"Scatter!" Rocke said, jerking away as an electric prod slashed at his head. The artificial soul inhabiting the robot glared at him with utter malevolence with its single, unblinking mechanical eye.
"I've been looking forward to this!" Phú's sweet, cheery voice said. "Don't get involved, Halkken. This worm is mine!"
"Okay," a young man with a mop of red hair said, offering a thumbs-up. He'd been hiding behind a broken wall before he spoke. From his sidearm and suit, Rocke supposed he was a detective.
Instead of focusing on Rocke, Halkken aimed his laser pistol at Kallane, who was desperately seeking cover behind a supply crate.
"Kallane!" Rocke screamed in alarm, his friend screaming as a bolt scorched her left arm, her face twisting in pain.
His other ally wasn't doing much better, fleeing as Famus's riding crop sizzled with electricity, a loud crack resounding through the night as it missed by a hair. Rojan cursed as four more human guards appeared, opening fire on him. But the man was nimble, using a nearby cage as cover. Ottomon screamed in fright as bolts zipped past their heads. Rojan fired back, downing two guards in rapid succession.
"I'd worry more about yourself, Rocke," Phú said, her massive mechanical arms aiming to either shock him into submission or crush his skull. "Another rescue attempt? Haven't we proved the futility of such an action? You can't oppose the UOP. Nothing can."
But Rocke only gritted his teeth, his gun firing bolts into the metal monstrosity's chassis. But, as he feared, his attacks only scorched the armor— not causing any serious damage. It left him at Phú's mercy.
"And the best part? Your efforts are useless. You think I can't break the deactivation code and fight you at the same time? Sorry, but I can! Pointless! Oh, so useless!" Phú broke into mechanical laughter, a painful, high-pitched squeal.
An Ottomon man screamed as a stray shot struck him, burning a hole in his torso. Rojan darted around sparse cover, avoiding the guards chasing after his life. But innocent people were getting hurt as the guards shot after him.
Rocke made a snap decision. As Phú ranted at him, Rocke clicked his communicator three times. Without time to talk, it was his next best option. He only hoped that Matthias and Nitao would act quickly on the desperate distress call. His weapon continued to thunder, trying to destroy his attacker's eye stalk. It was his best chance to disable her. But it missed, blasting scorched marks into Phú's hardened armor. His weapon clicked empty—the guard robot barely damaged.
Behind the single glowing eye, Phú beamed a gloating smile. Rocke howled as a metal fist struck his chest, coughing as it knocked the wind out of him. The guard robot raised its electric prod to shock him senseless, but he somehow evaded it with a roll. He threw aside his weapon, knowing he wouldn't have time to reload it. Still, without a weapon, how could he combat this metal monster?
"Yes, fight harder! It makes this more fun!" Phú crowed, drawing out Rocke's torment as she continued to taunt him. She had him dead to rights, and she knew it.
Still, Rocke gritted his teeth as his breath returned, eyes darting around for any sort of avenue. He'd be damned if he allowed this psycho AI to win. Then a glint of metal caught his eye, sparkling from a nearby window from the shack.
What the—? A cache of weapons? Many were illegal too, banned for excellent reasons. The warden proved the validity of these laws as a group of Ottomon screamed— a beam lancing through their cage, bodies collapsing in severed chunks as the ray sliced through anything it touched, flesh or metal. Famus had abandoned his whip for something deadlier when his previous weapon had proven ineffective.
"You're quick, traitorous scum," Famus gave a respectful nod. "But let's see how well you can dance!" More beams shot in Rojan's direction, heedless of who they hurt.
"Bastard!" Rocke's blood boiled, inflamed by this display of casual cruelty. He didn't care what happened to him if it meant this madness stopped. Heedless of the risk, Rocke darted toward the shack, just ducking under a shock rod Phú had assumed he hadn't noticed.
"Hey, come back here!" Phú said, chasing after him.
But Rocke was quicker, his steps fueled by his righteous rage. With a graceful leap that surprised even him, he flew through the shack's open window, landing in a somewhat awkward roll. Kallane's uncle gasped, his fearful eyes wide in shock. While still fretful, he calmed somewhat when he recognized Rocke. He opened his mouth to say something, but Rocke raised a hand to stop him. There wasn't time for discussion. Thankfully, besides a deactivated guard robot, the shack was empty of any immediate threats.
Rocke stumbled toward the weapon cache, impressed by the display of deadly force. It wasn't just guns and rifles—it held grenades and a combat knife, too. With little time to consider his options, Rocke grabbed the nearest weapon, a golden rifle with a scope. From the weight of the weapon, Rocke idly wondered if it was actual gold.
The rifle's tip pointed at the broken wall Famus had used for his overdramatic entrance, Rocke's palm slick on the weapon as he waited for his quarry to appear. Tense seconds ticked away, but the guard robot never appeared, and Rocke tensed when he realized Phú had no intention of being predictable.
He positioned himself in a spot where he could cover every open angle. A small thud was Rocke's only warning as a nearby wall exploded, splintering from the impact of a metal fist. His weapon fired in the impact's direction, the beam landing a clear blow. Rocke smiled in satisfaction as the metal flared red-hot before the entire chassis melted under the beam's intense heat—hot enough to ignite part of the wooden shack. It caught quickly, spreading across the cheap wooden frame at an alarming rate. Still, Rocke kept firing until the metal monstrosity was nothing but a melted heap, a bitter odor wrinkling his nose.
"Not so clever now, are you?" Rocke said, pleased.
It seemed things were turning around. In the distance, he heard more gunfire, but not in Famus's guards's direction. Nitao had entered the fray, providing much needed assistance. The fire continued to spread, Kallane's uncle's eyes widening in alarm as it threatened to consume them all.
"Get going!" Rocke said. Finally, Kallane's uncle got the picture and headed toward a nearby opening.
But he paused, eyes widening in alarm. That was Rocke's only warning as a metal fist collided with his skull, knocking him senseless. Smoke obscured Rocke's blurry vision as he looked up, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Was that a guard robot?
"What?" Rocke mumbled, having trouble gathering his thoughts.
"Idiot! You really thought you got rid of me? Fat chance!" Phú said, her tone gleeful. "You need to pay better attention to your surroundings!"
"The other guard robot in the room?" Rocke said, his scattered mind gathering the pieces.
Stupid! He'd been careless. The robot attacking outside had been a decoy. Phú had jumped to the room's other guard robot to catch him unaware. The room became oppressively hot as the flames caught the roof, Rocke coughing as the smoke thickened. Phú, however, stood above him, completely unconcerned about the fire licking at her metal heels.
"Now here's a question. Should I bash your brains in? Electrocute you until your heart gives out? Or just hold you here until you die of smoke inhalation? So many good options!" Phú said.
Rocke's mind raced, searching for a possible escape. The broken wall only stood about a meter and a half away. But he'd never get that far with Phú standing over him.
"Hold on. Don't you want to bring me in? Just cuff me and throw me into a cell. Isn't that your job, capturing criminals?" Rocke asked.
"Good point, but nah," his tormentor replied. "You're a known traitor, and you've broken out of prison before. Safer to kill you now before you cause more problems."
"Really?" Who programmed this nuts AI?!
"Yep! And I've decided on suffocation. You believe in that superstitious mumbo jumbo, right? What more suitable death for your sin than fire? I am so clever!"
Before Rocke could roll away, a metal arm clamped around his neck. It held him fast against the floor, smoke making his eyes water as he struggled against her grip. He fought harder, but it only drew more smoke into his lungs. Ragged coughs escaped his lips, breathing becoming almost impossible.
"Night, hero," Phú said in a purr. "And sweet dreams in oblivion."
---
Jafia sighed as she sipped at her coffee, the bitter taste reviving her. After the last stressful few days, she needed such simple comforts. It heightened her awareness as she watched the operation get underway, knowing she could help little at her end. She kept her eyes peeled on her computer, watchful for any change.
While she'd caused a complete freeze in the guard robot's mainframe, it would restore itself soon. While her skills were impressive, her enemy was no slouch, either. Jafia hadn't been entirely truthful to Rocke's resistance gang. While the robot's command network was antiquated, she wasn't confident she could cause a complete burnout of the system. The enemy wouldn't get caught off guard next time.
A palm slammed against her chair as she watched Rocke's group approach the shack used as the camp's main headquarters, gripping it tight as she waited for the shoe to drop. Years taught her to expect the unexpected. She uttered a curse as the wall exploded and a guard robot burst free to assault Rocke's resistance group.
"What the—?" Jafia checked her computer, noting the enemy network was still down. Why was this guard robot still functional? She noticed another oddity: the robot was fighting erratically, not straightforward and ruthless like its programming should dictate. In fact, Jafia noticed a sadistic streak as it tormented Rocke.
"Did some AI take over the robot?" But why would that be possible? Her heart seized with terror as the robot punched Rocke in the chest, knocking him senseless.
"I have to help him!"
But what could she do? She'd seen what little effect Rocke's weapon had on the guard robot. They didn't possess the firepower to destroy that metal monstrosity. And every second it delayed them meant more time to either restore its metal comrades or bring in reinforcements. Jafia slammed her palms against her skull for a solution. Then it struck her—its simplicity brilliant in its execution.
Her fingers blurred as she wrote the simple program and uploaded it to a USB drive. She smiled to herself, pleased. She figured this would be the best solution. It meant abandoning her post, but Rocke needed her. After stuffing the drive into a side pocket, Jafia withdrew her sidearm and rushed out of her van. She only prayed she wouldn't be too late.
The intensity of the fight increased as she approached the camp. Jafia stayed low as she moved forward, her eyes keen for trouble. She jerked in surprise as someone came into view, almost shooting the person on instinct. But Jafia's training stayed her finger, and she sighed in relief when she realized they weren't hostile. The Ottomon screamed as he saw the weapon, cowering in terror.
In response, Jafia held up a placating hand, showing she meant no harm. "It's okay. I'm here to help."
"Help?" the man replied. While he'd calmed somewhat, he still seemed ready to bolt. Recognition clicked in Jafia's head.
"You're Kallane's uncle, right? Hooven?"
"Yeah," Hooven said, somewhat confused. "Wait, I need to get going. They'll catch me otherwise!"
"Wait!" Jafia caught the man's arm. "A young man with dark hair—have you seen him? Where is he?"
"I don't know," Hooven said, his voice testy. "Does it matter? You better flee, too. They'll kill anyone they catch."
And the tattooless Ottomon man fled without another word, leaving Jafia alone, stewing in her frustration. Some help he was. With no better options, she darted forward, hoping to find her target soon. She somewhat knew Rocke's location, however, time was pressing.
"They're treated little better than animals." Jafia thought in disgust as she entered the camp proper, surveying the display of casual human cruelty. These people had been left to stew in their own filth.
But it was hardly a surprise; her own people, the Vanderfall, had gotten treated the same during the war. In the OUP's mind, the victor was supreme, free to do whatever pleased them. When she caught a soldier hiding behind a bush for cover, Jafia pointed her pistol at the surprised man's skull and fired.
When Famus came into view, Jafia didn't hesitate to pull the trigger. If Rocke died in this damnable camp, OUP would pay for it in blood. The camp warden uttered a curse as the red line streaked towards his head, but managed to duck at the last moment. He yelped as Rojan used the distraction to clothesline the man from behind, driving him crashing to the ground. Her fellow spy gave her a thumbs-up and fought to restrain the man. It seemed he wanted Famus alive for whatever mission he was on. But that didn't concern her, and she continued to search for Rocke.
She spotted Matthias helping Rojan restrain Famus. Kallane still struggled with another guard who had her pinned down behind a barrel. The guard hesitated, unsure if he should keep the Ottomon girl pinned or help his boss. A neck snap from the Konquellian answered that question, ambushing the man from behind. Jafia jerked back, startled. Where had he come from? But she nodded, impressed by his skill.
The flames bursting from the shack on the hilltop interrupted her reverie; smoke poured from its open windows. Dread seized Jafia's chest as she caught a metal figure fighting with someone within.
"Rocke!" Jafia dashed forward, her heart pounding as the flames spread higher.
"Got it!" Rojan said, producing a key from the warden's pocket. "Quick, get everyone free. The authorities are bound to notice the smoke!" But Jafia barely noticed, her attention focused on rescuing Rocke.
Through the roar of flames, she heard the struggle within. A high-pitched mechanical voice laughed, taking pleasure in tormenting someone.
"I'm coming, Rocke!" With a mighty kick, she burst the flimsy shack's door open, weapon raised. Her heart seized in her chest when she saw Rocke's dire situation. A guard robot had him pinned to the floor as flames gathered around them. Her ex struggled to breathe, coughing through the smoke.
"An interruption? Come on! Just when it was getting good! Do you mind? You're interrupting an intimate moment!" the guard robot said, its eyestalk turning to face her.
Bolts of energy lanced at the eyestalk. The metal monster pivoted away, the bolts flying past. It seemed bored as it turned to address Jafia.
"That's your plan?" The AI snorted in amusement. "Even if you disable me, this body weighs 150 kilograms. No way you're getting me off Rocke before he suffocates!"
Indecision wracked Jafia's features—realizing the AI was correct. Rocke would only get free if it wanted him free. With a portable terminal, she could have hacked its system, but she'd forgotten it in her rush. The smoke worsened as she struggled for a solution. A wild one came to her, and Jafia knew she'd hate every minute.
"Fine. If Rocke's not escaping, neither are you!" Jafia said, wincing as she dashed over a roaring flame.
"Huh, are you crazy?" the AI said, startled.
Sweat trickled down her neck as she entered deeper into the inferno. The heat was suffocating—Jafia helding her breath to avoid the smoke. But through the haze, she saw her target: a terminal port on the base of the metal monster's deck.
"Perfect. Once I connect this, you're deleted for good!" Jafia said, pivoting around the robot.
"What?!" Confusion—then fear—entered the AI's voice as it spotted the drive in Jafia's hand. It circled around, protecting its vulnerable weak point, an action that accidentally dislodged its hold on Rocke, just as Jafia had planned.
In a coughing fit, Rocke slipped out of the weakened grip to scoot away from his attacker. He held his shirt against his mouth, but he seemed weak—on the verge of collapsing. He'd already breathed in too much smoke.
"You!" Furious, the AI swung a shock prod at Jafia. Only her training kept her from getting paralyzed before suffering the fate of being burned alive.
"Hurry, we need—" But Jafia froze when she found Rocke nowhere, only to gasp as she saw him face-first on the floor. He'd finally passed out. If she didn't get him at least some fresh air soon, he'd die.
"You're going nowhere," the AI said, tone mocking. Jafia's heart seized in her throat as the guard robot moved to block the broken wall. Another appeared by the doorway, blocking that line of escape.
"Oh, by the way, I got the guard robots back online," the AI said, her tone gloating. "Oops. So much for your grand rescue plan, huh?"