"Tasha, have you made up your mind yet about whether you want to have the baby?"

"I haven't, no." Tasha slid off the examination table. "Why, what's the rush?"

Dr. Crusher put down her tricorder. "No rush. At least not yet. But I'm as bound by regulations as everyone else. So I'd better warn you: after the sixteenth week of pregnancy I am not allowed to perform an abortion on the baby anymore. For you, that means in three weeks time," she reminded her.

Tasha sighed, and lay back down on the table again. "Better get it over and done with then."

"What?" Dr. Crusher shook her head. "Sorry, young lady, but this is not a decision to make lightly."

"I'm not making it lightly: I've been thinking about it from the day I learned I was pregnant," Tasha pointed out.

"Yes. And less than a minute ago you told me you hadn't made up your mind yet. Sorry, but that's not what I call a well-considered decision. Do you?"

Another sigh, and Tasha sat up again. "Alright, alright, I'll think about it some more. But it is kind of busy around here, with all those guests on board, and that Remmick guy stirring up everyone."

"Then you better make time. This is important, too." Dr. Crusher could be stern if she wanted to. "Also, if you do choose to go through with an abortion, then I want you to discuss the matter thoroughly with Mr. Data. After all, it's his child, too."

Tasha grimaced. "So much for women's rights. Do I perhaps need his consent as well?"

"No, but he is the father, and since he's already indicated that he's more than willing to accept the responsibilities of parenthood, you're going to have to explain your decision to him. And also..." She glanced at her unwilling patient. "I've said this before: I'd like you to have a serious talk with Counselor Troi."

Tasha's scowl said it all, but the doctor continued to try and persuade her. "I know you're not too keen on counseling. But she can help you to straighten out your feelings towards this baby, whether you'd want to have it or not. Anyway, I'm not allowed to perform an abortion without a counselor's report. So if you really do want to have your baby aborted, then you're going to have to see her."

Tasha scowled. "Fine then. I'll go and see her now."

"It's not so easy to tell. Tasha doesn't open up easily even under the most favourable circumstances; especially not to me. The best way I can describe her state of mind on the matter is that she is determined to convince herself that she's convinced she wants the abortion."

Dr. Crusher blinked. "So if I may phrase that in a more accessible manner, you're basically saying she's not convinced?"

Troi nodded. "She just won't admit it. We've made a whole list of the pros and cons of having this child – well, she doesn't see any pros. Whatever I suggested as a positive aspect she deftly twisted into a negative one. For example the warmth and the sense of belonging that come with being part of a family – she insisted she prefers to be on her own, without the burden of having to consider others."

Dr. Crusher sighed. "Well, you've got to admit that the whole concept of family life is probably rather alien to her. The way she grew up..."

"I know. But..." Deanna smiled. "She does yearn for it. I caught her a few times – oh, not during our sessions, but during quiet moments on the bridge. Basking herself in the mere idea of the love and the joy and trust she'd get from a daughter. In such moments, the happiness and the longing simply radiate from her. But it's always quickly pushed aside for more rational considerations. 'A Security Chief doesn't live to get old. It'd be cruel to have a child, only to deprive it of her mother at an early age.' And things like that."

The doctor grimaced. "That's a new one. But it fits in with the usual list I get: bursting at the seems with practicality." She raked her hands through her hair. "Deanna, what are we going to do? If she keeps insisting that she doesn't want the baby, then I have no reason to deny her an abortion. But are we doing the right thing?"

Deanna had a sad shrug. "There's not much we can do about it, I'm afraid. It's not like she's upset, or unanswerable for her actions – she's calm, and rational. Too rational for my liking. For the past two weeks I've been trying to get her to voice that longing I've sensed from her. And the faint regret at her decision. But she denies having any such feelings, and flatly refuses to discuss anything but her reasons for not having the baby. That's what is really worrying me: that she refuses to acknowledge her own ambiguity on the subject. To be honest, I don't see what choice we have but to abide by the wish she voices, but I have serious concerns about her being haunted by remorse afterwards."

"Which she'll probably just lock away again – just like the rest of her already impressive trauma collection." Dr. Crusher heaved a sigh. "Sometimes I can't help wondering when it's all going to blow up."

Deanna had a tired smile. "The pitcher and the well, eh?"

"Yeah. Having an abortion is one thing, but going through with it denying any feeling on the subject when in fact you do have doubts... Has she talked to Mr. Data yet?"

"No, not yet. But I advised her this morning that she shouldn't wait much longer to do so. He has a right to know, even if he is only an android."

"Well, let's hope he'll talk some sense into her. Hopefully, with his ingrained respect for life, he won't take the deliberate killing of his offspring very lightly." Dr. Crusher got up. "And we still have about a week. I can delay an abortion till the end of next week, but that's as far as I can go. Do you think you could keep working with her a little longer, too? I'd feel a whole lot better about this if only Tasha would admit to the feelings she does have towards this child."

Back in her cabin, Tasha pulled up the duty rosters. Good: Data was off-duty this afternoon. Better get this over and done with.

She touched the computer panel on the wall. "Computer, the location of Lt. Commander Data?"

"Lt. Commander Data is in his quarters."

That was just down the corridor. So she quickly strode over, and entered Data's spartan quarters at his invitation. "Hi. I need to talk to you. You got a minute?"

"Of course, Lieutenant. What is on your mind?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm going to have the baby aborted."

Data's eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Why? Is the child not viable? Is she developing androidic physiology? Are you perhaps experiencing detrimental side effects?"

Tasha frowned. "No. I just... I've just decided I don't want to have it."

Data's expression turned to worried puzzlement. Amazing, Tasha thought, how many emotions his face was able to express, even with little or no feelings behind it. Pure mimicry, no doubt.

"I am sorry, Lieutenant," Data said. "But I do not understand. If there is nothing wrong with our little girl, then why do you not want to have her?"

Tasha sighed with exasperation. "Because I just don't want to have a baby!"

"Why not?"

"Hundreds of reasons. It'd simply be too complicated. And I'm just not the motherly type."

Silence.

"Those are two reasons, Lieutenant. Please continue. And please elaborate the first one: what would be too complicated?"

"This whole thing of having a baby. Who's going to look after it while I'm on duty?"

"I am," Data replied placidly. "Had we not already agreed to that?"

"Yeah, well, and who's going to take care of it when we're both on duty?"

"Then we can bring her to the ship's nursery. All parents do," Data pointed out.

Tasha sighed. "Well, it still wouldn't work. I'm a security officer. The fewer emotional ties and liabilities, the better."

Data gave her a curious glance. "The Chief of Security I served with aboard the U.S.S. Trieste had three children. They did not stop him from being an exemplary security officer."

She snorted. "But he was a male."

"Is there a difference?"

"Is there a difference? Data, he didn't have to be pregnant and give birth himself!"

"That, however, is but a temporary problem for you as a female officer. Why should a physical inconvenience that will merely temporarily affect your ability to do your job stop you from bringing our daughter into the world?"

"Because! Because it'd leave me vulnerable! And emotionally less stable. I cannot afford that as Chief of Security."

"Why not? Would that not, too, be only temporary?"

"No, it wouldn't!" She started pacing. It was distracting – unnerving almost – to have an argument with someone who didn't get angry in return, and instead dealt with her every outburst with the utmost calm. It made her feel stupid, and childish. And out of control. "Data, don't you see that any malevolent fool would only have to point a phaser at my kid and I'd turn into jelly?"

"Jelly? Are you..."

"Idiom, Data." Tasha sighed. "Meaning I would be too scared that something would happen to my kid to be able to think straight. And that could put lots of lives at risk."

"Ah." Data tilted his head. "That would imply that security officers should not become parents. Ever."

"Exactly. A Chief of Security can't have children – it's as simple as that. Especially since it's such a dangerous job: you know as well as I do that the life expectation for security officers is considerably shorter than for other officers. I can't deprive this kid of her mother at an early age – that'd be cruel!"

Data frowned. "So because there is a chance that she might lose her mother, you have decided that she had better not live at all?"

Tasha flinched.

"Still," Data continued as cool as a cucumber. "I am expected to live forever. So she would still have her father to take care of her. It is not uncommon for a child to be raised by only one parent."

Tasha laughed nervously. "Data, you can't raise a kid all by yourself!"

"Why not?"

"Why, you're an android!"

"Yes. I know. And I am programmed to learn, and to respond to human needs. That is the basic role of a parent, is it not? So why should I not be capable of learning how to be a parent?"

"Data, parents are supposed to teach and guide their children; not the other way around."

Data nodded. "Yet nobody teaches humans how to be a parent. They all have to learn on the job. So why not me? Or you? You say you are not the motherly type. Have you tried yet to take care of an infant?"

Tasha's face hardened. "Believe me, Data, I have. Back on Turkana IV, when I was a kid. After my mother abandoned us, I took care of my little sister for years. I know what it's like to be a parent."

Calmly, Data shook his head. "That is an irrealistic comparison, Lieutenant. Back then you were a child yourself. Now you are a grown-up."

"It's still the same routine and responsibility. And I'm simply not up to that. Not ready, if you prefer. I don't want to be a mother."

Data regarded her in frowning contemplation. "There must be other options that will permit our daughter to live, and yet will relieve you of the duties of motherhood. In fact, I would not mind raising her all by myself in case you really would not want a part in her upbringing. But I do suppose I would need some assistance in the guidance of her emotional development. Perhaps Counselor Troi would be willing to oblige me in that."

Tasha sighed. "Forget it, Data. I don't want to be a mother. So I'm not going to have this baby and that's final."

"I object." A firm Data suddenly stood. "If there is nothing wrong with our daughter, then she must have the right to live. Can you not at least give birth to her properly?"

"Yes, and what about my life in the meantime?"

"And what about her life?"

"Data, if I'd do that, then I'd still have to go through this whole pregnancy thing!"

"That will last for only twenty-seven more weeks at the most. Probably shorter. Is that worth killing her for?"

Tasha flinched. "Not 'killing', Data. Aborting."

"The result is the same. It is still infanticide. Child-murder. Are you really prepared to be guilty of that?"

"No! I mean... I don't know what I mean. Data, why are you trying to confuse me?"

"Forgive me, Lieutenant: I have no intention of confusing you. You are merely giving me your reasons for having our daughter deliberately killed – the number of which incidentally has not added up to ten yet – and so far I have been able to refute them all. You said you had hundreds of reasons. I would appreciate to hear the others. For 'no life should be taken easily'. You do remember your classes in ethics at the Academy, do you not?"

Tasha huffed. "Hey, it's easy for you to say! You're not the one who's pregnant! And besides, why are you making such a fuss? You promised me yourself that you'd comply with my every wish!"

"Yes, I did. And I will. But not to the point where it requires the killing of a living being." He walked to the door. "But since I do understand that you do not wish to continue this pregnancy, I will go and speak with Dr. Crusher right away to try and find an alternative solution to enable our daughter to live. Please be patient a little longer and do not bring any harm to her yet."

"Dr. Crusher." Data came striding into her little office. "Lieutenant Yar and I have a disagreement regarding our daughter. May I disturb you for some advice?"

"Of course, Data. Have a seat, please. What can I do for you?"

Data sat down across from her. "Lieutenant Yar has informed me that she intends to terminate our daughter's life. I disagree. I offered to take on the complete responsibility for raising the child once she is born, but she refuses to even complete the pregnancy in order for the child to live."

Dr. Crusher nodded. "Yes, I've heard. It's very sad."

"It is indeed. Therefore: doctor, is it possible to transplant the baby into the womb of a surrogate mother who is willing to fulfill the pregnancy for her? I would be happy to volunteer my own body, but I doubt my positronic net will be compatible with my daughter's needs."

Dr. Crusher just stared at him, touched as she was by the determination of this piece of electronic equipment to save his unborn daughter.

"Doctor?" he prompted her.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Data, I was thinking. But I'm afraid it's not possible. Scientists have been experimenting with such procedures indeed, but unfortunately, the ties between mother and child are far too delicate to be severed and replaced. The child wouldn't stand a chance. I'm sorry."

"I see." Data sat silent for a moment, contemplating the whole mess. "Doctor, I hope you are able to enlighten me concerning a mystery in human behaviour I have encountered today. Tell me: why would a human wish to kill his own offspring?"

A sigh from Dr. Crusher. "In this case, it's my impression that Tasha is mainly frightened. Of the future, of the unknown, the complete responsibility for an other person's well-being, the challenge of raising a child..."

Data frowned. "I have not seen Lieutenant Yar back away from a challenge before."

Dr. Crusher had a wan smile. "It's a different kind of challenge, Data. Tell her to fight a major enemy, and she'll thrive. Tell her to take care of an infant, and she'll panic. It's quite common with warriors. And as long as she's not confronted with the fact that her baby is really alive, it's possible for her to downplay the... Wait a minute..." Her face lit up.

Data leaned forward in alarm. "Dr. Crusher, are you alright? Your cheeks are suddenly going all red."

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. But you've just given me an idea for a last minute attempt to get Tasha to realize that... So thank you! But I'll need to speak to Troi, to see what we can do."

Deanna looked doubtful. "It could work, yes. But it'd be awfully last minute. Do you think that's fair to Tasha?"

Dr. Crusher raised her eyebrows. "Do you think it's fair to the baby that her mother wants to have her killed, just because she's too damned stubborn to admit to herself that she would actually enjoy having a child?"

Deanna frowned. "I never said that. She longs for it beside her desire for her independence and her preference for a total lack of emotional ties."

"Alright. But actually seeing her baby, enlarged to a real size newborn might even tip the scale in the child's favour."

An understanding smile. "You really do want this child to live, don't you."

"Yeah..." The doctor blushed a little at being caught. "My job is meant to preserve life, not to take it. And it just irks me to no end to have to perform an abortion when there is a chance of saving the child's life. And a fair chance. After all, it's not like Tasha is dead set on an abortion. She does have doubts already." She hesitated. "She still has?"

Deanna nodded. "I have noticed her feelings getting stronger – in both directions. It seems Mr. Data's blunt translation of the term 'abortion' was awfully hard for her to swallow. I sense from her that she really would prefer not to have to kill the child – but she very much prefers not to have it either." She sighed. "Pretty impossible situation, isn't it? But in order to drown out her growing ambiguity, she's getting more and more adamant in voicing her wish to have the abortion." A sad shake of the head. "Some counselor in this galaxy is going to have a hell of a time one day to try and help her come to terms with this."

"So you're saying that psychologically, it'd be better for her if she did have the baby – despite all the consequences," the doctor summarized.

"All things considered, and seeing the development of her state of mind these past weeks – yes," Deanna admitted. "I'm getting the impression that – given more time – she would eventually turn around."

"Good. Then we only need to convince Tasha."

"Beverly, you cannot deny her an abortion if that is what she says she wants!"

"Don't worry, I won't." Dr. Crusher looked very smug all of a sudden. "But like I said: I can play a little on those doubts she already has. Just to try and tip the scale. And if she's got such trouble coming to terms with the idea of 'killing' her child..."

"Are you ready?"

A deep intake of breath. "Ready. Go ahead."

With a grim smile, Dr. Crusher turned on the viewscreen. And to her satisfaction, she heard a small gasp escape the soon no longer mother-to-be. For there was the child – her child. It was unmistakably a perfect little baby – albeit in miniature. And most definitely alive and kicking.

Tasha's eyes were glued to the screen, and the doctor smugly busied herself with her instruments for a few moments longer. Let her take it in, and then: nix with the usual considerate bedside manners. No more sugar-coating: say it as it is! It may be borderline unethical, but if that's what it takes to help save an innocent life...!

"Tasha, what do you prefer? Get your child out alive so you can tell her face to face that you don't want her to live, and then have her die in your arms? Or kill her first so she doesn't have to live through the whole trauma of being pulled out of her safe little nest, long before she can survive outside it?"

Tasha swallowed hard, and her eyes bulged a bit. "Do you have to put it like that?"

Dr. Crusher shrugged. "It's exactly what we're doing, isn't it?"

"Yes, but..." Tasha's eyes darted back to the screen. Dr. Crusher enlarged it to the size of a full-born baby, and they saw the little girl gently swinging back and forth in the clear fluid. Occasionally her foot kicked out for no apparent reason. And then they saw her tiny little hand, with five perfectly shaped shrimp fingers, being brought to her mouth in a quite coordinated movement. As if she was searching for her thumb to suck on.

Tasha gulped. "No. Wait. I just..."

Dr. Crusher hid a smile and stepped aside.

Seconds ticked by. Minutes even. She noticed Tasha blinking stealthily, trying to control her tears without giving away that she was crying. But in the end... "Okay. Go ahead." Trembling, but determined.

Now it was Dr. Crusher's turn to gulp. Had their scheme failed? But she had to keep trying to get through to her – to rub it in what she was doing! "So which option do you prefer?"

Tasha gulped, too. "The second. I don't want her to go through all that. And I don't think I could face her."

"Which option was that again? I forget." A devious, desperate last minute attempt to stagger the unwilling mother... God, please! Open her eyes!

Tasha turned to glare at her. "You know what I meant!" Her eyes were indeed brimming with tears.

But: "Yes," the doctor pressed on relentlessly. "But I need you to consciously order me to do it. What do you want me to do with your little baby?"

Tasha's haunted eyes flitted back to the screen. The little baby-girl was hiding her little head in her arms. Almost as if she was scared. Did she perhaps – somehow – realize what was going on?

She took a deep breath. Closed her eyes, and...

A sob. "I can't. I can't do it!"

The doctor put down her hypospray in a decidedly pointed manner. "You're sure?"

A gulp. Another sob. And a croaked: "Yes. How... how can I order such a... helpless little creature to be... killed?" It was a cry of sheer agony.

Dr. Crusher smiled, and patted her hand. "To be honest, both Deanna and I were pretty sure you couldn't. We just had to find a way to get you to admit that you couldn't."

Tasha even laughed through her tears. "Oh doc, what am I going to do?"

Dr. Crusher pulled her upright and took the shaken Security Chief in her arms. "You're going to have your baby, and you're going to be just fine. And I understand that Data has already offered to accept permanent custody of the child. So if you prefer, this whole business can be over and done with for you once you've let your little daughter see the light of day."

"But it still scares the hell out of me..."

"I know. And I'm not going to tell you that carrying a pregnancy to full term is easy. But going through with the abortion – especially when you're not all that certain that it's indeed what you want – wouldn't have made it all that easy to live with yourself either."

Tasha hugged her tight. "Thanks, doc," she brought out. "And... just be there for me, will you?"

"Any time," the doctor assured her. And as soon as Tasha let go of her, Dr. Crusher touched her communicator. "Dr. Crusher to Mr. Data."

"Data here. Go ahead, doctor."

"Mr. Data, I'm happy to inform you that your daughter will live."

They heard a whoop from Geordi in the background, and a cheer that sounded like Commander Riker's. Tasha chuckled with strangely relieved embarrassment.

And it wasn't until then that they heard Data reply, "Thank you, doctor. Data out."

Dr. Crusher smiled at Tasha's tear-stained face. "Now was it just my imagination, or did I really detect a note of happy relief in that android's voice?"