The commander hung up the communication line, taking a silent moment to rub his eyes in frustration. Nothing was to go his way this week, first a missing patrol, then a direct mission from Helian tagged with the utmost urgency. It was a good thing he called a general muster before he started the briefing call with his superiors. They had been surveilling the site that Helian designated, but overland access was limited to one or two foot-mobiles the past two days- underground tunnels most likely. No floorplan or building blueprint existed in any archives for the sector. Not even damned power-grid information, if they were even running on external power. Drones sent in to scout went dead outside of the facility- scrambled by some sort of electro-magnetic field. Any assault into the facility would be like flying blind.
Unless they could find a work around in the next few hours, it was looking like this was a mission that had to be conducted by humans, at least the initial phase. As one of the few field commanders of G&K that had practical military experience, even if it was only time spent in partisan forces, of course the assignment would fall in his lap. Past sins coming back for him, as it were.
"Stack the deck in your favor." He grumbled, "Every piece positioned perfectly…"
"Commander, the strike team leaders are assembled and waiting in the briefing room." The soft, calm voice of G36 came from his office door, his adjutant standing at attention just as the maid protocols dictated her to be.
The commander ruffled his already ragged hair, much to his adjutant's displeasure, before pulling a thumb drive from his personal computer. He hadn't even bothered to throw on the annoyingly red coat and beret as demanded of G&K officers. He wanted nothing to do with G&K right now.
"Thirty-six." The commander spoke without turning, knowing full well his adjutant was close behind him, silently grumbling her master's lack of protocol, "What is your opinion on joint human-T-doll operations?"
"I would be thoroughly against such operations. It is our purpose as T-dolls to remove the need for humans in hazardous assignments." Of course G36 hadn't hesitated in her answer, it was practically hard-wired into her digi-mind.
"Ah, of course." The commander fiddled with the thumb drive in his pocket as they approached the briefing room. Quick, informal greetings to his team leaders that had gathered. Of the ten echelons the base -well, nine echelons currently- only four were considered for the strike team.
G36 had already set up the display and booted all the necessary programs, so all the commander needed was to plug the external drive in. The holographic display flashed to life in a dull, pale blue simulacrum from a satellite picture. A concrete plant and warehouses, formerly Sanvis Ferri, but cleared in previous combat operations.
"Patrols in the area have gone silent, both from our base, as well as independent G&K teams." The commander placed his hands into the display and stretched them wide, zooming the image. "We've narrowed the center of these disappearances to this warehouse area." On his verbal cue, G36 overlayed the patrol data, showing all last known positions in small, red dots. A clear ring of these red dots surrounded facility.
A hand went up, a young-looking T-doll with a defined scar down her eye- the leader of Echelon Three. She needn't ask for permission to speak, but she still demanded the floor for the moment, "Has there been any S.F. signals detected?"
"No. Nothing of their sort. If anything, what is most concerning is that there is nothing." The commander nodded to UMP45's question, though the veteran T-doll seemed dissatisfied by the answer.
A silence hung in the air, a hesitancy born from the commander. A mistake had been made that he didn't wish to air, but there was no longer any way to hide it.
"Team FN had been sent to investigate two days ago. The results of their scouting mission lined with coinciding reports from other commanders as well as central G&K staff." The commander danced around a particular worry he had, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth. "There is enough evidence to believe that this facility is a black market. Scrubbed T-Dolls, parts, and weapons." The commander sneered, flipping the image over a few of the surveillance photos for his teams to analyze, "Upon the discovery of it, IOP has contracted us to shut them down and seize anything that appears to be IOP proprietary design. We are also tasked with securing any Sangvis Ferri tech that they might have scavenged. Any civilians on site are to be flagged as criminal in nature and are to be subdued and detained for proper authorities."
T-Dolls were not soldiers. They were tools meant to battle the renegade Sangvis Ferri, and anything else that threatened the order of what they could call 'human society'. To send them after other humans was against their protocols. Was that why Team FN hadn't returned? T-doll were supposed to be disposable...
Then why did we make them look like us? Why did they have us empathize with them.
He had a problem over-empathizing with his soldiers before joining G&K. It was why he had to leave.
Yet here too, over empathizing again with machines.
Why did he send them? Why did it have to be them?
"Commander?" The soothing voice from G36, ever attentive to human emotions, had pulled him from the downward spiral. Wordlessly he thanked G36.
"From Team FN's last transmission, within the facility is an electro-magnetic field that scrambles or otherwise messes with electronics- a signal jammer in its most basic form but we have reason to believe that it may be stronger than that. We will be unable to send teams directly into the warehouse until the jammer is found and disabled."
The dolls attending the meeting immediately began murmuring, each having their own take on the mission, and each stumbling across the same bump. Only one had raised her hand.
"Yes, Zas?" The commander pointed to the lighting-blue haired doll, whom, while everyone else was excitedly chatting, was quietly studying the image of the area of operation.
"Can we cut power to the facility?" Her question was logical, rational as expected from this particular doll.
"We have no intelligence on wether or not it is a feasible course of action, but it is safer to assume that they do not rely on external power. Given the sudden arrival of this anomaly, it is believed that they are using a mobile generator of sorts." It was an unwanted answer, a delivery of bad news that made the commander wince. Zas, however, had not changed in her expression. If anything, she seemed… less concerned now?
"If no ground teams can enter the facility, does that mean a human will have to enter first?"
"Exactly that."
The commander's affirmation silenced the room. Before any could voice their concern, the commander capitalized on the newfound quiet.
"I will be personally taking the field." The protests to his declaration were instantaneous and fervent, but the commander quietly raised a hand for them to cease. "We will take as many precautions as possible."
"Permission to speak?" A small hand went up, a white-haired doll of thin stature- one could easily mistake her for anything but a heavy-duty machine-gun wielder.
"Granted."
The doll pulled the absurdly tall collar of her jacket farther down so that she could project her voice better. "What about tearing down a wall, or opening the warehouse gate? We can fire in from outside their bubble."
"It was initially considered, PKP, but the contract with IOP stipulates to minimize the amount of collateral damage, as well as take any prisoners we can for intelligence on this ring." The commander frowned, "The operation must be surgical, unfortunately." Bless the dolls for their concern, but some were not cut to be tacticians- in fact, only a select few had that processing capability.
"Forty-five-" The commander locked his eyes with the constantly calculating glare of UMP-45, those golden irises of hers ever unflinching as he spoke, "Yours will be the strike team that will breach when the jamming field is down."
Again, the other T-dolls began mumbling amongst themselves. The rumors surrounding the convenient arrival of "special" dolls from IOP following UMP-9's arrival. A suspicion always seemed to hang over the four "newbies", as they were anything but new. Despite that, the majority of the base had welcomed them with open arms, the commander included.
And perhaps most importantly, they earned their keep.
"This is a 'high-speed, low-drag' mission. Your team will drop with me. As we'll have to enter the area of the operation by foot and without drawing attention, no dummies."
To any other T-doll, the lack of dummies was a cause for concern. A massive reduction in firepower as well as great personal risk to the mainframe doll, but the commander knew that of all the teams under his command, UMP-45's thrived in difficult assignments with minimal oversight or instructions.
"Usual crowd, commander?"
"Purely your team. If you need Welrod's assistance on the insertion-"
"No need." UMP-45 smiled coldly, "We've been through that sector before, we have our routes. You can come along with us if you wish."
The commander nodded, having full faith in UMP-45's skills. His attentions turned to the other three team leads, each of whom looked as if their thunder had been stolen.
"Echelons Two and Four will be on overwatch positions, ensuring no one enters or exits the facility, or to greet S.F. if they decide they want their warehouse back." He tapped the image, highlighting the points where the other teams should deploy, "WA, spread your team out to ensure that you have good coverage of the north and west, though you are not cleared to engage unless your targets have definitive S.F. signatures. PKP, your team is covering south and east, your rules of engagement are the same as WA's team. Pass your data along as your run prep. Your teams are allowed fully dummy-support."
"I assume that means Echelon Five will be on rapid reaction for Echelon Three?" Zas waved off her displeasure at being "just" a backup.
"And standby for recovery if Team FN is found. Otherwise you will secure an immediate landing zone."
Concern for Echelon One, or perhaps the rational reasoning for her team's deployment to a mission that arguably didn't require them had smoothed Zas's ruffled feathers.
"That's all. Prep your teams for a light load and be ready at the hangar by twenty-two-hundred, you will depart an hour after us." He motioned for the dolls to dismiss themselves as he continued to stare at the hologram, "Forty-five, standby a moment."
"Yes, commander~?" Spoke in that poisonously sweet tone of hers, a smile wide upon that youthful mask. It was a cold expression, jarring for a face so young.
"The hostiles will be humans, most likely."
"That won't be a problem."
Hearing her dismissal of human life sent a chill through his spine. It was the reason why only 45's team could handle the assault. Having to give lethal overrides to all of his other echelons was certainly simpler when he was present on the field, but the cost...
"Commander~" 45's gaze was unblinking, her eyes glowing from the reflection of the hologram- but it was unsettling nonetheless.
"Yes, Fourty-five?"
"Am I to assume that we are going to be non-lethal-" She hissed those hated words, "-to maintain appearances?"
"At least two of your four on non-lethal methods. More for my safety until we regroup."
UMP-45 tipped her head, her expression unchanging from the dry, false smile.
"Whatever could you mean, commander?"
"Given your team's efficiency," he weighed his words carefully, knowing full well what this T-doll was capable of, "I would rather be secured in your company before real bullets start flying."
"Affirmative, commander. We will only use lethal force after regrouping…" 45 paused momentarily, her whole body seemingly frozen for just a second. "I requisitioned rubber bullets chambered in nine-millimeter and five-five-six, as well as tranquilizer injectors and zip-ties from Kalina. I assume this will be sufficient?"
The commander nodded.
"Then I look forward to seeing what you are capable of, commander~" 45 waved merrily as she exited the briefing room, but that haunting presence of hers still lingered.
The commander threw his hands down upon the display table, letting out his frustrations with a deep and troubled sigh.
"Master."
He went rigid in an instant, G36 still standing attentively by the computer. She had heard the exchange between he and 45 then-
"I can see that you are greatly troubled. Please, take a seat."
"Ah, Thirty-six, if you could kindly forget what you had just heard."
"I am afraid I am not granted those permissions. You will have to contact IOP-"
"I'm kidding. I trust you, Thirty-six."
G36 was not one for gossip- that itself was a valuable feature give how rumors on the base could spread as fast as a doll's neural-network connection would let them.
"I'm worried." He confessed. G36's expression lightened, though he was unsure of if it was because she was much closer in proximity to him now, or genuine empathy.
"We are all worried about our comrades." G36's reply was a logical answer to his statement, but it wasn't exactly what the commander meant. He sighed, taking the seat that G36 had pulled for him.
"I'm worried I'm putting too much on Forty-fives's team." Lethal protocols were not to be given lightly. It was an intrusive override on a doll's mind-map- it had the potential to cause residual damage to their personality modules, as well as stress their processing at the expenditure of other vital programs they needed to run.
And from what data he and his maintenance team had managed to piece together, UMP-45's team all had the protocol permanently enabled. IOP must have switched them on for a reason, so he hadn't questioned it… but still, to let one team conduct all of the dirty work for the sake of preserving the mind-maps of the others felt… wrong.
"You instructed them to use non-lethal methods. Combined with their lethal protocols, they will not hesitate in disabling humans deemed hostile."
G36 summarized his tactical reasoning in an instant. Even when instructed and provided non-lethal methods against humans, T-dolls tended to hesitate- causing harm to a human was immensely taxing on their processors, and even non-lethal methods inflicted harm. It's why most models made for poor policing units past traffic stops and community outreach.
She seemed to hold his regard for human life in high respect.
How wrong she was.
"If you can, Thirty-six, prepare my kit."
The maid android nodded as she went over his order, "H&K MP5SD, three magazines of full metal jacket, two magazines of rubber-round, type three ballistic-"
He winced. The maid tilted her head slightly, quietly reading his expression before changing the requisition, "Three magazines with full metal jackets, two tranquilizer injectors, type two ballistic-"
He winced again, hunching a bit in guilt this time as G36's eyes narrowed further.
"No ballistic armor, a ballistic trauma emergency kit-" G36 was practically squinting with her frown as she hissed her requirement to his kit, "set to a type-two H-harness."
"Yes. Thank you."
The maid bowed, setting off on her mission with the utmost diligence. Her protectiveness was certainly endearing, but he hadn't the time nor the patience to explain to G36 that if he was caught up in a firefight, then he had already failed his mission.
Six hours until he had to be ready, and he doubted that even if he had a whole day to prepare, that he would be. He sighed into his hands, quietly thumbing the silver band around one of his fingers.
No, this was a mission he had to participate in. He owed them that much.