[Ficlet] 2445
Title: 2445
Fandom: DCU
Rating: G
Characters: Booster Gold, Skeets, Ted Kord
Notes: Truncated version of a fairly long Ted Kord fic I was working on, but I gutted it to get to the meat of the issue. I suppose I'll go back to it someday.
In DCU, to die, means to get lost in time.
A man moved through the dark apartment. It was cramped, filled with projects and junk; his droids were used in a number of high security places all over the world. The name he once had was long forgotten, cast aside for a name he stole off a deceased infant with no known relatives: Sean Klein.
Sean was an inventor. He spent his days holed up in his tiny apartment building and designing the newest advacements to security and law enforcement every day. Klein Industries was born, a buisness lead by a man with a thick greying beard and thinning hair.
In the 25th century, people remained youthful and beautiful and slim well into their 70's. Sean was in his 50's and had let himself age as naturally as possible. Girls, he found, actually liked his potbelly, but Sean never got married despite a few serious girlfriends and boyfriends.
There was always something missing in Sean's life that kept him from finding true happiness, he told people.
Sean waved a hand at the TV, pulling at an intangible string of power and it powered on with a delicate hum. He gestured again, selecting the news channel with a simple flick o his wrist. "Lights," he called into the darkness, and slowly his laboratory illuminated, the light magnified by the sheets of metal leaning against the walls. A droid lay unfinished on the work table and Sean stretched and slipped on his readers before sinking onto his workstool and resuming his work.
"Controversy at Gotham University today, as a student is charged for illegal gambling."
Sean lifted his head when he heard the news report, turning towards the screen, an eyebrow raised in curiousity.
"Gotham University's own football star, Michael Jon Carter was caught and arrested last night for participating in a ring of gambling that involved betting on his own games. Michael Carter, who was a junior, pled guilty."
By now the news had Sean's full attention, and he abandoned his work to watch the woman talk about the young man who would, though no one in this time knew it, become one of the greatest heroes of the past.
"Michael, also known as Booster to his teammates and peers.."
A sad smile played on Sean's lips and he turned his attention back to the project on his table, listening to the news report with slightly less interest than before.
Sean turned a screw, opening up the droid to reveal the cavity that would become it's brain. He pressed his lips together. "Okay little buddy, let's try upgrading your AI, and see if that keeps you from attacking your human coworkers, hm?" Sean rubbed the palm of his hands together and turned to the tablet imbedded straight into the work surface.
"Let's see, the last model was 33.74, so now you'll be 33.75." Sean made a few indistinct gestures, typing the name out on the screen with just a few swipes of his hand.
"SK-33.75," the screen blinked back at him.
Sean, in his younger days certainly dabbled with computers, and he had taken to the habit of trying to make words from the names of his projects and prototypes. He mulled over the numbers in front of him, matching numbers to letters and coming up with, "CCGE," which spelt nothing. He remembered the old style l337 speak of his youth and tried that instead.
"Skuh... Skee... Skeets. Skeets," Sean sounded the name out and he smiled at the absurdity of the word. "Alright. Skeets it is then."
Skeets, because he was a prototype, was never supposed to leave the laboratory, but Sean made the special effort to pack the security droid in a specially made chassis with the order for the Metropolis Museum of History. Skeets, specially designed with an advanced AI system and an upgradable processor, despite being several years older, was let loose with the other droids in the museum.
Skeets, on the surface had a completely standard operating system, but a single blast was all it needed to override the basic programming - and a single blast was all the janitor managed that one fateful night when he stole the security droid and took off in a time sphere.
"Hey Skeets! Guess what I found?!" Booster called from one of the many closets in Rip Hunter's time laboratory.
"What is that, sir?"
Booster was holding up a golden egg shaped object, it's edges worn and scratched from years of abuse and neglect. "It's your old chassis! How about we get you back into this thing?"
"No thank you. The man who made me had absolutely no taste," the security droid chirped.
"Who made you, anyway?" Booster asked, turning the egg around in his hand, before popping it open. "Even for a 25th century droid you had a really advanced AI."
"Sean Klein of Klein industries circa 2445," Skeets responded, floating over to peer down at his old body.
Booster's brow furrowed as he noticed something engraved into the inside of the chassis. There were several design model words laser inscribed on the inside, which was expected: copyright, manufacturing date, serial number, but there was a set of other words, crooked and illmatched to the rest. He dusted it off, fingers running over the crudely carved words.
"Booster. Good luck out there. This is my first and last gift to you. Your old pal, Ted. 2445AD."
Fandom: DCU
Rating: G
Characters: Booster Gold, Skeets, Ted Kord
Notes: Truncated version of a fairly long Ted Kord fic I was working on, but I gutted it to get to the meat of the issue. I suppose I'll go back to it someday.
In DCU, to die, means to get lost in time.
A man moved through the dark apartment. It was cramped, filled with projects and junk; his droids were used in a number of high security places all over the world. The name he once had was long forgotten, cast aside for a name he stole off a deceased infant with no known relatives: Sean Klein.
Sean was an inventor. He spent his days holed up in his tiny apartment building and designing the newest advacements to security and law enforcement every day. Klein Industries was born, a buisness lead by a man with a thick greying beard and thinning hair.
In the 25th century, people remained youthful and beautiful and slim well into their 70's. Sean was in his 50's and had let himself age as naturally as possible. Girls, he found, actually liked his potbelly, but Sean never got married despite a few serious girlfriends and boyfriends.
There was always something missing in Sean's life that kept him from finding true happiness, he told people.
Sean waved a hand at the TV, pulling at an intangible string of power and it powered on with a delicate hum. He gestured again, selecting the news channel with a simple flick o his wrist. "Lights," he called into the darkness, and slowly his laboratory illuminated, the light magnified by the sheets of metal leaning against the walls. A droid lay unfinished on the work table and Sean stretched and slipped on his readers before sinking onto his workstool and resuming his work.
"Controversy at Gotham University today, as a student is charged for illegal gambling."
Sean lifted his head when he heard the news report, turning towards the screen, an eyebrow raised in curiousity.
"Gotham University's own football star, Michael Jon Carter was caught and arrested last night for participating in a ring of gambling that involved betting on his own games. Michael Carter, who was a junior, pled guilty."
By now the news had Sean's full attention, and he abandoned his work to watch the woman talk about the young man who would, though no one in this time knew it, become one of the greatest heroes of the past.
"Michael, also known as Booster to his teammates and peers.."
A sad smile played on Sean's lips and he turned his attention back to the project on his table, listening to the news report with slightly less interest than before.
Sean turned a screw, opening up the droid to reveal the cavity that would become it's brain. He pressed his lips together. "Okay little buddy, let's try upgrading your AI, and see if that keeps you from attacking your human coworkers, hm?" Sean rubbed the palm of his hands together and turned to the tablet imbedded straight into the work surface.
"Let's see, the last model was 33.74, so now you'll be 33.75." Sean made a few indistinct gestures, typing the name out on the screen with just a few swipes of his hand.
"SK-33.75," the screen blinked back at him.
Sean, in his younger days certainly dabbled with computers, and he had taken to the habit of trying to make words from the names of his projects and prototypes. He mulled over the numbers in front of him, matching numbers to letters and coming up with, "CCGE," which spelt nothing. He remembered the old style l337 speak of his youth and tried that instead.
"Skuh... Skee... Skeets. Skeets," Sean sounded the name out and he smiled at the absurdity of the word. "Alright. Skeets it is then."
Skeets, because he was a prototype, was never supposed to leave the laboratory, but Sean made the special effort to pack the security droid in a specially made chassis with the order for the Metropolis Museum of History. Skeets, specially designed with an advanced AI system and an upgradable processor, despite being several years older, was let loose with the other droids in the museum.
Skeets, on the surface had a completely standard operating system, but a single blast was all it needed to override the basic programming - and a single blast was all the janitor managed that one fateful night when he stole the security droid and took off in a time sphere.
"Hey Skeets! Guess what I found?!" Booster called from one of the many closets in Rip Hunter's time laboratory.
"What is that, sir?"
Booster was holding up a golden egg shaped object, it's edges worn and scratched from years of abuse and neglect. "It's your old chassis! How about we get you back into this thing?"
"No thank you. The man who made me had absolutely no taste," the security droid chirped.
"Who made you, anyway?" Booster asked, turning the egg around in his hand, before popping it open. "Even for a 25th century droid you had a really advanced AI."
"Sean Klein of Klein industries circa 2445," Skeets responded, floating over to peer down at his old body.
Booster's brow furrowed as he noticed something engraved into the inside of the chassis. There were several design model words laser inscribed on the inside, which was expected: copyright, manufacturing date, serial number, but there was a set of other words, crooked and illmatched to the rest. He dusted it off, fingers running over the crudely carved words.
"Booster. Good luck out there. This is my first and last gift to you. Your old pal, Ted. 2445AD."