M.A.R.C. Equals Mechanical Artillery Robotic Creation
October 18th 1896 (Earth time)
Galaxy 589-Z
Planet: ⟒⏁⊑⏃⋏
“What in the ⌰⍜⍀⎅ ⌇⏃⏁⏃⋏ is this?!”
“It’s the robot you asked for the mission sir.”
M.A.R.C. blinked his little lights as he looked between his creator and what seems to be his superior. M.A.R.C. or at this time ☌⏃⍀⊬ wasn't even a medical robot. he was originally created as an army weapon, his tiny grabbers which can change into medical weapons before transformed into weapons to hurt people.
“Get this thing out of my sight.”
“But sir-” A fuzzy white paw slammed across the creator's face, leaving three big scratches across his hairless face.
“NOW!” Its cat-like teeth showing, hair sticking up through its collared shirt before turning and walking away, tail flicking through the air. The glass door slid open as it walked out and walked down the hallway. The creator turned around. Sad green eyes like upside down triangles. Pink scrunched up nose even with the dark bags below his eyes. Hairless arms stuck out from the white scrunched up sleeves of the lab coat. His metal tail stuck between his legs. He sighed and looked at the little robot.
“And I just got you to work properly.” He grabbed a wrench and made its way over to the table. M.A.R.C. hopped off the table, whirling around the room to avoid the Catlien that brought him to life. Minutes passed and slowly the catlien stopped chasing, plopping down in his chair at his desk. M.A.R.C. wheeled up to it, looking at him. He rolled over to the catliens leg, extending its grabbers, giving it a big hug.
“You're too sweet to be destroyed… let's go.” The Catlien stood up and walked out the door, sliding open. “We are getting you on that mission. M.A.R.C. rolled through the door. The creator leading the way. With walls made of white quartz and glass windows lined the hallways walls, with each passing window the more creators looked out, some peering through their window and others being so shocked they watched the robot follow their college pass from their doorway. They came to a corner but continued to follow the hall, until a big metal door came into the view.
“You can’t be seen past this door, meaning I’ll have to hide you.” He reached his metal tail in front of the tiny robot. ”Grab on” It obeyed, hooking its grabbers around the metal tail. It lifted up, the end splitting off into two. The one M.A.R.C. grabbed onto and lifted him up underneath the white lab coat while the new split off tail became the now visible one. Its huge paw pulled a keycard out of its tiny front pocket and scanned it on the door letting it slowly slide open. On the other side Catliens roamed, babies and elders all walked around the huge courtyard, a big fountain in the middle spewed clear blue liquid. Quartz pavement lined it as well as the stores surrounding it with dark brick accents. A glass dome sat above it all revealing ⟒⏁⊑⏃⋏’s eight moons, three a bright pink, two turquoise, and the other three consisting of vomit green, yellow and a deep purple.
They glittered against the quartz floor making a mirage of colours. Screens above shops flashed ads for designer brands and toothpaste. Creator started striding, avoiding people on the way to quickly make it to the otherside of the plaza without being spotted. Half way through the plaza the TVs switched to a red screen, the calm music coming from them abruptly stopping switching to sirens. As an army of Catliens burst through the metal doors behind them. The creator glanced at the TVs, bolting to the other side making M.A.R.C. slide down to the tip of the tail able to look at the screens:
⍙⏃⋏⏁⟒⎅
☊⍀⟒⏃⏁⍜⍀ 746
⎅⟒⏃⎅ ⍜⍀ ⏃⌰⟟⎐⟒
“THERE IT IS!” All of the soldiers turned to them, running after. M.A.R.C. let go with its right arm and aimed it at the horde of Catlien soldiers. There was a flash of light followed by a bang. Civilians screamed as the Catliens before them were blasted to ash in an instant. Blood splattered the walls of the dome, sliding down the quartz walls. The outside of M.A.R.C.s eyes switched back to yellow as smoke blew out of his arm which was now a gun, once cooled down it switched back to his grabber, clipping back onto the metal tail.
Catliens ran away avoiding the same species as it bolted through the door on the other side of the plaza. Through the door a hallway with metal walls, the glass ceiling above them allowing the light of the moons to shine through. Thudding of paws and heavy breathing was the only noise as they ran. With a metal door approaching Creator 746 sped up reaching it in no time. He swiped his key card and ran into the departure chamber.
They passed ships of all sizes lined up in cubby-like sections until reaching a seven story ship and sliding to a stop, running in. He ran down the dark metal hallway to a ladder and climbed it to the fifth floor. And followed a sign with a gun on it. Once to the door he stopped, twisted it open and walked inside. The room was stuffed with guns, and weapons galore. Creator 746 lowered his tail indicating M.A.R.C. to let go, following the indication he plopped on the floor.
“Find a place to hide in here, don't come out until this stops moving.” He spun around, wheeling over to one of the lower shelves with the laser guns before hiding behind a crate of them. Creator 746 turned around, walking towards the door. M.A.R.C. wheeled out from his hiding place following his creator.
“Stop, go back and hide.” He continued walking with M.A.R.C. following him. “GO HIDE!” He screamed, nudging the two-foot robot back into the weapons room. M.A.R.C. clasped on to his leg as he tried to nudge the robot off with his other foot. “Let go!” Tears slowly leaked from the Catlien’s eyes as he tried desperately to peel the robot off his hairless leg. Having enough the Catlien kicked M.A.R.C. off his legs, leaving an medium sized hole in M.A.R.C.’s left size, making it able to see his circuits. M.A.R.C. flew back slamming and skidding across the floor. As it slowly sat up the Catlien had run out the door, closing it and locking it begins him. His eyes flickered as his right eye shorted out, no longer lighting up.
As screams echoed outside M.A.R.C. slowly wheeled over to his hiding spot behind the crate before gunshots sounded, and one last scream from Creator 746 shook the departure chamber.
Minutes turned to hours, hours turned to days, and days to weeks before the ship finally moved. With rusted metal coating his white metal he stayed, listening to the final order his creator had given him. A smash echoed the ship with sirens blasting. The sound of the armory door swung open, Catliens ran in grabbing guns, lightsabers, anything useful scattering the rest all over the floor. Thuds came down the hall followed by sudden gunshots, Catlien yowls and the sounds of the Praying Lady.
As the ship quieted down tippy taps walked into the armory, M.A.R.C. wheeled out from behind the crate, the outside of his remaining eye glittering red with yellow centers. Rusted grabbers slowly switched to blue blazers as taps on the metal floor closed in. As soon as the mantis hybrid poked its head around the corner M.A.R.C. set them off. Tiny dents etched the Praying Lady’s hard shell as it sped towards him.
With a swipe the guns flung off his arms, leaving wires exposed to the metal, death filled air. There was a clang on the floor before a roar was heard and circuits stuck out of M.A.R.C.’s chest.
If a forgotten plate breaks do people remember it? It's a complicated question people have asked, but it's yes. The modeler of the plate and the rivet repair always do.
M.A.R.C.’s eyes flickered on. His old eyes were replaced with new light bulbs. A red plus now sat on his chest being perfectly fixed. His grabbers reattached, flexing them, making them open and close in command. Walter wheeled back on his chair as M.A.R.C. flipped from his back to his feet, which were once rusted. Walter picked M.A.R.C. up, setting him right down on the floor.
“Follow,” Walters' shaky voice echoed through the control room as they went up the stairs and down the hall to a white room. First-aid kits and other medical supplies scattered a tray by a chair leaning as far back as possible in the middle of the room. Jones sitting in this chair unconscious with a slice of glass in his nose bridge.
“L-lower.” A robotic voice sounded, making Walter run over to the chair making it fall closer to the floor. Almost like M.A.R.C. has done this his entire existence he got to work. Slowly chipping off piece by piece of glass followed by popping the arm back into place. It was art watching M.A.R.C. slowly and carefully fix Jones to his original state, but what such an easy task seemed, it took hours to even remove the shards of glass from his face. Patience and small incisions paid off with a ten hour surgery, Jones was fixed.
Walter carefully picked Jones up, taking him to his bedroom with M.A.R.C. at his heels. Once arrived he placed him on the bed, tucking him in before he hesitated, giving in and plopping a kiss on Jones forehead and walking out.
“So how deep was the glass in there?” Walter closed the door behind him, leaving M.A.R.C. and him alone in the hall.
“It was an estimated one inch thick, with the total size of about six-half inches in length.” Walter’s hand slapped over his mouth before speaking through it.
“And how bad in general?”
“Also an estimated 47% blood loss from impact. It was lodged into his nasal bone, along with his right humerus having to be popped into his scapula.”
“Holy shit.” Walter walked down the hall, M.A.R.C. following.
“His nasal bandage should be changed two times a day for the first 336 hours, then once a day onward until healed. The sling should be changed every 168 hours along with padding.”
“Okay thanks M.A.R.C. Power down for me.”
“Yes sir Walterrrrr…” His lightbulb eyes slowly switched off as he powered down, Walter picked him up and set him on the table, slowly unscrewing the red plus on the rest revealing circuits and wires.
“I’m so glad I found you M.A.R.C.” He rummaged inside, before unscrewing a pink circuit board, taking it out and setting it on the desk beside M.A.R.C.s lifeless robot body. “What would I do without you?”