Author's Note: Thank you for the likes, kudos, comments, and messages on Twitter!
This was intended to be the conclusion of our black hole story arc.
Aaaannnd then it got really long. After cutting about 3k words I decided I just couldn't bring myself to cut any more. Instead, I split it into two chapters.
Our roadmap of what's on the horizon for the next few chapters:
- The introduction of Lwaxana Troi and Worf's parents
- An evening at Ten Aft
- The Starfleet Academy Reunion
- The Battle
- The Big Goodbye
As always, if you like my works or want to stay up to date with my art, comics, or just like chatting about the fandom you can join me TheTartanTart on Twitter.
"I can hear the hum from the shield protecting the probe," Data said. "It is steady. Your ears would consider it unwavering, but there is a 3.7 decibel variance output in the sound."
Data was sitting on the coffee table in Deanna's office.
She was seated across from him in her customary chair as she guided him through an exercise to process his feelings during their latest mission.
"The exposed circuitry under my cranial unit does not contain any sensors," Data explained. "However, I can feel the cold temperature of exposed space on the bioplast that covers my face. It is -237 degrees."
Data paused. His brow furrowed.
"There is no light within the probe. I can see in the dark, but there is nothing to view other than the casing," Data described as his features contorted in pain. "It is so very like the crate in which Commander Maddox held me for so long."
The ordeal of travelling in that probe had, in many ways, retraumatised Data.
During his time in captivity under Maddox, the threat of disassembly had been constant. Maddox had abused him – removing his forearms or leg components. It offered Maddox time to study Data's specifications without needing compliance from the android and served to deter any disobedience.
Worst of all, it objectified Data – dehumanising him into nothing more than a machine.
It had taken all of his nerve to go through with getting into the probe.
Part of why Data had demanded Geordi be the one to place him inside was a fear of anyone else seeing just how terrified he was.
Data hated that he had forced Geordi to endure that. As Geordi had lowered him inside, both men shared a look of understanding that spoke to how afraid they were.
There had been a moment – just before Geordi had shut the lid – in which Data had nearly lost his composure.
Internally, Data had felt like he wanted to scream, to beg for anything other than the encased darkness that awaited him.
The loneliness was unbearable, the dark a torment.
"I ran through a list of all known elements to pass the time. I recounted the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in their entirety. Mostly, I sang," Data recalled. "I would have wept were I capable of doing so without my torso unit."
The biofluid sacs that produced tears located in his cranial unit were reliant upon his central servo pump located in his chest cavity.
"As strange as this may sound, Counsellor, I believe the sensation of weeping would have provided relief," Data confessed.
He opened his eyes.
"If we are able to reattach my torso and limb units, I would like to run a full diagnostic on the matter," Data said. "As I believe this must be a malfunction."
Deanna smiled.
"There's nothing wrong with feeling relief from crying," Deanna assured him. "Sometimes humans need a good cry."
Data opened his mouth to protest but Deanna beat him to it.
"Even you, Data," Deanna added.
"Thank you, Counsellor," Data replied in earnest.
For nearly an hour, Data and Deanna had been working through a series of exercises to work through the emotional toll of his ordeal. And, like Tasha, Deanna shared concerns that it would set Data back in his emotional development.
It was easier for him to deal with the fear by suppressing his emotions.
While Data was better at compartmentalising his feelings better than most, it did not mean those feelings disappeared.
From the first part of his counselling session, Deanna had learned just how frustrating it was for Data to adapt to his new situation. The crew had been supportive, and Data was hopeful that upon Geordi's return they would be able to reattach his cranial unit.
"It is also possible that this detachment may allow Geordi a better look into my cranial unit structure and, perhaps, an answer to these changes," Data offered.
Between the Traveller, Q, the disciplinary hearing, the Cardassian occupation of Starbase 118, and the Romulan incident – the past two months had been filled with one situation after the next.
Data had gotten very little time to process these changes in his development. Geordi and Data's research had been forced to take a backseat.
Although the majority of these changes appeared to be mental and emotional – there were physical changes too. Nearly four months earlier, he had inexplicably developed the ability to taste.
As much as he welcomed these newfound sensations, a part of Data was still concerned.
Tasha had insisted his feelings were always there.
But she shared his desire to learn more about how and why these senses seemed to appear now.
"And you and Geordi still have no explanation or theory?" Deanna inquired.
The possible mechanical explanations for this were well outside of Deanna's wheelhouse, but she was curious if there had been any progress on that matter. In Deanna's opinion, Data's sentience and status as a unique lifeform was unquestionable. She didn't view Data as a machine any longer – he was inherently a person.
Geordi called it 'android puberty,' but Data was not entirely convinced.
"No Counsellor, that remains a mystery," Data informed her.
The Enterprise was exciting, but the nature of her importance as the Flagship meant that she afforded little time to research for the purpose of discovery alone.
"Many humanoid species have thousands of years of research into their anatomy and psychology. You have textbooks and generations of research," Data said wistfully. "As the only one of my kind, I simply do not."
Data looked up at Deanna and met her eyes.
"But it does not mean that I will stop searching," Data said with a sense of faith. "Perhaps someday I will discover or father more of my kind."
"I think you've got a good head on your shoulders, Data," Deanna said with a wink.
Tasha closed the cargo bay door on the Calypso and reactivated the shields. She checked the hull pressure reading.
Next, she punched in the appropriate command to activate the environmental controls in the cargo bay. Their predictions estimated the team in the shuttle would likely be nearing the end of their energy reserves. They would be cold and there would be little oxygen.
Once that was complete, Tasha jumped out of the Operations seat. In two paces, she was at the Helm. Tasha keyed in the appropriate command to plot her course. It would take the Calypso within two kilometres of the event horizon in order to slingshot around the black hole.
The Calypso was at maximum impulse power and closing fast.
846 metres.
371 metres.
Tasha tried to control her breathing as she watched the distance close.
98 metres.
She glanced at the hull scan readings. Everything appeared in order.
So far, so good.
The reinforced hull was holding under the stress.
She could feel the speed increase.
18 metres to target.
She blinked.
The reading reached zero.
At the exact moment required, Tasha tapped the console to engage the nacelles at Warp 9.3.
The warp bubble formed, and she felt the ship engage as they moved through it.
Her throat was tight as she watched as the speed sensor readings increased first Warp 9.4 and then a moment later Warp 9.5.
She counted the seconds as they ticked by, each one feeling like a lifetime.
C'mon.
It held at 9.5 for nearly four seconds before it clicked to Warp 9.6.
"Ha!" she laughed in triumph.
The Calypso had reached and was maintaining escape velocity.
"Yes!" she shouted as she slammed her fist down on the Helm console.
A moment after impact she hissed sharply and clenched her fist to her chest.
That's going to bruise. She chastised herself.
"You punched the console, didn't you?" Beverly asked as she stepped through the arch and onto the holodeck.
"Computer, end programme," Sonya Gomez ordered.
"Mmm hmm," Tasha groaned.
She shook out her hand in an effort to dull the pain.
"Forgot the safety parameters were off," Tasha confessed.
"There's a reason we don't typically pump people full of stimulants like this," Beverly cautioned. "It tends to make them forget they're vulnerable."
She whipped out her medical tricorder and scanned the Security Chief.
Tasha knew there was truth in Beverly's words. She felt charged up – like she'd drank one too many Raktajino's and could do anything. The blood was pounding in her ears and there was an overwhelming urge to burn off the energy that was coursing through her body.
Beverly watched as she fidgeted, barely able to stand still enough for her scan.
"I'm going to give you a depressant so we can regulate your system," Beverly advised. "You're going to drop. And you're going to drop hard."
Tasha nodded in understanding.
She needed to sleep.
Beverly administered the appropriate hypospray to the side of Tasha's neck.
"Crusher to Picard," Beverly said as she tapped her combadge.
"Yes, Doctor?" he replied.
"Lieutenant Yar has successfully retained consciousness during the simulation," Beverly informed him.
The three women beamed at one another.
"Then you have a go," Picard ordered. "Rest up. You'll depart at 09:00 hours."
Tasha put her hands on her hips and exhaled heavily.
It wasn't just the euphoric sense of ease from Beverly's relaxant, Tasha felt like she could finally breathe.
They were going to rescue the away team – they were going to save Will, Wes, Miles, Geordi, Worf.
And Data.
Tasha felt serene.
"I'll get your pre-flight check completed straight away," Sonya said quickly. "You know I just think you're the coolest."
"This was your idea, Ensign," Tasha replied. "And well done."
Sonya nodded and turned on her heel to go.
She took three steps before racing back and practically tackling Tasha in warm embrace.
"I can't tell you how worried I've been about Lieutenant La Forge," Sonya admitted.
Beverly and Tasha exchanged a knowing glance.
"And everybody on the away team," Sonya added quickly.
"Well don't tell me that," Tasha teased. "Tell Geordi when he gets back."
While Sonya worked on the final preparations on the Calypso, Beverly offered to inform Keiko that the rescue had been approved.
Tasha had to pick up Data from his counselling session with Deanna so she would let her know the update.
When she reached Deanna's door, Tasha was still feeling the high from Beverly's relaxant.
A moment after she arrived, the door slid open, and Deanna invited her inside.
"Come on in and take a seat," Deanna suggested.
Tasha stepped over to the sofa, she turned Data's head on the table so that he was at an angle where he could see both of them.
Tasha sat down and relaxed back into Deanna's sofa, happy to melt into the comforting cushions.
"How did the simulation turn out?" he asked cautiously.
From his vantage point, Data could see that she appeared sleepy. He was concerned that she may have lost consciousness again and was recovering from that.
"Great," she said in a hazy voice.
With considerable effort, she sat up and took hold of Data's head.
She set in her lap and leaned back against the sofa again.
"Just great, baby," she said as she began to lazily stroke his hair.
Data looked perplexed.
Deanna bit back a grin.
"I take it that the Dylamadon Beverly gave you feels good, huh?" Deanna asked as she watched them.
Tasha grinned.
Deanna could see the concern reflected in Data's face at her comment.
For some time, he had shared that a significant portion of his neural net was occupied with thoughts about Tasha's lack of concern for her own personal safety. Tasha was a risk-taker. It was a natural part of her personality.
And this rescue mission was another reminder of that tension.
"So, was the simulation a success?" Deanna pressed.
Tasha gave her a thumbs up.
Deanna was relieved. There was still considerable risk, but they were one step closer to rescue now that the simulation had been effective, and the mission was a go.
With a successful test run accomplished, now they could only hope that the rescue would be as well.
"You should get some rest, and when you return, we will have much to discuss," Deanna said brightly.
Tasha had been resting her head on the back of Deanna's sofa.
She pulled it up and looked back at the Counsellor.
"What?" Tasha asked.
She may have been higher than Pteltoid bird in a low-gravity atmosphere, but Tasha could sense there was something behind Deanna's remark.
"I believe Counsellor Troi is referring to her suggestion that we attend several joint counselling sessions," Data explained.
"Now really isn't the best time, but when you get back, I think it would be healthy for both of you if we had a series of sessions together," Deanna clarified.
"There is much I wish to discuss," Data added.
"Oh? What do you wanna talk about, baby?" Tasha questioned as she continued to stroke his hair.
"We should be leaving, Tasha," Data advised. "I do not believe your current condition is an appropriate state in which to discuss our relationship."
Tasha chuckled.
"You require rest," Data pleaded.
Tasha groaned.
"You know what I hate most about this? I might die tomorrow, and I can't even enjoy a glass of the good stuff tonight," Tasha sighed. "No whisky. Bev's orders."
It was clear this had touched a nerve in Data.
Even in her current state, Tasha was keen enough to recognise it too without seeing his reaction.
"I'm going to be fine," Tasha assured him.
If Data still had the torso and limb components of his construction, he would have physically escorted Tasha back to her quarters and would ensure she stayed put.
"I am sorry, Counsellor," Data apologised.
Deanna shrugged.
"I don't have any more appointments today," Deanna replied. "You are more than welcome to stay."
In part, Deanna was a little nervous about releasing Data into Tasha's custody like this on their own.
"I made a promise when you first went missing," Tasha confessed. "That if you came back, I'd go to that stupid reunion with you."
Data's eyes lit up.
He had tried for weeks to convince her to attend the upcoming Starfleet Academy Reunion with him.
Reunions were annual affairs and given the size and scope of Starfleet as a whole, it was impossible for all graduates to attend. It just wasn't practical for all the personnel stationed on various ships and starbases to return.
Most Starfleet Academy alumni were lucky to attend two or three reunions in their lifetime.
As the Federation Flagship, the crew of the Enterprise were uniquely positioned to attend this year's reunion as their presence had been requested by Senior Fleet Admiral Rainer.
"We make it back tomorrow, I'll give you anything you want, Data," Tasha promised.
Data did not attempt to hide his entertainment at the notion.
He knew that the concept of bargaining was a common human trait when faced with fear or unpleasant circumstances.
"Anything, Data. Even that baby you want," Tasha pledged.
That struck a nerve. Deanna mused.
She could sense that Data's amusement was quickly dissipating.
"You don't have to respond," Tasha assured him.
She sat up and leaned down next to his ear.
"I know it's all you think about," she whispered.
It wasn't exactly a secret – at least not to Deanna.
In fact, Data had shared during his sessions that he felt increasingly concerned that Tasha's unwillingness to take her own safety seriously was in conflict with his desire to start a family with her.
Someday.
They both had careers that were important to them.
Tasha wasn't ready to press pause on her martial arts training.
And Data did not feel he was ready yet for that stage of his life.
There were many things he wished to experience before committing to the full time care of another being. Besides that, there was still a lot to decide regarding the matter – would they construct an inorganic life form like Data? Would they raise a human child with the assistance of a donor? Or adopt a child?
Tasha had often expressed concern for the numerous orphans that were out there. Hundreds of children were orphaned each year when Starfleet officers were killed in the line of duty.
Although many had family to take them in, Tasha knew that wasn't the case for everyone and her heart went out to those that didn't.
After all, both her and Data were orphans in a sense.
While that day was still a long way off, Data was concerned that this disagreement would colour any future decisions about the nature of their relationship.
Deanna had suggested that perhaps it was time to have some joint counselling sessions to work through that problem.
She knew how ready Tasha was to step into danger.
And she understood just how deeply she cared for Data.
Deanna hoped that Data would be enough to finally convince her to make some healthy changes.
Tasha suddenly stopped stroking his hair.
"That's what you want to talk about. Isn't it?" she said as she sat up straight.
"Now is not the time," Data replied.
Data closed his eyes and Deanna was certain that if he could shake his head, he would have done so then and there.
"Next time," Deanna said. "You should get some rest."
Deanna escorted Tasha to Data's quarters (at Tasha's request) and bid them goodnight.
Once Deanna was gone, Tasha set Data down on the nightstand.
Although a part of him wanted to review the projections for tomorrow's rescue mission, Data felt it would be best to remain with Tasha.
Data grimaced as he watched her stumble and fall into the wall while attempting to free her foot from her jumpsuit. She grunted as she impacted the wall.
"I'm OK!" she called out.
It took her a moment to find her balance. Leaning heavily against the wall she was able to get back up to her feet.
Data felt terrible that he could not assist her. After all, it wasn't her fault that she was in this state. It was necessary given the amount of stimulant Beverly had injected into her system. They had been forced to up the dosage to a dangerous level in order to achieve the results needed.
Tasha slipped into a casual tee and pair of sleep shorts and then unceremoniously flopped down on Data's bed.
She was on her back, staring at the ceiling.
"Data, I have to tell you that I slept in here while you were gone," Tasha said.
"That is quite alright," Data assured her.
In fact, he found the thought rather endearing.
"I wanted to feel closer to you," Tasha told him.
She took hold of his pillow and pulled it close.
"I miss the way you smell," Tasha confessed.
"Tasha, I do not-" Data began to say.
"I know, I know. But after you paint you smell like acrylic paint and that remover you use to clean your brushes," Tasha explained. "And when you come back from the Arboretum you smell like dirt."
Data's face contorted.
He was not aware that his bioplast was capable of absorbing such scents.
"Hell, I even miss the horrible smell of that pipe," Tasha laughed as she recalled how much she despised the calabash pipe he had destroyed following the Antican and Selay delegation mission.
Data's bioplast contained a substance that killed the bacteria found on human skin that caused body odour. He did not perspire, nor did he wear any cologne or scented products.
Although he was capable of – and did indulge in bathing – it was only done to remove organic compounds (like dirt from the Arboretum) or to spend time with Tasha. When he did so, he used a completely unscented soap that contained no lasting smell.
Suddenly, he understood. She had slept in his bed during his absence in hopes of experiencing that sense.
"Scent has a stronger link to memory than any other sense," Data said.
In fact, during her own absence under the Cardassian occupation of Starbase 118, Data had slept in her quarters as he found the familiar smells of her quarters a comfort. The lavender of her soap, the woody scent of the candles she kept, the soft honeysuckle and vanilla moisturiser – it had provided him needed reassurance during a time of great stress.
Data's metaphorical heart sank. He had never considered that he could not offer her the same experience. He made a mental note that should the mission be a success, he would request Geordi's assistance in the matter.
"I should really take a bath," Tasha said without warning.
Data's breath hitched.
"Tasha, currently I do not believe that would be wise," Data cautioned.
Tasha groaned.
"You're probably right," she said with a disappointed sigh. "This is the worst 'last night before a risky mission' ever. No whisky. No bath. No-"
She suddenly got quiet.
"You were about to say-" Data began.
Tasha rolled to her side and put a finger to his lips to stop him.
"Shhh," she said as she shook her head.
Tasha opened her eyes and smiled.
She felt terrible for bringing it up. She hadn't meant to remind him that they couldn't hold one another in the way they wanted to.
More than that, they both understood it could be left unsaid.
"Tasha, more than anything I wish I could hold you right now," Data said with a hint of sorrow.
"Me too," she replied.
There was a pang of guilt in Tasha for confessing this. She wanted to be supportive, to remind him that no matter what happened in the days, weeks, or months to come that they would continue to be together.
"But I'm so happy you're here," she said.
She leaned forward and kissed his forehead.
Data could see she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.
"Will you tell me a story?" she requested.
Data agreed and Tasha snuggled in under the covers.
"Seeing as you will be going down the metaphorical rabbit hole tomorrow, I believe this selection will be appropriate," Data said.
Tasha closed her eyes and let the sound of his voice wash over her.
"Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do," Data began.
Data could recognise the change in Tasha's breathing.
She was technically awake but trying desperately to cling to sleep.
It was shortly before 05:00 hours.
For the last twenty minutes, Data had watched patiently and quietly in an effort to help her fall back asleep. She would need the rest and the longer she stayed asleep, the less time she had to fret about the mission.
After careful deliberation, Data decided to try and attempt a tactic he had employed when she had awoken from nightmares in the past. He would have to modify it given his current situation, but he was hopeful that it would prove useful in lulling her back to sleep.
"Go to sleep, Tasha," Data said softly.
She responded with a lazy affirmative, unwilling to move or open her eyes.
Tasha kicked off the blanket, feeling uncomfortably warm, and growled at her inability to get comfortable.
"I am here," Data assured her. "And you are safe."
He ordered the computer to lower the ambient temperature a few degrees and then began to describe the minutiae of the bed in an effort to send her mind back into a state of sleep.
"The pillow is cool to the touch as the temperature of the room drops," Data said while maintaining a low, steady voice. "The mattress is comfortable as you feel yourself sink into it."
Tasha's breathing began to slow.
"I am holding you," Data went on. "You are enveloped in comfort."
To Data's dismay, Tasha reached back for him only to find that he was not there.
When her hand felt emptiness, she rolled onto her back and growled.
"Ugh, I'm dreaming again," she sighed in frustration.
"Lay back and relax," Data whispered. "And allow yourself to drift off-"
Tasha froze.
"Or I've finally cracked," she said with a hint of concern.
She sat up and squinted against the darkness, feeling both sides of the bed.
Tasha ran her hand through her hair and exhaled audibly.
"Please lie back down," Data encouraged.
Tasha fell back against her pillow. She brought one hand up to cover her eyes as she shook her head.
It's official. I have definitely lost it. She thought.
"I am on the nightstand," Data said, realising that she was beginning to panic.
Tasha rolled to her side. She opened her eyes and allowed them to adjust to the darkness.
"Good morning," Data said.
Tasha startled.
She clenched her hands and then released them.
"I'm sorry, honey," she apologised as it came back to her.
"I am not offended," Data replied. "A disembodied head is no doubt an alarming prospect in the dark."
"I suppose you could say I was momentarily scared out of my mind," Tasha teased.
"That was a joke," Data said brightly.
At this point, he knew that she was wide awake and there would be no hope of getting her back to sleep.
"It did not go over my head," Data added.
Tasha laughed in response.
"Gods you're corny," Tasha said scooted over next to him.
She looked to him for permission to pick him up and Data agreed.
"But I love you in spite of it," Tasha smiled as she pulled him close.
"Pay it no mind," Data teased.
"Don't push it," Tasha replied as she rested her forehead against his own.
"Ensign Gomez mentioned there was a 1.8 percent variance in the shield fluctuation at maximum Warp," Data advised.
He was on the surface of his workstation reviewing the final pre-flight checklist that Sonya had sent over.
"Yeah, she mentioned that," Tasha replied.
Tasha was across the room near his table. She clipped her tricorder in place. Once she ensured her phaser was properly attuned, she holstered it and smoothed out her uniform.
"It is imperative that you ensure the cargo bay atmospheric controls are initialised before engaging at Warp," Data instructed.
"Yeah," Tasha said as she closed the lid on the container Beverly had given her for the stimulant hypospray.
It was a unique concoction. Through trial and error, they had finally nailed down the appropriate combination and quantity necessary to ensure Tasha could remain conscious.
Due to the elevated level of stimulant included, Tasha would need to wait until she was nearly to the shuttle before injecting it. It would not last long, and it was dangerous to keep her circulatory system in that kind of state for too long.
"Tasha, are you listening?" Data inquired.
"Hmmm?" she replied absentmindedly.
She pulled on her standard issue boots.
Data knew she was nervous and attempting to hide it.
This kind of rescue had never been attempted. The success of the mission depended on a lot of factors falling into place.
There was no room for error and the chance of failure was greater than the likelihood of survival.
But it was their only shot.
"We should head to the Calypso to prepare for embarkation," Data said.
Tasha crouched down next to his workstation, so they were eye-level with one another.
She smiled as she ran her thumb across his cheek.
"You know how much I love you," Tasha said tentatively. "Even if I'm not always the best at saying it."
"I do not require verbal affirmation to understand the depth of your feelings," Data replied with a smile.
Data watched curiously as the look on her face dropped a little.
"And I'm sorry. I know that I don't listen when you tell me to be careful," Tasha confessed. "And you're right. I know you only say it because you care."
She leaned forward and kissed him slowly.
When they broke apart, she pulled back and bit her lip.
"We will be late," Data reminded her.
Gripping the back of his head, she kissed him again.
"I love you," she repeated.
Tasha rose to her feet and took a step back. Data was immediately gripped by panic.
"This was not our agreement," Data said, alarmed as she backed away.
"I'm sorry. It has to be this way," she said as she shook her head.
They had agreed that Data would accompany her on the rescue mission and had received permission from Captain Picard to do so.
Data felt horribly betrayed.
"Tasha, please. You cannot do this," Data argued.
"You said it yourself, the chance of success is slim," Tasha said, trying her best not to lose her composure. "If this mission fails, at least you will be safe."
Tasha's gut didn't feel right about doing this. But she knew it was the only way to protect him.
"You are attempting to keep me safe," Data said. "But if the mission fails, I do not want to be safe. It would be my desire to be with you."
Tasha shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Data," Tasha said as she stepped back. "I love you. And I hope to see you in a few hours."
"Do not leave. Tasha, please," Data insisted. "You cannot walk away from me!"
"Actually, yes. I can," Tasha replied sadly. "And I have to."
She took a shaky breath and disappeared around the corner.
"Tasha! Tasha wait!" Data shouted.
He heard the door to his quarters close.
I cannot permit this to happen. Data thought.
He felt trapped as he sat on the surface of his workstation, unable to prevent this, unable to follow after her.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he attempted to prioritise his functioning and formulate a plan.
It would take Tasha eighteen minutes to reach the Calypso from his quarters and forty-six seconds had already passed.
He needed time.
"Computer, page Doctor Crusher," Data ordered.
"Crusher here," her voice replied.
"Doctor, this is Data. I believe Lieutenant Yar is suffering from side effects of the relaxant that you administered yesterday," Data said.
Data needed to get on that ship. He knew that shy of the Captain, Beverly was the only one that would be capable of delaying her.
"She was reluctant to voice such a concern, but her sleep was disturbed last night, and she appeared what you would call peaky this morning," Data advised. "I believe she is suffering from withdrawals including nausea and an elevated body temperature."
Data couldn't see it, but down in Sickbay Beverly sighed.
Withdrawal was common given the amount of stimulants and relaxants that had been pumped through her bloodstream the last ten days.
Data prided himself on his idea – it played right into Beverly's experience with Tasha avoiding medical care and downplaying her own health.
"Thank you, Data. I'll see to it," Beverly replied. "Crusher out."
As soon as the channel closed, Data breathed a sigh of relief.
Stage one of his plan was in action.
"Computer, page Lieutenant Reginald Barclay and Ensign Sonya Gomez," Data commanded.
Tasha stepped off the turbolift and found herself face-to-face with an irritated Beverly Crusher.
"Feeling alright?" Beverly asked.
She did not wait for a response.
"Whoa, Doc. I'm fine," Tasha insisted as Beverly scanned her vitals.
"Elevated body temperature," Beverly said as she ran her tricorder over the Security Chief.
Tasha gave her an annoyed look.
"Don't deny it, I can see you're flushed," Beverly responded.
"I'm going to be late," Tasha said as she tried to push past the Doctor.
"Hold it right there," Beverly said as she stuck out her hand to stop Tasha.
Tasha paused.
She looked at Beverly pleadingly.
"Every minute we wait they grow closer and closer to-" Tasha started.
"Ah, ah, ah! It will only take ten minutes to run a scan and ensure you're alright," Beverly said. "Twenty minutes. Half an hour tops and you'll be on your way."
Tasha grumbled in protest.
"Withdrawals are to be expected and it doesn't serve any of us if you collapse before you reach them," Beverly argued.
Reluctantly, Tasha followed Beverly to Sickbay.
"Are you sure this is alright, sir?" Barclay asked as he tentatively set Data's head down next to the console behind the Command Chair.
From the angle of entrance to the Bridge of the Calypso, this would keep him concealed from Tasha's view.
"It is an order, Lieutenant Barclay," Data said.
Barclay nodded.
"And one that comes with my deepest gratitude," Data added.
Out in the corridor that led to the Captain's Yacht, Tasha emerged from the lift.
Aside from her elevated temperature and general withdrawal symptoms, there was nothing seriously medically wrong with Tasha.
After concluding her scans, Beverly had cleared Tasha for duty.
Now thoroughly annoyed, Tasha was more than eager to depart.
Just as she was about to step aboard, Ensign Gomez popped out from around the corner and stopped her.
"Good morning, Lieutenant Yar," she said brightly.
"Good morning, Ensign," Tasha replied as she eyed her sceptically. "Is there a problem with the pre-flight checklist?"
Sonya did her best to look innocent.
"Oh, no. No. No problems," Sonya said as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.
Silence fell on the pair as Tasha awaited an explanation.
"Then what's going on?" Tasha asked.
Sonya's eyes went wide.
"There's nothing going on, sir," Sonya answered as she shook her head.
Tasha did her best to remain unphased.
She looked over Sonya's shoulder to see if there was a team in the Calypso working on anything last-minute.
Tasha knew it had been a tight schedule to get her ready in time for launch.
"Sonya, what are you doing here?" Tasha inquired.
She held out her hands in expectation of an answer.
"Sir?" Sonya asked to clarify.
It was an attempt to buy time.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Tasha asked.
Her tone was not one of anger – but the exasperation was clear.
"Here?" Sonya squeaked.
Fortunately, Tasha interpreted her panicked reaction as a response to a senior officer expressing anger rather than concern that their plan would be foiled.
"I'm sorry, Sonya," Tasha apologised. "I'm a little on edge about the mission. I shouldn't have snapped."
"Oh," Sonya acknowledged. "Um, it's quite alright."
Tasha nodded.
When Sonya did not move, Tasha took a step to try and squeeze past her onto the Calypso.
"Uh, you, erm, can't go on there yet," Sonya said quickly.
"Why not?" Tasha asked.
Something was wrong.
Her gut was screaming this was a red flag.
"Lieutenant!" Reg Barclay said as he emerged around the corner from the Bridge. "Y-y-you're here."
"Yes," Tasha said, irritated.
There was no logical reason that these two engineers should be on the ship looking this nervous unless there was a problem.
"What are you two not telling me?" Tasha demanded.
Reg blanched.
Data had warned both Ensign Gomez and Lieutenant Barclay that Tasha would demand to know what was going on. He cautioned them that she would be sceptical and shrewd in her questioning.
However, one advantage Data had in his pocket was his choice in co-conspirators. He had intentionally chosen both Gomez and Barclay as their natural anxious tendencies played into excusing their fear of being caught – provided they could make it off the ship without confessing.
"We are not telling you goodbye," Sonya said awkwardly as she looked at Reg.
Wide-eyed the two nodded to one another.
"Y-yes," Reg said, backing up her claim. "We came to see you off."
"And wish you luck," Sonya added.
Sonya pulled her into a tight hug and Reg flashed a shaky thumbs up.
It was a weak excuse.
To their relief, it worked.
Tasha wasn't oblivious to the fact that the pair had spent considerable time preparing the ship.
She was also familiar with their socially awkward personalities and recognised they tended to get anxious when working with senior officers.
"Thank you," she said warmly. "You two did splendid work."
"Yay!" Sonya said as she clapped her hands together and stepped off the ship and onto the dock.
Barclay smiled.
"Reg?" Tasha asked.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" he replied.
"Get off the ship, Reg," Tasha ordered as she pointed behind her.
Tasha stepped to the side. With a small nod, Reg cleared his throat and slipped past her.
Taking her seat at the Operations console, Tasha activated the shields and powered on the Calypso's main computer system.
Once controls were fully online, she moved to the Helm and keyed in her first course heading to get her away from the Enterprise.
"Yar to Enterprise, Calypso is online and ready to embark," Tasha informed them.
"Lieutenant Hawk, detach the docking clamps and release the Dart," Picard ordered.
Tasha listened as she heard the tell-tale sound of the docking clamps being released to detach the Captain's Yacht from the hull of the ship.
She double-checked the sensor readings to ensure the bulkhead was sealed.
"Picard to Calypso," the Captain's voice chimed over the comm system. "You are clear for launch. And good luck."
"Here," Commander Riker said as he pushed a cuppa coffee into Geordi's hands.
Geordi was sitting in the corner of the back of the front section of the shuttle in the seat near Data's body.
He'd been sitting alone for the last hour and had not spoken a word to anyone.
Riker slipped into the seat next to him and took a sip of his own mug of coffee. It was cold, but the hot coffee felt good against his hands.
For the last hour, the temperature aboard the ship had been dropping. The shuttle energy reserves were getting low. Riker had made everyone a hot cuppa before terminating the replicator power in order to preserve it for shields.
The ship lurched and creaked under the stress of the gravitational pressure.
"He was afraid," Geordi commented.
"He was brave," Riker corrected, trying to instil confidence.
A pained look fell on Geordi's face.
"You don't understand, sir," Geordi explained. "I've never seen Data look like that. When I closed that probe, he was terrified."
Riker could see this was bothering Geordi and now he felt that understood the change in the usually cheery engineer's attitude. Geordi was sulking.
"I feel guilty," Geordi confessed. "What if something happens to him? And I'm the one that put him there."
Commander Riker put his hand on Geordi's shoulder.
"Data knew the risk," Riker reminded him. "And it was one he chose willingly because he's a good friend. To all of us."
Geordi glanced over at Data's body and sighed.
"If you don't get out of this funk, I'm going to change the topic to Sonya Gomez," Riker teased in hopes of making Geordi laugh.
Geordi turned back to Riker and looked down at the floor.
"I really wish things could be different," Geordi said with a bitter laugh. "She's brilliant."
Ensign Gomez hadn't been aboard the ship long – but she had made a big impression in engineering and an even bigger one on Geordi.
He always looked forward to their shifts with one another. In a way, she reminded Geordi of a younger version of himself. Sonya worked hard, too hard in some ways, and Geordi had tried to casually guide her to find a work/life balance.
He knew just how difficult it could be as a young Ensign on a big assignment like the Enterprise. During Sonya's first week on board, Geordi had taken her to Ten Forward and introduced her to many of the crew from Engineering and some of the other senior officers.
When she relaxed a little, Sonya could really hold her own in conversation.
"Geordi, if there's anything we've taken away from the last few missions it's that life is too short to hesitate or dance around regulations," Riker warned.
Geordi let his thoughts wander for a moment as he considered Will Riker's advice.
They had faced the Q, the Cardassians, and the Romulans.
Now they were inching ever closer to a black hole.
Every day aboard the Enterprise came with risk.
Sonya was an adult. She certainly had no problem voicing her opinions.
If she wasn't interested in anything more, Geordi had no doubt that they could continue working together without any disruption or awkwardness.
You've got to make a promise to yourself. The Chief had told him.
Miles was right – a person had to make a promise to remind themselves to get out there, to not be afraid of trying something new, to not allow the grip of fear to stop him from living.
"Geordi?" Riker prompted.
"I'm going to do it," Geordi said in a faraway voice.
Riker looked at Geordi in confusion.
"I'm going to do it," Geordi said again slowly.
Geordi sat back against the seat and smiled.
"I'm going to do it!" he repeated loudly with a broad grin.
Geordi clapped his hands together and rubbed them triumphantly.
He sat up straight and gripped Commander Riker by the shoulders.
"I've found my promise," Geordi informed him.
Riker looked at him sceptically.
Had Geordi cracked under pressure?
Riker watched as Geordi jumped out of his seat and headed for the back of the shuttle where the other members of the away team were huddled under thermal blankets.
"Chief! If we make it out of here alive, I'm going to ask Sonya on that date," Geordi shouted. "Whooo eee!"
The shuttle lurched with a sickening creak.
"If we make it back," Geordi added suddenly, hoping he hadn't just jinxed their luck.
Everyone fell silent as they listened to the hull of the shuttle groan in the cold of space.
All of a sudden, the communication array pinged.
"Yar to away team, do you copy?" Tasha's voice rang out through the system.
It was a little slow, but not unreasonably so like the messages from the Enterprise had been.
"If you can hear this, buckle in. This is going to be bumpy," Tasha advised.
The Calypso was closing in on the shuttle fast.
Travelling at maximum impulse, Tasha knew the shuttle was going to collide with the back of the cargo bay upon pickup.
Essentially, the Calypso was going to 'scoop up' or 'swallow' the shuttle into its cargo bay not unlike a filter-feeder animal swimming in the ocean.
"Tasha?" Riker asked as he tapped the communications system to respond.
On the Bridge of the Calypso, Tasha was watching the proximity indicators as she closed in on their location. She was less than five kilometres out.
Tasha double-checked the position to ensure that the ship was properly aligned. It would be a tight sweep with little room for error. The shuttle itself was just over four metres wide. The cargo bay was only about ten metres wide.
Piloting something the size of the Calypso in comparison to the shuttle meant that even a small deviation could result in the shuttle hitting the edge. Such an impact would destroy the shuttle and catastrophically damage the Calypso.
"Brace for impact," Tasha warned as she opened the cargo bay of the Calypso.
The third message was much faster – nearly normal pace- and Riker knew he had to trust her.
Riker turned back to the crew to order them into the protection of the seats only to find that the rest of the team was already scrambling for safety.
They had discarded their blankets and were rushing to get off the ground.
Geordi sat down next to Data's body. Worf threw Wes into a chair and gripped a safety hold on the ceiling.
Before he could sit down, Commander Riker was thrown forward as the shuttle impacted the back of the cargo bay. He landed face-first on the floor between the seats.
Miles was tossed into the rear door and impacted the hull with a yelp of pain.
"Sorry about that," Tasha's voice said. "I know that was a rough landing."
Up on the Bridge, Tasha got up from the Helm and stepped over to the Operations console. She closed the cargo bay door and punched in the appropriate command to repressurise the cargo bay.
It took fifteen seconds for the area to repressurise.
Next, she keyed in the atmospheric and environmental controls to floor the area with breathable air and heat.
She watched the sensors as she read the oxygen levels and temperature rise.
Step one complete.
Tasha resumed her position at the helm and glanced out the viewscreen.
At this distance, the event horizon of the black hole was visible.
It was simultaneously an awe-inspiring and unsettling sight.
But there was no time to stop and admire this once in a lifetime view.
"Guys, you're going to black out down there," Tasha notified the team down in the shuttle. "By the time you wake up we should be halfway home."
Tasha reached for the medical case that housed the hypospray Beverly had provided. She administered it to herself and then set it down on the ground next to her.
She looked down at the console and took a deep breath.
"You are doing well," Data's voice advised from behind her. "I have complete faith in your ability to get us out of here."
Tasha closed her eyes.
"Well, that certainly explains Barclay and Gomez," Tasha commented as she adjusted their course heading to slingshot the singularity.
"I am sorry," Data replied. "But I could not permit you to do this alone."
The event horizon was growing closer on the viewscreen – a majestic cosmic swirl of light as the singularity consumed all matter in the area.
As they drew closer, Tasha looked behind her.
She knew it would do no good to get angry. It was over and done with at this point. It wasn't like she could send him home.
And, in truth, it was reassuring to know she wasn't alone. Tasha spotted him on the floor near the Command Chair and smiled.
Tasha got up from the Helm, picked him up, and carried him back to the helm.
"I'm glad you're here with me," Tasha admitted.
Together they watched as the Calypso raced toward the black hole.
As the ship closed in, both of them turned their attention to the Helm controls.
They were less than a thousand metres away from their target.
"Don't," Tasha ordered. "I've got this."
She knew Data was trying to help, but she also understood this was a rare opportunity for him.
"Just enjoy the moment. For both of us," Tasha encouraged.
Data turned his attention away from the sensor readings and back to the viewscreen.
It truly was a magnificent view.
Data recorded to memory the experience – one that he knew would prove valuable to Starfleet research and something that he would treasure for the remainder of his existence.
It was an experience that was gone too soon.
He knew that somewhere aboard the Enterprise, this experience was likely hours or days.
However, for Data and Tasha it was merely seconds.
In the blink of an eye, Tasha tapped the controls and engaged the engines at maximum Warp.
The Warp bubble formed, and they achieved escape velocity.
As soon as they were safely at Warp 9.6, Tasha set the autopilot.
"Should take about an hour and this course will take us back to the Enterprise," Tasha said.
"You mean this course will take us home," Data replied.
She brushed the top of Data's head with a kiss as they were carried away back into the vast expanse of space.