Chapter Text
I’m on my hands and knees. I come back to myself, the feeling of heavy static leaving my head. I don’t remember how I got here. I’m on the ground, metal flooring beneath my palms. I move to stand when something smashes into the top of my head causing my face to bang against the floor. Panicked, I prop myself up and began to cower backwards.
Hurry and get up, you little idiot.
A jolt of horror has me back on my feet. I stumble backward just in time to block a punch aimed straight at my face. With a smooth twist of my shoulder, and a swift step to my left, I launch my assailant away from me. They tumble a few meters before they catch themself and stand. I get a look at them. They're some sort of construct, judging by their motions and armor,and now they’re running right at me.
I shift my weight back onto my haunches and leap forward, somersaulting over their head. I land softly behind them and swing my elbow up and backwards to strike them square between the shoulder blades. They stumble away from me without a sound. How’d I do that? That was a good move.
Cheers erupt around me. I still go stock still with fright. My nervous system spikes my blood full of adrenaline. I’m standing in a large oval arena, with elevated seats rising up high along the edges. Hundreds of humans and augmented humans are looking at me, yelling and cajoling. My thoughts stutter. I shift forward onto one foot then back to the other, frozen with indecision. How did I get here? All of my parts scream at me to run.
The combatant construct wraps their arm around my throat and yanks me backward against their chest. I let out a surprised noise as they tighten their grip and crush my windpipe.I kick my feet out against the ground. I see I am wearing armor, but not company armor. What the fuck. My leg armor is flashy and decorated with lines of light. It’s a sleek dark blue and the cyan and magenta lights blur in my vision as my head swims and I thrash.
Is that fun? Are you trying to pass out?
Is that my handler? Do I have a handler? Fucking hell did my handler put me in a fight with another construct? Great. I discover my combatant is some kind of combat or security unit when a blazing hot gun port on their forearm pops open and is pressed to my temple.
You’re looking foolish. Get a move on. says my handler. It seems like a good idea.
I let all my weight drop towards my knees. The sudden momentum tears my neck free from the construct’s grasp and causes them to stumble forward. I kick my heel out with the strength of my hip and bash their feet out from under them. As they fall over me, I swing my closed fist into an uppercut and catch the bottom of their jaw with a crack.
I leap away from them and rush to the edge of the ring. There is a heavily dented, rounded wall surrounding the area. Not slowing my run, I try to scample up to the seating above but can only manage to climb it for a few feet. The crowd of people scream with both horror and strange amused delight as I almost reach them before sliding back down with a thump. I frantically run my hands against the barrier and catch the seam of a sliding door under my fingertips. I pry at it with all my strength but while the metal bends and gives way under my hand - the door stays tightly shut.
What’s the plan here? my handler asks.
I swing my eyes up to the crowd and try to spot who could possibly be talking to me in the feed, to find my handler. What the fuck did they mean? They were supposed to be telling me what the plan was! But it was a direct question, and I needed to answer it before my governor module punished me.
Getting a move on! I answer, and immediately regret it. In the feed the words drip heavy with frustration, fear, and disrespect. I grit my teeth for the shock my governor module is about to deliver, but nothing happens. Huh? I definitely earned a little shock there...hello?
That's when I see a chunk of my bicep get blown off and slap against the sliding door in front of me. Surprise, then pain. A sharp little noise escapes my throat and I turn to face the combatant construct. I see them suddenly startle, likely being shocked for missing a headshot. My performance reliability drops as another piece of myself, burnt and steaming, falls onto my dark blue boots. I waiver.
I’ve got it. It’s okay. My handler says.
I feel like my head is suddenly detached from my body as inputs are torn away from me and held afloat somewhere else. My vision crispens, my sense of smell is shut off, and something turns down my pain sensors. The presence ebs away from me like a wave receding into the ocean, placing me back into my body, then it suddenly fills me entirely for a moment before retreating again. It felt like getting patted by a goliath. Like being embraced by a blackhole. Horror fills me to the absolute brim.
Wait My handler says but I am already screaming.
I tilt my head back and shriek a loud and horrified noise. The audience reacts with sudden and abrupt silence. I feel all their eyes on me. Camera drones hover down into the area, daring to get close to me. I lash out at one of them as I gasp for breath but it swings out of the way.
I’m here, little thing. My handler says, surprise in its words, and its presence fills me full again. I fall onto my ass and blindly grope backward into the dented wall.
“No, no! Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t!” I wail. The immense feeling disappears and I let my head loll backward in relief. My vision becomes shaky again, I can suddenly smell my charred flesh, and my pain sensors reset to their baseline. Ow.
There is almost complete silence until suddenly a booming voice plays from the ceiling. It is crisp and jolly. “It appears Murderbot must have received an admonishment!”
The crowd gasps in gleeful surprise.
“I know, I know!” The announcer chirps. “Not something we’ve seen before, folks! That must mean this fight is a special one! It might just be your lucky night, Murderbot fans!”
The crowd begins to cheer. What the fuck is going on. The arena lights suddenly dim and my eyes' night filters flick-on. I see my opponent staring at me. The camera lens in their eyes reflecting a pink glow back out at me.
What’s going on? They didn’t like that. Stay still, they're resetting the stage. My handler says, feeling distant in the feed.
The combatant construct takes a deep breath in the dark, then straightens their posture and twists at their hips just slightly. I startle as I see the flash of their gun ports opening, but only one port contains an energy weapon. From their right port slides a long silver and black blade, with brutal notches along the knife edge made for tearing. Light blue spotlights thump on above me and swivel to land on the construct.
The announcer’s smile is obvious in their voice. “Let’s get this show started up again!”
The humans and augmented humans surrounding us let out a unified and well-timed “Let’s go!”, and begin to stomp their feet against the floor of their seating, hard and fast. It creates a terrifying rattling noise and I feel the vibrations travel down the wall and through my back. Suddenly they all stop at once, with just a few excited stragglers still quaking in their seats.
“Let’s hear it for Dragon!!!”
The construct, Dragon, lifts their arm up to the sky and I see a second port next to their energy weapons barrel. A hot blast of red fire erupts from it. Loud music begins to play and a screen above and behind Dragon comes to life with wild shades of light blue and red. The construct cuts off it’s flame thrower just in time to reveal an image of itself on the screen that flickers through an assortment of quick clips of it absolutely kicking ass, all in time with the music. Dragon is wearing light blue armor with bright red and orange flame decals. From the wide collar of their chest plate flows a steady stream of artificial smoke that catches the light. The crowd goes nuts.
The spotlight goes out with a pop, and I hear a thump above me. A magenta and cyan spot light swivel above me to meet where I am crouched on the ground. A song starts playing, starting quick and building momentum. Some of the crowd sings along. I don’t know the song but it makes my organic parts practically buzz with excitement. What is happening to me? A third yellow spot light begins to swing towards me and my handler is in my head again.
Get up. my handler says.
I feel it take some of my inputs into itself. It practically tears them out of my shaking hands. I don’t know what's happening and I'm so scared that now I just feel pissed off. I feel my handler lower my pain sensors again. What is this, punishment? Taking things away from me, even the hurt?
My handler is experienced. There is no way out, I need to be a good secunit. I’ve been forced to fight my own kind before for my client's enjoyment and this seems to be a glorified version of that.
My apologies, handler. And then send a ping of obedient acknowledgment.
What? My handler says, sudden sharp confusion, but the yellow spot light meets the others, suddenly casting me in a brilliant white light just as the music becomes tremendously loud. I’m on my feet, wavering only slightly. I feel my handler hand me a drone input. A reward. I use it to watch myself.
Behind me plays a video of a construct in my flashy dark blue armor. It must be me, but I try not to think about it, because I do not remember doing any of the things in the video. It’s a very exciting video, with lots of details. Lots of jumping and leaping, a lot of graceful, quick,and merciful immobilization done to my opponents by my hands. It ends with a name written diagonally across the screen in magenta: “MURDERBOT”. I’m Murderbot? What the fuck? What kind of name is that?
The crowd erupts in cheers, and one section of the audience breaks into a fight song based around my name. I am going to shoot myself in the head. My performance reliability drops and I feel my handler pick up the slack and take some processes away from me. Dammit.
I settle into a combat stance, and then a sound echoes through the arena that sends adrenaline through my system. I know the fight has restarted. Dragon and I charge each other. We meet in the center of the arena with a shower of sparks. The armor on my arms meets with my opponent's blade. I try to sink them down against the ground but the inorganics of their feet sink easily into the metal of the floor and they begin to push me over. I realize they are stronger than me.
>_ping-handler? I send as I'm forced backward.
Something is wrong. My handler says.
No shit! I can’t help but to shout into the feed. Woah why did I let myself do that?
The punishment comes immediately. My handler floods my head with its heavy presence. My arms fold in against my opponent's weapon and I am forced onto my back. Dragon drops down onto my torso and flicks their wrist around so they can aim their knife at my throat.
>_ping-handler?
>_ping-handler? Assistance required!
>_ping-handler! Requesting Requesting Requesting
My arms tremble as Dragon presses the knife to my throat. They flex their shoulders down and force it through my skin. I choke and accidentally make a little noise. I get my knees up and thrust my hips up into that air, trying to get my assailant to lose balance. My handler fucking sucks. What an asshole.
I heard that. My handler says. Pleasant, streamlined code enters my head. Instructions.
I thrust my hips up again, this time with a pivot. Dragon loses balance for a moment, and I latch my fingers around their forearm, right above the port where their knife rests. I use the momentum of them falling sideways to lift myself up and bring my knee high into the air. With a sharp movement I pull their arm back towards me and snap their forearm against the angled point of my shin armor.
They flail backward and my handler floods my mind with a new set of instructions. I leap gracefully forward, both hands outstretched, and catch Dragon by their shoulders. I press them hard into the ground like an animal about to eat its prey. My gun ports hiss open, revealing magenta colored lights that cast my opponents helmet in eerie shades of red. The stadium spotlights swing around dramatically to aim at us. There are transparent bits of my armor and non-organic parts that gleam in the light, showing off my sleek inner workings. Gross.
Your opponent used malware against you. My handler says. You fought it off but it accidentally triggered the memory corruption failsafe we had ready.
My handler has me press my energy weapons tightly against my opponent's skull. Following its instructions, I carefully shift my aim slightly to the side. I see my opponent's eyes flutter through their helmet’s visor. Was that relief?
I have no idea what you’re talking about. I say
That’s what I just implied, you little freak.
There is so much feeling behind the words that I jolt with terror that runs icy hot down my spine. I fire my energy weapon into the side of my opponent's skull and scramble away from their smoking form towards the edge of the arena. The crowd is howling and music is playing.
I scramble against the door out of the arena again, but this time it slides open. I run through and find myself in a short chrome hallway dead-ended by another shut door. I make a panicked sound that ends in a squawk as I feel my handler fill my mind.
It’s okay. You know me. My handler says.
No no no don’t! I send, as it pushes its presence into me.
It’s so much that I slide to the ground with a confused gasp. I don’t need to gasp, what is going on with me? I press myself firmly against the cold metal floor as my handler takes control of my systems. I feel my handler calm my nervous system down, and flush my blood of the chemicals causing my panic. My pain sensors dial down to almost zero. I feel like I'm both floating, and thoroughly pinned down. My mind races but my handler doesn’t let my body feel the distress.
I have you. My handler says, the feed full of their panic, stress, and… affection?
I listen to the crowd cheer my name as I'm forced to surrender to my handler.
>_ping-handler - Acknowledged.