“Sir, orders from the president just came in, referencing the current situation. Full diagnostic on all military personnel, along with all air and naval assets that are accounted for to be scrambled and moved into defensive positions. As for the DFC, we have been ordered to account for ALL drone fleets under our command. Also, we were just moved to DEFCON 2.” Drone Fleet Admiral Coden turned towards his out-of-breath lieutenant, who was the one who had just spoken.
“Brilliant. Thanks, unnamed lackey. Also, you forgot to call me ‘sir’.” Coden stepped towards his command console that plugged into the intercom of the entire building, shoulder-checking the lieutenant on the way.
Drone Fleet Command, also known as DFC in the US Military, was a sub branch of the air force dedicated to manage the many AIs managing their drones for them. In total, there were 20 drone fleets under their command, with 50 drones in each. Now, that was just the drones that belonged to the air force, but the good folks at the Air Force DFC didn’t like to talk about the other DFCs.
Coden shivered. He hated the other DFCs.
When he reached the console, he pressed the loudspeaker button.
“Attention all DFC personnel! There have been troubling developments, which are currently classified as of right now, except that we have gone to DEFCON 2. However, we have orders! Yes, I know you all love work!” Coden thought he heard a collective groan from the offices below. “Also, groaning is now a punishable offense.” The groaning suddenly cut off.
“The orders are to find each and every one of the drone fleets we have control over, and make sure they’re in tip top shape! In other words, go find our drones! Now!”
Coden cut the loudspeaker and sent out a notice to all computers restating their new objectives. It also included a pay docking for whoever didn’t look like they were working hard enough in the next 20 minutes.
. . .
Coden yawned as he drank his fifth coffee of the day. He hated this job. Just like he hated being an intelligence officer, he supposed. And just like he hated being a drone squadron commander. And just like he hated his current job. Wait, he already said that.
An aide walked into his office. It wasn’t his lieutenant.
“WHERE’S THE LIEUTENANT!?” Coden roared. The aide flinched in fear.
“Un-... unconscious… sir.”
“What? How?”
“He was knocked out, sir.”
“MY lieutenant? Someone smacked up MY lieutenant? Who was it!?”
“You, sir.”
“...oh yeah. Lazy bum. Tell him to wake up and get me another coffee. Actually, don’t. Tell me what you needed to first.” Coden sat back and paid attention, for once.
The aide shuffled. “Well, the good news, sir, is that we found most of the drone fleets.”
“Wait. Tell me the good news first.
“... I just did… sir.”
“Oh sorry. Carry on.”
“... right. Anyway, we have established sure contact with 18 drone fleets. One is headed back from an airbase up in Canada, or what was Canada. However, the other two…” The aide turned on the wall display, which conveniently switched to a map of the world, which was probably outdated by now, due to recent events.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“As you can see, there’s 17 drone fleets currently stationed inside of the US, with one on their way back from up north. However, the remaining two-”
“What about the other two? I don’t see 'em anywhere here! Tell me KNOW!”
“... I am. Sir.” The aide sighed. “One of the unaccounted for dots is a drone fleet that was commissioned for a secret project. Something about a new aircraft carrier design. They didn’t tell us much about it.”
“Why didn’t I hear about this?”
“You did, sir. You just forgot. Anyway, the other drone fleet is currently over what used to be Europe, but our new satellites show different land shapes, obviously. The drones are working, but they are behaving… strangely.” The aide swiped up an image of a communication log between a tech and the drone AIs collective.
:begin log:
Protocol 111, denial measure 15 is a protocol that is activated only when the following conditions are met: In the case of a nuclear attack, and a lack of orders from the controlling DFC, and the drone fleet attempts to return to base, only to find it in control of an unknown force. The drone fleet’s new objective from then on is to expend their entire ordinance package, which usually consists of XI-80 ‘Fire Arrows’ and a smaller ammunition package of 22 millimeter rounds fired from a machine gun mounted on the front. After this, the drone fleet is to attempt to return to base.
:end log:
The two sat in silence for a moment.
“...”
“...”
“... don’t tell the president.”