BR247516-I "Berry" sat quietly, unobtrusively, on a bench, engrossed in the goings-on of the main concourse level of Mars Central. Her operative Kyra had told her she had a surprise for her, so she waited patiently for her return.
The concourse of a major artery for intersystem travel was a new experience. Overwhelming. An incredibly busy, noisy and colourful spectacle. Ever shifting, ever changing. She could sit here watching it raptly for hours. So many beings. So chaotic. But also so ordered. Patterns within patterns within patterns. Fascinating.
So many naturalborn, more than she'd ever seen, strode to and fro. Stopping to buy things from the various little kiosks, or hurrying to catch their flights. Greeting relatives and old friends. Making new ones. She'd also seen some of her siblings from other gene-lines flit past. Lithe UP-S ones, dodging and weaving through the foot traffic, carrying urgent messages. At least two loaders crewed by a heavier UP-C had passed by her position, trying to swim against the steady stream of bodies. And she was sure she'd also spotted some willowy TR-Ys, taking notes as they trailed their corporate bosses. It was all so very interesting, quite unlike anything she'd encountered before.
Her observations were rudely interrupted, and she looked up into a man's face.
"Okay, come on, you're taking me to Pentecost One." he growled, yanking her to her feet.
Berry didn't know what to do. Protocol was confusing. Conflicting. Her primary assignment won out. "Sir, I am sorry, but I am waiting for someone..." she said softly.
Thick fingers tightened, bruising her. "Yeah, well, whoever it is can just grab another one of you lot. You're all the same anyway."
She knew it was true, but it still hurt. It wasn't supposed to hurt. That was incorrect. They had received conditioning against that. But it still did. Curious. "Sir, I really do not think thi–"
"That's right, you things don't think. You were made to follow orders. So just do what I say, y–"
A speeding blur, too fast to make out.
A curious cracking noise, and the pressure on Berry's arm disappeared.
A quickly choked off scream, devolving into gurgles.
A crash behind her.
The sudden din of frightened voices all around her.
People pointing, hastily retreating, leaving her standing alone in a quickly widening, empty area.
Berry blinked in confusion and turned around, rubbing the sore spot.
The stranger was bent backwards over another bench, limbs splayed out in a way that didn't seem comfortable. Or natural. Kyra was crouching on top of him with her full weight, her hand around his throat as his eyes bulged and his face turned red. Her curved spine was thrumming like a bow, her face an inch from his. "Mine." she growled, eyes blazing, and kept squeezing.
Oh.
Berry was unsure what to do. As a clone, she was not allowed to hurt naturalborn, or cause them to come to harm. The rude naturalborn was being harmed because of her, it seemed. But she also was not allowed to hinder naturalborn in their actions. Besides, it was Kyra doing it, so it was probably correct. Her operative would never do anything wrong or improper.
Strident whistles grew closer, louder, as Kyra kept squeezing, eyes still locked onto her prey's. The man's face was turning purple now. Interesting.
"Make way! Make way!" Station security pushed through the throng of watchers, and hurried towards the little tableau. "Hey, you! Stop that this instant! This is your one and only warning! Get off him!" one of them shouted, charging in, shock baton raised.
Kyra didn't even look at him. When he was close enough, her free hand suddenly shot out behind her and grabbed him by the wrist. Twisted. Another sickening crack and scream, which rose to a warbling falsetto as the guard's baton was reversed, used against him, before his twitching body was casually, effortlessly lifted and tossed to the side.
His colleague stopped, hesitated, and then called for backup. "We need riot gear on the concourse, crossing X-6! Right now!" Screamed for it.
Another clone diffidently approached Berry, keeping a wary eye on the chaos happening not too far away. He was carrying a bag, holding it out in front of him like a shield. "BR247516-I, do you know that violent individual?"
She looked at his brown and yellow overalls. Smiled. "Yes, UP189253-S, I do. She is the operative I am assigned to." Berry replied with a hint of pride.
The delivery clone digested this for an instant. Looked her own blue and green pilot's overalls up and down. "I see. I saw her drop this when she... engaged the other naturalborn." he finally said, nervously thrusting the bag at Berry. "Please return it to her. I hope you have a pleasant day, BR247516-I." And off he ran, disappearing into the watching crowd, before she could thank him. Peculiar.
Berry looked at the object in her hands, turning it over. Kyra's bag. It was very good of UP189253-S to have brought it to her, she concluded. It would be terrible if Kyra's new possessions got lost because of her, after all. Curious, she peeked. Another leather jacket, red, like Kyra's. It seemed smaller, however. That was when she spotted the lettering on its back. The part she could see before the fold, read B E R.
Oh...
She was leaking – crying, you are crying her brain prompted. Another thing she wasn't supposed to do. Show emotion. Not where naturalborn could see. And she was surrounded by them. Her conditioning was failing. Very incorrect. But still, she couldn't stop.
The plating danced under Berry's feet, and she was vaguely aware of the rumble of many booted feet drawing nearer.
A show of force, as a whole platoon of security brandishing riot shields advanced on Kyra, banging their Mk V.IV Pacifiers against them in a drumroll of thunder. Berry could see her operative's muscles flex. Prepare. A squeal of feedback. A brash, commanding voice. "Release the citizen at once, or we will be forced to–oh fuck me." An indrawn breath. A sudden change in tone as the woman in charge caught sight of who her lawbreaker was.
Berry wasn't sure, but she thought she saw Kyra smirk.
"Platoon, stand down! I repeat, everyone stand the fuck down if you value your lives! Don't make any sudden moves!" the officer shouted quickly, panicked, and the security force stopped their advance in fits and starts, confused. "Operative, we are so sorry. Will you... please release the... uh, offender?" Questioning. Unsure. Outright begging now. "Alive, Kyra?"
Interesting. Berry had noticed the way Kyra's coworkers always treated her with respect, deferred to her, as did some of the people they'd met on their travels, but she just figured that was because Kyra was so great. So smart. She'd never seen anything near this much... naked fear of her operative. Something to think about, later.
After a few tense seconds, Kyra sighed softly, regretfully, and her fingers uncoiled from around the spacer's neck, leaving stark white lines behind. The man gasped for air and wheezed, trembling beneath this maniac, terrified of what she would do next. "Mine." the operative repeated blandly, mischievously tapping the man on the forehead. She hopped off her perch before sauntering over to her pilot, as if nothing at all had happened.
"Hi. Uh... Sorry about that. I guess you've never actually seen me... work, have you, Berry?" Kyra offered sheepishly as the security force rushed over to help the man to his feet... and slapped cuffs on him. A cuff, on the unbroken arm.
"Why are we arresting him and not her, sarge?" one of the security team whispered as they led the heaving man away, back to their outpost.
"We don't touch or make trouble for the UPWA trouble consultant, because it's her job to make trouble go away, and she's very good at her job, savvy?" his commander bit back. "So we're taking this guy back with us instead, and we all go home tonight. Consider it protective custody. Just be glad she was only playing today. Now move, Hudson."
Berry hummed in thought, paying attention to the whispered conversation going on behind them. Fascinating. "No, I never have. It was interesting."
Kyra's eyebrows shot up. "Interesting? That's it? You weren't... scared?" She suddenly frowned as she noticed the tear tracks on Berry's cheeks. Her voice turned soft. Dangerous. "Did that guy hurt you, Berry?" she purred, head turning to follow the platoon hustling the spacer away, nostrils flaring, fingers flexing in anticipation.
Her pilot blinked. Her arm was a bit sore still, but... Oh. The leak. She wiped her face on her sleeve. "No, I am fine. Just..." she began, faltered, unsure how to continue. Clones didn't have emotions. Best to just ignore it, answer the previous question.
"Scared?" Berry repeated and cocked her head, as if she didn't understand. As if Kyra was suddenly speaking another language. "Why would I be scared? I felt safe." Incorrect. Clones weren't supposed to feel. "Protected."
It was Kyra's turn to blink. Her pilot never ceased to surprise her. "Oh." Her eyes went to the bundle her pilot was holding, and she sighed. "Aw, damn it, I was hoping to give it to you myself." She suddenly seemed... bashful. "Did you uh, look inside? Do you... like it?"
"I love it." Berry beamed. Incorrect. Clones weren't supposed to love.
Kyra coughed. "Good. Good. It was time you... had your own. Stopped wearing those overalls." A vague gesture at the shambles around them. At the watching eyes. "Could have prevented this... embarrassment." Not for her. For the spaceport.
Her pilot nodded seriously, and pulled the jacket on over her company-provided clothing for now, obscuring her BR-I identification. An illegal act, punishable by immediate decommissioning. The soft leather tickling her neck felt warm, like a caress. She didn't care. Extremely incorrect.
Kyra had given her a name. Kyra had given her this jacket. A clone must never hinder a naturalborn.
Berry had no intention of ever doing that where Kyra was concerned.
