Combat-Ready
Its pilot-body activated. It was spinning. It was falling through the open air. Threat assessment systems told it that it had 0.7 minutes to impact. It checked its flight logs. It had been inserted into its true-body 38 seconds ago. It checked its mission clock. This was not the designated mission start time. It checked its mission parameters. This was not the designated insertion point.
It activated its jets. It stabilized. Threat assessment systems told it that its new downward velocity was acceptable.
new parameters? It outputted. No response from Handler.
new objectives? It outputted. No response from Handler.
Friend or foe systems told it that a friendly vehicle was requesting support. It focused its optics on the target. Its drop ship was spinning and falling. There were multiple holes in it. One was in the mech bay. Another was in the engine. Its drop ship struck the earth. The request for support ended. No new parameters meant that the mission must continue without alteration. It flew towards the objective.
A final combat check was made when it entered the mission area. It registered numbness in its right arm and in the end of its left arm. It turned its optics to the left extremity and saw extensive damage to its left-side cannon. The weapon was non-functional. It looked at its right arm and saw an empty socket. A flash of memory: Its pilot-body looking down after its first surgery and seeing its arms and legs gone. It screamed then. It did not scream now. The second surgery fixed that. Friend or foe systems told it that enemy units, sub-type infantry ground transports, were entering combat range. Mission parameters stated that all enemy units were to be engaged. It increased its jet output.
It slammed into the first transport in the convoy at maximum speed. Target eliminated. Its true-body fed its pilot-body a chemical rush of positive reinforcement. Goosebumps and shivers covered its pilot-body.
thank you Handler. It outputted. No response from Handler.
It shook the remains of the transport off its true-body. The other transports were disembarking. An infantry unit held an Electromagnetic Pulse Cannon that was targeting it. It did not have time to evade.
A combat EMP at this range would kill the pilot-body. This had been designated by Handler as an unacceptable loss. It performed an emergency all-systems deactivation. Gravity reasserted itself on its pilot-body as its true-body fell backwards.
Darkness. Silence. Stillness. A hiss as the cockpit was opened. “Oh my god, is that the pilot?” an unfamiliar voice said.
“I guess so. I think she’s a woman but I’m not sure, what with all the wiring and shit in the way. Can you hear us?” a second voice said.
hearing check confirmed. pilot-body is combat-ready. It tried to output, but its transmission systems were offline. “They took...She doesn’t have any arms or legs!” the first voice said.
“Or eyes or mouth, it looks like. Look at how the tubes go into her face.” the second voice said.
It hears the cocking of a pistol. “It’d be a mercy to just kill her here. Look at what they did to her.” a third voice said. “Fucking evil pieces of shit.”
“Put that down.” a fourth voice said. “She’s a prisoner of war and we’re going to treat her like one. Just because they’re fucking monsters doesn’t mean that we get to do whatever we want.”
A thump next to it. “Help me cut all this wiring out of the way so we can pull her out.” the fourth voice said. There is a tug on its right leg socket. Then a squelch as one of its sensory inputs is pulled out incorrectly. The pain deactivates it.
