Unpolished Gems: A Concept Collection

Why do we fight, year after year? What's the point? I think, staring at my mismatched hands. The warning sirens break the momentary silence and I duck behind an overturned tank, wincing as a barrage of missiles carves a fresh scar in the ground. Pieces of my squadron rain down, metal crashing as it hits the ground, resting only minutes before the scavenger drag their remains to the factory.

Over and over we do battle, traveling from planet to planet, draining it of resources to built more robots. Robots to make more robots, and to destroy our enemy. Our directive, build the biggest army possible and destroy the other army. But why? Who told us to do this? Who told our enemy to do the same? I punch the tank, wishing I could cry like the organic forms that used to live on this world. The darkness is lit by explosions and gunfire, death raining from the sky.

How many planets have I fought on? How many times have I been torn apart and put back together? I can remember the screams of the natives as we razed forests for fuel, tore mountains apart for minerals and burned cites to the ground. It hurts inside, knowing the evils I've committed in the name of victory. But victory never comes, we just fight, forever. I look at myself in the polished metal of the tank, a patchwork of different parts and metals, battle-scared and pitted with rust. I touch my chest, a hollow, aching sensation filling me.

Am I defective? Is that why I have these thoughts, these feelings? I'm a soldier, made for the sole purpose of killing. I stand up straight, and look around, taking in the carnage. I throw away my gun in disgust and glare at the other fighters, tearing each other apart needlessly.

I can't stop the fighting, the only thing I can do is try to survive. To get away from the chaos and destruction. I turn away from the battle and run, making a beeline for the nearest shuttle. None of the other robots noticed, their attention focused on the enemy as I launch into space.

I'll find a new place, untouched by the war. The war no one knows who started. I'll be free. Free from this endless struggle. Free to live my life, to discover why I was really created. Free to be me.