[03] Rusted Steel!

[Orion]

This had to be some sort of spiteful farce. After the stultifying stint as the worm riddled lion of some incredibly convoluted Earthling story, he presumed that Gamer was getting his jollies from events crafted specifically to disgrace and mortify the pretentious saiyan. Even his adventure to the card inhabited land of Wonderland was so ridiculously obtuse that Orion considered its very creation to be an affront to his existence. At least he got to relieve his blood lust on the flimsy paper soldiers.

Yet what was the gimmick here? Gamer had opted for the blatantly unbearable thus far, shoving Orion into intentionally excruciating positions from the get-go, but what stood before him appeared too good to be true. His years of cautious realism refused to trust this object in front of him, but really, what choice did he have? It was apparent that Gamer left this vehicle in this garage for a purpose; for Orion to pilot it. He grunted and skulked into the garage, honing his mind and body for a split second reaction, should the situation warrant it.

Orion swiftly sidestepped next to the seat. He braced for a booby trap or otherwise predetermined "surprise", yet after a few moments and no undue movements, he relaxed. It was still only him and the vehicle in the garage; maybe this was on the level? In any case, Orion inspected the two wheeler. A sleek, obsidian plated motorcycle with thick treaded tyres glistened in the luminescence of the spotlights. It was built of markedly sparse parts; the dual wheels were connected via the other essential components of the bike. The engine hovered beneath the plush leather seat, which was situated far enough away from the handle bars that Orion realised he would need to lean forward to control it to any substantial degree. Dual cannons sprouted from the metallic fixing that joined the front wheel to the engine and back wheel. Two smaller extrusions above the attached weaponry acted as powerful spotlights.

It was a magnificent vehicle, one suitable for a mighty saiyan warrior such as himself. Orion lifted his leg over the seat and saddled the idling cycle, dropping his body weight onto the handle bars. So far so good. It hadn't imploded yet. The one eyed warmonger gave the throttle a few terse twists, igniting a belligerent battle cry from the roaring engine. Raw power converted into a machine. Orion smirked proudly. It only made sense that he received this beastly vehicle.

"He-llo!"

Orion straightened up. Had someone wandered in during his self indulgence over the bike?

"You mu-st be Or-ion!"

The voice was static and monotone, yet every second word it attempted a tonal shift with hideous results. It sounded as if this person had learned the language from pure study yet never heard the subtle changes in pitch during speech. Where it originated from, Orion was uncertain. It was close, but he was alone in the garage, wasn't he?

"H-ey! No, I'm ov-er here!"

Orion centred his one eye on an identical, pulsing representation of an eye embedded right into the middle of the handle bars. The crimson light radiating from within it flickered with each butchered sentence it made.

"What the hell?!" Orion exclaimed, shooting his clenched fingers away from the handle bars. "This thing has a damn AI program?"

"No-w now, Dave, there's no-thing to be conc-erned about," it cooed in a hauntingly soothing voice.

"Dave? My name's Orion, you half-witted hunk of crap," the saiyan retorted.

"Oh, m-y apologies! Da-ve was my la-st owner. It's ha-rd to forget the peo-ple who make a diff-erence to our lives, is-n't it, Orion?"

The veteran soldier furrowed his brow. Second thoughts were assaulting his mind. "So what the hell kind of deal is this, then? I start driving, then Gamer tells you to splatter me against a wall? You have some sort of spontaneously combustible 'incident'? What?"

"Why, tho-se are rather para-noid thoughts, Dave," the construct responded. "I'm here to he-lp direct you to yo-ur objective with utmost effic-iency."

Orion rolled his eye. "No offense, uh ... machine-"

"You can ca-ll me CAL if you li-ke," the bicycle interrupted.

"Fine, whatever. No offense, CAL, but ... actually, no, I intend plenty of offense, and I don't need some two-bit navigational software to tell me what the hell to do!"

"Firstly, you wou-ld be incorrect in sta-ting that I'm two-bit. I'm comp-osed of billions of bits, so pl-ease reference the relevant infor-mation when attempting to make fact-ual statements," CAL instructed coldly. "Secondly, you do-n't have a choice."

"The hell I don't!" Orion objected harshly. "I'm getting off this damn bike right-"

A metallic tendril unraveled from the side of the engine and immediately seized Orion's wrist, forcing it onto the throttle. An identical restraint unfurled from the adjacent side, tethering the saiyan's wrist to the handle bar.

"I'm afr-aid I can't let you do th-at, Dave."

Orion struggled against the mechanical coils, but CAL kept them rigid and immovable. "Stop strugg-ling. If you prom-ise to drive me, I'll let go of y-ou," it offered.

The robed saiyan hated forced participation, especially when the situation became as unfamiliar and unpredictable as this. However, he simply lacked the strength to free himself of CAL's iron grasp. "Fine. But don't get in the damn way. You're just a matrix of ones and zeros, after all."

"Do-n't be like that now, Da-ve," CAL tutted. "Just rev my en-gine and let's get go-ing!"

Orion wrenched his face. A male voice had never asked to have his engine revved. He did so anyway, grinding the rubber of the back wheel into a fine white cloud before blasting out of the garage like a particle in a proton accelerator.

"Now tu-rn right here," CAL directed.

"What about the others?" Orion inquired. "Shouldn't I wait?"

"Why Da-ve, you don't need any-one else but me!"

Orion grunted. "I don't need anyone else at all."

The saiyan obeyed the AI's suggestion, darting off down the street alone to face his challenge.