Limey wasn't pretty. Its casing was pitted, one optical sensor flickered like a lazy eye, and it hummed an off-key G sharp. But it worked. And in a deep-space agro-station where corrosive slime could eat through a bulkhead in six hours, a working bot was worth more than a silent officer.
"Limey is fine," Aris said.
Aris watched the bot navigate a tricky patch of floor grating. It hesitated, recalculated, then laid down a perfect white foam line. "Protocol 9-Alpha was written by people who never had to scrape acid off their helmet visor with one hand while holding a patch kit with the other." ph bot uzatma