Amythyst strode down the streets of Oceans End, heading straight for the docks. She moved with purpose and conviction, passing by travelers and more than one Fanatic, steering clear of the latter. On the interior, however, the Infiltration Android was a nervous wreck. What if the bartender was lying? What if the Fanatics have already taken the black market User down? She grimaced internally. I’m completely certain I’m better off with a personality, but no one ever told me how nerve-wracking having empathy or a conscience would be.

  As Amythyst got further into the city, the seedier things got, with cramped streets, shifty or unsavory Users were everywhere, and the android’s photoreceptors picked out what looked like a chem dealer hawking wares down at the end of an alleyway. Additionally, something was bothering her until Amythyst realized she was wearing little more than battered rags. I’ve got to get more… appropriate clothing. I’m sticking out like a sore thumb.

  Passing by what looked like a clothing store, Amythyst stopped and felt the handful of Domars in her pocket. She was conflicted. I need money for… whatever this sawbones can do… but containing to walk around in this crap is going to make me stand out in a bad way. Grimacing, Amythyst stepped into the store, desperately hoping there was a bargain bin.

  The clothing shop was named COLTENS VESTMENTS on a simple but well-etched metal sign. The interior was lit by flickering fluorescent bulbs, and racks of salvaged and homemade clothing lined the walls and lay folded in boxes. Amythyst walked through the store, picking out multiple articles: undergarments, a pair of work jeans, a tank top, plus a bandolier, bandanna, and road goggles. Here’s hoping I don’t break the bank… she thought as she headed for the counter and its clerk, a stocky man wearing a gas mask connected to a wheezing breathing apparatus via a long, ribbed tube.

  “How can I help you today?” he mumbled, looking up, eyes focusing on Amythyst. She dumped the clothing on the counter, and the clerk started ringing up the price on an old portable computer. Surprised they have one for such a small shop… she thought. I wonder how they got it?

  “Thirty Domars,” the clerk stated, and Amythyst winced internally. That’s a good chunk of my budget. Still, walking around in thin rags was not an option, and as such, Samantha doled out the metal chips. “Pleasure doing business,” the clerk stated, and motioned towards a row of doors. “Changing rooms are that way.”

  Amythyst walked into the room, closing and locking the door before stripping down and looking at herself. Currently, the android looked… well… human, but changing into ‘base’ form revealed a dulled, liquid metal form, with glowing purple eyes… except… something was different.

  Amythyst now not only had facial features, like a well-made mannequin, but also looked… more feminine, retaining the curved shape of her human form, including her chest and… even long, metallic hair. I… did not realize that getting a personality would change me physically… she thought, touching her cheek. However, it doesn’t seem that bad a thing.

  Quickly shifting back to disguise form, Amythyst put on the new clothes and gave herself a once-over in the cracked mirror. Not the greatest, but better than slave rags. Or being a slave. Shit, I’ve got to get a move on. Dumping the clothes in a trash can, Amythyst strapped her repeating pistol crossbow to her belt and stepped back out. Nodding to the clerk, she stepped back out, fingering the significantly smaller amount of Domars in her pocket. Here’s hoping that’s enough…

  Continuing down the docks, Amythyst dove deeper into the slums of Oceans End, reaching semi-abandoned warehouses made of crumbling ironcrete and rusted Newsteel. The sun was setting in the sky by now, and Amythyst hurried quickly towards the end of the docks, where she spotted one with a faded picture of ‘Rad-On Energy Drink,’ complete with a purple and green can. Not quite a ‘soda’, but I haven’t seen anything closer. Hurrying towards the warehouse, she avoided the heavily rusted garage door on the front and headed into the cramped alleyway between it, another warehouse, and an abandoned parking garage, its inhabitants long since looted to nothing or taken. The alleyway was cluttered with trash, spilling out of dumpsters and strewn along the ground, and Amythyst temporarily shut off her olfactory sensors to avoid the smell.

  It also didn’t escape her notice that a security camera was positioned in the corner of the short alleyway, where it could see just about everything in the alleyway. Striding past it, she noticed a newer-looking, reinforced door on the billboard-carrying warehouse. Stepping up, she raised a fist and knocked on the door. After a few minutes of waiting, she knocked again. “Hello?” she called out. “I need medical assistance!”

  After a few seconds, a slot on the door opened up, and a face covered by a welding mask peered out at her. “What do you want?” the figure stated. Amythyst cleared her throat. “My traveling companion is seriously injured and requires medical assistance.”

  The figure cocked its head. “And why not go to the Fanatics?” he asked.

  Time to feign superstition… “My traveling companion is an ah… spirit,” she stated.

  The figure paused for a moment, clearly digesting this. “You’re telling me your friend is a Shunted?” it asked with shock, before closing the hatch. After a few seconds, several bolts unlatched, and the door swung open. Amythyst stepped inside, the figure shutting and locking the door behind her. She found herself in a small foyer, a couch, a coffee table, and a salvaged potted plant making up the décor. The figure took off its gas mask, revealing then to be a young man with brown hair and hazel eyes. “I’m Daniel Schweiger,” he stated. “Sawbones and black-market tech. He looked over at Amythyst. “I’m assuming you had to leave your companion behind due to the Fanatics?”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The man grimaced at that. “Any way we can bring him back here? My best equipment is… slightly immobile.” The android sighed. “Not exactly; my car is in a parking lot on the other side of the city. Schweiger grimaced at that. “I have a first aid kit and a few Stimshots, but I’m guessing your ally is seriously injured, am I correct?” Amythyst nodded and pulled out her money pouch. “How much for the procedure?” she asked.

  The man paused for a few moments before clearing his throat. “Forty for the initial labors, sixty extra if he needs more intensive care. No haggling.” Samantha counted out the Domars. She had exactly a hundred, which meant there was a good chance she’d be broke after this. Jack’s life is worth more than money, she thought reluctantly, before handing over the coins. “Pleasure doing business,” Schweiger stated, before turning around. “Let me get my equipment, then lead me to your friend,” he stated before hurrying into the rest of the warehouse.

  Amythyst heard the man rummaging around for a few minutes before returning wearing a dark cloak and a heavy-looking satchel. “Lead the way,” he stated. Amythyst nodded before motioning for Schweiger to open the door. Unlatching everything, he pulled it open and motioned for Amythyst to exit. Schweiger closed the door, then pulled out a cobbled-together remote. Pushing one of the buttons, Amythyst heard the locks engaging. He either knows how to repair or build automatic locks, and has a wireless remote… the infiltration android thought.

  This organic is clearly a smart one and likely a creative one.

  “Follow me,” Amythyst stated, and started heading back across town. As they travelled, a thought popped into Amethyst’s head. “Why are you wearing the cloak?” she asked. Schweiger grunted. “I’m known among the Scalpels as a heretic, and they’ve got basic details of my face. That’s why I only do field jobs at night, and wear the damn cloak.” Amythyst grunted at that and continued to lead her trek across town. The android could recall the path to the parking garage perfectly, but being an infiltrator, she knew she had to keep up human appearances. And humans were always at least slightly flawed in the memory banks.

  Thus, she often paused at certain intervals, and got them lost once, making it seem like she was unfamiliar with the locale. It worried Amythyst to take so long while Jack was critically injured… but she also had to keep up appearances.

  Thus, feigning a bad understanding of the local street map.

  When they finally reached the parking garage, Amythyst pulled out the key and unlocked the side door before ushering Schweiger in. Flicking on the fluorescent bulb that was the room’s only illumination, Amythyst opened the door to see Jack still passed out and his shirt stained with blood. Pulling him out of the car, the android laid him down on the floor, while Schweiger dipped a pair of tweezers into a large jug of what Amythyst recognized as alcohol. Drying it off, he grimaced. “Got to get all this buckshot out of him before I can do anything else…” he muttered. Pulling out a needle filled with green liquid, he tapped it to remove any more air bubbles and looked up at Amythyst. “Painkillers,” he explained. “I color-code everything to avoid… accidents.”

  The infiltration android merely sighed. “Just do whatever you have to do…” she stated, hiding her nervousness perfectly, thanks to Convincing Demeanor.

  Convincing Demeanor

  Skill Type: Social

  Rank: I

  Cost: N/A

  Description: You can near-perfectly hide your emotions or fake the effects of another emotion to what you are currently feeling. Opponents with lie-detecting or emotional scanning Skills of greater rank than your Skill have a greater chance of noticing your deception. Fake it till you make it!

  Here's hoping Schweiger doesn’t have one of those Skills… Amythyst thought. Though considering it looks like he rarely sees challenges… he’s likely been grinding his capabilities non-stop to get this far. I doubt he’s above Level 6.

  Amythyst’s attention was distracted as Schweiger pulled the last pellet out, dropping it into a jar. “Now for the healing part…” he muttered, pulling out a Stimshot, the red band marking it as an ‘A’ level, the weakest and most numerous example. Popping the safety cap off, the sawbones carefully inserted the needle into Jack’s arm, pushing the plunger down. After a few seconds, Amythyst could see Jack’s wounds begin to close up, skin and flesh regrowing. Still, it wasn’t enough, and Schweiger had to use three more Stimshots to fully close the gaping wound.

  “It’s enough for now, but he still needs proper medical attention…” the sawbones stated. “I don’t even know how he made it this far… besides being a Shunted, of course.”

  “Can we get him back to your laboratory now?” Amythyst asked.

  Schweiger nodded. “Yes, but I’m going to have to use a stimulant to get him up and running.” He pulled out a tube of orange fluid that Amythyst recognized. “That’s Wideawake,” she stated in shock. “How in the name of the Director did you get your hands on that?” Schweiger grinned. “I managed to acquire a sample and reverse-engineered it. It’s not quite as pure as the pre-Fall stuff, but it should get your friend up and running in under a minute.”

  He then proceeded to shoot it straight into Jack’s veins.

  Within thirty seconds, Jack’s eyes shot open, breathing heavily. “Wha- what happened…” he stated in shock. Amythyst quickly picked him up. You got hit by a shotgun blast and were Critically Injured,” she explained. “We’re getting you back to a doctor’s office to get you back in fighting shape.” At the cost of all of our money…she thought darkly, but didn’t say that bit out loud. ‘Can you stand?”

  “I… can try…” Jack grunted, holding out a hand. Amythyst gladly took it and hauled Jack to his feet. The Shunted stood on tottering feet but managed to get stable footing. “I… think I’m going to need someone’s shoulder… to lean on…” he groaned, and Amythyst quickly gave one. AMTS-49906 never would have done this… she thought, before looking over at Schweiger. “Do you have a spare cloak?” she asked. The sawbones took off his own. “I doubt there’s a lot of Fanatics out, so I should be fine…” he stated. “Anyway, let’s get moving.”

  Amythyst unlocked the door again, leaving the Rot-Lizard to guard the car, and the trio exited back into the night.