Men and Machines

"My great great great grandfather was alive during the Cold War."

"Really?"

"Yes. He was a general in the Red Army.

"And how did he feel about that?"

"That the Cold War was the greatest waste of time he'd ever experienced. That at times, he found himself yearning for the days of the Great Patriotic War."

"Uh-huh."

"And then he reminded himself that these were shameful thoughts. That he and the world should count themselves lucky that the Cold War never became…exciting, shall we say?"

"And hot."

"Yes. That too."

And uneasy silence returned to Katya Volskaya of Volskaya Industries, and Captain Mifune of the People's Liberation Army of China. As they looked over the assembly line, their words struggled to be heard above the dim. Of blood, sweat, and steel.

But no tears.

Katya had seen to that. Every one of the workers knew what was at stake. Knew that Russia was living through a period that would demand sacrifices as great as those of the Great Patriotic War. Sacrifices to be made in a conflict that was the greatest threat to humanity since the Cold War of that same century. She looked at Mifune, looking over the assembly line as well – the relationship between Russia and China had been ill-defined for decades. But now, as the omnics ravaged the world, they were undoubtedly allies. They shared borders, they shared interests, and while both of their governments boasted of their ability to take the omnics head on, they were unofficially sharing forces and intelligence as well.

"Svyatogor," Mifune murmured. "That's taken from one of your legends, yes?"

Katya nodded, looking as the mech Mifune referred to was raised on the gangway. Svyatogor unit K-25. In one hour's time it would be fully operational. A few hours after that it would be transported by a quartet of helicopters to reinforce the Moscow Line. The omnics moved with a hive-mind mentality, but they still understood how their masters operated. Knew that humans lived in cities, and that by taking out cities, their chances of victory were increased. Especially when those cities were of a country's capital.

And Katya dared wonder whether their understanding ran even further. No human had ever taken Moscow. Napoleon Bonaparte had failed. Adolf Hitler had failed. Otto Retneya had failed. Perhaps the omnics wondered if they could succeed where their masters had always come up short. They, at least, would not be bothered by the winter weather.

"I notice that the Svyatogor doesn't include any long-range armaments," Mifune said.

"It's part of the control scheme," Katya said. They began walking towards her office. "One pilot, one body, one mind. The human body doesn't have projectiles after all."

"Bodies and minds. Is that your mantra?"

"It is Russia's mantra. And the Svyatogor is our reminder." She opened her office door and let Mifune walk in before she followed. "A reminder that we control our machines. And not the other way round."

Mifune walked to the coffee machine – a luxury, in this day and age. "Some speculate that the omnics don't want us enslaved, but dead."

"Is there a difference?"

"To some." He made a second cup and offered it to Katya. "But we both know how the world works. Liberty. Justice. Freedom at any price." He took a sip. "When was the last time you saw a government mention humanity's existence as a stake in this war?"

Katya took her seat. "So far? None. No-one wants to admit that extinction is a possibility. Or that the war's got that bad."

Mifune took his own seat and took a sip. "Russia is holding ground. That, at least, makes yours the most successful country in the world right now."

Katya smiled – it was a transparent compliment, intended at flattery rather than coming from genuine admiration. But she would take it.

"Which brings me to the question at hand," Mifune said. He put the cup on the desk, the cup itself half empty (not half-full – things hadn't been "half full" in a long time). "The fact that Russia is having successes. And that my country…isn't."

And so the game really begins. "That can't be easy to admit," Katya smiled.

"It's my admittance, not my government's. The official line is that China stands alone. The unofficial line is that we need help. And by the request of certain channels-"

"You want the Svyatogor." Katya lay her cards on the table. There was no point at deception at this point. "You want access to Russian technology that happens to be the most advanced form of robotics on the planet bar the omnics themselves. You want us to give you access to what I say without exaggeration is the one advantage we have over the omnics. Might against numbers."

"A leader of the Soviet Union once said that quantity had a quality of its own."

"A different time in a different war," Katya said. "But I'm not Joseph Stalin. I'd rather kill omnics than my own countrymen."

"As would I," Mifune said. "Which is why I'm compelled to ask what your response is. And whether there is a price to be named for access to your men of iron."

Katya frowned, and put her coffee cup down on the desk. Fully empty. Getting up, she looked out of her office window. Snow swirled in the air outside and coated the window sill – even in a world suffering the effects of climate change, Russian winters remained as harsh as ever. The climate was killing nearly as many men as the omnics. For the first time in Russia's history, winter was their enemy.

"I understand if you need time to consider my request," Mifune began.

Katya bit her lip. "You understand that even if I wanted to give you access to Svyatogor technology, I'd need the blessing of my government."

"I do. But what about your personal feelings? What about whether you want to give away this technology?"

Katya bit her lip – she didn't know. Her immediate reaction was to say "yes, take it, we're fighting for the survival of the human race." But her secondary reaction was far more cautious. Humanity had nearly killed itself half a dozen times, and countries like Russia, China, and the United States had usually had their finger on the trigger, even if they'd refrained from pulling it. Even if the world survived the Omnic Crisis, what would happen afterwards? What would the world look like? Operate? Who would emerge as the next superpower?

"The APU Corps," Katya murmured. "How are they doing?" She was biding for time, and she reflected Mifune knew it. "Aren't you a commander in that outfit?"

"Not good, and yes."

Still honest. "Zero-One," Katya said. "That's where they were first deployed, right?"

She glanced at Mifune and saw him wince. And she couldn't blame him. Zero-One had been the first omnic outpost, and to date, none had taken it. The armies of the world had tried, utilizing everything from tanks, to Armoured Personnel Units – exo-suits designed for human pilots that could match the firepower of an entire infantry platoon. None of it had saved them from the omnic counter-attack. And even as countries like China continued to field them, it was like throwing pebbles into a river, hoping to dam it.

"The APU's have their uses," Mifune said. "But they're not enough. Sentinels out-perform them in manoeuvrability, Bastion units outmatch them in firepower."

And the Svyatogor outmatches all of them. "Interesting design, the APU," Katya murmured, still avoiding the question. And Mifune's gaze for that matter. "The way it leaves the pilot in the centre. Exposed, almost."

"A reminder," Mifune said. "A reminder to the world that it is Man that controls machines. Not the other way round."

Like the Svyatogor. She turned away from the window and faced him. And he looked back. Captain Mifune, PLA. A good, honest man. One who might very well die in the near future if fortunes didn't improve. A shame, all things considered.

"I'll talk to my government," Katya said. "That's the only promise I can make right now."

Mifune's eyes shone less bright, but otherwise, his gaze remained impassive. She herself had promised nothing. They both knew it. She hadn't even given her blessings to the idea.

"Thank you," Mifune said. "I shall relay your intentions to the Home Party."

"Do so," Katya said. She walked over and opened the door. "Good tidings, Captain."

He walked out without uttering a word. Even if he did, it might have been lost in the din that came flooding into her office. The sounds of a world at war. At a species fighting for survival. Building machines to destroy other machines, intent on destroying their masters.

And the door closed. And Katya knew there was only one certainty right now.

She needed a drink.

A/N

Concerning the APUs in the Matrix universe, there's two theories about them that I both like. One, that they're effectively a less technologically advanced version of the mechs seen in The Second Renaissance, the design stemming from Zion's lack of resources/technological regression/idea that within Zion, manauverability isn't as important as on an open battlefield. The second is the APU design itself, how it leaves the pilot exposed. The idea is that this is meant to be symbolic - a symbol to the machines that in this case, it is a human controlling a machine, not the other way round such as in the Matrix itself. I don't think it's necessarily true, but hey, I like the idea.

So, having come across a similar idea with the Svyatogor design in Overwatch, decided to drabble this up.