The Complication

by CharlieFenwick

Data struggles to reconcile the discrepancies between Tasha's verbal and nonverbal communication during and after the events of Ligon II. "Am I the 'complication?" Data asked. Data begins to develop emotions. Tasha/Data fluff & angst. Data/Geordi friendship. Covers the events of TNG season 1 with- missing scenes, original adventures, and some mild AU retelling of events.

70. Bit of Sunshine

Author's Note: From the bottom of my heart – thank you! I woke up this morning with all these new comments and was simply overwhelmed. You all are the best!

Eek! Here we are – the conclusion of the Haven storyline! Thank you so much for your patience with this three-parter.

Thank you for your continued interest in this story!

As a warning, this chapter contains mentions of CSA, pregnancy, and Data's past abuse. Also, unintentional underage drinking.

Tasha and Ishara are much closer in age in this story than they are in the original canon.

As a reminder – if you read or write Trek fanfiction OR make Trek fanart, I'd love to have you join me in the 2022 Summer "Trekbuster" Challenge! Details available at

---

"I'll beam the letter over. And the rose," Deanna said. "She should have it."

"You don't have to do that," Wyatt said as he shook his head.

"I want to," Deanna insisted.

They were gifts Wyatt had intended for Arianna – even if he hadn't been consciously aware of her presence at the time.

Wyatt nodded.

"Thank you. You really are one of the most beautiful people I've ever known," Wyatt said.

When their channel disconnected, Deanna glanced over at the chameleon rose on the table in her quarters.

It was a deep, dark shade of blue.

Only this time, it was blue for an entirely different reason.

---

When she returned from the Transporter Room, Deanna found Will Riker waiting outside of her quarters.

A part of her wanted to run away, to turn around and get back on the lift and be anywhere other than with Will.

He had been staring in the opposite direction. Riker turned at the right moment and Deanna knew she had been caught.

Riker grinned as soon as he saw her.

"Imzadi," he said with a smile.

Will's smile was genuine. He wasn't gloating. He was truly happy to see her and had been looking for her ever since the wedding had been called off.

"Will," Deanna said, greeting him with a tight nod.

"I didn't come to bother you," Will assured her. "But I thought this might cheer you up."

He was holding a box filled with some of her favourite treats, a bottle of Risian wine, and the Latinum-infused face mask she liked from the spa.

Deanna was touched.

"Thank you," she said.

Riker pulled her into a warm embrace, brushing the top her head with a soft kiss. Deanna remained stiff in his arms. He knew this wasn't the time or place to get romantic, but he was relieved that he hadn't lost her.

"What do you want to do tomorrow? Anything you want," Riker asked.

In order to facilitate the exchange of water between Haven and the new Tarellian ship, the Enterprise was going to delay the start of shore leave. Fortunately, Captain Picard had granted the senior officers the day off.

"I'm spending the day with my mother," Deanna said.

"Oh," Riker responded, doing his best to hide that he felt a bit put off.

He could try and hide it, but Deanna could sense his feelings.

"She's going to stay onboard tomorrow, and I want to spend some time with her before she leaves," Deanna explained.

"Of course," Will nodded.

He took a step back. He could sense Deanna wanted to be alone.

"I'm here if you need anything," Riker said.

"I know," Deanna said.

She gave his hand a small squeeze.

"Thank you," she said.

"Goodnight," Will said.

A part of him was hoping that Deanna would ask him to stay at the last second. Something in her expression was too calm, almost like it was forced.

It was as if she were a second away from breaking down and didn't want him to see.

And that was what worried Will the most.

They always had one another's backs. If Deanna didn't want him around for a good cry, it didn't bode well for Will.

"Night," Deanna said with a stiff nod.

Heartbroken, Riker gave a small bow and then made himself scarce.

He was worried this situation with Wyatt was still hanging between them.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Deanna set the box from Will down on the table. She made a beeline for the bedroom and flopped down on the bed.

Staring at the ceiling, she felt utterly confused.

It was so easy for Deanna to identify feelings in others. She was expert at helping them navigate their own feelings.

And this made it so much harder for her whenever she was confused by her own emotions.

Seventy-two hours earlier, Deanna had felt trapped by the idea of marrying Wyatt. She wanted nothing more than to roll back the clock and never be reunited.

She had wanted things to go back to normal – they way they had been both in her life and with Will.

Now that she was off the hook with Wyatt, Deanna was struggling to simply move on. She could easily go back to the way things were before.

Then why I am not sure I want to? Deanna thought.

---

Down in Tasha's quarters, Data and Tasha were just returning from cleaning up at the wedding. Tasha kicked off her boots and flopped down on the sofa.

The tables in Ten Forward were quite heavy – they had to be. Most furniture on a starship was specially weighted. It made things easier.

It was no good having to pick everything up each time the ship got banged around.

"Whisky?" Data asked.

"Please," Tasha replied.

Data ordered two drinks from the replicator before joining her on the sofa.

"How was Counsellor Troi?" Data inquired.

After the ceremony had been called off, Tasha had slipped away to check on Deanna.

"She wanted to speak with Wyatt privately," Tasha said.

Data took a slow sip of his drink.

A part of him was fascinated by the entire incident. Data had no wish to disrespect Deanna's personal space at this time. However, he was full of questions.

"What's on your mind?" Tasha asked.

"I must admit I am curious to understand Wyatt and Counsellor Troi's motivations for proceeding towards a marriage neither of them wanted," Data confessed. "I do not understand why they could not simply be honest with one another."

"Probably a lot of reasons," Tasha shrugged. "Tradition. Wyatt's job. I dunno, I think they both wanted to make their parent's happy."

Tasha snuggled up against the crook of Data's arm.

"We do not have such concerns," Data said suddenly.

"Hmmm?" Tasha asked.

"We do not have to meet the expectations of parents or family members," Data said.

Between the two of them Data had one living brother that was a homicidal maniac and Tasha had one sister that was a fanatical militia member.

"I would never have considered such a situation to be, as you would say, a blessing. But perhaps it is why we can be completely honest with one another?" Data suggested.

"Yeah," Tasha replied automatically.

Completely honest.

Tasha fell silent and Data assumed that her silence was the result of a long, tiring day.

"You know I never got the chance to see what you were going to wear at the wedding," Data said.

Tasha frowned.

"Data, you know that-" Tasha stopped.

She sat up. Tasha turned around to look at him.

Data raised his eyebrows and shrugged innocently.

---

Across the ship, Jean-Luc and Beverly were enjoying dinner together alone in his quarters.

They had chatted politely about Wesley's progress as an acting Ensign. He was preparing for the Starfleet Academy entrance exam. It was still a few months away, but it was never too early to start.

"It's hard to believe he might be leaving in a few months," Beverly confessed.

Jean-Luc wasn't sure how to respond. His first instinct had been to assure her it was unlikely to happen. It was no cake walk to land a spot in Starfleet Academy – particularly at Wesley's age.

However, Wes was a smart young man. And Jean-Luc recognised it was a very real possibility that he would be accepted.

Jean-Luc also didn't want his comment to be misinterpreted as an insult to Wesley's abilities.

"Well then, I guess you'll just have to take your meals with me more often," Picard said.

An awkward silence followed.

Beverly wasn't quite sure how to respond. She had often wondered if Wesley's presence was the reason she and Jean-Luc had been stuck in neutral for years.

Was this his way of signalling he'd be ready to move forward? Beverly pondered.

Desperate to change the subject, Jean-Luc blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"How was Deanna?" he asked.

"She wanted to be alone," Beverly explained.

Jean-Luc nodded and turned his attention to the roll on his plate. He made quite a production of cutting it and slowly buttering the top.

"I saw Commander Riker earlier. He said the same thing. I suppose it must be hard for them," Jean-Luc said.

The feelings that were shared between his First Officer and Counsellor were hardly a secret. Jean-Luc had always maintained a healthy distance from the details – it was plausible deniability.

However, he'd confronted Riker on the matter shortly after Data had revealed his own relationship with a fellow senior officer.

It had only seemed fair.

Riker and Counsellor Troi had assured the Captain that they were more than capable of separating their personal feelings from their roles on the Bridge.

Jean-Luc had briefly had a panic that all his senior officers were shacking up with one another. It was one more reason why he needed to keep his distance from Beverly.

"Yeah," Beverly agreed. "I'm sure this has been difficult the last few days. Having mutual feelings they couldn't act on."

Beverly froze.

From across the table, she met Jean-Luc's eyes.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"Beverly," he said.

"Yes?" she asked in response.

Jean-Luc's mouth went dry.

"I uh, I-I-I was wondering if you were ready for dessert?" he stammered. "Guinan has added a new recipe for an Apple-Cranberry Galette."

Though he was smiling, Jean-Luc's heart sank. He was disappointed in himself for his own lack of courage.

He had come so close to confessing his feelings.

Beverly understood. She expected nothing more and nothing less.

"That would be great," she said.

---

Later that night, Tasha lay awake in bed staring at the ceiling.

Data was lying next to her, snuggled up close with his head resting on her chest as Tasha ran her fingers through his hair.

His rest programme was activated, and on Tasha's request, he had reactivated it despite the fact Tasha was still awake.

She couldn't sleep.

Data words from earlier echoed in her mind.

Perhaps it is why we can be completely honest with one another?

Tasha felt sick to her stomach.

Their couples counselling sessions were going great. Tasha had never been so open with anyone before in her life.

Data was patient. Though he didn't always understand the nuances of social settings, he was more than skilled when it came to navigating their relationship.

He was empathetic to Tasha's quirks just as Tasha was understanding of his own.

For both of them, such behaviour was a trauma response.

And while Tasha had opened up to Data, there were still so many shadows from her past hiding in the darkest recesses of her mind.

Secrets that Tasha had carried as a part of her for years. Deeds that weighed heavily on her soul.

As compassionate as Data was, Tasha knew he would look at her differently if he knew – regardless of how hard he would try to hide it.

Tasha glanced down at the man asleep in her arms.

He was far too wholesome for this world. Everything inside of her screamed that she didn't deserve him.

Tasha closed her eyes and tried to will herself to sleep.

---

Deanna awoke the next morning to the rich, nutty aroma of caramel Raktajino. She didn't even remember falling asleep.

Deanna couldn't be sure when she'd dozed off – she had laid in bed thinking about nothing and all at once until sleep overtook her.

Tossing on her dressing gown, she surmised it must have been her mother. No doubt she had slept late and Lwaxana was out there having Mr Homm whip up something for brunch.

She stepped out into the main room of her quarters to find Will Riker bustling about as he set the table.

"I know we usually do this on Saturdays but I figured," he trailed off and shrugged.

After flashing her a smile, Will turned back to the table. He poured a large, steaming cup of caramel Raktajino and topped it with fresh whip.

"Eggs will be ready in a minute," Will assured her.

Deanna took a seat at the table and said little as Will finished up at the portable skillet. He carried over a hot pan and pushed some of the scrambled eggs onto Deanna's plate.

Deanna stared down at the food before her. There were sausages and mushrooms, fresh fruit, and even the uttaberry marmalade she was fond of.

Will was humming to himself as he took his usual seat across the table.

It was obvious that he assumed everything was back on between them.

Will dove into his plate. He was halfway through a mouthful of sausage when he noticed Deanna wasn't eating.

"You haven't touched your breakfast," he observed. "I can make you something else."

"No, this is fine," Deanna said.

She picked up her fork and picked at her plate.

Will smiled and went back to eating.

"I know what happened isn't easy to talk about. I don't expect you to work through it today," Will said. "When you're ready."

"Thanks," Deanna mumbled.

"We can talk about it when we get back from Haven. For now, I'm happy to move forward like it never happened," Will went on.

Deanna cringed and looked down at her lap.

"Imzadi?" Will asked.

Deanna looked up. Her expression was full of uncertainty.

"Hey, we don't have to do that. We can change plans," he said softly. "If you would rather get a cabana together or head out on one of those cruises, I'll book a room."

"It's not that," Deanna said.

Truth be told, she was really looking forward to having some time to herself at the beach.

Suddenly, Will was struck with a thought.

"It's the meet up, isn't it?" he asked.

They were planning to get together for one of their favourite games. They would meet up at a club to dance and flirt and pretend they didn't know one another.

In light of recent events, Will could see how it might be a bit too soon for a surprise 'stranger' date.

"Why don't I make arrangements for a quiet little dinner on the waterfront instead?" Will offered.

Deanna shook her head.

"Will, I need some time alone," she said.

Will set down his fork. He reached across the table and took hold of her hand.

"Of course," he said. "We can do our thing on the trip. I'll be just a cabana away if you need anything. But I'll respect your space."

Deanna could tell he didn't understand.

"No, Will. That's not what I'm asking," she explained. "I need time by myself."

"I won't bother you. I just mean you can call me if you need anything," Will said.

"I need time alone to figure things out," Deanna clarified.

"Oh," Will said as he released her hand.

He glanced back down at his own plate for a few seconds. Then he reached up and ran his hand back through his hair.

A part of him was hoping Deanna would keep talking. He found himself at a loss for words.

Another part of Will didn't want her to continue.

Because he knew where the conversation was headed.

"Was it my cooking?" he asked, knowing full well that wasn't the issue.

"I think we both need some time alone. I think we need to ask ourselves what we really want," Deanna said.

Both Deanna and Will had been comfortable with their arrangement. But Deanna wasn't sure that was all she wanted anymore.

Will nodded slowly.

"Alright. Alright," he said a few times in a slow voice.

Will got up from the table.

He opened his mouth to say something and then stopped.

"Will-" Deanna began.

"No, no. You're right," Will agreed.

There was no malice in his voice.

"I just didn't expect this to hurt so much," he confessed with a bitter laugh.

---

As soon as Will was gone, Deanna tried to eat. She found that she couldn't stomach anything. She pushed her plate away in frustration and groaned.

While clearing off the table, her door chimed.

Deanna ignored it. She was not feeling up to company.

The door chimed again.

Go away. Deanna grumbled.

I'm not going away. Her mother's voice responded.

Deanna stopped immediately. Before she could react, Lwaxana swept into the room. To her daughter's relief, Mr Homm was not present.

"Don't start, mother. I'm just in the mood," Deanna warned.

Deanna growled in frustration as she cleared the table, banging around the dishes a wee bit harder than necessary as she sought an outlet for her pain.

"If you've come to tell me your thoughts on the matter, I could care less," Deanna went on. "I don't want to hear them. I don't want your advice or your bloody mantra about finding the right person."

Lwaxana remained silent as her daughter got her feelings off her chest.

"It's not like I wanted to marry Wyatt. And don't go thinking there was some last-minute throwing myself at Will Riker. I sent him away this morning," Deanna huffed.

Of course, with her telepathy, Lwaxana already knew this. In fact, she knew exactly how her daughter felt. But it was necessary for Deanna to work through it on her own.

"I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anybody's thoughts on this situation," Deanna announced. "I need time. So if you've come down here to lecture me about relationships, you'd best leave now."

The very last thing Deanna wanted was to listen to her mother's typical speech on the matter.

"I know getting married and having a child made you so happy," Deanna fumed. "But I don't know if that's what I want. Especially now. So if you're going to stay, we're doing what I want. And we're going to talk about what I want to discuss."

Deanna stopped and put her hands on her hips, eyeing her mother carefully.

"Is that clear, mother?" Deanna asked.

"Deanna, I'm not here to lecture you," she assured her daughter.

She pulled Deanna into a warm embrace.

"I am so proud of you," Lwaxana said.

Deanna was dumbstruck. This was the very last thing she had expected from her mother.

Lwaxana released her daughter and stepped back. Resting her hands on her shoulders, she leaned in close and smiled.

"I don't want you to feel pressured. I know that I'm a stubborn woman. But I would never push you into anything that made you unhappy," Lwaxana promised.

Deanna relaxed a little.

"I came down here because I don't want you to be alone today. Of course we'll do whatever you want to do," Lwaxana explained.

"Mother," Deanna began to apologise.

She had been so caught up in her own feelings that she had completely misread her mother's intentions.

Lwaxana gripped Deanna's chin, silencing her.

"Ah! I'm going to ask you a question in a moment, and I want you to be honest," Lwaxana explained. "So before I do, I want you to promise me that you'll tell me the truth."

Deanna's brow furrowed.

She was dreading that her mother was going to ask her feelings on Will Riker.

"You're an empath. And that means you have to protect yourself. You give so much of yourself to others. I just don't want you to give yourself so completely to someone that you fail to find your own happiness," Lwaxana shared. "So, will you answer me honestly?"

"Yes," Deanna said.

There was no point in dodging the issue.

"What do you want to do today for yourself?" Lwaxana asked casually.

---

Data and Tasha were spending the morning packing for their camping trip.

Even before their relationship had begun, both Data and Tasha shared a love of the outdoors. Data was fascinated by living things and found himself drawn to nature in all forms.

During some of his early assignments with the exobiology team on the Trieste, Data had been part of numerous expeditions. He'd hiked the canyons of Hrignon IV, traversed the Istacan plains, and spent more than a few weeks camping in the savannah on Juirqi Prime studying an elephant-like creature.

Having grown up a nomad, Tasha was used to being outside.

During her time at Starfleet Academy, Tasha had found the trails and campaign spots in California to be a nice retreat. It was a way to reclaim a sense of self and connect with the outdoors in a whole new light.

Big Sur was pristine. She could kick back and lay out under the stars without having to keep her ears open for Turkanan jaguars that stalked the treeline.

Tasha had been looking forward to this trip with Data for quite some time.

They were seated together on the floor of her quarters as they divvied out their gear.

"Heads up," Tasha said.

She tossed Data the emergency transmitter and he caught it with ease.

"Do you have room in your pack for this?" Data asked.

Tasha looked up and paused.

"What's that for?" she asked.

He was holding an extra power pack that they could use to charge their PADDs.

"I assumed you would want to keep your tablet charged," Data said.

"I'm leaving it here," Tasha replied.

Data looked confused.

"Data, we're going to have plenty to do," Tasha assured him.

"Are you certain you can go for a few days without your books?" Data asked.

Tasha laughed and shook her head.

"Data, we're going to be hiking and swimming, cooking pineapple on the fire," Tasha said.

Data made a mental note to remember to pick up the pineapple from Guinan.

"You and me alone in the wilderness," Tasha said as she crawled over to him. "Under a blanket of stars with nothing but time."

She captured his lips in a slow, tender kiss.

There was plenty of packing to get to yet, but Data wasn't complaining. He keened and let Tasha guide him back to the floor.

Data's hands crept up the back of her legs until he found his favourite resting spot. He cupped her backside and Tasha grinned against his mouth.

They were about to get an early start on their campfire when they were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Go," Data said.

He pulled Tasha down for one more kiss before they broke apart.

"Go," Data insisted.

---

Since Tasha was off with Deanna, Data decided to head down to his quarters.

They had both agreed they wanted to pack for their trip together. Therefore, things were going to be on pause until Tasha returned.

When he reached his own quarters, Data set down at his workstation. He queued up one of his favourite music programmes and set to work reviewing all the recent Starfleet scientific bulletins that had been posted in the last three days.

Typically Data kept up with all of the scientific, medical, security, and tech bulletins that were issued. But with recent events, he was a few days behind.

An afternoon off would give him the opportunity to catch up before their trip began. That would also mean less work upon his return.

Data theoretically could speed through these reports, absorbing the information at a rate faster than any humanoid. But he enjoyed the sensation of reading best when he could take his time, digest the information, and cross-reference with other reports and theories.

Data sat back in his chair and scanned through the most recent slew of reports.

A research team from the USS Venture had completed a survey mission of the Massier system. The recent diplomatic mission by the newly commissioned USS Jameson to Plequlos IX had been a success and they were on track to become a Federation member state in the next year.

Starfleet was monitoring an outbreak of Dutaray Haemorrhagic Fever on the Itasan colony. And the discovery of a new aerating root plant hybrid had shown promising results for burn treatment.

Data marked that one for later as he was certain Keiko would find such an article intriguing.

He paused as another report piqued his interest. Starfleet's scale-down along the Neutral Zone was continuing as planned. Vulcan Ambassador T'Pel believed that within a year such efforts would prompt a Romulan response and the possibility of opening formal relations.

While Data was pleased with the prospect of peace between the Romulan Star Empire and the Federation, he remained sceptical about the massive withdrawal of personnel along the Neutral Zone.

He shared Tasha's concerns that such a move left Federation territories vulnerable along the border.

However, if Federation news was to be believed, then peace was on the horizon.

Data was pulled from his personal musings by the sound of his door chime.

"Enter," he called out.

Commander Riker stepped inside.

"Commander," Data said, surprised by his appearance. "Is there a situation that requires my attention?"

Riker shook his head.

"Do you need assistance with something, sir?" Data asked.

"No," Riker replied simply.

Commander Riker casually flicked the end of one Data's small metal sculpture pieces that sat on the end table, spinning the device and to watch it swirl.

"Sir?" Data prompted.

Riker quickly retracted his hand.

"Sorry," he apologised.

Riker had obviously come for a reason, but he was struggling to verbalise his request.

"Data, I need your help," Riker confessed.

Data raised his eyebrows as he wordlessly indicated for Commander Riker to continue.

"We're friends right?" Riker asked.

"I consider you my friend, sir. And I hope that you think of me in the same manner," Data replied.

"Of course I do, Data!" Riker insisted.

He threw his leg over the chair and sat down on the opposite side of the workstation.

"Data, you're the only person I can trust to be completely honest with me," Riker said. "You're the only friend I can trust to offer me the truth free of bias and without the fear of hurting my feelings."

Data's brow furrowed.

"In the time that you've known me, all the hours we've spent together, I want you to give me an honest assessment of my character. What negative traits do I exhibit?" Riker asked. "I know I can come across as cocky. I just-"

He paused and ran a shaky hand back through his hair.

For all his airs of being the cool, collected First Officer that didn't take himself too seriously, Will Riker actually tried incredibly hard to cultivate that image.

He had spent much of his youth in the shadow of his father. He had no siblings and was often ridiculed as a child for his bulky size, love of cooking, and easy-going attitude.

It wasn't until the Academy that he really came into his own. Meeting Deanna had helped Will to find the confidence to own both his size and his sexuality.

He had blossomed later than most – but when he did, Will Riker had experienced one helluva a glow-up.

"Sir, if you have come seeking advice regarding your relationship with Counsellor Troi may I point out that I am far from qualified to-" Data began to say.

Riker put his hand up.

"No, Data. You're exactly the person I need to speak with," Riker insisted.

His conversation with Deanna had got Will thinking.

What if they weren't meant to be?

Their arrangement was comfortable. For the last two years it had fulfilled both their needs – at least, Will had thought so.

He adored Deanna – but he couldn't shake the fact that she wasn't the only person he loved.

He still thought about Minuet. She had a special place in his heart, one that Will knew could never be replaced.

Despite the strange and brief nature of their relationship, Will knew he would carry a torch for her for the rest of his days.

It didn't detract from his relationship with Deanna. However, the feelings were just as strong – albeit, in a different way.

After Deanna had made clear that she needed time to figure things out, Riker decided to do some thinking of his own.

For the last decade, William T. Riker had one goal and one goal only – his own command.

Between reuniting with Deanna and serving on the Enterprise, Riker wasn't sure the goal was so solitary or immediate anymore.

He had the best job in the world and was serving with a fine crew.

Jean-Luc Picard was a phenomenal commanding officer.

In the last two and half years, Will had seen and done more than most of his previous assignments. There was nowhere else in the world where he would have the pleasure of serving with and learning from people like Data, Geordi, and Worf.

The Enterprise felt like home and Will wasn't ready to give that up for his own command.

But if things with Deanna were going to end, Will wasn't sure he could stick around. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable or get stuck in some kind of on-again, off-again situation.

"Data, I have to know. What is the probability that Counsellor Troi and I end up together?" Riker demanded.

Data hesitated. His look of discomfort only furthered Will's suspicion that Data was about to deliver bad news.

"Sir, I am capable of processing trillions of calculations per second. That is not clairvoyance," Data reminded Riker.

"Data, please," Riker begged. "I know that you did it for Miles and Keiko. And Geordi and Sonya."

It was evident Commander Riker was struggling and Data had no wish to further his concerns. However, Data recognised that providing such information would likely do little to assuage his fears.

"Commander, that was merely an assessment of compatibility. It is not the foundation on which one should judge the merits of a relationship," Data cautioned.

"Data," Riker pleaded.

Data realised he wasn't going to be able to talk Riker down.

"Fifty-one-point eight percent," Data said.

Riker's face fell.

Fifty-one-point eight percent.

Is that all? Riker thought.

He felt shattered.

"Sir, may I reiterate that this number is merely based on an algorithm I developed to analyse humanoid behaviour. It does not determine the probability of success," Data stated.

Riker was only half listening.

"Commander Riker," Data repeated for the second time.

Riker startled, blinking a few times as he came back to reality.

Data felt compelled to intervene.

"Commander Riker, may I share something with you? Something personal that I request stay between us?" Data asked.

He had no desire to betray Tasha's privacy. In fact, Data had never shared this information with Tasha. But given the circumstances, Data believed such an act was justified.

"I developed this compatibility algorithm after I found myself captivated by Lieutenant Yar," Data explained. "And I was dismayed when the results showed we had thirty-four-point seven percent compatibility."

Data cocked his head to the side.

"Even I miscalculate," Data assured him.

---

Over on the holodeck, Deanna was enjoying the delights offered by the Zakzan Spa on Betazed.

She laid back and allowed a handsome young Orion man to work on her nails.

"What is this?" Tasha asked, pulling away as a scandalously clad Klingon attempted to put something on her face.

"Mmm, whatever it is, it feels wonderful," Beverly said.

She was sipping on a tall frozen uttaberry sangria. Beverly was perfectly content as a team of beefy men tended to her pedicure, massaged her shoulders, and painted her fingernails.

"It's a treatment infused with clay and tea tree oil," Lwaxana said. "Your skin will thank you later. And I promise you'll enjoy it almost as much as you'll enjoy Ertok here applying it."

Tasha blushed furiously.

It had been embarrassing enough when they had been introduced to their holographic spa attendants. The Zakzan Spa was a real place. This holodeck programme was simply a recreation of that famed spa.

Only, this one featured a few upgrades courtesy of one highly talented Betazoid engineer.

It was programmed to offer the user the ultimate experience – right down to customised attendants designed to 'Tantalise the senses' and 'fulfil your wildest fantasies' or some other mumbo-jumbo Lwaxana had explained.

Tasha had only been partially paying attention.

She was in awe of the facility. From the moment they had stepped inside, there was an overwhelmingly powerful sense of ease. The whole place was full of large, natural light and soft furnishings.

It even smelled relaxing.

According to Lwaxana, this spa featured a specialised environmental control system that was capable of interacting with the pleasure centre of the brain.

"This is some programme," Guinan remarked.

"I never leave home without it," Lwaxana said.

Deanna was, for the moment, enjoying herself. When she was young, she had gone to this very spa with her mother.

It was a place that was special for just the two of them. Deanna had never taken Will Riker to this spa. It felt nice to share this location and part of herself with her friends now.

The face mask and the wine allowed Deanna to clear her mind and focus just on the present.

Everyone had assured her they were ready to listen should she wish to discuss the situation with Wyatt. However, Deanna was rather keen to talk about other subjects.

So Lwaxana had laid a series of ground rules and was doing a fine job of moderating the conversation. Whenever she sensed Deanna grow anxious or sad, Lwaxana was quick to shift in a different direction.

Guinan had shared the news that she would be participating in an interplanetary poker tournament on Risa in a few weeks.

Beverly sat up and pulled the compress off her eyes.

"The Annual Risian Poker Championship?" Beverly exclaimed.

"Uh huh," Guinan nodded.

Beverly blinked in disbelief.

"How? When did you even find the time?" Beverly asked.

"Oh I'm not much interested in the tournament," Guinan confessed. "But after Yves Olafsson had to pull out they were desperate for another player. As a legacy winner I was asked to step in."

"You mean you've played before?" Tasha asked.

"Grand champion. 2302," Guinan shared.

Tasha couldn't help but smile. While she had quickly become a beloved member of the crew, Guinan had kept a certain mystery about herself.

There were so many things they didn't know about her and her incredible life.

"I only accepted because I really want to go see my grandson and it will give me something to do while he's working," Guinan explained.

Only Guinan would view the most competitive poker tournament in the quadrant as nothing more than a way to kill time during the day like she was some little old woman at a casino pulling the slots for fun.

"Well I can't go back to Coral beach," Guinan said with a shrug. "I got thrown out of there on my 131st birthday."

---

Across the ship, Data had decided it would be a good idea to engage Commander Riker in an activity to occupy his mind.

Riker had wanted to return to work and help oversee the water transfer, but Captain Picard had expressly forbidden it.

So Data had suggested a trip to the holodeck. Miles, Geordi, and Worf were all free and had decided to join for the afternoon.

It would be a nice way to wind down before heading down to Haven.

"How about a campfire? A little fishing?" Geordi suggested.

He knew Commander Riker enjoyed those activities.

To his surprise, Riker quashed the idea.

"Nah, I'm going to be alone on the beach for the next few days. I want to do something fun. Socialise," Riker said.

"Oooo!" Miles said, snapping his fingers triumphantly. "Lieutenant Barclay's got a new programme. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid."

Data cocked his head to the side and frowned.

"Butch Cassidy died in a shootout after being cornered by the Bolivian army. I fail to see how such a programme would be amusing," Data confessed.

"There is nothing more honourable than a last stand," Worf said with a hint of approval. "However, personally I would prefer something less involved."

"Hang on, I've got it," Riker said as he tapped the LCARS screen.

He grinned and pressed to engage the programme.

"Got room for one more?" Wesley asked as he approached the group.

Word had gotten round that Commander Riker wasn't feeling too hot and Wes wanted to see if he could help.

"Promise not to tell your mother?" Riker asked.

Wes put his hand up.

"Acting Ensign Crusher reporting for duty," Wes replied.

The doors to the holodeck slid open.

"Whoa," Miles said, astonished.

"Gentlemen, welcome to the Brauhaus Ansbach," Riker said.

They stepped inside to a cosy room full of people. In the corner there was a lively polka band. The wood panel walls were filled with mounted antlers, embroidered wall art, Bavarian flags, and authentic beer steins.

There was a loft above supported by great wooden pillars. The minute they stepped inside, everyone upstairs cheered and raised a glass to the new arrivals.

"Darts!" Miles said.

He grabbed Geordi and they made a beeline for the dartboard in the corner. Data was fascinated by all of the activity around him.

"Vilhelm!" a woman said as she perked up and raced over to them.

"Mr Worf, allow me to introduce you to Helene," Riker said. "You know they do arm wrestling up there."

Riker motioned with his head to the balcony above.

"The balcony seems a bit crowded," Worf responded without tearing his eyes away from the top of Helene's dirndl.

Riker laughed and slapped Worf on the back.

"Let's get a round of beer," Riker suggested.

---

Next door to the rousing brewery, the ladies were living it up at the spa.

They had moved from the salon portion to an outdoor table where they could dangle their feet in the waters of a warm, soothing spring.

"You have to try the plomleek zoodles," Lwaxana said.

She lifted her empty glass as one of the waiters strolled past.

"I'll take another one of these and another round of shots please," Lwaxana ordered.

Tasha and Beverly exchanged a look.

"I don't have to hike in the morning," Beverly grinned wickedly.

Tasha knew she was going to regret drinking, but it was hard to say no when Lwaxana was around. Deanna needed to get away from it all. She wanted a fun day with her girlfriends.

Tasha would have the next few days with Data. Deanna would have to spend the next few days alone.

Deciding it was for the greater good, Tasha took hold of her shot glass and joined the others in a toast.

"To life," Lwaxana declared.

She spied an attractive waiter passing their table.

"And all the things that give it zest," she said as her eyeline followed him.

Deanna chuckled and shook her head.

"So what's next after dinner?" Beverly asked.

She had an eager twinkle in her eye that spoke of mischief as the alcohol began to take effect.

"There's the steam rocks over on the other end. Or we could get seaweed wraps," Lwaxana said. "And if you're looking for a massage, Bruno's hands are divine."

Tasha chortled on her seafood salad. Lwaxana was so cool and comfortable with herself it never ceased to amaze her.

"What would you like to do, Deanna?" Guinan inquired.

This day was for Deanna, and she wanted to be sure that Deanna got what she needed out of the experience.

"Let's head to the whirlpool. And let's reset the programme for twilight. I always liked the lights there," Deanna said.

---

Over at the brewery the guys were holding their own in a drinking contest – aided by the fact Data had no gag reflex and could consume vast amounts of liquid.

He had aced the bierstiefel – downing an entire glass boot without assistance much to the stunned crowd's excitement.

"Saufen! Saufen! Saufen!" the crowd chanted.

Data felt incredible. His neural net surged with an unusual sense of delight as he listened to the encouragement from the crowd.

He had never once been the centre of attention at a part.

Is this ego? He pondered.

As he reached the appropriate spot, Data turned the boot so as to avoid a bubble and continued chugging the contents.

"Ah hah hah!" Miles cheered.

Worf roared triumphantly.

"Whooo eee!" Geordi shouted as he pumped his fist.

Will Riker was beaming. This was his team, and these were his dearest friends. The sense of camaraderie they shared was irreplaceable. Even if things didn't work out with Deanna, Will knew he couldn't leave this behind.

Intended or not, things were starting to get rowdy.

The owner of this establishment was a portly with a moustache named Wernher. He stepped over to Data and guided him up to his feet.

He lifted Data's arm in the air.

"Laast euch nicht lumpen, hoch mit dem Humpen!" Wernher announced.

The crowd erupted in a cheer.

"It's a wonder he can't get toasty," Miles said in amazement.

"A shame really," Geordi remarked.

"Though if I do say so myself, this German beer hasn't done shite for me," Miles said.

He glanced down at his pint and studied it for a few moments before taking another swig.

The matter replicators that produced materials on the holodeck were capable of producing synthehol or real alcohol.

Worf had a far better sense of smell than the human officers. He sniffed at his glass.

"I believe this is synthehol," Worf advised.

"Then who got our pitcher?" Miles asked as he glanced around the room.

It seemed a shame to waste real beer on a hologram.

A loud belch from the left caught Will's attention.

"Prost!" Wesley said, swaying as he lifted his glass.

A second belch soon followed. Wesley's eyes went wide.

"Es'cuse me," Wes said quickly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

Will burst out laughing. He gave Wes a stern pat on the back. Wes nearly fell off his chair from the impact.

Helene came off the stage with her accordion and approached Data. She was curious if he knew how to schuhplattler.

"Schuhplattler?" Data inquired. "Accessing."

He cocked his head to the side as he tapped into his language programme.

"Dance," Helene clarified.

"Dance?" Data asked.

---

In spite of his protest that Klingons didn't dance, Worf had been more than happy to join the schuhplattler after seeing it.

It wasn't all that different than the Klingon art of K'ugrach'uuk – a ritual dance performed after battle to celebrate the glory of victory.

Part dance, part choreographed horseplay, the guys were having fun getting into it.

As the band played on, they stomped, clapped, and slapped their way around the room.

Riker regretted not changing into lederhosen prior to the start. He'd spent a semester of his time at the Academy studying out of Starfleet's diplomatic hub in Munich.

It was where he had first discovered this brewery and where he had fallen in love with the people there.

There was nothing like a giant pretzel and some good beer to put him in the right frame of mind.

Worf got a bit carried away and accidently bumped into a nearby holographic dancer.

"You pushed me!" the man said, irate.

"My apologies. It was an accident," Worf said in response.

Will forgot that he'd turned on the interactive settings designed to predict behaviour.

"Vell don't let it happen again!" the man fumed.

Worf nodded and thanked the hologram for his kindness.

Unfortunately, this was all for naught.

Swerving slightly, Wesley tripped the same man. The man fell backwards into a nearby table and the entire pub fell silent.

"S-hic-sorry," Wes said.

He hiccupped again.

"You did zat on purpose!" the man huffed.

Two nearby patrons helped him to his feet. The man dusted himself off and took a step toward Wesley. He towered over him, shaking his fist in a menacing manner.

"I'm really hic sorry, Mister," Wes said.

As three men descended on Wes, Worf put himself between them and the young acting Ensign.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Worf asked.

For Will it was like watching the scene unfold in slow motion.

The tallest of the three men attempted to shove Worf.

He didn't budge.

The three men jumped on Worf, tackling him to the ground. The patrons at the surrounding tables scrambled for safety.

Data stepped in and pulled one of the men off Worf. When that same man tried to instigate a fight with Data, he simply hoisted him off the ground.

"Very unwise," Data said.

Data shook his head in disapproval as the man's feet flailed. He continued to try and bat at the powerful android.

Data casually tossed him into a nearby table.

"Kneipenschlägerei!" a woman shouted.

---

Fifteen minutes later the men stumbled out of the holodeck – escaping just in time as a large woman hurled a chair at the door. It dematerialised as soon as it hit the arch.

Will Riker fell back against the wall in a fit of laughter.

"You still owe me the next transporter coil maintenance cycle," Miles reminded Geordi.

"The game was a draw!" Geordi countered.

"Only because he didn't see my last shot since that woman threw a glass at the board," Miles replied.

Worf pulled Data into his arm and ruffled his hair.

"We have survived battle together, Commander. We are now IoDnl'pu'!" Worf declared.

Data accessed his knowledge base of Klingon phrases.

Brothers in blood.

Data's eyes lit up.

"Commander, I'm not feeling all that great," Wesley announced.

He was still recovering from the radiation sickness from his experience on Aldea. He hadn't meant to consume any real alcohol – and he hadn't even had that much – but it had made him feel more than a little disoriented.

"C'mon, I've got just the thing for you," Riker said.

With Data's help, they hoisted Wes up and carried him off to Commander Riker's rooms.

---

Deanna closed her eyes and rested her head back against the rocks of the whirlpool. It was only late afternoon, but they had reset the holodeck programme to replicate twilight.

Deanna had always found the afterglow of the soft sunset on Betazed to be soothing – especially at this spa. There were lights in the whirlpool that gave off a relaxing, cool blue illumination that set her at ease.

Beverly was on her fourth jumbo uttaberry sangria and showed no signs of stopping.

Why don't we play a game?" Beverly suggested.

"Oooo! I like that," Guinan chimed in.

"Sure," Deanna agreed.

"What about the Stone Circle?" Lwaxana suggested.

"You know that game?" Beverly asked in astonishment.

Lwaxana chuckled.

"I've played a round or two in my day," Lwaxana responded.

"Don't think you invented it. It's been around for ages," Guinan teased.

While the rest of the gang was keen to play this rousing party game, Tasha's mouth went dry. Stone Circle was a staple party game at the Academy.

Players would take turns. The first step was to roll a set of dice. One indicated whether the question was for the individual, the group, or if the player got to pick another person to answer. The second indicated which symbol they would draw.

Depending on the roll of dice, the player would then select the corresponding symbol from stone pieces in a centre ring. The stone piece would then reveal a question.

Some were fun – most were embarrassing.

The thrill of dishing such personal information as a form of bonding was a strange human custom. Awkward situations, fumbling romantic firsts, and juicy memories were all fair game.

It was a Betazoid game by design and thus had the ability to tap into questions that were relevant to the players.

Critically, the stones had the ability to glow green for the truth and red if a player was dishonest.

While most people left feeling little more than mild embarrassment, Tasha had been horrified by the game.

She had dreaded parties and social functions as this game always, inevitably, made an appearance.

Tasha had played it once, quitting after the third question when her fellow cadets had grown frustrated by her continued refusal to answer truthfully.

Tasha's lies weren't an attempt to maliciously deceive her classmates – she was desperately trying to fit in.

A casual Friday night in the dorms – in the middle of stories reminiscing 'he was so nervous' or 'I couldn't stop giggling' wasn't the place to drop 'I was eight and hungry.'

At fifteen, the fresh-faced young cadet Tasha Yar had seen more than her share of horrors that her fellow cadets couldn't begin to fathom.

Tasha had been so caught up in her own memories that she hadn't realised the game had already begun.

"T?" Beverly prompted.

"What?" Tasha asked as she scanned the faces around the whirlpool.

"Are you alright?" Guinan asked.

"The question is for everyone. Have you ever played hookie?" Deanna asked.

"No," Tasha replied, shaking her head.

Beverly made a face.

To everyone's surprise, the stone glowed green indicating that Tasha had been honest.

Tasha relaxed a bit. If these were the types of questions they were going to stick to, then Tasha felt confident this wouldn't be a problem.

These were some of her closest friends. Tasha reasoned they knew enough to stay away from personal matters.

On her turn, Tasha tentatively picked up the dice and rolled them.

For a second, she froze.

She would have to answer a question alone.

Doing her best to keep her hand steady, Tasha reached for a stone chip.

What is the worst thing you ever ate?

She visibly relaxed.

Tasha laughed out loud, relieved that her fears had been overblown.

---

"Check," Geordi said, knocking the table.

The guys were sitting around Riker's table playing a casual game of poker.

Wesley Crusher was snoring a few metres away, sleeping off the outcome of their holodeck adventure. As everyone had argued about the best way to treat his intoxication, Wes had simply passed out on the sofa.

The guys would be sure to get Wesley back home safe later that night. Beverly was still on the holodeck, and they didn't want to leave him unattended.

In the meantime, they were content to play a few rounds of cards.

"Well I'm out," Miles said as he folded.

He laid his cards down on the table and relaxed back in his chair.

"Gotta save some latinum for the cruise," he explained. "We're planning to go to the casino on board."

"You two are going to love it," Riker commented.

He'd taken a similar cruise on Casperia Prime several years prior.

"I hope so. I'm not much into shuffleboard," Miles confessed.

"Ah!" Riker said, waving him off. "There's loads to do."

Between the dancing, games, and swimming, there were far more activities than just shuffleboard.

Miles smirked as Riker described all of the activities. He leaned in close over the table.

"Between just us guys, I contacted the place after Keiko made the booking. Upgraded our accommodations. She's in for one helluva surprise," Miles shared.

"Miles O'Brien you sly romantic," Riker said in approval.

Miles shrugged casually. He was quite proud of himself for that trick.

"What about you Geordi? Anything special planned?" Riker inquired.

He may have had his own romantic plans side-lined, but Will took comfort in hearing about what his friends would be up to. It made him feel better inside to know there was still love in the universe.

And if Will's friends were happy, then so was he.

"There's a village north of the capital. It's home to these endangered turtles. Our visit coincides with their hatching. And they need dozens of volunteers to help get them safely to the water," Geordi explained. "So, Sonya and I are going out at midnight to uh, well to help."

"Geordi La Forge, father of turtles," Riker grinned.

"We're just taking things easy, you know?" Geordi replied.

He really liked Sonya and she felt the same way about him. But Geordi had been burned too many times before. He wanted to proceed with caution.

This trip would be the first time they were going somewhere 'together.' While they would have separate accommodations – across town in fact – they weren't going with anyone else.

"I think that sounds wise," Riker replied.

He turned his attention to Data.

"What about you? Anything special planned?" Riker asked.

"Not particularly," Data answered honestly. "We are going camping. Both Lieutenant Yar and I have been looking forward to this opportunity."

This wasn't some grand romantic trip. And that was just the way Tasha and Data wanted it – understated, much like their relationship.

"You know we haven't heard what you're planning to do Worf," Riker mentioned.

Worf shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He had kept his plans close to his chest.

Commander Riker assumed this silence meant Worf had no plans.

"No sense in being alone, you can join me!" Riker suggested.

"Thank you, sir," Worf said. "But I would rather not go to the beach."

"You would be welcome to join our camping trip," Data offered. "I am certain that Lieutenant Yar would welcome your presence for the duration of-"

"No," Worf interjected. "Thank you, sir."

He had no wish to be the third wheel.

"You can't sit around all leave by yourself!" Miles insisted.

"I appreciate your concern, but I will be fine," Worf said.

His voice was starting to grow testy.

"Awww, Worf. We just don't want you to be alone," Geordi explained.

"I have plans," Worf contended.

No one looked convinced.

Worf muttered something indecipherable under his breath.

"What was that?" Riker asked.

"I have tickets to see Aktuh and Meylota," Worf confessed. "The Klingon Dramatic Academy is touring and happens to be on Haven this month."

It would be the chance of a lifetime to see what was regarded as perhaps the best Klingon opera of the last century performed by the best of the best.

"The only time I have seen it performed live was in San Francisco," Worf said. "While I am certain the cast were adequate for humans, I found their interpretation…lacking."

---

"And then I stumbled out of the shuttle in front of everyone," Beverly recounted. "And he was standing right there!"

She shook her head, laughing as she recalled the first time she had met Captain Ross – her first commanding officer.

"And he said, 'this can't possibly be the dancing doctor' because I could barely keep my footing," Beverly informed them.

"You win," Deanna said, raising her glass to Beverly.

They had been sharing stories of meeting their CO for the first time.

"Alright," Deanna said.

She leaned forward and took the dice.

"Everybody," Lwaxana said slowly.

The first roll indicated this was a question everyone would be asked to answer. The second one landed on a star-like symbol.

Deanna reached for a chip and then laughed.

"Ugh," she said, feeling slightly amused. "This couldn't have been better timing."

She turned it over to show the rest of the ladies.

"Do you want to have children?" Lwaxana asked, confused as to why this was so amusing to the rest of the players.

"It's a long story," Tasha said.

"Well, Little One?" Lwaxana asked.

Deanna shrugged.

"Maybe. Someday," Deanna said as she passed the chip to Beverly.

"It took us years to get pregnant with Wes. One was enough," Beverly said.

"One? Thirty-seven was enough for me. Thirty-eight was the bonus," Guinan quipped. "Though my mother was a little disappointed. She'd been hoping for a nice round forty-eight."

Tasha suppressed a grin. Beverly raised her glass to toast Guinan.

Deanna simply shook her head – it was hard to tell if Guinan was being serious or simply trying to make her feel better.

"Then may we all be as fertile as our mothers," Lwaxana said as she passed the chip to Tasha.

Tasha froze, staring at the chip.

Immediately, Deanna recognised there was something wrong.

"You know, let's play a different game," Deanna suggested.

"No, it's fine," Tasha said quickly. "Sorry, I think I've just had too much to drink and the warm water and all I'm uh-"

She trailed off and took a series of deep breaths.

"I'm just going to get out for a few minutes and cool off," Tasha said.

She excused herself and got up out of the whirlpool. Tasha made a beeline for the arch. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

Her pace quickened as the arch came into view.

From the moment she set foot in the corridor, Tasha felt a sense of relief. She headed for the nearest canteen.

Fortunately, it was abandoned. With most people preparing to leave for Haven, the vast majority of the crew was in their quarters packing.

Tasha ordered a cold compress and a large ginger whisky from the replicator.

She took a sip of the bubbly liquid, closing her eyes to savour the taste. Next, she applied the compress to the back of her neck.

Tasha turned around. When she opened her eyes, she found herself face-to-face with the other four women.

"Come now, there are no secrets tonight," Lwaxana said.

---

Tasha had politely declined to return to the holodeck.

She had made her apologies to Deanna. As much as she wanted to be there for her friend, Lwaxana's comment had struck a nerve.

Tasha recognised that hanging around the holodeck would only bring down the mood.

After making her apologies to the others, Tasha had slipped away to her own quarters.

When she arrived, she found all the lights were out save for a small lamp where Data was reading at the desk.

Upon hearing the door, Data turned and was surprised.

He glanced down at all the camping gear that was still spread out across the floor.

"I am sorry I have not completed packing yet. I did not anticipate you would return so early," Data said as he lifted his eyes.

Commander Riker had agreed to look after Wes. After a few hands of poker, the gents had mutually decided to call it an evening. Miles and Geordi both had to leave early to catch transports to their respective destinations.

Data had figured he could finish reading before Tasha returned.

"It's alright, I wanted to do it together anyways," Tasha reminded him.

She took a quick shower and hung her swimwear up to dry. After slipping into a comfy pair of sleep shorts and a loose tee, Tasha joined Data on the floor to continue packing.

As they loaded their ration packs, camp stove, torch, and emergency med kit, Tasha said little.

She appeared to be lost in thought – a fact that did not go unnoticed by Data.

"Tasha, is there something wrong?" Data asked.

"No," Tasha lied, plastering on a sweet smile to really sell it.

Concluding Tasha was most likely tired from a long afternoon on the holodeck, Data let it go.

---

Haven was an understatement.

From the moment they stepped off the transport, Data and Tasha were met with perfect camping weather. The air temperature was relatively cool and meant that they had an easy hike.

Data had used his pull as an exobiologist to get them into a part of the nature reserve that was protected. This meant Data and Tasha would have to follow level one exobiology off-world precautions to minimise their impact.

Neither of them minded in the slightest.

It took them all day to reach their first campsite. It was nearly dark by the time they had arrived, but they made quick work of setting up a humble abode.

Tasha got the fire going and boiled some water for tea while Data set up the camp cot. It set approximately half a metre off the ground and would keep them dry and warm.

Technically, it was designed to sleep one with extra room for storing rations, a pack, or other equipment on the surface. But Data and Tasha had measured and tested. With a bit of snuggling they could both easily fit.

They hadn't brought a proper tent. It was just the two of them and the weather was expected to cooperate. They had a tarp they could use to shield from the sun or any possible rain, but they were planning to sleep under the stars.

As the settled in with their ration packs, Tasha relished in putting her feet up.

They had completed just shy of twenty-two kilometres that day. Fortunately, the following day was set to be an easy hike.

"Would you like tomato and rice or hotch potch?" Tasha asked.

She held up two thermal canisters as Data poured the boiling water into them. Soup was one of the easiest dry rations to carry. It was predominantly what they had packed for the trip along with plenty of protein bars and snacks.

"Tomato please," Data said after sniffing both options.

They curled up in front of the fire and ate in silence.

Once they were finished, Data set their canisters aside. Tasha looped her arm through Data's and rested her head on his shoulder.

In the distance, a herd of elk wandered past. They stopped long enough to graze before moving on.

Data inhaled deeply, savouring the blend of aromas from the campfire, the fresh grass, and the faint scent of saltwater. They were hiking up the coast.

Though the sea was close to half a kilometre away, Data's olfactory receptors could distinguish the smell as the wind was blowing off the surface of the water.

"I am very glad we came," Data confessed.

Tasha responded wordlessly as she snuggled against his shoulder.

---

The second day had been one of those rare, easy days where everything seemed to go right.

It had been a wee bit chilly overnight, and they had awoken to find their campsite covered in a light dew.

Tasha offered to make breakfast so that Data could sketch some still life images of the dew on the flowers.

The second part of their journey took them through a valley. They had spotted the herd of elk again. Data was certain it was the same one. Tasha took his word for it.

The entire area was filled with lush grass, spotted with occasional bits of low, flowering shrubs. They featured the most vibrant hues of yellow, orange, and pink.

Data knew the name of every plant they encountered, advising Tasha of each species and their various uses. She helped him to collect some samples for Keiko.

Data and Tasha stopped for lunch and a short reprieve along a shallow, fast-moving creek. The water was cold.

Data had watched with fascination as Tasha kicked her boots aside. She peeled off her socks and shivered as she sank her feet into the water.

"Tasha, may I ask the purpose for such an act of displeasure?" Data inquired. "Do not most humans find cold water unpleasant?"

"Mmmm, feels good on my feet," Tasha explained.

She closed her eyes and relaxed, allowing nature to numb the sore, swollen soles of her feet.

A few seconds later, Tasha heard a sharp intake of breath.

She glanced over to find Data sitting next to her.

"Chilling though invigorating," Data said as he attempted to describe the sensation.

---

They had spent considerably more time than they had originally allotted observing the endangered snails.

In the year since Data's previous mission, the snail colony had thrived. Once a primary component of cosmetics, the protection these snails now received had allowed the colony to more than double.

They weren't back up to their once historic numbers, but they were on the right path.

Tasha hadn't been expecting to find them so cute.

She'd envisioned something dull and slimy. But the snails had proven to be anything but. They had small shells with white and brown speckled patterns. Almost like snowflakes, they all had different patterns.

Data knew this intimately – he had catalogued over three-hundred unique shell designs during his first trip to the area.

As Tasha helped Data make observations on the colony's progress, she recognised something familiar about this pattern.

"Data?" she inquired.

"Hmm?" he asked without looking up from his PADD.

"Is that what that painting near your workstation is based on?" Tasha asked.

Data looked up from his tablet.

"Yes," he replied.

"I'll never look at it the same way again," Tasha remarked.

Data frowned.

"Does that bother you?" he asked.

Tasha smiled.

"No, not at all. I think it's kinda sweet," Tasha answered.

---

As a result of spending the better part of the day tracking snails, Data and Tasha once again found themselves setting up camp just before dusk.

They were further inland than they had been the night before, though had only travelled a fraction of the distance compared to the previous day.

For the second night, their encampment was at the edge of a dense, forested area.

As darkness fell, Tasha was astounded to find the woods seemed to glow.

"Seointeach," she gasped softly.

"Panhaltous nidiformus," Data simultaneously.

"What?" they both asked aloud.

"You first," Tasha said.

"Panhaltous nidiformus," Data repeated. "It is a species of fungi present in decaying wood. Luciferase is a type of oxidative enzyme therefore resulting in bioluminescence."

He paused and motioned with his arm across the expanse of the woods.

"This forest is quite ancient and is full of decaying wood. That is why it is known as Glowwood," Data advised.

Glowwood.

It was an apt name for such an enchanting place.

Using his limited knowledge of the Turkanan language, Data tried to break down her statement.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Tasha anticipated his question.

"Foxfire," Tasha translated. "It's a myth."

They readjusted so that Tasha could lie back in Data's arms.

"I suppose such a phenomenon would seem magical to the Turkanan people," Data remarked.

Tasha wasn't offended. It was an accurate assessment. From what little she had shared, Data had gathered enough information to know the people of Turkana were highly superstitious.

"It's said that you can touch it. They're wisps. And they can pass straight through you without burning," Tasha described. "Do you remember me telling you about the Turkanan deities Seridia and Azura?"

"Yes," Data replied.

"Well, they're the children of Glaebriar. She's sort of like a mother earth or Gaia figure," Tasha explained. "And she has these wisps. It's said they can see right through you, down to your soul."

During her time as a courier, Tasha had seen them frequently. As a young child, she'd found them comforting. As she grew, Tasha avoided them at all costs.

She felt like they had haunted her.

"It's said they can weigh your intentions. And if you heart is pure, they'll guide you to safety," Tasha explained.

"And if it is not?" Data inquired.

"Then those that follow who don't deserve to are never seen again," Tasha said before quickly adding. "It's all myth and legend."

Tasha trailed off as she was overcome with a memory.

The night she had fled into the cold, swampy woods with her siblings, Tasha had seen these wisps. She had followed them as they guided her ever deeper into the wilderness.

Even though they could hear the people that had pursued them calling out and searching for the children – they had never found them.

Trapped alone in the dark of the heart of the forest, those lights had been their only comfort. They had spent all night hiding out, listening to the screams of their pursuers as they were torn apart by the predators that stalked the swamps.

Even if Tasha didn't fully believe in a supernatural association, she credited them with keeping her safe.

Mostly. She thought with a sense of bitterness.

Luka hadn't done anything to deserve his fate. He had been three and drawn to the lights. Tasha had no capacity to care for so many children at once.

She had only been a child herself.

The forest had claimed him, and he never returned.

For a young Tasha Yar, this event had been a core memory. It made her begin to question the stories her grandmother had shared about their forbidden religion.

As she reflected on the loss of her brother, Tasha failed to realise the length of time that she'd been quiet.

"Tasha?" Data asked.

Tasha rolled over so that she could lay on Data's chest.

"Goodnight," she said as she hugged him tight.

---

"Are you warm enough?" Data inquired.

"Yeah," Tasha sniffled.

The truth was that the chill had penetrated straight through to her bones. She had been cold earlier. Now she was just numb.

Data had wanted to spend extra time observing the snail colony as a new generation was hatching. In an effort to make up for lost time, Data and Tasha had been rushing.

They only had two days left and they were due to meet up with Miles and Keiko for kayaking on the final day.

Tasha had been hoping to reach Blinder's Peak by tonight so that she could get a climb in tomorrow before they had to depart and turn north.

In their haste, they had pushed through the torrential rain that had started shortly before lunch only to discover the trailhead had washed out.

The path they needed to take crossed over what was typically a slow, low-level river. With the rain, the water level had risen and was moving too fast to safely traverse. It was too high for even Data to keep his footing.

They were stranded until the water level dropped.

At present, Data and Tasha were sitting on their camp cot under the tarp doing their best to stay dry. The rain had slowed enough that it was more of a constant drizzle at this point. They had a fire going, though it was smoky due to the precipitation.

It would likely be tomorrow at the earliest before they could cross. That meant they would have to skip the climb at Blinder's Peak in order to make it on time to meet Miles and Keiko.

Data felt horrible.

The soft, chilly drizzle only added to the glum mood under the tarp.

Tasha was sitting at the edge of the cot, poking the fire. She stirred the coals in an effort to expose more heat under the hanging kettle.

For the last twenty minutes she had been trying to get enough heat to boil water for some hot tea.

"I should not have been so selfish," Data confessed.

Tasha looked up and frowned.

"Had I not insisted on exceeding the allotted observation time at the snail colony, we would not be in this position," Data said. "I am afraid that my self-centred interest will come at the cost of your climb."

"Data, what are you talking about?" Tasha asked.

"I should not have put my own personal interests above your desires," Data went on.

"Stop," Tasha said as she reached up to cup his face.

He closed his eyes as she stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"Why would you say that?" Tasha asked.

Data hesitated to answer.

Her question forced him to confront the reason behind such a belief. It was such a deeply rooted part of his behaviour, ingrained in the very fibre of his construction.

In his research from the recovery file they had found on Omicron Theta, Data had learned that Doctor Soong had programmed him with a predilection to please humans.

However, such programming did not interfere or override his own free will.

But years of abuse and mental manipulation at the hands of Bruce Maddox had stripped away Data's sense of self.

It had taken years for him to reclaim his own being – body and mind.

In order to survive, Data had learned to adapt. Maddox had painfully conditioned Data into an existence that was dominated by obedience to Maddox and his team.

As a result, even after being freed Data had struggled to assert himself.

He put the needs of others ahead of his own for fear that pushback would result in any number of negative outcomes. At best, rejection. At worst, Data feared being returned to an objectified status.

Part of the reason Data had felt comfortable asking for extra time was the fact that he trusted Tasha implicitly.

But it didn't change the fact that he felt bad.

"You are important and so are the things you want to do," Tasha assured him.

"But you will miss your climb," Data protested.

"I came on this trip because I wanted to be with you," Tasha countered.

She took hold of his hands and brought them to her lips, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his fingers.

"Even if that means being stuck in the rain with cold camp rations," Tasha smiled. "I just want to be with you."

But instead of smiling, Data looked distressed.

He recognised Tasha was trying to lift his spirits and help him overcome his own internalised doubt. However, he couldn't shake the notion that he did not deserve such kindness.

After all, Data's time was theoretically unlimited. It did not matter if his own desires were met. He didn't have the same needs as humans.

He had an infinite number of tomorrows.

"Once again, I find myself struggling to rationalise your behaviour," Data admitted. "I am not deserving of such patience."

He paused and studied her expression.

"Why are you always so kind to me?" Data asked. "In the grand scheme of the universe, we will have such limited time that-"

"Because I love you. And that's not always rational," Tasha said, cutting him off.

Her eyes were beginning to water.

"You're far too good for this world, Data," Tasha said.

"How can I make this up to you?" Data inquired.

Tasha laughed softly.

"Promise me that the next time you feel this way, you remind yourself that you deserve to be happy and to do things simply because you want to," Tasha replied. "I want you to put yourself first. And not to feel guilty about it."

Tasha squeezed his hands.

"You deserve to be happy," Tasha said.

Data glanced down at his lap as he summoned the courage to broach a sensitive topic.

"I do not wish to frustrate you by raising this subject outside of our counselling sessions," Data began. "But this is why I am so insistent upon my desire to make a commitment to you."

Tasha's posture stiffened.

"I can think of no one else that I wish to spend a lifetime with," Data continued. "Nor anyone that could be a greater partner in life and in love."

Data paused.

"And in raising a family," Data added softly.

Tasha's throat went tight. Data observed a miniscule change in her expression. He could see her entire body tense up at his words.

"I say that not to pressure you," Data said.

"I know," Tasha replied quickly.

She didn't feel pressured.

She felt unworthy of such praise.

"But you are bothered," Data remarked.

"I just-" Tasha trailed off as she looked out and the rain.

Neither of them spoke as the rain fell softly on the tarp above.

Tasha had been holding up so many walls for so long. She felt exhausted from the emotional labour of it all.

Data was the person that held her during her night terrors. He accepted the behaviour quirks that were the result of years of trauma. And he had never once judged her for it.

More than anyone, Data understood what it felt like to be treated as an object – and just how tricky it was for a person to pick up the pieces of oneself, to navigate social situations, and to always feel like an outsider.

Tasha sniffled.

"Please do not cry," Data requested. "You are far too deserving of-"

"Please don't," Tasha insisted.

"You have helped me to realise that-" Data began to say.

"Don't," Tasha repeated.

Data was confused.

He slipped two fingers under her chin, forcing her to look back and meet his eyes.

"Please. I cannot bear to see you cry. On a day like today you are my only bit of sunshine," Data said.

But between the memories the wisps had evoked the night before and the conversation with Lwaxana, Tasha was overcome with an emotional weight that was too old and deep to push aside.

"You give so much of yourself to others. Please, how can I-" Data attempted to ask.

"I'm not a good person Data," Tasha said suddenly.

She paused, her lip quivering as she averted her eyes.

"I'm not," she said, pleading for him to understand. "I spend every day trying to make up for the things I've done."

She reached up and wiped her face with the back of her sleeve.

"And it will never be enough," Tasha sobbed.

Tasha felt that she could spend a lifetime attempting to atone for her sins and barely scratch the surface of what she owed.

Cosgais sgonnael a buaid.

Data recalled the statement she had made during their last counselling session.

Tasha was convinced that there was some kind of grand cosmic cost to her escape from Turkana.

"Tasha, you do not owe anyone a debt for safety," Data said.

"If you knew the things I'd done, you would never look at me the same way again," Tasha said in a low voice as she stared off at the rain.

She paused and took a shaky breath.

"I'm not a good person, Data," Tasha repeated. "And when you put me put up this pedestal I just, I just can't-"

Data tried to pull her into an embrace, but Tasha pushed his hands away. It wasn't to be rude, but she didn't feel that she deserved his affection.

Tasha closed her eyes and attempted to stop her mind from spiralling. Everything was a blur of faces and memories.

The smell of motor oil and sweat. The grimy feel of having dust in her hair. The sickening emptiness she felt anytime she reminded herself of her goal whenever she had to make a difficult decision, sacrificing a piece of herself in order to get one step closer to escape.

"Data, I made choices that hurt other people," Tasha explained. "I did things that are unforgivable."

"You need not apologise for what you were forced to do because of the circumstances of your birth," Data assured her. "You were only trying to survive."

Tasha took a long breath, attempting to regain some of her composure.

Tasha stared at Data.

Hard.

"Perhaps you would benefit from discussing this with Counsellor Troi?" Data suggested. "I would be happy to accompany you for support."

"I can't tell Deanna this," Tasha shared.

She desperately wanted to tell someone.

"Then I will listen," Data offered in earnest.

Where would you even begin? Tasha asked herself.

"How long do you have?" Tasha asked with a cynical laugh.

"As long as it takes," Data responded.

"That was the answer," Tasha clarified, indicating that her question had been rhetorical.

Data reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind Tasha's ear.

"I believe your guilt is misplaced," Data said.

Tasha opened her mouth to protest, but Data silenced her.

"I do not care what you have done," he insisted. "One of the most beautiful things about humans is their ability to grow and change."

His face softened.

"I have always admired your resilience. It was one of the many reasons why I love you," Data said. "And it does not have to be rational."

Data's face softened.

"When you are ready, I am here," he assured her.

Tasha's shoulders slumped.

"I can't," she said simply.

"Tasha, more than anything I desire to be with you. Regardless of what you were forced to endure as a child," Data said.

He cupped her face.

"I have no wish to pressure you. But I love you. And I want to make a commitment to you," Data asserted.

"If you knew, if you only knew, you would never look at me the same way again," Tasha said, reiterating her earlier statement.

"My optical receptors are capable of distinguishing millions more colours than the average human eye," Data shared.

Tasha's brow furrowed. She didn't understand where Data was headed.

"The freckles in her eyes are like stardust," Data said. "And it is a shame that she will never see them as I do."

In that moment, Tasha was reminded of how deep a bond they shared and exactly how much she loved Data.

She leaned forward. Closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against his.

"When you put it like that," Tasha said.

She did not finish her sentence.

"Tasha, are you saying that-" Data began to ask.

"I'm saying that if you were to ask the question, I would have a hard time saying no to you," Tasha confessed.

Data took hold of her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. They sat like that in silence for a while until Tasha tentatively leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to Data's lips.

"Tasha-" Data attempted to say.

"Shhh," she shushed him before capturing his lips with her own.

They spent the afternoon lip locked as the rain fell softly around them.

---

Back in the city, Deanna was standing at the edge of the water.

There was rain moving in. She could see the sky was dark off the East.

Whenever rain was on the horizon, Deanna could sense the change in barometric pressure. Deanna didn't know if this was also an experience humans felt or if it had something to do with her Betazoid abilities.

Either way, it left her feeling electrified.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a familiar person out wandering before the storm.

Will Riker was out collecting rocks. He did not notice Deanna further down the beach.

He paused to examine a piece of sea glass and then realised she was standing there.

Will nodded and then turned to go. He had no wish to disturb her solitude or intrude on her personal space.

After three days of contemplation, Deanna had realised a number of things about herself and her relationship with Will.

She looked from him out to the sea and sighed.

The waves were already beginning to grow rocky as the wind whipped up. White crests crashed against the buoy that wobbled in the water.

Determined that she needed to speak with him sooner or later, Deanna headed up the beach.

"Hey," she called out.

"Sorry, I, uh…well, I didn't expect anyone to be out here," Will confessed as he stood there awkwardly with his bucket.

"Find anything good?" Deanna asked.

Will reached into the bucket to show her a few of his finds.

"Some agates. A bit of sea glass," he explained.

He rummaged around before pulling out a small shell.

"And this!" he declared triumphantly.

Deanna didn't recognise the object. It also didn't help that it was covered in muck.

"They're a special kind of clam. I'm hoping to whip up something special later. Maybe a seafood cake with a nice remoulade," Will said.

Deanna couldn't hide her laughter.

Only Will Riker could come to Haven and focus on food.

"Do you, do you want to join me for dinner?" Will asked tentatively. "I'm not expecting anything."

Deanna could sense he was honest.

Without hesitation, she accepted his offer.

They spent the evening grilling seafood over an open flame in a clay oven that sat at the edge of Will's cabana. It was intended for heating, but Will had been using it to cook.

"This is not bad," Deanna said slowly.

"You were expecting anything less?" Will asked.

They both laughed.

He knew his culinary skills were far from legendary. Deanna had always been receptive to allowing Will to test new recipes.

"Someday when I retire I'm going to build my own woodfire oven," Will declared. "I'll have a garden. And I'm going to grow tomatoes as big as your head."

"Will," Deanna began.

There were times that he made statements like that, statements that hinted at his desire to do more than just be a Starfleet captain.

"Hmm?" he asked in response as he bustled about his makeshift kitchen.

"We need to talk," Deanna said. "About Wyatt."

"I'm here for you," Will assured her.

"I didn't love him," Deanna clarified.

Will stopped and turned back to her.

"Ok," he nodded. "I'm here for you. Whatever you need to say."

He turned back to the stove and rotated the latest batch of seafood skewers.

"Will," Deanna repeated.

He immediately stopped. Will pulled the skewers off the fire and came to sit down opposite of Deanna.

Will sat and listened patiently, occasionally refilling Deanna's wine as she walked him through the conflicting mix of emotions she had been grappling with over the last few days.

It was important to Deanna that he understood why she had asked for space to sort it all out.

She still felt the same way she always had when it came to Will Riker. She adored him. They shared a deep connection as both friends and lovers.

Deanna had been comfortable with their relationship.

"But now there's Wyatt," Deanna shrugged.

His presence had shaken all of that up and made Deanna question whether this arrangement with Will Riker was truly what she wanted.

"I thought you don't love him?" Will asked, confused.

"No. I don't," Deanna clarified. "But I think I could have."

---

Bluefin Bay was a scenic nature preserve along the coast. It was sheltered from the tumultuous waters of the rocky coastline.

There were groves of mangroves that offered a secluded hideaway for all sorts of wildlife.

"This is the life," Miles remarked.

Typically he enjoyed kayaking in more challenging waters. But it was a nice change of pace to glide along the smooth, clear blue waters of this spot.

Keiko had brought along a video recording device and was documenting all sorts of plants for an upcoming lecture.

After three long days of hiking, Tasha was just happy for the chance to explore the area without having to use her feet.

As they paddled along, Data glanced over to his left. Tasha looked back and they shared a smile.

Something had changed between them, and they both recognised it.

---

"This type of self-blame is common for people that have experienced complex trauma," Deanna explained.

It was their second counselling session since returning from the trip.

While they normally only saw Deanna weekly, she had suggested a secondary session in order to begin a process she called Cognitive Processing Therapy.

When Deanna had first explained the procedure, Tasha had been reluctant to undergo such a method. There were some things she absolutely could not discuss due to her work in Starfleet covert operations.

Tasha was still not comfortable with sharing some of the more gruesome aspects of her time on Turkana.

As a compromise, Deanna had suggested that they start with something from her earlier childhood.

In preparation for their session, Deanna had tasked with focusing on one trauma. Given the incident on the holodeck, she had suggested that as a starting point.

"Are you ready?" Deanna asked.

Tasha nodded.

"When I was five I watched my mother die in childbirth. And a lot of other people too," Tasha began.

Maternal mortality on a world like Turkana was a very real possibility for too many. Tasha had only been five, but the events of that day had been burned into her core memory.

"My sister," Tasha shared.

"Ishara?" Data inquired.

Tasha shook her head in the negative.

"The youngest one," Tasha said as her throat grew tight.

She had never shared this information with anyone – not even other counsellors.

"What was her name?" Deanna asked softly, hoping to distract Tasha with recalling something positive.

"She never had a name," Tasha replied.

Tasha closed her eyes and thought back to that night.

It had been an unusually cold winter. The ground was partially frozen. Tasha's father had been killed ten days earlier.

He'd gone to a local market to trade. Months of collecting scrap and hard labour in the hills had produced enough to buy a goat. With another child on the way, a goat was a good investment. It would help feed them and they could use the extra milk to produce cheese – a valuable trade commodity.

Her father had never made it back alive.

Tasha had found him along the road – less than a kilometre from their hovel – face-down and bloodied. They hadn't bothered to rob him, what little he had on his person remained intact.

No, this was a killing intended to send a message.

Tasha's father had refused to send one of his children to the local clan. The clan had demanded payment for use of the land and for permitting Tasha's mother to set up a homestead with this man.

'Yar' wasn't just a surname – it was an occupational name and a class.

But there was nothing to pay with.

Their crop wasn't enough to feed the family. And promises of work mining and assisting with protection went unpaid.

The clan had demanded payment in the form known as fiachtriall.

"You see they won their freedom, sort of," Tasha tried to explain. "And he didn't want us to have to endure what they went through."

Both of her parents had been Yars.

And Turgon, the local clan leader, had his eye on their children ever since Tasha's birth.

"They killed him to send a message to my mother," Tasha went on. "That her children, all of her children belonged to Turgon."

Tasha's mother had known that she couldn't save all of her children. But she wanted to give them a chance to escape.

"My grandmother came to stay with us after that. She was going to take me with her," Tasha explained.

Tasha was the oldest and the healthiest. It only made sense that she be the one to go. She stood the best chance of survival.

"But then my mother went into labour early," Tasha recalled.

It had been a difficult labour. Tasha had been tasked with both watching the other children and assisting her grandmother.

Typically sepsis or fever took most women.

But Tasha had watched her mother struggle through an agonising postpartum haemorrhage. There had been nothing her grandmother could do.

Hours after giving birth, she had died on the floor of the shanty they called a farm.

A neighbour had shown up not long after warning that Turgon and his mercenaries were out collecting debts.

"My grandmother tied the baby in a wrap around me and told us to run into the woods. She said to head for the river and never look back," Tasha recounted. "I didn't want to go."

Tasha was crying openly now.

"And then they started shooting at the house and-and she," Tasha stopped as she was overcome with grief.

The last memories of home were of death and terror. While their home hadn't been much, it had been full of love.

"It was so dark that night. I tied us together like my mother used to do when we went foraging. But I was so little I didn't think I knew how to do it properly," Tasha confessed.

Data was concerned, but Deanna encouraged Tasha to keep going. She was fully engrossed in the memory now and it was important that they not lose the momentum.

"It felt like we waited forever. We had to stop because it sounded like we were surrounded. And I remember knowing enough that we were safer waiting to cross the river in the morning," Tasha said. "And then-"

She paused and wiped her eyes.

"Oh gods," she sobbed. "And then Luka wandered off."

Her whole body was shaking.

"I couldn't stop him," Tasha cried. "I couldn't….I couldn't keep them all safe."

Deanna reached across the table and took hold of Tasha's hand.

"Tasha, who is Luka?" Deanna asked in a even tone.

"My brother. My little brother," Tasha wept.

Deanna could help but hide her surprise.

"You had a little brother?" Deanna questioned.

Tasha nodded.

"There was me, Ishara, then the twins – Micah and Luka, then the baby," Tasha said as she counted them off on her hand.

Five-year-old Tasha hadn't just been sent to flee into the night with her sister Ishara and a baby – she'd been tasked with seeing to the safety of herself and four other children.

"Luka ran off. It was too dark, and I was so afraid," Tasha continued. "And I knew that we couldn't go wandering because those men were all around us."

She paused and shuddered.

"And we could hear them screaming. The swamp wasn't safe," Tasha said.

There were jaguars that prowled the area, pythons that stalked the trees, and crocodiles that liked to lie in wait in the brackish waters that surrounded the area.

"We never saw him again. He just wandered off in the night and probably became prey for some-" Tasha fell silent and shook her head.

Deanna didn't know what to say.

"We didn't have a way to feed the baby. I tried to give her water from a rag to suckle," Tasha explained. "Just to keep her from crying. But you know a baby can't survive on that."

Tasha dropped her gaze to her lap where she was fidgeting with her hands.

"She starved to death because I didn't know how to take care of her," Tasha said as if she were on autopilot.

Tasha lifted her head, but there was a faraway, glazed look in her eyes.

"I killed my sister. And Luka. I couldn't keep him safe," Tasha shrugged. "And then when Micah got sick I didn't know what else to do."

She hadn't been capable of caring for a sick child. Not that there was much she could have done as an adult. Infection and illness were far too common an occurrence – especially among small children.

"This man promised us that he would feed us and heal Micah. He invited us into his home and gave us soup. And I remember that for the first time, I didn't feel hungry," Tasha shared.

She took a shaky breath and paused for a minute.

"Then he told us that we owed him. That I owed him. And that I could pick if I wanted to pay myself or have my sister pay," Tasha sniffled.

And in what became a pattern, Tasha had stepped up in order to protect her sister.

"He never healed Micah. He just let him die," Tasha lamented.

That man had tricked Tasha. He had taken advantage of a desperate child that didn't know any better. It had proven an important lesson for her as a young girl.

But such a lesson had come at the cost of her brother's life.

Though her feelings of guilt were misplaced, it didn't change the fact a part of Tasha would always feel responsible for the deaths of three of her younger siblings.

It was part of why Tasha had worked so hard to protect Ishara – often leading to tension between the two. They were only sixteen months apart in age and Ishara had no inkling of what Tasha had sacrificed to keep her safe.

It was also what drove Tasha's desire to leave no one behind.

"Then it was just Ishara and me," Tasha said.

For the first time since she had begun, Tasha turned and met Deanna's eyes.

"My mother had five children, Deanna. And she died giving birth to a child that she never got to name. A child that died without a name," Tasha said. "She had five children and she died at eighteen."

Tasha's statement hung in the air.

Deanna tried to not show any reaction, but it left a foul taste in her mouth.

"I know your mum didn't mean anything by it, but the idea that we all should be as fertile as our mothers is a terrifying prospect," Tasha concluded.

---

When they got back to Tasha's quarters, Data and Tasha snuggled down on the sofa. Tasha had said nothing. She was content to simply be close to Data.

He'd seen some of her earliest, darkest memories. He didn't flinch or judge her. Coming back to sit in his arms had felt like coming home - a home they had built together. Tasha's trauma wasn't something she could process overnight. But she had taken an important first step in trusting Data enough to open up.

By the time they had left Deanna's office, Tasha was beyond tears. But the emotional labour of recounting such trauma had left her feeling utterly knackered. They sat in silence watching the stars until Tasha fell asleep.

Data had carried her into bed and carefully removed her shoes before tucking her in.

He pressed a slow, soft kiss to her forehead – lingering a few seconds longer than normal as he said a silent prayer to the universe that this woman had survived such an unfortunate upbringing and found her way to him.

Finally alone, Data slipped out to the main room and grabbed his tablet. He booted up the device and resumed his previous search.

Rhodilium was one of the rarest materials in the universe – but it was an essential component to Data's plan.

The purpose of such a material was two-fold. Data hoped to demonstrate to Tasha that she was precious to him.

From a practical standpoint, Rhodilium was a non-conductive material. It was also easily traceable even at long distances and through atmospheric interference. Starfleet had once considered using it as an element of combadge construction. But Rhodilium was far too rare to obtain in the quantities necessary to produce the tens of thousands of combadges necessary to outfit its ranks.

Symbolically, Data hoped to convey that he would always be there to protect Tasha. He wanted her to understand that she had someone looking out for her.

She had spent so much of her life having to protect others, this was an opportunity for her to feel like she had a safe place to come home to in Data's arms.

In a few weeks they were due to arrive at Starbase 173 for a resupply. They were expected to be docked for seventy-hours.

Data would clear it with Captain Picard and make a booking to stay on base at one of the holosuite rooms. He would also need to speak with Guinan about obtaining a bottle of appropriate whisky.

And snacks! Data thought.

In fact, it would only make sense to acquire an entire weekend's worth of provisions from Guinan.

Tasha was awfully fond of Guinan's sushi nights and Data knew Guinan would be more than willing to help prepare something special.

He made a mental note to talk to her in the morning.

Data powered down his tablet and sat back in his chair, staring at nothing in particular. His eyes fell on Tasha's sneakers in the corner.

There was a sharp intake of breath as Data's eyebrows shot up.

The tournament! He realised.

The timing of Data's plan was fortuitous. The Enterprise's annual sparring tournament was coming up. If the odds played out as predicted, Tasha would be coming off a win.

As he climbed into bed, Data spooned up behind Tasha.

She mumbled in her sleep and nestled back against him.

In spite of the difficulty in their recent counselling sessions, Data had never felt more alive. Their course was clear, and they were heading in the right direction.

Data's mind was set, and his heart was full.

Everything about this moment felt right.