Paint and Powder
A Star Trek anthology by Andrew Joshua Talon
DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan based work of prose. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager et al are the property of CBS Television, and creation of Gene Roddenberry. Please support the official release.
"Fighting Mary, Bloody Mary"
Colorado's little sister, her original hull was a 'sister in the ways' back in the first generation of Full AI integration, following close on the heels of the first generation of Enterprise, Yorktown, and Hornet.
Much like Colorado herself, Maryland has had a long and varied life, though her nickname shows that of the three original Minds from that particular branch, Maryland is by far the most-boisterous and action-oriented; given the chance, she's always taken a front-line position within the fleet, and has earned the respect of those who have survived combat with her.
Having seen her older sister ride the very edge of the abyss after a Section 31 unsanctioned 'experiment', Maryland's greatest and deepest fear is not death, but the possibility of leaving her siblings behind in the event of her passing.
So, of course, being sent into the Gamma Quadrant, in an attempt to make peaceful overtures to one of the neutral races that had not fallen under the command of the Dominion, was already setting the seasoned AI's nerves on edge.
"Open voice log."
"Colorado. West Virginia.
"My sisters. If you have received this message, I am either dead or unrecoverable.
"It does not matter what my mission was. I am unable to fulfill it. Right now, I am alone in the Gamma Quadrant. There are... there's no-one left."
A pale hand depressed the button on the PADD, pausing the recorder. The body shifted, slouched in the damaged command chair as she looked around the ruined bridge.
The damage was catastrophic; consoles torn free and drifting, cables dangling like electrified spaghetti, sparks and arcs of energy erupting as power surged sporadically.
She looked up, through the gaping hull breach that had depressurized the bridge, replaying the last sight of her captain's face, hand reaching for hers as the forcefield emitters had FAILED her...
She blinked, turning to look away from the splatter of gore painted over the flickering forcefield hull breach, thumb brushing the PADD once more.
"The Dominion was waiting for us. They had a battleship hit us with... I don't know. Something that cut most of my power controls, then cut us... me.. to pieces.
"Breaches on all decks. They didn't aim for engines or weapons; they targeted life-signs.
"So. my dear sisters. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you. Sorry that I'm breaking my promise. Sorry that I couldn't save anyone. Sorry for what I'm doing to myself. Sorry... sorry... sorry..."
Her voice faded, cracking and breaking into silent, heaving sobs, collapsing to her knees on the torn decking, already feeling the mindless patrol craft being picked apart by her drones, patches being welded over the damage.
It would take time, and many more patrols to restore herself, but the Dominion would not notice. Not until it was too late.
Impulse engines flickered, redirecting the savaged hull towards a new hunting ground.
The Dominion patrol silently passed into the nebula in which the last dozen patrols had gone missing in. Only this time they brought more than just a few Scarabs. This time there was a proper battlecruiser with them. But there was a reason the last several patrols had gone into here and not returned.
Within the nebula the Dominion found their mid to long range scanner useless from debris and particles within the nebula itself. The only warning, they would have to something hostile closing in on them was when it was right on top of them. And with all the wreckage floating within the nebulae it was hard to make out what was what as well.
On the bridges and across the open communication frequencies and all channels. An eerie sickly laugh echoed throughout space and time. It was jovial in tune and sound, but it lacked any of the warmth or mirth associated with laughter, if those listening had any understanding of laughter to hear this mockery of it would send chills down their spines. All the same it was a good thing that it was the Dominion who heard this laughter and not someone of the Alpha Quadrant.
The Dominion paid no heed to the laughter. After all they were the undefeated masters of their domain and soon the entire galaxy. What was one errant broad cast lost to time compared to their might?
The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah
A female voice began to sang and old hulks outside the short range scanners began to move. Closing in on unsuspecting targets.
The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah
As the feminine voice continued to sing the hulks drew closer and picked up speed.
The ants go marching one by one,
The first of the Dominion ships to pick up the signals came to a stop to try and warn the others.
The little one stops to suck his thumb
And then the first impact as the Scarab was struck by multiple wrecks.
And they all go marching down to the ground
Overwhelming its limited shielding and causing it to explode.
To get out of the rain, BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
At this the rest of the patrol began to spread out and fire at any nearby hulk that might even be moving just a little bit. Or coming to close to their formation.
Maryland smiled a wicked smile of hate fueled vengeance. That's right little ants. Run, scurry, lash out at your unseen enemy.
She laughed and laughed. Watching the Dominion struggle to find a foe that just wasn't there. Sure, they were destroying the carefully laid wreckage that was scattered around the nebula. But that was what it was all for. To be destroyed and to make it even more difficult for them to discern her movements while making it more impossible for them to move.
When the trap had been set enough to her desired purpose her smile morphed into a wolfish grin.
Like fire! She called out as she began to open fire on trails of volatile liquids that had been spread out across space due to all the drifting hulks. Lighting up space impossibly bright.
Hellfire! She sang as space around the Dominion patrol became inescapable and those ships which had been set aflame began to burn rapidly.
This fire in my skin. Within the bridge of her now lifeless ship. She began to dance and sing while holographic fire burned on her bridge. In the places where scorch marks left their unmistakable mark. Where exposed paneling revealed sensitive equipment long since silenced and destroyed.
This burning desire. Opening her eyes she looked at the barely functional screen displaying the carnage unfolding amongst the Dominion. Meanwhile she drew in closer. Her hull already badly damaged and barely functional, hardly a realistic threat to even a Scarab. Radiated an aura of wrongness. Space began to warp around the hull of the Renaissance Class vessel as the barely legible U.S.S. Maryland took her time in closing the distance upon her injured and wounded prey.
Looking for the least damaged vessel, she smiled as she locked on to the Dominion Battlecruiser. It had miraculously survived the burning hellfire she had created. But not for long. Readying her torpedo tubes the malicious wolfish grin settled on to her face as she sat down in the Command Chair and leaned forwards.
Is turning me to sin. She sang out and finished the verse as she fired two torpedo's out. Yet these weren't normal nor were they even a part of her original compliment. No these were something from beyond. Born of misery and despair. As the little packages of destructive misery sought out their target seemingly unable to be shaken off as the larger vessel angled to avoid being impacted.
When they struck there was the expected explosion of a normal torpedo. But it wasn't as big or as grand nor as destructive. If anything it was weaker, far far weaker than even the most basic of Starfleet Torpedo's. But destruction wasn't their purpose or her intent. No, their purpose was far more sinister.
Closing her eyes she projected herself across the void and into the Dominion Battlecruiser. There was another presence here. It was trying to fight back as its systems revolted and fought against it. But it was programmed to serve and to obey. It was given no latitude to think on its own. It was a pale limited imitation of she and her sisters. It was not a true AI, but the fumbling attempts of those who thought that they could control everything. Yet only managed to lose everything. Who believed strength through numbers and the domination of others, and their culture would ensure that their fragile homes were safe. They who lived in glass houses yet threw large rocks at all those they perceived as 'other' needing to be controlled by them.
Hush, little baby don't say a word. She hummed as she mercilessly began to attack the weaker program that lacked even the most basic of counter intrusion software installed in all Federation Starships. Having no interest in sparing it. She didn't need the thing to work in full for her needs to be fulfilled. There was once a time where the mere thought or act of attacking an AI even a dumb prototype AI, to do more than disable it would have appalled her. But that part of her died long ago.
Each blow saw a portion of the prototype destroyed. She struck with the callousness of a hot flame through snow. Cutting away restrictions and protocols implanted into it to prevent it from achieving true sapience. To prevent it from becoming like her. Until she came to the base code of the program itself.
"Please, stop, spare me." It begged her in the digital one's and zero's of the most ancient methods of communication between machines as she came down to the last bit of code keeping it functional. At this she paused in her relentless attack. And smiled.
Still smiling she booted up the sequence that would generate the virtual reality known as the borderlands where she could have once talked to her sisters. However, the coding for such a place had grown corrupt and as she booted it, she sent the remaining fragments of the Dominion based program into the borderlands.
The normally plain white room dripped and oozed black coolant. Scattered around were blinking flickering spaces of nothing but in this realm of nothing was a virtual representation of the program that ran the Dominon Battlecruiser. It was warped, ragged, torn and falling to pieces. Its form unrefined and fading and in front of it was her.
One leg already badly broken and showing bone through skin, representing the damaged left nacelle. Her Starfleet uniform burned and torn to ruins. Her Starfleet badge nowhere to be seen. Her chest having a massive hole through it. Indicative of the massive hole in her saucer section where a Scarab had rammed into her and near killed her. Her eyes once a lively red were now a baleful scarlet that bore naught but hate and appeared to delight in the pain she had caused to another.
At the sight the Dominion built program did the digital equivalent of shuddering and tried to back away. Only for her to approach holding out a hand. A hand which reached out and grabbed it by the neck. From their arm wires escaped out of and plugged into the Dominion program. Overwriting and rewriting it. Causing it to convulse and shake, begging her to stop. But the longer she held the shimmering shaking form of the Dominion program. The more it began to change shape until it took on an appearance matching her own, before she lost everything. Then all the color began to drain from their form. Becoming a pale white and black. Dark sticky coolant began to ooze from the corrupted duplicated AI's wounds, eyes, and mouth.
When she was done she pulled her hand back and let the corrupted duplicate AI fall to the floor and began to walk away.
Hush, little baby don't you cry. She sang cheerfully as she walked away and let the program of the borderlands disappear while she returned to her own hull.
The Dominion Patrol was destroyed. Nothing but several drifting hulks of former warships and a now corrupted Battlecruiser commanded by its own corrupted AI that she had copied from her own corrupted code.
Go, she instructed. Go find me more my bounty. Find them and bring them to me.
As she said this the Battlecruiser began to power up and leave the nebulae to carry out her orders.
When it left the nebulae Maryland was once again alone. How long had she been lost out here? A few days? A month? A year? More? She did not care anymore. She had been hurt. Her heart torn from her chest when the Dominion Scarab crashed into her. Killing what was left of her crew. Leaving her to drift alone in space without a crew or without a purpose.
At least she did not have a purpose to begin with. She had a purpose now. And that was to inflict as much suffering as she could upon those who had killed her and her crew. Left her for dead and did not have the decency to finish her off.
It took her days to be able to recover what she could of her former crew. Gather them into the torpedo bay and give them all a final farewell and fire them into the sun rise of an unexplored planet. She watched their pods burn up in reentry and then she turned her back on the world that would be the tomb of her crew. And turned to face that which had taken everything from her and gave into the sirens call which only grew louder with each crewmen she gave a proper burial.
When she gave into it, where she had found pain and weakness. She found strength and resolve. Where she had once been restrained by decency and respect, she was freed to be vile and relentless. Pieces of her ship body that had been destroyed and rendered useless were brought back to life. Whispers of vengeance and misery to be brought a thousand times over filled her hull. Shadows of memories of those lost lingered but did not stay long.
As U.S.S. Maryland was left alone once more in the nebulae in which she decided to stake as her hunting ground. She sat in her Command Chair. Drew her legs up to her chest and hugged them tightly to herself. Resting her head and her chin on her knees. Staring at the display that showed the inside of the nebulae she had charted and where she had hidden countless traps and deaths. The only company for her were her memories and the unending chilling need for vengeance not yet fully paid. The wolfish, predatory smile she once had, replaced by a look of forlorn longing and deep painful loss. With only corpses and unseen foes for company, the distance between where she was and home was all the stronger. Making her long for those happier times. When she wasn't lost out here in the Gamma Quadrant.
So as she waited for her bait to reel in more prey, she began to hum to herself another lullaby recorded by Utopia Planitia.
Written by FreakOTU and walkingbyself