Disclaimer: Star Trek the Next Generation is property of Paramount Pictures and all respective cast, crew, and employees. I am not making a profit off this. This is simply for fanfiction enjoyment.

Summary: The Borg have returned and have captured Data. Using very different tactics from their last encounter with the android, they will stop at nothing to gain control of the Enterprise … and Data may not survive the ordeal.

Eternal Scars

As Data slowly regained consciousness, it felt as if all positronic activity had been drained from him; and in fact it had. With the help of the Electronic Pulse Emitter and his own repaired emergency subroutines, he was slowly regaining the electronic signals he had lost. His positronic brain was finally receiving signals lost so long ago.

A faint beeping could be heard as more and more signals found their way to Data's positronic brain. Then, voices could be heard. It took several long moments before the android could discern that he was on the Enterprise and that he was indeed back home; the voices he heard were those of his friends and colleagues. As Data's memory engrams resumed function, he was thoroughly relieved to have regained at least some consciousness. Although a quick check into his emotion chip indicator told him that his emotion chip had been shut down, he still felt every fiber of relief from being back home.

"His positronic activity is back up at 80 percent," he heard Nurse Alyssa Ogawa announce.

"Crusher to Picard," Data heard the familiar chirp of an activated combadge.

"How is he?" Picard asked, not waiting a second.

"Data's positronic activity is at eighty-percent, captain!" the doctor replied, unable to keep the excitement from her voice.

"I'll be right there," came the response before Crusher could even continue. Although no one really knew when Data would regain full consciousness, a mixture of nervousness and instinct kept the captain from staying in his quarters.


In eight point seven minutes, Data felt strong enough to try and open his eyes. Although he knew that the last attempt had resulted in failure, this did not stop him from trying again. After twenty-seven tries, the android was finally able to open his eyes.

"Data," Geordi said gently, moving so he was looking down at his best friend's face.

"He.. Hello, Geor.. Geordi," Data stammered, his long unused voice unsteady at first.

Sighs of joyous relief rang throughout Sickbay.

With some struggle, Data turned his head, and he saw that the entire senior staff was assembled in the room. After hearing the announcement of Data's progress from Dr. Crusher, each had found an excuse to make their way down to Sickbay. Although as senior staff, they didn't really need to report to their subordinates where they were going, none wanted to be seen as nervous as they truly were.

"It's great to have you back, Mr. Data," Picard greeted, stepping up so the android on the biobed, still encased in the medical hatch.

"Oh, Data," was all Counselor Troi could muster through her tears.

"You had us really worried there," Riker said through his relieved smile.

"I apologize for not being able to regain consciousness earlier, sir," Data responded, his voice now steady and clear. All smiled at Data's literal response to a rhetorical question. It was one of the countless things they missed about their android friend.

"It's okay," Riker chuckled, "It's just… we're so glad to have you back."

"It is good to be back, sir."


"How are you feeling?" Geordi asked instinctively as he and Dr. Crusher performed the final repairs to Data's broken body. The rest of the senior staff had filed out of Sickbay after a wordless consensus.

Data seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"Since my emotion chip has been shut down, I do not 'feel' anything; but my internal diagnostics indicate that I should be fully operational in forty minutes, twenty-seven seconds."

The chief engineer winced, hearing his friend say 'fully operational'. Damage to Data's internal diagnostics was one of the countless injuries he had suffered. Had it been functioning, he would know the truth…

"Wait… did you say you emotion chip was shut down? When we found you, your emotion chip was not on."

"Then it must have been shut down when the Borg Queen clone died," Data stated simply.

"So, your emotion chip was on when the Borg did this to you?!"

Data nodded.

Dr. Crusher's jaw dropped in horror.

Geordi winced visibly this time. Immediately, images flashed though his mind of what his best friend must have gone through. After several moments, he realized that he had been standing with his mouth agape in shock.

"I'm so sorry, Data," he whispered, staring down at his friend, the pain evident in his saddened eyes.

"You do not need to apologize," Data said, "this was not your fault."

A long silence ensued as Geordi returned to begin repairs on Data's internal diagnostic system. He would be able to shut it off and turn it back on once the repairs were made. However, he activated tools with deliberate slowness, wanting to delay what was coming as long as possible.

"Once my internal diagnostics are repaired," Data said breaking the silence, "I will be able to 'get up to speed' on what the events on the Enterprise during my absence."

Geordi smiled, his android friend was using more and more figures of speech; he really was catching on to being human.

"And I have a tennis file I programmed into the Holodeck that I believe you might enjoy. I have programmed the Holodeck to endow Sherlock Holmes and Watson with tennis skills that are equivalent to their mastery of mystery solving. Both should make formidable opponents in a doubles match."

Geordi responded with an audible shuddering sigh.

Data cocked his head. Geordi had always shown happiness at the thought of a Holodeck program.

"Data…" Geordi began hesitantly after taking a deep breath.

Dr. Crusher, standing behind him, suddenly looked as if she had aged ten years. The fatigued lines on her face were visible, and she seemed to be holding back tears.

"Data, th-there's something we n…ne- need to tell you…" the chief engineer's voice was already beginning to tremble.

Data looked from his best friend to the doctor. He found his friends' expressions intriguing. Although they had shown joy upon his recovery, he noticed that both were avoiding looking in his eyes. Experience had told him that when humans avoid eye contact, it is because they are either not being truthful, or they are afraid of saying something.

"Yes, Geordi…" Data gently prompted the chief engineer. But his friend's optical implants were filled with tears and his effort to hide them forced his voice into submission.

Dr. Crusher gently placed a hand on Data's arm; the doctor's eyes were moist as well, but she managed to face Data anyway.

"Data, when we found you, you were badly damaged… We repaired as much as we could. We reconnected wiring and stimulated your electronic signals with pulse emitters. But… the signals… the signals in your legs," Dr. Crusher was sobbing now, but she forged ahead, "the signals in your legs wouldn't respond. It looks like your legs are no longer functional. I'm so sorry, Data."

The android paused several moments, absorbing the new information.

"Then I will not be able to walk," he stated flatly.

The doctor nodded almost imperceptibly.

Data cocked his head ever so slightly but said nothing.


"One… two… three…" Dr. Crusher counted. On three, she and a burly ensign heaved the now sitting Data from the biobed and into the ioslinear chair; a vast improvement over a twenty first century wheelchair. The isolinear chair used isolinear chips to transfer signals from the control pad on the right armrest to its electro-sensor wheels. The wheels could detect objects on the ground and prevent from running over them. The chair itself could rise, adjusting for height as well; however, it did not go as high as Data once was able to stand. Geordi had worked tirelessly to design it. After several sleepless nights, he had created one, even improving upon the current electro-signal chair.

"Thank you doctor, Ensign Wilson," the android addressed, "And thank you, Geordi, for building a chair suitable to my needs."

He immediately began testing the chair, determined to become accustomed to the foreign object he now had to depend on.

"Wait, Data," Geordi said as he watched Data wheel around in his chair.

"What about trying to send signals to your legs now?"

Even if he had not been able to simulate the wiring in Data's legs, maybe Data had a better chance. It was his body, after all.

Data nodded. Geordi held his breath, hope and fear swelling inside him all at once.

The android looked down at his legs and tried to send a signal down his right leg. But the signal stopped short of the middle of his thigh. He then tried to send a signal to his left leg, but that signal fell even shorter. Two thousand attempts in a matter of ten seconds yielded no successes.

"You are correct, Dr. Crusher," Data said, "I will not be able to walk." Without missing a beat, he resumed testing his chair.

Geordi swallowed hard several times, but he could not prevent the tears from streaming down his cheeks.


"Good evening, sir," Data addressed wheeling his way onto the Bridge. All officers turned towards the android. Some managed to smile; others couldn't help but stare at the chair he was trapped in. One officer glared at the android as he made his way down the ramp to the front of the Bridge.

"Commander Data!" Jean-Luc Picard stood, surprised, "Ho-how are you feeling?"

"Although I will not regain full function, I am 'doing as well' as I can. My positronic activity is now at 100, not including calculations of my lower appendages."

With that, the android resumed his position at Ops as if nothing had ever happened. The ensign stationed as a substitute leapt out of the chair and pushed the control panel out so there was enough room for both the android and his chair. The controls, however, could not be placed in front of the android as they once were; they slanted at an awkward angle. The android did not even seem to notice this, however, as he resumed controls at Ops with the same speed he always had.

"Commander," First Officer Riker said, "you don't have to begin duty now. You can take some time to rest."

"I understand, sir. But I do not require rest. I am… as you would say… 'doing just fine.'"

Worf managed a toothy smile.


That night, while most of the officers on the Enterprise slept, Data, who did not require sleep, spent the time in his quarters practicing difficult maneuvers over and over again. From moving from his chair to a platform by shifting his weight on his hands and arms; to shifting his entire weight on one hand when reaching for something high on a shelf. It took a considerable longer amount of time to perform each maneuver. Many of the objects Data practiced on ended up bent, broken, torn, or dented because Data was gripping onto it so tightly. It was as if the android were learning basic functions all over again. He had to once again learn to control his strength as he carried his weight from one hand to the other.

Data concluded that he would no longer be able to go on away missions; his slowed pace and bulky chair would only be in the way. He showed no signs of regret, however, as he progressed with his exercises.

"Spot," Data said gently to his orange tabby cat who leapt into his lap every chance she got, "my lap will not be here for you to sit on when I shift my weight." But every time she sat, he stroked her back and rubbed her ears. The feline purred contentedly. Humans aboard the Enterprise were not the only ones who missed their android friend.


"And that's what's been going on here around the Enterprise while you were gone," Geordi said as Data placed the padd back on the table.

The senior staff of the Enterprise were seated around the glossy table on the Observation Deck the next day. Data had taken seven point eight seconds to review the logs of the events that had taken place on the Enterprise during his absence.

"The first look at the regenerative warp core must have been fascinating," Data commented on the Enterprise 's newly acquired invention.

"Oh yeah!" Geordi agreed, beaming at the memory, "I couldn't take my eyes off it."

After a brief pause, Riker continued.

"And now it's your turn, Data," he said, "do you remember what happened when you were on the Borg Cube?"

"My memory engrams have regained full function."

But the android did not continue.

"So what happened?" Picard prompted gently. If he didn't know better, he would've thought Data was hesitant… maybe even fearful of recalling the events.

In two point seven seconds, Data's entire ordeal aboard the Borg Cube assaulted Data's positronic brain. Every image, every sting, every cry of pain, every feeling of severed electronic signal, every ounce of fear, barraged Data's memory. He remembered every detail. It was times like these Data wished with all his might that he were human. Though humans often complained about their imperfect memory, there were some advantages to not remembering every single detail at any point in time. The old adage "time heals all wounds," never applied to Data, but right then, he wished it did.

"Are you ordering me to recall the events on the Borg Cube, sir?" the android asked timidly.

Picard, taken aback at the question, softened his expression after a moment of hesitation.

"I'm not ordering you to do anything. If you don't want to recall what happened, we can understand. But we would like to know what you've been through… For humans, when we experience something that is… difficult, it helps to talk about it."

"Is your emotion chip on?" Riker asked.

"No, sir."

Picard struggled to keep his face neutral. Why did he constantly have to be reminded that his android friend was not capable of feeling emotion? Or was he?

After a long silence, Data began to recall everything to his colleagues; from the moment he regained consciousness in the Borg Cube cell, to the final deadly blow he dealt to the Borg Queen clone. He did not spare any detail. Geordi couldn't help noticing that every time Data recollected when he was injured, the android's voice seemed slightly strained. He couldn't keep his own face from cringing as Data described the pain he endured each time the Borg Queen slashed him with the serrated knife.

After a while, Troi began involuntarily touching her arm of leg when Data recalled being slashed by the serrated knife. Her deep eyes saddened and at times she seemed to be holding back tears.

When Data finished, dead silence descended in the room.

"I wish to submit myself to disciplinary action," Data said after a moment of silence.

All eyes jerked upward in shock.

"I am responsible for Ensign Tim's death and therefore wish to submit myself to disciplinary action," Data explained.

"What?! How are you responsible?" Geordi challenged.

"I did not calculate correctly how long it would take for the Borg Queen to enter the false security codes; otherwise I would have known that she would reach myself and Ensign Tim before we could attack her."

"You were badly injured," Dr. Crusher countered, "Geordi and I had to repair your internal chronometer. There's no way you would've known how long it'd take the Borg Queen to enter the codes."

"Which is precisely why I never should have allowed Ensign Tim to take the risk of planning a surprise attack on the Borg Queen," Data argued.

"What other choice did you have?" Geordi said, "The Borg Queen was right in front of you."

"Data, Ensign Tim's death is not your fault," Troi said firmly.

"And," Picard continued, "You saved all of us and everyone on the Enterprise . Every one of us here owes you our lives."


The senior officers filed out of the Observation Deck. Data was the last to exit, his chair whirring across the floor.

"Oh, and Data," Dr. Crusher said, looking back at the android "I want you to report to Sickbay at 20:00 hours tomorrow.

"Is there something that still needs to be repaired?" Data asked, cocking his head, "My now functional internal diagnostics indicate that I am functioning at optimal levels, not counting my lower appendages."

"It's just a little physical therapy," the doctor explained.

"But there is a 0.0000001 chance that even one signal will travel down one of my legs. The time and effort spent is not worth the minimal chance that I will regain even the least bit of function in my legs."

"Are you sure about that?" Geordi asked.

Before Data could answer, a voice interrupted.

"Commander Data?" an officer who had been waiting outside the room addressed, "May I speak with you in private?"

It was Lieutenant Mitchell, the officer who had glared at Data on the Bridge. None of the senior officers knew this, of course; those on the Bridge were concentrating too much on Data's improved condition to notice Lieutenant Mitchell's scowl.

"Of course."

"I'll catch up with you later," Geordi said to Data before heading to his quarters. It was not unusual for subordinate officers to speak with senior officers. Some officers asked technical questions or questions about protocol in a certain situation; others asked how they could improve their performance in their duties.

Lieutenant Mitchell led Data to a small table in Ten Forward. Data noticed that officers and civilians alike were looking at him on an average of ten to twenty point five seconds longer than they normally did. A few groups stopped their conversation abruptly, silenced by the sight of the android in the isolinear chair.

When Data approached the table, he pushed the chair next to it to the side as far as his arm could reach. He then rolled his chair in place.

Lieutenant Mitchell, however, did not take a seat. He remained standing at the other side of the small table.

"Commander Data, may I ask what happened to Ensign Tim aboard the Borg Cube?" It was more of a demand than a question.

"Yes, you may," Data responded, thinking the lieutenant's voice was due to a subordinate's nervousness in asking a superior officer a question, "Please take a seat."

Lieutenant Mitchell finally hurriedly took a seat across from Data at the table.

Data proceeded to explain how Ensign Tim had died. He did not go into details on how he himself was injured. He figured it was superfluous information the lieutenant would be uninterested in. He paused before explaining when the Borg Queen had fired upon the ensign; he had done the same thing when explaining this on the Observation Deck. Was he expressing… sadness?

"So it's your fault," Mitchell said coldly as Data finished his recollection, "it's your fault my friend is dead."

"Captain Picard and the rest of the senior officers explained that Ensign Tim's death is not…"

"They're wrong! You're an android! You can calculate precisely how fast the Borg Queen moves, how fast Ensign Tim moves, how fast you move. You KNEW there wouldn't be enough time to attack the Borg Queen before she entered the false security codes!"

"My internal chronometer was not functioning properly…"

"Let me tell you something!" the lieutenant leaned on the table so that his eyes were inches away from the android's eyes, "When Tim told me he was going to ask Captain Picard to be on the away team that would search for you, I begged him not to. I had a bad feeling about all this. Very few people have faced the Borg and come back alive and un-assimilated. But he didn't listen to me. And now look what's happened. He's dead. You just sat there while Tim was killed. And you don't care, do you? You could care less whether Tim is dead or alive. You don't feel like us humans do."

Lieutenant Mitchell rose from this chair. The subordinate officer stood towering over the chair-bound android. He pointed at Data.

"The Borg Queen may have fired at Tim, but you were the one who gave her the time to deliver the shot! You should be stripped of your rank and decommissioned, you worthless, unfeeling android!"


"You ready for a game of poker?" Geordi asked, "Dr. Crusher, Commander Riker, Commander Worf, and I have been itching for a game. I think Commander Riker can't wait to beat you again."

Data was still in Ten Forward hours later. Lieutenant Mitchell had long since stormed off.

"…Yes, Geordi," Data responded after some hesitation.

"Are you alright?" Geordi asked; a hesitation from Data long enough for him to notice was very unusual.

"I am functioning within normal parameters," Data said.

Geordi followed Data as he made his way to the exit. Though his friend was 'functioning within normal parameters,' he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.


The next time Lieutenant Mitchell was on duty, he stepped hesitantly onto the Bridge. He was half expecting the captain to ask to speak with him in his Ready Room the minute he stepped off the turbolift. The senior officers were rather attached to the android and he would undoubtedly be punished for his insubordination.

However, when he stepped on the Bridge, all the captain did was acknowledge him with a nod of his head. It didn't look like he knew anything about the incident. The lieutenant let his eyes wander to the front of the Bridge and he saw that Data was at his usual post at Ops.

"As soon as we dock," the lieutenant thought, "I'm demanding I be stationed somewhere else; where a machine's life is not held higher than a human's." Although the lieutenant respected Captain Picard, his loyalty toward waned when it came to his attachment to the android.

The massive starship slid into Starbase 54, where thick docking clamps grasped onto the ship. The entire ship rocked heavily as the clamps made contact with the Enterprise . Although internal repairs had been made to the Enterprise, massive dents, holes, and gashes still lay on the outer hull, making it vulnerable to any sort of contact. The ship had not escaped from the Borg unharmed.

As the ship rocked, Data held onto the small control panel before him; but the floor underneath him shifted heavily to the side and he was thrown out of his isolinear chair and onto the floor.

"Data!" Riker shot up as soon as the ship was stable.

"I am fine," the android insisted, "I do not need assistance." He and his chair were both laying on their left sides. Data brought his hands to the floor and pushed his upper body upright. He then walked his hands on the floor toward his lower body until he sat upright.

Picard had to fight not to grab his chair, which lay just beyond reach. An ensign to Data's right acted on her thoughts and walked toward Data's chair. All she had to do was bring it closer to him.

"Thank you for your willingness to help, Ensign Reed," Data said, catching her in the act, "but my duties require that I learn to do this on my own. This will not be the only time I am without my isolinear chair." Although Data had not had a chance to practice this move, he only saw this as the perfect opportunity to learn.

Data then proceeded to moved his hands to the right side of his body, and stretching his arms out, he crawled toward his chair, dragging his lifeless lower body with him. When he reached the chair, he pushed it upright easily and locked it into place. The android crawled toward the front of the chair, and gripping the right armrest with his left hand and placing his right hand on the seat of the chair, he hoisted himself up. He then twisted his body by walking his right hand on the seat of the chair. When his right hip rested on the chair, he gripped both armrests with each of his hands and brought his body facing the right direction before sliding back into his original position.

Picard struggled to keep from cringing, or even biting his lower lip. The android who wanted so much to be human, now looked just as weak and vulnerable as each of them.

"Captain Picard," the viewscreen switched to an image of Admiral Vincennes, jolting the captain from his thoughts, "we will begin repairs to your ship right away. Once the repairs are done, you are to report to Earth at Starfleet Headquarters for a court martial hearing."

"Mr. Worf," Picard whispered to the Klingon behind him, "patch the communication to my Ready Room."

"Belay that order, Mr. Worf!" the admiral said immediately. He then looked Picard squarely in the eyes.

"You directly violated orders from an admiral! You pushed everyone on the entire ship into harm's way; your crew and all citizens aboard your ship deserve an explanation. They are welcome to view the hearing themselves. I don't see a need to hide anything from them now."

The subordinate crew on the Bridge stole glances at each other nervously. Picard was far from alone in violating Starfleet orders.

"You want an explanation, right now?" Picard asked, standing up out of his chair, "perhaps you didn't notice Commander Data, sitting right in front of you."

Admiral Vincennes looked toward where Picard gestured with his hand. He had been so focused on Picard, he didn't notice the android.

"Co… Commander Data!"

"Admiral," Data nodded respectfully, "he rolled his chair out from behind the control panel.

"You're… you're alive! And you're…" the admiral couldn't tear his eyes from the chair-bound android.

"I am in this isolinear chair, because I am unable to walk," Data explained as calmly as if he were describing the color of the Bridge.

"Commander Data sustained massive injuries in his encounter with the Borg," Picard explained, "he was tortured… the Borg Queen made a clone of herself who then tortured Data for the security codes to the Enterprise . The whole time, Commander Data's emotion chip was on. He felt every cut, every wound, every sting from the knife that the Queen clone used to injure him. But he refused to give her the codes. In the end, despite all his injuries, Data managed to kill the Borg Queen and all Borg."

Admiral Vincennes stared open mouthed at the crew. He was at a complete loss for words. At the back of the Bridge, Lieutenant Mitchell lowered his head. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind at once.

"Do you still wish to proceed with the court martial?" Data asked the admiral politely.

The admiral looked from Captain Picard to Commander Data and back again.

"N..no," he said softly.

He then directed his eyes toward the android, "In fact, I'm sorry I brought it up in the first place."

To be continued…

I greatly appreciate all reviews. Thank you so much to all reviewers! It is you who make writing so rewarding! :)