Good Knight Sweet Droid

### 30/3/2019, The Big Base

The Big Base is quiet, dust filtering lazily through the skylights beams of bright morning sun. Most of the usual faces seen at the base are absent, off on missions to aid the community after the events involving the giant tree sprouting in the harbour. After the chaos involving the fall of Zodiac city, looting and minor crimes call the heroes away.

In the workshop, a curtain cordons off a corner of the room, contents within obscured by the thick cloth for the sake of privacy.

A solitary figure sits in what remains of the recreation room, pouring over a table full of maps, newspaper clippings and handwritten notes. Profiles on various people surround the collection, but none of the red strings - she had seen it on a show - actually lead anywhere.

It shouldn’t have been hard to find a group of medieval knights in a modern city. Hell, Lancelot herself had experienced how much they stood out… but these knights had lived here for over a decade, not just months, not to mention that the current chaos effectively made it impossible to find anyone at all.

She wouldn’t be looking, really, not yet, except that she needed something to do during her breaks from the relief efforts, and shouldn’t she be part of them now that she was a knight? It was only proper.

Elle sighs, and grabs for her mug, only to realize that it is empty. She looks in the direction of the kitchen, and her eyes fall on the door to the workshop, slightly ajar.

The door creaks as it is pushed open, followed by the sound of the curtains being pulled.

Through the damaged audio sensors, the pull of the curtain comes out as a hollow and slightly graining noise. Olivia’s eyes focus on the figure walking in. She sees Elle and her burned fan whirrs to life quietly, not loud enough for anyone to hear unless they pressed their head directly to her chest.

The static shifts and stirs while her body sits still on the table.

*Ah, it’s you. When was the last time I spoke with you? How’ve you been? It’s been awhile since I made that promise after all...*

The voice processed refuses to echo out loud, any reaction to Elle’s visit shown as a slight slump  against the brace holding up her damaged left arm. Upon falling, the monitor next to the repair tools and wires boots up to life, displaying a string of codes and commands. Errors pop up on every other line.

Quietly, the knight’s gaze drifts over the robotic body, their eyes sad and weary. They run a hand along a damaged section, as if trying to determine whether they can - no, there’s nothing they can do.

“We lost so much…” They turn, their back to the wall now, and lean backwards, letting the building bear the weight on their shoulders for a minute. “I am used to casualties. I’ve lost friends to war, even lovers, but…” She shakes her head. “You, and Rhiannon… It isn’t so clear-cut. A body, the flesh, it is either alive or dead - well, vampires and other exceptions aside - but how can I tell whether you are alive, Olivia? I must assume there’s a reason you’re kept here and not buried, but perhaps everyone is just hopeful and afraid to let go.”

Her eyes drift to the screen, unable to make sense of the code. Instead she moves back to the side of the table and kneels, summoning a sword in her lap.

They close their eyes and pray.

“O Christ our Lord, who art the Physician of salvation, grant unto she who is sick the aid of heavenly healing. Though her body be not flesh, her soul is as divine and as deserving as any who walk beneath Thy light. Look upon her and take her soul into Thy keeping, and vouchsafe to deliver it from all sickness and infirmity… Amen.”

Perhaps it’s the prayer, perhaps it’s the question that sparks another attempt to reach out. She is alive… right?

*I am alive! It seems like I can’t move right now but it’s not too late. Please don’t give up and bury me like the others. Let me try something- anything - and you’ll see.*

The image crackles and wavers as Olivia attempts to focus displaying a message through the monitor. A sputter comes from one of the fans, echoing loudly in the silence after Elle finishes speaking. The code glitches for a second as the uplink attempts to wrestle a stable connection.

All it sends is a single message with a file attachment.

*“I protected Gwen. My promise to you is complete, amen.”*

El jumps up at the sound, but relaxes after seeing the message, sword vanishing in a watery shimmer. She frowns. “Promise? I… what promise did you make me, Olivia?” She looks down, at the other girl’s face. “I am glad to see a sign of life, though. You were always strong, more so than they made you to be.”

She presses a gauntleted finger at the screen, trying to open the attachment, before unsummoning her armour and trying again. With the armour gone it is apparent that they haven’t taken the time to get changed in a while; they wear expensive-looking athletic wear, a sports bra under a white silk shirt, but the clothes are rumpled and stained with blood and other things.

As soon as their finger brushes against the screen, the little icon explodes with a series of images and blueprints simultaneously dropping the information onto her phone.

Please work, this is my only chance. I can tell you everything that happened.

Once the files finish opening, the terminal opens up and a series of commands play out.

>Hel01101100o?
>Type anything if 01111001ou can see this

The command prompt blinks as the white text reflects off the screen.

**Elle raises an eyebrow, and types.**

>Anything

>ERROR.log: Visual upload offline

>Is this El? I can’t see an01111001thing right now.

>I’ve managed to access a rudimentary system to communicate but it glitches every now and then.

The left fan in Olivia’s ventilation system screeches metal against metal before a popping and echoing sound rises from the cavity as a blade brakes off.

>Yes, this is Lancelot. You don’t look so good, Olivia. Are you sure you should be exerting yourself like this?

>It’s the only way… The damage, is it that bad? A01101100l I can asses are errors.

>My processor is still working and other parts of the core system are still undamaged at the very least.

A few dots and empty command prompts fill the screen before the next few messages come out garbled. Another message follows through, clear for the most part.

>What happened with the other groups? We… defeated Dra-Ghazal and stopped the gas but I haven’t seen others from here- well- over there. Is everyone alright?

Elle starts typing up a battle report, quick despite her discomfort with the keyboard due to the result of years of practice and experience.

>Overall, it was a victory. though it was not a perfect victory. Rodriguez and Yamato both got away. Despite this I think we have achieved a measure of peace, for now. The Termites and Bees were defeated, and from what I hear, the cure is complete and ready for distribution.

>We gained a new ally in the Mole Kingdom, thanks to Challenge’s diplomatic skills.

>Zodiac City was damaged, but is safe. It is presently in the harbour, held up by an enormous tree Rhiannon made.

>Among the Big Team, casualties were minor. Gwendolyn was partially Transformed, and Rhiannon is effectively non-active right now, but I believe she is safe. Bestiary was depowered and has departed the team. Everyone has been assisting in relief efforts.

>Your sister is safe and in our custody, as is the Mortem spirit.

>Outside the Big Team I have limited information. Godspeed was injured but will live. Civilian casualties are still being tallied.

>I believe the threat has passed for now, and am confident in our ability to hold ground and make repairs until your return.

>...

>Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound formal there. Old habits. What else should I tell you? Oh, uh...

>I have a sword, and Gwen has cat ears.

A shrill beep escapes the monitor’s speakers. Memory errors pile up before sorting out into a separate file that quickly gets hidden from view. The bright red “ERROR” box appears for a brief moment before a spinning wheel reloads it as a green checkmark as the terminal re-opens.

Well, that certainly is a development...

>Gwen has...cat ears? ES-17 is safe from that monster?
>...

>You got your sword! What did you call the blade?

Elle smiles.

**>I actually didn’t name her, not entirely - the sword told me her name when I got her, and she had two, and told me to choose. I chose Joyeaux - jewel, joy.**

>ES-17 is safe. Herald brought her home.

>As for Gwen… I have pictures.

Olivia tries to smile but the command falls short when it reaches the nerve centre responsible for movement.

>(:

>That’s a lovely name.
>Everyone is safe and sound.

>Please show the pictures.

The responses slow down and shorten compared to the previous speed and intricacy before. Where the wires connect to her internal systems beneath her synthetic skin, the pale blue light flickers and dims slightly. It sparks back up and stabilizes, remaining at a dimmer level than before.

>I don’t have much time.

>Fixing now. Upload later?

>Are you still there El?

**El casts a worried glance at their friend, and types as quickly as their hunt-and-peck method will allow.**

>I’m here. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

>I don’t know what upload means, but the pictures won’t go away. I can show them to you when you’re better.

>When you come back to us.

Olivia’s arm shoots off a few sparks that fizzle out near the keyboard as the light stabilizes once again. Now, the prompts come almost instantaneously but still remain short.

>I’ll try to come back.

>Sorry I ended up like this…

>I kept the promise.

>You should rest. I’ll tell Gwendolyn you’re okay.

**>Rest sounds good right now**

>Can you keep this between us?

>She’s been through enough.

The monitor changes colours before shutting down completely. There isn’t any power left. The lights in the room themselves flicker on and off in the golden glow of dusk. As quickly as they blinked off, they turn back on, stabilizing.

It seems like I’ve run out of time. You’ll understand, right Elle?

Everything technological in the room returns to normal, save for the monitor and emergency power cell connected to Olivia. A few minutes later, the heavy silence is broken by a shrill pinging sound followed by the cell flashing back up with light. The monitor reboots and terminal re-opens, one final message showing itself to Elle before deactivating back to the glitchy damage reports.

>Beginning to rest

>My power core is damaged

>And it’s getting dark.

Reports fill the screen just as before and Elle’s phone buzzes with a new incoming file. A requested image makes its way onto their phone and shows a selfie in a mirror of the gremlins setting up a confetti bomb in Gwen’s room. Next to Parrot is a thick stack of papers labelled “AVALONIAN PRANKS- LONG CON EDITION” in bold red lettering as Challenge can be seen putting some office supplies in jello.

As El opens the door to leave, a bucket full of water and glitter spills from overhead all over their clothes. In the early light, they glisten and sparkle with rainbow hues, soaked head to toe as the camera fades to black. A quiet, mechanical giggle rings out.