Chapter Text
A dull hum echoed throughout the steel-lined walls of Outpost-9, a light dusting of snow along the side of the hallway shifting with the airflow, creating a sparkling mist on the floor. Laughter, chatter and a thrumming of voices flowed as the melody of civilization. A tranquil air hung about the place. Well, that was until a loud crash shattered the peace, followed by a furious bellow.
“MOVE, MOVE, MOVE! IF A MURDER DRONE WERE HERE YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD 5 MINUTES AGO. MOVE!!!!!!!”
The youths training room door, albeit shut, did an absolutely atrocious job at blocking out the sounds of carnage that came from within.
“MOVE YOUR FEET! AS LONG AS YOU’RE STOOD STILL, YOU’RE SCRAP!” The voice yelled, a commanding roar that was almost certain to damage someone's audio sensors some day. A magenta haired drone scrambled to her feet, narrowly avoiding a knife that bounced off the ground mere inches from where her hand had been.
“GOOD, KEEP MOVING, THINK ON YOUR FEET, WHERE CAN YOU HIDE? WHERE CAN YOU GAIN A VANTAGE POINT?”
The drone slid behind a worn barricade, vents working at full whack to keep her cool as her mind span. Shaking her head to clear it, the bot jumped to her feet again, charging at the larger drone situated in the centre of the room, but just before she reached him, she ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding a punch to the visor, trying to sweep the male's feet out from underneath him. The only thing THAT achieved was a slight stumble from her opponent, followed by a boot to the chin, sending her skidding across the room.
“COME ON, YOU CAN DO BETTER THAN THAT!” The male roared, turning to face her again. “GET UP!”
Grunting, the girl staggered back up, wiping a smear of oil from her cheek, spitting a globule of the thick black lipid onto the ground as she shifted into an offensive stance. Eyes darting over the stockier drone in front of her, she let out a frustrated huff, shifting to a defensive stance instead, spreading her weight out. Observing the slight change, the male huffed, picking a bar off the ground, gripping it tightly as he ran towards her, zigzagging his path to make him harder to track. Barely giving the girl any time to react, he slammed the pole into her side, making her swerve to the left to avoid the blow, allowing him to knee her right in the visor. Ramming the metal pole against her midsection, cracking her casing, oil spurting out of the wound as she was sent skidding across the floor, crashing into a barrier. The drone coughed, gasping for breath as she curled into a ball, shaking. After she didn’t get up, her fellow sighed, dropping the pole and walking over to her curled up form.
“You should have been able to block that.” He said coldly, icy blue eyes staring judgmentally down into her own emerald ones. When she didn’t respond, he sighed, crouching down next to her.
“Amy?”
Silence.
“Amy?”
Silence.
“Amygdala, answer me right now.”
Nothing.
“AMY”
“That hurt…” Amygdala whined, slowly uncurling herself, wiping the black oil from her casing. “I hate you, Makava…”
“The feeling is mutual.” Makava grunted, grabbing her around the forearm and dragging her to her feet. Gasping as a throb of pain ran through her midsection, Amygdala widened her stance to balance herself, vision spinning as her optics readjusted.
“Did you really need to hit me that hard? I swear you crushed half of my internal components..”
“Oh quit complaining, a Disassembly Drone would have ripped out your components long ago.” Makava spat, glaring disdainfully at the crack in her abdomen. “Go to the medical wing, they’ll patch you up.” His icy eyes softened for a second. “You’re getting better, slowly, but getting better nonetheless…Keep up the good work.” He nodded, before turning, tidying the evidence of their practice session.
After the ‘bleeding’ had slowed, Amygdala pulled open the heavy steel door, letting it clang shut behind her. The noise reverberated along the snow-laden corridor, disturbing the delicate crystal flakes. They crunched and crumbled under her boots, the noise making a pleasant tingling sensation run through her wires. After around 5 or so minutes of painful walking, she reached the med-bay, automatic doors sliding cleanly open in front of her. She was greeted by the usual spotless counters, white walls, shiny equipment and fresh minty scent.
“Amy! In again, I see?” A friendly voice called out, and Amygdala turned her neon green eyes to the left of the room, spotting a brunette drone sitting behind a computer.
“Hey Tawnie!” She grinned. “Got my casing cracked during some training.”
Tawnie rolled her eyes and chuckled, shaking her head.
“Take a seat, we’ll get you fixed up in no time.”
Amygdala nodded, lowering herself into a cheap plastic chair, twirling a strand of her magenta hair. Tawnie got up and walked through a hinged door, and in her place soon came an all too familiar face. Amy’s core lurched, and she fought the instinct to lunge for a weapon.
“Hey, P.” She greeted, forcing a cheerful tone into her voice, ignoring the violent thumping in her chest cavity. The Disassembly Drone smiled politely at her, posture stiff and tail swaying anxiously. She knew it was hard for him, all the staring and fearful muttering behind his back, but it was hard not to panic at the initial sight of him.
“Cracked casing, eh?” He asked, blinking as she nodded. “Right, one second.” P strode over to a grey cabinet on the wall, pulling the doors open with a creak. Pulling out a small vial of silvery goop, he returned, handing her the vial.
“Pour that over the cracks, this should close them up quickly.”
Amygdala nodded, taking the vial and popping the cork out, letting the diluted liquid nanites pour out onto her casing, watching as the cracks fizzed and sealed up. She handed the half empty vial back to P, who put it back into the cabinet, shutting the squeaky door.
“Is anyone going to oil that door?” Amy asked, tilting her head.
“At some point, other tasks keep coming up.” P explained, turning back to her. She nodded, standing up and stretching, grateful for the absence of pain.
“Thanks P.”
“No problem.” He replied, loosening up slightly. “You should be good to go.”
Amy nodded, giving him a small two fingered salute, before turning and walking out of the sliding door.
Turning left, she continued down the corridor, heading towards the cafeteria, looking forwards to a refill after her intense training session, when the world was bathed in red.