Work on the hand laser was going slowly.
She wouldn't quite scrap the hand lasers but they definitely would be replaced by something far easier to construct.
The main problem she encountered when trying to build the damn things was similar to the mag rifle, the power source. The Protectron model was powered by a fissile battery and considering her current situation, she couldn't exactly get the materials needed to try and make one.
So she adapted. The Protectron's internals were entirely redone, made to accept a small power crystal as its main power source instead. However, this did give it some new advantages. While she couldn't entirely estimate how long the crystal would last as a power source, what she could guarantee was that it took up less space than a fissile battery.
It created a lot of excess space within the Protectron's frame, allowing UMP45 to have a bit more fun than she expected. Some minor modifications here and there and she could get a decent hybridization between ADVENT and RobCo tech.
With a tiny smirk, she began to replace the prototype hand lasers she'd constructed.
The lasers could be useful, but the Protectron was slow and unable to fully take advantage of them. Something more long-range could perhaps work. Something like a magnetic pistol perhaps?
But she was left with a minor inconvenience, that being the leftover hand lasers. What was she going to do with them?
She supposed she could turn them into handheld weapons… Eh. Might as well see what happens.
At least she made some progress working on the Protectron. Although it had taken a few days to get a decent computer setup and a few weeks of tinkering to make an appropriate design..
It wasn't like the Protectron was advanced. Far from it really. A generic automaton used in the military was definitely more advanced than the Protectron. It even used a vacuum tube!
A vacuum tube!
Those haven't been used since… Well, she didn't remember the exact date, but they definitely at least haven't been used since several decades ago.
No, the scientist who worked for ADVENT, the scientist who now resided in her wanted to improve it. UMP45 couldn't help but compare it to the ADVENT MECs and find the Protectron lacking in several areas.
So, a redesign was in store. Not a complete redesign, as it seemed durable enough and its simplicity meant that it would be easy to mass produce at some point, but some of its shortcomings particularly annoyed her.
One was its abysmal intelligence. She didn't need it to be completely sapient, but she'd want it to be good enough in a fight and smart enough to recognize friend from foe. It could do the latter but the former was debatable.
In comparison, ADVENT MECs could identify friend from foe and make tactical decisions of its own. Maybe not quite the best tactical decisions at times but it was better than simply standing in the line of fire.
It'd also be easier to adapt the ADVENT MEC AI to the Protectron as well seeing as it was designed to use a magnetic rifle. The programming already knew how to compensate for the recoil and fire rate, UMP45 just needed to tweak some minor details.
In addition, their firepower was… actually somewhat acceptable. Base Protectron models designed for combat were equipped with hand lasers and a head laser. But their combat inhibitors were exposed, meaning they would go berserk and attack anyone if that was taken out. But she'd already decided to replace those hand lasers and the head laser would be a bit overkill considering she was planning to replace both hand lasers with mag pistols.
Or would they be called mag gauntlets now?
Anyways, she decided to replicate the code for ADVENT MECs and give the Protectron improved internals. She'll still keep some of the 'lesser' technology, like the voice box, just to keep it easy for herself, at least for now due to a lack of materials. Building even a single Protectron was already straining some of her resources.
If she opted to build and modify an assaultron?
She'd have lost a lot more.
But…
UMP45 sighed, relaxing her arm, and taking a step back to inspect her work. Right now, the Protectron was nothing more than the internals and a basic frame made out of melted salvage, recycled screws, and some shoddy wiring.
It disgusted her. But it was good enough for now until she actually got access to better materials.
Grime and dust covered her false skin and she wasn't wearing her usual clothing anymore. She'd put it to the side, leaving it hanging on a rusted clothes rack she looted. Right now, UMP45 was wearing a set of disposable clothing that she grabbed from a random closet and a random store. It was nothing more than a pair of denim shorts, a black oversized hoodie, and some generic laboratory goggles.
She may have low standards for living conditions but she'd still rather not wear clothes that came from a corpse.
Speaking of living conditions, UMP45 smiled as she remembered the fact that she had a shower now. It was simple enough, she just collected clean water whenever she could outside her pocket dimension to bring back and put it into a simple pipe system that formed her shower.
It wasn't the most effective thing ever but it was servicable enough. Honestly, serviceable enough was an apt description for all of the things that she made. Her self-repairs, her mag pistol, and the Protectron she was building, just to name a few.
Now, it was time to take a break. She'd been working on this Protectron for quite a while now, a good shower to relax would be nice.
One quick shower later and UMP45 was back on her trek, refreshed and well-rested. She was still making her way west but she was in an overall better mood. And by better mood, that meant she didn't mind interruptions, even if they were potentially dangerous!
At least, didn't mind them as much. She would still prefer not to get into too much trouble before she finally reaches the Green Zone.
Really, all this travel better be worth it.
It obviously was, but UMP45 despite being in a better mood still found simply walking around to be boring. She'd rather a boring walk over a firefight but she still wanted something to occupy her mind.
Despite her newfound memories of being a scientist, one could still not handle working all the time. Exhaustion and fatigue came for everyone, even T-Dolls.
But she had to keep going. She couldn't stop. She had to get their just due, get to the M̸̨̡̛͕̖͓̣̫͓̖̦̬̲̪̏̉̈̒͋̓͒̚̚͜a̶͍̰̓̓̏̿̔̈́̌́̓̈́̇͆́̇̆̃͠͠ͅl̵̛̠̞̱̳̰̲̦̭͙͚̻̥̓̂̒̈́͛̊̾̈́͊͛̄͊͑̽̌̅̚͜d̶̢̻̠͈̖̜̗̳̰̳͙̯̤͎̅̎̊̿̔͛̓͐̽́̓̚͜i̶̞͚̖̩̤̘̩̼̖̪̬̮̝̫͎̙͎̜̿͋̒̀̀v̵̨̢̦͚̳̤̮̳͙̤̼̦̰͕̲̟̀͒̈̀̇̉̐́̕e̴̛̥͂̒̑͆̒s̶̮͕͈̠͎̳̠̟͎̟̑̀͛̃͑͋̈́͝ͅ, and then maybe she could relax. This was the least she could do for U̸̡̢̢͉̞̮̳̥͚̳̻̼̪͍̩̩̯̞͓̗̤̯͖̬̠̦̙̺̪̖͖̲̪̪͑̒̓̇͌̀́̃̌͗̉̀̑͛̈́̐̏̂̉̿̋̆͒̿̐̌̿̄̍̏́̋̓̓̄̾͊̚̕͝͠͠͝͝M̵̡͚͚̯͎͇̻̭̪̗̱̖̃̓͋̄͂͗̇̂̚͜͝͠ͅP̵̧̢̢̜͚̱͈̻͎̘͉̎̀̉̂̂́̎̀͗̆͛͆̍̀̏̓̑́͐̐̿̏̂̎̓̈́̆́̚͝͝͠͝4̴̢̨̨̢̛̗̜̬͙̝̰̱̯̪̫͕̠̜̪͉̙͎̣̭̬͓̯̞̥̭̲̮̙̯̭͖̩̬͓̠̝̰̾͋͑̿̽̔͒͑̌̓̾͆̇́͆̃̃̒͌͛̅͛͒̾̔̉͊̃̄̌̽̎͆͗͘̕̕̚͜͜͝0̶̡̧̨̘̭̫̬̭͎̭̳̫̖͈̺̗̣̬̲̟̲̮͙̬̌͌̀͛̏̈́̿̆͒͗̓̂͂̀͋͂͛́́̎̔̅͆̀̀̽͋̓͊̏͑̀͗̈́͒̄̒͆̇͗̊͠͝͝'s sake.
So, the cycle of walking, scavenging, and experimenting continued.
A few hours of walking. Several hours of working on the Protectron prototype. A few hours of rest, to maintain her digimind.
That was her life for the next week, until something or rather someone broke that cycle.
UMP45 absentmindedly spun the modified hand laser, or as she was personally dubbing it, the Stechrochen-alpha or S-α for short. She was already at the range, having changed back into her original clothing sans her bulletproof vest, casually taking aim at one of the generic targets it held.
The laser easily penetrated the target without even straining her arms.
"No recoil," UMP45 commented, inspecting the ugly weapon. And it was indeed very ugly. It was nearly as large as a Desert Eagle but its frame was even bulkier in certain sections. It definitely looked cobbled together and that stung what was left of her scientific pride.
"But…The effects are" UMP45 trailed off. She gently put the weapon on a nearby counter before pressing a button, activating a mechanism that pulled the target closer. Once it got close enough, she could clearly see the effects of the Stechrochen-α and compare it to the mag pistol.
The damage was more focused, as expected, but the damage was overall lower than she had hoped. It was clearly inferior to her mag pistol when comparing raw damage. UMP45 let out a soft hum, her digimind running through the possible uses. Although, it did have some benefits.
Namely, it was far simpler to produce and replicate, being 'lower tech' compared to the mag pistol. The only truly complicated mechanism is how she replaced its original power source with a power pistol, hence why it was so bulky. Manually at least.
She had other options to replicate and mass-produce things. Namely, the replicator sitting in her Weapons Lab.
To create pixels, she needed ore. And it wasn't like she could use scrap. No, she needed raw ore.
Quite the annoying restriction but it definitely could've been worse. At least she could potentially buy raw ore or depending on what star she got next, mine them herself.
But enough self-narration, it was time to scavenge.
UMP45 holstered the S-α and grabbed her mag pistol, her UMP45 already slung over her back. She had changed back into the clothes she wore back when she worked with Griffin and Kryuger sans the bulletproof vest. She was planning to revamp that later, when she got the materials to make something similar to the armor that ADVENT troopers wore.
Exiting her pocket dimension, she was greeted by the extremely familiar sight of trees, trees and more trees. A myriad of brown, green and black filled her vision. The night sky, cloudy but no less beautiful blanketed the sky as the stars twinkled, but not in the same way those constellations did.
The whistling of the wind as it ran past her face, the loud but consistent bursting of air as lightning hit the ground, the pitter patter of soft rainfall hitting the dense soil and the crackle of a small fire… She took a deep breath, the action calming her. All of it made her feel—
Wait. Fire? UMP45 blinked before she burst into action. Taking cover behind a nearby ruined home. She swiftly made her way up to the second floor and posted herself at one of the ruined windows.
And there it was.
A burning flame. Standing against the darkness. It was in another nearby ruined building, a few houses down. Some idiotic human probably. How many random encounters was she going to get?
No… Wait.
She could hear several voices. She strained her audio receptors as much as she could to try and listen in.
"—aid! I already gave you half!"
"All of it now and then the product."
"Great. A drug deal." UMP45 quietly muttered to herself.
Why would humans do a drug deal in the middle of a red zone? That was just… perfectly human. Perfectly idiotic. Perfectly human.
UMP45 narrowed her eyes, as her model's natural night vision activated, allowing her to see the four humans shivering in the cold.
Two drug dealers and two clients judging by the 'formation' they were in.
One of the humans, a male in some unkempt clothing, growled and reluctantly handed over some cash. Local money, _, rather than the rapidly spreading and universal credits.
"This had better been worth it." The same unkempt man scowled.
"Don't worry," One of the dealers responded, pushing a crate forward, "You know where to find us, if you want to file a complaint." He said derisively.
The other client walked forward, pulling out a crowbar to wrench the crate open. revealing the countless guns hidden within.
UMP45's eyes widened in mild surprise. Those were AKs. AK-47s if she remembered correctly from her time back in G&K. It was a weapons deal, not a drug deal.
Hmm… now that was something.
"Ammo included?" The client with the crowbar asked.
"As usual, yes."
Now, UMP45 was no hero nor was she a knight in shunting armor, but she really wanted to cause a firefight. Not for any noble reasons but because those guns could be modified and recycled for her own projects.
All those resources… just waiting to be taken…
UMP45 blinked.
Okay, that was a bit strange even for her.
UMP45 shook her head to clear her thoughts. Alright. How was she going to do this. She could easily take them out with a frontal assault but that ran the risk of damaging the weapons.
She had the drop on them. They didn't know she was there. She could easily open fire on the four of them from her current position.
Problem with that plan was that she was not the best at marksmanship. The Stechrochen-α made up for that with its highly accurate nature, no recoil, and no bullet drop but even then, she was more used to actually using something with those two latter qualities.
But… she could follow them. They had to have a base somewhere and note it down so she could come back later. The long game essentially. High returns, it just would take a while. And worse yet, she likely couldn't go into her Workshop until she stopped following them, unless she wanted to lose them.
With a few more moments of musing to herself, she decided to go with the third option. Trailing behind the weapon dealers with a malicious smile on her face.
She made a good call. An extremely good call. They headed West, like she had been doing for a while. They made the journey on foot, taking several long breaks each day, and she had been prepared to call it quits but then they led her here.
Tall walls. Several guarded checkpoints that kept track of who left and who entered. And a modern, yet poor town that hid behind the 'great' walls.
She found it. It took a lucky encounter but she'd done it. UMP45 had made it to a green zone.
Now. How should she sneak in was the question. The men she had been tailing had simply bribed their way in. She didn't exactly have any money to her name, so that was out.
A part of her screamed that her targets were getting away but she was more concerned about actually being able to… do things. Things other than walking and experimenting.
Hmm… Oh right. She nearly hit herself in the head for being so idiotic.
She was an E-War T-Doll! She could simply hack her way in. All that experimenting and those inserted memories truly confused her at times.
The electronics those border guards used to make sure whoever those people were, were the people they said they were, would be a good warmup, that's for sure.
With easy confidence, she joined the line of civilians. Quite a few looked at her in fear due to the weapons she carried and her yellow glowing eyes. She looked just like the PMC T-Doll she used to be.
The line slowly moved forward. And once shit got into range, she struck.
UMP45 appeared in a blue void, blocks of data surrounded her floating in the air just waiting to be accessed. It was a simulated world with quite frankly, a pathetic wall not much taller than a garden fence, that was supposed to prevent her from reaching the actually important data. The wall itself was full of holes and in complete disrepair. With a roll of her eyes, she easily hopped over. Finding a large book, she quickly wrote in a false name, false company, and a random T-Doll model.
And just as easily as she entered, she left, her eyes refocused on her surroundings seeing that the line had barely moved.
"Verdamnt. How long will these take?" UMP45 angrily mumbled. But she purposefully made it just loud enough for a few uppity guards to overhear. And although they didn't understand German, they could get the gist of what she was feeling.
UMP45 had a twinkle of mischief in her eyes as she approached with a confident smile. The two guards flinched making her smile get even wider. They barely even read through her false credentials before they swiftly let her in.
She chuckled. Too easy.
There were a lot of buildings. Most of them were heavily occupied, often overwhelmingly so. Humans, and a few run-down T-Dolls, were packed together in cramped, run-down buildings. These buildings were barely holding themselves together and were so horribly designed that she could easily spot details that could be refined with just a few adjustments.
But it would be these buildings that would hide her. At least for now.
You see, she had an idea. Generously given to her by those humans she had previously been tailing.
Humans kill each other all the time. But they needed an intermediary. Most humans wouldn't bludgeon their wives to death with their bare fists. They'd do it with a tool or even an object, like a golf trophy.
Most humans instead preferred something else. After all, professionals had 'standards'.
So they'd created clubs. Nothing more than oversized sticks to bash the heads of their enemies.
Slingshots to attack from range. So they wouldn't have to get their hands dirty.
Bows were next. Far more efficient than slings.
Then swords. Something far more 'clean' and 'elegant.' An attempt to hide how they were still killing each other.
And then the gun. The most efficient and the fastest option to kill someone.
Weapons were and will always be in high demand. And she'll be there to provide. Of course, she couldn't give them the best she had, but some poor copies weren't out of the picture.
Well, even poorer copies than they already were. But they wouldn't need to know that.
Nor were conventional firearms out of the picture. She still had the blueprints of the MP-443 Grach. With a little fine-tuning, it'll be a fine weapon.
But first, UMP45 needed more supplies. A lot more. And she was now in the perfect place to get some.
Stealing would be quite easy. She could simply scavenge barely functioning cars and trinkets, maybe even take apart working appliances.
But she wanted to keep a relatively low profile for now. And people would definitely notice a new face. Humans tended to stick together in groups. A few didn't but most did. Cliques and the like existed in Griffin and Kryuger. No matter what hiring practices they claimed to have, the humans stuck together. And even then, they had groups amongst themselves.
But she digressed. The point was that she was an outsider. Someone to be wary of. Especially since she was a T-Doll. Humans didn't quite like them, despite the fact that they made T-Dolls in their image.
She didn't have any credits or local currency to purchase what she wanted. Unless…Her mind wandered to the reason that she found this place. The weapons deal.
UMP45 looked down at the Stechrochen-α she had holstered on her hip. How much would someone pay for it? Definitely a lot. The second question she thought about was if anyone here could afford it in the first place.
But, that was an avenue she should definitely explore later.
Thus, there was only one option that she could think of left. Dumpster diving.
Well, it wasn't exactly literal dumpster diving, but she'd be combing through trash and thrown objects, which was hardly something she wanted to do. Her one saving grace is that she would be able to stop dumpster diving after she got set up. At least, once she made some help that is.
Then UMP45 stopped in her tracks. A slow, vaguely amused grin made its way onto her face.
"Oh?" She drawled, "Am I interrupting anything?" Despite her smile, her yellow eyes shone with pure irritation.
A few of the men, who had just attempted to surround, her flinched but made no other move, hoping that she hadn't noticed them. They had hidden themselves behind everything and anything. A few poorly disguised men stood in dark alleys and a few more hid behind some dumpsters.
At least they had some kind of uniform. A combination of some dirt suits and beat-up armor they probably grabbed from the trash cans at the back of a police station. They were just a group of poor humans wielding a mix of cheap guns and bashed-together melee weapons. Ones you'd see in a zombie movie or something.
Ľ̸̨̝̟̃̏_̵̶̶̧̧̢̢͕̳͓̯̮̤͕̞͎͉̙̹ͯ̍̽̽̾̋̉͢_̶̸̗͕̆̀ͯ̔ͥi̷̶̧̨̛͚̫̣̫͓̮͕͎̳̜̞͍̗̠̩̯͕ͯ̓͗ͭͩͥ͑ͪͫ̽͛ͯ̔ͪ̇͝͝͝k̷̶̛̬͍͓͇̘͐͊ͬ͐͂̔͘͜͠ę̷̵̬̳̯̮̗̙͎ͨ́ͪ̋ͦͦ̕̕͢͟ ḯ̶̡̙̮͕͖̱̜̖̅͌ͦ̀̈͐ͫͨ͗̊͊ͣ̿̈́̀ͥ̚͘͘̕͟͞n̩̪̦̈́̈́ͦ̑̾ͫ̏ ţ̵̴̷̨̛͔̘͔͔͖̪̹͙̼͉͇͎̩̫̣̇̒͋̆ͫ̿̔̑͆ͦ́̓ͧ̃ͫ̀̍̚͘͜h̩̻ͫe̢̖̲̪͎̥̮̞͔̮ͦ̇͆́̇͐̐̈ͧ́͗̾͞_̷̨̛̦̯̖̀͌̍̚ m̸̶̧̧̩͓̹͚̘̼̞̘̙͐̃̈̾̊̑ͥ̔ͪͨͤ̌̃̋͌ͯ͐̌̅͝o̧̨̢̼͕̬̖͍̮̖̟̝̘̭̺͚͔̻͚̤̓̿̄͂ͧ͛ͪ͋̉ͦ̌ͧ̔̈́̆̏͑̕͟͜͝v̸̧̨̡̜͕̺͔̳̤̠̦̜̠͇̜̮̏̆̍ͯͦͣ̅̋͂̈̈͌̈́̂̂ͧ͜͡͠ͅ_̫̩̎̀̄̿̅͌í̤̔̈́͂͘e̱̗̪͘_̶̴̧̥͔̺͚̱̦̭̜̰͈̼̤͙̪͍̦͚̹̅ͧͫͦ͒̇̌ͫͣ͟͟͜͡ͅͅş̺͖͎ͫ́͂͊̂͌͗̀͋͛͘_̢͎͚̈́̓̈͡ Ų͖ͨ́_͈̻͒M̦̠̘͖̭̳̪̥ͪ̆̔͒̌ͥ̑͒̅̀ͪ̚ͅP̴̬̤͕̗͚͐͢4̴̗͕͔̟̭̫͕͖̰̼͎͇̤̻̣̦̎ͧͥ̂̋ͯ͆̏̐͐̾̅̈͊́̇͗ͣ͝_̵̧̬͇̾̋̊0̵̫̯͈͖̦͈̪̎ͦ̓͗̆̔ͤ͗̀̔̕̚͘͟͠͞ s̨̛̘͕̳̯͉͓͕̘̭̊ͮ̀̐ͮ̒͐̑̕͜͜͞ḩ̓̇̃͗̍͟_̷̵̨̢̘̯̲̫̹͉̮ͬ̓̀ͫ͒̾̊́̅̉ͩͨ̃ͮͩ̓͘͟͟͟͝͠ͅǫ̩͙ͭ̍̓ͮ̑ͫ́͗͋̃̎̓͜͠͞_̵̴̷̸̡̡̠͎̜̮̜̖̳̠̫̞̮͖̈́̌̽̅͛ͭ͝w̷̡̛̰̰̹̟̰̭͔̬̮͈̠̯̝͑͑ͦ́̋͗ͩ̀̑̈́ͬ́̾̀͌ͫ̏͒̊͝ͅę̸̬͕̘̠̳̮̫͕ͮ̐̄̀͗̚̚͜͡d̵̫̻̱̮͇̼͉̤̤̺̈́̄͐ͮ̊͗̐̊ͦ̀͢ ḩ̷̸̘͓̠̻̺̪̗̤̖̟̪͓͗̿̓̆̾ͮ̄̒ͤe̡̘̠̼̟͙̝̖̦͖̦͉̲̱ͭͤ͌͊͑̉̐ͭͪ̀͗ͮ͛ͮ̑͆̏ͬͤͫ̊̚̚͢ͅȓ̹̺̺̃͆͡
The Resistance and XCOM had better equipment when she joined them! At least that's what those memories of hers told her.
Really. Was her luck that bad to have these sorts of encounters? Or was there something else causing this?
Scratch that. Considering why she was on the run in the first place, it made sense for her luck to be this bad. But, maybe she could get something out of this.
"Yeah. You are." One of the men finally responded after realizing she already knew they were there. He stepped out from his 'concealed' position. And to be honest, he was nothing really special. Probably a mook or a lieutenant at best.
"You think you can really just waltz straight in here and not pay a protection fee?" He continued. The man then smirked, "Don't worry though, it's only twelve credits."
UMP45 raised an eyebrow, "Why do I feel like there's a catch?" UMP45 questioned the lieutenant.
"Smart Doll." The leader commented and held out his hand, "Twelve credits, every week. Now pay up, Doll. We don't have all day." He demanded. A few of his men came out from their hiding places. Some looked nervous while others had surprisingly good poker faces.
Came with being hardened criminals she supposed. But she also supposed being hardened criminals didn't mean they weren't Dummköpfe.
UMP45 pretended to think, "Hmm, and if I don't pay?" She said with a grin, walking a bit closer to one of the lieutenant's men.
The man chuckled, shaking his head, "That isn't an option, Doll. You're lucky we aren't taking your body."
Just a bit closer…
"My body? Is it really that interesting?"
As the man began to speak, UMP45 tuned him out, simply continuing to amble closer until she was less than a meter away from an uncomfortable-looking man with a cheap pistol.
The confident lieutenant didn't have any time to react before a bullet flew through his head, his brain matter splatted all over a nearby wall. UMP45 then proceeded to kick the man next to her in the groin, making him collapse in pain.
Cries of surprise and terror echoed throughout the road, followed by the sound of gunfire.
I'm quite exhausted today but I hope this chapter is at least serviceable. As usual, let me know if there's anything I can improve on or any inconsistencies, I'm always looking to improve.
Perks Gained:
N/A
CP Banked: 700