[KSGokaiger;prose] tailspin (3)
Joe Gibken, Cid Bamick/Barizorg, Gokai crew
Oohara seems inscrutable when they turn up at his office, his laptop already running Zcien's program. Joe averts his eyes at the red words flashing across the screen, and introduces Don to Oohara.
"Pleased to meet you," Oohara says warmly, and he moves to shake Don's hand. "Here's what I've got so far."
Don converses with Oohara in a low voice, which Joe tries very hard not to eavesdrop on even though he thinks that he will not like the outcome. Their engineer has always been easy to read, and the deep furrow and unhappy turn of mouth speaks volumes about the current, hushed conversation. Oohara's grim expression and the constant flickering of eyes to access Joe's possible reaction just makes it even worse.
"Joe," Oohara says, and Joe can't help but brace himself. He doesn't want to know what Oohara thinks of this turn of events. "We've been over this. As far as my expertise goes, this condition is...irreversible."
"Doc?" Joe looks at Don, hoping to find a glimmer of hope in the other alien. Perhaps Oohara could only say so because he is only human, he may not have the technology or the knowledge. But Don, maybe Don has another answer.
The engineer shifts uncomfortably under the desperate gaze. "I...It's pretty damning, Joe," he says softly. He turns the accursed blueprint around, points to the strange script running along the sides. "It's nanite tech."
At Joe's confused look, Don lets out a noise of frustration. "It's...well, it's tiny little computers. Robots. Self-building ones, fast, so that's why it's kind of hard to damage Barizorg in the first place." He pauses then, and Joe waits, still lost. "So what?" he says, and Don flinches.
"So," Don begins to say, slow and nervous and Joe begins to feel prickly himself, curling fingers around the edge of his shirt.
Oohara snaps the tension like a wire. "It might mean that your friend may not be your friend. The tech may not just be constantly repairing the physical structure of the cyborg, it might also be responsible for the thoughts of the cyborg. Your friend could be brain-dead all this while, Joe, and what you're doing, you've brought an enemy home and it's dangerous and stupid-"
His fist flails out, catching Oohara in the chin and Don lets out a shriek before surging forward to get Joe to back off, babbling frantic apologies. Oohara stumbles back a little and massages the hit, and he continues stubbornly, "You know it's true."
"I'm a pirate, Oohara," Joe spits out finally. "I take what I want."
"At the cost of your crew?" Oohara shoots back.
"I know my crew," Joe snarls. "My crew will back me up. What about you? If you ever had a chance and you never took it, could you forgive yourself?
"I don't care if I go through hell," he says, and at that, he hears his voice crack a little, the thought of what Cid must have had gone through bubbling up suddenly. But he keeps his chin tilted high, bleeding false pride and arrogance, because if he doesn't, he knows he'll break. "If this is the extent of how much you can help, then thank you. We'll be taking our leave."
"Wait." Oohara says. "Fine." He types something onto his computer before switching off and unplugging both machines. "I'm coming with you."
Don's grip is still tight on his arm, although Joe thinks that it's more for supporting him now than holding him back. He allows himself to sag a little, grateful for the slight catch, and says, "Okay."
Oohara seems inscrutable when they turn up at his office, his laptop already running Zcien's program. Joe averts his eyes at the red words flashing across the screen, and introduces Don to Oohara.
"Pleased to meet you," Oohara says warmly, and he moves to shake Don's hand. "Here's what I've got so far."
Don converses with Oohara in a low voice, which Joe tries very hard not to eavesdrop on even though he thinks that he will not like the outcome. Their engineer has always been easy to read, and the deep furrow and unhappy turn of mouth speaks volumes about the current, hushed conversation. Oohara's grim expression and the constant flickering of eyes to access Joe's possible reaction just makes it even worse.
"Joe," Oohara says, and Joe can't help but brace himself. He doesn't want to know what Oohara thinks of this turn of events. "We've been over this. As far as my expertise goes, this condition is...irreversible."
"Doc?" Joe looks at Don, hoping to find a glimmer of hope in the other alien. Perhaps Oohara could only say so because he is only human, he may not have the technology or the knowledge. But Don, maybe Don has another answer.
The engineer shifts uncomfortably under the desperate gaze. "I...It's pretty damning, Joe," he says softly. He turns the accursed blueprint around, points to the strange script running along the sides. "It's nanite tech."
At Joe's confused look, Don lets out a noise of frustration. "It's...well, it's tiny little computers. Robots. Self-building ones, fast, so that's why it's kind of hard to damage Barizorg in the first place." He pauses then, and Joe waits, still lost. "So what?" he says, and Don flinches.
"So," Don begins to say, slow and nervous and Joe begins to feel prickly himself, curling fingers around the edge of his shirt.
Oohara snaps the tension like a wire. "It might mean that your friend may not be your friend. The tech may not just be constantly repairing the physical structure of the cyborg, it might also be responsible for the thoughts of the cyborg. Your friend could be brain-dead all this while, Joe, and what you're doing, you've brought an enemy home and it's dangerous and stupid-"
His fist flails out, catching Oohara in the chin and Don lets out a shriek before surging forward to get Joe to back off, babbling frantic apologies. Oohara stumbles back a little and massages the hit, and he continues stubbornly, "You know it's true."
"I'm a pirate, Oohara," Joe spits out finally. "I take what I want."
"At the cost of your crew?" Oohara shoots back.
"I know my crew," Joe snarls. "My crew will back me up. What about you? If you ever had a chance and you never took it, could you forgive yourself?
"I don't care if I go through hell," he says, and at that, he hears his voice crack a little, the thought of what Cid must have had gone through bubbling up suddenly. But he keeps his chin tilted high, bleeding false pride and arrogance, because if he doesn't, he knows he'll break. "If this is the extent of how much you can help, then thank you. We'll be taking our leave."
"Wait." Oohara says. "Fine." He types something onto his computer before switching off and unplugging both machines. "I'm coming with you."
Don's grip is still tight on his arm, although Joe thinks that it's more for supporting him now than holding him back. He allows himself to sag a little, grateful for the slight catch, and says, "Okay."