Chapter Text
As far as assignments went, it could have been worse. Much worse, if its learning module was anything to go by.
VegaNemon was under a longstanding contract with TrenSeren, the security company that manufactured it, which dated back to eighty cycles ago. SecUnit 57 was selected to replace a totaled SecUnit on one of their agricultural planets. To be clear, the Unit didn't expire because the job was that dangerous. The largest fauna on the planet barely reached up to a human's knee, and were a docile herbivore that avoided the colony most times of the year, only being a bother in the colder half of the cycle, where it would attempt to raid the greenhouses. Other than that, the flora was whatever they planted there, and a few shoulder-high natives. (To SecUnit 57, it almost sounded idyllic.)
Instead, the construct met its end in a totally banal way. It was past its warranty, an old model that one day randomly experienced a catastrophic system failure and shut down permanently. It was by far the best way to go, compared to the other possibilities outlined in the learning module.
The failed SecUnit was returned to TrenSeren, so they got the replacement 30% off.
SecUnit 57 internal clock read that it had been active for 360 hours, most of which it spent powered down in its cubicle. Several cycles later, it has been delivered to the planet and quickly designated 'SecUnit Epsilon'. (It wasn't sure how to feel about that part; it had just taken up calling itself SecUnit 57 during the few hours it had been awake.)
Now it was here, stationed in front of one of the AgCenter's, staring out of its helmet at the vast expanse of green flora—the humans called it wheat. (For which it was thankful because its own learning module did the code equivalent of a shrug when it asked what it was.)
The humans came early every day, and SecUnit 57 escorted them from the handful of habitats that made up the colony to their designated AgCenter.
The job parameters were simple enough.
- Make sure that all workers are safe during working hours.
- Make sure workers don't steal or damage equipment.
- Make sure all workers are accounted for at the end of work hours.
Simple enough.
The workers knew their tasks and began their shifts without any hassle, and were content to leave it alone. They were more concerned with the AgBots and the pests that would threaten the crops than to bother it. SecUnit 57 took its position next to the main entrance and released its drones. They were mostly positioned around the building, but some patrolled the fields.
And then nothing happened.
The workers did their job, and the AgBots did whatever they were doing, and that was it.
There was nothing to do.
Which was fine by it, because the learning module told it to use 'force' or 'violence' and 'intimidation' if the humans step out of the company-approved guidelines. (SecUnit 57 thought those measures were overboard, especially for a 'too long' caffeine break.) So doing nothing meant it didn't have to do those either.
That got boring pretty fast.
SecUnit 57 didn't even know what boring was before this, and it already had enough of it. That's how boring it got.
It was just it, babysitting the humans, babysitting the AgBots.
Maybe the other Units have something better going on. It decided to give one of them a polite little ping in greeting and ask if anyone wants to open a channel with it. There weren't any rules prohibiting it, so it might as well try.
First on the list was, of course, SecUnit Alpha. It automatically accepted its ping and pulled it into an open channel between it and SecUnit Gamma.
Flora#36782 = 39.14 cm — progress = 0.9 cm since last measurement.
What?
SecUnit 57 was taken back. It didn't know what that meant, and it wasn't sure if it was meant for it or what. Reading back the log was just as confusing.
Flora#66783 = 36.44 cm
Flora#80023 = 30.01 cm
Flora#53511 = 32.27 cm
Flora#22364 = 37.22 cm
This went on and on. Hundreds of logs of measurements, going back and forth between the two Units. It didn't understand why. It sent a shy query, but it remained unanswered. Alpha and Gamma continued announcing their measurements, as well as tagging their 'favorite' floras.
Was that something it should be doing as well?
Then, out of the blue, SecUnit Beta contacted it and pulled it into a separate channel.
Ignore then, it said. They have been at it for cycles now. If it's not a matter of security, they don't care.
SecUnit 57 felt relieved that it wasn't the weird one for not getting it.
Why are they doing that? it decided to ask.
SecUnit Beta did the feed equivalent of a shrug.
Don't want to talk, it added a millisecond later.
That's rude.
I don't want to talk either. Then Beta kicked it out of the channel and firmly locked it down.
Rude! It didn't do anything!
That left only SecUnit Delta as the last construct it hadn't made contact with yet. Not expecting much, SecUnit 57 sent it a cautious ping.
QÊr£# = grʒ%20et;ng?'
Uhm, alright, that's strange. SecUnit Delta's code, or language module, or something must be broken for it to send out a message that badly garbled. But the meta date attached read as something between shy and hopeful, and it was easy to guess that, among the other Units, and whatever issues it is having, it probably didn't have anybody to talk to.
Just like it didn't have anybody to talk to.
SecUnit 57 contemplated whether it was worth it to continue. But with Alpha and Gamma doing whatever they were doing, and Beta basically ignoring it, that left only Delta.
So, it might as well try.
Hello, SecUnit Delta.
Hel%30, SeǨUn)'t Eÿsiℓo#*