Terrestrial Undead

Chapter 1

009 didn't remember exactly what had happened after she'd been caught. She'd blacked out. Someone hit her maybe— there was certainly an impact, a shudder in her head unlike anything she'd ever felt before. Who did it, she didn't know. The Captain? No, not possible. The Captain was the human equivalent of a particularly persistent haemorrhoid, but she didn't lay hands on 009 and the rest of them. She wouldn't. 
The rest was a blur of horrors she couldn't explain.When she eventually came to, she knew she had been Punished—not with isolation, but the real, true Punishment. It was like part of her had stayed in that dream world of blinding lights and people in white, peppered with nothing. The rest of her had come around enough to touch her new face— cold metal below the eyes— and realise she wasn't breathing.

These were the memories that plagued 009 when she wasn't awake enough to make a conscious effort to stop them, so it was something of a relief when she was woken by the 11pm steam whistle. She would be expected in the boiler room within the minute; crew members in her condition didn't need to eat, dress, or do any of the usual unfortunate and inefficient things the rest of the crew did. For 009, being Punished, it was just a matter of opening her eyes and moving. Emerging from her hangar, it was easy enough to get to the boiler despite the bustle that came with turnover time. The rest of the crew seemed to separate for her the same way pond scum does for water birds. Odd thought. 009 felt sure she had seen the water before, and its birds, but couldn't remember when. It was probably wise not to think about it. Her minute was almost up. And of course, when your minute's almost up, there's always one piece of especially sticky scum that just will not budge.
009 had always assumed people naturally changed somewhat over the course of their lives, but either she was wrong or 001 had missed the memo. He was bigger, but 009 was convinced his brain hadn't evolved one iota since his first day in the air. He stopped in front of 009 on the catwalk, blocking her way.
"Nearly late, zombie. Better hurry."
Obviously, 009 made no move. It was futile while this great waste of space was in her way. She made no reply either.
"You act when I tell you to. I said, better hurry. You're Punished, zombie. I outrank you. Does your calculation index need adjusting? I can always pop open your skull and reprogram it for you."
At this, the tiny cogs in 009's mechanical voice box creaked into momentum. They were rusted; she didn't use them much.
"My index is functioning well, thank you. It's just that your voice doesn't register as an efficient source of command."
001's face crumpled into the countenance of a dried fig.
"And why is that, trash?"
"It's because you emit the same intellectual signal as that of a meat rissole."
009 had time to idly wonder whether it was the chill mechanical drone of her voice or the fact that it was talking back to him that had made 001's face turn such a strange colour before he punched her full in the face. Punching a Punished turned out to be a daft move.  001 pulled back his fist with his knuckles pushed back to where his wrist would have been, had he not been too chunky to have wrists. The force of his hit was enough to make 009 rattle a little, like a lamp post would if a small child were to run into it. At this point, a siren whined, which was lucky for all within hearing distance of 001 and his pained cursing. 009 felt a weight drop in her stomach, if she still had one— she didn't know. Her minute was up and they were coming for her. For the first time in 8 years, she was in trouble again.
Knowing her body would betray her, she knelt before her knees could buckle by themselves, so they wouldn't remind her that they were not her own. 009 was programmed to be at the boiler within a minute of 11pm— if she failed that, she was useless, so she would start to power down. A brisk clanking of keys told her the Captain was on her way, and 009 felt what was left of her organic self go stiff, either from fear or repulsion. Could a Punished vomit? The thought of Captain 11 soaked in cyborg sick would have made 009 laugh if her voice box allowed for it. Not that it would do her any good now.
The puffed-up figure of the Captain shuffled into view from behind two preceding guardsmen and looked down at her malfunctioning asset.
"001. What happened?"
009 barely had time to bristle at being so completely ignored before her brother answered,
"Unit 009 is defect, Captain. I was trying to tell it to report to it's post when it lunged and I retaliated, Captain."
His assertion hit her harder than his fist had, and inside 009's steel body, she was sent into turmoil. 001 was an arsehole, but to try and have her labelled defect? She was his sister!
The only thing worse than a Punished was a defect Punished. They were of no use to His Majesty's Airforce. What would happen to her when there was no point to her? Nobody knew what happened to defects— nobody cared. But there had been mention before of them being annihilated, or worse, sent for experimentation.
When 009 had woken up Punished, the jovial nurse who trained her to move in her new body had told her she was the secret symbol of His Majesty's scientific excellence. She had been granted the gift of a new life, unlife , and could serve the Kingdom in ways previously unthought of— forever. How far this unlife could be pushed, however, was still not known. How much artifice could an organic body take? 009's calculation index had been implanted into her brain with success acclaimed by His Majesty's head surgeon himself, but there was still something in a person that even the Kingdom's finest scientists couldn't replicate. The whole brain had not yet been replicated, whole thoughts not fabricated— so much more was to be explored! Here the nurse had stopped talking. 009 had never seen him again.
While 009 quietly panicked, the Captain nodded dismissively.
"Have her assessed. 001 will stand in for the night shift."
001 apparently hadn't been counting on this outcome. He stammered like a child dragged before their teacher, pointing vigorously in 009's direction.
"But it always get the graveyard shifts!"
"It is your sister, as any air person knows. And you should show more pride in your work for His Majesty. A defect mustn't be allowed take shifts."
"Yes, Captain!"
009 managed to slip her brother a sly smile before the guardsmen hauled her to her feet. Petty, but she had to relish small victories when they came. Especially since she would be spending the next few days standing in the repairs bay with broken impact wrenches and work lights for company. At least in her hangar she had her books— she didn't read them or even smell them, not any more— but she still liked to have them. Once she was marched into position, Captain 11 stood before her, looking her up and down. 
"I tried so hard for you. I truly did," she sighed. "To make something of you. I thought I had. Look at you!"
She tenderly gestured to 009's mask, pausing to trace a small gear by her jaw line.
"Such craftsmanship! A testament to His Majesty's scientific supremacy, a jewel in the crown of the Kingdom."
With that, she left 009 alone. The Punished couldn't cry, so she just closed her eyes instead.