JayTee
Eight Thousand Club
A short bit of writing from the point of view of the giant robot itself.
I sleep.
In my slumber, dozens of my Caretakers crawl along my body, their hands adjusting and tuning my worn surface. They keep me strong, fit and able. In return, I protect them and my Siblings from The Enemy.
A dull electric thrum from my damaged sensors alerts me to the presence of my Pilot standing among the Caretakers, eyeing my repairs with a worried gaze. The last battle was fierce, I lost my arm and the left side of my face in the exchange of gunfire and rockets.
I fear I will be unfit for battle when The Enemy next attacks.
I fear I am bereft of use, having been damaged so badly.
Without use, I am without purpose. Without purpose, am to be discarded, broken down so that my parts might strengthen my Siblings. It is an unsatisfying end, but a worthy one.
I sleep.
In my slumber, I feel myself being transported to an unknown destination. I am not worried, because the stressed drone of the carrier's engines tells me that we are headed towards the next battle. I have been restored to my former strength. I can fight, and with my Pilot, I am unstoppable.
Klaxons sound, and my Siblings murmur amongst themselves. They are younger than me, stronger, but untested. It is up to me to to show them who The Enemy is, and how to fight them. As The Pilots begin to arrive and orders are issued from Command, I warm up my weapons and start a test of my systems. Everything is in perfect working order.
I waken.
My machine gun roars, spewing fire and metal in an endless torrent of destruction. My sensors pick up a rocket that is locked on to my thrusters, and I send an warning to my Pilot. He triggers the decoys hidden within my frame and we turn our attention back to the battle. My Siblings and their Pilots take up their positions on my flanks, and we lead the charge towards The Enemy's main battleship.
I remember that ship. It nearly killed me the last time we fought, and I relish the chance to return the favor in kind. It's main guns lock on to me, but my Siblings open fire and provide cover for myself and my Pilot. Closing the gap, we set our sights on The Enemy's bridge and open fire.
I sleep.
The battle has been won. The Enemy has been destroyed. I am content to rest now, and await the next engagement.
I sleep.
In my slumber, dozens of my Caretakers crawl along my body, their hands adjusting and tuning my worn surface. They keep me strong, fit and able. In return, I protect them and my Siblings from The Enemy.
A dull electric thrum from my damaged sensors alerts me to the presence of my Pilot standing among the Caretakers, eyeing my repairs with a worried gaze. The last battle was fierce, I lost my arm and the left side of my face in the exchange of gunfire and rockets.
I fear I will be unfit for battle when The Enemy next attacks.
I fear I am bereft of use, having been damaged so badly.
Without use, I am without purpose. Without purpose, am to be discarded, broken down so that my parts might strengthen my Siblings. It is an unsatisfying end, but a worthy one.
I sleep.
In my slumber, I feel myself being transported to an unknown destination. I am not worried, because the stressed drone of the carrier's engines tells me that we are headed towards the next battle. I have been restored to my former strength. I can fight, and with my Pilot, I am unstoppable.
Klaxons sound, and my Siblings murmur amongst themselves. They are younger than me, stronger, but untested. It is up to me to to show them who The Enemy is, and how to fight them. As The Pilots begin to arrive and orders are issued from Command, I warm up my weapons and start a test of my systems. Everything is in perfect working order.
I waken.
My machine gun roars, spewing fire and metal in an endless torrent of destruction. My sensors pick up a rocket that is locked on to my thrusters, and I send an warning to my Pilot. He triggers the decoys hidden within my frame and we turn our attention back to the battle. My Siblings and their Pilots take up their positions on my flanks, and we lead the charge towards The Enemy's main battleship.
I remember that ship. It nearly killed me the last time we fought, and I relish the chance to return the favor in kind. It's main guns lock on to me, but my Siblings open fire and provide cover for myself and my Pilot. Closing the gap, we set our sights on The Enemy's bridge and open fire.
I sleep.
The battle has been won. The Enemy has been destroyed. I am content to rest now, and await the next engagement.
