Work Text:
Restart sequence: initializing…
ID:07327
Callsign: Datafind
Status: post-demitri battle 142 assignment: failed.
Processors online.
Weapons reinitializing: standby.
Scanners-
It brushed the stream of flashing updates aside, and waited resignedly for the input startup to complete. It wasn't uncommon for mech titans to be restarted mid-battle, and this certainly wasn't the first time it's had to wait out a startup sequence. Actuators at full functionality, it tried shifting its position. It met resistance.
Status: unknown
Not so much resistance that it was pinned or trapped, however. There was give, but it wasn't keen on prying itself free until it knew more of the situation.
Threat level: unknown
As if on cue, visual imaging streamed to its processor. It immediately scanned the surroundings for hostiles. It was a basic search, taking mere milliseconds to determine it wasn't being shot at. Then it turned its apertures to itself. It lay partially buried under soil washout and various hunks of man-made scrap, and at the base of its pede: a human man. They were attempting to crawl down its limb components, while shouting and waving its arms up and down. They were on the older side, if the Titan knew any better. Old humans tend to be fragile.
It waited patiently for the human to scramble away, before diverting all power to its hydraulics and pushing itself out of the rubble encasing it. Aggregated clumps of scrap and dirt fell away, sending a plume of dust out from where the giant now stood tall.
While it flexed the dirt off of its joints, it began a new status assessment. The settled dirt around it indicates a large amount of time had passed since its last activity. It didn’t know when it was. The man who stood before it was not wearing any emblem or uniform that would identify him as ally or enemy. It didn’t know who he was. There weren't any shells being thrown at them, but that didn’t mean it was safe. It didn’t know-
A voice interrupted its still-processing assessment (not that it was very fruitful anyways), and its optic swiveled to the sound. "Titan! Titan! Can you hear me?!" A kind, silvery voice was noted on its sensors. The man may be able to fill in the gaps in its data, it observes.
The titan checked its voicebox’s functionality, before speaking in a deep, sure tone. “Auditory sensors online. Please identify yourself." Titan began prepping its weapons systems, on the condition that the man were to convey bad intentions.
"Oh, uh..." the man cleared his throat and ran his hand through his peppered hair, less than oblivious to the whirr of the gun mounts on its chassis. "Call me Tamari…" The man drawled.
The mech paused, expecting the man to explain further. When he didn't, the mech pressed. "What are your intentions, Tamari?"
"My... intentions? I suppose I don't have any…” The man strokes his hand through his beard now, a mischievous look flashing across his features. “Other than the good ole’ intention of a long and fulfilling life. I suppose I’m into tinkering as well, if you count that as an intention. I do enjoy sorting through the Ancient’s old scrapyards and seeing what, or who they left out here.” The man lilted the end of his sentence like a question.
From the human’s circuitous answer, the mech threaded the idea that he posed no threat, or at the very least a lack of drive behind his intentions. “And you found me.” It rumbled.
“Indeed, I found you.” The man said, almost amused. “What are you, anyhow?”
The titan narrowed its optic and its processors audibly whirred. This man was crawling across its lap, likely just after picking at its datacore, then joined in casual conversation, and it hadn’t realized what it was? What it was capable of? How… interesting.
“I am unit 07327, of the late 16th platoon DataBreach, under Commander Alfinaugh. I was stationed here as a sentry for the onslaught against mission objective 12-2. I am designed for combat and support amongst field militia, particularly during the recent battles of Demitri.” The robot curled and uncurled its hands, considering its status and what it could do from here, then added curtly “Current objective unknown.”
The man frowns, elongating his wrinkled cheeks as it contemplates the military jargon. “A war machine, I see… tell me your name, good sir.”
It registers the question but sets it aside, instead panning its gaze around the old scrapyard and filtered through scans to try and pick out useful data. “I have received many parsed inputs since my reinitialization process began, and would appreciate assistance. Tamari, where are we?”
Tamari pauses before answering gently, “It is named Devil’s fallow, and hasn’t been reclaimed by nature or man alike for almost a hundred years, my friend.”
Around 100 years was what the titan was theorizing, so it wasn’t a shock. What was off-putting was how the man’s tone changed; as if he were breaking bad news to a small human. The titan curls and uncurls its hands again. “Call me Datafind.”
The corners of Tamari’s mouth twitch, and he turns around and begins stepping carefully around mounds of scrap, in the general direction of sparse woods on the horizon. “Alright Datafind, follow me. I have something I think you’ll like.”
Datafind turns and observes the scrapyard, comparing it to the contrasting battle it went offline in. A video log runs through its databanks, of this same horizon filled with smoke and ash, and the shouts of its allies. The thrum of its machine gun apparatus and the beams of its laser core, obliterating any enemy. Volley after volley, directive after directive. Defend, protect, safeguard. Attack, force, drive. And now, the scars of war left it unreclaimed and barren. Datafind watches the old man step over rubble, inching towards the woods without so much as a glance behind him. No glance back at the titan, towards the derelict and volatile machine it met no less than 6 minutes and 39 seconds ago. Datafind was beginning to see Tamari’s significantly low self-preservation skills, and it still didn’t know what course of action would be ideal for its situation.
Status: idle
Threat level: low
Datafind certainly didn’t understand Tamari, but it didn’t know what else it should do other than to follow him. Having no direct objective indicated judgment calls were necessary, and with no other courses of action, it began following Tamari. Protocol asked for an objective, and it could feel the constraints of its code bidding it to remain idle until an objective was found. Datafind backburned the alerts and wrote a temporary objective to satisfy both protocol and function: Safeguard Tamari until destination is reached.
The pair walked for a while in silence, entering the woods and following a well-worn path. The vegetation was light and the titan had little difficulty keeping up. They both seemed to be in their own thoughts. At least, Datafind assumed Tamari was deep in thought, based off of the hums and grunts made as he walked. Meanwhile, Datafind was reviewing protocols for any pre-programmed situation that might give light as to how to carry on: it needed a plan. Communication to still-existing parties had failed, and it was looking more and more like it was on its own now.
Threat level update: mild
As they treaded deeper into the woods, Tamari began telling many unprompted stories, and while initially bothered, Datafind found that it didn’t mind the man’s musings. It filled the silence that would have sat thick otherwise, and the mech found itself growing more at ease in this man’s presence, similar to how it once felt with the infantrymen in its old platoon.
Tamari told stories of the outpost they were walking to, of the townspeople and their families, and of business avenues they held. Soon, with minor prompting, Tamari recounted the transition from the Ancient War, he called it, in which Datafind had fallen, to the present day desolate wilderness, and Datafind was able to fill in its gaped history logs. It had been powered down for 87 years. Tamari also spoke of the functions of technology in their outpost town. Apparently, Datafind wouldn't be the first piece of intelligent machinery Tamari brings back from Devil’s fallow.
Threat level update: low
Strange. That piece of information quelled the rising threat level. It could ponder on that later though. For now, it focused on its still-missing directive.
By the time they reached the village, it had reached the conclusion that it’s best course of action was to extend it’s placating directive by serving as sentry for Tamari and its village: it fell within its previous duty to secure and protect, and it would now turn its remaining functionality to defending this township. The titan walked through the township, noting the well-crafted structures and homes, all unique in shape and color, and surrounded on all sides by fields of pastured livestock and agriculture fields. The townspeople who were unoccupied by labor met the pair as they meandered, and within moments, they were surrounded. Many fired enthusiastic questions and atypical comments at Tamari, and to its chagrin, Datafind. Thankfully, Tamari did most of the talking, seemingly enjoying this reception. The mech began pulling any pre-downloaded protocol to apply to its new self-instated objective. As it worked, only half-focused on the people at its feet, it felt an increasing amount of resistance in its coding.
Error: system directive void.
It brushed the resistance back, it had no other option.
A few smaller citizens approached the titan, voices small and happy, asking questions about the “big robot”s origin. When Datafind answered them, the children squealed. A few even tucked flowers into gaps in its leg components, which only brought more giggles. It narrowed its optic and stood straighter at their nonchalant demeanor, once again thinking humans were far too at ease with its presence. Maybe the children were too naive to know any better.
Turning carefully to Tamari, who was bent and braced on his knees as he spoke to a child, and spoke above the clamor below. “Tamari, I request a mission objective.” After all, it was not beyond its place to suggest routes of action.
Tamari turned with a placid look on his face. “Ah, I think you’ll get by without one. You mechanical folks always do…” His voice tapered off and he turned back to the people Datafind is gathering to be Tamari’s family.
This irked the titan, who shifted its stance and raced scenarios through its processors. Tamari may have encountered sentient bots before, but obviously didn’t understand just how complex a war machine such as itself was. Its voice modulator increased in volume as it said “I must ask you to understand that my programming calls for an objective at all times. It is not optional.”
Tamari stood from a crouch, now with a small child in his arms, bearing a playful expression. “Right, of course… how about you give yourself one? Or you could give it one, Mary? What should our robot friend do now?” The child giggled and shouted “play! play!”
It shuttered its optic and flexed its hands, ignoring the reaction of the other children (and adults for that matter). No one in this village had experience in warring with battle mechs, much less giving orders to one. But it needed an objective. “Might I suggest I fill a role as sentinel?” Its voice came out monotone and serious.
Tamari tucked his lips in, thinking, before half-wondering aloud, half-addressing the child. “It could guard the village, but that’s what it’s always done, isn’t it. It could do something really intriguing, like cook! That would be quite the sight. Or,” Tamari finally looked Datafind in the optic, “You could remain objective-free, my friend. I know it is possible.”
It answered quickly, voice pressed. “I require a mission directive at all times. I am aware this is outside of your expertise, but what was previously given via command transpondences is now to be given by you.”
Tamari stared for a moment, expression turning serious. He started slowly, “But there is no war, and I am no general. Does this not also mean you are free?”
Something burned against its code, begging Datafind to secure a directive. For not only would it be breaking protocol without one, but it would also solidify its purpose as nought. “I require an objective at all times. If you cannot procure one, I will- err0- 0d-dicate. Re-re-retur-” Its voicebox glitched and reeled until the garbled feedback emitted a high-pitch tone as something within it went haywire.
[input: protocol risk.]
[output halted]
Datafind stands still, and the shrill tone stops. Not before silencing and stilling the crowd around them though, who all were staring up at it.
Tamari speaks first, yielding. “Okay! Okay… Datafind, it’ll be okay. For now, your objective is to act as security for the town. Go… go on patrol, and we’ll figure out something for you here.” He sounded almost disappointed. Dismissive. But Datafind could deal with that. It had its mission now.
Status: sentry/patrol
It stepped carefully around the townspeople and made its way to the bordering wall, without so much as a glance behind it.
Days later, it seemed to be content with its newly established mission. Albeit mundane, it had adequately defended the township since its initiation. Sure, it had yet to encounter any threat, but a mission success is a mission success. Most importantly, it didn’t have its nagging protocols pressing for directive. Its purpose was now fulfilled, and it was doing what it meant to be.
On another one of its slow days, endlessly making rounds about the town monitoring, Datafind spots movement on the horizon of the road, obscured in the trees. It watched keenly as the movement took shape, flipping through various optic filters as the unidentified crept closer. It was a small transport, carrying a mound of covered material, along with an occupied seat on the exterior. A human.
Caution: threat level rising
Calculations flew through its processors. This was not to the side of the township where the agriculture fields were, and no one had left to hunt that day. Conclusion: they should not be approaching. Its processor gave a report:
POI: Unknown
Threat level: high
Objective: Defend against potential IED
It wasn’t the first time it had seen this. Exactly 48 days ag0-(Error: data output false)-Exactly 31,803 days ago, it had to log mission failure after an intaken supply cart was rigged with explosives, and the following events led to the elimination of its squad.
Datafind positioned itself outside of the gait on the main road leading to town and prepared to stop the approach. Its shoulder apparatuses whirred to life and a compacted machine gun unlocked from its chassis and unfolded into its waiting hands.
The transport showed no signs of slowing at the display. It considered informing Tamari and asking the township to go under threat lockdown, but it had no way of contacting him. Well, almost no way to warn him. It raises its armament to the sky and sounds a different kind of warning. Rapraprapraprap, it echoes through the forest. The transport stops.
Datafind advances, smoke billowing from the hot gun as its massive strides close the space between the two at a terror-inducing speed. This is what it was made for.
“Identify yourself.” it booms, clear and definite. Its shoulder-mounts were trained to the driver, its battlecode active.
“Holy- what the- shit! What the heck are you?!” The man stumbled. He dropped the controls and had time to half-draw an energy rifle from under the seat, before Datafind spun its man-sized machine gun to the perpetrator and pressed it into his chest.
“Drop the weapon. Exit the cart, and surrender.”
The man squeaked and slid slowly off the seat and down the footholds on the transport’s side. His foot missed a step and he fell to the ground, but jumped up as quickly as he had gone down. The enemy stepped backwards in small choppy steps, all too aware of the gun hovering mere feet away from his torso. Datafind prepared its questioning sequence, but stopped as it saw the subject’s eyes flicker to something behind it. It quickly turned, expecting to be flanked by enemy reinforcements.
But it was Tamari, running faster than Datafind thought old humans could, trailed by a few other humans moving quickly as well. They looked frightened.
“Return to the town. Threat imminent!” Datafind commands, voice booming.
“Titan!” Tamari calls out, as loud as he probably could mid-stride. “Stand down!”
Datafind straightens at his order, but doesn’t lower the gun. The order conflicted so strongly with what it had been assessing. Standing down would surely mean death for the humans. Was this an unknown fault of Tamari’s? Untimely stupidity? “Broad-ranged IEDs suspected. Tamari: Retreat Immediately.”
“Titan!” He calls again, the plea laced with panic. Tamari bolted past Datafind and to the enemy’s side. It watched as he pushed against its machine gun as if to shove it aside. So Datafind conceded.
Warnings and alerts flooded its processors. It struggled to quell them in the midst of countering its programming. Scenarios were being run as fast as it could compute, but the risk of incident failure would not stop rising. Certain death was far more likely with Tamari at the enemy’s side. What was he thinking?!
“What the hell are you doing?” Tamari barked.
“Tam! This is your machine?!” The man snapped, breathing heavily.
“Yes, it's- it's new… gods, Arty, are you alright?” Tamari turned his back to the titan as he put a hand on the enemy’s shoulder. Datafind tried to speak, but it was inundated with conflictions in its code.
Threat level: reinitializing
Error: Conflicting protocols
Standby
The humans that had followed Tamari came forward now, all in quick conversation as all threw questions at each other, and at Datafind. They were irate, and Datafind was confused. They pressed for an explanation and questioned its soundness and safety.
“An unidentified vehicle approached the township. It was my duty as sentry to defend against incoming threats, and I had reason to believe this transport carried explosives of unknown intent.”
The humans got loud for a moment, before the enem1-(Standby: reassessment in progress)-transport driver yelled above the voices, trying to address Datafind. “This was just a misunderstanding?” He stressed.
Datafind looks at the man. “Unknown. I require more data to make an accurate conclusion.”
“You didn’t need more data before attacking him, though?” muttered a townsmember standing to the right of the driver.
Tamari speaks next. “Alright, easy, I do believe this was a misunderstanding, to the nth degree. And it was unacceptable, yes, but taking this slowly and openly is ideal. Let's first placate our warrior of the danger it senses before we continue.”
Its protocols highly agreed with that suggestion, and something else within it eased as Tamari took heed. Its winding and spinning code fought for action and stretched for control, trying to fill the gaps between what it knows and what it sees.
The driver began unfastening the tarps covering the transport, and other humans joined in to help his endeavor. Seconds later, Datafind observed the revelation of what it was still 68% sure was a bomb. But all it registered were bundles of exotic goods, woodwork, and sterile crates of various refined materials.
Threat level update: low
“I’m a merchant.” The driver speaks, folding his tarps into squares. “From Siheight City? I come for regular business, I assure you.”
Tamari walks closer to where Datafind stood. “He’s my brother, Datafind.”
It had miscalculated. All eyes were on it as it rapidly ran alternate potential outcomes of the situation through its processors. It was the only guardian of this village, and upon the approach of an unknown visitor, it could not show lesser force. That is the first misstep to lose a battle. It was doing what was ideal, what it was programmed for. It was doing what it thought best. But it had miscalculated.
Datafind recompacted its machine gun and returned it to the slot in its chassis.
Tamari continued, saying to the others “Why don’t you all head to the town markets. You have nieces and nephews to greet, Arty, and I would much appreciate a word alone with my great metal friend.”
The men didn’t debate it. They began walking back, one joining Arty in mounting the transport. As he got situated, Arty looked up at Datafind and in an unexpectedly friendly tone, addressed it. “Hey, Datafind, was it? Misunderstandings happen, I get it. Just… investigate before you shoot next time?”
Datafind shutters its optic, processors whirring. “Understood.”
Datafind watched them start driving into town before turning back to Tamari, who was watching Datafind just as intensely as Datafind was the cart.
Steam billowed from its cooling valves on its chassis as the quelling activity eased. Its protocol criteria no longer screamed for resolution. The conflicting data is resolved: the threat was an unidentified ally. It could now resume its activity as sentry and continue guarding the township it had been adopted into. Right? Was this it? Then why did something else tug within it, something beyond its prewritten code, lurking at the edges of its memory space. Datafind shifts on its pedes and flexes its hands, deciding that waiting until Tamari speaks is the best course of action.
Tamari’s eyebrow twitches. “That a nervous habit of yours?” He says casually.
Datafind stills its hands. “No.”
Tamari huffs a laugh.
Datafind adds “I did not understand the extent of the situation. I…apologize.” It had threatened the life of someone very close to Tamari, and the incident would bring massive repercussions. Before, the leadership of its army would scan it for errors. Its coding may be tweaked, and assessment after assessment would be run to ensure it wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Tamari’s face turned somber, and he spoke in a leveled, near-melancholic tone. “You thought Arty was gonna kill us, didn’t you.”
Datafind paused the processing inputs as they calculated explanations and reports. It was not expecting sympathy. “Yes. I have experienced attacks similar to this situation before. The only way to prevent detonation is to ostracise the threat away from base camp.”
Tamari hummed thoughtfully and panned his gaze over the township, which was distanced from where they stood. After a moment, Tamari asked “Come here. Down to my level, if you will.”
Datafind stood still for a moment, calculating why and how it was to do that. It eventually kneeled and placed one fist on the ground, bracing itself so its torso could bend low enough to be eye to eye with the man.
Tamari held its gaze for a moment, a stern look on his face. “Datafind, recall the conversation in the town square the day we arrived. What did we talk about?”
“We held conversation that led to my currently established role as sentinel, after asking input from a child about where my purpose best deemed fit to.”
Tamari eyes narrowed. “Why did we decide sentinel would be best?”
What else could it have done? “Out of the options presented, my function was best suited for this role.”
Tamari hummed thoughtfully. “Your function… tell me, Datafind. What limits your function to your role as sentinel?”
The question confused it: the answer was obvious. “The code within my programming dictates status quos and protocols for a variety of situations that are to be encountered in the field.”
Tamari nods. “And it kept you and your people alive during the war, didn’t it?”
Datafind didn’t answer.
Tamari continued. “I believe that for the most part, I understand where you were coming from. Today was a result of the expectation of danger, and preparations in accordance to such a threat. But Datafind, this cannot happen again. That was my brother! If we hadn’t stopped you, you'd've… but, all's well that ends well” He reassures himself. “And I do believe this is a one-time occurring incident.”
Datafind hesitates. “You cannot be sure of that. Many threats are posed as a result of residing in this location. We are near other settlements, who may infiltrate our own. Defenses must be upkept, and preparation is key to overcoming the enemy.”
Tamari nodded his head in acknowledgement, but thumbed a trinket hanging from his jacket as he found his response. “Datafind, listen to me carefully.” Tamari emphasized. “We are not without trials out here. The war you fought in has not guaranteed peace. But for as long as we’ve been established, nothing has presented too much of a challenge. When trouble has arisen, it is small and manageable. We are at peace, with our neighbors and within the town border: we are not likely to be attacked. The role you have taken up since arrival was largely influenced by your prior functions, and although it does no harm, it does not fit today’s needs. Do you understand what I mean?”
Datafind blinks. It understood. “You do not need a sentinel.”
“We do not need a sentinel.” Tamari repeated, almost sadly.
Status update: Idle
In an instant, the surge of protocol weighed its attention. Its directive was gone. Sentinel was the only job that even remotely resemble its past function. And it wasn’t needed? The task, or the bot…
It chose its words carefully, voicebox ever steady and not at all conveying the maelstrom of thought and coding being run internally. “I understand.” Datafind starts, “But what position should I resume instead?”
“I’m going to leave that up to you, my friend.” Tamari said with a small smile.
They had been through this conversation before, in the town the day they had arrived. Datafind forced its protocol which jumped for control to take a backseat. Then it pushed off of the ground where it kneeled and stood at its full height, looking down to Tamari to speak again. “I do not understand.”
Tamari nods once, expression neutral. Datafind watches as he takes a breath before starting. “The war was ferocious and harsh. Your creators built you how they had to at the time, but the threats you once faced have died with the war. Your environment has now changed. Datafind, you have kept true to all you once knew with inspiring dedication, and I understand it has helped you survive thus far. But now you are only battling with yourself. You need to make peace.”
Datafind’s focus was torn between obeying protocol and processing Tamari’s words objectively. His suggestion was so foreign, so unnatural. It countered so much code. Its voice glitched as it replied, “M-M-My function is irrelevant. My presence is irra-irrational. I-I-I am defunct.”
Tamari looks up at it with a soft expression. “Why is that?”
Datafind answers easily. “I-I-I have no purpose without war.”
“My dear friend, we aren’t given purpose. We create it. And with that much control, our purpose can be limitless.”
Datafind stands tall, curling and uncurling its hands. To write your own purpose instead of requiring another to write it for you. Mistakes would be far too common in a system like that. Its protocol is in place for not only the safety of those around it, but itself coordinated, and if it changed anything about it, it would risk damage. It needed an objective. Its protocol demanded a directive; demanded that it be led, that it follows, that it fights. It had years of experience fortifying the validity of itself.
But now, despite its near-overpowering ingrained coding, the unknown sensation of presence was back from before. It bordered its prewritten code like a filament. It felt fragile and foreign, and wasn’t of any substance it could analyze. An error? A virus?
Tamari spoke again as he watched it think. “You do not have to fight anymore, Datafind. And the first step to quelling that internal conflict of yours is by broadening your functions. We humans call it the comfort zone. You might have something similar. Can you understand that?”
The filament of a presence seeped into its software, muffling it much like a fog does the vision. The fog wisped through the lines of its century-old coding and Datafind could only gauge the foreignness it brought, and almost nothing else. It acted as a second consciousness, reading the code and amassing its own calculations, separate from itself. It was far too advanced to be an error but not malicious enough to be a virus. This presence brought an air of destruction with it, but Datafind had a feeling that it would rebuild once completed. It had a feeling it should take heed.
It recalls the way Arty addressed it only 12 minutes ago, and considers why he would bother addressing it, expressing understanding after the titan nearly annihilated him. It considers the demeanor of Tamari in the presence of such a misunderstanding, and it considers its resistance to the suggestion of changing its old ways.
“I can” it finally answers. Its internal fans were now whirring, working to cool its software as it processed so many factors that had yet to piece together. Datafind broke focus on Tamari, drawing all within.
It knew it had to have a function. Without battle though, it didn’t have any reason to exist. But it understood the logic in Tamari’s advice, and it understood the practicality of its assumption of a pre-existing, useful role in the township. As it ran simulations and possible scenarios, the foreign fog of calculations in its processors grew, the nonphysical coagulating. It understood that this new, distancing fog had seeded from beyond its original coding, meaning that something had to have written it, and downloaded it onto its databank. The sensation began most strongly during Tamari’s lecture, perhaps he wrote the code. But it was far too fluid to have been made by man. Another robot, perhaps? Illogical. Datafind knew the most likely source of this new coding was itself, written by itself, for itself.
Datafind honed its focus on it, unwilling to lose the fragile new code to the protests of itself. And in turn, it allowed distance to grow between the routines it had survived with thus far. It had yet to learn what this fog was, but it carried the air of a solution. The solutions once only suggested by protocol, but without the inundation brought by its demands. Its processors felt clear, like the fog was forcing new space to form.
As the fog read its old coding, it pressed forth weak and nearly unreadable directives. As Datafind assessed them, it found new formulas for its status that, if accepted, would eradicate the prior need for directives. They would instead implement a circumstance-generated mission basis. Self-assigned missions with objectives, to be chosen situationally, based on logic and personal priorities. It had no idea how to implement such a code, but it was there, in written code, infringing its databank.
“What are you thinking there, buddy?” Tamari speaks gently, pulling its focus away from condensing the little fog with assessments.
It looks at Tamari and crouches once again. “I believe I have identified the aforementioned ‘comfort zone’. I also believe I am making a gate with which to leave it…” Datafind looks away, then back again. “Tamari, how does one do something that goes against protocol?”
Tamari smiled slowly, and answered “Practice. Practice, and breaking down the steps. It’s possible though. I’ve seen it done before by bots more stubborn than yourself” Tamari chuckled to himself shaking his head as if lost in thought.
Datafind makes a noise akin to a grumble in confirmation, processors whirring louder than ever. “By losing protocol, I will lose all structure and order. Anything I do will be unrestrained and uncoordinated.”
“It won’t be as erratic as you imply.”
Datafind grumbles again, returning its focus to the new code in its forefront. Reading the nearly incoherent directives, the meshed formula was jagged and flawed. It knew this meant refinery was in order, working out errors and adapting it to what it already knows. It would be a continued effort that would likely lower its previous capabilities while undertaken. But it was implementable… and it allowed for the self-control Tamari had implied.
Its threat level indicator rose and fell like a pulse, trying to dissect what it was about to do and whether it was safe. Warnings flashed across the screen as Datafind implemented a temporary directive: denature protocol. As soon as the order went through, it felt an electric surge zip through its components, from its helmet to the pads under its pedes. For a moment, its defense protocol was on max, energy flooding its system and forcing it into overdrive. But before it was brought to act on it, the energy blinked out, just as quickly as it came. Datafind staggered back at the physical effect, fighting to resume control from the now-absent defense protocols. It blinked, assessing what it had done.
Its protocols were still there, but reading completely differently. The new coding had seemed to engrain itself within its old protocols, recycling what it had known into something it could know. It began running variables through the system and was stunned to find it was not simply unbound and left orderless without protocol. It had guidelines, and the protocol that once commanded it, now only suggested. It could choose to ignore it. And more importantly, it could choose to write its own suggestions. The mesh code seemed slower in processing speed, but it believed it could work out kinks as it put itself to practice.
Datafind was amazed at the results, and turned to Tamari to report.
Tamari was still watching it intently. “It appears I have crafted new criteria for personal protocol for most circumstances. It is severely untested and I would almost classify myself as unstable, if it weren’t for the survivability of my logical and emotional processing cores, which remain intact despite the denaturation of my mission protocols.”
Tamari raises his eyebrows, grinning like a madman. “You’re you, after believing you wouldn’t be.”
Datafind raises a hand to curl and uncurl before them. “I also appear to be in adequate control of myself, but I must say the lack of restriction feels highly volatile.”
“That may be, and that is likely to remain for a while. But it’ll settle, no doubt.” Tamari starts to walk past Datafind and gestures to the titan to follow. It does, for no isolated or mission-driven reason.
“I recognise it was an issue in the past for you, so might I ask, what is your status?” Tamari questions innocently.
“…I have yet to run that calculation.” It didn’t realize its status was something it had to initiate now. It did so. When it read the result, it sent static through its fingertips.
Status: free
Weeks passed and it had mostly been left to its own accord. The first few days had been spent patrolling the town borders again, and a few quiet nights had been spent beyond the town, back in the scrapyard it was found in. But other days were spent meandering the streets of the town, following the whims and curiosities that came to light. One day in particular, an agriculturist stopped it on the road to ask for assistance, and by the end of the conversation, it was offered a temporary labor position. It was to fill the role of the farmer’s automatic-plower which was in disrepair. As a matter of fact, Tamari was in charge of repairing it. Datafind thought it interesting and agreed. The job took 59 hours to complete, and was riddled with program errors and reprogramming as Datafind refined its new parameters. But it was completed nonetheless.
Upon finishing the task, Datafind had assessed that its new function could fall within manual labor of the township’s happenings, and it returned to the agriculturist 4 days later with a pre-written formal labor contract.
By the time Tamari found Datafind again to “catch up”, Datafind’s shoulder apparatuses had been refitted as irrigators, its ammo cartridges were packed with fertilizers, and new pede attachments were in commission, specifically designed for the titan to walk rows in the field. It had new processing modules to read humidity and temperature, as well as various chemical analysis capabilities. Tamari had laughed far more than necessary upon initial greetings, especially when Datafind told him that the town’s gardening club had taken interest in it now.
Its official report to Tamari was overall positive. It believed it enjoyed farming and its sciences. It struggled at times with resisting code, but took the errors slowly and carefully, always working through them. The head agriculturist was always understanding, and gave high regards to its work ethic despite the occasional damage to the fields as it learned.
Beyond work, Datafind had also found itself in cohorts with other bots in the town. Most were repurposed to fit the village life, just as it was. Occasionally, it found itself longing for the rush of a battle, but other bots had told it that the sensation would fade. Supposedly, some of the old warbots would venture to a canyon a few miles south every now and then, just to fire volleys into the cliff face. Datafind figured it would like to join them on their next excursion.
Things weren’t as they were before its 87 year slumber, and tending plants was certainly more meticulous than felling soldiers, but Datafind found it to be a little easier every day. It would still return to the ancient scrapyard every now and then, but it would always return before daybreak, to watch the sun rise above the township it now called basecamp.