Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters.
Second meeting
Data climbed a rocky cliff just outside the colony boundary to see what he could see. On top of the cliff sat the strange creature he and Julianna had encountered the day before glancing over her right shoulder. “Are your shoes always so shiny?”
He looked down at his shoes, “yes.”
“You just climbed a mountain. They should at least be dusty.” She had a strange accent that made him shiver.
“You do not sound like anyone here.”
“Oh no,” she scolded, “the subject for discussion is your shiny shoes. That’s just unnatural.”
He sat down beside of her, “I am Data.”
“For the volumes of information you can process and store.” She cocked her head to one side and stared around him. Her voice was very monotone, “DaTa, factual information (as measurement or statistics) used as a basis for reasoning, discussion, or calculation. Information in numerical form that can be processed or transmitted digitally.” She straightened her head back up. He was unaware that she was imitating him. “I am Scheherezade.”
“I am unfamiliar with that name.”
“As the story goes, she had an unnatural ability to tell stories.”
“I am unnatural?” It seemed more of a question to her than a statement.
“Yes, the colony of androids.”
“I am the only one.”
She stared at him, “hmm umm.” She got up. Her light blue sundress gently blew with the breeze. The breeze picked up a strand of her red hair brushing it into her face. Something about her captivated him. She tossed him a collar. “Leave the animals alone. They are mine.”
He jerked, rolling over in his sleep. “Why now?” He moaned. “Why?” A wave of pain drug him back to sleep.
He was walking, walking through the field he had recreated on the holodeck. This time it felt different, more alive. That essential piece of the program that was missing before wasn’t missing now.
His head was spinning. The willow tree next to the pond looked inviting. The closer he got to the tree the more uncomfortable he became. He grabbed ahold of the tree with his eyes closed. He was having a hard time breathing. When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a pair of leather-stitched black sandals, next a pair of black pants. Then a frog belly button ring; topped with a black sports bra. Her chest was moving much too rapidly.
“Hey,” he lifted her head. “Sher?”
She was still struggling to breathe. “Sher?” Her face was hot. “Sher!” Data screamed. He woke himself up, surprised to find that he was covered in a cold sweat. “What is happening to me?” He asked. “I do not understand.”
He heard a soft sweet voice in the back of his mind, “DaTa.”
“No,” he cried. “No. I cannot endure this.” He tried to occupy himself with other things. He read the days duty roster. He paced back and forth in his quarters. Finally, he got a book. Maybe reading would keep his mind from wondering. “The Iliad,” was the book for the night. Two chapters into the poem his mind drifted again.
*
Guinan
Poetry & More 