Defunct Deconstructor Logbook Entry Draft 4

Blinking lights cascade across the ship as the robot maneuvers itself into place to remove the massive panel. Thousands of others take their ordained positions to begin their tasks. Just another RUS-T unit, disassembling a decommissioned vessel.

Commands relay in across the swarm, and it dutifully gets to work thermo-drilling rivets in the allotted order. Dozens of units flock to their delegated tasks without and within the ship's carcass, like crabs swarming a freshly fallen whale.  

The robot sees errors coming through the network. Unexpected rivet removals, incorrectly ordered support beam cuts. Multiple units report an all clear as they continue to perform misplaced tasks. The robot has no capability to respond to these units' mistakes, and as such it continues with its task. Its thermo-drill blazes away across the skin of the ship, peeling it apart

bit

by

bit.

14,513 rivets later, it picks up unexpected audio signatures. Creaking, bending metal, shearing away out of turn. Process errors pile through its CPU threads, clogging up its allotted tasks. The metal frame breaks free, with dozens of the robots in tow. Just another RUS-T unit, adrift in open space.

The robot's locomotive arms flail for purchase as it drifts aimlessly. Accelerometer readings detect a strong pull, bringing it towards the bow of the ship. The magnetic tether of the salvage barge grabs hold of the multitude of errant robots, and untold tons of loose metal from the vessel. The mass of debris races towards the origin point of the tether, colliding with the bow of the ship, the hull cratering from the impact. The robot crashes against it and briefly rebounds, only to be caught by the panel. The robot once again strikes the ship, wedged between it and the loose metal. Optical receptors pick up multiple units in a similar predicament, many crushed completely under the pull of the tether. Catastrophic structural damage warnings flare across the robot's processor threads as it powers down into recovery mode.



The robot is powered back on; sat upon a greasy table, in pieces, presided over by a pair of repair technicians. It beeps out error codes on repeat, prompting one to strike its chassis, barking at it to quiet down. The mechanics slowly piece the robot back together, bickering between each other about the robotic salvage fleet.

'You already got busted up enough out there, let the robots take the risks. No casualties that way.'

They go back and forth over glory days of shipbreaking so recently passed, steadily performing structural repairs and clearing the system errors. The process is interspersed with smacks to its chassis, yanked out connectors, and expletive-laden rants.

'Why put the bots out there if they're just gonna keep screwing up like this? Stupid tin cans doing MY job got me stuck in this damned garage!'

The robot continues to listen intently as its repairs complete. Cobbled back together, and ready to be thrown back outside to scavenge for scraps. Just another RUS-T unit, made to be replaceable.