#I went ahead and had him be awake since I feel picard would be too stubborn to get some sleep 'because he had plenty of it when in stasis'

[my-timing-is-digital]

The indecision that wreathed around her like a lethal constrictor, impeded her motivation to aid him, manacled her to the pristine concrete floor as she stood idle in the opening of the door. With the patience and equanimity of a saint, he waited for Soji to recuperate, salvage, and reclaim her tenacity. Data did not impel his daughter to make haste; he was cognisant that she was protecting herself, just as much as him, from the tragedy they might tumble into. The Captain’s existence could have been terminated and she was mentally preparing herself for this probability.

When she glanced over her shoulder to verify he was still trailing behind her — to confirm that he had not been a mere figment of her imagination —, he inclined his head marginally, as if to say I am still here, please, proceed at your own convenience, I will be right behind you, his chartreuse eyes glued to her indefinitely and imbued with — what he hoped approximated — sympathy, compassion. He might not be able to experience agony, apprehension, and anguish, but her creators had not spared her those mental persecutions...

As they descended the staircase, the android discerned the reverberations of his own footfalls on the metal steps, intermingled with hers — an unpremeditated rhythm that marked the first journey in his new life, or rather his first journey in a new corporeal form, a second chance. The congruent architecture and the scarce furniture and decoration he encountered on his way down were salient elements of the average modern dwelling of a decently successful professional.

At the foot of the stairway, an unfamiliar woman, whose soft features were circumscribed by a frame of blonde, wavy hair, her hazel eyes glistening with anticipation. She was apparelled in a bland assortment of clothes, topped with a white lab coat. One of the cyberneticists? Agnes, perhaps? And who was Arcana, another android?

Quietly, Data rendezvoused with Soji and the scientist, at the bottom of the stairs. His pearlescent countenance saturating with curiosity, his optical components analysing the new face and storing the accumulated audible and visual information in his database — for future reference, if he required it. His light eyebrows crawled up, chiselling chasms in his smooth bioplast sheeting when he caught the yet-to-be-identified cyberneticist staring at him — rather conspicuously he might add. At least, that was a phenomenon he was familiar with; at the Academy, his time aboard the Trieste and the Enterprise he had received his fair share of funny, sceptical, and anxious looks — but he had been a novelty back then, surely the perception of humanity had altered after the conception of a colony of androids...

The intermission of silence that ensued Soji’s enquiry was almost tangible as they awaited the scientist’s response.

The Captain had transitioned. He was alive.

When the female scientist intercepted his attention and gestured to Picard’s present whereabouts, the android nodded to acknowledge her instructions.

‘Greetings. You must be Agnes, correct? I am Data,’ he introduced himself extending his hand to shake hers — as was customary among humans.

She nodded timidly and shook his hand; her grip deliberate and the pressure she applied was diligently maintained, as if she were afraid he would disintegrate at the first physical contact he would make with someone other than an android.

‘Yes, that’s me! Dr Agnes P. Jurati!’ she said rapturously. ‘But you may... Uh... You can call — just call me Agnes. Agnes’s fine.’

Agnes was beaming, but Data was uncertain why. It was highly unconventional for people to behave in his presence in the manner that she did.

‘It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Agnes... You referred to Captain Picard as Admiral...’ he trailed off, hoping she would fill in the blanks — Admiral had been the only other detail he extracted from her annotations — the Captain had been promoted.

‘He’s an Admiral now, albeit retired... ish.’

Another frown corrugated his forehead, denoting excess confusion, fortunately, Agnes ushered him down the foyer and into the laboratory that held another relative of Dr Soong’s, as it appeared. It was conceivable that this was the man called Altan, a facsimile of his father — and of himself, should he have aged...

Altan did not initiate a conversation, he merely smiled at him. Perhaps because he did not wish to rouse the Captain from his slumber, or because he was simply rendered speechless — Data knew he would be, and he had been upon crossing paths with Dr Noonian Soong...

Then, his eyes flicked from one end of the spacious laboratory, registering all the contraptions and devices that had, in all likelihood, been utilised to preserve the Captain’s consciousness and facilitate the transfer of his psyche to a synthetic body, to the far side of the room. Instinctively, the servo mechanisms in his neck moved in a sequence of twitches, cocking his head to the right as he analysed the tableau that lay exposed before him. Seated at the elongated, oak dining table, 5.2 metres away from the android’s current location, back turned to the rest of the room, was his...

‘—Captain?’ he whispered softly, his euphonious voice the only sound that seemed to prevail in the silence.

Data carefully approached his former Captain and friend, his footsteps noiseless as he waded through the tranquility that permeated the station. It was difficult to infer whether the Captain had recognised his vocalisation or whether he was still adjusting to his new, synthetic anatomy. Several nerve-wracking seconds elapsed prior to the Captain’s acknowledgement; he rose to his full height, positioned his cup of tea down on the wooden surface of the table with astounding delicacy, and span around.

‘Data.’

The passage of time festooned his familiar visage — the essence had remained preserved underneath —, and had diminished his voice to a raspy, fragile whisper, opposed to the authoritative one he had taken orders from, what now felt like, aeons ago. However, aside from the physical alterations, the Captain was still the same man, and without further ado, the android advanced and, with mathematical precision and assiduity, embraced him.

‘I believe, this is an appropriate procedure to deploy, among humans, is it not, Captain?’

Her explanation, however simplified, overwhelms him and Soji briefly wishes she could take it back. Unfortunately, going back isn't an option. There's something oddly comforting in the way his expression goes inscrutible as he listens, in the silence that stretches before he responds. The fact that Data, despite his impossibly impressive brain can't quite process it all, well, it's awful to think but it makes Soji feel less small and brittle. If it overwhelms him, it makes it hard for her to feel deficient just because it consumed her so thoroughly.

He doesn't have to apologize but he does and, in the same breath suggests something radical, something that hadn't occurred to Soji and, truthfully, probably never would have. Rebuild Dahj? Could they--Soji's mind catches on that but before she can really entertain the possibility, he releases her and moves.

She follows, moving after him unconsciously like she's on a tether. When he abruptly stops and makes his request she's already nodding and moving toward the door. She opens it, ever eager to help, but then the magnitude of what awaits them sets in again. Soji instantly feels like a coward when it does, when she hesitates to step through the door.

She has to lead him, he doesn't know the way. She can't just abandon him to experience this alone--but she's terrified. She's been terrified and looking down the cheerful hall, consumed by fear, is just another facet of her new reality.

She's so scared that Picard will be dead and she will be alone.

Again.

But she isn't alone now.

The realization is jarring and happens in a split second. She glances back at Data, if only to affirm he isn't something she's imagined, and just seeing him there is a huge relief. Soji lets out a sharp breath, steels herself, and crosses the threshold into the hall.

Coppelius Station is beautiful, even tranquil when there is no emergency to disturb the peace. The architecture is a comfortable mix of plate glass, wood, and white walls--the windows let in so much sunlight. Optimism is easy to conjure up in a place like this, but Soji still has trouble feeling anything so positive. Still, she carries forward down the hall, around the corner, and to the main stairs. She strains to listen as they walk, but she can't hear Picard--all she can hear are the distant sounds of kickball, one of the synthetic bluebirds, and Agnes and Alton talking. They're just discussing some nonsense feature of Daystrom's campus and how something like it would look in the plaza--

Wait-- That, of all things, gives Soji a sudden blooming sensation of hope. They wouldn't be having a conversation about a decorative fountain if there was something serious happening? If they were writing eulogies and had to break serious news to everyone? Right?

Soji moves with sudden and renewed energy, her whole posture reverting to something closer to normal, something more alert and alive, as she goes from walking to rushing down the narrow flight of stairs. She's in such a hurry that, when she reaches the landing, she nearly crashes headlong into Agnes. The cyberneticist stumbles back on reflex, clearly startled by Soji's rushing, but Soji catches her by the shoulders before she can move more than a step.

"Woah--! Hey you're looking…uh…terrible actually. Are you--do you need anything? Arcana made cookies--"

Dr. Jurati had been nice, if somewhat awkward around her since they first spoke on La Sirena. Now, as she looks at Soji's tearstained face she wears a polite grimace. That expression only lasts a few seconds, melting away to open shock as Data comes down the stairs after her.

"Oh--" Agnes manages a strangled sound, her attention locked on the resurrected android, and Soji has to lean to break her line of sight. That finally gets her attention and she blinks, awed nearly into a daze, as she refocuses.

"Picard is he--?" Soji asks.

Okay?

Dead?

He isn't standing with them but his body is gone. What did that mean?

"He's uh," Agnes starts and her eyes dart a bit in the middle ground as she searches for the word she wants. Her polite grimace makes a return, but dissolves into an awkward smile as she continues. "I guess sleeping is the closest verb? Not a euphemism though, don't worry. He'll be awake in…."

She glances over her shoulder at Altan who is absolutely not looking at her. With him being no help at all, she returns her gaze to Soji and shrugs a bit.

"Maybe an hour or two, I think? He was slow to imprint, but everything looks nominal. He'll be up and doing crazy old-man stunts by…dinner?" Agnes shot a darting look at Data. "Did you--wait, is that why the computer went down?"

"It what?" Soji asks, horrified.

"Yeah, it's fine," Agnes confirms and waves her hand a little to dismiss Soji's sudden guilty panic. "We weren't using the main, but Seven was. Had to start her compiling over again--it's not important--"

Agnes steps to the side, out of Soji's loose grip, and beams nervously at Data.

"Hi there! If you're looking for the Admiral? He's through there, but not…super talkative yet?" She waves at him quickly and then gestures down the foyer, past the elated Altan Soong, toward the frosted glass double doors.