Work Text:
Demarcation: Subspecies, Techno Slave
by Scorpio
Genetically engineered, technology enhanced human # 331-4 walked down the dimly lit cross corridors following the same path as the large dull blue hydro-pipe. Both he and it turned a sharp corner and headed towards the living quarters for species HS24, more commonly known as human. Since he was one of the organic's lucky enough to be integrated with technology, he rated level 3 quarters. Thank the Machine! He was a subspecies,... not merely an animal.
He was scheduled for follow-up maintenance in the morning, so he needed to get some sleep. Unlike an AI unit, he was organic and required downtime to maintain optimal function levels which was frowned upon, yet at the same time, his organic structure allowed him to make astounding leaps of logic and... faith. *That* was highly prized. Someday, he was certain that the Techno Lords would find a way to allow AI units to think in organic patterns, or to allow an organic to forego sleep. For now though, he needed rest.
He passed by a large chamber filled with cyro-tubes. Each cryo-tube held a living human child that was making the slow and arduous journey of recovery after the implantation of data-chips into their brains. He himself had just spent almost three years locked in a cryo-tube. He gazed through the thick pane of glass at the closest child with a sad wistful expression on his face. He felt his chest tighten and a lump formed in his throat.
He felt so... lost. Oh, he knew it wasn't his fault. He had been damaged somehow and had desperately needed repaired. Now he was completely healthy and awaiting reassignment. That was fine, except... he had *no* memory of who or what he had been. He didn't even have a name. He was just # 331-4. And somehow, that wasn't enough.
He felt as if something were missing. Some integral part of his very being was shunted away, gone from his mind and he wanted it back. This desperate longing was frustrating because he couldn't even say what it was that was gone. Only that he now lacked a sense of purpose, a direction in life. And loneliness. He was *so* lonely for... someone. But who?
This horrible sense of loss had haunted him ever since he had awaken to find himself in a cyro-tube that was slowly being taken off line. The Med-techs had told him that he had been injured on an assignment so badly that they had to open his skull to remove the damaged data-chips and technology-adapter jacks and replace them with new ones. The upside of this was that he now had newer, faster and more versatile technology hardwired into his brain tissues, however, the downside was that he had spent three years in a form of suspended animation while his brain tissue healed from the surgery. Now he had just one more maintenance check-up and then he would be encrypted with a new identity.
Turning the final corner, he quickly came up to the door that led to his personal rooms. It was a small apartment, but clean, and he didn't have to share it with anyone else. Without even glancing at the locking mechanism, he activated the DNA scanner and the hydraulic door whooshed open. He steeped into his tiny corner of the universe and gasped.
A fully functional Cyber-organic Warrior-Sentinel model Ellison: 684-D stood in a darkened corner. Uncertainty and fear stabbed through him. His data-chips poured forth all his information on Warrior-Sentinels in a millisecond. He began to tremble. Was he supposed to be a... *Guide*? Fear blazed through him. That was a horrible and frightening fate. Warrior-Guides almost *never* fulfilled the average life expectancy for an enhanced human. Their jobs were simply too dangerous for that. Although it *would* explain his previous injuries...
"Chief?..."
# 331-4 flinched at the soft sound. *Chief?* Why did that sound so... familiar? He was certain he's never been called that before. Yet... if felt... right.
The Warrior-Sentinel stepped forward into the light and he gasped again. The dangerous AI carried a File-Transference Unit model PPEM-6M. This unit was specifically designed to transfer personality profiles and memories that were stored in a specified range of matrixes. From where he stood, he could see the encryption crystal that was the basis of this particular matrix.
"Wha... Who?"
"Oh Chief. You don't know how *hard* it was to keep this intact and undiscovered for *so* long, but I did. Just as you asked."
"*I* asked?"
The Sentinel nodded and a slight smile reached his lips. # 331-4 swallowed nervously. He wasn't sure how he knew it, but he was absolutely certain that his former identity was contained in that illegal encryption crystal. Fear and curiosity battled within his mind. Should he just ignore this chance to discover his past and wait for the Techno Lords to imprint an identity on him, remaking him in their own image before they assigned him to an easy duty post as a reward for exemplary service? Or should he delve into his former identity with all of the pain it must carry, as well as the exile that would be sure to come for disobedience of such magnitude, just so he could discover the joy and love he'd left behind?
The Sentinel reached into a pack on his hip and pulled out a jack-cord and held it out to him. Logic and reason battled against emotion and intuition. His brain whirled and he felt dizzy as this choice swooped down on him in a rush, leaving him suspended between light and darkness. Should he or shouldn't he? Love and danger? Or safety and loneliness?
His hand was trembling violently as he reached out and took the jack-cord from the Warrior-Sentinel's hand. He took a deep breath to try and steady his splintering nerves and then, before he could change his mind, he inserted the plug into the main adapter-jack in the back of his skull. The Sentinel plugged the other end into the File Transference Unit.
Data and information flowed along the jack-cord. The data-chips in his brain flared to life, activating, one by one. Knowledge, schematics, skills, languages, histories all entered his mind to be filed away. Memories filled his brain in sequential order; sights, sounds, orders, missions, enemies. Emotions and personality engrams surged across his neuro-net; happiness, hate, fear, pride, and most importantly love. Total transfer of stored files took exactly 3 hours, 38 minutes and 23 seconds.
Blair Sandburg, Warrior-Guide looked up into the relieved and tired features of his beloved Cyber-organic Warrior-Sentinel James and smiled. Slowly, and with a steady hand, he removed the jack-cord from his main technology adapter-jack. Moving to stand right in front of James, he reached up and ran a gentle hand along his cheek, feeling the smooth warm flesh.
"James. I love you."
"I love you too Chief. I missed you so much and I'm glad you're finally functional again. I was... afraid that I was too late to save you."
"It will be okay. I'm better... now."
END
Demarcation Subspecies, Techno Slave