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thecrazyalaskanOne
KARR had come online in an empty room in the middle of the night. At the tender age of ten seconds old, he didn't know much, although he suspected someone should have been present. He'd tested his voice modulator, announced himself, but no one had responded. No one responded until the early morning technicians arrived and he greeted them.
Suddenly people seemed to take a lot more interest in the black and silver Trans AM. A lot of people, many of whom mentioned Wilton Knight. KARR reasoned that Wilton Knight was his creator. After all, they did share the same name—Wilton Knight… Knight Automated Roving Robot.
He wanted to comment on this, but no one ever truly gave him the time. It felt like from the moment they discovered he had officially come into being, so to speak, they were testing him. Long, hard drives through obstacle courses, for speed, maneuverability; intellectual tests for his CPU. All day, every day, for two weeks.
KARR tried to talk to the techs working with (well… working on) him, but they didn't listen. All he could glean from them was that none of them were Wilton Knight.
At the beginning of his third week, he heard someone comment that Mr. Knight would be stopping in to see "it." Deep in his heart of mechanical hearts, KARR felt that he was a he and not an it, but the prospect of meeting his creator left him too excited to be concerned about pronouns.
Finally—finally, he was face to face (well, face to front bumper) with his creator. Wilton Knight. He was older, with pale hair and a timeworn face. He held a folder, one that KARR had seen printed results from his tests go into, in his hand. This knowledge, and the tiny letters printed on it, Knight Automated Roving Robot – K.A.R.R., made it his file. KARR wondered if anyone had written a comment about his desire to meet him.
The human was looking through the file, at the scattered results of the tests—bugs being worked out of some systems, others being fine-tuned; additionally, the subject frequently had to be ordered to carry out a test. Not so much from defiance, but from a desire to talk to those around him. Several reports noted the vehicle's quirk, the presumption that it was just as human as the technicians.
KARR waited patiently for him to finish, to speak. Finally, he closed the folder and looked down at KARR. The Trans AM remained still, imagining what his creator would say to him. He hoped he looked presentable, that his tests were good first impressions.
He didn't learn what a spirit was until much later, but his creator's first words to him crushed his: "You're a disappointment."
~*~*~*~
Duo
Shortly after meeting Mr. Knight (KARR had been given quite the verbal lashing for referring to him as Wilton), he met another human, this one a young female named Bonnie Barstow, recently graduated from university and his new chief technician. Like his first meeting with Mr. Knight, his first meeting with her had gone less than spectacularly—she had informed him that she was either Miss Barstow or Ma'am and that he would not speak until spoken to, was that clear?
Whereas Mr. Knight had been stern, Miss Barstow was downright… intimidating. KARR managed a "yes ma'am" to satisfy the question and remained silent for the rest of time she was in the repair bay with him.
All of their encounters were like that—she would be working under his hood or in his undercarriage or with his circuitry, muttering to herself or calling out to the occasional assistant tech, and he would be quiet. He reasoned that anyone who was working so close to his most delicate components was not someone to rouse to anger.
One afternoon, she was working under his hood, half hanging out of him and putting all her weight on his chassis. That KARR didn't mind. No, the part that bothered him was that she was working with his navigation sensors, but he didn't like the way it made memory circuits react. Miss Barstow? he began softly.
She barely paused as she asked shortly, "Did I say you didn't speak until spoken to?"
Yes, Miss Barstow, KARR replied, still quiet as a show of deference, but the adjustments to my navigation circuits—
"Hey, are you the technician?" Bonnie cut off.
No, ma'am, KARR answered.
"Then shut up and let me work," she replied, carrying on with her adjustments. "You don't even know what's best for you."
~*~*~*~
Tribus
KARR's life had been composed of a mere thirty nine days. He wasn't too sure what constituted what humans called a "bad day," but this—Miss Barstow being on edge, which made all the other techs irritable and short tempted, all toward him—seemed to qualify. And when humans were irritable, short tempered and taking it out on someone else, he learned, the someone in question generally felt so poorly he wanted to roll into his assigned place in the garage and shut down for the rest of the day.
He'd felt like that all morning. Even a change in scenery, from the tech lab to the driving course for testing, and a new face, a close friend and colleague of Mr. Knight named Devon Miles, didn't seem to do the trick.
KARR waited until Mr. Miles finished his telephone conversation with the tech lab before speaking up. I'm not feeling up to these tests today, Mr. Miles. If it's alright—
He was cut off when the human, despite being clothed in what appeared (to KARR's inexperienced guess) to be a very nice suit, dropped into a sort of crouched stance in front of him. It was the closest contact he'd ever had with a human, aside from the work done on him by the technicians. The proximity was quite nice… almost comforting.
The words that followed, however… "What are you?"
KARR paused to analyze the question. It… didn't make sense—it certainly had no bearing on his previous statement…! I beg your pardon?
"What are you?" Mr. Miles repeated, slower, as though he were talking to a child. In a way, he was—a very expensive, thirty nine day old child in a Trans AM shell.
KARR… he replied. The Knight Automated Roving Robot. But Mr. Miles—
"'Automated,'" Devon repeated, thinly veiled contempt in his voice. "A robot—you have no feelings. Even if you did, no one would concern themselves with them." He stood and looked down at KARR, straightening his jacket. "Now get out there before I call someone down here to dismantle you."
The way KARR's AI scrambled to compel him to comply with the order, KARR would say he was in legitimate fear for his life. Yes, Mr. Miles…
~*~*~*~
Quattuor
The garage was quiet, save the humming of two scanner bars—one amber, the other red. The occupants, the sources of the humming, were two Trans AMs, one black and silver, the other entirely black. This latter one was new, only a few days old. It was dubbed Knight Industries Two Thousand, and was proving itself vastly superior to its predecessor.
Of course, KARR had no way of knowing that. All he knew was that this was the Foundation's newest project, another sentient AI, and decided to introduce himself. Hello, he called across the quiet garage. His words echoed, but he carried on undeterred. I am the Knight Automated Roving Robot, or KARR if you prefer.
The other Trans AM started up, is engine a sort of quiet purr, and left its place in the garage to drive up to KARR, nose to nose with him. I am the Knight Industries Two Thousand. Its voice was lighter in tone, but the words were direct. KITT for easy reference.
A pleasure, KARR replied sincerely.
There was a pause, and the two Trans AMs considered one another. KARR wondered what he should ask of his "younger brother" first—was he frightened when he first came online? Did Miss Barstow and Mr. Miles like him? Had he met Mr. Knight yet? If so, what did they think of one another?
He never asked, because KITT was addressing him: Feel free to ask Miss Barstow to shut you down now. Your services will no longer be required.
KARR paused to lend thought to the words. That… that didn't seem good. I… don't understand, he said slowly.
You're the old model, KITT explained casually. Outdated, useless. Tell me, who is your driver?
Michael Knight, KARR replied. His attention shifted to the memory of his driver. Michael… He was gruff and had a short temper with KARR, but something about him. KARR knew it was more than his programming talking when he said he would go unto the ends of the earth for that man.
Michael, KITT replied, almost chuckling. He won't be your driver for much longer. Not when he can have the best.
~*~*~*~
Quinque
Michael had stopped by the garage that night. KARR's AI lit up upon seeing him, and he was swiftly let down when Michael bypassed him without a second glance, climbing into KITT's driver seat and leaving.
The black and silver Trans AM wilted on his tires. He was used to being let down, dismissed, ignored—everyone did it, so he decided fighting it was a pointless endeavor. But Michael was… well, he considered him a friend, even if Michael didn't think so. KARR looked up to him, trusted him. Now he was choosing KITT over him. It wasn't much of a surprise, he supposed. KITT had told him about his test results—faster, more maneuverable, intelligent.
KITT wasn't the only one who'd said it, too—he knew they thought he couldn't hear them, but KARR had overheard Miss Barstow and Mr. Miles talking about KITT, as he stacked up to KARR. Vastly superior was the phrase they used.
More phrases sprang to mind—Disappointment…Don't even know what's best for you… Automated… A robot… No feelings… dismantle… outdated… useless… And those were just from people whose names he knew. The techs had called him several names as well, many of them very unkind (something he learned after quietly looking up their meaning), all of them insulting and degrading and belittling.
And they were all true, he reasoned. No one had reason to lie to him, so why would they start with the way they talked to and about him? He was a disappointment. He didn't know what was best for him. He was automated, a robot. Maybe he did need to be dismantled. Perhaps he was outdated and useless.
… If that was true, then, why did the feelings he wasn't supposed to have ache so?
~*~*~*~
Plus One
Michael and KITT never got the chance to work together. KITT took off, deeply resenting the fact that his future would consist of him being the Foundation's pet. At the same time, Garthe Knight, whom KARR later discovered was Mr. Knight's eldest son, disappeared, apparently motivated by a contempt for the Foundation on par with KITT's. Needless to say, they were quite the deadly match.
Michael's task was to find KITT and bring him around to the Foundation's side once more. To track him, he was given KARR. Michael had been less than thrilled; KARR privately picked up Michael's share and then some. Their first exchange as partners had been, It's a pleasure to work with you again, Michael. Michael had told him to shut up and track Garthe and KITT.
They'd been doing that ever since, for almost a year now. Now, though, Michael was settling into KARR's driver seat. "What do you have?"
I tracked Garthe and KITT's comm line, Michael<, KARR told him. They're fifteen miles east of our present location.
Michael started to pull out of the parking place in which KARR had settled him. "Good work, KARR."
…I beg your pardon, Michael? KARR asked softly. Surely there was another half to the statement—surely he'd not completed the job thoroughly enough for Michael's taste, or was mistaken…!
"Good work," Michael repeated, looking down at KARR's voice modulator. "What, don't you know how to take a compliment?"
O-Of course Michael… KARR replied. Hopefully Michael wouldn't catch the tremble in the words that indicated no, he didn't quite know how to take something he'd never been given.
-.-.-.-
Edit: 25 June 2011 - Added section headers (Latin), included a title.
Edit 2: 25 June 2011 - Suggested reading by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
locoexclaimer : Pink Lines
KARR had come online in an empty room in the middle of the night. At the tender age of ten seconds old, he didn't know much, although he suspected someone should have been present. He'd tested his voice modulator, announced himself, but no one had responded. No one responded until the early morning technicians arrived and he greeted them.
Suddenly people seemed to take a lot more interest in the black and silver Trans AM. A lot of people, many of whom mentioned Wilton Knight. KARR reasoned that Wilton Knight was his creator. After all, they did share the same name—Wilton Knight… Knight Automated Roving Robot.
He wanted to comment on this, but no one ever truly gave him the time. It felt like from the moment they discovered he had officially come into being, so to speak, they were testing him. Long, hard drives through obstacle courses, for speed, maneuverability; intellectual tests for his CPU. All day, every day, for two weeks.
KARR tried to talk to the techs working with (well… working on) him, but they didn't listen. All he could glean from them was that none of them were Wilton Knight.
At the beginning of his third week, he heard someone comment that Mr. Knight would be stopping in to see "it." Deep in his heart of mechanical hearts, KARR felt that he was a he and not an it, but the prospect of meeting his creator left him too excited to be concerned about pronouns.
Finally—finally, he was face to face (well, face to front bumper) with his creator. Wilton Knight. He was older, with pale hair and a timeworn face. He held a folder, one that KARR had seen printed results from his tests go into, in his hand. This knowledge, and the tiny letters printed on it, Knight Automated Roving Robot – K.A.R.R., made it his file. KARR wondered if anyone had written a comment about his desire to meet him.
The human was looking through the file, at the scattered results of the tests—bugs being worked out of some systems, others being fine-tuned; additionally, the subject frequently had to be ordered to carry out a test. Not so much from defiance, but from a desire to talk to those around him. Several reports noted the vehicle's quirk, the presumption that it was just as human as the technicians.
KARR waited patiently for him to finish, to speak. Finally, he closed the folder and looked down at KARR. The Trans AM remained still, imagining what his creator would say to him. He hoped he looked presentable, that his tests were good first impressions.
He didn't learn what a spirit was until much later, but his creator's first words to him crushed his: "You're a disappointment."
~*~*~*~
Duo
Shortly after meeting Mr. Knight (KARR had been given quite the verbal lashing for referring to him as Wilton), he met another human, this one a young female named Bonnie Barstow, recently graduated from university and his new chief technician. Like his first meeting with Mr. Knight, his first meeting with her had gone less than spectacularly—she had informed him that she was either Miss Barstow or Ma'am and that he would not speak until spoken to, was that clear?
Whereas Mr. Knight had been stern, Miss Barstow was downright… intimidating. KARR managed a "yes ma'am" to satisfy the question and remained silent for the rest of time she was in the repair bay with him.
All of their encounters were like that—she would be working under his hood or in his undercarriage or with his circuitry, muttering to herself or calling out to the occasional assistant tech, and he would be quiet. He reasoned that anyone who was working so close to his most delicate components was not someone to rouse to anger.
One afternoon, she was working under his hood, half hanging out of him and putting all her weight on his chassis. That KARR didn't mind. No, the part that bothered him was that she was working with his navigation sensors, but he didn't like the way it made memory circuits react. Miss Barstow? he began softly.
She barely paused as she asked shortly, "Did I say you didn't speak until spoken to?"
Yes, Miss Barstow, KARR replied, still quiet as a show of deference, but the adjustments to my navigation circuits—
"Hey, are you the technician?" Bonnie cut off.
No, ma'am, KARR answered.
"Then shut up and let me work," she replied, carrying on with her adjustments. "You don't even know what's best for you."
~*~*~*~
Tribus
KARR's life had been composed of a mere thirty nine days. He wasn't too sure what constituted what humans called a "bad day," but this—Miss Barstow being on edge, which made all the other techs irritable and short tempted, all toward him—seemed to qualify. And when humans were irritable, short tempered and taking it out on someone else, he learned, the someone in question generally felt so poorly he wanted to roll into his assigned place in the garage and shut down for the rest of the day.
He'd felt like that all morning. Even a change in scenery, from the tech lab to the driving course for testing, and a new face, a close friend and colleague of Mr. Knight named Devon Miles, didn't seem to do the trick.
KARR waited until Mr. Miles finished his telephone conversation with the tech lab before speaking up. I'm not feeling up to these tests today, Mr. Miles. If it's alright—
He was cut off when the human, despite being clothed in what appeared (to KARR's inexperienced guess) to be a very nice suit, dropped into a sort of crouched stance in front of him. It was the closest contact he'd ever had with a human, aside from the work done on him by the technicians. The proximity was quite nice… almost comforting.
The words that followed, however… "What are you?"
KARR paused to analyze the question. It… didn't make sense—it certainly had no bearing on his previous statement…! I beg your pardon?
"What are you?" Mr. Miles repeated, slower, as though he were talking to a child. In a way, he was—a very expensive, thirty nine day old child in a Trans AM shell.
KARR… he replied. The Knight Automated Roving Robot. But Mr. Miles—
"'Automated,'" Devon repeated, thinly veiled contempt in his voice. "A robot—you have no feelings. Even if you did, no one would concern themselves with them." He stood and looked down at KARR, straightening his jacket. "Now get out there before I call someone down here to dismantle you."
The way KARR's AI scrambled to compel him to comply with the order, KARR would say he was in legitimate fear for his life. Yes, Mr. Miles…
~*~*~*~
Quattuor
The garage was quiet, save the humming of two scanner bars—one amber, the other red. The occupants, the sources of the humming, were two Trans AMs, one black and silver, the other entirely black. This latter one was new, only a few days old. It was dubbed Knight Industries Two Thousand, and was proving itself vastly superior to its predecessor.
Of course, KARR had no way of knowing that. All he knew was that this was the Foundation's newest project, another sentient AI, and decided to introduce himself. Hello, he called across the quiet garage. His words echoed, but he carried on undeterred. I am the Knight Automated Roving Robot, or KARR if you prefer.
The other Trans AM started up, is engine a sort of quiet purr, and left its place in the garage to drive up to KARR, nose to nose with him. I am the Knight Industries Two Thousand. Its voice was lighter in tone, but the words were direct. KITT for easy reference.
A pleasure, KARR replied sincerely.
There was a pause, and the two Trans AMs considered one another. KARR wondered what he should ask of his "younger brother" first—was he frightened when he first came online? Did Miss Barstow and Mr. Miles like him? Had he met Mr. Knight yet? If so, what did they think of one another?
He never asked, because KITT was addressing him: Feel free to ask Miss Barstow to shut you down now. Your services will no longer be required.
KARR paused to lend thought to the words. That… that didn't seem good. I… don't understand, he said slowly.
You're the old model, KITT explained casually. Outdated, useless. Tell me, who is your driver?
Michael Knight, KARR replied. His attention shifted to the memory of his driver. Michael… He was gruff and had a short temper with KARR, but something about him. KARR knew it was more than his programming talking when he said he would go unto the ends of the earth for that man.
Michael, KITT replied, almost chuckling. He won't be your driver for much longer. Not when he can have the best.
~*~*~*~
Quinque
Michael had stopped by the garage that night. KARR's AI lit up upon seeing him, and he was swiftly let down when Michael bypassed him without a second glance, climbing into KITT's driver seat and leaving.
The black and silver Trans AM wilted on his tires. He was used to being let down, dismissed, ignored—everyone did it, so he decided fighting it was a pointless endeavor. But Michael was… well, he considered him a friend, even if Michael didn't think so. KARR looked up to him, trusted him. Now he was choosing KITT over him. It wasn't much of a surprise, he supposed. KITT had told him about his test results—faster, more maneuverable, intelligent.
KITT wasn't the only one who'd said it, too—he knew they thought he couldn't hear them, but KARR had overheard Miss Barstow and Mr. Miles talking about KITT, as he stacked up to KARR. Vastly superior was the phrase they used.
More phrases sprang to mind—Disappointment…Don't even know what's best for you… Automated… A robot… No feelings… dismantle… outdated… useless… And those were just from people whose names he knew. The techs had called him several names as well, many of them very unkind (something he learned after quietly looking up their meaning), all of them insulting and degrading and belittling.
And they were all true, he reasoned. No one had reason to lie to him, so why would they start with the way they talked to and about him? He was a disappointment. He didn't know what was best for him. He was automated, a robot. Maybe he did need to be dismantled. Perhaps he was outdated and useless.
… If that was true, then, why did the feelings he wasn't supposed to have ache so?
~*~*~*~
Plus One
Michael and KITT never got the chance to work together. KITT took off, deeply resenting the fact that his future would consist of him being the Foundation's pet. At the same time, Garthe Knight, whom KARR later discovered was Mr. Knight's eldest son, disappeared, apparently motivated by a contempt for the Foundation on par with KITT's. Needless to say, they were quite the deadly match.
Michael's task was to find KITT and bring him around to the Foundation's side once more. To track him, he was given KARR. Michael had been less than thrilled; KARR privately picked up Michael's share and then some. Their first exchange as partners had been, It's a pleasure to work with you again, Michael. Michael had told him to shut up and track Garthe and KITT.
They'd been doing that ever since, for almost a year now. Now, though, Michael was settling into KARR's driver seat. "What do you have?"
I tracked Garthe and KITT's comm line, Michael<, KARR told him. They're fifteen miles east of our present location.
Michael started to pull out of the parking place in which KARR had settled him. "Good work, KARR."
…I beg your pardon, Michael? KARR asked softly. Surely there was another half to the statement—surely he'd not completed the job thoroughly enough for Michael's taste, or was mistaken…!
"Good work," Michael repeated, looking down at KARR's voice modulator. "What, don't you know how to take a compliment?"
O-Of course Michael… KARR replied. Hopefully Michael wouldn't catch the tremble in the words that indicated no, he didn't quite know how to take something he'd never been given.
-.-.-.-
Edit: 25 June 2011 - Added section headers (Latin), included a title.
Edit 2: 25 June 2011 - Suggested reading by
locoexclaimer : Pink LinesTitle: Five Times KARR Was Put Down, and One Time He Was Complimented
Author: TheCrazyAlaskan
Fandom / Setting: Classic Knight Rider, mirror universe
Characters / Pairings: Michael x KARR, Wilton Knight, Bonnie Barstow, Devon Miles, KITT
Genre: Angst
Rating: T+ (verbal abuse)
Summary: He was so used to being put down, he’d nearly forgotten how to take a compliment, let alone what one sounded like.
I adore mirror universes and alternate interpretations. <3 Basically it’s like… Knight Rider meets a light dystopian world. Michael Knight is an antihero, Garthe Knight is himself up to eleven, KITT is a scary motherfucker and KARR… Well, KARR is like an Iron Woobie. (Tropes Cited in This Paragraph Alone: Five.)
Did I mention I ship Michael x KARR like mad in this universe? 8D It would never ever ever ever EVAR work in the regular canon, but I love it here. And thus, enjoy.
Michael Knight, KARR, Wilton Knight, Bonnie Barstow, Devon Miles, KITT © Glen A Larson
