"It's a mystery to me," Soji agrees conversationally, though she can't quite keep the curl of a smile off her face. It's good she's just so busy with this console, he won't see the fond look she wants to shoot at the back of his head.
"You're what at this point? You know, collectively?" Soji asks as she engages the engine startup sequence and the ship's main systems kick on, spinning up to full power from grey mode. "Two? Three hundred?" The ship is a bit of salvage Seven helped her with years ago, an amalgam of parts from far a slew of sources, all threaded together with a hash of green power couplings and creative welding. It's comfortable enough, has space for three or four people even if it only has two at present. Everything works, for a given value of working, and she hardly even notices which screens refuse to switch off Romulan and Borg. More than anything, though, the ship is fast. Disconcertingly fast. It's a feature that Soji never tires of.
However, she thinks she may revise that opinion shortly. She hasn't witnessed his talent as a pilot, but Deanna had gone on at length about his maneuvering a Galaxy class through an active, (and detonating) Cube. This ship, unlike the Enterprise, is small and nimble enough that it practically begs to be jacknifed around any and all obstacles. (It's the Romulan parts, they are all death defiance, all the way down.)
She gives him a sunny smile as she drops into the copilot's seat.
"Maybe they need someone backwards compatible?"
@ltcommanderandroid
Collectively, perhaps, though the memories of the other individuals in his mind were rather like those of the colonists long ago. Like something he read in a book, detached and yet integral to who he had become - but, then, he'd learned that stories could have such power long ago too, when he had first been introduced to the works of Conan Doyle.
So long ago. Yet, he had only been forty-one when he had sacrificed himself for his friends. They had lived on without him and now, he still felt the youngest among them even in this aged body. Well, the youngest, with the exception of new friends. Family. It was strange, to have family again. Could he even say 'again', when Lal had been so brief in his life, and his father too, and his brothers...
B4's memories were faint, but Lore, who had fought so hard to be, was prominent. In fact, Data wasn't entirely sure where he ended and Lore began. He understood now, understood the loneliness, the isolation his brother had felt. How different things might have been, had they recognized that loneliness in each other... long ago.
Data was tugged out of this analysis of old memories and, in consequence, old regrets by Soji's less than veiled insult. Eyes narrowed and he let out a sarcastic laugh that, in hindsight, he was quite sure was Lore's influence. Though it was, he could admit to himself, more than a little funny and more than a little true. "Or they've taken a long look at newer models and decided it would be better to go back to an old classic." But, after, he fell silent. He'd always seen being admitted to the Academy, his service in Starfleet, as a great personal achievement but now he found himself wondering if he would have been allowed to do anything else.
The repartee was witty and cutting, and Soji's smile pulled wider as she let out a huff of a laugh. Alton Soong had been nice enough, though Soji had always found him too paternalistic in an excruciating, patronizing way. She was fond of the Coppelius androids, of course, but they weren't....the best company. This, however? She certainly didn't have the best barometer for it, but this felt closer to the concept of family than all the rest. Even if he was a curmudgeonly old man who occasionally monologued like a soap opera villain. She wouldn't trade this for anything. This felt real, and that was certainly something.
The engines are active and stable, Soji checked them on her terminal and cleared the other systems...and yet they weren't actually moving. She turned in her chair and found him looking contemplative, staring into the middle distance. She never knew Data or Lore, nor any of the other component parts that made up his personality now. She couldn't begin to guess whether the staring was more Data, or B4, or someone else entirely. She hadn't the faintest which facet of him belonged to whom, but she actually prefers it this way. She'd been on the receiving end of enough tales about how Data had been, how brave, how thoughtful, how smart, how kind, etcetera, that eulogizing him in every conversation had become par for the course. If she'd met him, or any of them, prior to this iteration, she might have started doing that in her head. Without the ability to pick them apart, however, they seemed like a united whole. This was just...Dad. And one day, she might even be brave enough to call him that outside of her own head. But today was not that day. Today he's doing a thing where he stares off and ponders. So she leans forward, into his field of view, and cocks a brow at him. "Do you...want to drive, Old Classic?" Soji asks after a beat. The first half was teasing, but the latter half is much less so. "If not, I can certainly chauffeur you around for a while." Even if she can't pick him apart into his components, he can do it himself. If he needs a minute, well, the one thing they have a lot of is time.