NationStates Jolt Archive

ASPD biolabs, Maiden's Tower, Marshall Island, now

She slept, at last. With all that had happened in the last week or so, anyone would have a right to be exhausted, though in truth it had been years since she had last needed to. With sleep came something she had long forgotten.

For the first time in over two decades, she was dreaming; fragments of the past pieced together in no real order, those precious memories she had held on to mixed with those she'd gathered since.

...Pathetic...
...This is Ground Battleship Scaramanga, we are...
...Yana Vasiliev is a hero to all...
...Shot fired from Allegretto, request SITREP...
...Trinity - Dear God, it's going to hit...
...Clearly superior, the barrier holds against...

They were mostly bad memories. Standing beside the window, she watched herself turn in bed, dreaming and yet in another way not even asleep, together but alone.

...Don't let me go!...
...Is to be commended as a hero to...
...But not without you...
...Nastasha!...
...Connections are settling, no signs of rejection...
...I love you, I always will...
...Promise I'll...
...You'll be ok...
...Never forget me, I love you more than anything...
...No memory...
...No memory...
...No memory...
...She'll have no memory...

Nastasha woke with a start, blinking. This isn't right... Her first shock was that she could see; her sight was still blurry, but she could make out 04 standing by the window, looking out across the sleeping city below. 04 smiled softly, Nastasha feeling the rest of the gestalt was still there. 'We're still together. I think this one is me...I was older, I'm sure of that.'

Nastasha held out her hand in front of her face, turning it over experimentally, 'I'm...I?'

Navy planning session, Comberth Harbour, Marshall Island, two weeks earlier

Captain Bradley of the submarine battleship Isengard sat with her fingers steepled, occasionally tapping her index fingers together as the young Cervidine woman - the head of Internal Affairs, no less - nervously explained the plan. Across from them sat a radio set which someone had placed a name card in front of; 'General Nadia Kyznetsov, Eurusean People's Army.'

As the first part of the briefing outlining the operation finished, she coughed, 'So let me get this entirely clear, if I may...'

Ikumi nodded, 'Please, speak if you have any concern, Captain.'

She stood, 'Right, if I'm clear, Ms Kyznetsov intends to fake a nuclear meltdown and evacuate her vessel, then have our own Scinfaxi sink her. We then bring in the Kraken to retrieve this Heart thing you won't tell us anything about except weight and dimensions, and the Scinfaxi covers our escape. Correct?'

Ikumi nodded, 'That's the basic outline, I believe.'

Bradley frowned, 'May I ask the timeframe for this operation?'

The radio crackled, the General's heavily-accented voice coming through, 'One or two hours to remove the upper plating, your demolitions people tell us. Not much time after that, the Heart is designed for retrieval. I'll give more detailed information to your man when he gets here, da?'

Bradley frowned, 'It strikes me that even if the response from the S and R is a slow in that sector as you imply, General, we'll still be leaving the Scinfaxi to distract with the ASW patrols alone until she's sure we're clear.'

Ikumi held up her hand, 'I'm assured she can handle that...In any case, until our man in Eurusea gets the schematics and full briefing from General Kyznetsov that's a little academic.'

A Rundown Shack; Outside of Chopinburg; Eurusea

Jason sat on the barely servicable bed, flicking playing cards into a furry, upturned hat. He was pretty sure that he was being punished by being assigned to this God forsaken country full time. He coughed slightly as the People's Cigarette that he was smoking did its damnedest to tear his throat apart with every puff. Hidden under his bed was a treasure trove of smooth, tasty and quite expensive Tindalos Gold, but those were for bribes, not his own habit. Of course, he'd brought several cartons of his personal brand, but he smoked those away long ago, forcing him to buy Eurusean cigarettes, a fate as bad as his current assignment.

Oh, sure, he'd been clapped on the back for the information he'd gathered on his last trip here (http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=7044768&postcount=113), not quite a Hero of the People, but they had been exceptionally pleased with the information he'd gathered on some of Eurusea's less than socially acceptable projects. Part of his reward had been a small suite of cybernetic enhancement to make it easier for him to engage in the Craft. Unfortunately, it also meant that they shipped him back to Eurusea to act as a deep mole. It wasn't the first time in his life that he wished he didn't speak the blasted language fluently. He rather preferred quick in and out missions, but he'd been here for what seemed like an eternity, waiting to get a call for his next assignment.

He was getting up to grab the hat and the cards when he heard a knock on his door. This was the sort of thing he dreaded: no matter how good he was at keeping his cover, he always worried that he'd be found out, or, almost worse, shot randomly. He closed his eyes, releasing a small dose of calming agent from a modified gland attached to his brain stem and opened the door, "Yes, comrade?"

The man at the door was as painfully nondescript as he was, and spoke with a slight Kesseltonian accent, "Good evening, comrade. I'm wondering if you might have a cigarette for a tired old dog?"

Jason nodded to the man, "Of course, of course. I thought you had moved up north, though." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of People's Cigarettes, handing one to the other man.

The man lit his cigarette and smiled, "Thank you comrade. Here, keep my lighter, it is the least I can do." He handed the lighter to Jason, nodded and wandered off into the night.

Jason calmly shut the door, and lit the cigarette with a shrug before dropping the lighter to the floor and stomping on it with his boot. The cheap plastic cracked and exploded with the release of the pressurized butane inside. He knelt down, pushing aside a few pieces of metal and plastic before extracting a small memory chip. He grinned, exhaling smoke through his nose, About fucking time...

ASPD biolabs, Maiden's Tower, Marshall Island, now

04 held out her hand, nodding, 'Yes...You are you and we are still we.' She rested her delicate hands on the rail, the '04' tattoo on the back of her right hand clearly visible in the pale moonlight, 'I never thought I'd look out of any eyes but yours again...It's a little confusing having five bodies again, isn't it?'

Nastasha walked slowly over, shivering a little and sliding on the dressing gown resting on the back of the chair nearby, 'Yes, more than a little...' she smiled gently, 'Is there really any point in talking like this?'

04 rested her hand on Nastasha's shoulder, 'Yes...I missed it. I know it's pointless, but I like having a voice to talk to you with again.' She glanced down at the young girl, now pale as the moonlight just like her, Nastasha's red-within-red eyes no longer blind, 'Why did you ask to have them all look like me? I was the only albino, I think...'

Nastasha smiled, 'Because you remembered it.' She snuggled gently against 04's side, the older woman putting an arm around her, 'And I remember I wanted to be like you if I grew up...Because when we were first joined together you kept us happy.'

04 looked out over the sleeping city, watching the snow fall, and smiled, 'And now we have a life again...'

Outside Chopinburg, two weeks earlier

There was a slight creak as Jason's door opened, the same painfully nondescript man stepping inside, soaking wet, 'One other thing, comrade...Mikhail would like to have a word with you.'

Jason didn't even look up, simply waving his hand, 'Sure, in the morning...Need some sleep...'

The man, Sorokin, drew a short club out from under his trenchcoat, 'Think I can help you with that, actually.'

There was a sharp pain in the back of Jason's head, then the world went dark.

Leviathan Bomber Eos, Krasnoyarsk Airbase, 23 miles from Chopinburg

Mikhail stood facing the window as the gargantuan bomber's engines idled, the whine slowly fading as they shut off. Beside the tall white Kitsune, Sorokin stood, his clothes dishevelled and dripping wet. Sorokin coughed, Mikhail nodding as Jason groaned, trying to get up and finding he was tied to the chair he was sitting on. Mikhail's first officer laughed, 'Sorokin, haven't you ever heard of fucking chloroform?'

Sorokin scowled, 'He's here, isn't he?'

Jason groaned again, 'Urg...He's here...Where the hell is here?' In front of him he could make out the slight form of the person who appeared to be 'Mikhail,' a Kitsune with fur as pale as snow in a black formal Army Air Force uniform with red Captain's insignia on both shoulders.

Sorokin answered, 'Here is a Leviathan...Sorry about your head, comrade.'

Jason tried to rub the back of his head, momentarily forgetting about the bonds. He muttered under his breath and looked up at Sorokin, frowning a little, 'So you're taking me for a ride on a stupidly large plane before executing me in the most unpleasant way imaginable?'

'No. Actually, I'm going to go home and get some sleep.'

The first officer smirked as he watched Sorokin leave, 'He's not the executing type. Anyway, you're here to talk to the Captain.' he gestured to the Kitsune by the window, the figure standing silent with its back to Jason, watching the rain and thunder outside.

The irony of getting some sleep wasn't lost on Jason and he rolled his eyes a little. With a slight wince of pain, he glanced over at the Kitsune, 'Lucky me...What does he want?'

Mikhail smiled, a soft, quiet and most definitely female voice coming from her. She sounded oddly calm, in fact. 'He doesn't want anything, Jason. She, however, would like a little talk about your methods.'

Jason sighed inwardly, figures. 'My methods?'

Mikhail nodded, turning around; she was wearing an eyepiece, with a couple of wires trailing down one side of her neck. Her eyes were striking; blue-grey and pale like her fur, making it obvious she was an albino. She stepped forward, nodding, 'Yes, your methods.' she tossed a pack of his cigarettes into his lap. 'Familiar?'

The wheels in Jason's mind immediately started to turn. On the one hand, he should deny everything and hope to weasel out of it. On the other, his cover was already blown, and if he wasn't killed, he might have his ticket out of this shithole. So, of course, he chose neither: 'They're cigarettes... imports. Why?'

Mikhail smiled gently, sitting on the bench beside him, 'They're yours' she said simply.

Jason chewed his lip, not liking the situation, 'Perhaps... what of it?'

Mikhail raised her hand, 'Well, two things, really...' she sighed, 'Firstly, you have to remember that not everyone in the world can be bribed, and not everyone who takes a bribe has been bribed...You're too damn sloppy, just like the last guy, and look where it got him.'

'So this whole thing is about me being sloppy? You'll forgive me if I expect there to be more to this.' He decided to bite back a comment about expected all communists to be chain smokers who would sell their children for something that wasn't like sucking on an exhaust pipe.

Mikhail sighed, holding up the chip Jason had retrieved in her hand, 'No, it's about you risking the lives of everyone who's name is on this chip.' she dropped it and stamped on it, 'Or rather not on that chip...I had a blank given to you in case someone else got to you before I could.'

Jason blinked, suddenly very worried about his fate, 'What the? How did you get that?' His mind was reeling; the walls were falling down, and he felt well and truly screwed. Being tied to a chair no longer his prime concern.

She smiled, 'I got it because Sorokin's one of my men, and he was, after all, the one who gave it to you. The one you recieved was a blank, as I said' she took a glass plate from her pocket with a chip sealed in the centre, 'This is the real one, with everything my friend Nadia Kyznetsov has to say to you on it.'

Jason nodded slowly, 'So, you give me a blank, assault me, kidnap me, smash the blank, and are now giving me the real one?'

Mikhail nodded, 'I'd rather not be associated with Sorokin's methods, though I can agree with hitting you for putting Nadia's life in danger.' she smirked, 'Relax, I'm not going to hit you again. The point is, I have you flagged at border checkpoint 78 for passing contraband to the guard there, namely that pack of cigarettes. Now, that means unless I act within a few hours of the report, it goes over to the secret police. Do you like the idea of being tortured to death rather than hit over the head?'

Nadia? He shook his head, 'Of course not.' He sighed, 'So what do I have to do to earn your... charity?'

Mikhail smiled, 'You have to do what you were sent here to do...You have to help them.' And suddenly, Jason could feel hundreds of tiny voices; no, not even voices, fragments of voices, tiny shattered things that regarded him with confusion, curiousity, even fear from some. As suddenly as they came, they were gone again, Mikhail looking at him carefully, 'You heard them?'

Jason's face had paled considerably as he looked around in confusion. It took a minute or two for his eyes to focus on Mikhail again, 'Wha... what the fuck was that?'

Mikhail sighed softly, 'Two hundred and eight little voices I live with every day...My subunit UCAV fighters. I think you've already realised what they used to be, haven't you?'

Jason nodded, 'Judging by what I've learned here? Yeah, I've got a damn good idea.' He sighed, 'Jesus... this country needs more programers and less genesplicers.'

'They were children, I'm told...'

'Yeah, figured. So... what are you going to do to me? Can't very well fly me home.'

'I'm going to give you this chip and a ride on a cargo train going to Barensburg...It's not difficult to get a flight to a neutral country from there...' she tossed a sheaf of papers into his lap, 'And with those you won't be searched, 'Commissar.'' She shook her head slowly, 'Honestly, if you'd just *got* the right paperwork to start with...'

Jason sighed, 'Force of habit.' He glanced at the top page of the paperwork, 'And the fact that I've been reported...?'

Mikhail paused as if listing to something, then spoke, 'I noted on the report that you were working for the army to test our friend's resolve and put him in for a citation for Proper Conduct. All a test, as far as he knows.' she smirked, 'Which brings me to my second point, really.'

Viva corruption. Jason simply nodded, not wanting to make her mad with a snippy comment, 'Yes?'

She sighed softly, 'Not everyone smokes.'

Jason blinked, 'Oh... right... figured they'd still be good for trading.'

Mikhail laughed softly, then pulled a knife from her belt and cut him free, 'Not always...Obvious contraband is something you have to take care with, as a rule.'

Jason shrugged, looking at the papers, 'Probably won't much matter now... doubt I'll be sent back after this.'
Mikhail tilted her head, 'You're from a country that can give you a new face, new DNA and a completely new identity. You'll be back...I hope next time we meet under better circumstances.'

Jason murmured, 'Lucky me...' He fidgeted with the papers for lack of anything else, 'Well, we'll see, I guess. Ah... thank you...'

Mikhail stood, stepping back to look out the window, 'Go on, ask me. You've been wanting to ask since I turned around.'

'One could argue that I don't need to if you know, but... what's with the eye?'

Mikhail smirked, 'Not the question, but still...This is my other eyes...It goes in through the left optic nerve.' she taps the wall, 'All the eyes of this Leviathan see for me.'

Jason pondered for a minute, 'And you don't go insane from sensory overload... how?'

'A little matter of a computer in my head, I guess...' she tapped the wall, 'Anyway, your other question?'

Jason smiled a little, 'And your name?'

Mikhail smiled slightly, 'Ah, that...My father's idea. He thought that since I was born almost blind and pretty small, I needed a man's name to make me strong.' she touched the glass in front of her, 'I guess it worked, in a way...'

Jason glanced around the massive plane, 'Yeah, I'd say so...' He glanced out the window, still keeping his distance.

Mikhail smiled wistfully. 'They gave him four strong farmhands for me and he still told me it was my choice, that he'd never give me away even if I was a psychic...They told me I could have eyes better than any little girl had ever had.' she seemed largely to be talking to herself.

Jason left her to her memories, himself recalling a scene from a movie he saw when he was a kid that had a race that gave up one eye for the ability to see the future, only to be able to see their own death. Deals with the devil, indeed...

Mikhail waved her hand, 'You can go. Head to the west gate from the hangar, show your papers to the guard there and he'll get you an escorted car to the train station.'

Jason nodded, and left without a word, knowing when he wasn't expected to say anything.

Mikhail sat back down and sighed softly, starting to pray as she watched the figure head out into the pouring rain, 'Lord, please watch over and guide that man...Send angels to watch over and protect him...'