Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Star Trek: The Next
Generation. This story/poem just explores the inner thoughts of one of the
characters. No infringement is intended.
Summery: So, what would Data think of now that he has emotions, and after all that has happened to him? Spoilers for Generations and First Contact movies. If you haven't seen either one, then be warned that I'll feature them heavily. Please review and send comments!
My Inner Life
As he sat and looked out into space, Lt. Cmdr. Data thought back to all that he had learned up until this point in his life. Spot sat in his lap, purring in contentment. Her peace contrasted deeply with his very tumultuous thoughts. Geordi and Deanna could not reach him in any way. Only Captain Picard seemed to know what was going on inside that android heart of his.
Data knew that soon he would have to start seeing the Counselor for therapy, but for now, he just wanted to be left alone to gather his emotions back together in a way he could deal with. He returned his attention to his personal log.
"Personal Log continued. I find myself not wanting the closeness of anyone right now. Spot I allow near, for she knows nothing of what happened to me. The skin the Borg Queen removed has been replaced, but the scars remain. I feel so used, and alone. I wonder why I decided to install the emotion chip, during the time on the Enterprise D. I wish it had not fused into my neural net. But, all that has happened, and there is no way to reverse it now. I have started to add poetry to my activities, and according to Geordi, my painting is reflecting the chaotic thoughts I have after all that has happened. I now see that my poetry is doing the same."
Data took that moment to look over his first poem. Geordi was very right; it was dark, and Data shuddered. If only his father were here to help him now. His mother had been trying to contact him, but he was not answering her communications. 'Not now,' he thought.
'I look towards the shore I see from afar;
It is too far for me to swim to.
I see the saucer section in pieces below me;
Why could I not stop this terror?
I feel Her breath on my face, arm, in my ear;
Dark desire races through me and She smiles.
No matter how I fight it now, I drown;
I am Hers to control and use.
No one knows the darkness I face, no one;
They all stay away from me in fear and confusion.
I draw away from them, it is true;
But why expose them to the filth I have on me from Her?
The Captain has said I have to let it go and try to heal;
I try, sir, I try as hard as I can!
But the darkness pulls me under again and again now;
I hate myself for what I have done!
Do they truly know what I feel, what I suffer;
They are ignorant of my real soul.
I have never felt this way and they cannot understand;
I am no longer the Data they knew.
Now I fight through the darkness of this Hell I live in;
Is there no end in sight?
First destruction, then willing acceptance of Her seduction;
No one knows my inner life.'
Data looked over the finished poem, and for a brief moment, he smiled. 'This will explain it to them,' he thought. 'They will understand this.' He signed his name to it, and copied it to the most recent painting he had finished. The painting was a dark expanse of space, but in the corners were the damaged saucer section of the Enterprise D, then a Borg cube, then the Borg Queen's face, surrounded by mist, and looking very beautiful-hauntingly beautiful. His own face was somewhere near the center of the painting, and in the last free corner of the painting, looking very much alone. In the center, in silver paint, the poem stood out in stark relief. Data smiled again, and stood the painting in the center of his room, so it could be easily seen. Then, not knowing where this idea came from, he left messages with both Geordi and Deanna to come to his quarters. The painting would be the first thing they would see.
"But I shall not be here," Data whispered to himself as he fed Spot. "I shall be in the Observation Lounge, where they can find me when they understand fully what I have gone though." With that, Data walked out of his quarters, knowing his friend and the Counselor would arrive shortly, and see the painting. Right now though, Data wanted to see the stars.
Summery: So, what would Data think of now that he has emotions, and after all that has happened to him? Spoilers for Generations and First Contact movies. If you haven't seen either one, then be warned that I'll feature them heavily. Please review and send comments!
My Inner Life
As he sat and looked out into space, Lt. Cmdr. Data thought back to all that he had learned up until this point in his life. Spot sat in his lap, purring in contentment. Her peace contrasted deeply with his very tumultuous thoughts. Geordi and Deanna could not reach him in any way. Only Captain Picard seemed to know what was going on inside that android heart of his.
Data knew that soon he would have to start seeing the Counselor for therapy, but for now, he just wanted to be left alone to gather his emotions back together in a way he could deal with. He returned his attention to his personal log.
"Personal Log continued. I find myself not wanting the closeness of anyone right now. Spot I allow near, for she knows nothing of what happened to me. The skin the Borg Queen removed has been replaced, but the scars remain. I feel so used, and alone. I wonder why I decided to install the emotion chip, during the time on the Enterprise D. I wish it had not fused into my neural net. But, all that has happened, and there is no way to reverse it now. I have started to add poetry to my activities, and according to Geordi, my painting is reflecting the chaotic thoughts I have after all that has happened. I now see that my poetry is doing the same."
Data took that moment to look over his first poem. Geordi was very right; it was dark, and Data shuddered. If only his father were here to help him now. His mother had been trying to contact him, but he was not answering her communications. 'Not now,' he thought.
'I look towards the shore I see from afar;
It is too far for me to swim to.
I see the saucer section in pieces below me;
Why could I not stop this terror?
I feel Her breath on my face, arm, in my ear;
Dark desire races through me and She smiles.
No matter how I fight it now, I drown;
I am Hers to control and use.
No one knows the darkness I face, no one;
They all stay away from me in fear and confusion.
I draw away from them, it is true;
But why expose them to the filth I have on me from Her?
The Captain has said I have to let it go and try to heal;
I try, sir, I try as hard as I can!
But the darkness pulls me under again and again now;
I hate myself for what I have done!
Do they truly know what I feel, what I suffer;
They are ignorant of my real soul.
I have never felt this way and they cannot understand;
I am no longer the Data they knew.
Now I fight through the darkness of this Hell I live in;
Is there no end in sight?
First destruction, then willing acceptance of Her seduction;
No one knows my inner life.'
Data looked over the finished poem, and for a brief moment, he smiled. 'This will explain it to them,' he thought. 'They will understand this.' He signed his name to it, and copied it to the most recent painting he had finished. The painting was a dark expanse of space, but in the corners were the damaged saucer section of the Enterprise D, then a Borg cube, then the Borg Queen's face, surrounded by mist, and looking very beautiful-hauntingly beautiful. His own face was somewhere near the center of the painting, and in the last free corner of the painting, looking very much alone. In the center, in silver paint, the poem stood out in stark relief. Data smiled again, and stood the painting in the center of his room, so it could be easily seen. Then, not knowing where this idea came from, he left messages with both Geordi and Deanna to come to his quarters. The painting would be the first thing they would see.
"But I shall not be here," Data whispered to himself as he fed Spot. "I shall be in the Observation Lounge, where they can find me when they understand fully what I have gone though." With that, Data walked out of his quarters, knowing his friend and the Counselor would arrive shortly, and see the painting. Right now though, Data wanted to see the stars.