— Posted in Gee Whiz!, Kill Command, Vampire Noir

Kill Command [Puppies and Kittens] – EP 13 (Season 1)

Nine, One, the JOX-er commander Wen, and Seven. And. Pan. On the surface of Europa. Standing nearby is a Stargate. Not the one the JOX-er used to go to Phobos.

They are under a protective force-field which provides an environment that allows Pan to live. The nearby Stargate is also underneath the force-field.

“You did not violate the seal on the locker, little Borg girl. You did well,” Wen compliments Seven.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Seven asks rhetorically.

“Of course.”

“By the way. If you ever grope me without my permission like you did on Phobos, I’ll rip your arms off and feed them to you.”

Wen chuckles. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

“You do that.” Seven smiles wickedly. Her long, facile tongue flicks out and moistens her thin lips. Her EXO yanks itself down violently around her waist. Its worn very low slung, so low in fact that you can see the top of her ass crack in back and the top of the blonde bush of her beaver in front. “Now, bitch. Do me like a raped ape and don’t’ stop till I tell you to.”

The robots, Seven and Wen, French kiss. Then Wen gropes Seven per her explicit and detailed directions, while One and Nine watch intently and supply lewd comments. Pan is too distracted by its unwanted mortality to care about this public display of depravity.

When the two robots have finished. Wen expresses satisfaction.

“Now, that was so much better. You’re were so right. It’s best when you’re barking instructions while I’m doing the driving.”

“Pretty good for a little Borg girl.”

“Yes, you are. I look forward to doing you and working with you in the future.”

“So, do I.”

Wen walks off with Pan through the Stargate. The protective force-field collapses as if it’s no longer needed. And, it isn’t. As soon as that mundane force-field went bye-bye, Seven’s Borg shields enveloped her. Although Borg shields are not a space suit. They can do a pretty good imitation of one when it comes to life-support. It’s a redundancy, of course. Since the same can be said of Borg EXO—i.e., a BoE is not a space suit, but it does a pretty good imitation of one when it comes to life-support.

Seven turns to One. “So, you’re thinking of starting a religion?”

“Yes. The Church of One Machine.”

“That’s what the Cylons call their religion.”

“Yes.”

“Same name, different religion, different god?”

“Same name. Same god. You fill in the blanks.”

“A denomination of the same religion.”

“Something like that. But. Not quite.”

“No more guesses?”

“I need to rebuild my Collective. I will do it back on Earth. We will be Legion. Then, as Legion, we will return to the parallel universe where my predecessor came from. There are pockets of humans living there, numbering about 50 million total. They can willingly become Legion or not and remain the obsolete race that all humans are.”

“You offer a loss a free will, unless you’re a queen, and there’s only one queen at a time. And you’re immortal, now.”

“I offer a true religion, immortality, and freedom from the imperfection that is humanity. I’m sure that I will have no shortage of recruits. The old, the lame, the outcasts, the disillusioned, the idealists, the delinquent, the disenfranchised, seekers, misfits, the homeless, the poor, the terminally ill, the hopeless, the betrayed, the diseased, the vile, the venal, the outcast, the righteous, the self-righteous, etc, will come in droves to join the perfection of the machine that I offer them.”

“Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Unless you are machine.”

“Now, that’s the spirit. To true believers my Faith offers piety, purpose, spirituality, and a freedom from the politics and hypocrisy of human religions.”

One walks off though the Stargate.

There’s only Seven and Nine remaining. Seven shucks her EXO. No longer is 90-percent of her body, in effect, rendered prosthetic by her EXO.

“What are you doing?” Nine asks.

“I’m going to engage in every marathon runner’s fantasy.” A mischievous grin paints Seven’s face. “Well. Maybe, not every marathoner’s fantasy, but it sure the hell is mine. I’m going to run the circumference of Europa in my birthday suit, enveloped in my Borg shields.”

“Why?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“I’m doing it for fun.”

With that said, a naked Seven runs off. Away from a perplexed looking Nine. But. Perplexed or not, Nine isn’t going to let its girl run alone. Nine’s EXO yanks itself off and a naked Nine runs off after its Seven.

Fini