Talla’s commanders had said that the Centurions came seeking knowledge, but failed to mention the lengths to which they would go to reach it. Outposts had been devastated across the Queil frontier, all for want of information. State secrets, black-box servers, experimental weapons, and not even the things themselves. The Centurions would let dozens die just to know of these mysteries. It was horrifying.
That was why Talla didn’t feel an ounce of remorse as she leapt from cover and fired two flack rounds at the hulking figure marching down the outer corridor of Zelkuun Eyrie. With a terse crackle, shrapnel pockmarked the Centurion, its ungainly ablative armour fracturing to absorb the impacts. Even as the cracks and craters began to seal themselves, Talla loaded an explosive round with the skill of a practiced combatant, stepped out again and took aim at a now-exposed joint.
A direct hit saw the entire left arm explode, but the monstrous drone would not be deterred. Talla had only drawn its attention. As the limb reconstructed itself, the robot eyed her curiously, its grotesque clay-moulded face tilted to one side. Talla swore she saw her mother’s face in those uncanny features, and heard her signature indignant tone as the Centurion repeated, “I come seeking knowledge.”
“Know this, creature,” Talla hissed, priming her last grenade as she stepped forward to meet the Centurion. “You perish at the hands of Corporal Talla Thrake!”
On some dark screen, lightyears away, the marker for Zelkuun Eyrie blinked out.
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