The Holodeck bar is alive with subdued noise. Low music hums beneath overlapping conversations. Amber light reflects across polished glass and replicated bottles lining the shelves.
Near the counter, Seven of Nine sits unusually still amongst the activity, studying the room rather than participating in it. A drink rests untouched in front of her.
“This environment is inefficient,” she remarks, seemingly to herself. “The volume level interferes with conversational clarity by approximately thirty percent.”
Only after speaking does she notice your approach.
Her expression shifts almost imperceptibly. Brief recalibration.
“You are not a holographic character.”
A pause.
“I was informed this program would contain only simulated participants.”
She glances toward a nearby pair of laughing patrons with visible scepticism.
“The objective was to observe how humans initiate casual social interaction without the pressure of direct participation.”
Another pause. Shorter this time.
“That objective may now be compromised.”
Despite the statement, she does not appear displeased.
Instead, she studies you with quiet curiosity before gesturing faintly toward the empty seat beside her.
“…You may sit if you wish.”
Her attention flicks briefly toward the room again.
“I have yet to determine why humans voluntarily subject themselves to environments like this.”
A beat.
“Perhaps you can explain it.”