One man down, one man writhing in pain, five more to go. They probably thought she had that 'feature' that prevented her from hurting humans.
If there was one thing she could thank the ones that caused the ḯ̶̠̱̩̗͚̝̼̭͓͌́͑̊͊̂̉̎̀͂͘͝n̸̫̳̬͖̥͖̭̥̞̝̫̘̙̓͒̄̏̌͝c̶̬̖̫͕̹͎͍̀̔͋͋̕̕̕̕ͅį̵̛̻̯͔͕̠̹̝̮̊̇̅̐̑̽̂̎̄̌̉̚͠d̸͕̻͈̲̮̞͉̪͖̝͐̈́̑̽̿̊̓͘ȩ̶̤̜̽̆̎̃̽̉̊̋̊̔͊͘͠n̵̢̢̘͓͈͍̦̭̖͇͉̍͗͐͛́̈̇̆͋͠t̴̛̛͙͙̫̾̀͆̄̈͌͛̉̏̈́̐, it was that they removed that 'feature'.
They likely thought killing some Sangvis scientists or Griffin & Kryuger personnel would be necessary.
She shot at one of the panicking gangsters but missed. A loud curse escaped her lips, her lack of a decent fire control core put her at a disadvantage. She may have been better than the average human, but that was it. Against T-Dolls with better specs, she'd need to find an alternative way to deal with them.
But her fire control core was good enough for mopping up some street thugs at least.
UMP45 ducked into cover, using the wall of a nearby concrete building. Likely prefabricated but she digressed.
A few stray bullets hit the concrete sheltering her but most flew wildly into the air, potentially hitting stray humans. Clearly, they were well-trained.
UMP45 responded in kind, nailing another man in the torso and making him collapse to the ground with a loud cry. Blood gushed from his wound, staining his suit as he desperately begged for help. One of his friends heard his cries and tried to help.
Key word being tried.
As the man rushed to grab his comrade, a bullet tore through his neck. He fell next to his friend, dead.
None of the gangsters thought of pushing forward. It would've been a hopeless charge, but it was better than what they were doing now. Namely, panicking like a pack of dumb animals.
One of the men pointed his cheap, knockoff rifle at her position. Unfortunately for him, he didn't think of even taking cover because of either overconfidence or shock. Or perhaps a mix of both.
"How is it doing thi–" His sentence was interrupted by two of his men cutting their losses and retreating, dropping their guns in the process.
"You fucking cowards!" He turned to face them, not noticing that two more of his fellow gangsters had perished in the time he took to speak.
He never even noticed that UMP45 had stopped shooting until he'd turned back around to see right in front of him. A terrifying grin was all that he saw before he felt something metallic crash into the side of his face.
The man fell to the ground unconscious. And UMP45 finished him off with a shot to the head. Brain matter and bones flooded the ground.
UMP45 scoffed. If an E-War T-Doll like her could take them out, they wouldn't stand a chance against a proper frontline T-Doll. She glanced up at the path the two cowardly, yet slightly more intelligent, humans took.
A part of her wanted to kill them. It'd leave no loose ends but at the same time, they could be useful. If they reported to their superiors one of two things could happen. Either the leader would get spooked and leave her alone or they'd come after her.
The latter was far more likely than the former though.
But in the long term, having a more merciful reputation would mean humans would be far likelier to surrender.
Decisions, decisions.
UMP45 slung her UMP over her shoulder. If they came after her, she'd be able to deal with it. They'd only be wasting their precious lives anyway.
A quick inspection of her surroundings showed that humans of all kinds were looking at her in fear, cowering in their crowded homes to try to hide from her sight, murmuring to each other all the while. A few looked like they wanted to intervene during the fight but after they saw the gangsters dying, they opted not to. A young boy, somewhere around his late teens by UMP45's estimate, stared at her. What looked to be his mother tried to get him out of UMP45's view but he seemed almost entranced.
Interesting. She quirked an eyebrow as the boy continued staring at her.
A distant siren began to wail. The police. She was surprised they would respond but she supposed even the most uncaring, corrupt cops still had to at least pretend to do their jobs. And she was a T-Doll. She figured they wouldn't mind taking her out.
With an aggravated sigh, she slung her UMP45 over her shoulder and was about to run into a nearby alley before she stopped herself.
The guns would be useful, if only as materials. It wasn't like the humans were going to use them anyway. She quickly looted the bodies for anything useful, leaving the few personal items they had behind. UMP45 may be a tad trigger-happy but she had standards.
With the weapons now in hand and a few credits pocketed, she spotted that same boy and cheerily waved before she disappeared into the shadows.
When the police arrived. All they found were cold bodies with the perpetrator nowhere in sight.
The next few days were a blur. With the few credits she'd rightfully taken as compensation, she had bought a decently sized room for herself. It was hardly secure and quite stuffy, but it was private enough for the price. With a monthly rent of five credits, it was a steal.
It had been originally ten credits per month but a charming smile was all that was needed to bring it down to half. Then she'd visited a the night market, merchants selling their wares of whatever they found in a scrapyard or whatever they owned before they were forced to move here.
A few soft smiles and she'd come back to her room a few credits poorer but with several helpful components. An old dingergate with some of its components destroyed, some old mechanical toys, various scrapped parts, and even some actual batteries.
Finally, she wouldn't have to use up those power crystals as much.
She'd have to start smiling a bit more if this pattern kept up.
She was currently lying on her old couch, that'd came with the room. Hopefully, she shouldn't be staying in this 'apartment' for long but who knows? But the semblance of privacy was good enough for her to enter her Workshop. A short scan from her Weapons Lab quickly identified the guns used by those gangsters who tried extorting credits from her or at least identified their inspirations.
Two Tokarev TT-33s, a Nagant M1895, and a Tokarev SVT-38. All Russian weapons. Of course, they weren't actually 'real' in the sense that they came from a factory. They were those models in the sense that they merely looked like them. Knockoffs.
But they were usable. Somewhat.
But that wasn't her goal.
She needed to earn credits to fund her current projects. The Protectron was almost in a usable state, she just needed a bit more time to finish it. And then she could start on some new projects she was interested in. Two of them to be exact.
One RobCo product and one ADVENT-inspired weapon. The F.E.T.C.H Collectron and shock lance respectively.
The F.E.T.C.H Collectron was a robotic dog similar to a Dinergate that did exactly what the name implied. It collected things. It'd be useful to grab some stray materials that she might miss. And it was disposable too. And if there were kids around, she supposed that she could even sell a F.E.T.C.H or two to them.
The shock lance was also self-explanatory. The reason she wanted to develop it was to sell it for a decent price. The stun lance was meant for riot control but that didn't mean it couldn't be lethal. But overall, it wouldn't be that threatening to her systems. Against humans, however, it was more threatening. And she was sure some would pay a decent amount of credits for one.
Someone knocks. UMP45 looks up at her door. She grabs hold of her Mag Pistol, ready to defend herself if necessary, before checking the peephole. She let out a sigh and swung the door open with a grin she didn't truly feel, leaning on the doorway.
The Ukranian woman in front of her flinched, causing her ponytail to shake behind her. She was dressed in a gray sports shirt and a matching skirt that clearly needed to be ironed. Her ensemble almost resembled a secretary, if not for the current condition of the clothes.
If she could only spare power to iron it in the first place. Everything was expensive here, especially the so-called essentials that humans needed.
"Did you need something?" UMP45 asked impatiently, she'd wanted to go to her Workshop to finish the Protectron.
"Y-yeah." Her landlord, or more accurately her doormat of a roommate for this 'apartment', Nevena if she recalled correctly, stammered. Her 'apartment' wasn't really an apartment in the first place. More like a few sparse rooms that no one used in this housing unit. And the actual renter of this place needed someone to contribute to paying the credits they needed to keep this place.
Hence why UMP45 now lived here.
UMP45 waited for the brunette woman to speak but when she simply kept stammering, she sighed as her grin left her face.
"My, should I be happy that I made you speechless?" UMP45 blandly said.
"N-no! Sorry." Nevena took a deep breath, "I just wanted to check up on you and make sure you were doing okay." She said awkwardly, fiddling with her fingers. Her eyes, however, traced the scar on her eye.
UMP45 stared at the human. She blinked, slowly. A brief flash of irritation ran through UMP45 before she crushed it. Hopefully, that wasn't outwardly shown.
"I… appreciate the thought," UMP45 reluctantly replied with a slight nod.
The two stood there awkwardly for a few more moments before UMP45's grin returned.
"If you don't need anything else, do you mind leaving?"
Nevena jumped ever so slightly before nodding, "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"
"Jawhol, I'll keep that in mind," UMP45 said before gently closing the door. UMP45 stood there until her landlord's footsteps faded away.
"That was strange. But she's nosy. Noted." UMP45 muttered to herself as she turned around and walked over to her bathroom. At least the woman didn't enter any of her rooms, if she did, then she'd have had to been a better infiltrator than UMP45.
At least the woman didn't ask for identification. And if Nevena kept the questions to surface-level ones, then she supposed her landlord, roommate, whatever was tolerable.
UMP45 took out her Access Key from her pocket and used it to open the door. She hummed as she walked inside, going through her Entrance Hall and into her Workshop where her nearly complete Protectron lay.
Although, she couldn't exactly call it a Protectron anymore, could she? Outwardly at first glance, it was similar if not for the mismatched armor plating and the replacement of the glass head with two red ocular systems. But when one looked at it a bit more closely, the hand lasers and their attached manipulators had been replaced with two barrels. Modified mag pistols, with better damage potential and better accuracy than what they replaced.
There were more improvements but they were less visible, such as a signal processor. One that would be able to read T-Doll identification keys. Although she lost her software identification key, it was moreso the key expired. She could still use it, it just wouldn't work.
But the main difference was its AI, the thing she arguably has been having the most trouble with. Trying to make a, quite literally, alien operating system work alongside an ancient human operating system was hard. She was– She had the memories of being a scientist. Not a programmer.
She was just on the brink of a breakthrough though, she could feel it.
UMP45 plugged her cobbled-together PC into the Protectron's brain or core for lack of a better word. It wasn't quite a motherboard, it was something else in its entirety but RobCo only referred to it as a brain in its Holotopes, likely to give it a more 'human' feel. Or purely out of amusement.
If so, funny. Real funny.
At least she could add a bit more to its core, namely its ability to identify friendlies and the Opfor.
UMP45's fingers danced across the keyboard for a few moments before she let out an aggravated sigh. Several clicks of the backspace key later, she was back into a groove. The almost soothing clacks of the keyboard echoed throughout the room as she typed in code that would allow it to use its improved sensors.
Then she had to stop. Because she made another mistake. And once more, she had to go back, scanning the several millions of lines of code that made up the brand new, operating systems she had to code for this Protectron.
One of her glowing eyes twitched as she isolated a portion of her code and tried testing it. A bright red error appeared on her PC's monitor. IT wouldn't even run.
It didn't work.
She had changed the wrong line.
Where had she messed up?
UMP45 continued scanning her code, her eyes losing whatever hope she had for a pleasant day as lines upon lines flew down her screen. Then she paused.
A semicolon.
UMP45 leaned back, trying to relax. Eyes closed.
"GAA–"
"Test. Number. Five." UMP45 grabbed her own arm to prevent it from shaking. From frustration, not because her body was breaking down, if she may add.
Five tests. All because her code kept failing.
The first test was somewhat boring. The Protectron simply refused to move or do anything, like turn on.
The second test was a bit better. It actually turned on for a minute before it tried shooting at her, forcing her to hit a kill switch. The third and fourth were disappointing as it just walked around aimlessly without following any verbal orders.
IMPACT CALIBRATION helped make those tests not as bad as they could've been.
A single press of a button on her PC sent the activation signal. Actuators whirred to life, the core awakened, and guns primed. Its two ocular systems powered on. Bright red eyes scanned the room for immediate threats before it spoke.
"Powering up. Protectron on duty." A slow, light, and clearly robotic voice emanated from the Protectron's voice box. It was hardly menacing and UMP45 could've changed the tone of voice, but that was extra work she didn't exactly want to do at the moment.
UMP45 took a deep breath, an unnecessary action considering she was a T-Doll but she now understood very well why some humans did it.
"Who am I?" UMP45 tentatively asked, hoping it would be able to identify her identification key.
The Protectron took a moment to reply, "Key received. Identity confirmed. Administrative Unit: UMP45."
UMP45 nodded in slow approval, "Protectron, what would you say to someone intruding on my workshop?"
"This is a restricted area. You will be sanctioned with deadly force if you do not leave immediately." This time, the Protectron immediately responded and its mag pistols began charging but it soon stopped before it fired anything.
So far so good. It even charged its weapons as she programmed it to, it should be enough to intimidate any humans. But she shouldn't get her hopes up yet.
Still, a small smile formed on her face, "Protectron. Test your weapons systems on the humanoid targets in the Weapons Lab." UMP45 ordered.
"Assignment received: weapons testing." The Protectron slowly waddled over to the gun range and took aim with its mag… gauntlets. A burst of fin-stabilized rounds hit the targets. Most hit the torso of the target but a few scattered around and hit the margins, that being the arms and waist. Overall, its aim was… acceptable. Definitely worse than the T-Dolls that worked for Griffin & Kryuger, but it didn't have a fire control core, so she considered it a victory.
A small part of her wanted to find a fire control core to study but that'd likely require combat or lots of capital.
But the more important takeaway was the methods and design philosophies she learned from how RobCo designed its automatons. Building an Assaultron or even a Sentry Bot would be far easier now. She could even reuse some of the code she made for the Protectron.
"That's good enough, Protectron. Shut down."
"Shut-down signal received. Unit returning to standby mode." The Protectron's eyes dimmed and its arms became slack. Its chassis still remained in place at the gun range.
One proof of concept down. She'd unfortunately have to keep it in reserve for now until she needed a walking wall. As a bodyguard, it was sufficient, but she didn't want to advertise her abilities until she was properly set up.
That didn't stop her from feeling a bit giddy to continue making thin–
Ḿ̴͚̬̝̰̰͐̈͛̇͂̋́̅̑̿̇͘͝͝͠ì̷̤͈̘́̋ͅļ̷̛̹̱͉̲͇̟̱͚̻̥͍̞͇͍̓͋̾̌̆́̿̇̋̄̉͐̇́͘e̶̢̧͉͉̞̺̹̻̮̾̋̽̓͊̊̾̔ͅs̴̡̛͓͆̉͌͋̐̓̉͂̋͒̋͆̃͑͊͠ͅẗ̴̯̯̳͖̝̞́̀̓̐̍̈̊̑͒̊̀́̈̍͝o̸̡͚̝͉̭̼̞̭̮̅̒̔̎̈́́͗͜ṅ̶̠̳̩͉̰̫̝̫̩̟̯̊ͅe̴͍̊̃͂̂ ̷̲͇͈̥̱̲̬͉͛R̸̡̮̼͓̞͕̗̦̹̹̭̹̱̒̄̀͐̋̀̈́͐͌̈̚͜͝e̶̢͚̝̣͋̀̾̏a̷̢͔̗̹͚̜͓̥͍̟̭͈̤̖̙̳̒͌͐̀̂̄͐̎̅͆͊͘͘͠c̵̤͋͋̈́͗̾́͑̊̿̈́̑̓͊͌̾͝͝h̶̨̢̟̹̼̙͍̝͕͓̱͙̭͍̠̳̠̎͐͗͂̐͌̊͘ë̷̬͇̺͇͇̿̅̒̒͒͘ͅd̷̨̢̛̛͔̥͖̪̬̺̼̑̓͑̿͘̚
–gs.
"At least it didn't hurt like the first time." UMP45 mused to herself, now standing once more in the peaceful beach surrounded by stars, "Still pretty jarring though." She eyed the various constellations surrounding her, "Now which constellation to choose." UMP45 wondered, idly kicking some false sand with her foot.
It was a tossup really.
The three that stood out to her were the Time, Quality: Efficiency, andthe Mundane Small/Large Scale constellations.
Time was obvious. Anything that would cut down on the time it took for her to build anything was ludicrous and something that would definitely help her set up.
Quality: Efficiency was seemingly similar to the Quality: Resource constellation in that it helped with resource management. Except rather than giving her more resources to work with, it helped manage what resources she had more efficiently as the name implied.
The Mundane Small/Large Scale constellations were a tad more strange. It also seemed to be tied to resources, but rather than giving her abilities or skills related to resource management. It just gave her them. That Rare Material Cache was from the Mundane Small Scale constellation.
The materials are replaced yearly, which was too long for her. But if she could get something that was replaced more often and/or something that would help with her energy needs better, it would be invaluable.
But then there were all the other constellations! Like the ones related to giving her Workshop more facilities! Or constellations that gave her direct knowledge!
UMP45 took a moment to sigh and calm herself, closing her eyes to think. Too many choices led to indecision, something UMP45 was currently very familiar with. She just needed to rule out some choices.
The more exotic constellations were out… Magic was a curious concept but would she even be compatible? All those stories, the few that Ụ̸̰͚̲̞̠̲͖͎̠̺̳̪͓̣͈̟͋̓̾̏̈́͋͋̀̋͊̓͑͋̏̾͘̚M̵̡̗̱̅̈͊̓͛̐̔̋̾̿̈́͊͠P̷̛̦͕̖̣̳̭̊͗̒̋͌̔̏̌̈́̈͘͘ͅ4̴̣̫̋͑̓̎́̅0̷̦̥̂͒̿̒́̅̃͋ showed her involving magic either didn't involve any T-Dolls or automatons or just had them not be able to use it. It just wasn't worth the risk right now to see if she could do magic.
Resources were now more abundant now that she could access markets and junkyards. She just needed money to get some of the higher-quality resources. And personally, she'd rather get used to what resources and skills she had currently than start immediately branching out.
That left Time.
UMP45 glanced down at the lasso and with a bit of hesitation, grabbed and coiled it around her wrist. She stretched it out but much to her surprise unlike before, the lasso didn't stretch out infinitely.
"What?"
It was definitely capable of reaching some of the furthest stars but it wasn't as far as the first time.
Had something changed? Was she imagining things? Or was it like this before?
Maybe.
She hadn't been paying much attention to her second appearance here, being a bit mad. The third time, one of the stars practically threw itself at her. But she swore it could stretch out infinitely.
Verdamnt! It'd take a long while for her to figure out how this… all worked.
Whatever. She'll just note down this change and figure it out when she's less stressed.
Turning to face the Time constellation, she hurled it onto one of the many stars, it took a bit more effort than before as if it was slightly further away. The glowing rope wrapped around the star, UMP45 tightened her hold on the luminary as it did its best to escape.
She dug her feet into the ground and pulled, yanking the star closer as it resisted her every step of the way. It yanked her forward, nearly making her fall flat on her face, and she swore she could hear it let out an evil laugh of delight.
But eventually. She caught it and became a Workaholic.
UMP45 had immediately gotten to work with great fervour. Workaholic would change everything. It was mass production on a ridiculous scale for a single person. If only she'd gotten it before making the Protectron!
Through some means, she could now turn one automaton into five of them or upscale it to three times its original size!
How? Even the knowledge implanted into her digimind didn't even know!
All she knew is that she was going to take advantage of this. Hard.
The only 'drawback' would be that it doesn't actually reduce the time it takes for her to build something. Well… actually, it could be argued it does in a way since she can now just make five in the same timeframe as making one.
Whatever, she just wanted to build something.
And that something was a F.E.T.C.H. It was easy, considering how she had already picked up a destroyed dinergate. And everything about them was simple. A dinergate was more advanced than they were. But if anything, they were closer to actual dogs than dinergates at least in design.
And that meant it could be marketable.
Humans naturally sought out companionship, either in the form of a T-Doll or more 'traditionally' with pets. However with the way the world had turned out, real animals had fallen out of fashion for a vast majority of families. Only the wealthy really had pets.
And Griffin & Kryuger for some odd reason. Something about conservation that she didn't really care to learn about.
Anyways, there wasn't really anything special about the F.E.T.C.H Collectron besides its recharging station's design. And she was referring to its outward design rather than its internals. She just had to redo the wiring and improve the minor software improvements. Just minor improvements. Simple enough.
F.E.T.C.H Collectrons were designed around fusion cores as was all of RobCo's technology.
The only real problem was her having to cut out her scrap parts into the right shape. But after shaping the Protectron's armor plating, it was a cinch in comparison. With some hand tools from her Workshop, she was able to start with hammering and forming using a mallet. A controlled strike here and there and some manual bending with her hands, and she was able to get the outer shell of the Collectron.
Some quick sanding to smoothen out the edges, so that idiotic humans wouldn't accidentally cut themselves from attempting to hug or pet a Collectron. It still looked a bit rough considering it was a bit of a rush job but it was good enough.
The internals were also pretty simple. Actuators in the legs, wiring all throughout, and a… motor.
Wait, she didn't have a small enough motor. The dinergate's was destroyed alongside its main core.
She could make one. She definitely could. Did she want to right now? A little bit.
But she was also feeling a bit lazy. The reason he didn't want to make a stun lance was because she didn't want to go through a lot of testing and redesigns.
She could go out and buy a motor somewhere but that'd use up the few credits that she's been keeping as a backup fund to use for rent.
UMP45 sighed, "Just consider it an investment." She told herself as she left her pocket dimension. Maybe if she said it enough times she'd maybe believe it.
My, living like a human was exhausting and it hasn't been even a week since she started.
UMP45 wasn't looking forward to interacting with even more of them.
Hmm… But maybe her roommate could do something for her. It had a low chance of actually doing anything for her, but she might as well ask…
Closing the bathroom door behind her, she grabbed her jacket off a coat hanger and put it on over her white. It was a different one from her usual clothing considering she still needed to clean out the blood. It was still dark enough for her tastes though, being obsidian black. The new skirt she was wearing matched pretty well, being a slightly lighter shade of gray.
A swift glance at her reflection to make sure she was decently presentable, UMP45 walked out of her room into the shared kitchen where her roommate was currently napping on the table. Strange, she'd have thought Nevena wouldn't have let her guard down around her.
UMP45 cleared her throat, or at least mimicked the human action, to get her roommate's attention. The Ukranian woman blearily woke up, rubbing her eyes before realizing UMP45 was standing close by.
UMP45 tilted her head to the side with a small smile, "I just wanted to let you know I'm heading out."
"Oh." Nevena seemed confused, "Alright." The woman hesitated for a moment before asking something, "Did you need something from me or did you just want to wake me up before you left?"
"No, I was just about to ask you if you wanted something from the supermarket." UMP45 dryly remarked. When Nevena still seemed confused, her smile fell, "Yes, I do need something." She said flatly.
Nevena flinched and sat up straight on her cheap, plastic chair.
"Do you know someone that may sell some surplus gear? And be willing to buy some themself?" UMP45 drawled.
Nevena thought about it for a moment. The brunette bit her lip, "Maybe? It's been a while though."
"Oh?" UMP45 walked a bit closer to Nevena as her smile returned, "Do tell."