So I received a message or two from Four of Six, a liberated Borg Romulan who... kind of doesn't really get the whole "liberated" thing.
It all started out innocently enough, with a typically warm and personal greeting:-
*/*drone status update---
routine tasks completed---
4/6 new status: on her hols---*/*
"On holiday where?" I queried, innocently.
*/*destination: Risa---
objectives follow---
---obtain local currency
---investigate facilities
---look hawt in bikini*/*
Well, that last one worried me, a bit. Four is... kind of bony-looking... and she hasn't had many of her Borg implants removed. So I followed up with another query....
*/*status update---
---hawtness confirmed
---strange man designated Pavyl has asked drone to meet him in secluded spot after nightfall
---drone estimates probability that this can go wrong at 0% */*
Uh-oh, I thought. "Four," I said, "are you sure about this? You haven't really readjusted to life outside the Collective, you know." And I got another reply.
*/*adjustment to individual lifestyle complete---
---drone will indicate this
---purchasing companion animal for emotional support
---specimen type: Risian Solarian Caracal
---specimen now designated Non-Sapient Companion Animal Zero One */*
"That's not a very good name for a pet," I told her. But I don't think the next reply was really aimed at me.
*/*disregard input from nasty person---
who is a good Non-Sapient Companion Animal---
--- you are
--- yes
--- you are */*
Unfortunately, this was shortly followed by another message.
*/*status update---
urgent correction---
---inspection of local deck plating indicates
---Non-Sapient Companion Animal Zero One is NOT a good Non-Sapient Companion Animal
---drone status: locating Marigolds
---locating Dettol
---oh god
---what has it been eating
---that cannot be right */*
So I've left matters there for now. I can only imagine things are going to get worse.
Comments
"Well," I said, "your interpersonal skills probably are a little... disused... right now, but I'm sure they're actually improving with practice."
I'm not sure I can quite picture Four as a surfer, but never mind. "In any case, looks aren't everything," I told her. "A winning personality will get you further than looks alone."
"No, no, no!" I told her. "That would definitely be, umm, going too far. For a first date. No. Definitely not."
So there we have to leave things. I don't know where she'll find a Risian beach cop to turn herself in to, but I'm sure she's looking. Four is nothing if not persistent.
"I think that's a joke, Four," I told her. "Besides, you don't need to worry about the party. Just because it's not officially authorized, that doesn't mean it's forbidden. Risians are very free and easy about things like that."
It didn't go down too well. I got an even more disgruntled reply.
Well, that alarmed me. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Four? I mean, when was the last time you had a drink?"
"That's not really what I meant," I told her.
"Four, this is really not such a good idea," I said.
"That's not true," I protested. "I mean, you've got friends... there's me, and there's, um, Non-Sapient Companion Animal Zero One -"
"Uh, Four," I said, "that's not an earthquake... you're not used to those Mai-Tais, that's the problem."
That was all I heard from her for several hours, except for an occasional */* (signal unintelligible) */*. I was pretty relieved, all things considered, to get a more coherent message the next morning.
"Four," I said firmly, "you don't need repairs. What you have is called a hangover."
I was baffled by this. "A hangover is, well, a condition... not an object," I said. "What object are you talking about, Four?"
So I suppose Four had, basically, a pretty good night. I still don't know where on Risa she got a traffic cone. I suspect it's best not to ask.
I didn't ever think one had to put some sort of value judgement on how much fun were inter-collective messaging, but this is hysterical.
Member Access Denied Armada!
My forum single-issue of rage: Make the Proton Experimental Weapon go for subsystem targetting!
Actually, it probably came from another universe. Champions...
Or perhaps this one, formerly located in front of Cryptic HQ. { capped from a Google Street View long ago }
Well, you can imagine that got my attention pretty quickly. I messaged her back at once. "Four, what's happening? Is anyone hurt?"
It all sounded very alarming. But there were no confirming reports on any Starfleet channels... now, Four isn't the sort of person to panic unnecessarily, but I'd expect an attack on Risa to raise all sorts of alarms. So I sent off another message asking her to confirm the situation, and got a reply.
I was getting increasingly puzzled by this point. A local tactical expert? On Risa? And the planet is surrounded, at this time of year, by ships from Starfleet, the KDF, the Republic - I'd have expected them to respond immediately to any attack. There'd have been all sorts of fireworks, I thought to myself -
And then I thought to myself, uh-oh.
"Four," I asked, "how did you become aware of these... heavy-metal chemical contaminants? And... what, exactly, is this tactical expert's specialty?"
Oh. Dear. I am now going to have to explain to Four of Six all about fireworks displays, and sandcastles. Something tells me I might need a few Risian Mai-Tais by the time I've finished.
"Um... well done, I think, Four," I replied. "So, what's your question?"
"I, um, I don't know who you'd have to talk to about that," I answered. "Anyway, well done, again. So, will you be coming back from Risa now?"
"Just the small ones?" I asked.
I think Four has got hold of the wrong end of the stick again. And somehow I don't feel like explaining that one to her... let her find out for herself.
"What's the problem, Four?" I asked.
"Oh, the floater event? I always thought that was fun," I said.
"Oh," I said. "Oh. Yes. Somebody's got some... umm... some arrangement... some contacts, somewhere...."
"Oh," I said, "I see. But I don't think - um. I don't think it's likely...."
"Don't worry, Four," I told her. "Seriously, don't worry. That'll never happen."
not due to the reading material i shouldve put my glasses on so the headache is my fault
If this throws Four of Six don't show the Lobi store.
Member Access Denied Armada!
My forum single-issue of rage: Make the Proton Experimental Weapon go for subsystem targetting!
Nonono, please do!
Edit: There appears to be a Borg drone somewhere around these parts, too. Look what he told me.
I simply told him to get a drink. Luckily, no alcohol was present.
Infinite possibilities have implications that could not be completely understood if you turned this entire universe into a giant supercomputer.
okay...translation? i could figure out what was going on with all of shevet's droneisms, but i can't figure this one out
#LegalizeAwoo
A normie goes "Oh, what's this?"
An otaku goes "UwU, what's this?"
A furry goes "OwO, what's this?"
A werewolf goes "Awoo, what's this?"
"It's nothing personal, I just don't feel like I've gotten to know a person until I've sniffed their crotch."
"We said 'no' to Mr. Curiosity. We're not home. Curiosity is not welcome, it is not to be invited in. Curiosity...is bad. It gets you in trouble, it gets you killed, and more importantly...it makes you poor!"
I read shevet's 'stories' (I'm not sure it's quite accurate here, but it's the closest label I can find) out loud to my younger siblings. (Also, a few other mini-stories - like the ones about exploration clusters - and storified bug reports due to browsing through his thread history.)
The result was that I had a sore throat, and like Four, I needed maintenance. (But unlike Four, "Three"'s efforts to get a drink were incapable of getting him/me drunk. ) So, I figured I'd take a stab at this Borg stuff.
Infinite possibilities have implications that could not be completely understood if you turned this entire universe into a giant supercomputer.
"Well, err... well done, Four," I said. "I think."
"It's just, um, a tradition," I told her. "Protecting the endangered species, it's just... something we do...."
"Well, try not to worry about it, Four," I said. "Anyway, you said you'd finished everything?"
"No, Four," I said, very firmly. "The Risians wouldn't let you do that. They're an ecologically sensitive, peaceful people."
Now, that baffled me. "What are you talking about, Four?"
"Four," I protested, "those are peaceful Risian technologies that Starfleet's adapted for military use - the graviton spike is used as an environmentally friendly alternative to explosives...."
"Oh, that can't be right, Four," I said. "There must be other uses besides -"
"Yes, yes," I said, "but the actual technology, the purpose behind it, must be -"
"All right, Four." I could see I was getting nowhere. "But the Risians would probably be happier if you didn't go on about it, OK?"
Well, yes, I have to admit, it sounds like Four of Six is ready for Risa next year. I only wonder if Risa is ready for her.
Member Access Denied Armada!
My forum single-issue of rage: Make the Proton Experimental Weapon go for subsystem targetting!
You'll get no argument from me.
Infinite possibilities have implications that could not be completely understood if you turned this entire universe into a giant supercomputer.
But perhaps she will be more confused by Q's Winter Wonderland so that we won't have to wait a year for more fun and confusion.
#LegalizeAwoo
A normie goes "Oh, what's this?"
An otaku goes "UwU, what's this?"
A furry goes "OwO, what's this?"
A werewolf goes "Awoo, what's this?"
"It's nothing personal, I just don't feel like I've gotten to know a person until I've sniffed their crotch."
"We said 'no' to Mr. Curiosity. We're not home. Curiosity is not welcome, it is not to be invited in. Curiosity...is bad. It gets you in trouble, it gets you killed, and more importantly...it makes you poor!"
YES! More explosi-- no wait that quote doesn't make sense here. *clears throat* I meant to say more shenanigans.
Infinite possibilities have implications that could not be completely understood if you turned this entire universe into a giant supercomputer.
In the meantime, here's a screenshot of Four on Risa, sunbathing, with her faithful Non-Sapient Companion Animal Zero One by her side.
(Yes, she is sunbathing at night. Someone else can try and explain to her; I've given up.)
Your father was captain of a starship for twelve minutes. He saved 800 lives, including your mother's, and yours.
I dare you to do better.
— Sabaton, "Great War"
Check out https://unitedfederationofpla.net/s/