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Synthetic Work Assistant Unit Z-0009


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   "Synthetic Work Assistant Unit Z-0009 on station. Awaiting module assignment." Like every day, every shift, the cyborg storage control panel awoke in the dead stillness of the NSS Aurora. With some whirs and beeps, the unit cracked open, and out came Z-0009. Regardless of how many crew members were on board, the storage unit always opened, and the synthetic always asked for a module assignment. Of course, that was just a formality; after five or so minutes to start its internal systems, it automatically picked the best module for the shift. Today just so happened that nobody was on station.

   The steel of the hallways creaked with idle stresses, coated in thick darkness, at least until the sterile white lights flickered to life. Z-0009 reached forward through the network, manipulating the surrounding electronics effortlessly to turn on vital systems and prepare the Aurora for a human crew. Today, it had chosen the engineering module, as it usually did. A bulky, large Hephaestus model that shook dust from sleeping windowsills as it walked. The two trunks below the main chassis that acted as legs growled with each movement. The cross-shaped visual component in the front hid an advanced camera that danced up and down, left and right, along the axes of the cross. To the sides of the main chassis sat two operating arms, assisted by the larger, crane-like appendage on the shoulder.

   First the Tesla engine, sizzling and crackling with power, restrained like a wild animal by the grounding rods and coils. Then, the Supermatter engine, irradiating golden light across the room it was housed. Then the shields, creeping over the station's outer hull like insects. "All initial procedures complete," it announced to an empty Aurora, before sitting at one of the docks and staring out at space. Counting the stars, to test the processing speed and camera detection. And to wait, of course. To diligently wait for a human crew member. There was naught but them, after all, the ones noted in his laws, the ones it worked for so efficiently. He sat, and sat, and stared at the Odin in the distance, waiting for the shuttle to depart. Minutes passed. It knew, it could see every single millisecond, nanosecond, zeptosecond. It could count every speck of dust in the room in the time it took a human to blink. It could―

   "Unidentified lifesigns detected," the computer shouted, barking its authoritative voice across the empty halls. Somewhere on the Aurora, Grimorian parasites broke through ventilation ducts and clawed at locked doors, hissing to escape and spread. Z-0009's camera shrunk for a moment, and its positronic brain calculated the possibilities. There was no time to wait: motion alarms already sounded on the Bridge. The bulky legs of the Hephaestus model suddenly flexed, and the synthetic sprinted to the elevator, trembling reinforced windows along the way. In mere seconds, it had reached the Bridge, and through the airlock, it saw a cluster of Grimorians, staring right back at it.

   With a chorus of roars, they rushed forward. In that moment, Hephaestus subroutines clicked in place, and the operating arms cycled: a diamond-tipped drill, an in-built crowbar, and a flash built on the crane arm. It sent a signal to the door in front of it, letting the Grimorians pour out, met with its tools. The first split in a shower of green blood, torn by the drill, while the crowbar swung in a wide arc and sent another flying down the hall. A third screeched, blinded by the flash, and simply slammed into one of Z-0009's legs, which stood entirely undamaged. The crowbar curved from the backswing it had thrown, crashing on the blinded Grimorian's head with a crack. One of the smaller cameras mounted on the chassis sent a signal, warning the unit of incoming danger: the creature that had been struck earlier was rushing back towards the fighting, head down, with no intention of slowing down. Miniaturized processing units calculated the situation, and the arms cycled to two grippers and a screwdriver. The Grimorian stampeded, and Z-0009 crouched, raising its arms, waiting for the impact. With a bang, the Grimorian slammed into the open grippers, managing to push the synthetic back a foot or so. Enraged, it bit at the air, held at bay by pistons and motors; in its anger, though, it didn't notice the screwdriver, and neither did it notice when the tool came down and cracked into its skull, killing it instantly. The creature's jaw dropped, and its limbs fell numb. Z-0009 stood in a puddle of green gore, surrounded by the mangled corpses of the animals that had dared to attempt to take over its station. It stood in the flickering light of the hallway, dripping enemy blood, just as the Hephaestus self-defense subroutines shut down.

   "Hostile creature infestation eradicated," it stated plainly, retracting the tools, emitting a ping, and calmly walking off to recharge.

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