A/N – ok, I know I said I was going to post a humor fic before I posted an update to this. Thing is, I lied. Mea Culpa. It's just that chapters for this fic come to me whole, and chapters for the other one come to me in halves. I have 5 half chapters for that one, but this chapter came all at once. What's up with that? So I think I'll wait until that one is wholly complete before posting, but keep updating this one whenever I manage to wrench a chapter from my brain.
Also, I've noticed that many authors have beta readers. I don't, so any and all errors are completely mine. My, this is embarrassing, umm, if anyone has spare time and would like to beta my fics feel free to email me. You can even specify a preference for humor or angst. I'm not all that prolific so there wouldn't be too much wordage involved. Ok, on to the fic!
Dylan was encouraged; the environment seemed less chaotic and Rommie herself was much more substantial. "Hello Rommie." The information Harper had retrieved from Andromeda's main database appeared to be helping.
"Hello Captain. How may I help you?"
Then again, maybe he was wrong about Rommie being better. Trying to seem casual he took a closer look at her. Her lack of emotion, posture, her entire attitude seemed to be a copy of the main AI's. "I don't need anything Rommie. I just wanted to see how you are doing. I heard Harper was trying some new updates. Obviously they are having an effect. How do you feel about them?" He grinned widely, trying to engage her sense of humor. "Are they an improvement or a Harper patented pain-in-the-behind?"
"Actually Captain he has not made any substantive changes in many months. The only updates Harper has made recently are data dumps, mostly audio and visual records dating from the time you were pulled from the black hole until now. I have expressed a desire to process and integrate the information before any further attempts were made to restore my personality matrix."
Dylan's grin slid from his face. Hecould understand why she had asked for time; she wanted to have an idea about who she was before Harper continued his attempts to restore who she was. He remembered reading somewhere that many long-term amnesiacs were afraid of regaining their memories, afraid that they wouldn't like who they had been or that they wouldn't be able to meet expectations. In a way Rommie and Trance had a lot in common. But that still didn't explain why she was acting like she was. "Rommie, you're more than just a personality matrix. You're a living, sentient being. Your body made need repairs or upgrades but the real you needs healing and help and counsel. Don't start thinking of yourself as a machine, not now. We care about you Rommie and we'll help you find your way back to us."
Rommie blinked once. "Thank you Captain. I appreciate your concern. I am looking forward to being fully funct…fully myself again."
Rommie gave Dylan no indication that she wished to continue the conversation any further. The captain decided he needed to time to process new information himself. "All right Rommie, we'll leave it there for now, but I'll be back soon to talk more about this. It won't be much longer before you're back on the Andromeda with me where you belong." Dylan exited the VR matrix and stared at the floor of the lab, still holding the VR goggles. So many thoughts running through his head, about Rommie and all the other members of his crew. He lifted his head, stood up straighter, and walked towards the door. He could fix everything and he would. Everything could be put back like it was before. Everything would be put back the way it was before.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
She stood there staring at the place where her captain had been a nanosecond before. Nine different kinds of pain threatened to tear her apart. Thoughts she couldn't stop flashed through her mind on top of one another, relentlessly punishing her for almost every choice she had ever made.
"I don't need anything Rommie." He doesn't need me. They never really did. He just came out of a sense of duty, he always was a nearly perfect High Guard officer. I was useful sometimes, but I was never vital. They're getting along just fine without me. Doyle is an adequate replacement for the times when they need a non-organic body.
Dylan. I use to call him Dylan, by his request. I want to call him Dylan, but how many times did such inappropriate closeness nearly bring harm to him? To them all. How could I ever have allowed myself to cross the line from acting human to believing myself equal to humans? That last upload included all the regulations involving AI's and avatars. Punishment for physical involvement with crew – disassembly, punishment for disobeying orders – erasure, punishment for attempting to leave service – severing from main AI and removal of all records (memories, organics would call them memories, ). Lists of punishments. No lists of rights. ("It won't be much longer before you're back on the Andromeda with me where you belong.")
Pax Magellanic (Maggie, I wish you were here, I wish any of my sisters were here) loved her captain, and she ended up insane. But she didn't know she was insane. Am I insane?
Harper made Doyle. Has even he given up on me? He used to say he loved me. He hasn't said that in a very long time. Why do I keep thinking about love! All the data from Andromeda says I have no right to think about love. Everytime I have tried to love it has brought me in direct conflict with by my basic imperatives (Oh Gabriel, I still miss you. I'm sorry I had to kill you.)
+Warning command line conflict – Warning emergency shutdown immanent – Conflict resolution imperative – Warning shutdown immanent+
Well, there it is. I am nothing more than a machine. Not even in control of my own 'imperatives'. Harper must have programmed in safeguards the last time I reacted emotionally. No, my only hope of being useful (Survival, I still want to survive, despite it all I still want to live! Please!) is to become a corporeal embodiment of Andromeda in the fullest sense. I must stop trying to emulate humans, and become what I really am, a machine designed to aid my ship's crew in any way they deem fit.
+Shutdown aborted+
What more confirmation could I need? I must give up all my foolish ambitions. Dylan, no, Captain Hunt, and all the others might have forgiven my previous errors, but I cannot afford to repeat them. Nothing must go wrong this time. I am ready. The next time Harper returns I will tell him I am ready to be uploaded into the body. I will give him no reason to shut me down and return me to this place (This hell, three years here, I can't stay in this hell anymore, I promise I'll be good, don't make me go back, please Harper!). I will become what I was meant to be. Nothing more.
A/N: just me again – just wanted to say, I promise this is as depressed as Rommie gets. I'll probably make her get better, though a twisted part of me wants to write a fic where there is no happy ending. This could be it. evil grin> Seriously though, if you have strong opinions about whether or not this should have a 'happy' ending (eventually) lemme know.
