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Story from June, yes I'm catching up slowly lol. Part 4 of 5 of the series. Almost done! See, Agent Telaroth actually does work, he doesn't just turn up and be horny~
In this story, I make some radios, my colleague joins the effort and Krutonium helps to free someone.
Part I: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/61041055/
Part II: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/61638448/
Part III: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/62088353/
As usual, the story is pasted below, but there is a pdf viewer now!
[DC-05/N] Agent Telaroth
Imperial Intelligence Service
While I thought the drudgery would cause the time to drag, the fact that I was sneaking around and committing various acts of mischief and petty theft to help with the cause actually made things move rather quickly. The arms we were making were building up slowly, but it became apparent after a while that unless we managed to coordinate with free units in other sites, our operation wouldn’t survive past a wave or two of the regime’s security forces.
We had to make a few UHF radios with bits that are lying around, since the Synths’ own integrated transmitters would instantly give us away. However, that brought to light a new issue – how do we send these to other cells? Slipping away within the facility was fairly easy, but actually escaping and breaking back in after is another matter. That, of course, meant that there was no way to get this information out to the others, let alone distribute the radios.
While heads were banged against this organisational issue, I couldn’t help but notice one of the guards snooping around a bit too much. I noted him poking around the bunks unprompted, looking around the various beds. More than once he would pause next to my bed and poke at me with his baton, though he would say nothing.
I had half a mind to warn my fellows about it, but before I could, I was slipped a note one evening to bring a set of makeshift radios back with me and leave them under my bed as a dead drop. There was something being said about a guard or two being sympathetic, so I went along with it.
Sure enough, that same guard came knocking with a small satchel in tow. He poked at the others around me, before quietly taking the radios from under my bed and wandering off with nigh a word.
Krutonium did remark that it was convenient that the guard would turn to our side at just the right time.
I woke to find that he left me a scrap of paper with one of the I.I.S. authentication phrases on it. That was Agent DC-03 apparently. I ate the bit of paper, of course. Can’t be leaving evidence lying around like that.
Yes, very convenient.
Krutonium didn’t find it as funny as I did, but it is what it is. Besides, he was the one complaining that we didn’t help enough. Now we’re helping more and he still wants to complain.
Either way, the same guard would come and go, with the radios being passed on over time. The comms were checked and we managed to contact several other cells around the planet, some in better shape than others. Most had weapons of some sort, be it simple melee fare made from tools or full-on assault weapons like we had. While efforts were made to smuggle some small handguns around, it was high risk and even my colleague who was posing as the guard had reservations about it. He managed to get a few out, but mentioned that the Etarans were getting suspicious, with stricter checks coming into force for staff and they were starting to snoop around the bunks. He’d had a few close shaves already and we had to stop the weapon smuggling so that he wouldn’t be found out.
In reality, he would probably just pick another guard to be his host, letting his current identity vanish, but having too many guards disappear would be suspicious too. Besides, he had to behave on-brand, as I was doing while posing as Krutonium.
Besides, he wasn’t wrong about the heightened security, it was getting harder and harder to sneak around with more night time patrols. The guards’ batons were replaced with rifles as time went past and it became increasingly apparent that we were running out of time to act. However, there weren’t enough numbers. We’d have to free more Synths, but disabling the inhibitor chips would need us to get close to the individual and tinker for a few minutes, which wasn’t really possible with guards wall-to-wall.
That was when Krutonium, who had been surprisingly quiet at the back of my mind piped up and asked me to give him control while I was once again helping to assemble weapons. Since he hadn’t had much to do, I had given him some of my processing power to use to amuse himself. At first he just watched pornography, which was…distracting, but it kept him busy. However, I began to notice over time that he was playing with the reverse-engineered schematics of the inhibitor chip that I had gotten from the one on my neck. He was now presenting me with a sort of emp grenade that would cause a power surge within the chips within a decently large radius that would permanently break them. The Synths had circuits that were hardened to a way higher standard and wouldn’t be harmed.
Seeing this as our possible big break, I brought it to our leader, the same blue and grey Synth who I had come to know as Yural. Needless to say, he liked the idea and with Krutonium working the tools, we assembled a test unit.
I helped to add a few things – a little knob that we could use to set the radius of the pulse and some extra bits and bobs to make the unit reuseable up to three, maybe five times before the circuits would burn themselves out – they’re still Alliance designed crap at the end of the day.
That being said, while the real Krutonium was making up the device, it was my turn to sit back and watch pornography, leaving him with a tent in his pants more than once, sometimes deliberately in front of his fellows. He complained, of course, but hey, it’s not my fault that I have better self-control than he does. He did ask if I had anything better to do, to which the answer was yes, but this was funnier.
The main problem was testing the unit, actually. It’s all well and good to free everyone, but having a big group wake up suddenly would be chaos and would surely cause us to all get shot. We ended up having to cause a gas leak in the welding section of the factory which caused the maintenance technicians and the guards to go and investigate. Meanwhile, we picked the nearest Synth off his bed in the bunk, carried him to the toilet and placed him on a bedsheet on the floor for testing. Not a very elegant solution, but better than nothing, I suppose. With not much else to lose, I put the device next to him and hit the button.
The little metal box that we had encased the whole thing in made fizzing noises and beeped, indicating that the job had been done. As that happened, the three of us peered over down at the comatose robot…which did nothing.
I couldn’t help but frown slightly as the other two snout-clawed, saying that the fizzing was probably one of the capacitors popping and that we’re going to have to haul our test subject back again now. But hey, at least we tried, right?
As we all squatted down and reached over to pick our test subject up, his visor flickered back to life as he sat up abruptly, nearly headbutting me as we stumbled out of the way. This one, painted grey and green rubbed his snout, shaking his head as his green eyes darted around, “Wha-? I have control again?”
“Oh shit, it worked…?” I remarked as Yural helped our newest recruit up, “I guess this means-“
“This means we can go with the plan, yes,” Yural replied with a grin, “Great work, I’ll brief our new friend, the rest of you had better return to your bunks.”
We nodded along as we quickly dispersed, with me taking the little box as I left. Yural brought our new friend into the same broom cupboard where he had spoken to me to do his work.
The next few days passed at a furious pace as we made more of the units, disguising some as comms units for our contact to bring to the other sites. It was painstakingly slow work, but if we jumped the gun, so to speak, we wouldn’t have the numbers needed.
In between all this, I was slipped notes here and there as other Agents turned up and began their work, sowing disruption and confusion in the Etarans’ ranks, blinding them to the build up of material and the increasingly obvious building insurgency in their midst. Mysterious crates would turn up now and then, full of weapons. While some of the other Synths were quick to point out that we might be trading one sort of drudgery for another, Yural was adamant that any help was good help. Besides, a few others spoke up in favour of things, considering that we, the Drakonians will give them equal rights to everyone else.
Besides, nothing came from the Alliance, so there was realistically no other option. Makes sense, I suppose, since we were still being made to build weapons for them. I had noticed that the volume was dropping, but what remained was still a considerable amount.
Eventually, of course, with the various other resistance cells calling in ready one by one, the day came when Yural finally gave the word and we all got ready. It just so happened to be one of the monthly days where they fed us the really crappy sandwiches, so it was decided that we would start at lunchtime, where most of the synths would be in one place anyway. While the guards had swept the area for any funny business prior to us filing in, DC-03, who was still posing as a guard used that as an opportunity to plant the inhibitor disabling devices around the room, more than enough to free everyone inside. The timers were then set as appropriate for a big lunch.
Of course, Synths were also used to dole out the food, if you dared to even call it food, so it was a small matter to hide weapons in the trolleys, which the guards had neglected to check.
Once the ‘food’ was served, we all began to eat as usual. I got about halfway through my sandwich before the devices triggered. With several collective ‘thunks’ and ‘thuds’, the vast majority of the room fell unconscious, while the rest of us lunged for the trolleys.
The guards, knowing that something was off, went for their weapons, only to have my fellow agent pick them off one by one as he broke cover, shouting at us to hurry up as weapons were tossed around and I helped to pick the rest of the guards off before they could raise the alarm.
In the background, the other Synths were gradually waking up, looking around slightly bewildedly as we started handing out weapons. Yural ended up standing on the table and addressing everyone, telling them that it’s time to break free and take up arms, eliciting a ragged cheer from our number and several others. While I had half expected some to baulk at the idea of fighting, I saw no such things.
Weapons were brought in from a few more stashes we had around the room as the alarm went off and the doors locked. With no time to spare, tables were flipped over and more weapons handed out as we heard more armed guards rushing over towards the various doorways. The one remaining guard whose face DC-03 was wearing took up position with one of the groups, getting a few suspicious stares before they realised that he was on our side.
It didn’t take long for the doors to fly open, smacking a lunch cart out of the way, sending its contents flying. While I poked my head over to pop a few rounds off, I ended up having a piece of cheese plop onto my visor, with a few of the others snickering as I ducked behind cover to peel it off while they covered me. There was nothing else to do with the cheese, so I ate it.
Smoke grenades were thrown and there was the usual chaos, shouted slurs and whatnot as we made battle, pushing the admittedly well-armed guards back as their numbers dwindled, with us flooding down the various doorways towards the loading dock. We also broke into the security office and handed out more weapons as our numbers swelled with more freed units.
The radios were awash with shouting from the various cells as they did the same, fightin their ways through various facilities as they made beelines towards the various carparks and landing pads, taking whatever transport that people could find to link up so that we could head to the capital, where the military was most definitely already massing for a counterattack.
We moved quick, with the Synth’s superior physical abilities shining through as we bulldozed through checkpoints and the like, picking off forces before they could call in for help…that is until the fighters showed up and started mowing people down.
Small arms don’t do much against space-grade shielding and even mounted guns take a while to wear them down. We ended up having to garrison buildings and hunker down, picking at the advancing mechanised infantry and their air support as we held our ground, with a few others left in the various facilities to destroy all the equipment that was oh so important to them.
There were instances where industrial lasers and the like were used successfully against the advancing military, but we were in no way gaining ground. Instead, we were losing it. However, within the next hour, another set of Etaran fighters arrived and I assumed that they would start firing on us too, but instead, they engaged the others as we rallied and pressed on, with some of my fellows who had jetpacks taking over the various vehicles and even some fighters if they had the skill.
Seems like the intel was a bit off – they did use slaves in their military installations too, obviously. Not sure how the equipment got to them, but DC-03 was doubtlessly part of that…
It was pretty bloody, with troops being thrown at us and some even using civilians as living shields, but it didn’t take long for some to throw their weapons down and others turned round and joined us as we stormed the city, going after their seat of government as our actions were mirrored planetwide.
Eventually, we did fight our way to parliament, leaving most of the city surprisingly intact as the soldiers baulked at our swelling ranks. Some civilians even handed us food and the like, showing cracks in the whole rhetoric as we moved in.
Faced with the odds, their government tried one of those heroic last stands, but faced with the sheer number of us and the speed of the campaign, they were overrun in a matter of hours. The entire affair had lasted maybe two days, since most Synths don’t need to sleep and the charging pads embedded in the roads here for shuttles and cars helped keep our power topped up.
While the seat of power was taken and most of the defences taken offline, there were still plenty of pockets of resistance, even after the surrender. Yural eventually agreed to discuss terms with the incumbents and the Drakonians were asked to mediate the talks and keep the peace in the meantime.
Of course, a great number of us wanted to go home, me included, but my exfiltration was already arranged with DC-03 in the form of a shuttle on the outskirts of the city. Efforts were made to send people home, but it fell on the new provisional government to make those arrangements. Yural thanked me for my effort and said that he would remember me before shaking my hand and off I went.
DC-03, still posing as the guard waved at me as I approached the cloaked shuttle and with the chaos still barely settled, we flew off back to space, jumping out of the system the moment we were out of sensor range…
In this story, I make some radios, my colleague joins the effort and Krutonium helps to free someone.
Part I: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/61041055/
Part II: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/61638448/
Part III: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/62088353/
As usual, the story is pasted below, but there is a pdf viewer now!
[DC-05/N] Agent Telaroth
Imperial Intelligence Service
While I thought the drudgery would cause the time to drag, the fact that I was sneaking around and committing various acts of mischief and petty theft to help with the cause actually made things move rather quickly. The arms we were making were building up slowly, but it became apparent after a while that unless we managed to coordinate with free units in other sites, our operation wouldn’t survive past a wave or two of the regime’s security forces.
We had to make a few UHF radios with bits that are lying around, since the Synths’ own integrated transmitters would instantly give us away. However, that brought to light a new issue – how do we send these to other cells? Slipping away within the facility was fairly easy, but actually escaping and breaking back in after is another matter. That, of course, meant that there was no way to get this information out to the others, let alone distribute the radios.
While heads were banged against this organisational issue, I couldn’t help but notice one of the guards snooping around a bit too much. I noted him poking around the bunks unprompted, looking around the various beds. More than once he would pause next to my bed and poke at me with his baton, though he would say nothing.
I had half a mind to warn my fellows about it, but before I could, I was slipped a note one evening to bring a set of makeshift radios back with me and leave them under my bed as a dead drop. There was something being said about a guard or two being sympathetic, so I went along with it.
Sure enough, that same guard came knocking with a small satchel in tow. He poked at the others around me, before quietly taking the radios from under my bed and wandering off with nigh a word.
Krutonium did remark that it was convenient that the guard would turn to our side at just the right time.
I woke to find that he left me a scrap of paper with one of the I.I.S. authentication phrases on it. That was Agent DC-03 apparently. I ate the bit of paper, of course. Can’t be leaving evidence lying around like that.
Yes, very convenient.
Krutonium didn’t find it as funny as I did, but it is what it is. Besides, he was the one complaining that we didn’t help enough. Now we’re helping more and he still wants to complain.
Either way, the same guard would come and go, with the radios being passed on over time. The comms were checked and we managed to contact several other cells around the planet, some in better shape than others. Most had weapons of some sort, be it simple melee fare made from tools or full-on assault weapons like we had. While efforts were made to smuggle some small handguns around, it was high risk and even my colleague who was posing as the guard had reservations about it. He managed to get a few out, but mentioned that the Etarans were getting suspicious, with stricter checks coming into force for staff and they were starting to snoop around the bunks. He’d had a few close shaves already and we had to stop the weapon smuggling so that he wouldn’t be found out.
In reality, he would probably just pick another guard to be his host, letting his current identity vanish, but having too many guards disappear would be suspicious too. Besides, he had to behave on-brand, as I was doing while posing as Krutonium.
Besides, he wasn’t wrong about the heightened security, it was getting harder and harder to sneak around with more night time patrols. The guards’ batons were replaced with rifles as time went past and it became increasingly apparent that we were running out of time to act. However, there weren’t enough numbers. We’d have to free more Synths, but disabling the inhibitor chips would need us to get close to the individual and tinker for a few minutes, which wasn’t really possible with guards wall-to-wall.
That was when Krutonium, who had been surprisingly quiet at the back of my mind piped up and asked me to give him control while I was once again helping to assemble weapons. Since he hadn’t had much to do, I had given him some of my processing power to use to amuse himself. At first he just watched pornography, which was…distracting, but it kept him busy. However, I began to notice over time that he was playing with the reverse-engineered schematics of the inhibitor chip that I had gotten from the one on my neck. He was now presenting me with a sort of emp grenade that would cause a power surge within the chips within a decently large radius that would permanently break them. The Synths had circuits that were hardened to a way higher standard and wouldn’t be harmed.
Seeing this as our possible big break, I brought it to our leader, the same blue and grey Synth who I had come to know as Yural. Needless to say, he liked the idea and with Krutonium working the tools, we assembled a test unit.
I helped to add a few things – a little knob that we could use to set the radius of the pulse and some extra bits and bobs to make the unit reuseable up to three, maybe five times before the circuits would burn themselves out – they’re still Alliance designed crap at the end of the day.
That being said, while the real Krutonium was making up the device, it was my turn to sit back and watch pornography, leaving him with a tent in his pants more than once, sometimes deliberately in front of his fellows. He complained, of course, but hey, it’s not my fault that I have better self-control than he does. He did ask if I had anything better to do, to which the answer was yes, but this was funnier.
The main problem was testing the unit, actually. It’s all well and good to free everyone, but having a big group wake up suddenly would be chaos and would surely cause us to all get shot. We ended up having to cause a gas leak in the welding section of the factory which caused the maintenance technicians and the guards to go and investigate. Meanwhile, we picked the nearest Synth off his bed in the bunk, carried him to the toilet and placed him on a bedsheet on the floor for testing. Not a very elegant solution, but better than nothing, I suppose. With not much else to lose, I put the device next to him and hit the button.
The little metal box that we had encased the whole thing in made fizzing noises and beeped, indicating that the job had been done. As that happened, the three of us peered over down at the comatose robot…which did nothing.
I couldn’t help but frown slightly as the other two snout-clawed, saying that the fizzing was probably one of the capacitors popping and that we’re going to have to haul our test subject back again now. But hey, at least we tried, right?
As we all squatted down and reached over to pick our test subject up, his visor flickered back to life as he sat up abruptly, nearly headbutting me as we stumbled out of the way. This one, painted grey and green rubbed his snout, shaking his head as his green eyes darted around, “Wha-? I have control again?”
“Oh shit, it worked…?” I remarked as Yural helped our newest recruit up, “I guess this means-“
“This means we can go with the plan, yes,” Yural replied with a grin, “Great work, I’ll brief our new friend, the rest of you had better return to your bunks.”
We nodded along as we quickly dispersed, with me taking the little box as I left. Yural brought our new friend into the same broom cupboard where he had spoken to me to do his work.
The next few days passed at a furious pace as we made more of the units, disguising some as comms units for our contact to bring to the other sites. It was painstakingly slow work, but if we jumped the gun, so to speak, we wouldn’t have the numbers needed.
In between all this, I was slipped notes here and there as other Agents turned up and began their work, sowing disruption and confusion in the Etarans’ ranks, blinding them to the build up of material and the increasingly obvious building insurgency in their midst. Mysterious crates would turn up now and then, full of weapons. While some of the other Synths were quick to point out that we might be trading one sort of drudgery for another, Yural was adamant that any help was good help. Besides, a few others spoke up in favour of things, considering that we, the Drakonians will give them equal rights to everyone else.
Besides, nothing came from the Alliance, so there was realistically no other option. Makes sense, I suppose, since we were still being made to build weapons for them. I had noticed that the volume was dropping, but what remained was still a considerable amount.
Eventually, of course, with the various other resistance cells calling in ready one by one, the day came when Yural finally gave the word and we all got ready. It just so happened to be one of the monthly days where they fed us the really crappy sandwiches, so it was decided that we would start at lunchtime, where most of the synths would be in one place anyway. While the guards had swept the area for any funny business prior to us filing in, DC-03, who was still posing as a guard used that as an opportunity to plant the inhibitor disabling devices around the room, more than enough to free everyone inside. The timers were then set as appropriate for a big lunch.
Of course, Synths were also used to dole out the food, if you dared to even call it food, so it was a small matter to hide weapons in the trolleys, which the guards had neglected to check.
Once the ‘food’ was served, we all began to eat as usual. I got about halfway through my sandwich before the devices triggered. With several collective ‘thunks’ and ‘thuds’, the vast majority of the room fell unconscious, while the rest of us lunged for the trolleys.
The guards, knowing that something was off, went for their weapons, only to have my fellow agent pick them off one by one as he broke cover, shouting at us to hurry up as weapons were tossed around and I helped to pick the rest of the guards off before they could raise the alarm.
In the background, the other Synths were gradually waking up, looking around slightly bewildedly as we started handing out weapons. Yural ended up standing on the table and addressing everyone, telling them that it’s time to break free and take up arms, eliciting a ragged cheer from our number and several others. While I had half expected some to baulk at the idea of fighting, I saw no such things.
Weapons were brought in from a few more stashes we had around the room as the alarm went off and the doors locked. With no time to spare, tables were flipped over and more weapons handed out as we heard more armed guards rushing over towards the various doorways. The one remaining guard whose face DC-03 was wearing took up position with one of the groups, getting a few suspicious stares before they realised that he was on our side.
It didn’t take long for the doors to fly open, smacking a lunch cart out of the way, sending its contents flying. While I poked my head over to pop a few rounds off, I ended up having a piece of cheese plop onto my visor, with a few of the others snickering as I ducked behind cover to peel it off while they covered me. There was nothing else to do with the cheese, so I ate it.
Smoke grenades were thrown and there was the usual chaos, shouted slurs and whatnot as we made battle, pushing the admittedly well-armed guards back as their numbers dwindled, with us flooding down the various doorways towards the loading dock. We also broke into the security office and handed out more weapons as our numbers swelled with more freed units.
The radios were awash with shouting from the various cells as they did the same, fightin their ways through various facilities as they made beelines towards the various carparks and landing pads, taking whatever transport that people could find to link up so that we could head to the capital, where the military was most definitely already massing for a counterattack.
We moved quick, with the Synth’s superior physical abilities shining through as we bulldozed through checkpoints and the like, picking off forces before they could call in for help…that is until the fighters showed up and started mowing people down.
Small arms don’t do much against space-grade shielding and even mounted guns take a while to wear them down. We ended up having to garrison buildings and hunker down, picking at the advancing mechanised infantry and their air support as we held our ground, with a few others left in the various facilities to destroy all the equipment that was oh so important to them.
There were instances where industrial lasers and the like were used successfully against the advancing military, but we were in no way gaining ground. Instead, we were losing it. However, within the next hour, another set of Etaran fighters arrived and I assumed that they would start firing on us too, but instead, they engaged the others as we rallied and pressed on, with some of my fellows who had jetpacks taking over the various vehicles and even some fighters if they had the skill.
Seems like the intel was a bit off – they did use slaves in their military installations too, obviously. Not sure how the equipment got to them, but DC-03 was doubtlessly part of that…
It was pretty bloody, with troops being thrown at us and some even using civilians as living shields, but it didn’t take long for some to throw their weapons down and others turned round and joined us as we stormed the city, going after their seat of government as our actions were mirrored planetwide.
Eventually, we did fight our way to parliament, leaving most of the city surprisingly intact as the soldiers baulked at our swelling ranks. Some civilians even handed us food and the like, showing cracks in the whole rhetoric as we moved in.
Faced with the odds, their government tried one of those heroic last stands, but faced with the sheer number of us and the speed of the campaign, they were overrun in a matter of hours. The entire affair had lasted maybe two days, since most Synths don’t need to sleep and the charging pads embedded in the roads here for shuttles and cars helped keep our power topped up.
While the seat of power was taken and most of the defences taken offline, there were still plenty of pockets of resistance, even after the surrender. Yural eventually agreed to discuss terms with the incumbents and the Drakonians were asked to mediate the talks and keep the peace in the meantime.
Of course, a great number of us wanted to go home, me included, but my exfiltration was already arranged with DC-03 in the form of a shuttle on the outskirts of the city. Efforts were made to send people home, but it fell on the new provisional government to make those arrangements. Yural thanked me for my effort and said that he would remember me before shaking my hand and off I went.
DC-03, still posing as the guard waved at me as I approached the cloaked shuttle and with the chaos still barely settled, we flew off back to space, jumping out of the system the moment we were out of sensor range…
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