prompt come up internally.
/TRANSFERRING CONTROL: ALLMIND/C4-621
/TRANSFERRING CONTROL: ALLMIND/V. IV Rusty
Then, their new masters released them from their cages.
"Uh…" V quietly uttered, not sure what to say.
N and Uzi didn't waste any time, and approached her quickly. Certain it was the last time they were going to see her.
"V…! We'll…! We'll meet again! Okay!?" N cried.
"…" Uzi didn't say anything, but took V's hand, and held it tight. She felt V squeeze it back.
"So…uh…" The tall blonde man rubbed his head awkwardly. "That might not actually be necessary. Raven?"
"…" The woman swiped her hand terminal in his direction. He looked at his and nodded. Then he pressed a single finger into the side of V's control collar.
/TRANSFERRING CONTROL: V. IV Rusty/C4-621
"…!" V's eyes hollowed in surprise, realizing she would have the same master as N and Uzi. She held them a little tighter, making sure that this wasn't a dream.
"Now…I haven't known this woman for too long…but I have a good feeling about her. Stay close to her, and I'm sure you'll survive Rubicon." The man assured them. "Raven! Let's get that drink soon, yeah?"
"…" The woman nodded once.
"Uh…hey Uzi." Thad waved. "It's good seeing you again…I think…"
"Yeah…ha." Uzi grinned painfully. Burdened with simultaneous good and bad news all the same. "Maybe…we'll meet again?"
"Yeah. Cool." Thad gave them a thumbs up. Considering he was being allowed to walk by the side of his new master…that boded well. "See ya!"
That just left the three of them, Uzi, V, and N, with the woman who now owned them.
"So…hey…master…person." Uzi greeted uncertainly and sarcastically.
"…" The woman just stared at them, taking in the sight of them closely. She seemed to be especially staring at V…until she sighed loudly, seeming to deflate with disappointment.
"Don't call me master." The woman demanded. She then turned and walked away.
"Uh…wait up?!" N shouted, running after her, with V and Uzi close behind.
"Okay…so…what are you going to do with us?" V wondered.
"I intend to put you three to work. As scouts. As extra help."
"Yeah…must be convenient having a couple of robot slaves to throw at any problem." Uzi accused. "That must be-ahhh!"
Uzi didn't think she was afraid of heights, but seeing where the woman was walking made her reconsider that opinion. The woman apparently intended to walk several kilometers across a bridge that was precariously suspended four kilometers above the ground. The little engineer in her was screaming, questioning the structural integrity of the bridge separating two of the taller megastructures on this world.
"…" The woman sighed, and ignored Uzi's discomfort with the high bridge they were walking along. "Acquisition of yourselves as property was unintended, but does have it's uses. As my official property, you'll have some degree of protection. Anyone fucks with you, they'll be fucking with me too."
"That's…good?" V phrased it as a question.
"Additionally, I have no intention of treating you as property. You'll be fairly compensated for your work." The woman added.
"Uh…how much?" N asked.
"Ten percent."
"Just ten precent?" Uzi hissed. "For the three of us that doesn't seem-"
"Each." The woman corrected.
"Oh…fine." Uzi accepted that a little more.
"Uh…lady person? We've been trying to figure out something for a while now." V hesitantly asked. "What's the deal with Laconia? We know it's a planet…but we've been hearing about it so hatefully…?"
"…Oh." The woman mused slowly. "That's a lot to get into right now. But…a long time ago, Laconia acquired power to rival Sol, and built an empire out of conquest and subjugation. The war lasted far too long, and destroyed so much…it's why when people see you, they see the relics of the Laconian Imperium. They see the oppressors, the hated enemy of long past."
"Imperium…so…'LIN' must have stood for the 'Laconian Imperial Navy'…" Uzi realized, muttering that to herself.
The woman stopped, and turned towards her quickly. "Where did you hear that name?!" She demanded. "Where?!"
"Ah! Uh!" Uzi panicked. "It! It was on a ship!"
"What did it look like!? Tell me!?" The woman screamed.
"It! It! It! It was a big, box shaped-"
"Good." The woman cut her off. "If it was box shaped with flat surfaces, that's fine."
"O-Okay…?" Uzi stuttered. She didn't know why that had been so important, or what other shape the ship could have been that would have caused the woman concern.
"Umm…hey lady?" N questioned. "We've had another question, that's been kinda bugging us since we first landed on Rubicon. How come we don't die in sunlight here?"
"…?" The question puzzled the woman for a moment. "Ah, right, you two are some kind of robot vampires. The truth is the Fires of Ibis was a wholly unnatural event, that resulted in the local star going through a soft nova eruption, that scorched hundreds of systems across the cosmos." She pointed then at Rubicon's star, sitting low on the horizon. "That's not a star per say, but a white dwarf. A remnant, a corpse."
"So the star…is dead?" V hesitantly asked.
"Yeah." The woman nodded. "And Rubicon just keeps spinning on, under dead light."
Grid 073 - Independent Mercenary Hangars – Central Belius
The corpse star had dropped below the horizon by the time they reached the hangar that the woman operated from. They hadn't spoken much since.
"By the way." The woman turned to look at them. "What do I call you?"
"Oh…I'm Uzi..." Uzi considered telling the woman her last name, but decided against it, for a few reasons, mainly disgust and embarrassment. "Just Uzi."
"I'm…Serial Designation N." N added.
"…Serial Designation V." V declared quietly.
"…" The woman considered them for a moment, looking from V, to N, and finally to Uzi, and then counted them as such. "On mission, I'll be referring to you as Stray One, Stray Two, and Stray Three. That's your callsigns, and your new names."
"Uh…sure." Uzi accepted without much choice.
The woman then opened the door to the hangar, and stepped through first, leading the three drones in after her.
"So, who are…" N had been asking, when he and the other two android girls saw what was in the hangar. A shell of ruined paint and rusted over steel, ten meters tall and standing at the ready. A sight that had been haunting them for the past month that they had suffered and struggled across the glasslands and through decrepit megastructures. Against mountains of moving steel and enigmatic machines beyond their comprehension.
The Tarnished Armored Core.
"It's…it's you." V realized. Her savior and battle partner. The pilot who slaughtered their kind but went out of their way to save them. The Hound that feared nothing, and killed everything in their path. "Who...Who are you? What is your name?"
"My…name…?" The woman considered it, as she took off her scarf, mask, and sunglasses. "My name…" She trailed her fingers down her throat in consideration, then turned around and answered them.
There were many things they did not expect about the woman, that just her face alone revealed. She was older, appearing to be over thirty, perhaps forty years old, with wrinkles starting to pull at her skin where it was still fair. Long dark hair spilled from the back of her head, like fine silk. The right side of her neck and cheek had long, old burn scars, cutting deep into her flesh, but long healed over with sickly, taunt skin.
Most surprising had been the red ring on her neck, that marked her as a slave, as someone's property. The same as them.
However, the most fascinating detail about her was her eyes. Two perfect rings of burning orange light, filled with a pitch-black void in their center. An endless, haunting void far darker than the cold dead skies of Rubiconian night.
"I am Augmented Human C4-621. Callsign: Raven."
Author's Note: And that dear readers is the end of the introduction. Now that the main three Drones are under the wing of 621, we'll really start kicking this story into high gear. At least...as soon as I finish DBB. Chapter 20 is less than a week from finishing, and Chapter 21 within two weeks of that. Then I can refocus all my energy to making this the best story ever. It's going to be great. So, until then, please be patient.
On this chapter, I decided to make the Drones slaves for a couple of reasons. To lock down their abilities and make them even more vulnerable, and therefore dependant on 621. Also to create a certain dynamic, they aren't just Laconian detritus anymore, they are the Strays of a Hound, both a downgrade and an upgrade in their social status on Rubicon. Next chapter will be long and slow, as 621 guides them through Rubicon, and teaches them what they need to know to survive this scorched damned world.
Hey...wait a second...where else have I described eyes like that before...? Ah, I'm sure that won't matter.
So stay tuned mi beratnas, and remember, abide with Rubicon!
EDIT: Small error adding the "greater than" symbol. / used indead. Also tried to make a mark on the message from "ALLMIND" to seperate it from Rusty's message.
To MaxHD2490: Oh you ain't seen nothing yet. This chapter was bad, and still, it only gets worse from here.