Chapter Text
Worf fiddles with the controls on the console, punching buttons more roughly than necessary until it starts beeping angrily at him. He growls in frustration before fixing the problem. Data, who is crouched under a nearby console, pauses in his work to look up at Worf intently.
“You keep expelling breath, and the muscles in your jaw appear tense. You also have growled under your breath several times. This indicates to me that something has upset you. Would you like to talk about it?”
Worf looks down at Data, who now stands up and watches Worf’s reaction carefully. Worf prides himself on his restraint, but he wouldn’t be a Klingon if he didn’t growl under his breath occasionally. What surprises him is that Data perceives that a deeper matter is bothering him than the technical problems with his ship. It shouldn’t though, and Worf didn’t quite realize how much he missed Data’s quiet, steady presence on Deep Space Nine until now.
However, instead of expounding on this aloud, Worf simply says, “I am fine.”
Data nods, succinct. He starts to turn back to work on his console, but stops and turns back to face Worf.
“I would like to remind you that I consider you a friend and would not hesitate to confide in you were I facing any troubles I wished to discuss. Something appears to be distracting you from your work. If it would not help to discuss it outloud, I suggest we take a break and attempt this project later.”
“It is nothing,” Worf says, an automatic reaction. Worf’s defenses and irritation had raised at the possibility that Data would continue probing until he talked (Deep Space Nine is a station of meddling busybodies, and Worf has yet to truly get used to this), but the very fact that Data gives him the space to do what is best for himself without expectation lets him relax enough to want to talk. Perhaps it would help to get advice. “You have heard of the... people from the… institution visiting the station?”
Data nods. “I had the good fortune to assist them in their endeavors earlier this afternoon. It was a highly enjoyable experience, although I admit I could not always predict the proper way to react to their social behavior. They did not seem to mind however.”
Worf considers this and hesitates before continuing. “What was your assessment of them? In a professional capacity. Were they… useful? At the work you helped them with? Did you not find them… odd?”
“I myself have been told I am odd, so in that respect we are received similarly by our co-workers.” Data tilts his head, thoughtful. “Professionally, our particular talents complement each other. While I am faster at calculation and computation, they are better able to leap past the immediate logical evidence to creative solutions and emergent conclusions. I would say that neither of us is more or less useful than the other, simply different.”
Worf nods, twists his mouth, then breaks eye contact with Data. “Earlier today, the senior officers met to discuss their integration into society. I did not wish to offend, but I believe I upset Dr. Bashir with my opinions.” He looks back up at Data, who nods, listening and impassive. “I said that if they were able to compete freely with non-enhanced people, this would pressure other parents to risk breaking the law banning such DNA tampering in order for their kids to keep up.”
“A logical conclusion based on a discrete set of premises.” Data frowns. “Would this not also ban Dr. Bashir from his occupation?”
“I noted that he could be an exception, but this only seemed to upset him further.” Worf scowls, restraining a growl, and instead gestures violently. “I understand this better than most! I was the first Klingon in Starfleet. I have been considered an exception throughout my life. I have worked hard to practice restraint among humans, so that I do not--”
Worf’s voice raises in volume as he speaks, his eyes flashing and hands waving. When he realizes this he cuts himself off, practicing breathing exercises to maintain control. Data stands placidly watching him, unphased by the outburst.
“I believe I may understand why you drew this conclusion, even if I do not understand what it feels like to be upset. As the only android in Starfleet, while people may accept me as an individual, as you know many have expressed disapproval with allowing more lifeforms like me even to exist.”
Worf, now calmer, is grateful for this olive branch extended to him. It occurs to Worf, belatedly, that of all people aboard the station, Data would understand his position more than expected; Data is also an “exception” to many people. Worf continues by saying, quietly this time, “I have greater strength than humans, and I am proud to be Klingon… but my greater abilities-- and the responsibility on me this imposes to also practice restraint-- does not encourage parents to create unnatural children.”
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Data tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed, considering. “The danger to the children’s health involved in this scenario, as well as the lack of agency of the children to choose their own path, would be a troublesome outcome. However, while like the genetically enhanced individuals I did not play an initial role in my programming, I am a synthetic lifeform--” Data places his hand on his chest, where a heart would be on anyone else, and if Worf didn’t know better he would think he hit a nerve. “My creator built me to be stronger and faster than humans, while retaining their capacity for gentleness and acceptance. Would you consider me unnatural?”
Data looks directly into Worf’s eyes with this last statement, intense, and something about those electric yellow eyes hints at passion, but that may be wishful thinking on Worf’s part. Worf has the sudden desire to wrestle Data to the ground, to engage him in a glorious romantic battle, but this is only a fleeting, inappropriate daydream before Worf turns his attention back to the more serious matter at hand.
“I… it does not matter what I think. I regret using that word,” Worf says, abashed. “You are of course a valid lifeform just as the augments are.” While Data may not get angry or take offense, it is a matter of honor to Worf to apologize for intruding on a subject he knows is important to Data.
“Of course. Thank you.” Data nods in acknowledgement, and Worf feels a relief he didn’t know he was holding out for.
“You and I, however, adapt to our surroundings.” Worf knows he should probably drop this while he’s ahead, but the drive for Data to understand him wins out. “I am trained in diplomatic solutions to resolve conflict with weaker individuals when physical combat would be unfair or could be avoided. It would not be honorable to impose Klingon values on those who are not Klingon. I make the effort to fit in and practice restraint, to make humans comfortable in my presence; the visiting augments do not even try --” Worf’s voice becomes heated at this last phrase, so he takes a deep breath before continuing. “--and Dr. Bashir’s position is that they should not have to.”
“I as well have spent my life attempting to learn what it means to be human and to work among them. However, one conclusion I have come to is that there are infinite ways to be human, and none are automatically invalid. For us, adaptation and restraint suit our purposes, but for Jack and the other augments this may not be possible or even desired. We are all on our own journeys in life.”
“Perhaps so,” Worf says. The admission hangs in the air, and Worf says, with a reluctant huff, “I will attempt to apologize to Dr. Bashir tomorrow.”
“I would like you to know that you do not have to restrain yourself with me if you do not wish to,” Data says, straightforward and sincere as always.
Worf is not quite sure where this admission is coming from, and he stares at Data for several moments, as several possible implications flit through his mind. Data’s strength matches or exceeds his own; Worf could likely not harm him if he tried. This opens up a world of… perhaps less-than honorable applications that Worf had never truly considered. He shakes his head to rid himself of such romantic notions. There are any number of more innocent, platonic applications “lack of restraint” could assist with that Data was surely referring to instead.
“I will keep that in mind.” Worf and Data exchange professional nods, Data watching him carefully the whole time. Worf glances at the console, ready to continue working now that Data has given him the space to vent his frustrations, but pauses to say, “You should join me in the holosuite this evening for sparring. I can inform you in the ways of Klingon weaponry.”
“I would like that,” Data says. Worf grunts in acknowledgement and turns his attention to the console at last, pressing buttons for the diagnostic. It is likely wishful on his part to read more into the smile Data gives him at the confirmation of future plans together, to read anything more than friendly interest in the way Data watched his face so attentively while Worf was speaking, but nonetheless Worf finds his heart lighter looking forward to their (unfortunately) platonic get-together tonight.