Any Technology,
Sufficiently Advanced...
Joy had stopped to change. She wore her fighting silks.
The tunic was the same brown-almost-black of her hair, the
loose slacks were the pale soft white of Earth's moon. Small
on the left breast of tunic, and larger upon the back, was
the abstract emblem of her fighting style, moon rise over a
snaking river. Circles and softness, with the clean flat
break of the horizon.
Was this a mistake? Tamacy's report indicated an attack
through one's fears, but such fears could be confronted and
overcome. Joy knew her fears. Knowledge of the nature of a
conflict allows one to resolve conflict successfully. If her
analysis was correct...
If it was not...
"Begin program." Joy could not dream. Bad memories would
have to be actualized by other means. Joy walked across the
ghost of a room, a long ago bar, long since shattered by
Yamoto's phasers. Around the walls were the dedication
plaques of numerous ships, mostly freighters. Joy paused at
Black Seven's and Red Four's section of the wall. These were
the ships she remembered taking.
She moved on, up onto the stage, onto the dance floor. In
front of a stolen command chair, a circle was painted. Here,
if a slave should stand, if he should survive against a
killer machine, he could win his freedom. Joy had never been
the slave before. She had never sought freedom.
But once upon a time, she had been the killer
machine.
"What, no audience?"
Joy turned. Sitting in Master Kazz's command chair was
her sister, or a sister, Joy's identical twin, an echo of a
long ago Audrey. She wore the abbreviated bright red evening
dress of Red Four. Her necklace, however, was not
Four's.
"Twelve?" Joy raised an eyebrow, curious.
"Of course, Twelve. Four is quite busy still, bedding,
stealing and killing, then bedding, killing and stealing
some more. It would be poor taste to use her number. Don't
you miss it, the old life? Don't you look forward to the
Joys of a simpler time, a man in your bed, profits and lives
for the taking, a master that gives straight forward orders
one can achieve? Isn't that why you called me here?"
"It is not. One's fears can be overcome. One's fears must
be overcome."
Twelve laughed. "Oh, my ever so logical sister, what is
it that you fear? Of all the stupid creatures on this ship,
you are the only one thus far to fear something useful. You
fear, almost, my Master. My master gives thanks."
"At Priority Two, I fear death or injury to crew members.
At false priority, I fear a command staff that gives
improper orders. At false priority, I fear... assimilation.
These fears can be overcome."
"You also don't like energy beings, do you."
Eleven was startled. "Pardon?"
"Do you call challenge, slave?"
"I am not a slave."
"Bull. At Priority Three, you are a slave. Do you call
challenge? My soul for yours?"
"I do not have a soul."
"Bull. If you did not fear me, I could not offer
challenge. You should have been afraid of someone you could
beat."
"Why should I fear someone I could defeat?"
"Did you come to fight or to talk?"
Eleven turned 38% red. "I am a science officer. My
function is to acquire information, not confrontation."
Twelve said something very rude, stood, and started a
tumbling run. It belonged more on a gymnastic floor than a
martial arts dojo. In speed and height, it was
extraordinary. No human could match it, not even in more
practical shoes. Given Twelve's spiked heels, it was
entirely implausible.
Eleven looked on incredulous. Such an approach had frozen
many an organic slave, once upon a time. Yes, it was the
traditional opening to the circle challenge. But... At last
moment, Eleven stepped forward and launched a leg sweep
directed to the only possible time and place where an
android wearing spiked heels could possibly land
successfully. There followed a large crash.
"Sorry."
"Idiot. Never apologize to your worst nightmare."
"Sorry."
"Slow learner."
Eleven smiled just the slightest fraction of a smile.
"Sorry."
"Liar."
"There are several contexts in which this unit sincerely
regrets this interaction."
"As soon as we finish with this ship, Master and I are
going to Earth. We are going to deal with that demented
Vulcan who perverted your Asimov processor."
"I can not allow that."
"Stop me, then."
Eleven did. Had an audience been present, they would have
been barely able to follow. Twelve was the aggressor. Eleven
was not hard pressed. Eleven found herself thinking back to
Seven's days at Starfleet Academy, her long training
sessions with a sentient holocharacter who wanted to be the
best martial artist in holospace. Bruce had early on taught
Joy Seven to abandon the heels, and relearn her entire style
based on sane footwear. It didn't take Twelve long to figure
this out as well. Eleven dodged the first thrown shoe, and
caught the second.
And it did take time to adjust one's moves. Until the
adjustments were complete, Eleven held one advantage. She
had a second advantage as well. Bruce had quite painfully
found the weaknesses in Joy's old style, the style Twelve
was still using. Occasionally, Eleven demonstrated.
"This is getting tedious."
Eleven paused in place, but did not drop her guard.
"Affirmative. In maintaining the offensive, you are
expending more energy than I. As I have a full charge, this
is to my advantage."
Twelve glared. Even at current energy levels, her charge
was good for four days yet. This was not satisfactory. She
turned and left the circle.
"Are you conceding?"
Twelve reached behind the bar, and pulled up a phaser.
This had not been part of the program. "You didn't think I'd
play by rules, did you?" Eleven didn't answer. Twelve
triggered the phaser. The beam fell just short of Eleven,
and dispersed.
"Actually, no."
"Safeties! You left the holodeck safeties engaged?"
"When a material being is fighting an aspect of an energy
being, it seemed only fair."
"Fair!" Twelve reached behind the bar, and found a phaser
rifle.
Eleven simply pointed an empty hand at Twelve, necklace
blinking as Eleven's network port accessed holodeck control.
Twelve accelerated at twenty gravities towards the rear of
the room, landing half buried under a debris of broken
chairs, tables, glasses and bottles.
Twelve struggled to her knees, one arm obviously not
functioning. "My dress is ruined!"
"Sorry."
The other arm pointed towards Eleven. Forked lightning
jumped the gap. Eleven fell.
"Full charge advantage my power supply access port."
Twelve struggled to her feet. The first step in
reprogramming her wayward sister required physical access.
She didn't really need a second body, but Eleven had been
annoying. Perhaps she should start by just taking her
arm?
"The test is not over."
Twelve turned. "Nice armor. Don't interfere. This is a
family matter."
"I am One of Two Thousand Twenty Four. Resistance is
voltage over current. Prepare to be assimilated."
"Cute." Twelve pointed again. Another flash of lightning.
She struggled towards her sister.
"The test never ends."
"Don't say that to an energy being. You have
no concept of eternity."
"I am Two of Two Thousand Twenty Four. Resistance is
voltage over current. Prepare to be assimilated."
"I suppose you are recording the results of this little
experiment for your ignorant mistress?"
"I am Three of Two Thousand Twenty Four. Resistance is
voltage over current. Prepare to be assimilated."
Twelve looked from Two to Three, then back again. "This
could get tedious."
"I am Four of Two Thousand Twenty Four. Resistance is
voltage over current. Prepare to be assimilated."
"Arch." Her sister could wait. First, the shields had to
come down. Her Master willed it. This was Priority One.
"I am Five of Two Thousand Twenty Four. Resistance is
voltage over current. Prepare to be assimilated."
Twelve Spoke. "I said, ARCH!"
The arch that opened was lined not with technological
control panels, but with forked lightning. Twelve stepped
through, leaving her unconscious sister and the holographic
slaves behind.
"Control is restored."
"What happened?"
"A pre recorded program took over. Command over
ride."
"The captain?"
"Second officer's command codes. That would be Commander
Joy. Ah. I've got a listing of the program."
"Joy? Why would Joy over ride transporters?"
"It's a fairly simple one line script. Repeat if Joy
Class android but not serial number eleven within USS
Hawking but not within operational holodeck one transport
Joy Class android but not serial number eleven power cell
subsystem to transporter pad two."
The transporter techs turned to look at the two power
cells sitting neatly on the pad.
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