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Not Data, he reasoned, and definitely not Worf -- not Riker. Tempting to simply have Data tear apart the code and tell him who sent it. Your chest, your thighs, your sensitive and soft parts that hide under the uniform every day all day that no one ever sees. That wasn't what he would have expected from Beverly.
Well -- perhaps he'd intentionally written the code not to allow for that. They expect us to be tough when that's what is needed. Do you know what it's like to think you find what you need and lose it? He supposed that it might be, still, because she too would be attempting to hide behind different diction. He found himself actually responding to it, thinking about the things said, memories of love lost and opportunities he had spurned in the name of career. And there are those, of course, who find the things they are searching for. Hardly a safe place for that, but they do it, and sometimes that becomes the regret. Unfortunately, it can also leave us dead to possibilities that can lead to feeling more alive than we've ever been.
She was busy, he knew -- she'd met with him yesterday, to turn over completed performance reviews for the quarter. ""There have been a few times over the past few days that I've sensed frustration from you. Most of those involved in the survey are busy but calm. well, it's been interesting, since Data's algorithm started to circulate.""Good god," he exclaimed, frustrated.
Or perhaps she was reflecting his own feelings back at him. Did you tell them you didn't want to participate, then? "Whoever it is does not give up easily.""Have you figured out who it is yet? "Because it's what you always do, solve the mystery.
"He stopped in the middle of the room, turned around to look at her -- she'd followed him in just far enough that the door would close behind her. I would suspect it presents you with quite the temptation, some intrigue for you to research and untangle the enigma of who an algorithm would match you with. I did ask Data about how he programmed it -- what I could understand of his explanation told me that he is using the recorder data to inform the algorithm. I didn't think to ask about specifics like that.""Recorder data? The recorders in the critical areas of the ship -- engineering, the bridge, the battle bridge, all the hubs of the departments -- where the decisions were made and the action tended to be, fed that information into protected storage to be accessed only when needed, in the course of court-martials or investigations, and only by specific personnel."It's not data revealed to the people using the program.
The problem would be finding out she's an ensign, or someone you've never met before.""You think the algorithm doesn't take rank into account? The algorithm is based in his own subroutines, that he uses to attempt to understand others.
And Will, who was in his seat looking intently at a padd, was working far too hard not to grin about something. Rolled his eyes."Report, Number One," Picard said, taking his seat."We're on course, continuing at warp four, on time to rendezvous with the as scheduled." And there came the grin. Data has completed a project."Picard debated whether he wanted to know or not.
He decided not -- glanced down at the small monitor on the arm of his chair, and then at the main viewscreen."I have completed an algorithm that will assist any member of the crew in identifying the person aboard the who is the most compatible with them," Data filled in helpfully. And you know, Wesley's been seeing Darcy Mc Cullough for five weeks now and -- ""Dismissed, Commander."Will smirked, and left the ready room.