Restoring Mankind

News, Nines, Issues, and Machine Genocide

She thought of logistics, and tactics, and formations. Not art or philosophy.

"What is the status of our operatives on the planet?" She asked, stepping forward to glance up at the massive holographic screen brightly shining against the far wall.

"U-um, the 17th and 4th Combat Squads have reported success in their missions, m-ma'am!" 60 squeaked. "The 17th have managed to reduce Engels-class units in the Philippine Sea to acceptable rates with minimal casualties!" Her eyes then brightened. "Oh, and the 4th Squad's Captain personally engaged with a local machine controller in the Yellow Sea!"
That was good news. "That'll soften the pressure for the Resistance in the Philippines and those operating in the Yellow Sea. Good. Asides from the 4th Squads Captain, anyone that distinguished themselves?"

210 nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. 5B from the 17th. She led a successful distraction that allowed her squad to engage the Engel's units piece by piece."

"Then give her a reward. A new sword perhaps and a promotion. If she keeps this up, she'll be able to have her own squad someday," White nodded. Good work ought to be rewarded and bad work corrected. Chastisement was only for those who needed it. Failures of the men came from the officers and a bad officer was better of dead than wasting the lives and talents of their subordinates.
All in all, good news. But that wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"And the status of Station 7?" she asked, turning towards the both of them.

At that, the mood of the two Operators turned. Standing a bit straighter now, they met White's gaze. "Station 7 is at 90% conversion, ma'm. It is ready for habitation," 210 reported, her tone stoic but yet, quivering with poorly hidden emotion.

Finally.

"Colonel Smith will be pleased, then." She sighed in relief. The good Colonel cared for his people, and her and the androids despite them not really needing any supervision or care. They were not infants after all. But...it felt nice. To have a human look and care for them. And the way Smith just made her feel....

"What...what were they like?" 60 found herself asking, wonder in her eyes.

For a moment, a crack appeared on White's persona. "Wonderful. Just...everything that we all have dreamed of," White admitted, her voice filled with reverance and awe. She sighed in bliss, glancing at her hand. "Their leader, Colonel Smith. He touched my hand." White whispered, her voice less a commander now and a more akin to a devotee visiting a shrine to their god.

"Woah," 60 gasped in awe, her eyes wide. At her side, 210 cleared her throat. "Commander, if I may...were there any human children?"

White tilted her head. "I do not seem to recall. While there were multiple pods, I didn't see any pods containing human young. Why do you ask?"

"....For data interests," 210 said simply, after a long and pregnant pause.

Right. White shook her head. "There will be plenty of time for either of you...or all of you, to meet them." White said, glancing over her shoulder to see her Operators stealing glances, discreetly or otherwise, at them.

They looked away. White continued. "But first, we must ensure that the humans below get to Station 7 securely and safely. Once that is happen, I will petition high command to allow us visiting rights to the station considering how close we are, as well as be the station's security."

Around Earth's orbit was many great space stations that acted both as factories for the Army of Humanity and as to function a important strategic role. Her bunker was among one of them. Great in its use and function but there were others that were greater. Station 7 occupied an area in orbit just a flight away.