>>40495952
[2/3]

Johnston says, “Uh, well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to get some robocops out on the streets.” Walsh, Caldwell, and Puller give him the meanest nastiest looks you have ever seen. Not even pedophiles or robot diddlers get those kinds of looks. “Er… I’m just saying. We could use the manpower.”

Puller slaps you on the arm. “Jesus, Aaron, the fuck are you teachin’ your rookie?”

“Nothing you haven’t taught me, Jim.” You go back to eating your dinner. Steak with some broccoli and a nice bit of mashed potatoes. The little restaurant is one of those throwbacks to the 21st century, complete with luxuries dressed up as waitresses, carpet floors, wooden walls, and even a non-smoking section of all things.

And speaking of waitresses, one of the luxuries comes up to your table. “Would you like a check?” she asks. Puller nods, and swipes the check out of the luxury’s hand. She immediately turns around and leaves for the kitchen. You had to take note that he and Caldwell were giving her behind quite the staredown.

“I’m telling y’all now,” says Puller as he looks back at you all. “First they replace janitors, construction folks, and then the teachers, the waiters, the drivers, and the pencil pushers. Goddamn admins can’t tell themselves to stop this shit.” He slaps his credits down on the table. You all grab your coats and start standing up. Better get on patrol now. “Fucking hell, if we’re replaced by some bucket of bolts programmed with the goddamn Three Laws, how the hell is society gonna work?”

Walsh rolls her eyes, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Bullshit.” She looks over at Johnston, who places down a few credits besides Puller’s own money. “What are ya doing?”

“Leaving a tip,” says Johnston.

[2/3]

>>40495974
[3/3]

“You don’t leave robots tips, Johnston.” Caldwell brushes the credits back towards Johnston. “Don’t waste your money.”

“Well- I mean. Come on, they could some extra cash.” Johnston looks over at you. You know that look. The look that says he’s begging for your old husky veteran support.

To be perfectly frank, you wouldn’t tip a robot waiting on you either.

Puller nudges you on the arm, pulling on his helmet. “Come on, Uncle Streucker, say something. Kid’s embarrassing ya.”

> “The boy can waste his money as he likes.”
> “Johnston, put your money away, don’t waste the cash.”
> Other

>>40496003
> “Johnston, put your money away, don’t waste the cash.”

>>40496003
> “I wouldn't do it, but if he wants to leave him to be"

>>40496206
>>40496191
Forgot to add, that I'm changing. sue me
I figure this is better because it at least drives the point home.

>>40495952
Got link to previous thread?

>>40496003
>> “The boy can waste his money as he likes.”
Are they even sentient?

>>40496254
I made a mistake with the OP and forgot to change the date as well. For reference, this is two weeks after the first thread.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/39936935/

>>40496258
Luxury robots are built to be as human as possible, complete with synthetic skin, near human eyes (the distinct glow to them gives it away), and even adaptive emotion modulators. Other robots don't have that kind of attention, but still develop their own little quirks and personalities over time.

>>40496284
That doesn't answer the question, though. Are they self-aware?

>>40496258

Tipping a robot doesn't mean anything really, but if it makes the kid feel better I say let him do it.

>>40496341
To a certain extent, yes. They know they're robots but they do project emotions genuinely.

>>40496380
Time to marry one.

>>40496380
What happened to our bot? Did it get decomisioned already?

>>40496482
Top is last in line to be replaced with the new series Drone. He hasn't been handling the long wait too well and is mostly sits on stand by until needed.

>>40496482

Would a police officer marry a hooker? Last thread it was made pretty clear that sexbots exist but that no one with self respect actually fucks them, or at least they don't advertise it

File: Movie_poster_i_robot.jpg (29 KB, 256x350)

29 KB JPG

SOON™

> “The boy can waste his money as he likes.”

You shrug. “Hey, I don’t give cash to clankers, Puller. If the boy wants to though, he can.” You look over at Johnston, who shakily scoots his money back into the center of the table. “See?”

Puller places his hand on his belt, grimacing. “Christ, Aaron, didn’t think you were raising up an RP.” Robophiles, worst people you have to deal with sometimes. He walks over and pats Johnston on the back. “I declare, don’t come cryin’ to us when those clamps she calls teeth turns you into a eunuch.” Johnston nods, duly noted. You start for the door.

You take a quick look back to see the waitress collect the money. You can see her grin happily when she sees the extra cash laid out for her. Even if it is a robot, at least someone’s smiling today.

You enter out into the biting cold. Stiff frost is already dropping out of the sky. Goddamn global cooling projects. Messed up the climate and then some. You pop up the collars on your jacket, then reach into your pocket for a cigarette. It’s going to be a long, long, cold night. Much as you like night shift duty, you don’t like it when it’s cold. Puller and Caldwell are already moving onto their car. “Good luck, y’all,” shouts Puller as they step in.

Walsh comes over, helping you light your cigarette, ah mercy. “Headin’ to the game tonight?”

You shake your head. “Nah, didn’t get the post.” In the twenty-odd years you have been a cop, you have not once been able to get that cushy and fine day policing a ball game. Shame really, it’s a home game too. You sigh, puff of smoke leaving your mouth. “You?”

She shrugs. “Racers, speeders, DUIs, usual business I assume.” She looks over at Johnston as he steps out of the restaurant. “Hey, Johnny.” Johnston comes over to her. “Be careful. Gramps here might have a heart attack or something.” You shove her off to her bike. “Ah! Fuck you too…”

[1/2]

>>40496859
[2/2]

And finally, you step into the comforting warmth of your squad car. “Top. Anything?”

|| Nothing, Officer Streucker. ||

Top hasn’t been so talkative since the new drones were being introduced. You assume he’s been having trouble trying to steel himself for the inevitability of his decommissioning. Two weeks ago he was talking big game about finally meeting his end and yet now, he just seems so… defeated you suppose. Johnston sighs, then looks over at you. You look back at him. You pull out your packet of cigarettes. “Want one?”

He sighs, taking one. You light it up for him. “Going on my third week.”

“Congratulations,” you say. “Most rookies I see never really get that far. And if they do, they’re never the same.”

“Yeah.” He takes a drag, hissing a little. You noticed that he still carries that .45 on his belt. He hasn’t really gotten over that night, always avoiding the topic when you bring it up, always hesitating around kids. Nights like those never breed a good officer. “So, we got anything good going on tonight?”

“Bar close unfortunately,” you say. “And in this weather, we’re gonna freeze. So my advice to you, boy, stock up on some heatpacks. They’re pretty cheap at the store.”

“Right,” he says. “So just drunkards and stuff like that?”

You nod. “Yep.”

Johnston stares at you. “… aren’t you forgetting something?” You blink, tilting your head. Forgetting something? Today’s Friday, it’s about a half hour to 7, it’s fucking cold and snowing, Top won’t be his usual uppity self. Nothing to forget-

Wait. You are forgetting something.

You knock your head on the wheel.

> “I’ll remember it later.”
> “Please remind me, Harry.”
> “Forget about it, let’s just get to work.”
> Other

>>40496878
> “Please remind me, Harry.”

>>40496878
>> “Please remind me, Harry.”
Uncles don't lie

>>40496924

Seconding

>>40496878
>“Please remind me, Harry.”

Good to have you back OP

>>40496878
> “Please remind me, Harry.”

> “Please remind me, Harry.”

You turn your head to him, squinting. “It would be very nice if you could remind me, Harry.”

Johnston crosses his arms. “I’ll give ya a hint. It has to do with a trumpet.” Trumpet? Trumpet? You take your cigarette from your lips, motioning it around to help you think. Trumpet, trumpet. What has to do with a- Wait. Why are you even doing this!?

“Come on, Harry, gimme more than that!” you shout.

Johnston just stares at you. But the next thing he says hits you like the morning freight. “Did you really forget your daughter has a concert tonight with her school band?” Oh. Oh fuck. Oh wow. That’s… “It’s at 8 O’Clock. You said you’d try to be there.”

“Oh my fucking Christ.” You shake your head, leaning back in your seat. “How the hell did I forget about that? Goddamn it.” You slam your hand on the wheel. “Well I-“

“I’m not gonna force ya,” he says. “It’s your daughter, not mine. Just, you know. I would at least try to make some kind of effort, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says. “I mean, at least she’s not at some party with gangbangers or god forbid any of those techie fucks that want to recruit her for ‘modeling’.” You have had enough of that out of the school district.

“Yeah,” says Johnston. You start up the engine, and start pulling into the street. Thank God for heated glass and adaptive UI, otherwise you’d never be able to see a thing in these increasingly dark streets. “So are we going?”

> Yeah, we might as well try and get it out of the way.
> Too much dead time, we’ll do a bit of patrolling first.
> I’ll go, you can patrol for me and pick me up later.
> Other

>>40497226

Let's get it out of the way, the drunks will have to wait.

Let's have Top monitor the channels while we're in there though

>>40497226
>> Yeah, we might as well try and get it out of the way.

>>40497226
> Yeah, we might as well try and get it out of the way.

>>40497226
> Yeah, we might as well try and get it out of the way.

>>40497226
>Yeah, we might as well try and get it out of the way.

Sorry, had to get something out of the way, writing now.

> Yeah, we might as well try and get it out of the way.

You nod, turning right on the intersection. “We might as well. Bar close during the winter? Not like any idiots will spill their fights outside where it’s fucking freezing.” You shudder to think of having to arrest someone in the cold. Not only will they fight, but they’ll have to fight while spewing snowflakes and ice at you.

Oh God, the thought of having to arrest someone on ice. That sends even more chills down your spine. Thankfully, Johnston is there to bring you back to Earth. “So, your daughter. Good at playing the trumpet?”

You nod. “Yeah, you ever meet her?” He shakes his head. “Good.” He furrows his brow. “Just saying.”

“I’m not gonna try and date your daughter, Aaron,” he says quickly. “I know your limits.”

“Good, good.” Honestly, Johnston is a pretty good kid. If Dina wanted to date him, you wouldn’t stop her. You wouldn’t encourage it but you wouldn’t stop her. She knows what it’s like having a cop for a beau. She’s learned from you and Anneliese. Of course, you’re never going to tell either person that.

Some lessons are learned on their own after all.

…

…

“Oh, Officer Streucker!” Some of the parents milling around the school lobby greet you with surprise. You check the time. 7:30. You had to make a quick traffic stop on your way here, thankfully the guy was pretty cooperative even if he was blind drunk. One of them, a very dowdy broad with messy red hair greets you. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no,” you say. “Why would you ask that?” you ask as you and your partner stand there, armed with zappers and a .45, with your bulletproof duty vests, your duty belt loaded with a baton and cuffs and everything else, and with a Drone outside equipped to taze and arrest.

She curls her lips. “Just… it’s seems an awkward time.”

[1/2]

>>40498598
[2/2]

You hold up your hand. “My daughter’s here.” You motion Johnston to follow you down the hall and to the left. The hallways of the school are pretty dark and dreary on a good day and at night, it’s not much better. Worse in fact. And yet still, the kids try to make it up with decorations, posters of school spirit, of the baseball team sweeping their series in the tri-sector area. The lengths people will go to try and make happy things out of bad situations is just admirable.

You walk past the auditorium. “Um. Aaron. The auditorium’s back there. Where are we going?”

“Their practice room,” you state. Johnston walks alongside you, looking just the slightest bit nervous. He’s not used to hanging around with kids it seems. Understandable. There you see a door, with a glazed over window. The orchestra room. You open it up, and are immediately assaulted by the cacophony of practicing brass instruments and the high school students behind them.

Parents like you though, you’ve got steel ear drums. The practicing stops however when they see you. They all look at you with surprise, some elements of fear. You see Dina in the back, cleaning her trumpet. She does not look very happy. More embarrassed actually.

…

Okay, you might have made a mistake somewhere.

“Uncle Streucker!” One of the saxophone players, a girl you remember being a gangbanger’s little bit of hole actually, runs over and hugs you. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you! What are you doing here!?”

It’s really saying something when a slut for a gang is happy to see you but your own daughter isn’t.

> “Was just checking on my daughter.”
> “Um, just checking on you all.”
> “Nothing, was just… we’ll be going now.”
> Other

> “Was just checking on my daughter.”
> “Nothing, was just… we’ll be going now.”

"Was just checking on my daughter but i can see that i may of embarrassed her ... I'll see myself out" walk out with head held low in shame

Ad a former cop myself it's totally true the hookers, and many petty crooks act very chummy sometimes one you have had a few run ins like we are old friends. Never got use to it.

I rode 3rd shift in the worst part of town for 3 years. Long enough to know the job and short enough to not be trapped into the pension brainwashing. It wasn't worth $23 bucks an hour I can tell you that.

>>40498616
> “Um, just checking on you all.”
> “Nothing, was just… we’ll be going now.”

>>40498616
> “Was just checking on my daughter.”

>>40498616
>> “Um, just checking on you all.”

> “Was just checking on my daughter.”
> “Nothing, was just… we’ll be going now.”

“Oh I was just uh…” You scratch the back of your head. “Was checking in on my daughter, seeing if she was ready to play out.” Dina rolls her eyes, frowning. “You doin’ okay, honey?”

She nods. “Yeah, Daddy.” She smiles at you, a little forced but you can tell she still means it. “Thanks for checking.”

“Right, well. We’ll just be going then.” You shove a surprised Johnston out of the room, then grab the doorknob. “Good luck, knock ‘em dead, y’all.” You pat the girl on the head. “As for you, Halley, I don’t wanna see ya on the streets, ahright?”

She nods quickly. “Oh, definitely not tonight.”

You shut the door behind you, back in the hall. Johnston looks at you bemusedly. “The fuck ya looking at?”

He shrugs. “Hey, I’d be a little disappointed if some broad I arrested a week ago was more happy to see me.”

“Look, me and mine are doing fine, alright?” You could not lie harder than you are right now. You and Gabe are at best good friends, while you and Dina are just… strained to say the least. You really wish things could be better but the job comes first after all. The job comes first. “I don’t shit in your soup and call it beef, Harry.” You check the time. “Come on, let’s find our seats.” He nods, and you lead him on into the auditorium. The place is already packed full with parents and family, and that was about it. You remember when you were a kid and the teachers would come to see the kids play as well.

Now, the TEACH units, well most of them, were on stand by. So the auditorium wasn’t as packed as it should be. Regardless, one of them descends from the ceiling, silencing the crowd. :\\ Good evening and welcome to PS 222-131 Intermediate School. We welcome you to a performance of the PS 222-131 Band and Orchestra, for the charity of education for the destitute and to honor their struggle. :// Nicotine rises in the air as you all wait patiently for the kids to come out.

[1/3]

>>40499901
[2/3]

… is it rude to clap for your own kid now? You stop clapping, crossing your arms. Johnston sits there, a little uncomfortably.

Dina steps on the stage, dressed out in her finest black dress. Anneliese must have picked it out. She holds her gleaming shining trumpet up as the curtain rises to reveal the rest of the band.

And she began playing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gz8dQeEbFlo

…

…

You sit in your car, repeating the performance over and over again in your head. You’re letting Johnston drive for now, partly to give him some time on the wheel, partly because you can’t get the lovely sound of her trumpet out of your head. You and Johnston left after her solo unfortunately. You couldn’t stay for the entire night after all. But hell, it was worth it just to hear your daughter play. Gabe and Anneliese would be proud.

“Your daughter plays wonderfully,” says Johnston.

“Thanks,” you say.

Pops ring out. Oh shit. “Shots fired! Shots fired! Available units Code 3 to Hammer and Terrace Drive!” Dispatch screeches out to you.

“Step on it!” you shout. Johnston hits the gas, and you speed down the street. “Top, take overwatch.”

|| Acknowledged. || He pops out of the trunk and speeds off into the sky.

You pick up the radio. “U433 responding, Code 3!”

…

…

>>40499936
[3/3]

Johnston brings the car to a halt, lighting the area with the sirens. You and him step out, zappers drawn. “Get the shotgun!” you shout. He immediately runs to the back of the car while you head out and assess.

And in the darkness, you almost trip over a body laying on the sidewalk. Christ. You kneel down and press your fingers on his neck. Nothing. Dead as a doornail. “Streucker!” Johnston tosses the shotgun to you, and you quickly withdraw your zapper. People are already poking their heads out of their windows. “What do we have?”

“Late teens, brown complexion,” you say. “Call for a coroner.” He nods, reaching for his radio. Folks are shouting, crying out, wondering what’s going on.

Except for one. “No!” She runs over, dressed only in her pajamas. “No!” You quickly get between her and the body, blocking her. “No! Let me go! That’s my boy! That’s my boy! Lemme go!” You gently show her the curb, letting her sit down. “That’s my boy!”

“Ma’am, just stay here, okay?” you say. “I’m sorry, but we gotta clear the area for detectives.” Another car pulls up. Merrill, thankfully out of the hospital. “Merrill! Get some tape around here!” He nods, staking out the holotape and deploying his new Top unit.

Alright, alright, assess, assess.

> Comfort the mother.
> Start clearing the area for a crime scene.
> Search the area, killer might not be too far.
> Other

>>40499954
> Search the area, killer might not be too far.
Tell the rookie to handle the mom. We've got the shotgun after all

>>40499954
> Search the area, killer might not be too far.

>>40499954
>> Search the area, killer might not be too far.

>>40499954
>Search the area, killer might not be too far.

> Search the area, killer might not be too far.

You motion Johnston over. “Take care of the mother.” He nods. “More units will be around to help ya, I’ll take Merrill.” He nods again, placing his zapper into its holster. You run over to Merrill as he finishes cordoning off the area. “Merrill, come on.” You pat him on the back.

“Alright, lead the way, Streucker!” he shouts. You and him jump over the cordon and head on down the road. “Overwatch, in pursuit of suspect.” He looks around. “Did any of you see where he went!?” he yells.

One of the civilians yells. “I saw a guy run down that way!” She points down the street northbound. You and Merrill quickly turn on your heels and start running on through the street.

“Northbound!” yells Merrill. You gotta be careful holding this shotgun. Wait. You pump the action, checking the chamber. Loaded. Okay. You keep on sprinting through the snow. “Stay in your houses!” he shouts as people come out of their doors to see what’s going on.

Dispatch calls: “Additional units responding to homicide call. Code 3.”

You and Merrill stop up at the corner to find a brown jacket, discarded in the snow. “Dispatch, we got a jacket here, I think C-9 might wanna look at it.” You look around. “See anything?”

“Do I look like a dog?” he asks. You look around the snow. One good thing about snowy weather over the summer was tracks. You point downwards to see some pretty fresh ones, breaking up the snow and ice, heading eastbound. “Alright, lead on.” You start jogging down the street. “Fucking kids…”

Merrill must still be a little sore from the last time you saw him.

The tracks lead onto one of the rattier houses. “There,” you say. “Come on.” You and Merrill push onto the house, then quickly stack up on either side of the door. You knock on the door, from the side. “Sector Police! Open up now!” Nothing. A police drone flies down next to you, ready to assist. He scans the area. “Anything?”

[1/2]

>>40501133
[2/2]

|| Lethal weaponry detected, pistol. Two lifeforms detected. ||

You knock on the door again. “This is the police, open up now or we will break the door down!” You motion Merrill to head around the other side. Still no response.

Right, forget this. The drone zaps the door lock off, then rams it down for you. You muscle your way in. “Police!” Dark room, living room, cluttered to shit, couch stained with beer and alcohol. “We know you’re in here! I got another Officer around the back and we got more coming, so give it up!” you scream. You hold your shotgun out. You move on through the cramped hall to what looks to be the bedroom. You smash the door in.

You find a ratty looking girl screaming her head off when you come in. “What the fuck!? Who are you!?” You get a good look at her eyes. Oh yeah, those are drugs. “What are you doing in my home!? Who the fuck are you!?” Merrill steps inside, as does another Officer.

“Get down!” says Merrill. “We got our perp!” He holds up a scanner, showing a lifeform hiding under the bed. “He’s under the bed with the gun!”

“Slide the gun out!” you yell. The girl lies on the bed, motionless, stark terror in her eyes. “We said slide the gun out, and come out all peaceful like!”

…

A pistol slides out beneath the bed. “Alright, show us your hands.” His hands come out, spread wide around the pistol. Merrill comes around and cuffs him quickly. “That’s a good boy.”

…

…

“You got him?” asks Johnston.

You, Merrill, and the third Officer come around to the paddywagon. “We got him,” you say. You look at Johnston’s shoulder, finding it tearstained. “How’s the mother?”

He shrugs. “Inconsolable. I don’t know what to say to her. I mean, her boy didn’t do nothing. Why’d that guy kill him?”

“That’s for the Detectives,” you say. You sigh, scratching your chin. Poor kid. On a schoolnight too.

> Stick around, make sure the area gets cleaned up.
> Return to your beat.
> Break open a ration pack, a break is in order.
> Other

>>40501154
>> Return to your beat.
Our job's done here

>>40501154
>Return to your beat.

> Return to your beat.

You pat Merrill on the shoulder, surprising him as he writes the report. “Me and Harry are gonna hit our beat. You good here?”

“Y- Yeah,” he says quickly. “I’m okay.” Merrill hasn’t been quite the same chipper and energetic kid ever since he got shot. “Go on, I can handle this.”

“Alright. If you need us, just call.”

“Yeah.” He sighs deeply, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. You move on back to your car, and step back into the heavy warmth of it. Top has already withdrawn back into the trunk, and Johnston was already inside warming himself up to a ration pack and some jazzy tunes.

“Back to patrol?” he asks.

“Yep, no rest for the wicked,” you state. Johnston stares ahead, a bit dazed. “Still on about that woman?” He nods a little. “Listen, people die for stupid reasons, okay? So what if you don’t know what to say? Maybe that kid and the other one had some dispute about cards or a girl. Don’t try and think too hard about it, otherwise it just eats at you.”

“Alright,” he says. “You know, I didn’t think there’d be so much crime. Violent crime here.”

“This ain’t a Capitol Sector.” You can’t help but feel there was a little venom to that. “You don’t see no technos here, moseying about, really taking in the fact that they can’t make social policy for shit. This is what happens when you try to change the world, and you do it, but you don’t have a plan for the new one.” You’re not going to speak much else of it. The fact that it somehow works even though employment is in the gutter and everyone is taking to the streets says something about it. Maybe it’s the Devil’s luck.

You could use some of that luck.

…

…

You pull up to an armless servile robot, then lower your window. You’re down in northern part of your beat, usually where the drug dealers and the parts rustlers roam. This guy must’ve fell victim to it. “Alright. Where are your arms?”

[1/2]

>>40502214
[2/2]

You nod. “Okay.” You write it down on the holopad. This’ll be a Tech problem, not yours. “Stay safe then.” He nods, waiting patiently for the repair drones to arrive.

“We’re not going to help him?” asks Johnston.

“Not our problem, unless you have a degree in engineering,” you say. His silence says everything. “Look, robots are expendable, alright? Top, maybe not, but we can always get new ones. Corporations pump them out in the thousands.”

“I suppose.” He sighs, crossing his arms. Hm, he seems sore about something.

“You still sore about the others giving you shit for tipping that luxury?”

“What, no!” He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you. “What gave ya that impression?”

You shrug. “Just… you know.”

“I don’t-“ He sighs. “I don’t have sex with robots. I just think that…” Oh God, Johnston, don’t turn into an RLF activist. You’ve had enough of those people last year. “Maybe we’re not treating them right.”

“It ain’t my business to question why we treat ‘em like we do,” you state firmly. “And it ain’t yours either. We’re cops, not philosophers.” He grits his teeth, leaning on his car door. “When did you get so snippy.”

“I don’t know.” He groans, rubbing his face. “I just wonder why things are so screwed up here.”

“Don’t wonder, do something about it,” you idly say. He nods at that. Your car shakes a little. What the fuck? “Top. You getting that?”

|| Excessive bass reverberations. In violation of noise ordinance. ||

“Track it.” You start following Top’s instructions, all the way up to an apartment block. Must be some damn kids. You pull up at the curb. “Dispatch, responding to noise ordinance violation.” You and Johnston move up to the door, and already you see bright lights blasting out of the windows. Bit of a walk though.

“Say, Aaron.” You look over at him. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Can it wait?” you say.

“Well…”

> “Fine, say it.”
> “You hesitated. It can wait.”
> “Save it for later.”
> Other

>>40502232
>> “Fine, say it.”

>>40502232
> “Fine, say it.”

>>40502232
>> “Fine, say it.”

> “Fine, say it.”

“Just say it, you might as well.” You jiggle the door. Locked.

He shrugs. “Earlier, that conversation about robots replacing cops.” You squint, looking at him. “I mean, come on. It’s inevitable. Government’s gotta have the robots doing the dirty work, it’ll get rid of the real crooked guys too, maybe even really do some good.” Oh. This again. You place your hands on your belt, looking to him with a stern expression. “Come on, you’d understand, right?”

“Harry. Which would you rather trust your life to. A man or a robot?” Johnston blinks, caught off-guard by that statement. “Sure, I’ll abide robocops coming in, replacing us but… I won’t sleep easier at night. I and I’m sure other boys around the precinct like having jobs. And I’m sure people round these parts like having cops that grow up here, and be their little watchmen. We can’t just replace that.”

He’s quiet, stunned for a second. “I… I mean, really?”

“Yeah. If we want good cops, robots aren’t it. Issue of the government putting robots to work everywhere where humans used to, that’s a different story. But I will not have robots replacing real hard-working people. It’s not right.” You don’t mean to rant or preach or nothing. It just came natural. Honestly, the audacity of replacing police officers with cold unfeeling robots makes your skin crawl. You knock on the door. The music suddenly cuts out.

Behind the door peeks out a teenage boy. “Uh… can we help you, officer?”

You nod. “Yeah, you’re playing your music too loud. Keep it down.” You take a sniff. No alcohol in the air, no drugs either. Good, this place is as clean as a whistle. “You’re not drinking, are ya?” Just to make sure.

He shakes his head, looking at you two fearfully. “N- no. No, no beer here. We’re clean.”

“Good.” You both turn around and start heading for your cars. “Listen, Johnston. Point I’m trying to make to you is that there are jobs that robots can’t do, even if they’re designed for it. Okay?”

[1/2]

>>40503655
[2/2]

He nods at that, adjusting his gloves a little, then breathing firmly into them for warmth. “Yeah. Yeah.” You both move to step into your car.

And once you’re basking in its warm glow, you sigh, leaning back.

“Slow night tonight,” says Johnston. Yep, only one shooting, a couple of domestic calls being handled by other officers, and just a noise violation. It is for once, slow. You drive along, leaning on the car door. You pass by a couple of luxuries standing on the street, nothing to really be concerned about, but you do call into dispatch for it.

It’s already 12:30 AM, somehow.

…

…

“In my experience,” you say. “Crime tends to slow down when things get colder. Lot of criminals move inside, trying to get warm instead of going out when its freezing.” You bite down on a donut, saved from the girls who gave you some.

“Yeah, I can see that,” says Johnston, taking a drag of his cigarette. You sit on a corner, just for a quick break.

Suddenly, a car speeds past you. You’re about to hit the gear shift into 1st when it suddenly slams into a lightpole and right into a building. You and Johnston throw out the food and the coffee and quickly speed on over to it. And with a quick dismount, you check the driver, who is beating out his airbag. “Are you alright!?” you shout.

He nods. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He actually looks surprisingly well, except for the fact that he’s drunk as shit. “How are you?”

You tilt your head. “Sir, you were just in an accident, do you need a doc?”

“I ain’t in an accident.” You blink. Johnston stares at him, confused. “I’m just sitting for a friend.”

“… sir, we just watched you crash into that pole,” you say. You motion over to the now useless and broken lightpole.

“I didn’t crash into no pole,” he reiterates. Yeah, he’s drunk.

> Call up an ambulance. You’ll give him the benefit of a doubt, a concussion most likely.
> “You’re drunk as fuck.”
> “You crashed into that lightpole, our dashcam saw it.”
> Other

>>40503679
>> “You crashed into that lightpole, our dashcam saw it.”

>>40503721

This.

>>40503679
>Call up an ambulance. You’ll give him the benefit of a doubt, a concussion most likely.

>>40503679
>> Other
Mind describing how you're feeling now? You look a bit sick.

>>40503679
"Its okay sir, that unicorn can't hurt you anymore. Now tell me what happened and we'll get this giant candy cane all patched up."

> “You crashed into that lightpole, our dashcam saw it.”

“Buddy. Our dashcam saw it. Ya crashed into that damn lightpole.”

He stares at you, with the same bloodshot drunken stare most alcoholics give you when you pull them over. “Um.” He peeks his head out of the window, grimacing a bit, then looks back at you. “Am I going to be in trouble?” You nod. “Can I not be in trouble?”

You tune into your radio. “Dispatch. 11-82. Drunk driver, need a tow for wrecked vehicle.” You place your hand on the car roof. “Listen, hoss. Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna put you in cuffs, then we’re gonna drive ya down to the drunk tank.” He shakes his head, groaning and resting his head in his hand. “And we’re gonna write ya up for the DUI and the wrecked lightpole.”

“Officer, don’t ya need to breath test me first?” he says with a heavy slur.

“I don’t need to. Come on.” You open his door, and he stumbles out and falls flat onto the sidewalk. Johnston comes over and grabs his arm. You grab the other and soon he’s on his feet and being walked to your car. “Easy does it, hoss.” You place him down on the hood and put him in cuffs. “Dispatch. Subject in custody, returning to precinct.”

…

…

“Streucker.” Captain Regina Colston greets you at the desk when you bring in the drunk driver. “Good to see ya.”

“Ma’am.” You hand him off to the jailor. “Drunk tank, let him sleep it off for tonight. I’ll have Top cite out the ticket for ya later.” He nods, motioning the delirious driver down the hallway and to the cells.

Johnston nods to Captain Colston. “It’s good to see you, Captain. Um, are the uh…” Colston tilts her head, giving a sharp glare at Johnston. “Hm, are the rumors true? About us being replaced?”

[1/3]

>>40504895
[2/3]

You grunt. “I wouldn’t say that so loudly.” You nod over to the Secretary bot managing the computers. She looks up at you all, then grins happily.

“Right…” She places her hands on her hips. “Well, get back out there, alright?” You and Johnston nod, moving to the door. “Show some fucking hustle. Come on.” You walk slower to the door, surprising Johnston. “Fucking baby.”

And back into the cold. You light up another cigarette, grumbling. “You know,” says Johnston. “You and Captain Colston seem to have quite the report with each other.” You give him the same glare Colston did. “Just saying. Um, were you two ever…”

“Once, when we were younger.” You step back into your car. “Actually, not once, a couple of times, before I met my wife. We separated on mutual terms. She wanted to advance, I wanted to stay a beat cop. Look where we are now.”

He nods. “Do you ever… consider it?”

“Consider what?”

…

He shrugs. “It’s just-“ He waves it off. “Nevermind.” To be completely fair, if she were game for it you’d go for it. But she hasn’t been game ever since she hit Lieutenant. Something about reaching those coveted bars really changes people. And as lovely and attractive Captain Colston is even when pushing her 40s, you shudder to imagine what a date right now would be like.

You’d probably sooner throw yourself in a cell with Longdong Silver than do that.

…

…

More of the usual patrolling. You check the time. 3 AM. Three more hours to go before the shift’s up. You and Johnston smoke the cigarettes away, ashes already sprinkling the seats, nicotine staining the roof. Anyone out at this time is probably up to something. You can feel it. You turn your head out the window and slow up to see a girl, standing on a corner underneath a thick jacket. She doesn’t see you coming from her side without the lights. “Hey,” you say. She yelps, turning to you. “Ain’t it a bit late for you to be standing here?”

[2/3]

>>40504917
[3/3]

She bites her lips, dark bags under her eyes, pierced lip, some serious stresslines creasing her face. You sniff a little bit. Johnston leans over to the car’s computer, covertly messaging Top.

|| I am detecting narcotics on her person: Red Dust. || Ah, the Martian stuff. You stop the car, then step out.

“Listen, I’m gonna need you to-“ She quickly turns around and starts running. Or try to run. Johnston steps out of the car, and you him start casually walking behind her as she tries to trudge through the snow in nothing but her boots, thigh-highs, a high skirt, and that thick coat of hers. She slips on a patch of ice and hits the ground. You and him catch up in a few seconds and stand over her. “Come on, missy, I ain’t here to hurt ya.” You grab her by the wrists, then Johnston cuffs her. She sniffles, sobbing into the snow. “Hey, don’t cry. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

“I got drugs... They’re in my pocket, I wasn’t selling, I swear.” She cries. Johnston hesitantly reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a baggie of Red Dust. Yep, few grams of it, could be worth a few hundred bucks.

Still, this girl looks like she needs to be in school, not on a corner selling herself. “Come on. It’s freezing out here.” You move on over to your car with her, and let her sit in the back. She shivers, sobbing quietly as you and Johnston stand over her.

You sigh, scratching your chin. Possession, you can get her on possession. Prostitution as well, suspected at least. But it always hurts to arrest these kinds of people. The ones that get dragged into it because of a mistake. Always a mistake doing drugs. “Can I have a cigarette?” Johnston places a cigarette in her lips, then lights it up for her. She sniffles, trying to take a shaky drag off of it.

[3/4]

>>40504933
[4/4]

And poor Johnston, he looks absolutely crushed having to deal with a girl like this. Prison ain’t gonna do her much good either. And it is the first time you’ve dealt with her before surprisingly. A lot doesn’t escape your notice out here. “What’s your name?” you ask.

“Jenna,” she mutters. “Jenna Quinn.”

“Jenna, we’re gonna put you in for possession, alright. Ever been arrested before?” She nods. “What for?”

“Prostitution,” she mutters again. Well, ain’t that a thing.

Johnston asks, “How old are ya?” She looks up at him, biting her lip.

“Old enough…” She mutters, looking back at the ground. Johnston steps back, floored, covering his mouth and trying to figure out how to backpedal. Great, great, great. You step in.

“Listen, Jenna. Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

> “We’re taking you back to the precinct and then process ya.”
> “We’ll let ya off for now, but I catch you again, it’s the slammo.”
> “We’re gonna get you a meal, you look like you’re starving.”
> Other

>>40504957
>> “We’re gonna get you a meal, you look like you’re starving.”

>>40504957
>> “We’re gonna get you a meal, you look like you’re starving.”
"Don't think you'll luck out like this again though."

> “We’re gonna get you a meal, you look like you’re starving.”

…

…

“Greasy, still here?” you call.

“Yeah!” He looks in from the kitchen. “Harry, Aaron, good to see ya both. Who’s your friend?” He walks out of the kitchen, bags hanging underneath his eyes. Much less severe than Jenna’s, owing to the fact that he generally just never leaves work. Something you and him have in common.

“This is Jenna, we’re getting her a meal before we send her down,” you say. He nods, walking back into the kitchen. You, her, and Johnston take up seats at the counter. “Go on, pick whatever you’d like, it’s on me.” Jenna stares at you, dumbstruck. “Go on.” She nods, looking at the menu. You’d probably be daunted too if you had two cops escort you into a diner to have a late night meal. Johnston calls for his usual burger with fries and coffee. You call up for your usual as well.

And Jenna, well…

Greasy drops down a pretty small burger for her along with a soda and some fries. “Not gonna get more?” you ask. She shakes her head, immediately stuffing her face full of fries.

Johnston nudges you. “Ya know… isn’t this a little… informal?”

“Wouldn’t people starving to death in the cells, now would ya?” you ask. He shrugs. You are paying for this after all. You look to your right, down on Jenna as she eats. “So, how are you holding up?” She shrugs, continuing to eat. “If you don’t wanna talk, that’s fine. Detectives will be the one to get things outta ya anyway.”

She nods. “Honestly. My life really sucks right now.” Clearly. “I gamble, I fuck for money, I’m a druggie. I thought for a second I’d get out of it by giving your friend a BJ or something.” Johnston coughs, a pink to his cheeks. “Never thought you’d give me a meal.”

“Well this ain’t a ticket out,” you say. “Though, and since this ain’t your first offense, I can’t exactly let you off with just a ticket either. Still, no reason to let you starve.”

“Well, thanks, Officer.” She looks up at you. “What’s yer name?”

[1/3]

>>40505951
[2/3]

“Streucker.” You point to your badge. “Right there.” She looks over at Johnston. “That’s Johnston.”

“Nice to meet ya, Johnston.” He nods, smiling at Jenna, you smile as well. Gotta admit, moments like these are why you love being an Officer. Just being there for the people in the Sector. That’s enough for you, no matter the costs.

“So what’s your story, Jenna, if ya don’t mind me asking?” You might as well ask. She’s gotta eat after all, and you might be able to get some more food in her. She’s definitely enjoying the food by the way she gorges it down.

She clears her throat. “Well, started using around middle school. Friend of mine said Dust would really help ya get in with the cool kids ya know?” Ah, that same old story. “Then next couple of years, mom dies, Dad becomes a real fucking asshole. And now I’m on the streets. Really nothing too special.” She’s right. You’ve heard that story too many times.

“Ever think about getting help?” asks Johnston.

“From who?” she asks.

“Well from us.”

She scoffs. “Big time drug dealers tell me cops can’t be trusted, a lot of people think cops are just out to take bribes and shoot up babies.” She takes another bite, swallowing deeply. “Gotta say, you two seem different.”

“We’re not different, just smart.” You nudge her on her shoulder. “You gotta be smart too. Get out of this life. Seeing another boy or girl mess it up the way you do, breaks my heart.”

She nods, hesitating on her next bite. “Yeah. I bet it does.”

Seeing a cute girl like her, be ravaged by the horrors of crime, drugs, prostitution, and abuse. Seeing her pretty face be caved in by the hold of drugs, her full hair be cut down to size, her body be pierced by ringlets, and her legs be bitten by frost and Johns’ teeth.

It does break your heart, every time.

[2/3]

>>40505961
[3/3]

…

…

You step back into the precinct, Jenna handcuffed in tow. Another jailor is busy reading the newspaper, and you present her to him. “Put her in. Top’ll give ya the citation.” He nods, taking Jenna by the arm.

She looks up at you, smiling woundedly. “Thanks for the food, Streucker.” You nod, watching as she’s walked away into the cells. “Nice meetin’ ya.”

“Yeah.” You hook your thumbs onto your belt, biting the inside of your cheek. Johnston looks with you as she disappears behind the heavy steel doors leading into the jail.

You check the time. 5:50 AM. “Well, our shift’s almost up. Want me to drive ya home, Johnston?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I think I’ll stay here,” he says. “Um, listen, Aaron. I don’t claim to know anything about being a cop. I just… you ever think we’re doing any good, with people like them?”

You shrug. “I hope so.” You pat him on the shoulder. “I’m gonna head home then. Good work today, Harry.” He smiles with pride. “Get ready for tomorrow, this weekend’s gonna be brutal, I can tell.” He nods, heading to the break room.

And with that, you button up your coat and step outside into the cold. Sunrise ain’t for another few hours. You shake your head as you walk down the steps to the parking lot. And right then and there you walk past Captain Colston. “Streucker.” You stop, then turn right around to meet her. She wears the thick trenchcoat expected of Officers of the law. Must have come outside for a break or something. She always did like it when it was cold.

“Puts me on my toes!” You can see it now, her standing beneath the soft falling snow. “Summer, you just get lazy. Winter, hell, that’s when I get goin’.”

Now though, you can tell she doesn’t enjoy it as much as she used to. “Have a good shift?”

You nod. “Yeah, ma’am. Just heading home now.”

“Good. Good. Was about to head out too.”

…

> “Well, I’ll be going.”
> “Did you want something?”
> “How about we carpool tonight?”
> Other

>>40505985
> “How about we carpool tonight?”

>>40505985
>> “How about we carpool tonight?”

>>40505985
>“How about we carpool tonight?”

> “How about we carpool tonight?”

“How about we carpool tonight? Save some gas.” She shrugs, walking up next to you and pulling out her phone. “I’ll take that as a yes. Come on, I’ll drive.”

…

…

You and her sit in your car, waiting at a red light. If you had sped past it, she’d have thrown you out and driven off by herself. And even then, it’s not kosher to run red lights even when there are no other cars around. Why? Because you’re a cop, you only run red lights when it’s an emergency. You look over at Colston. She takes a quick puff of her cigarette, staring ahead into the darkness.

You sigh. That red hair of hers used to be so pretty. Got greys coming out over it now. You look back forward. You remember her first day on traffic watch, those tight pants of hers, the way she swayed whenever she walked. The swagger of her hips and the shape of her legs. It wasn’t fair that someone that hot would be broken down by the police and what it entailed.

Goddamn, you remember those days. Stealing away before a shift, getting one off quick and quietly. Either in a car or in the showers. Of course, it had to stop. It started when Colston had to shoot her first perp. Previously it was just for excitement, the fun of it, the electricity. Then it was just for comfort, stress relief. And then Colston got stabbed.

And then she just didn’t have it in her. This was before you met Anneliese of course.

Green light.

[2/2]

>>40506916
[2/2]

You continue driving onwards. She’s as quiet as you are. You wonder what’s thinking about. Does she ever reminisce on those golden days like you do? Or maybe she’s just more concerned about keeping the precinct working. The latter’s more likely. Probably the reason she hasn’t had a steady boyfriend in forever. Even Walsh tries, bless her heart, she tries. But Colston just doesn’t.

And for that, you really feel sorry for her. You wish you could do something.

After half an hour of driving along in silence, you finally reach her house. Nice house in the suburbs, way too big for just one person. You pull up alongside the curb and put it park. She opens her door. “Listen, Regina, I-“

“Good night.” She’s already out the door and walking back to her house before you even get a word out.

… damn. You shake your head. Really says something about you when two girls in your life that you know best want little to do with you, but two girls you have to put away love you.

Sometimes, being a cop is confusing. You groan.

You lean back in your seat, then pull up your phone. Might as well check on the game.

… The Broadsiders lost. Goddamn it. Well, maybe next time Colston will let you police the home game. You sigh, that’ll be the day.

>>40506946
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lZ2M3U_6s3U

That is it for this little continuation of To Protect and Serve. No telling when I can run again though or if I'll even be able to run again at all since I've started a new job.

However, it was nice running again. Hope to see you soon and thanks for playing.

>>40506996
Thanks for running, Badge. Good luck with shit.

>>40506996
No probs mate, I liked it, even if it slowed a bit in the end.

>>40506996
Thanks for running was nice to see you back

>>40506996
Looking through the archives before reading number 2, will keep an eye out for future ones!

>>40506996
Thanks for running. I loved this thread just as much as the last.