Persistence of Vision, pt 1

Posted on Tue Dec 25th, 2012 @ 2:19pm by Lieutenant Three of Seven

Mission: Funzone
Location: USS Arizona, Deck 3, Section 7
Timeline: Follows "Freudian Slips"

Since he had come aboard the Arizona, Three had redesigned the Captain's Ready Room, demolished and build new quarters for his use as well, overseen the clean up of the damage from the fire and flooding, acted as the ship's First Officer, checked onboard two new lieutenants, held watch on the bridge for two straight shifts, and attended a complete incident debriefing.

However, despite appearances to the contrary, the former Borg was not capable of operating non-stop for an indefinite period of time.

"The new deck is being laid on Deck Twenty," the diminutive drone commented, picking up from the laundry list of items that he'd been rattling off in the turbolift, as the pair exited into the hallway outside where the little engineer's personal quarters resided. In what was, perhaps, a demonstration of his own humor, Three had requisitioned quarters for himself on Deck Three, Section Seven. "Please ensure that all ascetics match those of the existing decks," the former Ocampa added, turning to look up at the round faced engineer.

"I'm familiar with carpet swatches," Hiram retorted glibly. The senior chief was technically only aboard the ship in order to monitor the Borg's process in adapting the android body to suit his cybernetic needs, but had agreed to 'watch over' the Arizona while Three would be... otherwise occupied.

As the door to the drone's quarters popped open, the Borg ignored the comment and continued running down his list. "The flush of the deuterium injector system should be complete. You will need to start up the reactor from a zero pressure..."

"No offense, son, but I designed the reactor when the prototype of this vessel was nothing but a drawing on a padd," Frost commented dryly, interrupting the lieutenant. "I'll make sure the carpet matches and the engine starts. You need to..."

Hiram made it all of two steps inside the door before he broke into a sweat.

"Holy HELL, the environmental system's on the brink," the man declared, making a beeline for the main computer interface on the far wall.

Watching as the engineer moved through the room, Three noted, "I have adjusted the environment of these quarters to suit my personal... comfort." Craning his head to one side, the drone asked, curiously, "Is it unpleasant?"

Staring at the environmental read out on the screen, Hiram slowly turned to face the small engineer. "Three... do you know what specifications you input?"

"The ambient temperature is precisely thirty-nine-point-one centigrade. Relative humidity is ninety-two percent," the drone answered simply. "I have also added a tetryon diffuser to..."

"These are the environmental standards of Borg vessels," Hiram remarked, interrupting the lieutenant a second time.

Three nodded. "That is correct," he stated, inclining his head as he inquired, "This makes you uncomfortable?"

"It's, ah, unexpected," the senior NCO replied candidly.

Straightening up, Three allowed himself a moment in which to consider that reply. "Were you unaware that I was Borg?" the drone inquired finally.

Hiram cleared his throat, opting instead to change the subject. "You should go take a sonic shower. You're not accustomed to having hair. You'll be a mess if you don't take regular care of your skin and hair," the cyberneticist remarked, stepping away from the computer interface to instead look around the largely empty confines of the Borg's personal space.

"Your bodies are a haven for any number of bacteria," Three remarked, beginning to disrobe. "It is estimated that there are five hundred to one thousand microbes resident on your skin."

"Well, your body is a haven for nanites. If it's all the same, I'll stick with the bacteria," Hiram answered flippantly, pausing to look back and ask, "Any difficulties in adapting? Servo rejection? Neural interface okay?"

"I am operating at thirty percent over prior peak performance benchmarks," Three answered succinctly.

Passing by the door to the room's inner most chamber, the engineer paused, surprised at what he didn't see there. "You removed the alcove," the man noted aloud.

"I found the experience of lying on a bed... pleasant," Three stated, folding his uniform and taking it to the replicator for recycling. "I requested an outdated model biobed from the station infirmary and have modified it to function in a similar manner to the one at the Daystrom Institute," the drone explained.

Making his way into the bedroom, the senior chief looked over the unorthodox regeneration matrix. "Not entirely my design," the engineer noted somberly, turning back toward the former drone. "It's infused with Borg technology."

Craning his head to one side, Three again assessed the man's reaction as a matter of curiosity. "It was necessary to assimilate it so that it would correctly interface with my cortical array," Three stated in his usual matter-of-fact tone, adding, "Again, you seem uncomfortable when I demonstrate those traits that make me Borg."

"It was a surprise when you adapted an arm to include assimilation tubules," the engineer admitted, crossing his arms as he regarded his patient and current cybernetic project. "We actually removed them... and they grew back."

Nodding simply, Three remarked, "Assimilation technology is the basic building block of Borg engineering. Without it, my nanites would be unable to asserting control over the bio-neural interface you created for me."

"It's convenient when we want you to assimilate something," Hiram admitted, edging past the drone as he started toward the door. Turning, the man added, "And damned unnerving when you just go and do it on your own."

Nodding, the drone said, "I understand. I will consult with you prior to assimilating anything further."

Giving a drone a long, hard look, the engineer finally nodded. "Good night," the senior chief remarked, pausing as he started to leave to add the obligatory, "...Sir."

Stepping into the small bathroom, the drone made its way inside of the enclosed sonic shower. The device activated as soon as he stepped on the shower pad, the warm glow of the ambient energy field forming around him as the pulses washed over his skin, lifting the accumulated dirt and grease off. Three had only rarely used the sonic shower, and never been aware of the sensation.

It... tickled.

Emerging from out of the bathroom, the drone laid down on the bed and allowed himself a moment in which to settle, to enjoy the feel of the cool pillow against his face, or the touch of cloth against the skin.

To feel like a person.

The drone's hand found the spot just beside the lay of the mattress, assimilation tubules leaping out to connect him to the underlying power supply, to be aware of a waning battery life and be made vulnerable by the constant cycle of recharging.

To be a machine.

"Computer, begin regeneration cycle."