Go Time

MT-01’s distress beacon was leading them closer to Volkria than they liked but the MTs stayed the course; they were eager to close the gap between their shuttle and the MT Transport. Soon after leaving Rilleco, the troopers discovered that the transport was moving away from them in an irregular flight pattern. They were unaware that the ship’s internal protection mechanism had detected their signal lock and was intentionally evading their shuttle, classifying it as non-MT and therefore a threat.

As they approached the planet’s outer atmosphere, the communication system abruptly came to life. “This is Task Force Volkriun, and you are in restricted space,” a monotone voice droned. “Identify yourself at once. Repeat: identify yourself at once.”

“Sounds like a Glyan,” MT-27 said angrily. “What are they doing on Volkria?”

“Don’t know and don’t care,” MT-48 replied. “Unless they try to delay our mission. That would end badly for them...I guarantee it.”

MT-106 turned away from the instrument panel. “Looks like we are going to find out - patrol ship incoming!”

Answering the Volkriuns with his synthetic speech would only make matters worse, so MT-09 ignored the hail. “We say and do nothing. When their scanners detect no life forms they will have to board the shuttle to investigate. Then we make our move.”

The veteran warriors instinctively took their posts with arms at the ready. MT-106 brought the outboard phase cannon online, hands hovering above the controls, eyes on the outer hatchway. The pulse drive of the patrol ship shook the hull as it made its approach and docked with the shuttle.

As the hatch slid open, MT-106 disabled the patrol ship’s external communication array with a blast of the cannon. The troopers raised their weapons, took aim, and-

“Hold your fire!” MT-09 shouted. It took him a beat to comprehend that the OD green troops rushing toward him were not MTs. “What the...?”

That was all the time the Glyans needed to get the jump on the troopers. MT-09 was blown off his feet as a barrage of fire erupted inside the shuttle. The three other MTs scrambled for cover as the Task Force Volkriun patrol overran their positions.

The skirmish shifted to hand-to-hand combat in the tight space. The MTs were unrivaled at close quarters fighting, and used the organic make-up of the Glyans to their advantage. Noses exploded and bones shattered; blood painted the bulkheads a deep red. Despite sustaining heavy damage during the initial assault, the troopers finally managed to overcome their foes. The last Glyan, neck bent at an impossibly grotesque angle, fell to the deck in a heap.

MT-09 surveyed the carnage. “I don’t know why these soldiers wear our green. What I do know is they haven’t earned the right to. We will get some answers soon enough, but right now we need to clean up this mess and get moving. It won’t be long before they come looking for the missing patrol.”

The troopers dragged the dead Glyans into the patrol ship, set it adrift, and resumed the search for their missing leader.

Lost Wave

Artwork by Matt Doughty, Onell Design

He was grateful to be excused from his regular duty of working with the liberated gendrones of the Build Station. Progress had slowed to a crawl and with no word from Argen, the end of the mission was nowhere in sight. MT-106 spent his time either monitoring the portable receiver or improving its range.


The tenacious MT was determined to discover the whereabouts of his fellow troopers. So far, he was unable to pick up even the slightest signal from his unit, but did manage to gather bits of intelligence about something disturbing called Zorennor. From what MT-106 could piece together, a rift in space had appeared somewhere in Glyos. It was believed to be extremely dangerous, and reports of missing ships had-

The realization hit him hard. The MTs are lost...in Zorennor! He cursed his sentience as thought after thought bombarded his synthetic mind, eliciting feelings of sadness, dread, anger. Why am I on this cursed planet instead of with my unit? Maybe I could have saved them!

MT-106 got his emotions in check before contacting MT-09. There is a chance the MTs are still alive, and getting mad won’t help them. He told his leader what he had learned from the intercepted transmissions and MT-09 agreed that chances were high their unit’s lack of communication had to do with the ominous Zorennor. An emergency meeting was called to share the facts with MT-27 and MT-48.

Rushing to meet the troopers, MT-106 almost missed the faint but steady beeping that began to emanate from the portable receiver. The signal analyzer, automatically comparing the tone to the countless samples in its database, quickly identified a match: the homing beacon of the MT Transport.

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MT-09, MT-27, MT-48, and MT-106 were in agreement; they would disobey a direct order and depart before Argen’s return. Blatant disregard of a command went against every fiber of their being, but what was the alternative? Leave their commander and fellow troopers in peril? That was not an option.

“OK, listen up,” MT-09 barked. “The MT Transport’s signal has been analyzed and confirmed. I have secured and armed a small shuttle for us. We leave immediately.”

The realization of what they had decided silenced the battle-hardened gendrones. Never before had they defied authority, but they knew what had to be done. The MTs cared deeply for MT-01 and their unit, leaving no choice but to search for them. The transformation from obedient hunks of metal to free thinking beings was complete and emotions ran high.

“Do you remember how glorious we were in battle?” MT-48 asked wistfully. “Wave after wave of green death crashing down upon our enemies without mercy. I long for those days again. We have to rescue our brothers!” The MT raised his arm, fist tightly clenched. “We must find...the Lost Wave!”

Without another word, the troopers marched off toward the ship. Once on board, MT-106 docked the portable receiver and programmed the navigation system to follow the signal. The MTs lifted off and slid out of Rilleco’s atmosphere undetected. Their journey into the unknown had begun.