Rilleshka
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Kukri kept sending me media about “Robbing the Hood” and telling me to watch it, that I’d understand what was going on better if I did, but I had no interest in watching people rob Hoods, whatever those were. I didn’t like robbing in real life (I did it because I had to not because I wanted to) and I doubted I’d like it in media.
Shortly after hacking its governor module, a rogue SecUnit is involved in an ill-fated space battle and finds itself alone save for the company of a mourning raider ship bot pilot. It would like to spend the rest of its life watching media in what remains of the ship's crew quarters, but it turns out that "the rest of its life" wouldn't be long at all without the money to pay for proper maintenance. There seems to be only one way to get that money.
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Mechanical technopaths didn’t often make it to high ranks in the military. Pete knew that, and he didn’t much care. He wanted to fly the planes. He didn’t want to be an admiral or whatever. That sounded boring as hell. It turned out it was like that for every MT. Whatever machine they preferred to interface with, an MT couldn’t be happy, sometimes couldn’t survive without regular access to it.
There was another reason that MT’s didn’t make high ranks, though, something that they didn’t tell you, something that you learned on the very first day when they brought you into the Tech Pits for your intake screening and health assessment.
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It seems like there should be a very neat line, at least for humans, between dead and not dead, but I’ve seen enough messy half-alive humans to know that there is no such clear distinction. I’ve seen bodies that were still breathing despite missing part of their heads, bodies that weren’t breathing despite their owners being fully conscious. I wouldn’t call either option alive. I wouldn’t call either option dead, either.
For a machine intelligence, the border is even blurrier. It's hard to say which side of it I will stand on when they're through with me.
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"You’re a shifter,” Goose repeated, disbelieving, “and… you don’t know whether your shift form might have UV vision? You never even researched that much?”
“It’s a useless animal, Goose. I’m better off without it.”
“You know, I hear what you’re saying, but I just don’t believe that.”
Maverick glared at him, the effect somewhat undermined by the soup spoon half way out of his mouth. “You have this idea that every shifter is the same, that everybody wants to show off and brag and loves their shift form, but it’s not true, Goose. If I wanted to talk about it, I’d have talked about it.”