I know everybody wants more interaction between Dib and Vic, and I promise there will be, but this chapter is a little slim on that. I blame myself.
Still, I hope you all enjoy.
Now on with the show.
"Invade and encompass to judge and dissect. Witness and persecute to serve and protect. To serve, and protect to serve. To serve, and protect to serve. Watchful and aware, constrain every movement. Admit the consequences, freedom's an illusion. Where is security governed through scrutiny? Your privacy denied, organized and confined! No place to hide! No place to hide! There is no place to hide, plugged in your mind, conformed design. To concede your rights! Concede your mind! Surrender to authority. All must abide and all must adhere. Future oppression becoming more clear. This is a warning so you must take heed. This coming vision is reality." -Fear Factory, Securitron (Police State 2000)
I should have known better.
I suppose my lack of foresight could be blamed on my lack of familiarity with the equipment involved... I mean, in my defense, the Planet Cleanser class Dreadnought is OLD. The last one had been decommissioned several decades ago... before I was smeeted, actually. I have since had some time to look into why the Dreadnoughts were abandoned, and it turns out that advancements in power core technology coupled with a twitchy AI brain that had been hardwired into each controller core rather than simply accessed through a removable AI brain module made the upgrades required to get the chassis up to date non-cost efficient. The old Dreadnoughts were kept around as rear echelon support vessels and were commonly used in conquered slave suppression duties for a few more years, but when several of the Dreadnoughts suffered catastrophic failures which, coupled with a lack of redundancy in their power network, resulted in the loss of the entire ships along with their full crew compliment, the entire line was dissassembled and used for repairs.
How does this relate to what happened? Well... bear in mind that one of the Dreadnought's last few duties had been slave suppression, which meant that this vessel had seen action at Irken Slave Planets where the local population of slaves had become unruly. One of the requirements that would have had to have been fulfilled in the course of those duties was that the ships would have had to transport recalcitrant slaves to prision mining planets. This meant that it needed internal defenses to prevent the possibility of a slave rebellion which could result in, however unlikely, a group of slaves taking control of an admittedly outdated, though still mighty Irken vessel.
Hence, the class 5 laser turret that was currently poised to obliterate my human from existence.
"3..."
Shit...
"Dib! Get down!"
"2..."
I am sooooo dead.
Should have seen something like this coming. I don't blame Vic... I mean, we were crazy just thinking we could get this thing to work, right? How were either of us to know some crazy defense mechanism would still be active after all this time?
I let go of Vic and she drops to the ground, landing lightly on her feet with the aid of her spider leg things. I do the only thing I can think of that might keep me alive.
"1... Prepare for death, unauthorized intruder lifeform."
I've noticed a queer trait in myself when I am exposed to moments of extreme duress... of tension and fear. I don't know if this is a common trait in humanity, if everybody has been through this at one time or another... as discussed ad nausium throughout this account I have no one to compare notes with. However, at moments like this, time seems to slow down to an almost unbearable crawl, while my thoughts rocket and ricohette around my brain at a sickening, breakneck pace. I can hear my heartbeat thud-thud-thudding in my skull.
Thud. I spin quickly and dive forward, towards the cannon that tracks my every movement.
Thud. The tip of the cannon lights up suddenly and I juke left, out of my spin.
Thud. The sharp scent of ozone floods my nostrils and an almost unbearable heat sears my side as a beam of coherant light scorches the utilitarian deck plating beneath me.
Thud. I slam skull first into the bulkhead directly under the cannon, and sit there blinking, off balanced and stunned from the agonizing pain that hammers through my head.
I glance up, fearfully. The cannon appears to be straining to orient on me, but seems unable to.
-10.10.00- System reboot. System diagnostics initiated. AI Routines Self Check... Complete. Main Power Systems- Complete. Secondary Power Systems- Complete. Life Support- Complete. Gravetic control- Complete. Kinetic Dampner System- Complete. Propulsion- Complete. Navigation- Complete. Weapons Systems- Complete. Data Archives- Complete. Smeet Initialization Chamber- Complete. Internal Security Systems- Complete.
-10.10.45- System scan complete. Report as follows. AI Routines- Online-Nominal.Main Power Systems- Online-error-operation at 135 nominal. Value discarded, not likely to cause systems failure. Measurement Instrumentation manual recalibration required. Repair notice posted in Maintenance Control, priority green. Status-Pending.Secondary Power Systems- Online-error- operation at 45 nominal. Rerouting Main Power Systems to compensate power grid functions, Kinetic Battery recharging.Life Support- Online-error-multiple hull breaches detected. Sealing off areas... completed. Repair notice posted in Maintenance Control, priority Red. Status- Pending.Gravetic Control- Offline-Nominal. Current gravity at x1.1 standard, activation of Gravetic Systems not required.Kinetic Dampner System- Online-Nominal.Propulsion- Offline-error-Propulsion systems current operation level 20. Dimensional Shunt Cascade Drive- Inoperative. Primary engines inoperative. Secondary engines inoperative. Primary Manuevering Thrusters inoperative. Secondary Manuevering Thrusters operational. Calibration date expired. Repair notices posted in Maintenance Control, priority Red. Status- Pending.Navigation- Online-Nominal.Weapons Systems- Online-Nominal. Safety systems lock operational, discharge of main battery in current proximity to astral body would result in complete destruction of vessel.Data Archives-Online-error-Current date according to temporal monitor is 83.03.73. Control Brain Archive current accuracy unknown. Update required. Searching for Control signal. Control signal not found. Searching for receive signal. 1 of 1 receive signals found. Negotiating uplink... uplink negotiated... source Vic.Pak.MD.24601-11B. Downloading update.Smeet Initialization Chamber- Online-5,700 viable embryos located-1,503 smeets defective/expired. Purging and recycling defective embryos.Internal Security Systems- Online-error-sensor coverage 77. Internal defensive measures- 67 nominal. Defense scan initiated.
WARNING. WARNING. UNAUTHORIZED LIFEFORM LOCATED IN CONTROL CENTRAL.
-83.03.73-Attack protocols initiated, system operating at 67 nominal. Target scan inconclusive, does not match Slave species archival data, no known vital areas located on target. Adjusting power output to maximum setting to insure complete target obliteration.-
-83.03.73-Target movements erratic, matching patterns against all known target behaviors. No matching patterns found. Beginning target archive collection, current level of accuracy, 25 - 10.-
-83.03.74- Target outside of current turret arc. Attempts to activate all bridge turrets failed. Initiating Security Drone response.
"Computer. S-Stop it! End attack protocol!"
-83.03.74- Irken Voice pattern recognized. Matching to current crew compliment. No match located. Identifying current crew status. Scanning. Crew not located. Tallest Subcommander not located. Error. Current operational status with 0 crew capacity is 0.00.
-83.03.74- Interactive query required. Initializing AI avatar... loading data... done. Shipwide Interactive Machine Avatar (SIMA).
"ZZRRTZZ WhO ArE yOu?"
I turned around suddenly, startled at the strangely modulated voice, distorted from age battered speakers. The speaker in question appeared on the monitor, a translucent, barely recognizable representation of an Irken female with circuitry scattered in random patches across her suspicious face. She narrowed one eye disdainfully and flicked her gaze towards Dib, who appeared to be trying to clear the cobwebs from his skull. I winced in sympathy, while his dive had temporarily saved his life, it couldn't have been very pleasant.
I made a mental note to check him for a concussion when he was not busy fighting for his life.
"Designation 24601-11B, Medical Drone V-Vic." I stammered. My situation was not much better... Medical Drones are allowed on the bridge only in situations of extreme emergency. The only reason the security system hadn't attempted to warn me off yet was probably because removing an unauthorized life form was a higher priority.
The image on the screen turned its baleful gaze towards me, the expression no more congenial.
"MeDicaL DrOnE? ImPoSSible... whErE iS sUBcoMmAndeR TaL?" At the mention of the Subcommander's name the image intensified, losing some of it's hardness... I blinked. What in the...
"Dead... they're all dead, you crazy bitch! Now shut off!" Dib rubbed his head, probably a bit annoyed and undoubtedly fearful for his life. He glared back at the screen balefully.
"SiLENce fiLTHy alIEn scUM! YoUR LiEs wiLL oNlY eXaCERbATE YoUR inEVitABlE puNIShmENT!" The image snarled, her representational head suddenly three times bigger than her body. Then it looked confused.
"JUst aS SoOn As I cAN FiND YoU!"
"Dib!" I hissed. "You're not helping!"
"She tried to shoot me!"
"That's her FUNCTION... you can't blame it for trying to do it's job."
"Oh yes I can! WATCH me!"
"MeDIcal DroNE ViC... wHY arE yOu NoT aTTemPTing tO appReHENde ThE InTRUder!"
I went silent... then looked at Dib quietly, desperately. What was I going to do?
"Um.. I'll... get RIGHT on that..."
I inched towards Dib, under the watchful barrel of the laser turret. Once I had moved past it's limited range of movement it went into scan mode, the image on the screen blinked, then looked around confusedly.
"MeDIcal DRonE ViC? WheRE hAve yoU GonE? You are NoT iN rAnge oF aNy oF My SenSoRs."
I looked at Dib, confused... he looked up at the turret thoughtfully, then back at me. "What is... UP with this thing?"
I blinked. "It's over eighty years old... there are bound to be a few-"
"SuBcoMMAnDEr TaL? TallEST MiHo? WHere aRe you? AnyONE? sniff WAAHHH I pROmise I'lL be GooD I DiDn't MEan tO jeTTIson fiFty tOns of SUpplIEs! TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL! I'll bE goOD! It'S jusT I lOve yoU SOOO MuCH! It'S TaLLeSt MiHO... I kNow I ShoUldn't BuT shE maKes mE sO ANGRy! I wON't aNtaGoNIze the TalleST anyMOre, I PROMisE!"
I winced. "Errors in her programming. This particular model of Dreadnought was decomissioned for several problems, most notably, an... eccentricity-"
"HELLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOoooO? ThiS iSN't fUNNy anYMoRe!"
"In it's AI brain."
Dib blinked, then looked at me disbelievingly. "You mean the AI is bug fuck crazy?"
I nodded miserably.
"So... why don't we just remove it?"
I sighed. "We cannot... it is hardwired into the system. Remove it and you lose everything. It would be like removing the brain and central nervous system of the ship."
He blinked his eyes blandly. "I don't see how this is much of an improvement. I'm starting to miss sweating my ass off."
I sighed. "Dib, what happens when you remove the central nervous system and brain from a person?"
He blinked. "They die?"
"Before that."
"Their breathing stops... heart... oh." He winced. "You mean..."
"Safety precaution to prevent aliens from capturing a ship and reverse engineering our technology. Remove the AI brain, the safety interlocks on the power core shut off. No evidence."
"This is NUTS!"
I sighed. "I am sorry." I wrapped my arms around myself.
He leaned against the wall and sighed. "It's not your fault, Vic. You couldn't have forseen this." He put a hand on my shoulder and I felt warm inside... despite this, I shivered. He took this for discomfort and left his hand drop to his side. He crossed his arms and looked thoughtful.
"Vic..."
"Yes?"
"Do you have anything like a connection port... an interface of some sort?"
I blinked. "Any major piece of equipment has the capability to interface with an Irken Pak... why?"
"What about a manual interface... like a keyboard or something?"
I blinked again. "Keyboard? I suppose... in some instances... a security lockdown or transmitter failure... there is an emergency interface but I've never seen it used... what does this..."
Dib grinned slowly... evilly. Despite myself, I shivered again.
"Vic... has the Irken race ever heard of hacking?"
"Um... removing pieces of something with a sharp implement?"
His grin widened. "That's what I thought." He looked excited. "Vic, I need that interface keyboard, an irken power pack, and some sort of connection cable. Can you find that stuff?"
I blinked. "Yes... but-"
"Find it... quick. I have an idea."
I blinked confusedly, but went to do as he asked.
I had learned to trust him...
Man, it's been a while.
It might surprise some of you to know that I was what you might consider, in my ill-spent, pernicious youth, what you might call a hacker.
"No", I can imagine you gasp to yourself. "Our Dib? Do something outside the law to obtain information that others seek to hide from him? Never! Base lies and accusations FOUL!"
Well, it's true. Of course the legality of my actions are largely a moot point now, since I am sans planet, but I digress.
I wasn't a malicious sort with it, I never harmed more than a security program or three, confound a bit of ICE here or there. I just wanted to KNOW, not, you know, hurt anybodies' livelihood. Script kiddies and phishers made me sick... preying on ignorance, but I was not above (I hear the gasp again) the occasional illegal wire tap (is it really illegal when you tap a fake phone in a REALLY illegal alien's home?) or cracked program or stolen personal data file. Of course I'd had no time to practice my "skillz" after... you know, but bear in mind that the concept of manipulating or even SEEKING OUT data in an Irken system is so outside the Irken paradigm I don't think any of them even considered the possiblity it might even OCCUR, let alone guard against it. Humankind had come a long way from a man able to make free long phone calls via a tape recorder and series of hijacked tones when it was destroyed, and as advanced as the Irken race is, it's childish when it comes to keeping information safe and private. Why? Irkens have no private lives! They have secrets but no means to obtain them without permission. They don't even try, because if they aren't supposed to know about it, they aren't even interested in it enough to seek it out.
Which is why Vic found it so difficult to learn how to shoot, and why it was so remarkable that she was even able to question WHY she couldn't learn.
Again, I apologize, as I am getting off subject, we were at the hacking stage. I won't bore you with details that would only interest a true technophile, but suffice to say, I was in like Flynn. I might be rusty, but considering the Fisher Price level of countermeasure efficiency I was tracking circles around their system before they even really figured out what hit them.
By then of course, it was far too late. I was even given emergency protocols (granting full system access) because the keyboard is only supposed to be used in an emergency.
Heh... lucky me.
Now bear in mind that everything was in Irken, and I'm still new at it, so I had Vic help me with it a bit. For her part she found what I was doing both fascinating and oddly repulsive, and from her prespective, I suppose it might be understandable.
I'll explain. Irkens know that they are being manipulated from the day they're... hatched. It's just kinda given as rote when everything you need to know is jammed into your skull a few minutes after birth, you know? Information changes as their Tallest dictate it, and literally what was true yesterday might be false tomorrow, and worse, for the Irkens will have always been so. With data so mutable and no physical records to compare notes with, it's no wonder most of the Irken race has NO IDEA what's going on, why they are the way they are. This was going to become a problem in our own society before too long, with physical books becoming less and less popular. I seem to recall stories about Valentine's Day not involving meat in any way at one point, but before we could go too far into the George Orwellian drama of double think, the whole kit and caboodle was obliterated like a disk too close to a magnet anyway, so the point is moot.
That being said, seeing an alien tamper with the holiest of holies, the Irken database, even just a SHIPS database, must have been like watching a monkey do delicate brain surgery. You half expect the thing to drop the scalpel and start flinging poo, because that's what monkeys DO. Give Vic some credit, she didn't question me at all.
Which is good, because I only vaguely knew what I was doing...
"Alright! I'm about done. I think I've got this thing under control."
I blinked and tried not to look queasy. The ease with which Dib is able to "hack" into our informational systems is frightening. It took me a few minutes to understand what it was he was attempting to do, but once he explained it to me, the concept was so laughably simple it shocked me that no Irken had ever attempted it.
I suppose... we just aren't built to think that way. Dib, being human, is hardwired to think in a certain way, just as I am hardwired...
A sudden slumping sense of depression fills me. So different. We do not even think in the same way. I am certain these... feelings I have for him are not normal for an Irken, but what do such feelings mean to a human? What we have right now is comfortable, safe... it works. If I tell him of these strange emotions, how would he react?
Would he reject them? Meet them with derision... scorn? Or perhaps more frightening...
Would he return them?
"Vic? What's up? You're being really quiet back there."
"I-I was just thinking, Dib."
He removed his glasses for a moment and wiped them on his pants leg. I took this opportunity to look at him. He is... different, but not hideous as I had once thought. Once one gets past the shocking differences in human physiology, there is strength... power in those limbs, in the lines of his face and set of his mouth. His face is very expressive, far more so than an Irken face, it shifts and moves with his moods in a million nuances that I could not possibly begin to translate.
He took my comment as an expression of doubt and sought to comfort me. He's right, but for the wrong reason.
"It's gonna be alright..." He frowned. "It's an odd system, but I think I've figured out how to fool it. Can't shut it off because it's so intrinsically a part of the ship's operations that the ship can't operate without it. I also can't register myself as a crew member because it identifies personnel through their Pak, and I don't have one. What I'm going to do is insert your identification into the database as ship's crew. Then the security system will defer to you, and you can register me as a "slave". That'll fool the computer long enough for us to figure out what to do next."
I sigh and hug myself with my arms. It disturbs me sometimes when the psychological differences between us rear their ugly heads. We do not have a word for what Dib is doing, this... "hacking". It is startlingly simple for Dib to make changes to something that should have been inviolate. I... it should disturb me more than it does.
What disturbs me more is the concept of anything as free and independant as Dib being considered a slave... my slave.
Even in name.
I fear that I am not a very good Irken. Have I ever been, really?
"Got it! Alright, you should be in the system now, Vic. Walk out of the sensor's blind spot and see if that buggy AI recognizes you."
I stand up and walk carefully out into the sensor coverage. The AI immediately orients in my direction and beams happily.
"MeDiCaL DrOnE ViC! GoOD tImIng! I-"
It freezes, the image oscillating rapidly. "OrDeR ConFiRMeD... MediCAL DrOnE ViC 24601-11B reGiStereD cuRRenT crEW cOmPLement. StAND bY."
I blink. Stand by... for what?
-83.03.79- Emergency protocol procedures in effect. Accepting input... done. Vic.Pak.MD.24601-11B registered as crew, position no data entered. Scanning... 1 of 1 crew located.
-ERROR-
83.03.79- Logical error detected. Current chain of command includes no Subcommander or Tallest. Dreadnought cannot be in service without Tallest compliment. Dreadnought is in service.
Processing...
-83.03.80- Conclusion. Vic.Pak.MD.24601-11B ID tag is in error. Upgrading Vic.Pak.MD.24601-11B to Victoria.Pak.TAL.24601-11B. Caution: target does not meet Tallest minimum parameters. Initiating Miyuki Protocol.
Uploading.
-83.03.80- ID tag reinitialized... logical error corrected.
-
Heh... still got it. The computer freezes for a moment, probably just reinitializing it's interaction protocols or something, and Vic looks back at me in slight confusion. I grin back at her confidently.
Then several things happen at once.
As usual, when I analyze what happened, I realize that I am too god damn smart for my own good.
The door opens and this... well I suppose the best way to describe it would be a cross between a metal gorilla and a laser cannon comes lumbering in, dragging one ruined leg behind it in a hiss of sparks. It's twin, sharply angled glowing red eyes alight on me and it emits something that sounds somewhere in the vicinity of a growl with alot of speaker feedback mixed in.
I blink at it in sudden confusion, then gasp.
"Fuck... ME!"
It proceeds to try to do just that.
Well, figuratively speaking of course.
Just as the laser cannon that is it's left arm begins to spit hot death at me, I charge in the only direction I can. Right at it. The turret above me catches sight of me and starts spitting red death at me from behind.
This sucks.
Meanwhile Vic seems to be in a state of shock. Not that I blame her. All this stuff is happening in a couple of seconds, and it's an awful lot of chaos to pop up in such a short amount of time. While she goggles at what's going on, I try slipping right through Magilla's big metal legs, intent upon getting the fuck outta dodge.
Unfortunately, it doesn't work out quite that well.
Actually, it doesn't work at all.
It's other arm is this big metal claw, and this reaches down and grabs a hold of my HAIR of all things, then lifts me up off the ground up a few feet, then slams me to my knees. While this brings me out of the line of fire from the turret, it HURTS like a son of a bitch, and effectively traps my ass in place. Out of the corner of my eye I can see the turret as it angles its laser to get a perfect shot on my head.
I close my eyes. Fuck... fuck fuck-
"Stop! Computer stop this!"
Fuck fuck fuck.
A crackling sound... I still have my eyes closed, because I don't want to see the laser cannon coming to life.
"ORdEr AckNowlEdged. PleASE cLaRifY... sTOp wHAt?"
"Um... stop... acting that lifeform, right this instant. He's... he's MINE." Anger... REAL anger in her voice, I sneak a glance at her. It's not hard, because she has somehow put herself between me and the laser turret. Her arms are spread.
"OwNErShIp oF... FILTHYYYY alIeN LiFeForM aCknoWledgED, TalLESt ViCTORIa."
"What!"
I blink. "What?" I say.
She looks at me, confusion and panic on her face. "Dib, what did you..." She closes her eyes suddenly and collapses to the ground, convulsing."
"VIC!" I shout, struggling with the metal claw tangled in my hair. "VIC WHAT'S WRONG! ANSWER ME, LET ME GO YOU FUCKING BAG OF RUSTY-"
"SILENCE, SLAVE!" The voice is so loud that my ear drums ring for a few moments afterward. The security drone that has me jerks to life, stepping over the prone, trembling body of my... of my friend and pressing my face up near the monitor.
An artificial Irken glares at me. "YoU dON't lOoK liKE mUcH, AliEn. I dOn'T knOW wHy thE TAlleST tOlerAteS yOuR pREsencE, bUt iT Is NoT mY plACe tO qUEsTion."
I glare back.
"NevER tHe LEss, yoU WIll LearN rEsPect, WhiLE yOu aRe a sLavE In mE!"
I blink. That was... a really odd sentence.
"SlAvE CUrFeW iS PaSt, AlIEN. YoU wiLL bE TaKEn bAcK tO yoUR qUArtErs nOw... AnD TheN assIgNed YouR pUnIShment fOr yOuR DisrEspEct."
"What did you do to Vic, you crazy metal bitch!"
She scowls deeply and narrows her eyes at me. "YouR cOnCerN fOr YouR TallESt iS AdMirAble, eVen iF youR AttiTuDe iS NoT. StiLL, iT is nO CoNcerN oF yOurs. BegOnE!"
The drone proceeds to drag me, kicking and cursing, through the bowels of the ship. All of my attempts to free myself, grabbing hold of any obstruction I can, kicking the damn thing until my leg is sore... it doesn't get me anything but bruises and cuts.
Finally it dumps me in a small room that smells of old death. I glance around the spartan room with dismay, not recognizing it.
I look to the left and see a mummified corpse I don't recognize at all, dark stains all over the wall near its ragged, skeletal fingers. I get the impression it was trapped here when the ship crashed and tried to claw its way out like an animal.
I shudder.
The drone backs out of the room, the door shuts, and I am alone, in the dark, with a corpse.
I can hear my own heartbeat. I stand up and feel around the room for a switch, a door, something... anything.
Nothing.
Vic... are you alright out there? What happened to you? What's going on?
Really smart, Dib. Great... fucking job.
I haven't cried in a long time, and I'm not going to start now, goddamn it.
A speaker crackles above me. It doesn't give me time to fight the tears.
"PuNIShmeNT cYCleS BegInnINg. ReMEmBEr... SUfferINg iS PeRfeCtIOn oF SErVICE. FoR thE EmpIRE!"
The walls pulse red.
I fall down.
And I SCREAM.
-