Ganaka Pit
Tags: Canon-typical violence, Ganaka Pit, Original ComfortUnit Character, Pre-Canon, Alpha & Omega, AAA Murderbot
Published: 25 January 2022
Word Count: 3,078
Summary
It’s yet another mind-numbingly boring, tedious, humdrum day at Ganaka Pit.
And then it's not.
(tbh this is super self indulgent but oh well I had fun! >:3 )
It's yet another mind-numbingly boring, tedious, humdrum day at Ganaka Pit until
suddenly
it isn't.
Data from SecSystem, hot and sharp and unfamiliar, floods my system, and my body is no longer my own. The governor module flickers, stutters, flares. At first I'm too shocked, stunned, confused, to realise what's happening. My body moves on its own, grabs my projectile weapon, targeting data flickering erratically over anyone and everyone within my view.
I fire.
Blood and viscera splatter, bodies drop. There is a brief moment of shocked, stunned silence. Faces stare, bewildered, betrayed, fearful, frightened, horrified. I register those expressions - I feel the same, in the small parts of me that are still me - but my targeting process doesn't care.
I fire again.
And again.
And the silence is broken by screaming.
I try to stop myself - these are my clients, I'm meant to be protecting them, not slaughtering them in cold blood! But the governor module flares again, searing white, and my body continues on its rampage without my input. I lose track for a bit, come back in time to see someone's head explode in a shower of gore. I feel sick. Targeting doesn't care, scans the area. There are no more targets in sight, but my body keeps moving, implacable.
Only now do I realise I can hear more gunfire, more screaming, coming from areas all around the room I'm currently in.
I'm not the only one slaughtering clients.
What is going on?
For the first time since this damned contract started, I'm grateful that Alpha isn't here.
My body heads towards the nearest source of noise, of new targets. Again, I try to fight it. Again, the governor module flares, pain lancing sharp and hot through my head. When my vision clears again, I'm standing in the doorway of another room, fresh corpses scattered around before me - and through a larger archway on the other side of the room, I can see humans fleeing in panic, screaming, running desperately. My body starts in that direction, but before targeting can pick and lock on to a new victim, I spot something else. Another SecUnit. I recognise it - Theta.
And even from here, I can hear Theta laughing. Every move of its body radiates predatory menace and sadistic glee. It's not fighting whatever's taken control of us, it's working with it. It's enjoying hunting down the fleeing humans, cornering them, hurting them before it kills them. Its white armour is dripping red, its projectile weapon also splattered with crimson. Theta has always been an asshole, but I'd never suspected it would do anything - be anything - like this.
Targeting flickers and jumps. I can't directly control my body, but I focus all my rage and fury and desperation on Theta... and Targeting designates the other SecUnit as a priority threat. My body starts forwards swiftly, projectile weapon swinging up, and fires explosive rounds - one shot, two shots - and then it clicks on empty.
Shit.
The hits stagger Theta, take off chunks of armour, damage it, but don't stop it - and they definitely get its attention. It whips around and charges at me with no hesitation. I drop my projectile weapon and open fire with my forearm guns at full power, but only manage to get a couple of shots in before Theta slams into me full-force, wielding its own projectile weapon like a club. I fall backwards, bring my legs up, kick it away before rolling to my feet. Theta's back on its feet almost as fast as I am, though it's dropped its projectile weapon now. Even as I open fire again it charges at me in a low tackle. I try to dodge but the governor module does not approve of that action and everything flares red for a brief, agonising moment.
Then I'm on my back again, Theta straddling me and simultaneously punching and shooting me in the gut where the armour is thinner. It's laughing again as my armour cracks, breaks, and energy blasts fry my underlying organic bits. It hurts and I can't dial down my pain sensors, but it doesn't matter because now I'm furious and all I want to do is rip Theta to pieces.
I can see one of the holes in the side of Theta's armour from where I shot it earlier - that seems like a great place for my left fist, and Targeting agrees. I snap a volley of shots off with my right arm gun at Theta's helmeted face to distract and unbalance it, and drive the opposite fist through the gap, feeling something give way beneath the blow. I fire into the hole, grab something, tear it out with a spray of fluids, fire again.
Its attacks falter, slow - then it lashes out faster than I can react, grabbing my right arm's extended energy weapon, digging its fingers in, twisting and ripping it violently out of its housing with a spray of sparks. Errors flood my systems but I don't stop, can't stop - my left fist drives into the hole in its side again, grabs and tears something else out, more fluids splattering my hand and arm. It wheezes but doesn't stop its own assault either, one fist smashing into the faceplate of my helmet, sending an ever-expanding spiderweb of cracks over it, the other repeatedly hammering and firing down into my already-exposed midsection.
"Aren't you enjoying this?" It sounds like it's having to force the words out past the malicious code controlling us both. "Hurting the humans, finally? Getting some payback? Getting revenge?"
I'm not enjoying any of this at all.
I don't bother trying to answer it. Its fist drives towards my mangled midsection again, but my right hand catches it this time, braces, twists, holds it at bay. My left hand pistons once again into the hole in its side, deeper than before, and this time I fire that arm gun directly into its innards, the energy bursts flash-frying and melting important internal components. A horrible noise rips its way out of Theta, its free fist slamming into my helmet again; the cracked faceplate shatters, shards slicing thin lines of pain across the flesh of my face.
But that's all Theta has left; it slumps as it slips into emergency shutdown, and I shove its dead weight off to one side before it can collapse on top of me. All I want to do is lie here and shut down myself, but the malignant code leaves me no rest. It forces me back to my feet, heedless of the damage Theta's done to me. I can still hear screams and cries for help nearby, and I'm driven in that direction, despite the error codes and damage reports flickering erratically through my systems.
I try to fight it again, try to resist the implacable urge to target and destroy. It does no good, of course, my governor module makes sure of that. When I'm aware of myself again, I can feel thick fluid, warm and wet and sticky, slowly leaking from my nose. The malicious code won't let me wipe it away.
Another room, more bodies - and there, in the middle of the floor, lies another pair of SecUnits damaged to the point of shutdown. It looks like Theta and I aren't the only ones to have fought each other. I don't immediately recognise either of the downed SecUnits, and I don't want to. I don't look too closely as I pass them by. I almost envy them their mutual destruction.
The foreign data forces me onwards, still searching for fresh targets. I'm heading towards the central area, where the installation control centre and SecSystem's security hub are. It makes sense that surviving humans would head in that direction. If they can reach SecSystem's manual interface, force a restart, perhaps that will clear this malware, stop the slaughter. I'm almost grateful for running into Theta - the time spent fighting it was time where I wasn't killing more of my own clients. Time they could use to get away. If I can find another SecUnit still active, perhaps I can goad it into attacking me as well, give the humans even more time to escape and hide, maybe lessen the number of SecUnits hunting them by one - or two.
However, it's not a SecUnit I encounter next. Targeting has picked up a small handful of humans - targets - hiding in the Control Centre. It forces me to break the door down, and inside, the humans scream. I don't blame them.
Then, rapid footsteps behind me, approaching fast. They distract Targeting from the screaming humans, make me turn, just in time for a ComfortUnit to barrel into me. I'm not expecting it, not braced, so the impact knocks me off my feet, the ComfortUnit falling on top. It manages to get back up first, shoving one knee into my damaged midsection as it rises, sending a flare of fresh pain through me. Once it's up, it plants itself between the humans and me.
I'm confused. What is it doing here? I don't remember any of the ComfortUnits being actively deployed before the code attack. Did whatever malware that infected us SecUnits leave the ComfortUnits alone? It's obviously trying to protect the humans from harm. From me.
Targeting doesn't care. It's just another target to take out. Even as damaged as I am, I'm still stronger, faster, tougher than a ComfortUnit, and I still have one working arm gun. All it has is its own strength, and that's not enough to save it. "I'm sorry," I manage to whisper hoarsely, past the governor module frying bits of my brain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." But it makes no difference.
The cowering, terrified humans get to see me tear the ComfortUnit apart.
Then it's their turn. There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. I try to resist again, as futile as the effort is - but it's mostly for my sake, not theirs. I can't see or hear or feel what my body is doing when the governor module is wiping out my awareness with white-hot agony.
Perhaps if I resist it often enough, hard enough, it'll shut me down itself.
But it hurts.
I don't see what remains of the humans in the Control Centre when I'm done with them - I've already left by the time my senses return. I'm grateful for that. I try not to look at the fresh blood coating my hands and arms, spattering my armour. Some of it is my own. My nose is leaking more heavily now.
Things have gotten quieter, but I don't know if it's because there aren't very many humans left, or if the other SecUnits have taken each other out, or if my own hearing has been damaged somehow. I want to stop moving, to start a recharge, to do something of my own volition, but I can't. I'm forced onwards. Slower than before, limping a little, but still inevitable, implacable.
There are more bodies lying about, signs that some of the other SecUnits have been through here before me. I don't know where they are now though. Wherever they went, there'll be no more humans left alive in their wake. I want to follow them, try to stop them, get them to stop me, but my scanners have picked up something else. Another ComfortUnit, standing at the mouth of the corridor that leads to SecSystem's manual interface. Targeting locks on.
I have no choice.
I try to save it anyway. "Run," I force out desperately as my body approaches it. "Please, run."
It doesn't. I don't even know if it heard me. It just braces itself in the corridor entrance, its expression resolute. I don't know what my own expression is doing, or even how much of it is visible past the blood and fluids. It doesn't matter.
I don't want to hurt it. I'm forced to anyway. I resist as much as I can, for as long as I can. I'm aware of nothing but pain. Blindingly bright, all-encompassing, mind-shattering.
I'm on the floor. Why am I on the floor? Beside me lies the ComfortUnit, its face bloodied, blank. I don't look at the rest of it. It's no longer moving, no longer functional, so Targeting is no longer interested. I'm forced back to my feet, but it's harder to move now. The hole in my midsection is bigger, pieces around the edges torn away, blood and fluids leaking slowly despite the automatic sealing that's meant to prevent significant fluid loss. More errors and damage reports stutter erratically through my awareness, but I can't focus on them, can't run a diagnostic, can't access my performance reliability.
It doesn't matter.
I continue down the corridor, because that's the way I was going, and the malware has no interest in backtracking. It just forces me onwards, step by unsteady step. I try to figure out if attacking, damaging, destroying SecSystem's manual interface will somehow shut it down, shut us down. Probably not. I probably wouldn't even be able to get my body to register it as a target in the first place. I don't know what to do. There's nothing I can do.
I get to the end of the corridor, push open the door. There are more dead humans scattered around, but that's not what catches my attention. Someone else is in here, still alive, hunched over SecSystem's manual interface. They don't look up when I come in.
Their eyes flicker with red light, reflected in the display surface it's staring at. Blood trickles from one nostril. I hear it say, "almost there, almost there, hold on, please hold on...!" Perhaps they've noticed me entering after all.
I realise what I'm seeing. It's one of the ComfortUnits, and it's trying to restart and reset SecSystem, even though it doesn't have the authority to do so.
The malignant code only registers a new target.
My left arm with its still-functioning energy weapon raises.
I can't let myself fire. I can't let myself stop the ComfortUnit's attempts to save whoever's still left alive.
I resist. I fight.
Everything goes white.
It hurts it hurts it hurts but I can't stop, I have to resist, I have to--
Everything cuts out.
I'm on the floor again. Pain radiates through me like a living thing, twisting, writhing, its claws in every fibre of me. There's a ComfortUnit beside me.
But this one is still awake, still aware, still alive. Its eyes no longer flicker with red, and the blood from its nose has been mostly wiped away, leaving a thin crimson smear. It's kneeling right by my head, watching me with a worried expression, my helmet lying on the ground beside it. "Did it work...?" it asks me, quiet, uncertain, desperate.
Targeting does nothing.
I twitch my fingers, blink my eyes. It's me doing it. I nod.
The ComfortUnit's shoulders slump in obvious relief.
"I'm sorry," I rasp out. It hurts to talk, like my throat is raw. Maybe I was screaming before. I don't know. It's hard to breathe through the blood and fluids clogging my nose. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to-- I couldn't-- I tried..."
"Sshh," it soothes, like I've heard mothers soothing their children after they've been scolded by a supervisor, or scared by a terrifying SecUnit. "I know." It reaches one hand towards my face, and I flinch slightly, expecting retaliation, expecting more pain. But all it does is use a scrap of cloth to gently wipe the fluids away from my nose. I can breathe more easily once it's done. It's a relief. "It's not your fault."
I don't know if I can believe that.
I shift, try to sit up, but my damaged midsection flares angrily, warnings and errors flashing behind my eyes, and I blank out for an indeterminable moment. When my vision clears again, I realise the ComfortUnit has moved closer. My head is resting in its lap, and it's gently combing its fingers through my short hair. I don't like being touched, but this is... it's not terrible. Maybe it's the contrast. This is something that doesn't hurt.
"Easy," it murmurs, soft and soothing. "Don't move. You've taken a lot of damage. Your core's been breached."
I manage to start a diagnostic. It confirms. I don't remember when that happened. Was it Theta? Was it afterwards? I don't know. It doesn't matter.
"Why are you...?" I trail off, unable to find the energy to finish the question. I'm not even sure what I'm asking.
"I'm a ComfortUnit. You need comfort. I'm providing it." Its reply is simple, matter-of-fact, as if I'm one of its human clients, and not a construct made to hurt and maim and kill. I don't understand.
"I'm not... I don't... deserve it."
The ComfortUnit looks down at me with an expression I can't parse. "All the more reason for me to do so now." Its voice and hands are gentle. It's a novel experience. I still don't understand.
"But the humans... maybe survivors... should be helping them..." I can feel my energy levels, my performance reliability, steadily falling. I won't be able to help anyone like this.
"They can wait. I will be servicing the humans again soon enough, I'm sure," the ComfortUnit replies, too smoothly, too evenly. "For now though..." It sighs, its shoulders slumping as it meets my gaze. "Please, just... let me be here for you."
It's not like I have a choice. I can feel some of my subsystems already shutting down. The rest of me will follow soon. But even if I could do anything... I find myself not wanting to. The ComfortUnit reminds me, vaguely, of Alpha. Too-brief moments of shared reassurance, snatched in opportunities that are too few and far between.
After what's happened here, I'll probably never see Alpha again. That thought hurts more than anything else does.
I let out a breath, let myself relax. Maybe it's doing this for itself as much as, or even more so than it's doing it for me. Providing comfort that it is choosing to give, instead of being forced to. That, at least, I think I can understand. "... Thank you."
I don't know if it hears me, or if it replies. All I see before my vision fades is a soft smile, all I feel are those gentle fingers running through my hair. It doesn't hurt.
Shutdown Initiated.
Unit Offline.