When the party was over (or at least when the most sensible attendees had left) Data returned to his quarters, but he could not find Charles. When he got to the dorm room, he hunted around for his missing friend but could not find him. He wondered where he could be. Having had no luck, he decided to give up and continue his search in the morning, which would be very soon. He closed his eyes and began his imitation of sleep, having put his power source on stand by. He had had a productive session of file reorganising and had been dormant for a while when he heard a noise. He opened his eyes, imitated a yawn, waited for his systems to wake up then focused on the strange sound.
The door slid open and in crept Charles. His dark hair was on-end and mussed up, his eyes looked tired and slightly guilty and his clothes were crumpled and badly put on.
Data raised an eyebrow at the sight.
"Morning, Data," he muttered.
Data smiled. "Good morning, Charles. I trust you have had a pleasant night?"
Charles blushed. "Yes," he said tightly.
"Where have you been?" Data asked.
Charles winced and thought about an explanation. "I'll tell you later. Look, I'm going to have a shower. It's not late, is it?" He looked at the clock. "Half-six, not too bad." He made for the bathroom and leapt into the shower.
Data nodded curtly and tried to think of where his roommate had been that night. He decided that he would ask around, having had no luck in consulting databases on human behaviour.
Charles emerged from the shower a few minutes later, a towel wrapped around his waist. He had a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, as well as a mouthful of toothpaste. He hobbled over to the sink, rinsed, then got changed.
Data watched genially as he always did, noting down aspects of human behaviour.
"Did you miss me?" Charles joked as he combed his hair.
Data pursed his lips. "I was aware of your absence."
Charles slapped him on the back jovially and Data noted the elevation in Charles' mood.
"Anywho, let's get to lessons," Charles said decidedly.
"Are we not going to convene in the mess hall first, as usual?" Data inquired.
"I'm not hungry," Charles said with a shrug. "Besides, I have already brushed my teeth." He smiled. "Unless you wanted to go to the mess hall."
Data stood up. "Not at all. But I appreciate your concern. I believe that my first lesson is Engineering."
"What do I have?" Charles mused.
Data failed to see the rhetorical nature of the question. "His eyes flicked from left to right. I believe that you have enrolled in the First Aid class."
Charles smiled wryly. "How did you know?"
"I wirelessly downloaded the Academy's personnel files into my neural net," Data replies honestly.
Charles frowned. "You shouldn't have done that. That's illegal. Quite illegal."
"You misunderstand," Data reiterated. "I have only acquired the files relating to your timetable routine, as I understand that you are prone to forgetfulness. I have not had access to the personal details of other crew members, or indeed of yourself or my own."
Charles breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. And thanks. Which room am I in?"
Data consulted his memory. "Ah yes. The Curie Block. Room C4."
"Thanks, Data. I'll see you later." With that he left and Data followed.
Data made his way to the main Engineering lab and took a seat. In the room there was quite a commotion. He wondered for a moment if it was something to do with Hendricks' presence in the vicinity.
"This is so exciting, don't you think?" a cadet asked him.
Data frowned slightly. "Forgive me. What is happening?"
"Don't you know?" She looked astounded. "Stanley Dyas is giving his talk on hull integrity!" She squealed, her eyes full of glee.
Data nodded. "Of course. I estimate that this will be a most fruitful and groundbreaking discussion."
The room went silent as the guest arrived and everyone applauded his presence.
"Good morning, cadets," Dyas began. "I have been told that you few in this room are the cream of the crop. Don't disappoint me."
The girl sat beside Data swallowed nervously.
"Don't look so worried," the guest speaker chuckled. "I have no doubt in the ability of any of you." He clapped his hands together. "Now, today, I thought I'd show you all how to polarise a piece of hull plating in this very lab." He began to set up his equipment and the class began taking detailed diagrams of it.
"But first, can anyone tell me what the first instance of using polarised hull plating as a method of defence was?" he asked.
Every single hand went up.
He nodded to one cadet, who proudly announced, "The NX-01 Enterprise in 2151."
"Yes," Dyas agreed. "With the advent of shield technology, polarising hulls of ships has become vastly unpopular. However, it carries one advantage: It does not need repairing." He looked at the class. "I am sure that you have all heard of the Warp Five Complex." His class nodded. "Now, that project was headed by Sir Anthony Bartholomew. He was my ancestor. He was the first person to publicly acknowledge the use of polarisation to strengthen spacecraft hulls."
Meanwhile, Charles had found his way to the correct room and was sat in the First Aid class. He had not chosen to do it. It was a requirement for all cadets to undergo basic medical training. He sat at his desk, breathing air through his lips and looking around.
"Is this seat taken?"
He recognised the voice and could not hide the growing blush on his face.
Seb sat down beside him. "I didn't mean to be quite so late."
"At least you're not as late as Mr T'Lar," Charles said with a wry smile.
He rubbed his eyes. "Who?"
"The teacher," Charles explained. "Vulcans, for all their logic, can't seem to get to places on time."
Just as he said that, a giant of a Vulcan stepped through the door. "I apologise, class," he said calmly. "I could not locate this area."
"Listen, Seb, about last night-"
Seb opened his mouth but quickly shut it when the teacher reprimanded them.
"Do not talk whilst your elders are talking," the Vulcan said coldly. "There is a human saying, I believe," their teacher began. "A healthy body is a healthy mind. I believe it is apt." He nodded to the class. "You each have before you a set of tools: a bandage, a thermometer, some water, as well as a padd."
He waited for the cadets to familiarise themselves with the equipment. "Now, you will access some files concerning this lesson's itinerary on your padd. You will then read and learn these files and apply them to the situations I give you."
"Why did you leave so suddenly last night?" Seb asked as they looked at their computers.
Charles put his things down and looked at Seb. "I didn't want to. I had a really nice time. But I didn't want to have to leave Data, either. He can't worry, I know that, but I think perhaps he can get lonely." He sighed. "I'm sorry."
Seb smiled. "Don't apologise, Charles. I understand. I was just curious."
"Anyway, we had better get reading," Charles said, nodding to what could have been irritation on the Vulcan's face.
"The first situation which you will have come across, had you been doing what you were supposed to be doing," he said, looking harshly at a few cadets. "Will have been a grade one plasma burn. Since this scenario is too dangerous to recreate precisely, you were asked to learn the symptoms. Exhibit them."
The class obeyed and he nodded in acceptance.
"Now, find a partner with whom you will carry out this activity."
There was a momentary commotion, but it subsided when everyone had paired up.
"Commence," T'Lar said, watching the class with dark, critical eyes.
"Do you want to be the victim or shall I?" Charles offered.
"I'll let you do the honours." Seb looked at his padd. "Right. You have just been wounded by a Klingon bat'leth."
"Severely?" Charles asked.
Seb frowned and read the article. "Yes. Your arm has been slashed. You're losing blood and consciousness very quickly."
Charles feigned light-headedness, his eyes opening and closing rapidly, his breathing heavy. He heard a few cadets howling in false pain. Some of the pained cries were definitely over-the-top, and T'lar picked up on it.
"So," Seb talked to himself. "I need to inspect the wound for any foreign objects." He stared at Charles' arm. "Then I need to disinfect the wound." He sprayed some water on Charles' arm, which stood in for the antiseptic spray. Then he scanned a dummy dermal regenerator over the affected area and bandaged it up.
Their teacher decided that five minutes was enough time and began to inspect the handiwork. He came to Charles and Seb's and nodded with approval.
"Class, this is the standard which I expect," he announced, motioning for the rest of the cadets to crowd around Charles and Seb, to see what they had done.
Then they were left to carry out the second task.
"Your comrade has fallen unconscious," Charles said aloud. "You do not yet know the reason but need to act fast. The first step is to..." He nodded and grinned. "Lie down," he ordered Seb.
"What? Now?"
Charles rolled his eyes. "You're supposed to be unconscious."
"Oh, of course." He conceded and lay down on the floor.
"Close your eyes," Charles added; Seb did so.
"It's rather cold down here," Seb muttered, trying to get comfortable.
"Unconscious people don't feel the cold," Charles reminded him. "And they certainly don't complain."
"Fair enough," Seb agreed unwillingly.
"Now, I need to get you into the recovery position," Charles mused.
Seb opened an eye. "You do?"
Charles' face reddened. "Shut up." He picked up the tablet. "Right, your arm goes... here. Your leg... here."
T'Lar saw their set-up and gave them a look of Vulcan appreciation, which was nothing more than a blank stare.
"And now?" T'Lar asked them.
Seb sat up and was about to answer but was cut off by the Vulcan.
"You are meant to be unconscious. The question was posed to your friend," he said gruffly. "Your recovery position is acceptable. Now you must try manual stimulation of the heart. Read the instructions for task three."
When they were left alone, Charles asked, "Shall we swap places?"
"It's quite comfortable here actually," Seb replied. "I'll stay being the unconscious one, I think."
Charles read through the article but kept it on hand. "Okay, I need to place my hands here..." He positioned them on Sebastian's chest. "Close your eyes. You're distracting me."
T'Lar caught sight of them and came stalking towards them. "Use the dummy. You could cause a fatal injury if you do this on a living individual."
"Yes, Sir," Charles said quickly. "Sorry, Sir." He went over to the storage container for the CPR dummies and then came back empty-handed. "There aren't any left."
T'Lar considered.
"We could try mouth-to-mouth," Seb whispered to Charles, who blushed.
He cleared his throat. "Perhaps, Sir, we could just pretend to do CPR, so that we can work on the rhythm, if not the pressure."
The Vulcan nodded slowly. "That is acceptable. Carry on."
Then the bell sounded. Charles moaned and pulled Sebastian up.
"Average performance, class," the Vulcan teacher observed, his eyes and his face neutral and dull.
"Come on, let's try and find Data. I think he has a free period next," Seb offered.
"As do I, but you've got Engineering next," Charles reminded him.
Seb grinned. "I know."
"Seb, you can't miss a lesson," Charles said seriously.
"You're right. I'll see you later?"
Charles smiled. "Sure."
So they parted ways; Seb went to attend his engineering lecture and Charles went on his hunt for Data.
"Good afternoon, Charles," Data greeted his returning roommate.
"Hey, Data," Charles said, wondering what Data was doing.
"Have you come to accomplish some further studying? the android asked.
Charles shook his head. "Sounds like a good idea. How was Engineering?"
"Highly interesting. I trust your First Aid course was equally empowering?" Data inquired.
Charles made a face. "I can't deny that I learnt something but the lecturer was about as enthusiastic as a peeled potato."
Data followed the simile.
Charles pulled up a chair beside Data and got out some work to do. It wasn't long into it when he found himself sighing and groaning and frowning.
"Are you in pain?" Data asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
"What? No," Charles replied quickly. "It's just... ugh, I can't do this."
"Perhaps I can offer assistance," Data suggested.
Charles handed him the padd and Data studied it for less than half a second. "You forgot to carry the two."
Charles took the tablet back. "I did?"
"Indeed," Data confirmed. "Kardashev's constant must include all of the factors."
"Thanks, Data," Charles said, fixing his equation.
When the two of them had finished their work for the day, Data and Charles returned to their quarters.
Charles got changed, brushed his teeth, washed, then sauntered over to his bed and closed his eyes almost instantly.
"Charles?" Data started.
He moaned and opened an eye. "Yes?"
"Why are you not visiting Cadet Richards?"
"Seb? What sort of a question is that?"
Data noted Charles' tight tone. "I apologise if I have caused offence."
Charles sighed and moved to lie on his back. "Nah... You worked out where I was last night?"
"After a careful analysis of the evidence," Data added.
"What evidence? Actually, never mind."
"What was the answer to my question?" Data asked.
Charles breathed through his lips. "I don't know how to explain it to you, Data. Good night."