(Untitled)

[ol_yellow_eyes]

Data is in the bar with his cat today, occupying one of the booths. Spot is standing on the table with his face in a bowl of (apparently delicious) cat food, next to which is a datapad that his owner is currently studying

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[hallelujahpilot]

He presents an odd juxtaposition - data-pad (which speaks of her time, she thinks), uniform, and cat.

For the moment, Trudy (flightsuit, her own data-pad, boots up on the table) just watches him, frowning slightly and trying to place the uniform.

[ol_yellow_eyes]

Spot notices the woman first, and stares at her so suspiciously that Data glances over to determine what might be the object of the cat's attention. He is rather surprised to discover that he is being watched.

"Hello," he greets politely.

[hallelujahpilot]

Entertained, "Hello. Have I offended your cat?"

She hopes not. He's a beautiful thing, and her fingers are itching to pat him.

[ol_yellow_eyes]

Data looks down at Spot, studying the cat's expression carefully.

"It is difficult to say," he answers finally. "But I cannot think of anything you would have done to offend him."

He thinks for a moment. "I believe that Spot is simply suspicious of most biological life forms."

[hallelujahpilot]

She laughs at that, the sound soft and snickery. "It might be a cat thing."

[ol_yellow_eyes]

"Perhaps." Data nods, petting his cat again. Spot squints. He looks vaguely like he is just humoring his owner at this point.

Data turns back to the woman. "May I ask what your name is?"

[hallelujahpilot]

"Chief Warrant Officer Gertrude Chacon."

Beat.

"Chacon or Trudy will do. You?"

[ol_yellow_eyes]

"Lieutenant Commander Data," he answers. "It is nice to meet you.

"In what institution do you serve?" he asks.

[hallelujahpilot]

Dammit, why does everyone outrank me except for Shephard?

Slightly unsure, she stays seated, but swings her boots off the table and salutes him from her chair.

"Resources Development Administration, as a SecOps Marine pilot. I...don't recognize your insignia, sir."

[ol_yellow_eyes]

Data nods in appreciation of the salute. He would not have blamed her for neglecting the formality, but it leaves a good impression.

"I am a member of Starfleet, of the United Federation of Planets," Data explains. "I doubt that you have heard of it. The Marines no longer exist in my time."

[hallelujahpilot]

"I...don't think I heard you correctly, sir?"

[ol_yellow_eyes]

Data blinks a few times. He is not certain to which part she is referring. That was quite a long pause, he notes silently.

He attempts to explain. "I am from the year 2369. The United States no longer exists, and thus the United States Marine Corps was dissolved as well. Earth is united under one government, of which the representative diplomatic and military organization is Starfleet."

The unemotional tone with which he explains is not meant to sound condescending, but it may come off as such...

[hallelujahpilot]

"Son of a bitch."

[ol_yellow_eyes]

Data's rhythmic-until-this-moment petting of his cat stops abruptly.

"I beg your pardon?"

[hallelujahpilot]

"My country doesn't exist.

Sir."

[ol_yellow_eyes]

Data thinks for a moment. "And that is... distressing to you?"

He does not understand exactly why that would be the case. But her reaction seemed to indicate some sort of strong, negative emotion.

(He may never understand human emotional responses.)