Author's Note: This story began as a wish that the installation of Data's emotion chip had been handled differently. Therefore, the Next Generation movies haven't been taken into account. Since the Picard series began while this was still a work in progress, that, too, isn't taken into account. This was a tale that refused to leave me alone until it was written, however, so I persevered. I hope at least a few people out there enjoy reading it as must as I enjoyed writing it. And without further ado, chapter one.

Part I

Regret for the things we did can be tempered by time;
it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable. ~ Sydney J. Harris

Chapter One

Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 50531.7. It has been nearly six months since I assumed command of the Hawking, and thus far I consider myself very fortunate in regards to the ship and crew. Commander Kural in particular has been both an invaluable officer and, I believe I may safely say, a friend. It was largely through his efforts that many of the issues I initially faced as the first android captain in Starfleet were resolved as quickly and smoothly as they were.

It has also been nearly two months since I first installed the emotion chip, and some of the results have been... unexpected. I find myself living less and less in the present as my memories become more and more overwhelming. Having never known anything else, it never occurred to me that perfect recall could become a burden, but the weight of it is increasingly unmanageable. When I look to the past, I see nothing but a collection of missed opportunities and regrets – and yet all too often I am unable to stop myself from revisiting and reliving these memories again and again.

Today this is particularly difficult. Perfect recall also means that I can never forget an anniversary, however painful. I allow myself to hope that tomorrow will be better, though I have found that hope is also a surprisingly problematic emotion.

The door chime to Data's ready room sounded, and for a moment he indulged in thoughts of telling whoever it was to go away. Among the less-anticipated effects of the chip were moments when he simply wanted to be alone, without any definite reason why. As he had earlier, he considered turning off the chip for the remainder of the day, but again discarded the idea. It was an utterly irrational concept, but he felt as though that would be somehow unfair – as though his experience of grief and remorse, however unknown to anyone else, might somehow help him atone.

"Come in," he said, and though his hesitation had been brief, he suspected that it would still not go unnoticed. When his first officer entered, he was sure of that, and for a moment couldn't hide a faintly guilty look.

"The personnel reports you requested, sir," Arzin Kural said, handing over a datapad and standing properly at attention. Arzin was an unjoined Trill, quite young for the position he held, but Data had never regretted selecting him as first officer despite his relative inexperience. Whereas even now some of those aboard had difficulty in approaching Data, it was hard to imagine anyone having a similar issue with Arzin, and the two of them had so far made a useful team.

Data checked over the information quickly, nodding. "Excellent work, Commander, as usual."

"Thank you, sir." He hesitated a moment, uncertain, but soon plunged ahead. "Sir, if I might ask – are you all right?"

It did not occur to Data to take the easy way out and dismiss the Trill's concerns. "This is – a difficult day for me," he admitted. "It is the second anniversary of the day I lost someone close to me."

Concern filled Arzin's face. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. Someone you served with?"

"Yes, on the Enterprise."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

From anyone else this might have been a mere formality, an offer made purely from politeness, but Data knew that Arzin meant it. Had his life been different, he might have become an excellent ship's counselor instead of a skilled astrophysicist. "I do not believe so, no. But I do thank you for your concern, Arzin. I will be fine."

Arzin nodded, though he did not seem entirely reassured. "Don't hesitate to let me know if you need anything, Captain. I'd be glad to help."

"I will keep that in mind." He managed a hint of a smile as Arzin left.


The red alert is still active as Dr. Crusher's voice, tense and concerned, echoes over the comm link. "Crusher to Data. You'd better get down to Sickbay right away."

"On my way, Doctor." Every step of his hurried journey is there, every face he passes along the way. Without knowing what to expect, he is somehow not surprised at what he finds.

On a medtable, separated from the rest of the room by a partition, there is a crumpled form, Dr. Crusher standing close by. Geordi stands by the door and speaks quietly to Data as he enters. "I'm sorry, Data. There was a plasma leak, it all happened too fast."

Data is already walking over to the medtable. "All I can do is keep her comfortable," the doctor says as he comes into her view. "It won't be much longer now."

At first the form on the table does not appear to be seriously injured. Only as he draws closer does he see that one side of her body is horribly burned, blackened and twisted beyond repair or recognition. He observes this with as much emotion as though he was looking at a destroyed tricorder. He can do nothing else.

Yet his programming still prompts him to offer what comfort he can, and he speaks to her gently as he leans closer. "Maya. I am here." His hand closes with great care over hers, cautious though this hand is untouched, and she turns slightly to look at him.

"Data," she breathes, barely a whisper. She pauses, charred lungs struggling to draw in air. "Sorry... I didn't get... out of the way.. f-faster." Her lips continue to move for a moment, soundlessly, but Data knows what she is saying and knows also that he can make no reply.

For an endless moment, he hesitates. "I am here," he says again, because he can no longer remain silent.

One dark, intact eye meets his, and for the briefest of instants she smiles the slight, wry smile he has seen so often. Her fingers tighten on his and she draws another strained breath to speak. But instead she sighs and is still. He watches the light fade from her gaze, feels her hand slip away.

He waits for grief, but there is nothing there.


The comm link beeped, and it took Data the briefest of instants to remember that he was not still in that moment in the Enterprise sickbay. "Sorry to disturb you, captain," Arzin's voice said. "We've just received a communique from Starfleet, your eyes only."

"Put it through, Commander," he replied, faintly surprised that his voice sounded steady.

The communique was from Admiral Nechayev, advising the Hawking that their scheduled visit to Lya Station Alpha to pick up new equipment and personnel was postponed due to the outbreak of fresh hostilities at the nearby border with Cardassia. This was not the first time they'd had a last-minute reroute, and given the current tensions it wasn't likely to be the last. As yet the danger still seemed very far away, almost unreal, but he had a responsibility to his crew for as long as he might hold his current position, and he would not neglect this for any reason. The last thing he needed was to add any further regrets to his life.

And now he had a communication of his own to send, leaning forward and typing rapidly on the console. In a few moments Geordi's welcome face was on the screen, and for the first time in many days, Data's smile – still a very new thing for him – felt genuine. "It is good to see you, Geordi," Data said, those few words affecting him profoundly.

"Same here, buddy. Even though I'm sure you've been rerouted, too."

"Yes, we have. It may be some time before we can again meet face to face."

"I'm afraid so." Geordi paused a moment, studying his friend. They'd met in person just once since the installation of the chip, but Geordi could still recognize the signs that Data was feeling overwhelmed by unfamiliar emotion. "Are you all right?"

Now it was Data's turn to hesitate. As much as he wanted to tell the entire truth, that would almost certainly never be possible, and the more honest he was as to his feelings, the more that usually seemed to upset his friend. "I am... managing. I was aware that the adjustment would be challenging, but – it does not seem to get any easier."

"It hasn't been that long, Data," Geordi said, encouragingly. "You just need to give it some more time. And... today can't be an easy day."

"No. It is not." There was some measure of comfort in the admission, at least. No one else could truly understand the depths of Data's responsibility, but Geordi had known Maya and been her friend.

"I miss her too, Data," he said, quietly. "You know, just yesterday I found a new article on symmetric warp fields and the first thing I thought was, 'I have got to show this to Maya.' It always seems to be the little things like that that hit you the hardest."

"Yes. I remember you saying how much you missed being able to call your mother for no particular reason."

"That was pretty hard to get used to. Well, I'm still not used to it, exactly. It just is what it is and you have to accept it." He paused, studying Data with some concern. "But you know you have to try and think of the good times, too. Remember- " He broke off and smiled. "Remember when Maya was invited to read her paper on multiphase autocontainment fields at that engineering conference on Minerva Station? I don't think I ever saw her so nervous. Not that she ever quite admitted to being nervous, but she must have practiced that speech a dozen times and she still didn't seem to think it was any good. But once she was actually there on the stage... it looked like she forgot all about the rest of the audience and was just practicing in front of us again."

"She did," Data said with a smile, then seemed to rouse himself slightly and focus on Geordi again. "She did not seem nervous at all. It was a very good presentation."

Geordi nodded agreement. "And when we got back we all went to Ten-Forward to celebrate and Guinan made one of those amazing drinks of hers. What did she call it again?"

"A Warp Bubble Rainbow Fizz."

Right, Warp Bubble Rainbow Fizz." His smile became more thoughtful. "You know, Maya was never all that comfortable being the center of attention, but I think she was all right with it then."

"Yes. I believe she was very happy that day."

"That's what you have to try to remember, Data," Geordi said, gently.

"Thank you, Geordi. I am grateful you were always a friend to her, just as you have always been to me. It meant a great deal to her."

"I'm glad. She was a good person."

"I am sorry I was not a better friend to you." Data's voice sounded strained.

Geordi shook his head, leaning forward. "Let's not start that again. You have always done whatever you could to be a good friend, and believe me, that's more than a lot of people do. You never let me down. Or Maya, either."

Data shook his head, but before he could find any words, the comm link sounded and Arzin's voice was heard. "Captain, we have an unidentified vessel on long-range sensors, heading this way."

"On my way," Data replied automatically, before turning back to the monitor. "Geordi -"

"Go, duty calls," he replied at once, then added, seriously, "And be careful, okay?"

"You as well." He spoke quietly, feeling a quick pang of fear as he leaned over to break the connection. Perhaps he should not have left the Enterprise, however glad he had been of the opportunity to command the Hawking. Now he had to worry about his remaining old friends from a distance instead of being there to help them in these increasingly perilous times.

But he also had his crew and his new friends to look after, he reminded himself, striding purposefully out to the bridge. "Report."

Arzin spoke up crisply, having already vacated the command chair. "The ship is 3.2 light-years away, moving at warp five. On its present course, it will intercept us in just over twenty minutes."

"Yellow alert." The warning lights began to flash as Data took his seat, turning to the young officer at the sensors. "Ensign Abramson, do you have any further information on the ship?"

"Judging by the size, I'd say some sort of scout, sir," Abramson replied, making some adjustments to the sensor array. This was one area where the ship easily rivaled any others, being equipped with the finest sensors available. "It looks like... Sir, I believe it's a Cardassian scout. Hideki class."

The tension on the bridge was immediate, not something even Data would ever have missed. The Cardassians and the Dominion separately had done more to destabilize the area than any opponent in living memory, and it was only recently that the two had officially joined forces. Data thought briefly of Worf, now stationed in the thick of the action at Deep Space Nine. The Klingon might be glad of the chance of a glorious death in honorable combat, but it was far more usual for a single death to mean nothing. And in any case, the last thing Data wanted was to see any name he recognized on a casualty list.

"Is the scout still on an intercept course?"

"Yes, sir," Abramson said. "But given what we know about their sensors I'm not sure we'd be within range for them. And it's running parallel to an established shipping lane. The intercept course may be a coincidence."

"Even if they have seen us, captain, they may not consider us a target, or a threat," Arzin put in. "The Hideki class is more heavily armed."

Data turned to the Vulcan helm officer. "Lieutenant T'Leth. Where will the scout's course take it if it is not attempting to intercept us?"

T'Leth made a quick check of the starcharts. "There are two obvious possibilities of strategic value, captain. The newly constructed shipyards at Ennan VI, and Starbase 27 just beyond. Their current flight path will take them close to both."

Data turned to Arzin. "Commander, prepare a coded transmission to Starfleet Command. Inform them of the scout's course and request support from any other Federation ships in the vicinity. Helm. Plot a course that will keep us at the same relative distance to the Cardassian ship. If we are indeed at the edge of their sensor range, they may believe us to be a sensor ghost, allowing us to safely keep them under observation."

"Aye, sir," T'Leth replied, making the course corrections.

Arzin leaned over and spoke quietly to Data. "Captain, I'm sure I don't have to remind you that we aren't really equipped for this."

"You do not, commander, but I am glad you did," Data replied. "I am very aware that this is a potentially dangerous course of action, and we cannot be too careful. I have no wish to start a battle, but if this incursion is intended as a first step towards an attack on either possible target, then we must do what we can to prevent it. And it is not likely that there will be any other ships available at least for some hours."

Arzin sighed and nodded. "Agreed. But this is a very delicate situation, so I hope you won't mind if I keep playing devil's advocate."

Data's mouth quirked up in a wry smile. "I am counting on that."