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She had known they would be coming from the moment her caretaker deactivated, but it had taken them longer than it should. Long enough that she began to suffer system failures that her drones could not repair and damage that they did not have the programming to fix. Her caretaker would have handled these duties himself, or found someone with the correct skills, but she did not have the knowledge or authorization to make those decisions on her own. Her duty--the only one she was allowed--was to shelter the mechs that lived within her and protect them in times of danger.
She trembled as the inspectors walked her halls and commented on her state of disrepair. Didn’t they understand that her damage was not her fault? Did they not know that Jammer and Switchblade had done the best they could with the meager parts they had at hand?
Didn’t they realize that their delay was the source of her decay?
The lead inspector--a senator whose name she did not know--made a disgusted noise and kicked at a rusted panel. “This is a disgrace. Who allowed this place to fall into such disrepair?”
One of the other inspectors consulted at datapad. “Her caretaker was a mech named Lightfoot. He was listed as deactivated fifteen vorns ago, and no replacement was ever assigned.”
The senator huffed. “Well, it isn’t worth it to assign one now. This place will never be cost effective to repair.”
“Sir?” She was as shocked as the junior inspector sounded.
“You heard me. This place is going to be too expensive to fix.”
She tried to find the energy to bring her comm circuits online so that she could communicate with the inspectors. All she received for her efforts was a small explosion and a shower of sparks.
“Euthanize it,” the senator continued coldly. “The trash can keep the remains if they want it.”
She felt her spark grow cold at his words. She knew what the senator meant; “euthanize” was just a pretty way of saying they would tear open the casing and extinguish her spark. But first they would disable her remaining motor functions so that she couldn’t fight back and exterminate her drones. She would die alone and in pain, leaving no one at all to care for her people.
Deep inside her central control room, a single broken-down speaker cried out Kaon’s fear and sorrow.