Part 1 
The Robot wars: A Project Entropia FF. 

Bronson crouched behind the rock, panting. Beads of sweat ran down his head, and what made it worse was he couldn’t wipe them away. His helmet was latched on, and he took the risk of getting shot in the head if he took it off. Mechanical footsteps could be heard closing in. Bronson opened his comms. “Take the left flank. I’m pinned down.” As soon as Bronson said this, a shower of laser fire erupted from the side of him. Two of his friends were there. Red energy slashed at the bots. Two troopers and a drone. “Take out that drone; we don’t need the flak from that damn drone!” Lasers reached out and etched lines in the bot. Two shots pummeled the chest, ripping it open. The next shot went into the core of the bot. It erupted with an explosion, as the parts went flying everywhere. Shrapnel hit Bronson’s hiding place, but didn’t touch him. The two troopers stood back to back, seeing him clearly with their heat sensors. Bronson reached into his pocket and dropped a flare. He ran straight out. Lasers pummeled the area where the flare was. One trooper noticed him. Bronson ran, panting, as fast as he could to the next rock to hide behind. A laser shot nailed the ground in front of him. Dirt flew up and stuck to his visor. Another shot seared his back. The vigilante armor could only take so many hits. The back cracked open from the powerful shot, and knocked Bronson down face first. He lifted his head and turned. The Trooper’s weapons were reloading. He rolled behind the big stone, and took cover. “That’s it.” He said to himself. “No more running away.” Bronson stuck the muzzle of his A-3 Justifier Mk.II out the side of the rock. The amplifier pulsed on top of the gun. A-105 was emblazoned on the side of it. The Abrer laser sight painted a dot on the trooper’s neck actuator. Bronson looked through the scope. Perfect shot. The gun kicked violently, and the shot flew true. It blew out the neck actuator on the trooper, and the head stopped turning. That would give him more time to maneuver. Bronson waited. The trooper came up right behind the rock. Bronson Scuttled out the side as the trooper fired the shot. The rock exploded to reveal nothing behind it. Bronson popped up behind it, at close range. He took out his Combat Enblade. Bronson leaped up into the air, and stuck the enblade into the back of the trooper. It roared as two major fuel lines were cut. This was the trooper’s weakness though, It couldn’t hit it’s own back. The second trooper took notice. It beaded Bronson. “Oh no you don’t.” Bronson said, letting go of the enblade. He fell lightly to the ground, and rolled away from the thrashing trooper. The second trooper let loose it’s salvo. The enormous ruby beam pummeled into the back of the other trooper, blowing a hole right through it. It also however, destroyed his enblade. A laser shot from another rock, this time from one of Bronson’s friends. “YOU SON OF A…” The laser smashed into the troopers head, catching it off-guard. Bronson looked over. Something smelled terrible. He ran and rolled behind his friend’s hiding spot. The carcass of his second friend lay there also. It was smoking, and the chest was completely blown out. The rascal armor had been breached by the shot, and it had burned out his entire chest cavity. Bronson picked up piece of the armor. A glove. He chucked it at the trooper’s head. It hit with a loud clang, and the eyes scanned for Bronson. Bronson ran out from behind his rock and fired wildly at the trooper, hitting it in the same place every time. A shot hit him in the arm, but he kept running. The shots continued to come from his Mk.II. Every time beaning the same place. A small dent formed, then a big one, then a hole. Bronson continued to fire into the hole. He had plenty of cell packs on him. Laser shots ripped into the insides of the Trooper. It lurched forward, then stopped. A laser fired into the air, another at the ground. He had hit something important. Bronson’s friend peered out, and shot a round off from his backup weapon. The BLP rounds bounced around inside the trooper, shutting it down. Bronson’s hest heaved as he tried to recover from the run. He fell to the floor. “You were supposed to watch her Mike.” 
“I know, but she though she could take it.” 
“Why didn’t you STOP HER!” Bronson screamed. Tears were streaming down his face as he saw the crimson rivulets run down his dead friend’s armor. 
“I tried, I really tried…” he said, and also began to weep. 
“That’s it. This war is going to end… no more useless casualties, we need to even the score…. There’s a whole trooper over here, half of one over there, and the head of a drone. That’ll fetch some nice loot. Strip her armor off. I’ll carry her home, you get the loot truck. Bronson sat next to his dead friend, and pried the weapon from her hands. “It shouldn’t have ended like this.” He took her face-mask off. Golden hair flowed down and hit the cold hard ground. Above him, a tree that resembled a palm, only with yellow leaves rustled. He kissed her cheek. “Rest in Peace Lauren. You deserved better.” Bronson took his armored glove, and put his hand on her face. Another tear rolled down his cheek. He looked towards the sky. One of those stars was her soul, floating away into the great unknown.

Chapter Two. 

Bronson entered the marketplace at Hadeshiem without his armor on. It was in his backpack, neatly put away, along with his weapons and a few cell packs. People crowded the streets selling everything from sets of Nemesis armor to dung. A few people in Orange jumpsuits stood in the corner, holding Jester D-1s and Mann Mphs. Fang looked over to a shady figure by a small shop. Bronson walked over to him. “Hey! Wakeup hank.” The man snapped awake. 
“Ah, Bronson, I got your call. You can’t actually have what you say you have. A near whole trooper?” 
“Oh yeah, and you better offer a pretty P.E.C for it.” 
“I’ll call right now.” Hank picked up the phone next to him, and dialed the main office. “Hello, Mr. Davidson? Yes… My friend here brought back a whole trooper body…that’s right…it’s whole… only a few holes in it…give him HOW much?” Hank hung the phone up. “Well, Mr. Davidson wants you two to have this.” Hank took their cards and slid them through a scanner. “That’s 2,000 P.E.D. each.” 
“Sweet.” Bronson’s friend said. 
“The price was too high though. We lost one of our own.” 
Hank got up and put a hand on Bronson’s back. “All the more reason to end this war kid. Consider me in.” Hank reached behind the counter and pulled out the most amazing setup Bronson had ever seen. Full Shadow armor, And a Ravenger Minisweeper V2. Bronson’s jaw dropped. “They’re the companies’.” Hank said. 
As the three members conversed, small explosions began ensuing outside. “What the hell?” Bronson said. He picked up his Mk.II. “It can’t be ANOTHER robot attack.” One person in an orange jumpsuit ran through the center and hit into Bronson. His arm was covered in blood. He dropped to his knees, and died on the spot. Bronson picked up his gun, and aimed it down the alley. Smoke filled the entryway. A drone walked in. Bronson shot it’s head clean off. He peeked his head out of the small alleyway. A warrior, two drones and a trooper. This was going to be tough. 
Hank was out there chugging away with his minisweeper, but his armor would decay fast if he didn’t help. Bronson ran out and aimed his weapon. Another armed colonist behind him also aimed. They began blasting the warrior in the back. It fell in a smoking heap on the ground, then exploded. The shrapnel nailed the other bots, getting their attention. Bronson dove out of the way as a laser shot ripped the colonist behind him in half. He had only been wearing Pixie armor. 
Two people ran in and dragged the piece of the colonist off to the side. Both were wearing Nemesis sets, and firing BLP rifles into the Troopers races. Bronson took up the sights on his Mk.II. He looked through the scope, and put a line of laser through a drone’s neck. It collapsed in on itself. A girl stood next to him, out in the open, no armor, just a coat on. She aimed her pistol at the nearest Trooper. It took notice and blasted right at her. Bronson lunged out and tackled the girl into safety. “I’m so sorry.” He said. 
“It’s ok, I was frozen stiff.” She got up, and took the backpack off her back, she began to put her armor on. It was vigilante, like his. She took out a Starkhov BLP rifle. “Come on, we have to get the hell out of here. There are robots ALL around Hadeshiem.” 
“Wait! I have to rescue my two friends!” 
“Where are they?” 
“They’re both trapped in the auction room.” Bronson dashed off, with the girl close behind them. A trooper saw them running. It blasted right at them. Bronson, at the last second, leapt over the shot, which exploded somewhere far behind him. He slid around the corner. The girl was still back there. She looked up and shot at the trooper. It shot back, but the enormous metal block was too good of cover. It was Bronson’s turn. He opened his comms. “Let’s play some ping-pong.” 
“You got it!” she said. Bronson popped up from behind the rock and nailed the bot in the back. It began to come towards him. The shot kind of bounced off, doing minor damage. 
“It’s a generation 02!” 
“Damnit.” She popped up and shot the trooper in the back again. It turned to face her. Bronson popped up again, and fired, hitting the same spot. A small crack appeared in its back. “That one hit home!” The Trooper locked onto his voice. The shot came with no warning. A large ruby beam pummeled the side of his head, sending him flying into a wall. He was knocked out instantly. The last thing he heard was the sound of a minisweeper.

Chapter 3 

Bronson awoke in an alley. The damp floor was red. Blood was running through the streets. Random gunshots were heard outside the alley, along with the carcasses of dead bots, and humans too. He could hear drops of water falling from the rooftops. It was raining. He felt the water on his face. Bronson thought it weird, being that he had a helmet on. When his eyes finally adjusted to his surroundings, he sat up. Bronson noticed the shrapnel hanging from his head. He was wearing half a helmet. Hank walked over to him. “Lay down kid.” 
“No way, we have to keep fighting!” 
“No. Listen kid. Hadeshiem is long gone, there are dropships piling into the streets. Bots are unloading like no tomorrow. We need to evacuate now.” Hank had a look of fear on his face. Bronson dropped his gaze to the chestplate of his black armor. The shadow harness was damaged badly. There were small holes in it, and parts of the internal structure were showing. Twisted metal was showing, indicating many continuous shots. The armor couldn’t take much more. “We had a truck of supplies taken off the dead in the streets moved to Atlas Island, we’ll have to evac to there. It’s the closest place out of their landing zones.” 
Bronson got up. His gun was absent. He took a look at himself. His armor was burnt in three places, enormous black splotches. Half the helmet was gone, there was only one arm piece on him, and his thigh and leg armor were practically dead weight. His jacket could be seen under the armor. “How do you suppose we get out of here?” 
“Well, there’s about thirty of us here, the rest are already out.” Stated the woman from before. She reached back and unclipped her helmet, which fared no better than Bronson’s. She went behind him, and Cut off the molten metal that had been welded to his harness. Bronson unclipped the helmet, and chucked the trashed armor on the floor. “Thanks.” He said. 
“Thanks for saving me.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, and walked over to where Hank was. She looked back at him. “We have several vehicles waiting to go, but we’ll have to fight to get there.” She said. Bronson looked at her closely. She was beautiful, blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect face. She extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Sue.” Bronson took her hand lightly and shook it back. “Bronson.” He said, never taking his eyes off her. Hank walked up to them. 
“If we’re going to run for it, now is our chance.” Hank and a friend led the charge out of the alleyway. The colonists ran right into a barrage of light gunfire from drones. Bronson looked down on the floor. A dead colonist. Bronson pried the handgun from his cold fingers. “Oh come on, I don’t know how to use one of these!” 
Someone running next to him yelled “Point and pull!” Bronson looked at the outfit he was wearing, in the top-right corner, the nametag said Woody. 
“Oh really!?” Bronson yelled sarcastically. He pointed it at the nearest drone, and fired. The shot melted some armor, but not much damage. He leapt up and punched the drone right in the face. He pulled his hand away, knuckles sore. The faceplate cracked, and the robot fell over. He continued running. Down two alleyways, completely filled with gunfire, he skidded to a halt in front of a row of vehicles. “Let’s go!” he yelled, pushing the stragglers ahead of him. Warrior Generation 01’s poured from the street he had just been in. “We need to get OUT OF HERE!” 
Back in the alleyway, Bronson spotted a struggling body. It was Sue. “NO!” he yelled, and ran the other way. The colonist named woody picked up his weapon, and poured gunfire into the nearest Warrior. Bronson picked her up in an awkward fireman’s carry, and put her in the back seat of the car. He jumped in the front and slammed on the gas, as woody had already started the engine. In the back passenger seat, another colonist held up Sue, and applied medical attention. The engine roared as the car flew away from the burning wreckage of Hadeshiem. “Who’s this?” Bronson asked, still flooring it. 
“Just call me zHA. Long story, I’ll tell ya later.”

Chapter 4 
The car bumped and skidded through the rough terrain. Several times along the way they had to stop to refuel. Three cars had to be left behind, and now Bronson’s car had another passenger. He didn’t bother to ask the name of his new companion. Sue was awake again, zHA was sitting cross-armed in the back seat, the new guy was tinkering with his rifle, which had no ammo linked into it so no mistakes could occur, and Woody was looking out the front window. A radio buzzed in the front of the car. “Any surviving colonists meet at Atlas Island ASAP.” 
“Are we almost at the Hadeshiem East teleporter?” 
“Yeah, contacts say it’s the only one that hasn’t been destroyed, we’ll be there in about an hour.” Bronson still had the pedal to the metal. He was in the middle of the pack. The more lightweight vehicles sped ahead of him, while the more heavily armored ones crawled behind. Traveling at 213 mph constant was dangerous, but at any time a dropship could loom over their position, and Bronson didn’t want to find out if they had guns on them. Dirt flew up over the tires of the car. Bronson simply ran over bushes and foliage, but the trees and creatures he dodged. He was lucky there were no big Atrox around, they could catch them. 
Bronson turned a corner around large hill later on, and the Hadeshiem teleporter came into view. A rotating symbol topped four curved support columns. Lights were everywhere, and power cables escaped from the bottom and disappeared into the ground. In the center, a bright shining light pulsated. The entire thing consisted of shades of blue, grey, and white. The five of them stepped into the light, and selected Atlas Island as their next destination. Bright light surrounded them and the world faded from view. 
Bronson opened his eyes. He was in Atlas Island. Colonists were rushing into the central building, and his four companions appeared behind him. Bronson sprinted into he building and blended in with the crowd, with Woody, zHA, and Sue standing behind him. Hank was on top of the stage, talking to them. “We cannot allow this to occur any longer. With Hadeshiem gone, our economy is crippled. All the auction items are stuck in there, along with a few more colonists, people afraid to leave their homes. During these hard times, please do not think of money. Do not think of gaining profit. If you can craft armor, clothes, weapons, make ammo, than do it. We need every helping had we can get. Our stockpiles are low. If you have a working set of armor, and a working gun, please leave this room now. We will repair all equipment later.” 
With this, less then one third of the colonists left the room. A hoard of Orange clothed people stood in the front. There were hundreds of them. Bronson silently counted the people left who had armor and supplies. About 200. The rest of the colonists had fled Eudoria. Bronson didn’t blame them. He was determined to fight though. “All colonists with engagement experience and no armor or gun, please step up.” Bronson pushed his way to the front and hopped on the stage. He went over to the container behind Hank. 
“Just take any set of armor?” 
“Yeah, the type of armor is labeled on the box it’s in.” 
Bronson grabbed the first box he could see. He pulled it aside, and set it on the table. He opened the container to the left of him, and withdrew a weapon. Also in a box. Bronson carried them out into the street, and opened them up. The armor was orange, with black stripes running down the sides. Nemesis. He put it on. The helmet was a little bit tight, but it was still nice fit. He opened the box containing the gun. It was a high-end Starkhov. The tables were turned, and the colonists were about to mount their own assault on Hadeshiem. They’d take the city back, if it was the last thing they did.

Chapter 5. 

The night loomed over Atlas Island like a ton of bricks. Everyone was tired and worn out. They all got their much deserved sleep. Back in Hadeshiem, the dropships were abuzz with action. Defenseless colonists were being found and shot. From the space station, a zero life sign reading rose over the wrecked city. There was no on left. Atlas Island was packed however. Spacecraft launched people down to Eudoria to provide support. At best, all the colonists still armed made a small battalion. There were thousands of the robots. Bronson was the only one awake after dark. He thought to himself how to severely cripple the enemy. A direct force attack would result in disaster. He had to some way take out a mass number of troops at once. He looked over at the generators around Atlas Island. He had a thought, but slowly drifted to sleep in his small cot. 
The morning rose with a bang. Hank, zHA, and a few other people all clad in fancy types of armor walked into the main building once more. Bronson stood at the doorway, in plain view, listening. “Well, if we can get them separated, we could fight them easily, Even if we break their lines in half, we could save hundreds of our own. Head on, we stand no chance.” Hank said to the open group. 
“But how are we going to get their lines separated.” Said a man in Angel armor. 
Bronson spoke up, his voice booming. “We detonate something.” The congregation stared at him. “The generators outside. If we drop those, wired to blow onto the liquid fuel depot at Hadeshiem central, it would literally blow the city in half, straight up the main sewer line. The gap would be too wide for anything to cross.” 
Someone who was in plain clothes spoke up from somewhere to the left of the map table spoke up. “But we’d be crippling the economy.” 
“If we don’t cripple the economy,” Hank said, “then we cripple our chances at winning. It’s been known for a long time that the robots hate our guts. They are ruthless. The kill the innocent and unarmed, and shed no emotion. They have none. This plan will work fellow colonists. If they cannot feel pain now, we will teach them the meaning of it.” 
Bronson spoke out once again. “We need a small team to fly the generators out from the airport here. Then, once we’re over the city in the spacecraft, we’ll have to do a HALO drop, which means attaching rockets on to them to guide them to the strategic points along the ground. If we can get that done, we’ll be able to pull this off.” 
The group agreed fully, and dismissed themselves. Sue came up behind Bronson, and tapped his shoulder, while pulling him away at the same time. “Hey… thanks again, zHA told me you ran back to drag me out of the grinder.” 
“Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t want to see you dead.” Bronson felt the warmness rush to his face. “But um… I mean strictly professionally.” Sue nodded and began to walk away. When Bronson turned around she gave him a slap on the hindquarters and walked away. Bronson turned around and smiled at her. 

--three hours later— 
“OK MEN!” Bronson yelled over the roar of the jet’s engines. “WE DROP DOWN WITH THE GENERATORS, WIRE THEM TO BLOW, THEN GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! HADESHIEM EAST IS OUR ONLY WAY OUT, SO WE SHOULD ALL BE MEETING AT OUR LAST EXIT POINT FROM THE CITY! THERE ARE PLENTY OF TRANSPORTS LEFT OUT OF THERE!” Bronson put his parachute over the Nemesis harness, and stood backwards, facing them, back to the open sky. He slapped his chest, and fell out of the craft backwards. In midair, he caught hold of the falling generator. He began the wiring. 
Falling from 33k feet was magnificent, but if you didn’t pull your chute in time, there wouldn’t be enough left of you to scrape into a tin can. Bronson went to pull his parachute… the cord ripped right out. The flimsy line had snapped. Bronson then preceded to yell many obscenities. He noticed the strong zip line on the generator. Bronson checked the altitude meter on his wristwatch. 
Several minutes later, Bronson reached over, and ripped the cord straight outwards. The parachutes flew open, and Bronson was squeezed against the generator. It thudded against the ground with ease, as well as the others did, each in there prospective place. One by one, the generators blew, and its defender grouped with the next generator. Soon, all the generators had done their job. The explosion was magnificent. Brilliant blue-white flames erupted from each pod. Troopers and drones went flying into the air, while warriors scuttled out of the way. 
Now their only problem was getting out. The Eastern border was defended heavily. Bronson pulled the Starkhov off his back, and pulled the bar down, loading the first bullet. A load double click signified the round was ready. Bronson walked quietly down the street, poking the gun around each corner. Bronson sidled up to the wall after he heard a mechanical footstep. Carefully, he poked his head around the corner, looking. A hoard of troopers and warriors stood in their path. 
“This is it. The big fight out of the city…” The men and women nodded. They understood some of them wouldn’t make it out. 

Chapter 6 

Gunfire erupted in the small area. Lasers blasted overhead and explosions coated the ground. Shells rained down from the Starkhov as it spit its fiery death all around. An unlucky warrior took a full clip to the face. The bullets pummeled into the vision disk of the robot, blinding it. More shots ripped through the head of it, which unfortunately was molded into the torso. Lines of death ripped straight through it, tearing out internal circuitry, and replacing it with free space and lead. Bronson reached down and pulled the clip out. “Ok time for the heavy duty stuff.” Bronson took out a special ammo box. “New bullets.” On the side of the grey-green box were two words. Depleted Uranium. Bronson popped his head out to see how the warrior fared. It lay, twisted, on the ground, leaking oil. The bot looked like it had been bleeding. He ducked back down again. 
Anyone who knows what depleted uranium is will be happy to use it. The material itself is slightly radioactive. Depleted Uranium shots have a nasty tendency to take anything inside the armor, and rip it out the two inch hole it makes in the back. When other bullets melt, the uranium stays in shape, allowing it to puncture the thickest of armor. Bronson clipped the bullets into his gun. Using one hand to pull the trigger, and the other to stabilize himself, he fired into an oncoming trooper. The enormous machine went down in a hail of gunfire. Bullet holes ripped right through the steel frame of the bot, tearing the internals outside the back. The empty shell of the 10 foot tall trooper dropped to its knees and died on the spot. Bronson turned to the next one and repeated. The lien of bullets ripped the head clean off the bot. He only had another 50 shots of this, and now they needed it desperately. 
Taking up aim again, Bronson targeted the nearest Warrior. He squeezed the trigger as a line of death ripped from the nozzle. Where other shots would have bounced off the hard armor until it was damaged enough to shoot into, The uranium shells tore right through. Bronson saw the bullets exit the back, and jumped over the concrete barrier he was hiding behind. He landed on his feet on the other side, and dove behind a wall as a Laser burned right past the side of his head. He peeked his shoulder and head out to fire, but got nailed in the arm. Bronson braced for the immense pain, but it never came. The Nemesis armor held up. Bronson fired a few more times, taking down the pesky robot. It twisted backwards and blew up, as Bronson ruptured the generator. The whole torso flew off and landed next to him. Bronson kicked the vision system in. He spit on the carcass and moved along the wall to the next hiding spot. 
“Bronson! I’m almost outta juice!” A colonist said next to him. 
“Fall back, stay towards the rear of the lines!” 
“Aye sir!” 
In the back of his mind Bronson knew that if this battle continued the way it was going, they’d lose. The whole group of forty of them were slowly creeping up the street, but by the time they’d hit the other side, it’d be dusk. By then, they’d all be dead. “Shoulda brought more people!” he said to himself. Bronson popped his head over to see a few troopers closing in on him. Woody crouched next to him, with his back to the wall. “This ain’t lookin’ too good there Bronson.” 
“I know buddy. We’ll get out of here, but we need to move foreward.” 
“Then lets go!” Bronson stood straight up, and charged into the line of troopers. They fired, but he dove out of the way. He stood up, and raked a line of bullets across four of them. Two fell over backwards. The other two recoiled from the shot, and tried to take aim. Enormous explosions appeared where their heads had been, and someone clad in Supremacy armor appeared, holding a Personal Cannon. The headless carcasses of the robots fell in front of Bronson. Twisted metal marked where their dome shaped heads had been. Bronson could see sparks inside the body, and small fires. 
All around him bots fell. Where had the new fighters come from? Elite colonists ripped through the bots like they were paper. A whole unit outfitted with Shadow armor ran past him, blasting anything they could see, ripping the whole group of troopers apart. Bronson joined their charge, as did the rest of the units. He yelled out to them. “THE CAVALRY IS HEAR GUYS!” Moving slowly down the street, and taking out as many bots as humanly possible, Bronson felt for the first time that they might win this war. 
Charging down the street, they stopped to fight some more troopers. None of his men fells, as none of the backup did. Bronson unlatched the empty clip and dropped it to the ground, loading in normal bullets. “There’s the end of that.” He said. Bronson leaned up the wall, and fired a shot. It nailed a trooper, and left a small dent. “Damn.” He said. Personal cannon shots rocked the trooper and it fell over backwards. The armored back slammed down hard on the ground. Oil leaked from the bot, as Bronson jumped over it. They could see the other side. Bronson, for the first time noticed how dismal the scene was. Wildfires swept through the city, uncontrolled. The sky was a smoky grey, and the concrete, blacktop, and marble was cracked. The streets ran red and black with the lifeblood of both humans and robots. Small plant life was the only think growing inside the city of Hadeshiem. 
Bronson ran up to the nearest vehicle, and Woody got in. He looked back. A trooper that loomed over him took aim at the car. “NO!” Bronson yelled. He slammed his shoulder into the Trooper, making it sway to the side. The shot burnt into the ground, tearing up dirt and flinging rock everywhere. It turned to face him. Bronson leapt up on the face and took a small device off his belt. An Omegatron Seismic bomb. He quickly climbed up the robot, and shoved the bomb in its neck. Bronson jumped down and rolled away. He slammed the detonator down, and covered his ears. The tremendous explosion blew the head of the bot clean off. The shrapnel rained down on Bronson, and the body fell over backwards, stiff. The arms fell off, with no shoulders to support them. The rest of the troopers broke chase when they sped away to the teleporter. They had won the battle, and Bronson was sure they were going to win the war.

Chapter 7 

Sleep came easy to Bronson. His tired body was asleep before he even hit the bed. His arms hung loosely over the sides, still covered in armor. Sue walked into the room, and inspected him. No wounds, no cracks in the armor, he seemed to be fine. She reached down and began unclipping the armor for him. The arm pieces unlatched from the circular spinners on the harness which allowed the free arm movement. They then slid off the rest of the arm. Before she took the rest of the arm piece off, she had to take the gloves of. She leaned down, and picked his hand up. 
The two clips on the palm opened easily, and the slides came easily out of the wrist section. Like most of the joints on the armor, this Kevlar was what made it most expensive. The material in-between the two immovable parts, that connected it. It was as strong as the armor, and cost a whole lot more to produce. Heavier armors went up in cost not only because of protection and market flux, but also from the special fabrics woven into this part of the armor. The bodysuit under it. 
The gloves slipped off with ease, and Bronson made a noise and tossed in the cot. He then immediately went back to the same position. Sue repeated with the other hand, and slipped both arm guards off. She unlatched the helmet from the chest protector next, the double clips silently snapping open. She lifted his head, and pulled the helmet off softy. Bronson awoke with a start, fright in his eyes. When he saw who it was, he smiled. “Hey.” He greeted her. 
“Have nice rest?” 
“Best in weeks.” 
“You didn’t take your armor off, I was helping you.” 
“Thanks… I’m just so tired.” Bronson ran a finger over his exposed shoulder and gritted in pain. He pulled his hand away quickly, and bent his neck so that he could see. On his shoulder, where the laser had hit, there was an enormous bruise. The lasers fired by the troopers, while being pure light, still packed a punch when they hit. In his adrenaline rush, he hadn’t checked the shoulder for injury. 
“Come on Bronson, we need to get that X-rayed!” 
“Ok…ok… don’t rush me.” Bronson sat up slowly, making sure not to hit the sore shoulder. He reached behind his neck and unclipped the small top latch on the armor. Bronson repeated the sequence on the bottom. A loud hiss ensued, and the Chest protector popped open along a seam going down the middle. Bars kept the piece together. The orange-black armor came off easily, and was set aside. The thigh pieces, now unclipped, lay on the floor, as did the legs. 
Bronson opened the door, and waited for Sue to come out. She Foxed her blonde hair back and walked by him, leading the way to the med-lab. Sue turned around and locked the door to make sure they had no visitors during the scan. Once there, Bronson went behind a curtain and stripped down to nakedness. He put his clothes over the bar that supported the curtain, and slipped the lead vest over him. He walked out slowly, and carefully. Hopping up onto the table he asked “Do you really think it’s broken?” 
“Looks pretty bad to me. The collarbone only takes 4 lbs of pressure to break.” 
“Ok.” Bronson said. The Long camera slid up and down over him, silently taking a picture of his bones. The images popped up on the screen, revealing nothing. “I don’t see anything wrong.” Bronson said. “Good thing too, you pretty much lose function of the arm when you break your collarbone.” Bronson got up off the table and went to put his clothes back on. Sue reached over and flipped off the light before he got to the rack. “What…?” Bronson said, seconds before her soft arms grabbed him around the shoulders and pulled him into a kiss. The door stayed locked for quite some time. 

Chapter 8 

Bronson sat in his housing complex, an abandoned house on Atlas Island. He sipped a cup of coffee with Sue sitting across from him. “Two days Sue. Two days until we launch the first attack on Hadeshiem.” Bronson’s hand shook violently on the cup, so much that a little coffee dropped out. It wasn’t clear whether he was nervous or excited, maybe a little bit of both. 
“Two days. What will happen if we lose too many colonists?” 
“We won’t. There are almost a thousand of us here now. People have been flocking in from all over Calypso. Amethera is empty, the space station has a skeleton crew, and all of Eudoria is either waiting in Port Atlantis or Atlas Island. They’ll all start moving in with us as soon as we give the signal. The East teleporter is heavily guarded, but by sheer masses we’ll be able to get through.” Bronson kind of shook more at this. He knew he’d lose many friends before this was over. His ammo pack contained enough rounds for 3 thousand shots. The armor was on the wall, fully repaired, and ready to do its job protecting Bronson. 
At his request Bronson’s squad consisted of 12 people, specifically to contain the robots while the main team took out the ship. The robot ship had a teleporter designed to warp the bots anywhere the ship was. Inside his unit were Hank, Sue, zHA, and Woody. They all briefed. Bronson didn’t know the rest of them, but he needed their trust. “Ok, folks.” He said, standing up. “This is our first real assault on Hadeshiem. In two days, we take back half the city, and then blow their ship back the hell it came from.” A couple people shouted “HOO-RAH!” Bronson smiled at this. “Today, we’re no longer rouge colonists fighting for our lives. This is command team Whiskey of the United Calypso Army!” he slammed his hand on the table, making Sue jump a little bit. “For too long have we let these robot attacks occur. No more. They have killed innocent people. We don’t even know why! Let me tell you this, we will get our revenge. These robots don’t know what pain is. They have no emotions or feeling. Let us teach them what true pain feels like!” 
Bronson pulled the skull of a Drone off the wall behind him. “This is the enemy. It has killed your family, friends, brothers-in-arms, and civilians. Heed my word, tomorrow we rip them a new one!” Bronson slammed the Drone head to the floor. He picked his Starkhov up and blew several holes through the wrecked skull. “Show no mercy! DISMISSED!” 
The 10 other soldiers got up and moved, plus another colonist with a video camera. This message had been displayed across all of Eudoria, for the humans to hear. It was their rally speech, their call to arms. Bronson stepped outside and saw a mass of troops doing firing exercises. Others did pushups. He had become the unofficial spokesman for the whole army. Truly, Hank was in charge, along with the veterans in Shadow and Angel armor. 
Sue walked up behind him and slipper her arm through his. “That was inspiring.” 
“I just hope we’ll be good to go in two days. All hell will break loose soon. We’ll have dead and wounded soldiers, low supplies, but we can do it. I know we can.” Bronson looked back to Sue. “Promise you’ll stick with me, promise you’ll stay safe.” 
“I promise…” she said softly. He hugged her, and then kisses her on the lips. Slowly letting go, Bronson ran off the main Atlas Island building to speak with the others. They had a lot to plan on.

2nd page