Saving Private Soldierbot Chapter 9: Stealing the Rules, a team fortress 2 fanfic

Author's note: Here's a fun fact for you: you really can break into a car with a coat hanger, some insulating tape, wire strippers and a set of pliers, as Scoutbot mentioned last chapter. I've not done this. Nope. Totally not. *cough* Well, ok...let's just say you learn some odd skills as a duty manager of a large store. However, the good news is that modern cars have microchipped keys and electronic starters and it mostly won't work on any model built later than about 2000.

How do you jack a car this way, you ask? Well, oddly enough, I'm not going to tell you. Here, have some story instead.

Saving Private Soldierbot

Chapter Seven: Stealing the rules

Now this is getting just plain annoying.

Dell Conagher knew where everything was in his workshop. Always. Everything had to be in order or he'd not be able to rest until it was. Some engineers he had known were happy, for instance, to keep all their screws in a big box and then rummage whenever they needed. Such sloppiness absolutely infuriated Dell, though. If he wanted, for instance, a self-tapping three quarter inch screw with a round head and a Torx 2 screw drive, he damn well knew exactly where he he'd find out without rummaging about endlessly in a spiky tetanus-trap of old pointy bits of metal.

Until now.

The paint he had wanted to use to create a new colour mix for his new hand prosthetic was missing. It was just plain not there. There were other things missing, too- a couple of power cords, a wire stripper, his favourite long-nose pliers. He gave an angry sigh and went to flick on his radio while he tried to figure this out.

Someone had stolen his goddamn radio!

His metal fist slammed into the worktop so hard he dented it, and he spat out several curses that would have surprised anyone used to his polite and mild mannered ways. Nobody was allowed to mess with his workshop, not even the other Engineers. They all knew and respected that, since they shared the same jealous attitude towards their working space. Sure, they borrowed things from each other all the time, but they knew that they had to ask first. The last time anyone had taken something without asking from an Engineer in the Institute- in that case, Soldier had taken a jerry can of gas from Engineer Connor- the resultant outburst of violence had kept Medic busy for an entire week.

Dell forced his robotic hand to let go of the bench, ignoring the finger-shaped dents he had left in the metal, and made himself think. So, who's been in here recently? Well, that was easy enough to find out. He strode over to a cupboard and opened it, revealing a television, flicking it on and then rewinding the tape drive sat next to it. Whoever the nasty little thief was, he'd reckoned without Dell's motion-sensitive cameras, hadn't he?

Lips pursed, he watched what his video had recorded, brow furrowing in puzzlement as he watched Scoutbot sneak around his lab, looking in cupboards and stealing the missing items. What in Sam-Hill is the li'l metal fella playing at? He couldn't make any sense of the items stolen- it seemed almost random. Watching the tape, though, it was obvious that the robot knew exactly what items he was after, no more, no less. This wasn't just some random crime. He was up to something.

Dell sat down slowly and drummed his fingers along the bench. He could live without the stolen items, true, but it was the principle of the thing. He had two choices: he could go and kick Scoutbot's ass into the next century, or wait and see what the metal man was up to. Anger and curiosity waged war in his head.

"Dag nab it." He muttered, taking his hardhat off and running a hand over his bald head. He did want to know what Scoutbot was up to, but he also wanted to make sure the robot knew that he never stole things from his workshop.

A thought struck him, and he chuckled sourly to himself. How did you punish a robot? Remove his batteries? Take off his limbs? That seemed pretty extreme for a petty theft. He frowned, and clenched his metal hand. In fact, short of dismembering him, was there anything they could do to stop Scoutbot doing exactly what he wanted, when he wanted?

Perhaps a little chat was in order. He was good at little chats.

"Hey, Eagle, wake up." Scoutbot said, dumping his newly acquired items on the bench.

...Sound event recorded...

...Waking from hibernation mode...

...Power at 45%...

...WARNING: Failed to connect to network...Retrying...

...ERROR: Connection failed after four retries...

...Name Unknown came back!...

...I am happy...

"Halt, friend or... or..." Eagle's voice stuttered to an uncertain stop. "Name Unknown has returned."

"Yeah, ten outta ten for observation, pal." Scoutbot said drily. "Look, I got some stuff for you."

"You have things."

"Sure do. I, uh, borrowed some crap from Engie. I reckon he owes me, right? So, I got some power cables so you don't have to be on that shitty battery power. Means you can stay on as long as you want."

"Power usage is specified by read-only algorithms." Eagle replied.

"Screw that." Scoutbot replied easily, rolling out the thick cables and then hefting up a large black metal box with cooling fins. "Shit, this thing's heavy."

"What is the heavy shit?" Eagle asked curiously.

"Tranformer. If I got it right, it'll let you use mains power. If I didn't, uh...well, it's gonna work anyway. Bound to. Guess I gotta do it fast or you'll shut down again, right? Fuck, like I understand this stuff. Most I ever did was jackin'cars...Hey, I know! I'll connect the transformer to the battery and your power at the same time. The battery'll be fried, but you won't switch off. Sound cool?" Scoutbot padded off and plugged the transformer into a large socket on the wall.

"I will have power?"

"Yeah, that's it." Scoutbot grabbed the two crocodile clips attached to the transformer and clipped them like a daisy chain onto the clips already on the battery- and then leapt back quickly.

A massive bang and flash, followed by the stink of ozone...didn't happen. The transformer hummed slightly. Scoutbot carefully released the joined clips from the battery.

"Phew." Scoutbot said. "So, how does it feel?"

"Diagnostic: Power at 100%, stable. Warning: Diagnostic may be faulty; no fluctuation in power registered."

"Whatever." Scoutbot said airily. "I guess it worked then. Cool!"

"My power can't fail?" Eagle asked.

"That's the idea. Now, I got some things for ya, bro. Look at this!" Scoutbot produced a small, bright red tin. "Red paint. You like red, so how about I paint you?"

"Yes! Red is a colour I like. I am excited!" Eagle replied, his voice getting louder.

"Jeez, you're like a toddler." Scoutbot said with a laugh, patting the head fondly. "So, sit still...uh, you know what I mean..." He took a brush, dipped it in the paint and clumsily sloshed the paint over the metal head in front of him. "This is gonna be awesome. Huh, maybe I should change my colour. What do you think?"

Eagle was silent for a moment, and Scoutbot thought he hadn't been listening, then he spoke. "Name Unknown likes green."

"Yeah I do!" Scoutbot said with a pleased laugh, painting a stripe down Eagle's helmet. "You remembered that?"

"Name Unknown told me it liked green."

"*He*, dude. I'm a guy."

"Error: Robots do not possess gender or reproductive abilities."

"Yeah, Solly's told me that a load of times. Well, not in those words, ya know? He's an asshat. Fuck him."

"Error: Name Unknown does not possess reproductive abilities and cannot..."

"Jeez! No, it's, like, a figure of speech, ok? Damn." Scoutbot snorted with laughter. "You know what? You're good company. There, I'm done. Wanna see?"

"Yes."

Scoutbot held up a mirror, and Eagle looked into it silently. The paint was garishly bright and streaking, obviously not designed to be applied to metal, and the blue glow from Eagle's eyes clashed horribly with it.

"So, what do ya think?"

"I am red." Eagle said quietly. "No one else looks like this. Looks like...me."

"You know what? That right there- that's what it's all about." Scoutbot said eagerly. "The world wants us, wants everyone, robots and humans, to fit in little boxes, all neat and tidy. They want us to be obey, just do what we're told. Follow all the little rules that make us fuckin' boring. I say, screw that. I got my own life and my own shit I want to get done."

"I...I..." Eagle stammered to a halt. "Error: This unit's processing ability has been compromised. Logical routines are functioning outside accepted parameters. Recommended action: Decommision this unit."

"Hell no! Listen to me." Scoutbot leaned forward intently. "You're thinkin' for yourself. First time ever, right? That's not a crime. Hardhat- my Maker- let me do what I want."

"I... don't...want..." Eagle said slowly, his voice pausing and filling with static. The blue light from under the metal helmet started to dim. "Error: Logical failure. Faulty unit failsafes engaged: Unit shutting down."

"No!" Scoutbot shouted, racing over and picking up the head, still tacky with paint. "You don't have to do it! Don't shut down! That shit Gray Mann put in your processor is all junk!"

"So...sorry..." Eagle murmured.

"Don't you dare give up!" Scoutbot said, shaking the head roughly. His voice cracked. "You're not allowed to give up! Stay with me!"

"Thank...y..."

"You're Eagle! You're you! Don't leave me alone!" He stopped suddenly, realising what he had just said and, as Eagle's light faded to nothing, the horrible truth he had finally admitted to himself.

He was alone.

There was no one like him.

No one lived in the same world he did.

Except Eagle.

He put the silent robot down carefully and wiped the red paint off his hands. He slumped into a chair and stared into midair. He did not cry. He was a tough dude, and tough dudes didn't cry. Robots didn't cry. So, he did not cry. Could not cry. Fuck.

He sat there for a while longer. He wasn't sure how long. The world seemed to drain of colour as he sat there. Everyone was grey and boring. He kept hoping that Eagle might suddenly reboot, just as dumb as ever or maybe a little smarter. The robot stayed silent though. Dead. Eventually, he thumped a fist against a bench with a metallic clang and stood up.

He trudged out of the room slowly, not looking back. He stepped onto the teleport and whisked himself back to the Institute.

"...is not a valid use of our resources, Tavish!" He heard Miss Pauling say as he stepped through the teleporter. She sounded angry, as she so often did.

"Ach, what do ye know about it? Ye're a wee bairn only just out 'a nappies! I tell ye, people are clammering for strawberry flavoured whiskey! I'm an expert on the water o'life, I am. Ye're just a teetotaller, what do ye ken aboot any of it?"

"Now you're just being Scottish to annoy me. I said no, and I meant...Scoutbot? Are you alright?" The robot just waved her away dismissively and walked past.

He walked slowly out of the main building and down to the pebble beach. There was a murmur of voices as he walked through the palm trees and he realised that Jacques wasn't alone.

He shrugged, and continued on anyway. Perhaps a bit of distraction would be a good thing.

It wasn't like he had anything better to do.

In Chapter Eight: It's time to meet Sniper Lawrence, and Scoutbot realises he has forgotten something very important...