Story of two robots trying their best (to kill each other)
For Serial Designation J, it’s lonely being only effective disassembly drone in her sector of Copper-9.
N was already a walking synergistic liability, but V couldn’t be more obviously stressed and maladaptively coping if she tried. When a botched disassembly leaves V a nightmare-riddled wreck, the squad’s effectiveness hits its lowest point. With disassemblers like these, you’d swear the worker drones show more initiative!
Meanwhile, Uzi Doorman is a cool, independent worker drone. After Doll abandoned her, she doesn’t need anyone else — all she needs is to finish her railgun and blow the murder drones anyway. Of course, if her plan goes wrong she’ll be helpless at their mercy. Dead, in other words.
After all, J is a loyal drone. Locate, shutdown, disassemble. A simple directive she’d never hesitate to carry out. Right?
Story of a killer robot at the mercy of the one she failed to kill
J couldn’t get that worker off her mind. A worker, standing over her, those violet eyes gloating with incontestable triumph, that gun roaring with so much electromagnetic power it made her coils quake. A worker. How could she lose to this? But she had lost. More than lost. She was going to die. She was dead. Unless—
But it wasn’t enough that a worker had left her about to offer surrender. It had left her speechless.
Or: in which J holds her tongue, and Uzi holds her hostage.
Uzi’s been living with J’s team for a while now. They’ve settled into a comfortable routine. A very comfortable routine — she hopes no one’s noticed the bite marks. She’d kill J for that, but it’s not like that worked out last time.
Worth it, though, to cement their mutually beneficial partnership. Even if it meant acting as a glorified oilcan whenever J got hungry. Uzi isn’t sure what’s the worse embarrassment: that she kind of likes it, or that J really likes it.
No, the worst embarrassment is that they’ve been doing this long enough that J wants to spice things up.
J narrowed her eyes, eyeing the two disassembly drones in the pod. N and V leaned against the wall, white sheets of A2 paper in their hands. V rolled her eyes, but N raised a finger, as if requesting permission to ask a question. What a waste of time — just ask.
“Hey captain, what’s this?”
“It’s your schedule for the next week. Memorize it, or keep it safe. I won’t be printing out another.”
Uzi was pretty frickin good at her job. Her sick as a hell railgun totally works, and she has the body count to prove it! With a trail of dead murder drones behind her, she’s finally secured her place in the frozen wasteland.
Okay, maybe she had a little help. But she didn’t need J’s protection or anything. She could handle herself just fine!
Tonight, she needs to repair her railgun. Maybe tweak a few things while she’s at it. And sure, she’s staying up a little late to do it. (Don’t tell J.)
The railgun’s what kept her alive, after all. She needs to hone it to perfection — what else did she have?
Make no mistake: Uzi was a disruption. Unlike Lizzy, the goth was never one to text during class. Was. Now, Uzi seems to spend all day glued to her phone. It’s obvious: she’s made a new friend — or something more? No amount of rumor or gossip can’t figure out who.
J ruined everything. She was a monster; she’d do anything for the company; she’d never change.
And what do you do with monsters? Uzi knows how this story goes: You slay them.
Because even when she fails, even with another way right in front of her, J would rather die than admit she was ever wrong. She’d never change, so, unfortunately, she has to die.
Doors. Frickin’ doors. Remember when all your problems were as simple as shut the hatch and lock it twice? No, you don’t. You’re too young. Outpost-3 only stood secure for what, a year?
Then Saint Nori and Brother Khan went and faced down the robo-vampires and the very harbinger of the company. Saved them all with power of truth, justice and the Doorman way. Tragically stepped through the door to robo-Heaven in the process — classic martyrdom stuff.
What if J and Uzi swapped places? Okay, that doesn’t work — you couldn’t try to find two drones more inseparable from their identities as disassembler and worker. But if you swapped some other things around? How close could you get?
Would they still fall in love? Obviously. But how?
I have a few ideas, so here’s a quick lil write-up.
Spend too long in the dark, and light is blinding, even painful. Uzi’s lived a life neglected and alone, but N’s smile could brighten any darkness. His squad leader wants him dead, and Uzi needs to know who her mother was. Knowledge is power — but power is for destroying things.