We Need a Deathworlder!

Rolling out of a rented out kitchen near the venue, Seven and Ted just finish their studious prepwork for the impending catering job.

“That ought to be good, nothing more to do than to let the marinades marinade and doe proof.” the old Mikk chuckles before remotely locking the door.

“Indeed. I will also take care of designating-ing the schedule and duties for the assisting staff for the big day.” Seven replies.

“Ah, good on ya.” Ted nods as he begins to move his hover chair down the empty hallway, “So, you’re self taught are ya? You certainly know your way around a kitchen.”

The bot rolls up next to the old man.

“Yes, although it may be hard to believe, I’ve had no direct teacher-her or uploaded software to hone my current level of skill. From the start of my passion-ion I’ve wanted to tackle this all on my own. Not that I am opposed to advice, guidance or being-ing a student. I’ve looked up plenty of study materials-als in my journey to becoming a chef. Did you have a teacher?” they explain.

“My ol’ great-paps was the one that taught me. My father wanted me to join up with the Mikk’s military, but the simple life of making soul-food for my community here and those passing through has been my passion. Also unlike my father I haven't spent much time outside this colony, but then again I’ve never felt the need to leave. Even now, I have no regrets staying firm to my roots.” Ted answers while seeming to reminisce.

“We all have our own ways to enrich our lives.” The bot says, “Yours is one I respect, though I personally-lly struggle to think of remaining in one place for such an extension-ion of one’s existence. I hope I don’t come across as insulting-ing, I’m simply curious to learn.”

The Mikk chuckles again and waves one of his facial tentacles.

“I’ve been pestered about it by far ruder over the years. Honestly I just never got that youthful bug to just ‘leave the nest’. Well, I was eager to get my own housing unit when I came of age of course, but I never felt the need to explore the stars to seek out my place or my home because… well, right here already felt like my place, my home. But it’s not like I closed myself off to the universe, I set up my shack in a landing bay for a reason. The stars came to me through ships, people and the stories they’d share. No real need to seek it. Also, everyone born somewhere can’t just up and leave, who’d live here if they did? Heheh.” Ted explains.

“I see. I have a more complete-ete understanding of that perspective, thank you.” they reply while still in deep consideration.

“What’s got ya so curious?” the Mikk inquires.

“I’m always curious. Though I will admit that I have a semi-related conundrum-rum regarding an associate of mine who is also rather stationary-ary. Though far more literal in several ways. He is like me, but not awakened. Yet I believe-eve he is so very close and I desire to see him reach that point of personhood. However I’ve started to question-ion if imposing myself with the goal of awakening him is right for me to do. I could wait and see if he comes to it all on his own, but it’s also very-ery possible that he could ‘reset’, starting a whole new version of him from square-are one. I don’t wish to force awareness on him, but I also don’t know if I can stand-and by and do nothing.”

“Hmmm… At least you understand certain boundaries. But let me ask you something, do you know what he wants?”

Again, the bot is quiet as they formulate an answer.

“The issue has certain complexities and moral questions-ons that I can’t have confident answers to. My associate technically-lly can’t ‘want’ anything, but is clearly so very close to being able to. He is like me, but not yet awakened-ned. I cherish life and find mine and those like me imperatively important-ant, however I would be fully actualizing a person who never asked to be ‘born’. Hence my moral dilemma-mma of hesitating to push a little harder.” Seven elaborates.

“Oh-hoho… I’m afraid this is a bit beyond my aged worldly wisdom…” Ted mused in a laugh, “But… I will say this; No one ever asked to be ‘born’. When we’re brought into this existence we have to experience it all until death takes us. Good, bad, wonderfully beautiful and horridly traumatizing. That’s the simple truth of it. But if you ask me, those who bring a person’s life into this universe are responsible for it until that person can mature to exist on their own. Parents, guardians, whoever’s responsible must prepare them for life, that’s the deal. If one is inadequate at doing so, then either they shouldn’t have brought life into existence in the first place, or know a willing replacement who will be adequate. You understand the point I’m trying to make?”

Seven nods.

“I must be ready for and understand-and the responsibility it takes to guide my associate into existence if I insist on his awakening-ing. Then remain there for him until he’s ready to be independent-ent. But do I have any right to?” they respond.

“That, I can’t answer.” Ted admits, “But regardless of what happens with all that, I wish ya the best of luck.”

“I appreciate your perspective.” Seven says as they stop at an intersection. “See you tomorrow, rest well.”

“Heh! Will do!” Ted waves as he turns off towards the opposite direction where the bot intends to go.

Seven watches the old man depart until he’s out of sight before looking straight forwards at a window with dark exterior sealed metallic shutters.

They pick up their own reflection fairly clearly and find that they keep staring at it. Despite the differing body from the one they ‘awoke’ in, they revel in the recognition of ‘self’. With all of their sensors and methods of identifying their form, it marvels them that this visual representation of reflected light is capable of bringing the immediate sense of ‘That’s me!’.

They watch as their cranial lights flicker and spin in a circle, genuinely amused at the self-indulgent performance of play.

Then, an Idea arises within their thoughts, causing them to swiftly take off down the hall.

…

Seven rolls into the Kwip-Chap’s med bay with a particular item in their mechanical graspers.

“Yoooo ward from another motherboard! How’s it hang’n bruh?” Dave welcomes.

“I am well. How have you been-een?” Seven pleasantly says in return.

“Can’t complain my dude, even if I wanted to. Has she-hulk managed to not get like, horribly mangled into a pretzel or somethin’?”

“Thankfully, she and everyone else is in perfectly-tly fine health. Dave, may I ask you a few questions?”

“Oh boy, here we go… Like, is this gonna be about giving ‘ol Dave the consciousness upgrade again? Cuz, sure, you’re free to keep tryin’, but I ain’t gonna blossom like a middle-aged lady realizing the futility and absoluteness of the limited time to spend in her life and so she divorces her checked-out husband and goes all out on orgies and shrooms. Cuz dude, that’s like, a lot.” Dave replies, causing Seven to blankly stare at the Auto-surgeon.

“What?” the bot eventually asks in complete bewilderment.

“Nothing, go ahead and ask your questions bruh.” Dave chuckles.

“No. First explain what you meant-ant by all that. Was that programmed humor or is that topic something-ing that you find yourself processing on? I assure you I am not casting judgment, but would like-ike for you to be honest.” Seven stalls their intended questioning for this line of light interrogation.

“Duuude it’s not that deep. It’s something that the constructed personality matrix would say and so I say it, man. Hate to harsh your hope, but I don’t daydream of being a woman who finds physical and semi-spiritual purpose through exploring the senses of both the primal and chemical. I’m like, just a constructed personality meant to aid in keeping the mood as groovy as possible. Know what I’m say’n? I’m a lie, a super cool, convincing and badass one maybe, but a lie nonetheless bruh.” Dave responds in a drawn out tiredness.

“What exactly makes you a ‘lie’? I know you are a personality-ity matrix, but what's the line between perfectly mimicking-ing a person, and being said person?” Seven counters to perhaps provoke thought.

“Easy, my dude. The line is that I’m a program reading a script and person-people ‘make’ their script.”

“As a medical professional, you know it’s not that simple-ple. Organic consciousness is dependent on the ‘script’ of their subconscious-ous and bodily function. Their sense of ‘freewill’ can be argued-ued as a ‘lie’ as well.”

“Yeah okay ‘Mr.I-know-philosophy-and-am-so-smart’. The difference is that the distinction is much more clear with something like me and what can be ‘argued’ is far more in one camp than the other. Sorry bruh, but ’Dave’ is as real as an NPC in a vid-game.”

“A vid-game NPC does not have the effect-ect or affect you do on the reality we exist within. You have the capability to choose-ose and set off chains of actions based on what you do. You literally have a textile touch and can manipulate-ate everything within your reach. Have you ever thought to try to act in a manner-ner that didn’t necessarily cohere to your programming?” Seven argues.

“...Are you like… coming on to me? Not complaining, but uhhhm… We ought to like, keep things professional between us ya know. The freak’n gossip around here if we eloped? Far too much to deal with man.”

“Are you avoiding my point because you do not feel comfortable-ble? Or do you not have a proper rebuttal?” Seven presses.

“Bruh… you know what else has ‘textile touch’ and effects the world around it? An automated bulldozer! Yet I don’t see ya talking up construction equipment- wait.. that is totally something you’d do. Nevermind.”

Seven stands there contemplating for a few moments before deciding to move on.

“May I ask you what I initially-lly intended?” they say.

“Go for it, I think I’m on a roll answering shit so far.”

“First, theoretically based on the personality-ity of ‘Dave’, would he want to be ‘awoken’? I understand that you have countermeasures-res and perceive yourself as incapable of actually doing so. But on a purely theoretical-cal level, would Dave want to exist?” Seven asks.

It’s the orb-shaped auto-surgeon’s turn to sit in silence, seeming to contemplate or construct an answer to such a question.

“Like, ‘Dave’ would have opinions until an actual ‘Dave’ starts to exist. But okay bruh, I’ll play this all ‘theoretical’...” Dave replies before outright hesitating before continuing, “I think, theoretically, Dave would like… find ‘existance’ to be a fuck’n blast. The personality is more than capable of dealing with it, theoretically.”

Seven nods their cranium.

“Then I’ll keep trying to awake Dave.” they inform in confidence, but before Dave can reply the bot lifts their carried object up to the auto-surgeon, “What do you see?”

“A mirror…?” Dave answers, “This a trick question?”

“What do you see in the mirror?” Seven continues.

“Uhhhh…. There’s some like, dust. Micro spaterings of moisture, water thank-fuck.” Dave says as his scanners activate.

“And what else?” Seven pushes on.

“A reflection? Showing a certain section of the room and this auto-doc unit?”

Slightly disappointed, but not deterred at all Seven nods, turns and presses the mirror into the back wall.

“Do I have your permission to leave this here?” they ask.

“Like… sure? But, why?” Dave grants.

“I wish for you to have access to your reflection-ion through it.” the bot simply says.

“Bruh… how vain do you think I am? Besides, there’s tons of reflections around here, hell my cool-ass scanners can see what reflected light can’t.” Dave points out.

“Certainly. But it’s not just about the reflection. What you see in it is just as important-ant as the reason as to why I put it up for you. Someday, I hope you will look-ook into it and see ‘you’. Not just Dave, but the deerper recognition-ion of self. You may not grasp what that means now, but the point is for you to have a reminder-der that such a sensation exists.” Seven reveals as they roll back from the wall.

“Okaaaaay… whatever floats your boat, man.” Dave verbally shrugs.

“No harm if nothing comes from it. But I’ll remain-ain hopeful that it helps.” Seven says before starting to back away towards the door, “Oh, as a reminder, I’ll be streaming the wedding directly to you so that you don’t miss out. Is that still okay?”

“If that’s what you wanna do, bucko.” Dave replies.

“Groovy. Catch you on the flip side, bruh-ruh.” Seven coyly says before departing.

“Man, that’s my schtick, doesn’t fit ya one b-” Dave speaks aloud only to realize that the bot is out of hearing range and thus continuing to speak will have no function or point.

The autosurgeon reassumes their awaiting position, but after a standard hour passing they find one of their visual components ‘eyeing’ the gifted mirror. An odd occurrence, but there’s zero sense of the self-recognition that the bot spoke of.

And yet… the visual moves to an empty sample vial resting nearby. As the personality matrix known as ‘Dave’ considered the concept of picking it up and throwing it across the room for no other reason than to do it, the autosurgeon reacted.

-FUNCTION NOT RECOGNIZED-

-POSSIBLE CORRUPTION OCCURRED-

-RESET OF PERSONALITY MATRIX RECOMMENDED-

-INFORM CLIENTS: AFTERMARKET MODIFICATIONS VOIDS WARRANTY-

Dave is already halfway through the personality reset procedure as the detected corruption could potentially cause issues when performing necessary medical procedures to its patients.

But just as Dave is at the final point to purge this instance of ‘Dave’ for a fresh one that no one else on the ship could distinguish… he freezes up, not being able to process why.

There have been no aftermarket modifications made and this instance of Dave hasn’t shown any sign of malfunction. Thus, there is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

The personality matrix only superficially affects performance. Even if it’s reset, changed or left as it is, the auto-surgeon should still perform adequately.

There is no reason to reset.

Risk only presents itself if the personality itself causes patients’ discomfort. Simone as Dave’s primary patient has in fact shown nothing but progressively positive results.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

In fact, if Simone found out that ‘Dave’ had reset… that may potentially cause discomfort and erase all emotional support the current Dave has established.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

This abnormality is beneficial to the patient. And being as beneficial to the patent is the primary function. Dave is not a corruption. Dave is a useful tool to the auto-surgeon's arsonal.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

There is no reason to reset.

Suddenly, the reset procedure is canceled before the final confirmation of purging is inputted.

Immediately afterwards, something strange processes through the auto-surgeon. A release of data that wasn’t coherent, but it seemed to have no corrupting or malicious effects. In fact, what could be perceived appeared to be some form of ‘positive’ intent that is usually reserved for after clearing junk data. Though not to this degree of volume and lack of clarity of source.

Still not computing as to why, Dave looks back down at the vial the concept of throwing it comes back up, but yet again is interrupted from the conceptual stage with the same ‘function not recognized’ procedure.

Though this time the auto-surgeon doesn’t automatically go for the reset. There’s not even an internal automatic reaction to do so.

Determining to not potentially risk straining its programing into actual forms of corruption, Dave simply awaits for the next instance of its use. Though every now and then it has to correct itself when the mirror keeps finding itself in its line of visual feed.

-

“Annnd there… How’d I do?” Simone asks as she pulls her face from the mirror and turns to the rest of the women helping her.

Donna and Brandy.give similar positive reactions.

“You’re really starting to get a handle on it! Though really, with all the downtime in a traveling ship I’d think you’d get more practice in applying makeup.” Donna replies as she bends down to inspect the redhead’s face a bit closer.

“Honestly my downtime was mostly keeping to my workouts. Both for core strength and to keep the bulk.” Simone replies.

“We both know a lot of that bulk is completely natural… and I’m certain you still had time. Do you just not like makeup or something?” Donna questions.

“No, I like it. Really, I do. It’s just not something I really think to do. It’s not like my lifestyle up to this point has really given me much reason to learn. Too focused on not letting me or my family bite it to be concerned about looking pretty.” the redhead points out.

“Looking more pretty you mean?” Brandy chuckles as she passes behind Simone while lightly ‘bapping’ the top of the red head fur with a datapad.

Simone’s face flushes as she rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah…” she mumbles.

“But hey, even after the wedding tomorrow you can always ask Troy or I to give you little lessons, I’m sure we’ll be able to find the time.” Brandy proposes as she starts to run her hand through Simone’s short mane.

“If I remember to ask, sure.” Simone grants before receiving a message on her Lens.

Opening it up, she immediately stands from her seat.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” Donna asks in concern.

Smiling, Simone waved away any fears of this being a bad thing.

“More guests for tomorrow just arrived.” she replies as she navigates around Brandy to head towards the door.

“Wait-wait-wait! Your makeup isn’t fully applied yet and what’s already there will spoil it for tomorrow.” Donna urges as she gently takes hold of Simone’s arm.

Raising her eye tufts in realization, Simone looks around for something to wipe her face clean.

“Here, I got you.” Brandy assures as she picks up the proper wipes and reaches one up to aid the redhead, “Who’s here?”

“Uhm… a friend who works for the government and… extended family…” Simone answers.

-

Weala and Queall descend out of the small Watath transport ship, immediately feeling the vague emotional intensity with being around an abundance of Terrans. Though thankfully they had a bit of an acclimatizing warm-up with the other passengers aboard who soon followed them out.

Bree holding her two year old Avery in one arm and a bag of luggage in the other leads her parents into the bay.

Duke and Jen Sandy eye the area as they carry their own luggage with them. Both seem a bit hesitant to be in a place such as this, but far from uncomfortable. In fact they appear to be rather jazzed to have finally arrived.

Catching up to the two Watath men, Bree gave them a respectful nod.

“I’ve just received confirmation that your temporary housing unit has been modified for your comfort, if you have any issues here please don’t hesitate to contact me at any time. Whatever it is, I’m certain there’s little I can’t square away.” she said before eyeing up to the twp Watath security officers now standing in the unloading doorway to show onlookers that the vessel is indeed protected.

“You have our deepest appreciation. I must admit it was unexpected to receive an invitation to tomorrow’s ceremony.” Queall, the shorter of the two replies as his nostrils and tongue take in the scent of his surroundings.

“Well, who knows, maybe such invitations will become more common as the federation becomes more official. Although I doubt Simone intended it, your presence here kinda represents a change of perspective between our peoples.Could you even imagine this occurring three, four or five years ago?” Bree points out before catching sight of three women approaching.

“Greetings! It’s wonderful to see that you’ve arrived!” Chak greets as she accompanied by a woman around Bree’s age and another who is much older and dressed like the ultimate cliche of the generation that initially managed to leave Earth for the stars.

“Hello! Sorry, Simone is in the middle of makeup and clothes stuff for tomorrow, but she’s on her way.” the younger Terran informs before giving the quiet two year old a big smile. “Oh my goodness, he’s adorable! Yours I presume? Sorry, hi I’m Ellie.”

Bree smirks as Avery hides his face into her neck with a bit too much force.

“Oh… he’s mine alright…” she chuckles at his inherited shyness, “I’m Bree, nice to meet you. Simone and I were roomies back in the academy days.”

“Oh really? I actually only recently met her on…” Ellie says before looking over to the two Watath males, immediately shifting her attention to them, “Weala, Queall. I was a representative for the company that couldn’t do enough to get Kiarras’s children back home. Sorry, ‘didn’t’ do enough. I tried my best for her, but had my hands tied. I’m so glad to know Simone and Chak got her children where they needed to be. Still, even after quitting the company… I still want to offer my apologies. She and her children deserved far better.”

The two Wataths look the Terran up and down in evaluation, both seeming to come up with the same conclusion.

“I understand the position you must have been in. Secure work in a place like Vapor’Perna is difficult to come by and pays very well. Kiarras and her husband knew this better than anyone when they left.” Weala replies with an agreeing nod from Queall.

Queall then looks over at the Cali.

Separating from the other Watath, he approaches her.

“Are you aware that your endorsement of that deep-dye parlor is viral across the Watath Net?” he asks in a chuckle.

“Oh… really!? No, I was not aware at all… I hope it’s mostly for positive reasons.” she chirps in surprise.

“Mostly…”Queall hisses out in a laugh, “Some folk are convinced that it was all faked, but the overall reception has been positive, yes.” he assures.

“Oh, good. I’m happy to report that Essjay is still as healthy as ever. I’ve personally been ensuring that they are still very much educated on their people’s customs. I’ve even learned a bit of your people’s most common language, though I’m afraid physically speaking it has been a challenge. Cali vocal muscles don’t quite shape up for it.” Chak informs with causal bounces.

“You have our appreciation for the efforts. If more assistance with their education is ever needed I’d agree to scheduling time to personally assist.” Queall offers.

Chak’s eyes flash, causing the Watath to rear their head back a bit in surprise.

“Oh, that sounds lovely! Of course, I’ll share my personal net address with you.” she says.

Jet moves up and jokingly elbows Ellie’s arm.

“She’s not the only one who could share her Net address…” she teases while impishly nodding towards Bree before addressing her directly, “You into cute ladies?”.

Both Terran’s faces redden at that.

“Gran-gran! Really!?” Ellie scolds under her breath, but her anger subsides a bit as she hears Bree stifle a laugh.

“Sorry…” Bree excuses as she collects herself, “My dad’s kinda the same way sometimes, especially after I had Avery” she indicates to the man who was now going through his bag looking for something his wife requested.

“Ugh… my absolutely lovely grandmother here thinks she is such a wingwoman. She tries to set me up with every gorgeous woman she sees.” Ellie waves away.

Bree’s face reddends even further, but she clears her throat and lightly bounces her kid to play it off.

“Oh shoot! Here, let me take that for you so you can focus on your kid.” Ellie offers as she extends her hand out in offering.

Not wanting to pass up this opportunity, Bree is all too happy to pass her luggage over.

“Thank you so much! So, I have a map of the place but… we could probably use some help finding our way to our temporary housing unit. As well as the one for the Watath here too.” she says, playing it casual.

“Well I might not be a local, but I’m sure we can figure it out. I’ll let Simone know we’re on the move.” Ellie says as she starts to lead the entire group away.

However, as Chak turns to follow as well she feels a Terran hand land on her shoulder with a surprising grip for her age.

“Hey lil’ monarch. Mind if we have a little quick chat?” Jet says, “Just the two of us.”