Hunted: Chapter 7

Shogun vs. Ixion

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'Who made you?' Raun barked at Ixion the Third.

The chromium plated droid considered the question, 'I am the third embodiment of Ixion, a combat droid first initialised fifty-four years, and change, ago on a deep space manufacturing station. Location and name have been deleted from my memory cores.'

'I asked, who made you?'

'Specifically, I have no idea. Generally, I have no idea. I presume some droid manufacturer. Given the rarity of humanoid combat droids a quick search in the appropriate archive will answer your question.'

'How did you end up under VPICs command?' Raun peered down the sight of his lasrifle, his finger itching closer to the trigger.

'Ixion the Second was acquired by [CLASSIFIED],' Ixion the Third paused. 'Huh, there are errors in my memory core, data I cannot access. Shoot me if you must but I cannot answer that which I cannot access.'

'What happened to the Second? Is that it?' Raun nodded at Shogun.

Ixion the Third laughed, 'Not a chance. He is ancient. I'd upgrade if I were you and strip that rust bucket for spare parts, not that they'd be of much use. Donate him to a museum if you're sentimental.'

'Does the name Kamakura mean anything to you, to any of you?' Padoan interjected. The mission was paramount but he needed Raun to have his head in the game rather than focussing on their metallic soldier. If this line of questioning convinced Raun, it was worth it.

'No,' Ixion the Third said.

'Any data at all? How about on this logo?' Padoan pointed to the flower crest printed on the side of Shogun's replacement chest plate.

'No.'

The three men shook their heads as well.

'Like I said, imitator,' Shogun snarled. 'Allow me to terminate this doppelganger who sullies my reputation as the finest combat droid in all the galaxy.'

Ixion the Third laughed, a rotten electronic warble, 'Your rusted joints wouldn't be able to pull the trigger quick enough. There'd be two holes in you before your worn-out photoreceptors noticed I'd moved.'

'Not to tell you how to do your job, Captain, but this is a waste of our time,' Shogun lamented. 'Give the order and the imitator is scrap,' he pressed his lasrifle up against Ixion's chest.

'I'm inclined to agree,' Trent said, exasperated. 'If the control room is in this base we need to move fast,' he whispered.

'Control room?' Ixion cocked his head towards Trent. 'Control for what?'

'Make him Ixion the Fourth,' Padoan growled.

Shogun pulled the trigger. A blinding red laser exploded against Ixion the Third's chestplate, ricocheting off and shattering outward. The imitator tumbled backwards and reached out towards his pistol, several metres away, the weapon shook and flew across the room into his hand. 'Nice try,' Ixion the Third fired three compact rounds into Shogun, ripping through his corroded chest plate.

The three tongueless men reached under the card table and emerged with lasrifles. They fired indiscriminately. Trent dove out the door to find cover in the jungle. Raun fell to the floor, firing wild and forcing Bearded and Smoker to overturn the table for cover. He scampered to an alcove and pressed himself into the corner, cursing all the while.

Padoan managed one good shot at Earless, burning a half-moon into his neck. The man collapsed to the floor in a heap. A searing pain burned Padoan's shoulder, his hand spasmed dropping his lasrifle. Padoan fell to the ground, the smell of burning flesh assaulting his nostrils in wafts. He bit his tongue to suppress a scream and began crawling for the doorway. Trent was just outside providing covering fire. Padoan glanced over his shoulder, Bearded and Smoker hid behind their card table while Raun sheltered in an alcove as concrete exploded around him from Ixion's wild firing.

Shogun lay on the floor, arms spread wide, photoreceptors dim but not extinguished, his torso punctured with three smoking holes. 'Just a moment, re-routing Core servo functions,' Shogun's tone was warm, jolly in fact.

'Trent, aim for Ixion's legs. Knock him down!' Padoan growled through gritted teeth. Pain pulsated from his shoulder down his arm, into his chest, and up his neck. His jacket was a mess of blackened leather and tears, his flak vest hung limp around his waist, the shoulder melted steaming crisp.

Trent nodded, aimed low, and fired a burst at the silver droid's legs. The laser bolts rebounded, splintering into a shining star that pervaded the room. 'No good.'

'We need something with force.'

'Grenade?'

'Too risky with Raun and Shogun there,' Padoan dragged himself over the threshold. Bearded and Smoker peered round their card table and began firing at the doorway. Fortunately Ixion was in their firing line and the shots went wide of Padoan and Trent. Raun, however, cowered with his rifle firing blind under his arm, the alcove barely wide enough for him to crouch against.

Ixion ceased firing, 'See how I am your superior in every way. Flesh nor steel can stop me now, no laser or explosive can penetrate my casing. I. Am. Invincible.' Ixion the Third sauntered over to Shogun and stood astride the elder droid's smoking chest. 'Time for your decommissioning,' Ixion lowered his pistol to Shogun's forehead, his finger squeezing the trigger.

'Servo function restored,' Shogun triumphantly announced. He spun, tackling Ixion to the floor, and bashed the pistol out of the imitator's hand, shattering it. 'You are a mere shadow of me, a pale excuse for a combat droid,' Shogun slammed both fists into Ixion's chest, cratering the reflective metal.

Bearded and Smoker rose to assist their metallic comrade and fired a quick burst in Shogun's direction. The rusted droid lifted the silver one up to block the shots, sending a kaleidoscope of colour back towards the tongueless mercenaries. 'A little cover fire if you wouldn't mind,' Shogun said. He threw Ixion into the south wall. Plaster and concrete exploded outward, steel rods shunted out of the wall.

Ixion sank to the floor with whirring sigh, his silver exterior dented and scratched. 'Shadow? You resort to such barbaric methods and still fail to injure me in any meaningful way,' he rose to his hands and knees. 'We shall see who is imitating who!'

Shogun dashed for the imitator and punted him across the face with a swift foot. 'Let's see what you have in that chrome dome,' he found purchase along the centre join of Ixion the Third's head and began to pull.

'You might strain something,' Ixion snarled, pounding Shogun in the side and hip joints, until he reached inside one of the steaming holes. 'Ahh, here we go,' Ixion grasped at whatever he could just as his faceplate was torn free with a surge of sparks and snapping screws. A photoreceptor casing split and Ixion's left eye hung loose across his cheek of wires. 'You brute!' He twisted his grip.

Shogun stumbled backwards and fell on his left side, dragging Ixion with him, 'That's important!' he grabbed Ixion's loose photoreceptor and pulled, the cables snapping as easy as a young vines. He planted a fist into Ixion's chest again, and again, until the metal cracked. Worming his finger in he gained a hold and ripped a section of the torso away, exposing a memory core and something well heat shielded. 'Is that your Core? What's it doing on display? We certainly do not share a creator,' Shogun reached for Ixion the Third's Core.

'How are you still operational?' Ixion howled. He pummelled Shogun across the face and chest but his fists lacked the impact to do damage. Instead he fumbled for another smoking hole, hoping to find something to tear.

'I've had quite enough of you,' Shogun clamped Ixion's Core and squoze. The heat shielding crumpled like old tin and the central processor cracked soon after. Ixion fell limp against Shogun. 'Pale imitation,' Shogun shunted the silver droid off him, he lay on the floor while his restorative processors reconnected his left leg.

Raun and Trent maintained a relentless barrage of lasfire on the two tongueless guns-for-hire. 'Overheating, switch!' Trent yelled. Padoan appeared in the doorway, right arm limp at his side, the other shooting wide. The card table was more holes than surface and the two hunched figures behind it were unmoving. 'Think they're dead,' Padoan yelled, his latest shot going three foot wide of the table. 'I can't shoot with my left. Raun, are they dead?'

Raun peered from his alcove and waited five seconds without firing. There was no sound and no laser bolts hurtled in his direction. 'Think so.'

Shogun rose and gave Ixion a swift kick before hobbling to collect his lasrifle. 'I bear no desire to continue our mission in our current state.'

'No one has come up from the base, door's right there, I say we get in, do what we need to do to get paid, and get out,' Trent gestured to a door at the back of the weapon's cage.

Padoan tried to roll his neck but the burnt flesh and muscle refused his ask. 'Alright, but you two will have to do the shooting. Shogun and I will take the rear.'

'Speak for yourself, Captain. I may look a state but my processors and processes are as keen as ever,' Shogun cocked his lasrifle. He glanced down at Ixion the Third's final version, 'In fact...' Shogun began dismantling the pale imitation, removing the casing and a few choice components from the head and torso. He handed the cores and oddities to Padoan and tied the silver plating to his frame with strips of wiring best he could. 'An ugly solution to be sure but good for what potentially awaits.' The back of his head was half silver while the front of his chest was covered with the rear plate of Ixion's torso. Two half sheets hung over the hip joints too.

'I guess that settles the debate over whether droids are cannibals,' Trent stepped by and scanned the card on the weapon's cage.

'Oh please, you strip the corpses of your enemies for weapons and ammo, this is no different.'

'I don't take their lungs and skin.'

'Maybe you should, be useful if you had spares.'

'Let's carry on,' the conversation was beyond the pale for Padoan. He stashed the droid components in the back pockets of his flak vest. The door at the back of the weapon's cage led to a short well lit stairwell. Below was a room, the same footprint as the one above. Inoperable terminals lined the walls with more buttons and switches than the Firethorn's cockpit. Another door awaited them. 'Well this is more promising.'

'It looks it but it isn't. These are security consoles,' Trent pressed a small red button beneath the monitor of the nearest computer. A rusted pale green thing with scratches across the glass. Nothing happened. 'No power... We need to go deeper,' he scanned the security card on the next door. It slid open to reveal another staircase heading down to a closed door. Trent hurried down, Shogun close behind, and scanned the card. The scanner emitted an error beep. He paused as Padoan and Raun joined them.

'What's the hold up?' Padoan asked.

'Card didn't work,' Trent whispered back.

A low rumble of words echoed beyond the door, 'Shh,' Padoan gestured and pressed ahead and setting his ear against the door.

'The nuisance is still at large and now they're interfering in our endeavours on Duln. Commander Grayson, I need you to terminate the crew of the Firethorn, I don't care how you do it. Assassins have failed. Combat droids have failed. Bounty hunters have failed. You must succeed. You have clearance to use any weapons at Varis Peak Interstellar Consortium's disposable. Any weapons.'

'I understand, General Vaughn, I'll see that they are no longer capable of interfering,' Commander Grayson replied.

'And Commander, my team has finished the preliminary work on the ion cannons. Your team can prime the weapons at any time, await the signal from the surface.'

'Yes, General. Grayson, out.'

Trent scanned the card again, this time it was successful. The door slid open and a tall, thin man stood with his back to them. 'You better have good news for me, Ixion,' Commander Grayson said.

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