Mechanical Minds

A Midsummer Knight's Dream

Susie was an odd woman. Meta was sure of that. Callous, conniving, treacherous and odd. She'd tormented and broken him into serving her, forcibly manipulating his body and commanding him to attack somebody he held very dear. Resentment and hate boiled inside him, and yet... There was an undeniable empty sadness about her. Like she was an errant puzzle piece that could never quite find were it once belonged.

"With all due respect Sir, this has to be your worst idea yet" Dee huffed. Considering that her esteemed leader had once inadvertently crashed his ship during a training exercise after beating the hell out of his own crew members, this was saying something.

"We were entirely outclassed by their technology. I am simply doing what I must to ensure something like this doesn't happen again" he responded evenly.

"She turned you into a robot! The burns on your face haven't even healed yet!" she snapped. Meta seemed to ponder this.

"Technically, I was a cyborg" he amended. Dee resisted the urge to strangle him. Meta sank back into his thoughts, either oblivious or unperturbed. Throughout that unpleasant ordeal, she had almost exclusively praised him. Calling him impressive, noble, and powerful no matter what invectives he spewed back. What kind of person tormented and destroyed something that they so admired?

"What has gotten into you?!" she admonished. Meta had to admit he didn't truly know. But he knew it was at least partially his burning curiosity over who exactly Susie was. Not that he would admit such a frivolous reason.

"Nothing has 'gotten into me'. I am taking steps to prevent another catastrophe" he said flatly. Dee sighed heavily, and buried her head in her hands.

"When this ends badly, don't come crying to me" she muttered. Meta only tilted his head at her from across the table. The meeting room seemed so empty with only two people inside it.

"I am far from trusting her, Dee. I am fully aware how treacherous she is. But she is the only source of information on their technology after that wretched businessman disappeared into his machine." He closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "Technology capable of recreating a god..."

"And look how well that turned out" Dee finished. Meta opened one eye, catching her in its piercing gaze.

"I am not foolish enough to meddle with such forces. My only goal is enhanced fortification of the Halberd, seeing as it's proven to possess some... structural insufficiencies" he nearly muttered the last part.

"As long as you don't try to bootleg a god" Dee added. She stood from her seat, stretching and yawning. Meta glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Leaving so soon?" he drawled.

"It's 2 A.M., Sir. I'm going to bed" she answered.

"Remember: the crew meeting begins promptly at 0600" he said. Dee laughed.

"You and I both know that we'll be the only ones on time."

"It's really just a formality at this point" he grumbled. Dee waved as she exited the room, smiling fondly.

"Get some sleep, will you? I know you aren't actually nocturnal" she chided.

"Sleep well, Dee" he said softly.

He had well and truly intended to rest. But there was a certain room that lay in the path to his quarters. He gazed at it, standing a few feet back. It was suspiciously silent. He clicked open the lock, and peered inside cautiously. A sliver of light from the hallway illuminated the desk, where Susie lay slumped over the holo-screen, sound asleep.

"Some work ethic..." he murmured. Though he supposed trudging about Orange Ocean without the aid of flight could be tiring. She seemed quite peaceful with those unnerving blank eyes closed. He stood there for a few more moments before becoming acutely aware of how creepy it was to watch somebody sleep. Meta swiftly but softly closed the door, embarrassed. He darted to his quarters at the end of the hall.

He stepped into his room, locking the door behind him. His room was awash in luxurious silky fabrics, and bathed in an assortment of blues, silvers, and purples. Many archaic weapons were displayed along the wall, pristine and unblemished by dust. An array of photographs dotted nearly every available surface. Meta began the arduous task of removing all his armor. Contrary to popular rumor, it was far too uncomfortable to sleep in. The minute hand ticked past 30 by the time he finished, though he wasn't exactly rushing.

Meta opened his drawer and grabbed a t-shirt and shorts. The shorts were adorned with a pattern of tiny bats, and Meta had long resolved to throw himself into the Halberd's reactor if anyone ever saw him wearing them. He quickly changed and lay on his bed, snagging a well-worn book from his nightstand. He was barely even a few sentences in when he realized he was far too distracted to be reading. Namely because those several sentences were the same sentence, read over and over in a bleary haze.

"Great" he murmured, staring at the ceiling. A thousand thoughts clouded his mind, chasing away any drowsiness. Thoughts mainly centered on his guest (read: captive). Who was she? Was Susie truly just the wayward secretary of a now fallen company? Was her motive pure greed? Something had seemed so spiteful about how she spoke of her boss, like an undercurrent of quiet resentment hidden under heaps of praise. He shuddered. Everything about her was spiteful.

His mind wandered back to the week of torment she inflicted upon him. The jabbing, the electric shocks, being restrained, all of those hadn't quite gotten to him. It was deeply unpleasant, sure, but he had endured similar for far longer. It was when she resorted to drugging him and using electrodes to control his muscles that got to him. Unsure of what was real or not, and forced to move about like a puppet, muscles painfully contracting...

He shook his head, almost wishing to shake away the memory. Now, however, he had the upper hand in every conceivable way. Susie's henchmen, her equipment, and her weapons had been annihilated, and she was among Meta's allies now. Even so, there was something undeniably dangerous about her. He was so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice his eyes slide shut. He also failed to notice when he drifted off into a restless sleep, plagued with twisted memories both old and new.