Stardate 41260.7

"I am sorry, Tasha," Worf said apologetically.

She waved him off.

She knew he felt horrible. He hadn't meant it maliciously. She'd already tried to tell him not to worry about it nearly a dozen times between the holodeck and Sickbay.

The pair stepped into Sickbay where they found Doctor Crusher was chatting with Nurse Ogawa. Her back was to the door. Nurse Ogawa spotted the pair first.

"Oh," she said, her face showing concern as she noticed the bloody flannel Tasha was holding against her face.

Doctor Crusher spun around.

"You two? Again?" Doctor Crusher said with a hint of displeasure as she eyed the pair.

They were frequent flyers in her Sickbay, and she'd warned them more than enough times to take it easy on the holodeck.

"Was it sparring or Parrises Squares?" Beverly asked as she guided them to an exam table.

Tasha shook her head.

Worf mumbled something quietly.

"What was that?" Doctor Crusher asked.

He cleared his throat and glanced side to side to ensure he was out of earshot of the other medical personnel.

"Skating," Worf said quickly.

"Twee to da face. My fault," Tasha said thickly, muffled by the flannel she had pressed over her nose and mouth.

"You will require this," Worf said to the Doctor.

Worf handed her a canteen and Doctor Crusher looked at him sceptically.

"I don't understand," Beverly said as she looked at the canteen.

It appeared to be Tasha's water bottle that she brought to all her workouts.

Tasha pulled the bloody flannel away from her face.

"I told you to keep your jaw tight," Worf growled.

Tasha opened her mouth to show Beverly the damage. If she was shocked by the injury, she didn't let it show.

"I'm tired of seeing the two of you in this Sickbay because of these extreme sports," Beverly stated.

She put her tricorder back in the pocket of her signature blue medical jacket and picked up the canteen.

"They're in here? As in all of them? You counted?" she asked them. "You didn't swallow any?"

Tasha nodded.

"She means they are all there," Worf clarified. "We counted this time."

"Alright," Beverly said with a short nod. "I'll be back in a few moments, and we can begin. This will help with the pain."

She gave Tasha a hypospray and regretted that she had failed to do so sooner. She should have done it straightaway, but she'd let her feelings get in the way of her professionalism.

Beverly had meant every word of what she had said to the pair. She was absolutely sick of seeing them wander into her Sickbay after a holodeck workout injury. The sprains, concussions, and broken bones were getting to be all too frequent.

Although the likes of sparring, boxing, and Parrises squares were some of their favourite holodeck pursuits, the pair also shared a mutual interest in winter sports. Worf had introduced Tasha to everything from alpine skiing and snowshoeing to the likes of ice hockey, curling, and figure skating.

Growing up on Turkana, Tasha had never seen the likes of snow and ice until joining Starfleet. Much of Worf's childhood had been spent in Minsk engaged in many of the winter sports of the area.

She was particularly fond of skating which she had found to be surprisingly physically challenging and dangerous. As much as she knew it pained Doctor Crusher and confused her friends, Tasha genuinely enjoyed the thrill of dangerous sports.

For the last few months, the two had been meeting discreetly on the holodeck to practise. Each Friday they got together in her quarters to watch historical records of the sport – evaluating the performances and identifying routines they thought they could replicate.

Tasha had picked up on the basics quickly – gliding effortlessly and mastering figure eights, swizzles, and crossovers with ease. She'd proven capable of holding her own on the ice. Spirals were simple. Camel spins came easy. And she'd taken to lifts naturally.

Most recently, they had managed to successfully pull off both forward and backward inside death spirals and Tasha had been eager to incorporate a more challenging exit.

"Again, not your fault," Tasha assured him.

No, this had been entirely her doing. He'd warned her not to overestimate her abilities.

But no, stubborn and feeling invincible, she had insisted.

Getting into the death spiral itself was simple enough. They'd done it dozens of times, but Worf had cautioned that he did not believe her plan to exit with a throw jump was practical.

He'd been proven right. She'd come out with too much momentum. When he launched her into the triple throw lutz, there was far too much energy behind it. She had spun more than anticipated and hadn't been able to control her landing – gliding dangerously fast into a tree on the holodeck.

"I should not have let go," Worf replied.

Tasha shook her head. She knew he was going to dwell on it, and she felt horrible for pushing him.

A moment later, the doors to Sickbay opened and Chief O'Brien came in supported by Data and Geordi.

"Doc, we had an accident," Geordi called out. "Chief's got some pretty severe plasma burns."

Nurse Ogawa, Doctor Selar, and Doctor Crusher came rushing out of her office to evaluate the damage.

"Get him over to the third exam table, hydrocortilene for the pain and begin a nerve assessment," Doctor Crusher ordered. "Lieutenant Selar, get the dermal regenerator."

Data spotted Tasha and Worf. He stopped and cocked his head to the side as he processed that she had been injured.

She motioned her head in the direction of exam bed three, indicating to him that he should focus on the Chief at the moment.

He nodded in understanding and helped see the Chief to the bed.

"Keiko will have my head if she finds out I got burned again," he said in a low voice. "Second time this month."

"We'll you're lucky the damage isn't too severe," Nurse Ogawa said with a wry smile. "Your secret is safe with us."

"I will not mention it, if that is your wish," Data stated. "But I do believe Keiko's response is out of concern for your wellbeing and not anger."

Data suspected he knew exactly how Keiko felt.

He took a quick glance in Tasha's direction.

"I'll be fine," Miles said as he watched Data. "Why don't you two go see to her."

"I'll be back in a moment, Chief," Geordi said before he and Data stepped away to see what the scoop was with Tasha and Worf.

"Tasha?" Data asked as he approached them. "Are you injured?"

"No, Data," Geordi said. "She just wanted to see Doctor Crusher."

Data looked back at Geordi with a frown.

"I do not believe this an appropriate time for sarcasm, Geordi," Data said.

"I'm sorry, Data," Geordi replied. "You're right. You alright, T?"

She still had the bloody flannel over her mouth, but Geordi could tell from the way her shoulders were shaking that she was laughing underneath it.

"There was an incident on the holodeck," Worf explained.

"What has occurred?" Data inquired.

Tasha pulled the flannel away from her mouth and smiled.

Well, smiled as best she could.

"Tasha, where are your teeth?" Data asked, concerned.

It was evident her nose was broken. More concerning, her teeth were gone. Data could see the central and lateral incisors on both the top and bottom row of her mouth appeared to be missing.

"Do you still sssink I'm pwetty?" Tasha asked, the corner of her mouth curling upward.

Geordi put his hand over his mouth as he tried to suppress a laugh at her inability to properly form the 'th' sound without her front teeth.

"I do not see how this is amusing," Data said.

She took hold of his hand and gave it a small squeeze.

"Laugh or cwy," Tasha shrugged.

Data cocked his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her statement.

"I think what Tasha's getting at is you can choose to respond by taking it in stride or being sad," Geordi said.

"Sometimes I do not think you grasp the fragile nature of your biological composition," Data said.

While the sentence structure was certainly more formal than typically human, he sounded more like a worried mother than a sentient android.


A few hours later, Data and Tasha were seated in his quarters. The broken nose had only taken minutes to repair. But it had taken Beverly some time to reattach the teeth to the root and Tasha had been forced in Sickbay with a dental regenerator clamped onto her mouth for an hour before Beverly had cleared her to leave.

She'd sent her packing with a gel for the pain and a warning that she didn't want to see her back in Sickbay again for another sports injury for at least a month.

Data had asked if she would like to stay in his quarters for the night – he didn't have night watch and she suspected he was still slightly miffed.

He was busy at his workstation, and she was seated on his sofa. Although she was off duty, her mind was consumed with their upcoming mission with an engineer named Kosinski and his mysterious travel companion.

Kosinski claimed to have a special method that could boost the speed of starships – though everyone that had reviewed it found it to be complete gibberish.

The Security Chief of the USS Fearless had sent over everything they had gathered along with a personal note including his observations of the pair. It seemed Kosinski was arrogant, overly confident, and was easily flustered if his methods were questioned.

In contrast, his peculiar companion known as the Traveller was polite, curious, and had been genuinely well-liked by the crew.

Tasha didn't have the advanced theoretical understanding of warp mechanics – that was Data and Geordi's forte- but she had a firm grasp of the basics. She'd served as helmsman long enough to understand propulsion systems to a fair degree and her security training had included plenty of background to give her a decent picture of the framework.

From her perspective, Kosinski's method seemed like fantasy.

She got and walked over to Data.

"Data, would you take a look at this?" she asked as she handed him her PADD.

He scanned the contents briefly and looked back at her scowling.

"Where did you obtain this?" he questioned.

"It's rubbish, isn't it?" Tasha replied.

"These formulas are not any known formula that I have ever seen," Data said. "And I do not believe they would be successful in a practical application."

"Data, this is Kosinski's experiment," she said as she pointed to the PADD.

Data scrolled through the schematic again as he analysed the information.

"I do not see how the USS Ajax and USS Fearless could have achieved increased propulsion with this method," Data said. "As you would say, completely bogus."

She grinned at his use of slang.

However, his confirmation of her suspicions only created more questions. If Kosinski's experiment was truly nothing, then what was he really doing on the Enterprise?

Sabotage? Disruption?

He could be tracking them in some way, or a Romulan plant.

Tasha's mind raced as she tried to theorise what Kosinski's true intentions were.

"Data, I need your help," Tasha told him.

She explained that she wanted him to help her find out exactly what Kosinski was up to.

"Everything I see here indicates these are nothing more than gibberish," Tasha explained. "I don't see anything here that could harm the Enterprise. But I'd still like you and Geordi to check it out. This is really more your area of expertise."

Data nodded in understanding and informed her that he and Geordi would run it through the computer and perform a series of simulations.

"If you do find anything that could be harmful, I want to know about it right away," she said. "I don't know what Kosinski is up to, and I'm worried it could be a security risk."

Data tapped his combadge.

"Data to Lieutenant La Forge," he said.

"Here, Data," Geordi responded. "What's going on?"

"Could you meet in the Engineering diagnostic lab tomorrow at 08:00?" Data inquired. "We need to take a look at this upcoming propulsion test."

"Of course, Data," Geordi acknowledged. "I'll see you then."

Tasha frowned.

She was excited and she wanted to chase down this lead.

"We are not due to rendezvous with the Fearless for another four days, nine hours, and seventeen minutes," Data explained.

"I know," she replied glumly. "I'm just kind of in the zone. You know? I feel like we're on to something here and it's kind of exciting to be chasing a mystery."

"Cool it Sherlock," he teased as he pulled her onto his lap.

"Fine," she said begrudgingly. "Maybe I can see – a little – how you managed to get carried away with the Anticans."

"As much as I find your dedication to your work one of the most alluring facets of your personality, it is now time for rest," Data said before kissing her.

Tasha hissed. He pulled away and she rubbed her jaw. Her mouth was still pretty sensitive from earlier.

"Still a little tender," she explained.

"How fortunate the human body contains thirty-one erogenous zones," Data replied with a cheeky look.

Tasha looked dumbstruck, impressed at the way in which he managed to blend his typical android speech patterns with playful expressions.

He was a long way from mastering humour, but Tasha knew he could be surprisingly witty.

"I believe I could limit myself to working with the other thirty," he went on before he kissed the inside of her wrist.

Data nuzzled against her neck and Tasha let herself melt into his embrace.

"I do wish that I could kiss your lips, my dear," Data growled. "But it is my luck that your neck is so lovely."

Tasha giggled.

Data's hands found the clasp of her jumpsuit. He unzipped the top and pulled it down to expose her more skin.

"And that you are so kissable," Data went on as he nipped at the swell of her chest.

Data pulled her tight against him as he buried his face between her breasts.

"Data," she murmured.

He stopped.

Clutching the back of her head, Tasha could feel his breath against her ear.

"I believe you were instructed not to overwork your jaw," Data reminded her.

He pressed a tender kiss to the side of her face.

"Please relax and let me relish in the fact the rest of you is not broken," Data teased.

"Data," Tasha protested.

"Shhh, I will take good care of your body," Data assured her.

"Of that I have no doubt," Tasha replied.

She let her head fall back as his hands worked their way up her spine.

Data's mouth was hot as it worked its way down her neck and over her clavicle, nibbling until he found his destination.

He grinned as he felt her nipple go hard in his mouth, swirling his tongue in the way that made her cunt weep for him.

It was hard at their current angle because Data had to consistently remind himself to be mindful of her swollen jawline – despite how much he longed to capture her lips.

Tasha could feel he was hard. She rolled her hips in his lap, begging him get on with it.

"Data, please," Tasha said as she twisted her fingers into his hair.

He stopped and looked up at her.

"Data?" Tasha asked.

He was staring back at her with such intensity that it made Tasha feel small.

"Now that you have your teeth back, I am going to make you smile," Data promised.

His voice was low and commanding. It was the kind of voice Tasha had heard him use on occasion – both on the Bridge and in the bedroom.

It made her tingle with anticipation.

Data stood and laid her back onto the surface of his workstation.

It was rare for Data to be so forward and dominant, but it wasn't unpleasant. In fact, Tasha relished in the opportunity to put herself in his hands.

He was so sweet and tender. It never ceased to surprise Tasha how he could so easily transform from the affectionate, somewhat awkward android into this assertive, fiery bundle of raw sexual energy.

Tasha waited with heavy anticipation as he pulled down her uniform, his lips welcoming each new inch of flesh. The cool surface of the workstation felt wonderful as Data took his time caressing the body he wanted to devour.

Tasha closed her eyes and sighed in contentment as Data kissed the inside of her knee.

He was back in a second later, having stripped away his own uniform in the process. All trace of the shy, affectionate Data was gone.

Rather, this was Lieutenant Commander Data and all the artificial testosterone and lean musculature that made Tasha swoon.

To her delight, Data scooped her up.

In a flash, Tasha found her back against the wall. Data's left hand slipped under thigh, guiding her to wrap her legs around his waist.

"I am going to make you smile," Data repeated, echoing his previous promise as he buried his face in her chest.

He may not have been able to kiss her lips, but he could feel the rest of her – and Data was desperate to distract his mouth with something.

Tasha inhaled sharply as she felt a delicious, familiar pressure as he slipped inside.

She clutched Data's back as he began to pump into her, losing himself in the feel of being joined so intimately.

It was a call back to the first time they had made love, and one they were both keen to repeat.

"Are you smiling?" Data asked.

"Uh huh," Tasha squeaked.

He didn't need to peek to see that she was – there was ample evidence to support such a conclusion. She was panting, clenching around him, hungry for the stretch.

Tasha's fingers twisted into the hair at the nape of his neck as he managed to elicit the softest, sweetest little noises from her mouth.

Data gripped her arse. It fit so perfectly in his hands. While he longed to be human, this was one situation in which Data was grateful for his android construction.

His unusually long arms and large hands (complete with advanced sensors) allowed him to truly appreciate one of his favourite assets in a way no humanoid could.

Using the wall and his torso as leverage, he pulled her against him. Data's bony hips snapped against her thighs as he drove into her.

Tasha knew there would be bruises in the morning.

She whimpered.

Data immediately slowed his pace.

"Data?" Tasha panted.

"Are you alright?" Data asked.

In an instant, Data with all his gentle affection and tender-hearted concern was back. He was mindful that her organic construction was quite delicate in comparison to his own body.

His pace was languid, enough to step back without losing the moment.

Data placed a trail of soft kisses across her shoulder and up the side of her neck, stopping just below her ear.

"Is that what you want?" Data whispered.

"I don't want your gentleness," Tasha pleaded.

Data's neural net surged.

Tasha squeezed her legs around his waist. The heel of her foot dug into the smooth bioplast of his arse, spurring him on.

"Please, Data," Tasha groaned. "Take me."

Data gave her a particularly powerful thrust as he tightened his grip on her arse.

"Is this what you want?" Data asked, changing the inflection.

Tasha let her head fall back against the wall.

She groaned as he repeated the action for her pleasure.

All of sudden, he pulled out.

Tasha was about to protest when she felt him rub the length of his cock against her clit, teasing her by dangling what she wanted just out of reach.

A small whine fell from her lips as she squirmed against him. But it was to no avail. Data's strength left him at a distinct advantage – if he wanted to hold her there without any hope of relief, then he could do so for as long as he pleased.

Tasha couldn't deny that it felt good.

But she wanted more.

The friction was slowly pushing her toward orgasm.

"Data," Tasha snivelled.

"Yes, darling?" he asked.

"Fuck me, Data," Tasha begged.

"Is this unsatisfactory?" he inquired.

He could be infuriatingly analytical. It was intentional, all a part of his game to taunt her. They both knew it.

And it drove Tasha wild.

Data pulled back far enough to watch her expression.

Her eyes were closed. She was panting and squirming, trying like hell to rock against him. She was desperate for more friction.

And to his delight, she wasn't just smiling.

She was beaming.

Flashing one of those million-watt smiles that were just for him.

Tasha felt like she was being watched.

Her eyes fluttered open to find Data staring at her, observing every reaction and recording them to memory.

"What?" Tasha asked.

"I am making a memory," Data confessed.

Tasha froze, unsure of how to respond. Whenever he said things like that, it only served to make her feel both simultaneously aroused and bashful.

"I could watch you in ecstasy for eternity," Data told her.

Tasha grinned.

Bearing in mind her recent injury, he placed a very small, soft kiss on her lips.

"You always take such good care of me," Tasha remarked.

"I assure you that is my intention," Data said in a low voice.

Wordlessly, he guided her to lay her head on his shoulder.

She keened with satisfaction as he slipped back inside of her.

With one hand on her lower back and the other resting on the back of her head, Data began to bounce her on his cock.

"This is what you wanted, is it not?" he asked.

Tasha whimpered, unable to properly form words as the tempo kicked up.

"Lieutenant?" Data prompted, taking no small sense of satisfaction in using her rank.

While they had a mutual understanding of separating their duties from their relationship, there was something scintillating and forbidden about using their ranks in the bedroom.

"Do not deny it. You are wet," Data said.

"For…ah…you, Commander," Tasha managed to choke out.

"So we for me," Data cooed.

"Yes, Commander," Tasha responded.

Tasha smirked against his shoulder as she felt Data shudder as she clenched around him. His rhythm became erratic. Data groaned as he spilled himself.

Still buried deep inside of Tasha, Data pressed her back against the wall. He slipped his hand between them, working it down between her thighs until he found his destination.

Data began to thrust into her again as his thumb rubbed against her swollen clit.

Tasha was certain that if he wasn't supporting her weight she would not have been capable of standing on her own. Her legs were trembling as Tasha clung to him for something – anything – to stay grounded.

"I love you," Data whispered.

Ever since their trip to Edo planet, such a phrase had entered their sex life and it made Tasha feel warm in places she hadn't previously known to exist every time it fell from his lips.

After a shower, the two settled into bed with one another.

"I told you I would make you smile," Data said as he spooned up next to her.

"You always make me smile," Tasha replied.


Stardate 41264.3

Their fears about Kosinski's methods turned out to be unfounded. Not only had Kosinski's method worked – it had sent clear out of their own galaxy. According to Data's readings, the Enterprise was now in a distant galaxy known as M Thirty-Three.

"That's not possible," Picard declared. "Data, what distance have we travelled?"

"Two million seven hundred thousand light years," Data said solemnly.

"I calculate that at maximum warp it will take over three hundred years to get home," Geordi added.

Two million seven hundred thousand light years.

Three hundred years.

It was a time and distance so large that Tasha found it incomprehensible.

To her and everyone else on board, the difference between one million and two million lightyears was inconsequential.

They would never get home – except perhaps Data.

There were no appropriate words to explain the dire nature of their situation.

While the crew had taken the news in a dignified manner, everyone was still on edge. Having grown up in a world of scarcity, Tasha was keenly aware how dire circumstances and rationing could easily force even the most civilised people to choose violence.

At Data's suggestion, they had begun a ship-wide effort to conserve power and resources.

While everyone was doing their best to keep a stiff upper lip, there was fear present on every deck of the ship, and it was evident everyone was dealing with it in their own way.

Some refused to talk about it, pouring themselves back into their work. For others, it was the only thing they could focus on.

Tasha and Data both collectively felt a sense of guilt over the fact they weren't as worked up as the rest of the crew. Sure, they had friends back home. But neither of them had a family to miss them.

They weren't concerned about never seeing a lover or child again.

They still had no idea what could have caused the rapid acceleration that sent them moving at a speed that was both illogical and improbable.

Data and Geordi were struggling to explain just how the ship was able to travel so fast without ripping herself apart.

Worst of all, the statements about Kosinski's abrasive personality were highly underrated in the crews' opinion. He was brash and condescending and seemed utterly unhelpful in their attempts to find a solution to the problem.

In order to rule out any evidence of tampering, the Operations team was sending security and engineering teams to sweep the length of the ship.

That afternoon, Worf and Tasha met Data, Geordi, and their joint security and engineering team inside Main Engineering.

To her disappointment, her Security Office had sent the beta shift boys. Ensigns Walsh, Gomez, and Jeffords were standing with Lieutenant Harris against the wall.

Data explained that they would break off into groups to conduct a full sweep of the area along with the subcommand panels located in the Jefferies tubes.

"Ensign Gomez," Geordi said.

"Yes?" two voices responded simultaneously as both Ensign Armando Gomez, from security, and Sonya Gomez, from operations stepped forward.

"Sorry," Geordi said with a smile. "Ensign Sonya Gomez. I want you to stay here with me and work on the main computer sweep."

Sonya Gomez was a relatively new addition to the Enterprise, but she had quickly proven herself to be a competent engineer. In many ways, she reminded Geordi of a younger version of himself.

"Alright, you all know what to look for," Geordi instructed. "Partner off and we meet back here in one hour. If you find anything alert Lieutenant Yar, Commander Data, and me immediately."

"Would you like to slip into a Jefferies tube with me?" Ensign Walsh said to Ensign Greene, a blonde engineering officer he'd seen a handful of times.

"Ah, you're with me," Tasha said, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

Walsh cleared his throat.

"Yes, sir," he responded uncomfortably.

She led him to Jefferies tube 9B.

"Should I be reading something into the fact you picked me?" Walsh asked.

"Only that I don't trust you," Tasha replied honestly as she handed him a phaser.

His face fell.

"C'mon Lieutenant," Walsh replied. "I would have been on my best behaviour."

If it were up to Tasha, she'd have booted Walsh out of her security team months ago. He was brash, arrogant, and hardly fit to serve in her opinion. She'd tried – several times – to have him reassigned.

Unfortunately, he was the grandson of none other than Fleet Admiral Josiah Walsh and Starfleet had continually denied her efforts to hold him accountable for his behaviour.

Captain Picard was aware of the situation and the two had tried to the best of their abilities to hold him accountable on their own without running afoul of Starfleet. He'd spent time on report and in the brig for his actions and was often assigned jobs that kept him away from others.

They climbed inside and crawled along the tube, scanning each panel and junction.

"If you wanted to get me alone in a Jefferies tube, you could have just asked," Walsh teased.

Tasha stopped. She closed her eyes for a moment while she gathered her composure.

"Ensign, we're in the middle of an emergency thousands of lightyears from home," Tasha replied as she tried to keep her voice calm. "It's on Security and Engineering to find what happened and fix it. You're a part of that team."

She sat back against the panel.

"Everyone on this ship is depending on us to get them home," Tasha added soberly.

"It was just a joke, Lieutenant," Walsh replied.

"This is an emergency, Walsh," Tasha said.

"Yeah, I know. I heard the announcement," Walsh snapped.

She wanted to send him back to his quarters. She didn't have time to deal with the likes of Walsh during this situation. In her eyes, he was an overgrown bratty child.

But she knew it would take twice as long to conduct the scan on her own. And given their precarious position, every second counted.

"Unless you spot an anomaly or something dangerous you are to remain silent the rest of this assignment," Tasha stated. "That's an order."

Walsh nodded in understanding, and they continued on until they reached another junction.

Tasha stopped at the ladder and checked her map.

"We need to go up two levels and then continue our scan," Tasha advised. "It should drop us out near Ten Forward."

She started the climb and Walsh followed.

"Whoa," he said after a moment.

"Ensign Walsh, I ordered you-" she started to say but he cut her off.

"You ordered me to stay quiet unless I saw an anomaly or something dangerous," Walsh said seriously.

Tasha stopped climbing and looked back over her shoulder down at the Ensign.

His eyes were wide.

"What?" Tasha said.

"I saw something dangerous," Walsh said as he swallowed hard.

"What?" Tasha repeated.

She'd suspected he'd be like this in a real emergency – nothing more than a blithering idiot.

"Walsh?" Tasha prompted. "What did you see? What's dangerous?"

"Your arse," he replied with a wide smile.

He could see he'd really irked her.

She said nothing in response but continued to climb.

"Oh, c'mon sir," Walsh called up to her. "I was just trying to make you laugh. Lighten the mood a bit."

When he reached the top, he found her waiting for him. She was sitting a metre into the tube.

"Ensign Walsh, you have been warned numerous times to stop making statements about your fellow crew members. You have received several written warnings about unwelcome sexual advances and harassment. Furthermore, I have asked you not to comment about me or my body," Tasha said in a slow, level tone. "You will cease here and now, or you will be terminated as a Security officer."

Walsh's face contorted in disbelief.

"I use humour as a defence mechanism," Walsh said quickly.

Tasha eyed him sceptically.

"It's true, sir. I swear it! Ask Counsellor Troi," Walsh confessed. "I kid around when I'm scared. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't pretty afraid right now."

She didn't believe a word of it.

"Sir, when I say those things to you it's just because I'm trying to play it cool. I don't know how else to act when I'm frightened. It's all a joke," Walsh pleaded.

He shifted uncomfortably.

It didn't seem much like a joke – he'd made more than enough attempts to grab her with consent.

And joke or not, Tasha had made abundantly clear such advances were unwelcome.

"Well, mostly a joke. I mean, I do have a thing for blondes. That is to say, I-I think you're, well, I can see why the Commander's, you know," she could see he was struggling. "You're a fox and I mean that in the most respectful way, sir."

"Walsh, one can use humour as a defence mechanism without being a pig," Tasha said.

"I'm trying to pay you a compliment," Walsh countered in a softer voice.

He reached up to touch her face and Tasha recoiled.

"I bet underneath all this defensiveness and attitude that you're really just playing hard to get. You want me to chase you, don't you?" Walsh smirked.

"Ensign, please hand over your tricorder and phaser," Tasha said as she extended her hand.

Walsh looked scandalised.

"You can't do this!" he said angrily.

"Now, Ensign Walsh," Tasha replied calmly.

He gave her his tricorder and phaser.

"My grandfather is going to hear about this," Walsh warned her.

"I hope he does," Tasha replied in earnest.

She pocketed Walsh's tricorder and phaser and proceeded to continue down the tube.

For a few moments, they crawled in silence.

"You know most women on this ship would be grateful to have a guy like me pay attention to them," Walsh said, finding his voice again.

"I think you would be wise to remain silent," Tasha cautioned.

He was already in hot water; he didn't need to make the situation any worse.

"We're almost to the outlet near Ten Forward," Tasha advised. "A security detail will escort you to your quarters. You're confined to quarters until further notice."

Walsh scoffed.

"I think you should reconsider," Walsh said in a low voice.

Tasha did not respond. She wanted to get out of this tube and away from Walsh as quickly as she could.

"As I said, you do this and my grandfather will hear about it," Walsh exclaimed.

Tasha stopped.

"Your grandfather is over two million lightyears away," Tasha replied. "Starfleet won't receive our subspace communication for another fifty years if the outpost at Ritu IV is even still operational by then! I'm not scared of your grandfather, ensign."

Before she knew what was happening, he'd grabbed hold of her ankle. With a swift pull, she fell hard, her forehead smacking the metal floor of the tube and leaving her momentarily dazed.

He was at her in an instant. As they wrestled for control of the phaser in her hand, it dislodged and skidded across the tube landing a metre away and out of reach of either of them.

The gravity of her current predicament hit, and it took her a moment to control her breathing.

She had to stay in control. The situation was too familiar, too retraumatising.

Memories from another time and place weaselled their way into her mind as the images and sounds of her youth came to the forefront. She could smell the motor oil, the sweat.

She could taste the blood in her mouth.

Tasha's whole body stiffened as she braced herself for what was to come. She wanted to dissociate, to let her mind go blank and be as far away from his hands as possible.

She didn't want Walsh to see she was afraid, but she couldn't stomach the thought of his body pressed against her.

Tasha reminded herself she was on board the Enterprise. She was the Chief of Security.

And she wasn't a little girl anymore.

She may have been pinned down underneath the weight of the most unfit officer she'd ever had the displeasure to meet, but she was still the ship's sparring champion.

She tried for her combadge, but Walsh grabbed her wrist, twisting it painfully.

"You taught me that one," Walsh informed her.

He was eager to extract payback from when she'd incapacitated him with the same move in a turbolift months earlier.

She had made him feel small and inadequate during that encounter – and now he wanted revenge.

Walsh wanted her to feel just as helpless as he had. He wanted Tasha to fear him, to recognise that he held a position of power over her.

He wanted to see that look of fear in her face.

Tasha tried to control her breathing.

Walsh had assaulted her. This was no longer just harassment.

"You really are always getting hurt," Walsh said as he eyed the mark on her forehead. "We all know you've been to Sickbay nearly a dozen times in the last few months. We've got a betting pool on it. What we can't seem to figure out is do you like it rough or is it just a by-product of sleeping with a tin can?"

Tasha was gobsmacked.

"How did Harris describe it? Like when the blades of the gravity generator fall out of alignment and knock against their hull. Ka-chunk, ka-chunk, ka-chunk," Walsh said vulgarly.

Tasha wanted to vomit as he rolled his hips on top of her.

He laughed. She wanted to respond but she wasn't sure where to begin.

"I don't get you, Lieutenant," Walsh snarled after a moment. "You act all standoffish every time someone shows you attention, apparently with the exception of a walking bundle of circuitry. But Gomez has a friend on the Crazy Horse. Said you were insatiable. A real sex kitten. Couldn't get enough."

The sound of a soft sniffle brought Walsh out of his monologue.

"Awww, you're not so big and bad after all, are you? Don't worry, I'll take care of you," Walsh taunted.

She hadn't meant to cry in front of him, but there was too much emotion for Tasha to contain. She'd managed to remain calm up to this point, but his mention of her previous posting in such a grotesque manner hit a nerve.

Alfie.

"Don't be embarrassed. I heard all about your nicknames. I know you don't like to get attached. What did they call you on the Crazy Horse? Free sweep?" Walsh chuckled.

It was a horrible nickname started by a bitter ex from her days at Starfleet Academy. It had carried with her to the Crazy Horse. And it couldn't have been further from the truth.

"Well, your source is wrong," Tasha said as she felt her eyes well up. "I served on the Crazy Horse with my fiancé, until he was killed on an away mission."

Her intention hadn't been to throw Walsh off. She was simply overcome with emotion. The thought of demeaning dear, late Alfie and what they had shared was far too hurtful for Tasha to stay quiet.

Nonetheless, it worked.

Walsh's grip loosened and she exploited her moment.

Her fingers found the phaser she had taken from him a short time earlier and she fired.

Walsh slumped on top of her, incapacitated from the blast and she rested there a moment and she regained her composure.

She pulled herself out from underneath him, secured his hands with a restraint tie, and retrieved her phaser.

A second later, her combadge pinged.

"La Forge to Yar, I'm registering a phaser just went off in your section," Geordi said. "Everything alright?"

"Fine, Geordi," she responded. "Don't wait for me for the debrief. We didn't find anything in this section."

There was a brief pause.

"Tasha, are you OK?" Geordi asked.

"Yeah," Tasha replied quickly. "I'll see you in a few."

She wiped away the tears with her sleeve and fanned her face with her hand. She could explain away the red face from pulling Walsh through the tube, but she wouldn't be able to explain puffy eyes.

She gripped his forearm and pulled him to end of the tube.

When she reached the appropriate panel, she opened it and stepped in the corridor. Under the bright overhead lights and with the sounds of other officers in the distance, she felt a wave of relief.


"What do you think happened?" Ensign Tomat asked quietly as he spotted Lieutenant Yar rounding the corridor carrying a restrained and unconscious Walsh over her shoulder.

"I'm guessing his mouth finally landed him in hot water," Lieutenant Peterson replied.

She stopped in front of the security team that was stationed at Ten Forward and dropped him a little harder than necessary.

"Peterson, have two officers take Ensign Walsh to the brig," Tasha ordered.

"With pleasure, sir," Ensign Olivet said, stepping forward to volunteer.

Tasha knew Ensign Olivet had shared her own unpleasant experience with Walsh's unwelcome advances.

"Right away," Lieutenant Kalmati added, also volunteering.

Tasha nodded to the pair, grateful for their help.

"Sir, how long is Ensign Walsh to be confined for?" Peterson inquired.

"That has yet to be determined," Tasha replied honestly.


Back in Engineering, Data emerged from the upper level of the warp core where he had been conducting a detailed scan.

Teams were beginning to filter back into Engineering, and they were due to start their briefing soon on the results.

Thus far, no teams had found any anomalies.

Data could see that Geordi looked concerned.

"Did you find something, Geordi?" Data inquired.

"No," Geordi said, shaking his head in frustration. "Nothing unusual."

"What about the phaser sir?" Sonya Gomez asked.

Geordi couldn't be mad. He hadn't explicitly asked her to keep it quiet, but he was planning to let Tasha explain it herself. Truth be told, he really had no idea what had happened.

"Phaser?" Data asked.

"All we know is a phaser went off in one of the tubes," Geordi said. "The team reported everything was fine."

"What section?" Data demanded.

"B7," Sonya informed him.

"Could have been an accident," Geordi said, he could already hear the wheels spinning in Data's brain.

"Geordi, phasers do not fire on accident," Data stated. "Nor do Starfleet security officers fire without cause."

"Tasha radioed that everything was fine," Geordi assured him.

"Ensign Gomez, who was in section B7?" Data asked, concerned.

"Uh…. that was Lieutenant Yar and Ensign Walsh," Sonya said as she read the report from the screen.

"Commander, could I have you take a look at this," Geordi said as he guided Data away from the main console and into an alcove that housed the secondary support systems.

Data began to protest, but a sharp look from Geordi made him realise Geordi's request was just a ruse for privacy.

"I don't know what happened. A phaser went off. When I saw who is in that section, I radioed Tasha," Geordi told him. "She said she was fine."

Geordi glanced around to ensure they weren't being heard.

"She said she was fine, but she didn't sound fine," Geordi went on. "She told me not to wait, to start the briefing without her. Said she'd be along later. I thought it would be best if she explained rather than us guessing at what may have transpired."

Data nodded in understanding.

It was no secret that Walsh had a reputation for making inappropriate remarks toward a number of fellow officers. And after their encounter on the Edo homeworld, Data had suspected there was more Tasha hadn't shared.

"Thank you, Geordi," Data said.

They stepped back into the main section of Engineering. Data was about to radio Tasha when Captain Picard stepped into the room.

"Ah! I see you've concluded the sweep," he said as he scanned the group. "What have we learned?"

"We were just about to begin the briefing, Captain," Geordi explained as he looked to Data.

Data proceeded to explain their initial findings. There had been no changes made to the system other than what they had observed Kosinski and his companion perform before the strange power surge.

Despite thorough testing, engineering could find no link between Kosinski's actions and the incident.

Moreover, security had not located any hidden devices or evidence of tampering.

"What do you recommend as our next course of action?" Captain Picard asked. "Theories on how to undo this?"

"I believe Lieutenant La Forge will cover that," Data said quickly.

Geordi followed Data's line of sight as he eyed Tasha stepping into the back of the room noticeably alone and he wondered if that phaser hadn't been aimed at Walsh.

"Uh, yes. I think we're done with the sweep. If I could get Ensign Sonya Gomez and Lieutenant Hanh's team with me," Geordi instructed as he dismissed the security personnel with his thanks.

He guided the captain over to engineering console two as he explained what their next option was.

Tasha's appearance late to the briefing did not go unnoticed by the captain.

"Ah, Lieutenant Yar!" Picard said as he spotted her. "You and Commander Data head to Sickbay. I'd like you to join Counsellor Troi in questioning Mister Kosinski's companion."

"Right away, sir," Tasha said.


They stepped onto the turbolift in silence.

Tasha stared at the wall.

"You have been crying," Data said.

It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact.

"I'm fine, Data," Tasha said. "We can talk about it later."

"Computer halt," Data ordered.

"Data, please," Tasha said. "Our jobs come first, remember?"

"I do not believe you are fine," Data said as he put his hand on shoulder.

She flinched, recoiling from him as her hands went up in defence instinctively.

Data pulled his hands back, as if he had touched something that had burned him.

They looked at each.

After a few seconds she wrapped her arms around him.

"I'm sorry, Data," she said.

She hadn't meant to push him away, it was instinct.

It took him a moment to register the change in her behaviour. He delicately wrapped his arms around her frame. After a few seconds, she seemed to relax, and he tightened the embrace.

"You are injured," he said.

"Bumped my head," she explained.

"I meant emotionally," Data clarified.

They stayed like that for a moment. Tasha was certain that if someone had told fifteen-year-old Tasha Yar that she'd wind up on a starship in the arms of a gentle android she would have called them moonsick.

It was what mental illness on Turkana was called. It didn't matter the scientific diagnosis or cause, it was all moonsickness. And on Turkana, being moonsick was worse than being dead.

Tasha tried to focus on what she could feel and hear.

She needed to stop thinking about Turkana.

"I am here," Data said softly.

She looked up at him.

"I know," she replied. "And I mean it, I can't talk about it right now."

Once in a great while something would trigger memories and she knew if she didn't stop it, she'd spiral.

They were dealing with an emergency. Tasha knew she couldn't fixate on her own trauma. There would be time later to discuss the matter.

Data nodded in understanding.

He brushed the top of her head with a soft kiss and then ordered the computer to resume.

Tasha stepped back and cleared her throat as she composed herself.

"Thank you," she said to him quietly before they stepped off the lift.


Data and Tasha's conversation with the Traveller had not gone well.

It wasn't the Traveller's fault. He was helpful and seemed genuinely interested in getting the ship back to the Alpha Quadrant.

However, he was struggling to remain conscious. They knew so little about his physiology that there was little Beverly could do for him.

Now back on the Bridge, they were still theorising options to return home.

"Data, you're with me in Engineering," Picard ordered. "Lieutenant Yar, you have the Bridge."

"Aye, sir," Tasha acknowledged as the two men got onto the lift.

As she moved to step away from Tactical to assume command, she heard a grunting sound.

Looking around there was an animal a metre away. It was like a hairy pig but had a sharp horn and its back was lined with wicked looking spikes.

Worf seemed pleasantly surprised as he approached the creature.

"What is that?" Tasha asked.

"A Klingon Targ!" he exclaimed excitedly. "My pet from home, but when I was a child."

"You're telling me that's a kitty-cat?" Tasha asked in astonishment as she listened to the beast grunt.

"Yes, I suppose you could call it that," Worf shrugged.

He moved to pet the Targ, but it vanished.

It was strange, but Captain Picard had warned them that crewmembers appeared to be experiencing hallucinations. It was an unknown result of whatever place they were drifting in.

Before she reached the command chair an orange tabby cat jumped along the railing.

"Speckle," Tasha said, barely above a whisper as she watched the feline friend from her childhood jump off the rail and land gracefully on the floor.

"You darling," she said as she picked her up.

She nuzzled against her beloved cat, stroking her fur. She knew it had to be a hallucination, but it was a welcome one. Speckle had been the closest thing she'd had to a real friend growing up.

"What are you doing here?" Tasha asked her cat lovingly.

She looked up and was startled.

Instead of being on the Bridge, she found herself in an unwelcome memory.

Only it wasn't just a memory, it felt real.

The Enterprise was gone.

The ground below her was the kind of rocky soil found in the caves outside of the Kessler colony. There was evidence of a campfire. Dirt had been kicked over the smouldering embers in an effort to quickly extinguish the flame.

There were voices in the distance, and they were growing closer.

Her breath hitched as she recognised exactly where she was at.

The thirteenth day of the Thunder Moon, one of the longest, darkest months of the year on Turkana. She had taken her sister, Ishara, into the caves near one of the larger settlements. They had come to trade.

It was also safer than being on the road in a storm.

But the danger of the weather and the roving bands of clans and cannibals on Turkana's backroads was replaced with mercenaries the closer they get.

Tasha managed to hide Ishara. And Ishara understood that she needed to stay hidden – no matter what happened.

Tasha realised that she never should have gone back to their campsite to grab her bow. But it was one of the only things of value the sisters had, and it was a vital survival tool. Tasha was determined she was not giving it up without a fight.

She had pulled Speckle close, and she could feel her cat was terrified.

Torchlight danced off the walls of the cave as the footfalls grew closer.

"Over here!" one of the men called.

Tasha had known it was over. At the very least, she had managed to get Ishara to safety.

"Now run," Tasha ordered as she kissed Speckle goodbye. "This isn't a safe place at all."

Tasha also understood what had come next. It had been the final blow in solidifying her plan that she needed to escape Turkana.

She was tired of scraping out an existence that more often than not involved the choice between selling her services as a courier or letting someone use her body.

And then there were moments like that cave where there was no terrible choice – there was only survival. Before her death, Tasha's mother had taught the oldest survival trick of any woman on Turkana.

If they wanted to watch you cry, then you did.

If they wanted you to look away, then you could dissociate from your body and pretend you were somewhere else, or they were someone else.

Because compliance meant survival.

But on that rainy night in that cave, fifteen-year-old Tasha Yar had had enough.

She was tired to the point that her exhaustion surpassed her fear or the need to survive. And in that moment, Tasha didn't care if she lived or died – she wasn't about to let another man touch her without her consent.

Even at fifteen, everything inside of her was screaming that Turkanan norm of sexual assault as a necessary evil was wrong.

Tasha had taken her knife out of her holster and took up a defensive stance.

She was going to fight for herself, her own body, and her mental stability even if it meant death.

Tasha knew she couldn't go down the path of that memory.

She tried to focus – Data, her friends, Starfleet – anything to stop this memory.

Starfleet, huh? A little voice in her head reminded her. You can't escape it anywhere.

Tasha's mind jumped to the incident from earlier with Walsh. Before she could stop herself, her mind spiralled.

She could smell the motor oil on their clothes. She recognised the unwashed smell that always seemed to accompany the gangs that roamed Turkana's wilderness.

She could feel their hands.

Tasha jumped as one of them touched her shoulder.

"Tasha, what's wrong?" Geordi said, his voice full of worry.

He'd never seen Tasha look this frightened – even during the situation with Data.

Her eyes were wide. Her body had tensed, and she was breathing heavily.

"You look scared to death," he commented as he scanned her vitals.

Her heart rate was elevated.

"I was, I was," she was struggling to put it to words.

She knew it was illogical.

"I was at the colony where I grew up," she explained.

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a breath.

She leaned in close to Geordi.

"Being chased," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. "By a gang."

Tasha was reluctant to share more. Even during their private counselling sessions, Tasha was hesitant about sharing the details of Turkana.

While her friends thought they knew of the horrors of that world, Tasha knew they had barely scratched the surface.

"You're safe now," Geordi said as he squeezed her hand.

Tasha nodded and took the Command chair.

Geordi went back to his position at the helm, but he was worried about Tasha.

He made a mental note to check in with Data later.


At 22:00 they were no closer to finding a solution than when they had begun.

Data's processing had been in overdrive attempting to find a solution that could bring them home. He'd combed through all known theories and could find no explanation.

The situation was growing more dire with each passing hour as it seemed that the fears of the crew were becoming reality. Whatever entity, energy, or force was behind it was unaffected by shields, particle sweeps, and radiation.

Doctor Crusher could find no medical cause for the sudden shared hallucinations. And while they had determined they were clearly the result of imagination and memory, they were proving to be dangerous.

A fire had broken out on deck fourteen and an ensign in Ten Forward had been injured when an imagined dog had taken a bite out of their leg.

Everyone on board was exhausted and frightened.

Captain Picard had informed the senior officers that he was ordering them to get some rest. They would return tomorrow morning at 07:00 to begin again, but for the moment, they all needed to step back.

Normally, this wasn't standard procedure. In an emergency, it was typically all hands-on deck and the senior officers were expected to be on duty for the duration.

However, as Doctor Crusher had pointed out, they had no way of knowing how long this emergency would last. If they were truly stranded, it would be unfeasible for the senior officers to remain on duty for days at a time.

"This is the captain. This is not a drill. It seems that in this place, the world of the physical universe and the world of ideas is somehow intermixed. What we think becomes reality," Picard announced.

He was on a ship-wide channel addressing the entire crew. He couldn't recall the last time he'd had to make so many ship-wide announcements in a single day.

"We must, therefore, I repeat, must begin controlling our thoughts," Picard explained. "We will give you more information as our understanding develops. Although I have taken audio alert updates offline, the Enterprise will stay at full alert until the crisis is over."

He didn't want the sirens blaring endlessly.

"Dismissed," Picard ordered.

The senior officers sat back in their chairs. It was a strange position to be in. They were all sharing the feeling that they needed to keep working.

"I mean it Number One," Picard said bluntly as he looked at his First Officer.

He knew Riker had a hard time shutting off from work.

"All of you. Go back to your quarters and do whatever it is you people do to relax," Picard ordered.

"Understood, sir," Data nodded.

Picard turned to Deanna.

"I know you've been overwhelmed today," Picard said, acknowledging the strain the counsellor was under.

It wasn't just the emotional weight of the fear and uncertainty of a thousand people her empathic abilities allowed her to feel, Deanna had been flooded with requests for counselling sessions as the crew tried to navigate the emergency.

Those with families back home were worried they would never see them again. Those without families were equally as concerned with missed opportunities. There were also crewmembers that felt excited about the prospect for exploration and that had caused feelings of guilt and confusion given fear and pain felt by others.

"I want you to clear your schedule in the morning and find two or three other individuals that can assist," Picard ordered. "I know we have at least a handful of other crew members with some counselling training and experience. Let's put it to use and share the load."


Across the ship, Tasha and Data were lying in bed.

She was drained, yet unable to sleep. It had been many years since she'd been afraid to close her eyes.

She knew she shouldn't be – Data was next to her, Walsh was in the brig, and Turkana was millions of lightyears away.

Regardless, every time she closed her eyes her thoughts seemed to drift back to that day.

In a way, it was bittersweet. Speckle had been so loving. And yet, those memories were tainted with the knowledge of the last time she'd seen her beloved cat.

For his part, Data did not experience fatigue like humans.

But tonight, he had an unexplainable desire to slow his processing and experience distraction. His neural net had been working in overdrive for hours computing expert level calculations and pouring through quantum mechanics theory. In the simplest terms, he needed rest.

He forcibly shut down several programmes as he tried to slow his system enough to engage his sleep programme.

However, as they both lay there, they couldn't shake the feeling they should be on the Bridge.

"This doesn't feel right," Tasha confessed.

"Would you like me to move?" Data inquired.

"No," Tasha said as she rolled toward him. "I mean trying to sleep when we're in the middle of a crisis."

"Ah," Data said, nodding in understanding.

She snuggled into his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Is that way you are having difficulty falling asleep?" Data asked.

He suspected it was one reason, but not the only reason. Tasha could sleep through a warp core breach. It was unlike her to struggle with something like sleep. And she had been on edge since earlier. She still hadn't discussed it with him, but Data wasn't sure how far to push.

"What happened with Walsh?" Data asked, frankly.

"He was trying it on," Tasha replied.

"Inquiry, trying what on?" Data questioned, uncertain of her meaning.

He accessed his informational files on human colloquialisms. Before he could identify the context, Tasha filled in the blanks for him.

"He came at me in the Jefferies tube," she explained. "After he had been a right pervert for half the scan."

Instinctively, Data tightened his grip around her.

"He's in the brig," Tasha went on. "I filed a report this afternoon. On the bright side, if we don't get out of here, we won't have to deal with Admiral Grandad interfering."

Data looked down at her.

"I dislike that Ensign Walsh has thus far avoided reprimand for his actions," Data said, his voice stained with just a hint of the frustration he felt. "His conduct is most unbecoming of a Starfleet officer."

"On the other hand, if we do find a way back home, I'm certain there will be hell to pay," Tasha said.

She rolled onto her back and groaned.

Data sat up on his arm.

"I forgot about his pool," she said as she looked up at him disgusted.

"Why does Ensign Walsh have a swimming facility?" Data inquired.

Tasha shook her head.

"A betting pool," she clarified as she brought her hand to her forehead. "I'm not looking forward to that conversation with the security team."

Data opened his mouth to ask a question, but Tasha beat him to it.

"You don't want to know," she said.

"May I wager an assumption that it is of a problematic nature?" Data asked.

Tasha sighed and nodded.

"If this is a personnel matter, perhaps it would be best if myself or Commander Riker were to intervene," Data suggested.

Tasha sat up and looked at him, wearing a look that indicated he was missing a critical element.

"You can't do that," Tasha said. "If you step in it's going to look like I ran to my senior officer boyfriend to fix my problems."

"I thought you did not like that term?" Data replied as he cocked his head to the side in confusion.

"I don't," Tasha clarified as she waved her hands.

She pinched the Bridge of her nose as she contemplated how she could better explain the situation.

"Data, if you or Commander Riker step in it will look like I couldn't handle the problem myself," Tasha asserted. "I would lose credibility with my security staff."

Inside there was a little voice nagging her that perhaps she had already lost credibility – at the very least with the Beta shift boys.

No, she reasoned with herself. She had to take care of this on her own.

And it wasn't just her career in Starfleet pushing Tasha to that conclusion.

The situation with Walsh and her memories from earlier had left her feeling like she had no control over her life.

"Besides, if we make it out of here, I'm sure you'll have to get involved if Walsh's grandfather steps in," Tasha laughed, projecting confidence she didn't feel.

"I'll be right beside you," Data assured her as he planted a kiss on her cheek.

"I know," she replied as she cupped his face.

Data felt warm. She had that effect on him whenever she looked at him that way – like she knew she could trust him, like she was happy he was there.

"A problem for another day," Tasha said as she let her hand drop.

It had felt good to get that off her chest, even with the possibility of the impending consequences of throwing a Fleet Admiral's grandson in the brig.

Data watched her, when instead of laying back down she picked absentmindedly at her fingernails as she toyed with the idea of telling Data about the incident on the Bridge.

Geordi had caught him before their briefing and warned him about the incident on the Bridge.

She seemed to be open to talking and Data decided it would be appropriate to inquire.

Tasha continued to weigh her options.

As if on cue, he beat her to the punch.

"Geordi told me about what happened on the Bridge," Data said softly.

A beat passed.

"Was the cat he saw Speckle?" Data questioned.

"Yeah," Tasha replied in a faraway voice.

He thought back to their previous conversation about her much-loved cat. He knew that the animal elicited memories of both joy and sorrow.

The sadness in her eyes had been apparent and she couldn't disguise the pain in her voice whenever she spoke of Speckle.

"He said you mentioned you were being chased," Data pressed. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

Fear suddenly gripped Tasha's chest.

If Geordi had seen Speckle, what else had he seen?

"Did Geordi say if he saw anything else besides a cat?" Tasha asked.

Tasha had been open with her friends about being a sexual assault survivor. But the thought of them knowing, of seeing, the details of the worst assault of her life was just too horrible a thought to bear.

It was like being victimised all over again.

"Just the cat," Data answered.

Tasha sighed with relief.

She folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them.

"Data, I think you know enough about Turkana to understand it wasn't an easy place to grow up," Tasha said. "I came to terms with that a long time ago."

That wasn't a secret between them. Data was aware – at least at a 20,000 kilometre view – that she had experienced what could be classified as a traumatic adolescence on the abandoned colony. It was a planet plagued by famine and violence governed by warring factions, dangerous nomadic gangs, and clan warlords.

Tasha had credited counselling through Starfleet with helping her process that trauma and develop healthy coping mechanisms – something Data had taken to heart.

After their recent missions, he had been working with Counsellor Troi to better understand his own feelings and work through what had happened in his past.

"It's been a long time since I've been triggered like today," Tasha said. "But what happened with Walsh-"

She trailed off for a moment as she collected her thoughts.

"It was like I was back there," Tasha explained as she looked at him. "I could smell them. I just tensed, bracing myself because I knew what was coming."

He didn't interrupt, content to let her go at her own pace.

"You know that day wasn't the first time I was raped. It wasn't the first. It certainly wasn't the last. But it was the worst," she confessed.

Tasha stopped as she felt her face grow warm.

"They took everything, Data," Tasha went on.

They had taken everything – all of their rations, the medical supplies, their emergency fuel, every piece of scrap, even their sleep rolls.

But it wasn't just the loss of physical assets that had hurt.

"They took everything. Including a part of me that I don't think I will ever get back," Tasha admitted.

It felt good to finally say that aloud to someone.

"I wanted to die," Tasha shared. "I just wanted to end it all. I didn't want to be there anymore."

That was the lowest point of her miserable life on Turkana.

She thought back to laying on the cave floor - staring at nothing in particular in the darkness, bitter at the fact that they hadn't just killed her, wishing for the sweet release of death.

Tasha sniffled and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Sometimes it feels like they shattered my soul. And I've spent twelve years trying to piece it back together. The cracks are still there. Weak spots, ready to break like today. And there's parts that can't be put back," Tasha wept. "Parts that are too broken."

She stopped and bit her lip to keep it from quivering.

Data cupped her face but said nothing.

"I c-c-can't," she trailed off. "If you knew, you'd never look at me the same way again."

Data gently thumbed away the tears from her cheeks.

"I love you, Tasha. And I have loved you for far longer and much deeper than I should admit," Data assured her. "The trauma that you have been subjected to does not alter my feelings for you."

Tasha closed her eyes and nuzzled against his hand.

Data quickly considered if he should say something that had entered his mind. He did not want to make her feel worse. However, given the direction of their conversation and her emotional response, Data theorised that he knew Tasha well enough to understand where her mind was at.

"I'm sorry," Tasha said quickly.

She was embarrassed at having broken down in front of him like that.

"You have no reason to apologise," Data said.

"You didn't sign on for this," Tasha laughed awkwardly. "I didn't mean-"

She stopped and took a shaky breath.

Data gripped her chin and forced her to look back at him.

"I love you, Natasha Yar. All of you. Including the parts of you that you feel are too shattered to put back together," Data said softly.

"Why?" Tasha asked.

She wanted to ask him why he was so sweet, but it was all she could manage to get out.

"Perhaps the parts of you that are shattered were just waiting for someone synthetic to piece them back together?" Data suggested. "I am capable of performing trillions of calculations per second."

A joke.

Tasha smiled softly. She leaned toward him and rested her forehead against Data's.

"Perhaps you should speak with Counsellor Troi?" he suggested.

Tasha shook her head.

"She's pretty busy," Tasha laughed. "Besides, I've never told anyone else that. And I don't think I could."

Data rubbed her back in what he hoped was a soothing motion.

"This is helping," Tasha said after a moment. "And talking is helping."

It did feel good to voice some of what she was feeling.

"I am here," he reassured her.

"You know, it made the decision for me. The decision to leave," Tasha explained. "Ishara was so angry, but I knew I had to escape."

She looked away at the wall for a moment.

"Tasha, who is Ishara?" Data asked.

"My sister," Tasha said.

She put her head down and rubbed her forehead. Data suspected this had drawn out another bad memory.

Or perhaps, sadness. Data thought to himself.

Tasha had never spoken of Ishara, but he considered the possibility that she was feeling uncertain because of their current situation.

"Tasha, are you upset because you are worried you will never see her again?" Data asked. "Because we may never get home?"

"No, Data," Tasha said as she turned back to him, shaking her head.

She gave him a small smile, but he could see tears had started to form.

"I am sorry if I have-" he started to apologise but Tasha stopped him.

"Don't apologise, Data," Tasha assured him. "She's probably dead."

Tasha brushed away the tears from her face with her thumb.

"Were you close?" Data pressed.

Tasha laughed bitterly.

"Hardly," Tasha said. "It was like trying to raise a child. Well, I guess I was raising a child."

Data cocked his head to the side. Her reaction was curious. It left him with more questions than answers.

"She was such a brat," Tasha explained. "She never listened. Always getting us into trouble."

Momentarily, Tasha's thoughts drifted back to a particularly nasty incident in which Ishara had nearly cost them both their lives. Tasha had paid dearly to get them out of that particular scrap.

Tasha knew the clan they had been captured by was intending to sell them to a black-market organ harvesting operation. Ishara had been convinced that the warlord's son was intent to make her his consort.

She saw their capture as a path to security and safety.

Her sister had been furious when Tasha had secured their release – a fact that she never let Tasha forget.

Ishara had never fully comprehended just what Tasha had sacrificed to secure her sister's freedom.

Data brushed his hand back through her hair.

His hand on her face pulled her out of the memory.

"Tell me a story," she said suddenly, eager to change the topic.

Data's head tilted to the left. She could see he was trying to determine if her request was sincere or if this was an idiom.

"I mean it," Tasha said.

"A story? As in a fictional story?" Data asked.

"Mmm hmm," Tasha said as she kissed him. "Sherlock Holmes."

"But you dislike Sherlock Holmes," Data replied, confused by her request.

She planted a trail of kisses along his face.

"I was wrong," she said.

She put her hand on his chest and guided him back down against his pillow.

"How about A Scandal in Bohemia?" Tasha suggested as she snuggled into his chest.

Data was perplexed.

She had previously made her feelings on Holmes quite clear.

"Don't think about it," Tasha said with a yawn.

Data wiggled his eyebrows and decided not to question it – at least at the present time.

"To Sherlock Holmes, she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name," he said as he launched into the story.

He didn't get far before he could sense the tell-tale change in her breathing that indicated she had fallen asleep.

He brushed the top of her head with a tender kiss before laying his head back against his pillow. He closed his eyes and activated his sleep programme.

As his processing slowed, he thought to himself how fortunate he was.

"Tasha," he whispered softly.

He knew she was asleep and wouldn't hear him, but he felt compelled to say it regardless.

"We may be stranded millions of lightyears from the alpha quadrant. And I know everyone is afraid we will never get home. But I am not afraid," Data confessed. "Because I believe my home is here with you."