Of Maidens and Mecha - Six

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XxX----XxX----XxX

Inside the Foundry, two sets of paths had been built throughout most sections. The first, and by far the largest, were large concrete slabs supported on heavy-duty, reinforced, cyber formed steel struts that snaked all across the facility. The second were smaller walkways that ran along the edges of each one, which smaller, Faunus staff used to meander throughout the facility, working just as diligently as their robotic brothers and sisters to keep everything running smoothly and production on schedule. They ran in and out of the curving sections, and through the blockier manufactories scattered throughout, running alongside and around work-stations, conveyors, storage units and processors of either side in a maze of metal, haze and steam.

Sienna despised being in it all… And didn't envy the workers that found a place there, metal or man.

"I've always wondered something." Her guide, the thin and wiry Juryrig, started boredly. He was tall, with a body built to match Shockwave's - which was always oh so very fun to see amnong the 'Bots - and long, simplistic, thin arms and legs built solely for his work. One arm widened into a blocky shape at the fore, where a dozen screens and read-outs blinked. And his face was just as purposeful, with a flat plate over the lower half and an array of optics covering the top that swiveled and swapped as he walked and looked around. "Why do you hate it in here so much?"

"I don't, really." She lied - the 'Bots took a lot of pride in the Foundry, now, and she knew better than to insult it. "I just… Everything's so tangled up and packed in tight I just, I dunno, I feel like there's an ambush around every corner."

"Ah, well, meh. Old instincts, I guess." Juryrig chuckled, cocking his head, "Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Kinda funny, though."

"Yeah?" She hummed, "And why's that?"

"Just, ya know…" He chuckled, "Considerin' the project you wanna check on."

"I mean…" She shrugged, "That won't have all the twists and turns."

"True, true." The dull red 'Bot laughed, "But if you want, I can arrange-"

"I'll put you on standard-only Energon rations." She warned, smirking, "No more of your fancy 'infused' shots."

"Oh, uh, okay now, c'mon, don't be rash, boss."

"I'm being petty." She pointed out, "Not rash."

Finally, they stepped into one of the large, broad-purpose duo-lifts that were scattered across the facility. Like the rest of the Foundry, it was made to suit both races - with wide, open standing areas for 'Bots surrounded by a web of walkways, ladders, micro-lifts and standing pads for their organic counterparts to use to access all the various inter-levels woven throughout the 'Bot levels. She'd need to cross the lift to get onto the right walkway once they reached the top, and Juryrigg knew that, offering his hand for her to step in and crossing the space far easily, lifting her up past his head level to let her out onto another walkway.

The lift let out on what was technically different levels for them - between the 'O' levels and the 'C' levels, it was practically a maze - so she had to walk for a few minutes on her own. But she knew the way well enough.

Down a ladder, and she was back on a walkway with Juryrig beside her, who huffed, "Can't you get lost once?"

"Why would I?" She asked, "So you can play hero?"

"I mean, yeah." He snorted, "Obviously."

"Not interested."

"Aw, c'mon, boss…"

Finally, they reached their destination - a recessed, quiet, and secure-access workshop where the big red 'Bot had been hard at work for months, now.

Inside, the shop was a mess of wires and crane-arms meandering across the walls, sometimes over and around the smaller walkways she had to use, with various 'Bot-sized arms, legs, and components secured randomly throughout the mess and a handful of weapons along with them. Shelves and work-tables protruded from the walls seemingly at random, covered with more of the same and with closed cases labeled 'optics', 'servos', 'oil' and a dozen other things, along with several 'Bot sized tool crates and spare parts bins shoved into the corners and under tables and shelves.

But, most importantly, dangling from the center of the room, was a large, boxy thing four times her size, with a hatch open on the front. Inside was a seat, surrounded by cables and ports and buttons.

"I just about have the haptic-feed finished up." He said, holding a hand out for her to step into and then turning to let her step in and lay down in the seat. "Little, uh, helmet- Right there, above your head."

It was an old Atlesian helmet from the war, one of the special recon ones with a variety of optical input systems built-in. She slid it on, though, and everything was black. "I… Don't see anything?"

"One click, cycling on the optic-tester." He said, "Lemme know how it goes… Now."

Suddenly, the world bloomed to life, digital code scrawling before her eyes before it faded and the room appeared. Albeit from several feet away, and up, so that she could see herself laying upside down. She turned, and the 'eyes' moved with her, letting her look around. At a thought, Juryrig liit up in blue, displaying information - from his age, to his industrial cart alt-mode, to what weapons he was packing and his temperature - before she dismissed it just as readily.

"Impressive." She murmured, "Very impressive."

"Thanks, boss." He smiled, turning to look at the optics he'd set up for her. "Gotta get 'em in a head to mount, but still. Ah, and, well…"

"What?"

"Got a heavy neural-coder in there right now, strapped to the underside- You can't see it, but it's there." He explained, "But it's too much of a power drain, running brain-scans and coding to specific people like that, and finicky too. Doesn't always work."

"I'm guessing you have an idea?"

"Mhm." He nodded, turning and picking up a long, thin, wiry thing and holding it up. "This is a neural-net fame. Down-sized for your types- Surgical installation, little slot at the base of your skull, and you can plug in."

"What does that give me?"

"Better control, fine-tuned neural reading between you and the machine, and best part?" He tapped a hand against his head, "Tactile feedback. You'll feel things like we do. Makes fighting so much easier. Working, too."

Sienna couldn't help but smile, "Perfect. When do we start testing?"

"I can have you under and the 'net in you by morning." He said, "Already tested it with a couple volunteers, no problems. You'll get to test the first 'frame, though."

"Let's get started." She said, reaching up to remove her headpiece. "It's about time my people were able to fend off the Leviathans, too."

"You… Know we don't mind, right?"

She didn't answer, pulling herself up and waving him off instead. Whether they cared or not wasn't the point, but Juryrig wasn't the type to understand that. He was a tinkerer, like a lot of the Cybertronians in the Foundry were now. Not a fighter, regardless of how good he still was in a scrap.

The ability to protect yourself, your own people? It was priceless.

They needed to level the playing field.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Blake came to with stiff limbs, a throbbing headache, a dry mouth, and an aching jaw. Her mouth was clogged up with a cloying, sweet and iron taste she couldn't get rid of, and when she tried to close her mouth, to work out the tightness in it, she bit down on a soft but firm piece of leather strapped around her face.

Her heart started to race, but she sucked in a breath-

When she'd left Menagerie, her mom's bodyguards had told her this could happen. Panicking wouldn't help anyone but whoever had her. She had to stay calm, stay smart, and bear it until she could find a way out. First thing was first, though…

Whoever had taken her had stripped her down to her training leotard, which left her little protection and none of her weapons - or her tracker, either, for that matter. She'd always hated it, her paranoia rebelling against it, but now she'd have loved for her mom to be able to send some flyers to her beacon. So that avenue was a dead end. The next thing to appraise was where she was.

When she opened her eyes, they ached as her eyes adjusted to the bright white fluorescent hanging from the ceiling.

The room was small and empty, and obviously had been emptied out for her - she could see a few small panels of cyber-steel that had been welded over where she was sure electrical sockets had been. And there were dust lines for a console and terminal to one side of the reinforced door, right where the ones in her mother's secure panic room had been. The door was a match too - typical, reinforced, Cybertronian forge style. Unlike her mom's, though, she was sure she didn't know the pin for the release on the middle of it.

And that her thumb print wouldn't match the extra print-scanner beside it…

The room was obviously Cybertronian, scaled down for people her size. But, as she pushed herself up on her hands and eased back on her legs - which had been bound at the ankles and knees, which was just wonderful - she realized that a lot of it didn't… Fit.

Some of the recessed lights were different sizes or shapes, subtly but still, and several of the panels on the roof had little gaps where the plating hadn't meshed just right. Those on the walls had been obviously cut and welded together in places, piece-mealing it as they needed. They were different colors, too, all shades of violet but… Different. Darker, lighter, textured a bit as if they'd been alloyed or coated to protect against something.

It was… Salvaged, rather than built normally.

The door - the only door, she realized suddenly, and there were no windows either - opened with a quiet, muted hiss of magnetics turning, the hingeless door gliding as they worked, snapped her out of her thoughts.

The Faunus that stepped into the room was tall, with black hair splashed with red and a thin, hard frown. He was dressed in a thick, leather long-coat zipped up the front, with an icon on the breast she didn't recognize. Shis sleeves were loose, but topped at the shoulders by layered, silver steel plates nicked and scarred by wear and tear. And his pants were thick, but simple, syn-thread black denim with leather patches sewn across them and metal shin-guards. His boots were just as simple, leather combat gear with dull iron steel-toe guards.

But what put the ear in her was his mask - a hexagon, with two elongated sives, curved along his face to hide everything above his lips. And a pair of bright crimson eyes that bored down into her as the door shut and he sighed.

"Good… Well, the time doesn't matter to you, does it, Princess Belladonna?" He asked, kneeling in front of her and cocking his head so that the chromed tips and edges of his horns glinted in the light. "I am the Black Bull and, on behalf of the Cyclopes, welcome to… Well, you don't need to know that either, do you?"

Blake was hardly 'intimidating' in just her training leotard and bound up as she was…

But even so, she glared up at the man with as much fire as she could manage.

"Oh, save the hate, Love." He laughed, leaning back and fishing in a pocket for a moment. He pulled out two things and held them up in each hand - a small knife, and a plastic bag. "I haven't even earned it yet."

She flicked the knife a look, and then him, and felt the terror start pushing its way back in as she tried and failed to push her Aura to the fore.

"Special tech." He explained, snatching her hands up by a little piece of metal in the bindings between her wrists. "A gift from His Gaze. Aura Dampeners. Shame is, they work uniformly. So we're both vulnerable. But… Well, you can't do much, can you?"

"So," he smiled, tapping the knife against one of her thumbs, "which is your favorite? Right, or left? Thumb? Pinky? Only right you get a say, isn't it?"

XxX----XxX----XxX

Kali sat in Leonardo's office, her breakfast tea and biscuits long since cold, hard and inedible. Aside from the wasted food - something she normally despised, but for the moment, couldn't find it in herself to care about it - the table was empty. Freshly cleaned and cleared, in fact. By Kali herself, more as a time waster and a distraction than anything else.

Completely clean and clear…

Aside from a simple metal box, no bigger than her small hands. It was one of those simple mailing boxes, for sending small packages. Usually gifts. Tools, knick-knacks, jewelry - those sorts of things. On top, stenciled in by a cyber-chisel in glowing, neon violet, was a message.

'From Blake, with Love.'

She heard the door open and close gently, but didn't look up as Leo came over and sat beside her. Quietly, after a moment, he said, "Lapis… Couldn't save the finger, I'm afraid. I'm afraid it was-"

"Cauterized?"

"Y-Yes. Plasma burns…" He nodded, voice soft. Mournful. "Gods, Kali, I… I'm sorry."

"You should be.." She growled, turning to glare at the man as he balked. "You were supposed to protect her. You said she was safe here."

"I-I did-"

"You were wrong."

"I know." He sighed, "Toro says one of our cleaning crew, an Alice Crimson, is missing as well. Not dead, like the rest of the staff in that area. Missing. And her file was tagged with a certain cyber-virus that our networkers found, once I had them start digging."

"They should have already found it."

"We… Didn't have a reason to look." He argued, waving her down when she rounded on him again. "A-And besides, the cyber-code was advanced. Technically marvelous, as my security said. We only caught it by bringing in a specialist."

"A specialist?"

"Most of Mistral ron on a version of Menagerie's comm lines, nowadays." Leonardo explained, "It's… Basically a Cybteronian network. If you know what to do, and how, and are very good at picking your targets, they're basically undetectable. Unless you bring in the exact kind of specialist that knows those nooks and crannies."

"I'm aware of the technicalities." She'd planned, proposed, and overseen those expansions herself, after all. "Who did you get? Alabaster? Alexander?"

"Netrunner."

"She helped you?"

"She owed me." Leonardo shrugged, "Long story. Regardless, officially, Alice Crimson doesn't exist outside of Menagerie and Mistral."

"Gods…"

"The code was artful and well-designed." Leonardo explained, "And smart, too. Whenever one launched an inquiry, it would intelligently aggregate and compile files by drawing on other, local files. Composite images, records, the like, all back-dated to whenever you prefer. Whenever you are looking at. Inside Mistral, unless you caught that code, she had lived a perfectly normal twenty odd years."

"And since we don't," can't, "check foreign records…"

"She couldn't be caught." He nodded, "Not without us having reason to direct intensive, specialized, lengthy attention on a simple cleaner. One of ten on her shift in that wing alone, to boot."

"Damn it…" She growled, mind racing. "You still have Netrunnner?"

"I… Can get a hold of her, yes."

"Do it." She said, "I want her, and a few of my own people, to go through our net. Find any other viruses hiding people like this, and update our security to catch it. This never happens again. Understood?"

"I'll… reach out and get a price."

She nodded, and turned her attention to the next question…

Why had this happened at all? What was the goal? And why did it make her stomach turn so much more? Past what had happened to Blake, something was coming.

She could feel it…

XxX----XxX----XxX

"Why?" Summer asked when, that morning, her... Captor? Savior? It was all such a complicated, confusing mess, she wasn't even sure now, after so long. But when he spoke to her, voice echoing through some sort of transmitter the other one had built that could carry through the water, she couldn't help but ask, "Why are you… Talking to me?"

"Humans require socialization." He answered, "Without it, their health has been known to deteriorate."

"Y-Yeah, sure, but…" Gods, talking was hard… "But why are you talking to me?"

"I… Do not follow."

"Why you and not Soundwave?" At least, she thought that was the other one's name. She couldn't really remember just then. "O-Or one of the others. Gazerbeak-"

"Lazerbeak." Shockwave, the world's bloodiest and most wanted 'Bot, corrected her gently. "He is busy, as are the rest of his Minicon kin and their mas- Their comrade, Soundwave. This is why he installed the aquatic soundy adapter, and the microphone in your mask."

"So he wants us to keep each other company?"

"I suppose so, yes."

She couldn't help but laugh, and then groan as pain flared up through her ruined chest.

"Summer Rose?" Shockwave asked, voice laced with a… Kind of worry that didn't make sense to her.

She was… An experiment. Why worry about that?

"I'm fine." She managed to rattle out, "Just… Having a hole in your chest sucks."

"I see." He answered, "I am… Sorry."

"Why?"

"I…" He hesitated for a moment before he answered, "I failed."

"What?"

"I failed." He reiterated, "To protect you. To repair you."

"I…" She shook her head, "I don't get it."

"Get what?"

"Why would a monster like you protect anyone?" She asked, "Let alone me. I figured you hated me, after the way you acted back in the-"

"I suspected that those following us had discovered my drone form." Shockwave cut her off, "My agitation was meant to push you away from me, where I could engage them alone and thus keep you out of harm's way. However, they were not, in the end, there for me. They had come for you, and in my error, I left you vulnerable."

"For that," he finished, "I am sorry."

"Oh…"

"And for the record." He added, quietly, "I…. Am not a mere monster."

"Mantle would disagree." She scoffed.

"That…" The machine fell silent for a long time, then. Long enough that some panic started to creep into her, and she realized how bad insulting the machine keeping her alive could be for a normal Huntress - let alone two thirds of one stuck in a jar.

But, finally, he spoke, "Even I am… Unable to collate and explain my actions."

"You…" She blinked, "Wait, you don't… Understand what you did?"

"I understand what I did." He corrected, "I do not understand why I did iit. Not… In totality."

"Why not?"

"I had won." He answered, "Mistral had been beaten and conquered. Atlas' fleet repelled and, soon, to be destroyed. From there, the Faunus could sue for peace, and I could retire to the Dark Mountains to continue my work. So… So I do not understand why I acted so… So illogically."

"What do you mean?" She asked, "You… Won anyway."

"Yes, but not as I intended to." He countered, "That way was always possible, but such death was… Unnecessary, for any of our ends."

"Our ends?"

"Ghira's, Kali's, Sienna's and mine." He answered, "We wanted a victory, not a holocaust. BUt after Ghira- After he was-"

"Shockwave?" She asked when he was quiet again for a long time.

"It is like a…. Virus. Locking up my neural processors. Grounding my algorithms and foundering them." He rumbled, "It is unpleasant."

"You…" She blinked, "When you say Ghira, you mean… The Chieftain's husband?"

"The Chieftain, at the time." Shockwave answered, "He was…"

"You lost him?"

"Yes."

"Who… Was he, to you?"

"A… Companion." He answered, "He lead Menagerie through the war, with Kali's aid. And, in it, he came to rescue me. I offered my help in return, and he… He gave me a home. Companionship."

"You sound close."

"I… Valued him."

"And you started… 'Locking up' after he died?"

"Yes." He answered, "This subject aggravates. Let us discuss other matters."

"Is it still happening?" She pressed her luck, mind racing. It seemed impossible, but- "Maybe when you think about him?"

"...Yes." He answered after a time, "It continues to cause… Illogical impulses."

"Shockwave…"

"Yes?"

"You're a moron."

"I'm sorry?"

"You're grieving because your friend died, you metal moron." She rasped hotly, disbelievingly. "Your friend died, and you got upset, and you don't know how to process it, so you're… Gods, you're like a child that doesn't understand how to handle their own emotions."

"I… Do not."

"What?"

"I am incapable of emotion." He explained, "And have been for millions of years. As was intended when I was subjected to the Shadowplay and Empurata procedures, on Cybertron."

"I…" She blinked, "I don't know what that means."

"Shadowplay is a technique of punishment wherein those who wish to…. Alter a Cybertronian's mind. Typically, they shatter or fragment the preexisting mental construct - their mind - and reconstitute the pieces with new data to formulate a new processing system." He explained dryly, as if it were all so normal. So boring. "The objective in mine was to render me controllable by removing my emotional inputs."

It was horrifying…

"Empurata is the simpler procedure." He went on, "It is the act of removing a Cybetronian's head and hands, replacing them with faceless monitors as you have seen on my own frame, and replacing their hands with downgraded ones. And, typically, tools, with which the Functionists would often redesignate a 'Bot to a lesser social caste."

"Gods…" She murmured, "I think I'm going to be sick."

"That would be unwise…"

"Obviously." She grunted, "But… I'm so sorry, Shockwave."

"What?" He barked, sounding almost surprised. "Why?"

"That was awful." She answered, "You couldn't have done anything to deserve that. No one could have."

"You are the third on this planet to say that…"

"Who were the first two?"

"Ghira and Sienna Khan."

"Oh?" She blinked, "Not Kali?"

"No." He answered, "She was too busy expressing her desire to, quote, 'force feed the fuckers their own feet'. Highly illogical, as I explained, as Cybertronians do not possess the sorts of stomachs your kind do. She was then busy explaining to me what a metaphor and a simile are."

"Yeah?"

"Indeed." He chuckled, "Quite illogical - I understand both intricately, in far more languages than you could count."

"I'm sure." She murmured, smiling instead of the aches and everything else. "I… Bet you miss them."

"I…" He went quiet, for a moment, and then murmured. "I must return to stasis mode for final repairs. It will be good to walk again."

"Yeah." Summer sighed, "I bet…"

XxX----XxX----XxX

Soundwave stood in the hallway, head cocked to the side as he listened to their conversation end. Finally, he turned, satisfied, and made his way to the storehouse beside the space-bridge room, to make final preparations for Shockwave's repairs. Then he cocked his head, as a report processed through from Mistral to Menagerie which tripped his cyber-code's programmed watchdog filters.

"Rumble." He said, "Investigate."

The machine sent a simple response, "Understood."

And he went on his way.

XxX----XxX----XxX

Vale was beautiful at night, floating high above it as she was. It's streets, avenues, and wide, raised highways all lit up like luminescent arteries. They crawled and weaved throughout the inside of its walls, light flowing through and around its beating, metropolitan heart. Glass and steel lit up the sky between it, duller but more colorful in splashes of neon and white. Loci of light that showed the city's life to anyone with the eye for it. Sometimes, though, that sea of lights was broken up. Stretches of darkness - homes, day-time industries, and parks and wood reserves kept fresh and alive inside the walls should the worst come to pass all smattering across the city at seemingly random intervals.

Darkness, splashed along the light-filled body of it all.

She came down in one of those woodland stretches, thruster boots petering out as she looked around, scanning for onlookers. Satisfied, she skipped her way through the park…

And out onto a boulevard. Then, into a quiet little cafe…

"Penny!" A familiar voice called out as its owner stood, eagerly waving her over.

She smiled, bit down the distaste for what she was doing - and th eforeign, unknown spike of anxiety as well - and returned the wave as she came over. "Ruby! Hello, there! How are you doing this evening?"

"F-fine! Great, now, actually-" She smiled as Penny sat, "I-I, um, I'm glad you, you know, made it."

"I wouldn't miss you for the world, Ruby." She smiled, genuine warmth running through her as she sat. "You know that."

Her target flushed and returned the smile as she sat, and Penny leaned back, listening to her talk about her day. Rattling on a thousand words a minute, as ever. Not that Penny minded listening to her talk. It was best to enjoy it.

At least, while she could…

XxX----XxX----XxX

Dark Souls Fan (Guest) :

The idea is still on my shelf!