"Yeah, and everybody here's from somewhere else, and they're all capitalists who use bullets," is flippant. Because jEEZE, GUYS. Jim pushes away from the ceiling and floats over towards the panel after Data, flipping himself upright with a touch to the bulkhead wall.
"As much as anyone can be." He takes a bite of his sandwich and negotiates with a floating chair before hooking a foot beneath the (thankfully fixed to the floor) lip of a table and 'sitting' on it, one leg tucked beneath it to keep him in place. "Mm-- it sort of reminds me of late 22nd century tech as far as the interface goes, but whatever it uses to identify users half the time has so far eluded me. Techopaths haven't been able to talk to it, and I don't have any telepaths handy to look at it that way."
Where's Spock when he needs him. Asleep, the jerk. So, like: "Are you an android, by the way?"
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"As much as anyone can be." He takes a bite of his sandwich and negotiates with a floating chair before hooking a foot beneath the (thankfully fixed to the floor) lip of a table and 'sitting' on it, one leg tucked beneath it to keep him in place. "Mm-- it sort of reminds me of late 22nd century tech as far as the interface goes, but whatever it uses to identify users half the time has so far eluded me. Techopaths haven't been able to talk to it, and I don't have any telepaths handy to look at it that way."
Where's Spock when he needs him. Asleep, the jerk. So, like: "Are you an android, by the way?"