May I Write of Heroes – #4: Scout Unit 11


This one starts and ends a little differently. But hang in there, it does go somewhere.

unit 11 startup
BIOS: FrontRunnerInit.02.34.01
initializing system…
memory scan…
001………025………050………075………100
memory working
starting SIDEWINDER_10.10_OS
identify class…
Infiltration scout
identify server…
frontrunner_HS_75
armor…
01 sentinel_LVL_07_chassis
01 frontrunner_LVL_10_visor
04 10Y_LVL_19_bracers
04 10Y_LVL_19_shin
assets…
01 sitya_LVL_27_cannon
02 sitya_LVL_26_handblades
37 doolray_LVL_10_stickbombs
battery…
01 betdear_LVL_100_energear
02 betdear_LVL_100_backbattery
startup time…
.0001 nanoseconds
calibration start…
start visual…
visual calibration complete
start audio…
audio calibration complete
start sentience…
sentience calibration complete
calibration complete
begin consciousness…
…………………………………………………………

I hate startup. Or perhaps it’s my programming that hates startup. I’m unsure. I do not allow any complications such as that to affect me.

Orders came through immediately. We were to go to the docking bays. Since the new versions of scouts were released, we were relegated to menial tasks. Our strength was still formidable, but our processing power was what had been improved. That, and many newer ports for weaponry.

Our new lives were of transporters.

Travel was quick. Pausing input allowed me to save processing heat and battery time. It felt like three seconds. It took fourteen hundred seconds.

Falling in line behind unit 07 and unit 12, I joined the ranks going to our goal. Two large crates were standing in the middle of the docking bay floor. No other workers were around. The lights were dimmed. I referenced the time. After hours. Odd.

The cargo was larger than it may have appeared. There were little standard references and my version was not equipped with beam-based gauges. Five meters tall. Seven meters wide, square. Each.

Sounds. Footsteps. Four sets. We all turned, activating our cannons and handblades. Red lights from our targeting systems revealed four shrouded figures coming from the darkness. They were assuming biological status, wearing clothes, using bipedal motion. But they were scouts. Dominators.

<Mod_link_status_2311>

Parent status. Damn. Our logic systems re-calibrated. We were now under their orders. They had the credentials, our store of unit addresses matched their IDs. They were from our faction.

<Packet_transfer_01 — 05 + 12>

The info was recognized and unpacked instantaneously. Plans had changed. We weren’t told why. We didn’t need to be. We were to take one crate in the new transport. An old four track rumbler. Loud. Easy to track. It didn’t make sense.

The Dominators grabbed the first crate. They moved it quietly into the vehicle they commandeered. It wasn’t long before they left the premises. The blast pads flushed, sending a wave of blue and white arcs along the ground. It was quiet, nearly silent. As it gained speed, the pads dimmed and settled on recuperative power.

Our cargo was heavier than it had appeared. Approximately three hundred kilograms. Possibly new equipment. I couldn’t understand why we had to go in separate groups. There was more than enough room, more than enough power to bring both crates back on the skimmer.

04 closed the door while 12 and I tied everything down.

The screeching started soon. The rumbler was automated. Apparently.

We hooked in. Our latches grabbed ahold of the walls.

I shut my input down, leaving emergency detectors for, well, emergencies.

Three minutes later, from a reference of my clock, I was jarred awake. Partially. A shrill sensation signifying unwarranted movement outside of the vehicle made me aware of the massive object coming at us from the south. The sound of wrenching metal preceded my shielded backup maintenance unit’s activation.

………………………………………………………………………
init_panic_alarm_203
checking internal memory
001………025……
001……….025……
memory error
backup system restore
start backup system maintenance check...
damage assessment
70% of central unit unaccessible
10% of chassis unaccessible
armor destruction… 100%
self destruct priority…
0 not applicable
security erase
1 applicable
end backup system maintenance check 
start memory wipe 
001…… 
error… retrying 
001… 
error… retrying 
001… 
error… retrying 
001…

About Aaron Shively

I have been working as a freelance writer and artist for the last decade. In that time, I've done everything from ghostwriting to toy design and everything in between. I am currently working on a novel series called 'Myth' which has held my attention for the past sixteen years. I have spent my time developing the world, character and story and am now ready to funnel all the preliminary material into the manuscript of the first installment, 'of Men and Monsters' Bookmark & Share

Posted on 05/05/2012, in Hypostatica and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. Huh! Wow… Not sure what I make of it… I feel like I’m missing something, but whether it’s because I’m not “into your world” yet or because of another reason, I’m still unsure. Interesting characterization… clearly you see more to these synthetic beings than just machines. I’d be curious to know more about the world in general.

    • The world is revealed in small parts through all the stories. If you start with the first and then continue on, you’ll get a better idea. The only thing I wanted to achieve with this specific story, however, is portraying a computer-like being who deals with issues we view from a different side (obsoletion, total subordination, etc). I’m using a larger plot to give rise to little views into different characters’ lives on this world. The basic idea is actually a relatively simple one (compared to my larger projects), but to add complexity and dynamism, I wanted to put as many different viewpoints as possible.

      This is one of my less orthodox attempts. Last year was far more typical of a group of short stories… mostly.

      Thanks for the comment!

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