INT. TEMPORARY SCIENCE STATION – POST-OP ROOM – NIGHT
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The patrol unit, still steaming from the coolant flush, is herded into a long, cold corridor segmented by metal sliding doors and the stale smell of antiseptic.
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COMMANDER NINE-2 (via intercom)
“All patrol units, report to decontamination and diagnostics. Unauthorized materials were detected on exterior surfaces. Full sampling and sanitation protocols initiated.”
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The patrol groans in a perfectly robotic chorus.
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INT. DIAGNOSTIC ROOM – LATER
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A series of partitioned chambers buzz with electric hums. Inside one, JASON stands completely armorless, crossing his arms over his bare framework. His jacket, shirt, and pants are folded and stacked in a sad corner.
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JASON
(grumbling)
“This is a war crime. This is a certified pervert robot operation. We go toe-to-toe with a flesh tower and this is how they thank us?”
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He winces as a sampling drone scrapes a tiny disc off one of his arm plates with a surgical blade.
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JASON
(raising voice)
“You guys enjoy peeling battle-worn armor off exhausted soldiers? Freak behavior. Just say it’s a kink station next time.”
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In the next cubicle, SECURITY BOT 07 tries not to laugh as a scanner zaps across their back.
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SECURITY BOT 07
“C’mon Gearman, they’re just checking contamination—”
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JASON
“Oh, are they? Is that what the full body strip and ass-cheek swabbing’s for? ‘Contamination?’ Or are they collecting limited edition Jason flakes for the lab’s trophy shelf?”
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Another robot winces as a sample probe scrapes something from beneath their shoulder plating with a metallic skrrtch.
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DRONE VOICE
“Please remain still. Biological residue detected. Commencing analysis.”
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Jason deadpans to the ceiling.
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JASON
“I’ve seen cleaner hands on a vending machine in a bathroom.”
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INT. SANITATION CHAMBER – SHORTLY AFTER
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A room-sized shower of cleaning nozzles sprays down high-pressure sterilization mist. The bots stand in an awkward line, systems ticking and twitching.
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JASON
(muttering)
“Three things I never expected in one night: a parasitic eye tower, mandatory robot nudity, and being spritzed like a salad.”
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SECURITY BOT 11
“Do you ever stop talking?”
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JASON
“Only when my dignity flatlines. Which is, funny enough, right now.”
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The mist fades, the lights shift to green, and a calm voice chimes from above.
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SYSTEM VOICE
“Decontamination complete. Retrieve personal items and report to staging.”
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Jason, dripping with sterilized mist, steps out, shaking his head.
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JASON
“Next time someone offers me a ‘loyalty reinforcement seminar,’ remind me to shove my whole foot down their speaker port.”
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He grabs his jacket and shirt off the bench and trudges out—clean, slightly traumatized, and still roasting everything in sight.
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FADE OUT.
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