Author's Note: Eeeee! I am so excited to be here. This is one of those chapters I've had waiting since the earliest days of The Complication.

Once more, this is an episode I'm taking out of order. However, I believe that the reasons behind that choice will become apparent in time.

While this chapter is predominantly about fluff and family, I don't want to display the circumstances of Timothy's position. It's awful. Fortunately, he's got Data to help get him through it.

A note on time:

In this series, the timeline is extended. There's over a year of time between Encounter at Farpoint at Data & Tasha getting together around the events of The Lonely Among Us.

Additionally, Data and Tasha have been together for over a year now. The events of The Case coincide with that anniversary.

So as we approach the end of S1, imagine the team has been together for nearly three years.

"Once. Ten days ago," Data answered, informing Deanna how many nightmares he'd had since their last session.

"And what happened?" Deanna inquired.

"After I awoke, Tasha was there. She heard me," Data reached for Tasha's hand and pulled it toward his lap. "We made some tea and spoke for a while before going back to bed."

Deanna was delighted.

"Data, did you notice that you answered my question by telling me what you did after the nightmare rather than the content of it?" Deanna asked.

Data's face lit up.

It was a step in the right direction.

"Then perhaps I will be able to without experiencing them at all by the time we-"

Data stopped himself.

He'd been so excited he nearly outed their plans to elope. Save for Captain Picard (whom they needed to notify), the only person that knew was Geordi.

They longed to share the news with their friends – but only after the fact. And it didn't feel right revealing the truth to Deanna in therapy.

"By the time you do what?" Deanna prompted, sensing they were holding something back.

Data and Tasha turned to one another and smiled.

"What are you two planning?" Deanna inquired.

"A lifetime of happiness," Tasha answered cryptically.

It wasn't long before the timer went off and their hour was up.

"I'm sorry," Deanna apologised. "I do have another appointment, so you'll have to, well-"

She glanced to the door.

"Right," Tasha said.

"Of course, forgive us," Data added.

As soon as the were in the corridor, Data pulled Tasha into a small alcove that was near the door to Deanna's office.

They were cautious about public displays of affection – especially when they were on duty. But as of late, Data's quarters were off limits, and he didn't get much of a chance to slip away to see Tasha.

Tasha giggled as Data's lips travelled down her jawline.

"You know this feels a bit like when we first started seeing each other," Tasha said. "You know, sneaking around."

Data stopped.

"Sneaking around is only fun when one eventually gets the mmmph."

Tasha silenced him with a kiss.

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered when they broke apart.

Data still felt bad.

"In any case, I have plenty of thoughts of Føroyar to keep my bed warm until you return," Tasha teased, playfully walking her fingers up his chest.

Data cocked his head to the side, concerned that there was a grave misunderstanding.

"Tasha, Føroyar is a subpolar oceanic climate. The average temperature of Føroyar is 2°C during the summer and-"

Data stopped. A grin spread across Tasha's face as she watched realisation dawn on Data.

"Oh," he said.

"Sweet dreams, Mr Data," Tasha said softly.

Tasha gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"You should get going. School's out soon and he'll be looking for you," Tasha said, giving his hand a squeeze.

She moved to go, but Data pulled her back.

"Keep thinking of Føroyar," Data said as he tucked Tasha's bangs back. "I cannot get it out of my mind."

Tasha blushed.

"Go," she said. "He needs you. And, well, I think it's good for you too."

After one last quick kiss, Tasha retreated off down the corridor. She turned just before stepping onto the lift and gave him one last small wave.

Data was touched.

He didn't know what he would do without Tasha. For the nine days, their relationship had been largely reduced to occasional lunch dates in the canteen. Most of the time they spent together was on duty.

Tasha hadn't complained once.

The whole way to the school, Data felt like he was floating. He barely registered the stampede of children rushing out to find their parents.

But there was one little boy that wasn't running along with the rest of his classmates.

"Hello, Timothy," Data said, greeting the young boy. "How was your day at school?"

"Informative," Timothy responded.

"Would you like to join me in the Arboretum to help Doctor Ishikawa with the plant samples? Afterwards I thought we could stop by Ten Forward and share a meal," Data suggested.

Timothy cocked his head to the side.

"That would be acceptable," he answered.

Ten Days Earlier

Tasha was grateful it was a slow morning on the Bridge. Data had experienced a rather powerful nightmare early that morning. They'd spent most of the night talking. They caught a short nap before reporting for duty.

The Enterprise was heading back across Alpha Quadrant in order to resume the mapping mission she'd abandoned when pursuing the emergency hail from Graves's world.

The crew despised the monotony of mapping missions. But in light of everything that had occurred in recent days, they were all looking forward to a bit of a break.

The universe had other plans.

"Sir, we're receiving an incoming message from Starbase 514," Tasha reported.

"Starbase 514. Isn't that near Breen space?" Riker asked.

Data turned in his seat, intrigued.

"Starbase 514 is the largest Starfleet institution near the Breen Confederacy. It is an installation predominantly focused on scientific research," Data advised.

There were a number of Starfleet bases dedicated to such a purpose – Starbase 514 being no exception. It was homebase for a fleet of research vessels.

Tasha blanched as she read the message.

"Lieutenant?" Picard prompted.

Tasha glanced up.

"They're requesting we investigate the disappearance of one of their research vessels. The USS Vico," Tasha said.

A dark look crossed her face.

"In the Black Cluster," she added.

Fifteen minutes later the team was assembled on the Observation Lounge for a briefing.

"Mr Data," Picard said with a small nod to indicate he should proceed.

"Forty-nine hours ago, Starbase 514 lost contact with a research vessel. The USS Vico," Data announced.

He tapped his tablet and brought up a slide on the viewscreen.

"The Vico is an Oberth-class science vessel. The ship features thirteen decks, a single phaser bank, and standard deflector shields," Data explained.

He swiped his finger on his PADD to highlight a particular section. On screen, a schematic of the ship rotated.

"However, unlike other Oberth-class vessels, the Vico is unique in that she has been specially designed to handle the unique gravitational wavefronts within the interior of the Black Cluster," Data said.

The Black Cluster was beyond the borders of Federation space. It was a dangerous, narrow corridor - a region where the unique gravitational pull caused by so many collapsed protostars was known to wreak havoc on navigational equipment.

It was sandwiched between Breen space and the equally unappealing Typhon Expanse. In fact, it wasn't all that far from Minos (or what had once been Minos).

Federation vessels rarely traversed the area. The whole area was teeming with the likes of Breen raiders, the quarrelsome Miradorns, and Cardassian mining facilities.

"She carries a complement of seventy-one including Starfleet personnel, civilians, and families," Data said.

The room fell silent for a moment.

"We're all thinking it. Is this a trap?" Picard asked, posing the question to the group.

"It's a long way from Romulan space," Deanna said.

"Though we know they have engaged in dealings with the Breen," Worf advised.

"It's an isolated corridor. If a Federation ship were to disappear or even be openly attacked, well, it would be a way to work around the ceasefire," Tasha cautioned.

"But the Black Cluster?" Geordi remarked in disbelief. "That would be extremely dangerous. Foolhardy. I don't think the Romulans would take that kind of chance."

Romulans were known for their proclivity to risk as little as possible. They were masters in the art of exploiting situations to their advantage – but only in the most calculated of situations.

"Lieutenant La Forge raises a good point," Data said. "The Romulans would have no way of knowing that our ship would respond. A D'deridex class ship would be subject to the same gravitational wavefronts as our own vessels."

His brow furrowed.

"I do not believe the Romulans would take such a risk simply to destroy a random Federation target," Data concluded.

"Captain, I'm not saying we shouldn't go. I think we should. People need our help," Miles said. "But we're going to figure out a plan for handling the gravitational wavefronts in there."

"Hmm," Picard nodded.

He sat back in his seat, scratching his chin while he mulled over this information.

"Lieutenant Worf, coordinate with Starbase. Let them know we're en route," Picard ordered.

He then turned to Geordi and Miles.

"I'm tasking you two with developing a plan to get us into the Black Cluster and back safely," Picard said. "Not one scratch on my ship, do you understand?"

"You got it, Captain," Geordi answered.

"Mr Data, put together a plan for a grid search of the area. When we're close enough, let's launch some level one probes to try and narrow that down," Picard said before turning to Tasha. "Lieutenant Yar, work with Mr Data and Doctor Crusher. Put together a team for search and rescue if necessary including all required safety precautions."

Jean-Luc was hoping they would be able to complete any assistance required without having to beam anyone off the ship.

"Coordinate your plans with Commander Riker," Picard ordered. "Number One, I expect a full briefing by 16:00 hours."

"Calypso," Riker said.

Geordi and Data nodded together.

"Yes, sir," Data answered.

"Bingo," Geordi chimed in.

Riker's eyes narrowed as he skimmed through the proposal.

"To summarise, we believe the adaptations we made to the Calypso during the black hole incident would provide superior protection against the gravitational wavefronts within the Black Cluster," Data advised.

"It's a much safer option than taking the Enterprise in too deep," Geordi explained.

"Who the hell had the brilliant idea to take this ship?" Beverly said out of the corner of her mouth.

Her hands were white as a sheet as she clutched the side of her seat.

The away team dispatched on the Calypso was bouncing as the ship rocked and jerked under the extreme gravitational waves of the Black Cluster.

"Bit of a bumpy ride," Riker remarked.

"Commander, that is an understatement," Data said.

He didn't have the capacity to feel sick to his stomach like his humanoid compatriots. But as they were jostled about, Data was keenly aware of each lurch and creak – and just what those sounds meant as the graviton waves threatened to rip the small ship apart.

"Shields are holding," Tasha advised from her position at Tactical.

She was gripping her console in order to stay upright.

"Do we have a visual on the Vico yet?" Riker asked.

"Negative," Data answered.

The unique gravitational makeup of the Black Cluster made it difficult to search for anything – including objects that were in the path of the ship.

Their sensors were rendered nearly useless and Data was manually guiding the vessel in an effort to avoid crashing.

In addition to the normal space debris and objects like moons and asteroids, the Black Cluster was also riddled with bits of broken ship.

It was a graveyard filled with the relics of ships it had claimed over the last ten thousand years.

A particularly powerful wave hit the ship – sending Worf and Tasha into the wall behind them and most of the seated crew to the floor. Miles O'Brien yelped in pain. The shake had jostled his old shoulder injury.

Only Data had managed to stay upright and in his seat.

Barely so.

"Shields down to seventy-three percent," Worf reported.

"Increase power to the shields," Riker ordered.

Miles tried to pull himself up using his console as leverage. Summoning his inner strength, Miles grit his teeth and poured all his effort into reaching the console screen.

He was serving in the ops position and knew everyone was counting on him.

"Argghhh," he groaned.

"Whoa, take it easy, Chief," Beverly said.

She was at his side in a flash, urging him to stay down.

"I am rerouting power to the shields," Data said from his position at the helm.

With all the added stress of manually compensating for the graviton waves and navigating without use of the computer, Data was already under enormous strain.

It made it difficult for Data to concentrate on anything other than his work.

He had no sooner boosted the shield grid when they were rocked with another powerful graviton wave.

"Now I know what a bloody pinball feels like," Miles grumbled.

"Shields are down to fifty-one percent," Worf said.

At the back of the Bridge, Worf and Tasha exchanged a worried look.

"I thought this little ship was designed for this?" Riker asked.

"It was," Tasha responded.

Everyone froze as the hull groaned and creaked. There was a loud noise that sounded alarmingly like duranium bending under stress.

"Was that?" Beverly asked.

"Yes," Data responded in an unusually terse voice.

His neural net was struggling to keep up with such a high level of processing as he managed numerous high-functioning tasks at once.

"Commander, I believe I may have located the Vico," Data said.

Because they couldn't rely on sensor readings, Data was having to simultaneously compile, cross-reference, and interpret several data points in real time.

There was something out there.

Based on the size, shape, and materials used in construction it appeared to correspond with the Vico.

"Intercept in nine minutes and fourteen seconds," Data warned.

"Lifesigns?" Riker asked.

"Nothing," Data replied. "But it is difficult to determine with our limited sensor capabilities."

"Sir, the increased power is starting to cause a drain on the shields," Tasha cautioned.

Her brow furrowed as she watched the shield grid begin to dip from full power to down just around sixty percent.

Another wave rocked the bridge of the Calypso.

"At least it seems we've passed through the worst of the gravitational fluctuations," Riker said as a second, smaller wave crashed over the ship.

With each new notch, the power drain had Tasha on edge. The waves were still coming, though hardly the shipbreakers they'd encountered moments earlier. Tasha just hoped their luck held out.

"The ship is within visual range," Data said. "Confirmation. Target is the USS Vico."

Data could clearly see the ship's registry on the hull ahead.

"She looks to be adrift," Worf said.

"Anything yet? Lifesigns? Can they receive us?" Riker asked.

Tasha tapped her station to open a new communications channel and frowned.

"Ship's communications array is likely destroyed. I can't establish a channel," Tasha announced.

They were close enough to the vessel now that they could clearly see the signs of extensive damage. The outer and inner hulls were breached, and it appeared decks seven through twelve were exposed to space.

"My god, those poor people," Beverly remarked.

Even if there were survivors left aboard, the sheer amount of destruction meant the odds of finding many people was unlikely.

"Structural status, Data?" Riker inquired.

Data was having a difficult time keeping track of so many calculations at once.

"Sir, it is difficult to-"

"Your best estimate," Riker interjected, anticipating his question.

"Emergency bulkheads appear to be in place, but stress readings indicate considerable pressure on the transverse supports," Data answered. "The risk of structural collapse is high."

Beverly whipped around.

"Sir, if there are survivors on that ship-" she began to protest.

Riker put his hand up to stop her.

"We didn't come this far just to knock at the door and leave," Riker assured her.

Riker got up from the Command Chair and helped pull Miles to his feet.

"We need a linkup signal that can penetrate that hull. And a lock on the away team the whole time. Can you manage that, Chief?" Riker asked.

Miles grinned.

"I could do it in my sleep," he replied.

Using his good arm, Miles set to work establishing a linkup signal with the Vico.

"I won't be able to transport through the bulkheads," Miles advised. "But I can get you to the bridge."

"That's fine," Riker said. "I just want to be sure we can pull everybody out at the first sign of trouble."

Riker then turned to Data.

"Data? How close can you get us to that ship?" Riker asked.

Miles exhaled slowly – keeping one watchful eye on the away team as he eyed the Vico just out the viewscreen.

Right outside the viewscreen.

Too close for comfort. Miles thought.

Commander Riker, Data, Worf, Tasha, and Beverly had beamed over to the Vico to see if they could find any clues as to the Vico's demise and hopefully locate survivors.

While some may have found it spooky to be alone on the ship in the middle of the Black Cluster, sitting just shy of the wreckage of another Starfleet vessel, Miles was comforted in knowing if they away team didn't make it back – he was likely just as much of a goner on his own.

There was no way he would be able to fly the Calypso back alone.

Small comforts. He mused.

His dark sense of humour may have been off putting to some. But for Miles, it was a matter of survival.

The team that beamed over to the Vico weren't in much better shape. The bridge was completely destroyed. There were smashed consoles and sparking wires. The lights flickered ominously.

It was a wonder the Bridge was still intact given the severity of the destruction.

From the look of things, they had evacuated the crew to the Bridge when things got dire. There were dozens of bodies. Beverly was moving person to person in a desperate search for any lifesigns.

"This station is inoperable, sir," Data advised from the operations console.

There was a loud groan from the hull as the ship rode one of the smaller waves.

Everyone froze, holding their breath and straining their ears as the wave passed over them. There was a collective sense of relief when the ship was still intact.

"Alright, let's keep moving. We got lucky on that one. No telling how many more chances we'll get," Riker said.

The team scurried back into action.

"The science station and comms appear to be stuck in a feedback loop," Worf said as he pounded on the side of it.

"T? Any theories on who or what did this?" Riker asked.

"Too early to tell," Tasha answered.

She scanned her Security tricorder over the entire area, collecting as much information as possible to identify the culprit.

"Could be a disruptor weapon of sorts. There's evidence that would support that conclusion," Tasha said.

There was more than a hefty dose of uncertainty in her voice.

"But?" Riker inquired.

"But we don't really know a lot about this region of space, Sir. And, well, there's no blast pattern," Tasha said as she gestured to the walls.

"Could it be an explosive?" Riker suggested.

Tasha bit her lip.

She didn't want to shoot down the idea (especially since they were in a relatively unexplored area). But the destruction didn't point in that direction.

At least not based on what they knew of explosives. There was no trace of any sort of burn of scorch marks on the walls, the equipment, nor the bodies.

"Maybe. But even with an explosive device there's still a blast pattern that we can use to trace back to a point of origin," Tasha said.

"Mmm, this evidence is not in line with that theory," Worf said in agreement.

Tasha sighed as she surveyed the room.

"Whatever happened here – it happened fast. And it happened in one go. Everything, everywhere all at once," Tasha remarked, offering her honest assessment.

All of sudden there was a bone-chilling creak echoed through the decrepit vessel. One of the girders detached and came crashing down. Data dove for Beverly, rolling them both out of the way just in the nick of time.

"Thanks," Beverly said, catching her breath.

"Are you alright?" Data asked.

Beverly nodded.

She was fine – just shaken.

Data was about to suggest they head back to the Calypso when a faint sound caught his ear.

"Data?" Tasha prompted, recognising that look.

He put his finger up to silence everyone. Data cocked his head to the side and closed his eyes. Straining his audio receptors, Data tried to identify both the source and location.

Riker didn't want to push him, but they were pressed for time.

"Data, we're a little-"

"Shhh," Data said, imploring them to be silent.

It was difficult enough trying to hear above all the sparking wires and eerie creaks of the hull.

"A survivor," Data said.

He scrambled to his feet and rushed off the Bridge toward a meeting room down a small flight of stairs.

Unlike the Galaxy-class Enterprise and her first-rate accommodations, the Vico was a much smaller vessel.

It featured a multipurpose meeting room just half a level down from the Bridge on the back of the first deck.

Data rounded the corner, carefully avoiding a coolant spill.

"Help! Dad?! Daaaaaad!" someone cried out.

There was a whimper of pain from a small voice.

Someone is crying. Data realised.

Data frantically scanned the immediate area for anyone or anything that was moving. There was so much debris strewn about it was difficult to separate the bodies from the wreckage.

"Hello?" Data called out.

The voice fell silent.

Data stepped through under one of the heavy girders. There was a soft, audible gasp that drew his attention.

Data spied a young boy struggling under a mountain of collapsed rubble. He froze the moment he saw Data.

"Hello," Data said.

As Data stepped closer, the boy recoiled and tried to slip into the pile to hide.

"Do not be frightened. My name is Data," Data said, hoping to relax the child.

He was used to scaring people. Data could only assume how frightening a sight he must be in the midst of all the chaos and destruction.

Data knelt down in front of him and held out his hand.

"I will not hurt you. We are here to rescue you," Data said.

"I want my dad," the boy said.

"We will get you out," Data promised.

"I want my dad," the boy repeated, panic rising within him.

He had no idea how long he'd been trapped there. His last few minutes with his dad had been turbulent and frightening. Everything had happened so quickly that he was having trouble even remembering.

He was cold, tired, and hungry. His arm hurt. His knees were scraped.

In short, he was miserable.

Data quickly assessed the situation. The boy was pinned beneath an oversized beam – one of the primary support stabilisers for the deck.

Data was worried that shifting it around too much might further destabilise the structural integrity and cause a collapse.

The rest of the crew came rushing around the corner just as Data decided on a course of action.

"Chief? Can you read a life sign near my signal?" Data inquired.

"Aye. It's weak, but I've got a read on it," Miles replied.

Data tapped his combadge.

"There is a young boy trapped beneath a significant amount of debris including one of the structural beams. Can you beam him directly back to the Calypso?" Data asked.

There was a brief pause.

While Miles and Data tried to work out a plan to extract the child, Beverly knelt down and ran a quick tricorder scan.

"Hi. My name is Beverly. Can you tell me your name?" she asked.

"I want my dad!" the boy cried.

He squeezed his eyes shut and began to cry, hot tears spilling down over his face.

"I want my dad! I want to go home!" he sobbed.

Instinctively, Data reached out and gently gripped the boy's hand. He was still trying to work things out with Chief O'Brien but wanted to offer some wordless reassurance that it would be alright.

In his research, Data had read that human children often experienced 'big' emotions. They were still learning to understand and identify their feelings.

Having gone through the same experience at a much later stage in life, Data could relate to the overwhelming sense of fear and confusion.

"Negative," Miles finally answered. "There's too much shielding to pull him through. With all that victurium alloy, I don't think I can resolve the matter stream."

Miles was doing everything he could to boost the signal. It was to no avail.

"Can you get him out into the corridor?" Miles suggested.

Data made a face.

"I could move the beam," he acknowledged.

Data looked back over his shoulder at the rest of the team.

"It may initiate the collapse of the surrounding supports," he said quietly.

He didn't want to alarm the boy.

But the young man had heard Data and he understood what that meant. Data glanced back as the boy desperately gripped Data's hand.

"Please don't leave me," he cried. "I just want to go home."

Data nodded before turning back to the team.

"I recommend you all return to the ship and prepare for an emergency beam out," Data advised.

A brief look of understanding passed between Data and Tasha.

They were on duty. If things didn't end well, this would be their goodbye.

"Alright, Chief, beam the rest of us back," Riker ordered.

After a soft shimmering noise, Data was left alone with the boy. He was the sole survivor of the Vico. Data had no way of knowing for certain, but based on their estimates the child had been trapped and alone for over forty-eight hours.

Given all that this child had been through, Data was astounded by his emotional capacity to speak clearly and be alert. Data knew the boy required sustenance, hydration, medical attention, and rest.

And emotional support. Data thought.

"I require your help," Data said.

He was hoping to bolster the boy's confidence by making him feel useful.

The boy frowned, eyeing Data with scepticism.

"As soon as you can move, I need you to rush over to that spot," Data said, pointing to a place that was clear in the middle of the corridor. "Then we will both get out of here together."

He smiled.

"Can you do that?" Data asked.

The boy took a shaky breath as he eyed the area. As much as he wanted to go home and curl up in his bed, this spot under the pile of rubble had been the only thing he'd known for the last day and half.

The thought of leaving it was intimidating.

"What if I'm scared?" he asked.

"I will keep you safe," Data promised.

The boy looked unconvinced. He desperately wanted to believe this strange pale man. But he was afraid.

"My dad said that too," he sniffled.

His father had also promised to keep him safe – and then the whole ship had shaken apart.

"What is your name?" Data asked.

"Timothy," the boy answered.

"Have you ever heard of the Enterprise, Timothy?" Data asked.

Data was banking on that catching his attention.

And it was a gamble that paid off. In spite of the horror around them, the boy's eyes lit up.

"Everybody's heard of the Enterprise," Timothy said, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"My name is Data, and I am the Second Officer on the Enterprise," Data explained. "We have come to save you."

"M-m-my dad is the Second Officer here. On the Vico," Timothy said.

Data nodded, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to break it to the boy yet that his father was gone.

"When I lift this beam you will need to-"

"You're gonna lift that?" Timothy asked in awe.

"Yes," Data replied simply.

Data's mind was focused on getting them both to safety. Each new sound from the hull was a reminder they were working against the clock.

"You run for that spot, okay? I will then take you back to our ship. Do you understand?" Data asked.

But Timothy's young, curious mind was now flooded with questions.

"How come you can pick up something so heavy?" he asked.

"I am an android. My strength is many times that of a human," Data said.

A loud groan echoed through the metallic hull as another wave gently rocked the ship.

"I will be okay. I need your help, Timothy. Then we will both get out of here," Data said. "I will count to three."

Data took up a position next to the beam. He slipped his hands underneath so he could get a good grip. While he could lift such a heavy object, Data had left out the part about what a strain it was on his system.

"One. Two. Three!"

Data pushed the beam off Timothy. The boy wriggled free and rushed to the designated spot.

With one hand, Data tapped his combadge.

In one fell swoop, Data dropped the beam. He was at the boy in two long strides, scooping him up as the ceiling began to collapse.

"Energise," Data ordered.

A moment later, they reappeared on the Bridge of the Calypso.

Timothy scowled.

"Are you alright?" Data asked.

Timothy stepped back, eyeing the crew with a leary look. As a child that had grown up in Starfleet, Timothy usually knew to trust people in a uniform.

But these people were strangers. They had arrived after his home was destroyed in the middle of a strange place.

And they had lied to him.

"This isn't the Enterprise," Timothy said, looking around at the small ship.

Tasha smiled.

"I bet you know a lot about ships," Tasha said as she knelt down, putting herself at eye level with Timothy.

She rummaged through the pockets sewn into her uniform.

"And I bet you're pretty hungry," Tasha said.

She pulled a protein bar, a packet of applesauce, and half a cheese sarnie from her uniform.

"Remind me next time I'm stranded – I want to be on your team," Miles quipped.

Timothy reached for the food and then stopped, his hand hovering just above them as he weighed the safety of taking food from strangers.

Suddenly, he retracted his hand.

"I don't know you," Timothy said. "Mum says I'm not supposed to."

Tasha nodded in understanding.

She cracked open the protein bar. Tasha broke off a piece and popped it into her mouth.

"It's safe. I promise," she said.

She knew just how it felt to be wary of travellers offering food. But Tasha also recognised the boy needed to eat.

And Beverly and Tasha had decided it would be a good idea to tag team – Tasha would keep him focused on food while Beverly conducted a second, more in-depth medical scan.

As soon as she was complete, she nodded to give Tasha the all clear.

"It's really good," Tasha said, hoping to convince him.

With great hesitation, Timothy reached for the protein bar and took a small bite.

Tastes okay. He thought.

In fact, it tasted better than okay.

Once the initial test bite was out of the way, Timothy inhaled the rest of the bar. It had been ages since he'd had a meal and his stomach hurt from hunger.

"Can I have that too?" he asked nervously as he eyed the rest of Tasha's emergency snacks.

She smiled.

"It's all for you," she assured him.

While Timothy dined on the meagre offerings, Beverly tended to his scrapes and bruises. Data used the time to set up a child safe seat for the ride home.

Just off the Bridge of the Calypso was a small seating area. It was typically reserved as a makeshift canteen, but the table could be converted into a bed if needed – sort of like a sleep pod.

If the journey out was any indication, Data anticipated they would hit some rough turbulence on the way back.

After converting the space, Data used the replicator to produce water and additional snacks for Timothy. He also activated one of the tablets on board so Timothy could occupy himself with a game for the trip.

Satisfied with his work, Data returned to the Bridge to fetch the boy.

Data's face fell as the boy eyed the space with horror.

"You mean I have to ride back here all by myself?" Timothy said.

It was the worst possible thing he could imagine after spending so many hours trapped and alone on the back of the Vico.

After things got bad, Timothy's mother had sent him to the first level. They were evacuating most of the crew and children to that deck.

Timothy's father had sent him to the back deck one with the other children – and it was the last time Timothy had seen his father.

"I'll stay with you," Beverly offered.

Timothy retreated behind Data, clutching the seam of his trousers.

"It will be alright," Data assured him. "Doctor Crusher is a friend."

A powerful shockwave rocked the Calypso.

"Adjusting dampeners and attempting to compensate," Data announced.

His fingers danced across the helm as he worked to calculate all of the necessary information in order to avoid colliding with any of the derelict ghost ships drifting around out there.

They had at least another hour of travel through the Black Cluster before they would be free.

Due to the unique gravitational distortions, use of the ship's warp capabilities was not advised.

The ship bumped against a large hunk of metal that had likely been the underbelly of a ship at one time.

An ear-splitting metal on metal screech lasted for several agonising seconds.

"Almost clear," Data advised.

"Shields down to thirty-eight percent," Worf reported.

"Can we reroute power from the environmental system to the shields?" Riker asked.

They were already diverting most of the ship's power just to keep the deflector functioning.

More power to the shields.

Timothy's chest grew tight. His mouth went dry. A chill ran down his spine.

Another small wave rocked the Calypso – just enough to create a bumpy ride.

Timothy panicked.

He squeezed his eyes shut as his mind was flooded with memories of those last, awful moments on the Vico.

People were shouting. There were consoles that overloaded and a great, terrible noise as the lower decks ruptured.

And all the adults just kept shouting 'more power to the shields.'

Beverly noticed Timothy was struggling. She could see his breathing was laboured.

"Hey, I'm here," she said in a soothing voice.

Timothy bolted.

He rushed clean past Beverly and out onto the Bridge. He paused and looked up at Worf.

"You should not be here," Worf said.

Timothy backed away from Worf's large, intimidating figure – and bumped right into Tasha.

He startled and scrambled under the rail, running right past Commander Riker and onto the centre of the Bridge.

Timothy tripped as another gravitational wavefront shook the ship.

He picked himself up and made a beeline for his target.

Data had heard Timothy rush onto the Bridge. He was keenly aware of the boy's movements. Yet he kept his eyes on his console.

They had a ways to go before clearing the Black Cluster and everyone was counting on Data to get them out to safety.

Timothy was almost to his target when a pair of strong arms scooped him up, pulling him away.

"Hey there, big fella," Riker said in a jovial voice. "Why don't you sit in the big chair with me?"

Riker grunted as Timothy kicked him in the gut. He wiggled out of Riker's arms and rushed over next to Data.

He buried his head against Data's side and clutched his uniform.

He was not going anywhere.

"Rerouting power from the environmental system to the shields," Data announced.

Timothy suddenly felt embarrassed. Data hadn't even acknowledged his presence.

Yet Data also had made no move to shoo him away.

It wasn't like when he wanted time with his parents, and they were busy. No one was telling him to go play in the other room while the adults talked.

Timothy was just about to run away and curl up on his own when Data pulled Timothy up into his lap with one hand without tearing his eyes away from his work.

"Forgive me, Timothy. I must manually compensate for our lack of sensors," Data said.

I'm in the way. Timothy thought.

"You may sit here with me," Data said, picking up on Timothy's apprehension.

He's just being nice. Timothy lamented.

"Do you see that blue light in the corner?" Data asked.

Only Timothy assumed Data was talking with the other adults. He tried to make himself as small and silent as possible.

"Timothy? Do you see that blue light?" Data inquired.

"Uh, m-me?" Timothy stuttered.

"Yes. Can you please monitor that and let me know if it turns red?" Data requested.

Timothy immediately perked up.

"Yes, sir, Mr Data, sir," Timothy answered.

From the back of the Bridge, Tasha couldn't help but grin.

Data was a popular fixture with many of the children onboard the Enterprise – and it wasn't just because he could pick up a desk like it weighed nothing.

He recognised and validated their feelings. He understood that children appreciated the chance to help in a meaningful way.

Data would probably cite all the hours he spent researching human development.

But Tasha knew it was more than that. Sure, Data was equipped with a wealth of knowledge. But more importantly, he understood how to use that information.

Data was a natural. It was just the type of person he was.

Timothy kept his eyes trained on the console screen for the entire ride back. He didn't want to let Data down.

He watched the small blue light for any sign of change.

It made him feel like he was helping and, most importantly, it took his mind off the journey. He was so occupied with his role that the bits of space debris and generally bumpy ride barely bothered him.

Unlike their first jaunt through the Black Cluster, the return trip was significantly less turbulent. There were still waves that rocked the Calypso.

Yet they were a far cry from the powerful gravitational fluctuations that had previously threatened to destroy the ship.

It was a good thing too as their shields were low.

In fact, Timothy was so excited to be a part of the team that he didn't even look up or register that the Enterprise herself had come into view.

"Timothy," Data whispered as he indicated to the viewscreen.

"I can't. I'm watching the sensor," Timothy said.

"Timothy, it is alright. You may look up for a moment," Data said.

Seeing the Enterprise for the first time on approach was one of those moments in life that simply could not be relived.

There was a sense of awe flying toward such a large, historical vessel and knowing that was where you got to park.

Every officer assigned to the Enterprise had experienced it. Whether it be the humblest Ensign coming aboard to join the sanitation crew or a high-ranking Fleet admiral paying a visit – the experience was the same.

The Enterprise in all her glory was enough to make anyone stop in awe as she took their breath away.

"Timothy, look up," Data urged.

"Data! Data! It's red!" Timothy said.

He glanced back over his shoulder at Data.

"Look," Data said, pointing at the viewscreen.

Timothy turned and gasped.

It was the Enterprise.

Data had been telling the truth.

Timothy had learned all about the USS Enterprise in school and her long history as the flagship. He knew that in 2293 the old Constitution-class Enterprise had been involved in the First Khitomer Accords. He remembered hearing all about Captain Kirk and Ambassador Spock.

He knew there had been five Enterprise's in total and that each of them had played an important role in history.

And Timothy liked history. It was his best subject.

Timothy gulped.

"It's the Enterprise," he said, overcome with awe.

"Yes. And that is where we are going," Data replied.

A blinking light in the corner caught Timothy's eye. It was the light he had been assigned to monitor.

"Data, it's red!" Timothy said.

"Thank you," Data replied.

"Data! Data! It's red!" Timothy repeated. "What do we do?"

"That is a proximity sensor," Data explained.

Data spun in his seat and pointed to Commander Riker.

"As soon as Commander Riker gives the order, we will initiate the docking sequence," Data said.

Riker grinned and leaned forward in his seat.

"Timothy," he began. "Would you take us in?"

Timothy's eyes went wide as he looked back at Data.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do," Timothy whispered.

"I will help," Data assured him.

Timothy gave Commander Riker and nod in the affirmative before he and Data spun back to the console.

"Begin docking sequence," Riker ordered in a booming voice.

It was simple enough. Now largely free of the Black Cluster they could rely on their sensor readings once more. The ship was more than capable of completing the task on autopilot.

However, that still needed to be activated and it was the perfect job for Timothy.

Data's fingers were a blur as he punched in his access code, clearance for docking, and the proper alignment.

"Whoa," Timothy breathed.

"Now, press here," Data instructed. "And then here."

Timothy followed the instructions to the letter. As soon as he activated the sequence, there was a chime.

"Welcome back," Captain Picard's voice rang out over the communications system.

Captain's log, supplemental. The away team dispatched in search of the Vico has returned from the Black Cluster. The Vico has been located within the star system. She is destroyed beyond any hope of salvage. Most alarmingly, my team reports the cause is unknown.

Our search uncovered one survivor – a young boy who has no doubt been through quite an ordeal. We have begun the process of counselling the boy with regard to the tragedy.

In time, we hope he can provide clues as to the Vico's demise.

"Can you turn your head to the side for me?" Beverly asked.

Timothy was in Sickbay accompanied by Beverly, Tasha, Counsellor Troi, and Data.

In fact, he had refused to let go of Data's hand ever since their return. Geordi was eager to talk with Data and get his hands on the information they'd collected.

However, all of that was on hold.

"You've got some bumps and bruises but you're going to be alright," Beverly explained. "Now this is just a little something to help with the pain."

Having raised her own son she understood the importance of keeping Timothy apprised of what was happening around him so that he didn't feel left out.

Beverly clicked her device to bring the medicine down to a child's dose and then administered a hypospray.

"There, does that feel a little better?" Beverly asked.

Timothy nodded.

Over in the far corner, Deanna and Tasha were chatting.

"We managed to recover the main computer core. Geordi's pulling the logs now, trying to sort through all the mess," Tasha explained.

Deanna's brow furrowed as she studied the boy.

"He's been through so much," Deanna remarked.

"What do you sense from him?" Tasha asked.

She understood there were stages that the boy would go through as he processed his trauma. Until Geordi pulled the logs, there was really no telling how long he'd been on his own or just what stage in the process Timothy was at.

Deanna shook her head.

"Denial," Deanna said without hesitation. "He still hasn't come to terms with it. It's like a mental block preventing me from reading any further."

"I'd like to conduct a cognitive interview," Tasha shared.

Deanna frowned.

"Tasha, he's… well this is so early," Deanna protested.

She could sense Tasha was conflicted herself.

"I know," Tasha acknowledged. "But something destroyed that ship. And it was unlike anything we've ever seen before."

She dropped her voice.

"I don't know what we're dealing with. And I can't protect us if I don't know what's out there," Tasha said quietly.

She was weighing the risk of slowing Timothy's recovery against the safety of everyone on the ship.

Tasha, Deanna, Data, and Timothy slipped into one of the private exam rooms adjacent to the main part of Sickbay.

He was sitting atop a cot, still maintaining a firm grip on Data's hand.

"Hi Timothy, my name is Tasha. I'd like to ask you some questions if that's okay?" Tasha asked.

He glanced up at Data as if he were looking to him for advice on how to proceed.

"Would you like to help Tasha, Timothy?" Data asked before quickly adding. "It is okay to say no."

Timothy wasn't entirely convinced.

"Tasha is a friend," Data assured him. "You can trust her."

Timothy looked her up and down with heavy scepticism. He wasn't sure about trusting anyone anymore. He had trusted his mum and dad, his teacher, and Captain Lewis on Vico.

And in the end, they hadn't kept him safe.

Yet Timothy didn't want to let Data down. Data had asked him to help, and Timothy was keen to please.

"Okay," Timothy agreed.

Tasha nodded.

"Whenever you want to stop – you just say so, okay?" Tasha explained.

Timothy squared his shoulders.

"We were in the Black Cluster. I don't know where they came from," Timothy said immediately.

"I'd like you to close your eyes and think back to being on Vico before anything bad happened," Tasha said, guiding him with her voice.

Timothy squeezed his eyes shut.

"They had a big ship. And they kept shooting us," he went on.

"None of that's happened yet. Think about before," Tasha encouraged, keeping her voice smooth. "Where were you before it all started?"

Timothy took a shaky breath as he let his mind drift back.

"I'm at home with mum," Timothy said. "We're doing maths."

"That's very good," Tasha said. "When do you first realise something was wrong?"

Timothy scowled.

"Mum's not supposed to be on duty. But they want her to go back to Engineering," Timothy explained. "She's not happy. She looks mad."

He could clearly see just how upset she was.

"What happened next?" Tasha prompted.

"The alarm is going off. It's loud," Timothy recalled.

Timothy made a face.

"What is it?" Tasha asked.

"Funny orders. I can hear Captain Lewis's voice. They're telling us to shelter in place. But Mum and I are in the corridor, and I don't understand," Timothy said. "She wants me to go to the Bridge. But we aren't supposed to go there."

Tasha, Deanna, and Data watched as Timothy grimaced.

"What is it Timothy?"

He shook his head.

"It's okay, Timothy. You can tell us," Tasha said.

"Bobby. That's our neighbour. He's yelling. One of the officers in a red uniform is talking about Cardassians and Bobby's yelling at him to stop," Timothy recounted.

He could see it clearly – the adults were starting to fight. They were in disagreement about what was happening. Timothy remembered his mother didn't seem to care – she was marching him to the Bridge where his father worked.

"There are people running everywhere. Something hit the ship, and everybody's falling," Timothy continued.

Timothy paused as tears started to leak out.

"People are hurt. I want to go back home. Mum is angry," Timothy sobbed. "She says we have to get to the Bridge."

"You are doing great, what happened next?" Tasha asked.

Timothy shook his head again. He didn't want to think back. It was scary.

Data gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Mr Florence is bleeding. He's not moving," Timothy said. "And-and mum and I are arguing. I want to go home."

"What does your mum do?" Tasha asked.

"She tells me not to look," Timothy cried, wiping away his tears.

He could clearly recall his mother instructing him to stay focused. But it was difficult not to look. All hell had broken loose on the Vico.

Timothy had no way of knowing it – but plenty of the adults did.

The ship was being torn apart. They were alone in a remote, largely uncharted part of space. Escape pods were useless in the Black Cluster.

There was nowhere to escape to, and they wouldn't survive long with so much debris.

Timothy could clearly remember the fear and urgency as people rushed about, trying to stay alive and make it to the Bridge.

It was the safest place on the ship.

"I think we've gone far enough," Deanna said quietly.

"When we get to the Bridge, mum… she, she gave me a hug," Timothy said, the tears flowing free now.

It was the last time he'd hugged his mother.

"She looks at me kinda funny," Timothy said, shaking his head. "Like she's going away. And then she tells me to get moving like she's mad at me."

He paused as a fresh wave of tears overtook his little body.

"And she tells me not to look back," Timothy cried.

"Tasha," Deanna said in a warning voice.

But Tasha wasn't ready to stop. She could sense they were in the right headspace.

"Timothy, can you smell anything?" Tasha asked, redirecting him.

He seemed to calm a bit.

"Uh huh. It's hot. Like the burners at school," Timothy said.

Data and Tasha exchanged a knowing look. They recognised he was probably smelling exposed circuitry that had overloaded during the incident.

"That's great, Timothy. And what do you hear?" Tasha pressed.

"Shouting. Everybody's shouting. More power to the shields!" he yelled. "That's what they keep saying."

"What do you see?" Tasha asked.

Timothy stopped and shook his head. He wasn't ready to talk about that.

"No," he pleaded.

"It's alright. When you look around, what do you see?" Tasha pressed.

Timothy's breathing became laboured.

"I don't want to be here," he said. "Data? Data get me out of here!"

"I am right here with you," Data said.

Timothy's eyes flew open and he flung himself at Data.

"I don't want to go back," he sobbed.

"You are very brave, Timothy," Tasha said, rubbing his back.

His father had told Timothy that he was too old to cuddle anymore, but Data didn't seem to mind. Timothy buried his head against Data's shoulder as he cried.

He may have seemed out of it – but Timothy could hear everything the adults were saying.

"Tasha, we can't do this again," Deanna said.

"Not right away," Tasha agreed. "But we need to know what happened. If there's something out there-"

"They beamed over!" Timothy said wildly. "They had purple helmets on and phaser rifles. I saw them! I saw them!"

"Who did you see?" Data asked.

Timothy sat back and wiped his eyes.

"They didn't see me," Timothy said.

Data cocked his head to the side.

"Who?" Data inquired.

"They didn't see me," Timothy repeated as he buried his head against Data's shoulder.

Tasha, Beverly, and Deanna were standing just outside the private exam room.

"Just awful," Deanna remarked sadly.

"Poor kid," Beverly added. "Thinking your mother was angry with you in her last moments."

She trailed off and shook her head.

"She probably knew getting him to the Bridge was the safest option for survival," Tasha said. "And she likely knew she was breaking regulations. Gods."

A pained look crossed Tasha's face as she trailed off.

Beverly lifted her eyebrows.

"Well, I can't say I wouldn't do anything different. Not if it were my child," she said, looking up at her friends. "I mean – could you?"

Deanna shrugged.

"I don't know. I'm not a parent," she confessed.

Deanna turned her attention to Tasha. She could sense Tasha was on edge.

"Hey, nobody blames you. You're just trying to protect us," Deanna said.

"No, it's not that," Tasha said in a faraway voice.

"Tasha?" Beverly asked, putting her hand on Tasha's shoulder.

"I'm fine," Tasha lied, pushing aside her feelings.

Time for that later. Tasha said to herself.

"So what's the plan then?" Tasha asked, redirecting their conversation to the matter at hand.

"I've given him a mild sedative. He really needs to sleep," Beverly said.

She sighed.

"I really don't have a reason to keep him here and I think finding a place for him that's more like home would be better than settling him in Sickbay," Beverly advised.

The door slid open and Geordi came in with his tablet in hand.

All three women looked up from their huddle.

"Have you found anything in the logs?" Tasha asked.

"Sort of. More questions that answers," Geordi answered honestly. "But for now, I think I've got some information that may help."

He tapped his tablet to pull up the relevant files.

"His name is Timothy Brennan. He's nine – nearly ten," Geordi explained.

"When's his birthday?" Deanna asked.

Geordi paused.

"In two weeks," Geordi said. "I spent a dozen birthdays away from one or both of my parents. I couldn't imagine losing them like that right before turning ten."

"We'll have to make sure we do something," Beverly resolved.

"Anything else you learned?" Deanna asked.

"His mother was the ship's systems engineer," Geordi informed them.

The three women shared a sad look.

"Explains how she knew to get him to the Bridge," Beverly said.

As a mother, Beverly was struggling to come to terms with knowing that Timothy's mum probably knew the ship was about to be ripped apart.

It the worst nightmare for a parent serving on a starship.

"His father was the ship's Second Officer. He was most likely on the Bridge when, well, whenever it happened," Geordi added. "I'm still trying to pull medical logs so I can get you his file, Doctor."

Beverly wanted Timothy's logs so she could be sure and check for any diseases, allergens, or other relevant information for his health.

The four of them turned back to the window that looked inside.

Timothy was nearly catatonic as Data held him. He'd had a good, long cry and now just felt numb.

"That little boy is going to need a lot of love," Deanna said.

"I don't want to break things up. But I could really use your help with the Vico's computer core," Geordi said quietly.

The core was a mess. It had taken Geordi considerable effort just to pull the limited information necessary to identify Timothy.

Captain Picard was concerned about the status of the Vico.

Something had destroyed the ship and he wanted answered on a cause.

It would take hours to rebuild and comb through the Vico's computer core. Even with a full team, it was a huge ask.

With Data's help, they could likely cut that time in half.

"Are you hungry, Timothy? Would you like to get something to eat?" Tasha offered.

She offered him a warm smile.

"Something a little better than applesauce and ration bars?" she teased.

Timothy nodded shyly.

Tasha offered him her hand.

"We can go to the best place on the whole ship. It's called Ten Forward and there's a big window that looks out into the stars," Tasha said.

Timothy seemed to relax a little, at least enough for Data to put him down. He did want to see Ten Forward.

"Do they have food?" he asked.

"Yeah," Tasha grinned. "They have the best food on the whole ship."

The pang of hunger (and temptation of food) was more than enough for Timothy to take hold of Tasha's outstretched hand.

"Come on, you tell me what your favourite flavour of milkshake is," Tasha said.

But as she moved for the door, Timothy stayed firmly planted at Data's side.

"You're coming too, right?" Timothy asked, looking up at Data.

Data hesitated.

"We can share a meal another day. I have to go to work now," Data said.

Timothy dropped Tasha's hand and backed up until he was flush against Data.

"I have to go to work now and help Mr Data," Timothy declared. "I'll eat later."

Timothy had seen his home torn apart. The adults that were supposed to keep him safe, the officers he'd been told to trust had all been killed.

He was too young to understand his parents had done everything they could to keep him safe. In Timothy's view, mum and dad had abandoned him.

Data was now the only adult Timothy trusted.

Tasha and Data stared at each other, wordlessly debating how to proceed.

"Timothy, would you like to stay with Data a little bit longer?" Deanna asked.

Timothy nodded.

Data opened his mouth to protest, but Geordi anticipated his train of thought.

"We'll take care of it. You just join us when you can," Geordi said.

Geordi returned to Engineering with Miles who had been recently released from Sickbay and cleared for limited duty.

As soon as they swept into Main Engineering, the team stopped and looked up.

Everyone's faces fell.

"Oh," Reg said. "Y-y-you brough Chief O'Brien."

"Where's Data?" Sonya asked.

Suddenly she squeaked.

"Not that we're not happy to see you, Chief," Sonya added quickly.

"Yeah! Glad you're alright," Reg said.

Miles laughed and waved his hand.

"No need to stroke my ego. I know you were all hoping Data would be here," Miles said.

"Sorry, Chief," Wesley apologised.

Miles hissed as Wesley gripped his shoulder.

"Not there," he choked out.

"Sorry," Wesley said quickly.

Geordi stepped up to the centre console and put his hands on his hips.

"Well? Where are we at?" Geordi asked the room.

He had been gone for nearly an hour up in Sickbay and was hoping there was some progress.

No one responded.

"Guys?" Geordi prompted.

"We've got a bit of a problem," Wesley said.

"I ate at a restaurant like this on Deep Space 3 once," Timothy said as he dipped his chips into his strawberry milkshake.

Chewing a mouthful of potato and ice cream, he glanced around at the space.

"It wasn't this nice though," Timothy added. "Or this big."

"I've never been to Deep Space 3," Tasha said. "What's it like?"

She was hoping to get Timothy talking.

Timothy shrugged as he popped another dinosaur shaped nosh bean nugget into his mouth.

"I dunno," he said.

"Deep Space 3 has one of the largest Cetacean Ops offices in all of Starfleet," Data said.

As an exobiologist, Data was familiar with the installation.

Timothy's eyes lit up.

"Yeah!" he agreed. "It's huge. My dad took me to see it when we were there."

Suddenly, his expression changed.

"Anyways," he said sadly.

He didn't want to think about his dad. Or the last trip they had taken together as a family. Timothy had been younger, and his parents had still been happy then.

"When did you go Mr Data?" Timothy asked.

"It has been eight years, seventy-four days, nine hours, and forty-six minutes," Data rattled off.

"On the Enterprise?" Timothy asked.

"No. On another ship. I have only served on the Enterprise for two years, seven months, twenty-one days-"

"How do you know that?" Timothy asked.

Timothy struggled to keep track of even ten minutes when his parents told him to get ready in the morning.

"I am android," Data answered simply.

"Why?" Timothy asked.

Data blinked.

"I just am," Data said.

Timothy was halfway through his second helping of chips when he started to nod off.

"I believe he has fallen asleep," Data whispered.

He could detect the change in Timothy's breathing.

Data looked to Tasha.

"Is there a place for him to sleep?" Data asked.

"Yeah, can you carry him? Let's get him over to Beverly's," Tasha said.

Since Doctor Crusher had family quarters and was already acquainted with Timothy, it seemed the natural choice to house him there until they could determine a more permanent setting.

It would be another twenty-four hours before the Enterprise would be within range of Starbase 514. From there they'd be able to make contact with the base commander and determine who was Timothy's guardian now.

In addition, Deanna thought it might be good for Timothy to get to know Wesley. Wesley had been a bit younger when Jack died. But he knew what it felt like to lose a parent and could be a great resource for Timothy as he navigated his grief.

By the time they reached Beverly's quarters, she already had a space set up for the boy. There was a spare room in the Crusher family quarters that Beverly and Wesley had used as a part office, part storage.

Beverly had hauled all the extra crates out and set up a bed for Timothy.

She'd done her best to make it seem cosy with the limited time and options available. She wasn't exactly sure what Timothy liked. He'd had to leave his whole world behind on the Vico – including all of his personal possessions.

Beverly figured a trip to the ship's stores was in order in the morning. Timothy could pick out some new clothes for school and books and toys to replace what he'd lost.

"Just in here," Beverly said, waving Data through.

Data laid Timothy down on the bed. Beverly slipped off his shoes before tucking him in.

Then she paused, staring down at the young sleeping boy.

"Doctor?" Data prompted.

"It's just, well… it wasn't all that long ago Wes was that age," Beverly commented as she brushed Timothy's hair back away from his face.

She sighed.

"You know sometimes I wish I had your ability to remember every moment in time, Data," Beverly said. "Because the days when they're little... they go by so fast."

"Everything alright?" Geordi asked when Data reached Engineering.

"Mmm hmm," Data replied.

"How's the kid?" Geordi inquired.

"He is sleeping," Data answered.

Geordi stopped and looked up from his work.

"I meant emotionally," Geordi clarified.

"Ah," Data said, now understanding. "I do not believe I am qualified to answer that question."

Data keyed in his access code and began to skim through the information.

"Well he seems pretty attached to you," Geordi remarked.

Data frowned.

"I know," Data said.

Ever since Timothy had rushed out to find him on the return trip back from the Black Cluster, Data had realised the boy had grown quite fond of him. He suspected it had something to do with being the one to rescue him, but Data couldn't be sure.

Somehow he suspected there was more to it.

Timothy seemed to have trouble trusting adults – except for Data.

"He is sleeping at Doctor Crusher's. I must confess that I am worried how he will react when he awakens," Data said. "A part of me wishes he had developed that attachment with Doctor Crusher instead of me."

It wasn't that Data didn't want to be there for the boy. Rather, Data was concerned he would make a mistake. Doctor Crusher had far more experience as she was a parent herself and had raised a son after the loss of his father.

Data was terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing.

But to Data's surprise, Geordi laughed.

"I don't really think you get a choice, Data. He's made his - and it's you, buddy," Geordi said.

A look of concern crossed Data's face.

"Timothy will require a tremendous amount of support and patience. He needs someone to help guide him through his grief, someone that will love him and care for him," Data said.

"And what makes you think you can't provide that?" Geordi asked, challenging Data's self-doubt.

Data paused.

"I am not a parent," Data finally replied, falling back on the first reason that came to mind.

Geordi quirked an eyebrow.

"You dream about baby socks," Geordi threw back.

Data's brow furrowed as he looked up to meet Geordi's gaze.

"Geordi, caring for a child is an enormous responsibility. It is far more than infantwear," Data said. "One must see to the physical, mental, and emotional wellbeing of a child. It requires a great deal of attention and support.

A smile began to creep across Geordi's face.

"Infinite patience. Understanding. Persistence and the ability to listen," Data continued. "It is far more than simply-"

Data stopped as he caught site of Geordi.

"What?" Data asked.

"Nothing," Geordi said, throwing his hands up.

They both turned back to their work. But Geordi's attempt to hide his laughter was hard for Data to ignore.

"Geordi," he implored.

Geordi stopped typing and grinned.

"It's just… I mean you know enough to be a little intimidated by it all. The very fact you have to ask the question is proof you understand just how important this is," Geordi said. "Don't you see?"

Data's brow furrowed with worry.

"Don't underestimate yourself, Data," Geordi said. "For what it's worth – I think you'd be great."

"I am afraid I will make a mistake," Data admitted.

"Data, it's okay if you're not ready. My mother says nobody ever is," Geordi explained. "But if you want my opinion, I think you're going to make a great dad someday."

Data relaxed a little. Geordi bit back a grin as he saw Data's expression shift. He was making the same face he did whenever he was pleased with himself – somewhere between satisfaction, astonishment, and embarrassment.

"I hate to rain on your parade, but this is not good," Geordi said, directing Data's attention back to the work at hand.

They still had a huge task in front of them.

"Whatever hit the Vico must have discharged some kind of EM pulse targeting the computer banks," Geordi said.

Sonya, Reg, Miles, and Wes had been over the core twice.

"I would estimate nearly eighty-three percent of the records have been lost," Data said, scanning the team's initial findings.

Geordi grumbled.

"It looks like that includes all of their sensor logs," he muttered.

That meant they had nothing to go on.

"I suppose we could look at our own sensors from Calypso," Geordi theorised. "At least we could refer back to the structural analysis and surface scans."

For several minutes they worked in silence.

"Geordi? Did you ever experience a traumatic moment as a child?" Data asked.

He couldn't stop thinking about Timothy.

"Well, you know I was caught in a fire once when I was kid," Geordi said. "I was about five. It was before I got my first VISOR."

It was one of Geordi's earliest and strongest memories.

"I was only in there a couple of minutes before my parents got me and pulled me out," Geordi said.

There were times he could still taste the acrid, burning smell of that fire.

"Nobody got hurt but," Geordi began to say.

He paused for a moment.

"But that was the longest couple of minutes of my life," Geordi concluded. "It was a long time after that before I could even let my parents get out of earshot. I absolutely needed to know they were both there, you know?"

Data shook his head.

"I did not have a childhood," Data said.

Geordi put his hand on his hip.

"Data, you may not have had the same upbringing. But you still experienced what it was like to be new in this world, to learn, to grow emotionally, Geordi protested.

Geordi glanced around to check that they were alone.

"And you know what it's like to learn to cope after a traumatic event," Geordi said in a low voice.

He wasn't privy to all the details of Data's history with Bruce Maddox – but Geordi knew enough to understand Data had survived an ordeal.

"It is not the same," Data pointed out.

"But you know how it feels," Geordi argued. "You know how important that support is from someone who cares."

"Timothy no longer has that kind of support," Data lamented.

"He's gonna need it, Data," Geordi said.

It was close to 22:00 hours by the time Data got back to his quarters.

He was mentally exhausted.

Tasha was curled up on the sofa in an old, oversized jumper and nursing a glass of whisky as she poured over her tablet. It was difficult to try and identify who or what may have caused the damage to the Vico.

Data slipped out of his boots and stepped over to the replicator to snag a cup of hot chocolate.

"Any luck?" Tasha asked, greeting Data without looking up.

"Very little information remains on the computer core from the Vico," Data said.

He sat down on the sofa next to Tasha. He took her drink and tablet and set them down on the coffee table.

"You are frustrated," Data observed.

"I'm just having a hard time reconciling the evidence from the ship with what Timothy claims happened," Tasha confessed.

"You believe Timothy was dishonest," Data realised.

Tasha rocked her head back and forth.

"Not necessarily," Tasha said. "I think he's struggling to process the events he witnessed. I don't think he's ready to tell us what happened just yet."

"But?" Data prompted.

He could tell from the way Tasha spoke that she was leading to something.

"But we really need to figure it out. And soon," Tasha said.

She snuggled up to Data, resting her head against his chest as he caressed her back.

"I've never seen anything like this, Data," Tasha said, her voice full of concern.

It was disturbing knowing something was out there that could inflict that level of devastation and then seemingly disappear.

"You are worried it is the Romulans," Data said, sensing where Tasha's thoughts were headed.

"This is way, way more advanced than anything the Romulans could do," Tasha remarked.

"You are probably right," Data acknowledged.

Tasha sat back and made a face.

"I know I'm right," she teased, poking him square in the chest.

"Of course you are," Data said, scooping her up.

Data left his hot chocolate abandoned as he carried Tasha into the bedroom.

An hour later, they were nestled down and spooned up against one another beneath the covers.

"Data?" Tasha asked.

"Hmmm?" he responded in a lazy voice.

"You were really good with Timothy today," Tasha said.

She rolled over so she could face him properly and reached up to tuck his hair back.

"I mean it. You were so sweet," she said.

She caught his hand and brought it to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Data's wrist.

"You're always so sweet," Tasha said.

It had been a few weeks since the incident with Ira Graves. That ordeal had left its mark on Data's psyche and Tasha sought every opportunity she could to remind him that he was still the same dear, tender-hearted android she had fallen in love with.

Data pulled Tasha close and buried his face in her hair.

"I love you," Data whispered.

"I love you, too," came Tasha's muffled reply.

Data was somewhere between waltzing with Ginger Rogers and tap dancing on a cloud when a shift in temperature registered on the bioplast on his arm.

Exactly three seconds later there was another change.

This time, it was accompanied by a small voice.

"Data," Timothy whispered, tugging on the edge of the blanket at the foot of his bed.

Data stirred, straining his ears to listen in an attempt to determine if he was truly hearing his name or if it was merely a dream.

"Data," Timothy repeated with more urgency.

Data sat up and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the lack of illumination.

There at the foot of the bed was Timothy.

Timothy was about to speak when Tasha sat up. Data's movement had been enough to rouse her.

"Hmm? What's going on?" Tasha asked in a hazy voice.

Timothy looked terrified.

"I-I-I'm sorry," he apologised.

He hadn't expected to find anyone else in the room.

Timothy had woken up in Beverly's quarters. He didn't recognise the strange room and didn't want to wake Doctor Crusher.

He'd had a nightmare - and a bad one at that.

Using the ship's computer, Timothy had requested the location of Commander Data. The lighted guidance system had led him straight to Data's quarters.

Timothy started to back away toward the door.

"It's alright," Tasha assured him as she threw off the covers and rolled out of bed.

Data was up in a flash.

"Hot chocolate?" he suggested.

"And then it happened again," Timothy said.

Data, Tasha, and Timothy were sitting around Data's table where the hot cocoa and popcorn were never in short supply.

"What happened again?" Data questioned.

"You know, the stuff from earlier," Timothy said.

He stopped and picked up his mug, supporting it with both hands as he chugged down his drink.

"Can I have some more hot chocolate?" Timothy asked.

"Of course," Data said.

He picked up his mug and turned back to the replicator to refill the drink.

"When you say the stuff from earlier, you mean on the Vico?" Tasha asked.

"Uh huh," Timothy said.

"You're talking about when the boarding party came onto the ship?" Tasha pressed.

"Yeah," Timothy answered.

Tasha kept her questions upbeat. She didn't want Timothy to feel like he was being interrogated. But he seemed keen to talk about it.

"What colour did you say their helmets were again?" Tasha inquired.

"Green," Timothy said. "Bright green. They were big and scary. And they had disruptors. They were blasting everywhere!"

As Data returned with a fresh steaming mug of hot cocoa, he caught Tasha's eye.

"Oh, I thought you said the helmets were purple," Data said innocently.

"Yeah," Timothy replied quickly. "That's what I meant."

Data and Tasha nodded politely – they didn't want Timothy to feel like he was being questioned.

"I'm not lying. I saw them," Timothy insisted.

"We believe you," Tasha assured him.

Timothy's changing story only confirmed her suspicion that he was mentally blocking whatever had really transpired.

It must have been really traumatic. She thought.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," Timothy said.

"That is alright," Data said. "We are not mad. I am relieved you feel comfortable enough to come seek us out. It is a good thing to talk about what scares you."

Timothy shrugged.

"It was weird waking up and I wasn't in my bed," Timothy confessed. "I have bunk beds at home."

He paused just long enough to stuff a fistful of popcorn in his mouth and wash it down with a swig of hot cocoa.

"I don't usually get scared, you know," he said.

He felt it was important for them to understand that.

"I'm almost ten. I don't have nightmares like babies," Timothy asserted. "Well, most of the time I don't. I'm not a little kid anymore."

Tasha reached across the table for Timothy's hand.

"Everybody has nightmares from time to time," Tasha said softly. "It's all part of how we deal with scary things in our lives."

Tasha smiled.

"I have nightmares too," she said, hoping Timothy wouldn't feel so alone.

"Oh! That's why you're here," Timothy said in a voice that indicated he was relieved.

He sighed and wiped his brow dramatically.

"Phew!" Timothy said. "I was worried you guys were married or something."

Timothy relaxed back into his chair as he munched on the bowl of popcorn. It was like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Timothy, why would it bother you if we were married?" Data asked.

He knew there had to be a reason and it could provide important insight into Timothy's mental state. Data was accustomed to most humanoid children expecting a two, three, or four parent household.

Timothy frowned and looked back and forth between Data and Tasha.

"Oooooh!" he remarked. "You probably don't know because you're an android."

Timothy leaned forward and cupped his hand over his mouth like he was about to share a deep secret.

"Married is what happens when you grow up," Timothy said. "It's punishment for adults. Or at least, that's what my parents always say."

Data was surprised.

"Punishment?" Data inquired.

"Oh yeah," Timothy said between bites. "You gotta nag about who didn't clean up socks or change the replicator filter. You spend all your time fighting or working. Or fighting about working. That's why I don't ever want to grow up."

Data and Tasha looked to one another, wordlessly conveying the same thought.

From Timothy's account, it seemed all had not been well in the Brennan home.

"Timothy, what did your mummy and daddy fight about?" Tasha asked.

"You know, adult stuff," Timothy answered. "They always send me away to go play in my room."

"Have they ever fought with you?" Tasha inquired.

She was mindful to keep her voice even, her body language open, and her questions vague enough to let Timothy guide where the conversation went.

Investigating abuse was one of the most unpleasant aspects of Tasha's job. Fortunately, child abuse was a rare thing. Nonetheless, Tasha had an obligation to check it out.

"Normal stuff," Timothy replied cryptically.

"Like what?" Tasha asked.

Timothy scrunched his face up as he thought back to the last argument he'd had with his parents.

"Well I'm almost ten and my bedtime is 19:30 hours. D'nila is a girl in my class. She's a whole year younger than me and she doesn't have to go to bed until 21:00 hours," Timothy grumbled.

He scowled and flopped back against his chair in a huff.

"It's not fair," he muttered.

"That doesn't seem very fair," Tasha said, empathising with him. "Anything else?"

"I want to play Parrises Squares next year. Dad says I'm too little and mum won't sign the permission form. They're always ganging up on me like that," Timothy fumed.

Tasha was breathing a little easier.

"Hmmmm," Tasha nodded in feigned agreement.

Timothy finished his second hot chocolate with a satisfied 'ah.' Then he wiped his mouth with his sleeve. The combination of a full tummy and warm milk was starting to make his eyelids droop.

"It would perhaps be best if we returned you to Doctor Crusher's now," Data said. "I will take you there."

"Can I stay here?" Timothy asked, swaying in his chair.

It didn't take long to convert Data's sofa into a makeshift bed. They would have to speak to Beverly in the morning and come up with a plan for more permanent accommodations.

Data was sure that as soon as Timothy met Wesley he would be keen to return to the Crusher family quarters.

As he had drifted off to sleep, Timothy had asked Data if they could have a 'boys only' sleepover tomorrow.

It was evident Tasha's presence was a problem.

Data and Tasha stood on the far corner of the room as they formulated their plan.

"I don't think he was being abused," Tasha said. "But clearly his parents weren't happy with each other. I suspect we'll learn more once we're in range of Starbase 514. I'll pull their records, see if I can find any family counselling or divorce inquiries."

She paused.

"That might explain this," Tasha said.

"Did you notice his tense," Data said.

"Yeah, all the stress from the last few days. Maybe we should arrange to take him to the holodeck tomorrow. Or down to Cetacean Ops? He seemed to perk up at that," Tasha said.

"No, Tasha. His tense," Data said.

Tasha turned to Data and wordlessly indicated she didn't follow.

"Timothy is still referring to his parents in the present tense," Data said. "I do not believe he has accepted their deaths."

"Grief is complicated," Tasha replied.

"Indeed," Data agreed. "We will need to speak with Counsellor Troi and Doctor Crusher in the morning. I will send a note to Beverly to inform her that Timothy is safe."

"He's pretty fond of you," Tasha said.

Tasha looped her arm through Data's and rested her head against his shoulder.

"I think for the time being it may be a good idea to keep our relationship under wraps," Tasha suggested.

Data was shocked. He was clearly ruffled by the idea.

"Tasha, we just-"

He trailed off as he pulled her into a tight, desperate embrace.

They had just gotten one another back after the incident with Ira Graves. Data wasn't ready to press pause.

"We have been through so much and-" he protested.

"And if Bruce Maddox, Romulan conspiracies, killer drones, or mad scientists can't separate us – then nothing will," Tasha assured him.

She planted a quick kiss on the tip of Data's nose and grinned.

"He needs you," Tasha said. "Besides, I'm not going anywhere."

Tasha looped her fingers through Data's hand and then glanced over at Timothy's sleeping form.

"I think the idea of parental figures together or marriage is hard for him. You two have a rapport and I don't want to add any stress. Timothy needs to feel safe somewhere – right now, that's with you," Tasha said.

Data pulled Tasha around the corner into the bedroom.

She opened her mouth to protest, but Data was too quick. He captured her lips in a long, slow kiss.

When they broke apart, he lingered – resting his forehead against Tasha's.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," Tasha replied, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "And I will see you tomorrow on duty, Commander."

"Goodnight, Lieutenant," Data said, brushing the back of her hand with a kiss.

He felt a pang of remorse as he watched her go.

"Boarding party?" Picard asked in astonishment.

"I think that's very unlikely, sir," Worf said.

Jean-Luc turned to Tasha.

"Worf is probably right, but I think we can't rule out anything yet," Tasha said slowly.

"We've managed to pull about twelve percent of the ship's computer core. My team is still working, and we think we may be able to eek out another four or five percent," Geordi said.

His expression darked.

"But the rest of the core is damaged beyond any hope of salvage," Geordi explained.

Jean-Luc sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he sat forward and folded his hands on the table.

"So we have a Starfleet science vessel destroyed in a manner unlike anything we've ever seen, a computer core that's been damaged in a way that prevents analysis, and in twenty-four hours we are no closer to finding an answer as to what killed all those people?" Picard asked the room.

Riker was the first to find his voice.

"Yes, sir," Riker answered.

"Need I remind you all of the possibility of a looming Romulan threat?" Picard asked.

The table fell silent.

"And the boy?" Picard asked.

"He is with Counsellor Troi at the moment," Data answered.

Data, Beverly, and Deanna were standing outside a view window at the school.

Inside the primary school students were listening quietly as Mr Fraser, their teacher, read aloud. In the corner, Timothy was playing by himself.

"It is going to take time," Deanna said. "But school can help. Being around people his own age and having a routine will be good for him."

Data frowned as he watched Timothy playing alone in the corner.

He knew exactly what it felt like to be surrounded by peers in an academic setting and still feel alone. It was not unlike his own experience at Starfleet Academy.

"He is playing alone. The other children are not interacting with him," Data observed.

"Yes," Beverly lamented.

She had to admit she was a bit disappointed. She was hoping the other children would have warmed up to Timothy.

Unfortunately, it seemed they were a bit insular.

This did not go unnoticed by Mr Fraser.

"Timothy, would you like to join us for our story time?" he asked.

Grumbling, Timothy set down his sculpture pieces and came to sit with the rest of the children.

"Oh dear," Deanna remarked, saddened to see the other children scoot away and turn their backs on him.

"Dara and her brother found themselves in the land of Tagas where the ruler, Elamos the Magnificent, had proclaimed as law 'no children will be tolerated within the Great Kingdom!' When Dara saw the proclamation she laughed," Mr Fraser read aloud.

Timothy moved closer to two of the children, craning his neck to see into the book they were looking at. He was still waiting for his own school supplies to be replaced – something Deanna was coordinating with the Head Teacher.

Ms Rogers had promised to have them ready after lunch.

When the kids noticed Timothy trying to share, they moved further away.

Discouraged, Timothy quietly got up and walked back to the corner to resume playing by himself.

"Timothy, we are done with sculpture for now. You may share with me," Mr Fraser offered.

"It's not finished," Timothy said without looking up from his work.

"Timothy-" Mr Fraser began to say.

"It's not finished!" Timothy snapped.

Before Deanna could stop him, Data was already heading through the door.

This is not acceptable. Data thought.

"Data wait!" Deanna called after him – she knew his presence would be a disruption.

Data knew this too.

In fact, he was counting on it.

The moment Data strode into the classroom, everything came to a halt.

"Mr Data! Mr Data!" the kids shouted, scrambling to their feet to swarm their favourite guest teacher.

Data was a popular fixture at the school. Between his art classes, volunteering in the Arboretum, and his occasional guest lessons on everything from exobiology to music, Data was a favourite.

Data wasn't rude – he said hello.

But in spite of them tugging at his sleeves and gripping his feet, Data had only one target in mind.

"Are you here to play with us today?" Harry Bernard asked.

"Can we make macaroni masterpieces again?" wee Olivia Palmer pleaded. "My mummy said she loved my penguin."

"I would like to go to the Arboretum," declared Sutor, a young Vulcan boy that idolised Data.

"We will go another time," Data said. "Excuse me."

He sat down across from Timothy at the sculpture table.

"Hello. May I join you, Timothy?" Data asked.

For the first time all morning, Timothy stopped and looked up. He nodded.

"Are you attempting to recreate the Dakkaran temple of Kural Hanesh?" Data asked, knowing full well that was what the pieces were intended to construct.

"Isn't it great?" Timothy asked. "There's the big corridor where everybody came through. And this is the altar."

"You have put a great deal of work into this," Data said, surveying the piece.

Timothy stopped.

"You hate it," he said.

Data cocked his head to the side.

"You are making an unwarranted extrapolation," Data said.

Timothy blinked in confusion.

"I mean to say, no. That is not the case," Data clarified.

"No Mr Data, play with me," Harry begged as he tugged on Data's arm.

"I would like to join," Sutor said, pushing his way between the children for his chance to join Data.

Timothy shrank back into the crowd as the other children crowded around the table.

"Excuse me, we will play another day. Today I have come to spend time with my friend, Timothy," Data said.

All of the kids stopped and turned around to look at Timothy with surprise.

"He's friends with Mr Data?" one girl whispered to her classmate.

"The new kid?" another one asked in a hushed voice.

Data waved Timothy back over to the table.

"Kids, why don't we continue our mythology story time?" Mr Fraser called out.

None of the children moved.

Data looked around the other children, scanning their faces.

"I believe it is now time for you to return to your lesson," Data said.

The kids scrambled back over to the mat where they plopped down without complaint. Mr Fraser wasn't sure if he was frustrated or pleased.

Fraser was grateful the kids had complied and returned to their lesson. However, it had always bothered him a little that Data commanded such great respect in the classroom without even trying.

While the rest of the class resumed reading, Data and Timothy worked on his sculpture largely in silence.

Timothy was still a little embarrassed about what had happened with the other children.

He hoped Data hadn't seen it.

In fact, he was so concerned with trying to impress Data that he was having a hard time relaxing.

Timothy stacked two pillars on end and then attempted to add a floor tile above. He was working so quickly. His tongue was sticking out, his brow furrowed in concentration as he rushed to completion.

In his haste, Timothy neglected to support the opposite side.

The tile came crashing down and knocked over a portion of the structure that had already been completed.

"I can't do anything right," Timothy grumbled.

He flopped back and willed himself not to cry. He was already an outsider compared to the other children and didn't want to be mocked for crying too.

But it was too late. Hot tears were already spilling out of his eyes.

"It is alright. We can simply rebuild," Data said.

Timothy wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve.

"It's too late. I ruined it. I ruin everything," Timothy sobbed.

Timothy's outburst did not go unnoticed. Unfortunately, this coincided with the conclusion of mythology story time which marked the start of lunch.

Children could eat together in the classroom or join their families in the canteen or at home. Most of the children this age remained in the classroom with lunches prepared by their parents.

Data could hear the other children were starting to whisper.

"He's crying," one of the children remarked.

Giggling followed.

Sutor approached the table after asking politely if it would be alright to come over.

"I will be right back. I will return with lunch for us," Data said, slipping away to grab something from the nearest replicator.

There was one just outside in a small lounge. It only took Data seconds to select an appropriate meal for Timothy.

When he returned, he found the two boys sitting opposite one another in silence.

As Sutor nibbled on a plomleek wrap, he stared at Timothy.

"May I ask you a question?" Sutor inquired.

Timothy scowled.

"Why are you crying?" Sutor asked.

"I'm not! I'm not crying! You're a liar!" Timothy responded hotly.

"All evidence would point to a different conclusion," Sutor responded in a neutral tone.

He paused to chew on a bite of food before continuing with his questions.

"Is crying not seen as a sign of weakness among humans? Particularly for boys like you?" Sutor asked.

He wasn't trying to be rude.

He was simply a curious Vulcan child.

All of his education on the subject of human literature and customs indicated that tears and an emotional outburst were negative qualities that denoted a character flaw.

Data realised it was time to intervene.

"Crying is a natural human expression of emotion," Data said. "It is neither bad nor good. It is simply a form of emotional response."

Sutor frowned.

"Is not such a display considered inappropriate? It serves no purpose. And does it one not risk allowing emotion to overwhelm them?" Sutor asked.

Data realised he'd placed himself in the middle of a sticky situation.

Sutor was just at an age where he was learning to suppress his own emotions as was the custom for a Vulcan child. Data didn't want to exert undue influence on that tradition.

Sutor was one of his finest students in art class, so Data attempted to find an explanation that incorporated that interest.

"Human emotions are like colours. A full palette allows one to fully explore that range. And friendship, like a canvas, offers a safe space in which to explore those colours or emotions," Data said.

Data paused.

"I have found in my own experience that while crying is not a sensation I would describe as pleasurable, it can bring a great sense of relief," Data said.

Sutor quirked an eyebrow at Data.

"You have cried?" Sutor inquired.

"Yes," Data nodded.

"But you are android," Sutor said, struggling to reconcile this information.

Data nodded.

"That is correct," Data said.

Timothy's tears seemed to slow.

"Y-you cry too?" Timothy asked.

"Yes," Data said with a small smile.

"Mr Data, could I see you for a moment?" Mr Fraser asked.

He wanted to talk with Data, Deanna, and Beverly quickly about an education plan for Timothy and square away some details in terms of his housing situation.

"Excuse me," Data said, leaving the two boys alone.

For a few moments the two boys ate in silence – Sutor quietly eating his plomleek wrap and plums while Timothy picked at his own meal.

Data had selected a well-balanced meal that would meet all of the nutritional needs of a growing human child. However, Timothy didn't think much of poached tilapia, spinach, beans, and a whole grain cracker.

"You are friends with Mr Data," Sutor said, impressed.

"Yeah," Timothy said. "We had a sleepover last night."

For the first time all day, Timothy felt sure of himself.

"Mr Data's pretty neat, huh?" Timothy asked.

"He is well-liked among our class," Sutor answered.

Data returned a moment later.

"Is there something wrong with your lunch?" Data asked, spying the largely uneaten box.

"I'm not hungry," Timothy lied.

Following the conclusion of the school day, Deanna had taken Timothy to Ten Forward for a chat. He devoured two cheeseburgers, a slice of cherry pie, and a chocolate milkshake in a matter of minutes.

Timothy was a bright child and outwardly appeared to be in a good mood.

However, Deanna was dismayed as she sensed that his trepidation about processing the trauma of the Vico's destruction was stronger than ever.

Timothy wasn't ready to confront the death of his parents or the loss of his home.

He projected confidence and an almost aloof demeanour. But Deanna could feel that he was conflicted. It was all an act. Timothy had built a wall around the truth of what he was feeling inside.

And she knew that he wouldn't be prepared to go beyond that until he was somewhere that felt safe.

To complicate matters, Data was the only person Timothy really trusted.

So as they talked and enjoyed a chocolate sundae to round out the afternoon, Deanna used her tablet to relay a message to Data and Beverly.

Data would be sharing his quarters for the time being.

Tasha put her hands on her hips. She frowned and exhaled audibly as she surveyed the room. Data and Tasha had rearranged and arranged again all of Data's furniture in an effort to find a space they designate for Timothy.

"I'm not gonna say it," she muttered.

"I know," Data said, understanding just where her thoughts were headed.

For months Data and Tasha had been at a standstill when it came to their living arrangements. Neither of them was ready to give up their personal quarters.

Tasha's rooms were larger and featured a window. She also had a bigger storage room that could be converted into a small office if necessary.

Data's quarters were smaller but housed his workstation. It would never fit in the tiny office space of Tasha's rooms. His own place lacked a window and only had a small closet that was barely big enough to house his painting supplies.

In the event they ever settled on moving into Tasha's place, Data's own living quarters would be converted into a proper Second Officer's office.

However that meant losing one thing – Data's bathroom and it's luxurious oversized tub.

It was quite a hot commodity on a starship where most officers had to share a small shower with a roommate.

"I don't want to be the one to say it, Data. But I know we talk about wanting a family someday and there is nowhere in here to put a child," Tasha remarked.

"Tasha, the point is moot," Data said.

He stopped and turned back to her.

"I fully intend that we would put in a request for proper family quarters before then," Data said.

Tasha made a face.

"You know the only thing harder to come by than a bathtub on this ship is family quarters," Tasha pointed out.

It was true.

Family accommodations were never guaranteed. Space was a luxury, and many families were forced to make do, converting office space into another bedroom if they were lucky enough to be a small family.

Families with multiple children often had to get creative when it came to bunk arrangements.

There was a reason many families sought to transfer to starbases or planetary outposts – especially if they had more than one child.

Before Tasha could reach for the coffee table, Data snatched her wrist and pulled her flush against his body.

"I happen to know the First Officer," Data said in a low voice against Tasha's ear. "And I do believe he will prioritise any request that ensures we remain in service on this vessel."

Tasha just shook her head, laughing.

"We have plenty of time to work out the details," Data said.

He wrapped his arms around her waist.

"And I know that when the time comes, we will be sure to have adequate-"

They were interrupted by a chime at the door.

Data was surprised to find Siton and T'ren – the parents of Sutor – at his door.

"Commander, may we speak with you?" T'ren inquired.

Data and Tasha sat across the table from Siton and T'ren.

The silence was unnerving.

"Are you sure I cannot get you a beverage?" Data asked again.

"No," Siton responded.

"We are not thirsty," T'ren said.

Once more, the two couples fell silent.

"This is awkward," Siton said after a few seconds.

You can say that again. Tasha thought.

"We have come to speak with you regarding our son, Sutor," T'ren explained.

"Ah, yes!" Data said brightly. "He is in my art class. We spoke earlier today at the school."

T'ren and Siton did not appear pleased.

"That is what we have come to discuss," T'ren said.

"Our son, you see-" Siton began.

"He is, well," T'ren turned to her husband, struggling to find the right words.

"He is crying," Siton finished.

Data's heart sank.

He was concerned about how the other children would take his attention for Timothy.

"Oh dear," Data said. "I did not mean to hurt his feelings, I was merely attempting to-"

Siton put up his hand.

"Please do not misunderstand. His expression of emotion is not caused by your actions in the sense of harm," Siton clarified.

The two Vulcans shared a concerned look.

"He said is expression himself. That he is crying as part of an emotional release," T'ren shared.

"As you know, our son thinks highly of you," Siton said.

"And our culture strives to suppress our emotional response," T'ren added.

"Forgive me, it was never my intention to influence his development in such a way," Data said.

He felt terrible.

"But the fact remains that you have," T'ren said.

Under the table, Tasha reached for Data's hand. She gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Siton cleared his throat.

"It is our understanding that you have recently become the guardian of a young human child in Sutor's class," Siton said.

"Oh we're not actually, erm," Tasha trailed off.

She realised how foolish she sounded. Her interruption had only reinforced Siton and T'ren's low opinion of their parenting abilities.

"Sorry, go on," Tasha said quickly.

"As you are new to this and lack any practical experience in raising a child we have come to offer you some advice for the mutual benefit of both boys," T'ren said.

As soon as the door closed, Tasha collapsed against Data in a fit of laughter.

"Tasha, this is not funny," Data said.

He was deeply distraught after their conversation with Siton and T'ren. Data knew because of their Vulcan tradition that they were not angry with Data.

They merely wished to establish expectations should Sutor wish to befriend Timothy.

And they genuinely believed they were offering helpful advice.

In a matter of thirty minutes, Data had gone from feeling confident about his ability to care for a child to feeling completely lacking.

"I must radio Counsellor Troi and Doctor Crusher. They are planning to bring Timothy here for the evening," Data said.

Tasha tried to stop him as he went for the computer.

"Data-"

"No, no. I must warn them. Timothy cannot be left here in my care. I am clearly an unsuitable guardian," Data said.

"Data wait!" Tasha insisted.

She rushed over to his workstation and plopped down on the surface, blocking his access to the computer.

Data made a face. He reached for his combadge – but Tasha snatched his wrist to stop him.

"Wait," she repeated.

"Tasha I am-"

"Perfectly capable of caring for Timothy," Tasha said, cutting him off.

Data was unconvinced.

He had felt so sure of himself earlier during lunch at the school. Now the conversation with Sutor's parents was a bitter reminder that he lacked the same experience.

"I may be able to emulate human behaviour and read every available parenting guide, yet it is insufficient when compared to the lived experience of-"

"Stop," Tasha ordered.

She slipped her fingers under Data's chin, lifting it until he met her gaze.

"There's a little boy that needs you right now," Tasha said.

"But-"

"But what?" Tasha asked as she sat back. "So Sutor went home after school and had a nice, long cry. What's the harm in that? Huh?"

"Sutor is a Vulcan," Data countered.

"And they have every right to raise their son in accordance with their customs," Tasha said, putting her hands up.

She wasn't trying to disrespect their culture.

"But Data, he's a little boy. Kids try new things. It's a part of being a child," Tasha said. "Sutor is probably going to live to be two hundred. And someday he'll look back and be able to talk about his experience."

"What if does not wish to return to his parents' logical upbringing? What if this has sparked something within him?" Data asked, his mind beginning to spiral.

Tasha simply chuckled.

"So what?" she said with a nonchalant shrug.

Data was horrified.

He opened his mouth to protest, but Tasha cut him off.

"Data, I sincerely doubt that will happen. And if it does – what is so bad about that?" Tasha asked in disbelief.

Even among the Vulcan officers on the ship, Siton and T'ren had a reputation for being staunch traditionalists.

"Eventually all human children play with fire or skin their knees. Sometimes little Andorians wear hats to hide their antennae. My office keeps fielding calls because Echo and Tuna don't want D'uana down in the tank," Tasha said.

"Lieutenant D'uula's daughter?" Data asked, confused.

"Mmm hmm," Tasha responded.

"But she is a Caitian. Why would she want to go to Cetacean ops?" Data asked.

"And she happens to be friends with Echo and Tuna's daughter – but don't tell them that," Tasha added quickly.

Data's head was spinning.

"Data, my point is that kids are going to be kids. Sutor's not going to suddenly fail school or not succeed in life because he spends a little time crying one afternoon," Tasha went on.

Data appreciated what Tasha was getting at. However, he still wasn't sure.

"Thank you, but I feel that I am not ready to take on the responsibility of parenting Timothy-"

"You're not parenting him!" Tasha insisted.

She took hold of Data's hand.

"You're just looking after him for a little while until we can figure out what comes next," Tasha said.

"Right," Data said.

At 16:00 hours, Data swung by Ten Forward to pick up Timothy, who was just wrapping up his appointment with Deanna.

Guinan was just clearing away the stack of plates from his feast.

She shook her head and smiled.

"Kids at that age. You know usually you're begging them to finish their plate. This little fella's got quite an appetite though," Guinan said.

Data frowned, looking at the mountain of empty plates, to Timothy, and back to the plates again.

"Said he didn't eat lunch," Guinan added.

Data's face darkened.

"He told me he was not hungry," Data said, concerned he made another error.

Guinan paused and set the tray down on the bar.

"Maybe you just need to find something he likes?" she suggested.

"It was a well-balanced, nutritious meal designed to provide all the essential dietary requirements for a growing human child," Data said.

Guinan raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Data, please tell me you did not offer than boy one of your nutrient supplement cubes," Guinan said.

"No," Data replied in earnest. "It was poached tilapia with spinach and beans. And a whole grain roll for fibre."

Guinan nodded slowly as she processed this.

"Data, kids aren't really all that concerned with their fibre intake," Guinan said.

Data sat back and considered this, tapping into his informational engrams on the subject of children's dietary requirements.

Then he leaned in close.

"But Guinan, I have read that it is a common problem for many humanoid children," Data said.

She chuckled.

"Oh believe me, it is," Guinan acknowledged. "I'm just saying they don't see it that way. You have to try and balance keeping them healthy with keeping their meals interesting enough that they feel engaged."

"Would they not simply want to eat well in order to maintain their health?" Data asked.

Guinan blinked and kept her face neutral.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "Sometimes that's not enough."

"Then what would you recommend?" Data asked.

Guinan was, after all, the foremost parenting expert on the ship.

"Ask him what he likes," she replied.

"Guinan, I cannot serve him hot chocolate and popcorn in place of a meal," Data insisted.

"Try a peanut butter and jelly or a cheese and pickle sarnie," Guinan offered.

"Hmm," Data responded, lifting his eyebrows.

After brushing his teeth, Data explained their sleeping arrangements to Timothy.

Since Data needed his workstation at odd hours, Tasha had suggested they rearrange Data's bedroom as a space for Timothy.

Data could use his sofa for his rest programme and did not have to worry about waking Timothy if he was in the other room.

"You mean I get this whole room to myself?" Timothy asked.

"Yes," Data replied.

"I've never gotten to sleep in a big bed like this before," Timothy said. "Guess I really am growing up."

Data was going to question that assumption, but he thought better of it.

"Do you require a glass of water? Or a story?" Data asked.

Timothy's eyes lit up.

"A story?" he asked.

"Yes. Do you have a favourite?" Data asked

After he turned nine, Timothy's mum and dad had said he was too old for stories. He was encouraged to read on his own, but they would no longer read with him.

In fact, they spent most of their evenings busy with work they had brought home.

Timothy fumbled for an answer. It had been so long since anyone had offered to read him a story.

"May I read you one of mine?" Data suggested.

"Yeah!" Timothy agreed as he snuggled down under the covers.

Data sat down at the foot of the bed and cleared his throat.

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table," Data began to recite.

After two chapters, Timothy began to fade. His eyes grew heavy, and his breathing changed as he drifted off to sleep.

"Goodnight," Data whispered before retiring to the other room.

As sleep began to overtake his tiny body, Timothy's mind was focused on one thing.

Nobody likes me.

But everybody likes Data.

Timothy finished brushing his teeth and then cocked his head to the side as he studied his posture in the mirror.

"I am designed to exceed human capacity," Timothy said aloud, practising.

There was a soft knock.

"Timothy, your breakfast is ready," Data said through the door.

A moment later, Timothy emerged dressed and ready for the day.

"Good morning, Timothy," Data said, pouring them both some tea. "Are you ready for school?"

Timothy stopped and moved in an almost robotic fashion.

"I am ready," he responded in a stiff voice.

Data's brow furrowed as he watched Timothy's head shift and twitch.

"Timothy, are you feeling alright?" Data asked.

"I am functioning within established parameters," Timothy answered.

Established parameters? Data thought with a sinking feeling.

Data paused pouring and set the teapot down. He looked Timothy up and down from his unusual, jerking head motions to his black and gold jumper and trousers.

"I am an android," Timothy announced.

Data tapped his combadge.

"Data to Counsellor Troi," Data said.