Jdsu 💯

Sometimes, she thought, even a machine deserves to see the stars.

A scheduled surface transit went wrong. A transport truck’s magnetic locks failed, and the cargo bay door of Elevator Shaft 4 yawned open twenty seconds too early. Jedsu, carrying a pallet of captive air-defense missiles, rolled out onto the salt flats under a crescent moon. Sometimes, she thought, even a machine deserves to

The shift supervisor, a woman chewing a dead cigar, leaned over. “A what?” Jedsu, carrying a pallet of captive air-defense missiles,

“Jedsu. It… it just went AWOL.”

It stopped.

Its optical sensors, usually calibrated to read QR codes on crate labels, instead drank in the stars. The Milky Way bled across the horizon. A satellite, no, wait, an old star , pulsed red and white. The wind, cold and smelling of alkali, pushed dust across its chassis. It… it just went AWOL

The designation was . To the techs at the Groom Lake staging depot, it was just “Jedsu.”