Murder Drones : Born From Ashes REDUX

Don't Worry, Be Happy!

Sector P12 is defined by one thing, its natural barriers from outside forces. The core collapse led to the plates of the planet to jut and shoot out like blades. These formations reach to the sky, the plates surrounding P12 were made of solid granite, they created hateful spikes and mountains that serve as vantage points and natural barriers from any adversary.

P12 became the base of operations for the ULU. It is where troopers are born, raised, and trained to fight back against the disassembly drone menace.

The aggressive march droned on for hours.

Uzi made leaps and bounds on the first day of bootcamp. The first rule was to never look back. The second rule was to fight with dignity. The third was discipline. Her bunkmate was Yanice, a worker drone who was abandoned by her traveling group, according to her. Uzi pitied her at first, though the pity turned to rage. Bootcamp was just a fancy word of natural selection. There was no need for these exercises, as drones do not physically atrophy like humans. The goal was to cull the weak. The drill instructor made sure that Yanice's inferior power supply and muscles would become a burden to them.

If Yanice coughed they would have to do 100 pushups. If Yanice's finger twitched or had an input delay of 0.01 seconds they would have to do 100 pushups. Yanice would be starved each time. Yet she didn't die, that was until the instructor discovered she had been stockpiling oil in her footlocker. Now they were to run, until Yanice died.

Uzi looked to Yanice who began to wheeze and cough, her lungs being unable to cycle temperatures to maintain form with the rest of the group.

"I don't know what I've been told!"

"I'm the brave and I'm the bold!"

"I've got no parents waiting for me!"

"MAM is my brand new mommy!"

Yanice collapsed. Uzi glanced lightly behind herself to see the look of pleading, and another drone about to plant their foot into her ankle before she continued forwards. The footsteps behind Uzi were briefly accompanied by the grunts and clanking of metal and plastic shells, then a sudden crack.

Keep looking forward. Don't look back.

"You stop when I say you do!"

--

When the drill instructor finished brutalizing a trainee for not being able to properly hold his M1 Garand as prescribed by MAM, he began another order. Down about 200 meters was Yanice's body.

"MAM only wants the strong! You must be ready to cull anyone who poses a threat to MAM! Am I clear?"

"Sir yes sir!"

"Aim!" Uzi's hard drive sped up, her teeth chattered, her lips curled up.

"Fire!"

The flash produced by the .30-06 was blinding, the kick was even greater. She had to feel good. Down range Yanice's body rocked back and forth for each bullet that hit her. Suddenly she heard a loud burst of gunfire from a drone stumbling back from the uncontrollable spray of his M1 Garand. The magazine pinged and shot from the receiver, hitting the floor at the same time the drill sergeant bashed his jaw with his fist.

Uzi held her voice back, she looked away from the crying boy on the floor, she kept her rifle against her body. She had to ignore that Yanice's mouth was moving.

"Private! I want you to shoot this machine!"

Uzi imagined what she couldn't see. The boy's jacket spattered with oil coming from his mouth. His arms curled up in a fetal position, crying for his momma to take him away from the suffering.