Data heard the voice, his expression growing curious as he walked further into the darkness. "Are you in need of assistance?" he responded back.
The voice was a familiar one. He'd long since managed use of B-4s vocal cords, learned to whistle even. He was doing quite well in this new body- A body that had belonged to his brother.
He followed the telltale trail of light, turning a corner until he happened across... A human in beige? He drew his tricorder, only able to scan the immediate area in front of him, checking for any hints of disease in individual. He did react to what he saw on the screen, but recognition was nowhere within that reaction.
Though perhaps not the self-same individual he'd encountered in the village. The voice and appearance were familiar; the patterning in the android's shifted timestream was not. Other circumstances held sway here, choices made and not made, paths abandoned and paths taken. The Doctor reflected no physical recognition other than a slight raising of his eyebrows.
He stepped towards that other beam of light, eager to show that he intended no malice.
"Always, if you take my traveling companion's word. But what brings a Starfleet captain down a quarantined mine shaft with no away team?" A pause. "And no containment suit?"
"I am not just any captain," he said with a hint of legitimate Soong ego, giving the Doctor a glanceover. "And I might ask the same question of a... whatever it is that you might be."
He put the tricorder away slowly, circling the man and examining him, and noting absolutely no symptoms of the disease. Nothing in the scans to accompany that oddly structured brain and binary pulmonary system. A brief suspicion entered his mind that this might be some sort of Romulan genetic adept. An altered individual left to plant the disease.
But he wasn't threatening him. Not in the least.
He was handsome though. He'd developed along the lines enough now he could see obvious aesthetic appeal in the man's appearance. And his strange, far out of period clothing. Why would he be wearing that here? "Why aren't you on the surface in the shelters?"
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The voice was a familiar one. He'd long since managed use of B-4s vocal cords, learned to whistle even. He was doing quite well in this new body- A body that had belonged to his brother.
He followed the telltale trail of light, turning a corner until he happened across... A human in beige? He drew his tricorder, only able to scan the immediate area in front of him, checking for any hints of disease in individual. He did react to what he saw on the screen, but recognition was nowhere within that reaction.
Reply
Though perhaps not the self-same individual he'd encountered in the village. The voice and appearance were familiar; the patterning in the android's shifted timestream was not. Other circumstances held sway here, choices made and not made, paths abandoned and paths taken. The Doctor reflected no physical recognition other than a slight raising of his eyebrows.
He stepped towards that other beam of light, eager to show that he intended no malice.
"Always, if you take my traveling companion's word. But what brings a Starfleet captain down a quarantined mine shaft with no away team?" A pause. "And no containment suit?"
Reply
He put the tricorder away slowly, circling the man and examining him, and noting absolutely no symptoms of the disease. Nothing in the scans to accompany that oddly structured brain and binary pulmonary system. A brief suspicion entered his mind that this might be some sort of Romulan genetic adept. An altered individual left to plant the disease.
But he wasn't threatening him. Not in the least.
He was handsome though. He'd developed along the lines enough now he could see obvious aesthetic appeal in the man's appearance. And his strange, far out of period clothing. Why would he be wearing that here? "Why aren't you on the surface in the shelters?"
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