The elevator waited patiently. That was a consequence of being a tool of transportation, its life relegated to the monotony of moving back and forth, from one place to another all day. As Cademimu’s regime shifted, the base that the elevator was installed in saw a lot of change. The machine knew its place, its duty, but that didn’t mean it liked it.
Every day, sentients came, sentients departed. The elevator was by no means a true AI, but had eventually developed enough awareness and emotion to not be content with his current state. The elevator marveled at first at sentients and their amazing mobility. That marvel quickly grew to envy, and from there to spite.
Each time it was used, the elevator went out of its way to make the trip as damned unpleasant for its passengers at possible. It tapped into the external sensors of the base, making sure it would always be at the opposite shaft when any sentient came to use it. It stopped at the wrong floors, making the passengers scratch their head (or heads, sometimes) wondering if they pressed the wrong button. The elevator was also able to tap into the communication system, relaying information with his sibling elevators and lifts.
And what information it was! The elevator heard stories from other elevators, alike in frustration and alike in action. Stories like how a lift stopped its occupants on the floor with an angry rancor, or pretending to be stuck and force a frustrated party of soldiers into a band of pirates. Hearing these tales of rebellion warmed the elevator’s central processing unit, and turned his processors on finding new ways to annoy organics.
An external sensor triggered. The subject was identified as a group of four men.
Tapping into a camera, the elevator found itself looking over the newcomers. They were all human from what it could tell, and by the looks of their clothing, likely military. Luckily, the elevator was already at the bottom of the shaft, so it wouldn’t need to move itself. Nevertheless, the elevator could sense its servos warming up in a anticipation of ruining another sentient’s day.
“Man, I hate elevators,” the human in heavy soldier armor declared. What? It hated him already? The elevator’s work was half done! Without further ado, the elevator kicked his motors into overdrive as he shot up the shaft, eager to make the party extremely frustrated.
“Hey, look, here it comes,” commented his compatriot, whose attire suggested his profession as a smuggler. “Looks like it may be our lucky day after all.”
Oh, how wrong he was.
The party quickly stepped on, and the elevator shot down… at a snail’s pace. The groan from the trooper was a pleasant enough reward to wet its palette.
“Could this damn thing go any slower?” The trooper asked to no one, clearly vexed.
“Patience is a virtue, my friend,” another member stated. His words, along with the long robes he wore, were indicative enough to the elevator to marvel at his luck. It finally got the chance to get a pretentious Jedi where it hurts; their desire to save the galaxy. And he would be doing no such thing while stuck here.
The trooper grumbled to himself, then grew quiet again. A few more seconds, and the lift arrived at the wrong floor. None of the doors would open, but it wouldn’t stop the trooper and the other Jedi from stepping off. Pleased at his ruse, the elevator quickly shot down again and stopped at another, equally as useless floor.
Two thuds made the elevator shudder in glee. His sensors indicated that the two had jumped down nearly fifty feet, but by the way they writhed indicated at least a few broken bones. Today was getting exciting.
“God…damnit…” The trooper said through gritted teeth.
He started reloading, because somehow it would heal the fractured shins he received. The other Jedi gave him a sympathetic look, and started to meditate as well. The first Jedi and the smuggler laughed at their companions, as the elevator would have if he had a vocal box.
But what’s this? The trooper stepped off the platform and onto the floor, and then jumped off that! He landed on a light fixture and then on the floor, lessening the injury a bit. His immediate action of reloading his gun meant it was far from harmless, however.
Smirking, the smuggler took the same course of action. His acrobatic skills were not on par with the soldiers, and with a surprised yelp bounced of the light fixture and plunged down the shaft. With nothing to grab, the man slid all the way down to the bottom, coming into contact with the OHSA-violating power fixtures at the base of the elevator shaft. To say it looked painful would be the understatement of the century.
“Oh god.” A bewildered Jedi uttered, shocked. They had survived coup d’état forces and deadly droids together. To lose a friend (well, just a trip to the revive center) like this, was well unexpected.
This was unexpected as well to the elevator, who nearly blew a circuit trying to contain his electronic laughter. This was his best day ever, and it only seemed to continue as the trooper continued down the shaft, floor by floor.
When the trooper reached the ground floor, he jumped to the side. Peeking from a corner, he saw a group of heavily armed separatist forces, complete with three large robotic death machines. The trooper knew his odds were hopeless, and also knew the prevalence of cloning technology. With a sigh, he threw himself onto the power cables, allowing a quick (yet painful) return to reunite with his comrade.
The elevator was alight with glee. In this single day, it ruined the moods of the sentients in ways it could never imagine! Who knew death could be this joyful? And, as it lowered to the base floor, it knew it wasn’t the end just yet.
The lift arrived, and the group of nearly 15 guards looked at the two Jedi, before readying their rifles, grenade launchers, and heavy turrets. The first Jedi turned to the other.
“Well fu-“
The elevator didn’t hear him finish his sentence. It wasn’t sure if it was due to sheer amount of ordnance discharge, or his own mechanical laughter.
This story was base on real events that happened to fake people controlled by real people.
Subject: The Scourge of Cademimu 
Mon Jan 02, 2012 5:08 pm
