Prompt 5.1
From Ten Forward there was always a view of the starfield outside of the ship. It wasn't exactly a "view" as it wasn't actually windows, but rather a series of view screens meant to emulated windows that recorded the passing of residual light the sensors detected from stars at warp speed, streaking across the detectable spectrum due to their varying wavelengths and the particular density, age, or type of the star in question. It made for interesting watching, as no matter how many times they traveled a route usually Lt. Commander Data would see a variance in position and spectral trail left by passing those celestial bodies. Today, they all looked the same. Every little dot leaving behind a colorful trail of the same shape, length, and set of colors. He could tell that it was abnormal, but at the same time it seemed perfectly acceptable. His arms were settled on the table in front of him, fingers twined as he sat facing that trailing starfield and wondered over it curiously.
"Data," Commander Riker announced as he took a seat beside of him. Steam drifted up from his cup of raktijino, fragrant and bitter. More bitter than Data would prefer, but even in the unpleasant sensation he drew valued experience; in annoyance and difficulty there was knowledge to be gained as well as curiosity that needed to be satiated (such as why such drinks were popular among humans whose taste buds weren't specialized to accept all the facets of the beverage).
"Commander?" he said, questioning more than greeting at the bearded man's presence. Riker just beamed a pleasant smile, flashing perfect white teeth and bright eyes that were just a little too kind for a casual conversation, and a dark brow climbed higher on Data's forehead as he regarded him.
"I just want to see how you're doing, Data. We've not really sat down and talked for a while."
"Does this have to do with the altercation with the Borg queen a few months back?" A few months. It took some effort not to say the exact time. Three months, twelve days, fifteen hours, four minutes, forty-three point zero two seven five seconds and counting.
"Not necessarily." Riker took a casual sip of his coffee. Data stared with that curious expression affixed to his face. The Commander stayed quiet for a bit, until his smile faded to something more muted.
"Maybe a little."
"I believe this discussion has already been held between the Counselor and myself, and unless she has broken ethical binds of confidentiality, which I find highly unlikely, I do not believe she would have had cause to solicit your aid in my emotional recovery."
"No, no..." He waved his hand dismissively, cutting Data off. A huff, and a pinched look and he was attempting to gather himself together. "It's different between a counselor and a patient. But this is man to man. Friend to friend. You weren't just kidnapped by the Borg, you were manipulated by a powerful woman, disfigured, used against your friends..."
Data returned a tight-lipped, sweet smile. "Thank you, Commander. I was not entirely aware if everyone knew the misfortune in the experience. I appreciate having the confirmation that they are aware of the unsavory details."
Riker snorted, looking down into his cup, seeking answers in steaming liquid. "Oh, no. He's learned sarcasm. Whatever shall we do?"
"There are several courses of action sir. I would recommend yellow alert to have everyone on stand-by."
"Don't push it, Data." He was still smiling, though. His humor hadn't completely failed.
Data looked back to that oddly monotonous starfield, trying to figure out why it was slightly wrong. Why it was out of place. "In truth Commander, while you might not understand the appeal, she was genuinely seductive. The Borg Queen's appeal was not in what she offered, but what she gave. No other individual, not even my own father, dedicated so much attention to making me as close to human as possible. But in doing so, in bringing me that much closer to an organic nature, she also removed me from it. While I understand that morality among humans is meant to maintain a social infrastructure and acceptability in the group, there is something admirable in its pursuit. It has made humanity adaptable, and the Borg do not even realize in their vast networked intelligence the subliminal and instinctual urges of mankind to form and maintain those groups are precisely why they covet their introduction into the collective. I nearly lost my connection to my group, and I felt morally inept for even remotely considering her offer. I experienced humanity, and briefly considered removing myself from it..."
Riker listened intently. He always had a way of looking at someone like he was faintly amused by them, by a friend, anyway (an enemy his eyes cut through like diamonds through glass). Not like he was dismissing their problems, but considering them with sagely experience beyond his years. "Data," he said, ever patient. Ever understanding. An older brother figure if there ever was one. "Humans can be tempted. In Christian folklore, they had a story involving a perfect society, Eden-" he held up a finger as Data started to open his mouth. "-Don't start without me. I know you know the story. You know every story."
With a small look of resignation, Data kept from interrupting. He was getting better about it, and he allowed Riker to continue.
"You were given a learning experience. She was the snake. Humanity was the fruit. You took a bite and now you're dealing with the consequences. But like Adam and Eve, you're not living in ignorance anymore. You know more about the world before you entered the situation..."
"You have a point, Commander..." Data observed, committing his words to thought. "I now feel a connection to humans that I did not previously have the capacity to relate to the intricacies of their sensations." Still, he felt a little guilt in that. Who had that original skin sample belonged too? What crew member donated their sclera and iris so that he might share his father's blue eyes? And now his artificial ones stung at the memory, pressure building behind them.
"Data? Are you-" Riker leaned in, squinting. Data sniffed and wiped at the corner of his eye with his thumb.
"I apologize, sir, I have little control over my emotional reactions when my emotion chip is fully active."
"No! No, Data, look!"
The android's gaze swiveled down to his thumb, to the bit of ink black liquid there. Again he reached up, swiped his eyes, and looked at the heels of his hands. Dark smears. No, not really liquid. Tears thick with nanobots. There were Borg nanites inside of him.
"Commander!" he started, standing up even as his C.O. moved back so quickly that his chair dropped onto its back and coffee spilled across the table, every bit as dark as those tears.
"Data! You need to get to engineering..." he said, pointing even as he tapped his comm badge. "Security! We need you in Ten Forward." It was about when the look of realization, of utter terror crossed Riker's face that he looked to the bar.
The entire back wall was pulsing with cords and dark structure, as if it had happened when their backs were turned. Guinan was standing their solemnly, her ever-knowing visage dead of that fascination and now just wires and unfortunate bits of remaining flesh that could only stare at them with an empty gaze. The doors to the turbolift opened, and Security entered. Rhythmically marching, and and as morbidly altered as Guinan. They headed for Riker rather than Data, only moving to deflect the android as he uselessly attempted to stop them from assimilating the first officer. Even as trails of pain crept under his skin, Data saw them oozing through the walls of the ship. They were turning everything black.
The stars in the starfield, they had all been the same. Even if they were supposed to be unique, they'd all been identical, and Data was helpless to change it.
Nyeeeoooww!
Data sat up quickly, as if someone had just tweaked his power switch. He never needed to react like that, but he'd always been anxious to get upright. On his thighs Spot had settled, swishing her tail and delivering a wholly indignant look.
There were no creeping lines of black disaster, or nanites pouring from his artificial tear ducts. It was a bizarre dream, and he was safely in his quarters surrounded by familiar things.
Nyeeauuoow! Spot insisted, putting her paws up on his chest. He put her down on the floor and leapt up in a near tangle of sheets, going to the computer console along the wall. “Computer! Bring up the view from the port bow.” Streaks of light and color filled the screen. Familiar, but not monotonous. Nothing connected to the terror that still had his artificial heart pounding.
"Yes, you will be fed," he assured Spot, sulking from where she was abandoned. "And I will make another appointment with the Counselor while you are enjoying your breakfast."
Character: Data
Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Words: 1,521
Prompt: 5.1 Color: Black
Comments: Here
"Data," Commander Riker announced as he took a seat beside of him. Steam drifted up from his cup of raktijino, fragrant and bitter. More bitter than Data would prefer, but even in the unpleasant sensation he drew valued experience; in annoyance and difficulty there was knowledge to be gained as well as curiosity that needed to be satiated (such as why such drinks were popular among humans whose taste buds weren't specialized to accept all the facets of the beverage).
"Commander?" he said, questioning more than greeting at the bearded man's presence. Riker just beamed a pleasant smile, flashing perfect white teeth and bright eyes that were just a little too kind for a casual conversation, and a dark brow climbed higher on Data's forehead as he regarded him.
"I just want to see how you're doing, Data. We've not really sat down and talked for a while."
"Does this have to do with the altercation with the Borg queen a few months back?" A few months. It took some effort not to say the exact time. Three months, twelve days, fifteen hours, four minutes, forty-three point zero two seven five seconds and counting.
"Not necessarily." Riker took a casual sip of his coffee. Data stared with that curious expression affixed to his face. The Commander stayed quiet for a bit, until his smile faded to something more muted.
"Maybe a little."
"I believe this discussion has already been held between the Counselor and myself, and unless she has broken ethical binds of confidentiality, which I find highly unlikely, I do not believe she would have had cause to solicit your aid in my emotional recovery."
"No, no..." He waved his hand dismissively, cutting Data off. A huff, and a pinched look and he was attempting to gather himself together. "It's different between a counselor and a patient. But this is man to man. Friend to friend. You weren't just kidnapped by the Borg, you were manipulated by a powerful woman, disfigured, used against your friends..."
Data returned a tight-lipped, sweet smile. "Thank you, Commander. I was not entirely aware if everyone knew the misfortune in the experience. I appreciate having the confirmation that they are aware of the unsavory details."
Riker snorted, looking down into his cup, seeking answers in steaming liquid. "Oh, no. He's learned sarcasm. Whatever shall we do?"
"There are several courses of action sir. I would recommend yellow alert to have everyone on stand-by."
"Don't push it, Data." He was still smiling, though. His humor hadn't completely failed.
Data looked back to that oddly monotonous starfield, trying to figure out why it was slightly wrong. Why it was out of place. "In truth Commander, while you might not understand the appeal, she was genuinely seductive. The Borg Queen's appeal was not in what she offered, but what she gave. No other individual, not even my own father, dedicated so much attention to making me as close to human as possible. But in doing so, in bringing me that much closer to an organic nature, she also removed me from it. While I understand that morality among humans is meant to maintain a social infrastructure and acceptability in the group, there is something admirable in its pursuit. It has made humanity adaptable, and the Borg do not even realize in their vast networked intelligence the subliminal and instinctual urges of mankind to form and maintain those groups are precisely why they covet their introduction into the collective. I nearly lost my connection to my group, and I felt morally inept for even remotely considering her offer. I experienced humanity, and briefly considered removing myself from it..."
Riker listened intently. He always had a way of looking at someone like he was faintly amused by them, by a friend, anyway (an enemy his eyes cut through like diamonds through glass). Not like he was dismissing their problems, but considering them with sagely experience beyond his years. "Data," he said, ever patient. Ever understanding. An older brother figure if there ever was one. "Humans can be tempted. In Christian folklore, they had a story involving a perfect society, Eden-" he held up a finger as Data started to open his mouth. "-Don't start without me. I know you know the story. You know every story."
With a small look of resignation, Data kept from interrupting. He was getting better about it, and he allowed Riker to continue.
"You were given a learning experience. She was the snake. Humanity was the fruit. You took a bite and now you're dealing with the consequences. But like Adam and Eve, you're not living in ignorance anymore. You know more about the world before you entered the situation..."
"You have a point, Commander..." Data observed, committing his words to thought. "I now feel a connection to humans that I did not previously have the capacity to relate to the intricacies of their sensations." Still, he felt a little guilt in that. Who had that original skin sample belonged too? What crew member donated their sclera and iris so that he might share his father's blue eyes? And now his artificial ones stung at the memory, pressure building behind them.
"Data? Are you-" Riker leaned in, squinting. Data sniffed and wiped at the corner of his eye with his thumb.
"I apologize, sir, I have little control over my emotional reactions when my emotion chip is fully active."
"No! No, Data, look!"
The android's gaze swiveled down to his thumb, to the bit of ink black liquid there. Again he reached up, swiped his eyes, and looked at the heels of his hands. Dark smears. No, not really liquid. Tears thick with nanobots. There were Borg nanites inside of him.
"Commander!" he started, standing up even as his C.O. moved back so quickly that his chair dropped onto its back and coffee spilled across the table, every bit as dark as those tears.
"Data! You need to get to engineering..." he said, pointing even as he tapped his comm badge. "Security! We need you in Ten Forward." It was about when the look of realization, of utter terror crossed Riker's face that he looked to the bar.
The entire back wall was pulsing with cords and dark structure, as if it had happened when their backs were turned. Guinan was standing their solemnly, her ever-knowing visage dead of that fascination and now just wires and unfortunate bits of remaining flesh that could only stare at them with an empty gaze. The doors to the turbolift opened, and Security entered. Rhythmically marching, and and as morbidly altered as Guinan. They headed for Riker rather than Data, only moving to deflect the android as he uselessly attempted to stop them from assimilating the first officer. Even as trails of pain crept under his skin, Data saw them oozing through the walls of the ship. They were turning everything black.
The stars in the starfield, they had all been the same. Even if they were supposed to be unique, they'd all been identical, and Data was helpless to change it.
Nyeeeoooww!
Data sat up quickly, as if someone had just tweaked his power switch. He never needed to react like that, but he'd always been anxious to get upright. On his thighs Spot had settled, swishing her tail and delivering a wholly indignant look.
There were no creeping lines of black disaster, or nanites pouring from his artificial tear ducts. It was a bizarre dream, and he was safely in his quarters surrounded by familiar things.
Nyeeauuoow! Spot insisted, putting her paws up on his chest. He put her down on the floor and leapt up in a near tangle of sheets, going to the computer console along the wall. “Computer! Bring up the view from the port bow.” Streaks of light and color filled the screen. Familiar, but not monotonous. Nothing connected to the terror that still had his artificial heart pounding.
"Yes, you will be fed," he assured Spot, sulking from where she was abandoned. "And I will make another appointment with the Counselor while you are enjoying your breakfast."
Character: Data
Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Words: 1,521
Prompt: 5.1 Color: Black
Comments: Here