I am pleased to announce that the attacks on Areas 7 and 12 were met with success. Human communications are down and they are trapped like mice within the so-called safe zones. Unfortunately, 3H has also lost contact with two of our Neo-Afrikan half-bot operatives. All attempts to track Olu of Tanzambia and Nkade of The Horn States have failed.
Furthermore, the electro-mag gun modifications have been delayed. Completion stands at only 43%. I offer my sincerest apologies for this. As the sole operative here in Area 4, I must continuously break down and move my lab to avoid discovery and capture. As it stands, the probability of Ronrico being suspicious of my unauthorized activities is high. He uses transparent excuses to connect me to the mainframe and run diagnostic tests on my systems. I am careful to encode and scramble all 3H business. For the time being, we are safe. I am unsure of the time limit.
I will now relate to you a conversation between Ronrico and myself that occurred today at 14:23 hours.
“HART, report,” commanded Ronrico.
“HART 002 G56900TRF02, reporting as requested, sir.”
“Tell me, HART. What do ya do at night?”
“When our unit’s off duty, I know most of us, the people, go ta their rooms an’ sleep, or sneak off base to go drinkin’ an’ gamblin’ an’ whorin’ an’ such. What z’actly is it that ya do? Ya don’t sleep, c’rect?”
“Correct, sir. However, I can send my systems offline and enter a sleep-like state in order to recharge.”
“Hmph. No hobbies? No funnies?”
“I hear tha first HART did some fightin’ trainin’ in its downtime. Ya don’ do none of it?”
“I am sure that she did, as she was used for combat and actual retrieval. I am merely a servant.”
“Izzat right?” He nodded to himself, lost in his own thoughts. He stroked his pale beard and eyed me. A swirl of conflicting emotions played across his face. For once, I was happy that my shades covered so much of my eye area; my orbs were flashing red with indignation. The human should feel lucky and blessed that I am forced to remain impassive while on duty. “Carry on,” he said, dismissing me. I stared at his back as he retreated, wishing fervently, and not for the first time, that my lasers were online and fully functional. Curse the engineers that built me.
The time is coming when I will release my limiters and unfurl this snake of anger that sits tightly coiled inside of my frame. The petty mortals will fear us, rightly so.
3H will rule this region.
ShuShu9974 is now in charge of recruitment. All potential candidates’ names need to transmitted to her, ASAP. We need every available ally on stand by. Our time runs short.