MechTech: Chapter I

The ground thundered below tragic wails, autonomic frequency determined the efficiency of technological functions as sand rippled and dispersed a measurable distance from the impact of the imposer upon the pathway.

The plain was rustic, held together by dark memories of the terrain; gusts that circulated these lands, insinuating forgotten atomic traces of memory and historical happenings once transpired.

Perhaps it was over the lapse of such lengthly isolation or a yearning to reintegrate with a collective once known. A prolonged absence of uniformed behavior remitting protocol that never allowed these insights to form, but the machines marched on in their eternal patrol.

Negligent to no thing in and of their surroundings, The mysterious departure fueled such premonitions of inevitable return, and they kept the facility and its neighboring territory secure and with strange company. The planet had not see hostile motions or any wavelengths of unnatural life, save for skittish things that sometimes emerged through a bleak post, a canyon pass, the only coherent and

measurable geometry for many miles upon the linear plain. The formation a natural fortification along a considerable length along the facilities North-Eastern axis, such was why the Planetside Station was set to be built there. A destination of untold distance, its reach claimed a mighty third of the abandoned planet, Goebellum Prime.

The Station, whose only active sub-centers in the northern most entry, the Sultan Complex, rippled with slight motions of activity and autonomic inspection.

Out in the distance beyond the walls of the Station, Romulus 75-30 stood unmoving as it scanned the barren plain ahead. Signals and frequencies through optics and sensors deciphered the geometric language. Observing the open expanse to the East, hard and cracked desert terrain, compacted from gargantuan force warfare and the heat and weaponry of such conflict. Through sunlight of the most arid sense, Goebellum's climate and a constant stampede long past, of sentries by the ton, the desert never moved. Never returned to lively dynamic dunes that brushed along touch from now empty winds, and forever denied a former lushness it commanded, before the installment of the Planetside Station.

Romulus scanned the infinite reaches, still and waiting, but both convoy nor cohorts were no where in the distance. How long was he stationary before the approach, nevertheless it came, pale stomping became prevalent, invading the minimal sound of the scene drowning out a yet audible formless wind and autonomic processes of the Romulus machine; its second Cohort, Ithaca 68-04 paraded to the stage, ever closer to the still and waiting Mech.