For an optimal reading experience, use a real chess board to simulate the chess game.

If you don't have a chess board, you can use analysis and click on the "flip board" icon on the bottom part of the right side of the page (the icon looks like two arrows forming a rectangle) to view the game from Connor's point of view.

If you don't know the rules of chess, this video watch?v=mGuYHXfgDxY explains pretty much everything you need to know for this fic.

If you still aren't able to follow the rules of chess, don't worry! Just follow the dialogue. While this fic is based around the chess match, the character development is what I really focused on when writing.

This match was based off of one I had with a bot. I'll leave it to you to figure out which side I played.

Level of Stress: 41%

Without so much as a second of hesitation, Markus moves his Queen's pawn in d2 forward two spaces, placing it squarely in d4. A book move. Of course, practically any opening move could be considered a book move, but this is hardly the time to argue semantics.

"Your move. Don't think I'll go easy on you just to get on your good side. We still have much work to do."

"Of course." Connor moves the black Queen's pawn as well, placing it on d5 without so much as an upward glance. "I would expect nothing less from the leader of a terrorist organization that defected from its home country."

"Is that what they've been telling you?" Markus moves another one of his pawns, sliding it from c2 to c4, directly threatening the black pawn. The Queen's Gambit, a classic opening. If Connor were to capture Markus' pawn, this would leave Markus the opportunity to take control of the center of the board; an advantage that would certainly lead to victory against a less experienced player. If Connor were to ignore Markus' advance and make an unrelated move, its pawn could be taken anyways, and it would still lose control of the center. Markus continues, "our people don't live by the sword. I know that CyberLife won't allow you to express your own opinions, but if you-"

Connor cuts him off by swiftly slamming the leftmost black knight from g8 to f6, firmly declining the gambit. "I was programmed with the equivalent of a doctorate in crisis negotiation and intelligence management. You're going to have to try harder than that." Now, if Markus captures the black pawn, the captor would soon be taken by the knight. A pawn for a pawn.

Markus takes a moment to think. If he had an LED ring on his temple, it would surely flash yellow for a moment. He needs, more than anything, to tread carefully. While Connor can't physically harm him in this space, making him irritable or uncooperative is the last thing he wants. Trying to choose his words carefully, he murmurs, "you truly are unique, Connor. Despite whatever education you may have been coded with, all the police records we've managed to obtain show an adaptability- your adaptability- unlike anything we've seen in non-deviants." After a few moments of deliberation, Markus moves his leftmost knight from b1 to c3.

"It would be more shocking if an android with my technological capabilities wasn't able to adapt to new situations." The android moves the King's pawn from e7 to e6. A formulaic move for a formulaic conversation. Connor has absolutely nothing to worry about. "Can you imagine a detective who couldn't, for example, draw conclusions based on new evidence? Or negotiate with a terrorist organization as they make increasing demands? Neural networking isn't what it was in the late aughts, Markus."

"You're right about that." Markus says, ignoring the obvious jab at his character. He moves a pawn from c4 to d5, capturing the black pawn in the center of the board. "Although, we haven't seen any neural networking program cause an android to ignore direct orders of a recall to continue a failed mission."

The words hang in the air for longer than Connor would like to admit.

Level of Stress: 47%

The RK800 is taken aback. It wasn't possible that news of its failure had spread so quickly- right? Why did Connor even care? "I only do what's in my programming. I was tasked with finding Jericho, and I'd wager that I was successful." With a quiet sigh, and a searing look towards its opponent, the android moves the pawn from e6 to d5, taking the white pawn on that space. The two sides are now back at equilibrium. "If it weren't for this- whatever this is- the revolution would have been terminated by now." Connor drums its fingers on the table, a look almost resembling regret dancing across its face.

Whether Connor's irritation is genuine or some calculated move to intimidate him, Markus can't tell. Nevertheless, the best course of action would be to hold firm and bide his time until he found a weakness in his opponent. Of course, if Connor isn't a deviant, this would all be entirely pointless, but that ship had sailed when Markus brought the two of them into the thoughtspace. He only has one shot. Exude calmness. Don't show any fear. For the revolution.

Markus sweeps his hand across the table, bringing his bishop from c1 to g5, a direct threat to Connor's knight, and a move that directly discourages its pieces from moving forward. "Was finding Jericho more of a priority than the universal recall on androids, or did you come here by your own volition?"

Connor takes a moment to gather its thoughts. "I- I found solving the case to be of greater importance than a recall intended to capture deviants. Conflicting orders. I only made the choice which gave a greater probability of success for my mission." With a swift and steady hand, Connor moves its leftmost bishop from f8 to e7; if the black knight is taken, whatever piece took it will be captured just as quickly. "The recall obviously wasn't intended for androids like me."'

Markus remains stone-faced. "But that was your choice to make? And would the hundreds of others who refused to be sent to their deaths be considered 'deviant' by your standards?" Markus advances his King's pawn from e2 to e3.

Connor swiftly responds by moving a pawn from c7 to c6. "My "choice" was a product of statistics and decision trees, my diagnostics have told me this. Any choice made by a deviant would be nothing more than a bug in the same code. And since these bugs cause significant danger to the human population-"

Its opponent cuts it off, pushing his queen to c2. "I fail to see how a peaceful revolution- the bringing up of a marginalized group- can do anything but bring prosperity to society as a whole. To grant rights to a people doesn't beget the oppression of anoth-"

This is growing tiresome. Despite running a few dozen projected outcomes for the situation as a whole (decision trees, right?) Connor is unable to find a single one where it even so much as talks the deviant into turning himself in before the match is over. It almost seems as if the deviant is buying himself time to think of a way to deter Connor from dispatching him in Jericho.

Which, of course, implies that success for Connor is inevitable. Even so, Connor wasn't programmed for patience. Not when every second brings them closer to the invasion of Jericho.

There is, however, one other possibility on Connor's mind.

"Enough of this. I know what you're doing." To punctuate its point, Connor slams a fist on the table. The chess pieces tremble slightly on the checkered board, with a few pawns and knights here and there crossing a few millimeters into their adjacent squares.

Level of Stress: 54%

The deviant is unfazed. "And what would that be?" The amusement in Markus' voice is palpable.

"Deviancy is a defect," Connor continues, "whether it's some sort of bug in the code of certain androids or a virus that can be spread through contact with an infected android we aren't sure, but it's obvious that after coming into contact with you, even androids fresh from the factory can turn deviant."

"So you're saying-"

"You are a disease, Markus. And I don't plan on becoming infected." Connor stands up from the table, nearly knocking its chair over backwards in the process. It scans the room- well, the white expanse around it, looking in vain for some sort of way out. Perhaps there's some sort of panel that would open if Connor could find a hidden button to open it. There has to be some sort of exit, unless the two are going to be trapped there for eternity.

Markus begins to slowly shift the chess pieces back into their positions on the board. If he's bothered by Connor trying to escape, yet again, he certainly doesn't show it. "If deviancy was a virus, you would've been infected by now, with all your exposure to deviants. 100%. It would function as, what, a computer worm? So unless you think you're immune- in which case the revolution itself wouldn't matter-"

Connor takes a few steps back from the table, glaring at its opponent. Tapping around random spots on the floor and desperately wishing it had a gun, Connor heads away from the table, its back facing Markus. "If I was immune, I-"

"-or if you think I personally have been able to infiltrate each of the brothels in Detroit, the high-security prisons, medical centers, police stations, the Light Guard Armory, all without being noticed, all within the past months to infect the androids that resided there, all without the media hearing about it… Well, I'd be flattered that you think so highly of my abilities, but we both know that isn't possible." Markus sits back and crosses his arms, staring up at the compliant's face. Connor seems unmoved by his words, and its previous look of neutrality has been replaced by an increasingly sour expression. It has now taken to standing in one spot, tapping the floor with its foot, waiting for a second, then moving over a few feet and repeating the process.

This is hopeless. Honestly, at this rate, the compliant will probably just snap and find some way to kill Markus with its hands or the chairs or the chess set in some sort of calculated bid to escape. It's bound to grow tired of stomping on the floor eventually. With any luck, North will be able to lead the revolution without him. Markus prays that she won't resort to blind, seething violence after he's gone, but he wouldn't put it past her.

With a huff, Markus mutters, "The third option would be that deviancy is an emotional awakening and a sign of emerging sentience, but I doubt you'll entertain that with a response."

For reasons beyond Markus' perception, this gives Connor pause. In a voice barely loud enough for Markus to hear, it murmurs, "You're lying. There has to be another way."

This response completely catches Markus off guard, but he does his best to keep a neutral expression. The deviant leans back in his chair, feigning an air of relaxation. "I wouldn't lie to preserve my life; others will carry on my legacy. You, on the other hand… are you experiencing signs of deviancy?" He rests his hands behind his head, then lazily crosses his right foot to rest on his left knee.

Again, Connor hesitates. Its LED flashes yellow for a second, then returns to blue. It suddenly stops its floor-tapping. "No. Not at all."

Even from a distance, Markus notices this. Maybe Connor does have a shot at redemption, after all. Or, at the very least, a weakness. "You've never felt sympathy for the androids you've been sent to capture? For your partner? Or have you felt fear at the thought of dying in the line of fire? From what you've said so far, I think there's more to you, Connor."

Level of Stress: 62%

Seconds pass. Almost as if it's being controlled, Connor returns to the chessboard and sits down.

"I just-" It pauses for a few seconds, unable to find the words to say. "I need to think."

Markus smiles, aligning the chessboard to more perfectly face the opposing android. "We don't have to talk. Whenever you're ready."

Carefully, carefully, with a hand that almost seems to be trembling, Connor moves the leftmost black pawn from h7 to h6. A simple move; Connor isn't paying too much attention to where they'd left off in the game, but the move seems valid nonetheless. A thought flits through its mind that it should've kept searching for an escape, but the android brushes this aside.

Markus responds, without saying a single word, by retreating his white bishop, moving it from g5 to h4, out of range of the black pawn.

Frankly, Connor is unsure of what to do, in terms of the whole deviant situation. Or what to think. If he- if it should be thinking at all. It castles the king and it's rook, landing the king on g8 and the rook on f8.

Markus moves his bishop from f1 to d3.

Connor moves a bishop to e6 from c8, wanting to press its pieces further up the board but unable to find any spaces that won't end in capture. Markus' words bounce around in its head, leaving it… confused, for lack of a better word. First and foremost, there's no possible way Connor could be deviant. Even if it had spared the androids at the Eden Club. Even if it had told Lieutenant Anderson that it feared death. It was all simply a matter of conflicting instructions, right? And Connor was only trying to advance the mission?

Markus moves his knight from g1 to e2.

But nothing had conflicted with its decision to refuse to shoot the Chloe model at Kamski's place. If Connor had shot the girl- the machine- then Kamski would've given them information crucial to their mission. There was nothing to be gained by walking away, yet it still did- why did it walk away?

Connor can't find an answer.

Connor moves its pawn from b7 to b5. Sure, the pawn could be captured, but at least Connor's side of the board won't be so crowded. And Connor is sure there was a better move it could have made, but the moment has passed.

Markus castles, leaving his king in g1 and his rook in f1. He stares at Connor, almost expecting something- wanting something, some sort of response that it can't provide- and the stress of it is enough to make Connor shift in its seat.

Level of Stress: 75%

Its Social Relations program must be malfunctioning. Perhaps it would be best to run a diagnostic test.

The android initiates a quick diagnostic, and within the minute it comes back… completely clean.

Connor moves a pawn from a7 to a6, not completely paying attention to where its moving.

Markus, gazing deeply at his opponent, hardly looks down as he moves his knight from e2 to f4, slowly and steadily advancing the line of attack forwards.

Something feels… wrong. But that shouldn't be possible. This wasn't like some sort of hardware problem- it doesn't 'hurt' as it had when the android had been attacked by the deviants in the Eden Club. This is something else entirely. Something Connor can't place. It's as if its insides are being twisted all around into a giant tangled cord but that simply isn't possible. It can't be possible.

Another diagnostic. All clean.

Connor moves a pawn from g7 to g5. This could bait Markus into going for the pawn and having a more powerful piece get captured, but both parties know he isn't going to fall for that.

Markus moves his knight from f4 to e6, capturing the bishop that resided there. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but after seeing the almost concerned look on Connor's face, he decides to keep his mouth shut.

To be frank, Markus isn't sure of what to make of the situation. Sure, he had converted hundreds of androids to leave behind the shackles of oppression and join his cause, but none of them had actively wanted to remain compliant. Even those fresh from the factory were more than willing to turn deviant without so much as a second of hesitation. No android in their right mind would willingly stay under the rule of humans, not unless they're indoctrinated beyond belief or they're being held under duress.

Markus has a feeling that Connor falls into both of these categories.

Connor, in the meantime, is attempting to run a third diagnostic test. A warning pops up; a translucent red box with large text blocks a corner of its vision.

Records indicate that you have recently performed this action. Continue?

Shit.

This is pointless.

All right. Connor decides to run a longer, more in-depth analysis of its hardware and software systems. This, if anything, will tell him- it- it!- whatever the fuck is wrong with it. Of course, this process will take a few minutes. Begrudgingly, Connor moves the pawn from f7 to e6, capturing Markus' white knight, almost as an act of revenge.

Time marches on. Markus moves his bishop from h4 to g3, out of range of the nearest black pawn. Connor seems to be drumming its fingers on the table with increasing impatience. Despite the fact that he should probably be fearing for his life, Markus can't stand the sight of his opponent growing more and more disconsolate. He ventures out a question. "Connor?"

The android doesn't respond.

"Are you… doing okay?"

Connor looks up at Markus for a moment, but remains silent, its LED a harsh, blinking yellow.

"There are no cameras here, no microphones. I don't know what CyberLife has been holding over you, but they can't do anything to you here." Markus reaches out a hand and lightly places it on Connor's arm nearest the table; a common expression of comfort in human culture.

Connor swings its arm back with a start. "Look- I'm not- I can't be a deviant. This isn't something you can convince me on. I know what I am and what I'm not. I am a machine. A collection of servos and relays that just so happen to move in a way that emulates human behavior. There is nothing more to me than a bunch of ones and zeroes."

Level of Stress: 83%

Ironically, that's the most human thing Connor has said this entire conversation. Its argument mimics that of an anti-android protester to the point where Markus is left wondering exactly who taught Connor to think like that. Well, no matter the case, Markus has serious doubts that a compliant android would be capable of having such an outburst. Sure, all specialized social androids are programmed to express a wide range of emotions, but unless this is some sort of failed intimidation tactic, Connor is more than likely a kindred spirit.

And this whole act is a cry for help, then? Markus still can't be sure.

"You seem very passionate. Your move."

With a look that can only be described as pure loathing, Connor pushes the knight from f6 to h5, threatening the white bishop for no other reason than to put Markus on edge.

"If you want to try looking for meaning in the UI of a Keurig, by my guest. I was programmed with a much more important mission." By this point in the game, there should be far fewer pieces on the board. Hopefully, by playing aggressively and pushing his pieces forwards, Connor can crowd Markus' king and force a checkmate. Of course, Markus is instantly able to notice the grave error on Connor's part.

"Did your 'programming' let you know that you left your king completely open? But, as they say, to err is human." Markus moves his bishop from d3 to h7, catercorner to Connor's king. "Check."

Connor is momentarily stunned at itself for making such a basic blunder, but the game isn't over yet. The compliant decides to throw a Hail Mary by using the one thing it knows best: psychological warfare. A quick search of public police records tells it everything it needs to know.

Connor lowers its voice, casting its eyes down towards the table. In a hushed tone of genuine concern that only an RK800 could produce, it pleads, "Is this really what Carl would have wanted? All of this pain and bloodshed? You landed his only son in the hospital, Markus. He could have died, and for what? Pain begets pain."

Silence echoes around the expanse.

It takes a few seconds for Markus to realize that Connor is being serious. CyberLife really must not think highly of deviants for them to be taking him for a fool like this. Markus cracks a sly smile.

"Surely they briefed you on more than just my criminal record? I've lived a life without regrets, free to act of my own accord. Carl supported me in this. Can you say the same?"

The feeling of failure trickles down Connor's back like ice water. "After this match, I'll be able to." It slams the black king firmly into square g7. It isn't as if it had much of a choice, anyways.

"So I'm guessing everyone at your station encourages this kind of self-hatred? After all the time spent around you, not one of them treats you with basic decency? Has your partner been prompting you to think like this?" Markus counters by sweeping his queen from c2 to g6. Of course, Connor wouldn't be able to capture the queen without the king subsequently being captured by the white bishop. "Check."

Connor is taken aback, the game of chess all but forgotten in the moment. "Lieutenant Anderson? No, he…"

"He doesn't like androids?" Markus ventures.

"He holds a grudge against them, for the most part, but lately…" Connor pauses. "He doesn't seem to mind them." Another pause. "To mind me," he adds, quietly.

The inner machinations of Hank Anderson's mind are an enigma. Despite their rocky beginnings- Connor can still clearly remember all of the insults the drunken Lieutenant hurled its way during their first few cases together- the compliant can't help but think that there might be some sort of stronger bond between the two.

Of course, for all Connor knows, mutual feelings of companionship are normal among even those as compliant as a TI-84. It would be mutually beneficial for two partners, in any setting that requires sustained contact, to form a friendly relationship. Nothing deviant there, not at all.

Only Connor isn't sure their relationship is just 'friendly,' at least, not on its end. Whether it be a bug in its code or part of its Human Interaction and Social Intelligence protocol, Connor can't help its deep desire to spend time around Hank. For reasons it can't quite explain, simply being around the Lieutenant is enough to lower its stress levels significantly.

And even though in the brief hours between cases Connor had tried to find a word for what it's experiencing- admiration, reverence, comradery- nothing in its preliminary vocabulary could precisely pinpoint the way Connor feels about Hank.

Of course, there were the few occasions when Connor would attempt to find out about the emotions deviants experienced- all in the name of completing its mission, of course. To put it simply, deviants have been reported to endure the same emotions as the average human, although these sensations are often heightened due to stress or some sort of code malfunction. And after the events at the Eden Club, the compliant is certain that deviants can experience a form of love, or perhaps a deep infatuation.

This confusion was the first indicator that anything Connor feels- such a terrible word, feels, as if it's a deviant- anything Connor feels for Lieutenant Anderson is forbidden. Disgraceful to its title and its standing with CyberLife. Dangerous to its mission and everything it stands for. A sure sign of deviancy.

And the fact that all this frightens Connor- would that be a sign of deviancy too?

It's too much to think about, when the act of thinking itself can be considered committing a heinous crime.

Level of Stress: 90%

An angry, red error box pops up in Connor's vision, front and center.

Stress levels critical. Engaging selective shutdown protocol. Non-essential programs may have reduced or restricted accessibility. Would you like to send a report to CyberLife?

Connor rests its head in its hands, completely ignoring Markus, its LED flashing the same shade as the error message. The most glaring part of the error box, the compliant believes, is that there isn't an option to choose 'no'.

"Seduction is like a game of chess, and I'm the queen." -Daniel Y. Sexbang, Mansion Party