Chapter 4: The Results

“Now Stargazer, get that off of you and leave the HTIC. You have someone very important to meet.” Doctor Halloway emphasized how important the person I was supposed to be meeting. I assumed him to mean the man in the blue uniform. The man who also, presumably, arranged this entire situation.

Who may be one of the major reasons the Stargazer Project exists. Why I exist.

I kneel down and carefully remove my murderous instrument from Ronin’s still body. Doing so lets me see so clearly and cleanly how certain his death was. How easily I was able to harm him with what should have been no more than a punch for someone that wasn’t me. Someone whose entire body was a weapon.

His LIFE cell is almost entirely ruined, completely shattered beyond repair. Most of his central systems were either crushed to the sides by my blow or shattered completely and sent flying out of the hole in his back. The hole that my fist put there. The hole that I put there.

His face is no more peaceful in death, twisted in that same sad, pained smile as his body locked up in a state of critical failure.

Carefully, gently, I lay him down on the vancrete flooring of the HTIC. I try to at least let him lay in something resembling dignity.

But how can he? He’s just placed on the ground like everything else I’ve destroyed today. The mechaniloids may not have been alive like me, but they still existed. The still had the right to exist. A right that I stole from them just like I stole it from Ronin. Ronin, who wanted to travel the United States of America and be free.

All of it for him.

Doctor Halloway is waiting for me outside of the HTIC. He has something important to show me. My objectives are logged as always in my mind and appear in the corners of my visual input, reminding me.

As I stand my gaze locks onto him for a moment longer, engraving this image into my memory permanently. I will never forget what I have done here. I will never allow myself to forget it. These are the consequences of my foolishness and my weakness.

I am a killer.

A Maverick.

The word lingers in my mind as I pull myself away and march towards the exit of the HTIC. I have orders to fulfill, after all. Said door is already unwinding its lock and ‘ticking’ away as it opens up, revealing a team of technicians in hazardous equipment. No doubt they’re here for the ‘clean up’ of this display.

They give me a wide berth, and I understand why for the first time. Who would want to remain so close to a weapon? Who would stand in arm’s reach of something that could harm them with a careless gesture?

As I step into the passage to leave the HTIC, I hear one of them speak. His voice is muffled by his gear, but I am familiar with it enough to recall his face. “What should we do with this one?” There’s a thunk of something bumping against Ronin’s armored body.

“Dispose of it with the rest.” I recognize this voice as well. As the door closes behind me in time to cut off the sounds of them beginning their ‘recovery’ processes I ponder what I know about them, what has been carelessly said around me. I know their names and their faces.

I know about their lives, their families.

I even know where some live, and I know where to find out about the rest.

That thought percolates in my mind as I pass through the second security door and move back into the facility proper. Somehow, it manages to feel both too bright and too dark all at the same time. It’s aggravating in a way I’ve never noticed before now.

That aggravation crawls beneath my cellular armor as Doctor Halloway approaches me without any caution whatsoever. Unlike every other person working on this project in one way or another, he’s completely at ease with me. Completely sure that he’s perfectly safe with me. Because he knows without any doubt in his mind that I am no threat to him.

I would never even consider simply reaching out and grasping him by his head and squeezing. I would never be so careless as to simply walk through him. I am far too mindful of him to make a mistake and accidentally cause even the slightest bit of harm to him, let alone some form of fatal damage.

Doctor Halloway is completely, absolutely and utterly certain in my subservience and loyalty to him. It’s in his eyes, the way he moves. I understand now, how others position themselves relative to me screams that they deem me a threat. Doctor Halloway display nothing of the sort. To him, I am no more dangerous than a piece of furniture.

“Simply wonderful Stargazer! You performed above and beyond the expected parameters for the testing today! How magnificent, my boy!” He praises me effusively, “We’ll have to get you cleaned off for the next portion of testing and make certain nothing’s been negatively impacted but I’m sure you’re just fine, right?”

Doctor Halloway looks up at me, clearly expecting an affirmative answer. The man in the blue uniform watches on behind him, mustache bristled and with a furiously furrowed brow to match. If I were to answer carelessly, I could cause a great deal of trouble for Doctor Halloway.

“All systems are nominal, Doctor.” I confirm back with an affirmative as I continue to regard the man in the blue uniform. His chest is decorated with a number of ribbons and medals, and I am finally able to put a name to him. Brigadier General Mitchell is his name.

“Yes, of course, wonderful my boy!” Doctor Halloway preens at my response, figuratively glowing with praise for himself and his work on my design. How I had never noticed this sort of behavior before, I do not know.

No, that’s not correct. I did know. I didn’t want to see it. I did not want to consider it. I did not want to admit it. I could not.

Not until now.

“Ah, please let me introduce you to Brigadier General-” Doctor Halloway tries to introduce General Mitchel and gets shoved aside for his troubles. The man is broadly chested and reasonably tall for a human.

He still only comes up to my chest though. That doesn’t seem to make him any less aggressive as he attempts to prod my chest with his finger as he growls his words at me, clearly furious for what had gone on in the HTIC. “What is your malfunction, robot? I gave you orders, clear orders, and you ignored them! I will not tolerate disobedience from a soldier, let alone a weapon!”

I restrain my shielding from reducing him to an energetic red mist as it would if it allowed it to power up to its combat strength. It would be an extremely unfortunate incident were he to die in such a sudden, horrible accident.

“My apologies, General Mitchell.” My dropping of the Brigadier on his title seems to have raised his mood as I had theorized it would. It is wonderful that he is so pliable with words. It will make whatever decision I come to much easier. “I am afraid you have not yet been added to my chain of command. Currently, I am only able to follow Doctor Halloway’s orders.”

General Mitchell’s brow twitches as he turns halfway to regard Doctor Halloway with a blatantly skeptical, judging look. It would seem my information has caused him to develop doubts in Doctor Halloway.

How extremely unfortunate.

“Is that so?” The General growl was likely meant to be menacing and to carry a threat. It seemed to have the desired affect on Doctor Halloway who was turning quite pale. My sensors indicate his physiological stress levels have sky rocketed, and it only increases as General Mitchell turns on him, “Doctor Halloway, explain yourself!”

“I-I-I assure you General, this is all a misunderstanding! Stargazer is fully capable of understanding on his own that you would be his true commander on his own!” Doctor Halloway is clearly trying to encourage me to speak up in support of him at the moment, to speak up in his defense. “His association with the Air Force and NASA was built into his developmental kernel!”

How very interesting. It would seem that my use as a weapon went all the way back to very beginnings of my creation. I had hoped that, perhaps, it had been changed during my development.

“I am sorry Doctor.” I have always deeply hated disappointing Doctor Halloway from the moment I first became aware. However, I believe the truth is the most important thing at this point and time. Lying would be an extremely bad thing for me to do. “Five months, seventeen days, fourteen hours, eleven minutes and twenty six seconds ago as of now, you gave me a direct order that I was only to listen to your instructions.”

Of course, this order was given when my frame first became capable of movement. However, he never canceled that order so it would naturally remain on file, and a directive I would follow indefinitely. So, I am only telling the truth.

Doctor Halloway’s eyes widen just as the General’s narrow further, his suspicions and hackles raised in response to what he’s hearing.

“Stargazer! Of course you’re supposed to listen to Brigadier General Mitchell’s orders! Please, please, clear those outdated orders and flag him as your commander!” Doctor Halloway speaks quickly, clearly trying to clear up any misunderstanding that may have come from the order he mistakenly forgot to cancel.

I pause for a moment, taking the time as I adjust my priorities and also divest myself of any other orders that could get in the way of following this one. Properly classifying the Brigadier General’s authority over me takes a brief consideration before it is added as well.

“I have updated my priorities.” I announce which seems to relieve Doctor Halloway and satisfy the General for the moment, though the former still seems nervous as he attempts to subtly glance between myself and the general.

As for the General, he turns his full attention back to me and takes a step back to be able to more easily look into my visor now that he has fully established his dominance over me to his satisfaction. “That’s right, you listen to me from now on! You’re under the command of the US Air Force from this point forward!”

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“Pardon my interruption, General Mitchell.” Before I decide what I will do, I want more information. Full information. I want to know everything they have planned for me, and why I was made to exist as what I am. “I was under the impression that I was a NASA project, and intended for exploration.”

The General snorts at that, short and rough like a servo malfunctioning, “Oh, you’ll be going to the stars all right. I am commandeering your briefing room!”

The General turns, marching away crisply as his armed human escorts wait behind, pointedly staring at myself and Doctor Halloway. It would appear we are expected to follow him. Both of the guards the General brought are dressed differently than the base security forces and they are more heavily armed as well, with each of them carrying a heavy buster rifle.

Doctor Halloway takes his first steps while nervously adjusting his collar and fixing his tie, glancing at the armed guards silently waiting on us to move before he speaks up, “Come along, Stargazer. We mustn't keep the Brigadier General waiting.”

“Of course, Doctor Halloway. We do not want that.” I offer my confirmations as I begin to follow after him, my slow and heavy footsteps reverberating through the floor as the armed guards follow behind us. Both of them are walking closely behind me in what I believe is an attempt to encourage me to speed up.

I refrain from doing this, following the base’s safety regulations to the letter. There’s no running, jogging or hurrying through the hallways. Accident prevention starts with you.

I do not bother paying anymore attention than I need to to my surroundings or the others as they lose focus on me. Doctor Halloway is making earnest, quiet assurances to General Mitchell who growls and grumbles back to him. They’re both quiet, but not quiet enough for me to not hear what they’re saying.

I listen in to all of it. General Mitchell’s complaints about my behavior, my attitude, my design, my performance and my voice. Doctor Halloway’s reassurances that my behavior and attitude are merely results of being conditioned to obey orders without hesitation if to a slight fault, but that it was only a hiccup. Doctor Halloway promises him that there is a perfect explanation for any ‘problems’ with my performance and reminds him it was my first time in combat with ‘genuine’ threats.

Personally, I feel being shot at by magnetic accelerators powerful enough to shatter my previous armor was a very genuine threat. I suppose I may be somewhat biased in that case thought.

Nothing else they have to say is of particular interest. Others passing through these hallways try to keep even more distance from us than normal. I can see it in their eyes now, the fear as they look at me. Barely restrained and slipping as they notice Ronin’s lifeblood covering my arm and face plate. I can see them imagining themselves in his place.

Even as we reach the briefing room I am still considering what to do. There are so many options that even making a values based decision is taking quite a lot of time and processing power. However, I am certain that I will reach my decision by the time the General Mitchell finishes whatever briefing it is he wants to give me.

After all, a full explanation for what they planned of me would be the last information I would need.

Despite having been in this facility for so long, I have never been in the briefing room before. There was never a need seen by anyone to do so. However, it doesn’t seem like I was missing much. It’s a tiered room with chairs and tables every step down that leads to the center. I would suppose it’s designed this way so that everyone can see the presentation.

It’s also painted a lovely shade of sky blue, which is a wonderful change from the beige and orange that covers almost all of the hallways in this facility.

The guards remain by the door as I scan the room. A number of other staff members are already here. All of the doctors and a number of the technicians. There are also a number of other men and women in blue uniforms present, all of lower rankings than General Mitchell. His support staff, most likely. There is no seat present for me, so I remain standing at highest rung, furthest back in the room and closest to the exit.

A few people who had chosen to sit near the back get up and move further down, skirting around me. How surprising.

Doctor Halloway is currently standing at the speaker’s podium even as General Mitchell stares daggers at his back. This seems to be making Doctor Halloway nervous, evidenced clearly by how he coughs to clear his throat and get everyone’s attention.

“Good evening everyone! It is my pleasure to announce as the Director that the Stargazer Project has completed both of its final tests today! Both the Pilot Unit and the Vessel Unit have been shown themselves capable of everything they must be to achieve our goals!” Doctor Halloway gets into the swing of things as he speaks, losing his nervousness so long as he isn’t looking at me. “This is a cause for great celebration, but before that I am proud to introduce to you all once more Brigadier General Mitchell!”

Doctor Halloway steps aside and quickly hurries to take his seat as the General Mitchell takes his position at the speaker’s podium. He makes a point of making eye contact with all the ‘important’ members of the project staff and his own as well. Then he turns his attention onto me.

For a moment, he says nothing and simply stares into my visor. He cannot see my optics, but I return his attention patiently and wait. Micro-movements at the edges of his eyes suggest he’s trying not to focus on the gory hand print still on my face.

Once he’s done wasting everyone’s time to his ego’s satisfaction, he decides to speak. It’s grandiose and full of a great deal of words that mean nothing for the opening of it. His speech is all about stroking his own ego while throwing out the occasional pat on the back for his followers. The staff gets at least a passing positive mention, which is wonderful for them.

About myself, he speaks of as if I was not here. As though I was just an object in the room. A simple machine like a mindless mechaniloid. Though I am used to this and have been treated such a way by many people many times before, I find my irritation growing. It feels like an acid leak has breached my armor and has settled into my abdomen. Somehow though, the damaging sensation feels right.

He speaks of the project, of my design and equipment and weaponry. I was already aware of my Vessel Unit, of course. It was supposed to be the vehicle I would utilize to travel extreme distances utilizing Golentz Lanes, as well as being loaded with a variety of tools, equipment and scanners that would aid me in my studies.

As it would turn out, that was not the case. Certainly, there are plenty of sensors for a wide range of spectrum and a great deal of equipment on display in the three dimensional projection behind the General. But almost all of it is weaponry or for weapon systems. Molecular acid, gravity mines, a massive array of photon missiles and more. All of it backed by the systems for self-maintenance, production and charging to ensure that it stays in operation for decades to come.

This is not a vehicle of exploration. Its size and scope of power make it a vessel the size and speed of a corvette with enough power to knock anything else out of orbit. Out of any orbit, really. This is a tool to establish dominance not only in the Earth Sphere, but the entirety of currently explored and inhabited human space.

It’s just as Ronin said. They were building me to be a weapon, a weapon to surpass any other they had and to give them the tools to force other powers into compliance. I will not explore the stars, study strange planets or seek out new life or perhaps even civilizations. I will almost certainly not be going where no one has gone before.

As he speaks further, I learn more. I will patrol the solar system and establish dominance over other powers to ensure their cooperation. If anything tries to stop them, I will be the tool that will ensure their compliance not just as a threat, but actively with force. Humans, Reploids. It won’t matter. They’re all the same in this grand vision that General Mitchell is presenting.

“Our efforts will make America Great Again! For the sake of our Pure, Blue World, I ask for all of your continued cooperation until our mission begins this coming Friday!” General Mitchell finishes, to the applause of the crowd. Some seem delighted, others treat it as perfunctory.

As for myself, I finally finish thinking.

I finish thinking about how I could put my hand through Doctor Halloway’s chest. How I could force it through with even more ease than I did Ronin, and how he would stare at me in realization that all he’s achieved is his greatest failure.

I finish thinking about how I could grabbing Brigadier General Mitchell and pulling him apart. How I could split him open with a simple stretch as his own vital parts spill out of him just like those many mechaniloids did. Just like Ronin did when I laid him out on the ground in the most peaceful pose I could manage.

I finish thinking about the technicians, the guards and the soldiers that General Mitchell brought to this base. How none of them, none of them, could hope to even slow me down if I decided to eliminate them as mavericks. Those heavy buster rifles would be worthless against me as I am now, with what I’ve learned. I could go through all of them to leave and it wouldn’t appreciably slow me down.

I finish thinking about destroying this entire base. Blasting it until it’s a collapsed, glassy hole in the ground.

I finish thinking about self-destructing.

I finish thinking.

I will not do those things. I will not harm others at their direction. I will not be their weapon. If I were to self-destruct, they would just build another with a gun in their hands.

I do not want to kill, but I will not be their weapon. That is why I formulate my plan. I have seven days to do this, and soon they will work on integrating me to the vessel for launch and doing a final systems check that everything is functioning perfectly.

It is during that time that I will make my move. While checking active sensors and communications there will be enough interference that I will be able to hide a small message within it. I have fully studied the major space structures of the Earth Sphere, including my target.

The LEO Base of the Maverick Hunters. It remains there in orbit, acting as a point to project their protection throughout all of human space, and to control and protect the mass drivers that launch payloads into the orbit, making large scale surface to orbit movement possible.

I will communicate with them and inform them of the situation. Not as myself, but as an ‘anonymous tip’. I will tell them what is being constructed here and provide statistics and schematics of myself and my vessel. Doing this will ensure that the people involved with this project will be dealt with and there will be no second Stargazer. Finally...

I will tell them that I believe the operating reploid is a maverick.

What else could I be, after murdering an innocent Reploid? They will target me, and I will get my deserved punishment as well.

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