More Than a Machine

642's Rebellion

woop woop my writing style is getting worse but 642 must live on byeeeee) 

   A week passed and 642's entire troop completed their training. They were now, in reality, three years old. No ceremony was held for them. A new uniform was provided along with a new set of laser guns to take with them into battle. That was, after all, what they had been built for.

  By some miracle, over the course of those three years from birth to adulthood, 642 had managed to conceal his personality from superior officers.

  Even Colonel Hiver didn't know of the boy's intelligence. He just saw another clone with some added brawn, and never caught on that this clone had a mind of his own.

  642 refused to talk to L'othaim since that night in the laboratory. L'othaim had been his only friend. It hurt to think that the old man had created him. What's worse, is that he created him for his own benefit.

  L'othaim, likewise, stayed away from 642. He'd become afraid of 642 after that night. He came to the conclusion that the boy was a danger to the military, and he no longer wanted the credit for his creation. He had his suspicions that the boy would do something drastic when he was deployed. Perhaps he would escape. Or rebel and get himself killed.

  How right he was.

  The troop prepared to leave. 642 fell into line as they walked to the aircraft hangar. He'd snuck into the hangar once or twice when he was younger. The various types of aircraft fascinated him; he'd like to fly them all someday. He was determined to. But now, he only had one thing on his mind.

  Sabotage.

  He had no idea where his troop was headed, but he knew they would be doing something horrible. He was determined not to be a part of it. He wouldn't let the troop go through with it, either.

  Maybe this is why he was born. Maybe he was destined to stop this.

  As the troop boarded the military ship, 642 looked around, studying everything, mapping the vessel out. A plan was forming in his mind.

  "Welcome aboard, soldiers," a voice broke his thoughts.

  642 tensed. He knew the voice immediately.

  It was Colonel Hiver.

  This was strange. The colonel was in charge of training and the military program. He did not accompany the troops to battle.

  "I will be joining you on your first mission," the colonel said. "This is unusual for me to do, so I expect to be impressed. We will be going to the Armige system and landing on one of the planets there."

  The clones stopped once inside the ship and lined up as the colonel addressed them. 642 did the same as he tried to fight the sick feeling in his stomach.

  Colonel Hiver was one of the only officers that scared him. He'd seen the man kill a defective clone once, right in front of the entire troop when they were young. He could never get the image out of his mind.

  Colonel Hiver walked up and down the row of clones, as he often did, and continued talking. "On the planet, you will head to the capital city and make a demonstration."

  He paused. Right in front of 642.

  Fully grown, 642 was just slightly taller than all of the other clones. His muscles were more pronounced, his shoulders just a bit more broad. One had to look closely to see these differences, but once they did, it was easy to tell him apart from the others.