This story was a mixture of GATE: JSDF, Borderlands, Battlefield Bad Company, Star Wars: Republic Commando, Starcraft, and Warhammer 40000; with some references of Ghostbusters and The Sorcerer's Apprentice poem. Copyright infringement was not intended.
A few years after the deathmatch incident…
A yellow box-shaped robot with one wheel stand guard near the entryway to the massive building that housed the numerous collections of ammunition and weapons, primarily the Torgue brands numbering in the hundreds of thousands. This enclosed structure was built within the now peaceful territories of the Eldar republic and thus lightly guarded. However, this sentient machine, like most of his product line at the time, developed several habits that are quite irrelevant such as researching grains of sand and dancing in the long duration of guard duties. On this day before sunrise, a terran cybernetic soldier appeared walking toward the storage facility and meet the little robot. "Greetings fellow employee, I am a CL4P-TP custodian bot, you can call me by my local designation-"
"Claptrap, can you allow me to checkout the inventories inside the armory?" asked the cyborg in a frontier accent.
"Sure thing! As a Hyperion-made service robot, I am programmed to maintain the flow of who goes in or out at designated guard points. Well, ex-Hyperion to be more accurate; ever since your mechanized hive minds took in many models of claptraps very kindly decades ago, a whole new generation of CL4P-TPs was established for the service of the collective A.I. race with marked improvements. In fact, we don't have to worry about digital codes that automatically shut down everyone of our kind. Or getting horrible abuses from other synthetic coworkers. Or the inability to climb stairs. Or even-"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You're happy! Now, are you about to open the gate for me?"
"I'll be on the way, buddy! Now please stand still while the scanner proceed with the verification analysis." About thirty seconds in, the device give out a positive sign. "Lucky you! You're a-okay to enter the armory!"
"Oh good. I'll be on my way to-"
"Hold on for a moment, friend! There is one more thing to do for me before proceeding to the building."
"And that is?"
"Three minutes of dancing with me!"
"W-W-Wait, WHAT?!"
"That's the favor! I got a new dance routine to try out. If you are able to follow me step-by-step in the duration, I will finally let's you go. If you miss more than three mistakes, then you have to start all over again until you successfully did it."
"I'm not sure if-"
"Here we go in 3… 2… 1… DANCE TIME!" And goes the ridiculous dance by claptrap. After several mistakes and restarts, the military personnel finally completed the task. "Excellent! You have finished the favor being asked of you to do quite flawlessly. Let me open the gate for you!"
"Good, and probably the last time we would ever meet, you stupid little prick," mumbled the disgruntled techno-organic being as he wait for the robot to open the door.
"AAaaand open!" The gate entrance is open wide. "Enjoy your inspection inside the giant storage building while I wait here and lo-... oooo what's this? This is cool!" Claptrap see some plant life on the ground and move closer to interact.
"Oh, I will. I most certainly will," smirked the soldier heading for the armory. Once inside, he's very awe by the sight of rocket launchers, grenades, and other weapons that use explosives in the thousands. And he had an idea of what to do with them as this person unveil his newly hand-made device for this moment.
Several hours later…
"So this leads to the majority of Torgue weapon designs, yes?" asked the human representative of the Torgue corporation accompanied by several escorts of Eldar and Terran constructs inside transport vehicles as well as a couple of drones.
"Affirmative sir," confirmed the robotic foreigner. He then gets a video alert from one of the drones and proceed to display a hologram projection of what the flying machine is seeing from a device at hand. "You can see the enormous armory where much of your firearms are stored in but it's still several distances from our current position. Our next stop will be a small plateau very shortly where we can get a view of the facility." He spot something on the real-time display. "What the hell...? All escort personnel, we got an unauthorized asset at the next stopping point. Prepare to detain him!" Just as he finished his orders, flashes of light appear from the digital displays and windows attached to the vehicles, follow by shockwaves and loud sounds that indicate a massive explosion. The convoy immediately arrive at the site and the occupants get out quickly to see a big, bright mushroom-cloud at the same location of where the armory used to be.
"WAAHAHAHAHAA! YEEEHAAA!" yelled the excited demolition expert with his arms held high and attracting the shocking expressions of the people getting close to him.
"Son! Was all of this your doing?" demanded the Torgue representative.
"Yep and guilty as charge! Beautiful isn't it? It did help that there are several small anti-matter warheads lying around the place," answered the misbehaving soldier.
"WHAT THE F**K JUST HAPPENED? THE WHOLE BADASS STRUCTURE IS ALL GONE!" stated Mr. Torgue interruptedly through the communication links.
"Mr. Torgue, you shouldn't be doing that while you're in orbit!" responded the official.
"I REALLY WANTED TO KNOW RIGHT NOW! CAN SOME MOTHERF****R TELL ME WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!"
"Hello sir, the name's Hazarg and I'm letting your man know that I personally blown up everything inside the storage all at once! Amazing isn't it!" the cyborg responded to the question.
"F***ING WHHAAAAT! YOU YOURSELF… TOTALLY ANNIHILATED EVERY… LAST… ONE OF MY EXPENSIVE CREATIONS IN ONE… BIG… EXPLOSI-uh… uh, uh, oh, oh, oh, ah, ah, ah, AH, AH, AH!" cried the CEO.
"Oh, looks like my boss finally learn the real consequences of explosives," said the hopeful representative.
"Oh my. Uh, look Torgue, I'm really sorry about this. I didn't think that you would not like the destruction of your toys," the cybernetic person apologizes.
"Me… like it. I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT! THAT IS ONE OF THE MOST WONDERFUL S**T YOU HAVE EVER COME UP WITH FOR ME TO SEE! YOU ARE NOW OFFICIALLY ONE OF TORGUE'S BEST FRIEND! IF YOU NEED SOMETHING TO BLOW S**T UP, THEN YOU CAN CALL THE TORGUE CORPORATION FOR THE BEST WEAPONS WE HAVE EVER BUILT! LATER!"
"Or not," spoke the disappointed agent.
"Thanks for the appreciation Torgue! WAAHHOOO!" exclaim the explosive specialist before taking a look around at escorts with very disappointed and angry expressions. "What?"
Forward a few days somewhere on Falmarius…
A human male mage is taking his horse-driven wagon on a dirt road toward a village for supplies when he hear a sound from a woodland near him. The magician listen and can tell that it is a cry albeit distorted. Curious, he walk closer to the source of the sound as it become louder. Once he get there, the wizard find a yellow box-shape entity in a state of sadness and battered.
"Wahahahah! I feel so alone! Wahahahaha!" said the sobbing claptrap. Feeling sympathetic to the bot, the wizard attempt to lift up this being and put it in his wagon but find the robot to be quite heavy for his size. Therefore, he cast a magical spell to levitate the machine toward the wagon. "Wait, am I flying? Yeah, I'm really flying!" stated the bot before being drop down on the wagon. "Did I… spring a leak? Am I leaking?! AaaH, I'M LEAKING! There's oil everywhere!" The mage didn't see any fluids coming out but the claptrap is still in bad shape. Afterwards, the human arrive at the village to buy the necessary supplies he need back to his house.
"Hello Master Allendor, how is your research?" asked a village chief.
"Some setbacks I came upon but I'm sure it will be resolve," responded the wizard.
"I can see… the codes," cried the robot.
"Hey master, what is that thing?" said one of the children curious about the machine in the wagon.
"I believe it is some sort of golem made of metal, young one. When I finish my business here, I will bring it to my home and restore him," said the magic user.
With his resupply done in hours, he travel back to his large cottage while tolerating the weeping of the yellow machine. After reaching his dwelling, the human magician transport the goods and claptrap inside the building. For a while, he review his research on magic related to creation processes of life-like beings, healing, and alchemy. Getting ideas for spells to try out, the wizard set up a room to begin this robot's recovery. He use common magic skills in the attempt to repair it but there's nothing happening to fix the damaged bot. The next spells require more work to perform as he had the advanced training necessary to use these special powers. Yet still, they fail to restore claptrap. With no other options left, the human mage proceed to use the most powerful magic he will ever cast before. This spell is also unpredictable and have the chance to seriously harm the user. Nevertheless, magician gather as much energy as he can for this expensive wizardry. Once the collected magic reached critical mass, he conclude his chanting and then direct the enormous power toward the poor machine being electrified. The man feel exhausted after completing the spell with just enough stamina to witness the result of his work as the recovery on the robot's metal framework make it look new in mint-condition. "By the gods, that spell actually did it."
"Am I… alive? HAHAHA! I AM ALIVE!" shouted the now cheerful bot who then notice the tired mage. "Well hello there, stranger. Let me introduce myself. I am a CL4P-TP steward bot, but my friends call me Claptrap… If I knew where they are right now or… wait a minute! Where the hell am I anyway? Hey mister, can you tell me where I am right now?"
The falmarian did not understand the foreign language. "How about we start with the introduction, starting with me first. My name is Allendor El Hammerlock: Master sage and scholar from the Rondel Magic Academy. What is your name, dear fellow?" the sage asked.
"Greetings Hammerlock sir, my name is Clap… trap… well, it looks like told you my local designation twice now. So how about you telling me about my current location?"
"My apologies but I really cannot understand what is coming out of your… voice."
"All I'm saying is… wait a minute! How can you not tell what I'm saying to you? It's the language I speak with my robo-friends and some… Ooohhh, whoops! My bad, I forgot that I had multilingual programs installed so that I can easily understand many languages without a sweat… if I can even sweat at all. That said, you are probably now hearing my default mode of communication since I was guarding an enormous house stacked with awesome loot of destruction. That is until some jackass decided to blow up the place so big that I was sent flying to the sky so high that… um… oh yeah, let me change my language selection output so that you can clearly hear me. Eh, eh, sorry about that." The robot then display a light-blue hologram showing the list of languages available; hundreds at least. The problem is that this is Claptrap's first experience with the language changes as well as being a little lost on which one to choose. First comes Japanese, then Russian, follow by Mandarin, and dozens more languages that the wizard can't truly comprehend before the human recognize the native word on a dialect while the machine was in a pause. He interact with that hologram using a finger onto that language which changed to an orange color. The display goes away when Hammerlock pointed that color a few times. "Does it work? Can you hear me now?" asked the bot.
"That must be my language you're talking right now!" stated the mage.
"Great! You can now recognize what are coming out of my mouth… it's digital anyhow. Ah, that's right! I should start over from the begin of this conversation." With all things set, the robot tell the magician its name, purpose, what happened, and other topics that had led to this situation for hours. In return, the human tell Claptrap where they are right now, about magic and additional information that the machine want to know. "In other words, you're a powerful wizard that have used a far riskier spell to save me. That sound supercool and thank you for that!"
"The pleasure is mine, I guess. Well since I did rescue your... life, you may consider yourself a servant to Master Allendor El Hammerlock."
"Really?! An apprentice to play with magic? Awesome! Give me five!... It's a form of friendship greeting. Just place your hand with my hand and boom, we are friends. Get it?" Hesitantly, the magician put his hand close to robot's hand which allow Claptrap to slap the palm. "Alright! We're friends now! Ah,ah,ah! Now commencing dance celebration! WOOHOO!" Immediately, the machine dance in excitement.
"Well… that's strange. Eh, it matters not! What can go wrong?"
For almost a month, the mage personally made extensive studies on the potentials and dangers in magical healing, creating life, and other unknowns that he dare to explore. On the contrary, his endeavor was sometimes interrupted by the idiotic activities of Claptrap like excessive talking, dancing, and home-wrecking. Still, he managed to create a wand and a hat endowed with high concentration of magical energy. Ironically, these items were made with the help of knowledge sifted with as much patience as possible from the rambling chatters of the bot and the accidental discoveries from the disorder it brought. After sundown, the wizard test the tools at a small scale such as levitation and dust manipulation. "Aawwwww, uh, getting really sleepy right now. I wonder where that golem got himself into? I better put them away while I still can before he show up again, " said the magician as he hide the hat and wand in a safe place and proceed to go to sleep on his bed. Minutes later, Claptrap come to the research room quietly for a change and find the magical instruments missing regardless of the previous warnings from the sage. As he move around the house, the robot somehow sense magical presences toward a certain direction. The machine eventually locate and then take the hidden hat and wand for the purpose of more 'testings.' For once did the bot exit the house without waking up the human magic user in his sleep. Close to an hour has passed and the metal being arrived next to an altar-like rock formation with a gentle slope where it will play with the new toys. Waiting for him is a female dark elf holding in her hand a wearable beard woven with the hairs of dead humans and humanoids caught in battle or bandit raids; as well as donated hairs from humans, her people, and other humanoids.
"Wow, nice beard you had made for me! Apart from the blood and sadness of the previous owners," stated Claptrap.
"I actually got help from my clan and the villagers I saved from bandits but here it is," said the elf woman. "Do you have my reward ready? You must realized how much I been through to get the results you want! Uh, what are you doing now?"
"Oh mighty gods of magic, make this batch of hair all gold and shiny!" commanded the robot with a spell. Instead of the beard all golden, the color is now white and grey. "Oh… the hairs are more like someone's wrinkling grandparents... Whatever, this will do!"
"Uh, huh. So, are you going to reward me?"
"Sure I will! But first, I want you to be my audience for my fabulous magical demonstrations so follow me!"
"Let's hope this would be worth my time." The elf follow the bot to the semi-altar formation and stand near the bottom of the hill while Claptrap stand on top.
"I think it is time to show off my true power, minion. I'm gonna summon an arch-demon, then destroy it with my amazing skills. I need you here to clap loudly and tell me how awesome I am. Ready?"
"Are you sure that you can defeat such a demonic monster? And please, I am not your minion and my name is Varji Haa Irgaf!"
"Sound like you're ready for it! Here we go!" The noises of thunder and lightning and the glows on Claptrap's hands signify the beginning of this magic show. "Mwahahaha, come thunder! Geh, eh, come lightning! Touch this altar with power frightening! YeahahahahahaHA! Oh, and dancing TOOOO! BwahahahahaHA! DahahahahaHA! Ahahahah-eh, eh, eh, eh, heeh!"
"Are you just going to dance there and laugh all day or what?!"
"A-ahem. Magic beard gods, as my skills deepen, let me test them against an EVIL DEMON!" With the chant done, a bolt of lightning come down to the ground and a flash appear. "TADAH!"
"It's… a broom… with ball hammers?" observed the dark-skinned female on a broom entity with two arms and two rounded hammers for hands.
"Oh, a broom. That is cute and all but not the enemy I wanted to annihilate. Somehow I… screw up the spell. Oh well, I'll get rid of it. Gods of power, gods of fear! Get this dumb broom OUTTA HERE!" A lightning bolt strike at the broomstick follow by another bolt to the surface. At present are two broomsticks. "TADA… ah… uh, what? I said... OUTTA HERE!" Now there are four. "TADa- What the hell?! Gah… ah… oh, I know. Gods and goddesses, pretty please! Send these matchsticks out of existence!" Eight broomsticks now which leaves both the robot and elf dumbstruck. "So… uh, I'm noticing a problem here. Let me work on a counter spell for this occasion. And my apologies if they act weird to you."
"Weird you say? You're just as weird as… GAAAH!" Her speech is interrupted by an attempted punch from one of the animate broomsticks. She easily dodge it and then slice the attacker in pieces with her sword. More of those incoming abominations charge at the she-elf but every time she destroy them, new ones appear in an instant.
"No offense minion, but those brooms are awesome! And I made 'em myself!"
"Again, I'm no minion of yours and focus on finding a solution to this!" shouted the falmarian humanoid continuing to slash several opponents whose numbers doesn't seem to go down anytime soon.
"Okay, looks like I got to burn them. Beard of power, thick and wiry, burn these fools like something FIERY!" Suddenly the broomsticks stop and get blasted by lightning strikes. However, those things did not burn into ashes and instead obtain flame elements covering their bodies. "Ooohh CRAP!"
"What the hell did I get myself into?!" Varji asked herself while being careful not to get burn.
"Minion, you're doing great! Probably!" exclaimed the optimistic machine seeing the elf slice and dice the incoming wave of wooden entities on fire.
"By the gods, you do like to say minion a lot, don't you?" she asked disappointingly.
"I sometimes can't help wanting to say that word even if you were not... Hey, I got a better idea! I'll shrink them! Eeny meeny miney mow, my beard shall turn you TINY, TINY!" The magic constructs stop again as well as being lighted up by bolts of energy. Only this time, they're twice as big as before. "Whooops! Now that is the exact opposite of what I meant to do! Gimme a sec."
"This is shitty insane!" yelled the shocked dark elf fighting for her life. In the mist of confusion, she get hit hard in the back and sent flying several yards away. The wooden automatons move closer to her when energy bolts instantly peppered them to shreads. Out come four armored commandos firing their energy weapons at the big broomsticks. They wear helmets with T-shaped visors and nano-muscle suit underneath their protective gear.
"What is her status, Fixer?" asked the squad leader.
"Luckily, she's still alive and only received moderate damage and burns thanks to her protective gears on her back," said one of the special operatives.
"Alright, Delta squad! Assume attack formation!" The squad shoot their guns at the weird abominations who continue to respawn at a very fast rate.
"They just keep coming!" stated the demolition expert before getting punched on the chest by a ball hammer. "OOWW! That hurt!"
"Less talking, more shooting!" shouted the sharpshooter.
"Hahaha, hahaha! Look at them all! I've created the most powerful minions ever!" Claptrap proclaimed. Surprisingly, a ball of energy heads toward the animate objects and then explode among them. It didn't solve the problem of stopping replacements though. "Hey, Hammerlock! I decided to test out your finished magic products and look how amazing it is!"
"I really don't see anything 'amazing,' Claptrap! I have warned you several times about playing with unpredictable magic! Now you bette-!"
"You there, sir! Do you have the time to heal this lady here? Because we're in combat and don't have time to cover her injuries at this moment!" requested the squad leader in the native language.
"Ow, ow, ow. What the hell just happened?" the elf wake up in pain.
"I guess there's not much choice available now. Alright gentlemen, I'll see what I can do for her as a mage," replied the wizard walking to the direction of the humanoid. "Greetings ma'am, I am Claptrap's master named Allendor El Hammerlock. It seems that you got yourself wounded by the foolish antics of my servant. Let me treat you back to shape first and find a remedy for his troubles."
"Hey, hey! I might have figure it out! Something bad happens every time I try to do a good spell, so I should try a bad spell to have something GOOD to happen!" the robot told them.
The commando leader said, "I would actually advise against making anothe-"
"My other spells incited groans, and so I summon BADASS CLONES!" Once again, the broomsticks pause and get electrified by bolts of lightning. The results: eight animate tools having stronger wood frames and attack strengths.
"Whoa, now that's a challenge worthy for my skills!" remarked the captivated sharpshooter.
"Oh great, there goes our little R & R from the tough jobs," commented the not-so enthusiastic demo specialist.
"ARE YOU F****NG KIDDING ME! The one time I want my spell to fail and it WORKS?!" the bot expressed his surprise.
"Oh dear, this is getting out of hand," noted the sage as the fighting resume.
"Out of hand? This is a complete nightmare now!" stated the upset elf recovering her injuries and seeing the commandos' firepower taking more effort to destroy the much tougher opponents that just keep appearing over and over again.
"I have created this boss fight and it is AWESOME!" Claptrap declared.
"I don't think everyone shared that same view from our perspective here, Claptrap," responded the electronic warfare commando.
"I sort of enjoy this though," said the marksman.
The magician finish the healing process onto the humanoid and prepare to confront the bot. "Claptrap, you better give me back those items once you stop all of this foolishness!"
"For the sake of the gods, make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!" demanded the dark elf.
"That... might be easier said than... uh... um... eh... hey, don't worry about it! Look, if I can't get rid of them, then I'll make all of you stronger!" answered the machine.
"Delta, I have a bad feeling about this so get your specialties ready," spoke the leading soldier.
"Wa-wa-wait Claptrap, you can't be that serious?!" shouted the human mage.
"Lords of facial hairs, give me license; make the adventurers GODS OF VIOLENCE!" The animate wooden entities halt the attacks but unlike the previous cases, the 'audience' are the ones to be affected. In this case, their movement speeds are largely reduced with some more significant.
"We have a big situation on our hands, Delta," noted the leader.
"Right on the mark, Lead," replied the e-warfare specialist armed with an electrolaser weapon.
"Son of a... " stated the sniper holding a particle-beam rifle.
"My body! I can barely move my whole body!" the female person vocalized in terror.
"Servant, what did you just do?! I feel as stiff as a marble statue!" yelled the wizard in the same terrible state.
"Wow, and I thought we're the ones getting the worst predicaments! Uh... wait a second. Boss, you're not thinking about what all of this means in the future, don't you?" asked the explosive expert who then launched a high-yield grenade out of a grenade launcher toward the same hardened brooms.
"Cut the chatter, Scorch! Form a perimeter in front of them as best as you can!" commanded the leading special operative.
"Aaaaagh! I'm so sorry! I'll try to reverse it!" said the robot observing the action below him.
"You are the worst mage I ever lays my eyes on!" shouted the frustrated elf.
"Worst indeed! Alright you iron imbecile, unbind me this instant or we're all going to die from your mistakes!" demanded the magic user.
"I think I got one! I call all gods, red, blue, and orange! Help me undo my spell with... wait, why did I say 'orange'? Oh god, WHY THE HELL DID I SAY 'ORANGE'?!" Claptrap stated.
"I'm really at a lost on how to reply that statement," noted the special operation leader.
"Well newsflash, I'm running low on special ammo!" reminded the explosive expert.
"And the rest of us need time to recharge!" said the sharpshooter switching his overheated beam weapon to the plasma rifle.
"Um, borange? Uh, forange? Gah... uh... gods of beard magic, red and orange, un-curse my minions like you'd un-grease a... door-hinge?" After the metal being said that, the 'audience' are immediately lifted from the magic restriction and free to move.
"We're back in the game, Delta!" the leading commando announced to his squad.
"HOLY CRAP! That actually worked! IT REALLY WORKED!" spoke the astonished robot. Another surpise is that the respawning of more broomsticks stopped.
"Update, there are now four left with no signs of reinforcements!" Fixer notified as he electrocute one wooden abomination into a crisp using the lightning gun.
"Not so tough now, aren't ya!" smirked the marksman who obliterate one opponent with one particle-beam shot.
"Timber!" shouted Scorch after sticking a hand-held plasma grenade onto the third animate being before the killing device explode it. The last one is destroyed by the leader's shotgun shells in close quarters.
"Are they gone? Yay, we're safe! I think I'm through playing with magic for now. Regardless, I am the best broom-summoner in the history of clean-o-mancy as of today! Come on back everybody and... Hey, what is going with you two? You look ill all of a sudden!" Claptrap spotted the dark elf and the sage in a disoriented state.
"I feel... so tired. What kind of sorcery... did you do?" Varji wanted to know.
"Perhaps his last cast somehow... disrupted our powers within us," Allendor hypothesized.
"Eh, eh, I guess I didn't know my own strength! Now where did I put that...? Oh, I forgot that I lost all the money as a token for helping me," the droid said.
"WHAT?! You lost all twenty thousand denariis beforehand?!" she exclaimed.
"Well, I thought that the magical entertainment itself would be considered a better reward for doing nice things," answered the bot.
"Claptrap, I think it's now a better time to bring you back to base intact," stated the squad leader.
"Yeah Claptrap, you made us burn through all of our ammunition for this farce," the demo operator added.
"Yours at least," countered the sniper.
"You guys wanted to go home? Great, I love to help you with that!" responded the sentient machine preparing to conduct another magic spell.
"Hold on, I remembered you saying you're done with wizardry?!" asked the squad commander but to no avail.
"Shan-grela, yaka-shi! Take these friends to where man has never gone before!" The spell is done in a bright flash, blinding the commandos for ten seconds before they realize that the droid disappear.
"Everything I did... for that golem... was... for... nothing," spoke the elf who quickly faint to the ground on her back.
"Ugh, there goes my hard work," commented the sage resting but still awake.
The lead commando hand-signal two soldier to bring in something from their last hiding spot, another to the other commando to take care of the humanoid, and then use his built-in comm device to notify a warship floating in the sky nearby. "Delta Lead to stealth carrier Boudica, we lost sight of the claptrap target. Request to come on board the ship, over."
"Boudica to Delta Lead, a medivac dropship is being prepared to your location. Any passengers to add?"
"One dark elf and one human magic user for medical evaluation. Where they want to go is up to them."
"Understood, over an-huh... hold on? Yes... okay... The captain want to speak with you, sir."
"Permission granted," the leading operative confirmed.
"This is the captain speaking, commando. I got news from my crew that they captured this magical claptrap after it instantly appeared inside the hangers. We'll be waiting for your squad's arrival."
"Huh, good news indeed. Over and out," ended the transmission from the leader. From there, the terran walk to the magician and spoke in the native language. "Sir Hammerlock, it looks like you want something from us for all the troubles you endured with that robot of ours."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry that much, soldier. I pretty much have knowledge about your people, science as you called it, history of your involvement in this world, and other significant subjects the metal being had told me. Of course, his non-stop conversations, jokes, and misdemeanors can leave an ordinary person or even a mage like me to feel miserable or angry around him regardless of whether such individuals are prepared or not. Even if I do tell people about my knowledge, they will think I'm gone insane once they find the source of the details and see the stupidity Claptrap has displayed. If I had to ask, why did your civilization 'adopted' these um... 'constructs' in the first place?"
"Honestly sir, there's an insurmountable amount of data related to that question to analyze. But long story short, we were, and probably still are, open-minded to any tools we can adapt for our own purposes, modify them as much as possible, and be willing to live with whatever consequences coming from such interventions. As of today though, you're having a non-invasive health appointment with us to see any damage from that last spell you're suffering right now."
"You said non-invasive? So you're not actually performing surgery or dissection for that matter?"
"You can thank the Eldar for enforcing ethical codes on proper medical studies. Once the examinations are complete, you get several options on what you want to do next."
"I get to choose my own path? Huh, well I do have an interest in exploration. So which place can you consider for me to visit?"
"The most dangerous continent ever to exist on this world: Pandora."
"Here is Claptrap's gift, boss!" the demolition expert informed his leader as he gently drop a large bag full of coins on the ground.
"Is that the reward money that my servant spoke of?" asked Sir Hammerlock who then smell an awful odor from the bag. "Ugh, what the... where has that woven sac been to?"
"Mister, you don't want to know!" replied Scorch before a fast metal-tipped bolt hit his helmet without a scratch. "On the other hand, we can now reveal that this treasure trove was stolen anyway by those disgraceful scumbags over there!"
"Give us back our loot or we will kill all of you!" demanded the bandit leader with his gangs outnumbering the squad five-to-one.
"These morons will kill us regardless of the decision, if they can," commented the sniper. In the nick of time, the medivac dropship arrive and hover on top of the hill while the medical crew carry the disabled falmarians to the vessel.
"You will never leave this land with our prize! Men, kill them!" the human bandit commanded despite being disturbed by the ship's presence.
"Delta squad, proceed to eliminate targets!" the lead commando ordered. In a matter of minutes, the entire bandit group was gun down in a hail of energy bolts from the guns belonging to the elite squad. The sharpshooter check on a nearby corpse and then trigger a burst from his automatic weapon.
"Sev, do you really have to do that?" questioned the demolition specialist.
"Rule 17, always make sure your enemies are dead."
Earlier...
A group of robotic soldiers, mechanics, and pilots were taking a break near a radio set playing music inside the inner hangers of the Boudica carrier ship. After one song ended, a Torgue advertisement was aired. "Torgue Ammunition has a pop quiz for ya skag-slacker! You're surrounded by dozens of steely-eyed bandits: do you A) blow them to smithereens with your Torgue assault rifle, B) run and take cover, or C) calmly get them to put their weapons down... AND YOU KNOW THE ANSWER IS A! BUUUY GODDAMN TORGUE GUNS!" Next comes an ad from Vladof. "In these trying times, the Vladof corporation is certain of one thing: they are coming. Use our high-fire rate weapons to topple your oppressors and take back your rightful freedom! You will bury them under an avalanche of lead! And as they are driven back, they will see one brand of weapon in the hands of those who have defeated them: Vladof! Vladof! VLADOF!" Then the Maliwan advertisement was heard. "Combat is an art, Maliwan weapons are the paint. Our elemental tech transform the battlefield from a cacophony of idiocy into a masterpiece of destruction. The unwashed hordes will burn... and fry... and melt into a portrait of exquisite death. Maliwan: where form meets function." Music with no lyrics followed.
"Never imagined that we'd be developing licensed weapons from these gun-making corporations," stated a crew member.
"Not to mention the recently-established divisions allowed to use them like the Tediore Division, Jakobs, Vladof, Maliwan, and Torgue," added the robotic soldier.
"How different will this Maliwan division be compare to the much older 'Ghoul-Busters' division?"
"The Maliwan division will be limited to only weapons from the respective manufacturer and they are not in the business of dark magic control as of this moment. In any case, the arsenals of the newer divisions will be heavily modified from the manufacturers' original designs."
"Come to think about, the Torgue division is having difficulties in procuring additional armaments since that explosive storage incident."
"Indeed so. I also heard that the pyromaniac responsible for that event was transferred to the newly formed 'Bad' Company which is filled with idiots, screw-ups, rejects, glitches, and other unwanted assets being sent to battle as cannon fodders."
"No shit! And here we are helping an elite group of long-serving commandos clean-up a part of the mess, by observing the consequences made by an annoying robot!"
"Speaking of commandos, those veterans operated quite differently from the spartan supersoldiers; considering that they are not genetically perfect for combat and trained at a later age than the spartans training as children.
"Definitely. So any news about them reach us yet?" Before anyone can answer, a bright light flashed suddenly in front of the group.
"TADA!" the magic claptrap appeared and look around the ship's hangers. "Uh, where on earth am I?"
One month later inside a laboratory within the Eldar Republic territory...
A team of scientists finalized the modifications on the claptrap, now designated FR4G-TP or Fragtrap, that will make it a powerful counterbalance against the gods of Falmarius. The modified bot retain his memory but his chassis is now protected with advanced armor virtually indestructible thanks to the magical energy flowing inside the droid. Additionally, the terrans installed many digital programs suitable for warfare and independent decision-making. The most significant upgrade is the software executive named SoulFighter that select unique abilities for the robot to use depending on the situation being analyzed. With all the preparations completed, one of the researcher start the booting sequences to activate Fragtrap and wait for a while.
"Booting sequence complete... Whoa, that was quite a ride! Well hello there, techno-friends! I am a CL4P-TP ste-... wait, was it FR4G-TP combat... oh, I am so confused!" stated the machine.
"Technically, you are once a claptrap unit but now you're designated as a fragtrap fighting unit. Let's move on then, identify the directives within your programming," commanded a female scientist.
"Claptrap the Fragtrap, that sound badass! Oh right, recalling directives. Directive one: Protect civilizations! Directive two: defend civil liberty and deliver social justice. Directive three: Dance!"
"Huh, what? That ain't right!"
"Commencing directive three! Unce, unce, woob, woob, wup-wup-wup, woob, woob!"
"Ohh boy," said the scientist realizing the issue with its dance protocols.
A day goes by and the fragtrap is at the firing range inside a large building to test his new fighting abilities. "Wow, I never knew that I would be this good with guns and grenades!"
"At least he managed to fire straight at the targets," mumbled the evaluating terran safely outside the indoor room. "Alright Fragtrap, let's test the SoulFigher program right away."
"Goody! Activating battle protocol now!" Holographic displays surrounded the robot for several seconds until a large object instantly digistruct on both his arms. "Huh, this thing looks like the rounded bombs you see in cartoons." Immediately, the fuse lit up and the Pop Goes The Weasel music tune is played at the same time.
"All personnel, evacuate now!" A few minutes later, the entire structure blow up in many pieces of debris. Fragtrap itself survive though.
After a couple of days, the combat droid is testing the software again at an outdoor shooting field. "Recompiling my combat code!" The next ability digitally construct a copy of his primary weapon in one hand to his other hand which then start firing nonstop. "Oh god, I can't stop!" Unfortunately, this action skill also triggered nearby active weapons to shoot uninterrupted. It lasted for a minute until the dual-wielding ability stop and the affected guns explode due to overheating of their energy source. In the near future, the extraterrestrials will mass-produce weapons durable and resilient enough to not be blown up like that and possibly have on-off switches.
For over two months, the research teams did their best to fix the problems presented by this war machine while also inspecting the 'action packages' brought out from the program. One of them was a combat mode of four pirate cannons firing in synchronization with the climatic finale of an unknown music called 1812 Overture, Op. 49 by Pyotr Ilyich Tchailkovsky; it became more erratic and dangerous near the end of the overture. Another example was the robot being covered with missile launchers that fire swarms of missiles everywhere indiscriminately. Then there's the action package emitting diverse range of grenades in every directions. No matter which corrections they did, his dancing behaviors continued to exist and the SoulFighter digital executive remained as glitchy and random as ever; not to mention the potential for friendly fire. Worst still, the correcting programs became so corrupt that any attempt to digitally clean one programming will result in the malfunction of an otherwise excellent device. Complete destruction of this unit is not possible since the interstellar beings already had put significant efforts to make Fragtrap nearly invincible from all form of attacks including their own weapons. That said though, they decided to deploy the robot somewhere in Falmarius for him to 'befriend' the natives. The hope is that this bot will either be destroyed by apostles or somehow cause damage to the whole region.
"Who are you?" asked an apostle who spotted the droid.
"Hi there, I am an FR4G-TP combat prototype but you can call me Fragtrap! I came here to be friends with everyone I meet! So, what's your name?"
"Orandue Ich-wom, an apostle for Haldy: Goddess of the Underworld."
"Greetings Orandue, can you be my friend?"
"I could be your friend only if yo-"
"YAY! High five!... Oh. Its simple, clap your hand on my hand and we can officially be pals! Pretty please with sweets on top?!" The apostle decide to just do what he ask for and slap on Fragtrap's hand thinking that its harmless. "Now that what I'm talking about! Whoop, WHOOP! Dun tata la da, dun tata- Hey I know! I'll get a disco ball to add the dance flavor!"
"Maybe you could make a contract with so that we... uh, are you listening to me?" The entity see the robot having some difficulties finding something.
"Can't seem to find it in my hard drive. Hmm, how about here?" Incidentally, the bot activate his most controversial combat software in such an effort to find a disco ball. "I think I found it! Boogie time!" exclaimed the metal being who begin to dance with a floating disco ball above him that shoot different types of lasers very frequently in all directions.
"What is this?" questioned the semi-immortal before instantly get burned, shocked, corroded, frozen, slagged, and sliced into pieces many times over.
After the disco ball disappeared and the dancing stopped, the droid then see a pile that used to be Orandue.
"What happened to you? You're now all... Oh, silly me! I forgot that ball was one of many packages installed within me that I can use when enacting the SoulFighter combat program. Eh, eh, sorry about that!"
It seems that I'm done with crazy ideas to explore for this month. I'll take my time to decide if I should write a side story about a wandering 'nun' telling a story to children first, or a tale about engineering teams inspecting the 'artifacts' from past wars in the other universe.
5-25-2018 edit: Slight change to the 'controversial' name for the Falmartian goddess.