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Strictly speaking, Ten Forward wasn’t the best place to hide. Bars never were. If Tom had really wanted to be out of sight, he would have spent the evening in his quarters, but then Deanna would have told him he was being reclusive again and not helping his progress. So he’d positioned himself strategically with his back to the door, in the booth furthest into the corner, bent pensively over a syntheholic beer and a chocolate sundae ( Deanna’s favourite, he thought sadly).
Tom had his fingers crossed that nobody would disturb him. He was supposed to be leaving for the Gandhi in a few days, and he knew that he would be alone. He wanted to drown his feelings in fake beer and chocolate, so sue him. He really was a fool for thinking that nothing would have changed in eight years…
“Lieutenant.” The brusque voice of the ship’s synthetic second officer took him by surprise, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “You appear to be unoccupied. May I speak with you?”
Pretending that he hadn’t just almost choked on his drink, Tom waved a hand to the seat across from him. “Be my guest,” he managed. “What’s on your mind, sir?”
Data slid into the seat with mechanical smoothness. Tom didn’t think he’d ever get used to interacting with a living computer, especially after having only non-sentient machines as his company for so long. Then again—maybe that was the reason he appreciated Data’s blunt attitude so much. On the whole, it was a lot of mixed feelings that he experienced whenever he interacted with him. So, naturally, he tried to avoid interacting with him as much as possible.
“I have discovered in my study of humanity that many humans desire empathy when they are dealing with a difficult situation,” said the android. “In short, you wish to know that you are not the only person to deal with this problem.”
Tom let out a sigh. “And now you’re going to tell me that somebody else on this ship was cloned without their knowledge and left to rot for eight years while said clone took over their life? Because I highly doubt it.” His eyes flickered over Data’s yellow irides and he added, “…sir.”
“I do not have an exact match for your experiences,” Data admitted, “but in my first year on the Enterprise, it was discovered that I was not the first Soong-type android ever built. My twin, Lore, is just like me, but better. He has the emotions that I never will.”
“Oh.” For lack of anything else to say, Tom took a sip of his drink. Then he put it down, and ventured, “So you, uh, also feel second-best…?”
Data considered for a moment, his head cocked sideways in a contemplative—calculating—look. “My father assured me that I was not less perfect than Lore,” he replied evenly. “Lore is unstable. His emotions have overwhelmed him. And yet… he is the more human of us.” He paused briefly, then added, “If I was able to feel jealousy, I believe I might. I have always wanted to be human.”
Tom had no response.
Data continued, “I was also left behind on Omicron Theta, the planet where I was created, when it was attacked by the Crystalline Entity. I do not know why. After meeting Doctor Soong, I doubted that he would ever voluntarily abandon me—but he was killed before I had a chance to ask. I spent two years deactivated and alone before I was discovered by a Starfleet vessel.” He steepled his hands on the table. “It is not a perfect comparison, and as I have no emotions I find it difficult to understand how you are feeling, but I hope this knowledge may bring you some comfort.”
“It helps.” Tom’s throat was still feeling oddly constricted. “It… it does, Commander. I’m… sorry.”
Data tilted his head quizzically. “For what are you apologising? You have done nothing to me. Or are you expressing your sympathy for my experiences?”
“Sympathy,” Tom clarified. “Your twin… well, at least Will and I are still fairly similar. He’s only got a better career record than I do.”
“Yes.” Data nodded. “You are fortunate that Commander Riker has not responded to your existence with violence.”
Tom choked again. “You—Lore tried to hurt you?”
“When we first met, he deactivated me and attempted to destroy the Enterprise,” Data said matter-of-factly. “During our second meeting, he deactivated me again, stole the emotion chip that our father had designed for me, and killed him.”
Tom pushed away his beer. It was becoming less and less appetising. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath. “And… you’re not upset? At all?”
“I do not have the capacity to—”
“—feel upset, yeah, I’m sorry.” Tom nodded to his chocolate sundae. “You want to try some of this?”
Data looked at it thoughtfully. “I am not able to taste the way that you can, but as I believe you are trying to diffuse the situation, I would be happy to share your dessert.”
Tom handed him the spoon. “I just…” He hesitated. “I thought I had a life, you know? And it just… continued without me. I thought I’d have a funeral, and that after eight years everybody would be glad to see me… but nobody even noticed that I was gone.”
“You feel displaced,” Data identified.
“Like a man out of time,” Tom agreed. “I just want to be able to pick up my life where it left off, and I guess the Gandhi is a step in the right direction, but…” He glanced around at the wide-open room of Ten Forward.
Data nodded. “You would rather be William Riker. Not Thomas Riker, the twin that fell behind.”
“Yeah.” Tom sighed, deflating. “That.” He scratched at the edge of the table with his nail, where a bit of paint was chipping away. “I was never good enough for my father, you know. And now I’m second-best to a perfect clone, who’s first officer of the Federation flagship, too.” He shook his head. “I wanted to make captain by thirty-five.”
“Have you considered changing careers?” Data asked. “There are many other options that you may be able to pursue now that you could not before. And it would set you apart from Commander Riker, as well.”
“I’ve… thought about it. I don’t know. Starfleet’s all I’ve ever wanted, but after eight years on Nervala IV… I have to admit it’s lost a bit of its charm,” Tom mused. “Will can be the captain. Maybe I’ll… I dunno, see if the Ferengi need any starship pilots.” He snorted.
Data didn’t seem amused. “I am sure you would be able to find a fulfilling role outside of Starfleet,” he said. “Many people do.”
“Hah. Yeah.” Tom shook his head. “I’ll take my post on the Gandhi and see if anything else comes up. I’m still a Starfleet officer, for what it’s worth, now; I’ll do my job, don’t you worry.”
“I have no doubts about that.” Tom expected Data to comment on Will’s character and how it attested to his own, but instead, he said, “You have already proven yourself to be a model officer. Whatever path you take will be well-earned.”
Tom was slightly taken aback. “Well, thank you, Mr Data,” he replied. “I… I hope it is.”
Data gave him a curt nod, then stood and left Tom alone with his thoughts.