Shitbots

Two tall security bots had stepped into the room, their 'eyes' scanning the trembling woman in front of them. Shannon just cowered before the bots, her arms wrapped around her naked frame. She was a bit relieved that they were not policemen, but that hardly helped her in her predicament. Bots didn't entirely made communicating, her main problem ever since arriving, any easier.

"Target acquired." said one of the bots in a harsh droid voice. "Skinny and undeveloped. Estimated resistance is insignificant."

"What?!" exlaimed Shannon. She didn't know whether she should feel insulted at the bot's remark or not. After all, they were just shitbots with meek virtual intelligences. "I'm no target! I'm a police officer, you stupid machine!"

"I shall warn you, insulting any Umra 7 security products is strictly forbidden and is punishable by the head of security." said the second bot.

"I'm not insulting anyone. I am the victim here, dammit!"

"Tracing dialect." said the first bot.

"Oh, for fuck's sake... I'm speaking perfect common!" she yelled.

"What seems to be the problem?" asked the second bot.

"Finally! Geez. The decontamination machine's fucked up. Big time."

"Please refrain using any harsh language." said the second bot.

"The machine broke with my stuff in it." explained Shannon, feeling awkward after being reprimanded by a stupid machine.

"What did you 'stuff in it'?" asked the first bot.

"I... nothing. I meant, my clothes are gone."

"If you wish to be 'gone', then by all means leave. Have a pleasant stay on Umra 7." said the first bot.

"I've heard that already! Numerous times in fact. Give me back my stuff and I will have a 'pleasant stay' on your shitty planet!" she burst out.

"Calm down, slightly developed humanoid creature. We are just here to do our job." said the first bot.

Shannon blushed at that remark. She was fully developed, even if it didn't look that way. "Isn't your job to serve and protect?"

"Our job is to punish wrongdoers." corrected her the first bot.

That last line made Shannon feel mighty uncomfortable. Punish what exactly? She hadn't done anything wrong. She was the victim of some crazy malfunction.

"Under protocol B7, we have to place you under arrest." said the second bot.

"What? For what?"

"All shall be explained soon." said the first bot, slowly moving towards Shannon.

"Stay back!" she retreated to the bench. These stupid machines were not going to take her for something she hadn't committed."

"Don't. Worry. We. Will. Take. Care. Of. You." said bot number two, like it was talking to an imbecile.

"I don't need to be taken care of! I came here on an important mission! A mission, you two are interfering with!" She looked at the blaster on the bench, next to her badge. Surely the Federation would not object if she had annihilated a couple of 'broken' droids. Or would they?

The bot traced her vision. "Target resisiting arrest. Enable protocol X9."

"No! Whatever that is, I surrender!" she relented. Making any trouble with these stupid bots would only **** her to detail the information in her report. Something, she really wanted to avoid.

Bot one walked up to Shannon, and within a second, secured her arms behind her back in a tight grasp. "Flattie acquired." it announced.

"What? Get that thing off me! I surrendered!"

"And accodring to protocol CS 08, target should be taken to the head of security." explained the second bot.

"Finally! Give me something to wear and I will follow you to the Andromeda sector, if I have to."

"Unintelligible request. Proceed with the tranfer."

"No! Clothes! Something for me to wear!" panicked Shannon. "And my badge and gun." she nodded towards the bench.

"Badge. Here." said bot two and it placed Shannon's badge in her mouth. Her mouth, of all things.

Shannon tried to object, but she feared opening her mouth would make her drop her only identification. She just stared at the bot with eyes filled with hatred.

"Gun. Here."

Shannon expected it to be placed in her hand, but that was not the case. The bot harshly pushed her blaster, barrel first, right into her bum. Her eyes buldged the moment she had felt it. It wasn't a particularly big blaster, but it was way bigger than anything that had ever reached that secluded place. And the usual route was export, not import.

"Target secured. Proceed with the transfer." said the bot and started leading Shannon towards the door, as naked as she was.

"Mmmfghhmmm!" she tried to protest, but was afraid to open her mouth and lose her ID.

"Do not worry. The station is not at full capacity. And you do not have anything they would be interested in. Nothing to be afraid of, sweet pea."

Shannon looked at the bot pleadingly, but they just led her towards the door. Her predicament was dire, indeed. Agent Callaghan, best of the agency, was being led toward a public station without a stich of clothing, gagged, a gun up her arse, and not a person on the planet she had known to aid her. Could things get any worse?