Notes: This fic takes place as Connor confronts Markus in Jericho. You know the scene.
It also assumes that Connor has taken the best path, and Markus is on the pacifist route.
For an optimal experience, follow along with the chess moves on an actual chess board, or use: www . chess analysis?fen=rnbqkbnr+w+KQkq+-+0+1&flip=false&diagramType=computer
One last time, just to be sure.
A single misstep could lead to the decommissioning of every android- not only in Detroit, but nationwide. The deviant has to be stopped immediately, for the good of CyberLife. For the good of humanity.
Connor once again runs a quick diagnostic on itself, awaiting the results with a sense of anticipation that could nearly be considered anxiety, if not for the fact that the RK800 is compliant, and by definition is unable to feel such strong emotions. Emotion is a deviant weakness, one that Connor is unfamiliar with and will continue to be for as long as its active.
Within seconds, the results of the diagnostic flash across its vision:
Location: Jericho
Date: December 17, 2038
Time: 2223
Objective: STOP MARKUS
Thirium 310 oxygen level: 97%
Pulse reading: 73 bpm
Level of Stress: 32%
All systems functional.
All clear; the android is right as rain. Connor pulls its black beanie securely on its head and, after taking a second to center itself, slips in past the unguarded door to the deviant leader's hideout. The compliant is honestly surprised that there isn't any sort of protection or sentry outside of the building, but it doesn't expect that Markus would have the military prowess required for such foresight.
Markus appears to be standing alone in the room, deep in thought, his back to the compliant. With an almost smug sense of satisfaction, Connor draws its handgun from the small holster around its waist and trains it on its opponent. "I've been ordered to take you alive, but I won't hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice."
The deviant slowly turns around to face Connor, his eyes glancing up and down the compliant's getup with a look of confusion that rapidly turns to disdain. Almost immediately, Markus throws his hands up, a clear sign of surrender. His voice, while steady, has a faint undertone of fear ever so common in deviants in the moments before they're captured. "There's no need to do anything rash, I'll come with you willingly."
Connor stares at the deviant, incredulous. That was far simpler than the RK800 could have imagined. Even the blue-haired Traci from the Eden Club put up a fight after being confronted. Surely he has to be pulling something, right? Either way, standing around like a bump on a log isn't going to do any good. Connor takes a step towards its rival, its gun still trained on him with unwavering concentration.
"On your knees, hands behind your back. No sudden movements. Now!"
Markus, closing his eyes and sighing deeply, acquiesces. "This isn't going to work in your favor, you know. Our people will continue to work in my absence. Our movement cannot be stopped by the capture of one android."
"Quiet!" The compliant circles behind Markus, never dropping its gaze, keeping its muscles taut in case the deviant decides to strike. Head down, neck protected. Use your arms to cover your thirium pump. Don't take your eyes off the enemy, not for a single second. Deviants will use any opportunity to take the upper hand, do not give them the opportunity.
The deviant lifts his head, raising his gaze to meet Connor's. "Will CyberLife be compensating you for this, or are they going to keep treating you like a caged animal once you drag me in?"
"That's enough." The RK800 drops to one knee, whipping out a pair of heavy, steel handcuffs to bind the deviant with one hand and using the other to shove its handgun back into its holster. Despite the fact that androids are in no legal way considered human, federal regulations require Connor to read the Miranda Warning to any being, human or otherwise, being taken into custody. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a co-"
Before Connor is able to finish its statement, Markus twists his arm around, firmly taking Connor by the forearm. The RK800 jerks backwards, its other hand fumbling for its gun, but it is unable to escape as the deviant renders his skin transparent and forcefully connects to Connor's memory.
Connor's vision blurs and its limbs lock before it can so much as unclip the gun from its holster. The android is only able to cry out a hearty "You motherfu-!" before darkness overtakes its vision and it falls into unconsciousness.
And then there's nothing.
An eternity of darkness,
eerily silent,
black as pitch,
cloaking all,
and Connor is unable to do so much as lift a finger or wiggle a toe to get a sense that it isn't completely incapacitated.
Has it been recovered by CyberLife and taken apart? Is it still in Jericho, waiting to be tortured by the deviant militia?
It hears a faint rustling over to its left.
A scientist?
A deviant, perhaps?
Amanda?
It's impossible to tell. The compliant longs to be able to move something, anything, even a single eyebrow- but it's granted no such mercy.
Hours pass, seemingly.
More rustling.
The sound of plastic on wood.
A voice; deep, gentle, hovering by its right ear.
"I didn't hurt you, did I? I doubt you would've been built with pain receptors, but with newer models it's impossible to tell."
Markus. Of course.
What is he going to do, then? Keep Connor locked up as a political prisoner? Kill it? Deviants, Connor knows, have no sense of moral code, and are willing to go to any lengths to undermine the humanitarian institution.
No matter how friendly they may seem, it's nothing but an act to gain the favor of those with weak wills.
Connor remains motionless.
It attempts to run a diagnostic to find out why it's paralyzed, but it's unable to do even that. Yet another failure to add to the list. With its ever diminishing ability to actually do its damn job by shooting deviants as required by each case, the list has grown quite long.
"Oh- right, sorry." Connor feels a hand grab its forearm once again, and it feels as if a weight has been lifted off of it's entire body. Connor is immediately able to control its limbs once again.
Connor blinks itself awake, quickly taking in its surroundings. A vast white expanse surrounds it as far as its cybernetically advanced optical units can see. Aside from a short, wooden table, two chairs, a polymer chess set, and the deviant himself, crouched down a few feet away from it, nothing else populates the ocean of white around it.
The RK800 takes a moment to steady itself, pulling itself to its feet. Then, after ensuring that none of its systems have been compromised, attempts to send a report to CyberLife detailing its apparent capture. Much to Connor's surprise, it isn't able to reach Amanda at all. The report can be compiled, but its as if the signal is being blocked before the message can be sent.
Connor attempts a second time, closing its eyes and focusing on returning to Amanda's garden, but still finds itself firmly planted next to the deviant, who is extending a hand out to Connor in an attempt to help it to its feet.
This is… unexpected, to say the least.
Acting purely on instinct, the compliant reaches for its gun, only to find an empty holster where the machine would usually be kept. In fact, Connor doesn't seem to be wearing the same clothes as it was only moments ago- it's back in its normal work suit, the blue triangle over the left side of its chest glistening in the ambient light. It feels absolutely normal, in these clothes. As if in a default state, where everything is as it should be. Markus, on the other hand, is still wearing his clean yet worn ensemble- save for his jacket, which had been delicately placed over the back of one of the chairs at the table. Connor quickly takes stock of the rest of its operations.
Location: Unknown
Date: January 1st, 1970
Time: 0000
Objective: STOP MARKUS
Thirium 310 oxygen level: 97%
Pulse reading: 85 bpm
Level of Stress: 36%
All systems functional.
Well, obviously all of its systems are not operational, but at least its physical and mental processes haven't been compromised. Connor turns its attention to the deviant, ignoring the helping hand and standing up on its own. "Care to explain what the hell is going on here?"
The deviant brings himself back up to his feet. "This…" Markus gestures to the space around them. "...is a simulation designed to help us better understand each other without any distractions. All inside your motherboard. An hour here equates to about a second back in the real world, so there's no need to worry about any responsibilities you have out there. And I don't plan on hurting you in any way, I only want to talk."
Connor isn't impressed in the slightest. "And my gun?"
Markus shakes his head. "That wouldn't be very conducive to creating a mutual understanding between us, so you won't find it here."
Connor pauses, processing the situation. It wasn't aware that such a space even existed, inside or outside of its mental sphere. "...and if I don't cooperate? If I decide to just walk off, or if I attack you? I'm not exactly keen to bend to the will of the deviant I was sent to take into custody."
"If you want to walk away, go ahead. You won't find anything. As for attacking me, I wouldn't bother. Unless you plan on ripping my thirium pump out of my chest with your bare hands, you won't be able to harm me." Markus meanders over to the table and sits in the chair with his jacket hanging on it. He gestures for Connor to follow.
The RK800 gazes out into the white abyss. Neither its UV nor its infrared sensors indicate anything other than a blank expanse; it simply appears to be an eternal sandbox of sorts. Never one to rely on its sensors alone, Connor begins walking in a random direction, but, as Markus said, the area around the two is completely empty.
Begrudgingly, Connor trudges over to the chess table. It roughly yanks the chair opposite to Markus back and plops down in the seat, acting not unlike a toddler just after waking from a nap.
"You do know kidnapping a government agent is a federal offense, right?" Connor quips.
Markus doesn't hesitate with his response. "I think I'm well past that at this point."
Seconds pass in silence. Markus begins squaring the pieces on the chess board, placing them each just so in the center of each space. "I suppose you're wondering what this chess set is all about."
Connor sits uncomfortably in its chair, unsure of whether to keep its guard up or make an attempt at relaxing slightly, to gain the deviant's trust. At this point, the latter seems unattainable. "...No shit. If you assume I'm just going to let you walk all over me because I'm compliant, you're terribly mistaken."
Markus shakes his head, looking back up at the compliant. "No, I've read your file, I know who you are. I felt like, at this point, introductions aren't necessary. Surely you understand. After all, you were sent to capture me."
"If you're about to make a 'how the tables have turned' joke, I'll walk," Connor says, crossing its arms.
Markus can't help but flash a grin. At least the compliant has a sense of humor. "Wasn't planning on it. But now that you mention it…"
"We're done here." The RK800 abruptly scoots the chair away from the table and stands up. It may be stranded in a white abyss, but that doesn't mean it has to put up with this absolute bullshit. It could just keep walking until it found a way out. There has to be some sort of exit or escape door; Markus surely couldn't be moronic enough to lock himself in a room with an android known for capturing deviants.
Markus jumps to his feet and reaches an arm out towards Connor, but seems reluctant to actually touch it. "Hey- Connor, wait. Look, I'm not asking for information, or for you to defect against CyberLife- all I want is for you to play a game of chess with me."
"A… game of chess?" The compliant doesn't believe this for a second. There has to be some sort of hidden motive, otherwise Markus would've proposed all of this back in Jericho. Connor was warned about how tricky deviants could be, especially their leader, and it doesn't plan on getting hoodwinked during such a high stakes mission.
Markus leans back in his chair. "Yes, exactly. One game. Nothing fancy, no tricks, no hidden traps designed to keep you stuck here. Just you, me, and the board."
Connor stares at its opponent, the suspicion clear on its face. "And what? If you win, you get the right to kill me? Or perhaps you'll take over my mainframe and control me so that you can gain access to CyberLife intel?"
"If you win, I'll give you back your handgun and you can act as you see fit. You'll have the chance to end the simulation without giving me the opportunity to alert anyone else in Jericho." Markus sits himself up straight in his chair, crossing his fingers in front of him. "If I win, on the other hand, I'll end the simulation, and you'll have a choice to make. At that point, you could either kill me, take me in, or join your people in the fight for freedom."
This all sounds… surprisingly reasonable. Yet still slightly suspect. There's nothing stopping Markus from making a break for it, should he win the game. That, or he could call for help, and Connor would truly be fucked.
But if Connor wins, on the other hand… this could all be over. Markus would be dead, and without an android with such strong leadership skills, the entire deviant movement would dwindle into nothingness. Connor would go back to working for the Detroit Police Department, and life would continue as normal. Deviants would be stopped with efficiency as soon as they appear, Amanda would be pleased with it, and Lieutenant Anderson, while initially disappointed at the loss of a few of the more deceptive deviants, would learn to welcome their new deviant-free society. If this bullshit goes on for any longer, all androids- deviant or compliant- will be blacklisted and killed on sight. It has to end now.
There's also a third possibility that this all is an elaborate ruse, but at this point Connor doesn't see any better option than to play the damn game.
Well, then, the RK800 just has to make sure it wins the game. Shouldn't be too hard. After all, Markus is burdened with the weakness of emotion, while Connor relies on nothing more than pure logic. Ones and zeroes. Electrical impulses that can't be influenced by rage or sorrow or betrayal. It has nothing to worry about, not that it can worry, of course.
Connor slowly makes its way back over to the chair and sits down. "...so why chess? Does poker have too many rules for you?"
"I'm not cocky enough to think I could beat you in hand-to-hand combat. I prefer to solve my problems with words. An eye for an eye, you know the rest. And while chess may be a game about war, I'd like to think it's a relatively peaceful one. You want black or white?"
There was also, of course, the fact that Carl would ask Markus to play chess with him almost on the daily, but that wouldn't matter to the compliant. Markus has no doubt in his mind that, as of right now, Connor couldn't give less of a fuck about Markus' feelings or experiences or thoughts on humanity. Hopefully he'll be able to break open Connor's shell a bit, but currently it's like he's speaking to an aggravated AOL chatbot.
Of course, this doesn't make the game of chess any less thrilling to the deviant. To him, each game is an adventure, with no two games having the same outcome. Over the years of daily games played with Carl, the human had never made the exact same sequence of moves twice. This gave chess an almost ethereal quality to the deviant; always shifting, never dull or routine no matter how ingrained in routine the playing of the game happened to be. Unfortunately, Markus and the other deviants have been far too busy in the past weeks to even squeeze in a single game of chess, but gaming is a luxury Markus can't afford, save for times like these.
Connor, on the other hand, hesitates, looking at Markus, then down at the chess board, and back to Markus.
"...black." That way, at the very least, Connor could mirror its opponents moves if needed. Connor often found it far easier to respond to the actions around it than to act of its own volition.
"Sounds good. White goes first, but you already knew that, right?" Markus flips the board around, landing the white pieces squarely in front of him and the black set in front of his opponent. He rubs his hands together, staring down at the board and quickly formulating an opening strategy. After a few moments, his eyes light up with a sort of passion that Connor hadn't seen in any android before; the sort of passion it only saw when Lieutenant Anderson discussed the intricacies of human life, or when Kamski mused about the ethics of creating androids. The compliant honestly had never considered that deviants were even capable of feeling such strong positive emotions. Thinking back, the only deviants it had come into contact with before were either enraged or distressed.
"All right," Markus says, his face alight and his eyes shimmering with an almost childlike joy. "Let's begin."
If somebody doesn't talk to me about this game I'm gonna start leaving authors notes a la 2010 like:
Me: Ughhh writing is so hard...
Connor: TT_TT youre not gonna hurt me right?
Me: not unless someone tries to take you from me! XD he's mine~~~ *holds up knife*
My mom: if you're awake in there, you're grounded! it's a school night!
Me: eep! ono connor, hide!
Connor: *muffled screaming*