Imitation of Life

Posted on Wed Feb 2nd, 2011 @ 6:43am by Lieutenant Three of Seven

Mission: Hippocratic Hijacking
Location: Various
Timeline: Current

Being positioned on the bridge was a new experience. On board the Comanche, duty had obligated the entity or machine to remain in the stardrive section for much of it's operating hours. It could correctly recall the number of times that it had visited the bridge of the Comanche. A total of four times in the whole of the period in which it had been delegated responsibilities as the acting Chief Engineer. The position was not the assignment to which the Daystrom Institute or Starfleet had originally granted it, that had been as a mission consultant and computer systems engineer. The posting had been the product of sound logic and planning. The mission of the Comanche had involved the Borg, and if there was one thing that it knew well that was the philosophy, tactics, and capabilities of the Borg. For it was of Borg.

That was to say, the parts that were left of it.

Three of Seven, central processing core of exploratory probe sigma-nine-four, was in essence only the partial remains of a skull and brain that had been heavily adapted by the Borg for the limited purpose in which the drone-probe performed its functions for the Collective - a function for which a physical body had been unnecessary. Three didn't look like a brain with only part of its skull however, as the medical cyberneticists and engineers of the Daystrom Institute had delved into the research of Brian Maddox and Roger Korby in order to design a synthetic android body that served as a vehicle and extension of it's being.

'It' referred of course to Three's physical self, which contained neither reproductive anatomy or sexual traits typical of humanoid species. The body having been fashioned to simulate the basic structure and outline of humanoid lifeforms. The only certain facet of it's existence prior to assimilation by the Borg was that Three had, for an extremely short time, been an Ocampa child. And to some extent still might be argued as such, being that the severed skull and brain were today in the same approximate condition as they had been for the last forty years. Perhaps in that respect, what the Borg had done to it was a mixed blessing. Forty years was twice what most Ocampa lived for, even if only a life half lived. In a display of this Delta Quadrant heritage, the artificial ears that had been attached to the reconstructed facial structure affixed to his actual remains were sculpted to resemble the elongated form of Ocampa ears. They had a 'pixie' or 'elf' quality to them, or so certain humans had been known to remark.

The uniform was also different. Even when only a provisional warrant officer for the Comanche's mission, Three had performed it's function aboard the ship in a pair of engineer's coveralls. When circumstances had become dire and he'd found himself as the vessel's chief engineer there had been no reason to change his dressing habits. Work in and around the engineering bay was necessarily what would be termed 'dirty work', the kind of tasks for which Starfleet had designed the engineering coverall to best suit. As an operations officer, posted on the bridge of a starship, the nature of Three's function had altered. In adapting to this new function, Three's dressing habits had to adapt as well.

Were it human, Three imagined that it may have felt some pride in the uniform. For a central processing core to be granted status as a Starfleet warrant officer had been a rather profound accomplishment for an entity that had, for many decades, been the Borg equivalent to a Class-IX probe. As of the orders that had brought him to the Arizona, Three was now a junior lieutenant in credit for the duties which it had performed in successfully bringing the Comanche home after the disaster that had killed many of the vessel's crew.

Instead of pride, Three was preoccupied by thoughts which were colored by an altogether different and unexpected emotional response to his change of assignments. The Comanche had been familiar to him. The Arizona was not. It seemed a fairly obvious distinction, as the two were of different classes of vessel, yet the 'change of scenery' which many had stated would be good for the small drone had instead proven to be an object of thought that rested heavily upon the Ocampan Borg's mind. A sense of detachment not unlike when Commander Nathan Benjamin had recovered the Borg probe and disconnected Three from the Collective.

The Comanche had been Three's new 'Collective'.

The thoughts were unnecessary distraction. The Arizona was Three's assignment now. A change to which the Borg would adapt in order to service this ship as his duties and obligation to Starfleet required. To that end, Three had already endeavored to make a positive impact upon the ship. Though no longer in the engineering department, the interplay between the function of operations and engineering allowed the child-like drone to integrate himself into it's new role efficiently.

Since Three had come aboard at Deep Space 6, it had been a machine of perpetual motion. First, Three had applied several security patches and upgrades in order to bring the version of LCARS up to date with the current stable release. Second, it had ensured the diagnostic firmware was up-to-date and functioning properly across the optical data network. Finally, Three had inquired with the engineers as to the last time that a level three diagnostic and maintenance had been performed on the primary computer core. Unfortunately, it had been in the middle of the task when a meeting had come up for which Lieutenant Roberts had not been available; however, Lieutenant Marion had filled in for that function.

Now, Three was on the bridge. With Lieutenant Roberts and several members of their department on the away mission to the planet, the Ops duty roster had to be adjusted and the simplest way was to have Three take the additional shifts with regard to the bridge. It had not ceased activity since coming aboard, but by Three's internal calculations it would not need to regenerate for another forty-eight hours. In the interim, the small drone was content to remain at it's station for all of that time if such were necessary for the operation of the ship. More than likely such would not need to be the case however, and Lieutenant Marion was scheduled to take the next shift. Three was already calculating which of the available options would be the most efficient use of it's time while off the bridge. A thorough review of the power usage by the waste-matter reclamators seemed the most functional task, as there seemed to be a one-point-nine percent surplus of energy being wasted in that area of the ship.

Resting one hand at an interface panel for data padds, the operations officer was oddly still to be working. Unlike organic lifeforms however Three did not need to make use of a tactile interface in order to input commands or data into his console. In the same way that a padd or tricorder interfaced with the ship's computer, so could Three. Internally, the drone was multi-tasking information as speeds well beyond what would be realistic were it using tactile inputs or static displays.

The warp core was providing stable power throughout the ship. Auxiliary power from the impulse-fusion reactors was available. Emergency batteries were fully charged.

Presently, eighty-four percent of total power generation was being consumed. Of that eighty-four percent, forty-nine was dedicated to warp propulsion - the main priority at the moment. Ten percent was dedicated to the navigational deflector, which was the secondary priority. From there, things trickled down in order to important to standard operations: Life support and environmental controls, medical support systems, and operation of the sensor arrays.

The optical data network was operating off of the primary computer core with no service discrepancies, powering LCARS-enabled terminals throughout the ship. Currently, computer access was available to all parts of the ship with no server or bandwidth restrictions. The level of user traffic was at acceptable levels for the current operating condition of the network.

The communications array was operating normally, with priority given to official Starfleet dispatches. There were currently twenty-seven messages being downloaded, with eighteen tagged as 'personal', six tagged as 'ALFLEET' or routine Starfleet message traffic, and three official notices from the Bureau of Personnel: one approved retirement and two rating change approval messages for enlisted crew members.

"Lieutenant?"

Glancing up, the child-like drone gave the blue-skinned crewman standing on the other side of the Operations console a cursory scan. Female. Bolian. Rank crewman apprentice. "Crewman Sekera," Three greeted the quartermaster simply, as it matched the being before him with the roster of Operations personnel which it had indexed earlier. Even though it may have appeared as though the Borg were giving its attention in full to the crewman, Three was in fact running a level one diagnostic on the lateral sensor array while simultaneously routing the three personnel action messages to the departments concerned with those individuals.

"You've been up here for a long time. I was wondering if I could get you anything?"

As an afterthought, Three copied the captain and first officer on the retirement message. Retirement from the service was often incurred obligatory social interactions concerning the leadership, such as the conduct of retirement ceremonies and the processing of various administrative tasks in the release from active duty. At the time, the Borg was attempting to decipher the offer made by the Bolian crewman. The question seemed to assume some common point of reference for which the Borg had no accounting. "Such as?" the drone inquired finally, blinking as it looked at the quartermaster with curiosity about her meaning.

"I... well, I was going to the mess hall. Could I get you something to drink maybe?"

'Get you anything': an offer for the social imbibing of beverages, Three noted, filing away the new piece of information for later recall as it was now capable of fashioning an appropriate response. "That will not be necessary," the Borg replied curtly, inclining his head back toward the console. It was an unnecessary motion as, in fact, Three had never ceased performing its functions at the console during the conversation but Three had learned that physical actions - in particular the directional focus of the head - was a key point of social interaction. In this case, Three was demonstrating that his part in the conversation was concluded.

In that regard, Three had indexed another part of social protocol which had been neglected in the exchange. Raising it's head back up, Three politely added, "But thank you for the offer."