2025-02-22, 06:38 AM - Word count: 392
Day in the Life #0
Day in the Life #1
The humanoids (that Roger calculated are referred to as Winston and Remy) loaded Roger Roger, chained, onto a cart. The air outside the shack they emerged from is humid, a warm dew that threatens to short any exposed wires in his interface. Luckily his composite frame is built for such variations in environment. The cart lurches forward and begins on its path - destination unknown to Roger Roger. Anxiety and fear would be present in any lesser being, but Roger Roger feels nothing. Roger Roger was bred for war; the uncertainty of final destiny is the only certainty he has known.
Time passes. The cart enters the shadow of a monumental building of immense grandeur. Roger Roger can feel the electricity of anticipation in the air surrounding the area. "This is an arena of death" Roger Roger thought to himself. "Just like the arena on Geonosis where I experienced my first taste of war... and attack."
The cart stopped. "Identification, please" said an unknown humanoid.
"Hello good sir, I am Winston, this here is my partner Remy. We're here to deliver the star of the show! Surely the brass filled you in on the situation?"
"They did," responded the man. "I have instructions to escort you to the preparation room. Follow me please....and welcome to Port Royal."
As the cart started ahead and began its decent into the bowels of the great monument, Roger Roger calculated what could be meant by "star of the show." What was to happen to him?
Roger Roger found out soon enough. He was offloaded into a room with multiple other humanoids, all in uniform. Remy affixed a similar uniform to Roger Roger's body and was quickly ushered to the end of a long hallway. "Alright, listen, droid," said Winston while hobbling along as quickly as he could to keep up. "Power and speed. We changed your programming so you can keep up and not take anyone's head off. Put the ball in the big net at the opposite end of the field, got it? We'll give you a treat if you do well."
Roger Roger finally understood: he was to be used for sport. His programming was kicking in. He understood. Attack is attack. Roger Roger knows attack.
He responded: "Roger Roger."
Day in the Life #1
The humanoids (that Roger calculated are referred to as Winston and Remy) loaded Roger Roger, chained, onto a cart. The air outside the shack they emerged from is humid, a warm dew that threatens to short any exposed wires in his interface. Luckily his composite frame is built for such variations in environment. The cart lurches forward and begins on its path - destination unknown to Roger Roger. Anxiety and fear would be present in any lesser being, but Roger Roger feels nothing. Roger Roger was bred for war; the uncertainty of final destiny is the only certainty he has known.
Time passes. The cart enters the shadow of a monumental building of immense grandeur. Roger Roger can feel the electricity of anticipation in the air surrounding the area. "This is an arena of death" Roger Roger thought to himself. "Just like the arena on Geonosis where I experienced my first taste of war... and attack."
The cart stopped. "Identification, please" said an unknown humanoid.
"Hello good sir, I am Winston, this here is my partner Remy. We're here to deliver the star of the show! Surely the brass filled you in on the situation?"
"They did," responded the man. "I have instructions to escort you to the preparation room. Follow me please....and welcome to Port Royal."
As the cart started ahead and began its decent into the bowels of the great monument, Roger Roger calculated what could be meant by "star of the show." What was to happen to him?
Roger Roger found out soon enough. He was offloaded into a room with multiple other humanoids, all in uniform. Remy affixed a similar uniform to Roger Roger's body and was quickly ushered to the end of a long hallway. "Alright, listen, droid," said Winston while hobbling along as quickly as he could to keep up. "Power and speed. We changed your programming so you can keep up and not take anyone's head off. Put the ball in the big net at the opposite end of the field, got it? We'll give you a treat if you do well."
Roger Roger finally understood: he was to be used for sport. His programming was kicking in. He understood. Attack is attack. Roger Roger knows attack.
He responded: "Roger Roger."
