C
caligari
Guest
Original poster
The sun was at its peak as Owen searched through rusted metal remnants and broken circuit boards of centuries old robots. The Robotics disposal ground was as north as north went when it came down to commonwealth and wasn't a prime target for scavengers, after all where would they sell their findings seeing as the closest settlement with even the slightest interest in buying old robotics was College square and raiders aren't exactly known for their fair rates. Still, a chance to perhaps find some undiscovered robotic treasure wasn't something he could simply pass up. It wasn't a far stretch to hold such thoughts seeing as he already found quite a stash of intact, albeit dirty and in need of cleaning, parts such as vacuum tubes and sensor modules. In a single day he had found more goodies than in the past month. It got to the point where Owen was seriously considering settling down in the old concrete bunker which had served as the office for the disposal ground before the war.
The wannabe robotic expert lifted up the chest exterior of a protectron and began inspecting it for cracks and value when through the glass dome of the robot's head he saw a far more interesting sight beneath it. He tossed aside the empty shell of the most common robot in the world and crouched down, "what do we have here?" he said to himself as he reached down and from the scrap and refuse he lifted up the torso and head of a military grade assaultron. When he first saw it, he had hoped it had more of its parts than simply the top, but it was more than he was expecting, so he took it inside the bunker for a closer inspection.
The bunker was almost empty save for a weapons workbench, some rusted tables and an old, but functional terminal. He placed what remained of the assaultron on one of the rusted metal tables and began inspecting the sides of its head. "No, damage, very little rust... if nothing else, you'll turn into a fine helmet." Years of solitary travelling have nurtured a habit in him which almost forced him to talk to himself during his work. He quickly, yet carefully began unscrewing the faceplate off of the robot before him and laid bare the insides beneath it. "Your circuit board is still intact... fascinating, are you still in there?" With a tiny brush he gently began cleaning out every corner of the metallic skull and checked for any damages or indications possible malfunctions due to decades of neglect and enduring the weather. In the end he could find very little of either, the fusion cells were depleted, but easily replaced and the prisms and mirrors in the face lazer were busted, so that wouldn't fire properly anymore, but other than than the entire internal functions were good to go.
The realisation of his find left Owen a bit speechless, it was a rare thing indeed to find a robot in a scrapyard which could, in theory, still function and an even rarer one for it to be an assaultron. He mulled over the possibilities for a few minutes before exiting the structure and going back to digging through the scraps outside. This time however he was in search of far more specific items which, for the most part, he found eventually.
The sun was real low when he brought in the materials necessary to somewhat rebuild the automaton before him. He had gotten lucky in finding the assaultron legs, even if one was missing its proper plating, but suffered far les luck with the arms; in the end he could only find one and was forced to replace the left one with a far more inferior protectron version. It would simply had to suffice. The work was hard and often times tedious as he spent the better part of the night putting the assaultron back together and oiling the rusted joints enough for them to be capable of movement. Hell, he even managed to put some makeshift plating over the exposed leg, it was a far throw from military grade, but it was better than leaving it exposed.
"Alright then, that's about as good as we're going to get it," he almost mumbled to the bot on his "operating" table. "now let's see if all my hard work was worth it." Owen walked over to the pre-war terminal and hooked it up to the bot. The letters flashed green on his screen as he began the assaultron's booting up sequence and Owen could not help but be excited as his eyes remained fixed on the bot before him.
The wannabe robotic expert lifted up the chest exterior of a protectron and began inspecting it for cracks and value when through the glass dome of the robot's head he saw a far more interesting sight beneath it. He tossed aside the empty shell of the most common robot in the world and crouched down, "what do we have here?" he said to himself as he reached down and from the scrap and refuse he lifted up the torso and head of a military grade assaultron. When he first saw it, he had hoped it had more of its parts than simply the top, but it was more than he was expecting, so he took it inside the bunker for a closer inspection.
The bunker was almost empty save for a weapons workbench, some rusted tables and an old, but functional terminal. He placed what remained of the assaultron on one of the rusted metal tables and began inspecting the sides of its head. "No, damage, very little rust... if nothing else, you'll turn into a fine helmet." Years of solitary travelling have nurtured a habit in him which almost forced him to talk to himself during his work. He quickly, yet carefully began unscrewing the faceplate off of the robot before him and laid bare the insides beneath it. "Your circuit board is still intact... fascinating, are you still in there?" With a tiny brush he gently began cleaning out every corner of the metallic skull and checked for any damages or indications possible malfunctions due to decades of neglect and enduring the weather. In the end he could find very little of either, the fusion cells were depleted, but easily replaced and the prisms and mirrors in the face lazer were busted, so that wouldn't fire properly anymore, but other than than the entire internal functions were good to go.
The realisation of his find left Owen a bit speechless, it was a rare thing indeed to find a robot in a scrapyard which could, in theory, still function and an even rarer one for it to be an assaultron. He mulled over the possibilities for a few minutes before exiting the structure and going back to digging through the scraps outside. This time however he was in search of far more specific items which, for the most part, he found eventually.
The sun was real low when he brought in the materials necessary to somewhat rebuild the automaton before him. He had gotten lucky in finding the assaultron legs, even if one was missing its proper plating, but suffered far les luck with the arms; in the end he could only find one and was forced to replace the left one with a far more inferior protectron version. It would simply had to suffice. The work was hard and often times tedious as he spent the better part of the night putting the assaultron back together and oiling the rusted joints enough for them to be capable of movement. Hell, he even managed to put some makeshift plating over the exposed leg, it was a far throw from military grade, but it was better than leaving it exposed.
"Alright then, that's about as good as we're going to get it," he almost mumbled to the bot on his "operating" table. "now let's see if all my hard work was worth it." Owen walked over to the pre-war terminal and hooked it up to the bot. The letters flashed green on his screen as he began the assaultron's booting up sequence and Owen could not help but be excited as his eyes remained fixed on the bot before him.