"Don't move," Aftermath repeats patiently. "Reboot your systems first."

Honestly, he doesn't blame the little mech for recoiling. The old mech was a towering, death gray colored pile of dense, combat-grade armor. He could fit the green fellow's head in one palm easy and probably crush it like a sheet of tinfoil.

"I am Aftermath," he answers, voice on it's gentlest setting. Easing back a bit more to give the little flier some space, he continues, "I just woke up here a while ago, just like you."