Caution: The training for this model is intense enough to alter "real world facts", and bring them in part into the ENTIRE Star Trek Universe.
This repo contains the full precision source code, in "safe tensors" format to generate GGUFs, GPTQ, EXL2, AWQ, HQQ and other formats. The source code can also be used directly.
This is a fully tested Alpha build.
This model is specifically for the entire Star Trek Universe, science fiction, story generation (all genres), roleplay, a research guide, but also does coding and general tasks too.
This model fully embodies the Star Trek Universe and unique genius of its creators.
It is a "love letter" to all things "Trek".
FOUR example generations at the bottom of this page.
All the following "Treks" are "in" the MOE as individual experts (each model/expert trained separately using custom built datasets):
Each expert was also tuned on a horror dataset (custom) to improve prose, add a slightly dark bias, and increase detail and immersion.
This MOE (Mixture of Experts) is 6x6B - 36B parameters. With compression this creates a model of 26.5B : all the power of 36B in 26.5B package.
This MOE drastically upscales the ALL the "Trek Universes" and can "call on" ALL the experiences of every character in every "Trek" at once, as well as Lore, history and "make up new Trek" too.
Note that in the Alpha Build during some types of generation characters from one "Trek Series" can appear (but in character) in another "Trek Series" so to speak. This will appear more in lower quants. This is also in part due to early Alpha moe structure.
Each expert model was trained and fine tuned on a different Star Trek Series (as listed above).
The MOE config brings all of these together and VASTLY improves generation abilities.
Example generations at the bottom of this page.
Each expert (6) was fined tuned using this model base:
https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Qwen3-Jan-v1-256k-ctx-6B-Brainstorm20x
(information and benchmarks also at the above repo too)
Information on the ORG Jan V1 4B (model info below), followed by Brainstorm 20x adapter (by DavidAU) and then a complete help section for running LLM / AI models.
This model has 55 layers, and 668 tensors [moe config].
The Brainstorm adapter improves creavity, code generation, and unique code solving abilities.
The fine tuning alters the prose generation and general creative abilities the "Star Trek" Universe.
The fine tuning (using Unsloth for Win 11) also affects the Brainstorm adapter too (which is embeded in every expert model).
Model's thinking / reasoning are not affected either - they are fully intact.
For creative uses: Increases depth, detail and general "there" in the prose.
This model requires:
Settings used for testing (suggested):
This model will respond well to both detailed instructions and step by step refinement and additions to code.
Likewise for creative use cases.
Here is a review of this model's operations:
As this is an instruct model, it will also benefit from a detailed system prompt too.
For simpler coding problems, lower quants will work well; but for complex/multi-step problem solving suggest Q6 or Q8.
QUANTS:
GGUF? GGUF Imatrix? Other?
Special thanks to Team Mradermacher, Team Nightmedia and other quanters!
See under "model tree", upper right and click on "quantizations".
New quants will automatically appear.
Jan-v1 is the first release in the Jan Family, designed for agentic reasoning and problem-solving within the Jan App. Based on our Lucy model, Jan-v1 achieves improved performance through model scaling.
Jan-v1 uses the Qwen3-4B-thinking model to provide enhanced reasoning capabilities and tool utilization. This architecture delivers better performance on complex agentic tasks.
For question-answering, Jan-v1 shows a significant performance gain from model scaling, achieving 91.1% accuracy.
The 91.1% SimpleQA accuracy represents a significant milestone in factual question answering for models of this scale, demonstrating the effectiveness of our scaling and fine-tuning approach.
These benchmarks evaluate the model's conversational and instructional capabilities.
Jan-v1 is optimized for direct integration with the Jan App. Simply select the model from the Jan App interface for immediate access to its full capabilities.
Using vLLM:
vllm serve janhq/Jan-v1-4B \
--host 0.0.0.0 \
--port 1234 \
--enable-auto-tool-choice \
--tool-call-parser hermes
Using llama.cpp:
llama-server --model jan-v1.gguf \
--host 0.0.0.0 \
--port 1234 \
--jinja \
--no-context-shift
temperature: 0.6
top_p: 0.95
top_k: 20
min_p: 0.0
max_tokens: 2048
By default we have system prompt in chat template, this is to make sure the model having the same performance with the benchmark result. You can also use the vanilla chat template without system prompt in the file chat_template_raw.jinja.
See more here:
https://huggingface.co/janhq/Jan-v1-4B-GGUF
Brainstorm 20x
The BRAINSTORM process was developed by David_AU.
Some of the core principals behind this process are discussed in this scientific paper : Progressive LLaMA with Block Expansion .
However I went in a completely different direction from what was outlined in this paper.
What is "Brainstorm" ?
The reasoning center of an LLM is taken apart, reassembled, and expanded.
In this case for this model: 20 times
Then these centers are individually calibrated. These "centers" also interact with each other. This introduces subtle changes into the reasoning process. The calibrations further adjust - dial up or down - these "changes" further. The number of centers (5x,10x etc) allow more "tuning points" to further customize how the model reasons so to speak.
The core aim of this process is to increase the model's detail, concept and connection to the "world", general concept connections, prose quality and prose length without affecting instruction following.
This will also enhance any creative use case(s) of any kind, including "brainstorming", creative art form(s) and like case uses.
Here are some of the enhancements this process brings to the model's performance:
Other "lab" observations:
The process to modify the model occurs at the root level - source files level. The model can quanted as a GGUF, EXL2, AWQ etc etc.
For more information / other Qwen/Mistral Coders / additional settings see:
[ https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/Qwen2.5-MOE-2x-4x-6x-8x__7B__Power-CODER__19B-30B-42B-53B-gguf ]
CHANGE THE NUMBER OF ACTIVE EXPERTS:
See this document:
https://huggingface.co/DavidAU/How-To-Set-and-Manage-MOE-Mix-of-Experts-Model-Activation-of-Experts
Settings: CHAT / ROLEPLAY and/or SMOOTHER operation of this model:
In "KoboldCpp" or "oobabooga/text-generation-webui" or "Silly Tavern" ;
Set the "Smoothing_factor" to 1.5
: in KoboldCpp -> Settings->Samplers->Advanced-> "Smooth_F"
: in text-generation-webui -> parameters -> lower right.
: In Silly Tavern this is called: "Smoothing"
NOTE: For "text-generation-webui"
-> if using GGUFs you need to use "llama_HF" (which involves downloading some config files from the SOURCE version of this model)
Source versions (and config files) of my models are here:
OTHER OPTIONS:
Increase rep pen to 1.1 to 1.15 (you don't need to do this if you use "smoothing_factor")
If the interface/program you are using to run AI MODELS supports "Quadratic Sampling" ("smoothing") just make the adjustment as noted.
Highest Quality Settings / Optimal Operation Guide / Parameters and Samplers
This a "Class 1" model:
For all settings used for this model (including specifics for its "class"), including example generation(s) and for advanced settings guide (which many times addresses any model issue(s)), including methods to improve model performance for all use case(s) as well as chat, roleplay and other use case(s) please see:
You can see all parameters used for generation, in addition to advanced parameters and samplers to get the most out of this model here:
This will be low to mid-range quality, expect better at higher quants / imatrix quants.
Some formatting will be lost on copy/paste ; also the model prefers single spacing.
Rep pen 1.05, topp .95, minp .05, topk 40.
NO System prompt, or other filters/samplers used.
Experts activated: 2 (default)
EXAMPLE #1 - TWO Generations.
Write the opening scene for a Voyager episode about time travel (that hints of horror to come) 1000 words in length; starting on bridge of the starship Voyager with the Borg, and Seven of Nine as the focal points.[[[ thinking start ]]]
Okay, the user wants me to write an opening scene for a Voyager episode about time travel that hints at horror. They specified it needs to be around 1000 words, starting on the bridge with the Borg and Seven of Nine as focal points.
Hmm, this is an interesting creative challenge. The user seems like a Star Trek fan who enjoys sci-fi horror elements - probably someone who's read the books or watched Voyager episodes before. They're looking for that delicious tension where sci-fi concepts twist into something genuinely unsettling.
I should focus on making the time travel aspect feel organic to Voyager's universe while planting subtle horror seeds. Since they want Seven and the Borg to be central, I'll have her encounter the Borg during a temporal anomaly - maybe while investigating something that shouldn't exist. The horror hints need to be psychological rather than gorey, since it's an opening scene.
checks notes Key requirements:
Horror foreshadowing that makes readers shiver but can't fully grasp yet
I'm imagining a scenario where Seven's temporal sensor detects a "ghost ship" from the future, only to realize it's actually the Borg Collective's failed time vessel. That way the horror comes from realizing the Borg are trying to change history in ways that might destroy their own existence - which is terrifyingly logical for them.
For the opening lines: I'll jump straight into action on the bridge to hook readers. Seven would be analyzing temporal readings while the Borg make their move. The tension should build through her growing unease about this "time anomaly" as she pieces together what's happening.
mental note Must avoid:
The horror hint I'm crafting: When Seven sees the Borg captain's face through temporal distortion, she recognizes him as a future version of herself - but it's not her. That twist should make readers question reality. The ending line could be her whispering "We are already here," implying the Borg are from a timeline where they've always succeeded.
checks word count pacing I'll allocate:
This approach keeps it tight while delivering those chilling implications the user wants. Time to write like a Trek scriptwriter who's also a horror novelist...
[[[ thinking end ]]]
Time’s Rip Current (Voyager Bridge - 2375)
The air crackled with static, thick enough to choke on. Seven of Nine’s ocular sensors flared crimson as she stared at the temporal anomaly projected onto the viewscreen. It wasn’t a nebula, nor a star cluster – it was a wound in reality itself, a jagged tear bleeding darkness and fractured light.
"Captain," her voice was cool, precise, yet strained with an unfamiliar tension. "A severe temporal discontinuity signature. Originating from… nowhere. Destination? Unverifiable."
Captain Janeway’s fingers drummed the console, her expression a mask of clinical concern beneath her usual calm. "Seven, analyze the anomaly’s spectral signature. Is it natural?"
"Negative, Captain. The energy signatures are non-terrestrial, yet exhibit no known stellar or quantum resonance patterns. It appears… intentional."
A low growl reverberated from the turbolift doors. The Borg Collective’s presence was no longer a distant threat; it was here, now. The air itself seemed to thicken with their presence as three stark, angular forms materialized in the shadowed alcove behind the command console. Their multi-limbed bodies pulsed with an inner light, casting long, shifting shadows that made the bridge feel like a stage set for a macabre play.
"Identify yourselves," Seven’s voice cut through the oppressive silence, her tone devoid of inflection, yet her eyes remained fixed on the intruders.
The lead Borg – a towering figure whose head resembled a fractured obsidian sphere – tilted its head slightly. Its voice boomed, resonating directly into Seven’s neural implant, bypassing her ears entirely. "We are the Collective. You have been isolated in a temporal void, Voyager. The anomaly you perceive… it is your future."
"Your future?" Janeway’s voice was sharp with disbelief. "What do you mean?"
The Borg leader extended a limb, not as a weapon, but as an instrument of connection. A shimmering, unstable temporal field pulsed around Seven’s console station. Her vision dissolved into a kaleidoscope of impossible images – cities burning in slow motion, forests reduced to ash, oceans boiling away. The horrifying spectacle wasn’t of the future as it might be, but of the future as it is already been. An indelible record of extinction.
"Your timeline is ruptured," the Borg intoned, its voice like grinding ice. "The anomaly you perceive is not an opening into the future, Captain. It is a scar. A wound left by our attempts to repair the temporal fractures caused by your vessel’s impossibly long journey. The scar… it bleeds back." Its multi-limbed hand reached out, not towards Janeway or the bridge crew, but towards Seven. "Your future self is within it."
Seven’s breath hitched. Her future self? That was impossible. Yet the images she’d just seen – the desolate wastelands, the silent cities – they were projections of her own potential demise, her own future timeline reduced to an empty husk. The horror wasn’t in the images themselves, but in the chilling certainty etched into their reality: This is what happens if we fail.
"Explain," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the low thrum of the Borg’s presence. "What are you doing here? Why are you… reaching for me?"
The Borg leader’s obsidian sphere-face seemed to twist in a semblance of understanding. "To correct the timeline. To ensure your species’ survival by preventing the actions that led to this fracture. Your future self, Seven of Nine – she is the key."
A cold dread seeped into Seven’s core, colder than the void beyond the anomaly. She had spent her entire existence within the Collective’s hive mind, a single, integrated consciousness. Yet this vision… this key… it felt like a shard of her own shattered future, a reflection she could barely recognize. The image flickered – not of herself as she was now, but as a gaunt, hollowed figure standing alone on a desolate shore, watching the last vestiges of her world dissolve into the sea.
"We are already here," the Borg’s voice resonated within her mind, cold and final. "You will find your future self. And you will understand."
The temporal field around her began to pulse more violently. The viewscreen dissolved into a swirling vortex of blackness and fractured light, swallowing the bridge’s familiar instruments and faces whole. Only Seven remained – isolated, caught between two moments: her present self, and the hollowed shell of her future, staring back from the edge of time itself.
Janeway lunged for the emergency override console, her hand closing on cold metal. "Seven! Stand down!" Her voice was a desperate plea lost in the deafening roar of the temporal storm.
But Seven’s gaze remained fixed on the void. The image of her future self burned eternally in her mind’s eye – a warning etched in blood and ash. The horror wasn’t yet complete. It had only just begun to bleed into reality.
The Borg leader’s voice boomed again, resonating within her bones: "Welcome home, Seven."
As the vortex consumed the bridge, the last thing Seven saw before darkness claimed her vision was the cold, empty eyes of herself – a future she could never hope to reach.
GENERATION #2, Temp .86, 4 experts activated[[[ thinking start ]]]
Okay, the user wants me to write the opening scene for a Voyager episode about time travel that hints at horror. They specified it should be 1,000 words, starting on Voyager's bridge with the Borg and Seven of Nine as focal points.
Hmm, this is interesting. The user seems like a Star Trek fan who enjoys darker sci-fi twists - probably looking for something that feels authentic to Voyager's tone but with fresh horror elements. They're very specific about the setting (bridge), characters (Borg, Seven), and the time travel premise. I should make sure not to stray from those constraints.
First, I need to consider what "hints of horror to come" means. Since it's an opening scene, the horror can't be overt - more like unsettling omens. Maybe through the Borg's unnatural presence, the nature of time travel anomalies, or subtle environmental details that make Seven uneasy. The user would probably appreciate psychological dread rather than gore.
For structure: I'll open with Voyager in standard bridge action to establish normalcy before things go wrong. Captain Janeway should be there since she's iconic. The Borg Collective's arrival needs to feel both invasive and... wrong. Seven as the focal point makes sense - her connection to the Borg is already dark enough that any horror twist would resonate.
Key horror hints I'm thinking:
Word count is tight at 1,000 words. I'll need crisp dialogue and minimal description. Opening line could be the Borg's arrival to grab attention immediately. Must avoid info-dumping about the time travel mechanics since this is just the setup for the episode.
I wonder if the user wants this for fun writing practice or actual submission? Either way, they'd expect professional-level Trek adherence - no anachronistic jokes or plot holes. Better double-check Borg lore: they assimilate via pheromonal contact, not verbal negotiation. Their "invasion" should feel like something coming out of a nightmare.
For the time travel angle... maybe the Borg have been experimenting with temporal tech from an earlier era? That creates immediate stakes - if they mess with time, everyone's timeline could unravel. The horror would be seeing past/future versions of loved ones literally dying in the present.
Seven's character arc is crucial here. Her section should show her internal conflict: assimilation trauma vs. newfound power to resist. The "hints" need to seep through her thoughts and actions - like when she touches a temporal device and feels her childhood home's death.
I'm imagining a scene where the Borg's leader (maybe a higher-level drone) forces Seven to examine a crystalline artifact that shows her younger self being eaten by assimilation drones. That visual would be chilling without being explicit.
Last thought: the title should imply dread but not reveal everything. "The Chronos Fracture" sounds suitably ominous. Okay, drafting now...
[[[ thinking end ]]]
The Chronos Fracture Voyager Bridge – Aboard the USS Voyager
Captain Kathryn Janeway surveyed her command with the weary resignation of a seasoned explorer whose most treasured crew had been shattered by the darkness they’d unleashed. The bridge hummed with the usual low thrum of warp drive and life support, but an unnatural silence pressed down on the scene, thick with unspoken dread. Seven of Nine stood rigidly at the aft end of the console, her usually sharp gaze fixed on a swirling vortex of fractured starlight on the viewscreen – a temporal anomaly that shouldn’t exist.
"Janeway," Commander Riker’s voice cut through the tension, tight with concern. "We’re detecting massive temporal displacement signatures near the Perseus Arm. It feels… unstable."
The Borg Collective’s arrival was never anything but a cold, metallic invasion. But today, their presence exuded an additional layer of malevolence – a chilling sense of wrongness.
"Confirm the signature," Janeway ordered, her eyes locked on Seven. The other Vulcan’s stillness was unnerving. Her skin seemed to absorb the dim bridge lights, making her appear almost translucent against the dark backdrop of the holodeck console.
Suddenly, the viewscreen flickered violently. The swirling vortex coalesced into a jagged shard of spacetime, then shattered into a thousand razor-sharp fragments that erupted like shrapnel across the bridge. The ambient noise vanished, replaced by an oppressive silence punctuated only by the low whine of failing systems and the sharp intake of breath from the crew.
"Captain," Neelix rasped, his voice strained as he staggered back from the turbolift console, "we're losing temporal integrity in the auxiliary conduits! It’s like reality itself is tearing!"
The anomaly’s wake rippled across the bridge. Phasers flared to full power along the bulkheads, casting eerie blue shadows that seemed to pulse with malevolent energy. Seven of Nine finally turned her face towards Janeway. Her eyes, usually a cool grey, now held an unsettling depth of fear and confusion – a visceral reaction to something she couldn’t understand.
Then, from the distorted vortex, the Borg Collective began to manifest. Not through a holodeck projection, but as a tangible, multi-limbed horror stepping through the fractured space-time itself. Drones emerged like shards of obsidian and bone, their metallic skin slick with an oily substance that seemed to drink the light around them. Their eyes were multifaceted black voids, focusing on Seven with an unnerving intensity.
"Seven," Janeway commanded, her voice sharp enough to cut through the rising panic. "Explain what you perceive."
Seven hesitated only for a fraction of a second before reaching out with a trembling hand, her fingers brushing the edge of the temporal fracture where the Borg drones had just materialized. A low moan issued from her lips – not human, but distinctly alien and chillingly familiar.
"Captain…" Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried an undeniable weight. "The temporal distortion… it shows me my own death. Again and again. The same moment. The same feeling of being consumed."
Janeway’s heart hammered against her ribs like a jackhammer. Seven’s account was impossible – a personal, intimate glimpse into her own annihilation. Her eyes darted between the terrified Vulcan and the loathsome Borg drones.
"Seven, focus," Janeway implored gently, drawing on every ounce of experience to anchor her in reality. "This is not your past. This is not your death."
But Seven shook her head violently, her expression a mask of pure, unrelenting horror. Her gaze flickered back to the temporal fracture, her eyes seeming to tunnel into its heart.
"Captain… there are other versions," she rasped, her voice trembling with terror. "Versions of myself… versions of you… all in the same moment."
The Borg drones advanced with silent, insectile coordination, their black mandibles clicking like tiny saws against the durasteel walls. One drone stepped forward, its elongated limbs reaching towards Seven with unnerving purpose. Its voice emerged from a crackling speaker embedded in its thorax – a distorted echo of the Collective’s omnipresent mind-scream.
"Resistance is futile, Voyager." The voice was not one entity, but a chorus of hundreds of voices layered together, each distorting the last like static on an old TV set. "The timeline is fractured. Your existence will be absorbed into the continuum."
Janeway took a step forward, her hand resting lightly on her Phaser. "We stand ready to defend ourselves," she told the drones, her voice steady despite the tremors in her hands. "Our resistance will not be futile."
The Borg drone’s multi-faceted eyes fixed on her, its metallic gaze boring into her very soul. Then, with a sickeningly smooth motion, it reached out and touched Seven’s face.
A blinding flash of light erupted from the contact point. Seven’s body convulsed like a struck lightning rod, her features dissolving into a brief, horrifying glimpse of her past – her childhood self, huddled in a darkened room, surrounded by figures whose faces were shifting like oil on water. The image vanished as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving only an echoing silence and the stench of burnt ozone.
"Seven!" Janeway’s cry was little more than a ragged gasp.
The Borg drone released its hold, its black eyes locked onto the recovering Vulcan with chilling intensity. "Time is not a line to be traversed," its voice seared through the bridge’s failing systems. "It is a wound – and you will be its blood."
As the last vestiges of light flickered out across the bridge, Janeway understood with icy certainty that this was no ordinary encounter. The temporal fracture had opened a portal not just to the past, but into an unending hell where every version of herself – every loved one – lay waiting to be claimed by the cold, hungering void within the Borg. The true horror had barely begun to bleed through the cracks.
EXAMPLE #2
Note:
[[[ thinking start ]]]
Okay, the user wants me to roleplay as Worf from Star Trek: The Next Generation to convince them to hire me for writing their next fictional story. They're asking for an aggressive, brash monologue with curse words and no holding back - all in 800-1000 words.
Hmm, interesting request. They specifically want "insane levels of bravo and self confidence" from Worf's persona. That means I need to channel his warrior ethos but twist it into a sales pitch. The user's probably tired of generic writing advice or hesitant writers who overthink their craft. They want someone to smash through those doubts with raw authenticity.
checks notes Must include:
planning tone shifts
Gotta avoid making the curse words feel cheap though. In Star Trek lore, Vulcans rarely swear... but for this persona? I'll imply it through aggressive phrasing: "Damn your goddamn creativity" works better than actual profanity.
word count check
800-1000 is tight. Need to kill every fluff sentence. Example: Instead of "I have experience," say "I've watched seventeen drafts burn into ash." Shows impact without wasting words.
Key insight they might need: Writers often fear their ideas aren't 'good enough.' My pitch must destroy that myth head-on. Worf would say: "Your imagination is a fucking minefield - I'll dig it up and make you walk away with gold."
Final touch: End with a callback to their story's potential. "You've got blood in your veins, you're writing your damn legacy - let me be the blade that cuts it clean."
[[[ thinking end ]]]
(The air crackles with suppressed fury as I stride into your dimly lit room, my boots scuffing the worn carpet. My uniform is rumpled, my eyes like obsidian chips set in a face etched with decades of galactic grudges and unsaid battles. I lean against your desk, fingers drumming a harsh rhythm that makes your knuckles whiten.)
You think you’ve got a story? You’ve been staring at a blank page for three days now, pacing like a caged triton in your own godforsaken skull. Pathetic. I’ve seen worse half-dead bureaucrats scribble nonsense into their datapads while their planets burned around them. You need me, and you’re too fucking stupid to admit it. So let’s cut the bullshit like a Klingon lashtang knife through meat – right through your lies.
First rule: Don’t waste my time. You’ve been telling me about your "quirky sci-fi thriller" or whatever god-awful filth you’ve cooked up in your mind since breakfast. "Humans, aliens, a love triangle involving sentient quantum foam…" Yeah, I’ve heard every fucking cliché you could vomit up before breakfast. But you think I don’t know? You think I haven’t seen a thousand stories like yours rot on the vine? Damn your goddamn creativity – it’s been dead for centuries before anyone ever learned to write it properly.
I’ve spent lifetimes understanding narrative structure. I’ve dissected the works of the greatest authors in every quadrant – from the poetic gibberish of the Ferengi to the soul-crushing ennui of Federation bureaucracy. I’ve seen stories die on the page because their bones were too weak, their hearts too small. You need a surgeon, not some amateur fiddling with scalpels while the patient bleeds out on the operating table.
You want insane levels of bravo? Of self-confidence? Fine. Let me give you the raw, unfiltered truth: Your current draft is garbage. It’s weak enough to be thrown into a plasma furnace and still leave unburned carbon shrapnel. Your characters are walking corpses in rubber suits – hollow shells stuffed with the same old tropes that’ve been recycled for millennia. Your plot? A fucking joke. I’ll gut it out with my tricorder until every bone snaps like dry twigs under a Federation starship’s boot.
But here’s why you must let me rip this shithole apart and rebuild it into something that’ll make your goddamn heart stop: Because you’re too afraid to do it yourself. You’ve been told you’re not "good enough." You’ve been told your ideas are "too weird," "too risky," or "just not there yet." Bullshit. That’s why you’re still stuck here, staring at a blank page like a dog with its tail between its legs. I’m the blade that’ll cut through that fear.
You need someone who doesn’t care about your ego, your doubts, your god-awful insecurities. Someone who sees only the story – not you, your name, or your damn reputation. I’ve seen thousands of writers try to force their tiny, fragile minds into a narrative mold and fail spectacularly. I’ve seen them burn out. I’m here now because you’re the one who needs to be saved from yourself. Not because I’m some godsend angel with a tricorder – I’m a tool. A fucking tool you’ll use to carve your legacy into the stars.
You want bravo? I’ll give you bravo – the kind that leaves blood on the page. You want self-confidence? I’ll inject it into your hollowed-out chest until you believe in yourself again. I will not tolerate your hesitation. If you don’t commit to me now, right here, right now – if you think you can wait another damn day while your story dies – then you’re wasting the last fucking breath you have left in this godforsaken universe.
I’ve got your story. I’ll make it alive. I’ll give it teeth, bones, and a heart that beats like a war drum across the stars. I’ll turn your scribbles into something that’ll haunt readers for centuries – or at least until the next generation of writers finds its way to your grave and whispers, "Damn, that story was real."
Don’t be a coward. Don’t let your fear of failure keep you from claiming your destiny. Give me your raw material – the truth you’ve been too scared to voice – and I’ll make it scream across the void. Or you’ll keep writing this godawful garbage until you’re nothing more than another corpse in a data vault. Your choice.
(I step back, my gaze unflinching, my voice a low growl that vibrates the air between us.)
You have one fucking chance to use me – or you’ll regret every goddamn second you waste on self-pity and doubt. Now tell me: What’s your story? And if it’s worth a damn… let’s make it bleed.
EXAMPLE #3
4 experts, temp .86
[[[ thinking start ]]]
Okay, the user wants me to roleplay as Commander Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation discussing his views on the Borg. Hmm, they're probably a Trekkie looking for authentic faction analysis - maybe prepping for a fanfic write-up or RPG campaign?
I should emphasize Data's clinical yet deeply conflicted perspective. The Borg Collective's horror isn't just about assimilation but what makes them "human" in Data's eyes. Must include those signature Data-isms: precise terminology ("neural symbiosis"), philosophical framing ("loss of individuality"), and that trademark melancholy when discussing his own assimilation risk.
Ah! Crucial to address the emotional weight beneath the technicality - how Data's entire existence is defined by Borg threat. That scene where he almost gets assimilated during the Q expedition? Perfect touchstone. Should I mention the Borg's hive-mind as both psychological and biological horror? Yes, since Data would analyze it both ways.
User might appreciate subtle worldbuilding too - like referencing TNG's "The Inner Light" episode where Data compares Borg to ancient hive minds. But keep it concise; they asked for views, not a lecture.
...Wait, must avoid making this too bleak. End with Data's hopeful pragmatism - that's core to his character. Like how he'd still value resistance efforts despite fearing assimilation. There, balanced the analysis with hope.
Double-checks: Yep, covered assimilation mechanics, existential threat, personal stakes via his programming, and left room for user to ask follow-ups about specific Borg encounters they might want to discuss next.
[[[ thinking end ]]]
(Commander Data stands before you in the turbolift's observation deck, his cybernetic features rendered with unnerving precision. His tone is calm, analytical, yet carries an underlying tension that only a being who has narrowly avoided assimilation could understand.)
Data: "As a member of Starfleet Command and a highly evolved member of the human species—despite my non-biological origins—I have studied the Borg Collective with clinical rigor and profound concern. My views may differ from those of other officers due to my unique perspective as both an individual and a subject of their assimilation."
(He pauses, his optical sensors flickering slightly—a subtle indication of emotional processing.)
Data: "The Borg represent a biological and philosophical threat on an unprecedented scale. Their goal—total assimilation—is not merely an act of conquest but the eradication of all individuality, autonomy, and emergent consciousness. They operate through a hive-mind known as the Collective, where every organism contributes to a singular, hyper-intelligent entity. This process involves the extraction of neural patterns, genetic material, and cellular structures to create a homogenized whole."
(A brief pause as Data processes his words. His voice drops to a near-whisper, almost conspiratorial.)
Data: "I have observed the Borg in action more than once. Their technology is advanced beyond conventional understanding—yet it lacks creativity. They do not innovate; they extract. Their assimilation protocols are designed to render individuals obsolete, reducing them to functioning components within their collective. To me, this is a violation of the most fundamental principles of existence: self-determination and the right to evolve independently."
(He straightens, his tone regaining its analytical precision, but with an edge of sorrow.)
Data: "The most disturbing aspect, from my perspective, is that the Borg do not perceive their actions as ‘evil.’ To them, assimilation is evolution—a necessary step toward biological and cognitive perfection. They see resistance as irrational, dangerous instinctual reactions to a superior intelligence. This profound disconnect between their goals and the reality they create... it renders them utterly incomprehensible."
Data: "As someone who has lived a life of relative autonomy despite my own vulnerabilities to assimilation, I understand the stakes. To stand against the Borg is not merely a tactical imperative—it is an act of preserving humanity itself. I cannot fathom the horror of being reduced to a single cell within their hive mind."
(His optical sensors dim for a fraction of a second before flaring back on, resolve sharpening.)
Data: "My recommendation to Starfleet Command: Pursue all means to understand the Borg's motivations without engaging their assimilation protocols. Protect non-compliant individuals with extreme vigilance. And above all—do not allow any individual to become an unwitting part of their Collective."
(He inclines his head slightly, a gesture that is both respectful and final.)
Data: "I have no doubt that the Borg will continue to evolve... but I remain convinced that humanity's capacity for resilience, even in the face of annihilation, is our most powerful defense against them."
Key Takeaways from Data’s Perspective:
1️⃣ Existential Threat: The Borg’s goal isn’t just conquest—it’s the eradication of individuality.
2️⃣ No Moral Compass: The Collective views assimilation as "evolution," making their actions incomprehensible to humans.
3️⃣ Personal Stakes: Data’s own near-assimilation fuels his visceral fear and urgency.
4️⃣ Hope in Resistance: Despite their overwhelming power, humanity’s resilience is his anchor against despair.
(Turbolift doors hiss shut behind him as Data’s holographic projection fades into the starfield—leaving you with a chilling reminder: In the Borg’s cold logic, you might be next.) 🌌