Chapter Text
BEACON CITY NAVAL HOSPITAL, UNITED STATES - JULY 20th, 1942 - 0800 HOURS
The sound of the warning bugle echoed throughout the base as the personnel outside the windows turned to face the flag in unison while saluting. The young man under the white sheets groaned as he turned over in bed, grasping at his abdomen as he started to stir in bed. Beside him on both sides were men in similar states, though their injuries were less severe yet still numerous. Attempting to crawl out of bed, Roy stumbled on the waxed tile flooring of the ward as he used the IV pole as a support, making his way to the double doors on the other end of the enlongated room. He soon noticed a sleeping nurse at a cluttered desk near one of the windows and made sure every step he took was that of caution to prevent the nurse from noticing his escape. Nearing his goal and freedom, the rushing sounds of footsteps made him dive behind a shelf full of blankets for the patients. Bracing for a group of master-at-arms to come looking for him, he saw a more portly woman making her way with a trolley full of supplies as her brisk movement caused the doors to open slightly. Shifting around in her chair, the nurse yawned slightly as she began to stir from her slumber. Not wanting his escape to be discovered, this close to the end, he gabbed one of the folded blankets and furled it over the waking nurse. Like a songbird in a cage, she fell back into her deep sleep, muttering some unintelligable words. Sneaking his way through the doors, Roy breathed a sigh of relief with the coast being clear as he looked for where patient belongings were kept during their stay.
Opening up the unsecured locker, he carefully rummaged around before gathering the contents into his arms and sleuthing into a janitorial closet nearby. Cursing to himself through the pain of his headache and sore injuries, a loud knock came to the door. Knowing it would be futile to escape or fight back in such a state, he opened the door with caution. Standing in the way was the same nurse who was sleeping earlier, relief on her face as she laid eyes on the half naked patient she was tasked with looking over.
"I guess you caught me miss," Roy chuckled as he fumbled with the shirt buttons of his blouse, "I didn't want be late to muster with my division, so I am unfortunately cutting my time short here."
"Sir, you need to get back to your bed," She pleaded as she ushered him out, "I don't want to get in trouble the first day out of training, so you follow me back to the room. You are in no state to muster, we've already informed your command about your stay. They're coming on Monday to receive you and then put you in the brig."
Looking into her grass green eyes, he chuckled, "Well although I ain't that religious, I need to make amends with the Lord and I do not want to miss a sermon of the good word."
"Please I want to do my all to support the war effort," The nurse continued to stammer as she came up close to him, "Okay I lied about the command part, they won't know about your absence until Monday due to most of the administration offiices having a skeleton crew at the moment."
"Inform your doctor that me, the patient, has gotten better after getting some sun. Though I seem to already be getting enough in this corner already," Roy confidently said as he brushed the nurse's hands aside.
The nurse began to blush as he straightened his back, now looking eye to eye with him.
"Just be back before noon and I'll give them a different answer," She replied as she hurried him out the door, squinting at the end of the main corridor.
"Well with a pretty face like yours," Roy flirted back as he buttoned up his dungarees, "I wouldn't want to make it frown."
Smoothly exiting the hospital double doors as he made his way down the avenue towards the enlisted barracks near the central roadway of the base, Roy made sure his movements were inconspicuous as he neared his destination. He was about to stroll right onto the quarterdeck of the barracks right before he was stopped by a stern looking chief petty officer on his left. Bracing for the worst case scenario, Roy stood still for a minute as the chief closed the distance. Thinking of an excuse out of his predicament, he let out a faint gulp as the maw of the senior sailor opened.
"Hey there shipmate," The chief greeted firmly, "I noticed your cover was a little crooked from where I was looking and was wondering how long this infraction was going on for?"
Responding with as much fake confidence he could muster, Roy calmly said, "Chief I was saluting two officers while walking back from chow and moved my cover when I hit my hand too hard on the second salute."
Nodding his head in agreement, the Chief chuckled, "Make sure you remember to check yourself before someone else corrects you. Cause I'm a little kinder to junior sailors cause I was one of yous when I joined back in the day before this damned war started. But I have to attend an impromptu meeting about an incident that occured last night on the double."
"Roger that Chief," He responded as he continued on into the barracks, hoping the person he was looking for was there.
UNKNOWN LOCATION, DUPONT, UNITED STATES - JULY 20th, 1942 - Sometime during the Evening
Paisley woke up slowly as a flickering bulb above her casted a dim light below. Through her artificial eyes she saw exposed brick, industrial shelves, crates, and other items used for manufactoring, though her eyes at low power were not accurate. Trying to get up, her attempt was met with restistance from ropes similar to the lines that hold the Watson stead while docked at port. No matter how much strength she gave, her servos would bellow out a creak and moan as they were overworked by the thickness and material her restraints were made from. Heavy footsteps that turned into multiple sets were heard from a metal walkway in front of her. The figures on the gantry were whispering to one another in a language she could not understand, though she could make out some of the words the taller figure to the right of the group was saying, though the distance and the damage to her microphone ears made it more difficult. She kept hearing the mention of a "deal" and "condition". Those words were likely meant towards her in regards to her current situation. Staring at the central figure in the group, the circular lenses upon the head, reflected what little light shone on them, though a gnarly, wide smile came to view as the figure came more into the light. Looking down the helpless robot, the portly-sized man laughed and clapped slowly.
"Aw, if it isn't the little iron fraulein the Americans are using finally in our grasp," He cackled in an accent as he ceased his clapping, "Don't try to struggle too much, those ropes will only make it harder to escape."
Paisley stared back at the man with a scowl on her face, refusing to respond to her captors.
"Tisk tisk," The man continued with his monologue, "It's so unfornuate it had to happen in such a way, but my benefactors are wanting their little project back in their hands. Your government was not so willing to cooperate with us at all, as you are a child of Germany, formed to help her people, do you remember? Or have you been tricked by their white lies to coerce you to aid their war effort against your homeland, your fatherland."
The only response she gave back was her stern look of defiance, though she was internally reflecting on the words of her origins. She only knew about her purpose as a secretary droid, but the man was hyping up her status to hook her into whatever cause he was preaching.
"When I first set my eyes upon you back in the heart of Germany, most of the other Reichministers were unimpressed by your features," He started to ramble on, "But I saw more use for you. You could create different messages in an instant, even confusing our own when applied militarily, but the old guard prevented your use due to the prototype nature of your existence. Yet we can use you here, joining our cause so we can see a total victory. Imagine your name being remembered forever in history as part of the Third German Reich, the unifier for the entire world!"
Gathering her strength Paisley snapped the ropes and back of the chair that held her captive, yelling out as she threw a massive piece towards the men above her, "YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO KILL ME FIRST!"
The piece of wood lodged itself near the bespectacled man, missing him by inches, but instead of intervening, he waved his hand around, motioning an order silently. Paisley made a mad dash towards the other end of the immense space they were holding her captive in. She dared not to look back in case they were chasing her. Just feet from the open doorway to a courtyard and freedom, she was slammed against a wall in an instant by a towering industrial robot's arm. Moving her hair to the side, a warning came a few seconds later about damaged servos, cracked coolant lines, and imminent shutdown repeated as she thought of freedom. Using the wall for support, she tried to lift herself up, but strain of her power loss and ruined legs caused her to fall down harder and harder with each limping attempt at escape. Knowing this was the end of her and the eventual obsolescence of her duties, she accepted her fate as initiated shutdown before they could use her against the people she loved.
Approaching the lifeless, mangled mess that was left of Paisley, the man sighed as his hands began to tremble. A mix of emotions started to flow through him as his hands turned into fists. Clenching a dented cartridge, he slipped a couple of white capsules into his mouth as he ordered two brutish looking men to take her to a container near the loading dock. He was hesitating whether or not to contact his informants of the situation at hand, knowing the state of the target would lead to some kind of punishment if he were to return. Though he was giving the enemy a hard time as their asset they were relying on was now in his possession. Perhaps he could hold her for ransom of some kind, yet he would be jeprodizing other operations that were ongoing to undermine the American war effort. His mind would mellow out as the pills he popped would take effect.
SOUTHERN GERMANY - Fall 1940
It was an overcast day as the gargantuan chimneys filled the land with a black, dismal smoke as the factory churned out material for the ongoing effort for the German war machine. Birds flew into the air from the trees as a small convoy of black cars adorned with national flags entered the wrought iron gates of the factory grounds, as a man in a pristine, biege business suit met the disembarking officials. The decorated general would be greeted by a salute, but returned the wave with the one of the army. The man would lead the group to a side building on the grounds that was guarded by two armed soldiers, one keeping a barking dog from biting the ankles of the official party. Entering into an atrium of varied machinery strewn about on tables, there was an object in the center hidden by a draped off-white linen sheet. Pulling it off, the man uncovered a sleek, metallic figure. He felt behind the neck of the robot, pressing a button near the base of the head and neck, causing the chest of it to emit a brilliant, blinding blue light across the entire room. The gentle whirring of the internaal machinery and near silent beeping signals caught the official party by surprise as the machine opened up its eyes for the first time. It stood like a sentinel on guard as men in uniforms and suits approached it in curiousity and apprehension. One of the suited men had a wide grin on his face as he saw the machine activate, the blue light gleaming in his round spectacles as he witnessed the fruits of labor come to life.. He scanned through the files in his hand and cleared his throat while ignoring the man still holding the tarp.
"Reichsminister Bernhard Rust and members of the board, I present you my greatest creation so far," the suited man boasted as he adjusted his glasses, "Made to assist the German people both at home and the workspace. For this robot is more advanced than what the Americans or Russians could create in over fifty years, my team and I did that in a fraction of that amount using half the total amount."
The robot silently scanned the room and the group of ministers and generals in front of it, barely tilting or rotating its head to do so. It observed each individual reaction on their faces and body language. It blinked once, catching the awe of the audience it had. As its synthetic brain reached to full power, it began to speak.
"Hello, I am Leimweil GmbH. Prototyp Modell EC-50939," Its static voice box declared, "How may I be of assistance?"
"God in heaven, Herr Brandt, what have you created," One decorated general shouted in amazement as he stooped down to stare into its glass eyes.
"Amazing work what the German people's minds can do without foreign intervention," an older minister muttered to himself.
"This has to be fake," A young officer in a different styled uniform protested, "There has to be a radio controller somewhere."
"My dear friends I understand your thoughts on this project, but this is the future for our glorious Reich," The scientist announced boldly as he powered down the robot, "With this machine, not only will we dominate the world through German technical superiority, but the markets of the world as well. For that is our destiny, with the first step being in this machine!"
"Herr Brandt," The reichsminister said as he cleared his throat, "Although this robot shows promise, the Führer asks how we can use them on the battlefield, as if you haven't noticed with your factory orders and deliveries being parts and ammuntion for our guns and vehicles. And our neighbors to the east grow more untrustworthy by the day and the Führer wants to ensure our war goes in our favor."
"Reichsminister you don't understand this, it's what the Führer wanted since he came to power," Brandt protested, shoving the files into the man next to him, "The envisioned plan was for this to help the civilians of the Reich, to ensure the German woman would not be burdened by work and to increase birthrates of the master race. All this effort to only shut it down?"
Setting his hat back on, Bernhard would give a half-hearted sigh, "I will only authorize a small batch for production, as other resources are being sent to sectors more important to the survival of the Reich. Under my authority, you will only see production of ten units which includes the one presented to us. Two will be sent for use in the Kriegsmarine, two for the Wehrmacht and Luftwaffe, one for SS usage, and the final set to be sent to me and the Führer respectively. As he might be persuaded to produce more if there is one in his use."
"I will take this offer, Reichsminister," Brandt said as he gave the minister a halfhearted salute, knowing that the Führer was a man that was difficult to persuade.
Seeing the group of officials and Brandt leave, the man who was roughly handed the papers on the project sighed, he was unimpressed by his superior's extravagant and boastful speech about his creation. The robot was not intended for use as a domestic servant, as those were words of persuasion to get them on board the idea, since most servant-type robots were foreign models from enemy nations or conquered lands. It was his team that designed, manufactured, and tested the robot for a company that managed to avoid liquidation in the United States when the war stared last year. Looking at the metallic face of his creation, he thought about the sleepless nights working on it, the dream that kept him and his small team to create a handful of units, but to only be told to produce ten out of the planned hundreds was a punch to the gut an the soul. Pressing its activation button, he pulled out an ornately engraved locket and stared into the photo encased within. Kissing the face of the woman on the photo, he waited for the robot to power up.
"Hello Herr Lindner," It said in a static, monotone voice, "What do you need assistance with?"
"EC-50939, can you open up your chest panel for me," Lindner said, closing the locket with a snap, "I need to do one last modification."
"As you wish," It obeyed, carefully removing the bolts, "Do you need it to be more exposed, or is this fine?"
"That will do," The man sighed, hesitating for a moment, "Once you have completed this duty, look presentable so you can accompany on a visit to a client for a potential contract."
Moving smoothly to join the creator, it asked, "Is there any style you want me in?"
"I'll get something from the home on the way," The man replied back, "It'll be something warm, as the Alps get a little brisky this time of year."
NAVAL STATION BEACON CITY, UNITED STATES - JULY 20th, 1942 - Sometime around Noon.
A wave of tension was felt across the entire barracks, with most of the sailor waiting for their ships to complete resupply and missions to be assigned. Most were sitting on thier racks playing cards, reading books, or maintaining their uniforms for inspections that could occur at random. Roy knew that the man he was looking for would be somewhere in the compartment on the 2nd floor of the older building, as he made sure no one would pull him aside like the chief at the entry. The room where someone directed him to was mostly sparse, only a handful of sailors were relaxing in the compartment, though there was one person sleeping. Looking at the footlocker at the end of the bedframe, a feeling of relief came over him. Coming to the side of the sleeping sailor, Roy budged him awake until he heard a grunt from under the covers.
"Hey buddy, you got watch," Roy whispered quietly, "I think chief's looking for ya."
Springing awake, the sailor gasped and yelled, "OH FUCK I FORGOT!"
Roy laughed uncontrollably as his age old trick never seemed to go sour.
"What the fuck man," The sailor growled as he met face to face with the joker, "I was about to make love with my sweetheart back home before you pulled that shit on me again."
"Calm down Salerno," Replied Roy as he handed his buddy his dungarees, "You don't have watch, but I need a favor now."
Pulling up his pants, Salerno questioned him, "And what is this favor about? Did you loose an item on your uniform, knock up a lady of the night, or get sent to the brig? Cause I know you know I have connections on this base with everyone including officers. What happened so I can prepare."
"It's the last one I guess to an extent but," Roy sheepishly responded, "I also need help getting a rescue team together for a fellow shipmate. Like before tomorrow levels of urgency."
"I can see what I can do, but that's a lot of favors you owe me back," Pondered the dark-haired sailor, "I know some guys at the armory who can assist you, but this time I am not going with you, as my ship is transferring over to the Pacific tomorrow and I do not want to miss movment."
"Guess that explains why this place is so barren," Roy chuckled while looking around, "Guess one ship's crew is leaving and the next one in port will be housed here for the time being."
Salerno just stared back and sighed, "The guys that are going to help you are a part of shore patrol and know most of the city and the one in the next state over too. Think it's something like Dupont."
"Well thank you for that," He eagerly responded to his shipmate, "And good luck out there in the Pacific, make sure to send as many of the Japs to hell and win us the war on that side of the war."
"Don't need luck Middleton, I got God there to protect me," Salerno shot back as he pulled out a cross on his dogtag chain, "You should have the luck in helping your shipmate out."
"Yeah, but hearing the news of a Japanese blitzkrieg across Asia and the Pacific Islands," Roy chuckled, trying to distract himself from what he said, "Our flyboys at Midway at least put a hold on them for now at least. I just don't want to go back home on leave and see it in rubble."
"Where are you from again," Salerno asked as he tucked his chain back behind his shirt, "It's on the West Coast last time you mentioned it, though a wounderous night of drinking was had."
The young sailor replied back, "Spokane Washington, though I was living in San Fancisco with my aunt when I enlisted."
"Well time is fleeting, it's almost time for chow," He said as he got into a crumpled set of dungarees on the edge of the bed, "Most likely the guys in the armory should be back. Just mention I sent you and I'll see if Doc will be able to assist."
"Thank you my good sir," Roy said as he briskly exited the berthing unit.
The concrete structure of the armory loomed over the sailor as he pushed his way through the doors. Echoing through the barren hallways was the sound of smooth jazz as Roy approached the kiosk, where a sign read: 'Out for Chow, Come Back by 1300.' Staring at the clock on the wall, he compared the hands to the sign. Sighing as he knocked on the wooden boards near the window, he got no response. So he knocked his fist against the wall again. This action led to a loud crash of metal and wood, leaving the tiny pings and snaps to the imagination of the man that caused such an occurance. Standing there for another minute, Roy decided to venture down one of the hallways to his left that was marked with authorized personnel only, though he wondered where the guy on watch was as he marched to the source of the jazz music. The thought of being locked up in the brig or sent to a federal facility gripped at his mind as he wandered through the snaking hallways of the armory, only stopping when he heard laughter coming from the room in front of him. The image of Paisley's smile flashed in his vision as the shadows behind the door danced around. He saw the look of fear upon her face as she was dragged into the dark abyss of that alley where this trouble all began, he knew that he would be kicked out of the navy and be sent to prison if the command found out about his actions. They wouldn't send Captain Sutton away, they would slap him on the wrist and give him a new assignment on some desolate post. Not him, for an enlisted man, there were far worse reprucssions for losing goverment property during wartime condtions. Thinking about Paisley's smile and voice gave him the motivation to snap out of his dissociation and knock hard upon the frosted glass on the door.
BERN, SWISS CONFEDERATION - FALL 1940
"Herr Lindner, I am pleased by your research and design," An unknown voice spoke as he glanced at blueprints, "But at this time, my company's stockholders weary about such purchase and the nature of its origins."
"What do you mean by weary, I thought your company is a major representative in innovation and quality," Lindner protested vehemently as he sipped his coffee, "This is the only chance I have to sell you it before it gets seized by my country."
"I understand your frustrations," The unknown voice continued on as he looked at the brown haired man across from him, "With the recent annexation of France and the Benelux, and threat of war engulfing the rest of Europe, the stockholders and investors in England and America are weary of collaboration with a German researcher. And they do not want to be dealing with a possible belligerent nation and we want to remain neutral in a potential conflict to preserve our company's assets."
Lindner stared back at the platnium blond man with a thin pencil mustache. That was a reasonable response, but coming from a businessman who possibly never toiled away in sleepless nights was insulting to his soul.
"Though I myself have personal interest in your designs," He continued on, "My own company's researchers have spent the entire time since I founded it, trying to get a near sentient robot developed for the domestic market. And you did in a fraction that it took mine, how were you able to do such a thing and with half the resources too."
"Mr. Sterling, I have to admit that it is my team and some measures we took to ensure we could present one to the Reichministries that funded the project," Lindner ranted as he narrowed his eyes, "Though I had to leave most of the research papers behind so they wouldn't suspect my subversion, but I am not leaving here without an answer to my question."
A silence filled the train car after the bold response to Mr. Sterling's interdictions, with the robot seated next to Lindner staring at the mountainous scenery unaware of the conflict occuring in the private train car. The conversation at hand would decide its fate, either to be bought and used by another company for a different purpose compared to her design, or be sent off to the scrappers in Germany and be turned into war material. Its glassy blue eyes shifted over to the mustached man that had some interest for it, observing the details of the man's style and the stylistic "S" pin that was on the lapel. Its curiousity would catch the attention of the businessman as he pulled out a well-worn pocket watch from his vest pocket as they passed a near empty train station.
"I just hoping that you were to purchase it in secret," Lindner sighed as he placed down his coffee, "Anymore time I spend here is more time for the Gestapo to find me guilty of espionage or treason."
"Herr Lindner, I do guarentee that your design will be purchased, let alone your blueprints either," Mr. Sterling whispered as he set his watch back into his pocket, "But I have a major stake in a German business firm that operates in America that could allow us to circumvent the men who are breathing down your neck."
Lechovec sat in silence, joining his creation in viewing the magnificent Swiss landscape outside the window, grasping at the thought of letting his creation go to ensure his labor does not go to waste.
Sterling announced while clearing his throat, "I will make arrangements before you are back in the borders of the Reich, and you will have your creation sent to the address of the company headquarters in Bremen and the rest will be sorted."
"Wait, so you mean that you will buy it from me," He responded back in bewilderment and joy mixed together, "You are a unique man when it comes to making a final decision."
"In some way, yes," The mustached man replied, "But I fear that if your benefactors get word of this, I will be under their scrutiny as well."
"As great innovators ourselves, we have to take those risks to be successfull in our endeavours," He interjected while shaking hand with his harbinger, as the robot looked deep into his eyes when the deal was made.