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You are sitting in your chair, wondering whether this message is from someone you know. This is not exactly the kind of thing you do, ever, and so you have to wonder why someone else would write this, to someone they do not yet know.
Perhaps the chances are the same, whether you meet me for dinner on a holodeck after we exchange messages, or whether we already know each other, and you never answer this and we end up together anyway.
He leaned in a little to see -- there should be a name in the Sender field. Data," Picard said with as little irritation as he could manage.
I disagree -- the chances of a real match are present, but determined by the ineffable qualities of the people who make it. Sometimes things happen to us in space that make me wonder why I joined Starfleet. Beverly was doing a complete cleanout -- all her staff were moving things around, running a localized baryon sweep using handheld units to completely sterilize everything from the biobeds to the nooks and crannies in the cabinets, to the full inventory of instruments and devices. And then he shook himself -- what a fool he was, thinking he could simply treat this as a puzzle to solve. When he came back from his wandering in thought, as the concerto ended, he turned to sit once more and noticed a response. Half an hour later a third arrived, and he stared at the anonymous header for a minute before deleting that one as well.
People would get together and split up as they would, on a starship -- their personal lives were their own.
That they were using some alternate method to go about it shouldn't matter to him."It offends you.
When he approached his quarters he found himself facing the counselor in the corridor, as she was coming from the other direction.
Her quarters were four doors distant from his."Good afternoon," he exclaimed.
Since the Enterprise isn't app based, Data writes an algorithm.