A/N: I'm attempting to balance the 'action' chapters against the ones that are more focused on Data, Tasha, and their relationship development. To that end, I'll continue to weave in missing scenes/original adventures to tell that story.
And of course, it wouldn't be Trek with the subplots! The next few chapters are going to focus more on the friendships between Data & Geordi and Tasha & Worf.
The Starfleet Regulation mentioned in this is an actual canon regulation known as the 'Interspecies Protocol.' Wild , eh?
Thank you so much for your support as we continue this story!
"We'll maintain our heading for the time being. Starfleet has ordered us to transport a group of colonists to the Strnad system. The Captain will have more information about our next mission tomorrow," Commander Riker stated as he explained their latest orders from Starfleet.
The senior officers of the Enterprise, sans Captain Picard, were seated around the long table in the Observation Lounge. Commander Riker had been in command of the Enterprise since the previous night.
"How is the Captain?" Geordi asked.
It was a question that had weighed heavily on the minds of the crew.
"He will resume command tomorrow," Commander Riker explained.
"I've scheduled a short session with all of you today," Counsellor Troi stated. "I think it is important that each of you have the opportunity to discuss what happened yesterday. You'll find your time on your schedule."
The encounter with the strange energy entity had left its mark on all of them. For Tasha and Captain Picard, the mark had been both physical and mental.
Data checked his PADD as he had not yet seen a scheduled appointment. But in fairness, he had not checked his PADD since the night before at 22:40.
Although his typical routine involved memorising the entirety of the Enterprise schedule first thing in the morning, Data had been otherwise preoccupied that morning.
He caught Tasha's eyes briefly. She knew exactly what he'd been thinking about.
"Counsellor, when is my appointment?" Data asked as he scanned through his PADD.
Commander Riker and Deanna exchanged a glance.
"I'm sorry. I didn't schedule one for you, Data," Deanna said.
Deanna could immediately sense a crestfallen feeling emanating from Data. He had been impacted by the entity too—very nearly losing two close friends.
"Would you like to talk today, Data?" Deanna offered.
"Yes please, Counsellor," Data replied.
Deanna smiled.
"Of course, Data. I'll put you on the schedule for today," Deanna said as she made an adjustment to the schedule.
"Thank you, Counsellor," Data responded.
"And I'll see you for your follow up exam at 09:00 hours," Doctor Crusher said to Tasha.
"Lieutenant Yar, why don't you go now and get it out of the way? I'll keep Ensign Tuttle at Tactical until your return," Riker suggested.
Tasha nodded and followed Doctor Crusher to Sickbay.
"Tasha? Tasha?" Doctor Crusher prompted.
Tasha snapped out of her thoughts and back to the present. She didn't realise she had drifted off.
"Sorry, what was the question?" Tasha asked.
"I said, maybe I should have kept you last night for observation," Doctor Crusher replied.
She ran her medical tricorder over Tasha's head again and examined the readings.
"Are you having trouble concentrating? You had a small concussion, but I'm wondering if there was more trauma from the entity than we initially realised," Beverly said.
Beverly glanced over at the screen where her scanners read Tasha's brain activity.
"Based on what happened yesterday, I'd say this distraction was mental. Which is not uncommon, given what occurred. But these readings don't indicate any kind of negative emotional response. You seem very relaxed, content," Doctor Crusher said she observed the readings.
"I'm fine, Doc," Tasha assured her.
"Alright then, let's start the exam. I'll ask you some routine questions and then I'd like to discuss a few other things," Beverly stated as she grabbed her PADD.
Tasha nodded in acknowledgement.
"Have you sustained any recent injuries, illnesses, or pain since your last exam?" Beverly asked her.
"Well, I got thrown into a wall by an energy entity. And I happened to be on top of the transporter console when it exploded," Tasha said with a wry grin.
Beverly smirked.
"At least you haven't lost your sense of humour. In the last twenty-four hours have you consumed any food or drink?" Beverly asked as she continued down the Starfleet standard questionnaire.
Tasha paused. Doctor Crusher had advised her against drinking anything following her injuries—but then Data had turned up next to her with a bottle of real whisky.
"Since the last time I was here? Uh… I had some whisky last night. Just a few glasses," Tasha said as she noticed the look of disapproval from Beverly.
"Anything this morning?"
"Yeah, some yoghurt and tea."
"Tasha, may I ask why you drank last night?" Doctor Crusher pressed as she looked at her friend with concern.
Tasha shrugged.
"It's not what you think. It wasn't because of what happened yesterday. I felt great last night, more relaxed than I have in ages," Tasha explained.
"It was against my better judgement that I let you go last night. That said, I haven't seen you this at ease in a long time," Beverly said as she noted Tasha's file with readings.
"It was a relaxing evening. I am just glad the business with the Antican and Selay delegations is finished," Tasha replied.
It was partially true. The relief of having both delegations off the ship had felt like a huge weight had been lifted from Tasha's shoulders. And speaking of shoulders, Data's hands had played a major role in easing the tension of the last few days—rubbing out all the knots and tension that Tasha carried in her back and shoulders.
She'd woken up that morning feeling better than she had in ages . She was delighted, rested, and quite comfortable in Data's bed. It wasn't just the bed though—it was the arms, the feeling of being wanted, his artificial breath on the back of her neck, and Data's hands.
His damn hands. Tasha allowed her mind to momentarily wander.
"Tasha? Hello?" Doctor Crusher said, pulling her back to reality.
"I am so sorry," Tasha said as she realised that she hadn't been paying attention.
"Must have been some evening," Beverly teased.
"It was," Tasha replied in a dreamy voice that was most unlike her.
"Any changes in your hearing or vision in the last 30 days?" Beverly asked her.
"No," Tasha answered.
"Have you engaged in sexual activity in the last 24 hours and, if so, when?" Beverly asked, continuing through the standard questionnaire.
"About three hours ago before the briefing," Tasha answered honestly before adding, "And last night."
If she was fazed by the comment, Doctor Crusher did not indicate as such. She simply noted the information and moved on to the next part of their exam.
"Well, that's as good of a spot as any to move into why I scheduled this exam. You are no doubt aware of Starfleet protocol on intimate relationships," Beverly said.
Tasha started to respond but Doctor Crusher put her hand out.
"Ah—it's okay. It's the most commonly broken regulation. I only bring it up because, as your doctor, I'm required to," Beverly explained.
"Doctor, I don't know what you think is going on, but I can assure you that it's not what it seems," Tasha said.
"Tasha, all Starfleet personnel are supposed to obtain authorisation from their commanding officer in addition to clearance from their medical officer before initiating an intimate relationship with an alien species," Beverly explained.
"But Doctor, I haven't—"
Tasha didn't finish the sentence.
"I knowabout Data," Beverly said in a low voice as she put her hand on Tasha's shoulder. "It's alright. You don't have to feel embarrassed."
Tasha felt a flash of anger.
"I'm not embarrassed!" she replied emphatically, meeting Doctor Crusher's eyes. "I don't see any reason why I would feel embarrassed. He's a great person and a highly decorated Starfleet officer."
"I apologise, Tasha. I didn't mean to imply that you were embarrassed about your partner. I meant that sometimes people feel embarrassed about speaking with their Doctor about sex," Beverly clarified.
Tasha took a deep breath and paused before continuing.
"Sorry, Doc. Thank you. He felt bad after his medical questionnaire. He suspected you'd piece it together," Tasha added.
"Well, I must admit that was certainly the first clue. I stopped by your quarters last night to check on you. When you didn't answer, I was worried something had happened. So, I asked the computer for your location. When I learned you were in Commander Data's quarters, I didn't want to disturb you," Beverly answered.
There was a moment of silence. Tasha knew sooner or later something like that was bound to happen. The Enterprise was a big ship, but for the senior officers it wasn't big enough. The line between their personal and professional lives was murky. It was impossible to keep relationships a secret for long.
"I'm not embarrassed. Besides, Captain Picard is already aware," Tasha explained.
"Then why haven't you come to me?" Beverly questioned.
Tasha shrugged.
"Data's not an alien."
"He's not a human either," Beverly countered.
Tasha cocked her head to the side as if she were struggling to find the right words.
"He's got a pulse, Beverly. He breathes. He feels," Tasha said brightly as her eyes lit up. "When he moves you can feel the muscle under his skin. Yes, it's made of tripolymer rather than tissue, but it serves the same function."
"Commander Data is a machine. A marvellous, amazing lifeform. But he's still a machine," Beverly replied.
"We're all machines, Doctor," Tasha countered.
"I'm not judging you, Tasha. I think Data is a very sweet person and I'm happy for you. But, as your doctor, I need to be sure that this is safe for both you and Mr Data," Beverly explained.
Tasha didn't look convinced.
"Would you feel more comfortable if we spoke in my office?" Doctor Crusher asked.
"I'm not embarrassed," Tasha reasserted.
"I don't mean to be indelicate, but—" Beverly paused.
She didn't want to offend Tasha, but she also didn't want to dance around the issue. As a physician, having uncomfortable conversations was a part of the job. Summoning her professional courage, Beverly decided to be frank.
"You're sexually active with the only sentient android in the universe, Tasha. You're swapping fluids with someone that is not a human. Does Data even have saliva? Seminal fluid? If so, how do you know if they're safe?" Doctor Crusher asked. "We have no idea what the long-term consequences of human exposure to such chemicals might be."
"Yes, he does. And it's perfectly safe," Tasha replied.
"But you can't know that until we determine it is," Doctor Crusher insisted.
"No, I can," Tasha said as she stared at Doctor Crusher.
Beverly listened patiently as Tasha proceeded to lay out the facts for Beverly.
When Tasha had first learned that she would be responsible for the security of the Enterprise, she set about understanding each of the crew— including studying all available information on Lieutenant Commander Data.
Tasha had recognised Data's potential from the first glimpse of his file.
Not only was Data a highly intelligent officer, his physical strength and abilities meant he could be a great aid (and possible threat) to the Enterprise. Tasha poured through Data's specifications in an effort to understand how he operated and, if necessary, how to detain or deactivate him.
Tasha gained a great respect for Data's abilities as a Starfleet officer. He was one of Starfleet's most highly decorated officers—having been awarded both the Medal and Legion of Honour, the Star Cross, the Starfleet Commendation for Gallantry, the Decoration for Valour, and the Distinguished Service Order (just to name a few). They were awards for courage, service, and duty.
When Tasha had first flipped through Data's personnel record, she wondered how it was possible that he had no command of his own.
Tasha didn't just breeze through Data's history—she also studied every inch of Data's physical construction.
She knew he had an inorganic water-based fluid that consisted of mineral salts and proteins that served to help lubricate some of his internal systems. It also acted as a medium for ion exchange in conjunction with Data's automated decontamination programme.
Data's oral cavity produced an inorganic saliva-like fluid to keep his mouth and throat moistened. Data even had tear ducts capable of lubricating his optical receptors.
Tasha also knew from professional study (and personal experience) that Data's anatomy produced a biosynthetic lubricant that was safe for nearly all humanoids.
"So, you see he has inorganic, but entirely harmless, biofluids," Tasha explained.
Doctor Crusher stood agape.
She wasn't mad at Tasha. She was disappointed in herself. When Beverly had first taken her assignment aboard the Enterprise, she had been informed by the previous medical officer that Data, as an android, had no need for medical attention.
Although he was occasionally subjected to required routine medical exams, these were always done at the most basic level. Once in a while, Beverly would check to ensure Data wasn't carrying any dangerous spores or chemicals back from an away mission. Data was always keen to remind Beverly that his body had built-in detection and decontamination procedures.
Doctor Crusher would scan him as part of the routine procedure and be done with it. Until the other day, she'd largely only ever been able to scan his brain functioning but not much else.
"Tasha, that's fascinating," Beverly admitted. "I had no idea. This information isn't contained in his medical records."
"Exactly. It's only in his schematics. And those are locked for security. I'm sure you understand."
Tasha paused before continuing.
"When Data was first discovered, he wasn't always treated as a person," Tasha added darkly. "It meant a lot that you offered to do the full exam for him too."
Beverly thought back to Data's discomfort the other day before Tasha had arrived. Now it made perfect sense. If Data had been treated poorly by other medical or science officers in the past, then it was only natural that he would feel uncomfortable in a similar setting. Memories of bad doctors could haunt patients for life.
"Well, in that case, I am glad he will be speaking with Counsellor Troi later," Beverly said.
"Doctor, there's a lot you won't find in Data's Starfleet records," Tasha stated much to Beverly's surprise.
"You're not the first," Beverly realised.
"It's not up to me to disclose that," Tasha said.
"Right," Beverly agreed.
Doctor Crusher unhooked the scanners that had been attached to read Tasha's brain activity. Then she sat down on the bed across from Tasha.
"I have to ask, Tasha, it's been almost six months since your last contraceptive injection expired," Beverly said.
"There's no possibility of that, Doctor. But as it's expired, I suppose we should get it taken care of. Better safe than sorry," Tasha said.
One of the first things Tasha had been thankful for after joining Starfleet was the availability and ease of accessing contraceptives. They were rare on Turkana. And at 15, Tasha had been thankful to escape without a child.
She wasn't opposed to having children.
Someday.
A long, long time from now.
Tasha had already served the role of parent from an early age. Her younger sister, Ishara, had been more than a handful. Raising a child on a Turkana would be enough to scare anyone out of parenthood.
And raising a child like Ishara on Turkana had been a nightmare.
For many years, the thought of parenthood was a frightening one. It still scared Tasha. During her relationship with Alfie, the idea had slipped back into her mind—briefly.
Tasha was now comfortable enough with the thought that perhaps a family might be in the cards someday. But she also recognised that she would have a long Starfleet career ahead of her first. Tasha wanted that career. She enjoyed her role as Chief Security Officer and the challenge it presented. At the same time, Tasha felt a duty to serve the organisation that had rescued her (and so many others).
In any case, Tasha was determined that if she ever wanted a family, she would adopt. She was firmly set on that. Pregnancy was too terrifying and too risky for someone that spent half her time getting tossed around the Bridge or off on away missions.
Tasha was still completely lost in her own thoughts as Beverly administered the hypospray.
After her injection was done, Doctor Crusher had released Tasha for duty on the condition that she report anything strange or unusual should it arise. She made a mental note to speak with Captain Picard about releasing Data's full physical specifications so she could review them and add them to his medical logs.
It was clear there was a lot she didn't know about her android crewmate. Furthermore, if he were suddenly experiencing sensations like taste, it was possible there could be medical information that would prove valuable in the future.
Beverly caught Tasha's hand on her way out of the Sickbay.
"And Tasha, I'm really happy for you."
Tasha beamed.
Deanna was seated in her office reviewing her notes on the situation with the entity when her door chimed. Hopping up from her favourite chair, she went to the door to greet her next appointment.
"Come in, Captain," she said as she guided Captain Picard inside.
"Thank you, Counsellor."
Deanna could sense that Picard already had his walls up.
Professional to a tee, he wasn't about to drop his formal Captain act despite the unease that weighed heavily on his mind. Deanna understood Captain Picard well. He was a man that projected leadership and pragmatism at every turn.
"Would you care for some tea?"
"No. Thank you, Counsellor. I would like to get this over with," Picard stated.
Deanna had anticipated this response.
"Of course. Where would you like to start?" Deanna asked as she slipped into her favourite chair.
"I think it is rather straightforward. I was overtaken by an alien entity for which I feel a range of sentiments. Guilt, for one, due to the position I put all of you and the harm that I caused to four of my crewmembers. I am embarrassed that I allowed myself to be tempted by the entity's offer." Picard sighed. "And I suppose I'm a bit lucky. I was fortunate you were able to sense my plea for help."
Deanna nodded in understanding but did not respond. She wanted him to continue. In her time serving with the Captain, she had found his monologues to be an insightful tool into understanding his personality. Once he got going, Deanna wasn't going to stop him.
"Now, while I know that the alien influence means I was unable to control what happened, I will never fully reconcile with myself what I have done. But I am ready to return to my duties and I understand this situation will weigh on my mind for some time to come," Picard went on.
"I think that you've thought a lot about this in the last twelve hours. I appreciate your honesty," Deanna said.
"But?" Picard prompted.
He recognised the tell-tale sign that Deanna was about to probe deeper.
"But I sense something else in there too," Deanna said.
"As I said, I am feeling many things about what happened, Counsellor," Picard said.
"And it is important that we identify all of those different emotions so that we can process them," Deanna said.
"I assure you that I am fine, Counsellor."
"Captain, I'm sensing anger from you," Deanna shared. "Can we address that?"
She had hoped that Picard would identify that on his own. Since he hadn't, Deanna decided a little push was in order.
"I suppose I am angry for allowing myself to be tempted by this entity," Picard responded as he contemplated her words.
"I think that is part of what you are feeling, but I don't think that is the source of your anger," Deanna pressed.
Picard didn't respond immediately. He turned his gaze downward as he allowed himself to explore his feelings. Deanna was right. There was anger suppressed deep within him.
It was something he'd kept locked away in the deepest recesses of his soul.
He sighed and turned his gaze back to the Counsellor.
"You are correct, Counsellor. But I fear we do not have the luxury of time to address that issue today."
"We still have forty-seven minutes," Deanna reminded him.
"I fear that this could take a lifetime, Counsellor," Picard said in an effort to redirect the conversation.
"I'm not letting you off the hook on this one, Captain," Deanna said.
She had sensed this feeling from him many times before. But in the last twelve hours it was as if the feeling had been amplified by the encounter with the entity. During her time as Counsellor, Deanna had worked to chip away at the Captain's defences. Now, she decided it was the right time to press the attack.
"This incident with the entity has brought this to the surface. What is it, Captain?" Deanna asked gently.
She could feel a duality within Picard. Part of the Captain longed to disclose whatever it was causing this anger. He wanted relief. Another part of him was hesitant and afraid. In addition, she could pick up that the Captain also felt a little curious about what the consequences of disclosure would be.
"For a number of reasons, what I am feeling is best left unsaid," Picard said.
Deanna didn't respond. She could sense he was on the cusp of opening up. The silence unnerved Picard. He felt compelled to explain.
"As you know, I have never married or had children of my own. In many ways, the crew are my family. I suppose that a Captain is a father-like figure. I have a responsibility to my crew, and I care very much about all of you. My actions put every one of you in jeopardy. Beyond that, I hurt people that I care about," Picard said.
He looked away briefly to collect his thoughts.
Captain Picard felt horrible for placing his crew in such an impossible position. Commander Riker had been forced to make an awful choice of leaving him behind. It was a First Officer's duty—but Captain Picard couldn't help but feel guilty for putting that burden on Riker. The weight of that choice would remain on Riker's soul forever.
He could have killed Tasha.
A part of Jean-Luc would never forgive himself for what he'd done.
Although Tasha should have waited for backup, Picard knew that she sprang into action because of their longstanding friendship. In some ways, he regarded her as not just a daughter but a protégé. She had great potential and reminded him of a certain young Jean-Luc Picard in many ways.
Mostly he felt anger because of the way he'd treated Beverly.
Jean-Luc adored everything about that woman. There was no one else capable of causing the same level of fascination and frustration in him. They had danced around their mutual attraction for years—incapable of getting close, yet unable to let go.
It wasn't just the regulations or their respective roles that kept them apart. It was the politics of Starfleet. Their history. There was also Wesley to consider.
And there had always been the memory of Jack hanging between them like an unspoken barrier. Beverly and Jean-Luc couldn't seem to enjoy a moment alone without Jack's ghost lingering in the room, sucking out all the oxygen.
"This encounter has been a stark reminder that I have been unable to tell those I love just how deeply I care," Picard said diplomatically.
Deanna listened intently.
"Because of your role as Captain? Do you perceive a barrier between yourself and your crew? Or is it something else?" Deanna asked.
Damn her Betazoid senses! Picard thought.
"Yes," Picard answered.
It was neither a confirmation nor a denial.
"Captain—"
"I am afraid, Counsellor," Picard said, "that is where we will have to leave it for today."
Deanna made a face of disapproval.
"We have thirty-six minutes left, Captain," she said, reminding him of the time.
"Then what would you like to talk about—aside from this subject?" Picard asked in response.
Deanna's door chimed and she realised it was time for her next session.
"Oh? So soon," Picard said with a small smile.
As a compromise, Deanna and Captain Picard agreed to meditate for the remaining time of his session.
"Thank you, Counsellor," Picard said in earnest as he made his way for the door.
Deanna wished him well. He could be a crusty old spacedog, but they all cared about him. She sincerely hoped the remainder of Picard's day would be restful.
As the door slid open, Picard found himself face to face with Data.
"It is good to see you, Captain," Data said in his typical genial manner. "I hope you are well."
"Thank you, Data."
"Are you recovered from the incident?" Data asked.
"I am well, thank you," Picard replied in a short, but polite manner.
He wanted to be alone at the moment. It was so rare that Jean-Luc took any time off. However, he knew that Data was genuinely interested in his well-being, so he decided to indulge the android with more than just a quick brush off.
"I will be taking some time for myself today," Picard explained. "But I do look forward to seeing you tomorrow evening for chess."
"Of course, sir. Although, I must admit that I have yet to complete my reading of Bleak House. However, I would be willing to discuss the first thirty-nine chapters," Data said.
"You're capable of analysing thousands of words per minute, Mr Data. Have you not enjoyed the selection?" Picard asked, concerned.
Data could whiz through complete books in a matter of minutes. Jean-Luc never known Data not to finish a book they were scheduled to discuss.
"The selection is fine, sir," Data assured him.
It took Data 0.24 seconds to determine his explanation was not sufficient to satisfy the Captain's inquiry.
"Lieutenant Yar is reading the book to me," Data clarified. "I have found that by having someone narrate, I am able to better grasp the nuances of human speech and behaviour."
That brought a smile to Jean-Luc's face.
"That's fascinating, Data," he replied—and he meant it. "I look forward to our meeting tomorrow."
"As do I, sir," Data said with his customary nod before entering Deanna's office for his session.
Although counselling was a service offered to all Starfleet officers and their families, Data had never before partaken in it. Data was generally sceptical about sharing too much information on himself and his schematics. It had often been used against him in the past.
But through his relationship with Tasha, Data had learned just how much she benefited from Starfleet counselling. Tasha thought it might be a good move for Data and he could see the benefit for his own personal development.
"Hello, Data," Counsellor Troi said as she greeted him and indicated that he should take a seat across from her.
"Hello, Counsellor Troi," Data said as he sat down.
"Since this is your first session, I'd like to cover some basics before we begin. We have one hour to talk. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, please say so. You do not have to reveal any information you do not wish to share. Though please know that everything said in these sessions is confidential. Furthermore, you may end the session early, at any point, if you feel that is necessary."
"I understand, thank you," Data replied in acknowledgement of the process.
"I usually offer my patients a refreshment. Can I get you anything?" Deanna offered.
"No, thank you."
Data was touched that Deanna had offered.
"So, I'd like to start by asking you what prompted you to seek counselling? Has anything changed recently?" Deanna questioned.
Although this was a routine question for a first session, Deanna had recently sensed a change in Data. For the last few weeks, she had been struck by emotions coming off him from time to time. It wasn't the same frequency as humans. And it wasn't all the time.
But there were moments that Data had a distinct, strong emotional output.
"Ninety-three days ago, I began to experience what I can only describe as a change in my neural net. I seem to possess an emotional awareness that I have been previously incapable of experiencing. In that time, I have come to experience additional, new sensations including an understanding of taste and a desire to shut down or rest at times," Data explained.
"You have wanted to experience emotion for a long time, yes?"
Although Deanna was unsure how it was possible, she sensed Data felt conflicted.
"Yes, Counsellor. However, I believe I am experiencing both excitement and fear simultaneously. While I am intrigued by this newfound emotional awareness, the knowledge that I am unable to explain its origin has left me… uncomfortable," Data said in an effort to explain his confusion.
"Do you think this is some undiscovered part of your programming?" Deanna asked.
"I am unsure. Lieutenant La Forge and I have attempted to ascertain if there is a programming malfunction or previously unknown routine that would explain this change. Thus far, we have found nothing to indicate this is part of my programming," Data stated.
Geordi was still running a few scenarios—but the early results had not produced any new leads.
"Of course. I can see how that would feel unsettling," Deanna replied.
"Lieutenant La Forge has suggested that I 'lean into it.' I have made numerous attempts to do so," Data informed her.
Deanna smiled.
"That sounds like a good plan, Data."
"Thank you, Counsellor," he responded.
Deanna watched as his face suddenly changed. Data's brow furrowed and his mouth fell.
"Nevertheless, I am concerned that having so little emotional experience could result in my actions causing frustration or harm to others," Data said.
Deanna contemplated Data's statement and chose her next words carefully.
"Have these new feelings included any desire to do so? To cause harm?" Deanna inquired.
Data's eyes grew wide.
"No, Counsellor."
To Deanna's relief, Data seemed shocked at the question. She sensed his response was genuine.
"Then why are you afraid?" Deanna questioned.
"When I first began to experience this change, the response nearly overwhelmed my neural net. I experienced that same overwhelming sensation several times in the weeks that followed. It caused significant frustration to someone who is special to me," Data said as he recounted the weeks following the polywater incident.
Counsellor Troi suspected that Data was talking about Tasha and that it may be important to explore that.
"Data, I would like to remind you that anything you say here is confidential. Can we talk about your relationship with your friend? Or, if you aren't comfortable naming them, that's alright too. But I think exploring this would be healthy," Deanna reassured him.
"I believe you are correct, Counsellor."
Data's entire demeanour changed. He seemed to light up at the prospect.
"I have begun a romantic relationship with Lieutenant Yar."
Deanna nodded.
"And how does that make you feel, Data?" Deanna asked.
Data smiled bashfully.
"It is… hard to describe," Data answered in earnest. "Not because it is unpleasant. Rather, I find that my existence has gained a new… je ne sais quoi."
Deanna was amused by Data's skilled use of a human idiom.
"That's a good way to say it," she said, beaming.
"For many years, I had contemplated if it may be better to terminate my existence," Data confessed.
He had not shared that with anyone before—even Geordi.
"As I acquire new skills, new neural pathways form, replacing less complex ones. As my neural net increases in complexity, I found that each new accomplishment felt… hollow," Data went on. "If all I am is a smarter, faster computer—"
Data trailed off.
"I want to be more than that," Data said.
"Is that why you study human behaviour?" Deanna asked.
Data nodded.
"I hope that in learning about other humanoids and other cultures that I might, in some small way, learn about myself," Data said.
For the first time, Deanna saw Data in a whole new light.
"You aren't just trying to replicate human behaviour. You're trying to find yourself," Deanna realised.
"Yes, Counsellor. Is that wrong?"
"No, Data. I think that's very natural," Deanna assured him.
Data visibly relaxed.
"Lieutenant Yar's presence in my life has surfaced feelings within me," Data continued. "She has so enriched my life. Not simply because I have someone to share it with, although that is part of it, but because she has helped me to realise who I am. That I can desire things for myself, pursue my dreams."
Data paused.
"And that I am a person worthy of friendship… joy… love," Data said softly.
"Oh, Data," Deanna said as she reached for his hand.
Deanna gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"You are worthy of those things," she said. "And I am sorry if I have ever made you feel like you weren't."
"Thank you, Counsellor," Data replied.
As they talked through Data's journey of self-discovery and his newfound understanding of emotion, Data began to open up. Data was filled with excitement over the possibilities presented from his emotions—and afraid.
"In addition to my concerns about causing negative emotions in others, I have a confession to make," Data said.
The mood dropped. Suddenly, Data was very serious.
"I assured both Lieutenant Yar and Captain Picard that I would be capable of separating my duty to Starfleet from my feelings for Tasha. However, I have now allowed those feelings to supersede my duty to Starfleet on three occasions," Data admitted.
Deanna shifted in her chair. Data's smile had faded. His features carried worry. Deanna was well aware that command often looked the other way when it came to Regulation 1138. But that understanding resided on the foundation of separation between duty and romance.
"Tell me what happened," Deanna prompted.
"On three occasions, I have failed to follow protocol because my thinking process has been disrupted by these emotions. In two instances, I was compelled to take actions that were against regulations. That is dangerous. In one instance, I failed to follow standard procedure because, well… I believe you would call it 'not thinking clearly,'" Data said.
Deanna glanced at the time on her PADD. They still had another forty-two minutes left in their session.
It was evident that Data was concerned, and she wanted to explore that.
Furthermore, Deanna had a responsibility as Counsellor to assess and report if his behaviour could become dangerous.
"Data, you mentioned the word dangerous. I need to know what happened," Deanna stated.
"The first instance was during the polywater incident. I allowed my feelings to delay my response to a direct order from the Captain."
"Go on," Deanna said.
Data hesitated.
"Everything said here is confidential. You have my word," Deanna reminded him.
Data nodded. He took an artificial breath and cleared his throat before continuing.
"I was ordered to escort Lieutenant Yar to Sickbay. When I arrived at her quarters—"
Data trailed off.
"Although I eventually saw her safely to Sickbay, I did not follow the 'spirit' of Captain Picard's orders," Data said.
"Data, we were all impacted by the polywater. You were too," Deanna said.
"But not until after I… that is to say, my decision to initially subvert the order was not due to the polywater," Data confessed. "I chose to disregard the Captain's order because I felt desire."
Deanna understood his concern—but she also sensed Data was beating himself up over something that wasn't quite entirely his fault.
"Data, you couldn't have known what the polywater would do. No one could have predicted that we would find ourselves in an emergency," Deanna said.
"Is it not my duty to anticipate such crises? Should not all Starfleet officers be at the ready in the event an emergency were to occur?" Data countered. "We have regulations and protocols for a reason, Counsellor."
Data knew better than anyone that things could change in a split second. There were thousands of ways to die in space.
"Data, you alone can't be responsible for the safety of every single person every minute of the day," Deanna pointed out.
"But I was on duty," Data protested.
Deanna grinned over the edge of her tablet.
"You're hardly the first officer to make an innocent mistake while on duty, Data."
Data was not convinced.
"Counsellor, it is hardly one mistake," Data said. "I also failed to notify Sickbay that I was inbound with a gravely injured officer after Lieutenant Yar lost consciousness on the Observation Lounge. That is procedure and I failed."
"It's only human to forget something like that in the moment," Deanna explained. "Regulation 1138 isn't about small mistakes that any of us could make, it's about ensuring that your personal relationships don't interfere with the chain of command."
Data cocked his head to the side. He failed to see the distinction.
"Data, a violation of the fraternisation policy would be something like promoting Lieutenant Yar ahead of another officer because of your relationship or granting Geordi extra lab space at the expense of another department because Geordi is your friend," Deanna clarified.
Data frowned.
"That would be unethical," he remarked.
"Exactly," Deanna agreed. "See? You understand. The regulations aren't designed to hold us accountable for reasonable human emotional responses. They're in place so that we don't allow those emotions to interfere with our duty, with the chain of command."
Deanna paused.
"Do you remember your Bridge Officer Exam?" Deanna asked.
Data recalled it well. He'd had to fight just for the right to sit the exam in the first place. It was a comprehensive test of any potential Bridge Officer's capabilities—and a requirement for one to serve in the big chair (even if only temporarily).
"Regulation 1138 exists so that when you're faced with a crisis, you won't be influenced by your personal relationship to the crew that serve under you. A commanding officer must be capable of placing the lives and safety of the crew as a whole—or even Starfleet for that matter—above any personal friendships or intimate relationships," Deanna went on.
Data blinked slowly as he processed this.
"Then you are saying that it is only problematic when an officer prioritises a personal relationship above the safety of others? Of the ship? When they undertake actions that might put everyone at risk?" Data asked tentatively.
Deanna could pick up on the fact that Data was still deeply troubled.
"What happened, Data?" she pressed.
"I made that choice," Data admitted.
His voice trembled with guilt as he spilled all to Deanna.
"During the incident with the energy force from that M-class planet. When it caused the momentary ship-wide life support failure, I chose to attempt a manual override to restart the life support system in Lieutenant Yar's quarters."
Deanna thought back to that day. She recalled how Data had emerged on the Bridge with a burnt wire dangling from his exposed circuitry. It was highly unusual to see Data in such a state. He'd radiated nervous energy. At the time, Deanna thought it was because of Geordi's injuries from the holodeck.
Now she understood that was only part of it.
"It required that I interface with the computer directly. In doing so I exposed my positronic brain to the unknown energy entity," Data said.
Data's explanation from that day echoed in Deanna's mind.
It is fortunate the energy surge caused the cable to sever at this point of connection. Had it reached my positronic brain at its full capacity, I am unsure what may have happened.
"Tell me about what you were thinking when you made that choice. What were you feeling in the moment?" Deanna asked.
Deanna listened patiently as Data walked her through that day—the ways in which he theorised he could reboot the system, the potential risk, and his fear that failing to act would result in Tasha's death.
"It would have been safer to make such an attempt at one of the secondary engineering terminals in the maintenance junction," Data said.
"Why didn't you?" Deanna asked
For Data, the answer was simple. It was not a feasible option.
"I do not require the life support atmospheric conditions to survive. Humans do. Opening the door to the corridor would have resulted in Lieutenant Yar's death."
Even days later, the thought was enough to make Data shudder.
"I calculated the point of no return, the moment at which I would need to act or wait. I chose to act, and that choice could have exposed myself and the Enterprise to great risk," Data said.
"But what were you feeling Data?" Deanna pressed.
"There were many feelings. My system was overloaded," Data said as he struggled to put words to what had happened on that day. "Fear. Longing. Anxiety. Anger. Vulnerability. Overwhelmed—"
Data suddenly stopped and looked up at Deanna. His face was full of worry.
"Counsellor, is this normal? Do humans typically experience overwhelming emotions or simply one emotion at a time? Perhaps this is a malfunction?"
Data's artificial breathing programme was working double time. His coolant system surged.
"It's perfectly normal, Data," Deanna assured him.
Data glanced down at his hands. They were shaking. He gripped the seam of his trousers to try and stop the involuntary movement.
"I do not know how to manage these emotions," Data said, his voice full of fear.
"Data, I'd like to try something. It may help you sort through what happened. And it could help ground your feelings when you do experience these new highly emotional states," Deanna suggested.
He nodded eagerly.
"Please, Counsellor."
"Close your eyes and think back to that moment," Deanna said, guiding him. "Data, you have the unique ability to observe more than most of us. I want you to describe for me what those receptors were reading in that moment. What do you see, Data? What can you touch and smell?"
Data could recall that moment in time perfectly.
"The gentle hum that emanates from the ship's life support system has stopped. I find this silence disturbing," Data described.
"That's very good, Data. Keep going," Deanna encouraged.
"It is cold. I can both feel the drop in temperature in my bioplast and I can see that when Tasha exhales the temperature has reached the point that the condensation is visible," Data went on.
"Can you smell anything, Data?" Deanna asked.
"Yes. There is mint from the tea on the table and lavender from Tasha's shampoo," Data said as he thought back.
He paused. A smile slowly spread across his face.
"Tasha's hair smells like lavender. Her skin, vanilla and bourbon. It's sweet and warm. And there's something floral that clings to her skin, something distinctly her."
Data suspected they were pheromones—but he couldn't wrap his positronic brain around why they affected him so.
"What can you feel Data?" Deanna asked.
"Her hand is cold. The carbon monoxide has reached a point that she is confused and nearly unconscious. I know I should not, but I feel obligated to confess my feelings should the interface be unsuccessful, or should the entity damage me in some way. Regardless, I have to attempt the interface." Data recounted in a determined voice.
"Why do you have to?" Deanna asked.
"I feel… flooded. My neural net is overwhelmed by the thought of emptiness. I have to attempt this because I would rather face the risk of becoming non-functioning than consider the possibility of existence without Tasha," Data concluded softly.
Suddenly his eyes shot open.
"Is this greed?" Data asked alarmed.
"No, Data," Deanna said with a smile. "I think it's love."
"I am incapable of love," Data replied.
"How can you be certain?" Counsellor Troi asked.
Data paused, suddenly he felt very unsure of himself.
"You said yourself you are beginning to experience emotion," Deanna reminded him. "And love isn't just an emotion. Love can be affection, commitment, care, physical or spiritual intimacy, passion, respect, and much more."
Data mulled over Deanna's words.
"Yet, my actions still put myself and thus the Enterprise at risk," Data said.
"How so?" Deanna inquired.
"Had I been rendered non-functioning I would be unable to perform my duties to Starfleet. My capabilities make me the only officer that does not require rest. I am able to withstand atmospheric conditions that would kill many Federation species. Furthermore, my physical makeup and strength have proven to be of value on numerous away missions," Data explained.
"Just because you have those skills, doesn't mean they are the property of Starfleet," Deanna asserted.
She could sense that Data felt beholden to his duty regardless of his identity as an individual.
"Captain Picard relies on my ability to remain unclouded by emotion. While these feelings are a personal achievement, they are a failure of my duty," Data said with a hint of sadness.
"Why should you matter less than Starfleet? My skills as an empath are valuable to Starfleet but that doesn't mean who I am as a person should matter any less than my duty," Deanna said poignantly. "Many Starfleet officers have made choices of personal sacrifice to save fellow crew members even though the loss of their skills is a loss to Starfleet."
She could see he was still struggling to grasp the concept. What Deanna couldn't know was that the first few months of Data's activation had left him conditioned to see himself in that way. It had taken time for Data to advocate for his own personhood.
"I think it will take time for me to understand that distinction, Counsellor. My internal chronometer indicates we are nearing the end of our session. You have given me a great deal to think about for our next appointment," Data said.
Three days later, Worf was on his way to the holodeck following his shift. Tasha had invited Worf to join her for a workout where they could both blow off some steam. The two friends had an arrangement—Worf was teaching Tasha Mok'bara and Tasha was teaching Worf how to box.
Worf stepped onto the turbolift where Commander Riker and Data were on their way to a meeting with the Captain. Commander Riker took note of Worf's wrist wraps and gloves.
Riker's curiosity was piqued.
"Off to the holodeck?"
"Yes, Commander," Worf replied.
"What's with the gear? I've seen your workouts, Worf, and I seem to recall you like them with the safety protocols off," Riker commented.
"I am sparring with Lieutenant Yar this evening," Worf said.
"Can I come?" Riker asked eagerly. "It's been ages since I've stepped into a ring."
"I believe that would be acceptable. But we will not 'go easy' on you," Worf warned as he stepped off the lift.
"I'll change into something more appropriate and join you shortly," Riker said as he tugged on his uniform.
After the doors closed, Commander Riker turned to Data with a grin. After a moment, Data realised Riker was smiling at him.
"Yes, Commander?" Data inquired as he turned his head to look at Commander Riker.
"Well, if my girlfriend was boxing with Klingons, I might be a little concerned about her safety," Riker remarked.
"Lieutenant Yar is not my 'girlfriend.' And in any case, she is an accomplished pugilist and highly skilled in several martial arts disciplines. She is more than capable of holding her own against a larger sparring opponent." Data replied in his typical, analytical voice.
"I'm sorry, Mr Data. My remark was inappropriate. And you're right. She is an adept athlete," Riker apologised.
"It is quite alright, sir," Data said before adding in a most un-Data like fashion. "She does not like the term."
"Athlete?" Riker asked innocently.
"Girlfriend."
"Ah." Riker nodded in understanding as he tried to suppress a smile. That certainly seemed right in line with the Tasha Yar he knew.
"If I may ask, what do you call yourselves then?" Riker asked.
"We call ourselves by our rank when on duty and our names when off duty," Data answered.
Riker shook his head. It was evident that Data didn't understand the question.
"No, Data. How do you label your relationship?" Riker asked.
"I am uncertain. We do not label it," Data replied suddenly feeling unsure of himself.
It wasn't just Data's android nature that piqued his curiosity.
Since their poker night, Commander Riker had been curious about the relationship between the two.
Data was an enigma. Highly intelligent, but with a tendency to babble. He was curious about the world around him. He was scientific. When he wasn't rebuilding a warp core with Geordi, he was in the Arboretum studying plants or learning to play a new instrument.
Data was eccentric, a walking encyclopaedia with a strange taste in music and art. He struggled to understand even basic humour. Social interactions were difficult for Data.
Tasha was energetic, sarcastic, and passionately opinionated. She was a warrior. She relied on her gut instinct and observational experience. Tasha liked poker and adventure. She was disciplined. And when she wasn't climbing or sparring, she was getting lost in a horror novel or whatever latest Andorian Death Metal album had dropped that week.
Although Tasha lived for action, Commander Riker had also come to know Tasha was nurturing and perceptive. She had an uncanny natural ability for conflict resolution and (next to Counsellor Troi) she was the go-to officer for making contact with people that had suffered trauma or when they encountered children. Tasha was simultaneously the fiercest, yet most encouraging, among them.
Somehow Pinocchio had managed to woo Artemis.
Riker did acknowledge there were similarities. They were both by-the-book officers with a deep admiration for Starfleet. In many ways, Starfleet had offered both of them their first real home. Both had entered Starfleet at a young age. Beyond that, both were decorated officers with a passion for duty.
Perhaps it wasn't as strange as he'd initially thought that they'd gotten together. Commander Riker had a number of good friends that served on the USS Crazy Horse. When he had first joined the Enterprise, he'd written them to ask for information on Lieutenant Yar to get to know her better.
They'd been eager to share that she was a fine officer and a good friend. But they'd also warned Riker she was coming out of the loss of her partner, Lieutenant Alfie O'Connor, who had died on a rescue mission.
Commander Riker was overjoyed that Data and Tasha seemed to have found happiness with one another.
"We are… taking things one step at a time," Data said, hoping to offer an explanation he'd heard humans use in the past.
"That's OK. Sometimes it's hard to label a relationship. It's perfectly normal, Data. I'm glad you're taking it slow. I think that's good for both of you—especially when a person's been through losing their fiancé. It can take time to feel comfortable again labelling a new relationship," Riker said.
Data's head snapped to the side.
"Fiancé?"
Commander Riker watched Data's eyes flit back and forth as he processed the word.
"Fiancé. Betrothed. Intended. A man who is engaged to be married. From the ancient French 'to promise or betroth.' Engaged."
Data turned and locked eyes on Riker.
"What do you know of this Commander?"
Riker was taken aback. He would have assumed Tasha had shared that information with Data. Riker now felt like a fool for letting the cat out of the bag.
"I have some friends that served with Lieutenant Yar on the Crazy Horse," Riker explained. "She was engaged to a Lieutenant that died on an away mission. That was a few years ago"
A beat passed.
"Data, I'm sorry. I assumed you were aware of that. If that wasn't something she hasn't shared, I shouldn't have mentioned it," Riker said.
"It is quite alright, Commander," Data replied. "I will say nothing."
Data had no issue with Tasha keeping her secrets to herself—after all, there were a great many things Data was not ready to share with anyone.
When Worf reached the holodeck, he was surprised to find it empty.
There was a standard boxing ring in the middle of the holodeck and some equipment around the edge, but Tasha was nowhere in sight.
"Lieutenant Yar?" Worf called out.
There was no response.
It was unlike Tasha to be late for something. In addition, someone engaged the holodeck to initiate the program. There had been no communication to Security in the last twenty minutes, so Worf reasoned it was unlikely she had been called away.
Walking to the backside of the ring, Worf found Tasha on the ground. He was immediately on guard. He had turned in his phaser at the end of his shift, so he wasn't armed.
Kneeling down he took a quick glance at his sparring partner. She didn't appear to be injured.
"Lieutenant Yar?"
There was still no response.
Worf reached out and gently touched her shoulder.
As Tasha jolted awake, she smacked Worf in the face.
"It is only me," Worf said through gritted teeth.
"Oh gods, Worf. I'm so sorry," Tasha said as she clapped a hand over her mouth in surprise.
"Are you alright?" Worf said as he rubbed the tip of his nose where her fist had made contact.
"Yes. I must have dozed off," Tasha admitted as she stood and helped Worf up.
"Are you ill?" Worf inquired.
"No, not at all," Tasha replied.
She threw her arms up and began to stretch.
"Are you sleeping poorly? Due to the entity perhaps or your injuries?" Worf pressed as they began to limber up.
Tasha shook her head as she pulled her leg back to stretch her quad.
"You have been unusually tired the last few days," Worf commented.
"I've been working on a project. It's a surprise for Data," Tasha explained. "Geordi's helping me develop a new holodeck program."
She went on to explain that they were working to develop a Sherlock Holmes holodeck program for Data. For her plan to be a success, Tasha had to do her research. That involved reading the Holmes stories and doing additional research on late 19th century London.
Tasha wanted every aspect to be perfect—right down to the gas lamps and the street vendors.
Tasha hoped the program would be immersive and provide a genuine mystery for Data to solve. She knew he would appreciate the challenge. However, she also knew that she and Geordi would have to put in a lot of work to provide a real challenge to Data.
Data's android nature meant that it was hard for Tasha to sneak in her research without him noticing. Though he now found pleasure in resting, Data did not often rest, nor did he do so at the same level as humans.
Tasha enjoyed falling asleep and waking up with him, so he'd made an effort to try and make it happen as often as they could. However, Tasha learned that Data would often get up after an hour or so and work through the night before returning to bed to be there in the morning.
His abilities meant he had extra responsibilities. And those extra responsibilities meant pulling additional work hours—often through the night—in order to accomplish them.
And there were still the nights Data had watch on the Bridge as part of his Night Watch duties.
"I've found it is incredibly hard to sneak in a surprise when your man never needs to sleep," Tasha sighed.
"I could assist you," Worf offered.
"Really?" Tasha asked as she climbed into the rink and pulled on her gloves.
"There's nothing like reading Holmes in its original Klingon," Worf said as he adjusted his own gloves.
Tasha cocked her head at him, and Worf flashed a rare cheeky smile.
"Uh-huh," Tasha laughed as she threw a soft punch at his arm.
Worf glanced down at his arm and then looked back up at Tasha.
"You have injured my feelings," Worf replied seriously before being unable to contain himself from letting out a deep laugh.
"What happened to you?" Deanna asked as she approached the table in Ten Forward.
Commander Riker, Worf, and Tasha were seated near the window. It was obvious from all the empty glasses that they were at least a few drinks ahead of her.
And Commander Riker was cradling a large coolant pack over his right eye.
"Just a little holodeck training," Commander Riker said as he took a sip of his synthesised Manhattan.
"We were sparring," Worf explained.
"Perhaps next time you will think twice before sparring with Worf," Deanna said, chuckling at Will's misfortune. She could just picture him getting in over his head with their resident Klingon Security Deputy.
Worf and Commander Riker turned to Tasha.
"Again, I'm very sorry Commander," Tasha said with a smirk.
"Well, I won't forget your left hook next time we jump in the ring," Riker said as he raised his glass to Tasha.
After an hour, Tasha decided that she needed a shower. It was nearly 22:00 and Data would be wrapping up his work in Engineering soon. She headed for her quarters and was eager to hop into the hot water.
"Computer, how about some music. Something relaxing," Tasha said as she kicked off her boots and set her combadge down on the built-in shelf near the door.
Stepping into the loo, she turned on the tap as steam began to fill the room. Tasha grabbed a soft, clean towel from the closet next to the shower and hung it near the bath.
She hissed, gently prodding the side of her face where Worf had gotten her during their sparring match. Running her finger along the side of her jawline, she could see there was a slight bruise starting to form.
Tasha must have been more tired than she realised because it wasn't often that Worf got in a hit on her. He was big—but she was fast.
Tasha stepped into the shower and felt instant relief as the hot water poured over her aching shoulders. There was a reason she kept her workouts with Worf limited to just a few nights a week.
As he was fond of reminding her—she wasn't a Klingon.
Closing her eyes, Tasha soaked in the refreshing feel of the hot water and her lavender shampoo.
Above the sound of the water, Tasha heard the door to her quarters activate. She'd left the door that led into her main room open. Tasha liked the steam rolling into her quarters. In a strange way, it reminded her of the humid air of Turkana's swampy marshland.
After a moment, she heard footsteps outside of the shower. Data's shadow in the obscured glass. He slipped off his own uniform and stepped in behind her. Data began to rub Tasha's shoulders.
"Mmmm. Thank you," she said as she turned to face him.
"You have been fatigued the last seventy-two hours," he said.
She smiled up at Data. It was true and, at the moment, she could feel it in every one of her muscles.
"Were you injured during your sparring match?" Data said with concern as he noticed the bruise forming on the side of Tasha's jawline.
"You should see the other guy," she joked in response.
Data cocked his head at her and blinked.
"It's a phrase," she explained.
"Ah! I see."
Tasha reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind Data's ear. He never ceased to astonish her. He couldn't rust. He wouldn't drown. He was perfectly capable of submerging himself in water for extended periods of time without damage to his circuitry. Just like human skin, his own bioplast protected his internal systems.
Tasha noticed that Data was deep in thought, staring off into nothing.
"What's on your mind, Data?
He looked down and met her gaze.
"I had my first counselling session today. It has left me with a great deal to consider," he answered.
"That's great," Tasha replied.
She lazily ran her hands up his long arms and let them rest on Data's shoulders, gently rubbing them in kind.
"What are you doing?" Data asked.
Tasha immediately stopped.
"I'm sorry. Does that make you uncomfortable?" Tasha apologised.
"No. It felt… pleasant," Data said.
Tasha grinned.
"Oh. Well, then. Just relax. Tell me about your day," Tasha said as she resumed massaging Data's shoulders.
"There are many things I would like to discuss at future sessions," Data shared.
"I'm glad to hear you will be going back."
Tasha meant it.
She had been thrilled when Data first brought up the idea of seeing Counsellor Troi. She had an inkling it would be a good thing for his emotional development—and for working through some of the things Data had shared about his early years in Starfleet.
Tasha still wasn't privy to most of the details. She knew from experience that it would take time for Data to discuss that period of his life openly.
"I uh, really need to wash my hair," Tasha said.
"Of course," Data acknowledged.
Data stepped out to allow her to wash her hair. Although Tasha's quarters were better than most, the shower wasn't quite as large as the shower in Data's quarters. And as much as Tasha enjoyed the intimacy of having Data join her, it just wasn't practical for washing her hair.
Knowing he only had a few moments, Data dried off quickly and grabbed his PADD. He pulled up all available information regarding crew deaths aboard the USS Crazy Horse from the last five years. He cross-referenced rank and deaths that occurred on away missions specifically during Tasha's tenure.
It took Data 2.93 seconds to find the name he sought.
Alfie O'Connor. Lieutenant. Medical Officer. Born on Vega colony.
Less than two years out of the academy, he was dead at 25.
The fragility of life fascinated Data.
He thought back to Commander Riker's earlier statement and agreed it would be best for Tasha to tell him about her relationship if and when she was ready.
After all, there were a great many things he had not told Tasha about his life or his past friendships and sexual relationships. She had never pushed, and Data respected that.
However, he would file this information away and begin to study human behaviour after the loss of a romantic partner. Data surmised it would give him a greater understanding of Tasha and the reluctance she had to identify their relationship with a formal label.
The tap shut off. Tasha stepped out a moment later and towelled her hair.
"May I ask you a question?" Data inquired as she made her way over to her bedroom to grab her dressing gown.
"Yeah," she replied with a yawn.
"What are we?"
Tasha was jarred by the question. She quickly recovered and flashed Data a smile. Tasha tied the waist of her dressing gown and then plopped down next to him on the sofa.
"Well, you're Lieutenant Commander Data, third in command of the Enterprise, one of only fourteen Starfleet officers to ever be awarded the Legion of Honour, and a wicked guitar player," Tasha answered.
She lay her head against Data's shoulder.
"And I'm your Chief Security Officer, Commander. I'm also the one who happens to be smitten with you," she went on playfully. "And right now, I think it's time for bed."
"Do you love me?" Data asked bluntly.
Tasha froze. On instinct, she put some distance between the two of them.
"Where is this coming from?" Tasha questioned.
Data opened his mouth to respond but then shook his head.
"That's a pretty loaded question, Data," Tasha said slowly.
"I have always thought myself incapable of love," Data explained. "But after speaking with Counsellor Troi, I suspect that I may have been misguided in that assumption. She advised that love is more than just an emotional response."
Tasha didn't reply verbally. She took his hand in what she hoped was a reassuring gesture.
"It is affection, intimacy, passion, respect, and commitment," he went on, lingering on the word 'commitment.'
Tasha swallowed hard. She wasn't sure where he was headed.
"I think I am capable of love. And I think I love you, Tasha," Data said as he met her eyes.
Tasha leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. She squeezed Data's hands, and they stayed like that for a moment.
"I understand if you are not able to say it back," Data assured her.
Tasha's breath hitched.
She hadn't been expecting that.
In fact, as much as Tasha hoped to one day hear those words, a little part of her always feared they would never be words that would leave his lips.
But it wasn't just the surprise of hearing Data say it and mean it that caught Tasha off guard. She had her own reasons for hesitancy. Tasha simply wasn't ready. And she didn't know if she ever would be.
"You are very special to me, Data," she replied, flipping his own words back at him. "And there are many languages of love."