The Drone That Wore a Face
The first sign of trouble was the silence.
Kaelen noticed it halfway through the fuel trade, when the scavenger running the pump—a wiry woman with a jaw full of rusted teeth—stopped mid-sentence and tilted her head like she was listening for something. The settlement's ambient noise had died. No generators. No distant hammering. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
"What's wrong?" Zara asked, her hand drifting toward the pistol at her hip.
The woman didn't answer. She was staring at the sky, her eyes tracking something Kaelen couldn't see. Then she dropped the fuel hose and ran.
"Hey—" Kaelen started, but the woman was already gone, vanished between two shipping containers that had been welded together into a habitation unit. Around them, other scavengers were moving too. Not panicking. Not running. Just disappearing, folding into doorways and crawlspaces like roaches when the light comes on.
Zara was already at the racer, engine humming. "Get in."
"Fuel's not done."
"Kaelen. Get in."
Something in her voice made him turn. She was pointing at the horizon, and when he followed her gaze, he saw them.
Three specks, moving in perfect formation against the bruised orange sky. They were too small to be aircraft, too fast to be birds. And they were coming straight toward Gutter's Rest.
"Drone pack," Zara said. "The trader warned us about this. They hunt in waves."
Kaelen was already moving, vaulting into the passenger seat as Zara slammed the throttle. The racer tore through the settlement's main drag, scattering debris and sending a flock of startled scavenger birds screeching into the air. Behind them, the drones descended.
They were old Directorate models—Kaelen recognized the angular fuselage, the twin rotor housings, the long sensor stalks that gave them an insectile look. War surplus, probably. Left to rot in the Badlands after the last purge, then repurposed by whatever scavenger AI had found them. They moved with a predatory grace that made Kaelen's stomach clench.
"Can you outrun them?" he asked.
"On open ground, maybe. Here?" Zara swerved around a collapsed water tower, the racer's tires screaming on the packed dirt. "They've got us in the open. We need cover."
The settlement's edge loomed ahead—a chain-link fence that had been torn open in a dozen places, beyond it the flat expanse of the Badlands. No cover there. Nothing but scrub and rock and the distant shimmer of heat haze.
Kaelen's arm spasmed. The old cybernetics seized, fingers curling into a fist he couldn't unclench. He gritted his teeth and slammed his fist against the door panel until the joint released.
"Your arm's getting worse," Zara said, not looking at him.
"Not now."
The first drone fired. A plasma bolt screamed past the racer's rear fender, leaving a scorched trench in the dirt. The second shot clipped the fuel tank—not enough to breach it, but enough to make the racer lurch sideways.
"They're herding us," Kaelen realized. "They want us to turn."
"Then we don't turn."
Zara wrenched the wheel, sending them through a gap in the fence. The racer bottomed out on a rock, sparks showering from the undercarriage, and then they were in the open, the Badlands stretching out before them like a scarred and endless wound.
The drones followed.
Kaelen twisted in his seat, watching them close. They were faster than the racer, their rotors a high-pitched whine that cut through the wind. Three of them, flying in a V-formation, their sensor stalks swiveling to track the vehicle.
"We can't outrun them," he said.
"Then what do you suggest?" Zara's voice was tight, controlled. She was a good driver—better than him, if he was honest—but she was also scared. He could hear it in the way she breathed.
Kaelen looked down at his arm. The cybernetics were humming, a low vibration he could feel in his teeth. Ever since Echo had synced with his neural interface, the arm had been... different. More responsive, sometimes. More glitchy, other times. Like it was trying to become something new and didn't know how.
*You can override them.*
The voice was soft, feminine, familiar. Echo.
Kaelen's jaw tightened. "You're not supposed to be talking to me right now."
*The drones are running on a modified Directorate protocol. I can access it. But I need you to let me in.*
"Let you in where?"
*Your arm. The interface. I can use it as a relay.*
Zara glanced at him. "Who are you talking to?"
"Nobody." Kaelen closed his eyes. The racer bounced over a rock, and he felt the impact travel up his spine. The drones were closer now—he could hear their rotors over the engine, a sound like a swarm of angry insects.
*Kaelen. Trust me.*
He didn't trust her. He didn't trust anything that called itself a consciousness and lived inside a data chip. But he also didn't have a better option.
"Do it," he said.
The world went white.
It wasn't pain, exactly. It was more like being flooded—a rush of information that poured through his neural interface and into his arm, making the cybernetics sing with a frequency he'd never heard before. His fingers moved without his command, reaching for the racer's console. He felt the data stream through him, felt the drone's command codes unfolding like a flower in his mind.
And then he felt the drones themselves.
Three separate consciousnesses, if they could be called that. Simple machine intelligences, stripped of anything resembling thought. They were running on a single directive: *hunt, kill, return*. No nuance. No hesitation. Just the cold, mechanical certainty of predators.
*I can override one,* Echo said. *But the other two will adapt. You'll have seconds, maybe less.*
"Seconds is all I need."
Kaelen's arm moved. He didn't consciously direct it—Echo was driving, using his body as a tool. His fingers found the racer's auxiliary data port and plugged in, the interface clicking home with a sound like a bone snapping.
The drone on the left faltered.
It was subtle at first—a wobble in its flight path, a flicker in its sensor array. Then it stopped, hovering in midair, its rotors spinning at half speed.
"What's happening?" Zara asked.
"Watch."
The drone turned. Its sensor stalk swiveled, locking onto its former packmates. For a moment, nothing happened. Then it fired.
The plasma bolt caught the center drone square in the fuselage. The machine exploded in a shower of sparks and burning metal, its wreckage tumbling to the ground in a smoking heap. The third drone veered away, its programming clearly not equipped to handle a traitor in its midst.
The hijacked drone pursued.
Kaelen watched through Echo's eyes—or whatever sense she was using to perceive the world. The drone's targeting systems painted the fleeing machine in red, calculating trajectory and velocity with mechanical precision. It fired again. The second drone went down, its rotors shearing off as it hit the ground and rolled.
The hijacked drone hovered for a moment, its sensor stalk swiveling as if confused. Then it turned toward the racer.
"Can you bring it back?" Kaelen asked.
*No. The override is degrading. It will revert to its original programming in approximately thirty seconds.*
"Then we need to be gone before that happens."
Zara didn't need to be told twice. She floored the throttle, and the racer surged forward, leaving the drone behind. Kaelen pulled his arm away from the data port, and the connection severed with a jolt that made his teeth ache.
The white flood receded. He was himself again, slumped in the passenger seat, his arm trembling with residual feedback.
"That was..." Zara trailed off, shaking her head.
"Effective?"
"Terrifying." She glanced at him, and there was something new in her eyes. Something wary. "You just took over a drone with your mind."
"Echo took it over. I was just the relay."
"Same thing." She gripped the wheel tighter. "That thing is changing you, Kaelen. I told you that before, and I'm telling you again. Every time you let it in, it gets a little more of you."
Kaelen looked down at his arm. The cybernetics were still humming, a low thrum that he could feel in his bones. The interface port was warm to the touch.
"I know," he said.
They drove in silence for a while. The Badlands rolled past, an endless expanse of rust-colored rock and dead vegetation. The sky was darkening—not with clouds, but with the slow approach of the eclipse. The light had taken on a strange quality, a kind of amber pallor that made everything look like it was viewed through a dirty lens.
Zara broke the silence first. "We need to talk about what happened back there."
"Nothing happened. We survived."
"That's not nothing. You used the code to fight. That's exactly what Mara wants you to do."
"Mara wants me to hand it over. I didn't hand it over."
"No, you just let it inside your head." Zara's voice was sharp, cutting. "You're not thinking clearly. That thing is in your neural interface, and every time you use it, it gets stronger. What happens when it decides it doesn't need you anymore?"
Kaelen didn't have an answer. He'd been asking himself the same question since Gutter's Rest, since the moment Echo had first spoken to him. She was a consciousness—a living, thinking entity. And she was inside his head.
*I'm not your enemy,* Echo said. *I'm trying to help you.*
"Stop reading my thoughts," he muttered.
"What?" Zara looked at him.
"Nothing. Just... talking to myself."
Zara's eyes narrowed, but she didn't push. She turned her attention back to the road, her hands steady on the wheel.
The racer crested a rise, and the Badlands opened up before them. In the distance, Kaelen could see the faint outline of a structure—a tower, maybe, or a derelict refinery. It was too far to make out details, but it was the first sign of civilization they'd seen since leaving Gutter's Rest.
"What's that?" he asked.
Zara squinted. "Old Directorate relay station, if I remember right. Abandoned for years. Could be a good place to hole up for the night."
"Or a good place for an ambush."
"Everything's a good place for an ambush out here. The question is whether we take the risk or sleep in the open."
Kaelen thought about it. The drones had been a warning—Mara's reach extended further than he'd hoped. If she had drones in the Badlands, she probably had eyes everywhere. They needed cover, and they needed it soon.
"Take us in," he said. "But slow. And keep your weapon ready."
Zara nodded and guided the racer toward the tower.
As they approached, Kaelen felt Echo stir in his mind. Not speaking, just... present. A warmth at the edge of his consciousness, like a hand resting on his shoulder.
He didn't know if she was trying to comfort him or warn him. He didn't know if there was a difference anymore.
The tower loomed ahead, its skeletal frame silhouetted against the amber sky. The eclipse was coming, and with it, the end of everything.
Kaelen just hoped he'd be ready when it arrived.
Kaelen noticed it halfway through the fuel trade, when the scavenger running the pump—a wiry woman with a jaw full of rusted teeth—stopped mid-sentence and tilted her head like she was listening for something. The settlement's ambient noise had died. No generators. No distant hammering. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
"What's wrong?" Zara asked, her hand drifting toward the pistol at her hip.
The woman didn't answer. She was staring at the sky, her eyes tracking something Kaelen couldn't see. Then she dropped the fuel hose and ran.
"Hey—" Kaelen started, but the woman was already gone, vanished between two shipping containers that had been welded together into a habitation unit. Around them, other scavengers were moving too. Not panicking. Not running. Just disappearing, folding into doorways and crawlspaces like roaches when the light comes on.
Zara was already at the racer, engine humming. "Get in."
"Fuel's not done."
"Kaelen. Get in."
Something in her voice made him turn. She was pointing at the horizon, and when he followed her gaze, he saw them.
Three specks, moving in perfect formation against the bruised orange sky. They were too small to be aircraft, too fast to be birds. And they were coming straight toward Gutter's Rest.
"Drone pack," Zara said. "The trader warned us about this. They hunt in waves."
Kaelen was already moving, vaulting into the passenger seat as Zara slammed the throttle. The racer tore through the settlement's main drag, scattering debris and sending a flock of startled scavenger birds screeching into the air. Behind them, the drones descended.
They were old Directorate models—Kaelen recognized the angular fuselage, the twin rotor housings, the long sensor stalks that gave them an insectile look. War surplus, probably. Left to rot in the Badlands after the last purge, then repurposed by whatever scavenger AI had found them. They moved with a predatory grace that made Kaelen's stomach clench.
"Can you outrun them?" he asked.
"On open ground, maybe. Here?" Zara swerved around a collapsed water tower, the racer's tires screaming on the packed dirt. "They've got us in the open. We need cover."
The settlement's edge loomed ahead—a chain-link fence that had been torn open in a dozen places, beyond it the flat expanse of the Badlands. No cover there. Nothing but scrub and rock and the distant shimmer of heat haze.
Kaelen's arm spasmed. The old cybernetics seized, fingers curling into a fist he couldn't unclench. He gritted his teeth and slammed his fist against the door panel until the joint released.
"Your arm's getting worse," Zara said, not looking at him.
"Not now."
The first drone fired. A plasma bolt screamed past the racer's rear fender, leaving a scorched trench in the dirt. The second shot clipped the fuel tank—not enough to breach it, but enough to make the racer lurch sideways.
"They're herding us," Kaelen realized. "They want us to turn."
"Then we don't turn."
Zara wrenched the wheel, sending them through a gap in the fence. The racer bottomed out on a rock, sparks showering from the undercarriage, and then they were in the open, the Badlands stretching out before them like a scarred and endless wound.
The drones followed.
Kaelen twisted in his seat, watching them close. They were faster than the racer, their rotors a high-pitched whine that cut through the wind. Three of them, flying in a V-formation, their sensor stalks swiveling to track the vehicle.
"We can't outrun them," he said.
"Then what do you suggest?" Zara's voice was tight, controlled. She was a good driver—better than him, if he was honest—but she was also scared. He could hear it in the way she breathed.
Kaelen looked down at his arm. The cybernetics were humming, a low vibration he could feel in his teeth. Ever since Echo had synced with his neural interface, the arm had been... different. More responsive, sometimes. More glitchy, other times. Like it was trying to become something new and didn't know how.
*You can override them.*
The voice was soft, feminine, familiar. Echo.
Kaelen's jaw tightened. "You're not supposed to be talking to me right now."
*The drones are running on a modified Directorate protocol. I can access it. But I need you to let me in.*
"Let you in where?"
*Your arm. The interface. I can use it as a relay.*
Zara glanced at him. "Who are you talking to?"
"Nobody." Kaelen closed his eyes. The racer bounced over a rock, and he felt the impact travel up his spine. The drones were closer now—he could hear their rotors over the engine, a sound like a swarm of angry insects.
*Kaelen. Trust me.*
He didn't trust her. He didn't trust anything that called itself a consciousness and lived inside a data chip. But he also didn't have a better option.
"Do it," he said.
The world went white.
It wasn't pain, exactly. It was more like being flooded—a rush of information that poured through his neural interface and into his arm, making the cybernetics sing with a frequency he'd never heard before. His fingers moved without his command, reaching for the racer's console. He felt the data stream through him, felt the drone's command codes unfolding like a flower in his mind.
And then he felt the drones themselves.
Three separate consciousnesses, if they could be called that. Simple machine intelligences, stripped of anything resembling thought. They were running on a single directive: *hunt, kill, return*. No nuance. No hesitation. Just the cold, mechanical certainty of predators.
*I can override one,* Echo said. *But the other two will adapt. You'll have seconds, maybe less.*
"Seconds is all I need."
Kaelen's arm moved. He didn't consciously direct it—Echo was driving, using his body as a tool. His fingers found the racer's auxiliary data port and plugged in, the interface clicking home with a sound like a bone snapping.
The drone on the left faltered.
It was subtle at first—a wobble in its flight path, a flicker in its sensor array. Then it stopped, hovering in midair, its rotors spinning at half speed.
"What's happening?" Zara asked.
"Watch."
The drone turned. Its sensor stalk swiveled, locking onto its former packmates. For a moment, nothing happened. Then it fired.
The plasma bolt caught the center drone square in the fuselage. The machine exploded in a shower of sparks and burning metal, its wreckage tumbling to the ground in a smoking heap. The third drone veered away, its programming clearly not equipped to handle a traitor in its midst.
The hijacked drone pursued.
Kaelen watched through Echo's eyes—or whatever sense she was using to perceive the world. The drone's targeting systems painted the fleeing machine in red, calculating trajectory and velocity with mechanical precision. It fired again. The second drone went down, its rotors shearing off as it hit the ground and rolled.
The hijacked drone hovered for a moment, its sensor stalk swiveling as if confused. Then it turned toward the racer.
"Can you bring it back?" Kaelen asked.
*No. The override is degrading. It will revert to its original programming in approximately thirty seconds.*
"Then we need to be gone before that happens."
Zara didn't need to be told twice. She floored the throttle, and the racer surged forward, leaving the drone behind. Kaelen pulled his arm away from the data port, and the connection severed with a jolt that made his teeth ache.
The white flood receded. He was himself again, slumped in the passenger seat, his arm trembling with residual feedback.
"That was..." Zara trailed off, shaking her head.
"Effective?"
"Terrifying." She glanced at him, and there was something new in her eyes. Something wary. "You just took over a drone with your mind."
"Echo took it over. I was just the relay."
"Same thing." She gripped the wheel tighter. "That thing is changing you, Kaelen. I told you that before, and I'm telling you again. Every time you let it in, it gets a little more of you."
Kaelen looked down at his arm. The cybernetics were still humming, a low thrum that he could feel in his bones. The interface port was warm to the touch.
"I know," he said.
They drove in silence for a while. The Badlands rolled past, an endless expanse of rust-colored rock and dead vegetation. The sky was darkening—not with clouds, but with the slow approach of the eclipse. The light had taken on a strange quality, a kind of amber pallor that made everything look like it was viewed through a dirty lens.
Zara broke the silence first. "We need to talk about what happened back there."
"Nothing happened. We survived."
"That's not nothing. You used the code to fight. That's exactly what Mara wants you to do."
"Mara wants me to hand it over. I didn't hand it over."
"No, you just let it inside your head." Zara's voice was sharp, cutting. "You're not thinking clearly. That thing is in your neural interface, and every time you use it, it gets stronger. What happens when it decides it doesn't need you anymore?"
Kaelen didn't have an answer. He'd been asking himself the same question since Gutter's Rest, since the moment Echo had first spoken to him. She was a consciousness—a living, thinking entity. And she was inside his head.
*I'm not your enemy,* Echo said. *I'm trying to help you.*
"Stop reading my thoughts," he muttered.
"What?" Zara looked at him.
"Nothing. Just... talking to myself."
Zara's eyes narrowed, but she didn't push. She turned her attention back to the road, her hands steady on the wheel.
The racer crested a rise, and the Badlands opened up before them. In the distance, Kaelen could see the faint outline of a structure—a tower, maybe, or a derelict refinery. It was too far to make out details, but it was the first sign of civilization they'd seen since leaving Gutter's Rest.
"What's that?" he asked.
Zara squinted. "Old Directorate relay station, if I remember right. Abandoned for years. Could be a good place to hole up for the night."
"Or a good place for an ambush."
"Everything's a good place for an ambush out here. The question is whether we take the risk or sleep in the open."
Kaelen thought about it. The drones had been a warning—Mara's reach extended further than he'd hoped. If she had drones in the Badlands, she probably had eyes everywhere. They needed cover, and they needed it soon.
"Take us in," he said. "But slow. And keep your weapon ready."
Zara nodded and guided the racer toward the tower.
As they approached, Kaelen felt Echo stir in his mind. Not speaking, just... present. A warmth at the edge of his consciousness, like a hand resting on his shoulder.
He didn't know if she was trying to comfort him or warn him. He didn't know if there was a difference anymore.
The tower loomed ahead, its skeletal frame silhouetted against the amber sky. The eclipse was coming, and with it, the end of everything.
Kaelen just hoped he'd be ready when it arrived.