I swear I'm working on the EM sequel, guys. XD I've had some really bad writer's block this summer, and it doesn't help that I have to write in and introduce a female OC that is not only Engineer's wife, but also... shudder... plot-relevant. I don't think she's TOO Mary Sue, but ugh. She's not fun to write. The story's got a title now, though. Keep an eye out for Homestead!
This story is meant to kind of flesh out both the things I couldn't get to in EM, and anything that you guys wanted explained. As such, while I do have some things that I am for sure going to write in here, this will also rely heavily on you, the readers, telling me what you want to know. If there was ever anything that confused you or that you were just curious about, this is the place to let me know. There won't really be a regular schedule for this story, so I'll just update whenever I get a chapter written down.
A good chunk of this is half a year old, with probably a two-month gap somewhere in it. My style probably changed a bit in there somewhere. XD
Current orders: Kill mercenaries.
Robots thundered out of the Carrier Tank, Scoutbots and Demobots leading the pack. Spybots disappeared in clouds of smoke, and Sniperbots branched off to find good places to camp. In the rear were the Heavybots and Soldierbots, with only a few stragglers mixed in the crowd.
SL-431 didn't have the bomb, but it had chosen to stick close to the Heavybot that did. It understood that there was safety in numbers, and aiding the bomb in reaching the enemy base was the highest priority. The robots ahead could hold the mercenaries off.
Or so it thought.
In front of SL-431, robots were shot down, incinerated, or blown into so many pieces that there would be no hope of reassembling them. The charging horde was quickly becoming a growing pile of parts and scraps. 431 tried wading through it, only to trip over a Sniperbot's head and fall flat on its face. Milliseconds later, the bomb-carrying Heavybot behind it exploded, hunks of metal sent flying by the rocket that had destroyed it. Had SL-431 been standing, it would have been the one to take that rocket.
The Soldierbot quickly deduced that, if it stood up now, it would be immediately killed. It decided to wait until either another robot picked up the bomb and pressed on, or the mercenaries ran low enough on ammo that it could stand up without getting shot at. But over the three hours that the battle raged on, neither of those things happened. The humans had realized that they could loot the fallen robots for their ammunition (and sometimes their fuel), and because of this, they were easily able to fend off wave after wave of the machines. With the pile- now more like a wall- only growing larger, 431 never did get the opportunity to get back on its feet.
As the mercenaries finally walked off, laughing and gloating about their easy victory, 431 picked itself up off the ground, surprisingly followed by a few robots that had probably had similar ideas. They spared each other a few glances, then went to digging through the rubble, hoping to find something they could salvage, perhaps a robot that had gotten trapped beneath the rubble and couldn't dig itself out. There was no saving the bomb; it had been crushed under the weight of so many corpses.
Some of the robots headed back to the Carrier Tank with nothing. Some had found others in varying states of disrepair; SL-431 had a heavily-battered Scoutbot draped over its shoulders, clearly in no state to even walk. The group all made it back to the Tank without further incident.
The trip back to the Rottenburg station was an uneasy one. The robots mulled over the recent battle, some wondering if they'd actually done any good, others amazed that so many of them had been killed by only six people. 431 was surprised that any of them had gotten away at all.
Once back at the station, the robots took turns on the single Teleporter. 431 was among the first in line. The Soldierbot made its way to A-Block, flagging down a Medicbot and dropping off its burden before heading to B-Block. Once there, it found its spot within its unit and idled, prepared for whatever its next orders may be.
A few days later, SL-431 was sent out to fight again, this time at a location with an unknown name. The Soldierbot mixed in with the body of their offense, staying alive by assuring that there were plenty of robots ahead of it. Once they fell, it feigned death, pretending to have been shot. Its fight may have been short-lived, but at least it had succeeded in taking down a couple of humans and helping the bomb carrier get closer. It would live to fight another day.
The battle was short- maybe an hour and a half- but the survivors this time were far worse off. A Heavybot, missing its arms and jaw; a Soldierbot with a hefty dent on the back of its head; a Scoutbot, amazingly still functioning, its neck and collar crushed and spitting sparks.
As it turned out, there were some things even a Medigun couldn't fix. The Heavybot was given replacement arms, but they flailed uselessly whenever it tried to use them. The robot was prone to severe, spastic glitches. The Scoutbot could no longer speak, instead emitting grinding screeches and other horrid noises. And these were some of the robots that had been among the relatively unscathed.
Within two weeks, all but the Scoutbot had disappeared.
At first, the robots didn't think anything of it; it was normal for robots to be there one day but not the next, especially the damaged ones. It didn't take long, though, for some of them to realize that something more than the usual slaughtering by the mercenaries was going on. These robots decided to teach themselves to speak so they could spread the word that something was wrong. Once others realized what they were doing, their peers wanted to try speaking for themselves.
431 was a quick learner.
Several robots made surprising statements with their newfound ability. "I don' want tae go oot there," a Demobot admitted.
"The humans always come back. Is there point to killing them?" a Heavybot wondered.
"I saw da Maker once," a Scoutbot claimed. "I think he's some sort of lizard?"
All three robots were later terminated.
About a month later, 431 was sent to Rottenburg again. This time, it didn't immediately leave the Carrier Tank; instead, it followed the third wave of robots, staying just behind the bomb carrier. They, as well as at least a dozen other robots, ran towards the small town. But moments before touching down...
...the bomb carrier stopped. Just at the edge, the Pyrobot planted its feet, and the robots around it, confused, followed suit. There was no apparent reasoning for it, but the Pyrobot refused to move. The mercenaries were equally perplexed, some shouting while others shot down a few of the leading robots. Still, the Pyrobot wouldn't budge.
When an hour passed with no robots making a move, they got the order to return to the Carrier Tank. Surprisingly, the Pyrobot moved right away, and the other robots followed it back to the Tank. The second they got back to the base, the Pyrobot was recalled, supposedly due to a bug. Those that had been there knew better, especially since a few of them were taken away as well. The rest, however, were excused. After all, the robots are programmed to stay near the bomb if it is possible to do so. It may have been inconvenient here, but they had been doing exactly what they were designed to do. Supposedly.
Apparently, the Pyrobot wasn't the only one with the "bug." The same thing happened with a Soldierbot, a Demobot, a Scoutbot, a Sniperbot, and several others. Except now, they wouldn't even leave the Carrier Tank. As the rumor went, they even resisted if another robot tried to push them outside. This was more than a simple malfunction. This was rebellion.
SL-431 couldn't help but think, why? Why would the robots start behaving like this all of a sudden? So it asked around. A Medicbot didn't know. A Spybot thought it suicidal to reply. 431 couldn't even comprehend a Pyrobot's rasped groans. When it seemed that the Soldierbot wouldn't be getting a straight answer, it finally got it from SN-115.
"Haven't you been payin' any attention?" the Sniperbot demanded, its voice a low growl. "You must have noticed we all keep disappearin'. Ever wonder whoi? It's always the ones who can't or won't listen to him. The Maker. He could just as easily leave us all alone, couldn't he, but he doesn't. Instead, he kills us. Whoi wouldn't he? Whoi does he even keep us around, ever wonder that? To destroy Mann Co., sure, but wot then? Don't tell me you think he's doin' this for us. Once he has wot he wants, he's just going to kill us off. Whoi would he bother with us after that? Whoi are we even bothering with him?"
As SN-115 grew more animated, SL-431 started edging away, and the Sniperbot instead turned its attention to the walls, raising its voice. "I know you can hear me, Maker. I don't know how you're doin' it, but you're listenin'. So, wot, are you goin' to kill me now, too? Afraid I'll kill you first? Fuck you! If you're gonna shut me up, then do it already! I dare you!"
It was no surprise that the Sniperbot was gone within the hour.
Even though something clearly hadn't been right with SN-115, its words still made SL-431 think. Would they really be destroyed, once all was said and done? The Sniperbot could have just been spouting nonsense- a few robots spoke randomly, at times- but considering everything that was happening, it couldn't dismiss the idea, either. It decided to observe and see what conclusion it came to on its own.
Over the next several days, the robots' insubordination continued to spread like a base-wide glitch, and as the number of these machines grew, so did the number of those that behaved completely different. Some robots were more eager than ever to sing their Maker's praises, to throw their lives away in an increasingly fruitless battle. Considering what SL-431 had already seen and heard, it wasn't so sure that these robots were as loyal as they claimed to be.
The Soldierbot's suspicions were confirmed a day later, on the Carrier Tank to Coal Town. Not a single robot moved. At least, not for a few minutes. A Scoutbot broke from the ranks, walking to the front of the group and turning around, its back to the exit.
"How come nobody's movin'?" it asked, its voice a quiet near-monotone. "Isn't dis why we were built? To die for our Maker? He's great, isn't he? He deserves only our best. Our best. No? No one will move?" It started shaking then, its voice breaking up. "Then... Then I'll be da one. Da mos-most loyal robot of all. I will die for my Maker. Because he is just... that... great... a guy..."
The Scoutbot put its scattergun to its chin and pulled the trigger.
Not a single robot left the Tank. But even though none of them followed the Scoutbot's last desire- if that was even what it had wanted- SL-431 had gleaned a major truth from its actions. How was this any different from what any other robot was doing? Every day, hundreds of them are sent out and ultimately killed. Those that don't volunteer or mindlessly obey are killed anyway. Just the fact that this was happening was evidently enough to push a robot to do it themselves, something that their programming shouldn't allow and definitely didn't encourage. With Gray as a leader, the robots' only possible future was death.
431 determined that needed to change.
The Soldierbot started recruiting for an army of its own. It didn't do so actively; it would stop and mutter something to a robot in passing, or while waiting in a Carrier Tank, and only those that it knew for a fact didn't like working for Gray. Of course, not every robot agreed to join. They didn't all want to risk a premature death, after all. Despite that, 431 was amassing a rather impressive team in a relatively short amount of time.
The plan was as follows: Once they had gathered enough machines- a couple thousand should do- they would bide their time, act as if everything was normal. They would wait until Gray had assigned missions to a large number of robots, with two Carriers-worth being optimal. Then, the robots would scrape whatever paint they could from their chest, face, and wherever else they could reach, so as to be able to recognize each other as allies. Finally, they would charge Gray's office, which sat a couple turns away from H-Block, while he had as few robots as possible to back him up. With him gone, the robots could do as they pleased without the threat of deactivation hanging over their heads.
The opportunity arose a little over a month later. An enormous number of robots was summoned, enough for two Carriers, 431 surmised. If there would ever be a time for their more than 3000 robots to attack, then that time was now.
Robots flooded out of their Blocks, leaving not a single gap in the large shared hallway. They rushed towards Gray's office, paint chipping away as they scratched at themselves and footsteps drowned out by the sound of their cries.
SL-431 was done hiding. It was done using other robots as shields, done needlessly risking their own lives to save its own. It was the Soldierbot's turn to take the lead.
Gray's office door was in sight, the Mann surely issuing commands from inside. It should have struck 431 as suspicious that nothing was guarding the door; it wasn't even locked. But the only thing running through the Soldierbot's processor was that it and thousands of others would be free in a matter of minutes, seconds. At this point, the battle was already won.
The second the door opened, at least half a dozen other robots on the other side opened fire. 431 was just able to sidestep out of the way in time, but eight of the robots behind it collapsed, dead. Tens of others squeezed into the office, quickly wiping out the small team. Gray was nowhere to be seen.
431's eye brightened in a mix of shock and realization. Gray had already moved somewhere else. Why? Had he known they were coming, like he'd known when someone spoke badly of him? But how? He shouldn't have known. It had been so careful...
The Soldierbot turned to warn the rest of its crew, but they were busy with their own fight. At the farthest end, parts and sparks were flying, some even connecting with the ceiling, and the main body of the group was struggling to get close enough to attack their ambushers.
Anxious and confused, SL-431 squeezed past the other machines, sometimes pushing them to the side to clear a path to the growing wreckage. When it got close enough to see what was going on, it froze, both astonished and horrified.
Perhaps it wasn't a surprise to see an ocean of robots, far larger than 431's own little army, with countless machines even now bleeding into the far-overcrowded hall. No, that wasn't surprising. What was surprising was the massive Heavybot in the lead, easily four times larger than the robots that flanked it. It effortlessly carved a path through the horde, swinging its enormous fists and mowing down robots like they weren't even there. It was soon taken down by a lucky rocket to the gap between its stomach and chest plates, but that only served to reveal two others close behind, with even more farther down the hallway.
431 fell to its knees, looking on silently as Scoutbots weeded their way into their ranks, causing an uproar within the front lines of defense. They were falling fast, too fast. It was over. It was clear that Gray had won... This time. Maybe if it played dead, it could live on, try again with a bigger army...
It had already been spotted. A Scoutbot with a fedora approached, pistol at the ready, unnoticed by the surrounding robots that were occupied with their own battles.
"Maybe next time you'll be careful with who you tell your big plans to, yeah?" it cackled.
Perhaps it was a good thing that SL-431 was killed then. It didn't have to watch its army fall. It wasn't introduced to the custom order, nor to the concept of individual tasks it wouldn't know how to perform. It didn't live on in fear of who or what could be watching it, when or where it was safe, if ever. It didn't have to suffer the horrors of the repurposing facility or the Spies-gone-traitor, the horrors that it had singlehandedly unleashed.
But it had planted a seed in the surviving robots' minds. Its legend lived on, more heroic perhaps than in reality, but nevertheless a reminder that it was possible to fight back. And hopefully, one day, that would be enough.
Yep, the oh-so-amazing SL-431 that led the legendary Rebellion is actually a huge coward. a smart and calculating coward, sure, but still a coward. See it how you will.
If you have any questions, please be sure to let me know. I'll be sure to reply, and if possible, make my response into its own chapter (and probably open up more questions in the process). Whether it be PM or review, I'll work it into the story somehow.
Next time, I reveal what exactly happened to the Spybots.