Chapter Eleven

"How is she?" Riker asked as Troi joined him in the narrow foyer that linked the small medical clinic with the exercise facility's larger dome. He'd stationed himself there, near the tinted, transparent aluminum doors, to keep an eye on the captain as he wrangled the wandering horses, and to maintain a look out in case Data or any of the archaeologists should attempt to return to the compound, but he'd also set a tricorder to run a continuous, wide-range sweep for humanoid life forms. So far, only his, Troi's, Kurak's, and the captain's readings showed on the little screen.

"She's sedated," Troi reported grimly. "Kurak's internal injuries were much more extensive than they first appeared. I've done what I could for her, and she is stable, but she needs real medical attention, Will – more than what little this clinic can provide. We have to find a way to contact the Enterprise."

"I know," Riker grunted. "But, according to the readouts, the capital's currently being buffeted by a pretty intense sandstorm. The storm will start moving our way in a few hours, but until it clears the main city any hope of subspace communication is pretty much out. We just have to wait, and be ready with our message when a window opens."

Troi sighed and pursed her lips. Riker reached out to wrap an arm around her shoulders.

"So," he said, giving her a playful little squeeze, "are we having fun yet?"

Troi snorted despite herself, but ducked out of his embrace.

"Don't joke," she scolded. "Not with Data missing. And Kurak's poor little girl!"

She sighed and ran a hand over her dark hair.

"Data… I'm worried about him, Will, more than I've ever been. These past two days…it's strange, but I've been feeling like I've only just started to get to know him. Who he is, what he's really capable of – beyond the curiosity and imitative behaviors. For this to happen now, at such a critical juncture in his development—"

"I know, Deanna," Riker said. "I'm worried about him too. We just have to remember: despite that damned emotion chip, Data is a trained, experienced officer and he can handle himself. If he is functional, he will find his way back. You have to trust that. Trust him. And in the meantime, we'll do what we can on our end."

"I only wish it were that simple," Troi said. "Don't you see, Will? Before Data installed that chip, his responses were largely a function of his ethical program. He made rational decisions, drawing on intellect and experience – decisions he could always thoroughly explain and justify."

"And you're saying that's no longer the case," Riker said.

"Not exactly." She sighed again, struggling to put her emotional impressions into words. "Data will always be a rational being…it's one of the defining aspects of his personality, perhaps of being an android. My concern is this kidnapping…that it may have placed him in a position where his emotions could too easily overwhelm his rational nature."

Riker's brow furrowed as he trailed her line of thought.

"You're talking about post-traumatic stress," he realized. "Data is still recovering from his abduction by the Borg, and now he's been kidnapped by Nausicaans. If the parallel should trigger an emotional break—"

"Exactly," Deanna said. "Layer that with his previous abduction by his brother, Lore, and that awful collector Kivas Fajo… Can we honestly trust that Data will not react violently against his captors – this time driven, not by ethics and intellect, but by raw emotion? And if he were to lose control… Could he recover? Would he be able to rationalize it, move on from it, as a human might, or would it lead to an even deeper emotional crisis?"

Riker sighed through his nose and took her hands.

"I get where you're coming from, Deanna," he said. "But, this is all speculation. And, Data is not Lore. The anger he confessed to feeling last night isn't the same as hatred and, to my knowledge, Data's never acted out of sheer malice. Even when pitted against the Borg, when he fought, it was in defense of others. Whatever personal stresses he's going through, emotional or otherwise, he's just not a vicious person at heart. If anything, I think his attitude this morning is a better indicator of the kind of man he's growing into."

"If he gets the chance…" Troi scowled down at their linked hands. "Right now, we don't even know where he is, if he's alive or hurt or—"

"I hate this not knowing too," Riker said. "But—"

"Wait…" Troi said. The focus of her eyes shifted inward and she turned to the windows in alarm.

"Where's the captain?" she demanded.

Riker joined her and swore behind his teeth at the sight of the empty, sand-swirled compound. He glanced at the tricorder, but the captain's readings no longer blinked on the screen.

"He was just grabbing the horses…" he growled, and turned to Deanna, his phaser already in his hand. "Stay with Kurak," he ordered, and was through the doors before she could speak.


Picard had found the compound's small stable with little trouble and settled the horses in, removing their loads and saddles and fitting them each with a nosebag of oats. The animals were still nervous and fidgety, but Picard gave them a quick rubdown with the brushes Data had packed for them and, slowly, they began to calm down.

Satisfied their mounts and supplies would be safe for the time being, he'd taken his tricorder and headed in the direction of the Stairway, scanning for any residual heat signatures or atmospheric disturbances that could indicate whether any of the missing archaeology team members had recently passed that way.

The captain had only gone a few dozen meters when he heard muffled voices. The tricorder showed no life form readings, and Picard was just about to head back to signal Riker to join him, but the sandy ground under his feet suddenly began to judder and tremble. He lost his footing and lay flat, resolved to wait out the tremor, until he heard the voices again. They seemed to be coming from directly under him…

"What's wrong?" one of them asked, the words so muffled it was impossible to tell if it was a man or woman speaking.

"It's stuck," another replied. "I don't know if it's wedged, or if the mechanism's just ridiculously old."

"Probably both," the first voice said. "Here, let me help…"

The juddering got worse. Picard rolled away from the shaking ground and almost missed an odd, oblong sort of trap door leap open behind him. Before the captain could think to take cover, two people began clambering awkwardly out of the hole in the ground, helping each other find hand and footholds in the loose sand. They wore broad-brimmed hats and loose khaki clothing with plenty of pockets, and both were laden down with so many scanning and recording devices Picard found it incredible they managed the climb at all.

"Almost got it…there you go!"

A tall woman with a very long, very blonde sunbleached braid pulled a slightly shorter, copper-skinned man to his feet, and the pair of them batted the sand and dust from their clothes.

"Thank you," the man said rather primly, his expression showing just a hint of amusement – until his dark eyes fell on the captain, who was also just climbing to his feet.

"Anders," he said, alerting the woman.

Her ice-blue eyes widened, and a broad smile stretched over her flushed face.

"Oh, you must be one of the Starfleet tourists!" she greeted, striding over to the captain with her hand outstretched. "Sorry if we startled you! I'm Dr. Freja Anders and this is my colleague, Dr. Prasannatman Kapoor."

"Nat," the man said, shaking Picard's hand in turn. "Would I be correct in assuming that you are Captain Jean-Luc Picard, of the Enterprise?"

"You would indeed," Picard told him. "And would I be correct in assuming you are two of the four missing archaeologists we've been hoping to find?"

"Missing?" Anders said, and laughed. "We weren't missing. We were down surveying the new tunnel complex we just uncovered. Didn't Melinda tell you when you arrived?"

"Melinda?" Picard couldn't hide a wince, realizing it must have been her ashes Data had found in the sand. "Would that be Dr. Melinda Baker?"

"Well, yes," Anders said. "She was supposed to meet your group at the compound. Are you saying she didn't greet you?"

Picard sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I'm afraid I have some very bad news. Were you the only ones exploring the site?"

"No," Nat said. "Tu'Pari is still down there, taking readings."

"He said he'd join us for dinner, in about an hour," Anders said worriedly. "Why? What is it, Captain? What's wrong?"

"It would probably be best to tell you all at once," Picard said. "I'd like you to join me back at the compound. Can you contact Tu'Pari?"

"Not down there," Anders said. "There's some kind of ancient dampening field we still haven't figured out. We'll have to go get him. You're welcome to come along, Captain. It's not far. Just back through these tunnels."

"Thank you," Picard said. "I must say, I've been dreaming of getting the chance to explore the Stairway for years. I only wish the circumstances were different."

"I don't like the way you're hedging around, Captain," Nat said grimly as Anders clambered down into the hole. "Tell me: is Melinda all right? And what about Kay, and Kurak?"

Picard sighed deeply and carefully followed Nat down into the cool, dim tunnel.

"I'm sorry," he said. "There's been an attack. Nausicaans raided your compound. Why, we don't know. My companions and I came upon them just as they transported away. They kidnapped one of my officers and, we assume, Kurak's little girl. Kurak was quite seriously injured, but my companions are caring for her."

"And Melinda?" Nat pressed.

"I fear she may have been killed," Picard admitted.

Nat closed his eyes tightly and looked away.

"You're right, then, Captain," he said. "We should find Tu'Pari and head back to the compound right away."

"Hey, you two, what's the hold up?" Anders called from further down the tunnel.

"We're coming," Nat called back, and nodded for the captain to follow through the musty dimness.


"Listen you idiots!" Kahlestra yelled at the huddled prisoners. "When a metal man with a phaser rifle breaks you out of an Orion prison, you get up off your butts and you run! Now get up! Get up!"

She kicked and pulled at the nearest girl, who just huddled into a tighter ball and began to rock, slowly.

Kahlestra roared in frustration.

"What is wrong with these creeps!" she shouted. "Don't you jerks get it? We're escaping! This Soong guy here is breaking us out! You come with us, and you'll be free!"

The Orion guard laughed.

"You're wasting your breath, little Klingon," he said through a darkly amused smirk. "They're Skins. Skins don't run. They know, even if they try it, they'll never be free. Not ever. Not in here." He tapped at his forehead.

Data frowned, his concerned eyes darting around the dimly lit space. This bewildering reaction was beyond his experience. He had opened all the cages, deactivated all the force fields. Yet, of the eighty-six beings being held prisoner, only three had so far dared to step up and join him: the young Klingon, Kahlestra; an even younger human boy; and an adolescent Orion girl...neither of whom had yet spoken a word, or even lifted their eyes from the sand-sprinkled floor.

"What has been done to these people?" he demanded of the guard.

"I just sell 'em, as is," the Orion said. "I don't ask how they got that way."

The expression that creased the android's silvery face actually made the smug Orion cringe. Data turned to the prisoners.

"Please," he said. "I will not harm you. Allow me to take you away from this place. If you come, I can help you find your homes. Your families. I promise."

"Go away," one of the older women said. "Leave us be."

Other voices soon joined hers, rallying against the android for causing trouble, for putting them all in danger.

"Do you not understand?" Data asked, his bitter confusion lending a trace of desperation to his voice. "I can take you to safety."

When the protests continued, the android stepped over to the Orion guard and clamped his hand over a nerve cluster in the man's thick, green neck. The burly Orion slumped in his chair, unconscious, and Data stepped forward.

"Listen, please, all of you," he said, loud enough to cut through the angry noise and frightened whimpers. "I told the guard my name is Soong, but I am Lt. Commander Data, of the Federation starship Enterprise. I can offer you protection and refuge from your captors, but you must follow me. Quickly, before this Orion's partner and the Nausicaan return from the city hospital."

"You can't protect us, robot, Starfleet or not. So you might as well go," a bedraggled human teenager said bitterly. The prisoners around her muttered their agreement, and Data just stared uncomprehendingly.

"But…" he tried, but Kahlestra interrupted him.

"He's telling the truth, you know," she snapped at the huddled figures all around them. "My mother has been on the Enterprise. She met Data, and I've seen his image in the newsfeeds plenty of times. I don't know what happened to his skin, but I know his face, and I'd recognize those yellow eyes of his anywhere. This guy really is who he says he is."

Data made a face.

"Thanks…I think," he said.

"Any time," the girl said, and strode to his side. "All right, you brainwashed morons, this is your last chance. Are you coming with us, or do you plan to just rot there – to prove to these Orion losers that you really are just a sack of skins with no living souls to worry about?"

The silence that met her words was stifling.

Data swallowed and blinked, his sense of incomprehension shifting to an angry sort of pity.

"I am sorry you will not trust me," he said. "But, you are free. The choice to leave or stay is yours to make. Just know that all that is holding you here is yourselves."

There were a few low mutters, but no one made a move. After a long pause, Data shook his head and turned away.

"Which way, Commander?" Kahlestra asked as she and the two others who'd joined them followed Data into the labyrinthine tunnels.

"Down here," Data said as he walked. "We have one more individual to rescue. Do any of you know exactly where we are?"

"I'm pretty sure we're still on Nineveh IV," Kahlestra told him. "These tunnels look a lot like the ones under Sawrina the Great's Stairway." She sniffed the air and made a face. "Smell like them too…"

Data nodded, and led the way past heaps and piles of machines before turning into a narrower, darker tunnel.

"That is what I suspected," he said, and stopped in front of a small gouge in the wall, where a silver-green robot with one arm stood stock-still behind a shimmering force field.

"Hello, Howard," the android said. "I have returned for you."

"I am Howard," the robot told him. "I am here to serve."

"That is partially why I have come," Data said, already busy deactivating the buzzing energy field. "I may require your assistance."

"I am here to serve," Howard repeated, and stepped out of the gouge to join the little group as the force field dissipated.

"Incredible," Kahlestra muttered.

"Pardon?" Data asked as he led them back through the narrow tunnel, then turned toward a wider, brighter opening that sloped noticeably upward.

"Nothing," the young Klingon said. "It's just weird. I mean, no offence, but it seems like this robot has more sense than all those people we left back there." She shook her head. "Commander, do you think they'll make it out?"

"I don't know," Data said grimly. "I'm afraid I rather doubt it. But, what more can we do? They do not seem to want to be rescued."

"It's that crazy brainwashing!" Kahlestra said. "Not one of those people I talked to in there thinks they're worth spit. I mean it. They've all been—"

The tunnel shook violently around them. Data staggered, Howard toppled, and the three children found themselves tossed helplessly against the walls.

"It's a quake!" Kahlestra shouted.

"We must exit these tunnels immediately," Data said, sweeping the boy up onto his shoulders and pulling Howard and the young Orion to their feet. "Can you run?"

"Watch my dust," Kahlestra said, and raced ahead, the others close at her heels as the narrowing tunnel cracked all around them. Dust and sand spilled from the ceiling, and they could hear the rending of falling concrete filling the passageways behind them.

"Is that daylight?" the Orion girl asked, speaking for the first time.

"It would appear so," Data said in relief, lifting Howard and the girl along with the phaser rifle in his arms and putting on a final burst of speed. The escapees dashed out of the shaking tunnel just in time to see the opening they'd passed through collapse in a shocking implosion of sinking sand.

"By Kahless…" Kahlestra gasped.

Data lowered his charges, covered his mouth and turned away, his insides tight with guilt and horror as he struggled not to dwell on the faces of all those people he had left down there, that Orion, Nizik, he had knocked out with a nerve pinch…

But, the quake wasn't over yet. If anything, the shaking was worse out in the open. There was nowhere to hide, no shelter to take.

The children screamed in terror, huddling close to Data and Howard. Data wrapped his arms around them, trying his best to shield them with his body as the hot, choking sand swirled and jumped, painfully pelting their exposed faces and hands.

After what seemed like forever (though Data's internal chronometer insisted only eight point three six minutes had passed) the trembling subsided, and the sobbing children looked up.

Data stood slowly, taking stock of their surroundings.

"What I wouldn't give for a tricorder," he commented. "Or a direct link with the Federation's subspace network. As it is, we will have to navigate by the sun. Do any of you—"

Data felt a tug on his sleeve, and looked down. The little human boy was staring up at him through big, brown eyes.

"Yes?" the android asked.

The boy pointed to the right, and the group followed his finger—

Only to see a dark wall of wind and sand moving rapidly toward them.

Data suddenly understood the old expression 'his heart sank.'

"It's a sandstorm," he said flatly.

"A big one," the Orion girl said.

"Great!" Kahlestra exclaimed. "We escape those stinking Orions and that awful quake just in time to get our skin flayed off in a blasted sandstorm! Going back to school's almost starting to look good right about now."

Data stared at the approaching storm for another two seconds, then started moving quickly across the hot sand.

"Follow me," he said.

"Where are we going?" Kahlestra asked, she and the others jogging to keep up with his long, fast strides. "There's no way to escape that storm!"

"I said I would get you to safety, and I will," Data stated, then shot her a broad smile over his shoulder.

"Don't worry," he said. "I have an idea."

To Be Continued…

References include - TNG: The Most Toys; Descent; First Contact (movie).

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