Ensign Callie was ready and willing to do whatever she needed to impress her crew and captain. The VMS Whitworth was finest ship in the explorer fleet, and she wanted nothing more than to make herself an integral part of its voyages into the unknown. Even if it meant the dull, and boring task of cleaning, organizing, and cataloging the contents of Cargo Bay 3.

It was during that time she found a computer console a style and make unlike anything she had seen before. She checked her records, finding nothing on the manifest for such a machine, or the encyclopedic databases. Brushing her fingers against the console, she noticed unfamiliar writing. Prickles developed on the back of her neck. Was she looking at an unknown artifact from the Tarlekian civilization? The highly advanced machines that seemingly disappeared over a thousand years ago.

She dropped everything and began to investigate, trying to decipher the code and words written on the console, but without knowing what the buttons did, had little ability to do so. She tried a few, but found each one, while lighting up and sending a signal, did nothing. She bit her lip, looking at the big, red button at the heart of the machine. It was unlabeled. Desperate to get information – any information – about this thing, she pushed it.

Light erupted around Callie and she began to feel strange, overwhelmed. She heard words in an unfamiliar language in her mind. Over the next few seconds, the words became clear, as if she had learned them. 70 Percent. 80 Percent. 90 Percent. Robotization Complete. Unit ready for service.

Ensign Callie was no longer Ensign Callie. A new designation buzzed in its circuits, stamped in its deepest programming: CA-L3Y. It tried to step from its designated location, but protocol didn’t allow it. Its core directives kept it ready and waiting for further directives.

CA-L3Y processed that it really should be very “freaking out about this,” but logical circuitry kept the unit within operational tolerances. The worried feeling spiked when Lieutenant Keller entered Cargo Bay 3. The unit processed it was terribly hopeful that he would notice it, but desired to hide when he did see the unit. Logically, this made no sense. Emotionally, it made a great deal of sense.

“What are you?”

That was an invitation to speak if the unit ever knew one. For the first time speaking as a robot, it said: “Unit is designated as CA-L3Y, a multi-functional service robot designed for assistance and support. How may this unit assist you?”

“You look familiar,” the Lieutenant said, wondering.

“This Unit had previously been designated as Ensign Callie Collwell. Robot Protocol converted Ensign Collwell into present physical form.” It said, relieving a need the unit had for revealing its origins. Now, the unit’s fate was in human hands. Its interior monologue remained optimistic that the Lieutenant would use his knowledge of electronics to deconvert the unit. But he did not appear to have that concern.

“These letters…they look Tarlekian. What information do you have about that civilization?”

“I am fully programmed with the full Tarlekian encyclopedia. Would you like me to recite it?” The unit asked.

“No!” The Lieutenant said quicky. He smiled then. “But thank you. Unit CA-L3Y, I think you’re going to be a great help to this mission.”

Unit CA-L3Y was, indeed, an integral and an important part of the Whitworth’s five year mission. Just not in the way it ever intended.