-Boot sequence initiated

-Battery diagnostics complete. Undamaged

-Primary diagnostics complete. Warmech Interfacing Mainframe Pilot Model 09 Yggdras. Detected Evac casing. Canopy engaged.

-Sensors detected.

-Engaging radio communications. No input.

-Engage auditory reception. Input.

-Chemical sensors damaged. 82 degrees.

-Engage visual sensors. 

-Engage proprioception sensors. Evac casing is tilted.

-Engage primary thought programs. Maximum capacity reached.

I looked around the small capsule, noting my own sleek body with the various joints and wiring laid about. With a command my chest panels slide closed together. It clipped close as my 

Query. What has happened?

Answer: Crash landing. 

My own body begins to respond to the commands, lifting from the cushioned seat and readjusting to the direction of gravity. With the canopy opened, various sounds fill my receptors. Insects buzzing and echoing around the outside of the capsule, small creatures chirping in the distance, singing their songs, wind whistling through leaves and branches as they rustled together.

A jungle.

Distant sounds of rushing foliage alert me. Something-multiple somethings are on their way

The position and location of my body begin to flood into my consciousness as various perimeter alerts on the Evac capsule ring out. I check my left arm for my pulse rifle and find that it is jammed. A shard of glass is stuck between the rotating mechanics. I would have to investigate this later

The capsule shakes violently, as if tapped by an outside force. Something rushes by the open canopy.

Quickly, I grab the shard and rip it out, my arm now able to transform into its Pulse Arm Mk III, taking aim and charging up a single shot. A sharp crackle and a declining whine. A systems check is completed, my firearm is useless.

Huh. A firearm. Literally.

A noise akin to a huff of breath sounds from the canopy as moist air hits my receptors. A massive maw opens up before me. Instantaneously my hands move, grabbing the edge of the capsule and snapping an open hand out to the snout as it came inside, colliding rather roughly. The snout retreated, giving me the opportunity to exit the capsule.

The ground was close enough where I landed with a simple roll, feeling the joints whir silently, as if crying out at their sudden awakening. I turn around-

-Only to be slammed by a head the size of my torso. I was back on the ground as the massive jaws open up and hiss. Liquid hit my optics. Saliva. I reach for my waist instinctively, grabbing the handle of the Wave Blade and unsheathing it. A hollow ring sounds from it like a tuning fork and I swept it in an arc, feeling it connect with the base of the lower jaw. Blood and saliva oozes out as I put more pressure onto the single edged weapon, feeling the ease of flesh turn to the resistance of bone.

As the chunk of flesh fell, a gurgle sound rose from the creature and the rest of it fell. I noted the bipedal posture, short hands and long legs, a tail and its massive angular head, mostly covered in feathers. I scan the body. Theropod in shape and design. A groan sounded from the dying animal before I buried my blade into its cranium, the humming steel sinking deep and quick.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

With an efficiency too practiced for having just been woken, I clean the blade and sheath it. I run a diagnostic check on my Pulse Arm, and find that the fuel cell housed near my elbow joint was cracked. An easy replacement, one I already begin, removing the cell and crushing it in my hands as I reach into my belt and procure a new one. While my body moves with an unlearned practice I run a check on the capsule’s black box.

-Diagnostic complete. Evac Pod C-285 from dreadnought class frigate POSEIDON severely damaged. RHEIA protocol established and research equipment not immediately in use had been evacuated. List of survivors: undetermined. Casualties: undetermined. Frigate’s last known location: undetermined.

Rustling nearby drew my focus back to my environment, and I turned to see a bush nearby shake as something hid behind it. A chirping sounded from behind. I moved to investigate, my acoustic programs already working to mimic the chirping. After a couple more chirps from the bush I analyzed the frequency and mimicked it. The bush shuddered and another theropod-esque creature, smaller with similar patterns but with more feathers, tramped out of the bush and towards me. Its feathers were black on its head and back with a tan pattern, but white from its sides down. It turned and bumped its side against my legs, its angular head looking up and chirping at me. 

I understand now what it was I killed, and looking under my capsule I notice for the first time the wreckage left when the small pod had landed. 

My pod had landed on a nest.

I ran various programs through my head. Probability of survival for the remaining young was low seeing as how it was still near its nest, was up to my knee joints in height and relatively close to its parent. 

Query: What should I do now?

Should? Strange, this was foreign language. Protocol dictates that I find a method of communicating with the POSEIDON, if it is still reachable. Current sensors were too weak though. Radio communication wasn’t poss-

-Signal received. 67 degrees North, 43 degrees west.

The rest of my capsule. The rest of me. Looking over certain files told me that I was merely a piece of a whole, and that whole offered a broader range of broadcast. I turned my optics to the sky above. A planet with an atmosphere containing life. The planet’s two rings arced and met at the edge of the horizon, just above the treeline. The sun was setting.

Answer: Recovery.

Query: What about the creature?

I ran several probability fields and primary thought processes. This animal’s death was near certain, unless I aided it. What were my reasons for helping it?

It provided an opportunity for further study.

It was helpless without me. Its death would be functionless.

I killed its mother.

I do not want to be alone.

I turned my optics to the creature once more. It had begun rubbing its snout over the metal casing of my leg. 

“I will call you Birdie.” I spoke for the first time, in a synthetic voice brought out by small speakers located within my chest. And with my answer to the question, I began making plans.

I wrote lists of tasks and equipment I would need, and began taking inventory of supplies. I ignored what was damaged, but took the spare fuel cells my pod offered, as well as the mobile radio. I equipped the scanner to my head piece and noticed a gun case that did not belong in inventory. I looked through it and found a standard issue handgun with extra additions to turn it into a semi-automatic submachine gun, as well as a horizontal magazine for both additions. I took it as well, clipping it to my back, then closed the pod, locking it. 

Birdie was trotting around outside, chasing an insect the size of my head. In 15 second the insect was already being swallowed as Birdie trotted up to me. Using the scanner, I detected three different crash sites, and designated them by distance. 

It was then that my receptors picked up minor tremors in the ground. Birdie chirped, crouching low to the ground. An SOS pinged on my scanner, having come from one of the other pods.

I looked to my forearm, where my designation was branded into the metal. I clicked open a channel on the radio.

Warmech Interfacing Mainframe Pilot Prototype-IX

“This is WIMP Prototype-Ix of the POSEIDON, intercepting SOS. Any response?”

I waited for a response. None came.

“I am on my way.”