MTs - Chapter One (PG)


"The training exercise is complete", the olive drab Buildman said flatly to no one. "The enemy combatants were not a problem. Our unit sustained no casualties and limited damage. All M.A.I.M. Troopers are fully functional and ready for deployment". The reply came almost immediately from a speaker hidden underneath its helmet.

"As I expected, MT-01. The added shielding prevented the Crayboth from disrupting energy and feeding. You killed them all?" The muffled voice sounded unnatural but not manufactured.


"Leave no trace of your actions and return at once." A short burst of static was followed by silence.

MT-01 strode over to the gendrones and stopped. Identical to him in color but still in their various fighting forms, the MTs patiently awaited orders. He spoke a series of commands and the group broke down and reassembled into individual troopers in platoon formation. They turned to their right as one and dispersed to sweep the battlefield for any evidence. Footprints were erased and fragments of armor removed from the piles of butchered Crayboth. The blast holes from their phase arms could have been made by any number of weapons so they left the carcasses where they lay. Unlike typical gendrones, the troopers moved fluidly as they carried out their duty.

When the task was done, several pairs of MTs began to combine. Dome shaped wheels appeared from within their backpacks as they morphed into vehicles. Troopers lined up single file, deposited the scraps they had collected into the ground transports, and marched in columns to the perimeter of a clearing. The vehicles joined them as a ship seemed to materialize out of thin air above the open area. It hovered close to the surface and extended a long ramp from its hatch. The unit deftly boarded and within minutes the spacecraft was gone.

The pilot engaged the cloaking device and studied the array of instrumentation before him. He docked with the Continuous Monitoring Radar Interface to review what it had recorded during their time on Alcray. There was trouble.

"MT-01, this is MT-52. The CMRI tracked the arrival and departure of a small ship on the planet during our maneuvers", the pilot stated to the empty cockpit. "Data on any life forms is inconclusive. Advise."

"Check its signature against the database of known vessels in the Glyos system and dispatch two short range fighters to scan the standard search radius," MT-01 answered. "Report back with any findings."

He considered the news MT-52 had just given him. I am not going to transmit this information yet. Better to wait and see what the patrol discovers. MT-01 didn't realize that what he was doing was unheard of for a gendrone. Independent thought and decision making was only for sentient beings...wasn't it?