((I already feel rusty. Wow. I was half tempted to rewrite this again, but It wasn't getting any better the second time around.))
The weapon that had been cast aside was scooped up with gracefully deceptive ease, one of the twin wires swung about, plugged into one of your vacant spinal ports in a practiced motion. Immediately, the bizzarely familiar sensation of the weapon interfacing with your cybernetics followed, data flooding your senses, reporting that it had less than thirty percent of its internal powercells remaining.
The sensation of that weapon becoming a part of your body was odd, yet oh so familiar as it calibrated itself to you, all the safeguards that were normally present to stop a weapon such as this from being used by the wrong hands reporting that you were good to go. You were authorised to use this weapon, you were authoirsed to use what was now an extension of your body, the second control wire moving at its own accord to plug into the interface port at the base of your neck.
You were immediately, intimately aware of just where the gun was pointed, an overlay on your vision telling you where each shot would hit, an overlay that compensated for atmospheric conditions and user error. An overlay that you could feel updating a hundred times a second with additional data fed directly into your mind.
With the weapon trained on the now still body before you, you cautiously nudged it with one foot, watching for any telltale signs of motion. That nudge was followed by a few more insistant pokes of your foot, followed by a light kick and a sigh of relief as you satisfied that need to know that the form before you was indeed dead.
It was grim, but you had to do this.
You had to examine the body and see what you could learn.
Crouching down, you flicked your wrist back as you allowed the weapon to slide from it, twirling it about behind you as the control wires braced it against your shoulder, out of your way. Wires, that were as much a part of you while slave to your cybernetic system as your arms and legs were. Wires, that you felt you had full control of as little more than exceptionally flexible limbs.
Your hands moved to grasp at the armoured form before you, slipping into the gaping holes where weapons fire had vaporised the composite materials, grasping at the edges, before you pulled. The sound of fastenings and joints giving way as you tore armoured plates away from each other filled the air, while you exposed what remained of the torso of this former human.
Human.
He required respect for what he once was.
Respect that you could barely afford to give in these macabre circumstances.
Other than the colour of his blood however, there was little that you could identify that was immediately wrong beyond a mild discolouration of his skin. Sharpened as your senses were, they failed to betray anything more than these few details to you, failed to tell you if there was something that you were missing. Failed, to tell you what it was that was wrong with the picture before you.
"Does this facility have the means to incinerate the body?" you asked, though your question was met with silence. "I require to know, for we do not know what we are dealing with, for this man requires his remains being dealt with, with more dignity than leaving them where they lay."
"This facility is equipped with basic storage, Warden-Ten," came the voice of the Elder, prompting you to frown. You didn't want to have to deal with this callous program at this time, you didn't want to have to try and drive home the point that this man deserved more respect than it would give him.
You didn't want to have to argue about how the feelings that coloured your thoughts made you greater than before. You didn't want to have to explain how these feelings of compassion and sorrow you felt made you alive, where supression of them made you no more than a machine yourself.
You had been little better than a machine for so long...
When this was all over, you were going to explore your feelings again, learn what it was to be alive. Learn, what it was to be yourself. You were going to live life to the fullest when you didn't require that utmost clarity that you knew came with your ever changing duty.
"Then freeze the body in storage. Slate it for burial as the highest priority non-essential task you can. This man deserves respect, for his life was sacrificed while carrying out his duties. If this respect is not given, I shall..." you paused, smiling, wryly "I shall order you to erase yourself."
"The filtration unit, supplies and communicator have been deposited in the exit alcove, Warden-Ten. This facility will be sealed when you-" the Elders voice came, only for the older man to interrupt, his tones stern, yet as warm as ever.
"A second filtration unit is required, for I shall be leaving with the warden."
"No, you need to stay here, where it's safe," you hissed, not wanting to needlessly risk the lives of the remaining few you knew were here. You knew that if you came to an unfortunate end, that unlike himself, you could be recloned, that everything that composed you could be uploaded into a new mind.
You could likely even recover your failed incarnation's body, obtain all the data from their cybernetics and synchronise it with your own. You could effectively survive death as such, where as this man...
All it would take was a single event, a moment of misfortune and that warmth you could see in his eyes, that compassion that you saw him looking upon you with, would be snuffed out forever. It was a misguided act on his behalf, to wish to safeguard one who was so much more powerful than he could comprehend, and yet...
And yet, you knew you needed someone to watch your back, you couldn't do this alone. You were in sub-optimal condition, yet you still wouldn't risk this mans life needlessly. You would put a condition on it, some form of restriction to ensure his safety.
"Fine. You can come. But only, and I stress this, only, if you are able to get full body armour, only, if you are able to aquire a second filtration unit. Only, if you are on the surface within five minutes and ready to go."
The man smiled, while you started towards the door leading to the access shaft.
"Elder, you are not to send the final one here out. You are to protect his life at all costs," you called out as you opened the door, as the screech of metal filled your ears, followed by a heavy clang as the door slammed shut behind you.
The filtration unit that was set in a previously hidden containment area was little more than a mask, not quite the suit that you were hoping you would have had to protect you from the outside world. What you assumed to contain the supplies, came in the form of a backpack, one that appeared like it would fasten about your chest, one that appeared like it would get in the way of anything plugged into your ports. Beside it however, was a headset, a communicator that lay atop something that you hadn't expected to see.
A jumpsuit.
The shiny grey material that it was composed of was sleek, unflattering and reinforced with basic protective ribbing beneath the surface. It was better than nothing, it was a replacement for what remained of your current attire. It was welcome, even if you hadn't requested it.
As you changed into the jumpsuit, you found your attention drifting upward as you wondered just how much of your body was vastly superior, just how much of it you could make vastly superior with a fresh clone. You had to be running about in a much more general purpose skin after all, one that you could discard when you reached the Cloning and Fabrication facility.
One that you could replace with a much more fitting form.
One that was better suited to the enviroment.
As you started up the ladder towards the surface with the weight of the pack of supplies resting haphazardly off one shoulder, you found yourself wondering just how much danger you were going to be in upon the surface. You didn't know what was out there, or if indeed, there was anything at all out there. The skies had changed, as the man had said, and you had to travel beneath them.
As you reached the hatch leading to the outside world, you mentally steeled yourself, knowing that the fifty miles you had to travel toward the facility was through the unknown.
As your hand pressed to the underside of the hatch, you faltered, mentally running through your limited course of action. Was it really limited to pray for the best?
What was the name that echoed through your mind right now, and just who were they?
Did you have much hope for the rest of the Wardens you had arrived with by now?
Could you forgive them for failing to terminate you when they realised something was wrong, so you could be recloned and redeployed?
Author
Topic: Descent (Read 7458 times)