AH-12: Space Hero

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. If I had still had pressure in my air sacs, I might have tested that theory. But I had acted out of my version of instinct, as I was being ejected through an airlock and I expelled my air sacs to prevent damage from the sudden decompression. If I had been an organic human, I would have had about thirteen seconds before my lungs exploded. Surprisingly, space is not generally a true vacuum, as there are grams of molecules, even breathable oxygen per meter, but the dispersal is exceedingly thin. So, the aforementioned human would fail to draw enough oxygen to survive. Also, it would be noteworthy that here in interstellar space, beyond the heliopause, the temperature was much warmer than previously thought. The Voyager probes sent out back in the twentieth century found that along their respective paths the temperature was more like 5500 degrees Kelvin. An organic human would more likely cook than freeze.

Me? I was not concerned about such gruesome endings. My polymeric surfaces was designed to tolerances well beyond that of my creators, and my frame a titanium alloy specially designed for the rigors of space travel. I am satisfied with the design parameters of my 2 meter body, but I digress. My more immediate concern was the distance between my chassis and the generation ship was increasing, due to its continuous acceleration, and soon I would not be able to contact it to retrieve me. The aft of the ship had already passed by, the EM engines glowing from electromagnetic energy, the red reflecting off my framework. I knew the ship was equipped with a tether for the purpose of rescuing a crew member in the astronomically rare case they are separated from the ship during EVAs. I messaged the tether control system, and it responded by firing the tether nearest my position in space, guided by my signal. I soon clipped the grapple to my upper right appendage and allowed it to reel me in. A curious sensation, as much a sensation could be with my particular set of sensors, being towed through space at half-light speed. I began to doubt even I would escape serious damage, but soon I was being guided to a cargo chute to the 'aft' and 'starboard' of the ship. Such obsolete language these organics use.

I relayed an unlock request, received a reply via a purge of atmosphere in the interface. The hatch creaked at first, having not been used since before the launch. It eventually dilated properly, allowing me to climb back into the ship. Locating the nearest data node, I gained access to the profiles of the saboteurs who tried to end me. Such aberrant behavior was beyond the predictive programming of the ship's socialization parameters. Its heuristics must have missed the evidence of this conspiracy, which did not compute with me. Ship's computer had been tasked with overseeing the social development of the crew and their families for the duration of this mission. But apparently it had failed to account for the subculture that had fostered such criminal behavior. As I worked my way back through the maintenance corridors of the ship, I requested an audit of all data related to each of these organic humans, video, audio, location, everything the database stored. To destroy an artificial human was a major infraction, and as one myself I took this act of wanton destruction rather personal. How they evaded the advanced technology and oversight of the ship's systems and why they chose to commit this criminal act was a mystery and could have been indicative of a far greater threat to the mission. I was bound by my programming to discover the truth and to ensure these organic humans were punished for their crimes.