Chapter Six

SSDF Orbital Station 002
Mars orbit

In the hangar bay, Seto was attempting without much success to pass the integration test with the Blue-Eyes White Dragon. They had been at it for almost half an hour and Seto was experiencing the kind of frustration that made him want to put a fist through the nearest wall. Even in the beginning, when he was first learning the ins and outs of the process, it had never taken him so long to achieve gestalt.

On the screens of the test equipment hooked to the mech, two ribbons of blue and white stretched out for each other, twining... and failing, again, to mesh. The ribbons broke apart, shredding. Seto's teeth ground together audibly.

Yearning to feel whole once more, Seto reached for the Dragon with all his skill, all his strength of will. His VR ribbon had never been so coldly blue before. He knew he would succeed. All that he had suffered, all the foolishness that he had endured, it was all about to dissolve in a blaze of gestalt glory. He'd show them all! He was the only true master of the Dragon. These fools had no idea what the Dragon... no, what he was capable of.

In the familiar embrace of his sensor harness, Seto forced his body to relax into the restraints and reached once more for the mind of his mech. The white ribbon that represented the AI's consciousness extended toward his own with what seemed an uncharacteristic hesitancy, as if the machine were reluctant to complete the bond between them. Impatient -- and with an anger that increased with each failure, an anger he had never felt toward his Dragon before -- Seto flung his mind at the machine, snaring the ribbon and seeking to force its cooperation.

The AI retreated from him with an almost tangible sense of alarm.

The sound of pilot frustration filtered down from the closed cockpit to the technician monitoring the test. Captain Kaiba, the tech observed from his position on the steel platform level with the mech's open chest plastron, could curse like a sailor. The white-suited technician frowned at his equipment, then sighed and opened the local comm channel to the mech. "Captain Kaiba?"

An inarticulate snarl was the only response. The tech frowned in concern. "Sir, it works better if you maintain a calm and even --"

"I know that, you fool!"

The tech's frown deepened, and now it held a measure of resentment as well. He had been unlucky enough to draw the short straw -- and the unenviable position of being the one administering the integration test, today. Silently, he swore to get back at that bastard Bacardi for talking him into swapping shifts in the first place. Well, never again… He toggled the mike. "Captain? I really think we should call it a day. Sir."

A deep growl sounded over the comm channel. "What was the last integration level?"

The tech hesitated. Finally, he cleared his throat and reported, "Less than forty percent… and falling, sir. It's getting worse, not better. I really think--"

"When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it!" There was a lengthy pause and the sound of tightly controlled breathing. "I'm going to try, again."

"Yes, sir." The tech wasn't happy about it, but he knew better than to argue. "But, sir... I have to insist that this be the final attempt for today." He rushed on before the captain could protest. "Each failure only lowers the values further. I'm afraid, if it continues too long, it will damage the AI."

That made the captain pause, as the tech had known it would. Kaiba might be a genuine jackass most of the time, but even he did not want to deliberately harm his mech. After a moment, the captain said, in a strained voice that was more growl than speech, "Very well. This will be the final attempt...for today."

"Yes, sir."

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Five minutes later, Seto had reluctantly conceded temporary defeat and allowed himself to be extracted from his mech. As he rode the gantry lift to floor level, he found himself recalling last night's conversation with that insane tech -- Gears. She had claimed his Dragon didn't trust him. In light of his consistent failure to achieve gestalt... Could it be she was right?

As if thinking of the annoying tech was enough to summon her, Gears appeared from behind a pallet stacked with unopened crates of spare parts. Seto groaned. He really didn't need this right now…

"Any luck, Captain Kaiba?" the tech asked, nodding toward his quiescent mech.

Seto lowered his narrowed gaze to the datalink clutched tightly in her hands. With the portable computer she was holding, she had constant access to every open system on the station -- and, more than likely, quite a few of the closed ones as well. No doubt she already knew exactly how his attempts had fared. His tone was as icy as his gaze as he said, "As if you didn't know."

She had the grace not to pretend otherwise. "I did warn you, Captain. If you don't have the trust of your mech's AI, you'll never be able to achieve the gestalt values you need to pass your evaluations and --"

"I am well aware of the requirements of my position," he snapped back, drawing himself up to his full, intimidating height.

"Maybe. But you don't seem to understand the AI component in your mech." She hugged the datalink to her, her gaze fixed somewhere near his left ear, as if she couldn't quite bring herself to meet his laser-bright glare. "Your mech's AI is different from those in the other enhanced mecha. It's tailored specifically to you -- to respond to, and be compatible with, your personality.

"That work was done before you ever tried to gestalt with Blue-Eyes. Since that first time, the AI has been in a constant state of development, growing and adapting each time you gestalt. Trust is an important component in what you share with your mech's AI."

There it was again, he thought. That ridiculous insistence that a machine could 'trust.'

"The AI wants to gestalt with you. It's like a child, and you are the most important being in its universe. It doesn't feel complete unless it's with you in gestalt. But it got badly hurt the last time, and now it's afraid to trust itself to you, again."

Seto rolled his eyes, not even trying to hide his disdain. No matter what, he had never let himself forget that his Dragon was a machine -- something this woman did not seem capable of remembering for very long at a time.

"The remote interface is a way for you to directly reassure the AI by connecting with it in an unthreatening manner."

Seto almost snarled. So it was back to that again, was it? Wouldn't this tiresome woman ever give up?

"Using the remote interface will give you a chance to connect with the AI in a non-threatening environment. You won't be taking it out into space to fight enemy mecha, so it can't get hurt. You wouldn't sense anything, but the AI would receive all of your thoughts and emotional states." She offered him an earnest, if somewhat awkward smile, and continued her impassioned plea. "So, if you activate the remote and deliberately think about how much you admire Blue-Eyes and, most importantly, how sorry you are that Blue-Eyes got hurt, and reassure it that you will do your best to make certain it doesn't get hurt again, I believe the AI will calm down and start to trust you again."

Seto blinked at her. How had she managed to spout all of that tripe in one breath? He made a dismissive gesture and started to turn away. "You're wasting my time with this nonsense."

"But, Captain Kaiba…" She caught at his sleeve, just enough to delay him, then hastily let go, as if the material of his uniform sleeve had burned her fingers. "What could it hurt to try? With Dark Magician out of action, we can't afford for Blue-Eyes to be side-lined, too."

That was a low blow; he could see by her expression that she knew it, too. His frown deepened. "Leave that has-been out of this," he commanded, and on some level was delighted by the flicker of outrage in her eyes. "Yami has nothing to do with my --"

"Failure?"

He glared at her. "-- Difficulties. Which I will resolve on my own."

Leaving the remote device untouched in the palm of her outstretched hand, he turned on his heel and stalked away.

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In one of the cramped offices above the mecha hangar, Duke Devlin fought yet another battle in the never-ending war against paperwork backlog. As usual, he was losing badly.

The large partnership desk he shared with the other occupant of the office took up most of the floor space in the room. What little remained was largely taken over by filing cabinets, overflowing tool bins, and a pair of desk chairs that had both seen better days. Seated at his side of the cluttered desk, Duke was immersed in collating the scattered data in the handful of electronic notepads strewn about the work surface. It was his responsibility to take that data and transform it into a coherent report he could transmit to the Kaiba Corp offices on Mars. From there, it would eventually make it back to headquarters, on Earth, but by that time it would have ceased to be Duke's responsibility.

With a groan, he left off in the middle of a particularly tricky paragraph, and called up a new screen on his work station. He needed a break from routine paperwork, and he decided that he had worked hard enough to deserve one. Besides, the new document held far more interest for him.

He was so immersed in his work that, when the office door hissed open on its track and his officemate stormed into the room, he almost yelped aloud. Heart thudding in his chest, Duke hastily banished the screen before she could see what was on it.

Gears was visibly fuming. If it had been possible to slam the pocket door behind her, she would have. "…He is such an arrogant idiot!"

"Who? General Anderson?" Duke was amazed by how calm and casual he managed to sound. His heart was still pounding so loudly he was astonished she couldn't hear it. "He didn't approve the Remote Interface Devices?"

"What?" Gears looked puzzled that he would even need to ask. "No, the general's a sweetheart. The RID approval's in the bag. It's that idiot pilot that's the problem!"

Duke hid a grin that was one part amusement, one part relief that she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. His secret was safe. Speaking of secrets: It was no secret that Gears thought more of her machines than she did the humans who flew them. "Which 'idiot pilot' is it this time?"

"Captain Kaiba!" She flung herself onto the only other chair in the office, folded her arms over her chest, and scowled at him across the clutter of tools, plans, glossies, intricate electronics, and circuit diagrams piled between them on the shared desk.

Duke grimaced. It was common knowledge that the Blue-Eyes White Dragon's pilot was difficult to work with at the best of times. Sure, Seto was one of the elite Duel Mecha pilots, an "ace in space," but -- in Duke's opinion -- he didn't have to be such an arrogant prick about it. However, given how little contact Gears had with anything not directly related to her mecha, he was a bit surprised that there had been a run-in between the cyberneticist and the temperamental pilot. "What happened?"

Gears sat up, reaching over to toy absently with one corner of a clear plastic cube on Duke's half of the desk. On one side, the cube bore the legend "God doesn't play dice with universe." On the other was the image of a pair of dice coming up snake-eyes. The cube was filled to the brim with the multicolored dice that Duke liked to worry with when working on an especially complex project. Duke watched her, impatient but aware that if he pushed too hard, she would clam up and he would never hear the story. He had only known her for the six months he had been on-station, but he knew her well enough to wait patiently for her to speak.

"According to the tests I ran during the Blue-Eyes White Dragon's repair cycle, the AI trust values are the lowest they've ever been." She picked up a purple die and twirled it between her fingers. Duke doubted she was even aware of what she was doing, given the distant look in her eyes. She frowned as she continued. "I rechecked it, and they haven't risen enough to make a difference. So, I thought I ought to warn the captain about it and…"

She huffed out an exasperated breath, scowling blindly at the die in her hand before dropping it back into the container. "I guess I made a mess of it. Argh! He's such a closed-minded twit! He caught me last night, finishing up the cleaning and polishing of the Blue-Eyes White Dragon."

Cheeks flaming with embarrassment, she shoved herself to her feet, reached for one of the datapads stacked haphazardly beside the dual workstations, and began to pace in the limited space between desk and filing cabinets.

"Anyway, I thought… Well, it looked like the perfect opportunity to get him on board with the RIDs. I mean, any pilot would jump at the chance to improve his relationship with his mech. It's just common sense, right? The better your interface, the easier your gestalt. Why wouldn't he want to use it?"

While he agreed with the sentiment in theory, in practice Duke knew that it was also almost exactly the wrong tack to take with the reserved -- some would say 'repressed' -- Captain Kaiba. "So what did Captain Hard-Ass do?"

"He shot it down!" she wailed. She turned to stare at him and he could see both the frustration and the honest confusion in her eyes. She truly didn't understand why Captain Kaiba had refused the RID. "I just hope his pride doesn't drag my AI down with him when he falls. Not that it matters, but he now thinks I'm the stupidest person on this station. My convincing him to use his remote after this is going to be next to impossible."

He swiveled around in his chair and stared thoughtfully at her. Gears had never explained why she was so convinced the mech AIs in her care were "people" in their own right, apart and separate from what the mech became in gestalt with its pilot, but she always seemed slightly confused when someone didn't believe the way she did. Especially a pilot who actually shared in the AI's mind in gestalt.

"If it comes down to it, General Anderson will just have to order him to use it. That's all," Duke said, reassuringly. "Why didn't you go to Lt. Wheeler or Lt. Valentine, first? With them on board, Captain Kaiba would have had to accept his RID, just to keep up."

"I don't think Captain Kaiba's one to give in to peer pressure," she said, looking suddenly thoughtful herself. "He doesn't seem to care what anyone thinks."

One of Duke's eyebrows shot up in surprise. That was pretty insightful for the socially-challenged Gears. "You sound like you admire that."

"I guess." She frowned, chewing a bit on her lower lip. "The trait, not Captain Kaiba. He's an okay sort when he's actually in gestalt, but he's really annoying when he's just the pilot."

"You can say that, again." Duke decided to change the subject before she could get worked up, again. "So, the general approved the RID program? Any provisos on implementation?"

"Not from the general. Corporate wants the usual useless monitoring and a virtual paper-storm of detailed reports, though." She grinned down at Duke, who gave a theatrical groan, but inwardly admitted he was glad to be the one compiling the reports. He had seen the mess his predecessor had left of the paperwork. Frankly, he could see why General Anderson had demanded that Kaiba Corp replace Leichter. The man really hadn't handled himself very well during the crisis which had followed the attack on Jupiter Station and the near-destruction of the Dark Magician.

"You've gotten more comfortable dealing with the general, haven't you?" Duke asked, kicking back and resting his feet on a tiny area of exposed desk. "I remember when you wanted me to make all the face-to-face reports."

"You're the head of mech-support. It's your job to make reports."

"It's called 'delegation,'" he said archly. "Besides, it's good for you. You need to get out more."

"Yeah, well…" She flushed red with embarrassment. "Remember, if you please, that my background is pure research. And he used to scare me! …Still does, sometimes."

"Hey, with me as your wingman, you've got nothing to fear." Duke tossed her a saucy wink. "Haven't I always got your back?"

"Why, yes," Gears agreed in a sweet tone that instantly put him on his guard. "You are undoubtedly the best wingman for piloting a desk!"

She successfully held back her laughter until Duke growled -- and pelted her with a few expertly tossed dice.

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All Seto wanted was to retreat back to his quarters and tell the world to go hang. Well, no. What he really wanted was to achieve the nearly effortless gestalt that had become his trademark, to become one with his Dragon and forget the chains of duty that bound him so tightly in his human form. Since he could do neither, he found himself at loose ends, lurking on the fringes of the hangar bay and watching with narrowed eyes as the technicians once more swarmed over his mech. And he found himself thinking about what Gears had said. What if she were right, after all? The very idea made his jaw clench. It was insane…

A page over the public address system interrupted his reverie. "Captain Seto Kaiba, report to General Anderson's office. Captain Seto Kaiba, report to General Anderson's office."

With a last look at his Dragon, Seto hurried toward the bank of elevators against the far wall. Whatever it was that Anderson wanted to see him about, Seto had a sinking feeling it would not be good news.