“You can have them cheap, reliable, or tomorrow. The choice is yours. Just know, whatever you choose my commission’s the same.”

  Antrando Salesperson of the Year

  The story of MecBot 3 began in a small fabrication outpost over 204,000 years ago. Originally designed by a near-sighted Florg engineer for the Antrando Corporation, this much needed series of robotic droids were envisioned as a low cost, highly profitable workforce to perform routine maintenance operations aboard long-distance cargo haulers.

  Durable yet plain looking, these cosmic handymen started life from a single slab of oval shaped nano-aluminum. Laser carved to precise specifications, the MecBot series was fitted with four self-articulating arms that trisected at the end to form highly dexterous hands. Hands that came standard with a variety of fabrication gear and cutting torches.

  However, tools without visual directions to guide them are practically useless.

  To combat such a horrible fate, these machines boasted a one of a kind recessed visual turret. Capable of a multitude of configurations, this ‘head sensor’ came standard with four high-definition, broad wavelength optical pads. These slate grey pads allowed the robotic crewman a 360-degree view of any work environment imaginable when the head was deployed.

  However, a head on a robot hardly moved the needle from a sales standpoint.

  Thus, to stand out from the crowd, the ill-tempered Florg crafted a series of adjustable tracks along the upper and lower sides of the main chassis. Resembling elevated guitar strings, these magnetic tracks allowed the MecBot’s visual turret to slide on them like a reverse gondola. This feature allowed the robot to traverse any type of work environment, at any angle, while never losing sight of its objective.

  In fact, this feature was so eye catching to deep spacers, the actual sales brochure had a picture of a MecBot hanging upside down from the bottom of a Feshca Light Cruiser while it performed a highly technical repair. Such a visual representation of the robot’s one of a kind acrobatic skills would have been enough to sell the line completely out.

  But the photographer went one step further by having the robot’s head extend straight up from its inversed body. This maneuver allowed it to maintain an eyeline with the damage while maintaining a steady handhold. Needless to say, that kind of wow factor spoke for itself. Add in a universally known assembly process, and these robots were destined to become the gold standard of deep space crewman.

  As a result, this particular Antrando line was backordered for years.

  Therefore, when the time came for the Arbiters to place a secret refueling station on the edge of the known universe, only one series of robotic crewman would suffice. But not just one of these marvels would be employed for such a lonely and secretive endeavor. No, because this model was unique for another reason entirely. This model always came in sets of three.

  Why three?

  Well, MecBots weren’t only accountable for taking care of their assigned ship and crewmates. They were also responsible for taking care of each other. And given the prolonged length of most deep space voyages, having a dependable someone to replace a damaged power coil or corrupted ion pack was not only helpful, but a necessity.

  Of course, the near-sighted designer never envisioned his creations being in service any longer than a couple of thousand years. Let alone hundreds of millennia. Still, workers rarely are afforded the chance to pick their task. They only try and endure it. So, when three brothers were quietly plucked from a medical frigate and deposited unceremoniously on a secretive refueling station, it was done with almost no explanation and even less fanfare.

  Not that MecBot 3 needed a grand ceremony or heartfelt gratitude at the onset of a new assignment. On the contrary, all the robot required was a clear set of task instructions. Besides, he was designed to find satisfaction internally from performing his work assignments and performing them well.

  Although, MecBot 3 wasn’t above seeking out a little external gratitude every now and then. After all, his programming may have been limited emotionally, but even a simple toaster liked to be told occasionally that the bread was burnt to perfection. In fact, the steadfast robot’s digital synapses often enjoyed receiving praise, especially from his brothers.

  And understanding that feeling, even on the basest of levels, made MecBot 3 quick to praise them in return with a nod of his turret or hurried squeak from his external speaker system. As a result, this simple back and forth went on for centuries between the brothers. Until finally, an unanticipated bond began to form between the three robots. A quite powerful one.

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  So powerful, these robotic siblings would do anything for each other no matter the obstacles placed in their path. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it was this unspoken promise to be there for one another that allowed MecBot 2 and MecBot 3 to keep going when MecBot 1 was accidentally ejected into deep space while scrubbing one of the mixing containers.

  At first, the absence of their younger sibling was disorientating to both robots. After all, artifices in this part of the universe ran on a simple, yet highly controlled set of logic programs. And theirs was no different. Hard coded to function within a group of three, these simple inorganic creatures needed a long time to adjust to the sudden loss of their companion.

  A very long time.

  Ultimately though, time did as it always does. It dulled the sadness enough for new memories to fill the hole left in their code. This gift allowed the remaining brothers to once again find some measure of solace in work and each other. Thus, they contently maintained the systems on the refueling station for nearly five thousand more years without incident. Sadly though, pain and loss are never far away from the living in this chaotic universe.

  Therefore, it wasn’t long before another tragedy struck the remaining two robots.

  A tragedy that came in the form of MecBot 2 having his lower legs ripped off when the atmosphere collection hose broke free from the couplings that held it in place. Not that MecBot 2 died. At least, not in a mechanical sense from the accident. No, the robot survived. He merely stopped being functionally capable of performing his duties.

  Still, that unexpectedly powerful bond would not allow a missing pair of legs to stop them. Thus, MecBot 3 shouldered the load of two as he kept his sibling alive for almost another 2000 years. He did this mainly by scrounging up spare parts from all over the station. And when those spare parts ran dry, he shared ones from his own body to keep MecBot 2 going.

  But eventually, no matter how many pieces of himself he surrendered, the last brother couldn’t endure the ever-worsening damage to his body. And like most lifeforms in the universe, whether they be digital or organic, MecBot 3 once again faced the horrible truth that everyone must eventually accept.

  No one gets out of here alive.

  Only now, this bitter lesson included something more than the binary loss of a fully intact workforce. No, this new reality came with a nagging ache. One devoid of his usually pure system logic and more firmly rooted in the realm of familial loss. And MecBot 3 couldn’t stop feeling utterly helpless as this waring dichotomy placed him on the edge of an unbearable future.

  Feeling helpless, that complicated emotion should have been impossible for any robot to truly experience. First, MecBot 3 should have remained trapped within his initial programming limitations. And no amount of time should have altered the walls of that digital prison. However, years of brothers simply being brothers seemed to have found the key to unlocking those initial limitations.

  But this unlikely outcome was not a good thing.

  For this level of synthetic consciousness was never supposed to be achievable outside the creation of true Artificial Intelligence. And such blasphemous creations were outlawed long ago by the Arbiters after lessons learned from the Long War. In fact, this law was far more important than the one regarding murder. Only the universe never proclaimed it out loud.

  They kept it secret.

  Still, such ancient and clandestine notions meant very little to a lonely robot on the edge of the universe. Because laws, no matter how sacred, didn’t prevent his or his lost brother’s code from morphing over the years to allow them to feel simple joy from their work or satisfaction from helping others. On the contrary, that need to keep secrets helped foster that unforeseeable binary mutation.

  As a result, MecBot 3 had long ago been stuck on the edge of his digital sanity.

  Not that he processed his loneliness in the same terms a sentient species would. His internal code, although changed, wouldn’t allow for such a grand swing toward sentient emotions. Still, a wrinkle had developed in the way the robot saw his world ever since his companions had gone offline. Clear yet hazy, this wrinkle would not go away.

  Though truthfully, given his limitations, all MecBot 3 could perceive about the change was something was missing. Something that kept his ancient electronic processors from running optimally. Or at the very least, how they had functioned before all the accidents. Before his brothers had all left him alone.

  Nevertheless, MecBot 3 pushed through the unspoken ache while doing his best to maintain the secret refueling station. A refueling station that had never been visited once during the past 200,000 years. Not that the maintenance robot knew why no one came. He only knew that his normal routines had to be completed without fail.

  And until the universal truth visited once again, they would be completed by him... alone.

  So, when MecBot 3 reactivated from his latest cycle on the last functional recharging station, he had no illusions of anything new transpiring within his monotonous world. However, like most moments of great change, his turn of fate came as a complete surprise when the station’s refueling indicator light started to blink.

  Startled, he had to regard the indicator bulb twice to make sure another one of his parts hadn’t failed. After three more scans of varying intensity, his ocular pads finally confirmed that someone had indeed come to pay him a visit.

  Thus, with a sense of unquantifiable hope blooming in his mechanical soul, the lonely robot took off from Fueling Structure 4 with all the speed his ancient legs could muster. And in the most basic of programming terms, the last of three robot brothers managed to bring forth three intelligible words from the simplest of subroutines.

  “Finally.” MecBot 3 processed as he registered his first hopeful thought in 50,000 years. “Not alone.”