Democracy comes to Copper 9. (Helldivers 2 X Murder Drones.)

September 2184. Bunker 00. Command Room.

Within the dimly lit command room of the bunker, V, J, and Martin stood around the glowing holographic display at the center. Ever since humanity had restored it to aid in communication, the device had been instrumental in maintaining contact across colonies and outposts. Now, it buzzed with overlapping voices, reflecting the frantic activity sparked by the humans' recent arrival.

"This is Colony 3; I've got a line of vehicles heading past us—they look ready for war. I counted at least 12 tanks in the convoy," one voice echoed through the room.

"This is Outpost 05. Objects are falling from the sky—big ones. A few have landed, but more are still coming," another voice called out, sharp with urgency.

"This is Bunker 00. We understand the situation; those are the humans. It seems they're up to something. We're awaiting their commander's return to clarify," V responded, exhaling a weary sigh. She had anticipated some sort of move from the humans but hadn't imagined anything on this scale.

"I think this is what they've been working on all week," J interjected, his gaze fixed on the holographic map of their home. "One thing's for sure: they don't mess around. I haven't seen a mobilization like this in years."

"It's total chaos," Martin added, his tone uncharacteristically uncertain. "I just checked with the combat drones on patrol—there are dozens of those pods falling from the sky. Human aircraft—Pelicans and others—are swarming the outer areas of the outpost. I don't know what they're planning, but it's something even I didn't see coming."

The tense atmosphere thickened as the door slid open, and Jason entered. All three turned toward him.

"First, I'd like to apologize for not informing you all sooner," Jason began, stepping toward the display. "It's been a hectic week, and this slipped my mind."

"With the scale of this operation, I can see why," J replied. "But can you fill us in now?"

Jason nodded, typing commands into the console. The hologram shifted to a different layout, now showing the colony with blue dots encircling it and others clustered within. He pointed to the new markers, identifying them as Forward Operating Bases (FOBs).

"This is what we call the Fortress Protocol. If Helldivers, SES, or SEAF forces are cut off from Super Earth—or under specific orders—this protocol ensures the protection of colonies or critical assets. In this case, you're considered both a colony and a critical asset of Super Earth."

"So all this is to protect us?" V asked, surprise evident in her voice.

"Not just you. It's also to secure our operations. We can't carry out missions without a safe haven, and ensuring your colony's security is step one," Jason explained, bringing up a new schematic showing roads, rail lines, and fortified walls.

"This is phase two: construction. We'll establish logistical hubs and infrastructure to transport supplies and equipment rapidly, upgrading your colony to Super Earth standards."

"That's not just protection—that's a full-scale rebuild," J said, her eyes wide as she studied the projection.

"This scale… Are you sure your forces can handle it?" Martin asked, his skepticism evident.

"We can," Jason affirmed. "This is my first time overseeing such an operation, but it's been done before—even in enemy territory. This is no different."

Another hologram appeared, showcasing a fully fortified colony surrounded by towering walls.

"The final phase is deployment. Once the colony is secured, we'll push into the Red Zone to carry out missions. But there's bad news." Jason's expression darkened as he typed in another command, bringing up an image of the Steel Terror.

"The Steel Terror…" V's voice faltered, her tone laced with dread. "I thought it was dead."

"Unfortunately, it's not. According to the science team, its wounds weren't caused by our weapons. They suspect something called the 'Core' escaped during the battle."

"That means it's still out there… I thought we were done with that nightmare," J murmured, her voice trembling.

"This time, it's no longer the hunter. We'll make sure of that. Our forces are mobilized; nothing will get near us," Jason reassured them, his confidence steadying V and J, though Martin's focus remained fixed on the hologram.

"Besides this, did you find anything at the facility?" Martin asked, breaking the silence.

"The vault yielded a few items of interest; they're en route here. But there was nothing else related to Nori," Jason replied.

"I didn't expect much, but I still want to understand why she was there," Martin said, his tone contemplative.

"One step at a time. We have many more locations to explore," Jason said, resetting the hologram to the map of Copper 9.

"How are N and Uzi?" V asked. "I imagine they're still watching you humans closely."

"Can you blame them?" Jason shrugged. "They're sharp, and Uzi's holding up well. Facility 7 might've been a dead end, but it doesn't mean Nori is lost. We'll keep looking."

Pausing, Jason glanced at V and J. "Speaking of which, I overheard something. Uzi mentioned the possibility of reconnecting with a human partner. I'm not pressuring you, but do you think you two could work with another human again?"

Both V and J froze, their optics wide with surprise. Even Martin seemed taken aback.

"I… I don't think I could," J admitted, her voice heavy with emotion. "Not after what happened to Taryn."

"Same for me," V added. "After Anderson… I just don't know. I've never even considered it."

"I understand," Jason said gently. "It's not an easy thing to revisit after everything you've been through. I won't push it. It's just something to think about."

The room fell silent as V and J wrestled with old memories. Jason stepped back from the console, his thoughts already turning to his next tasks. There was much to do, and the weight of the past lingered heavily in the air.

"I don't think I could ever work with a human again. They're not the only ones who lost someone in that mess," Martin said. Though he often seemed cold and logical, even he had once shared a connection with a human he valued.

"I understand that all too well. After what happened at the Creek, I went solo for weeks—couldn't bear being part of another team. But eventually, I learned to work with others again." Jason's voice carried an edge of sympathy before shifting gears. "By the way, where are the combat drones Isaak and Alia stationed? Which outpost?"

"Why do you need to know where they are?" J asked, his tone cautious.

"They were at the entrance earlier, speaking with one of the SEAF soldiers, then with me. They're advocating for fortifications and supplies. Your outposts are key to the outer defenses alongside the FOBs. I need to inspect them personally and honor my word. They asked for help, and as a Helldiver, it's my duty to deliver. If any of your colonies need immediate assistance, let me know—I'll address it while I'm out." Jason's conviction was clear. These colonies, after all, were part of Super Earth, and that meant protecting them.

V stepped forward, typing on the table's interface. A new display appeared, zooming in on a distant point on the colony's map.

"They're stationed here, at the far edge of the colony. Most of our experienced combat drones are there. Isaak and Alia should be on-site and not on patrol right now. Information on other locations will take some time to gather," V explained.

"Take all the time you need. I'd rather we do this thoroughly than rush into repairs and rebuilding. I'll head out immediately. When I return, the team retrieving materials from Facility 7 should be back. We'll assess everything together then. There's another matter we'll address as a group, but that's for later." Jason spoke with measured determination as he turned away from the table and exited the room.

Once he was gone, the three exchanged glances. While Jason's departure clarified some logistical concerns, his comments on forming bonds with humans again left them unsettled. As they pondered this, a new holographic screen materialized, bearing the Super Earth symbol before shifting to reveal the face of the Democracy Officer aboard the Super Destroyer Aegis of Integrity.

"Greetings. This is our first face-to-face meeting," the Officer said, his tone formal but inquisitive. "You must be the drones Jason has been working with. I see the Helldiver has left. May I ask where he's headed?"

"He's on his way to an outpost to speak with two combat drones about defense and supplies. Should I call him back?" V offered.

"No, let him proceed with his mission. It's a pleasure to meet you all," the Officer replied smoothly.

"Who are you, if I might ask?" J inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"I'd also like to know," Martin added, his optics fixed on the screen.

"I am the Democracy Officer aboard the Aegis of Integrity. My role is to provide tactical support for Helldiver operations. While Jason leads this mission, I serve as a superior officer in a broader sense. Each Super Destroyer has an officer in this capacity," he explained.

"Interesting," Martin said. "So you're integral to the human command structure. It seems we'll be collaborating frequently as events unfold."

"Indeed," the Officer acknowledged. "This meeting has been a long time coming. When the Helldiver returns, we'll address the matter at hand. For now, he's needed elsewhere." The hologram flickered and vanished, leaving the drones alone once more.

Martin's optics lingered on the table before turning to V and J.

"It seems there's a human like you, Martin—not as cold, but similar," J remarked with a faint chuckle.

Martin remained silent and strode toward the door. The notion of attachment, especially to humans, weighed on their minds. While Martin prided himself on logic and stoicism, he wasn't devoid of emotion. Scars from his past ran deep, and his words earlier stemmed from experiences no one should endure.

As he walked down the corridor, he focused on suppressing memories, but the idea of someone bearing a burden like his resurfaced thoughts of the one human he had connected with—the moment of her death replaying in his mind like an unhealed wound.

2084. Copper 9 Surface. One hour after the nuclear bombardment.

The warning from Bunker 00 came too late. A SEAF convoy had scrambled to reach safety, abandoning their post, only to be caught by a nuclear strike before they could make it. The missile's detonation sent vehicles flying like leaves in a storm. For Martin, one of the convoy's combat drones, his systems shut down completely during the chaos. When his optics finally came back online, the nightmare he faced was unimaginable. Trapped inside a burning APC, he gazed through the cracked window at a hellish landscape—mushroom clouds mushroomed on the horizon, the sky ablaze with fire, and ash fell like snow, blanketing the ground in a toxic shroud.

"Dammit... Martin, you still with me?" a strained voice called out, cutting through the static in Martin's audio receptors. It belonged to one of the SEAF soldiers, the only other survivor inside the damaged APC lying on its side.

"I'm here. Systems are coming back online," Martin replied, his mechanical voice tinged with a faint echo of human-like weariness. "If I weren't hardened against EMPs, I'd be fried right now. Still, everything's buzzing."

The soldier staggered to the rear hatch and slammed his body against it in a futile attempt to force it open.

"We need radiation meds from the first aid kit behind you. We're going to need them." His voice carried urgency, though it faltered under the weight of their grim reality.

"You know as well as I do," Martin began, his tone clinical, "The chances of any of you humans surviving this are infinitesimal."

The soldier turned, his eyes alight with defiance. "We still have to try, even if it's for nothing. I'd rather go down saving lives than doing nothing. Besides..." He hesitated. "Mira's out there."

That name froze Martin's processors for a brief moment, his optic sensors narrowing. Mira. How could he have forgotten? Guilt and dread clawed at the edges of his logic cores. She needed to be found. Without another word, Martin grabbed the first aid kit and moved toward the hatch.

Bracing himself, he pounded against the door, his mechanical strength warping the metal until it finally gave way with a thunderous crash. Stepping outside, the devastation hit like a physical blow. Fires raged around them, ash swirled in the air like a macabre blizzard and black clouds swallowed the heavens.

"Sweet Liberty... They really did it," the soldier whispered, his voice trembling as he took in the apocalyptic scene. But Martin wasn't listening. His attention was drawn to a nearby APC overturned in the dirt.

He reached it in a few long strides and hammered on the side hatch. "Mira! Are you in there?" he called, desperation leaking into his otherwise mechanical tone.

A few seconds passed, each stretching into eternity before a weak, pained voice responded. "Martin..."

It was all he needed. Tossing the med case aside, he gripped the twisted metal and pulled, the door screeching in protest before yielding to his strength. The sight inside made his optic sensors flicker in horror. Mira lay crumpled in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of her squad. A jagged piece of metal was embedded in her abdomen, blood pooling around her and staining her uniform. Her lips trembled, blood trickling down her chin as she weakly lifted her head to meet his gaze.

"Martin... I can't feel my legs," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the distant crackle of flames.

Martin stepped inside, his frame casting a shadow over her. He knelt, taking her hand in his, but the calculations flooding his system confirmed the worst. The wound was fatal. Footsteps approached from behind, and the soldier appeared at the hatch, his face pale as he surveyed the carnage.

"Liberty's mercy..." he muttered. "Martin, I'm so sorry."

The soldier's words were static to Martin. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Mira. She had been his assigned partner, the human tether to his cold logic, and now she was dying.

"Mira, there's nothing I can do. Stims won't fix this, and..." His voice faltered, uncharacteristically uncertain.

She managed a faint smile, though pain etched every feature of her face. "It's alright... Just... get out of here. Leave me."

A wet cough wracked her body, blood spraying as she gasped for breath. Moments later, her eyes closed, and her hand went limp in his. Martin froze, his processors struggling to reconcile the finality of it. Slowly, he reached up and gently closed her eyes, his fingers lingering as though reluctant to let her go.

"Martin," the soldier said softly, his tone urgent yet understanding, "we need to move. Now."

The words barely registered. Martin's mind was trapped in a loop of memory and regret, the pain of loss cutting through his logical defenses like a blade.

As the soldier's voice faded into the background, Martin rose, his optic sensors dimming as he cast one last look at Mira's lifeless form. The ash continued to fall like snow, covering the nightmare in a mockery of peace.

September 2184. Bunker 00. Corridor 01.

Stopping in his tracks, Martin looked down at his hands, his optics focusing on the one that had held Mira's as life slipped away. His fingers trembled before clenching into a fist. He struck the metal wall of the corridor with a force that echoed through the empty hall, the sharp clang doing nothing to drown out the memory. He wanted it gone, wanted to bury the pain, but it refused to fade.

"Mira... I'm sorry I failed you," Martin muttered, his voice hollow as he stood alone in the corridor. The silence pressed on him, amplifying his thoughts. Could he truly ever be close to someone again? V, J, and N had the same struggles and the same scars.

Countless combat drones shared this pain, the loss that came with attachment. The prospect of forming bonds again was daunting, yet unavoidable. They were destined to work alongside humans once more. The inevitability of attachment loomed, but the question clawed at him: would this time be any different, or would it end the same?

September 2184. Bunker 00. Entrance.

After his meeting, Jason returned to the entrance of the bunker. A group of drones still lingered there, observing the humans as they worked tirelessly. Lizzy was the first to spot him, her hand waving in greeting. N and Uzi, stationed at the edge of the group, turned their attention to him.

"Ah, the Big Man himself is back," Lizzy called out, grinning.

"He has a name—it's Jason," Uzi retorted.

"I know, but look at him—he's huge," Lizzy replied, her tone playful.

Jason chuckled faintly. "It's alright, Uzi. I'm done with the meeting. Now, I need to see Isaak and Alia to go over what needs doing there."

"Everything goes well in there?" N asked. "It's chaos out here, though. Reminds me of the ammo depot I worked at—always busy, even on slow days."

"It went well enough. Still a lot to handle, but once I'm done, I'll be back here. When I return, I want all of you to join me in the command room," Jason instructed, his tone firm yet calm.

The group exchanged confused glances.

"Why would you need us in there?" Thad asked, frowning.

"We're not exactly welcome in that space," Rebecca added, her voice hesitant. "And with all that's happening, I assume it's not meant for drones like us."

"Honestly, I don't feel comfortable in there," Emily admitted. "Sure, there's light, but that place has always unsettled me."

Jason raised a hand, signaling them to stop. "Listen, I have to file a report to the Ministry of Defense by day's end. This time, though, I want all of you there—V, J, N, Uzi, Martin—all of you. It's time for a face-to-face discussion as a group. They need to see you and hear you. Up until now, they've only had my perspective. I think it's time they understand you and this colony firsthand."

His words carried weight, though they left some uneasy.

"That's… unexpected," N admitted. "If I recall, the Ministry of Defense oversees the entire Super Earth military, right?"

"You're correct," Jason replied. "They hold ultimate authority over this operation. What they say, I do. But for them to make informed decisions, they need more than my words—they need yours."

The Ministry had seen only Jason's reports and a few images. Now, they needed direct insight. Jason hoped this meeting would prompt other Ministries to take action, particularly the Ministry of Science.

The drones were unlike anything Jason had encountered—unique, enigmatic. They should never have been left behind on Copper 9. The greater mystery, though, was why they were there. Whatever had occurred on Copper 9 had been buried deep, erased from galactic history.

Only time would reveal the truth, but Jason felt the weight of that truth looming ever closer.

Edited thanks to ELE73CH.