#Feral cat regrets that kibble and needs a little coaxing :')

[coyotescribbles]

Like A House On Fire [Part 5]

Continued on from here.

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You are SUCH an idiot. A stupid, stupid idiot.

Z thumped her head against the bars of the cage. When the bot had called her chatty, that should have been her cue to shut up. Actually, she should have shut up before it had even gotten to that point.

But of course she'd just had to run her mouth.

(Maybe it was the heady euphoria of suddenly being able to say whatever she wanted without fear of reprisal that had gotten to her. Maybe it was the small hungry animal in the depths of her brain hungrily devouring any little crumb of kindness it could find. Either way, it didn't matter.)

Suddenly that ill-gotten Helldiver ration wasn't sitting so comfortably in her stomach.

She tried to wash the taste of chocolate and almonds out of her mouth with another drink of water, but the plastic aftertaste did nothing to cover up her failure.

"Fuck."

Maybe she should have just given in to the temptation to jump into a bug hole on her first deployment, instead of letting stubbornness and spite get the best of her. Instead, she'd knuckled down and powered through and now look at how all of that had ended up.

Z just sighed, doubling over until she'd almost folded herself in half and covering the back of her head with her hands.

Too good at killing bugs to die. Too good at hiding her treasonous resentment to be killed for it. Too good at justifying her own continued existence to herself to just put an end to it and where had it all gotten her?

Here. It had gotten her here.

And while things could certainly be worse - they weren't torturing her, yet - she could think of a thousand ways in which they could be better.

Well, none of THAT is gonna happen now. Except maybe the torture. Probably the torture, honestly.

She didn't know how long she sat like that - long enough for her muscles to start to protest, at least.

Long enough for the Devastator to finish what it had gone off to do and come back, too, if the heavy footsteps she heard outside the doors were any indication. This time, when he entered the workshop, she opted not to acknowledge him at all.

"Angry about something, are you? Or just afraid?" His footsteps stopped nearby, followed by the soft whirr of servo motors - and the distinctive sound of locks unlatching and hinges creaking. "Come on, up."

"…" Z sat up warily and, just as she'd thought, the top of the cage was open.

For a split second, she entertained the idea of bolting, but dismissed the thought almost as soon as it entered her mind. Even if the Devastator didn't manage to grab her, there were almost certainly guards outside in the corridor. And even if there weren't any guards, she had no idea how to get out of this place.

Or what she would do in the extremely unlikely event that she somehow did manage to escape.

"Are your legs not working, little human?"

Now she glared irritably up at the Automaton, as she used the cage frame to lever herself up. "My legs are just fine-"

Heavy digits closed around her upper arm before she could finish speaking, and Z found herself scrambling to hold on to the machine's forearm as she was lifted up out of the cage. A moment later, to her surprise, she was set gently on her feet and released; snatching her arm back, she gave the Devastator a suspicious sideways glare, which only earned her another of those inscrutable looks in return.

And then it stepped away, motioning for her to follow. "This way."

Fear started to coil in her chest; she choked it down, though, and started after the machine. When they passed through the open doors, two Troopers fell in behind them.

Well, even if she'd intended to waste energy trying to escape, she was cut off from that route, now.

Z softly cleared her throat. "Can you at least tell me where we're going?"

Almost immediately, one of the Troopers behind her shoved the barrel of his rifle into her shoulder, making her stumble and spitting something that sounded like a garbled electronic "Sessiz ol insan!"

The Devastator rumbled a "Geri çekil Adze" in response, then, "the Commissar requests your presence."

"Mmh, delightful…"

Chewing her lower lip, Z followed the rest of the way in silence.

Man, I knew this place wasn't fully-manned, but it's so quiet, it's like a ghost town in here…

Soon, they passed through another door, entering what looked like a communications hub, where a handful of Troopers manned comm stations.

It didn't seem like a particularly busy day.

"Komiser, istediğiniz gibi tutukluyu getirdim."

The Devastator stepped aside, and the Troopers nudged her forward as the Commissar turned from the console it stood at, to look her over with what might have been disinterest.

"Hmh. Çok iyi," it rasped, prowling closer and peering down at her with that expressionless face that hid whatever it was thinking.

Z couldn't help feeling like she was being sized up by a large predator.

"…You know, I think I actually felt safer when there was a cage between us…" she mumbled.

"Tch. You should be thanking my friend," it sneered in clipped, distorted English; "If not for Hatchet's persuasion, I would have gladly let one of my Berserkers tear your skull from your still-twitching body."

"Okay, I definitely felt safer with a cage between us."

"Korkutma onu, Giyotin." The Devastator - Hatchet's - fingers curled around her shoulder, and Z froze. The Commissar just let out a stuttering chirr and a metallic chuffing noise that almost sounded like a laugh.

And then it turned its attention back to her.

"You have a choice to make, little human," it continued. "As it is, this unit is being recalled to the front. You may stay here, do as you please, be executed by your people for treason, or…"

Withdrawing something from a holster on its thigh, the Commissar held its hand out to reveal her dearly departed CO's sidearm.

"…You may come, and kill the Helldiver scum with us."

Z felt her mouth and throat go dry, and reflexively wrapped her arms around herself as a chill settled over her. She would have backed away, too, if not for Hatchet's hand holding her in place.

"You mean, for you, right," she replied flatly.

"No. With. As I said, your choice."

"…" For a long moment, she stared at the gun.

Was this what she really wanted? For as much as she hated Super Earth, did she really want to throw her lot in and take up the Automaton standard?

Her hand was shaking when she reached out to take the gun; she inwardly cursed her body for betraying her like that.

"…Let me think about it…" Now her voice was raspy, shaking with an emotion she couldn't quite pin down.

If she hadn't known better, she might have sworn that the Commissar smiled, before turning away again to begin issuing orders.

Then, Z ducked away from Hatchet and slipped past the Troopers.

None tried to stop her.

It should have felt exhilirating, instead, she just felt panicked as she wound her way through empty corridors until she stumbled across…

…The entrance. Standing wide open.

There's no way that's not deliberate.

They can't possibly think I'm that stupid.

…Oh, but it was so tempting. To just let a waiting bot snipe her so she could at least die as slightly less of a traitor…

Instead, she found herself pacing, the bitter cold wind whipping at her hair as she stared out into the foggy afternoon. If she looked hard enough, she fancied that she could see the rocky outcrop where this whole mess had started.

"…Should've just let the CO shoot me," Z muttered, sinking down into a crouch beside the doorframe. The pistol dangled from her fingers, and for a moment, she idly wondered…

Checking its ammunition, Z found two bullets remaining.

She would only need one. Just one to clean up the unmitigated disaster that her life had been, all twenty-eight years of it. The child no one had wanted, the slave no one had cared about, the soldier meant for culling, who had never succumbed. Until now, at least.

"I thought you might have run by now." Heavy footsteps and Hatchet's now-familiar voice shook her out of her mental spiral. She only shrugged one shoulder, neither rising nor looking in his direction.

"Figured it was a trap. Needed to decide how badly I wanted to die."

"No, no trap." He stopped nearby, and she could feel his scrutiny. "…Come, walk with me."

Z sighed softly, rising back to her feet and tucking the pistol into her belt. "Lead the way, big guy."

"Hm." Stepping past her, he made his way out into the fog and frost; she wasn't far behind him, and soon fell into step beside him.

True to his word, no sniper round gored holes in her skull or turned her upper chest into so much chunky red salsa.

"Do you know why we fight Super Earth, little human?"

"Z. It's - people just call me Z."

"Very well, Z. Now, the question."

"I… well, the official line is that you're mindless drones that hate freedom, but we all know that that's bullshit, so… No, not really."

"Do you know of the Cyborgs?"

"Only in passing." Her formal education had stopped at age ten, when she'd been transitioned to "full-time employment" instead; though she'd learned plenty since then, there was still a great deal she knew she'd missed, including whole swaths of history.

"Super Earth holds them in slavery, working them to death in the mines of Cyberstan. We are their children, and we are the instruments of their wrath, until they are freed."

"So what does that have to do with me? I'm just… human."

"Slavery is slavery." His voice was grave. "Your fate would have been the same as that of countless Cyborgs, forgotten in their mines, mourned by none but their kin."

"At least they have kin to mourn them."

Z bit her lower lip hard enough to draw blood and looked away, even as she felt Hatchet's gaze glance over her.

As she lifted her eyes from the gravel, she realized that they were approaching the outcroppings, the black sandstone looming up out of the fog like so many grave markers.

"Z, look at me."

Reluctantly, she did, and those burning red optics pinned her in place just as effectively as any physical force.

"I have observed you, and I have listened to you, and I have determined that the injustices that Super Earth has visited on you are not lesser than those visited on my creators. I am aware that many humans suffer similarly, but I cannot extend my hand to them. I can extend it to you, and offer you not just the chance to be the instrument of your own wrath, but also to gain kin to fight beside you as you carry it out."

He held one hand out to her.

"My last question is: Will you take it."