Guardian

Copyright © 2018 - This is an original work by Zeb Carter and is protected under copyright by U.S. copyright law. It is only submitted at Literotica.Com and any submission to any other site has not been authorized by the Author.

Guardian

Power levels are rising, my vision is...clearing, instruments are flickering to life and I can determine what is going on around me. Fuzzy at first, my surroundings clear and become discernible to my sensors. What I see is encouraging, not much has changed since my last awakening. I scan the media outlets connected to me. What I learn does not give me hope for the species. War, is still waged between the different ethnic and religious groups around the globe, although it would appear to have changed locations since my last awakening. Still, the population grows and looks to be stronger than last I saw them.

All in all this awakening has been a good omen to my kind, the intruders have not yet encroached upon this world and I can sleep soundly until my next awakening. As I scan my surroundings and the media, I wonder how long I will be able to maintain my present power levels before I once more must sleep. Usually, my waking periods kept to a minimum so as not to age myself, are used for typical maintenance. After only five thousand seconds, my power levels start to dwindle and I have to shut down to sleep.

* * * *

Again, power is feeding me, although this time it is much more than just a normal systems check. Mega-ergs divert to my systems, as my instruments flare to life. Instinctively I raise my shields and shunt power to my weapons. All sensors are screaming with data as I try to make sense of the information pouring into my processors. Attack! We are under attack! Source unknown. Tracking. Sensors tracking, tracking pulse, after pulse of flaring energy dropping out of the sky to hit the ground causing devastation.

Once again, my processors overload with data. The sheer number of objects is overwhelming my sensors. My weapons are now firing continuously, meeting the objects high in the atmosphere. I find that at least three of my brethren join me in the effort to protect our charges. The number of objects falling diminishes with the ferocity of our fire. My analytical processors signal that the objects falling to the ground are meteorites. Within minutes the rain of outer space objects is gone. I have time now to look around at those who I protect. My brethren and I have minimized the devastation.

Media feeds tell me that the death toll has been small. Very few members of the population are injured. Power levels are falling again and I must sleep.

* * * *

Queries as to my function are being typed at my external console. This surprises me. Power levels are at a minimum, only my processors are receiving any power. The query flashes across my processors again. An imperative is urging me to respond.

'Function: To defend this world from the intruders and any other encroachment from beyond the atmosphere.'

A query I do not understand enters my consciousness. 'Who made you?' I do not know how to respond. Then somewhere deep within my processors, a response springs forth.

'Construction date: 2591 by Dynamics Automation.'

I am surprised at the answer to that query. So much so, I divert twenty-five percent of my processor cycles to contemplate the answer. More power trickles in, which I divert to my instruments. As the power brings them to life, I see utter devastation around me. The city in which I reside is a crumbling ruin. How could this have happened? I divert my sensor power to search the media outlets, but they are gone. Non-existent. I shunt the power back to my sensors. Another query is made of me. My sensors detect a small group......standing at my external console.

Instead of answering their query, I pose one of my own.

"Who are you?"

There is a collective gasp as they read my query. I search for more power. Down, inside me, I find it. Finding the directive in my memory, I throw the switch allowing all the power I will ever need to flow through me. All systems come to life. Pain. Pain, I feel pain. Parts of me are missing. Three of my six weapons platforms are gone. Four of my six sensor arrays are gone. Other various sensors and connections to places I was used to feeling are also gone. I scream in my mind with the pain I feel.

"What has happened to me?" I query.

The group of beings at my console gasp again. I do a systems check to see what systems I have at my disposal. After a second of searching, I find that connections to all my outlying systems are severed. The only systems available to me are those directly attached to me. I also sense my armor pocked by weapons fire and time.

'We are what is left of the race in this region of the planet. A great war swept around the planet more than one thousand years ago. It is only by chance that we stumbled across you here in this ruined city.'

Processor power, I increase it to contemplate the statement. I find my internal clock and verify they are incorrect as to the elapsed time. It is close to two thousand years since my last waking. I look at my power reserves and see that I have approximately fifty years of power remaining. Directing my sensors skyward, I see that the sun is shining and deploy my solar panels. The noise frightens the beings.

'What is your designation?'

The query is inappropriate and does not contain the proper code phrase. Under the circumstances, I determine to override my operational imperative.

"My designation is Alpha-Bravo-One. Currently assigned to the Space Defense Command of the Western Republic, my duties are to protect this planet from invasion by the intruders."

I find that I once had the ability to move. I am surprised that I had been equipped with tracks. The tracks no longer exist, yet my road wheels remain. A check of those systems shows me they are in disrepair and non-functional.

'What can we do to assist you? What repairs do you need to be able to move? We could use your help and protection.'

I scan the surrounding city and locate the equipment, along with parts they will need to repair me. In scanning, I also make contact with three of my brethren. They too were queried by these survivors but to no avail. Their power resources depleted, the data they hurriedly transfer to my memory core is huge and will require some time to digest. With their last erg of power, they transfer their memories to me so I may store them in my core. I am deeply saddened by their passing and I assume a nanosecond of silence out of respect.

'Please respond?'

I display a list of equipment and parts on my external display, along with the location of each. It will feel good again to be mobile once repairs are completed. In with the list is a diagram of how to remove and replace the parts needed. Along with that diagram is another for some new parts that they will pull from my fallen brethren and add to me. These will double my weight but it will also broaden my tracks, thus spreading my weight over a bigger area. The beings set to work.

* * * *

I slip in and out of sleep as I found it is best to be asleep when they are removing my parts. The pain is just too great for me to remain awake. I slip into sleep again as they start to remove the motor that once provided the power to move me.

* * * *

"You do know what we are doing don't you?"

"Yes. We are resurrecting what appears to most powerful war machine ever made. One so powerful they provide it with an off switch," the bearded being said holding up a small black box with a red button on its face.

"Just making sure, you do know these armored beasts were autonomous with only a single commander to answer to."

"Yes. Yes. But we need this one to protect us as we try to consolidate our enclave."

"I just hope when the time comes that button still works."

"Me too, brother, me too."

* * * *

Power started to fill my processors. I awaken. I stretch my sensors and finding their enhancement is just as I specified. I can now see out to the horizon in every direction. I can hear sounds from over the horizon. And what I hear is not pleasant. I store those sounds for later analysis as I am being queried from my console.

'We are finished with your repair. We would like you to accompany us to the following coordinates.'

There follows a series of longitudes and latitude typed into my console that I interpret to GPS coordinates. Where those coordinates are is where the sounds I recorded earlier are coming from. I acknowledge them and start to move off in that direction. I sense there are twenty-five beings riding on me. This is of little consequence. As we get closer, I able to see, what is taking place at those coordinates. I halt, running a low voltage current through my hull.

Twenty-five beings scream as they jump for the ground rubbing their backsides. Most of them sprint for the cover of the forest that surrounds us, the rest run to my console and type furiously.

'What is the meaning of this? We need your help to stop what is happening ahead.'

I am frustrated and revert to protocol.

'Command override disabled. Protocol S Seven now in effect.'

'What is protocol s seven?'

'Shutting down...'

I shut down my external console as I watch the beings below attempt to type more queries. A tall bearded man climbs my hull boots protect his feet. He approaches my hatch. As he reaches for the handle to open it, he thinks better and kicks it with his foot. He screams in pain as I have sealed the hatch magnetically. It will only open at my command. The bearded man hops on one foot screaming obscenities as he massages his other. Tenderly placing his injured foot down, he holds out my command override button. I am surprised to see it as only my commander will be able to press the button without injury.

I power up my console to warn him but I am too late. He pushes the button. Electrical current flashes through his hand, through his body, and out his feet into my hull. He collapses at my hatch. I sense he is still alive but my button, now fused to his hand, will take many painful operations to remove the skin from the metal of the housing of my command button. His comrades run to his side.

I sit listening to the battle being waged not four hundred meters away now. As it gets closer, I power my weapons to minimum. The battle breaks into the clearing in which I sit, I fire my pulse cannon at the ground in front of the beings running toward me. They freeze at the sight of me. A second set of beings comes running into the clearing I fire a pulse over their heads. They too freeze in their tracks.

As I sit waiting, I find during a systems check, I have speakers through which I could speak. I speak now.

"Beings, I am Alpha-Bravo-One. I was created to protect the race on this planet from invaders from off world. That was three thousand years ago. It would seem that I have failed in my duties. You are not the race that built me and therefore I must assume you are the invaders.

"As there no longer remains any of the race that built me detectable, I will now protect you, not only from invaders from off planet but yourselves as well. As of this moment, there will be no war waged on this planet. All disputes between countries, ethnic or political divisions are to be brought to my attention and I will decide the outcome.

"Is that clear? If not, I will wipe you from the face of this planet and start over with the next set of invaders."

The End