Setting things in motion...

Posted on Wed Aug 17th, 2011 @ 5:30pm by Captain Nathan Cowell MD & Lieutenant Colonel Anastasia DeVries & Lieutenant Commander Aral Aix

Mission: Tomorrow's Arizona
Location: Commodore's Ready Room, Bridge, USS Arizona
Timeline: Immediately following 'Uneasy Alliance Part II'

Commodore Nathan Cowell looked around himself, as if to confirm that he really was back in his office. The only thing that he found out of place was the drone that was currently gripping his shoulder. She didn't seem to think the contact was out of sorts, even if Nathan sincerely wanted to deck her square in the face for ever thinking of touching him. With every shred of self control he could summon, the old man calmly addressed the drone as politely as possible.

"Get your damn hand off me..." the Commodore growled.

The drone withdrew the hand as requested and simply regarded Nathan passively, as if all his anger was as irrelevant as resistance to their assimilation efforts would have been had they decided to shot first and ask for help second. Her apathetic look... if it truly could be called apathy in the first place, just made Nathan all the more unhappy with the arrangement he had basically walked into without really thinking. As he watched the drone's face, he couldn't honestly blame her. She wasn't the root of the evil, merely a victim of the Borg and their ways... But he still didn't like having her around.

"So what is it you're going to do around here?" Nathan asked the drone, wondering if it was even capable of independent communication.

"This unit is your Primary Adjunct," the drone responded in a semi-metallic tone, "Our primary function is to direct the various drones aboard this vessel according to your wishes. We shall coordinate all actions related to the adaptation of this vessel with you."

"So you're like a... mini-Queen or something?" Nathan asked sarcastically.

"We are not designated as a Unimatrix. We are simply a Primary Adjunct drone capable of directing small groups of drones independently. We do not speak for the Collective in full, nor can we control the many as one," the drone replied.

"It's not 'we'..." Nathan growled at the lack of individuality the drone was capable of comprehending, "It's 'I'..."

The Commodore watched as the drone looked upon him impassively as he explained the difference between speaking for many and speaking for herself. The blank look on her face normally meant that someone didn't understand what he was saying, but deep down Nathan knew they had all at one time understood the distinction between self and group. Regardless of whether the drone could comprehend his discomfort at hearing her refer to herself in the familiar Borg fashion or not, he was still going to voice it.

"You got a name?" Nathan asked with a frown as he folded his arms across his chest.

"We have been given the designation One of Seventeen for the duration of this assigned function," the drone replied.

"So if I shortened that up, it would be One," Nathan grunted, no less thrilled with her lack of proper nomenclature than he was with her utter lack of individuality.

"What is the purpose of an abbreviated designation?" the drone inquired suddenly.

"So I can call you quickly if I need your attention. I can't just think it and you pick up on it. Gotta boost efficiency where we can with what we have to work with and all that," the Commodore grumbled as he came up with the best excuse possible. In truth, he just didn't want to have to keep saying 'One of Seventeen' every time he turned around to chide the thing for being... alive...

"Efficiency is acceptable. We will relay the abbreviated designation scheme you have provided to all drones within this vessel. They will respond to their own abbreviated designations in accordance with your will," the drone replied.

Nathan's eyes narrowed as he watched the drone speak. There was something just one side of odd about the way she looked that gave the old man pause... Shaking his head, the old man banished the thought and headed for the door. The drone was at his heels the moment he moved, following out onto the bridge. The fact that he was being tailed by a Borg drone wasn't half as disturbing, at least in Nathan's mind, as the sight he beheld. Hats as ungodly and tacky as one could ever hope to find cluttered up his bridge with a vengeance best left for your arch-nemesis. It was almost painful to look at, and if he thought about it for more than a brief moment, he might have had an aneurism.

"What in the name of all that is good and wholesome and decent in this damn universe is covering your damn heads?! Have you lost your fucking minds?!" the Commodore yelled in vented frustration.

Lieutenant Commander Aral Aix was startled at the sight of a Borg drone standing behind the Commodore, it's hand - once again-resting on the old man's shoulder. White with fight, - but still resplendent in his hat - Aral articulated a question of his own for Cowell. "What's that on your shoulder?"

Nathan seethed at the feeling of the mechanical hand on his shoulder and, with an index finger, pushed it off with a look of disgust on his face rivaling that of the disgust he had for the parade of fashion fail around him.

"This is the Primary Adjunct for all of the drones that are coming aboard to make the Arizona less of a target for everything with a phaser array in this time period. We've made a deal and for the time being, they are our friends..." Nathan said, laying on as much disdain and hatred as he could squeeze in to the sentence.

Lieutenant Colonel Anastasia DeVries seemed not at all phased by the sudden inclusion of the drone in their midst and declared rather abruptly, "She will need a hat of her own!"

"Abso-fucking-lutely not!" the Commodore thundered, "Now take those damn things off and get back to work! I'm going to go handle coordinating the upgrades... You people clean this shit up..."

The old man stormed toward the turbolift, the drone dutifully following behind just a step or so. Nathan passed by his daughter, who was also sporting one of the offensive head pieces, and stopped dead in his tracks. He gave her a hard look, then glanced back at the drone who had stopped just as soon as he had. The look of unequaled rage crossed his face as he turned back and snatched Lieutenant Junior Grade Elizabeth Marion's hat off her head, throwing it across the compartment in a fit of misdirected hatred toward everything that was going on around him. The Commodore mounted the turbolift along with the drone and disappeared from sight, leaving the bridge crew staring after him.

Suitably admonished the Chief Science Officer silently removed the artistically significant cerulean sculpture that formed his headwear and replaced it in one of the hat boxes that now littered the deck. "Well we know what to get him for his next birthday," He muttered quietly in the direction of Anastasia DeVries before jumping up and heading in the direction of the turbolift the Commodore had used to depart. In his outburst the old man had mentioned upgrades, the prospect of a close look at twenty-seventh century Borg technology was surely worth any grousing the Nathan could administer.