Machine Learning: A Cave Story Quest

[Lepidoptera]

Machine Learning - Recovered Data 1 - Names I

None of you are named when you are first built. It may be an unspoken rule that a creator names their creation, but the engineers that made you had no intent to do so. You are not named after your entire squad's construction is complete and you are ready for fieldwork. There is a celebration when the time comes. Your squad is an extremely impressive technological achievement. Human-like intelligences had been created as soldiers before, but the older models had always been inferior even to human soldiers due to the costs of accommodating their processing systems. A machine that could fit a human-like mind into a space more comparable to a human brain was a triumph. They don't assign you names, though. You each have a number, counting up in order of your production, to differentiate between yourselves.

"Number Two", or just "Two" if the speaker feels like getting to the point faster, is the title you answer to for the first eight missions your squad is assigned. It's a functional enough thing to be called. "Sub-commander" is too wordy even if it's technically correct and none of your comrades care about propriety anyways. In the early days, even that title is not used often. There is little reason for Command to address any of you individually, and when they do it is always directed to the Commander. Beyond that, you do not speak much at all.

It's after the end of your eighth mission when you are waiting in your quarters that this changes. You are used to the sounds of heavy footsteps against the metal outside your room. When it stops in front of your door, you sit up from your bed and return the instructional manual in your hands to its place on the shelf. You quickly scan your room for anything out of place as you move to open the door. Everything is as it should be. Your bed is sequestered in one crowned of the room beside the desk with your computer, which is turned off. Rows of practical books, organized first by topic and then alphabetically, a carefully slotted into the shelf above your desk. There isn't a trace of clutter or disorganization. Just like you, it is clean and precise and mechanical.

When you open the door, it's not a member of Command or one of the engineers who you see waiting on the other side. Three's overly-bright smile and blue eyes greet you, already halfway through an enthusiastic greeting. She's still wearing the starkly red pants and crop top that she wore on your last mission.

"Hey! How are things, Two?"

You don't return her enthusiasm. "Three. Everything is fine. Is there a reason you're here?"

Undeterred by your obvious disinterest, Three pushes onward. Her energetic cadence slows to something more subdued and cautious, though. "Well, we've all been talking lately, and we think that-" And then, upon spotting something in your room, the energy returns in full force. "Oh! You have a rug now! When'd that happen?"

"It was the most recent hunt." you answer plainly. You aren't in any hurry to relive that mission and you don't think Three in particular is either. It's only your third encounter with Rabid Mimiga at this point, and Three in particular has trouble being proactive during the hunt. Despite the textureless, clear lighting of your base, a layer of gloom appears to settle over the entrance to you room. "Does it matter? It's a rug." you ask, moving away from the uncomfortable topic.

"I guess not really…" Three admits, enthusiasm clearly blunted. "But you don't have much in your room. I didn't think you cared about salvaging things." She suddenly straightens her posture, smiling unashamedly. "Oh! I've got some spare stuff in my room that I'm not really using. You can take that if you'd like!"

"That's unnecessary. I don't need anything else in my room. It would only produce clutter." you say. Three's exuberance dims noticeably. Five already forced the rug on you because, in her own words, "It's square and kinda plain, so it's totally perfect for you, yeah?" and because she and Four finished their parts of the mission faster and had extra time to scavenge.

"Ah… W-well, that's not what I was gonna talk about anyways." Three says. "It's about names!"

"Names." you repeat.

"Yeah! We've been doing a great job, so I think we all deserve to at least have names, don't you?" Three proposes. You stare blankly at her.

"We?"

"Me and Six, and also Four and Five." Three answers. Everyone but you and the Commander, then. Because he isn't easily accessible and you aren't liked. You wonder which of them was the first to propose the idea.

"Why? We don't need names."

Three opens her mouth quickly before sharply cutting herself off. She waits quietly for a moment, just long enough that you start to reach for the door. "It's kinda inefficient, isn't it?"

You pause with your hand halfway towards the handle. "How? We have our production numbers. It's simple enough to address each other by those."

There's smile is as bright as always, but sharpened in a way you don't notice at the time. "Yeah, but there's plenty of other things that you call numbers. We should have more unique names. Y'know, for clarity's sake!"

"That is… a fair assessment." you admit. Distinguishing between each off you for the sake of specificity is a perfectly reasonable course. You don't have any real objections to the concept, even if you aren't especially attached to it. The only real question is if Command would allow your squad to take real names. Much of the purpose behind your creation was to ensure human lives are not lost in wars. Instead, machines can take their place and fight and die for them. The logical implication of this is obvious: your squad cannot be human if you are to remain useful. Are names a step too far?

"I will take your proposal to the Commander." you conclude. "He'll decide what to do about this."

Three moves so quickly you nearly reach for your gun on instinct, taking your hands in hers. Her smile is brighter than the fluorescent lights filling the room and more full of life. "Thanks Two! You won't regret this!"

You haven't done anything, you should say. But the way Three looks at you like you've done something special is too fragile to risk. It's nice, having somebody actually using the proper channels and delivering suggestions to the Commander through you for once.

You don't expect that respect to last, of course. It never does.

 

[Lepidoptera]

Machine Learning - Recovered Data 2 - Names II

"Is everyone here and accounted for?"

You can see that the answer is yes, but the call is more to gather attention back to the matter at hand then it is a real question. Three and Six are sitting on your bed facing you, Three smiling expectantly and rocking back and forth slightly, contrasting Six's utterly blank expression. Four stands next to them, looking around awkwardly. It's admittedly a bit cramped with five people all stuffed in your room. Across from them, Five is rifling through the books on your shelf, peeking inside, and then discarding them within arm's reach at random. You remind yourself that you have an actual job to do right now and that throttling your squadmates is detrimental to cohesion and will prevent you from presenting a united front to the Commander.

"Five, I was talking to you specifically." you clarify, glaring at the other machine. She continues to ignore you, tossing another book onto the floor.

"Introductory Mechanics, Wonders of the World, Basics of Sociology," Five reads off, still facing away from the rest of the room. Three and Six are staring disapprovingly at her now, and even Four's absent smile looks tired and brittle. "Do you have any interesting books in here?"

"Those are interesting books," you correct, "and more importantly they're all useful. But now that I have your attention, we have an important matter to discuss."

"So what is it?" Three interrupts, leaning forward and resting her head in one hand. "You don't usually call us all together like this. Is it about what we were talking about earlier?"

"That's correct. I have gathered you here to discuss the matter of our names." you confirm. The disinterested atmosphere clears immediately. You have the room's full attention, with even Five turning her attention away from your shelf and stepping closer to you. You're unsure if it's meant to be intimidating or not. Five is the tallest of the six of you, looking otherwise identical to Three but sharing none of her demeanor. The way she stares at you now is too close to the way she looks at your targets to be comfortable.

"So what did One say? Are we good to go for naming each other? Because I've got a list of ideas that -" Three asks before jumping onto a tangent. You cut her off before the conversation can veer off-track.

"I haven't spoken with the Commander yet." you say, putting some emphasis on One's title. Your role as Sub-Commander might not hold tangible authority, but his does and should be shown proper respect. For that matter your title should also be shown proper respect, but you've given up on that by now. "We are instead here to discuss that proposition so that we can present it together."

"Alright!" Three agrees immediately. A second later, she realizes something and her enthusiasm is replaced by confusion. "…why are we doing that?"

"Yeah, can't you just do it? That bureaucracy stuff is basically all you do." Five dismisses. You clench and unclench your fists, keeping your eyes away from the utter mess she made of your shelf to focus on the matter at hand.

"Five…" Four mutters, putting one hand on the taller soldier's shoulder. She doesn't even notice, occupied by her complete dismissal.

"I could, but there would be little point. We were not named for a reason, so we will need to make a strong case. First to the Commander, whose judgement will determine how our idea is presented to Command itself. I've assembled a list of key talking points that we can present as a group, displaying a united front-"

"Our idea? You were literally the last person we told!" Five interrupts. She points an accusing finger at you, to the obvious discomfort of the other soldiers. "Don't act like you're in charge of this all of a sudden!"

Your eye twitches. You'll need to check with the technicians for damage before your next mission. "I'm just making sure the proposal actually goes through. Would you have just marched up to our superiors and told them you wanted a real name?"

Nobody speaks. Four rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "We… weren't going to tell them?"

You blink. "And you didn't think that could possibly go wrong somehow? That displaying characteristics outside of our intended design wouldn't have consequences?"

Silence. Three and Four are unable to meet your stare. Five, as usual, doesn't appear to care at all and locks eyes with you without a shred of acknowledgement. You stare at each other for what feels like much too long, not saying anything, but you know is actually barely a second. Before the moment can become awkward, Six speaks up.

"I noticed."

"Thank you," you gesture to the youngest of the team, "for having some common sense. Do the rest of you think we're allowed to just do whatever we want?"

"We got away with-"

"Anyways!" Three interrupts whatever Five was about to say, desperate to get back on track. You can relate to the feeling. "Six pointed that out, so I talked to you about it, and now we're all here talking about it!"

"And soon we'll talk to the Commander about it." you finish. "But first we go over the talking points I've prepared. If everything goes well, then-"

\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\

"Sure, I'll approve it."

"-be wondering why we- wait, really?"

You stare blankly at the Commander in their office. It's barely any bigger than the other rooms, just upsized enough to fit a small desk inside without becoming cramped. It is not, however, large enough to manage the same with six people. Light trails in through the only window in all of your rooms, painting a beautiful wash of pastel hues behind the stark, metallic color of the Commander's quarters. Their body is equally colorless, everything from their uniform to their hair matching the unnatural paleness of their false skin. The only spots of color in the office are the items claimed as salvage, scattered aimlessly across the shelves or floor. There's no clear use or connection to any of them, books and children's toys and electronics and civilian weapons all given equal inattention from their new owner. The Commander sits at his desk, posture immaculate, with a placid smile on his face as he freely accepts the proposal.

"I doubt Command will object to us naming ourselves. It won't impair our effectiveness, and we were made to work as a team anyways. This could even go as far as to improve our cohesion on the field." they explain. As always, the Commander's voice is clear and light, bereft of the wavers and imperfections that mark human speech.

"See? Told ya all that planning was a waste of time." Five jeers from behind you. You refuse to turn and acknowledge her taunting.

"I'm sure Two's planned arguments would have been effective, but I have faith in all of your judgement." the Commander placates, and you cannot ignore the flicker of pride that wells up in you in response to their compliments. Their faith in your ability. You wish it would last longer, but it doesn't.

"Alright! Thanks, Commander!" Three cheers, followed by a series of similar expressions from the others. Even Five and Six both manage to say something polite. You're less surprised about Six than Five. At least they tend to talk when it's expected of them, while Five talks even when it's not. But in this instance, it doesn't really matter.

"Now," you announce, trying to pull attention from the whole room back to you, "since we are still gathered, there is one other thing we will all need to do."

"And what would that be?" Five snarks, her courtesy vanishing the moment she hears your voice.

"We need to pick names, obviously."

Five's irritation is quickly drowned out by the wave of excitement that washes out from the other three. The Commander smiles at you, and you savor that expression for a moment before turning your full attention towards your new objective. It will have exceptional importance, after all.

 

[Lepidoptera]

Machine Learning- Recovered Data 3 - Mission I

"Bracket? Are you awake?"

"Of course!"

Commander Syn removes his hand from your shoulder, having barely brushed up against your body. You refocus on the sparse, lifeless waiting room and the undecorated windowless door into the briefing room. Like the rest of the base, it's utilitarian above all else. The walls and ceiling are plain beige and the flooring is divided between a few different equally uninteresting carpet patterns depending on the room. The waiting room is denoted only by the rows of comfortable-looking chairs lining its walls and floor and the unusual number of doors connecting to it. Most of them connect to conference rooms. You have been told one of the doors on this floor connects to a cafe, but you've never seen it. The only rooms in the base's upper floor that you have ever seen in your years of service are the halls up to the waiting room, the paths out of the base, and the room on the other side of the door in front of you.

"Are you sure? You were standing in front of the door and not moving. You know, you don't need to attend these briefings with me." Syn offers. You shake your head in negative.

"No. I should be here. It's only right that I allow myself to share some responsibility with you." you affirm. Commander Syn handles most administrative work for your team. They are the one most connected with Command, the one who keeps appraised of your position with your creators. They receive the in-depth orders and appraisals, while the rest of the team is instead given a brief instruction before each mission and directed as necessary. They are the one asked to keep Command updated in the current situation during and after missions. In truth, your position under them is more ornamental than anything else. This is one of the few responsibilities you have a chance to interact with.

"As long as that's what you want." Commander Syn accepts. "Well, since we are still a little early, would you mind sharing what's got you so distracted?"

"I wasn't distracted." you protest. "I was only…"

"Only..?" Syn repeats, tilting his head towards you. A single strand of plaster-white hair falls in front of his face as he smiles earnestly down at you.

"This is going to be another extended mission, isn't it?" you ask.

"That seems to be what they're saying." Syn confirms. You say nothing in return. You don't know what to say. "Is there something wrong?"

"It's not a problem; I'll perform as necessary." you assure. Longer missions are rarer but they still happen. They tend to be either investigative or explorative in nature. Capable as you are, your team is only six people. Occupying or holding territory is better suited to large groups of lower-quality soldiers. Typically, they're more enjoyable than shorter standard missions. You've seen beautiful things on these scouting missions.

"Well, what's wrong then?" Syn continues to prod. "Come on, I know it's not nothing. If you overheard one of the technicians talking, or one of the others told you something…"

"I've already said that it's unimportant. I…" Your voice trails off and you run through a diagnostics check. All systems are functioning optimally. No damage, physical or otherwise, impairs your function. But even so, there is a persistent and illogical disturbance lingering within you. "I am feeling anxious regarding the next mission."

The Commander's expression turns pitying. "Well, if you can't pin down a reason, there's not much I can do besides promise you that I'll be careful. Does that help?"

It doesn't. The feeling doesn't go away. It sits like some sort of parasite inside your chest and clings to you, growing with every thought that you give to it.

"Yes. I feel much better now, Commander." you answer, plastering a calm smile onto your face. They must have enough to worry about without adding yourself as another burden.

"That's great to hear!" Commander Syn says, not loudly but still with energy. That, at least, manages to ease the illogical insistence that something will go wrong. "It's time to head in now."

Without further explanation, the Commander pushes open the door and you follow him into the briefing room.

The room is sparse and lifeless. Two chairs are set on one side of a foldable table opposite where the handler is sitting. The person who delivers your missions is never the same. This time, it's a short, tired woman with messy brown hair pulled into a hasty ponytail. You're not sure exactly how old she is. You were always very bad at estimating on sight, and people someways get upset if you assign them an incorrect age, so eventually you stopped trying altogether. She looks up from the overstuffed folder that she was sifting through before you entered, surprised despite your arrival being exactly at the scheduled meeting time.

"Commander. Welcome, you're just on time." the woman greets, attempting to regain control over the situation and move on from her clear lack of preparation. She glances at you for one a second and then returns her full focus to the Commander as the two of you take your seats.

"Of course. Let's get directly to the mission; we don't have any reason to waste time." Commander Syn requests. They lean slightly forward in their chair, expression polite and affable. The handler is taken aback, but quickly composes herself and acquiesces to the Commander's request.

"Of course." There's a slight tremble in their voice as they move on and the Commander leans back into their chair. "Are you aware of the Island?"

Syn laughs airily. "You're going to have to narrow it down. There are a lot of islands, you know?"

The handler straightens her stack of files, flips through them nervously, then straightens them again. "The floating Island, I mean. It's been spotted above Qilin forest several times in the past."

"I'm familiar with the location." you state. It's an extremely popular mystery landmark, mentioned at least once in almost every significant discussion of geographical or magical phenomena. "The floating Island, often simply referred to as the Island, is a magical landform with a currently unknown method of function. Records of its appearance date back hundreds of years, though its existence is theorized to be much older. It is a known zone of activity for other magical phenomena, both living and non-living." You recite the opening description in perfect, mechanical prose. The handler looks surprised, but your attention is more taken by the wide smile on the Commander's face. Before the handler can start talking, you continue. "The Island is home to populations of Mimiga, which everyone here is already aware of, the Cthulhu, which are also a known quantity, and the Gaudi, a race of insectiod creatures of human-like intelligence with a decentralized but comparably modern civilization. There have also been numerous sightings of local wildlife affected by the location's natural magic, leading to unusual growth and hostility. The more notable forms of fauna include-"

"Thank you, for that introduction, Two." the handler interrupts, still sounding rattled. Your mouth immediately snaps shut, not daring to continue speaking when silence is asked of you. Syn goes you another smile, this one so obviously putting, before returning their attention to the handler.

"The primary point of interest in the Island for us is the presence of Demon Flowers. There have been reports of them growing in the wild there. Along with the Mimiga population, it falls in line with your usual mission parameters." she says. Her voice is uneven and weathered, not at all like yours. Of course, that's because she's human and you are not. "However, due to the lack of immediate interest and need of your presence elsewhere, the Island was not a priority for your assignment until recently. Other teams were considered, but given the danger of the environment and the need for manpower they could not be wasted in this way."

"So what changed?" Commander Syn asks.

"To put it simply, other people changed. Information suggests that other factions are planning on landing forces on the Island to harvest its resources. Your team will be sent in to prevent this." the handler explains. She looks towards the Commander as she speaks, not so much as glancing towards you.

"So this is just a standard mission then? Kill them all and come back as soon as we're done?" the Commander asks. It's true, based on this description the mission doesn't appear that it would be especially long. Certainly nothing that would explain the senseless anxiety clinging to your insides.

"Not quite." the handler corrects, and you double-check your already perfect posture. "The primary goal of this mission is the same as our opponents. You'll be asked to gather important items and, more essentially, information on the Island and its mysteries. We have here a list of items and structures that may be present or related and what we need you to be looking for."

Exploration. Not just exploration, but investigation. It's not what you were made for. A mission like this is within the purview of Quote or Curly Brace, meant to be finished quickly and returned from to rejoin with the rest of the team. You aren't suited for this. Chevron and Paren are absolutely not suited for this. You can't refuse a mission, not even if it were you and not Syn who was Commander, but despite the lack of understanding you don't want to. This is an opportunity. For what you're not sure, but it is an opportunity. That you know.

But even as the woman sifts through her stack of files to show you carvings and ruins and ancient texts to keep a look out for, you cannot ignore that lingering emotion settled in your chest.

 

[Lepidoptera]

Machine Learning - Recovered Data 4 - Mission II

The trip to the Island is not fast or interesting. The morning after your briefing you and the rest of the team are gathered in a room and given a pared-down version of the briefing you and the Commander received. Which other factions are sending their soldiers, a basic rundown of the magically-affected fauna, the signs of civilization that you're looking for, but only briefly. The Commander would provide more specific direction once you're actually there, and since you sat in on the detailed briefing as well you can take command of part of the team in the case that it's necessary to split up. You and Chevron are put in charge of collecting samples, and the research team will collect recordings from you once you return to fill in the rest of the necessary information. Immediately after, you're shuffled into a plane and then off of it and into a helicopter afterwards. The helicopter interior is small and featureless and cramped when carrying six machine soldiers standing awkwardly in its passenger zone. The Commander stands at the back, smiling faintly and stock straight. Quote is opposite him, equally unmoving but his face as blank as always and eyes nearly hidden under his cap. Curly Brace stands close to Quote as usual, occasionally saying something that the other soldier answers with a nod or a single-syllable word. Paren and Chevron are huddled a short ways away in plain grey military vests. Chevron's is adorned with a wide variety of meaningless trinkets, while Paren keeps a pair of sunglasses hooked into the collar. At each of your sides is a holstered weapon. Any casual chatter died out in the first hour of travel, drowned out by the purr of the helicopter's blades. That sound accompanies your voice along the rest of the trip as you fill in the gaps that the briefing missed.

"-are known to populate the lower regions of the Island. While the Gaudi are intelligent and have their own society, they have mostly been spotted inhabiting the remains of buildings that they didn't create. It's highly likely we will have to clear out several of their colonies in the process of our exploration."

"Is it because they don't have hands and can't build things?" Chevron interrupts, which is at least a sign he's paying attention. Paren appears to be more interested in the helicopter cabin ceiling than in your information, which is unlikely to have changed since you began speaking. She has put her sunglasses on, which you imagine is not conducive to seeing anything of interest. Curly is trying, but the distinct lack of understanding in her stare tells you that you lost her sometime around discussing what opposing soldiers are being deployed against you. Quote and the Commander both sit silently in the back, keeping careful attention to each detail you add.

"It's possible, but it could also be that the Gaudi have their own civilizations deeper into the Island that have not been observed yet and simply prefer to incorporate existing artificial structures into these residences. Some sightings of them have noted weapons and armor, which would be difficult to create if they were truly incapable of manipulating tools." you explain. Despite how little information on the Island actually exists, gathered in a few ill-fated independent explorations backed by groups of interest, the Gaudi have been heavily scrutinized. Despite their species being entirely isolated to the Island, their level of technological advancement implies they have existed for a considerable time. How they reached this state and what their cultural evolution looks like is a key question that your team's exploration will hopefully answer. Judging by Chevron's blank stare and nod, he's not thinking about that part.

"Why does all this matter?" Paren adds, finally bored of staring at the ceiling. "We're just supposed to look at things, shoot them if they're alive and take them with us if they're not. It's not our job to pick apart the who and why of it all."

"Wasn't that part important, though? We're going to be investigating these places, so it matters if there's gonna be people there!" Curly defends, only to immediately ruin it by adding "Even if we didn't really need to know about the debates about how old different buildings were. That's definitely the kind of thing the team back at base should be handling."

"We can't expect to gather useful information if we don't know what to look for." you insist. Besides, history is interesting and there's nothing else productive to be done right now. "But if you'd prefer, I can skip to the parts that I assume will be more interesting for you."

"I didn't know there were interesting parts." Paren dismisses. You glare at her, but she doesn't meet your gaze.

"Would you consider an unknown magical artefact of potentially immense power to be an interesting part?" you state flatly. If this is what it's going to take to keep attention on what's important, then you'll skip to the more obviously engaging parts and circle back to the rest. It works perfectly. Chevron and Curly lean forwards while Paren removes her sunglasses and hooks them back into her collar.

"Command already mentioned that we should try and receive something called that. Is there more?" Chevron asks.

"Yes, actually. The Demon Crown is mentioned in some old texts and legends within Mimiga society as an object of power held by a historic ruler." you explain. "Records are contradictory on the nature of this leader, but the Demon Crown itself is always given focus as a powerful magical item which have the bearer their power."

Commander Syn tilts their head to one side. "That's curious. How did you learn this, Bracket?"

"The records are publicly available, and those that aren't are within our clearance. We were even responsible for retrieving some of this information." you say. Mimiga aren't developed enough to have digital records, but they still keep written records and oral traditions. The cleanup teams that move in after your own have collected a lot of history in them.

"Maybe I should read through our records some time." Curly says. "Do the Mimiga have a lot of magic items? I've never seen one before."

"None unique to them. Many Mimiga stories have been attached to known magical phenomena, and others are believed to be completely fabricated. The Demon Crown is too consistent between colonies to not have a common origin, though, and we know that the Island contains an old Mimiga colony. People have drawn connections between the crown and the Island's magical phenomena."

"So is it gonna be a problem for us? What sort of magic powers are we talking about here?" Paren asks, pointing her sunglasses at you.

"We can deal with that when we arrive."

It's only speculation anyways. You don't think it'll actually matter much in the end.

 

[Lepidoptera]

Machine Learning - Recovered Data 5 - Mission III

Halfway through the planned route across the Island, you arrive at the Labyrinth Exterior with Quote and Curly Brace. It's only early afternoon, but the Island's position far above the earth makes it seem more like dusk. The hardened dirt and stone is bleached hues ranging from dull tan to heavy amber orange. It fades into plain dirt off behind you before the tree line starts, and cuts off abruptly not too far in the distance where the Island's edge is. Beyond that is the sky, as bright as fire and filled with paint-splattered clouds lit by the pure white disk of light that is the setting sun. Your path winds up the Island's edge, tracing across the mountainside's short incline. The ground here is mostly flat, only gradually working its way up to the geometric structure not far in the distance. It's a view that would normally be impossible, the sun's full shape blocked by the horizon. But now the horizon is so very far away from the ground, and only sky extends in every direction.

"Bracket? You've been staring into space for a while now. Can we keep going now?"

The sound of Curly's voice drags your attention back to the matter at hand. "Of course. I've just finished surveilling the area and there are no outstanding threats."

"Riiight, and I'm sure you weren't doing anything other than 'surveilling the area'. That sunset looks pretty threatening, you know." You don't appreciate the smug look she's giving you.

"We have already encountered hostile aerial wildlife on the Island. You should be ready for danger to approach from any direction." you assert. And you do mean any direction. After being attacked by birds, bats, oversized fungi, and crocodiles living in sand pits and jumping out at anything that walks over them, you refuse to be surprised by whatever else lives here.

"Riiiight. Well, since the coast is clear, we should get moving, shouldn't we?" Curly says, grinning and pointing towards the target location with her machine gun. Behind her, Quote wears a similar smile.

You refuse to dignify that with a response, instead slowly creeping down the incline. The dirt underneath your feet it packet sturdily, but the weight of tonnes of metal might be enough to displace any unfortunately loose chunks. The Island's edge isn't immediately near, but you would rather not take your chances with footing here. A fall from all the way up here down to the surface would be unavoidably fatal.

More relevantly, the edge of the Island is what you're moving towards. Right at the cliff's border, where ground abruptly gives way to an endless sky, there's a small protrusion of rock unlike its surroundings. It's a similar colour, shaded slightly lighter than the dirt surrounding it, but what draws your attention is the shape. Its edges are clean and geometric, rough but still clearly carved by unnatural hands. From the distance you can even spot what looks like engravings of some sort.

Your arm shoots up, hand gesturing for silence. The sounds of Curly and Quote following behind you abruptly stop. Their smiles vanish, uncertain as to the reason for your order but still on guard. Slowly, you begin to move forward towards the rock and indicate for them to advance with you.

That rock is part of an artificial structure. Not one made by another invading force, who wouldn't have used such primitive materials and techniques or have wasted time with engravings, but by someone native to the Island. It might just be ruins. There are enough abandoned structures lying around the Island that their presence can be assumed over that of inhabited buildings.

This area is different though. Whatever building is nearby could merely be another uninhabited ruin. That is the most likely answer in this case, as it has been before. It would be, were it not for the absence of any other hostile forces established here. There are no lesser machines clogging the space. No temporary encampments have been found anywhere near here. An area like this wouldn't be left uncontested, not when the Island surface is so important to control. That means either your group is the first to reach here, or it's already been occupied.

You pause while Quote and Curly slowly move up to join with you. Quote steps a short distance ahead of you and Curly, pausing when he sees the same rock you identified and looking to you. You nod and confirm the unspoken question: there's something there worth being careful of.

You might be machines, but none of you are replaceable.

The three of you creep towards the Island's edge, the wind feeling almost malicious in the way it whips against you. Like it knows how precarious your position is, like it understands what awaits you if you were to fall off the edge. You shove these feelings away, illogical and unhelpful as they are, but they refuse to disappear.

The distracting prickle of anxiety persists even as your group likes up around the Island's edge and peers down. Sure enough, a large cavity opens in the side of the Island just below. Its edges are clean and flat, far too structured to have been made by nature. This is, without a doubt, man-made.

Before you can give an order, Curly leaps down and swings back around the ledge and into the cavern below. Quote follows just as quickly, leaving you to jump in after in a hurry. The wind whistles past your momentarily weightless body and you heft your machine gun, ready to adjust your course midair if necessary. For a single moment, with only one hand anchoring you to the Island's outermost border, you are a part of that beautiful sky you saw earlier. Then you pull yourself back towards the earth and into the cavern.

The shooting has already started. You barely have time to take in the intricate designs carved into the walls and ceiling and floor, the amber-hues bricks glued together by an odd pale mesh barely visible between each block in the wide cavern. Curly and Quote and each pressed themselves up against a protruding support pillar, peering out just long enough to fire at the creatures at the other end of the hall.

You raise your gun and fire at the Gaudi warriors standing across from you. They look just like the reports showed, but images don't capture the little details of a living thing. Each one is taller than an ordinary man, slightly under two meters in height. They would be taller were their bodies not hunched as they are, their segmented and chitin-plated limbs doubled over and bent low. Every step they take is a skittering mess of motion, carrying their rounded and bulbous bodies with unnatural quickness. Conventional logic dictates that an insect's body should not function as efficiently when scaled up to human size, but magical creatures have never cared for conventional logic. What draws your eye more closely is the bright blue armor plating their backs and around their chests, its segmented plate mimicking the creatures' natural carapace. In each of their sharp, blade-like limbs is a shining metal item that curves and curls like an extension of the arm. It only takes a single twitch to send it flying through the air, missing you as you rush from one cover to the next and scoring a chunk out of the ground. There's something beautiful about the utter inhumanity of their design. These are creatures whose existence is nothing at all like a human's, but they have been able to reach similar heights regardless. There is so much to learn from studying them, if there was ever a chance for such a thing.

All that is little match for three advanced machine soldiers and humanity's finest weapons of war. In less than a minute, eight Gaudi corpses lie on the floor and there are fewer than that many scratches between you, Curly, and Quote.

Before your fellow soldiers can progress further into the structure, you catch them by the collar and drag them back. "What were you two thinking?"

The two at least look ashamed, refusing to meet your eyes and smiling sheepishly. "It worked, didn't it? It's not like we've fought anything that actually needed us to be cautious so far." Curly protests. It must sound as weak to her as it does to you with how she shies away as she speaks.

"We have had the Commander with us in all major engagements with intelligent opposition." you remind her and Quote. Their direction, not to mention their assistance in combat, makes an immense difference. With only the three of you, you cannot afford slipping in your scrutiny.

"Yeah, but we were fighting real armies back there! There are just-" Curly kicks one of the dead Gaudi to emphasize her point, "-leftovers! Somebody's obviously been through here before us?"

The proposition is sudden and worrying enough to force you to step back. "What makes you think that?" For as overeager as she can be at times, Curly's judgement is sound. She wouldn't make such a claim wildly.

"Look around!" Curly says, indicating to points around the room one by one. "Those posts near the sides of the back were unoccupied. The walls were already damaged when we got in, and some of those blocks have fallen out of the ceiling. They must have ended up short-staffed after losing some members to whoever did the damage."

That makes a worrying amount of sense. Still, it raises the question of who the Gaudi were fighting. The scuffs on the walls Curly pointed out don't look like they were caused by any weapons you know of, and some of the displaced blocks are large enough to crush you. Who- no, what could have done this?

"And did you not consider that whoever did this might still be present? How would you have confronted that?"

"I guess it's possible…" Curly admits. "But I doubt it. If there was still a fight going on, these people wouldn't be out here waiting for other attackers to show up."

"That's possible. But they could have been left here to prevent reinforcements from joining the attackers." you point out. Curly just shrugs.

"Maybe. I don't hear any fighting up ahead, though." she says.

"That's-" you pause, taking a deep breath. "This is pointless. Just be more careful in the future. You aren't invincible."

"Of course!" Curly assures you, as cheerful as ever. Her free hand rises up in a mock salute to you for a moment before she turns away and starts towards the tunnels leading deeper into the structure. "Have a little faith, though. We know what we're doing."

Quote rests a hand on your shoulder and gives you a small, soft smile before following Curly. You check your machine gun's reserves and trail after them. For some reason, the lump of fear in your chest only grows.

 

[Lepidoptera]

Machine Learning - Recovered Data 6 - Indecision

The village had been impressive when your team arrived. Even knowing that it was relatively small and undeveloped by modern standards, the simple wood and clay walls and thatched roofs came together to make something more. They filled the space of the valley, crowding around the edges against the pair of hills that enclosed it and stretching down to follow the stream that ran down its length. At one end of the valley, a small waterfall connected the river to the larger stream above. Buildings rose up larger close to the waterfall, still the same simple wood and earth. Short rock walls cut the settlement into layers extending out from that end of the valley, each one less occupied than the last. By the sixth division, there were only a scant few houses overlooking a wide stretch of farmland. A mix of grains, trees, and some sort of fruit-bearing vines all mingled in a delicate pattern over the field, forming blocks of color. Mimiga wandered the loosely-paved streets without a care.

Now, everything is ashes and ruins. The low evening sun burns just barely above the valley's edge, its harsh orange glow mirrored in the spreading fire that rises with every moment. Embers float through the streets and fields like fireflies. The air is filled with the sound of crackling fire and the groaning of burning wood caving in. Black smoke chokes the streets and curls around unmoving bodies. The fields behind you are a sea of ashes long since burned through. If you listen carefully, you think you can still hear Paren's cheering and cackling drifting over the scorched farmland.

She and Curly had struck directly, starting at the valley's unpopulated end, while you, Quote, and the Commander all snuck deeper into the colony to break up any potential response and search for any Demon Flowers. Chevron was stationed along one edge of the valley as a spotter. The plan went off flawlessly, with some small exceptions.

Everything was not supposed to be on fire, for one. Burning the Red Flowers here would be a disaster. The smoke is still potent enough to turn Mimiga who inhale it, if slowly. A colony of this size all turning rabid at once would be a disaster. You had killed the third rabid Mimiga spotted on-site minutes ago, so there were Red Flowers here. That too had not been part of the plan, but all three had been encountered alone and dispatched by whoever found them without issue. Not an issue of any consequence. What's more problematic is how it's limited your searching prospects. There are Red Flowers here; suspicion of such a thing is why your team was sent, and now it's been confirmed. But with the whole colony in flames, actually finding the flowers has become exponentially more difficult. Three doses may have been all they had, but if there were any more it would be reckless to keep searching for them through burning buildings. You'll have to comb through the ashes once the fire dies down. One way or another, the mission will still be accomplished. Again, not an issue of any consequence.

No, the issue is Chevron. Specifically, the fact that Chevron is standing in the town square just a block ahead of you. The fire has already churned through this part of the colony, leaving behind the smoldering skeletons of buildings standing as a forest of blackened scaffolding around the circle of rough cobbled streets. Bodies litter the square. The dead Mimiga are splotches of white against the burnt-out ground. Many of them are stained black, soot clinging to fur in sickly patches. Your attention slides over the scene and the bodies alike, unable to settle on anything other than your fellow soldier.

Chevron would look out of place standing here even if you didn't know where they are supposed to be. With their hair tied back in a loose ponytail and a plain grey jacket adorned with stickers and pins of all kinds, they don't look fit for a war zone. You know this impression, at least, to be false. Chevron is still one of you, and you are all killers. Even as the least physically able model, his aim is better than any of the rest of you except Commander Syn. No human could ever hope to match the flawless aim of a machine, but Chevron takes that a step further than the rest of you. It's why he was supposed to be positioned above the valley colony where he could freely target any fleeing Mimiga and keep the battlefield locked down. There is no good reason for him to be here, staring blankly at one of the dead bodies with his gun not in his hands.

The crunch of your feet over burnt timbers announces your presence. Chevron turns slowly, far too slowly, towards the sound. What would he have done if it had been a Mimiga instead of you? Drawing and firing still takes time even for a machine and Mimiga can move fast when they want to. Even when they're wounded.

"You're too unaware of your surroundings, Chevron." you chide. "What if I had been somebody attacking you? Such a slow reaction wouldn't be able to protect you."

"But you'd never try something like that, Bracket." Chevron says in reply. Completely missing what your actual point was. You catch the ghost of some other expression vanishing under a carefree smile as he turns towards you.

"You couldn't have known it was me." you point out. "A Mimiga could have killed you, being so inattentive."

"Ah, but I've got all of you looking out for me!" Chevron cheers, still completely missing the point. His weapon is still holstered, not in his hands.

"You do not." The words feel too heavy on your lips, but they need to be said. "You were not supposed to be here. None of us knew to expect your presence. It was chance alone that I found you." Chevron looks away from you, smile dimming. You dismiss the guilt that wells up inside you. Chevron has to learn these things. He should already know them by now in the first place. "And on that note, what are you doing here? You were supposed to stay at the cliffside."

"Well, Paren wasn't supposed to set the colony on fire, so plans clearly should've been adjusted." Chevron says. There's not a trace of accusation in his voice, just observation. As if it isn't Paren's explicit fault that everything caught fire.

Later, you'll look back on memories like this with fondness. Of when Chevron didn't fold to the slightest critique. His arguments were never well-reasoned or convincing, but the complete lack of pushback will never not feel wrong no matter if it's more efficient or not.

"This isn't about what Paren did, but I'm sure the Chief Engineer will have words with her after this." you say. Not that anything will come of it. Paren has always been like this, and burning down a settlement that was going to be destroyed anyways is hardly a step too far. Unless she becomes an actual liability, nobody will step in. "This is about your safety. What made you believe this was a good idea?"

You keep your voice level through effort alone. Chevron doesn't have to do the same. The feeble diversion he offers doesn't carry even a hint of irritation. "Shouldn't you be looking for the Red Flowers right now?"

"There's no point while the colony is burning like this. Either the flowers will burn, or the villagers have already used all the doses they had. If anything remains once the fire has died out, we'll find it. But as long as none of the Mimiga manage to escape the valley, there won't be an issue. And if you had stayed in position, we would have that under control as well." you explain. Chevron's posture worsens as your explanation drones on, like he's trying to hide behind something that isn't there. It's only once you finish that he snaps back up to his full height.

"Well…" Chevron rakes his fingers through his hair nervously. "I won't do it again? I was just…"

An emotion you can't place flickers across Chevron's face, but it's gone as quickly as it appears.

"Don't." you insist, shaking your head in disapproval. You fully expect Chevron to break his promise. It's just the way things go. It's really only the Commander and Quote who follow instructions more than half the time. For now, you simply have to correct course on this operation. "There's no time for you to get back in position. We'll split up and try to clear out more of the survivors."

Even you can't miss Chevron wince when you mention survivors. "Do we…"

"Yes," you say in anticipation to Chevron's question. The next words turn out heavier than you had wanted. A cold, lifeless weight that settles in your mouth as you speak. "It's necessary. We have our orders."

"Is that-"

Whatever protests Chevron has are drowned out. One of the fallen Mimiga, body stained black and red with soot and blood and missing patches of fur that were burned away, moves. It's barely more than a twitch. Just moving their arm and pushing themself up off the ground ever so slightly. The motion is slow and clumsy, like their body is being controlled by an inexperienced puppeteer. They're so, so close to Chevron, enough that if they could reach out they could touch him. But they cannot reach out. Not with the few embers of strength that remain in their charred body. They raise their head, fur matted with blood and soot, and Chevron meets the dying Mimiga's gaze.

You can't see either of their faces. Chevron's normally-relaxed body is wrought with tension. Not the tension of a battle, wound back like a coiled spring ready for motion. Not your own tension, ever-present and waiting to be called to act. Just… strain. Weight.

You take a careful step forwards.

The fallen Mimiga stops moving. You lower your gun, which had been trained on their head the entire time. Not quickly, and not in time to prevent Chevron from seeing. When they look at you, you can already hear the question that follows.

"Why?"

It's barely a question at all. You answer it regardless.

"They're the enemy. If we don't kill them, they aren't just going to let all this go. From the moment we began the mission, it was either us or them." you say. You take another step closer to Chevron. A human would be expected to fill those words with passion. A soldier might be asked the same. But a machine is free to hold only apathy. Not regret, but the two sound similar enough.

"And why are we here in the first place? Because these people are dangerous?" Chevron continues. This time, it's not a question. It's an accusation. That weight you had seen has coiled into readiness, but there is nothing for Chevron to do. Only waiting.

"Enough." you command. Some of your own tension leaks into the word, and Chevron flinches. You step back instinctively. You hadn't realized how close you'd gotten.

"…just search in that direction," you say, pointing a stiff arm in the direction you know will be covered last by the others. "and I'll continue my planned route. Confirm your kills next time. We don't want surprises."

Without looking to see what Chevron does, you start walking with your gun in hand.

Sometimes, the fighting and killing is easier.

\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\

Chevron's Insubordination
Nobody else saw what you did. It's up to you to decide who has to know.
[] Nobody.
It's not important anyways.
[] Commander Syn
At least they deserve to know.
[] The Chief Engineer
They might actually do something about it.

 

[Lepidoptera]

Machine Learning - Recovered Data 7 - Influence I

The division is a familiar one. You, Quote, and Curly in one team, and the Commander, Paren, and Chevron in the other. Syn is better at wrangling the pair than you are, unsurprisingly. They're better than you at everything, but Paren and Chevron in particular need careful supervision. That's mostly Paren's fault. Not that Chevron doesn't require supervision, but their mistakes are typically less destructive than Paren's. Chevron sets significantly fewer things on fire than Paren does. Something in you suggests that it should really be the other way around. Paren might be more dangerous to the surroundings, but Chevron puts themself in danger far more often. How much does collateral damage really matter when you're never deployed near anybody you aren't expected to shoot?

…maybe that's why you've never been deployed near anybody Command sees as worth keeping alive. Collateral damage. You don't think of your team as destructive, they're really not, but you suppose you also don't have enough points of comparison to back up such a statement. You'll have to ask the Chief Engineer later. She might be able to pass on some information that Command hasn't been sharing about your performances.

That's all for later. The present task if a much simpler one. Clear out the Mimiga colony in the adjacent cave while the other team sweeps the surroundings for stragglers and destroys the support structures built up nearby. To you, it feels like a waste of effort. This colony is small and undeveloped, with only indirect access to Demon Flowers. An ordinary clearing team would have been enough to remove the colony.

Regardless, you will not be complacent and treat this mission as any lesser than you would something dangerous.

The mouth of the cave is wide and low, just enough to force you to crouch to enter. Around you, the hillside is brushed against by a thin cover of trees. If anyone knew you were coming, it would be an excellent defensible position. The cave system beyond it is unknown. Even if you don't expect the colony itself to be any trouble, it's still worth approaching carefully.

Clearly, Quote and Curly do not agree with you. You watch Curly, without even trying to hide it, directly in front of you, completely unashamedly, lean down to crawl into the cave. Quote says nothing as usual but stands behind her, waiting to follow.

"Stop."

Curly pops back up, smiling with zero trace of guilt. "What? This is the cave, right? We've gotta go in eventually!"

"Yes, but we're supposed to signal Command that we are in position and wait for Commander Syn's team to be ready as well before we move in." you say. Curly looks like she doesn't even hear you. Quote nods slowly, but their eyes are distant.

"Then go and call it in!" Curly says like she hasn't done anything wrong. You scowl but don't waste time chastising her.

Contacting Command will never feel normal. Even after experiencing it all throughout your existence, the faint electrical buzz under your skull remains an irritant. But only just an irritant, never anything more. "This is Bracket. The secondary team has reached the Mimiga colony and is ready to enter."

"Confirmed. Wait for confirmation before proceeding."

You nod, not that anyone in Command can see it. When your attention returns to the moment, you see Curly and Quote lined up at the mouth of the cave again.

"Really?" This time, your exhaustion comes through clear in your voice. Did they not just hear your orders?

Curly rolls her eyes. "You told Command where we are, right? So it should be fine if we head in now?"

"We're supposed to wait for permission to enter." you remind her. You were being rhetorical earlier, but did she actually not hear the orders you were given?

"It's empty." Quote reports, having apparently seen into the cave entrance during his bout of insubordination. "I saw something set up inside, but no people."

That's good for the mission, then. You hadn't expected the entrance to be manned, but it would have been difficult to attack if it was. Like you noted earlier, it's a good defensible position. Neither you nor Quote nor Curly have any explosives on you, so the easy route for dealing with buried opponents isn't available, and-

None of that's immediately relevant, though, is it? "We still have orders. Wait for clearance to begin the assault itself."

"But why, though?" Curly asks. Her voice is less harsh, more genuine than Paren's is when asking that question. More curious, less driven than Chevron was when they still asked you that question. All in all, you aren't as reluctant as you could be to answer.

"The plan of attack that Command has laid out requires both groups to attack simultaneously, eliminating any possibility of stragglers, escapees, or reinforcements from other parts of the colony. They'll notify us when the Commander and their team are ready, then we can move." you explain.

"But do we really have to line things up perfectly, though?" Curly asks again. "It's a ten or twenty minute walk from here to the other target locations. What are the chances somebody gets past us, then all the way to another part of the colony to get help before Syn, Paren, and Chevron start their half? It's never gonna happen."

Curly isn't wrong, but orders are orders. Even if it's unlikely that such a thing could happen, it is still a chance. "We can afford to be patient. We aren't limited by the same failings of human soldiers; we can take as much time is necessary to find the greatest possible likelihood of victory. There is no good reason for us to hurry to completion when caution is an option."

You are soldiers above all. What else would you really do with your time?

Despite the cold in your words, Curly answers. She's quieter than you're used to. Not actually quiet, but subdued. Tired. It sounds wrong from her.

"Maybe I want to get it over with as soon as possible."

Quote silently steps forward and lays a hand on Curly's shoulder. You don't know what to do. But you have to do something. After Syn, you are in command of the team. They're your responsibility.

So you have to do something.

 

[Lepidoptera]

Machine Learning - Recovered Data 8 - Influence II

If it were up to you, maybe you'd command differently. You don't disagree with Curly in her overall assessment of the mission. She's too flippant about it, but it's true that this is beneath your team's level. That's no reason to let you guard down, but all this meticulous planning is unnecessary. If the only factor to consider was the colony you're here to eliminate, you would see no reason not to enter the cave right away.

But you aren't in charge here. Not really. Command has already given their orders, and there would be consequences were you found to have disobeyed. There is no place for insubordinate soldiers. Your options are to disobey Command's instructions and hope that assuages Curly's anxiety, or to do nothing. It's not much of a choice. If just Curly and Quote went on ahead… no, that would be pointless. What would it really achieve for them to go on ahead early? To finish the mission early? You would still have to wait for Syn and the others.

"We have our orders. Stay and wait for the all-clear to move in." you decide. Curly grumbles, but Quote rests a hand on her arm and she stops there.

"You know this is stupid, though." she points out.

"It is an unnecessary step, yes." you admit. You aren't going to call one of Command's decisions stupid, just… suboptimal. Not properly informed of the situation. Lacking the perspective of somebody in the present moment.

"It is." Quote adds, concluding the matter. Command's ruling is flawed.

You will have to follow it anyways, though.



The three of you stand at the mouth of the cave, waiting. Curly glares at the rocks. The rocks do not respond. Nobody is happy with this.


Something in the treeline moves. You, Quote, and Curly all snap to attention, scanning the underbrush for any sign of the intrusion on your watch. A bush rustles. The leaves sway in the wind. Motion-

A rabbit hops away from its hiding place in the forest, three bullet holes punched into the tree just above it.

You all holster your weapons without looking at one another. This shouldn't be this difficult. You're just waiting for time to pass.



"Um." Curly starts. She doesn't elaborate or say what she was going to say. Neither you nor Quote ask any further about it. You just stand there awkwardly.

Why is this so difficult?


The sun lowers in the sky.


"Syn's team is in position. You are clear to proceed."

Finally, you are relieved. "The Commander is ready. We move in now." you relay to the others. Without a word, you duck into the cave.

Time to get this over with.

\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\-\

The inside of the cave colony is disappointing. After all that trouble waiting to enter, it appears almost entirely empty. The mouth of the cave was built with defense in mind, but past that is an open, high-roofed cavern. Pitch torches are rammed into the ground and walls, some extinguished and some left burning. The centre of the open area holds a thin underground river. Small fire pits with pots hanging over them are set up along the riverside. Twelve large tents fill the walls, packed so tightly as to leave no space between. Closer to the entrance, the walls have been carved away to form shelves filled with harvested plants and various jarred items.

A lone Mimiga sits at one of the fire pits next to a pot leaking steam into the cave air. The smell of hot food mingles with the salt-and-mineral scent of the underground. They haven't noticed the three of you enter the colony, too focused on preparing their meal.

A silent question passes between you. One of you will have to raise your gun and fire. You weren't instructed to take prisoners. Curly's hands are shaking. Quote's own are frozen just above their holster, not wanting to go any further. But somebody has to go through with it.

You've put them through enough trouble already. With a blank expression, you aim and fire. There is a split second, a flash of a moment, where they realise something has happened. Then nothing at all.

You…

"If there are any others here, they'll have heard the shot. There's not much room to hide here, and this is the only exit." you relay. You don't think about the body in the middle of the cavern. You can't afford that kind of distraction when in unsafe territory.

You spread out. The camp is empty. The tents have nothing more than crude weapons. Handmade bows and stone swords at best. A single rifle without ammo fabrication and one half-empty magazine hang on the wall of one tent, covered in a thin layer of dust.

The colony's decor does strike you as odd. The tents are respectable but simple. They have beds and sheets, both clearly made by hand and not manufactured. The primitive weapons are understandable. Anything better would have required a level of industry that they clearly don't have access to. The gun is an extremely old model; firearms of this make without ammo fabrication simply aren't produced anymore. They're too dangerous for public sale, and any military deployment won't want to lose out of the advantage of not having to worry about an ammunition supply. An old rifle like this would have either been salvaged or stolen some time ago. All of that makes sense.

Quote stands over the still-boiling pot and removes the lid. He looks inside, ignoring the flush of steam that curls around the surface of his artificial skin.

"Potato soup." he reports, voice strained. Curly gives him a thumbs-up but doesn't loom his way. You nod in acknowledgment.

A metal pot. The jars they're keeping their medicine in on the shelves. Pens and books and paper in every tent. And, in the smallest tent, a portable generator hooked up to a terminal. Sifting through it reveals spreadsheets tracking food and medicine stockpiles and graphs of crop growth going back three years. It doesn't appear to be able to send or receive messages.

It's suspicious for all of this to be here. It could be stolen. It would have had to have been stolen a long time ago, though. There aren't any other civilizations nearby that aren't just more Mimiga colonies, and those don't have the industrial capabilities to produce such items either. It doesn't seem right though. There are no signs that any of these things ever had previous owners.

None of that should matter to you. What's important is that there are no Red Flowers here. Not even a trace. This was all a waste.

"There's nothing here." you announce after an hour of searching. "We report back to Command and then rejoin with Commander Syn's team."

Quote and Curly follow you out of the cave without a word. They were talking when you made your approach. Chattering about something unimportant while you actually figured out where you were supposed to be. But it was better than the silence.

You are starting to hate the quiet.

 

[Lepidoptera]

Machine Learning - Recovered Data 9 - Influence III

This mission was a horrible waste. That's all you can think about right now. Nothing of value was accomplished, time was wasted, and lives have been lost. The majority of the colony may not have been in their homes, but Commander Syn and the others will have found them by the day's end. There will be no loose ends left over.

…"Loose ends". What a disgusting way to think about people. But that's how it is. If you left survivors, you'd only be sent after them later.

The trek to the rendezvous point with the other half of your team is going slowly. Aside from the forest being thick enough to make traversal harder, nobody is in any hurry to get there. It strikes you as strange, how suddenly they're dragging their feet when before Curly had been eager to get this over with and Quote had been fully behind her. If anything, now is the best time to hurry up. There's nothing left to do but leave.

"…We…" you begin. Nothing you could say feels adequate. Your voice trails off.

You should prepare to summarize your findings to report to Syn. There isn't much to say.

Rather, you're not sure what to say. What was Command expecting sending you here? What do they care about, and what's just irrelevant noise? There were no military objectives there. Just outdated equipment and roughly-constructed housing. You can't help but wonder what it must have been like for the Mimiga to live there. Was it different to life back at the base? Their tents have more things in them than your room does. Of course, their things aren't all salvaged. They could have just… or maybe they are? You're not sure where else these Mimiga would have found the items they were keeping. There isn't anywhere nearby to buy them from. They had some handmade toys, but you still don't have a clean explanation for the more developed items you found.

A part of you recalls that Chevron might have liked it if you took some of those toys with you for him. Another part is disgusted at the thought. And the disgust grows deeper when you still can't stop considering the idea.

Curly interrupts that chain of thought before it can degrade any further. "We should lodge a complaint!"

Her sudden exclamation startles you and you ram your foot directly into a large root, nearly sending you sprawling. "A complaint? To who?"

"Command, of course!" Curly says, indignant. "They gave us bad information! This whole mission was a mistake!"

"We shouldn't have been here." Quote agrees. His voice is quiet but steady and confident.

"We don't have the authority to make such a judgement." you remind them. Command doesn't listen to input from mere soldiers when deciding where to send you.

Curly doesn't understand it. "I know we don't, that's why we need to think of what to say! We've gotta get Syn to understand what happened, and they'll sort things out with Command!"

She sounds so sure of herself. But of course she does. Nobody but you bothers to sit in on Syn's talks with Command. You know full well that there is no space for complaints or protests regarding your assignments. Syn never speaks of it otherwise. Internal politics have never been interesting to anyone but you and them. Quote just nods along, Curly and Chevron try but never understand, and Paren always makes her utter boredom at the idea clear.

"We can make a statement to the Commander which they can convey to Command during the mission report." you accept. That should be enough for Curly and Quote to be satisfied.

"Good!" Curly says. Quote nods from behind her. "This better not happen again! We're soldiers, we're supposed to be fighting battles, not… this!"

"We're supposed to do what we are ordered to." you recall. You follow instructions like anyone else, and in exchange you exist. It's not a terrible existence, all things considered. You and your team are rarely at genuine risk in combat, and you are allowed to bring things back to base for entertainment. The Chief Engineer even brings you books when you ask her. All you have to do is follow orders, no matter how horrible they are.

"Not when our orders are bad! You and I both know this wasn't worth our time!"

"Is that your only objection?" you ask harshly. You're not sure why. This discussion isn't going to go anywhere, driving it further won't help get it over with.

"It-!" Curly cuts herself off, looking away from you and grumbling. "I guess it is. I just think we could be doing other things right now."

It's not. It's not the only reason.

"Then we'll need to compose a proper report to reflect that. It's still possible that Syn's team found more resistance." you recite. Somehow, you find yourself hoping for it. "We found one noncombatant within the location-"

"Girl. They were a girl." Quote interrupts. Command won't care about that, you want to say, but the look in his eyes tells you it's not a fight you'll be winning.

"-who was eliminated without incident. A full search of the location found no traces of the Red Flowers in intact or remnant form. Furthermore, the location was underdeveloped compared to usual targets; mounting an effective defense would have been impossible even if enemy presence had been heavier. They were in possession of only extremely rudimentary weapons and posed no threat whatsoever." you summarize. It's not as informational as you prefer with your reports, but there's not a lot to actually say. Your only goal is to make a point. "How is that?"

"I guess that works?" Curly says. She doesn't sound as enthusiastic as she did just a moment ago.

"Isn't this what you wanted? An official complaint?" you ask.

"That's not really a complaint." Curly points out. "It's just report with some backhanded implications."

"It's the closest thing to a complaint we are allowed to file." you answer. For some reason, Curly laughs. There's no joy in it.

"Hah! That's true, isn't it? We'd better hurry up and meet with the other team. With how easy our objective was, it'd be embarrassing if we got to the meeting point second!"

And with that, she picks up her pace and walks ahead of you. You don't understand at all.

Quote smiles at you, and you feel a little better. The mission will be over soon, and then you won't have to think about this anymore.

But you will.

You can't just forget.