"I'm scared." Bastion's plaintive voice filled the bridge.
Taryn was shocked, while she had created Bastion she had never encouraged him to call her mother. While she could see the appeal and certainly felt maternal towards him, she didn't want him to feel dependent or imprint upon her, especially as she was mortal and she hoped he would outlive her, possibly by centuries. She didn't give him the gift of aspiration that made Data so special, instead she gifted him with the secure knowledge that whatever he was or became was exactly what he should be, Bastion. She knew he was capable of feelings, it was fundamental to his code. He was designed to be as much a part of the crew as any organic being on board, his emotions only tempered by his sense of duty, his professionalism, his loyalty. He wasn't a cold voice from a wall with an irritating habit of non-disclosure and stock responses, this ship was alive.
This ship was dying. The shields were failing, they were being towed in the direction of the Annex by a thing that wouldn't respond or be reasoned with. Just like Haftel, she thought mirthlessly. Structural integrity was dropping like a rock under the torsion of the tractor and there wasn't a thing anyone could do besides pump more power into the shields and fields from anywhere she could steal it and buy time.
The ship, her ship, was terrified. It was a perfectly natural response, she was all but petrified herself. What she had never expected was for the ship to begin pleading for comfort and reassurance. Like many mortally wounded young men have on the battlefield since time began he was calling for his mother, calling for her. It broke her heart. She had offered him words of comfort, woefully inadequate words she had to admit, but then she doubted the words existed for what she needed him to know. She couldn't even hold her child as he died, she realised as tears coursed down her face.
Data, the being her offspring had chosen as a father had done all he could. The core was now only held in place by cables that he hoped would break away when the ship broke up allowing the essence of Bastion to drift in the void intact. There was a chance it would work, she prayed it would work not just for the remarkable soul she had conceived but for Hayley and the many other holographic beings that had been stripped forcibly from their digital homes and uploaded to the ships core.
She was uncertain as to why Bastion had chosen Data, although she couldn't fault his taste in parent or protector. Small wonder Reg had been suspicious something was going on between her and Data, he probably thought he'd been actively involved in his creation as anyone would. Quite what he imagined was anyone's guess but the reality was far from romantic. She had conceived and birthed her creation entirely on her own, bathed in sweat, squatted in the hot, cramped core chamber with her foot wedged against the wall to try and relieve cramp and get comfortable… just like an organic birth now she came to think of it, minus the bearing down and squeezing him out of her tuppence. Considering the core was five metres wide, fifteen broad and two decks tall she was glad of that. Her baby sister had been ten pounds and still hadn't heard the end of it from their mother.
Speaking of the other man in her life she could hear how scared he was too. He hadn't even noticed he'd stopped stammering when he spoke to her but he'd stammered over his communicator. Things were getting dicey in Engineering, she could see it on her console and he was down there alone. She knew he was a capable engineer, among the best she'd ever encountered but he lacked confidence to the degree he couldn't always function. God knows what his parents were thinking. She was no councillor or psychologist but held a Master's Degree in Psychosocial Science and recognised a developmental stammer when she heard one. Hearing one in an adult was almost unheard of in the 24th century as, even if the cause was genetic children would commonly grow out of it or get treatment early on. Had they really let the son they had proudly named after his father and grandfather reach adulthood without actually listening to him speak? Or had they just chosen to ignore it just as everyone in Starfleet had until he practically imploded a photonic blaze of glory aboard the Enterprise. No, in todays enlightened society the crew had ridiculed him, referred to him as a vegetable and been surprised when he retreated to an artificial womb on the holodeck. Taryn was not at all that way inclined but if she got out of this alive and ever met Deanna Troi she planned to kiss her, frankly and fully on the lips for stepping in rather than seeing him dishonourably discharged, married woman or not. If Reg survived she'd even let him watch.
The thought of him, twenty metres aft and a deck down, the other side of a blast door was too much for her to bear. She wanted to call him, but she had no idea what she could say that he didn't already know.
Data was putting an emergency transporter armband on for her. She sniffed and wiped her eyes
"I've been dressing myself for quite a while now." she told him.
"I want to be certain the mother of my child gets to the Chekov in one piece." He smiled. She straightened the band on his sleeve in return. "I am sorry, had there been time I would have given him this but he had already brought down the blast door…"
She took the armband from his hand. "I know. Thank you." She forced a smile. "I don't know why but the Odyssey is ignoring the departing craft. It's going to be a tight squeeze on board, even for a Flyer-class but at least there's a shower and a crapper I suppose." She sniffed, "Out of all the battles I lost to Haftel I'm really glad I won the Chekov. Geordi will be at the limit of transporter range in 2 minutes, 25.376 seconds."
Data laughed at her parody of him. "For a cyberneticist you make a remarkable Ops Officer." he said warmly.
"It's all I ever wanted to be," she told him, "just like my childhood hero." she added confidentially.
He hugged her as though she were the sister he never had, the sister his mother had disturbingly wanted him to be. "When we get to the Chekov I will introduce you to my mother."
"Don't you think the poor woman has been through enough?" Taryn joked as Data walked to the command chair. She unzipped her top and slipped the armband meant for her lover into her bra. Not so much next to her heart as touching her boob. She hoped he'd appreciate the sentiment.
"Mr Barclay, stand-by." Data ordered.
"Aye sir." Barclay replied. He sounded calm and confident, far more confident that she felt in her ability to keep him from being blown into space.
"Prior to La Forge, do you have a transporter lock on Barclay? His signal is intermittent from here and I need to re-route power from the transporters to the shields." she asked.
"I can't get a lock on him either Taryn, his proximity to the warp core is scattering his signal. I'm gonna keep trying though." Geordi replied.
Data glanced at Taryn. "Good luck Mr Barclay. Three Two One MARK."
"The hatch is open. Warp core ejected. The force field is holding." Taryn reported. "The tractor beam has been disrupted by the proximity of the core."
"Moving us away at maximum impulse." Data stated, using the terminal next to his seat.
"Structural integrity is down to forty-eight percent, shields at forty-five. The core will impact on the enemy shields in ten seconds."
"All hands brace for impact." Data ordered, playing it by the book despite the fact there were only three crewmembers on board. "Adjusting our attitude to allow us to be carried on the shockwave."
"Hopefully." Taryn added silently.
"Chekov to Bastion, I still can't get a lock on Barclay." Geordi advised them.
The ship lurched as the warp core impacted on the Odyssey's shields and the containment field collapsed into a blinding flash of light that dissolved the shields and engulfed the secondary hull. The nacelles span in separate directions out of control, ripping through space, one missing the fleeing Bastion by inches, the other slamming into the hull of one of the smaller ships which exploded, scattering debris across a wide area. In the belly of the Odyssey, its own warp core breached obliterating what remained of the ship leaving nothing but floating debris.
"Which ship was that?" Data asked as the Bastion was rocked and buffeted. His forced calm slipping for the first time since he assumed command.
"The Uhura," Taryn replied, gripping her console. "Structural collapse is imminent, shields are down, we will lose power to emergency force fields in one minute 38 seconds."
"Geordi do you have a lock on Barclay." Data called.
"Negative, there's too much radiation in the core chamber."
"Activate emergency beam out." Data said and looked towards Taryn, with shock he realised she was standing right beside him. She activated his armband and stepped back as he beamed form the ship. She turned and ran.
"Bastion, I need you to give me a countdown to the field on the warp chamber hatch collapsing."
…
"Radiation, just what I need." Barclay thought as he heard the warning echo through the empty chamber. Today was just getting better and better and with that warning any hope of being beamed out of the compartment evaporated. To think he'd naively considered the worst was over when a nacelle from the Odyssey whistled past the hatch at close range. He knew he was going to die, not in the hysterical, neurotic way he often thought he was going to die. This was really it. He would either be crushed to death when the hull collapsed like a tin can, be expelled from the ship under decompression, suffocate when the life support failed or be turned into southern fried Barclay when the radiation got high enough.
None of it was what he had planned during breakfast. He may have been talking about food and fixing the replicators but he was predominantly thinking about sex, the smell of her neck, the way she'd shiver when he kissed just the right place below her ear. The things he loved the most about her were just the things he could never have replicated with photons or known from a painting. He couldn't get her out of his mind and didn't want to.
It would just be him on the ship now, and Data of course. He'd clearly assumed command and was just the type to go down with the ship. It made him worry, who would be there for Taryn to turn to if she lost them both? The Doctor he supposed. He'd known her since she was assigned to assess his sentience after Voyager returned to Earth. The Doctor had been fretting about the 'iron-fisted bitch' of a trouble-shooter that was being sent from the Daystrom Annex for weeks. It wasn't till later she told him she'd signed off on his request for citizenship before she even met him. It was merely a formality as far as she was concerned. The letters of recommendation from those who knew him, Barclay included, had been more than enough and she didn't even extend the standard 'invitation' to be assessed at the Annex. Barclay finally met her a year later and put the all too familiar face to the name. The Doctor still wasn't a citizen however, the mills of Federation bureaucracy grind slowly; yet they grind exceeding small, to paraphrase Longfellow. But thanks to Taryn his status as a life-form was certainly more secure.
He suddenly wondered what would happen to the painting. He was an only child and there was no-one else for his father to leave it to. Who ever got it he hoped they would love it as much as he had and that they would never, ever meet the real thing. Of course he hoped she would find someone else and be happy, despite the fact it felt like a cardiac stress test whenever he thought of it. She was far too young and lovely not to be adored and worshipped by someone worthy.
He felt the air pressure shift, the field was starting to fail and that would be it. Well, there was no point in clinging on and delaying the inevitable so he relaxed his grip on the framework, only steadying himself as the ship was buffeted in the wake of the exploding Odyssey.
A noise surprised him, he turned his head to see the blast doors open on both levels of the core chamber. That shouldn't happen, not that it mattered. He could hear and feel that the Bastion was not long for this plane of existence. Poor Bastion, he'd hardly had a chance to live.
A noise above him drew his attention, it was the sound of someone's hands grasping a hollow metal tube, like the framework above him. They slapped it hard. He looked up and hoped to all that was holy that he was hallucinating. Taryn was swinging around the cross support that braced the two stanchions with the momentum of her jump. She released and caught the bar next to it, let go with one hand and turned then folded in half and braced her feet on the bar. The force field failed at the bottom of her rotation and she crumpled, gripping the pole with her thighs as the air escaping from engineering blew against her body. His tenuous grip on the structure failed and he frantically reached for a hand-hold as he was blown up the chamber towards the gaping hatch until he felt something grasp his wrist so hard he thought it might break, it was a green hand. He grasped her wrist in return and managed to somehow wrap his other arm and legs around the stanchion and clung on. She'd had the same idea as him and was wearing a respirator mask.
With alarm he saw the chairs from main engineering heading their way. One made a clean exit, the other slammed into her shoulder and arm, shattering the transporter armband and blood spurted from her collarbone before the chair completed its race to the void above them. He maintained the grip on her wrist but he could see she was struggling to remain conscious and was now only holding on with her legs, her other arm hanging limp and useless. As artificial gravity failed her blood began floating around her like dark green, disturbingly dark green marbles. He'd had a marble like that as a child…
"Focus Broccoli." he thought, giving himself a mental slap. Now was not the time to go on a hypoxic reverie. Artificial gravity had failed, that meant they were weightless. It took less effort to move both himself and her, although he still had to fight the power of the decompression, but the rush of air blowing them out of the ship was ultimately going to stop as the emergency system shut down life-support to the compartment. It would be much easier to move when this occurred, aside from the fact they would be in a… No, he pushed the words 'vacuum' and 'void' from his mind and began trying to work his way down the stanchion. The number of orbiting green bubbles was increasing at an alarming rate and he realised she was no longer gripping the framework or his wrist, but he would not let her go. He'd float out of the damn ship with her before he would let go. He felt another cross-member with his foot that ran all the way to the upper walkway. He didn't need to go that far, he just needed to get them to the other side of the emergency bulkhead that bisected the beam and close the blast doors. It sounded simple when he put it like that, but it really wasn't.
The rush of air continued to tear at him and that meant either the life-support hadn't cut off or the compartment was breached into another section and decompressing via the open hatch. Either way the mask wasn't helping him breathe as the pressure of the wind against his chest wouldn't let him inhale. She was slipping from his grasp. He locked his knee around the framework and pulled her into his arms to get a better grip on her. It was then he felt it against his chest, his experience of breasts was not as extensive as he would like but even he could recognise when a bosom didn't feel right and hers felt like the outline of a transporter armband. He didn't know if it would work, the compartment was still irradiated but if he didn't act soon he was going to black out. He shoved his hand into her bra and activated the transporter.
He materialised in what looked like the Delta Flyer still holding her, gasping for breath and panting, pulled off her mask first and checked that she was breathing. He felt relief until he realised his uniform was soaked in her blood. It was spurting from her shoulder with every beat of her heart. He didn't cope well with blood in any colour, he'd even felt a bit queasy at the sight of Data oozing hydraulic fluid.
A woman with grey hair that he didn't recognise appeared at his shoulder.
"Lay her down and get pressure on that wound." she instructed in a mild Irish accent. She yanked a box from a storage compartment and lifted the younger woman's feet on to it. "Data, I need a hand, I've got one with an arterial bleed and one about to faint."
"I'm not." Barclay protested, looking a little green around the gills. "I won't faint." He meant it, but he was by no means certain he wouldn't vomit. He was maintaining pressure on her shoulder which was going someway to stem the pulsating flow of blood but he was acutely aware that part of her collarbone was emerging through her uniform between his fingers and her upper arm was at an unnatural angle. She looked terrifyingly pale, she could almost pass for a Vulcan. She was bleeding to death, if she hadn't already.
Data ripped the shoulder from her uniform, placed his hands over his and sunk his fingers between Reg's and into the wound. "I have it. You can let go." he told him. "Geordi, call The Doctor from the aft compartment and set environmental controls to maximum recycle and scrub." he shouted. Reg hadn't thought of that, when she lost consciousness she started producing pheromones. Reg removed his mask, she couldn't make suggestions while she was unconscious at least.
"This is your friend Taryn I take it? The one you were swearing your head off about when you beamed in?" Juliana asked, "And you must be Mr Barclay."
"I already apologised for that mother." Data told her as he maintained pressure on his friends shoulder.
"What she did was no worse than you did on the Scimitar, Data." La Forge shouted from the pilot's seat. "Now you know what it feels like. The Bastion just broke up. I'm scanning for the computer core."
"Are you alright?" the woman, Dr Tainer he assumed, asked Barclay as The Doctor appeared and set to work.
"I, Is she going to be okay?" Barclay asked desperately as he watched The Doctor.
"She's lost a lot of blood, something we can't replace at the moment, but she's fighting." The Doctor told him as he grabbed an instrument from his medkit. "Her subclavian artery is punctured rather than severed which makes it easier to fix. Can you move your index finger three millimetres to the right Data, and when I've fixed it I'm going to kill the pair of you."
"You'd better get in the shower," Juliana told Barclay, "It's not healthy to share bodily fluids."
"Mother?" Data gave her a look.
"Oh! In that case don't worry." she gave Barclay a knowing smile. "Now I know why she wouldn't leave the ship without you. This one never gives his mother the full story." she rolled her eyes. "Just like his father." she added angrily.
"Perhaps you could administer some hyronalin to Mr Barclay?" Data suggested to his mother.
She rummaged in the emergency medkit.
"This hypo is empty." she reported.
"Is there any adrenalin?" The Doctor asked.
She was way ahead of him, "Also empty."
The Doctor looked up at Reg, "How many rads?"
"200 or so." Barclay told him. "That was the last warning I heard. Not fatal."
"No, but you're going to get radiation sickness without treatment. That's her artery repaired. What hit her?"
"One of the chairs from Engineering when the compartment decompressed." Barclay told him. She opened the blast doors and…"
She started to come round, she groaned and reached for her injured shoulder but Data caught her wrist.
"If I were still an officer I would have you court martialled." Data said angrily.
She looked around in alarm then relaxed as she saw Barclay and smiled sweetly at him despite the fact he was drenched in her blood. "Green suits you." she said softly.
"It looks a lot better inside you." he snapped, "What the hell did you think you were doing you crazy minx?
"What was I doing? You weren't even holding on you daft idiot." she retorted weakly.
"I was resigned to my fate, taking comfort from the fact Data would have got you off the ship," Barclay shot the android a filthy look, "And I look up and see you swinging overhead like a crazed monkey."
"Do not blame me." Data protested, "She sneaked up on me and activated my armband. I…"
"Gentlemen, and I'm using the term loosely, you are upsetting the patient." Juliana chided. "You, shower, now, you're a walking biohazard and it will help decontaminate you." she told Barclay, "And you start cleaning up this mess on the floor… and walls and…" she ordered Data. "You have remarkable stroke volume young lady."
Barclay shot Taryn a look as he headed to the facilities. He was livid with her for taking stupid risks in a collapsing ship even though it had saved his life and he would have done the same for her in a heartbeat. She could have died in his arms, again. She returned his gaze then crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him. He snorted, trying not to laugh and headed for the shower.
…
"The wind will change and you'll stick like that." Juliana warned her as she began to clean her up. "I know you're putting a brave face on it for your man, but you're not looking good."
"You're in hypovolemic shock and we're at least four hours from the Enterprise. It's time to heal like a Vulcan." The Doctor told her.
"I don't want him to think…I'll look dead and…"
"If you don't go into trance, you won't just look dead." The Doctor said bluntly. "You'll very shortly be dead."
"We'll look after him." the older woman promised and stroked her hair. The Doctor scanned his patient as she slipped into a trance and her vital signs dropped to levels only visible by tricorder.
"Doc, Dr Ootani is complaining of a slight headache and demanding to see you." Dan said, sticking his head through the door from the aft of the ship.
"What?" The Doctor snapped. "Tell him to take an aspirin and call me in the morning." he replied. "And see if there's any hyronalin in the storage unit back there, adrenalin will do at a pinch. What the hell were they thinking? No sickbay, no CMO just a slimy Mark V and they don't even bother to refill the emergency medical supplies. What kind of ship did we get abducted on?"
The android woman flew to her feet at the sound of the door and grasped an overall clad Barclay by the upper arms. "She's in a trance, she's fine." she explained as horror spread over his face. She led him over to the aft station and sat him down.
"She's in shock and we're too far from any synthesised blood. Her body is concentrating on healing itself, it's her best chance. Look." The Doctor showed him the tricorder readings. "She's still with us."
"I didn't know she could do that." Barclay frowned. "I think I'm…" he started to gag and Juliana grabbed him a bag and handed it to him in the nick of time. "That's not a good sign is it? If I'm already getting sick?" he asked The Doctor.
"Don't worry too much, the technical term we doctors use for a patient like you is a honker." The Doctor told him. "This compartment looks like someone went berserk with a chainsaw in the holonovel Vulcan Love Slaves 4. It's enough to make anyone queasy." He picked Taryn up gently and looked at Data and Juliana. "I'll need to repair these fractures on the biobed, it looks a tricky job and I'll need a hand with some traction from someone." Data nodded.
"Data, I've got the core on tow, but it's inactive and looks like it's taken a few knocks. I don't know how intact it is." Geordi said as he stepped up from the pilot's seat. "Holy sh.., I knew you guys were having an emergency but this place looks a mess." he looked at Taryn looking deathly pale and apparently dead in The Doctors arms, "Is she okay?" then he heard the sound of vomiting. "You guys seem to have this under control so I'll be in the cockpit." Geordi said and beat a hasty retreat. He'd seen Barclay toss his cookies enough times to earn a t-shirt on this trip already and handled more than enough drama from Starfleet's newest couple and today, he was the pilot, it made him exempt.
Data exchanged a glance with his mother and returned to removing blood spatter from the ceiling with a sonic cleaner.
"Are all your adventures like this?" Juliana asked.
"More often than you would think, but we usually have a more established hierarchical structure." Data replied.
"I see, you usually have someone to do your bitch work for you." Juliana chided cheekily.
"That is not what I meant." Data stated. "While we were on the Bastion getting fired upon some of us fell into our former roles as bridge officers and it was… orderly. This is not."
"You mean you like to be in charge." she laughed.
"Yes." Data replied, "Is that a bad thing?" he frowned at her.
"No, it suits you, you're very good at it. You get that from me, your father was quite frankly a pain in the arse in a crisis." she said curtly, "I loved the man but God knows he was a panicker." She paused thoughtfully, "You know, I'm in this predicament now for that very reason."
"Mother…" Data pleaded.
"Am I your mother Data? Or am I your sister?" she asked.
"Would you like me to leave?" Barclay asked looking up from his sick bag, feeling awkward.
"Of course you are my mother." Data argued, "He used synaptic scanning. You are the same person you always were."
"That's as maybe, but the fact is I can't help but think that he didn't really try to save me. That he just turned me into his next project and then got bored and moved on to the next one. That's why I left him, I didn't doubt that he loved me but I was always second to his work. What do you do Mr Barclay, what's your specialty?"
"Um, well I'm…" He wasn't happy to be put on the spot and it showed, "I'm a systems diagnostic engineer but I…I specialise in holography and communications."
"And what does your young lady do?"
"She works for a dictator who treats her like a slave and sends her into life threatening situations on a daily basis to provide him with sentient beings to experiment on." he said bluntly.
"While that is true," Data added, "She is an expert in artificial intelligence with a specialty in psychosocial development and is one of the best Ops Officers I have ever worked with."
"Really?" Reg asked, "I mean I know all that but she's that good at Ops?"
"Were I still a commissioned officer and she not adamant she wishes to resign I would petition Captain Picard to make her part of the bridge crew, and I am not just saying that because she is my friend."
"So, Mr Barclay, would you expect her to give up her career, her research to work on yours?"
"No. I have told her I want her to resign, but she'd already decided to anyway."
"Mother, I was that research." Data protested.
"Yes, and I love you dearly but I gave up a lot of opportunities to chase Noonien to Omicron Theta and then to that sweaty shed on Terlina III. I did it willingly but he never once asked what I wanted. He put me in an android body and he kept it a secret, he even let me turn into an old woman when I didn't have to rather than accept responsibility for what he'd done." she silenced Data with her hand, "I know he told you he had admirable reasons for what he did and he probably believed it himself, but I knew the man inside out and backwards and he was fundamentally a selfish fecker who believed he could do no wrong. That's why the nickname hurt him so much, it was a reminder that he actually was fallible."
"I should have told you the truth when I first found out what you were." Data said sadly. "I see that now."
"You never should have been put in that position, you did what you thought was best and will never blame you for that." she told him clasping his hand.
"Taryn can fix that." Barclay said distractedly, "She reset his aging program by accident, but she knows how to adjust it now. You can be whatever age you want." he looked away sadly. "As long as she wakes up."
"She will wake up." Data told him, "Her pallor had already improved by three shades before The Doctor moved her."
"It did?" Reg asked hopefully, "W…what if she won't stop?" he asked desperately. "What if she keeps nearly killing herself every other day? I don't know if I… can c…cope with it. What if Haftel has turned her into an adrenalin junkie?" He was starting to panic. "One of those thrill seeking m…maniacs who hack the safety p…protocols on the holodeck and throw themselves off orbiters."
Data crouched beside him. "She does what she has to, to protect those she cares about and what she believes in, not because she enjoys it." he explained, "You fit into both categories and that has made her take risks she otherwise would not and to be blunt, you have been doing the same. When this situation is over, the worst you will have to worry about is her landing awkwardly in the gymnasium."
Reg forced a smile, "I don't suppose I can ban her from going to the gym?"
"She would castrate you." Data said bluntly.
"I wish I was more…" he sighed, "That I was better at protecting her." He sighed again. "I meant it you know. I actually would have killed Eden for what he did to her." Data exchanged a worried glance with his mother and lowered his head.
"When the warp core hit the Odyssey one of the nacelles broke away and collided with one of the shuttles we had evacuated. It was destroyed." Data explained.
Reg's eyes widened. "Who was on it?" he asked with alarm.
"Eden and Young." Data stated.
"They couldn't avoid it?"
"There was no time to disable the weaponry, so I ordered Taryn to flood the cabin with anaesthezine to keep them out of the way."
"You did say you'd hold him for me." Reg whispered. He felt as though his stomach were being eaten away, and this time it wasn't the nausea. The thought that a shuttle containing people he regarded as friends and colleagues, even a raging bigot like Dr Ootani had been destroyed was unbearable, but this was somehow worse. He had wanted someone dead and it was his hand on the maglock that set the chain of events in motion. He could argue that Eden was a man capable of rape and sexual violence and in some ways was deserving but Young? He was a muscle bound moron but he didn't deserve to die.
"I gave the order. You are not responsible." Data told him, watching the mix of emotions that passed over the man's face.
"You aren't an officer anymore, you said so yourself." Barclay sat back and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I didn't have to do what you said."
"I am certain I could claim that Captain Maddox issued me with a battlefield commission." Data said and sat on the floor next to his seat. He leant forward with his elbows on his knees and locked his fingers together in front of him. "You may be a gifted engineer, but I believe precognition is outside your skillset. It is certainly outside mine. I could not see beyond our being captured and taken to Galor IV and I was… I let my fear get in the way."
"How many evacuated from the Odyssey?" Reg asked, dreading the answer.
"None, because there was no one on board." Data replied.
"What? How is that possible?" his tone was incredulous.
"I do not know, the attack pattern it used was not intuitive, its focus was disable and capture. No attempt was made to stop the escaping craft. If it were an artificial construct it was extremely limited, yet too complex to be under conventional computer control."
"Could they have used the prefix code?" Barclay suggested. "Had the ship on remote?"
"That has limitations in terms of range." Data replied, then horror dawned on him and he stood. "Geordi, scan for any inbound ships." he ordered striding towards the cockpit.
Author's note.
Thank you for all your comments, it really is appreciated. I hope you are continuing to enjoy this story. Any and all comments are more than welcome even if there is something you don't like. I'm currently on chapter 11 of the sequel which will be entitled 'Pygmalion' it's a little more angsty than this story and less action so far although I still have to go through and edit what I have and it may change a fair bit by the time it's complete. I have ideas for at least two more stories after that so I'm afraid you're stuck with me for as long as the plot bunnies keep arriving on my doorstep.