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🏚- A memory about exploration

The Enterprise-E was not a large ship. Not compared to Starfleet Academy’s campus where he had spent four of his past five years of life. Not compared to the Daystrom Institute where he was born and achieved sentience. The ship was elegant and roomy - a Sovereign-class masterpiece. B had memorized the schematics. He knew every corridor, every room, every Jefferies tube on the ship, but it didn’t prepare him for seeing the ship. Living on the ship.

Every corridor looked nearly identical. As B-4 walked along deck ten aft on his way to Ten Forward, he ran his fingers along the imperfections in the metal framing. The ship was not a new one, not anymore. Far from the sterile air of a new starship, this one had character. Had eighteen years of history on its decks.

When brought aboard only days before, he was given the standard tour. He began in sickbay, shown his station, made aware of the locations of the medical supplies he might need. Then he was shown the research labs. Then every ‘important’ space aboard. Ten Forward. The holodecks. The nursery. The bridge.

At the end of the day he was instructed to go to his quarters. As a lower-ranking officer, he shared his quarters with another ensign - a young engineer named Morag who B-4 knew from the Academy. Her side of the room was decorated - a large Scottish flag hung on the wall. Pictures of family on the dresser. An Acamarian string instrument tucked into the corner. B-4’s bed was plain. His side was devoid of any niceties or sentimental trinkets. It was just a room.

Since he’d been aboard, there had been no time to adventure. No time to explore the space around him, to experience the hallways at least once so he could keep a visual record of the ship. Now he painstakingly paced through the halls, touching everything he could. After two hours, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“B-4.”

He stopped to turn to his brother. It was 17:05 - Data had just been relieved of duty and had several hours before his return to the bridge for Gamma shift. The two were nearly identical, save the difference in uniform - B-4 in medical blue and Data in command red.

“What are you doing?”

B-4 looked back to the knick in the wall. His fingers were still covering it. He moved them as if to show Data, but received only a confused expression. “I was exploring,” he said.

“I have received five reports of your unethical behavior, Brother,” Data explained. “The crew are concerned about your ‘exploration’.”

B-4 looked back to the scratch in the wall. “I was simply attempting to map out the intricacies of the Enterprise,” he said as he frowned. “Do they think I am behaving inappropriately?” Worry bubbled up in his chest.

“They are not accustomed to such a…” He paused to consider his word choice carefully. “A thorough investigation of the ship. They were under the impression something was wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“With the ship.”

“Oh.”

The two stood across from each other for a moment. B-4 had not considered what impression he was making on his new crewmates, nor had it occurred to him that they would report strange behavior to Data. It made sense, however, seeing as he was the first officer.

“What have you found during your exploration?” Data asked.

I have noted several small flaws in the integrity of the ship’s internal structure, but corridors are largely identical. This observation was...flat. Pointless. “Nothing really,” he said with a shrug. “It’s...a nice ship.”

Data nodded in agreement. “It is a ‘nice ship’. I have heard the Sovereign-class starships are a popular class amongst the more modern varieties. Have you found your room comfortable?”

B-4 thought back to his quarters. “It is different than the academy,” he said.

“That it is,” Data agreed.

“It will take some getting used to.” He frowned and said. “I feel uneasy when I go to my quarters. I have stress. I don’t dislike them, but I’m not happy.”

“You became accustomed to your old space,” Data explained. “You now miss it.”

B hadn’t considered that one could ‘miss’ a place. “That may be true. How do I fix this?”

“You cannot. The feeling will subside when your neural processors have become accustomed to the new space. This will come after some time with developed familiarity.”

B-4 nodded. That made sense to him, but it did not help the negative feeling about his room go away.

“Dr. Crusher tells me you are doing well in sickbay. She is impressed with your work ethic. Very well done.”

“Thank you.” The answer was automatic and lacking in sincerity. Just like Data’s compliments. “I should stop my exploration of the ship now?”

Data offered a sympathetic look. “That would be advisable.”

“Okay.” B tucked his hands behind his back. “I will continue tomorrow.”

Data looked decidedly content. “Perhaps limit your exploration to one hour per day...in an effort to appease those around you.”

They both took a moment to glance at the officers moving around them. No one paid them any mind. The ship was bustling, doors to Ten Forward opening and closing every few seconds, people lost in conversation. B glanced at the scratch in the titanium plating. In an effort to appease those around you. “Okay.”

#about b4 #oooh I liked this one very much thanks!#fasciinating

👤 A personality trait/type they dislike.

In other people, B-4 is not fond of people who are impatient. Maybe it’s the plethora of memories he has hat involve the annoyed faces of people who are waiting for him to complete a simple task. Maybe it’s his experience with so many classmates at the academy who raised an eyebrow at his blank expression when they use a common figure of speech that he doesn’t understand. He tends to get very stressed when he feels like he is taking too long to complete something or he is holding someone up. In himself, B-4 is not fond of - as Data is fond of saying - ‘wearing his heart on his sleeve’. It comes from an emotion chip being installed too early and a lack of coping ability. He is quick to upset and often speaks before he thinks. His questions come from a place of ‘identify the emotion’ rather than ‘look for a solution. Such as ‘I am stressed and I will share that I am stressed’ rather than identifying the reason and saying ‘if I complete this task, that is causing the stress, the bad feeling will go away.

#b4 speaks #thank you for the ask!#fasciinating #about b4

🐺- A memory about being alone

“You will not be alone,” Data assured him. “You will be with your classmates.”

Sometimes, B-4 felt disconnected from his brother. They were nearly identical in every way, but Data lacked the emotional understanding that B-4 was seemingly plagued with. He had heard about many of Data’s experiences at the Academy. It involved a lot of prejudice. A lot of jeering comments. None of this bothered him, of course, so his reassurances meant very little.

Now that he had begun his Academy training, he definitely felt alone. His roommate seemed a decent person, but B-4 found himself avoiding his quarters as much as possible. The first week of school, he had a dream that shocked him right back into cognitive functions with a yelp and a burst of emotion that horrified the other cadet. He had discontinued the program then, but it bothered his roommate that he did not sleep. So B took to roaming the grounds at night, which got him into trouble when people reported him lurking on the walking paths at 0400 hours. This was a bad beginning to an even worse experience.

#about b4 #woooot headcanons #thanks for the ask!#soongtypefrankenstein

Or perhaps a memory of a time B felt safe and relaxed 🎈please

“Why do you insist upon archaic forms of musical recordings? You know you could probably get this from the ship’s computer?”

B-4 sat on the edge of his bed watching the record spin. Most people aboard would not know what a turntable was let alone how to use one. This did nothing to quell his fascination with the machine.

“Sentimental value, I guess.” The record player had been a gift from his brother who had received it as a gift himself. The replicator had easily made several records, all of which Data had shared with him.

Before Data’s revival, he and Bruce had listened to ancient music. He had called it ‘jazz’. He said it had only ever been fleeting in its popularity - thriving in the mid-twentieth century and existing as a stepping stone in the evolution of music. B-4 swore that the frequency of which they listened to the albums engrained some permanence in his memory engrams. He often found those songs ‘stuck in his head’.

They had listened to music often when he was first activated. Data thought learning to spin records would help with motor skills early on. He remembered taking great care in lifting the arm, making sure the needle didn’t drop onto the record in a way that was damaging. Frank Sinatra, Perry Como...these were the names he associated with his ‘childhood’. Family. Home.

“You like ancient Earth music,” he reminded his roommate.

Morag scoffed. “Yea, like The Beatles,” she said. “The Rolling Stones. The Who. Nae this insanity.” She gestured wildly to the turntable and shook her head. “Yeh even look at the thing the wrong way and it’s broken.”

“That’s why you aren’t allowed near it when it’s running,” B reminded her. The music crooned from the speakers with a crackle that drove Morag up a wall but that B-4 adored for reasons unclear to him. It added value to the audio that he could only attribute to emotional attachment. ‘Haven't felt like this, my dear, since I can't remember when. It's been a long, long time.’

He couldn’t sing like Data. The familiarity of his brother’s voice had always served to dampen the effects of his emotion chip enough to focus and reset when he felt overwhelmed. He did hum to himself on occasion, or sing poorly under his breath when he was working on a menial task.

“I’m leaving,” Morag said as the door to their quarters swung open.

“Alright,” B answered too late to an empty room.

The song changed and B-4 leaned back until he was flat on the bed, feet on the floor, face toward the ceiling. He closed his eyes and attempted to shut down all simultaneous functions until all that was left running were his auditory processors. Bing Crosby’s voice filled his head and subsequently memories of The Daystrom Insititute followed. It was amazing to him that music could bring about such a peaceful place of comfort - even for a biological lifeform. A slight smile crept up onto his face. He continued replaying the song in his head long after the record came to a crackling stop.

#about b4 #datalaur

👘

👘 - A memory associated with an article of clothing they have.

The first time B-4 put on his Starfleet uniform was one hour and twenty-three minutes prior to his graduation ceremony. He had received it in his mailbox approximately a week beforehand and it had sat, folded perfectly, in its flimsy, plastic bag, untouched.

When B-4 looked at the uniform, ominously perched on a chair in the corner of his room, he felt conflicted. His first notion was to believe he didn’t deserve to wear it at all. While he had done well academically, the qualities of a Starfleet officer went well beyond test grades. At the same time, he also felt overwhelming pride, something that was foreign to him and hurt in his chest like anxiety. He had made it through the Academy, something he hadn’t thought possible.

#I have legit wanted to write this our for a while so THANK YOU #about b4 #inadxquacy

🏡 A memory about a location, please

“Why do we dream?”

The question sounded vaguely sentimental - like a child musing about the workings of the universe. B-4 had not meant for it to come off that way. He was genuinely curious as to the point of coding dreams into their secondary functions. To him, the act seemed superfluous. Meaningless.

Data had deliberately given him the ability to dream. It seemed a waste of time - after all, B-4 did not require sleep - yet he shut down his cognitive functions each evening in order to experience simulated rest. It did not make sense.