Disclaimer: Star Trek: The Next Generation, the U.S.S. Enterprise, and all the canon characters belong to CBS/Paramount. The rest is mine.

Support Systems

Stardate 44006.62

(Tuesday, 3 January 2367, 10:00 AM, local time)

Beach Haven, Centaurus

The thing about space battles is that, unless the news tells you what's going on, there's really no way to know what's happening much beyond the atmosphere of whatever planet you happen to be occupying at any given moment. T'vek and I had been at my father's beach house on Centaurus for roughly two weeks, and about half of that time had been spent with impending doom hovering just above us. Or behind us. Or…whatever.

On New Year's Day, forty Starfleet vessels had gone head-to-head against these hive-mind space-zombies called the Borg, and only one - the Enterprise – had survived. Less than a week later – a mere two days later, actually, T'vek and I were on a transport back to Earth, to San Francisco, where someone from the ship would be meeting us.

Both of our mothers were among the injured. We'd only been given the barest of facts: neither T'rella nor my mother had been actual combatants, but several sections of the ship had been damaged, and a lot of people – even science-types like my mother – had received plasma burns or inhaled noxious chemicals.

We'd been told we didn't have to come. In fact, on January second, my father had gathered the whole family and T'vek around the dining room table, and introduced us to Lieutenant Hayley Symons, a too-perky red-head from the Starfleet Affairs office.

"Protocol," Symons had informed us, "dictates that we provide this information in person whenever possible. Stevek Mairaj, your mother has been injured and is in stable condition. Your father is with her, and she is likely to recover within the week, however, they are requesting that you return to the Enterprise."

Tev and I looked at each other, and neither of us said anything right away, but his hand crept into mine under the table, and I squeezed it.

"Zoe Harris, your mother is also injured, and is in critical care. The Enterprise CMO believes your presence would be beneficial to her healing process, but it is entirely up to you and your father to make that decision."

This time, it was T'vek who squeezed my hand.

"And if I decide to go," I asked, "then will Tev and I travel together?"

"You will," she said. "Although I cannot guarantee that there is a free officer to accompany you."

I rolled my eyes at that. "We're not six-year-olds," I reminded her with a bit more bite in my tone than was polite. "We traveled here without accompaniment, after all."

To her credit, Symons responded to my snark by softening her tone. "I'm sure you did, Zoe, but…tensions are running high right now, and with so many ships out of commission…"

"Pirates." I said. "You're worried about pirates and hostile aliens and…stuff."

She cracked a smile, "I cannot confirm or deny that."

"Whether Zoe decides to go or stay, I still have to go?" T'vek asked then. "I mean, I don't get a choice?"

"Presumably if you wished to stay, you could work that out with your parents, but I'm not authorized to allow it without hearing from them."

"When do we have to let you know?" my father interrupted the conversation for his first time, with that question.

"Stevek would have to be at Capitol City Spaceport by noon tomorrow," she said.

"We'll call this evening to confirm," my father said, rising from his chair. "Let me walk you out."

I had left the Enterprise expecting to beg my father for permission to stay with him. Two hours before T'vek was required to appear at the spaceport, he finally agreed to let me go.

(=A=)

Stardate 44012.30

(Thursday, 5 January 2367, 11:44 hours, ship's time)

Spacedock, San Francisco, and the U.S.S. Enterprise

"Who do you think will be meeting us?" I asked T'vek as we joined the transport's senior officers for breakfast in their mess on our last day of travel. "Your dad, I'm guessing? Maybe Counselor Troi or one of her staff."

"If it's Crusher, I'm going back to your Dad's house on Centaurus," T'vek said, which made both of us chuckle.

"Generally speaking," the ship's second officer, a half-human, half-Rigellian named Marek put in, "they'll send someone who knows you, and who you know well, so if your father isn't available, T'vek, it may be an officer you both know, or even one of your teachers."

"Barclay," Tev and I said together, and then I continued, "It's totally gonna be Barclay."

But it turned out that it wasn't any of the people whose names we'd bandied about. Instead, it was the one person who was guaranteed to make me smile, in spite of everything, because when we exited the ship with T'ev guiding the grav-sled with our luggage through the umbilical to Spacedock, Marek paused. "Wow, I knew you two were part of the Enterprise family, but I didn't know you were this important."

I tried to peer around him to see who was waiting for us, and couldn't. "What do you mean?" I asked.

But Marek had already stepped forward, extending his hand in greeting toward the person in question, someone he clearly knew. "D-man," he said, "I haven't seen you since we were on the Trieste together."

I still couldn't see, but the voice that responded to Marek was one with which I was incredibly familiar. "Greetings. It is good to see you, as well."

"Data!" I said, "Tev, Data's meeting us."

But T'vek wasn't thrilled with that news. "If they sent Data," he told me, pausing the sled, "it means something really bad happened to one of our parents. It means Symons was soft-pedalling."

I almost wished I'd stayed on Centaurus after all, but before that thought was even fully formed, Marek moved out of the way. "Zoe Harris, T'vek Mairaj, it was a pleasure traveling with you." He handed the padd with our information over to Data, who was in view now.

"Thanks for everything," I said, speaking for myself and Tev. "It was surprisingly not-horrible."

Marek grinned at me. "I'm glad to hear it. Be good, you two. Don't cause too much more trouble."

T'vek murmured something to the effect that we wouldn't. I merely grinned.

Data came up to us then, looking as calm and reliable as he ever did. "Zoe," our teacher – my friend – greeted us. "T'vek. I am sorry your vacation was abbreviated. Please accompany me." He turned around and started down the corridor, explaining, "The Enterprise sustained significant damage during the events of the past two weeks. We will be remaining at Spacedock for four to six weeks for repairs and refitting."

"Are we staying on the ship, or 'fleet housing, or…?"

"For now, you will be returning to your parents' original quarters."

"For now?" T'vek asked.

Data paused, facing us directly. "Starfleet is likely to be shuffling assignments in order to restructure the fleet," he explained in his usual reserved, matter-of-fact way of speaking.

I felt stupid for not realizing that, and could see a similar I-should-have-known expression on Tev's face. "Oh," I said.

Data's brow quirked ever so slightly. "Indeed."

(=A=)

T'vek and I parted ways at his parents' quarters. His father had just returned from sickbay, and wanted to have some one-on-one time with his son before they went to see his mother. I felt a little bit abandoned, but I understood. Kenash pulled me into a fatherly embrace, and assured me that if I needed anything I could call on them. Tev hugged me, and we shared a chaste kiss, and then he and his belongings were behind the closed door of his home on the Enterprise.

Suddenly teary, and not sure why, I stepped away from the door, and reached for the handle of the grav-sled, only to find that Data was already holding it. "Allow me," he said quietly, and then, probably because he was one of the few who could tell when my moods changed, he added, "Zoe, are you alright?"

I shook my head. "Just a little overwhelmed," I said. "Can we go now? I want to change into clothes that don't smell like transport vessel, and then I'd really like to see my mother." I hesitated then added, "I mean… if I'm… Lieutenant Symons said she was in critical care?"

He guided the sled down the corridor as he explained. "You will be able to see her, but the burns she received were extensive, and she has been sedated to help minimize her pain." He sounded as if he was quoting from an official report. Probably he was. "She may not be awake, Zoe."

I nodded, then realized he likely couldn't see me as I was next to, but slightly behind him. "Okay," I said. "Will she recover?"

"It would be better if you wait for Doctor Crusher to explain…" he began.

"No."

"Zoe?"

"I want to hear it from you," I said. In a less demanding voice, one that came out smaller than I'd intended, I added, "I know you won't soften things so I'll feel better. I know you'll tell me the truth."

"Your mother's prognosis is good," he said after a beat. "The doctor's reports are favorable. She is already showing signs of improvement."

We entered a turbo-lift, and I was quiet for the entire ride, and for the rest of the walk to my quarters – my mother's quarters – ownership seemed kind of nebulous to me at that moment. At the door, I hesitated. "Is this when you tell me that someone from the counseling staff will be by to check on me, and that I should contact them or Kenash if I need anything?"

"That is the standard protocol," Data confirmed.

"Am I supposed to wait to hear from some counselor I don't know before I can see Mom? I mean… Tev's father was really sweet and all, but I'm pretty sure he was just being nice. He has his own family to worry about. And you…"

"…are an emotionless android who cannot offer support?" He made it a question but his inflection made it seem as though someone had actually used those words.

"I didn't say that," I said. "I would never say that." I stood aside as he guided the grav-sled through the still open doorway I'd been standing in. "I was going to say that you're the second officer of this ship, and are probably way too busy and important to hand-hold a student."

"May I enter?" he asked, remaining in the corridor even after I was in my quarters.

I paused, and blinked at him. "Are you a vampire now?"

"I do not understand." This time, I was certain, he was teasing me.

I rolled my eyes. "You know, unable to cross a threshold unless you receive a specific invitation?" It came out snarkier than I meant it to. "Sorry. But yes, of course you 'may enter.'" The lights had come up as soon as we'd opened the door, and now I noticed that the room was in disarray – planters on the floor, art fallen off the wall, my cello on its back, the top smashed in by an end table that had rocked forward. "Oh… god." I stood in the middle of the room, and for the first time since Tev and I had heard the first e-blast back on Centaurus, I burst into tears.

Data's hand touched my shoulder, and I heard his voice near my ear. "Zoe," he said. "I am sorry. It did not occur to me that your living space might have been adversely affected. These are only things. Things can be replaced. Your mother will recover, and you are safe." He waited a few seconds for me to respond, but when I didn't immediately do so he added, "Please tell me how I can help."

His sincere effort to be supportive only made the tears flow more freely, but I shrugged his hand away, and turned to face him. "I should ask you to help me clean up, but right now what I really need is a hug. Is that okay?"

He didn't point out that I'd hugged him before, or remind me that we were friends. His eyes flickered back and forth for a second or two, and then he stepped just enough closer to me that when he extended his arms he could pull me into a slightly stiff embrace. Well, he was stiff. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in his chest, and cried until I didn't have any tears left, while he said softly, "Zoe, if you require this form of reassurance from me in the future, please understand: you do not need to ask if it is o-kay."

I couldn't help it. His sincerity combined with the way he pronounced 'o-kay' made me chuckle even as I cried the last of my tears, but I stayed in the protective circle of his arms for a few moments longer. When I felt ready, I pulled away and he let me go. "Thank you," I said, and then, "I'm sorry. I didn't think… everything just kind of hit me all at once."

"I have often observed that humans react to stressful events long after the events themselves have occurred. In your case, I believe you essentially 'bottled up' your worry about your mother and friends while you were away." He moved past me and quickly righted the plants and the end table, and set the fallen art against a wall. "You should sit down," he said, and it was more than just a suggestion.

I moved to the couch and collapsed onto it. "I really didn't mean to fall apart like that," I said. "And you shouldn't be cleaning up. I'm not entirely helpless."

"I do not think you are at all 'helpless,'" he said. "But you are in need of more care than I anticipated when I volunteered to meet you and T'vek and escort you home."

"You volunteered?"

"Counselor Troi is involved with a high-priority patient," he said. "Her staff has been assigned first to help personnel who lost family to the Borg, and then to counsel those who were aboard. Doctor Crusher is overseeing the care of patients like your mother, as well as others who were injured…" he trailed off, then began again. "As well, it is protocol for escorts and informants to be…"

"People we know. That part I get." I also got, though I didn't ask for confirmation, that the 'high-priority patient' was the captain. Who else would it be? I considered asking him who had said he couldn't offer support but decided against it. Instead, I said, "I'm glad it's you, Data." I was silent for a bit after that, and so was he, but then I asked, "So, exactly what does happen now? Can I shower and change and see my mother? Am I supposed to check in with anyone, or am I on my own?"

"I will happily wait here while you 'freshen up,'" he said. "I will also escort you to sickbay if you prefer not to go alone. Someone from the counselling staff will be checking on you at least daily, but I assumed you would prefer not to have a 'babysitter.' Was I mistaken?"

I shrugged. "Normally, I'd be fine on my own, but nothing about this – " and I gestured to the room "- feels normal."

"No," he agreed. "I do not suppose that it does. Go change. I will be right here."

I took the luggage off the sled and moved toward my room, though I paused in that doorway to look back at him. "Data?"

"Yes, Zoe?"

"Thank you, for everything." I allowed my door to slide shut between us, without waiting for any response.

(=A=)

Sickbay was surprisingly quiet when Data and I arrived there, despite it being late afternoon, ship's time. I wasn't actually holding his hand, of course, but he was hovering pretty nearby. He'd obviously called the counselor's office to inform her of when we were arriving, because Counselor Troi herself met us in the corridor outside.

"Hello, Zoe," she greeted in her 'professional' voice. "I thought you'd be here a little earlier."

"Someone decided I should eat something before I came," I grumbled, though it was a perfunctory grumble. "He was probably right," I admitted.

Actually, Data had ensured that a spinach and mushroom omelet was waiting for me in the cleaned-up living space when I'd emerged from my room showered and dressed in fresh clothing: a comfortably worn pair of jeans, ancient canvas sneakers, and a Beach Haven Yacht Club tank-top. He'd sat opposite me at my mother's dining table, informing me that he had observed me eating such food more than once in Ten-Forward, and that he had noticed my tendency to become 'a bit unpleasant,' which was android for 'really cranky,' when I was hungry. I'd tried to ignore the fact that he knew me that well, allowed that good food shouldn't be wasted, and pretty much devoured the omelet.

Only then had he agreed to take me to see my mother.

I should have known I was being set up.

The counselor laughed, and it lit up her whole face. "Data has a tendency to be right far too often," she said.

"Yeah, for someone who claims he has no emotions, he's kind of a mother-hen," I agreed. "But I'm pretty sure you're not here to discuss your colleagues right in front of them."

She sobered instantly. "No," she said. "I'm not."

"I'm kind of flattered though," I said. "I was expecting one of your staff, not you."

Her smile returned, though in a more subdued fashion. "Anyone who can convince Data to open his door in the middle of the night deserves my direct attention." She said it lightly, but there was seriousness underlying her words. "Data, would you mind leaving us for a while? I'm sure you have duties to attend to."

"I do," he said. "However, I promised Zoe I would stay with her if she needed me."

Part of me wanted him to stay, but the better part of me knew I was being ridiculous. "I'm good," I told him. "Don't let me keep you."

"If you are certain…" he began.

"I am," I said. "I promise."

"Very well."

He turned and left and I refocused my attention on Counselor Troi. "Was that weird, just now?" I asked her, not really expecting an answer. "I mean…was he…"

"…expressing affection for his favorite student?" she asked, with a hint of something like amusement. "It would seem he was. We can talk about that later, if you like. Now, let me tell you what to expect when we see your mother. Beverly – Doctor Crusher – will join us in a moment."

"Okay," I said. "Let's do this."

She led me into sickbay, and then out the back way to the private rooms. "Most of the people injured in the battle with the Borg are recovering in their quarters," she told me. "There weren't a lot of truly serious physical injuries. A few have been relocated to Starfleet Medical."

"From what Data told me, my mother's sort of between the two extremes? Bad enough to be kept sedated, but not so bad she needs a dirtside ICU?"

"That's essentially correct. Were you also told that we asked you to come back so that she would have you for support?"

"Yeah," I said. "That I knew. Counselor, may I ask a question?"

"Ask away," she said, "and call me Deanna, please?"

"Is she really improving?"

"She really is. And having you here really will help." We didn't go into her room though. Instead the counselor – Deanna – led me to a small conference table in a really tiny room. "Have a seat, Beverly should be here in a moment."

And just like that, she was. "Hi, Zoe," she greeted, and for that split-second she was my classmate's mother, and not the CMO of the Enterprise. "You're looking tan and healthy."

I managed a real grin. "You should see T'vek…I think he's still trying to get salt out of his ears."

"I heard you taught him to surf."

"Yeah," I said. "I did. It was awesome."

"Good. I'm glad. Okay," and her professional demeanor slipped into place as she sat down, "let me tell you what's going on with your mother."

She explained that the plasma burns had covered forty percent of Mom's body, mostly her back and arms. Her face had been spared. She'd received skin grafts, and was being kept on a cocktail of nutrients, basic fluids and painkillers. "She's pretty weak," the doctor added softly, "and it's only this morning that she's been awake for longer than a few minutes, but the worst is over, and over the next three or four weeks, she'll be improving pretty much daily."

"Are there going to be tubes and needles and things?" I asked.

"She had a tube to help her breathe," Doctor Crusher explained. I tensed, listening, and the counselor covered my hand with hers. I allowed it…comfort was comfort. "We removed that a few hours ago, but her throat is pretty raw, so she may not be able to speak much. We've got an IV attached to her – you know what that means, right?"

"I do," I said. "I mean, I've seen them, and stuff."

"Good."

"Can I see her now?" I always gave up good grammar when I was stressed or worried.

"You may," the doctor agreed. "She's right next door. Would you like one of us to go with you?"

I thought about it for a moment. "I'm honestly not sure," I said. "Is she awake?"

The counselor gave me her softest smile. "Let's go find out, shall we?"

(=A=)

It's a scary thing to see the person who is supposed to care for you unable to even care for herself. When you have a parent in Starfleet, even when you're someone like me who pretends to be disinterested in most of the protocol and hierarchy, and all that, you live with the knowledge that you could lose your parent at any time. You live with the knowledge that there may be missions from which they may not return. You live with the specter of a catastrophic injury hanging over everything and you try to live your life as if that specter didn't exist, as if it was normal for people to beam into strange situations once a week.

All the knowledge in the entire Federation, however, doesn't prepare you for the cold, harsh, fact of seeing the person who is supposed to be your guardian lying in a bio-bed looking small, and fragile, and like they are missing a vital part of their own essence.

Doctor Crusher and Counselor Troi walked with me into my mother's room, and I saw the monitors, and heard the beeping of machines, and saw the bag of nutrient fluids with its tube going to my mother's arm. "She's sedated," I heard the doctor say behind me. "But she'll hear you if you speak to her."

I nodded absently, then moved forward. There was a chair next to the bio-bed and I sat in it. "Mom?" I said softly. "Hey. I just spent two and a half days on a Starfleet transport vessel. After that, I might never complain about living here again."

There was no response, and I glanced toward the doctor and the counselor. "Keep talking, Zoe," Troi told me.

"So, Tev and I survived Dad's wedding. Did you know Vulcan-Betazoid boys look awesome in tuxedos? We even danced, but that was decidedly less awesome. Uncle Zane thinks I should take ballroom dancing lessons. Then again, he also suggested I dye my hair pink, and we both know that's not happening any time soon."

"You can hold her hand, if you're very gentle," the doctor told me.

Gingerly, I took my mother's hand in mine. The skin on her arm was shiny – a mix of plas-skin and the grafts I'd been told about – but her hand looked normal. Pale. But normal. "We did a lot of surfing. I can't wait for you to see how tan I am. Seriously, I may have to take up the whole fake-and-bake thing just to keep the look going. T'vek, by the way, is not a natural surfer, but shaggy wet hair and pointy Vulcanoid ears are kind of hot."

I felt really silly talking to her this way, but I figured light chatter was better than telling her that her fifteen-ear-old daughter had been de-virginized by said shaggy-haired, pointy-eared boy. "Gran sends her love," I added. "She said to tell you that you're still family to her, because you're family to me."

My mother's hand twitched in mind, and the monitors started flickering differently. I saw her eyes move back and forth beneath their closed lids, and then I saw her mouth working. "Zoe?" she croaked through parched lips. "…that you?"

"Yeah, mom. In the flesh."

"Thought you were staying on Centaurus…"

"I thought about it," I admitted, because Dad and I had had that conversation. "I decided I should at least finish the school year. I mean, I'm determined to get a solid 'A' in Data's class this term."

She emitted something that would have been a chuckle under other circumstances, and while it clearly took some effort, managed to open her eyes. I stood up so she could see me without turning her head. "…thought you came home because you couldn't stand being away from me…"

I grinned. "Well," I said. "That might have been a factor."

We talked for a while longer, until my mother said she was tired. I told her I loved her, and let Doctor Crusher and Counselor Troi pull me away after that, but they promised Mom would be better and stronger in the morning, and, oddly, that helped. It also helped to know I could visit with her, and maybe even bring lunch in.

"Ordinarily," the counselor told me, as we walked together toward the turbo-lift, "I'd ask you to come with me right now, and have a talk in my office, but I've just finished with a rather intense patient, and I need a break as much as you probably do."

"You were counseling the captain, weren't you?" I asked. "I mean… I know, it's probably a secret and stuff, but…"

She turned her dark eyes – eyes that were a lot like T'vek's actually – on me, as if she was gauging how much she could trust me. "I was," she said.

"Is he… will he still be the captain of this ship?"

"He will," she assured me. "Have you met him?"

"Only very briefly, one time in sick bay, and the night Data introduced me to all of you, after the concert. Oh, and I ran into him in a turbo-lift, once." We were actually approaching one as I said that. "He's kind of intimidating."

Her smile broadened. "He can be," she agreed, "but I've heard if you vomit on his boots, it may help." I blushed, and she was kind enough to change the subject. "What are your plans for the evening?"

"I hadn't thought that far," I said. "Tev's probably spending time with his family, and I'm not sure my friends even know I'm back aboard. I guess it's back home for replicator food and a book."

"Or," she said, "you could join me for dinner in Ten-Forward."

"I'm not exactly dressed for it," I said, and then added, "and I wouldn't want to impose."

She stared at me. "The ship is in Spacedock, which means things are a little more casual than usual. Commander Riker's in charge for the next two weeks, by the way, and you didn't seem intimidated by him the night of the concert."

"Um, no, I guess not. Mostly, I was just embarrassed. I felt like Data was showing me off, or something."

"He was," she said. "He's never really had a protégé. He certainly hasn't ever counted a student among his friends."

"You say that as if he's been teaching for years. I thought our tutorial was new, created just for Wes?"

"It was, and it wasn't," she said. "Most of the senior officers teach classes from time to time – not always in the high school, but… you know Lt. Worf offers several self-defense courses, and Dr. Crusher leads the theater group."

"Well, yes…"

"Data, too, has taught other classes. But your tutorial was – is – the first time he's been involved with the school."

"Oh, okay." The 'lift stopped, and I realized we were at Ten-Forward, after all. "But Wes is his friend…"

"Yes," she allowed, leading me through the double doors. "But their friendship came about from shared bridge duty, and is more collegial, in nature, whereas Data's relationship with you is…"

"Affectionate?"

"And organic." She stopped at the table where Commander Riker was already seated. "Hello, Will," she greeted. "You remember Zoe Harris."

"Of course," he said. "Welcome home. How's your mother?"

"She spoke to me," I said, "so that's good."

"I've invited Zoe to join us for dinner, as she's on her own while her mother recuperates."

Riker's polite smile broadened into a truly friendly grin. "Excellent," he said. "I've been looking forward to meeting Data's protégé."

I took the seat they seemed to want me in, groaning inwardly. Apparently being Data's protégé was more of a thing than I knew.

Notes: By January 5th, 2367, Picard was in France with his brother, and the Enterprise was at Spacedock for repairs and re-fits. Space medicine means accelerated healing, even for plasma burns, but don't expect Zoe's mother to be out of sickbay immediately or anything. Also, while Lt. Cmdr. Marek is my creation, Data's service record (per Memory Alpha, and other sources) supports a previous posting on the Trieste. (Revised 27 May 2016)