Stroy for Oct 26

What I do for a living is stealing; honest stealing, but stealing nonetheless. The difference is that what I’m stealing has long been abandoned by some civilization, and I have the local authorities approval to do it. If the residents of these underground ruins came back, they’d call me a thief for stealing their energy cores. Is there any leniency for a mother who steals a loaf of bread for her starving children?
 A static noise came in over my transceiver. “Taliesin, can you still hear me?” it said.
 “Loud and clear, George.”
 “Good. Based on the schematics I received, there should be an elevator down the hall and to the left.”
 I confirmed the coordinate and made my way to the elevator. The lustre of the ruins had largely faded by now, replaced with cobwebs and dull metal that was beginning to rust in places. The elevator hadn’t fared much better, with a layer of dust coating the control panel. A dry air entered my mouth and lungs as I began to interface with the controls. After a moment the elevator arrived and I stepped in. It had the same the smell the whole ruins had: time.
 The floor I descended to did not look radically different from the previous one, only less light. Either the power was going out or the lights had died some time ago. I tried asking my Coordinator if he knew anything but he said it was likely that the circuits in the emitters are worn out by now. I crept through the floor, looking for any energy cores I could find. A small, storage-like room around the corner housed a terminal. I pressed a few buttons but didn’t hear an acknowledging beep back. I knelt down and took out my cutter from one of my back pouches and got to work on the terminal’s protective frame. Divested of the shell, the circuit and attached components lay bare. Broken diodes and capacitors covered the circuit board. I removed it and felt around for an energy core. My fingers stroked something glass-like and with finesse I removed the core. I felt around a bit more and found a second one. Removing it I saw that half of it was covered in an orange stain. I placed both in a hardened container just in case before continuing my hunt.
 The rest of the floor did not reveal any hidden treasures so I took the elevator down further into the depths of the ruins. The static was less pronounced but it still assaulted my ears whenever George called me over the transceiver.
 “Tal, I don’t have much intel on the lower floors, once you get off the elevator can you connect your Reader to any working terminal?”
 “Sure. Is my helmet’s sonar picking up anything, by the way?”
 “Not that… oh, hold on. Yeah, there’s something, but it’s faint. Could be a broken Walker or a grave-omaton,” George said, but the signal came in weakly.
 I checked the charge on my plasma buster. When the elevator door opened I walked into a room bathed in black. My flashlight’s beam was swallowed by the darkness I found myself in. I flicked on my NODs and the abyss turned into a sea of green. The first terminal I found showed no signs of life, exactly like the last one. I bent down to the level of the terminal’s covering, I removed my cutter and held it in my hand, while a soft tapping echoed through the chamber, the source unknown. I’ll save the pillaging for later. I tiptoed in the direction that the tapping was coming from, listening for any change in cadence or direction. I reached the end of a hallway but the door didn’t budge when I tried to open it, like most of the control panels here, it was unresponsive. Yet the tapping came from the other side of the door and I could hear it clearly. I looked up to see a hole of some kind had been carved through the wall. I hoisted myself up and crawled through. If the tapping source wasn’t aware of me before, it was now. I’m not graceful crawling through an ersatz tunnel while loaded with harvester gear.
 “Who’s there!?” came a squeak followed by clamoring and a hissing noise, as if something was tightened and adjusted.
 “I could ask you the same thing,” I said, falling down on the other side. I didn’t have my orientation yet but the voice came from somewhere behind a wall or structure.
 The annular room was centred around a large structure in the middle that went up to the ceiling. Scanning, I noticed a few doors in various states of openness. The tapping had stopped by now. I dashed to some metal crates on my right while I took out my plasma buster.
 “I’m a harvester, with permission from Circuit City to explore ruins LS-3288. There shouldn’t be anyone else in here,” I said with a raised voice. I didn’t hear anything for a minute.
 “Um, I came down from Zanzou City. It seems I got lost and ended up here,” said the voice. It was a bit garbled—filtered through some microphone.
 I holstered my buster and walked out from behind the crate with my hands open. “I’m Taliesin, my buster is powered down.”
 From behind a corner a small frame poked out. I could see the person had some kind of jumbled outfit, adorned with a full-faced protective mask.
 “Where’s your letter of harvest?” I asked.
 “Um, I lost it when I ran into the grave-omaton. It smashed up my helper bot!” said the person, pointing to my side where a helper bot lay broken; flattened.
 “Did you get a good look at the grave-omaton? What class was it?”
 “It was big, that’s all I could remember before I ran in here and hid.”
 I couldn’t judge if the broken helper bot was the stranger’s or if it had been here for a while.
 “Do you know where the grave-omaton went?”
 “Uh, I think it went that way,” the stranger said, pointing somewhere off in the distance. I could see there was a large service door in the distance, so it seemed there was likely some truth to the grave-omaton being large. Probably an omega class one.
 “Have you seen any working terminals in the area? I need to contact my coordinator. Wait, can you contact yours?”
 “No, I lost contact with my brother a while ago. I think it happened when I ran into the grave-omaton. Ah, but in here is a terminal and it works. I’m not that good at working with such old tech so I couldn’t get it to do anything.”
 I walked forward to room the stranger was in, who jumped back a little. Sure enough there was a working terminal in the room. I took out my Reader and adjusted it to the frequency of my transceiver. I found the compatible port on the side and plugged the device in. A moment later I was assaulted by familiar static.
 “Taliesin, that you?” said George.
 “Yeah, it’s me. I’m in some hub area. The signal you picked up earlier was another harvester, but he says he’s from Zanzou city.”
 “She,” corrected the stranger.
 “Sorry, shes’ from Zan– she!?”
 “Taliesin, what’s going on?”
 “Uh, nothing. I’ve got another harvester here and somewhere on a lower floor is a grave-omaton, omega class at least. Can you get me any intel on it?”
 “Let me see what I can do,” George said.
 I muted the transmission end on my transceiver and looked over to the other harvester. Looked at her.
 “So who are you?” I interrogated.
 “I’m Marisa, just your average pira–, plunderer,” she said. The voice was still garbled by the mask’s microphone but up close I could hear the faint female tone.
 “Tal, you still there?”
 I flipped the transmitter back on. “Still here. What do you got for me, George?”
 “Good news and bad news. Good news is you were right about the grave-omaton being an omega class.”
 “And the bad news?”
 “It seems the Reader triggered some kind of intrusion system, so you’ve got about 120 seconds before that bugger’s on you. I’m still getting logs from the terminal so I can see it’s taking a service elevator.”
 I look at Marisa. “Got a weapon?” She shakes her head.
 “George, I’ve only got my plasma buster here. Can you stop the elevator?”
 “Sorry, Tal, I can’t. The terminal’s authorization level is locked and it would take too long to find a hack.”
 Damn.
 “What about an armoury, can you see anything around?”
 “Let’s see… Yeah, there’s one on the end of the main room, opposite from this one. I’ll open the door for you.”
 “Go,” I say to Marisa. She hesitates for half a second but then takes off in a full sprint.
 “George, I’m going to go now but I’ll leave the Reader in the terminal.”
 “Alright, good luck. I’ll try and see if there’s anything else I can do from here.”
 I rush out of the room and look cover facing the elevator. A soft mechanical whirring is heard in the distance as the elevator’s gears work for the first time in a millennia.
 “Marisa, I’ll take point so stay hidden for now. When it’s distracted, try and disable it without damaging the cores.” I called out.
 “Got it,” she called back.
 Sweat accumulated around the grip of my sidearm as I readied it at the elevator.
 The whirring of the elevator’s gears stopped as a tremor rippled through the floor. Then a loud, hollow metal sound echoed through the room as the elevator’s doors open. The grave-omaton rolled out into the room, surveying it with its mono-eye that swiveled about. The NODs made it difficult to see the full detail of the automaton, but there were gaps in its protective armour. The mono-eye shot over, piercing me as my blood turned to ice. The grave-omaton raised an arm and fired a bolt before I could blink. By instinct I duck out of the way, but the plasma bolt’s cindery crater gave off an intense heat. The suspension rattles as the beast’s tracks propell it forward. I slink over to the other side of my cover, taking a quick glance to get oriented. The tracks grind to a halt. I lean out and fire two shots in rapid succession, the brilliant blue energy bolts blinding my night vision for a second.
 I return to cover and bark into my transceiver. “George, I need lights now!”
 I smack the NODs up and move to draw the robot’s attention once more. The room is illuminated causing a momentary visual loss for the mono-eye as it readjusts its lens. I pivot and fire a quick shot, hopping to hit the visual sensor, but my shot goes wide and strikes the wall. It raises its arm to fire another blast to irradiate the intruder; me. I slide behind a metal beam as the shot blows past me, letting off another blast of heat and singing my arm hair in the process. Several successive, concussive shots ring through the chamber as Marisa begins to hit the grave-omaton from the flank. I jump out from my cover and fire a few well aimed shots at the gaps in the machine’s armour. The first shot splashes against the faded, vermilion pauldron, the second hits the joint just below the neck, with the third being eaten by the torso; though, not without leaving a smouldering hole exposing its circuitry beneath.
 It raises its other arm and takes aim where Marisa must be. I yell for her to move, hoping I told her in time. A thunderous beam shoots forth and explodes in the distance. The central structure obscures my vision. I spin back behind cover and swap cartridges for my plasma buster. The grave-omaton is still focused on Marisa. The heat from the previous plasma shot still burns in the wall but I don’t have time to wipe the sweat from my brow. I flick a switch on my buster to up the next shot’s power. I zero in on the exposed wound I left previously and squeeze the trigger. A sharp, red bolt cracks through the room and penetrates the grave-omaton’s chest. It slumps over; dead.
 I heave a deep sigh and power down my buster. I wobble over to the fallen foe and look around for Marisa. Was she hit? I peer around the central structure to look but I don’t see her, only the remnants of the shot the grave-omaton fired earlier. It’s only now that I realize George has been talking to me this entire time.
 “Tal, can you read me? I thought there was something strange about that second harvester you mentioned. I looked through the map provided by the terminal and I can’t see any connection from there to the surface around Zanzou.”
 I strong electric shock runs through my body and I lose control over what remained of my motor functions. From the corner of my eye I see Marisa walk over my body.
 “Thanks for giving me access to the armoury, there were all kinds of useful weapons in there—like this stun gun,” she say, turning to look down at me.
 My mouth is too numb to move. All I can do is watch as Marisa walks up to the destroyed robot and plunder it for its energy cores. She hops back down and leans down next to me, removing her mask for the first time.
 “You’re probably wondering what’s going on. Well, I’m a pirate. Don’t get me wrong, I won’t kill you. I only need these cores so I can take care of my younger brother, and being a pirate is just the easier route,” she says.
 I can’t howl and curse her, my body is dead, refusing to even make so much as a scowl at Marisa. She hesitates for a moment, looking away.
 “...And, uh, thanks for taking care the grave-omaton for me. I was genuinely scared before you showed up.” With that she gives me a peck on the cheek, stands up, and waltzes out.
 Some half-hour later my body regains functionality and I stagger to my feet. Marisa must be long gone by now. I contact George and tell him the situation.
 Trying to make the best of a bad situation, I scrounge up whatever energy cores I can find in the area before heading back up to the surface. I’m sure I’ll run into Marisa sometime in the future, and when that time comes I’ll be ready.