Discovery
The cybermen are truly a horrific species.
As some of you might know, I was originally a human being until they came to my colony, conquered it, and took everybody fit for conversion. Physically, I only maintain about eight percent of what I was, and the rest is machine. It was only a couple months ago when I discovered my parents had not been taken or killed as I originally thought. I had decided to leave them alone until about a week ago.
The planet I was raised on no longer holds a community, you see. When I visited it a while back, I found the survivors had left to make lives elsewhere, but not before erecting a huge monument to the ones who were lost. I can't tell you how chilling it was to find my picture among the others on display within the base of the monument. This was nothing compared to how I felt when I found my parents were one of the ones responsible for the monument's construction.
In any case, I decided to let them believe I was dead. At the time, I convinced myself it was better for them to cope with my death, than it would be for them to cope with the notion I had turned into a monster. It took some time, but I decided recently they should know the truth. I went to their home, only to discover they had died almost ninety years ago.
Yeah, I was kind of confused too.
Turns out, the cybermen didn't name me Kroton as I origionally thought. They used the word as a classification. I'm not the first cyberman to regain his humanity. The first one had a name (this was back before they started giving us numbers for the purpose of designation), and they've used the name for any cyberman exhibiting the same problems ever since then. It's their way of marking us, so the others would know we could possibly turn on them.
It's their practice to take the cybermen who have exhibited values that were not their own. They wipe any memories taking place after we've been converted (the only memories they have access to), disorient us by keeping us oblivious to the passage of time, and then rebuild us using current technology. There are evidently large period's of time before we're brought out of storage.
I've had this knowledge the entire time. All Cybermen need to know this, just in case there's a Kroton serving with them. The knowledge simply doesn't become accessible until it's necessary. My confusion regarding the sizable time difference between my parent's death and my conversion was enough to release the "safety lock" on the information within my control-circuitry. This discovery had a rather profound effect on me, but it wasn't as bad as it might have been.
It took a while for me to decide to come forward and reveal to my parents I was still alive; even after I made the decision, I was never one-hundred percent sure it was the best one. I've now been released from the burden of responsibility for their feelings. I don't have to torture myself with the possibility that either my death, or my re-birth might make them dead inside. They're gone, and their problems are over.
Cordelia told me recently I had the makings of a champion. I've never been entirely comfortable with labels, so I've been going out of my way to put a hold on the thoughts and feelings this notion has produced. Partly, I did this because I figured I had too much to worry about already. A very large chunk of that is suddenly gone, and it almost feels as though I've been paroled.
I discovered a ghost ship on the outskirts of the known shipping lanes a while ago. What I found within that ship made it clear help from a being like myself might be exactly what this portion of the galaxy needs. I think it's high time I make an effort to offer it.
