Ficly

Muffle

Unit MFL061 sat placidly at his console, focused tightly on piloting the heavy ship through the mess of an ion storm, plas-skin covered index finger tracing the starmap touchscreen with cool determination.

One of the few humanid bots on the crew, MFL061 was also the newest. Historically the gregarious GLB series had been poorly received by most ship crews, not to mention the older bots also had a tendency for self-ejection the scientists couldn’t explain, so the MFL line had gone into full production with their validation stamp still wet on their certification.

His cargo ship had bought the sixty-first bot off the line, desperate for a new pilot though the captain was understandably wary of trusting a hunk of metal and faux flesh; the salesman had convinced her of the MFL’s complete dedication to whatever task they were given.

The silent ship finally pulled into a protected spaceport.

Primary task completed, MFL061 noted the failure of life support in the log and waited quietly for his next assignment.

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