Author's Note: Thank you for your continued support with this series. All of your reviews, likes, kudos, and messages are wonderful!
I'm sorry. I lied. The Traveller arc was supposed to be a two-part storyline.
It's three!
After hitting nearly 20k words, I decided it was necessary to split the conclusion into two chapters.
This chapter and the next are the conclusion of the Traveller storyline and we're exploring Data & Tasha's relationship in a new way. Playing a wee bit fast and loose again with canon. You may notice some subtle differences in the sequence of events and dialog in comparison to the actual episode.
It's a long, heavy chapter – but there is fun and fluff on the horizon.
Trigger warning: Strong language & mentions/flashbacks of sexual assault.
Walsh is a bad guy. I wanted to introduce a mix of both the "episodic" feel of the show with a handful of overarching story arcs – Bruce Maddox/Data's trauma, the idea of "family" and what that means for DaTasha, the found family vibe of the entire crew, and Walsh as a big baddie.
This chapter and the last focus on The Traveller, please note there are mentions/flashbacks of sexual assault. In this chapter, we're working in the context of Walsh is now in the brig. Both Data and Tasha will be working through both the personal and professional consequences of it. Please be advised if this triggers you, you may want to skip over those scenes.
So, what's next? We still have a long way to go with "The Complication." The next few chapters will see the appearance of Q, Angel One, and an original adventure involving a black hole that introduces the start of a romance for Geordi.
As always, if you like my works or want to stay up to date with art, comics, or just like chatting about the fandom you can like/follow at or TheTartanTart on Twitter.
Tasha rolled onto her back and blinked several times.
She heard them moving off, their footfalls growing more faint with each passing second.
In the distance, there was the steady drip of water as it ran off the stalactites that hung over the underground spring.
Everything hurt.
Tasha could taste blood in her mouth.
She brought her hand up to feel her face and hissed.
Fortunately, it felt like she hadn't lost any teeth, but her jaw was bruised.
Tasha couldn't see out of her left eye – there was too much swelling. And she was certain her hand was fractured.
"We have to get you to Gudrun," Ishara said as she emerged from the shadows.
Gudrun was a wise woman. A healer. She sold herbs and teas, poultices and plasters, and more placebo than medicine in Tasha's opinion.
Tasha shook her head.
"No, we're leaving now," Ishara insisted. "Besides, we can make good time. Not like we've got much left to carry."
She looked around bitterly at their decimated camp.
"I still have it," she added as she thumbed her locket.
It's the only thing of value the two owned anymore as their supplies, Tasha's beloved bow, and most of their tools were now gone. It's worth at least a few months' rations.
But they only have one bargaining chip.
"Told you to get rid of that stupid cat," Ishara said. "Nothing but trouble."
Tasha tried to sit up but fell back to the floor.
"Tasha, we need to go to Gudrun," Ishara insisted.
Ishara knew it was bad – even worse than when Tasha got shot.
Tasha grabbed Ishara's arm.
"We can't go to Gudrun right now," Tasha said thickly. "We need to save it. Otherwise, if we have to go back, we won't have anything to pay with."
Gudrun only accepts goods in trade.
The concept of credit doesn't exist on Turkana.
And Tasha refuses to join one of the clans.
The two sisters had been down this road once before when Ishara got into a spot of trouble and the silphiwort had failed.
Gudrun drives a hard bargain, especially when she knows how dearly it will cost one. Tasha understands they will only have one shot at this.
"We're not going," Tasha asserted. "Not yet. Please."
Tasha closed her right eye and tried to focus on the cool cave floor beneath her.
Anything but the pain.
"We wait and see," Tasha added softly. "We have to wait and see."
Tasha understood it would take weeks to know for sure and doesn't want to waste their only chance on her eye.
She instructs her sister that they'll wait an hour and then make for the forest. It's the opposite direction of where they were headed, but she knows she's only got about forty-eight hours to find and consume an adequate amount of silphiwort.
Usually, the sisters are mindful to keep it with them in their medical pack. When they've needed it, they mix it into a tea.
But their medical pack is gone – taken along with the rest of their belongings by the gang that's left her for dead.
And Tasha knows she's about ten days away from bleeding again which means she'll have to wait another month after that. She's learned enough to use the moon to count her cycle.
Tasha curses being a woman on Turkana. It's not a fate she would wish on anyone.
"We need to get moving," Ishara said.
"Give me a moment," Tasha replied.
She was so tired.
"Tasha?" Ishara asked, worried.
She can feel herself starting to drift.
"Tasha?" Ishara repeated.
Tasha lets the darkness of the cave floor overcome her.
"Tasha?" Data said firmly.
Tasha sat up, startled.
She looked around in the darkness as she got her bearings.
Data could see she was breathing heavily, and her heart rate was elevated.
"Tasha, are you alright?" he asked as he touched her shoulder.
Tasha froze.
He felt her tense and immediately withdrew his hand.
"You were having a nightmare," Data said.
"I'm fine," Tasha replied as she tried to slow her breathing.
It had felt so real, just like when she had been on the Bridge.
"You are sweating," Data observed.
She took hold of his hand.
"It was just realistic is all," Tasha said in an attempt to help him understand. "Like I was there."
"It is possible that whatever is causing the heightened hallucination effect the crew is experiencing in this place could also amplify the dream experience," Data explained.
Tasha leaned back against the headboard and pulled her knees up to her chest instinctively.
"Perhaps you should go back to sleep?" Data suggested.
Tasha shook her head.
If this strange place was amplifying their dreams, Tasha wanted no part of it.
"I'm going to take a shower and then go for an early morning run," Tasha told him as she got out of bed.
Data looked at her curiously.
"While it is technically morning, is this time not considered unusually early?" Data inquired.
It was shortly after 03:00.
Tasha shot him a look that indicated this was not the time and Data nodded in understanding.
While Tasha stepped into the shower, Data got dressed and grabbed his PADD. He was tempted to review his notes regarding their current situation.
But in the spirit of honouring the captain's order, Data opted to instead read one of his old favourites.
He settled into the couch in Tasha's quarters as he slowed his processing and allowed himself to get lost in the digital pages of The Swiss Family Robinson.
For many days we had been tempest-tossed. Six times had the darkness closed over a wild and terrific scene, and returning light as often brought but renewed distress, for the raging storm increased in fury until on the seventh day all hope was lost. We were driven completely out of our course; no conjecture could be formed as to our whereabouts.
Data had reached chapter eighteen when Tasha finally emerged, steam rolling out behind her.
He checked his internal chronometer and calculated she had been in the shower for over an hour.
While he knew that humans often considered hot showers a relaxing experience, it was unlike Tasha to spend so much time on one.
A few moments later she stepped out of her bedroom, Parrises Squares bag and trainers in hand.
"I'll catch you at the briefing," Tasha said.
"I would like to come with you," Data said suddenly as he stood up.
Tasha felt great.
She had reached the moment where the pain transformed into euphoria.
She was in her space, and she didn't want to stop.
With each footfall on the rocks below, she felt it would be easier to keep running than stop.
"Tasha?" Data said.
She had hardly spoken since she'd woken up.
"Tasha, you have been engaged in physical activity for almost ninety minutes," Data said effortlessly.
Captain Picard had made clear that he did not want to see her with another sports injury during this emergency.
"Captain Picard ordered you-" Data began to say but was cut off.
"To avoid extreme programmes," Tasha huffed. "This is just running."
Sometimes she was jealous of his ability to not feel the strain of exertion. At the same time, she felt a twinge of sadness knowing he wouldn't be able to experience the endorphin release that came with it.
She sped up, increasing her pace enough to push herself for the final leg of her run.
Data matched her pace and looked over at her, concerned.
"Tasha," he said in a warning voice. "I recommend that you slow down."
She threw her head back in frustration. Regretfully, she took his advice and began to slow her pace to a casual jog.
After a few minutes, they slowed to a walk and eventually she stopped to stretch.
"The briefing will begin in about seventy-four minutes and forty seconds," Data advised.
"Sure," she said as she pulled her leg back to stretch her quad. "I'm just going to take a shower and I'll meet you there."
Data cocked his head to the side.
"I'm fine," she assured him. "Thanks for coming with me."
Data wasn't the only to notice that Tasha looked anything but fine when she stepped into the briefing.
She nodded as she slipped into the chair next to Worf.
Deanna couldn't help but pick up on the feelings – or more precisely lack thereof – coming from Tasha.
It was as if she had dissociated entirely.
She was physically there with them in the meeting room.
But mentally, she was a world away.
"As of this morning, Mister Kosinski's assistant remains unconscious," Captain Picard informed them.
"We're monitoring his vitals but there's a lot we don't know about his physiology," Beverly explained.
They still didn't exactly know how they had gotten here.
Or where they were.
Or if they would ever get home.
"Mister Kosinski stayed in his quarters last night," Worf said. "Our security team reports he is currently in the canteen."
"I've asked him to join us in main engineering as soon as we're done here," Geordi added.
"Sir, I think we need to consider our options for long-term survival here in case we are unable to get home," Data said.
Captain Picard leaned back in his chair as he considered Data's words.
It was what they had all been thinking, Data was simply the one to voice their shared concern.
Beverly didn't need a supply check to know they only had approximately a four-year store of basic medical supplies. It was even less for some of the rarer medical equipment and supplies.
She knew they could replicate most, if necessary. But she also knew that was dependent on keeping the replicators functioning.
Geordi had stayed up half the night. It had been a struggle to push thoughts of keeping the replicators functioning as he considered their deuterium supply.
Commander Riker had tossed and turned all night as he weighed how to best respond. There was a fine line between being the face of calm and toxic optimism. As First Officer, it was his responsibility to ensure the crew were safe and he knew that meant physically and emotionally.
"Thank you, Data," Picard said as he acknowledged Data's suggestion. "I'm assigning you to prepare a report on our current status – supplies and the like. I'd also like you to theorise plans in case we are here long-term."
"We could scan the local system for leads on anything that could prove valuable," Riker suggested.
"What about some level two probes?" Geordi suggested. "Gather some information on the planets nearby. Readings indicated there are eighteen in this system."
"That's an excellent idea, Mister La Forge," Captain Picard nodded.
"Sir," Data said suddenly. "The ship's complement only includes forty-one class two probes. In the possibility that we may be here for many years to come I do not believe it is wise to waste forty-three-point nine zero percent of our probe supply at this time."
For a moment, the room fell silent as the weight of Data's statement hung in the air.
"Scan the planets with the ship's sensors," Picard ordered. "We'll reserve the probes for anything that's class-M only."
The captain then turned to the counsellor.
"Counsellor Troi, could you please remain behind? I'd like to discuss where we're at with bringing on those temporary counsellors," Picard said.
Deanna had been overwhelmed the day before with crew members and their families desperate for time with a counsellor. It was much more than one counsellor could handle and she needed some extra hands.
Captain Picard had asked her to select several other crew members with experience to fill a temporary counselling role during the crisis.
"Yes, captain," Deanna said. "I'd like Lieutenant Yar to stay as well."
Tasha looked up from the table as if the mention of her name had pulled her from a deep thought.
"The rest of you are dismissed," Captain Picard ordered.
Once the crew had left the Observation Lounge, Deanna began to explain her plan to Captain Picard.
"With your permission, sir, I would like to ask Lieutenant Becker. He has considerable experience from his time on the Gagarin. I'd also like Lieutenant Chaganti, as you know she served as a counsellor on Starbase twelve before joining Starfleet medical," Deanna explained.
Doctor Crusher had already assured Deanna that she could spare Lieutenant Chaganti and she came highly recommended.
"And Lieutenant Yar," Deanna went on.
Tasha looked between Deanna and the captain.
"Deanna, I have-" Tasha started to say as she shook her head.
"You're perfect," Deanna insisted. "And you're the only other person on this ship with advanced training in trauma response."
Tasha tensed.
She knew Deanna was right. It was an invaluable resource for her job in security.
Internally, she was wrestling with herself.
On one hand, Tasha understood her duty. On the other hand, she was in no mood to think about trauma at the moment.
No, she was living it.
"Deanna, I have a lot of work with security," Tasha said, hopeful that she would buy her excuse.
"Why not let Worf take over some of the responsibility today and you can-" Deanna started to suggest but Tasha cut her off sharply.
"No," Tasha said.
"I think it's a good plan," Picard chimed in.
"I don't need help," Tasha insisted. "I can do my job."
Deanna felt a flash of anger come from Tasha.
"Lieutenant, I have no doubt of that," Picard responded.
"Tasha, you seem to be on edge about something," Deanna noted.
"Sorry, just up early," Tasha replied. "I'm fine. Why don't I take appointments this afternoon and evening? I can start at 15:00 hours."
Deanna eyed her sceptically.
"It's fine," Tasha said, hoping to reassure her.
Captain Picard caught her on the way out of the Observation Lounge.
"Lieutenant, has something happened that I should be aware of?" Picard inquired.
"Nothing that needs to be on your radar at this time, sir," Tasha replied.
Tasha knew she would have to address the situation with Walsh at some point. If they made it back home, Tasha knew Admiral Walsh would be hot. At the same time, if they never made it back, they'd have to figure out what to do with Walsh aboard the Enterprise.
"Tasha, what happened?" Picard asked.
"One crisis at a time, sir," Tasha answered with a smile.
An hour later, Beverly was back in Sickbay where Wesley was sitting in the corner next to the exam bed where the Traveller lay unconscious.
Beverly walked up and put her hand on his shoulder.
"Mom, he's my friend," Wesley said. "What's going to happen to him?"
He looked over at the Traveller lying unconscious on the exam table.
Wesley couldn't explain it, but the two had become fast friends since the Traveller had come aboard. They shared an understanding, a connection. And much to Wesley's delight, the Traveller had treated him like a colleague rather than a child.
"There's a lot we don't know about his kind," Beverly explained. "His brain scans are unlike anything I've ever seen."
Unconsciously, she brushed his hair back.
"Mom," Wesley said as he pulled away.
"Sorry, Wes," she said.
"It's OK, mom," he said as he looked back up at her.
She had the same look she got from time to time – usually when they talked about his father or her grandmother Howard.
"Are you alright, mom?" Wesley asked.
She slid into the seat next to him.
"How are you dealing with all of this?" she asked.
Last night, Beverly had been overwhelmed with work from their current crisis. Wes had been in engineering most of the time until the Traveller collapsed. He'd insisted on staying with him in Sickbay until Beverly had ordered him to bed at 23:00.
They hadn't gotten the opportunity to talk about their circumstances and Beverly didn't want to deny Wes the chance to share his feelings or fears.
She knew he was a precocious teen. He'd accepted the risks of life aboard a starship and taken to it with aplomb.
But he was still a child.
And he was two million lightyears from the future he had wanted.
If they didn't get home, there would be no Starfleet academy, no more trips to Grandma Howard, and no future in the normal sense.
"I'm fine, mom," Wesley said quickly. "Are you alright?"
The doors to Sickbay opened and Data stepped in.
"How about tonight you and I do family night? It's been a while and I'm sorry," Beverly suggested with a smile. "We can make that Vulcan pok tar you like."
"And Grandma Howard's ginger biscuits?" Wesley asked excitedly.
"Of course," Beverly replied with a smile.
A beat passed.
"You know I miss her," Wesley said.
"Me too," Beverly said sadly.
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and told him she'd be back after she completed inventory with Data.
Doctor Crusher escorted Data into her office.
"These are our last inventory counts and projections," Beverly said. "But based on all of the injuries we've seen in the last twenty-four hours, those projections are going to change if this keeps up."
As if on cue, the doors to Sickbay slid open and two ensigns from the archaeology team stepped in – one sporting an arm with serious lacerations.
Before Beverly could step in, Nurse Ogowa and Doctor Selar were on it.
"Whatever this place is, it's a hazard to the crew's health," Doctor Crusher sighed.
Data watched as her eyes fell to Wesley.
"And their families," Beverly added softly.
"Doctor, may I ask you a question?" Data asked.
"What's on your mind, Data?" she replied.
"Doctor, what are your feelings on our current situation?" Data inquired. "Specifically, as your family is aboard the Enterprise, do you feel relieved?"
Data looked down to the floor briefly.
"And is that wrong?" Data asked as he met her eyes.
Beverly sat on the edge of her desk and exhaled.
"Data, I don't know where to begin," she confessed.
It was true that there was a feeling of relief that Wesley was with her. When they had first made the jump to this strange place, Beverly had felt a sense of guilt.
While there were certainly a number of families aboard the Enterprise, most crew members were alone.
Many of them were now separated from their families.
"Data, where is this coming from?" Beverly asked.
He looked uncharacteristically concerned.
"Doctor, please," Data pressed. "It is important to me to understand how you are feeling now as I am struggling to emulate an appropriate emotional response to this crisis."
Beverly nodded.
"Ok, ok," she said.
She paused for a moment while she collected her thoughts.
"A part of me is relieved that Wes is here. It's comforting to know that if we never make it back, he's not millions of lightyears away alone and wondering what happened," Beverly explained.
She turned her gaze out to the main room of Sickbay.
"Lieutenant Selar has two children," Beverly said sadly. "One at Starfleet Academy and the other is still on Vulcan with her wife."
"Then you are pleased Wesley is here with you?" Data asked to clarify.
"Sort of," Beverly said. "It's complicated."
She got up and walked over to the glass wall. Beverly crossed her arms.
"I can't stop thinking about all the things he'll miss out on if we never get home," Beverly admitted. "He wants to join Starfleet and I don't want to deprive him of that opportunity."
"If we are stuck here indefinitely, I have calculated an eighty-nine-point four percent chance that Wesley would be appointed a field commission," Data stated.
Beverly turned back to Data.
"It's more than just that," Beverly said. "There's no future for him here. What if he wants to get married?"
She glanced back to Wes.
"Start a family?" Beverly said with a hint of regret.
A sudden feeling of uncertainty crept into Data's mind and settled in the pit of his stomach.
He had not considered this. He had always considered that he would like to have a family of his own – someday.
It was like something hardwired into his system that he couldn't shake.
It was ingrained into the very building blocks of his synthetic structure.
While he had theorised that someday his systems would possibly reach a point of being irreparably damaged, he knew that would not occur for hundreds of years at the earliest.
In his mind, he had always pushed the desire to procreate off as it was likely he would have centuries to decide.
But the last twenty-four hours had brought it back to the forefront of his mind.
Theoretically, he had all the time in the universe. Yet, he knew that wasn't the case for humans.
Most importantly, he had no idea how Tasha felt about having a family.
He resolved that if it became clear they weren't going to make it home, he would bring it up for discussion.
"Do you regret your decision to have a child?" Data asked.
"Never," Beverly smiled. "Even on the scariest days, I wouldn't change it for the world."
"Even knowing that something bad could happen?" Data queried.
"Data? Are you alright?" Beverly asked as she noticed he was concentrating on something.
"I am functioning within normal parameters," he replied.
"Data," Doctor Crusher said.
She knew there was something bothering him.
"I have been…feeling…guilty," he confessed. "I am a unique life form and I have struggled to formulate close friendships prior to serving on the Enterprise."
"But?" Beverly pressed.
There was something in his voice that indicated the issue was more complex.
"Now I am feeling conflicted. For some time, I have felt a growing sensation. It is as if it were embedded in my programming. A desire to," he paused as if searching for the right word. "Procreate."
Beverly's eyebrows shot up.
"As in.." she trailed off as she waved her hands.
"Procreate. As in to produce or generate offspring," Data stated.
Beverly bit back a smile.
"Yes, Data. I understand what it means," she said awkwardly. "I am just not sure I understand what you mean."
"Because I am an inorganic lifeform?" Data inquired.
"Well, yes," Beverly admitted.
"An increased amount of my processing capacity has been focused on the idea of family," Data said. "And the last twenty-four hours have given me considerable information to weigh regarding that decision."
He went on to inform her that he had not yet determined whether he wanted to pursue creating an inorganic lifeform like himself or raise a humanoid child.
"There are many considerations," Data said. "And since I began a relationship with Tasha that adds another factor to the equation."
"You've really been thinking about this for a while," Beverly commented.
Data nodded.
"Data, have you and Tasha talked about this?" Beverly asked.
He shook his head.
"Not yet, Doctor," he explained. "It was my intention to discuss this as you would say 'down the road.' But the events of the last twenty-four hours may require I have that conversation sooner than anticipated."
Beverly shared the feeling. She was having her own thoughts about 'what ifs' when it came to her relationship with Jean-Luc.
"We don't know that we're stuck here yet," Beverly said. "Maybe give it a day or so."
"Because you believe Tasha will be opposed to the idea?" Data asked. "I have observed humans often delay conversations when they believe the outcome will be unfavourable."
"No Data," Beverly assured him. "I just mean that we're all adjusting to this new normal. We don't even know where we are yet."
Data considered her statement and nodded in agreement.
"That is most wise, Doctor," he said. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," she replied.
Beverly took hold of his hand.
"And Data, always remember that family comes in many forms," she smiled.
Across the ship, Tasha was headed for the auxiliary control centre near shuttle bay two when she heard phaser fire coming from the shuttle bay.
"Yar to security team C. I'm reading weapons fire in shuttle bay two," Tasha said as she tapped her combadge.
Security team C had been guarding the shuttle bay that morning. It was part of the standard beefed up security in light of their current situation.
Tasha raced down the corridor. She tried her combadge again. There was no response.
She opened the door to the shuttle bay to find security team C squaring off against a contingent of Cardassian troopers.
Tasha dodged disruptor fire from one of the Cardassians and ducked behind a cargo container.
She knew this was only their imagination. Captain Picard had warned the crew that this place could turn their thoughts and feelings into reality. She just needed to identify who's mind this scenario was coming from.
Glancing across the shuttle bay she spotted Ensign Jeffords and Gomez engaged in a firefight. To their left, Lieutenant Harris was sitting against a cargo container. Unlike the other two, Harris had his back to the container, and he was clutching his knees to his chest.
'Of course,' Tasha thought to herself.
Harris had served in the Border War with the Cardassians.
"Lieutenant Harris," she called out. "This isn't real. It's just a memory."
There was no response.
"Harris. You need to control your thoughts," she ordered.
Jeffords nailed one of the Cardassians. A moment later, there was another Cardassian trooper in his place.
Staying low, Tasha got off a hit on one of the troopers that was attempting to come around the side of a shuttle. Immediately, he was replaced by another trooper. It was as if Harris's imagination was replacing them as quickly as they fell.
They weren't going to be able to hold this position indefinitely.
She took a deep breath and raced across the cargo bay to reach her team.
Tasha knelt down next to Harris.
"They came out of nowhere," Gomez cried.
"Harris," Tasha said. "Harris, I need you to focus."
Where there had been only a few Cardassian troopers before, there were now seven or eight.
Gomez cried out as a blast hit him in the arm.
"Jeffords, Gomez, get out of here!" she ordered.
"I-I-I can't," Jeffords said.
He was terrified.
Tasha realised this wasn't working. Racking her brain, she remembered that Harris had served on the Magellan. The Magellan had been boarded by the Cardassians during the war and Tasha surmised Harris was likely reliving a past traumatic experience triggered by the cargo bay.
She knew she had to put distance between him and the space that had triggered the memory.
But she had no idea how to physically put distance between Harris and something in his mind.
Harris flinched when Tasha took his hand.
"You're safe," she assured him. "You're on the Enterprise and you're safe."
"I can't stop them," Harris said.
His eyes were squeezed shut as he rocked back and forth.
"Look at me, Elliot," she said.
He opened his eyes.
"You're safe. We're all safe," she said in a soothing voice. "You are not alone."
She instructed him as he breathed, but it wasn't making a difference.
Feeling she was out of options, Tasha decided to take a risk.
She set her phaser to the lightest stun setting and hit Harris.
The weapons fire stopped.
"I'm still shot!" Gomez cried out, voice full of alarm.
He'd taken a disruptor blast to the arm and Tasha knew they wouldn't have time to rush to Sickbay.
"Yar to transporter room," Tasha said as she tapped her combadge. "Four to beam to Sickbay immediately."
When they rematerialised in Sickbay, Doctor Crusher and her team wasted no time in rushing to the team. They knew that anyone beamed directly to Sickbay was in dire need of medical attention.
"Gomez took a disruptor blast to the arm," Tasha explained. "Indirect hit. Probably saved his life."
"I want quick clot on that wound and a regenerator sleeve," Beverly ordered. "Prep him for surgery."
Nurse Ogawa raced to the storage cabinet to prep the necessary equipment.
In the meantime, Tasha knew Harris still wasn't out of the woods.
"Jeffords, could you help me get Lieutenant Harris on the exam table?" she asked.
He nodded and they carried Harris to an empty bed.
Doctor Selar came over to check on him.
"He's just been stunned, Doctor," Tasha explained. "But I would like to ask that you keep him sedated for the time being."
Doctor Selar looked at Tasha questioningly.
"Lieutenant Harris was triggered by something," Tasha explained. "Triggered into a memory that was dangerous. I stunned him but I'm worried it could happen again. Until we know more about this place, I don't think it's safe or healthy for Harris."
"Lieutenant, we don't even know what's happening here," Selar replied. "I can sedate him temporarily but it's not safe to keep him in that state long-term. Not until we understand more about this place and what it does to our brain chemistry."
Tasha knew Doctor Selar was right. It may be dangerous for Harris to be sedated long. However, she couldn't risk him having another flashback again.
Suddenly, she was struck with an idea.
"Doctor, could you keep him sedated until 14:00?" Tasha requested. "Then we can bring him out of sedation in a secure location with a team standing by in case the flashback occurs again."
Reluctantly, Doctor Selar agreed.
"Is he going to be alright?" Jeffords asked.
"Yeah, he'll be fine," Tasha assured him.
She glanced over to where Doctor Crusher was prepping Gomez to go into surgery on his arm.
"You did good work back there, Jeffords," Tasha said as she took hold of his shoulder. "Stay here with Gomez and Harris. Make sure they're all right."
"Yes, sir," Jeffords replied.
Across the ship, Jean-Luc was on his way to engineering to meet with Kosinski. Turning the corner, he stopped dead in his tracks.
Just as he had experienced the day before, there was his mother sitting at the table they'd had in their nook offering him a cuppa.
"You look tense, Jean-Luc," she said. "Come. Sit and tell me what thoughts are on your mind."
"Maman?" he asked in disbelief.
"I've made it nice and strong," his mother said sweetly. "You'll sit and sip and we'll have a nice talk just like we always do."
Captain Picard stepped toward the table, resting his hands on the back of the chair.
"It's that woman, is it not?" his mother said as she poured the tea.
"Maman, you are-" Captain Picard said as he shook his head.
"Dead? I'm always with you, Jean-Luc," she assured him.
"I've always felt that," he replied.
Jean-Luc smiled. It was relieving to know that in the heart of a crisis his subconscious thoughts were for that of the woman that had raised him and influenced such a large part of his life.
"You're out here at the end of the universe. The unknown," she went on. "And you're worried because all of these people are counting on you to get them home."
"It's my duty," Jean-Luc stated.
"And it weighs heavily on you, my son," she said. "And you feel like you have no one to speak to."
Jean-Luc pulled out the chair and sat down.
Real or not, she was right.
"It's lonely sometimes, Maman," he confessed. "I have to maintain a certain distance from everyone in order to do my job sufficiently."
"You were always wise, my son. But I think you shouldn't allow perfect to become the enemy of good," she commented.
Jean-Luc swirled his tea.
"What would happen if you were to tell her how you feel? Be honest with her and yourself?" his mother asked bluntly.
"It would not be appropriate," Jean-Luc said.
"You've carried this burden for a long time, Jean-Luc," his mother said.
He didn't need reminding. It was always present in his mind – every time they met for breakfast, when she got that familiar spark in her eye whenever she got inspiration, the way she smiled at him, and each time they were alone.
"She understands you better than you know," his mother smiled.
"Is something wrong?" Worf asked as he eyed Tasha.
They were seated across from one another in the canteen. They usually met for lunch, and both felt that it was important to continue working as if nothing were unusual.
The two shared the feeling of comfort in routine.
Tasha shook her head.
For the last few minutes, she had been staring at nothing.
Worf was alarmed by the blank look on her face. It wasn't like her to lose concentration.
"Tasha?" Worf prompted a little louder.
Tasha looked at him, down to her plate, and then back to Worf.
"Sorry, Worf," she said. "What did you ask?"
"You are distracted by something," he commented.
"I'm not hungry," she said in a faraway voice.
Worf cocked his eyebrow as he looked at her sceptically.
"Since when?" he asked sarcastically.
She had to admit, it wasn't one of her better excuses. Tasha was always hungry – didn't matter the time, place, or food being offered.
"Just not feeling lunch," she repeated.
Worf's face turned sour.
"You nearly bit off my hand when we were stuck on Quiros II during that sandstorm," Worf commented. "I thought you were going to eat your boots."
Tasha picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of courgette. She popped it in her mouth and shrugged at him.
"Better?" she asked after swallowing it.
She reached for a cup of water and took a long drink.
"This doesn't have anything to do with Ensign Walsh being in the brig, does it?" Worf questioned.
Tasha choked as she drank her water.
"No," she sputtered as she coughed, regaining her breath.
"What did he do this time?" Worf said.
"You know how he is," Tasha said casually, hoping to dismiss the conversation.
Worf was well aware of Walsh's personal record of having numerous infractions involving his treatment of other crew members. He also knew full well that Tasha had been desperate to hold Walsh accountable. Several months earlier, Worf had sat Walsh down for a one-on-one chat and told him to shape up or get out of security.
Walsh had treated the experience as if it were a farce.
"How long do you intend to keep him there? I noticed the report was kept confidential," Worf said.
Tasha was trying to keep her thoughts focused on anything other than Walsh.
She couldn't have another flashback.
Not now.
She dropped her fork as she could taste blood in her mouth.
Looking down, Tasha noticed there was a hastily extinguished firepit where her plate had previously been.
She closed her eyes as she listened to the footfalls behind her.
Tasha jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"T?" Miles O'Brien asked as he slid into the seat next to her. "You alright?"
"Fine," she said as she caught her breath.
"This place has all of us jumpy," Miles said as he observed her reaction.
"Right," Tasha said distantly.
She stood up.
"Worf, can you please let security teams C, G, and K know that we'll have a briefing at 13:00 in the Observation Lounge?" Tasha asked.
"Yes, of course," he replied.
"Thanks," she said strangely. "I'll see you there."
Down in the brig, Ensign Walsh smiled as he saw his best friend Armando Gomez step into the room.
He got up from the bed and stepped over to the shield protecting the cell.
"What the hell happened to you?" Gomez asked as he approached Walsh's cell.
"I could ask you the same thing," Walsh replied as he pointed to Gomez's arm in a healing sleeve.
Gomez shrugged.
"Let's just say it's lucky you get to ride this out down here," Gomez explained. "Relaxing while the rest of us are out there getting shot at."
Walsh scoffed.
"Seriously!" Gomez insisted. "We had a firefight on the shuttle bay with a Cardassian contingent. Whatever this place is, it's doing strange things."
"Cardassians?" Walsh asked doubtfully.
Gomez nodded eagerly.
"Harris had some kind of flashback," Gomez informed him. "I don't know what we would have done if Lieutenant Yar hadn't come in."
Walsh's ears perked up.
"Lieutenant Yar, eh?" Walsh asked.
"Yeah," Gomez nodded. "She had sense enough to stun Harris. It stopped it."
"Well, she's quite adept with a phaser," Walsh said bitterly. "Plucky little cunt, isn't she?"
Walsh sighed and sat back down on the bed along the wall.
"What did you do this time?" Gomez said with a grin.
"Paid her a compliment and she stunned me," Walsh said innocently.
He looked at the wall and then back to Gomez.
"Sounds about right," Gomez laughed.
"I need your help, Armando. Man to man," Walsh said quietly. "I need you to back me up."
He got up quickly and walked back toward the forcefield.
"All that stuff you heard about her on the Crazy Horse, I need to know you're willing to repeat it. In an inquiry, if necessary," Walsh said. "And your buddy, Lewis. The one that served with her. I need you to talk to him too."
"Maybe?" Gomez shrugged, not following his friend's train of thought. "Why?"
"Because she came on to me, you follow?" Walsh said. "She's always coming on to me. You and Lewis too. Tell Jeffords, Harris. Anyone we trust. And when I turned her down, she shot me."
"Are you sure about this?" Gomez asked, feeling hesitant.
"Think about it," Walsh said. "Why would she ask me to specifically accompany her alone? She put me in that position. She's always trying to split up our shift!"
Gomez nodded.
"She's going to reassign all of us if we don't stop her," Walsh went on. "Do you want to be transferred off the Enterprise?"
Gomez's throat grew tight. It felt wrong, but he really didn't want to be reassigned. The Enterprise was the dream of a lifetime. And it was true – Lieutenant Yar had often tried to break up the group known as the 'beta shift boys.'
To Gomez, it wasn't fair.
"Alright, I'll talk to Jeffords and the others," Gomez agreed. "But it will have to wait. We've got a briefing in an hour."
"A briefing? For what?" Walsh asked.
Gomez explained that Lieutenant Yar was putting together a team to be present when they brought Harris out of sedation. She was worried that his same flashback might occur and wanted to have a secured location and a team standing by just in case. She was planning to stand by, ready to help him through the trauma but knew it could be dangerous.
"I've got an idea, but I need your help," Walsh said darkly.
An hour later, three of Tasha's security teams were seated in the Observation Lounge awaiting the start of their briefing.
A moment later, Lieutenants Yar and Worf swept into the room accompanied by Counsellor Troi.
"Thank you," Tasha said as she sat on the edge of the table. "I know you've all been pulling extra duty since this situation began and I wanted to say how proud I am of each of you and your efforts to remain focused and diligent."
Security teams always took the brunt of injuries on starships.
But the last twenty-four hours had been exceedingly difficult on all of them.
The room was tense. Even though the injury rate was up all over the ship, security personnel composed nearly sixty percent of the injured.
Tasha began to explain the situation they were up against.
"We've set up a secured location on Holodeck three. After speaking with Ensign Jeffords, it's clear that Lieutenant Harris has a soft spot for beaches, so we'll be using one of the beach programmes in an effort to try and keep his mind focused elsewhere."
Tasha opened her PADD and broadcast the presentation details onto the Observation Lounge viewscreen.
"This was the Cardassian attack pattern when they attacked the Magellan," Tasha said as she indicated to the enemy targets on the screen. "It's a Cardassian attack pattern known as Gelkrieg, and it is likely we'll see that play out if the flashback occurs again."
"It will be critical to keep low," Worf advised. "We already know their disruptors are capable of causing real damage, even if they are just a hallucination."
Gomez and Jeffords exchanged a glance.
"Lieutenant, we're Starfleet security officers," Ensign Tuttle said. "I don't see why we need to put ourselves at risk just because Harris can't man up."
"Ensign, this isn't a matter of-" Tasha started to say but Tuttle cut her off.
"I'm sorry that Harris isn't up to it, but we face danger every day. It's our job," Tuttle went on angrily. "And if he can't handle that then maybe he should find another job!"
Tasha could see several of her officers nodding in agreement with Tuttle. She didn't need Deanna's power to understand that Tuttle was projecting his own fears onto Harris's situation.
"Trauma is not something to be ashamed of," Tasha said. "Lieutenant Harris is a fine officer and I have no doubt that he would willingly accept the same risk to help any of you."
A moment later, the doors slid open, and Captain Picard stepped into the room.
He wanted to give the security team his thanks for their efforts, but he didn't want to interrupt.
Instead of taking his normal place at the front, he nodded to Lieutenant Yar to continue as if he weren't there and opted to stand in the back of the room.
"Now we won't be going in without protection," Tasha clarified. "We'll be setting up mobile deflectors at the spaces marked on this image."
Tasha tapped to move along to the next slide and laughter rippled through the room.
Captain Picard's eyes grew wide and Worf cleared his throat.
"Whoa, that's sure not you know who," one of the junior lieutenants sniggered.
"You mean Lieutenant Com-" the man next to him started to say but the junior lieutenant elbowed him in the ribs to silence him.
Tasha turned back to the viewscreen. To her disappointment, the next image of their security set up had been replaced by a picture of a hand holding a piece of intimate and erect male anatomy.
A second later she deactivated the viewscreen.
She wanted to snap. She had a feeling she knew exactly who was responsible.
But she didn't want to give them the satisfaction of getting a rise out of her.
They wanted a reaction.
Deanna watched her carefully as she could sense the mixture of emotions coming from her friend.
"Alright, I know this crisis has been difficult for all of us," Tasha said with a forced calm demeanour. "And I'm sure one of you thought this would lighten the mood. But I want to make perfectly clear this kind of thing is not appropriate and if it happens again, I'll be conducting a full investigation."
In the very back of the room, Ensign Jeffords looked at Ensign Gomez.
Gomez smiled and brought his fingers to his lips to warn Jeffords to be quiet.
'Later' he mouthed to Jeffords.
Their interaction did not go unnoticed by the keen eyes of Captain Picard.
Tasha flipped to the next slide on her PADD and was disgusted to see it was an equally inappropriate image.
She resigned herself that the remainder of the presentation would have to be done verbally.
Once they concluded, she dismissed her team to get geared up and meet back on the Holodeck in twenty minutes. Deanna, Captain Picard, and Worf remained behind.
"Sir, I apologise for the incident during the briefing," Tasha said quickly as soon as her team was gone.
"It's quite alright, Lieutenant," Picard assured her. "I know that wasn't your fault. And I trust you will look into it."
"You don't have to," Deanna said, reading Tasha's feelings. "You already know who is responsible."
"Just an inkling," Tasha said with a shrug. "I'm sure it was just an immature attempt to-"
"This also isn't the first time it's happened and you're angry because you feel like you can't do anything about it. You're feeling trapped," Deanna said aloud.
Tasha looked scandalised.
"I'm fine," she said sharply.
"Lieutenant Worf, I'd like you to conduct a full investigation of this incident," Captain Picard ordered.
Tasha grabbed her PADD and began angrily swiping through the presentation. She knew exactly who had hijacked it, she just didn't know how he'd managed to do it from the brig.
Tasha surmised Gomez was somehow involved, but she didn't have any proof.
She kept her eyes on the device. She couldn't look at the other officers at the moment. She was too upset – at Walsh and Gomez for their actions, with Deanna for telling the room how she felt, and with Captain Picard for asking Worf to look into the problem.
"I can handle this, sir," Tasha said frustrated.
"Lieutenant, I would like Lieutenant Worf to look into this incident as it involved your device," Captain Picard. "While I have no doubt that this is some foolish prank in which you share no responsibility, it remains that it was your device that was used."
Tasha scowled as she continued to swipe through the images on the screen. Someone – likely Walsh, or Gomez at Walsh's instruction – had uploaded a plethora of lewd images onto her PADD.
As she flipped to the next image, she frowned. She felt like she wanted to vomit. It was a crude drawing of her on her knees with the caption 'please Drew.'
Tasha couldn't stand Drew Walsh.
"No need, they left a signature," Tasha said bitterly.
Worf cocked his head to the side, wordlessly asking for confirmation that it was who he suspected.
"For the time being, I'd like to take care of this on my own, sir," Tasha said.
Captain Picard and Counsellor Troi shared a glance.
He had a feeling the reason she didn't want anyone else privy to the information was because it wasn't a prank – it was part of the ongoing harassment that Ensign Walsh was behind.
Suddenly, Deanna turned her head to Tasha as she sensed a sharp spike in the feeling of sadness.
Tasha stopped scrolling as her eyes settled on the image on the screen of her PADD.
It was evident that whoever had uploaded the images had done so hastily.
Because she was certain this is one image she wasn't supposed to see.
"Tasha, what is it?" Deanna asked. "What's on the screen?"
Tasha's heart sank as she read down the list of names.
It was the betting pool. The pool she had only heard rumours of for months.
Over a third of her security team were listed as participants.
Do that many of them think I'm nothing more than a joke? She thought cynically.
She felt betrayed.
Tasha had already had her own healthy share of self-doubt regarding her role aboard the Enterprise. It was unheard of for someone her age to hold such a prominent position. In her opinion, it had been sheer dumb luck that Jean-Luc Picard happened upon her in that Carnelian minefield.
The first year of her posting had been difficult – especially when working with some of the older security personnel that had felt passed over.
Tasha had worked twice as hard to prove herself.
Now, she felt uncertain.
If a third of her team didn't respect her, it could cause her fellow officers to lose their confidence in her abilities.
"It's nothing," Tasha insisted as she felt her eyes start to water.
"Lieutenant," Captain Picard said.
"I can take care of this sir," Tasha contended. "They're just a little on edge."
Her face felt hot. She felt like she was losing control of everything.
"Tasha, please give me the PADD," Picard ordered.
Tasha looked at his outstretched hand. More than anything she didn't want him to see it.
But she knew she couldn't disobey an order.
She closed her eyes and handed over the device.
"We need to get ready for Harris," she said quickly as she stood up and started for the door.
"Captain, the Traveller is awake," Beverly's voice rang out from the communication system.
Everyone froze.
"Lieutenant, I'm going to ask medical to delay reviving Harris for the time being until we see what this Traveller has to say," Picard ordered. "Have your team stand down. If the Traveller can get us out of here, then this exercise for Harris may be unnecessary."
"Yes, sir," Tasha nodded. "Worf, I'll inform the team and let's meet back in the Security Office."
"Lieutenant, why don't you head back to your quarters for the time being. I'll contact you once we know more," Picard said. "Lieutenant Worf can inform your team of the change to the itinerary."
"You're putting me off duty?" Tasha snapped angrily.
"Lieutenant, I'd just like you to take a break for a little while until we know more," Picard said. "Take a nap, read a book, do something for the next hour and-" Captain Picard started to say but Tasha cut him off.
"I am doing my job, sir," Tasha said as she raised her voice.
"Tasha, the Captain is not doubting your abilities," Deanna assured her as she sensed Tasha's fear of loss of control. "He just wants you to take a small break."
"A short break, Lieutenant," Picard said. "That's an order."
"Yes, sir," Tasha said through gritted teeth.
She left without another word and headed straight for her quarters.
"Counsellor?" Picard asked.
"Tasha feels like she isn't in control," Deanna explained. "She's very uncomfortable right now. It's not just the crisis. There's something else."
"Sir, there was an incident yesterday involving Ensign Drew Walsh," Worf offered. "I am unaware of the details. Lieutenant Yar filed the necessary report paperwork. And sealed it."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Picard replied.
His thoughts drifted back to his conversation with Tasha earlier that morning.
"Tasha, what happened?" Picard asked.
"One crisis at a time, sir," Tasha answered with a smile.
"Captain! The Traveller is awake but he's very weak," Beverly's voice rang out from his combadge.
"On my way, Doctor," Picard advised as he tapped his communicator to respond.