Braden leaned against the small brick wall that separated the GYM floor from the foyer. He watched as Hardie had 'A' do a series of air born maneuvers. To the untrained eye, it would appear that everything was going well, 'A' was a splendid little assassin, but Hardie was anything but pleased.
“Child, you can hardly dodge the attack, and I'm barely trying.” He fussed. 'A' landed on his feet, his face flushed red, sweat dripping down his chin.
“I am trying sir/ It is not easy to do/ I can't bend that way.” 'A' huffed, leaning on his knees for support. It had been a week sense he had woken up to his new situation. He wasn't given anytime to recover before thrown into a strict training regiment with Hardie. Braden wasn't messing around with his project and intended to keep things moving.
“Hardie, what's the problem?” Braden finally spoke up, calling to the trainer. Hardie sighed, walking to the wall, giving 'A' a moment to catch his breath.
“I'm sure if we keep up this strict training schedule, he will have these skills mastered by the end of the year.” Hardie explained.
“The end of the year? That's months away, I need results now.” Braden grumbled. Hardie gave a soft chuckle, leaning on his elbows.
“You aren't very patient.”
“No.” Braden sighed.
“Well, he's definitely naturally skilled in some form of the word. However, there is a large amount of conditioning he needs to go through in order to train his body to be more flexible. Well...for it to be conditioned naturally that is.” Hardie explained, a sly smile spreading over his face. Braden was quiet for a moment before raising a brow.
“What are you suggesting Hardie?” Braden turned to face the trainer better.
“I'm surprised you hadn't thought of it already before.” the trainer snorted. “You could artificially increase his flexibility. A little bit of extra cartilage in the joints can make a world of difference. Removing a few ribs would allow him to easily do that twist maneuver i've been trying to teach him. Heck, the thinner he is, the lighter he'll be on his feet. I suggest you take all this into consideration.” Hardie shrugged before pushing himself off the wall and marching over to 'A'. Braden rolled these new ideas around in his head, watching as 'A' began a routine utilizing his invisibility. A wicked smile began to spread over the scientists face. He wasn't in a position to take his sweet time. Hyperion was changing, it was moving quickly, even the CEO's could hardly keep up. He didn't have time to wait for the experiment to naturally do anything.
With his mind made up, he left 'A' to the trainer and headed off across the lab. As he stepped out of the GYM, he was immediately accompanied by his new CL4P-TP unit who had been waiting for him.
“Here's that smoothie you wanted.” the purple robot held up an orange colored drink. Braden grabbed it, muttering under his breath as he sipped at the fruity liquid.
“Clap-Trap, what's the schedule of the brainstorming committee?” He continued to stroll towards his office.
“Uhhh, oh, well the only big thing they have scheduled is lunch...actually, that's the only things they have scheduled. Oh they're so lazy. I'm so glad I don't have to take lunch breaks...well...now that I think about it, that sounds like a great idea. I could party, I could dance, visit the upgrade center. Hey, boss, could I get lunch breaks from now on? I want to connect with my inner human and enjoy a taco!” He rambled on per-usual.
“Inform the committee that i'll be meeting with them later today.” Braden ignored the robots question. He wasn't a fan of the talkative machinery, but the CL4P-TP unit did whatever he asked and it was the closet thing he was getting to a slave.
“Right away!” Clap-Trap saluted, wheeling off to speak with said committee.
Braden spent most of his day seeing to it that 'A' visited the necessary professionals that would help mold him into the perfect assassin. He took note of every flaw they found, making sure to remove it from the genetic makeup whenever he got around to experiment B. That's all 'A' was, the guinea pig, the test run. Braden intended to try all sorts of ideas and theories on the freak of nature. After all, what did he care if he broke this one? He planned to make thousands of them. Each one would be better than the first. Slowly, he would genetically modify them to perfection, until he could spit out impeccable cookie cutter assassins.
It was the brainstorming committee's job to decide what experiments would be most beneficial to preform on 'A'. What would make him better?
Braden walked into the long, packed meeting room late in the afternoon. The whole committee had gathered just as he requested, all eager to please. Hyperion was on the move and all its workers were itching to prove themselves in some way. The members of the committee were of no exception. All of them had recognition on their mind. They were constantly trying to out think each other. It was the workers with the craziest ideas that would succeed in the company.
“Ok guys, what have you all come up with for the assassin?” Braden asked them. Immediately everyone began to talk, shouting out their ideas and completely overwhelming the unsuspecting scientist.
“Woah, one at a time. Please.” Braden shouted over them, causing the whole room to quiet down. Within seconds practically everyone had their hand raised, waiting to be called on.
“Uh, wow, ok there are a lot of you. Uh, how about you?” He pointed towards a random worker.
“So, we all know that assassins are supposed to be badass', but how can an assassin be a badass if they have to take breaks like the rest of us?” He asked. The room muttered in agreement.
“What...what exactly do you mean by that? Like...naps or...” Braden scratched at his head, there was no way everyone else understood what that man was thinking.
“No. Think about it. Whenever you are doing a tough workout or running or fighting, you always have to stop and just catch your breath for a moment. Breathing begins to hurt and it even gives us cramps. We have to breath faster to keep up with the pace of our accelerated heart beets. But what if we could bi-pass the assassins lungs? We could create a sort of ventilator to filter in Oxygen and filter out CO2 much faster than any set of lungs.” The man explained.
“Ok...liking that idea, what else you guys got?” Braden pointed to a man who was waving his arm madly.
“Well, to add on to what he said; we could take it a step further. If we created an extra pump that acted as a second heart, it would allow him to have basically unlimited stamina if paired with the ventilator. Whenever his organic heart reached a certain BPM, the artificial pump would then begin to aid it. It would be like being able to do an infinite amount of work and your heart resting as if you were just walking. You could run without getting winded and so on.”
Braden couldn't help but smile, the brainstorming committee was by far his favorite branch of the project.
“Brilliant, all of this is just astounding. Give me more, come on.” He pointed to an older man in the back.
“Add a tracking device into his brain implant, that way if he ever tried to escape again we could easily track him down.” He suggested.
“Smart, honestly we should have done that from the start. Kind of seems obvious.” Braden rolled his eyes, earning a chuckle from the room. He gave a quick smile before pointing towards another committee member.
“I think it would make sense if we removed unneeded parts. If he was lighter It would make him quicker and far more agile. We've already discarded the tail and wings. I know there is only so much you can remove, but the reproductive organs can definitely go, they are unnecessary. He wasn't created to have offspring anyways. If anything, it's more of a weakness, just another body part to worry about.” They argued.
“Makes sense, liking it. Anymore thoughts?” The room fell into an agreement that these four ideas were by far the best options for now. Surely, with these presented modifications, the experiment was bound to be more assassin like in no time.
“Ok, whoever came up with these proposals needs to make a detailed report of the said idea and leave it in the drop box by my office.” Braden instructed, thanking the committee for their brilliant minds.
Clapt-Trap wasn't the smartest robot in Hyperion and he definitely was not the most popular, but there was something about the CL4P-TP units that made them special. Unlike the Loaders, Probes, and other AI creations, the Clap-Traps almost had a sense of humanity...almost.
It was this certain strain of programming, that little piece of data that whirred in the back of the purple robots mind. He was sad, in a way and tried his best to turn a blind eye to the things happening with the project. He wanted to except his new roll as errand bot, which wasn't much of a difference from what he did for Clay. However, that small bit of wiring in him that made Clap-Traps just a little bit more organic than their fellow Hyperion bots, was starting to make him...regretful. It had been two months sense he was handed over to Braden, and slowly he was coming to hate him more and more.
He wheeled through the lab, caring a stack of files from Hardie that were supposed to be delivered straight to Braden. He rolled up to the small elevator that had been installed by Tabitha. It took him up to Braden's office where he sat, napping in his chair. Clap-Trap tried his best to sneak the files onto his desk without waking him, he wasn't a fan of Braden's company. Sadly the robot was a stranger to peace and quiet and forgot his whole plan to be sneaky when he eyed a piece of junk mail strewn over Braden's desk.
It was an invitation of sorts, to the grand opening of the Disco Club located on the up and coming Hyperion base, Hellios.
“Ooooh! Dancing! I'm always down to boogie!” He cheered, the panel atop his head opened up as that sparkly disco ball rose up.
“Break it down!” He sang, moving his arm back and forth, “wub wub wub wub.”
Braden sat up with a jerk, squinting at the multi colored lights that flashed and danced around his office.
“What in the...” The irritated scientist jerked out of his chair confused and bewildered. His eyes soon fell on the dancing robot by his desk. Angry, he kicked the back end of the CL4P-TP unit making him tumble by the desk. Unfortunately the disco ball caught on the desks' ledge, and with the weight of the robot pulling against it, snapped off it's support beam and began to roll around the office floor. Clap-Trap pushed himself up just in time to see it roll straight for the exit and tumble down the flight of stairs. Braden stared daggers at the purple robot, until the silence was broken by the sound of shattering glass, no doubt the disco ball. The robot didn't say a word and closed the panel over his head, the CL4P-TP party of one was shut down, for good.
“What is wrong with you?” Braden growled, fists curled tightly.
“I was bringing you some files for Hardie...they're on your desk.” Clap-Trap explained, no trace of emotion in his usually cheery voice.
“Has the experiment woken up yet?” Braden let his hands unclench, folding them close to his chest instead.
“I'm not sure.”
“Well make yourself useful and go find out. Bring me a report of his vitals.” Braden waved him off as he buried his attention into the new stack of files. Clap-Trap tried to ignore the sparkly glass shards that littered the lab floor bellow. He quickly reminded himself that he could always buy another one, after all, there was a time for partying and a time for working.
Quickly he made his way to the Medical sector, waving at nurses as he passed by. No one questioned the small robot that constantly scurried up and down the halls, he had full access to nearly all the sectors.
Clap-Trap wheeled up to a passcode protected door, punched in the code on the key pad, and proceeded inside. He was in a cold metal room adorned with wires, tubes and all kinds of blinky machinery. There was a small medical bed in the center of the room, a single light shining upon it. 'A' was on the bed, head facing up and eye closed. He was covered in a thin blue sheet that had its fair share of blood stains splattered on it. At first glance, anyone would assume that the gray toned experiment was dead, there was no rise or fall of his chest, no breath escaped him. However, Clap-Trap knew better. He could hear the almost silent hum of the ventilator that had been installed to his implant.
Clap-Trap took a moment to take in the ever changing features of 'A'. He was hardly a year old and already he was the size of an average pre-teen. Thanks to the Stalker DNA, his brain had been able to keep up with the quick growth caused by the development enhancers Braden was pumping him with. Although the implant had fixed his speech problem, 'A' hardly talked anymore, slowly becoming a secluded shut in, he seemed happier alone. He hardly ever smiled, and the unnatural scrawniness caused by the rib removal made him appear almost alien. If Clay could see him now, surely he would not recognize him.
Clap-Trap felt that same sensation that all of this...was wrong. But, he wiped it from his mind and proceeded to check the machines for A's vitals.
“Ok ok, I like what i'm seeing so far. Still, is there anyway we you can, I don't know...work faster?” Jack barked to Everett as the two strolled around the inner most room of Helios. Everett was supposed to be showing off the progress to Jack, but the overseer always found something to complain about. Tabitha was on the far side of the room, installing the sliding door. She was almost done, just working out a few bugs in the control pad. As she skillfully cut and weaved wires, she had her ears open, drowning out the sound of the other mechanics at work and listening to the conversation her bosses were having.
“I'm afraid you'll have to forgive us for that,” Everett began, “my mechanics are new here and most of them are easily distracted by this incredible space station. I'm sure it'll only be a matter of days before they are used to their new surroundings and working at top speed.” Jack sighed knowingly.
“Yeah, this place is pretty great.” A proud smile crept onto his face. “But it'll be even better once I get the eye of the destroyer.” He stopped in front of a huge sphere in the wall, arms open wide as he gestured towards it.
“Picture this. The vault is opened, the destroyer is...well...destroyed. We harvest that massive aliens eye and turn it into a big ass laser gun powerful enough to wipe out whole cities. BLAST! And they're gone. With this, I can finally cleanse that dirt hole of a planet Pandora.” Jack laughed, Everett however was blind to the joke.
“The vault...I don't quite get what you're saying.” He raised a brow.
“....I forget how simple minded you mechanics can be.” Jack snorted and quickly turned on his heel. “Don't worry too much about it though, you'll figure it out soon enough.” Jack called back, heading for the exit.
Tabitha let her mind wonder, trying to figure out what Jack had been talking about. Pandora, a vault, a destroyer? She had never heard of those things before. However, what she had gathered was that Jack had something sinister planned. As her mind began to wonder, she consequently lost focus of her work, connecting the wrong wires together. A harsh beep echoed from the control pad and the sliding door zipped closed, nearly crushing Jack in the process.
Tabitha's eyes widened as her gaze slowly met that of the now irritated overseer. She wanted to bark out an apology, but the way his eyes scanned her whole body made her mouth smack shut. Finally Jack's features seemed to soften and he spied the two wires she held in her hand.
“You uh...going to let me through? Or is there a secret password I need to know.” He teased. The total one eighty of his attitude made Tabitha's skin crawl and she quickly disconnected the two wires, managing to mutter out a,
“Sorry.”
“No harm done.” Jack waved it off and left through the now open door. Tabitha tried to erase the encounter from her mind, just the thought of Jack sent chills down her spine. Something about him was off. That night, as she rested on her plush bed, she couldn't help but think that maybe coming to Helios was a mistake. Everything was so advanced and beyond anything she had seen back at her home base. She was out of her element for sure. Jacks words rang in her ears, she could close her eyes and picture the conversation like it was happening all over again.
“Picture this. The vault is opened, the destroyer is...well...destroyed. We harvest that massive aliens eye and turn it into a big ass laser gun powerful enough to wipe out whole cities. BLAST! And they're gone. With this, I can finally cleanse that dirt hole of a planet Pandora.” the memory then faded.
She thought she had been recruited to help build the space station, a new HQ for Hyperion, but Jack didn't seem to care about that. He seemed more occupied in turning Helios into a giant floating death ray in space. She shuttered, hoping that she wasn't helping to build a weapon for mass destruction. 648Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvWg1PzWPRF
Authors Note: Another 15 minute read...seems to be all i'm able to dish out at the moment. Ugh, we're getting to a part that I was stoked to write, but apparently not prepared to. Things are starting to unravel.
Chapters without Clay: 3 (idk why I'm even counting that lol) 648Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9pl19r3PZ6
