Author's Note: Thank you all for your continued support on this journey!
I've been so eager to get to Home Soil! I think it's one of the earliest pivotal episodes in Data's character development – showcasing his creativity and accepting nature. He's willing to recognise life as more than just organic, carbon-based cells and successfully convince the rest of the crew to expand their minds.
Home Soil was also one of the episodes in which Tasha actually got to do her job as a Security Chief! There's also a moment early in the episode where she sticks up for Data and I like to cite that as evidence they were (if not lovers) friends and I think it demonstrates that she sees him differently.
If only there had been more first series episodes like it….
Per usual, there are some slight changes dotted throughout to better facilitate our story. I also want to expand on the lifeform found in this episode and tie it into the broader Star Trek universe & Data's story. This arc will have implications for future chapters in The Choice.
A note on electrocution – low voltage is where you become 'stuck' and cannot move. High voltage will typically throw you off or back. In this chapter, we are dealing with high voltage.
Thank you for your patience with this update! I've got a new HUGE project in the works (more details coming soon)! Thank you for all your support!
"We'll I'm out," Miles announced.
He tossed his cards down on the table and reached for his pint glass.
"Can you believe it? Six hands and all of them lousy," Miles grumbled.
"With your luck?" Riker teased.
"What I can't believe is that we're on another mapping mission," Geordi said.
Following their assignment to Mordan, the Enterprise had received new orders. To everyone's dismay it was another mapping mission – this time, the Pleiades Cluster.
"How many more of these do you think we'll get?" Geordi asked. "I mean there's only so many times I can run a maintenance cycle."
"Doesn't it strike anybody as odd that the flagship is getting assigned these tasks?" Beverly asked.
She had recently spoken with a colleague aboard the Enterprise's sister ship, the USS Yamato, and confirmed she was facing similar assignments.
"I mean why are they sending Galaxy class ships on mundane cartography assignments?" Beverly went on. "As much as I'd like to believe that things really are that stable, I know better."
Worf and Tasha exchanged a dark look across the table.
Their fears about Romulan interference were growing stronger with each passing day. They both believed this mapping mission was just the latest attempt to side-line the Enterprise.
They were all thinking it, but no one wanted to voice it aloud.
It seemed whenever the subject came up, Tasha was quick to kill it by changing the subject. Riker knew that there were classified memos circulated from Starfleet security and that Tasha had connections from her time with grey ops.
Riker saw her shift uncomfortably in her chair and suspected she wanted to avoid this chain of conversation.
"Is that a new painting, Data?" Riker asked, desperate to change the subject.
It was the first thing he had noticed out of the corner of his eye – a large, abstract painting that was hanging above the sofa in the main room of his quarters.
It certainly hadn't been there the last time they had done poker night at Data's.
"Yes," Data responded.
"Did you make it?" Riker inquired.
"Yes," Data answered simply before turning his attention back to his cards.
Riker looked up and blinked at Deanna hoping to get a silent read on the situation.
It was unusual for Data to be so brief with his answers. Most of the time he was itching for the opportunity to discuss his artistic endeavours.
To Tasha's horror, everyone turned to study the painting.
Stay cool, T. Tasha reminded herself.
There was no possible way anyone could know how or what the creation of the painting had entailed.
Just looking at it there was no evidence to indicate that the yellow imprints on the left had been made by an android's bottom.
Nor that the green smudges in the middle had come from rolling around together.
And the blue was simply a series of indiscriminate smears and splotches.
"It looks great!" Geordi said brightly.
"What do you call it?" Beverly inquired.
"Fusion," Data choked out.
"Seems appropriate," Deanna smirked.
Tasha grabbed her pint glass and down it.
She knew. Tasha cringed. She had to know.
When she finished, she set the glass back down on the table and caught her breath.
From across the table, Worf quirked an eyebrow at her.
Several hands later, the team decided to call it a night. Worf had been the only with any luck and everyone was feeling a bit down about the fact they were stuck on another mapping mission.
As they said their goodnights, Riker was the last to leave.
He caught Tasha's arm on the way out as she was returning the poker chips to the case.
"You missed a spot," Riker whispered.
"What?" Tasha asked.
She scanned the table for any loose chips.
"You missed a spot behind your ear. Blue paint," Riker grinned.
Tasha froze.
Riker gave her a knowing wink before making himself scarce.
Tasha turned around and studied the painting again.
When Data emerged from the bedroom he found her deep in thought, staring at the piece.
"Tasha? Is everything alright?" Data inquired.
"They know," Tasha said.
Data glanced at the painting and then back to her.
"I am sorry," Data apologised. "I did not tell anyone."
He had kept his word and not shared a single detail about the nature of their piece.
"I know, Data. But I think between our resident empath and Commander Riker they figured it out on their own," Tasha sighed.
Data stepped over to her.
"Would you like me to destroy it?" Data asked.
He would do so without hesitation if it brought her peace of mind.
"No," Tasha replied.
"I could move it to storage," Data offered.
"No, no," Tasha assured him.
She looped his arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder.
"I'm not embarrassed," she said. "It's something we made together, and I think there's some beauty in that."
It was a quiet shift on the Bridge.
For the last two hours the team had sat in their positions as they navigated through the current star system they were mapping.
Well, they were all sitting save for Worf and Tasha.
Granted – both of them were fine with that.
Sitting still for too long left them feeling restless.
Even Data, who was capable of maintaining a perfectly still position (and typically didn't mind), was starting to feel the itch to do something.
It wasn't as if everyone was itching for danger.
But they were the flagship. The notion of listlessly drifting throughout the quadrant wasn't exactly what they had signed up for.
The team shared a collective desire to explore.
Tasha felt a spark of excitement as she saw her console light up.
"We're receiving a subspace transmission from Starfleet Command. A priority two directive. No audio," Tasha advised.
Captain Picard practically leapt out of his seat.
"What is the message?" Picard inquired.
"We've been asked to check in with the Velara III colony. It's a terraforming colony. Command says communication has been sporadic and they'd like us to check it out during our next sweep," Tasha reported.
"Terraforming colony," Picard mused aloud.
"With sporadic communication," Riker added with a grin.
"What do you say, Mr Data?" Picard asked.
Data turned around in his seat.
"Terraforming is considered a priority mission. Such a communication issue would warrant an immediate investigation," Data said.
"Mr Crusher, set a course for Velara III. Warp six," Picard ordered.
"Aye, sir!" Wesley replied eagerly.
An hour and half later, the Enterprise dropped out of warp.
"Entering standard orbit now," Wesley announced.
The turbolift doors opened and Geordi stepped onto the Bridge.
He had made an excuse about double checking the power couplings on the science terminal, but it was really just a chance to be on the Bridge as they arrived.
Normally Geordi relished the opportunity to have more time. But they'd spent so many weeks on these mapping missions that he was literally out of projects. All priority maintenance cycles had been checked and rechecked. Even the backups were completed.
He had reached the end of his bucket list of ideas.
As they approached the planet, the desolation was evident even from orbit. There were no lush green continents or vast oceans below. It was a dull, reddish rock swirling with rusty clouds of windswept dirt and debris.
Many of the team were keen to get a look at a terraforming project in process. It was a complex, lengthy assignment that took years to complete. Velara III was at a critical stage. For most, it would be their first look at terraforming in such an early phase.
"It takes a special kind of person to live in such isolation," Picard commented.
"Visionaries who don't see this planet as it is, but rather as it will be," Deanna smiled.
She admired such commitment.
"You know I've always wanted to see a terraforming operation," Riker said.
"Then this shall be a prime opportunity," Data added.
"Lieutenant Yar, open hailing frequencies," Picard ordered.
Tasha tapped her console and opened a channel to the Velara III base.
According to sensors, there were only a handful of crew aboard.
"Hailing frequencies open, sir," Tasha responded.
"Velara III base, this is Captain Picard of the USS Enterprise," Picard said, introducing himself.
He was greeted with silence.
Jean-Luc repeated the message.
Once again, there was no response.
"I'm not detecting any malfunction or interference. They are receiving us, sir," Tasha advised.
From his position at Operations, Data ran a quick scan and confirmed Tasha's findings.
"Velara III base, this is the Enterprise. Please come in, over," Picard said.
"Maybe no one's home?" Geordi suggested.
"I am detecting several lifeforms. Atmospheric readings inside the operations centre appear normal," Data reported.
As the seconds ticked by, the silence became unnerving.
It was a sobering reality that they may have actually arrived at a situation requiring their attention.
Something was clearly wrong.
"Lieutenant Yar, prepare an away team to beam down to the surface," Picard ordered.
"Aye, sir. Suggest we take-" Tasha began to respond.
She stopped the viewscreen lit up.
An irritated middle-aged man appeared onscreen.
"Velera base to Enterprise. I am Director Mandl. We aren't expecting visitors," he responded, his voice dripping with annoyance.
"Starfleet Command requested that we check in you. We were advised there have been some communication issues," Picard said. "May we offer you some assistance?"
Director Mandl shook his head.
"All resolved now. We are on a very tight schedule and would like to be allowed to maintain it," he said.
There was perspiration beginning to form on Director Mandl's brow.
"We alarm him for some reason," Deanna advised in a hushed voice.
Picard nodded ever so slightly to indicate that he got the message. Deanna was encouraging him to keep Mandl talking so that she could get a better read from the planet.
"Your staff is well, I presume?" Picard inquired.
"Understandably tired. We have an immense workload, and our conditions are far from ideal. I'm sure you understand," Mandl drawled.
"Of course," Picard nodded. "Is there anything we could do to help? You and your crew would be more than welcome aboard for some rest and relaxation."
"There are a number of services you'd be welcome to including a lounge, fitness centre, and a spa," Riker suggested. "We also have some holodecks you might enjoy."
Director Mandl looked as if he had something sour on the tip of his tongue.
"No disrespect intended, but we cannot afford the time," Mandl said.
The viewscreen went dark as Mandl cut the channel.
"They've terminated transmission on their end, sir," Tasha explained.
"He's afraid," Deanna observed. "And it's escalating."
Captain Picard sat back in his chair and weighed his options.
"Mr Data, is there anything that you can detect that would cause the communication issues Starfleet Command reported? Atmospheric obstruction or subspace interference?" Picard inquired.
Data's hands danced across the Operations console as he conducted a series of sensor scans and then quickly evaluated the information they had obtained.
"No, sir," Data replied. "Atmospheric sensors are normal, and the closest Starfleet Command emitter beacon is operating within normal parameters."
"They're concealing something, sir. I can feel it," Deanna said.
There was no obvious explanation for the intermittent communication issues that had been reported.
This information combined with Deanna's read on the situation was enough to spur Picard to action.
"Open a channel, Lieutenant Yar," Picard ordered.
Captain Picard did not wait for Mandl to answer the hail.
"Director Mandl, we'd like to offer our assistance in checking your communications array," Picard said.
There was a brief delay.
"Now is not a good time," Mandl replied. "We are at a critical phase."
"My team would require no special attention," Picard assured him.
It would be simple enough to send down a team to investigate the communications equipment – and the perfect chance to send down a few others to poke around.
While Geordi and Miles worked on the communications equipment, Commander Riker and Deanna could get a read on the situation with Mandl. At the same time, Data, Tasha, and Worf could poke around for anything that seemed out of order.
"I'm not trying to be rude, Captain. But this is inconvenient," Mandl sneered. "Another time, perhaps."
"Director Mandl, unless you are refusing us permission, prepare to receive our away team," Picard said.
He motioned nonverbally for Tasha to cut the channel before Mandl had a chance to respond.
"He's going to get us, whether he wants us or not," Picard mused.
He turned in his seat to Riker.
"Be careful down there. Someone that tense might be unpredictable," Picard warned.
Fifteen minutes later, the away team had beamed down to the main control room of the terraforming base.
The base itself was relatively sparse. Due to the long-term supply and power demands of such a remote location, luxury was at a minimum. Unlike most modern starships or starbases, there was no spa or fancy equipment.
The terraforming team lived in spartan conditions where even their water usage was rationed.
"Welcome to Velara III," a woman said as she approached the group.
She was a brunette with a warm smile. The energy she radiated was the total opposite of Director Mandl's closed-off attitude. Deanna could sense she was genuinely glad to see visitors.
"I want you to remember it as it is now," she went on, glancing around the room. "In a couple of decades, you won't recognise the place."
She laughed.
"Luisa Kim, Gardener of Edens," she extended her hand to Commander Riker.
"Arthur Malencon, hydraulics specialist," a middle-aged man said, stepping forward to greet them.
He also seemed pleased by their arrival.
There was a third, younger man with sandy blonde hair. He dropped what he was doing and rushed over to greet them.
"Bjorn Benson, chief engineer," he beamed. "You're an android. Remarkable!"
He was fascinated by Data. Bjorn looked him up and down and began to circle like a hawk.
"Are there others like you? Is your neural network based on a duotronic design?" Bjorn inquired.
"Positronic," Data answered.
Data was beginning to feel a bit crowded.
"How does your power cell function? And how often must you recharge? What is your computing power?" he stopped as he caught sight of Data's pips.
Bjorn's eyes went wide.
"You're an officer!" he said in astonishment.
"Lieutenant Commander Data," Data said, introducing himself. "Chief Operations Officer. And Chief Science Officer."
"And third in command of the Enterprise," Tasha added.
Second Officer of the Federation's flagship was no small role – and sometimes Data needed a gentle nudge to recognise that.
All of a sudden, one of the consoles began to signal for attention.
"Excuse me, I must see to that alert. I hope we can talk later, Commander," Bjorn said before rushing back to his workstation.
"There are so few of us," Luisa explained.
She waved them over to one of the nearby view windows.
The team scrambled over to take a look at the planet outside. It was still a cold, arid landscape. According to Luisa, it would be another thirty years before they would have a usable biosphere for living space.
At the moment, the team was focused on hydraulic landscaping in order to reduce the saline content of the water located in an underground aquafer.
"We take a lifeless planet and transform it into a lush, green world little by little. Someday this will be an M-class environment capable of supporting life," Luisa explained. "Right now most of our work is focused on pumping and desalinating the subsurface water. Once we oxygenate and replace it, then we can begin introducing microorganisms."
"You make it sound poetic," Riker grinned.
Deanna fought the urge to roll her eyes.
Only Will Riker would attempt to turn terraforming into an open invitation for flirtation.
"Well, maybe. We're just looking forward to transitioning from our small hydroponic garden to having real, arable land," Luisa explained.
Velara III base had been in operation for nearly four years. The first three years, the team had subsisted on dry ration packs and nutrient supplements. The addition of the hydroponic garden a year earlier had been a welcome relief – providing a small, sustainable crop of fresh herbs, leafy greens, and blueberries.
But it was a small crop and certainly not something that would last long-term.
Their plans for the base included the construction of a greenhouse. They were due to have six more staff join in the next eighteen months and needed to ramp up their food production in order to ensure adequate supplies.
"The efficiency of your hydraulic landscaping seems to be diminished due to the high saline content," Data observed as he scanned one of the computer screens.
"It is," Malencon agreed. "Right now, I'm more disturbed by these power fluctuations we've been experiencing in the servo-mechanisms that control the probes."
He explained they'd been dealing with some strange power issues for nearly a month now. Thus far, their own investigation had yielded no explanation.
"Could it be increased conductivity because of the saline content?" Geordi suggested.
Bjorn shook his head.
"That was our first thought, but the evidence doesn't seem to point in that direction," Bjorn advised.
"Perhaps we could look through your findings and see if there is a connection between-" Data began to offer.
He stopped as Director Mandl swept into the room.
"I'm Director Mandl," he announced with an air of gravitas. "I'm sorry about having been so abrupt during our initial contact. Being isolated for so long one tends to forget the proper social graces."
Data's brow furrowed.
He was struggling with how the length of time would cause someone to forget basic human politeness.
Data opened his mouth to inquire about this when he caught Tasha's eye.
She had anticipated his question.
With a subtle motion from her hand by her leg, Data got the message. Now was not time, nor was Mandl the right person to pose such a question to.
"What you are doing is miraculous," Deanna said with a warm smile.
She had dealt with people like Mandl before and realised he needed to be treated carefully. An ego stroke would go a long way in earning his cooperation.
"What we are doing is working with a difficult and demanding timetable," Mandl huffed. "There will be no miracle unless Malencon here gets the hydraulic probes back online."
Malencon scrambled for his toolkit.
"We're ready to step up to full conversion. Shouldn't you be in the hydraulic chamber, Arthur?" Mandl pressed.
"Now?" Malencon inquired.
He cast a concerned look across the room to Bjorn.
"Sir, we were going to run another simulation before proceeding," Bjorn explained.
"Yes, now," Mandl insisted. "We're already behind schedule. We can't afford to wait for another simulation."
Reluctantly, Malencon headed off down the corridor to the hydraulics chamber.
Director Mandl could sense the away team was concerned about this. Malencon was clearly nervous about the assignment. Bjorn seemed to be anxious too.
Mandl was desperate for anything to distract from the situation.
He couldn't afford to lose any more time by having these officers poke around his workspace.
"Here we have something that may be of interest to you. A vegetation graph," Mandl said, waving them over to his position.
Data glanced down the corridor to the heavy bulkhead door that led to the hydraulics chamber.
"C'mon," Geordi said, pulling Data in the opposite direction.
They crowded around a viewscreen on the wall as Mandl explained that their vegetation projections were really the key to a successful terraforming operation.
"Incredible," Geordi said.
He was astounded by the model.
"Month by month, decade by decade," Geordi went on.
"Every detail must be exact. You see grand, romantic concepts. We see unyielding rock under an ocean of sand," Mandl mused.
Deanna clutched her forehead and hissed.
"Deanna?" Riker asked.
"Commander," Deanna choked out.
There was blinding pain, so sharp and sudden that it had caught Deanna off guard.
"Malencon. He's in trouble," Deanna grimaced.
The team raced for the hydraulics lab. As they drew closer, they could hear Malencon shouting.
"Help! Somebody help!" he screamed.
There was a loud firing noise from inside the room.
Bjorn tried to open the chamber with his access card, but the door remained closed. Opening the console, he attempted a manual override.
The door didn't budge.
"We need to get in there," Riker said.
Malencon's screams had grown more desperate.
Data and Worf attempted to force the door open through sheer strength.
It wasn't enough.
There was a strangled cry and then everything fell silent.
As if on cue, the door slid open.
Tasha coughed and waved away the acrid, burnt smell of laser fire as she surveyed the room.
Data spied a series of burn marks and holes along the wall and equipment. He quickly analysed the trajectory and determined the laser drill was the culprit.
Malencon was lying on the ground, unmoving.
Tasha took a step forward. Data's arm shot out to stop her.
"He needs medical attention," Tasha protested.
"After we power down this section," Data ordered.
A few minutes later, Tasha got the all clear to head in.
"It should be safe in there now," Miles shouted from his position at the circuit access panel.
"I'm going in," Tasha announced.
She tiptoed into the room, mindful to avoid stepping anywhere there was broken material.
Crouching down next to Malencon, she was relieved he was breathing.
"He's alive," Tasha advised.
Tasha tapped her combadge.
"Yar to Enterprise. Lock onto my position. Two to beam directly to Sickbay," she ordered.
"I'd like to go too!" Luisa said, stepping forward. "He shouldn't be alone."
Director Mandl seemed irritated by this request.
"We must maintain our schedule," Mandl insisted. "Besides. They don't need us getting in the way."
"Arthur could have died!" Bjorn protested.
"He's going to if we don't get him to Sickbay, now," Tasha said.
Riker intervened.
"I'll take Luisa back to the ship to be with Malencon. I can fill the Captain in on what's transpired," Riker offered. "Data, you know what to do down here."
As soon as they had beamed back, Data turned to the rest of the team.
He requested that Deanna speak with Bjorn – both as a matter of comfort and to learn any relevant information.
"Geordi, Chief, I would like you to begin a preliminary level one diagnostic on the drilling equipment," Data ordered.
"You got it," Geordi agreed.
"Lieutenant Worf, please conduct a routine security sweep and collect the drill maintenance logs for review," Data commanded.
Worf nodded and headed off to the nearest terminal.
Mandl looked outraged.
"You can't do this! We have a schedule!" Mandl said, his composure rapidly deteriorating.
"You are incorrect, sir. Under Starfleet Regulation 4782 subsection c, I hereby instigate a formal inquiry into this matter as I am authorised to do," Data stated simply.
The vein on Mandl's forehead was throbbing in anger.
"You may choose to comply with my inquiry, or I will confine you to quarters," Data said innocently.
Data waited patiently for Mandl's answer.
"I am the director of this project. Starfleet Regulations permit me the ultimate authority on this base," Mandl retorted, his voice rising.
He was not about to lose another minute of time based on these outsiders swooping in and throwing off their work schedule.
"A Regulation that is subordinate to the overriding section of 4782," Data explained.
Director Mandl opened his mouth to argue, but Data decided it would be best to end this.
"It is pointless for you to attempt to quote Regulation at me, sir. I retain the complete list of all Starfleet Regulations and subsequent legal rulings within my memory banks," Data said as he tapped his cranium.
From the corner of the room, Geordi and Miles exchanged a grin.
Data could be awfully good at clapping back when necessary.
An hour later, the away team was certain it had completely disconnected all power and backup systems from the hydraulics chamber.
It was isolated from the other base systems.
The Enterprise had beamed down diagnostic tools and repair equipment to allow the team to better investigate what had occurred.
Miles and Worf were working their way through the base looking for any signs of sabotage in obvious places like transformers, power junctions, and terminals.
Geordi and Data were inside the hydraulics chamber looking for any clues to the mystery of Malencon's misfortune.
While Geordi studied the drill's maintenance logs, Data scanned through all of the recent computer code.
It didn't add up.
There was no error report. No incorrect inputs or crossed circuit commands.
"Geordi, this is intriguing," Data said.
Geordi set down his tricorder and stepped over next to Data.
"I have seen malfunctions, but this is almost as if the laser drill seemed to operate itself with a will separate from its control console."
"That's not possible," Geordi said, scratching the back of his head.
There had to be something they had missed.
"The laser blasts did cease when Malecon was incapacitated," Data added.
"Well maybe Malencon stopped it, just not in time," Geordi suggested.
Data stopped scrolling and stopped the screen on the final set of command inputs.
"That is not possible," Data said, indicating to the screen.
There was no evidence to indicate Malencon input any commands after the firing pattern began.
"Data, what are you suggesting?" Geordi inquired.
"Uncertain," Data responded.
There were any number of possible explanations – each as unsettling as the last.
Sabotage by an outside force.
Or at the hands of one of the scientists. Data contemplated.
It was a dark thought, but certainly not one outside the realm of possibility. Data could theorise a dozen factions that could benefit from the failure of a Federation terraforming project.
Data knew there was only one way to get more answers.
"Geordi, please return power to this section. I wish to reactivate the programme," Data said.
Geordi sighed.
He was about to argue against Data's idea when Data put up a finger.
"We have exhausted all other avenues of information," Data reminded him.
"Be careful," Geordi said.
He gave Data's shoulder a supportive squeeze and then stepped out to reconnect the hydraulics chamber to the main power cell.
Data heard a familiar hum as the system came back online.
He turned to the console and flipped the switch to begin charging the drill.
"You alright in there?" Geordi called from down the corridor.
"I am initiating the base drilling programme," Data shouted back.
The laser activated and turned toward the tunnel in the wall where it resumed drilling into the rock at a normal pace.
All of a sudden, the doors to the chamber slammed shut.
Data's bioplast sensors detected a laser beam directed at the back of his neck.
He whipped around to find the drill aimed directly at him.
Data dodged the beam as it fired.
He rolled to the left, the right, then the right again.
It seemed with each evasive manoeuvre the machine was capable of tracking and adjusting itself to follow a moving target.
Out in the corridor, the team could hear the commotion from the drill blasting the walls and the bulkhead door.
They leapt into action.
Miles raced for the nearest master control power panel. Geordi deactivated the servos that provided power to the drill. Worf rushed for the door and tried in vain to force it open.
"Geordi! Servos off!" Data ordered as he dodged another blast, rolling out of the way just in time.
He was managing to stay one step ahead of the renegade drill – but just barely.
"They are off!" Geordi responded.
Geordi couldn't understand how the drill was still drawing power if he had disabled both the main and backup lines.
"Data? Data, what's happening?" Geordi said in a panic.
"Too much to explain," Data responded.
To the others, Data's response may not have sounded like anything out of the ordinary. But Geordi could hear the alarm in his friend's voice.
Geordi turned to Benson.
"We need to get in there!" Geordi shouted.
Benson rushed down. Geordi, Worf, and Benson tried desperately, straining against the heavy bulkhead.
"It's no use, it's sealed," Benson said in astonishment.
The doors were not programmed to seal upon closing. There was something wonky happening with the electrics.
On the other side of the door, Data dove out of the line of fire and behind a nearby counter. A second later, he watched as the laser drill penetrated clean through the counter and equipment and blasted the concrete floor.
There was no place inside that was safe.
And because the drill was on a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree rotating arm, it meant that Data would have quite a challenge in reaching it.
Rushing out from his spot, Data attempted to get close. It seemed with each move he made, the drill adjusted – almost like it could predict his plan to disable the device.
Just in time, Miles O'Brien reached the manual power shutoff.
Using brute force, he forced down the switch.
There was no response.
To Miles's horror, he could still hear the drill firing away inside the room. He knew that if the drill was still firing that Data was still alive.
Faced with limited options, Miles understood that he had to kill the power – and that such a task involved removing the connective line that ran from the generator to the terminal.
Catching sight of an emergency access tool kit along the wall, Miles realised he only had one option left.
Keiko is going to have my head.
It was the last thing Miles thought before an electrical discharge from the line sent him flying back into the wall on the opposite side of the corridor.
Miles impacted the concrete and slumped down to the floor.
Miles O'Brien had no desire to open his eyes.
Everything in his body hurt. His head was throbbing. There was pain in both his hands and the soles of his feet.
Miles could hear voices talking in the background. To the left, he could make out the gentle beep of a vital monitoring console that was tracking his pulse, brain activity, and breathing.
He groaned.
A moment later, Miles felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Miles?" Keiko asked softly.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Miles said.
"Oh, Miles," Keiko replied as she stroked his hair.
She wasn't mad.
Keiko was just grateful he was alive.
"You took quite a charge there, Chief," Beverly said, stepping over to his bed.
Miles had felt every single one of those volts ripple through his body and discharge through his feet. And he understood that he'd be paying for it for the next few days.
Beverly did a quick check on his vitals before fetching her hypospray from her jacket.
"This should ease some of the pain," Beverly advised before administering a hypospray.
"How long was I-" Miles trailed off.
His mouth felt dry.
"About four hours," Keiko answered as she turned to the nightstand.
It had been an agonising four hours waiting next to his bedside. Keiko never wanted to repeat that experience again.
Taking hold of a glass of water, she offered the straw to Miles so he could take a sip.
"Ah," Miles said with a satisfied smack of his lips. "Thanks, luv."
All of a sudden, Miles's eyes flew open.
"Data!" he said as he tried to sit up.
"He's alright," Keiko assured him.
Miles hissed as he laid back down on his pillow.
"I should really get down to Engineering," Miles said.
"You need to stay put and heal," Keiko asserted.
Miles's brow furrowed. Despite his injury, he could recall that there had been a malfunction. Somewhere along the line, there was an issue with the base's wiring.
The manual switch should have ended all power draw from the drill.
"You don't understand," Miles protested. "Someone tampered with that wiring."
Someone had certainly been tampering and it had nearly resulted in serious harm to Data.
Miles knew Geordi would need him.
"I have to get down there," Miles insisted.
"Please, Chief! Do not get up," Tasha said as she swept into Sickbay.
"Sir," Miles responded.
"Doctor Crusher sent a message that you were awake," Tasha explained.
"Something's up with the electrics," Miles said with concern.
He had a duty to report that to Security as soon as possible. Internally, Miles was kicking himself that he'd been out for nearly four hours. That was precious time, and he could only hope no one else had suffered an injury during that timeframe.
"Data and Geordi are investigating it down on the surface. I'm looking into the terraforming crew," Tasha informed him.
Tasha paused.
"I'm really glad you're okay," Tasha said in earnest.
It was evident she was uncomfortable with this.
"I didn't break anything!" Miles said brightly, hoping humour would set her at ease.
She was truly grateful for the act. Miles's quick thinking had saved Data. The other outcome was unthinkable.
"Had you not acted," Tasha paused as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. "Well, Data said he calculated the odds, and let's just say they weren't good."
Miles had taken a heavy shock, but it wasn't the first time he'd been shocked by a panel. He'd need a few days of recovery. He was lucky it hadn't been more serious.
"You took a lot of volts down there. I'm not sure how many crew members would have put themselves on the line like that for an artificial lifeform," Tasha finally said.
"I was just doing my job, sir," Miles replied.
"Thank you," Tasha replied.
She gave Miles a small nod as an understanding passed between the two friends.
Like Tasha, Geordi, and Keiko, Miles had always been one of the few people that had seen Data as more than just a machine.
Miles had an uncanny ability to pack bond with anything – including much of the ship's systems. He treated them as if he were a caretaker and was certain the computer had a personality of her own.
It had only been a natural leap for him to see Data as a person rather than an android.
"I'll, uh, leave you to it," Tasha said as she headed out.
As soon as she was gone, Keiko gave him a tender kiss on the cheek.
"What was that for?" Miles asked.
"For being you," Keiko responded with a smile.
Down on the terraforming base, Data and Geordi were just beginning to get their investigation underway. Because of the issues with the electrics, Geordi had suggested that they rig an entirely independent power system to provide life support, lighting, and basic environmental systems during the duration of their examination.
He didn't want to take any chances of another malfunction.
Geordi also theorised that if someone had tampered with the controls and was intentionally controlling the drill, their independent system would remove that threat.
Director Mandl was not pleased.
In order to enact Geordi's plan, they had been forced to shut down all other non-essential base functions. An Engineering team from the Enterprise had partnered with the Botany department to preserve the hydroponic garden.
Supplies in areas at risk of temperature damage had been temporarily beamed aboard the Enterprise for safe storage until they could restore main power.
Director Mandl had complained – loudly - the whole time the team had been at work.
He was already furious the drill had suffered serious damage.
As soon as the power had gone out, Data had struck. He did not want to risk losing his only chance to disable the rouge drill. As such, Data had broken it in two – tearing through the circuitry, breaking the focus lens, and bending the mount in such a way that it would require hours of repair work.
"What did you do to it? A year's worth of work! Destroyed!" Mandl fumed.
"I had no choice," Data replied, astonished that this man would place the drilling project ahead of basic safety parameters.
"Well, I for one am glad you're alright," Geordi said with a hint of disapproval at Mandl's statement.
He wanted to remind Data that somebody cared – even if Mandl was ready to sacrifice his entire crew for the project.
Geordi surveyed the room, studying the scorch marks and burn patterns for any discernible pattern.
"So what happened, Data? Did you do anything that might have set it off? Could it have been attracted to something in your construction?" Geordi asked.
Data shook his head.
"No," Data responded honestly. "But the firing programme was dynamic."
Geordi stopped and turned back to Data.
"In what way?" Geordi questioned.
If the programme had been dynamic, then there was a real possibility someone was intentionally trying to sabotage the project.
"It adjusted to my tactics. It tracked me," Data recounted. "It could anticipate my reaction. A fixed programme is not capable of such a task."
Geordi's heart sank.
While everyone had been eager for an adventure – this mystery was quickly taking a dark turn.
With Worf and Tasha getting tight-lipped every time anyone brought up the Neutral Zone, Geordi was worried they were wading into a situation that smelled more and more like Romulan involvement.
"So someone was controlling the firing pattern," Geordi said darkly.
"That is the only logical conclusion," Data responded.
"That's impossible!" Mandl huffed. "Simply preposterous!"
Mandl tossed his hands in the air and quickly left the two alone, grumbling about wasted time and his rigid schedule the whole way down the corridor.
"I had no choice," Data repeated with a simple shrug.
Geordi chuckled as he looked at the broken drill, dangling from the ceiling at a bent angle.
"Just remind me not to play against you in laser tag on the holodeck," Geordi grinned.
"Malencon?" Picard inquired.
He almost felt it was unnecessary to ask. He could see from Beverly's expression that she was frustrated.
And a frustrated Beverly Crusher meant she had exhausted her options.
"I won't be able to save him. His injuries are far too severe," Beverly replied. "He's comfortable. He's asking to speak with you."
Captain Picard turned to Commander Riker.
"We can prepare the briefing. Data and Geordi have powered down the entire Velara III facility and are conducting their investigation now," Riker advised.
"Sir, with your permission I would like to return to the base to conduct a more thorough investigation. Commander Data believes there might be indications of tampering. Sabotage to the project," Tasha requested.
Picard quirked an eyebrow in her direction.
This was the first he had heard of such a suspicion.
"Evidence of interference?" Picard questioned.
"Call it a hunch," Tasha responded.
"A hunch?" Picard repeated.
Tasha paused.
"He said something is, um…afoot, sir," Tasha answered.
Deanna bit back a grin. To her amusement, Tasha had somehow managed to deliver that line with a straight face.
"I see," Picard responded. "Then by all means."
"Thank you, sir," Tasha nodded.
In fact, Data had more than just a hunch. Unfortunately, it was proving difficult to link the unusual responsive drill manoeuvring to any of the other crew on the base.
Tasha and Deanna had combed through all of the psych profiles, personnel records, and training evaluations of the other staff. They could determine no motive, intent, or psychological capacity to commit murder or attempt to derail the project.
Even the zealous Director Mandl seemed more fanatical terraformer than malicious administrator. This project was his lifetime achievement. He had worked years to earn the position as director of the Velara III programme.
Deanna and Tasha had both agreed it was unlikely he would take any steps to such a massive undertaking.
"We'll debrief in ninety minutes," Picard ordered.
With that, the team dispersed.
As he rode the turbolift down to Deck 12, Captain Picard was trying to prepare himself for the conservation he was about to have.
It was never an easy task to speak with a dying person, but Picard knew it was his responsibility. And if it gave Malencon peace of mind to relay to the Captain his final instructions or messages for loved ones, then Captain Picard felt morally obligated to honour that request.
It was a small sense of comfort and came with the territory of command.
Captain Picard sighed and squared his shoulders before stepping through the door to Sickbay.
From across the room, he spied Malencon.
"He's not in any pain," Beverly whispered.
She gave Jean-Luc a quick, reassuring squeeze on the arm before heading for her office.
"Mr Malencon," Picard said as he stepped up to his cot.
"Captain," Malencon greeted him.
Malencon may not have been in any pain, but he could feel the extent of his injuries in the form of exhaustion. His body was failing him, and the painkillers Beverly had administered were making him drowsy.
But Malencon felt a duty to inform the Captain of what he knew with whatever time he had left – even if it were the last thing he did.
Malencon knew he only had a limited capacity to remain lucid.
"Are there any messages you would like us to send or special requests for your-" Picard began to ask.
Malencon waved him off.
"No, no. File in my quarters. All taken care of," Malencon managed to say.
Picard was at a loss of what to say.
Honouring a last request was one thing, providing comfort was another. It was a task that Jean-Luc had always felt uncomfortable performing.
"It's alive," Malencon choked out.
"What is?" Picard demanded.
"I should have been more forceful in my protest," Malencon said, voicing his regret aloud for the first time beyond his private conversations with Bjorn and Luisa.
Picard shook his head, uncertain of what Malencon was tyring to convey. He did not wish to assume the man was rambling, but it sounded incoherent.
"It's there," Malencon went on.
"What is there? What is it?" Picard asked.
"On the planet," Malencon wheezed.
Jean-Luc was intrigued. Their scans had shown no signs of life.
However, Velara III was in a prime position for any number of governments to try and seek to use the planet as a colony, base, or staging area.
And there were more than enough people out there with the ability to cloak a vessel or small hideout.
His thoughts drifted to a dark place.
Did the Romulans or Cardassians have a cloaked ship or duck-blind style small operations centre there?
Was it possible the terraforming crew had been under observation?
"Who?" Picard asked. "I need to know anything-"
"You don't understand. We found life," Malencon said wildly as he grabbed Captain Picard's arm. "It's-it's trying to-"
Malencon trailed off as he grimaced.
He was doing his best to hang in there to warn the Captain.
"It's down there. It's inside the-" Malencon was breathing heavily. "It's got control of the electrics and it's going to-"
Malencon's grip softened as the life faded from his eyes.
Jean-Luc closed his eyes and sighed as the heart monitor on Malencon coded.
Down on the base, Geordi and Data were still combing through the hydraulics chamber.
"There's not much left of this drill," Geordi advised.
For the last hour, Geordi had been carefully inspecting the remains for any clues as to the identity of their culprit.
Data was halfway in one of the tunnels conducting a level-one scan of the area. There had been a small, strange flicker of light that had caught his attention.
Initially, Data had suspected the flashes had been emitted from some kind of device – surveillance, power source, or another means of facilitating sabotage.
However, further inspection had turned up no such equipment.
In fact, the only thing Data had discovered was liquid.
Such liquid was expected. It was a part of the boring process as they drilled into the subsurface. Tricorder readings showed nothing out of the ordinary.
There were silica and crystalline particles, water, salt, and micas – all of which were abundant on the Velara III.
Despite this, Data suspected there must be something there. Although he could detect no signature, he figured there must be some kind of cloaked device hidden in the tunnel.
Ever since crawling inside, Data had picked up on a small, almost detectable graviton pulse that was being emitted from something.
"Geordi, I need some visual assistance," Data requested.
Geordi set down his diagnostic tool and crawled into the tunnel next to Data.
"Whoa," Geordi remarked as he caught the first flash.
Something was emitting light.
And not just a flicker – it was a whole light show.
Geordi had never seen anything like it. Given Data's calm demeanour, Geordi had a strong suspicion that Data couldn't see it in the same manner.
"There's nothing here but basic elements. No carbon. Sandy texture," Geordi explained. "But those flashes are almost musical."
He observed them for a few moments in silence. To Data it simply looked like a random, blinking light that would temporarily illuminate the tunnel before dissipating again.
"Data, I'm seeing colour variations and rhythms in complex harmonies," Geordi shared.
As they were alone in the tunnel, Data felt safe enough to share a radical theory.
"Speculation. Could it be alive?" Data asked.
Geordi frowned.
"How could it be alive? It's inorganic!" Geordi responded.
He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.
Geordi audibly cringed.
"I'm sorry, Data. I didn't think before I opened my mouth," Geordi apologised.
"Thank you for apologising," Data acknowledged.
Data recognised that Geordi had not meant to offend him. Yet regardless of the intention, the comment had stung.
Data had anticipated that would be the likely reaction to such a theory. It was part of why he had decided to share it with Geordi first to test the metaphorical waters.
"Data, you and Lore are the only known sentient inorganic life in the universe," Geordi said.
"That we know of," Data added.
Geordi nodded slowly.
He realised Data was right.
But a part of Geordi was hesitant to get too excited.
"If this really is a lifeform, do you know what that means?" Geordi asked.
"It means we have discovered what Mandl was covering up and possibly a motive for the attack on Malencon," Data replied.
After obtaining a sample of the material in a canister, Data and Geordi crawled back out of the tunnel.
"Hey!" Tasha said brightly as she stepped into the hydraulics chamber.
Worf was a step behind her.
"Lieutenants," Data responded with a small nod.
They were on duty and thus maintained a professional manner – even if Tasha wanted to throw that out after seeing Data's expression.
There was something about the manner in which he carried himself that indicated he was bothered. Tasha suspected it was from the attack.
"We should get this sample back up to the ship," Geordi suggested as he held up the canister.
It contained a small sample of a gelatinous-like substance – neither quite liquid nor stable enough to be considered a solid.
"What sample?" Tasha asked.
Geordi and Data looked at one another.
"We, uh, we found it," Geordi began.
"In the second boring tunnel," Data went on.
"We aren't sure what it is," Geordi concluded.
Simultaneously, they both turned back to Tasha and Worf.
Tasha looked from Geordi to Data for some kind of elaboration.
"I'll let Data explain," Geordi said as he made for the door. "Worf, do you want to double check this for a routine security scan to beam aboard?"
Worf easily picked up on the social cue that Geordi was hinting Data and Tasha needed a moment alone to break from their professional roles.
"I'll be along," Tasha said.
Worf nodded in understanding before heading out to follow Geordi.
Data turned and focused his attention on the computer terminal at the drill. He had already inspected it several times, but he wasn't sure where to start.
Data wasn't concerned about Tasha's response – he was still attempting to process the possibility of their discovery himself.
Tasha watched Worf and Geordi disappear down the corridor.
Once they were out of sight, she tentatively approached Data.
"Data?" she asked softly, resting her hand on his bicep.
She had no desire to rush him. However, she was worried about him. Surviving the attack from the drill had been a terrifying reminder that Data was not invincible.
Mortality in the form of irreparable damage was so rarely encountered that it was easy for Data to forget his own vulnerabilities.
More than that, Data had underestimated the emotional vulnerability of such an occurrence.
The last time he had faced the possibility of death was during the black hole incident. Now having nearly had his life extinguished by the drill, Data was forced to confront the matter once more.
Tasha recalled that the last time Data had been in this headspace, he had fallen back on the unhealthy coping mechanism of pretending he had no emotions.
It was a trauma response and Tasha recognised it for what it was.
Tasha wanted to head that off before Data was there.
"It will take me nine minutes and fourteen seconds to prepare a report once we return to the Enterprise," Data said.
Strictly business.
"Hey," Tasha said as she wrapped her arms around his torso.
Tasha rested the side of her face against his back and gave him a gentle squeeze.
"I am so glad you are safe," she confessed.
Data relaxed into the embrace. After a few seconds, he brought his hand up to cover Tasha's on his chest.
"I am alright," Data said.
He hadn't said 'functioning within normal parameters.' That was a huge step in the right direction.
"It's okay if you want to take some time off, you know?" Tasha said.
Starfleet protocols dictated that Data was entitled to take a leave from his duties following the incident with the drill. Data was so accustomed to shutting down his emotions that he needed to be reminded that he deserved the same options as humanoid officers.
"I want to be here," Data assured her.
He felt he had to be there – and it was not because he was repressing his emotions.
Data felt that as an inorganic lifeform he had responsibility to see this discovery through to the end. He was compelled to keep working.
"Tasha, I believe we have made a significant discovery here," Data said as he turned around.
Tasha's eyebrows went up.
"I think someone is attempting to cover up the existence of a previously undiscovered lifeform," Data shared.
"But our scans detected no life signs," Tasha said as her brow furrowed. "That's why this planet was chosen for terraforming. No life."
"I believe we have discovered a lifeform that is not carbon-based. It appears almost crystalline in structure. Completely inorganic," Data said.
Tasha blinked as the weight of his words sunk in.
Inorganic.
Tasha laughed as she flashed Data a brilliant smile.
"That's incredible," she said, beaming with pride.
Tasha's smile faltered when Data did not share in that excitement.
"Data?" she prompted.
He glanced down at the floor.
"I am not sure others will share your enthusiasm," Data said, lifting his head to meet her eyes.
"What do you need from me?" Tasha asked, squeezing his hands.
The mood in the Observation Lounge was tense.
The senior officers were seated around the table. Director Mandl was present as well.
Beverly had just informed him of Malencon's death. To everyone's displeasure, Mandl seemed more upset about losing a skilled hydraulics specialist rather than the loss of a colleague.
"We were attempting to trace the source of the malfunction when it attacked me," Data explained.
He and Geordi were recounting their experience in the hydraulics chamber.
"How much more of this useless fantasy must I listen to?" Mandl drawled.
"One of your crew is dead. One of my officers has been attacked. You may continue to stay in the temporary guest quarters that we have provided for you and your crew as long as you cooperate with this investigation," Picard warned.
Mandl rolled his eyes.
"You have no right to interfere," Mandl countered.
"By all means, if you do not wish to cooperate we will simply continue without you," Picard said.
"I have work to do," Mandl said as he rose from his chair.
"Your schedule is on hold until we have a satisfactory explanation for this," Picard announced.
"You're overstepping your authority, Captain," Mandl argued.
It was evident he had no wish to work with Captain Picard to look into the cause of Malencon's death. In fact, Mandl seemed to grow increasingly flustered the deeper they probed.
"You may certainly choose not to cooperate. If so, then I will have Lieutenant Yar escort you to the Brig," Picard said simply. "What will it be?"
Picard looked to Mandl for an answer, placing the next move on him.
"The illusion of choice," Mandl grumbled.
"No illusion," Picard said as he put his hands up.
Mandl crossed his arms and sat back in his chair looking thoroughly agitated.
"Now then, please continue Mr Data," Picard requested.
"It would appear that someone or something had reprogrammed the laser's drilling system in order to control the firing pattern and aim. As soon as the memory bank received power, it turned itself on and went after me," Data went on. "Fortunately, I was able to cope with it."
"And not by much from what I saw," Geordi chimed in, driving home just how responsive and dangerous the drill had been.
"I believe the intention was to destroy any person in that room," Data theorised aloud.
"It's something that would require the talents of a master programmer," Geordi explained. "We're talking a system that's just as sophisticated as the Enterprise computer."
Captain Picard frowned.
Hiding that kind of equipment would require resources and technology far beyond anything they had ever seen.
"I don't understand. I thought we were working on the theory that this could be Romulan or Cardassian interference," Picard said.
Data and Tasha exchanged a glance from across the table.
"Sir, I do not believe this is a politically motivated incident," Data said.
"Then why? Who would go to such great lengths to harm Malencon?" Picard inquired.
"Life," Data said.
Captain Picard didn't quite understand.
"Life?" he asked, looking to Data for more information.
"The discovery of a lifeform," Data clarified.
Director Mandl was quick to dismiss this.
"A Federation recon expedition certified Velara III lifeless. There are no lifeforms nor does the planet, in its current state, have the possibility of supporting any life," Mandl insisted.
Before his project had begun, it had taken nearly a decade worth of studies and testing from Starfleet in order to clear the way for a new terraforming expedition.
"Scan the planet. You'll find nothing!" Mandl said hotly.
Picard glanced over to Worf.
"Our sensor sweeps did not report any lifeforms present other than the crew," Worf said.
"Understandable, given the novel nature of this particular life form," Data said.
"There is no lifeform!" Mandl snapped.
The room fell silent and Mandl regained his composure.
"Commander?" Picard prompted.
"Sir, I believe there is a previously undiscovered lifeform on Velara III. An inorganic lifeform. Crystalline structure. No carbon," Data announced.
"My word," Picard said in astonishment.
He felt a shudder of excitement at the prospect that his crew had stumbled upon such a discovery.
"Are you implying that I knowingly tried to hide this?" Mandl questioned.
It seemed his only thoughts lay with the project.
"That's what we intend to find out," Picard responded.
"I create life! I don't take it," Mandl barked.
He wasn't going to sit there and be insulted.
Deanna could sense that Mandl was feeling attacked and decided to try a different approach.
"I'm sure the existence of such a unique lifeform would shake anyone. It would inevitably delay or cancel the project that you've worked so hard for," Deanna said in a soothing tone. "And there would have been no way to detect it."
She was trying to set Mandl at ease. Reassure him that this wasn't his fault. Deanna was hoping that such an effort would help the belligerent director to open up to them.
"Starfleet conducted more than a decade worth of scans. There is no indication of life on Velara III," Mandl insisted.
"Captain, with your permission we would like to conduct a series of tests with Doctor Crusher's assistance," Data said.
"We can set up a quarantine field in Sickbay," Geordi added.
"And I'll post a Security detail inside," Tasha chimed in.
"I'd love to help!" Beverly said brightly.
The prospect of assisting with such a significant discovery was too intriguing to resist.
"What tests?" Mandl demanded.
"Thus far we have detected this…discovery…is capable of producing complex light patterns," Data said.
"There are variations in colour and harmony. It's almost musical," Geordi recounted.
In truth, it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen – right up there with the event horizon of the black hole.
"It is emitting heat, light, and graviton pulses," Data continued.
"Run the tests. Let's see if we can determine what this is," Picard said.
Everyone seemed thrilled.
Everyone that was, except Director Mandl.
"It's water! Silica! It is nothing!" Mandl said wildly.
He didn't want them to run the tests. Such an action meant it was possible they really would discover life and that was not something Mandl was ready to face.
"It's inorganic, Captain. It's simply debris and liquid. A by-product of the drilling," Mandl went on. "We would have sensed or detected something long before now."
"Based on our initial findings, it appeared to respond to external stimuli. It moves. For all we know these light patterns could be an attempt at communication," Geordi argued.
"At the very least, the test will help us rule out if this was a motive for the attack," Tasha suggested, hoping Mandl would see reason.
"Don't waste our time, Captain," Mandl pleaded. "You do this, Picard, and I will lodge a formal complaint with Starfleet Command!"
"It's alive," Beverly announced to the room.
Three hours later the team was assembled back in the Observation Lounge. Contrary to Mandl's protests, Picard had ordered the team to proceed with the investigation.
Beverly, Data, Geordi, and Deanna had been on hand as they ran the sample through a series of vigorous tests designed to determine if they were dealing with a lifeform.
The exact nature of this crystalline structured goop remained unclear.
But there were some things that were definitive. It responded to various external stimuli including light, sound, and touch. It moved independently both toward and away from various stimuli.
The sample appeared to react well to light and poorly to graviton pulses at high frequencies.
Most importantly, the sample was clearly able to reproduce. It was growing in size and seemed to feed on the energy from light.
"It's inorganic!" Mandl said as he slammed his hand down on the table.
"That does not preclude the possibility of life," Data countered.
"In. Or. Gan. Ic," Mandl said slowly, enunciating each syllable to drive home his point.
Data sat back in his chair.
"As am I," he replied simply.
Mandl was annoyed. Data had been grating on his nerves ever since the incident with the drill.
"That's different," Mandl said, incredulous that Data couldn't comprehend such a distinction.
"Why?" Tasha asked, eyeing Mandl sharply.
Tasha had left her question open-ended in order to give Mandl a chance to contemplate.
For a few seconds, the room was silent.
While Mandl had no knowledge of Data and Tasha's relationship, everyone else in the room was keenly aware of that fact – and could sense just how disapproving Tasha was of Mandl's prejudice.
Mandl looked at Tasha in disbelief.
He felt the whole crew had lost their minds.
"It is inorganic. It doesn't speak or breathe. It's not alive," Mandl repeated. "You all work with an inorganic lifeform and I believe it has left you incapable of seeing the bigger picture here."
"I am inorganic. I have no biological need to breathe. And yet, I am alive," Data pointed out. "Am I different because my construction emulates human physiology? Because I am capable of speaking in a language decipherable by humanoids? Because I am bipedal? Because I have eyes?"
"I will not sit here and be lectured by a machine on what constitutes life," Mandl scoffed. "I'm a terraformer."
"And I am an exobiologist," Data said, feeling no small sense of satisfaction.
Tasha had been about to jump in when Data had thrown that statement out there. Geordi and Commander Riker were both ready to chime in too.
But Data didn't need anyone to fight his battles for him.
His credentials stood on their own.
Tasha bit back a grin, catching Data's eye and silently conveying just how proud she was of him for standing his ground against a person like Mandl.
"So you see, sir, I am uniquely qualified to make that determination," Data concluded.
As soon as Data stepped onto the turbolift, Tasha grabbed the sides of his face.
"I…mmmh," Tasha kissed him. "Am so…mmm."
She kissed the left side of his face.
"Bloody…oh," she said before kissing Data's right cheek. "Mmmm….proud of you."
Before Data could stop her, Tasha captured his lips with her own.
Without breaking contact, Data's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Tasha keened softly and grinned against his mouth.
When they broke apart she stared up at him with a lazy smile.
"Hey, handsome," she smirked.
Data cocked his head to the side.
"Tasha, may I inquire if such an emotional response was in regard to the discovery? If so, I must point out that Geordi and Doctor Crusher will share in-" Data began to say.
He stopped as Tasha nuzzled against his nose.
"No, for standing up to Mandl," Tasha clarified. "It was, uh, pretty sexy."
She bit her lip and backed away to look at Data, flashing him the look he was only accustomed to seeing behind closed doors.
"I am an exobiologist," Tasha said, echoing his phrase from the briefing. "I wanted to leap across the table and jump you then and there."
Data's brow furrowed.
"I am an exobiologist?" Data repeated, perplexed.
"Yes, yes you are," Tasha said as she stepped forward and pressed against him.
"I find it increasingly difficult to predict what arouses you," Data confessed.
"Wanna go back to my place, sailor? We can have a nice, long talk about it?" Tasha suggested.
"I am not a sailor," Data said in a serious tone.
Tasha was afraid her joke hadn't landed. Data took hold of her hand and brought it to his lips.
"I am an exobiologist," Data added with a twinkle in his eye.
Later that evening, Will and Deanna were sitting together in her quarters enjoying a midnight cup of cocoa.
"He did know about the lifeform," Deanna said, speaking of Mandl. "But the idea of murder seemed to shock him. Whether it was the idea of it or the possibility of being accused, I can't tell."
"Luisa seemed genuinely upset," Riker shared.
After their meeting, he had gone to break the news to Luisa while Geordi had informed Bjorn.
"I don't sense any ill will from her. I agree. She was bothered by Malencon's death. And she feels guilty about the fact there was life on the planet. I believe her and Bjorn suspected as much but had no proof," Deanna went on.
"Geordi said Bjorn and Malencon were close. He took Malencon's death pretty hard," Riker continued.
He paused and took a sip of his cocoa before setting it back down on the coffee table.
"Which leaves us back with Mandl," Riker shrugged.
"If we limit our suspects to the crew," Deanna reminded him.
There was certainly a possibility that someone could be hiding or that the culprit was remote – monitoring from a ship in space or even on one of the resupply transports that visited every six months.
Tasha and Deanna were planning to start digging through the resupply transport crew records in the morning.
"I just feel so bad for Data. I think Mandl rattled him. Hell, he rattled me," Riker admitted with a sigh.
In Riker's opinion, Mandl's very presence was like nails on a chalkboard.
"I could just sense the anger radiating from Tasha. I wouldn't have blamed her if she'd socked him," Riker laughed.
"Oh that wasn't anger," Deanna said with a smirk.
Riker sat back and gave her a knowing look.
"Imzadi," he said, feigning being scandalised as he clutched his chest.
"It's not like I can see what they're doing. I just get feelings," Deanna clarified. "And from time to time those feelings are quite strong."
She sighed, content.
"And sometimes they're so lovely," she said.
Being an empath was no easy task – particularly on a ship with over a thousand people. Deanna had never told another soul, but there were some emotions that were easier to detect.
And given all the pain, anxiety, and fear that she encountered every day, Deanna had long ago come to the conclusion that she shouldn't feel guilty over blissfully basking in the post-coital afterglow that usually came about this time at night from somewhere on the ship.
Deanna had no way to tell exactly where it came from.
But tonight of all nights she knew precisely who was feeling that neurochemical dopamine release.
"Imzadi?" Riker prompted.
"Sorry, it's just very pleasant," Deanna explained. "It's like getting to experience all the benefits of sex without actually having to do any of the work."
"All the benefits?" Riker asked as he leaned in close and kissed the spot below her ear.
Three decks directly below Deanna, Data and Tasha were lying outstretched in a tangle of blankets. Data was lying crossways, resting his head on Tasha's thigh.
"So what happens now?" Tasha inquired as she ran her fingers through his hair.
"We will report our findings to Starfleet's science division. I would presume, based on the Prime Directive, that the terraforming project will cease immediately," Data said.
"Do you think they'll leave a team for study?" Tasha asked.
It was a question that had weighed on her mind for a while. In fact, she had been quite thoroughly enjoying herself when the idea had popped into her head, settling, and making her question whether everything they'd worked for in therapy was about to be put to the test.
"Perhaps," Data responded.
Tasha's heart sank.
She momentarily stopped stroking Data's hair before quickly recovering. Tasha realised it was selfish not to consider Data's feelings on the matter. She felt guilty for wanting him to turn down such an opportunity.
"Data, if you want to stay, I understand," Tasha said.
She may have understood, but it didn't make her feel any less miserable.
"It is an unprecedented discovery. The chance to study such a lifeform is an opportunity that is unlikely to occur again," Data said.
As the Chief Science Officer, an exobiologist, and one of the initial officers to make such a discovery – Data was well positioned to lead such a taskforce.
"I will admit that it is tempting," Data confessed.
He rolled over and crawled up the bed.
"But not nearly as tempting as remaining with you," Data said, inches from her face.
Tasha was at a loss for words.
She glanced away, unsure of how to handle the mix of emotions that were coursing through her mind. It was reassuring to hear Data say that, but she worried he was setting aside his own dream to make her happy.
"Data, I don't want you to turn down something like this simply because of me. I'll be here when you get done. I'm not going anywhere," Tasha promised.
Data gripped her chin and forced her to look back at him.
"This is my priority," Data assured her.
The next morning, Geordi stepped into the canteen. From the corner, Sonya Gomez gave him a small wave.
It had been a few months since they had openly confessed their mutual interest in one another after a failed date had turned into a rather pleasant evening.
And ever since that time, they had been taking things slowly.
Geordi and Sonya were both prone to getting worked up. Sonya had been open about her anxiety and Geordi had shared with her the details of his own string of failed romances.
Geordi had a tendency to get nervous. His perfectionist nature meant he tried too hard – often resulting in self-sabotage.
The two engineers had agreed it would be best to proceed slowly. So rather than the heavily romantic evenings of music and fine dining that Geordi was accustomed to, Sonya had suggested a standing breakfast date.
They often worked opposing shifts and the early morning hours were perfect – Sonya was coming off Gamma shift and Geordi was getting prepared to go on for the day.
"Morning," Geordi said.
"Hey," Sonya replied.
She slid him a hot cup of Raktajino from across the table - two sugars, cinnamon sprinkle, one pump of hazelnut syrup.
"Thanks," Geordi said, flashing her his signature smile as he got a whiff of his favourite way to start the day.
Well, his second favourite way to start the day.
Geordi and Sonya had breakfast twice a week and it was rapidly becoming his favourite way to start the day.
She was brilliant.
They could bounce ideas off one another for ages. Time was a lost concept when they were together. As they spent more time together, Geordi had come to know the depth of what a promising officer Sonya Gomez really was.
She wasn't merely a skilled antimatter specialist. She may have struggled with anxiety, but underneath that Sonya had a real mind for command.
Geordi had already implemented some of the suggestions she had for improving the atmosphere in Engineering.
Sonya had a way of perceiving things that took into account the needs of every crew member. She had managed to help Reg Barclay overcome some of his own self-doubt.
Even Geordi felt more comfortable as Chief Engineer with her patient, accepting way of doing business.
Geordi let out a satisfactory 'ah' as the first sip of Raktajino hit his lips.
"This is just what I needed," Geordi commented.
"Another migraine?" Sonya asked.
The neurological implants required for his VISOR usage had the downside of causing migraines. It was something Geordi had suffered with ever since childhood.
"Yeah. I don't know why, but this one was a real doozy. Worse than I've had in ages," Geordi shared.
"Anything I can do to help?" Sonya inquired.
"You already have," Geordi assured her.
He meant it sincerely.
Sonya blushed.
"You know we're due for shore leave and resupply on the planet Haven in eight weeks," Geordi began.
"Ooo! They have these teeny tiny little turtles that hatch and there's like a gillion of them racing to get down to the beach. They're endangered so they bring in volunteers to help them get down to the water. I, uh, I signed up. I'm so excited!" Sonya squeaked.
"Oh? You've uh, you've already made plans," Geordi said, feeling slightly dejected.
He had been planning to ask Sonya if she wanted to book lodgings in the same city. He wasn't ready to ask her for anything beyond that yet, but he had hoped they could spend some time together.
"Just the turtles," Sonya confessed. "I don't even know where I'm going to stay yet."
She took a long sip of her tea.
Geordi perked up at this answer.
"I went there once, Haven," Geordi explained. "Back when I was on the Hood. There's a little resort in Gwiwok. It's about an hour outside of the Capital City by shuttle."
Sonya nodded, hanging on his every word.
"I mean, I want to be clear I'm not, you know," Geordi stammered.
He cleared his throat and summoned the courage to spit out his request.
"I was just thinking maybe we could stay there," Geordi paused and threw his hands up quickly. "Not together. I mean, together, but not together. In our own rooms. Maybe not even in the same resort. But I just, um."
He exhaled nervously. Geordi was suddenly feeling unpleasantly warm.
"I just thought we could spend some time together there," he managed to choke out.
"I'd love to," Sonya shrugged.
Only Geordi had been so prepared for rejection, her answer hadn't phased him.
"And I get it if you'd rather hang out with your roommate or-" Geordi trailed off. "Wait, what?"
"I'd love to," Sonya repeated.
Geordi froze.
"You would?" Geordi asked to clarify.
Sonya nodded.
Geordi visibly relaxed. He took a few breaths.
"I, erm, I, that's great!" he replied brightly as he scratched the back of his neck. "Whoo! That's just great."
He wasn't sure what to say next.
He hadn't been expecting a yes.
"Yeah!" Sonya grinned. "I'm looking forward to it."
Geordi glanced out the window, completely awestruck that she had agreed to spend some of her shore leave time together.
He didn't mean to be so paranoid about their budding romance, but Geordi was so accustomed to being turned down, stood up, or completely ghosted that he was always waiting for the bottom to drop out.
Yet, it seemed each time he got nervous - Sonya surprised him in the most pleasant of ways.
All of a sudden, Geordi's posture stiffened.
"Geordi?" Sonya asked.
He did not respond. He seemed utterly fixated on something outside of the ship.
Sonya turned to look behind her. She frowned as there was nothing out there. However, Sonya also recognised that Geordi had the ability to see far more than she could.
"Geordi?" she tried again.
He remained silent and unmoving.
Sonya was reluctant to startle him if he was dealing with his migraine. She knew they could be disorienting. However, she was concerned about Geordi's rapid change in behaviour.
She was also hesitant to make physical contact with him without asking first. Sonya understood first-hand how unwanted or surprise physical contact could increase someone's anxiety.
However, given the circumstances, Sonya felt it was worth the risk.
"Geordi?" she said, tentatively reaching across the table to grip his hand.
Without a word, Geordi got up and walked out of the canteen leaving Sonya all alone.
Sonya bit her lip as she considered her next course of action.
Is he mad?
In pain?
Sonya closed her eyes and cringed. Social situations like this made her uncomfortable – particularly conflict.
However, she reasoned that it was completely out of character for Geordi to just walk away without saying anything.
She figured that whatever had occurred, Geordi may need help.
Feigning confidence, Sonya got up and followed after him.
Geordi had already been on the lift and gone by the time Sonya had reached it. But with the help of the computer, she knew that he had exited on deck three. It took her a few minutes to get up there, but Sonya was on a mission to find Geordi.
"Computer, where is Lieutenant La Forge?" Sonya requested.
"Lieutenant La Forge is in Transporter Room Three," the computer responded.
Sonya took a sharp left and made a beeline for the Transporter Room.
She was approximately ten metres away when she heard phaser fire.
Sonya stopped and crouched against the wall, making herself as small as possible. She strained her ears, listening for any sound.
Her heart was racing. Sonya's service record was fairly short. She was relatively fresh out of the Academy and had never been in a combat situation.
Rumours of Romulan or Cardassian interference in the terraforming project had been the worst-kept secret floating through the corridors the last twelve hours.
There was a second phaser blast.
A moment later, the familiar shimmering sound of the transporter echoed throughout the halls.
Then it grew quiet.
Sonya took a slow, shaky breath.
The silence was almost more unnerving.
She wasn't sure how long she waited there, her body pressed against the wall as she contemplated any number of possible ways that she could die at the hands of a Cardassian on Romulan.
Sonya had never even seen a Cardassian or a Romulan – and she had no desire to meet them anytime soon.
Where is Security? Sonya pondered.
The ship's sensors should have picked up the phaser fire and alerted both the Bridge and the officer on duty in the Security office.
Glancing up and down the corridor, Sonya heard no one approaching.
Geordi could be hurt. Sonya realised.
He could be hurt. And there could be no one coming to save him.
Clenching her fists, Sonya crept toward the Transporter Room.
She peeked around the corner and spied Lieutenant Hodge and Ensign Dale on the floor.
Geordi was nowhere to be seen.
"Computer, what is the location of Lieutenant La Forge?" Sonya demanded.
"Lieutenant La Forge is not aboard the Enterprise," the computer responded.