Cold Machines

Chapter 3

Hey Hey Hey Its me again BattleUnit3 with another chapter! Some of you said that you like my writing and that it is of decent quality. Well thank you kind sir's and/or madam's! I will try my best to not F it up.


"Welcome to Winterhome Research Station 3". The building was obviously artificial. Tampered metal not to mention the writing on the door. The Geth didn't understand the meaning of the writing as it didn't appear in its databanks(considering it was a first contact it made sense) and the omnitool couldn't translate with so little information.

Shelter was shelter so the unit put its hands on door and pushed. Nothing. So it pulled. Still nothing. Was it locked? On the door there was a wheel with arrows pointing a turning action. Turning it was difficult as it was frozen solid but the machines superior strength won out. A strong click was heard from the door signaling the fall of the lock.

The door opened slowly, giving a defeated screech, just before being fully opened. The room that was inside was cold and dark. Machines with buttons and levers filled the walls with chairs staring at them. In the back there was a torn cloth curtain attempting to hide beds. In the middle there was a large table with several chairs. The table had on it what appeared to be a giant map of the area. Over the map there were different types tools, cups, sheets of paper. Paper? Council Species haven't used paper in millennia.

The Geth slowly circled the room observing the dwelling. Everything was frozen solid. At least they were hidden from the wind. None of the machines worked most likely lack of power. Not that they knew how to operate them or what they did. In the back near the beds there was a small library filled with books. Books like paper were a rarity in Council Space.

Returning t the main room the Geth finally realized that one of the chairs on the main table wasn't empty. The terminal moved in for closer inspection. On it was a creature covered in what one would assume was heavy clothing. The being had a layer of frost covering it but defining features were still visible. It looked much like an asari, only difference was its completely white skin, but that could be affected by the cold, and the replacement of the headcrest with what the Geth would assume is fur. Further examination found signs of heavy trauma on the side of the creature's head. There was hole in it and what the scanners could detect a piece of mostly lead and some copper. Travelling down to the hand of the being, five digits much like the asari, they discovered a curios sight. A chunk of solid metal or at least for anyone without basic knowledge of weaponry. The basics were there a handgrip, a barrel and a cylinder for the thermal clips. But this world had no eezo or mass effect tech so why was there a place for thermal clip. For a nanosecond a single Geth program considered it sad that the only thing they could truly understand about these organics was their tools of war.

Getting the weapon out of the cold dead hands was not easy. The body showed remarkable resistance. Closer examination of the weapon showed complete lack of thermal clips or a power source. What purpose did this cylinder serve. Surprisingly the cylinder opened itself to the side showing 6 holes filled with smaller cylinders. Picking one out the Geth finally realized the principal behind the weapon.

It used a chemical compound inside the smaller cylinders to cause an explosion which pushed the pointy bit of it to launch at high speeds. Considering the lack of eezo it made sense that what they couldn't do with speed they would achieve with mass.

Throwing a glance at the body the Geth though how organics made so little sense. They were so illogical. In their history they would time and time again claim that all life is sacred. They would even go to war to preserve was inefficient as that sound. But they wouldn't accept the Geth or would do things like this. Suicide, willingly taking their own life when often they would fight to the bitter end. Why?

Leaving the question for later review the machines needed information. This little outpost couldn't be self-sufficient. But to get any information it needed to know the language.

So they returned to the library and began scanning them. Words without meaning but it was better than nothing. It was able to conclude that the species used a decimal system and the position of digit determined its value. This was due to the recurring symbols at the bottom of the pages on most books. Several of those books were scientific in nature, so they could get a glimpse into their math. For a primitive species by council standards they were surprisingly competent. The omnitool began to gather the information. Being Geth they could interface with the omnitool directly sharing the burden of information. It already had basic understanding of their language and math.

They weren't going to be holding any conversations soon though. For a number of reasons. Words had meaning but the grammar was completely lost to them. And second they had no idea how to pronounce the words. Third they doubted there would be any organics left to have a conversation with. Not that they would want to talk they would most likely attack the Geth at first sight.

In the corner an interesting machine stood. The label read "generator". Thankfully the translation software had been able to translate correctly. On the side was what would be considered a manual on how to operate. It appeared the generator ran on black rocks made mostly of carbon. Putting some in and providing the spark the furnace like "generator" came to life blasting heat throughout the building. The lights also came on lighting the entire place.

Organics would now consider the previous death trap as cozy. Most of the equipment hadn't come back online probably due to damage. The lights showed that the generator was producing electricity as well as heat. The Geth reached a consensus to have a break to recharge their batteries and let the omnitool develop a full translation. Sticking one of the exposed wires on itself would be considered suicide. For Organics that was true but for them that was the fastest way their inner artificial muscles were conductive of electricity.


A few hours later with batteries recharged the Geth rose up from its sitting position near the generator. The Omnitool had formed a translation of the human language. The energy transfer wasn't as pleasant as it would seem. The generator needed to be fed the black rock every 2 hours.

The terminal went to the large table and began calculating. They looked at the map. Research Station 3. That's where they were, they remembered by pulling the image of the sign outside. They spotted a settlement being crossed out and designated with a large letters "Winterhome". That must be where they were. The position wasn't far only 6 kilometers judging by the scale of the map written in the corner. The Geth stopped. How long was a the organics' kilometer? A plan formed in their head. They would need to go to nearest landmark calculate the distance to it from there get a understanding of the organics' method for telling distance. They knew about centimeters, decimeters, meters and kilometers and their relations from the books but didn't know exactly how long was one. They prepared to go when they spotted something on the table. A thin piece of organic plant matter with small numbers equally spaced. 1 cm. This was obviously a measuring tool. The Geth were happy that they didn't have to walk all the way to the nearest landmark to figure it out.

Winterhome was far but they could reach it, their batteries were recharged after all. A plan was formed. As much as the Geth wouldn't like to admit they needed help from the organics. Hopefully they wouldn't shoot first.

Something else caught the attention of the terminal before leaving. On the table near the dead being was piece of paper with writing on it. The machine approached and began reading.

"To anyone reading this know that we failed. 6 kilometers east from here lay the ruins of our "great" city. I was sent here to observe the weather patterns in an attempt to predict the future. Too bad I couldn't predict human (species name?) stupidity. Damn those fools to hell. We supposed to help the refugees. That was our goal. That's why we were sent here. To build a city ahead of others and help them build their own. But No, someone got greedy, they didn't want to share. A civil war began there. Of course the engineers in their infinite wisdom (sarcasm?) decided to forsake their duty and join in the war. I bet you can guess what happens when you leave a giant tower of heat and steel unsupervised. Listen to me. There is only one truth. THE CITY MUST SURVIVE! We forsake our duty and now we are all going to die. My wife and daughter were there. I worked myself to near death to get them a spot near the generator so they would never be cold and, in the end, it's what killed them. My colleagues left to find their loved ones. I know better than to hope. Jasmine and Anna are dead. And soon enough I will join them. With Regards Marcus Patton."

The Geth left the building deep in thought. The human, at least that's how it referred to its species, had committed suicide. They already knew that but they now knew the reason. A tragic story. Geth couldn't comprehend loneliness and hopelessness. They were always together. Without the other Geth program, a Geth program wasn't even sentient. And they always had purpose. To build their future. But this human had lost it all. He had no others and his city was destroyed. What would Geth do if they couldn't build their future. Would they do the same thing?

Suddenly a signal was received on shortwave radio. It was a series of burst. One of the books contained something about that. It was Morse code. The omitool began translating it. Was it always this dark? Asked themselves uncharacteristically the Geth. Looking up they saw a massive metal behemoth standing on four limbs casting a shadow upon the lone unit. A giant spotlight activated, illuminating the Geth Terminal. Then the signal came again. This time the omnitool was able translate it.

"Identify. Yourself."


Its the bane of your existence. The most hated thing ever. ITS A CLIFFHANGER!

I sold my soul to Hollywood, sorry guys and gals.

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