Murder Drones Stories/Oneshots

Punk and Punctual (J/Uzi)

Silentseeker074 requested this, and I took it despite my previous claim of taking no requests at the moment. However, Silentseeker074 was one of my first readers and the most persistent reader so far, so I made an exception.

Anyways, this takes place after episode 8, but as if N and Uzi are only good friends. Enjoy!!!
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Snow and ice mush cascaded down on J. These flakes were not the fluffy white that would melt and evaporate when touching her, but cold slush that stuck to her clothes and uncomfortably wet her skin before evaporating. And even a small moment of discomfort was more than the professional drone was used to tolerating.

Perhaps she was spoiled or something to that effect. Yet J still saw it as valuing cleanliness and professionalism rather than simple pettiness.

Another luxury didn't have: deluding herself. Even through it all, J told herself JcJenson was still around. That Tessa was still there. But she knew deep down she was lying to herself. She knew Cyn had become the truth she built her own mirage around.

Now, what was there to do?

Cyn had called for backup right before her defeat, a new matter bank called into building J and sending her back to hell in a landing pod. A hell with flames of ice she had to now call home: Copper-9.

Perhaps... perhaps there was a certain little equity partnership she could revisit. And she meant little when she said it. A certain goth drone around the height of 4'5½".

While the offer had previously ended in green photon lasers smoking her to ashes, it was plausible that the answer would differ now that J was unallied. An allegiance would prove to be mutually beneficial, and J loved a good business partnership.

So here she was, at the doors that had shut her out for years, knocking and hoping to be let in like a stray dog. J had surely sunk to her lowest, at the bottom of the company hierarchy.

Though she needed to quit thinking like that. There was no company. Therefore, she could not be at the bottom of any ladder. Except for the food chain, to which she was clearly at the top of.

The doors opened slightly with a hydrolic hiss. "Oh," the Worker Drone at the door said after seeing her. His eyes drifted over her for a moment and she felt oddly uneasy.

Come on, J! Think of it like an interview. You are pretty, perfect, and punctual. You've got this! Think happy thoughts: bonus pay and met quotas! Increase in quarterly profits!

"Hello," J greeted with a polite curtsy. She waited for the other drone behind the door to make a move. It was always best to wait for a reaction before guiding the conversation where she wanted it to go.

The drone scratched his head thoughtfully. "You aren't V or N," he observed obviously.

J gave a polite smile, bowing her head so he wouldn't see her eye twitch impatiently. "No, sir. My designation is J, Serial Designation J."

Now he looked at her suspiciously, as if a memory were washing over him. And perhaps it was, as he next stated: "You. I remember you. You were here once before." He narrowed his eyes at J.

That dug in for some reason, like a heel in J's chest. A pain she was usually on the giving end if rather than the recoeving end.

J's contorted her mouth into a hard line of resolve. "It won't happen again," a promise she wanted to keep for some odd reason.

Her head had felt different later... lighter, somehow. Maybe it was part of Cyn being gone. Like, now that she was in control of her own decisions, the feeling of another's wishes no longer pushed her down like gravity.