as written by glmstr and Azrican
"We could always try to borrow one of the abandoned vehicles. Hell, are there any other Coalition forces on Valore besides us? I doubt they'd notice if they woke up one morning short a hover-jeep," the Hykan craned her neck to briefly scan up and down the street to look for any feasible vehicles. The ones still left on their avenue all looked to be either too small or two destroyed to be useful, but maybe a few people left the keys in their cars.
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"I believe the Marine Battalion around the city is keeping their distance from this ... judging by what little we've seen of them at least. I fear that if the Exogarden marines were to try and intervene, at their current strength now, the situation could spiral even further out of control." He said, one hand straining at the fabric and armor of his fatigues, the exoskin looking rather cocked and crooked on his only relatively human form. "Of course, from what we've seen now ... I fear to think what might happen if these people are left on their own for any longer." The Digitan replied cautiously, the soft hue of his digital eyes shifting for a moment as he watched a small craft pulse across the dawning sky.
"Your dossier said you were in the Hykan Conflict, First Sergeant. I'm curious, did you ever see anything ... well," He said, metallic face staring off to the broken, scorched house across the street. "Like this?"
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Erika's expression soured at the question. Not with anger, more like grief and guilt. People usually didn't ask about her role in the Hykan Conflict, most of her stories on it came from anecdotes and wacky comparisons.
"Like that? Daily," she slumped her shoulders a little, scenes from the conflict flashed before her.
Burning homes. Torn families. Bodies riddled with bullets in every alley, on every street corner.
"We fought with all of our might for what we thought was the right thing. When you think you're fighting bad people, you start doing terrible things. Me and my men did this," she gestured to the house, "dozens of times. That's why I gave up and turned myself in. That revolution wasn't to fight government oppression. That revolution was a ploy by the Confederacy to split the Hykan people apart, to bring us and the Blue League to our knees. We danced as puppets on strings for them, and now those that lived to tell the tale are either in an asylum, sentenced to the Exogarden, or are living out the rest of their lives in prison."
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The Digitan watched the woman studiously, servos and various pieces of technology watching everything from body temperature to moisture on the skin, pheromones and synpatic firings from her organic systems and chemical dispositions. The words filtered through various audio fractions, digital systems inflecting on the speech and translating it into something he could, in only of the barest sense of the word, 'understand'.
The sun continued it's slow rise, and the automaton let his own shoulders sag a little: causing the nearly empty jacket strung over his rudimentary shell slide with it before he tried his best to break an eerie silence that had fallen over the foyer of the ruined home. "I see ... I hope it was nothing too bad you -- as your kind words it 'couldn't come back from'." He replied calmly, one of the only simple algorithms and programming he could fathom to use, compiled through the countless years of experience he had been consigned to with this evolutionary off-shoot of existence that called itself humanity.
"I would say, perhaps from a point of ignorance, that it made you stronger." He said again, quite shortly after his prior response. A slender metallic hand running up along the strap of the large M4A hanging off his shoulder. "It's been a ... curious experience with your kind, and I might have missed quite a lot in the past couple of centuries before I was -- " Charles stopped for a moment, calm blue oculars narrowing slightly as he seemed to be searching for the word. "Redeemed, if I could use a term from some of your religious texts."
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"I'm here now, and I'm mostly sane, so I guess I made it out okay. I'd like to think it made me stronger, but sometimes I doubt that."
"Anywho," Erika almost jolted from her position and started wandering towards each car to test if they still worked, "let's see if any of these piles of scrap metal still work."
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The Digitan digested the words, the contradictions and separation from what was then and what was now a rather perplexing concept to the automaton as she quickly turned the subject to finding transportation. He would have to research more on this 'Hykan Conflict', outside of what piecemeal rendition of history his kind was afforded within their own domains in those distant stars of the Garden. Following her, with metal feet clunking at every step he spoke. "I believe I can best help with this."
As they came onto the street, his eyes quickly worked up and down the avenue, from first to last. Using powerful abilities of observation, something the Digitan prided themselves on, he scoped the numerous vehicles scattered on the streets in various states of disrepair, and some parked in their driveways that had seemed to be untouched at all. Perhaps defective due to an EMP or, in some other ways, rendered unusable.
"No, no. Aaaaaand ... no."
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"Erm, by undrivable, how difficult would it be to scrap some parts together, and if they aren't fixable, should we keep looking?" Erika jogged towards one of the cars Charles denied and peered in through the window. Without much hesitation Erika picked up her rifle and smashed in the driver's side window with the butt of the gun, and reached in to pop open the hood. It was rather uncanny how similar vehicles on Valore were to the ones in the Garden, from methods to design to materials.
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"I would be surprised if my initial readings missed a possible item here and there, though ... " The Digitan let his automatic voice linger for a moment until the tinkling of glass sounded across the street as dawn quietly crept upon the city once more. "I think you've made your decision though. I was never much of a mechanic -- well, on the things you organics built that is." He replied, holding position close to Erika and holding the semi-automatic rifle at a lazy attention in the unfortunate circumstance they might have alerted anyone to their presence on the empty street.
It was quite obvious that outside of corpses, ruined memories and broken homes they were the only true occupants of this little quiet sector in a storm of death and destruction. "There may be a way to, what is it, 'jerry-rig' something together out of this cobble of parts. We would need to find one with the best structure." He said, scanning from side to side until finding a derelict SUV halfway parked on the driveway and lawn. "That thing seems the most structurally sound."
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"Great idea, Charles," Erika hopped out of the car and dusted herself off. "We can put the cars we want for scrap in neutral and push them towards the van so we can start swapping parts," she followed her own advice and shifted the gear of the sedan, starting to push and steer the vehicle in the direction of their potential ride.
"You should go get the others to help, we might need a lot of spare cars depending on that van's condition."
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"It was a fleeting idea ... do you think you can make use of these vehicles? They seem rather, well, shall I say primitive." He said calmly, trying to take a peek at the woman's work every once in a while as she seemed to be fishing and pilfering whatever she could get her hands on from the vehicles. "They don't have any signatures reminiscent of nanite-burning vehicles I should add ... last time I was under the hood of a Saber, or much less one of those Kund armored cars our good boys do prefer ... " His diatribe carried on as he occasionally walked to the left and right of the woman on the sidewalk.
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"You haven't been in a vehicle that runs off of burning hydrocarbons?" Erika raised an eyebrow at the ABE. Cars running off of gasoline or other simple liquid fuels were in fact very old-fashioned for the Garden, but were they really that unheard of, especially for the Outer Garden or the Blue League. Horakova herself drove a gasoline-powered truck at home, the primitive vehicles were quite reliable for the harsh Hykan weather in comparison to newer and more sophisticated equivalents.
"I drove something quite similar to this as a child. I had a truck for hauling things, but my friend Eva's parents had a van just like this. We'd stuff about ten of us into the back and Eva would drive us to the movies or other places. Some crazy stuff happened in that van, I guess that's what happens when you put that many teenagers in a cramped area."
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A pair of fingers drew up to the side of the ABE's oblique and narrow skull, toggling between several different mediums as the Hykan woman seemed to be drawing what few pieces of machinery she could find that could still be used. She began informing him of a little known aspect of life he could see the Gardenites living in, with his limited knowledge and at it's widest extent only watched in the deadly battlefields of the Outer Garden, or the Colonial Sphere and Outer Territories beyond that. When the mention of the dangers of a group of young adults "stuffed" into the back of a truck came to mind, it took the automaton a few moments to realize humans were another one of those species that physically bred, somehow for pleasure.
"Aaaaah ... an interesting childhood I assume no doubt. So, I guess those old clunkers are similar to these things perhaps? Their engines and internal mechanics seem a little ... ineffective."
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"Yes, very similar. They can't go very quickly in comparison to more up-to-date vehicles at home, but they are easy to use and maintain," Erika lifted the battery out of a minivan and replaced the defunct and rusted battery of the van they were working on.
"Hey Charles is there any gas in the tank?" Horakova tossed her things into the back of the van, and started prying open the glove compartments with an exhaust pipe that she ran over with a car to make a makeshift crowbar. Extra paper, pens, money or other trinkets could prove useful for a long term mission.
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The Digitan promptly strode to the back of the vehicle, one stiff hand running along the side of the derelict machine as he unscrewed the gas-cap and stooped at the knees just slightly. Holding one mechanical "ear" a few inches from the metal body of the car he gave a short twist of his head. "Not enough to siphon out ... something for the SFC to do though." He replied calmly back to the senior NCO, scanning several of the other abandoned cars up and down the street until one sharp finger pointed to a pair of sedans left in a driveway down the street. "Those two may have enough in them though, judging by impulse-scanning they haven't been tampered with."
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"Hawke!" Erika barked back to the house, "we need you to siphon gas. Charles can't do that and I'm busy fixing this car," the First Sergeant was still hunched over and fiddling with things deep in the engine area.
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The front door of the home swung open into the calm, eerily so for some reason or another, dawn and Riley appeared. He hung the AR-91 off one shoulder, hand lazily wrapped about the pistol grip as he descended the front steps with a quick glance up and down the road. As Erika called out, the door slowly began to swing back to close until Hawke arrived not too long behind the Commander. "Yeah yeah I hear ya' you oil-rat ... " He said, a large pod retracting from his forearm and back into what was known as 'travel pacing' for the Geko exoskin.
Riley meanwhile came to stand in the middle of the street, a gust of wing causing a few of the carabiners and straps on his tactical vest and plate carrier to rustle slightly. In the distance the dull crack of a weapon could be heard, and what might be a siren.
Hawke only took a few moments to scrounge a hose and oil can before putting together an impromptu pump with a few pieces of rubber. As he drew the last few drops from one of the sedans across the street he hefted the can up and let it sit on the hood.
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"Alright, let's see if my glorious Hykan jury-rigging skills pulled through," Erika poured the gas from the can into the SUV's tank, and then climbed in and stuck the car's keys into the ignition.
The car sputtered and coughed, but was able to turn over and start. The engine seemed to be fighting tooth and nail to stay running, but it was working, and working was all they needed.
"We've got wheels!"
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As the engine churned and roared Hawke hoisted himself in through the back tail door, leaving the window open to give him a proper point to rest the MMG pod attached to his left arm. Settling with his back against the second row of seats, he draped his M-18 by his side. Tapping one foot against the back gate with the sound of the engine, he fished into a pocket on his plate carrier for a pack of cigarettes as the doors opened. Charles pulled himself into the back seat with his M4A, propping it out the right-side passenger window as he studied the interior.
"Hmmmm, guess this will do." He said calmly, turning to look at the pack of smokes Hawke held over the lip of the seats from the back interior. Curiously the ABE looked back at the Azrican, his lack of human features not preventing an incredulous eye being tossed at the SFC. " ... Really, Sergeant?"
"Nah I've seen you guys doin' it before, we had this mascot from Delta platoon that we'd fit cigars in." Hawke said with a pompous laugh, plugging one in between his own lips as the automaton silently took one.
As Riley strode towards the car from the middle of the street, he pumped one hand on the hood and pointed Erika to the driver's seat, while he would take shotgun. "Alright, let's see if we can get out of this city without too many new holes in this junker."
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"Anchors away," Erika shifted the car into Drive and pressed lazily on the gas pedal. The SUV grumbled and sputtered away down the street, bidding their temporary home goodbye.
"Just yell at me if you want me to turn somewhere," Horakova turned onto what was left of a highway and brought the vehicle up to speed. Hykan speed limits were very high compared to elsewhere in the Garden, so she was likely speeding horrendously by Westerian standards.