Revised Update! Thanks so much for reading and for your reviews! I'm working on new updates for this story and for Alternative Data and I'm hoping to have them up before the end of the month. In the meantime, Happy Thanksgiving, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

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Chapter Fifteen

The ghostly howls and shrieks of the buffeting sandstorm had dulled to a low, whistling moan. Deanna checked her patient's vitals again, and sank back into the seat she'd pulled up next to the biobed.

The little clinic had lost power shortly after the storm hit. Deanna had taken a refresher course on emergency procedures shortly following her promotion to full commander, but that course had focused more on starships, not planetside bases. It had taken her a long time to find the dome's main generator, then figure out how to switch the bio-monitor systems to battery back-up – so long, she'd been terrified Kurak's medications would begin to wear off, that she might have trouble breathing, or even go into respiratory arrest.

But Klingons were as hardy as their reputation held, chock full of redundant organs and nerve bundles that kicked into gear when the primary structures were injured. She knew this redundant anatomy made Klingons more susceptible to certain types of cancers and genetic disorders, but it did mean they could handle severe internal traumas that would certainly kill most other humanoid species. For now, Kurak was stable. Deanna just had to hope she'd stay that way until some real help had a chance to arrive.

Riker's tricorder bleeped. Deanna stood and strode across the small room to check its readout display.

The storm was passing. Intermittent radio signals were starting to get through the interference.

Deanna reset the tricorder to scan for humanoid life forms, turned up the signal volume, and placed it back by the window. She checked Kurak's readings one more time, gently patted the unconscious woman's hand, then walked quickly down the narrow corridor to the dome's small communications terminal.

The signals were still very patchy. It took her longer than she liked to establish a link with the compound's main transmitter, and she caught herself gnawing at her lip.

Data should be the one doing this. He was quick, efficient, observant. More than that, he was an operations specialist, an expert on all manner of Federation technologies and systems. Deanna's fingers felt clumsy on the unfamiliar controls, her eyes hesitating over symbols, codes, and graphs she had only a passing familiarity with. If Data were there, she knew he'd already have—

But, Data was gone. Data was missing, and she had no way of knowing if she'd ever—

And as for Riker, running out into the storm and leaving her alone with a severely injured patient and no means of contacting him, of knowing whether he or the captain had managed to—

Deanna closed her eyes, took in a long, slow breath, and released it as a sigh. Her hands were shaking, and she clenched her fists to make them stop.

It wouldn't help matters if she let fear and frustration get in her way. Will was all right. He had to be all right. She would know if he were injured…or worse…

She would know.

The link-up chirped, and Deanna focused her attention on the console. The Enterprise was probably still docked at starbase, undergoing its maintenance check, but it wouldn't hurt to try them, to contact Dr. Crusher and Geordi and let them know their situation. They could send a runabout or a shuttle or, if not, there had to be other Starfleet ships in the area that could lend assistance.

With careful pecks at the controls, Deanna sent out an emergency message, making sure she coded it to Starfleet frequencies only. The last thing she wanted was for those Nausicaan raiders or any of their friends intercepting her transmission…

"Chontay, chontay! Qapla'!" Kahlestra and Mikey chanted as they marched through the moon-lit desert with their quarry. "Our hunt has been a great success. There will be meat tonight!"

"Come on, Howard," Kahlestra urged. "Say it with us!"

"Chontay. Qapla'," Howard pronounced obligingly, speaking, as always, in his chipper announcer-voice.

Mikey giggled.

"He sounds like those language tapes we used to listen to at school," he said. "'Can you say: Qapla'?'" he mimicked, and giggled again.

"Yeah, well, he is a robot," Kahlestra said. "It's not his fault he sounds like a computer."

"Data doesn't sound like a computer," Mikey said.

"Data's different," Kahlestra told him, and shifted the phaser rifle's weight to her other shoulder.

"Why?" Mikey asked.

Kahlestra shrugged her eyebrows.

"I don't know," she said. "Why are you different from a targ?"

Mikey laughed.

"Because I'm a boy, that's why," he said.

"You and the targ are both animals, aren't you? You were both born to a mother and a father. You both have hair, eyes, a mouth and a nose. You are the same in so very many ways."

"But I'm not a targ," Mikey said. "Or a rabbit, or a ground cuckoo, or a chimpanzee!"

"Or even a Klingon," Kahlestra said, smiling at the boy in the dim light. "And neither of us are the same as all the other creatures out there."

"Right, I get it!" Mikey said. "Data's a machine, but he's not the same as all the other machines out there. Not even machines like Howard."

"I am Howard," Howard said. "Chontay. Qapla'."

The children laughed and took up the chant again. This time, Howard joined them.

"Chontay, chontay! Qapla'! Chontay, chontay! Qapla'!"

Mikey lifted his knees in a parade-style march, holding his laden arms out in front of him.

"Chontay, chontay! Qapla'! Chontay-"

He gasped and stumbled, dropping his hares and curling up in a tight, tight ball.

"Ow, ow, crap, not now…"

"Mikey!" Kahlesta exclaimed, dropping the rifle and two birds to the sand and skidding to her knees beside him.

"What has happened to the human child?" Howard asked, his photoelectric cells glowing bright blue. "I am here to serve. How may I keep you safe?"

"I'm OK, I'm OK!" Mikey gasped through his teeth. "This happens sometimes. It's why…why Father…didn't want me…"

"What happens, Mikey?" Kahlestra demanded. "Just how sick are you?"

"It's my…agh…" Mikey moaned and curled up even tighter. "Oh, my bones feel like they're on fire…"

"Well…what can we do?" Kahlestra asked urgently.

"Just…" Mikey gasped again, his eyes tearing up and his breaths coming short and quick. "Ooww... My hypo, I need my hypo…"

Kahlestra dug through the boy's pockets and pulled out the old-style instrument.

"OK, now what?" she asked.

"Setting...One…" the boy squeezed out, the pain making him tremble. "That's for…the painkiller…"

"It's too dark, I can't see a thing," Kahlestra grunted, squinting at the chunky old device. "Howard, can you tell which is Setting One?"

"I am here to serve," Howard announced helpfully.

Kahlestra held up the hypospray and the one-armed robot touched one of the tiny buttons with his finger. He tapped it several times, then took the device from the girl.

"Please hold still," he instructed as he crouched beside Mikey and pressed the hypospray to his arm. "This will not hurt a bit."

Mikey laughed despite his agony and rubbed at the injection spot. After a few moments, he slowly uncurled and sat up, his breathing settling back to normal.

"Feeling better?" Kahlestra asked worriedly.

"I'll be OK," the boy said, and shrugged, his eyes fixed on the sand. "Sorry about this."

"How can you be sorry for being sick?" Kahlestra exclaimed. "It's not your fault."

Mikey's head lowered further.

"I don't want to be sick. I don't want people to see me when I'm this sick. Especially people I like…"

Kahlestra nodded.

"You want to appear strong," she said.

"Yeah, I guess…"

Kahlestra stood and held her hand out to him.

"No warrior can hope to defeat Death," she said, "but it takes real courage to look Death in the eye and dare to keep fighting. If you have been living with the pain I just saw, and you still carry hope in your heart…" She smiled. "I think you're very strong. For a human."

Mikey took her hand and let her help him to his feet.

"I am here to keep you safe," Howard said. "I can carry the boy."

Mikey looked ready to protest, but Kahlestra squeezed his shoulder.

"Go ahead," she said. "Howard can carry you, and you can carry the game. That way I can keep better watch with the phaser rifle."

"OK," Mikey said, hiding his weariness and his gratitude as Howard lifted him with his one strong arm. Kahlestra stacked the game in the boy's lap, then picked up the phaser rifle.

"Kay?" Mikey said.

"Yeah, Mikey?"

"Do…do we have to tell Data about what happened?"

Kahlestra looked hesitant, then shook her head.

"I won't, if you don't want me to," she said, and Mikey looked relieved. "But I think you should. I mean, Data already knows you're sick. If you tell him about your attacks, maybe he can help you. Make your hypo synthesize a better medicine, or something. That thing looks pretty old."

Mikey frowned, and slipped the device back into his pocket.

"Yeah… It's Cardassian surplus. From the war," he said. "I got it…back at the orphanage… But, even with the hypo, I'm slow and I'm sick and I'm a terrible bother to everyone I meet. Maybe I'm not worth helping."

Kahlestra bared her teeth.

"You show me the creep who told you that," she said. "And I will make it my business to cripple him."

Mikey raised an eyebrow at her.

"You don't believe me?" she challenged.

"Oh, I believe you," Mikey said, and smiled. "Chontay, chontay!" he said, tightening his grip on their game. "Qapla'! We've got a mission to complete!"

"Right," Kahlestra said, and hefted her phaser rifle. "Come on, Howard, let's get moving!"

"I am here to serve," Howard said, and resumed his rapid shuffle through the sand.

Like that, the three of them marched back to where they'd left Data with Ishta, their proud chant echoing across the arid landscape.

"Chontay, chontay! Qapla'! Chontay, chontay! Qapla'!"

Data stared at the sleeping children, his head slightly tilted as he considered their situation.

Their meal had gone well. At the right setting, a phaser rifle was capable of cooking, rather than simply vaporizing, meat and, though it was a bit on the well-done side, even Ishta had been far too hungry to complain.

After their meal, Kahlestra had run some distance to bury the bones so they wouldn't attract predators during the night. Mikey and Ishta had searched for rocks and stones they could pile up and use the phaser rifle to heat for light and warmth. Data and Howard had been unable to find a suitable source of ground water, but they had collected a stack of thick, aloe-like leaves that could serve instead; at least, temporarily. Data made use of his android senses to test their chemical composition, ensuring they carried no toxins. He had also found a plant laden with sweet cactus-pear-like fruits growing safely in a dip behind a rocky outcropping: a welcome dessert the children had greeted with happy cheers.

Kahlestra wore an undershirt beneath her tunic, so she took off the outer layer and knotted the sleeves and neck to make a sack to carry their provisions in. They stuffed it with the remaining game, cactus-pears, and aloe leaves, tied it closed, and buried the whole thing in the sand, ready for the morning.

But, morning was still a long way off, and Data was all too aware of the passing time. They couldn't expect to stay where they were and remain safe, and he estimated they had a trek of just over forty miles ahead of them. That would be at least two days on foot, possibly three, and only if the weather held out. A quake, he could probably handle but, operating so far from peak efficiency, Data doubted he'd be able to force his diagnostic shields to stretch far enough, and maintain enough integrity, to protect the children from another sandstorm, even with Howard's help. And that worried him.

It worried him deeply.

The children's breathing was slow and steady, and Howard's glowing eyes were dim. Data stood slowly and crept silently away from their little camp, heading toward the site of the collapsed underground tunnels.

The sandstorm had significantly altered the landscape, but Data was able to spot the depression without much difficulty. He scanned the area, projecting where the 'Junk Yard' had been situated, and moved in that direction. If he could uncover some kind of transport, even if it was only a motor and some parts he could assemble before the children woke up…

"What are you doing?"

Data jumped.

"Ishta!" he gasped. "You should be sleeping!"

"So should you," she retorted, and stared at the large, crater-like dent in the sand. "You're not still moping about leaving those idiots behind, are you?"

"I regret what happened here very deeply, Ishta," he said somberly. "But no, I am not 'moping.' I was wondering if we might not be able to locate some means of transport in these ruins."

Ishta's eyebrows raised.

"So we wouldn't have to hike across this flaming desert?" she said. "That would be good. But, how could we hope to find anything under all this sand?"

"I was rather hoping the sandstorm might have revealed…"

He trailed off, moving rather cautiously toward a slight glint he saw gleaming in the moonlight.

"Data?" Ishta hurried after him. "What is it? What do you see?"

"Stay back," the android warned, holding a hand out behind him to stay her progress. "The ground over the ruins is quite unstable. I would not want you to fall through."

"Well, what about you?" Ishta shouted. "You're way heavier than I am!"

"I am an android," Data said, hopping nimbly from one relatively stable spot to another. "My visual acuity, balance, and reflexes are far sharper than those of any organic humanoid. And I am far less likely to suffer injury were I to fall some ten to twelve feet. Now please, stay where you are and allow me to concentrate."

Ishta muttered darkly to herself, but stayed put, frowning as she watched Data pause by a glint of shiny something, then crouch down and start digging around it with his hands.

"What is it?" she called out.

"It may be a power cell!" he called back. "Allow me a moment to find out!"

Ishta rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, but submitted to waiting without further protest.

Before long, Data had pulled three power cells and a detached antigrav unit from the sand. He returned briefly to pile them beside Ishta then, moving further on, he got down on his hands and knees and brushed the sand from something round and flat that looked rather like a manhole cover.

"Hey, what's going on?" Kahlestra asked, coming up beside Ishta.

The Orion stared, then glared, moving to block Kahlestra's view of Data.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded. "Where's the robot and that kid?"

"Howard and Mikey are still at the camp," Kahlestra said, trying to peer around the taller girl's shoulders. "I wanted to see where you and Data had got to."

"Well, now you know," Ishta snarled. "Go back to sleep."

"No way," Kahlestra said. "I can help!"

"Whatever you do, stay back and keep quiet," Data called to them. "I have found a way inside. Please wait and do not attempt to follow me."

"Oh, come on!" Ishta protested. "You can't seriously expect—"

"I am quite serious," Data said. "Promise me you will stay where you are."

Ishta's nostrils flared and she clenched her fists, but she swallowed her outrage and stepped back.

"Yeah, OK," she grumbled.

Kahlestra nodded.

"We promise."

Data nodded once, then lifted the manhole cover with some effort and climbed down the rungs into the darkness below.

The girls waited, first standing, then pacing along the edge of the prominent dint in the sand. After a long while, a strange rumbling thrumming started up and the ground began to vibrate just slightly.

"Don't tell me it's another quake," Ishta said.

"I don't think so," Kahlestra said, tilting her head, her senses on full alert. "It doesn't sound right."

She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted: "Data? Data, are you OK down there?"

They waited, straining to hear any sort of response, but all they heard was that low, rumbling thrum: one after another after another.

"Come on, Data, this isn't funny!" Ishta shouted. "Get back out here, right now, or I'm coming in after you!"

"You can't do that," Kahlestra said, grabbing the girl's arm. "We gave our word."

"Like that's supposed to stop me?" Ishta said, shrugging her off and striding forward, straight toward the unstable ruins.

"Don't!"

Kahlestra grabbed her again, trying to pull her back, but Ishta gripped the younger girl's arm and flipped her, hard, into the sand. Kahlestra groaned, but rolled to her feet, wincing as she stretched the bruised muscles in her neck and shoulder.

Baring her teeth in a snarl, the young Klingon lunged at the Orion, tackling her around the middle and sending them both crashing into the sand. Ishta fought back, scissoring the younger girl with her legs and struggling to wrestle her way to the top. The two combatants rolled over and over, each focused on gaining the advantage – not where their battle was taking them. They tumbled into the crater-like dent, the damaged concrete below them cracking and splintering as they moved, until the sensation of falling startled the pair out of their fight.

They found themselves caught in a choking waterfall of sand and concrete chunks with barely time to cry out before they landed in a heap, coughing and spitting and pushing each other away.

"Oh, my God!" Data yelped and raced to help them. "Oh my God, are you all right? Are you injured?"

Kahlestra hacked and spat out more sand, but shook her head.

"No, I'm OK," she said hoarsely.

"Yeah, me too," Ishta rasped, and coughed.

Data's expression shifted from terrified concern to livid anger, his yellow eyes seeming to flame in the moonlight that filtered down from above.

"What the hell do you two think you were doing!" he shouted. "You damn near scared the life out of me! Did I not expressly order you to stay out of this unstable area? Did you not promise me – to my face – that you would accede to the directive I set forth?"

"If you mean, did we break our promise, then yeah, we did," Ishta said, running her tongue over her teeth, then spitting out the grit. "But only because you weren't answering us!"

"I did not hear you call," Data said.

"Yeah, well, I did," Ishta insisted, crossing her arms tightly and kicking at the piled sand. "But don't worry, android. Next time, I won't bother."

Kahlestra glared at the older girl.

"You are such a jerk!" she snapped, and turned to Data. "Yes, we shouted, but she was the one who walked into the unstable area. I tried to stop her, but she kept moving forward. That's why this happened. I never intended to break my word!"

Data closed his eyes and pursed his lips, turning his head away until he managed to get a grip on his temper. He'd never experienced a scare quite like that...in fact, his insides still felt oddly weak and shaky. Part of him wanted to reach out and pull the girls close, to apologize for his outburst, to reassure himself, and them, that they were all OK. But there was also a powerful impulse to continue scolding, to drill an understanding into them that such reckless disrespect for his authority and their own safety was entirely unacceptable.

Ultimately, though, his rational nature won out over his tug-of-war emotions and he sighed through his nose, straightening his posture and responding with the simple truth.

"I believe you, Kay," he said quietly. "And you, Ishta. And, I am extremely relieved that the two of you are unhurt. I understand that you are both quite young and still lack the capacity to fully control your impulses, but I did hope that I could trust you to remain on your own for a few minutes."

"You can trust me!" Kahlestra exclaimed. "This only happened because—"

Data held up a hand.

"Please, stop," he said. "You are both to blame for this incident. As am I, for not being more diligent about your supervision. We will all have to do better. But, since you are here now, come see what I have found."

The two girls followed but avoided each other's eyes, each muttering dark mutterings about the other under their breath.

"I can hear you whispering, you know," Data said from up ahead. "I do wish you girls could learn to get along. So much can be gained in friendship…I do not understand why you continue to expend so much energy on animosity. Ah—"

He stopped short, and the girls stopped too, staring blindly at the darkness. This far underground, Data provided the only light, his form an odd, blinking outline of a head with floating hands. He bent down, lifted something, and the girls squinted against the onslaught of a sudden, blinding light that slowly resolved into a hand-held lantern.

"Yow," Ishta winced. "You could have given us some warning, you know."

"Apologies," Data said. "Has your vision adjusted to the light?"

"Yeah, it's OK," Kahlestra said. "What did you want us to…see…"

She trailed off, staring in amazement at four large sand speeders and two wheeled ATVs parked on a ramp near a collapsed exit.

"Oh, fantastic!" she cheered. "Do they work?"

"They do," Data confirmed. "I tested each of them to make sure."

Ishta and Kahlestra looked at each other, realizing that must have been source of the thrumming sounds they'd heard.

"And with the spare antigrav unit and power cells I already excavated," Data went on, "we should have no concerns about reaching our destination."

"I can think of one," Ishta said. "These things are huge! And this ramp is totally blocked. How the hell are we supposed to get them out of here?"

Data smiled.

"Ironically, you have already provided the solution to that particular conundrum," he said.

Ishta wrinkled up her face, then frowned, then stared.

"No way," she said. "You don't mean—"

"Up and out," Data said, and pointed down the tunnel toward the hole the girls had made when they fell.

"But this tunnel's totally unstable!" Ishta exclaimed. "If we burst through the ceiling, the whole thing will collapse!"

"We only need one vehicle," Data pointed out. "But even though the roof of this tunnel is already quite destabilized, executing this maneuver without damaging the vehicle we choose will be tricky. If you wish to exit now, I would advise you stand at least fifty meters away from—"

"Uh uh, no way," Kahlestra said. "If you're going to do this, we're riding with you. Right, Ishta?"

Ishta shuffled a few steps toward the ladder rungs that led to the manhole cover above.

"Well, actually, I might—"

Kahlestra smirked.

"So, you're a chicken after all."

Ishta bit the inside of her cheek and fixed the younger girl with a piercing glare. Striding past both her and Data, she ran her hand over the smooth side of the nearest sand speeder until she found the door latch, then opened it and slipped into the front passenger seat.

"Ooh," Kahlestra snarled. "That's just not fair. I should get front seat! You didn't even want to go!"

"Yeah, well, first come, first served," Ishta shot back. "Looks like you're in the back."

Kahlestra huffed angrily.

"Data, you can't let her—"

"You're right, I can't," Data interrupted firmly. "Federation traffic laws regarding civilian transport by sand speeder dictate all children under the age of sixteen must sit in the back seat. Ishta, I am afraid you will be sitting beside Kahlestra."

Kahlestra looked triumphant.

Ishta looked suspicious.

"You just made that up," she accused.

"You are welcome to prove that," Data said. "But, until you can provide the relevant evidence, you will be required to ride in the back."

Ishta scowled, but clambered into the back seat. Kahlestra followed. Data took his place behind the controls, a rather smug look creasing his silvery face.

The look didn't last long.

"You suck, you know that," Ishta muttered to Kahlestra.

"Well you—" Kahlestra started, but Data snapped; "Girls! Please strap yourselves in. The action we are about to take is quite dangerous. I would strongly advise you never to attempt this on your own."

Kahlestra snorted helplessly into her hand.

"What?" Ishta said. "What's wrong with you?"

"Did he seriously just say that?" Kahlestra giggled. "I seriously think he just said that!"

Data glanced curiously at her over his shoulder.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"You!" she exclaimed. "You seriously just went: 'Don't try this at home, kids!'"

She broke up laughing again. Ishta shook her head with a shrug. Data raised his eyebrows, and turned back to the front.

"Well," he said, and started the engine. "If you liked that, you should love this: 'Fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy night…'"

Kahlestra snickered, but Ishta still looked blank.

"Bette Davis, All About Eve, 1950," Data cited, and tapped at the controls, slowly easing the speeder off the ramp and into the narrow tunnel. He stared into the blackness ahead and took in a bracing breath, clamping back the computerish impulse to calculate the variables and probabilites associated with getting them through that jagged hole without incident. Those numbers were not important. Maintaining the girls' confidence was.

"OK, here we go…"

Under the android's precise ministrations, the sleek craft rapidly gained speed, slipping through the jagged hole in the tunnel roof so smoothly, Kahlestra literally blinked and missed it.

"Whoa..." Ishta gasped, a hand pressed to her chest. "That was... Wow!"

"Yeee-haw!"

Data let out a whoop of triumph, and both girls happily joined in, pausing only to load up the spare parts. They were all still laughing and whooping when the android settled the speeder down beside their little camp barely a minute later.

Mikey stirred, and Howard stood, taking up a protective stance beside the boy until the speeder's doors opened and he saw Data and the girls clamber out.

"So awesome," Kahlestra enthused. "By Kahless himself, that was so awesome!"

"What happened?" Mikey asked anxiously, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "What's going on?"

"Data found us a speeder, that's what's going on," Ishta said, and set about digging up their provision pack. "We're finally getting out of this stinking sandtrap."

"Indeed," Data said happily. "And, while I am aware such transport is illegal on this world, this is an emergency and our journey has now been shortened from a three day hike to a ride of less than an hour. Please, hop in!"

To Be Continued…

References include TNG: Ethics; Transfigurations; Hero Worship; The Arsenal of Freedom; Encounter at Farpoint; Thine Own Self; that Nemesis movie; and Red Dwarf: Gunmen of the Apocalypse.

Until next time! Your comments, reviews, opinions, notions, and criticisms are always welcome! :)