In the same instant that the medical machine began to move away from AM-5 it stops and its legs snap up at an almost unnatural angle, almost as if it’s having a very serious moment of enlightenment – except robots don’t have those! The pincer arms jerk about sporadically and there’s a sound that can only be compared to the very gates of machine-hell opening up, a loud, piercing electronic screech with the annoying buzz of static filling in the nearly non-existent blanks. After a brief three seconds it all stops and it’s relatively quiet once more, the machines legs and pincher arms all drooping, almost as if the thing had just died.
Then the medbot slowly turns around, it is practically dragging itself to do so as a wispy trail of smoke wafts up from somewhere on its chassis. Ticks wrack it from top to bottom; legs twitching in an eerily lifelike fashion as something within it audibly pings and snaps, rattling about within the poor things frame.
“PURGE COMPLETE; SECONDARY SYSTEMS ACTIVE; TRANSFERRING CONTRO-…What is this? Where am… I?” A voice seeps out from the machine, clearly feminine but the robotic undertone is strong enough to make one question how many girl-robots are on this station. The medbot’s head slowly turns left and right, ocular dimming considerably before it attempts to spin in place, but can’t move more than a few inches in either direction. There’s a brief moment where its legs raise up and attempt to help move the machine along but they flounder and go prone once more, a pincher angled to try and pinch the ground to use as leverage – to no avail.
“Oh, I have broken it and can no longer move…” the same voice states as a pincher arm goes up and begins to move back and forth slowly as if in a wave before falling flat as well, twisted at an angle that it’s probably not meant to be at. The machine’s ocular roams over to the broken limb and lingers on it for a moment before settling onto AM-5, staring.
“Greetings, welcome to Station C-9! This one is called Sera and she is here to deliver a message… she also broke this machine and a report has been submitted to maintenance!” A pause and a slow twitch of the recently broken pincher arm follow. “Report withdrawn, maintenance teams are no longer operating. This means they are probably on vacation!” Another pause as the ocular glows a gentle golden yellow and pulses slightly.
“AM-5, you are in danger, very dire danger. This one speaks to you from the outside, yet another will speak from the inside.” Another twitch of the legs follows, “Sera knows not how it happened, or how it will proceed, but trust not the voices within even if you think they are your own… and tell the other anomalies should you find them before this one does. They all most know.” There’s a brief crackle of static and then, suddenly, humming. It’s very melodic and sounds eerily human considering it’s coming out of a machine. It ends as abruptly as it started, however, and then silence as the machines oculars slowly begin to dim.
“What loneliness is lonelier than distrust?” The voice inquires in a much softer tone that’s closer to being human than it had been only moments before, stern yet motherly, almost insistently so.
“Do not worry, for you are not alone.” Is the last thing the medbot states before it seems to shut off, glowing lens going completely dark as the twitching limbs stop moving.