14.Dec.07

 Cybertronian Events

Part One

By: Blazemane

            Author’s note: I finished the first fiction in this series on Memorial Day (May 28). It’s now July 20^th. I haven’t been able to piece together the rest of the story, so I think if I just start typing it, that eventually even though I’ll probably be dissatisfied with some of it, I can get the hard part of the series done and I can move on. I’m excited about one detail in here, so I guess it’s not like an annoyance to write it. Continuing on…

            It had been a relatively easy day, although as always he was bored and was more than happy to get home. Being a guard at the Cybertron Database was generally boring. This was mainly because anybot who would have any kind of idea of attempting anything illegal at the C.D. quickly decided against it, as nearly everyone knew how heavily guarded it was.

            The C.D. was the Cybertronian version of a library. There was plenty of information which was freely available to be viewed and even downloaded by anybot who so desired. It had only the greatest virus and spy ware protection systems. It was one of Cybertron’s most prided computer systems and for good reason. It had never crashed in its one-hundred and forty-three stellar-cycle existence.

            However, for all its help for the general public it also had important information which could be accessed only by government officials and select employees of the C.D. Having been a security guard at the C.D. for 52 stellar-cycles, Galeforce was a very trusted and in this case “select” employee. Because of that reason, as Galeforce drove home, he was selected by others for a vastly different purpose.

            He didn’t remember why he felt as uneasy as he did that night when he drove through that last alley. Nor did he remember what hit him first, the missile on his right front door or the eyebeams on his left headlights. No matter which one it was, he was flipped onto his hood by the impact.

            “Transform this instant, and if you make so much as an engine rumble, you will be terminated on the spot.”

            Galeforce complied. He had years of combat training, but such things often come to naught after a sneak attack. Galeforce could tell there were two robots, but they were hiding in the shadows, so, he thought to himself, he wouldn’t be able to give a very successful description to the police.

            “Seeing as this would be a hard thing for any robot to go through, I’ll make this extremely simple. We know all about you Galeforce. We know of your work at the C.D., and we also know you have been granted access codes to highly classified information. Simply hand over the chip which contains the codes and we will leave you alive and with no further injuries.”

            Galeforce had always been a stoic ‘bot… “You won’t be able to get the chip if I don’t give it to you, so I could merely say no and there’d be no point in killing me.”

            “Incorrect. For if you do not hand over the chip, me and my associate will immediately destroy you, and painstakingly remove every panel in your body until we find the compartment where the chip is contained in order to retrieve it.”

            Reluctantly, Galeforce opened a compartment on his arm and held out the chip. He began passing it to the unseen speaker. Suddenly he gripped it in his hands in an attempt to crush it. A look of frantic panic spread over his face as the chip stubbornly refused to crack.

            “I knew making these out of Tironium was a bad idea” he thought to himself as a purple laser hit his chest near his spark chamber. He fell over against the alley wall as the chip dropped out of his hand onto the ground. The unseen talker grabbed it, then he and his associate left the alley.

            …too stoic.

* * *

            Quickrim strolled into the office of the robot that ran the agency he worked for. This “agency” was actually a division of secret government agents trained for fighting and high priority detective work. Quickrim immediately noticed his leader was not in a good mood.

            “The media and the C.D. are insane! It’s as if they decided to be stupid together! A ‘bot who works there nearly gets scrapped, and high priority codes are stolen. They should’ve raised security secretly and merely waited for suspicious activity, but no, let’s close down the whole C.D. and tip off the high threat attackers that the government is after them by broadcasting it on t.v. for the whole world to see!”

            Quickrim waited a moment for him to calm down and then asked. “Sir, what is the mission you called me for?”

            The robot responded. “Well, truth-be-told I was going to ask you to investigate this attack. I don’t know if that’s such a smart idea anymore” he said giving another sullen look at the TV broadcasting news of the C.D. being closed, security there being raised, and indeed the government’s intention to find the attackers and the chip.

            “Well, when was the C.D. closed sir?”

            “Four hours after the attack”

            “Sir, if I’m not mistaken the place that the guard was attacked was a mere fifteen minutes away from the C.D. If they had four free hours to be at the C.D., is it not conceivable that they viewed the information they wanted in that time, especially knowing that whether secretly or obviously, security would be looking for them soon?

            “So what are you getting at?”

            “Well sir, since the media has tipped the attackers off, what’s the point of keeping pretenses? Sir, I request an opportunity to be granted clearance at the C.D. so that I can personally investigate it.”

            Quickrim’s boss conceded. Quickrim was leaving, but then stopped at the door. “Sir, did you say nearly scrapped?”

            “Yes.”

            “So he’s alive sir?”

            “Yes. One of his attackers took a cheap shot at his spark, but it was narrowly missed.”

            “That’s good to hear sir.”

* * *

            The C.D. was a large building with twelve equal sides. When one went in the main entrance, they went up a large ramp which led to a long wide hall with a central computer. This was used only by robots with exclusive access. Along the halls were doors, there were twelve of them, six on either side. Above each door was a number, and above the numbers were screens which showed another number representing the number of spots which were available in that room. In each room was a large circular computer. This computer had one-hundred and eighty separate screens coming off of it; one placed every two degrees, as a circle is made of three hundred and sixty degrees. With each of these screens there was an advanced keyboard, which was used for searching for information and any other necessary tasks.

            When Quickrim arrived at the C.D, he went in the hall to the central computer and entered the correct code to be granted access to it. He then checked for the records of all the classified information viewed and/or downloaded in the four hours between when Galeforce was attacked and when the C.D. was closed. A list soon came up which pinpointed all the files which matched that description. It also showed exactly what room the information was seen in and which exact screens in that circle the information was seen in. Fortunately, the only classified files viewed in that time period were viewed at two separate screens in one room, room number three. Quickrim went in room three to look at those files.

            When Quickrim arrived, he went to the closest necessary screen to view. Screen twenty-seven.   The list consisted of one folder (some list). The folder was simply called golden disc. It had a status bar that read downloaded. Quickrim then noticed something strange. Each screen showed a list of numbers one through one-hundred and eighty, each representing a screen. All the screens that weren’t currently being used were lit up in yellow. But another number aside from twenty-seven was unlit: one-hundred and five, which was basically on the other side of the circle. But Quickrim wasn’t concerned where the screen was.

            “Base one, please come in.” he said as a voice of slight panic was slowly taking him. It was his leader who responded.

            “Agent E, this is Wirecat, are you encountering trouble?”

            “Sir, I think there may be a security breach, but I need to check first.”

            Quickrim walked over to the other booth. As he was going, he realized the other screen being used was the other one classified information was viewed on last night. More panic came. Was it the attackers? Was it somebody else? Remaining as he quiet he could, he increased his pace to the other screen. On his way, he noticed a grisly sight. A guard lay lifeless on the ground with a gaping hole in his chest. There’d be no helping him. Quickrim was too close to the other robot, whoever it was, to radio base, and he didn’t want to lose any time by going backwards to talk. Action was needed now!

            Finally he rounded the last part of the curve and he was able to see screen one-hundred and five. But… there was nobody there. Quickrim was about to run back to the entrance to room three to try to catch what he assumed would be a running assassin, when he noticed keys on the keyboard were moving and the screen kept switching between files. Suddenly the typing stopped. Quickrim noticed to his horror and shock, two targeting lasers on his chest. Suddenly something snapped in him. This unseen foe would kill no more!

            “So that makes your second attempted murder. You do realize you failed to kill the ‘bot yesterday?” Quickrim stated coldly.

            A deep Russian accent replied back. “No, the one you undoubtedly saw on your way to me was my first one, and as you can see, I succeeded with him.”

            Quickrim couldn’t believe his audio receptors. How could one stand there and so candidly, so freely admit to killing. And the voice seemed to register an amount of enjoyment to what he was admitting. How dare he? Quickrim hardly ever felt such hatred for someone he hadn’t even seen.

            “Why should I believe this is your first?”

            “I don’t think there is anything I can say that would make you believe a word of what I say. But, then again,” he chuckled with some relish, “I don’t have to make you believe me.” Lasers continued to probe Quickrim.

            “I beg to differ!” With that, Quickrim went on the ground and slid towards what he didn’t see. He was rewarded by the feeling of having kicked metal and hearing a heavy body hit the ground.

            “Oh, I don’t have time for this!” shouted the enemy as he blasted two holes into a nearby window. Quickrim could hear the enemy running and chased him. He didn’t realize they were now both jumping into nothingness from a tall building until they were in the air. As the invisible ‘bot expected and Quickrim did not, they both landed on a flying craft near the building. They stayed on this until it flew them close enough to a road (as Cybertron does have so many roads on so many different elevations). Both desiring firm ground, they jumped onto this road. The enemy quickly pulled out his guns again, and Quickrim pulled a bottle of oil, since he always kept a spare. He threw the bottle with stunning velocity and in perplexed delight watched the plastic shred as it exploded in what appeared to be midair. The oil spouted out in any direction it could find. A lot of it sat frozen in space at odd intervals, revealing the shape of an invisible robot upon which it sat. Frustrated, the enemy turned off his cloaking device to reveal a cat like shape, primarily colored black and silver.

            The cat shot multiple blasts at Quickrim, one of which hit him in the shoulder. As Quickrim was a car-like vehicle in his alternate form, two of his wheels were held near his wrists. Two wholes opened on both of these wheels. Quickrim started shooting twin gauss blasts out of them. The cat was hit directly in the chest by all four blasts and was knocked onto his back, but his armor wasn’t pierced. He quickly sprang back up on his feet and shot two expert blasts at Quickrim’s wheels. Both of the wheels exploded as the ammo inside them met lasers from the cat’s guns. This of course did some damage to Quickrim, but he wasn’t finished. However, the force of the explosion had sent him towards one of the sides of the road, and now he was hanging over the edge by one arm. The nearest road under him was fifty feet below. Quickrim tried to get back on the road, but found it a struggle.

            Another car transformer was speeding down the road unaware of the cat or Quickrim. When he rounded the corner, he noticed the cat. The cat looked in shock for a second, but then calmed down and simply jumped onto the hood of the car. Soon the car came near Quickrim.

            “Here, let me give you a hand.” said the cat as he grabbed Quickrim’s arm. The momentum of the car dragged Quickrim back onto the road, and the cat kept holding on. He looked on in twisted satisfaction as sparks flew off Quickrim’s body, which was being dragged on the road at full speed. Then the car neared an overhang. While Quickrim was on the road, he still was near the edge, and the overhang arched down in his way. The cat laughed maniacally. Quickrim saw what was coming to him and got an idea if his own. He gripped the cat’s arm. His enemy let go of him, but he held on with all the strength he could muster. Realizing the impending impact, the cat frantically attempted to get out of his grip, but to no avail. Quickrim hit the side of the overhang hard, and since he held onto the cat, the cat was pulled off the car rapidly and slammed into the wall inside the overhang, bricks flying off with his body.

            Both groggily struggled to stand back up. Quickrim couldn’t help himself. Despite his own injury he laughed loud and hard, until his sides hurt and tears of glee and vindication welled up in his eyes.

            “I will admit, it’s almost funny maximal agent,” said the adversary as he pulled out his twin blasters “almost.” He aimed his guns at Quickrim, but Quickrim gave him a double-legged dropkick. The cat’s frustration made him let go of his clear advantage as he holstered his guns and clenched his fists. “Fine then.”

            The cat kicked with his left leg towards Quickrim’s chest, but he blocked the leg with his right arm. The cat spun around with same leg in the air and swept at Quickrim’s head. He ducked, but with amazing momentum having been built up, the cat landed on his left leg as his right foot came up and made loud contact with Quickrim’s face. Quickrim flew onto his back.

            “Oh no buddy, this is my arena.” thought Quickrim in unquenchable frustration.

            He got up and ran at his adversary. The cat attempted to punch him, but instead of getting close enough, Quickrim flipped over him and on his way down, kicked the cat in his back with his right leg. The cat landed on his knees. He rolled backwards, and when he got on his shoulders near the top of his back, he jolted up with his legs in an attempt to hit Quickrim in the stomach. Quickrim nimbly went to the cat’s left side, and when the cat was rolling onto his feet, Quickrim kicked him in the face. The cat landed on his back as a result.

            Quickrim waited a moment for the cat to regain his footing. The cat angrily ran at Quickrim, and attempted to tackle him. Quickrim neatly jumped above him and the cat scraped the ground. With a determination rarely seen, the cat got up again. He punched at Quickrim, but Quickrim caught the fist. Quickrim then grabbed his adversary’s other arm. He hoisted himself up and with both legs, made a straight kick at face level. The cat fell over nearly unconscious.

            Just then, a very large transformer came driving by with multiple transformers in it (as strange as it may seem, many Cybertronian children grow up with the ambition to become a passenger vehicle. You always get to be driving around, and heck, it makes pretty good pay too). Both the cat and Quickrim had learned their lesson about this. They both ran to the other side of the overhang.

            “I’ve had enough of this.” said the cat. Just as the car was about to come to their side of the overhang, he grabbed Quickrim and threw him against the car. Glass was shattered and the metal on the side of the car was dented. Quickrim fell over dazed as the cat climbed onto the back of the car. He began climbing on the roof in order to get to the front of the car. Quickrim grabbed the back bumper just as the car would have gone out of his reach. Sparks flew again as he was dragged by the car, but this time he was the one holding onto the car, and he climbed onto the car, and then the roof quickly. As the car sped on, Quickrim and his enemy faced each other on opposite sides of the car roof. The cat was frustrated. He grabbed his guns again and began firing at Quickrim. Quickrim was hit in chest and the laser actually hit some internal wires, but his spark wasn’t even nearly touched. Quickrim got closer, and then tackled the cat. They both landed on the car hood. The cat threw what for even professional boxers would have been a beautiful punch, which hit Quickrim’s face with a sickening thud. The cat took advantage of Quickrim’s temporary daze and actually got the balance to stand on the hood. Panting heavily, he aimed both his lasers at Quickrim’s head.

            “This wasn’t an easy fight, I’ll give you that.” said the cat. Quickrim noticed they were about to round a corner. The nearest road under them was still far below. He gripped either side of the car since the windows were rolled down.

            “When would you like to schedule the next one?” It was all the spunk Quickrim could muster, meager as it was.

            “Oh, I’m afraid you’re going to have to miss it.” laughed the cat triumphantly. Quickrim looked past the cat and judged they were close enough to the corner. He had been trained to be flexible. He swung his left leg around and inside the car where he found the break and pushed it. The car came to a screeching halt, as the cat flew over the corner. Quickrim held on for dear life. When the car stopped moving, Quickrim climbed off the hood and looked over the edge of the road. Quickrim noticed a dent where the cat landed on the first road below them. The cat, however, had bounced off and fallen to another road beneath that one. Quickrim had to zoom with his optics to see him at all. Right where he was, the cat vanished.

            All the passengers in the large transformer climbed out confused and shocked. When everyone was out, even the driving car transformed. They all asked Quickrim what was going on.

            “I’m not sure.” he responded.

            Then his comlink turned on.

            “Agent E, this is Wirecat. Is there a security breach?”

            Quickrim’s face dropped in enraged disbelief.

            “Yes sir.”

* * *

            At Quickrim’s headquarters, his leader was again not in a good mood.

            “So somebot, and you don’t believe it was the original attackers, got access to the C.D., and not only did you fail to bring him in or even find out his motives, you don’t even have the slightest idea who he was! Quickrim, the description you gave us of this ‘bot doesn’t match anything in any records we have. And I assume you didn’t find any information that looked like something last night’s attackers could have looked at.” Quickrim did accept this for a moment, but then an idea came to him. One that was so farfetched and yet, with all that had happened that day it almost made sense.

            “Sir… I did find…” he couldn’t bring himself to say something seemingly so stupid.

            “Quickrim, nothing you say could seem like nonsense anymore. You’ve already exceeded that point.” With skeptical enthusiasm, he said “Please, elaborate.”

            Reluctantly, Quickrim did just that. “Sir, the file that I noticed was viewed in that four hour period… it was… it was…” He couldn’t, he just couldn’t…

            …He had too “…information on the golden disk, and it was downloaded sir.”

            Quickrim’s leader stood frozen for a few moments shocked, not by any chance of what the ‘bot in front of him just stated being true, but the sheer stupidity of it. Then his face brightened. He wasn’t going to miss this opportunity.

            “So you postulate that the attackers wanted information on the golden disk. Why? Ohhhh… maybe they wanted to see a picture of it. Maybe they wanted to see what type of information it contained. Or, oo, here’s a nice one. Maybe they wanted security information on it because they wanted to steal it. After all, it’s only Cybertron’s most carefully guarded relic.” stated Quickrim’s leader with more sarcasm than even he was used to.

            “Well sir…” said Quickrim hesitantly. His leader couldn’t believe his audio sensors.

            “Don’t tell me you actually think there’s any kind of chance of that?” More hesitation followed from Quickrim.

            “…Yes sir.”

            It was the first time Quickrim heard his boss laugh, ever.

* * *

            Torcher was a cop. But not just any cop; he was one of Cybertron’s elite. Put through stellarcycles of intense training and preparation, he and the other few elites were relied upon to get through some of the toughest situations and the most resilient crime rings.

            It was almost as though he hadn’t had a choice of occupation. There was an adventurous and fiery spirit in him as well as a desire to protect justice and stop dirt bags. As a result, he had wanted to be a cop since the age of five stellarcycles. He had no idea he’d end up going this far, but Torcher liked having gone that extra mile. It felt right, and despite the danger he often faced, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

            He checked to make sure he had his weapons, a pair of hand guns. They had borne him through many troubles, and he nearly cherished them. Transforming into a sleek orange motorcycle with blue highlights (of course being on Cybertron, he didn’t look exactly like an earth motorcycle) he started down the road.

            Because of the elite nature of the police force he was in, he often found himself working with maximal government agents. Today he was assigned with none other than Quickrim, although he had no idea what the situation was. He was often debriefed by the agents he worked with as to what was going on when he met them. He was actually quite surprised when he heard what Quickrim explained to him.         

            “So let me get this straight,” said Torcher nearly chuckling out of disbelief, “this is about the C.D. guard who got shot two days ago.”

            “I’ve already explained that a chip with high access codes was stolen from him. The C.D. has nearly limitless information about Cybertron on it, including security information for government sites.”

            “Yes, but isn’t the C.D. on guard now?”

            “Yes. More guards have been posted and all the security systems have programmed to block the codes from that chip now. In fact they’ve also been programmed to alert the leaders of the C.D. if those codes ever get used, but… But I don’t think it’s enough.”

            Torcher was understandably perplexed. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

            “I believe whoever took the chip got in the C.D. quick. Quicker than the C.D. was alerted there was any security threat.”

            “Do you have any proof?”

            “No, but yesterday I visited the C.D. while it was closed to the public. I checked to see if any classified info had been viewed in the four hours between the guard’s attack and the closing of the C.D. There were a few things that had been viewed, but I only got to check one of them. I ran into one of the strangest things that have ever happened to me. There was a black cat who was looking at classified information (with different codes, I checked afterwards). Basically we got in a fight and I won.”

            “What was the information that you got to check out?”

            “Promise me you won’t laugh; that’s what my boss did.”

            “No guarantees.”

            Quickrim sighed. “The file I saw was titled ‘Golden disk’.”

            Torcher thought for a moment. Then he put his hands on Quickrim’s shoulders. He started turning him slightly. “Could you turn around for a moment?”

            Quickrim was confused. “Uh… sure.”

            “Thanks.” Torcher waited for him to turn around. Then he suddenly busted out in a torrent of uncontrollable laughter.

            Quickrim turned around to face Torcher. “Thanks for your vote of confidence.”

            Torcher regained his composure. Then he got serious “You know I think you might be right though. What reason would anybody else have for looking at it? I can picture it now: ‘I’m bored. Ooo, I have an idea. How about I look at the security information for the golden disk?’  

            Both of them chuckled.

            “Still, we can’t confirm it. I mean even if we look at the security tapes of those four hours, we don’t know what the attackers look like.” Torcher noted.

            Quickrim considered. His face suddenly lit up. “That’s true, but maybe Galeforce does.”

            Torcher was still a little out of the loop. “Who’s Galeforce?”

            “He’s the guard who was attacked.”

* * *

            “I’ll talk to him.” explained Quickrim, “You wait outside this door.”

            Torcher chuckled, and in a sarcastic voice inquired “Are you expecting us to get attacked?”

            “Galeforce only needs one person to ask him questions, and… yes.”

            Torcher’s features dropped as Quickrim closed the door.

            Inside, Galeforce watched as Quickrim came closer. Quickrim showed him his badge.

            “So you’re a policeman? I told the first ones who asked me, I don’t know who these jokers were or what they looked like. I also told that to the second ones…” He turned his head and looked outside the window. He let out a sigh. “…and the third ones.”

            “I’m not a police man.” explained Quickrim. “I’m a maximal government agent.”

            Galeforce turned around and stared intently at Quickrim. “What kind of trouble do you think I’m in?”

            Quickrim tried to reassure Galeforce, and himself. “I can’t guarantee any. But I need to know everything I can about the situation.”

            “What do you need?”

* * *

            Outside the door a regular security officer was walking the halls on daily rounds. Naturally he was a little apprehensive when he saw Torcher standing outside the door, both his handguns looking obvious where they connected to his electromagnetic holsters.

            “Sir, do you have an i.d.?” asked the guard. Torcher produced his badge. “Very well, sir.” he was about to continue when Torcher noticed his gun.

            “Sir, can I see your gun?” At this, the guard whirled around, what-the-slag-is-your-problem written all over his face. Torcher noticed the look of utter disbelief on the security guard’s face. He grabbed one of his guns and tossed it to the guard who, nearly expecting to be attacked flinched at the gun being tossed to him and hardly caught it. “You can arm yourself with mine for the moment if you distrust me. Now can I see your gun?”

            The guard, still at a loss for any reason why Torcher wanted to do this, but in a slightly more trusting position tossed his gun to him. Torcher deftly caught it.

            “I’m sorry” Torcher explained, as he inspected the barrel, handle, and trigger with apparent relish “it’s just that I have some kind of fascination with handguns. I’ve had to rely on them for a while now and building the best ones I can is something of a hobby of mine.” Despite the… awkward situation, the guard tried to keep conversation.

            “What about rifles?”

            “Too bulky.”

            “Shotguns?”

            “Sporadic and bulky.” Torcher continued his inspection of the gun. “This is a fine piece of equipment.” The guard was happy to hear so. For somebody who seemed to be an expert in the munitions field, Torcher appeared as if he would make some snide remark about the gun being shoddy.

            “Well sir, I’m just a hospital security guard. I don’t think I’m ever going to have to worry about getting into any very high risk situations.” Torcher smiled.

            “I suppose not.”

* * *

            “Two, it was two of them.” answered Galeforce. “The one who was talking kept referring to his ‘associate’.”

            “What kinds of weapons were used against you?”

            “To tell you the truth, I can’t remember specifically. It happened rather quickly. But I believe the medical analysis stated I’d been hit by a missile and twin trained lasers. After that, a single laser pulse. Why does it even matter that much?”

            “I can actually find out a lot about your attackers based on their weapons.” Quickrim explained.  “In this case the missile and single pulse weapon isn’t that surprising; those can be obtained easily, but twin lasers suggest body mounted weapons, in this case, probably eye lasers. And if we’re going to assume body mounted weapons, we can consequently postulate one of them was an attack specialist, maybe a soldier of some sort.”

            “What about an assassin?” Galeforce asked.

            “I’d doubt it. An assassin wouldn’t be hired for thieving situations.”

            Galeforce contemplated. “You know, I’ve been wondering if there’s more to this than a robbery. After all, you’re a government agent. If it was just a few codes, it wouldn’t matter that much.”

            Quickrim answered “It’s true, I think there’s more to this than a robbery. But, I’m the only one in my agency who thinks so.”

            “I think you know something about this you’re not telling me.”

            “Naturally” replied Quickrim “there are a few things that I’m not allowed to tell you, or just about anybody for that matter.”

            “Well then” said Galeforce continuing his original train of thought “if my attackers did this for more than petty theft, I’d almost think…” he got a terrified look on his face and swallowed. “I’d almost think… they weren’t done with me. I mean my attack has been all over the news and it has been made publicly known that I survived. Even though they tried to finish me last night, they’d know by now that I’m still alive. Don’t you think they’d want to alleviate any chances of me telling anything I know about them?”

            Quickrim responded. “I don’t think you’re in much danger.”

            Galeforce chuckled. “Generally when government agents say that, what the really mean is ‘duck and cover’.”

            Quickrim tried to reassure him. “This hospital has weapon detectors and automatic x-ray machines at the door.”

            Galeforce noticed a slight look of doubt etched on Quickrim’s features. He pried. “But you don’t really think that’s enough do you?”

* * *

            Outside, the guard and Torcher were continuing their conversation.

            “So how far do you think yours could fire?” inquired the guard.

            A look of disdain covered his face. “Ah, these are supplied by the e.p.f. They can’t fire very far.”

            The security guard laughed really hard. “You just said, in a negative manner, these were supplied by the elite police force. Wo ho ho, what, hee hee, kind of, ha ha, guns are you used to using?”

            “Making guns has become something of an obsession of mine. I’ve made a lot more powerful guns. And yet,” he looked at his handguns with admiration “these e.p.f.’s have kind of grown on me.”

            A purple robot walked down the hall. He had streaks of yellow and was wearing a clean white medic’s apron. He was wheeling a cart tray with needles and bags of liquid on it.

            “Hello.” He said in an almost raspy voice. He was about to open the door to Galeforce’s room, when Torcher stopped him.

            “Hold on there, what are you here for?” The purple robot picked up a schedule off of the tray.

            He read out loud “Patient: Galeforce. da da da… administer two full doses of supplement at 6:30.” Torcher looked up at the clock at the end of the hall. It was indeed 6:30.

            “O.k.” he said “go ahead.” Torcher moved his eyes from the clock to a slanted mirror near it which revealed the hallway around the corner. There was a robot standing there in the reflection. Torcher had been in many strange situations before, but this was just about his limit. Was that guy carrying… a sword?

            Torcher threw his arm around the purple robot’s shoulder.

            He laughed in a mock friendly voice “No, I’m just kidding you dude. You can’t go in there right now.” The purple ‘bot’s face registered shock, fright and… guilt?

            “Why can’t I?” he inquired.

            With his arm still around the ‘bot’s shoulder, he looked into his face and explained “Because I have to fight you first.” With lightning speed he threw the purple ‘bot in a twirl. Simultaneously he whipped out his e.p.f. revolver and let fly high powered bullets into the ‘bot’s chest. Metal flew off him as he flew backwards. He fell onto his back with several bullet holes in his chest plate.  Torcher had been careful, however, to not even go near his spark chamber.

            This had all happened so fast that only now did the guard think to pull out the gun Torcher was had given to him. Torcher simply grabbed his handgun back from the surprised ‘bot.

            “Get into that room.” shouted Torcher. The guard quickly went into Galeforce’s room. Quickrim quickly pointed his quasar guns at the guard, startled by the sudden entry. The guard put up his hands in frustration.

            “I’m just the security guard” he protested, clearly flustered by the sudden turn of events which had occurred. Once Quickrim saw his badge, he put his wheel-guns down.

            Torcher saw the robot with the sword run closer to his hall in the mirror’s reflection, knowing that he too was being watched. He fired with the gun in his right hand, and watched in satisfaction as the mirror at the end of the hall ruptured into a spectacle of shattered glass. He then went into a groove on the right of the hall. About two seconds later, twin green beams cruised lethally down the hall. Farther down, the sound of wall get shredded by the hot light was heard. He waited for the laser blast to stop and then took a deep breath.

            Leaping out of cover, he viewed his adversary for a split second and fired. Torcher’s guns were by no means weak little toys. The robot with the sword kept getting shot in the chest plate with the high powered bullets, somewhat bouncing back with every shot. Suddenly he summoned all the strength he could to actually stare straight at Torcher despite the bullets being pounded into him. He fired his eye lasers near Torcher’s hands and watched in satisfaction as the offending handguns nearly shattered with the force of the laser blast. Torcher also did not fare so well. He was thrown backwards watching fragmented pieces of his guns dance over his head as everything in the world including himself seemed to be suspended in slow motion. When he finally landed on his back, he stared at his enemy who was walking over to him, sword in both hands pointed upwards. He viewed in contentedness the damage sustained by his enemy’s chest. Suddenly he saw his broken guns, or rather what was left of them. His mech fluid boiled. He would make this enemy pay if it were only for having destroyed those guns.

            Unfortunately, there were more pressing matters. Torcher was now unarmed, and his adversary had a sword and could fire off eye lasers at any moment. He quickly calculated his recourses. A cart tray, perhaps for partial cover and… alright, his recourses were limited. But he wasn’t going to look the part of a weakling. He stood up. He waited for the other to take a few more steps and then ran. Even as he ran, he was calling himself an idiot. The other ‘bot could fire at any moment and he would be scrap. For some reason, he actually managed to run close enough, and the other ‘bot swung with his sword.

            Torcher deftly dodged under as the sword whizzed over his back. The other guy spun around and then swung upward. Torcher stepped to the side and watched as the blade hissed by his face. He then gave a crushing blow to his opponent’s face, watching as part of the face plate crumpled under his fist. His opponent was thrown backwards, but as he was, he swiped his sword sideways. The blade sliced across Torcher’s belly. His enemy regained his footing. Torcher was on his knees holding his stomach. He removed his hands from their position and viewed the fresh mech fluid dripping off them. He then stared up at his enemy, who was poised victorious, ready to run in and claim the kill. He started running towards him.

             The first footstep fell as he watched his enemy. Torcher’s processor raced for any solution. Another step fell. He was closer. Light glinted threateningly off his steel, which was now laced with Torcher’s blue mech fluid. Torcher tried to connect why the purple bot had been a threat in the first place. Torcher had just had an instinct that the enemy he now faced was there to back the purple ‘bot when he fist saw him in the mirror. What could that purple bot have done anyway? Another footfall brought apparent death closer. The purple ‘bot only had medical supplies. He had needles, shots, bags, that kind of thing. Oh, that’s right- there were needles. Properly placed, even these small spikes could be potent.

            The opponent was about six steps away now. With impotent rage, and desperation, Torcher threw the needle as hard as he could. He watched in satisfaction it buried itself into the other ‘bot’s chest. He kept walking. Torcher had time to grab one more, but not to aim. Throwing blindly, Torcher landed the needle into the ‘bots leg. In surprised satisfaction, Torcher noticed red lines suddenly running all over the warrior’s body.

            Suddenly, the ‘bot dropped his sword, grabbed the purple robot and ran out a nearby window. They were on the first floor, so there was no fall involved. Outside, the now poisoned killer ran into a nearby alley with the other one. But Torcher didn’t have the energy to give chase.