#and they'd be shit infiltrators if you could just *connect to their wifi* willy nilly

[fractalcloning]

The EMH was, in turns, deeply grateful to be aboard such an ecclectic ship and a bit dismayed by it. His sparkling personality was truly lost on most of the crew, Data inclusive. In truth, he knew Picard on sight--it was rather difficult not to, all things considered--but he nodded along at Data's gushing. (Gushing being relative, of course, but he knew what pride looked like on the especially stoic.)

Normally, Data's assessments of the situation were truly top notch. He was direct, to the point, and didn't waste a single iota of anyone's time dithering about. The Doctor really, truly appreciated that about him, even if his dry witicisms often sailed over their de-facto Captain's head. The scanner completed its work as Data stepped away and retrieved a console but, extraordinarily, the results of the scan conflicted with Data's assessment.

"Hm. That's going to be a challenge," The EMH replied and leaned to one side to engage the halo on the biobed. It closed over the girl and commenced with another scan.

"What? Why?" Picard asked after a beat, his brow already dipping with concern. Had she truly injured herself? Had she crashed terribly-- "Well, the first problem is: she's not an android," the hologram informed them both. "She is," Picard instantly assured him, his surprise evident. "Isn't." "I can assure you--" "I'm sorry," the hologram snapped and glowered, clearly offended at being so blatantly disagreed with. He promptly held out the handscanner and Picard could do little but take it from him. Waspishly the hologram added: "I wasn't aware you'd gotten your MD. Did you pick it up as a retirement hobby? Ambitious of you." "Pardon me?" Picard was finding he didn't care for this EMH. Then again, he'd never really been very fond of any of them. They were efficient and invaluable, but he much preferred human doctors. He cast aside his affront as the Doctor moved around the biobed. Dahj was bathed in the greenish light of the Romulan scanner and they watched in real-time while it did its work. As the computer imaged her, a holographic representation formed above her, slice by slice. As it compiled, the Doctor reached up to the hologram and pulled it apart into vertical layers--each one displayed an organic system in impressive detail.

"As I was saying," the EMH continued as the biobed halo concluded its deep scans. He gestured to the display and looked from Picard to Data. "That's a genuine, red blooded, dyed in the wool, human woman."

"That's not possible," Picard disagreed as he read through the handheld's results, confusion clear on his face. Every reading on the screen disagreed with him, as did every reading on the biobed's display. Romulans might not be the most advanced when it came to medical technology, but there were precious few species with more developed scanning capabilities. "These readings aren't right," Picard tried to explain and the Doctor huffed a sigh. "Are you implying that, on a ship of exclusively synthetic organisms, we just let the scanners break?" the EMH asked, his tone shifted to employ as much patience as he was capable of. He was cantankerous, certainly, but even he could muster some traditional professionalism when necessary. "Your assessment is erroneous," Data interjected and that, at least, seemed to have some weight. The Doctor gave him a curious but longsuffering look and interacted with the holographic representation of Dahj again.

"Shocking, I know," he began. "but she hasn't got anything that would indicate she's an android--she has no identifiable implants of any kind, no nanoprobes, no ports, no power supply, she's pristine. She hasn't so much as broken a bone in her life. She's hale and whole--except for some surface dermal abbrasion and a cut beneath her hairline, neither of which are mortal concerns." "I don't understand," Picard admitted, absolutely baffled, and set the handheld aside on the bed. "I've seen this girl leap ten meters, watched her disarm and disable ten Zhat Vash assassins. She can move faster than I can see--?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Maybe she does taekwondo?" The EMH stepped back and made space for Picard to circle the bed. He did, as the space opened, and immediately began tabbing through the biobed halo. Every reading was normal, even nominal--the technology couldn't be faulty, and there was no way a Romulan military grade scanner was simply wrong, so how was she doing it? Picard looked to Data as though he might have an answer.

"Could she be giving off false readings? A falsifying RFID, perhaps to allow her to appear human on scans? Is that possible?" Picard asked and, despite not being the one to whom the question was addressed, the Doctor answered.

"There's a good, old-fashioned test for that, as well," the EMH said and retrieved a hypo from a nearby rack. The tool had a fine layer of dust that he shook off as he returned to the bedside. Then, as casual as you please, he pressed it up against the line of Dahj's neck, just along her juggular. The tool hissed and the vial filled with blood, or a liquid functionally indistinguishable from it. Picard stared, flummoxed, and a creeping doubt tried to gain foothold in his mind. He quashed it--Dahj was clearly synthetic. It was simply a question of how. "If you want a second opinion, I'm sure Soteria or a dozen of the AI floating around the computer would be happy to analyze this sample," the Doctor said once the vial was half-full. He pulled it away from Dahj's neck and ejected the vial from the device. Picard watched it but, even without a scanner, he recognized it--the viscocity, the film it left, the way it moved in the container, it was blood.

"Remarkable," Picard muttered and glanced at Data's console, across the bed from him. "Can you connect to her?" Surely on a ship with so many synthetic beings of such different makes and models--

"While I'm happy to entertain this hypothetical," the EMH interrupted again, this time with some concern. He had intended to go place the sample in the scanner but the shift of conversation stopped him mid-step. "I should point out that she has nothing even remotely like an access panel. I'm all for testing, but I must put my foot down before someone suggests surgical intervention." "What? Of course not!" Picard replied, aghast and the EMH was taken aback by the force of his refusal. Despite the sharpness in Picard's tone, the EMH seemed to wholeheartedly approve of the iron-clad rebuke. "I am, however, quite satisfied with your "assistance." If you don't intend to to be helpful, kindly remain quiet." The EMH's brows rose approvingly. He looked Picard over briefly and clucked his tongue again. His estimation of Picard seemed higher for being yelled at, as absurd as that was. "Now, now, Helpful is my middle name," the EMH countered but this time, with considerably more politesse. He looked to Data, his argumentative streak set aside, and searched for confirmation. "You're both positive, then, that she's somehow synthetic?" "We are," Picard confirmed with as much firmness and authority as he had available. The Doctor folded his arms and tapped the sample vial idly against his opposing forearm. He was (blessedly) silent for a span, his expression thoughtful. He was still in a way that spoke volumes about the sheer amount of information he was parsing through. Picard might not have liked EMHs, but he couldn't deny that they were a formidable database. "If I was an android…and was hellbent on passing as a human," the Doctor muttered and his head bobbed just slightly back and forth. It was a human mannerism he'd clearly adopted and it was uncannily convincing. "Hmm….Ah! I've got it." "You do?" "Well, no, not exactly, but I think there are a few arcane techniques we could employ here that will confirm your impossible hypothesis," the EMH replied and glanced up at the ceiling. "Soteria, my dear, I don't suppose we have the materials on hand for a magnetic resonance scanner?" Before the computer could answer the Doctor huffed. "Of course we don't--we might as well keep an iron maiden onboard, we'd get just as much use out of it. How about…heavy electromagnetic dampening? Hm? I don't suppose we're equipped for that but, given how Romulans feel about technology, if any ship would have something--" "Will that harm her?" "Hm?" The hologram seemed surprised by the question. "No, it's harmless to humans--ah, right. Fair point." Unfortunately, after ceding that, his frown deepened. After a moment, he looked to Data and, somewhat apologetically, admitted: "This may exceed the limits of my vast medical library. Unless they've suddenly repealed the Shenzhen Conventions and the Geneva Protocols, I have no idea how you would hide an android inside a human." He sighed. "We may require a specialist."

If there was someone he confided in unconditionally, it would be Picard; he had supported him where others had questioned his autonomy, he had defended him where others had objected to the validity of his capabilities, he had demanded reverence and equality where others had patronised and degraded him. And, as his superior, Data had seldom, if ever, challenged Picard's decisions, his intuition, his years of experience, and therefore, the claim that he was convinced that Dahj was the android's daughter, which had yet to be confirmed by empirical data, somehow made sense to him — he trusted him. Besides, he saw no logic in someone creating an android that was the facsimile of his painting titled "Daughter", but subsequently not relating her to him. He could only hope the test would pop up positive, because regardless of his good intentions, zeal and determination, he could not replicate an other Soong-type android, despite being one himself. He could repair others and fashion substitute components, but constructing a live specimen from scratch seemed to be beyond his comprehension, his abilities. Perhaps he required the one thing he had never fully mastered: humanity and all its nuances that were, and always would be, lost to him. He supposed it would be a consolation to humanoids to know that despite their independence, AI still relied on human expertise and inventiveness, impulsiveness to build stable and sentient androids — at least, for now...

With this newly harvested information, Data focused on Dahj again and without engaging in supplemental ambivalences regarding her origin, scooped her up in his arms, carrying her like a father would his child who had claimed they could stay up late but practice proved the contrary.

'This way, sir,' Data said, having risen to his full height and exited the transporter room with Picard in his wake.

The infirmary was vacant, as could be expected on a ship where androids and digital AI constituted the ship's complement. Fortunately, the lack of organic patients did not render the EMH less accommodating — cranky, for sure, but he was still as helpful as he had been during his time serving aboard Voyager.

The scathing remark the EMH spat at Picard caused Data to make an oh-dear,-here-we go-again face, but discontinued the expression when the holographic doctor diverted his attention to him. Although Data respected the sentient and emotional capable computer simulated physician, his sarcasm and acerbity was still situated far beyond the boundaries of Data's comprehension and made it a challenge to communicate with him; data always struggled to navigate his way through their conversations when the Doctor embarked on one of his infamous caustic rampages — Lore, on the other hand... Fortunately, the EMH's proficiency and expertise in his field and the general knowledge he had accumulated during his time on Voyager had aided them on multiple occasions.

'I was not planning to turn the retrieval of organics into a recurring behavioural pattern,' the android assured him as he carefully unloaded his arms. 'But this is my former Captain: Captain Jean-Luc Picard,' he added with a tinge of sincere veneration, of esteem, audible in his voice and visible in the way he glanced up at Picard. 'And as for your patient, she is... an android. We should run a diagnostic on her systems to determine whether she is malfunctioning — it appeared that an emotional overload destroyed her synthetic epidermal layer. And in addition, I will run a program of my own to establish whether we are related or not.'

Data temporarily abandoned the Romulan biobed to produce the equipment necessary to conduct his examination and engaged the console — Soteria's code flashed, unobtrusively, on the terminal screen, reporting for duty, should he require her assistance.