The Complication

by CharlieFenwick

Data struggles to reconcile the discrepancies between Tasha's verbal and nonverbal communication during and after the events of Ligon II. "Am I the 'complication?" Data asked. Data begins to develop emotions. Tasha/Data fluff & angst. Data/Geordi friendship. Covers the events of TNG season 1 with missing scenes, original adventures, and some mild AU retelling of events.

96. Drop the Shields

Author's Note: Onward we go. As you may have noticed, there are some differences between this interpretation and the original Hero Worship.

This will be a three-part arc. (The next chapter primarily works through what happens next for Timothy as well as how this experience has influenced Data.)

I needed to find a way to work around Timothy's 'android' persona in a way that fit with our storyline. Since Data has identifiable emotions in this series, Timothy isn't so much trying to emulate an 'emotionless' android.

Rather, he sees Data as a hero – strong, popular, and always doing the right thing.

Timothy's attempt to transform himself into Data is more about trying to embody those characteristics in himself.

Some of the information revealed in this chapter regarding Jean-Luc & Beverly's relationship will be explored in future in a companion piece called The Complex Equation.

Thank you for all your support!

---

Chapter C/W: Anxiety attacks & trauma. Conversations re: death of parents, pregnancy, and miscarriage.

---

Deanna and Data were standing in the far corner of the room observing as Timothy twitched and moved his head around to study different objects while eating his breakfast.

"An android," Data said in disbelief.

Do I really look like that? Data thought, watching Timothy's erratic movements.

Data made a mental note to ask Tasha later.

"I know it sounds unusual, but it is understandable. Technically, it's called enantiodromia. Conversion into the opposite," Deanna shared. "Timothy went from being a young boy that was alone and, in his mind, weak to an android."

It made perfect sense.

"He's emulating the strongest person he knows – the person he wants to be," Deanna went on. "You demonstrated superior strength, composure during a crisis, and you have many friends. It's everything he wants to be."

Data frowned.

"Counsellor, I am socially awkward and fail to recognise social cues. I lack the natural human instincts necessary to 'blend in' and do not possess the charisma that many humanoids display," Data protested.

Deanna flashed Data a wry smile.

"None of that matters to a young boy. He sees you as a hero. You're strong and well-liked," Deanna explained. "You're his Superman."

"So this is a good thing?" Data inquired.

Deanna rocked her head back and forth.

"It's a step," Deanna said. "The underlying trauma is still there. Timothy has just found a way to suppress it."

Data felt awful. Emotional suppression was such a huge roadblock in his own development that Data couldn't help but feel responsible.

"Then all I have done is delay his progress," Data lamented.

"No!" Deanna assured him. "This is a good thing. We can use this. Timothy is rebuilding his identity. As soon as he feels more confident in himself, the less he will rely on imitating you. We'll start to see his own personality shine through."

Deanna gave Data a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

"In fact, your own journey through emotional development could be a great tool in helping Timothy," Deanna said.

A small smile crept across Data's face.

He was in a unique position to help Timothy – probably more so than anyone else on the ship.

"The best thing we can do is lean into it. Support the process – even encourage it," Deanna said.

She turned to Data.

"Data, I would like you to make Timothy the best android he can possibly be," she declared.

---

Timothy was sitting in front of the mirror in Data's quarters.

Data was standing behind him, studying where precisely to begin. He was having a difficult time as Timothy's head continued to jerk around.

Data briefly wondered if parents usually had the same difficulty with their children.

"Timothy, your head movements are counterproductive. Can you please be still?" Data inquired.

"But you do it," Timothy protested.

"The servo mechanisms in my neck are designed to approximate human movements. I did not realise the effect was so distracting," Data said.

Once more, he made a note to speak with Tasha on the matter.

Data needed honest feedback whether his own movements were truly so erratic or if Timothy's attempt to imitate them was exaggerated.

"I like it," Timothy said.

Fortunately, he kept his head still so Data could comb his hair back.

"Are there other androids like you in Starfleet? Where do you come from? Did you have to take maths too when you were in school?" Timothy asked in one breath.

He rattled off half a dozen questions before Data got a chance to respond.

"I am the only one of my kind in Starfleet. I was constructed by Doctor Noonian Soong," Data answered.

He wasn't about to try and go into details on the complicated family history of the mysterious cyberneticist, the unknown identity of the woman Soong called his 'Shinebug,' nor Data's unusual relationship with his brother, Lore.

Fortunately, Timothy's curiosity had no bounds.

"So how come you're not a Captain?" Timothy asked.

In his eyes, there was no one better than Data.

"I have never desired to be a starship Captain," Data answered honestly.

"Why?" Timothy pressed.

Data stopped brushing so he could study his progress. Satisfied, he scooped out some pomade and worked into Timothy's hair.

"Because I have other interests," Data shared. "But perhaps someday I will want to command a starship."

Data saw this as an opportunity and decided to ask a question of his own.

"Do you wish to command a starship someday?" Data asked.

Timothy cocked his head to the side.

"I have other interests," Timothy replied, mimicking Data.

Data gripped Timothy's neck, turning his head side to side.

"Is this satisfactory?" Data asked.

"It's great!" Timothy exclaimed.

He quickly composed himself, straightening up his posture and shifting to a serious face.

"I mean, it is acceptable," Timothy said in a much more subdued manner.

Data nodded and set down his brushes.

"Data? What's the scariest thing that ever happened to you?" Timothy asked.

Data lifted his eyebrows as he weighed the question.

There were many occasions in which he could consider fear to be the overwhelming emotion that occupied his mind.

Between his early days of confinement and abuse, meeting the Jaradan Queen, being trapped behind an Iconian doorway, the drones of Minos, and the Romulan threat – it was hard to narrow down one moment.

And that didn't even begin to starch the more esoteric concerns that lingered in the dark recesses of his mind.

Data felt there were distinct types of fear.

"It is difficult to pinpoint one particular moment," Data admitted.

Once more, Data saw an opportunity to try and delve into Timothy's mind.

"I suppose if I had to choose one, it would be the thought of losing the people I care about," Data shared.

Data observed a small change in Timothy's face as his micro expression registered surprise at Data's answer.

"Data, what do you do when you have a nightmare?" Timothy asked.

Data knelt down next to Timothy so they were eye level.

"Timothy? Are you having disturbing dreams?" Data asked.

Timothy paused.

"I do not require sleep," Timothy declared.

Data gave him a look.

"That is remarkable," Data commented. "Even I require rest."

"Well I guess sometimes I sleep. To recharge," Timothy added. "But I don't have to."

"Sometimes I do not want to sleep because I have had a bad dream," Data said. "Has that ever happened to you?"

Timothy shook his head, emphatically denying it.

"Nope," he said. "I don't ever dream about bad things. And if I did, I'm too strong. As an android, I'm so strong that I don't ever have to worry about the people I love being hurt."

---

There was no shortage of looks when Data dropped Timothy off at school that morning. Their matching attire, identical hair, and Timothy's deadpan impersonation of the Second Officer were hard to miss.

Just before Data left, he handed Timothy a lunchbox that he'd specially prepared using Guinan's advice.

Timothy cautiously peeked inside, fearing it would be another poached tilapia and spinach kind of day.

He looked up at Data, beaming.

"Peanut butter and jelly," Data advised.

"You cut the crust off," Timothy said in astonishment.

"I have read that it is preferable," Data replied.

Timothy flung himself at Data, throwing his arms around his waist as he gave Data a grateful hug.

"Thank you so much," Timothy said.

Data stiffened, momentarily stunned by the display of affection.

"You are welcome," Data said, giving Timothy a short pat on the top of his head.

Suddenly, Timothy realised he was failing to follow his android persona. He leapt back and straightened up. Timothy cleared his throat. Taking up a commanding stance, he lifted his chin.

"Thank you, Mr Data. This meal will provide sufficient nutritional intake for my lunch hour," Timothy said.

Timothy glanced around to ensure they were alone. Then he leaned in close, waving down so he could whisper in his ear.

"Do androids like pudding?" Timothy asked.

"Do you like pudding?" Data asked in response.

Timothy nodded.

"And you are android," Data said, leading him toward a conclusion.

"Oh! Right," Timothy said.

After exchanging a short nod, Timothy rushed off to join his new classmates.

---

That afternoon, Beverly wanted to see Timothy back in Sickbay for a follow up appointment.

Deanna had briefed Beverly about Timothy's new android persona and the good doctor was only too happy to comply.

Beverly was the person Data had confided in first when it came to his desire for children someday.

Seeing Data stroll in with Timothy in tow, matching in everything from their attire to their mannerisms – it was all too sweet a scene.

"Well your transfer circuits appear to be functioning properly," Beverly advised as she conducted a scan with her tricorder.

The scrapes and bruises from his ordeal were healing nicely thanks to the help of the dermal regenerator. There would be no lasting damage.

At least not physically.

"Within established parameters?" Timothy asked.

"Absolutely!" Beverly replied. "Input processing, pattern recognition – all within established parameters."

"Doctor? Seeing as I am already here, I was wondering if you could give me a quick check up with the neural analyser?" Data requested.

This was, of course, all pre-arranged for Timothy's benefit.

Deanna thought it might do him some good to actually 'see' Data's emotions.

"Of course," Beverly said.

She returned a moment later with the proper equipment and began to attach the sensor pads to Data's forehead, neck, and wrists.

The neural analyser was a device that combined EEG, EKG, the pulmonary scanner, and brain activity to read emotion. It represented various emotional reactions on separate pulsating graphs. Red represented anger, yellow was joy or amusement, anxiety or fear were black, disgust was green, blue was sadness, desire was represented by pink, and purple showed confusion.

"Whoa," Timothy said as the screen came to life.

There was a steady beating pulse that represented Data's power cell and coolant system. The screen itself registered a bright shade of yellow, signalling Data was pleased.

In truth, his amusement came in watching Timothy's reaction.

"Data, I'd like to test if the machine is working well. Could I ask you to think about something disgusting?" Beverly asked.

"Mmm," Data agreed.

He made a show of tapping his chin as he tried to focus on things that left him feeling squick.

Timothy watched, wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open as the colour on the screen began to shift to green.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"Disorder," Data answered honestly. "Messy living quarters. A lack of orderliness has always left me feeling… uneasy."

"Oh, right," Timothy replied, nodding enthusiastically.

Timothy made a note to pick up his pyjamas and put them in the garment reprocessor as soon as they were back to Data's quarters.

"And how about something scary?" Beverly asked.

"Alright," Data responded.

He took a slow breath and let his neural net begin to wander through thoughts he would rather avoid – Bruce Maddox, the box, Ira Graves, the thought of losing Tasha.

Timothy's attention was wholly focused on the screen as it shifted from green to a dark grey.

"You really do get scared too," Timothy thought aloud.

"Yes," Data said.

"So you weren't lying when you said you were afraid of losing the people you care about?" Timothy asked.

"I would not lie to you, Timothy. Androids do not lie," Data answered.

Timothy shifted uncomfortably and turned his gaze toward the carpet.

"Would you like to try, Timothy?" Beverly offered.

He shook his head.

"No. Can we go see the dolphins now, Mr Data?" Timothy asked.

---

After Timothy went to sleep that night, Data finally got the chance to get caught up.

It was amazing how little time Data had to complete his own work and activities even with a child that was capable of following instructions, eating, bathing, and playing on his own.

Even after Timothy was down for the night, Data still had an astonishing amount of work.

He needed to clean and sanitise Timothy's lunchbox from the day before, finish their lunch supplies, review Timothy's homework, fill out the permission slip for the field trip to Stellar Cartography, and prepare a lunch for tomorrow.

Sans crust.

In fact, Data was quite pleased with himself. He considered that food was one way to show Timothy that he was cared for.

So one crustless sandwich later, Data had created a culinary masterpiece by carving apples into wee rabbits, making a rainbow of fruit and veg, and a flower with cheese and celery.

He just hoped Timothy found it endearing and not too childish.

After an hour of work, Data finally had the opportunity to settle in at his workstation. He knew he would be in for a long night.

Tasha, Worf, and Geordi were no closer to identifying the cause of the Vico's destruction. Data had devoted so much of himself to Timothy that he'd hardly had a chance to spend any extra time assisting the investigation.

Data had no sooner sat down and pulled up the latest report when he was interrupted by a chime at the door.

"Commander?" Tasha asked, poking her head around the corner.

"He is asleep," Data said.

Tasha grinned.

"Data," she said, making a beeline for his seat so she could pull him into a warm embrace.

Data relaxed into her arms. It had only been a few days, but he missed this feeling. Sure, they had their shifts on the Bridge and they got lunch together in the canteen.

But there was something that left him with a sense of longing when they couldn't fall asleep and wake up together.

"I have not yet had a chance to review the information you and Geordi compiled today," Data confessed.

"Mmm, let's not talk about that now, eh?" Tasha said, nuzzling against his face.

"Forgive me, I am struggling to reconcile my happiness to see you with the workload I have remaining," Data confessed.

"You poor thing," Tasha said, holding his chin. "You've been so good through all of this."

"He is all alone. He has no one left," Data said.

"He has you," Tasha said.

"I fear that I may not be enough," Data said. "In any case, Timothy will not be aboard the Enterprise forever."

The Enterprise had travelled far enough to make contact with Starbase 514. Captain Picard wasn't ready to leave the area yet until they had more information.

But they desperately needed to contact the base to notify Starfleet of the Vico's fate.

Tasha looped her fingers through Data's hand and pulled it into her lap.

"I spoke to Starbase 514 today. The Brennans did have family quarters on the base for when the Vico was not in use," Tasha explained. "Captain Yeardley said Timothy's folks were exemplary officers."

She paused.

"But?" Data inquired.

"But things weren't very happy at home," Tasha said.

She had interviewed several colleagues and neighbours from the base as well as the Counsellor on Starbase 514.

"The Brennans were in the middle of divorce proceedings," Tasha shared.

What had once been considered a dream posting to the Vico had only served to exacerbate the situation when their marriage broke down.

Tasha shook her head.

"You think you've got the opportunity of a lifetime serving together on the same ship and then you wind up stuck sharing quarters when things don't work out," Tasha said with a heavy sigh.

She couldn't imagine how difficult their last days must have been. According to Captain Yeardley of Starbase 514, the Brennans had been trying to get separate assignments for nearly a year.

Data's brow furrowed.

"I do not understand. Surely there were other opportunities," Data remarked.

"They were trying to find a way to both work out of Starbase 514 – either through the science vessels or the base itself – so that they could have a custody arrangement to share Timothy," Tasha explained.

It was the sad reality for far too many families in Starfleet. Far too many spent their lives criss-crossing the galaxy or splitting the kids' time between one location or the next in order to accommodate their parents' postings.

Geordi had grown up in Starfleet and knew it all too well. He never knew if he would be with his father or his mother – sometimes spending half the school year with one parent and the other half in a different location.

"They may not have gotten on with each other, but they loved that little boy," Tasha concluded.

That had been evident from all the conversations she'd had with their neighbours. In spite of the fact their marriage was ending, the Brennans had done everything they could in order to keep Timothy's life from being disrupted.

The Counsellor on Starbase 514 said the family had utilised the services of their office for some time in an effort to make their divorce as seamless as possible for their son.

"But Timothy described them as frequently fighting," Data pointed out.

Tasha nodded.

"Yeah. I'm not condoning their actions – but I can't imagine it was easy living together on a starship with your ex in a space about this size," Tasha said, glancing around the room.

"Well it would explain his parents described marriage as a punishment," Data surmised.

Tasha rested her down against Data's shoulder.

"I can safely say that is one human practise I hope I never experience first-hand," Data said.

"I don't think anybody plans for it," Tasha said.

Truth be told, the whole thing was still about as foreign to her as the concept of marriage was itself.

"Captain Picard wishes to remain here for a time until we can determine with greater certainty what fate befell the Vico," Data said.

"I've asked Lieutenant Barclay to feed our scans into the holodeck. He's creating a holographic replica to study. Worf and I are going to take a look at it tomorrow," Tasha said.

It would give them an opportunity to go over the scene with fresh eyes.

"I wish I could join you," Data said.

"Why don't you stop by before your staff meeting in the afternoon?" Tasha suggested.

A pleading look crossed Data's face.

"Timothy and I have an appointment with Counsellor Troi. I promised we would go to Ten Forward for a root beer float after that," Data said. "I cannot let him down."

"Don't worry, I'll send the scan results to your inbox," Tasha said.

"And when do I get to slip back into your inbox?" Data said in a low voice as he nipped at her neck.

Tasha couldn't help but grin.

"Data," she said in a mock chastising tone.

Data immediately stopped and sat back.

"I apologise. Was that too forward?" he asked.

Tasha giggled.

"Just unexpected," Tasha answered.

Data's face remained neutral. To anyone else, they would have assumed Data simply took her comment in stride. But Tasha could sense Data was overthinking it.

She leaned in close and nuzzled his face.

"I like unexpected," she assured him.

It hardly qualified as a kiss and a cuddle. After a slow, tender peck on the lips, Tasha slipped off Data's lap.

And it was not a moment too soon.

The bedroom door slid open, and Timothy came rushing out. He'd experienced another nightmare. He blew right past Tasha and rushed over to Data's side.

"It was so scary," he sobbed.

"I am here," Data assured him.

Timothy stood back and wiped his eyes.

"I don't want to go to sleep again, Data," Timothy said.

"Would you like to read a story?" Data suggested.

Data and Tasha exchanged a quick look of understanding. She tried to slip out unnoticed, but Timothy realised she was there.

"Lieutenant," he said, switching on his android act.

"Mr Timothy," Tasha replied politely.

"Isn't it kinda late? What are you doing here?" he asked.

Suddenly, Timothy panicked. He leaned in close to Data, eyeing Tasha with great scepticism.

"She's not here for another sleepover, is she?" he whispered.

"No," Data assured him. "Lieutenant Yar just came to submit her a report from her department."

"Ohhhhhh," Timothy said slowly.

"She was just leaving," Data said.

"Goodnight, Timothy," Tasha said before locking eyes with Data. "Goodnight, Commander."

She lingered just a hair longer than necessary, holding his gaze.

"Goodnight, Lieutenant," Data said with an unmistakable sense of longing.

He watched her go, unable to tear his eyes away even in spite of Timothy's presence. As soon as the door closed, Timothy let out a comically loud breath.

"Phew! Glad she's gone. Girls, huh?" Timothy remarked, nudging Data with his elbow.

Data was amused. At the very least, it seemed Timothy was distracted from his nightmare.

---

Tasha sat back on her knees and scowled.

She'd been crawling around on her hands and knees for hours on the holodeck in an effort to try and determine the cause of the Vico's demise.

And she wasn't alone.

Worf, Miles O'Brien, and Wesley were all there too exploring the holodeck recreation Reg Barclay had whipped up for them.

"Lieutenant Yar?" Wesley asked, calling her over. "I think you may want to take a look at this."

"Did you find something?" Tasha asked eagerly.

"I'm not sure," Wesley answered honestly.

Everyone dropped what they were doing and rushed over to Wesley's position. With everyone staring at him expecting some grand reveal, Wesley suddenly felt shy.

"I-I-don't if I actually found anything. And I don't know what it means in terms of weapons or Tactical systems," Wesley said, prefacing his discovery so as not to get their hopes up.

"Wes, at this point anything you've got is a tremendous help," Tasha assured him.

"Well, it's not much," Wesley said.

"More than we've come up with," Miles added.

"What have you found?" Worf asked.

Wesley pulled up his tablet and swiped back to show the results.

"You see these consoles?" Wesley asked.

He pointed at the helm and the communications array to the right of it. The Vico featured an older style Bridge where stations encircled nearly two-thirds of the way around the Command Chair in the centre.

"I don't think this was an explosion. At least not any kind of explosion that follows the rules of physics or chemistry," Wesley said.

He knelt down near the edge of the helm and waved the rest of the team down to follow him.

"These stress fractures indicate this panel was pulled clean out of the bearing plates on the left side. It wasn't forced up by some kind of explosive charge – it was pulled out," Wesley insisted.

Worf locked eyes with Tasha.

"We found no trace of any chemical residue nor signature consistent with a disruptor style explosive device," Worf said.

He'd checked his scan results several times to be certain.

Tasha stood up and surveyed the holographic Bridge.

"Then something literally pulled this ship apart," she thought aloud.

"But we still don't know what caused it," Worf reminded the team. "This was not done by an explosion."

Suddenly, Tasha was struck by an idea.

"I remember reading something in Beverly's medical report," she said, snapping her fingers.

Tasha whipped out her tablet and flipped through the files from the Vico until she found Beverly's report. Because of the damage to the ship, Beverly had not been able to conduct proper autopsies on the victims.

But she did have her initial scans and had been able to take detailed scans on several crew members prior to their hasty escape back to the Calypso.

"Beverly examined nine bodies in total and was able to conduct detailed scans on five of them," Tasha said, reading aloud from the report. "Victims exhibit evidence that blood had pooled in certain parts of the body. Broken bones consistent with extreme force."

Tasha surveyed the room.

"The bodies Beverly examined were here, here, and here," Tasha said, pointing at three separate locations.

"Hmm, that is odd," Worf said, noting the report. "The bodies near the helm had evidence of blood pooled in their lower extremities."

"Yeah," Tasha agreed, checking Beverly's notes.

"But in these over near the turbolift, Doctor Crusher noted their wounds appeared consistent with a mass blood rush or overpressure in the cranium," Worf pointed out.

"Something didn't just rip this ship apart – it literally pulled these people apart. Inside their bodies," Tasha realised. "Gods these poor people."

"Nasty way to go," Miles said in agreement.

Tasha turned to O'Brien.

"Chief? Any theories on what could have done this?" Tasha asked.

"This is beyond anything I've ever seen," Miles said.

---

"Weird," Sonya Gomez remarked.

Geordi paused his work and set down his sonic driver. He checked the time and frowned.

"Weren't you supposed to be off duty like eight hours ago?" Geordi asked.

Sonya looked up from her terminal and waved Geordi over.

"Look at this," she said.

"When was the last time you slept?" Geordi asked, concerned.

Sonya had drunk so much Raktajino in the last twenty-four hours that her hands were shaking more than usual.

"Why don't I take this," Geordi said, pulling a fresh Raktajino out of her trembling hands.

He didn't need her spilling another hot beverage all over Engineering.

"So I was piecing together some of the data fragments from the Vico's computer core," Sonya began to explain.

In their efforts to try and reconstruct the damaged portions, they had discovered many files that were missing key components.

"These were some of the files that lacked any of the underlying data and logs, but the visual charts were undamaged," Sonya explained.

Geordi had to admit she was onto something.

"We don't really know what department collected these files or when. It could have been anyone from Stellar Cartography to Engineering. And since the Vico was primarily a research ship – these may have simply been somebody's side project," Sonya said in one long uninterrupted breath.

"Okay, slow down," Geordi requested.

He glanced at the computer screen and frowned.

"What are we looking at here?" Geordi asked.

On the screen was a graphic. There were numbers and clearly several points being measured. However, Geordi couldn't tell if it was an echo, a sound file, a productivity report – there was really no telling.

Without context, it was difficult to determine just where Sonya's theory was headed.

"Geordi, I think this might represent graviton waves," Sonya said. "Look out the measurement values."

Geordi let out a long, low whistle.

"If these are gravitation fluctuations..," Geordi trailed off.

He didn't want to think about that theory. It left an unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth. There was so little information on the Black Cluster.

The extreme gravitational forces made it difficult to study the area – that was part of why the Vico was specially equipped with extra shielding in order to conduct a more detailed survey of the area.

Starfleet had spent nearly two years overhauling the ship for the mission to the Black Cluster.

"This is nothing like what we've seen before," Geordi said.

Sonya looked up from her console.

"Shoot this over to Data," Geordi ordered. "Let's see what he thinks."

---

Commander Riker studied the screen for a moment before glancing up at Data and Geordi.

"This could be anything," Riker said.

"Correct, but we believe it is graph tracking graviton wavefronts over time," Data said.

Will looked sceptical.

"But these readings are, well, they're nearly off the charts. They don't align with anything we've ever seen out here," Riker protested.

"With all due respect, sir. Starfleet has barely scratched the surface of what's out here," Geordi said.

Riker sat back at his desk as he mulled over Geordi's point.

"We don't know what this is," Riker repeated. "Hell, for all we know this could be somebody tracking their crunches."

Geordi raised an eyebrow.

"Sir, I highly doubt even Data could perform that many crunches without causing damage to his torso unit," Geordi said.

"Okay, okay. It was a stupid suggestion. But you know what I mean," Riker said.

It was an alarming graphic.

"While I admit the later readings on this chart are concerning, the initial informational points correspond to previous Starfleet sensor data from the Black Cluster," Data said. "And I believe it is sufficient enough to merit further study."

Riker sighed.

"I suppose we ought to take this to the Captain," Riker said.

"That would be most prudent, sir," Data replied.

---

Fifteen minutes later, the three were standing in Captain Picard's Ready Room as they briefed him on this latest finding.

"So what do you propose we do, gentlemen?" Picard asked.

Data and Geordi looked at one another.

"Well, we thought it might be a good idea to send a number of probes back," Geordi began.

"Due to the unique gravitational anomalies within the Black Cluster it is necessary to collect readings from a number of sources," Data explained. "We believe twelve to eighteen class-one probes would be sufficient for an initial reading."

Jean-Luc baulked.

Twelve to eighteen?

Initial reading?

Captain Picard sat up behind his desk.

"Mr Data, Mr La Forge, while I have no doubt in your professional opinion – I do have reservations about this plan," Captain Picard said.

Class-one probes were one of the primary resources a starship relied upon for information. They were advanced technology. Due to their components, they were not something that could easily be replicated.

Like photon torpedoes, dilithium crystals, and plasma coolant – these probes could only be resupplied at a Starbase or outpost equipped to handle starship resupply operations.

"Gentlemen, you're talking about expending nearly a third of our probe supply," Picard said. "And this is only the initial round of information gathering?"

"Sir, we recognise this is a huge ask. But given the unique nature of our position, the level of destruction on the Vico, and the risk presented, we believe it is our best option," Data advised.

"We can't risk taking the Enterprise into the Black Cluster, sir," Geordi warned. "But we do need more information."

"It should take approximately seventy-nine hours and eighteen minutes to outfit the probes for the extreme gravitational forces they will encounter," Data added.

Jean-Luc weighed the proposition for a moment.

He was concerned about the risks involved. Given their orders to avoid unnecessary stops, resupply was their primary risk for Romulan interaction.

At the same time, Jean-Luc knew they had an obligation to investigate.

"Alright," Picard agreed. "See to it."

"Thank you, sir," Geordi said.

"Yes, thank you, Captain," Data added.

"Now then, I'd like to discuss-" Jean-Luc began to say.

He was interrupted by a small alarm from Data's system.

"Everything alright, Mr Data?" Picard asked.

"Yes, Captain," Data said.

He closed his eyes and cocked his head to the side as he manually deactivated the alarm.

"Excuse me, I have another engagement," Data said.

---

Timothy was sitting next to Data and across from Deanna in her office.

Deanna believed it was time to try and approach the subject of Timothy's parents' death once more. Timothy had been informed of their deaths. Deanna knew that it was likely Timothy may have seen one or both of them die.

Yet up to that point, Timothy had refused to accept their deaths.

He was still referring to the in the present tense and became tense whenever they spoke of the Vico.

Unbeknownst to Timothy, Tasha and Beverly were watching via a live feed into the office.

They theorised that Tasha's presence as a Security Officer may have been one of the things that triggered Timothy. He was reluctant to talk about the Vico in front of her. So Deanna had suggested she observe via video feed.

They were hoping Timothy might reveal new clues.

So after some initial questions to set Timothy at ease and get a sense of his mental state, Deanna introduced the subject.

"Timothy, do you remember what happened to your mother and father?" Deanna asked.

Timothy was immediately agitated.

"I already told you what happened! There was a boarding party that beamed aboard the ship. They had big disruptors and black helmets," Timothy said frantically.

Deanna could sense fear – real, deeply embedded fear – inside Timothy's mind. But there was something else in there too, a sense of guilt.

"Timothy, you know that you were not responsible for what happened? There is nothing you could have done to prevent it," Deanna assured him in hopes this would ease his misplaced remorse.

Timothy froze.

His mouth went dry, and his chest was tight.

"I know that!" he declared in a heated voice. "I know that!"

"Do you remember what happened to your parents?" Deanna asked.

She was trying to get a sense for just where his head was at, for how much Timothy actually understood as it would shape the rest of their session.

"I already told you!" Timothy repeated.

"Timothy, your mother and father have died. Do you understand what that means?" Deanna asked softly.

"Yes!" he shouted.

Deanna and Data remained silent, giving him space to share his feelings without judgement.

"They left! Mum took me to the Bridge and then she left. She left me! And then daddy told me to go into the canteen with everybody else," Timothy went on.

His eyes began to water, his face went red. His wee hands clenched into fists as he fought back tears.

"Dad told me he was going to come back. But he didn't. He didn't come back. He lied!" Timothy screamed.

He collapsed back against the sofa and wiped away the hot tears that were spilling down over his cheeks.

"They lied," he sniffled.

"Timothy, I know it may feel like they abandoned you. But your parents didn't mean to. Something bad happened and they weren't able to come back for you," Deanna said.

Timothy shook his head.

He didn't believe a word of it.

"No. They lied. They left me. Mum knew she was leaving," Timothy said. "I told you she looked at me funny before she left like she does whenever she leaves for an assignment without me."

Data offered him a tissue from the table. Timothy stopped long enough to blow his nose.

Deanna could tell this wasn't merely a refusal to accept their deaths – Timothy truly believed his parents had abandoned him.

---

In the other room, Tasha closed her eyes and took a slow, steady breath to try and maintain her composure.

She knew that look.

The look that spoke volumes – of love, of regret, of goodbye.

The look that said, 'I'm not coming back.'

Tasha had seen it in her grandmother's face just before mercenaries had overrun their home. It had been in the eyes of Silas, the farmer that had taken her in as a child, during his final moments at a time when he knew full well that he was going to his death.

And she had looked upon her sister, Ishara, with the same expression before they had parted for the final time.

Tasha was still grappling with the misplaced guilt and resentment from those moments.

She knew precisely how Timothy felt.

"Tasha?" Beverly asked.

She opened her eyes and shook her head.

"Sorry, long hours on the holodeck," Tasha said, feigning fatigue.

---

Deanna and Data did their best to assure Timothy that he was not alone. It was a task further complicated by the fact custody of Timothy remained an unsettled issue.

His parents had named no guardian in the event of their deaths. His next closest family was his father's cousin on the New Kraków colony in the Sol sector.

They had never met. And Starfleet was still working to establish contact.

One of the families on Starbase 514 had expressed an interest. They had a child a little younger than Timothy and had been neighbours with the Brennan family.

In all likelihood, the matter would end up being resolved by Starfleet Internal Affairs in conjunction with a decision by the Judge Advocate General's office.

"Do you have any questions, Timothy? Data and I are both here to help if you do," Deanna said.

"It is okay if you would like time to think about it," Data offered.

Timothy looked over at Data.

"Can we go to Ten Forward now?" Timothy asked.

He just wanted to get out of Deanna's office, to be done with their session as quickly as possible.

Deanna nodded, conveying to Data that it was time to end the session.

---

"I'll take three water rations and I want to exchange my surplus stembolts for a new colonist token," Deanna said.

It was girls' night and Beverly, Tasha, and Deanna were enjoying a wee bevvy sesh over a strategy game known as Star Coloniser.

"I know what you're planning," Beverly said in a warning voice.

Deanna responded with a smug, satisfied look as she picked up her new supply tokens.

"You're not getting the longest trade route," Beverly declared.

"We'll see," Deanna replied with a coy look.

"It's your turn, Tasha," Beverly said.

"Hmm?" Tasha replied in a faraway voice.

Her mind was lightyears away.

"It's your turn," Beverly repeated, handing her the dice.

"Are you alright?" Deanna asked.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," Tasha said.

She rolled the dice and quickly moved her piece, swapping a food store card and a travel pass for an expansion chip allowing her to claim another region on the map.

When she was done, she looked up, waiting for Beverly and Deanna to continue.

"You're move," Tasha said, turning the dice over to Beverly.

Beverly frowned.

"What's wrong? You've been distant ever since this afternoon," Beverly said.

"I'm fine, really," Tasha insisted.

"You know it's pointless trying to lie to me," Deanna reminded her.

Tasha groaned.

"Look, I just… I know what Timothy's going through," Tasha said, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

"It's hard to lose a parent. Losing both of them in such a violent manner will take time to process," Deanna said.

Tasha shook her head.

"No, no that's what I mean," Tasha said.

Tasha scrunched up her face and tried to find the right words.

"I know you lost your father," she said looking at Deanna. "And I know you lost Jack and have had to navigate raising Wesley on your own."

Tasha paused and closed her eyes.

"But when Timothy talked about his last moments with his mother, that look," Tasha tried to explain. "That look that you're never going to see your child again."

It was difficult to describe.

"I know that look. At least, I know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of it," Tasha shared. "How unfair it feels to be left alone, abandoned. How angry it makes you - knowing you have so much responsibility thrust upon you."

Tasha still had unresolved trauma from those moments.

She turned her gaze out the window, allowing herself a moment of vulnerability in the presence of her closest friends.

"And the struggle between that anger of what feels like betrayal and the guilt of knowing they genuinely were trying to do what was best-"

Tasha trailed off, dropping her eyes to her lap as she picked at her fingernails.

As a child, Tasha had felt utterly unprepared for the enormous responsibility of caring for her younger siblings. She had been a child herself.

But she also knew that her grandmother had faced an impossible choice.

"She told me to run and never look back," Tasha said, recalling that awful night.

"I often thought about what my father would have said to me or done if he'd have known he wasn't going to come home," Deanna confessed. "What those final moments would have been like."

It was a question that had weighed on her mind since her father's death more that twenty years earlier.

"But the more I think about it, I'm glad it happened the way it did," Deanna said. "That neither of us knew."

"Jack and I used to switch off getting Wes ready in the morning," Beverly shared.

Beverly and Wesley had moved to a Starbase shortly before Jack's death. He was planning to transfer off the Stargazer and join them when the year was up.

He never made it.

"That last morning before Jack went back, he insisted on getting Wes ready – even though he'd been up all night helping me get everything sorted in our new home," Beverly said. "I wasn't feeling well, and I was so awful to him."

She was furious Jack had decided to complete his tour on the Stargazer before joining them. At the time, Beverly was concerned she would be raising Wes alone for four months.

She never anticipated the arrangement would become permanent.

"I've never told anyone this except Jean-Luc, I had just found out I was pregnant again," Beverly said. "It was part of why we decided to make the move to a starbase. We hadn't told anyone yet – not even my grandmother."

Beverly thought it was probably all for the best. She'd miscarried shortly thereafter. Having not shared the news with anyone yet made it easier for her to move forward.

"I had no idea," Tasha said as she gave Beverly's hand a reassuring squeeze.

"It's alright," Beverly said. "I've long since come to terms with it. And, honestly, I'm glad it happened the way it did. Wesley's always been more than enough for me."

She was perfectly content with having one child. Wesley was all she could have asked for and more.

Beverly bit her lip and sighed.

"You know, as a parent, I'm not really sure what's better – knowing you'll never see your child again or blissful ignorance," she remarked. "I know I could never make that choice."

---

That night, Tasha stopped by Data's quarters on her way home.

It was a late hour and Timothy was fast asleep.

So Data and Tasha met briefly in the dark corner of the corridor. There was a small view window near the lift. It was hardly the most romantic of settings, but they were simply glad to get a chance to check in.

And after Timothy's rough day in counselling, Tasha thought it best to keep a healthy distance so he didn't feel like they were pressuring him.

Tasha looped her fingers through Data's and brought his hand to her chest.

"How are you doing with all this?" Tasha asked, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Data's hand.

"I am func-"

Data stopped himself.

"I am coping," he settled on.

Data was still coming to terms with his own trauma from the recent incident with Ira Graves. The intrusive thoughts remained.

"I have not had any nightmares since our last evening together," Data informed her.

Tasha flashed him a small smile.

"That's great," she said.

"We will have much to discuss during our next counselling session," Data said.

"Yeah," Tasha agreed.

From the tone of her voice, Data could tell there was something occupying her mind. He could also sense it likely stemmed from Timothy's counselling session.

"Tasha? Has Timothy's situation resurfaced memories of your own childhood?" Data prompted.

"Just in the sense that I know what he's going through. How conflicted he must feel," Tasha acknowledged. "It's an awful lot of emotion for one person to handle – especially for someone so young."

Data reached up to caress her face. Tasha closed her eyes as his fingers ghosted over her cheek.

"I wish I could be there for you tonight," Data said.

Tasha opened her eyes and smiled.

"You are," Tasha assured him. "You always are."

She planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

"You'll be back in my bed soon," Tasha promised. "And until then, I'll be holding you in my heart."

---

With Captain Picard's blessing, the Engineering team worked around the clock in order to complete the necessary preparations for the probes.

Unfortunately, the complexity of the workload meant the team was running behind schedule.

The problem was further exasperated by Data's limited ability to help out. Between his responsibilities as Second Officer, Chief of Operations, and Chief of Sciences, Data was already strapped for time.

The addition of his new caretaker role meant Data couldn't simply slip away and work overnight.

He had to remain in or close to his quarters to be on hand for Timothy in case he experienced another nightmare. Disturbing dreams were a nightly occurrence.

In fact, Timothy was so distraught he sought to avoid the possibility altogether. He fought sleep with all the righteous fury a child could muster before his body gave out and his eyes felt heavy.

Data had decided to lean into it – occupying Timothy with activities designed to tucker out the little lad rather than ordering him to bed.

You've got a knack for this. Deanna had remarked when Data ran his plan by her.

It made Data's metaphorical heart swell with pride to know he was doing something right.

---

Ten days after they had first brought Timothy onboard, Data and the boy had slipped into an easy routine.

The circumstances that had brought them together were tragic. Data remained concerned about Timothy's emotional well-being and his struggle to process the trauma of such an experience.

Data found that in spite of this, he enjoyed their time together.

There were moments – far too many of them – where Data was fascinated by the way Timothy interacted with the world around him.

He was keen to learn, history being his best subject.

The investigation of the Black Cluster was still underway, and the question of Timothy's guardianship remained unresolved.

There was no telling how long Timothy would be with them.

So, Data was helping Timothy build a project for the Enterprise Primary School carnival where the students had the opportunity to show off a project that was personal to them.

Timothy was quite a bit behind the others in terms of creating his own presentation for the event. Yet with Data's help, they were expecting to complete the project in time.

History being a favourite, Timothy had opted to look at the history of ships that had carried the name Enterprise.

And after seeing Data's Royal Navy holodeck costume from Geordi's Age of Sail programme, Timothy knew exactly what he wanted to do.

It offered Timothy a specific task where he could focus his energy.

One of the things Data most appreciated about Timothy was the way he approached the world. Timothy wasn't afraid to ask questions that older humans often found to be 'impolite.'

It reminded Data of his own earliest days of activation.

Timothy's curiosity knew no bounds. He enjoyed long, informative conversations on a variety of niche subjects.

It was refreshing.

---

"Ok, but why?" Tasha asked.

She dodged left just in time to avoid a jab from Worf.

"Let's say I'm out to get a starship – why destroy it in this way?" Tasha asked.

Worf swung.

Tasha ducked.

They were dancing around the ring on the holodeck. It had been a long day in the Security office. So Tasha and Worf had slipped on their gloves, mouthguards, and trainers and jumped in for a quick sparring session in the boxing ring.

"Fear," Worf said with a casual shrug.

"But why?" Tasha pressed.

Tasha landed two jabs on his torso before Worf got her with a right hook. Tasha stumbled but was back up on her feet in a matter of seconds.

She wiped the perspiration off her brow and then resumed her stance.

"Perhaps the perpetrators wanted to instil a sense of terror? This could be an effort to intimidate others," Worf suggested, proud of himself for landing another jab.

Tasha responded in kind with a cross – left hook – cross combo.

"When the House of Julok had a territory dispute with a rival Klingon house, they did not merely kill the rival faction – they tore apart their bodies and sent them to other houses as a warning," Worf explained. "Challenge the House of Julok and this will be your fate."

Worf jumped to the left. But he was just a second too slow to miss the blow she landed on his torso.

"It could be why we found Timothy. A sole survivor to pass along the warning," Worf theorised.

Tasha frowned.

"I don't get it," Tasha said, breathing hard. "If the point is to send a message – why place it in the middle of a graveyard."

Suddenly she stopped, winded. Tasha put her hand up and waved to stop. She lifted her arms overhead as she caught her breath.

"I mean, it's a miracle we even found the Vico in the first place," she pointed out.

Worf climbed out of the ring and made a beeline for his duffle bag.

"Unless this isn't an attack at all," Worf said, handing Tasha a canteen of cold water.

"Thanks," Tasha said.

She took a long swig and then used the condensation on the bottle to cool the back of her neck.

"Then maybe this thing is some sort of phenomena," Tasha said.

"Stranger things have happened," Worf commented.

The Enterprise had certainly encountered her fair share of the unprecedented and weird. Between anomalies, alien entities, cosmic strings, and black holes – some days it felt like there was nothing left that could shock them.

"I gotta admit I'm not so sure which of these prospects is more disconcerting," Tasha confessed.

Worf quirked an eyebrow in her direction.

"We can plan for an attack. But I don't know how to protect us from the unknown," Tasha said.

---

The next morning, the entire team was assembled on the Observation Lounge for their morning briefing.

"The Black Cluster was formed almost nine billion years ago when hundreds of protostars collapsed in close proximity. The resulting gravitational forces are both violent and highly unpredictable," Data explained.

"To get anywhere near the centre a ship has to push through extreme gravitation wavefronts," Geordi went on. "They can cause severe damage to a ship or even a probe if it hasn't been properly outfitted."

"But I thought the Vico was designed specifically for this mission?" Deanna questioned.

"It was," Data said.

He tapped his tablet to bring up a diagram of the Vico.

"The Vico was designed to handle extreme gravitational forces. Those specifications were based on two previous Starfleet scientific surveys of the Black Cluster taken in 2308 and 2332 respectively," Data explained.

The viewscreen changed to a new image – the graphic Sonya had found.

"This was recovered from the computer core on the Vico. We believe it may represent new gravitational wavefront readings in the area," Data explained.

Tasha blinked slowly.

She didn't need an engineering background to understand the wavefront strength was far beyond anything they had anticipated.

"We are making the final preparations to launch a series of class-one probes into the Cluster," Geordi said. "And we've done everything we can to outfit them for these stronger gravitational fluctuations but-"

Geordi paused.

"But what?" Worf prompted.

"But if these readings are accurate, well, it's unlikely anything we've seen before," Geordi said.

"Enough that even with our modifications there's a good chance those wavefronts will crush these probes like a tin can," Miles explained.

Worf scowled.

"Then why send them at all if they will only be destroyed?" he inquired.

It was a question shared by most of the room.

"Because we may learn valuable information before they're destroyed," Geordi said.

"The possibility of destruction is, in part, why it is necessary to send so many probes," Data shared.

He clicked his tablet and brought up a map that displayed the planned launch coordinates for the probes.

"By sending out a fleet of probes in this pattern we should be able to obtain a decent sample size to confirm these readings," Data said.

"We should have preliminary data back in twenty-four hours," Geordi said.

It had been eleven days and they were closer to determining the cause of the Vico's demise. Jean-Luc turned his attention to Tasha.

"And how are things coming on the attack theory?" Picard asked. "Your initial report mentioned this would be the perfect place for a ship to hide."

Tasha nodded slowly.

"It did, sir. And it would be. The gravitational forces affect sensor accuracy. Detecting an enemy vessel would be difficult," Tasha said.

"Then maybe that's what happened to the Vico," Riker said. "They didn't see anything coming until it was too late."

Worf leaned forward in his seat.

"The same fluctuations that make it difficult to detect other ships would also make it nearly impossible to lock onto another vessel. It would be just as hard to stage an attack as it would be to detect one," Worf said.

"But Timothy described a boarding party?" Beverly asked.

"I think that's highly unlikely," Tasha said.

"Has the boy volunteered any further information?" Picard questioned.

"No," Deanna said. "Mentally, he's not ready to talk about what happened. There's a block there. He's suppressing the memory of that event. He's in denial about what really occurred."

Jean-Luc sat back in his seat and sighed.

"I don't want to pressure a child, but we are in desperate need of information, and he is the only person that witnessed what happened out there," Picard said.

"Sir, I think Timothy just wants this all to go away. I don't think pushing him is a good idea," Deanna said. "He's telling us what he thinks we want to hear."

Jean-Luc grumbled internally.

"Alright. If there is a possibility of getting more from him, I'd like you to pursue it," Picard ordered. "The same for you, Mr Data. Until then, we'll continue our investigation. Dismissed."

---

"So I was thinking that the next time we get a chance to stop off at Starbase, I would pick up the new Icy Waters arctic expansion pack," Sonya said.

Geordi's face lit up.

"It's got twelve new ships, three captains, and there's a bunch of new scenarios that come included," Sonya explained.

It was shortly after midnight. Geordi had trouble sleeping and so he decided to pop down to Engineering and join Sonya during her overnight lunchbreak.

They were sitting in the canteen on deck twelve, staring out at the stars, and discussing the latest Age of Sail updates over a pizza.

"I think that sounds like a great plan," Geordi said.

Sonya grinned back over a slice of mushroom with extra cheese.

"You know it might be a while before we're allowed leave to a starbase again," Geordi said.

"Mmmm," Sonya said, chewing.

Geordi glanced out into the expanse of space. It was one of the rare moments where the Enterprise was in a standstill, and he could truly appreciate the beauty of the view.

Internally, he debated whether or not to say something that had weighed on his mind for some time.

"Can I ask you something?" Geordi said suddenly. "And it's okay to say no."

"Yeah," Sonya replied with a nod.

Geordi's hand shot out across the table and gripped her own.

"If we ever get off this ship again," Geordi began. "Would you want to take a trip with me? A starbase or maybe one of those cruises Beverly's always talking about?"

Geordi regretted his words the minute they left his mouth.

Sonya opened her mouth to speak, but Geordi cut her off.

"No, you don't need to say anything. I feel like such a fool. Forget I ever mentioned it," Geordi said quickly.

"Geordi-"

"I shouldn't have even brought it up. I don't what I was thinking," Geordi went on, muttering to himself.

"Geordi-" Sonya protested.

"I mean it's not like we're getting off the ship anytime soon. Even Data and Tasha have to wait to-"

"Geordi!" Sonya said loud enough to catch his attention.

He fell silent.

"Give me a chance to respond, will ya?" Sonya asked.

"You don't have to-"

"I was going to say yes," Sonya explained.

Geordi's eyebrows shot up.

Sonya frowned.

"Wait, what were you going to say about Commander Data and Lieutenant Yar?" Sonya asked.

"N-nothing," Geordi lied, feigning a nonchalant attitude.

Sonya wasn't buying it for a minute.

"Geordi, you have many talents. Lying isn't one of them," Sonya said with a knowing look.

"Look-"

Geordi paused.

A sudden, powerful force shook the Enterprise almost like a small earthquake. Geordi gripped the table in anticipation of something more violent – but it didn't come.

It was enough to shake Sonya's hot cocoa, but not enough to cause any major damage to the ship.

As soon as it stopped, Geordi and Sonya looked at one another. They both waited in silence for several seconds in case to confirm it was really over.

"We should get to Engineering," Geordi said.

---

Several decks up, Data also felt the tremor.

He was sitting at his workstation when it hit. The entire event lasted for one minute and nineteen seconds.

Data's neural net surged as he began to theorise a cause. They were outside of the Black Cluster – far enough away that they shouldn't be feeling an impact from the gravitational fluctuations.

Data reached for his combadge – but the bedroom door slid open, and Timothy came rushing out. The motion had been strong enough to rouse him from his sleep.

He stopped just shy of Data's workstation.

"It's happening again," Timothy exclaimed.

He was terrified.

Again? Data thought.

"Timothy, did this occur on the Vico before it was destroyed?" Data asked.

Timothy scrunched up his face and started to cry.

"Timothy? Have you experienced this before?" Data asked.

Timothy was too afraid to answer.

"We must get to Main Engineering," Data declared.

"No!" Timothy shrieked, grabbing Data, and pleading with him to stay.

Data didn't want to leave him alone – but he knew that he needed to get down to Engineering and check the logs and sensors.

"Please don't go out there," Timothy said.

He clutched Data, trying to hold him back.

"Don't leave me," Timothy begged.

Data was torn.

And the tiny hands clenched around the hem of his uniform were making it hard to balance his duty as Second officer with his obligation to Timothy.

"You may accompany me," Data said.

---

The corridor was a flurry of activity. Timothy wasn't the only one awoken by the tremor.

Families were spilling out in the corridor in search of answers.

"Commander? Do you know what's going on?" Lieutenant Isaacson asked.

"Sir? Should we report to our duty stations?" Lieutenant Commander Petrie asked. "Are you headed to the Bridge?"

For Timothy, it was all too reminiscent of his final moments with his mother.

"Please remain in your quarters. I am sure there will be an announcement soon," Data said.

As if on cue, Lieutenant Hawk's voice rang out over a ship-wide channel. Hawk was the duty officer on the Bridge for Night Watch.

"We have experienced a small gravitational fluctuation. Please remain in your quarters," Hawk announced.

Data tried to move through the crowd but found Timothy was stuck in place.

He was staring at nothing, his breathing laboured.

"Timothy?" Data asked.

Timothy was in a daze as his mind spiralled. He could hear the klaxons on the Vico. He could taste the acrid, burnt smell of the exploded consoles.

It overwhelmed his senses.

And in the midst of a crowded corridor, Timothy felt both alone and entirely too suffocated all at once.

Data knelt down in front of him.

"Timothy?" he repeated.

---

"It was a minor gravitational wavefront," Geordi said.

"I thought that was only supposed to happen inside the Black Cluster?" Commander Riker asked.

"I think it is safe to say that we can no longer assume anything about the behaviour of these wavefronts," Data said.

He glanced down at Timothy who had refused to leave his side since entering Engineering. He clung to Data. It was as if he was afraid to touch anything.

The tremor had shaken the whole ship and the senior officers had rushed into duty – Tasha and Worf were on the Bridge monitoring the shields and assembling a team in case they needed to start evacuating personnel to designated safe zones.

Beverly was standby in Sickbay preparing for the possibility of incoming wounded.

Data, Geordi, and Miles were down in Engineering trying to determine what had occurred and where the fluctuation had originated.

"Mr Data, do you believe this warrants a saucer separation?" Picard inquired. "We could send most of our personnel back to safety and away from the edge of the Black Cluster."

"Sir, I do not believe we should separate," Data answered honestly.

He had considered – and implemented – just such a step when they were dealing with the incident on Minos.

There were a number of significant risks in taking such action. The saucer would be forced to travel back through an area of space that was filled with threats. Ferengi looking to make a quick strip of latinum were out there and Breen raiders roamed the area.

Without the drive section, the saucer would be unable to outrun those ships. It would be completely vulnerable.

In addition to the threats from outside forces, the Black Cluster in and of itself posed a considerable risk. Even outside of the Cluster, the extreme gravitational forces could wreak havoc on sensor readings throughout the entire corridor of space.

"Moving through this sector with inaccurate readings and at such a low speed would not be advisable," Data said before adding, "Particularly if these wavefronts are expanding beyond the known boundaries of the Black Cluster itself."

"Data, I need you on this," Picard said.

Just in time, Deanna stepped into Engineering.

"Hi Timothy, would you like to come with me and get a late night cup of cocoa?" Deanna suggested, offering her hand.

Timothy eyed it with suspicion before turning and burying his face against Data.

"You know the hot cocoa tastes even better after midnight," Deanna said, hoping to tempt him.

"I'm not leaving," Timothy insisted.

Deanna could sense just how strong Timothy's separation anxiety was. So she decided to start with a smaller step.

"Why don't we get a hot chocolate from the replicator in the canteen one deck up? We can bring something back for Mr Data," Deanna suggested. "I'm sure he could use it."

"Oh yes," Data agreed, catching on. "I would greatly appreciate a hot, caffeinated beverage."

That was all the motivation Timothy needed.

---

Timothy and Deanna rode in silence on the lift up to reach the canteen on the next deck.

To Deanna's relief, the canteen was largely abandoned.

Timothy kept his line of sight fixated on the replicator.

"Would you like to put in the order?" Deanna asked.

Timothy shook his head.

"No. I don't want to touch anything. I don't want to screw it up," Timothy replied quickly.

"Oh, I'm sure it will be alright," Deanna assured him.

"No!" Timothy insisted.

The fear of making a mistake was fast becoming a recurring motif.

"Timothy, can I ask why you are worried about making a mistake?" Deanna inquired.

"Androids do not make mistakes," Timothy answered.

---

By 03:00, everyone on board was wide awake.

There had been two more tremors – roughly the same size and length of the last.

It wasn't enough to cause any damage.

But the fear it created was very real.

"Sir, there's another wavefront approaching the perimeter. I'm picking up a slight increase," Worf advised.

"Back us off, Mr Hawk," Picard ordered.

With all the activity, Jean-Luc had resumed his typical seat in the Command Chair.

"Raise shields an additional thirty-five percent," Picard instructed.

Tasha tapped her console and slid the touchscreen control up to the appropriate level.

"Shields up, sir," Tasha responded.

It wasn't a moment too soon.

A fourth wave rocked the Enterprise – more powerful than the last three and enough to send the Bridge crew stumbling.

"Report?" Picard demanded.

"Minor damage to the aft sections of decks eleven through thirteen," Riker said.

With Data down in Engineering, Riker was temporarily sitting in at Operations.

"Shields are holding," Tasha reported.

"Sir, I'm detecting another wavefront building. Estimated impact in eight minutes and forty-seven seconds," Worf announced.

"Mr Hawk, lay in a course to take us out of here," Picard ordered.

There was no use in waiting around. Jean-Luc wasn't ready to put the Enterprise at risk.

Hawked keyed in the coordinates to take them a reasonable distance from the area, plotting a direct route back toward Federation space.

"Captain," Data's voice rang out. "Do not engage the warp drive."

Hawk's hand hovered just above the console.

"Stand down, Lieutenant," Picard ordered before tapping his communicator. "Impulse engines, Data? We've got another wavefront inbound."

"Yes, sir," Data said.

"Data, get up here. We need you on the Bridge," Picard ordered.

---

"Timothy, Data has to go to the Bridge now," Deanna said.

"You will be safe with Counsellor Troi," Data said. "You may return to my quarters. You could rehearse your presentation."

Data hoped such a suggestion would be enough to get Timothy to follow Deanna.

"No, please," Timothy pleaded. "I want to go with you."

He just wanted to escape back to the safety of Data's quarters. In his mind, nothing bad could happen – not when he was with Data.

"I will return once my duties are complete," Data assured him.

"But you can't promise me," Timothy said.

His little lip began to quiver.

"You can't promise that," Timothy repeated.

---

The whole lift ride to the Bridge, Timothy kept a tight grip on Data's hand. Deanna came along as well.

They rode mostly in silence.

Just before the were about to disembark, Data knelt down so that he was eye level with Timothy.

"Timothy, androids are always well behaved on the Bridge. The team is counting on us," Data began. "Do you understand it is very important to be quiet and not touch anything?"

Timothy's breathing began to change.

"I will need to perform my duties to keep us all safe, okay?" Data went on.

Timothy began to panic.

"What if I mess up?" Timothy asked. "Wh-what if I bump into something?"

"I know you will do great," Data said to bolster his confidence.

"But what if I don't?" Timothy argued.

The lift doors opened, and Timothy backed away toward the wall. He felt dizzy, like he'd spun around on the whirligig play station at school one too many times without a break.

His heart rate had increased. Timothy felt like no matter how hard or fast he gulped air, he simply couldn't catch his breath.

"Please, Data," Timothy urged, tugging on Data's arm. "Please, can we just go back to your quarters?"

Data could hear the reports coming in from just outside the lift.

"Wavefront intensity is increasing," Worf announced.

"Sir, impulse engines will not be enough to outrun this," Hawk advised.

"Impact in forty-six seconds," Tasha said.

"Timothy, I have to perform my duties now," Data said.

"No, no, no," Timothy argued, trying to pull Data back into the lift.

Deanna realised that Timothy's anxiety likely stemmed from the fear of returning to the Bridge. The last time he'd gone to the Bridge on a starship, his entire world had been destroyed.

"You may join me on the Bridge, or you may return to my quarters with Counsellor Troi," Data explained.

"No! I'm not going! Please don't make me go back there!" Timothy shouted.

"Go," Deanna said.

Tasha could see they were struggling.

"I will return as soon as we are safe," Data said.

Timothy reached his breaking point – he bolted for the door to follow Data. His fear of the Bridge was intense. But the anxiety of being separated from his protector was too much to bear.

Deanna had her hands full trying to hold Timothy back.

Rushing onto the Bridge could result in Timothy or any one of them getting hurt. Furthermore, things could get ugly. Deanna was concerned that the atmosphere on the Bridge combined with additional wavefronts could traumatise Timothy all over again.

Timothy kicked Deanna in the shin. She yelped and released her grip. Timothy rushed off the lift after Data.

Tasha was quick to intervene.

She had taken down far larger targets than Timothy – Cardassian troopers, Talarian foot soldiers, even Worf.

But it was astounding how a four foot tall four and half stone child could put up a better fight than even the drunkest, burliest men she'd hauled to the Brig.

"Tasha, we have to-" Deanna began to say, hissing as she tried to get up.

"I know," Tasha assured her as she ushered Timothy into Captain Picard's Ready Room.

With the incoming wavefront, Tasha didn't want to risk being inside a turbolift when the ship shook.

"Computer, level one security lock authorisation Yar – Chi - Delta – Two – Four," Tasha ordered.

Tasha set Timothy down in front of her. She felt awful. It was evident he was terrified and pulling him off the Bridge in such a manner had no doubt compounded his fear.

But Tasha knew it was their only option.

She dropped to her knees in front of Timothy.

"This is very scary," Tasha acknowledged. "I'm right here and I'm going to be here with you."

All of a sudden, the ship was hit with a powerful wavefront.

It rocked the Enterprise. Captain Picard's books came tumbling off the shelf. His computer flew into the wall and shattered. Water sloshed out of Livingston's tank.

Timothy went flying back into the desk.

Tasha scrambled over and pulled him into a tight embrace, mindful to keep low as the room shook apart around them.

"This won't last forever. I'm right here and I'm going to stay right here with you until it's safe," Tasha assured him.

Timothy's whole body was shaking.

"This is going to end soon," Tasha said.

Timothy squeezed his eyes shut. He was too frightened to scream.

"Computer turn off notifications and alerts in this room," Tasha ordered.

The Red Alert siren within the Captain's Ready Room stopped. They could still hear it through the walls coming from Bridge. But the sound was muffled, and it helped ease the tension just a little.

"I want… I… Data," Timothy managed to choke out.

He was having difficulty speaking.

"Data is right outside the door, keeping you safe," Tasha said.

Timothy whimpered as another powerful shockwave rocked the Enterprise.

Tasha glanced around the room to try and determine the safest place. The wave pattern seemed to be growing stronger. There was no telling how long it may last or how powerful the waves would grow.

There weren't many places to hide in the Ready Room but Tasha was fairly certain they could both fit under the desk. It would offer limited protection from falling objects.

She moved to pull Timothy that way, but he was unnerved.

"Don't go," he pleaded, clutching Tasha's arms.

Tasha cupped his face.

"I am not going to leave you," Tasha promised. "I'm right here and I'm going to stay right here with you."

---

Jean-Luc gripped the edge of his seat as the shockwave rippled over the Bridge.

"Drop to one quarter impulse," Picard ordered.

They couldn't outrun the gravitational fluctuations and Captain Picard realised they were just burning energy that could be rerouted to the shields.

"Shields took a hit. Down to sixty-eight percent," Worf said.

The moment Tasha had slipped away with Timothy, Worf had stepped in to take over the Tactical position.

Captain Picard tapped his communicator.

"Bridge to Engineering," Picard said.

---

"We're adjusting shield frequencies now, Captain," Geordi said, anticipating the Captain's order. "We'll have this smoothed out in just a second."

Geordi was multitasking – working on the main console to manually adjust the shield grid frequency as he spoke.

It was all hands on deck in Main Engineering.

Miles was just across from him trying to work a miracle in syphoning additional power away from any and all secondary systems, inactive labs, and even the environmental controls.

"If this pattern continues, there's another wave inbound. La Forge?" Picard asked.

"We're working on it, sir," Geordi responded.

---

Tasha and Timothy were huddled together under the Captain's desk. She was massaging his hands and trying to guide his breathing in an effort to help manage Timothy's anxiety.

Without warning, the lights flickered and then suddenly went dark.

Timothy gasped.

"It's alright," Tasha said. "They're just rerouting power to the shields. It's to protect us."

Timothy whined.

"No," he said, his voice full of terror.

"This will all be over soon," Tasha said in a soothing voice.

"No. No, that's what they kept saying. More power to the shields! More power to the shields!" Timothy exclaimed.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to wish away the memory of his final moments on the Vico.

"Data! Data! Data, get me out of here!" Timothy screamed.

---

"Captain, I am reading something at four hundred thousand kilometres off the starboard bow," Worf said.

He frowned.

"Possibly a ship," Worf announced.

The sensor readings were unusual, and it was difficult to determine just what they were picking up.

"Any indication as to the identity?" Picard asked.

Worf hesitated to respond.

"Mr Worf?" Picard prompted.

"Sensor readings have disappeared. Wait, I am picking up another reading at four hundred thousand kilometres off the port bow," Worf said, confused.

Over at Operations, Data's hands whizzed across the screen as he tried to manually reconcile all the discrepancies in all the different sensor readings.

Worf growled.

"It's gone," Worf said. "No, no – it's back. I'm picking it up again."

"Mr Hawk, take us to visual range," Picard ordered.

If they couldn't rely on sensors, visual identification was their next option.

Without looking away from his work, Data pieced together what they were experiencing.

"Captain, the Black Cluster is distorting the sensors. We are picking up echoes of the Enterprise reflecting off the wavefronts," Data said.

It meant the same issues that had compounded their journey through the Black Cluster with Calypso were now plaguing the Enterprise.

"All stop!" Picard ordered without hesitation.

There was no way they could accurately fly a ship the size of the Enterprise without functioning navigation. It ran too great a risk of hitting another vessel or object.

"Can you adjust the sensors to compensate, Mr Data?" Picard asked.

"No," Data answered honestly. "I am attempting to compensate manually."

There was a distinct strain in his voice indicating that he was under great pressure.

"It will be just like the Calypso. You've got this!" Riker said, hoping to encourage Data.

Only Data didn't feel encouraged. In fact, he was having trouble even finding the mental capacity to listen to the rest of the crew while he worked.

The Enterprise was a far larger ship than the Calypso.

If Data could perspire, he would have been dripping onto his screen.

As he worked, a dark thought crept into the recess of Data's mind. He had limited capacity to run the calculations, but enough information to form a hypothesis.

"Sir, I believe that these wavefronts were amplified and projected beyond the Black Cluster by the fleet of probes we sent," Data said.

"Data, I want you at the helm. Warp us out of here," Picard ordered.

"Sir, I would advise against that," Data said.

Data stopped working and whipped around in his seat.

"Permission to conduct an experiment, Captain?" Data inquired.

"By all means," Picard said.

They were like fish in a barrel in their current position. Anything would be better than sitting and waiting for the next series of wavefronts to hit.

Data got up from his station and swept to the back of the Bridge.

"Sensors have been rendered ineffective by the field distortion," Data said.

Worf stepped aside to allow Data to access the Tactical station.

"I am recalibrating out phasers for a limited spectrum, maximum intensity burst at zero zero one mark zero four five," Data explained.

In a flash, he was over to Science Station Two.

"When I give the word, fire phasers," Data said.

His hands were a blur as he worked to recalibrate the sensors that were located directly on the hull of the Enterprise and route them to transmit visual readings to the viewscreen.

"Fire," Data ordered.

"Firing phasers," Worf said.

They all watched a single shot branched off in every direction before reflecting back onto the hull of the Enterprise.

The entire ship shook violently as the projected phaser blast hit the hull. It was confirmation of Data's theory.

"Sir, it's a reflection phenomenon," Data said.

"What does that mean, Data?" Riker asked.

"It means we are trapped inside an echo chamber," Data answered. "One that is reflecting everything we launch or project out of the ship back at us – including the ship's movements."

"Like a hall of mirrors," Picard said.

Another powerful blow knocked the ship around – sending people out their seats and tumbling to the floor.

"Shields up! Reroute power from all systems. Put everything we've got into the shields. Hopefully we can ride this out," Picard ordered.

Data's neural net sparked.

Now free of the obligation to focus on the Operations console, he had the processing capacity to think clearly.

Timothy's words from before echoed in his mind.

More power to the shields. That's what they kept saying.

"Shields at seventy-nine percent and climbing," Worf reported as Engineering dumped all the extra power they could muster into the shields.

---

Data manually opened the door that led to Captain Picard's Ready Room.

He quickly surveyed the damage before he identified Tasha and Timothy under the desk.

Data ducked down to join them.

"Timothy, I need you to tell me exactly what happened on the Vico," Data said.

"I did tell you," Timothy said.

He turned away, refusing to look at him.

"Tell us again," Tasha requested.

"We were attacked! We were attacked!" Timothy insisted.

Data cocked his head to the side.

"Timothy, androids do not lie," Data said.

Timothy felt like the world he had rebuilt was beginning to collapse. He couldn't face the truth nor even admit it to himself – let alone confess it to Data.

Data would probably hate him.

Data was about to press further when Tasha whispered something in Timothy's ear. Data watched with fascination as his expression changed. Sorrow and fear melted away to a look that almost resembled hope.

For a few seconds they whispered to one another. The conversation was at such a low volume and there were so many extra sounds that Data couldn't isolate it.

Timothy glanced down at his hands and began to fidget.

He mumbled something in such a soft voice that neither Data nor Tasha could decipher it.

"Timothy?" Data prompted.

"It was me," Timothy whispered.

He expected to be rebuked, rejected. Only Data didn't raise his voice or offer a chastising word. Tasha didn't toss him aside, she was still holding his hands.

"Please explain," Data requested.

Timothy was stunned. He looked back and forth between the two of them.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Tasha asked.

Timothy sat back and wiped his eyes.

"I did it. I killed them all. Everybody. Captain Lewis. My teacher. My friends."

Timothy sniffled and his voice grew quiet.

"My mum and dad," he said, finally capable of accepting their deaths.

It hurt to say it aloud.

"After my mum took me to the Bridge, I lost my balance. I was just trying to hold onto something. Dad was yelling at me to go to the canteen."

Timothy could still hear his father's voice. All hell had broken loose. Consoles overloaded, wires sizzled, the red alert klaxons were blaring.

"I didn't mean to," Timothy went on. "I just slipped. My arm hit the computer panel. And that's when, when-"

He trailed off.

"Timothy, the damage to your ship could not have been caused by anything you touched," Data said.

"But I hit the computer and that's when-" Timothy protested before

"Maybe your arm hit the computer the same time that the ship was destroyed? Completely unrelated. Just a coincidence," Tasha suggested.

"This was not your fault," Data said.

"Yes it was. My, my dad got really upset," Timothy shared.

"Timothy, it is not possible. The onboard control systems for every starship require a user code clearance. You could not have inadvertently done anything to affect the Vico's systems," Data explained. "You could tap dance on top of it and still not cause any damage."

The computer had safety precautions built in place. While the Bridge crew made it look easy – it took a lot more than punching a few buttons to initiate any real commands.

"You're not responsible for what happened to your parents, Timothy," Tasha said.

"But if it wasn't me-"

His thought was cut short as another powerful wavefront hit the ship.

"Timothy, what happened on the Vico?" Data asked.

Timothy blanched.

"I-I-I," he stammered.

Tasha squeezed his hands.

"Close your eyes. What do you remember people saying around you? What can you hear?" Tasha said, guiding his memory with her voice.

Timothy's face scrunched up as he tried to recall those final moments.

"They just keep shouting 'more power to the shields.' But it's getting worse," Timothy said.

More power to the shields.

Data rose and turned for the door.

He'd only gone a few steps when he stopped and turned back around.

"I promise I will come back," Data said.

Timothy whimpered.

"He'll be back. Androids do not lie," Tasha assured him.

---

"Bring us about," Picard ordered.

Lieutenant Hawk attempted to engage the impulse engines – only they failed.

"The gravitational distortion is too high," Hawk said. "Impulse power is disrupted. The helm won't respond."

"Shields to maximum," Picard ordered.

The communications system pinged. It was a message from Engineering.

"Captain, I've transferred power from fusion reactors four through nine into the shield array. That should double our shield strength," Geordi reported.

At Tactical, Worf scowled.

The only sensors that were still functioning properly were the ones reading the incoming surge of gravitational force.

"Wavefront intensity has increased by an order of magnitude. Impact in three, two, one," Worf counted down.

The door to the Captain's Ready Room slid open, and Data emerged. He gripped the doorframe to stay upright as the entire ship lurched.

It was the most powerful wavefront to crash against the Enterprise yet.

"Wavefront intensity is continuing to increase," Worf informed the Bridge. "Structural overpressure now exceeding one hundred eighty percent."

Picard tapped his combadge.

"La Forge?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I don't understand. That should have been enough," Geordi answered honestly. "Captain, I think we need to start evacuating to the designated safety zones. We're going to start losing structural integrity."

There was a slight pause.

"We could run the shield grid directly off the warp drive," Geordi said. "But I don't advise it."

"How long will that take to set up?" Picard asked.

"We can begin initiating the warp-transfer pathways now," Geordi said.

"No," Data said suddenly.

He made a beeline for the Tactical station, fully prepared to override the Captain's order if necessary.

"Wavefront intensity has increased by a factor of ten. Contact in thirty-one seconds. Without additional power to the shields, the outer hull will not hold," Worf said.

"Sir, drop the shields," Data insisted.

He knew it was their only chance.

Riker was aghast.

"That will kill us all, Data," Riker said. "We can't take a chance that-"

"Captain, drop the shields," Data urged.

Data glanced at Worf, wordlessly pleading that he wouldn't have to intervene and fight him for the console.

"Make it so," Picard ordered.

"Aye, sir," Worf replied.

He tapped the console and dropped the shields, praying it would not be his final act. Everyone held their breath.

A gentle ripple flowed through the ship before dissipating.

There was a collective sense of relief on the Bridge when the impending destruction was simply a little shake.

"I show the gravitational fluctuation is beginning to disperse," Worf reported.

"Captain, I advise we remain at all stop for at least an hour," Data recommended. "I believe our own shields caused the increase in the wavefronts, sir. It further compounded the wavefronts that were projected by the fleet of probes."

"A harmonic amplification," Picard realised.

"Then the more energy we dumped into the shield grid, the worse the impact," Riker said.

Data nodded to confirm.

"Precisely. We may never know for certain, but I have calculated with ninety-four point seven perfect accuracy that this phenomenon is also what destroyed the Vico," Data shared. "The correlation between the wavefront amplitude and our shield output is likely what caused the stronger fluctuations on the Calypso during our initial stint into the Black Cluster."

Data theorised the reason the lower intensity wavefronts on the way back were likely due to the Calypso's limited shield capacity during the return trip.

"Then had we transferred all of that warp power into the shields, it would have torn the Enterprise apart," Picard said.

He paused and took a shaky breath, clutching the armrest on the Command Chair as he came to grips with how close they had come to destruction – teetering just on the edge.

"Thank you, Mr Data," Picard said.

"I show navigation is coming back online," Hawk announced.

"Long-ranger sensors appear to be normalising," Worf added.

"I think for the moment, we will stick with Mr Data's recommendation and remain at all stop until the echo has ceased," Picard said.

---

Back in the Captain's Ready Room, Timothy tensed a small ripple rocked the ship.

"Sort of feels like waves on the ocean," Tasha said. "Have you ever been on a boat?"

Timothy nodded.

"Yeah. On Ithica IX. With my mum and dad. We went, we went for a trip with Starfleet Junior Explorers," Timothy explained.

It was a programme for children where they learned all sorts of skills ranging from basic survival and first aid to specific skills including caring for pets, woven art, and dancing.

Suddenly, Timothy dove at Tasha and threw his arms around her.

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome," Tasha replied. "How do you feel?"

Timothy sat back and wiped his face on the back of his sleeve.

"Better," he said.

As if on cue, Data reappeared.

Timothy scrambled out from beneath the desk. He tripped over his own two feet, but Data caught him just inches before he hit the ground.

"You came back," Timothy said.

"Yes," Data replied. "How are you?"

"I'm ok-"

Timothy stopped himself. He straightened up his posture and lifted his chin with a determined attitude.

"I am functioning within normal parameters," Timothy said.

Data cracked a rare smile.

"I am relieved to hear it," Data confessed. "Timothy, the ship requires my attention. I have duties to perform. Do you understand?"

"You mean you have to leave," Timothy said.

"Would it be alright if my friend were to take you back to my quarters for a while?" Data asked, looking over Timothy's shoulder to lock eyes with Tasha.

Timothy turned, following his line of sight.

"Oh! You mean Lieutenant Yar," Timothy released.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yeah. Yeah that would be okay," Timothy said as he reached for Tasha's hand.

Tasha had kept her word and stayed right by his side during the whole incident. In Timothy's eyes, she had earned his trust.

"I will see you later," Data said as Timothy and Tasha stepped onto the lift.

"Thank you," Timothy said.

"You're welcome," Tasha replied. "Thank you. It took an awful lot of courage to share what you did. You save all of us."

Timothy swelled with pride.

---

When they reached Data's quarters, Tasha immediately keyed in instructions on the replicator, producing a tray of snacks.

She knew from experience that snacks always helped.

"So what would you like to do until Data gets back?" Tasha asked.

It was about 04:30 in the morning and Timothy had made clear he wasn't ready to go to sleep. Tasha was utterly knackered, though she understood why it was difficult for Timothy to 'shut down' after such a dramatic night.

He needed time to process.

"I wish Mr Data had games," Timothy said.

Tasha grinned.

"Oh, Data has lots of games," Tasha assured him.

She stepped over to the wall and tapped to open one of the built-in drawers.

"What's your favourite? Fizzbin? Star Coloniser? Dom-jot?" Tasha asked, rattling off all the options Data kept on hand.

Timothy shrugged.

"I dunno," he said.

"Jefferies Tubes and Ladders?" Tasha suggested.

It was a game Data kept on hand for the younger children in his art class. It was a trick to keep the unruly ones who didn't enjoy art occupied.

"Oh that's for babies," Timothy said. "I haven't played that in ages."

"I suppose you're right," Tasha said, feigning agreement.

In truth, she and Data had enjoyed more than a few rounds of their own with the classic game – even if it was intended for children.

Timothy let out a big yawn.

"Could we maybe read a story instead? My eyes are kind of tired and I don't really want to think that much," Timothy said.

"Of course," Tasha said. "Why don't you take the hot chocolate over to the sofa?"

She emerged a moment later from the bedroom with a fuzzy blanket, a book, and a pillow in hand.

Timothy frowned.

"Say, how do you know where all this stuff is?" Timothy asked.

"Well, Data is my friend," Tasha said.

It was partially true.

"Oh. Right. I suppose that's why you came here for a sleepover before," Timothy said.

He paused, debating whether to ask a question or not. But seeing as how Tasha had proven herself in Timothy's eyes, he decided it was worth the risk.

"Um, do you have nightmares too? Is that why you and Mr Data had a sleepover?" Timothy asked.

"Yeah," Tasha replied, nodding quickly.

She was relieved to have found a reasonable excuse.

"You sure must have a lot of sleepovers to know where all his stuff is," Timothy remarked.

Tasha bit back a smirk.

"Mmm hmm," she replied, doing her best to suppress a smile.

Tasha made a makeshift bed for Timothy on the sofa before settling into the chair.

"How am I supposed to see the pictures?" Timothy asked.

"Oh, erm. Well, I suppose I could show them to you as-"

"Can you sit with me? Like my mum does?" Timothy asked. "I mean… like she used to?"

Suddenly, Timothy broke down and started to cry.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed.

"Hey, it's okay to feel sad. You don't have to apologise. You can cry," Tasha assured him.

She leapt out of the chair and settled in on the sofa to comfort him.

"You can cry as long as you want to," Tasha said.

"Th-th-they're really gone aren't they?" Timothy wept.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Timothy," Tasha said softly as she rubbed his back.

"My mum and dad were so mad at me. I didn't listen," Timothy went on.

It made Tasha's heart ache. She knew exactly what that felt like.

"Timothy, your parents weren't angry with you," Tasha said. "They loved you very, very much."

Timothy's shoulders shook as he continued to cry.

"I know it feels like they were angry. But they weren't mad at you. They were probably very scared, and they just wanted to make sure you were safe," Tasha continued. "Do you remember how Data had to leave to keep you safe?"

Timothy nodded.

"That's what your mum and dad had to do too," Tasha explained. "Only the Vico was a lot smaller ship. We were very lucky that Data figured out how to stop it in time."

As Timothy continued to sob on her lap, Tasha kept rubbing soothing circles between his shoulders. It was a trick she had learned long ago on Turkana to help soothe inconsolable children.

"Your parents did everything they could to keep you safe because they loved you so very much," Tasha said.

"How do you know?" Timothy asked.

"Because I won't lie to you," Tasha promised.

---

It was after 06:00 by the time Data returned to his quarters. He found Timothy fast asleep on the sofa, sprawled out and snoring without a care in the world.

Tasha was buried underneath. Her head was resting on the back of the sofa as if she were staring at the ceiling. But Data could tell from her rate of breathing that she was in a deep slumber.

For the last few hours there had been a steady flow of small waves that continued to rock the ship. It truly was like a boat on the water and Data could only imagine how peaceful that feeling must have been as the Enterprise crawled back into bed.

For a brief moment, there was a pang of something that gripped Data.

He was once again struck with awe at how skilled Tasha was with children, how domestic this setting seemed, and how natural it all felt.

Like Data and Tasha, Timothy would have to rebuild his entire world. The trauma of the Vico would not be healed overnight and many questions remained regarding his next steps.

The sight of them together was a reminder of all that Data was hoping to build with Tasha – a home full of love.

I could get used to coming home to this. Data thought.

He briefly allowed his mind to wander to thoughts of mismatched baby socks, first moments, and evenings spent helping with homework.

In the short time he had been responsible for Timothy, Data had already grown accustomed to a routine that revolved around the weird, wonderful world of raising a child.

All too soon Tasha stirred. She cracked one eye and found a familiar shadow staring at her.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Do not get up," Data said.

"Can't feel my backside," Tasha confessed.

She delicately tried to shift without waking Timothy.

"Allow me," Data said.

With Timothy's refusal to sleep, Data was now an expert at getting him into bed after he dozed off somewhere mid-activity.

Data scooped Timothy up and carried him into the bedroom.

Tasha was close behind and ready with the assist. She readied the pillows and pulled back the covers as Data deposited Timothy on the bed.

After slipping off his boots, they tucked him in.

"You have done this before," Tasha teased.

---

When they slipped back out into the main room, Data pulled Tasha into a tight embrace. He felt compelled to be close at that moment.

"Stay," he asked.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Tasha said.

"Stay for breakfast. Please," Data urged.

"Alright, I'll put the kettle on," Tasha said.

She moved toward the replicator. Data snatched her wrist and pulled her back flush against his body. Tasha chuckled.

"Just a moment longer," he said.

Data closed his eyes and buried his face into her hair.

"I have missed you so," Data said.

There were small things that Data had missed over the last two weeks – the soft scent of lavender in his bed, the small glances they shared across a room, even her very presence while working on different projects.

It was all part of the relationship they had built together.

Tasha squeezed his hands and then backed toward the replicator to get a pot of hot water. Data and Tasha worked in comfortable silence as they produced breakfast for two.

When they sat down, it felt right to be back across the table from one another.

"Tasha? May I ask – what did you say to Timothy that convinced him to open up?" Data inquired.

"Oh. That," Tasha said.

She set her fork down and sat back in her chair.

"I told him that it's hard to be brave but that he had the chance to be a hero like you," Tasha said. "I told him androids are heroes."

Data was stunned.

"Of course. Playing into a child's desire to live up to qualities they admire," Data pondered aloud. "Why did I not think of this?"

Tasha shrugged.

"Because you're too modest for that," Tasha said, grinning above the rim of her teacup.

A shy smile crept onto Data's face and he instinctively averted his gaze. Data's eyes fell on the door to his bedroom.

"What do you think will happen to Timothy now?" Data asked.

"I don't know," Tasha replied honestly, following his line of sight.

Every year there were roughly ten thousand children orphaned who had parents in Starfleet. Between disappearances, accidents, illnesses, and attacks it was a serious concern for any parent serving in Starfleet.

"Last we were able to make contact with Starbase 514 they advised Starfleet is still trying to contact his next of kin. Some cousin of the father's," Tasha explained. "There was a neighbour on Starbase 514 that expressed interest. They have a son about Timothy's age."

Tasha's brow furrowed.

"I suppose it will all end up being adjudicated by personnel and the JAG office. I just hope somebody asks that boy what he wants – and takes it into consideration," Tasha remarked with a heavy sigh.

Data studied her posture carefully.

"You do not have faith in Starfleet to adequately care for his welfare," Data observed.

It wasn't a question.

"No, I don't," Tasha confessed.

She had first-hand experience with Starfleet's child welfare programme. For an organisation that prided itself on such highly advanced ways, Tasha considered Starfleet's child protective services to be lacking.

Rescued at the tender age of fifteen, Starfleet had arranged for Tasha to be housed in a group institution that was home to more than a thousand children.

In order to accommodate so many kids, the place operated on a rigid schedule including mandated group counselling sessions. Participation in activities was strictly controlled and only permitted if children met certain behavioural requirements – a tall order in a place with little support.

For Tasha, it felt as if she had left one form of imprisonment for another.

Tasha was considered one of the 'lucky' ones – if lucky meant being chosen by an incredibly strict, already over-crowded family of religious zealots that were trying to make it on the Nantes Prime colony.

They had chosen Tasha not because they wanted to care for another child but rather because they believed her practical experience on Turkana would prove valuable. She was just another workhorse to add to their ever-growing army of orphans.

Her guardians had never even batted an eye when Tasha ran away to San Francisco.

At the time, Tasha had hopes of joining Starfleet in part to give back for her own good fortune and because of the freedom life as a cadet would afford her. She'd figured if it didn't work out, anything had to be better than life on Nantes Prime.

"Tasha?" Data prompted, pulling her back to reality.

She had been completely lost in her own thoughts.

Tasha turned back to Data.

"Data, we have to do everything we can to make sure he finds a home where he's happy," Tasha declared.

Data reached across the table and gripped her hand.

"We will," he promised.

He could sense she was leery.

"Tasha, androids do not lie," Data teased.