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Yet Another RimWorld (Reboot)
Pilot 1/3 Father of Robots

Pilot 1/3 Father of Robots

“Good morning, Junior Engineer Lawrence.”

“Hm.” Lawrence responded as he stepped into the workshop. He was already in a bad mood as he was never a morning person. Having to walk from one end of the base to another — to reach this secluded spot didn’t help cheer him up either.

He had to groggily weave around the various crates and equipment littered on the ground in order to reach the data mainframe on the other end of this building. He felt like wading through a giant swamp of OSHA violations — not only was the building a mess, it was more apt to call it a hastily constructed shack as it lacked the most basic organization when it comes to all things electrical.

He would’ve preferred to work on the rice-fields over this crappy shack any other day, but he wasn’t given much of a choice. ‘This is nothing but silent coercion, but then the bastards on the base call it my voluntary calling… what else can I do?’ He thought.

Then, his elevated annoyance reached a boiling point he stomped on something and almost lost his balance. “Goddamnit! Fucking wrench in the fucking middle of the walkway!” He yelled in anger. He then swiftly withdrew his rage and looked around to make sure no one else saw his outburst as he knew well that the people on this base does not take kindly on erratic behavior — and that they will respond to his outburst with by bursting his jaw.

Lawrence soon found a suitable volunteer to handle the issue. “Hands, get over here and clean this place up.” He called out.

“Affirmative, Junior Engineer Lawrence.” Hands replied. “Cleaning will commence after crafting-salvaging activities are complete.”

“No.” Lawrence sighed while crossing his arms; he was also annoyed that these things are adamant in addressing him by his former occupation. “Do your crafting shit later, I want it cleaned up now.”

“Negative, Junior Engineer Lawrence.” Hands replied stoically while focusing on the workbench. “Crafting is assigned as a Priority-1 task for this unit. Cleaning is a Priority-4 task.”

“Goddamned android talking back to me…” Lawrence muttered. He resented his current job to monitor these lifeless things — Androids. They are the best available option for any sorts of labor, as long as they are properly monitored. While Lawrence was the best available option to oversee these androids, it definitely did not make him feel better about the things that he has to put up with. After all, he only loved working on androids — not working with them.

Hands, the particular android was yet another general-purpose android, salvaged and repurposed. The feature that earned this android its nickname was the fact that its arms were replaced with a superior set salvaged from a defunct crafting android. It comes with 40 joints, various motorized flexors and 7 digits including 2 opposable thumbs on each arm. Its incredible specifications made it invaluable in precision-control tasks, such as crafting.

“Listen, Hands, admin access.” Lawrence made a demand using his administrator privileges. “Set cleaning task to Priority-1, everything else to Priority-4.”

“Affirmative, Junior Engineer Lawrence.” Hands replied while deftly taking apart motors from a ruined android frame. “Are you sure you want to make these changes? Note that this will modify this unit’s subroutine into—”

“Yes! I agree! Do it now!” Lawrence flailed his arms. He finally breathed a sigh of relief when the android went silent and changed its behavior. Hands immediately stashed the unfinished salvage into a neatly organized cabinet and went around rearranging the messy workshop. Watching the polished white android’s pair of stubby legs carrying it around while organizing all the things gave him a much needed wave of relief.

“Anyways.” Lawrence walked to the data mainframe section and sat on his comfy office chair. “How’s the analysis going, Brains?”

Lawrence looked towards the android standing beside him that was working on the main terminal. He couldn’t help but smile when he set his gaze on Brains, the designated researcher of this base. It was his proudest work in his career thus far — a general-purpose android with a vastly superior data-core. Brains’ head was exposed without the typical casing but adorned with an assortment of extra circuitry and data drives all over its head. All this extra hardware graciously provided by its former-existing brethren and Lawrence’s numerous attempts at optimization vastly improved its processing ability.

The people were kind enough to provide Lawrence access to the database and even provide hardware required for Lawrence to perform his analysis and research. Even though Lawrence was not particularly grateful for it, as they definitely did not do it out of the kindness of their hearts. On the contrary, Lawrence was expected to return the ‘favor’ with the fruits of knowledge.

“Report: Reverse engineering android core successful, but manufacturing is impossible with current facilities.” Brains stated its findings. “Report: JT Drive analysis failed. Key components missing from salvage.”

“Report: Hi-powered rocket lasers are a documented hoax, not a blueprint, hence impossible to analyze.” Brain continued. “Report: Mark4 Guidance Missile AI are too complicated to extract with current hardware.”

“Damn.” Lawrence replied. “What about the rest. Nothing good?”

“Rebuke: There are positive findings in base research.” Brains continued. “Answer: Hydroponics light in base could undergo optimization, increase smokeleaf harvest by 6.9%; increase rice harvest by 2%; increase beetroot harv—”

“Halt there.” Lawrence moaned in annoyance, berating the tin-can silently in his head — A tin-can with 100x the brain power is still a tin-can. “What about our space hopper? You said that a breakthrough will come soon.”

“Clarify: A breakthrough with restoring the ship’s logs, Junior Engineer Lawrence.” Brains gestured at the terminal screen, generating a 3D visualization of a spacecraft along with a detailed report. “Analysis from various sensors and the black-box indicates the probable sequence of events. Which infers that the statements provided to you by the Gray Talons are true.”

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“Well then…” Lawrence’s emotions are a mix of bitter and relief. He slouched on the chair and motioned Brains to continue with a flick of his hand. “Give me the full sequence of events that you dug up.”

“Affirmative, Junior Engineer Lawrence.”

> “Year 5198 — the unnamed cargo hopper, designated H-133017 was dispatched to a neighbouring colony. To assist in construction and developmental efforts.”

>

>

> “Year 5200 — the spacecraft was rendered derelict due to an electrical overload, presumably caused by a massive solar flare or an offensive device of similar function. The ship then detached from its original trajectory, passive functions soon restored but the main drives and AI are damaged beyond repair. Hence no corrections were made.”

>

> “Year 5340 — the spacecraft had been recaptured into orbit of this star system. As sensors indicate that the spacecraft’s trajectory had shifted into a high planetary orbit, presumably the planet that you now reside in.”

>

> “Year 5345 — sensors detect massive spike in plasma convergence on ship hull. The resulting impact caused a catastrophic hull breach, terminating 6 stationed crew in cryptosleep, and the destruction of 120 androids — where 117 were damaged beyond repair. Junior Engineer Lawrence was the 7th and only surviving crew of the unnamed cargo hopper, safely preserved in a cryptosleep casket.”

>

> “Year 5377 — foreign spacecraft presence registered. The same spacecraft soon boarded the cargo hopper and extracted multiple assets without permission. Including all intact android frames, all emergency supplies, 1 intact cryptosleep casket, the ship’s databanks, propulsion components, and lastly the ship’s auxiliary power supply. Hence terminating data collection. The boarding party was retroactively identified as the Gray Talons — A registered accessory merchant company and subsidiary of Blue-Moon Corporation.”

“Merchants my ass.” Lawrence moaned. “More like pirates!”

“Clarify: composite data analysis identifies that their operating motifs are in line with outlaw mercenaries.” Brains explained. “Query: Full analysis generated and compiled, what is the further action for this unit?”

“Listen, Brains.” Lawrence sat upright from his slouched position, hugging his arms deep in thought. “You uhh… keep a report on your physical drives. Then remove all traces of this from the recovered black-box and the base’s data mainframe.”

“Affirmative, Junior Engineer Lawrence.” Brains connected a tethered cable in the terminal into an open port on its head. After replicating the required files onto the android’s personal data drives, the original copies were manually deleted as per his request.

----------------------------------------

Lawrence sat still, slowly reviewing the collated data that Brains had produced during the past few days. It included financial reports to technological blueprints for various objects. From high efficiency electronic toothbrushes to improved sentry turrets — He realized that the contributions of his merry band of androids could prove invaluable to the Gray Talons, not to include all the other factions on this planet and beyond.

Aside from sensitive subjects that Lawrence opted to permanently erase from its digital existence, the information salvaged from the derelict ship’s data drives — the knowledge that was once his employers were now obtained by the Gray Talons.

It frustrates him to no end that a piss-small faction of scavenger vermin came to control such invaluable assets. Not to mention the fact that he was coerced into it and gaining very little in return. His mood was only made worse, due to the fact that someone else was in his presence without the best of intentions.

“Come on, baldy.” The man croaked, a cold smirk always present on his face. “Don’t your own company has fabricators and shit? Can’t you dig it up? You hiding it from us cause you jelly?”

Having a person literally breathing down his neck on his working space elicits a horrible feeling from Lawrence. ‘You can’t even speak right and now you stand here lording over me? I’ll kill you someday!’ He thought to himself, while struggling to keep his composure against this slimy fellow.

“There’s simply no such technology on the ship’s databanks, nothing I could do.” Lawrence shrugged, shrinking his torso and avoiding eye contact with the imposing figure standing behind him. “Sorry, mister?”

“Don’t you be coy with me, bitch! You don’t deserve to know my name.” The man pressed his hand against Lawrence’s shoulder, gripping it hard. “Don’t you lie to us, remember we dug you out of your space coffin! You be dead without us, you hear!?”

“Yes, of course!” Lawrence’s disdain for the man had reached extreme levels, his desire to punch the man’s teeth out was only assuaged by feeling the man’s cold, hard plasteel gauntlet crushing his shoulder. “I’ll do my best, I promise!”

“Good boy!” The man rubbed Lawrence’s head for a brief moment before turning around and left the building. Lawrence’s bald scalp had reddened to an unnatural degree, the same extent of which was the veins on his face and neck. He probably would have burst a blood vessel or two if he had to reign in his overwhelming impulse to commit acts of violence.

He gave a sharp, resentful glare towards the man as his footsteps echoed across the small building. Each metallic clang striking his nerves — while the sight of the man wearing a full set of power armor had extinguished his thought of stepping out of line. This suit of armor has embedded sensors and an internal exoskeleton unit would turn any ordinary person into a superhuman capable of almost anything — provided that the plasteel plating was powerful enough to withstand any blows coming its way.

Just as he was about to leave the entrance, the man turned around and looked at Lawrence. He lifted the battle rifle that was cradled in his arm as if it was a triumphant display of strength, and power. Lawrence winced as their gazes matched, and only sighed in relief when the man was gone for good.

“Query: Junior Engineer Lawrence.” Brain’s voice chimed in behind him, startling Lawrence. “Explanation: your behavioral data indicates anxiety and distress, do you require assistance?”

Lawrence — not in the mood, waved his arm dismissingly as a response. Brains simply stood still and watched over him, but he decided to ignore it. He crumpled onto his desk, supporting his head with his arms and made another sigh.

“What the hell should I do?” He muttered anxiously. He looked at the terminal in front of him, and briefly glanced over the documents displayed. It was all valuable technological blueprints that anyone would want to possess — an improved telecommunication device, high-powered explosives, smart missiles and railguns — are among the various blueprints that were outlined through the earlier conversation he had with the man.

He had no qualms handing valuable blueprints away, not like his former employers will hunt him down for infringing on copyright. His issue lies in the company that he was forced to serve in, keeping company with such people are a threat to his health and safety.

He turned his gaze towards Hands, the crafting android. It is currently busy assembling a railgun. Using electro-magnetic rails ‘acquired’ by the Gray Talons from dubious origins — Hands was busy constructing the frame of the weapon, while installing the rails as a part of the gun barrel, along with many other electrical components.

He surmised it wouldn’t take long before the bastards had another shiny toy to play with. That is, a toy that could rip through plasteel armor like nothing, with an effective range of 3 kilometers — that will definitely prove useful in their ‘trading’ activities.

“Fuck me.” Lawrence moaned. He had probably felt more anxiety in this short quadrant on this planet, than he ever had in his 50 year-long lifespan. “I need to get out of here.”

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