Ramblings of an Old War Machine
The following are a series of logs recovered from the independent colony formed on Terra-3, with only minor military intervention required. Note that location and times are incomplete, as the unit we believe they belonged to was most likely defective.
Sometime in spring, ~3055
A simple beeping is heard, starting the recording. "R0G3 MIA log, day 7. I've been neglecting my duties to report on my activities within the situation." a simple crunching, accompanied by the movement of motorized limbs. "I've yet to approximate my location, but I've established my immediate surroundings. There is a lack of civilization, but the area's certainly habitable. There's green grass, and light tree coverage. A seemingly gelatinous species, and a variety of small creatures, seem to make a home of this small forest. Perhaps I could report this as a potential outpost location. Nothing notable to report."
2 Days after prior Report
a beeping is heard as the recording starts. "R0G3 MIA log, day 9. The local fauna is intriguing. The small creatures are typical, squirrels, rabbits, mice, all standard species for a forest. The gelatinous forms, however, are interesting. Adaptive. In my travels, I've found that they come in various sizes, and hues. What I haven't seen, however, is variance in their materials. At least I won't need to worry about damaged plating." The sound of ignition, before the clanking of metal on metal. "The inhabitants don't seem to have ill will, but I doubt such a simple species would be capable of such. That's irrelevant, however, as they cause harm nonetheless, unsurprising considering their nature to simply move without thought. I can at least take ease in their simple method of dispatch, a simple spark being enough to set one alight." A pause in the dialogue, but not in the persistent crunching in the grass beneath metal foot. "I'm not supposed to be able to feel ease, am I? or worry, for that matter. End of report."
A familiar beep "R0G3 MIA log, day 10. it's officially reached double digits since I've found myself in unfamiliar territory. As of today, I can officially be considered abandoned. At least I would be, if I haven't been moving. My attempt to find an outpost has-" A crash in the distance interrupts the machines monologue, the sound of armor hitting earth is audible, before the machine rushes to end the recording. "It's my duty to investigate that. end of report.
2 Days after prior report
A high-pitched beep "R0G3 MIA log, day 12. I've located the source of the crash. a spacefaring ship, civilian class. Branding is buried below the ground, so there's no clear indication of who the ship belongs to." The sound crying is heard from a short distance away. "seems that I've spoken too soon. There's certainly at least one civilian alive, and it is my duty as a machine to protect them. I'll report when the situation is sorted, End of Report"
10 days after prior report.
A short jingle in place of the prior beep. "R0G3 Abandoned log day 1. there were three survivors of the crash, two small children and an infant. The children fear me, and are perhaps right to do so. After all, I am both significantly larger than them and better armed. I've attempted to establish myself as a friendly presence, but I can feel their hesitation regardless. The infant seems to have no such qualms. For now, the wreckage of the ship is being used as a temporary shelter to keep my charges warm and safe during the night, but it's nowhere near a permanent solution. There's also the situation of feeding the bunch. There's enough baby formula to feed the infant for at least long enough to find support, but the children are less well off. The food within the ship is largely rendered inedible, and my armaments are far from acceptable as a means of cooking what little there is to hunt here. My primary objective is still finding the nearest outpost to report to. End of report."
2 Days after prior report
A short jingle, followed by dialogue accompanied by the muffled noise of play "R0G3 Abandoned report day 3. I've spoken with the children, and discerned the nature of the ship they arrived on. It was a luxury vessel, a sightseeing cruise. I've also learned the children's names; Rusty and Arylide. I doubt either are real, but I'm not in any position to question them. Discussion with Rusty has been enlightening. His parents were engineers, largely working on machines like myself. What I've learned is... Enlightening. it's typical for civilian models to have a degree of sentience, as is necessary for many of the complex tasks War machines are delegated to simple programming, but are, to be blunt, lobotomized. I shouldn't be able to skip a daily report, or have any notions of honor, or duty. I shouldn't be able to think. or feel. and I'm horrified to lose either one. End of Report."
This is the first part of a story I've started writing, the first five parts are currently up at Ramblings of an old War Machine - MachineGoblin - Wattpad and I'll be uploading further parts as I finish them. feedback is appreciated, but the majority of plot points are planned out. This might end up as murder drones fanfiction if I'm still interested in the series by the time it becomes narratively relevant, but I'm prepared to make it its own science-fantasy story.
