MAINTENANCE COMPLETE! (and some grammar check stuff too)
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Chapter Eighteen
"Howard," Data said as he piloted the speeder, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the children, sleeping in the back seat. "Do you find the monotony of this dark, desert landscape to have a strangely hypnotic effect?"
"I am Howard: an HDD-421 Series Robot," Howard stated from the seat beside him, his chirpy announcer-voice equally low. "I cannot be hypnotized, frustrated, or bored. I am here to serve."
"Right, of course," Data said, and shook his head. "It's just me, then. But, I am not bored. Quite the opposite. My mind is running along so many different tracks…not all of which I want to contemplate. I keep…worrying… What are we to find when we reach the compound? The attack was quite violent…can I assume it ended when they kidnapped me? Were my friends similarly captured, but sent elsewhere…to serve as Slaves rather than Skins? And, what of the archaeologists? Kahlestra's mother? Our poor, frightened horses… We still do not know just what the attackers were after."
Howard sat still as a statue, his glowing gaze fixed straight ahead.
"Howard?" Data prompted, anxious for some feedback. Perhaps…reassurance. At the very least, a bit of genuine conversation.
The robot turned his head to face him.
"My name is Howard," Howard said. "I am here to serve. How may I serve you?"
Data stared at the robot, rather stricken by his complete lack of…anything, really. Empathy, curiosity, concern… Even before the emotion chip, Data knew…at least, he sincerely hoped…he had not come across to others as so…blank… Yet, Howard—
Had the robot even been listening? Was his Orion-tech, duotronic brain capable of understanding the meaning, the nonverbal subtexts, that lurked behind spoken words?
From the start, Data had seen aspects of his own mechanical nature and mannerisms reflected in Howard. Enough to raise his hopes – to make him wonder if, perhaps, he wasn't quite so alone after all.
Now, however…
A sense of crushing disappointment washed over the android, and he felt his expression tighten. Talking with Howard…well, attempting to talk… It brought into painfully sharp relief just how unique he truly was…among machines as well as men.
He snorted slightly and shook his head. Spot was more perceptive, and responsive, than the cybernetic construct beside him. But then Spot, like Data and Data's other biological friends, was sentient.
Perhaps he would find his remaining time with Howard less frustrating if he stopped trying to communicate with the robot and, instead, addressed him as he would the similarly non-sentient Enterprise computer.
"Never mind, Howard," he said.
"I am here to serve," Howard stated, and his gaze returned to the front.
Data sighed and stared out at the acres and acres of moonlit sand stretching before them, his anxious mind again propelling his thoughts in speculative circles as he drummed his metal fingers against the steering wheel: Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap tap…
He caught his attention drifting and quickly straightened in his seat, muttering an irritable admonition under his breath. His mind had never been so misty before the damned chip… Or could this woolly-headed feeling be another symptom of his dangerously low power reserves?
"I would very much appreciate some music at this juncture," he said, still keeping his voice quiet. "But, the children need their sleep. I do not wish to disturb them. Yet, if I do not find some mental distraction, and soon, I fear I may lose focus entirely and slip into a daydream. Howard…"
"I am Howard," Howard responded. "How may I be of service?"
"Are you familiar with travel games?" Data asked.
"I am here to serve," Howard said, his blue photoelectric cells glowing brightly in the dimness. "Accessing…Games. My programming includes travel games popular on Orion Prime."
"I wish to play 'Imaginary Bubbles,'" Data said. "It is one of my favorites, a fast-paced game of mathematics centered on the minimal surface equation: a nonlinear equation involving powers and products of derivatives that, essentially, encodes the peculiar behavior of soap films. I start, by—"
Howard made a soft buzz-like sound, indicating a failure to process Data's input.
"I am Howard, your helpful domestic droid," he stated. "The phrase 'minimal surface equation'," for the quote, he played back a recording of Data's voice, "is not included in my programming. How may I be of service?"
Data grimaced, and briefly closed his eyes.
"Fine, yes, of course," he said, his shoulders falling once again into a grumpy hunch. "Howard, please provide a list of available travel games."
"My programming includes travel games popular on Orion Prime," Howard repeated. "These games are: Astronaut Challenge; Captain Korg; Capital Cities; FerengiCasino8; I Spy; Thermal—"
A rocking jolt jarred the vehicle, knocking it sharply off course. Data quickly compensated, but the lurching convulsion shook the children awake, and they cried out in alarm and pain as a second jolt slammed them against each other.
"Ow—hey! What the hell!" Ishta exclaimed, pushing a disoriented Kahlestra off her arm. "Stay on your side!"
"Did we hit something?" Mikey asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
"No," Data said, running his gaze over the diagnostic readout. "There appears to be a fault in the primary power converter. Most likely a result of deliberate tampering...either to discourage the theft or unauthorized use of this vehicle — or possibly done in hopes of selling the same vehicle over and over again, counting on the malfunction to ensure it would be returned."
"What does that mean?" Ishta demanded.
"It means..." he said, glancing at her over his shoulder. "...that we cannot continue to the compound until we repair the converter."
Data tightened his grip on the shaking steering wheel, struggling to hold in his frustration. The Orions who had been storing the speeder were smugglers, cons! Why hadn't he considered this contingency?
"Where are we?" Kahlestra asked blearily, covering a yawn with her hand.
"Approximately twelve kilometers from our destination," Data informed her.
"Good grief," the young Klingon said. "Another ten minutes or so and we'd be home free. How long will these repairs take?"
"Not long," Data said, wrangling the juddering vehicle toward the closest thing to cover he could spot - a small outcropping of weathered rocks and dry cacti. "There is an emergency kit in the back storage compartment. I estimate the necessary repairs shouldn't take more than half an hour."
"You 'estimate'?" Ishta said snarkily. "Isn't your brain supposed to be some kind of fancy-pants computer?"
Data's expression tensed, but he refused to give her the reaction she wanted.
"I don't understand why you insist on provoking confrontation," he said, "but now is not the time for goading taunts. I promised I would take you to safety, and I will. Until then, we must work together, as a team, no matter what challenges obstruct our path."
Ishta rolled her eyes in utter exasperation.
"Whatever," she said as the speeder slowed to a stop, then lowered rather jerkily to the sandy ground. "I need a bathroom break anyway."
Kahlestra wrinkled her nose at the older girl.
"Jerk," she grunted under her breath.
"We have no need for insults either," Data told her, and opened the doors. "Now, you children can stay in here or come out and stretch your legs for a time, but I advise you to stay within sight of each other, and the speeder."
"In other words," Kahlestra said, and smirked, "don't wander off."
"Precisely," Data said, smiling slightly. "Howard, I will need you to help hold the tools."
"I am here to serve," Howard announced, and the five of them piled out of the speeder.
"Think he knows he's muttering to himself?" Ishta said, kicking at the sand.
"Who, Data?" Kahlestra said, and glanced at the android - a blinking metal construct with its head deep in the engine of another. "Probably not."
"I don't get it," Ishta said, making gouges with her toe, then kicking the excess sand toward the rocks. "Why would anyone build a thing like him?"
"He said why," Mikey spoke up. "His father wanted a son."
"That's stupid," Ishta said, and leaned against the rock-side with a huff. "Everyone would know he wasn't the guy's real son. That he couldn't be..."
Mikey regarded her.
"You like him," he said.
"You're an idiot," Ishta retorted.
"I am not. You really like him!" Mikey asserted, and started backing away from her aggressive glare, a smug, teasing smile stretching over his thin little face. "I bet that's why you and Kay keep fighting. You both like Data and you don't want to say!"
"Don't be stupid!" the girls objected, absolutely outraged.
"He's a machine!"
"He's...old!"
"Way old."
"Gotta be more than thirty."
"Way more."
"And besides," Ishta said. "I bet he doesn't even have a pe—"
"Ishta!" Kahlestra exclaimed, pressing a scandalized hand to her mouth. "You shouldn't talk like that. It's disrespectful."
"Why?" the Orion said. "Just think about it. You're a Klingon and you're acting like this. Do you seriously think a human would build a machine with a working—"
"Stop it!" Kahlestra shrieked. "Just... Yuck! Just stop!"
"I rest my case," Ishta said, and smugly crossed her arms. "Besides, I already tested him."
Kahlestra stared.
"You what?"
"Oh, don't worry," the Orion said. "He wasn't interested."
"Well, duh!" Kahlestra exclaimed. "You're fourteen! He may be a machine, but he's not a perv." She bared her teeth in disgust at the older girl. "You, I'm not so sure about," she said.
Ishta shrugged and flicked her hair over her shoulder.
"Think what you want," she said, heading for the speeder.
"Hey, where are you going?" Kahlestra called after her.
"To ask him," she called back.
"Kahless!" Kahlestra hissed. "She really is a freak!"
She glanced at Mikey, who seemed to be enjoying the whole scene way too much.
"Oh, shut up," she said, and hurried after Ishta. Mikey followed...once he managed to contain his snickers. He caught up just in time to hear Ishta ask her question.
"Data?" she said, leaning casually against the speeder and peering in at the engine the android was busily, and quite efficiently, repairing.
"Stop!" Kahlestra shouted, rather breathlessly. "Ignore, her, Data. She's a pig! A filthy-minded Orion pig!"
Data straightened and faced the three children, his brow furrowed in confusion as he struggled to interpret their wildly differing expressions: one smug, one horrified, and one teetering on the brink of giggles.
"I beg your pardon?" he said.
"It's no big deal," Ishta said, her blue eyes fixed on the darkly blushing Kahlestra. "I was just going to ask you if—"
"Ishta, don't!"
"If you've ever been in love," Ishta finished, speaking right over the Klingon's protest.
Kahlesta blinked, and stood down.
"Oh..." she said.
Ishta smirked, and winked at Mikey.
Data regarded them all, certain he had missed something but not quite willing to ask what.
"Do you want the truth?" he asked them.
"Yes," Ishta said quickly. Kahlestra just nodded.
"Then, no," he admitted. "I have never been in love. At least...not yet."
"Then you can fall in love," Ishta pressed. "That is, you can actually—"
"Good grief!" Kahlestra exclaimed, burying her face in her hands in embarrassment.
Data frowned at her, even more befuddled than before.
"I am fully functional, if that is your question," he said - causing Mikey to snort laughter through his nose.
"'Fully functional'!" he giggled.
"Does that mean you can pee?" Ishta asked, starting to catch the giggles too.
"Can you fart?" Mikey asked, nearly choking on his amusement.
"I have never attempted either of those functions," Data informed them, rather primly, "and I am beginning to suspect you children are making fun of me."
"No, no, we're not," Kahlestra said, still blushing furiously. "I promise we're not! I guess we just...want to know more about you. That's all."
"Hm..." Data grunted, not entirely convinced. He wiped his metal fingers on a cloth Howard held out to him, and closed the speeder's hood. "The repairs are complete and I have inserted a fresh power cell. If you children are ready, we can now complete our journey to the compound."
"I'm ready," Ishta said, and swung easily back into the speeder.
"Me too," Mikey said, and climbed in after her.
Kahlestra hesitated by the door.
"You're not mad...are you, Data?" she asked.
"Mad?" Data repeated. "As in 'angry'? 'Offended'?"
"Yeah," Kahlestra said.
Data smiled at her.
"No," he said. "Actually, upon consideration, I think I'm rather flattered."
Kahlestra wrinkled her nose.
"Flattered?"
"Yes," Data said. "Personal questions are asked of people. Have you asked many computer systems if they can pee?"
Kahlestra snickered.
"No, of course not."
Data's smile broadened, then slowly faded.
"Do not worry about me, Kay," he said. "While it is true that I have yet to experience romantic love...even familial love... I have known the love that comes with friendship. I know what it is to care for someone. I have come to care for each of you children quite deeply."
He climbed into the driver's seat but, before he could close the door, Kahlestra hopped up and kissed his metal cheek.
"Hey, Data," she said, "I love you too."
While Data blinked in surprise, Kahlestra climbed in the back, shooting Ishta a rather smug look as she fastened her seat belt for the ride home.
When I fall in love
It will be forever
Or I'll never fall in love...
In a restless world, like this is
Love is ended before it's begun
And too many moonlight kisses
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun...
If I give my heart
It will be completely
Or I'll never give my heart...
And the moment
I can feel
That you feel that way too
Is when I'll fall in love with you...
"That song's really beautiful," Mikey sighed sleepily. "Where's it from?"
"Earth," Data told him, quite enjoying the cozy hush that had fallen over the speeder's cabin in the few minutes since they'd resumed their trip. The warm sense of...peace...belonging... It was a new experience for him, one he hoped would last. "It was Ishta's questions that made me think of it. The song is very old, dating from Earth's mid-twentieth century. Yet, somehow, I find that the sentiment it expresses...speaks to me."
Mikey nodded, and rested his head against the cool window.
"I remember...when I was really small," he said softly. "My dad used to sing like that to help me go to sleep. Do you think...you could sing it again, Data? I mean...you don't have to. I just..."
"I would be happy to sing to you, Mikey," Data assured him. "I'll sing it quietly so—"
A red flash lit the night and the speeder rocked violently, shattering the moment. Data turned at once to the controls, but the impact had shaken everyone out of their warm and muzzy thoughts.
"Data, what's happening!" Kahlestra exclaimed. "Is it the power converter again?
"No," Data said, alarm making his voice seem clipped. "Someone is shooting at us! I am initiating evasive maneuvers. Please stay in your seats, and remain calm!"
"'Remain calm,' he says," Ishta scoffed, and undid her seatbelt, kneeling on the seat to peer out the rear window.
"Hey, sit down!" Kahlestra snapped. "Didn't you hear—"
"By the deities..." the Orion girl said, pointedly ignoring the younger Klingon. "Data's right! There's another speeder following us!"
"Is it them?" Mikey asked anxiously. "The other two guards? Do they know we escaped? Does... Could Father know?"
"Now is not the time for speculation," Data said, his hands flying over the control panel as he skilfully dodged blast after blinding blast. "Speculation without fact will only lead to worry."
"Speculation, hell," Ishta said. "I can say it's those guards for sure! That's 'Poug driving and Rizzul shooting. I recognize that slaver bastard even with that nasty patch over his face."
She turned back around, digging between the seats in search of their own phaser rifle.
"Let's kill them, Data," she said as she searched. "Swing this crate around and let me blow out Rizzul's good eye!"
Kahlestra stared, unsure whether to feel impressed or disturbed by the older girl's vehemence...not that she didn't share the sentiment.
"What you propose is neither possible nor advisable," Data said. "Our phaser rifle is stowed in the back compartment, along with our provisions and extra power cells."
"Wait - are you saying we don't have any weapons!" Ishta exclaimed.
"I am saying we do not have direct access to a phaser," Data corrected, the children moaning despite their terror as he continued to swerve the speeder right and left, up and down, at increasingly frightening velocities. "In times of necessity, nearly anything can be used as a weapon."
"Like what?" Ishta demanded, leaning over his chair's back. "There's nothing in here, and there's certainly nothing out there! We might as well just crack a window and spit at them!"
"Ishta, sit down and fasten your seat belt! Now!" Data ordered, shooting her a rather wild-eyed glare. Surprised, Ishta actually did. "Believe it or not," he said, "I do have a plan - not to execute our pursuers, but capture them for questioning."
Ishta snorted.
"You're kidding, right? You can't expect to capture two of the Boss-man's best henchmen in a clunky speeder with no phasers, no—"
"Did I ask whether it was possible?" Data snapped. He shook his head sightly and tightened his grip on the wheel.
"Apologies, Ishta, this burst of temper I am experiencing is not directed at you," he said, his golden eyes fixed on a cluster of tall, undulating sand dunes just ahead. "It is just...that we should be attacked, so close to our destination—!" He shook his head. "This anger is fresh, but...I think... It is quite possible the frustration fueling it has been building for a long time. Perhaps years, perhaps my entire life... Still, I am feeling it now, truly feeling it, and I have no wish to stop until it all comes out!"
He put on a fresh burst of speed that pressed the children helplessly against the back of their seats, the towering dunes looming ever closer as he spoke.
"I have been pursued many times. Captured, 'collected,' manipulated, treated as an object, an appliance, a trophy, a possession, a thing! That Orion smuggler, Nizik, certainly viewed me as a commodity. At least, until he bothered to talk with me. That is when fear overtook 'familiarity.'"
He shook his head, and frowned.
"In fact, from the moment I first opened my eyes on Omicron Theta, I have been perceived by those around me as an unsettling contradiction; forced to straddle the walls humanoid societies tend to construct between concepts such as 'mechanical' and 'living,' 'life-like' and 'life form...' So, I sit alone, in a class by myself, and I hate it!"
His shoulders tensed and his expression hardened, the lights in his skull seeming to blink faster in the dimness.
"Do you know what Commander Riker said to me when we first met?" he said bitterly, speaking more to himself than his companions. "He presumed my Starfleet rank was honorary! Some token title I had been assigned. He had read through my file, but somehow it had slipped past his attention that an android might actually be an Academy graduate, same as him, that I had worked my way up the science track, earned a command position aboard the Federation's flagship!
"Of course, such presumptions were nothing new. Humans have been projecting their prejudices onto me for as long as I can remember, and each time I have wondered, what is wrong with me that they should treat me so? What am I missing, that I should be continually second-guessed, put down, taken for granted, patronized, infantilized, and otherwise blatantly diminished by a galaxy of ignorant, hypocritical, tech-phobic organisms I only ever sought to protect!"
He snarled and pulled back on the controls, lurching the speeder almost straight up. The children made small, frightened noises, turning their heads to watch the speeder behind them match their speed and angle, but they didn't dare interrupt Data's rant.
"They are all guilty of these behaviors, in one way or another," he went on. "Riker, Troi...Captain Picard! Maddox wishes to dismantle you for study, Data? - well, I have to consider Starfleet's interests! Your child is not a child, Data, it's an invention!"
He snorted through his nose, ignoring the sudden stinging in his eyes. Kahlestra blinked and shared a startled glance with Ishta, but they both kept silent.
"Even my brother is not classified in Starfleet's records as a madman, but as Soong's failed experiment!" he cried, hurt and anger tightening his voice as he continued their dangerously steep climb. "Yet, he may have had a point. Starfleet does see me more as a 'puppet' than a person. For all my achievements, my so-called rights, my fundamental situation is the same now as it was when I was first discovered. Sure, you can join up with us, the admirals say, but you can't sit at our table. Of course we accept you, they claim. Just keep to your station and don't look up! Geordi, Troi and Worf have all been promoted, Commander Riker has been offered ship after ship, but me? I subvert the Borg, bring scheming Romulans out into the light, but do I get offers of promotion? Glowing features in the newsfeeds? Oh no - my achievements make admirals nervous: an android can't be trusted to command on its own! So, they stick a commendation in my file, issue a token medal to add to my collection...
"Well, guess what, Starfleet Command!" he shouted at the windscreen. "The fact that I am other than human does not inherently make me less than human! That I was constructed rather than born does not automatically imply I have no living soul! I will end this pursuit and take the perpetrators into custody, I will do it my way, and you children will see first-hand that my emotions have in no way hindered my ability to perform my duties as a Federation citizen, and a Starfleet Officer! Now stay still, and hold on tight! The maneuvers I am about to execute are extremely dangerous."
"Why did he have to say 'execute'," Mikey moaned, clutching his stomach as the speeder seemed to stop short, hovering just at the peak of the tallest sand dune as if waiting for the pursuing craft to catch up.
"What is he doing?" Ishta squeaked under her breath. "They'll be back in shooting range in a minute—"
"Calm down," Kahlestra whispered. "Listen to the engine! I think I know what he has in mind..."
"What are they doing?" Rizzul said, squinting through the dusty windshield as their speeder rocketed up the side of the sandy dune. "Why are they just hovering there?"
"Maybe they give up?" the Nausicaan suggested. "It is said how Skins fear freedom."
"I don't think that's it," Rizzul grunted, and checked the charge on his phaser rifle. "I've only got power for a few good shots. Line me up with their engine's plasma induction coils. Perched right above us like that, they're the perfect sitting target...!"
As 'Poug got them into position, Rizzul hopped up onto the seat and leaned his head and shoulders out the passenger side window, the tip of his tongue jutting through his lips as he took aim—
"Now!" Data exclaimed, and revved the engine, shifting the hovering speeder into its highest gear. He kept it paused there for 2.31 seconds - just long enough to send gusts and heaps of loose, displaced sand blowing straight into the pursuing speeder's engine, clogging its air intake tube and jamming the entire intake manifold - before shifting again and zipping down the dune, out of the dense sand cloud he'd created in time to avoid the same fate.
Meanwhile, inside the enemy speeder, 'Poug and Rizzul barely had time to realize what had happened before their engine stalled out, their residual velocity hurling them straight into what, on impact, instantly became a loose-sand avalanche. Sand poured in through the open window as the dune collapsed around them, the small speeder rocking and tumbling and sliding helplessly down the slope like a pebble down a mountainside, the two trapped men coughing and screaming and scrambling for dear life.
"We'll meet them at the bottom," Data said, bringing them around the dune to a safe viewing distance.
"Yeah, if they survive," Ishta commented, staring wide-eyed at the collapsing dune, and the little speeder skittering just ahead of the dusty wave. "I gotta say, though, I never would have thought sand could be a weapon!"
"What about that sandstorm?" Kahlestra pointed out.
"Not the same," Ishta said. "I mean, are you seeing this? Data just dumped a whole sand dune on those guys' heads, and he did it with a speeder!"
"Yeah, wind and sand," Kahlestra said. "Put them together and you get: sandstorm!"
"It was my intent to turn this hostile landscape to our advantage," Data acknowledged, watching closely as the shifting sands altered the enemy speeder's trajectory, sending it out of the avalanche's main path and up, then back down the slope of a neighboring dune, skidding to an awkward, spinning stop about a quarter of the way from the dune's base.
As Data drove to meet them, the children saw the enemy speeder's doors pop open and two very wobbly figures slide out in a rush of coarse sand.
"Excellent," Data commented, and straightened in his chair. "You know, I really am feeling much better now...as if some metaphysical weight has lifted from my chest. Perhaps it is better to 'vent' one's inner feelings rather than hold them in...even at the risk of enduring judgment...even fear...from others. I will have to discuss this episode with Deanna. In the meantime..."
Data pressed the external comm button, and smiled down at the disoriented criminals.
"Greetings," he said. "This is Lieutenant Commander Data, of the Federation Starship Enterprise. You have both violated Federation law. Prepare to be taken into custody."
"Shit, we've been chasing the Feds," Rizzul groaned dizzily, his nearly drained phaser rifle still clutched close to his chest. "Damn Rangers must have called 'em in. Bloody traffic cop bastards... The Boss-man's gonna skin us for sure."
"If we are taken by Federation authorities, we will be labeled traitors, even if we should escape or be released," 'Poug recited. "Father tortures all traitors."
"And we already know what the Big Man's got in mind for us," Rizzul said, and looked straight into the Nausicaan's eyes. "But, if we're going down, those Feds up there are going with us. You get me, 'Poug?"
"Got it," the hulking being agreed, and rose shakily to his knees, lifting his bruised and bleeding arms in the air in the standard Federation gesture of surrender. Rizzul did the same thing, hiding the rifle under his legs as he watched the Fed speeder slowly descend...
"Stay where you are," Data warned the children as he gently settled their speeder on the sloping, unstable sand. "I will go incapacitate our prisoners, and tie them in restraints."
"What about their phaser rifle?" Kahlestra said. "I don't think that's the stun setting they've been using."
"You are correct. But, the beams I observed were not full strength," Data assured her. "After all this exertion, their phaser rifle's power reserve must be nearly drained. But, even if they do manage to fire, I am more than capable of dodging."
Kahlestra regarded him, a small smile creasing her mouth.
"I believe you are," she said.
"Wait - where are you going to put them?" Ishta asked. "It's not like we have room."
"They can ride in the storage compartment," Data said, much to the children's satisfaction, and pressed the control to open the door.
"They're coming out," Rizzul said, and grabbed his weapon. Firing his last energy bolts at his own speeder's plasma tank, he shouted: "Eat shrapnel, you Federation bastards!"
"Oh, shit!" Data gasped, and dashed back to his seat with inhuman speed, his fingers already flying over the controls. "Phaser fire, physical attack...certainly. But, this, I did not expect," he exclaimed, piloting their speeder out of harm's way just as the brilliant gold and green explosion consumed Rizzul, 'Poug, and their damaged speeder. Flaming bits of the vehicle flew everywhere, but only a few impacted with the fleeing speeder, and those were mostly glancing blows. Data's bigger concern was riding out the violent turbulence.
"Whoa..." Mikey gasped, once the awful shaking finally began to ease.
Kahlestra stared at the burning wreck, her head shaking slowly back and forth in disbelief.
"By Kahless...
"Holy shit!" Ishta shrieked. "Those idiots just blew themselves up! They actually blew themselves up rather than be taken away to some cushy Fed jail! I heard the Boss-man had his goons brainwashed, but to actually—"
"I believe it was their intent to blow us up as well," Data said, his golden eyes still wide with shock. "It could not be done with a nearly drained phaser, so they used their speeder as a bomb."
"There is an old Klingon saying: When backed against a ledge, always pull your enemy down with you," Kahlestra recited.
"Yeah, well those creeps weren't Klingons, and that sure wasn't any act of honor," Ishta said. "Come on, let's get out of this place."
"Agreed," Data said. "This latest adventure has taken us quite a distance from our established course, but if I maintain a speed of eighty kph, we should still be able to make it to the compound by sunrise. Does that sound acceptable to you?"
The children cheered and started up a happy chatter, their near-death experience already all but forgotten.
Data smiled, then looked over at Howard, who had ridden out the entire episode with all the flat detachment of a tricorder. His smile faded, and he sighed.
Howard may not have been the brightest bulb...more than likely, he was not even sentient. But he was diligent, and always ready to serve. Perhaps, at the compound, Data could replicate him a replacement arm.
He wondered if the robot would be pleased.
He wondered if there was still a compound to return to...
To Be Continued...
References include - TNG: Encounter at Farpoint; The Measure of a Man; Datalore; The Offspring; The Most Toys; Descent; Birthright I; Redemption II; Best of Both Worlds; Disaster; the movies Generations, First Contact, and Star Wars IV: A New Hope (with Rifftrax); and the 1952 song "When I Fall In Love" by Victor Young and Edward Heyman, featured on Brent Spiner's 1991 CD "Ol' Yellow Eyes Is Back."
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