Page 3 of Salvation for the Alien Mercenary
The ping led her around a tall stack of what looked like hull plating to a section they hadn't searched yet. With each step, the scanner's beeping got louder, leading her to a jumbled heap of mechanical parts. The air here smelled different—charged, like the aftermath of a lightning strike.
And then she saw it and her eyes widened.
There was a robot partly buried under smaller debris—or what remained of one anyway. It had a squat central body with articulated legs extending outward, though only three of what appeared to be eight legs were there. The rest were broken off to leave metallic stumps and trailing wires. Most of the multitude of ‘eyes’ across the front of the body were damaged, with only a few still glowing with a faint blue light that pulsed gently.
As she approached, the eyes that worked swiveled toward her. Its legs twitched, and one extended upward, moving back and forth as if...
Was… was it waving?
"Oh," she breathed, stepping closer. Her heart stuttered. "You're still active."
The robot's visual array flickered, focusing on her with obvious effort. It waved the leg again.
Something tugged at her heart. There was something familiar in the gesture of a broken thing still trying to connect. Crouching down, she set the scanner on a flat piece of metal. The weight of the past two weeks—of being the outsider, the broken one, the one who didn't quite belong—pressed against her chest.
“Hey there. Are you asking for help?" she asked softly, not expecting an answer.
The robot's leg moved up and down twice in quick succession. A faint mechanical whir emerged from somewhere in its damaged body.
Mira's eyes widened. "You understand me?"
Another double movement. Another soft sound.
"Holy shit," she whispered. This wasn't just some automated response system. The robot was displaying actual comprehension and trying to communicate.
“Hey, don’t worry. I got you.”
She began carefully clearing debris from around it, the metal hard and jagged under her fingers. The robot was unlike anything she'd seen before—dented and scorched in places, yet was more complex than anything she’d ever seen. Dust and corrosion coated most of its surface, but underneath, she glimpsed a sleek design. How long had it been here? Trapped and hurt?
"Don't worry," she told it, working quickly. "I'm going to get you out of here."
"Mira!"
Davis's voice cut through her concentration, sharp with anger and something else—concern?
“Hey! I’m over here!" she called over her shoulder, continuing to clear parts away from the robot.
Heavy footsteps approached rapidly, metal clanging under large boots. Then Davis was there, looming over her.
"Get away from that thing!" he barked, his hand dropping to the gun at his hip.
The robot shrank away, pulling its legs in protectively with a distressed whir.
"Wait!" She threw herself in front of it, arms spread wide. "Don't shoot it!"
His eyes widened in disbelief. “What the fuck are you doing? Move. Now."
"No!" She held her ground, heart hammering so hard she was sure he could hear it. “Please. It's not dangerous. It's hurt."
"It's not hurt, it's damaged," he snapped, but yanked his gun away and pointed it at the ground. A muscle twitched in his jaw. "And you have no idea what it's capable of."
"It waved at me! It asked for help."
He stared at her like she'd grown a second head. "It's a machine, Mira. It doesn't 'ask' for anything."
"This one did." She turned slightly, looking at the robot while staying between it and Davis so that Davis couldn't shoot it. "Show him. Wave again."
The robot hesitated, its eyes flicking between her and Davis. Then, slowly, it extended a leg and waved, giving a soft chirp that sounded almost like a question.
