Author's Note: Alright, we're back in the Starfleet swing of things.
This chapter is going to lay the groundwork for an upcoming story arc that we'll see play out in the later part of The Complication.
Unlike the original series, I wanted this arc to be more than just an episodic one off.
Thank you for your continued patience and support with this story!
Second Officer's Personal Log. Stardate 41711.3. After five days of personal leave, the senior officers of the Enterprise, myself included, are preparing to beam down to Starfleet Headquarters for the annual Command Conference. This will be the fourteenth time attending such a conference, but my first as Second Officer of the Flagship.
While I am looking forward to gaining new insight on the Cardassian Border War and Starfleet's diplomatic efforts, Lieutenant Yar has expressed dismay that the Romulan situation appears to be a topic that has been 'glossed over.'
I find that I am in agreement.
With our recent Romulan encounters, I am left wondering why Starfleet would neglect to include such a growing threat among its conference agenda. Without further information, I am left to merely speculate as to the reasons behind such a decision.
Commander Riker tugged at the collar on his dress uniform.
"That is Admiral Grey," Data said out of the corner of his mouth as a tall woman walked past them.
She had an entourage of staff scurrying after her.
"And Captain Varley of the Yamato," Data advised.
Data, Tasha, Commander Riker, and Captain Picard were standing along the wall just inside the Command headquarters. For the last ten minutes, they'd been watching various officers walk through the lobby on their way to the start of the conference.
Data had memorised the entire expected attendance list and was pointing out various officers of note as they walked by.
All in all, it was making Captain Picard nervous.
He had no appetite for such functions and viewed them as a waste of time.
While the information was essential and he supported the exchange of ideas, it seemed with each passing year these conferences grew more into glorified schmooze-fests rather than a necessary information exchange.
In Jean-Luc's opinion, they had drifted so far from the original purpose of such gatherings – a shift that was highlighted by the fact most officers were looking forward to the reception rather than the meeting.
A small chime indicated that the conference would call to order in a few minutes.
Reluctantly, the four officers made their way into a large, round assembly and took their seats. Each ship had assigned a table with seats for the Captain, First Officer, Second Officer, and Tactical Chief.
At the front of the room was a long, curved table where the senior-most members of Starfleet Command were seated. In the middle, was a raised platform and podium for senior Fleet Admiral – also known as the Commander in Chief.
Starfleet's current Commander in Chief was Fleet Admiral Tahiil Ibrahim. Admiral Ibrahim had a strong reputation for his even keeled nature and apt negotiator. The Admiral's diplomatic efforts to make peace with the Talarians had led to the current truce between both powers.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tasha spied Captain Rixx a few tables away. They briefly made eye contact before turning back to face forward.
Fleet Admiral Ibrahim strolled in and assumed his position at the podium, knocking a gavel a few times to get the crowd's attention before calling the meeting to order.
At the Fleet Admiral's request, he ordered that the Command Conference would officially commence after reciting the oath.
There was a scuffle of chairs as everyone stood.
"I pledge to uphold, support, and defend the United Federation of Planets against all enemies, interstellar or domestic, and that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same," the crowd recited. "I will do right to all manner of people without fear or favour, affection, or ill will. I will serve to maintain peace, explore the galaxy, advance scientific discovery, defend the Federation, and, above all, abide by the Prime Directive."
As they sat back down, Data noticed a sour look on Tasha's face.
"You are agitated," Data whispered.
"I just don't care for this kind of thing," Tasha replied in a low voice. "It's so-"
She paused as she searched for the right word.
"Militarised," she settled on.
"Hmm," Data replied as he quickly raised and lowered his eyebrows, surprised by her comment.
Starfleet was not a military organisation. But there was no denying that there were aspects to its structure that operated similarly to military organisations in other governments. Planetary defence was a critical component of their mission.
However, at heart, Starfleet existed for exploration.
While Tasha had no protests about the importance of their defensive work, she'd always been put off by the pomp and circumstance that accompanied these formal gatherings. She understood and took her duty seriously – but such public oaths of affirmation struck a nerve.
It was far too much like the brand of rabid nationalism she'd experienced from the factions on Turkana to sit comfortably with Tasha.
A strange notion considering my role is the most militarised of all. She mused to herself.
Data made a mental note to ask about it later at a more appropriate time.
Fleet Admiral Ibrahim tapped his podium and the first slides appeared on the large, overhead viewscreens.
Admiral Ibrahim began to explain an overview of their agenda.
Data was sitting at rapt attention, keen to absorb and record the entirety of the presentation. To his left, Captain Picard was resting his hands on his lap and listening politely.
Commander Riker was doing his best to keep his eyes open – stuffy rooms had a tendency to put Will Riker to sleep.
At the far end of the table on Data's right side, Tasha crossed her arms and settled back in her chair as she mentally prepared herself to spend the next few hours listening to the finer points of diplomatic procedure.
They were three hours into the conference when it was clear the room was fading fast. They'd covered the latest highlights from the progress of the Border War with the Cardassians, updates on new diplomatic overtures with the Ferengi, and an overview of the Tholian situation.
Two tables over, the Captain of the Kyushu had dozed off.
Tasha had to bite back a grin when his First Officer startled him in an attempt to subtly wake the Captain.
Data's attention was fixated on the presentation. However, his neural net allowed him to process the entire presentation while simultaneously studying the room.
In the corner, Data had spied Admiral Josiah Walsh and the other officers from the USS Shepard. It seemed, in the least, Walsh had not spotted the crew of the Enterprise.
All the better. Data thought to himself.
To everyone's dismay, the conference was running behind schedule. Commander Desio of Starfleet's R&D department had gone nearly an hour over time answering questions about new updates to Galaxy-class ships.
And while it was vital information, it meant that the lunch break had been cancelled.
Rather than breaking for an hour, lunch was going be beamed directly into the assembly hall.
There was a roar of protest from the crowd at this news.
"We will ensure that all meals provided align with your dietary specifications as outlined in your personnel files," Admiral Ibrahim's senior aide informed the group.
"So much for catching a bite at Henley's," Riker said.
He'd been looking forward to lunch at his favourite local deli all week.
Tasha used the opportunity to get out of her seat and stretch. She glanced over toward Captain Rixx and the two shared a knowing look. They'd been planning to meet in secret for lunch off the premises.
Fortunately, Admiral Ibrahim announced that they would take a fifteen-minute break to allow the officers a chance to stretch their legs and visit the facilities.
In the corridor outside of the assembly hall, Rixx and Tasha covertly found a way to mingle at a nearby drinking fountain.
Tasha was standing against the wall, facing the crowd while Rixx pretended to get a drink.
"The pub overlooking the fountain at the Maigret's," Rixx said quietly without looking up from the fountain. "An hour after the conference is adjourned."
"Understood," Tasha replied out of the corner of her mouth.
Maigret's was a local spot, popular enough to be a reputable establishment but off the beaten path of the hotspots frequented by Starfleet brass.
To the casual observer it would like nothing more than a drink between old friends.
They weren't precisely sure when it would end. And Captain Rixx would have to make an appearance at the reception following the conference lest his absence raise suspicion.
"Do not tell Picard," Rixx warned.
Tasha hesitated for a split second.
"Understood," she repeated under her breath.
She waited a few minutes by the fountain before making her own way back into the assembly hall. When she resumed her seat, she couldn't help but fixate on Rixx's request.
Tasha trusted Captain Picard.
They had served together for a long time.
But his strange behaviour following the incident along the Neutral Zone coupled with this odd request from Rixx left Tasha wondering if there had been some truth to her suspicions that Picard had been asked to kill any investigation.
Rixx was a good Captain with a solid record.
And he's spent the better part of the last decade patrolling the Neutral Zone. A voice inside Tasha reminded her.
"Something on your mind?" Captain Picard asked as he resumed his seat.
"No, sir," Tasha lied.
Sometimes it scared her with how easy it was to lie.
And a part of her felt horrible for withholding information from the Captain. But Tasha justified it to herself in two ways. Firstly, if there was some kind of Romulan conspiracy involving Starfleet Command (as she suspected) then it would do her no good to involve the Captain without further information.
Secondly, if Captain Picard had been pressured to kill any investigation, the very last thing she wanted to do was bring him further threats or trouble.
A moment later the familiar shimmering sound of materialisation filled the assembly hall as ration boxes appeared on the tables labelled for each officer.
Commander Riker glanced at the stack and distributed the boxes to the Captain and Tasha.
Data noticed there were only three boxes sent down but said nothing.
While he did not require nutritional intake in the same manner as humans, Data did have a nutrient distribution system that helped to lubricate his biofunctions. He consumed a semi-organic nutrient supplement in silicon regularly that provided for all of his nutritional needs.
However, he was capable of functioning for extended periods of time without ingesting it.
'Skipping meals' would not result in the same kind of sluggish lack of fuel that humans experienced.
But Tasha knew he could meet most of the same nutritional needs through consuming regular food. His system had a distribution method that would process and break down anything consumed into usable sustenance.
Whatever couldn't be absorbed was destroyed by his power core.
Most of all, Tasha understood that Data had gotten used to eating with other officers. Meals were such a common human way of spending time together.
The oversight was another reminder of his synthetic nature.
"I'm not hungry," Tasha said as she pushed her ration box in front of Data.
Data looked down at the box in front of him and then back to Tasha.
He frowned.
"Do not take this the wrong way," Data began. "But you are always hungry."
Tasha laughed softly.
"Truly, I'm not right now," she said. "Just sleepy."
It was the truth.
The entire business of this unknown nature with Captain Rixx had killed her appetite.
For the next several hours, the four officers from the Enterprise sat through an endless series of presentations.
After an hour discussion recapping the Federation's diplomatic plan for recruiting new allies against the Cardassians, Admiral Ibrahim moved into a topic that caught the Enterprise crew's attention – The Neutral Zone.
"For over two-hundred years we have maintained a heavy defensive presence along the Romulan Neutral Zone," Admiral Ibrahim began. "A presence that has helped us to maintain an uneasy peace with the Romulan Star Empire."
"Uneasy peace? More like 'shadow war'," Tasha grumbled under her breath.
It was said quietly enough that Data was certain he was the only one that had heard her offhand remark.
"But I am pleased to report that one of our new Federation initiatives for the upcoming year is further support for the Vulcan diplomatic effort to thaw the relationship between the Federation and the Romulan Star Empire," Ibrahim announced.
Tasha sat up straight in her chair, paying close attention to every word.
She certainly wasn't the only one taken aback by this announcement.
Admiral Ibrahim turned the podium over to the Vulcan Ambassador T'Pel to brief the assembly.
Data was surprised by this shift in policy too.
According to Ambassador T'Pel, the Romulan Star Empire was experiencing a series of events that signified it was in decline. The central Romulan authority no longer possessed the ability to exercise the broad power it once had held.
Social and political upheaval had rocked the Empire.
Vulcan reunification separatists were a growing threat. There were rumours of Reman uprisings. It seemed the slave labour caste of Romulan society had finally had enough – and they had allies among new, younger Romulans that weren't as keen to share the xenophobic and warlike values of their ancestors.
Internal conflicts among the Senate had weakened the power of the Praetor. The position of Emperor had largely become a figurehead.
It seemed there was a growing attitude of disillusionment towards the authoritarian Romulan government and the Tal Shiar's tactics.
"It is logical to conclude that now is the best possible time to advance our diplomatic overtures toward the Romulans," T'Pel explained. "They are weakened, vulnerable, and ready to negotiate."
Data cocked his head to the side, his face registering scepticism to this analysis.
By all accounts, recent activity along the Neutral Zone pointed to anything but a weakened Romulan state. There had been a marked proliferation of arms along their border, increased patrols, and numerous 'tests' into Federation territory as if trying to draw the Federation into a conflict.
"We believe that scaling down our defensive presence along the Neutral Zone is a gesture of good faith. Due to the delicate nature of our peace and our lack of formal diplomatic relations, such actions can signal our willingness to negotiate," T'Pel informed them.
The Ambassador's words echoed in Tasha's head.
Scaling down our defensive presence.
It had to be the reason Captain Rixx had requested a meeting. He would know better than anyone what was going on behind the scenes.
"Our gravitic sensor nets are capable of detecting any border crossing. In combination with a small defensive presence, such technology is sufficient for maintaining the peace," T'Pel continued. "Furthermore, reallocating Starfleet resources to our other conflicts and exploration efforts is in the best interest of all Federation members."
T'Pel tapped the podium and the viewscreen displayed a list of the upcoming changes.
There was to be an immediate reduction in the number of manned outposts and ships along the border. T'Pel informed the assembly that some of these changes had already begun to take place. A number of ships had been redirected toward the Cardassian Border and personnel were being reassigned to other starbases.
Starbase Yorktown would remain fully operational and staffed – much to the relief of many officers who called Starbase home or had their families stationed there.
But it was a small comfort.
Though it had been over two hundred years since the Romulans had used primitive atomic weapons to kill nearly a million Federation citizens without ever being seen, the stories of such devastation had not been forgotten.
"These changes are a necessary step toward thawing the long, fraught relationship between our peoples," T'Pel advised. "Change will not come overnight. But I believe that with our continued, patient efforts the long arc of history will bend toward peace."
T'Pel concluded her presentation and the assembly responded with polite applause.
"Well, that was certainly unexpected," Captain Picard remarked.
"You can say that again," Data replied with an uncharacteristic sense of sarcasm.
Will Riker covered his smile with a cough.
Tasha's signature biting sarcasm seemed to rub off on Data more and more with each passing day.
"I suppose we should make a polite appearance at the reception," Captain Picard said as he motioned to the door.
When they stepped into the reception, they found Deanna, Beverly, and Worf waiting at a table in the corner.
Deanna gave them a short wave. While the rest of the officers made a beeline for the table, Data headed off in search of the bar.
Weaving his way through the crowd, Data finally located it in the far corner of the room.
He was waiting for his drinks when a familiar hand grabbed his elbow.
"How was the conference?" Geordi asked.
"Truth be told, I would prefer to hear how your day went," Data replied.
"That bad, huh?" Geordi chuckled.
Data nodded.
"Well, I can't say much for the new coolant system regulators. It's like they took the specs from the old Miranda class ships and slapped a new dispersal mechanism on them," Geordi said with a sigh.
Data was disappointed to hear this news. He'd been hoping the new coolant system regulators would enable ships like the Enterprise to maintain higher warp speeds for longer periods of time without as many cooling stops.
As the incident at Starbase 118 had shown, even the Galaxy class ships weren't invulnerable. While they could achieve higher speeds longer than previously constructed ships, the cool down rate remained a problem.
With their drinks in hand, they made their way back to the table where the conversation had quickly turned to the topic of the Romulans.
"If Ambassador T'Pel's intelligence is correct, it sounds like the Romulans are no threat to the Federation," Beverly commented after hearing the news. "If they're dealing with their own internal affairs, they can hardly be in a position to attack us."
"Unless that's what they want us to think," Tasha countered.
"In the words of Sun Tzu, If your opponent is temperamental, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant," Riker smirked from across the table.
"It's always a game of chess with the Romulans, isn't it?" Picard remarked.
"I do not believe Ambassador T'Pel understands the threat the Romulans pose," Worf grumbled.
While Worf was relieved his presence hadn't been required at the conference, he was frustrated to learn of this shift in Federation policy.
"While I find Ambassador T'Pel's presentation to be contradictory to the evidence we've witnessed along the Neutral Zone, her record indicates that she has been a trusted Vulcan diplomat for seventy-three years. Her opinions are considered expert level," Data explained.
Tasha was unusually quiet.
The whole thing just didn't sit right with her.
Data handed her a glass of amber liquid.
Tasha took a sip and made a face.
"This is synthehol," she said in disappointment as she eyed the substance.
"You have not eaten," Data reminded her.
Across the table, Captain Picard leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap as he weighed the information from the conference.
"Such a dramatic shift in policy," he pondered aloud. "With little to no warning."
"It would certainly make more sense if there had been a change in leadership," Riker replied.
And he was right.
It wasn't unheard of for policy changes to occur whenever a new person stepped into the role. But Starfleet's Command structure had been relatively stable for the last few years with few retirements or ideological shifts.
"I guess it's above our rank," Will said in a cheery tone.
He turned to Deanna.
"I've heard the buffet table includes Risian chocolate bonbons," Riker said with a wicked grin. "Would you care to join me in investigating this matter?"
He offered his arm to Deanna who readily accepted and the two left in search of the dessert.
While Miles and Geordi filled Data in on the details of the Engineering summit, Tasha sat quietly next to Worf – grateful that he was perfectly fine doing the same.
She checked the time – mindful not to do so too often – and then took another swig of her drink.
Tasha had about two more minutes before she needed to leave.
Suddenly, Worf stiffened next to her.
He glanced around the room and then back toward the middle. His breathing was laboured.
"Worf?" Tasha asked, sensing his discomfort.
"Excuse me," he said. "I must go."
He got up and made a hasty retreat for the exit that led to a service corridor.
Tasha was about to take after him when she spied a Klingon woman coming toward the table.
Not just any Klingon woman – the Klingon woman Worf kept a picture of on his desk.
K'Ehleyr. Tasha recalled.
But when K'Ehleyr spied Worf making a beeline for the exit, she stopped and shook her head.
Tasha bit her lip as she weighed her options.
She knew it wasn't her place to go poking around Worf's personal relationships.
But she couldn't help her own curiosity.
Unfortunately, she was due to leave for her meeting with Captain Rixx.
Just my luck. Tasha lamented.
"I'm meeting a friend for a drink, I'll catch up with you later," Tasha said as she slipped away from the reception.
Tasha made her way off the premises of Starfleet Headquarters, stepping out onto the streets of San Francisco and into the night.
It had been years since she'd wandered around this part of the city – and she didn't much care for the well-to-do establishments that lined the area immediately around the campus. They were full of Starfleet brass and young officer's eager to network their way to their next promotion.
She passed The Captain's Chair – one such establishment. As she passed, she glanced in the large glass window and could see it hadn't changed much in the years since her own time at the Academy.
There had been a time when Tasha had been a part of that group.
At one time, she had been a young cadet desperate to prove she was anything but a scrappy little nobody from a backwater planet.
Tasha chuckled to herself.
For a moment, she watched a table where a group of cadets were mingling with a handful of officers.
It was funny how the men that had warned her to watch out for the non-Starfleet 'riff-raff' that hung around had in fact been the very men she should have been wary of in the first place.
If I only knew then what I know now. She mused.
As she walked along toward Maigret's, Tasha briefly wondered if she would have felt the same way a year earlier. It had been a long, tumultuous path learning to be comfortable in her own skin.
And she knew she wasn't entirely there yet.
But she'd never felt the need to hide any part of herself around Data – at least not consciously.
There were still ticks she had picked up over the years that were such an entrenched part of her daily habits that Tasha knew stemmed from the fear of perception - speaking English rather than Turkanan, overworking, and joking that the snacks she hid in her uniform were simply a matter of an insatiable appetite rather than a fear of not having food.
Deep down, she suspected Data understood this – and loved her regardless.
By the time she reached the door to Maigret's, Tasha was feeling pleasantly warm. For a moment, all thoughts of Romulan conspiracy had disappeared.
From the moment she spotted Captain Rixx in the corner, any warm, fuzzy thoughts of romance were pushed aside as it all came back to the forefront of her mind.
"Sorry to pull you away from the reception," Rixx said as she slipped into the seat across from him.
"Are you kidding? I couldn't get away from it fast enough," Tasha quipped in response as she tapped the menu at the end of the table to place her order.
While the circumstances of their meeting weren't exactly exciting, at the very least, there was good company and real whisky.
Back at the reception, Miles and Geordi were engaged in a heated debated about the merits of a third nacelle.
"An inboard nacelle would be completely pointless on a Galaxy class ship," Geordi argued. "The amount of energy we'd need to expend to justify it is more than the dilithium crystal chamber could handle!"
"Obviously, we'd need an expanded warp core and crystal chamber," Miles countered. "But if we had that power with a proper cooling system, I'd bet we could push Warp 9 for twenty hours uninterrupted."
Data watched intently as they went back and forth. Deanna and Commander Riker had returned from the dessert table and were happily occupied with a variety of chocolate options designed to appease even the most finicky of chocolate consumers.
Doctor Crusher and Captain Picard had wandered off to catch up with an old friend from their Academy days.
"I'm not saying we can do it right now," Miles continued. "Just consider the possibility."
"I have," Geordi responded. "And I'm telling you it's not good! There's a reason they don't make those Federation class dreadnaughts anymore."
Miles shook his head and turned to Data.
"What do you think?" Miles inquired.
"Yeah, Data. What do you think?" Geordi pressed.
Both men were staring at him, eagerly awaiting his input on the situation, and hoping it would confirm their own conclusion.
Data disliked being put on the spot like this. He was hesitant to take a side.
Instead of weighing in on the debate, Data decided to employ a tactic that he'd seen Commander Riker use on several similar occasions.
"Before we delve any further into that topic, may I inquire how your leave went?" Data asked.
"Tarod IX, Qualor II, Starbase 39," Rixx listed off. "They've all been put on half-staff. Starfleet's been shipping personnel out of Deep Space 7 for weeks."
Tasha listened intently as Rixx shared the latest from the Neutral Zone.
"I'm sure that didn't sit well with Captain Montague," Tasha remarked.
Mary Montague had a reputation for her staunch defence of the importance of Deep Space 7. As it's commanding officer, she'd spent nearly fifteen years along the Neutral Zone.
"Captain Montague was transferred to Hamburg and is currently en route to Barzan to conduct a study on an allegedly stable wormhole," Rixx informed her.
Tasha's brow furrowed. She may not have Data's background in wormhole physics, but she knew the idea of a stable wormhole was widely accepted as fictional.
"My First Officer's been reassigned to a desk job," Rixx continued. "And I've been given a mission schedule full of resupply trips and diplomatic follow-ups that really don't align with the purpose of having a ship like the Thomas Paine on the border."
"And you don't know why?" Tasha asked.
Rixx shook his head.
"I certainly have my theories but it's all just speculation," he explained.
He sighed and looked out at the fountain in the courtyard below.
"You're probably wondering why I reached out to you," Rixx said.
"The question's been dancing around in my head," Tasha replied.
Rixx waited until a server had passed their table before answering. He didn't want their conversation to be overheard by anyone.
"One, I wanted to know if you had any information given the Enterprise's recent encounter with the Romulans," Rixx confessed. "I suspect there's more to that story than the record would imply."
Tasha's throat went dry.
"For a while, I've suspected that we have a Romulan spy or spies aboard the Enterprise," she shared.
She paused for a moment as she wrestled internally with how much information to share.
Tasha had conducted three separate covert missions with Rixx. And his motivation for meeting seemed to be genuine concern.
Deciding to trust her gut, Tasha opened up.
"Captain, I think that what I'm about to tell you needs to stay outside of the chain of command," Tasha prefaced.
"Lieutenant, this conversation never happened," Rixx assured her.
"I have reason to believe the chain of command has been compromised," Tasha said.
She shared with Captain Rixx her suspicions about the Enterprise's orders to the Neutral Zone and the fact that information was transferred to the Romulan ship during that time.
"Someone at command had to know to coordinate that," Tasha surmised. "And to use the contagion as a cover. That would have taken weeks of planning. Maybe years."
Tasha looked down at her drink, swirling the ice chips as her thoughts drifted to a dark place.
"This wasn't a crime of opportunity," Tasha concluded.
"Something is going on, Tasha," Rixx said. "Unusual orders. Strange mission schedules. Reassignments. Accidents. It's like someone is doing their best to keep anyone from putting it all together."
"What do you mean by accidents?" Tasha questioned as she eyed Rixx carefully.
"Just what it sounds like," he responded with a knowing look.
They both had enough experience in covert operations to know precisely what Rixx meant.
According to Captain Rixx, a number of prominent officers involved in key positions had mysteriously died in a series of accidents in the last few weeks. One the Departmental sub-commanders for Romulan policymaking had been killed while on leave with his family in a freak shuttle accident.
Another command officer that had overseen Neutral Zone mission scheduling had died from an alleged allergic reaction after dining with her husband at home.
"The second reason I asked you here is one of a far more personal nature," Rixx admitted.
He explained that whatever was occurring seemed to influence Terran human Starfleet officers more so than other humanoids. As a Bolian, Rixx had watched several old human colleagues suddenly begin exhibiting irrational and odd behaviour – including the loss of long-term memories.
Rixx had considered the possibility of some kind of contagion but had thus far found no proof. Rixx was seemingly unaffected – as was his Vulcan Second Officer.
"Whatever's going on, it's likely going to hit the Flagship sooner or later," Rixx said.
Tasha nodded.
He was right.
If there was some kind of conspiracy, it was only a matter of time before the Enterprise became entangled with it.
"Your Second Officer is an android, is he not?" Rixx questioned.
"Yes," Tasha answered.
"Then if this is some kind of psychological control, mental influence, or disease, then he may be the only officer in Starfleet not at risk," Rixx said.
Tasha cocked her head to the side and her eyes glazed over momentarily as she considered this notion.
"I need to know if you think he can be trusted," Rixx said.
Tasha was momentarily taken aback by the question.
"Lieutenant Commander Data would never do anything to harm the Federation," Tasha said after a few seconds.
"I'm sure he wouldn't," Rixx replied. "I know so little about him. I've read through his service record, but what I need to know is if he can be trusted."
Tasha didn't follow.
"Whatever this is, every single one of the Enterprise's senior officers is vulnerable – including you," Rixx explained. "What I'm asking is, if it comes to it, can the android be trusted to think independently? Do you believe he is capable of autonomous decision making? Can he recognise if orders are dangerous or irrational?"
Tasha blinked a few times and had to remind herself that Rixx wasn't intending to be disrespectful.
"If it comes down to it, will the android be able to make command decisions or is he programmed to follow Picard?" Rixx questioned.
Now Tasha understood what Rixx's line of questioning was for.
"Data is fully capable of individual thought and decision-making. His rank is not honorary. He's earned it in his own right," Tasha said. "And if it weren't for the fact that he's not personally ambitious, he'd have his own command by now."
She took a breath and smiled.
"In his dual roles as the head of both Sciences and Operations, Data makes command decisions every day," Tasha continued. "Probably better than you or I could."
Having said her peace, Tasha waited for Rixx to respond.
He nodded slowly as he considered her endorsement of the android.
"Captain," Tasha began slowly. "In full disclosure, you should be aware that I have a personal relationship with the Lieutenant Commander."
"You are friends," Rixx said.
"More than friends," Tasha responded.
It was out in the open now. Tasha relaxed a bit knowing that she had made an effort to clear up any conflict of interest.
"But I meant what I said. Every word. You should know that I say it as a fellow officer that's worked beside him for two years and seen the kind of man he is," Tasha clarified. "And not because he shares my bed."
"I understand," Rixx replied.
She didn't need to justify her reasons to Captain Rixx.
Four years earlier they had liberated a Cardassian forced labour camp as part of a six-month covert operation. They had gone to hell and back together and there was a bond of mutual trust that came with that.
"Have you noticed anything strange about Captain Picard?" Rixx inquired. "Unusual behaviour, bizarre orders?"
Tasha hesitated.
She recalled his order to end her investigation into the Romulan incident – and the uncharacteristic anger that had accompanied the order.
But Captain Picard's reaction had led Tasha to believe it was a combination of concern and pressure from above that had led to such an order rather than any kind of voluntary cooperation. It was obvious the Captain had been bothered by it.
Tasha knew Captain Picard would never willingly collaborate with the Romulans.
But she also understood she had a duty not to ignore such behaviour.
"Tasha?" Rixx prompted.
"No," Tasha responded. "I haven't seen any unusual orders from the Captain."
"But?" Rixx pressed.
He had sensed her hesitancy.
"Back when we had the incident along the Neutral Zone, I approached him off the record about my suspicions," Tasha said. "He cautioned me against pursuing it further. In fact, he was quite worried about the repercussions of doing so. I suspected he was being pressured but he wouldn't discuss it further."
Tasha paused and took a deep breath.
"Not that Jean-Luc Picard has ever been one to bow to pressure," Tasha added. "But I think he had concern for the safety of the crew."
Rixx understood. And he could empathise with Picard's position.
"It's possible," he replied. "It's a fine line to walk as a Captain operating outside the chain of command on something like this."
Rixx himself was taking a great risk. Ever since he had begun to notice there was something going on, he'd carefully reached out to a select few Starfleet officers to try and gather information and get a handle on the situation.
"Where do we go from here?" Tasha asked.
Meanwhile, back at the reception there had been a marked change of pace. The soft jazz and polite cocktail hour crowd had filtered out. The lights were dimmer, the music was louder, and there was a collective attitude of rolled-up sleeves and partially unbuttoned dress uniforms as the best and brightest of Starfleet let loose.
Deanna had opted to skip out early in the evening. She had promised to spend the evening with her mother in the city before returning to the Enterprise.
Worf was doing his best to avoid K'Ehleyr. It certainly wasn't easy. And a part of him suspected that she got a kick of coming just close enough to put him on edge before striking up a conversation with someone on the other side of the room.
In an attempt to avoid an awkward conversation, he'd been dancing around everywhere – except the dance floor.
Miles and Geordi were still arguing over the merits of third nacelle – much to the chagrin of Captain Picard and Data.
"Will the two of you give it a rest already?" Captain Picard asked. "Grab a drink. Take a swing on the dance floor. Eat something! The Berellian confectioneries are quite excellent."
Agreeing to a temporary truce, the two men set off in search of the buffet table.
Data had sat quietly studying the room, happy for the chance to engage in one of his favourite hobbies. People-watching provided Data with a unique opportunity to study humanoid behaviour and with so many targets it was hard to focus.
"Mr Data," Picard said. "If I've never made clear just how deeply I appreciate our friendship and the ability to quietly enjoy the evening together, then let me just say I cannot begin to thank you enough."
"Hmm," Data nodded.
Commander Riker was having a grand time tearing it up on the dance floor with the Second Officer from the Enterprise's sister ship, the USS Yamato.
"She's from Risa," Riker had said with a big grin before heading off to meet her under the flashing lights.
"I think I'm going to dip out early as well," Beverly said, excusing herself.
She was heading across the bay to attend an Academy recruiting event with Wesley.
On her way out the door, she bumped into a tall man with a long ponytail and distinctive earring. He could very well have been a rugged Will Riker.
Or Will Riker in another life. Beverly mused to herself.
"Sorry," Beverly apologised.
He took hold of her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
"No reason to apologise," he assured her. "If we hadn't bumped into one another then I wouldn't have had the privilege of meeting someone so lovely as yourself."
Beverly blushed.
It had been a long time since she'd experienced this kind of forward behaviour from a stranger.
"Okona. Thadian Okona," he said, introducing himself.
"Erm, Beverly. Doctor Beverly Crusher," she replied.
"Well Beverly Doctor Beverly Crusher, will I be seeing you on the dance floor?" Okona inquired with a charming grin.
"Not tonight," she answered.
A part of her was disappointed that she had to go. It had been ages since she'd danced with anyone.
"Maybe that's for the best," he began. "You see, I'm here to DJ for the next few hours and something tells me I'd have a hard time focusing on anything but you."
Over at the table, Miles and Geordi had returned from their trip in search of food.
"You were right, Captain," Miles said as he took a seat. "These Berellian confectionaries are delicious."
"They're not bad, but it's like they're missing something," Geordi said. "Like they need a little salt to balance the sweetness from the chocolate."
Geordi's face scrunched up as he tried to think of the name of the food it reminded him of.
"Ossian cocoa nibs," Geordi said with a snap of his fingers.
Miles stopped. He dropped his fork and shot Geordi a look.
"What?" Geordi shrugged.
"This is the best damn thing I've tasted in ages," Miles said. "And you compare it to an Ossian cocoa nib?"
"Because that's what it tastes like!" Geordi exclaimed.
"This is far better quality than a cocoa nib," Miles countered.
Across the table, Captain Picard set down his saucer of tea. He leaned back and took a heavy breath as he listened to the two men debate the finer points of confectionaries.
"Do you know Dexter Remmick?" Rixx questioned.
"From the Inspector General's office?" Tasha asked.
Rixx explained that Remmick shared his suspicions and had agreed to quietly look into them. As an officer of the Inspector General's office, Remmick would have the ability to move freely without much oversight from Starfleet Command.
Remmick was concerned about outside influence in the Command Structure. However, without more evidence it was hard to know where it had originated nor how deep it had spread. Remmick had wanted to take their concerns to Admiral Quinn immediately, but Rixx had cautioned against it.
Rixx had warned that if they didn't dig out the root of the problem, it would continue to spread branches under the metaphorical protection of being buried.
Such freedom of movement was necessary in a day and age when all flight logs were reviewed by Operational Support Services.
"Do you trust him?" Tasha inquired.
"I don't trust anyone," Rixx answered honestly. "And neither should you."
Rixx glanced the digital time display on the wall.
"I should get back before my absence is noted," Rixx said.
"Right," Tasha agreed.
"I can't ask you to help me," Rixx said. "The risk of being involved in something like this-"
"You don't need to say it," Tasha assured him. "I know."
Rixx advised that he would be in touch covertly. He encouraged Tasha to reach out if she noticed anything suspicious on the Enterprise and instructed her to use secured, private channels only for relaying information.
They agreed on a double codeword system for communications. One code if they were communicating freely and a second to use if they were being forced to relay a communication.
"And Tasha," Rixx warned as he gripped her arm. "Do not trust anyone."
They left separately, Rixx stepping away first to return to the conference and re-join his crew.
Tasha waited fifteen minutes and then slipped back out on the streets of San Francisco.
She had considered returning to the reception but wasn't feeling up to it following her conversation with Rixx.
Several blocks away, the remaining crew from the conference reception had reached their limit. The 'real stuff' was flowing freely and the loud, constant thumping beat of the Risian deep club tracks was starting to grate on Captain Picard's nerves.
Data found the sound hypnotic – if not a bit repetitive.
But he had the ability to turn down his audio receptors and listen at a more acceptable volume than his human companions.
They had a big day tomorrow with their final resupply and retrofit before returning to space for their mission to the Jarada sector.
It would be a full day, and everyone was ready to turn in for the night.
Even Commander Riker was ready for a good night's sleep.
They were on their way out of the reception when Geordi and Miles resumed their earlier debate on the nacelles.
"Data, you still haven't given us an answer," Geordi reminded him.
"Geordi," Data said as he turned back to look at him. "I do not wish to-"
Data collided with something.
Or rather, someone.
Two Lieutenants were helping a tall Lieutenant Commander up off the pavement.
"Watch where you're going, tin can," one of them snapped.
"It's fine," the Lieutenant Commander drawled as he dusted himself off. "I'm sure we can't fault the android for a programming failure."
Data was about to apologise when he recognised the sandy-haired Lieutenant Commander as the same one Tasha had been keen to avoid the night of the reunion.
For a moment the two stared at one another and said nothing.
"Is there a problem?" Commander Riker asked.
The Lieutenant Commander looked Riker up and down and then smiled.
"You're from the Enterprise," he remarked in astonishment. "It's the android."
He studied Data carefully. Data recognised the look. He'd experienced it plenty of times before whenever someone viewed him as a spectacle of entertainment. One of the Lieutenants hollered back across the campus to a fellow officer, encouraging them to come check out 'that android from the Enterprise.'
"Yes, we are," Captain Picard said, stepping forward. "As my First Officer asked, is there a problem?"
His tone was polite, yet firm.
"No, no," the Lieutenant Commander assured him.
He seemed amused by the fact they were from the flagship.
"Then I believe we should be on our way," Captain Picard said in an attempt to urge his officers to keep moving.
Jean-Luc had been in his own fair share of scraps over the years as a young man at these sorts of events. He had no desire to repeat the experience with his crew in tow.
"Do me a favour?" the Lieutenant Commander requested.
He smirked, doing his best to hide just how amused he was by his own luck.
"Tell Natasha Yar that 'tiger says hi buttercup'," the Lieutenant Commander said as the group from the Enterprise began to walk away.
"Yeah sure. Whatever, man," Geordi said, grateful this guy couldn't see him roll his eyes behind his visor.
There was no way Geordi was telling Tasha that.
"No," Data said simply, refusing to move.
Geordi and the rest of the guys stopped.
Data was staring at the Lieutenant Commander and if Geordi didn't know better he'd say Data looked angered. Commander Riker and Captain Picard shared a look.
Miles was watching the exchange with concern, ready to step in to back up Data if necessary.
Worf glanced around, mindful of the number of officers present as he evaluated their position.
The Lieutenant Commander scoffed.
"We're old friends," he assured Data.
"She was a child," Data said in a low, serious voice.
To Data disgust, the Lieutenant Commander laughed softly in response.
"She stopped being a child long before she met me," he said with a wink as he pat Data on the shoulder.
Data gripped his hand – controlling himself enough not to break it, but hard enough to make clear that he did not appreciate being touched by this man.
He was too angry for words.
Data didn't know the details of what Tasha's relationship with the Lieutenant Commander entailed, but he knew enough.
She had intentionally avoided him – her reaction was one of fear at the prospect of having to face him. It was unlike Tasha to hide from anything.
She had called him an ex-boyfriend.
Tasha had specifically stated their relationship had occurred during her time at the Academy. In particular, she had specified her first year as a cadet.
No, Data did not know the details.
But he knew that Tasha had been a child and this man had taken advantage of her.
And the thought of that made his bio-coolant fluid boil.
"Unhand me," the Lieutenant Commander hissed under his breath.
Data released his hand, and the man adjusted his collar in an effort to regain some sense of confidence after such an ego-bruise.
Captain Picard could sense something was wrong.
"We should be heading back to McKinley station," Picard said.
It was an attempt to diffuse the situation.
And it wasn't successful.
Seeing no alternative, Captain Picard stepped back to stand beside the two men who were staring at one another in anger.
"I'd appreciate you passing along the message," the man said with feigned politeness. "If you're unwilling to do so, perhaps I'll request to stop by the Enterprise then tomorrow now that I know it's docked at McKinley."
Data's eyes widened ever so slightly. The very nerve of this man seemed to grate on fibre of Data's construction – a fact that Lieutenant Commander Hobson had picked up on.
"Like I said, I'm an old friend," he repeated.
Data gripped the front of his uniform.
"She does not want to see you," Data stated quietly.
He did not wish to embarrass Tasha in front of her colleagues by airing such a sensitive subject.
The man scoffed, the corner of his mouth curving upward as if he found the entire situation a sick delight. Suddenly, he was struck by a strange notion.
"Do you like her? Are you even capable of feeling-"
Data tightened his grip, hoping to send a message that this was anything but entertaining.
That caught the cocky Lieutenant Commander's attention.
"She's an old girlfriend, alright?" he said, putting up his hands in surrender. "We were at the Academy together in a manner of speaking."
In truth, Christopher Hobson had been stationed at Starfleet HQ working as an attaché to the Academy.
"She was a child, and you took advantage of that," Data countered. "Not a girlfriend."
Captain Picard had heard enough.
"We're not permitting any visitors for the remainder of our stay," Picard said with an air of finality. "Our business requires we complete our resupply mission and be on our way. I'm sure you understand."
Data released the front of Hobson's uniform.
"Of course, Captain," he said.
With a short nod, he made to leave. Hobson pushed past Data, hitting his shoulder hard which had only served to injure himself and not the duranium construction of Data's skeletal system.
Data said nothing and avoided eye contact with the Captain as they walked forward to join the rest of the guys.
"Oh, and Captain?" Hobson called back. "Maybe get that android checked out before he has another programming malfunction."
Data stopped and turned, overcome with a strange sensation and ready to march back to the arrogant man. Miles and Geordi rushed forward to stop Data.
"Whoa, whoa," Miles said, putting his hand on Data's chest.
"Data, he's not worth it," Geordi assured him as he gripped Data's bicep.
Worf was ready to jump in as well. He took a step forward, but Commander Riker had reluctantly put out an arm to stop him.
"Let him go," Riker urged.
Data took a series of slow, artificial breaths in an effort to regulate his coolant system. He said nothing as he watched the man grin and walk off, satisfied with his ability to get the last word in.
Data was simultaneously feeling enraged and anxious.
He was warm – and not in the kind of cosy, delightful way that things like a good piece of music or a soft, post-coital cuddle made him feel.
Data could not recall a time when he had ever felt such a strong sense of uncontrollable anger. It was as if he wanted to smash something with his hands. Truthfully, Data didn't know what he would have done had his friends not stopped him.
And that frightened him.
He said nothing on their way to the transporter station.
Data understood he had experienced a strong emotional reaction. But it hadn't felt good. And the subsequent emotional drop of such a sensation could only be characterised as a blend of pain and shame.
It made him feel sick inside, like a bitter aftertaste from an unpleasant drink.
"Data, who was that man?" Captain Picard asked.
"Truthfully, sir, I do not know his full name," Data admitted.
He had only heard his first name was 'Christopher' on the night of the reunion.
"That guy was a royal creep," Geordi remarked.
"Seemed like a right tosser," Miles said in agreement.
As they waited to transport back to the McKinley station, Data stared off at the dark bay hundreds of metres below.
"Data, what was that about?" Captain Picard inquired.
"Please do not mention this to Lieutenant Yar," Data asked the group without looking away from the window.
Once transported aboard the Enterprise again, Geordi could tell Data wasn't in a good place emotionally.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Geordi offered.
"At some point, yes. But not right now," Data answered.
He wasn't ready to discuss it. At the moment he needed something else in the way of emotional support, the type of reassurance that could convey more than words ever could.
"Whenever you're ready," Geordi told him.
"Thank you, Geordi," Data replied before bidding him goodnight.
Every single one of the two thousand thirty-eight steps to Tasha's door was difficult. The journey from the transporter room felt like it was taking too long. Data's ability to track time down to the millisecond only amplified the experience.
A part of him was worried he wouldn't make it in time.
And for a fleeting second, he considered what may happen if he were to break down in the corridor.
Is this embarrassment? Data pondered
When he reached her door, he pressed the chime.
When she didn't respond after three point eight seconds, Data opened the door and let himself in.
Tasha would understand.
She was in bed, having fallen asleep reading with her PADD clutched in one hand.
Data kicked off his boots and crawled in next to her.
"Hey," she said, stirring as he slid in.
She turned onto her side to set her PADD down on the nightstand.
Data said nothing. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his head against her waist.
"Data?" Tasha asked, concerned.
But he couldn't respond. His voice failed him. His throat was too tight. And a part of him was having trouble putting his feelings to words.
And then she heard it.
There was a sharp, shaky intake of breath as Data's shoulders shuddered.
Tasha sat up and forced Data to look at her.
There were big, wet yellow tears running down his face.
"Data, what happened?" she asked.
She had only ever seen him cry twice before – once in a moment of unbridled happiness and again after their experience with Q and his deadly game.
"What do you need?" Tasha inquired as she thumbed away the tears.
Data pulled her into an embrace, shaking as the toll of such a strong emotional experience poured out on her shoulder.
"I-I do n-not want these emotions," Data sobbed.
"What happened?" Tasha repeated.
"I d-d-do not want to f-feel like this," Data confessed.
He was scared and confused.
He couldn't stop the tears. He no longer felt like he was in control of himself.
And for an android who was so new to exploring his emotions, such a notion was a terrifying prospect.
His mind had been racing since the interaction at the reception. Data's strength and speed meant that he had to carefully control the amount of force exerted for every interaction with other beings.
Even simple things like a handshake or a kiss required careful precision so as not to harm another.
Data could have seriously injured that Lieutenant Commander.
It would have ended his career in Starfleet.
Hell, such an action could have landed him back in the custody of people like Bruce Maddox.
All of these thoughts were swirling through his neural net as he theorised the countless ways in which inability to control his emotions could lead to losing everything.
His commission.
His friends.
Tasha.
His rights.
Tasha had no idea what had occurred, but she could see Data was in pain.
She wasn't sure what to say.
In truth, she didn't think there was anything she could say to console him.
"I do not want to feel," Data cried.
Tasha rubbed his back, hoping to offer some small reassurance while he cried it all out.
"I am n-not capable of handling these feelings," Data snivelled. "I have f-f-failed."
Tasha tightened her embrace. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears of her own. It was heart-breaking to know Data was in such distress.
"It's not a failure," she assured him. "In fact, it's very human to not want to feel sometimes."
She rested her hand on the back of his head.
"Especially when it hurts," she went on.
There was a part of Data that understood crying was a normal human behaviour.
But the physical and mental reality of experiencing it was entirely different than what he could have imagined. It felt like failure, as if there were some kind of malfunction within him.
Based on what he witnessed from his human friends, emotional turmoil could last for days, weeks, sometimes even years.
It was a wound with no immediate remedy.
And it stung.
"T-T-Tasha, will you deactivate m-me?" Data wept. "A-a-and reactive me in-n-n a few hours?"
At the moment, he wanted to feel nothing.
Temporary deactivation would enable him to stop this emotional sensation.
And it was Data's hope that when he was to be reactivated, the feeling may have passed.
"No," Tasha refused.
She leaned back, cupping Data's face.
Her face was etched with worry.
"I won't do that," Tasha said adamantly. "I'm sorry. But I will not do that."
"P-please," Data pleaded.
Tasha's face fell, registering the pain of refusing such a request.
"Whatever happened, the pain isn't going to go away simply because you turn yourself off for a few hours," Tasha said.
It was part of the reason she was reluctant to accommodate his request.
"Data, this won't be the last time something happens to cause you this kind of emotional response. Pain is a part of life," Tasha explained. "You can't get in the habit of shutting yourself off simply because it's hard."
She was concerned that if he were to do so, he would fail to confront whatever the cause was. In Tasha's eyes, activating and deactivating himself was no different than turning to narcotics or a holodeck addiction to escape from the reality of pain.
"You have to find a healthy way to cope," Tasha encouraged.
She pulled him into a tight hug.
"You're going to feel pain again. That's just life," Tasha went on. "But it doesn't make the pain any less valid. It doesn't mean you should run away from it."
Data knew she was right.
After a few seconds, he returned the embrace.
"Oh Data, I'm so sorry you have to go through this," Tasha said.
She placed a tender kiss on the top of his head as he wept on her shoulder.
"And I will always be here for you when it happens," Tasha promised.