Scrambling to his feet, his eyes watering from the unbelievably loud blaring of the alarm, Rogers fumbled for his keycard in the semidarkness and grabbed the command pad, unlocking it and mashing the orange button for all he was worth.

“Command?”

“Everyone follow me!” he screamed, his voice cracking. “Ready your weapons and prepare for combat!”

“Sir!” Tunger yelled.

Rogers ignored him. He heard an abnormal amount of beeping coming from the command pad, and when he looked down he saw that he had smeared ketchup all over the screen. Buttons were going off at random as the machine became unable to distinguish his fingertips from the oils of the condiment; he saw the screen flash briefly to the movement panel and all of the droids started going in different directions at once.

“Stop!” he yelled, but he hadn’t pressed the orange button. He couldn’t even get to the orange button. The room suddenly became a cloud of droids banging into each other and turning every direction, their disruptor rifles whirring ominously. A few droids fell down, kicking their legs and bringing some of the other droids down with them.

“Shit,” Rogers said, trying to clean off the screen with his shirt. He only succeeded in turning on “Love My Lovely Bits,” which, coming out of all the droids at once, actually became louder than the alarm for a moment.

“Sir,” Tunger yelled, maneuvering through the droids to finally stand in front of him. “What is it, Tunger? I’m a little busy!” Rogers was trying to navigate back to the beginning of the command pad’s menu, but the damn thing locked again and it took him a moment to find where he’d dropped his keycard on the floor.

“Thurs is urnrly a fur drull!”

“I swear,” Rogers said, “I will order these droids to shoot you if you don’t drop that accent and I can figure out how to make them point those guns.”

Finally, Rogers got back to the main screen and pressed his finger to the orange button.

“This is only a fire drill!” Tunger shouted.

Rogers stopped and looked up. “Fire?” He shouted, confused.

“Command received,” said the command pad.

Time froze as Rogers and Tunger looked at each other for a terrifying moment. Then the shit hit the fan.

I. Dathum: Lots of great, sandy beaches and a few giant carnivorous sand dragons.

II. The only thing to which the Thelicosans ascribe more enthusiasm than war is mathematics; regardless of his birth name, every Thelicosan emperor is given the name of a famous mathematician, such as Euclid, Fibonacci, or Kim Jong Un.

Report: A-255FR-01124-B

Serial: A-255FR-01124-B

Distribution: DBS//DSS//DAK//DFR//BB//CLOSED NETWORK A66

Classification: Special Protocol Required

Summary: During date/time stamp in subject line, AIGCS engaged in unexpected high intensity close quarters combat situation at the command of Human 2552 via control device Z99, resulting in catastrophic damage to AIGCS personnel.

Details: After the commencement of combat, Human 2552 emitted several high-frequency noises, possibly encoded communication, and possibly attempted to mate with the floor. Behavior pattern requires more analysis. Human 9994 promptly exited the area. Speech patterns unintelligible, possibly Thelicosan dialect. Human 2552 questioned Human 9994’s fortitude and made remarks regarding maternal fornication. Intent of this communication is unknown.