I jeszcze cytat (niekanoniczny) z TTN (mniej dwuznaczny skrót od TIT) "Orion's Hounds" Bennetta:

Ranul Keru was a big man, big enough to be intimidating. That was something he did his best to downplay in his personal life, but readily made use of in his security work. And right now, as he loomed over Torvig Bu-kar-nguv—one of the four Academy seniors serving their work-study tours on Titan—he wanted to be intimidating. It should’ve been easy; the Choblik was diminutive in comparison, a meter-high biped built something like a short-furred ostrich with an herbivore’s head, a short neck, and a long, prehensile tail. If not for his bionic arms and sensory organs, the joint enhancements on his legs, the small bionic hand at the tip of his tail, and the polymer-armor plating over his vital areas, Torvig would’ve looked like the kind of small woodland creature who would dart for the under-growth at the first sign of a big, bearish omnivore like Keru. Instead, despite all of Keru’s best looming and glowering, the engineering cadet merely studied him with the same wide-eyed, analytical curiosity he seemed to apply to everything. If anything, Keru found himself intimidated by that stare—or by the cyber-enhanced eyes that did the staring.
Abandoning the staring-contest idea, Keru went for a more overt confrontation. “The access logs clearly show that your codes were used to tamper with the replicator. Do you know what we found?”
“No, sir,” the Choblik said in his flattish, synthetic voice.
A likely story. “We found it had been infested with nanoprobes. That it had been programmed to infuse those nanoprobes into the crew’s food. Nanoprobes that were designed to latch on to their intestinal walls and remain there indefinitely, doing who knows what once they got there.”
“I know what, sir.”
Keru did a double take. “You do?”
“Oh, yes, sir. After all, I did design them.”
A pause. “Then you admit that you did put them in the replicator.”
“Of course, sir. It was the best delivery system for the test.”
Test? All in due time. “So why did you just say you didn’t know what we found?”
Torvig tilted his head querulously. “I didn’t, sir. I knew what was there for you to find, so I hypothesized that they were probably what you found; but I didn’t know for a fact that you had found them until you told me—nor did I know how you might have interpreted the discovery. I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, sir.” His words didn’t have the pedantic tone a Vulcan might have used; rather, he sounded more like an eager student reporting on his research methodology.
“All right, then,” Keru went on. “What exactly was it that you were testing for?”
“Exactly, sir? Would you like me to retrieve my detailed notes from my quarters?”
Keru winced at the Choblik’s literalism. “All right, approximately, then. What were you testing?”
“Gut feelings, sir.”
“Gu—what?!”
“Last week Ensign Panyarachun suggested that I was too analytical in my approach to engineering problems, and told me that humans and other species tend to rely instead on their gut feelings. I didn’t understand what relation the gut would have to cognitive decision-making, so I decided to investigate the question.”
Keru blinked a number of times. “Um…Cadet…you do know that’s only a figure of speech, don’t you?”
“Well, yes, sir, but I was curious about its origins, and I wondered whether it might have a factual basis. The nanites were designed to monitor for neurochemical activity in the humanoid digestive tract.”
It would’ve sounded like a ridiculous excuse to Keru if the cadet didn’t already have a habit of formulating such cockamamie hypotheses and means of testing them. He was a devout empiricist, taking nothing for granted, giving fair consideration to any idea no matter how bizarre, and ruling nothing out until he’d tested it for himself. It would be an admirable trait in an explorer, if only he could focus it better. “But why nanoprobes, Cadet? Why break half a dozen regulations to deliver them in secret? Why not just, I don’t know, ask for volunteers?”
“I figured that since I was investigating the cognitive process, it might contaminate the results if my subjects were aware of the investigation. For all I knew, sir, that could’ve been the reason why a correlation between intestinal activity and problem-solving had not been verified in earlier studies.”
Keru glared at him. He just wasn’t getting it. “Didn’t it occur to you, Cadet, how people might feel about being contaminated with nanoprobes? After all the Borg have inflicted on us over the years, all the grief they’ve caused,” he went on, his voice rising, “did you really think people would take that in stride? That they wouldn’t feel outraged, violated, if these probes of yours had actually managed to get into their systems?”
“They would’ve done no harm, sir. They were made of biodegradable polymers and carbon—”
“That’s not the point! This isn’t about cold facts and analysis, it’s about people’s feelings! Can’t you understand how much people still fear the Borg? How upsetting it would be for them to discover something like this had been done to them, especially by—”
He broke off. Torvig gazed at him for a long moment, then nodded to himself. “I see. By a cyborg like me. Thank you for confirming my secondary thesis, sir.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s clear that you’ve been uncomfortable with me since I came on board, sir. I’ve found that such reactions are often due to prejudice arising from my species’ coincidental similarity to the Borg. Many of us have faced that kind of prejudice, and we’re curious to understand the mechanisms behind it. So intolerance is an area of study in which I have an ongoing interest.” Keru was aware that Torvig had engaged in discussions and debates about humanoid chauvinism with other members of the crew, including a wager with Lieutenant Eviku that Titan would be given a human motto—a wager he’d lost when Riker had chosen the Vulcan creed of “Infinite diversity in infinite combinations” to grace the ship’s dedication plaque. But Torvig’s eager-student mien rarely wavered, so it was hard to tell whether it reflected a genuine fear of persecution or a simple intellectual curiosity. Keru found himself realizing that, in some odd Choblik way, it might be both. “Aside from their other advantages, the use of nanoprobes allowed me to test how you and/or the rest of the crew would react to their discovery—and therefore what factors shape your reaction to me. Sir.” The cadet’s voice, while slightly more subdued than before, hadn’t wavered from its matter-of-fact tone.
But Keru paused before answering, trying to keep his own tone under control. “You mean you deliberately did this…in order to experiment on me? To gauge my reactions, my feelings about the Borg, like some amoeba in a test tube?”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, sir. For one thing the methodology for examining an amoeba would be completely different.”
“Shut up! Just—just tell me why. Why experiment on me?”
Torvig looked up at him. “Because you are a crewmate of mine and I want to get to know you better, sir.”
Keru’s anger deflated, and embarrassment threatened to take its place. But luckily a modicum of irritation remained, though it was more tempered now. Stepping away from Torvig, he took a moment to formulate his words. “Look. I appreciate your interest in learning about your crewmates. But I don’t appreciate being learned about by being experimented on, and I doubt anyone else around here does either. If you want to learn about us, there are better ways. Talk to us, socialize with us.”
“Better in what sense, sir? I assume they’re more comfortable for species like yours; but I’m more comfortable with a practical, empirical approach, with hard, codifiable data. It’s what I’m good at.”
“But not everything can be codified or empirically explained. Gut feelings, for example. Relationships, for another.” Or fears and resentments.
“I disagree, sir. You can never conclusively say that something can’t be explained—only that it hasn’t been explained yet. Well, there is the Incompleteness Principle, of course, but that allows a system to be fully explained within a broader system.”
Keru rubbed his temples; this was giving him a headache. “Look. The bottom line is, you broke regulations. You admit it, and you’re unrepentant. There will have to be penalties, and there will be a mark on your record for this.”
Torvig nodded. “Of course, sir. I anticipated that as a probable outcome. I’m curious to find out what form my discipline will take. There are so many interesting ways of going about it—I hope the captain or Commander Vale will choose one I haven’t experienced yet.”
Keru couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that. “Look. Just…for now, you’re confined to quarters until further notice. Dismissed.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
The Choblik turned and strode gracefully from the security office on his long runner’s legs, his bionic joints working without a sound. His tail deftly shot forward to avoid the closing door behind him. Keru just stared at the closed door for a moment, then shook his head. I guess I can’t fault him for his enthusiasm, at least, he thought. Still, he found himself giving a shudder of relief now that the cyborg was gone. He knew, of course, that the well-meaning young Choblik had nothing to do with the monsters who’d killed his beloved Sean.
But how could he convince his gut?

Czy może stanowić jakiś klucz do zrozumienia sposobu w jaki Borg poznaje świat?

ps. Wystąpili:
http://memory-beta.wikia.com/wiki/Ranul_Keru
http://memory-beta.wikia.com/wiki/Torvig_Bu-Kar-Ng uv
(Gdzie pierwszy z panów jest ex-mężem porucznika Hawka z FC.)

seven of nine dala rade po odlaczeniu sie od kolektywu

meski odpowiednik mialby chyba wieksze problemy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dv8LSu9vljw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sy7qmiBj_5k

krzychu


Skąd taka teza?