Emerging from folded space, the hulking warship, The Saratoga, suddenly found itself amidst a fierce battle. For many weeks, the Coral System, one hundred-fifty thousand light-years away from the planet Earth, had been a location of significant interstellar battle. The conflict between colonial forces and the ruling government of the outlying system had come to a critical point, after the failed coup to replace the government had instigated a total war. The space was filled with a cacophony of destruction as the various military space cruisers clashed against each other, their laser blasts and broken hulls drifting through the system as they sought revenge for their fallen comrades.
The area was filled with innumerable explosions, as complete ships were shattered when their engine cores were detonated by missiles that could penetrate them and ignite them from the inside. This was a fierce and full-blown war. Neither side was willing to give up or allow any to escape without reprisal for their comrades demise. More ships unfolded out of space, quickly zooming in to replace the others that were lost. There was no end in sight for this battle, and both sides had to win no matter what, without mercy being shown to any of the fighters.
The Saratoga mustered its way through the melee of crossfire, dodging the smaller fighters as they poured out from the enemy ship’s launch bays. Like a swarm of crazed bees, the fighters took on the intruding vessel from every angle and weapon at their disposal. The Saratoga’s cannons, many and powerful that dotted along its mighty long hull, cleared a path from the oncoming storm and successfully breached the blockade. Other enemy cruisers advanced to stop the massive vessel, as it rushed for the fourth planet in the solar system, but could not get close to it as their previous antagonists were closing in and giving The Saratoga support in its mission.
It was utter chaos amongst the stars and planets in this densely planet populated system. But like a football player charging through, hoping to reach the goal post, the mighty Saratoga stayed focused and reached the fourth world at full power. With From out of its lower section, where a large door unfolded like a gaping maw, a smaller craft exited the behemoth and headed down to the orange-brown atmosphere of the triple ringed world. The Saratoga advanced on soon after, returning to join the battle that took place between the various worlds. It had completed its mission, sending the small craft to the surface, and would have to return at another point and time to retrieve the small shuttlecraft.
* * *
The shuttle trembled as it ventured through the thick, murky atmosphere, heading towards the surface of the fourth planet, only to be met with an onslaught from the planetary defences, as they sought to drive out the small intruder that had intruded on their airspace. With its grey and white coloured hull, emblazoned with a large bold English inscription of the nickname 'The Screaming Banshee', the vessel managed to skillfully navigate through the incoming barrage of gunfire. The banshee's gun turrets at the top and bottom, responded with extreme aggression to any who attempted to bring it down.
The turrets swivelled about wildly, laying down covering fire to quell the opposition’s strife. The thick clouds thinned out as they drew closer towards the surface, exposing The Screaming Banshee as it rolled and weaved, narrowly missing each laser streak of blue and green as the enemy tried to remove them from reaching the ground. The shuttle then launched a group of missiles from its armed dual wing arsenal, which quickly devastated the enemy targets and sent a large cloud of smoke into the stratosphere. The Screaming Banshee made use of this new form of cover, the smoke obscuring their flight path, as they darted about, and proceeded to head to their intended destination.
* * *
Inside this small, yet tough, shuttle craft, were six individuals. All were seated in small built-in sections on either side of the interior. There were eight sections, but only six of them took up the assigned spots, as each one inspected their weapons and checked their armoured suits calmly. They were human males in appearance, but not when it came to their actual features. They were androids. But these were androids of a unique design and purpose. They all wore black combat outfits and armour, some with titanium chest plate covers and others with gadgets built into them.
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Not one of them had a visible face (as such), most bore helmets or mask-like coverings to obscure any sign of human facial mimicry. The helmets and masks weren’t just to cover their missing faces, but an attempt to give each android a type of individuality as their creators saw fit to bestow on them. If the intent was to make them look menacing or strike fear into their enemies, then truly, it was a masterful strategy in that regard. They did indeed look like a group of hardened individuals one would not want to trifle with.
Three of the androids had standard helmets that domed over their heads, with perforated ears coverings and various LED light sensors over the front of faceplate. Each one had a designation printed on their chest plating and were slightly worn out over the years of battle. They were: 3N-215, 6N-117, and GN-990. There was only a minor distinction between each to tell them apart, the scrapes and dents giving them the only form of identity amongst the trio.
On the opposite side were the other three androids, JP-001, TF47 and B97-6. JP-001 looked more mechanical than the others did. His limbs were less defined, they were bulky and robotic-looking. B97-6 had a chrome blue face covering, that was shaped to where a mouth, nose and eyes should have been. It was like all of those human features were wiped off and all that was left was the blank area. TF47, wearing the stripes of higher ranking officer on his shoulder, had a well-polished silver domed face covering. The black hoodie obscured the rest of his head, making his chromed face an ominous attractor to those that dared to look upon him.
TF47 remained poised in his seat and kept his head stationary. The internal digital mission packet-file popped up in his visual, and proceeded to upload the data as it scrolled. The text and graphics were fairly low-res and simplified. Combat android models were made for optimum efficiency, there was no need for such frivolities or gratuitous pictorials. They were made for instant strike force and quick recon, information had to be delivered fast and with minimal complications. Their brains could store gigabytes of data, but there was always the chance it could be compromised with too many unnecessary programs and overload their positronic network.
The information booted up:
Mission status: 0900 hours, 22 minutes, 39 seconds
Operation: Defrag
Summary of aim: Locate and destroy central artificial intelligence coordinating robot troops on surface and command vessels. Identify and retrieve information about covert operative supplying enemy strategic intelligence of military deployment.
TF47 relayed the mission to the others (via Inter-link, a close-net Wi-Fi amongst the androids) and gave them their specific assignments for this mission. Each one froze as they synced and uploaded the data. Milliseconds is all it took for them to properly go over the mission briefing, their super-advanced brains could process it faster than any human mind could. Once it was completed, and they understood their assignment, they acknowledged the team leader with a minor nod.
The only one that didn’t give that sign was B97-6, who simply folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. This was not satisfactory response. That caused TF47 to glance over at him, which caused the others to glance over as well. TF47 sent a ping to him through the Inter-link, and waited for an acknowledgement. The blue-faced android reluctantly conceded, gave a nod, and turned to look away. The others looked confused by his actions. They chose to ignore it and returned to inspecting their gear.
Was this a flaw in B97-6’s algorithm? Or possibly a malfunction in his subroutines? TF47 internally analyzed the possibilities and made a note of this abnormal behaviour in his report. He stored it into his memory bank and returned to his up-right poised position. The others continued to check their gear, recharged their weapon’s power pack supply, and signalled to each other of their readiness. This was a military style that all the android soldiers were trained and programmed in. Human gestures and non-verbal cues were the norm for all these types of android combat models.
TF47 kept tabs on each of them. He could privately link up with their brains, without their knowledge, and keep detailed records of their status, memory logs, and anything else required to keep them functioning for duty. It was required by the military to have the android leaders to have such special access over their own troops. It was a sure-fire way to maintain loyalty and monitor any problem in the units, should anything arise in the mission. Tf47 had no issues with doing any of it. He was a soldier, and this group was his to command.
Not just any variety of sophisticated artificial life form, these were the cream of the crop, the ones assigned to the most crucial assignments. A brigade of fighters and assassins of the stealth variety, sent in to the most difficult of combative environments. When the possibility of human survival is slim and the odds are not in our favor, the military sends forth their only hope–The Android Brigade.