Year: 2380

Stardate: 57246.3

"Ghost to Ba'Ku Center Control. Requesting landing vector." T'Mera twisted her head slightly, to make certain that B-4 was harnessed, and then turned to look out the front viewports again. The rings around the Ba'ku planet were visually impressive, but she would need to avoid flying through them. She could see the continent with the small Ba'ku village to the West, and the continent to the East of that, where the Ba'ku Medical Center had been built in 2377.

"Ba'ku Center Control to Ghost, affirmative on landing procedures. Vectoring coordinates being sent now."

"Ghost to Ba'Ku Center Control. Coordinates received. Beginning descent." T'Mera circumvented the rings, then adjusted the pitch of the ship. "Adjusting to one-fifth impulse, maneuvering thrusters engaged." As she spoke, the ship began to rattle and shake as it traveled through the ionosphere.

"This is an unexpected amount of turbulence." Data announced.

"It's normal, Data." She adjusted course again, "With so many bells and whistles on this ship, I needed to skimp somewhere, so I chose the inertial dampeners. Don't worry. We'll make it to the ground." She continued the procedural recitation, "Impulse engines shut off, vertical landing thrusters engaged."

"The laws of gravity would guarantee that we will make it to the ground, T'Mera. My concern is whether we get there in one piece or in several." Data quipped.

T'Mera snorted, "This is a great ship, and it's going to land just fine. It only feels like we're going to crash. You're just used to Galaxy class or Sovereign class ships, which ride so smoothly, they don't even install a chair belt, much less a harness." There was a downwards lurch and then the ship stopped moving. The roar of the thrusters died down to silence. "All engines and thrusters powering down. See? We made it." She rubbed her chin, "Hmm. I don't want the Ghost invisible here. What to choose…" She pressed a few buttons on the console, then unbuckled her harness.

B-4 followed suit, "Can I move now?"

"Yes, you can move." T'Mera told him, "Come with me to the cargo bay, please."

The android followed her to the cargo bay of the Ghost, and waited, while she packed boxes and bags onto an anti-grav sled.

T'Mera opened the outer door and pushed the sled outside, then inhaled deeply, "This planet has nice, crisp air." She looked at the blue sky, and the small wisps of white clouds that floated over the green mountains, "It's beautiful here." She waited for B-4 to stand next to her before she closed the cargo bay door of the Ghost. On the small remote, she tapped a few buttons and the chameleon-cloaked ship changed into a twentieth-century recreational ground vehicle with warp nacelles on each side of it.

"Your ship has holo-emitters on the outside?" Data was slightly amused, but his vocal box didn't carry inflection.

"Yep. I can hide it, or alter how it appears." T'Mera answered him, as she pushed the sled. The Ba'ku Medical Center's building had been constructed in such a way as to blend in with the surrounding landscape. The siding resembled rock formations, and green ivy snaked its way down and around the four stories. Gardens and small farms surrounded the center, with a path leading to the main entrance.

B-4 obediently followed her, taking in the scenery.

A young woman with cornsilk blonde hair and bright blue eyes moved to meet T'Mera just inside the entrance. "I'm Ba'iba. Welcome to the Ba'ku Medical Center. I'll be your caregiver during your stay here." Her red and white striped uniform denoted her status as a patient's aide.

T'Mera held up her right hand with the Vulcan salute, "Live long and prosper, Ba'iba. I'm T'Mera Chipman, as you know, and this is B-4." she indicated the android next to her.

"Oh." Ba'iba widened her eyes at the pale-skinned android, "We only gave you a single bed. I'll have them give you a double." She tapped her fingers on the small PADD in her hand. "Follow me to your residence. Since you have specific power requirements, your unit is the one normally reserved for VIPs."

T'Mera pushed the sled and followed the woman, while making certain that B-4 remained close by. "Thank you. I'm sure everything will be sufficient." As they walked, she noted the locations of more gardens, a therapy and fitness center, and a few restaurants and shops beneath an atrium. "Quite a lovely facility."

They reached the room, and Ba'iba held the door open so the sled would fit through. T'Mera began to unpack everything, setting up the computers, displays and equipment on the tables and desks. Once the sled was clear, Ba'iba placed it vertically in the closet. "I'll be checking on you four times a day. You'll see the doctor tomorrow, and then I'll be given your regimen. The replicator is right here, or, if you feel up to walking, there's restaurants around the atrium which serve food grown in the gardens. The communications shuttle leaves each morning at eight. The white buttons are call buttons, for non-emergencies, and the red are for emergencies."

"Thank you, Ba'iba." T'Mera gave her a smile as she continued to set up the equipment. "I should be fine for now."

Ba'iba stared for moment at B-4, then bowed her head, "I'll be back at three to see how you're doing." She turned and closed the door behind her.

T'Mera looked at the android, "Do you two require anything to feel at home? We'll be here for a few years."

B-4 stared into a mirror, seemingly entertained by his own reflection.

Data replied, "Neither of us require anything, and they had emptied out my quarters on the Enterprise before I was sent to Daystrom. I am not even certain what has become of any of my personal belongings."

"I'll send a message out on the shuttle, asking after it, if you wish." T'Mera began to place small devices along the wall, spaced fifteen centimeters apart.

"That is acceptable, thank you." Data told her, then asked, "Are those holo-emitters?"

The left side of T'Mera's mouth lifted slightly, "Yes, they are. I never go anywhere without some. I know that pure holo-displays never caught on, but I like them."

"T'Mera?" Data spoke hesitantly.

"Yes, Data?" she paused in her work to look at the android.

"Would it be acceptable with you if we interface tonight?" Data was able to briefly see her as B-4 turned to examine the next shiny object.

T'Mera resumed plugging in the various displays and equipment, "That should be fine. We can do it before I go to sleep." By the time she finished setting up her workstation, the patient aide had returned.

Ba'iba knocked, then entered, "How are we doing?"

T'Mera replied to the woman, "Everything seems to work as it should. Thank you."

Ba'iba leaned in and whispered to T'Mera, "Is he anatomically correct?" she indicated B-4.

T'Mera looked over at B-4, then shrugged, "I don't know. I didn't check."

Data could hear the whisper, "Yes." he answered.

T'Mera corrected her answer, "Oh. Yes. He's anatomically correct, it seems."

Ba'iba giggled softly, "Sorry. I was just curious. Is there anything you need?"

T'Mera shook her head, "No. I'll probably eat something, then get to work. Thank you, again." She rolled one of the chairs in the room over to the workstation, waited until Ba'iba left, then gestured to the android, "B-4, come over here. It's time to reattach the brain monitors."

B-4 shuffled over to her, then sat in the chair as she placed the monitor devices in his various ports.

"Why an anatomically correct prototype?" T'Mera mused.

Data offered, "To make us seem more human."

"That doesn't make sense." T'Mera clucked her tongue, "I could see making you humaniform, but what your creator did goes much further than that. Pores, breathing, tear ducts, a penis… Why give you things that serve no real purpose?"

"I have used my penis. It serves a purpose." Data replied. "Although I do understand your confusion on the matter."

T'Mera placed the cap over B-4's head, covering the monitors, "He placed it a higher priority than making certain your programming was secure, and far higher than your hobbies. Which have you used more, your violin or your penis?"

"Violin." Data responded. "I concede the point to you."

T'Mera switched on the continual holographic display of B-4's positronic neural net, with Data's neural net also visible in red, "There we go. Nothing says "home" like having your neural scan hovering in the air." She walked over to the replicator, "Cornbread with butter." then took the food to the desk, sitting down to work while eating. She tapped a button on one of the PADDs near her, "Work log, add timestamp. Doctor Chipman recording work on one Commander Data."

She picked up a stylus with her right hand and pressed it against the large display of code, while making her log entry, "Soong seems to have developed his own programming environment, which means his source and libraries are unique to him and the androids. I'll have to write my own compiler and debugger, once I figure it out. To exacerbate this, it's not even a straight programming language. It's as if he combined linear programming with brainwave generation somehow. I stand no chance of being able to create a dynamic mapper, and will now begin the process of trying to rebuild it."

Data kept silent while T'Mera logged her process, catching glimpses of the displays whenever B-4 looked in that direction. He could see the activity in red and blue on the display, and attempted to calculate the mapping of B-4's neural net.

He could hear a bird making a 'kraa' sound. T'Mera's body seemed to be twitching and jerking about wildly. The wall by the desk flashed back and forth from wood paneling to the gray and beige corridor with black wall displays from the Galaxy-class starships. Images began to flash in one second intervals:

Raven flapping its wings…

"Do you KNOW desire?!"

His own face with blue eyes…

"Ahh ahh ahh ohhhh yessss"

A strong, blonde woman sitting atop his lap, bouncing, gripping his shoulders…

"I love you, brother"

The blonde woman, lifeless, on a biobed…

"I feel… I love you, father…"

A woman with Vulcan features, kissing him passionately…

"Data, dance with me…"

"Data, what the HELL are you doing!?" T'Mera swiveled in the chair to face the android, with an alarmed expression.

Data's disorientation caused a delay in his answer, "I…" His internal chronometer had progressed much farther than he thought it should have. "Malfunction… stand by…" Slowly, he returned to minimal functions. "I attempted to help you map B-4's neural net, but something went wrong."

T'Mera bit her lower lip, frowning, "B-4's brain won't be able to handle those kinds of complex calculations. You need to try to not think that hard." She pointed to the neural display, "You just overclocked him and nearly caused a thermal overload in the entire positronic matrix. If you keep doing that, you run the risk of burning out his circuits and possibly causing a cascade failure and wipe."

"Ah." Data responded to her, "It would explain why I feel slow, at present. I am sorry for nearly causing a shutdown."

B-4 warbled, "I saw a bird."

"Just keep a low profile." T'Mera turned back to her displays, "I'm not even sure how you're working in there, just on a basic sentience level."

"I will endeavor to not perform a dental examination on a donated equine, Doctor." Data told her. "I will be satisfied just to be functioning enough to communicate."

"Do you want me to put some entertainment on for you and B-4? I'm going to need to concentrate on this. Soong's programming style is like finding the works of Shakespeare typed by infinite monkeys, but scrambled." T'Mera let out a long sigh.

"Not at present, thank you." Data replied, still shaken from the barrage of visions.

B-4 frowned slightly, "Did something bad happen?"

T'Mera got out of the chair and rummaged through one of her bags. "No, B-4. Nothing bad happened." She pulled out a square container and brought it over to the small table next to B-4. "This is just in case you want to play with something colorful." She pulled off the lid and shook the container, "Interlocking shaped blocks." She left it by the android and returned to her seat.

Data remained silent as T'Mera worked for the next few hours. B-4 eventually began to play with the blocks, although he didn't manage to build anything meaningful out of them. Data noted that their internal chronometer was nearing nineteen hundred hours planet time, and listened for the caregiver to return.

"Doctor Chipman?" Ba'iba returned to the room on time and called in before entering.

T'Mera looked up from her work, "Yes? Oh, I suppose it's been four hours. Come in."

Ba'iba glanced at all the equipment, "I need to place a vitals monitor on you. It won't hurt, and it will stay on, even if you bathe or soak in the lake." She held up a three centimeter, circular device. She crossed the room to where the holographer was seated. "This way, the nurses at the telemetry station will be able to see how you are."

T'Mera nodded to the woman, "All right. Slap it on."

Ba'iba unfastened the shoulder strap of T'Mera's dress, then placed the device in the center of her breastbone. "That should do it." She stole a glance at B-4 again, then turned back to T'Mera, "Do you need anything else, tonight, before I go off duty?" She fastened the strap, again.

"Yes. Please have this sent out on the next message shuttle." T'Mera replied, handing Ba'iba a message crystal. "I'll probably eat and turn in soon, myself."

"Very good." Ba'iba took the crystal, bowed her head, then turned and exited the room, closing the door behind her.

T'Mera rubbed the bridge of her nose, then walked over to the replicator, "Plomeek broth, ninety three degrees." She sat down in a chair and rolled it over to the space next to B-4, "How are the two of you doing?"

B-4 replied, "I am... Fine." He continued to stack blocks in random patterns.

Data responded, "I am functioning within minimal parameters. The more pressing question is how you are."

T'Mera smiled as she sipped the broth, "Still functioning within expected parameters. I'm pondering indulging in a hot water shower before I get ready for the interface and bed."

"Many humanoid lifeforms do find such an activity to be relaxing." Data agreed.

T'Mera finished the broth, then stood up and grabbed one of the bags she had yet to unpack. She headed to the dresser next to the bed, unzipped the duffel, then opened each drawer and loaded it with her clothing. She stuffed the empty bag next to the dresser, then pulled out a sleeveless nightshirt. She looked back at the seated android, then walked into the bathroom.

T'Mera hung the nightshirt on one of the hooks on the wall, then unfastened her dress and removed it. A stack of clean towels had been placed on a rack next to the combination shower and bathtub unit, and soap dispensers were attached to the wall in the shower and by the sink. She stepped into the tub and turned on the water and shower head, adjusting it to a relaxing heated setting. As she dispensed some soap into her hands and began to lather, she heard talking.

"No, B-4. She will wish for privacy."

T'Mera turned to see B-4 through the glass door, half a meter away. Startled, she yelled, "B-4! You have to stay out there. Your monitors aren't supposed to get wet!"

"I apologize, T'Mera." Data spoke up, "I tried to get him to sit back down. I assure you that he is not being salacious."

T'Mera sighed and returned to washing. "It's like having a hundred kilogram toddler." She rinsed off the soap while B-4 busied himself with testing the faucets in the sink, the soap dispenser and the flush lever on the commode. She turned off the water in the shower, then grabbed a towel and dried herself off. "I suppose I shouldn't be expecting any privacy."

"I apologize again, for that." Data replied, "If it is any consolation, I am well aware of the varied daily functions of biological organisms, even if I have never experienced such functions myself."

T'Mera finished toweling off, then pushed at B-4, "Excuse me. I need to use what you're standing near." She attempted nonchalant conversation with Data, "So, your own system is entirely self-contained for the most part? Even if you eat and drink food at a social occasion?"

"That is correct." Data told her, "It is very rare that I have to ingest anything, and what I do ingest gets broken down and used by my systems entirely, with no need to excrete any waste products. I do have some ability to evaporate extra liquids through the pores in my skin, if needed, although I do not sweat in the strictest sense of the term."

"Interesting." T'Mera moved to retrieve her nightshirt from the hook, "Far more convenient than being biological." She tugged the nightshirt on, being careful with her left arm. "Come on out, B-4. Time to get you ready for bed. I want to be lying down for the interface, in case I get dizzy."

B-4 obediently followed, then stopped next to the bed.

T'Mera bent down to remove the android's boots, "No wearing shoes to bed. We should take this jumpsuit off, as well. I hope they put undershorts on you."

"I believe we did." Data stated in the even tone of the voice box, while T'Mera removed B-4's gold jumpsuit.

"That's a relief." She guided the android to the bed, "B-4, you lay down on the right side of the bed, next to the wall. Your head goes on the pillow closest to the wall."

B-4 did as instructed, then asked, "Why?"

T'Mera climbed onto the left side, then pulled the covers over both of them, "This is called going to sleep. You'll be laying here next to me, and I'll be interfacing with Data. After that, I'll be sleeping. Is that acceptable to you?"

B-4 seemed to ponder the question, then replied, "Yes."

Data spoke up, "I am unsure as to which action caused you to inject us. It could have been the kiss or the hand squeeze. We should attempt both."

"Data, are you sure you're not being salacious?" T'Mera joked, then leaned over to kiss B-4's lips, "Goodnight, B-4."

B-4 replied softly, "Goodnight."

T'Mera rested her head on her pillow, then wrapped her left hand around B-4's right hand and squeezed, concentrating on the implants in her arm. Tubules shot out of her forearm, injecting B-4, and as she closed her eyes, the environment around them changed.

Curved corridors lined with a wood rail and shiny black display panels and soft white light stretched out in front and in back of them. The textured loop carpet beneath their feet was blue with beige on both wall edges. Orange double-doors were spaced every few meters down the hall.

T'Mera glanced over at Data, "Let me guess… it was your turn to design the Borg-generated virtual reality?"

Data blinked and looked around, "It would seem so. I apologize for the mundane environment."

"It's as good as any." T'Mera began to walk, "The Galaxy class ships were such a headache for me, although in some ways, they remind me of the early times. The more innocent times of holography programming." She chuckled, "The days of standing in the emitter testing room with binoculars and walking backwards on a tropical beach to see where the footsteps in the sand change from material to simulated visual effect. Oh, and Turtle Boy. I wonder whatever became of him?"

Data strolled along the corridor next to her, "Turtle Boy? Was he part human and part cryptodira?"

T'Mera laughed, then shook her head, "It was a nickname. He was earning extra credit at the Institute by helping us with quality assurance. We were having trouble figuring out how to test the limits of the holosuite's ability to compartmentalize and deal with multiple living observers all moving independently. One day, he came in with a basket filled with turtles and proceeded to place one little turtle in each grid. He was henceforth known as Turtle Boy."

"A creative solution." Data smiled very slightly, then stopped in place.

T'Mera stopped walking and turned to look at the android, "Is something wrong?"

Data's brows knitted together, and his yellow eyes glanced downward and to the left, then back, "I can perform complex calculations again."

One of T'Mera's slanted eyebrows shot up. "Oh? I'll have to remember to check the neural net monitor for this time, to see what you're doing. It's best not to, though, in case you're hurting B-4." She studied his face for a moment, "Data, you said you had wanted to speak to me for twelve years and seven months, right?"

"That is correct." Data tilted his head, regarding her.

T'Mera began to walk, "How come you didn't send a subspace message, then?"

Data matched her pace through the corridor, "It… did not occur to me to do so."

She chuckled, "That's kind of funny." At the confused expression on his face, she held out her right hand to him, "Don't feel bad. I didn't send you any messages, either."

Data looked down at the offered hand, then grasped it with his left hand. They walked and talked for a while, until she began to fall asleep. He had B-4 remove the tubules, and then spent the rest of the night listening to T'Mera's breathing patterns as she slept.