Chang Heavy Industries
presents
NON-PROFIT VENTURE
KER-THUNK. Wham!
KER-THUNK. Wham!
KER-THUNK. Wham!
Reika, who had stiffened almost imperceptibly at the first ratcheting boom that echoed through the Chang Heavy Industries complex, sighed to herself and set down her stylus. She rubbed gingerly at her temples. She'd lost count, over the past hour, of how many times that noise had intruded on her work -- many, she knew -- but three in close succession like that could not possibly be good.
KER-THUNK. Wham!
"Vision," she said quietly, but with great intensity.
"Online," the unflappable contralto of the base computer replied. No true A.I., at least not yet -- and possibly not ever, given her sister's preferences about what she termed 'enslaved minds' -- the computer nevertheless had a soothing voice, designed and built for the express purpose of communicating clearly, efficiently, and calmly.
KER-THUNK. Wham!
Reika found herself suddenly grateful for that feature.
"How many so far?"
"Twenty-seven," Vision replied instantly. "I am tracking an intermittent undervolt in coil line three," she added. "Current projections indicate magnapult failure in approximately thirty-seven minutes. A repair is scheduled for immediate dispatch once Miss Chang returns her armor to storage. The magnapult drive coils were not designed with this level of constant use in mind."
KER-THUNK. Wham!
"Expense?" Reika asked, closing her eyes and rubbing more vigorously.
"I am unable to calculate a total estimate," Vision said, and would have sounded uncomfortable, Reika thought, if she were able. "Usage is approximately three hundred seventy six percent over worst-case projections. At this rate I will need to contract delivery of new units from outside sources, repurpose all fabrication units to drone construction, or issue a recall order to Miss Chang, within one hour."
"The first two are unnacceptable," Reika noted mildly.
"Yes, ma'am," Vision replied, and fell silent.
For a short time the quiet held, and Reika found herself able to resume her work, with only the occassional booming eruption from the launch chamber. Perhaps her sister had --
KER-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK WHAM WHAM WHAM!
KER-THUNK. Wham!
KER-THUNK. Wham!
Reika snapped her stylus in two as she flinched. "Vision!" she snapped.
"Online."
"Telemetry for Irene, my display. Now."
"Working," Vision replied, and Reika's holoscreen blipped before resolving into a helmetcam view of a battlefield, with callouts indicating armor performance and user status. Irene was breathing heavily, but other than that showed no signs of distress. Sparking, smoking wreckage littered the ground before her as she brought up her pulse rifle to aim at her targets.
A moment later the airborne delivery canisters arrived and settled to the ground, phasing back into local reality with the characteristic crackle of one-shot teleporter technology burning itself out to shift the bulky containers through the solid objects in their path so they'd land at Irene's feet. Battle drones unfolded themselves and stood upright, their optics glowing -- then charged as one towards a group of Malta security forces.
When the smoke cleared, Irene was scorched but essentially unhurt, and five new drones -- including two of the more expensive Protector models, some part of Reika's brain noted dispassionately -- were arcing through the air towards their drop point.
Reika couldn't help it; she whimpered. "Irene is going to ruin us," she muttered.
Still, she couldn't help but smile as she watched her sister finally take an active hand in the hero business. It wasn't profitable, not by a long shot so long as Irene kept burning through drones so quickly... but on the other hand, what was profit? Reika could all but see the smile on Irene's face as her sister fought her demons.
Reika didn't often feel guilt, but when she did, it was usually centered around how she'd manipulated her sister. First, into Crey's employ. Then, into the sorority of the Sabres of Paragon City. Irene was a trusted ally of those groups, in both her civilian and her hero guise, and even on her most generous days Reika had to admit that Irene had done very little of that on her own. Reika had been there every step of the way, guiding, steering... using.
And Irene, Reika knew, felt her own share of guilt about the entire mess. In some ways, Irene was responsible -- she worked on the processes that Crey used to craft these artificial people in the first place. She of all people knew what their intended roles were, what Crey planned to do with them... and with her sentimentality, Reika knew, Irene thought of each of them as not a tool, but a person.
A person who she had helped enslave.
By donning the armor and going out there, putting herself on the line, Irene was doing her best to strike back at the only injustices she safely could any more. That was worth more than any robot drone.
"We are down to ten units remaining," Vision observed as another vibrant slam echoed through the base. "Shall I issue a recall order?"
Ten out of the hundred they'd started with. Ten. Okay, it may have been worth more than any one, or even dozen, robot drones, but this was ridiculous. Sister or not, Reika had a business to run.
"Yes," she replied. "And retrieve as many of the remnants as you can. My sister is on repair duty this month."
--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
. Although I imagine it could be possible that he could sign off on some of the legendary supplies to help compensate for what was used while doing work with him.