Author's Note: Aggghhhhh! It feels so good to be back!
Now that The Case is finished – here we are!
I want to warn you – there are spoilers in this chapter for The Case.
We're picking up after the Enterprise has left Starbase 173. This is intended to be a mostly feel-good chapter in the style of the classic sci fi formula where something harmless inevitably goes wrong. It's my take on the trope we've seen used in the likes of Eureka's Try, Try Again, SG-1's Upgrades, Sanctuary's The Hero, and a gillion other sci-fi shows.
So where are we headed now that The Case is complete?
Here's the roadmap for the next six weeks:
Mummy Dearest: Birthdays, new assignments, engagements, and an emergency on the Bridge – it's just another day on the Enterprise as relayed by Deanna in a letter to her mother.
All Kinds of Weather: A visit from Geordi's sister to the Enterprise is a pleasure for everyone – except Geordi. The notion of family has both Data and Tasha thinking about their own estranged siblings.
Coming of Age: Wes prepares for his entrance exams to Starfleet Academy. New information forces the team to rethink the Romulan Conspiracy.
Heart of Glory: When three rogue Klingons leave Worf with uncomfortable questions, the crew are there to remind him that the Enterprise is home.
Arsenal of Freedom: A computerised weapons system proves more than a match for the crew. With the Captain, Commander Riker, and Doctor Crusher injured, it's up to Data and Tasha to save them. Meanwhile, Geordi's in command.
"Congratulations on your acceptance to Starfleet Academy," Captain Picard said as he shook Wesley's hand.
"Thank you, sir," Wes smiled.
Worf handed him a plate with a massive piece of cake. Worf watched as Wesley's eyes diverted over to Commander Riker and then back down to the cake at hand.
"Chocolate raspberry," Worf assured him. "Homemade. Made by me."
Wes relaxed.
The last time Commander Riker had made a cake for an occasion had resulted in the Marmite cake incident.
"The schematics on your project are phenomenal," Geordi said.
"Do you intend to start your coursework at the Academy immediately or pursue your research fellowship at the Daystrom Institute?" Data inquired.
Starfleet Academy.
The Daystrom Institute.
The Vulcan Science Academy.
They all wanted him.
"You've got a lot of options," Geordi commented.
"Thanks," Wes replied.
He was beaming with pride.
All of sudden, the klaxons began to blare as there was a ship wide red alert.
Wes sat upright in bed and caught his breath.
It was all a dream. Wes realised.
He fell back against his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. It had been a pleasant enough dream. Wesley's experiment had proved a success and catapulted him into the spotlight of discovery.
While he enjoyed fantasising about such an accomplishment, Wes couldn't help but feel anxious. If he failed or his experiment didn't work, it would mean another trip back to the drawing board.
There was a soft chime at the door to his bedroom.
A moment later, Beverly poked her head.
Beverly spied the tablet and textbooks splayed out all over the bed. There was a hyperspanner on the floor and the schematics of an engineering project that half-covered her son.
She realised he had fallen asleep working.
Again.
"You're going to be late," Beverly said.
Wes scrambled to get ready – knocking over his biology homework on the way to the shower. The two minutes it took for the garment reprocessor to steam his grey jumpsuit.
"C'mon, c'mon," Wes said, tapping his foot.
The light shifted from red to green.
Cooling. The computer advised.
But Wes didn't have time.
He pulled open the access panel and steam rolled out. Wes hissed as he grabbed his clothes. Normally Wesley would have taken care of such preparations the night before. But he was so excited for his project that his entire focus had been on rehearsing his presentation.
After a hasty morning routine, Wes rushed out the door with a croissant in hand.
"Do you want me to bring something down to the lab? You need to eat," Beverly said.
"No time, mum!" Wes said, racing out the door.
Beverly just shook her head as she sipped her tea.
In so many ways, Wesley was like his father. But when it came to his insatiable tenacity to tackle a project – that was all Beverly.
"Complete biometric fusion," Wes said.
He frowned and shook his head.
"Total biometric fusion," Wes said, trying a new phrase.
He closed his eyes and grumbled. 'Total' didn't sound right either. It didn't quite strike the tone he was hoping for.
"A fusion of biology and nanotechnology that will revolutionise the way we argh!" Wes groaned.
"You alright?" Will Riker asked.
Wes froze. His face flushed with embarrassment at having been caught. Wesley had been so preoccupied that he hadn't even bothered to notice anyone else on the lift.
"Fine, sir," Wes said, clearing his throat.
The lift ground to a halt on deck eleven.
"Break a leg," Riker said.
Wesley blanched. The whole point of his research was to save people from such a fate.
"Go get 'em, tiger," Riker winked.
The two men stepped off the lift. Wes went on ahead while Commander Riker waited outside in the corridor.
"How's our boy?" Geordi said as he approached Commander Riker.
"Bright eyed and bushy tailed," Riker replied.
"You are up," Data remarked with surprise.
"Mmmm, I didn't want to get out of bed," Tasha replied with a lazy grin.
Data had been in the lavvy readying himself for the day. Upon returning to the main room, he found Tasha seated at the table. Her feet were thrown up on the next chair and she was sipping on Raktajino as she scrolled through the morning report.
"Any news?" Data inquired.
"Not a peep," Tasha replied.
"Good," Data said.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before slipping into the seat across the table.
For the last two weeks, Data and Tasha had shared in a renewed sense of domestic delight in the wake of the incident at Starbase 173.
After a tense situation and more than enough heartache to last a lifetime, Data's personhood was now a matter of law. He had been granted the full rights of a Federation citizen. Bruce Maddox was behind bars.
And Tasha had a habit of twirling the ring on the finger and flashing Data a smile from time to time whenever they were alone.
It was pure bliss – and a feeling they were hoping would last.
"Are we still on for tonight?" Data asked.
"Wouldn't miss it for anything," Tasha replied over the rim of her mug.
It had officially been seventeen days since Data and Tasha had mutually agreed to get engaged. There were still a lot of details to work through, but Data and Tasha weren't concerned about it.
They were confident that they were going to make a commitment together and, for the moment, the specifics of just how that would shape up were unimportant.
For the time being, they were just happy to be together.
And they had big plans for the evening. It was the first time they were going to get the chance to celebrate that engagement.
So they had both set aside time to be off duty early. They were going to spend a few hours on the holodeck before a quiet dinner at home.
"Will we be celebrating anything tonight?" Tasha asked.
Data cocked his head to the side.
"A project," Tasha clarified. "I assume you submitted something."
Data had a satisfied grin on his face.
"My dear, I am the judge," Data said.
Tasha raised her glass to him.
Every six months, the Enterprise had a research evaluation process. For the engineers and science officers aboard, there was nothing more valuable than time.
Well, time in the lab.
Unfortunately, it was a finite resource.
While the Enterprise housed numerous decks full of laboratory space, that space remained a premium commodity. Outside of labs that were community spaces designated for specific purposes (like Stellar Cartography), most officers were doubled or even tripled up in the other general purposes areas.
Departmental heads were usually afforded their own private labs. By virtue of their rank and position, both Data and Geordi had their own dedicated laboratory spaces.
So every six months, the crew used this research evaluation process to determine who would get to occupy two private rotating lab spaces.
In addition, the most promising projects received additionally allocated duty time on the roster.
Both group and individual submissions were permitted. Projects were evaluated on both merit and potential. They were judged by a panel consisting of Geordi, Data, and Commander Riker – who fondly dubbed it 'the Science Fair.'
The final portion of the evaluation process involved a formal presentation. These presentations often involved demonstrations.
It was one of the most challenging and exciting days for Starfleet Security officers.
Anything was possible.
There were new weapons, superfoods, and devices. During the previous testing phase, Data had been required to restrain a number of crew members after a new stimulant had gone awry.
But it wasn't all doom and gloom.
The Security Officers were eager test subjects. The opportunity to try a new protein shake or shoes that made one run faster was a dream come true.
It was like playtime.
"I should get down there," Data said. "I promised to help Geordi with the preparations to the holodeck."
"I'll see you down there," Tasha said.
Data gave her a peck on the cheek before turning to the door. He stopped just shy of the door and turned back to the table.
Data knew just how keen Tasha was to get her hands on the new phaser rifle they were testing.
"Tasha? Be careful today," Data requested.
Tasha sat back in her seat and grinned.
"For you?" she teased. "Always."
"I'm just here to observe," Tasha said.
She crossed her arms across her chest in order to stop herself from being tempted by Lieutenant MacNaughton's new lightweight phaser redesign.
"Increased stability, faster recharge, and a detachable power pack that allows for use on long-term missions," MacNaughton said.
There was a twinkle in his eye as he held out for Tasha to pick up.
"And the scope is upgraded to include thermal sensing," MacNaughton offered.
Tasha hesitated for a second before reminding herself of the promise she made to Data.
"I'm just here to observe," she smiled. "Jeffords, you want to give it a go?"
Ensign Jeffords's face lit up as he stepped forward to give the phaser a try.
They were on one of the holodecks in a simulated phaser range. Jeffords strolled over to the testing area. He set his sights on the target across the range and pressed the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Jeffords pressed it again.
"Everything alright?" Tasha asked.
"I dunno," Jeffords responded. "I'm pressing the trigger but nothing's-"
Before he could utter another word, Ensign Jeffords was thrown back into the holodeck wall.
"I'm okay!" Jeffords hollered.
Tasha ordered for two of the officers to attend to Jeffords while she removed the power cell from the phaser prototype.
"I guess this means it's not cleared?" MacNaughton asked.
"Sorry," Tasha said as she handed it back to him.
Over on the next holodeck, Data, Geordi, and Commander Riker were watching patiently as Reg Barclay fumbled through his presentation.
"The p-power requirements are e-enormous," Barclay noted. "But I t-th-think they are justified."
"It's an ambitious project, Mr Barclay," Commander Riker said.
Indeed, it was a tremendous undertaking. Reg's plan was a brilliant idea. But Commander Riker wasn't the only person concerned about Barclay's ability to deliver. Though imaginative, Reg struggled with time management.
"Reg, this is an exciting idea," Geordi said. "I'm thrilled about the possibility of what we could do here."
"But you hate it," Reg said.
"No, no!" Geordi assured him.
There was an awkward pause as Geordi tried to find the right words. He didn't want to hurt Reg's feelings. Geordi's praise was genuine, but so were his concerns about the practicality of such a proposal.
Reg could sense his hesitation to answer. There was nothing Reg hated more than when people treated him with kid-gloves.
"I believe that what Lieutenant La Forge is trying to say is that we believe this project has remarkable merit, it would require considerable resources and time," Data said.
Geordi nodded.
"It would take a team of people to pull this off," Geordi chimed in.
"Well, it was a longshot anyway," Reg said.
He turned back to his computer and turned off the holographic simulation.
"Thank you for your consideration," Reg said as he turned around.
He froze.
Data, Geordi, and Commander Riker were still standing there as if they were waiting for him to proceed.
"The demonstration?" Riker prompted.
Reg blinked in confusion.
"Reg, just because your project is a big ask doesn't mean we're dismissing it," Geordi said.
"Do not think you can get off that easily," Data added.
Reg was taken aback. He had been expecting rejection – for Reg Barclay it was a fact of life.
"R-r-right," Reg nodded.
He tapped the screen to reactivate his presentation and the holographic demonstration sprang to life. With a newfound sense of confidence, Reg launched into his rehearsed speech.
"With this programme, we would be able to test the effects of medical procedures, weapons, or atmospheric conditions on humanoid tissue without actually exposing the subject to the material," Reg explained. "The holographic matrix only interacts with the nanocytes designed to replicate humanoid tissue, leaving the subject safe."
"All set?" Tasha asked as she stepped up next to Wesley.
He was hunched over a table on the holodeck as he typed away at his computer.
Wesley's scheduled presentation was due to begin in less than ten minutes.
"Lieutenant Yar, could I ask you something?" Wes inquired.
"Sure," Tasha nodded.
"I want you to test it," Wes said. "I'd be honoured if you would be the one to, well, give it a go for me."
Wesley knew how much Tasha loved a good thrill. He also recognised that the last few weeks had been tough on her. More than that, so much of his training to become an acting Ensign had been under Tasha's wing.
He wanted to do something for her.
Tasha tensed.
"Wes, I would love to, but I'm going to have to pass on this one," Tasha said.
Wesley's face fell.
"Alright. No problem," Wesley said, hoping to hide his disappointment.
"Look, Wes there's nothing I'd love more – but I can't," Tasha said. "I can't take any risks today, it's just that-"
"I understand," Wes assured her.
He resumed typing away on his computer.
"You're going to do great," Tasha said as she gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
"Really, I understand," Wesley insisted. "There's a chance this could fail."
There was always a chance that a field test could go awry. However, Tasha was usually the first person to volunteer for testing such exciting new projects.
Despite his protest to the contrary, Wesley couldn't deny that he felt hurt Tasha had so little faith in his design. He had never seen her turn down an opportunity like that before.
Tasha gripped Wesley's shoulders, forcing him to turn and look at her.
"Your project is not going to fail. And even if it does, then I know you will eventually figure it out," Tasha said.
She was hoping to instil confidence in Wesley.
"Wes, it's not your project. I made someone a promise," Tasha explained. "A promise that I would be careful today."
"Oh," Wes said as realisation dawned on him. "I get it. Adult stuff. This is because of Data."
Tasha nodded.
"Someday you're going to meet someone who makes you want to take care of yourself. To, well, to not put on the suit," Tasha said.
She glanced at the suit that was sitting atop a nearby table. There was an unmistakable hint of wistful longing in her voice.
"No matter how badly you wish you could," she added with a heavy sigh.
"So who's up next?" Geordi asked.
"Wesley Crusher," Data informed them.
Commander Riker, Data, and Geordi were all standing in the corridor outside of the holodecks. They had just finished up their evaluation with Reg Barclay and were moving right through the list.
Without warning, the computer panels all shifted to blue. The lights that lined the corridor had also shifted.
Blue alert. Data realised.
It was typically used to signal there was an environmental or hazardous material concern. It was also a signal for problems with docking and launch procedures. But the Enterprise was travelling a low speed as she proceeded through a safe region of space to her next assignment.
The door to Holodeck One slid open. A powerful gust of force and cloud of haze drifted into the corridor as members of the atmospheric sciences and the aromachology departments poured out of the room. They were hacking and coughing, clutching their throats as they tried to find fresh air.
"The sonic wind turbine started on its own. The panel's short-circuited out," Doctor Hayes said. "It's blowing my cloaking experiment everywhere!"
"Ah!" Geordi said, putting up a finger.
"I know! I know!" Hayes said.
"We cannot call it 'cloaking'," Geordi, Data, and Hayes said in unison.
Commander Riker looked around at the three for an explanation.
"It's a specialised gel that is used to mask odours," Hayes informed him.
"Oh," Commander Riker nodded.
He didn't want to discount the importance of such a project, but Will Riker had to admit that odour masking wasn't the sexiest project out there.
"It's blowing the samples everywhere," Hayes said with a sense of urgency.
"We could push back the timing of your presentation for a later slot on the agenda," Data suggested as he looked down at the itinerary on his tablet.
"Rafflesia arnoldii from the Botany department. Adrenal sacs from a Klingon Targ," Hayes said.
They were two of the smelliest known substances in the universe. It had all been part of Doctor Hayes's plan to demonstrate the effectiveness of his new gel.
"Faecal matter from the Exobiology lab!" Hayes added.
"Then maybe you should shut the big fan off?" Riker offered.
Hayes's expression soured.
"You don't think we tried that?" Hayes asked in response.
Geordi, Data, and Commander Riker turned to one another. None of them were particularly jumping for the chance to run into a room full of flying dung.
"Those are going to be some potentially dangerous wind speeds," Geordi advised.
"And only one of us has the ability to shut off his olfactory receptors," Riker grinned as he locked eyes with Data.
"Right," Data nodded.
He turned and headed off for the source of the crisis.
"You're a brave man, Data!" Riker hollered after him.
While Data dashed off to deal with the poo flinging fan, Commander Riker and Geordi joined the team in the next holodeck for Wesley Crusher's demonstration.
Worf was standing atop a platform ten metres up.
"He looks so stoic," Riker said. "The lone warrior."
"Are you kidding? He's practically giddy," Tasha said out of the corner of her mouth.
"How can you tell?" Riker whispered.
Tasha just smirked.
She knew Worf well enough to understand he was delighted at the prospect of being the first person to field test Wesley's invention.
"All set?" Wesley called up.
"Ready!" Worf hollered back.
He took a few steps back and prepared for his descent. Worf shook his arms to loosen up. He jogged in place for a second before rushing to the edge. With a powerful push off, he sprang from the platform and into the air.
Everyone watched with heady anticipation as he fell through the air.
"C'mon, c'mon," Wesley whispered under his breath.
Worf hit the floor of the holodeck with a resounding thud.
Nobody spoke.
"Quapla'!" Worf shouted triumphantly as he jumped up.
Everyone cheered. Wesley's shoulder relaxed. Geordi was beaming. Beverly had volunteered to serve as the medical officer on duty for the test.
She rushed over and whipped out her tricorder to scan Worf's vital signs.
"How do you feel?" Wesley asked.
"Alive!" Worf replied.
While Beverly analysed Worf's physical reaction, Wesley and Geordi studied the readings from the suit Worf had donned for the presentation.
"The nanocytes fuse with the body to create a full barrier that is impact resistant," Wesley explained. "It also keeps the wearer safe from extreme temperatures, hazardous atmospheric conditions, radiation – even light and sound waves."
"Wes, this is incredible!" Geordi replied.
Before Worf was complete, they tested the impact resistance from jumps at thirty metres and fifty metres – all simulated by the holodeck.
After that, Worf had been a keen test subject. Hell, he felt invincible.
"I've always wanted to shoot you," Riker teased.
"I would rather Lieutenant Yar take the shot," Worf requested.
"Scared?" Riker asked, taunting him.
Worf scoffed.
"No, she's got better aim. The point is to hit the suit," Worf responded without missing a beat.
The blast from the phaser had been enough to send Worf barrelling into the back wall. It had knocked him off his feet – but Worf himself was unharmed. Regardless of the phaser setting, the suit remained impenetrable.
"This technology also works in reverse," Wesley said.
"Reverse?" Riker inquired.
"Wes, really?" Geordi asked as his face lit up with excitement.
Wesley nodded with satisfaction.
"I don't understand, the suit can shoot? Built-in phasers?" Tasha asked.
"No," Wesley answered.
"Oh," Tasha said, feeling slightly disappointed.
A suit that came with built-in phaser technology would be a major tactical advantage.
"The basic principles behind phaser technology are similar to our shield grids," Wes explained.
Tasha crossed her arms.
"I know that much," Tasha replied.
"Our shields work on an oscillating frequency principle. They also recognise biometric input and are calibrated to deflect it," Geordi explained. "At a high enough speed, in this suit, one could theoretically pass through the force shields on the Enterprise."
Wesley grinned.
"Want to see what's next?" Wes asked.
"Ok this is not what I had in mind," Riker said.
"What's the matter, Commander? Can't take the heat?" Worf teased.
Commander Riker was standing in the middle of the holodeck as he was pummelled with heat from a sonic welder.
"Do I look like I'm sweating?" Riker threw back at him.
"This is astounding," Beverly remarked as she studied his vital signs.
"The suit has now reached a core temperature of 322.3 Kelvin," Geordi announced.
"Feeling hot," Riker grinned. "But that's just because I look good in this suit."
He winked to the crowd that had assembled to watch the test. Wesley's experiment was a big hit.
In a way, the suit made Commander Riker feel like a superhero. It had a sleek black and silver design. When it was uninhabited, the material felt almost like an aramid fabric. From a combination of specialty polyamide and nanocytes, the fabric literally adhered to the body of the wearer.
It offered both flexibility and protection.
Satisfied with results of the temperature testing, Wesley ordered the crew to cool Riker off. They shot him with a few blasts of cooling foam from plasma-fire extinguishers.
Once that was complete, Worf sprayed him down with a sonic cleaner.
"And it even cleans easily," Wesley said.
"I would like to further test the limitations of this suit," Worf said.
"Hang on! I just got my chance," Riker protested.
"Relax! I have four prototypes," Wesley assured them.
Will Riker's face broke out into a broad smile as both he and Worf turned back to look at Tasha.
"Ooo! I'll go!" Miles volunteered.
He figured if the suit was a success, he could use it for his kayaking programme on the holodeck. It might go a long way in soothing Keiko's nerves about his shoulder.
"You know you want to," Riker said.
Tasha couldn't lie – the thought was tempting.
"I really shouldn't," Tasha said, summoning all of her willpower.
"You've already seen it's safe," Wesley offered.
Tasha chewed on the inside of her lip. The suit had already gone through a series of rigorous tests. Both Worf and Commander Riker had emerged uninjured. Hell, the suit was impenetrable.
The corner of Tasha's lip curled into a smile as she reached for the third suit.
"Oh alright, twist my arm," she said.
It took Data seventy-nine minutes to disable the sonic fan and assist with the clean-up before taking time for himself.
Fresh from the shower, Data was now fully de-pooed and in a clean uniform.
He stepped onto the holodeck where the rest of the team was watching the results of Mr Crusher's presentation in action.
"And stepping up to the platform is the Tiger from Turkana," Riker said, doing his best to imitate a sports announcer. "She's coming off the heels of a well-executed swan dive. But will it be enough to push her over the edge following Worf's reverse triple twist?"
Data stopped just in the doorway as he followed the sightline of the crowd up to a platform that stood nearly thirty metres above the crowd.
Data watched with horror as Tasha backed away from the edge to give herself space for a run-up.
Tasha clenched and unclenched her fists.
Whenever they had the opportunity, Worf and Tasha were notoriously competitive. These suits were like a recipe for the ultimate contest between the two.
And after a morning of sitting on the side-lines, Tasha was craving an adrenaline fix.
To that end - Commander Riker, Worf, and Tasha had all been competing for the best jump.
Miles had opted to skip out on the dramatic contest, fearing what Keiko might say if she was to learn of his involvement. They were due a fitting that night to try some different possible options for the wedding.
The team had requested the holodeck create a floating bar. Their goal was to jump far enough to tap the bar before falling.
With each subsequent tap, the bar moved further and further from the platform.
Riker had been eliminated in the last round.
Worf had more power – but Tasha was lighter on her feet and counting on that fact to get more air.
Swinging her arms in sync with the opposite leg, Tasha put all her energy into her push off. There wasn't much room for the runway and Tasha knew she had to make the most of it.
First foot.
Second foot.
This is it. Tasha thought as her third foot landed.
"Tasha, wait!" Data shouted.
Tasha froze at the edge of the platform – but the momentum was too much, tripping over the edge she tumbled down from above.
It took Data 0.048 seconds to calculate the rate and trajectory of her fall.
Data rushed forward. Geordi sensed what was happening and raced over to grab Data.
"Data, no! It's fine!" Geordi said, catching his arm.
Data broke free of Geordi's grip and dove in an effort to stop Tasha's fall. She hit the ground with a resounding thud. Data closed his eyes and braced himself for the worst.
To his surprise, everyone cheered.
Data sat up and looked around in shock at the faces of his fellow officers.
I am missing vital information. Data realised.
Summoning the strength to turn around, he looked at the spot where Tasha had fallen. She was sitting up and laughing.
"Personal shield," she assured him. "I'm fine."
Only Data wasn't laughing. Outwardly, he appeared unresponsive. But Tasha could sense he was upset. There was a deep look of betrayal in his eyes.
He wasn't mad – he was disappointed.
And somehow that was worse.
Even Geordi had picked up on the stiffness in Data's posture that signalled his disapproval with Tasha's choice to partake in the experiment.
Tasha knew she had messed up.
"Data, I'm sorry," she said softly.
"You know we tested these extensively before I pushed Lieutenant Yar to join the field test," Geordi said.
He was hoping to offer Tasha some cover.
Beverly could also tell there was tension over the experiment. She rushed forward and conducted a quick scan on Tasha's vitals.
"All safe," Beverly smiled.
It did little to dissipate Data's feelings. He was completely exasperated with the fact that Tasha constantly put herself in unnecessary danger.
"It is fine," Data said in an unusually cold voice.
Worf helped Tasha to her feet as she brushed off the suit.
"Well, I think we have enough information to evaluate this project," Geordi said. "Test is over."
"Let's get these suits off and we can conduct a more thorough scan on the internal readings," Wesley instructed.
The suits were designed to be intuitive. Once the user began to pull off the suit at the neck, it would loosen.
Commander Riker tugged at the neckline only to find it was immoveable.
Tasha and Worf were having the same problem.
Tasha hissed as she tried to work her fingers under the wrist. Worf and Commander Riker began tugging at their waists.
The three of them looked up at the team.
"We may have a problem," Riker said.
"It's like tar!" Miles exclaimed.
"Take it off," Beverly instructed, assuming that he was referring to a medical issue.
"I can't," Riker said in a panic.
"Well physically, they're fine," Beverly reported.
Data, Captain Picard, and Beverly were standing in her office. Through the glass, Data could see Commander Riker, Worf, Miles, and Tasha sitting on three separate exam tables as the medical team ran a series of analyses.
"The suit is durable but breathable," Beverly went on. "For the immediate time being, they're not at any risk. Long-term, we will obviously need to find a way to extract them."
"Theorise, Mr Data," Picard ordered.
Data neural net had been a steady stream of hypotheses ever since leaving the holodeck.
The suit was impermeable to extreme temperatures. They couldn't cut it off, burn it off, or freeze it off. There would be no way to shatter or crack the material.
"Geordi and Mr Crusher are down in the lab working on it," Data said.
There was a distinct lack of confidence in his tone.
"Data?" Picard inquired.
He could tell there was something Data was holding back. Only Data didn't answer.
"Data, what is it?" Picard pressed.
Data frowned as he stared through the glass.
"It is a personal matter, sir," Data said.
Jean-Luc and Beverly exchanged a knowing glanced.
"Well then, I'll leave you to it," Picard said.
In the main part of Sickbay, the medical team was still completing their assessment.
"What solution do you think you're going to find in my eye?" Worf growled.
It was the second time Nurse Ogawa had scanned his eyes with an optical reader. Worf loathed the bright light as it made his pupils constrict. He was certain he'd be seeing stars for days.
"Astounding," Lieutenant Adams remarked as he ran his hand across the suit on Commander Riker's bicep.
"I lift," Riker grinned.
"Keiko's going to have my head if I come home in this," Miles grumbled.
"Relax, Chief. We'll get you out of there. Just not sure how long it may take," Adams said.
"That's the problem. I can't very well show up at my own wedding in this!" Miles countered.
"It is dress black. And look on the bright side, you don't have to worry about choosing a matching tie," Nurse Ogawa chuckled.
The trip from Sickbay to the Engineering lab had been uncomfortable for everyone. Data hadn't said a word to Tasha since the incident.
The team had ridden in silence on the lift.
"I'm really sorry about this," Wesley apologised.
He was practically frantic as he rushed about the lab in an effort to find a fix. Wes couldn't shake the feeling that the situation was all his fault. He felt horrible that three senior members of the Bridge crew had been taken out of commission due to his experiment.
"You know it's getting kinda dry in this suit," Riker said. "I'm parched."
Geordi and Miles looked at one another.
"Alright, I suppose we could all do with a perk up," Sonya said. "Who's in?"
"I could do with a fresh coffee," Geordi said as he lifted his mug. "How about you, Wes?"
"No, I have to keep working," Wesley said.
He kept his attention focused on the computer screen ahead. Wesley was determined he would not stop working until he found a solution to free his friends.
"It's okay to take a break," Miles said. "Doesn't do us any good if you burn out."
"Alright," Wes said, relaxing a bit. "I'll take one of those vanilla things with a pomegranate creamer."
Sonya turned next to Data. She didn't want to exclude him. After all, Data enjoyed exploring flavours and the sense of community that came from sharing a beverage with friends.
"Sir?" Sonya prompted.
"No, thank you," Data replied.
Data was hyper focused on the task at hand. Clouded by frustration over Tasha's involvement, it was taking Data more processing capacity than normal to work through the calculations.
"How about goldilocks and three bears?" Sonya asked the four officers sitting on the table.
"Coffee. Black. Double sweet," Miles said.
Sonya waved him off with a grin. She'd heard it order it plenty of times it was practically burned in her memory.
"Milk," Riker said.
Everyone stopped. Miles, Worf, and Tasha turned to Riker in surprise. Geordi paused typing and glanced over his shoulder.
"Milk?" Sonya asked.
"Yes. White stuff. Typically comes from a cow," Riker said.
"Just milk?" Sonya asked to clarify.
Riker nodded.
Geordi choked back a laugh and returned to his computer. Tasha bit her lip to hide her grin. Worf pretended to clear his throat to cover his own laugh.
"What?" Riker demanded.
Everyone quickly pretended to be occupied by other tasks.
"Interesting choice," Data said before turning to his own console.
Riker didn't understand what everyone found so amusing.
"Is there some memo about milk that I missed?" Riker asked in disbelief.
Tasha's shoulders were shaking as she gripped Worf's arm. It was the third time Worf had cleared his throat in the last minute in order to act as if he weren't laughing.
"Never took you for a milk drinker," Worf managed to choke out.
Riker blinked.
"Gods you people need to get out more," Riker remarked.
"Lieutenant Yar? Lieutenant Worf? Did you want anything from the canteen?" Sonya asked.
Tasha and Worf exchanged an uncomfortable glance. Sonya watched with fascination as the two of them wordlessly communicated.
After a few seconds, they turned back to Sonya and shook their heads in the negative.
"No," Worf said.
"Nope," Tasha said as she crossed her legs. "Nothing."
"Are you sure? We may be here a while," Geordi chimed in.
Tasha and Worf looked back at one another and nodded, almost as if they were attempting to oversell their answer.
"Yeah, we're good," Tasha said.
"Great," Worf added.
"Just peachy," Tasha said, plastering a huge, fake smile on her face.
Data tore his eyes away from his terminal. He locked eyes with Tasha and frowned.
"We may have had one or two-" Tasha began to say.
"Four," Worf interjected.
"Four-"
"Jumbo," Worf reminded her.
"Four jumbo Raktajino's before coming down to the holodeck," Tasha confessed.
Data was suddenly keenly aware of Worf's posture and Tasha's fidgeting.
"It's Totally Toffee and Hazelnut Raktajino season," Tasha squeaked out.
"With espresso whip," Worf sighed.
They were horrible embarrassed about having to admit that. Worf and Tasha lived for Raktajino. It was such a part of their routine that the two friends regularly partook in it before their shifts, after their workouts, and whenever they hung out outside of the office.
Seasonal Raktajino was a fusion of Klingon foods mixed with human custom – but one both Tasha and Worf had come to embrace.
"Oh those are so good!" Sonya said. "I drank one this morning and felt like I could do anything. But there's so much caffeine I had to-"
Sonya stopped. Her eyes went wide.
"Oh," Sonya said softly as realisation dawned.
Tasha and Worf nodded uncomfortably.
"Scratch the coffee run, this has become a higher priority," Geordi said as he waved Sonya back over to the main console.
Thirty minutes later, the situation had gone from uncomfortable to agonising.
"Any progress on that cold freeze theory?" Miles asked.
"Not unless you wish to be popsicle at your own wedding," Wesley replied.
Wesley was working on a theory to lower the temperature of the suit to a temp that would allow them to crack the suit off their bodies.
Meanwhile, Geordi and Data were focused on a sound wave frequency that they believed would disrupt the nanocytes in the suit and dissolve it.
The only problem was in finding the correct frequency that would both disrupt the suit and leave the occupant unharmed.
"Look, I hate to put the pressure on, but my bladder is about to burst," Riker said.
"Perhaps all that milk?" Worf teased.
Despite the cancelled coffee run, Riker had gone to the nearest replicator and downed three large glasses of cold milk.
"I like milk when I'm nervous. It's comforting!" Riker confessed.
Suddenly Riker snapped his fingers as he was struck with an idea.
"Oooo! Oooo! Could you lock on and beam the contents of our bladders out into-" Riker began to suggest.
"I'm going to stop you right there," Miles said as he put his hand up. "The answer is no."
"We're working as fast as we can guys, hang in there," Geordi said.
Tasha closed her eyes and grimaced.
Oh gods. No, no no! She thought, horrified.
"Sorry you've all got to pee," Sonya said. "Just think dry thoughts!"
"Actually, not a priority anymore," Tasha said.
She was mortified.
Wesley looked up from his computer. His face soured.
"My suit," Wes remarked in shock.
"I think by rights I've now claimed this as my suit," Tasha announced.
"Oh, you didn't," Geordi said.
"Oh please! I'm the one that has to sit in it!" Tasha snapped.
By noon the team was no closer to a solution. They were growing desperate and eager to try anything that might hold a solution – including a radical idea from the Astromycology lab.
"Lieutenant Robinson has assured me that this paste will eat through anything," Geordi said.
"Initial testing shows it was capable of destroying duranium on contact," Data advised.
"It ate duranium?" Miles asked in a panic.
"Relax!" Geordi said. "That's why we're going to use the emergency showers. Once we've got into the suit, we'll start the shower. It should immediately remove the paste before it can get to your skin."
No one looked confident.
"During the testing, it took nearly twenty minutes to penetrate the duranium sample," Data explained. "Do not worry. It took a full six minutes before it ate through human flesh."
Tasha looked concerned. She dropped her gaze to the floor for a few seconds as she mulled over the idea.
"We really don't have any other options?" she asked as she looked up.
She locked eyes with Data, desperately hoping he would have some flash of brilliance.
Data shook his head.
"No," he replied simply.
Out of options, the four trapped team members assembled inside the sealed lab testing area where Geordi had activated the emergency safety showers. All labs were equipped with them as they were a necessary precaution. On a Starship, one never knew when they might find themselves near a fire, a dangerous spore, or covered in coolant fluid.
Data, Geordi, Wes, and Beverly donned specialty protective gloves and shoes to apply the substance. Due to the nature of the product, it had to be housed in a static energy shield that kept it contained.
The substance would eventually eat through their gloves, but it would be long after they were done applying the product.
Geordi had put in place a temporary energy shield on the floor that would act as a collector for the product once the shower washed it away.
From outside the lab, Sonya pressed the release and the energy field holding the goo opened so they could apply it.
Wesley immediately wretched. Even Data could sense the product smelled foul.
"This is a most unpleasant odour," he remarked.
"Well next time Lieutenant Robinson makes a duranium eating goo, I'll ask him to give it a lavender scent," Geordi quipped.
"Let me know if you feel anything," Beverly advised as she smeared the goop all over Worf's suit.
Data said little as he applied the product to Tasha.
"You know this stuff is probably going to eat your clothes," Geordi warned.
Tasha closed her eyes and grumbled.
"It's fine. It's just fine," she muttered. "Already had enough embarrassment today. Not like things could possibly get worse at this point."
It took almost twenty minutes for them to cover their bodies in the product. Every possible inch had to be coated. By design, the suit covered them from neck down – including their hands, fingers, and feet. It was almost like a personal shield.
The suit also created a protective field around the head and face when activated. The user could tap a space next to the next in order to activate that function. It allowed air to pass through, but not temperatures, hazardous materials, or liquids. It was also impact resistant.
"You know this isn't how I pictured getting naked together," Riker grinned.
"You pictured us getting naked?" Worf asked.
Riker wiggled his eyebrows in response.
"Alright, I am starting the time now," Data announced.
The four of them stood there, covered in the smelly goop as they waited for it to work it's magic. Geordi was monitoring the energy field below to ensure it would capture all of the hazardous material.
Data was tasked with watching the rate of decay on the suit. It was both necessary and important that he activate the showers at the appropriate moment. Given the thickness of the suit, it required someone capable of observing time like Data did.
Meanwhile, Beverly had her tricorder out and was keeping an eye on their vitals.
"How's it going in there?" Beverly asked.
Tasha flashed her a thumbs up. The other three followed her lead. They were all trying to hold their breath given the disgusting smell that permeated every available inch of air.
Beverly's brow furrowed as she analysed the readings from her tricorder.
"I need you all to take a big, deep breath," Beverly instructed.
"Trying not to breathe," Worf said through gritted teeth.
Not in the mouth. He thought. Anything but that.
He was reluctant to speak too much lest the bitter taste of the goo get into his mouth and throat. It was bad enough having to smell it, he had no desire to have the taste of it linger on his tongue.
"Breathe," Beverly repeated in a slow, even voice.
She didn't want to panic them, but she was growing concerned.
Wesley clicked off the control that allowed for communication to be transmitted into the testing area.
"Mum?" he asked, sensing there was something up.
"They're heart rate has increased. Blood pressure too," Beverly shared. "Oxygen levels are decreasing."
"Atmospheric conditions in the room remain unchanged," Data reported.
That meant the problem wasn't the environment – it was the fact they weren't getting enough air.
All of a sudden, Commander Riker winced as if he were in pain.
"What's happening?" Beverly demanded as she reactivated the communications.
"Burns," Riker gasped.
"Tight," Tasha choked out.
Worf groaned and began to paw at his suit in an attempt to rip it off.
"I believe I may know what is happening," Data said.
His eyes were flitting back and forth across the computer as he watched with both fear and amazement at the readings displayed on the screen.
"Since we began the test, I have noticed an increase in kinetic energy in the suit," Data explained. "The computer has registered a 2.3-centimetre change in the thickness of the suit."
"We're feeding it?" Beverly asked.
"Excuse me," Wes said as took over the terminal from Data.
Everything in Wesley's brain was screaming that the situation unfolding before his very eyes was not possible.
And yet. Wes thought darkly.
"We have to stop," Wes declared.
Data activated the emergency safety shower. Once the substance had been cleaned away, Geordi trapped it inside the energy field.
As soon as it was clear, Beverly rushed in.
Worf, Commander Riker, Tasha, and Miles were all unsteady on their feet. They seemed weakened, drained from the experience.
Miles stumbled a bit before resting against the wall. Commander Riker simply flopped down against the back wall. Worf knelt down and closed his eyes in order to stop the room from spinning.
Tasha dropped to her feet, kneeling on the energy field.
"What's wrong?" Beverly asked as she scanned them.
"Hot," Tasha panted. "Dizzy."
"Crusher to Sickbay. I need a medical team down in Data's lab," Beverly ordered as she tapped her combadge.
"The nanocytes have entered their bloodstream," Beverly explained. "From there the nervous system and endocrine system. And it's spreading."
"What are the dangers?" Picard demanded.
"For now, I don't know," Beverly shrugged.
It was too early to tell. After leaving the lab, Beverly had transported all four patients back to Sickbay where they were currently resting. Thus far, there hadn't been anything to indicate the nanocytes were causing harm – they were simply present.
"I've got them all on a simple saline solution to keep them hydrated," Beverly advised. "That's really the only thing I've noticed. But that could just be from being stuck and hot."
Due to the suits, she'd been forced to use an IV through the neck. It was a rudimentary process, but one that she hoped would keep them stable.
"We're at a loss for options right now," Beverly said. "We need time, and they need rest. I'm not sure if it's the suit itself or the goo, but they're exhausted."
Jean-Luc sighed.
A simple test – one that should have been straightforward – had taken four of his senior officers out of commission.
"And you think they're stable enough to be out of Sickbay?" Picard inquired.
Beverly nodded.
"I can hook up a remote health monitoring device to track any changes in their vitals. And I'll want them back for scans this evening. But otherwise, I don't see any reason why they can't relax in their quarters," Beverly replied. "Might do them so good, too."
"You're leaving?" Tasha asked.
Data and Tasha had no sooner walked into her quarters when Data had announced he was going back down to his lab.
"I am needed in the lab," Data replied.
"You've said ten words to me since this happened," Tasha said as she gestured with her hand.
Data took an artificial breath as he weighed how to continue. He had little desire to fight, it was counterproductive to finding a solution.
However, Data did see merit in voicing his frustration at their predicament. After all, Tasha was always encouraging him to speak up.
"Two words," Data said.
Tasha didn't understand.
"Two words," Data repeated.
"What?" Tasha asked.
"Be safe," Data said, echoing his earlier request.
Tasha knew he was upset and decided to play it off with a genial attitude. She had a habit of falling back on humour to ease tension.
"I'm trapped in an impermeable suit. This, by definition, is the very safest I could possibly be," she grinned.
Data was not amused.
Tasha's shoulders slumped.
"I'm sorry," she apologised.
Tasha dropped her gaze to the floor where her foot was drawing a circle on the carpet.
"Why did you do it?" Data asked.
Tasha shrugged.
"I wanted to," Tasha confessed. "I waited. I waited until it had gone through all of the testing. Data, you have to believe I was trying to be cautious."
Tasha lifted her head to meet his eyes.
"Worf and Commander Riker had already-" Tasha began to say.
"You jumped from a dangerously tall platform in an experimental prototype," Data countered, cutting her off.
"When you put it like that," Tasha trailed off.
"That is an accurate assessment of the situation," Data argued.
Tasha was at a loss for words. It was hard enough arguing with Data when she didn't have anything to feel guilty for. Now she just felt wretched.
She had betrayed his trust, breaking not just a promise – but one of the deepest and longest standing issues in their relationship.
"Data, I didn't think-"
"No. You did not think," Data said, his voice unusually icy.
Tasha sighed.
"Look, you have every right to be furious with me but-" Tasha tried to say.
"Yes," Data interjected. "I do."
Tasha bit her lip and crossed her arms.
Really mucked it up this time, Yar. She told herself.
"How do I fix this?" Tasha asked.
Straight and to the point had always been her way.
"I do not know when or how we will be able to fix this," Data replied honestly. "Or if even it is possible."
The colour drained from Tasha's face. Her eyes began to water. Data noticed her hands were shaking and her lip was trembling.
She wanted to respond, but her mouth was dry.
"The suit!" Data said quickly.
He rushed forward and pulled Tasha into a tight embrace.
"The suit," Data assured her. "I do not know how we get you out of the suit. I am uncertain how long you will be trapped."
Data stepped back. Cupping her face, he brushed away her tears.
"The suit," Data said with a tender smile.
Tasha nodded in understanding.
"You may be stuck in there for a long time," Data advised. "But not as long as you will be stuck with me."
Data kissed Tasha's forehead before planting a chaste kiss on her lips.
"Now, stay here. Stay safe. I will be in the lab," Data ordered.
"Wes, can you come here and take a look at this?" Geordi asked.
Wesley, Data, and Geordi were all holed up in Data's lab as the combed through the information and schematics on the suit.
It was fast approaching five hours since the incident and they were no closer to finding a solution.
"Your suit is just too good," Geordi smirked.
He knew Wesley was feeling down about the situation.
"New technology always comes with a degree of complications," Data said, hoping to reassure him. "We will find a solution. Eventually."
Wesley scoffed.
"Yeah right," Wes lamented. "It's impossible."
"Wesley, I am…strongly motivated to find a solution," Data said before quickly adding. "And we will leave it at that."
He turned back to his computer and began typing away furiously, his fingers dancing across the console as he continued to search through all available information on nanocyte technology.
'Strongly motivated' didn't begin to cover Data's feelings on the matter. He was determined to find a solution to save Tasha – even if it meant working for the foreseeable future.
The door to the lab chimed.
A moment later, Reg Barclay stepped in. He stopped just inside the door and waved to the other three people in the lab.
"Hello," Reg said.
"What is it, Reg?" Geordi asked.
"I-I came to s-see if you n-n-needed help," Reg stammered.
"That's nice, Reg. Really, we appreciate the thought," Geordi replied.
Geordi set down a tablet next to the computer before stepping over to another station. He scrunched up his face for a moment, concentrating hard as he tried to remember what he'd come over for.
"There you are," Geordi said, grabbing a trident scanner. "Look, that's kind of you. But I think we've got enough cooks in this kitchen."
"I had a theory about t-the nanocytes," Reg offered. "I think I know how to-"
Geordi stopped and sighed in exasperation.
"Reg, please. Do me a favour. Type up a summary and send it to my inbox," Geordi ordered.
He didn't mean to be rude. But Reg Barclay was just one of many in a parade that had come in and out of the lab all morning with ideas and theories about how to fix the problem.
While well-intended, many of these people didn't have all the information nor the expertise necessary for such a project.
More than that, there were just too many of them. Geordi had encouraged them to summarise their proposals and send them to his inbox. It allowed him to filter through the onslaught of 'solutions' and sort what had potential from the duds of the bunch.
"Okay," Reg nodded.
He didn't want to be in the way.
After wishing them luck, Reg made a hasty retreat.
"Computer, activate lock on the lab and place a do not disturb message on the door," Geordi ordered.
As soon as Reg was in the corridor, he saw the blinking, repeated message pop up on the lab door.
Work in progress. Do not enter.
Determined to help, Reg set off to his quarters to immediately begin typing up his proposal.
Tasha Yar had never been any good at staying put – especially when she was hungry.
After radioing Data to advise that she was going to Ten Forward for lunch, Tasha had joined Worf and Commander Riker for a bite.
"How's things with Data?" Riker asked. "I couldn't help but notice some tension earlier."
"Some?" Worf asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Don't ask," Tasha said as she sat down at the table.
She sighed and ran her hand back through her hair.
"I'm so hungry," Tasha announced.
"I must admit that despite a large breakfast, I too am feeling peckish," Worf said.
"Peckish? I'm famished. I could eat an entire cow," Riker exclaimed.
"Then you came to the right place," Guinan said as she approached the table.
True to form, she had a prune juice, a tall glass of milk, and a green smoothie ready for three of her regular patrons.
"New uniforms? Or is this some fashion statement?" Guinan asked.
"Prototypes," Riker answered. "Designed by Wesley Crusher."
"Oh, do you like them?" Guinan inquired.
"You could say they've sort of grown on us," Worf said with his signature deadpan delivery.
Guinan had to step away to see to another table while the trio decided what they were going to order.
"What if they really are grown on us?" Riker asked. "As in, stuck. Forever."
His expression was one of genuine concern.
"That won't happen," Tasha said, feigning confidence. "They're going to figure this out. I don't think Data's going to stop working until he figures this out."
"They're not all bad," Worf chimed in. "We're invincible in these."
"Yes, but need I remind you we're all sitting in urine? And we can't shower!" Tasha whispered. "Not exactly a great trade off there."
"I'm really trying not to think about that," Riker said.
He brought his glass of milk to his lips and then stopped. All three of them suddenly pushed their respective beverages toward the centre of the table and away from their reach.
Guinan returned a moment later to take their order.
"Ham," Riker said with confidence.
"Ham omelette? Ham sandwich? Ham steak or-" Guinan asked to clarify.
"Ham. A whole spiral, delicious, glazed with brown sugar and apricot jam ham," Riker ordered.
"Are you feeling alright?" Guinan asked.
"Ravenous," Riker grinned. "Ooo! And cherry pie. Better bring the whole pie."
Guinan eyed the three with concern.
"You all are just gonna eat a whole ham and a pie? Rough day?" Guinan asked.
"That's just for me," Riker clarified.
"I'll take the Klingon protein family meal with extra Grapok sauce," Worf requested. "But go easy on Bregit lung. I've got to fit in the suit."
Guinan raised an eyebrow as she studied the three.
"You're not putting me on?" she asked.
"No," Worf insisted.
"Really, we're not pranking you," Tasha assured her.
"I mean, I'll serve you whatever you want. I just want to make sure you aren't sick or under the influence of some alien technology," Guinan explained.
"I think the suits make us hungry," Tasha thought aloud. "I've been starving ever since this morning."
"We did exert considerable energy on the holodeck," Worf said.
"And we did a lot of physical activity," Tasha said in agreement.
Suddenly she frowned.
"Wait, you just said that, didn't you?" she groaned as she smacked her own forehead. "Sorry. Brain fog. From hunger."
Tasha turned and looked up at Guinan.
"My usual Tuesday, but double it," Tasha ordered. "And a nuclear nosh bean burger with chips."
Worf gave her a look – a double of her usual really meant 4 orders as Tasha always ate a double helping on Tuesdays.
"What?" Tasha demanded. "I'm hungry!"
After polishing off the last of his pipius claws, Worf let out a massive belch.
"Good food," he remarked.
From her place at the bar, Guinan had noticed a distinct change in their behaviour. The table had gone from hungry and lethargic to practically giddy. They weren't intoxicated, but they were certainly uninhibited.
Tasha fell back against her chair and sighed, content.
"I feel great," she remarked.
"Me too," Riker agreed as he raised his glass.
"I feel like I could do anything," Worf said.
Tasha sat up suddenly. There was a wicked gleam in her eyes.
"We should do something," she urged. "I'm itching to burn off some of this energy."
It was true. She felt uncomfortable and jittery – almost like drinking too much Raktajino before bed.
"Holodeck?" Riker suggested.
Tasha's face lit up for a moment before her shoulders slumped.
"I can't. I-" she bit her lip and trailed off. "It's just that I promised Data I would be careful, and I don't know how he'd take me romping around fighting holographic monsters or cliff jumping."
The last thing she wanted to do was further exacerbate the situation by chasing an adrenaline rush. After all, that's what had gotten her into this mess in the first place.
"What about the fitness centre?" Worf suggested. "We could simply work off some of this energy with the machines."
"Or the bag," Tasha grinned.
Twenty minutes later, the three of them were on deck eleven taking full advantage of the onboard fitness centre. Commander Riker had opted to lift weights. With his newfound confidence in the suit, he was keen to show off.
And it seemed to be working to his advantage.
Two Lieutenants from the Operations team were whispering and smirking to one another as Riker made a show of his bicep curls.
After finishing with those, he decided to move over to one of the machines. Riker adjusted the machine to a weight much heavier than his typical level.
He wiggled his eyebrows and flashed the two a grin before effortlessly pumping nearly three-hundred kilograms.
"You should see what I can do with my glutes," Riker said.
The two Lieutenants practically fell over laughing.
It seemed Will Riker had misread the situation.
"Oh, oh I see," he realised. "Is there something in my teeth?"
Lieutenant Paulsen shook her head.
"What's with the getup?" she asked through a fit of laughter.
Riker glanced down at the suit. He understood it was a ridiculous getup for the fitness centre – they probably thought he was some sort of egomaniacal meathead showing up in a skin-tight black and silver suit.
Or a superhero wannabe. He thought.
"It's a prototype that I'm testing for the Engineering department," Riker clarified.
"Whatever you say, Captain Number One!" Paulsen said as she gave him a small salute.
But Riker wasn't about to let them bring him down. He had discovered that he could lift more than he previously thought. The suit wasn't just making him feel good – it was actually making him stronger.
Riker upped the weight by another twenty-five kilograms and found the machine glided with ease.
Fifty.
One hundred.
He was able to press more than three times his normal limit.
"Hey! Hey! Worf, T, check this out!" Riker hollered.
But Worf and Tasha were too busy dancing around the mat as they dodged jabs from one another. Technically, there was a heavy bag. And occasionally people would do some light training in the fitness centre – light jabs, movement exercises.
But it wasn't properly equipped for sparring. The type of training that took place in the fitness centre was more about learning proper form – not actually knocking one another around the mat.
Worf and Tasha had brought their gloves from home. At Tasha's suggestion, they had activated the energy shield from the suit to protect their heads.
It was perfect.
"What's the matter? Can't keep up?" Tasha huffed.
"Thinking about all the ways I can wipe that smirk off your face," Worf replied.
"Have to catch me first," Tasha teased as she dodged a jab.
Riker watched in astonishment. They were moving fast.
Quite fast.
"I want to join!" Riker said as he activated his own shield.
Now the problem with sparring outside of the holodeck meant the that normal safety parameters that were in place did not exist in this environment.
The three of them were so engrossed in their own game they didn't even notice Lieutenant Hawk approach.
Worf turned and wound up for his kick.
Though Lieutenant Hawk was one of the best trained officers when it came to hand-to-hand combat, he was no match for Worf and the extra oomph the suit provided.
Worf's foot impacted Hawk's torso – sending him flying backward into the equipment with such force that he broke one of the cable machines.
"Oh my gods," Tasha gasped as she caught Worf's foot.
Riker, Worf, and Tasha rushed over to the injured Lieutenant Hawk.
He wasn't moving.
"Medical team to the fitness centre," Tasha said, tapping her combadge.
Across the ship, Miles was taking a verbal lashing from Keiko.
"I really think you ought to be in Sickbay," Keiko insisted.
"I'm fine!" Miles shrugged as if the conversation were over.
He dove back into his bowl of seafood chowder. It was the fourth one he'd eaten since they sat down for a late lunch. That wasn't even counting the piece of peach pie he'd had a snack nor the dish of baked apples.
And Keiko didn't even want to think about the entire tray of cheddar biscuits Miles had demolished even before starting on the chowder.
As he shovelled food into his mouth, Miles could feel Keiko was staring at him.
"Doctor Crusher released us. She said we're fine!" Miles said.
"That was before," Keiko argued.
She sighed and sat down in the chair next to Miles. Keiko reached out and put her hand on his bicep.
"I'm worried about you, Miles," Keiko said, pleading for him to go back to Doctor Crusher.
But Miles would hear none of it. He felt far too good to be concerned with the effects of the suit on his body.
"What's it going to hurt? Hmm?" Keiko pressed. "Doctor Crusher could make sure everything checks out. If it does, you'll be back here in no time."
"I'm eating," Miles said as he gestured down at his bowl.
"You've been eating for an hour!" Keiko huffed as she got up from the table. "I'm really worried about you."
Miles rolled his eyes. He reached up and tapped the side of his suit near his neck to activate the energy field. It flashed on and encased his cranium.
"Miles!" Keiko said.
"Damn, I was hoping it would block sound," Miles grumbled.
"Well if you won't go to Sickbay, I'll bring Doctor Crusher here," Keiko declared.
As soon as the door shut, Miles snagged his bowl of chowder up. Holding it protectively, he set out in search of a judgement-free zone.
"Don't you worry. I'm going to find somewhere we can be alone," Miles said to his bowl.
"Fourteen broken bones between his hand, arm, and ribs," Beverly reported. "A moderate head wound. He's sedated and recovering from surgery but it's going to be two weeks before he'll be up and around again. And he'll need physical therapy for the hand."
Captain Picard closed his eyes and prayed for patience.
Lieutenant Hawk was a fine officer.
He was also one of the primary Night Watch commanders aboard. In fact, next to his senior officers, Jean-Luc regarded Lieutenant Hawk as one of the most competent officers on the ship.
Not that any of that influenced Jean-Luc's feelings on the matter. He would feel equally as horrible were it one of the cleaners from Operations lying over in Sickbay.
Rather, Captain Picard knew the reality of an officer like Hawk being out of commission was a loss they would feel on the Bridge. There would be a gap in the duty schedule for the foreseeable future and Captain Picard wasn't sure he trusted Commander Riker to see to the problem.
At least not in his current condition.
"Sir, I took the liberty of conducting another set of scans on Commander Riker, Lieutenant Worf, and Lieutenant Yar," Beverly said.
Jean-Luc raised an eyebrow, signalling for Beverly to continue.
"Professor Keiko Ishikawa also stopped by my office to report some strange behaviour on the part of Chief O'Brien," Beverly informed him.
"Such as?" Jean-Luc prompted.
"Increased appetite," Beverly answered.
Jean-Luc leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap.
"Well that hardly sounds like grounds for concern," Jean-Luc shrugged.
"They're all displaying the same behaviour," Beverly said. "I think it's connected to the nanocytes in their bodies."
"Is it dangerous?" Picard inquired.
Beverly shrugged.
"Not inherently," Beverly said.
There was an unmistakable sense of uncertainty in her voice that Jean-Luc couldn't ignore.
"Commander Riker reported eating an entire ham. That's over twenty-thousand calories – double what high-performance athletes consume in a day," Beverly remarked. "And that's not even counting what he ate with it!"
While the behaviour was certainly strange, it was hardly what Jean-Luc would consider alarming.
"They're all like this," Beverly explained.
"Then I'll put a command authorisation on their replicators and put in a requisition for larger uniforms," Picard quipped.
Beverly's face soured.
"This isn't funny. Their bodies are using this. It's like they need that to fuel their bodies," Beverly went on. "Right now, they're not showing any health concerns, but I do worry about the long-term side effects of this kind of energy need."
Beverly bit her lip.
"Sir, I tested their strength output and they're demonstrating increased physical strength. And according to what witnesses in the fitness centre observed, increased speed as well," Beverly advised.
Captain Picard sat back and rested his hands on his abdomen.
"So they've donned suits that make them faster, stronger, and invincible to damage. They can eat whatever they please without any negative consequences to their waistlines," Picard said in disbelief. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm struggling to see what's problematic."
Beverly put her hands on her hips.
"This isn't funny!" she insisted. "Their bodies are flooded with nanocytes. We don't know what the long-term consequences of this may entail!"
Jean-Luc knew she was right. While these advantages seemed like a dream, the fact remained that four officers were trapped in these prototype suits.
"And is Mr O'Brien demonstrating the same behaviour?" Picard asked.
Beverly raised her eyebrows as if to indicate there was more to the story.
"I don't know," Beverly confessed. "It seems after his disagreement with Professor Ishikawa, Mr O'Brien made himself scarce."
She explained that there had been a brief run-in between O'Brien and the on-duty supervisory officer in Main Engineering in which she advised either O'Brien needed to ditch the bowl of chowder or leave. He wasn't on duty, and it was a hazard having to step over him as he sat curled on the floor eating under the schematics display.
"I've had a team searching for him ever since," Beverly said. "They found his combadge in the canteen half an hour ago. Otherwise, he's managed to elude them."
It was odd.
"Well, normally I'd suggest we simply shut down the replicators to draw him out," Picard said.
Chief O'Brien would have to enter his command authorisation codes to fix it.
"But I doubt that would hold the Chief up long," Picard lamented.
O'Brien was far too talented at fixing things – particularly replicator and transporter systems. There would be no way a team could intercept him in time.
"In fact, they all seem to be showing a disregard for safety, critical thinking," Beverly said. "I think the nanocytes might be interfering with the frontal lobe of the brain. Cognitive abilities."
"So a loss of intelligence?" Picard asked, now suddenly alarmed.
"More like recklessness," Beverly clarified.
Recklessness on a starship could be deadly.
"I'm worried they may pull something like O'Brien if we don't nip this in the bud," Beverly warned.
"Detained?" Tasha asked, incredulous.
"Captain, that's unnecessary," Riker protested.
Worf simply scoffed.
"Hardly," Picard replied in a terse voice. "I'm asking, no, ordering you to remain in your quarters for the time being."
Commander Riker laughed this off. Tasha rolled her eyes. Worf crossed his arms and flashed the Captain a highly disapproving look.
"We don't know yet what the effects of this are," Beverly said, hoping to soothe their frayed nerves.
"This is ridiculous!" Tasha argued. "Just because the suits make us better doesn't mean we're suddenly a threat!"
"Agreed!" Worf barked as he slammed his fist down on the exam table.
It tore right through the edge, sending a chunk of the table to the floor.
For a moment no one said anything.
"Shouldn't we be using this more productively?" Riker suggested.
"You're all restricted to quarters until we know more," Picard said.
Tasha looked outraged. She opened her mouth to protest, but Captain Picard put up a hand to stop her.
"Shouldn't your reaction to this be enough evidence that the three of you are clearly not in your right mind?" Picard asked.
Worf inhaled deeply, hoping against hope that the musky scent of his incense would calm him. It had been three hours since Captain Picard had ordered them confined to quarters.
Worf had initially tried to pass the time with some Klingon yoga.
It just wasn't enough.
Feeling destitute, Worf had then spent all of ten minutes bouncing a ball against the wall. Things were going great until he started to really get into it – eventually using enough force to break right through the wall and into his bedroom.
Resigned that anything involving physical activity carried the risk of damage, Worf had opted to try meditation.
And despite his best efforts, it left him unsatisfied.
Commander Riker wasn't faring much better.
"Captain Picard said I was confined to quarters. He didn't say it was solitary confinement," Riker said.
"I have appointments," Deanna insisted.
She had stopped by to check on how Riker was doing. After a cup of tea, the two had played a few rounds of cards before Deanna had made to go.
Deanna could sense he was itching for adventure and company – but she had an obligation to her scheduled sessions first.
"I can stop back later," Deanna offered.
"Or you could stay," Riker said as he brought her hand to his lips.
"I have to go," Deanna said.
She slipped away from his grasp. He could be surprisingly like an octopus when he wanted to get his arms on someone.
"Promise me you'll stop back?" Riker asked.
This time his request contained no trace of playful banter. It was genuine. Deanna could sense that despite the adrenaline and dopamine coursing through his system, there was a fear of being isolated and alone.
"Of course," she smiled. "Sit tight. I'll see you later."
Though Commander Riker was struggling with being alone, Miles relished in finally finding a place all to himself.
It had been no small feat to load up two portable thermoses with chowder and haul them (complete with a bag full of cheddar rolls) down fourteen decks to a rarely used engineering access shaft in the belly of the Enterprise.
But it had been worth it.
Miles was tired of being asked to leave Main Engineering or the Transporter Room. He was fed up with being paged to Sickbay. And he certainly wasn't going back to get an earful from Keiko.
No, here in this Jefferies tube, Miles could finally get some quality alone time with his beloved meal.
With eager anticipation, Miles unscrewed the top of the thermos and carefully poured a bowlful out.
"Just you and me," Miles said.
He closed his eyes and made a noise of pleasure as he brought a spoonful to his lips.
But his moment of peace was not designed to last.
There was a high-pitched noise from a fast sonic driver. A moment later, the panel to the left dropped off with a resounding clang.
"Chief?" Lieutenant Olivet asked, poking her head in.
"Can't a man just enjoy a bowl of chowder!" Miles screeched.
Tasha was on edge all afternoon. Chewing on her fingernails, she'd skimmed through the weekly reports before pacing around the room.
Data had needed to step away from the lab for a bit and had figured it was as good a time as any to check on Tasha.
He was planning to give her an update on the progress – or lack thereof – as well as ensure she was minding the Captain's order.
The door slid and Data stepped inside.
"Tasha, I have-"
Data wasn't able to finish his sentence before he was knocked back to the carpet in the corridor as Tasha tackled him.
"Hi," she grinned.
Data blinked up at Tasha in surprise.
She'd never before had the strength to take him down like that.
Must be the suit. Data realised.
"Perhaps we should get out of the corridor before people start to stare?" Data suggested.
To his surprise, Tasha simply giggled. It was like she wasn't even phased by the situation. In spite of her typically reserved and private nature, the nanocytes had filled her brain with enough dopamine to unleash a devil-may-care attitude.
"Tasha, I believe the suit-" Data began to advise.
"I don't think it's really that bad," Tasha said as she sat up.
She glanced down at the sleek black material with delight.
"I feel so good. Like I could do anything," Tasha said.
"Tasha-" Data protested.
The rest of his statement went unsaid as Tasha's lips crashed against his own. It took Data 1.4 seconds to register what was happening and to overcome his shock at her sudden change in behaviour.
He put his hands on her shoulders to try and stop her – but she was too strong.
For once, Tasha and Data were on the same level when it came to physicality.
After a few seconds, Tasha sat up. Breathlessly, she flashed him a wicked grin.
"How would you like to have dinner?" Data asked. "I am certain you are hungry."
Data felt like a ragdoll as Tasha yanked him to his feet and pulled him inside. It was the kind of force that Data had rarely experienced.
"Oh I'm hungry alright," Tasha growled.
Data was completely stunned as she gripped his chin, eying him like a predator sizing up a meal. Data's breath hitched as Tasha rocked against him.
"The replicator is that way," Data tried, hoping to divert her attention.
"Some things you can't get from a replicator," Tasha said in a heady voice.
Data swallowed.
Hard.
Tentatively, Data rested his hands on her things.
Poor choice. He realised the moment his fingertips made contact.
Under normal circumstances, there was a part of his brain that would find this skin-tight black ensemble appealing. But this was hardly the time or place. And it was evident Tasha wasn't in her right mind.
"Tasha, I believe you are under the influence of the nanocytes in your body," Data theorised aloud. "I would like to help but the suit-"
"You don't have to do anything," Tasha said wildly, grinning as she felt his sexuality programme activate.
Data had some control – more than most. But it wasn't entirely under his control. There were times things happened naturally.
"Just stay right here," Tasha whispered as she nuzzled his face. "Right here and I'm sure you can more than fulfil my-"
She paused long enough for an ardent kiss.
"Let's make babies," she said eagerly before capturing his lips again.
Alarm bells were ringing in Data's mind.
Suddenly she bit her lip and a small noise of panic. Tasha closed her eyes and rocked against Data and felt…. nothing.
Horrified, she glanced down between them and then back up at Data.
Tasha gripped his hips firmly and ground against him as her throat grew tight.
Data put his hand on her shoulder to stop her.
"The suit prevents the transference of any kind of, well, pressure," Data settled on.
Tasha dropped her full weight against Data's chest and groaned in frustration as Data hesitantly pet her back.
It was strange, because she could sense the contact points between them, but the shield prevented her from actually feeling any of it.
"I have to get out of this," Tasha grumbled.
"We share that desire," Data assured her.
Tasha wrapped Data in a gentle embrace.
"I'm sorry, I am so sorry," she apologised. "I don't know what came over me. It was like this-"
Tasha grimaced.
"Instinct," she said, embarrassed.
"For strictly scientific reasons, may inquire if this instinct is a sense you have for the act or is it-"
"You," Tasha said, cutting him off.
She hadn't felt this way when she'd been around Worf or Commander Riker.
"You," Tasha repeated as she twisted her fingers into the back of Data's hair. "I just want climb on you and-"
Tasha closed her eyes and attempted to push away the thought. Her hand unclenched, releasing the hair at the nape of Data's neck.
"I should stop before I get too worked up," Tasha declared.
Data had offered to stay for dinner, but Tasha had insisted he go. Not only did she want him working on a solution, but she also wasn't certain being in close proximity was wise given her current condition.
So Data had returned to the lab where he found Geordi and Wesley fast at work.
"What happened to you?" Geordi asked, noticing Data's mussed hair.
Data's eyes went wide. His hand shot up and he quickly smoothed down his tousled tendrils.
Geordi smirked.
"Looks like you had a bit of a tumble," Geordi teased.
"Yeah, with a Klingon Targ," Wesley chortled.
"Much to someone's chagrin that option is 'off the menu' for the time being," Data said.
"Well that explains the biometric readings," Wesley said.
That was one aspect of their research Data was not going to share with Tasha. Wes and Geordi had suspected something was up upon detecting the increase in temperature, blood flow, and heart rate detected twenty minutes earlier.
Data's dishevelled appearance had only confirmed their theory.
"I don't want to poke fun at you, but it's interesting to know the nanocyte activity is influencing such behaviour," Geordi said.
When Wesley slipped away to grab a bite at the canteen, Data finally felt comfortable enough to talk about the experience.
"Geordi, these nanocytes are doing more than simply influencing behaviour," Data said.
Geordi continued typing as he listened to Data.
"Oh?" Geordi inquired.
"Tasha was like a wild animal," Data said, still stunned from the experience. "She described the experience as if she were driven by instinct."
"To eat you?" Geordi quipped dryly.
The joke was lost on Data.
"To breed," Data whispered.
Geordi stopped typing and shot Data a look.
"Oh," Data nodded, realising Geordi had already understood that.
"Maybe this suit's a good thing then," Geordi suggested as he turned back to his computer.
Geordi could practically hear Data frown behind him.
"I just mean it's stopped you two from making any little new nanocytes for the time being," Geordi teased.
By 20:00 hours, Deanna still had not returned. She'd paged Commander Riker to advise that she'd received a request for an emergency session and needed to see to a client. Lieutenant Olivet's three-year-old had been struggling at bedtime.
Life on a starship could be difficult for children.
The boy had started formal nursery school and the separation anxiety had been a lot for the wee lad to handle.
Already by the age of three, he'd spent nearly two-thirds of his life on the Enterprise – and that had included some rather terrifying moments for a tiny child.
To make matters worse, Lieutenant Olivet's wife was currently away on temporary assignment to the USS Bonchune. It was hard enough parenting alone at a time like that. But for a three-year-old, it was like his whole world was crashing in.
He'd grown increasingly nonverbal therefore Deanna's skills as an empath were critical for bridging communication between mum and her baby boy.
Though Commander Riker understood this, he felt he was also needing Deanna.
Or rather, companionship or some form.
For whatever reason, he'd been struggling with his own separation anxiety ever since slipping on the suit. Under normal circumstances, Will would be out enjoying the evening with his friends.
They were his circle, his closest companions.
Stuck in isolation felt like being separated from his herd.
Riker suddenly sat up and tapped his combadge.
"Worf? How you holding up?" Riker inquired.
There was an indistinguishable grumble on the receiving end.
Riker chortled.
"This is unbearable," Worf groaned. "I am experiencing an unexplainable urge to prowl."
"Prowl and eat," Riker commented as his stomach growled.
He tapped his combadge off.
"Computer, open a channel to Lieutenants Worf, Yar, and Chief O'Brien," Riker ordered as he stepped over to the screen built into the wall.
It took a few seconds for everyone to come online.
"Sir?" Tasha asked as she popped onscreen. "Has there been any word from the Captain?"
Riker shook his head.
Miles's shoulders slumped.
"I'm hungry," Riker declared.
"Yeah? Join the club," Miles snapped.
Keiko understood he now had increased consumption needs. What she couldn't tolerate was Miles's desire to spend all of those extra calories on cheddar biscuits. No one was meant to eat that much cheese.
"I could go for a nibble," Tasha said.
"Ten Forward?" Worf suggested.
"It is kebab night," Riker announced.
Guinan's build-your-own kebab nights had been a big hit with the crew. She offered dozens of flavours and ingredients to choose from ranging from the more traditional options like grilled meats, fresh mint, and garlic to exciting fusions like pineapple and salmon, grilled bananas with melon, and even Risian lobster and baby corn.
Whether vegetarian, carnivore, or one looking to follow traditional Bajoran religious dietary customs – Guinan was able to provide flavour and variety for every need.
"Now we're talking," Miles said as he rubbed his hands together manically.
Less than ten minutes later, the four met up outside the door to Ten Forward.
"Looking sharp as always, my Klingon friend," Riker grinned as Worf stepped off the lift.
"Nice digs," Miles said.
"You should have planned ahead so we didn't match," Worf replied without missing a beat.
"Are you going to talk all night, or can we eat?" Tasha asked.
"After you," Riker said, motioning to the door.
Tasha stepped forward and froze.
"What is it?" Miles asked.
Tasha's mouth had gone dry. She whipped around and bit down on her thumb, weighing the cost of what they were about to do.
"Captain Picard asked us to stay put," Tasha said, feeling a sudden pang of guilt. "Hell, he ordered us confined to quarters."
"Like Jean-Luc Picard never disobeyed a direct order?" Riker asked sarcastically.
Tasha was chewing on her lip.
"That's different," Tasha countered.
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her arms out in an effort to try and ease some tension.
"We've all been feeling cooped up. Trapped," Riker pressed. "It's not like we're hurting anyone."
"We just came to eat," Miles said. "Stretch our legs a bit."
Worf glanced down at the other three.
"Speak for yourself. I came to destroy the pineapple salmon," Worf said with a dangerous gleam in his eye.