Disclaimer: Kitt and anything Knight Rider isn't mine. See Glen A. Larson.

Rating: PG for slight violence
Thank you to Tomy as always, for the beta read.

Ifs, Ands, and Buts

Kitt winced as Coltan stabbed the 'fire' button and the rocket-propelled grenade leapt out of the launcher mounted under his hood. To his nanosecond processor, the few seconds it took for the grenade to hit its target seemed like an eternity. He secretly willed the ordinance to fail somehow, to miss its mark and go wide. But of course, it never did. His systems were too finely honed. The black sedan in their path skidded to a halt and tried to change direction, but it was too late. The grenade detonated and the car flipped over, engulfed in an inferno.

"Status, KITT," Coltan yelled.

"No survivors," he responded, trying to keep the horror out of his voice. He was not up to another verbal beating by Coltan. It was best to just accept these things and try to move on.

"Yeah!" Coltan yelled, slapping the dash with is big, meaty hands. "Good shooting, KITT!"

Kitt had long ago disabled his Eject Left function. On days like this, it was just too tempting. On days like this, he really missed Michael.

Michael Knight was the fantasy that Kitt carried around with him and guarded with all the strength he had left. He told no one about how much he wished that Michael were still alive, not even Bonnie. She was one of the few people that Kitt believed honestly cared about him, but he had learned the hard way that humans couldn't really be trusted. And if they could, he'd certainly lose them through some unfortunate circumstance or another.

Kitt watched as Coltan exited the cabin with military crispness and cautiously approached the burning hulk of the sedan. He held his gun out in front of him, ready just in case Kitt was wrong.

Michael didn't carry a gun. Of course, that was part of the problem, everyone said. That was why he was killed on their first case. That was why everything had to be different now. Kitt had valiantly fought that battle, many times, and with anyone who would listen, but he always lost. They were afraid.

He hadn't understood at the time how truly devastating Michael's death had been to the Foundation. He hadn't known about FLAG's first operative, Ken Franklyn, who was also killed while on a case. That made two operatives who died in the line of duty -- in Michael's case, before he even brought down a single criminal. That wasn't a good track record. It wasn't long after Michael's death that the board reassigned Devon Miles. They hired Retired Colonel Daniel Kasten to be a more aggressive leader, and filled the Foundation's ranks with a whole host of weapons specialists to refit Kitt's systems. They wanted to make Kitt a tactical vehicle. They threw away everything that Wilton believed in because of Michael Knight's death. The dream died with the name, Kitt thought.

It wasn't long before they realized that in addition to the guns, there would need to be changes to Kitt's programming. His primary principle, to protect human life at all costs, was incompatible with the Foundation's new outlook. They had spent months trying to correct that problem - installing code load after code load. He was still programmed to protect human life, of course, but now there were a whole host of ifs, ands, and buts. Rules of engagement, Coltan called them. And Kitt couldn't argue with the basic concept. If a criminal was going to kill people, it was certainly better to kill the criminal first, rather than let innocent people die. He accepted that as logical, but the tendrils of his original programming had never been completely removed. Like KARR, he was fatally flawed, and no amount of reprogramming would entirely erase what he was. He hated knowing that his systems were used to kill. He hated watching that last little spike on his heart monitor disappear, as life ebbed away from someone -- especially when he knew he was at fault.

KARR. That was another little fantasy that Kitt had. When they had first run across KARR in an old Foundation warehouse, Kitt had been sure that everything was going to be all right again. KARR didn't have issues with killing people; they could pair him with Coltan instead. But KARR was too much of a monster - he would kill indiscriminately. So after a brief reprieve, Kitt was back out on missions with Coltan again.

Bonnie always tried to console Kitt with the idea that these were bad people. They caused others pain. She explained that he was like a police officer, or a soldier. Sometimes in their jobs they had to kill, and it was acceptable and expected that they do so. Criminals were not the sort he was supposed to mourn. Kitt understood that, but he still couldn't help the horror he felt every time it happened.

And with Coltan at the wheel, it happened a lot. It wasn't that Coltan was a sadist or loved death; he just didn't hate it as much as Kitt did. And where Kitt would find other means to apprehend someone, sometimes Coltan just went for the kill. It was easier and less risky to them, but Kitt wanted to give every other option a chance first. Coltan had never disobeyed the rules of engagement, but he also never bothered to think of a different approach, once the minimum conditions had been met.

And that's where Michael Knight came in. Michael was former military, like Coltan, but didn't seem nearly as rule bound and rigid. Granted, Kitt had known him only briefly and he had not been a very likable sort, but Coltan never would have entered a demolition derby contest to smoke out a criminal. It was not his style to bother with such a time consuming ruse. He always took the shortest, bluntest path between A and B, and avoided anything that might require a little finesse. Of course, Kitt hadn't been a fan of the demolition derby at the time, but now it seemed harmless, and even fun by comparison.

Coltan returned to the car and holstered his gun. "Call the Colonel and tell him we finished off the leaders of the Moller Cartel. Find out the next assignment and make sure Barstow fixes that launcher. It was slow to deploy again. Or maybe you were just being a coward?"

"I'll have Bonnie look at it as soon as we're back at headquarters, Coltan." Kitt knew it was better to just ignore the insults. Coltan would stop talking sooner that way. They never talked once the necessities had been communicated, unless Kitt tried to argue some point with him. He had learned it was never worth the berating - he always lost in the end anyway. That was another thing he had liked about Michael Knight. True, Michael had told him to shut up, but after a while he had come around. Michael had at least politely asked him to do things instead of grunting orders or insulting him.

Kitt sighed. Maybe he was fooling himself. Maybe he would have come to loathe Michael Knight as much as he did Robert Coltan. Maybe it was only in death that he had grown fond of Michael. If only he had realized how truly grave Michael's injuries were as they made their desperate dash to the Millston airport. He was certain that things would have been different if Michael had lived.

Kitt thought back to that night, to when he had finally realized that Michael's wishes could no longer be obeyed. Michael had fallen unconscious and his vital signs were fading. Kitt had taken control of the car and turned them back, to rush for the hospital. With each beat of Michael's heart, Kitt fervently hoped that there would be another beat following it. But the beats had grown weaker and then stopped entirely. They were still two miles from the hospital, when Michael's heart stopped. Kitt had never felt helpless before, but he certainly had that night. If he had been human, he could have done CPR, but Michael didn't have a human partner, so Michael died.

Maybe that's where his horror at death began -- watching those little spikes slowly grow fainter and then cease. Kitt assumed it was his programming that was the problem, but maybe it was more than that. Maybe the guilt he carried around with him wasn't a result of his programming, but a result of his experiences. Kitt had failed Michael Knight on their first assignment together. Maybe this life was meant to be his punishment.

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knightshade
04-20-03