GirlRobo: Rise of the MechaLita

(Part One of Two)

Transmission 1.1: Prologue

      “This one...” said Lord Tellion, pointing to the image displayed on a small monitor among many lining the walls of his security station, “this one represents the last of their kind. Both kinds. This one represents both, ahem, life-forms that threaten to ruin this country I have managed to perfection.” Tellion clasped his hands, his index fingers pressed to his lips in thought. His assistant, known simply at The Secondary, nervously cleared his throat. “And how, Lord, do you recommend we alleviate this...problem?”

      Tellion took his eyes from the monitor, meeting the Secondary’s with a single raised eyebrow. “Simple, Secondary,” casual, yet gruff, “very simple. We destroy her.”

Transmission 1.2: A Brief History/Meeting Gregory

      It had been eleven years since the civil war that ravaged the small nation of Somnucratia had ended. What was once a country at the forefront of the technology had been all but purged back into the dark ages by General Tellion and his Anti-Tech Legion. With all the cybernetic warrior’s of the former Somnucratic Mech Defense program defeated by the sheer human ingenuity of the AT-L, this left Tellion, now president(and declaring himself Lord), to rule with a strong fist and enact laws against the very things that once made his land a pioneer of industrialization and commerce.

      With his rise in power came a lowering of the value of human life for the greater population of Somnucratia, due to a more sweeping social hierarchy, particularly for those who were seen as a threat to Tellion and his militant supporters. These technological sympathizers, or “technofreaks” as they had become known by the elite, were driven underground.

      For it was now illegal for corporations to use robotic technology to perform tasks that would be less efficient or potentially hazardous to humans which, in turn, damaged productivity. It was now illegal for robots to assist in medical procedures which greatly lowered standards of health care for the general populace. This and more led to a quickly spiraling downfall of civilization in Somnucratia for all, save for Tellion and his elite.

      Gregory Noble was once such victim of Tellion’s oppression. This night, like most others since losing his career as a an award winning magazine editor, was spent browsing through the litter riddled alleyways in the heart of Carrystia, the formerly regal capitol city of his native country, in search of food and supplies. Little did he know that what he would find on this night would not only offer him temporary salvation, but change things for himself and his fellow Somnucratian undergrounders forever.

      Gregory was pillaging through one of his regular haunts, an old abandoned arcade where Tallion’s City Guardians, who patrolled areas like this to collect bounties on outlaw “technofreaks,” would often hang out in the early evening to get wasted, tell exaggerated stories of their deeds in the war, and revel in the death of the mechanical novelties which once drew young people to this place. They would often leave food or other staples behind and this is what drew Gregory here in the late evenings, despite the risk he was taking in the event any drunken Guardians had straggled behind. This old arcade was too promising a source for much needed food to pass up.

      But this time he was having no such luck. The place was absolutely barren, lacking even the stench of tobacco smoke and stale smell of beer which would usually fill this hall during a night of Guardian debauchery. Feeling even more disillusioned than his usual self, Gregory sullenly trudged back to the door to leave but was stopped short by a slight movement out of the corner of his right eye. His head darted over sharply and he fixed his eyes to the source of the disturbance, between two obsolete video game consoles. Standing between them he saw the silhouette of a small person, not much over four and a half feet tall. With pigtails. Something he had not seen in too long a time: a little girl.

      Gregory was held aback, hesitating for what seemed like minutes in the few seconds it took him to compose his countenance and reach out to her with a quavering hand. “Come here...” he spoke softly, unsure of how to approach her, “...I won’t hurt you. I just want to help.” He carefully sled closer towards her. She gave a slight flinch and was caught by a dusty ray of light which squeezed sharply through the small crevice between the video machine nearest the glass storefront and the wall to which she had her back. It revealed a shimmering flash along the length of her arm, from shoulder to wrist. Metal. A robot prosthetic, no doubt. This was a telltale sign that the girl was an undergrounder, like him.

Transmission 1.3: Ashryn

      “Your arm...” Gregory was still stumbling for words, “...don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you...” He was interrupted by the child’s laughter. “Hurt me? That’s prolly not gonna happen.”

      He stood silent for a second, dryly swallowing, then gave into his own laughter. Her sarcastic, confident tone made it clear to him that she was not afraid. At least not of him. Again he extended an open hand to her, gesturing that he would like for her to approach him. The girl slowly hobbled out from between the consoles in a clumsy gracefulness, her steps accompanied by what could only be described as a mild clanking. When she was but partially revealed by whatever weak neon was left to live in the arcade, Gregory was shocked to see that the girl did not just have one prosthetic limb...but her entire body, save for her head, was covered in some type of cyber exosuit. Gregory had seen things like this before, during the war, but did not believe anything like what he was seeing now had still existed. How could someone this young, this girl who appeared to be no more than nine years of age, have possibly gotten her hands on a MechaForm?

      He was full of a million questions, most surrounding the suit of course, but he had a strange feeling this may be a sensitive subject for her. He had heard rumors of some less scrupulous undergrounders and their technological experimentation and was disheartened by what this child may have gone through. Maybe that was why children were scarce with the Somnucration underground? Were they being used as guinea pigs? The thought made perfect sense, which only disgusted Gregory even more.

     Avoiding being insensitively prying, he asked her the obvious: “So, what’s your name, girl?” Her eyes widened and twinkled a bit. “Ashryn.” “Nice to meet you, Ashryn. I’m Gregory.” She smiled warmly. “And how old are you?” “Eight.” Gregory was satisfied. He had not seen a child in so long, he’d almost forgotten what they look like! He wasn’t exactly the best at judging ages and he was satisfied to have guessed within a year. “Why are you out here this late at night all by yourself? Don’t you know how dangerous...” Ashryn cut him off, “I’m on a mission, sir!” Gregory erupted in laughter. “A mission?” he cackled in disbelief, “what kind of mission could you possibly be on, now? I mean, you’re just a little girl! How resourceful can you possibly...” Ashryn again cut him off, this time very abruptly, counting on her thick-gloved fingers, “One! Don’t underexcimate me! Just a girl, grrr. Two, exactly how much better are you doing with your life? You look like you could use a LOT of help.”

      Gregory had to admit to himself that she had a point.

     He composed himself. “So...tell me about this ‘mission’ of yours.” She explained, “well, right now I have to go home to get sumthing. Wanna come? I’ve got food!” Gregory definitely appreciated the offer but, “we’ve got to be careful, you know?” he said. “If the Guardians see us they’ll...” She giggled, “they won’t catch us. We can fly, they can’t.” “Fly?” Gregory laughed, “you’ve been reading too many Solar Man comics.”

      “Solar Man? Who’s that?” Ashryn giggled as she fired up the rocket boosters in her boots and told Gregory to hold on tight. “But how can you support me?” Gregory asked. “I’ve got the strength of lots of people!” she proudly proclaimed. At this point Gregory was willing to believe her, so he hopped onto her back, clasping her armored shoulders tightly. She glided to the door and, raising her left gauntlet, activated a pulsor ray which blew it off of it’s hinges.

      And they were off.

Transmission 1.4: Home Sweet Cynotek Lab

      Ashryn transported Gregory through the air swiftly and in a matter of minutes they had reached the northern outskirts of Carrystia, which was once the world’s most important center of industry. She began encircling a particularly dark and age torn factory, slowing herself to a safe pace while spiraling downward to the soil, making a perfect landing at what must have once been the back entrance to the plant while it was still in operation.

     “This is it,” she told Gregory, “this is where I live.” She glided the door open with a casual thrust and a surprising lack of creak or friction. Gregory followed Ashryn inside, not expecting the faint whiff of static in the air. Ashryn activated a lamp embedded in the center of her torso without a gesture, as if willing it to life, and it flooded the spacious plant floor generously with light. Gregory scanned around and saw nothing but dust and few remnants of long dismembered electronic devices.

 “You actually live here?” he asked Ashryn in a concerned tone, “what is this place?” “My father’s old robotics company,” she said, “Cynotek Industries. It was closed after the AT-L won the war and Tellion became ruler.” Gregory nodded but still, concerned, “and you still live here? How can you live in...this? And what about your father?” As if intentionally ignoring him, Ashryn waved over her shoulder, “Come on.”

      She led him several feet forward. “Okay, this is it.” She opened a compartment on her utility belt, revealing a keypad. She punched in a series of buttons and Gregory sensed, audibly but more of a feeling, a low grumble below. A portion of what was once a solid cement floor grated open, revealing a lighted staircase leading down underground. “Follow me,” said Ashryn, invitingly.

      As they paced down the narrow corridor Ashryn explained, “we were attacked by AT-L Guardians when they found out about us. They broke everything they couldn’t take and arrested all the peeps here. But I was hiding down here in my father’s lab and I guess they didn’t know about it.” “When did this happen?” asked Gregory. Ashryn stopped stepping and squinted her eyes in thought, counting out in a mumble. She perked up, “OH! Four months. Almost four months ago.”

      They had finally reached the end of the staircase, which was much longer than Gregory had expected, and Ashryn hit a toggle switch embedded in the left wall of the corridor which shut in the entrance behind them.

      “This is my father’s lab,” said Ashryn.

      Gregory looked around and was quickly unimpressed...for what he saw was nothing but a tiny, empty room...the only notable thing was the fact that it was fully illuminated despite a lack of a light source.

     “There’s nothing here?” he said to Ashryn. She said, “hold on...” and opened the keypad in her belt again. A quick sequence of buttons later and the walls of this small, metal box of a room fanned open, revealing more technological hardware than Gregory would have even believed existed in pre-war Somnucratia. Devices he recognized on sight, others that looked to be from several millenia ahead of their time.

     As if Ashryn could detect Gregory’s curiosity and desire to browse around, she said, “I kinda wanna hurry. I just came here to get one little thing.” She opened a chromed cabinet in what seemed to be a kitchen area of the lab and pulled out several envelopes of dehydrated food. “Here, you can have this, Geggy,” she said, handing over the packets.

      Ashryn was at a long column of cabinets jostling through them as Gregory prepared his first meal in three days. “What exactly are you looking for?” he asked her. “Sumthing my father made that I need for my mission.” She searched until Gregory had finished eating and finally decided, “it’s not here! I guess I’ll have to make a new one.” Gregory looked up at her, “you can do that? I mean, you have the know how to...” Ashryn again displayed her knack for cutting one short, “I didn’t live with the best robotic engineer for three years without learning a few tricks. Besides, it’s as easy as looking up the blueprints.”

      Gregory was curious as to why Ashryn had only lived with her father for three years, but figured it was none of his business so didn’t pry. He watched as she walked over to a rather small desk and pulled a tiny, chromed box, which couldn’t have been any more than nine cubic inches, from a file drawer. She sat down next to him at the dining table and opened another compartment in her belt, this one filled to the brim with hundreds of small, silvery pins, about the same length and girth of toothpicks. She carefully selected one from the many and inserted it in a pinhole at the side of the metallic cube.

      To Gregory’s amazement, a lens popped out of the top plane of the cube, emitting a hologram of what looked like a sheet of grid paper full of sketches and electronic notation he did not understand. “Print,” said Ashryn in an almost commanding monotone. The hologram suddenly became a tangible sheet of paper, which Ashryn snatched down and placed on the table. “Next Page. Print.” The hologram moved on to and ‘printed’ out what Gregory knew must have been the second page of the blueprints Ashryn needed. She collected a total of five sheets then pulled out the pin and returned it to the pouch on her belt.

      “That was fuckin’ killer!” exclaimed and awestruck Gregory. “Hey, don’t say that word!” said Ashryn, barely able to smother her giggle. “Did your father invent that? He must have been an extremely advanced computer scientist!” Ashryn beamed with pride. “Naw...he just ‘vented this for fun. He was all about robots.”

      “Well, I got to go work on this. Shouldn’t take too long,” she said, gathering up her papers. She rifled through her belt compartment and carefully chose another slender, metal pin and handed it to Gregory. “Here! This’ll give you sumthing to read and prolly answer a few things for you.” With that, Ashryn scuffled off to a small work station in the corner of the lab, sliding a rather large box full of various bits and pieces of gear from under it, and began tinkering around. Gregory held the pin she had given him up to the light and peered at it for a brief spell, shrugged, then meticulously slid it into the pinhole on the cube. The hologram activated, Gregory, not knowing what to expect, started reading...

Transmission 1.5: Bye, Bye, Miss Somnucratian Pie

[The following files have been compiled by Dr. Robert Isaacs, proprietor of Cynotek Industries and co-founder of the Underground Resistance Coalition [URC]. They have been derived from various media specialists sympathetic to the underground and URC intelligence. The purpose of these files is to provide a detailed profile of Lord George Tellion and a verifiable account of his rise to political stature through unscrupulous criminal activity.]

File Date 10.21.YR:

To better understand Tellion’s motivations we must first understand the man himself and must start with is past. George Tellion was once a promising young politician. Soon after receiving his BA in Political Science he entered graduate studies and gained a much coveted internship with then Governor Thomas Brillogh, who was being touted by many as the most likely candidate for a shortly upcoming election to fill the seat of the recently deceased President Tennyson.

Brillogh won the election by a landslide, due in part to the public’s faith in his interest and knowledge of robotic technology, which had made his country the world leader it had been during his time.

Tellion had managed to make an overwhelming impression on Brillogh during his brief internship, given Tellion’s incredible interest and knowledge of history and military strategy, and immediately gave the young man a position on his cabinet, heading up Somnucratia’s Mech Defense Program [MDP].

Tellion saw his new career as the perfect opportunity to propose to his lover, a young woman, still in adolescence, Rebecca. He had been putting off his plans to start a life and family with her for the several years since he had fallen in love and now he finally had his chance.

The engagement was short. George and Rebecca quickly eloped and on the very night of their hidden marriage, a tragedy had changed things for the worst, not only for the young couple, but all of Somnucratia.

While attempting to drive home from their honeymoon in an intoxicated state, George had overcorrected a simple wrong turn and ran headlong into the front end of a transport hauler. The accident had totaled their automobile but had left George unscathed. Rebecca, however, had sustained irreparable injury; she would spend the rest of what little was left of her life paralyzed from the neck down.

After the accident, Rebecca was quickly rushed to Carrystia Medical Facility #7 where she underwent an experimental exo-skeletal bonding procedure developed by my longtime associate and acclaimed cyber-surgeon, Dr. Ken Kirgsama. This test run proved a success and Rebecca was once again able to perform any physical task as aptly and efficiently as before.

However, due to internal damage, it was concluded that Rebecca would not be able to conceive of children. Upon seeing his new wife’s physical ‘upgrade’ and learning of her inability to provide him with children, George Tellion became outraged. Calling this beautiful combination of young girl and mechanical advancement a ‘monstrosity,’ he quickly annulled the marriage and, from that moment on, became obsessed with ridding the world of what he now called “technofreaks.”

::Robert Isaacs::

End File

      Gregory stared blankly at the hologram. “Next Page.” Scanning page after page, looking for key words that may be of interest, “Next Page, Next Page,” skipping several pages at a time, reading only ones that seemed to contain the most important of information. “Next Page.”

File Date 12.17.YR:

Over the next few years following the incident that scarred Tellion’s opinion of mechanical reliance, he had charismatically developed a strong public image and following. He had persuaded a small minority of Somnucratia’s populace to think as he did; to be technophobic themselves. He had convinced his followers of things he, himself, knew to be untrue. That the technologically advanced medical practices were not beneficial at all and was slowly turning humanity into ‘mechanical montrosities.’ That the robotic assistants who improved working conditions, to the point of no longer requiring Somnucratia to rely on child labor, were a means of robots ‘stealing jobs.’ Moreover, he had convinced what eventually grew into a small majority of followers that the government, through plans enacted by President Shillogh, were intent on implanting encoded chips into their brains and controlling their very actions, turning the citizens of Somnucratia into ‘robots’ themselves.

When Tellion was satisfied that his support was strong enough, he attempted a coup of Shillogh’s power, which proved to be unsuccessful, yet divisive. Tellion was removed from office as director of the MDP [which he had since been strategically dismantling and replacing with more ‘standard’ forms of defense] and his followers, outraged by this ‘injustice,’ became militant and hostile, setting the foundation for Tellion to create the Anti-Tech Legion [AT-L].

The AT-L created panic and chaos, particularly in the streets of the once beautiful Carrystia. Shillogh was forced to enact martial law, having MDP troops on constant patrol, with direct orders to halt AT-L activity by any means necessary. What had started as random rioting and acts of terrorism had quickly erupted into the AT-L/Somnucratian War.

The results, as we all know, were devastating. Having destroyed most of Shillogh’s loyalists, and Shillogh himself a casualty of this war, the way was paved for Tellion to place himself as President of Somnucratia.

::Robert Isaacs::

End File

      “Next page.” Gregory again scanned through several pages and settled in on one that caught his particular attention.

File Date 03.13.DS:

Myself and several colleagues who had been driven underground for refusing to give up on the old ways, thus having bounties placed by the new law enforcement division of the AT-L, have colluded our resources into the Underground Resistance Coalition [URC]. The primary purpose of the URC is to gather information, found in these very files, to provide as evidence needed to transmit to international authority in regards to Tellion’s unlawful tyranny.

We have received some very disturbing information from URC intelligence who had managed to infiltrate the AT-L’s primary base of operations, the Somnucration Capitol building.

The building itself acts as Tellion’s home and central headquarters. Constantly at his side is his assistant, who is only known as The Secondary*. The Secondary is much less a companion than whipping boy.

Surrounding Tellion’s inner sanctum within the AT-L HQ is a decidedly non-state of the art, yet very effective, security system featuring countless cameras, motion detectors, and, of course, AT-L Guardians, the best of them, well trained in combat and even more well armed.

[*It is important to note that, by all accounts and available images of this Secondary, there is something gravely disturbing about him. I cannot comment further in these files until more tangible reports come in regarding him. But, whatever the case may be, there is definitely more than meets the eye with him.]

Our initial assumptions of how Tellion has been able to deceive the rest of the world of the tyrannical oppression in Somnucratia have been solidified by documents found by one of our best agents, who has somehow managed to find his way deep into the heart and trust of the AT-L elite. These documents provide proof that Tellion has been able to pay off several other important world leaders very generously and, in return, they provide their respective country’s media with false details of life in Somnucratia. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, the war was a mere scuffle of radicals and things are as before. It is amazing Tellion is able to pull off such a vast conspiracy, which is why the credibility of these files must be backed up by indisputable accounts.

Our greatest fears, very unfortunately, have also been solidified. In order to maintain the former image of Somnucratia to the rest of the world, productivity and commerce must be maintained as it had pre-war. To that end, Tellion has set up advanced weapons facilities, using human labor without regard to their well being. Working conditions are grueling, industrial accidents are all too common, even workplace fatalities are now considered ‘inconvenient’ at best for the upper echelon. Even more tragic, due to a quickly dwindling availability of humans able to work in such hazardous circumstances, child slavery is not uncommon. We no longer wonder where the children of the underground have disappeared to.

::Robert Isaacs::

End File

      Gregory was physically repulsed by what he had just read. He wasn’t sure if he had the intestinal fortitude to continue. “Next Page.” The next file he’d selected to read, passing over but a few this time, left him feeling just as uncomfortable. But, what he knew of the end result of this particular passage, gave him a strange, bittersweet elation.

File Date 03.24.DS:

In one of our scouting missions to gather salvageable remnants to use in our war torn facilities, we found something definitely not expected. A child. After finally coaxing the young girl to speak to us we learned that she was, as we had assumed, one of the children forced to work in the inhumane conditions of the AT-L sweat shops. The only thing this girl knew of her own identity was her age [it is telling that these children are not even allowed their own identities]; five years. And the only reason she knew this is due to just about the only limitation of what passed for Human Resources in this damned country allowed: five is the minimum age for slave labor.

Based on her limited description of ‘job’ requirements, we ascertained she must have worked in some type of smelting facility. The scorch marks on her face, arms, and bare feet also attested to this. The soot on her cheeks reminded me of a story I remembered from my own childhood. The Brothers Grimm had their girl of cinder; I now have my girl of ash. Her name is Ashryn.

::Robert Isaacs::

End File

      Gregory looked over his shoulder to the workbench where Ashryn diligently tinkered away, then returned to reading, “Next Page.”

File Date 05.07.DS:

After an extensive medical examination it was discovered that Ashryn had developed a particularly ugly infection in both lungs, no doubt an effect of toxic fumes she’d been exposed to through her previous environment. My longtime friend and fellow URC member, Dr. Kirgsama, successfully replaced her infected lungs, which would have eventually failed, with a cybernetic device he had hobbled together from what little equipment he had left from the purge of technology. She was now a cybernetic organism; a cyborg. This was an uncomfortable choice for all involved, but a necessary one for her to live. [In particular for Kirgsama, as the two have grown quite keen on one another.]

I have also fashioned for her a cybertronic exosuit, based on what I remember of the drafts for the ones used by the MDP MechaForms [Mechandroidic Soldiers] during the war, just as a precautionary measure, in the event AT-L Guardians discover our location. It’s self reactive defensive capabilities may very well save her life in such an incident.

::Robert Isaacs::

End File

      “Almost finished,” Ashryn crooned from her work station. Gregory was wrapped up in his reading, but hurriedly rushed to a more recent file.

File Date 03.24.GC:

      (The date was not lost on Gregory. Almost exactly four months ago tonight. Just before Cyotek Labs had been sieged by Guardians.)

Though we have no way of knowing the actual DOB, today we celebrated Ashryn’s eighth birthday. She received the usual gift of upgrades to her exosuit. As usual, she took to the new features and capabilities almost instinctively, as if the suit and her mind had somehow formed a neurological rapport. This symbiotic relationship has yet to be understood.

This event is worth noting in these files for the sole reason that Ashryn is now in possession of the most advanced cy-exosuit ever developed. If our resistance to the AT-L escalates into yet another civil war before we have successfully overturned their reign, her exosuit will make the perfect prototype for a more advanced MechaForm.

::Robert Isaacs::

End File

      Gregory, wanting to read more, tinkered with the cube, giving possible commands, “Back. Last Page.” He couldn’t get the hang of it but kept trying, when suddenly...

      “GIRLTASTIC!!!” exclaimed Ashryn, “I did it!” She ran over to Gregory waving her freshly built item madly in the air. “You made a...gun?” “No, it’s not a gun,” she giggled, “it’s a NIMFET!” “A nymphet? Why do you call it that?” Ashryn shrugged, “I dunno...that’s just what it’s called. Now, I’ve gotta go finish my mission. You can come if you want?” Gregory said, “okay, I probably should go. But...where exactly are we going, Ashryn?” She said, as seriously as possible, “do you think you could call me by my codename from here on out? It’s...GirlRobo.” Gregory erupted in laughter. “GirlRobo? What the fuck kinda cornball name is that?” She counted her fingers, “One! It’s not cornball, Dr. Kirgy made it up. Two! Don’t say that word!” This time she could not suppress her giggle fit. “Okay, err, GirlRobo...so, where are we going, again?” GirlRobo gave a half cocked smile. “To the AT-L headquarters.”

To Be Concluded