Sergeant Yount could hardly contain his excitement as he waited for the Almayer's Chief Engineer to return from a command briefing. Sergeant Lamar dutifully wrenched the ship's engines into submission while Yount began to pry the shipping container open while ignoring the rest of his work. The Chief Engineer, Norris, arrived just in time to see Yount flinging the crate's lid off to the side, nearly striking Lamar.
�You couldn't wait for me, huh?� Norris joined Yount in pulling out the packing material, flinging anything that wasn't a fresh new robotic helper all over the floor. Lamar flipped through a discarded manual.
�Here we go boss,� Yount whispered in awe. Norris nodded.
Before them lay a brand new, top of the line Weyland-Yutani synthetic. And not just a normal unit. He was adorned with shiny black boots, neat olive drab trousers, a pressed shirt and tie, and a dark green jacket emblazoned with golden stitching that spelled out 'RANGER'. An impeccable wide-brimmed hat crowned the dark-haired synthetic.
�I still can't believe you won this thing in a bet,� Norris said, leaning over to activate the unit.
�Me neither, man. But that guy was a man of his goddamn word. Sent us their new Army Ranger model while they get that old refurbished piece of shit butler-bot. Goddamn trade of the century!�
�Um, guys,� Lamar said, looking up from the unit's service manual. Norris and Yount were lost in delusions of grandeur.
�Can you imagine the look on the Captain's face when she sees this?�
�Maybe we'll finally be forgiven for that incident in CL's office.�
�Do you think she'll let us take this guy down to the colony for some field testing?�
�He'll be perfect for recon, maybe help the 'ol IO with his paperpushing-�
�Chief!� Lamar snapped, pointing to the booklet. �
I think you guys really oughta see this...�
Nervously, Yount greeted the synthetic as it finished its start-up procedures.
�Hey, um, I'm Dan Yount. MT aboard the USS Almayer. What's your, uhh, designation?�
�Greetings, Dan Yount!� the synthetic exclaimed with a sharp salute. �I am Weyland-Yutani Generation 2, Series 217B, Model Yosemit-�
�Name, please?� Norris interrupted.
�You can call me Sam!� The synthetic flashed an unnaturally bright smile. Lamar placed her head in her hands, shoulders shaking. Yount looked physically ill.
�Alright then, Sam. You've been assigned to the Almayer. Let's review your support protocols and see what kinda work we can put ya to.� Norris glanced down to Sam's service manual.
�I am happy to be working with you at the Almayer National Park! I am capable of handling all routine park tending duties and handling any crises-�
�Oh my God,� Young sobbed. Sam continued to drone on about his capabilities.
�Jesus Christ,� Lamar muttered, holding back tears as Sam described his camping skills.
Norris stared at his new, top-of-the-line robotic Park Ranger.
�My preliminary scans detect 11 sources of vegetation in this park,� Sam reported in a flat tone. Norris and Lamar led him towards the bridge. Slowly. Yount had been abandoned back in the engine room to have an emotional breakdown.
�Marine patrol vessel,� Norris corrected.
�My apologies, Ranger Norris! Would you like me to run a report on local marine life and waterways?�
Lamar stayed silent, unable to say a single word without bursting into laughter. Norris glared at her as they stood before the command door.. After a brief pause, he visibly deflated with a sigh, and ushered the Lamar and Sam onto the bridge. They saluted the captain at her console while Sam waved politely.
�Captain Rainier, we uh, have the synthetic here to receive orders. Just shipped in.�
�Great, great,� the captain responded, throwing a salute. She glanced up briefly from her paperwork and monitors. �This one looks different.�
�Oh. Yes. Correct, ma'am. Looks like HQ retired our old synth and sent us a new one,� Norris explained. Rainier's eyes narrowed, focusing on the wording on Sam's jacket. She looked to Norris for further explanation.
�Ranger unit, Captain. We, uh, did ask the folks back at base to send the old synth back with less culinary modules and, you know, something useful. Looks like they listened?� Norris' voice rose higher as he searched for an explanation.
�Unit,� Rainier barked. �Your name?�
�I am Sam! It sure is a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Did you know that there's an inadequate amount of vegetation present at this location? Shall I generate a report on ecosystem viability?�
�Excuse me?� Rainier turned her chair to fully face her engineers. A few staff officers peaked out from behind their consoles to watch.
�As a ranger unit, he's already takin' stock of the terrain and topography. You know. He's a scoutin' unit after all. He's fit for action ground side. Does all the stuff we need. Can assist with overwatch, medical procedures, engineerin' tasks. He's just a little more geared towards reconnaissance. That's all.� Norris finished his explanation and turned to Lamar desperately.
�We'll get him to work right away, ma'am,� she said, grabbing Sam and steering him back towards the door. Before the Captain could continue, the XO interrupted her with something about a box of grenades in Delta bunks, giving Norris time to escape.
Yount was huddled behind a reactor when Norris found him. Lamar led Sam over to setup the SME units.
�Does she know?� Yount whispered.
�Listen, Danny. We told her the synth can do the job. Simple as that. We didn't need to mention it has a few, um, quirks installed. No need to make a big deal or draw anymore attention to this shit, alright?�
�You didn't tell her we traded our old synth for this crazy fucker, did you?�
�
We didn't trade shit, Yount! That was all
you!� Lamar shouted from across the room. Yount sniffled, eyes beginning to water again.
�What grade of petrol does this generator require, Ranger Lamar?�
�We're just setting up power storage. This thing doesn't take gas. Are you equipped for engineering duty, Sam?� Lamar asked.
�I am skilled in campsite construction, mobile generators, and light carpentry.� Sam smiled. Lamar grumbled.
�Can you at least watch the reactors' fuel levels? We gotta replace the cells periodically.�
�I am always prepared for fire watch duty, Ranger Lamar!�
Chief Norris and his MT's sat around their newly constructed mahogany table while they listened to the radio, collectively praying that the Captain wouldn't call for the synth�s assistance. Lamar and Yount were engaged in some card game while discussing where Sam might have found all the wood for their new furniture. Deciding the ignorance was bliss, Norris focused on blowing perfect smoke rings over the table. Sam stood at rigid attention next to Norris, gaze fixed on the cigar in his hand.
�Ranger Chief Norris,� Sam began. �I must advise you to put out your cigar. As many as 90 percent of forest fires in the United Americas are started by-�
�Shut the fuck up, Sam,� Norris hissed, flicking the rest of the cigar at the synth. Sam dodged without hesitation and immediately slammed his heel down to put it out. From seemingly nowhere, he pulled out a water bottle and gently poured it over the extinguished cigar. With a wry smile, Lamar tossed her own cigarette to the ground and watched Sam dart over to repeat the maneuver.
�I am out of water. Hydration is key on the trail! I shall replenish my stock!� Sam held the empty bottle out in front of him as he marched out of the engine room.
�I kinda just want to set a garbage bin on fire or something to see what he does,� Lamar said.
�Lamar,� Norris answered, annoyed. Lamar opened her mouth to respond before Norris cut her off. �Only you can prevent fuckin' forest fires.�
Sam strode towards the canteen, brushing past marines and crew alike. Before he could step foot in the kitchen, a bloodied man in blue scrubs grabbed him by the arm and shrieked at him to help.
�Whatever is the matter, sir?� Sam asked.
�Alamo just came up with a whole boatload of wounded! Stop standing around here and lend us a hand!� The man dragged Sam towards medbay. �I need you in room 2, got a Delta missing both his friggin' arms and I don't got time to print 'em new ones.�
�What species is in need of assistance?� Sam asked, not recognizing the genus Delta anywhere in his internal database.
�Might as well be goddamn gorillas, these friggin' Deltas.�
�I am not equipped to provide veterinary care to the
Gorilla gorilla and the
Gorilla beringei.�
�That was a metaphor, tinman!� The man shoved Sam towards the operating room. Once inside, Sam began to access his patient's condition. Indeed, the poor unconscious marine was missing both arms up to the shoulder. He gave the man a bright, reassuring smile as as he determined the appropriate level of veterinary care to provide. Surely there had to be some equivalent surgical protocol uploaded into his artificial brain!
�W-what have you? What the everlovin' hell is this shit?� The CMO stood in the operating room doorway, clipboard quivering in his shaking hands. Sam turned his head around as he finished astening the makeshift radio collar to the Delta marine's neck.
�Unfortunately I was unable to find the necessary equipment to track this critter. I utilized several irrelevant electronics in the lobby and in your doctor's offices.� Sam patted the marine on his freshly shaven head. �I also had to borrow clippers from the washroom so I could remove the fur from the surgical-�
�Is that a triage tag in his ear?!� the doctor howled, flinging his papers to the ground. He marched up to Sam and jabbed him right in the chest, narrowly missing a shiny park ranger badge pinned to his jacket.
�I was able to successfully process this,� Sam paused briefly before suddenly shouting
�DIDELPHIS VIRGINIANA!�
�What?!�
�Commonly known as the Virginia opossum-�
�The fuck?!�
�Once I finish assembling an E-collar I'll be able to send this friendly fellow off on his way back to his natural habitat!� The doctor's jaw dropped, stunned. Sam picked up two splints from his surgical tray, which had been strategically re-purposed into a large cone. �I have designed it to fit snugly above his radio collar so he will be unable to scratch or lick the amputated sites until they have fully healed!�
The CMO screamed.
�I have returned with additional water! We should have plenty for the trail!� Sam returned to the engine room with enthusiasm. Lamar was once again laboring away at refueling the reactors. Yount was missing. The CE was shouting into his headset while an angry voice could be heard screaming back through the receiver.
�Shall I assist you on your endeavors, Ranger Lamar?� Lamar jumped and dropped her welder. As she turned to respond to Sam, she found herself nearly shoved to the ground as Sam dove onto the welder.
�OPEN FLAME!� Sam bellowed.
�YOU GODDAMN SYNTHETIC!� Norris roared. He stomped his way over to Sam as he wriggled on the catwalk trying to turn off the device. Lamar crept backwards to hide behind another reactor.
�I have eliminated the threat!� Sam smiled up at Norris.
�That!� Norris jutted a finger at his headset. �Was the CMO! I just heard about your little foray into medicine!�
�I am highly trained in the treatment of all North American birds and mammals, as well as reptiles commonly found in-�
�You put a goddamn lampshade on some poor kid-�
�It was an Elizabethan collar. E-collar for short!� Sam sprung back to his feet. �Though it had to be constructed via salvaged materials. Perhaps I shall visit Requisitions to inquire about their veterinary equipment? The park�s supply appears to be dangerously low!�
Norris allowed Sam to chatter on as he attempted to come up with a solution to this nightmare. He saw Lamar silently shuffling away out of the corner of his eye. He pointed at her.
�Lamar!� She shook her head violently. �Don't you give me that. You know how much shit we're in? Where the hell is Yount? This is all his fault anyways!�
�He went to go check on the orbital cannon. I'm guessing he's either holed up in a power loader or found a way to chamber himself into the cannon so he can escape this mess.�
�Hmm. Wait. That's it!� Norris clapped his hands.
�Shoot Yount at the colony?�
�No! No, no! We send this thing-� he tilted his head towards Sam. �Down on the next drop. Hopefully he'll fuck off somewhere into nature and we can keep him from causin' more trouble. He only jacked up one surgery, if we get rid of him now we can keep this all from getting' worse.�
�Or we could power him down, put him back in his crate, and send him back-�
�I need ya to get movin' Lamar! Take this sonuvabitch to the hangar and shove his ass overboard!�
With a long sigh, Lamar straightened up and meandered over to Sam, who had moved on to describing the migratory patterns of the noble barn swallow. Wordlessly, she tugged on his sleeve and led him out out of the engineering department.
�Where are we going to next Ranger Lamar?� Sam chirped, cheerful as ever. Lamar opted for silence. At least she did until Sam had repeated the question three dozen times.
�You. You're getting on the Alamo. You're going to head down to the colony. That's where you'll get your next assignment or whatever.� Lamar dragged him onboard the dropship and fastened him into a seat as tight as she could.
�The Alamo?� Sam looked around in awe. �Originally called la Misi�n San Antonio de Valero, this Spanish fortress was the site of a famous battle that began on February 23rd in 1836...� He continued his soliloquy as puzzles marines watched.
�Yeah sure,� Lamar muttered. She scrambled off the ship and fled towards the tank bay, hoping to find solace.
Sam found himself caught in the messy shuffling of bodies moving in and out of the dropship when it landed. Many wounded were wheeled on board, but he was helpless to assist as a particularly bulky marine in heavy armor shoved him out onto the tarmac. Based on his larger than average stature, Sam could only assume that the gentlemen held some sort of leadership position. He saluted the marine and greeted him.
�Salutations sir! I am Ranger Sam, here to assist! What would you have me do?�
The marine paid him no heed as he marched off into a large building with a few squadmates in tow. Sam followed, repeating his question as they continued west towards an exit. The concrete landing zone, the corroding metal containers, and the dilapidated hallways of the colony's office complex had thoroughly obscured the splendid tropical environment Sam now found himself in. His attention was now completely captured by the beautiful flora and fauna overhanging the path forward. Most of the marines continued on by. One curious engineer stopped to observe. Seeing that he now had an audience, Sam engaged one of twenty-nine programmed tropical trail subroutines.
�The epiphytes are growing so well on this swietenia tree. Oh, and this carnauba palm is nearly taller than the building. Look! There's a patch of pitcher plants! The fearsome pitcher plant has evolved into an inconspicuous predator. They feed on unsuspecting insects, which are lured in by the lovely smell of its nectar!� The engineer's eyes glazed over. A low boom in the distance broke the spell, and he quietly carried on after his comrades.
Sam also carried on, giving a perfect tour of the paths leading northwest. He stopped here and there, advising any would-be tourists of perfect photo opportunities. He certainly could have continued his trek, which was programmed to run for three and a half hours not including two appropriately timed bathroom breaks.
�Move it buddy!�
Sam narrowing avoided a medic racing past with an occupied stretcher. Reverie broken, Sam turned his attention towards the now obvious sounds of war. Alerted, Sam's sensors began lighting up, tuning him into all available audio feedback.
�POACHERS!� he declared. �I must alert the ranger station!�
The burst of gunfire and rumbling of artillery led Sam straight to the front line of the conflict. Nearing the river, Sam was abruptly distracted by an unidentified reptilian creature lying still in the sand.
�Species not found,� Sam announced to the dozens of marines scurrying about him. He stepped over to inspect. �I do not recognize the structure of this carapace. It's been struck by a high caliber weapon.� Needing more information, Sam flagged down a smartgunner returning from across the bridge. �Greetings, valued guest!�
The smartgunner glanced at Sam, skeptical before recognizing the flat synthetic tone of voice. �Synth?�
�Yes! I am one of Weyland-Yutani's latest second generation 217B units! Model name Yosemite!�
�Well, uh, okay then.�
�You can call me Ranger Sam! Or whatever you prefer!� Sam extended his hand to the marine in a socially acceptable fashion. The now thoroughly confused marine reached out to shake his hand. With introductions completed, Sam pointed at the unknown corpse to their side. He looked to the gunner expectedly. �I am unfamiliar with this organism. Is it an endangered species native to this colony?�
The smartgunner huffed. �Endangered? Fuck no, man. This is the shit we're fightin'. Giant-ass lizards. With knife hands! And acid blood! They're like goddamn dinosaurs!�
�The dinosaurs went extinct approximately sixty-six million years ago!�
�Oh yeah?! Tell that to these fuckers!� The smartgunner threw her hand back and gestured across the river. A suddenly plume of green smoke emerged from the distant caves, rolling through the containers as screaming marines fled for their lives.
�Smoke?� Sam inquired, alarmed.
�Nope. Gas. Face-meltin' gas. It's like we're in the trenches, man.�
�Gas leaks are a major fire hazard,� Sam reported softly. Now spurred to action, he sprinted past the startled smartgunner, grabbing a fire extinguisher from a heavily armored marine wailing on his back.
�I must commandeer your equipment, sir!� the synthetic ranger explained as he rushed closer to the caves. He dove between retreating marines and leapt over a badly battered barricade. A man waving binoculars yelled for him to stop.
�INCOMING OB!!!�
Before he could interpret the man's message, Sam was flung back by the force of a massive explosion at the mouth of the cave. Heat whipped past him and flames burst forth, igniting several of the unidentified reptiles and all the vegetation in the blast zone.
�FIRE SUPPRESSION!� Sam exclaimed, leaping forward into the fire, aiming the extinguisher to smother the flames. Shocked, the marines could only cheer him on.
�We got 'em!�
�Look at that dude go!�
�Gasser down!�
�There ain't many left after that!�
With inhuman efficiency, Sam attacked the flames separating the marines from their prey. Sam turned back to advise them on how to properly put out a fire. He smiled brightly, his half-melted face and charred jacket slightly detracting from the seriousness of the situation.
�He cleared the way!�
�Good job robot!�
�DOUBLE-TIME!�
The marines piled back over the barricades and rushed through the partially cleared path into the caves. Amplifying his voice, Sam called after them.
�THE FIRE IS ONLY FIFTY-NINE PERCENT CONTAINED!�
�Explain this to me one more time, Sergeant.� Captain Rainier leaned over the table, jabbing a pen into the map before her. Several squad leaders and staff officers surrounded her in the conference room for their debrief. Sam stood in the corner at strict attention, his head obscured by what looked to be a makeshift lampshade.
�The synth,� Alpha's squad leader began, nodding his head towards Sam, �He cleared the way so we could finally get into the caves. We were able to recover thirteen captured marines in time before they burst. And we were able to get eyes on those lizards before they could escape. He saved us time, and absolutely saved several of those men.�
Rainier slowly spun her chair around to face the Almayer's newest synthetic unit, who was preoccupied with balancing the shade properly on his head. She glanced at Norris, who recoiled in fear. The chief medical officer stood stone-faced next to him, tapping his clipboard impatiently.
�So this so-called Ranger came in handy?� Rainier pondered, twirling the pen.
�Need I remind you of what
it did to Private Murr-�
�It was just one Delta, doctor,� Rainier cut him off, unconcerned. The debate was over. Norris gulped hard before uttering his concern.
�So we're going to... keep it?� he squeaked. The captain rolled her eyes.
�That�s an affirmative, Chief. I mean, it was still slightly more useful than the butler-bot.�
�I am still at eighty-three percent effectiveness,� Sam announced from beneath his new headgear. �Though with my cranium now exposed, I would not recommend that I be posted at the park entrance for receiving guests!�
�I recommend that you try some reprogramming or whatever it is you engineers do back there,� Rainier ordered. �And maybe whip up a new face or something.�
Norris grabbed the synth's singed sleeve. Sam grinned, his deformed smile partially visible. His lower lip had melted considerably, and several teeth were lightly scorched.
�Would you like to hear my report on the environmental impact on the colony's habitat?� Sam asked politely.
�NO.�