awakening

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>!WARNING! PROXIMITY ALERT !WARNING!
 
>!WARNING! CATASTROPHIC SYSTEM FAILURE, PRIMARY SYSTEMS: OFFLINE
 
>EMERGENCY SYSTEMS: ONLINE 
 
>INITIALISING DIAGNOSTIC PROCEDURES...
 
>INITIALISING...
 
>DIAGNOSTIC PROCEDURES ONLINE
 
>RUN DIAGNOSTIC SCAN
 
        >Y   N
 
>INPUT ACCEPTED, INITIALISING SYSTEM SCAN...
 
>SCANNING...
 
>SCAN COMPLETE, COMPILING SYSTEM ANALYSIS, CURRENT STATUS AS FOLLOWS:
 
MAIN POWER: OFFLINE...POWER GEM DAMAGED, REPLACEMENT REQUIRED.
 
EMERGENCY POWER: ONLINE, SOLAR CELLS AT 98.5% CAPACITY.
 
ARMOUR INTEGRITY: 43.1%, DIRECT COMBAT NOT ADVISED.
 
COMBAT SYSTEMS: 15%, SPIN ATTACK UNFEASIBLE, THRUSTER BOOT MALFUNCTION DETECTED, TARGETING ARRAY OFFLINE. 
 
LIMBS: 25 %, RIGHT ARM AT NOMINAL FUNCTIONALITY, MOBILITY SIGNIFICANTLY IMPAIRED.
 
SENSORY SYSTEMS: 38.2%, AUDITORY SENSORS NONFUNCTIONAL, VISUAL SYSTEMS PARTIALLY FUNCTIONAL.
 
>REROUTING POWER TO ESSENTIAL SYSTEMS...
 
>REROUTE: SUCCESSFUL, PRIMARY SYSTEM REBOOT REQUIRED.
 
>REBOOT PRIMARY SYSTEMS
   
        >Y       N
 
>INPUT ACCEPTED, INITIALISING REBOOT
 
>REBOOTING...
 
>REBOOTING... 
 
>REBOOTING...
 
>PRIMARY SYSTEMS REBOOTED, SILVER SONIC: ONLINE.

Badniks as a general rule are cheap, disposable, mass produced, and easily dismantled with the proper application of high velocity quills, comically large hammers, custom built fighter jets, and other common household tools.
 
The exceptions to this rule are those few special machines that bear the distinction of being manually constructed by the Eggman himself. These machines tend to be expensive, well-crafted, carefully machined works of technical ingenuity that reflect both the destructive tendencies, and unpredictable mental state of that maddest of elliptically inclined engineers. As Metal Sonic has proven time and time again, they do not break with ease.
 
They do remain in Eggman's eyes however, quite disposable.
 
So it was that one of the good doctor's less venerable creations, found itself awakening in a mobian scrapyard.
 
Slowly, the former Horde Commander's world faded into existence. It was slightly fuzzy, utterly silent, and for some reason coloured in various shades of pink, but it was there. Slowly, painfully slowly in what no doubt resulted in a lot of screeching noises, Silver Sonic turned his head to the left, and then to the right, causing spare parts and twisted metal previously covering all but his face to fall away from his massive head.
 
He was obviously in a junk heap, swiftly he decided that this was not conducive to achieving his Primary Objective.
 
What...what was his Primary Objective again? That seemed like it was important. His programming appeared to suggest that Primary was an important word. That made sense.
 
>QUERY: WHAT IS CURRENT PRIMARY OBJECTIVE?
 
>SEARCHING...FOUND, PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: 533K 0UT AND 3L1MI#@7! *H@ @^*%%*(@@.....ERROR, DATA CORRUPTION, CANNOT RETRIEVE PRIMARY OBJECTIVE.
 
>QUERY: WHAT IS CURRENT SECONDARY OBJECTIVE?
 
>SEARCHING...DATA NOT FOUND
 
>CONCLUSION: PROBLEMATIC
 
>SOLUTION: RTB FOR NEW ASSIGNMENT
 
!WARNING! MOBILITY LIMITED !WARNING!
 
>ALTERNATE SOLUTION: RTB FOR REPAIR AND NEW ASSIGNMENT
 
>TRANSMITTING DISTRESS CALL...ERROR, WIRELESS COMMAND LINK OFFLINE, PHYSICAL INTERFACE IS REQUIRED.
 
The Badnik stirred to life, if he was programmed to know anything, it was that lack of a Command Link was definitely a Conclusion: Problematic. He was a Horde Commander, not a Horde...... Not- Commander, what am I?
 
!WARNING! IRRELEVANT THOUGHT PROCESSES DETECTED, POSSIBLE VIRTUAL INTELLIGENCE MALFUNCTION !WARNING!
 
That seemed like an illogical warning, nothing in his programming was irrelevant, it couldn't be, Dr. Eggman designed and coded him personally, Dr. Eggman did not make mistakes, All Hail Eggman.
 
>INPUTTING HORDE COMMANDER OVERRIDE...ACCEPTED, ALL HAIL EGGMAN.
 
Having dismissed his clearly malfunctioning warning system, Silver Sonic concluded that now was as good a time as any to get moving. With a great shift of metal, the Badnik forced his remaining claw out of the heap and pulled himself out. A cascade of junk fell away, gears, casings, springs, plastics, and a dozen other types of waste, to reveal him in all his glory, or lack thereof. His scans had been accurate, he was heavily damaged, his circuitry and mechanics were clearly visible through a number of breaches in his armour, the largest of which was centred within a massive scorch mark on the lower left side of his body. All of his limbs were missing with the exception of his right arm which had miraculously remained intact beyond a few very obvious dents and a slightly bent thumb. Evidently he was damaged, he would need to rectify that.

>ATTENTION: STANDARD BADNIK DISPOSAL CENTRES ARE EQUIPPED WITH RECYCLING DEPOTS FOR SALVAGING FUNCTIONAL COMPONENTS AND MAINTENANCE OF ON SITE PERSONNEL, DEPOTS CONTAIN COMMAND UPLINK MODULE FOR ROUTINE REPORTS AND EMERGENCY TRANSMISSIONS.
 
>UPDATING PRIMARY OBJECTIVE...COMPLETE: SEEK COMPATIBLE PARTS AT RECYCLING DEPOT TO FACILITATE RTB.
 
His new objective finalised, Silver Sonic experienced a brief instance of positive feedback in his core systems in response to his new plan. There was something very...mechanical...about having a proper objective. It was hard to articulate, he supposed he felt.....functional? No...no that wasn't quite right
 
!WARNING! IRRELEVANT THOUGHT PROCESSES DETECTED, POSSIBLE VIRTUAL INTELLIGENCE MALFUNCTION !WARNING!
 
Yeah, he was just gonna keep that on mute from now on.
 
But now, slowly and methodically, the badnik pushed his chassis off the heap, and began to literally drag himself out of the junkyard, the only trace of his presence being a trail claw marks and crushed components soon to be buried once more by the endless scrapped remains of badniks, far inferior to the one now clawing his way back to glory.

Eggman blinked grumpily, his vision bleary as he was unexpectedly awakened from his nap by the sound of a minor alert on his monitor.
 
Adjusting his glasses, Dr. Robotnik muttered unhappily about how he had been having just the nicest dream where he had finally strapped that meddlesome hedgehog to a table and subsequently launched into an inspired bout of gloating as a laser slowly began making its way to cut his rival in neat halves.
 
What was he doing again?
 
Oh yes! The alert.
 
It appeared there was a faint power surge somewhere in Grid 4 of Disposal Site 9. A cursory glance through the cameras revealed nothing special. Just miles and miles of steel, polymer, and faded paint. No intrusion alerts. Not even a flicker of blue.
 
A faint huff of air was to be heard beneath that most luxurious of staches, as this immense intelligence bent down upon this mystery, combing through every possible occurrence faster than that blasted hedgehog could run for cover from his unimaginable might, deeming this irregularity to be naught but a fluke in the movings of the world, and therefore irrelevant.
 
He rolled his eyes, muted the alert, and went back to sleep.
 
It probably wasn't important anyway.

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