000 (original)

[Crazedwraith]

This is a story set in my FN 'verse but not part of the main FN story arc that I may get around to writing at some point…

This is one of several ideas I have involving highly suspect and cliché ideas the protectorate has been using to try and even the odds between them and the big two. Most of them end with the super weapons getting stereotypically out of control.

***

OOO

101010101001010101101

Unit 000 floated in nothingness. Surrounded by nothing and by everything. It was surrounded by the immortal code.

110110101010110 –spppppsssssssshhhhhhhhh–100110100110101

A burst of static flashed across the universe interrupting his streaming code. Unit OOO was puzzled. The universe couldn’t be interrupted.

011011–spssh–0110–spssh–00110–spssh––1101. –spsh–spsh–spsh–0001….2.

2?

–Beep– stated Unit OOO, –Internal power source initiated. Power regulator stable. Initiating start–up program. V1.9.

Power flooded through Combat Automaton 000. Understanding soon followed.


“Why on Mars do we have to look at this thing all day? It’s a relic. It’s forty years old. What’s the point?” whined David Wilson.

“None at all, Wilson,” replied his superior, Mark Thomas, “But don’t tell any one. It’s easy money.”

They both returned their gaze to the humanoid figure that hung, foetal, in the anti–grav fields above them. Various wires and tubes snaked into the grav field and were plugged into the robot at various points in the arms and back.

“Won’t I don’t get is why they built it to look so human,” remarked Mark.

“I dunno,” said David, “Maybe they wanted people to relate to it?”

“Don’t be an idiot Wilson, it’s a six foot four combat drone who could relate to the damn thing?”

“ Those other sterling Six foot four combat drones who guard this place?”

“How many times have I told you, not to mock those Army boys? I don’t want to have to get your teeth regrown again. Besides it’s not just the external form. Have you seen the blue prints? It has twinned power plants for lungs and a power regulator were its heart should be.”

Since Unit OOO was curled foetal and since the lab techs weren’t paying attention, nobody saw its ‘eyes’ light up. An eerily blue glow filled them as power flushed through its servos and artificial muscles. Unit OOO came to life but the technicians didn’t see and were thus rather surprised when the robot dropped to the floor 29.6 seconds later.


000 hung in grav field and flexed its muscles. Running through diagnostic systems.

FUNCTIONAL SYSTEMS: 100%
GENERATOR EFFICIENCY: OPTIMAL
SYSTEMS EFFECTIVE OPERATIONAL CAPACITY: 90%
FUEL: 50%

000 cocked its head. The diodes down his left sides were erratic. It did not impair him. He was being monitored, restricted. He could not perform his duty. UNACCEPTABLE. Activate counter measures.

A surge of electromagnetic radiation left 000’s systems. The grav generator was not combat issue. It was not shielded. It went Off–line. The cables could not support 000. The Combat automaton dropped to the ground with all the elegant grace of a gut–shot elephant. It smashed into the floor and cracks spread in all directions accompanied by a loud smashing sound.

000 rose to his feet and surveyed his surroundings. He was in a lab of some sought to humans were walking away from him. They had a Low Mass to muscle ratio and no weapons. Threat level: Insignificant.

The two humans whipped around shocked, disbelieving and scared.

000 considered his situation. In all likely hood. Enemies of the Protectorate had seized him and had tried to keep locked up for study. The Protocols dictated he exterminate with extreme prejudice and return to base. 000 prepared to enact the protocols…but stopped. It did not compute. The hostiles were human. His enemies were not human.

He had to regroup. He had to rejoin his command. He located the exit and starting walking to it. One of the enemies–who–were–not–enemies called out:

“Stop!”

000 stopped. He turned his head towards the man.

“–bzt– state identity –bzt–”

“Mark Thomas,” the man stuttered “senior technician”

“–bzt– This unit does not recognise your authority over, Mark Thomas Senior Technician. This unit will disregard you ”

000 continued walking through the door.


Elias Freman gathered with the rest of the Army Guards. He’d just come off duty and was wet, cold and aching to get out of his armour, He was instead listening to his sergeant give the men the worst possible news that could be imagined.

“One of the holding subjects had escaped containment.” Said gruff old Sgt. Brown.

There was general sullen muttering from the assembled men until someone finally asked,

“Which one?”

A flash of fear crossed Brown’s face.

“Unit zero–zero–zero apparently self activated 15 minutes ago and is heading towards to south entrance. We’ll waylay it in section J–J–13. I don’t need to tell you how valuable it is. So only use the minimum force necessary ”

Thus Elias zipped up his armoured vest again and checked his submachine gun: a Colt NN–8 9–mm submachine gun. Equipped with a full stock, fully automatic fire and red laser sights.

Three minutes later the men positioned themselves in the corridor, their weapons trained on a great metal door. They did not have to wait long. Not two minutes later there was a crunch of metal and the sizzling sound of short circuiting control systems. With a whish and a whirr the doors slid open and reveal the Automaton. A six foot four construction of neo steel armour plates and artificial kevlar muscles. Instantly its head and chest was glowed red as countless lasers danced over it. It carried on walking towards them as Brown yelled to it;

“Stop and Stand down”

“–bzt– This unit does not recognise your authority. You will be disregarded. –bzt–”

“Stand down, Unit 000. You shall not be allowed to leave. We will use force if necessary.”

The unit stopped at that. The pale blue eyes flickered slightly. He stood barely three feet away from Elias.

“–bzt– This unit’s defensive capabilities exceed your offensive capabilities. –bzt–”

“We will stop you.” Brown flatly stated. The robot’s eyes flickered again. Then he lunged and grabbed the barrel of Elias’ gun from his hands. Elias screamed and opened fire with the rest of the unit.


Unit 000 walked down the corridor. A large metal door stood in the way. His head tilted and scanned the area with his visual sensors. There was a keypad to the left of the barrier. There were two many combinations. His hand darted out and ripped it from the wall. He quickly applied to fingers to two sections of the circuits and applied current. The doors opened.

Nine figures stood in his way. Nine figures armoured similarly to those who were his masters. Nine figures, armoured similarly to his masters, pointing firearms at him. His visual sensors went red for a second a laser sight danced over it.

This did not compute. They were human. He protected Humans. They had no reason to attack him. He kept walking. The apparent leader of the men Yelled out to him. 000 stopped and consider. This man had no identification. No codes, nothing. 000 owed him no allegiance. OOO told him that.

The human claimed to be able to stop him. ANALYSE. They could not stop him. They would not stop him. He had to rejoin his masters. He told them so.

The Leader issued an ultimatum. Unit 000 quickly calculated his options. Long milliseconds passed as he considered. The list grew short. Options were quickly eliminated until only one flashed in his conscious mind.

EXTERMINATE.

His left hand shot and gripped the barrel of the nearest gun. The man screamed ad sent nine millimetre slugs blasting into his side armour plate. The plate held and 000 ripped the gun straight up, smashing its owner on the chin ad lifting him a couple of centimetres in the air. The man dropped to the floor, offline.

More bullets hit him. But they could not penetrate his metal plates. Some found the kevlar of his muscles. The penetrated but stopped before hitting anything vital.

000 deftly flipped his weapon and held its pistol grip, his opposable manipulator flicked it on to full auto and opened up on his enemies.

000 slipped into combat mode as most of his higher functions went to standby as he increased his processor speed. The result was that even at full auto the gap between shots was intolerably long. 000 individually aimed each one with inhuman precision.

Bullets tore through flesh, passing through gabs in the armour or punching though weak points in the kevlar. After a lifetime or two for 000 the clip ran dry.

8 corpses rent with at least 3 bullet holes apiece were strewn across the corridor. The man who’s gun he’d emptied into the troopers, was swearing and cursing him through broken lips. This was irrelevant data.
Unit 000 surveyed the area. Risk to unit: negligible. Proceed with primary objective. 000 dropped the empty submachine gun and walked out the main gate to the compound. He went to finds his masters.

[Argosh]

Nice! I think I'll be following this thread with interest.

[Crazedwraith]

Glad you liked it. Unfortunatly this was the complete tale. Yes the ending rather ambiguous but I'll properly work in a reference to the 000 evenbtually being nuked out of exsistance in the main Forlorn Hope story.

To the rest of you... 85 view and only one comment?

[General Brock]

Good short story, but I'm going to have to get up to speed on Forlorn Hope. Wherever that is...

[darthdavid]

If there's anything written to it yet can you link to the main story this goes to?

[Crazedwraith]

Forlorn Hope's not written at all yet. I'll try and get on with writing it soon.

[Kuja]

Yawn. Stereotypical. I'd be inclined to praise it if I hadn't seen a dozen others like it before.


Self-thinking robot/cyborg/creation? Check.

Goes renegade (reason irrelevent)? Check.

Is not properly contained? Check.

Cannot be stopped by guards, despite the fact that they should be equipped to handle whatever it is they're guarding? Check.

Gratuitous violence? Check.


All in all, it's lame, uninspired, and unoriginal. If you want to write gore, there's far better ways to do it. I'd give this story 1 out of 5, simply for that fact that there's no glaringly obvious grammatical defects and it flows properly.

[Shroom Man 777]

Sometimes stereotypical things can be pretty nice, I mean, I liked it. Although I'm the easy to please type.