Chapter 22 New Threads
Mars / 2710
Diving low into the ruined city, an Armored Core was on the hunt. Search and destroy.
Skidding to a stop, the bipedal Third Gen AC stood up to it's full height, and was fired on by distant Muscles Tracers down the street. Rasing their heavy laser rifle, the AC fired several massive blue bolts of energy, that tore the fragile MTs apart.
With that threat eliminated, the bipedal AC turned to look for it's target.
It didn't have to go far, as a tetrapod AC boosted onto the street behind the bipedal one, and leveled a heavy laser cannon on it's back. The massive cannon charged, and fired a super-heated purple bolt of energy that caught the bipedal AC in the right arm holding the laser rifle, and tore it off.
Left momentarily staggered, the bipedal AC warmed up their thrusters, and went on the attack. It did not matter that it was at a severe disadvantage now. It had it's mark, and it perused it without restraint.
The tetrapod AC saw the attack coming, and opened fire with dual machine guns and it's back mounted missile launcher. The bipedal AC weaved between the missiles, and fired back with it's own back mounted missiles, causing the tetrapod to stagger back, and prime another shot from it's laser cannon.
With the bipedal closing rapidly, the tetrapod AC aimed it's laser cannon, and fired. The bipedal AC dodged away at the last second, slipping to the right of the tetrapod, and armed it's laser blade, cutting it's right arm off in return. Caught in it's flank, the bipedal then kicked the tetrapod through a wall, and fired more missiles to stun the machine.
The tetrapod fell to the ground, recovering just as the bipedal reacquired it's target. The tetrapod AC could only open fire desperately with it's remaining machinegun, shots going wide even as the bipedal approached down a straight line, laser blade primed.
The bipedal AC decapitated the tetrapod AC, cutting off it's main sensor suite.
A roaring crowd of ten million people cheered, thrilled at the sight of high speed, armored combat. This was not an abandoned and war-torn city. This was the Olympus Colosseum, a vast and wide megastructure designed to host arena combat between Armored Cores.
With the match concluded, the two ACs raised their remaining arms, and shook them high in the air, earning another cheer from the crowd as they too pumped their arms in celebration.
Done encouraging the crowds, the two ACs retreated to the colosseum hangar, the gladiators dismounting.
The Gladiator exited her machine, the bipedal AC, and started inspecting the damage to the right arm, frowning all the while.
"Cocky little shit aren't you?" The other Gladiator, Emily Babbage, a reservist in the Martian Navy commented with a sneer as she approached.
The Gladiator regarded her previous opponent. The Martian was a much shorter blonde woman with short hair pulled back in a ponytail. Smiling widely, The Gladiator mocked back. "You blinked is all. Took advantage of that and took your head."
Emily went for a punch, which The Gladiator dodged, going for a chokehold on the shorter woman. In response, Emily went for an elbow to The Gladiator's ribs. They went back and forth for a few seconds, and stopped when they were both laughing on the floor.
"Ha!" Emily smiled, she stood and helped The Gladiator to her feet. "Come on, you remember the deal. Winner buys the next round of drinks!"
"Ah!" The Gladiator took Emily's hand, and stood up. "Damn, oh well."
"You know I was reluctant at first, getting into the colosseum, but I'm glad you sent the offer. It's been fun catching up since you left the Navy." Emily chatted as she walked beside The Gladiator.
"It's not a forever gig." The Gladiator shrugged. "Maybe I'll give it another year, but then I wanted to try my hand at slingshot racing."
"Slingshot racing!?" Emily balked with wide eyes. "Oh hell na! No way am I going to get into that!" She shook her head. "Those hard gravity turns going down wells are one thing, but have you seen some of those ships? They're a beer can with a rocket attached!"
"Oh yeah, looks dangerous as hell!" The Gladiator jumped with excitement at the idea. "Figure I'll do a couple of warm up runs falling through the Jovian system, before I do a long haul race."
"A full system race?!" Emily raised her eyebrows questionably. "You know there's no pit stop on those races, right? You're going to have to drink your own piss to survive."
"Filtered piss, but yes." The Gladiator confirmed.
"But Belter made filters?" Emily shook her head. "I hope you like your water yellow."
"Yeah, it kinda sucks." The Gladiator confirmed. "Still, a long tour across Sol, a year on the float and keeping all those billions of people at the edge of their seats sounds exciting. Plus, there's the hours I'll spend in hard G turns, being flung from well to well."
"Ugh, I don't get the appeal of the sport." Emily dismissed. "Come on, let's get wasted."
"Sure thing, friend." The Gladiator skipped after her.
Jupiter – High Orbit / 2799
The only word to best describe the most recent battle was a clusterfuck. A desperate sacrifice that saw the destruction of nearly the entire Jupiter defense fleet for five Laconian ships. Thousands of lives traded to save a major colonized hub of Sol and the millions of people living in the moons and stations around the gas giant.
The engineers were still patching holes from PDC rounds in her ship, as the Rear-Admiral stood at the edge of the airlock. She was technically standing on the wall, with the ship on the float, so that she could look down into the airlock and the lone occupant floating within.
"Captain Babbage of the former Wind of Change, of the Laconian Imperial Navy." The Rear-Admiral sneered.
Emily smiled up at her, blood in her mouth. "Congratulations on your promotion, Admiral."
"Only cause you and your lot keep killing my superiors." The Rear-Admiral noted tiredly.
"True, but after you, who's left?" Emily mocked. "Admiral Souther could only hold out for so long. I wonder how long you'll last. It won't be long till this war is over."
"Your vanguard is locked in combat at the border worlds, chasing a fleet of Spatial Arms Forts across the gulf of space, and that damn undying butcher." The Rear-Admiral summarized. "Plus, I've been doing pretty good against your fleet these last fifty years. Killin' Laconians is tedious…but not impossible, as we've proven once again."
"One day it's going to be a Laconian staring you down, and you'll be on your knees begging for mercy as we reclaim the homeworlds." Emily assured her.
"If I'm stuck in a no-win scenario, I'm going to ride the last torpedo I've got just so I can say I've taken as many of you fucking traitors with me to hell as I could." The Rear-Admiral retorted. "Just what the hell were you thinking, joining up with them, Captain?"
"I wanted to save humanity!" Emily declared. "I wanted to free humanity from the shackles imposed on us by those arrogant machines! Why should minds of metal and silicon decide the fate of humanity, dictate how we expand and behave? We needed to take back control over our own lives, and what we found on Laconia allowed us to do exactly that!"
"You talk of freeing humanity, but you're ruled by a dictator, an Emperor who cares not for the lives he destroys as he takes world after world." The Rear-Admiral accused.
"It's only right that an empire be led by an Emperor. Duarte's vision will bring peace and order to the cosmos!"
"By destroying sentient machine intelligences and subjugating all who would oppose you. Including Belters." The Rear-Admiral pointed out.
"Belters are by nature an unruly and chaotic collection of cast aways!" Emily shouted. "A thousand different tribes who'll just as soon turn on you and each other if they haven't already."
"Martians have always hated Belters for being a force that refused to yield to their might."
"And Belters always hated us for building our dream of terraforming Mars!"
"…By stealing all the water from Ceres." The Rear-Admiral hissed.
"Why do you love them so? Machines and Belters? They are not your people, not your flesh?" Emily accused.
"Mmm, technically I'm station-born, which makes me an honorary Belter, and I was created by a machine intelligence messing with my parent's genome, and I had distant family who lived on Mars for a time, so I have no right to judge anyone. All of Sol is my people, and any who would hurt my people is my enemy." The Rear-Admiral answered.
"Then I hope that sentiment keeps you going, because any who does not bend the knee to the Laconian vision will answer with their lives!"
"…I have missed you, Emily." The Rear-Admiral expressed far more softly.
"…Yeah…" Emily shrugged. "Admittedly it's just not the same without your antics and your damn cheerful persona. Laconia is…a strict order. Stricter than Mars. You'd hate it even if you did believe in it."
"Well at least we can agree about something." The Rear-Admiral stressed with an amused smile.
"So…it's to be spaced then?" Emily noted the obvious.
"Consider it a kindness." The Rear-Admiral confirmed. "Machine integrations can be…messy. This is…thank you, for being my first friend when I joined the Martian Navy. And goodbye."
"Goodbye Admiral, and good hunting." Emily saluted. "I'll be sure to keep a spot in hell warm for you."
"And I'll be sure to visit, sooner…or later."
The Rear Admiral closed the inner airlock door, then, after a moment, opened the outer airlock door.
There was a very light nudge on Emily as the air was released from the room, causing her to slowly float out of the ship. She held a stoic expression, doing everything she could to die with a bit of dignity.
But there was no dignity in death.
The Rear-Admiral kept watch as Emily tumbled slowly out of the ship, and joined her countrymen out in the black, floating silently for the rest of time.
Rubicon III - Grid 086 - Independent Mercenary Hangars – Western Belius / Monday, Claudius 3rd, 3175
It was a new sensation, and not one that was particularly welcoming. Hard metal limbs intertwined with hers, and just slightly uncomfortably warm.
"…" 621 gave a long, tired sigh as she stared down at the sleeping heads of V, Uzi, and N as they held onto her greedily and desperately. Especially how V seemed…far more content than she was previously, feeling safe enough in the arms of her friends and master.
There was a tiny, greedy part of 621 that just wanted to lay here all day, and hold these sad little things close. To forget who and what she was, what they were, and where they were…
Another, more responsible part of her decided to get moving, to keep this kind of thing from happening ever again to any of them. And that was something that required work.
"…Alright, time to wake up kids." 621 groaned, pushing them off herself as she sat up. She rolled out of the bed and stretched briefly.
"Ugh…do we have to?" Uzi asked, quite tiredly.
"Yep, come on." 621 demanded. "I've got some stuff I want you to do today."
"Ah…more work?" N wondered hesitantly.
"Not quite." 621 clarified. "Think I'm going to take you lot on a shopping spree."
"A…shopping spree?" V cocked her head curiously.
"Mmm. I need to update your kit further" 621 explained. "Not to mention, I don't think you're keen on giving me that coat back, are you V?"
"Ah…" V held onto the coat she was wearing tightly.
"It's fine." 621 assured her. "But I think you'll want a bit more than just that coat, won't you?"
"…Yeah." V agreed after a moment of thought. "Yes please."
"Think about what you want. I'm going to make a call." 621 told them. She then turned away to make that call.
"Oh, it's just you, tourist." Carla greeted unusually curtly. "Looking for work? Sorry to disappoint, but nothing's come up today."
"Actually, I wanted to ask for a favor." 621 spoke up. "I wanted to update my Stray's clothes and kit."
"…You know, that's not a bad idea." Carla nodded, suddenly more energized. "Sounds like fun. Alright! Make them send me a list of what they want, then come on over in a few hours. And, while you're here, we might as well go over this whole Doll mystery shit."
"I look forward to it." 621 responded flatly. She cut the line and turned back to the Strays. "Alright kids, consider this a personal request. Send Carla a list of anything you need. New clothes, weapons, tools, anything. Then we'll go over in a few hours and pick it up, got it?"
"Oh…yes ma'am." Stray Squad confirmed.
Grid 086 – Reuse and Development Headquarters
"Hey there little cuties!" Carla greeted excitedly towards Stray Squad. "I've got your requests off here to the side. While you're trying on your new stuff, your Hound and I are going to have a little discussion. Anyhow, don't keep me waiting, I can't wait to see how you look!"
"Thank you, Miss Carla." V nodded appreciatively.
"Oh, and one thing Specter, someone came out to see you as well." Carla then gestured for someone to enter the room, prompting another Disassembly Drone forward.
"J? What are you doing here?" N wondered with Uzi by his side. As they watched, J ran over to V, and pulled her into a tight hug.
"V!" J cried. "I'm sorry V! I'm so sorry that happened to you!" The former leader held V almost uncomfortably tight.
"…J…" V whispered gently. "Did…did the same thing happen to you?"
"…K-Kinda…" J shrugged. "The difference was I was…repurposed…so it wouldn't hurt as much. But it was still so weird and disgusting and…if Tessa hadn't found me…pulled me out of there…I don't know how long I would have lasted like that."
"I…see…" V trailed off, hugging herself.
"I heard about what your master did." J added. "I'm…glad, that she worked so hard to make it right."
"…Nothing will ever 'make it right.'" V countered. "But I too appreciate what she did. Showing me how she cared."
"…Well! Go get changed! I'm also curious to see what you will be wearing from now on!" J encouraged, slowly pushing V towards the impromptu changing room Carla had set up near her office. Pulling a curtain to give herself some privacy, V found the change of clothes she'd requested from Carla.
For the longest time, V had only worn a short jacket, that covered her shoulders and chest. She had never even considered that the rest of herself might be considered "naked" by human standards. She thought she looked cool, like a punk biker girl or something along those lines. And among Worker Drones or other Disassembly Drones, that was true.
She thought otherwise now, and felt far more vulnerable.
Reluctantly parting with 621's coat for a moment, V slipped on a white pair of shorts, and a new cropped black jacket. Over her shorts, she added a loose-fitting black skirt that extended to just above her knees. Then she put 621's coat back on over it all, leaving it open in the front now that she had clothes on again.
She would have liked to have worn some shoes as well, but the shape of her legs discouraged that. Without feet, shoes would eventually fall off her legs doing anything more complicated than walking slowly. Also, she wouldn't be able to balance well in them.
One last item that V had asked Carla for was a set of round rim glasses. Slipping them on her face, V looked at herself in a mirror.
"…" It had been a long time since V had seen herself. She smiled simply, and twirled happily, just like the innocent little Worker she used to be.
She stopped cold and saddened. She was no longer that little Worker Drone. Her innocence stripped from her violently, over and over. First on Laconia, becoming this…thing, a twisted mockery of what she was, cursed with insatiable hunger. And again on Rubicon, forced down screaming and made to suffer terrible indignity and shame.
V started to cry quietly, feeling that she could never again have innocence or happiness. Just horror and terror and pain.
"V…?"
"Mmm!?" V turned around quickly, taking off her glasses, and wiping the "tears" off her face. Uzi had worriedly wandered into the room, averting her gaze shamefully.
"O-Oh…" Uzi frowned, both worried and interested. "Are you okay V?"
"…No…" V admitted. "I just…I just feel like I've lost a part of myself forever. And…it hurts that I can never go back."
"That's…" Uzi looked off sadly. "I don't know what happened to you, only that it was worse than anything I can imagine."
"…" V nodded, not looking at Uzi.
"But…that event didn't change who you are V. To me, you're still that kinda crazy and confident Murder Drone who…I sorta kinda look up to?" Uzi phrased it as a question to avoid sounding like praise. "Cause you're like the most awesome Drone I've ever met. Just awesome and pretty and uh…tall."
"…Thanks…Uzi…" V smiled a little happily again, then stopped as she thought about what Uzi said. "Wait…'pretty?'"
"Uh…y-yeah!" Uzi shouted unconfidently. "But like in a completely platonic way! Just one girl to another, you know!?"
"Hmm, sure~!" V teased. "And you're always going to be a cute little Worker~!"
"I'm not cute!" Uzi shouted back, but wasn't really upset. She decided to change the subject. "So uh…nice glasses."
"Oh…thanks." V looked at the glasses in her hand. "This is just something for myself. I wanted to…try and remember how I looked before."
"Well, can I see?" Uzi requested curiously.
"…Okay, fine." V relented, and reluctantly slipped the glasses back onto her face.
"Oh…!" Uzi smiled widely. "You know what? You're really cute like that!"
"What!?" V recoiled at the idea. "M-Me?! C-Cute?!"
"Yeah! Totally!" Uzi assured her. "You should wear them more often!"
"I…" V paused, considering it. "…Maybe…only sometimes then. Okay?"
"Great!" Uzi nodded. Then, she remembered something she'd been neglecting to do. "Hey uh…V?"
"Yeah Uzi?" V turned towards Uzi, realizing she wanted to say something.
"I uh…wanted to thank you." Uzi rubbed her arm awkwardly and somberly. "We went through a lot of bad shit that day…you more than anyone. And…I know that you saved my life twice. So thank you V for like…not letting me die."
Uzi was surprised when V lifted her up, and held her close.
"We're stuck on this shithole together. I'm not going to let the only interesting Worker I've ever met die. You're too cool. Plus…" V trailed off, and whispered. "Keeping you alive…makes that pain worth it."
"…!" Uzi hugged V back tightly.
After a minute, V let Uzi down, smiling.
"Come on, you look great. Let's show everyone, okay?" Uzi tugged on V's sleeve, urging her forward.
"…Alright." V nodded once.
"So, that little Drone gave you more trouble than you imagined?" Carla inquired.
"…Yeah." 621 grunted. "She could manipulate objects, materialize them into existence, and could even heal like a Disassembly Drone."
"And yet, if Lizzy is to be believed, she lived peacefully in Uzi's colony on Copper IX for nearly two decades without incident…until something changed." Carla noted. "Why did she go after V?"
"For what other reason? Revenge." 621 declared. "Father always said that out of any reason to kill someone, revenge is always the messiest, because unless you're willing to clean house, from top to bottom, you'll just be trapped in a cycle of death. On one hand, I can't fault the little thing for wanting justice for her slain family. On the other hand…"
"Killing V would just piss you off, and then you'd hunt that little Drone to the end of the world." Carla summarized. "Yeah, I get it. And the only alternative is to either move on, and accept that someone close to you died, or to forgive their killer, neither of which can be easy to stomach. So, which is the right answer, tourist?"
"There is no right answer." 621 answered. "But…the more organized the kill, the higher up the chain of decisions you go, the easier a course of action becomes. Command decisions coldly demanding death are much easier to condemn than ignorant triggermen forced to do their bidding."
"Yeah, but that's a tall order. Wiping out whole organizations just to justify vengeance for a few personal deaths?" Carla questioned.
"It's happened before."
"Ah, you're talking about The League, yes?"
"…Yeah." 621 confirmed reluctantly.
"You know what interests me the most?" Carla went back on topic. "Not the whole wacky space magic thing, we can write that off as Laconian tech that no one understands. No what interests me is how she healed just like a Disassembly Drone."
"You think they are related?" 621 wondered.
"I think whatever technology or function that works in Disassembly Drones for their healing somehow found it's way into Doll. And that's why she was cannibalizing her own kind."
621 turned to regard Carla more intently. "So she needed the extra oil as coolant to function?"
"Even with her little reality bending powers, the one law of physics she is still bound to is thermodynamics." Carla declared. "I did some minor stress testing with J yesterday, and my theory holds up there. Tell me, tourist, exactly how are Disassembly Drones able to heal from their wounds?"
"…I imagine it has something to do with repair nanites, like how we perform emergency repairs on ACs mid-combat." 621 answered.
"You would think." Carla disagreed. "From what I've been able to test, it's actually a quantum soup of stray subatomic particles that then condenses and reformats itself into the material that makes up a Drone, which is just common metals and polymers."
"…"
"Yeah, I see that funky eyed look you're giving me. It doesn't exactly make sense, does it?" Carla noted. "The diluted state of matter that coalesces itself on Disassembly Drones in order to heal them exist at only one point in time, after the heat death of the universe."
"And that won't happen for another thirty-three trillion-trillion years." 621 realized.
"Yeah…it's something of an impossibility. Where exactly are they getting this matter to heal themselves with?" Carla wondered quietly.
"…" 621 didn't have an answer. "While that's interesting, I have a question of my own."
"Oh? Shoot." Carla listened carefully.
"How was V able to evade her attackers and get back to my hangar?" 621 quietly hissed.
"Ah…" Carla trailed off. "You didn't ask her?"
"I'd prefer not to."
"Mmm, fair." Carla shrugged. "I think…well, she's a very rare kind of Drone, hardly ever seen during the war, and not until after the fall of Laconia. So rare that none had ever been to Rubicon before her and her's ended up here in August. I think that knowledge of Disassembly Drone healing abilities is not widely known, and her attackers simply assumed that she was a more humanoid Jenson model android, and left her to die when they were…finished." Carla hissed as she stopped talking. "So, in a way, she lucked out."
"…"
"Ah…sorry. Poor choice of words." Carla corrected herself. "Oh, look, here she comes!"
Uzi led a reluctant but slightly more confident V back to Carla's office, where everyone saw how she'd changed up.
"Oh, V! You look great!" N cheered, smiling happily.
"Well that's different, but it looks good, V." J praised as well, nodding to her.
"T-Thanks guys." V sheepishly smiled.
"Oh Specter, you are gorgeous!" Carla cried out. "Ah, but you know what, you just need a little something more…don't you think tourist?"
"…Hmm." 621 nodded. Then she and Carla started looking through a few piles of fabric to find something for V.
"Okay, this should do nicely for here!" Carla tied a yellow bandana around V's left arm, taking the place of her old arm band.
"Yeah…that is good, thank you Miss Carla." V nodded up to the older woman.
"…" 621 silently wrapped a red length of fabric around V's neck like a scarf. "There, how is that, setara?"
"…!" V tugged on the scarf happily, and smiled up at the Hound. "T-Thank you…Raven."
"Nice V. Honestly, I think you look great." J tugged on her own coat for emphasis. "Anyway, I have to go. Corralling Worker Drones is just so difficult when I'm not allowed to kill them. See you later!" J had only come to see V, so she left as soon as she knew that her former squad mate would be alright.
"Okay! So, Sparky, Sheperd, why don't you go try on your new stuff?" Carla suggested excitedly.
"Uh? Do we really have to? I think we're fine enough as is." Uzi complained.
"Uzi…please just grab something to…cover yourself up a bit more." V requested urgently.
"Eh…it seems a bit much." Uzi shrugged. "I think me and N are fine the way we-"
"Uzi please!"
Uzi flinched, hearing V angry for the first time. But it was more than anger. It was fear, first and foremost, that filled her scream.
"Okay…okay…" Uzi relented. "I'll…find a nice skirt or something."
"I'll um…gets some pants?" N shrugged, worried and distressed as well.
"Alright…come on little ones. I'll help you pick something out." Carla pulled N and Uzi away, leaving V with 621 for the moment.
"Uzi…what had V so worried?" N wondered sadly. "Why does she want us wearing more clothes?"
"I…I don't know." Uzi frowned. "But…it's a small change, and it seems like it will ease her."
Neither Uzi nor N understood the need to wear more clothes than they were already wearing. N's coat covered him almost entirely, and Uzi's jacket covered both her chest and hips. But surely, neither of them had anything more to hide? N's hips were a narrower, masculine variant of the female Disassembly Drone hips, and his legs were something of an in-between, as he had feet like a Worker Drone, but his legs were solid metal, as opposed to the segmented metal of a Worker Drone.
Uzi could count the number of Worker Drones she knew that wore pants that covered up their bottom on one hand. It was their most inhuman feature, their hips; a white cylinder with a flat bottom, from which two narrow legs extended vertically from. It was such a featureless, meaningless area, that Drones made no effort to cover it up. It meant nothing to them.
"So, you two didn't send me any requests for clothes, so I threw something minimalist together just for you guys, alright?" Carla presented N and Uzi with new clothes. For N, it was a pair of black pants and a pair of boots. For Uzi, it was a short, plaid skirt, and black shorts.
"Uh, thank you Miss Carla." N nodded appreciatively. He took the clothes and went to go change.
"Thanks…" Uzi nodded as well, still confused. "Miss Carla, why do you and V want us wearing this stuff? It's…not so much disagreeable, as it is confusing."
"Well…" Carla sat in front of Uzi, changing her stance as to not talk down to her. "It's something of a human sensibility, to tell you the truth." Carla explained slowly. "You know how humans have weird bits that we intentionally hide from just about everyone?"
"You mean your genitals?" Uzi cocked her head in confusion. "But Worker Drones and Murder Drones don't have genitals."
"Yes, that is true." Carla slowed down, approaching the subject as delicately as she could without scaring the little Drone. "But…it would make myself and your master, and your little friend feel much more secure if you were hiding the same areas as we humans do."
"That's…weird." Uzi frowned. "But I mean…if it would make you weirdo's feel better, then I guess I don't mind."
Taking the clothes into one of Carla's improvised changing rooms, Uzi slipped on the short skirt and shorts. It didn't change how she looked too much. She already had a fuzzy part at the end of her jacket that "sort of" looked like a skirt, and the skirt that Carla got her wasn't much longer than what the cheerleaders at her school would wear, extending down past her jacket another inch. She then slipped the shorts on underneath, and hid the flat metal plate that comprised her bottom.
With that weird little detail out of the way, Uzi stepped out, and found Carla complementing N on his new clothes. Uzi was admittedly a little jealous, as N's pants and boots made him look even cooler than he already did.
"Ah, there, was that so bad, Sparky?" Carla smiled up at her. "You're just so adorable!"
"Yeah yeah." Uzi shrugged, trying to hide her appreciation of Carla's compliments. "Um…thank you Miss Carla."
"It's no problem, Sparky. And trust me Shepard, you look great too." Carla praised N.
"Ah, thank you Miss Carla." N nodded appreciatively.
"Come here, V." 621 held her hands towards the little android.
"Uh, why?" V questioned but did as she was told.
"Now, step up." 621 pulled V along until she was forced to stand on a crate that raised her knees up to 621's face. "I'm going to hem up the coat to make it fit better."
"Oh…thank you Raven." V smiled as 621 went to work fixing the coat.
While 621 worked, V decided to look up more information about the Hound. First she put in the term "Admiral 'Stonewall of Sol'" into the local data network. She was disappointed by how brief a summary she received.
Subject: Admiral "Stonewall of Sol"
DOB: Unknown, 2662
DOD: Unknown
POB: Shilage Castle, Geosynchronous Earth Orbit
Bio: The Fleet Admiral of the Sol Defense Fleet from 2799 to 3027, they gained their title through a valiant and steward defense of the Sol System, protecting Mercury, Earth, Mars, and the Belt from numerous Laconian incursions and invasions. Their unbreakable defense allowed an assault fleet of several Spatial Arms Forts to fight on the front lines without restraint, and is ultimately credited with having helped win the Sol-Laconia War.
While it certainly gave some interesting information, it didn't answer any of her questions. V had only one other lead to consider, and looked up the name of "Klein." Once again, she was disappointed to find there was only one entry, and definitely the wrong person to boot. She read each line of information as they appeared anyway.
Subject: James "Strayed" Klein
DOB: Unknown, 2432
DOD: Unknown
POB: North American Contingency, Earth
Bio: Stop looking for me, V.
"…!" V flinched hard and closed her hand terminal in a panic. What the fuck was that?!
"Hmm, you good?" 621 looked up from her work. She was nearly done hemming up the coat.
"Uh, yep!" V nodded a little too desperately. "Just…" She quickly calmed herself down as best she could, staring down at the woman appreciatively. "T-Thanks for everything, Raven. Everything you've done…it really means a lot to me."
"Just doing what's right is all." 621 assured her. "Hold still, I'm almost done here." She finished and stood up, holding her hand out to help V down off the crate. "Now, how does that feel?"
V flexed her legs a bit, finding the slightly shortened coat easier to move in. Now instead of nearly dragging on the ground, the coat reached down to just below her knees. "It's perfect!"
"Hmm, good." 621 smiled. "Now, I have one more thing for you." She took the handgun off her thigh holster, and held it out for V. "I'd like for you to have this gun."
"…?" V took the gun curiously, holding it with her finger off the trigger. She noticed an inscription on the side, manufacturing data. It was worn down with time, but was still easily legible.
GLOCK 90
2035
"This weapon…is something of a family heirloom." 621 explained. "So…you can keep it."
"Really Raven? Are you sure?" V felt a little bad, taking so much from the Hound. Her war metal, her coat, her gun. Why was 621 so comfortable giving these things away to her?
"It's no problem. Besides, I plan on seeing if Carla has some good replacement weapons for myself." 621 assured her. "And it looks like she's finished outfitting your friends as well."
Besides the minimal changes to N and Uzi's clothes, they also had backpacks with some basic supplies they might need, and an extra backpack for V. On top of that, they were also now armed with their own handguns, with Uzi having a holster on her hip and N on his thigh.
"Hey, you guys look great." V complimented.
"Aww, thanks V. You look great too!" N smiled.
"Uh thanks…even if we didn't change all that much." Uzi shrugged.
"Alright, go run along for a bit. I've got some stuff to buy from Carla myself." 621 ordered her Strays.
"Yes ma'am!" Uzi, N, and V answered, leaving the room.
"So what do I owe you?" 621 questioned.
"For them, nada." Carla shook her head. "All their kits are on the house. Just cause I like them all so. You on the other hand are lucky we're still doing business."
"Mmm." 621 shrugged. "I need some new handguns. I'll take a .38 snub nose if you have it, thought I might shove it in my boot."
"Got it, that will be a thousand." Carla nodded. "Anything else I can get you, tourist?"
"What do you have in hand cannons?" 621 requested.
"Well, how about a .357 Magnum?" Carla suggested. "The classic 'Are you feeling lucky, punk?' six-shooter, maximum power for it's size-"
"No wheel guns." 621 shook her head. "Something mag fed, and when I say, 'hand cannon' I mean a hand cannon. I want to hunt MTs if I have to…or wupos."
"Ah, gotcha…" Carla nodded excitedly. "When then there is only one solution to your problem."
Carla pulled out a massive handgun that looked more like a one-handed rifle, with a terrifying wide barrel. "Malarian Arms 3516. Fires custom three inch, 14.9mm armor-piercing, high-explosive shells. Just point and delete. You like it? That will be fifty thousand Coam."
"…I'll take it." 621 hissed excitedly.
After purchasing her new weapons, 621 met back with her squad of Strays, leading them back to their hangar.
"Carla was saying that I may have…inadvertently frightened the Coyotes away yesterday. But they'll probably be back tomorrow. That means we have another day to rest up." 621 let them know.
"Oh, good." V sighed. "Another day of rest sounds good."
"Yeah, we'll like hang out or do some menial work or whatever." Uzi shrugged. "How's that sound N?"
"Sounds like it will be an easy night then." N nodded. "Let's be sure to rest up so we can fight our best tomorrow!"
"Good way to think, N." 621 assured him. "I imagine tomorrow will be just a bit hectic."
"Well, no other way to make loads of scrip except through hard work." Uzi noted.
"…" V still wanted to know more about 621. Who she was before. What drove her to act the way she did. And a new mystery, that mysterious man who shared her last name. "Raven? I have a question?"
"Hmm? What is it, V?"
"Well…" V hesitated a little. "What do you know about someone who had the title of 'Strayed-'"
"Do NOT invoke the name of the World Eater!" 621 screamed in rage. She turned to stare down at V with dangerous, hate filled eyes. Her voice changed then, growing somber and filled with dread. "It knows what you fear, and takes pleasure in every life it ends."
"…!" Uzi, V, and N were rightfully fearful of that outburst, and the accompanying warning.
"…" 621 sighed, and fell to her knees before V, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Listen…there are terrors and evils that exist in this universe that you should rightfully fear, and that thing is number one at the top of that list, far above all else. It is relentless and terrible and insatiable, and will go through the guilty and the innocent all the same with vicious savagery. And if you ever have the misfortune of standing against it, then just run. Run…and pray that you are not worth it's attention. Otherwise…you will know fear and pain beyond your wildest imagination, as it delights in tearing you apart."
621 stood up, and held V close, rubbing her head almost for comfort. Whether that was to comfort herself or V…was uncertain. "Promise me that you will never utter that name again. Not if you value your sanity…and your soul."
"I…I promise Raven." V uttered stiffly.
"…Thank you." 621 let V go, and slowly shambled away, placing her hand against a wall to steady herself.
She could feel the thing with too many eyes in it's teeth stalking her in her shadow, always closer despite how far she ran.
"V…what was that about?" Uzi asked hesitantly after 621 was far enough away.
"Yeah…she seemed genuinely afraid of…whoever that name was?" N pointed out worriedly.
"I don't know…" V uttered despondently. "But…I get the impression that she knows more than most about who that name is."
Author's Note: That concludes the very controversial "V got hurt" arc of this story. While it's true she's never going to really be okay with that, I wouldn't have accepted leaving her hurt and terrorized, I wanted to make sure she got the help she needed from her friends and 621. A big part of my inspiration for this arc was, well, the obvious oversexualized interest in the characters throughout the fandom. While I have no issue with people's depraved interest for these characters, I felt that, due to their design and immaturity, all the Drones would be horrified and disgusted by how humans might express their interest in them, and that came out in these last couple of chapters. As well, it was a way to get V and 621 to get closer to each other, despite the reluctance on 621's part. The relationship of the main characters is going to be critical in this story.
I'm still technically not done with chapter 26, but I plan on finishing it today. It's sort of looking like it will be my second longest chapter ever. I expect chapter 27 to be shorter than usual, and chapter 28 to be another short but original chapter. Chapter 29 will then be back to business and be an actual Armored Core mission. I'm very excited with what this story has to offer.
Oh...It seems James and Strayed aren't quite done with us. And...more terrifyingly...it seems James knows V, somehow.
Anyway, stay tuned for the next two chapters that finish act two! And remember mi beratnas, abide with Rubicon!
To magenta skelter: I will say that you are not far off. It's maybe simpler than you imagine. I will also say that Ayre is, more or less, being ALLOWED by Strayed to occupy 621's mind. Probably because it knows that Ayre is not a threat to 621.
To ChimaTigon: I know. It seems like it could be a rather short story that can conclude by next the next episode, but I just want more time with my cute and favorite little Drones. Part of that want is why I am writing this story, so that I can see them struggling and surviving in my own little universe that I have created for them. So even if Murder Drones ends with episode 8 in a few months, I'm going to keep this story going for the next few years, and see it completed.
To endo-of-reading: You are right that it is making 621 immune to the AS. As far as 621 is concerned, based on her statements at the end of this chapter, she considers it the greatest threat in the universe.