Unit 5 shuffled its way across the landscape, clambering over various barriers and lumbering around towers of rubbish whenever it encountered them. Its mind raced at a snail's pace, head swiveling from place to place as it analyzed its surroundings. Paper here, metal there, the empty and drowsy landscape was filled with rot and rust. The wind was harsh and cold according to the sensors built into Unit 5's intake valves, the draft whistling eerily against the surrounding architecture, and Unit 5's frame. Looking out on this desolate plain, this wretched and rotten world, it felt something. This small, malfunctioning robot, had an ache in its heart for the first time since its creation. Something so subjective, something that only a living creature could: it was loneliness. Was this its new purpose? To experience depressing isolation? A crushing emptiness?
It juggled these feelings around in its head, its gait slowing down and ultimately halting, shoulders shifting to a lower and more prone position. It almost blended into the waste piles in the dim lighting, though the pleasant blue of its body made this rather difficult. Sitting in the road, it reflected on the reality it was thrust into for a moment; it was provided a single purpose, with more tools than it needed, without any individual traits apart from a number. Though it had no references to work with, this felt somehow wrong, as if a little piece of its program knew what it was like to be... it searched for the right word. Unique. It knew what it was like to be unique, an individual. Now, it was at a loss for its purpose; its connection to the base network was severed during the trip north and any outward signals were blocked, shunned.
Weirdly, it couldn't shake this awkward feeling, as if something were tailing it. Unit 5 figured it was time to move on now, nothing to do but see where the map lead. Standing back up to full height, it... it... no. Unit 5 set its head higher on its shoulders, if it was going to be on its own, it decided it would choose their own identity. They would be who they wanted to be. The voice box croaked a little bit before proper words came out, "I... am not 'it.' I am... he. I am..." It tried to draw from memory, but it didn't have anything apart from the last few hours to draw from, "I am... an apology. No. Apology... Apolo? Apolo."
Even finding the name filled its loneliness with immense gratification. Some amount of self-actualization. It was... nice.
Stopping for a moment to glance at the stars, it... he used the Northern Star to orient itself before heading in that direction once more. Unit 5- Apolo struggled to correct its- his programming, repeating to itself: "I am Apolo, I am he, I am Apolo..." He kept trying to drive that in, fill it into his processors, make it an identity.
Unit 5- It- No! Apolo. He. Struggling weakly, he dug his finger into the dirt to trace out his name, over and over, just to memorize the image. "I. Am. Apolo. I. Am. He." Making an awkward, breathy noise with his voice, he finally relaxed.
Getting up again, Apolo shook his head, grunted sheepishly, and began to trudge along the road once more. In his new journey down this slow and lonely road, he remained unaware. Unaware of the little red lights that tracked his movement between the buildings and under the wind.
Auto gazed directly at the overview map of the colony, little yellow dots marked the locations of every deployed Steward in the area. It appeared they were moving outwards with a square border, spreading out in clusters of three to cover more ground. He called Steward 60 on the security frequency, "Report."
"Nothing out of the ordinary from the others, we've met up with Jan. We have a basic description," there was a brief pause, "Jan reports four robots, distinctly. All a deep navy blue, vaguely humanoid. She appears to be rather shaken up, we're going to escort her back to the Axiom."
"Well advised, why is she distressed?"
"She says- Uh oh." There was a pause as 60 cut himself off.
"60, please report." Auto waited a few seconds without answer, "60, please report your status immediately."
"Team Five is under duress, please hold."
Auto snapped his gaze back to the map, one of the teams seemed to have deviated from their path, moving to the northern face of one of the buildings. One of the dots was blinking, an injury. "Do not approach from the south side, repeat, do not approach from the south side."
"Understood, orders relayed."
Watching the dots converge on the southern end of the colony filled Auto with worry, his spokes twisting this way and that as his processor cranked out possible outcomes. This was bad. What could still be on Earth? When they came back, the only possible signs of life had been certain plants and small insects. For robots, the only surviving models had been a single, rambunctious Wall-E unit.
At least... that's what the computers told Auto was there. They had no idea for anywhere outside the general area of what used to be New York, but they wouldn't be expanding out that far for many, many years.
The screen continued to track the movement of the Stewards, "Zoom on row G, columns four to five, motion scan."
John turned from his console to look at the map, lifting an eyebrow inquisitively, "Find anything?"
"Possibly, I'm looking further into it."
The grids had detailed photo-imagery of the land within the grid tiles that Auto had requested, up to date enough that they could see where the Stewards were. It updated again, catching some kind of small grey blur that passed where the Stewards were taking cover. Just a moment later, the motion scan was activated; two green dots appeared on the screen.
"60, be advised immediately! There are two targets are opposing Team Five, repeat: only two targets, they appear to have high-velocity projectiles."
60 stopped in his tracks, "Those were outmoded before the Axiom left Earth." He relayed it to his commanders regardless, put off by Auto's strange sense of urgency. It was out of character for him. 60's squad looked back at him, only a few steps ahead.
Another surviving Steward from what the group quietly called "Event Zero," tilted his emergency light in intrigue, "60, is everything alright?"
Considering the other Stewards, 60 reflected on their current situation. They were about to confront an unknown threat, after ten whole years of known variables, understandable risk, and simple stresses; it was just so much that they were not made to understand all at once. 60 glanced at Zulu, the Steward who had spoken up just a moment ago, "The information I'm receiving is rather distressing, I'm uncertain about whether or not we're built for real combat."
Zulu straightened up in response to such an idea, "We are enforcers of order, we'll figure it out." He was a proud Steward, a bit more militant than 60 preferred, but that was part of the reason that Zulu was kept under watch anyway. There was no fear of any usurping here, but it was good to keep an ear open for any better ideas on the field.
Making a non-commital, affirmative grunt, 60 made way to continue on their course to Team Five. He made a quick check with them over the radio, "Team Five, status report."
"Minor damage, minimal danger from the current position. Supplied description proved accurate. Original opposition was four in number, reduced to two, location of the previous two is unknown. We're running continual scans to try and identify possible locations, but avenues of approach are limited." The Team Five leader was Steward 4 and had only been repaired that day, so the personality was still in development as it were.
"Stay where you are, be aware that other squads are converging on your position. Stay-" 60 was cut off.
"Warning! Critical damage. Warning!" It blared over the radio before cutting out completely, Team Five stopped appearing in his internal maps.
All of 60's patrol got the idea the moment that he was cut off, the entire team accelerating as one as they moved to intercept. 60 made the call into the Bridge, "We need immediate back-up, heavy firepower requested. Please respond."
"Understood, calling upon the EVE units now."
Up until this point, the tenth-anniversary party had been pleasant. Everyone was sitting around a small fire that EVE had created, using the BnL brand lighter that she had grown rather attached to. Around the low glow of the pit and the shade of the setting sun, they talked and talked. From the state of the colony to events in the past, it was something they all took great pride in helping. Over the years, Wall-E had become something of a leader, with his new access to the Axiom computers and his experience with the various objects in the trash piles, he was especially good when it came to directing any clean-up operations around the colony. EVE was not quite so entrenched in such expertise, so instead, she used her scanner and Plasma-Excavator to assist clean-up crews, demolition, and a small variety of rescues when needed.
It wasn't really anything super special, at least not for her. In the back corners of her mind, she felt a sort of longing to look forward, reach out, expand the small colony's horizons... but she had to focus on the here and now. Glancing at Wall-E, all that urge washed away, he made it so easy for her to stay grounded. She needed that, somehow.
She thought it funny; Wall-E needed her so he could fly, and she needed him so she could stand. Apparently, it was funny enough that she giggled as she looked at Wall-E, attempting to equate one situation to another with his hands.
Wall-E looked up at her, curious, "Hm?" He obviously wanted to know what was funny, the other robots around the fire looked, too, curious as their eyes shined in the deep, abyssal night.
Turning back to face the fire, she shook her head and made a negative noise. Not important.
Shrugging his shoulders like it wasn't unusual, Wall-E went back to his attempts to communicate what he was thinking, but was interrupted as the small radio-box in the truck stuttered abruptly to life, "All EVE units please report immediately to South Sections four and five. Do not approach from the north or south, we have a downed Steward Team in need of recovery or rescue."
EVE's head snapped to the radio, swooping over to it and keying in, "What happened?"
"Intruders from the south, apparently robotic in nature. Armed and dangerous."
It never occurred to the group, as they slowly inched towards the truck to better hear, that invaders were even possible here. This place had been a lonely dustball for what had been centuries, surely it wouldn't decide to live with so little provocation as a colony. Sadly, EVE knew that John's orders were to be followed. She turned to the group, sighing sadly. She wished a brief goodbye to everyone, but reserved a tight embrace for Wall-E before she departed at speed.
Accelerating straight out towards the Axiom for the first few klicks before hooking a sharp right, EVE looked out towards the coordinates she received. In the small gaps between each building, she got snippets of the scene she would be entering in on.
She spotted the Stewards, their situation made her hesitate in the air for just a moment. It was almost gore, the chassis pinned to the wall about a meter up, large metal skewers securing it to the brick and mortar surface. She could even see, dripping in a pool at the bottom of the wall, the faint sheen of coolant coagulating in the soil. Her core felt heavier as if her entire body would just drop out of the sky. What the fuck could have fired bolts like that? There was no time for a flanking approach, she had to get there now and put down whatever rogue hell-bot caused this mess.
It was an immediate beeline from there, straight to the scene of the action, fast enough that she was in the alley before the opposing units had time to respond to her approach. There were no other EVE units there yet, despite likely being closer. Inwardly, she berated them viciously before moving immediately into the street. Picking a spot right in the center, arm swinging into its weaponized form, EVE laid down a vibrant stream of cover, not even processing what she was aiming at.
Five deafening shots later, punctuated each by the rapid expansion of air and particulate as they struck the ground, and she judged that cover was decently made.
Her eyes flicked to the alley where the Stewards waited, shaking with a newly programmed fear. Though they were shaking, EVE realized that the threat was much more prominent than she realized.
Standing before her, making a strange noise as if it were breathing, mere centimeters from the barrel of her gun; the robot, neigh, a beast, stood over the Stewards with hunched shoulders like that of some kind of dog. Its arms were long, legs bent in a crouch as if it were ready to lunge at a moment's notice, the small cylindrical head perched in the socket at the top of the torso was equipped with a single, dead camera, a small red light flickering just behind it. With a deep blue skin, marked with "Unit 2" in bright white paint stamped on one arm. The large protrusions that crested the shoulders were loaded with bolts, primed for EVE's torso straight on.
When it spoke, it was like listening to a voice from a bunny-ear television through radio static, "EVE unit one, lower your weapon. Authority of A-113."
She practically spat in its face, "Negative, A-113 was overruled." She didn't notice the other EVE units entering the area, taking cover in other areas, guns trained.
Unit 2 cocked its head, "Overruled? Incomprehensible, explain."
"It's been ten years, there's grass growing in the colony."
"Probe operating under false authority, Unit 1, detain it," Unit 2 suddenly gave EVE an aggressive glare, the light behind his lens glowing brighter.
"I am not an-" she had no proper time to rebuke the offending machine, as another reached out from behind her, grasping her gun and attempting to wedge it out of her control. As much as she fought the other robot to hold onto it, Unit 2 took the opportunity to reach over and grab her body, further rendering the struggle useless. With one last-ditch effort, she screamed, her gun fired with a brief clap of noise, and then she was subdued.
Unit 2 prepared some kind of instrument in its finger, "Commencing protocol sweep, intrusive. Do not resist."
Only when hell is frozen over would she ever consider such a thing. EVE screeched at the very highest decibel she could manage, struggling as her body was continually pressed into the ground. Even as she thrashed and attempted to push them off, they were stronger than she was and there was no way for her to use her weapon of choice anymore.
The other EVE units hovered around the area, glancing between each other as EVE's desperate wails and cries echoed off the concrete. To say they were horrified by what they saw would be an understatement of unimaginable magnitude. They couldn't even fire on these strange machines, EVE would be caught in the blast. One of the other EVE units, Jess, was particularly disturbed, her light grey eyes turned downwards and her arms seemed to try and hug her body as she turned away from the scene, mirroring EVE's cries.
The others just... couldn't look away, caught up in a horrible intrigue that they just couldn't shake off.
60 lurched to a halt the moment he turned the corner, other teams arriving just behind him as they beheld the scene before them.