Starburst Jailbreak Part One

Connor made the Pinnacle chamber his first priority.

The doors slid open, allowing him just enough time to push his janitorial cart inside. He was glad to finally reach the place. Since he wanted to do such an in-depth job, he would stay until the end of his shift. Only a few people were let in at a time. Which meant no annoying bosses for the next few hours. Even better, he wouldn't lose anymore cash due to bad luck. The doors slammed shut and Connor threw himself down. He lay for few minutes, simply breathing.

After collecting himself, the scrapper looked up. Directly in front of him was the machine. A white metal cube with a giant black porthole cut out of the front. Lots of rivets and screws bolting the thing down. To the right of it was a small monitor extending from the ground. Connor didn't have a clue what the thing was. Didn't care either. Scientists only had to tell him once not to touch it. Connor Nineteen was a shining example of following orders so well, he faded into the background.

This was the only time he was going to break that rule.

As if on cue, his stomach rumbled. The scrapper grimaced and got to his feet. He had to start the show before pulling anything. After cleaning for a bit to get the chemicals on his person, he would rush for the breakroom. It was also where more stock was stored. If stopped, the scrapper could just claim he had run out. Then all he had to do was grab another bottle of disinfectant, somebody’s leftover sandwich, and head back into the chamber. After that, he was free to relax for another 8 hours.

Connor didn't feel an ounce of remorse for the poor suckers who left their lunches past closing. You had to realize you couldn't show any remorse in Center. Anything you left behind was considered lost. And the scrapper's stomach was certainly going to find it.

He kicked the cart into the corner. Taking a rag from it, he liberally sprayed the walls with disinfectant. Connor gagged at the stench. Of course Flynt sprang for the cheap stuff. Even after a couple months on duty, the noxious smell still bothered the scrapper. Not to mention what it was probably doing to his insides. Oh well. Couldn’t be any worse than a burger and fries almost every night. No kitchen meant no special lunches. In Center, hardly anybody had the time or wealth for a home cooked meal. The scrapper shook his head and returned to the present.

Eyes on the prize.

He wiped down the outside walls within a few minutes. Nobody was going to notice streaks in here. The big stupid thing in the middle drew every eye. It had to be important. Yet the scrapper knew if it was so important, he wouldn’t be able to even go near it. What sort of idiot would let a random worker be around such an important piece of equipment? And why did he suddenly care so much starting now?

Connor began to feel the hair on his neck rise. He continued to clean, but made sure to start keeping the machine in his peripheral. That was the CEO he bumped into earlier. And he had been headed out of here when they ran into each other. While Connor had only been here a couple weeks, that Suit would know his whole life. As such, he knew the scrapper wouldn’t be missed if he suddenly vanished.

Connor didn’t know what the machine in the middle of this chamber did. It might be some high tech vending machine. Or it could be a weapon or device that could be triggered remotely. The scrapper could find himself vaporized or have his brain fried by some microwave tech. And with a remote control, it would just look like a misfire. One dead janitor, one happy CEO.

Connor knew just how petty Suits got when you stood up to them.

His heart began to beat a little faster in his chest. It was a good idea to step up the pace. Before he had a chance to leave, it happened.

Connor heard the chamber speak.

"You'll do," a rumbling voice whispered.

Before the scrapper could do anything, a light blinded him. It was the brightest thing he had ever seen. Connor cursed and dropped to his knees. He groped aimlessly on the floor. Spots danced in front of the darkness of his eyelids. That was good. That meant he could still see. Connor peeled his eyes open to reveal no pain. Even better, no lasting effects. That meant whatever just happened wasn’t harmful in the long run.

That gave the scrapper confidence to show how he really felt.

“Whatever that was, it didn’t work,” Connor yelled. “Maybe you shouldn’t try outsourcing, you stupid Suit!”

An echo threw the comment back at him. The scrapper paused, waiting for a response. Nothing came. He couldn’t figure out if it truly was Flynt who had activated the pulse of light. Connor rose shakily to his feet. Looking down at his body, nothing had changed.

Then he felt his mecharm start to burn like it was on fire.

Connor raised it up and grabbed it with his human hand. No smoke, no grating sounds. The things shouldn’t have even phantom pain considering how cheap it was. But right now it felt as if he was dipping it into a puddle of lava. The scrapper cursed and pounded at it a few times.

The sensation faded to an annoying buzz. He knew he had to leave asap. Who knew what that thing had done to him. Better to just go hole up somewhere and wait it out. Knowing the Suits, they would blame Connor for causing a malfunction. Take the rest of his pay and boot him right out.

The scrapper was headed for the door when his whole world changed.

All the white tiles around him faded into black. Connor groaned and put his hands over his eyes. Looks like he had finally gone blind. That was what the machine was, a glorified flash bang. He turned to look back at where it was. He couldn’t help but gasp at the sight. Standing there was a figure radiating bright light. So bright, Connor had to shade his eyes.

“Huh,” was all he could say.

He watched as the glowing white light around the figure condensed, growing closer and closer to the thing casting it. Twin indigo pinpricks opened on the figure’s face. It was like looking into the sun times 1000. Just when Connor thought it couldn’t get any worse, the thing smiled at him. The figure then jerked as if in pain. All at once, the condensed light shot forward. 

Connor felt it wrap him up in a burning hot embrace. The scrapper screamed, but could only hear a loud roar. His body was racked with pain, electric eels writhing in his veins. His skull felt like it was stuffed with napalm. The mecharm seemed to become a shaft of white-hot metal sticking out of him. Somehow Connor remained upright. Yet felt like forever as the energy overwhelmed and made room within him.

Then it stopped as fast as a summer downpour.