Robot City

Well yesterday was a complete wash. Thanks to Darzoni it wasn't complete dead space. Still, word count has suffered and so far only at 8000 words written. Need to change that in a hurry. Quiet time is generally needed for me to write, but being a bit high strung, probably moreso than is healthy, i get jumpy... so yea. Hopefully i can make up for lost ground.

Busy morning, cars skimming along, fliers cruising along thier preordained paths, life Beth appears to move along swimmingly. Naturally this cannot be the case since that would mean no public servants, healthcare, or jobs were needed; and since all these things exist so must problems.
Slender woman, dark pants, matching jacket, watching Beth's morning rush from where she parked her bike. Nice place. She started for the building adjacent to the lot and hummed something The Trooper while she walked.
Inside the station house was the usual controlled chaos of places that seem to never sleep, have to make do with less people than they really need, and those that are there being under high stress. The woman looked around, nodding to a uniformed man at the front desk. "Alexis Murry." She passed a stack of papers across and waited.
The man, well not-quite man since the skin was a pale blue and had three fingers on each of its four hands, briefly glanced at her and muttered something almost musical and nodded at the screen he had been staring at. "You're a bit early. Second floor, hallway to the right, first door on the left. Orientation starts in a half hour."
Alexis nodded and went where she was directed. This brought her to an assembly room, rows of seats with one side of the room dedicated to a podium, several large monitors, and presumably equipment connecting these to the building's info net. Nobody else was there yet, but this is where she had been directed. So Alexis waited, pulling a phone from her jacket so she could run through her morning's online routine; mail check, bills, updating social contacts, and the like.
She was partway through explaining, on her blog, that she was waiting for orientation and how nervous she was about her recent transfer when close to a dozen people shuffled in. One of these, a dark skinned man with more white to his hair than not shot a look at her that made Alexis put her phone away.
When everyone was seated and the door closed the elderly fellow took the podium and practically leaned on it. "I'm sure all of you are aware at just how short-handed we've been, and I appreciate that all of you had voluntary transferred. However work here is different. Don't personally like we're compared to animal control, but it's close enough for beginners to get an idea." He looked tired, almost like he'd been up all night. Maybe it was just his age showing.
"Each of you has training with these," he made a gesture and one of the monitors behind him showed a metal cylinder studded with different buttons which then dissolved into the same, only with a four foot shaft of light coming from one end. "However I expect each of you to drill at least ten hours a week on proper use and care. This is your primary weapon if conventional measures fail. Your lives may depend on it and I expect everyone here to remember that."
Alexis's mind whirred and clicked as this processed. Her old department had a few energy blades and plasma rifles in storage but they were stuck with the tried and true baton/pistol/tazer load out for patrol units. She'd been through training on what to do if a robot or synth went rouge, everyone had as part of their training, but having coherent energy as standard issue? It struck her as somewhat overkill.
"-Your partner and patrol assignments are each in your lockers." She panicked, briefly, wondering what she'd missed but tried not to let it show. Bad impression to look so lost in thought you couldn't keep up with everything. So she followed everyone out guessing, correctly as it would turn out, that they'd lead her where she was supposed to be.
Her uniform was another in what as going to prove to be many changes from what she was used to. Hard dully reflective and looking more like something a sci-fi prop designer would make than a traditional set of Kevlar and armor-jell padding. Once on it was far too lose... for all of two seconds.
"Auto fit Engaged." Chipvoice coming from the suit's helmet intoned. Even though the whole thing looked like it was made of metal and or smoothed composite it flexed, constricted until it hugged her like a body-glove.
Alexis moved, slow and experimentally, and found it was very nonrestrictive. With a frown she started belting her gear on. Energy blade, flashlight, pistol, etc. "No wonder taxes've gone up," She mused, "Stuff has to cost a fortune."
Somebody else in the room snorted, "Sure, but stuff'll save your hide too often to want to skimp on." They filed out. Little banter between people, too much on too many different minds for any of them to feel comfortable.
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