Prompt 2009-27-C-1

Aug 20, 2009 22:51

Character: Data
Fandom: Blake's 7
Words: 4,546
Notes: I was wanting to do a crossover of some sort anyway, so I wrote up a scenario for him to exist in the Blake's 7 universe. And then he briefly ran into Servalan. Majority takes place in the same timespan as Headhunter.

000109.82 from Incident...

"Juliana!"

Noonien's voice rose as he slowly made his way through the darkened laboratory, the floor only lit by frayed wires. "Juliana! We have to leave right now! Where are you!"

He pushed over a large piece of metal panel that had fallen, and then peered under a half-fallen machine with a back-aching grunt. No sign of her. He missed his younger days, when he could get around with little trouble.

"Data! Do you see her anywhere?!"

"No, father!" a youthful echo of his own voice came back to him. His vision had deteriorated in his older years, but still the bright, pale gold skin of his android son was easy to make out from across the room, straining to move another heavy machine.

But then his offspring stopped, and was staring down at something, and let the huge hunk of sparking metal and wires drop off to the side.

"Data, what is it?"

The android was still silent for another second. A second too long, Noonien thought to himself, knowing full well all the introspective thought the android could manage in that short time. He turned from whatever he was looking at. He approached his father, stooping to his side.

"Father, we need to go now..."

"But... Juliana-"

The android frowned, his face flinching sadness as he shook his head. He didn't have the time to entertain the emotion, or explain more than that gesture.

"Go..." Noonien argued, wincing and motioning toward the door. "Go, Data! Go...."

Not without her. He could have endured any hardship in the world, but not without her.

"But... Father..." Data argued, reaching to take Noonien's upper arm.

"NO!" The offered hand was shaken off, and Noonien's voice cracked with effort. "I'm dying already, Data. The Federation's coming. You have to leave, or they'll use you. The other colonists are already hiding or escaping."

He looked into Data's aching gold eyes with his own blue ones. Funny, how he'd never noticed how expressive they could be behind the flat, smooth yellow. He'd never seen them under this kind of strain. He touched the young man's cheek, the texture rather sort of buttery smooth but without the lingering feel of oil on your skin afterward.

Data really was a masterful achievement. A striking opposition to every pain and hardship he'd seen in the world. He gave him a lingering, proud, paternal look; looking at him, rightfully, like it would be his last chance to see him.

"You have to download our logs and leave. Download, and destroy all the research..."

Data worked his mouth, trying to fathom an argument to convince his father to leave. The trickling water he could hear in the distance. The crumbling bits of still electrified machinery. It wouldn't be long before the building collapsed in on itself.

Instead, he finally nodded and pulled away from the older man. If nothing else, Noonien was stubborn. Fighting him would likely damn them both.

Noonien watched him hook himself into the furthest computer panel. Good boy. Always my pride and joy... he thought to himself. He sat down on an outcropping of what used to be his bookshelf, entertaining another aged ache. It's alright, body. You won't have to put up with this too much longer.

"Data, you'll remember to do regular diagnostics, right?"

"I have them scheduled, Father," he responded without looking.

"And you'll make sure you eat everything that'll help you and occasionally-"

"Father! Yes, I will!" Data ducked his head. Some shamed part of Noonien was glad of this. His emotions were working. He was a person, capable of love and hate and fear. But he was causing him pain, wrenching the family he'd known his whole life away from him.

"Data, hurry. There's not much time."

He unhooked himself from the machine and ran back to his father, leaning in to hug the older man quickly. Even that was a little uncomfortable, but Noonien accepted the gesture, patting his son's arm. "Go," he repeated. "Go on..."

Then, just like that he was gone. Out the door, and off to the escape pod (or so he hoped). Juliana was never quite certain he'd turn out, not like after what happened with the first android they had completed. But he had to believe Data would persevere. That all his hard work would pan out.

The old man adjusted himself, sitting and contently listening to the snapping sparks and dripping water elsewhere. Listening as information was destroyed and obliterated. Listening as he heard the ships break through the atmosphere, both coming and going.

His eyes trailed to the far end of the room, to where Data had found Juliana. "I'll be right there, dear," he sighed. "Sorry you've had to wait so long..."

The sounds of troopers bursting through the doors followed shortly (or an eternity, as it felt to the cyberneticist). His blurry, old eyes could barely make out their dark clad forms sloshing through the water, but he recognized the sounds of their rifles being raised. He grinned wryly, knowing exactly what the troopers would do, but you could hardly even tell the expression was a smile in his old age. The first that drew his attention, though, was an old Space Commander. Haggard and scarred, obviously a man who had been in the service of the Federation since before the recent administrators took over.

"What took you?"

"Where is it!?" Space Commander Hartnell demanded. They all knew what the scientific colony on Omicron Theta had produced. Discrete, disguised as a farming community, it had gotten by for quite a while. But now Commissioner Sleer knew that there was something here.

That didn't mean Sleer would get it should the Commander find his prize. It could always be missing, when they returned to report the scenario to the Commissioner.

"Over there..." Noonien nodded toward that far end of the room. A moment after the words left his lips, he was thrown back by a blast to the chest.

"What are you doing!" Hartnell snapped at his trooper, shoving the rifle down and giving him a harsh look.

"They- ...well he said-!"

"He could have been lying!" he continued as harshly, but stomped off in that direction. Then slowed as he neared the pile of fallen equipment. His hand came up to cover his mouth, brow knitting as if he'd seen something horrifying.

The other troopers edged closer, peering around their superior for a better look. And they found a crumpled body on the floor, crimson seeping into the water. A huge piece of ceiling crushing down on what was an older woman's skull..

No, not an older woman.

An android.

Sparks flickered from the shattered metallic skull, the contents destroyed as the body twitched faintly. Obviously, that brain (before being utterly shattered) had been very advanced.

"...What was that old man doing here..." the commander asked aloud. Then looked up as a crackling, loud mess of sparks raining down.

He barely had time to look down at the five inches of water he and his troopers were standing in before the power conduit fell.

004621.05 from Incident...

The space station wasn't quite as pristine as the one that served as her primary base as Supreme Commander, but it could be considered adequate.

Servalan did not approve of merely adequate.

Commissioner Sleer, she supposed, had to be more frugal. At least from outward appearance, and make use of whatever was supplied to her. That was what one had to do when they assumed an identity, and that was what Servalan excelled at even when she wasn't necessarily claiming herself as Servalan. She stood at one of the windows, her arms crossed over her chest, her loose hanging dress caressing her curves in ways that drew glances from passing troopers. Glances that she pretended to take no notice of, but was keenly aware of. Men stationed out in space with the hollow husks of mutoids often found themselves at a loss around a strong, confident woman.

Just the way she preferred it. And if she had her way, any and all women that might provide her with some competition were swiftly dealt with and sent to the furthest recesses of the Federation. It was simply more to her advantage to remain surrounded by sexless drones.

She did, after all, have to remain the queen of the hive.

Though she wasn't merely standing in the corridor to taunt men for attention. She was waiting on some troopers in particular. She could see their ship docked, but they were taking entirely too long to come and tell her what exactly had occurred on the mysterious planet of Omicron Theta. Of course, this could only mean bad news.

There were many privately sanctioned science colonies out there, but they had all come to the Federation's attention at least once. Somehow Omicron Theta had slipped under the radar, until an enticing subspace message informed her that a supposedly long dead renegade scientist had achieved the impossible. He'd made a fully functioning positronic brain, with the ability of circuit influence, probability functions, potential for almost unlimited growth, and functioned as a major information repository.

She could do so much with something like that. Like an omen that she need not deal with those troublesome miscreants who'd made off with Ensor's creation any longer. Despite her interest in Avon, she found she would much rather see him pitifully foaming at the mouth to get his hands on her valuable new asset. To give her that one last advantage over him, until she finally broke that last little stitch of pride left in him.

If they came back empty handed, she was going to be sorely disappointed.

She frowned as it was Belkov who approached her. He'd been her first choice to send to the planet, as he had the technical expertise to identify the validity of Noonien's work. She stood up a little straighter, lifting her chin in characteristic self-assurance and looked down her finely pointed nose at him.

"Commissioner," he said hesitantly as he approached her. "We... we found something... but-."

"If I were you, I would make this venture sound as successful as you possibly can, because I have little use for men who don't live up to their highly over-stated credentials."

He almost argued back, but held his tongue. Just like a good little dog, she thought to herself, and her expression settled to a realm between sultry and narrowed.

"We found an android. We might be able to discern limited information on its construction based upon what we discovered in the remains of Dr. Soong's lab. Your men got a little trigger happy during the attack, and caused wide-spread damage to the colony site."

"My men?" She scoffed. "Belkov, when they were with you, they were your men, and your responsibility. I expect you to answer for them. Every severed circuit and lost byte of information. Did any of the colonists escape?"

Belkov swallowed again. He was trying so very hard to keep his sturdy exterior. The poor dear, she thought mockingly to herself. It was almost time for a bit of mock sympathy.

"Yes, Commissioner. There were two escape pods, and a hijacked Federation transport."

That drew a furrow between her finely arched brows. "Hijacked? By who?"

"We don't know. Hartnell's men were electrocuted in Soong's lab. Whatever survivors we found we've drugged and had brought."

"Excellent. I want them stripped for information however you can manage. And if you can find the individual that sent me that signal, I would very much like to meet them."

"Yes, Commissioner," he responded, turning on his heel and quickly leaving.

Servalan's eyes darted, her expression still curious. A hijacked Federation transport meant there was some chance the ship could be tracked. Even with the dispersed government since the Galactic War, she could string together enough information to scrounge up the flight path.

She made her way back to her office, settled behind her desk and paged the mutoid in charge of her personal affairs.

No one would be that obvious. No one in a colony renowned for its intelligence, anyway. Someone was leading her along, and it had her extremely intrigued.

012709.02 from Incident...

"He's still refusing to speak to us," Anne said, staring at the view screen. The technician pursed her mouth into a displeased expression, arms crossed in front of her as she looked over the android. He had once spoken, but now he didn't even allow them near him. The most they could do was restrain him, in a separate quarantined room with no windows, no implements he could utilize to escape, and no interaction with any of the personnel.

"Of course not," Muller protested. "He was expecting assistance, and look what we did to him."

He had been one of Ensor's brightest students, and his study had yielded the greatest results. But even he knew that creature in there was beyond anything he'd explored in his studies.

When the Robot Development Cartel had intercepted the pod from Omicron Theta, they had not considered the options. Noonien Soong was considered something of a madman, and they certainly hadn't expected him to yield any results. He'd ignored all of Ensor's studies. Disregarded every robotic principal known. He'd waged preposterous theories concerning the decay of positrons and their use in artificial intelligence. It was all wild conjecture and speculation.

Somehow, he produced something, and now it was sitting petulantly in a lonely room, glaring at the wall opposite of it.

"He came to us for help," Muller said thoughtfully, an almost empathetic look crossing his face.

The older woman tapped a heeled shoe against the floor impatiently, as if her displeasure at the android's silence and lack of cooperation would somehow filter through the wall and influence it. The muscles in her jaw strained with a thick swallow, burying as much of the tension as she could.

"We are going to have to find a way to implement power shocks. If we can overload him, perhaps that will give us a chance at disassembly."

Muller frowned. This was someone's life's blood. More importantly, he had beaten the odds and proved himself right. That had earned Muller's respect, anyway. He could only imagine what he would feel were his work treated in such a disrespectful, uncouth manner. "Do what you will," he grumbled, turning away from the woman and walking off toward the exit doors.

He was very glad at that moment that he'd made the agreement to join the rebellion. Blake's men, even without the aid of their fearless leader, were legendary. Were he able to finish his android in time for the arrival of the Scorpio, it would be prime to combine with Ensor's creation, Orac. It was a major flaw in Orac's design that the computer lacked mobility. It couldn't escape on it's own if necessity required it to. But the android he'd made, though not as elegant as some of the more organic constructions he'd seen produced in the facility, was specifically built to incorporate elements of Orac into himself eventually.

He only had a few hours. He had intended to tell Anne of his departure, but given her recent behavior he had changed his mind.

So busy were Muller's thoughts that when the door to his laboratory slid open shock slid up his spine and his eyes went wide. He tried to yell, but before the sound could leave his mouth two massive hands grabbed either side of his head, and he went stumbling into the room.

012732.02 from Incident...

Data remained quietly in his place, picking up the sounds of raised alarms though he didn't move. At first, anyway. Not until the door to his cell hissed and the vacuum seal broke.

He glanced over, gold eyes swiveling as his expression remained flat. He stood, adjusting his ill-fitting gray jumpsuit. A flicker of the lights overhead was met with an avian tip of his head, a curious glance upward.

The station was under some sort of attack.

The door opened a tiny bit, and Data took a step back, poised for more security to attempt to incapacitate him. If they were anything like the last batch, they would be rethinking their occupations.

A figure passed by the door, the shadow visible through the crack, and then a bracelet rolled in along the floor.

Data approached the bracelet slowly, toeing it with his shoe. He wasn't entirely sure where it had been acquired from. There was a small, tinny voice coming from it. Uncertain sounding. It was met with a confident one.

Then they mentioned Muller.

Data picked up the item and turned it in his hands. Rather than putting it on, he opened up the portion to the communication device, eying the contents and then plucking loose a few stray chips.

Chips that he one by one shoved unceremoniously into a panel in the palm of his hand.

Some human mimicking impulse made him breathe in sharply through his nose. His eyes fluttered shut as he honed in the location of the ship, brow even tensing slightly.

Scorpio.

The ship that was now being used by Blake's men. The Liberator had been destroyed (or stolen, or left adrift, or crashed, it depended on the unreliable account). Why were they here for Muller?

Coordinates, Planet Xenon : 02.664.995.2

His eyes snapped wide, intercepting transmissions from the computer on board. There was something wrong. If he rushed, he could attempt to follow them stealthily toward their destination. His escape pod was still docked somewhere nearby. If he were able to assist, perhaps they would be willing to assist him.

Though he wasn't left with much time to try and discern who had left him the gift. It could have easily have been Federation operatives, working discretely within the Robot Development Cartel. Even if so, he couldn't waste the effort to make a distinction. Lives were at stake. The Omicron Theta data had to be transported to a more reliable location. He would have to keep an eye out, and hope that he didn't inadvertently lead the rebellion to damnation by revealing the location of the rebel base.

Data ran out into the hall, thrusting his hand into the nearest console and sinking his fingers into the circuits. Maps of the facility, copies of the current alerts and signals flashed in front of his vision. Finding the optimal path back to his pod (which he confirmed was still intact), he jogged off to find the docking bay.

Fortunately, security seemed to be redirected toward Muller's lab, which meant he would have a clear path.

012724.02 from Incident...

Anne's panic grew as she received the technician's report. It hadn't even been an hour since she talked to Muller, and now he was gone. His head was gone.

That damned project of his must have caught up with him.

Not only that, they were receiving a signal from an incoming Federation ship. Commissioner Sleer was going to be landing soon, apparently having tracked another ship to their docks.

She pushed away from the console, and put on her best matronly expression. It was entirely too soon to be dealing with this nonsense, not while-

Her face fell blank as she looked to a monitor. He was gone! Someone had let the android out.

She grabbed at the console, turning on more alarms and patching into security. "Security! Soong's android is loose. He must take priority!"

Her hands fumbled for more controls. Opening the docking bay for the incoming Federation ship, sending more officers to guard the hangar. Never mind that fool Muller. He was dead and gone, his own insatiable pride having finally been overrun by his own creation. For all she knew, Soong's android could have used the beast to facilitate his own escape. They could be together, at that very moment.

That was what she was going to assume, and she swiftly left to meet their visitors.

012724.05 from Incident...

Data ducked behind his escape pod, quietly waiting as the Federation ship docked. He flattened into the shadows beneath it, though if one were to look especially close, he wasn't particularly well hidden. He could at least make the attempt, though, watching as the troopers descended from the ship, following another man to meet with security officers at the hangar doors.

He had been lucky enough to beat most of the security there, but they would soon be looking inside of the docking bay for him. He wouldn't be able to continue skulking around as he was indefinitely.

His gaze shifted to the steps of the Federation ship. Yes, that would do nicely.

Keen hearing caught a familiar, sanctimonious voice he'd come to loathe speaking with one of the Federation officials. His name was Belkov, apparently. Whatever it was, it mattered little to him, and he made a quick sprint to the ship.

The two mutoids in the cockpit looked over their shoulders in surprise at the sudden presence, which led to the android freezing in place. He'd never actually seen one before.

They looked... “fake”.

Which was an odd concept, coming from an artificial being, but there was something profoundly unnatural about them. Even in the way they moved, the way they stood. More like manufactured dolls. He couldn't help but ponder it as the first stood, drawing her gun.

Unreal, but still not as quick as him.

He snatched the weapon from her hand. Normally, he would have tried for a non-fatal injury. After all, his father had taught him to appreciate life in all of its forms. But these things had given up their lives to pursue service in the Federation. He used her own gun against her, and was easily able to move out of the way of the shot the other fired.

He slung his gun over his shoulder, and started to stoop and grasp one of the mutoid bodies under its arms, when he heard the faint click of heeled shoes behind him.

Releasing her, he spun in place, gun drawn. Another woman was standing there, casting an analytical dispassionate glance toward the mutoids, a small, refined weapon held loosely in her grip. Short hair, shocking make-up, and elaborate dress.

"Oh, you are very good, aren't you?" she commented casually, following the statement by wetting her lips, her tongue faintly visible for a moment. Like a cat eyeing a mouse. Or what she supposed was a mouse. "You are capable of independent thought, aren't you?"

"Very..." he responded. "And it is highly probable that I will be faster with the weapon I am holding than you are with yours. I politely request that you vacate this vessel."

She tilted her head, as if someone talking to her in such a way were novel. "You are Soong's android. Every bit the enigma that I was informed of. Compassion on top of logic. You would think your creator would have given your sense of self-preservation priority in these times."

"My father gave me what I needed," he countered, a little short at having Soong's decisions called into question.

“You call him your father? Do you have a name?” she asked.

“Data.” Though he didn't wish to get to know this woman well, and he was aware that he was pressed for time.

“I'm Commissioner Sleer.”

“And I am afraid my I have fairly urgent priorities that do not lend to copious amounts of time for indulgent conversation.”

"Well. Assuming that you will do what you need to, then, I should be on my way..."

She allowed her gun hand to lower, and she flashed a smile framed with crimson lips that would have dazzled any flesh and blood man (though keenly escaped the android's attention). She glided more than she walked toward the stairs of the door.

She stalled though, regarding the android with a glint in her eye. Something close to avarice there. Not quite lust. But nonetheless, regarding him as a potential possession. It was enough to make the android swallow thickly, and he gestured with his weapon to indicate for her to speed up.

He had no idea who the woman was, and as soon as she was off he pulled up the steps and shut the hatch tightly. Rather than moving the mutoids, he settled for shoving one out of the way and settling into her seat. He would have to deal with disposal later.

He was also inconvenienced with a Federation craft that he would have to change out somewhere along the way so that the Scorpio would not believe itself to be pursued. Disabling any identifying signals would be quite simple, and he tore out the bottom of the console to change around some of the relays.

012727.05 from Incident...

"You fools!"

Belkov turned at the harsh reprimand from Sleer, surprised to find the woman storming (which somehow she managed to do with unnerving grace as well), up behind him. The older woman with the unpleasantly pinched face he'd been speaking with seemed taken aback by the announcement as well.

"Commissioner?"

"He's getting away, with our ship!" Commissioner Sleer held out her hands. "A machine has proven once again that you men are fully incapable."

It was no wonder she referred back onto her tactical computers so often.

Belkov looked as if he'd been slapped, anger flashing in wide eyes. He respected computers as much as the next man. But they were no replacement for man.

"Find him," she snapped before he could even fathom a retort.

"Excuse me, that's our android," the other woman argued.

"And we're appropriating him for the future of the Federation, no matter whose android he is. I. Want. Him."

"Commissioner!" a trooper called from behind her. "He's broken the controls to the docking bay doors. It will take hours to fix them..."

Sleer didn't allow the utter and pure disdain show on her face. It could crease it, after all. Instead she swallowed it with a flutter of her eyelids.

"Then someone should hurry, I would imagine. And as for you," she turned to Anne, her eyes narrowing to predatory slits. "If I were you, I would become more adjusted to the idea of the a Federation presence. From now on, you and your people are going to answer to me."

"And if I refuse?" the technical supervisor asked, her cheek flinching slightly in mirrored agitation.

"Oh, you're free to leave." The response was accompanied by another stunning, sinister smile and a slight toss of her head. "With the clothes on you back, and nothing else. But if you've come to appreciate your position here, I would consider cooperation. Authority is a wonderful thing. I know from experience... it's far too precious to give up."

Before Anne could even agree, Belkov had the Commissioner's attention.

"What are you waiting for! Start helping them. I want that android, and if we lose his trail I'll have her in charge of finding him and you back on your little festering planet digging for crystals."

Belkov was bristling, but new better than to speak out against her. So instead, he silently moved to follow the other troopers.

storyline: blakes 7, ic: remix, character: data, comm: realm of the muse, character: servalan

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