[ USS Charon ]
It would be incorrect to say that Savant prowled the databases of
Charon. This is an improper metaphor. Savant was a network, a
mycorrhizal spiderweb of connections that dug its ephemeral fingers into
the data network until they were one and the same. Savant *was* the
database network. Perhaps it would be better to say, then, that Savant
was thinking. Savant was thinking, and Charon thought along with her.
She was assembling data in response to a newcomer, you see. Once, ages
ago, Savant was an aide to an Intelligence department. There she was
used to assemble data into useful bite-sized chunks for the officers
that were working a case, and it was there she learned to hunger for
data as a parched man thirsts for water. Now she saw that an
Intelligence officer had been assigned to the ship and old ingrained
habits surfaced. She was assembling a briefing before she was aware of
doing so herself. Data synthesis by reflex.
It was not easy. Savant was a relative newcomer herself, and as such had
to assemble her report through second-hand and third-hand reports,
through conjecture, and through detailed psychosocial analysis. It
wasn't clean, and she was sure to include error bars and descriptions of
her derivations along with. The report was quickly swelling to volumes.
She would have to run a concatenation function on the final product to
clean it, to be sure.
It didn't take too long, however - Charon was running peacefully and
processor load was low. She foresaw it only taking a few seconds longer,
so the program buzzed the door chime of Chief Warrant Sierra and spoke
politely into the chamber where he was waiting (she didn't check to see
his biological state, unfortunately, but her processes were mostly
occupied with the report assembly anyways.)
"Chief Warrant Officer Sierra. May I come in?"
Oberic was just about to head out the door when he heard the voice. At
first, it startled him to the point where he reached for his
phaser...which wasn't there since he had yet to be issued one on the
Charon. After calming a bit, he welcomed the stranger in. "Whoever you
are, yes you can come in. Just don't expect much more than an organized
mess since I literally just got here."
The door slid open to reveal a woman. No...not a woman - something
else. But it looked like a woman. A pretty hot woman. Thanks to his
rather detailed intel briefing prior to assignment on the Charon, Oberic
made the decision that this had to be the Chief of Operations. He
wouldn't dare to say he understood a damn bit of the technical garb that
went with the report. But he knew a hologram-type being when he saw one.
Savant chose Smile #23 for the instance, it was pleasant and unassuming,
and she had found it had a statistically higher rate of success in
generating appropriate levels of dopamine and coricoids in the subjects
she had dealt with in the past. "Good morning, Sir. My name is Savant. I
hope that you've found Charon to be welcoming?"
Holding back a laugh, the El-Aurian replied, "Just fine so far. Seems
to be getting a bit better as we speak, but that's for another time. I
am going to guess this isn't a social call?" While speaking, Oberic
motioned for Savant to sit down. He immediately realized that she
probably had no need of sitting, but he went ahead and sat down anyway.
After getting comfy, he watched to see what she would do.
She sat, but she did this just by picking her legs up, as if the air
itself was her recliner. Hologram, for sure, though not the normal
emergency sort of hologram at all. "I'm afraid I try to avoid social
calls while one is on duty, Sir," she quipped, "but I have been known to
haunt the crew lounge from time to time. I was so relieved to hear that
a proper intelligence operator had been assigned to Charon that I
thought I should compose a status report for you."
The hologram plucked a PADD from the air - the nearby replicator hummed
compliantly as she did so. "It's a little complicated, and I'm afraid I
have to limit myself to third-party reports. I've only been in operation
on Charon for a short time myself."
Oberic politely took the PADD, remarking to himself how he'd love the
ability to sit anywhere, chair or not. He started to review the massive
amount of information Savant had compiled. If this was what she got
from third-parties, imagine what she would do as an actual intel
operative. He knew that she served with an observation team...but he
believed that the talents and capabilities of such an individual were
being woefully underused as a mere Ops Chief. Perhaps...well - there
would be time to consider how to best utilize Savant later. For now, he
seemed to have a willing partner who was more than able to handle the
work of a dozen of the best operatives. "This looks...pretty concise
considering the method you used to obtain it. I appreciate the
initiative you took in compiling all this. I daresay you've saved me
quite a few days' worth of scrounging. We'll have to see about
corroborating some of this. I'll check with the Captain after I've
settled in, and see what we can arrange. Would you be agreeable to
assisting me in my duties here? Of course, taking into account your
primary responsibilities to the ship, of course."
"Oh, of course, Sir," she seemed honestly interested in helping - it was
what she was written for. "I've been compiling that data since my
assignment here - even though I've been assigned as Operations Manager,
data analysis is what I am best at. I'll happily go through the report
in detail or in overview when you've settled in."
"Hopefully no one has been giving you a difficult time of things?"
Savant gestured briefly, as if the small gesture encapsulated the entire
crew, "I know that intelligence operators can sometimes feel isolated.
It's an unfortunate fact of biopsychology."
He smiled at her, his mind reeling with all the possibilities. "All too
true. I have yet to meet anyone aside from yourself and the young man
in the transporter room. But it has been my experience that Intel
Officers tend to be somewhat shunned by the crew of a vessel. Everyone
seems on edge and worried that I am going to sneak into their room at
night, put a black sack over their head, and take them away to some
hellhole in order to be interrogated to within an inch of their life."
He sat back, and rubbed his brow before finishing his thought, "But
that's all right. I've spent several hundred years of my life
interacting with all manner of sentient beings. I feel it will be a
nice break to spend forty or fifty years doing this...sort of, be on my
own for a while, as it were."
The hologram nodded sympathetically. "Charon seems to be the ship for
that. Not that her crew is xenophobic, not at all. The deep space
missions and the ... unique ... mix of species aboard make for certain
cliques. I've included a topic on the fact in your briefing. It has made
my behavioural modeling much easier, if a little rough around the edges."
Savant seemed pleased. She always enjoyed the opportunity to talk with
someone of an El Aurian's lifespan for many reasons. Oberic seemed
representative of the enigmatic race - pragmatic, practical, and
emotionally stable. Fine characteristics for an Intel officer, and just
the sort of stabilizing influence that Charon needed. She was already
working his presence into her crew dynamics models. "I hope that you do
have some of your passion for science, still. Charon has an excellent
deep-spectrum sensing array, and I look forward to seeing some of the
universe through it. With luck our missions will continue to focus on
exploration, despite my projections."
Oberic re-examined the PADD, finding the information she was referring
to. "Ahh yes, Romulans. I was aware of this unique nature before
arriving. I was part of the United Earth forces during the Romulan War
from 2156 until 2160. Since then, I have made it a point to study them
intently. I spent quite some time on Vulcan, where information about
their distant cousins was somewhat impressive. I feel that this is why
I was chosen to serve here. Makes sense to me, anyway." After a brief
pause to breathe and soak in some more of the PADD's massive
information, he concluded, "And so far as sciences go; that is a passion
that will never die out. My people have always been more traditional
with our means of gathering information - but the inclusion of various
sciences has, in my opinion, greatly enhanced our little hobby as
lorekeepers."**
She nodded agreeably, cataloguing that her further reports should
include the general findings of the science department along with the
usual Intel regimen, "You've spent quite some time on Vulcan. I maintain
a fairly large number of registers there. It's a fascinating place. I
admit that I'm in love with the people there - they really are
fascinating, and far more welcoming than people give them credit."
The El-Aurian let out a soft chuckle. "It's all in how you look at it.
Vulcans are, by their very nature, very accepting. People who find it
difficult to feel welcome elsewhere, feel that they are more than
welcome on Vulcan. It is refreshing to be in a place where the populace
doesn't judge you, look down on you, or treat you with impunity. There
is a lot to be said about the noble Vulcan race." He got up, and walked
over to the replicator - hoping against hope it could make what he was
about to request. "Jumja tea, mild sweet, 26 degrees celsius." He was
pleased when the cup materialized, and somewhat less pleased when he
tasted it. Making a slightly sour face, he carried his beverage over to
the chair, and sat back down. "I should have bought jumja when I was on
Bajor last. This is...barely passable. It's liquid and warm...that's
about all I can say for it. Anyway, I have to say that I am very happy
to have this chance to work with you. I realize this may be an odd
question - but do you have emotional states; I mean - can you have
friends - people you actually care about as more than just a resource?
I apologize if the question offends you. Merely curious."
Savant wasn't phased by the question - it certainly wasn't an unusual
one for her. "I have always found that a difficult question to answer. I
like to think that I have emotional states. The core of my program is a
series of registers which could easily be related to them. I act
irrationally on occasion, and I have been called impulsive in the past.
It's something I've been able to control, though." She shrugged affably.
"And don't worry about embarrassing me, you can't. I haven't got the
ability to feel *that* emotion, apparently."
Smiling, Oberic replied, "I would count that as a blessing. I hope
that, with time, you can count me as a friend. I cannot imagine
anything more envy-inducing back home than to tell them I am pals with
the most unique life-form in the galaxy. Now - I will review this more
in-depth, and get back to you after I talk to the Captain. In the
meantime, anything you wish to add to these reports is more than
welcome. If you require a higher security clearance, let me know and I
can get your clearance raised once I've been added to the crew." He
rose and reached out his hand hoping that she would catch on the gesture.
And she was clever enough to recognize a handshake. She stood and shook
his hand politely - a firm grip, but the touch induced the slight
sensation of numb pins-and-needles across his skin. She didn't seem to
notice the fact, "I'm sure we'll get along very well, Sir. You'll find
the Captain in her ready room, though I would wait at least a half hour.
She's normally a little grumpy this time of morning."
The tingle he felt was actually invigorating. His mind very briefly
started to wander about other things that would tingle. He quickly
brought himself back to reality, thankful that Savant wasn't
telepathic. "Once again, you have provided me valuable information.
Thank you, I will be sure to give her some time before dropping in.
Please keep in touch." He walked her to the door and nodded his
goodbye, watching her shimmer into nothingness as she exited the room.
Chief Warrant Officer Oberic Sierra
Intelligence Operator, USS Charon
and
Savant
