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Chapter 32 - A Woman Scorned
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Stepping out into the open air (or as open as the air could be in a cave) of the Outpost, Joe took a deep breath and-
"HELLO!"
-Let out a squeal, jumping in place and sharply turning to the auditory assailant.
A long-haired blonde, hair parted down the middle, athletic in her form, bedecked in form-fitting greys and blacks accented in oranges - her outfit looked the part of a combination of work wear and athletic wear, well-fitted and bearing iconic athlete stripes - she was, as most of the women Joe wound up interacting with regularly were, gorgeous. She was staring at him with wide, sky blue eyes, a wide, open-mouth smile gracing her-
"Hi! I'm Centi!" she cried out, demonstrating that she, like Ingrid, likely had no indoor voice - though her outstretched hand indicated that she was probably a good deal more personable than Ingrid. "You must be the Commander, right?"
"Uh," Joe was in a half-stupor, so caught off-guard that his usual runaway internal monologue that had to slave over every detail of a beautiful woman was derailed, and he didn't make a complete ass of himself in front of a pretty girl for once. "Y-yeah," he reached out and took her extended hand, "wha-"
"Liter told me to come find you!" Centi declared, immediately about-facing and dragging Joe along despite him having thought she'd been going for a handshake, pretty cleanly revealing that she was a Nikke, given how damned strong she was despite her figure being what it was. "We need some directions for where some stuff's getting put up and stuff!"
Joe had just been going out to clear his head after that whole thing with Rapi. But, as ever, it seemed that there was no rest for the wicked.
"Liter! I found him!" Centi proclaimed as she bodily dragged Joe into the ongoing construction zone. Notably, she stopped, drew him aside, and set a hardhat and high-visibility vest on him with a declaration of "Safety first!" before pulling him deeper into the noisy area.
Getting a close-up view of everything for once, notably, there was no wood in sight. That made sense. It just wasn't worth the risk to send forces up to the surface to fell and gather trees. Instead, everything seemed to be built from what looked to Joe's layman eyes like plastic, stone, metal, and concrete. He was sure the plastic was some wacky turbo-future-tech construction material that did everything wood did, but better, though he wasn't going to get caught up on it regardless.
Looming over a table improvised out of a pile of cinder blocks with a board set over the lot, was a teeny-tiny little lady. She was blonde, her short hair tied up in a little girlish sidetail, a prototypical hardhat adorned with an LED headlamp and rimmed with what looked like communications antennas set atop her crown. She wore a hooded leather jacket over a bright yellow jumpsuit, a tool belt set across her hips - correction: the jacket wasn't hooded, she was simply wearing a hooded shrug beneath the jacket and over the jumpsuit.
The tiny little woman, shockingly tiny even, looked up from a series of documents that seemed to relate to their construction duties. While Centi presented Joe to… he supposed Liter was probably the foreman, the tiny little blonde…
Stared up at Joe. Her expression was blank - after a few moments, evidently deliberately so. Joe recognized that look. It was one he himself wore often since he'd awoken in that hospital bed. For some reason, Liter set eyes on Joe, processed his face, and immediately put on that 'this is beyond my paygrade' expression.
Joe was… perplexed by that. He was building a reputation, yes, but was it so negative?
"...So, yeah," Joe began, stepping up and presenting a hand to the little lady. "Commander Joseph Pholus, pleasure to meet you."
The yellow-clad woman's expression redoubled upon the mention of his name. That bad, huh?
Taking his hand with a terrible, bone-deep exhaustion, she replied in turn. "Foreman Liter, Mighty Tools," she somewhat brusquely declared. "We shouldn't need to take up too much of your time. Just need an idea of what you want done and where to put stuff, since we're wrapping up building all the stuff that was already zoned out when you arrived. Where you'd put the armoury, additional housing, commercial and entertainment districts, that sort of thing."
"Ah, well, uh…" Joe trailed off, looking around the worksite and beyond its borders. He… had no idea of how to actually zone stuff out. Like, he played no small amount of Tropico in his day, but that was a video game, and hardly transferred over to reality. "I'm not sure how much help I'd be with that," he admitted.
"Well then I'll just drag you around the place and point out what would probably be best to set where, and you can just sign off on it as we go then," Liter asserted as she stepped off the solid metal stool she'd been standing on, immediately moving back for the main gate Centi had led Joe in through. "Centi, you supervise everyone while I'm sorting this out with the Commander!"
With a cheerful half-scream of "Sure thing, boss!" Centi bounded off excitedly to the other actively working Nikkes, a bundle of energy that one - and Liter continued onwards.
"Well, come on then, the sooner we have this all sorted, the faster the whole process of officially zoning everything out and getting work started will be," the very tiny little lady, small enough to be mistaken for a child, declared. Every word uttered was backed by a sort of weighty exhaustion usually only found in the elderly. That reminded Joe that Nikkes, by the accounts he'd heard, were technically immortal; thus, it was entirely possible for Nikkes to look incredibly young while being surprisingly advanced in their actual age.
Hoofing along to keep up with the industrious little lady, the displaced Canuck couldn't help but wonder just how old Liter herself must have been, to carry herself with that sort of-
Joe's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of barking, and a blitz of yellow streaking past the entryway to the construction site. Blinking at that, Joe's lips parted before-
"That'd be Volt," Liter answered the question before he asked it. "My robo-dog. Fancy Missilis tech. I set him loose around the Outpost so he doesn't get in trouble around the construction site. Hope that's not an issue."
"...As long as he doesn't just get into trouble elsewhere," Joe warily noted, craning his head around to see if he could catch a glimpse of the apparent mecha-hound. He wasn't all that surprised to hear that the Ark could build fully mechanical animals given that Nikkes existed, but he'd yet to set eyes on anything like that himself.
"Don't think there's anything for him to get in trouble with just yet," Liter asserted as the duo passed into the street proper, Joe taking the hardhat and vest, tossing them on a nearby pile of personal protection equipment before they slipped past the construction site's boundary. "Don't worry, I'll keep him leashed once the Outpost has things of worth he could barrel into and risk damaging."
"Alright, appreciate it," Joe declared as the pair continued on. Joe had been knocked a little off-kilter, and so wasn't up to making small talk. Ergo, Liter just led him on… quietly. Notably quietly. Quiet to the point of being awkward even. She seemed nervous, for some reason. He could only assume that it was because he was a Commander with a burgeoning reputation. His 'peers' were noted for generally being shit-stains, so he couldn't blame Liter for being wary, even obviously uncomfortable around him.
Best to just keep it professional for now, then.
Liter, meanwhile, did her level best to remain calm about that fact that a ghost from a century prior, the Legendary goddamned Commander himself was just casually following her around the Outpost. She distinctly recalled how all of that business with his 'second coming,' the New Hope, had gone down and the resulting suppression of information about both of them in the aftermath. How so many people that made the mistake of being open about remembering the both of them got… Disappeared before the general populace learned to stop openly remembering the Legendary Commander and Goddess in general sixty years ago… The New Hope was too recent to be wiped from the memories of the younger generations of the Ark, entirely, at least. But only the oldest in the Ark still knew the true details of them all, even if they couldn't risk ever bringing it up, ever.
Liter had just assumed that it was a coincidence, him having the same name when Mighty Tools was assigned to the Outpost. But he had the same face, hair, everything from all that old propaganda that had been recalled, redacted and suppressed after the New Hope's so-called 'treason' after claiming that he'd taken everything he was famous for from the Legendary Commander in the first place…
The Foreman of Mighty Tools had no idea what to make of this development. What it meant, how this would affect things, the Ark, the war going forth. But… she knew for damned sure that she was old. Old, tired, and entirely too familiar with how things worked in the Ark. She wouldn't call attention to the fact that she knew who he was, she wouldn't rock the boat. Doubly so when she wasn't sure what was going on. She did know one thing for certain, however.
The curse of interesting times had befallen the Ark, and she had just been assigned a front row seat to bear witness to what was surely bound to be the epicentre of the coming boom, whether she liked it or not.
The foreman of Mighty Tools was way too goddamned old for this shit.
Goddess Squad, their Commander and the High Commander as well, all gathered together, all smiles, all joy. A beaming Red Hood with a pouting Snow White held in a headlock; Rapunzel smiling broadly at the camera as beatifically as always; Scarlet with her shoulder turned to the camera, attempting to look disengaged and uninterested despite the small, satisfied smile on her harsh yet lovely features; Andersen with Liliweiss, the couple lovingly embraced as the High Commander dangerously glowered at Joe from over the rim of his sunglasses; Cinderella with her arms wrapped around the Commander's neck, drawing herself in close to the ever-exasperated man as she vied for his attention as ever; and dutifully at her Commander's side, old parasol set over her shoulder… was Dorothy herself.
A low, repeated series of distant thumps and booms went seemingly unnoticed. Fingers gently stroking the old image, as the wind caught her silken pink hair atop the cliff upon which she stood, Dorothy was lost in the picture captured during that time when the squad was all together, taken on the main deck of the Avenger; that old helicarrier they'd operated off of in the midst of the Initial Rapture Invasion. Back when everything was better, back when everything was right. When they were a whole squad - a team - a family. All of this, this wonderful sight, this beautiful sight they'd taken from her. Robbed her of. They'd been heroes then, respected, venerated. As was proper, as was right, as they deserved.
This is what it should have been. This picture is how it should have always remained. And yet… yet… They were all gone now. Liliweiss, Andersen, Red Hood, Joe… all gone. Taken from them. And her sisters… they didn't understand, they failed to understand, they refused to understand. Those bastards, those ungrateful wretches in the Ark didn't deserve their service. Every minute they spent defending them was a minute they all denigrated themselves. Denigrated, degraded themselves and spat on the memories of Liliweiss, Andersen, Red Hood and Joe.
While here, Dorothy was working to make things right. To take back what was rightfully theirs to begin with. To avenge their fallen comrades. Her cause was right, it was just. The Central Government was corrupt, it was evil. All the information she'd been able to gather about the Ark, all the knowledge she'd obtained from the Nikkes they pointlessly sent out into the field to die, from turncoats like Johan, who had himself been betrayed and scapegoated because they felt like he threatened their power, because of his apparent resemblance to Joe - or at least the image of Joe they'd concocted since they took him from her…
Just as before, Dorothy was the hero here. She was working towards what was best for everyone. How could her old squad mates not see that? How was it they failed to understand? Whatever steps they had to take to secure the Ark from the grip of the Central Government were inherently justified. Whatever sacrifices had to be made, whoever they needed to extract intelligence from, whoever needed to die, be removed from the play field like the pawns they were… The wretched humans in the Ark did not deserve salvation, yet still, Dorothy sought to deliver it unto them. Despite how they'd sinned against their saviours, still, Dorothy was working to tear out the corruption that choked out the Ark from the roots, for the betterment of all, but most especially, to finally reward the truly deserving: herself, and her remaining sisters.
What about this was so difficult to understand? It wasn't as though she sought to destroy the Ark - she wouldn't burn what was rightfully theirs. She would simply take it back. Reclaim it, remind all those within of what they owed to those who had given them their future in the first place. For herself and all her sisters, and in honour of their lost loved ones.
That was perhaps the worst part of all of this. The fact that Snow White, Rapunzel, Scarlet and Cinderella just… seemed content with living like dogs. Surviving off of scraps, sleeping in the wilderness, repairing themselves using scrap metal… all the while, being hunted by the very ungrateful Ark they proclaimed to protect. Despite the fact that they all had rooms in Eden - despite the fact that they would all be welcome back there, welcomed with open arms, if only they'd reject the Central Government's fascist dogma to work towards taking back what had always been theirs-
Pausing, Dorothy noticed that the rhythmic thumping and booming ceased, and looking up from her picture… Ah, yes, just as she'd calculated. The Raptures were all dead - just the same as the Nikkes, leaving a lone, panicked Commander, gazing around in horror upon the realization that he was alone, in the wilderness of the surface. No backup coming…
Quickly depositing the picture into her trusty little bag, Dorothy smiled broadly as she stepped off the edge of the cliff - dipping forth into a momentary free-fall before her momentum shifted along with a flash of light. At once, a pair of glorious wings encircled the starkly-clad Nikke's form before flaring out, Valkyric armour of the purest white gilded in gold shielded her from the assault of their extraterrestrial enemies. Soaring along, riding the wind with ease, Dorothy flew towards the lone Ark Commander, watching as he pitifully scrambled to-and-fro, trying and failing to flip over the dead Nikkes that had been shielding his unworthy visage. He was avoiding the wrecked Raptures as though they were an ongoing threat to him, even dead as they were.
As she neared him, she could hear him crying in an open panic - the fool had made the Nikkes under his command carry the emergency high-powered communications equipment, and now he couldn't find it - Alva Particle density was high enough here that he couldn't simply use the simpler radio integrated in his personal protection equipment. He was isolated, alone. Desperate. Perfect.
With a deliberately heavy flap of her technological wings, backwards-engineered from the technology that had gone into Cinderella's creation, Dorothy announced her presence to the lone Commander as her forward momentum was arrested, ensuring that the sun was at her back. He jumped, shrieked, screamed - a sound most pleasing to her ears, she had to admit. A low pleasure which elicited a wide, closed-lip smile, but one she'd allow herself these days, given the amount of work she put into fulfilling her long-term plans - to say nothing of the frequency with which she was forced to interact with these curs.
Regardless, the Commander, after taking a moment to take in her angelic form, her broad, now gleaming smile… chortled. He rose to his feet, clapping his hands once as he took in her sun-backed visage.
"Hey! Nikke!" He called out, brazen and lacking a solitary ounce of the wonder, awe, and respect his tone should have been dripping in. "Contact the Ark! Tell them that my mission was successful and get me a ride out of here! And be quick about it!" He jabbed an impatient finger out at her. Presuming to command her.
As per usual, the arrogance of the typical Ark Commander was boundless. Regardless of how many she met, regardless of whether they were man or woman, each and every one was ultimately the same: a presumptuous snake that cared nothing for the lives spent around them - thinking of nothing but themselves, what was good and best for them, and how they could get what they wanted out of those they considered their lessers.
Gracefully lowering herself to the grassy Earth, Dorothy continued to smile at the Commander, bedecked in his uniform which was a hollow facsimile of that which the High Commander, Andersen, had once worn. Even their attire seemingly tailor-made to stab at her heart, to infuriate her, to remind her of what the Ark took from her - to remind her of how little respect they had for those they had taken.
Dorothy advanced upon him - saying nothing, but smiling brightly. The Commander's expression fell, his messy head of black hair betraying the ragged, unkempt wretch so barely hidden beneath the cheap uniform he wore. "Hey! Are you deaf!? I'm a Commander, you're a Nikke! That means you have to obey me! Now do what I say before I-" He paused at the same time that Dorothy did.
Looking down, her foot had struck something - the very object he'd been searching for, the corpse of a mass-produced Nikke partially obscuring it. Dorothy leaned down, lifted the Nikke, setting her aside to reveal the communications set.
"Ah! There it is!" The Commander set his hands on his hips, pridefully, as though he'd done anything to be proud of. "Now, take that and- wait, what are you-!?"
Having returned to her full height, Dorothy set her heel atop the device, and in an instant, crushed it underfoot as though the steel and aluminum-encased equipment was made of paper mache. A terrible ruckus was momentarily projected out, before silence fell over the pair.
"Oops," Dorothy airily declared with a beatific smile directed the Commander's way - contrasting heavily with the way she'd so obviously deliberately destroyed the Commander's lifeline to the Ark.
"W-what the fuck do you think you're doing you stupid Nikke-!" the brown-bedecked officer started, taking a few threatening steps towards the violet-eyed pinkette, before he paused once she'd stepped towards him in turn, expression as angelic and lovely as ever. It was at this point that he began to suspect that something was amiss, finally starting to think about the situation, "...Wait, Nikkes can't fly...! Who are you!? W-what manufacturer made you!? What are you doing out here on your own anyways!? What-" Eyes going wide, fear began to take hold on his features. "W-wait, wait, wait! Who are you!? Where's your Commander!? Wh-"
"My Commander?" Dorothy replied, her voice, in contrast to her beautiful smile, was immediately icy and sharp. "My Commander… the man whose legacy you besmirch every day, every minute of every hour you call yourself a Commander. The man who you dare to compare yourself to, whose memory you degrade so frivolously?"
"Wha-what the Hell-!?" The Commander cried out, slipping and falling flat on his rear, now moving to scramble away from an increasingly threatening Dorothy. "S-stay back-!"
At once, Dorothy surged forth, lunging out and knocking the Commander's hat from his head, her fingers entangling in his curly black locks as she took a hold of his hair. Still smiling, broadly, angelically, even. The Commander's eyes went wide, breath hitching in his throat…
Then, his heart all but stopped as Dorothy reached up, and with her free hand, plucked the hearing protectors handed out to Ark Commanders as standard issue from his ears. With both of the devices that served as radio transmitters, his last-ditch connection to the Ark in hand, Dorothy crushed each in her hand, metal, plastic, and rubber falling to the ground unceremoniously as the Commander let out a pitiful whine. "H-Heretic…" he started, pupils becoming unto pinpricks. "Y-you're a Heretic…!"
"Now that is simply rude," Dorothy noted sternly, tutting as she wagged her finger in the Commander's face disapprovingly. "You shouldn't make such assumptions about people you've just met, you know. Especially given how much time and effort I've put into fighting and defeating as many Heretics in my time as possible. I have done more for mankind, continue to do more than you ever will. I'd advise that you not presume to know me when you clearly know so little in general."
There was a pregnant pause before the Commander let out a small huff, no small amount of resolve seeming to return to his sneering features. "I-if you aren't a Heretic, then you're just another Nikke, which means you can't hurt me, no matter how much of this stupid intimidation play you lean into!" he cried out, reaching out and firmly grasping at the arm whose hand was still entangled in his hair. "So get your hands off of me, you bitch-!"
He was silenced when, with her free hand, Dorothy reached out, took a hold of the Commander's hand, and a sickening crack sounded out, followed by a scream of agony.
Releasing the single mangled finger she'd broken to make a point, Dorothy set a deceptively dainty little finger of her own over the typical arrogant Commander's lips, letting out a gentle, almost motherly "Ssshh," as if to hush a mewling child. The fear of God once more returned to the man, Dorothy smiled broadly again, patting his cheek. "Now, have you learned your lesson?" She asked simply.
Whatever pride he'd clung to was broken, the Commander nodded through the tears that rapidly built up in the corners of his eyes, realizing just how terribly precarious his situation really was.
"Good!" Dorothy cheerfully chirped, seeming pleased as punch by the development. "Now that you've learned your place, I have a few questions for you. In particular, regarding the Ark - recent events, any interesting news you may have about new going-ons. If you cooperate, I promise not to hurt you. If you don't… Well, you've seen how short my temper can be. Understood?"
Dorothy had her contacts in the Ark as it was - but sometimes, when information was a bit slow to reach her ears, it was best to simply take information gathering into one's own hands.
And Dorothy was far and away beyond being above getting her hands dirty to further her goals.
