The Kaban Project

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Two microns to the left. Now four down. There... Adept Third Class Pallas Ravachol adjusted the fine callipers that slid from his fingertips, watching with smug satisfaction as the hardwired doctrina wafer slid smoothly through the cerebral cortex of the servitor's brain for at least what the lobotomisation process had left of its brain and into the medulla oblongata.

'No one knows servitors like me,' he said as fibrous tendrils wormed their way from the wafer and into the grey matter of the brain. With the new doctrina wafer meshing nicely, he rotated the servitor's gleaming alloy cranial cap back and lifted a portable cutter to snap the bolts into place that protected the servitor's brain from harm. He placed the damaged wafer into the pouch that hung from his tool belt, careful to ensure he didn't mix it up it with the functioning ones. He shuddered as he imagined the consequences of placing a damaged wafer in the brain of a battle robot or implanting a combat sequence into the mind of a loader servitor.

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