Hi everyone! Apologies for the very long delay between updates. The crochet doll figures I make brought me to NYC for a while, I got to be an extra in an independent short, and I got involved in a cool project to turn the Batman/Joker story I've been working on into a free audio book - with real actors (and me) providing the voices! So Excited! If you're interested, let me know. I'll be posting information about how to access the free audio book in my profile once we've finished it. :D First, though, it's up to me to write that story's conclusion and finish the script which - along with a few other original projects - is why it's been so long between updates over here. But, I think about this story all the time and I'm always really excited when I get to share a new chapter with you. This is just a short segment, but more is coming soon! I hope you like this next part! :D

Chapter Fourteen

Troi's footsteps clanged in the tubelike metal corridor as she hurried to head off Data and Dr. Crusher before they made it to the cafeteria's sliding doors.

"Counselor?" Data said.

"Data, Beverly, I'm glad I caught you," she said. "I have some good news about Mikey. My contact at the Federation Embassy has tracked down his living relatives. They're on Earth, and willing to take custody as soon as he's well enough to travel."

"Well, that is good news," Crusher said, smiling.

"Indeed, Doctor," Data agreed. "And Ishta?"

Troi's expression fell.

"That's a little more complicated," she said. "Mikey was born in the Federation and, despite his world's disputed status, he remains a Federation citizen. Ishta isn't. And, she's a minor. The way the Federation sees it, as long as her mother—"

"Her mother put her on the market!" Data protested before Troi could finish.

Crusher placed a calming hand on his arm.

"Surely, you're not saying the Federation would consider sending that child back to Orion," she said to Troi. "Not after all she's been through."

"Such a decision would be most unwise," Data said angrily. "There must be another option. Don't forget, Counselor, Ishta was rescued from a Skin trafficking ring. That entitles her to Federation asylum, and special protection under Federation law. An emergency VISA should be issued by—"

"It's not that straightforward, Data," Troi said tiredly. "Not anymore…"

"I don't understand," Data said. "Federation policy is clear."

"Policy is influenced by politics, Data," Troi told him. "And the political climate on Earth has changed considerably since the Dominion War began. People are frightened - frightened to the point of xenophobia. Fringe groups like the Keep Earth Human League, while still a minority, have become a growing voice in government. You're probably aware that, in the last election, nearly every candidate the K.E.H.L. supported won their seat, and they've been fighting to pass policies based on their closed border platform ever since. And it's not just Earth, Data. Betazed has been going through its own bout with anti-alien sentiment. There's been talk of building a protective energy web, rather like a force field, into the planet's weather modification network to better monitor and even restrict the comings and goings of offworlders."

"Given the Federation's superior tracking and sensor technologies, such a measure would seem redundant," the android grunted. "But why should this trend toward paranoia affect Ishta's ability to remain in Federation territory?"

"Because, officially, the Orion slave trade is a thing of the past. The Orion Consulate has instructed if 'rogue' cells should be found operating within the Federation's borders, any Orion citizens we recover from such cells should be classified as 'kidnapped'...as you and Kay were...rather than as victims of the slave trade, and returned to Orion territory without delay. If they resist, they are to be deported to Orion by force."

"You can't be serious…" Crusher muttered.

Troi went on, rather helplessly.

"That means, according to the Federation Embassy and the Orion Consulate, if Ishta stays here, with us, she can be classified as an Orion citizen illegally residing in Federation space, with no claim on the Federation's emergency right to asylum. My contact told me if she wants to remain here, she must first return to Orion Prime, where her legal guardian must fill out an official petition on her behalf, then—"

"She has no legal guardian on Orion Prime!" Data exclaimed, raising his arms. "Her mother relinquished any right to guardianship when she sold her child to the highest bidder! As for the Orions we escaped - they made no distinction between those of us they had kidnapped and those they had purchased. They classified us all as merchandise for sale! I rescued her from that. I brought her here. That makes me her de facto guardian. Tell your contact I will fill out any required forms in that capacity, on her behalf."

Troi winced.

"I'm afraid that won't work, Data," she said. "Even if the Embassy agrees with you… Your…um…well…"

She gestured awkwardly and, for that moment, Data felt more nakedly mechanical than he had without his skin.

"Good God!" he cried. "Forget adoption - are you telling me I do not have the standing to serve as temporary signatory for—"

"Data, I'm not—" she tried to break in.

"Decades of loyal Starfleet service," he said, his amber eyes wide, "a legal battle to establish my right to choose, and still I remain as Kivas Fajo described. Just an android. A positronic thing dressed up in Starfleet colors! I have the right to serve or to quietly leave service, but should I ever seek to become someone's legal guardian, to build a family...to branch beyond my day-to-day duties... Up pops that uncomfortable, unanswerable question. Is this Data machine alive or not? More poetically, does it possess a soul? Is this engineered construct competent to take on a role demanding independent thought and leadership? Or, does it lack the social acumen...the emotional capacity, or emotional control..."

"Data..." Troi tried again, but he waved her off, his frustration sending him pacing up and down the narrow, curving corridor.

The vibration of his quick, heavy steps shook several strands of his new, human-looking hair free of its severely swept-back style; strands that tickled his high forehead. His fierce attempts to push them back only dislodged more.

He stopped pacing and grunted in disgust.

"What the hell kind of place have we become?" he snapped. "Is this not supposed to be the United Federation of Planets? Are we not supposed to welcome those who need our aid - celebrate our strength in cooperation and honest debate and not deny the realities around us?

"Listen," he said, turning back to Troi. "Under Federation law as previously interpreted by the high courts of Earth, Vulcan, and the entire UFP, Ishta's situation merits Federation asylum as an emancipated minor. This is a fact separate from any reactionary political paranoia or bureaucratic red tape. If your contact at the Embassy feels he cannot achieve this, I will contact Captain Phillipa Louvois at JAG Headquarters with a request to put together an emergency legal team of our own. And, if she should decline, android or not, I shall go to Earth, engage the media, and argue Ishta's case myself. Tell him that," he said. "Make sure he understands."

"It won't come to that, Data," Troi assured him, her tired eyes fixed firmly on his. "I still have a few more strings I can pull. And, if they don't come through, there's always my mother…"

Data stilled, then nodded, then offered her a small, rather sheepish smile.

"Your efforts to help in this matter are deeply appreciated," he said. "Deanna. I apologize for snapping at you as I did."

Troi's expression softened, and she clasped his arm.

"I'll get back on the comm," she said. "They don't need me at that meeting anyway. Tell Will and the captain I'll be in for supper, and the memorial service."

"I'll save a plate for you," Crusher said, and Troi smiled.

"Thank you, Deanna," Data said. "If you should wish a full report—"

"I'll let you know, Data," she said, sharing an amused glance with the doctor as she started back down the corridor.

"After you, Doctor," Data said politely, and followed Crusher into the cafeteria dome...their long shadows obscured by a third in the moments before the sliding doors closed...

To Be Continued…

References Include - TNG: The Measure of a Man; The Offspring; The Most Toys; and the TOS novel Sarek.

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