Dark on the Waters [Dark Data]

[Proto Man]

Vision was talking—the android with the red skin was trying to formulate some sort of plan for disabling the ship’s ‘combat functionality.’ While Proto Man understood and could follow along with everything that his new companion was talking about, there was something… exhausting about all of it.

Exhaustion is a human emotion?

“Yea, I know.” Proto Man mumbled.

“What do you understand, Proto Man?” Vision inquired, his head tilted as he turned to look down at the smaller machine.

“Oh, nothing.” The robot muttered. “Just some thoughts.”

“Have you run diagnostics as well? Could you determine any additional sequences that might achieve our objective with a higher rate of success?”

“Uhh.”

Proto Man had no blood, bones, or internal organs. His brain was little more than a network of processors and chips concealed within a metal chassis and a synthetic flesh exoskeleton. Do I sound like that when I talk? Shaking his head to answer the question, the Vision’s eyes lingered for a few moments before he turned to the other two members of the group for answers to his queries.

With his focus shifting to the far wall, Proto Man scowled as his sensor started to work away at the landscape. Something was scrambling a few of his applications, and with the wifi down, he could only rely on his eyes to map the terrain around him.

“Is this ship stolen?” Proto Man asked without looking to his companions. “From the Empire, maybe?”

“Unlikely,” Vision replied promptly. “The unique design of the vessel and its armaments seems to suggest an 84.3 percent probability that this ship is not Imperial in origin.”

The preteen machine activated his Proto Buster and started toward the hatch at the far end of the room. They were somewhere near the back of the ship. Stern. The word popped up on the righthand corner of the robot’s visual display. “I mean, we’re gonna have to find your friend.”

“Ms. Ferguson.”

“Yes,” Proto Man muttered as he hoisted up the barrel of the weapon and charged a burst. A moment later, a few dozen charred shards of the metal door exploded outward into the corridor. Without waiting for a response from his companions, the preteen machine jogged out into the hallway and braced himself for the assault. Somewhere far in the distance, his synthetically augmented hearing picked up the sound of gunshots. With the Proto Buster leading the way, Proto Man fired a steady stream of fist-sized energy bursts down the hallway.

By the time he reached the midpoint, the situation went south.

The two dozen blighted marines concealed in the adjacent rooms stormed out and opened fire in both directions. By the time he knew what had happened, Proto Man was split off from the other members of his group by a double-wall of armed sailors.

Half a dozen bolts of energy crashed into the preteen machine’s chest, stomach, and shoulders. Teeth clenched, he threw himself backwards through the nearest doorway.

Down the other end of the hallway, he heard a cacophony of clanging steel and crackling energy blasts. By the time he made it too his feet, Proto Man already had a group of marines closing in on his position. Dressed as sailors, the blighted warriors toted heavy rifles in their hands that started to stich their way across the floor toward the preteen machine. Dropping back, the machine angled his weapon at the ground and fired a shotgun blast through the plated floor. As the steel buckled, he dove forward into the breech and rolled when he hit the bottom of the deck beneath.

Although inhibited by something, his sensors still had enough kick in them to highlight danger signatures approaching from adjacent chambers.

Move. Rendezvous later. Forward.

Calibrating his compass, Proto Man shifted and broke into a sprint.

639 words