The Edenite Saga: Episode III - Deadly Sins (New)

[Ninmast]

"Final unit surrender verified," the mechanical golem answered, moving over to True as it pulled out a pod and placed it against her chest, where it attached. "Securing teleportation beacons."

A familiar laugh reached all their ears. It was the laugh of the blonde Edenite. "You're all so pathetic," he called out before the largest rubble was tossed off of him by his own hand. He sat up and sneered at all of them. "Giving up without even trying. What cowards."

[Red14]

Cynthia whispered to herself but made the sound audible to the Blonds Edenite. "He was attacking you, not us, they were the ones deciding to get in his buisiness.

[Ninmast]

"Correction, Metacarbon," he answered her, "that scrap heap designated all of us as targets."

[Red14]

"That's certainly not what it sounded like to me..." Cynthia said thoughtlessly.

[CHANGEME]

True glanced down at the pod with an air of disdain.

"Well..." She mused, prying at it. "Why don't YOU take a crack a-at him, then? I was being nice and letting you guys have a tur-urn, but nooo, I'm O-O-OBVIOUSLY a coward. A three-ee ton, eight foot tall coward with the capacity to lift thousands of times my own weight, who hardly did 1/65th the required punch out-output thing, even with bludgeon hands, ohhh, no."

She went on, but the remnants of the miniature rant fell into half-minded radio garble.

[Ninmast]

"Target is in critical need of repair," H.A.C.S. decided as it turned back to True and pushed a button on the pod. "Commencing teleport back to base." In a flash of light, True disappeared, but the H.A.C.S. unit remained.

Master Zero stood up and took several steps forward. "Tell me, do the rest of you share the defective's sentiment? Would you rather I fight your battle for you and deal with this hunk of scrap, myself?"

*True*

When the light from the forced teleport faded, the alien found herself on a table almost immediately surrounded by scientists. One flicked a switch and she found herself held to the table by magnetic forces attaching to her own metal body.

Murmurs flowed throughout the small crowd, and words like, "Fascinating," and "Not H.A.C.S." reached her ears.

[Red14]

"I'm fine with it," Cynthia began standing up "in fact, I'll help you, i just didn't want to do it by myself!" She rotated her shoulders and cracked her knuckles. "I'd gladly help you send this bucket of bolts to the junkyard." She then stopped her preparation and took several deep breaths, then relaxed her body, letting her arms hang limply in front of her, looking at the H.A.C.S unit saying, "You can go ahead and declare me hostile now."

[Ninmast]

The Edenite scowled at her offer. "I don't need a Carbon's help to deal with a Terran droid."

[CHANGEME]

*True*

Her eyes flicked about for one panicked second. "Hey!" She called, a strained whine polluting the sound. "Who are you g-guys?!" Chck.

[Red14]

"Oh..." Cynthia said, lowering her guard, "Then do it already, stop talking about it." She sat back down in the dirt, waiting for a show.

[Ninmast]

*True*

"Well, well," a man's voice called above the din, and the entire group silenced, making way for a handsome man in his thirties to walk down steps from a higher platform toward the table, "it seems H.A.C.S. has found a damaged android ... How damaged, though, I wonder ..."

[CHANGEME]

"I'm not dam-amaged!" True assured in a flurry without moving her lips. "The squea-eaking isn't damage, and talking like this doesn't affect my combat capacities, unless you count hindered mid-battle banter."

[Ninmast]

"On the contrary," the man contradicted as his hawk-like gaze centered on her, "such symptoms would suggest, if not damaged, then defective or poorly maintained parts, which in turn could cause great system damage, even a colossal system crash."

[CHANGEME]

"No..." She argued again, eyes glued to his. "My mom... keeps on-on top of it. I-if I ever shut down, ..." She trailed off, and then, quite abruptly, vanished.

[Ninmast]

*True*

"Scanners!" the man barked immediately.

"She's still present," a scientist at a bank of monitors answered. "She has some sort of cloaking mechanism engaged."

"Clever," he praised as he stepped closer. "How's that system scan coming?"

"Nearly complete, sir. Scans indicate that 85% of her servos are grinding together due to lack of lubricant and poor sizing. Her processor is poorly ventilated and in danger of overheating if too much demand is placed on it and her databanks are spinning at a dangerously unstable security. One wrong tip and she'll lose it to a hard drive crash. Estimated system status is critical, but somehow self-maintained just enough to keep her stable. Speakers are heavily damaged. Weapon systems, however, are numerous and fully online."

The man moved over to the displays. "What kind of weapons?"

"I'm not sure, sir," the scientist answered, shaking his head. "It's not like anything I've ever seen. It's like some sort of hodgepodge of random junk strewn together into makeshift artillery and melee engagement protocols."