Author's Note: Thank you for your continued support with this series. All of your reviews, likes, kudos, and messages are wonderful!
Never fear! In the end, in this series, the heroes will always win. Walsh will get his comeuppance (eventually).
However, our crew is going to run into a wee bit of an unexpected distraction on their way to Starbase 118.
In keeping with our slightly AU series one timeline, this chapter takes place between The Traveller and Hide & Q.
This chapter isn't as typically long as my other chapters. It's a momentary reprieve from the drama before our crew encounters an old frenemy who wants to play a game.
Looking ahead (and to answer some questions re: the upcoming hearing). 'Measure of A Man' is going to be a part of this story – and OMG I can't begin to describe how excited I am for it! But we've got a way to go before we get there. It will be its own standalone story in the series.
Originally, I intended it to be a two-part chapter but it's nearly five chapters now, so I thought it best to separate it.
Not to talk myself up, but it's fast becoming one of my favourite things I've written. I'll be posting it once we reach that area of our story.
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.
"That's great, Wes," Geordi said as he watched Wesley manoeuvre through the asteroid field. "Hold her steady. Just like that."
They were on the Holodeck helping Wes train on the helm and navigation controls. It would be one of his first duties as a new acting ensign.
The holodeck programme in play was set up to replicate the bridge of the Enterprise. Geordi was standing next to Wes at the helm.
"Warp one point five, sir," Data advised from the operations position.
Commander Riker was seated in the command chair.
Behind him, Tasha and Miles were at the Tactical and Science stations.
"Romulan warbird decloaking two thousand kilometres ahead," Tasha advised.
"It's closing fast," Miles added as he read the simulated sensor readings.
"They are powering weapons," Data informed them.
"Shields up. Red alert! Mister Crusher, evasive pattern delta four two one eight," Riker ordered.
The klaxons began to sound.
Wesley punched in the appropriate command into his console to start the first movement in the sequence.
The ship lurched as it sought to avoid the plasma torpedo fire from the Romulan warship.
Wesley moved into the second movement of the series intended to avoid the typical Romulan attack pattern.
He jerked as the ship shook, taking a hit.
"Shields holding, eighty-seven percent," Tasha reported.
They didn't have enough speed to complete the next movement and the ship took another hit.
"Damage reported on decks fourteen through seventeen," Miles called out.
"Mister Crusher, get us out of here," Riker commanded.
Wesley quickly input the heading to take them away from the area and toward a sector of the galaxy that had a heavier concentration of Federation ships.
Before they could make the jump to warp, the ship sustained another direct hit from the Romulans.
"Computer, pause," Riker ordered.
The programme froze.
"Alright, do you want to take a guess at what happened back there?" Geordi asked Wesley.
They wanted to offer him the opportunity to identify his own mistakes.
Wesley thought for a second as he retraced his steps.
"I forgot to boost the aft thrusters before the second movement in the sequence," Wesley answered.
"Correct," Data replied. "It is necessary in order to gain ample speed for the remaining series of movements."
Wesley nodded.
"Always remember to hit those thrusters," Geordi said.
Suddenly, he had a question.
"How do I correct it, sir? If I start and I haven't activated the thrusters, what should I do then? Because if I boost during the second sequence it will counteract the port nacelles and expose the ship as a bigger target," Wesley questioned.
He needed to know.
There was a pause in the conversation.
"Drop your pitch ninety degrees. At the same time as you punch the aft thrusters, you lower your starboard aileron" Tasha instructed.
"And hold onto your seat," Miles added with a grin.
Wesley considered the mechanics of what she was proposing.
"It's called an End Run Feint," Geordi explained. "And let's just say Starfleet frowns on it."
"There is only a twenty-one-point seven percent chance of success," Data cautioned. "And the risk involved is quite high. That move is not advisable, particularly in a ship this size."
"There's a reason heavy cruiser class ships have such thick hulls. We can take the blows, but we aren't meant to move like that," Riker warned.
It was a rolling dive at an incredible speed.
And for such a big ship, it was no easy feat.
"So, it's a theoretical possibility," Wesley said, chalking it up to one of the numerous helm sequences he needed to know but were never actually used in practical applications.
"Not just theory," Miles said with a grin. "I've seen it."
Wesley turned back to look at the chief.
"Well, felt it more like," Miles explained. "Was the first time I dislocated my shoulder."
"Ooo weee, ouch," Riker whistled as he imagined what it must have felt like.
He'd been through his own fair share of scraps on starships and was used to getting tossed around, but he didn't want to think about pulling that kind of force in a roll.
"It's an emergency manoeuvre only," Tasha said seriously. "And I do mean only as a last resort when aft thrusters are inoperable."
Data cocked his head to the side as he searched through his informational databank of Starfleet records. Cross-referencing the Chief's personnel file, he was quickly able to determine the incident to which the chief was referring.
Data glanced to Tasha briefly before looking back to Miles.
He didn't need to frown, Tasha caught his message loud and clear.
"The USS Dunkirk during the incident known as the battle of Leonis IX," Data said.
"Whoa, Chief. Was that when you served in the Border War with the Cardassians?" Wesley asked.
Miles nodded.
"Yeah. I was a young petty officer serving on the conn. We'd been criss-crossing that sector for weeks in a series of hit and run style attacks," Miles described. "They laid a trap for us. We warped in and lost our aft thrusters on the first hit. It was just a small contingent of us against a whole division of the Cardassian fleet."
"Is that where the Grissom went down?" Riker asked.
He'd had a few classmates on the vessel but there had been so many losses it was hard to keep track. Thinking back, he recalled those had been the darkest days of the Border Wars.
It had been a long year.
Thankfully, at least, it seemed the Federation now had the upper hand and Riker was grateful the Enterprise had been largely removed from that conflict.
"Aye. The Grissom, the Novosibirsk, and the," he trailed off, clicking his fingers, and looking to Tasha as he tried to recall the third ship.
It was on the tip of his tongue.
"The Vanguard," Tasha finished for him.
"You were in the Border Wars too, Lieutenant?" Wesley asked.
"Yeah," Tasha said casually before adding, "Helmsman, USS Dunkirk."
She flashed Wes a wry smile.
"You want to see how it's done?" Tasha asked.
Commander Riker sat back in his chair and grinned.
"Computer, reset simulation," Riker ordered.
Geordi got into the First Officer's seat.
Miles ducked under the rail and took the seat next to Geordi.
"Shove up," Tasha said as she took over the helm.
Commander Riker ordered the computer to produce a secondary seat next to the helm for Wesley.
Riker snapped his fingers as he was struck with an idea.
"And, Computer, please add safety restraints for all seats," Riker added after a moment.
Wesley slipped his arms through the safety restraint straps and clicked them into place.
"Everyone buckled in?" Geordi asked as he glanced around at the crew.
Miles gave one last tug on his safety straps to make sure he wasn't going to fly across the holographic bridge. Keiko would have his head if he sustained another injury.
"Computer, begin simulation," Riker ordered.
Tasha and Data nodded to one another.
"In this instance, I believe it would be prudent that you do not tell your mother, Wesley," Data advised as the ship lurched forward.
On their way out of the Holodeck, Tasha caught Geordi.
"Be along in a moment," Tasha said to Data.
Data nodded and followed Commander Riker, Worf, Miles, and Wesley to the turbolift.
"What's going on?" Geordi asked.
"I just wanted to touch base with you on the holodeck programme for Data," she said.
Geordi nodded in understanding.
"If I am reassigned-" she started to say but Geordi stopped her.
"That's not going to happen, T," Geordi assured her.
"But if it does," Tasha pressed.
"It won't," Geordi insisted.
"If it comes to it, Geordi," she said seriously. "I want to finish the programme for him. I know it will be much harder to coordinate over subspace but he's going to need it."
Geordi put his hand on her shoulder.
"Tasha, even if they stick you on a ship to Delta Quadrant – we're going to finish the Sherlock Holmes programme for Data," he promised.
"And you'll look out for him?" she asked.
"It's not going to happen," Geordi replied. "This whole thing with Walsh will blow over."
He'd never seen this upset before.
"I just, I worry about him. You know? Sometimes I think he's too gentle for this world," she stated.
Geordi understood exactly what she meant.
Data would do anything for anyone on the crew. He was loyal and considerate to a fault.
"If anything ever happened to me, I just want to know there's someone looking out for him," Tasha said.
"Tasha, where is this coming from?" Geordi questioned.
Tasha shrugged.
"I dunno," she said strangely. "Sometimes I just get these, well, feelings."
Geordi could empathise. At times he wondered if she would have been better off going into another Starfleet career. He didn't know all the details of her upbringing, but he knew enough. Enough that he wondered if she wouldn't be so fixated on death if it wasn't her job to plan for the worst possible scenario on every mission.
She'd had to grow up too fast. She'd seen too much.
And in a decade of service to Starfleet, she had a knack for being in the right place to see action – the Border Wars, the Carnelian conflict, Breen incursions, patrolling the neutral zone, and even a series of 'grey ops' missions that she couldn't comment on.
"Sometimes I think you've been in security too long," Geordi commented.
"Ouch," she said as punched his arm playfully, feigning insult. "I'm twenty-seven."
"Don't remind me," Geordi teased. "I still get depressed every time I think about the fact you were already on the Knoxville when I was still learning to pilot shuttles."
It had been a source of constant bickering between the two for years. Tasha was technically three years younger than Geordi, but her young admission to Starfleet Academy had meant she'd graduated before Geordi had even been admitted.
"Come on old man," she said as she threw her arm around him. "Let's get you a drink."
Ten Forward was crowded but Geordi spotted Commander Riker and the others in the corner.
"Looks like they managed to snag a table," he said as he waved to them.
"Tomorrow we'll get started on the transporter coils," Miles explained. "These galaxy glass ships require a lot more maintenance than you'd think."
"Can't wait," Wesley beamed.
The whole team had pulled together in an effort to prep Wesley for his duties as acting ensign.
"So have you picked a major yet?" Geordi asked.
As of their last conversation, Wesley still hadn't decided on a focus for his application. He was leaning heavily toward Probability and Quantum Mechanics, but he wasn't entirely sold.
He could see the appeal of Command.
Propulsion Systems was intriguing.
And there was Theoretical Warp Mechanics to consider.
"I feel like there's so much to learn," he said. "I can't decide, and they are all so fascinating."
"Have you considered selecting more than one area of primary study?" Data inquired.
Wesley sighed.
"I'm afraid I might burn out," Wesley confessed.
"You know it's one of the things they look for and I don't just mean when it comes time for assignments," Riker advised. "Promotions and duty schedules often take into account dual or triple degrees."
The group nodded in agreement.
"I don't think I would have scored this posting without my degrees in Command and Diplomacy," Riker went on.
"Although Probability and Quantum Mechanics and Exobiology are radically different fields of study, I am grateful for the perspective they provide as we carry out missions," Data commented.
"And there's no way I'd be Chief Engineer on the flagship if I hadn't gotten my degree from the Daystrom Institute in Transwarp Mechanics before joining the Academy," Geordi added.
Tasha knew they were trying to be helpful, but she could see it wasn't having the desired effect.
Wesley's expression grew increasingly nervous.
"Hey," she said as she took his hand. "You shouldn't feel pressured to do anything more than you're comfortable with. Getting into Starfleet Academy is an accomplishment enough. You have plenty of time."
The guys got the hint.
Wesley smiled shyly.
"Thanks, Lieutenant," he said.
"Just do me one favour," Tasha said suddenly. "Don't go into security. Your brain's too valuable to get knocked around, alright?"
"Ah, stop!" Wes replied as she ruffled his hair.
Outside the doors to Ten Forward, Captain Picard was passing on his way to the library.
He was stopped by the sight of Wesley and some of the officers.
The Captain stood there for a few moments, observing his team. He was grateful they had taken the young acting ensign under their collective wing.
It certainly made his role of encouraging Wesley much easier.
"Why don't you join us?" a familiar voice said from behind him.
Captain Picard turned around to find himself face to face with Beverly.
She had been watching him for the last few minutes.
"Doctor," he said, feeling sheepish he had been caught.
"Captain," she replied with a knowing smile.
Silence fell between the pair.
"Well, I should, uh," he pointed down the corridor.
"You're sure you wouldn't like to join us?" Beverly questioned.
It was a serious invitation.
"It wouldn't be appropriate," Picard replied reluctantly. "Goodnight, Doctor."
Later that night, Data and Tasha were back in her quarters. It was one of his nights without night watch duty and they were hoping to finish the last bit of their current book.
"Elizabeth's spirits soon rising to playfulness again, she wanted Mr Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. How could you begin?" Tasha read from the PADD. "What could set you off in the first place?"
They were seated on the sofa in the main room of her quarters.
"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or words, which laid the foundation," she went on.
She stopped and looked at Data.
"It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun," she recited from memory.
Data's head twitched briefly as it took him a moment to catch the meaning.
After a second, the corner of his mouth curved upwards. Tasha flashed him a million-watt smile in response.
He opened his mouth to say something but, before he could, the door chimed.
Tasha looked to the door and then back to Data.
"I wonder who that is," she said as her brow furrowed.
It was a late, but not entirely unreasonable hour.
Tasha got up off the sofa and went to the door.
It slid open to reveal none other than young Wesley Crusher.
"Acting Ensign Crusher?" Tasha asked.
"Hi Lieutenant," he replied apprehensively.
She could see he was under duress.
"Everything alright?" she inquired.
"I'm sorry I know it's really late and you're probably going to sleep or doing something important and it's not your job, but I can't sleep, and I can't stop thinking about my Starfleet entrance examination and the paperwork is due next week and if I don't get in, I'm going to let Captain Picard down and my mom and-" he said rapidly.
He stopped to catch his breath.
"Can we talk?" he asked.
"Why don't you come in," she said as she stepped back and waved him inside. "Can I get you anything?"
"Hello, Wesley," Data said from the sofa.
Wes froze.
He felt horrible.
He hadn't meant to interrupt their time together – especially when there was the possibility that one or both of them could be reassigned at the upcoming hearing.
"I-I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "We can do this another time."
Tasha followed his line of sight and shook her head, smiling.
"It's fine," she assured him.
Tasha steered him over to the table in her quarters and then sat down opposite of him.
"What's on your mind?"
"What if this is too soon? What if I make a fool of myself at the Academy?" Wesley asked, his features etched with concern. "Most of the cadets will be a lot older."
Tasha nodded.
"I read the average age of admission is twenty-one," Wesley went on. "I'm so afraid of messing up."
"That's natural," Tasha replied easily.
"Mom said you were my age when you got accepted to the Academy," Wesley said.
"Yeah," Tasha confirmed. "And it wasn't easy. And I was the youngest person in all my classes. And I was afraid of messing up. And my first roommate was a horribly wretched Lanterran that had the worst smelling feet in the galaxy. Just manky."
It had the desired effect of getting a smile out of Wesley.
"Don't be so afraid of messing up that you never start," she advised. "You learn from mistakes. You won't learn if you stay stuck in the same place because you're scared to jump."
Wesley sat back in his chair as he thought about Tasha's statement.
"I'm also worried that by starting on a Starship I'm going to be at a disadvantage. A lot of candidates have degrees or certificates of study before applying," Wesley went on. "I'm just a kid starting as an acting ensign."
"There's nothing wrong with starting as an acting ensign on a ship," Tasha told him. "I did. And Chief O'Brien. Lieutenant Hawk. It's good experience."
"The practical experience gained from service on a starship is invaluable when compared to theoretical knowledge from study," Data chimed in.
"Why don't you tell me something you are looking forward to?" she asked.
His face lit up.
"The nanotechnology lab," he answered excitedly. "They've got nanobots capable of carrying out warp core maintenance in high-radiation environments without taking the core offline."
"Tell me all about it," Tasha prompted as she leaned forward in what Data suspected was an excellent effort at feigning interest.
Wesley stayed for an hour talking about the nanotechnology lab and his theory for other applications of the nanobots.
Data watched with fascination, occasionally joining the conversation, as Wes began to relax.
Eventually, Tasha's combadge pinged.
"Doctor Crusher for Lieutenant Yar," Beverly's voice rang out.
"Oh jeez," Wesley said as he looked at the time. "Mum's probably worried sick."
"Yar here, go ahead," Tasha replied as she tapped her badge.
"Is my son with you?" Beverly inquired.
At 23:00 when he wasn't in his bed, Beverly had asked the computer for Wesley's location.
"Yes. Sorry, doctor. He's here," Tasha replied.
"No apology necessary, can you just remind him to get to bed?" Beverly asked.
"I'm on my way mom," Wesley replied.
He got up, embarrassed by the late hour and for keeping them up so late.
"I'm really sorry Lieutenant," he said to Tasha before turning to Data. "Sir."
"You're fine," Tasha assured him. "Anytime. Now get to bed before you're in trouble with your mum."
Tasha stretched and got up from the table.
"I think it's time I went to bed too," Tasha said with a yawn.
Data nodded in understanding. They would finish the rest of their book another night.
Ten minutes later they were snug in bed. Tasha was nearly asleep, and Data had begun to shut down his extraneous processes and initiate his sleep programme.
"Tasha, may I ask a question?" Data inquired.
"Mmm?" she responded hazily.
"You do not share an interest in nanotechnology. Please do not be offended by this statement, but it is far from your area of expertise," he said, choosing his words carefully. "That is not an attempt to demean your intelligence but rather a-"
He had found his android speech pattern often offended others unintentionally.
"I know, honey," she assured him.
"Was it your intention in feigning interest to bolster confidence in Wesley?" he asked.
"Sometimes kids just need to talk about what they like," she replied. "Remind themselves it isn't all scary."
"You are very good with children," Data commented as he pulled her back against him.
"Data-" she started to say.
"That is merely an observation based on watching you interact with children in your role as security chief and not an attempt to solicit procreation," he added quickly sensing she may have misunderstood.
He felt her chuckle silently.
"At least not yet," he added.
"Don't tempt me," she replied.
"Good afternoon, Data," Deanna said as she opened the door to her office.
"Hello, Counsellor," he replied politely.
Deanna instructed him to take a seat on the sofa. She took a seat opposite of him in her favourite chair.
It was Data's seventh counselling session and he found that he was looking forward to each new session with growing anticipation. It felt good to have someone to talk to regarding his emotional development.
They spoke for a few minutes discussing pleasantries before diving into the issue that had been at the forefront of Data's thoughts.
"The hearing is in four days," Data said bluntly.
"And how would you describe your feelings?" Deanna asked.
She didn't need him to state them aloud to know, but she wanted Data to verbalise them. Identifying his own emotions was an important step in his development.
"I am anxious," Data replied. "My chronometer gives me a perception of time that is far more precise than the human concept of the passage of time."
It was with him every moment of the day. He couldn't shake it.
"The outcome of the hearing is unpredictable," Data said. "And it will begin in three days, eighteen hours, nine minutes, and twenty-seven seconds."
Deanna nodded.
"That means, excluding unknown phenomena or a catastrophic event, subtracting our duty shifts, and accounting for the hours in which her organic form requires nutrition and rest, I am guaranteed eighteen hours of time with Tasha," Data said sadly.
Deanna suddenly felt guilty. Tonight was girls' night.
Deanna, Beverly, and Tasha typically spent two evenings a week hanging out.
Since Tasha began her relationship with Data, they had cut it down to one night a week.
Deanna had been looking forward to it for ages – between the Traveller emergency and the situation with the Edo planet it had been nearly three weeks since they had last been able to get together.
However, Deanna thought it may be best to cancel.
It could be their last time to hang out if Tasha were to be reassigned.
But she couldn't deprive Data of that opportunity.
"Do you have anything special planned?" Deanna asked.
"Yes," Data replied simply.
Deanna took the hint and did not press further.
"However, if Lieutenant Yar or myself is to be reassigned, it is my intention to carry on our relationship," Data confessed. "I find that there are a great many things I would us to experience together."
Counsellor Troi looked at Data and waited for a more thorough explanation.
"I would like to explore," he paused and took a breath. "Commitment.
"As in marriage?" Deanna asked to clarify.
Data cocked his head to the side.
"Commitment takes many forms," Data clarified. "It is my understanding most humanoid cultures within the Federation do have a concept of marriage or marriage-like bonding. But in my study of alien cultures, there are many species and cultures that practice other forms of commitment."
Deanna knew he was correct. But it was rare among
"The people of Feltor VIII observe the practice of cohabitation agreements. Osprics follow a strict ritual of a three-day mating ceremony intended to produce offspring that are raised communally among a group known as household unit," Data explained. "And in my study of Turkanan cultural norms, marriage does not exist. Cultural expectations of commitment vary widely from clan to clan."
"Have you spoken of this with Tasha?" Deanna asked.
She was concerned.
Tasha was pretty closed-off when it came to discussing the planet of her birth. In many ways, she felt ashamed of it. She saw Turkana as a prime example of why the Federation and Starfleet were necessary in order to ensure safety and prosperity.
Since the collapse of the Federation colony nearly a hundred years earlier, Turkana had become a backwater.
Deanna suspected Tasha would react negatively to any concept of adhering to a Turkanan tradition of commitment.
"Not exactly," Data admitted. "I have shared that I would like to have a family and I have asked for her thoughts on the matter."
Deanna's eyebrows shot up.
Data and Tasha had only been together for about six months.
She had a hard time believing Tasha would have welcomed that conversation.
"Not at this time," Data said as he realised the counsellor's surprise. "As humans say, 'down the road'."
Deanna nodded in understanding.
"I believe the situation with the Traveller and the possibility of being stranded so far from the alpha quadrant brought these thoughts to the forefront," Data acknowledged. "Although, I have considered them before. A feeling, if you will, that has grown much stronger since beginning my relationship."
They spoke for another forty minutes as Data shared some of his concerns regarding the upcoming hearing. Deanna was more than happy to discuss with him the possibility of Tasha or his reassignment and shared some counselling advice on long-distance relationships.
"But I think we can cross that bridge if and when we come to it," Deanna said with a sympathetic smile.
She was confident that the overwhelming evidence against Walsh was more than enough to demonstrate that these disciplinary reports against Data and Tasha were retaliatory in nature.
Data left, as he always did, feeling a sense of relief after having discussed his emotional state.
As soon as Data was gone, Deanna tapped her combadge and suggested to Beverly that they cancel girls' night.
Beverly agreed and offered to reach out to Tasha.
"Doctor Crusher to Lieutenant Yar," she said as she tapped her communicator.
Tasha responded a moment later.
"I was thinking maybe we could reschedule tonight for another time," Beverly said. "Sometime after the hearing."
There was a brief pause.
"No," Tasha responded. "I -no. If something happens at the hearing, I don't want leave without having-"
"Tasha," Beverly said. "If something happens at the hearing, I would never be able to forgive myself for taking away time you could have spent with your, well, you know what I'm saying."
Beverly knew Tasha and Data had kept their relationship pretty close to the chest. It was clear they still weren't sure what to call one another and she didn't want to upset her friend.
"Look, I want to spend time with you and Deanna," Tasha replied. "Please."
The three women had become fast friends.
It was something they were all grateful for. They all had their own reasons why forming close friendships had been difficult.
Tasha's childhood and service record had meant good friends were hard to come by. Deanna's empathic abilities often meant people felt intimidated around her. And in Beverly's role as a physician, it was a natural barrier to becoming close with others outside of the senior officers.
In short, the three were inseparable and Tasha couldn't bear the thought of leaving without having one last proper girls' night.
"Alright," Beverly said. "Looking forward to it."
"Great, I'll see you at 18:00," Tasha said.
At 16:00, Tasha was about to head out from shift when the ship went to red alert. An experimental plant-based research project had caused a noxious pollen to be emitted through the air. Whatever was in the pollen was causing aggression.
Worst of all, it had leaked into the lab next-door where Professor Huugard was working with a family of western gorillas as part of his xenolinguistics research.
Beverly and Tasha had responded – along with others – to the initial call in the original lab when they heard the noises coming from next door.
Tasha, Commander Riker, and Worf had rushed out just in time to see Professor Huugard thrown through a plate of glass.
It had taken them nearly an hour to catch and contain all of the infected humans and primates and another half-hour for Doctor Crusher to treat them with a sedative.
Fortunately, the effect of the pollen had been previously catalogued, and the cure was well-known and could be easily replicated.
Data had checked in with Tasha via their combadges as soon as the situation was under control. He'd offered to come lend a hand, but Tasha had assured him she was fine.
However, the situation did leave both Doctor Crusher and Tasha with considerable paperwork.
"Funny how we still call it paperwork," Beverly commented as they typed away on their PADDs.
"You know we aren't far from my quarters if you wanted to finish it up there," Tasha offered. "Sorry it won't be a 'real' girls' night."
"That actually sounds lovely," Beverly agreed.
They radioed Deanna to meet them there and quickly headed for the turbolift.
When they reached Tasha's quarters, Deanna was already waiting outside.
"Sorry I didn't have a chance to prepare anything," Tasha said.
"Don't worry," Deanna replied. "I'm just glad we get to spend time together."
"Just give me a minute to change out of this and I'll-" Tasha stopped in tracks as she took the sight before her.
Her quarters had been rearranged to allow for more seating around the coffee table in the main room. There were trays of snacks laid out along with a deck of cards and a Rylic'k board – a Klingon boardgame Tasha was fond of playing.
On the table there was a bottle of red wine, a bottle of white wine chilling in a bucket of ice, a bottle of Tasha's preferred whiskey, and a bottle of the Andorian rum Deanna enjoyed.
There were three large, metallic cups frosted with ice from being chilled.
Deanna stepped over to the table and picked up one of the large, metallic cups and smelled it.
"Chocolate, caramel," she said with excitement. "And ice cream."
"That is for you, Counsellor," Data said emerging from the bedroom. "Andorian dark rum, ice cream, chocolate, and caramel blended with the Betazoid chocolate candies and whipped cream."
Deanna grinned as she plopped down on Tasha's chair.
"And this is for you, Doctor," he said as he stepped over to the table. "White wine, peaches, strawberry ice cream, vanilla bean, and crushed ice."
He handed Beverly the second frozen glass.
"Thank you," she said with a smile.
"Whiskey, pineapple ice cream, mangos, and jalapenos," Data said as he passed the third glass to Tasha. "With a cherry on top, of course."
"Spicy and sweet," Tasha said in astonishment.
"As are you," Data whispered. "Just the way I like it."
"Data, you are without a doubt the perfect bartender," Deanna said appreciatively.
"Mmmmm, this is great," Beverly said as she took a sip.
"Thank you, Counsellor, Doctor," he replied.
He gave them a short nod and turned back to Tasha.
"You put all this together?" Tasha asked.
"I hope that is alright," he said apologetically. "I did not mean to intrude. In light of the situation in the lab, I assumed you would not have time to prepare for the evening. I also surmised you would be in need of recuperation."
He eyed the bruise that was beginning to form stretching from her eye, across her cheek, and down her jawline.
"Well, I did get tossed around by a 42 stone gorilla," she smiled.
Data leaned in close so as to avoid being overheard.
"I will tend to that later," he offered before quickly adding. "If you wish."
Tasha smiled shyly in response.
"You are not angry?" Data asked.
He realised it was, perhaps, an invasion of her living space.
"Not at all," she assured him. "This was very thoughtful."
"Then I shall leave you to it," Data said simply.
He turned to Deanna and Beverly and bid them goodnight.
"I'll page you," Tasha called after him as he stepped into the corridor.
As soon as the door closed, Beverly started laughing uncontrollably.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she said as she clutched her stomach.
"What's so funny?" Deanna asked.
"I just – if he puts this much effort into setting up for your friends, I'm not sure I want to know what he does for you when you're, you know, alone," Beverly said.
Tasha took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa.
"That's a lie, I want to know everything," Beverly added. "It's only going to make me feel depressed but please tell me so I can live vicariously through you."
Tasha bit back a grin.
"I think it's sweet," Deanna commented. "Considerate. And you shouldn't have to share anything more than you're comfortable with."
"Sometimes it doesn't feel real, you know?" Tasha replied. "Like it's too good to be true."
A dark look fell on her face.
"And now that the hearing's coming up, I can't stop thinking about all the time I wasted before. Pushing him away when he was just trying to take care of me," Tasha said as she stirred the straw around her drink. "He's too good for me. And now he's going to be facing a hearing and it's all my fault."
"No," Beverly said as she gripped Tasha's shoulder.
"This wasn't your fault, Tasha," Deanna reminded her. "And I don't believe Data would look at it that way."
"I don't know what I'm going to do if we get reassigned," Tasha confessed. "I know we haven't been together very long, but I just get this feeling, you know? Like it's meant to be."
"Well, you are both at a stage in your career where you know what you want and you're ready to explore a relationship together," Deanna advised. "There's no right or wrong amount of time for a relationship to develop."
"You know I fell in love at first sight," Beverly said wistfully.
"Jack?" Deanna asked excitedly.
Beverly shook her head.
"No, I didn't meet Jack until later. Took months to figure it out with him," Beverly admitted.
Both Deanna and Tasha looked at Beverly expectantly for further explanation.
"Oh, I loved Jack," Beverly clarified.
"Of course, you did but - you can't just throw that out and leave us hanging in suspense," Deanna said.
"You don't mean," Tasha trailed off and left the name unspoken.
She didn't have to say 'Jean-Luc Picard.' They all knew to whom she was referring.
"Let's just say sometimes when you have a connection with someone you just know," Beverly said. "You can pick up after years and it's like not even a day has passed."
Deanna could feel it. She knew exactly what Beverly meant.
She had experienced the same sensation when she unexpectedly met her Imzadi years later when they first began serving together on the Enterprise.
"Can I tell you two something?" Tasha asked.
"Always," Deanna said.
"Certainly," Beverly replied.
Tasha took a deep breath and sat back against the windowsill.
"He asked me about my thoughts on proliferation," Tasha confessed. "And I'll admit I was a little taken by surprise, but not unpleasantly so."
Deanna's eyebrows shot up.
"Tasha, you don't mean-" Deanna asked.
Tasha nodded.
"I don't want to seem indelicate but how would that exactly, well, work?" Deanna asked.
"I don't know," Tasha laughed and threw her hands up. "I don't have a clue. But I'm sure we'd figure it out when it comes to it."
"When it comes to it?" Beverly asked, noting Tasha's choice of language. "Not if?"
Tasha brought her hand to chin as she pondered the thought.
"Yeah, when. I like the sound of when," she smiled before quickly adding. "A good long time from now 'when'."
"Cheers to when," Beverly said as she raised her glass.
"When, indeed," Deanna grinned and met Beverly's glass.
"To when," Tasha added as they clinked their glasses.
While Tasha was spending time with Beverly and Deanna, Data met Geordi in his lab to work on a warp coil they had been playing around with.
He enjoyed spending time with Geordi, but he also found relief in routine.
"You know Starbase 118 has this Orion disco that I've heard is an absolute must," Geordi said brightly. "I thought maybe we could all go there after the hearing."
"Would that not be inappropriate if the outcome of the hearing is unfavourable?" Data questioned.
"It won't be," Geordi asserted as he traded his sonic driver for a power readout scanner. "There's no way anyone in Starfleet is going to look at all those charges against that little creep and rule otherwise."
"I have calculated a fourteen-point nine percent chance that both Lieutenant Yar and I will be reassigned, a seventeen-point two percent chance I will be reassigned, and a twenty-six-point four percent chance Lieutenant Yar will be reassigned," Data explained. "The odds are unsettling."
Geordi set down his scanner. He grabbed Data's shoulders and spun him toward him.
"Data, sometimes you gotta say screw the odds," Geordi said firmly. "There are some things in the universe that just work out. Because they have to. Because they're meant to be."
Data opened his mouth to respond.
"Ah- no! You and Tasha are one of those things," Geordi said as shook Data. "Now stop thinking about it. You're going to be fine and we're all going to celebrate afterward."
Geordi let go of Data and resumed his scan.
"Geordi, do you really think Tasha and I are-" Data started to say but didn't get to finish his question.
"It's inevitable, Data," Geordi assured him. "Don't think you're so slick I can't see the way you two look at each other."
The corner of Data's mouth curved upward as he detached one of the outer polymer protective barriers.
"I must admit that the thought of being separated is unbearable," Data said aloud. "While I am pleased she is spending time with Counsellor Troi and Doctor Crusher this evening, I find I am anxious to return later."
Geordi grinned mischievously.
"Data, you rascal," Geordi teased.
Data's head twitched as he accessed his information bank to assess the meaning of Geordi's use of the term 'rascal' in the context of their conversation.
His mouth parted slightly as he understood.
"Geordi, I did not mean to imply anything improper. My statement was merely and observation that I enjoy Tasha's company."
"But that's not what you were thinking about," Geordi laughed as he punched Data's arm.
"Geordi," Data said flatly. "There are a great many activities that we enjoy including reading and yoga that are not of a sexual nature."
"Whatever you say, Data," Geordi said as he shook his head. "Whatever you say."
They worked in silence for a moment before Data spoke.
"Although I do have plans to spend a significant portion of the evening before the hearing engaged in activities of a physical nature," Data said.
"I knew it!" Geordi replied as he clapped his hands together. "So, what have you got planned? That holodeck beach programme everybody's been talking about? Or a picnic in the arboretum? Oooo, Miles was telling me he took Keiko to the junction of Jefferies tubes J17 and S10 on their last date night. A little cosy if you know what I mean."
Geordi was a romantic. He loved planning dates and helping his friends coordinate romantic gestures. Despite his own bad luck in finding the romance, he certainly knew his stuff when it came to attention to detail and preparing.
"You must promise that you will not mention the details to anyone," Data said. "Especially Tasha."
"You have my solemn word," Geordi pledged.
Two hours later, Tasha bid goodnight to her friends. It had been a pleasant evening, but there was certainly a cloud hanging over it. None of them could shake the feeling that it may be the last time they would get to do a girls' night on the Enterprise.
Tasha heard the door to quarters slide open as she cleaned up.
"I will take care of that," Data advised as he entered the room. "I can tend to it after you've gone to sleep."
"Why don't we do it together? Then it's done," Tasha suggested.
"If that is your wish," he replied.
"It is," she said as she stopped to look at him. "I don't want you to step away once we're in bed."
It didn't take long for the two of them to clean up the empty glasses and leftover food.
In a matter of minutes, they had her quarters rearranged the way she liked.
"That's better," she sighed as she looked at the room.
Data scooped her up.
"Now, if you will permit me to take care of you," he said.
"No protest here," she smiled as she put her hands up to signal mock surrender.
Later they lay awake in a tangle of limbs, neither tired enough to sleep but both too cosy to move. Data had ordered the computer to drop the temperature controls a few degrees.
Tasha was stretched across his torso, her head resting comfortably against his chest as he traced his fingers up and down the length of her back.
He was struck by the memory of how right it had felt the first time he had held her in that manner and how accustomed his neural net was to such input.
"You're incredible, you know that right?" Tasha asked.
She could hear the circuits firing in his positronic brain as he tried to assess the meaning of her statement.
Tasha got up and crawled on top of him.
"And I mean in every way," she added as she rested her forehead against his. "Not just your exceptional capabilities in matters of passion."
She liked to tease him by mocking his formalised speech.
To her delight, Data smiled.
"I endeavour to perform adequately," he replied.
He'd certainly developed his own sense of humour during their time together.
They stayed like that for a moment, neither saying anything.
"Perhaps you should go to sleep," Data suggested.
"Not yet," Tasha said sadly. "I just – well – I want to remember this feeling if, if-"
She sniffled.
"You have a perfect memory," she said. "Sometimes I'm jealous of that."
"Do you remember what I told you when we first spoke of our mutual affection for one another after your return from Ligon II?" Data asked.
"We said a lot of things," Tasha replied.
Data rolled them over so that she was on her back.
"I told you that I accepted your invitation to your bed because the sound of your laughter is enjoyable. I find you to be a clever and intriguing officer and that you are aesthetically pleasing," he said seriously. "Those statements are as true today as they were then. And they will remain true whether we are nine decks or ninety-thousand lightyears away from one another."
Tasha felt her eyes start to well up.
"Please do not cry," he said as he stared down at her.
Data tucked her bangs behind her ear.
"One thing I did not tell you that day is that I have observed on numerous occasions you have a tendency to bite your lip at the moment of climax in a manner that has nearly overwhelmed my neural net. And while that is mechanically disconcerting, I find that I enjoy the sensation," he informed her.
Tasha looked away as her face flushed.
Data cupped her face and turned her gaze back to him.
"Do not be embarrassed. No one has ever had that effect on my system. It is something I take pleasure in," he confessed.
He cocked his head at her.
"And with your permission, something I would very much like to repeat now," Data said.
Across the ship, Captain Picard was just settling in after another long day aboard the Enterprise. The latest situation in the lab with the gorillas was more evidence that he couldn't afford to have Lieutenant Yar or Data reassigned.
His crew knew their roles well.
Data had readily stepped up to handle command of the ship while he joined the team to oversee what was happening.
At the same time, Lieutenant Yar had quickly and safely diffused the situation, secured the impacted personnel and animals, and coordinated effortlessly with the science team and medical staff.
Jean-Luc ordered a cuppa from the replicator and sat down at the desk in his Ready Room.
He opened his PADD and began to read through his messages.
"Incoming communication from Starbase 118," the computer informed him.
Jean-Luc sighed and threw his head back.
He did not want to read another statement regarding the upcoming hearing.
Reluctantly, he opened the written message.
But as he processed the contents, his demeanour shifted.
The Captain sat forward and grinned as read the contents of the late-night message.
A friend – a very dear, very old friend – was on Starbase 118.
Small miracles. Jean-Luc thought with a smile as he relaxed.
Three days later, the Enterprise was a day out from arriving at Starbase 118. They had been making good time and were due to arrive when scheduled, when they intercepted an urgent emergency beacon from the Federation colony in the Sigma Three solar system.
An accidental explosion had devastated the mining operation.
Although they were due for the hearing, the Enterprise was the only ship close enough with the medical facilities capable of providing proper assistance.
Captain Picard had sent a subspace transmission to Starbase 118 and redirected the Enterprise for a new course at maximum warp.
They were an hour into their redirected course, and everyone was on edge.
"Include a burn unit with each kit. Upon arrival, we'll need to triage the most critically injured. Beam them directly to cargo bay six," Doctor Crusher explained.
"I've got eight teams ready to assist in rescue and recovery," Tasha informed Beverly.
"We are receiving additional information," Worf said as he analysed an incoming transmission. "The number of colonists at the site is five hundred and four."
"Are you prepared for that many, Doctor?" Captain Picard asked as he turned to Doctor Crusher.
"I believe so," Beverly responded.
It would certainly be a test of their medical and team, but she was confident in their ability to handle it.
After all, what choice did they have? They had an obligation to provide any assistance they could.
"Captain, we are now at warp nine point one, sir," Geordi advised from the helm.
"Which will bring us to the colony in three point two hours, sir," Data added.
They were flying – literally and figuratively – as they knew time was of the essence.
Commander Riker was scanning through the schematics of the mining site. The impact and nature of the explosion suggested the cause was a methane-like gas seeping in from the underground. It would be a dangerous mission with the possibility of further explosions.
Without warning, Geordi, Data, and Tasha picked up an alarming reading on their respective sensor arrays.
"Captain, I'm picking up a forcefield out there of some kind. It's almost-"
On the viewscreen, they watched with horror as the chain-link shield appeared ahead of them.
"Identical to the grid we encountered at Farpoint," Data stated. "Q-entity, sir."