A/N: This is a chapter I've been excited to write for a while.
This chapter encompasses the events of chapters 38 – 41 of the "The Complication." This can stand alone - but you are missing some amazing storytelling if you aren't reading "The Complication."
I've always imagined far more between Christopher Hobson and Data. (See my story "Request Denied" for another theory on that).
In this series, we see that Starfleet is an imperfect institution. Both Data and Tasha have monsters from their early days with Starfleet. For Data, that's Bruce Maddox. For Tasha, it's Christopher Hobson.
Both of those relationships will be explored further in the prequel stories "The Complicated Road to Farpoint" and "The Cadet."
Content Warning: This chapter contains a flashback to one of Tasha's abusers. At the time of the abuse, she is 15 and a cadet at Starfleet Academy, her abuser is an adult. Grooming behaviour is detailed.
Captain's Log. Stardate 41705.3. We have arrived at McKinley station where the Enterprise is scheduled to undergo a routine resupply and outfitting while my crew and I attend the Starfleet Academy Reunion. We've arrived a day early and will be staying for ten days to allow the crew ample time for shore leave to reconnect with family and friends.
And two of my officers will be recognised for their outstanding service. Doctor Beverly Crusher will receive the Doctor Leonard McCoy Medical Merit Award at a ceremony the morning of the reunion. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Natasha Yar has been nominated for the Karagite Order of Heroism and I have no doubt in my mind that she will be this year's recipient.
I myself am eagerly awaiting the Command Conference in nine days' time to learn more about the growing Romulan threat. However, before then I will be enjoying several days of leisure time near Lyon where I intend to ride, read, and relax.
Earth.
For the first time since her launch nearly two years prior, the Enterprise was back in orbit docked at McKinley station.
It was rare for a starship with a continuing mission like the Enterprise to return to Earth. The average tour of duty on a large cruiser was seven years.
During that time, an officer could expect one, maybe two trips to Earth at the most (outside of private transport or shuttle trips for personal leave).
Because of the rare occasion, everyone had plans to make the most of their short stay.
Their time would start with the official Starfleet Academy Reunion. It lasted two days and was packed with receptions, awards ceremonies, and campus activities.
From there, everyone on the ship had five days of personal leave to do whatever they wanted.
After that, they would round out the trip with a three day Command Conference.
In a way, Data and Tasha were grateful they had no family on Earth as it meant their entire holiday was for them and them alone.
Most of their friends were struggling to fit a hard-earned break in between visits to family. Poor Keiko and Miles were due to spend their entire holiday bouncing from one family visit to the next in order to share the news of their upcoming nuptials.
The Crushers had plans to split their time between an Academy tour for Wesley & a visit to Jack's family on the East Coast.
Worf was looking forward to a few days at home in Minsk with his Babushka and his mother's Rokeg Blood Pie.
Deanna had made arrangements for a trip to the spa. Geordi was headed to Santorini to meet his family for white sand beaches, seafood, and pasta.
And Will Riker had booked a fishing trip with a few old Academy buddies in town for the reunion.
All in all it was shaping up to be a great week.
This would be the second time Data and Tasha were planning a trip together. Their previous shore leave to the Edo planet had bee short lived and ended in near disaster.
This time they were looking forward to a routine, relaxed getaway.
Love is lovelier the second time around.
And Tasha had pulled out all the stops to ensure it would be a memorable trip for Data. They both enjoyed solitude and nature. Most of all, they craved mental and physical stimulation.
Tasha could appreciate the comforts of a place like Deanna's spa. But she knew herself well enough to understand that she would be restless after a day or two.
Originally, Tasha had sought to book accommodations for the Sherlock Holmes Experience in London. It was a three-day interactive mystery.
Tasha thought it was perfect for Data. She figured they could spend the other two days exploring the city, enjoying the food, and catching a London Kings game.
Unfortunately, the Sherlock Holmes Experience was temporarily closed for maintenance.
After hours of research and deliberation, Tasha had finally settled on an alternative holiday that would offer a mix of privacy, adventure, and plenty of activities as a nod to Holmes.
And to Tasha's immense delight, Data had agreed to the surprise.
He had no idea what was waiting for him.
Only first - they had to survive the reunion.
Data turned his head side to side in the mirror as he took in his appearance.
He snatched his comb off the shelf and brushed his hair back again, taking his time as he admired his dark locks. Data stopped, evaluated his appearance, and then resumed combing his hair.
Once he was satisfied, Data grabbed his dress uniform jacket and slipped it on.
He turned back to the mirror and smiled. Data had practised that smile for weeks in anticipation of the reunion.
It was one of those facial expressions he had never truly mastered. In an effort to suppress any display of emotion, Data had trained himself to remain stoic.
He had a lovely smile. Tasha often called him an imp for the way his mouth curved whenever he was amused.
As Data grew more comfortable with his own emotions, he was learning to allow them to show.
There would be thousands of Starfleet Academy personnel present at Starfleet HQ for the event. There were a variety of receptions taking place simultaneously across the main campus hosted by various departments.
Data wanted to make a good impression. While he had never been close with his classmates, Data's unique nature made it hard to hide – even in a crowd. There were many individuals he had known throughout his years in Starfleet that would be present, and Data was eager to reconnect with them.
Tasha was lying on her bed, watching him.
She'd been ready for over an hour.
Tasha tapped the screen on her PADD to check the time and realised it was probably necessary to step in. The hour was growing late, and they were due across the bay for the Karagite Order of Heroism ceremony at 19:00 hours.
She got up from the bed and wrapped her arms around Data.
Tasha thought he looked positively dapper in his dress uniform.
"Tasha, I just pressed this," Data protested.
She released him and he turned to face her. Tasha smoothed down the front of his uniform, running her hand over the gold braid.
"You know you're the most handsome android in Starfleet?" Tasha said with a grin.
Data cocked his head to the left as the corner of his mouth curved upward.
Suddenly, his smile faltered as he pondered the meaning of her statement.
"Tasha, I am the only android in Starfleet," Data said.
"And we're going to be late," she replied, dodging his question.
She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and made for the door.
"Tasha? Tasha, was that intended to be humorous?" Data called after her.
When they beamed down, Data and Tasha made a beeline for the tram station. Squeezing onto the transport, they made it barely in time to get across the bay.
Data had always liked the tram. It wasn't a long ride - only about twenty minutes. But it was familiar and tranquil.
The bay had always been a refuge for him.
He'd taken this ride many times during his years at Starfleet Academy to explore all the city of San Francisco had to offer.
It was the autumn of the year, and the sun was already beginning to set on the bay. It burned with the vibrant glow that accompanied the last burst of light before it dropped into the bay. Long ago, Data had noted to memory the orange and red radiance of the sunset as it sank into the water.
By Data's calculation, fog only occurred approximately a third of the time. Yet, during his time living in the area it had certainly seemed like more.
Data looked over to Tasha who was standing next to him with her arms crossed, chewing on the inside of her lip. Her face was contorted in a manner that he knew well enough to understand she was in deep thought.
"Tasha?" Data inquired.
"Hmm?" she answered as she continued to stare down at the water.
"Are you nervous?" Data asked.
Tasha shook her head.
"I just want this to be over with," Tasha confessed.
Data blinked. He didn't comprehend what the purpose of her trepidation was to the award ceremony.
"Tasha, are you apprehensive about the crowd or public speaking?" Data questioned. "I have read about the human experience of 'imposter syndrome' and would like to reassure you that if-"
Tasha chuckled.
"No, Data," she laughed as she turned to him.
The thought of public speaking wasn't a bother. Nor would Tasha describe her feeling as one of anxiety.
Rather, she just didn't get the fuss around these kinds of things. Like Captain Picard, Tasha didn't see merit in the pomp and circumstance that accompanied such Starfleet traditions.
It all seemed so stuffy.
"Data, I've never enjoyed this type of event," Tasha explained. "I'm just not into it. I don't like having to be on my toes all night and I've never cared to schmooze with the brass."
Tasha knew exactly what was in store for them – and it was the last place she wanted to spend an entire evening.
"We're going to be stuck for hours in a room full of pretentious hopefuls desperate for a command of their own," Tasha huffed as she threw her hands up.
She exhaled heavily, scratching the back of her neck.
"I'm sorry," she said, chastising herself. "I know this is important to you."
She took hold of his hand and gave it a quick squeeze.
"We'll have fun," Tasha said.
She was smiling, but Data could hear that she was attempting to reassure herself.
When they disembarked, Tasha grabbed Data's hand and practically yanked him behind her as they raced across the greens to reach the ceremony on time.
Tasha may not have been a fan of such events – but she had no desire to arrive late. The humiliation of having to slip in during the middle of an important Admiral's speech was enough to make her want to die.
Tasha skidded to a stop just shy of the event hall doors.
She rested her hands on her hips as she caught her breath. It wouldn't look good to arrive winded.
Data caught Tasha's chin and studied her face. He reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair back, smoothing it down to hide all signs of their dash across campus.
"There," he said.
"How do I look?" Tasha asked.
There were times she was jealous of Data's bioplast. He did get sweaty or red-faced. He rarely looked dishevelled.
"Radiant," Data answered fondly.
"Cutting it a bit close," Captain Picard commented as Tasha and Data slid in at a table with the Captain and Commander Riker.
As she took her seat, Tasha cleared her throat and smoothed down her uniform. She was doing her best not to look as if she had just raced a kilometre from the tram station across the greens to reach the Jonathan Archer Event Centre before the event began.
It wasn't the first time Data and Tasha had attended such an event. Data had attended the ceremony several times before in various capacities as Second Officer of the USS Nokomis and twice as First Officer of the USS Orkney.
Tasha had been reluctantly brought along to attend one years earlier while serving as Second Officer of the USS Dunkirkunder her old friend Captain Lee Davies.
Just as she had anticipated, the room was packed with Starfleet brass, wannabe brass, and the kind of pencil-pushing administrative bureaucrats that had always made Tasha feel out of her element.
Tasha stabbed a piece of something blue and leafy on her plate and popped it into her mouth.
It wasn't necessarily unpleasant, but it was certainly lacking in flavour.
As she tried to decide if she liked it or not, Tasha felt Data's hand on her knee.
They exchanged a glance, wordlessly communicating to one another that it would be a long night – but it would be a long night together.
Surveying the room, Data recognised a number of officers that he had served with previously.
Some of these were fond memories.
Others were memories that Data would sooner forget.
While none of them were comparable to his experience at the hands of Bruce Maddox, Data had certainly experienced his fair share of prejudice.
Dehumanisation was standard and micro-aggressions from fellow crew members had been a common occurrence during his twenty-three years of service to Starfleet.
Tasha gripped her glass of wine and took a casual swig. Data observed that despite her earlier discomfort at having to attend the event, she seemed unusually relaxed as the name of the winner was announced.
Commander Riker and Captain Picard offered their condolences. Tasha assured them she was fine -alleviated, in fact. For the first time that night, she felt like she could breathe.
Riker went off to reconnect with a few old classmates and Captain Picard begrudgingly permitted himself to be dragged along.
"I am sorry," Data said once they were alone. "Are you feeling sad that you did not win?"
Tasha grinned.
"Are you kidding me? I'm relieved," Tasha said as she sat back in her chair. "I didn't want to go up there."
Data leaned in next to her ear.
"If you are projecting confidence to mask feelings of disappointment-" Data said softly.
Tasha shook her head.
She was truthfully quite pleased that she didn't have to go up there.
"Seriously, it was beyond anything I could have imagined just to be nominated," Tasha confessed. "But I am so glad I did not have to get up and give a speech or anything."
Suddenly, Data was struck with a thought.
"You did not write a speech," Data surmised. "That is why you are relieved."
"I wrotea speech," Tasha insisted.
"May I read it?" Data asked.
He was genuinely curious. He wanted to know what she would have said had she received the award.
"No," Tasha replied simply.
It took him 1.87 seconds to conclude that her denial was to cover that she had, in fact, not written an acceptance speech.
They went back and forth for a few minutes – Data arguing that if she had written a speech then she wouldn't have trouble presenting and Tasha insisting she wanted to keep it private.
Eventually, Tasha suggested it may be prudent to take their conversation outside. Data was stunned as Tasha swiped a full bottle of wine from the table.
"Tasha, alcohol is not permitted outside of the event hall," Data said.
Tasha casually slipped the bottle under the hem of her dress uniform, holding it close against her body.
"Tasha, you cannot take that outside to-"
"Watch me," she replied.
Without another word, she rose from her seat and made a beeline for the nearest door.
The evening air coming up off the bay was cool and was only amplified by the difference between the crowded event hall and the freedom of the night air.
Now free of the room, Data and Tasha found a secluded spot on the backside of the building that overlooked the bay.
Tasha hopped up onto the concrete railing and rolled her sleeves up, grateful for the solitude their new position offered under the moonlight.
Tasha closed her eyes and relished in the feel of it.
She could sense Data was watching her.
"Moonlight," she said.
For the first time in months it was real moonlight – not a hologram, not the exterior lights of the ship. It felt glorious.
"If I may be so bold, tonight is an example of you 'rushing into' things without a plan," Data chastised.
"Sure," Tasha said in defeat. "If that's what you believe."
She was tired of arguing. She reached for the bottle of wine and refilled her glass. Before speaking, she took another drink.
"It doesn't matter, because I wasn't going to win to begin with," Tasha said.
Her tone was not one of anger. Rather, she seemed shockingly calm.
"You took a gamble," Data corrected. "You could not have known that would be the result with any degree of certainty."
Tasha frowned.
"Let's just say I calculatedthe probability," she said, referencing one of his go-to lines.
Data's brow furrowed.
He opened his mouth to protest but Tasha put her hand up to stop him.
"There have been 167 people awarded the Karagite Order of Heroism. Over eighty percent of those recipients have been awarded the honour posthumously," Tasha said as she walked him through her research. "A vast majority of the recipients are men, typically from Earth or human Earth colony, and nearly every recipient has held the rank of Captain."
Data listened intently as she continued.
"In the entire history of the award, there have been a handful of lower officers, and other genders, and non-Earth humans nominated. But they rarely win," Tasha went on. "In fact, less than five percent."
As she went on, Data accessed his informational database and confirmed her information.
"Data, I wasn't going to win and I'm really OK with that," Tasha assured him.
He thought back to her behaviour during that portion of the ceremony.
"That is why you were relaxed when they read the list of nominees," Data concluded.
Tasha nodded, confirming his theory.
"I know I'm not good with complex equations," Tasha admitted. "But profiling is what I do quite well if I may say so myself."
She shrugged.
"I had it narrowed down between Xu and Baker," Tasha said.
Data was about to criticise her when he stopped himself.
"Tasha, that is actually ingenious," Data said as realisation hit him.
She raised her glass in a mock toast to herself.
Data pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head.
"That is why you did not write a speech," Data said.
"I did!" Tasha insisted.
"I would like to read it," Data said.
The request wasn't about proving he was right – Data truly wanted to read it, to celebrate her success.
"No," Tasha said with a small smile.
Data frowned.
"Fine, believe what you want," Tasha said, resigned Data wasn't going to accept no for an answer.
Tasha glanced back over her shoulder at the water in the distance.
"How much longer before you think we can slip away?" Tasha asked.
Unfortunately, the answer wasn't what Tasha had hoped for.
It was nearly midnight before they could extract themselves from the reception. More than a few people wanted to talk to the young Lieutenant nominated for such a prestigious award.
Tasha had spent most of the evening trying to avoid a rather enthusiastic reporter from the Federation News Network who had been keen to interview the only Turkanan in Starfleet history.
In an effort to avoid the reporter, Captain Picard had invited Data, Tasha, and Commander Riker to join him in an invitation-only room.
Sometimes there were advantages to being a Captain.
By the time they had returned to the ship, everyone was in a good mood. Everyone had had more than a few and Tasha was feeling uncharacteristically relaxed.
"Mr Data, it seems our Security Chief has had a snootful," Picard said as soon as they beamed back aboard.
"Inquiry, snootful?" Data asked.
Jean-Luc wasn't sure how to react.
"Goodnight," Captain Picard said with a short bow.
The Captain stepped off the transporter pad and made for the door. He stopped just shy of the corridor and turned back to the three.
"Oh, and Mr Data, please see that our Security Chief makes it back safely to her bed," Picard ordered.
Data gave a short nod.
Captain Picard was about to turn again when he froze.
"Or your bed, I suppose," Picard commented, feeling a bit loose himself. "You do understand I just meant back safely somewhere and that was not a specific order to do, erm, whatever it is you intend to do…that is if you were intending to-"
The Captain became uncharacteristically flustered.
"I wasn't implying that you were planning to-" Picard fumbled. "It's really none of my business I just didn't want you to think I was insinuating-"
"Understood, sir," Data said with an air of finality. "Goodnight."
The Captain gave them an uncomfortable nod and scurried off for the nearest turbolift.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Riker said with a wink before heading for his own quarters.
Tasha rested her head against Data's chest and laughed softly.
"Was that funny?" Data asked.
Tasha giggled.
"Well the last time Captain Picard gave you that order you did quite literally take me to bed," Tasha teased.
It was a relief their relationship had reached a point where they could now look at back at the polywater incident as a fond memory.
"I need to get out of this uniform," Tasha said, dropping her voice. "I could get out of it for you, Data."
She bit down on her thumb and backed away toward the door.
When they got to Tasha's quarters, she shrugged off her dress uniform and dropped it on the floor.
"Leave it," Tasha urged as Data made to pick it up. "Bed."
"I will be there in just a moment," Data assured her.
Tasha flopped down on the bed. She yawned and was tired enough that the prospect of sleeping in her dress trousers and undershirt was not such an off-putting thought.
At least, not enough to rouse her back to her feet.
In any case, Tasha was certain they wouldn't last long once Data climbed into bed.
Meanwhile, Data retrieved the garment from the floor. He went to hang it on the hook on the door near the lavvy. As he carried it across the room, Data detected a slight variation in the weight of the garment – so subtle that were not for his android abilities, Data never would have noticed it.
He reached into the hidden pocket on the inside of the uniform jacket and smiled as his fingers closed around a small, folded note.
Unfolding the paper, he recognised the handwriting immediately. As he scanned the contents, Data couldn't help but feel bad for accusing Tasha of not preparing a speech.
He was holding it in his hands.
And now he understood precisely why she was relieved that she hadn't received the award. This wasn't a speech written for victory. It was a speech written with the intention of never being shared.
By no means was it poorly written.
No, her words were something Data had wished she would share with others.
They embodied the best of what Starfleet had to offer, recognised the organisation's shortcomings, and reaffirmed the importance of Starfleet's commitment to providing opportunity rather than rewarding connections.
He suspected there was a certain amount of backhanded rhetoric on the last point, likely inspired by the situation that had led to her presence on Starbase 118 and, in part, the plight of the Bajoran children she had rescued.
It highlighted a sentiment that both Data and Tasha shared. As two young individuals alone in the word, Starfleet had offered them a home. It provided a path for not just an education, but the possibility to do something great.
During their time, both had experienced the chance to be a part of ground-breaking research, fantastic exploration, and the opportunity to prove themselves as capable officers.
Much like her, the speech was understated. It didn't carry the fanfare of a Starfleet Admiral.
And true to form, it was a frank assessment.
Data returned the speech to the pocket.
"Computer, lights," he ordered.
When Data slipped into bed next to Tasha, she was drifting somewhere between consciousness and a much-needed slumber.
Knackered, but not quite ready to succumb to sleep.
"Is it your intention to sleep like that?" Data inquired.
Tasha didn't respond verbally. Instead, she slipped out of her boots and kicked them off the end of the bed.
"I rather you would take them off," Tasha replied in a hazy voice.
"Would you like assistance to change into something more appropriate for sleep?" Data offered.
"Just stay," she mumbled.
When she had initially flopped down onto the bed, Tasha had been keen to get physically intimate. But the bed was soft, the sheets were cool, and her pillow felt heavenly.
Tasha rolled onto her side, and she curled up next to him.
"I must apologise," Data said.
"Hmm?" Tasha asked lazily.
"You are correct," Data went on.
"What are you talking about?" Tasha inquired.
She just wanted to go to sleep.
Data brushed the top of her head with a tender kiss.
"That Starfleet represents a vision where everyone deserves the opportunity, the chance to be valuable," Data said, referencing her speech. "Even little girls from Turkana that stare up at the stars."
Tasha squeezed Data tight.
"How about I help you slip into something more appropriate for sleep?" Data offered.
Tasha groaned in protest.
"You will be more comfortable," Data said.
"Fine," she replied with a heavy sigh.
Tasha felt like a noodle as Data stripped off her clothes. He returned a moment later and helped her slip into something soft and silky.
"Oh not tonight, baby," Tasha said, recognising the garment.
It was one of the only pieces of nightwear Tasha owned that wasn't a curry-stained tee or pair of uniform sleep shorts.
"I don't have the energy," Tasha said.
She yawned and stretched, throwing her arms up and arching her back.
"I know," Data assured her.
He tossed aside his own trousers and undershirt in favour of just his shorts before slipping into bed behind her.
Data pulled Tasha toward him and spooned up behind her.
"I will gladly fetch you something else if that is your wish," Data offered. "But if you will indulge me, I would so love to enjoy the benefits of this garment."
His breath was hot against Tasha's ear as his fingers traced the length of her thigh.
Data pressed his lips to the spot just behind her ear. His hand crept under the hem of her short nightdress and came to rest on Tasha's abdomen.
"I'm so tired," Tasha confessed.
"But you will not be in the morning," Data growled. "And I will be right here."
True to his word, Data was there when Tasha awoke.
She was so comfortable that she didn't want to open her eyes. The temperature was perfect – warm and cosy under the blankets while the air outside was nice and cool on her skin.
Data had one arm draped over Tasha's abdomen as he held her flush against his body. He had set his rest programme to deactivate at the slightest stir.
She didn't want to disturb Data. So Tasha remained perfectly still – only not still enough.
"I can detect the change in your breathing," Data said.
"Damn," Tasha replied.
"You are sneaky, my dear. But not enough to fool an android," Data replied.
Data's brow furrowed.
"And why would you want to deceive me into believing you were still-"
Data stopped.
Tasha threw her hand back onto Data's hip, wordlessly urging him to stay put.
"Stay," she requested.
On instinct, Data tried to put some distance between them.
She arched her back and smirked. Data gasped softly. Tash felt Data's entire body tense behind her. They may have been spooned up against each other, but it was impossible to ignore Data' stiff erection pressed between them.
"Don't deactivate it," Tasha purred, rubbing her backside against it.
"I-I am sorry. I did not mean to-" Data stammered. "My dream programme was-"
"Mmm, tell me about it," Tasha encouraged.
"Now why would I do that when no dream could compare to you?" Data asked.
Tasha chuckled as Data snaked his arms around her, capturing Tasha's shoulder with his lips.
"I'm not sleepy anymore," Tasha said.
Data nuzzled her neck before pressing a kiss to the nape of it.
"In fact, I'm rather excited at the moment," Tasha went on.
Tasha tried to reach between them, but Data caught her wrist. He threw his leg up over her hip and rolled them together, pinning Tasha under the weight of his body.
Data freed his cock from his shorts and slipped between Tasha's legs, teasing her with the length of it as he rubbed the head against her wet cunt.
Tasha squirmed and tried to break his hold – only Data was too strong.
"Do you wish for me to stop?" Data whispered.
"No," Tasha replied honestly.
"Then you are just being naughty," Data said.
Tasha hissed pleasantly as Data slipped inside. He responded with a slow, dragging thrust.
Data released Tasha's wrist in favour of caressing her thigh. His hand worked its way up her leg, slipping beneath the hem of her nightdress. He traced up over Tasha's hip and along the side of her torso until his fingers ghosted along the curve of her breast.
Data cupped his target, kneading there as he began to move.
It was slow. Steady.
Data buried his face between Tasha's shoulders as he rocked into her, relishing the snug fit of their bodies pressed against each other.
Tasha clutched the bedsheet and keened as Data's lips offered quiet reassurance against her back. Data's left hand worked its way under Tasha's body and between her legs, toying with her clit as he continued to thrust with an achingly slow pace.
Data dragged his teeth across her bare shoulder. He wanted to taste every inch of her skin.
Emotions were like a drug and sex was no exception.
Not only did Data find gratification in his own sexual urges, but there was also something so humanising in knowing he could bring satisfaction to another.
They were due at the reunion later. Data figured it was a good thing their dress uniforms featured high collars because Tasha's neck was a sight.
Data grinned against her skin as he nipped the flesh there.
Tasha groaned and lifted her hips as best she could, begging him for more.
Data increased the pace ever so slightly – just a hair.
A small yelp escaped Tasha's throat as Data's bony hips slapped against her backside with each powerful thrust.
Data needed more leverage.
He drew his knee up and planted one foot on top of the bed. Simultaneously, he gripped Tasha's hips – holding her flush against him, his cock buried deep inside of her, never slipping out for even a moment.
"Ahh," Tasha panted as Data slammed against her body.
Data grunted, his fingers digging into Tasha's flesh.
Tasha propped her hands on the surface of the bed, pushing herself back against Data.
"Data," she breathed.
Tasha's hand caught his, coming to rest just above his own as she shook apart on his long, agile fingers.
"Data," she repeated in a desperate voice.
Data slowed his pace.
"No, no, don't stop," Tasha pleaded.
He hadn't come yet and Tasha didn't want Data to stop just on her account. She firmly felt sex was a team sport and best enjoyed when everyone got to play.
Data slipped his arm under Tasha's chest and guided her body back against his own. He rolled them together, holding Tasha against him until they were half-spooning, half lying on their backs.
Data gripped Tasha's left knee and pulled it up and away from her body. Tasha let her legs fall open as Data continued his tender assault.
He kept his arm draped across her chest, holding Tasha like she was the dearest thing to him in all the world.
"Darling," Data whispered against Tasha's ear. "My sweet."
His breath was ragged as he poured out his heart.
Data's hips bucked. His thighs tightened, contracting his synthetic musculature as he spilled himself.
When he stilled, he pressed his lips against Tasha's shoulder and lingered there.
Tasha closed her eyes and smiled, content to stay like that as long as Data wanted. She found his hand and looped her fingers through Data's.
Tasha brought it to her lips and planted a soft kiss there.
It would be an hour before they finally climbed out of bed.
The sound of Tasha's rumbling stomach was enough to eventually rouse them from their cuddle.
"You are hungry," Data said.
"I'm famished," Tasha retorted.
She rolled off the bed and made a beeline for her dresser.
"Those banquets never have anything good to eat," Tasha said as she rummaged through the drawer.
Data's hand closed around Tasha's wrist, stopping her as she reached for a pair of drawstring trousers.
"Wear this," Data requested, his fingers fumbling with the strap of her short nightdress.
Tasha dropped her gaze as a bashful grin spread across her face.
There was no reason she had to change – at least not yet. They weren't due down on the surface until 13:00 for a series of lectures prior to the official reunion receptions.
"Data, I-"
"Have nowhere to be except here with me. Alone," Data reminded her. "And you look so beautiful."
Tasha shivered as Data's fingers caressed her bicep.
She turned her head back and looked up at him. Her intention had been to say something smart in response.
But the way Data was looking at her was enough to stop the words before they could escape.
Suddenly, Tasha felt small and vulnerable in a way she rarely had.
Tasha owned very little clothing. And of that limited wardrobe, almost everything was functional – uniform, fitness leggings, Parrises Squares jumpsuit, her Aikido Gi.
She had a handful of more fashionable casual options. But between her workload and hobbies, Tasha didn't have much in the way of occasions out save for the rare Ten Aft concert.
She kept a few stylish undergarments – the one part of her wardrobe that had doubled since initiating her relationship with Data.
"Wear it for me?" Data asked, nibbling at her neck.
Wear it for me.
Twelve Years Earlier | San Francisco
"Wear it," a familiar voice said.
It was the usual, slow drawl of Tasha's boyfriend.
"For me?" he asked, pouting a little in the mirror behind Tasha.
Tasha bit her lip.
"It's just, um, it's a little short and I don't really-"
"You look lovely," he said, hoping to convince Tasha.
Tasha remained sceptical.
"It's just that, well… I don't really feel comfortable wearing this sort of thing," Tasha said.
It was a trauma response.
And it was multifaceted.
At fifteen, Tasha Yar had escaped Turkana and found herself a first-year Cadet at Starfleet Academy. And for the first time in ages, Tasha was allowed to choose her own wardrobe -and there was plenty to choose from.
She liked the safety and functionality that came with her standard cadet uniform. It was protection from the elements, easy to move in, and designed for comfort.
The standard cadet uniform offered a choice between several sleeve and trouser lengths or a skant.
Best of all – it was Tasha's choice.
And for someone that had spent the bulk of her life stripped of the ability to make any choice, Tasha relished in that freedom.
However, Tasha understood that growing up on a world so estranged from the Federation, there were still a great deal of customs and norms that she was unfamiliar with.
Hence her current dilemma.
Tasha's boyfriend took hold of her shoulders and turned her toward him.
"Now Natasha, we're going to a very special event tonight. You want to make a good impression, don't you?" he asked, caressing her face.
"Well," Tasha began to say.
He didn't wait for her to finish.
"Of course you do," he said with a lazy smile.
He gripped Tasha's chin, forcing her to look up at him.
"I know you've got great potential – but others might not see that yet," he went on. "And trust me, Starfleet is all about making connections."
"I guess I'm lucky to have you," Tasha said.
"Yes you are," he replied, tucking her blonde, bobbed hair back behind her ear.
In fact, Tasha could hardly believe her luck most days. She hadn't been at the Academy all that long when she caught the eye of one of the officers that worked as an Academy liaison.
His name was Christopher. He was Lieutenant – older, refined. He was from Earth and was the oldest son in a well-off family from the East Coast.
Tasha didn't understand most of what he talked about but she had gathered he must have a lot of money and power considering his family had more than one home.
Named homes.
And it wasn't because they were nomadic.
He had his own place off campus – a penthouse flat with all the proper mod cons and a breath-taking view of the bay.
Tasha had never seen one person own so much stuff. Christopher didn't just have a watch – he had a drawer of them. He owned multiple pairs of shoes.
There was an entire closet in the kitchen full of gadgets and gizmos that he readily confessed to never using.
For a girl that had, at one point, owned no shoes it was like an alien world.
Christopher had introduced Tasha to a brand new world.
At fifteen, Tasha was spellbound.
She didn't care if some of the other cadets called him "Christopher Snobson." To Tasha, Christopher was the best thing that could ever happen to a girl from Turkana.
Tasha looked herself up and down in the mirror.
"Do you think maybe I could make a good impression in trousers?" Tasha asked with a small smile.
Christopher closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"Natasha," he pleaded.
He took hold of her hands and pulled them to his chest.
"I know this is all new. But trust me," Christopher said. "I'm only trying to do what's best for you. You do want to succeed, don't you?"
In the end, Tasha wore the skant.
And she felt chilly and uncomfortable the entire night. She couldn't sit down – Christopher had convinced her to forgo proper shorts underneath in favour of a garment he ascribed as more fashionable for ladies.
Tasha felt completely exposed.
She spent the majority of her time at the party tugging on the hem to ensure her skant didn't ride up.
There had been a moment when Christopher introduced Tasha to one of his old friends.
"Say hello, Natasha," Christopher instructed.
Christopher reached out, resting his hand against the back of Tasha's thigh.
"She's very special to me," Christopher said.
"I'll bet," Adrian said with a smug look.
Internally, Tasha loathed these conversations. Christopher's friends had a way of talking about her without actually treating her like a part of the conversation.
Tasha's body tensed as she felt Christopher's hand creep up the back of her leg – reaching right up under her skant to rest on her backside.
"Please don't," Tasha asked in a soft voice.
It wasn't the first time Christopher had done or said something about her body like that in public. Every time it happened, it made Tasha's stomach turn.
It made her feel like a commodity rather than a person and served as a cruel reminder of the life she had fled on Turkana.
"Relax," Christopher said as he pulled Tasha onto his lap.
They left the party hours later. Christopher was unnervingly silent on the way home.
When he finally did speak, it wasn't to apologise.
"It's alright. I know you're sorry," Christopher said.
Tasha frowned.
Sorry?
Christopher had a way of making Tasha feel as if she'd done something wrong – saying the wrong thing during casual conversation, missing cultural references, or failing to ask the right questions.
It was hard navigating his world.
"I'm sorry," Tasha said, confused.
She racked her brain, trying to recall every moment in hopes of identifying what she had done wrong.
Tasha craved Christopher's approval. Most of her peers at the dorm were far older than Tasha. They didn't see her as a fellow cadet – they largely ignored her.
But Christopher had seen her.
Tasha didn't have to worry about saying, doing, or wearing the right thing to fit in – Christopher was keen to help her with all of that.
And as a fifteen year old child desperately seeking to belong, to be anything other than a scrappy little nobody from a backwater failed colony, Tasha didn't understand that her relationship with Christopher was actually abuse.
Like all great manipulators, Christopher had chosen his target carefully. She had no family, no ties to anyone, and no familiarity with Earth customs.
Tasha was alone. And she had been alone for so long. Christopher thought it was almost amusing the way she had been sceptical at first. It had taken time to win her trust, but Christopher felt that was an investment.
Because Christopher felt he now had a girl he could mould into his perfect woman.
"Aww, you were great," Christopher said against Tasha's ear.
Tasha gripped the console tight as they took a turn at high speed.
Christopher chuckled. He'd done it on purpose.
"Don't worry. I've got you," he whispered.
Present
"Wear it for me?" Data asked, nibbling at her neck.
Wear it for me.
Tasha's entire body tensed. She suddenly felt trapped in Data's arms.
"I don't want to wear this," Tasha declared, slipping out of Data's arms.
She began angrily digging through her dresser in search of her favourite pair of leggings.
"Tasha?" Data asked.
He could sense something was wrong.
She didn't respond. She was wholly focused on finding her favourite pair of buttery-soft fitness leggings and her oversized jumper.
"Tasha?" Data tried again.
There were times in their relationship that it felt like navigating a minefield when it came to triggers. They both shared a variety of external, internal, and trauma-related triggers.
Some of them were shared experiences – like being trapped, the loss of freedom.
For Data, that included small spaces.
For Tasha, it was situations in which her ability to make her own decisions was stripped away.
Most importantly, Data knew that identifying and discussing those triggers was an important step in ensuring they didn't continue to crop up.
Tasha was so engrossed in covering herself up, that she couldn't even hear Data trying to catch her attention.
"Tasha," Data tried again.
She was frantic.
"I am sorry," Data apologised.
Tasha froze, halfway through slipping on her leggings and looked up at Data.
"I am sorry," Data repeated.
He was sitting on the bed, giving her space so that she didn't feel crowded.
Tasha flopped down on the bed next to Data. She looped her hand through Data's arm and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Do you wish to talk about it?" Data asked.
"I'm sorry," Tasha said.
"You have no reason to apologise," Data assured her.
"I know you weren't trying to dictate what I wear – I just," Tasha began to say.
She paused and took a shaky breath.
Tasha knew that Data would never try to make demands about her wardrobe.
"I think just being back here. The city. Campus. It's resurfaced some things I'd just as soon forget," Tasha confessed.
"I apologise," Data said again. "You know that my feelings for you remain unchanged regardless of your attire. You are just as aesthetically pleasing in this garment as you are in a parka."
Tasha chuckled and shook her head.
"That was not intended to be humorous," Data said.
He looped his fingers through Tasha's and pulled her hand into his lap.
"The appeal is from the fact that you feel confident. That is what I find exciting," Data explained.
Data brought Tasha's hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss there.
"I do not want you to ever feel pressured," Data said. "I only desire for you to feel comfortable. And happy."
When Tasha emerged from the bedroom a few moments later, she found Data setting the table.
Breakfast for two.
It was part of their morning routine and something both Data and Tasha had come to relish about being together.
Data looked up from pouring the tea and paused as Tasha stepped into the room.
The way his eyes lit up at the sight of her – hideous oversized jumper and all – made Tasha feel beautiful.
Due to the size and scope of the Academy reunion, there was an endless line of receptions hosted all across campus – each department, many divisions, and a variety of Admirals & other parties all hosted their own receptions.
Some of the more popular ships that had seen different models throughout the history of Starfleet also hosted receptions where the crews of different iterations could come together to reminisce and swap stories.
The Enterprise was a notable exception.
Her predecessor, the Enterprise-C, had been lost twenty years earlier somewhere near the intersection of Federation, Klingon, and Romulan space.
There were whispers of survivors – but those were just rumours.
Out of respect for their fallen comrades, the crew of the Enterprise-D along with the remaining (and dwindling) crews of the former Enterprises A and B had decided against hosting a reception.
It was for the best as there were an ungodly number of parties happening.
While most of the crew had dashed off to catch up with old friends, Data had one specific destination in mind.
They were headed for one of the more obscure receptions – an event hosted by Fleet Admiral Granger, and it was a veritable who's who of ambassadors, bureaucratic brass, and departmental bigwigs.
"Data, what are we doing here?" Tasha asked as she eyed the crowd.
"It is my desire that you meet someone," Data explained as he guided her inside.
He was scanning the room, clearly looking for a specific person.
"An old girlfriend?" Tasha teased.
Data stopped. He turned back to Tasha wearing a look of confusion.
"I have never had a girlfriend," Data said simply.
"What about me?" Tasha prodded.
Data blinked. He glanced around to ensure they would not be overhead before leaning in close.
"You have stated on numerous occasions that you do not like the term," Data said in a worried whisper. "Would you prefer that I introduce you as such? Or is 'partner' still an acceptable term."
He was concerned that he'd offended her.
"No, partner," Tasha assured him. "I was just teasing you."
Data gave her a short nod. He quickly took hold of her arm and pulled her along once more. Tasha didn't know where they were headed, but it was evident he was nervous about something.
"Excuse me, sir," Data said as they approached an older officer.
The man had been watching the band. He turned around, expecting to be greeted by yet another young officer looking to schmooze only to find himself pleasantly surprised.
"Data," he said in disbelief.
Data went to shake his hand. Instead, the man pulled him into a warm embrace.
"It's been too long, my friend," the man said.
Tasha couldn't be sure, but she was fairly certain that he was the former head of Starfleet Operations.
"Tasha, I would like you to meet Admiral Rahim Farooq," Data said as he introduced them.
"Retired," Farooq said with a grin, correcting him.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Tasha said as she shook his hand.
Tasha was stunned.
It wasthe former head of Starfleet Operations. After a long, distinguished career, Farooq had retired a few years earlier to spend more time with his family.
Tasha had no idea Data knew such a high-ranking officer – let alone one that seemed to treat him with the kind of respect and dignity that was so rarely found among those who interacted with Data.
As she watched them, it was genuinely as if two old friends had reunited.
"Admiral-" Data began.
Farooq clapped his hand on Data's shoulder.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Rahim," he insisted. "C'mon, we've known each other for what? Almost twenty-five years now?"
Tasha was taken aback by this revelation. It meant that Data had known the first few years of his activation. Critically, the maths meant Data would have known him beforehis admittance to Starfleet Academy, during the darkest of his days.
Tasha's curiosity was in overdrive. Data had so rarely shared the details of that time outside of his counselling sessions with Deanna.
"After I was brought to earth, Rahim is the officer that," Data trailed off as he searched for the right words. "Recognisedmy sentience."
It was difficult to put into words.
Rahim Farooq had been one of Data's first allies. Farooq had gone so far as to take Data into his home until they could establish a position for him and get him into the Academy.
Had it not been for the kindness of Farooq, Data understood he would likely still be in a crate somewhere in the basement of Starfleet's R&D division.
"Data and I go way back," Farooq said. "And I can't tell you how good it is to see you again! I want to know everything about the Enterprise."
Tasha breathed a sigh of relief.
"Rahim, this is Lieutenant Natasha Yar," Data said.
He caught Tasha's eye.
"My partner," Data added with no small sense of satisfaction.
Farooq gave Data a small smile, belying just how proud he was of how far Data had come. Data's dream of becoming human had started long ago – since the earliest days of his activation.
"Forgive me," Farooq apologised. "All of sudden, I feel ancient. The young man I knew who wasn't sure as to the function of a rubber duck now, eh-"
Farooq motioned to the two of them.
"And is a Lieutenant Commander," Farooq finished.
"And third in command of the Enterprise," Tasha added proudly.
Farooq smiled.
Wordlessly, an understanding passed between the Security Chief and the retired Admiral. They both understood that the other truly viewed Data in a way that was unique – a way that only a handful of people had felt.
"Data, I want to hear all about it," Farooq said brightly.
It had been about a year since the two had last communicated. Farooq had retired to spend more time with his family and had been travelling extensively. While the exchanged subspace communications a few times a year, they were long overdue for a good chinwag.
"I'm just going to grab a drink," Tasha said as she excused herself. "Can I bring anything back for either of you?"
Farooq shook his head in the negative.
"I would like a brandy with bitters. And lemon," Data requested. "And a cherry."
Tasha grinned and headed off to fetch their drinks.
Data turned back to Rahim.
"I have developed the ability to taste," Data explained.
Farooq looked at him curiously.
"What?" he asked.
"I have developed the ability to taste," Data repeated. "It has been a wonderful experience."
As he listened to Data share more about his service on the Enterprise, Rahim finally worked up the courage to ask a question that had been burning on his mind.
"Data, I read about you in a little disciplinary scrap a while back. Regulation 1138," Rahim said. "Was she the one that, well, was this the-"
"Yes, sir," Data replied.
"Good for you," Rahim said with a grin.
And he meant it.
"I'm so proud of you," Rahim said.
"Thank you, sir," Data replied in earnest.
Data felt a strange sensation of warmth surge through his neural net.
Across the room, Tasha was waiting patiently at the bar for Data's drink.
A metre away, a group of officers were chatting casually about resources for a Daystrom Institute. One of the officers was arguing that the future of Starfleet operations depended on artificial intelligence. Another officer was sceptical, fearful that 'machines' couldn't be trusted.
A third made a crack about artificial intelligence being incapable of ever truly appreciating the things that make life worth living.
"Do you think a computer could begin to comprehend the likes of Shakespeare or Tolstoy?" he said. "Is it possible for it to feel moved by Steinbeck? Or is it just words?"
Tasha rolled her eyes and bit back a scoff.
She was quite certain Data knew more about emotion than the three of them combined.
Tasha could overhear every word of their conversation and did her best to keep her cool. Now wasn't the time or place to react. But gods did she want to smack the obnoxious man standing next to her.
"Excuse me," a voice said.
To Tasha's disgust, it was the same arrogant man that had made the comment about 'computer's' being incapable of understanding literary classics.
He was a tall man with dark hair. His uniform indicated that he held the rank of commander. And from what limited conversation she had overhead, she could tell he was full of himself.
It was clear that he had stopped his chit chat with the others to greet her.
Tasha couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something familiar about him.
"I'm sorry, have we met?" Tasha asked, throwing on her best professional voice to mask her disgust.
The man smirked.
"No, I would have remembered that," he said. "Rather, I would have remembered you."
He looked her up and down like a lech and made no attempt to hide it.
Tasha was taken aback – not just by the tone of his voice, but the manner in which he seemed to be leering at her.
"I will unabashedly admit I have a thing for blondes," he added with a smug smirk.
Tasha's glare must have been sufficient in sending her message, as the man's face fell.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "That came off too strong. And probably creepy. I didn't mean to offend you."
He looked sincerely apologetic for his remark.
Tasha nodded stiffly. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd experienced an unwelcome advance. However, she was patient and he seemed genuine in his remorse.
He smiled nervously.
"Lieutenant Yar," Tasha said as she extended her hand.
She figured sticking to her rank would be the best approach to maintain distance and make clear she wasn't interested in interacting beyond a professional capacity.
"Natasha Yar?" he asked with excitement. "Nominated for the Karagite Order? Right?"
"Yeah," Tasha replied.
Instantly, she regretted introducing herself. Tasha wanted to sink into the wall and disappear.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Bruce," he said with a coy smile. "We'll I'm Bruce to my friends and a nightmare to my enemies."
To Tasha's disgust, he winked. In an instant, this man's demeanour had changed once more. The repentant man from before had been replaced by the same arrogance she'd seen him display moments earlier. It was as if the apology had been an act – like a manipulator.
"Commander Bruce Maddox," he said, introducing himself properly.
Tasha froze. A chill settled in her chest.
Suddenly, she recognised the same lanky man from Data's memories during their incident with Q.
"The Cyberneticist?" Tasha asked.
The words left her mouth, but it was like she was operating on a tightly controlled autopilot. She was going through the motions, simply feigning polite interest in order to stop herself from losing control.
Tasha understood it was important to maintain composure. She didn't want to tip Maddox off to Data's presence.
"So you've heard of me?" Maddox asked as the edge of his lip curled up.
He moved closer, resting his hand on the bar counter behind Tasha, his body too close for comfort, and she found herself trapped behind him and the counter.
"You could say that," Tasha replied.
Maddox eyed her empty glass. Tasha fought the urge snap as his hand came to rest on her hip.
"What are you drinking?" Maddox asked.
She plastered the largest smile she could on her face.
"Excuse me," Tasha said.
Tasha slipped out from under his arm and scurried off.
Data.
She had to warn him.
Tasha's heart was racing. She rushed back to Data, doing her best not to arouse the suspicion of Mr Maddox. Knowing she was likely being watched, Tasha had actually gone in the opposite direction of her target and then doubled-back through an exterior corridor in an attempt to throw Maddox off.
She didn't want to bring Data to his attention.
Data was recounting their recent mission involving the black hole when Tasha gripped his arm.
The manner in which she squeezed his elbow indicated there was something she needed to tell him.
"Admiral, would you excuse us for a moment?" Tasha asked.
She pulled Data aside.
"Has something happened?" Data asked, his voice full of concern.
Data could see Tasha was bothered by something. She was glancing around as if to ensure they weren't being watched.
"Data, I don't want to scare you. I'm not really sure how to say this," Tasha said.
She was struggling to find the words.
While Data had made significant strides during his sessions with Deanna, there were times the memories overwhelmed his neural net.
He'd come so far in the last few months since his panic attack on the Edo planet. Tasha didn't want to see him break down in the middle of a reunion. Data had looked forward to this evening.
For someone that had often faced ridicule, this was Data's moment of triumph.
"Tasha?" Data pressed.
"He's here," Tasha said quietly.
She was doing her best to remain calm, but Data could detect the slight widening of her eyes.
He scanned the room in an effort to identify anyone that was familiar. Simultaneously, he ran through a list of any possible people that could cause such a reaction.
Tasha took hold of his hands.
Her face was contorted.
"Bruce Maddox is here," Tasha whispered.
Data blinked twice.
"What do you need?" Tasha asked. "If you want to leave or-"
"No," Data said.
He was looking at nothing as he tried to focus his thoughts, his eyes moving back and back forth rapidly. Data had anticipated this possibility – although he had calculated it would be extremely unlikely for the two to physically cross paths.
There were twenty-eight separate receptions being held across Starfleet HQ, Starfleet Academy grounds, and the greater San Francisco area.
Nearly thirty thousand Starfleet alumni were in attendance.
The odds of a run-in had been slim.
Yet fate seemed to lead them down an intertwining path.
"I am not leaving," Data said firmly.
Data had worked too hard for too long to run away now. He was dressed to the nines and felt more sure of himself than he ever had before.
Data may have initially come to this location years earlier as nothing more than a piece of property – but now he was a Second Officer of the Flagship.
An accomplished exobiologist and engineer with more than a hefty stack of published research.
He spoke eighty-seven languages, played twelve instruments, and had seen a black hole and survived.
There was nothing Bruce Maddox could do to hurt Data.
Not anymore.
"He cannot harm me here. I am no longer his prisoner, and I will not give him the satisfaction of ruining my evening with you," Data declared. "I want to stay. For myself."
Data brought Tasha's hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.
Then they returned hand-in-hand to resume their evening chatting with Admiral Farooq.
They spent well over an hour at the reception as Data and Admiral Farooq caught up with one another. While they had maintained a correspondence, it was a nice change to chat in person.
To Tasha's surprise, Data had worked in Farooq's office during the interim period between his liberation and admittance to Starfleet Academy.
In fact, this is what had sparked Data's initial interest in Starfleet Operations.
"It's a wonder you've never aimed for a higher command," Farooq commented.
Data was unsure how to respond. Ambition wasn't in his nature.
"You know a lot of people thought you wouldn't be able to handle the Bridge Officer Test," Farooq said.
This was not a surprise. Data had faced exceptional scepticism when he'd initially put in to take the examination – not only was he an android, but at the time Data had also been a recent Academy graduate.
It was unheard of.
"And yet your skills and unique perspective were proven in that capacity," Rahim continued. "You passed with flying colours."
"One of only two perfect scores," Tasha chimed in.
Data cocked his head to the side.
"I did not share that information with you," Data said.
Tasha smirked and took a sip of her drink.
No, he hadn't shared that fact with her. Tasha had read it in his file two years earlier when Captain Picard had tasked her with combing through his list of final candidates for a senior Bridge crew before the Enterprisehad been christened.
She remembered being surprised and impressed by his service record – in particular his Bridge Officer Test results.
"Profiling iswhat I do," Tasha replied.
Data excused himself to get another round of drinks. Tasha had asked if he was certain he wished to go alone, but Data assured her he felt safe.
Once Data was out of earshot, Rahim felt comfortable sharing something he'd been holding onto for a while.
"You're not what I expected," Rahim admitted.
"Um-" Tasha started.
"I just meant, when I had first heard that Data was involved in a disciplinary hearing for Regulation 1138 I was concerned," Rahim clarified.
He glanced across the room to where Data was standing at the bar.
"I've known him for nearly twenty-five years. He's the strongest person I know," Rahim went on. "A duranium skeleton and a heart of gold."
Tasha listened patiently.
"I've always been a little protective of him," Rahim informed her. "And when I reached out following the hearing, Data said he was involved in a relationship but refused to discuss details."
Rahim sighed.
"That worried me," Rahim confessed.
Rahim explained that Data had been scant on details, hesitant to share much of anything with him about this relationship. Knowing full well Data's history, that had sent up red flags.
"You were concerned because he's been taken advantage of in the past," Tasha said, filling in the blanks.
Rahim nodded.
He looked slightly embarrassed.
"He told me that he couldn't talk about it. He insisted on privacy," Rahim said. "So, I asked him to meet me at the reunion because I wanted to suss it out. And initially when he mentioned you were unwilling to attend-"
Rahim trailed off and shrugged.
Tasha could understand Rahim's reservations.
"You assumed something was afoot," Tasha finished for him.
"Afoot?" Rahim asked as he quirked an eyebrow at her.
Tasha laughed and shook her head.
"Data's quite into Sherlock Holmes," Tasha said as she pointed back over her shoulder. "Sort of a new hobby. We, erm, read them together."
"I misjudged you," Rahim acknowledged.
She couldn't blame him.
After everything Data had gone through, it was only natural for him to be concerned. Tasha could understand how secrecy and reluctance to appear in person could be misinterpreted.
"I'm glad to know he's got you looking out for him," Tasha replied.
Just past her shoulder, Rahim could see Data was heading back in their direction.
"You really care about him, don't you?" Farooq asked.
"Yeah," Tasha admitted. "I do."
"Who was the other perfect score?" Data inquired.
Tasha glanced back over her shoulder at him.
"Does it matter?" Tasha asked.
"I must admit the possibility that there is someone else out there capable of impressing you so is unsettling," Data said.
His tone was even, but Tasha knew it was intended as a jest. She looped her arm through Data's and buried her head against his chest, laughing.
It was a relief to see him in this kind of mood given that he'd spent most of the evening in the same building as his abuser.
"You mean to tell me you really don't know?" Tasha questioned.
"Comparing test scores is not an accurate assessment of individual performance or worth," Data advised. "I have never seen value in such a need to compete."
"Commander, well now I guess AmbassadorSpock," Tasha informed him.
Data paused.
"Ambassador Spock?" Data asked to clarify.
"Yeah," Tasha confirmed before flashing him one of her signature smiles.
They were walking along the grounds on a path that overlooked the bay. It was situated at the edge of campus and was not one of the main walkways – meaning it was largely abandoned as most alumni were still dancing or drinking inside.
After leaving the reception where Admiral Farooq was present, they'd stopped in to meet up with Deanna and Will at another nearby reception.
Between the thousands of people present and the band, it had been a loud atmosphere. Tasha had been shouting just to communicate with Will and Deanna. Data had turned off his audio receptors altogether – there had been too many sounds and voices to process.
They hadn't stayed long – just long enough to make an appearance and to try William Riker's 'signature' drink before ducking out.
Now they were walking alone. The air was cool as it came up off the bay and Data could tell by the difference in the dew point and the air temperature that fog wasn't far off.
It was a beautiful autumn night and Data found himself wishing they had booked accommodations on the surface.
Some of the crew – including many of the other senior officers – would not be returning to the ship. They were travelling straight from the reunion to their next destination for shore leave.
But Data and Tasha had other plans.
Well, Tasha had plans for them.
Data was still in the dark when it came to their mysterious shore leave surprise.
Tasha had even seen to packing for Data to ensure there would be no hint of what was to come. All Data knew was that they were leaving early in the morning.
"You know once we're done with the reunion our leave officially begins," Tasha said. "Which means, as long as we don't step foot in any other receptions, technically our leave couldbegin now."
She flashed Data a knowing smile and left the rest unspoken.
Data and Tasha dashed across campus. They made a beeline for the tram station.
They were just about to the doors when Tasha pulled Data into a corner behind one of the large, concrete support pillars.
She put a finger to her lips to indicate they should be quiet.
Data looked down at her curiously.
There was a group of men coming out of the doors, heading back toward the reception. It only took Data a few seconds to identify a number of factors. Unfortunately, none of these facts helped him understand Tasha's strange reaction.
They were a mix of officers – all Commanders and Lieutenant Commanders.
"C'mon, let's just go back to the party with Kyle and Davey, eh?" one of them said.
"Not until I've spoken with Admiral Jarreau," one of the officers responded in a lazy drawl. "They're looking for a new First Officer on the Sutherland and I'll be damned if they give that posting to someone else."
"Chris! You're killing me," the first officer growled.
"Christopher," a third officer said in a taunting voice.
"Whenever you two decide to grow up, I'll be off at Landry Hall securing my next posting," the second officer commented.
His pips signified the rank of Lieutenant Commander. He was tall – nearly Riker's size. But unlike the jovial First Officer of the Enterprise, this man seemed to carry himself with an attitude so different from Riker's approachable manner.
Data was about to speak when Tasha put up a hand to stop him.
He didn't question it.
Once the group had moved on, Tasha visibly relaxed.
"Why did you avoid them?" Data asked.
His tone wasn't accusatory. His eyes were full of patience.
"It's stupid," Tasha replied dismissively. "Come on, let's go."
Data put out a hand to stop her, keeping Tasha trapped between him and the concrete pillar at her back.
"It appeared to be significant," Data said, contradicting her.
"Just a nobody ex-boyfriend from a million years ago," Tasha said.
She was hoping her answer was sufficient and that Data would drop the matter.
But Data's sensory receptors allowed him to pick up on changes that may have gone unnoticed by a humanoid. While Tasha appeared composed on the outside, her heart rate had increased, and her body temperature had shot up.
Tasha could tell by the way he was looking at her that Data wasn't going to let it go.
"You are clearly bothered," Data observed.
Tasha exhaled slowly. Tasha clasped her hands together and then bit down on the top of them as she considered what to say.
Tasha had to choose her words carefully. They were supposed to be on leave. This wasn't the time or the place to dredge up painful memories.
"This is why I don't like coming back here," Tasha confessed.
She felt like such a fool. Data had spent the entire evening in the same room as his abuser without letting it get to him while Tasha could hardly stand the pressure of hiding in the shadows at the sight of her own.
Data said nothing, content to be patient and give her time to tell her story at her own pace.
"When I was a first-year cadet I got involved with this guy. He was older. An officer. A Lieutenant," Tasha paused.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"The type of officer desperate to advance. His ego wouldn't fit on a transport freighter," Tasha said.
Data frowned. He recognised she was using humour to deflect.
"He seemed so refined. I couldn't believe someone like him could possibly be interested in a scrappy little nobody like me," Tasha went on.
Tasha still cringed at herself whenever she reflected on that time in her life. She was embarrassed about the choices she'd made. More so, she was frustrated that she continued to let them bother her.
Tasha knew there was no changing the past.
She grumbled under her breath. Tasha closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the concrete pillar.
"I was young. And naive. And desperate to be anythingother than who I was," Tasha shared.
Data was listening attentively, but he hadn't blinked since Tasha had started.
"He hurt you," Data realised aloud.
It wasn't spoken as a question.
Tasha waved her head in protest. She didn't want to admit that – not to Data and certainly not as they were about to start their first real shore leave together.
"He was just a prat and I'd rather not see him again," Tasha said, downplaying her experience.
A dark look crossed Data's face.
"It was the Lieutenant Commander that passed," Data said, adding it up in his mind.
Data looked over to the grounds and Tasha could see he was in deep thought.
"Whoa, hey. We're on leave," Tasha reminded him. "Don't think about it."
"Tasha, that man is at least fifteen years older than you," Data said.
Tasha laughed nervously.
"Not quite. Like I said young and dumb," she informed him. "It's embarrassing and I'd rather we talk about anything else."
She was desperate to change the topic.
It wasn't simply embarrassing. When Tasha had finally found the courage to break ties with Christopher Hobson, he'd abused his role as an officer to humiliate Tasha as retaliation – a fact that followed Tasha throughout much of her early career.
Even when stationed on the Crazy Horse there were rumours and whispers based on Hobson's smear of Tasha's character.
"I was a fool," Tasha said.
"You were a child," Data countered as he gripped her chin and forced her to meet his eyes.
"Yeah, I guess," she replied in a faraway voice.
"No. You were a child," Data reiterated. "And anything that man did to you is not your fault."
Suddenly, Data was struck by an idea.
"Tasha, is that man the reason you were uncomfortable this morning? Did he force you to-"
Before he could ask anything more, Tasha interjected.
"Do you want to head back to my dorm and fool around?" Tasha teased as she tugged Data along towards the tram.
Data stopped and studied her reaction. He was concerned by sudden change in attitude, worried she was attempting to redirect the conversation in order to avoid confronting the issue.
"I'm fine," Tasha assured him. "It was a long time ago."
"Tasha-" Data started to say.
"And I'm not going to let him ruin my evening with you," Tasha said, throwing his own words from earlier back at him.
She gave his hand a squeeze and leaned in close.
Tasha whispered something in his ear.
Data's eyes lit up.
She backed away toward the tram.
"For myself," Tasha said before adding with a grin, "your move, Data."
Hours later, Tasha was lying atop Data in her bed. Data had lowered the ambient temperature and the lights were low.
Data was tracing lazy circles along the length of Tasha's bare spine. The bedsheet was resting just above Tasha's backside, but otherwise the two of them were exposed.
Tasha snuggled down against Data's chest as she caressed his leg with her foot.
For all their collective trauma and the challenge of opening up about their experiences, Data and Tasha felt most comfortable lying with one another – unabashedly bare, their bodies pressed together.
So much of their abuse had focused on stripping away their own autonomy. Both Data and Tasha had been conditioned to think of themselves as property.
No individuality.
No worth.
It was a miracle either of them had escaped.
And no small wonder they had found each other.
Data still wasn't sure if he believed in fate.
He was familiar with the concept. It was a recurring theme in the literary traditions of many cultures from early Vulcan philosophers and Orion poets to Earth's own antiquity.
The rational part of his mind understood that in the grand scheme of the universe, there was one constant – life was uncertain, things were far outside of the control of any one person or organisation or even deity.
And yet.
The probability that Data and Tasha would ever escape their imprisonment was shockingly low.
Given their own individual bad experiences in their earliest contact with Starfleet, it was a wonder either of them had chosen to pursue a career with such an organisation.
Somehow out of all the hundreds of thousands of postings, Data and Tasha happened to wind up serving on the same ship at the same time.
The chance they would ever find each other was infinitesimal.
And yet their relationship defied all the odds.
Data wasn't sure if he believed in fate. But he wasn't ready to write it off either – the evidence of such a notion was quite literally lying atop his chest.
Tasha shivered against the cold.
Data reached down and pulled the sheet up over her shoulders. Then he kissed the top of her head.
"You should rest," Data said.
"Mmm," Tasha replied in a hazy voice. "What time is it?"
Data hesitated. He knew even a brief nap would be better than no sleep.
When Data didn't respond, Tasha stirred. Perched on one hand, she squinted and tried to read the timepiece on the nightstand.
Muttering under her breath, Tasha collapsed back on top of Data.
"We have to get up," she said.
It was difficult to tell if her grumble was simply exhaustion or frustration about the trip.
"Perhaps you should rest, and we can delay our departure?" Data suggested.
Tasha's body tensed as she yawned and stretched.
"No," she said, struggling to keep her eyes open. "We have to get up."
Data sat down next to Tasha on the sofa in her quarters. It was early, just before 05:00 and they hadn't slept.
Well, Datahadn't slept.
Fifteen minutes earlier, Tasha had sat down on the sofa to put on her boots and promptly fallen asleep.
"It is time to go," Data said softly.
He brushed her bangs out of her face.
Tasha jolted awake, blinking the sleep out of her eyes as she glanced around.
"Are we late?" she asked urgently.
"Not yet," Data replied.
Tasha grunted in frustration. She hadn't even managed to get her shoes on yet.
But they were due down below at 05:00 and it was important that they arrive on time. Their ride had his own breakfast plans and couldn't afford to be late.
"Good morning!" Captain Picard said as they stepped onto the bridge of the Captain's yacht.
"Thanks again for doing this," Tasha said with a yawn as she flopped down at the helm.
"No, no," Picard insisted. "I will pilot my own yacht, Lieutenant."
Tasha didn't protest.
After a short hour ride to the surface, Captain Picard registered a flight plan with the station in Blackburn. Data was ever more curious as to what lay in store.
Captain Picard landed his yacht in an empty field and Data and Tasha disembarked.
"I'll pick you up in five days' time," Picard explained as he walked them to the door of the shuttle.
As Jean-Luc stepped off onto the grass, he sighed contentedly as he took in the scenery.
"You're going to love it," Picard said brightly as he clapped his hand down on Data's shoulder.
With a short nod, he was off.
Tasha strapped her climbing pack around her chest. She slung her Parrises Squares bag over her shoulder and slipped on a pair of sunglasses.
Data scanned the terrain.
The air temperature was chilly, but not entirely unexpected for Autumn. They had landed somewhere in the north of England.
They were standing in the middle of a field surrounded by limestone hills. There were fields carved out, lined by ancient stone walls that sat low along the ground. In the distance, Data spied mountains.
A metre away, there was a large sign that warned visitors that no shuttles, powered vehicles, communicators, or computers were permitted beyond the sign.
But as Data glanced around, he was having a hard time determining exactly whythey were in this field in the north of England.
"Tasha, we are in the middle of nowhere," Data remarked.
"C'mon, it's about six klicks to town," Tasha said.
"What town? Where are we going?" Data asked.
Tasha flashed him a brilliant smile.
"Somewhere just for us," Tasha replied.
She looped her fingers through his and they set off hand-in-hand down a dirt road.