None of these characters or universes are mine (Property of PBS/Paramount/Viacom/Whoever I can't keep track anymore), and I'm not making money off this story. I just like to write whatever pops into my head. Besides, it's good practice for my own story (You can find me and my Historical Fiction on Fiction Press) This is set in an Alternate Universe. Everything is exactly the same, except Tasha Yar is still alive (Rather than die, she transferred to another ship, then returned years later). This is post Lal and pre-emotion chip.

Within, Without

.

Chapter One: The Away Mission

.

.

.

It was a sharp little thing, about 7.75 centimeters in length, 3.5 millimeters in diameter and 13.3 celsius in temperature. Of course this was by visual estimation alone, since the object was now stuck in Commander Data's trachea - or what would be his trachea, had he one.

"Data!" Riker shouted, and nearly lost grip of the object that had suddenly propelled the shard-gone-projectile straight into his crew member's throat. Riker felt mildly dizzy for only a moment, thankful it had been Data in the line of fire and not someone less resilient. Luckily, the other members of the away team were outside the lab and oblivious to the bizarre turn of events within the tiny building that Riker and Data were assigned.

"My god, are you all right?"

"Yes, commander." He replied as nonchalant as was his custom. His voice sounded split, however, as if two Datas were speaking in unison. Damage, no doubt. Calculating yellow eyes met needlessly concerned blue. Data was more curious about the peculiar way human flesh looked when deprived of blood, rather than the offensive sliver of metal now thoroughly lodged within his circuitry.

Riker's face had gone startlingly pale beneath his tan.

"Are you all right, commander?"

"I'm fine." His color was returning quickly, and with a vengeance. A frustrated blush crept from the First Officer's collar, likely at realization he had just shot one of the members he was in charge of protecting. "I was just worried about you." He admitted, then looked down at the cylindrical vessel with new found respect. "What is this thing?"

"Likely a weapon. There are approximately 1,277 different varieties of weapons with similar cylindrical design, usually used to compress gas. A release valve is activated by a depressor. The release of gas acts as a propellant, which-"

"-Data, it sounds like there are two of you."

"Yes, commander. The projectile seems to have pierced my vocal cords and punctured my equivalent of the human central canal of the spine. I must say, that was an excellent shot."

Riker cursed under his breath. "Can you move?"

"Of course." He wiggled his fingers to illustrate, then gingerly placing thumb and index on the offensive object, he tried to remove it. His fingers slipped off the metal shard. "It appears I may need some assistance in removing it, however." He blinked and cocked his head, trying to swallow, and then realized he couldn't.

But he soon found that by compressing his reflex around the shard caused a curious feeling - an intimate awareness of the object that he could relate to Touch. He repeated the attempt to swallow, to relish the sensation of that cool metal he calculated to be about 98% steel, 1.75% carbon and .25% other base metals. So fascinated he was by inspecting the object through attempted swallowing, he was unaware his voluntary gagging display was making Riker go green at the gills.

"Would you stop doing that?!"

"My apologies, commander." Data flipped open his tricorder and resumed his earlier inspection of the lab. There will be plenty of opportunities to inspect this further. He reasoned, trying to control that sometimes insatiable desire to study and observe. Back to the task at hand.

The Away Mission was a simple one: Study the barren terrain of Tseres IV and bring back any interesting artifacts that may prove Dr. Panman's theory on Borg Origins stemming from the planet. The theory was as far-fetched as the thought of bringing back anything useful. Thus far they had discovered part of weapons and evidence of battle... But advanced robotics? No.

Around the lab, Data could see what used to be a stone bench along the West wall. It was now broken at one end and in a sharp decline, where a smorgasbord of odds and ends had slid off and piled high near the floor. Tubes and gears, more cylinders within cylinders, broken and dusty glass, natural oils and - and. and and and. None of these items were of any value except for its base part.

Nothing from this old, abandoned lab was of any interest, save for what was still hitching a ride within his body.

Once he was several feet from Riker, he peered casually over his shoulder. His commanding officer was inspecting what Data recognized was an ancient, dismantled probe, but calculated it would take Riker at least another 12 minutes to conclude as much. Against his orders, he swallowed once more for good measure. Of the .25% base metals, he could now identify it was made up of copper, cobalt, nickel and titanium. How intriguing!

"Riker to LaForge."

"Go ahead, Commander."

"Will you come to the lab for a moment? Data could use your help." I sure as hell am not going through another three hours of listening to him gagging. Riker thought grimly to himself.

"On my way."

Overhearing Riker's request, Data could only assume Riker had heard his covert gag. It appears the distance between Riker and myself was not far enough for him to not hear me, however, in the past it was. He turned to study the human a moment. Had Riker's hearing improved suddenly? His head cocked to the side, like an ancient raptor, in his analysis as he studied him.

He was fully aware that the hearing of an adult in his prime was usually sub-par to that of a child; the decades between the young and the adult will accumulate enough static trauma that what should be the peak of human efficiency would already be worn and tarnished, like a patina on old metal. And yet Riker's hearing improved.

The human body had miraculous moments of spontaneous healing that flew in the face of science - especially when it lacked access to the basic necessities for life, like water. Indeed that should cause more damage, to be denied such an essential element. And yet in short durations of going without that necessity improved vitality in almost every way. It was contradictory but no less true, and such assault on modern medical logic made Starfleet Medical ignore its impirical, and anecdotal, evidence.

It was a beautiful thing, aging and healing, the tearing down and rebuilding, the ever-evolving entity of the learning and adapting human.

"Are you dehydrated, commander?"

"What?"

"Your hearing has improved by at least 6% since our last away mission."

"Has it?" He watched Data nod in confirmation. "And what does that have to do with dehydration?"

"I have observed that the human body goes through periods of accelerated healing when deprived of water. Are you thirsty?"

A clanging of objects heralded Geordi LaForge's approach, much to Riker's relief. Geordi kicked off a wire that had coiled around his leg and entered the lab. "I gotta say I'm happy you called me over, commander. The wind chill really bites into you."

"It's not much warmer in here by any means." He lifted his palm to Data, beckoning Geordi to Data's side. Geordi looked at his hand, then Data, and very slowly, his jaw dropped.

What looked like a metal spike was sticking straight out of Data's neck, and yet he stood and conversed as though nothing were amiss.

"What happened to you?" Geordi set down his case of instruments and leaned so close to Data that he felt the need to lean back in response. Geordi placed a gentle finger on the needle-looking instrument.

"I was inspecting the suspended Probe in the center of the room, to ascertain if it was still active, when Commander Riker shot me." It was so matter of factly stated Geordi almost didn't believe it.

"Shot you?" He turned on Riker, whose hands were lifted in defense.

"It was an accident!" He caught Geordi's outraged expression. "I didn't know it was going to do that," He spread his arms wide in a sweeping motion across the room. "Everything in this lab is inoperable, and I had no idea I was even pointing it at him." He let one arm fall to his hip, the other massaged the bridge of his nose. He was beginning to feel a headache coming on. "Honestly I didn't even know it was a weapon. Will he be all right, Geordi?"

"He looks fine to me." Geordi said as he studied the wound. A miniscule leak was slowly seeping from the entry point - Data's version of bleeding, which meant his spinal hydraulic fluid canal had been breached. A minor nuisance, and easily repairable once back aboard the enterprise. He opened his tool case and fingered through several gadgets, determining which would be best for the situation. He pulled out what looked like coated pliers and lifted it for a better look with his visor. "That should do. Let's take care of that, shall we?"

With the pliers firmly clutching the metal, Geordi LaForge smiled. "Now this won't hurt one bit." He said encouragingly.

"Indeed it won't, Geordi. Your bedside manner is unnecessary, as I lack the ability to experience fear. But I appreciate it."

Geordi licked his lips, preparing himself. He yanked. The needle failed to budge, and he tried again, with no luck.

"May I?" Data asked, then took hold of the pliers as Geordi let go. The android gave it a good yank, and still it remained firmly in place. Geordi whistled.

"You might have to live with that thing. Call it a Piercing and decorate it. Could be the next hot thing in fashion."

"I do not believe anyone on board Enterprise would find this aesthetically pleasing, Geordi."

"It was a joke." He saw Data's quizzical expression. "You know, to try to lighten the mood?"

"Ah!" He smiled at Geordi, then eyed the pliers. "I still fail to recognize the appropriate timing and placement of jokes." He tried tugging on the needle again, to no avail. "I was certain the Gorilla joke would have evoked laughter, but I received scorn instead."

The engineer placed his hand over Data's. "That's because you told the joke at a funeral, Data. We'll do this together, on three. Ready? One, two... Three!" Data lurched forward, the pliers still in hand and the needle still imbedded.

"Have you tried pulling down, Geordi?" Riker asked and grabbed the pliers himself. "Maybe all three of us can get it loose." He braced his foot against Data's chest for good measure. "Again. One... Two...Three!" They yanked. It quickly dislodged with a metallic pop!, and Riker fell to the floor, pliers and needle still in his hands. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the thing - hovering only an inch from his eyes, he could see it was impossibly sharp but hollow in the center like a traditional stylus. On the other end a drop of whitish liquid beaded at the tip.

Data tentatively dabbed at his throat. A small hole remained where the needle once was. Some more liquid trickled into the hollow spot at the base of his neck. He eyed commander Riker, still on the floor and grasping the offending spike and pliers.

"Thank you, commander." He extended his hand and Riker took it. He hoisted his superior to his feet. "And you, Geordi." He eyed the needle with interest. "Would you mind if I kept that, commander?"

He handed the needle and pliers to Data. "Sure, I don't see why not."

"Thank you. I will need it to pierce my ears. Perhaps you could assist me?"

"Uh." Riker replied and rubbed his beard, purposely avoiding eye contact.

"That was a joke, commander." Data was expecting laughter. Riker looked away. He glanced to Geordi, who stifled a grimace.

"I take your expressions to mean I failed to humor you. I will try again later, perhaps when the timing is better."

"Data... You can't force humor."

"In fact, we'd all appreciate it if you didn't."

"Come on." Riker grumbled. "There's nothing else this lab has to offer."

"I hope we find something of significance soon, It's freezing down here." Geordi rubbed his hands together and breathed on them. He followed Riker on his way out, and caught sight of Data tucking both needle and cylinder into a small Starfleet pack.

It's freezing, there's nothing here, I shot Data, and this lab is boring the hell out of me. As Riker stepped out the doorway of the lab, a blast of cold air disturbed his hair, and the same wire that had tried to claim Geordi now wrapped itself around Riker's leg. He was more than eager to leave the suffocating lab and the thought of anything keeping him from leaving was an offense to his freedom, even if it was an inanimate object. With one frustrated jerk, the wiring grew taught, then snapped off a small panel from the East wall where it had been attached.

Data and Geordi turned. "Commander, look!" They crouched near the small square-foot panel. It was a small storage space with a single, well preserved data recorder neatly tucked inside.

Geordi laughed. "Commander, I think you just found what we were looking for!"

.

.

.