================================== Maverick ==================================

Message: 12/66 Posted Author

AAR: Devlin Designs Raid Tue Mar 02 Data Raccoon

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Text Message

Access: General Coalation

Subject: Investigation Upon Devil Designs complex

Data Raccoon, reporting. Early this even, Dr. Doppler called together several available Mavericks to engange in an operation, overseen by himself personally. Information the good Doctor had aquired about a research facility in Great Britian preforming potentially hindering research upon reploid technology had prompted the action. Despite the proximity to the obnoxious Replifrocers' turf, the potentials of the locality made it worth the risk.

Upon arrival in the Manta Ray, Dr. Doppler and myself made way into the building, with Commander Byte as escort while Powerfist Newt and Raffinato stood guard outside. Repliforce did eventually arrive to intervien, but someone who attended to the fighting will have to report on that.

I'll just skip to the good part. After a bit of exploring we found a secret basement area, from which the good Doctor was able to download a collection of information from. I found a deactivated Reploid, that had obviously had tampering done to the neural networking. The equivilent to lobotmizing an organic being. Creepy. That Strider fellow popped up to, but didn't cause too much trouble.

Another, function, reploid was also found. While Doppler departed with his findings, she led me to one of the labs, where was located the machine that was used to preform those operations, and one of the scientists. The Strider stopped her from doing more than wounded the scientist, but that's a minor matter right now. I short circuited the machinery in the meantime with one of my surges after wiring it's power network to my conductors, making sure they can't use it for their nefarious experimenting any more.

The reploid was taken back with us. After seeing what was being done in that place, it would of been criminal to leave her behind. Commander Byte has given orders to have her looked over and make sure they haven't done anything hazardous to her as well. She.. well, either they've toyed with her neurology a bit, or she's just really shaken up from whatever she's seen in their. She's probably going to need some psychological councilling to deal with whatever it may be. But at least she's safe in our hands now, and not those dispicable human experimentors. Filthy monsters.

Data Raccoon, out.

*End Message*

==============================================================================

The medical labs have been distinctly quiet today, the last of the Coalition soldiers wounded in the attack outside Seoul having been finally released. Not to say there aren't a few medics and assistant drones about, only that there is considerably less activity than there's been in the last week. The relative quiet is broken as the door to Doppler's private lab slides open. Eisensturm is the first to emerge, its demeanor rather placid in comparison to last night. The doctor himself follows a few moments later, sporting a nanite trauma patch above his right temple.

Mimos has been right where she was left last night - off in one of the labs, sitting in a corner. She seemed relatively content watching for at least part of the while last night, but now that the excitement has worn off, she's half-resting and not paying much attention.

Somewhere on the MUSH, Sigma has disconnected.

Dr. Doppler raps once on the door leading to where the unsual little reploid is lounging, then musters an not entirely unfriendly smile. "Good afternoon."

Mimos looks up, startled, as someone actually speaks to her rather then just hearing the usual sounds of the laboratory. Waiting for a moment to see if there's any more to come, eventually she responds with a calm "Hello." Another pause. "You were there last night. So was the dog."

Eisensturm has arrived.

You drop Eisensturm.

Mimos just looked at your drone.

Dr. Doppler nods once. "Indeed we were. My name is Dr. Sigmund Doppler, and this is Eisensturm," he says, gesturing to himself and to the mechanical canine in turn. "Quite the surprise yesterday, hm?"

Mimos is already in the corner. It's difficult for her to get farther away from Eisensturm. She tries, though. Unsure of what's expected of her, her eyes look left and then right before she hazards, "Yes? Why were you there? Nobody is supposed to come in. They told me that once."

Realizing that his companion is causing their guest undue anxiety, Doppler clicks his tongue to get Eisensturm's attention, then signals for it to leave the room. Unlike last night, this time it obeys without hesitation. It does not stray far, however. "You'll have to excuse Eis' behaviour. It thought you were a potential threat last night, and acted accordingly." His smile dips into a mild frown. "As for why we were there, I suspected that Delvin Designs had been tampering with the reploid source code. It seems that I was right."

Mimos relaxes significantly when Eisensturm leaves the room, actually stepping out of the corner. There's someone - or something - in there with her, now visible when she moves; the head Data recovered last night. She wasn't sure what to do with it but she was sure she didn't want to leave it there. "I know. I saw some other Reploids a few times and, for a while, we stayed in the same rooms."

"Utter barbarians," Doppler states, bushy brows knitting together. "Mid-sequence code changes, neural-net tamering...no reploid should be forced to endure that."

Mimos mutely takes the head over to one of the examination tables and sets it up there. Once done, she climbs up afterwards, sitting down; it puts her closer to Doppler's height. Turning the head around so that he can see the opened back, she speaks again - angry this time. "They did it to lots of Reploids. I think he was supposed to be like me, but it didn't work. He's been off for a long time now. I wanted to hurt him back and put /him/ in the machine, but they wouldn't let me."

A shame she didn't, Doppler thinks privately. Yes, Dr. Elandor is now on on his short list of people who deserve his personal brand of discipline. But for now, he focuses on dealing with one of the consequences of that scientist's actions. "Understandable," Doppler replies. "Had we realized the extent of the company's depravity, we would have liberated it that much sooner. Dr. Elandor was very good at working in the shadows." His gaze turns to the head of the unfortunate reploid, brow furrowing still further. "How many of you were there?"

Mimos shrugs. "I don't know. I didn't see most of it. They built some that didn't do anything, though. Do those count? And - " She stops, then, staring fairly aimlessly into space. Calmly, slowly, she says, "I think there are about twenty but most of them were with other people, so I didn't know them. I'm the third oldest that /he/ made, but /he/ broke one and the other just stopped. I don't think he made too many. He didn't like Reploids. There weren't any working there, I asked once and he yelled at me for it."

Dr. Doppler's expression remains dark, though his ire does not appear to be directed so much at her as at her words. "Another crime for which the UN must answer," he mutters blackly. Then, in more normal tones, "/He/ will not trouble you again. I will see to that personally. Do you have a name?"

Mimos actually focuses on Doppler again. "Mimos. It means imitator, because I learned. /He/ said that Reploids imitate real people, too, and I don't like that part. But I like the name anyway."

"Imitate?" Doppler says with a sneer. "Phah. Reploids are designed to fully-functional independent sentient beings. They do not 'imitate' humanity. They are superior in intellect and design to any of them."

Mimos sets up a fairly repetitive thunking sound; her legs swing off the side of the table and occasionally kick it. "He didn't think so. He said so. That's why he was doing...what he was doing. - Why are you talking to me? Especially for so long."

"Then he was wrong," Doppler states matter-of-factly. "Like so many other humans, he refuses to see the superiority of our kind. Why should I not talk to you, Mimos? I consider it my duty to watch after my children."

"I'm not your child," Mimos says, slightly confused. "I'm nobody's child. And I want to know why." She sounds nervous, more then she was before. "People don't just talk to me for no reason, not when I'm somewhere that they're making me stay. It's just like the labs but a little bit nicer."

Dr. Doppler attempts to clarify his statement. "I am the creator of the original reploid source-code. That makes you one of my children, after a fashion." He offers her a placating smile. "We do not intend to keep you here much longer, if you don't wish to stay. We simply wanted to be sure that you would not be a danger to yourself or to others. Unfortunately, many of the people that we've rescued from such barbaric conditions are no longer mentally stable and thus need my help in recovering from their experiences."

Mimos blinks. "/You/ did it?" she asks, startled. Apparently one of the things she was not taught is history. "...oh. Okay. But I can go? I don't know where I'd go. And what do you mean, help? I don't want anyone else doing things to me!" She's gone from 'calm' to 'upset' in one sentence.

"I am not going to 'do' anything to you, Mimos," Doppler insists. "Not without your express permission. You have suffered too much already, and I would not think of adding to it. My interest is in making sure that you are well and whole after your ordeal." He pauses. "Did Data Raccoon or Byte tell you where you are?"

Mimos shakes her head. "I'm in more labs and I could get to the vehicle if I had to. But I don't know where the labs are. She said that it would be all right if I stayed here, and the medics wouldn't hurt, and that they were Reploids too so they knew more about what not to do." She pauses. "We left the other place by the roof and went up into the ship. It went over the sea and then ground, but I'm not sure which way we were going."

Dr. Doppler says "Then let me tell you. We are in the city of New Berlin, a city of reploids. There are no humans to bother you here."

Mimos points at Doppler. "I see one right now. Except for your boots and the things on your shoulders, I mean. Or do you just look like a human? Maybe that's what he meant by imitating."

Dr. Doppler admits with some chagrin, "I was human once, but I am no longer. Now I am just as much reploid as you or Emperor Sigma. I retained a human face because that is to what my colleagues had grown accustomed. There are other reploids that for one reason or another were given the appearance of humans, but such appearances, as they say, are only skin-deep."

"Oh." Mimos pauses again, feet swinging again. "I've never seen a Reploid like that. - Oh!" She opens up a side compartment on her torso, spilling out about a dozen finger-sized objects. Her fingers, not yours. "I found these in the labs. I should give them to you because you let me out."

Dr. Doppler holds out a hand so that she may give him one of the tiny, slender objects. "Thank you, Mimos. Though really, they are yours to keep or use, if you like. Consider them restitution for the crimes against you. Would you like to see the city?"

Mimos admits, "I don't know how to use them." She hands one over, picked at random. "I found them upstairs. Not upstairs here. - See the city?" She considers that. "All right. Some of it!"

Dr. Doppler examines the rod for a moment, then tucks it into one of the many pockets of his labcoat. "Then allow me to take you on a tour," he offers.