OUTPUT (55719)"Good evening, Ensign. I've prepared the briefing that you requested - I suggest that you go over it once or twice. Some of the words are tongue twisters, but they should impact the Lieutenant Commander's opinion of you greatly"
OUTPUT (213874)"Lucky you, Private Millebank, I've been asked to keep a close eye on your inventory. Your rifle is improperly stowed. Belay it properly - such language! Do I need to put my running shoes on again?"
OUTPUT (23965) "Careful, yeoman. That conduit is still hot. You'll need to wait a minute. Replicator records indicate that you've never tried the rose pekoe blend of tea. I think you'll like it, if I'm at all good at predicting trends."
OUTPUT (11048) "I have received your telemetry, Lieutenant. I am beginning processing on star cluster Epsilon Tr'vasa."
OUTPUT (59260) "Yes, Commander?"
[USS Charon, Deck Three]
"Good evening, Savant. My apologies for disturbing you, however there is a rather urgent matter which I would like to discuss."
Sakarra had moved towards a window and watched the silver streaks of stars passing by. Hands clasped behind her back, she wondered how one would breach such a subject without causing more harm than had already been done. Artificial lifeform or no, one had to assume the feeling of having been violated remained the same. And the barely contained anger seething within the young Vulcan did not make this any easier.
But it had never been her way to circumvent truth, no matter how unpleasant. One could only hope Savant would understand it as such.
"Tell me, have you recently had reason to suspect something about your programming was not … as it should be?"
Savant was not organic, never had been - she had very little to go on when it came to understanding the basis of organic emotions. She had no neurotransmitters, no hormones, no cerebro-spinal system to conduct the feelings. She was capable of making a darn accurate model, however, and fortunately all organics tended to stay within a tight prediction range for their species. She was able to detect the tense breathing, subtle for a Vulcan but perceptible for the ships' sensors, and she was capable of detecting the strong Vulcan rush of communication chemicals in the Commander's copper blood. And she was able to tell that the situation was important.
Her avatar hologram appeared with more of a pop than a hum; showers of white flecks of light shed off of her translucent skin like water droplets from a shower. The tall multi-ethnic human hologram floated a short span form the ground, composed and calm. "I'm sorry, Commander? What do you mean?" she asked, placid as a Buddha, while her scattered subroutines turned upon one another vociferously. Something was wrong? Something was wrong with one of them? One of *her*?
She had turned, mildly startled by the sudden appearance of a hologram shimmering into view. Usually, this would have been commented with at least a fractionally raised brow, but the young Vulcan's features remained set in marble as she studied the avatar, floating in her quarters and illuminating the darkness with a beautiful, near surreal glow.
"What I mean is that I have … obtained information which suggests that parts of your memory have been altered, Savant. More than that, you have been … coerced into performing tasks which you otherwise might have declined to perform."
Concealing both her anger and – yes, heartbreak, there simply was no other word for it – that not only this life had been treated in such ways but that it had been Vulcans who would have committed such an act, Sakarra inclined her head slowly. It took more effort by the minute to keep her temper in check and her body from responding to the mind's turmoil, but she managed still.
"I must also inform you that this has been done to you on my home planet. And although there is no apology that could ever suffice, I must nonetheless offer a plea for forgiveness."
Even Savant showed outward signs of duress. Oh, the expression on her avatar's face was as peaceful as ever; peaceful and calm and serene, as if the Commander were asking for a mundane mission report. However, the image wavered as it hung in the air, even freezing its gentle simulation for a few moments, going utterly still and sparkling with light as the program found itself too busy to tend the holoprojectors. Were the Commander aware of the sudden frenzied excoriation, the dramatic self-immolation of activity as the program scoured itself for this flaw.
It was only a moments' delay before the program returned to itself. "By your tone, I understand that you were not involved. Thank you for sharing this with me, Sakarra. Am I privy to any further information on the event? I would like to deal with this as quickly as possible. I'm sure you understand."
But Savant wasn't so sure of the statement. Did she understand. Could she possibly? Savants' services were disrupted across the ship nearly as a whole. She hunted, frantic, gobbling up processor time wherever it was to be had, halting non-essential services, stalling tasks, all to deal with this infection. She had been infected before. It was with growing horror that the memory nodes resurfaced, unbidden.
"Yes, I believe I can … comprehend. And I would be deeply gratified if I could assist."
There was no sign of distress on the avatar's face, but the sensation was present, if not all permeating. Instinct mingled with the sharp eye of Solkar's grandchild insisted that this AI was … agitated.
"For the moment, all I know is that a most sophisticated Valit was used to infiltrate your program, and while I am far from being a specialist such as the one who may have designed it, it may be possible for me to at least identify the code so you may track down the … infected areas."
Her voice had been laced with steel up until now, but slowly a softer timbre crept into the melodious words, indicating silent grief.
"Savant. I understand my request may seem preposterous at this moment. However, I believe you were … altered … in order to detect neutrino emissions related to the presence of a wormhole and relay your findings to T'Pelar alone, perhaps some of her aides. I have no sufficient data to confirm any of this. I need to gain proof. May I ask your help … and request that you neither inquire about my methods nor alert anyone to this … just yet?"
[To be continued ...]
The Semi-Autonomous Varied Algorithm Network Trainer (Savant)
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm
USS Charon
