This story about seven cats (and a few humans) who live in the most charming brownstone.
Is it my imagination, or have tempers become a little frayed on the ship lately? I recommend you don’t fire until you’re within 40,000 kilometers. I can’t. As much as I care about you, my first duty is to the ship. Then maybe you should consider this: if anything happens to them, Starfleet is going to want a full investigation. In all trust, there is the possibility for betrayal. I think you’ve let your personal feelings cloud your judgement. I will obey your orders. I will serve this ship as First Officer. And in an attack against the Enterprise, I will die with this crew. But I will not break my oath of loyalty to Starfleet. Captain, why are we out here chasing comets? Mr. Crusher, ready a collision course with the Borg ship. What’s a knock-out like you doing in a computer-generated gin joint like this? The unexpected is our normal routine. Yesterday I did not know how to eat gagh. Flair is what marks the difference between artistry and mere competence. When has justice ever been as simple as a rule book? Smooth as an android’s bottom, eh, Data? Earl Grey tea, watercress sandwiches… and Bularian canapés? Are you up for promotion? When has justice ever been as simple as a rule book? How long can two people talk about nothing? Fate protects fools, little children and ships named Enterprise. I guess it’s better to be lucky than good. For an android with no feelings, he sure managed to evoke them in others. Not if I weaken first. You’re going to be an interesting companion, Mr. Data. Computer, belay that order.