A/N: This is the fic that launched the series!
Set immediately after Code of Honour. Thanks for reading.
Code of Honour is easily one of the most cringeworthy episodes of Trek (television, really).
No fic that mentions that awful episode could be complete without first acknowledging the rampant racism, sexism, and frankly awful trope writing of that storyline. Jessie Lawrence Ferguson (Lutan), Karole Selmon (Yareena), and Denise Crosby (Tasha Yar) bore the brunt of that script and gave wonderful performances despite what they had to work with.
With that said, Code of Honour gave us glimmers of something more between Data and Tasha. Yes, I will go down defending this ship.
This story is a part of a broader series, also called The Complication. This instalment covers the events of Series/Season One. It is my attempt to weave in missing scenes and a few original adventures to expand on the first season.
This story features angst and fluff in equal measures. It also serves as somewhat of a 'fix-it' regarding some of the cringier and confusing aspects of the show that haven't aged well and/or were later changed/retconned within the series itself.
It had been three days, eight hours, forty-two minutes, and seven seconds since Tasha had returned from Ligon II.
Presently, the Enterprise was en route to Styris IV to deliver the vaccine. Prior to this mission, Data had only read about Anchilles fever. While he had never witnessed it first-hand, he'd read enough to know that its particularly contagious nature coupled with the high mortality rate meant that Anchilles fever could sweep through a world in a matter of weeks.
Now the Enterprise had obtained a vaccine. Millions of lives would be saved on Styris IV—thanks to Tasha Yar.
Captain Picard bid his officers a good evening as their shift ended. Data would be on Night Watch on the Bridge later. That meant he had several hours of free time before his shift. Ordinarily, Data would hang around to run through his daily report with the relief officer, Lieutenant Baker, who would take over his position at Operations for the swing shift.
"My report is available on the console. Have a good shift, Lieutenant," Data said with a short nod before turning to the turbolift.
He hoped he could catch Lieutenant Yar in the turbolift to initiate a conversation. Data had been concerned about Tasha ever since her return from Ligon II—three days, eight hours, forty-two minutes, and seven seconds to be precise.
In a few long strides, Data was almost to the door. He was stopped just shy of his target by Commander Riker.
"You're off somewhere in a hurry, Mr Data," Riker said with a smile. "What's the rush?"
Data did not turn around. Tasha met his eyes briefly before casting her gaze down to the floor. The turbolift doors closed and Data knew he'd lost his chance.
"I have Night Watch on the Bridge later, sir. And several tasks to accomplish before then."
Riker chuckled as he slapped Data's back, wishing him a good shift. Data caught the next turbolift off the Bridge.
He'd calculated three hundred and twenty-six instances in which he could make contact with Lieutenant Yar naturally to initiate a conversation.
This was hardly his first attempt.
Data had first attempted to initiate conversation following their briefing at the end of the Ligonian mission. That had been one hundred and forty-three minutes after Tasha's dramatic return from the planet.
At that time, Tasha told Data that she wanted to return to her quarters and wished to be left alone. As he analysed her expression, he could see she was fatigued from the ordeal. Data also suspected that there was an emotional toll that Tasha did not wish to discuss publicly.
So, Data had waited several hours and then shown up at her door to try again.
"Yes, sir?" Tasha said as she stood stiffly in the doorframe.
"I came to see if you were alright," Data explained. "I have read that human emotions of past traumatic events can be triggered when—"
"I'm fine," Tasha said as she cut him off. "I'd just like to be alone."
Data had left that evening confused about their interaction. His behaviour had seemed to cause Tasha annoyance. Although he could not feel emotion, Data found that the idea that his actions had—in any way—caused Tasha frustration preoccupied his neural pathways.
Data wanted to ask Lieutenant Yar to help him understand how to avoid doing so in the future. Since she had been irritated by him coming to her quarters, Data had decided to find a time to initiate the conversation in a setting where they would be together naturally.
But Tasha had skipped her usual morning workouts on the holodeck. She had failed to show for the weekly poker game. She had even swapped security sweep locations with Ensign Hernandez.
All in all, Data had made one hundred and thirty-eight attempts thus far and none had been successful. While he had initially theorised this could be due to random chance, he was sooner beginning to think that Tasha was avoiding social gatherings altogether.
Now this latest attempt had been a flop too. And Data did not want Tasha to feel pressured or think that he was following her. So, Data decided to return to his quarters.
Sitting down to his workstation, he turned on some music to analyse and pulled up some light reading for the evening. There were reports of a Valdore-type Romulan ship that had been spotted several times in the last month deep into the neutral zone. Captain Picard had asked Data to review the report in anticipation that the Enterprise may be called to investigate further.
Data's door chime triggered, and he called out for whoever it was to come in.
It was Geordi.
"Hey, Data," Geordi greeted as he approached the workstation.
"Hello, Geordi."
Data could tell from Geordi's facial expression that he did not enjoy the music.
"Ugh, what is this?" Geordi said with a grimace.
"Thomas Tallis. 1525. Salve intemerata. A five part acapella choral arrangement that—" Data stopped himself. "Computer please cease playback."
"Thanks," Geordi said with a grin.
"Can I help you with something, Geordi?" Data asked as he set down his PADD.
"Yes," Geordi replied with glee. "I've got a new holodeck program and we've both got a few hours to kill before your shift begins."
"Geordi, how long is this program? Will we reach the conclusion by 20:00?"
"Well yeah," Geordi shrugged.
He paused and frowned.
"Wait a minute—you don't start Night Watch until 23:00. Got a hot date?"
"Hot date?" Data repeated blankly. "Oh, I see, a romantic outing with a highly desirable partner that—"
Data didn't finish his sentence.
"No, I do not," he added quickly.
Geordi threw a large coat and hat at Data.
"Then suit up and I'll see you down there," Geordi said with a large grin.
Data met Geordi outside of the holodeck. He was pleased to see that Miles O'Brien would be joining them. Data liked Chief O'Brien. He was a good friend and one of the few people that had treated Data as person rather than a machine.
He mused to himself it was probably for the best that he could not feel embarrassment. He'd gotten a fair share of looks from the Enterprise crew as he'd made his way to the holodeck. Data had identified the long blue frock coat as early 19th century British Royal Navy. The insignia designated a rank of Captain. The coat was long enough that it came down past his knees. It was heavier than a standard Starfleet uniform and Data found that movement was more difficult.
"Looking good, Data," Geordi said as he adjusted his hat.
"I do not understand the function of this bicorn hat," Data said. "It serves no practical purpose, and it appears to be only for ceremonial or decorative purposes."
"Well, you know what they say about big hats," O'Brien winked as Geordi chuckled.
"Is that humorous?" Data asked as he attempted to decipher what was funny about the hat.
There was a short pause. Data realised within 0.004 seconds this was not a topic that O'Brien or Geordi was willing to explain. Therefore, he accessed his neural network to understand the phrase.
"Ah! I see. A joke playing on a colloquialism regarding the size of male feet and their relationship to the size of—" Data stopped as his modesty programming took over.
Cocking his head to the side, his curiosity was now in overdrive. Within a matter of milliseconds, Data was overwhelmed with questions.
"Chief O'Brien, where did you obtain such information about my anatomical structure?" Data asked seriously.
Had Tasha said something? Data pondered.
Weeks earlier, Data and Tasha friendship hit a snag. The polywater incident had left Tasha feeling embarrassed. Data was simultaneously confused, hurt, and full of regret.
A dark thought crept into the back of Data's mind.
He considered the possibility that Tasha may have mentioned certain details about that sexual encounter to Miles O'Brien. Humans did have a predilection for engaging in what could be described as 'gossip.'
And Tasha considered Chief O'Brien a friend.
The idea seemed to contradict both her generally private nature and her request to pretend that their intimate coupling had never occurred.
It certainly wasn't the first time such a contradiction had cropped up in recent weeks.
On the whole, Tasha's behaviour had increasingly seemed to conflict with her instructions that 'it never happened.'
Since the polywater infection, Data had noticed Tasha observing him on thirty-nine separate occasions when she didn't think he was looking.
She frequently dodged him on the Bridge, become flushed in his presence, and avoided eye contact.
But on the rare occasions that Data managed to catch her gaze, it was as if Tasha struggled to look away. In fact, if he didn't know better, Data could swear she was staring at him with the same doe-eyed look as the night she'd invited to her bed.
What I want from you now is gentleness. And joy.
And love.
Data was no expert on human behaviour—but it seemed odd.
Polywater had played a strong role in their lack of inhibition that day. But Data felt like there was more. He had studied human behaviour for twenty-six years. Prior to the polywater incident, Data held feelings for Tasha—feelings he wasn't supposed to have as her commanding officer.
And Data suspected Tasha did too.
During the polywater, Tasha asked why they didn't confess their mutual attraction sooner—even go so far as to assure Data that she wanted to repeat their liaison.
Hours later, Tasha had angrily insisted that they forget the whole encounter. Her request was immediately followed by an unmistakable look of longing.
And sadness. Data recalled.
Tasha left Data utterly perplexed.
And now this.
"Chief, where did you obtain such information?" Data pressed.
Data had long suspected that his creator or creators were compensating for something when they built him. He'd heard comments and jokes from other men in the Starfleet locker rooms. Data was accustomed to a slap on the back or a rude hand gesture courtesy of his impressive anatomy.
But it left Data feeling uneasy. He didn't like to be the subject of gossip nor objectified.
"Whoa, Commander. It was just a joke," O'Brien said quickly.
Miles quickly apologised for making Data uncomfortable. Data assured him there were no hard feelings.
"Computer load holodeck program La Forge Ross Expedition," Geordi instructed the holodeck computer.
Stepping through the arch, Data noted the drop in temperature and a strong wind. The three men found themselves standing on the deck of a wooden ship.
"Get those sails down lads!"
"The Ross Expedition," Geordi explained. "Welcome aboard the Terror. She is a Vesuvius-class bomb vessel. Don't you love it?"
"I gotta hand it to you, Geordi," O'Brien smiled as he watched the crew work to pull the sails down.
"Mr Blanky, have you completed your report on this ice?" one of the men said as he approached Chief O'Brien.
Geordi turned to O'Brien to explain his role in the simulation.
"Thomas Blanky, ice master aboard the Terror," Geordi stated. "You're the best there is, and you'll need to determine if it's safe for us to proceed."
"Because of the pressure. You're worried the pack ice could crush the ship," O'Brien said, nodding as he finished Geordi's thought.
"Precisely, Mr Blanky," Geordi said before turning to Data. "And you are Captain Francis Crozier."
"So, I am the captain of this expedition," Data said as a statement of fact before turning to the crewman that had addressed O'Brien. "I will require a schematic of this vessel."
"Ah-no."
Geordi laughed.
"You're the captain of this ship but I'm the Commander of the expedition, James Clark Ross. And today we're going to find the Ross ice shelf."
Data enjoyed his time with Geordi and O'Brien. O'Brien had nearly fallen overboard after a particularly heavy gust of wind. While Data was not impacted by the cold, both of his companions had been awfully glad to feel their fingers again after the end of the program.
Their location of the ice shelf had taken a little longer to find than Geordi had anticipated, so Data bid a quick farewell to his friends.
He calculated he would not have sufficient time to change out of his costume and be outside of turbolift 14 when Tasha would emerge between 20:03 and 20:09. She would be on her way back from spending time with Doctor Crusher and Deanna Troi. Data knew the three women got together once a week in the evenings.
Data considered the possibility that the encounter would seem less natural given his attire. Deciding the reward outweighed the risk, Data set off at a hurried pace as his long legs carried him quickly to the corridor near turbolift 14.
Rounding the corridor, Data found himself face to face with Tasha sooner than he had anticipated.
"Excuse me, Commander."
Tasha tried to move past Data, avoiding his eyes.
While Data would normally have stepped to the left (knowing Tasha would go right), he instead decided to step directly in her path to simulate a naturally occurring 'run in.'
"Lieutenant Yar, may I speak with you?"
Tasha's whole body stiffened like a cat on edge.
"Commander, I'm off duty, I'm tired, and uh—"
Tasha stopped as she glanced up at Data and truly took in his strange appearance for the first time.
"And… what are you wearing?"
Even in spite of her irritation, Tasha was amused by Data's costume.
"Lieutenant La Forge, Chief O'Brien, and I just completed a holodeck program in which we replicated the 1839 polar exploration expedition of James Clarke Ross to—"
Data did not finish his sentence. He couldn't ignore the signs in Tasha's expression and posture. She was completely knackered.
Data stopped to shift gears.
"The mild swelling under the orbit of your eyes indicates that you are suffering from fatigue. I have no wish to detain you from rest, but would like to schedule a time to speak," Data explained.
He truly had no wish to delay Tasha from her rest—but desperately desired to clear the air between them.
"What's this about Data?"
Tasha crossed her arms, eyeing Data with hefty cynicism.
Data blinked. He was unsure if she was referring to his request to talk or the act of finding her in the corridor.
"You weren't coming from the holodeck this way. Your quarters aren't down here. I know you've been trying to catch me the last three days," she said, calling him out.
Tasha didn't like being followed. She didn't like to get emotionally attached. Most of all, she didn't have it in her to hurt her sweet-natured, naïve commanding officer.
"I would like for us to converse. Specifically, I have nine questions that I would like to discuss with you. I believe my actions have caused you frustration. I have harmed you. I value your friendship and I do not wish to lose your companionship," he explained in earnest.
"Nine questions?"
Tasha sighed softly and looked away while contemplating his request.
Looking back, she met his yellow eyes. Allegedly, he was emotionless, but Tasha felt like she could read Data's face. It was full of consideration and concern.
Tasha had been rather hasty in throwing him off. She had not given a moment's thought to Data's feelings on the matter. Having survived abusive boyfriends, sexual assault, and navigating her own awkward sexuality, Tasha realised that she owed Data open at honest communication.
"How about I stop by your quarters tomorrow at 19:00?" Tasha proposed. "But no hats."
Data pulled his hat off and nodded.
"Tasha, would it be alright if I changed our scheduled meeting to include eleven questions?"
"Goodnight, Commander," Tasha said as she moved past him and returned to her quarters.
Two hours, fifty-three minutes, and forty-one seconds later Data was seated in the big chair on the Bridge.
They were still about six hours away from reaching Styris IV. They were moving at Warp 4 and Data would oversee the initial deployment of the vaccine upon their arrival.
Data enjoyed the Night Watch. It had provided him with valuable command experience. He would often use the time to contemplate his own existence. After twenty-three years in Starfleet, Data had a decorated career and vast experience.
He valued his time on the Enterprise. Yet, Data often pondered if and when his time on the Enterprise would conclude and what his next path would be.
He knew he would outlive his friends.
Whenever the thought arose, he would rationalise it by reminding himself that their experiences would live on within his memory banks. Data's neural pathways began to reflect on the fact that Tasha could have been lost on Ligon II.
Although he could not feel sad, the thought of being unable to see or converse with Tasha could only be described as emptiness.
She had willingly accepted their offer of a fight to the death in order to secure the vaccine. Data had long admired Tasha's courage and selfless nature. Tasha Yar was ready to lay down her life if it meant saving others.
And that terrified Data.
A report from the back of the Bridge pulled Data from his thoughts.
"Sir, we're receiving a subspace communication from Styris IV. Infection levels have reached a critical state. One of the colonies has broken quarantine and is attempting to invade a non-infected colony. This is a disagreement over resources. They are concerned that without the vaccine, any infiltration will result in devastation."
"Ensign, what is the population of the colony and what is the size of the invasion force?" Data asked.
"The colony has a population of 228,300 people," Ensign Asfour explained. "The invasion force is estimated to be approximately 7,000 strong and armed with moderately advanced technology."
"Increase speed to Warp 7. This will move up our arrival time. Please alert the Transporter Room and Sickbay. They must be ready for immediate deployment upon our arrival," Data ordered.
Leaning back in the chair, Data accessed the files on the quarantined colonies and began to analyse all available information about their weapons specifications. His eyes darted back and forth. The colony had moderately advanced weaponry but nothing that would be a match for the Enterprise. The colony was shielded and would be capable of holding out against the invading force. As a precaution, Data would order a Security team to accompany the Medical team for distribution.
As the Night Watch shift wore on, Data continued to monitor the information coming from the planet. The images of the plague showed great suffering. More than ever, Data recognised the great significance of Tasha's role to secure the vaccine.
Three Days Earlier | Ligon II
"She won't budge," Tasha said as she entered the room. "She loves him. Without reservation."
Naturally, she turned to address everyone as she spoke. Making eye contact with Data, Tasha quickly snapped her head back to Captain Picard before adding, "and she thinks I love him too."
A hurt look of confusion fell onto Data's face.
"Do you?" Data asked.
Tasha held his gaze. Her face was unchanged, but Data could sense a subtle change in her eyes. He was unable to determine if this was embarrassment, what humans called 'smiling with their eyes,' or a hint of both.
"Of course I don't, Data," Tasha replied firmly. "As Troi pointed out to me, he's attracted to me. Sure, it feels nice be desired. but that's entirely different!"
Data looked away and cocked his head as if deep in thought as he tried to reconcile the contradiction between the tone of her voice with the barely perceptible curve of her lips into what humans called a 'smirk.' It was as if Tasha was amused by his question but the tone of her voice indicated professionalism and offense.
Present
"Computer please end music," Data said as the sound ceased.
Data had replayed his memory of the encounter on Ligon II a total of thirty-nine times.
He had found it was increasingly difficult to process at his maximum efficiency. A sizeable portion of his neural network had been overwhelmed in trying to understand the interactions that he and Lieutenant Yar had shared both on and after the events surrounding her abduction. Data was typically capable of processing several pieces of music simultaneously while reading or engaging in other mental processes.
He had run several self-diagnostics and determined he was not malfunctioning.
Although he could not experience anxiety, he would describe his current state as 'unsettled.' While his capacity to process information was still significantly higher than humans, it was eaten up by thoughts of Lieutenant Yar.
Closing his eyes, Data accessed his memory bank to replay the interaction that had left him the most puzzled.
Three Days Earlier
"How sad for you. You've lost everything." said Tasha. Her tone seemed to be a mix of both sympathy and disgust.
"I have my honour," replied Lutan, looking away.
"It's such a waste," Tasha said as she shook her head.
"Do you want him?" Lutan's ex-wife, Yareena, said turning to Tasha.
Lutan looked hopefully to Tasha.
Tasha cocked her head to the side with a look of unpleasantness.
"Eh… no," Tasha answered quickly.
Data determined the look was most certainly disgust. Her nose had wrinkled briefly much in the same way it had when Commander Riker had insisted that they try Akutaq at one of their poker nights.
Tasha shook her head.
"There would be—"
Tasha struggled to find the words. She bit her lip, her eyes flicked quickly to Data in the corner and then back again.
"Complications," Tasha settled on.
Present
When Tasha arrived to speak with Data, she greeted him professionally using 'Commander' and 'Sir' instead of his name as Data invited her inside.
"You appear to be uncomfortable," Data observed.
He registered a slight hesitation in her voice when she greeted him, and his suspicion was confirmed by her continued avoidance of eye contact.
"May I offer you something to drink?" Data asked as he indicated to the replicator.
"No. Thank you, Commander. I'd like to get straight to the point."
"Ah, yes," Data acknowledged with a controlled nod.
He watched as Tasha took a seat on his sofa and then down to the floor. Data cocked his head to the side as Tasha watched him with curiosity. He said nothing.
"Uh, Data?" Tasha prompted.
"I am sorry, Lieutenant Yar," he replied. "For the first time in my existence I am... unsure of whether I should sit next to you, on the chair to the left, or stand."
"Why are you unsure?" Tasha asked seriously.
"I do not wish to make you uncomfortable," Data confessed. "And I have observed that my presence causes you discomfort."
"Sit, stand, makes no difference to me," she replied as she shrugged. "But please hurry in making that—"
Tasha trailed off as Data sat down quickly on the chair to the left of his sofa.
"Right," Tasha nodded. "So, what's this all about?"
"I would like to ask you eleven questions to help me understand—"
Tasha waved her hand to stop Data before he launched into a lengthy explanation. She was beginning to regret her decision to come for a chat.
"What kind of questions? And why are they so important to you? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were feeling bothered," Tasha said as she raised her eyebrows.
"I am incapable of feeling."
Tasha's face soured. Data felt ashamed. He also recognised that Tasha was one of the few people that would not belittle or judge him for exploring that possibility.
Data took a deep, artificial breath.
"Both during and after the events on Ligon II I have found that a significant portion of my neural network has been preoccupied in an attempt to understand our… interactions. I do not want to lose your companionship and my analysis had led me to conclude my presence causes you frustration. I would like to understand why so that I may adapt my behaviour to ensure it does not continue to cause you discomfort."
Tasha listened intently. She suddenly realised her mouth was hanging open and promptly shut it.
"Furthermore," Data continued. "I hope that your wellbeing has not been damaged by the events that transpired on Ligon II. At times, I have struggled to comprehend the inconsistencies between your verbal and physical communication. It is my hope that in discussing these, you will help me to gain an increased understanding of your feelings. And what I may do to avoid displeasing you."
"My feelings?" Tasha said as she made eye contact with him for the first time.
Data nodded.
"My feelings," Tasha repeated, blinking in disbelief as she continued to maintain eye contact with the amber-eyed man.
Android. Tasha said, correcting herself.
"Not human emotion?" Tasha questioned.
Data had frequently expressed his desire to better understand and emulate human behaviour. But his wording had caught her attention.
"That is correct," Data replied. "While I have often vocalised my desire to be human through increasing my comprehension of human behaviour, in this instance my questions are specific to your feelings, Lieutenant, and how my actions impact those feelings."
Tasha panicked. Data's feelings? Fine. But her own?
Suddenly, Tasha's collar was too tight. Her mouth went dry. The very last thing she wished to discuss was her own feelings.
"I think this is a lot bigger conversation than we have time for," Tasha said as she slapped her knees and rose to stand.
"I fear I have made you uncomfortable again," Data said, studying her stiff body language.
"A little," Tasha replied dryly.
"I find I now have twelve questions," Data announced.
He glanced away toward the wall in an effort to limit the optical stimulation of all the sights and colours in his room. Data needed to focus on just one thing. His positronic brain was struggling to process anything other than conversation at hand.
"Data? Data?" Tasha said as she approached him, concerned.
Data snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at Tasha.
"I am sorry, Lieutenant. As I said before, I am unsettled by the amount of processing my neural net is utilising to—"
He trailed off.
"I find myself preoccupied and unable to, as you would say, 'shake it.'"
"I've never seen you like this, Data," Tasha said as she took in his appearance.
While he certainly could not naturally display confusion or concern, Tasha could read the signs in his expression that Data was processing a large quantity of information simultaneously.
It was a look that she'd seen come across his face before—typically on the Bridge—when Data would rapidly scan reports or schematics to theorise solutions for complex problems. His eyes were flitting back and forth at a rapid pace. His head movements grew erratic.
"Data, stop," Tasha said in what she hoped was a soothing tone.
"May I begin with my questions, or would that cause you further discomfort?" Data asked as his eyes continued to flit from side to side.
Data's hands trembled. His head body twitched.
Tasha slammed her combadge.
"Lieutenant La Forge to Data's quarters."
"You are concerned that this preoccupation will impact my ability to perform my duties," Data stated.
He shook his head as if he were shaking a bad thought away. Data dropped his gaze to the floor. The carpet was as rusty colour. He tried to focus all his attention on that colour and not the fact that he could see Tasha's shadow on the carpet.
"I think you should talk to Geordi about this," Tasha said slowly. "I'll stay until he gets here."
"I now have thirteen questions, Lieutenant," Data said.
He flinched as she reached for his hand. A part of Data wanted to melt into that physical touch—but he couldn't welcome it. He did not wish to make to Tasha uncomfortable.
Tasha knew Data was an android. She knew Data maintained that he could not feel emotion.
But there was something in the way his eyebrows were creased that made it look like Data was pleading for help.
"Would you like to ask one of your questions while we wait? A short one maybe?" Tasha asked in the hope that this distraction would bring Data back to normal.
"Yesterday you stated 'no hats' as a condition of our meeting. I have analysed over fifty years of fashion on Turkana and found no negative cultural associations to hats nor any negative cultural associations to hats among humans and humanoid peoples. Is your aversion to hats a matter of a personal dislike for them, do they evoke a feeling of unease, or am I not aesthetically pleasing in a hat?"
Data's question was in earnest. He was so damned sincere.
Tasha's mouth grew thin as she tried to supress a smile. She wanted to laugh but, Data was so deeply concerned that it tugged at Tasha's heartstrings.
"It was just a joke, Data. Banter," Tasha confessed. She felt an odd sensation in knowing that her casual comment had caused such a response. It was overwhelming.
The door chimed and Geordi came in bearing a look of concern.
"Data? Tasha?" Geordi asked as he took in their appearance.
Geordi stopped and took a step back.
"Whoa, Data! I'm sensing a marked increase in your neural network activity. Your energy output has increased, and it seems like your temperature regulation system is struggling to keep up with this increased activity."
Geordi's VISOR could read the increase in brain activity and heat coming from his friend. Geordi had never seen Data in such a state.
"What happened, Data?" Geordi asked as he ran his tricorder along the side of Data's head.
"I find I am struggling to control a sizeable portion of my processing capability," Data stated factually.
"So, what's happening? What's eating up all your processing capacity?" Geordi asked as he knelt next to Data and put his hand on his shoulder.
It wasn't like Data to offer such a vague explanation.
Data looked from Geordi to Tasha before returning back to Geordi. If Geordi didn't know any better, it seemed as if Data was judging Tasha's reaction or seeking permission before he responded.
"I would rather not answer that question," Data replied stoically. "I have run a complete self-diagnostic several times and found there is no malfunction."
"Well, can you give me a hint? I'm not sure how I can help if I don't know what's going on," Geordi said.
He tried to keep his reaction in check. Data was in distress and didn't need an exasperated tone.
"As I said, I am struggling to control a sizeable portion of my processing capability. I find that my neural net is... preoccupied with analysis over my behaviour surrounding some recent events."
This answer was less than satisfying to Geordi. It wasn't much to go on.
"What's on your mind then, Data?" Geordi asked in an attempt to get more information.
"I would rather not answer that question," Data repeated much to Geordi's frustration.
Geordi was at loss. There wasn't much he could do to help without more clues about what had triggered this response. He turned to Tasha for an explanation.
"So, you found him like this?"
"Lieutenant Yar did not find me like this," Data explained.
Tasha crossed her arms and huffed. She bit her tongue to keep from blowing. Geordi, too, was frustrated.
"Data," he said with a heavy sigh.
Data did not understand why his innocent comment would cause such agitation in both Geordi and Tasha.
"I am sorry. I did not anticipate that my explanation would cause annoyance to both of you. As I endeavour to fulfil a request from a friend, I find that the complexity of doing so is exacerbating all attempts to normalise my functioning," Data rattled off. "It is not my intention to cause either of you this frustration."
Tasha growled.
"Data, this is my fault," she said as she turned back to look at him. "I think you should set up a time to talk with Counsellor Troi about these questions. If you are exploring your humanity—"
"Respectfully, I am not exploring my humanity and Counsellor Troi will not be able to answer my questions."
Data was exceedingly polite as he interrupted—a fact that only further infuriated Tasha.
Geordi stood up and took a step back from the chair. He glanced back and forth from Data to Tasha, sensing there was something more going on between the two.
"So, these 'questions' are what's on your mind then, Data?" Geordi asked.
Data nodded. Geordi thought carefully about how to choose his next words.
"But you can't tell me what these questions are," Geordi said as his mouth curved into a frown. "And you think this may be a security risk, Tasha?"
Once again, Data interrupted to provide clarification.
"Correction," Data interjected. "I will not tell you. I feel that to do so would cause feelings of betrayal and I would prefer to avoid hurting a friend."
Tasha face flushed. She felt warm. Data was right. She was frustrated. But it was not solely his doing. She was also frustrated with herself.
She shifted uncomfortably, brushing the toes of her boot against the carpet while struggling for an explanation.
"This doesn't seem like an Engineering issue," Geordi said, wagging his finger between the two of them.
"I believe that is correct."
Suddenly, Data stood up.
"But there is an Engineering solution to this problem."
Without explanation, Data made a beeline to his workstation. There was something Data needed to see to before proceeding with his idea.
He opened the second drawer of his workstation desk and produced a small blue pouch. Data practically shoved it toward Tasha. He had spent hours determining the best materials and combination. Data had no desire to see that go to waste.
"This is a formulation consisting of ground Andorian moon rock, black rock salt from Suraya bay, as well as a mineral sediment known as 'Dead Sea Minerals' from Earth. If you place it in pool of water it is said that it can decrease stress, alleviate insomnia, and soothe pain in humans."
Bath salts.
"I thought you may find it useful following your fatigue and the stress of recent events," Data explained.
Tasha took the pouch from Data and blinked, unsure of what to say. Suddenly, she felt small and foolish for judging his intentions.
"Th-thank you," Tasha said with a genuine smile.
"And I think that's my cue," Geordi said as he backed toward the door.
"Geordi, please wait."
Tasha thanked Data and made a move to go, but Data stopped her too.
"I would like you to wait as well, Lieutenant." Data paused. "As… as this concerns you too."
Geordi and Tasha listened closely as Data explained his plan. He wanted Geordi to remove several of his memory engrams. But Geordi had been curious about the engrams—and wasn't keen to go poking around Data's brain without a good explanation for why it was necessary.
"Data, why do you want these engrams removed?" Geordi pressed.
Data's answer had been clinical.
Though Data had technically answered his question, Geordi suspected the answer was intended to fulfil the request without giving away the subject.
The engrams were in relation to a total of approximately nine weeks' worth of time. Data assured the two that critical mission files would be relearned following the procedure. Geordi had questioned why it was necessary to remove such a large span of his memory. Data explained that in the grand scheme of his positronic brain, nine weeks was infinitesimal.
"Moreover, the process of isolating and removing only the selected portions necessary would require approximately three hours. Rather, removing these nine weeks at once would only require about twenty minutes," Data explained to Geordi matter-of-factly.
"Why didn't you ask me to do this sooner?" Geordi asked.
He sensed there had to be reason Data had not previously made the request—a damned good one considering how much Data valued his autonomy and memories.
"Because these engrams contain memories I consider to be of great value," Data answered honestly as he met Tasha's eyes.
"Well, it seems like these are pretty important to you," Geordi surmised aloud. "What if we were to download them to save them for another time? That way they won't bother you for the time being, but you don't have to lose them forever."
Geordi wanted to find a way to help Data. It was clear there was something very important to Data about all of this.
Geordi's gut was telling him something had occurred between Tasha and Data, something they were still struggling to come to terms with.
Geordi didn't want to speculate about the nature of what had occurred during the polywater incident (or the weeks that followed), but it was evident it had left both of them with a sense of awkwardness.
Finally, Geordi worked up the courage to say what he was thinking.
"Look, I don't want to dance around this," Geordi said sternly. "Clearly something happened between you two. I don't know what it was. And I don't want to know what it was. But I don't see why you need to wipe away nine weeks. Even if you were to isolate and remove whatever it was that happened between you two, that doesn't take care of the very obvious feelings this is causing."
Geordi was no fool. He had seen they way they looked at one another. For well over a year, Geordi knew that Data became flustered in Tasha's presence. He fixated on her and tried hard to please her. There was an obvious increase in Tasha's blood pressure when she was around Data. Her body temperature too.
Geordi had wondered before—on several occasions—if there was more going on between the tender-hearted Second Officer and the ever-composed Security Chief.
Geordi turned and looked directly at Tasha, wordlessly pleading with her to spit it out. She shifted her weight from her left to right foot. Her arms remained crossed, and her lips were pursed.
"Can't you just wipe stardate 41209.2?" Tasha asked in a hushed voice.
Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. She felt awful. It was horribly unfair to ask Data to erase that memory while she would go on with the knowledge of what had transpired. And yet, it was obvious something had to be done. Data could not go on like this.
"Can you just… wipe that day? That… that hour?" Tasha pleaded.
"No," Data said flatly.
He thought that was obvious.
"Even if we were to isolate and remove the seventy-one minutes in question from stardate 41209.2 and the subsequent hours after our… encounter, it would not suffice in resolving this issue. A significant portion of my neural net is occupied with processing questions that have arisen based on interactions and observations over the last nine weeks."
Data frowned.
"You both continue to have difficulty in understanding this issue. Has my explanation been insufficient?" he asked.
Geordi answered 'yes' the same time Tasha answered 'no.'
"Data, I can tell you are struggling with this. What do you want?" Geordi asked sympathetically hoping his android friend would be able to pick up on the plea in his voice.
"I would like to understand why my actions have caused annoyance as I seek to revise my behaviour so that I do not cause either of you further distress," Data stated. He blinked twice before continuing, "I would also like to inquire as to your physical health and emotional wellbeing, Lieutenant Yar."
"I'm fine, Commander!"
Tasha was uncomfortable when it came to discussing her feelings. She supposed it had a lot to do with her traumatic childhood on Turkana IV. Tasha had always been able to compartmentalise her feelings and pour herself into her work.
Although Tasha had many friends among her crewmates, she had always been an independent person.
But mostly what unsettled Tasha was that as the Chief Security Officer aboard Starfleet's flagship, Tasha felt that the polywater incident was a personal failure. She had failed her duty to the ship and the crew. She'd taken advantage of Data.
Her failure was the cause of all of this.
And now, when a moment of courage could spare all of this, Tasha was afraid. Afraid of confronting her own feelings, afraid of hurting Data.
She scolded herself for her cowardice.
"Geordi? Would you give us the room for a moment?" Tasha asked.
Geordi nodded in understanding and stepped out into the corridor.
Silence descended on the pair. Tasha traced her left foot in a circle on the carpet. It took Tasha moment to find her voice.
"Look, Commander—"
"I have noticed you alternate between addressing me by my rank and my name during off-duty hours. Prior to the incident on stardate 41209.2, you did not engage in this behaviour," Data interjected.
He kept his attention focused on the floor.
It was unlike Data to avoid eye contact. His programming was designed to mimic human behaviour, so he had no difficulty maintaining eye contact and his blinking program ensured it seemed natural.
"I have deduced that I am responsible for your distress, but my lack of understanding regarding human social interactions has left me at a loss on how to rectify the situation so as to avoid further harm," he explained. "I initially believed that your preference was to behave as if the polywater incident had never occurred and so, on the advice of Captain Picard, I followed your lead."
Tasha froze.
Data told Picard?!
An unholy noise escaped Tasha's throat. But she was utterly incapable of formulating a response. She felt angry. She felt betrayed.
"But I have struggled to rationalise the difference between your verbal and nonverbal communication since that incident. Particularly, I am struggling to understand our interactions on Ligon II and immediately afterward," Data said flatly.
Their experience on the planet had left Data utterly baffled as Tasha had attempted to navigate the minefield that was her own emotional state. Data had remained behind with Tasha on the planet during part of her captivity.
And there moments (several) in which Data was positive that Tasha could feel it too—there was more between them than a professional friendship.
Data looked at Tasha for the first time since Geordi had exited the room and asked the question that had burned in his mind for the last four days.
"Am I the 'complication' of which you spoke?"