The V.I.C.I Diaries - Broken (Part 12)

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DukeNukem 2417
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The V.I.C.I Diaries - Broken (Part 12)

Post by DukeNukem 2417 » Fri Oct 14, 2016 6:45 am

None of the Field Agents had uttered a single word when Vicki boarded the transport that would bring her to the latest Epsilon sighting---just as Vicki herself hadn't spoken when she took her seat. The silence wasn't out of some misplaced sense of urgency, or of “professionalism”; every single person onboard the transport was simply too busy thinking about all the ways their mission could go horribly wrong if even one factor went beyond their control.

As for Vicki, her silence was far easier to explain.

She hadn't spoken since boarding the transport because the words of Oberon still echoed throughout her thought processes: “You'll know.”

Thus far, she didn't know---handling the Epsilon situation would take more than a vague assurance, which was all Oberon had left her with. She didn't even know what she was supposed to know....or how it would be in any way relevant to keeping Epsilon safe, or at the very least stopping him before anyone else got hurt.

Riding to the site of the Epsilon site took far less time than anyone expected---it was almost too quick, at least for Vicki. The silence only added a feeling of emptiness---a definite, almost tangible stillness, that nobody in the transport wanted to admit to. The normal pre-op “rituals”---cleaning and checking weapons, pre-op banter, and the occasional dirty joke---were all absent. None of the Field Agents present were particularly looking forward to dealing with Epsilon; many of them had, before leaving, just been notified of Clive DuBraul's sudden incapacitation, and the resurgence of his illness...

...Vicki couldn't bring herself to look at those members of the group who were weeping silently.

After what felt like only ten minutes, despite the onboard clocks (and Vicki's internal chronometer) confirming that the ride had lasted forty minutes, the transport lurched to a stop.

As one, the Field Agents rose from their seats. Several of them shouldered their weapons.

The voice of the group's senior Agent, declaring “unknown hostiles sighted”, did nothing to calm them.

The ES-9950 that had been given to Vicki Lawson with her Field Agent license had already cleared its holster, held at the ready by the brunette gynoid as she followed her colleagues out. The question of “What now?” had barely formed on her lips....

...and almost on command, the voice of Oberon rose up in her thoughts again: “You'll know.”

Blinking away the thoughts that accompanied those two words, Vicki paused on the threshold of the transport, closed her eyes.....

….and, as V.I.C.I, opened them again, stepping out to join her fellow Field Agents.

“We've got a possible EMP ordnance in the area,” one Agent called out, shielding his brow as he checked his op-issued phone. “Some of you might want to stay back, let us clear the field---”

Not an option. If Epsilon is being tracked, we need to confirm---”

The crunch of metal on metal---a car being smashed into another, more than likely---sounded several blocks away from the ALPA team's point of arrival. “I think we can 'confirm' that Epsilon needs to be contained ASAP,” another Field Agent stated. “We should move into position to surround and---” A pained howl split the air, followed by another metal-on-metal crunch.

You still want to surround him?” V.I.C.I challenged. “He's hurt. We need to get him out of here!

“That was never in the mission parameters,” a female Agent snapped. “We're here to---”

Her left arm exploded in a shower of metal, plastic and sparks just below the elbow, prompting two other Field Agents to surround her and aim their weapons at the possible source of the shot. “Snipers,” one of them breathed. “We've been baited....”

Or we are the bait,” V.I.C.I quietly added. “Epsilon knows us....knows of us....”

“So we find the sniper, and you deal with Epsilon,” the damaged Agent hissed. “It won't do us any good if we all get shot to hell trying to get him out of here!”

To her credit, V.I.C.I had already targeted the sniper---or rather, the Walther WA-200 sniper rifle on a motorized and timer-driven tripod, with a remote-fire mechanism rigged up to a second timer---even as the other Agent was still speaking. “I've got its position locked in,” she informed her colleagues. “Three buildings away, aiming trajectory---” She moved her head slightly to the side, just as a bullet impacted the brick wall a few feet behind her. “....you get the idea,” she finished.

A pair of Field Agents broke from the group, rapidly making their way towards a dumpster that would give them access to the roof they'd need to climb to reach the kitbashed automated turret.

We need to keep moving,” the brunette gynoid stated, not watching the Agents do their work. “Whoever's tailing Epsilon probably has more emplacements just like that one set up---” Another bullet hit her in the right shoulder, but the armor of her uniform---and her own construction---left her unphased as the spent round fell to the pavement. “....like I was saying, we need to keep going.”

Her arm still sparking from where she'd been shot, the damaged Field Agent scowled. “You want us to go with you after Epsilon?”

Would you rather stay here and let a few more bullets hit you?

The damaged Field Agent, and the pair on either side of her, knew all too well that V.I.C.I was leaving no room for argument. “....my right hand is my shooting hand, so I'm not out of this yet.”

Good to hear. And you two?

“Never leave a man behind,” one of the Field Agents intoned. “Learned that lesson a long time ago.” The other Agent simply nodded silently.

Then let's go---and stay quiet.”

With a closed-hand, military-style point towards a far building corner, V.I.C.I guided her comrades in arms towards a spot that would shield them from the sniper rifle. The two Agents flanked their damaged colleague, with V.I.C.I taking the lead and giving hand signals–-stop, slow down, go forward–-to the others. In a little under two minutes, the group had reached cover....all while the pained roars of Epsilon could be heard in the distance. Behind---and above---the group, the two Field Agents who'd decided to disarm the automated Walther turret were still working to keep the thing pointing away from V.I.C.I.'s group; occasionally, it would swivel around to fire towards its intended targets, but the Agents would forcibly override its targeting and have it shoot a pile of nearby roofing tiles or some other harmless object.

From their new cover, the group could see smashed cars, cratered pavement and other signs that what little sanity Epsilon had left was fading fast. “Nobody approach Epsilon unless I give the signal,” V.I.C.I warned, moving to break cover and intercept the man/machine hybrid before anything got too far out of hand. “I'll assess the situation.”

“You're going after him alone?” one Agent inquired. “After what happened last time---”

Last time was different. I'm focusing on this time.”

Leaving her fellow Field Agents behind---before they could protest---V.I.C.I quietly moved at a half-crouching run towards an overturned car, hoping to use it as cover in case Epsilon decided to attack her.

Whether luck or coincidence had any part in Epsilon's latest sighting having been reported at a largely empty suburban area, it was little comfort to the brunette gynoid. The only reason the place was empty was due to (depending on who was asked) an eminent domain case that had taken a bad turn, or a development contract funded through questionable means. Either way, it didn't matter---Epsilon's rampage here would eventually bring him back to San Jose if someone didn't do something soon.

Obviously, the “someone” who had to do something was V.I.C.I herself.

A quick glance around the corner of the overturned car allowed V.I.C.I to see the spray-painted side wall of a strip mall---specifically, a side wall that had been caved in by extreme blunt force trauma. Bricks sprayed with neon green and yellow lay on the ground where Epsilon had attacked the wall.

The realization hit her rather abruptly: the place was, in fact, very familiar. Jamie and I have been here before, she noted, even as another thought process calculated the probability of Epsilon's return. Harriet's going-away party, before she left to get her cancer treatments....this used to be a Lazer Tag arena----

A scream---distorted nearly beyond recognition, but still somewhat recognizable---echoed through the air.

He's close....I have to be ready for----

The feel of her foot brushing against something cut the gynoid Field Agent's thoughts off. She didn't need to look down to know that she'd just stepped on a human hand---or rather, a gynoid hand, attached to an arm with still-sparking wires emerging from its shoulder. The slender extremity was still trying to grasp at things---more specifically, it was grasping at V.I.C.I's foot. Slowly, the Field Agent knelt to retrieve the arm; the skintone matched her own, though the fingernails were painted, and the hand wore three rings. So this place wasn't as abandoned as I thought....

With a mental reminder to seek out the owner of the arm and return it to them for reattachment, V.I.C.I made her way to the front of the strip mall---and could barely avoid wincing. A headless, one-armed gynoid, still trying to run away from whatever had torn her arm off, had been flung through the plate-glass window of an insurance office like a caber. Her denim jacket and shorts had survived, other the jacket missing its left sleeve.

Guess we know whose arm this is,” the Field Agent mused, looking down at the still-twitching left arm she held by the wrist. “I'm hoping her head is still intact...”

A human Field Agent would've tread carefully, to avoid getting glass shards through the soles of their shoes or boots. V.I.C.I had no need to be so meticulous, and only moved slowly to avoid catching the attention of Epsilon or whoever (or whatever) was pursuing him. He's still in the area. He's still in pain, and he's getting worse by the minute----

The report of the Walther PA-2000 briefly caused her to tense up. Apparently, the turret was still going.

It's not firing at me. It's not even targeting me....focus on the mission. She made her way forward, setting the severed gynoid arm down near its still-moving body. If the building didn't collapse before the op was finished, the arm and the gynoid could easily be brought to an ALPA-sanctioned repair shop---

About 20 feet away, another car was flipped over with a sickening crunch.

Even as another roar split the air, V.I.C.I checked her borrowed sidearm---full clip, already oiled---and brought it to bear. All non-essential thought processes were suspended.

Showtime.
-------------------------------------
“...and for the last time,” Max Mills sighed, “if I deploy Helios too early, we have maybe a three-minute window to get the hell out of here before someone realizes we were ever in the area to begin with. Also, even though I appreciate the gesture of solidarity, you really could've stayed back at your office---”

A withering glare from Octavia shut him up.

The two had met, as per the agreement made during their earlier phone conversation, to discuss how best to use the Helios program to take Epsilon down. Ever since then, Octavia had felt....restless. It wasn't an entirely new sensation, but it was....more intense, than she'd ever felt it before. She couldn't quite place the reason for it (other than having to work with someone as loathsome as Max Mills---which, in and of itself, shouldn't have been the trigger for such feelings), but she did her best to ignore it for the time being.

“....anyway, we need to wait until Epsilon is in range before Helios is activated,” Mills stated---apparently, he hadn't noticed Octavia's introspective pause at all. “If it's too far out of range, it'll do nothing. If Helios can't get a lock on it, it'll target any other androids or gynoids in the area---which would be a PR nightmare.”

Octavia barely turned to glance at Mills. “....it could target others?”

“Your people made Helios, Miss Martinet. I was able to reifne it....but I couldn't fix it.”

“I somehow expected 'refining' it to include 'fixing' it,” Octavia mused, her lips almost curling in a smirk---hiding the slightest twinge of fear at the possibility of Helios targeting her if Epsilon wasn't in range.

Mills, predictably, missed that twinge. “...some girl is in range of Helios,” he muttered, scowling. “I'm narrowing the area-of-effect radius....and do you care at all that Epsilon is just outside of targeting range?” He glanced over at Octavia. “You've been on cloud whatever since we got here---you're distracted.” Even as the head of United Robotronics turned to stare at him, he continued: “You've been acting weird ever since we met up for the drive here---”

“How I act,” Octavia stated, “is none of your concern.” There was a hint of anger in her words---enough to lead Max to recoil slightly as she continued. “Your 'display' of Helios at my offices was unsanctioned, and more to the point, uncalled-for....” She stopped, glancing at her hand; that warm feeling was back, but...stronger.

If Mills found this strange, he kept it to himself. “What kind of processor is Epsilon running on?”

“A human brain.” The words came easily. “Epsilon is running on---”

“Auditory mutator fifty-seven, then....” Max keyed a sequence of numbers into the laptop, stifling a yawn with each keystroke. “So....why exactly do you people want Epsilon out of the picture to begin with?” he inquired, not looking up from the laptop. “If I had that kind of tech---”

The fact that Octavia had grabbed his wrist was less surprising than the fact that it acutally felt hot---as in, her grip was warmer than a fresh cup of coffee. He tried to wrench his arm away, but Octavia held firm. “Believe me, Mr. Mills,” she hissed, “you don't want 'that kind of tech'.” Every syllable held an undeniable menace. “If you knew even a sliver of what went into the creation of Epsilon.....” Even as her stare held Max's gaze, she practically threw his arm aside, allowing him to massage his wrist. “Just be ready to activate Helios,” she muttered, finally turning her attention to her hand---clearly, this was beyond just a minor software issue....

“I'll be ready,” Max assured her, still rubbing his own wrist to try and get the feeling back into it. “The hell's got you so hot under the collar, anyway?”

Octavia nearly snapped at him for that remark,only to be distracted by Helios' targeting beacon. “Epsilon is entering the targeting parameter....” She slyly glanced at Max. “Ready to prove your worth, Mr. Mills?”

The mood swing perturbed Max, but he brushed it off. “Are you?”
-------------------------------------
He knew.

No word had reached his cell; no further calls had been allowed after his “message” to Vicki. If anything, all communication had been cut off specifically to prevent him from reaching her again---even if he only intended to offer advice.

And still, he knew.

He knew before the attendant---they weren't called guards in this place, even though they basically were---had approached his cell door. He knew because, when he'd sworn in front of the ALPA's President that he was going to kill Epsilon, he'd seen the proof---another stupid decision that would now haunt him for the rest of his life. He didn't acknowledge the attendant as the man unlocked the door to his cell, gesturing for two others to enter....he stared at the floor, refusing to look up.

“Oberon. We have....an update, on the situation---”

“Then say it.” The former Chairman's eyes closed; he'd been dreading this part.

“Clive DuBraul....he's not doing too well. They found him on the floor, in a room he was using for an office....he had---”

“I know,” Oberon hissed, his eyes still closed. “It got worse. He had another attack, and now he's in hospital.”

“.....it's worse than that, I'm afraid. He's dying.”

Now, Oberon opened his eyes. “Dying?”

“They don't see him making it through the night...he was in pretty bad shape when they found him....he wanted you to know.”

“To know that he's dying, after I insulted him to his face over not wanting me to kill Epsilon?!”

“To know that you're forigven, for that particular incident. Didn't want it on his conscience when he shuffled off this mortal coil, in his own words...an impressive gesture, to be---”

A choked sob escaped Oberon's throat.

“....he asked that you be told, before the trial begins.....apparently, he didn't want you to worry about it before you took the stand.....” More than one person backed away from the cell, as if they knew what was coming next. “....Oberon, he wanted you to know---”

Whatever was meant to be said next was drowned out in a wounded, animal howl.

To those standing outside of Oberon's cell, it looked as if the former Chairman was losing his mind---kneeling, fists clenched at his sides as he stared up at the ceiling and screamed incoherently, he definitely appeared to be the epitome of madness. Of course, to the one figure standing next to him, trying to tell him why Clive had wanted him to know he was dying, the truth of the moment was clear: as Clive DuBraul was dying, so, too, was a part of Oberon.

“We're all sorry for your loss...” As soon as Oberon stood, shakily, the speaker of those six words backed out of the cell, the door slamming shut just as the ex-Chairman punched the wall. “And for DuBraul's....” A sigh followed the name of the dying ALPA President. “....I'll leave you to grieve.” One final set of footsteps backed away from the cell, Oberon's screams echoing from behind the closed door.

Nobody would be sleeping easily that night....he knew. They all knew.
-------------------------------------
"No one steals our chicks.....and lives!"

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Re: The V.I.C.I Diaries - Broken (Part 12)

Post by Baron » Sat Oct 15, 2016 9:52 pm

Stellar as usual, Old Chap. :mrgreen:

To be honest though, I much prefer the longer cycle for a given chapter - cutting a narrative such as this one down to bite-sizes is akin to putting a Thanksgiving dinner through a Waring Blender on "puree" setting. Sure, it'll be less rich and a bit easier to digest initially, but a lot of both the nutrients and the basic flavor will be lost as a trade-off IMHO, if you follow my analogy?

Leave us not forget that my fellow "Lawson's Eleven" comrade Kishin himself pioneered the "mega-saga" with his groundbreaking {and HUGELY inspirational} Nova series, back in the day. No one need fear big chapters; if nothing else, they add wonderful variety, you know? :wink:

Either way, keep up the FINE work!!!
Assemble the ladies? I didn't know that they were broken......

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Re: The V.I.C.I Diaries - Broken (Part 12)

Post by LongTimeLurker » Tue Oct 18, 2016 8:18 am

Duke, glad to see another chapter! I would agree with Baron that a longer format might serve you better here.

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