The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Wed Jul 01, 2015 1:35 pm

“So Bradford's girl decided to fire on the two of you and Epsilon? I'd have thought that 'contain and remove' order from the DVS would've meant that Epsilon was to be taken alive....”

Anton's question earned him a frown. “Considering the fact that Epsilon was attacking the truck Bradford's 'girl' was in,” Vicki replied, “I don't think capturing him was really on her itinerary....” The memory of Epsilon hurling part of the truck's roof at the Honda Regency came surging back to the forefront of her processors, despite her attempts to suppress it. “....and he was attacking the ALPA car as well,” she added. “He even tried to attack Rae–-”

“I've read her report,” Anton reminded her. “It's....disconcerting, to say the least.”

“Speaking of disconcerting,” Vicki mused, “all those E-Lins were registered as 'cousins' of Kirsten Sanderson, even though I haven't seen any of them around SJSU or anything like that. Care to explain?”

The roboticist grinned. “Not a problem. The E-Lins were to be deployed in and around the entire Silicon Valley area at DuBraul's request---they were programmed to keep tabs on Epsilon in their spare time, as long as that particular assignment wouldn't conflict with their sleeper personalities....” He sighed. “Of course, you know how bureaucracy is---”

“Actually,” the brunette gynoid cut in, “I don't. Not as much as you apparently do.”

“If that was an insult, it failed miserably.” Anton sighed. “The red tape that tangled up the E-Lins' deployment came from the House---Celeste was still in power at the time, and seeing as how she was....taken with the idea of monitoring sleepers, she decided to involve herself in the operation.” He rolled his eyes at the memory of the incident. “By the time we got that sorted out, the E-Lins were put into storage because they were needed for another op a few months later. They were never actually sent out on their assigned surveillance paths, which was probably for the best...”

Vicki stared at him. “So....they were given the 'cousin' programming because.....”

“If Kirsten bumped into an E-Lin programmed to look for Epsilon during her day-to-day routine, then that E-Lin would've told her that they were cousins, and presented ample proof to show it.”

“So they had falsified documents?”

Anton sighed again. “Vicki....we were trying to cover our bases with the E-Lins,” he admitted. “If Celeste hadn't had her little turn, then we would've been able to carry out the assignment with no problems. As it stands....” He set aside the tablet he'd been reading. “It's anyone's guess as to how Bradford found out about the E-Lins and where they were stored...people like him tend to have their ears to the ground on an alarmingly regular basis, after all---”

“This is hardly the kind of thing he'd hear just from 'having his ear to the ground',” Vicki countered. “Something about this doesn't feel right....” She cupped her chin in one hand. “And they wouldn't have torched the storage unit just out of....spite, or whatever,” she added. “They torched the place to cover their tracks...”

“That is a possibility,” Anton admitted. “But they might've been---”

His reflection on what Bradford's crew might've been doing was interrupted by the ringing of his iPhone. “Hold that thought. Malvineous here, what's---”

You're going to want to see this, Professor,” Galatea's voice informed him. “I'm sending a full report on what I've found out from my counselling session with Kirsten....she was hiding something. And not just hiding it from us–-she didn't even know she had it!

“I'll take a look it as soon as I can. Thanks for the heads-up.” He ended the call. “So.....now there's that---”

“There's what?” Vicki queried. “I'd greatly appreciate being in the loop, for once....” Her insistence only prompted another sigh from the roboticist. “Vicki, I---”

Somewhere down the hall, the sound of a shotgun blast---followed closely after by screaming---cut him off.

Stay low,” V.I.C.I warned, her eyes glowing blue as she moved towards the door. “And whatever you do, do not run, even if---” The door exploded inwards as a full round of buckshot slammed into the brunette gynoid, sending her to the floor.

“VICKI!” Anton was at her side in an instant. “I'm fine,” V.I.C.I muttered, rolling her eyes. “It didn't hurt---”

“Oh, I know it didn't hurt,” a familiar voice called out. “I learned a lot from our last dance, bitch!” Brittney “Boom-Boom” Delacroix strode into the office, smiling wickedly as she cradled the SPAS-12 she'd used to blow the door. “I figured a round of buckshot wouldn't be enough to put you down,” she continued, “but it would be enough to knock you on your sorry ass---”

“I TOLD YOU,” Drake Bradford's voice thundered, “no shooting! I said when we got out of the---” He stopped, staring at the downed gynoid. “Who the hell's that?!”

Brittney smirked. “That,” she informed him, “is Vicki Lawson, the bitch who---”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bradford cut in. “That's Vicki Lawson?!” He frowned. “I thought---”

“THE HELL WITH WHAT YOU THINK!” Brittney shouted, pointing the shotgun at Vicki's head. “This dumb bitch is the reason we ain't found Epsilon yet....” She strutted over to Vicki, grinning again as she stood over the fallen girl. “....an' she knows someone else who could do a hell of a lot to help us out, too---”

“You're dead,” Vicki muttered. “I saw your freaking head explode....you had the Stylo virus in you....”

A cocoa-skinned hand cupped her chin. “That was the old Boom-Boom,” Brittney purred. “The new-the new-the new-the new----” Her face contorted in a bizarre half-sneeze, giving Vicki just enough time to shove her back with both feet. “Anton, RUN---”

“No, Anton,” Bradford declared, pulling a Sig Sauer from his jacket, “do not run. Unless you want---”

“Thenewthenewthenew---DAMNIT!” Brittney knocked over a half-assembled desktop PC on a table as she struggled to return to her feet. “Bradford, you shoot him and I'll blow your damn kneecaps out....” She reached her partner in crime with minimal effort, snatching the pistol from his hands. “We need his ass alive to find the girl....” Her grin, now somewhat sinister and seductive, returned. “...'cuz when we got the girl, we can get Epsilon,” she breathed. “And when we get Epsilon---” A fist smashed into her head, sending her back to the floor. Bradford barely had enough time to turn before that same fist smashed into his midsection, sending him flying down the hall.

You okay?” V.I.C.I queried, glancing at Anton just as Bradford hit a magazine rack with a pained yelp. “I've felt worse,” the roboticist admitted. “We need to get to Kirsten before---”

The click of a Sig Sauer's hammer being pulled back cut him off. “You, walk,” Brittney ordered. “And you,” she growled, turning to glare at V.I.C.I, “get your stupid white ass outta the way, or he's dead.” She rose to her feet, the pistol still trained on Anton. “Don't even think of any of those damn stupid little robo-tricks you got up your sleeves, either....my crew's waitin' outside, and if I ain't out in fifteen minutes....”

You hurt him,” V.I.C.I warned, “you'll be leaving in pieces. And your 'crew' won't be anywhere near as willing to follow your orders if all that's left of you is a head.

“They can build a new me in an hour,” Brittney bragged. “How long you think it'll take to replace him?”

Anton stared at the floor. “I'll be fine, Vicki,” he muttered. “Just---”

“WE GOT HER!” a voice shouted from a few rooms down. “We got the girl and the portable drive, just like---”

“Then get to the damn car and SHUT UP!” Brittney growled. “And tell Dalton to go pry Bradford off the damn magazine rack over there....” She turned to regard Vicki with a sneer. “What you said 'bout me bein' dead...I won't lie, you beat my ass pretty bad last time,” she admitted. “But this round....”

She chuckled. “This round....this round....this----” Her face froze for a minute....

….only for her eyes to blaze with an eerie light. “THIS round,” she intoned, “goes to Boom-Boom Delacroix!”

With a single-finger salute, she turned on her heel and strutted out. “And 'fore you try to cap my ass right now,” she called out, “I got guys on every window waitin' to put one in your skull!”

“She's bluffing,” Anton whispered. “Perimeter sensors don't show anyone within firing range---”

“It doesn't matter,” Vicki quietly replied. “We go after her now, she could destroy Kirsten's backup drives and her body....” Her eyes never left the African-American gynoid as the latter rounded the corner. “They shouldn't have found us so fast....or at all,” she realized, seconds before a car door slammed outside. “This building---”

Outside, the souped-up engine of another Escalade roared to life.

“TRACE THEM!” Anton shouted, sprinting past the brunette gynoid. “RUN A TRACE ON THE PLATES, GET A SATELLITE ON THEM! Do....something.....” His shoulders sagged as the Escalade sped off, blaring a bass-heavy track from its speakers. “DAMN IT!” He sank into a kneel. “Galatea should've been able to---”

“Galatea was disabled,” Vicki called out. “Took two Vampire rounds to the chest, and...this...to the face...”

Anton barely turned to glance over his shoulder; the brunette gynoid was holding up a four-pronged device that still crackled with residual electricity. “Vicki, drop that thing, now,” he warned. “It's---” He flinched just as the device exploded---on the pavement. “A DeComm projectile,” he finished, shaking his head. “There was one in the ditch, where Epsilon had been....pursued....by Oberon....” Already, a scenario of how the device had been obtained by Delacroix's men was playing out. “And it was brought here, to this office.....by Agent Robinson---”

“There was one in her forehead, too,” Vicki interjected. “'Was' being the operative term....it's in the trash now.”

“Doesn't matter,” Anton muttered. “Galatea won't lose more than half an hour, if we're lucky....we need to get Kirsten back before they get to wherever they're going---”

“Think we can spare a car to chase them?” the brunette gynoid inquired. “The Regency kind of, ah.....”

Her reluctance to mention the Honda's fate drew a chuckle from Anton. “No need to worry about it. I'm sure it's not the first time a car's been...shall we say, pushed beyond its limits in the line of service. And seeing as how it didn't affect SARIA at all....” He shrugged. “No harm, no foul.”

Vicki nodded. “You sure you don't need my help to get Galatea and Agent Robinson back up and running?”

“I have the Field Techs to help with that---getting Kirsten back is our main priority. It'll be dark soon, and the ALPA's tracers will wear off by sundown....” The roboticist glanced back at the Field Office, scowling. “Once we get Kirsten back,” he intoned, “finding out how they found us will be the next priority....”

“Understood.” Vicki sighed; “I guess you'll have to call Ted, then,” she mused, striding out of the lot.

Her eyes glowed blue as she glanced back at Anton. “....and tell him I'm working late.”
-------------------------------------------------
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Thu Jul 02, 2015 2:19 pm

“OW! Be careful, dammit!” Bradford groaned as the bactine-soaked cotton ball was passed over the wounds he'd sustained from smashing into the magazine rack. “That freaking hurts.....”

“That girl freaking smashed you into a rack with one punch,” Dalton muttered. “”How the hell---”

Another shouted profanity from Bradford cut him off. “We need to get back to base and meet up with Brittney,” he scowled. “I told her not to go in shooting...I TOLD her to wait up for me......” He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “Every damn time.....RIGGS! Where the hell's my phone?!”

Dalton slowly dragged the cotton ball across another contusion. “That Lawson girl---”

“I DON'T CARE,” Bradford shouted. “'That Lawson girl' is the LEAST of my damn problems right now....”

“Ah, she's outside,” Dalton quietly finished. “I see her outside the window, boss.”

Bradford glanced at his lackey with a skeptical frown. “If that was a joke, Dalton.....” He turned his attention to the window. “There's no way---absolutely no way in HELL......”

He stopped.

Saw the red-and-white clad female figure methodically striding into the parking lot of the gas station where Dalton had “parked” the Escalade by plowing it into a power-line pole.

“Oh, you are kidding,” he moaned. “DAMN it......” Before Dalton could finish sterilizing another wound on his back, Bradford was already on his feet, hobbling for the door on the other side of the admittedly small fill-up station. “DALTON, get the hell off your ass and get OVER here---we're leaving! Riggs, grab what you need and---”

A steady “tap, tap, tap” against the glass of the full-pane window cut him off---the Lawson girl was outside, staring at him with a surprisingly calm expression.

“RIGGS!” Bradford shouted, clawing at the door handle and trying to pull the thing off its hinges. “WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW!” Already, he felt like an absolute idiot for telling the gas station attendant to leave---the stupid blonde probably had the keys that would've unlocked the door. And, of course, he could just smash the thing.....and cut himself to ribbons trying to pass through the shattered glass to get away from the Lawson girl. “RIGGS, WHERE---”

About ten feet away, where the freezer “aisle” with milk, beers and other cold items ended, a door with the universally-recognized icon for the restroom opened; the faint echo of a flushing toilet sounded from within as Riggs emerged, still wearing his aviator shades.

“Riggs, we need to leave,” Bradford hissed. “That Lawson girl---”

A polite ding sounded from the far end of the store----which, being a gas station, was less than 30 feet away from Bradford---as the door opened to admit Vicki Lawson into the building. “So,” she mused. “We finally meet again, Drake....” To Bradford's surprise, she grinned. “Funny how you didn't even know who I was the first time we---drop it.” Her glare turned on Dalton, who'd managed to retrieve a crowbar. “Put it down now,” she warned, her voice dipping into an electronic monotone. “Better yet.....” She raised a hand, her palm facing Dalton---and the crowbar sailed from his already-loose grip into hers.

“And just to be safe....” As Riggs, Dalton and Bradford stared, the brunette gynoid gripped the crowbar in both hands and bent it in half.....then bent it again, into a roughly spherical shape. “Now, then,” she beamed, speaking in her human voice once again, “with that little distraction out of the way....”

Bradford let his hand fall from where he was reaching for the holstered Sig Sauer. “What do you want?”

“The girl you abducted from the Field Office about 45 minutes ago,” Vicki replied, no longer smiling. “And tell your bodyguard to drop his weapons, too,” she added, nodding at Riggs. “I don't want to have to hurt you people just to get Kirsten back.”

All three men stared at the ruined crowbar on the ground. “Riggs,” Bradford muttered, “do what she says.”

Even as he glared at Vicki, Riggs complied with her request and set down a pair of pistols, a knife from his boot and what looked like a “baseball” grenade. “AND the baton,” Bradford added, sounding as if he was trying to stave off a headache. “Put down the baton, too.” Riggs turned his glare on Drake, but nodded as he retrieved a collapsible baton from a shoulder holster and set it down on the floor.

“You want mine, too?” Bradford muttered.

“If you want to keep an unloaded Sig Sauer in your holster,” Vicki replied, “that's fine by me.” She gave a polite smile, which served to directly counter Bradford's horrified stare.

Dalton and Riggs glanced at Bradford, more than a bit confused. “You got an unloaded piece?” Dalton asked.

“SHUT UP!” The empty gun was hurled in Vicki's general direction, smashing harmlessly into a rack of atlases and travel maps. “Last time someone told me to worry about Vicki Lawson,” he growled, “they pointed me in the wrong damn direction---I had my people watching some girl who wasn't even---”

“Oh, I know 'your people' were following her around,” Vicki replied, not missing a beat. “Good thing for your people that they grew a conscience and didn't try to do anything to her. Actually, she's under the impression that she has a few guardian angels on her side...” She chuckled at the mention of it. “Seems like 'your people' have decided to protect her instead of dragging her to you,” she reasoned. “Tell me something....when's the last time you heard from that....particular party?”

The question got more of a reaction from Riggs than it did from Bradford---the moustachioed bodyguard ducked to retrieve the baton he'd put down a moment earlier. Just as quickly as she'd snatched the crowbar from Dalton, Vicki extended her hand and, with zero effort, brought the baton to her own hand.

“Like I was saying,” she mused, her eyes faintly glowing, “when's the last time your trackers called you back?”

“You really think I'm gonna tell you?!” Bradford croaked. “I don't keep track of that---”

“And now you're lying,” Vicki sighed. “You should know better than to try that with me...so let's see if you can be a bit more honest for this next question.” She glanced at the rack of travel maps; “You know how important Kirsten Sanderson is to the people who hired you to find her,” she mused. “So I'm guessing you also know how...unique she is.”

Bradford glared at her. “She's connected to Epsilon, and that's---”

“Not even remotely relevant to me. Kirsten Sanderson is my friend....and I make a habit out of protecting my friends, especially from the likes of you.” The faint glow returned to Vicki's eyes as she continued; “And you can quit stalling,” she added. “Your 'guys' aren't waiting by the van anymore---I'm guessing you've been a bit stingy with the pay checks lately?”

Drake muttered a curse under his breath; the men out by the van had been Delacroix's. “That's none of---”

“My business, I figured that. But the part you can't seem to figure is that this isn't just about Epsilon....” Vicki glanced at Riggs and Dalton. “You two, out,” she declared, nodding to the door behind her. “Just go. Leave the weapons and go. I don't care how far you run....just leave. Nobody needs to get hurt here...”

The two men exchanged a concerned glance.....then silently nodded.

“Aw, what the hell?! What is this?! RIGGS.....” Bradford groaned out loud. “Riggs, dammit, do NOT walk out of here! RIGGS!”

“They know where to draw the line,” Vicki informed him---grabbing Riggs' wrist just as he passed. “And they should know not to try and plant a tracker on me,” she added, plucking a nickel-sized device from Riggs' hand as Bradford stared. “And Dalton, I'd like my wallet back....” She smiled as Dalton---who couldn't bring himself to look the gynoid in the eye---handed over the wallet he'd pilfered from her pocket. “Thanks. Now, both of you...”

Her eyes blazed with a blue glow. “Get out.

The two actually ran for the door, nearly colliding as they tried to squeeze through it at the same time.

Once the two had cleared the parking lot, Vicki nodded. “Now, then....back to my question.” She strode up to Bradford, dropping to kneel in front of him. “Where's Kirsten?”

“Why the hell---”

Where is Kirsten Sanderson?” V.I.C.I intoned, her eyes now fully-glowing. “Where did Brittney Delacroix take her, and how do I get to her?

“If you think,” Bradford began, only to watch as electricity crackled and danced in the palms of the brunette gynoid's hands. “What I think,” she replied, “is that you're going to tell me exactly what I want to know, or I might have to run the risk of hurting you to get that information.” She reached forward, her hand just barely an inch away from Bradford's face. “I'm trying to avoid being...confrontational, about this,” she added. “I'm doing my best to keep this from getting personal, even though Kirsten is a good friend of mine....”

She pulled back her hand....and then leaned in close, her glowing eyes staring right into Bradford's.

“....so I'm going to ask you again: Where is Kirsten Sanderson?

“Delacroix's heading for a building on the outskirts of San Jose,” Bradford finally muttered. “There'll be about 25, maybe 30 guys waiting there....” He shook his head. “You'll get killed in fifteen seconds---”

That's my problem.” V.I.C.I rose, still staring at Bradford. “As for you...run. Run as far as your legs can carry you–-just run away from this place, and don't look back. Not for a single second. I'm giving you a chance to forget about all of this---about Kirsten, about Delacroix, and about me.

Bradford shook his head. “You think I'm going to walk away from---”

You can get paid for other jobs, at other times. Too many people have been hurt because of this....”

The glow in V.I.C.I's eyes vanished. “Just go,” she murmured, using her human voice. “Please....”

Predictably, Bradford stared at her with more than a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

“I'll give you a time limit, if you want,” the brunette gynoid offered. “30 seconds to decide whether or not you want to leave and forget all about this....”

It took Bradford half that time to make up his mind---without stopping to pick up any of the weapons his men had left behind, he hobbled towards the door Riggs and Dalton had already left through. V.I.C.I ignored the muttered swear words as he passed; her thoughts were already somewhere else entirely.

Specifically, browsing the ALPA's servers for any news from the outskirts of San Jose.
------------------------
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Fri Jul 03, 2015 1:40 pm

“.....and if you insist on fighting Epsilon up close and personal, at least consider taking along a weapon with more functionality than this!”

Kendall's plea went ignored---Brittney had already loaded her favourite gold-plated Desert Eagle with a full clip of explosive-headed rounds. “If you want to keep that fine face of yours,” she growled, “you'll mind yo' own damn business....” She aimed the gun at a wall, smirking; Kendall had no doubt in her mind that the “gangsta” gynoid was more than likely picturing either Epsilon or the Lawson girl in her sights. “You'll recall that our orders were to capture Epsilon,” she reminded Brittney, “not to---”

“I got my own orders,” the taller gynoid snapped. “And my orders ain't none o'your damn–damn---damn---”

The blonde gynoid sighed; Brittney's tell-tale malfunctions were becoming less of a nuisance and more of an actual issue. “She's going to break in the middle of a fight with Epsilon,” she muttered, moving behind her “boss” and preparing to reset her, “and then we'll all be in trouble....”

Her finger was an inch from the hidden switch when Brittney's hand grabbed her by the wrist.

“Don't touch my damn switch....unless you want me to find yours.”

With a genuinely nervous nod, Kendall backed away from the African-American gynoid. “Not a problem...you were just having another minor fault, that's all---”

“I ain't broken, am I?” Brittney spat. “You think you got the right to start pokin' and proddin' my ass every time I start twitchin'?!” Her left hand dangled near the Desert Eagle resting on the table near her. “I might just have to test these new rounds on your dumb ass.....”

Even as the other gynoid's fingers brushed against the gun, Kendall knew that Brittney was using a favourite tactic: intimidation. Lesser gynoids, and plenty of human employees, had fallen for it in the past; Bradford had found it annoying, more than anything else, but those with weaker wills than his often ran for the door before the gynoid had a chance to “plug” them.

“I'm merely fulfilling the request given to me by Drake Bradford,” the blonde gynoid calmly replied. “He asked me to ensure your own functionality and to keep you running at an optimum rate....”

Her explanation prompted an eye roll. “So all that reachin' for my switch was to help....”

From further inside the facility, several klaxons kicked on.

“Oh, it's ON now!” Brittney cackled, grabbing the Desert Eagle. “You best get back and leave the shootin' to someone who knows how to handle a piece like this!” She cocked the hammer on the Eagle, aiming at the door and whatever might try to come through it. “COME ON! BOOM-BOOM IS READY TO ROLL, BABY!”

Almost as if in response....something at the far end of the hall let loose with an inhuman roar.

“Oh, so that's how you wanna play it?!” Brittney sneered. “You gonna growl at ME like a DOG?! Well, just BRING IT, bitch!” She planted a round through the door. “I AIN'T AFRAID OF NOTHIN', 'CAUSE NOTHIN' ON THIS DAMN PLANET IS GONNA MAKE ME AFRAID! YOU HEAR THAT, BITCH?!” She fired at the door again, even as Kendall ran for cover behind a desk. “I AIN'T SCARED OF SH---”

The door flew into the room, with the flattened, still-sparking remains of a guard android smeared to its opposite side.....followed soon after by the lumbering figure of Epsilon.

“BRING IT!” The “gangsta” gynoid squeezed off two more rounds. “I'M RIGHT HERE, BITCH! I'M RIGHT---”

Within three seconds, the gun was knocked from her hand---and her hand was torn from her arm.

“GET DOWN!” Kendall tackled Brittney to the floor, just in time for the man/machine hybrid's talons to run her through. “Get-get-get-get-get---” Smoke listed from the lithe gynoid's mouth; “Get to the target,” she managed, “and make sure notthhhhiiii#Q%%#-----” A crunching, metallic noise cut off her words as Epsilon's other hand crushed her head like an empty Coke can---albeit one filled with expensive electronics and sensors, like the ocular unit that popped out of one socket to land on the floor.

With her head destroyed and her central power unit ripped apart, Kendall's useless body collapsed to the floor as soon as Epsilon's fist pulled back.

Brittney, for her part, was fast losing the “BRING IT”-fuelled resolve she'd displayed upon the hybrid's entrance into the room. She'd already begun back-pedalling even as the blonde's head was being crushed; by the time Epsilon had thrown the gynoid to the floor, “Boom-Boom” Delacroix was high-tailing it through the emergency exit. The sparks emanating from her ruined wrist didn't bother her; the loss of her weapon didn't phase her.

All she knew was that Epsilon was going to tear her to pieces if she didn't get the hell away---

Behind her, far too close for her own liking, a snarling, roaring howl rang through the corridor.

“Out of my way, get the HELL OUTTA MY WAY!” Facility staff were shoved aside, furniture was knocked over and every manner of apologies and insults were ignored---Brittney Delacroix wanted, needed to put a large distance between herself and Epsilon as she could. Nothing between her and the exit would be left standing, if she'd had her way---

Get to the target.

Kendall's final words–-her last coherent words–-echoed through Brittney's processors. Epsilon was after the girl, that stupid Sanderson girl who'd been stolen from the ALPA building....except the girl wasn't anywhere in the vicinity, and Epsilon was tearing everything up regardless. Killing the girl---or letting her die in Epsilon's rampage---wasn't an option, as much as Brittney wanted to rid herself of such an incriminating bit of---

“SUPPRESSING FIRE! LAY DOWN A FIELD OF SUPPRESSING FIRE!” Gunfire raked the hallway behind the retreating gynoid; Bradford's security squad had apparently decided to earn their pay-checks by keeping Epsilon at bay. That was fine by Brittney; as long as Epsilon wasn't on her case, it wasn't her problem.

Approximately ten seconds later, with the security squad bleeding all over the floor, it became her problem.

Her options already dwindling, the gynoid finally decided that enough was enough. In the centre of the hall, she stopped, turned on her heel, and in a course of action blending equal measures of bravery and suicidal, impossible stupidity, started yelling at Epsilon. “YOU WANT THIS?! YOU WANT A PIECE OF THIS?! THEN COME AND---”

All 200+ pounds of muscle and machinery that made up Epsilon's form slammed into her at an angle, sending her through a wall..and into the room holding “the target”.

Had it not been for the fact that the top of her head was resting on the table next to her, with wires trailing from exposed ports to the quietly-humming external hard drive holding her backup memory files, Kirsten Sanderson could've easily been sleeping. More importantly, her presence had a startling effect on Epsilon---he turned away from Brittney (who, at the moment, was thrashing about on the floor, swearing and trying to reattach one of her feet) and lumbered towards Kirsten. “KIR...STEN......” Even as her face remained still, somewhere within her cranial assembly, her voice whispered: “Dad?

Epsilon placed the hard drive on Kirsten's chest, folding her arms around it and moving her hands to clasp it with unmoving fingers. “I....AM....HERE.....

Dad...I can't see.....what's happening?

Silently, Epsilon lifted his gynoid daughter, careful not to jostle the hard drive in her grip. “WE...MUST GO.”

“....I'm scared, Dad....I...there's stuff I can't remember....Vicki was looking for you, to help you---”

“Oh, just SHUT UP, dammit!” Brittney groaned. “I don't need to hear none of this---”

A low snarl from Epsilon cut her off.

Dad...you're still....it, aren't you?

A tear rolled down Epsilon's face. “I...CANNOT....BE....like you...remember.....” He headed for the nearest exit, ignoring the shouts of guards at the far end of the hall. “....I....am sick.....I hurt.....

So what do we do now? Where can we go?

Away. Far away---”

“Y'all ain't goin' NOWHERE,” Brittney shouted. “Just....damn it....just gimme a minute to put my damn foot back on, and I'll show y'all real quick why nobody messes with---messes with---messes with---messes---” Her head jerked to the right with an audible servo rizz. “messmessmessmess---DAMN IT! Bradford thinks he can short-change me on---aw, I KNOW y'all ain't leaving!”

With Kirsten held tight in his arms, Epsilon knelt in a runner's stance. “WE LEAVE....NOW....

“ALL UNITS, REPORT IN! TARGET IS ATTEMPTING TO ESCAPE!” More security operatives swarmed in from the other end of the hall, their weapons trained on Epsilon. “DO NOT ENGAGE UNTIL THE COMMAND IS GIVEN! REPEAT---” The command was drowned out by the sound of Epsilon smashing through the wall, holding Kirsten close to his chest to keep her from being hit by the debris. One SecOp fired a burst of three shots at the retreating figure, earning a rifle butt to the back of the knee for his stupidity.

“Miss Delacroix,” one of the operatives stated, approaching the damaged gynoid. “Do you need---”

“I need my damn hand back,” Brittney snapped, limping past the man on her half-connected foot. “Unless y'all done stepped on it already...”

The operatives glanced at each other, their faces inscrutable behind their goggles and filtered breath masks.

“Ah, we were unaware of any...extremities....when we were en route---”

“Then you and your boys can go reverse 'en-route' and find my 'extremity',” Brittney replied. “Unless you want me to kick your ass right here and now...” She glared at the operative. “And while y'all at it,” she added, “go find what's left of Bradford's girl....” Bradford had already missed the meet-up time, which could've meant any number of things---not that it mattered to “Boom-Boom” Delacroix. “Somebody's gonna take the big fall for this, and it ain't gonna be me...”

Even as operatives filed past Brittney, the one who'd asked if she needed assistance remained. “We'll have a team from KnightWind on Epsilon's trail as soon as possible, Miss Delacroix,” he assured her. “Bradford left us with a set of instructions---”

“Well, Bradford ain't here,” Brittney snapped. “And my instruction is that we go find his dumb ass....” She let the words trail off. “This ain't over. Not yet. We need to get off our asses and find 'Epsilon', or else.” With a last, withering glance at the security operative, she turned on her heel---and nearly fell on her face as she did so. “AND SOMEBODY HELP ME FIX MY DAMN FOOT!”

The leader of the security operatives sighed; it was going to be a long night....
------------------------
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by Yop » Fri Jul 03, 2015 5:06 pm

Hope Kendall gets repaired.

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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DollSpace » Sat Jul 04, 2015 5:56 pm

Another great chapter in a story with quickly growing intensity. Thanks for posting it! :)

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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Mon Jul 06, 2015 1:54 pm

“....and the trace from the drive shows it's on the move,” Anton finished, sighing. “So Epsilon is able to track Kirsten. Doesn't really surprise me....”

“Track her and rescue her,” Vicki corrected. “If I hadn't picked up the drive moving out of its location when I did, I probably would've ended up walking into....something disagreeable.” She frowned, propping her chin up with one hand as she glanced at the readouts before her. “So where could he have taken her without us knowing about it?”

Rae leaned in to get a better look at the monitor. “I wish we could give a simple answer for that one, babe,” she replied, “but it's nowhere near as cut-and-dry as anyone would prefer...” She leaned up against the desk where the monitor rested, her cleavage compressing against her folded arms beneath her hot-pink sleeveless crop-top. “Any leads on where Epsilon scarpered to after he found Kirsten?” she queried, glancing back at Anton. “Or did his Demolition Man routine leave anything behind?”

“Well, for starters....Rae, do you have to wear your shorts that tight?” Anton groaned.

“At least they're not Daisy Dukes,” the chestnut-haired gynoid teased, throwing in a nice butt-wiggle to drive the point home. “Last time I wore a pair of those, the crotch blew out....pretty much turned 'em into a miniskirt.”

The roboticist pulled a face, and Vicki frowned. “I don't think we needed to hear that part, Rae...”

'Oi, don't knock it....” Rae's continued japes were interrupted by a trilling sound from the monitor. “And hello, unexpected lead! Looks like we've got ourselves a trail to follow.....and it's.....leading here,” she finished, her eyes widening. “Epsilon's coming here, to this building.....”

Vicki stared at the tiny dotted line heading for the field office. “How far away is he?”

“Two blocks, maybe three,” Anton replied, calling up relevant info on another, closer screen. “And he's getting closer by the minute....” He nodded for Vicki to join him. “He's not going as fast as you could,” he informed her, “seeing as how he doesn't use a myogel set like yours, but at this rate, he'll still get here within a matter of minutes---”

“So we need to plan ahead,” Rae cut in. “Call HQ, tell McElvoy they're going to want to have a repair bay open before the hour's up. We can get Kirsten to them, they can fix her---”

Several klaxons sounded at once, cutting her off. “And that'll be Epsilon at the gates,” she finished, sighing.

“More like Epsilon in the parking lot,” Vicki replied, already heading for the door. “If we can get to him before he leaves....” She raced down the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of Epsilon before he retreated, only to hear a telltale set of heavy footfalls racing out of the parking lot. “WAIT! We can...help....” Her pace slowed as she noticed a figure laying in the doorway that led to the parking lot; “Kirsten?” she murmured, almost tip-toeing as she approached. “Are you---”

Rae nearly bowled her over as she jogged up to appraise the unmoving form. “Well, I'll say this for Epsy,” she mused. “He was thinking this time...Kirsten's got a nice grasp on her own portable drive.” She nodded towards the black box clutched in the blonde gynoid's fingers.

Anton's eyes widened as he joined the pair. “You're kidding....”

“Not even close---the drive's not damaged, and neither is Kirsten. She's got a bit of dust on her, but other than that....” Rae shrugged. “Guess her dad's got more left up in the ol' brainpan than anyone....” Her remark died on her tongue; Vicki was approaching her fallen friend, looking more than a bit apprehensive. “We need to get her to the repair lab,” the brunette gynoid murmured, “try to install some new drives in her---”

Her suggestion faded into a gasp as Kirsten's voice spoke---from the portable hard drive. “Vicki?

“Kirsten?!” A quick glance at her friend's face showed it to be as unmoving as it had been. “You....can you see me right now---”

I....can't see anything. But I can hear you. I....I remember Dad showing up at my window....”

Tears rimmed Vicki's eyes. “....you don't remember anything past that?” she murmured. “You don't remember going with me to the lecture on campus.....”

“....Vicki, why are you crying? Has....something happened?

Anton knelt next to the unmoving blonde. “Kirsten? ….ah, hi, I'm Anton Malvineous....I'm a friend of Vicki's.”

I've heard of you....you work with robots---like us.

“Indeed,” Anton admitted. “And I can more than likely help restore you....” He cleared his throat. “You were, ah, rendered inoperable by an electromagnet at a scrapyard less than 48 hours ago,” he continued. “The magnet scrambled your internal hard drives....your memories of the last two days have been effectively erased because of it---”

Vicki's hand gripped his shoulder. “Don't,” she pleaded. “If anyone's going to tell her....”

Tell me...what?

“Your dad,” Vicki sobbed, “he....he lost control of himself. And someone on our side...someone wanted to kill him. They thought he couldn't be saved.” She turned away. “I....I fought to defend your dad, but....he was just attacking me, attacking everything in sight....”

She bowed her head. “...and then he carried me out,” she whispered.

“.....dad....attacked you?

“He wasn't in full control of himself,” Anton stated. “His mind....I'm sorry, Kirsten, but it'll be easier to explain it to you when you've been restored to your body.” He motioned for Rae to help him lift Kirsten's body, as Vicki scooped up the portable hard drive. “We'll call for Selwyn to bring us back to HQ,” he informed the blonde gynoid, “and get a team out here to look after the field office–-”

Rae nodded. “Already taken care of. Hynde's bringing the car around.”

Who's Selwyn? That name...it reminds me of something---”

Vicki choked back a sob. “s'alright,” Rae quietly assured her. “We're going to---”

“No, it's not,” Vicki shot back. “I had my scanning expanded to cover the whole AutoYard while we were there...I didn't pick up anything turning on the magnet! Even the AutoYard's own internal control signals didn't activate it.....”

“You're saying it was activated manually?” Anton quietly asked. “You think it was---”

“I don't know. I just.....I hope it wasn't him.” Vicki stared at Kirsten's motionless form; “I don't want to think he would've gone that far,” she admitted. “I just....if he did mess with the magnet, I....he couldn't have been that cruel, could he? Kirsten doesn't even have the unlock codes in her anymore---”

A muffled banging noise---Anton stubbing his toe on the baseboards---interrupted the brunette gynoid.

“She....doesn't have the unlock codes in her,” Vicki inquired, “does she?”

To her surprise, it was Rae who answered. “She might not have the unlock codes,” the chestnut-haired gynoid informed her, “but she does have a few other little surprises tucked away. Before she got nicked by 'Boom-Boom' and Bradford, Galatea was running an analysis...oi, Anton, where d'you want her?”

“Third table on the far right. Has Selwyn called again?”

“Hynde's up the street, she'll be here with the car in a moment....” Gently, Rae set Kirsten's body on the table Anton had indicated. “Anyway....Gal was running the analysis on her, and she found.....quite a few things left by Tony Sanderson. Probably left by him, I mean–-we're not 100% sure...” Her attention turned to the door she'd just entered through. “Either of you feel like running out and seeing if Hynde's driving up, feel free–-”

“What did Galatea find in Kirsten's hard drives?”

Both Anton and Rae were somewhat startled by V.I.C.I's robotic monotone, but Anton was the first to reply to her question. “Something that, in all honesty, shouldn't have been there,” he quietly admitted. “Something that goes beyond Epsilon...beyond any of us.” He sighed. “Despite what Agent Clarke mentioned earlier, the DVS aren't just 'splitters'---they were never a part of the Coalition to begin with. Very few of the ALPA were willing to see it that way, until now...but I knew. I've dealt with them firsthand....”

“So they're tied into all of this?”

Vicki's question earned her a sigh from the roboticist. “They're not just tied into it, Vicki....they're the source of it. They---” Two beeps from a car horn in the parking lot cut him off. “That'll be Hynde,” Rae mused. “Shall we take this discussion outside?”

Once again, Rae helped Anton carry the motionless blonde figure of Kirsten Sanderson, this time to the waiting Hyundai and the cinnamon-haired Miss Hynde, who nodded her approval. “Your voice still isn't fixed?” Anton mused, frowning. “I thought Selwyn would've made that a priority...” Miss Hynde rolled her eyes as she opened the driver's side door. “Guess he's been busy,” Rae murmured. “He and William are still sorting through...ah....”

“You can say 'what Oberon did',” Vicki informed her. “It's not like he's going to curse us for saying his name.”

Anton bit back a number of scathing replies, choosing to nod silently in agreement as he helped Rae load Kirsten into the rear passenger seat. “Mind the cord,” Rae advised, nodding to the trailing extension cord that led from Kirsten's head to the portable hard drive Vicki was still carrying; “You'll have to take the backseat with her,” she informed the brunette gynoid. “I'll sit with you...protect the drive, and all....”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Vicki made her way into the rear of the car, scooting over to sit next to Kirsten; the portable hard drive rested on the seat between them. “And Rae makes three,” the chestnut-haired gynoid called out, sliding in on the other side. “Comfy up front, Anton?”

“I'll be a lot more 'comfy' once we're back at HQ....the field office has some security flaws that need to---”

“Oh, lighten up! I was just asking a question...” Rae gave an exaggerated yawn. “Though the office DOES have a few issues that need fixin'....don't even get me started on the---”

“Guys,” Vicki muttered, “we've got company.”

Rae glanced at her as if she'd blown a fuse. “You're joking....this is a bloody car park, Vicki, how can we have any.....” She followed the brunette gynoid's unwavering stare. “Oh, you are joking.....this is just....this is totally pants!” She couldn't help but groan as a pair of Hummers glided into view on the far side of the parking lot, each with a pair of gun-toting thugs grabbing the roof rack with one hand.

“Miss Hynde,” Vicki muttered, “get ready to floor it.”

Before Anton or Rae could complain, Miss Hynde reversed out of the space she'd parked the Hyundai in; the would-be pursuit cars managed to crash into each other trying to avoid getting hit by her. “I'll call HQ,” Rae offered, “tell 'em we're---” Another harsh, crunching-metal sound cut her off. “PLEASE tell me we didn't hit anything....”

“We didn't,” Anton replied, “but they did...” He nodded towards one of the Hummers, currently backing away from the light post it had just smashed into. “We need to get out of here before–-”

Gunfire raked the pavement near the Hyundai's front tires.

“Any chance you could speed this up a bit?” Rae queried, just barely managing to keep the panic out of her voice as she tapped Miss Hynde on the shoulder. “Not everyone in here is bulletproof....”

The cinnamon-haired gynoid's hands never left the steering wheel, even as one of the Hummers sped towards her car. The Hyundai drifted effortlessly between the Hummer and another parked car; Vicki nearly ducked as a stream of bullets flew past her window, only to get a notice from some internal process that the thickness of the glass, the wind speed, projectile velocity and about fifty other factors meant the shots wouldn't even come close to hitting her.

A groan from Anton stopped her from mentioning the sensor readings; “I forgot the seatbelts in this thing were calibrated for Selwyn,” he muttered, shaking his head as he reoriented himself. “We didn't hit anything, did we?” Miss Hynde gave him an unabashedly cheeky grin. “I'll take that as a no,” he mused, sighing.

Focus.” V.I.C.I's robotic monotone clued the roboticist into the fact that the Hummers were trying, yet again, to get an advantage over the Hyundai. “Miss Hynde, try not to crash into the fences,” she instructed, “seeing as how there's a low-level EMP charge in them.” She glanced at Anton, frowning a bit; “The place was getting broken into every night!” he declared. “I had to do something to keep out the thieves---”

Two words: guard dog.” V.I.C.I scanned the fence, and the gate on the far end of the lot. “The gate's got a weaker charge than the rest of the fence---”

“Ah, not to interject on your strategic moment,” Rae cut in, “but this car is EMP-shielded. We can crash into the fences all we want, and not feel even the slightest bit dizzy!” She nearly fell out of her seat as she leaned over to relay the news to Miss Hynde. “We won't get bricked if we hit the fences, sweetie,” she assured the silent gynoid, “so---”

And what about Kirsten's hard drive?

Rae's smile nearly melted at that question. “.....I...wasn't really thinking of....that.....”

Anton, will the car's shielding protect Kirsten's hard drive if we hit the fences?

“For about sixty seconds,” the roboticist replied, his tone grim. “Any longer than that...and she's gone.”

Got it. Miss Hynde, try not to smash into the fences too much, if at all possible...”

Again, the leggy gynoid nodded, shifting the Hyundai into revers and executing a textbook handbrake turn just in time to evade a Hummer racing towards her car. “Anton,” Rae called out, scrambling to keep Kirsten's hard drive from falling over, “please tell me you don't get carsick!”

“I don't....but if this keeps up, we'll be rolling on rims in a matter of minutes!”

Anton's assessment didn't draw any response from V.I.C.I, but Rae muttered something under her breath and sank back in her seat. “I was expecting a car chase out of here,” she sighed, “and we end up driving like utter maniacs in a car park...utterly brilliant.”

Miss Hynde gave her a semi-annoyed look, but managed to not roll the car as she guided it between the two Hummers in a move that looked more like automotive ballet than just “drifting”. By contrast, the Hummers had the misfortune of smashing into each other---the gunmen hanging onto the roof rack barely managed to drop off of the vehicles in time to avoid getting squashed between them.

“Think they're going to give up any time soon?” Anton inquired.

“Doubt it. They don't look like they're with Bradford or Delacroix....” Rae glanced at the Hummers through the back window of the Hyundai; “If I didn't know any better,” she mused, “I'd say they were with....well, someone a little higher-up on the food chain, to be honest....not that I like that possibility---”

None of us 'like' that possibility,” V.I.C.I reminded her, “but until we eliminate the impossible, we've got a lot to sift through---however improbable it may be---to find the truth.

Rae gave her a bemused look. “A certain detective would probably find that very amusing----

Her teasing was cut off by Anton: “They're moving to block the gate. Miss Hynde, if it's not too much trouble---”

As if to say “Way ahead of you”, the cinnamon-haired gynoid nodded---without even glancing at Anton---and shifted the Hyundai into top gear. “She'll break the bloody engine!” Rae gasped. “If she goes for that gate now, she'll redline every component in this thing---GAAAH!” Her head slammed into the rear passenger-side window as Miss Hynde spun the steering wheel (and, by proxy, the car) to avoid hitting the fence. “A warning beforehand would've been GREATLY appreciated!” the chestnut-haired gynoid snapped.

Her annoyance was met with a glare from Miss Hynde, followed by another wide arc of the Hyundai as one of the Hummers broke away from the gate. “This is getting us nowhere,” Anton groaned.

“So why the bloody hell can't we smash through the fence?!” Rae hissed.

Anton started to say something, but V.I.C.I cut him off. “The EMP charge is only low because the fence isn't damaged,” she explained. “If something tears through part of the fence, the EMP is ramped up to neutralize the threat. If the 'threat' isn't stopped by that initial surge, it gets hit with a second, stronger surge....and the EMP will keep ramping up and surging until the threat is stopped.” She glanced at the chestnut-haired gynoid with a nearly blank expression. “I pinged the building's security server just now,” she admitted, reverting to her human voice. “It's all there in the manual---literally.”

“Which leaves us stuck in a demolition derby,” Rae sighed. “And the EMP surges would fry Kirsten's hard drive if we took the 'smashy smashy' way out....”

The brunette gynoid nodded. “Either we power past the Hummers and get through the gate---”

“Or,” Anton cut in, “we play a few tricks of our own....” He grinned, fishing his iPhone out of a coat pocket.

“You could've shut the damn fences off from here?!” Rae nearly fell out of her seat trying to grab the phone from him; “I can't shut the fences off,” Anton replied, “but I can do a few other things that'll make life very, very difficult for those two Hummers. It'll be quick---”

Don't say 'and painless',” Rae warned. “Any time someone says 'quick and painless', it's never painless...”

Vicki would've dismissed the remark as one of Rae's witticisms, but there was something in her tone that told otherwise. “Let's just focus on the positive,” she advised. “The Hummers are in the same predicament as we are, and they don't even realize it.” She managed a grin; “We've got the element of a home-field advantage,” she added. “So let's use that advantage–-”

One of the Hummers began revving its engine, turning its brights on the Hyundai.

“I'm starting to think that advantage thing you just mentioned is circling the drain,” Rae muttered. “They've got control of the only way out, they're going to bloody ram us---”

Anton chuckled. “They'll try to ram us,” he corrected. “But what they'll get....Miss Hynde, get ready to reverse!”

Rae's eyes went wide. “No.....you're not seriously thinking---”

The Hummer's engine revved, its tires throwing smoke.

“On my count,” Anton intoned. “Five....four....three....two----”

A screech of tires and the roar of a red-lined engine cut him off---the Hummer was charging forward like a bat out of Hell, fully intent on ramming the other vehicle off the road.

NOW!

Several things happened at once when Anton yelled that word. The Hyundai shot backwards, stopping just before it hit the fence; the Hummer shot forwards, sailing past the Asian car and smashing through the front window of the field office---at least, it would have, had it not been for the sudden appearance of a metal security shutter closing on the hood and effectively scything through the engine below. “One down,” the roboticist declared, “and one....”

The Hyundai sped forward, prompting screams from Vicki and Rae---both of whom stared with open-mouthed shock as the second Hummer shot past them and rear-ended the first. “....to go,” Anton finished, chuckling. “Which is what happens when you have one driven by a human being and the other driven by its own satellite navigation.” He held up his iPhone, sporting an ear-to-ear grin as he waved the phone before the gynoids. “Just a simple command added to the sat-nav's queue, and it's a nice, iPhone version of Ridge Racer...well, with a real car, instead of---”

“Was anyone in the second Hummer?” Vicki inquired.

Her question was met with another round of chuckling from Anton. “They're more than likely still alive---”

Was anyone in the second Hummer?” the brunette gynoid repeated, switching back to her monotone.

“Not to piss on your parade here,” Rae cut in, “but the gate's clear!” She nearly lunged over the front seat; “If you'd be so kind,” she purred, grinning at Miss Hynde, “let's all get ourselves as far away from this car park as physically possible---and I'll buy a round of lube shakes for everyone in this vehicle who drinks 'em if we leave within the next....three minutes, 'kay?”

After a moment's pause, the silent, cinnamon-haired gynoid turned to glance at her....and winked.

At least promise you'll stick to the speed limit,” V.I.C.I began, only to clutch the armrests of her seat as the Hyundai arced into another turn, lining up right behind the two wrecked Hummers. “....never mind. Kirsten, how're you holding out?

“...I'm...here, if that counts....what's been happening?

Her friend's question prompted a sigh from V.I.C.I.; “We're about to leave the field office,” she admitted. “It's a long story....” She gave a slight cough. “I'll tell you when you've been repaired,” she promised. “For now, we need to go....”

“Truer words were never spoken,” Anton agreed. “Miss Hynde, if you would...”

With a grace reserved for winning F1 drivers, the Hyundai sped through the parking lot gate, towards the road.
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DollSpace » Mon Jul 06, 2015 2:51 pm

Emotional and then we're off and running again. Great chapter!

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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Tue Jul 07, 2015 2:06 pm

“.....unbelievable.”

The Baron stared, silently, at the reports that had been laid on his desk. Drake Bradford had somehow been waylaid at a gas station, his gynoid assistant was now out of commission (with a crushed cranial assembly, at that), and Brittney Delacroix had been damaged---all because of Epsilon.

A low, rumbling breath sounded from the darkness. “....he tasks me....he TASKS me.....”

From her vantage point by the door, Celine could tell that her employer was about to make a decision that, by her experience, could only end badly for everyone involved. Thus far, his anger had never been directed towards her, but she knew those days would eventually---and inevitably---come to an end. Unless he likes having an Eye of the Patriarch in his office, she mused, pausing only briefly to reflect on how quick she'd been to accept the regime change---

“Celine.”

A shiver ran through the gynoid's body. “Yes, sir?”

“I have business to attend to. Out of state business.” The already low lighting in the room died completely as the Baron left his chair. “You will find a folder with your name on it in your office after I leave this building,” he continued. “The orders within that folder are to be carried out at once.”

“Of course, sir.” Celine bowed slightly. “And what of---”

“Bradford and Delacroix will continue their operations to incapacitate Epsilon. Do not interfere with their work.”

Again, Celine bowed. “I'll do my best, sir----”

She winced almost instantly; she could tell, even in the dark, that the Baron's stare had settled upon her. “I hope, for all our sakes,” he intoned, “that your 'best' is more than enough to accomplish the job at hand.”

“It will be,” she managed. “It will be.”

No reply was given to her self-assuring statement; the door to the office closed, and the lights reactivated to reveal that she was now the only occupant of the room.

As far as she knew, Epsilon had been the thorn in the Baron's side ever since its initial deployment. After the Jakarta incident (which nobody was allowed to talk about, especially in the Baron's presence; Celine wondered if the Baron's “out of state business” was the latest attempt to clean up the aftermath of that particular cock-up), Epsilon was the DVS' most damning failure in recent history. And it's still running loose, she reminded herself. It's still out there....

The thought of referring to Epsilon as “he” and “him” as opposed to “it” only just occurred to her after the fact; it made sense, really. Epsilon had been human, after all.....

Celine pushed aside all thoughts of who or what Epsilon had once been; her office wasn't far, and she had a feeling the Baron would know if she didn't read the sealed orders he'd left for her. Opposing him---especially at a time like this---was suicide, both in the political sense and (very likely) the literal one...and as it stood, she was standing at the door to her office, and the envelope containing the Baron's orders was, indeed, waiting on her desk. The glass door allowed her a perfect view of it, sitting, untouched, amidst her personal effects.

Her palm brushed against the matte black surface of the security scanner under the doorknob; before she could even blink, the internal locks clicked, and the door opened inwards.

No time like the present to get things sorted....

Every step taken inside her office allowed Celine to scan every item in her line of sight---none of which had been disturbed. The locked bag with her personal smartphone, laptop and other incriminating items was still where she'd left it, with no telltale smudges on the lock's stainless surface. The drawer containing her diary (along with a “last resort”, to be used in the event of her cover being irreparably blown) was also still locked.

As for the envelope...

The words “I thought it would be black” were nearly uttered, before Celine realized how stupid she'd sound if she allowed herself to speak them. Indeed, the envelope wasn't black---it was a dark red, almost crimson. The handwritten name and address (which, disturbingly, was Celine's flat, rather than her office) had been inked in a plain black script---not the Baron's handwriting, which wasn't entirely surprising (Celine had addressed more than a few letters meant to have been sent from the Baron several times before). A cursory physical examination of the envelope---lifting it, holding it to the light and making sure no “extras” were hidden in or near it---turned up nothing....

It's an envelope. Stop being so damn paranoid.

With a sigh, Celine carefully opened the envelope with one fingernail, opening it as soon as the seal was out of the way and removing the single, folded paper---and, curiously, a photograph---within. Knowing the Baron, there were already agents in place to make sure she'd carry out whatever orders she was about to receive, to further the fight against Epsilon.

Thus, she found herself more than a bit surprised to see the photograph was not a picture of Epsilon's latest rampage, but a 20-something, chestnut-haired girl at a nightclub in London, holding a pint glass in each hand.

“What......” Her brows furrowed in a frown, Celine unfolded the letter and read it quietly: “'Find and activate Units GC-1412 and RR-1133. Their programming will be remotely updated to include orders to seek out and attack all relevant targets'.....” Her lip curled at the Baron's mention of units GC and RR---short for “General Combat” and “Reconnaissance/Retrieval”, respectively; both were of the same like that had produced Stacy Tanque, which meant they hadn't seen field action since the 90s. Unlike Tanque, however, GC and RR had received continual updates to their combat and military programming rather than news on social happenings and the ever-changing geo-political climate. Rumor had it they were still training within self-contained combat-sim programs that updated every three months....

Celine turned her attention back to the letter. “....'furthermore, your personal orders are to locate this Hreftech unit, current designation unknown'.....” The photo crumpled in her other hand. The Baron might not have known the “current designation” of the unit in question, but Celine---being an Eye of the Patriarch---knew Rae Clarke on sight. Number 1 on the House's wish list....

She forced herself to finish reading the letter. “...'observe, report and if necessary, detain'.”

Hreftech had made a veritable fortune on the companion series Rae had been a part of, and Rae herself was known in and around ALPA circles as their liaison with companion-centric companies. That, in Celine's mind, was perfectly understandable. What wasn't understandable was the fact that the Baron saw fit to put Rae under surveillance–and potentially “detain” her for some unfathomable reason There'd been reports of other models from Rae's line being involved in “questionable activities”; the Baron might've mistaken Rae for one of those units---

“Except he doesn't make mistakes,” Celine bitterly reminded herself. “Everyone around him falters, and he signs the order for them to 'disappear'.” The thought of her remark being recorded barely registered---few had access to the security feed, and even fewer had the authority to question her for the statement.

With a last look at the letter, she folded the paper and slipped it into her pocket.

“I have a feeling this is going to be a long night,” she muttered.

Before she left her office, Celine headed for the locked bag that held her laptop and phone. The biometric lock on the pad accepted her thumbprint (things would've gone to hell had it rejected it), deactivating the magnetic lock with a barely-audible click. Just like the door lock and the lock on the bag itself, the phone and laptop were designed to respond only to her thumbprint. If anyone else---even the Baron, who, as popular rumour had it, could easily access the personal electronic devices of any employee---tried to turn the things on, they'd get a fake startup screen, followed by a fake error message and the phone or laptop deactivating.

Can't be too careful, after all...wouldn't want a repeat of last time.

Seconds after she'd retrieved the devices, Celine made the necessary calls to have GC-1412 and RR-1133 activated. The brief thought of “wasting” the two gynoids was brushed aside; they'd been tested a few times in the 90s, and only sent on one mission before being sealed away for a decade or so.

Still, orders were orders...

The fact that the order to investigate Rae Clark had been given in the same letter as the orders for deploying GC-1412 and RR-1133 still bothered Celine more than she cared to admit. Even if this wasn't a mistake on the part of the Baron, something about the order didn't make sense....

“He has his reasons. He has his own reasons, and they're not yours to question.”

Speaking the words out loud did little to quash Celine's fears. She brushed a strand of dark red hair away from her eyes with one hand, staring at the phone she still held; either Rae Clarke, a gynoid the House had been courting for the last three years, had been caught up in another of the Baron's intrigues by pure chance, or....

“All who walk the Baron's path risk certain death upon his wrath.”

Merely thinking of that simple, almost childish rhyme was enough to send a very real shiver running through Celine's figure, almost as if she'd briefly been submerged in ice water. Her internal temperature sensors had picked up no climate anomalies within the room---the sensation was, more than likely, psychosomatic...which did nothing to ease her fears. Anyone who heard that line spoken aloud, by the Baron himself, became the stuff of legend---tales of midnight abductions, cars found abandoned on a roadside in Taiwan, birth certificates and other familial records disappearing without a trace......

…..except they weren't legends. Celine herself knew exactly what had happened to those unfortunate souls.

Even as her hand trembled slightly, she managed to turn off and re-lock the phone, returning it to the bag and closing the magnetically-locking clasp. More than anything, she felt a genuine sense of sympathy for Rae Clarke---in all probability, the gynoid had no idea of the Baron's plans for her.

Just like Vicki Lawson...two pawns in a grand game of deceit and destruction.

With her work for the day finished and her office secure once more, Celine headed for the building's car park, her processors already generating her plans for the rest of the evening. The Patriarch would want to hear about this, of course---after Celine finished her nightly recharge/programming review cycle. The covering for her ventral access port seemed to ache just a bit, as if the mere prospect of hooking up to her ASU (Android Service Unit---every android/gynoid House agent's living arrangements were equipped with one) was enough to set her off....

Keep it together. Business first, then pleasure.

Celine nodded, as if to reaffirm something she hadn't even said, and entered the lift that would bring her to the car park. I might actually try sleeping tonight, she mused. Might help clear my head....

With a push of the button, the lift descended.
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Wed Jul 08, 2015 1:43 pm

“....and under normal circumstances, you'd be getting reprimands all around for this,” Collin finished, sighing as he looked over the records of the “demolition derby” from the field office's parking lot. “That being said...you all did a damn good job of getting away and making the bad guys look like idiots.” He grinned.

“I'd feel a lot better if I knew who the 'bad guys' were,” Vicki muttered. Even in the ALPA HQ, she found herself more than a bit worried about the possibility of another such attack. “Did the cameras get anything on their Hummers that we can use to identify them? And please tell me nobody in the other Hummer was hurt after that little trick Anton played....”

Collin sighed. “Nobody got hurt. A few skinned knees and bruised egos, but no permanent damage.”

Vicki nodded. “And Kirsten?”

“She's responding well to the new hard drive installation. Agent Clarke and a few others have been filling her in on what she can't remember...which is working out rather well so far.”

“Which is great,” Vicki admitted, “but it still doesn't answer a few big questions. Why was she targeted again, how did the attackers know about the Field Office, and why did they use one unmanned Hummer?” She glanced at the pictures retrieved from the cameras at the Field Office. “At least tell me you've got something on that LaMarquise from the car chase Rae and I ended up in earlier,” she muttered. “PLEASE tell me you've got something on her...”

Her request earned a smile from Collin. “Actually, we've got a whole file on her. Kendall Hawke, formerly Kendall Hayes, Kendall Hawes and Kendall Hainworth---at least, the other three from her set used those---”

“Set?” Vicki echoed, frowning. “She's a gynoid, not a freaking Barbie....”

“She's a LaMarquise,” Collin reminded her. “And ten years ago, LaMarquise had a package deal for members of their VIP club---four of any model for half the price of one. Apparently, Kendall and her set-mates were acquired by someone who ended up owing a lot of money to Drake Bradford....so Drake ended up 'settling' for the Kendalls instead....” A trilling sound from his iPhone interrupted him; “....and it looks like the Kendall you saw during the car chase just experienced a CoF,” he added, his tone somber. “LaMarquise servers just picked up the report---something about 'crushing force to cranial casing'.”

The mention of Kendall's CoF---Cessation of Function---caught the brunette gynoid's attention. “You said she suffered 'crushing force' to her cranial casing?”

“Indeed....you think---”

“Epsilon hand-delivered Kirsten to us. It's not really a stretch of the imagination to think that he freed her from Bradford and Delacroix by way of a smash-and-grab...” Vicki glanced at the pictures again. “He ran, the whole way, to get to the Field Office,” she quietly added. “If they'd been chasing him, they would've caught up by the time he got there---not when Miss Hynde showed up.”

“You're saying the Hummers weren't there for Epsilon?” Collin suggested.

His question wasn't answered immediately; Vicki paced the floor by the table where the photos rested. “If they'd been chasing after Epsilon,” she murmured, “they would've stopped him before he even left the parking lot---or before he ever showed up. They were after Kirsten.....but why?” She stopped pacing, turning to give Collin a glance that was dangerously close to pleading. “Anton mentioned something earlier, about files hidden in Kirsten's hard drive backups....did Tony Sanderson know something was going to happen to him?”

“I doubt that.....he wasn't exactly---”

“Then why did he leave files on Kirsten's backup drives?!”

The Chairman steepled his fingers. “Because he wasn't just our undercover man at United Robotronics,” he quietly replied. “Anthony Sanderson....ran a lot of ops for the ALPA, and not all of them were on the books---if I even hint at some of them, you'll be getting a new Chairman by tomorrow night.” He sighed. “The only three people who knew everything that he did were himself, the ALPA President, and the Sanderson family's priest.”

“You're saying he ran black ops?” the brunette gynoid queried. “That he...killed people?”

“I can't confirm or deny either of those,” Collin admitted. “I can, however, assure you that the files found on Kirsten's backup hard drive had nothing to do with anything of that kind.” He crossed to a filing cabinet on the far side of the room. “There have been plenty of rumours,” he stated, “regarding the origin and meaning of 'DVS'.” He pressed his palm to a biometric sensor. “Some claim it's a corrupted abbreviation and acronym from a Russian name. Others---” A trilling sound from the sensor interrupted him, as the top-most drawer of the cabinet opened with a heavy click. “Others,” he continued, “believe it to be a reference to an old secret society that took its initials from the Dragon, the Viper and the Stag–--or Shrike, depending on who's telling you the tale.” He pulled a thick envelope from the drawer. “And some believe,” he concluded, “it has no meaning at all.”

“I'm more inclined to ask what it has to do with the files on Kirsten's backup drives,” Vicki muttered.

Collin grinned. “The 'dragon' part of the Dragon/Viper/Stag name theory. Or at least, the name 'dragon' as a pseudonym for a project developed under the radar at United Robotronics a few years ago. Not long after the Baron took over, UR began acquiring projects and contracts from other robotics firms around the country, as well as any personnel working on them. One of them....was something the Baron had taken over personally.”

“Sounds ominous,” Vicki mused. “But it still doesn't explain why he'd show personal interest---”

“Because projects like Epsilon, Stacy Tanque and anything the Maestro has ever done aren't enough to keep the DVS going. The Baron invested in the Dragon project because....he needed it. For what, I don't know---at least, nothing in in a martial sense.”

Vicki sighed. “It's better than nothing. Any chance we can cross reference 'Dragon project' with anything?”

“It depends on what you want to cross-reference it with,” Collin began, only for his iPhone to belt out the tones of a classical piece Vicki didn't recognize. “Give me a minute...” The Chairman keyed on the phone. “Yes, what is it....what?! Wait, wait, slow down.....how did----how did they get in?! I thought you had him under high security! Constant monitoring! How did anyone---you're kidding. PLEASE tell me you're kidding.....is he okay? Did they---slow down and take a deep breath! Did they wound him?”

He can only be talking about one of three people, the brunette gynoid realized. Faceless, the Maestro....or---

“Wait, wait...they got him how many times, and he still fought back?! I....look, just get him to the medical wing and get him sedated---STOP SHOUTING! Get him to the medical wing, and...hello? HELLO?!” Collin sighed, turning to set the phone down on a desk. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable....”

“Something wrong?” Vicki inquired.

Collin pulled up a chair and sat down at the desk where his phone rested. “Two women,” he explained, “just broke into ALPA HQ---Vicki, wait!” The last word was spoken with such a forceful tone that Vicki, in mid-stride towards the door, actually winced. “Somehow or other, they got to Oberon's cell and tried to attack him---”

“Did they go on some spiel about songs?” the brunette gynoid interrupted. “About harmonies and melodies?”

“....yes,” Collin admitted, “they did---were you listening in on my phone call?”

“I didn't need to. Harmony and Melody were among the gynoids who broke into ALPA HQ last month!”

Before Collin could object, Vicki was out of her chair, the Chairman's phone in her hand. “Did they get any video of the attack?”

“Surveillance feed, yes....but---what are you doing?!'

“Connecting to the ALPA servers. Give me a minute.” V.I.C.I touched two fingers to her temple---a purely aesthetic gesture, in all honesty---as she established the uplink with the servers. “I need to see this....”
-------------------
“...your song is ending, old man. There's nothing you can do to stop that....but the harmony---”

“---and the melody will continue---”

NO.

Oberon rose from his chair, his back turned to the intruders. “You come here at my darkest hour, playing your little word games and trying to taunt me?!” Something like a sob wracked his figure. “I was so obsessed with destroying the enemy without, I never tried to look for the enemy within....the same one who let a pair of harlots like you into this building----”

“Harlots? Us? Melody, I think---”

The chair Oberon had been sitting in was smashed against the wall.

-------------------
“I don't think you want to see what happens next,” Collin quietly informed V.I.C.I., his hand resting on her shoulder. “They had ceramic blades with them–-slashed him about thirty-seven times, before he finally fought back. One of them left missing an eye---the other one had four fingers bent backwards and one thumb missing entirely.....and when our people went in afterwards to clean up, Oberon was just sitting where his chair had been, staring at the wall.”

As her link with the ALPA servers terminated, Vicki glanced at Collin. “He was just...staring? At a wall?”

“And praying, apparently. In Latin....something about eternal forgiveness and walking the old path....”

Memories of her own fight with Oberon surged back to the forefront of Vicki's mind. “He was holding back this time,” she murmured. “That's why they got him 37 times....he was restraining himself, hoping to not kill them as soon as he attacked....” She hugged herself, trying not to picture the former Chairman letting himself be sliced 37 times. “How's he doing now?”

“He's in the private ward,” Collin replied. “Tawny's looking after him.”

“Which leaves us free to look for Epsilon,” Vicki sighed. “Convenient.”

Collin frowned. “Not when you consider the fact that Oberon has to be flown overseas to stand trial before the High Court,” he replied. “Getting slashed and stabbed 37 times isn't going to do him any favours...in any case, that's not our problem. You remember Stacey Tanque?”

Vicki groaned. “Don't tell me Epsilon scrapped her---”

“She's still functioning,” Collin assured her. “As are the two other gynoids that were sealed away at the same time as she was....the House just got a call from one of theirs about those two sealed units. Apparently, the Baron has given the order for them to be activated---”

From the room below, a scream rang out.

Stay here,” V.I.C.I advised, already on her feet and halfway towards the door. “I'll check it out....”
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Thu Jul 09, 2015 2:21 pm

Had she been human, the brunette gynoid's quickest path to the source of the scream would've been to take the elevator (plenty of android/gynoid agents were comfortable with using it, as well). If she truly needed a fast descent to the floor below, any maintenance elevator would allow her access with a simple wave of her ALPA badge or ID card.

The only reason she didn't use the elevator, in all honesty, was that she simply didn't think of it at the moment.

Dad would tell me to slow down, if he were here. V.I.C.I's thoughts on Ted's predictable advice did little to keep her from barreling down the staircase as a red/white blur, all the while zeroing in on whoever had screamed just a few seconds ago. Female, mid-to-late 20s....that narrows it down. Her internal audio analysis picked up on a few other, almost unnoticeable cues---the tone, length, pitch and possible emotional spectrum, ranging from happiness (and "intense pleasure") on the high end to fear and helplessness on the other end. I need to remember to thank Inspektor 12 the next time I see him, she mused, even as she approached the room the scream had emanated from. This analysis suite----

A second scream---louder, and far more pained than the first---cut her off.

It took an astounding level of self-control for V.I.C.I to not crush the doorknob in her hand as she gripped it, and an equal level of control to avoid ripping it off the door altogether as she turned it.....

It would've been hard to imagine what had prompted Kirsten Sanderson to scream, had she been human; sitting on the exam table in the middle of the repair room, with nothing but a sheet covering her body, there was no sign of any major damage to her---at least from the front. As V.I.C.I entered the room, however, it was clear that Kirsten's post-repair reactivation had gone....awry, to say the least. Cables trailed from her back, and at least one was plugged directly into the base of her cranial module.

Kirsten, are you okay?” The monotone voice that asked that question sounded quite a bit softer than usual---as if the calculating, robotic V.I.C.I and the concerned, human Vicki were speaking as one, balancing each other out. “I got here as soon as I heard you scream....”

A quick glance (and even faster sensor sweep) around the room revealed that nothing had been damaged, and none of the attending technicians (including a fully scrubbed-up William J. Rengold IV) were injured. “We were installing her new hard drive,” one of the techs explained, “copying files from the backup over to it...everything was fine at first, but then we got near the 2 minute mark, and....well.....”

The gynoid Field Agent nodded. “If it's not any trouble, I'd like to get Kirsten's side of----”

“They're killing him!”

Kirsten's sobbed declaration caught V.I.C.I off guard. “Who's killing him?” she quietly asked, moving to sit beside her friend on the exam table. “Kirsten, you have to tell me---”

“They're....sending it after him.....they're sending the dragon.....” Kirsten pulled the sheet tighter, shivering.

How do you know?

William arched an eyebrow. “Ah, Vicki....what exactly is 'the dragon'?” he queried. “And who is she---”

Kirsten can sense that someone's sending something to kill Epsilon,” V.I.C.I stated, never taking her eyes off of Kirsten. “The Chairman....Collin has reason to believe that 'the dragon' is a project personally backed by the Baron...a project that Tony Sanderson was researching before he was conscripted into the Epsilon program.” She helped Kirsten off the exam table. “Collin informed me that Tony hid the data he found on the Dragon project on Kirsten's backup drives for safe-keeping.”

“So it's a false positive?” the tech who'd spoken earlier suggested. “Just a false alarm---”

No,” Kirsten insisted. “It wasn't ready, then....when Dad hid those files, it wasn't ready....” Tears streaked down her face. “....but now......”

The techs all exchanged worried looks. “I'll have my people run a search for anything codenamed Dragon,” William declared. “Demolitions 'bots, pyrotechnic weapons, military-grade hardware....if they're sending it after Epsilon---”

You'll be wasting your time searching under those parameters,” V.I.C.I stated. “Whatever the Dragon is, it's been hidden for a reason. You're not going to find it with a standard search....” She glanced at Kirsten, her expression neutral. “Kirsten....what I'm going to ask is going to sound...weird....

“You want me to access the hidden files on my hard drives,” the blonde gynoid muttered.

Her question was answered with a silent nod.

“If you need any help,” William offered, “I can talk you through it...your file says you've never accessed your own files manually before, and given your, ah...current state of distress---”

“I can handle it. I just.....can someone get these stupid cables out of me, please?” Kirsten glanced over her shoulder at the wires trailing from ports in her opened back. “And can I have my clothes back?” she quietly added, shivering under the sheet. “I...I feel really cold, for some reason....colder than I can ever remember feeling before....”

Your temperature regulation systems might take a while to kick in,” V.I.C.I informed her. “Your new hard drive needs a bit of time to adjust....sorry if that sounds impersonal of me.”

Kirsten gave a mirthless chuckle. “If I didn't know better, I'd think you were talking about a computer---” Her entire body was wracked with a shiver as the cables in her back (and the one in the base of her skull) were unplugged. “....can I have my shirt back now?” she murmured, gladly accepting her clothes back when a tech handed them over. “And if I didn't say it already,” she added, shrugging off the sheet and pulling on her shirt, “thanks.”

For what?

“Coming down here, checking on me...being a friend, throughout this whole crazy thing.” The blonde gynoid managed a smile. “Finding out what I was, what happened to Dad...anyone else would've probably freaked out, and I wouldn't blame them.” She ran a hand down her back, still feeling the ports beneath her shirt, only for V.I.C.I to gently guide her hand away. “You'll probably want to close up your dorsal covering,” the brunette Field Agent quietly advised. “Your shirt might get caught or something....”

After a few seconds of silence, she wrapped both arms around Kirsten and drew her in for an embrace.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, finally reverting to her human voice again. “For everything that's happened with your dad....for what happened at the AutoYard.....for---”

“You have nothing to apologize for!” Kirsten assured her, gently wiping Vicki's tears away with the back of her hand. “And if you were going to apologize for giving me that choice---asking me to choose between learning what I was or losing my memory....Vicki, that choice was one of the best things in my life. You saved me that day, whether you believe it or not...” She tilted the brunette gynoid's face up to stare into her eyes; “And you don't need to apologize for what happened to Dad, either,” she quietly added. “And the AutoYard....it wasn't your fault.”

Vicki nodded. “I....I know....it's just that I felt....” She turned away. “I felt helpless. I was fighting---trying not to fight Epsilon, trying not to hurt him....and then the magnet turned on. You were right in the path of it, and it just....” She choked back a sob. “It nearly killed you, Kirsten.”

“Except that wasn't your fault! You didn't turn on the magnet, and you didn't shove me in its way....Vicki, you don't need to beat yourself up over this.” Kirsten once again cupped Vicki's chin in her hand, turning the other gynoid's face to look her in the eye. “You were trying to keep my dad from getting hurt,” she murmured, “and I can never repay you enough for that...”

With a sigh, Vicki nodded. “So.....we're still cool?”

Kirsten actually giggled at that. “Vicki, we're cooler than cool---just like the Starlet Dolls.” That remark finally garnered a smile from the brunette gynoid. “I ever tell you I actually still have the full toy line?”

No,” Vicki gasped. “Harriet's aunt Ida Mae freaking stole mine and sold them at a pawn shop---”

“Ah, if I'm not interrupting anything,” William stated, “Miss Sanderson, we have the terminal ready, as well as a step-by-step guide to hooking yourself up to it.” He motioned to a nearby table with a smallish, Japanese-made computer on it. “An MSX Quad Plus?” Vicki mused. “I didn't realize we were using any MSX stuff for terminals around here.”

William rolled his eyes at that. “MSX machines have been ALPA -certified as terminals since the 90s,” he stated. “Damn good thing IBM only gained a quarter of the market share in Asia...otherwise---”

“No offence, but can we skip the history lesson and get to the part where someone tells me how to use this thing without....formatting myself?” Kirsten nodded to the MSX. “Do I need to take my shirt off again, or can I stay clothed this time?”

“You can keep the shirt on, but we'll need access to the port at the base of your skull.” William motioned to a cable running from the back of the MSX. “It might feel a bit....weird, at points....”

Despite Vicki's concerned glance, Kirsten sighed. “I've been through 'weird' before, Mr. …...”

“Rengold. William J. Rengold the Fourth. And before you ask, psychopathy doesn't run in the family.”

“Seeing as how you haven't tried to throw knives at me or anything before now, I sort of figured that...” She took a seat in front of the MSX as a few techs handed her the necessary cables to hook up to it. “This won't hurt, will it?” she quietly asked, glancing back at William for a moment. “It won't scramble my memories or anything like that?”

Her anxious question was met with a reassuring smile. “It'll be like any time you've ever used a computer,” William replied.

“Just....don't delete anything,” Vicki added. “We're only going in to look up the files your father hid...”

Kirsten nodded. “Right. No deleting anything. Not that I'd know what to---” A gasp escaped her lips as one of the techs plugged the cable back into her cranial module. “That felt really weird,” she muttered. “And....this looks really weird, too!” Indeed, the screen before her looked less like Windows, Linux, OS-X, or any GUI she'd been accustomed to over the years---and more like something straight out of a spreadsheet program.

“It's acclimating to your system setup,” William explained. “Give it a moment, and it'll look more...familiar.”

Indeed, even as he spoke, the lines and rows began to reconfigure into a more conventional “desktop”, with folders and file icons. “So....where would I look for anything my dad hid on my backup drive? I....never used the thing before, so.....it's kind of confusing to me, to be honest.”

“Just follow William's suggestions,” Vicki advised, “and click what he says to click.”

Again, Kirsten nodded. “All I need now is an idea of where to look....”

William gestured to what looked like a typical hard drive icon. “It's sorted itself now, so you'll do well to start here.” Two clicks later, and Kirsten gave a sigh of relief---folder icons labeled with dates in six-month increments dotted the new window. “That one,” Vicki advised, pointing out a folder from the previous July to December. “He disappeared around the start of the semester, so if he hid anything---”

“I know, I know....” Despite the minor trembling in her hand, Kirsten used the mouse to guide the cursor to the folder Vicki had pointed out. “What....file...should I be looking for, if it's even called that?” Before William could launch into a complicated explanation, Vicki cut him off. “That looks like it could be a video file,” she mused. “Think it's worth a look?”

“Might as well....” With a slow, silent nod, Kirsten moved the cursor over the file and hit “Enter”.

The MSX's proprietary video player opened a new window, showing an apartment complex (the one Kirsten's boyfriend investigated earlier this year, Vicki realized, thinking back to the days before Cinco de Mayo) filled with stacks upon stacks of boxes, notebooks, and---most intriguingly---an air mattress, halfway hidden behind a dividing wall; the lower body of a female form was just visible beneath a sheet. “That's me,” Kirsten gasped. “I....I paid Dad a visit before the semester started...I never could remember much about what happened while I was there. Mom said it was just a headache...”

Vicki said nothing, trying not to think of the last time she'd seen Raquel Sanderson in one piece...or the crushing personal loss she herself---stop it. She's gone, thinking about it won't bring her back!

The brunette gynoid forced herself to listen in on William's explanation of Kirsten's “amnesia” regarding the days at her father's apartment. “....and he probably set your read/write state to 'forget' those days, so that you wouldn't suddenly see flashes of the files he hid,” he explained. “I've seen it before----”

“Wait, I think that's him!” Kirsten gasped, as a tired, dishevelled-looking figure shambled into view with a notebook clutched in his hands. “...not enough time, there's not enough....” He stopped, staring into the lens of whatever was recording the footage. “Doesn't matter now, I have to do this...” William didn't bother to stop Kirsten from gently pressing her hand to the monitor; a whispered “Dad” escaped her lips as her father took a deep breath.

Kirsten,” he began, “if you're watching this, then I'm a dead man walking...and, more than likely, you know exactly what you are.” He nodded to the form on the air mattress; “I had to detach your cranial module for this part,” he continued, “so you're literally seeing this through your own eyes.

Kirsten glanced at Vicki. “He probably needed to access an internal port to back up your memories,” the brunette gynoid began, but Tony Sanderson's voice from the MSX cut her off. “Things at United Robotronics are getting....bad. Really bad. I don't know how much you'll know when and if you ever see this, but I'm only working for United Robotronics because they're doing....things. Things that need to be stopped....” He held up the notebook he'd walked into the shot with. “I copied a full day's worth of notes into this thing,” he whispered, his voice trembling with every syllable. “What's in this notebook is...Kirsten, baby, I really hope you have some understanding of what you really are, because otherwise, what I'm about to say won't mean a damn thing....”

“I know, Dad,” Kirsten whispered. “Believe me, I know...”

As if he'd heard her, Tony Sanderson nodded. “This notebook contains everything you'll need to know about what they're calling the Dragon. But that's just a codeword, just temporary....her name hasn't been finalized yet.” He paused for a moment. “Not a lot about her has been finalized, to be honest. There's a running bet on her name being something fancy. The guy across the hall said his money's on her name being Octavia---”

Without warning, William paused the clip, looking as if he'd just heard something blasphemous.

“You want to tell us why you look so spooked there?” Vicki inquired. “Or---”

“How,” William muttered. “How could I have missed this until now....” He stared at the screen, shaking his head. “The new regional manager of United Robotronics---the one hand-picked by the Baron himself---will be arriving in San Jose in less than 24 hours,” he muttered. “Guess what her name is.”

Instantly, Vicki and Kirsten stared at each other, then at William. “You're joking,” Vicki groaned.

“I wish I was. I really do....but it seems like our 'dragon' is the heir apparent to the Baron's throne!”

“What does any of this have to do with Dad, though?” Kirsten murmured. “I mean....this Dragon---Octavia, or whoever she is---she wasn't even active when Dad was....” She turned away. “When Dad was still at United Robotronics---”

William nodded. “Exactly. Because United Robotronics was in the hands of the Baron. But now---”

“Now,” Vicki stated, “United Robotronics is on the outs with the DVS---they've left UR and every other robotics firm in the Coalition behind, so having the Baron stay in charge of UR is a conflict of interest. He could swing things one way or the other, influence how the rest of the Coalition does things....” She rolled her eyes. “It's like Yemen '08 all over again,” she muttered, “her voice almost dripping with disgust. “Just replace 'puppet government' with 'puppet corporation'....”

“So the Baron is 'letting' this Octavia 'take over',” Kirsten mused, “but she'll really just be toeing the line the way he wants her to?”

“Exactly. He can't run United Robotronics directly anymore---”

“But you just said he hand-picked Octavia as his replacement!” Kirsten cried, burying her face in her hands. “I just.....” A groan fought its way past her lips.

“In all likelihood, Octavia won't be with the DVS,” William replied. “She won't be a registered associate, or even a sponsored member. Hell, if I were the Baron, I'd have Octavia employed somewhere as far from anything connected to the DVS as possible....knowing him, that's exactly what he's done.”

Vicki blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I feel like we're living in Westeros or something.”

“It's nowhere near that bad,” William assured her. “The only way things will turn that bad is if the Baron orders a cull, or if there are about fifteen consecutive Red Ring events---except we haven't seen that many at one time since RedTail got shuttered---”

“Can we get back to the video, please?” Kirsten quietly asked. “I...I kind of want to know...” William nodded his agreement. “I think we'll all do well to listen to him now....” He moved the cursor over the video player's “Play” button and pressed Enter.

“---like I said, it's nothing concrete....not that it matters.” Tony sighed. “I....I don't know when, or if, you'll ever see this, but....it's better to be safe. I think someone may have blown my cover---they're sending in Sharpe tomorrow, for an 'evaluation', and they only send him in if something's gone wrong....” Even as Kirsten quietly wept, Tony Sanderson wrung his hands on the screen before her. “If I disappear....if you stop getting the calls from me every day, I don't want you to worry. Just....keep doing great at school, and help your mom out around the house...they may be looking for you, even if I'm gone. Don't give them any reason to think you're worried. Just keep going with life as usual.

He put the notebook down, taking the “camera” that was Kirsten's cranial module in his hands. “I want you to remember, Kirsten....you're my daughter. Not a machine, not some pale imitation....as far as I'm concerned, you are my child....and even if it's the last time I can say this to you....I love you, sweetheart.

“I love you too, Dad,” Kirsten whispered, her hand once again reaching out to touch the monitor.

Seconds later, the video clip cut to black.

“.....well, that adds a whole new layer of weird to things,” Vicki mused. “Tony Sanderson knew his number was up, but he decided to report for work anyway...I guess he figured it'd be safer to show up and accept his fate than to go on the run and have the DVS hounding his family...”

Again, William nodded. “I don't think he even considered any alternatives---”

What alternatives?” Vicki countered. “If his cover had been blown, he wouldn't have been able to get back to the ALPA without being followed....if he'd tried to flee the city, the DVS would've put a team on his family...it would've been a no-win situation.” Her thoughts drifted back to Ted's temporary abduction by the so-called Spare Parts Society a few months prior. “I don't think he would've wanted to put them through that,” she quietly added, “or let someone else put him in that situation.....”

She stopped talking in time to notice Kirsten staring forlornly at the video player.

“He's out there,” the blonde gynoid murmured. “Dad's out there, and he's hurting, and he has no idea where he is or what's going on....he's out there, and he's not himself....” She glanced at Vicki. “....and he knew they were going to do this to him?”

“I don't think he knew they'd conscript him into the Epsilon project,” the brunette gynoid quietly replied, “but he knew they'd try something....” Even as she spoke, the images playing out in her mind were too horrible to ignore: Tony Sanderson, fully aware that the next time he showed up at United Robotronics would be the last time anyone saw him as himself.... “And we know now that the DVS was planning to leave the Coalition in the lurch a lot sooner than they did,” she continued. “United Robotronics is one of the Coalition's top earners, and if Octavia is allowed to take control unopposed....”

William sighed. “Too many problems, and nowhere near enough solutions.”

“Then let's get to work on finding some solutions,” Vicki suggested. “We can start by looking into when and where Octavia's going to be appointed as the Baron's replacement.”

“And how does that work, exactly?” Kirsten inquired.

“I can call some of my connections,” William offered. “Pull a few dozen files, make a few inquiries, and get all the info we need before the hour's up. I'll call Selwyn right now, in fact---he'll probably be able to get more info on this Octavia thing than we can on our own...” He pulled up a chair and sighed. “I came to San Jose for a conference,” he muttered. “Three days, four if you count the college circuit....and now this.....”

Vicki glanced across the room at another chair. “If it's any consolation,” she replied, extending her hand towards the chair---and not flinching as it rolled across the floor towards her, “I've seen weirder.”

“Does you pulling a chair across the room count as weird?” Kirsten murmured, her eyes wide.

“It's a fringe benefit of my RTG,” Vicki explained. “Magnets, pretty much....so no, it's not weird. But it is cool.”

Even as Kirsten replied with a quiet “Oh”, the brunette gynoid sat down across from William. “I have a feeling you're going to be here for a lot longer than a three-day-long conference,” she admitted. “But if we can stop Octavia from taking over where the Baron left off, keep Silicon Valley from falling under the control of a bunch of crazies and keep Epsilon from being caught up in all of this craziness....it's all for the better.”

Kirsten nodded. “That's all I needed to hear,” she declared, grinning. “So...where do we start with this whole 'stop Octavia” thing?”

“I think I have an idea,” Vicki replied. “Think you could make one phone call before we leave, William?”
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Fri Jul 10, 2015 1:44 pm

“They didn't think it was actually you, at first....considering recent developments, of course. One of the desk men practically demanded I answer the phone, just to verify that you were the one calling...” Selwyn McElvoy sighed at the memory of the incident. “Miss Hynde is helping out top-side, so I was given the necessary permission and security clearance to 'borrow' one of the E-Lins.” He nodded to the slender blonde at his side, who looked every bit the picture of a fashion model---except for the fact that the front of her head was missing her face, and instead featured a touchscreen pad with various icons. Selwyn gave a slight cough; “Audrey,” he muttered, “your, ah, face....”

“My apologies, Professor.” Audrey raised her mask-like facial covering, which extended its internal animatronic armatures just as the touchpad surface receded into her cranial assembly; within seconds, her face---a bit narrow, with high cheekbones, a “cute” nose and strikingly blue eyes---was attached, allowing her to smile.

“I wouldn't have minded either way,” Vicki Lawson replied. “So....how is he?”

Selwyn straightened his tie as the trio strode down the hallway. “Stable, and finally past the sobbing stage. It's a bit...eerie, to be honest. He stopped sobbing right after the attempt on his life. The on-site psychiatrist has been taking reams of notes ever since, trying to---”

“He's wasting his time.” Vicki never broke her stride. “I need to talk to him about....a recent development.”

“Dr. Christian's notes have been well-regarded in past cases,” Selwyn mused. “In all honesty, she made the decision to observe this particular case, and help us however possible---it wasn't a random appointment.”

The emphasis on Dr. Christian's gender did little to slow Vicki's pace. “Anyone else find out anything?”

“Two employees have been suspended for not changing the door codes before signing off,” Audrey replied, “and two more won't be reporting back to work here ever again---they tried to leak the security camera feed of the incident on YouTube. They implicated a third employee, but he missed the start of his shift an hour ago. A team is en route to his house,”

“You're sure you want to talk to him?” Selwyn cut in. “After all that's happened---”

“Yes.” V.I.C.I's eyes glowed a faint blue as she turned to address the roboticist directly. “I'm sure.”

“Then I won't stop you. I will ask that you be careful, and not mention anything that could...set him off.”

His choice of words earned an arched eyebrow from the brunette gynoid. “You think he's going to attack me again?” she inquired.

“We don't know what he's going to do. He hasn't attacked anyone since the break-in....but that's not saying much.” Selwyn's pace never faltered. “We've considered putting him on suicide watch, just to be safe,” he added, “but it's been seen as unnecessary---”

“Do I get to talk to him, or not?” The air of finality in V.I.C.I's question was only enhanced by the unfeeling monotone of her voice. “A lot of lives could be at stake, and I don't want this to get snagged in red tape just because some pencil pushers had a problem figuring out if letting me see him is 'safe' or not.”

Audrey blanched slightly, but Selwyn was undeterred. “I think the 'pencil pushers' hardly factor into it.”

“Good for them. How far until we reach---”

The words “Oberon's cell” barely formed on V.I.C.I's lips as she turned the corner---getting a shockingly perfect glimpse of the former ALPA Chairman's containment cell.

“....him,” she whispered, reverting back to her human voice. “I....guess we're here now, then....”

Apart from the black eyes, the split lip, and the unkempt hair---as well as the obvious fact that he was, in fact, in a prison cell---Oberon didn't look all that bothered by his current state. He also looked as if he hadn't slept since his....capture? Arrest?

“---and we'll be waiting outside.”

Selwyn's words jolted the brunette gynoid out of her retrospection. “Right....outside. In the hall.”

Audrey and Selwyn exchanged a worried glance, but nodded. “If you need anything---”

“I won't.” The words barely sounded sincere to her own ears, but Vicki knew she wouldn't need them to kick in the door and rush to her aid. I mean, he's not going to attack me again, she reasoned. Last time.....I mean, last time....it was a misunderstanding last time, when we fought....

The door closed and locked behind Selwyn and Audrey, brutally jarring the gynoid out of her thoughts.

Tentatively, she made her way towards the room Oberon was held in. It could barely be called a cell---Vicki hadn't really heard of all-Perspex prison cells before now, and she doubted this was something in common use, even by the ALPA. Both the floor and ceiling were somewhat fogged, but still translucent enough to allow surveillance from above and below if need be---this, despite the fact that every corner joint of the eight-sided room surrounding Oberon's cell (might as well call it what it looks like) had a camera mount aimed directly at the ex-Chairman.

At that moment, Vicki noticed another unusual---and slightly ominous---fact about the room: apart from her own titanium/carbon-fibre alloy endoskeletal structure and a few other parts within her own form, there was nothing else in the room made of any kind of metal. A cursory scan of the cameras---external and internal---revealed them to have been made with high-impact plastics and ceramics.

They didn't build this place just to hold Oberon.....but----

“Victoria.....”

The use of her full first name snapped Vicki out of her internal inquiry, forcing her to redirect her attention to the cell where Oberon was contained. A number of possible responses filtered through her processors, but she bit back the more cynical ones and outright ignored any “aggressive” replies. “You don't feel like calling me Vicki anymore?” she queried.

“I assume that privilege is still reserved for your friends....”

Even if his lips hadn't been turned down in a scowl, the ex-Chairman's body language made it clear that he wasn't just making small talk. “You tried to turn me against the ALPA....and you tried to kill Epsilon---”

“And Epsilon ran you through with his talons,” Oberon finished. “Guess that didn't work out for either of us.”

“That doesn't---wait, hang on.” Vicki frowned. “You said 'his' talons....”

“Surprising, isn't it? What a bit of introspection can do for someone....” Oberon sighed. “I suppose this is the part where you're going to ask about fifty questions,” he muttered, “and expect me to answer each and every one of them....” His fingers closed around the backrest of a Perspex chair; as Vicki approached, the former Chairman pulled the chair closer, slowly turning it until it was facing the door, allowing him to watch the gynoid Field Agent's approach. “I won't turn down any question you might ask----”

“Good,” Vicki replied, sounding less intimidating than she would've liked. “Let's start with the obvious....”

She strode up to the door, her stare never leaving Oberon. “Why did you want me to fight you?”

Oberon shook his head. “That,” he intoned, “was one of my biggest mistakes....a stupid idea, if I'm honest---”

“That doesn't answer the question,” Vicki snapped---at least, she thought she snapped. The words came out in a half-angry, half-pained sob that surprised her more than it did Oberon. “I...trusted you,” she continued, her voice calmer. “I looked up to you....respected you---”

“All of which, in an 'ideal' scenario, would've made your choice easier,” Oberon sighed. “Not that it matters now. I'm a wreck, you hate me with a fiery vengeance....and I don't blame you for it.” He turned away. “I cocked up....I really cocked up...tried to go out and be the knight errant, only to utterly ruin about fifty or so things that I had no business dealing with. I was blinded by....something---I'm not even sure what, to be perfectly honest. It wasn't vengeance, or something 'romantic' like that....”

He shook his head. “I failed, Victoria. I failed everyone....and I failed you worst of all.”

Even as memories of the taunts, the hostile takeover of Kimiko and Yuriko, the mocking use of the March of the Toreadors and everything else she'd endured at Oberon's hands resurfaced, Vicki found herself feeling something that, as near as she could tell, was the polar opposite of anger. “....you...failed me?”

“I shouldn't have pointed out the recruitment poster. I shouldn't have treated you like an opponent, or a rival, or any of those stupid things...I wasn't thinking, of how any of this would affect you. My eyes were set on the goal, the end-game.....except this wasn't a bloody chess board, and you're not a pawn.” A slow, sad sigh issued from Oberon's parted lips. “Small wonder you'd hate me after that---”

“I don't!”

Those two sobbed words caught the ex-Chairman's attention.

“I....I don't want to hate you,” Vicki murmured, “just like I didn't want to hurt Epsilon, or see anyone else hurt him...this whole thing has just been...” She didn't bother wiping the tears from her eyes. “Oberon....”

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “What have we done?”

Again, the disgraced Chairman bowed his head. “We've all been idiots, is what we've done.”

“Then how do we stop?” Vicki pleaded. “How do we fix this, get everything back to as close to normal as it can go?!”

The reply she received was the worst she'd expected: “I don't know. I don't even think it can be normal again.”

With those twelve words, Vicki Lawson finally gave up the last shreds of her anger, and wept.

“I should've listened,” Oberon sighed. “To Clive, to Baker, to you....to every single person who told me that I was wrong about Epsilon. Instead....I decided to ignore them all, and just go my own way.” He gestured lazily at his containment cell. “And look where that's landed us....”

Vicki was still sobbing quietly, kneeling before the cell's door and resting her head against it as she wept.

For a few seconds, her weeping was the only sound in the chamber.

“Vicki...”

Through her tears, the brunette gynoid looked up. Oberon was staring past her, at the door. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “For everything I've done that's led to this, and to everything that comes next....”

His eyes closed slowly. “....and if you do hate me from this day forth, I won't hold it against you.”

After a few seconds of silently gaping at him, Vicki managed to find her voice: “I....I don't want to hate you!”

Oberon's stare turned towards her. “You don't want to hate me?” he echoed.

“NO! I...I just.....” Somehow, she couldn't meet his gaze. “I need.....I need to know what happened.....”

Quickly, she brushed the back of her hand across her face, to clear away the tears. “Were you at the AutoYard when Epsilon was there?”

“Yes. As implicating as that admission is, I have nothing to hide anymore.”

Already, the tears were returning. “.....and....the magnet?”

“I was trying to shut it off.”

Seven words, almost reminiscent of Faceless' preferred pattern of speaking---but with a far different impact.

“Someone,” Oberon stated, “some idiot, had decided to set the magnet on an auto-timer---I have a feeling Epsilon was being followed far longer than anyone anticipated, and not just by me. I was at the AutoYard to keep anyone else from being hurt...and then I heard Kirsten Sanderson call out to you, and I just knew....” His fists clenched. “It sounds like something from The Fugitive, doesn't it?” he muttered, giving a humourless chuckle. “Next thing you know, I'll be saying 'the one-armed man turned on the magnet'---”

“How?”

Vicki hadn't looked up when she asked the question. “How do I know you didn't turn it on to begin with?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Because I knew the magnet wouldn't affect Epsilon. And I knew just as well that it would affect you or any other artificial operative in its path....” The ex-chairman steepled his fingers. “None of this makes sense, does it?” he murmured. “I was hellbent on killing Epsilon, but knew enough to spare you from the effects of a full-on magnetic wipe...” He glanced at the dumbstruck gynoid. “I wouldn't have let you succumb to the magnet---”

“Then who turned it on?

The growled question prompted another sad sigh from Oberon. “It could've been anyone. You have no reason to believe a damn thing I'm saying, I know, but trust me when I tell you this: I would not have hurt Kirsten Sanderson to draw out Epsilon.” He steepled his fingers. “I know my limits. Harming Kirsten would've sent me over them---”

“So why go after Epsilon at all?! Why take over Kimiko and Yuriko?!”

“Because I needed every possible advantage,” Oberon groaned. “I needed...wanted total control over the situation, in case it went red-ring...” He gave another mirthless chuckle. “Haven't seen a proper red-ring event in years,” he mused. “Ever since Red-Tail went bust...I actually miss the old barcodes they put on theirs, to be honest. Made it easier to track when their androids started going berserk, as well---the worse the problem got, the brighter the barcode lit up....” He glanced at Vicki, arching an eyebrow at her confusion. “It's not quite ancient history,” he informed her, “and not before your time, either...you were still in high school when it started, if I---”

“You didn't finish,” Vicki cut in. “You were talking about---”

“Red ring events, yes. And the attack on ALPA HQ was a damn good simulation of one...but it wasn't the real McCoy, either. What we faced at ALPA HQ was a very well-prepared, well-acted panto---a solid performance, for all the wrong reasons, in our case....but NOTHING close to the real thing...”

Drying her eyes again, Vicki nodded. “And you thought Epsilon was---”

“Epsilon,” Oberon stated, “is....unique. Not fully a human being, but not entirely artificial---and, as many have feared, trapped in some limbo between the two as his body dies.....” His tone softened; “I really thought all that made him Tony Sanderson had been burned out of him,” he quietly added. “I'd seen all the tests, the previous batches....it was all just a little bit of history repeating.”

Thoughts of the Propellerheads briefly entered Vicki's processors. “You mentioned the previous tests---”

“When I tried to recruit you, yes...I wasn't just blowing smoke. I saw things....” Oberon turned away. “It's in the past. History. What matters is that I stupidly thought Epsilon was going to go down the same road.”

He barely turned back to glance at Vicki. “So....now that we've aired our grievances....how do you feel?”

“I don't know.” Vicki slumped to a sitting position in the doorframe of Oberon's cell. “I don't know what I should feel right now....it feels like just yesterday, you were had a blade at my throat, trying to talk me into letting you kill Epsilon...”

“And you're wondering what changed my mind?”

Silently, the brunette gynoid nodded.

“Three little words: I. Was. Wrong. I was wrong about Epsilon, wrong about your willingness to aid my cause, wrong about...every damn part of this debacle. And it hurts.” Oberon took a seat in the chair he'd pulled up earlier. “I don't just mean a case of wounded pride, either....this feels like a straight kick right to the gut....my little crusade, my stupidity, blinded me. After Faceless, after R-528, after the Family of Steel---I wasn't going to let anyone or anything take the ALPA by surprise again, and the hell with anyone who said otherwise. A classic recipe for disaster.”

A lone tear streaked down his cheek. “And they have every right to kick me to the curb for it.”

“They said you were screaming,” Vicki murmured. “Screaming and sobbing---”

“Because I was seeing just what I'd done,” Oberon replied, “playing in my mind like a bad movie on loop. When one reflects on their mistakes long enough.....one can find themselves in a very, very dark place. In my case, it wasn't the first time I'd been there.” He leaned back in the chair, steepling his fingers. “I don't expect you to just forgive me for this, nor do I want you to simply brush it off....”

“So you want me to hate you?”

“I want you to make up your own bloody mind,” Oberon hissed, his eyes squeezed shut. “You've come too far to start asking everyone what they want from you...” His nostrils flared as he blew out a frustrated breath. “I made the mistake of thinking that trying to guide you along was a good thing---a bit of help here and there is good, but trying to hold your sodding hand all the way.....unacceptable.”

Vicki stared at him for a full minute. “So what now?”

“Now you get to the part you came here for.” Again, Oberon sighed. “Octavia.”

“You knew about her?”

“Only rumours....nothing definite, nothing to act upon. Certainly nothing that would've warranted a full-scale mobilization of ALPA forces. But I knew it wouldn't be the last we heard of her....”

“So you knew she'd be the next in line to the Baron's throne, to keep United Robotronics in the DVS' thrall?”

At that, Oberon turned to stare at the brunette gynoid with a look that, under the bright lights of his containment cell, made him look almost as obsessed as he had during their fight. “.....you have a verified source for this?” he finally asked, after what felt like ten minutes of silence.

“William told me,” Vicki replied. “I mean..William J. Rengold IV---”

“He'd heard the whispers as well, I take it?”

“Something like that.....but---”

BASTARD!” It was hard to tell what was louder---Oberon's shout, or the impact of his fist against the plexiglass wall. “Of course he'd wait until now,” he growled. “Get me out of the picture and then spring his stupid little trap....plant his puppet on the throne, and then 'hand over' the empire to her....all while I'm on my crusade....” He buried his face in his hands, nearly falling into the chair. “He has duped me, and I have let myself be duped....”

As she stared, dumbstruck, Vicki tried to find some sign that the outburst was more than what it appeared to be. After fifteen seconds of scanning Oberon to find changes in his heart rate, breathing, temperature and other possible signs he was lying or otherwise hiding something, she gave up. “So what now?”

“Now,” Oberon echoed. “Now, you go and do what you should've been doing instead of having to clean up after a senile old fool chasing his nightmares....you get out there and stop Octavia from killing Epsilon. And the senile old fool...” He shook his head. “The fool will meet his fate soon enough.”

Vicki wanted to say “You're not a fool”, or “you don't have to keep doing this”, but she couldn't.

“I suppose you saw this going rather differently, when you first got here,” the former Chairman mused. “You wanted answers, explanations....and I can't give any of them to you. This....this has not been a good time for any of us, Vicki. Too many mistakes, too many tears shed.....too many lives broken. And I'm not even going to think of denying my role in all of this...”

Twin trails of tears streaked down his face. “There've been enough lies. Enough excuses.....no more.”

Without another word, he rose from the chair and turned away.

“Oberon...” Vicki tried to find the words---any words, really, that would help her gain some insight to how she could defeat Octavia. “I can't....I can't fight this battle on my own!”

“You won't be on your own,” Oberon replied. “You have your friends, your colleagues---”

“And what about you?!

Oberon glanced back over his shoulder. “I won't be fighting alongside you for a good long while,” he quietly informed the brunette gynoid. “Hell, I might not be doing anymore fighting ever, if the High Court decides to be less than generous when deciding my fate.” He returned his attention to the far wall outside his cell. “I can give you an apology, if it'll help you sleep better.” He turned, slowly, to face the gynoid Field Agent; “I am well and truly sorry,” he stated, “for every single stupid decision I've made that's led up to this.”

His eyes squeezed shut once more. “.....and I wouldn't do it again. Ever. Even if my life depended on it.”

The walk to the door seemed to take half an hour, almost as if Vicki was trudging through a room full of water just to leave. She hadn't known what to expect from her talk with Oberon....but the end result gave her a sick, almost dead feeling in the pit of her stomach---even if it was psychosomatic, it felt real.

With one last look at the ex-Chairman, Vicki Lawson left the containment room...feeling utterly alone.
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DollSpace » Fri Jul 10, 2015 11:19 pm

Emotionally gripping; we shall see where this leads us (and whose brains get trod underfoot, if anyone).

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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Mon Jul 13, 2015 1:19 pm

“Fifteen minutes.”

Drake Bradford's muttered statement did little to improve Brittney Delacroix's mood. Still missing one hand, and with her already-damaged foot now starting to dangle from its connection point, the “gangsta” gynoid's mood was already sour---not helped at all by Bradford's complaining when told of Kendall's demise. Thus, had her summons to the abandoned mini-mall (undergoing a renovation and refit to accommodate a few new stores) she was currently standing in not been issued by the Baron, she wouldn't have shown up...or even answered the phone, for that matter.

“Fifteen minutes,” Bradford repeated, scowling. “If he's not here in fifteen freaking minutes...”

Brittney glared at him, but said nothing. The fact that her hand was missing had a lot to do with it, as did the damage to her foot; had she been human, someone probably would've told her that phantom limb syndrome was setting in. For all she knew, it might've been phantom limb syndrome....or maybe it was just boredom.

That, and she didn't want to start glitching before the Baron showed up.

“If I were in charge of this operation,” Bradford declared, “this would've been done by now. I'd have guys on every street going house-to-house looking for Epsilon, and I'd have guys on the inside in every single police department from here to L.A., all doing what I tell them to do! We've been going about this all wrong, losing our guys...and Kendall.....to that freak, running around town like a bunch of bush-leaguers....” He glared at the cheerfully-decorated “Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria — Coming Soon!” sign nearby. “And we're meeting in this place,” he added, almost growling the words. “We should be meeting somewhere more secure---”

“SHUT UP,” Brittney finally snapped. “This ain't your meeting...and it ain't my meeting, either.”

Bradford stared at the cocoa-skinned gynoid. “Who pissed in your Cheerios? All I said---”

“You didn't see what I saw,” Brittney continued, ignoring Drake entirely. “When all the lights went out...you didn't see it....” Her voice was almost...fearful, now---surprising, considering how she was either pouring on the come-hither, or pissed off to the point of dropping F-bombs every other sentence. It was the first time Drake had heard her express such an emotion....and as impressed as he was, he also knew it meant trouble.

“Well, if you'd tell me what you saw, so we can both have a thorough grasp of the situation---”

“You don't want to know what I saw,” Brittney shot back. “The Baron....he's.....” She turned away. “Somethin' ain't right about him. He's.....”

“What,” Bradford snorted, “he's like you?”

“Hell, no......but I don't think he's all the way like you, either.”

Before Bradford could ponder the significance of that statement, the lights all around them began going out. “I hate it when he does this,” he muttered. “All the theatrics...all the spectacle...for what? I mean---”

The feel of Brittney's hands closing around his lapels convinced him to stop talking long before the gynoid hissed “shut up” in his ear. Something told him that he didn't want to know what she'd seen the last time the Baron had turned out the lights....they'd lost Kendall since then, which didn't help matters at all. “If he tries anything,” he whispered, “I've got something that might even the odds....” Even as he spoke the words, the thought occurred to him that a piddling Luger wasn't going to do a hell of a lot to even anyone's odds if things went wrong.

As if she read his mind, Brittney groaned out loud. “You brought a gun?!”

“I have a permit----”

Two glaring circles of light blared into existence several feet in front of the pair, almost blinding them instantly.

“DAMN IT...TURN OFF THE HIGH-BEAMS!” Drake shouted, shielding his eyes with a raised arm. “WE GOT THE NOTE, WE'RE HERE...YOU CAN CUT THE THEATRICS!”

The lights dimmed, but didn't fully go out.

“All right,” Drake continued, sounding a bit less miffed. “All right....we're making progress here.” He nodded, glancing at Brittney as if he expected her to do the same---and getting an annoyed glare in return. “Anyway, we got the note, we're here.....” He gestured to the empty storefronts around them. “Something you want to share with us? Any...news, any information that'll make our jobs easier?”

Other than the idling engine of the car whose lights still shone on him, Drake received only silence as a reply.

Even as Brittney cast him a glance that was equal measures worry and something that might've been her usual anger, Bradford wasn't deterred. “Okay. If this is how you want to play it....” He took two steps towards the car, reaching for his holstered sidearm----

---and the lights blazed back into their full intensity, stopping him in his tracks.

“Okay, okay.....no more back-talk,” Bradford muttered. “I'll shut up.....but I'd really like to know---”

The front passenger-side door opened; Brittney turned away, dreading what would happen next. By contrast, Drake had apparently regained his bravado; “So you're doing this face-to-face, now?!” he called out, regaining his smirk. “You wanna do this old-style? Fine by me! Enough of the dramatic bull crap! Time to---”

“The only thing it's time for, Mr. Bradford, is for you to stop talking and pay attention.”

To the shock of both Drake Bradford and Brittney Delacroix, the voice that spoke those words was a clear, calm female contralto---not the sepulcuric rumbling tones of the Baron. “....the HELL?!” Drake shielded his eyes with one hand, taking a few tentative steps towards the speaker. “Who the hell do you think you----”

Both headlights died out, just as a pair of glowing greenish-blue spheres at eye-level blazed into life.

“My name,” the newcomer declared, “is Octavia Martinet, previously designated under the codename of the Dragon project.” She stepped into view just as the minimall's lights began to fade back into being; she looked a few years younger than Brittney, more than likely her mid-to-late 20s or early 30s with a chocolate brown blouse and black dress pants covering skin the color of toffee. “I'm here to relieve you of your duties regarding the hunt for Epsilon,” she continued, “by order of the Baron himself.” As she approached Drake and Brittney, her eyes stopped glowing, returning to their standard sea-green. “Hopefully, we can part ways amicably---”

“Amicably?!” Drake echoed. “You want to talk to me about amicably?!

Brittney was already backing towards the nearest exit. “Drake...we need to get-get-get-get---” Her face was contorted in a grotesque sneer for a moment.

Octavia arched an eyebrow, one corner of her lips lifting in a smile....

Accessing targeted unit's systems....access granted.
Enable Remote Shutdown? Y/N Y
Shutting Down unit designated Brittney Delacroix...


“Get....get.....get.....geeeetttttt...ggggeetttttttt......” Slowly, Brittney's head bowed, her movements slowed......

“One down,” Octavia murmured, nodding as Brittney froze in place, “one to go.”

Drake was back pedalling towards Brittney, as if getting to her would somehow keep him from falling to the wrath of this Octavia....person. “What...what, what is it,” he muttered---he had no idea why the hell he was speaking at all, honestly. “What the hell...what do you want?! You want a job, I can get you a job, I've got lots of jobs available----”

“My loyalty,” Octavia calmly replied, “is to the Baron. But I appreciate your offer....” Her smile was terrifyingly polite---as if she knew she could spring any number of traps on Drake, and he'd be helpless to stop her.

“We....we had some setbacks,” Drake continued. “The Lawson girl, she---”

“I know about the 'Lawson girl',” Octavia coolly replied. “Her presence should've been a triviality, at best...not the severe detriment she appears to have become....” Still exuding a sense of eerie calm, she walked past Bradford to examine the still-motionless Brittney. “The Baron considered having her scrapped,” she murmured, running a slender hand through the immobile gynoid's hair. “She hasn't been fulfilling her intended purpose, or holding to the mission objectives she's received...” She glanced back at Bradford, her lips parted in a smile that could've been merely polite, or one last comfort before a hit squad shot him to pieces.

“I talked him out of it,” Octavia continued. “Convinced him that it'd be a bad idea to just let such an asset go to waste---not to mention Vega would probably try to start something of his own in response.”

Drake found it rather difficult to focus on anything, other than the suddenly unbearable heat in the room.

“So,” Octavia's voice stated, snapping him out of his heat-induced funk, “I figured I'd give you a heads-up, and let you know that the Baron has kindly made an offer you'd do well to pay attention to.” After one last look at Brittney, she strode over to Drake. “You,” she purred, “and Brittney are going to be leaving town. Tonight. On the first flight for the East Coast. Your seats in First Class have already been reserved, and some friends will be waiting outside to help you pack and get to the airport on time.”

Something like a dozen soggy paper snakes uncoiled in Drake's stomach. He'd been burned before, by other employers, but never with such callous precision. The only word he could bring himself to utter was a pathetically weak “Why?

Octavia's fingers closed around his shirt collar, gently pulling him close.

“Because,” she whispered, “the only other option he considered was letting me kill you.”

Drake nearly shoved the gynoid away from himself, stumbling backwards as he went. She was still smiling, but with an added air of subtle menace; nondescript men in nondescript suits were filing in behind her, two of them grabbing Brittney under the arms and hauling her away.

“You've still got six hours to get everything in order before you leave....plenty of time.” The words were pleasant, almost friendly advice---but it didn't take a mastery of social science to tell the six hours weren't being “given”. Numbly, feeling like he was in someone else's movie, Drake nodded. “Six hours, right,” he muttered. “I'll be gone....six hours....” He tried not to think about the money he was going to lose, or all of the hours he'd wasted tracking some random girl he thought had been Vicki Lawson.

All he could think about was Octavia's smile. Her simple, sinister smile.

“My men out front will drive you back to your place,” she calmly informed him. “It's the least I can do.”

“Least you could do, right....” He wasn't even in the car yet, and Drake could already anticipate the feel of a gun barrel against his side as someone mouthed instructions to do exactly as he was told. The Baron had spoken---Drake and Brittney were out.

Behind Drake, the lights were dying again....nightfall, before the fire of the Dragon rained down over all.
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DollSpace » Mon Jul 13, 2015 2:43 pm

Excellent chapter, and now we've got a new mystery on our hands. Who is this mysterious Octavia....hmmm.. Must keep reading!

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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Tue Jul 14, 2015 2:45 pm

“Seriously? He actually told you he wouldn't mind if you hated him?!”

Rae's question barely registered with Vicki. “....it didn't feel like I thought it would,” she murmured. “It didn't feel like one of us was wrong and the other was right....” She stared at the floor, not looking at anyone or anything around her. “....it's like....the fight between us was ages ago, instead of almost a day....he's almost...”

“Just try not to think of it too much,” Selwyn suggested. “It may lead to a cascading process failure---”

“How can I not think about it?! We fought....he tried to kill Epsilon....he attacked me.....” She pulled her uniform jacket tighter around herself, almost hugging it to her shoulders. “I went in there looking for answers,” she whispered, “but I left with even more questions....”

“Sounds a lot like what I used to know as my daily routine,” Calliope commented. “And before you ask, Rae, I didn't see Epsilon during my patrols....” She sighed as she took a seat next to Vicki. “I even checked out old Family hideouts---I have a feeling even Falken wouldn't want him. And as for the 'more questions than answers' thing....” She shifted in her seat, positioning herself to face Vicki. “Trust me when I say that you'll get past this,” she informed the brunette gynoid. “You got me out of the Family of Steel, after all....”

Vicki nodded. “I just....I thought Oberon would be......damn it, why is this so complicated to explain?!”

“A mild state of shock,” Selwyn replied. “You never expected to confront Oberon this soon after the incident, and when you did....well, it wasn't exactly what you'd anticipated. And you couldn't figure out how to react to that, so....well, here we are.”

“Maybe he doesn't even know what happened,” Calliope suggested.

The brunette gynoid glanced at her.

“People do strange things under extreme duress,” the clockwork gynoid explained. “Falken was a textbook example....he believed so strongly in the 'True Path' that he was willing to neglect all of us, or to manipulate us into furthering his goals....” Noticing Vicki was staring at the floor again, she decided to change the course of the conversation. “At the very least, he wasn't still spouting the same 'Kill Epsilon' garbage he'd been saying before---”

“That almost makes it worse,” the Field Agent groaned. “It's like....he was barely the same person.....”

Selwyn frowned, but said nothing. “If it's any consolation,” Calliope offered, “I'll talk to him next---”

“And you think you'll be able to talk him down from the ledge?” Rae gave a mirthless chuckle. “Somehow, I don't see that happening...”

“I'll talk to him to try and figure out why he's pulled a 180 in terms of attitude,” the clockwork gynoid replied. “It might actually lead somewhere---and don't say 'it might not',” she quickly added. “This situation is...different from what the ALPA typically has to deal with.”

The chestnut-haired gynoid rolled her eyes. “And what qualifies you to deal with it?”

“It's not about who's qualified,” Vicki snapped. “This whole thing.....we're doing it all wrong....”

Her statement was met with confusion from Rae, a concerned glance from Calliope, and Selwyn giving her a furrowed-brow stare. “Considering the delicacy of the situation,” he quietly replied, “I'm not exactly inclined to agree with your assessment that our handling of it is 'wrong'. Oberon is in containment, we have teams out searching for Epsilon as we speak---”

I KNOW!

Vicki's shout left a horrible silence in its wake.

“None of this,” she muttered, “makes any sense at all. It all feels wrong....” She buried her head in her hands, her voice shaking with every word. “It feels like we've made a mistake....”

Calliope draped an arm around Vicki's shoulder. “Even if a mistake has been made, we'll do our best to fix it. And by 'we', I mean all of us.” She grinned, ignoring Rae pulling a face a few chairs away. “That's what friends and teammates do for each other, after all.”

Rae nearly said something, but a klaxon cut her off.

“Unauthorized access to the parking lot,” Selwyn mused. “After all the recent developments...”

“I'll handle it.” Calliope rose from where she'd been sitting next to Vicki; “Stay with her,” she advised Selwyn and Rae. “I doubt the DVS would be willing to send in anyone this early, but it won't hurt to be cautious---”

“Are you even a bloody Field Agent?!” Rae groaned. “Vicki's here having a crisis of confidence, or whatever---”

“Exactly. Which is why you should be here watching out for her.” With a nod, Calliope headed for the door.

Out in the hallway, beyond the prying eyes of Rae and Selwyn (and, for that matter, Vicki), she sighed. “I never thought I'd have to use this again....” Slowly, deliberately, she peeled off the glove she wore on her left hand, revealing it to be of a more porcelain-like sheen, with visible joints at the knuckles. After a quick glance back at the room she'd exited, the clockwork gynoid pulled back three fingers on her left hand, until their backs were touching the smooth, hairless surface of the hand. Each digit moved with a deliberate, slow click, revealing a hole where each finger was meant to connect to her hand....

….and, after a split-second's pause, a three-inch long spike shot out from each hole, locking into place.

Falken had never realised that she'd initially been built to protect her intended owner's estate, or that she'd had a few modifications meant to give her an easier time defending the estate (and herself) from thieves. There was also the small matter of the ALPA themselves not knowing about it---apart from Inspektor 12, who'd helped Calliope conceal the spikes during her routine examinations.

Her sole weapon now active, Calliope headed for the door leading to the car park.

Being a clockwork gynoid, her sensory capabilities were slightly limited compared to the average Field Agent; as such, she found herself reliant on the building's security systems, linked to her phone (and that of every Field Agent), to make sure there wasn't a hostile entity waiting around every corner. Her own hearing was far more finely tuned than that of a human, but it would do little to help her detect anyone trained in the art of stealth.

Fortunately, the sound of a car plowing into a concrete barricade dismissed that possibility in mere seconds.

Muttered utterances of “dammit to hell” and other, far more profane remarks issued from around a corner as Calliope approached, keeping her weaponed left hand hidden from view. “....put her on the damn plane, she'll be on the other side of the country soon enough....why the HELL did this have to happen now?!”

“Good question,” the clockwork gynoid admitted, stepping out from behind the corner---

---and earning a blast of Mace right to her eyes for her trouble.

“DAMNIT! You should be on the ground screaming right now.” Drake Bradford shook the can, smacking it with his open palm. “This is what I get from buying surplus...friggin' recalled mace doesn't even put down a 5'6 Goth girl---”

Three steel spikes slammed through the can, slipping between Drake's fingers with zero effort.

“Normal 5'6 Goth girls aren't built like me,” Calliope calmly replied. “You're on fifteen ALPA watch lists, meaning you have no business in this particular car park....care to explain why you're here right---”

Octavia! She tried to send me to freaking New York, tried to get me out of the way....said she'd kill me if I didn't leave!” Drake glanced back at his car, where a barely visible (and barely moving) figure sat, disguised with a few blankets, in the backseat. “She turned Brittney off....she said we had six hours to leave....put two of her guys in the car with me.....” He seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “The Baron....he made her. Chose her.....”

Even as the footsteps of approaching security personnel sounded behind her, Calliope knew that Drake would pose no threat. “I can't take any of this information as valid until you surrender yourself to ALPA custody---”

“FINE,” Drake snapped. “I surrender. Everyone and their grandma is dragging me around on the short leash, so I figure I might as well just give up now...” He let go of the Mace, not even caring as Calliope retracted the spikes into her hand and let it fall to the ground. “Arrest me, throw me in the dungeon, whatever....”

I'm sure Rae would approve of that idea.... “We'll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Two officers secured Bradford as a third cuffed him. “Notify Clive and tell him we have someone with information on an ongoing case,” she instructed the security officers. “I'll tell Selwyn when I get back to him...I have a feeling he's going to want to hear about this. Secure whoever's in the car, as well---we're going to need their testimony.....oh, and someone get me some moist towelettes, please...he tried to mace me as soon as I showed myself.”

As the officers set about hauling Bradford off, Calliope pushed the spikes back into her hand, gripping the three fingers she'd folded back and slowly locking them back into position. A quick look at the can of Mace gave her a bit more peace of mind---she hadn't hit Drake's fingers when she'd impaled the can.

“Your towelettes, ma'am.” One of the officers presented a sealed packet of wipes. “I had a spare on hand...”

“Thanks.” Calliope tore open the packet, retrieved a towelette from within and dabbed at her eyes until she could see the moistened cloth stained with the capsaicin-laden fluid she'd been sprayed with. “He's lucky I'm not human,” she murmured, “otherwise...” With an annoyed eye roll, she discarded the towelette. “Let's just make sure Bradford doesn't try anything stupid before we can get him to a holding cell.” The officer nodded. “And the female in the car?”

“Drake mentioned her,” Calliope mused. “He said something about her being 'turned off'...I'm guessing remote deactivation. Bring her to an open repair bay and have two officers at the door.”

“Not a problem, ma'am.”

Calliope turned to leave. “And make sure the car is secured,” she called back. “And get that can of Mace into an evidence bag!” That last order prompted a chuckle; I'm starting to sound like a cop, she mused. Falken would probably complain about that....not that his opinion means anything to me, now. For a brief moment, she wondered where the old man had run off to after his defeat....then decided she couldn't care less.

Still, it'd be nice if we could've rescued Saang...

Ignoring the pang of regret that Saang had perished without an opportunity to fully redeem himself, Calliope headed back for the room where Rae and Selwyn were waiting with Vicki. All three of them would probably want to hear about this latest development---and given Vicki's past history with Bradford, the clockwork gynoid hoped her fellow Field Agent was significantly calm, or at least over whatever had seemed to befuddle her after the “chat” with Oberon.

As the door to the car park closed behind her, she silently hoped that Bradford would be cooperative...
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Wed Jul 15, 2015 1:53 pm

No story update today---headache, plus I"m pissed off about Disney retconning the Jedi and Sith codes to "Legends" (read: NON-FUCKING CANON) status.

Bunch of money-hungry dipshits.....
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Thu Jul 16, 2015 2:32 pm

“Three minutes. That's all I'd need to get him to sing like an X-Factor reject. Three sodding minutes...”

Selwyn regarded Rae's remark with a frown. “We're trying to interrogate him,” he reminded her. “I don't think your....particular method....would----”

“And what the hell is wrong with my 'particular method'?” Rae countered.

Miss Hynde turned away, her hand raised to her lips as if to stifle a giggle. “Seeing as how you're dressed in a crop top, hot pants and knee-high stockings with ankle-length boots,” Selwyn replied, “all of them colored hot pink, I have a feeling---”

The light on the other side of the one-way mirror clicked on, revealing Vicki Lawson seated opposite Drake Bradford. All traces of her earlier confusion were gone, replaced with an almost eerie calm. Bradford, on the other hand, looked as if he'd been running all day and would rather be face down on a massage table as far from San Jose as possible.

Vicki didn't bother wasting any time: “You said you had information for us.”

“I want a lawyer,” Drake declared, slouching in his chair and trying to avoid the fluorescent lights. “I want my lawyer, and a phone call, and a jet on the runway at---”

The brunette gynoid slammed both fists into the table between her and Bradford, leaving sizeable dents.

You have information,” she repeated, her robotic monotone flattening all human emotion out of her voice. “If that information isn't given to us in a timely fashion, your lawyer may never see you again.” Her eyes glowed a solid sapphire with every word. “Now talk.

“You think you can threaten me?! I---”

Bradford's statement was cut off as V.I.C.I lunged across the table, grabbing him by the collar. “TALK.

Rae was halfway out of the chair, but Miss Hynde managed to stop her from bolting out of the room. “She's still in control,” Selwyn murmured. “She's handling it.”

The roboticist's assurances stopped Rae from leaving...even as the telltale blue lightning danced over one of V.I.C.I's hands, just a few inches from Bradford's eyes. “This ends in one of two ways. One, you tell us every single piece of information we ask for, and you walk away unharmed...” Her free hand crackled with electricity. “....two, you keep being stubborn, and the cleaners get paid overtime after you're dragged out of here---”

“Octavia,” Bradford stammered, tears streaming down his cheeks. “She....she's taken over the hunt for that Epsilon fr---” He nearly said “freak”, but the memory of V.I.C.I's Detaining Grip-charged hand---and the small matter of her still grabbing him by the collar with her other hand---cut the word off. “....that Epsilon...thing...I'm due at the airport in five hours or so, and two of her guys were in the car with me....Maced the pair of 'em, tried to dump 'em....” His eyes darted around the room, trying to avoid the brunette gynoid's stare. “....she...she turned Brittney off, without even touching her....I think she did something to her.....they burned us, they're gonna kill us.....”

His panicking had little (if any) impact on the gynoid Field Agent. “Go on.

“What the hell more do you need to hear from me?!” Bradford snapped. “Octavia has people out there hunting me like a freaking dog, and you expect me to sit here and play 20 Questions until they find me....I need to get out of here. I need a plane to the Cayman Islands---”

What you need,” V.I.C.I interjected, “is irrelevant. You're in ALPA custody...the safest place you can be.”

“Great,” Bradford muttered. “Just great.....and I'm supposed to take your word for it?”

“Unless you want to be handed over to the FBI,” Vicki replied, reverting to her human voice. “And I don't think they'll be as patient as I am.” She wasn't smiling. “Contrary to any delusions you may be suffering from at the moment,” she continued, “you're not the victim here. You're collateral. And the ones who burned you and Brittney will come back and finish you off if you keep running around and breaking into random parking lots, looking for help....and they won't have any qualms about hurting innocent people to get to you.”

Not wanting to provoke another attack from the brunette gynoid, Bradford kept his mouth shut.

“You're staying in a holding cell until we can verify all the information you've given us. Brittney will be analysed and repaired if necessary, and she'll join you in the cell after she's been reactivated.” Vicki rose from her chair, heading for the door without even looking at Bradford. “And your lawyer's probably dead already.”

Without another word, she left the room, leaving the man stunned into silence.

“She didn't need to make that last remark,” Rae muttered. “We don't even know---”

“Actually, a team of Field Agents just found what's left of Mr. Bradford's attorney on an overpass,” Selwyn cut in. “The few teeth left were matched to existing dental records--”

Rae held up a hand. “More than enough information, thank you.”

Miss Hynde gave her an annoyed look, but anything Selwyn could've said to back her up was cut off by Vicki entering the room. “So,” Rae beamed, trying to go for a friendly tone, “you did a pretty good---”

“Can we get Bradford into a secured cell within five hours?”

The question wiped the smile off of Rae's face. “You're saying you want to lock that plonker up here, in your own building?! Vicki, the man's a criminal---”

“And he saw Octavia face-to-face. If we can get him to cooperate, we can find her.” Vicki exhaled a slow, even breath. “Talking to him was....the opposite of what happened with Oberon. He gave the exact answers I needed to hear, and even if he was a bit...emotional....about it, I still understood everything he said.” She stared at the floor; “And that little desk-pounding, collar grabbing thing,” she quietly added, almost sounding as if the act had been something embarrassing, “was.....a bit much, I admit it---”

“Except the only damage done was to the table,” Selwyn replied, “which can easily be replaced.”

Vicki nodded. “And the Detaining Grip was just for show....and all that stuff I said about handing him over to the FBI was....well.....”

“Cop shows,” Rae muttered, rolling her eyes. “You're bloody lucky he didn't have a heart condition!”

“As it stands,” Selwyn interjected, “we can now apply the 'good cop' half of that particular interrogation method, with Miss Hynde and myself filling that role.” He glanced at the cinnamon-haired gynoid, who gave a pleasant smile in return. “Even without her language skills,” the roboticist continued, “her overall body language and demeanour might be enough of a balm to Mr. Bradford's already frayed nerves....”

Again, the brunette gynoid nodded. “Honey and vinegar....guess I know which one I was....” She sighed. “Is Kirsten still doing okay?” she added, almost as an afterthought.

“She's with Anton and a team of plainclothes Field Agents. And yes, she is still doing okay, as you put it.”

Selwyn's reply earned a sigh of relief. “As long as she's safe....”

“So you want her safe, and plonkmeister over there caged up in your own headquarters,” Rae mused. “Not exactly the best call to make, babe...”

“You want Octavia's people finding him in County? Or paying someone to turn him into a human pincushion in General Population at the nearest prison we dump him at?” Vicki's voice never wavered. “If we're going to keep the DVS from finding Epsilon---and if we want any chance of finding Octavia---we have to do things this way. Otherwise....”

After a moment of silence, Rae finally nodded. “Guess that puts it all into perspective, then,” she murmured.

“Questioning Bradford might lead to additional 'perspective',” Selwyn added. “I'll contact Clive, see if he can get the requisite forms signed within the hour....”

Rae sighed. “And I assume I don't get to do anything other than sit around and gripe?”

Vicki managed a grin. “You and I,” she replied, “will be looking for Octavia as soon as Bradford decides to tell us what she looks like...seeing as how you managed to not suck the last time we did a field op together, I have no problem teaming up with you again.” She glanced back at the window to the interrogation room, where Bradford was now yelling for someone to bring him a phone. “This situation doesn't really give us the leeway to act on instinct,” she quietly admitted. “We do this the loud way, Octavia escapes and we're left looking like idiots. We'll have a better chance of catching her if we do this the subtle way.”

“And if Epsilon forgoes any possibility of 'the subtle way'?”

Rae's question earned her an annoyed glance from Vicki. “We hide him if we can, protect him when we can, and let him escape if things get too stupid. It's the least we can do for him.”

“Fair enough,” the chestnut-haired gynoid admitted. “And for your information, 'managing to not suck' on field ops happens to be a specialty of mine.” She gave an unabashedly cheeky grin. “And you haven't sucked on a field op in a good long while, yourself!”

“I'll take that as a compliment. And before anyone asks when we're leaving, it'll be as soon as Bradford---”

Selwyn cleared his throat, cutting off the discussion. “I suggest we avoid setting our schedule by relying on him,” he stated. “The DVS will more than likely have their own people on the way to either silence him or buy back his loyalty. Either way, they could potentially stop us from finding out what Octavia looks like, and how much power she's managed to gain.”

“Then maybe we need to handle this....differently,” Vicki suggested. “Brittney's still in the repair bay?”

“.....what, exactly, are you suggesting we do?” Selwyn inquired.

“I'm suggesting I interrogate her,” the brunette gynoid replied. “In a way that only I can: direct interface.”

The stunned look on Rae's face spoke volumes, but Selwyn spoke before the chestnut-haired gynoid could give her opinion. “It's a risk....she might try to access ALPA servers, or even manipulate you somehow---”

“Believe me, I know. And I also know that the DVS will be able to backtrace any other method we use....which is why I'm going to wipe the last 24 hours' worth of her memory when I'm done.” Rae seemed to shudder at that, but Selwyn merely gave an approving nod. “Then do what you can to see if Miss Delacroix remembers enough about Octavia to lead us to her.”

“I will. And I'll need the most secure connection possible to make sure she doesn't counter-hack us.”

Again, Rae's apprehension was curtailed by Selwyn: “I don't think that will be a problem, Miss Lawson.”
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DollSpace » Thu Jul 16, 2015 2:40 pm

Rae's as nervous as I'd be! Maybe something happened in *her* past...

And what's wrong with pink? :lol:

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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Fri Jul 17, 2015 1:52 pm

“Well?”

Anton glanced over his shoulder, frowning. “Well, what?

“D'you think this would be a good time to...y'know, tell her?”

“About the breach?” The roboticist shook his head. “No. Epsilon is still on the loose, we're getting our first glimpse of the DVS in about a decade or so, and we've got two individuals currently on our watch list contained in the building. Telling her now would probably be a catastrophically bad idea...” He returned his attention to the monitor he'd been viewing before. “She doesn't need any more distractions---especially not now.”

“Good point. Another good point is that she may see the breach as a distraction---”

“She knows,” Anton cut in. “At least, she knows it happened. Pria Bishop---that freelancer, 'sister' unit to our own Agent Bishop---mentioned it during the R-528 incident...”

“And you nearly wiped the memory from her. I read the report.”

The roboticist glared over his shoulder, but said nothing.

“You'll have to tell her sooner or later, Anton. If you don't, someone else will...and it'd be better if she heard it from someone she knows. Someone she trusts.”

“And what happens if she stops trusting me because I waited so long to tell her?” Anton countered. “What if she doesn't trust any of us for hiding this from her for so long?” He was still staring at the monitor, but it was all too obvious that he wasn't even trying to read it anymore. “We've tracked most of what was taken, to be honest,” he quietly added. “The only lead we're still working on is who got the List.”

“That should've been the first thing your people looked for!”

Had anyone else made that claim, Anton might've argued with them for hours on end. This time, all he could do was mutter “I know”, and finally turn off the monitor. “We've botched this one.....we've botched it worse than we can ever hope to fully repair. Vicki's going to find out---from me, or from you, or from someone....and whatever her reaction, it won't be something we can just gloss over.”

“Nobody said anything about glossing over it.....it just needs to be put on the back burner for now.”

Slowly, Anton nodded. “Epsilon takes precedence...clear and present danger, imminent threat, all that great Tom Clancy stuff. Except Sam Fisher and Ding Chavez never had to deal with what we deal with....” He rose from his chair. “They need me downstairs,” he stated, not even bothering to look over his shoulder, “to assist with the interrogation of Brittney Delacroix...Vicki's going to try a direct interface method.” He turned, heading for the door; “Hopefully, we can find out something about what the DVS is planning next,” he continued, “if Brittney doesn't manage to counter-hack during the interface process.”

“Counter-hacking is the least of your problems. You know there are others who want Epsilon for themselves, and they might not be as subtle about it as the DVS....”

“I know!” The exclamation was punctuated by Anton punching the wall.

A hand rested on his shoulder. “Nobody blames you for this, Anton. It's not any one person's fault....”

“So why do I feel like I'm the one who's let Vicki down the most?” Anton muttered. Without waiting for a reply, he opened the door. “You'll be here when I get back?”

“I won't leave before this is sorted out, Anton. Go do what you need to do.”
-------------
Vicki barely glanced over her shoulder when Anton entered the repair bay. “You're early,” she informed him. “I was wondering if I'd have time to sort through the connector cables before we started...”

“I had a few things to tend to. I take it Miss Delacroix has been prepped?”

“Seeing as how her main connector port was on her neck,” Rae called out, “it was depressingly easy to get her ready.....” She rolled her eyes. “I never knew ReVerse had decided to streamline their 'bots so much...we didn't even get to open her up!” She gave the unmoving gynoid an annoyed glance. “Honestly, it's like she's saying 'screw you' even when she's turned off.....”

Her remarks earned her an annoyed look from Vicki. “You sound a bit too disappointed about that....”

“It's the boredom talking,” Rae sighed. “I wouldn't mind a bit of open-panel action myself....”

“You want to go get a room and let us handle this?” Anton chuckled. “If you feel like opening a few of your own panels for some....self-exploration.....”

“Spack off.....I just need to get a break from the boring stuff around here.” The chestnut-haired gynoid headed for a nearby table; “I'll check my contacts list,” she mused, retrieving her phone, “see if any of my exes in town need something to spice up their day....” Her lips parted in a sultry grin as she scrolled through the names stored in her phone's memory. “You might like some of my exes,” she added, glancing in Vicki's direction. “If you don't know them already, I mean.....”

Again, Vicki gave her a look. “Can we please stop talking about your love life for now?”

“And there's Selwyn,” Anton declared, just as Rae stuck her tongue at the brunette gynoid. “I'm hoping your efforts to glean some information from Bradford have been successful....”

“You'd be amazed at how much a man will reveal when a beautiful woman's in the room,” Selwyn replied; Miss Hynde, entering the room just after him, gave a shy grin and stared at the floor for a moment. “The only thing we weren't able to ascertain is what, exactly, Octavia looks like....” He allowed the sentence to trail off as Vicki hiked up her shirt, allowing her back panel to open. “Sometimes, the direct approach works best,” she stated, grabbing one end of a cable and shuddering only slightly as she plugged it into her own waiting port. “We've set up the firewalls to keep her from accessing my systems during the process...all we need now is to activate her and establish the connection.”

Selwyn strode over to the table where Brittney's unmoving form waited. “And you're positive she won't be able to tap into any secure systems?”

“Even if she does, she'll forget about it a minute after the connection is terminated.”

Something about the way Vicki uttered that sentence was slightly disturbing to Anton, but he ignored it. “I'm guessing you've filed the paperwork to authorize a memory wipe, then?”

“Can we not get hung up on the bloody paperwork, please?” Rae groaned. “I'm hoping we can get this done in half an hour or so...I've got places to be, things to do, that sort of thing....and here's the rest of the party,” she added, rolling her eyes. “Collin, William, Gal and....some blonde I've never seen before---are we on a hiring spree again?”

“Nice to see you're in a good mood,” Galatea replied, grinning in spite of Rae's sarcasm. “I'm guessing that whole cranial detachment thing hasn't left too many scars, then?”

“Oi, you ever get choked out by Epsilon, you'll....” Rae stopped talking just as Kirsten Sanderson entered the room. Gal was at the former sleeper's side in an instant; “You sure you want to be here for this?” she asked, ignoring Rae's sulking. “You might not like some of what Vicki may find out....”

Before Vicki could protest, Kirsten spoke up: “If she knows anything about the people who are after my dad, I want to know every last detail. Even if I hate what I hear.” She nodded at the brunette gynoid. “So...what happens now?”

“Now, I link up to her systems and start data-mining.” Vicki sat down in a chair next to the table where Brittney Delacroix lay, the seam between one hand and the end of the arm it was meant to be connected to beginning to show (whoever had reattached the thing had apparently done a rush job). “Hopefully, this ends with minimal damage---preferably with no damage at all,” she admitted. “Even if she tried to take down the Starlet Dolls, she's still in ALPA custody---and we shouldn't put her through the ringer just for that.”

William took his seat at a terminal on the other end of the room. “Ready when you are, Vicki...”

“I'll go find the zip ties,” Rae called out, “if you need to restrain her!” She grinned, ignoring the annoyed look Miss Hynde was giving her. “And Selwyn....if you want to put her voice box back in after this is done, I---”

Anton's upheld, open hand was a signal for Rae–-and anyone else talking–-to be silent.

Commencing uplink.....failsafes holding. Preparing to connect.....” V.I.C.I's monotone left no doubt in anyone's minds that she'd long since stopped listening to the idle chit-chat around the room. “Please wait....”

Six seconds later, her eyes glowed blue---as did the just-opened eyes of Brittney Delacroix.

Uplink established. Hello again, Brittney.

“.....what did you do to me?” Even with her entire body frozen, Brittney's heavily-digitized voice still projected an air of fear. “I....can't move.....

You're in an ALPA repair bay, undergoing a direct uplink interrogation. Drake Bradford brought you here, and has effectively surrendered himself and you to our custody.” Even as she spoke, V.I.C.I's stare was fixed on the far wall. “We need you to tell us anything you can about Octavia---”

You want her?!” The terror in those three words filled the air. “Why?!

We need to find her before she finds Epsilon. If she gets to him first, things will turn bad for everyone involved---”

Without warning, Brittney's body began to seize up. “Hold her down!” Anton ordered. “Someone---”

“I told you we'd need these,” Rae reminded him, securing the formerly paralysed gynoid to the railings of the table with zip ties. “I'll thank you for letting your proclivities dictate what's in your carry-all bag,” Anton replied, “once we've finished up here!” Without missing a beat, he pinned Brittney's arm against the rail as Rae tossed him a zip-tie. “How're you holding up, Vicki?”

She's not fighting me,” the brunette gynoid replied, still staring at the far wall. “There's....someone else....

Galatea's eyes went wide. “Vicki, kill the connection now.”

I'm in control of it---”

“Except someone else is trying to horn in on it! Octavia may be trying to link up with her remotely....you need to cut the connection now, or---”

Octavia won't get through. I won't let her.

“It's not about letting her get to you,” Galatea insisted. “It's about---”

Brittney's face contorted as an ear-splitting, blood-chilling scream filled the air. “System resources are going into the red,” William called out. “Something's pushing everything in her to the limits–-she might go up in a matter of minutes, or seconds!”

Then all of you need to get out of here,” V.I.C.I declared. “I don't want any of you getting hurt---”

A silver-skinned hand grasped her shoulder, prompting her to finally look away from the far wall.

“Vicki....” Galatea's eyes glowed a bright amethyst as she stared into V.I.C.I's own optical sensors. “You need to break the connection. Octavia is scything through Brittney's firewalls.....she'll get to you in seconds, if you don't cut this off now.”

Three seconds of silence passed before the brunette gynoid made up her mind.

Control panel....disengage uplink. Terminate connection.

A plink sound from the port in her back signalled the detachment of the plug, which Kirsten quickly grasped and threw to the floor. “Good call,” Galatea beamed. “And you might want to step back...” She guided V.I.C.I away from the table where the now-restrained Brittney was thrashing, screaming and generally losing control of her own body.

“How's she holding up?” Anton shouted.

“Give me a minute....you okay, Vicki?”

“.....I'm good. Just....a bit shaken up, to be honest.” The glow in Vicki's eyes was still present, but fading with each second. “I felt it,” she informed Galatea. “Octavia's breach of Brittney's systems....I could feel each thing getting redlined, but it was....indescribable. I knew it wasn't happening to me, but I could still feel it---” She flinched; Brittney was screaming again. “....anyway,” she continue, “I managed to get one recorded memory showing a clear image of Octavia's face---Brittney's systems were pretty much an open book.”

Gal frowned at the open-book reference. “You're saying her internal firewalls were just....down?”

“More like she didn't even have any. Or if she did, they were completely gone.”

“Which is impossible,” William called out from his seat at the terminal, “because the scans show they're still up right----wait, hang on a minute....oh, you're joking.....”

Selwyn and Anton joined William at the terminal---one mildly concerned, the other horrified. “This is all being done by remote access?” Selwyn queried, calling up a virtual PC-style app on his phone to get a better look at what William was seeing. “Most of these processes shouldn't even be active right now....let alone triggered via remote. I'd almost think Octavia installed something in Brittney, if Bradford hadn't mentioned that the whole thing was done without any physical contact between the two---”

Anton grabbed the phone out of his hand. “Octavia shut her down without touching her?!”

“Despite his....anxiety....Bradford's description of the event was very specific,” Selwyn replied. “And I'd like my phone back, thank you.”

“If we're all done being boffins for the time being,” Rae called out, “we're gonna need to shut her off in a matter of seconds---” Brittney's screaming cut her off for a second. “.....as I was saying, we're gonna need to shut her off soon, otherwise---SHUT UP, will you?!” She laid both arms across the shrieking gynoid's midsection, trying to hold her down on the table.

“Rae, the railing mount screws are giving out,” Galatea warned. “You might want to----”

A loud ping, followed by Brittney's left arm swinging out---its reach extended by the rail, still tightly secured via zip tie to her wrist---towards the chestnut-haired gynoid. Rae managed to dive out of the way in time to avoid getting hit, just as the railing smashed into a desktop tower PC on a nearby table.

“AS I WAS SAYING,” Rae shouted, “we need to turn her off before that happens again!”

“That won't be enough,” Anton muttered. “She's being attacked from the inside...and some of the viruses she's being hit with shouldn't even exist now!” He scrolled through the listing on his own phone's screen, shaking his head in disbelief. “Entity....Schazwort......Raprat?! Who the hell----how did someone find a sample of Raprat to infect her with---”

Galatea was at his side in an instant. “That one reads 'Aparat',” she corrected.

“That's even worse!” Anton groaned. “I wrote Aparat and Raprat when I was in the Great Dirty World Wide Web....and I deleted every single trace of the code for both of them at the request of the FBI! And before you ask about some random idiot finding a sample,” he added, “every anti-virus software since 1992 has three specific lines of code included for the SOLE PURPOSE of destroying both of those viruses.” He handed Galatea the phone. “The only way anyone could've had a copy of either of those viruses,” he intoned, “is if someone who handled GDW3's computers didn't wipe the drives when they were done running them through evidence processing---”

“SPECULATION LATER,” Rae shouted. “GYNOID RESTRAINT NOW!” Miss Hynde had pinned Brittney's left arm to the table; Kirsten, meanwhile, was standing by the right-hand rail on the table, ready to act if the need called for it. “Could we at least turn off her voice?!” she called out. “All that screaming is really annoying...”

Selwyn glanced at his phone, which was still showing off what was displayed on William's terminal. “Whatever Brittney is being attacked by, it's not exactly subtle---”

“WHO CARES ABOUT SUBTLETY?! JUST TURN HER OFF!”

Vicki ignored Rae's shouted order and moved to the terminal, cable in hand. “We can still get a glimpse of Octavia from the memory file I retrieved,” she reminded William. “If someone could hook me up---”

“Not a problem.” Selwyn took up one end of the cable, plugging it into the waiting terminal port.

“Thanks....now for my end.” With a quiet sigh, V.I.C.I hiked up her shirt again to reveal her still-opened panel, which accepted the other end of the cable without issues. “I'll upload the memory file to the ALPA servers, so you can focus on getting Brittney shut down before she damages herself or hurts anyone here.

“A great plan....but I don't know if the 'keep her from damaging herself' part is going to hold.”

William's comment prompted V.I.C.I to glance at the table where Brittney was still writhing---and she instantly regretted it. The “gangsta” gynoid had dislocated one arm, and her left foot lay unmoving on the floor, with the leg it had been connected to now thrashing around at everything in range. Her other leg, still lashed to the table with a zip tie, showed signs of servo stress beneath the skin. “SOMEBODY TURN HER THE BLOODY HELL OFF,” Rae screamed, “OR I'LL RIP OUT HER BATTERIES WITH MY OWN HANDS IF I HAVE TO!”

I'll shut her off in a minute....I need to finish the upload first----”

A gout of fire issued from Brittney's mouth, just as Kirsten chose to duck behind an overturned chair.

Anton looked close to tears as the cacaphony continued. “We need to shut her off now, Vicki! She's circling the drain!”

Rae's hands were scrambling for the switch on Brittney's neck. “ENOUGH OF THIS----”

Without warning, the room went dark....for two seconds.

Before William could vocalize the profanity he was about to yell, the monitor before him kicked on, its soft blue glow bathing him (and Selwyn) in a welcome light. “What.....what just happened?”

I did.

All eyes turned to V.I.C.I, standing near the table where the now-silent Brittney Delacroix lay. “I overloaded the power core inside Brittney,” she explained, “and effectively linked her to the generator...her core wasn't designed to handle that type of power, so the last bit of her CPU that wasn't under external control instigated a shutdown routine. Because her systems thought this room was linked up to her, everything here shut down as well....” She nodded as the lights began to turn back on. “....and that'll be the failsafes kicking on to make sure that nothing was lost during that brief blackout.

“The memory file,” Anton cut in. “Did it upload?”

In response, V.I.C.I only nodded towards the monitor....where the image of a 20-something African-American female, with sea-green eyes, a chocolate brown blouse and black dress pants was fading into view.

“Octavia,” William murmured. “The Dragon....somehow, I expected----”

“The next words out of your mouth had better not be 'green and scaly',” Galatea began, only to hear someone nearby weeping profusely. She turned to glance at Kirsten---but the dirty-blonde gynoid was only mildly shaken up, waving off the offer to be helped up. “Other than the possibility of that noise being stuck in my head,” she admitted, “I'll be okay....”

She stopped. Noticed the chestnut-haired figure slumped in a seated position next to the table, her head buried in her hands. “....but I think she may need some help,” she quietly added.

Rae....” V.I.C.I moved to kneel by her fellow Field Agent. “It's over. Brittney's been shut off---”

“I need to get out of here.” Without even looking at the brunette gynoid, Rae nearly tripped over herself as she stood up. “DAMN it.....” She careened off the side of a work table, tears still streaming down her face with every step on her way to the door; an utterance of “calling her from the damn car park” could faintly be heard as she passed by Miss Hynde.

Seconds later, the door slammed, leaving the room and its occupants in silence.

“Do...we need to go after her?” Kirsten quietly asked.

Not yet. We know what Octavia looks like...now we need to find out where she is.” As she spoke, V.I.C.I circled around the table where Brittney Delacroix's terminally-damaged form lay.

“And what about her?” Kirsten nodded at Brittney. “Is she.....well....”

It was Anton who replied. “She can be repaired....but not by us. ReVerse will have to replace....I'd say about seventy-five percent of her internals. Maybe more, maybe less...”

“We'll cross that bridge when we get to it.” Vicki moved away from the table holding Brittney, shaking her head. “For now....we have a much bigger issue to deal with. The DVS knew---or at least had a very strong suspicion---that Drake would bring Brittney here, or try to find someone to hide him from them, and---” She paused, frowning slightly. “.....and speaking of Drake,” she added, “it looks like Brittney's screaming had an adverse effect on him. If the security camera footage is correct, he's already past the security fence....”

“He's a secondary concern,” Galatea stated. “I hate to admit it, but we kind of have to let him go, now.”
-------------------------------------------------
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by Propman » Fri Jul 17, 2015 2:00 pm

Brittney Delacroix shall be missed :)

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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Sat Jul 18, 2015 6:23 am

Propman wrote:Brittney Delacroix shall be missed :)
You'll recall that she CAN be repaired....just not at ALPA HQ. ;)
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DollSpace » Sat Jul 18, 2015 7:10 am

And Siskel & Ebert give this installment: two skeleton fingers up! (since I believe they're both dead) Keep writing; and when this is story is done, the next one will be even better!

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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Mon Jul 20, 2015 1:39 pm

“...and I assure you, she won't be a problem anymore.”

Octavia smiled as she reported the news of Brittney Delacroix's incapacitation; she had no reason not to smile, in all honesty. Two of the most annoying “assets” of the DVS had been dealt with---well, one had been dealt with, the other was still on the run, but not posing any imminent threat---and Epsilon would soon be defeated.

What of the 'star Field Agent' in the employ of the Artificial Lifeform Protection Agency?

“Lawson will pose no threat. The ALPA has no information on me other than rumours and hearsay, and anyone who does know anything will unknow it soon enough....” The new head of United Robotronics paused, frowning, as the door to the conference room opened; a self-propelling cart of some kind was wheeling in, bearing a human-sized capsule. “A....house-warming present, Baron?”

Your own Kendall. Her memories were recovered from what was left of her predecessor.

“Including the memory of her own destruction?”

“....consider it an extra form of motivation. An incentive to succeed where her...previous self failed.

As the Baron spoke, Octavia circled the capsule, her chin cupped in one hand. “And this punishment won't lead her to....question your authority?” she inquired. “Or mine?”

She will not question you unless your own decision-making is....less than satisfactory.”

“That won't be a problem, I can assure you.” Octavia glanced at her other hand, which absently brushed along the capsule's surface–-the thought of her own artificial nature, of the servomotor assemblies, wiring and other minute components hidden beneath the toffee-coloured skin provoking a surprising number of feelings within her processors. “You designed me to be your heir, after all,” she added---quietly, as if the remark was meant as much for herself as it was for the Baron. “You wouldn't leave your empire in the hands of a....flawed product, would you?”

A low, rumbling chuckle sounded from the speakers mounted all around the room.

Flawless, bleached amalgam teeth smiled from behind gel-filled lips---any other response from the gynoid would've meant her doom. Of course, she'd been created by the Baron to serve his interests...and if those meant her own destruction, then she would accept it. Besides, there were five more versions of her---currently nothing but empty shells---waiting to receive her full programming and personality suite if her current body were to suddenly cease functioning. That had been Brittney Delacroix's fatal flaw, in the end---she knew what she was, but at the same time, believed herself capable of fulfilling the Baron's will on her own. Octavia had done her predecessor a favour by ruining her via remote uplink, really.....

“Introspection can do great things, Octavia....but now is scarcely the time.”

“Of course. The thought merely occurred to me that the Lawson girl may pose more of a threat to the capture and destruction of Epsilon than anticipated....” It wasn't quite a lie---one of Octavia's background processes was, indeed, working on the problem of how to most efficiently eliminate Vicki Lawson. “And the Sanderson girl your agents failed to turn---”

“Fail?” a giggling, almost musical voice called out. “We didn't fail....”

“We planted a seed,” another voice called out, “that grew and grew....”

Octavia frowned. “You never said I'd be working with these two,” she called out, just as a pair of stunningly beautiful women---one redhead, one brunette---walked into the room. “I was expecting to be teamed up with the men under Bradford's employ, to be honest....”

The redhead put a hand to her bosom, feigning offence. “You don't want to work with us?”

“I don't think she recognizes our potential,” the brunette replied. “She doesn't know what we're capable of---”

ENOUGH.” The single word, resounding through the room like a peal of thunder, cut off all further discussion of potential and other such topics. “Harmony, Melody,” the Baron's voice intoned, “consider this your redemption for your past mistakes with Greendale. Epsilon is your new target. Do not fail me again....unless you wish to discover, first hand, the fate that befell your 'sister'.....”

Harmony and Melody nodded, the smiles effectively vanishing from their faces. “We won't make the same mistakes that Cadence made,” Harmony solemnly replied.

“And we won't let Epsilon escape,” Melody added. “We'll destroy ourselves to stop him if we have to....” Her words prompted an alarmed glance from Harmony, but the Baron spoke up before the redhead (or Octavia, for that matter) could protest. “Then go, and ensure that Epsilon does not continue to elude us....and as for you, Octavia, see to it that all who stand between yourself and the retrieval of Epsilon are....punished.

“It would be my pleasure, Baron.”

An almost inaudible hum signalled that the speakers had turned off. The Baron cared little for the formalities of greetings and farewells unless ceremony called for it---which, in this case, it didn't. Epsilon needed to be taken down, the Lawson girl needed to be removed from the picture, and the status quo needed to be restored to what the DVS wanted. Naturally, Octavia would distance herself from the group in public and act “of her own accord”, carrying out the Baron's will within United Robotronics and ensuring the DVS had a foothold in the international robotics market---and, possibly, grander stages---for years to come....

“....hmmm, hmm-hmmm-hmm, da, da da da da daaaaa....hmm, hmm-hmm-hmmmmm, hmmm, hmm-hmm hmmmm....” Harmony (or Melody---it was difficult to tell which, without looking) had decided to start humming the March of the Toreadors; under other circumstances, Octavia might have reprimanded the pair of them.

Then again, it was hard to deny that she did enjoy the thrill of playing such a dangerous game as this......
-------------
From her vantage point in the Baron's office, Celine heard the entire conversation with Octavia, concluding with the command that would, in all probability, be the first shot in this newest cold war: “...and as for you, Octavia, see to it that all who stand between yourself and the retrieval of Epsilon are....punished.”

It would be my pleasure, Baron.

The monitors clicked off, and the room was silent once more....at least, for a few seconds. “Celine....” The Baron's voice came in as clear as if he were actually in the room, instead of across the ocean---the speaker system he'd had installed in his own office was that good. “I understand that the two gynoids I requested you activate have not yet been---”

“There was a problem,” Celine stated, a bit too quickly for her own liking. “The facility is being monitored, after the incident at the old G-Block building.”

A few more seconds of silence....

“We need to find an alternative,” the gynoid continued. “Trying to actually destroy Epsilon, or even to capture it, will only bring more unwanted attention to us. The ALPA will be looking for all freelancers, like Hewlett and Packard....” The thought occurred to her that she was talking rather rapidly---too fast, in fact, to simply be offering sage advice. “And the Sanderson girl---we can have a retrieval team out for her in half an hour...” A strange, recurring sound, getting louder with each repetition, was cutting into her words; she ignored it, carrying on speaking. “Surveillance teams could probably be placed at each intersection of San Jose, possibly even at the University---”

CELINE.

Every sound in the room died. The lights, by contrast, seemed to brighten just enough to be irritating---not fully blinding, but not welcoming....and in that moment, Celine realized the recurring sound had been the Baron speaking, repeating her name to remind her that he was present...if not in the flesh, than at least through the monitoring system. Something wet streaked down her cheek....

“You are dismissed,” the Baron continued, “for the remainder of the week. Your pay check will not be altered in any way during this time....” A low, slow breath sounded. “....and the next time you attend work in the wake of some personal tragedy,” he added, “you would do well to visit the on-site therapist.” Without another word, the feed from the Baron's foreign office cut out.

Two seconds later, Celine sank to her knees and wept.

The call from the Patriarch had come in an hour earlier---fifteen House agents in Jakarta had been, in his own words, obliterated. Among the group were two gynoids Celine had considered her sisters---theirs was the closest to a genetic familial bond, and they had even filed for a shared housing application a month prior.

And now they're gone.

Celine knew that the Baron suspected her of being a double-agent. She also knew that he had a team on her trail a month ago---he'd readily admitted to it when she asked, on the grounds of “reinforcing his control” over all potential security issues. Three men she'd been on dates with in as many months had vanished---one was found, wandering the streets of Tucson at 2 in the morning, dance-walking and staring up at the night sky with a crazed smile. The other two were never heard from again. As for the team that had been trailing her, a missing persons report sitting on her desk was a stark reminder of what happened to those who failed to live up to the Baron's high standards.

Even the mundane details of her life had been altered in her employ to the Baron. She hadn't worn her hair in its “natural” color since being hired by United Robotronics (and subsequently being transferred to her current job as the Baron's secretary); it was nearly impossible for her to picture hersef with anything other than the flowing crimson locks she'd sported for well over two years now...not that it mattered, now. Any proof that she was anything less than a loyal secretary would be her doom.

Sooner or later, she would meet the same fate that her sisters had. It was only a matter of time.

Failing to make the call for the two Epsilon-hunting gynoids wouldn't be what killed her. She'd made similar mistakes before, and been reprimanded with varying degrees of severity. It was a scare tactic, and a not-so-subtle warning: the BIG mistake, whatever it would be and whenever it would happen, would be her last.

Composing herself, and dabbing at her eyes to dry the tears, Celine gathered her things and headed for the door, hoping that her car would be where she'd left it in the car park. A relocated vehicle might not mean anything, or it might mean that the last thing her ocular sensors would pick up after turning the ignition would be a spark, then a fireball....stop it. He told you to go see the therapist, not that you should get fitted for your funeral-wear..... She dismissed the thought. In the end, her own fate was irrelevant, for the time being. Keeping her cover intact (or not compromising it any further) was all that mattered. Thus, she'd have to toe the same line Octavia was expected to follow....no matter how far down the Baron's path it would lead.

On her way to the door, she checked her phone---another call from the Patriarch. In all probability, the fallout from the Jakarta mission was still ongoing; ther possibility that more agents of the House had died wasn't lost on the crimson-haired gynoid.

Without hesitation, Celine turned off her phone. The call could wait.

Keeping the DVS from getting to Epsilon was top priority.
-------------------------------------------------
"No one steals our chicks.....and lives!"

australopith
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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by australopith » Mon Jul 20, 2015 10:34 pm

DukeNukem 2417 wrote:
Propman wrote:Brittney Delacroix shall be missed :)
You'll recall that she CAN be repaired....just not at ALPA HQ. ;)
The original Boom-Boom is sitting spellbound in Chad's den chair, reading your story and worrying about her namesake.

"Dang–all these stories an' I never seen her happy, or really satisfied–about nothin'... it's just wrong, you dig? Never got to meet her an' make out with her, either."
"Parting is such sweet sorrow–huh, Beebs?"
"Chad, please."
"Boom-Boom–I mean, boss, I don't even think she's real..."
"Not in this world, punk. But if I can be, then she can. An' when Boom-Boom–THIS Boom-Boom–ain't livin' the screwed-up life you wanted her to live, she do think about how other bots' lives could be better."
"And you want to make out with her."
"Yeah, an' I–HEY!"

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Re: The V.I.C.I. Diaries - The Dragon

Post by australopith » Tue Jul 21, 2015 6:54 am

[Attempted to delete post. Can't. Read the previous one, fellas and gals...]
Last edited by australopith on Sat Jul 25, 2015 7:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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