Prussia could no longer dream. While asleep, he simply lost consciousness by shutting his sensors to feed into the processor that managed his subconscious, which already monitored often repetitive operations like an autopilot. Theoretically he did not need to sleep at all, but it was a good way to conserve energy and make time pass quicker.
He was awoken by a pulse of information that fed in from his subconscious, alerting him of a change in engine sounds. The first thing he saw when his eyes clicked on was the orange surface of a huge rocky wasteland 5000 miles beneath him. The surface was dotted with dark craters and long dry canyons with steep walls that were fed by rivers that had ceased to flow millennia before humans or nations could ever glimpse at them. Craggy rust-coloured mountains of heights well beyond any on Earth jutted up far from the canyons in haphazard formations like scrunched up paper. Situated at the foot of one such mountain was a huge cylindrical hole with almost the same diameter as the mountain it was situated beside. It was a colossal mine, continuously being widened by bucket wheel excavators that looked like roving skyscrapers. Their spiked wheels ate ravenously at the walls of the pit they were digging, soon to devour into the neighbouring mountain.
As the spaceship began to descend, belly first, bright flashes erupted outside of the circular window upon contact with the planet's atmosphere. The spaceship shook and rattled. Prussia knew that if he was still made of flesh and blood, he would be feeling motion sick. A sudden flash of white light occurred just outside the window, and Prussia knew that if his eyes were still that of a human, he would be temporarily blinded by it. He looked over at Poseidon, who smiled awkwardly at Prussia. He said, "I've never seen a machine sleep before."
Prussia turned to look back out the window. The flashes had ceased now that they had descended further into Mars's atmosphere and slowing down using huge speed breaks that unfolded from the wings and loud rumbling reverse thrust from the engines. After slowing the spaceship to Mach 2, the thrust reversers retracted shut and the speed breaks folded in the blink of an eye. Jolting forward, the spaceship began banking left towards its destination.
As it banked to the left, Prussia had an even closer view at the surface of Mars. It reminded him of the deserts he had visited on Earth, only much colder.
The excavators drew closer, looking just as menacing as they were from space. Behind them, partially hidden by the mountain, a settlement came into view. Grey and brown cubic buildings and chimneys dotted haphazardly on the foot of the huge mountain. "That's Poseidon 6," said Poseidon proudly, "the sixth Poseidon mining settlement on Mars."
Prussia could see a telecommunications tower, supported by cables, that stood tall over the sett like a colossal titan. Red rotating Beacon lights were situated atop of the tower, alerting the spaceship's computer of its location. On the edge of the sett was a rectangular landing pad supported by metal stilts with hydraulic shock absorbers.
At a lower altitude, the spaceship banked around the mining pit. The deeper regions of the pit were devoid of light, making it difficult for Prussia to perceive how deep it was. "What are you mining?" He asked Poseidon.
"Uranium," Poseidon replied.
Thrust began to be vectored downwards as the spaceship swung around for final approach. Had the thrust nozzles not been set to allow VTOL capabilities, the spaceship would have stalled and crashed. The thrust in the engines decreased, allowing the spaceship to drop quickly. The sudden loss of gravitational force triggered Prussia's senses to become heightened again, but returned to normal when the landing gear hit the pad with a boom. The undercarriage and landing pad stilts did their job by absorbing the impact.
The landing pad began to descend below the Martian surface into a small subterranean spaceport, a necessity in a planet with such an inhospitable atmosphere. The spaceport's interior reminded Prussia of the gigantic aircraft hangars he had encountered during his time as a nation. It was dimly lit, with a terminal waiting area on the far side. A heavy airtight door slid shut behind the spaceship, followed by an alarm sounding to show that the spaceport floor was now pressurized with safe to breathe air.
Once the elevator had reached the floor, the spaceship taxied to a parking place. A ding sounded throughout the cabin as the doors opened. Stairs unfolded out of the doorways to a yellow walkway that led to the terminal. "Welcome to Poseidon 6," said Poseidon briskly as he stood up to retrieve a briefcase from the overhead locker and swung it by his side.
Prussia and Poseidon entered the terminal through a bulkhead door. Its interior was illuminated by neon lights in the centre of the ceiling. "So how do I get closer to the Outer Solar System from here?" Asked Prussia.
"There's a spaceport on a Tainan city to the northeast of here along the Tiu Valles canyon," Poseidon said thoughtfully.
Sirens began to scream. Poseidon stopped talking and looked to either side of himself vigilantly. "The facility has been breached," he said with fear in his voice as faint booms could be heard in the distence. "Is it those bastards at Lambert-Reyjord? Tainan Corporation?!" Poseidon said frantically. The aforementioned names were corporations that Prussia vaguely knew about. Behind them, deep thumps on the ginormous door to the planet's surface began to echo all around them. "Be advised," said a casual computer voice on the terminal's loudspeakers, "unknown forces have been spotted on the surface. Protocol 2 is now in effect. Please exit the terminal." Flickering holograms began to display 'PROTOCOL 2' in red while the message repeated itself.
Poseidon began to hurredly walk out of the terminal's exit, into a wide tunnel with a hyperloop rapid transit station situated on the left. "Protocol 2 means the facility is under lockdown and the bulkheads are armed to close at the first sign of any intrusion. The security forces will prepare to meet the intruders and have authority to detain or kill anybody they deem a threat."
Easily catching up with Poseidon, Prussia demanded, "tell me how to get out of here! I need to get to the Tainan city."
"Are you crazy?! On the surface they'll shoot you without thinking twice! And that self-healing polymer you've got isn't exactly bulletproof," shouted Poseidon, having to raise his voice to be heard over the alarms.
"It doesn't seem like I'll be much safer down here either," said Prussia, who was also having to raise his mechanical voice, "tell me how to get to the surface."
"We're under lockdown, all airlocks are closed and guarded. There's no way out right now," said Poseidon.
Prussia suddenly stood still while Poseidon kept his quick walking, before noticing that Prussia was no longer standing beside him and turned to look at him. "If they're trying to get in through the spaceport, then that's how I'll get out!" He said, rather impressed at his own idea.
"Fine, good luck out there," said Poseidon worredly, "I need to stay and make sure the facility survives."
"Good luck," said Prussia quickly before turning and running full-speed back into the terminal. Poseidon watched him go, before making his way deeper into the facility. Prussia meanwhile slowed himself down to a holt when he arrived at a window in the terminal beside the bulkhead that gave him a good view of the spaceport. Three sleek spaceships, designed for carrying passengers and supplies were lined up in a neat row while robots dilligently connected fuel pipes, loaded cargo and performed maintainence operations. They worked like clockwork, unaware of the invasion force above them.
"Those machines are just drones. They're not capable of receiving information of what's happening outside. They only know spaceships and how to maintain them," said Gilbird. The robots reminded Prussia of slaves that were purposefully kept ignorant.
The elevator fell without the spaceport becoming safely depressurized, causing an explosive decompression. It was impossible to open the elevator from the surface without breaking the hydraulic mechanism with explosives, so it made a loud thump when it hit the floor, dented and detached from the cables that kept it in place. Spaceships, which had not been restrained down, skidded across the concrete. The robots also deviated from their assigned positions, falling into a state of disarray when many tipped over and did not have self-righting mechanisms to get back on their magnetic tracks. Fuel spilled from pipes that had not been shut off and paint spewed from a hose that was no longer pointed to a fuselage. But everything stopped moving when the pressure equalised.
Prussia then looked on as few spheroid drones entered from the surface, each fitted with a camera and a laser turret. They seemed to coordinate their directions together, darting around like hover flies and communicating in code. Drones like those are intelligent but in a low classification of sentience. Like advanced animatronics, every action they took was pre-determined or relatively simple. Those drones knew nothing of what they were doing and why, and instead simply followed their programmed orders.
Without warning, panels on the walls and ceiling slid open to reveal 50mm charged laser cannons with lenses that were already targeting the drones, which knew no fear because they did not have the programming for it. Half a second later, the spaceport beyond the window was a cacophony of noise and light. Lasers screamed like sirens and gunfire growled away. When the light faded, smoke was still present so Prussia switched his eyes to infrared. He could see all three spaceships were wrecked with crumpled fuesleges and collapsed undercarriages. The leading edges of wings were damaged beyond air and spaceworthyness and thrust nozzles looked to be hanging by a thread. The maintainence robots and drones were utterly obliterated with fragments strewn around as though swept up and deposited by a tornado. But the laser turrets had also sustained damage in the recent melee. Their barrels were broken and targeting systems rendered faulty. The drones, although destroyed, had succeeded in clearing the way for the larger fighting force.
Ropes unfurled from the surface and soldiers began to rappel down to the elevator/landing pad that they had rendered inoperable. They were transhumans, Prussia could tell because they were too tall and wide to be regular humans that had not had their evolution hijacked by their employer's scientists. Their faces were covered by the same helmets as the shooters Prussia encountered on Earth. Heavy weapons constructed quickly into the palms of their hands seemingly out of thin air. Some of their hands folded away and were replaced by crowbars, drills and sawblades.
Then someone else descended into the subterranean spaceport with rockets on the soles of boots. The flames from the rocket boosters faded a couple of centimetres off the figure looked different to the rest. Their helmet had a blue visor with lenses that switched directions like chameleon eyes and a respirator that looked like a fighter pilot's oxygen mask. But it was less tall and more thin than the transhuman soldiers, as though it had been barely modified and was instead an genuine organic human. It's armor might even be plating, instead of a replacement for skin. It looked from left to right, revealing wires and transmitters on the back of the helmet. Then it pointed to the terminal, and they all began marching towards Prussia.
"Hide," said Gilbird urgently, "this is a fight you will not win."
Prussia looked at the oncoming soldiers and said grimly, "you're right." He twisted his head around looking for a place to hide. The closed bulkhead meant that he could not leave the terminal, but he noticed a ladder to a roof access hatch in the corner of the hall behind a row of benches. "How convenient," said Gilbird as Prussia ran towards it. His hands clamped around the rungs before any overheating warnings activated in his head. The climbing mechanism activated and he ascended to the ceiling. When close enough, he reached out with one arm to open the hatch, only to find that it would not budge. Processing what to do next occured in the blink of an eye when he shoved the hatch open in a tenacious shove of highly compressed hydraulic fluid. The hatch swung on its hinges and his arm retraced with a hiss and an explusion of steam.
Objective complete; the hatch was open. He proceded to climb to the roof, switching away from the climbing mechanism and began laying low on the roof. He hid behind a metal panel and heard the sound of glass smashing and footsteps making their way through the terminal. Prussia knew he would be safe from any infrared cameras or heartbeat sensors, but he was not invisible. He detected a couple of metallic thumps, followed by a clang and crash. The footsteps then faded away. "They must have taken off the bulkhead door and progressed further into the facility," Gilbird remarked.
The spaceport now seemed eerily quiet. Prussia hopped off the roof and headed towards the elevator, rolling when he dropped to the floor. Robot guts crunched under his feet as he strode. He paused to stare at the cracked outer casing of a drone and, for some reason, started to feel sorry for it. Drones were used for a lot of humanity's dirty work, without a choice or knowledge of why. The words 'advanced animatronics' popped up in his mind. Why was he feeling sorry for a machine that worked like a clockwork toy? In a short process he dismissed the sympathy and kept walking to the elevator, stepping on the round composite casing as he went.
Ropes that had been used to rappel down still hung over the elevator. Prussia looked up to see the orange sky above him and clung to the nearest rope. He had never climbed a rope since a testing chamber shortly after his mechanization. But the ability for his limbs to work together to carry him up a rope had not been deleted, so he began to climb.
But Prussia had barely ascended two metres before something grabbed his shoulder and dragged him down. Reacting as fast as his programming could, Prussia landed on his feet and twisted his body around to look at whatever had yanked him off the rope. He saw the mysterious humanoid soldier, standing uncomfortably close to him. It sent his senses into haywire as a 'panic mode' was triggered. The person who stood before Prussia had seemingly materialized right behind him, for he had not sensed the change in air pressure or any bodyheat of someone behind him. What should be physically impossible had just happened. His circuits strained to comprehend this new information.
A high-power laser pistol unfolded out of his opponent's armored hand. The pistol's construction took less than a second, but Prussia had become so hypersensitive that it might as well have taken a minute because Prussia sent that soldier cartwheeling to the floor in a single punch to the face. He was hoping to crack the helmet visor, but caused no visible damage. The pistol's construction was interrupted as it glitched for a moment in the palm of his opponent's hand before disappearing.
Undeterred, his opponent jumped to its feet and charged at Prussia. Clearly this would be a difficult fight, and Prussia had determined that the only way out was up to the planet's surface. He clung to the nearest rope and hauled himself up it. His opponent effortlessly reached the same height as him. A combat knife unfolded from the wrist, punching forward like a battering ram. The blade targeted Prussia, poised to strike. Prussia scanned his opponent for a weak spot. His eyes focused on what looked like a respirator pipe leading into the helmet. His arm lashed out while his hand clamped around the pipe.
The knife stopped moving, so did his opponent. Noticing the effectiveness of his move, Prussia twisted the pipe, puncturing it. A hiss could be heard as oxygen leaked out. The soldier looked at Prussia as he did so, and Prussia looked back at the helmet visor. The soldier let go of the rope a few seconds later, but Prussia held the now-broken oxygen pipe. It snapped in half and the soldier's limp body fell to the ground with a thud.
Prussia then climbed up fast as he could without looking back. When he reached the top of the huge rectangular hole he dug his fingers into the dry ground as he hauled himself out. He picked himself up, standing on two feet on the surface of Mars.