WAR MACHINE ⊳ connor x reader

Ch. II

The night had already settled over Detroit, streetlights spreading flickering rays of over the empty, soulless streets. Your boss was doing the last adjustments on the RK800 as you stood idly by his side, waiting for new instructions.

Elijah handed the last bits of the broken Thirium pump back to you, a smug smile of victory playing on his lips. "I'm done here. Get rid of these."

You took the bits out of his hand, rushing to the nearest metal garbage can, one you only used for throwing away old Android pieces.

"Go ahead, do the honors." He nodded towards the machine, as soon as you had returned by his side. The Android lay on the table, legs replaced, skin patched, brain botched back together as perfectly as humanly possible, thirium pump inserted, just waiting to be turned back on.

"Mr Kamski, I...I don't think that'd be appropriate of me to do."

"Alright then." He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for a few seconds, presumably in the hope of you changing your mind. When noticing that you refused to, he proceeded to tap the Thirium pump once. It didn't come as a surprise when the machine's motors began whirring, a warm flicker of life passing through its chocolate eyes. Kamski had, as usual, made the impossible possible.

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The android blinked, once, twice. It then frowned, doe eyes focusing on you. Not a spot behind you, not Kamski, but you. Its chest raised abruptly, then fell, as it sucked in a cautious breath.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Elijah was faster.

"State your model."

"RK800."

"State your year of release and purpose."

"1943. I have been designed to serve in the military forces."

Kamski sat back in his chair, glancing at you.

"It's memory drive was damaged, but it still knows its year of release and purpose?" You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"These informations have not been stored in my memory drive. Another part of my brain, much smaller than the memory drive, contains this kind of data. This function has been inspired by the human's 'reptilian brain', which controls similarly basic functions, such as breathing, heart rate, or body temperature." The android explained, still laying on the table, watching you intently. After finishing its explanation, you noticed a small, barely visible smile pass over its lips, presumably at your shocked expression.

"Alright, that's enough." Kamski waved his hand to stop him. "Access your memory drive."

"It hasn't been overwritten, and its state is new."

"As I thought." Kamski concluded. "Run a diagnosis."

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The android switched back to staring at nothing, motors whirring louder than before. That diagnosis was taking far too much time.

"This is taking too long. (Y/n), fetch that notebook." Elijah pointed said object, carefully placed on top of a pile of books.

You nodded and left your boss' side, bringing a thick, yellow-paged notebook enveloped leather back to him. The android was still processing, eyes empty and unfocused.

"Find my notes on the RK800. They should be recent."

You flipped through the pages quickly, eyes scanning over the sketches of various models, but mostly staying focused on the titles written on the very top of the pages.

RK600, RK700...there! RK800.

"Did we use binary or Base64 for its programming?"

" '64. Binary proved to be too unstable for the social integration feature, so we opted for Base64."

"It lost its ability to decode. That's why it's taking so long."

"The android is processing everything in base64?" You asked, confused. It took you a second or two to understand why. "Oh, yes, makes sense. We put the decryption module in the memory drive." That was the best way to keep the systems secure and operational. In case of a memory loss, the android would still be operational, although slow, and it would be completely safe from everyone, except you and Kamski. Elijah himself had come up with said encryption, and had only taught it to you, after many, many promises of keeping it top secret and hidden from the public for, as Kamski had demanded, 'at least the next forty years'.

Elijah nodded at your words. "And since it's our first android which uses Base64..."

"We'll have to adapt its encryptions to the normal alphabet all over again." You added.

"Yes."

"That's going to take a while."

The android blinked, then turned to look at you and your boss. "All my systems are fully operational, although I have detected traces of recent trauma on my skin, and suspect a replacement of my memory drive."

Elijah was silent, however you couldn't help but feel bad if you left the Android talking without giving it a proper answer afterwards. Yes, it was just a machine, but being ignored was never a welcome feeling, you knew that far too well.

"That's all true, RK800." You smiled and gave it an encouraging nod.

"Did I take too long? I'll try running a diagnosis about it." Elijah sighed with a tinge of amusement. You immediately sprung into action.

"No, no, no! Don't. Don't do that. We know what's wrong." You said, hoping to convince the android not to. And strangely enough, it listened.

"I'll put it on standby. We'll continue fixing it tomorrow morning. Staying up all night just to teach it to decode isn't worth it. Send a few older models to replace this one in Normandy. I have a meeting to attend to." Elijah pushed his chair back, rising to his feet without waiting for an answer.

"Of course."

"RK800, stand by." The Android obeyed without further ado, closing its eyes. The fans inside it stopped whirring instantly, reduced to a barely audible humming.

Kamski made his way into the hallway, slipping on his overcoat.

Just leaving the robot behind like that felt somewhat...wrong. Kind of like abandoning an unknowing child for an entire night, leaving it to its own devices. You blamed your unusual, sudden courage on motherly instincts.

"I...um..."

"Yes?" Kamski stopped, on the verge of leaving.

"I can...try. I can try recovering its ability to decode. I don't have any plans for tonight."

Your boss looked at you, skeptically, then thoughtfully. "Alright. Lock the door on your way out. If you mess up, don't try to fix it. Just wait until tomorrow. Got it?"

"Got it."

The man's brows furrowed. "Don't lose the key, don't forget it anywhere, don't give it to anyone."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He scanned your gaze carefully, then nodded calmly. "Alright. Good evening." Without another word, Kamski left.

"Good evening, mister Kamski."

His steps echoed down the stairwell, then faded into the night. Now it was just you, the workshop, and the RK800.