The Complication

by CharlieFenwick

Data struggles to reconcile the discrepancies between Tasha's verbal and nonverbal communication during and after the events of Ligon II. "Am I the 'complication?" Data asked. Data begins to develop emotions. Tasha/Data fluff & angst. Data/Geordi friendship. Covers the events of TNG season 1 with- missing scenes, original adventures, and some mild AU retelling of events.

86. Diabolus ex Machina

Author's Note: Wow. A million words. I'm so grateful for all of you.

You have my sincerest gratitude for all your interest and support on this series.

And now part two…

---

"I've analysed the firing pattern and I believe we are dealing with a weapons system created by the manufacturers on Minos," Worf announced.

"You're suggesting this is artificial intelligence?" Deanna inquired.

"And what? It's gone rogue?" Miles asked.

Worf paused. Their conversation was starting to tread down a path he had no desire to explore.

"I am not really qualified to determine what it is or isn't," Worf said, choosing his words carefully. "Nor can I speak to its motivation."

"But?" Geordi prompted.

He understood Worf had a reason for introducing this information.

"Minos has always specialised in producing complete weapons systems – both for defensive and offensive purposes," Worf explained.

Their products were known far and wide. The Minosian people had a passion for never ceasing in their pursuit to create a bigger, better, more deadly weapon.

But defensive technology was where the money was at. For the bulk of people on the Enterprise, the accumulation of wealth was a strange concept – especially when it came from dealings arms.

Yet even planets with no use or desire to make war still had defensive needs. Planets from the likes of Parliament to Risa depended on orbital defence systems from Minos.

"There was a lot of speculation about a new weapons platform from Minos at the last Tactical Conference on Andor," Worf shared.

He and Tasha hadn't given it much thought – promises of smarter, more efficient killing systems came and went.

This new system from Minos had been pitched as a game-changer, something that would shake up the industry. Details were scant because it was still in the R&D phase.

But what little information that had leaked out shared a number of alarming similarities to their mysterious attacker.

"It was said to utilise a revolutionary new predictive AI with orbital, ground, and surface-to-air delivery systems," Worf said. "Highly advanced. Unstoppable."

"Well advanced is right," Miles said as he sat forward. "Whatever it was, it used some sort of transport inhibitor to interfere with our system."

"And it's responsive enough to elude a phaser lock," Lieutenant Jae added.

"Mmm," Geordi murmured in agreement.

He turned his attention to Miles.

"How are the repairs coming?" Geordi asked.

With his duties on the Bridge and the inability to use the Transporters, Geordi had tasked Miles with temporarily overseeing the Engineering section.

"We sustained heavy damage to aft portion of the ship," Miles answered.

Decks Seventeen through Twenty-three had taken a considerable hit.

"We've evacuated what we can and sealed off those portions of the ship where the hull fractured," Miles said. "But we've got people trapped on Deck Twenty-three. And with the transporters down, I can't beam them over to a safer part of the ship."

Secondary life support reserves were functioning for the moment – but it was a far cry from a long-term solution.

As much as Geordi wanted to fly back to Minos and rescue the away team, Geordi recognised that saving lives on the ship had to come first.

They wouldn't be able to reach the team until either the Transporter was functioning again, or they had repaired the damaged to the hull.

"ETA on repairs?" Geordi asked.

"We've got teams working on the fractures, but it will be another two hours before that section can be sealed and repressurised," Miles said.

"Then that's our priority," Geordi said. "I want an update in an hour. Dismissed."

The team got up to leave.

"I'll be along in a moment, I just need to check in with Doctor Selar," Geordi advised as the group dispersed back to their assignments.

With Beverly trapped down on Minos, Doctor Selar had stepped up to oversee Sickbay – a Sickbay that was presently full of wounded.

Geordi detached his VISOR and set it down on the surface of the table. Normally Geordi felt confident because of the visual cues his VISOR offered.

He had learned to interpret not just body language, but also temperature and heart rate to study the reactions of others.

But on a day like today, his VISOR was a bitter reminder of just how dire their situation was. Geordi was an Engineer – not a Captain.

And he was young. It was no secret there were plenty of other older engineers that saw Geordi's posting as Chief Engineer as a mistake.

It was part of why he worked so hard to overcompensate by taking on additional duties and trying his best to create a team atmosphere in Engineering.

Only there wasn't time to establish that camaraderie now. He couldn't charm his way to confidence and the crew wasn't about to entrust him as readily as they did for the likes of Commander Riker.

Whenever Geordi looked at them, he could see they were afraid – rapid eye movements, elevated heart rate and breathing, an increase in body temperature.

It all weighed on him.

Geordi was keenly aware that he had a responsibility to more than just the crew. There were over a thousand people on board including civilians and children.

Returning to Minos without a sure-fire plan to destroy the weapon put all of them at risk.

"La Forge to Doctor Selar," Geordi said as he tapped his combadge.

There was a brief pause.

"Lieutenant?" she responded a moment later.

She was always direct.

"Any update?" Geordi inquired.

"We've treated thirty-nine crew members for minor lacerations, sprains, and other impact-related injuries from the initial attack," Selar reported. "I'm keeping an additional six personnel here under observation for moderate injuries and three more that sustained serious injuries. I believe Lieutenants McCormick and Reid will make a full recovery in time."

They had been in Main Engineering when the ship had been hit. The two had been thrown and suffered severe burns during an effort to stabilise the conduits on the coolant control system.

There was a pause.

"I've already informed Ensign Lu'vek's husband that her wounds are too severe. She requires care beyond our abilities and the odds of recovery are slim," Doctor Selar said.

Ensign Lu'vek was an Orion operations specialist that had rushed to provide assistance to the Tactical Relay Station near the primary Torpedo Bay. It wasn't her job – but she had stepped up to fill in after one of the Security officers suffered a concussion.

Wrong place at the wrong time.

"Thank you, Doctor," Geordi said. "Keep me posted."

His voice was upbeat, but it was masking just how wretched Geordi felt.

Geordi leaned back in his seat. He massaged his temples as he weighed his options.

There was a soft knock at the doorframe.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Deanna offered.

Geordi sat upright.

"Just making a quick adjustment," Geordi lied as he reached for his VISOR.

"You know Captain Picard I converse. It doesn't make one any less commanding. It's my job to counsel the Captain – including Acting Captains," Deanna said.

Geordi got up from his seat at the table and strolled over to the window. He had opted for his usual seat during the meeting rather than taking the standard position at the end of the table.

"You know the sun's going down soon on Minos," Geordi remarked as he gazed out at the stars. "I just don't feel right about leaving them there overnight."

"None of us do," Deanna assured him. "But you made a choice to protect the Enterprise. We can't help them if we're destroyed."

Deanna was right – but it did little to ease the burden of Geordi's conscience.

"Walk me through what you are thinking," Deanna requested. "Sometimes it helps Captain Picard to voice conflicting ideas aloud."

Geordi kept his attention fixated on the window.

"Right now, all of our efforts are focused on reaching the crew trapped on the lower decks," Geordi said. "That's gonna take time."

He paused.

That was the easy part.

Regardless of how he chose to proceed, saving the crew on the Enterprise came before anything else. It was the 'after' that had Geordi on edge.

"If we were to go back to Minos, we would need a plan of attack. It would require some serious repair work because we're going to take a beating. And we still don't know how to get around the transport inhibitor," Geordi explained.

Worf was working overtime to sort it all out.

"We still don't know what this is or even how it operates," Geordi concluded.

Geordi sighed in exasperation.

"If we were anywhere else, any other system back in Federation territory we could radio for assistance – go back there with additional ships and even the odds," Geordi said.

He turned to Deanna.

"But we're not," she said, finishing his thought.

They were several days out of Federation space in a relatively unoccupied part of space. If they were to call for backup, there was no guarantee that Starfleet would authorise such a support mission.

And even if Starfleet were to dispatch help, it would take days or even a week to reach them.

"Captain Picard and the away team could be dead by then," Geordi said.

Geordi shook his head. That was not acceptable.

"And if I turn over the ship to someone like Logan, he's going to take us right back down through the corridor and onto Federation space to a starbase. Starfleet will declare them missing, we'll be assigned a new Captain," Geordi fumed. "And in a few months' time after a few quick scans of the planet, Captain Picard, Data, Tasha, and Commander Riker will be declared dead."

Geordi squared his shoulders.

"That is not going to happen," Geordi declared.

He wasn't about to give up and leave his friends there. He couldn't let the Captain down and Geordi refused to give up on them.

He froze as self-doubt crept into the back of his mind. Geordi knew he couldn't abandon the team – only he couldn't reconcile his determination to save them against his responsibility to the Enterprise.

"What's wrong?" Deanna prompted.

"I don't want to order anyone else into danger," Geordi confessed.

Deanna sat back on the edge of the table.

"Geordi, Captain Picard left you in a Command for a reason," Deanna said, hoping to bolster his self-esteem.

"Yeah, I was in the Transporter Room," Geordi said, dismissing her praise.

"He trusts you," Deanna countered.

"I was convenient," Geordi remarked.

He put his hands on his hips and groaned.

"Captain Picard probably thought he would be back up here in minutes," Geordi said.

Deanna could sense that Geordi wasn't trying to be humble – he genuinely believed that.

"Geordi, the Captain knew what he was doing. Any time he steps foot off this ship, he knows there is a possibility that emergencies may occur," Deanna reminded him. "Now he could have left any duty officer in charge, but he chose you."

Geordi reached up to scratch the back of his neck.

"Captain Picard trusts you. He trusts your judgement," Deanna assured him.

"I should be down there in Engineering," Geordi said.

"Your team is seeing to the repairs, Captain," Deanna said.

"I just don't feel right not doing anything," Geordi said as he shook his arms out.

He'd been jumpy ever since they had retreated from Minos. Geordi couldn't bear standing around, feeling useless.

"Then relinquish command to one of the duty officers," Deanna said in a firm voice. "You said it yourself - they will take the Enterprise back to Federation territory. We will leave here. Is that what you want?"

"I want to go back and get the away team," Geordi snapped.

"Then you know what you have to do," Deanna said.

---

Ship's log, supplemental. Lieutenant La Forge in command. After an attack from an unknown assailant around Minos, we were forced to break orbit – leaving Captain Picard, Commander Riker, Lieutenant Commander Data, Doctor Crusher, and Lieutenant Yar on the planet.

We have fallen back to a position in orbit around the third planet in this system where we will complete repairs and attempt to determine just how this assailant has managed to disrupt our transporter functions.

After that, I must find a way to do the impossible.

It is far too great a risk to take the Enterprise back to Minos. I cannot send the saucer section back to Federation space alone. And I will not abandon Captain Picard.

---

"I say, I think we may be in business, Doctor!" Picard said brightly.

He rubbed his hands together in triumph and clicked to turn on the computer terminal. There were a handful of operational emergency lights still running inside the facility.

Jean-Luc had successfully managed to tap into that lighting system and reroute power to a computer terminal.

It had come about through a mix of ingenuity, hard work, and a bit of sheer dumb luck.

And it had taken several attempts. There had been a number of false starts and one instance in which he'd nearly shorted out the system.

But now it blinked to life, humming as the processor whirled and clicked. The sound was loud, and Jean-Luc suspected it hadn't been used in a while.

If the layer of dust was any indication it had been some time since anyone had used this terminal.

"Now then, let's see if we can find out what this place is," Picard mused aloud. "We may even be able to contact the Enterprise."

There was no response.

"Doctor?" Jean-Luc shouted back over his shoulder.

She didn't answer.

"Beverly?" he hollered.

Jean-Luc was keen to investigate – but Beverly's silence was disconcerting.

He rushed back across the underground structure and was at her side in a flash.

"Beverly," he said, gripping her shoulder.

She blinked, disoriented from the pain and loss of blood.

"So tired," she said.

"Come on, stay with me," Picard urged. "Come now, stay awake. That's an order!"

He was hesitant to give her too firm a shake due to the extent of her injuries. And for personal reasons, Jean-Luc was reluctant to get too close.

"It's dark. Night-time," Beverly observed.

Her speech was slurred.

"Yes, the sun has gone down," Jean-Luc advised.

They had considerably less light than before. There was no sliver of a moon. And with all the mist, there was almost no light penetrating into the cavern.

"I must have lost a lot of blood," Beverly said.

She was freezing. And it was difficult to stay awake. In an effort to hang on, her brain had switched into autopilot.

It was easier for her to assess her own condition and ignore her fears by focusing on the medical aspect of it.

"I stopped the bleeding," Jean-Luc said.

Beverly glanced down at her arm and realised that Captain Picard had applied a rudimentary splint.

"It's so cold," she repeated. "Help me, help me get this off."

She longed to shed her EV suit. Now that the suit was depleted, it had become thermally reactive. That meant all of the cold from the chilly, underground concrete floor had seeped into her suit and then into her bones.

It was like sitting in an icebox.

But Jean-Luc was reluctant to move her.

"I think you have another injury on your leg," Picard said.

It was impossible to know for certain without detaching the suit.

"At the moment, I think the suit is acting like a splint for your leg," Picard said. "It's keeping you still and secure and the cold is probably the only thing helping the pain."

"I need a clotting agent," Beverly said.

"I can't find your medical kit," Picard replied.

He'd searched extensively. The only thing he could think of was that it had flown out of her hands and was sitting somewhere above.

Beverly's head flopped to the side.

"I need you to help me out of this," Beverly insisted.

Her eyelids felt heavy, heavier than they had before. Each blink was a challenge to reopen them.

"Doctor, I can't just-"

"The patient is going into shock," Beverly slurred. "Multiple lacerations. Listen."

She paused and took a series of laboured breaths.

"Don't be… stubborn bastard," Beverly said.

Jean-Luc bit back a smirk.

"You're a terrible patient," he said.

He precisely what he was doing – egging her on to stay conscious, giving her a fight to stay awake.

"I think your bedside manner needs work," Beverly responded without missing a beat.

All EV suits offered emergency disconnect points. It was a necessity whenever injuries required access without the ability or time to wait for the user to strip it off.

Jean-Luc reached for the emergency access release on her left hip.

"This may hurt," Picard warned.

"Tell me something I don't know," Beverly replied.

Jean-Luc released the clamps and then moved down to her foot.

"Ready?" he inquired.

"Mmm hmm," Beverly nodded.

She closed her eyes. Clenching her fists, she braced herself for the incoming pain.

Only nothing happened.

Beverly opened her eyes and frowned.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You sure you're ready?" Picard asked.

He would need to slip the leg of her suit down and off. His hands were hovering above her foot.

"Yes," Beverly assured him.

Jean-Luc nodded and turned his attention back to her foot. Beverly watched as he took a deep breath and then froze just centimetres from gripping it.

"What is wrong?" Beverly demanded.

"Um, I'm just wondering if I were to.. erm, well. Maybe it would be better to-" he stammered.

"Oh, get on with it, man!" Beverly snapped.

She hissed as Captain Picard began to delicately remove the leg of the suit. He hesitated when he reached her knee.

"Don't stop," Beverly ordered through gritted teeth.

"Right," Picard said.

He hated to see her in pain – and felt even worse knowing he was the cause of it.

"Ah," Beverly called out.

He was having some difficulty getting it over her ankle.

"I'm sorry," Picard apologised. "Do you wish to take a break?"

Beverly's face was scrunched up in pain as she shook her head.

"No," she grunted.

Jean-Luc adjusted his grip.

"Three, two, one," he counted down.

Beverly cried out in pain when the leg finally slipped free.

Jean-Luc tossed it aside and scrambled up to sit next to her.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he repeated.

"Fine," Beverly managed to say. "I'm fine."

The jolt of pain had one advantage – it was helping to keep her alert.

Indeed there was a nasty injury on her leg – and a lot of blood. Having shed his own EV suit hours earlier, Jean-Luc ripped his pantleg and set to work making strips of fabric.

"Stay with me," he said, talking to Beverly as he tied off the wound.

It wasn't a long-term solution, but he was hoping to buy time.

"What do I do now?" Picard asked.

"Elevate the legs," Beverly instructed.

Jean-Luc glanced around for anything that might be of use. There were a number of objects that would suffice, though none of them offered much comfort.

After determining a downed support would work best, Captain Picard set to work. The heavy metal beam scraped against the concrete as he dragged it over to Beverly's position.

Then he carefully lifted her legs into position, one by one.

"Alright, what now?" Picard asked.

Beverly's eyes were closed as she rested back against the beam behind her.

"Beverly," Picard said, sliding up next to her.

"Mmmm?" she asked in a hazy voice.

"Stay with me," Picard pleaded.

Against his better judgement, he reached up to tuck her hair back behind her ear.

"Doctor," Picard said.

Picard could feel she was shivering.

"You didn't happen to bring a blanket, did you?" she asked.

She may have been fading, but her sense of humour was still there.

"I'll look for something," Picard offered.

He moved to pull away, but Beverly's fingers clutched the hem of his uniform.

"Stay," she requested. "I need to… I need to stay warm."

Jean-Luc froze as Beverly rested her head against his shoulder.

"Well, um, right," he said, clearing his throat.

Resigned that his investigation would have to wait, Jean-Luc settled in against Beverly. He knew it was important to keep her talking.

"Talk to me," Jean-Luc requested.

"I'm glad you're here," Beverly said.

"You know, a few paintings. Maybe a plant. This place could be a really nice little home," Jean-Luc said.

Beverly chuckled and then winced.

"Please don't make me laugh," she said.

"I'm sure Data and Tasha will have figured out a way to free Commander Riker by now," Picard said. "They're probably out looking for us at this very moment."

"Mmmm," Beverly murmured in agreement.

"We may be stuck down here for the moment, but we're not alone," Picard assured her.

---

Something rustled in the treeline. A lizard-like creature scrambled down out of the foliage. It stopped and blinked, its tongue darting out for a moment before crawling to the other side of the tree and disappearing into the night.

An owl called out in the distance.

Tasha wasn't sure how long she'd laid there on her knees.

She had wept until she felt numb – for Data, for his selfless act of sacrifice, and for the injustice of it all.

I walked away from all of it.

I did what I was supposed to do.

How is this fair?

Tasha had come to peace with sacrificing her need for adventure, her unending sense of duty, and her curiosity in order to prioritise her relationship with Data.

She had finally let go of the guilt that made her feel responsible for saving everyone all of the time.

She had turned her back on all of that because Data was more important.

"Is this my penance?" she shouted up at the stars.

It started the birds nearby who flew off into the dark sky.

Then there was only silence.

The feeling of isolation began to creep in, and Tasha realised just how alone she truly was. Data was gone. Captain Picard and Beverly had likely suffered the same fate as Commander Riker.

There was no village or encampment that she could travel to. All life on Minos had been wiped out.

Tasha glanced up at the sky to find it empty.

She didn't have the moon.

Tasha pulled herself to her feet and turned back toward the jungle.

Follow the path back.

It had been one of the last things Data had said. Now staring at the downed trees, sliced in two by the drone, Tasha understood what he meant.

She stepped back over to the ledge and studied the surface of the water again. A part of her knew it was foolish. There had been no sign of Data – not that he would have been able to float or swim anyways.

But he could walk along the bottom of surfaces.

Before Data and Tasha initiated their relationship, Data had spent some time with Geordi on Devala as part of a research project.

When their boat capsized on Devala Lake, Data had been forced to walk along the surface. He'd been missing for hours, and the entire experience had left him quite shaken.

Delava Lake was a small, man-made reservoir and only twenty metres deep.

There was no telling how deep the lake below really was.

He may have fallen hundreds, even thousands of metres.

Maybe.

Stranger things had happened.

Tasha stripped away her EV suit. At this point it was nothing more than dead weight. Then she glanced back over her shoulder at the treeline.

She turned back to take one last look at the lake.

"Please," she said aloud as she tucked her necklace back into her uniform.

---

The first thing Data noticed was an extreme shift in temperature.

His bioplast registered that it was sitting at a balmy 2°C – just above freezing.

Data also realised that he was submerged in water.

His bioplast acted much like human skin in that it protected his positronic matrix from moisture penetration. But that system was designed for standard submersion.

And not for prolonged periods of time.

Data moved his arms – his movement partially obstructed by the heavy sediment in which he landed.

The lake.

As his servos rebooted, it all came flooding back to him.

With considerable effort, Data managed to find his footing. He readjusted his optical receptors to account for the darkness and then tried to determine his whereabouts through the use of his internal spatial recognition sensor.

Only he was having a hard time keeping focused.

Being surrounded, encased even by the cold and the dark was all too reminiscent of his time in captivity.

Blue skies, smiling at me. Data thought, calling upon the song that had been his solace for strength.

He reminded himself that he was a free man. In fact, Data was more than just a free man – he was Second Officer of the USS Enterprise.

And he was not back in that box.

He had to find a way back in order to save Commander Riker, Captain Picard, and Doctor Crusher.

And Tasha.

Deciding on a course, Data began trudging along the bottom of the lake. It was slow going as there was so much soft sediment.

Each step placed an enormous strain on his synthetic musculature. Were it not for his superior strength, Data was certain that he would have been unable to continue moving.

Data had read extensively about Minos in the days leading up to their arrival. He recognised this must be Morze Lake. It was a rift lake formed millions of years earlier by fault movement on the once-tumultuous Minos.

Morze Lake was a deep, freshwater body home to more than one thousand species of fish, algae, bacteria, water snake, otters, and avian fauna.

Under normal circumstances the chance to explore a place of such rich biodiversity would be a dream come true. Data so rarely had the opportunity to use his Exobiology talents in the day-to-day operations of the Enterprise.

Most of what was known about the wildlife on Minos came from reports on the Minosian efforts to incorporate wildlife into their weapons technology.

Ancient Minosians used war elephants and large, trained cats to intimidate their enemies. There were reports of a moose-like creature with impressive and dangerous antlers capable of tossing enemies back.

The people of Minos didn't just stop there.

Their interest in weaponry and warfare extended beyond just offensive means of attack. They unleashed hordes of pigs to devastate the ecological systems of their enemies.

Some Minosians had once filled canopic-like jars with locusts. After delivering carts of them to a rival faction under the guise of a peace offering, they unleashed a plague that devastated crops.

In the modern era, the Minosians had attempted to train rats, canines, and even seals in bomb detection.

Starfleet frowned on such practices. And was another one of the reasons they had little to no relationship with the Minosians.

While Data personally abhorred such practices, their reports were one of the only reliable sources for information on the Minosian wildlife.

All of a sudden, Data paused.

There had been movement in the water. He could detect something was nearby.

Adjusting his optical sensors, Data tapped into his optoelectronic programme that enabled him to see clearly in the dark. Prolonged use of such technology was a drain on his power system.

Once again, there was movement in the water nearby.

And Data was concerned that the drone had survived.

Data turned to the left and spied a giant rock sturgeon. At three metres long, the bony scutes that ran along the length of its body stood in stark contrast to the dark that surrounded them.

Based on its long snout and slender body, Data surmised this particular sturgeon was still a juvenile. It would likely only increase in size as it aged.

And they could live for hundreds of years.

Magnificent. Data thought.

He tentatively reached out to run his hand along its body, feeling for the contrast between the smooth, scaleless skin and the tough line of scutes.

The fish bolted and Data was left standing alone.

Alas. He lamented.

As Data turned to keep going, he realised that if he truly were to be stranded alone on Minos that at least he could spend his last days surrounded by the lush wilderness and all the creatures that lay within.

It was small comfort and hardly made up for his separation from Tasha.

Data could only hope that she had managed to free Commander Riker and return to the Enterprise. He was certain that the ship would have figured out how to overcome any transporter issues by now.

Resigned to keep moving, Data swallowed his fear and pressed on.

---

"W-we think we can speed up the transporter lock a-a-and that would cut it down to a tenth of a second," Reg Barclay reported.

Geordi had assembled a small team of engineers to meet with him in the Observation Lounge for an update.

While Miles was overseeing Engineering operations to repair the damage to the Enterprise, Geordi had assigned his best diagnostic engineer to another project.

They needed to limit their exposure to this drone-like adversary. It had done more than enough damage with the shields and deflector at maximum power – and they couldn't beam the away team up while the shield grid was active.

It was only one of the problems they were facing. But in a day filled with such awful news, Geordi was willing to take the victories where he could find them.

"Alright, we're in business," Geordi said.

Geordi's moment of celebration was cut short by the reaction of one Sonya Gomez.

"What?" Geordi asked.

"We have a new problem," Sonya said.

She could sense that Geordi already had a full plate and did not want to add any additional stress. But Sonya also recognised she was obligated to report her findings.

"After analysing the data from the transporter logs, I'm fairly confident that they're using a dampening field in conjunction with a transport pattern scrambler," Sonya said. "So even if we overcome the dampening field that's preventing a lock, we won't, well, we shouldn't try beaming any of them back."

She paused long enough to gulp for air.

Pattern scramblers were defensive technology. They interfered with the rematerialisation process. In some cases, these devices were programmed to permit certain patterns to move freely as an added measure of security.

But they were difficult to maintain and the slightest malfunction could lead to nasty consequences.

"There's probably a power source on the surface. The team would need to deactivate or at least disrupt the signal to the pattern scrambler. But in order to do that, they need to know its there," Sonya went on. "And we can't send them instructions because the dampening field is blocking our communications."

Sonya stopped and bit her lip.

"The dampening field is specific to the planet, but the pattern scrambler has been downloaded into the ship's computer," Sonya shared.

It was why they couldn't use the transporters to rescue the crew trapped in the lower decks.

A dilemma indeed.

"We're running some simulations on Wesley's idea for launching a comms booster in the probe and we're analysing the logs to see if we can decipher the scramble sequence," Miles added. "I've got Vance, MacDougal, and Shimoda working on it now."

They were three fine engineers, but Geordi knew that scramblers were advanced. It could take weeks to isolate a way around.

"So far the sonic torches are holding. We're working as fast as we can, but it's going to be tight," Miles advised.

They'd run into problems with equipment failures, and it was delaying the progress of the repair team.

"Then we can begin to repressurise the area and get them out of there," Miles said.

It was a race against the clock because in less than three hours the trapped crew would be dead.

"Alright, let's keep working. Reg, I want you to join the team working on the pattern scrambler," Geordi ordered.

"S-sir, wouldn't I be more help on the repair team?" Reg asked.

"Those people are running out of time. We need to get our transporters back up and running in case there are any more delays," Geordi said.

Reg and Sonya exchanged a glance.

"Sir, there's really only one person that could analyse the pattern scrambler and isolate a safe solution in that time," Reg reminded him.

Data.

"I only mentioned because we may not, um, we may not be able to isolate it in time," Reg said. "It's completely overridden our system. If we had another ship-"

Reg trailed off and shrugged.

"We're at least a week and half out from any backup," Geordi reminded him.

"No, that's it," Sonya said.

Sonya turned her attention to the wall and began snapping her fingers.

"We just need to use another ship!" she said.

No one quite followed her line of thinking, but they weren't about to shut it down. Sonya had a proven reputation for unconventional yet brilliant ideas.

"The transporter systems on the shuttles are isolated from the computer mainframe," Sonya explained.

Miles raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly.

"Aye, that could work," he remarked.

The scrambler had infected the Enterprise computer and therefore the transporters – but that meant it was specific to that transporter.

It would have no effect on anyone else attempting to beam out the other crew.

"Let's run a test first with one of the living matter samples from the arboretum before we try it with any of the crew," Geordi requested.

"Right away," Sonya said.

"Great work, Ensign," Geordi said as he flashed her a smile.

Sonya responded with a coy smile before the team turned to leave.

"Chief, one moment please," Geordi said, stopping Miles just shy of the door.

"Sir?" Miles prompted.

Geordi sat down on the edge of the table. He needed someone to bounce ideas off of – and he needed someone he could trust.

"Whatever is out there gave us a serious beating," Geordi said. "I can't risk taking the Enterprise back there and I won't abandon the Captain."

Geordi had no idea what to do.

"I've already gone through and back again on our options. The Captain's yacht is not strong enough to withstand that level of damage," Geordi said.

The yacht was a decent vessel, more sophisticated and heavily armed than a standard shuttle. But she was hardly designed to take those hits.

"Separate the saucer?" Miles suggested.

"I've considered that," Geordi confessed. "But I don't trust the saucer section to make it back through that corridor."

Between the gravitational issues and the number of hostile ships, it was far too dangerous. And the journey would take close to a month on impulse engines. Power would have to be rationed to last that long running on just the internal primary hull power sources.

"Why not separate the ship and come back for the saucer? Then we can all go home together," Miles suggested.

"I like the optimism, but what if we don't come back?" Geordi asked. "What if this weapon destroys the drive section? I can't leave the saucer floating out here with no protection."

"Pish," Miles said, waving him off. "The saucer isn't completely without hope. She's got phaser arrays and the main deflector."

Miles may have come across as crusty at times, but he was perhaps the most hopeful of all of them. For O'Brien, he never lost faith that things would always work out.

"I just don't know what to do," Geordi confessed. "And none of these options are great. Worf thinks there may be some Breen ships headed for the area. It's too early to tell if they're coming this way or simply headed for the Starport on Finnea."

Geordi grumbled.

"And I don't have to tell you what the Breen would do if they found the saucer section floating helpless and unprotected," Geordi remarked.

"So we keep an eye on it," Miles said. "It's a fifteen-minute jump at Warp Nine. You could be back here in no time," Miles said.

"I wish I had your confidence," Geordi said in earnest.

Miles shrugged.

"Trust the ship. Trust the crew," Miles said. "Starfleet knows we're out here. If things don't work out, they'll send another ship to investigate."

"And we can end up like the Drake? No, thank you," Geordi replied.

Geordi's shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry, Chief. I didn't mean to-"

"No need to apologise," Miles assured him.

"It's just that if we separate, I'm going to have Logan or somebody like him in charge of the saucer section," Geordi explained. "I'm worried he won't follow my orders."

It was a valid concern.

Lieutenant Commander Logan had already made clear where he stood on Geordi's authority.

Geordi couldn't very well leave Worf in Command – he needed him to help rescue the Captain. Lieutenant Hawk was also an able duty officer, but Geordi would require his expertise as well for the mission back to Minos.

"I'm beginning to understand why Commander Riker is always so opposed to Captain Picard leaving the ship," Geordi said.

"You know you don't have to leave a guy like Logan in charge," Miles said.

"But I have no guarantee he won't try and bully the next person into relinquishing command," Geordi replied.

"Then appoint someone you trust, someone that guys like Logan can't intimidate," Miles suggested.

---

When he finally emerged from the lake, Data found himself inside a cave. He immediately identified it as a karst-type cave carved from the groundwater slowly dissolving the limestone. It would have taken millions upon millions of years and likely came from the same source as the powerful river above.

Data couldn't help approaching the cave wall to admire the various sedimentary layers on display.

He gasped softly as he traced the outline of the fossilised cartilage and teeth that had once been the jawline of a Saivodus striatus, a large ctenacanth shark.

Data felt a pang of sorrow as touched this ancient wall. The Minosians had conducted so little study of their own world. The people of Minos had devoted their lives to the study of weapons and defensive technology, neglecting all the archaeological treasures and natural wonders of their own planet.

Starfleet had always proclaimed that it was not a military organisation.

And indeed since its earliest days, Starfleet officers and the vessels that carried them were dedicated to discovery, diplomacy, and scientific research.

But in his own experience, the bulk of Starfleet's R&D was invested in arms, defensive technologies, and creating faster, more powerful ships.

Starfleet was relied upon to maintain a fragile peace – often become embroiled in conflicts in strategic ways that toed right up to the line of the Prime Directive.

Data had first joined Starfleet at a time of great political upheaval. The Klingons-Romulan alliance had started to crumble. Hostilities with the Cardassians had just started to increase – leading to the Setlik III massacres and culminating in the start of the Border Wars.

And Starfleet's first attempt at negotiating peace with the Jarada ended in bloodshed and a twenty-year period of silence between the two powers.

It was during this time that Data had established himself as a competent Operations officer. Though exobiology was his main passion, his skills as an engineer and Bridge officer combined with his knowledge of Starfleet protocol had meant he was frequently assigned more Operational and Bridge duties over his own scientific pursuits.

Peace with the Klingons and a shift in the Border Wars had fundamentally changed Starfleet. The last decade in particular had marked a distinct shift.

New ships, including the Galaxy-class vessels, offered greater opportunities for both families and civilians.

And Data had finally gotten the chance to put his exobiology skills to greater use.

His appointment to the Enterprise had given Data a healthy balance between his scientific and engineering pursuits.

The looming threat of the Romulans threatened to upend that peace. Data had no desire to see Starfleet return to the militarised atmosphere that had dominated the 2330s and 2340s.

One of his biggest fears was that Starfleet could so easily go the way of Minos - not necessarily in the sense of extinction, but rather the heavy investment in a military-industrial complex at the expense of science, the humanities, and discovery for the sake of discovery alone.

Though if I never leave Minos, then I will forever be free to explore my own interests here. Data thought.

Data resigned himself that such pursuits would have to wait. He had an obligation to find Tasha, rescue Commander Riker, and find out what had happened to Doctor Crusher and Captain Picard.

It was also possible that there were more of those drones out there. If so, they wouldn't be safe on the surface. But the more he studied the cave, the more Data realised it may provide a place of temporary safety – at least until the Enterprise returned or Starfleet sent another vessel to investigate.

Data was trying to remain upbeat.

He turned to head back out of the cave. He would follow the rocks until he reached the mouth and then attempt to climb out and up along the rocks. It would be a long climb – but he couldn't very well swim out.

He was about to go when something caught his eye.

Data leaned in close and studied a mark that was both familiar and highly out of place.

Scorch marks.

And they were caused by a phaser.

Data walked along the wall, following the line of fire. He found the fragments of something on the ground.

Analysis determined the fragments were duranium-coated polymer.

"Most interesting," Data thought.

Caves were often archaeological goldmines. But the people of Minos had no interest in such things, and it didn't make sense that there would be any modern technology in the cave.

Drawn to find what other clues might lay ahead, Data abandoned his plan to exit the cave and continued further in.

He had only gone a few metres when he found more fragments. They were still duranium coated polymer – but the duranium plating was of a thicker grade.

Like a child following breadcrumbs, Data found the cave floor was littered with fragments.

1.27 centimetres thicker plating.

Duranium and tritanium allow plating.

Reinforced polymer with hardened tritanium under a duranium cover plate.

Data dropped to his knees and crawled along the floor. Each new piece offered clues of something that had been destroyed with increased construction. There were also signs of both disruptor and phaser fire on the floor and the rock walls.

He suspected the fragments were pieces of destroyed drones. There was no other reasonable explanation.

The drones that littered the floor may have been long destroyed – but they offered clues. Something or someone had destroyed them. And it gave Data an idea of what may be yet to come.

Utterly consumed by his quest to find answers, Data ran straight into a wall of solid tritanium.

Data sat back and glanced up.

"Fascinating," Data breathed.

He lifted his hand and rested it against the cool surface.

It was a giant orb not unlike the drones they had seen before. But Data suspected this was far too heavy to fly without a significant power source.

The orb had to be at least five metres in diameter. It was more than twice the length and height of Data.

Data pulled himself to his feet and strolled around the object to study it. He did his best to remain silent as he was unsure whether the device was truly dormant or not.

His fears were alleviated when he noticed a chunk of the object's 'eye' had been blown away. Given the size and shape of the object, it was likely that this 'eye' served as both a scanner and phaser bank.

Fortunately, the break provided him a chance to study the inner workings of the drone.

Data leaned in close and began to denote every part of it to memory.

A weak point. Data realised.

---

Tasha stopped just shy of the edge of the treeline. She was crouched behind a large trunk and had been monitoring the sky for any sight or sound of a drone.

She had waited there so long that her joints began to ache.

Four, nine, seven, seven, one, three, two, six.

Looking at Data's phaser, Tasha understood now that part of his final words were the instructions on how to free Commander Riker.

Data had given her the resonance frequency, phaser setting, and length of time needed.

It was all right there.

Though in the spirit of her newfound cautious approach to life, Tasha was reluctant to just dive in. There was no telling what new kind of drone freeing Riker would produce nor how much time they would have to hide.

If there is anywhere to hide. Tasha thought.

It certainly didn't feel like it.

For Tasha, the whole experience was eerily like some of her darkest days on Turkana - traversing the jungles and dusty plains on her own as a courier had often meant hiding rather than fighting.

Only here she was hiding from a drone that was likely capable of scanning her heat signature.

And the only resource she had was the jungle itself.

Tasha's eyes went wide.

The jungle.

Tasha doubled back on her path. They previous drone had given her everything she needed.

Tasha dropped to her knees and pulled a blade from her boot. Stabbing at the ground to loosen the soil, Tasha set to work.

It wasn't long before she had worked up a sweat. Her shoulders were already starting to go sore, but Tasha knew she had to keep moving.

Because of the EV suit, Tasha had been forced to forgo the usual small canteen and protein bars she keep stashed on her person.

Of all the times to be without a snack. She grumbled.

---

Data was so engrossed in the circuitry of the drone that he didn't hear something emerge from the water. Normally, his audio receptors would have picked up on the sound.

But the advanced construction of the downed drone was so sophisticated it was unlike anything Data had ever laid eyes on.

The more he surveyed the damage, the more Data was convinced it was caused by a disruptor on overload. Such a move would have been what Commander Riker called a 'hail Mary.'

And from the rest of the down occupants in the cave – it didn't seem like it worked for long.

There was a mix of Minosian, Cardassian, and Breen bodies in varying levels of decay. It was impossible for Data to know for certain, but he suspected they'd been down there a while.

More alarming still was that another more powerful drone had likely come along to finish them.

Is there no end? Data thought.

He pulled from that thought by the sound of falling rocks. There was another drone. It was approaching fast, and Data had reached the end of the cavern. There was nowhere to go. He had nothing to defend himself with and had barely managed to survive against the last one.

Scanning the faces of the corpses that surrounded him, Data had no desire to become the next addition to this graveyard cavern.

The drone whizzed into the back of the cavern a moment later and scanned the area in a set pattern. It hovered in the air for an agonising two minutes before buzzing off.

Data was capable of maintaining perfectly still posture for an indefinite period of time. But he desperately wanted to move.

He'd never truly experienced an itch, but he reasoned this was close to it.

Nonetheless, he kept still albeit in a slack position.

Data considered that the drone may have merely been pretending to fly off as a ruse to lure him out. So Data was determined to remain sedentary for a while until it felt right.

He had never anticipated his exobiology experience would save him from a drone.

But in his moment of panic, Data had relied upon his knowledge of thanatosis, or the act of 'playing dead' in order to hide himself among the other bodies.

He manually released a rush of coolant to drop his body temperature and slowed his processing core.

It was a simple tactic – but one that proved to be remarkably effective.

---

The last thing Will Riker remembered was talking to his friend Paul.

Out of nowhere he dropped to the ground.

"Sir," Tasha said as she rushed over to him.

"What…what happened?" Riker asked.

Tasha slipped her arm under Riker's shoulder and helped him up to his feet.

"Sir, we need to move. This way," Tasha urged.

Thus far there hadn't been any sound of an approaching drone. But Tasha knew it was only a matter of time.

"What time is it?" Riker asked. "It hasn't exactly escaped me that it's now night."

"Sun's gone down. We need to move," Tasha said.

"Wow, just when I thought this place couldn't get any worse," Riker remarked.

Between the dark and the fog it was like stepping into a nightmare.

"Sir, we need to move," Tasha said in a firm voice.

To her dismay, Riker stopped and glanced around. He noted the downed trees and Tasha's absence of an EV suit – not to mention the fact she was alone.

"Tasha, where is Captain Picard? Data? Doctor Crusher?" Riker asked.

"We need to get out of here," Tasha said.

"How do I know you're not one of those things? Like Rice?" Riker demanded.

Before Tasha could answer, there was a terrifying mechanical sound. It was growing louder.

"What is that?" Riker asked.

"Run," Tasha ordered.

She grabbed his wrist and pulled him along through the jungle. Will Riker had no reason to trust her – but had also no reason not to trust her. And he figured since she was pulling him along rather than blasting or stunning him that this had to be the real Tasha.

"Do you know how to do a McCrorie blockade?" Tasha asked as they raced along.

Riker tried to wrap his head around such a strange question.

"Like Parrises Squares?" Riker asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," Tasha replied.

"Tasha, what does-"

"Slide!" she ordered.

Trusting his gut, Riker pushed himself into a slide – feet first along his leg just like he'd learned playing Parrises Squares as a boy.

Tasha followed suit – snagging the support that was holding her cover in place. It snapped shut overhead as they slid into the burrow Tasha had dug.

"Tasha, what the hell is-"

The rest of his question was muted as Tasha clamped her hand over his mouth.

"Shhh," she instructed, bringing a finger to her lips.

Riker listened as something buzzed overhead, hovering almost like a probe or drone. For a few tense seconds, they sat in silence while waiting for the noise to pass.

Riker used the time to survey the area. His eyes were just beginning to adjust to the dark. Overhead there were long, sturdy branches stretched across a pit. It was covered with layers of thick branches and underbrush to conceal their location.

The pit itself was constructed at an incline with a deeper drop off at the end.

As soon as the sound faded off into the night, Tasha sat back and caught her breath.

"What is going on?" Riker asked as he detached his EV suit helmet.

Tasha shook her head.

"These drones – they're getting stronger. Smarter," Tasha shared.

"That's what that thing is?" Riker asked.

"We tried to free you – several times. And each time one of those drones showed up. Bigger and badder than the last one," Tasha said. "We've lost contact with the Enterprise. It's been hours. I'm not sure how long to be precise."

Riker checked the ancient style timepiece he wore on his wrist.

"03:21," Riker said.

Tasha flopped back against the dirt.

She was completely knackered.

Riker glanced around their hovel.

"Tasha, did you erm… did you dig this?" Riker asked.

Tasha nodded.

"How many days was I-" Riker began to ask.

He could see the time. But his watch did not give him the date.

"It hasn't been a day yet," Tasha assured him.

"Where's everyone else? Hidden somewhere?" Riker inquired.

Tasha hesitated to answer.

"Tasha," Riker pressed.

"Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher disappeared hours ago after one of the drone attacks," Tasha explained. "I hope they're hiding somewhere."

She'd been holding out hope on that.

"If not, we have the frequency now to disrupt the stasis field," Tasha said.

All of sudden she frowned.

"Assuming that doesn't change too," she added as worry began to sink in. "And that's if we can even find them."

Saying it aloud was a cruel reminder of just how dire their situation was.

"Where's Data?" Riker asked.

He had noticed Tasha excluded that information in her answer.

"Are you alright?" Tasha asked, ignoring his inquiry.

"I'm fine. Just groggy," Riker said.

"There's a stream not far from here. We should collect some water and supplies. Then come back here and regroup," Tasha said. "Once we're rested, we'll look for Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher."

Riker was concerned.

She was too calm, far too collected – even for Tasha. It was like she was running on autopilot.

"We should get moving. I recall from the mission briefing that the sun will be up around 05:00," Tasha advised. "That doesn't give us a lot of time."

She knew it would be safer moving at night in the cover of darkness.

Riker wanted to press the issue of Data's whereabouts. But he also recognised they would need fresh water. It had been hours and they were already dehydrated.

"Alright, I'll follow your lead," Riker agreed.

---

Beverly groaned and tried to readjust.

"Please, stay still," Picard instructed.

"I'm sorry, I know," Beverly said.

She grumbled in frustration as she squirmed.

"Beverly," Picard said.

"Help me up," she requested.

Jean-Luc baulked.

"Please," Beverly insisted.

Jean-Luc had no idea what to say in response. She had a broken leg, a broken arm, and had likely suffered a concussion. Knowing Beverly as he did, Jean-Luc was not in the least bit surprised she was insisting on staying active.

She'd never been great at taking her own advice.

But he wasn't about to give in.

"You need to stay put," Picard said.

"I can't feel my backside," Beverly finally shared in a terse voice.

Her expression softened.

"Please?" she asked.

Jean-Luc begrudgingly slipped his arm around her waist. With considerable effort, he managed to pull her up to her feet.

They stood still for a moment as Beverly surveyed the cavern.

"Roomie," she said.

"Indeed," Picard agreed.

"What do you think this place is?" she asked.

"I'm not certain. I got that computer terminal working earlier," Picard said, using his head to indicate to the console built in along the wall.

"Well what are we waiting for?" Beverly asked with a wry grin.

---

The sun was just starting to peek out on the horizon when Data emerged from the lake.

He'd walked across the distance of it all the way to the water's edge on the far side of the cliff. It had not been his original plan. But Data was counting on the treeline to provide necessary cover.

The climb up the rock face would be hundreds of metres. It was completely exposed, and Data wasn't keen to try another fall from that height.

He had spent his entire career as an exobiologist studying both predators and their prey.

Never before had he felt so outmatched by another threat. His experience with Lore was perhaps the closest he had ever come to that feeling.

But even with Lore, they were evenly matched.

And there was only one of him. Data thought.

Assuming there was decent terrain and minimal interference from drones, Data estimated it would take him nearly half a day to discreetly make his way back up to their previous position.

From his study of Minos topography in the mission brief, Data figured he could follow a path with a steady incline and better cover if he headed East.

He hadn't been walking more than ten metres when he heard a drone. Data dove for cover against a large tree and listened as it passed overhead.

It is hunting. Data realised.

If his theory was correct, the drone would think the threat of Data was already eliminated. That meant it had gone back to hunt another target – one that hadn't been eliminated yet.

Tasha.

---

"Don't touch those," Tasha said, catching Commander Riker's wrist.

He had been inches away from picking some particularly juicy looking orange berries.

"We don't exactly have a lot of options out here," Riker reminded her.

"Do you see the way they're growing all individual-like?" Tasha asked as she gripped the base of the stem. "I can't be absolutely certain, but it's likely they're toxic."

Tasha dropped the stem.

"And the way these leaves grow in a pattern of three," Tasha went on. "I wouldn't eat it."

"Okay, and how do we know these aren't?" Riker asked, turning to another nearby plant.

"Those are likely fine," Tasha said as if it were nothing more than an ordinary conversation on the Bridge.

She turned back around and resumed collecting firewood, leaving Riker standing there in confused silence.

"If you want to eat you need to get on with it," Tasha said without turning around. "We don't have much time before the sun's up."

Tasha could sense his reluctance. She knew Riker didn't mean anything by it. It had been a disorienting experience to come out of the stasis field and learn the Enterprise was gone, the rest of the crew was missing, and there was a murderous drone on the loose.

"They're growing in clusters. That's a good sign," Tasha explained, anticipating his question. "And that dark colour means there's a high probability they're safe."

"Now you sound like Data," Riker teased.

He was filled with instant regret. The words had left his mouth before he'd even thought about the implications of that statement.

Tasha fell silent.

"Tasha-" he began to apologise.

"We need to get moving," Tasha urged.

---

Riker and Tasha sat across from one another. He was silent as Tasha carefully whittled off long curls of thin wood from a branch.

She dropped them into a hole in the ground where she'd stood her firewood up into a hollow pyramid. It didn't take her long to get some of the kindling going with her lighter.

Like a pro, she gently set it down in the middle and blew on it until their campfire had taken off.

Tasha stayed quiet as she set Commander Riker's EV suit helmet down almost over the fire. Without any cups or bowls, it was the best thing they had to boil water.

Then she pulled a tiny sharpening device from her boot, gave her blade a quick touch up and returned it to it's place safe inside her boot.

"Wilderness expert," Riker remarked. "You'll have to show me a few tricks."

"You should eat," Tasha said in response. "You'll need your strength."

"Alright, I'll eat but then we're going out to look for the rest of the team," Riker asserted.

For a moment, Tasha said nothing as she stared at Commander Riker. She knew it wasn't her place to question Commander Riker's judgement. With the Captain missing, he was in charge.

But she couldn't shake the notion that her survival expertise provided her with a unique insight that Commander Riker didn't share.

"Sir, I don't want to sound insubordinate," she began. "And we will look for the others."

Tasha paused. She scratched the inside of her wrist, brought her palms together, and then the tips of her fingers up to her mouth.

"We can't just go out there. We'll lose our way in the fog," Tasha cautioned. "We don't have geo sensors. Data and Beverly were the only two with advanced tricorders."

Tasha sighed.

"This," she said, gesturing to their hovel. "This is all we have right now. Our only defence is staying hidden. And we may have to face reality that we are on our own here – and may be for some time."

Riker's posture softened.

"Tasha, I'm sure it was scary being on your own out there last night. But we can't stay in this hole for-"

"That's not what I'm suggesting," Tasha snapped.

She grabbed for the stack of thin reeds they had hauled back from the river's edge and began tearing them into thin strips. Riker had assumed they were fire kindling as Tasha had insisted on loading up her back with them.

"We need to be able to find our way back here without getting lost," Tasha explained.

She knew that survival depended first and foremost on meeting their basic needs – clean water, food, temperature regulation, and a place to hide.

Surviving was the only way they would be able to find the others.

And Data.

Will Riker ate in silence as Tasha showed him how to weave the reeds into a thin rope. It wouldn't be stable enough to hold any weight – but it would suffice to tie around the trees as a guide.

"Do you have a blade?" Tasha asked.

Riker shook his head.

Some Starfleet officers carried them as part of their standard kit. Riker had never seen much use in it.

Tasha reached into her other boot and produced a second knife.

"Here," she said, handing it over along with the holster.

Riker adjusted the strap and opted to loop it through the hip of his uniform.

"Don't lose it," Tasha warned.

Riker nodded in understanding.

"I'm sure it's very important to you," he said.

Tasha stopped and lifted her head to meet his eyes. There was no good time to break the news, but she figured this was as good an opportunity as any.

"No, sir. I mean that we only have three knives. It's one of the only survival tools we have here and we're going to need it for everything from gathering supplies and defence to making tools," Tasha said in a serious voice.

The gravity of their situation had begun to set in.

"We will look for the others. But we can't help them if we're captured or killed," Tasha continued.

They both knew the clock was ticking.

If there was something preventing the Enterprise from beaming them back or communicating, then the Enterprise would continue to try for another forty-eight hours.

Then regulations would require the ship to report them as missing and turn over any search efforts to Starfleet Command.

If Starfleet sent another vessel to investigate it would be at least ten days before it arrived.

And if the Enterprise had been destroyed, it could be weeks or even a month before Starfleet became aware of her disappearance.

They both also recognised there would be no way for a ship to know there were survivors on the planet.

"I was thinking we could try to find the Minosian weapons research lab too. They're bound to have communications equipment and it might make a much better long-term shelter," Tasha said.

Long-term shelter.

Riker stopped eating and sat back against the dirt wall as the weight of such a prospect hung in the air.

Will Riker hated standing still. There was nothing more irritating than waiting. His days off were filled with self-imposed work because he couldn't stand not being busy.

The thought of waiting around, investing so much time in basic survival was enough to crush his hopes.

"I'm sorry," Tasha apologised. "I know it's a lot to take in, but we need to do this. And hiding that from you isn't fair."

"Sorry, I just," Riker paused and trailed off.

Long-term?

"I refuse to accept that," Riker declared.

He plastered a big grin on his face.

"This will be fun, T. Just you and me roughing it for a bit. By the time we find the others, we'll have a whole camp built," he said, putting on a jovial attitude to try and lighten the mood.

Only Tasha wasn't buying it.

"I need you to stay here and keep working on these ropes," Tasha said. "Also, I need the grappling line from your suit."

Riker was more than happy to part with that.

Tasha made short work of looping it around her arm.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Riker asked.

"Stay here. I'll be back in a few hours," Tasha said.

She was rattled by the events of the last twelve hours that she had fallen back into the same habits that had kept her alive on Turkana.

Tasha felt like she couldn't count on anyone – even an old friend.

"We should probably come up with a security question. Something we can ask ourselves so we can be sure we're not one of those things," Tasha suggested, recalling Data's idea.

On her way out of the door, Riker caught her wrist.

"Tasha, what happened to Data?" he asked.

"I don't know," Tasha said.

She stopped and turned her attention to her boots.

"I can tell you that all of my experience and training tells me something that I can't bring myself to say. Because saying it would make it real," Tasha confessed.

She paused and bit back tears that had been buried for hours – now threatening to spill over.

"But there's a part of me that is screaming this doesn't sit right," Tasha shared. "I would know."

She shrugged.

"I just, I feel like I would know," she said. "And until I see proof otherwise, I'm not ready to accept any conclusion."

Riker nodded in understanding and let her go.

Tasha shut the hatch on their hideaway and headed off into the jungle.

Along the way, she marked her path by carving an arrow in the bark of the trees. She said a silent prayer that Data, Captain Picard, and Beverly would understand – and that the drone wouldn't.

---

By midday, Data had only covered a few kilometres. He'd found the shell of a power relay station – using it for a time to hide as the drone continued its sweep of the area.

Unfortunately, the computer within had been damaged beyond repair and it yielded no information as to the whereabouts of the main manufacturing facility or any other information on Minosian structures.

However, Data was able to strip away some useful materials and there was a small toolkit that contained a sonic driver, a box wrench, and a micro-resonator.

Presently, Data was crouched low and hugging the shadow of a large rock as the drone made another sweep.

For the last seven hours, these overhead passes had proved a constant source of annoyance. They slowed his progress and there was an added level of anxiety that he would be discovered.

But as frustrating as this was, it offered Data valuable insight into the drone's behaviour.

And the fact it was still searching meant that Tasha was still out there.

Each pass overhead meant another seventeen minutes of her survival.

---

"And there is no guarantee that there are any survivors!" Commander Logan roared.

"There's no guarantee they aren't waiting for us. They could be hurt," Miles countered.

Geordi had assembled the duty officers and acting Departmental heads in the Observation Lounge for a debrief.

In spite of some initial hang ups, repairs to the Enterprise were now proceeding as expected. Sonya's plan to rescue the trapped crew had worked like a dream and they were presently receiving medical treatment in Sickbay under the care of Doctor Selar and her team.

"We should have the repairs completed in another two hours," Miles reported.

"But we've had no luck in deciphering the transporter scrambler embedded in the system," Reg advised. "We'd like to conduct a complete system cleaning and reboot in an effort to purge it from the ship's computers."

It was a longshot and desperate last attempt to try and fix the issue. It would take at least six hours to complete a full shut down, cleaning, and restart of the system to purge the scrambling programme.

But they were running out of time.

In forty-eight hours Geordi would be obligated to turn the investigation and rescue over to Starfleet.

"We need to get back to Federation space," Logan said.

"I think we're all aware that's your position," Deanna said.

Her tone was polite, but firm and designed to send a message that Logan's protests were starting to detract from the conversation.

He'd repeated the same complaint for the last twenty minutes of the briefing – inserting it at every possible opportunity and continually undermining Geordi's attempts to find a workable solution.

It had reached the point that Logan's behaviour was not adding anything new to the conversation and Deanna suspected he merely liked to hear the sound of his own voice.

"Commander, unless you have something new to add to the discussion, I request you make space for others at the table," Geordi said.

His first few hours in command may have been rocky, but Geordi had really grown into his own. He didn't quite feel it yet, but he was doing his best to project confidence for the rest of the team.

And it was working.

"Sir, I should add that the Breen ships we've been monitoring on long-range sensors appear to have diverted course to a bearing of oh five mark two three one," Worf reported. "I do not believe they pose a threat."

Based on their course heading, it seemed the Breen were indeed headed for the Starport on Finnea and had not detected the Enterprise.

"Alright. Maintain our current position and start the purge," Geordi ordered.

Everyone nodded in understanding and headed off to resume their duties. Though Logan said nothing on the way out, Deanna could sense his irritation. It radiated off him like a sour energy filling the room.

"Chief, a word," Geordi said as he pulled Miles aside.

Geordi waited until the room was clear.

"I need a favour," Geordi requested.

"Anything," Miles answered without missing a beat. "You know that."

---

Tasha kicked off the rock and belayed down along the side of the cliff.

Much to her dismay, the grappling line wasn't nearly long enough to get to the bottom of the cliff – and it was far too smooth and sheer for her to attempt a free climb down.

She would have to figure out another way to get down to the lake below.

Tomorrow. She resolved.

She didn't want to wait.

But Tasha had promised Will Riker she would be back in a few hours, and she knew that trekking off into the wilderness alone without supplies would benefit no one.

Data could be injured or trapped. Tasha was no engineer, but she knew that they stood no chance of survival if she couldn't get him to safety.

For a few moments, Tasha hung there suspended against the rocks as she tried to process the feelings she had buried since Data's sacrifice.

Tasha had tried to swallow them, to put them away in the wee box in the back of her mind where she compartmentalised her feelings. She had attempted to occupy her mind with busywork, focusing on survival and looking after Commander Riker.

But it wasn't enough.

She wasn't sure when the tears had started – only that they were there and clouding her vision. Tasha wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve and took a shaky breath.

Her shoulders were sore. Her back ached. It had been more than thirty-six hours since Tasha had last slept.

Don't go to pieces. She reminded herself.

Her hands were shaking on the line.

"Keep moving," she whispered aloud.

---

In the valley below, Data desperately wished he could keep moving.

The cover of foliage was growing sparse. Though he could predict the drone's search pattern, Data had no way of knowing its sensor range.

He'd gone as far as he could without significant risk of exposure.

There was an outcrop of trees huddled together about three hundred metres ahead. It would only take Data a few seconds to cover that distance at his top speed.

But was hesitant to make the dash given that it would require rushing across an open meadow.

There would be nowhere to hide. The mist that shrouded the jungle above wasn't nearly as sparse in this valley and Data knew his bioplast could reflect the sun.

It was like shining a mirror into the sky to signal a ship.

Data pressed his body flat against a large tree as the drone swooped by overhead.

He let his head fall back against the trunk of the tree as he waited in the shade. Data longed for the opportunity to rest his eyes, the chance to feel that he wasn't being pursued.

He had spent much of his career with little more than a storage closet to keep a few personal possessions and activate his rest programme for an hour or so every day.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate comfort. In fact, he had always found solace and pleasure in enjoying sensations like a soft blanket, a cosy armchair, and being submerged in warm water – even if he rarely got to experience such moments of joy.

But he found that ever since coming aboard the Enterprise, his neural pathways had become accustomed to the comforts of home, and it filled him with a mix of dread and longing as he was now denied those luxuries.

Years before he realised that he did have emotions, Data had once convinced himself that even the chance to experience feelings like fear, hunger, and exhaustion would be worth the pain if it meant feeling something.

Yet now that he was alone with nothing but these emotions, he was left to rethink such an assertion.

He wanted his pipe and the oversized throw blanket that was the perfect size for two. Data closed his eyes and thought back to his last night in Tasha's quarters, sipping hot herbal tea as Tasha read the latest chapter of Radioactive Cicada Swarm.

Data's perfect memory allowed him to relive the moment in stunning detail.

And it made the absence of that all the more profound.

Data allowed himself seven minutes and thirty-two seconds of reprieve. Based on the pattern of the last flyovers, the drone was approaching its farthest point from his present location.

That meant this would be his safest opportunity to make the dash.

Now or never.

With a burst of speed, Data took off as fast as his long legs would carry him – rushing across the meadow in a desperate attempt to reach the huddle of trees that stood in stark contrast to the open air around them.

When he reached the trees, Data collapsed against them.

He allowed himself the indulgence of a few moments respite before planning his next move. There was another small smattering of trees two hundred metres away and another possible spot. It was only fifty metres ahead – but it was also a lone tree and provided less cover.

Data tried to map the possibility of either route. He would have to continue that pattern – dashing from spot to spot while simultaneously trying to remain hidden from the drone.

As the drone passed overhead, Data closed his eyes and tried to slow the rising sense of hopelessness that was threatening to overwhelm him.

There was no breeze. The air was stagnant.

But he could smell vegetation and moisture as it clung to the leaves. There was a slight aroma of decaying wood from some of the plants that had naturally expired.

He could hear the hum of the drone. But if listened beyond that, Data could pick up on the sound of birds in the distance and an occasional call from a creature known as a black-footed margay. They were a small jungle cat no bigger than most domestic breeds and known to prey on rodents and other small mammals.

Reaching back, Data could feel the bark of the tree. And to his left, there was cool dirt under his hand. He picked some up, rubbing it between his fingers as a way to physically ground himself.

It was an exercise he had learned from Deanna and something he now routinely used whenever he felt trapped.

Data stayed in that position long enough that the drone passed overhead again.

He began to count the seconds as he waited for the prime opportunity to dash to his next hiding spot. After two minutes and fourteen seconds, there was a loud boom that echoed through the valley. It shook the trees and Data thought it sounded not unlike an explosion.

He waited in silence. His artificial breathing programme ceased entirely.

Straining his ears, Data heard a sound. It was as if something heavy were falling from the sky.

A moment later, something hit the dirt with a loud thud. A second later, another followed.

Then another.

It was like the sky was raining. It only lasted all of sixteen seconds – but it was enough to cause Data concern.

He carefully crawled to the edge of his hiding spot. There was a wee metallic orb that had impacted the dirt. Data debated whether or not to touch the object. He certainly didn't want to trigger anything – but he needed answers.

Before Data could make up his mind, the orb began to roll away.

Data watched as numerous orbs began rolling toward a central point approximately ten metres away. On the other side of the trees, the orbs were rolling in a different direction to another central point.

In fact, it was happening all over the valley.

As they came together, Data realised they were linking to one another – almost like components of a larger device or machine.

And then it started to come together – a central body, three legs, and three rotating arms. There were close to a dozen of them in total.

It was another two hundred yards to the next outcrop of trees and Data would have to pass by one of these machines to reach it.

Cautiously, he climbed up to the tree. He laid down against a thick branch and tried to make his body as flat as possible to hide under the cover of the leaves.

From his limited vantage point, it appeared these machines were now scanning the valley – surveying it inch by inch to find them.

And there was nowhere to run.

---

Almost there. Tasha thought.

She urged herself to press on. She was nearly to the top.

Tasha threw her arm and grasped for the cliff's edge – only a hand shot out to grip her own.

"Need a hand?" Riker asked.

Tasha was confused but relieved as Riker hoisted her up over the edge, pulling her to safety. She immediately flopped back against solid ground, breathing hard as she caught her first break of the morning.

Her lungs her on fire. Her thighs burned. And Tasha was fairly certain she'd strained her rotator cuff.

"Helluva climb," Riker said as he admired the view from the top.

Tasha didn't respond.

Judging from the discarded EV suit off to the side and the scuffle in the dirt, Riker had a fairly good idea what had happened.

The fact that Will had now caught Tasha trying to scale down the sheer rock face only confirmed his theory.

His heart went out to her – but Riker also knew the odds of survival were slim. Data was perhaps the most remarkable person that he'd ever known. And he had a penchant for pulling off amazing feats – especially when the odds were against him.

But Riker knew even Data wasn't invincible.

"Tasha, what happened?" Riker asked.

At this point, he figured talking about it was not only healthy – but a necessity.

"Tasha, we can search for Data. But we also need to find Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher," Riker said, keeping his tone even and relaxed.

Tasha didn't say anything.

Riker surveyed the valley below. Data's inability to swim due to his density was well-known among the senior officers.

"I can't imagine what you're going through," Riker went on. "But you can't do this alone. You have no idea how deep that lake is or what lives in it."

Tasha had no underwater exploratory equipment. Hell, she didn't even have a plan. She had been fully ready to dive in in search of Data without so much as a breather mask.

"Once we find the Captain and Doctor Crusher we can search the area," Riker said. "But we need to find them."

In his mind, finding the other members of the away team was the higher priority than a fool's errand chasing Data's ghost.

When Tasha remained silent, Riker turned around to find her lying on the ground staring at the sky.

"It's not supposed to be like this," Tasha said softly.

"I promise that once we locate-"

"He could be injured," Tasha said in a faraway voice. "Lying down there. Alone."

Riker offered Tasha his hand and helped pull her up to her feet.

"And once we figure out how to contact the Enterprise-"

"I'm going down there tomorrow," Tasha said. "I'll have to take the long way down. Find a path. I'll leave you with that knife."

"We'll go together once we find the Captain and contact the Enterprise," Riker said.

Tasha ignored him and began to retract her grappling line.

"What are you doing out here?" Tasha demanded.

"Look, I'm not saying Alaska was anything like where you grew up. But I do know a few things," Riker said. "And your tree marks weren't exactly in code."

Riker was hoping to lighten the mood with a bit of humour.

"You should get back and keep working on the supplies," Tasha said without looking up.

Riker rocked his head back and forth. He took a breath to hold onto his composure.

"Tasha," he began to say.

"Look, I'm worried about the Captain and Doctor Crusher too," Tasha snapped. "And in order to find them, we need that rope. We can't very well go marking all the bloody trees or we'll be walking in circles."

She had a point. And the fog was so thick that they really could easily wander off from their path without the aid of a rope.

"Then we will both go back and resume working on it," Riker said in a firm voice.

Tasha didn't move.

"Lieutenant," Riker said.

It was a polite warning.

"I need to finish this. And I want to scout the area," Tasha said.

It wasn't an ask – she was sharing her plan and making clear that their ranks didn't matter anymore. If she was going to attempt a descent the following day, Tasha would need to plan overnight.

"I'm not asking," Riker said. "It's an order, Lieutenant. And I promise you that once we find the Captain, I will help-"

Riker stopped as a resounding boom shook the valley, echoing off the rocks.

For a moment, both Tasha and Riker stood in silence. They were listening for any sound of the drone.

"What was that?" Riker asked.

Tasha quickly finished looping up her grappling line and began to furiously march off without a word.

"Tasha? Tasha, that thing is out there," Riker warned, stepping in front of Tasha.

"And that could be Data in trouble," Tasha argued.

She moved to go around him, but Riker blocked her path.

"I can't let you go out there," Riker said.

"He needs help," Tasha insisted.

This time when she attempted to go around, Riker gripped her shoulders to stop her in place.

"Let go," Tasha barked.

"We should hide," Riker suggested.

"Let go!" Tasha repeated.

"I can't do that," Riker said in an infuriatingly calm manner.

Tasha tried to slip away, but Riker had the advantage of height. It pained him to know what came next – but Will saw no alternative.

He had to be blunt. It was the only way to get her to see reason.

"You and I both know there is no way Data survived that fall," Riker said. "We don't know how deep that lake is. And whatever caused that explosion isn't going to be defeated by two phasers."

His face softened.

"He's gone, Tasha," Riker said.

"And I refuse to believe that," Tasha said, pushing him away.

She took a step back and shook her head. Determined as ever, she proceeded forward. Once more, Will Riker rushed around and put out a hand to stop her.

Tasha shoved him away.

"I didn't see it happen," she said.

It.

She couldn't even bear to say the word death.

"I didn't see him hit the water. He might have survived. And he could be down there – right now – in need of our help," Tasha went on.

All sense of the ever-compose Security Chief had evaporated.

"Tasha," Riker said, shaking his head.

"I didn't see it happen!" she shouted as she backed away from Will.

She had been consumed by a righteous fury.

"And until I see a body or find evidence otherwise – I am not giving up on him," Tasha declared, raising her voice.

Will could see that her composure was starting to slip. Her hands were trembling, and she turned her attention out onto the valley below.

"It's not supposed to be like this," Tasha said in a small voice.

Riker had no idea what to say. He knew there were no words that could adequately offer comfort. She was beginning to struggle through the stages of grief – moving from denial to anger.

Tasha clenched her fists.

"IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS!" she roared, her voice carrying out and echoing over the valley.

Riker had been moving towards her. But now he took a step back, mindful that maybe she needed space more than anything.

All of the sessions with Deanna, conversations with Data, moments of self-realisation, and months of work felt as if they were for naught.

Years of trying to unlearn the deep-seeded and irrationally placed sense of guilt for things that were far outside of Tasha's control dissolved in the face of such grief.

"I DID EVERYTHING TO-" Tasha stopped and gasped for air, taking a moment to collect her thoughts.

Tasha had been conditioned since childhood that there was a price for everything. Any achievement, every moment of happiness – it always came at a cost.

"How much more do I owe?" she shouted at the sky. "WHAT IS THERE LEFT TO TAKE FROM ME?"

She had given up her pursuit of the Romulans. She had learned to be gentle with herself, to take care of herself. And in Tasha's mind, she had more than paid the penance for her past.

Unless this isn't about you. Tasha realised.

"Data," she whispered.

Tasha was overcome with rage.

"Is that what this is all about? Is that his price?" she screamed.

Had Data finally gained his freedom only to have it ripped away? Was the cost of that victory his very life?

Riker watched with a mix of horror and fascination as Tasha launched into a tirade of indecipherable phrases. He reasoned it must have been her native tongue for his universal translator could not detect the language.

She was yelling at the sky – almost like she was talking to the universe or some unseen cosmic force.

Tasha had never bought into the Turkana gods of old. But she had been thoroughly convinced in their concept of the cruelty of the universe and the notion that there truly was no happiness to be found without paying a terrible cost.

No, she didn't believe in those gods.

But she cursed them, nonetheless.

The Turkana gods of old. Minos. The Drake. Starfleet.

Even the universe itself wasn't spared.

Tasha dropped to her knees.

"Where does it end?" Tasha pleaded.

---

Data stayed perfectly still. He had manually slowed his processing core and released a rush of coolant fluid to lower his body temperature in order to try and hide his heat signature.

The machines were scanning the valley in a grid pattern – and eventually they would reach his section of the trees.

In an effort to keep his functioning at a minimum, Data was relying on sound rather than sight to determine their whereabouts.

The one directly to the left of him was approximately six metres away and closing.

Out of nowhere, Data caught the sound of a voice carrying across the valley. Because of the convex curve of the land, sound carried much further.

Someone was shouting.

All of the drones stopped and turned their attention toward the sound. Data couldn't be sure whose voice it was – and he couldn't risk turning up the volume on his audio receptors surrounded by so many drones.

All of sudden, the legs and arms of the drones retracted. They closed in on the central body. In unison, they rolled off in the direction of the sound.

Data waited until the drones were at the edge of his line of sight. Then he raced off toward the treeline.

Someone was out there.

They had survived.

And now they were in peril.

---

Will Riker had no idea what to say.

"Tasha," he said, stepping over to her.

He rested his hand on her shoulder, offering silent support.

"Tasha," he repeated.

Will turned his head, straining to hear above the sound of the river.

"Tasha, we have to go," Riker said.

"I know," she sobbed.

"No, I mean we need to hide. Now," Riker said.

Above the roaring sound of the water was a steady hum. It was growing louder as it approached.

Tasha could hear it too. It was much louder than the drone before and a disconcerting notion indeed. A louder noise meant it was either bigger or that there was more than one.

"Come on," Riker said, helping to pull Tasha to her feet.

There was nowhere to run save for the treeline. And that provided little cover. They were too far away from their encampment to make it back in time.

"Here," Tasha said, pulling Riker down against a felled tree.

She reached for a large branch and covered them both as they waited for the drone to pass. The hum had gone from a steady noise and grown into a swarm as the hive of drones descended on their location and began to sweep the area.

One of the drones detected Tasha's discarded EV suit. It stopped, scanned the suit, and then scanned it again – almost like it wanted to be certain.

From their hiding spot, Tasha and Commander Riker watched as the light on the drone's 'eye' blinked twice. There was a buzzer sound, indicating a universal negative.

In a flash, the drones zoomed off back down over the cliff and into the valley.

"I think our drone got busy," Riker said.

"We should look for deeper cover," Tasha said.

She stopped and frowned.

"What the hell am I saying? Those things wiped out an entire planet. Nowhere is safe," she realised.

"I think we need to refocus our energy on finding a way off Minos," Riker said.

---

"Ensign, secure those connectors," Worf ordered.

Geordi finished up his conversation with Wesley and then resumed his seat in the Command Chair.

"I still want a long-range sensor launched. It will give you added visibility in case you need to pull out of here," Geordi instructed.

"Aye, sir," Wesley responded.

"And watch the backup reserves," Geordi reminded them. "They weren't meant for long-term use, and you'll need to watch the usage – especially from the replicators. They're vampires."

"Yes, sir," Wesley said.

"Worf, Jae, Hawk, Solis, T'su – report to the Battle Bridge. I'll join you in a moment," Geordi ordered.

The selected crew turned their stations over to the replacement team and headed for the auxiliary lift.

Wesley spun around in his seat.

"Sir-" he began to protest.

Geordi had anticipated this.

"I need you here. The Enterprise needs you here," Geordi said, putting up a hand to silence him.

Wesley may have only been an Acting Ensign, but he was one helluva pilot.

"You may need to fly her out of here," Geordi concluded.

Geordi could empathise with his desire to join the mission – his mother was down on Minos. But Geordi also recognised that Beverly would never, ever forgive him for allowing Wesley to join.

"Captain," Deanna said, turning to Geordi.

"I know you want to come too, but they're going to need you here – especially if things don't go in our favour," Geordi said.

"I just wanted to say good luck," Deanna said as she gave his arm a small squeeze.

"Thanks, Counsellor," Geordi said.

On his way to the lift, Miles caught his arm.

"Don't be late getting back," Miles warned as he shook his hand. "I fully expect to kick your arse at darts later."

Geordi chuckled.

"Uh huh, we'll see about that," Geordi replied.

The two engineers had been fast friends ever since their mission to Farpoint. And in the last twenty-four hours, Geordi had come to rely on Miles's straightforward advice and indomitable spirit to get him through the crisis of command.

Geordi took one last look at the Bridge and then stepped onto the lift.

---

Geordi hopped off the auxiliary lift at Deck 15. He was stepping off to transfer to the lift to Battle Bridge just as Sonya was preparing to step on.

"Oh," she said, nearly running into him.

"Hey," Geordi responded, catching her arm.

"I don't really know what to say or what's appropriate," she confessed. "I mean I wish you luck. But also, I know that sounds dumb."

"No," Geordi assured her. "Luck is good."

He could sense she was nervous – she was rambling.

"I just, I mean I know this is serious. I do. I get it. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say," she said. "And I'm worried about you. And the ship. And what if I make mistake? Or what if-"

She stopped as Geordi gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"You will do just fine," he said in a soothing voice. "Hell, you'll do better than fine. You'll do magnificently."

Sonya bit her lip.

"I just… I wish I was going with you," she shared.

"I know," Geordi acknowledged.

"The Engineering team is all set and Lieutenant Wu reported Tactical support is in place," Sonya said, notifying him of their position.

Most of the drive section had been evacuated to the saucer. But in addition to the Battle Bridge crew, Geordi was bringing an Engineering team and two Tactical support teams. They would be responsible for providing on-site support functions during their rescue mission.

Normally, Sonya would have been one of his first choices for the Engineering team.

But Geordi knew that her expertise on large mass objects, gravitational pull, and propulsion would be needed on the saucer.

He had assigned her to the Operations chair, and it would be Sonya's first stint on the Bridge.

Ever.

"You know I could ask Reyes or Benton to step in-"

"No one knows the Black Cluster or what it could do to this ship better than you," Geordi said, hoping to bolster her confidence.

They weren't just words.

Sonya's expertise and quick-thinking would be necessary if the drive section were to be destroyed.

"If we don't make it back, you're going to have to advise them how to get out of here. You know the risks in that corridor. And you'll be flying without warp capability," Geordi reminded her.

"Don't remind me. I'm hoping my stint on the Bridge is uneventful," Sonya said with a sigh. "Honestly, it's my hope I only have to be about as useful as the letter 'g' in lasagne."

Geordi couldn't help but grin.

"I mean – you know, ideally, right?" Sonya added quickly. "I'll obviously do everything I can to the best of abilities if it comes down to-"

Geordi silenced her with a quick kiss, reassuring Sonya that he trusted her work.

When the broke apart, Geordi allowed himself a moment to nuzzle against her face.

"I'll see you later," he said. "And I know you're going to do great."

He pulled back and cupped Sonya's face, running his thumb across her cheek.

"You have a beautiful mind," he said with a mix of fondness and sorrow.

It wasn't goodbye.

But if it had to be, Geordi wanted to be sure Sonya understood that.

---

After a short lift ride, Geordi stepped off onto the Battle Bridge.

In order to enhance focus and screen readings, the entire Battle Bridge had a much darker look than the main Bridge.

It may have been all about design and functionality, but Geordi couldn't help but think it added an ominous tone to their mission.

The team he'd selected to join had already come aboard and were in their positions.

"Captain on deck," Worf announced as Geordi joined them.

"All decks report ready," Lieutenant Jae announced. "Drive section is clear."

"Lieutenant T'su, please open a ship-wide channel," Geordi said.

T'su tapped the Operations console and then signalled to Geordi that it was all set.

"Attention all decks, this is Acting Captain La Forge. Shortly, we will separate the saucer section of the ship. This will allow us to keep you all safe while we travel back to Minos to bring our crew home," Geordi announced.

Word of the Captain's away team being trapped on Minos had spread quickly. The subsequent firefight in space and heavy damage to the ship had taken a steep mental toll on the crew.

"Effective immediately, I am naming Senior Chief Petty Officer Miles O'Brien as acting Captain in my absence," Geordi announced.

As far as they were aware, it was the first time an enlisted personnel member had been in command of the flagship herself.

"Lieutenant Jae, initiate the separation sequence," Geordi ordered.

"Saucer separation in progress. Main latch retraction one to one eight. Static charge compensation," the Computer said. "Adjusting pitch angle."

Everyone held their breath.

"Separation in ten, nine, eight," the computer began to countdown.

Saucer separations were rare. Geordi could count on one hand the number of times the ship had actually used a separation. It was typically only employed in absolute emergencies when the risk was too great or in the event that there would ever be a warp core breach.

"Three, two, one," The computer continued.

"Separation complete," Worf reported as he observed the saucer begin to rise away from the drive section.

"Open a channel to the saucer," Geordi instructed.

T'su tapped the communications controls to hail the saucer. Miles had anticipated his communique.

"We're fine here, sir," Miles said as soon as they were onscreen. "Bring 'em home."

"Lieutenant Hawk, lay in a course for Minos. Maximum warp," Geordi ordered.

Hawk punched in the command and then waited with his hand hovering over the console.

"Engage."