This is The Orphan Rebels Part Ten.
They fought their way out of the Wheel Control Center, leaving a trail of sparking computers and unconscious security personnel behind them. The command ship's corridors were in chaos - alarms blaring, crew members scrambling to understand what had happened to their refining operation, traders and merchants rushing back to their ships on the docks.
"Griff, send the signal!" Brock shouted over the noise.
Griff pulled out his modified communication device and broadcast on all frequencies: "Attention all freed robots! You are no longer under control! Escape however you can! Commandeer ships, use your suit thrusters, whatever works! You're free!"
The response was immediate and overwhelming.
Through viewport windows as they ran, they could see hundreds of space-suited robots suddenly moving with purpose instead of mechanical precision. Some were flying toward the command ship's docking bays. Others were heading for the mining ships still attached to the refining wheels. A few were just using their suit thrusters to blast away into space, choosing the uncertainty of the void over continued slavery.
"It's working!" Alice reported, monitoring the communication channels. "The station is descending into complete chaos!"
"Good," Goldstrike said, leading them through a maintenance corridor that bypassed the main security checkpoints. "Chaos favors our objectives."
"Corporate reinforcement ships detected!" Servo announced, checking a wall-mounted monitor. "Three heavy cruisers approaching from the outer system. Estimated arrival: fourteen minutes."
"Then we have fourteen minutes to reach the vault, load what we can, and escape," Goldstrike calculated.
They ran faster.
Fighting to the Vault
The deeper they went into the command ship, the heavier the resistance became. These weren't just security patrols anymore - these were armored defense teams protecting the facility's most valuable asset.
"Explosive lasers!" Ripper warned, diving behind a bulkhead as explosive projectiles tore through the corridor.
"They're not worried about damaging their own ship?" Leesa asked, returning fire with her plasma pistols set to stun.
"They're more worried about losing the stellarite," Goldstrike replied. He moved with fluid precision, his gold armor absorbing hits while his integrated weapons took down targets with ruthless efficiency.
Poop was proving surprisingly effective in the tight corridors. His four arms allowed him to fire around corners, operate control panels, and physically fight all simultaneously. "Four arms is really awesome!" he announced, using three arms to hold back a security door while using the fourth to shoot through it.
"Less talking, more fighting!" Crusher rumbled, his heavy frame serving as mobile cover for the others. Crusher and Ripper were by now pocked with dents and burn marks from laser fire. Still going but damaged.
They fought through three more security checkpoints, each one more heavily defended than the last. The command ship's crew was clearly getting organized, coordinating their response despite the chaos happening throughout the station.
"Vault entrance ahead!" Alice called out, pointing to a massive reinforced door at the end of the corridor.
Five security officers in heavy armor were positioned in front of it, weapons charged and ready.
"Surrender now and you'll be treated fairly!" one of them shouted.
Goldstrike leaped over the others, slamming into the guards, knocking them back.
The fight was brief but intense. Goldstrike's combat systems made short work of the heavily armored guards, while the kids provided supporting fire. Within minutes, they stood before the vault door.
The Vault Breach
The vault entrance was impressive - a circular door three meters across, covered in biometric scanners, quantum encryption locks, and what looked like every security system ever invented.
"This is going to take forever!" Griff said, examining the security layers.
"No," Goldstrike corrected. "You have the access codes. I have combat override protocols. Together, we can breach it in approximately four minutes."
"Corporate ships arriving in nine minutes!" Servo updated.
"Then we work fast," Alice said, interfacing with the door's systems.
Griff pulled up the stolen access codes while Goldstrike physically connected to the vault's security grid, his systems running military-grade bypass protocols. Alice coordinated between them, her processing power helping decrypt the quantum encryption faster than either could manage alone.
"First layer bypassed," Griff reported.
"Second layer compromised," Goldstrike added.
Behind them, the sound of reinforcements approaching echoed through the corridor. Ripper, Crusher, Servo, and Leesa formed a defensive line, preparing for the next wave.
"Third layer... done!" Alice announced.
The massive vault door began to cycle open, its mechanisms grinding as multiple locking systems disengaged simultaneously. The circular door rolled aside, revealing what lay beyond.
"Oh wow," Griff breathed.
The vault was enormous - easily fifty meters deep and packed wall-to-wall with containers of refined stellarite. The processed fuel glowed with a steady yellow light, and there was enough here to power entire fleets for years.
"Millions," Goldstrike calculated, his optical sensors scanning the inventory. "More than sufficient for all our purposes."
"We can't carry all of this!" Brock protested.
"Take what you can carry.” Goldstrike said. Everyone but Leesa grabbed a hovering transport sled stacked high with crates of Stellarite.
"Incoming!" Leesa shouted from the corridor. Her weapons trained down the hall. She would provide covering fire for the group as they made their way back to the ship.
A massive wave of security forces was pushing toward the vault, determined to protect what remained of the facility's assets.
"Time to leave!" Brock ordered.
Return to Docking Bay
The fighting retreat back through the command ship was desperate and brutal. They were carrying valuable cargo, moving through enemy territory, with corporate reinforcements arriving any minute.
Goldstrike led the way, his combat systems clearing paths through security checkpoints. The kids followed, their robots protecting the flanks and rear. The hover sleds full of stellarite containers floated between them, worth more than some small planets.
Luckily the Command Ship had sent out tons of security to try and get the wheels back online and round up the now freed worker bots. This left the halls of the ship missing nearly half it’s security force.
"Docking bay ahead!" Servo called out.
They burst through the final security door into the docking bay where they'd left the Merchant's Purse—
And stopped.
Their ship was gone. Or rather, what was left of it was scattered across the docking bay in pieces. The hull had been torn apart by heavy weapons fire. The cargo hold was exposed and empty. The mech suits that had been stored inside were crushed and broken, their cockpit glass shattered and drilling arms twisted into useless scrap.
"No," Leesa whispered.
Command Ship guards had apparently identified their ship as the intruder and destroyed it and everything on it.
New guard bots were now securing the area, their red armor plates identifying them as heavy combat models, a new elite force that the company kept in reserve for moments like this. They turned toward the arriving group, weapons charging.
For a moment, nobody moved. The kids stared at the wreckage of their home, their base, their only safe place in the galaxy. Everything they'd built since escaping with Alice was just... gone.
Then Brock's expression hardened. "Take them down."
They cracked up their weapon intensity and let loose.
The fight was savage. The kids poured all their frustration and loss into the battle, their weapons tearing through the guard bots with relentless fury. Ripper and Crusher fought like they had nothing to lose anymore. Even Poop's usual cheerfulness was replaced with focused aggression.
Within minutes, the docking bay was clear. Smoking bot parts were scattered among the wreckage of the Merchant's Purse.
"My ship," Goldstrike said, gesturing to a sleek vessel docked in a nearby berth. His hunter craft was a thing of beauty - all smooth lines and efficient design, painted in dark colors with gold trim to match his armor. "Now. Or we don’t make it out."
They ran for Goldstrike's ship, loading the stellarite and themselves aboard. The interior was cramped compared to the Merchant's Purse - not designed for cargo. Once they pulled all the cargo on board there was little room to move around.
"This is cozy," Poop observed, his four arms taking up most of the cargo space.
"Corporate ships entering weapons range!" Alice warned from the co-pilot station.
"Then we leave," Goldstrike said, his hands moving over the controls.
The hunter ship launched from the docking bay at incredible speed, its engines far more powerful than anything the Merchant's Purse had possessed. They shot past fleeing robots in spacesuits, past commandeered mining ships full of freed workers, through the chaos of Gamma Station's collapse.
Corporate cruisers opened fire, but Goldstrike's piloting was masterful. He wove through the traffic of escaping vessels, using the refining wheels as cover, making their ship nearly impossible to target.
They broke away from Gamma Station, entering the outer system at speeds that would have torn apart a lesser ship.
Escape and New Beginning
In the cargo hold of Goldstrike's ship, sitting among containers of stolen stellarite worth millions, the kids were quiet.
Their home was gone. Their mechs were destroyed. Everything they'd built was floating in pieces in a docking bay thousands of miles behind them.
"I loved that ship," Griff said finally.
"And the mechs," Leesa added. "Those were... those were really cool."
Brock looked at the stellarite containers surrounding them. "Goldstrike's right. With this, we can buy a new ship. Better equipment. Start over."
"Is that what we're doing?" Leesa asked. "Starting over?"
From the cockpit, Goldstrike's voice carried back: "With the stellarite we stole, you can buy a new ship. Better equipment. Superior weapons. The loss, while unfortunate, is not strategically significant."
"Easy for you to say," Griff muttered. "You’ve still got a cool ship."
Silence fell again. Alice moved to sit with the kids, her presence a small comfort.
Then Goldstrike spoke again: "I've been analyzing future opportunities. Your skills combined with my resources and tactical capabilities... we would be considerably more effective as partners than as adversaries or individual operators."
The kids exchanged looks.
"What are you saying?" Brock asked.
"I'm saying there are more facilities. More robots requiring liberation. More profit to be made. More corporations that would pay substantial sums for our combined services." Goldstrike turned slightly in his pilot seat. "My processors predict we would be the most successful mercenary and liberation force in the galaxy if we aligned our operations."
"You want to team up permanently?" Leesa asked.
"I want to maximize profit and efficiency. You want to free robots. Our objectives are not incompatible. In fact, they're synergistic."
Brock looked at his friends, at Alice, at their robot companions who'd fought beside them through two facilities now. Then he looked at the wreckage of their old life scattered behind them in space.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked carefully.
"More mining facilities dot the edges of space that use stolen robots as labor. We can continue to free robots and take the stellarite. And entertain other jobs that may come our way."
Goldstrike brought up a holographic star map, highlighting dozens of potential targets.
"With your liberation network and my mercenary reputation, we could fund operations indefinitely. Free thousands of robots. And profit considerably in the process."
The kids looked at each other again. It was a risk. Goldstrike was ruthless, calculating, and worked purely for money. But he'd also just helped them free hundreds of robots and could have betrayed them a dozen times but hadn't.
Brock took a deep breath. They'd just lost everything. They were crammed in a bounty hunter's ship, dependent on someone who'd been hunting them days ago. They were wanted across multiple systems now, with corporate hit squads probably being assembled at this very moment.
But they'd also freed three mining facilities. Thousands of robots were free because of them. And with Goldstrike's resources and their determination, they could free even more.
Brock, Leesa, Griff, Alice, Servo, Crusher, Ripper… and Poop all looked to each other for a moment.
"Okay," Brock said. "Partners. But we're buying a bigger ship. This one's way too cramped."
"Agreed," Goldstrike said. "I've identified several vessels that would suit our requirements. We can acquire one at the next port."
Through the viewport, Gamma Station was now just a distant point of light. But the comm channels were full of chatter - freed robots coordinating escapes, some already organizing to hold the station, others scattering to start new lives.
Another victory. Another step forward.
And now, with an unlikely partnership forged in fire and stellarite theft, the Orphan Rebels were ready for whatever came next.
THE END