The expansion of Data's duties had, not surprisingly, absorbed all of his time since his return to Daystrom. As Leo had expected, Dr. Grayson had allowed his personal judgments to guide his database programming in Leo's absence. AKA, in Leo's estimation, "fucking everything up just because he can".

"Commander, the Lieutenant's parameters simply don't take into account the mechanical nature of the subjects of the project. She doesn't have enough experience in cybernetics to keep her from anthropomorphizing them and quantifying their characteristics as if they were human." Grayson was aware that he was quantifying the Commander himself, but he believed an android's absence of emotions would make Data more inclined to agree. Unfortunately other variables had been ignored.

True, Data was incapable of being emotionally offended by Grayson's attitude. Yet he found it in direct opposition to the intent of the project. He also recognized that Dr. Grayson was devaluing the importance of Leo's perspective, and thus her contribution to the project. This Data found fundamentally unacceptable, with or without an e-chip.

"Dr. Grayson, notwithstanding your technical estimation of Lieutenant O'Reilly's management of this aspect of the project, your mandate is to fulfill her instructions. If their technical logic is not immediately apparent, it additionally is your mandate to determine the analogs that will make them so. That being the case, you are to delete the alternate database parameters you have written since our departure, and resume your design of the multilevel database per the Lieutenant's instructions. If any of these instructions require clarification, Commander Maddox will provide you with details of the project's administrative protocols."

Thus Dr. Grayson stood corrected, in several respects.

Lieutenant Leo O'Reilly's temporary quarters, 1600 hours, day 3

When finally Data found time to contact Leo he was well aware that she would likely be exhausted and distressed. He knew instinctively (or what he had analogously assimilated as "instincts") she had spent many hours at Captain Picard's side. He did not, however, anticipate the level of anger that was apparent when he requested "onscreen".

Leo was pacing, no, stomping. Given the limited range of the visual subspace monitor, Data could catch only glimpses of his wife.

Data's hail came as Leo was in full-bore raging rampage.

"What??" she shouted as the computer announced "Private subspace communication for Lieutenant O'Reilly."

"Hello? I am sorry it has taken so long for me to contact you. Is everything all right?" As soon as the words left his mouth Data realized how ridiculous they were. E-chip or no, distance regardless, he could fairly sense Leo's distress.

"They know something, but they won't help!" Leo's rage was readily apparent even as her partial image flashed in and out of the frame of his monitor. "There's some sort of negotiations going on with the Cardassians, and oh dear we mustn't upset them by reminding them of what they did to the captain to make their torture easier!"

"They?" Cardassians? Data was completely nonplussed. "Leo, please, calm yourself. Sit down so we can communicate face to face. I do not understand."

Leo stopped in mid-rant and forced herself to be still. "D, it's so much worse than we thought." Please, say something else. I need that voice to calm me down.

"Cara mia. I know you must be tired and worried. Please, sit down and take a moment to be calm. Tell me."

Tell me. The two magic words. She sat in front of her comport and focused on Data's face. She'd been without him for only a couple of days, but oh god, she realized he was exactly what she needed. She sucked in a breath and managed to speak in complete logical sentences.

"Will contacted Starfleet Command. See, Geordi and I had figured out maybe what's going on has something to do with what the Cardassians did to the captain surgically, you know, so they could…" she trailed off, not wanting to think too hard about it.

"Influence him," Data offered. "Yes, that would be a logical theory. Assuming that nothing in Dr. Crusher's evaluation indicated that the captain's physiology was the source of the failure, the most reasonable supposition would be the most recent external alterations he had undergone."

"Right! And the most recent alteration had to be the Cardassians' surgical implant. But the biophysical details are considered classified. That might have made sense for awhile, but I don't understand why they're still verboten just because the Federation is interested making nice with the Cardassians."

Data considered this, and considered the wisdom of his next suggestion. He did not wish to hold back any relevant thoughts, but knew what response they would trigger in Leo. However the "bottom line", as many of his human friends termed it, was the captain's life, and that consideration was paramount. Being essentially logical above all things, and unable to forget anything he had experienced, Data also was aware of the unfortunate possibility that the Federation's "bottom line" differed from that of his friends and colleagues.

"Perhaps the Federation is presently dedicated to plausible deniability." Data found it hard to believe that Leo had failed to consider this, but her transformed expression confirmed it. "It is quite possible that Starfleet believes that in the interests of gaining the trust of the Cardassians that no ill will remains. Good will would thus depend upon not acknowledging recent transgressions by the Cardassians."

"Oh my god… they're more concerned with covering their ass than saving the captain's life?" The full-bore cynicism of Leo's origins had been dulled by her experiences to the contrary in this century, even if she'd been able to identify the old-world practices of military brinksmanship during the Cardassian incident. But when peace and alliance was the issue… could the Federation really be as soulless as governments of her own time had been, even now??

"Perhaps they do not see it that way," Data advised, "Perhaps they truly believe that the two are not mutually exclusive."

Leo was half out of her chair. "Oh, sure. Like those empty suits ever thought that deep. Y'know even I hadn't thought that they could be so unethical, but I guess I was wrong. I should have known better! Nothing changes, nothing improves, when it comes to military-political crap, nothing!!" Despite her resolute intention to be expedient and logical for the captain's sake, Leo's emotional outrage carried her over the edge. Pride and self-righteousness usurped control from pragmatism. That self-righteousness wouldn't help the captain, and quite possibly could harm him, didn't register.

"Leora Eileen!"

The edge in Data's voice pulled Leo back into her seat as he continued.

"The first priority is the captain's survival."

Leo couldn't control her annoyance. "No shit, Sherlock!"

"And if the Federation is not forthcoming with the information you require, you must focus your thoughts on pursuing an alternative. Now is not the time to allow emotion to control you."

He was right, he was so right, he was always right, she realized. "I wish I had you here to remind me of that."

There was the Mona Data smile, and its comfort was immediate.

"I am no less 'here' than when we stood in the same room. I know you, and know that you will be able to marshal your emotions to serve what is necessary. I only wish I could be here to provide the physical support that I know would help you."

Leo admitted, "Well that would be a plus."

"Perhaps it would have been wise for you to accept my holograph program." He was hoping to derail her anger with a bit of humor.

She shook her head and told him glumly, "It just wouldn't be the same."

Data's expression sobered. "No, it would not be, for either of us."

Stasis isolation room, 2100 hours, day 3

"Starfleet is being uncooperative, quelle surprise. Can you believe they're 'negotiating' with the Cardassians? Try negotiating with mosquitoes… no matter what they say they'll still drink your blood. Well not to worry, Geordi and I are still on the case and we are both watching your caboose. But I'm afraid Sherlock has run his course and we might be about to bend protocol, I'm sure you're shocked to hear that. All that logical deductive up-front reasoning hasn't gotten us anywhere. I really hoped for better but I'm only disappointed, not surprised. Another shock for you, huh? I gotta talk with Geordi, we'll come up with something else. They tell us 'only' another day at warp ten, like proving I was wrong about it taking weeks to get to 515 matters. Not good enough, not good enough. Sorry, no time to read today. Here, another inappropriate act to add to the collection," through the blue field, a kiss on the temple. "I'll be back. And so will you, goddammit, if we all have to earn a court-martial to make it happen."