To The Journey
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. This is an AU story.
Chapter Four: The Next Step
"Do you think he suspects?" Will asked almost anxiously.
"I thought you had more confidence in me than that. You know, though, that he'll be suspicious the second we bring him in."
"Yes, well, by then it'll be too late." Will didn't seem too worried.
"D'Sora to Yar."
"Go ahead."
"We're in position."
Tasha nodded. "Proceed with the mission."
They sat in silence for a few minutes until Tasha's combadge crackled again. "D'Sora to Yar. We have him confined."
"Hold down the fort. We'll meet you there." She heard Will behind her, alerting the rest of the crew that the first stage of their mission was complete. They hurried down the hall and stepped into the all-important room.
The holodeck had been programmed to resemble an old sailing ship, and all of them were dressed in costumes to match. Tasha and Will were the last to arrive, having remained behind in case something happened. As soon as they arrived, Picard nodded.
"All assembled?"
"Yes, sir!" everyone yelled.
"Bring out the prisoner!" Will shouted. Worf was dragged onto the deck in chains.
"Mr. Worf, I always knew this day would come," the Captain said solemnly. "Are you prepared to face the charges?"
"Answer him!" Deanna snapped when Worf said nothing.
"I am prepared," the Klingon said resignedly.
Riker began to read off a piece of paper he held. "We, the officers and crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise, being of sound mind and judgment, hereby make the following charges against Lieutenant Worf. One. That he did knowingly and willfully perform above and beyond the call of duty on countless occasions. Two. Most seriously, that he has earned the admiration and respect of the entire crew."
"Mr. Worf," and here Picard cracked a smile, "I hereby promote you to the rank of Lieutenant Commander, with all the rights and privileges thereto. And may God have mercy on your soul." The crowd burst into cheers. "Congratulations, Mr. Worf."
"Thank you, sir," Worf said formally.
"Extend the plank!" Riker yelled to cheers. "Lower the badge of office."
An officer's hat was dangled over the end of the plank. Worf began slowly, carefully inching towards it.
"He'll never make it," Tasha heard Will say. "No one ever has."
But Worf had other plans. With the precision learned by years of Klingon calisthenics, he jumped, grabbed the hat, and landed safely back on the plank. The crowd went wild.
"If there's one thing I've learned over the years," Picard commented, "it's never to underestimate a Klingon."
"Remove the plank!" Will shouted, a glint in his eye telling Tasha he was up to something. It didn't take long to figure out what. On command, the computer removed the plank - from the simulation. Worf plunged instantly into the water, drawing gales of laughter from the onlookers.
"Number One," Picard sighed resignedly, "that's retract the plank, not remove it."
"Of course, sir," Will laughed. "Sorry!"
Tasha was too busy watching Worf to really take into account what was happening next to her - at least until another blur fell off the ship, knocking Worf back into the water on its way. As they landed, Tasha realized the form was that of Beverly Crusher.
And Data was standing next to the railing, where the Doctor had been a moment ago.
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"La Forge to Yar."
"Go ahead, Geordi," she answered absently, barely looking up from the "book" she was reading on her data PADD. She hoped it wasn't terribly important. Dealing with the destroyed observatory station had been physically and emotionally taxing, and she didn't want more on her plate.
"Tasha, there's, uh, there's something I should tell you."
Now she was all ears. "What's up?"
"Well, you know how Data knocked the Doctor in the water trying to understand humor?"
"Yeah?" She'd heard the whole story from Data after the fact.
"Well, he's decided that he's hit a wall, basically. And as far as he's concerned, there's only one way to get past it."
"And that is?" She had a feeling this was the crux of the issue.
"The emotion chip."
"Oh, God."
"Yeah, well, Data's managed to debunk every concern I come up with. You know as well as I do that you can't really stop him -"
"And I wouldn't if I could. Whatever I think, this is Data's choice."
"I figured. Just wanted to let you know. Where are you?"
"Ten-Forward."
"I have a feeling that's our first destination. Just sit tight."
"Why?"
She could almost hear Geordi's smile. "You'll see."
Yes, this would definitely be more interesting than Number the Stars. Annemarie Johansen could wait.
It seemed like an eternity, though it was really only a few minutes, before Geordi and Data walked in. Tasha's first thought was that Data looked incredibly normal. She had expected him to look - different. Changed, somehow.
She watched him trying the drink Guinan offered and couldn't help laughing when Data declared his pleasure at his hatred of it. But her laughter stopped suddenly when he turned, making eye contact with her.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Data began to walk, coming slowly to her table. He swallowed, and it struck her that while he'd displayed thoughts similar to many emotions, this was the first time she'd ever seen him do anything resembling nervous. Not that she blamed him. She was nervous too.
"You are," he said finally, "the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."
"Data -" but she didn't know what else to say. What did someone say under these circumstances?
"I love you." His hand found hers, lifted it off the table, and he brought both of them to the side of her face. "I love you."
"Oh, Data. Data, I -"
She was cut off when he captured her mouth with hers. The kiss deepened, the most passionate kiss they had ever shared.
"What were you trying to tell me?" he asked after he'd finally let her breathe.
"I love you too."
He kissed her again, even deeper than the first. She forced herself, reluctantly, to pull away.
"Data, not here."
"What?"
"Not here. We shouldn't do this here. Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"Our quarters."
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"That was - amazing," she whispered breathlessly.
"Indeed it was." His hands continued to caress her body. "I have never experienced such intense sensations before." His lips were almost on hers when -
"Riker to Data."
Data abruptly broke the embrace, and Tasha was treated to a sight she certainly enjoyed as he searched almost frantically on the floor for his combadge. He found it quickly and pressed it. "Data here."
"Data, I want you and Geordi to go over to the observatory with the next away team. You're to scan the observatory for traces of trilithium."
"Yes, sir. When and from where does the team depart?"
"Twenty minutes, Transporter Room Two."
"Understood, sir."
"Riker out."
"I wish we had more time."
"We do. Later. Now please, go get in the shower."
"Why?"
"Because seeing you stand there naked like that is making me want to do something I shouldn't."
And Data did something she would never forget.
He smiled at her.
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Tasha pulled on her freshly replicated pair of pants, laughing despite herself as she recycled the ones Data had accidentally torn. They had quickly discovered a new side to his emotions. In the past, Data had always been careful, in that precise, clinical way of his, to put her clothes in one place and his in another, aware of the fact that their uniforms were identical in all but size. However, passion had overridden precision and their clothes had ended up scattered all over the bedroom, and Data had managed to grab and don the wrong pair of pants, ripping them down the seam before he'd realized his mistake.
Even when Q had given Data his little "gift", Tasha had not realized what a nice laugh Data had. For the moment, the problems of the world might not exist as she explored every new facet of the man she loved. The way he clung to her, giving her five "one more" kisses, the way he pouted when she shooed him out the door. But the most amazing thing was, it was still Data. Just new aspects of Data.
Just as she finished dressing, the ship lurched and she tumbled to the deck. "Yar to Bridge. What's going on?"
"No time." Will's voice was short. "Meet me in Transporter Room One. Bring a phaser."
When he talked like that, it was serious. "I'm on my way."
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Tasha was more than a little confused as to why Soran, the observatory scientist, was firing at them. All they wanted to do was get him and their people off the station before the nearby sun went nova.
But that wasn't all. Geordi lay unconscious on the deck, and Data was cowering in a corner. Yes, something was definitely wrong.
"Data!" Will yelled. "See if you can get to Geordi."
"I - I cannot," he said in a trembling voice, and suddenly Tasha realized what was happening. For the first time in his life, Data was experiencing fear. And he had no clue how to process it.
"I'll try to get him," she whispered over Will's shoulder. But Soran got there first, and in an instant he and Geordi were gone.
"Enterprise to Riker. We need to get you out of there, but we only have three signals."
"Transport those three, now!"
They materialized on the transporter pad, and as soon the transporter operator called to tell the Captain they were aboard, Tasha could feel the vibrations of the warp engines as they shot out of there.
Will strode off to the bridge, but Data remained frozen in place, sitting on the pad. Tasha turned to the transporter operator. "Could you step outside for a moment?"
The operator nodded wordlessly, and Tasha approached Data. "Hey, it's okay. We're back on the Enterprise now."
He didn't move. "I know."
"Then what's wrong?"
"I - what I did was inexcusable. I was too afraid to help Geordi."
"Data, fear is a normal response to a dangerous situation."
"You did not look so afraid."
"Data, one of the things officers learn is how to deal with fear, how to work around it. But because you never had emotions, that was never necessary. You were thrown into a situation you weren't prepared for. No one blames you for being afraid."
"Geordi -"
"Wouldn't blame you if he were here, so give it a rest. Right now the best thing you can do is help us figure out where Soran might have gone."
He accepted her outstretched hand, not really needing to be helped up, but needing the symbolic gesture. "Then that is what I must do."
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From what Tasha heard later, it hadn't turned out to be as easy as all that. He'd apparently had a minor breakdown in Stellar Cartography, and the Captain had had to snap him out of it. But, guilt-ridden or not, his work was as good as it ever was. They knew where to find the Klingon ship.
At least, they believed they had. But the problem with a cloaked ship was that they could have, for all they knew, been staring down empty space around Veridian Three.
And, Tasha realized quickly, there was more bad news. She'd been analyzing the attack Soran had made on the star near the observatory, and the results were grim. " Sir, according to my calculations, a solar probe launched from either the Klingon ship or the planet's surface will take eleven seconds to reach the sun. However, out an exact point of origin, it will take us between eight and fifteen seconds to lock our weapons onto it."
"That's a pretty big margin of error," Will sighed. "Much too big."
"Mr Data, how long before the ribbon arrives?" Picard asked.
"Approximately forty-seven minutes, sir."
The Captain all but hit the arm of his chair in frustration. "I've got to find some way to get to Soran."
"Klingon vessel decloaking directly ahead, sir," Tasha reported, instantly on alert. "They are hailing."
"On screen."
The faces of Lursa and B'Etor, a pair of Klingon sisters who had caused more than their fair share of trouble for the Enterprise crew. Lursa spoke fast. "Captain. What an unexpected pleasure."
"Lursa, It is very important that I speak with Soran."
"I'm afraid," she said silkily, "the Doctor is no longer aboard our ship."
If the Captain was perturbed by this, he didn't show it. "Then I will beam to his location."
B'Etor almost growled, "The Doctor values his privacy. He would be quite upset if an armed away team interrupted him."
Picard had an answer for that as well. "Then I will beam to your ship and you can transport me to Soran."
Tasha was ready to object, but Will beat her to it. "Captain, you can't trust them. For all you know they killed Geordi. They might kill you too."
"We did not harm your Engineer," Lursa informed them, and Tasha could see Data let out a sigh of unspeakable relief. "He's been our ...guest."
"Then return him!" Will demanded.
"In exchange," B'Etor asked, baring her teeth, "for what?"
"Me sir." Data offered, and Tasha opened her mouth to object. She didn't care how guilty he felt, she wasn't going to lose him. But the Captain had other plans as well.
"Me," Picard said calmly. "I will be your prisoner, but first you must beam me to the surface so I can speak with Soran."
"The Captain would make a much more valuable hostage." B'Etor appeared to be considering the offer.
But it was Lursa who officially agreed. "We'll consider it a prisoner exchange."
"Agreed." Picard keyed his comm. "Have Doctor Crusher meet me in transporter room three. You have the bridge, Number One. Natasha, you're with me in case they try anything."
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It was when she saw Geordi that Tasha began to understand why, what seemed like a lifetime ago, Tom Paris had been so eager to join the Maquis in return for what they had done to her. Lursa had said he hadn't been hurt, but unharmed people generally did not look like the engineer did at this moment. Silently, she offered her old friend an apology.
Geordi's knees buckled as soon as the transporter let him go, and Tasha raced to his side, followed by Beverly and her medical team. Tasha took his hand in hers and pulled his head to rest in her lap, comforting him as he had done for her countless times in the years they had known each other. His body was damp with sweat and he was trembling from exhaustion and fear. His hand clamped onto hers as though letting go might mean returning to the Klingon ship.
"Shh, it's all right, I'm here," she whispered. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."
Her voice reached Geordi through a haze. Yes, of course it's going to be okay. It is if you say it is. You've never lied to me. I trust you. But he couldn't make his mouth form the words. Right now, he desperately wanted to sleep, and he felt safe there in her arms. So he allowed the blackness that had been hovering at the edge of his mind to engulf him.
Tasha felt him go limp in her arms as he lost consciousness, and she looked up in alarm at Beverly, who was already scanning him. "It's nothing serious," the doctor assured her. "He's exhausted. He just needed to rest."
"What's wrong with him?"
"As far as I can tell, he's suffered multiple cardiac arrests in the last few hours."
"What? How?"
Beverly frowned. "According to my scan, he has some sort of nanoprobe attached to his heart. My guess is that it was used to induce heart attacks."
"Is he going to be all right?"
"I'll need to do microsurgery to remove the probe, but he won't have any permanent damage." She called for a stretcher, and Tasha continued to hold him until it arrived.
A somewhat awkward place to break off, but the tone of this bit is about to change, and it had to be cut somewhere or it was going to be way too long for a single chapter.
The nanoprobe heart attack thing is a real concept that can be seen in deleted scenes from Star Trek Generations and in the novelization.
Hope you liked my version of the emotion chip installation. For anyone not familiar with my writing, there will be mentions of adult themes, as there were in this chapter, but they won't get much more explicit than they were in this chapter, which is why the story is T and not M.
Number the Stars is a real book, and a fabulous one, which I highly recommend. For what it's worth, every book I mention in any story, unless it's tied to canon (like Tom Paris' canon attachment to 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea) will be one I know and love.
Please review. Still can't understand why I'm not getting more reviews. I really do write personal responses. And I also accept anonymous reviews, though of course I can't reply to those.