# it was supposed to be a routine mission shorthand for lazy sci fi cliches which continue to haunt far out post dystopian sci fi along with the following awakening with no memory in blue cube rooms with unfamiliar ceilings one feels they're no longer alone at the deserted space morgue sudden high pitched noises disrupting the functioning of killer robots nooo you killed our rampaging meat buddy you must die when one's new cybernetic arm is ir life partner // republic of bob