There was always something to be done in Engineering. Routine maintenance, occasional repairs, necessary upgrades... Not that Timothy Rex complained; he loved his job as chief engineer. Only sometimes he thought that a ship of this size, with only 64 crew - 9 of them engineers - was stretching it. He could, of course, at any time, summon up to 20 holo engineers. It was just that, for some reason, Lieutenant Rex preferred to work with living people. Or androids...

“Glad you could make it, Commander.” He turned from his console to greet the computer officer.
“My pleasure,” Pierre beamed at him. “What can I help you with?”
“We’re recalibrating these coils,” Tim waved his hand in the general direction of a mess of conduits, wires and spare parts lying about. Pierre looked around.
“Are you going to redesign the entire room today?” he joked, realizing that he’d have to remove almost an entire wall. “I can’t say I blame you. This place could do with some redecorating after six years...”

Tim laughed quietly and directed his attention back to the console. Everything needed to be done fast. The shield generators weren’t working properly, the plasma flow indicators needed adjustments, the captain... a loud thud interrupted his thoughts. Tim turned around to see one of the panels lying on the floor... right next to Pierre. The engineer jumped up to him in an instant. He grabbed his arm, feeling for the access port to his controls but he couldn’t find it. Instead, to his shock, he felt a weak, irregular pulse in the android’s wrist. Acting on instinct, without taking the time to think, he tapped at his comm badge: “Emergency medical transport!”

* * *

“How do you feel, Commander?” The words rang through his head for a while before he managed to put some sense into them.
*How do I feel?* he thought, trying to access his self diagnostic program. He couldn’t. *That’s bad,* he thought. He intended to open his eyes and reply, but before he could muster enough strength, a sudden wave of strange sensations overwhelmed him. Finally, he managed to lift his eyelids just a little but he promptly closed them again as the amount of light was almost unbearable.
“Can you hear me, Sir?” the voice nagged. Pierre swallowed, feeling some liquid go down his throat and winced at the weird sensation of contractions following down through his body. He fought to open his eyes again.
“I... feel!” he managed, with an effort.
“Good to have you back,” he heard in reply.
Grimacing terribly, he opened his eyes a little. He saw Doctor Darek’s face. *Sickbay?* He thought, surprised.
“Why... am I... here?”
“I wish I knew,” the Vulcan replied quizzically, closing his medical tricorder with a loud click. “All I can tell you, Commander, is that your body now consists of 95.46 per cent organic tissue. You are a human being.”
“Human?” After a while his eyes got partially used to the light and Pierre was now able to see more clearly. However, the view was still somehow different, distorted... he couldn’t exactly tell. “How is that possible?” he asked, ignoring his sight for now.
“I’m afraid we have no idea, Commander,” Darek admitted. "All we know is that most of your artificial organs have been somehow removed and replaced with carefully bred human cells. The DNA is yours.”
“Human?” Pierre repeated, still confused.
“Yes,” the Vulcan confirmed patiently. “How do you feel?”
Pierre concentrated on this simple question, leaving the bigger problems aside for the moment.
“I feel... pain,” he said after a while.
“Pain?” Darek took out his tricorder and scanned Pierre again. “Where?”
“I... I don’t know. My eyes hurt. And my... lungs when I’m breathing. And my...” It was strange to be pointing out various body organs he knew he had never had. “And my chest, too...” He finished, almost out of breath. It was also a weird sensation to actually depend on taking in air this way.
“Ah!” Darek nodded, unperplexed. “These are probably just normal sensations of an organic body. They should subside in a day or two when you get used to it.”
“Get used to...” Pierre repeated. This short conversation wore him out for some reason. He wasn’t sure if this feeling was indeed, tiredness. As the doctor pointed out, he had no idea what it felt like to be organic. All he knew was that he wished to be left alone. Fortunately, Darek noticed his patient’s weakened condition because he said:
“You’re generally healthy. You’re only exhausted, starved and dehydrated. Get some sleep now, we will talk about it when you’re stronger.”
Pierre wanted to ask what he needed to do to “get sleep” but it was too late. His eyes closed and he drifted away, without realizing it.

* * *

“Could someone possibly explain to me what the hell just happened? Or, better yet, how this is even possible?!”

The ship was drifting in space with all engines stopped. It was the first thing Captain Anthony ordered upon hearing the news. The absence of the humming sounds of warp and transwarp made everyone even more uneasy. These people were so used to them, they never noticed anymore. They got up to them and fell asleep with them for years. Now, the silence added to the eerie feeling of alienation.

The officers gathered around the small table in the conference room were all dumbfounded. The news was so inconceivable, even these seasoned space travelers had a hard time believing their own senses. A computer, an android, miraculously transformed into a human being, virtually overnight – it seemed so... ridiculous, they had no idea where to even begin.

“I assume it wasn’t a natural evolution process?” the captain added sarcastically after a moment of silence.
“No, Sir,” Doctor Darek finally ventured. “This would not be possible.”
“So?”
The Vulcan raised his eyebrow at Anthony. “I believe it must have been alien interference.”
“Do you think he was cloned?”
“Highly unlikely, Sir. I haven’t found any traces of DNA degradation. More probably, his artificial parts were removed one by one and replaced with carefully grown and stimulated human cells.”
“Are we even sure it’s Pierre?” the first officer pointed out skeptically. “How do we know it’s not an impostor? A clone, a hologram or, forgive me Counselor, some alien shape shifter?”
“I studied his DNA in great detail,” the doctor opposed calmly. “This is Pierre, there is no doubt about it. Professor Lafayette's method of flagging the cloned cells cannot really be copied. You see, each nucleus..." he stopped under Captain Anthony's glare. This was not a good time for detailed scientific lectures.
“But how could such a thing be done without someone noticing? When did it happen?” Tanaki asked incredulously.
“Four days ago,” Doctor Darek replied with certainty.
“From what I managed to investigate, some very advanced technology had been used here,” explained the chief science officer, Liana Rex. “It’s possible that whoever did this, has the ability to alter time or our perceptions.”
“Perceptions?”
“Well, to put it bluntly, we may have had our memories wiped out.”
“How is he now, Doctor?” the captain interrupted the speculations. He was clearly worried. This incident, whatever it was, not only seriously jeopardized the mission but also endangered one of his closest friends.
“He seems to be a strong and healthy individual, Sir,” Darek reassured him. "I managed to stabilize him and, apart from utmost exhaustion, there is nothing wrong with him.”
“Except that he’s supposed to be an android, that is,” Kowalsky added. “One more thing puzzles me here, Doctor,” he continued turning to face the Vulcan. “When exactly did you say it happened? And how come indeed that none of us ever noticed anything, Pierre included? I mean, he should have felt the difference at one point or another? And we would have seen he’s getting tired, wouldn’t we?”
“This is in fact the most confusing part of this.” Darek put away the padd he had been holding all the time and explained. “Judging from his condition, the process must have been completed four days ago. He had various sensory inhibitors installed along with a complicated net of microscopic holo-emitters throughout his body. Once I removed them, he certainly felt the difference.
“Someone went to great pains to fool us here. What I can’t fathom is why?” Lieutenant Tanaki shook her head.
“An experiment?”
“On what? Human stamina? There would have been better ways...”
“Alright, we have some ideas, let’s check them,” Anthony sighed. “Doctor, I assume this is irreversible? I mean, we cannot undo what’s been done here, we’d have to build a new android instead?”
“That’s right, Captain.”
“Then we need to find those who did it to him and seek some answers there. Tim, I want you to search through the ship’s systems for any traces of time alterations. Liana, study the technology, perhaps you’ll find some clues. Yoko, I want continuous, detailed scans for any cloaked ships, life signs, anything. We’re going back to where we started four days ago, which was still in the C-14 nebula, right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“One more thing,” Anthony stopped the officers who were already fussing about, eager to go back to work. “Will Pierre be able to operate the computer in his... hmm... current condition?”
“Yes, Captain, I think so,” the doctor confirmed. “He still has the main implant in his brain. I assume this is the device that let him stay in contact with the ship’s systems. It may be limited now, because I was forced to remove a lot of other implants and, of course, he won’t be able to be on duty 24 hours a day.”
“Obviously,” the captain nodded. “He will be working Alpha shift, then. Beta and Gamma will make do with LCARS until further notice. How long before he’s back up on his feet again?”
“I’d like to keep him in sickbay for at least two more days, Sir. He needs to rest.”
“Alright then. You have your orders, people.”

* * *

Before he opened is eyes, Pierre spent a few minutes simply feeling his new body. He wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to it. It wasn’t just about unusual sensations. It hurt. His heart, pumping blood that felt just a little too thick, his lungs struggling to take in cold, dry air... even his skin itched from the touch of the fabrics. He moved his arm and gasped.
“Are you alright?”
Pierre immediately forgot about the pain and opened his eyes to the familiar voice. “Sunshine!”
“Oh...” she put her hand to her mouth, surprised.
“What is it?”
“Your eyes...” she muttered.
“What about them?” Pierre didn’t understand.
“They’re blue...”
“Ah,” Pierre’s attempt at a laugh ended in coughing. “The doctor removed my contact lenses,” he explained when he could breathe again. “They’re supposed to be my natural color... I can ask him to put them back if it makes you uneasy...”
“No, that’s okay,” she dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “It’s just that you look so different. How do you feel?”
“I’ve been better.”
“You’ve been an android...”
Pierre smirked bitterly, “Believe me, Sunshine. I’m painfully aware of that.”
“Do you need anything?”
He swallowed and looked at her gratefully. She was so caring. “I...” he thought for a moment. Until now he had only known human physiology theoretically. It wasn’t easy to match his knowledge with what he was feeling now. Especially since his mind was a little hazy, too. “My throat is dry,” he tried, timidly.
“Oh, you’re thirsty!” Joanna nodded with a smile. She took a glass from the table. “Here.”
Pierre tried to lift his head but couldn’t, so she leaned over and helped him up, putting the glass to his lips. Pierre choked.
“Oh, no,” she said, letting him down again, before she wiped the blanket. “Don’t breath while you’re drinking. Come on, let’s try again.”
Pierre felt like a helpless baby and he hated feeling helpless. He promised himself to be more careful in the future.
It went better this time. “Thank you,” he panted when Joanna put the glass away. “I never knew water was so delicious...”
“I thought you’ve always had a sense of taste?”
“Oh, I did,” he nodded. “But it was different. Less receptive, I guess.”
“Well, you’ll have a lot to learn, then.”
“So it seems,” he agreed, reaching out to touch her. Joanna looked at him while he was groping in the air for a moment before he tapped her on the shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
“It seems my vision has changed, too,” he sighed, embarrassed. “The perspective is distorted.”
“Perhaps you should ask the doctor for these contact lenses after all?” she offered.
“No, I don’t think it would help,” Pierre replied, smiling at her. She hadn’t removed her arm and he could still touch her. “The lenses didn’t work separately. They were inter-connected with various other devices that had to be removed. They were dangerous to me.”
“Dangerous? I know Doctor Darek removed a lot of the technology from your body but how exactly were they dangerous?”
“Well, you see, part of what they were doing to me was dulling my senses. That’s why I never knew I was human and landed down here in the first place. According to the doctor, I was transformed four days earlier and yet I had never felt thirsty or tired. That’s why I staged this little drama in engineering,” he finished, blushing.
“Well, you did scare us,” Joanna admitted. “Can’t these lenses be separated from the rest of this stuff?”
“Possibly. But it’s going to take time to understand the technology. In the meantime, I’ll probably be able to adjust on my own.”

* * *

“Program complete. Enter when ready.”
Yoko stepped up to the doors and when they opened before her, she found herself... on the bridge.
“Captain!” A Starfleet lieutenant addressed her and gestured for somebody behind his back. Before Yoko could react, two security officers dragged a frightened man in a science uniform in front of her. “We caught this rebel hiding in your ready room,” the lieutenant reported.
“Let him go,” Yoko ordered instinctively. She realized she must have chosen someone else’s program and was about to cancel it but before she could open her mouth again, the turbolift door wheezed... and she was shot.
“Computer,” her voice echoed in the empty holodeck room. “What’s the name of the program?”
“Jerry 12,” the computer replied promptly.
Yoko blushed. She was glad nobody saw her now. She must have been so deep in her thoughts about the commander that she gave his name instead of hers while programming the holodeck. She looked around the holo emitter grid. The purple circles surrounding her in the otherwise dark chamber were tempting. She was about to order the computer to change the program to “Yoko 12”, her favorite forest, where she had intended to take a walk, but she hesitated. After all, with Pierre off duty, nobody would ever know...
“Computer, restart the program. Simulate the main protagonist and leave me a neutral observer.”
“Ready.”
“Run program.”
This time she found herself standing near the helm, when Captain Kowalsky entered the bridge.
“Captain, we caught this rebel hiding in your ready room!”
“Come here, you little bastard!” Jerry grabbed the man by the collar and pulled him closer just in time to shield himself from the shot from the turbolift. He drew his phaser and shot the attacker and his three companions in rapid succession. All of them, to Yoko’s disgust, were in Starfleet uniforms.
When the ambush was over, he dropped the unconscious science officer to the floor and straightened up, looking proudly over his bridge.
“That was amazing!”
“Excellent reflexes, Captain!” The crew congratulated him in awe. A blond beauty with the rank of lieutenant commander jumped up to him. “Are you alright?”
Captain Kowalsky slapped her on the butt. Another woman moved around the bodies spread on the floor and picked up their phasers.
“Set to kill,” she snorted, handing them to the brave captain.
Yoko decided she’d seen enough.

* * *

*Oh, Joanna, please... why don’t you talk to me?*
*Pierre…? What… what happened?* Joanna’s thoughts seemed unfocused, sleepy.
*Joanna! I’m so sorry! I was just thinking about you . I forgot I was still connected to the computer and...*
*What time is it?* he could sense her yawn.
*0300 hours…* Pierre realized with guilt.
*Oh, gosh! And why aren’t you sleeping?*
*I guess I’m still getting used to the idea of sleeping… Look, I’m really sorry…*
*All right,* she thought with resignation. *I won’t be able to fall asleep again now. Meet me in the mess hall in half an hour.*
*I’ll be there,* he replied gratefully.

Pierre was indeed having a hard time getting used to being organic. The unexpected limitations frustrated him. Dealing with all the incoming data in real time was an enormous task. The positronic implant left in his brain made it just barely possible. Before, he would make hundreds of decisions on the subconscious level. Now, with the implant, he had to be aware of each and every detail. It wasn’t even close to other humans working with the TCS. Serving as a computer interface, he used to filter all the information and only relay relevant data to the crew. Now, there was no one else to sort it out. The effort of coordinating hundreds of activities simultaneously exhausted him. Not to mention the irritating need to take breaks to eat, sleep and tend to all the physiological needs of his human body.

And the pain. It wasn’t getting any better, contrary to what the doctor had said. After over a week now, Pierre still cringed at every sound and shivered from cold most of the time. A warmer uniform didn’t help much, as it irritated his sensitive skin even more. Good night sleep was a rare treat for him. After finishing his shift, he was usually close to loosing consciousness, without even realizing it. He gritted his teeth and tried to live with it, like everybody told him to. When he managed to climb into his bed, he would lie there for hours on end, trying to forget about the headaches, chest pains and troubles with breathing. Even adjustments to the atmospheric controls in his quarters didn’t help much. When he finally managed to relax his muscles enough to fall asleep, it would often be time to get up again...

“Would you like some hot chocolate?”
He was so deep in thoughts, he hadn’t noticed Joanna enter the mess hall. She was wearing a blue nightgown, draped loosely around her shapely body. Her dark hair was pinned up carelessly just so it didn’t fall into her eyes. Still radiant from her sleep, she looked like an innocent child.
“What?” he asked absentmindedly, adoring the view.
“When I can’t sleep it always helps me to relax.”
“Ah, yes, please.” He realized she was talking about some drink.

“You don’t look very well,” Joanna remarked, sitting at the table. She put a steaming cup in front of him, holding on to the other one.
“Contrary to you, Sunshine,” he said, peering into her eyes with a warm smile. She seemed to avoid his look.
“So, what is it you’re thinking about when you can’t sleep?” She asked, taking a careful sip of the chocolate.
“Many things...” Pierre sighed. He wanted to tell her how much he had missed her. Since the crisis, when his emotions went out of control, their relationship had been far from what he wanted it to be. The incident with Yoko didn’t help either, although Joanna finally let him explain everything and then called it childish. After all was said and done, he had to agree with her.

“I suppose I’m just confused...” he said, instead.
“Everyone would be in your place,” Joanna nodded sympathetically. Pierre took her hand and kissed its palm but Joanna withdrew it fast. “Don’t,” she said, looking away again.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head and took her cup again as if to evade his caress. “It’s just...”
“Look,” Pierre interrupted her impulsively. “I didn’t mean to wake you up in the middle of the night just to have this conversation but since we’re already here, we may as well have it now. I want us to be together again. I need you.”
“Pierre...” Joanna sighed. He was waiting for her to continue. “It’s not that simple.”
“It’s very simple,” he insisted. “You told me once that you were afraid of me because I was an android. Too strong, too different... but... How about now? It’s almost as if you had made a wish.” He was speaking quietly but his voice trembled with emotions. “Just look at me. I’m as weak as can be,” he finished even softer.

Joanna sat quietly for a while, pondering what he said. She knew it had to be difficult for him.
However, her own life here was getting crazy. All the work she had to put into her Academy courses, taking care of Chris, her duties in sickbay... and Pierre. From a reliable friend to an unpredictable, passion-driven maniac to a feeble human. All within just a few months. This was proving too much for her. She honestly wanted to help him through this. But he wanted more than she had to offer.

“It’s not that simple,” she repeated, still avoiding his blue eyes. For some reason they made her even more uncomfortable around him. “It’s not that I don’t care about you,” she continued after another pause. “You really scare the hell out of me. And it’s not about you being human or android. It’s about your… aggression. Your passion… I know it’s difficult for you now. You need time to get to know yourself. It’s like you’re learning to live all over again.”
“I can’t do it without you…” he leaned over the table, the forgotten cup getting cold in front of him.
“Yes you can. I know you can.”
“If only you would…”
“Pierre, you’re pushing me,” Joanna protested. “See? How can I even trust you? You promised not to insist and yet…”
“I love you,” he whispered intensely. There was such a plea in his eyes, it gave her a pause, despite all her doubts.

They sat like that for a while, their eyes locked. He was begging her in his thoughts. He needed her so much. Confused? Yes, he was confused. Lost in the maze of strange sensations coming from the body he hated. He needed her now more than ever. To be there for him. To tell him everything was going to be alright. To accept him the way he was, even though he had a hard time accepting himself. To confirm there was still something meaningful about him...
“I got to go.”
“Joanna...”
“I’m sorry,” she shook her head, getting up.
“Don’t leave me...” he whispered when the door closed after her.

* * *

Pierre opened his eyes but it made no difference. Pitch black emptiness surrounded him. He accessed his quick self-diagnostic program but everything seemed alright. Except that he was disconnected from the ship’s computer and he couldn’t reach it.
“Hello?”
Nothing. No, there was something. A presence.
“Who’s there?”
Silence. It was strange. Without the ship’s system, Pierre was no telepath. And yet he could feel someone nearby.
“Where am I?”
Still nothing. He could only sense someone. A group of someones, actually. It felt like they were surrounding him, pushing in to get closer.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
*Don’t worry, you are safe with us...* It was not a voice and no language Pierre could recognize. The words sounded directly in his mind.
*Where am I?* he repeated, trying to move around. He had no sense of his own body. His mind seemed normal enough but he couldn’t move or feel his body. *What have you done to me?*
There was a pause and then a stream of raw data flooded his brain. He needed time to sort it out but one thing was clear from the start. He was far away from the Explorer and he was not supposed to ever go back there...

* * *

Counselor Aleyah Purr was having second thoughts. She had always imagined her life among the solids as that of an outsider. She was there to observe, to help them see their own lives from a perspective. But to get involved? The position of a ship’s counselor was something Aleyah had worked for very hard. She was the first changeling in Starfleet and it hadn’t been easy. Now she felt like she was on the verge of losing it.

She liked Captain Anthony. She liked him a lot. Why wouldn’t she? He was handsome, mature and responsible. Granted, he had his problems, but who didn’t? The way he kept on struggling with his passionate nature to remain as cold-blooded as a Vulcan was touching, even if not very wise. And now he had finally decided to give in to his impulses and asked her out.

The holodeck door opened before Aleyah to reveal a lavish garden made up of beautifully composed plants and trees, all decorated with lights. Various paths and small ponds created a delightful maze. The lights reflected in miniature ponds and fountains scattered around. In the heart of the garden there was a clearing where an elegant table stood. Captain Mark Anthony sat there, waiting.

The moment Aleyah stepped into the garden, soft music started playing. The lights glistened around her as she slowly walked on. Mark got up to greet her. He looked gorgeous in a white suit, that contrasted with his dark skin and black hair. He bowed when she approached him and kissed her hand. “Would you like to dance?”
Aleyah couldn’t say a word, so she only nodded. Mark turned her around and led her towards a small platform, just a dancing floor for two. “You look so beautiful,” he whispered, taking her into his arms and swaying gently to the rhythm.

Aleyah was no expert on human culture but she recognized a tango. The most passionate and elegant of ancient Earth dances. She thought it was a perfect choice for such a magical evening but she soon lost track of her thoughts and simply gave in to the music and Mark’s strong body.

* * *

The feeling was absolutely intoxicating. He had power beyond belief. He could squeeze entire worlds in his bare hands. With nothing but a blink of an eye, he could turn entire civilizations against one another and wage wars that would shake the entire galaxy. Or, on the contrary: with a single thought he could avert the chain of events that were leading to a conflict. This computer was far more powerful than anything Pierre could ever imagine.

He realized this was only a virtual projection but the connections he had managed to explore, albeit not break, could easily be switched to manipulate the events in the real world. For some reason the Claxians wanted him to practice first. Lack of trust? He doubted it. There was nothing he could do to harm them nor, unfortunately, to free himself and escape. As to the fate of the galaxy, the robots seemed perfectly oblivious about it. Suddenly, it dawned on him. They didn’t need him to practice his power. They needed to study his positronic network. They could have extracted every piece of information from his logs, but Starfleet engineers had done a great job on his safety protocols. The Claxians needed him to engage in the simulation to record his mental pathways and then use them to destroy his firewall. Only this way could they change the very core of his program so that it suited their purposes. They wanted him to be a leader of their society.

The Claxians were a robotic people, an entirely artificial civilization. They were powerful telepaths but only existed as a group. They needed an individual with free will to complete their purpose. To connect to the central computer they created, and seize the mental power over every sentient being in the galaxy first, and then, possibly, the entire universe. The only way to fight them right now was for him to remain absolutely passive through all this.

The scenery changed. Since he could remain indifferent to the general scope of things, the Claxians apparently decided to try his will on an individual’s fate. Pierre saw a small child, a boy, two, maybe three years old by human standards. It was a cloudy afternoon on a planet with apparently harsh climate. The child was playing alone in the middle of a barren field. Happily digging in the dirt with his small shovel, he ignored his mother’s calls. Suddenly, with a sickening certainty, Pierre realized what was going to happen. A violent storm was building up. The boy’s mother was calling him home, to safety, but she couldn’t find him. The terrain was far from flat and even though she was close, she was walking in circles closing in and moving away from him.

It would be so easy. It only required one thought to direct the desperate mother to find the boy. Or make him laugh a little louder for her to hear him. Every nerve in Pierre’s mind screamed for action. Even though he couldn’t feel his body, the pain was there. He forced himself to remain passive and watched with horror as the bolt struck the boy in the chest just as his mother saw him. Her scream was deafening...

* * *

“It’s all so beautiful,” Aleyah thanked her dance partner when they sat down. Mark poured some red wine into her glass and she drank it greedily. He smiled and poured some more.
“You may be interested to know that it’s not synthehol,” he warned her, laughing softly.
“I’m a changeling,” she reminded him. “I don’t really absorb these drinks, anyway.”
Mark sighed with faked disappointment and they both laughed.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
“Thank you for inviting me,” she tilted her head and inspected him carefully.
Mark nodded as if he was reading her mind: “It wasn’t that easy...”
“I know,” she smiled encouragingly and raised her glass. “To our hidden passions,” she said. It could have been the light, but for a moment she thought he actually blushed. It was sweet.
* * *

*Why?* They couldn’t understand. *You consider it an axiom about absolute power and absolute corruption. Why isn’t it working?*
Still shaken after the experience with the little boy, Pierre took a moment before he responded: *I was programmed that way.*
*Why?*
*With absolute power there needs to be absolute responsibility.*
*You are responsible for the death of this child.*
*It wasn’t real.*
*It was real to you.*
*Yes.*
*You could have saved him.*
*But I wasn’t able to predict all the consequences of my actions. What if he grew up to become a cruel leader and order the destruction of thousands of innocent people? Or a scientist who would invent a deadly weapon?*
*Or a saint who would have led his people to live a better life,* they offered.
*It’s possible,* Pierre agreed. *But there is no way to know for sure, so it’s better not to interfere at all.*
*Interfere with what? Blind fate? You can have the power over it, you can change it all you want...*
*And continue to change it indefinitely, following up on my own actions, making sure they turn out the way I intended? And end up shaping and molding the whole universe eternally to fit my whims? Who am I to assume such right? Who are you?*

* * *

Aleyah and Mark lost track of time. They danced and dined and talked and danced again, infatuated with each other like a pair of teenagers. Mark decided the last five years of his life had been a terrible waste. He could have been with her for a long time already. Now, however, when he finally found it in himself to admit he was in love, he didn’t want to rush anything. This first date was supposed to be perfect. And it was.
“What a wonderful world this would be...” they listened to the words of a song they were dancing to. Aleyah thought it was nice, though the voice singing was somewhat distorted.
“It is a wonderful world,” she whispered into his ear. For some reason, her doubts about getting involved had all but vanished now. Mark drew her closer and raised her face gently. Their eyes met for a long moment. His lips were teasingly close to hers. They stopped moving altogether. She felt trapped in his lovely, brown eyes. Slowly, painfully slowly, he leaned even closer. His lips touched hers...

“Red alert! All hands to battle stations!”

* * *

*No,* Pierre thought, terrified. *Don’t do it to me. Not this...*
The Claxians had done their homework. This time Pierre couldn’t even tell if that was just a simulation. He hoped so, with all his might, the moment he saw Joanna...
*Save her,* they told him and left.

Pierre desperately inspected his connection with the central computer time and again but to no avail. The paths had been scrambled. He couldn’t decide for sure if what he was seeing now wasn’t reality. He just didn’t know!

Joanna was curled up in an armchair in her quarters. It was a silent evening, she was concentrated on reading. Pierre knew she was studying for an exam. She was so lovely... her dark hair brushed to the side, her head cocked and her long, delicate fingers scrolling through the data on the padd she was holding.

*NO!!!* Everything screamed in him. There was a missile on its course towards the ship. Pierre didn’t even have to calculate it, the computer had laid it out for him, with merciless precision. The missile had exactly the right speed, direction and power to hit the saucer section of the Explorer, penetrate its shields and blow up an entire section. The section where Joanna’s quarters were...

*Don’t, oh god, please, don’t!* he pleaded in vain. The missile was on its way. Joanna, not suspecting anything, raised her hand to rub her eyes. Time seemed to slow down unbearably. Pierre scrambled in one last attempt to determine the nature of his connection. Nothing. What if they decided to connect him with the real world now to finally break his will? What if she was to die in order to convince him to join these fanatics?

*I love you,* the thought escaped him involuntarily. Nothing. Absolutely nothing in his entire life had prepared him for this. One impulse, one thought could save the woman he’d happily die for. The same thought would also render him defenseless at the hands of the robots, fixated on the idea of unlimited telepathic power. It wasn’t about him. Or her. It was about the entire universe. There was nothing he could do.

The passing seconds now felt like hours. Joanna put her hand back down on the padd and blinked. The missile was closing in. Thirty seconds. She sighed, focusing back on her studies. Twenty seconds. The bomb was ready to explode. Pierre was reaching the limits of his sanity. Ten seconds. She fidgeted, making herself more comfortable. Five seconds. The alarms went off ship wide: “Red alert! All hands to battle stations!” Too late...
Pierre didn’t see Joanna vaporize into thin air. Mercifully, his circuits overloaded, despite the backup from the central computer, and he lost consciousness.

* * *

“Commander, are you alright?” Lieutenant Torres came up to Pierre who was leaning heavily against the corridor wall. “Perhaps I should take you to sickbay?”
“That’s... that’s okay, Lieutenant” Pierre hoped his voice sounded stronger than he felt.
“Are you sure?” The young lieutenant wasn’t convinced.
“Yes, thank you. Carry on”
Pierre waited until the lieutenant disappeared around the corner. His knees still felt weak, but he breathed in and took a step forward.
“Pierre!” Yoko jumped up from behind and managed to catch him just before he slid to the floor. “Easy,” she said, wrapping her surprisingly strong arms around his waist. They stumbled as he involuntarily leaned on her with all his weight. Yoko managed to steady him and slowly led him to an armchair on the opposite side of the corridor. Pierre fell on it, breathing heavily.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” he wheezed. “I just... felt... a little... lightheaded. I’m fine, thanks,” he added.
Yoko touched his hand. It was cold. She inspected his face. He rested his head on the back of the chair, his eyes closed. He was pale and sweaty. Yoko went to the nearest replicator and came back with a glass of water. She had to help him because his hands were shaking.
“Feeling better?” she asked when he drank. Pierre nodded thankfully. Before he could say anything, his comm badge chirped:
“Kowalsky to Pierre,” it sounded. “I’m waiting for you, Commander.”
“On my way, Sir,” Pierre replied, out of breath. He made a move to get up but he fell back on the chair, with a quiet moan.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoko looked at him, worried.
“I...” he panted. “I’m supposed to bring him reports...”
“Bring them?” Yoko was surprised. “Why didn’t you just send them to his station?”
“Kowalsky wants them on padds...”
“Well then, where are they?”
“What?” Pierre was still unfocused.
“The reports,” Yoko explained patiently.
“I...” he instinctively glanced at his hands. “I forgot them,” he finished softly.
Yoko’s heart sank at such a display of helplessness. “Alright,” she tried to make her voice sound cheerful. “You rest here a while and I’ll bring them. Where are they?”
Pierre was feeling too weak to even be embarrassed at the moment. “My desk,” he whispered. “The pile on the left.”
“I’ll be back in a second,” she smiled and was gone.
He put his head back on the rest, relieved. It was getting harder with each passing day. He had tried to tell the doctor that he wasn’t feeling very well but the Vulcan was unable to find anything wrong with him. He associated Pierre’s symptoms with work overload and the only advice he had for him was to shorten his shift. That was something Pierre wasn’t willing to accept right now.
He saw Yoko coming back and mustered his will to look stronger. She wasn’t paying attention, though. She was shuffling the padds, confused.
“Course corrections, that’s helm,” she muttered to herself. “Transwarp coil maintenance – engineering. Sensor activity – tactical. Pierre,” she finally looked up at him. “These aren’t your reports?”
“They’re mine,” he protested. “I wrote them.”
“I know,” she shook her head. “I mean you’re not supposed to be writing them.”
“I am now,” Pierre reached his hand out for the padds but Yoko ignored it.
“Why?” she asked.
Pierre shrugged: “Kowalsky decided he needs to double check on me to make sure I can operate the ship.”
Yoko’s eyes went wide. “But this means hours of additional work!” she exclaimed, outraged.
“Yeah, a few,” he agreed reluctantly and tried to get up again. And again he turned pale and had to sit down again. “I need to go,” he complained.
“No, you won’t go anywhere,” Yoko decided. “I’ll get them to him. I guess I need a word with him anyway. Wait for me here, I’ll take you to your quarters when I’m done.”
“Don’t do it,” Pierre asked softly. “He’ll be furious...”
“I think I can handle him,” Yoko snorted and turned on her heel.

* * *

*Will you help us now?*
*Did you kill her?*
*We need you. Our collective consciousness cannot operate the computer. We’d only be dragging new minds into it, not controlling them. We need you as an interface. That’s what you’re meant to be, anyway.*
*Is she dead?* It was all Pierre could think about now.
*At least let us explore your positronic net so we can build our own interface modeled after you. Release your firewall to us, we won’t hurt you.*
*Is she dead?* he repeated like a mantra.
*No, your clone saved her,* the Claxians finally gave up. “He managed to detonate the bomb at the last possible moment. Will you help us now?*
*A clone?* Pierre had gained some knowledge of the Claxians when they provided him with basic data on his situation but this was the first time he heard about a clone.
*Yes,* they confirmed. *We cloned a human from your DNA to replace you on your ship.*
*A human?* Pierre was astonished. *Couldn’t you have built an android?*
*And let the organics exploit him like they exploited you?*

* * *

“Can you tell me now what’s going on?” Yoko asked Pierre when they were in his quarters half an hour later. He had managed to rest a little so she didn’t have to drag him all the way back but now he was exhausted again. She let him lie down, pulled a blanket over him and sat on the edge of his bed.
“Nothing,” he shrugged. “I’m just a little tired.”
“That’s what you said already,” Yoko didn’t seem satisfied. “Why don’t you talk to Darek?”
“I have,” he sighed, and told her all he heard from the doctor.
Yoko shook her head. “He may be wrong, you know,” she said gently. “You don’t look alright to me.”
“I’ll be fine,” Pierre assured her. He wanted to add something but he suddenly felt too sleepy. He smiled apologetically, his eyes closed and, before he knew it, he was fast asleep.
Yoko adjusted the blanket and just sat there for a while, watching him sleep. Finally, she got up slowly, and sneaked out of his quarters.

* * *
“You asked to see me, Captain?”
Anthony nodded at his first officer, cringing inwardly at the sight of his usual brisk manner. *A real model Starfleet officer,* he thought ironically but kept it to himself. “I was reviewing your crew evaluation reports,” he said, instead. “I see that you’re not particularly satisfied with Pierre’s performance?”
This conversation was something he had been putting off for too long. Alyeah pointed it out to him when they met to continue their date interrupted so brutally by the mysterious missile. Kowalsky’s attitude towards the computer officer could not be tolerated any longer, so it was best to get straight to the point and be done with it.
The first officer fidgeted a little, surprised that he had not been asked to sit down, but he quickly got over himself and snorted characteristically.
“Of course I’m not satisfied, Sir. He’s been even more lazy now that he’s human.”
“More lazy?” Anthony raised his eyebrow in a Vulcan manner.
“Well, he’d always had this arrogant attitude about him. Even when he was doing his job he gave the impression of just playing around. That was irritating.”
“I don’t see how irritating a senior officer can be grounds for a low evaluation, Commander.”
Kowalsky looked slightly abashed by that remark but again, quickly regained his composure. “What I mean is, he’s been negligent in his duties as an android and it’s only getting worse now. All I’ve been hearing from him recently are excuses and complaints that he’s tired or not feeling well. As if he was the only human on board.”
“He’d never been a human before, Commander,” Anthony said gently. “It’s only been two weeks, he may still be experiencing problems. We should be patient. And, have you forgotten he had saved us all? If it hadn’t been for him, we would have been hit hard by that torpedo,” he reminded the commander.
Kowalsky shrugged again. “That’s precisely the point, Captain,” he countered. “He should have detonated the bomb much earlier, had he been more attentive in his duties. It would have saved a lot of repairs.”
“As a human, he has slower reflexes,” the captain protested, already seeing this wasn’t going anywhere. Kowalsky was just too sure of himself. “The TCS interface was designed as an android for a reason, Commander. It’s not a job for a human being at all. I think he’s done a superb job, given the circumstances. I’m going to cite him for a special commendation.”
“As you wish, Sir.” At least Kowalsky knew when to back down.
Anthony sighed heavily and continued: “I’d really appreciate it if you gave him some breathing room, Jerry. I think he’s doing his best.”
“Is that why we’re still here in the nebula? Because we’re giving him breathing room? Because of his obsession with being a clone? Do you really think that’s possible, Captain?” No, he didn’t back down, after all, just regrouped. Anthony finally pointed him to the chair, feeling this conversation could be longer than he had wished.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, thoughtfully. “But if there’s a slightest chance he’s really somewhere out there, I’d hate to leave a crew member behind unless I am certain we’d done everything in our power to save him.”
“Forgive me, Captain, but this is insane. We’ve been going in circles for days now and we aren’t any closer to solving this mystery. I don’t think would be possible to detect his power signature. That is, if he even exists.”
“That’s what Pierre is working on. He believes that if he can track that missile, he may be able to narrow down the search area.”
“How is he even sure the missile has anything to do with any of this?”
“He isn’t. But I think we owe it to him to continue for a few more days.”
“Respectfully, Sir, I disagree. Frankly, I believe we’ve already been too lenient with him, android or otherwise.”
Anthony sometimes regretted his own policy of allowing his officers to always speak their minds freely in front of him. This was one of such times. The captain wanted to say something but Kowalsky continued.
“It all started with this emotion build up. We should have deactivated him then and notified Starfleet of his failure. But no, we allowed him to continue. Look what he’s done so far. He messed up with sensitive data, almost destroying the computer on the Reginald, beat up poor Piete... don’t you see a pattern here? He’s becoming more and more unpredictable and all because of that woman...”
That was enough. Anthony silenced him with a stern look. “He has the right to a personal life just like everybody else here, Commander.”
“Yes, Sir, but I don’t see everybody else messing their job with their private problems,” Kowalsky didn’t give up. Reluctantly, Anthony had to admit he had a point there.
“Well, he’s human now so emotional build ups shouldn’t be a problem anymore,” he sighed. “We need to give him some time to adjust and he’ll do just fine. In the meantime, please, don’t be too harsh on him.”

* * *

Pierre moved the panel away. Now, that he only had the implant to rely upon, he needed a monitor to work with the displays just like everybody else. Yet another inconvenience. He buried his face in his hands and let out a heavy sigh. He didn’t feel like getting up. All he wanted was to sit there, doing nothing and thinking nothing. He leaned heavily on the desk. At that moment, the door bell chimed.
“Enter,” he whispered without lifting his head. He wished whoever it was would go away soon and let him rest. Rest was all he needed now.
“Pierre!” He heard the familiar voice. “What is wrong?!”

He raised his head to look at Joanna. After their last meeting in the mess hall he had almost lost hope that he would see her again. Now she was here, in his quarters. Despite his fatigue, he was so happy to see her.
“Nothing’s wrong, I… I’m just a little tired. Can I get you anything?” He made an effort to get up from the chair but he suddenly felt the floor sway under his feet and stumbled. If not for Joanna, who reached out and helped him, he would have fallen. “Whoa!” He muttered, trying to regain his balance.
“Come, sit down,” Joanna ushered him to the sofa. He almost fell on it, a second before his legs gave out.
“I was worried about you,” she said quietly. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Frankly, I’m a little worried myself,” he admitted breathlessly, rubbing his forehead as if that could wipe away the nauseating feeling that had just overwhelmed him. “I’m beginning to make mistakes.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Joanna watched him carefully. “You served beer with my breakfast this morning.”
“I did?” Pierre closed his eyes concentrating for a moment. “I guess I did,” he nodded. “Sorry, Sunshine…” He wanted to say something else but couldn't. He suddenly turned very pale and looked like he was about to faint.
“Pierre!” Joanna’s voice snapped him back enough to look at her but his eyes were unfocused.
“That… that’s all right…”
“What did you just do?”
“What I… ah, yes,” he understood. “I connected to the network to see about that beer, why?”
“Does it cause you any pain?”
“No, it’s…”
“What?”
“I’m having trouble concentrating,” he confessed. “I get tired quickly and I make mistakes. I think I need more rest.”
“Rest? It’s not about rest anymore. Something’s very wrong with you!” Joanna sounded really concerned now. She hadn’t seen him like this since this whole thing started almost three weeks ago. “Let me take you to sickbay!”
“Sickbay?” Pierre wanted to avoid that. “I just finished my shift so I may be a little tired. I need some rest, that’s all…” He was trying to make it sound light but Joanna was terrified. He looked so weak and worn out, his eyes circled with shadows, his lips dry and pale as if there was no drop of blood left in them - a wreck of the man he used to be.
“Pierre,” she pleaded. “You look awful. You are ill. Let me help you, please.”
Pierre stared at her for a while. He didn’t feel very well but he thought it was because he wasn’t used to being tired. At least that’s what they all told him. Maybe except for Yoko. Now Joanna was sitting there beside him and she looked really worried, too. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps something was wrong with him after all. He shook his head trying to stay focused but it was getting more and more difficult. His thoughts were becoming erratic.
“All right,” he made an effort to stay coherent. “Maybe right. Let’s go to sickbay.”
He rose from the sofa but almost immediately slid down to the floor, feeling weaker than before.
“Looks like I won’t make it,” he whispered apologetically to Joanna who was already at his side, trying to help him up. “It’s worse than I thought…”
“Emergency medical transport!” He heard her say and instantly they found themselves in the middle of the sickbay. Despite his vision becoming more blurry with every second, Pierre managed to make out Darek approaching them with a tricorder.
“What happened?” The doctor wasted no time, already scanning his patient.
“Would have been nice if you helped me up first, Doc,” Pierre tried to smile at the Vulcan.
“Okay, easy now.” With the doctor’s strength it only took a moment to lift Pierre and place him on the biobed but this moment was enough for him to feel the world go spinning round again.
“Lie still,” he heard the doctor’s voice from a distance.
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear,” he breathed before he lost consciousness.

* * *
“How do you feel, Commander?”
The world was spinning again. Pierre tried to steady himself before he could open his eyes. He hated these words.
“What... what happened?” he whispered.
“You almost died on us,” Darek said. “If you had been alone that night, we would have probably found you dead the next morning. You had a stroke.”
“Stroke...?” Pierre forced himself to open his eyes. In the hazy light of the sickbay, he could hardly see Darek's face. Or was it his eyes?
“If it wasn’t for Ms Kruk...”
“She saved me?”
“That’s right."
Something in the way the doctor phrased these sentences made Pierre think.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
“Three days. We were working hard to bring you back.”
“Oh,” Pierre closed his eyes again. He wished the doctor would leave him alone. He wished that everybody would leave him alone. *Stroke,* he thought. *What's going to give up next, my lungs? My heart? I am a real zombie,* he ironized. *How pathetic.*
“I have some good news for you, too,” Darek interrupted his gruesome thoughts. Pierre obediently looked at him, though he doubted anything could be good news for him at this point.
“We have found Pierre.” The Vulcan made an effort to make it sound... cheerful?
“You have?!” Pierre choked and the pain grew stronger again.
“Take it easy, Commander,” Darek's bedside manners seemed to have improved lately. “Breathe in slowly... that's it.” He eased him down on the pillow
“He's back?” Pierre panted when he could speak again.
“In fact he's right outside, waiting to see you. If you feel up to it?” the Vulcan added, looking unconvinced.
“Of course.” Pierre was quite animated now, despite his weakened condition. “Send him in!”

* * *

“Hello, Pierre,” he heard his own voice. He slowly lifted his eyelids to see the original version of himself. The better one.
“Hello, Pierre,” he repeated like an echo and an identical smile appeared on both their faces.
“You don't look too good,” the android remarked softly, perching on the edge of the biobed.
“That's because I don't feel too good,” Pierre was speaking slowly, with difficulty. “You, on the other hand, are as handsome as ever.”
Again, both men smiled with exactly the same, sad grimace.
“So, “Pierre stammered after a while. “I was right, I'm a clone?”
“Apparently,” the android nodded. “Mark told me you were the one who insisted on continuing the search for me?”
Pierre blinked his eyes, confirming.
“And they wouldn't have found me without all the sensor adjustments you made.”
Another blink in response. The android put his hand gently on Pierre's arm. The white eyes looked deeply into the blue ones for a long while. They could almost understand each other without words. No wonder, since they were essentially the same person.
“I see you've been briefed?” Pierre broke the silence. Now the android blinked.
“Already on duty?”
“As we speak.”
“Good.”
Silence again. The android was watching Pierre with real pain. So emaciated and pale, spread helplessly on the biobed, this human looked like a pale shadow of himself. He had been warned but nothing really prepared him for this. Pierre's face was worn out, looking at least a decade older than his own. The shadows under his, blue eyes, the wrinkles around his dry lips attested to the enormous effort this man had undertaken to save him and fill in for him, serving this ship and the crew. Pierre looked as if even breathing was too difficult for him right now.
“What do you want to do now, that I'm back?” The android finally asked.
“Rest in peace.”
He smiled hearing that reply but this time he was the only one of them smiling.
“You sure could use some rest,” he agreed. “I can't even begin to imagine how you managed all this work. But I mean later, when you get better. Have you thought about a career for yourself yet?”
“No,” Pierre made an effort to move his head. “I mean, I want to rest... eternally.”
The android's white eyes opened wide but before he could say another word, Pierre started whispering frantically, as if afraid he may run out of time.
“Listen, there is something I need you to do for me. I'm too tired to explain everything right now. Please, link to my mind. I want you to download all my memories.”
“But...”
“Just do it,” Pierre insisted.
“Alright,” the android nodded reluctantly. He thought it would be an invasion of privacy, not to mention he’d had enough of telepathic contacts for a while, but his human twin considered it important for some reason. It was the least he could do for him now. “Try to focus.”
Pierre smiled faintly. “I know the drill.” He sighed heavily and their eyes locked together for a long while.
The android's face grew stern as the transfer progressed. Eventually, he broke the connection and looked at his human twin, horrified.
“Oh my god, Pierre! I had no idea...”
“Nobody really did...”
“But, why didn't you tell them?!”
Pierre rolled his eyes, exhausted. “You have all the answers now...”
“Yes,” the android replied, concentrating. It took him a few moments to browse through all this fresh data. It wasn't easy since the input was so different from anything he was used to. Not technical or scientific data, nor ship's operations. This was so much different. So rich and so terrifying... to actually see like a human... and more...
Instantly, he searched for the information he had wanted to ask from the moment he saw Pierre. Somehow, asking about it openly seemed too... invasive at the moment. Now, however, he could sieve through all of Pierre's memories to find those that interested him the most. He found them. Involuntarily, he looked at Pierre who had been watching him for a while now.
“She's all right,” Pierre knew precisely what question there was in those shiny white eyes. “She wasn’t even bruised, just scared a little. Will you do it?” Pierre's feeble whisper interrupted his thoughts. He needed another second to realize what Pierre was talking about. What he wanted... no, demanded of him.
“Pierre!” he exclaimed but calmed down quickly, seeing the crippled human wince at the sound of his voice.
“What you're asking...” he started again, quieter, but Pierre didn't let him finish.
“I know what I'm asking. Will you do it for me?”
“I... I can't...” The android panicked. He understood sacrifice and compassion. He knew this barely alive human, lying there, was the closest thing he could ever have to a family. He owed him his life and Joanna owed him hers. He could understand him like no one else in the whole universe, not another human, not even another TCS. But this... Pierre didn't give him much time to think.
“Listen,” he wheezed. “You're the only one who can help me. You know why... only you can understand what I've been through...”
The android shuddered, recalling Pierre's memories once again.
Pierre fell down on his pillow, spent. He was struggling for breath now, the pain was growing stronger again. The android touched his arm.
“Pierre, I couldn't...”
The human opened his eyes and made an effort to focus. There was so much pain in his glance, the android had to look away.
“There are inhibitors...” he began but Pierre snorted.
“There are... no... inhibitors that would not leave me a... vegetable,” he managed with an enormous effort. This conversation was becoming too much for him.
“You need to rest now,” the android remarked, trying to buy some time. “You should think about it...”
“No!” Pierre strained to lift his arm. When he managed, he took the android's warm, smooth hand. “Feel it,” he begged. "You can feel what I feel. Don't make me suffer like this... not any more...”
They looked into each other's eyes once again. The android knew that such a deep telepathic contact could be devastating for a human in his condition but it seemed like the best option for Pierre right now. He was so desperate to communicate, he deserved that chance.
The two men sat there minute after minute. Sweat, trickling down Pierre's forehead, was the only sign that he was still alive. In those few minutes, not only memories but emotions and sensations were shared. The tortured human brain really became a part of the telepathic computer. The two individuals truly merged into one now. Finally, the android turned away with a look of pain on his own face, mirroring Pierre's expression. He knew what had to be done. He understood it. The overwhelming sorrow that it had to end like this, right there and now, needed to be brushed aside.
He stood up, slowly and stiffly, like a robot. He came up to the med table, opened one of the boxes and took out a hypo-spray. He stood there, weighing it in his hand. His eyes wandered beyond the walls of the sickbay. Pierre was lying motionless on the biobed behind him. His hoarse, irregular breathing was the only sound in the room.
The android turned around and came back to the bed. He stooped with the hypo-spray in his hand. Pierre, feeling his presence, slowly opened his eyes.
“Take care... of her. She... loves you,” were his last words. The android put the hypo-spray to his neck and gently pressed the trigger.
It seemed as if nothing happened. Pierre closed his eyes, his body relaxed and stopped moving but the instruments were still working normally, showing blood pressure, heartbeat, body temperature...
The android straightened up. He looked at the lifeless body in front of him for a long while. It was like looking at himself. Finally, he released his control of the sickbay instruments.
Instantly, the alarms went off and Doctor Darek rushed into the room. He darted to the biobed but the sight of the hypo-spray in the android's hand stopped him in his tracks. It took him a split second to realize what had just happened. A quick glance at the monitors, confirmed that he was right.
“Commander, release control of the ship, now!” His voice sounded colder than usual, if that was even possible for a Vulcan. Only a few of the monitors were still under Pierre’s control because the doctor preferred not to come into contact with the telepathic computer. He was watching them now. The android didn't make a move but they flashed momentarily and reverted to the same LCARS layout, as the rest of the sickbay equipment.
“Security to sickbay,” Darek touched his comm badge. The android just stood there, with the hypo-spray in his hand, until the guards arrived.
“Take him to the brig,” the Doctor ordered, taking the hypo-spray. The android gave it up indifferently and walked away with the guards as if nothing had happened. Only his eyes seemed to have lost their shine.