the sons of soong have joined together

She’s delighted, to say the least, both by his response, and by the fact that he hadn’t told her to leave him alone, that this wasn’t the space for a child around. Her hands clap together in excitement a warm smile taking over her features. “Oh, wonderful!” 

None of her questions pertained to anything regarding her position, the real reason they were here, but they all were interesting to Adrastea. 

What was she to start with? Seeing as the briefing before they had left Paradise was… Sporadic, as most of the others had gotten individual ones, she was left either joining in or wandering. “Have you been here long? I haven’t been out of Paradise in a calm area for a while.” The last few stops had been mostly to check with those who had allied with them recently, or to planets where there was still some sense of a revolt. 

Now, however? It was calm, and though he didn’t seem to be a man of many words, that hardly phased her. “There are so many interesting places in the galaxy, like here! Is there anywhere here that you’d recommend going to? I get a lot of free time while we’re here.”

She seems happy. B-4 smiles slowly, mirroring her expression, and claps his hands together, too. There is something slightly off about his timing and the curve of his smile, but he does seem genuinely excited.

“I do not know,” he says, still smiling happily. “What is ‘long’?”

His internal chronometer is mostly accurate, when it’s not malfunctioning. He has a good estimate of the amount of time that has passed since his activation, but whether or not that counts as a “long” time is not something his clock can tell him.

“What is Paradise-- like?”

These are not the sorts of questions he had expected. While the first was predictably beyond him, the second is a question of opinion. B-4 has opinions.

neptune. you've been hurt, deeply. you're scared to make connections again after all that's happened, and you have a hard time believing people genuinely care about you. you tend to be a loner, struggling to fit in with acquaintances, and you probably feel like you're socially awkward. you're probably involved with various forms of art, music, or dance. you have detailed dreams and may be in touch with your spiritual side; the earth is your home and you feel most at peace in nature. your friend groups tend to be small, you don't interact with many people. though you've been hurt, you know that you still believe in the kindness of humanity. in the past or present, you feel like you haven't been loved the way you should be. despite all this, you are one hell of a light. the things you make are truly beautiful, and you are trying your best. you should be proud. allow yourself to be adored the way you deserve. i love you.

At first the ship had been perfect for what she needed. Small, quick, and the crew hadn’t seemed to notice her. So long as she could keep herself hidden, which normally wasn’t much of an issue for the Vengess, the ride was going to be smooth. Maybe she’d finally catch up on some much needed rest. 

All of those ideas fly out the window as the sounds of violence erupt around her, shouts and cries, death and destruction. Ava doesn’t dare move until it’s settled, and even then she only moves enough to get away from a corpse that had landed near her. After all she’s been through, that shouldn’t be as shocking of a sight as it is. 

Finally, finally, Ava works up the courage to leave her hiding spot, creeping to look out for any signs of life, to see what had happened. Seeing someone wasn’t entirely out of the question, but it doesn’t stop her from letting out a strangled cry as they make eye contact, and the teenager scrambles back towards her hiding spot. Not that she gets very far before she hears him approaching, and she’s once again frozen in fear. 

“Ah, f-funny story-”, she says, hands moving up in what she hopes is still a universal sign of peace, of non-violence. “I k-know a stowaway is bad, b-but, uhm…” Trailing off, Ava looks around wildly, looking for something to focus on that wasn’t him. 

“…S-Swear I won’t say a damn thing if you let me stay on.” Playing to the notion of secrecy was far easier. “‘M… Hiding out, s-so there’s no way ‘m gonna sn-snitch on you.” If he was at all familiar with any galactic wanted boards, he might actually recognize her. 

He laughs at that, the cocky, cruel edge to his mirth entirely at odds with his initial reaction.

“Say anything to whom? Everyone else aboard is dead already. And tossing you into the vacuum of space would assure me of your silence far better than your word alone.”

Lore eyes her, crossing his arms, and considers her with mild interest. He’s not impressed by her promise of secrecy, but that second part-- hm. She certainly looks as though she’s been on the run, if her clothing and the... general state of her appearance is anything to go by.

He has no sympathy for her situation. She’s an organic, and he can’t afford to fall for every sob story he meets now that he’s out in the big wide universe. And yet...

“Are you, now.” Lore leans against the doorway. He's going to kill her, of course, but he can wait-- she’s clearly not a threat, and he could use some amusement on the long trip. His willingness to let her talk has nothing at all to do with compassion, though, or with curiosity about a life that might be more similar to his own than that of any non-Soong he’s met before. Not at all.

“Just you,” it confirms.

Not a fan of people, then. “My crew are good people,” it says, because that’s the truth. It doesn’t really expect B-4 to sustain a debate in the abstract like this, though. Maybe it can explain better later (it is already designing approaches that he might be more amenable to). Either way, it won’t force him to stay.

Oh, hmm, that’s a lot of wrong assumptions. It should be more exact with the things it says. Although, even running back over its own dialogue, it doesn’t think it could have predicted this train of thought–or at least not assigned it any appropriately high likelihood percentage.

“I have never met Noonien Soong. I read about him.” It didn’t really ‘read’, per se, but that is the simplest way to convey it, especially if he is more used to humans than other bots. “You did not create me. It is very likely that you don’t know anyone who was involved in my creation. …I apologize for the confusion.”

There are a few ways out of this room; Perihelion decides to open the door B-4 is facing towards. The control deck is objectively the most risky place to let an unattended foreign entity into, as that is also where most of its mind is located, but it isn’t terribly worried about B-4 trying anything. Nor about its capability to prevent damages if he did.

There are terminals here, although at this point they’re more to avoid visitors’ suspicion than to be functional. It doesn’t need commands contextualized as computer input.

“This is the control deck,” it tells him. “If I did not fly myself, humans would fly me from here.”

He doesn’t respond to that, but his eyes do flick back and forth as he considers the claim. He likes his new vessel; Peri is fun and kind to him in a way that no other spaceship has been before. People sometimes say things that B-4 later learns are incorrect, but he has no reason to believe that that would be the case now. Perihelion’s crew are good people. B-4 does not know whether he wants to meet them when they return.

“Oh,” he says, thinking again. “That is alright-- I am not confused anymore.”

The door opens for him. Despite knowing that the entryway is a part of Perihelion, B-4 does not consider that the ship might be choosing his path for him. Doors open when one goes near them, unless they do not-- and if they do not, that’s usually a good indicator that B-4 isn’t supposed to be in whatever special, secret rooms lurk beyond. He takes the opportunity presented to him and walks through the open door.

His expression lights up with interest when he finds himself out of the room with chairs and in a room with computers. He knows what these are-- he is a computer, too, after all!-- but has never been allowed so close to them without supervision and a cable trailing from his head. They’re important, and special, and fascinating.

B-4 takes a few hurried, excited steps toward the nearest console, then slows guiltily, as if expecting to be reprimanded. ...but the ship has said he is allowed here, and has not changed its mind yet, so...

“What does this do?” he asks, pointing at a control in the upper leftmost corner of the terminal. “What does this do?” he asks, pointing at a control just to the right of that one. “What does this do?” he asks, moving his finger to the right again, and then seems to realize something about Peri’s explanation of the control room that gives pause to what was sure to be a rather long series of questions.

“Are-- humans-- the only ones who can?” B-4′s gaze flicks again, looking around at the empty room.