I don't own Star Trek or Doctor Who.
Please remember the Borg do not exist in this continuity, its just the Cybermen.
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Genesis of the Cybermen.
Dr Allen panted as she moved the body into the conversion unit. It had been a long and tedious job finding a colonist she could use without making it obvious to the others when they woke up themselves at the end of their trip, but it had been even harder to go about getting him out of suspended animation since the cryo booths were immobile and they couldn't be brought down to where she'd set up shop.
Gently she leaned over the man and lifted up his eyelids. He was still unconscious thanks to the shot she'd given him to keep him asleep and drugged up when he'd come around when she'd tried to bring him down to the conversion laboratory she'd set up out of one of the ship's storage rooms without him actually waking up.
One minute she was busy concentrating on getting him out of his booth and the next minute he was screaming and thrashing around in the webbing of restraints built into the cryogenic units to keep him immobile while he was asleep, yelling insane questions before she'd recovered enough to give him the shot while she held him down with her cybernetic strength.
That was the easy part but bringing him down to the laboratory was difficult. But hopefully, when she was finished, she would have a willing helper to move the bodies down here.
Pushing that out of her mind, Allen checked the new restraints of the conversion unit. It was basically a steel silver frame with a surgical chair bolted in the middle with two clamps designed to lock the head and keep it still while smaller restraints held the body locked in. Above was a sphere which contained the saws and medical injector which were used to slice the brain out of the body.
Allen had worked out that the only way to get the brain out of the body was to do it speedily without any human or cybernetic surgeons doing the deed, so it needed to be done via automatic machines. It had taken Allen over four years to get the procedure right, she had spent those four years refining her design to make it both efficient and speedy.
Allen looked down at the unconscious face in front of her. The colonist looked so young, and she wondered for a second just how old he was before she dismissed that fact. In her madness, she believed she was doing him a favour. She was taking him away from the cradle of fleshy weakness and emotional hell and replacing them with superior and immortal machinery and logical order.
Part of her regretted what she was about to do, but it was for the greater good.
Her eyes flickered over to the other surgical table nearby where a large form was waiting, but her eyes didn't linger on the prone form and she stood up, wincing in pain as she did so; her cybernetic body was made from technology that was barely up to the task of keeping her alive though it did serve its purpose. The biggest problem, though, were the cybernetic components in her spine that allowed her to stand up, unfortunately, the technology was not exactly technically advanced since even the Vulcans had little knowledge of how to work with the nervous system. The surgeries she'd had to endure for the system had been long and incredibly difficult, and the recovery was so slow Allen was lucky she could even move to conduct her work.
Allen hated the fact those self-righteous pointy eared know-it-alls had hindered her research, but she had not let them bring her down since she was doing this for the greater good of her race.
Letting out a breath, Allen pushed the pain caused by the prosthetics away, mentally counting down the days where she could finally do away with this waste of a body and get her brain placed inside a new one, one where she would never have to worry about her illness ever again, and she walked over to the main switch. Placing her hand on the lever, her cybernetic arms grasping the cold metal of the lever though she couldn't feel it since the tips of the fingers, while sensitive, weren't calibrated to experience sensation.
Allen hesitated and she glanced at the large form again. It had taken her a while to reassemble the technology after coming out of stasis, but she had a good memory and the prototypes had worked perfectly before they'd been destroyed before she could really get going. But this time everything was different, and now she would succeed since she was away from Earth, free of all the people who had hunted her down, called her work unethical while they allowed science to be governed by the Vulcans who hadn't wanted humanity to grow for some reason, and just wanted her people to live continually in a scientific dark age.
Okay, so her work was obscene in some areas, but that was how scientific advancement was made, by making decisions that had broad and wide consequences. Ethics…. they were just a bunch of rules formed by fools without any proper guts.
Allen threw the switch. From the sphere above, a number of saws and blades extended on segmented arms and she watched even though she had to squint as the cutting cycle began before another arm dropped from the sphere while carrying a metallic object.
The colonists' brain was scooped up and the long arm which contained a large hypodermic needle containing a green liquid was injected into the object before it was carried over to the prone metallic form on the second bench. The saws were replaced with oddly shaped tools which locked the object onto it before the cycle was finished.
Allen watched every moment of the operation, feeling her heart race with joy as the process nearly finished and when it was over she watched with anticipation, hoping nothing had gone wrong; she had been afraid for her equipment and what she'd managed to smuggle onboard this ship, knowing she'd had to make do with what she'd managed to save when the depths of her work were discovered.
She took in a deep breath as she waited for the form lying only a few feet from her to revive. For a long moment, there was nothing and Allen was afraid the procedure had been too much, the brain had died.
But then it started to move slowly as though it had just woken up from a long sleep.
Allen's breath caught in her throat as she watched the creature stand up. Like the Vulcans and humans, it was humanoid in shape and form but anyone could see it wasn't human. It was a metal giant, coloured silver. It could be considered a robot, though it wasn't. Allen watched as it moved slowly, like a baby deer trying to take its first steps. She watched it approach her slowly before coming to a stop a foot away from her.
When the cybernetic creature stood before her, Allen studied it. Originally she had wanted her creature to be fully armoured, so then it resembled a medieval knight, or like Robocop. But thanks to that mess where her work had been discovered, her desire to cover the Inner exoskeleton had not been realised, so the upper covering which was more solid and would have been more protective was missing. But the special alloys blended with various plastics were still tough.
But what really bothered and frustrated her the most about her creation was she hadn't been able to find enough of the components to make the chest unit more efficient, not to mention compact. It took up a large section of the chest. It resembled a high-tech accordion connected into the creature by pipes and wires, giving it a crude appearance.
The good thing was the creatures' technology and basic life-support mechanism was as it should be, as was the internet like technology built into the creature's helmet.
"Do you know me?" she asked it.
For a moment the creature was silent and then the slit that was the mouth lit up as the voice-synthesiser activated. "You are Doctor Kathryn Allen," the creature answered.
Allen nodded. So far so good. "Who are you?"
"I was the entity known as Michael Bashir," the creature replied without any kind of thought. It wasn't bothered that it had once been a human being with emotions and a childhood now replaced by cold hard logic.
Allen nodded again, just as unaffected by the creature's nonchalance though it was only stating the facts. "What do you think of when you consider the humans?" she asked, choosing her words carefully.
For a moment the creature paused to consider, and Allen was worried for a second that her creation's internal computer may be malfunctioning…
"Humans are us, but we are superior because we have seen the truth. They must be uplifted from their emotional weaknesses. They must become like us," the creature responded coldly.
Allen smiled. Any normal human would have been disgusted, horrified, by what the creature had just said. But not her; she had become fed up and tired of the never-ending emotional crap, all that talk about morals and ethics had driven her crazy. While she disliked Vulcans and considered them arrogant and holier than thou compared to humanity because they were scientifically more advanced, she believed they had the right idea about emotions.
They should be cut out.
What had emotions ever done for humanity?
Throwing that thought out of her mind instantly - it was irrelevant now anyway - and she stepped closer. She wasn't afraid of her own creation - it was programmed to obey her.
"What are you called?"
"I have no designation."
"What about your species, what are you?"
"My species name is Human.2."
Allen smirked. "No," she declared. "You are not human. You have a human brain," she clarified. "But you are more than human."
She fell silent for a moment, considering. The original prototypes had been barely been functional when she'd worked to refine their design and their technology, many of her subjects had been destroyed when the conversion process had driven them insane.
But her new creature was the final prototype. Survival was practically all it would think it about, but it was a new race. It deserved a completely different name.
"You are the salvation of the human race," she said, stepping closer to the creature, and she placed her hand lightly on the chest plate, marvelling at her genius as she had tried desperately to survive. It had not been her intention to create a new human species, but once she had started she had known that her new species would need to survive. "I shall name you - the Cyberman. Now, what are you?"
"I am a Cyberman."
"Correct," Allen hid a smile at the creature's promptness. "You are a Cyberman, and you are the first of the new race of Cybermen."
Allen turned away and walked towards the entrance, leaving the newly-named Cyberman behind. As she reached the door, she half turned. "Come, there is much for us to do," she ordered.
The Cyberman walked slowly towards her, and she walked through the door with the Cyberman right behind her.
Until next time.