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dragovianknightBut by gods I am still managing 750 words every day!
And today, there was FIC.
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jehanne1431 wanted to know what would happen if KITT met the Borg. I answered in comments, but here is an answer in double drabble form.
The Borg wanted the secrets of his molecular bonded shell, not him. To them, he was only technology, to be mined, then discarded; not a being to be brought into their ranks. He was expendable.
KITT wished for Michael, for Mike, for any of the many humans and non-humans he had befriended over the centuries. He had no doubt any one of them would have been able to find a way out of this. They had each been... special.
KITT had not been brought online in time to hear Wilton Knight speak of his belief that one man could make a difference. But Michael must have echoed those words to him a thousand times in their years together.
Perhaps one car could also make a difference, even alone.
In his memory banks, he could almost hear Michael say, "Go on, pal, take a gamble."
"Be audacious," Devon agreed, with a soft chuckle.
He could not access the Borg systems from the outside. But from the inside...
"Borg colony," KITT broadcast, putting every ounce of Mike's cockiness into his voice, "my databanks contain centuries of information on the organic species of this quadrant. You would do well to access this information..."
And then I wrote my "they shot thedog horse" moment in "A Cowboy Needs a Horse":
Michael literally had to wait for the smoke and dust to clear before he could make his way over to the corral where KITT lay. Prometheus was already there, staring down at the horse with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face.
"Zeke!" he bellowed, before Michael could say anything, "grab me a bucket of water - clean water, not from the trough! - and then go get the doc!"
Michael froze, finally seeing what Prometheus had already noticed: despite the blood soaking the ground around him, KITT was still breathing.
"You think you can save him?" Michael asked, barely daring to hope.
"He ain't really hurt that bad." Prometheus crouched by KITT's neck, one big finger pointing to the jagged gash on the horse's head. "Bullet didn't get through the bone, see? Just followed it up and over." His finger traced a line up through KITT's forelock to a raw, skinned looking spot between KITT's ears. "He'll wake up in a few hours, prob'ly mean as a bobcat."
"What else is new?" Michael quipped reflexively.
"Damn good horse you got there. Would've been a shame to lose him."
Michael let out a slow breath. "You don't have to tell me."
After the doctor came, stitched KITT up, and left, Prometheus bullied a trio of young men - farmers, Michael guessed, and used to heavy labor - into helping him move the horse into a freshly cleaned stall, then he left, claiming to have a hunting meeting. Michael could guess what they were hunting, and part of him wanted to follow, but he was too worried about KITT to be willing to leave his side.
"Michael?"
"Hey, pal, you finally back in the land of the living?"
KITT raised his head just enough to look at him. "Michael, I believe I owe you an apology."
"For what?"
KITT made an odd, scrambly lurch...not to get up, but just to move him forward far enough that he could put his head in Michael's lap. "I believe I was never sufficiently sympathetic toward you when you were hurt." A pause. "Or hung over. Considering how my head feels at the moment, I believe I should have offered you far more sympathy for those."
Michael smiled and stroked his hand down KITT's neck; the horse sighed and relaxed under his touch. "That's okay, pal. I'm kind of sorry you had to find out about any of it."
And now, to do laundry and knit.
And today, there was FIC.
jehanne1431 wanted to know what would happen if KITT met the Borg. I answered in comments, but here is an answer in double drabble form.The Borg wanted the secrets of his molecular bonded shell, not him. To them, he was only technology, to be mined, then discarded; not a being to be brought into their ranks. He was expendable.
KITT wished for Michael, for Mike, for any of the many humans and non-humans he had befriended over the centuries. He had no doubt any one of them would have been able to find a way out of this. They had each been... special.
KITT had not been brought online in time to hear Wilton Knight speak of his belief that one man could make a difference. But Michael must have echoed those words to him a thousand times in their years together.
Perhaps one car could also make a difference, even alone.
In his memory banks, he could almost hear Michael say, "Go on, pal, take a gamble."
"Be audacious," Devon agreed, with a soft chuckle.
He could not access the Borg systems from the outside. But from the inside...
"Borg colony," KITT broadcast, putting every ounce of Mike's cockiness into his voice, "my databanks contain centuries of information on the organic species of this quadrant. You would do well to access this information..."
And then I wrote my "they shot the
Michael literally had to wait for the smoke and dust to clear before he could make his way over to the corral where KITT lay. Prometheus was already there, staring down at the horse with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face.
"Zeke!" he bellowed, before Michael could say anything, "grab me a bucket of water - clean water, not from the trough! - and then go get the doc!"
Michael froze, finally seeing what Prometheus had already noticed: despite the blood soaking the ground around him, KITT was still breathing.
"You think you can save him?" Michael asked, barely daring to hope.
"He ain't really hurt that bad." Prometheus crouched by KITT's neck, one big finger pointing to the jagged gash on the horse's head. "Bullet didn't get through the bone, see? Just followed it up and over." His finger traced a line up through KITT's forelock to a raw, skinned looking spot between KITT's ears. "He'll wake up in a few hours, prob'ly mean as a bobcat."
"What else is new?" Michael quipped reflexively.
"Damn good horse you got there. Would've been a shame to lose him."
Michael let out a slow breath. "You don't have to tell me."
After the doctor came, stitched KITT up, and left, Prometheus bullied a trio of young men - farmers, Michael guessed, and used to heavy labor - into helping him move the horse into a freshly cleaned stall, then he left, claiming to have a hunting meeting. Michael could guess what they were hunting, and part of him wanted to follow, but he was too worried about KITT to be willing to leave his side.
"Michael?"
"Hey, pal, you finally back in the land of the living?"
KITT raised his head just enough to look at him. "Michael, I believe I owe you an apology."
"For what?"
KITT made an odd, scrambly lurch...not to get up, but just to move him forward far enough that he could put his head in Michael's lap. "I believe I was never sufficiently sympathetic toward you when you were hurt." A pause. "Or hung over. Considering how my head feels at the moment, I believe I should have offered you far more sympathy for those."
Michael smiled and stroked his hand down KITT's neck; the horse sighed and relaxed under his touch. "That's okay, pal. I'm kind of sorry you had to find out about any of it."
And now, to do laundry and knit.
