It's Just Business

[The Future Warrior]

The harsh glare of green light overwhelmed her vision, blocking out anything else. It was accompanied by something which registered as a screeching whine of static and rushing wind. The most startling prospect was the physical feeling of being tossed around, end over end, like tumbling downhill but not actually impacting anything.

For several seconds, which she suspected would have been unbearably nauseating and sickening for most living beings she was subjected to such treatment. Then it abruptly ended, and she found herself sprawled out spread-eagle on the ground. Or rather...on the floor. A floor composed of smooth, well-kept material, not at all like the cracked and weather stone floor of the bunker facility she had just been in.

"Teleportation..." she muttered, not even bothering to so much as move just yet. "Is it always such a jarring experience?"

"Only when they use the low-end gear." The voice of Smythe spoke up from near at hand, somewhere off to her left. "I'm not important enough to warrant anything really special. You bein' as big as you are probably also threw it off. I sorta, uh...forgot to specify the extra bits when I called in for a 'port for two."

"Your attention to details is second only to your willingness to divulge them." While her tone had always been rather dry, this time it was positively desert-like. And while she couldn't see him, she could almost feel her companion (for the moment) flinch in response. Inevitably, however, she brought her arms about and put palms to floor, pushing herself up and onto her knees so she could get a look around.

It looked like some kind of...well, some kind of loosely scientific facility was her best guess. There was no shortage of equipment and technicians using it to make that much clear, though there was a surprising number of armed and armored personnel present as well. Many of which were eyeing her with something only a few steps down from open hostility, and who handled their weapons with the kind of readiness only someone expecting to need to open fire in the next ten seconds could.

"I am not welcome here," she said after only a few seconds of observation. It wasn't a question, just a note of her acknowledgement of that fact.

"Yeah, uh...like I said, I sorta forgot some specifics when I called in for our trip back here," Smythe mumbled sheepishly. "Just don't...don't make any sudden moves. I'll see what I can do to keep them from blowin' you to bits. Least I can do after you did my job for me, eh?"

"...yes. I suppose it is. May I at least shift to a less precarious sitting posture?"

"Huh? Ah, yeah...whatever. Just stay put, okay?" And he pulled down the hood of his raincoat. Dark hair, on both his head and struggling to grow something resembling a beard. Were it not for the artificially gleaming silver-green eyes and the almost sickly hue to what would have otherwise been fair and lightly-toned skin, he would have been indistinguishable from a human. The oddity of such a...mostly convincing synthetic with such glaring giveaways was puzzling to her, though she made no mention of it.

It had already been established that this was definitely not her home. Perhaps the standards of construction and integration were just that level of different here.

Ashe slowly shifted around, off of her knees and leaning back to sit down and crossed her legs before her, hands resting on her knees. The arms behind her back twitched and flexed, hands lightly curling and uncurling into fists. It seemed as if the chaotic teleport may have had some benefit after all, as basic function seemed to be returning to them. She would consider that a definite plus, even if it had come as a result of being ripped potentially halfway a cross an alien world and into a very nearly hostile encounter.

But she would do as bidden. Self-preservation and logic both dictated that she simply stay put, wait, and observe. Learn what she could from looking around, listening in to what went on, and try to seem non-threatening so she didn't find out what kind of firepower those weapon-toting guards were really packing.

And pray that Smythe actually came through and got this handled.

 

[The Future Warrior]

Sitting idle for long periods of time was frustrating regardless of who or what you were, she suspected. It was no different for her, though probably made slightly worse with the utterly foreign environs and the lack of knowledge of what was going on or her eventual fate.

And the armed guards who seemed to be growing increasingly anxious about her presence.

She did her best to put them out of mind, of course. Instead she had other things to occupy her focus. Like the gaggle of technicians and science-looking sorts who had come in minutes after her arrival her via that ridiculous teleportation fiasco. They were like excited children in a shop of candy, the way they were going about dealing with the retrieved energon. It was of course interesting to her, for the fact they didn't seem too worried about being overheard while talking about it. What exactly it was and what they were planning with it.

She already had some idea what they intended for it, of course, just from Smythe's original efforts to get her to go and retrieve it. But this was even more than that. An energy source, of which she had already gathered. A very potent and volatile one, especially as it turned out this particular cache of it had been weaponized. That concept was above and beyond her, but from what she overheard and could piece together with a few careful hops in logic...it seemed as if the stores of it she had tracked down were not the raw substance, but a carefully manufactured and processed form molded into some sort of ammunition, or consumable matter for weapon use. The idea was absurd, in her mind. It sounded far easier to just process the raw material into a form which was volatile, assuming it wasn't already so, and simple use that.

But. She was not a scientist or a developer of weapons. Nor, as it happened, was she exceptionally creative with any kind of overly intricate process or design. So perhaps it actually was a good plan, in concept, and simple sounded utterly absurd in a passing idea format as she could understand it. She would never know. Upon realizing that it was dangerous and intended to be taken off to have whatever had been done to it undone (or mostly undone, as it happened) so that it could be used for fuel again, her interest in it sharply waned.

She was left to sit and wait for what she was sure most humans would have said 'felt like hours', and she might have too were it not for the unerringly accurate chronometers she had built in. It was perhaps half an hour, during which they had begun to have the energon containers dismantled and prepared for shipping off, before Smythe returned. No longer in his former messy and tattered exploratory garb, but now in a surprisingly well put-together suit. With him was another individual, dressed similarly though with a more...important flair. They paused inside the doors and spoke briefly to the guards, making them relax somewhat. Though Ashe couldn't hear what was said, she could see a few of them lightly flick something on their weapons. The safety, she would hope. If only to further alleviate her lingering fears of being turned into perforated scrap.

Smythe and his associate approached her with a purposeful stride, though the one with him did slow slightly as they drew near, staring up at her with wonder in his eyes. Even seated as she was, she still loomed easily twice his height. "You said she was big, R'casto, but not..." He trailed off, just shaking his head with an amused grin.

R'casto...that was what had been said shortly before the teleporting incident. "So the name you originally gave was false," she concluded, staring at the man she had formerly known as James Smythe. "That fact is at least alleviated by the knowledge that you are no discriminating in who you fail to divulge important details to."

"And she's every bit as humorless as you mentioned, too!" The other man could barely contain a laugh, during which Smythe -- that was, R'casto -- could only groan and hang his head. "Well...then this should go swimmingly." He strode forward the rest of the way, reaching up and extending a hand. "Special Agent Rohan Pense. This lunatic's superior."

It took her a moment to process what was happening. "....greetings," she finally said, with all the enthusiasm one might expect of being called in line at the DMV. She likewise extended a hand, her grasp swallowing Agent Pense's entire arm, as she accepted the handshake. If the look on his face was any indication, she suspected she may have forgotten to modulate her level of strength. Even without her augmentation or battle-grade systems online the sheer size difference would have made it...trivial to reduce his arm to powder, she suspected. "My apologies. I forget my own strength at times," she spoke while releasing his arm. It was a sincere statement, for once, though carried no real...impact, given her tone remained as flat as ever.

"It, uh...it's fine." He gently rubbed at his arm with the opposite hand. "Probably should've expected it. My fault entirely. Or...maybe we could blame it on R'casto withholding information again."

"Perhaps we can, yes," she agreed without hesitation. She knew full well that he would have no way to know that, but wasn't going to share that information.

"H-Hey!" the agent sputtered impudently. "Come on, now! You make it sound like I'm unreliable or something."

Never let it be said that robots couldn't be petty.

 

[The Future Warrior]

The frantic attempts of Not-Smythe-Actually-Named-R'casto to profess his innocence and the fact he was not, in fact, an incompetent information-hoarding buffoon went on for several minutes, much to the amusement of Agent Pense and the silent gratification of Ashe. It was only finally brought to a halt when the man stumbled over his words and bit his tongue, forcing him into momentary silence, during which Pense laughed heartily and promptly changed the subject.

"Alright, enough of that nonsense. We all know you're a forgetful lummox, R'casto, but you're still good at what you do." He waved a hand dismissively to silence the sputtering of a building complaint. "That isn't what we're here to talk about. We're here about your new friend." And he returned his gaze to Ashe, peering up at her with a sudden intensity that had been lacking until that point. "First things first...you already know who we are, but what about you? Happen to have a name or some kind of identifier?"

Ashe chose rather smartly not to mention the 'friend' comment. She most certainly did not view the obfuscating and frustrating man as anything remotely like a friend. Barely a tolerable co-worker, for the task she had been drafted into. "I had not been properly activated beyond testing phases, before my sudden arrival to the abandoned city where I encountered the one who possesses the superpower of information hoarding," she commented, and could visibly see the air get knocked out of R'casto in an almost comical fashion as he winced. His pride was taking a huge beating today, she could tell. "As such, I was never given a formal designation or identifier to be called by. My internal production line identification number should still be intact, however, and it is..." She trailed off, reaching up one arm to brush her hair aside and feel along the back of her neck.

"...worn away. Partially. What remains is..." She again left off, turning and leaning down as she pulled the unruly mess of hair aside to provide a clear enough view at where the label had been implanted.

"....yeah, it's pretty garbled and messed up, alright," Pense muttered in agreement. "About all that's left is...Ashe-0. So...Ashe. Guess that's what it'll be for you, then."

"That is acceptable." She let her hair fall back into place and straightened up again to sit up fully. "I will file it away properly to make sure it is recognized as a designation to respond to."

"Fantastic. Alright, then, Ashe....next matter. Seeing as you pulled R'casto's ass out of the fire and pretty much did his job for him, you've earned a little payment. Not as much as he would've earned, but...well. He tells me he also made a little deal. We'll just take the whole 'not blowing the giant robot to pieces' and 'free teleport to safety' out of the normal paycheck."

That was a frustrating revelation. It was far from something she couldn't' understand and agree with logically, but it made things no less irritating. She had not asked for either of those things, and would have been perfectly fine with the agreed upon directions to safety rather than being picked up and thrown through the Viridian Kaleidoscope to Insanity and dropped off here. Was she going to say any of that? Absolutely not. She had no desire to upset these people, not yet. There did appear to be some minor good which had come out of the chaotic tumble and teleportation energy. Some of her damaged systems seemed to have been shocked into a slow reboot status, and would hopefully work themselves into functionality given enough time.

"That is very generous of you." is what instead came out verbally. "It is appreciated. I will try to...what is the saying, 'not spend it all in one place'."

The dry, unamused way she said such a clearly playful and joking thing was...unnerving, and it showed in the way Pense and R'casto glanced at each other. "Well, glad we're on the same page then! Here ya are." And Pense produced a handful of what a brief glance could identify to her as credits, if they were of any similar function or nomenclature to her home world. Six individual chits, which he splayed out in his hand similar to playing cards to show them. "Payment of six thousand credits," he announced, confirming her suspicions. "For contracted services rendered per our mercenary clauses."

She simply nodded to that, and reached out her hand, palm up. Pense promptly tossed them over to land in her upturned hand, and she withdrew it to bring it closer to her face for a more focused look. Credits, six chits...each one had one thousand credits loaded onto it. It would have been quite a non-insignificant amount of currency back home. She could only assume it was at least similar here, if this was their supposedly their normal contract pricing. She would just carefully close her hand around them and shift to carefully deposit them in a pocket for now.. "Am I to assume that I am free to depart, at this point?"

"Sure, if ya like. We can get someone to show you along and outside, if you're ready to get going." Pense grinned. "And seeing as you do good work, feel free to come back anytime if you're looking for more work. I'm sure we can find something for you to do."

"....if I am ever in need of further currency, I will perhaps do so." She nodded, moving to stand up. The ceiling here was high, but she was still forced into a crouch. "But I am ready to depart for now."

"Sure, sure. R'casto, go fetch the lady a guide and let's get her outta here."

"....ten-roger, boss. Be back in five."

"Minutes, I do hope," Ashe muttered.

R'casto just sighed heavily in defeat, while Pense stifled a laugh.

 

[The Future Warrior]

It was not, in fact, 'five' at all. It was closer to seven. Though it was thankfully minutes and not some other obscure R'casto-defined unit of time, as she had suspected might possibly be the case.

But once those seven minutes were up, he thankfully returned with someone else in town. Another individual, dressed similarly to the both of them, though in a noticeably...shabbier-looking suit. He must have been lower down in their hierarchy, or just altogether not important. Being drafted for the monumental task of 'showing someone to the exit' essentially confirmed that before the poor boy had even been introduced.

He had looked absolutely terrified upon catching sight of Ashe, and could only stutter his acknowledgement that he understood the enormity of his task.

In some minor attempt to soothe his fears, Ashe did speak up after a moment. "Do not worry. I do not bite." That was a proper joke for an occasion like this, was it not? Judging by the way he jumped in surprise, she suspected her judgement might have been off...at least until he visibly relaxed ever so slightly and at least stopped trembling. "I am ready to depart. You will be showing me the way to the exit, I was lead to understand."

"Ah, uh, I...y-yeah!" He coughed, to clear his throat. "That is... Yes. Yes, I am. Th-This way. After me." And he turned around smartly, beginning to somewhat stiffly march away, only failing to conceal the nervous, awkward glances back over his shoulder once or twice.

And Ashe simply stepped forward, slowly lumbering along behind him in her awkward crouched posture. Trying not to bump the ceiling every few steps, especially when it came time to negotiate doors, proved to be a greater challenge than anything she had faced in the ruined city. That had been harrowing and tedious, not to mention fraught with the lurking specter of imagined risks...but in this scenario, there were other people around. Many of whom seemed to be so completely absorbed in their own tasks it was a wonder they could keep track of where they were going at all. Preventing herself from being walked into, or walking into someone else, while managing to keep from putting her head through the roof or getting her shaggy mane of hair caught in something or other...it was a real challenge.

It wasn't as if she was some battle-hardened, stealth-focused reptile who specialized in this sort of thing. That would be ridiculous.

Thankfully, though...the slog of an exit trip took only a few minutes, and an extremely precarious elevator ride. The elevator turned out to protest mightily at the sheer weight Ashe brought with her, and the resulting strain it underwent. "I hope there are no complications from this." It wasn't exactly her fault an elevator wasn't built to handle nearly four tons of war machine, after all. Holding her responsible for any damage would be absurd.

As luck would have it, it at least lasted long enough to make the descent...ascent? To make the trip to their destination floor. From there, it was all of an extra twenty seconds of walking before merging into a much more open room, which provided her ample room to stand. "And, uh...the doors outside are over there," her guide stammered, pointing off toward the other side of the room. The wall there was made of glass, heavily tinted to prevent outside viewers from looking in. Before Ashe could manage a response to her guide, he had disappeared, scurrying off back to wherever he had been dragged from like a frightened rodent.

"....what a very strange place."

Ashe disregarded that almost immediately and just strode across what she assumed was the foyer or some other entrance area of the place. Some kind of business, if what she had overheard was at all correct. She again crouched down, nearly dropping to one knee as she carefully squeezed her way out of the doors and into the streets outside....and immediately back into the rain.

It was at least a gentle, steady drizzle here rather than the torrential, silvery-gray drenching of the ruins. But even so...it was enough to dismantle any semblance of a positive mood she had begun to build up. "I despise this world."