Holy shit the mod's writing something that isn't worldbuilding or alternate universe shenannigans. And it's a story that's been hanging fire for two years at that. How the hell did that happen? Still a little rough but ready for viewing by the Collective. Enjoy.
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"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"
Quote:The whole thing began on a calm autumn day in the inner suburbs of Kandor City, at an ordinary neighborhood market store, with a young Japanese woman, a perfectly ordinary store clerk and a six pack of Corona beer. The young woman had picked up the beer and brought it to the counter, and then there were issues. The clerk gave the woman a considering look and opened his mouth to say something, and Sora Hasegawa very carefully didn’t betray any emotion as the clerk said the seven words she hated:Mr. Fnord interdimensional man of mystery
“I’ll need to see some identification, miss.”
She sighed, pulled out a wallet with a dozen different IDs inside that proclaimed her as – among other things:
* A citizen and full captain in the Soviet Air Force
* A nonresident citizen of the Stellvia Corporation
* Allowed to drive anything in New South Wales, up to and including road trains
* A registered giant robot operator
* A Discordian Pope (because why not?)
All of this wealth of identification to prove that one Sora Hasegawa was in fact old enough to buy a six pack of beer.
The clerk gave the cards a quick once-over and nodded. “Okay, just making sure,” he said with a hint of apology in his voice. “We get some real characters in here sometimes, you know?”
“Yeah,” Sora said, pocketing her wallet. “I know. I know.” It wouldn’t do to get angry with the poor kid, it wasn’t his fault and at least he hadn’t given her the evil eye like that one jackass at the Cobalt Club the other week. She grabbed her beer and turned to leave.
“Have a nice day!”
“Sure.”
~***~
Returning to her apartment in Korolevgrad, Sora stored her hard-won beer in the fridge, went into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed with a long, exasperated sound, part hiss, part sigh and part snarl.
“Huh.” A voice said off to her left. “You present the appearance of a woman with a problem.” Sora levered herself just upright enough to take a look. Three tiny purple-haired androids were on top of her dresser. One dangled from a thin cable that came out of the aircon vent, another waved a miniature tricorder at the surrounding wall and the third sat on the dresser’s edge, idly kicking her feet.
Sora understood the who if not the what and the why. “Dee?” she asked, puzzled. “What are you doing here?”
The Dee sitting on the dresser shrugged. “One of Lena’s science-fair projects got out of the greenhouse,” she said. “GLaDOS requested backup, so we’re plant hunting.”
“Do you need help?” Sora said, sitting up. Korolev’s greenhouses had a reputation for unpredictable vegetation. Having something loose on the grounds was a cause for concern. She immediately thought of getting the flamethrower Kohran had given her as a going-away present, but Dee waved her off.
“Nah, we’ve got things under control,” she said. “So?”
“So?”
“So what’s bothering you?”
Sora wasn’t entirely sure how to answer that. “Just frustrated, I guess.”
“Frustrated, huh?” Dee looked thoughtful. “I can’t say that I’m familiar with the problem, but my reading of the internet suggests there’s all sorts of ways to combat that. Some of them involve the most amazing gadgets. For instance, did you know you can take a two-horsepower motor and attach it to–”
“No!” Sora blurted, flustered. “Not that kind of frustrated!”
“Oh, okay,” Dee replied easily. “What kind of frustrated then?”
“It’s... well, it’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time, try me.”
“Well...” Sora faltered, trying to figure out where to begin with years of existential angst and general annoyance. “How old would you think I am, Dee? Be honest.”
Dee cocked her head and gave Sora a measuring stare. “Hmm,” she hmm’d. “I would say, um, somewhere between seventeen and nineteen maybe? Just as a general estimate.”
Sora nodded. “That’s what most people would say,” she said. “I’m twenty-six, Dee. I woke up, the memories I have – gods there just isn’t a good way of expressing this in words – I came online with the memories and mindset of a twenty-year old. I’ve lived six years since then, making me twenty-six. But I don’t look it. Every time I go down to Kandor for anything ‘adult’ I get carded. Every single time.”
“As I understand it, some people might consider that a compliment,” Dee noted.
“They don’t have to live with it!” Sora snapped. “They don’t have to deal with the condescension, the ‘oh aren’t you a little young for that’ comments, the weird looks I get if I try to get a drink downtown, or the weirder looks if I try and go on a date! I’m tired of it, Dee! I look seventeen, I’ll always look seventeen and barely anybody outside of my family or the Force takes me seriously because of it.” Her frustration and annoyance poured out, Sora flopped back onto the bed with an explosive sigh.
“Hm,” Dee hmm’d. “That is a problem. But!” she said happily, finger raised in the traditional I-have-an-idea pose, “Every problem has a solution! We need to get you older is all.”
Sora blinked. “But I don’t age,” she said, confused.
“You don’t age normally,” Dee rejoined. “But that’s even better, because that means we have total control over the process.” She jumped to her feet and assumed Heroic Shounen Pose #1. “Remember, I am Fenspace’s number one super expert on AI and android interfaces, and Fenspace’s number one super expert on lifelike android designs owe me a favor,” she added, “so we can get him in on it too.”
Sora considered this. Stewing in self-pity had a certain appeal (“And you’re sure you’re not a teenager?” a small part of her mind said archly.) but the chance of doing something proactive about the situation appealed.
“Positive contact!” The Dee with the tricorder yelled. “Fifteen meters!”
“Whoop,” Dee who had been talking to Sora said. “Looks like we’ve got to go. Listen,” she told Sora. “Think it over, once GLaDOS and I get the green beastie back in its cage, I’ll send fullsize-me over and we head down to Eljay’s place, see what he thinks. I’ve got some ideas already, maybe bounce them off him... we’re all bright people, we’ll figure something out.”
A little whisper of instinct spoke up in the back of Sora’s mind. The last time she listened to that instinct she’d jumped from Stellvia and landed in the Soviet Air Force, and she hadn’t regretted a second of it. For all her skills as an engineer and rational outlook on life, Sora trusted her instincts. “All right,” she said. “See you then.”
“That’s the spirit!” Dee smiled, then vanished back up into the ductwork.
~***~
Several hours and a battle with a mutated ficus plant from the depths of Hell later, Sora and Dee walked through the front door of Vulpine Fury’s Puppetworks in downtown Kandor. Immediately upon entering the shop a green-haired missile shot out and tackleglomped Dee. “Auntie Dee!” the girl squealed.
Dee gave the girl an extra squeeze and a pat on the head. “Hiya Lime,” she said. “Is your dad handy?”
“He’s in the back,” Lime Zor-El said, then turned around and yelled at the back room. “DADDY! AUNTIE DEE’S HERE!”
“(Auntie Dee?)” Sora asked sotto voce.
“(Long story.)”
“(You’ll have to tell me sometime.)”
From the back emerged a largish man in work clothes. Eljay Goddard ran a hand through his thinning hair and smiled. “Well howdy, Dee,” he said. “Here for that test rig I owe you?”
“Nah,” Dee said, “got a new project this week.” She pointed at Sora, who suddenly felt about two feet tall. “She’s the project.”
“Oh?” Eljay said, nonplussed, focusing on Sora. “Oh! Miss Hasegawa, a pleasure. What can I do for you?”
“Let’s take this back to the workshop,” Dee suggested. The foursome retreated from the storefront to the back room, a spacious room filled with workbenches and bits of incomplete puppets casually strewn about.
Eljay lowered himself into a comfortable swivel chair. “Allright, what’s the game this time, Dee?” he asked.
Before Dee could say something Sora beat her to the punch. “I’m looking for something,” she said. “I want to look my age.”
“I see,” Eljay replied. “And how old is that?”
“Twenty-six,” Sora said. “At least that’s what I feel like I’ve lived. If we went for publication dates I’d be... um, somewhere in my thirties? But twenty-six works for me.”
Eljay stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Hm. Yes. I think I can help, aging protocols have been a side project of mine as of late.”
“For Lime?” Sora asked. Eljay nodded.
“Yeah, I want to give her the option of growing up physically as she matures,” he said. “So are you thinking of a cosmetic overhaul, or a completely new body?”
That question threw Sora for a bit of a loop. “You know, I don’t know,” she said. “I kind of like this body, and there’s some after-market additions I don’t want to lose.”
“Mental or physical?” Dee interjected. Sora gave her a questioning look. “Are the modcons all in the brain or elsewhere?”
“In the brain,” Sora said. “I’m pretty sure, anyway. I didn’t exactly get a full operating manual or anything.” She paused, thinking it over. “How completely new of a new body would you be talking about?” she asked. “I kind of like the idea, but at the same time it’s... kind of disrespectful to Mom if I ditch everything, you know?”
Dee and Eljay exchanged looks. “The more of the original body we keep the trickier it gets,” she noted. “Different wave strains don’t always play well together.”
“I’ve still got a supply of AC’s original strain,” Eljay said.
“Hm, yeah, but that was Karen’s stock, right? I think it’ll have mutated a bit already.” Dee looked thoughtful. “I’ve got something I’ve been meaning to do a full test run on that might work for a fifty-fifty rebuild.”
“New toy?” Eljay asked.
“Sort of an old one for an unrelated project that needs some field testing. I’ll need to pull some crap down from the Mesa to make it work. You got free space for oh, six cubic meters?”
“I think I can make the room.”
“Coolness. I’ll get it on a shuttle and have it here tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”
“Er,” Sora said, “what are you talking about?” Dee grinned a completely unreassuring grin.
“Something I’ve been noodling with since the Kobolians started whining about our AI recruitment rate,” she said airily. “It’ll be fun, promise.”
“So!” Eljay said, pulling a scientific calculator with arcane dongles hanging off it from a nearby workbench. “While Dee gets her mad science ready, let me ask you a few questions. How comfortable are you with being an android? I mean, is there anything that’s squicked you about repairs or anything?”
“I’m okay with it,” Sora replied as Eljay waved his calculator around her. “It was a bit of a trial by fire though.”
“Oooh, gossip!” Dee said brightly. “Whahappa?”
Sora shook her head. “I don’t want to get too into it, but let’s say that Kohran forgets where she puts things sometimes and, well...”
Dee nodded wisely. “Yeah, I hear you. I lose more Troyers that way.”
Eljay ignored the byplay and concentrated on his readings. “Okay,” he said, “in that case I’ll set up a standard workbench. For what it’s worth I’m sparing you the table I use when Dee wants something. It’s a bit disconcerting for AIs that aren’t multiplexed.” He smiled wryly. “Or I could accidentally use some components from the Sigel project and give you a rocket punch.”
“Though if you want a rocket punch you should totally go for it,” Dee added. “I’ve seen the sims and it looks awesome.”
“Yeeah, I think I’ll pass.”
~***~
Two days later Dee and Sora returned to the Puppetworks. After the customary tackle-hug from Lime, Sora proceeded to a small dressing room near the workshop and changed out of her street clothes and into a hospital gown. Properly dressed, she entered the workshop and boggled at the sight. To one side the workbenches and assorted junk had been shoved aside to accommodate a large boxlike object, all stainless steel, rounded corners and vaguely medical in appearance. To one side of the mystery box a cleaned-off workbench was ready and waiting.
Eljay looked up from the set of tools he was organizing on a station next to the bench. “Hey guys,” he said. “The mystery package arrived yesterday morning and I set it up like you said,” he told Dee. “Everything seems to be working correctly, though I wish you’d told me what it does.”
Dee shrugged. “State secrets and all that,” she replied easily. “I’ll fill you in s’more when we get started but right now it’s probably better that you don’t know.”
“Ah, you and your secrets,” Eljay snorted. “Fine, be that way, I’ll just have to figure it out the hard way. So, Sora,” he said, turning to face her. “You ready for this?”
No turning back now. “Yeah,” she said. “Let’s do this before I lose my nerve.”
“Allright then, if you’d hop up on the table. Now, I’ve got a private KoFen server running if you’d like to play around with that while we work?”
“No thanks,” Sora replied, “I think I’d rather just go offline until you’re done. Resist temptation, you know?”
Eljay smiled. “Fair enough,” he said. “We’ll be a while, so don’t worry if your clock’s off a little. The procedure ought to take, what, five hours?” He glanced at Dee.
“Probably closer to six or seven,” Dee replied. “Depends on how cranky the systems integration is.”
“So yeah, that long. Ready?”
Sora took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m ready.”
“Okay then, nighty night.” Eljay fiddled with the data port hidden behind her right ear, and the world went blue, then black.
~***~
Sora Hasegawa woke up completely naked on a padded workbench. It was a little embarrassing but in the end when you’re trusting two people to rebuild you from the bones outward seeing you in your altogether was a secondary concern. She sat up slowly, running a minor diagnostic on her internal systems. Unfamiliar data scrolled through her mind; the new systems were still aligning themselves with her cyberbrain.
Sora blinked. She felt cold. Okay, naked, in a large room designed for ventilation not comfortable heating, so cold wasn’t surprising, and she’d felt cold before. But now the feeling was sharper, more intense than anything she felt before, which was disconcerting. It must be the new design work Dee came up with, but how in the hell was that supposed to work?
“Hey, you’re awake already!” Dee strolled into the workshop. “How do you feel?”
“I feel... good?” Sora ventured. “A little chilly, quite a lot chilly actually, but good otherwise.”
“Good, good,” Dee said absently. “Now, first things first.” Dee produced a hand mirror and handed it to Sora. “What do you think?”
Sora regarded the face in the mirror.
It was still the same old face she remembered, thoughtful, large light brown eyes which looked a little unfocused without her glasses, not a face that anybody would ever consider beautiful in the classic sense but still attractive enough for her. To her mild surprise her hair color had lightened a little from dark brown to chestnut, and it was longer than the straight bob she had when she’d walked into the Puppetworks that morning. Where her hair had lightened the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose had darkened a little, accentuating her cheekbones and reducing the youthful roundness of her face. Faint laugh lines around her mouth and eyes subtly made her look less the naive teenager and more adult than Sora had ever looked.
“I look, I,” she said smiling, tears welling up in her eyes. “It's perfect. This is exactly what I wanted. Thank you so much.”
Dee nodded. “One last test then.” So saying she took out a pin and jabbed Sora’s left arm. She yelped, grabbing the offended limb and glared at Dee.
“What the hell was that for?!” she demanded. Dee looked curious and unrepentant.
“How did that feel?” she asked. Sora stared, confused.
“It hurt!”
“Yeah yeah, but how much did it hurt?” Dee persisted.
“It hurt a lot! It hurt...” Sora trailed off, taking her hand off the pinprick and seeing a tiny drop of darkish red there. “It hurt a lot more than I remember ever hurting. And that’s... that’s blood. What the hell did you do?”
Dee pumped her fist in victory. “Yesss!” she cried. “The nerves integrated exactly the way they were supposed to. Sensitivity’s a little high but you’ll be able to dial that down once we get the firmware updates loaded.”
“Dee, what did you do?”
Dee looked up. “It’s my old-new project,” she said. “I call it a neo-cylon. All my mad science gear was designed to build a custom cyborg body that was at least forty percent biological. You’re about... fifty percent, I think. We kept the endoskeleton and a bunch of cybernetics from AC’s design – honestly they’re better than anything me or Eljay had on the shelf – everything else is 100% Black Mesa vat-grown.”
Sora stared at Dee. “I had no idea the technology was there for something like that,” she said. Dee laughed nervously.
“Yeah, well, technically all of this is ultraviolet-level secret, so keep it under your hat, yeah?” Dee said. Sora gave her a disbelieving look. “Oh come on, I like you and wanted to do you a favor. I think a cutting-edge cyborg body is a pretty good favor, don’t you?”
Before Sora could respond Lime bustled in with Sora’s clothes under her arm. “Auntie Dee, I got Miss Sora’s clothes for you!” she announced, dropping the load off.
“Now I’m pretty sure we got everything to match your old measurements,” Dee said.
“If you didn’t I’m telling Mal to take my new wardrobe out of your operating budget,” Sora said half-seriously, then examined her clothing. Her underwear slid on easily enough – the bra felt a little snug against her chest but it wasn’t uncomfortable – and she took the moment to give her body a closer examination.
So this was fifty-percent biological, she noted absently, poking at the flesh. Aside from the increase in sensitivity it didn’t feel too much different from her old body. Another prod of her stomach felt oddly dense, as if... “Am I cut?” she said out loud.
Dee nodded. “Yeah, we ended up using some of Eljay’s stock of the Zor-El wave during the integration process and we think it reacted with the mad science stuff and the Peters strain in your body. We did a quick test while you were still out and it might’ve enhanced your strength. Not to superhuman levels,” she added hastily as Sora’s eyes widened. “More like on the upper-middle bounds of human strength. Bruce Lee, not She-Hulk.”
“Huh,” Sora said. “I guess this is an excuse to work out more.”
Lime giggled. “Maybe Miss Sora can start working as a vampire slayer at night!”
“I, um,” Sora tried to think of a diplomatic reply. “I don’t think the local goths would like that much, Lime-chan.”
“Oh I don’t know,” Dee said thoughtfully. “Most of them do have it coming.”
“Dee!”
“Everybody decent?” Eljay called from the workshop door. Sora waved him in, and he stepped through carrying a bundle of clothing. “Brought you a few things just in case your old clothes didn’t fit anymore.”
“I’m good, thanks. It seems my measurements haven’t changed much, which is nice since I don’t know if I’d ever be able to find any of those t-shirts again.” Sora adjusted her shirt a little, and gave Eljay a considering look. “You do tailoring sometimes, right?”
Eljay blinked. “A little, yeah, for the Nani Naze puppets and some of the other stuff. Have something in mind?”
Sora smiled mysteriously. “Oh yes. Let me get my phone and I’ll get the patterns for you…”
~***~
Malaclypse Fnord sat at his desk working on the afternoon paperwork. While the paperwork kept some of his attention, the rest kept wandering downtown. Particularly to the Vulpine Fury Puppetworks, where his girlfriend had vanished on an unknown errand in the company of the faction’s superhuman AI. Such things were fraught with worry when Dee was involved, but Mal figured Sora was an adult and could take care of herself.
There was a knock on the door. “C’mon in,” Mal said without looking up.
“Hey,” Sora said softly.
“Hey yourself,” he replied. “So how’d your appointment at Vulpine’s go?”
“See for yourself,” she said, clearly amused. Mal looked up and blinked hard. A clearly older-looking Sora stood in the doorway, dressed in a version of the Soviet dress uniform that had been very carefully tailored to emphasize her streamlined construction. The white shirt and tie contrasted nicely with the black jacket with the red rank bars on her shoulders and complimented the black trousers that were just a little tighter than regulation might’ve allowed. The ensemble was topped off with a black ushanka perched jauntily on Sora’s head. Her old hairstyle had been replaced with a loose ponytail and Sora’s old large wireframe spectacles had been replaced with slim black-rimmed glasses. She smiled widely at Mal’s gobsmacked expression and twirled in place. “What do you think?”
“I, um, ahem, wow.” Mal cleared his throat. “You look great, skygirl.”
“I thought the hat might’ve been going overboard.”
“Oh no, no no no. In fact I’m thinking we ought to use that outfit for the recruiting posters.” Sora raised a skeptical eyebrow. Mal matched her eyebrow for eyebrow, and both of them collapsed into snickering. Mal got up from his desk and hugged Sora. “Seriously, Sora,” he said. “You look like someone who shouldn’t be messed with. It’s a very good look for you.”
“You should thank Dee and Eljay, it was all their idea.” She leaned in closer. “I’ve got some new systems that could use some… calibration,” she murmured into his ear. “Interested in helping out?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mal said thoughtfully. “I’m a very busy man and it sounds like you need a lot of testing.”
“I’m sure we could work something out,” Sora replied. “Say, go down to the Cobalt for some stress testing, and then see how much more needs calibrating?”
“You talked me into it,” Mal kissed her. “Give me a minute to finish up and throw on something decent, kay?”
Sora kissed him back. “Don’t keep a girl waiting, comrade,” she said, walking out the door.
FenWiki - Your One-Stop Shop for Fenspace Information
"I. Drink. Your. NERDRAGE!"
