Renascentia - Malfunction 3D Render, Digital Artwork by RedSpartan

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Renascentia - Malfunction

3D Render by RedSpartan

The drone whirred and clicked to itself, swivelling on its pivot joint suspended from a track that criss-crossed the ceiling. She noted that much of the track looked rusted and worn, in places badly damaged, limiting the mechs movement about the room, and the thing itself was covered in grime and dried dirty oil. Clearly there had been little maintenance done here for quite some time.

It was then she noticed the corpse lying against a wall behind the mech, almost lost in the steam and smoke and glare of the things led’s as it shuffled about before her. The body was desiccated down to nothing but a skeleton, still wearing ripped and aged coveralls and sat back against the wall as if it had decided to take a nap an eon ago. The water covering the floor had started to rot the fabric in an even line, mildew and algae beginning their inevitable claim of the body.

How long had she been in that tank? What the hell had happened here?

She began to get to her feet, her legs aching with the effort. Muscle stimulation was part of a regen tanks remit, to avoid degeneration of her healthy limbs as her wounds healed. But she knew some deterioration was inevitable and physio therapy would be required, especially if her immersion in the tank had been prolonged. And it was looking like she’d been in there for quite some time.

With her movement the mech suddenly stopped its anxious fidgeting and fixed her with its red stare. She sensed something profound had changed in its attitude and she sat back carefully in the cold water, backing carefully away. The mechs head lowered, as if in thought, then moved back and forth as if disagreeing with itself. The sight would have seemed amusing if it hadn’t also been so disconcerting. Suddenly the head shot up with a whir of servos and gears, the holo now changing to a glaring red ‘danger’ motif. The appendages at its flanks moving forward in an angry gesture, clearly a sign of aggression. She shuffled backwards, her arm reaching, searching for something to defend herself with. Her hand fell almost immediately on what appeared to be a metal rod half submerged, covered in an oily residue and rust. She wasn’t sure how long the rod was, or how strong it would be, but she gripped it tightly and, with less effort than she initially expected pushed herself to her feet. The mech rose up, tilting back on its umbilical bracket like some grotesque metal spider, its legs, tips glowing red as they powered up its weapons sweeping forward and pointing towards a foci in front of its head.

She wasn’t sure what weapon the machine could yield, or how it might hurt her, but every instinct she had urged her to action and without a moments thought she attacked.

Mechs were dangerous. Mechs couldn’t be trusted. Where she came from mechs were outlawed and had to be destroyed at all costs. This knowledge was at the very core of her being. She didn’t even yet know her own name or how she’d ended up in this awful place but she was certain of one fundamental thing, this metal monstrosity had to die. She raised the metal bar and screamed.

To Be Continued…

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Second part as promised. Would have posted it earlier but stuff got in the way...has been an odd week.