"I'll see you later," Charles called as he opened the door to their dorm room.

Data gave him a curt, acknowledging nod. "I trust that you will have an agreeable time."

Charles smiled wryly. "Yeah, thanks. Hey, Data, what will you be doing today?"

"I need to run a self-diagnostic," the android replied genially.

"You don't need any help?" Charles asked. "I mean, I know it's a self-diagnostic, but, how does it work?"

Data tried to explain it in simple terms. "I need only to connect my neural net to the Academy's main computer system, whereupon I will utilise the power supply and reimburse my systems and thus allow for the detection of any anomalies."

Charles frowned slightly. "And you've asked if this is... okay?"

Data nodded calmly. "Of course. I have confronted the appropriate powers."

"All right then, I'll leave you to it," Charles decided. "See you later."

The door slid closed and Charles went to attend his lesson, catching up with his sister on the way.

"I can't believe you're still reading that," he chided.

She looked up at him, then down at her book. "Why? It's a good book."

"I mean, why can't you just download them like everyone else?" Charles reiterated, trying to guide her through the busy hallways, for Lara could not see where she was going due to being engrossed in her book.

She sighed and closed her book. "Because sometimes it's nice to actually hold, to feel, a book. I mean, you and Jack still play those... what are they called?"

He smiled at her naïveté. "Arcade machines?"

"Yes." She nodded. "They're centuries old and awfully outdated."

"I know, but they're cool," he defended.

"Why don't you just download them?" she said, mimicking his voice.

He shrugged. "Point taken. You win."

"Anyway, how's it going?"

He noted her mischievous expression. "Fine," he said shortly.

She elbowed him playfully. "Come on, Charles." She looked at him pointedly.

He harrumphed. "Yes, yes. Seb's good, too." He cleared his throat. "Now, we'll be late if we don't hurry up."

Data, meanwhile, was starting to wire himself up to the Academy's back up mainframe. He had previously undergone a thorough check of the Academy's. He went through his checklist. The two systems were compatible and his neural net could handle the high energy wave transmissions from the mainframe.

He used the bathroom mirror to see what he was doing, as the service hatch was located in the back of his head. It would be the first time that he would perform a self-diagnostic; other people always did it for him.

He did not feel nervous; he could not. But he experienced the influx of power in his neural net telling him that he needed to make sure that his diagnostic was perfect.

When at last he had finished setting everything up and was satisfied that all would be well, he sat down. He could not risk standing up because an automatic shut down would make him collapse and enter sleep mode if there was a power overload.

"Wake up," Charles hissed.

Joelblinked and lifted his head up off of his shoulders, aware that he had been drooling on the table. "I am awake."

Charles rolled his eyes. "You are now."

Joelmoaned and rubbed his eyes. "When will this lesson be over?"

"Not everyone gets to join Starfleet Academy," Charles said seriously.

"Then they're lucky," Joelmuttered.

"Come on," Charles said. "Planetary sociology is great."

"No it's not," Joelargued.

Charles sighed and shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"Anyway, how's your sister?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Lara interrupted.

Jowllooked behind him and saw Lara. He blushed.

"This week will see your first examination on Planetary Sociology," their professor was saying. "There are those of you who have performed exceptionally well in this class who will have a greater chance of being chosen for an exciting new opportunity that Headquarters have posted."

Charles leant forward, utterly intrigued.

"However, the details of this such opportunity will only be revealed to those of you whom we are certain will be going on the excursion," the professor continued.

Charles moaned. He would have to wait.

"This is so exciting, don't you think?" He turned to Joel.

He looked indifferent. "I don't like the sound of it."

"You don't know what it is yet," Charles pointed out.

"Whatever it is, it sounds dangerous."

Charles nodded. "Which means exciting," he defended himself.

Back in the dormitory, Data was halfway through his diagnosis. His eyelids were closed but his eyes were moving rapidly from side to side. His neural net was processing hundreds of billions of bits of information every second.

The process was mundane and repetitive, not that it fazed him. But his human side was soon brought out of reverie.

He heard a noise, his connection to the Academy computer mainframe was instantly stopped. His internal sensors glared warnings to him.

He turned the master alarm off and began to recognise the issue.

He narrowed his eyes, widened the bandwidth of his scanning.

"Foreign transmission detected."

Data struggled to locate the source of the warning. At last he succeeded.

His eyes still closed, he found himself confronted with a computer-generated map. A map of the Academy grounds. He recognised it instantaneously.

He considered rerouting the display from virtual to the computer console in the quarters but the risk factor outweighed the efficiency that it would bring.

The map was zoomed in on. Data recorded the route and the designation. Sector fourteen, floor two, room three.

"Relay foreign transmission?" his system asked him.

Data gave the order and a few moments of static were followed by a crude-sounding, fuzzy voice.

Data did not recognise the voice, but easily noted it as being that of an adult male. The lack of inflection and forced pronunciation told him that it was human.

"Lekar."

"What can we do for you, Chancellor?"

"Discard the pleasantries, Proconsul. I don't like you and you don't like me."

A laugh came from one end of the conversation. "You say that, yet you ask for my help yet again."

The other speaker groaned and seemed to hold back a swear. "This is the last time. You don't command me."

"I think I do,"came the sly reply.

"Let's get this straight." He now sounded infuriated. "What I have told you is for your ears only."

"We shall see. It was your choice to betray your people."

"Keep quiet, Lekar. You stand to gain no end as well."

"As I have said, we shall see."

Then the line went dead.

Data tried to comprehend the situation. He cocked his head to one side, the cogs turning in his head.

Then he heard another noise. He started. But he registered it as being the door key being entered.

"What's wrong, Data?" Seb asked as he stepped in.

Data's face displayed slight confusion. "Nothing is wrong, Sebastian," he replied simply. "Androids cannot experience emotions."

Seb nodded after a while. "I know that. You just seemed... caught out. Don't you think, Charles?"

Charles, who had been looking over Seb's shoulder, cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah, what is it, Data?"

"I would appreciate it if you two could shut the door and fully enter the room," Data said.

When they had done so, Data began to tell them what had happened.

"You aren't pulling my leg?" Charles pressed.

Data registered the euphemism, then nodded. "No. This is sincere."

"Christ," Seb exclaimed. "Can't we hear it?"

"I do not think that that would be wise," Data replied.

"I understand," Charles said quietly. "What are you going to do?"

"I have considered numerous choices," Data replied. "I do not think it wise to bring the matter forward to the powers that be."

"Neither," Seb added. "God, I just can't believe they'd do this. It's disgusting."

"I know," Charles agreed, shaking his head. "What will we do?"

"I think it would be best if you do not disclose this information to anyone else," Data said.

They both nodded sincerely.

"Charles?" a voice called over the commpanel. "It's Lara."

"Oh shit," Seb mouthed.

Charles looked over to Data. "Should I let her in?"

"To not do so would be a breach of social etiquette."

"If you say so." He opened the door.

"What's going on here?" Lara asked, being instantly hit with the sombre atmosphere in the room.

So Data told her.

Her hands to her mouth, she gasped. "Never," she mouthed.

"It is true," Data said genially.

"What will we do?" she asked all three of them.

"Beats me," Charles admitted.

"You remember what Professor Morten was talking about?" Seb turned to him.

"No," Charles said honestly; he had been listening about as attentively as Joel had been. "Oh, that."

"Oh, what?" Lara asked.

"About the Planetary Sociology examination," he explained.

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't think that can help."

"Perhaps it would put us in good stead if we do need to bring this to the authorities," Charles reasoned.

"Perhaps," Seb said slowly.

"Then we had better get revising," Charles said, with a slap of his thigh.

"I'm going to go back to my quarters, I think," Lara said, getting up.

"Why?" Charles followed her to the door.

"I don't want to cramp your style," she said with a smile, nodding to him and Seb.

When she had gone, when the door had closed, Charles retrieved a mountain of textbooks, his padd and signalled for Seb and Data to join him at the console.

"It's a bit late," Seb moaned.

"Twenty-onehundred is not late," Charles quipped.

"When is this exam anyway?" Seb asked.

"Two days from now."

"Charles, revising at such late notice is not an agreeable method of retaining information," Data commented.

"I got through school that way," Charles reasoned.

The day of the exam came and Charles surprised himself by getting up bright and early. He had set his alarm for half an hour earlier than usual. He neglected to have a thorough shower, instead opting for a quick wash. Having brushed his teeth and combed his tangled, wet hair, he went with Data out of the door.

"It would be advisable if you were to eat," Data said to him cautiously.

"I can't afford to eat," Charles replied simply. "I don't have time. Besides, I'm not hungry. Not much, anyway."

"Regardless, Charles-" Data began.

Charles cut him off. "The queue in the canteen will be longer than Nessie's neck and we can't afford to be late."

"Nessie?" Data repeated, obviously confused. "Who is Nessie?"

"The Scottish... Nevermind." He sighed. "Come on. Room fourteen." He sped up his pace and Data easily matched it.

The room was sheer silence. There were desks arranged in uniform columns and rows. Each had a computer console wired up to it and a chair behind it.

They had to look at a digital display on the wall nearest the door, which told them where they would sit.

"Oh brilliant," Charles groaned. "Hendricks had to be the same row as me, didn't he?"

"It would have been expected," Data said. "What with your surname beginning with G and his beginning with H."

Charles nodded. "Uh huh." He held out his hand and Data hesitated before shaking it. "Good luck."

"Luck will not..." He faded off. "To you too."

Charles gave him a wry smile, then they went to their seats.

The examination was not invigilated but governed by many a security camera and artificial intelligence.

Charles donned his headphones like all the other cadets and breathed in and out deeply.

He entered his details then read the first question. He flew through the first few problems but the paper soon caught up with him. He rubbed his temples and sighed.

Name three measures that should be taken when an away team transports down to an alien planet, and discuss the advantages and disadvantages of each measure.

Which crewmembers should form the away team? Why should the captain not accompany the away team if possible?

He bit his lip. He had the first two sorted but the third was evading him.

He resisted the temptation to look around the room.

"Come on, Charles," he whispered to himself. He decided to give up; he could always come back to the question. He did. His strategy had worked.

Fourhours, sixessays and a lot of stress later and the examination was over.

Charles was one of the first to leave the exam hall owing to his surname. Data exited before him and the two of them convened in the hallway outside the exam hall.

"I'll catch you up, Data," he said when Data decided to return to his quarters.

Charles craned his neck over the sea of people exiting the hall. He caught sight of a blond blur and called, "Seb! How was it?"

Seb sighed and ran his fingers through his hair; he made a face. "Not great."

Charles' smile faded. "Oh. Really?"

He nodded. "I take it you found it went well?"

Charles didn't want to eclipse Seb's mood but couldn't lie either. "I suppose so. But, come on, maybe you did better than you think." He clapped a hand to his back.

Seb smiled half-heartedly. "Thanks."

"Lara, how did it go?" Charles called to his sister.

She made a face. "So so, I guess."

"Here, why don't we go to the mess hall?" Charles suggested, hoping to brighten both Seb's and Lara's moods.

They both nodded. "Sure," Seb agreed.

Lara smiled. "Sounds good."