Over the course of the next week, Elijah and the chapter would pry at the systems in the facility, the old beast slowly waking from its age long slumber. It appeared every time they opened a door, another team would need to be sent in to handle another armed defense system. Elijah hacked computer after computer. He was tiring of doing so. He reminded himself that every door he opened was another hurdle jumped towards being at the helm of this ship.
"Elijah, the control room is in the section beyond this door, but we're picking up signals of robotic defenses on the other side."
Elijah adopted a stern look, "More turrets?"
"Er, no sir, mobiles. Looks like a couple sentry bots and a roof turret. Could get messy if we stick with the usual guns blazing."
Elijah turned around, "Get out of here, I need to think."
The room emptied. Elijah loved silence almost as much as he loved being right. His mind pounded through possibilities, strategies, intricacies of robots, searching meticulously through their weaknesses, as one would filter through a filing cabinet. He knew the combat inhibitors were the aces in this deck, but one does not simply wiggle their way behind a sentry bot. Elijah played in his mind every move, every gambit he could muster, and, like most obstacles in his path, this too, needed only time.
A pulse grenade could give them the moment they would need to have a sharpshooter put a laser blast in the lens of the ceiling turret. The frenzied turret would fire at the sentry bots, who would return the fire. Now with their backs turned, they could shoot out the inhibitors on the backs of each robot. They, too, would then frenzy, and all three would attack each other. A waiting game would follow briefly, then would the victor of the chaos be gunned down by a cadre of Brotherhood knights. Elijah snapped his fingers, as if inventing the sound of a great idea. He wouldn't really even need sharpshooters, to be honest. Three shots, none of them of incredible difficulty. He left the room in a hurried pace, directly towards the room where his soldiers stood like stalwart guardians, prepared for the door's opening. Elijah grabbed a gauss rifle propped up against the frame of the massive metal door. A soldier stepped towards him.
"Sir? There's a shitfuck waiting on the other side of that door."
Elijah ignored the soldier's diction, "Give me a pulse grenade."
If crudely spoken, the man was not insubordinate, and handed Elijah the grenade without question. Elijah smiled briefly at the notion of the soldier questioning his motives, but not his request for weaponry. This was not to say Elijah found it wrong to do so. Ideas, after all, are so much more powerful than weapons. Elijah pecked away at the terminal to the door until he found himself simply a keystroke away. He found, however, than he would require help, after all.
"Veronica."
His eyes rolled as he listened to Veronica rise semi violently, most likely from a nap, as she found the Brotherhood helmets to be excellent for sleeping incognito.
"What-er, yes sir?" Elijah's eye muscles were well conditioned to the movement Veronica's usual antics forced of them.
"Come press this key when I say." It wasn't a lot of help, but it was imperative.
Veronica lazily dragged herself over to the terminal. Elijah made sure to dramatize the movements of his carefully planned strategy. Elijah took a deep breath. He activated the pulse grenade, simultaneously giving Veronica the green light. The door unsheathed the madness within it. Elijah bowled the grenade in. He didn't even have time to catch a glimpse of the room. The two sentry bots attracted most of his eye, but he fought his instinct and focused on the turret. The three machines came to life. Their revival brought a life to the room for a moment before the grenade emptied the room of it. Elijah shouldered the rifle, reveling in the strength he borrowed from the adrenaline in his veins. The first shot blasted from the rifle. The lens was gone from view. A gauss rifle was indeed overkill for the scenario, but Elijah, like God, cared not for gambling. The machine looked as though it never sported a lens before, the heat from the rifle blast having welded the whole contraption shut as it removed a portion of it. The machine instantly recalibrated for the nearest threat, and perforated the back of the sentry bot to its left. Both sentry bots returned to life, although the sounds of their weapons arming were drowned out by the penetrating booming of gunfire. The bots turned to face their newfound ambusher. Elijah adjusted his aim. The combat inhibitor was a laughably large target. Elijah was quite nearly disappointed with their dreadfully crass design. Like little automated tanks, with ridiculous off-switches the size of backpacks dominating a large section of their rears. Elijah fired a second round into the back of the sentry bot on the turret's right. The inhibitor erupted in sparks. Elijah signalled Veronica to close the door, to which she quickly obliged. Elijah returned the rifle to its leaning stance by the door. He then waited. The roar of the gunfire softened behind the thick metal door as it hinged shut. Bullets slashed at it, small dents forming where the barrage was most intense. Elijah extended his hand for a replacement pulse grenade. Another soldier stepped in to fulfill his request. Elijah equipped the rifle again and nodded at Veronica. The woman leaned leisurely on the panel, one hand fully extended to support her leaning body, whilst her other hand prepared to open the door. In light of the circumstances, Elijah semi wished for a more alert presence in Veronica, but such was her way. The door wrenched open a second time. Elijah did not waste time, bowling the grenade under the door before it was open a foot. Returning to his cover behind the door frame, Elijah waited for the unique burst created by the grenade. He rounded the corner, rifle raised, to find the robot almost entirely decommissioned by the cannonade of gunfire and repeated EMP blasts. It clung to life by threads. Elijah nonchalantly placed a killing blast in the machine's chest. The machine's extremities gave up their attempt to level at Elijah, and slumped towards the ground, like a man sleeping in a chair.
Elijah smiled, propping the rifle on his shoulder towards the ceiling, "In the category of events that turned out about as well as they could have, I believe we have an entry."