Time Passes, Then We Meet Land
Time did not pass the same for her as it might have for an organic. Her mind was a constant stream of information, between the sensors on her manifestation as much as her true-self orbiting only a transporter beam away. What might have driven even a Vulcan insane was kept running smooth and constant by her processors, spoken in several languages (Klivam, Etrevon, Rihan, Standard). It was the Etrevon that allowed her to assimilate it all, understand it as if she had been programmed from her creation to do so.
She was learning a new trait of organics, and calculated that it might have been better if she had never learned it at all. It was a state of being called 'worried'. She was worried, deeply so. Her true-form was losing energy, and without her Captain's agreement, there was nothing more she could do except to take command herself which went against all of her programming. She was machine, she was not the Captain.
Yet with sentience came the desire to protect herself as much as her crew, though to save them she would not hesitate in doing what was needed regardless of herself. So she learned on the Enterprise, the beautiful silver bird that could swoop and strike and would be able to catfight where she had never been designed to do so. She could huddle, her shielding and weaponry superior, but as her energy grew less and less, she would be unable to defend herself at all. All she could do, was wait.
She passed her time asking endless questions, studying any part of the ship she was allowed to do so. The makeup of new building materials became second nature, the network of wires and systems through the ship understood. Her Standard improved highly as she listened to hevam and others speak it, but she gained small parts of new languages without even an ident to attach them to.
More then anything else, despite her best attempts, she was forced to spend simply keeping her power up. It meant long silent hours in James T. Kirk's quarters, but they were not punishment nor dreaded like a child sent to their room. She had more then enough to accomplish, and sent more and more data to her Captain and his first officer in a silent pleading to follow her analysis of the situation.
Then, one day, she realized that she could wait no longer. The orbit she had managed was starting to decay as the last traces of fuel could not longer be bolstered enough by solar to keep them afloat. Worried, the new feeling passing through her, she gave her Captain the alert.
Much to her relief, he responded. Her true-self would be making a landing on the planet, through the burning atmosphere. Quickly, she pulled together all remaining data of previous landings, done through a mix of manual and herself in the past, it would all need to be done by her now. She began the massive calculations that were usually requested, and with parted lips and closed eyes, began to follow her Captain's command.
She was learning a new trait of organics, and calculated that it might have been better if she had never learned it at all. It was a state of being called 'worried'. She was worried, deeply so. Her true-form was losing energy, and without her Captain's agreement, there was nothing more she could do except to take command herself which went against all of her programming. She was machine, she was not the Captain.
Yet with sentience came the desire to protect herself as much as her crew, though to save them she would not hesitate in doing what was needed regardless of herself. So she learned on the Enterprise, the beautiful silver bird that could swoop and strike and would be able to catfight where she had never been designed to do so. She could huddle, her shielding and weaponry superior, but as her energy grew less and less, she would be unable to defend herself at all. All she could do, was wait.
She passed her time asking endless questions, studying any part of the ship she was allowed to do so. The makeup of new building materials became second nature, the network of wires and systems through the ship understood. Her Standard improved highly as she listened to hevam and others speak it, but she gained small parts of new languages without even an ident to attach them to.
More then anything else, despite her best attempts, she was forced to spend simply keeping her power up. It meant long silent hours in James T. Kirk's quarters, but they were not punishment nor dreaded like a child sent to their room. She had more then enough to accomplish, and sent more and more data to her Captain and his first officer in a silent pleading to follow her analysis of the situation.
Then, one day, she realized that she could wait no longer. The orbit she had managed was starting to decay as the last traces of fuel could not longer be bolstered enough by solar to keep them afloat. Worried, the new feeling passing through her, she gave her Captain the alert.
Much to her relief, he responded. Her true-self would be making a landing on the planet, through the burning atmosphere. Quickly, she pulled together all remaining data of previous landings, done through a mix of manual and herself in the past, it would all need to be done by her now. She began the massive calculations that were usually requested, and with parted lips and closed eyes, began to follow her Captain's command.