Chapter Three
Counselor Deanna Troi strode into Kurak's lab, only to pause by the door, her eyes widening as she stared around at the busy wall panels and blinking consoles.
She'd seen the dome after the raiders' attack on the compound – a scorched out husk of sparks, fallen debris and charred metal, the walls scarred by phaser burns…
And, while a faint stench of stale smoke and melted plastic still lingered in the air, Troi found herself amazed at the extent of the repairs Data and Kurak had managed to accomplish together in so short a time.
The Klingon scientist raised her head, her dark eyes like volcanic glass beneath the shadow of her long, wavy hair. She'd been hard at work, leaning over the central console, her hands flying over the keypad, but she straightened when she saw Troi.
"You've come for Ishta."
It wasn't a question, but Troi nodded.
"I'm afraid so. We just got word that the social worker's shuttle has received permission to enter orbit. They'll be here soon."
Kurak clutched her elbow and turned her head, working her jaw as her gaze hardened.
"The girls have been studying. In my office," she said.
Troi nodded again, but instead of heading for the small corridor, she approached the console, casting her eyes over multiple screens displaying animated maps, scrolling data, and detailed representations of energy fields and wave formations the counselor couldn't begin to translate into useful sense.
"Any progress?" she asked.
Kurak bared her teeth.
"Not enough," she growled. "Not nearly enough! And time is running short."
She turned to look Troi in the eye.
"Do you, Riker and your captain truly intend to leave this place at the end of the week? To return to your ship without your second officer?"
"It's not like that," Troi said defensively. "The captain is concerned it might draw too much attention if we were to remain here with the Enterprise. But, that doesn't mean we won't be monitoring. This will remain a very active investigation. In fact, we'll be sending some of our top engineers and security personnel to—"
Kurak snarled and turned away.
Troi closed her eyes, taking a moment to let the Klingon's powerful emotions slap against her, then wash through.
"Kurak, we're doing the best we can," the Betazoid said. "All of us. But you must understand—"
"I understand," Kurak grunted. "Every Klingon understands himself to be expendable, and easily replaced. I just did not realize the Federation's Starfleet harbored a similar attitude toward its officers."
Troi pursed her lips together, refusing to let the Klingon woman's bitter hurt seep into her own mind.
"I can't promise you we'll find him, Kurak," Troi said. "But, if Data is out there, and he's still functional, there's a very good chance he'll find us."
"Then, again, you leave it to the android to save himself. As you did following his kidnapping by the honorless raiders who attacked our compound!" Kurak snorted. "I may have been left unconscious by the attack, but Tu'Pari, Nat and Freja told me of the incident. And, I don't recall hearing of his Starfleet colleagues conducting any particularly concerted search efforts on his, or my child's, behalf."
"Sounds to me like you have it backwards," Troi said, standing up to the Klingon's cold glare. "At the time, we had no way of knowing if Data and Kay were still on the planet, or if they'd been transported off world. We trusted Data to follow procedure; to learn the strengths, weaknesses, and motivations of his captors; and do all he could to return to us. Just as we trust him now. As for believing him expendable…!" Troi shook her head. "Absolutely not."
Kurak crossed her arms and lowered her ridged brow, her glare unwavering. Troi set her jaw and cast her a glare of her own.
"We all know Starfleet service involves risk," she said, her voice sharpening as she reflected some of the Klingon woman's hostility back at her. "As an officer, Data has always accepted that risk, just like the rest of us. That does not mean we consider him dispensable or expendable in any way. And, while others may have the training to carry out his duties aboard ship, we all believe Data, himself, to be irreplaceable. Not because he's an android. Data is a unique personality, same as any one of us, and we value that. He's our friend. Our family. We won't be giving up on him, and we won't stop looking for answers. No matter how long it takes."
Kurak stared for a moment longer, then lowered her gaze and drew in a slow, sharp breath.
"How is it, Counselor…" she said with some difficulty. "How is it that one soul can come to mean so much to so many…in so short a time…"
Troi moved closer, close enough to rest her hand on the Klingon's arm. Kurak glared at it until she pulled away, but she sensed the scientist's defenses were softening. That she was letting Troi's words get through.
"You mean as much to him," Troi told her. "You and Kay…and Ishta too."
Kurak swallowed and shook her head.
"I should know better by now than to hold out hope," she growled angrily. "The hope that we will find him...that anything will change... And yet…"
"If Data was drawn into the Preservers' stairway tunnel, or whatever it is," Troi said, "you can believe he will find a way to return. He's come back to us before, when we all thought he'd been lost. And now, he has more reason than ever to make his way home."
Kurak blinked a few times and sucked in her cheek. Troi smiled kindly and moved back, allowing her more space.
"Good luck with your analysis," she said.
Kurak grunted, returning her attention to her work. Troi watched her for a moment longer, her own heart caught in a troubling tangle of doubts and fears. Then, she turned and headed down the corridor, working to brace herself for her confrontation with Ishta.
But, when she got to the office, Ishta wasn't there. And, neither was Kahlestra.
To Be Continued...
References include - TNG: Time's Arrow I/II; Contagion; The Most Toys; Tin Man; We'll Always Have Paris; Suspicions; Star Trek: First Contact.
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