Black Residence: You Can (Not) Go Your Way
"Let's get her to Megaton first."
Oooooh, she's going for the sympathy points. Careful, she's a good one.
What the figure was true. The only reason she would probably show caring, even a hint of it, would be to find a way to get Jonathan to agree with her. Unfortunately for her, Jonathan had been playing this kind of game way before she was probably born; 'twas why he got as far in the Enclave as he did. Even if he was the greatest scientist to grace earth since Isaac Newton, the stigma of being caught hacking would have ment he would be left to rot in a room that was much more akin to a cell. He needed to learn how to manipulate people if he wanted to get anywhere, and over the years he had grown to so good at it he would probably believe his own lies if he pressed himself long enough. A few key words and an unsuspecting mind makes all the difference when trying to get what you want.
Luckily for Jonathan, he still had his wits about him, and remained unmoved by her show of sympathy.
What was curious, though, was how she turned the colouring of her armour from black to silver. Such technology was still in a theoretical stage when he was still around. Just how much had they progressed technologically in as little as ten years?
"Before I tell you anything, just know that even a whisper of what I say coming from your mouths is as good as putting a pistol to your head and pulling the trigger. I won't have any problems submitting the report stating that you are a danger to the Enclave and its goals."
Awww, look at her. She's soooo cute when she's trying to threaten the guy that took her gun away and could blast her head off. Probably. You aren't that incompetent, are you?
"I have an army that needs weapons and training."
An army. She has an army. And it's loyal to her. Riiiiiiight.
Such a claim really was quite outrageous. A single person getting herself an army, all the while not showing her true colours and remaining trusted enough to carry out missions showed either of two things: The new enclave was incompetent at keeping their agents at check, or she was bullshitting them. Unless...
"I inferred from the lock on your personnel file that you were either someone that could create the weapons that I need or train the army itself."
Lock?
Lock?!
Why was his profile locked? He once was amongst the most high ranking personell of R&D, true, but years passed and he was never confirmed dead. So it would make sence if the file was left unlocked in case a patrol or agent on the field would find him or his remains and update his status. And if there was a lock, that meant she didn't know everything about him.
"Since it looks like you two are a package deal, I could either eliminate the baggage,"
Right. Eliminate the woman that just took down two power-armoured specialists with a goddamn sword. On her own. Without a weapon. Hollow threats! Hollow threats Everywhere!
Still, Jonathan didn't like the way the agent was referring to Kristin. Kristin looked like the person that was too proud to take kindly to being called baggage
Seriously, though, isn't it pissing you off how she acts like she's the most threatening person in the room where all she has going for her is that if she goes down so does this Thomas McGee? Which could, for all intents and purposes, be a faint? I say kill her.
"Or I could include her."
She speaks as if she actually has a choice! It was cute before, but it's getting old.
"I will need you to design and create weapons for the soldiers that I've gathered. Your... compatriot... can train them, seeing as she managed to eliminate two Enclave Heavy Weapons Specialists with nothing but a sword. Once they're outfitted and trained, your work is done."
At the very least, her plan, if that was actually the case, was laid bare. And it was evidently clear that she needed him more than she showed. And Kristin. The agent was clearly attempting to feint her need of Kristin's battle prowess by insulting her. Good. That meant he could be more flexible with his demands.
"Unless you'd like to take part in the changes to come, help remake the Enclave be the beacon of hope that it should be."
Yeah, I'm sure she'd listen to your objections very heartily after you give her everything she could possibly want from you. Then she'd pat you in the back, thank you kindly, and shoot you in the head.
Everything that was needed to be said was said. All that was left was the discussion of the terms. Jonathan turned to face Kristin and-
Shit.
Shiver me timbers, look at her!
So lost in thought was Jonathan, making sure to make a point of every little detail the Agent said, that he had completely ignore what the BlamCo Princess was doing. And as Jonathan looked at her, all he saw in her stare was barely contained murder. The contrast to her regular appearance was evident to him, and he was filled with fear that she would let loose on the Agent and ruin everything. As she turned to face Jonathan, her features noticibly less violent, Jonathan softly shook his head, as though trying to tell her not to do anything rash, worry evident in his face.
What happened then, Jonathan did not quite expect. Jonathan and Agent both stood silently as Kristin was... giving due to the dead? While he expected Kristin to be kind (in her own, abusive way) to her subjects, he never expected this kind of work for those she deemed godless, that had attacked one of the people she considered her own. She was... kind. Kinder than most people Jonathan had met.
Then, as though the funeral rites were the calm, Kristin turned her attention back to the agent and brought the storm.
"'Baggage'" Kristin started, her booming voice filled with pride.
Shit. I knew she wasn't gonna let that slide.
Oh! Oh! I wonder if she'll cut her to pieces horizontally or vertically. Let's make a bet! I say vertically!
"'Train them'. You wish me to roll over for your imaginary army while your own bodyguards were so easily dispatched? Surrender myself to you while your words ring hollow? How utterly foolish!"
I'll be honest, I didn't expect her to pick up that the whore of Babylon was preaching bullshizzle. I must admit, she's smarter than she looks. Not like that says much, mind you, but I won't classify her as goldfish-head anymore. I hereby announce that she, from this moment henceforth, will be classified as dodo-head.
The princess circled the Agent as a wolf pack does with its prey, and it was evident from the way the princess eyed the agent that even the slightest of provocations would mean the agent's end.
"That seems to be the sort of language that your kind is used to"
'Your kind'. You should probably take offence to that. You are, after all, also one of her kind, aren't you?
"Desperation brought about by cowards who have forfeited their right to make demands when they encase their bodies in shameful armor."
Hey, you don't have to wear armor to be a coward! Just take a look at Johnny boy, here!
You have given me no reason to fear the 'might' of your imaginary army!"
At that moment, Kristin placed, rather forcibly, her hand on Jonathan's shoulder, and he barely held back groaning from the pain. As she rather effortlessly raised her humongous weapon and pointed it at the Agent, and upon seeing the flare and hint of murder in her eyes, Jonathan started frantically shaking his head in disagreement of the course the BlamCo Princess was taking as he stared at her in horror.
"I can see your army now. Dead men walk as they swarm before me. LEST YOU FORGET...that we, the agents of the Gods. The Paladins of BlamCo are now the ones that stand in thine way!"
I don't like the way this is going. I REALLY don't like the way this is going.
Jonathan's heart rate skyrocketed as Kristin started taking steps towards #411.It was at that moment that Jonathan heard the sound of... popcorn being eaten? He turned towards the direction, then saw it was the figure eating and so frantically turned back to face the princess.
Whaaaaat? said the figure, her voice muffled from the munching of the popcorn,
This shit is getting intense!
"This war had already begun the moment you stepped foot within the home of Miss Black and by extension, the new Springvale BlamCo Branch. She said as she raised her sword at the agent. If this were a cartoon, Jonathan would probably be munching on his hat from the stress of the moment.
Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! SHIT!
Holy Shit! Here it comes!
Kristin swung at the agent's helmet, utterly destroying it.
"My Advisor graced you with a declaration and I am allowing you to live another day!"
Jonathan let out the deepest sigh of relief he probably had in years. He felt that he was pretty close to having a heart attack.
Well, that was disappointing. My fault for getting my expectations high over a bunch of incompetent idiots.
"I care not for your poison-laced proposals! We, Blamco's, carve our own path!"
She was ruining everything!
"What say you, my dear Advisor!?"
After a moment of staring at her blankly, Jonathan facepalmed with such force that his face visibly reddened where his palm hit. Before he could muster a response, #411, apparently unmoved by the Princesses' display of force, presented a counterargument.
"If you're quite done, I should clear up a few things. First and foremost, there are no men in this army. They are in fact all women."
Take that, Patriarchy!
#411 proceeded to pick up her tablet, and, after tinkering with it for a bit, changed the feed. What Jonathan saw left him in shock, though he suppressed himself from showing it.
Clones. They actually have freaking clones!
Yeah, can you imagine a world with more than one whores or dodo-heads? That would be terrible!
As Jonathan stood there aghaust, thinking back to remember what he knew about the cloning project, he noticed how the agent seemingly highlighted stockpiles of BlamCo Ham & Cheese and the clones' inability to cook it well.
"They need your help, they'll either starve or die ill equipped to take on the Enclave."
She's a devil in disguise, alright.
"MISS KRISTIN!" Jonathan shouted commandingly, to make sure he got her attention. "If you could spare a moment of your time, I would like that we discuss matters...
privately."
Kristin approached, and Jonathan moved further away from #411, to make certain that what was said wouldn't be heard. After making it a ways away, but not far enough that monitoring #411 would be difficult, Jonathan put his hat in the way as a makeshift wall, to make sure that the agent wouldn't pick up what he wanted to say through the movements of his lips.
"My dear princess," he started in a whisper, just loud enough for Kristin to hear, "I understand your frustration, believe me. Working for the enclave, even a splinter cell, is the one thing that I realy don't want to do. But now
is not the time to act without thinking!
He then said the rest not in words, but by lip motion
(Unless we come to an agreement with her, Thomas' life might be at stake, and he means the world to Lucy. Please, let me handle this.)
But how are you going to handle this? came the million dollar question from the ever present and ever mocking figure. And as much as it pained Jonathan to admit it, it was right. He wasn't sure what to do to not fall into her web and not jeopardize McGee's life. He lowered his head and placed his hand on his chin in contemplation.
Yep, I would say that your situation is pretty hopeless. From where I'm standing, eating this delicious popcorn, you have two options: You can join her, repeating the whole "working for the people you hate due to fear" thing and possibly installing a new dictator to replace the last. Here's the new boss, same as the old boss. Or, you could refuse co-operation with her, she reveals your declaration of war to the rest of the Enclave, probably kills McGee and your days are numbered. Whichever you choose, you lose. So, what kind of loss will you choose?
Jonathan's face lit up as an epiphany came to him.
Neither.
What?!
Jonathan turned back to face #411 with a flare in his eyes and a grin of satisfaction on his face.
"I have heard the full extent of your plan, analyzed it, and found it wanting." he proceeded to point at the tablet, "Unless I am mistaken, those are clones. I recall the Clone project, a friend worked on it. It was created as a way to counter the small numbers the Enclave always had... but not replace the regular soldiers. The reason is apparent from the feed: They are incapable of complex thought. And, again, unless I am mistaken, they are hardwired to follow the orders of one person. Unless you believe that brute force will be enough to deal with the Enclave, both are crippling weaknesses. What if they get outsmarted and outmaneuvered? What if their commander gets killed? You are leaving too much to chance, and I stand unimpressed."
"Fortunately," he said as he assumed a more relaxed stance, "I have a way to counteract this. It's simple. You'll need allies. Regular, human allies. Unfortunately, your ties to the Enclave would probably shut all potential allies off." he pointed at himself with his thumb, "That is where we come in. Kristin and I will wander the Wasteland and strike deals with the major players of the region, so that we have more than just clones to work with when it comes to war. Once alliances are established, I will create weapons for your clones, and we will commence the uprising."
Ah, I see what you're doing there. Impressive.
"Sure, it may take a longer time, but I would rather do things slow and succeed than rush and fail, don't you? Besides, through the uprising our new allies will see our will to change the Enclave into a force of good, and thus trust us more, solving the problem of our reputation. We'll need to eventually work with the rest of the Wasteland if we want to change things for the better. And we
are, after all, doing all this to change things for the better, aren't we?" he cast a knowing glare at the Agent.
"So, what say you? I think I have noted why your plan wouldn't work rather well. And even if I am wrong, my plan still gives us a better chance to suceed, better long-term benefits, and we'll work towards the same goal in the end."
