Author's Note: I think it's time we started the proper story, don't you? Glad you agree. The relevance of the prologue will become clear eventually. I hope. So...who ordered some Scout Squared?
I've done some artwork for this chapter, since it just had to happen for reasons. You can find it at the usual place: sanctuscecidit deviantart com . This website likes to remove urls for other sites because it's mean.
Saving Private Soldierbot
Chapter One: Cold War
"We're fascinated with robots because they are reflections of ourselves." – Ken Gold.
Location classified, Alaska, January 1973
Their breaths wheezed in their throats as they struggled through the silent snow, muttering and scolding each other to keep going, keep moving. One of them fell, and the other hauled him to his feet without wasting time on talking. Snow caked over their clothing and then melted , soaking through the layers and removing any thermal qualities their poorly-chosen winter wear had ever had.
It was so easy to forget how unpleasant cold really was. It was a beautiful, clear winter's day, and the light was scorchingly bright against the snow, making the two men's eyes water. Whenever the wind blew, the cold squeezed in a little harder, burying its bony fingers into their cheekbones and fingers. Their breath flew out in puffs and settled on their black hair, forming a halo of ice on their tangled locks. The cold wasn't just...cold, not any more. It was pain.
They struggled on, moving surprisingly fast even with sodden clothes and the start of hypothermia. This had been a bad, bad place to make a stand. They were so vulnerable in this open ground- two tiny dark dots against the pure white. Easy to spot from the sky.
Like so many of the twin Scouts' ideas, it had seemed like a good idea at the time, Rick thought, panting for breath. He and Bobby, his identical clone, had been lucky enough to be able to pick the place for the final confrontation with their enemy. It was only now that he had realised that the open snow meant they left tracks everywhere they went.
"Fuck this shit." Bobby muttered as they staggered onwards.
Their clothes were now just bags of barely melted ice, wicking the heat away from their bodies, and Rick began to realise that he was starting to feel really, seriously cold. He had heard of people getting white or blue fingers in icy weather, but his were bright red and pulsed angrily with pain. That wasn't good. This whole situation wasn't good.
Their only possible salvation was a line of darkness a quarter of a mile off- a patch of scrubby trees. They would be difficult to follow or find there.
"We can hide in the trees." He panted. "Once we get there, we'll be ok."
"Yeah, you said that before, asshat." Bobby replied. They tried to force their aching legs into something like their normal speed. No good. Rick couldn't even feel his soaking feet.
"You think our toes'll drop off?" He murmured, pulling them both into a wobbly sprint.
"Hell no." Rick muttered, staring at the line of woodland. Closer now.
"I can hear somethin'." Bobby said, twisting nervously. Rick realised he was right- there was a distant roaring. "Damn. Run!"
Somehow, from somewhere, they found a boost of energy. They had to reach the trees. If they didn't- it was all over.
"He's gonna find us. Those tracks...he'll find us." Rick moaned. He could see the patterns of the bark on some of the white-stemmed trees of the woodland. So close.
"We can make a stand in there." Bobby said, pulling them along. "We can..."
"C'mon." Rick forced his body into one last, final effort. It was going to cost him, but he wrenched his complaining, aching legs into a sprint. The roaring sound was getting stronger, carrying far in the clear air. Just a few more yards. A few more. He glanced back and could see a sparkling star in the sky as a metal body caught the sunlight...Fuck you, robot. You're not getting us. Not today. Not ever.
It was then that disaster struck.
The two men had always been happier in cities than countryside, and they had not realised that when you had trees, you had fallen branches and logs. If it had been snowing heavily, these would be hidden- and just perfect for breaking ankles.
Rick's feet were so numb he didn't even feel the branch as it snagged around his foot and made his ankle twist up and sideways. As he fell, something went krrrsschhht inside his leg, and snow filled his mouth and caked against his face.
"Rick!" Bobby's hands grabbed at him to pull him upright, but as soon as he tried to stand again, his foot just collapsed under him and a sharp jab of something that wasn't quite pain jolted through his leg and into his spine as he fell into the snow again.
He pushed himself onto his back and looked up at Bobby's shocked face, but all he could do was gasp for breath as if all the oxygen was gone. He looked down and saw that his foot was twisted sideways unnaturally.
"That's gotta hurt." Rick said with a mutter of stupid laughter. Maybe it was the cold, but he truly could not feel it. He clung to that, knowing that when it started to hurt, it would not stop for a long time.
"We were so close." Bobby said, holding on protectively to his clone and looking up at the sparkling star that had turned into a winged humanoid figure as it got closer. It swung back and forth, obviously still searching for them, but then stopped, hovered for a moment, and dived down at the two men, a trail of smoke drifting lazily behind it. Frost glittered on its polished metal body as it shot towards them, arrow-straight, eyes glowing violet.
"You could always run." Rick suggested, looking up at Bobby with a smile. He smiled tremulously back.
"Screw you, Rick. Together, always, right?"
"Screw you too, bro." Rick said. Bobby put his hands on the fallen man's shoulders and squeezed.
The roar of the flying robot's jets filled the air as it put on a burst of speed and came in low, blasting snow away behind it, its wings narrowed down to tiny blades. The face was expressionless as always, implacable and unchanging. As it got close, it soared up and then floated gently down, landing on the snow with a crunch, metal feet sinking in deep. It paced slowly and cautiously towards the Scouts.
"Found ya! You lose, you...losers." Scoutbot said triumphantly, his weapons- two snowballs- ready to fly from his jointed fingers. He drew back his arms to let fly the precision-engineered icy weaponry, and then dropped it as he looked at Rick. "Fuck, what happened, bro?"
Rick suddenly hissed as a nasty stab of pain ran up his leg. Even with the cold, his leg was starting to feel burning hot and he could feel sweat beading on his forehead. The world was rapidly narrowing down to his burning leg and the cold. Black spots danced in front of his eyes. Vaguely, he thought that that was probably a bad thing.
"It's his ankle. Broken, I think." Bobby explained.
"No shit? I'd never have guessed." Scoutbot replied sarcastically. "I thought it was supposed to look like that. I'll go get help. One of the Medics can fix this. Problem is..."
"Katie's gonna find out." Bobby finished with a groan. "Bro, we're gonna be in the doghouse- and on the sofa-for a few days."
Rick managed a murmur in reply, and Scoutbot pushed Bobby out of the way and looked more closely at him, his glowing violet eyes swaying and making Rick feel dizzy and sick.
"He doesn't look good. You keep an eye on him, I'll get help." Scoutbot said. His wings flicked out, but he paused. "Is it cold?"
"What the fuck? Of course it's cold, dumbass."
"How'm I supposed to know?" Scoutbot replied peevishly. He walked a short distance away and swept aside some of the snow with his arms before lifting off to hover in the air and blast the uncovered ground with the jets in his feet. "There, that'll be dry at least. Gotta be better, right?"
"C'mon, Rick." Bobby hauled the barely conscious man into the patch of scrubby ground.
"I'll be back." Scoutbot called, before shooting off into the sunlight once again. The robot turned into a dot, then a tiny sparkle, and then vanished.
"Bobby?" Rick murmured, his eyes opened again.
"Yeah?" Bobby sneezed and rubbed his nose.
"I think we lost the snowball fight."
Scoutbot soared off in the direction of the old TF Industries base, firing his jets as hot as he dared. It made his joints rattle and he wondered if he was going to fall apart, but he had to get there fast. If he didn't... well, Rick had looked really bad. Fuck it, they had been having such fun as well! A rare day off and this happened. To hell with it all!
As he flew, Scoutbot planned his course of action. Go to the old comms room in TF Industries HQ and signal the Institute. Get help. Normally he loved flying, but right now, he didn't feel any kind of enjoyment at all. Two of his few friends were in trouble, bad trouble, and it was partly his fault. And...he had to tell everyone how it had happened. Crap. He was going to get chewed out again, wasn't he? And with so many clones, he'd get the same lecture over and over from people who thought they were being original. The thought of it made him want to puke. Not that he could. But he would have done if he could.
Doesn't matter. He thought determinedly as he got closer to the grey, blocky building, flying over the razor wire fence and the sign that read 'Timmy Fox's Happy Winter Funland. (Trespassers will be shot)'.
He flicked his wings out to create more drag, and shut off his jet engines. His feet made tiny tink tink noises as the metal cooled down, and there was a hiss and a cloud of steam as he landed in the deep snow. He ran through the double doors and into the deserted building. His footsteps clanked on the cold tiles as he dashed down the dull, industrial corridors to the comms room. As he reached the radio panel, he thumped his jointed metal hand down on the controls to open up a channel to the Institute, far away in the Bahamas.
"Hey, anybody there? Help! We got bad shit happenin' here. Uhhh, what's that they say in films? Mayday!"
There was no reply except for a hiss of white noise.
"Hey, listen up! Whoever's there, stop fucking around and get over and answer the radio. Rick's injured. Mayday, we need help!"
A pop, and a whistle.
"Woah, slow down, pardner. I forgot this thing was even there. Made me jump outta my skin when your voice came outta the speaker. What're y'all doin' way over there?"
"Uh...training exercises." Scoubot replied. "Bobby, Rick and I were, uh, testing our ability to move quickly in snowy conditions."
"You were, huh? Well, ain't that a thing."
"Whatever, hardhat." Scoutbot replied in irritation. "Look, Rick's hurt- broke his leg, and they're out there in the snow. They look dead cold. Dude, they're gonna die out there!"
"Ok, ok, keep your bolts on. I'll grab a rescue team and come out there. I think Medic Albrecht and Tiny Vlad are free."
"Uh..ok." Scoutbot groaned inwardly. "Tiny Vlad is gonna be so useful."
"You know those two don't go anywhere without each other. We'll be there quick as we can. Engineer Jed out."
...Sound event recorded...
...Leaving Hibernation Mode...
...WARNING: Power Low...
...Sound event recorded...
...WARNING: Failed to connect to network...Retrying...
...WARNING: Failed to connect to network...Retrying...
...WARNING: Failed to connect to network...Retrying...
...WARNING: Failed to connect to network...Retrying...
...ERROR: Connection failed after four retries...
...Sound event recorded...
...Session Timed out after 15 minutes idle...
...Entering Hibernation Mode...
Bobby couldn't think about anything other than how cold he was. He'd kill to get warm. Every single fibre of his being was telling him to find somewhere warm. He wanted to walk off across the snow and...and...do what? He didn't know. The wind had dropped, but it didn't seem to make any difference. He and Rick huddled together, trying to share some heat.
The air temperature seemed to be falling as the shadows got longer and the light changed into that strange leached-out grey of fading sunlight over snow. A black and white bird flew over head, its call echoing in the still air of dusk.
The cold pressed in like a physical force, crushing and stabbing the two Scouts. Their wet clothing creaked as it froze and shattered.
"Should've lit a fire." Bobby muttered.
"Mm." Rick murmured, his eyes closed. Bobby looked at his face in concern. He was sickly pale, and his eyes seemed sunk in deep shadow.
"Hey, bro! Bro! Don't fall asleep. Stay awake." He shook Rick slightly, and then batted his face. His double screwed up his face in annoyance and opened his eyes.
"M'tired." Rick muttered.
"No!" Bobby said, jolting the injured man a little. He saw Rick's twisted ankle jiggle with the rough movement, but Rick did not react. He sighed and hugged him closer.
"We'll get outta this, bro." He felt his eyes go unfocused and he blinked. He realised he could no longer feel his legs or arms. He could feel the same aching tiredness Rick had felt creeping over him. He remembered, long before becoming a merc, getting a bat to the side of his head. It felt very like this- everything was slipping into a dream, as if he was drunk. All he wanted to do was sleep.
At least it was getting warmer now. He wasn't shivering as much. That was good.
Sleep.
"Hey." A mechanical voice called.
"Yo, asshat."
Smell of kerosene and hot metal.
"Ah, damn it."
Pressure on his shoulder. Shaken.
A metal hand slapped his face and he blinked and looked up dully into two purple stars. There was a golden light. Fire? Burning! He struggled to remove his gloves, but found his hands held tightly. Something painfully hot was forced to his lips and he tried to turn away. Just like his hands, his head was held in a strong grip. His neck was so stiff he couldn't even try to move away.
"Drink it, jerk."
"Ssss." His tongue was lazy in his mouth and refused to work, but he pried his eyes open to see Scoutbot leaning over him. The liquid spiked and ached in his throat and he spluttered.
"Help's coming. You're gonna be ok." Scoutbot said. He looked down and shook his head. "Fuck me, we're in trouble though. They're gonna rake us over the coals. Like, we are in deep shit. Damn, I hope they fuckin' hurry."
There was a distant explosion and Scoutbot's head snapped round.
"You hear that? That's help comin'."
"Rr...rrr'k?"
"Rick's...he's ok. Yeah, he'll be ok."
"B'llshhh..." Bobby muttered. Scoutbot tipped the mug and made him drink more of the burning liquid.
There was another explosion and a spark of white and gold soared over the treetops accompanied by a distant scream that tried to sound more angry than afraid, but didn't quite succeed. Bobby stared, trying to make his eyesight work properly, but he was pretty certain it was two figures, jointed by a glowing string of white light. As it got closer, he realised he was right, and Soldier landed neatly besides the two Scouts and put his rocket launcher down just as Medic Albrecht shot past and landed face first in a snow drift.
"Verdammt Schnee...dumm Quickfix...Scheisse!" He said in an angry voice muffled by a mouthful of snow. A gloved hand waved about and he pried himself upright and shook the snow off himself. "Vhat have I told you about careful trajectories vhen I am using zhe Quickfix, Soldier?"
In Chapter Two: Help has arrived, but there is a bigger problem looming than mere threat of death: Miss Pauling is not pleased.