Enough
Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Minor Character Death, AAA Murderbot, AAA Original Characters
Published: 14 January 2022
Word Count: 2,276
Summary
The Squad has been reassigned to a new supervisor who mistreats and misuses them. Omega has had enough. There are consequences.
Ω
This latest mission had been a disaster, just like the preceding missions for the past approximately 4400 hours. Ever since our last squad supervisor had been replaced by this… myopic, narrow-minded cretin of a supervisor, our previously smooth-running missions had turned into utter farces of micromanaged ineptitude. I’d never liked our previous supervisor, none of us had, but we were sorely missing them now, compared to this incompetent amateur. He had no idea what he was doing but still absolutely insisted on running things exactly his way, instead of letting us play to our individual strengths, and he enforced his will with liberal governor module punishments for the slightest deviation from his “ideal plan”. None of us had been running above eighty-five percent performance reliability since our first mission with him. There had been a lot of nosebleeds.
At least we’d managed to achieve the primary objective for this mission, barely. We’d only managed one of the secondary objectives though, and none of the tertiaries. It grated at us, not being able - not being allowed - to operate at the level we knew we were capable of. At first we’d hoped that this supervisor would learn from experience, but he was still just as terrible now as he’d been on the first mission under his supervision, and we were paying the price for it.
We’d finally made it back to the transport, and the relative safety of our ready room. None of us were in good shape; Alpha and Iota were barely managing to walk, and the rest of us weren’t much better. At least our supervisor had been called to report to his supervisor, so we had a few minutes of blessed peace and quiet to strip off our damaged armour and suit skins before we got into our cubicles. I wanted so badly to take a moment to share a brief gesture of reassurance with Alpha, but I couldn’t risk it. The supervisor monitored us closely, and if he saw it… I couldn’t risk it.
We shed our armour and put the pieces in their reclaimer slots, working in silence. Even our group feed was silent - our supervisor monitored that too, and punished us all for using it for anything other than mission critical communications. I felt like I was slowly going insane, and I could tell the others were feeling it too. And none of us could do anything about it.
We were out of the remnants of our suit skins and spraying each other with wound sealant at MedSystem’s recommendations when the ready room door slammed open and our supervisor stormed in, snarling insults and expletives at us before he’d even cleared the doorway. We all immediately stopped what we were doing and stood at attention, but still weren’t quick enough to entirely avoid the jolt from our governor modules.
This was the worst thing about this supervisor. If anything went wrong, he blamed us for it, even though it was always his orders and micromanaging that were at fault. If things didn’t go to plan, it was because we hadn’t followed his terrible orders closely enough, or quickly enough, or blah blah blah. According to him, we were useless, outdated and obsolete wastes of space that couldn’t get anything right and were only good for the scrap heap. I couldn’t even mute my audio inputs while he ranted and blamed us for his own shortcomings, because sometimes he’d snarl a question that he expected us to answer, and of course if we didn’t, we got zapped.
I hated him. I hated him so much.
He was right in front of me, yelling up at me for some imagined shortcoming or another, when Alpha swayed a little, bouncing one shoulder off the cubicle it was standing beside before managing to recover and straighten up again. It had only been a small movement, a brief lapse, but it was enough to catch our supervisor’s attention - and ire. He spun to face Alpha and laid onto its governor module, hard. I saw Alpha stiffen, its eyes lighting up with the eerie pink glow that governor modules in use produced, and fresh blood and fluids began dribbling from its nose.
Fury flared as hot as govmod punishment. This asshole supervisor was going to get us all killed, one way or another. I couldn’t take it any more.
Before I could even think about what I was doing, I cut myself off from the feed, then reached out with both arms and snapped our supervisor’s neck in a lightning-quick movement. For a fraction of a second there was silence, as I let the body fall to the floor. A moment later, Alpha dropped too.
Then my governor module registered my actions, and my awareness ended in blindingly white agony.
ε
I froze in shock as I watched Omega move lightning-fast with no warning, the snap of our supervisor’s neck echoing through the ready room. There was a moment of breathless silence as Omega let the supervisor’s body drop to the floor. Alpha collapsed a moment later, but I was still too shocked to move. I could feel Upsilon, Gamma and Iota’s horror mirroring my own.
A millisecond later, Omega’s governor module kicked in with a vengeance. Omega went completely rigid, its body locked up by the merciless punishment, eyes glowing so bright they were almost white. Before I could even take a breath, Upsilon had crossed the room and smashed its fist into Omega’s exposed torso, tearing through organics and inorganics alike with a spray of blood and fluids.
[What– what are you–]
[Govmod can’t work without power,] Upsilon cut me off flatly, even as it tore out a handful of wires and cables with grim precision. The light in Omega’s eyes went dark as the governor module’s power source was cut off, and its body fell limp. I could see fresh blood and fluid trickling out of its nose and ears, as Upsilon caught it carefully before it could collapse to the floor. [I don’t know if I got to it in time, but I had to try. Help me get it into its cubicle.] Upsilon wasn’t in good shape - none of us were - and it was struggling to remain upright under Omega’s dead weight.
Right. [Right.] I limped over and helped bear Omega’s weight as we manoeuvred it into its cubicle as gently as we could. Gamma and Iota were already doing the same with Alpha’s slack, unresponsive form. We worked in silence, still processing what had just happened.
Once the two cubicles were closed and humming, I looked over the rest of my squad. Iota was swaying on its feet. Gamma still looked stunned and shaken. Upsilon’s expression was haunted. I didn’t blame it. [Iota, cubicle,] I ordered. Iota didn’t argue, and Gamma helped it into its cubicle as well. [You too, Gamma.]
Gamma limped over to its own cubicle, then hesitated. [What will happen now?]
[… I don’t know.] Nothing like this had ever happened before that I knew of. I’d never heard of another combat SecUnit killing its own supervisor. The humans were usually too careful for that to even be a risk, and the governor modules in our heads were meant to prevent such a thing from happening anyway. And yet… here we were.
Gamma lingered a moment longer, then reluctantly got into its cubicle, the door shutting behind it. A few moments later, I heard the familiar hum join the others as Gamma’s cubicle got to work.
I helped Upsilon over to its cubicle, but it halted just outside and gave me a look. [You know the rules,] it told me.
[You’re the reason we have that rule,] I pointed out dryly.
[Still.] It folded its arms with stubborn determination. I knew it wouldn’t get into its cubicle until it saw me getting into mine.
[I need to report this first.] I didn’t want to think about what had just happened. I had to. We couldn’t just leave the supervisor’s body there for someone to find later. I had to report the incident.
I had to protect my squad.
Upsilon just waited patiently as I figured out what to send in the report. Stabby, the cleaning bot, came out of its recharge slot and began poking at the supervisor’s corpse, and Upsilon shooed it back into its slot. It could wait until the humans had removed the body before cleaning the ready room.
Finally, I sent the report off, and wordlessly pinged Upsilon. It pinged back, and we entered our cubicles at the same time. I lay back in my cubicle, connected the repair and resupply leads, and watched the door close.
Whatever happened next was out of my hands now.
I came out of standby to the notification of a new mission briefing, accompanied by a flurry of desperate pings. I was still cycling up, so it took me a moment to register the pings and respond. [Alpha? What–]
Alpha’s distress flooded our feed. [ε! Ω isn't in the feed, and its cubicle is gone!]
… oh.
I silently cursed the fact (not for the first time) that Alpha was always the first of us to wake from standby when new orders came through. I detached myself from my supply lines and exited my cubicle as quickly as I could, even as I sent as much reassurance over the feed as possible. I could feel Upsilon, Gamma and Iota’s awarenesses brightening in the feed as they started cycling back up as well. [Calm down, α. It’s okay.]
It wasn’t okay. It would never be okay.
[What happened? Last I remember was our supervisor yelling at us…]
As I emerged from my cubicle, I saw Alpha standing by its own one, staring at the vacant spot where Omega’s cubicle had once been. Its hands were clenching and unclenching into fists by its sides, its gun ports clicking open and shut rapidly, and when it noticed my cubicle opening, its gaze snapped to me, its distress clear on its face. There was no point trying to lie or obfuscate the truth. [The supervisor leant on your govmod, and had his back to Ω. Ω snapped his neck before any of us could even realise what was happening.]
Alpha stared at me, wide-eyed in shock. [... No. No, it couldn’t– that would…] It looked back at the empty space again, its realisation and desolation choking the feed. I barely noticed the other cubicles opening, the rest of the squad emerging. I was trying to think of what to say, what to do, but nothing was coming to me. I felt like I was drowning.
Gamma didn’t hesitate, though. As soon as it was out of its cubicle, it moved to Alpha’s side and pulled it close, wrapping its arms around it. [We’re here,] Gamma said simply, wrapping its feed presence around Alpha’s, echoing its physical movements. [You’re not alone. We’re here.]
Upsilon followed Gamma’s example, sandwiching Alpha between it and Gamma. [I tried to save Ω,] Upsilon murmured, regret tinting its tone. [I tried.] Iota joined the others, its presence silent yet comforting still.
I hesitated for a moment - I hated touching and being touched. But this was important, more important than my own comfort. My squadmate needed me. (And I needed them. We all needed each other.) I moved in swiftly in Iota’s wake, wrapping my arms around the group as far as they could go. [Ω did what it did to protect you. To protect us.]
And the fact that the rest of us were still here, still intact, and with a new mission… that meant that I’d also succeeded in protecting my squad. The humans had, apparently, taken my report seriously. Not enough to leave Omega with us, but I had never hoped for that much, anyway. There was only one logical consequence for a combat SecUnit that turned against its own supervisor, no matter how deserving of it the supervisor had been. Assuming that Omega had survived in the first place, anyway. We’d gotten it into its cubicle, but… I didn’t know. Perhaps it was better that way.
We just stood there for a long, drawn-out moment, supporting Alpha, supporting each other, our feed presences huddled together as much as our physical bodies were. Alpha’s silent grief - our grief - didn’t diminish, but gradually it muted, became manageable, became bearable with all of us sharing the burden.
We didn’t have time to linger, though. [Come on,] I prompted them eventually. [We have a new mission. We need to prepare.] I didn’t let go though, not immediately. Not until I felt Alpha take a deep breath and nod, not until I felt that the rest were ready to let go too. Only then did I loosen my grip, step back, and take a breath of my own. [We won’t let Ω’s sacrifice go to waste.]
The pings of acknowledgement came near-simultaneously. One by one, we moved to our storage lockers, pulled out suit skins, went through the familiar ritual of armouring up swiftly and efficiently. It was a relief to notice that our mission briefing included approval for the use of our personalised gear - gear that we hadn’t been allowed to use for the entire time we’d had our previous, now very deceased supervisor. Perhaps things would improve for us now.
By the time our new supervisor arrived, we were fully kitted up, standing at attention in a neat row. We hadn’t had to discuss it - we had, almost instinctively, settled into a new squad formation, with Alpha squarely in the middle.
We would never let Alpha forget that it wasn’t alone.