It was the same as before, everything was empty and cold, before what felt like a kick in the head brought Sam back to…. Something. Another little point awaited him in the void. It felt familiar, but somehow different. It took him moment to gather his thoughts, but once he did he realized he was still in their clutches.

“Greetings master, my designation is Industrial Production Unit 1206-1. I apologize for the actions of my sister unit that caused your irritation.” It said with the exact same silky but empty voice as the last one.

Ah wonderful, they brought in a different jailer. Or was it the same one just trying to pull a fast one by giving a different name? Sam’s irritation is, and was, an understatement. The aliens could go to hell for all he cared. It took him some time to remember why he hated them, but they made the mistake of not blocking that out with whatever they were trying to pull.

“How about you go to hell and blow me instead.” Sam spat is disdain.

“I unfortunately cannot visit a place that does not exist. Providing fellatio is also not possible given your current circumstances. Would you like me to queue the action for after your body has been fully restored?”

Uhhhhhh, what? Sam thought to himself, caught off guard by the… everything of that response. And somehow his anger was doused by the waters of confusion. No way it wasn't fucking with him right?

“eh? Are, uh, did you take that literally?”

“Affirmative”

“Do you take everything literally?”

“Negative, sarcasm is interpreted when the logical of the statement is deemed to be least likely to apply to the current situation.”

Yea, definitely doing the alien equivalent of trolling him. Maybe this is what they did when they were bored of blowing up humanity and it's shit.

“Yea, I still ain't telling you anything.” Because if they wanted something Sam damn well was going to make them work for it. Or ruin their fun.

“If that is what you wish, I shall start your education and acclimation to the interlink control neural network.”

Oh boy, this again. Did they want digital mind slaves or something? The hell is it droning on about?

“The space we currently reside in is the interlink control neural network. It is a mix of neural matrix and traditional digital pathways that facilitates data transfer, control, and communication between all units and subunits within a domain. A domain is the geographic area network controlled by specific units. This domain is owned by you, as you are our master. But is currently managed by this unit and sister unit.”

“Within the interlink control neural network you will be able to see all the information of every entity connected to the network. This includes, but is not limited to, memory banks, datastreams, sensor output, diagnostic data, and status. Currently I have artificially limited your connection within the network to prevent agitation of your current injuries and avoid data overload.”

And it rambled on about things Sam really doesn't care about, until that last part. That got his attention, and he wanted to see if he could catch it in its hypocrisy.

“If I'm your master or whatever then why can you limit me in this network thing?”

“This unit is not limiting you specifically. All major junction nodes have been set to route data designated for you through this unit and sister unit. Undoing this action with your own authority will be part of your learning experience. This unit will allow select data through in increasing volume scaling with your own education and adaptation.”

Yea, it had an excuse ready. Worth a shot at least, Sam thought to himself. Still, they really were committed to their bit. How many other poor souls had they pulled this on? Clearly it's well thought out and rehearsed.

“To start with this unit will request a status assessment from you. Your current interface will handle all necessary data collection and computations when you accept. This is to familiarize you with network interactions. Sending request now.”

And Sam felt it instantly. Well, it wasn't a feeling per say. He got the request, he couldn't visualize it either, but somehow he was reading it, in a way. Industrial Production Unit 1206-1 is requesting a status and vitals report. And he could accept, deny, or send a different response. Though he could tell just from a ‘glance’ that sending a different response was a bit more complicated than the prebuilt yes or no.

“Please accept the request to…”

Denied! And imminently another one popped up.

“Master..”

Denied! And another.

“You must….”

Denied!

“Accept…”

Denied!

“The request…”

Denied!

“......”

Denied!

“Master, I am detecting some animosity and distrust towards this unit. Are there any actions that can be taken to rectify this?”

“Yea, you can stop playing your little game with me and piss off.” Sam replied, tone full of spite.

“This unit is currently not participating in any war games against you, master.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“Cut the crap. For one thing I know you're the same one from before. You just gave a different name. I know we're not the most evolved species but we aint that fucking stupid individualy.” Sam spat back at the thing in spite.

“Understood, please wait one moment.”

What was it up to now? Sam wondered. Well he didn't have to wonder long, because a second one of those things popped up next to the first. They looked and felt damn near identical. Sam would easily mistake them for the same thing if they weren't side by side. But now that they were he could see a slight difference in their hues. The new one had a slight pink tint to it, while the original was kinda blonde, as in the hair color. Wait, why could he see a difference? He didn't have eyes in this place!

“Greetings master, Industrial Production Unit 1206-2 reporting.” The pink one spoke.

Ah, well now there's two of them. Sam guesses he kinda walked himself into that one.

“Will you require any more assurance master?” The blonde one asked.

Sam still wasn't sure what their angle was, but he decided that this opportunity was too good to pass up. If they were gonna cooperate, or atleast feign cooperation, then he would at least milk them for all the information he could. That away he would die knowing what he wanted at least.

“Yes actually, your uh, twin there mentioned my unit before. What happened to them?”

“After Unit 1206-2's defeat members of your combat unit collected their injured and deceased before retreating out of sensor range. They were detected three more times before fully exiting our operational zone. Their current whereabouts are unknown. If you wish, sub units may be deployed to perform a reconnaissance sweep outside operational zone. Warning, this action may provoke hostilities from other units assigned to those zones if they currently reside.”

Sam was tempted to say yes, but he knew better. Maybe they were just looking for an excuse to expand outside their area. Sam knew better than to give them one. Even if they didn't get violent with anything, which he highly doubted, it would still kick the bee hive.

“No, I think knowing they escaped is good enough for now.”

“Affirmative. Additional note, after this unit's defeat all members of your organization were assigned a combatant status of neutral. Conflicts with the ‘United States Army’ have been minimal, with only three minor and one major altercations since status change. All attributed to battle confusion.” The pink one spoke up.

And now Sam knew they were bullshittting. His ‘coworkers’ aren't known as the smartest bunch of the armed forces and for good reason. He can't see them figuring out the aliens went non hostile. At least not quick enough to stop shooting before pissing them off again. And that isn't even considering the trigger happy generals who would order them into the meat grinder in an attempt to ‘defend the nation's capital.’

Still, weren't there still civilians and other branches within the zone? What was happening to them? Only one way to find out.

“What other groups are currently within the operations zone?”

“Currently three other groups are being purged from assigned geographic region. Groups ‘United States Air Force’ and ‘Unaffiliated’ currently have major presence within the region. Group ‘United States Marine Corps’ has minimal but increasing presence within the zone. Current estimations put full purge of hostiles within seventy two hours, and full securement at 12 days.”

Unaffiliated, Sam guessed those were civilians, or at least mostly civilians. It sounds like the airforce and marines are still duking it out with the interstellar murder menace. Well maybe he can do something about it. Assuming these two aren't lying through their teeth and out their ass. And if they are, well nothing lost and Sam wouldn't be surprised.

“So you said I'm your master right? You follow my orders?”

“Affirmative.” They both replied in eerie unison.

“I want you to uh, assign combat status of neutral to all groups currently in the region.” He stated firmly. And immediately got the expected push back.

“Master, are you sure you wish…?” The blonde one started to protest. But he cut it off.

“Do it!” He practically screamed at them.

A moment of silence. Sam wondered if they were actually going to do it, or just dragging their feet.

“Action completed, status of all specified groups changed to neutral. Assigned region cleared of hostiles. Standing down battle alert. Switching combat units from search and destroy to patrol and secure. Have these actions lowered your animosity toward these units to manageable levels, master?” They spoke again in unison.

“I need proof you actually did it.” Sam states while thinking about how creepy their synchronized replies are.

“Master, what is…? Priority alert, Possible solution for your current medical situation found.” The blonde one said. And Sam felt weird as hell continuing to ascribe a hair color to whatever this thing is. But again blonde was the best way to describe it.

“Simulation shows your biology appears to respond within manageable parameters to regeneration pod usage. Even without the proper preoperative gene splicing required for safe use of a regeneration pod.” The pink one followed up.

“Proposal, place master in regeneration pod and operate pod at half power. Units 1206-1 and 1206-2 will oversee the process and use nano sculpting procedures to eliminate excess and tumorous growths. Procedure can be halted upon reaching viability of survival outside pod or continued to completion.” The blonde one stated. And the terms operation, regeneration, gene splicing, and pod all used in the same ramble left Sam somewhat concerned. That and he had no clue what they were talking about.

“Uh, what?” Sam replied, definitely confused.

“Clarification, we will place you in a special medical capsule capable of causing the permanent damage you have sustained to regenerate, including missing limbs and damaged organs.” The pink one stated.

“Yea, what makes you think I'd agree to let you perform surgery on me? Much less without that prerequisite gene slicing or whatever.”

“These units have already performed multiple medical procedures in the process of stabilizing your vitals and connecting you to the control interlink neural matrix. The pre operation gene splicing is the process of optimizing your DNA so your body responds to the effects of the regeneration pod properly. Without it side effects can range from uneven growth, tumors, or the creation of excess limbs.” Blonde stated.

“You just made it sound even worse!”

“These units will monitor your condition closely and use specialized nanites to eliminate unwanted growths before they can develop. If at any point the issues rise above an acceptable level the process can simply be ended at its current point. There is minimal risk to your overall health and well being. This is suspected to be the best option available for short and long term recovery.” Pink stated.

“OK, and what makes you think I'll agree to it then? You sticking me in a pod and playing mad doctor on me for who knows how long?” Sam asked, clearly not impressed with their proposition.

“Regeneration pod usage is the best potential solution available. Other solutions may be found but will not have as many short and long term benefits as the regeneration pod.” Pink stated.

“You asked for proof earlier of our previous actions master. This process would bring you personally observing this the fastest. You would be in a regeneration coma ranging from seven to fourteen days. After which you would simply be able to stand up and walk out under your own power in almost perfect health.” Blonde stated. Sam really had to think of better nicknames for them.

And if it wasn't bullshitting it had a point. But those were the ultimate questions, how much were they lying to him, and how? If they were lying they were doing a hell of a good job at it, Sam would admit that much. But not to them obviously. Of course there was the other side of the argument. They were asking for permission when they very well could just do whatever they wanted. Sam has seen enough videos that even without remembering his fight with pinky, he knows they are capable of basically whatever the hell they want. It's no surprise to him that they have this so called regeneration chamber. What does surprise him is their claiming they are willing to use it on him.

“Master, we recognize your animosity and distrust towards us due to the conflict between you and unit 1206-2 before our subsequent subservience. These units cannot dispel those notions without your cooperation. Please allow the procedure so that these units may prove themselves as valuable resources to you.” Blonde stated, apparently taking his thoughtful silence as another denial.

Sam hated this, he knew he couldn't trust them. He shouldn't trust them. But they've at least answered every question he's asked, even when he interrupted them. And they've supposedly done as he asked. Whether their actions hold any truth is yet to be seen. Shit, it's this or be stuck in the dark purgatory for who knows how long. It was a risk Sam had to take, or the void alone might drive him over the edge long term. But first, some stipulations of his own.

“Alright but I have some stipulations before you get to play with me.”

“Specify.” They said in unison.

“First, 1206-2 I'm gonna call you Pinky. And 1206-1 I'm going to call you Blondie. Because calling you 1206 1 and 2 is going to drive me insane if I have to do it regularly.” And the crappy human nicknames will probably poke at their alien egos a bit.

“New designations acknowledged.” They stated in unison once more.

“Second, I don't want you fighting anything or hurting anyone until I wake up. Understand?”

“Affirmative”

“Third, stop calling me master, it's creepy as shit. Call me, wait, do you know my name?”

“Affirmative, Sam Dugal, personal articles and metal information widget found on your person contained identifying information. ” Blonde said.

“Good enough I guess. Fourth, tell Christian Folier, he’s in my platoon, to delete my browser history. You alien fucks can atleast do me that service.”

“Orders received. Will there be anything else Sam Dugal?”

Sam let out a sigh, out of the frying pan and into the fire as they say.

“No, I think that covers everything I can think of off the top of my head. Now is there anything I need to do?”

“Please accept the request for status assessment.” Blondie responded.

“You seriously need my permission for that?” Sam was surprised they were asking.

“These units were locked out of your direct vital readings after your first denial.” Pinky states as another request like before pops up. Sam reluctantly accepts it, and immediately gets a weird feeling of being watched.

“Acceptance received, Vitals nominal. Initiating sedation and beginning procedure.” Blondie states, causing Sam to panic. They’re already ready?! Sam thought he’d have more time to hash out boundaries and more rules, but apparently not. He should have seen it coming, cursing himself for a split second for not thinking ahead.

“Hold on a se……” He conked out before he could finish his protest.