Colonel's hand did not tremble as he held the radio receiver. It was steady as steady could be. "Romeo, Uniform, November," he said.
"Are you sure?" General's voice. Colonel could hear his last hopes breaking.
"Zero has arrived," Colonel said with finality.
"…I see."
"I will hold him while you escape with the others," Colonel declared.
"And no one else is coming?"
"All I see outside the gates are Hunters. If any of our brothers are still alive, none of them have gotten here in time."
A sigh. "I understand. We'll begin final launch preps. We'll leave one shuttle for the Honor Guard."
"We won't need it," Colonel said. "Burn it."
"I know you can't come with us, Colonel, but the Honor Guard can."
"You're very thoughtful and considerate, General," Colonel said. "I am proud to have served under you."
"Colonel…"
"Romeo, Uniform, November," Colonel said again, and turned the radio off.
It was time to meet his destiny. It was shining so brightly. Even the negative emotions coming from Iris couldn't touch him now. It was so clear. So simple.
He was calm. At ease. His circuits were moving slowly, as if soaking in his final moments. The whole world around was waiting for him to take his place. He wasn't scared anymore, if he'd ever been. This was the moment he'd been created for.
He reached for his weapon. He knew Zero was reaching for his.
"Seventeenth will provide covering fire for Zeroth. Zero is in position to lead the charge and counter Colonel. Zeroth, begin your attack."
"Roger," said Rekir. He took stock of his situation. He was ready, the Zeroth was ready, the Seventeenth was ready, and they had a good plan. His danger sense was thrumming, but at a comfortable level, from general rather than specific threats. He understood why, and agreed with its assessment.
Time to end the war, then.
"Lux," he said, "cover us."
The reploid nodded, and hurled into the air a couple of custom, personal mechaniloids. They attracted fire immediately—the Honor Guard was a sharp bunch, for Repliforce—but just as quickly they started flashing, emitting painfully bright flashes in the direction of the weapons fire. The fire slackened. The heavy batteries of the Seventeenth began to boom and sizzle; the fire from the Honor Guard ceased altogether.
Rekir palmed a grenade. "Now," he said, and he moved.
Zero knew 'his' squad was charging elsewhere on the perimeter. It was hardly relevant.
Colonel was in front of him.
Blocking the gates to the spaceport, all by himself. As if he thought he could hold the Hunters back with sheer bravery and self-belief. The trouble was… Zero had seen that kind of bravery before. It had never held him back.
"Please, Zero," said Iris, sobbing over the radio. "Please…"
"Order me to stop," said Zero. "Please, order me to stop…"
She couldn't. He couldn't. Silence descended on the radio.
Zero had stopped running. He heard, distantly, the rising whine and rumble of powerful machines roused to action. Meaningless. Dismissed. He walked, at his own pace, towards his friend.
Now that was an exclusive club.
Step. Step. Step. Colonel never moved. Why would he? He was where he needed to be. Zero was sure that Colonel would move to get in his way if he tried to get around, to come into the base by some other route. Better to be direct, then. Better to save them both time and effort. They needed both for their battle.
Though if time was such a big deal, why was he walking?
Step. Step.
Into comfortable talking distance. Closer. Just outside melee range.
Stop.
"Thank you for coming, Zero," said Colonel.
"Why?" said Zero.
"With your help, I will enter into glory," Colonel said. "We will carve my name into history, together. You will help me achieve immortality."
"Immortality?" said Zero. "If you try to stop me, you'll die."
"Of course," said Colonel. "I've known what my fate would be since we declared independence. My destiny was pre-determined."
X would say there's no such thing, Zero knew. He grasped for that dim, distant idea. "You could run."
"I have to stay in comms range of Iris, remember?" Colonel said, tapping his head. "Conjoined brains. Where Repliforce is going, I cannot follow. Instead… I am Leonidas."
Zero tried to step at an angle, as if to move around Colonel. Colonel angrily shifted, barred his way. "I am Crockett!" he bellowed. "I am Saigo! I am the Tin Can Sailors! This far, Zero, and no farther."
"I'll kill you," Zero said. "There's no glory waiting for you. Just oblivion."
"Tell that to the French Foreign Legion," Colonel said smugly.
"You'll make Iris cry," Zero said.
"Her fate was ordained the moment we were activated," Colonel shot back. "The same as mine. Robotics is the science of creating a being that serves a purpose. A robot's fate is part of its design. I am at peace with that."
"She doesn't think so. She's not at peace. You can hear her, can't you? You can hear her crying."
That just seemed to touch off Colonel's temper again. "Rome! Cameron! Rorke's Drift! Bastogne!"
Zero shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what those are."
With a snarl, Colonel ignited his saber. "Fight me, Zero. To the death, this time. No more draws. This was going to be my end, one way or another. Make it a worthy one."
Zero thought of all the Mavericks he'd killed. He thought of how they lived on only as faded copies of themselves in the combat simulator. "This is stupid," he said.
Enraged, Colonel charged.
Enervated as he was, Zero still had the reflexes to block the attack. Sabers crackled against each other, energy trying to slice energy and failing. "Familiar yet?" Colonel said with a savage smile. He put his weight behind his saber, hoping to follow the usual pattern and push Zero off balance.
It sparked anger inside of Zero. The first time he'd ever thought of being charitable had led this fool to presume...
X had warned him that this would happen.
Anger and embarrassment coursed through Zero, animated his pseudo-muscles. He applied a greater portion of his true strength, and held Colonel to a standstill.
Surprise flickered across Colonel's face. He put even more of his strength and weight into the balance. Zero matched him for a moment, to prove he could, then stepped out of the way. Colonel stumbled, barely retaining his feet; Zero could have hit him twice before he readied.
"Do you see, yet?" Zero said. "Get out of my way!"
"Death before dishonor!" Colonel roared, and swept towards Zero. Zero didn't wait. He stepped in, lunging low, well below where Colonel could threaten him. A sharp blow from the butt of his saber sent Colonel reeling; Zero's momentum carried him past and out.
"Don't turn your back on me," Colonel growled, and lunged to skewer Zero. In a flurry of blonde hair, Zero whirled around the tip of Colonel's saber. His reach, though shorter than Colonel's, was still enough to bite into Colonel's leg.
Colonel recovered clumsily. The wound wasn't much, but it did rob him of some strength. "Stand down," Zero said.
Colonel didn't answer. He raised his saber for a downwards sweep.
Zero parried it effortlessly and replied. For a moment Colonel's face lit up with hope- this was more familiar, a straight duel of swordsmanship and skill. He tried to restore the familiar patterns, go on the offensive, impose himself on Zero. It lasted all of three exchanges before he found himself desperately fending off a lashing thrust. Before he could even think of further aggression, Zero was pressing his advantage. Each move was faster than the one before it; with each clash Colonel fell further and further behind, until bare point defense was all he could manage, and that not well.
A feint forced Colonel to overreact. Zero pounced; the blur of his saber made lightning seem slow. A superficial slash across Colonel's chest stung him; as Zero disengaged he cut deeply into Colonel's other leg. Colonel staggered, no longer able to stand properly but too proud to kneel or support himself.
"Now do you see?" Zero demanded.
"So you held me in contempt," Colonel spat. "All this time you disguised your true strength. You lied to me every time we sparred. You have no honor at all!"
"Do you know how hard it was for me to do that? To hold back?" Zero said. "I was trying to… I don't know, help you. Be nice, or… something." He shook his head in confusion. "Even now! I've never offered to let someone live. Do you get how hard this is for me?"
"Yes, I can see you struggling as you cut me to ribbons," Colonel scoffed. "Keep your eyes on me or I'll make you pay."
"You can't win," Zero said.
"You still don't get it," Colonel said. "It's not about whether I win or lose. It's about how I live, and how I die… still swinging, right to the bitter end."
"I've heard those words before," Zero said. "A hundred times, from a hundred defiant Mavericks. They're dead now, and I'm still here. They were wrong, just like you. Winning is the only thing that matters."
Colonel forced himself to stand straight and cocked his head arrogantly. "If you think that, then you're not the warrior I respected. You're something… less, no matter how strong you are." He laughed humorlessly. "I suppose we never understood each other after all."
Zero had no rebuttal. He had no defense. Understanding people wasn't one of his functions.
Colonel raised his saber. "Come on, Maverick Hunter," he sneered.
Zero closed his eyes. Colonel had to know what he was asking. There were no other choices for Zero. No other responses. He gathered himself. "As you wish… Maverick."
I'm sorry, Iris, they both thought.
The spaceport's speakers blared a warning—crescendoing and rising in pitch, and then hovering at a high, dissonant peak.
Zero's eyes snapped open, his arm snapped up, and his buster fired.
It caught Colonel completely off-guard, for Zero had never once shown him that weapon. The two shots caused Colonel to stagger backwards, and Zero chased the plasma in. Blindly Colonel lashed out with his saber. A blow from Zero knocked the saber out of Colonel's hand, up into the air. When Colonel looked up to try and track it, he took his eyes off of Zero.
Zero used that moment to step inside Colonel's grasp and bury his beam saber in the reploid's chest.
Colonel's saber clattered to the ground out of reach.
Colonel managed to sneer despite being impaled. "Even someone without honor... can deliver me to glory."
"I told you I would win," Zero said unhappily.
"You didn't win," Colonel replied. "I did. You don't get it. But then... you wouldn't."
Behind him, there was a roar—not just loud, but vast. A shuttle appeared from behind the spaceport's buildings, clawing for the sky, lighting up the world as it soared upwards and upwards.
"Repliforce will live on amongst the stars," Colonel said. "My sacrifice guarantees it. Eternal glory is mine. Tell Iris that her brother died happily." He smiled. "Glory to Repliforce, now and forever!"
His body blew itself apart.
The explosion embraced Zero. He was lost in it.
A piercing shriek tore through the watch floor.
Iris hit the floor like a bag of scrap. Her limbs flailed senselessly, crashing against the floor, the wall, and the consoles around. Her mouth and eyes couldn't be any wider open. The shriek carried on for ten ear-splitting seconds before an automatic override cut it out. Her spasming continued, unaffected.
"Don't touch her!" Alia ordered, fending off the bystanders that were approaching too closely. "Don't try to stop a seizure, you'll hurt her and yourself both. I've got a medic coming. Focus on the mission!"
"How cold," Grant observed.
"This is compassion," Alia said over her shoulder. "The medic can reset her physical systems. None of us can. We would hurt her more than help… hold on. Let me put this on speaker. Rekir, Base, say again."
"Base, Rekir. I have shuttle liftoff. Repeat, I have shuttle liftoff—woah! One moment."
It was several seconds before his voice returned. "Sorry. One of those Honor Guards wasn't as dead as he looked. He is now, though."
"Confirm shuttle liftoff," Alia said calmly.
Over the radio came a rumbling sound, like a herd of boulders rolling down a ramp. "Confirmed," came a distant-sounding Rekir's voice. Alia knew he'd swapped to the radio's main transceiver rather than use the handset. It was usually used when Hunters had no hands to spare, but it was good at conveying atmospherics, too.
"This is Commander Grant," the human said, cutting in on the radio. "Find Zero. Take Zeroth and Seventeenth Squads into the spaceport. Find out if there are any other shuttles left."
"Base, Rekir, roger."
"So that they can follow?" Alia asked.
"That's right," said Grant.
"Sir," piped in Double, "I've been working with the Seventeenth. They've been in combat for hours without a break. They're low on energy and ammunition."
"Then resupply them," Grant said.
"On it," said Double. With that he discarded his headphones and scurried off of the watch floor.
"Respectfully, sir," said Alia, undistracted, "where could Repliforce go that we can't reach without a shuttle? Unless… unless you think they wanted to take over Eurasia."
"Not Eurasia," Grant said grimly.
"Not…" Alia began, then cocked her head. "Permission granted," she said, then looked back to Grant more brightly. "Sir," she said, "X is on approach."
"Sir!" Rekir called.
Zero didn't move, or make any sign that he had heard. Rekir jogged up to his boss, alertly glancing around as he moved. No, no danger he could see. The Honor Guard had held their positions tenaciously, and died in them. None of them had thought of falling back- which meant that, by now, none of them were alive. Everyone else had made it to the shuttle and taken off. There was nothing left of Repliforce here.
But Zeroth would need Zero to give chase to the survivors. "Sir," Rekir called again, much closer this time. He could make out differences in his boss' usual appearance. He looked mussed. He was standing stock-still—not unusual—but he looked slack, somehow. Typical Zero was always slightly tense, always ready to spring into combat at the first indication of danger. This Zero felt spent, like there was less of him than there usually was.
It didn't help that he had ash and char in a thin coat over his front, and had apparently not moved much since getting this dusting.
There was a blackened lump at Zero's feet. What was left of some dead enemy, Rekir supposed, though there wasn't enough left to tell what it had been. The explosion had spared little. That grade of blast at that range would have severely inconvenienced Rekir. It didn't seem to have done anything to Zero.
Anything physical, Rekir decided.
"Boss," he said, quietly. "Are you alright?"
"I can't raise Iris," the warbot replied.
"I'll try when we get back to a radio," Rekir promised.
"I think I killed her," Zero said.
"That wasn't her, was it?" asked Rekir, pointing at the blast's epicenter.
"No," said Zero. "Just a fool who wanted to live forever."
"Then he shouldn't have fought you," Rekir said. "Duh."
"I don't understand anything," Zero said in tones even Rekir had never heard before.
Unnerved, Rekir tried to refocus on the mission. "Are you damaged?"
"No."
"Then we have to move on. Base wants us to see if there are any other operational shuttles. We need to follow what's left of Repliforce."
"To make sure they don't live on," Zero said.
Rekir knew there was meaning there—meaning he didn't understand. He'd long-ago given up on trying to know what Zero was thinking, but at least he'd been able to predict Zero a little. Not anymore. Not since Iris.
Who was… dead?
Even Zero deserved pity. "I'll take Zeroth into the spaceport," Rekir said. "Seventeenth is joining us. Come along when you're ready."
He gave Zero a chance to follow, but the squad leader made no move. Rekir went on ahead of him. There were, he reflected, few things more dangerous than prying into Zero's privacy.
The medic was two-thirds of the way back to the medical bay when the flailing began anew.
He hefted the fallen Operator off of his shoulder and tried to set her down gently, but she twisted and surged out of his grip. Alarmed, he backed up a step. To his surprise, the Operator didn't fall. She swayed, staggered, and slumped, and for all of that she stayed upright. Her back was arched and her head was hanging down so her face was out of sight, but she kept her feet.
"Are you okay?" the medic asked.
There was an impossible laugh in reply—a laugh that jittered across octaves and intonations, one that conveyed no humor or fellowship at all. Slowly, the Operator's back straightened, until at last her face could be seen again.
Her eyes were over-dilated and manic. Her smile was an Escher painting.
"What do you think?" asked Iris.
And then the medic's world came to an end.
Next time: Betrayal