Update! Sorry for being slow...evil migraines have been attacking me all month and it's been really hard to look at the screen long enough to write anything coherent. I hate being sick. I hate it so much. It doesn't help that I'm allergic to most migraine medications. Grr... There's so much more I've been wanting to write, but it's been like trying to force a bunch of lakes through a tiny crack in a light-sensitive, aura-ridden migraine dam. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, and I hope that it makes sense and I hope these migraines go away soon so I can write out the scenes that are all backed up in my head!
Chapter Twenty-Five
Counselor Deanna Troi, Personal Log, Nineveh IV.
It has been about four days now since we left the Enterprise yet, with all that has happened, it feels like it's been four months. As I had initially hoped, removing Data from the ship has prompted him to begin to open up – to try to understand himself as the deeply compassionate, sensitive being he has become. Yet, while he has made some impressive advances in this very short time, I remain concerned with regards to his long-term emotional health and stability. The scientists here are wary of him – of all of us, really, and understandably so. They have spent the last several years of their lives on this project, after all; they were targeted by raiders and lost a colleague pursuing this work, and it is only natural they would be protective of their findings now that they are so near to a real breakthrough. But, more worrying than the archaeologists' attitude, I think, is the fact that Data has become extremely attached to the three children he rescued. That he was able to inspire these wounded, temperamental young people to band together and work as a team under such difficult circumstances is entirely to his credit and, to me, provides satisfactory evidence that the leadership skills he has been honing throughout his career have only been enhanced by his recent emotional growth. But, Data yearns for acceptance, for the warmth and love of family, and the Enterprise-E is, unfortunately, not a family ship. The promises he made to Mikey, and to the young Orion who calls herself 'Ishta', could present a significant conflict with his Starfleet duties if—
"Who's there?" Troi called out suddenly, standing up and moving a few steps away from the computer console.
"We're here," Kahlestra said, peering at her over the stack of summer homework she'd piled on the little fold-out table beside her mother's biobed. "Why, did you hear something?"
"No," Troi said, her voice a little distant. "It's something I sensed…"
She strode through the sliding doors to peer out into the corridor. She scanned the area with her eyes, reached out with her mind…
Then frowned and walked back into the clinic.
"Well, whatever it was, it's gone now," she said – only to set her jaw when she spotted Ishta standing in front of the console.
"That log is confidential," she said, hurrying over to blank out the screen.
Ishta snorted.
"Whatever," she said. "It's not like any of that stuff's a secret anyway."
"What do you mean?" Kahlestra asked curiously. "What was she writing about?"
"Nothing that concerns you," Deanna tried, but Ishta barked a harsh laugh.
"Yeah right," she said scornfully, and faced Kahlestra. "The Counselor, here, thinks Data's too 'attached' to us," she said. "She thinks if he tries to help me and Mikey, like he promised, it'll hurt his career."
Kahlestra regarded the counselor.
"I thought you were supposed to help too," she said.
"I am, Kay," Troi told her. "I was just getting some other work done while I was waiting for the computer to reconnect with the Federation's subspace network."
"Don't believe it," Ishta said. "She's a Betazoid, and a shrink. I'll bet it was her idea to make Data leave! That's the plan, isn't it? Keep us apart, keep him busy, then send us away while he's not looking?"
"No, Ishta," Deanna said firmly. "That is not true."
"And, we're just supposed to believe you?" Ishta challenged.
"They shouldn't have made him go," Kahlestra said, scowling down at her homework padds.
"You mean Data?" Troi said.
Kahlestra nodded, looking up to meet the counselor's eyes.
"He should have stayed here, with us," she said. "They don't want him down there."
Troi regarded her curiously.
"Why do you say that, Kahlestra?"
"Call me Kay," the girl said.
"All right. Kay," Troi corrected.
"Why do you even bother asking?" Ishta muttered bitterly. "Betazoids read minds, don't they?"
"I'm only half-Betazoid," Troi informed her. "My father was human."
"So, what? You can only read half my mind?" Ishta glared. "You must really think I'm stupid."
"Not at all," Troi said.
"Then, why the hell are you here?" the Orion demanded.
"I'm here because I promised Data that I would keep an eye on you," she said. "And, I thought we could get a head start on working out your situation."
She sat back at the computer station and opened a new LCARS search window.
"And there – see? Our network connection is back. Now, let's see how far we can get before it cuts out again. Perhaps we could begin with your name. 'Ishta' is very pretty, of course, but I understand you—"
"Ishta is my name now," Ishta snapped. "And we don't need you to watch us. We don't need that stupid robot either."
"I am here to serve," Howard said. "I must monitor the woman and the boy. I am here to keep you safe."
"Gah!" Ishta exclaimed, and slammed her fists against the prefab wall. "I hate this place!"
"You're holding on to a great deal of anger," Troi observed. "If you would like to talk—"
Ishta spun on her, her blue eyes as hard and cold as sapphires.
"Don't even try it, Doctor!" she spat, glaring at the counselor through her tangled, black hair.
"I told you before, Ishta," Troi said, keeping her voice carefully controlled. "I am not a doctor. I am a counselor. A therapist."
"Even worse," Ishta snarled. "'Therapists' scramble your brains! When doctors slice you up, it's usually just the parts they're after. Lungs, kidneys, corneas, bone marrow…"
Troi swallowed her revulsion.
"That sort of practice ended hundreds of years ago," she protested. "Today, we have cloning, replication, synthetics—"
"Think what you want," Ishta growled, and leaned back against the wall. "You stupid Feds really don't know anything."
Troi sighed, and rubbed her temples. The distrust and bitter anger that had been radiating from that girl since she arrived buffeted Troi's senses in waves so strong, the effort of shielding her mind against them was making her neck and shoulders ache. Ishta's obstinate, aggressive attitude was exasperating, and Deanna had had just about enough.
"Ishta," she said. "I won't ask you to trust me, and I understand that you don't want me to tell you that I am your friend. But, I think you know that I have no wish to harm you. None of us do. You don't act out like this with Data, do you?"
"She does," Kahlestra said.
Troi shot her a look.
"I'll put it this way," she said. "You recognize that Data cares about you, right?"
Ishta glowered, her arms crossed tightly over her baggy rags.
"Data isn't you."
"That's true," Troi said. "But, I am Data's friend. He and I have worked together for a long time, and we've learned to trust each other. Data trusts me to look after you while he's away. Now, knowing how important you are to him, and how concerned he feels about your safety, do you really think he would have left you with me if he didn't believe I wanted to help you?"
Ishta snorted, and brushed her hair back from her face.
"Data's an idiot," she said. "I don't need your help!"
"He is not!" Kahlestra shouted defensively.
"He is, because he thinks he can change what's real!" Ishta shouted back, her green face growing flushed as her fury rose. "You don't know – you have no idea! If you did, if your poor, sick mother over there knew what Nizik and Rizzul had in mind for you, she'd make sure you felt the real meaning of dishonor!"
Kahlestra snarled dangerously and started to rise, but Troi waved her down.
"Don't let her words bait you, Kay," she said, and turned her dark gaze to Ishta. "We both know she's not really talking about you."
"Who's she talking about, then?" Kahlestra asked angrily.
"Herself," the counselor said gently.
"What?" Kahlestra wrinkled her nose.
"You're a liar!" Ishta shouted. "Keep your damn half-Betazoid mind probe out of my head!"
Troi's expression tightened, but she didn't break her compassionate gaze.
"Is that how you feel, Ishta?" she asked softly. "Is that how you think we see you?"
"I don't feel anything, and I don't care what you think!" Ishta shrieked. "Once a Skin, always a Skin, that's what Father says! That's what Father knows. He knows the real truth: that Mikey and me, we're tainted goods – infected by the stink of the Skin trade. Even if that doctor-lady can help the little cancer-boy live, even if Data does talk some nice, clean Federation family into taking us in, that stink can never wash away. We'd just be a couple of charity cases to be trotted out and pitied until the authorities decide we're old enough to fend for ourselves!"
"You paint a pretty cynical picture," Troi said.
"You saying it's not true?" Ishta challenged.
Troi regarded the fuming girl, her sensitive heart aching for the bitter young Orion even as her clinically-trained mind worked to parse out the layers of her resentment and pain.
"There is some truth to what you're saying," she allowed. "But there are other truths, larger truths, you don't seem to be taking into account."
Ishta snorted darkly and shook her head.
"Stupid Feds are all the same," she scoffed. "You like to talk and talk about some pie-in-the-sky dream of 'acceptance' and 'love,' but even you know it's just stories! The way you people talk, it's like you want to fool yourselves."
She spat, and stalked closer to the counselor.
"Data knows what people are like," she said darkly. "He knows the way they promise and use and cut you down, over and over…! He even knows that putting on some stupid human-looking skin won't convince his precious Starfleet admirals to let an android-man captain their fancy starships! But, he did it anyway. He trusts you 'Fleet bastards anyway! And that's why he's an idiot!" she shouted in Kahlestra's face.
The Klingon bared her teeth in a warning snarl, but Troi nodded slowly, thoughtfully resting her chin on her hand.
"You're an observant girl, Ishta," she said. "And quite insightful. But, you've missed something very important."
"Yeah? What?" Ishta challenged, jutting out her chin.
"Data is not alone," Troi said. "He has friends: a community of people who care about him, and who are willing to give of themselves to support his dreams, no matter the adversities he may face while working to achieve them. And, Ishta…" She fixed the girl with her dark eyes. "So do you."
Ishta clenched her fists, and her nostrils flared.
"You don't know anything," she muttered angrily.
"I know you've been hurt," Troi said. "More deeply and more often than any child should be forced to endure. I know you're afraid, and that fear makes you angry. And, I know you're strong. Strong enough to take a chance on hope, even though, until now, hope has only ever led you to more disappointment, and pain."
"Get out of my head, you half-Betazoid freak!" Ishta shrieked, her expression fierce with fury. "You don't know the first thing about me, or what I've been through, so shut the hell up!"
"Sounded pretty good to me," Mikey said, propping his head up on the pillow.
"You were listening!" Ishta cried. "You infectious little creep! If you weren't stuck in that bed—"
"Leave him alone," Kahlestra snapped, rising defensively from the table.
"You gonna make me, little Klingon?" Ishta hissed, baring her own teeth.
Troi stood, alarmed by the fierce hostility she felt sparking and prickling between the two girls, but before she could react, Howard stomped out from behind his monitor station to clamp a staying hand on each of their shoulders.
"Master Data said I was not to let you fight," the robot stated. "I am here to keep you safe."
"Get off me, you metal moron!" Ishta said, struggling to wriggle out of his strong, silver-green grip.
"We weren't going to fight!" Kahlestra protested, glaring daggers at Ishta. "I was just gonna crack her stupid skull a little!"
"Stop this, all of you!" Troi exclaimed. "I don't understand what's come over you girls!"
"They do this, now and then," Mikey said, obviously amused despite his exhaustion. "Data knows how to stop it."
He looked around, and Troi caught his sharp spike of anxiety as he asked: "Hey, where is Data?"
"Captain Picard ordered him into the tunnels under the Stairway," Kahlestra said, still struggling against Howard's grip.
"Will he be back soon?" Mikey asked, clutching the shiny blanket between his fingers.
"He should be back in time to meet Dr. Crusher's runabout," Troi assured him. "There's no need to worry."
"I'm not worried," Mikey lied, and frowned at her. "Why are you here?"
"She's here because Data got too close to us," Ishta snarled, hammering ineffectively at Howard's metallic fingers. "He's made us all sorts of fancy promises, you see. So, they ordered him to leave and stuck this Betazoid head-shrink here instead so it'll be easier for them to send us away!"
"That's not what happened, Mikey," Kahlestra said angrily. "The archaeologists found something down in the tunnels, something important. But, it's blocked by some code. Captain Picard said they need Data's android brain to help them crack the puzzle, but that's not what Dr. Tu'Pari and the others want. They never wanted any Starfleet visitors at all!"
"What do you mean?" Troi started, then shook her head at the awkward scene before her. "Oh, this is ridiculous." Walking up to Howard she said, "Excuse me…erm… What's his name again?" she asked.
"Howard," Mikey said, and smiled.
"Howard," Troi said.
"I am Howard," the robot said in his chipper way, entirely oblivious to the struggles of the two girls he was holding apart. "How may I be of service?"
"Howard, I would like to talk with Kay and Ishta," she said. "Would you please let them go?"
"Mistress Troi. Master Data said I was to listen to you as if you were him. I am here to serve," Howard said, and obligingly released the girls.
"All right," Troi said, pulling a chair over to Kahlestra's cluttered folding table. "Thank you. Now, how about we all sit down? Howard, would you care to join us?"
"Master Data ordered me to monitor the woman and the boy," Howard said, striding stiffly back to his station. "I am here to keep them safe."
"Stupid machine," Ishta growled, scowling at her ripped sleeve.
"We could replicate you some new clothes," Troi offered.
"Buzz off," Ishta snapped.
Troi sighed and looked to Kahlestra.
"Kay," she said, "what were you saying about the archaeologists? Why wouldn't they want us to visit?"
"Not all of them," Kahlestra said. "Dr. Baker and Dr. Anders were happy to have some new people to talk to and show around for a while. But, my mother and Dr. Kapoor were kind of angry about it. Not because they're mean, or anything, but they've spent ages working on these ruins, and now that they're finally close to a breakthrough, they said they didn't want some high-ranking amateur like Captain Picard to swoop in and claim all the credit."
"I suspected as much," Troi said, hoping that really was the underlying reason. "And, I assume they felt the same way about Data."
"Dr. Tu'Pari doesn't like him," Kahlestra said. "He's a Vulcan, so he won't admit it, but I know. Before you guys came here, he read some article that claimed Data's emotion chip made him dangerous, and I heard him say he couldn't respect the intelligence of any being who purposefully chose confusion and chaos over logic and order. And Dr. Kapoor agreed."
"That's why you said the scientists didn't want Data to join them down in those tunnels," Troi said.
"Yeah," Kahlestra said. "They were hoping the dampening field would be enough to keep him on the surface, but mostly they didn't want a couple of Starfleet officers taking over their project before they had a chance to publish their results."
Troi smirked a little, and shook her head.
"You think this is funny?" Ishta said.
"No, of course not," Troi said. "But, I can assure you, Kay, your friends have no reason to worry. I think you know by now that neither Data nor Captain Picard are in this for the credit."
She clapped her hands together, and smiled.
"Now, I don't know about you, but I'm starting to get hungry. How about we take a little break. Then, if you're ready, we can get back to work – starting with Mikey this time."
Her smile warmed a little as she said, "You know, Mikey, I just realized, I don't know your full name."
"It's Michael," Mikey told her. "Michael Sean Applewood. That's after my uncle, Michael Thunderhawk, and my grandfather, Sean Applewood."
"And, your parents' names?" Troi asked, quickly moving over to the console and typing in the information.
"Katy and Graham," he said.
"Thank you," Troi said. "At least, that's something to start with. We can start going through the initial results after lunch. Now, are you all OK with sandwiches, or would you prefer to order for yourselves?"
Ishta and Kahlestra raced for the clinic's small replicator, but Troi held back, that same odd feeling that had pulled her away from her log entry tingling in her brain.
The sensation that they weren't alone…
She spun slowly, searching the room with her eyes, but there was nothing to be seen. No sign of movement, no out of place shadows, nothing that might indicate an intruder.
And yet…
Electronic warning shrills and bleeps burst from Kurak's monitors, and the Klingon woman began to gasp and convulse.
"Something is wrong," Howard reported, his metallic fingers tapping at the control station. "I cannot interface. I cannot stabilize the woman's biorhythms."
"What's happening!" Kahlestra exclaimed, rushing over to her mother. "You have to help her!"
Knowing there was nothing she could do on her own, Troi slapped her combadge, keeping her voice calm and steady as she said: "Troi to Dr. Crusher. Medical emergency in the clinic. We need you down here, immediately!"
To Be Continued...
References include - TNG: The Offspring; Hero Worship; Inheritance.
Next Time: Back to the mysterious glyphs. Is the Stairway a Preserver construct? What might the energy field be protecting?
Reviews are always welcome! Please let me know what you think! :)