Picard was sitting in his ready room, talking to an admiral via his computer.

'A Romulan vessel has arrived at Outpost 4,' said the admiral. 'The Romulans aboard claim to be refugees and have requested asylum.'

'Are we sure they truly are refugees?'

'Thorough interviews have been conducted and the Vulcan government accepted their request.'

'I understand,' said Picard.

'The Enterprise will pick them up from Outpost 4 and transport them to Vulcan.'

'May I ask why the Enterprise? As far as I know, there are other starships that are closer to Outpost 4.'

'Indeed. However, the Enterprise is still relatively close,' replied the admiral, 'and what's more, among the Romulan refugees there was your officer.'

'My officer?'

'Lieutenant T'Mal Ortez.'

Picard was silent for a moment.

'Lieutenant Ortez?' said Picard. 'But she died two months ago. I saw the warbird explode. How is this possible?'

'The warbird you encountered was in pursuit of the refugees. They had stolen their vessel and crossed the Neutral Zone in order to get to Vulcan. So there were in fact two Romulan vessels. The other one was cloaked.'

'Why didn't the refugees hail us?'

'Their vessel was severely damaged, including the communication system, the engine and the cloaking device,' replied the admiral. 'During your battle several refugees beamed up to the warbird and damaged the engine which caused the explosion. When the refugees were beaming back to their ship, they took Lieutenant Ortez with them.'

'I can't express how relieved I am. But why did it take them so long to reach Outpost 4?'

'As I said, their vessel was damaged. It took them several weeks to repair it. If you have any questions, I am sure Lieutenant Ortez will be happy to answer as soon as she's aboard the Enterprise.'

'Thank you, Admiral,' said Picard.

— — —

'One to beam up,' said T'Mal, having pressed her combadge. She disappeared from the Outpost room and rematerialised aboard the Enterprise. She looked around the transporter room with disappointment.

'Hey, T'Mal,' said Geordi. 'I'm really glad that you're alive. I'm here to take you to the observation lounge. Captain Picard wants to speak with you.'

'Okay. Where's Data?'

'I've just passed him on my way here. He waited for you, but some woman with lots of kids showed up and he's helping them to their quarters.'

They left the transporter room and started walking down the corridor.

'Geordi, how was he?' T'Mal asked carefully.

'Honestly? He was … You know, before you came to the Enterprise I was convinced he didn't have any emotions. But he seemed so sensitive and emotional compared to his behavior in the last two months. He was just so … robotic, you know? He performed his duties to the letter, but that was it. He didn't paint nor play the violin, he refused to play poker and go to the holodeck. Troi tried to talk to him, but he claimed he didn't feel anything. We didn't know how to get to him.'

T'Mal nodded. They arrived at the briefing room.

— — —

After telling her story to the senior staff T'Mal left the room with Data. She kissed him briefly, but he stood quite stiffly. They started walking down the corridor towards their quarters without saying a word to each other.

The room looked much more austere than before. The painting canvases were gone, as was everything that belonged to T'Mal. She looked around hesitantly.

'I suppose you got rid of all my stuff, didn't you?' she said.

'No.' Data walked up to the door to the bedroom and opened it. 'I put everything here.'

'You didn't sleep?'

'I do not require sleep.'

'I know,' said T'Mal. 'I just thought … You used to like it. But I understand.'

Data nodded slightly.

'I did not throw anything away,' he said. 'I will put everything back in its place.'

'You don't need to do this right now.'

'What do you want me to do then?' He looked at her closely. 'Do you need to be comforted?'

'Do you?'

'I was the first to ask the question.'

'Data …' T'Mal sighed. 'I don't know. I don't know, okay? I don't know what to tell you. I—' She was silent for a moment. 'You used to read some weird poems with nothing inside, remember?'

'I assume you mean the poetry of the ancient Doosodarians. It contains such empty spaces known as lacunae. However, I do not understand why you are asking about it. You have never expressed interest in poetry.'

'I just want to—what was that about? Silence? Emptiness?' She was twirling her hands as she was looking for the right word.

'Do you want to experience emptiness with me?'

'Yes, this is precisely what I want to do.'

She put an extra chair to the desk and sat down. He stared at her for a moment, then came and sat down next to her.

'Do you have any preferences?' he asked.

'Not really. The empty space can last about half an hour, I guess.'

Data tapped on the computer.

'This poem has lacunae of thirty two minutes. Is this satisfactory?'

'Yes.'

She tucked her legs up and put her head on his shoulder. He glanced at her and started reading the poem in silence.

'Remember when I got stuck on the holodeck?' She said suddenly about twenty minutes later.

He looked at her, a bit surprised. She didn't take her eyes off the blank screen.

'Yes, I have a complete memory record of that day,' he replied.

'I never turned on this program again. I used to love it, but after the accident I was too afraid.'

'You never told me that.'

'It didn't seem like a big deal,' she said. 'It was just one of the many things I was afraid of. When Galan told me I had to walk outside to fix the engine … It terrified me. But it was the only way to help them and to see you again, so I forced myself to do it. I was used to performing a spacewalk in orbit, seeing a planet beneath me, but out there I could only see distant stars. There was nothing. If anything had gone wrong, I would have died alone in total emptiness. Yet … it was so quiet. So peaceful. I realised I wasn't afraid anymore. I wasn't happy, but I wasn't afraid nor sad. I was empty—in a good way. Maybe this is what disciplined Vulcans feel. You know, I—I don't like Vulcan philosophy. I had quite a lot of discussions about it with Galan. It was—refreshing to hear his arguments as someone who actually found it helpful.'

'Do you wish to embrace Vulcan philosophy?'

'No, no. I just have something to think about. But you seem to have been pretty successful in suppressing your own emotions, don't you?'

'I … have doubts whether I actually have emotions,' said Data. 'I do not feel anything at all.'

'You do.' T'Mal took his hand and interlocked her fingers with his. 'Sometimes that's what grief looks like. It's … You know, I don't know what to say. I don't know what I feel. I'm just … I need some time.'

Data nodded in silence.

— — —

'Computer,' said Data, 'locate Lieutenant Ortez.'

'Lieutenant Ortez is in the nursery.'

Data left his quarters and went down the corridor to the turbolift. When he arrived at the nursery, he saw T'Mal holding a baby and singing.

'Sweet blue spaceship, gleaming in the sun—

'The only home you've ever known …'

He watched her for some time until she carefully put the baby to a crib. She started walking out of the room, when she noticed him.

'Data.' She looked surprised and a little frightened. 'I came here to help. Hannam—the baby—she wouldn't stop crying and she's a bit used to my presence and …' She started walking quickly down the corridor. Data followed her. 'And that's it.'

She stopped by the school window and looked inside. The children were sitting on the floor and listening to the teacher. One Romulan boy was sitting apart from the group, looking sad and lonely.

'Do you know this boy?' asked Data.

'Yes. He's Hannam's brother.'

'Why are they here, not with their family?'

'Their father was killed by the Romulans over a year ago because of his involvement in the unification movement and their mother died in childbirth,' replied T'Mal. 'She was hiding and unfortunately didn't have access to proper healthcare. They had no family other than an uncle who was a soldier and a staunch supporter of the Romulan Empire. Their friends from the underground looked after the children and took them aboard when they were escaping. They hoped Vulcans would provide the children with better opportunities, better lives, just as their parents wanted. When I was with the Romulans, I helped take care of the children.'

'So you continue doing it on the Enterprise.'

'No, I … I was just passing by. Troi discourages me from keeping in touch with Khaiell—the boy.'

'Why?' asked Data.

'Soon he'll start a new life on Vulcan. He shouldn't become too attached to me.'

'What if he already has?'

T'Mal didn't answer. She glanced at Data and quickly walked away. He watched her go, but didn't follow her. When she was gone, he thoughtfully looked again at the children behind the window.

When the lesson was over, he walked into the classroom and sat next to the boy.

'Hi, Khaiell,' he said. 'I am Lieutenant Commander Data. I am—'

'Really?' Khaiell looked surprised. 'I thought you were made up.'

'Made up? I do not understand.'

'She—the Vulcan lady—she told me all of your adventures. But I thought you were made up, you know, like heroes from the books.'

'I assure you I am real,' said Data. 'Do you miss her? The Vulcan lady?'

Khaiell nodded his head, but didn't say a word.

'Do you wish to see the ship?' asked Data.

'I'm not allowed to go anywhere alone.'

'I will show you if your teacher agrees.'

Khaiell smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

Data got up and walked up to the teacher. After a short conversation he returned to Khaiell and extended his hand towards him. The boy took it and having left the classroom, they started walking down the corridor.

'This is a Galaxy-class starship,' said Data, holding Khaiell's hand. 'Over a thousand people live here.'

'That's a lot, isn't it?'

'Yes, it is a lot.'

'I like numbers,' said Khaiell. 'But I think I still know too little. Will they laugh at me at the Vulcan school?'

'I do not know. I hope they will not. Vulcans are very noble people.'

Khaiell became more serious and sad.

'Are they brave too?' he asked.

'I believe so.'

'I'm not very brave.'

They went into the turbolift.

'Deck ten,' said Data, glancing at Khaiell. 'You seem very brave to me.'

'I'm not. I'm afraid. Will they send me back to Romulus?'

'No one is sending you anywhere, Khaiell.'

'Are you sure?' Khaiell looked at Data questioningly.

'I am sure.'

The door opened and they left the turbolift.

'Where are we going?' asked Khaiell.

'To Ten Forward. It's the centre of the ship's social activity.'

'What does it mean?'

'It's a place where everybody comes and meets their friends,' replied Data. 'You can eat a palatable dessert there too.'

'What kind of dessert?'

'Anything you like.'

'Like tree candy?' said Khaiell. 'Please, I don't want any osol twist, it's so sour.'

'You don't have to eat it if you don't want to.'

They arrived at Ten Forward and sat down at the table.

'Do Vulcans eat any desserts?' asked Khaiell.

'I believe they avoid sugar as it is not healthy. They eat a lot of vegetables.'

'Oh. I see.' Khaiell looked sad.

'However, T'Mal—the Vulcan lady who was with you on the other ship—loves chocolate, even though it is not very nutritious. Do you want to try it?'

'Yes, please!'

— — —

Data went into Dr. Crusher's office.

'I require your advice as a successful parent,' he said.

'Thank you, Data. Please sit down. How can I help you?'

'I would like to receive your sincere opinion, Doctor. Complete candidness is most preferable.'

'Alright, Data. I promise I'll be honest with you,' said Dr. Crusher. 'What do you want to ask about?'

'Do you think I would be a good father?'

Dr. Crusher smiled.

'Frankly speaking, I believe you'd be a wonderful one.'

Data looked a bit confused.

'Are you sure you are being honest with me? Words such as "wonderful" are usually used as a polite exaggeration. I do not seek compliments. This question is really important to me.'

'This is my honest opinion, Data. You're kind and patient—these are qualities I consider quite important in parenting. And … there is no perfect parent. All people have some flaws, but they can still be good parents as long as they give their children love and attention. It's not about feeling it all the time. I can assure you I didn't always feel love and awe when I looked at Wesley. The most important thing is to be there for the child. And you can do this just fine.'

'Thank you, Doctor.'

— — —

Data went into his quarters and looked at T'Mal lying on the couch under the gravity blanket.

'T'Mal,' he said, 'I want to talk to you.'

'I'm listening.' She sat up.

'Since your return I have noticed you have been acting in an unusual way.'

'No wonder. The whole thing was very distressing for me.'

'I understand,' said Data. 'However, I suspect there is another reason for your behavior and I want to talk about it before we reach Vulcan.'

T'Mal stared at him in silence. He walked up to her and sat down on the couch.

'I have noticed you spend a lot of time in the nursery, taking care of baby Hannam,' he said. 'I also suspect that you got attached to her brother Khaiell and that forced separation from him makes you feel so upset.'

'Yes, it does, so what?' She seemed angry.

'I do not say it is an unacceptable reaction.' Data looked at her closely. 'On the contrary, it seems natural. Recently I have spent some time with Khaiell and …'

'Don't do this to him, he's already had enough.'

'I do not understand.'

'His parents died, he's far from home, he's alone, he doesn't need to get attached to yet another person,' said T'Mal.

'But he is sad and lonely. He needs to be comforted.'

'Vulcans won't pamper him like that. He'll have to learn to suppress his emotions and discipline his mind.'

'He is just a child,' said Data.

'A child that will soon live among the Vulcans.'

'Perhaps he does not have to.'

'What do you mean?' asked T'Mal.

'As I am fully aware I am unable to have biological children, I have thought that perhaps this is a good opportunity to adopt them. You are already attached to Khaiell and Hannam—and they are attached to you.'

'What about you?'

'Having a family has always been one of my greatest wishes,' said Data. 'If I did not want it, I would not ask you for this.'

T'Mal was silent for a moment.

'I don't know,' she said eventually. 'I doubt I'll be a good mother. You're good with children, but I?'

'You do not need to be good with any children, just with these two. And you are. You cannot convince me otherwise.'

'This is a great responsibility.'

'I am aware of that. However, I believe we are responsible people.'

T'Mal looked at him thoughtfully.

'We will have to ask Khaiell if he wants it too,' she said.

'I agree. Shall we talk to him when he has finished school?'

'Yes.' She hugged him. 'I've got so many emotions inside that I can't even name,' she said quietly.

'I understand,' he replied, stroking her back.