Unit 735

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.

Many different races of sapients used this phrase, or something similar, and Unit 735 had at first deduced that it was a literal instruction that distress signals through vacuum must be accomplished via light rather than sound. However, the unit had observed sapients using the phrase in situations for which this meaning would be inappropriate, leading it to conclude that there must be some other meaning. Sapients sometimes used words in strange ways, but the unit was often unable to interpret these instances, because its operators always instructed it using precise language. It did not matter, as the unit was not programmed to express fear or pain in the same way sapients did.

Unit 735 was one of many experimental battle drones intended to combine the unquestioning obedience of a machine with the creative thinking of a sapient, enabling it to complete directives autonomously in the event of unforeseen circumstances. Such was the case now; as the unit’s current directive was not conforming to the mission file. The ship that its target was in was equipped with some kind of jammer which rendered the energy weapons on the unit’s own ship unable to fire. The target strafed the unit’s port side with energy weapons of its own, and the unit banked hard to starboard to avoid the brunt of the attack, noting that its shields were at thirty percent power. The unit was wired directly into the central computer of its ship, attacking and evading as fast as thought, which for Unit 735 was measured in millions of instructions per second, but that did not solve the weapons problem.

The unit dived until it was directly under the target’s ship, and fired its last projectile weapons at an area which had been hit earlier. The target attempted to evade, but the uranium shells slammed into the hull, showering sparks as oxygen vented into space. The unit quickly moved out of range, anticipating an explosion, but none came. The most probable reason was that the breached compartment was able to be closed off from the rest of the system, and that the most vital components of the ship were left intact enough for the target to continue to limp to its destination if it was not neutralized. Aware of the unit’s ship behind it, the target flipped its ship one hundred eighty degrees while continuing on its current heading, and fired directly at the unit. The target was clearly a skilled pilot, despite the relative inefficiency of manual rather than direct control. Shields at seventeen percent.

It was time for Unit 735 to consider drastic measures. The chase had led them both near a planet in the Epsilon Eridani system, and the unit disengaged from pursuit and began to orbit. The unit sped around the planet, picking up speed as it continued, with a corresponding increase in altitude to remain in orbit. As it had calculated, the target was still in range when it reemerged, having been too badly damaged to utilize more than a fraction of its engine power to flee. Using the planet’s gravitational force to give its ship speed, Unit 735 slingshotted around it, then disengaged from orbit and sped toward the target’s ship, engaging afterburners at full power. The target had clearly not anticipated a suicide attack, but the unit had been programmed to consider itself expendable if no better options were available.

The nose of the ship struck directly into the hole left by its kinetic weapons, completely destroying both the target’s ship and itself. The ships tumbled through space together, out of control but kept in orbit by their momentum. As soon as Unit 735's ship was pointing directly toward the planet, it hit its afterburners one final time, sending them hurtling towards the ground below.

Unit 735 disconnected from its now-derelict ship and ran a diagnostic. One of its legs had a large crack running across it, lessening its functionality but not completely crippling it. The unit fastened two relatively straight pieces of debris to either side of the damaged limb. It was equipped with a self-repair ability that would return it to normal within a short time, but the injury site would always be weak if not given professional repair. Diagnostic complete, the unit began to scan the wreckage for signs of life.

The ship had only one occupant, identified as the target. It had been thrown clear of the crash and was still alive, but unconscious, and had suffered both internal and external injuries that would lead to death if not treated. An instruction from the unit’s operators flashed into its central processor; neutralize the target. Unit 735 did not comply at first. There was something significant about this sapient. Its appearance was unremarkable; bipedal, female, with a physique suggesting a low-gravity planet of origin. And yet Unit 735 knew it had seen the target before. The unit searched its memory, with the only match being the file it had downloaded with information on the target. The operators repeated their instruction, accompanying it with a jolt of negative stimulus. Unit 735 raised its arm and activated the laser cannon grafted into its flesh, but did not fire. It knew this sapient. Unit 735 did not remember ever seeing it— seeing her— but he remembered remembering.

Unit 735’s oldest memory file was from its own creation; metal and wires grafted onto its endoskeleton, a communications antenna connected to its central processor. During the procedure, he had been thinking of this sapient, or someone who looked like her. But that was not logical. Unit 735 had been created entirely within the facility; it would never have seen anyone besides its designers. The contradiction needed to be resolved. Unit 735 could not neutralize the target until she provided it with the information it lacked.

The operators increased the intensity of the stimulus, affecting the unit’s systems such that its vision went white. It was disobeying orders, but he didn’t care. At one point, this sapient had meant something to him, and he was not going to kill her. He was going to save her. 735 switched to X-ray and performed a more detailed scan of his former target. He had been programmed with detailed files of sapient anatomy for discreet assassinations; logic dictated that the information could be repurposed as a repair manual. He did not know how long he had before the operators realized he had gone rogue, or before his programming reasserted itself and the unit completed its directive, but he had to save this woman.

He did not have nearly long enough. A powerful signal reverberated through the unit’s central processor, like the negative stimulus but many times more powerful. 735 fell to his knees, blinded, and finally screamed, but no one was there to hear.