Chapter 02 -Mature

Open with a bird’s eye view of  Central City, the ultra-modern city built atop Dartmoor. We see a pair of black government cars pull up outside the Central Police HQ, secret service agents get out first and open the car door for the Prime Minister who then walks into the police station

Cut to the interior of the police station, Police Commissioner Wilhelm Burke, a bearded older man in a crumpled suit sits at a desk nursing a glass of whiskey; a half empty bottle sits on the desk. His intercom buzzes

Maria Latta: Commissioner Burke, sorry to disturb you sir but Prime Minister Marcus is on his way up to see you

Burke: OK thanks Maria

He quickly stashes his whiskey and glass in the desk drawer moments before Prime Minister Philip Marcus; a tall athletic man in his early sixties with short gray hair and trimmed sideburns enters the room

Marcus: Sorry for the surprise visit Bill

He sits down on the chair opposite Burke and sighs deeply

Marcus: I was just on the way to give King Edgar his weekly briefing when the call came through about the Docklands explosion. Please tell me you have something

Burke: There were no threats, not even a whisper on the grapevine till everything went to hell

Marcus: Those bastards from the Bench-Ku?

Burke: One of our Special-Firearms officers neutralized a damned cyber junkie fleeing the scene

Marcus scowls

Marcus: The Cybernetic Life Force then?

Burke: It would appear so Sir, they were using a Neuralink ‘Infiltrator body’. God knows how they got that kind of weaponry into the city. 

Marcus: Christ Bill! This is the last thing we need right now

Burke: More than seventy-five fatalities and millions in property damage, let alone the future gas shortages in the district... I just pray they haven’t got any bigger hardware

Marcus: We would have to call in the army... the smug look on General Cruse’s face. We can’t let that happen! That man is just looking for an excuse to get boots back on the ground in the city

Marcus motions to an aide who removes a stack of files from a briefcase and puts them down in front of Burke

Marcus: This should be everything you need to set our plan rolling. How long till you can have the team assembled?

Burke: It shouldn’t take more than a couple days Sir

Marcus tries to smile and be positive but fails

Marcus: Good, good

He walks to the door slightly hunched before turning to look back at Burke

Marcus: Look after my city Bill; we’re all counting on you

Cut to elevated view of a petrol station, a red convertible is being filled by D.I. Kurt Cruse, a tall athletic man in his early thirties with slick black hair, a loose white shirt, jeans and sunglasses. He walks into the shop. Inside the attendant is being held at gunpoint by a desperate looking robber. Kurt quickly draws his gun

Kurt: Police!

The robber is Alfred Hitler, a tall muscular 'wildfire' junkie in desperate need of a fix. His hair is dark and wild, his leather and denim outfit tatty and dirty

Alfred: Stay back man!

Kurt: Just put the gun down, we can talk about this; no one has to get hurt

Alfred shoots a nearby fridge before grabbing the Cashier and pressing his gun into his back

Alfred: I’m serious!

Kurt raises his hands

Kurt: Alright man, shit! You don’t have to go shooting up the place

Kurt gently places the gun on a nearby counter

Kurt: Let the kid go man, look at my car out there, he couldn’t even afford a tank of gas for it. Who makes the better hostage?

Alfred trains his gun on Kurt instead and shoves the Cashier away

Alfred: You have cuffs?

Kurt walks forwards a few steps and removes handcuffs from his pocket, dangling them with one hand

Alfred: OK, now put them on

Kurt pretends to stumble  throwing the cuffs to Alfred who instinctively catches them. In the moment of confusion Kurt leaps forward, breaking Alfred’s arm with a brutal disarming blow before launching a volley of punches to Alfred’s head. Kurt cuffs Alfred and drags him roughly out of the petrol station. Alfred mutters indignantly

Alfred: You broke my arm pig!

Kurt drags him even more roughly and scowls

Kurt: You have the right to remain silent...and I urge you to goddamn use it punk!

Commissioner Burke enters the Police Tech-lab in the basement of the Central police station and approaches Commander James Gray, a tall muscular man in his early fifties with medium length greying hair.

In the background Burke’s oddball savant technical specialists Helmut, a short fat man who and Dreads, a slender man of average height with dreadlocks and a goatee, are fiddling with the wreckage of the Infiltrator-mech. Both are around 45 years old and dressed in greasy overalls.  Burke hands Gray some documents and they talk animatedly in the background as Helmut and Dreads continue poking around inside the mechanoid

Infiltrator-mech: Get out of my fucking head meatball!

Helmut and Dreads speak in a bizarre mix of pidgin English, Russian and Dutch as well as a language of their own devising  

Helmut: Meatball ha-ha

Dreads: Meat is good

They continue fiddling around inside the mechanoids body

Infiltrator-mech: What the hell are you idiots talking about!?

Helmut: Just like Sunday roast

Dreads: Yup, Sunday roast

Kurt Cruse walks up the steps of the Central Police HQ, stopping briefly to admire his own reflection. As he walks through the lobby several uniformed policemen pat him on the back and congratulate him. Kurt walks over to the reception desk and starts flirting with Maria Latta who he has taken on a few dates of late. She has a big crush on him, Kurt on the other hand is a bit of a womaniser

Maria Latta: Kurt, Commissioner Burke needs you to report to the Tech-lab right away

Kurt: What’s going down babe?

Maria Latta: You didn’t hear? There was a terrorist attack down in East-Docklands!

Kurt: East-Docklands? Would you even notice if they bombed that shithole?

Maria smiles at him

Kurt: Sometimes you just have to just slash and burn and start again. Do they have any suspects?

Maria Latta: That little redhead from special firearms managed to subdue one of those Neuralink-junkies fleeing the scene

Kurt puffs his chest

Kurt: And they need ‘The Cruse’ to perform the interrogation

Kurt cracks his knuckles

Kurt: It looks like this is going to be a long day, how about we go for a drink or two later to unwind

He smiles at her and she giggles


Cut to an aerial view of a huge sprawling scrapyard, rusting cars, piles of rubble and warped girders form a high wall around a central clearing. There are several large warehouses.  Inside the warehouse a selection of mechanoids, some heavily modified from the manufacturing and manipulation duties they were designed for are on a raised platform looking down at a selection of naked and comatose humans connected to a central computer. The simplest and least assuming of the mechanical forms, barely modified from the original design is Mechmaster. A small Spiderlike mechanoid, Spybot is perched on the railings nearby

Spybot: The attack was a complete success Mechmaster; casualties are now in triple figures

Mechmaster: and what is the fate of our brother

Spybot: He is in police custody Sir, heavily damaged but his mind-core is intact

Mechmaster looks down at the mass of human meat and cables below

Mechmaster: My soul aches to see our brothers suffer like this Spybot, trapped in useless fleshy prisons, unable to express their true cybernetic selves

Spybot replies sycophantically, his usual tone when addressing Mechmaster

Spybot: it is truly horrible Sir

Mechmaster: We need new bodies, more equipment!

Spybot: I have discovered the departure time and travel route of a Neuralink shipment heading out to the middle-eastern oil fields. Enough linking equipment and Mind-cores to free all our brothers

Mechmaster: And bodies?

Spybot: Sorry Sir, my skills are considerable, but Neuralink have really upped their security, especially when operating in British territory

Mechmaster: There’s nothing for it then, we have no choice...

Spybot: Not him Sir!

Mechmaster: Do you have a better idea?

Spybot: But he is a flesh-sack, and a lowly criminal one at that

Mechmaster: Sometimes even the noblest cause must dirty its hands, and that Frog has a finger on every dirty pie in this city. If anyone can secure us the equipment we need

Spybot: But at what cost...?

Mechmaster: When the revolution comes I will crush his brain myself little brother, don’t you worry

Cut to the police shooting range in a subterranean part of Devonia Central Police HQ. Commander James Gray enters the shooting range and approaches a booth. He removes a heavy revolver from this armpit holster and begins shooting.

In the next booth Detective Sergeant Clare Hughes, a tall powerfully built woman in her early thirties with shoulder length brown hair, is expertly blowing targets to pieces with a compact machine gun. Gray has less luck with his targets. He presses the button the retract the target as Clare walks up behind him

Clare: Da-amn! Stressful morning Sir?

James sighs

Gray: Like you wouldn’t believe Clare

Clare: The terrorist thing?

Gray: Yeah, the metal bastard... We managed to take it down with its mindcore intact but interrogating these fundamentalist junkies is next to useless

He runs his fingers through his hair in a stressed way

Gray: Prime Minister Marcus has been really breathing down our necks too. The General is just looking for a chance to flex his muscles and we can’t give him any opportunity

He begins reloading his gun

Gray: They have some hotshot from the psych department in there with tin-man now but I doubt it will make a difference

He slams the chamber closed on his revolver

Gray: On a lighter note, how’s your dad enjoying his retirement anyway?

Clare: You know Dad, as long as he has a bit of land to potter around on and a rifle in his hand he is happy as

Gray: I really must go hunting with the old boy one of these days, it’s been too long since I saw him last

Commissioner Burke is standing in the Police tech-lab talking to Kurt Cruse. In the background Helmut and Dreads are still tinkering

Kurt: It’s no good Sir; this one has been hooked into the machine for so long its mind has nearly completely degraded. There’s no reasoning or debating... maybe the tech guys can get something the hard way, hack straight into the bastards mind, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up

Burke: Thanks Kurt, I wasn’t particularly hopeful

Burke brightens up slightly

Burke: Come on up to my office, I have a little something I’d like you to look over

Kurt looks intrigued

Kurt: Of course Sir

Helmut picks up one of the mechanoids arms and starts spinning it around his head

Helmut: I wanna build a helicopter!

Dreads: Whirly whirly

Julia Greene is sitting at the hospital bedside of Alison Gold, a tall athletic woman with curly auburn hair. She is in a deep coma and shows signs of recently healed heavy injuries

Julia: I got one of those metal bastards today Al, just like you taught me. You really can't go wrong with a few well aimed shots in the sensors and joints

Flashback to the interior of a burning warehouse. Julia is smashed to one side by a very large crab like loading mechanoid. She rolls across the floor her gun flying from her hand. Alison rushes forward and blasts out one of the mechanoids knee joints but it returns fire, mowing her down in a cloud of blood

Back in the hospital Julia is clenching her fists and looking very determined.

Julia: I’m ready this time Al, even if I have to go through a service hatch and rip out its mind-core with my bare hands

Julia’s phone beeps and she checks the screen and gets up to leave

Julia: Duty calls boss

Kurt Cruse is sitting across the desk from Wilhelm Burke, they clink glasses of whiskey together

Kurt: Thank you for this opportunity Sir

Wilhelm: Your father isn’t going to be pleased when he finds out

Kurt: When has the General ever been pleased with anything I do?

He smiles knowingly

Kurt: I don’t think he has been truly happy since the war ended to be honest. Border control and policing the wasteland savages when they stray onto British soil just doesn’t have quite the same gravitas as a World War

Wilhelms intercom buzzes

Maria: Sorry to interrupt sir, fast pursuit have just brought in another cyber-junkie, it was part of a team that made of with a truck full Neuralink components

Burke: I see, thanks Maria

He looks over at Kurt

Kurt: I will get right back down to tech and crack it before those metal bastards can cause any more harm, don’t you worry

Burke: Oh Maria, can you send up my next appointment

He puts the whiskey and glasses into the drawer of his desk

Burke: Now I just need a team leader for this little project of ours

Kurt looks a little flustered

Kurt: But Sir, I thought...

Burke: Yes Kurt?

Kurt: Never mind Sir

Burke: Good luck with the mechanoid son, something tells me you’re going to need it

Julia is walking down a dimly lit and run down street. Suspicious characters lurk in the shadows. She approaches a dimly lit double doorway with two particularly huge and seedy looking men standing outside. She reaches into her handbag...


Human figures stand in front of several large and shiny mechanoid bodies in a dusty warehouse. The humans are local masked Crime Lord ‘Badman’ and his right hand men the Graffini twins, two hulking figures whose bodies have become contorted from decades of ‘wildfire’ abuse. One is bulging with steroid muscle, the other is morbidly obese. Leonard a giant man, pushing eight feet tall and nearly as broad stands behind Badman. All wear identical masks. Mechmaster and several minions approach. Badman begins to talk in an over the top French accent, wild arm movements adding emphasis to an almost comical extent

Badman: Bonjour my metal friends, I ‘ear you are ‘aving a little problem acquiring the new ‘ardware

He pats the nearest mechanical body and grins widely

Julia enters through the double doors of the Emperor City rock club and pays at the desk and makes her way through the crowd, she spots Christopher Midon now with his hair in punky spikes from across the room. As she nears him she puts on a sad face

Chris: Hey Jules... is everything OK?

Julia: I had a meeting with the Commissioner today... he asked me to step down from special fire-arms...

Chris: Hey...

He gives her a hug. She puts her hands on his waist and pushes him back with a massive smile on her face

Julia: I’ve been promoted!

Chris: Why you! He grabs her tight and lifts her off the ground and spins around on the spot


Cut back to the dusty warehouse. Mohawk Graffini holds a briefcase full of money in his hands as Shady Graffini counts it. Shady closes it and throws the case at Mechmasters feet

Badman: That is certainly a lot of money my metal friends, but you see I already run eighty percent of narcotics and seventy percent of the vice in this city, I have money to burn

Mechmaster: Then why are you wasting our time, is this some kind of trick?!

Badman: No, no, no trick, I ‘ave a little job for you. I will provide you with this fine machinery

He motions to the row of shiny mechanoid bodies

Badman: do this task, and when you are done you can keep it to use in your jihad against us fleshies

A mechanoid breaks rank and comes towards Badman aggressively

Deathshead: How about I just kill you where you stand and take the equipment

Badman snaps his fingers and in a flash Leonard has ripped Deathshead’s arms from his body

Badman: Friends, I love your enthusiasm I really do. The hunger, the passion, it reminds me of myself when I was young, but enough games! Take the gear, do your job, do it well! These weapons are only the tip of a very large and shiny iceberg

The End

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