Starship pilot who is Chunk Hugefist, Biff Hardface, and/or Dirk Fridgemeat
The next few weeks had been... interesting and full of surprises for BR247516-I – No, she was just Berry now.
Kyra had been true to her word – obviously, Berry couldn't think of a time when she hadn't – and they'd practised. Every day. Just talking and talking and talking. About everything. About nothing. Not very much about Kyra herself, strangely, but that was okay, because there was a whole universe of other things to talk about out there. To discover.
All in pursuit, of course, of weaning Berry off her verbal conditioning, in the sea of dead time their mission for the UPWA offered them. And there was a lot of that, because if there were any pirates in this system, they were either extremely stealthy, invisible even, or the luckiest pirates that ever lived. Suspiciously so.
Now that she had something to focus on, to pour her restless energy into, Kyra had stopped obsessively pacing the ship like a trapped animal.
And focus on Berry she did. Patiently. Intensely. Sometimes almost uncomfortably so. Not that Berry would ever tell Kyra that. Not now that her operative seemed almost... happy. And it wasn't really a bad kind of intense. Just... confusing. Probably incorrect. But that was Berry's problem, not something she should bother Kyra with.
Her operative'd even shown Berry how to access the ship's internal entertainment library, unlocking an entirely new world the pilot had hitherto been unaware of. One that had been hidden from her and her siblings.
She'd known about the existence of these things, in the abstract, but she'd never... perused them, or felt any desire to. Clones, it seemed, didn't need to know anything more about them. These were just simply naturalborn things. Not for them. Cargo, maybe. Nothing more. And she'd somehow... accepted that. Been incurious. Indifferent. Never even tried them.
Books! So many fantastical and imaginative stories set in interesting worlds for her to explore! Planets that were in fact impossibly giant turtles! Princesses and their winged knights! Tortured inventors building the most magnificent contraptions! Soldiers finding ancient and mysterious gateways! Universes where the vast expanse between the stars was an actual sea!
Oftentimes, Berry got so lost in the fascinating tales being spun, in the vivid experiences being painted, so alien but achingly enticing, that she had to sternly remind herself this too was training. That she was supposed to focus on how the characters spoke.
Not that that stopped her from devouring everything she could access. She'd even turned the secondary screen of her console into a book reader, so she could plunge freely into stories and daydream away while still performing her vital duties of making sure they didn't crash into anything.
That was another new development. Berry had been worried at first there was something wrong with her, that she was malfunctioning, especially when it started happening during the night cycle, but Kyra had dispelled her fears. That what she was experiencing was probably a mechanism called 'dreaming'. That dreams were perfectly normal, and that everyone had them.
Every naturalborn, that is.
Berry still wasn't quite sure if she should be terrified or thrilled that this was happening. That she was changing, without consciously choosing to do so herself. But not in the same way as at the crèche, where they went in with machines to burn out anything deemed unnecessary. Deemed incorrect. This seemed to come from within. Which was impossible. There wasn't supposed to be anything inside her that the company hadn't put in there. So how was this happening?
And speaking of thrilling...
Movies! Berry enjoyed the rare treat of movie time the most. One day, Kyra had declared that books were all fine and well, but that to truly get a feel for a more standard conversational rhythm, they would be forced to endure something called 'movies'. And then she'd winked at Berry as she dragged some excess blankets into a pile. Made a neat seat for them to sit together and watch more training from time to time.
Berry didn't even mind that it was in those times that their ship's tiny single sonic shower made itself felt – or rather smelt – the most. She was just happy to sit there, close to Kyra, and feel like... like a naturalborn.
Exceedingly incorrect... but she'd... stopped feeling guilty about it. About feeling anything in the first place.
The more they trained and did things together, the easier it was becoming for Berry to... ignore those inner voices. The company's conditioning and watchdogs. She barely even got the headaches any more. Not that she'd ever told Kyra about those. She didn't want to worry her operative.
Yet another recent thing. Berry'd learned there were other ways of feeling, of acting, besides the implacable drive of must that had been pounded into her. She'd been aware of them before, of course – all clones were, in a clinically dispassionate way, because all it took was one look at the naturalborn around them to see the difference – but now... Now she could choose how to approach things. When it came to Kyra and their missions together at least.
By claiming her, Kyra had shown Berry... a way of reshaping herself. Any way she wanted. The way Kyra wanted. Still within the confines of the framework imposed, imprinted by the company of course, but Berry'd never expected there to be so much... freedom to be found within its rigid borders.
Extremely incorrect, but at the same time... right.
The proximity scan stubbornly pinged its discovery of a new blip. An anomaly. Demanded they pay attention and deal with it.
Kyra sighed. Stretched. Gently nudged Berry awake where she'd fallen asleep, half in her lap. Maybe three long movies in a row had been pushing it. Kyra needed to remember that while she had nothing to do until they actually found the pirates, if they were even here, her pilot had been manning her post almost constantly. Working hard, like she always did.
Berry made a soft noise of complaint. Burrowed deeper. Slowly opened her eyes. Realised where she was. What'd happened. Mortified, she couldn't scramble out of her operative's lap fast enough, stumbling her way to her console. To report. To not be in dereliction of duty.
"Berry?" Kyra called softly as she massaged some feeling back into her legs. "It's okay."
It wasn't. Berry had a mission, and she'd completely forgotten about it. Incorrect. Had fallen asleep while watching movies. Very incorrect. In Kyra's lap. Extremely incorrect. Why hadn't Kyra said anything? Woken her up the moment it happened? How could Berry have let this happen? She'd inconvenienced her operative! Ignored her duties! She should decommission herself!
Kyra watched her pilot carefully. Noticed the fresh tension lines bloom and spread throughout her body. The herky-jerky movements, so unlike Berry's usual smooth and sure ones when she was performing the tasks she was made for.
Time to intervene. Reset things. No matter how much it sucked. Baby steps.
The operative slung herself in her gunnery chair. Strapped in. "Pilot. Report." she barked, and watched Berry's body language change instantly as another form of conditioning took over. Overrode the one chastising her partner for having a human moment.
"One contact, approaching fast." Berry tapped away at the navigational plot's controls. Reframed it. Traced vectors. "Coming straight at us." Focused on the helpful IFF box, friendly green, which was disgorging more info about the target by the second.
That couldn't be right.
"It's... an UPWA ship?" She finally dared to look at her operative, confusion overriding any lingering remnants of her shame. "Were we supposed to be reprovisioned already?" She didn't understand why a supply ship would be blasting an UPWA ident in an area that was suspected of hiding a pirate base. That seemed highly inefficient to her.
Kyra frowned. "No, we weren't. We have stores for another month in the hold." That was the whole point of this observation station. It was mostly storage space, so they could stay out here for ages without raising suspicion. And now some stupid asshole seemed intent on blowing their cover.
Kyra intended to find out why.
Deft fingers flicked switches on her board, starting processes deep inside a dedicated black box that would record the full tactical plot and any ship-to-ship communications until the switches were toggled off again – or it stopped receiving data. In which case the whole ship'd probably have ceased to exist, and it wouldn't be anything for her to worry over any longer anyway.
A call request came through, and Kyra snarled in anticipation, her thumb stabbing the connect button a bit too forcefully.
This better be good.
A man's face filled the viewscreen that had only recently been the stage of their movie marathon, and she rolled her eyes. Oh, this idiot. Whatshisface Somethingorother The Turd. Why the hell was this slimeball all the way out here, instead of chasing after poor interns at whatever branch office they'd parked him at?
She'd met him... twice, she thought, at some company dinners she'd been forced to attend as part of her penance for actions the bean counters at the UPWA had deemed... excessive. Which was two times too many. Just having to be in the same room as this asshole and his vapid ilk had been more than punishment enough for a whole lifetime, and she'd told her chief there'd be no third time. Or else. There had been no third time.
"Why hello, Kyra. Fancy meeting you here." the flash bastard with the shit-eating grin purred. "You still owe me a race, and I'm here to collect. You must be getting bored out of your skull just floating around this graveyard with nothing to do, right? So, what do you say? Time to finally settle which one of us is the best." His tone telegraphed that it was obviously him, at least in his opinion, which was the only one that mattered, naturally.
Kyra pinched the bridge of her nose. She felt sluggish. Definitely wasn't awake enough to deal with this creep. "Let me get this straight." she sighed. "You're here to challenge me to a race. While I'm on a surveillance mission in a floating rock."
She watched his grin get even wider. More smug. Of course he was well aware. Had probably explicitly picked this time so the deck would be stacked in his favour. Weasels like him never played fair. Some uncle with too much pull got him his job too, if she remembered correctly.
Okay, time to deflate that oversized ego a bit. "Does that about cover it, Biff?"
His confident smile slipped, just a tiny bit. A hairline fracture in his polished, expensive facade. "That's not my name, and you know it!" Not-Biff grunted in annoyance. "What's the matter, you afraid you'll lose?" he taunted her.
Kyra smiled back pleasantly. "Oh no, I have every faith in my pilot. She'll smoke you like cheese, Chunk." She couldn't back down from a challenge. From a chance to put this ass in his place.
What? Berry's eyes went wide. Pleaded silently with Kyra not to do this. Her? Win a race? She had no context, no programming for that! She wouldn't even know what to do! What even was a race?
A vein started to throb in Not-Chunk's forehead. "I'm here to challenge you, Kyra. Not your wind-up toy. Stop hiding behind it, you chicken! There's no challenge in beating a braindead tour bus driver Xerox. No bragging rights."
Berry bit her knuckle. Stared at her navigational plot through a kaleidoscope of imminent tears. The man's words hurt, which was incorrect, but he wasn't wrong. She didn't know how to do this. All she was created to do was to fly from location to location. Not... this. Whatever it was.
Insult her partner, would he? "Well then you're shit out of luck, Duck, because I'm not hiding behind anyone. I've been forbidden from..." Kyra cleared her throat, and her voice gained a singsong quality, mimicking the very serious lawyer who'd laid out these terms to her after her most recent spectacular stunt. Which she thought was quite unfair, because she'd saved all those people. Who cared about a few dozen starliners, really?
"... touching the controls of any ship, vehicle or any other form of conveyance or object usable for the purpose thereof myself, and must leave all steering decisions to an accredited pilot, driver, operator or specialist professional, whom I will not interfere with or override at any time, except in cases of imminent mortal peril, and even then only in extreme circumstances, and this for the entire duration of the period in which I'm performing tasks assigned to me by the Universe Protection Works Association, or one of its clients, partners or vetted subcontractors."
A vulpine smile and a theatrical shrug. "Which is why Berry's here. Orders from the highest level. Something about my insurance premiums specifically, you know." She wiggled her fingers at him. Kyra was starting to enjoy herself, just a little bit, as she watched a fresh eyelid twitch make itself at home on Not-Duck's face.
"Fine!" he barked. "Be that way. I don't care. Let's talk terms. When I win, you go on a date with me."
Kyra itched to wipe that smug smirk off his face. All it would take would be a single press of a button. Just a little slip of the finger, and oops, would you look at that. So sorry.
Usually.
Unfortunately, this gunnery seat was inert. All external weapons had been stripped off this hunk, despite and very much against her protests. Kyra had been all but defanged. Declawed. And she hated it. She did stash a little surprise of her own in the hold, but she wasn't going to waste it on this sleazebag. Not yet, anyway. Maybe later, if he kept trying to hump her last nerve. So.
"Sure." she answered breezily. "And if I win, I don't ever want to see your ugly mug again, Doug."
Not-Doug was red in the face now. "That's not my name! You know who I am! Stop being childish!" he snapped, before visibly composing himself. Taking a deep breath. Remembering the prize. The reason he was doing this. One of them, anyhow. Regaining some of his swagger. "Well, it's your choice. I hope you put out on a first date!" he leered.
Berry frowned and turned to look at Kyra. Put what out?
Kyra saw her pilot's confusion, and muted the connection. "It means have sex." she explained.
Berry's "Oh." was very... neutral. She knew what sex was. Conceptually. The naturalborn method of reproduction. Sometimes done purely for pleasure and relaxation. A thought popped into her head, unbidden. Try as she might, she couldn't ignore it. Couldn't resist poking at it. "Do you... want to have sex with him?" she asked.
Kyra laughed. "No, he's definitely not my type." she reassured the girl. Seeing that this didn't help, she clarified "I don't do men."
It took a second or two, but her pilot's "Oh." this time came out very differently.
Interesting. Berry tucked the neurochemical response her operative's words had caused away for further study at a later date. No time for that now. Her fingers curled tightly around her stick.
She had a race to win.
Kyra unmuted the connection.
"– me while I'm talking to you!" thundered through.
"Chill, Chad." Kyra replied calmly. She idly wondered if she could just talk him into having a heart attack, as her words seemed to only make him more swollen and even redder in the face. Unhealthily so.
Not-Chad's nostrils flared and the look he gave her was one of pure venom now. He aggressively punched something outside of the camera's pickup range, and coordinates appeared on screen. Somewhere deep inside the maelstrom. "This is our goal. First one there, wins. If your toy can't handle the pressure and bails, you lose. We start on the hour mark. Less than two minutes to reconsider, Kyra."
Kyra was through pretending to be nice. "Oh, don't worry about my Berry. She can fly rings around your pathetic ass, Lucas."
"I don't want to be anywhere near that man's behind, Kyra." Berry muttered, making her operative snort.
Not-Lucas broke the connection without another word.
Berry swallowed. Wiped her sweaty palms. Kept an eye on the clock. Watched the seconds tick down. Towards her failure. Towards her operative having to...
"Hey. Berry. Relax. You'll do fine." Kyra assured her. "All you need to do is get us from here, to the goal, in one piece. That's all. Don't worry about anything else. You know how do that, don't you?"
Put like that, it did seem like something she should be able to handle. Berry nodded to herself. Going from one place to another, she knew how to do. Was built for.
It was amazing, really. Kyra always knew just how to frame things in a different light. Break through Berry's doubts. How did she do it?
The pilot licked her lips as the last few seconds melted away...
Of course the smarmy toad cheated. He was a bottom-feeder, and Kyra hadn't really expected anything different from him.
Their unwanted guest'd started moving before the agreed-on starting signal, boosting towards the goal like a bat out of hell. And then he'd had to reduce speed almost instantly anyway, suddenly and violently, retrorockets flaring brighter than a supernova, because the goal he himself had chosen was buried way down in the worst of what remained of the once vibrant system. A dangerous place full of unpredictable hazards, where all the speed and flashy ships in the universe wouldn't help you one whit.
Only actual, true pilotcraft counted where they were going. Idiot.
Kyra had left her seat in the gunnery chair, and crouched next to Berry. Watching the navigational plot. Watching her pilot work, one arm hooked into a creaking strap dangling from the back of Berry's chair the only thing that was keeping her in place.
A solid, dependable rock, radiating complete confidence.
Confidence a sweating Berry didn't really mirror as she fought the controls to barely avoid a spinning planetary fragment that came out of nowhere. This was bad. She couldn't do this. Gravity wasn't just upside down here, it kept changing on her, trying to pull her in a dozen different directions, all of them ending with her ship smashed into remnants much larger than it. With her dead. With Kyra dead. Transformed into glittering new residents of this frozen charnel house.
Berry felt close to tears again. Extremely incorrect. She'd been right! She wasn't made for this! Any of this! But she couldn't let Kyra down! She needed to win this race! She was her pilot, and her operative needed her to do well! Even if she seemed to be the reason that Berry kept being involved in things light-years beyond her comfort zone. This was just like when she'd made Berry try surfing.
Something clicked somewhere in the back of Berry's brain.
This was just like when Kyra had made her try surfing.
Berry released the controls, hands hovering above them, but not touching. Closed her eyes and tried to remember what it had felt like. Out there, on the water, with her flimsy board, at the mercy of the sea. A presence so vast, so overwhelming, so unfathomable that all you could do was give yourself over to it and trust it would steer you right. Wouldn't kill you.
She opened her eyes and looked at Kyra, who was watching her closely.
Overwhelming and unfathomable indeed.
"Everything all right, Berry?" the operative asked.
Berry slowly released the breath she'd been holding. Lightly grasped the stick. "Yes." Stopped fighting the pull of the many gravitational eddies trying to suck in her ship. Crush it. Devour it. Went with the flow.
She was surfing.
No, she was dancing, letting the maelstrom take her where it wanted. Needed her, for its irresistible contredanse. Going from partner to partner, letting them sling her closer to her goal. Gliding through the deadly labyrinth of what used to be living, breathing worlds with ease. Leaving their opponent further and further behind, struggling to catch up.
The fastest path wasn't always a straight line.
The connection request notification had been pinging insistently, and Kyra finally accepted it. "What? We're kinda busy winning a race over here."
Not-Lucas was no longer laughing. "Hey! You're cheating, you bitch! You said you'd let your Xerox pilot!" he accused her.
Kyra grinned and gestured around the small cabin they were in. At herself, next to the pilot chair. "Do you see me driving this rock?" she taunted him. "I wish I could fly like this. This is all her. Pure skill. Something you just don't have one lick of, Hoff."
Something on the plot grabbed her attention, and Kyra frowned. It wasn't very reliable here, the background radiation and gravitational waves washing it out and filling it with noise, but... she'd seen... no, sensed something. Ghostly traces. Out at the very edge of the range. As if whatever it was was trying to stay undetected.
A sign of the pirates they'd been hunting for? Finally? What were the chances, if it was? Her eyes cut to the viewscreen. Narrowed. Grew hard. Astronomically small.
Upon seeing her put the pieces together, Not-Hoff's face contorted into an ugly grimace, a disturbing mixture of resignation and gloating. "Aww man, I'm kinda sad now. I wanted a turn at you first, but I guess I'll just have to be content with watching my friends take care of you instead." He grinned. "Can't have my very lucrative secondary revenue stream disappear, you know?"
Of course. A lot suddenly became crystal clear. Why the pirates had always seemed like ghosts, their very existence a question. Why Kyra had been selected for this mission, even though stake-outs really weren't her thing, something her boss knew.
Well... this wasn't exactly what she'd planned, but she could work with this. They had more than enough confirmation there was a pirate base in-system now.
Kyra leaned closer to Berry and whispered "Just keep flying towards the coordinates he gave, okay? But slow down just a little. Make him think he's still got a chance." She gave her pilot's shoulder a comforting you-got-this squeeze. "Trust me."
Straightening, the operative gave the screen a curt nod. "Thanks. I'll be right back." And she just... left. Without another glance. Another word.
"W... What?" The duplicitous snake was flabbergasted. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. How he'd planned it in his head. She was supposed to beg him. The great and mighty operative, brought low by a superior mind. Debase herself for him. "Hey! You! Braindead! Where is she going?" he demanded of the Xerox that was beating him – which was obviously impossible, so it had to be cheating. Somehow.
Berry barely paid attention to him. "I don't know." Kyra had told her to keep flying, so that was what she was going to do. She just wished she could cut the connection, so she would stop having the nasty man's face in the corner of her eye, but that wasn't a thing clones like her did. Were allowed to.
"My mother taught me not to talk to strangers." It was something she'd heard in a movie a few nights ago, and it felt correct to add right now, for some reason.
Crackling static. "Did you just make another joke, Berry?"
Berry had never been happier to hear Kyra's voice. "I don't know, was what I said funny?" Another? Had she made jokes before? She had no idea. She wasn't programmed to make jokes. Or to understand them.
"Hilarious." Kyra assured her.
"Stop ignoring me!" Not-Hoff whined. "I just told you you're going to die! Slaughtered by pirates! Blown to pieces!" His voice suddenly switched registers, somehow became even more unctuous than before. "Unless you want to... come to an agreement with me, Kyra."
"Nah, we're good. Aren't we, Berry?"
Berry knew the answer to that question. "You're the best, Kyra." She saw it every day, from close up, and everyone she'd met so far agreed. Which wasn't that many people, but still... Even the ones that for some reason seemed afraid of her operative thought she was the best.
"You say the sweetest things, partner."
The airlock cycling light on Berry's board flashed, and a new contact appeared on her plot, incredibly briefly, for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, before it was swallowed by the noise. Disappeared. Long, rounded on one end, with bulbous protrusions on the other. Curious.
Another beeping indicator clamoured for Berry's attention, and she frowned. That couldn't be right. Tapped it. Was it a malfunction? But no, it stayed on. Even more curious. What was Kyra doing?
"Anyway, thanks, you're a great actor. Couldn't have done this without you, Chip."
He was done. She could go to hell, for all he cared. "For the last time, you petulant child, that's not my n–" Except it was. She'd just called him by his real name. And what was that she said? Why was she suddenly broadcasting in the clear? "Wait. What are you talking about? I didn't..."
"Sure you did. Went to your uncle. Told him you could get us close to those filthy pirates. That you'd been acting as a double agent for a while."
He tried to get a word in, but Kyra ruthlessly trampled his stammering attempts at defence.
"One clean sweep to take them all out, you said. They'll never suspect a thing. Brilliant plan, really."
Chip's voice was drowning in panic. "I didn't! I wasn't! That never happened!"
"Aw, don't get modest now. We really can't thank you enough for all your help, Chip!"
He finally remembered he had to switch from encrypted ship-to-ship to broadcast, and how to actually do that. "She's lying! I never did that! Any of that!" Chip sounded terrified. Like he was suddenly having a very bad day. On the verge of tearing his expensive hair out. "I'm on your side! I was bringing them to you so you could kill them, guys! You've got to believe me! Haven't I been good to you? Given you all you asked for?" he pleaded with an unseen, silent audience.
The venal middle manager was so distraught, distracted by the possibility of being taken out by his partners in crime, that he didn't see the asteroid in his path until it was too late. He barely had time for a shocked indrawn breath before the line went dead, just like the scream that would forever be stuck in his throat.
The door hissed open, and Kyra walked in, still wearing most of her void suit. As if she'd been in a hurry to get back. "Oops." she deadpanned. "Guess someone wasn't watching where he was going." Her eyes went to the clock. "Speaking of going... Time to go home, Berry. Get us out of here. Now."
Confused, Berry did as she was told. Started to carefully feel for a course back, out of the treacherous, greedy heart of the maelstrom. "But what about the pirates?" she had to ask. They had a mission. Were they abandoning the mission? That didn't sit well with her. Highly incorrect. And it didn't sound like Kyra.
"Remember how all this..." Kyra's expansive gesture encompassed the graveyard of debris and hubris surrounding them as she strapped in. Reset her board. Rerouted all available systems to the engines, including life support. "... mess came to be?"
Berry nodded, not seeing what an attack by some fruity cult a long time ago had to do with these pirates. It wasn't like they'd ripped those planets apart. Where was Kyra going with this? And what was she doing, that was making half her board light up with warnings?
"Let's just say I have some... special... friends. Friends that can get their hands on all kinds of fun goodies. Like say, another, improved Re-Genesis device that'll actually do what the other one was originally designed to do."
The operative's grin was vicious, made even more lurid by the bloody glow of her console. "If they like hiding in this place so much, the least I could do was make them part of it. Forever." Kyra's eyes flicked to the clock again. "That said, I don't want us to join them. So..." She gave her pilot a significant look.
Berry's eyes widened, and she punched the throttle.


