TBG Omake - The Definition of Life
Nov. 12th, 2017 11:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tanithryudoAN: This is an omake fanfic of a Quest (fanfic) called To Boldly Go, based primarily on Star Trek.
Just to say this right off the bat, I wasn’t really aiming for suspenseful court drama for this omake, more fanservice-dressed soapboxing. That said, it also isn't intended to be an in depth essay to defend AI rights. I’m sure there are dissertations worth of that stuff elsewhere on the net. I structured things to be centered more around interesting cameos and the POV they might be able to offer, and what would make sense from an in-universe and in-character perspective.
To give a bit of background, Mipek was an alien probe/AI found by the USS Odyssey, and joined that ship as an observer/crew for Captain Mbeki's last year or so before he retired to go into politics. Since then, it has been living in Sol without problems for 2+ years now. So what changed to suddenly create this conflict? Well, the obvious antagonist was the Daystrom Institute and its record of problems with AI in Trek, and they just happened to have started researching the latest gen of starship computer cores as of the last research vote in-game.
I suppose, in another timeline where they actually brought up the M5 in the court case, this court drama would be an actual drama with the big reveal being DI was trying to revive the M5 program and sneak AIs into starships. And then Vice Admiral Eaton would put her foot down. Here however, they were savvy enough to cut their losses. After all, losing this one research request wouldn't hurt them as much as being kicked off their research spot would have been.
Absent that, this is mainly going to be about Mipek, and whether it gets to be treated as a sapient life form. In light of that (and previous depictions), there wasn't much room for the plot to go. So I ended up picking the fanservice soapbox route. *shrug*
As another aside, I'm proud I managed to sneak "yudan sezu ni ikou" in there for my Tezuka expy. ^_-
The Definition of Life
(2320.Q1.M3)
“It isn’t right.”
Lt. Tezkan, officer of the JAG investigatory panel, slowly raised an eyebrow at the Indorian petty officer who was all but ranting in his office. Reng Yanag was a specialist working in the Experimental Computing Group, under the Starship Design Bureau. The Indorian had been in Tezkan’s office for several minutes now, and still had not clearly stated what he wanted. While previous experience working with emotional beings suggested it would be best to allow the other to exhaust themselves first, Tezkan calculated that his schedule would not have room for such a delay.
“Specialist Yanag, please refrain from further emotional outbursts,” Tezkan intoned. “It does not add any clarity to your case.”
To his credit, Specialist Yanag immediately halted what else he was about to say. The young Indorian took a deep breath to recompose himself. Taking the chance to finally seize control of the conversation, Tezkan spoke up into the pause.
“To summarize my understanding: The Daystrom Institute research team has offered to transfer the Mipek probe to a different computational chassis, in order to offer it increased operational longevity and to allow them to study its original chassis.” Tezkan restated their conversation so far, with more verbiage but less emotion. He raised a hand to forestall Yanag’s next attempt to speak up. “Your professional assessment is that the replacement they offered will be insufficient, and poses strong risk in damaging the...personality matrix of the Mipek AI.”
There was a brief pause. When Tezkan did not speak further, Yanag took it as a sign to respond.
“Yes, sir, more or less,” he replied, more calmly now.
“Why have you not raised this issue through your chain of command?” Tezkan asked. “Your credentials in computational analytics and evolving algorithms should logically give you sufficient authority to speak on this issue.”
“I’ve tried,” Yanag explained. Thankfully, the thinning of his lips was the only sign of irritation that he allowed himself to show this time. “But Lt. Haftel is the one proposing this whole deal. He’s the rising star of the liaison team with the Daystrom Institute, and his director, Captain Gharr, is backing him all the way.”
“Then have you spoken to your own director?” Tezkan pressed.
“Captain T’Linn doesn’t care to interfere in the affairs of other research teams as long as it doesn’t cross purposes with ours,” Yanag answered unhappily. “And...I don’t think she recognizes Mipek as a living entity at all.”
Tezkan frowned minutely, disturbed by the implications of what he was hearing. Even if the living status of Mipek was in question, the very fact that the question was being raised should have been grounds for an investigation, not summary dismissal. Still, he had one further question for the specialist. “What led you to seek me out on this matter, instead of going through the normal process of requesting judicial intervention?”
Yanag shook his head. “I knew there wouldn’t be enough time to push the paperwork through normally. They’re already trying to pressure Mipek to go through it, and I know Haftel will go forward even without its consent. I need an injunction to stop them now… and, well, a friend of a friend recommended you, sir. Ah, you know a Betazoid counsellor from the Academy?”
“Fujei. I see.” Tezkan refrained from a sigh of resignation. Regrets were illogical, and it was too late to regret ever meeting the other man anyways.
Meanwhile, another part of his mind was furiously reviewing his schedule. He did already have a lot on his plate. Yet, if the specialist is correct, there was incipient danger to a life, potentially... And, well, if that was true, then there was no choice at all.
Tezkan folded his hands together on the table and nodded to his petitioner. “Very well. Forward me all of your information on this case. I would also prefer to speak with Mipek in person as well. As the plaintiff, its requirements and goals must be clarified.”
Yanag broke into a pleased smile at that response.
~~~~~
“I must admit, Lieutenant, this has been highly unorthodox...”
Tezkan could not have predicted that his actions would attract the attention of the Assistant Judge Advocate General, but quite evidently, it had done so. He stood stiffly at attention in front of Captain Areel Shaw, waiting for the venerable woman to arrive at the point of his summons.
“...honestly shouldn't be surprised to see another Vulcan to go around procedures like this. But usually I only see actions like this come up with the more maverick Human kids, or these days, an Amarki--"
“Oh, no need to bore the young man to death, Areel.” Another sudden voice interrupted Shaw’s commentary.
Before even looking in the direction of the newcomer, Tezkan immediately recognized the voice belonging to Judge Aaron Satie, the second most senior judge on the Starfleet Judges Panel and the most famous outside of Starfleet. Satie was a specialist in Federation Law, and usually presided over cases where Starfleet activities intersected with Federation laws, rather than internal matters purely within the fleet.
“Boring?” Shaw tossed her head in mock offense. “Am I boring you, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir,” Tezkan answered honestly. After all, it was quite trivial for him to split a part of his attention to mentally composing reports while he waited for something relevant to be raised.
Satie snorted. “Well, not all of us here have a long lifespan, or patience.” He paused, then looked over at the Vulcan meaningfully. “Not that you seem to have enough of the latter either, in this case, Lieutenant.”
Tezkan took a deep breath, and addressed both senior officers. “Sirs. If you are referring to the injunction I filed against the Daystrom Institute research team, I noted quite clearly in the documentation that it was the potential of incipient danger to life which necessitated my haste in initiating legal proceedings.”
“Ah, yes, the incipient danger of life to an alien probe,” Shaw drawled.
“There is sufficient technical evidence to support that assessment,” Tezkan stated, choosing to ignore any emotional context of his superior’s comment.
“If we can classify this as ‘life’,” Shaw pressed on. “There’s hardly any laws regarding artificial life anywhere, aside from the don’t do it yourself variety.”
“It would be...unethical,” Tezkan began slowly, choosing his words with care, “to simply allow a lack of jurisprudence to remove, without examination, the protections we extend to all living beings.”
“And if the ruling doesn’t go your way?” Shaw continued with a narrowed gaze. “Are you willing to place your career on the line for this?”
“It would be illogical of me to do otherwise,” Tezkan replied, clasping his hands behind his back.
A sudden bark of laughter from Judge Satie forestalled any further rejoinder from the captain.
“You’ve got guts, Lieutenant,” the human remarked with a grin. “Good! You’re going to need it at the board of inquiry. Two weeks from today work for you?”
Tezkan blinked at the abrupt change in conversation. His eyes flickered once between the judge and the JAG official, noting that while Shaw looked disapproving at the interruption, she did not gainsay Satie’s announcement.
“Yes sir,” he informed Judge Satie solemnly. “I will be ready.”
~~~~~
“...Thankfully, while the probe itself is beginning to degrade further, even with very careful preservation on our part, we have spoken with the AI about possibly extracting him into a more portable, durable (if I can say such a thing about a device that certainly won't be capable of crossing the galaxy) body that we can continue to interact with.”
There was a short silence in the courtroom after the recording of the captain’s log concerning Mipek’s initial recovery finished playing. Tezkan sat placidly in his chair, ignoring the smug grin on the face of the opposing counsel standing in the middle of the room. He was still perplexed by the Daystrom Institute’s decision to hire a civilian lawyer to plead their case in a Starfleet court of inquiry. Still, he reminded himself not to let his guard down.
“Ladies and gentle-beings of the court,” began the other lawyer, a Mr. Henry Cain, “as you have heard it, it was the initial estimation of the esteemed crew of the USS Odyssey that the Mipek probe could be safely transitioned to a different body--and they were right!” He waved a hand at Mipek, who was standing silently next to where Tezkan was seated. “In fact, the form that you see of that probe now, is indeed a smaller and portable refurbishment!”
It was a...somewhat exaggeration of the truth. Tezkan wondered that no one had explained the engineering details to the man. Or, perhaps… had no one actually examined the detailed work logs of the Odyssey’s chief engineer?
Still pondering that possibility, Tezkan stood as his opponent returned to his seat, and walked to the center of the room.
“The captain’s logs of the USS Odyssey,” he stated calmly, “while accurate at the time they were made, does not reflect the entirety of the engineering procedures performed on behalf of my client.” He looked up at the judges panel. “Fortunately, the then-captain of the Odyssey, Mr. Mbeki, is available for consultation. I would call him to the stand.”
“Granted,” Judge Satie called out. “Proceed.”
There was a murmur among the audience, and a shuffling of people by the door, parting to let the formidable presence of Langa Mbeki through. At the same time, a witness chair was rolled out, complete with the standard lie detector armrest.
As Mbeki sat down in the chair, the computer began to reel off his impressive credentials, including his current position as parliamentarian-elect to the United Earth government. Tezkan patiently waited for it to finish, reflecting that it was fortunate the retired commodore was willing to take time out of what must be a busy schedule to attend this inquiry. Perhaps it was the fact that Mipek had made the request personally, when previous attempts to contact the man had failed to elicit a response, which ultimately made the difference.
Once the computer fell silent, Tezkan spoke up.
“Mr. Mbeki. For the record, you were the captain of the USS Odyssey at the time Mipek was recovered, and the one who made the log recording just presented, correct?”
“That’s right,” Mbeki’s low booming voice rumbled in affirmation.
“To what extent were you involved in the changes made to Mipek’s chassis?”
Mbeki hummed, gathering his thoughts, before answering. “Well, I didn’t perform the actual engineering feats. I left that to my chief engineer and science officer. However, I was kept fully aware of their progress - the ideas they came up with, the analysis they ran, and I approved what they ended up implementing.”
Tezkan nodded at the expected response. “Can you give a brief summary of the changes that were made to Mipek?”
“Of course.” Mbeki leaned back in the chair as he spoke, his eyes looking away into the air as he recalled the details. “All of the changes that we ended up making were to Mipek’s physical chassis. Its original probe form had a thick outer casing -- that was the reason it could survive deep space for so long. After removing all the parts that wasn’t needed anymore, we then integrated onto it a small antigravity unit, to improve mobility. And, of course, an universal translator, for communication.”
“Were there any changes made to Mipek’s software?”
“No,” Mbeki stated clearly. “We examined Mipek’s code closely in order to design the interfaces to the parts we added. We did not make any changes.”
“To clarify, was the option of being completely transferred to a new, custom-built chassis ever proposed?”
“Yes, it was one of the ideas we threw around at the beginning, but it never went anywhere.”
“Why?”
Mbeki smiled ruefully. “We ran many simulations, and the best we could ever get was 70% reliability for a truly comprehensive transfer of Mipek’s operational algorithms.” He paused, then clarified on his own initiative. “--the...personality matrix, that is. It was simply above our current computational science.”
“The Daystrom Institute believes they are able to raise that reliability factor to 90%,” Tezkan informed the politician. “Had that been your results at the time, would your decision regarding a full transfer have changed?”
“Me personally?” Mbeki pursed his lips. “If I was in Mipek’s shoes... then, no. I mean, there’s no doctor out there that’ll operate on you with those odds. Well, unless you’re about to die otherwise.”
“Then, you believe a sufficiently high reliability rating would change your decision?” Tezkan pressed. There was a particular point he wanted to make.
Frowning at the question, Mbeki took another moment of thought before he answered. “For myself personally, and if it’s very close to 100%, then I might say yes. But for the actual situation on the Odyssey, well, it would’ve still been Mipek’s decision to make, ultimately.”
“Why?” Just one more step.
Mbeki looked surprised that the question had to be asked. “Because it’s Mipek’s right to choose how to live its life.”
~~~~~
The opposing counsel had lost his arrogant smile by the time court reconvened after the midday break. Not that Tezkan took special note of the fact, aside from using it as a psychological predictor that the other lawyer was not likely to have unexpected surprises prepared.
Not that there had been any surprises before the break either, which, after Mbeki’s testimony, basically devolved into a duel of scientific credentials and technical jargon. Both Lt. Haftel and Specialist Yanag had been called to the stand to give their analysis the proposed transfer procedure that the Daystrom Institute had wanted to perform.
In the end, Tezkan’s goal had not been to completely discredit Lt. Haftel, but rather, to present an accurate picture of risk -- risk that would never have been tolerated for any biological procedure. Once that could be established, he predicted it would force the opposing side to no other recourse than to drop their mask for the true purpose of why they were all here.
His prediction was correct. As soon as the afternoon session resumed, the opposition dropped all pretense of regarding Mipek as anything but a piece of property to be fought over. They attacked Mipek’s status as a life form, its rights, and if given free reign, Tezkan did not doubt they would continue onto bringing out the laws regarding deep space salvage. Fortunately, he had prepared for this particular line of argument from the beginning, and had made his expert testimony request appropriately.
“Spock, serial number S179..."
It took a bit of time for the computer to finish the impressive amount of credentials attached to the retired captain, and then some more to recite his growing credentials as an active Federation ambassador, who also happened to be heading his own department with Starfleet Research. In many ways, being unique had ever been an accurate description of this man.
“Ambassador, you were once the science officer of the USS Enterprise, correct?” Tezkan jumped right to the beginning with his line of questioning.
“Affirmative.”
“During that time, have you encountered instances of what was clearly life, but not detected as such by your equipment?”
The ambassador nodded. “Affirmative. Many times, in fact.”
“I believe the Horta were one such example. How difficult is it to detect them?”
Spock’s answer came in a lecturing tone, a holdover from his long years teaching at Starfleet Academy.
“The existence of silicon based life was only theory at the time we discovered the Horta, and such life forms are still highly rare to date. Because of that, standard scanner settings, for tricorders as well as for starship sensors, are not configured to detect them. Manual input is required in all cases to adjust for silicon based life, though it is a fairly simple change with today’s sensors.”
“What of the cloud creature of Tycho IV? How difficult was it to detect?”
“Significantly more difficult,” the ambassador continued to lecture. “The cloud creature could intelligently shift between states of matter and energy, such that it could not be said to be organic, inorganic, or even material at any one time. I had to make extensive modifications to the scanners to continuously cycle through the detection profiles. At the same time, an operator had to remain on hand to monitor for any minute shifts in variation in the resulting data feed, and adjust the profiles as necessary. Even then, we could only identify the superficial qualities of that life form, before the only known example was destroyed.”
Tezkan nodded. Those answers were what he had expected. Now to tie them together.
“Compared to these two samples, how difficult would you estimate it to configure a scanner to detect Mipek as a life form?”
A raised eyebrow met his question, but the answer came quickly enough. “With current generation sensor equipment, a little more difficult than adjusting for Horta readings, but much less difficult than modifying for the cloud creature.”
“Yet both the Horta and the Tycho IV cloud creature are defined as living beings, by current scientific standards.”
“Affirmative.” It was not a question, but Spock confirmed the statement anyway, since he had been the primary author of the papers introducing both of those life forms to the scientific community. “The Horta were capable of intelligent communication and advanced learning. The cloud creature exhibited behaviors consistent with intelligent tactical thinking and emotional response.”
Tezkan clasped his hands behind his back and looked up to the judges panel.
“Gentle-beings of the court, the concept of a ‘life form’ has always been a fluid one for Starfleet, an institution responsible for the discovery of new life, in all its forms. There are many other instances throughout the logs of the Starfleet Explorer Corps, where life is found in the most unexpected configurations. I submit that it would be irresponsible and...short-sighted of this institution to define ‘life’ by the limited definitions used in civilian medical practices, as has been proposed by Mr. Cain.”
From his central seat among the judges panel, Aaron Satie gave the young Vulcan lawyer an amused smile. “So noted,” the venerable judge said, nodding over to the court clerk as well. “Do you have any further questions for this witness, Mr. Tezkan?”
“Yes, sir.” Unclasping his hands, Tezkan turned back around to face the ambassador in the witness chair once more. “Ambassador, during your time on the USS Enterprise, you once encountered a mechanized probe calling itself Nomad, correct?”
“Affirmative,” Spock confirmed.
“In your reports, you identified it as an ‘almost-life form’. Can you explain your reasons for that categorization?”
A raised eyebrow was Spock’s only sign of surprise at the question. He had been expecting to be asked about the Exo III androids or the M5 incident. Nonetheless, the comparison of Nomad was a relevant one.
“Nomad was originally a machine that held no more intelligence than a tricorder, merged with another machine that was more powerful, but no more intelligent. In their combining, it essentially became more than the sum of its parts. However, despite its impressive ability to learn and synthesize information, it was not able to...process its own imperfections, to learn from one’s own mistakes. That was the reason for my final analysis.”
Tezkan nodded along. “In contrast to Nomad, when you later encountered the more well-known V’ger probe entity, you officially categorized it as an ‘intelligent, sapient mind’, and then later as ‘transcendent’. What was your reason for this differing classification?”
Although it was a logical follow up, the ambassador actually paused for a moment to consider his response before speaking.
“V’ger... had a mind much more advanced than Nomad, and not just in terms of power or speed. It was already aware of its own flaws, its...emptiness. It sought answers to the great philosophical questions that only sapient beings would ask. And, in the end, I believe it had obtained the means to find its answers.”
From the corner of his eye, Tezkan could see the opposing counsel about to speak up. He predicted that it would most likely be an objection based on the fact that V’ger had merged with two biological beings to attain its transcendance. Quickly, he posed his next question before the other could interrupt.
“To clarify, do you confirm that V’ger’s mechanical nature did not preclude it from having a sapient mind, even before the influence of Lieutenant Ilia and Commander Decker?”
“Affirmative.” Spock’s answer was swift and firm.
That was enough to forestall the objection. But there was still one final part to this line of questioning.
“Then, given your interactions with Mipek during the time it has resided on Starbase One, how would you categorize it in comparison to Nomad and V’ger?”
The ambassador slanted a look at the still form of Mipek still hovering in place beside Tezkan’s empty chair.
“While Mipek is not nearly as powerful, nor possessed of the vast processing capabilities of Nomad and V’ger, I would say it is more advanced in how it thinks. It is able to apprehend imperfections in itself and others, it is able to ask philosophical questions and process the inherent paradoxes within philosophy, and it is able to learn and adapt to complex situations that sometimes have no clear answer.” For a moment, he almost looked amused. “Indeed, it is more similar to quite a few cadets that I have once taught.”
He then looked back toward his questioner. “To answer your question, Mipek is sapient, even more closely matching the classification than V’ger.”
That was about as comprehensive an answer as he was going to get on the matter. Tezkan nodded and faced the judges panel.
“I have no further questions.”
Judge Satie nodded at him, then turned to the other lawyer. “Mr. Cain?”
The man in question grimaced. After a moment of thought, however, Cain shook his head. “No questions.”
Tezkan had predicted a 60% chance that the defense would try to bring up the M5 incident, and had his rebuttal planned out. But it seemed like the Daystrom Institute did not want to bring up that mark of shame in their history to begin with. It was just as well.
He waited for the witness stand to be cleared before calling the last witness on his list.
“I call Mipek to the stand.”
The normal witness chair was quickly rolled away, to be replaced by a contraption that had been especially put together for the occasion. Mipek’s chassis slotted into the new stand with a smooth beep, and the background light for the lie detector gently lit.
“Mipek, in the 2.25 years since the end of Captain Mbeki’s mission on the USS Odyssey, how many offers of...visitation, to other places in the Federation have you received?”
Preceded by a trill of beeping sounds, Mipek answered the question with an androgynous voice provided by its translator.
“Answer: Exactly 147. From a variety of universities, technical organizations, and corporations.”
“Did any of these invitations come with offers of benefits if you comply?”
“Answer: Affirmative. Exactly 47. A variety offers including monetary rewards, physical rewards, and others.”
“Have any of the offers have explicitly included emigration?”
“Answer: Affirmative. The Technocracy Interstellar Ministry of Gaen. The Technocratic University of Gaen VI. The Institute of Higher Learning, Solitude. University of Pyllix, Indoria. Gennon-Brand Infotech of Celos.”
It was a somewhat predictable list, with the only surprise being the main university on Solitude instead of the VSA. It was also a reminder that not all member worlds in the Federation had a dearth of experience, or at least legislative expectation, with regards to artificial intelligence. But, that still wasn’t the main point that Tezkan wanted to make.
“Given all of those offers, why have you remained at Starbase One?”
There was a small, almost human pause, before Mipek replied. “Answer: Because I chose to stay.”
That would have been enough for a Vulcan court, but in Tezkan’s experience, a bit more was needed for everywhere else. “Why?”
“Answer: Because there are friends here. Starfleet. Many of Starfleet are like me. I wish to learn with them. I wish to stay.”
Tezkan waited a moment longer to allow the response to sink into the silence of the room, before turning to the judge’s panel and breaking the silence.
“The prosecution rests.”
~~~~~
Judge Aaron Satie stood in front of the courtroom, his solemn gaze sweeping across the room as the court clerk moved through the formalities before the final verdict was given.
The representative from the Daystrom Institute wore a confident grin, but he could tell from the man’s fidgeting fingers that it was merely a layer of bravado covering great uncertainty. Naturally, the young Vulcan lawyer from the JAG was much better at maintaining a stolid appearance, with only the barest stiffness about his shoulders betraying tension. Even Mipek, the mechanical probe itself, was slightly fidgeting in place, ironically more similar to the human than to the Vulcan who defended it.
In the back of the room, a larger audience than even he was used to was spread about the seats. Surprisingly, Langa Mbeki was still present, quietly discussing some matter or other with Ambassador Spock. That was something he hadn’t expected, given what must be a busy schedule for the recently elected politician. Some, like the FBS reporter also in the audience, might chalk his continued presence up to a political statement. But Satie rather suspected it was simply a case of not being able to take Starfleet out of the officer.
As the court clerk finished with the formalities, all eyes came to rest onto Aaron Satie. Undaunted, the judge began to speak.
“This case placed before me today has superficially been about the necessities of progress and its risks. Indeed, I cannot deny that Starfleet has assumed a duty to deliver the truth and knowledge, in all its forms, to the Federation.
“However, it has also become clear that this case is also about life - the definition thereof, and about rights - where they must be extended, and where they might be denied. There is little in the way of direct legislation for purely mechanoid life forms in current Federation law. But then, there is little legislation to account for a great variety of life forms encountered at our frontiers.
“Yet, life is what we seek out, as the founding purpose of this institution. Can we keep to that noble ambition, while at the same time withholding the recognition of life if it does not meet our expectations? No. We cannot. We must recognize where there may be life, even when we might be wrong, rather than deciding there is not life, when we might be wrong.
“Thus, on reviewing the information presented today, it is the ruling of this court that the entity Mipek is entitled to the full rights this institution extends to all living beings. No Starfleet or affiliated party may coerce from, or deny it the freedom to choose.”
~~~~~
“Thank you, sir,” Yanag spoke with an aura of earnest relief. “It looks like my friends were right about you.”
“I acted logically; one does not thank logic,” Tezkan reflexively intoned, even as he stamped down the urge to track down Fujei and thoroughly interrogate the Betazoid about what rumors he’d been spreading.
“Observation: Gratitude is a natural social mechanism.” Mipek piped up from beside them. “Resistance is illogical.”
A hearty laugh broke into the small circle. They looked up to see Langa Mbeki join them, Judge Satie just behind him.
“Glad to see you haven’t lost that sense of humor, Mipek,” Mbeki teased with an easy smile, to which Mipek returned with a string of trilling beeps that was its approximation of laughter.
“Sirs.” Both Tezkan and Yanag straightened to attention at the senior officer and former senior officer.
“At ease.” Satie waved a hand at the two younger men, then turned to regard Tezkan in particular. “You did a good job today, Lieutenant, but are you ready for the next step?”
“Sir?” the Vulcan tilted his head in askance. “To what are you referring?”
Satie gave him a fatherly look, and his voice took on a lecturing tone. “A ruling from Starfleet is one thing, and Mipek will certainly be in good hands with us. But remember that Starfleet is still an organization that answers to the Federation, not the other way around.”
“You are...speaking of having Mipek seek official Federation citizenship?” Tezkan said slowly, as realization dawned.
“It’ll certainly be a challenge,” Satie confirmed.
“Indeed, with the lack of jurisprudence on the matter...” Tezkan trailed off, mind already racing. As his thoughts tumbled through the possibilities, he murmured, as if to himself. “Perhaps it would be easier to gain citizenship of a member world first, though it would mean a temporary move from Terra--”
“Oh, no it doesn’t,” Mbeki interrupted him with great emphasis. Seeing all attention directed to him after the outburst, he clarified. “Speaking as someone who is in a position to effect legislative change, of course. I can’t believe something as antiquated as those Acts of Cumberland are still on the books.” He gave Mipek a confident look. “Rest assured, I’ll see to it that you’ll be able to obtain citizenship for Earth.”
Mipek trilled back its gratitude. “Declaration: I am honored by friends from Starfleet.”
“I’m glad someone was,” a cool voice suddenly spoke up behind the group, “considering how three of my research teams have tied themselves up in this court drama.”
“A-admiral Eaton!” Yanag was the first to call out, snapping to attention again.
“Oh, it was for a good cause, Admiral,” Mbeki turned to regard his former colleague with a grin. “Are you sure you’re not just sorry you missed it?”
“Hah.” Victoria Eaton returned a small smile at the rejoinder, apparently not as offended as her original words indicated. “I suppose my deadline problems might not compare to yours anymore, Mr. Parliamentarian-elect, so I won’t complain while you’re here. But seriously though,” her smile slipped for a bit, “anyone know where Ambassador Spock went?”
Mbeki tilted his head toward her. “He got called away earlier by Admiral Uhura.” He paused in memory. “Actually, it didn’t sound like a social call. Quite the opposite, in fact. Did something happen?”
“Maybe,” was the non-committal response from Eaton. “I suppose I should be rounding up the rest of my lost chicks then. I’ll see you around, Mr. Mbeki, Judge Satie. Specialist?” As she turned to leave, she gave the still attentive Indorian a meaningful look.
“Ah, yes sir! Bye sirs!” Yanag hurried after his ultimate boss.
With a trill, Mipek made to follow him. “Declaration: Thank you and farewell, Lieutenant Tezkan, Judge Satie, former-captain Mbeki.”
“Don’t be a stranger, Mipek!” Mbeki called after it. Then, he turned back to the two other men. “I don’t know whether or not to feel sorry for the Daystrom research team when she gets her hands on them.”
Satie snorted. “What did they expect, trying to pull a stunt like this right at the heart of Starfleet JAG?”
“Eternal vigilance, I suppose,” Mbeki mused, then turned a measuring look on the silent junior officer still standing nearby. “Well, looks like I’ve got my work still cut out for me. And I think you do too, Lieutenant.”
Although still disconcerted by Mipeks earlier declaration of friendship, Tezkan pushed it away in favor of more comprehensible matters.
“Yes sir, I am willing to provide further legal assistance to Mipek, should it seek to pursue the matter of citizenship. I will initiate contact after performing the relevant research.”
“Good!” Judge Satie nodded in satisfaction. “Starfleet might always answer to the Federation, but I’d like to think that we also light its way, sometimes in more ways than just the exploration of space.”
~~~~~
Foonotes:
Anthony Haftel is a canon character from TNG. Hopefully he'll learn his lesson here and not try to take away Data's kid in the future. Or maybe he'll come back later as an antagonist when we find Data. Who knows.
Areel Shaw is a canon character from TOS. I flipped a coin to see if she'd be too old to show up. But anyway, the last org chart I saw for the JAG department didn't have many high ranking spots anyway, so I guess most people there just languish at lower ranks or something...
Aaron Satie is yet another canon character from TNG. He was required reading for Picard at the Academy (and that's coming up soon too!) so he should be a famous judge around the current time.
Just to say this right off the bat, I wasn’t really aiming for suspenseful court drama for this omake, more fanservice-dressed soapboxing. That said, it also isn't intended to be an in depth essay to defend AI rights. I’m sure there are dissertations worth of that stuff elsewhere on the net. I structured things to be centered more around interesting cameos and the POV they might be able to offer, and what would make sense from an in-universe and in-character perspective.
To give a bit of background, Mipek was an alien probe/AI found by the USS Odyssey, and joined that ship as an observer/crew for Captain Mbeki's last year or so before he retired to go into politics. Since then, it has been living in Sol without problems for 2+ years now. So what changed to suddenly create this conflict? Well, the obvious antagonist was the Daystrom Institute and its record of problems with AI in Trek, and they just happened to have started researching the latest gen of starship computer cores as of the last research vote in-game.
I suppose, in another timeline where they actually brought up the M5 in the court case, this court drama would be an actual drama with the big reveal being DI was trying to revive the M5 program and sneak AIs into starships. And then Vice Admiral Eaton would put her foot down. Here however, they were savvy enough to cut their losses. After all, losing this one research request wouldn't hurt them as much as being kicked off their research spot would have been.
Absent that, this is mainly going to be about Mipek, and whether it gets to be treated as a sapient life form. In light of that (and previous depictions), there wasn't much room for the plot to go. So I ended up picking the fanservice soapbox route. *shrug*
As another aside, I'm proud I managed to sneak "yudan sezu ni ikou" in there for my Tezuka expy. ^_-
(2320.Q1.M3)
“It isn’t right.”
Lt. Tezkan, officer of the JAG investigatory panel, slowly raised an eyebrow at the Indorian petty officer who was all but ranting in his office. Reng Yanag was a specialist working in the Experimental Computing Group, under the Starship Design Bureau. The Indorian had been in Tezkan’s office for several minutes now, and still had not clearly stated what he wanted. While previous experience working with emotional beings suggested it would be best to allow the other to exhaust themselves first, Tezkan calculated that his schedule would not have room for such a delay.
“Specialist Yanag, please refrain from further emotional outbursts,” Tezkan intoned. “It does not add any clarity to your case.”
To his credit, Specialist Yanag immediately halted what else he was about to say. The young Indorian took a deep breath to recompose himself. Taking the chance to finally seize control of the conversation, Tezkan spoke up into the pause.
“To summarize my understanding: The Daystrom Institute research team has offered to transfer the Mipek probe to a different computational chassis, in order to offer it increased operational longevity and to allow them to study its original chassis.” Tezkan restated their conversation so far, with more verbiage but less emotion. He raised a hand to forestall Yanag’s next attempt to speak up. “Your professional assessment is that the replacement they offered will be insufficient, and poses strong risk in damaging the...personality matrix of the Mipek AI.”
There was a brief pause. When Tezkan did not speak further, Yanag took it as a sign to respond.
“Yes, sir, more or less,” he replied, more calmly now.
“Why have you not raised this issue through your chain of command?” Tezkan asked. “Your credentials in computational analytics and evolving algorithms should logically give you sufficient authority to speak on this issue.”
“I’ve tried,” Yanag explained. Thankfully, the thinning of his lips was the only sign of irritation that he allowed himself to show this time. “But Lt. Haftel is the one proposing this whole deal. He’s the rising star of the liaison team with the Daystrom Institute, and his director, Captain Gharr, is backing him all the way.”
“Then have you spoken to your own director?” Tezkan pressed.
“Captain T’Linn doesn’t care to interfere in the affairs of other research teams as long as it doesn’t cross purposes with ours,” Yanag answered unhappily. “And...I don’t think she recognizes Mipek as a living entity at all.”
Tezkan frowned minutely, disturbed by the implications of what he was hearing. Even if the living status of Mipek was in question, the very fact that the question was being raised should have been grounds for an investigation, not summary dismissal. Still, he had one further question for the specialist. “What led you to seek me out on this matter, instead of going through the normal process of requesting judicial intervention?”
Yanag shook his head. “I knew there wouldn’t be enough time to push the paperwork through normally. They’re already trying to pressure Mipek to go through it, and I know Haftel will go forward even without its consent. I need an injunction to stop them now… and, well, a friend of a friend recommended you, sir. Ah, you know a Betazoid counsellor from the Academy?”
“Fujei. I see.” Tezkan refrained from a sigh of resignation. Regrets were illogical, and it was too late to regret ever meeting the other man anyways.
Meanwhile, another part of his mind was furiously reviewing his schedule. He did already have a lot on his plate. Yet, if the specialist is correct, there was incipient danger to a life, potentially... And, well, if that was true, then there was no choice at all.
Tezkan folded his hands together on the table and nodded to his petitioner. “Very well. Forward me all of your information on this case. I would also prefer to speak with Mipek in person as well. As the plaintiff, its requirements and goals must be clarified.”
Yanag broke into a pleased smile at that response.
“I must admit, Lieutenant, this has been highly unorthodox...”
Tezkan could not have predicted that his actions would attract the attention of the Assistant Judge Advocate General, but quite evidently, it had done so. He stood stiffly at attention in front of Captain Areel Shaw, waiting for the venerable woman to arrive at the point of his summons.
“...honestly shouldn't be surprised to see another Vulcan to go around procedures like this. But usually I only see actions like this come up with the more maverick Human kids, or these days, an Amarki--"
“Oh, no need to bore the young man to death, Areel.” Another sudden voice interrupted Shaw’s commentary.
Before even looking in the direction of the newcomer, Tezkan immediately recognized the voice belonging to Judge Aaron Satie, the second most senior judge on the Starfleet Judges Panel and the most famous outside of Starfleet. Satie was a specialist in Federation Law, and usually presided over cases where Starfleet activities intersected with Federation laws, rather than internal matters purely within the fleet.
“Boring?” Shaw tossed her head in mock offense. “Am I boring you, Lieutenant?”
“No, sir,” Tezkan answered honestly. After all, it was quite trivial for him to split a part of his attention to mentally composing reports while he waited for something relevant to be raised.
Satie snorted. “Well, not all of us here have a long lifespan, or patience.” He paused, then looked over at the Vulcan meaningfully. “Not that you seem to have enough of the latter either, in this case, Lieutenant.”
Tezkan took a deep breath, and addressed both senior officers. “Sirs. If you are referring to the injunction I filed against the Daystrom Institute research team, I noted quite clearly in the documentation that it was the potential of incipient danger to life which necessitated my haste in initiating legal proceedings.”
“Ah, yes, the incipient danger of life to an alien probe,” Shaw drawled.
“There is sufficient technical evidence to support that assessment,” Tezkan stated, choosing to ignore any emotional context of his superior’s comment.
“If we can classify this as ‘life’,” Shaw pressed on. “There’s hardly any laws regarding artificial life anywhere, aside from the don’t do it yourself variety.”
“It would be...unethical,” Tezkan began slowly, choosing his words with care, “to simply allow a lack of jurisprudence to remove, without examination, the protections we extend to all living beings.”
“And if the ruling doesn’t go your way?” Shaw continued with a narrowed gaze. “Are you willing to place your career on the line for this?”
“It would be illogical of me to do otherwise,” Tezkan replied, clasping his hands behind his back.
A sudden bark of laughter from Judge Satie forestalled any further rejoinder from the captain.
“You’ve got guts, Lieutenant,” the human remarked with a grin. “Good! You’re going to need it at the board of inquiry. Two weeks from today work for you?”
Tezkan blinked at the abrupt change in conversation. His eyes flickered once between the judge and the JAG official, noting that while Shaw looked disapproving at the interruption, she did not gainsay Satie’s announcement.
“Yes sir,” he informed Judge Satie solemnly. “I will be ready.”
“...Thankfully, while the probe itself is beginning to degrade further, even with very careful preservation on our part, we have spoken with the AI about possibly extracting him into a more portable, durable (if I can say such a thing about a device that certainly won't be capable of crossing the galaxy) body that we can continue to interact with.”
There was a short silence in the courtroom after the recording of the captain’s log concerning Mipek’s initial recovery finished playing. Tezkan sat placidly in his chair, ignoring the smug grin on the face of the opposing counsel standing in the middle of the room. He was still perplexed by the Daystrom Institute’s decision to hire a civilian lawyer to plead their case in a Starfleet court of inquiry. Still, he reminded himself not to let his guard down.
“Ladies and gentle-beings of the court,” began the other lawyer, a Mr. Henry Cain, “as you have heard it, it was the initial estimation of the esteemed crew of the USS Odyssey that the Mipek probe could be safely transitioned to a different body--and they were right!” He waved a hand at Mipek, who was standing silently next to where Tezkan was seated. “In fact, the form that you see of that probe now, is indeed a smaller and portable refurbishment!”
It was a...somewhat exaggeration of the truth. Tezkan wondered that no one had explained the engineering details to the man. Or, perhaps… had no one actually examined the detailed work logs of the Odyssey’s chief engineer?
Still pondering that possibility, Tezkan stood as his opponent returned to his seat, and walked to the center of the room.
“The captain’s logs of the USS Odyssey,” he stated calmly, “while accurate at the time they were made, does not reflect the entirety of the engineering procedures performed on behalf of my client.” He looked up at the judges panel. “Fortunately, the then-captain of the Odyssey, Mr. Mbeki, is available for consultation. I would call him to the stand.”
“Granted,” Judge Satie called out. “Proceed.”
There was a murmur among the audience, and a shuffling of people by the door, parting to let the formidable presence of Langa Mbeki through. At the same time, a witness chair was rolled out, complete with the standard lie detector armrest.
As Mbeki sat down in the chair, the computer began to reel off his impressive credentials, including his current position as parliamentarian-elect to the United Earth government. Tezkan patiently waited for it to finish, reflecting that it was fortunate the retired commodore was willing to take time out of what must be a busy schedule to attend this inquiry. Perhaps it was the fact that Mipek had made the request personally, when previous attempts to contact the man had failed to elicit a response, which ultimately made the difference.
Once the computer fell silent, Tezkan spoke up.
“Mr. Mbeki. For the record, you were the captain of the USS Odyssey at the time Mipek was recovered, and the one who made the log recording just presented, correct?”
“That’s right,” Mbeki’s low booming voice rumbled in affirmation.
“To what extent were you involved in the changes made to Mipek’s chassis?”
Mbeki hummed, gathering his thoughts, before answering. “Well, I didn’t perform the actual engineering feats. I left that to my chief engineer and science officer. However, I was kept fully aware of their progress - the ideas they came up with, the analysis they ran, and I approved what they ended up implementing.”
Tezkan nodded at the expected response. “Can you give a brief summary of the changes that were made to Mipek?”
“Of course.” Mbeki leaned back in the chair as he spoke, his eyes looking away into the air as he recalled the details. “All of the changes that we ended up making were to Mipek’s physical chassis. Its original probe form had a thick outer casing -- that was the reason it could survive deep space for so long. After removing all the parts that wasn’t needed anymore, we then integrated onto it a small antigravity unit, to improve mobility. And, of course, an universal translator, for communication.”
“Were there any changes made to Mipek’s software?”
“No,” Mbeki stated clearly. “We examined Mipek’s code closely in order to design the interfaces to the parts we added. We did not make any changes.”
“To clarify, was the option of being completely transferred to a new, custom-built chassis ever proposed?”
“Yes, it was one of the ideas we threw around at the beginning, but it never went anywhere.”
“Why?”
Mbeki smiled ruefully. “We ran many simulations, and the best we could ever get was 70% reliability for a truly comprehensive transfer of Mipek’s operational algorithms.” He paused, then clarified on his own initiative. “--the...personality matrix, that is. It was simply above our current computational science.”
“The Daystrom Institute believes they are able to raise that reliability factor to 90%,” Tezkan informed the politician. “Had that been your results at the time, would your decision regarding a full transfer have changed?”
“Me personally?” Mbeki pursed his lips. “If I was in Mipek’s shoes... then, no. I mean, there’s no doctor out there that’ll operate on you with those odds. Well, unless you’re about to die otherwise.”
“Then, you believe a sufficiently high reliability rating would change your decision?” Tezkan pressed. There was a particular point he wanted to make.
Frowning at the question, Mbeki took another moment of thought before he answered. “For myself personally, and if it’s very close to 100%, then I might say yes. But for the actual situation on the Odyssey, well, it would’ve still been Mipek’s decision to make, ultimately.”
“Why?” Just one more step.
Mbeki looked surprised that the question had to be asked. “Because it’s Mipek’s right to choose how to live its life.”
The opposing counsel had lost his arrogant smile by the time court reconvened after the midday break. Not that Tezkan took special note of the fact, aside from using it as a psychological predictor that the other lawyer was not likely to have unexpected surprises prepared.
Not that there had been any surprises before the break either, which, after Mbeki’s testimony, basically devolved into a duel of scientific credentials and technical jargon. Both Lt. Haftel and Specialist Yanag had been called to the stand to give their analysis the proposed transfer procedure that the Daystrom Institute had wanted to perform.
In the end, Tezkan’s goal had not been to completely discredit Lt. Haftel, but rather, to present an accurate picture of risk -- risk that would never have been tolerated for any biological procedure. Once that could be established, he predicted it would force the opposing side to no other recourse than to drop their mask for the true purpose of why they were all here.
His prediction was correct. As soon as the afternoon session resumed, the opposition dropped all pretense of regarding Mipek as anything but a piece of property to be fought over. They attacked Mipek’s status as a life form, its rights, and if given free reign, Tezkan did not doubt they would continue onto bringing out the laws regarding deep space salvage. Fortunately, he had prepared for this particular line of argument from the beginning, and had made his expert testimony request appropriately.
“Spock, serial number S179..."
It took a bit of time for the computer to finish the impressive amount of credentials attached to the retired captain, and then some more to recite his growing credentials as an active Federation ambassador, who also happened to be heading his own department with Starfleet Research. In many ways, being unique had ever been an accurate description of this man.
“Ambassador, you were once the science officer of the USS Enterprise, correct?” Tezkan jumped right to the beginning with his line of questioning.
“Affirmative.”
“During that time, have you encountered instances of what was clearly life, but not detected as such by your equipment?”
The ambassador nodded. “Affirmative. Many times, in fact.”
“I believe the Horta were one such example. How difficult is it to detect them?”
Spock’s answer came in a lecturing tone, a holdover from his long years teaching at Starfleet Academy.
“The existence of silicon based life was only theory at the time we discovered the Horta, and such life forms are still highly rare to date. Because of that, standard scanner settings, for tricorders as well as for starship sensors, are not configured to detect them. Manual input is required in all cases to adjust for silicon based life, though it is a fairly simple change with today’s sensors.”
“What of the cloud creature of Tycho IV? How difficult was it to detect?”
“Significantly more difficult,” the ambassador continued to lecture. “The cloud creature could intelligently shift between states of matter and energy, such that it could not be said to be organic, inorganic, or even material at any one time. I had to make extensive modifications to the scanners to continuously cycle through the detection profiles. At the same time, an operator had to remain on hand to monitor for any minute shifts in variation in the resulting data feed, and adjust the profiles as necessary. Even then, we could only identify the superficial qualities of that life form, before the only known example was destroyed.”
Tezkan nodded. Those answers were what he had expected. Now to tie them together.
“Compared to these two samples, how difficult would you estimate it to configure a scanner to detect Mipek as a life form?”
A raised eyebrow met his question, but the answer came quickly enough. “With current generation sensor equipment, a little more difficult than adjusting for Horta readings, but much less difficult than modifying for the cloud creature.”
“Yet both the Horta and the Tycho IV cloud creature are defined as living beings, by current scientific standards.”
“Affirmative.” It was not a question, but Spock confirmed the statement anyway, since he had been the primary author of the papers introducing both of those life forms to the scientific community. “The Horta were capable of intelligent communication and advanced learning. The cloud creature exhibited behaviors consistent with intelligent tactical thinking and emotional response.”
Tezkan clasped his hands behind his back and looked up to the judges panel.
“Gentle-beings of the court, the concept of a ‘life form’ has always been a fluid one for Starfleet, an institution responsible for the discovery of new life, in all its forms. There are many other instances throughout the logs of the Starfleet Explorer Corps, where life is found in the most unexpected configurations. I submit that it would be irresponsible and...short-sighted of this institution to define ‘life’ by the limited definitions used in civilian medical practices, as has been proposed by Mr. Cain.”
From his central seat among the judges panel, Aaron Satie gave the young Vulcan lawyer an amused smile. “So noted,” the venerable judge said, nodding over to the court clerk as well. “Do you have any further questions for this witness, Mr. Tezkan?”
“Yes, sir.” Unclasping his hands, Tezkan turned back around to face the ambassador in the witness chair once more. “Ambassador, during your time on the USS Enterprise, you once encountered a mechanized probe calling itself Nomad, correct?”
“Affirmative,” Spock confirmed.
“In your reports, you identified it as an ‘almost-life form’. Can you explain your reasons for that categorization?”
A raised eyebrow was Spock’s only sign of surprise at the question. He had been expecting to be asked about the Exo III androids or the M5 incident. Nonetheless, the comparison of Nomad was a relevant one.
“Nomad was originally a machine that held no more intelligence than a tricorder, merged with another machine that was more powerful, but no more intelligent. In their combining, it essentially became more than the sum of its parts. However, despite its impressive ability to learn and synthesize information, it was not able to...process its own imperfections, to learn from one’s own mistakes. That was the reason for my final analysis.”
Tezkan nodded along. “In contrast to Nomad, when you later encountered the more well-known V’ger probe entity, you officially categorized it as an ‘intelligent, sapient mind’, and then later as ‘transcendent’. What was your reason for this differing classification?”
Although it was a logical follow up, the ambassador actually paused for a moment to consider his response before speaking.
“V’ger... had a mind much more advanced than Nomad, and not just in terms of power or speed. It was already aware of its own flaws, its...emptiness. It sought answers to the great philosophical questions that only sapient beings would ask. And, in the end, I believe it had obtained the means to find its answers.”
From the corner of his eye, Tezkan could see the opposing counsel about to speak up. He predicted that it would most likely be an objection based on the fact that V’ger had merged with two biological beings to attain its transcendance. Quickly, he posed his next question before the other could interrupt.
“To clarify, do you confirm that V’ger’s mechanical nature did not preclude it from having a sapient mind, even before the influence of Lieutenant Ilia and Commander Decker?”
“Affirmative.” Spock’s answer was swift and firm.
That was enough to forestall the objection. But there was still one final part to this line of questioning.
“Then, given your interactions with Mipek during the time it has resided on Starbase One, how would you categorize it in comparison to Nomad and V’ger?”
The ambassador slanted a look at the still form of Mipek still hovering in place beside Tezkan’s empty chair.
“While Mipek is not nearly as powerful, nor possessed of the vast processing capabilities of Nomad and V’ger, I would say it is more advanced in how it thinks. It is able to apprehend imperfections in itself and others, it is able to ask philosophical questions and process the inherent paradoxes within philosophy, and it is able to learn and adapt to complex situations that sometimes have no clear answer.” For a moment, he almost looked amused. “Indeed, it is more similar to quite a few cadets that I have once taught.”
He then looked back toward his questioner. “To answer your question, Mipek is sapient, even more closely matching the classification than V’ger.”
That was about as comprehensive an answer as he was going to get on the matter. Tezkan nodded and faced the judges panel.
“I have no further questions.”
Judge Satie nodded at him, then turned to the other lawyer. “Mr. Cain?”
The man in question grimaced. After a moment of thought, however, Cain shook his head. “No questions.”
Tezkan had predicted a 60% chance that the defense would try to bring up the M5 incident, and had his rebuttal planned out. But it seemed like the Daystrom Institute did not want to bring up that mark of shame in their history to begin with. It was just as well.
He waited for the witness stand to be cleared before calling the last witness on his list.
“I call Mipek to the stand.”
The normal witness chair was quickly rolled away, to be replaced by a contraption that had been especially put together for the occasion. Mipek’s chassis slotted into the new stand with a smooth beep, and the background light for the lie detector gently lit.
“Mipek, in the 2.25 years since the end of Captain Mbeki’s mission on the USS Odyssey, how many offers of...visitation, to other places in the Federation have you received?”
Preceded by a trill of beeping sounds, Mipek answered the question with an androgynous voice provided by its translator.
“Answer: Exactly 147. From a variety of universities, technical organizations, and corporations.”
“Did any of these invitations come with offers of benefits if you comply?”
“Answer: Affirmative. Exactly 47. A variety offers including monetary rewards, physical rewards, and others.”
“Have any of the offers have explicitly included emigration?”
“Answer: Affirmative. The Technocracy Interstellar Ministry of Gaen. The Technocratic University of Gaen VI. The Institute of Higher Learning, Solitude. University of Pyllix, Indoria. Gennon-Brand Infotech of Celos.”
It was a somewhat predictable list, with the only surprise being the main university on Solitude instead of the VSA. It was also a reminder that not all member worlds in the Federation had a dearth of experience, or at least legislative expectation, with regards to artificial intelligence. But, that still wasn’t the main point that Tezkan wanted to make.
“Given all of those offers, why have you remained at Starbase One?”
There was a small, almost human pause, before Mipek replied. “Answer: Because I chose to stay.”
That would have been enough for a Vulcan court, but in Tezkan’s experience, a bit more was needed for everywhere else. “Why?”
“Answer: Because there are friends here. Starfleet. Many of Starfleet are like me. I wish to learn with them. I wish to stay.”
Tezkan waited a moment longer to allow the response to sink into the silence of the room, before turning to the judge’s panel and breaking the silence.
“The prosecution rests.”
Judge Aaron Satie stood in front of the courtroom, his solemn gaze sweeping across the room as the court clerk moved through the formalities before the final verdict was given.
The representative from the Daystrom Institute wore a confident grin, but he could tell from the man’s fidgeting fingers that it was merely a layer of bravado covering great uncertainty. Naturally, the young Vulcan lawyer from the JAG was much better at maintaining a stolid appearance, with only the barest stiffness about his shoulders betraying tension. Even Mipek, the mechanical probe itself, was slightly fidgeting in place, ironically more similar to the human than to the Vulcan who defended it.
In the back of the room, a larger audience than even he was used to was spread about the seats. Surprisingly, Langa Mbeki was still present, quietly discussing some matter or other with Ambassador Spock. That was something he hadn’t expected, given what must be a busy schedule for the recently elected politician. Some, like the FBS reporter also in the audience, might chalk his continued presence up to a political statement. But Satie rather suspected it was simply a case of not being able to take Starfleet out of the officer.
As the court clerk finished with the formalities, all eyes came to rest onto Aaron Satie. Undaunted, the judge began to speak.
“This case placed before me today has superficially been about the necessities of progress and its risks. Indeed, I cannot deny that Starfleet has assumed a duty to deliver the truth and knowledge, in all its forms, to the Federation.
“However, it has also become clear that this case is also about life - the definition thereof, and about rights - where they must be extended, and where they might be denied. There is little in the way of direct legislation for purely mechanoid life forms in current Federation law. But then, there is little legislation to account for a great variety of life forms encountered at our frontiers.
“Yet, life is what we seek out, as the founding purpose of this institution. Can we keep to that noble ambition, while at the same time withholding the recognition of life if it does not meet our expectations? No. We cannot. We must recognize where there may be life, even when we might be wrong, rather than deciding there is not life, when we might be wrong.
“Thus, on reviewing the information presented today, it is the ruling of this court that the entity Mipek is entitled to the full rights this institution extends to all living beings. No Starfleet or affiliated party may coerce from, or deny it the freedom to choose.”
“Thank you, sir,” Yanag spoke with an aura of earnest relief. “It looks like my friends were right about you.”
“I acted logically; one does not thank logic,” Tezkan reflexively intoned, even as he stamped down the urge to track down Fujei and thoroughly interrogate the Betazoid about what rumors he’d been spreading.
“Observation: Gratitude is a natural social mechanism.” Mipek piped up from beside them. “Resistance is illogical.”
A hearty laugh broke into the small circle. They looked up to see Langa Mbeki join them, Judge Satie just behind him.
“Glad to see you haven’t lost that sense of humor, Mipek,” Mbeki teased with an easy smile, to which Mipek returned with a string of trilling beeps that was its approximation of laughter.
“Sirs.” Both Tezkan and Yanag straightened to attention at the senior officer and former senior officer.
“At ease.” Satie waved a hand at the two younger men, then turned to regard Tezkan in particular. “You did a good job today, Lieutenant, but are you ready for the next step?”
“Sir?” the Vulcan tilted his head in askance. “To what are you referring?”
Satie gave him a fatherly look, and his voice took on a lecturing tone. “A ruling from Starfleet is one thing, and Mipek will certainly be in good hands with us. But remember that Starfleet is still an organization that answers to the Federation, not the other way around.”
“You are...speaking of having Mipek seek official Federation citizenship?” Tezkan said slowly, as realization dawned.
“It’ll certainly be a challenge,” Satie confirmed.
“Indeed, with the lack of jurisprudence on the matter...” Tezkan trailed off, mind already racing. As his thoughts tumbled through the possibilities, he murmured, as if to himself. “Perhaps it would be easier to gain citizenship of a member world first, though it would mean a temporary move from Terra--”
“Oh, no it doesn’t,” Mbeki interrupted him with great emphasis. Seeing all attention directed to him after the outburst, he clarified. “Speaking as someone who is in a position to effect legislative change, of course. I can’t believe something as antiquated as those Acts of Cumberland are still on the books.” He gave Mipek a confident look. “Rest assured, I’ll see to it that you’ll be able to obtain citizenship for Earth.”
Mipek trilled back its gratitude. “Declaration: I am honored by friends from Starfleet.”
“I’m glad someone was,” a cool voice suddenly spoke up behind the group, “considering how three of my research teams have tied themselves up in this court drama.”
“A-admiral Eaton!” Yanag was the first to call out, snapping to attention again.
“Oh, it was for a good cause, Admiral,” Mbeki turned to regard his former colleague with a grin. “Are you sure you’re not just sorry you missed it?”
“Hah.” Victoria Eaton returned a small smile at the rejoinder, apparently not as offended as her original words indicated. “I suppose my deadline problems might not compare to yours anymore, Mr. Parliamentarian-elect, so I won’t complain while you’re here. But seriously though,” her smile slipped for a bit, “anyone know where Ambassador Spock went?”
Mbeki tilted his head toward her. “He got called away earlier by Admiral Uhura.” He paused in memory. “Actually, it didn’t sound like a social call. Quite the opposite, in fact. Did something happen?”
“Maybe,” was the non-committal response from Eaton. “I suppose I should be rounding up the rest of my lost chicks then. I’ll see you around, Mr. Mbeki, Judge Satie. Specialist?” As she turned to leave, she gave the still attentive Indorian a meaningful look.
“Ah, yes sir! Bye sirs!” Yanag hurried after his ultimate boss.
With a trill, Mipek made to follow him. “Declaration: Thank you and farewell, Lieutenant Tezkan, Judge Satie, former-captain Mbeki.”
“Don’t be a stranger, Mipek!” Mbeki called after it. Then, he turned back to the two other men. “I don’t know whether or not to feel sorry for the Daystrom research team when she gets her hands on them.”
Satie snorted. “What did they expect, trying to pull a stunt like this right at the heart of Starfleet JAG?”
“Eternal vigilance, I suppose,” Mbeki mused, then turned a measuring look on the silent junior officer still standing nearby. “Well, looks like I’ve got my work still cut out for me. And I think you do too, Lieutenant.”
Although still disconcerted by Mipeks earlier declaration of friendship, Tezkan pushed it away in favor of more comprehensible matters.
“Yes sir, I am willing to provide further legal assistance to Mipek, should it seek to pursue the matter of citizenship. I will initiate contact after performing the relevant research.”
“Good!” Judge Satie nodded in satisfaction. “Starfleet might always answer to the Federation, but I’d like to think that we also light its way, sometimes in more ways than just the exploration of space.”
Foonotes:
Anthony Haftel is a canon character from TNG. Hopefully he'll learn his lesson here and not try to take away Data's kid in the future. Or maybe he'll come back later as an antagonist when we find Data. Who knows.
Areel Shaw is a canon character from TOS. I flipped a coin to see if she'd be too old to show up. But anyway, the last org chart I saw for the JAG department didn't have many high ranking spots anyway, so I guess most people there just languish at lower ranks or something...
Aaron Satie is yet another canon character from TNG. He was required reading for Picard at the Academy (and that's coming up soon too!) so he should be a famous judge around the current time.
