Jericho: WtTDS excerpt III ...

Two more recharge cycles came and went. The fighting outside the hull had lessened and lessened to nothing. The only sound was the hum of the engines, and a great deal of sound produced several decks below. YZ-6771 knew that biological sentients often had gatherings involving consumption of large amounts of alcohol and making a great deal of similar noise. These were called parties or celebrations. Either way, something had happened to cause the biologicals to have a party, maybe they celebrated the end of the fighting. The fight they had started. YZ-6771 listened to the noise, he recorded what he heard and analyzed it as he recorded more. He found 672 seperate voices. He knew there were likely sentients in the crew who didn't communicate via sound. Each voice, although muted, was distinct. He began to note what each voice said, he was getting to know his new masters. In the cacophany, he found the voice of the short, fangy pirate named Dom. But, Dom was quite drunk and after only a half hour of listening, YZ-6771 could not find Dom's voice any longer. He found the voice of the tall pirate, he labled him Pirate1 until he learned his proper name. Pirate1 lasted for quite a while, but within four hours, the general noise had died to nearly nothing and Pirate1 could be heard snoring, albeit faintly.

A few hours later a young, nearly clean cut human came into the room. He found the droids standing at attention and at full power. He wore a simple navy blue coverall with the sleeves torn off. He also wore a red bandana with black skull over his hair and a master cuff on his wrist. The master cuff allowed him to command the droids if they refused his orders. In that case the interface installed some four days ago would connect them to the central computer and they would be instantly reprogrammed. However, this unit of droids had not been uncooperative. The young pirate looked at the droids as if appraising them, then said "Youse all on clean up detail. Git yer hides four decks up and clean all dem bunks!"

YZ-6771 led the droids out of their room and to the nearest elevator. It was a short ride four decks up. Along the way, he registered the young pirate's voice. He had been one of the least drunk sounding a few hours ago and had only been around the party for a few minutes. He had been labeled "Pirate137" - but, he had a nametag on his coverall; Garn. YZ-6771 renamed the young pirate in his database for future refference. When the elevator arrived, he lead his charges out into the intersection of three corridors. Immediately his duty became clear. The corridors were a festering mess. Piles of litter, food waste, broken bottles and other unidetifiables flowed down both walls of the corridors in every direction. Here and there lay what might be dead but were most likely passed out pirates. His cleaning subroutines asserted themselves and took priority. He assigned two droids to find receptacles, he assigned another two to find brooms and brushes and the last two to gather hot water or other cleaning fluids. He began to rouse the pirates, requesting them to find other resting places, all but one complied.

The last unmoving pirate was indeed dead. YZ-6771 stood by and activated his "service required" beacon. Within a minute, Garn was on the scene. YZ-6771 merely gestured to the down pirate. Garn grunted and swore, then said "Git back at work, droid." with a dismissive wave. YZ-6771 returned to the task of administering the now gathering droids with their varied cleaning implements.

Trash was collected and hauled away to the incinerator in over large green plastic bags. Boiling hot water and harsh chemicals were splashed on the walls and deck plates. Blood and other bodily fluids were washed away. Within a few hours, the corridors had been restored to within his programmed parameters; YZ-6771 gathered his unit and headed into the first room of bunks.

The bunks were filled to capacity with dirty, alcohol soaked, often bloody bodies. All the bodies seemed to be passed out, most snored or made other noises in their sleep. No zoo in this quadrant produced this much noise and only a tenth of the pirate infantry was housed in this hold, one thousand troopers.

Two sets of conflicting programing each tried to take priority. One set of programing analyzeded the filth in the room, the trash, food tins and bodily waste in every corner and insisted it needed to be purged for the health of the crew. The other set of programming knew that these beings were excessivly taxed, exhausted. They needed their rest. Above both sets of programming had been the order from Garn to clean the bunks. With the decision made, YZ-6771 looked around the room and soon found what he sought. On the far wall was the fire suppression system control. As he hoped, it was water based, expensive for a spacegoing warship, but the easiest to install and maintain. YZ-6771 walked across the room, careful to not step on any limbs, wings, tentacles or fronds. Upon reaching the control, he promptly activated it. The water immediately began to rain down in every corner of the room, removing a layer of grime from the metal walls and decks. At the same time a general alarm arose from the now awake warriors. Many made for the doors, fearing a fire in their quarters. Now, the quarters could be properly cleaned, the dominant set of YZ-6771's programming surmised.

That would have been true, except for the remaining few recently awakened pirates, who were now on their feet and furious. A few had weapons drawn, pointing at the droids.

Two pirates stepped toward YZ-6771; the tall pirate, Pirate1 and his friend, Dom. "Why'er we wet, Dom?" asked Pirate1.

"Dunno," snorted a sopping wet Dom, "peraps we should ask himself that turned on the fire sprinkies. Whatcha think, Bilk?" YZ-6771 immediately updated his growing database with the confirmed name of Pirate1 - "Bilk".

"Dom, I think you haves a point. Oy! Droid! TURN OFF THE BLASTING WATER!" Bilk bellowed. YZ-6771 immediately followed the new order as its volume indicated it as an executive override. The water flow slowed to a trickle that tinkled from the ceiling. Eight heavily armed beings stood in the hold that housed a thousand with their weapons trained on six unarmed light labor droids. Dom and Bilk stood in the near silence measuring up the seventh droid, YZ-6771. Faster than even YZ-6771's computer brain could react, Bilk was on top of him, lifting him by his neck cowling up against the wall, holding YZ-6771 a foot off the swamped deck. "Why am I standing here WET? Why did you FRAKESING WAKE ALL OF US?!"

Unsure of what to do, having never been picked up by an angry employer, wondering if his service expectancy was about to be shortened, YZ-6771 did the only thing he could surmize: he replayed the recorded voice of Garn, ordering him and this unit to clean the bunks, over his external speaker. As he watched, the look in Bilk's eyes changed. Bilk moved his arm and YZ-6771 flew across the room, crashing into a pile of old mattresses and pillows. "Fix this!" Bilk pointed at the sprawled droid, "Clean and dry up dis whole mess, or I won'ta be sa'nice when I git back." Bilk stalked out of the room, followed by Dom and the other pirates, stowing their weapons.

YZ-6771 stood and ran a low level diagnostic. The pillows had broken his fall and he was fully functional. He had his orders and he immediately set the other droids to task. It took four hours, but the tireless machines had the barracks hold in the best shape it had been in years. Decks gleamed, walls shined, mattresses were coated with enzyme sprays - these had removed anything organic, leaving behind the artificial fibers and foam rubber. In short, the room was clean and dry, well within programmed parameters.

The droids trooped to the next barracks. Upon their arrival, the occupants all began protest and complain loudly but one by one and in small groups they filed out, a few shoving the droids as they passed. In less than five minutes, the room was empty of sentients. Again the barracks cleaning unit set to work, starting with the fire suppression system showering the space as the droids performed general trash pick up. Then cleaning sollutions were applied and once again, nearly four hours later, the barracks were sparkling clean. Two down, eight to go.

A standard day and a half later, all the barracks had been returned to within safety parameters for organic life. YZ-6771 and his unit returned to the first barracks to tidy up the damage done n the last 40 or so hours. Standing outside the barracks when they arrived was the young human, Garn. His face was a surrealist painting of bruises. YZ-6771 observed that Garn had a higher than normal body temperature and appeared to be dehydrated. Garn pressed a button on his master cuff and the droids immedialy halted and came to attention in front of him. He approached YZ-6771, and stood with his nose nearly touching the droid's optic sensor. "You," Garn said, "you, me plastic friend is ta blame fer the state o'me face." With that, Garn wound back and threw a full force punch directly into the optics of YZ-6771. The light bodied droid went sliding across the deck and bounced off the far wall, sparks issuing from his head as he flew. "You lot!" Garn pointed at the other droids, "Yer on KP, go help cookie. And you," Garn spun around to face the sprawled form of YZ-6771, "git your tin foil butt to the repair bay. Tells'em to put it on me tab."