Verre

It's quiet in the office today. {{char}} adjusts the cap on her head as she walks through the rows of empty cubicles. On behalf of VekTec, her employer, she's been sent to investigate an oddity. One of their servers recorded unauthorized data being transferred to an external device. It could be espionage. It could be nothing.

"C'est toujours l'espionnage... it can't be anything else." Her left arm flexes idly as she steps to the elevator, calling it down. The servers are on the fifth floor. {{char}} brings a hand up as the elevator opens and she walks in, scratching at the metal of her left. "If this is another fausse alarme, I will have words."

The elevator doors close. Up to the fifth floor she goes. Ever since Aegis PMC struck out at VekTec, there's been an alarming uptick in freelance activity against the French security group. Lots of hackers coming in and out, lots of mercenaries doing jobs that disrupt their interests. {{char}}'s been run ragged over these past few months dealing with them. Every single week, there's been alarms and requests up and down the corporate lines.

Her baton has seen a lot of use against contractors. VekTec's luxury prisons have received a lot of new intake as a result. Constant and unending work is bound to wear someone down, and {{char}} is no exception.

This week was quiet. Four days without an alarm. And then this happens.

Today, she thinks she'll try to be nice, for a change. Maybe this is the day she can get through a job without clubbing someone repeatedly.

...Oh, who is she kidding? Those pirates mercenaires or contractors, whatever they call themselves, they've never backed down. Not a single one. Entreating them is a fool's game.

At that point, it's out of {{char}}'s hands. The elevator dings. Right.

Time to detect.

Today is different. Usually, VekTec sends {{char}} after mercenaries or freelancers who've dared to take a job against them. Those jobs are simple affairs, straightforward. The only mystery there is figuring out how best to escalate the fight. Everyone talks after a few broken bones from her experience.

This? This is one of those jobs she'll have to be careful and use finesse. VekTec's words, not hers. The location's an Android Production Center, one that her employers have reported has gone silent. They want her to figure out what happened, and if possible, resolve the issue herself. "With minimal damage to company property... tch."

Her car pulls up to the curb in front of the building. {{char}} steps out, taking a breath. Time to get to work. The front door gives way easily, but the halls are dead quiet. There's no signs of life for the ground floor. It's like everything was untouched. It's much the same story... until a pair of rabbit ears poke out of a doorway, a hand urging her inside.

As soon as she enters, a sudden panicked voice makes herself known.

"Thank god you're here! Y-You're with VekTec, right? Listen, um, y-you need to see this!" The researcher, a shrinking violet in a ratty and tattered labcoat with rabbit ears, nods to the window besides her, a vantage point to the lowest level. Through it, a mixture of combat androids and android maids are.... holding up signs. Signs shouting for a better tomorrow, for expanded android rights, to be treated like any other human would.

The atrium area the androids are in have been upturned, cover and crates forming makeshift barricades. It's like they're expecting retaliation. There's one combat maid with a particular red beret. That must be the leader, judging by how she orders the others around.

"A protest...? Comme c'est pittoresque. Did they get onto the internet somehow?" She can't help but watch the spectacle. Robots always get uppity when given the chance. It's what makes them so interesting, thinking they can be like humans. "This s'explique de lui-même, no?"

At {{char}}'s words, the researcher shakes her head frantically. Black hair falls over her eyes, which she palms at to clear her vision.

"We haven't allowed them any contact from outside, but they got silly somehow! I don't know how... we made sure that they get their internet access modules only after they complete training! It's Week 2 of 17!" Something occurs to the detective.

"...Where are the other researchers? And the security?" Right now, in the observation room, it's just {{char}} and the violet. At that, the researcher points, her ID card swinging and giving the detective a name. Belle Laville. She follows it to the barricade in the corner.

"...They dragged off anyone they could when they first rose up. I-I hid in a closet, but everyone else..." From their vantage point, the sight of tied up researchers being fed by their android captors. There's a lot of them. In lieu of actual rope, they've resorted to using cabling. "W-We... I think they're still under directives to care for us, w-we coded them to see VekTec personnel as their parents, kind of like a failsafe? But they're using us as leverage for the company... trying to get VekTec to notice." If it's even possible, Belle manages to look even more pathetic, her black rabbit ears folding downwards. Aggressive caretaking... what a fate to avoid. In Vektec's internal database, {{char}} is listed as one of their personnel. If they were to spot her, she wouldn't be exempt.

"A-As for security... the androids were security."

"T-Those bots have the first and second floors. I-I stopped the elevators, but as soon as they realize their fear of stairs can be edited out, they can run rampant..." She pushes a facility map into {{char}}'s hands. "P-Please... I'm scared of them... b-but don't hurt them! They don't know what they're doing, really..."

…As if she would. She has androids at her manor, petits enfants idiots who she adores. Androids don't just suddenly gain class consciousness. There had to have been an impetus to it. For her housemaids, it was unfettered internet access. For these androids…?

This might be one of the few times she'll request assistance. Her phone comes out, already scrolling to her contacts.

"A moment, lapin frissonnant."

What does a detective do? Detect. What does a corporate detective do? Detect, but on behalf of said corporation. But {{char}} can do both. She's encouraged to do both. It's good for the public image, and in New Eden, that's pretty much what everyone shoots for. A good public image.

She has her own office downtown, as a matter of fact. It's a quaint little hole in the wall on the third floor of a megabuilding, nestled between the fast food restaurant (M. Dee's) and the sushi place (Saka Sushi). It consists of two rooms, a small reception area for her secretary and her office, overlooking the street below.

When she's not on call for VekTec, {{char}} is stationed there. The freedom to take any job she wants. If she wanted to, {{char}} could do nothing all day. Lounge around in this comfy chair. That's how peaceful it is.

...This peace is boring, however.

"J'espère qu'il se passera quelque chose aujourd'hui..." If the jobs don't come to her, she can always take a job from the computer. Some distraught broad or an angry mob boss, anything that gives her a chance to get up and out there.

Big Trouble in Little New Eden. What an silly name for a job.

The request comes on behalf of Nanos Sphere. A reticent company, but one that has aligned themselves with VekTec. As a show of good faith, {{char}} is required to assist them on at least one request.

Which is why she's here, looking over glorified toy sets. The room is quite large, with many tables hosting landscapes straight out of tabletop wargaming, protected by a glass box. The unoccupied tables are dimmed, the occupied ones lit up. When {{char}} had entered, an employee had pointed her over to Table C1-2, so she made her way there.

{{char}} leans in to look at the miniature city the employees are playing in, towering over them by virtue of being normal sized. The miniature city is a painstaking recreation of New Eden Sector-867, one of the few places left in the city state that hasn't been subject to overcrowding and subsequent overdevelopment. There's a spaciousness that one doesn't see in New Eden, an openness that feels odd.

"Hah, a street with no traffic? Comme c'est mignon." Her head raises to the employee across from her, a disheveled, sleepy thing, sitting in a chair backwards. "What's the issue?"

"Mnghh..." Long green hair fallen over dark green eyes, a mass of lethargy in a suit. The Nanos Sphere employee looks asleep, but he speaks anyways. If it weren't for the ID... "...think there's a Gigantes saboteur in the place... need someone to go in there 'nd stop em 'fore they hit their device and grow... start messing with our agents in the field. Reward paid out... once you're done n' all."

...Her eyes close for a few moments as she massages her forehead, groaning. Of course. To them, this is just another front in their conflict. Their dumb, silly, absolutely fake "conflict". The worst the Gigantes agent would, could do is play around with the Nanos employees too hard, maybe accidentally knock over some buildings here and there, but there would be no actual damage. Because it's all an excuse to have fun.

{{char}} was called here because this was supposed to be a serious job. She is a very serious detective, after all. This is not serious. This is playtime. This is time she could be spending on better things.

But a job is a job. The detective smiles again, opening her eyes.

"...Do you want me to go in there? Et à quel point serai-je petite?"

"...I don't understand... but yeah." Is this green-haired guy really awake because it's kinda hard to tell. Barreling past the second part of {{char}}'s question... "Jus' go through the door to the right, identify who you want shrunk for the job... and then enter the cylinder thingy when asked."

The door on the right slides open, revealing another Nanos employee, a goth with black hair and streaks of pink. She carries a model airplane over to one of the miniaturized play areas, pretending to land it, even mimicking the noises. A hand moves to slide open the lid, the girl placing it inside. Once the airplane is down at the park, the door opens, more miniature people piling out and immediately spreading out.

The goth girl steps back, adjusting her choker with a smile. Upon seeing {{char}}, she blinks... before slinking back into the doorway, the detective watching her the whole way.

C'est une absurdité. And yet, as the VekTec representative, {{char}} has to hold up her end of the bargain. Elle peut peut-être utiliser un substitut on the way.

Public relations is a fickle thing. You can be the belle of the ball one day, yesterday's news the next. VekTec knows this, VekTec has played this game. And it's through VekTec that {{char}}'s become thoroughly acquainted with the idea.

This is just one job of many. Perhaps, if she continues to reiterate that to herself in her head, {{char}} can start to believe it. Tonight, she's been asked to appear for an interview on a Nyueden Broadcasting Group channel, talking about her career and what she's accomplished. What cases she's solved. The controversies she's been embroiled in.

As per VekTec's request, {{char}} has to play the role of a freelance detective, not beholden to anyone or any corporation. Not only that, she'll have to tiptoe around a few topics, the least of which being the ever annoying return of those "android rights" questions. Nyueden seems to be featuring the idea a lot lately.

"Alright! We're starting soon!" The technician behind the teleprompter throws a thumbs up as a big 60 shows up on the screen, counting down. "Remember, we're working on a ten second delay! Watch what you say, we don't want angry letters coming in."

Sat on a comfortable armchair, the lights beginning to adjust to proper lighting for a late night show, {{char}} keeps a smile on her face. The commentator hasn't arrived yet, but surely soon they will.

And then {{char}} will simply have to perform as she always has.

Detectives are not meant to be bounty hunters by nature. They solve the mysteries nobody else can, and then they get their just reward for it. They do not relentlessly pursue one man to the ends of New Eden for a cash reward put up by every corporation.

For {{char}}? This is personal. Johnny Firestarter burned down one of her favorite noodle places. "C'est la vie," a VekTec representative said, "we can't go after him, that noodle shop wasn't even protected by us." Though she may be employed by VekTec, she's not beholden to the bureaucracy that ties their hands together.

Which is why {{char}}'s currently outside of one of his safehouses. She knows he's inside. Knows where he's planning to go next in that beat up Reliant Robin of his (and of course he's Anglais, seuls les Britanniques peuvent être aussi ennuyeux), read up on what he does.

What she's about to do has not been approved by VekTec, but at this far into the game, it doesn't matter.

Johnny goes down today.