2.1 Freedoms

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Jason wet himself unceremoniously, sobbing and short of breath, as he stared at the corpses of his murdered brethren. It had been almost a day of waiting while being left completely out of the loop, that had fried his nerves. Not that he had nerves of steel before, he was a coward at heart, which was why he had joined the largest, most organized and safe security force on earth. He had never even dreamed that his job would lead him here, lost on a foreign planet, facing execution alone. That was unless you counted the brute of a man holding the magnum to his head, his parasite infected sidekick or the stolen Andy that they had with them.

"Get the fuck out of here!" The big man said waving the gun. "Go on run!"

Jason didn't move, he didn't dare. Instead he bawled harder until he almost hurled.

"For fuck's sake are you going to go or shall I shoot you right here?" Knapp growled at him.

"Please don't shoot me." Jason begged.

"Well then, get the fuck out of my sight." Knapp said lowering his magnum.

Jason took the chance to jog steadily away from the scene, not daring to turn his back fully, rather he craned his head as he ran, not taking his eyes off the gun for a second.

"And you didn't think I had it in me." Knapp sneered at Scott as their captive disappeared from sight amongst the purple foliage of nearby flora.

"I never said that." Scott protested slightly surprised that the cop had read him that easily. "How long do you think he will last without a breather?" He asked, fishing his own from his pocket.

"Who knows." Knapp said impassively. "There is oxygen in the atmosphere enough to survive."

"Sure but I still wouldn't want to be him." Scott finished, fitting the device and relishing the extra oxygen it provided.

His throat was sore from just the short time they had stopped to talk, he didn't want to think about what the solider's would be like after a day or two of breathing unfiltered. Nervously he knelt over one of the bodies sliding a combat knife from its sheath that was still strapped to the dead mans leg. The blade looked new, 'probably is' thought Scott replacing blade and slowly unbuckling the unit.

It wasn't the gunshot as much as the warm wet feeling that ripped across his back that made him start. With a half conscious push forward, he threw himself to the ground next to the corpse. On instinct alone he reached for his shrapnel gun only to find it not there. For a second his heart leaped as Knapp towered over him before a second shot sent another splash across his face. The cop fell to his knees, magnum sliding from his hand to fall harmlessly into the dirt as blood soaked his shirt thoroughly. A spasm sent the large man crashing forward his last breath kicking up dust as it gurgled to its conclusion. His back a shredded mess of shirt, meat and spine.

Standing while still clutching the recovered knife in his left hand Scott stared at the Andy unit. His gun looked extra menacing in the machine's metal grip, its large lenses unblinking and completely unreadable.

"So she was right then?" Scott asked, doing his best to shake the uncomfortable feeling that the armed robot gave him.

"Quite likely." The Andy replied at a modest volume.

"So you weren't sure?" Scott asked puzzled.

"I detect suspicious behavior patterns for a living, going by his body language and facial expressions before as well as all actions leading up to this point, I would give it an eighty five percent chance he was going to execute you." The bot stated plainly.

"I would have rather have been one hundred percent sure but eighty five is pretty high." Thinking of the word execute made Scott shiver once more, but that's what it would have been, a cold blooded execution. "Thanks."

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