Author's Note: Thank you for your continued support with this series. All of your reviews, likes, kudos, and messages are wonderful!
I'm sorry. I lied. The Traveller arc was supposed to be a two-part storyline.
It's three...
After hitting nearly 20k words, I decided it was necessary to split the conclusion into two chapters.
This chapter and the next are the conclusion of the Traveller storyline and we're exploring Data & Tasha's relationship in a new way. Playing a wee bit fast and loose again with canon. You may notice some subtle differences in the sequence of events and dialog in comparison to the actual episode.
It's a long, heavy chapter – but there is fun and fluff on the horizon.
Trigger warning: Strong language & mentions/flashbacks of sexual assault.
Walsh is a bad guy. I wanted to introduce a mix of both the "episodic" feel of the show with a handful of overarching story arcs – Bruce Maddox/Data's trauma, the idea of "family" and what that means for DaTasha, the found family vibe of the entire crew, and Walsh as a big baddie.
This chapter and the last focus on The Traveller, please note there are mentions/flashbacks of sexual assault. In this chapter, we're working in the context of Walsh is now in the brig. Both Data and Tasha will be working through both the personal and professional consequences of it. Please be advised if this triggers you, you may want to skip over those scenes.
So, what's next? We still have a long way to go with "The Complication." The next few chapters will see the appearance of Q, Angel One, and an original adventure involving a black hole that introduces the start of a romance for Geordi.
As always, if you like my works or want to stay up to date with art, comics, or just like chatting about the fandom you can like/follow at charliefenwick.com or @TheTartanTart on Twitter.
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The minute Tasha stepped into her quarters she set a level one security lock on her door and started crying.
She was so angry with the entire situation.
More than that, she was embarrassed she had acted that way in front of the Captain.
But it wasn't fair.
She could do her job.
And she could do it well.
The Enterprise was in a crisis, and she felt like she had been taken off duty because of her own inability to control her emotions.
Tasha paced back and forth furiously as she ran her hands through her hair.
They were just memories.
When did this become about Turkana? A little voice in her head said.
Tasha stopped pacing and took a deep breath.
This wasn't about her past - this was about Walsh.
She had to keep her mind focused and find a solution. It was vital that she figure out how to deal with the Walsh problem without losing any more face with her security team.
Whatever her course of action, Tasha felt it had to be discreet. She wasn't sure she could live with any more of the officers or her team finding out what had happened.
It was necessary for a security chief to project strength and fortitude.
She couldn't be a victim. It would destroy the confidence her staff had in her.
Tasha thought back to the comments that had been made about Harris's PTSD at the briefing.
Suddenly, her chest felt tight. She felt like such a hypocrite for telling off the other staff members for mocking Harris's trauma. She had told them there was nothing to be ashamed of.
Yet here she was attempting to figure out a way to sweep the situation with Walsh under the rug because she was afraid she would feel ashamed if anyone found out.
Tasha clenched and unclenched her fists.
She groaned aloud. She had to get control of her thoughts, or she'd spiral right back to the floor of that cave.
The cave.
The smell of motor oil.
Tasha squatted down and squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to push the thought of that day from her mind.
"Over here!" one of the bandits called out.
She shook her head.
"This isn't real," she said aloud.
She heard her cat Speckle meow and brush up against her leg.
"What do we have here?" one of the men said slowly as he pushed against her shoulder.
She could hear them circling her.
"Looks like a drowned rat," another one said as he kicked her.
"Pretty cute for a drowned rat," the first one stated.
"You know it's dangerous to travel alone," the second one said in a low voice.
She could feel his breath against her ear.
"Maybe that's what she's looking for?" the third man laughed, inches from her face.
Tasha hissed as one of them grabbed the back of her neck.
What can I feel? Tasha asked as she attempted to calm herself down.
She stretched out her hand and felt the cold floor of the cave.
I know that's wrong. I know I'm in my quarters. She reminded herself.
She counted to four, inhaling and exhaling deeply as she felt the hand on her neck forcing her head to the floor.
These are your quarters. The same quarters you've had for two years. You're safe. You woke up here with Data this morning. Tasha tried to keep her thoughts laser focused. Just think about Data.
Without warning, the hand on her neck disappeared.
Tasha released the breath she'd been holding and opened her eyes.
She was lying facedown on the carpet in the main room of her quarters. From this angle she could see her door and the base of the replicator.
She was covered in a cold sweat. Tasha wiped her face with her sleeve and crawled up to her feet.
She needed a shower.
Yeah. That's perfect. She said to soothe herself – wash away the sweat and grime and memories.
A moment later, she stepped into her shower and felt a wave of relief as the water hit her skin.
Tasha let her back hit the cool tile of the wall and closed her eyes.
She slid down along the wall until she hit the floor.
Tasha pulled her knees up to her chest, rested her chin on them, and let herself dissociate from the universe.
-----------
"He's fatigued," Doctor Crusher informed the Captain.
They were standing in her office observing The Traveller and Wesley.
"He seems to have developed some sort of special attachment to you Mr Crusher," Riker stated.
"Will he live?" Picard asked.
"I'm not sure," Doctor Crusher confessed. "My equipment isn't capable of reading much of his life signs. His anatomy is so unusual. I've never seen anything like it."
"Let's get him to Engineering straightaway," Picard ordered.
"Captain!" Beverly protested. "He's too weak to be moved. You could kill him!"
"If we stay here much longer, we may lose the ability to distinguish between thought and reality," Picard warned. "We need to know what's happened and how we can get out of here."
The three of them stepped out of her office and into the main part of Sickbay.
"Do you recognise me?" Picard asked. "I am the Captain and I need answers."
"I'll do my best to provide. I am a Traveller. I have certain abilities, which I take it you have gathered," the strange being said.
"What is the purpose of your journey? Where are you headed?" Picard queried.
"I only seek to experience your reality. I am no threat to your or your ship," the Traveller said sincerely.
"He isn't, Captain! I know he isn't," Wesley added.
There was something about the Traveller that made the Captain feel he could trust him. Jean-Luc didn't believe this mysterious man was trying to harm them.
"I've been trading my abilities and knowledge of propulsion for passage on starships," the Traveller confessed. "I have made some mistakes."
"Like bringing us here. Are we really millions of light years away from home?" Picard asked. "What brought us here?"
"Thought," the Traveller responded simply.
Picard looked at the man in disbelief.
"You do understand, don't you? Though is the basis of all reality. The energy of thought, to put it in your terms, is very powerful," the Traveller clarified.
"So, you're asking us to believe in magic?" Riker questioned.
The Traveller looked as if he were deep in thought as he struggled to put his answers in terms they would be capable of comprehending.
"I suppose this could seem like magic or fantasy to you," the Traveller concurred.
Picard was struggling to wrap his head around the concept. But as a learned man, he understood there were a great many things that were beyond their comprehension.
In the vast expanse of the universe, mankind was still in its infancy.
"No, no. This actually makes sense to me," Picard said.
"And you understand the danger," the traveller finished for him.
They had already experienced numerous instances that made clear just how dangerous their thoughts could be.
The Traveller explained to the group that he was not from another time nor another reality. He simply existed as a being of energy that was capable of traversing the universe in a way that was unknown to most humanoid species.
There were others of his kind that shared his abilities.
In fact, they were so rare and secretive that humankind was entirely unaware of their existence before now.
"Can you bring us back?" Picard questioned.
It was the thought they all shared.
"He's too weak, sir!" Wesley insisted.
He couldn't explain it, but he felt he could understand the Traveller.
"I will try," the Traveller promised meekly.
The Captain ordered them to get to Main Engineering quickly.
To everyone's surprise, the Traveller requested a moment alone with the Captain before making another attempt.
"Strange how he seems to care for you," Picard commented as he watched Wesley grow.
The Traveller swung his legs off the exam table.
"He will forget me in time which is as it should be," the Traveller said. "It is Wesley that I wish to speak with you about."
Picard looked at him curiously.
"The Crusher boy?" Picard asked.
"You must not repeat this to others, especially the mother," the Traveller ordered. "I can sense that you are close."
Picard was taken aback.
If ever there was a sign from the universe it was time to confront his feelings, this certainly felt like it was it.
"Whatever may happen it is imperative that it proceed naturally. There are few like him," the Traveller explained. "You have it in your power to encourage him without interfering. He sees you as your kind would call a 'father.' He seeks your approval."
Picard sighed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.
"Encourage him in what?" Picard questioned.
"How shall I explain," the Traveller sighed.
It was such a complex matter, and they were so short on time.
The Traveller could already feel he was losing the ability to remain in this space.
"There is one in your history called Mozart, who as a small child wrote astonishing symphonies. A genius who made music not only to be heard, but seen, and felt beyond the understanding. Wesley is such a person," the Traveller informed the captain.
He could see Jean-Luc was struggling with this information.
"Not with music," he clarified. "But with the equally lovely intricacies of time, energy, and propulsion. And beyond that he has a pure heart. He is open to new ideas and a scholar's scholar."
Picard blinked as he processed this.
He knew the boy was brilliant, but this was such a large revelation it was hard to grasp.
"He is just a boy for now. He should be encouraged," the Traveller instructed. "But told none of this. When the time is right, he will have to choose his own destiny."
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Captain Picard left Sickbay in disbelief.
Fatherhood had always been such a foreign idea to him. His own experience with family had left a mixed taste in his mouth.
He thought of his crew as his family.
Some more than others.
Whether it be guiding Data through the intricacies of the human equation, sharing a heart-to-heart with Will Riker about the ensigns of command, offering guidance to Lieutenant La Forge as he struggled to find a work/life balance, or sharing a laugh with Counsellor Troi.
And then there was Tasha.
It scared him sometimes how much that woman was so like a young Jean-Luc.
He'd pulled heavy strings to get her on his crew.
In time, she'd proven that his instincts were correct.
She wasn't just a protégé, she was probably the closest thing he would ever have to a daughter.
But Wesley?
An unsettling feeling took root in the pit of his stomach.
Wesley was Jack's boy.
Captain Picard had tried so hard to walk the fine line between keeping an appropriate distance and fulfilling the role of father figure that he felt obligated to in light of the circumstances of Jack's death.
He'd observed the Crusher boy from afar – making frequent inquiries into his academic performance and personal pursuits.
But it had always been from a comfortable distance.
The idea of getting close to Wesley to encourage his performance felt wrong somehow.
He didn't want to replace Jack.
He could never replace Jack – not for Wesley nor for his mother.
Following the sage advice of his protégé, Jean-Luc decided to focus on one crisis at a time.
Jean-Luc tapped his combadge.
"Lieutenant Yar, please report to the Bridge," he ordered. "We're going home."
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Twenty minutes later, everything was in place.
The Traveller and young Mr Crusher were down in Main Engineering and preparing to make the jump to warp that would take them back home.
Commander Riker would stay in Main Engineering to oversee the progress.
Up on the Bridge, Data and Geordi were seated at their normal positions of Operations and the helm, respectively.
The turbolift doors opened and Data caught sight of Tasha as she stepped onto the Bridge.
He noted that her face and hands appeared unusually red and puffy.
Data cocked his head to the side as he looked at her.
Tasha caught his eyes briefly and gave him a short nod.
"All decks, battle stations," Picard ordered. "I must have your full attention. In a few moments we will attempt to warp back home. It is vital, absolutely vital, that you concentrate all your thoughts on your duty and on returning home."
Captain Picard ordered Geordi to set a in course at warp one point five.
"Warp one point five, retroactive to six one mark three one, sir," Geordi replied as he punched in the appropriate heading and speed.
"Engage," Picard ordered as he pointed to the viewscreen.
They all held their breath as the Enterprise lurched forward and they began to move.
Captain Picard swallowed hard, concerned that nothing was happening.
A few seconds later, the images on the viewscreen began to move faster and faster. The colours and objects blurred as they reached the extreme speed that had brought them to the mysterious edge of the universe.
And then it stopped.
"Warp one point five, sir. Which is what my instruments have read all along," Data advised.
"And our position reads exactly what it was before this sleigh ride began!" Geordi said brightly.
Captain Picard breathed a sigh of relief.
"Lieutenant Yar, cease Red Alert," he ordered.
With great relief, Tasha deactivated the Red Alert.
To everyone's amusement, the use of Geordi's colloquialism had been lost on Data.
"Sleigh ride?" he asked as he attempted to understand the reference.
Tasha bit her lip to stop from grinning.
Geordi shrugged.
"I don't have a name for it," he said nonchalantly.
The lift opened and Commander Riker and Wesley Crusher stepped onto the Bridge.
Sadly, the Traveller had disappeared during the experience, phasing back to whatever time and place he was on to next.
"Wesley Crusher!" Captain Picard said.
Wesley jumped at the sound of his name.
"I'm sorry, sir," Wesley said.
He chastised himself for following Riker to the Bridge. He knew he wasn't allowed. He had just been so caught up in the moment, he'd lost himself.
"Commander Riker has informed me of how great a help you were during this crisis. Well done," Picard said.
Wesley beamed.
"I'd like you sit here in Command," Picard ordered as he pointed to the empty seat to his left.
Wesley was shocked. Captain Picard had made abundantly clear he was not permitted on the Bridge.
Captain Picard picked up on this trepidation.
"I suppose I did make it a rule that only officers were permitted on the Bridge," Picard acknowledged. "In that case, for outstanding performance in the best of Starfleet tradition, Wesley Crusher is henceforth named an Acting Ensign with the duties and privileges of that rank. At the earliest opportunity, your entrance application for Starfleet Academy will be tendered."
Wesley's mouth fell open.
"Until then, you will learn this ship. Every operation, every function. Commander Riker, I want a duty schedule for Mister Crusher that is heavy on study," Picard commanded.
"Aye, sir," Riker replied, barely able to contain his excitement. "Shall I page Doctor Crusher?"
"If you don't mind," Wesley asked. "I think I'd like to tell her."
Captain Picard nodded.
"Congratulations Wesley," Data said as he turned in his chair and nodded to the boy.
"Yeah!" Geordi cheered. "Way to go Wes!"
Wesley felt elated.
Worf flashed him a rare Klingon smile.
"We'll start your certification next week," Tasha said with a grin. "And well done."
She winked at Wes.
"Thanks," Wes responded.
As he watched the crew congratulate the newest acting ensign, Captain Picard felt uneasy.
He knew a part of Beverly would be thrilled at the idea.
At the same time, he suspected Beverly would be more than a little miffed that he hadn't consulted her in advance.
To add insult to injury, hearing it from Wes first would offer him no wiggle room to soften the blow.
His mind drifted back to his conversation with his mother.
What could he possibly say?
Hello, Beverly. I've loved you nearly two decades and by the way I gave your son a field commission without even considering your thoughts on the matter.
Jean-Luc rubbed his temple.
"Captain?" Riker asked as he watched him. "I believe we can handle this if you'd like to take a break."
"I'm fine, Number One," Picard replied. "But thank you."
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At 15:00, the alpha shift was relieved by the next incoming shift.
Data and Tasha caught a turbolift together off the Bridge.
Data headed off to Main Engineering to study all the available information they had on the situation with the Traveller.
Tasha grudgingly made her way to deck nine where she would be assisting Deanna with counselling sessions. She had been dreading it all day.
Although they had managed to return home, counselling sessions remained in high demand. The entire experience had left many of the crew in need of speaking with a trained professional.
"You showered again," Data commented as he looked at her skin.
"And?" she asked.
"Is that not unusual?" he responded as he attempted to understand.
"Just been running around a lot today," she said. "Was feeling grimy."
It was partially the truth.
Data took hold of her hand and examined it.
"Your skin is irritated," he observed.
Without warning, he pushed her sleeve up her forearm. He frowned as he saw how red her skin was.
Tasha pulled her arm back sharply and quickly replaced her sleeve, cursing her pale skin.
"Computer halt," Data ordered.
"Data," she sighed, frustrated.
"I am concerned for your wellbeing," he explained.
"I snapped at Captain Picard, and I am so embarrassed with myself," she admitted. "I had another flashback. I just needed to do this, Data. I'm sorry you can't understand."
He could see she was deeply bothered.
"I'm so ashamed of myself," she described. "I never should let him get the upper hand. And now everyone thinks I'm inept. I've lost the confidence of my team. A third of my security staff thinks I'm a joke."
She pinched the Bridge of her nose in annoyance.
"Tasha?" Data asked softly. "May I hug you?"
She nodded slowly and stepped into the embrace.
"You wouldn't have let this happen. Commander Riker never would have found himself in that position," she scoffed. "And Worf sure as hell wouldn't have walked into that. Gods Captain Picard must be so disappointed in me."
"The captain has often expressed his confidence in your job performance," Data said in an attempt to reassure her. "Were you not the one he requested specifically for this assignment?"
Tasha took a deep breath. She knew Data was right.
"I just thought I left all that behind, you know?" she asked rhetorically. "Sometimes I wish I could be as strong as you are."
"You are," he said simply.
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Meanwhile, Jean-Luc retired to his ready room.
After pouring a cuppa Earl Grey, he sat down at his desk.
He knew he was due for a conversation with Beverly, but he wanted to put it off.
His eyes fell on the PADD he had taken from Lieutenant Yar earlier.
That will work. He thought as he was pleased to find an excuse to delay his conversation with the Doctor.
Captain Picard activated the device.
He leaned forward in his chair, suddenly very alert as he processed what was on the screen.
Jean-Luc now understood completely why she had been unenthusiastic to share it with him.
It was a betting pool – an obscene betting pool involving Lieutenant Yar and Lieutenant Commander Data.
Worse than that, it was evident that an alarming number of her security staff were involved.
Jean-Luc felt himself growing flustered as he considered that so many of the members of his crew would readily engage in such indecent behaviour.
It was unbecoming of an officer.
He swiped to the next page to see if there was more information.
"Well, well. What do we have here?" he said aloud.
It was a video personal log file.
Curious, Jean-Luc pressed play.
"Tell Tristan what happened!" a voice said that Captain Picard recognised as Ensign Armando Gomez.
"Alright, alright," Ensign Walsh said. "So, we're at this Edo lodge before everything went to hell. And there was that big storm. About three hours after it starts, they show up. Just the two of them. Alone."
There was a low whistle in the background.
"About twenty minutes later, I decide I'm going to take advantage of these fantastic steam baths they've got. I walk in and can't believe my eyes. She's there," Walsh explains.
"Shut up!" Ensign Tristan Lewis said. "No way."
"True story," Walsh insists. "Not only is she there. She isn't alone."
"So, you walk in on them? Big deal," Lewis shrugged. "Is the phrase 'smooth as an android's bottom' really accurate?"
Jean-Luc didn't like where this conversation was heading.
He could see in the video file the young Ensigns were drinking. He watched as they passed around a bottle of what appeared to be contraband Romulan ale.
Add that to the list of charges. He thought as he made a mental note of it.
It was evident from the context they were talking about the Enterprise's trip to the Edo planet. Even though Jean-Luc was aware of a number of instances with Ensign Walsh and Lieutenant Yar, he was not aware that anything had taken place during their shore leave.
This was new information.
Reluctantly, he kept watching.
"It wasn't him," Walsh said scandalously. "It was one of those Edo chicks. Lip-locked. Naked as the day she was born. Tried to cover herself up but God she's stacked."
"Speaking of which, you still owe me," Harris said as he nudged Gomez. "Told you she had a sapphic side."
"No, you didn't," Gomez said, not comprehending. "You said she was into chicks."
"Sometimes I wonder how the hell you passed the academy," Harris replied.
Jean-Luc's mouth grew thin. He wondered how any of them had managed to pass the academy when it was obvious they were ill-suited to serve.
"I could have had a nice show if the android hadn't shown up," Walsh went on. "He rolled in all hot and heavy. Threw me into a wall."
"We ran into him the next morning and he was pretty irked when we mentioned it," Gomez added. "Told him he was a machine with the ladies, and he got real funny about it."
"Machine is right. Was there three days. Never saw her once," Harris said. "As angry as he was with us, bet he fucked her so hard she couldn't walk."
"I'm telling you, more than once she's come into the security office after spending the night in his quarters and her steps are tender if you know what I mean," Walsh sniggered.
Captain Picard was disgusted. He knew that young Ensigns were prone to inappropriate pranks and occasional unprofessional behaviour.
But this wasn't a joke.
It was harassment.
"I'm not surprised," Lewis commented. "Served with her six months on the Crazy Horse. You wouldn't believe the stories I heard. My buddy Paxton hooked up with her. Said she liked it rough. Real transactional. No cuddling. Just down and dirty and then get out."
"Makes sense," Gomez said as he took a swig of the blue liquid. "She's about as soft as a duranium hull."
"That's probably why she likes him," Lewis commented. "Her own sentient sex toy. No emotions. No feelings. He's the perfect companion."
"Can you imagine it? It's probably like when the blades of the gravity generator fall out of alignment," Harris laughed. "Ka-chunk. Ka-chunk. Ka-chunk."
He proceeded to make the rude noise accompanied by an obscene gesture.
"Alright, alright. So, you kind of saw her once," Lewis scoffed. "That's hardly the same as getting up close and personal."
Walsh grinned mischievously.
"Oh c'mon! Now you're just making things up!" Lewis sneered.
"It's the truth!" Gomez said vouching for Walsh. "She fought back. Got him good, too."
"It was worth it," Walsh said as he wiggled his eyebrows.
Jean-Luc pursed his lips. If this were true, it was also news to him.
Tasha had kept him in the loop regarding Walsh's numerous infractions against various other crew members – and what he thought was nothing more than occasional insubordinate behaviour.
She had never mentioned the details of this physical harassment.
"We were having a drink at Ten Forward," Harris explained. "And she comes in alone."
"Wearing this tight little jumpsuit," Gomez went on. "Sits at the bar by herself all night."
"So, I caught her in the lift on her way out," Walsh said. "Pretended I was a little too tipsy to stand up. Drop my combadge and when she bent over to get it – BAM!"
Walsh slapped his hands together.
"Got her up against the wall of the lift. Told her we both knew why she was really there. Why she wore that little number. Only one thing she was after and I was happy to help her with it," Walsh said in a predatory voice. "She was dazed. Took her a minute to realise what was happening. And you can bet I used that full minute to my advantage."
"No way that happened," Lewis said in disbelief.
"True story!" Harris claimed. "She threw him in the brig for public drunkenness."
"Check the brig records. And I've never seen her out of uniform since," Gomez finished for him.
Appalled, Jean-Luc stopped the video log replay.
He'd seen more than enough.
Jean-Luc recalled Worf's comment regarding a sealed report filed the day before.
Security logs could be sealed from public consumption, but the Captain always retained access.
"Computer, please access the sealed security report for Walsh, Ensign Drew," Picard asked aloud.
"Please specify which sealed security report for Walsh, Ensign Drew J. by stardate," the computer responded.
There's more than one. Picard's eyes grew wide as he sat back in his chair.
He needed to speak with Lieutenant Yar.
But first, he had something he needed to attend to.
"Computer," Picard commanded. "I would like you to begin audio recording all audio within cell 1A of the brig where Ensign Walsh is being held."
It was obvious Walsh had been behind the incident in the security briefing. Clearly, he was also in league with at least one other co-conspirator in order to orchestrate his latest act. Furthermore, it was evident that they weren't terribly bright, or they wouldn't have left evidence of themselves on the PADD.
Now, he just needed to wait for them to expose themselves.
Hopefully, it would be the last nail in the coffin of the career of Ensign Drew Walsh.
The sharp alert that there was someone at the door drew him out of his thoughts.
He called for whoever it was to enter and tensed when none other than Beverly Crusher stepped into the room.
"Doctor!" he said as he jumped to his feet.
Captain Picard quickly stepped out from behind his desk and over to his replicator.
"Please take a seat and I'll fix you a cuppa," he offered hastily, hoping it would be sufficient in appeasing her.
His brain stopped functioning as Beverly gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you, Jean-Luc," she said with a smile.
He blinked twice as he attempted to compose himself.
"You've spoken to your son?" he asked nervously, attempting to suss out if she was aware or if her gratitude was simply for getting them home.
"He's absolutely thrilled," she assured him. "As am I."
Jean-Luc turned around, unable to believe his luck that she wasn't at least slightly upset with him.
"Well, isn't that grand?" he smiled awkwardly.
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Down in the brig, Ensigns Jeffords and Gomez were standing outside of Ensign Walsh's cell.
Walsh had requested Gomez bring Jeffords down to see him.
"How'd she like it?" Walsh grinned as he approached the forefield.
"You shouldn't have done that," Jeffords said angrily.
He turned to Gomez.
"She saved your life," he said to Gomez, attempting to drive home his point.
Walsh rolled his eyes.
"It's a joke, Jeffords," Walsh hissed. "Relax."
"I don't think it's funny," Jeffords snapped. "And I don't think I want to be a part of this anymore."
Jeffords turned to leave but Gomez's outstretched arm stopped him.
"She's going to try and break up the team," Gomez said. "Get all of us transferred off the Enterprise."
Jeffords stilled.
He turned back to his friends.
"What do you mean?" Jeffords asked.
"She's been trying for months," Walsh said. "She wants to split us up. She doesn't like us."
"For good reason," Jeffords countered.
Walsh's face soured.
"She's always had it out for us," Walsh went on as he tried to manipulate Jeffords. "She's going to get that android to reassign us. You're probably going to wind up on some research station on an ice planet. Do you want that?"
"You can't know that," Jeffords said. "Besides, frankly you lot have been pretty awful toward her. I don't blame her for stunning you. Probably deserved it."
"She came on to me," Walsh insisted. "I'm the victim here. She's got it bad for me. And when I refused, she abused her authority."
Jeffords took a step back.
This had gone too far and he was suddenly very uncomfortable.
"I don't want any part of this anymore," he said as he shook his hands.
"My grandfather can get you any assignment you want," Walsh warned. "And if you cross me. I can make sure your service in Starfleet is a living hell."
Jeffords shook his head.
"I'm sorry I ever thought you guys were my friends," he said sadly.
"Don't walk out that door!" Walsh shouted as Jeffords exited the brig.
Gomez and Walsh exchanged a glance.
Walsh nodded.
Gomez tapped his combadge.
"Harris, looks like we'll be one short at poker," Gomez said.
It was a coded signal they had worked out in anticipation of Jeffords's refusal to join their plan.
Walsh knew he was the weak link in the group, and he was ready to teach him a lesson.
-----------
Fifteen minutes later, Ensign Tobey Jeffords reached his quarters.
He felt terrible.
It had hurt to turn his back on the guys that had readily welcomed him when he had first joined the ship.
But there had been too many instances in which he felt uneasy with the things they did – especially when it came to their treatment of other crew members.
It wasn't just Lieutenant Yar and Commander Data. Walsh and his gang had been awful to many of the crew. They harassed women, mocked Lieutenant Worf, had pulled a series of cruel pranks on a fellow Bolian security officer, relentlessly bullied a Bajoran engineer, and physically assaulted an Andorian waiter during their shore leave to Risa.
When the doors slid open to his quarters, Jeffords stopped in his tracks.
He gasped as he looked around.
Every inch of the space had been ruined.
The glass table was smashed in.
His mattress was slashed.
The drawers were tossed.
Like most Starfleet officers, he had few personal belongings.
But the ones he did have were quite valuable to him.
Jeffords bent down to the floor as he picked up the smashed remains of the sculpture he had recently finished.
It had taken him nearly four months to work up to the skill level necessary to create the sculpture – and weeks to complete the project.
His jacket – a gift from his favourite aunt upon completion of Starfleet academy – had been ripped.
Photos of his family were scattered across the carpet, shredded and ruined.
Jeffords sat down on the floor.
He'd gotten their message.
He'd heard it loud and clear.
-----------
At 19:00, Deanna concluded her last session for the day. She got up and knocked softly at the adjacent office.
"Come in," Tasha called out.
"How did it go?" Deanna asked as she took a seat across from Tasha.
"Fine," Tasha nodded. "Same time tomorrow?"
She had conducted twelve counselling sessions. They were making a dent in the backlog, but she knew they had a long way to go.
"Yes," Deanna smiled.
A part of her wanted to tell Tasha that she only wanted her back if she felt up to it. But Deanna could sense Tasha was desperate to pour herself into work. Tasha needed it.
"That would be most appreciated," Deanna added. "And then we can walk over to poker together?"
Despite the exhaustion of the last few days, all of the senior officers had been relieved when Commander Riker announced their usual weekly poker night would still go on as planned.
It was a chance to relax away from rank and responsibility.
"Yeah, that'd be fine," Tasha replied absentmindedly as she closed out of the temporary handheld counselling computer Deanna had assigned her. "Here are the notes from today for your records."
Tasha handed the device back to Deanna.
"Is there something you want to talk about?" Deanna asked.
Tasha sat back against the chair as she considered Deanna's offer.
She did want to talk about it.
Tasha understood how important therapy was.
But she also knew just how overwhelmed Deanna was – it wasn't just the hours, it was the entire emotional toll of her empath abilities surrounded by so much fear and anxiety.
Tasha took Deanna's hand.
"At some point we will," Tasha assured her. "But not right now."
The door chimed as it indicated someone was waiting outside.
Tasha and Deanna looked at one another.
"Come in," Deanna called out.
Ensign Tobey Jeffords stepped in shyly, stopping just inside the door.
"Ensign Jeffords," Tasha said.
"I don't think we have an appointment scheduled for you," Deanna said. "But we can certainly find a time to talk."
She pulled up her schedule and began to look for the next available appointment.
"Actually, I was wondering if I could speak to Lieutenant Yar," he said nervously as shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Alone."
-----------
"Come to gloat?" Walsh said.
He was laying on his back on the bed in his cell. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Lieutenant Yar standing at the edge of his cell in front of the forcefield.
"I came to inform you that the incident that happened earlier today will be added to the report I've filed," Tasha stated.
She had an obligation to inform him of his charges.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about, sir," Walsh said innocently. "I have been locked in the brig for over twenty-four hours."
"Ensign, the next time you ask one of your friends to commit a crime for you, you should probably make sure they don't leave your signature all over it," Tasha said in a calm, steady voice. "He uploaded the entire folder, not just the file I believe you intended to plant."
Walsh's face went pale.
Gomez, you idiot! Walsh said himself.
He was seething.
Walsh closed his eyes as he tried to regain his composure.
"Goodnight, Ensign," Lieutenant Yar said.
"Oh, Lieutenant?" Walsh said.
Tasha stopped.
"I wanted to let you know that I received a response from my grandfather. You know, Admiral Walsh," Ensign Walsh said.
Tasha didn't turn around.
"I managed to get a subspace communication to him once we returned. And wouldn't you know? Luck would have it that he's in the area," Walsh said.
Tasha took a sharp breath.
She knew that she would have to deal with Admiral Josiah Walsh at some point.
She just hadn't expected it to be so soon.
Tasha turned around slowly, working to maintain her poise.
"Ensign, as I said, you will be held responsible for your actions," she stated simply. "Your behaviour has demonstrated conduct unbecoming a Starfleet officer. It is not only unprofessional, but your distraction and inability to focus also presents a danger to the crew."
"See, he was quite upset to learn that his grandson had been attacked," Walsh said as he sat up. "After all that is what happened, Lieutenant."
Tasha scoffed.
"You came after me. You've had a thing for me for months," Walsh said cruelly as he walked toward the forefield. "And I've begged you to stop. To leave me alone. It's not right. And it's against regulations."
She wasn't going to listen to this fantasy.
"Everyone knows. The other members of the security team have seen it. They're afraid too," he went on. "You've got quite the reputation for abusing the power of your position. Assigning Gomez to scrub carbon for a month because he wouldn't sleep with you. Putting Harris on report because he asked you to stop groping him."
"That's a lie," Tasha said darkly.
"Is it?" Walsh asked rhetorically. "I'm the victim here, Lieutenant. You have no idea how many people I can get to say you're a problem, Lieutenant. A predator. Behaviour unbecoming of an officer."
He reached the edge of the forefield and smirked.
"And the best part is, you can't even defend yourself," Walsh snickered. "What would you say? It's all a lie because you're shagging the Second Officer? In and of itself a violation of Regulation 1138. Who do you think they're going to believe?"
Tasha's chest grew tight.
"My grandfather and what I promise will be an extensive investigation?" Walsh cautioned. "Or a Security Chief that's too young for her job who's only excuse is that she couldn't have been harassing her officers because she was too busy bending over for her commanding officer?"
Tasha felt like she'd been knocked back by a punch to the gut.
"A commanding officer, I might add, that isn't even a real person," Walsh grinned, twisting the metaphorical knife.
Instinctively, Tasha took a step back.
"You're not going to win this, Lieutenant," he warned her.
Tasha didn't know what else to say.
She just wanted to get away from him.
She turned and made for the door to the brig.
"If you don't drop these charges, you can bet your cute little arse you'll be assigned to some lonely outpost on the edge of the neutral zone," Walsh shouted after her. "And your boyfriend won't be there to help you."
Tasha stepped out into the corridor and took off toward the left.
She had no particular direction in mind, she just needed to get away from the brig.
She hadn't made it three steps when her combadge went off.
"Lieutenant Yar, please report to my ready room," Captain Picard ordered.
"Right away, sir," she responded.
She had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what his request was regarding.
Tasha stepped into Captain Picard's ready room and took a shaky breath.
"Please take a seat, Tasha," he instructed as he pointed to the chair in front of his desk.
Tasha? Gods it must be bad.
"I don't want to dance around this," Captain Picard said.
"Sir, I take full responsibility for the situation involving Ensign Walsh," Tasha said solemnly. "I apologise. It was foolish of me to put myself in that position and to react the way that I did."
Captain Picard took a seat behind his desk.
"It's my understanding you did so in hopes of curtailing his abhorrent behaviour," Captain Picard said as he sat forward. "Otherwise, he would have been crawling through a Jefferies tube with some poor ensign."
"I overreacted, sir," Tasha said, unable to meet his eyes. "He was frightened, just like the rest of us. I should have just taken it in stride, and it never would have gotten to this point."
"Tasha, I read the report," Jean-Luc said simply. "He physically assaulted you. And I know it wasn't the first time it happened."
Tasha started chewing the inside of her lip.
"Please, Tasha. I want to help," Jean-Luc said in earnest.
"You know every time I think he's tripped himself up he manages to turn it into an advantage," she said defeated. "I can't believe I'm saying this, sir. And I-"
She trailed off and swallowed hard.
"I'm disgusted with myself for it," she confessed, looking at him for the first time since she'd entered. "But I don't think this is a fight worth stepping into. And I think the consequences of losing are worse than if I were to just drop it."
She thumbed away a tear that had fallen, mortified with herself for crying in front of the captain.
"I'm sorry, sir," she said as she turned away.
"No apology is necessary," he assured her. "A member of my team has been assaulted. I am sorry this has happened to you."
"Sir, with all due respect I would just like this situation to go away," she said quietly. "I'll be dropping the charges against Walsh."
Tasha didn't just want the charges to disappear, she wanted to disappear.
She knew it was exactly the opposite advice of what she would give anyone else if their positions were reversed, but she couldn't help it.
"I'm afraid I can't allow that," Picard replied. "Because I agree with you that not only is his performance as an officer lacking, his behaviour and inability to focus is a danger to the crew."
Tasha's breath hitched.
Those were the exact words she'd used with Walsh earlier.
"I think you will find that if you were to pursue these charges, you have more evidence than you realise," Captain Picard explained. "And that Starfleet won't take lightly the idea of an officer using an Admiral's position to threaten another officer."
Tasha looked up at the captain, utterly at a loss for words.
"Sir, how did you?" she trailed off.
"I used my authority as Captain to audio record Walsh's activity in his cell," Picard advised. "There's something poetic when one is brought down by his own hubris."
Tasha sat back as she considered what this meant.
"Hours of rather damning audio files. Asking other officers to collaborate in his scheme. Plotting to harm another officer, Ensign Jeffords," Captain Picard explained. "It's all recorded, Tasha."
"They did, sir," she said. "They did go after Jeffords."
Picard grimaced.
A part of Tasha was overwhelmed that the evidence necessary to corroborate her version of the events was present. It was no small miracle that Picard had thought to record the audio in his cell.
Tasha didn't have the authority to do it.
It was incredibly rare for Starfleet to take such an extreme step.
Normally, such evidence gathering was not necessary as crime was so rare.
Yet, a part of her felt foolish – like the Captain had been forced to do her job for her because she'd failed in her security role.
Captain Picard could sense this.
He feared he understood it all too well.
"My intention was only to do my duty as captain. And to help someone I consider a dear friend," he said softly. "There is no shame in letting others help you."
"Thank you, sir," Tasha replied.
"Lieutenant, I have complete faith in your abilities. I requested you specifically for my crew because I was impressed with your determination and courage. And perhaps the fact that you remind me, from time to time, of a young officer I once knew," he added with a wry smile. "And I'll be damned if some insolent young man who isn't fit to wear this uniform thinks he can come onto my ship and hurt my crew."
Tasha smiled and as she wiped her face with her sleeve.
"I'm sorry, sir," Tasha apologised, embarrassed she was so emotional.
"Tears are certainly permitted in this office," he assured her. "You aren't the first and you won't be the last."
Captain Picard got up and walked over to the window in his ready room.
"Now, that said. Admiral Walsh is coming. And make no mistake, even in light of the overwhelming evidence against his grandson, he's not going to roll over," Captain Picard said darkly. "And he's going to come for you. And Data. Your relationship will be the cornerstone of their efforts."
"Sir, Lieutenant Commander Data has nothing to do with this," Tasha insisted. "This is between me-"
"Oh, but he does," Picard replied as he turned back toward her. "Whether fair or not, Admiral Walsh is already citing Regulation 1138 against both you and Commander Data."
Captain Picard handed her his tablet.
On the screen, Tasha could see there was a Starfleet disciplinary report against each of them.
Tasha was flabbergasted.
They had both been discreet.
The pair had worked diligently, ensuring their personal feelings had no impact on their working relationship or duty to Starfleet.
"But sir, we've never allowed our relationship to influence the chain of command or impact our duty," she protested.
"And yet it has," he said. "Ensign Walsh claims Lieutenant Commander Data threw him into a wall and used his position to threaten Walsh."
Tasha felt a chill settle in her soul as she thought back to their trip to the Edo planet.
"He didn't throw him into a wall," Tasha replied softly. "He sort of, well, pushed him against it."
She realised it didn't sound much better when she said it aloud.
Picard sat down on the edge of his desk.
"We're to rendezvous with the Admiral at Starbase 118 in fourteen days where he plans to conduct a hearing into these charges," Picard explained. "I've taken the liberty of requesting a representative from the Federation JAG office to meet with us in advance and to formally present the charges against Ensign Walsh."
Tasha leaned back and folded her arms.
"I hate it just as much as you do," Picard said. "All this fuss when both know Walsh never should have even made it through the Academy."
Tasha nodded.
She didn't want to go through it.
"It's not going to be easy. But I will be behind you every step of the way. And if there's anyone I know that's prepared to take on this fight, it's the woman I saw face a Carnelian mine field with fierce determination," Picard said with a smile. "You aren't one to back down, Lieutenant. And now is not the time to change that."
"I don't know why it's so easy to walk into danger when it's someone else," she admitted.
"How right you are," Captain Picard agreed, understanding on a personal level how true her statement was. "I don't need to remind you that Ensign Walsh has displayed abhorrent behaviour toward other crew members as well."
He hoped that statement would reassure her that pressing the issue with Walsh was worth it.
Tasha nodded absentmindedly.
Walsh had hurt a number of crew members.
Now was their chance to finally be rid of him.
"Alright, sir," Tasha said. "I'll get started on preparing the necessary information straightaway."
Captain Picard gripped her shoulder.
"Ensign Walsh is perfectly safe in the brig for the time being. We'll get started tomorrow. I've taken up enough of your time tonight and I know the crisis had you pulling double duty," Picard advised. "Besides, I think Mr Data is probably eager for your company."
Tasha couldn't help looking taken aback.
It was the closest thing they had gotten as a blessing from the Captain since starting their relationship.
He'd been frustrated when they had first gotten together, but he couldn't deny that there was something between them.
Jean-Luc considered them both to be not just excellent officers, but also friends. And as he watched them from a distance, he'd realised just how much they were both better for it.
"My crew is my family, Lieutenant," he said. "Now, get out of my ready room."
Tasha flashed him a smile.
As soon as she left, Captain Picard clapped his hands together.
He took a heavy breath as he weighed his options.
Jean-Luc glanced at the time and snapped his fingers.
Why not? He asked himself.
Inspired by the courage of his protégé, Jean-Luc decided to do something a wee bit brave himself.
-----------
A few minutes later he was standing outside of the Crusher family quarters feeling like a schoolboy.
He was about to turn back when the door opened.
Jean-Luc's breath hitched as he tried to remain composed.
She was in her dressing gown.
He'd seen her that way a million times before, but it didn't make it feel any less intimate each time.
"Captain," Beverly said. "What can I do for you?"
"Doctor," he replied as he cleared his throat.
Beverly smiled and waited for him to elaborate.
"Is there something wrong?" she asked after a moment.
"Uh, no," he said awkwardly. "I, um, I was wondering if we might talk?"
Beverly stepped into the corridor. She leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms.
"Of course," she smiled.
Captain Picard glanced around, confused that she hadn't invited him in.
This was not a conversation fit for a public corridor.
"Wes fell asleep on the sofa in the main room," Beverly said, anticipating his confusion. "He's a little past the age where I can pick him up and tuck him in. I didn't have the heart to wake him."
"Oh! Of course," Captain Picard nodded.
"Well, what did you want to talk about?" Beverly pressed.
Jean-Luc panicked.
He hadn't predicted this.
He could feel his courage falter.
"I came to see if we were still on for breakfast?" he lied.
Beverly looked at him strangely.
"We have breakfast every morning," she replied.
He could see she wasn't buying his excuse.
"Right. Great. See you then," he said quickly as he turned to leave.
"Why did you really come, Jean-Luc?" Beverly asked honestly.
He turned back to her and very slowly shook his head.
Beverly suddenly felt warm.
"Goodnight Doctor," he said as he looked at her longingly.
-----------
When Tasha reached her quarters, she found the room was dark.
She frowned as she realised Data wasn't there.
Probably up to his eyeballs in some theoretical formula with Geordi in Engineering.
She ordered a glass of real whiskey from the replicator and flopped down on her sofa.
Tasha took a swig and allowed her head to fall back against the window sill as she let the amber liquid burn down her throat.
She rolled over and rested her head on her hands as she stared out into the dark expanse of the stars they were travelling through.
She had always found comfort in the stars.
When she'd been a little girl on Turkana, the night sky had been her escape. She'd dreamed of adventure far beyond the desolate life Turkana offered.
Exploring the universe was where she felt most at home.
Now, she just needed Data to finish up in Engineering and it truly would feel like home.
They had been together for almost six months and Tasha couldn't begin to rationalize how deep her feelings were for him.
It just felt right.
What if you're reassigned? A pesky voice in her head said.
Tasha felt her mood drop.
She couldn't bear to think about what might happen if these charges against them for violating Regulation 1138 stuck.
They could be demoted or reassigned.
Tasha knew how varied Starfleet assignments were. It could be months – even years – before they would hope to see one another again if it came to that.
Was that any way to live? Desperately waiting for a few days' shore leave with your lover and then back to a nine-month stint on the edge of Federation space?
She didn't want to think about it.
Tasha finished her drink and then ordered another one.
She slammed the second and was about to order a third when it occurred to her a bottle may be a more proficient use of her time.
Tasha kicked off her boots.
"Computer, play some music," she asked.
She laughed when the computer began to play the nineteenth century folk music Data had recently been fixated on.
Tasha couldn't stand it, but she admired his devotion to studying the art.
"Computer, something with less bango," she instructed.
"Please specify a genre," the Computer responded.
Tasha took a swig from the bottle and thought about what she wanted to listen to.
"Computer, play something light. Easy," Tasha instructed.
She wiggled her toes as she pulled off her socks, relishing in the feel of them being free from her boots.
"Jazz," she settled on as she spun around on the carpet.
"Style?" the computer asked.
"Jazz swing," Tasha described.
She smiled as she heard the soothing notes begin to fill her quarters.
Tasha grabbed a clean flannel and headed for the lavvy with her bottle in hand.
-----------
Ninety minutes later, Data stepped into her quarters and was greeted by the sound of music coming from the computer audio system.
He could hear the shower was running.
His android auditory receptors also allowed him to pick up on the faint sound of a voice.
Tasha was singing.
He looked around the main room of her quarters.
Her boots had been tossed carelessly as if she had kicked them off.
Data picked them up and set them next to the door.
The lights were off, but the door to the lavvy was open and there was a soft light spilling out from it.
As he stepped over to the door, his informational bank identified the tune.
Jazz Swing. Earth.
Early twentieth century.
Billie Holiday.
"No, no. They can't take that away from me," she sang softly.
It was evident from the sound of her voice that she had been drinking.
Data opened the door to the shower and found Tasha sitting against the wall. She had one leg pulled up against her chest and was resting her chin on her knee as she swirled a glass of tawny liquid.
On the tile floor of the shower there was a bottle of whiskey with a significant dent in it.
"Tasha?" Data asked gently.
She looked up and smiled.
Tasha sat up and let her head fall back against the tile wall. She raised her glass, sloshing the contents out as she did so.
"They can't take that away from me," she sang louder.
She tried to stand up but lost her footing.
Data caught her and she giggled.
He helped her find her footing as she turned to look at him.
"The way your smile just beams," she sang in a hazy voice. "The way you sing off key."
She buried her face against his chest.
"You never sing off key," she said as she swayed.
Data tightened his grip to keep her upright.
"You're all wet," Tasha said. "Baby, you're supposed to put your uniform on after you shower."
She chuckled against his torso, amused by the thought.
Data opened his mouth to respond, to explain that this was not a matter of him failing to understand human behaviour but thought better of it.
"You are correct," he replied simply as he tried to take the glass from her hand.
She tried to pull it out of his reach, but his android reflexes were too quick.
They were at a standoff – Tasha holding the glass and Data holding her hand around it.
"Please give me the glass," he requested.
"Fine," she grumbled.
He released her hand. To his dissatisfaction, she tried to slam the drink before handing it back to him.
"Ah, ah. No," he said as he tried to pull it away from her.
He let out a small sound of disapproval as the whiskey spilled out of the tumbler and all over her.
"Can you stand on your own for a moment?" he inquired.
"Obviously," she said as she narrowed her eyes and poked his chest.
Data took the glass from her hand and set it on the counter behind him.
When he turned back, she had taken a flannel off the hook in the shower and was furiously scrubbing at her chest.
Data put out a hand and caught her wrist to stop her.
He pulled her arm away to get a better look.
Tasha turned her head away and sighed, frustrated.
For a moment, he stared as he assessed the evidence of what he had feared.
Her skin was red, inflamed and marred from where she had already scrubbed it raw.
Wordlessly, Data took the flannel from her and very gently washed away the whiskey that had spilled, mindful of her tender skin.
"The next time you feel compelled to shower, I would please like you to tell me," he said. "As I intend to join you."
He lightly traced the flannel down the length of her left arm and quietly cleaned each of her fingers before turning his attention to her other arm.
Suddenly, she felt very small.
Tasha had felt so great only a moment before – enjoying not just the music, but also the dreamy feeling of her drunken state.
"What then? So, you wash me?" she said bitterly.
"That is my intention," he admitted.
"Am I that pathetic?" she asked.
"Not at all," he replied as he cleaned the back of her neck. "Perhaps I find this enjoyable."
"Don't lie to me," she replied idly.
He stopped. Data cupped her face and looked at her seriously.
"Tasha, you either do not fully grasp that you are not indestructible, or, as I suspect is more likely the case, you do not care," Data confessed. "And that terrifies me."
Despite her intoxication, she could see in his body language that he was struggling to put words to what he was feeling. Although he had made great strides, the idea of naming and exploring his emotions was still a new step.
"The thought of not having your presence if something were to happen to you is one that I can only describe as emptiness," Data said in a low voice, barely above a whisper.
He pulled her against him as he collected his thoughts.
They stayed like that for a moment, motionless and silent aside from the sound of the water.
"Therefore, yes," he told her. "It is my intention to do this until you can learn to be gentle with yourself."
He brushed the top of her head with a kiss.
"Data, that's not practical," she protested. "Between your schedule and mine, how long do you really think you can keep that up?"
"As long as it takes," he said sincerely.
-----------
Once he was satisfied with his work, Data shut off the tap and scooped her up.
She pouted when she heard his water-logged boots make contact with the floor.
"Your poor boots," she said sadly. "We have to hang them over the fire to dry."
Data cocked his head and looked at her curiously.
"And you'll need to be careful tomorrow," she went on. "I can wrap your feet in the morning and then we'll take a look after a few hours."
She realised Data was looking at her funny.
"What?" she asked. "I don't want you to get trench foot."
He sat her down on the edge of her bed.
"I will put them in the garment reprocessor and replicate a new pair of boots in the morning," Data explained.
He watched as her face lit up.
"Oh, that's right," she grinned as she brought her hand to her forehead.
"You are not back there," Data said.
He knew full well that between the alcohol and the Traveller crisis she was struggling to separate Turkana and the Enterprise.
"Besides, I am an android," he reminded her.
"I still don't want you to get trench foot," she winked.
It made him feel inexplicably warm to know that regardless of his synthetic nature, she cared for him no differently than if he were human.
She'd treated him as a person from the first time they'd met.
And she did so without hesitation or prompting - in a way that (aside from Geordi) no one else ever had.
Data stripped off his wet uniform.
"I'll never get tired of that," Tasha said appreciatively.
Data wasn't capable of blushing, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling shyly in light of her comment.
It never ceased to make him feel good to know that she genuinely adored him.
Once he was out of his wet clothes, he slipped into a pair of Starfleet standard sleep trousers that he kept in her quarters. Data helped her into her own sleep shorts and undershirt and then stepped out of the room.
He returned a moment later with something in his hand.
Tasha hissed when his fingers made contact with the raw skin on her chest.
"This will aid in healing," he explained as he smeared a cool, thick serum on her over-exfoliated flesh.
It stung at first, but after a few seconds it had a cooling and numbing effect.
Minutes later they were nestled beneath the covers.
Tasha was humming the same song she had been singing earlier.
"May I ask why you have a sudden fascination in early twentieth century jazz?" Data inquired.
"Celebrating," she said as she traced lazy circles on the sheet.
"Celebrating that we have returned to the alpha quadrant?" he asked.
Tasha shook her head.
"My first disciplinary report," she giggled.
"A Starfleet disciplinary report?" Data asked in disbelief. "Tasha, you have written numerous disciplinary reports."
"I didn't write it," she said vaguely.
"I do not understand," Data said as he struggled to decipher her meaning. "Who is the subject of the report?"
Tasha, humming softly, pointed at herself.
Data sat up.
Tasha had never been the subject of a disciplinary report.
It was something she took great pride in.
"Don't feel left out," she said slurred. "You get one too, honey."
She giggled.
"I fail to see how this is amusing," Data said gravely.
"Ohhhh," Tasha said boisterously as her eyes grew wide.
She sat up, hiccupped, and turned to Data.
"Violating Regulation 1138. Admiral Josiah Walsh is holding a hearing," she said.
Data was at a loss for words.
He had suspected the incident with Ensign Walsh would eventually lead to confrontation with Admiral Walsh, but he had not anticipated it would take this form.
She looked up at the ceiling.
"How did he say it? Who are they going to believe? A security chief that's too young for her job," Tasha said with a shrug.
She leaned in close against his ear.
"That's me," she whispered as she pointed to herself.
She sat back against the headboard again before resuming.
"Who's only excuse," she gestured wildly, "is that she was too busy bending over for her commanding oss-uh-fer."
Tasha rested her forehead against his.
"That's you," she whispered as she placed her hand on his shoulder.
Data looked at her, concern etched in his features.
"Ensign Walsh said this to you?" Data inquired.
Tasha sat back and nodded.
"It's all recorded," she replied casually.
Data knew it was late and that she was in no state to give him detailed answers.
But he needed to know.
He had many questions and, eventually, through her half-coherent responses he was able to obtain a satisfactory understanding of the situation.
"Therefore, one must conclude this disciplinary report is an act of retaliation," Data said.
"Figure that out on your own, Sherlock?" Tasha teased.
She didn't wait for his response.
"Of course, you did. You're so clever," she said.
He stiffened when she leaned in to kiss him.
She tried to deepen the kiss, but Data put his hand on her shoulder to stop her.
After a few seconds, she surmised it was a battle she wasn't going to win.
Tasha flopped back onto her pillow.
"You're so good to me, Data," she said with a small smile. "And they can't take that away."
Data relaxed a little and slipped back down into bed.
She rolled over and snuggled up against him.
"I won't let them," she promised, followed by a hiccup a few seconds later.
"I am only aware of two instances in which disciplinary action has been taken against officers accused of violating Regulation 1138. It is highly unlikely that Admiral Walsh's attempt at retaliation will be found to have merit," Data advised.
"Data, if it comes to it – if I do get reassigned – would you still," she paused, uncertain of how to ask.
She didn't want him to feel pressured to stay involved in a relationship if it wasn't meeting his needs.
"Data, I want you to answer me honestly. If we wind up on different ships or if I get assigned to some station on the opposite side of the galaxy, would you still want this? Would you still want us?" she asked truthfully.
Data's mind began to spin.
Tasha took his momentary silence as a signal that he was debating the question.
"Because I know that being together, physically together, is an important part of your dream," she went on. "Reading together, the routine of sleeping, all of it. It wouldn't be the same."
Data understood the meaning behind her statement.
There were so many human activities that Data engaged in on a new level because of their relationship.
When she narrated stories for him, it gave him a whole new depth of comprehension to idiom, inflection, and the nuances of the human equation. She offered context and clarity to both humorous and dramatic situations.
He had come to find that he operated better after activating a rest programme designed to emulate human sleep and he 'slept' better when they were together.
Most of all, her presence had so enriched his life that he found he longed for her presence when they were apart.
It didn't matter if they were sitting apart in his quarters focused on their own separate tasks in comfortable silence – he wanted her there.
"Tasha, while I appreciate the opportunity that our relationship offers in furthering my desire to become human, you are much more to me than a just factor in that equation," Data advised.
Tasha grinned against him.
She knew to most humans that would seem like an indifferent statement, but she fully understood the weight his words carried.
For a moment, Data considered this might be the correct time to test the waters regarding a conversation he had been simultaneously eager for and terrified of.
She was certainly in a state that left her unfiltered.
He knew she was guarded with her feelings – and with good reason.
But perhaps, just maybe, this was a safe space in which he could gauge her feelings.
Even under the influence, Tasha could recognise he was deep in thought. His body was tense, and his artificial breathing pattern was elevated.
"Spill it," she said bluntly.
At times, Data found himself frustrated with her ability to correctly interpret the minute changes in his physicality.
Data decided to get straight to the point.
"A significant portion of my neural net is occupied with thoughts of things I would like to undertake with you," Data confessed. "Experiences I would like us to share."
Tasha regretted that her brain was foggy because this seemed like too important a conversation to be disengaged from.
"Hmmm?" she asked.
"I would like to preface this statement that I am not propositioning that we engage in such an activity at this moment in time," Data replied. "But I am curious as to your thoughts on the subject of proliferation."
"Well, I said in my report requesting the new 30 isoton yield photon torpedoes that they are crucial if we're going to send a message to the Romulans," Tasha explained. "They've been proliferating along the neutral zone for the last decade with those high-powered plasma torpedo arrays."
She hiccupped again.
"If they get to have big honkin' space guns, then I want a bigger one," Tasha giggled.
Data was about to resign himself that this conversation would have to wait when she spoke again.
"But I know that's not what you asked," she said as she squeezed him.
Data's cooling system skipped a beat.
"The answer is yes," she went on. "Someday. Not right now, but in the future."
She could feel Data hold her a little tighter.
"Down the road," Tasha said with a yawn.
Data closed his eyes and started to shut down his processes.
"Besides, I imagine we would have a tough time arguing we didn't violate Regulation 1138 with a baby," she giggled.
-----------
The next night, Deanna and Tasha finished their counselling sessions and walked over to the weekly poker game in Commander Riker's quarters.
"You're in a good mood," Deanna commented as they stepped off the turbolift.
It was true.
Despite her hangover and the situation with Walsh, Tasha felt great.
"I've got a story for you the next time we do girls' night," Tasha said cryptically.
"Speaking of which, I believe it's your turn to host," Deanna reminded her.
Tasha grinned and nodded as they stopped outside of Commander Riker's door.
"Come on in!" Commander Riker hollered.
When they stepped inside, both women were taken aback at the scene in front of them.
"I've got stardates 41209 through 41232," Miles O'Brien said as he held up a stack of isolinear file chips.
"Those are the ones from Ensign Sodan," Geordi said. "I'll take those with me."
He stepped carefully as he weaved through the crowd.
"Does anyone have the report from Lieutenant Olivet?" Worf inquired. "I want to file it along with the interviews from Ensign Virtanen and Doctor N'Keth."
"I think I've got that one," Keiko Ishikawa called out from across the room.
Worf was seated at the desk in the corner of Commander Riker's quarters.
Around the table, Beverly Crusher, Nurse Alyssa Ogowa, and her boyfriend, Lieutenant Anthony Powell, were pouring through reports on their PADDs.
Across the room, Keiko Ishikawa and Miles O'Brien were sitting on the sofa and sorting isolinear chips that held ship records.
Ensign Tobey Jeffords was helping Geordi run chips back and forth across the room.
And in the corner, Data was standing in front of a holographic whiteboard with Ensign Sonya Gomez.
Commander Riker was flitting about the room with a pitcher of ale and a tray of refreshments.
"You need another pint, Chief?" Riker asked as he spied the Chief's nearly empty glass.
Every available surface was covered in PADDs, reports, or isolinear chip files.
A second later, the door chimed. Wesley Crusher stepped in carrying a box loaded with more of the ship's records. He squeezed past Tasha and Deanna and stepped over to the table.
"What's going on?" Tasha asked, baffled by the packed room.
Commander Riker carefully meandered through the stacks of information and set down the tray and pitcher on an end table.
"Glad you two are here," he said as he spied the two women. "Could really use your help, T."
"Did I miss a memo about poker night?" Deanna asked.
Will grinned.
"I believe the good doctor can fill you in," Will said as he motioned to the table. "Tasha, can you help me take these back to the library?"
He motioned to two boxes on the floor by the door.
Tasha picked one of them up and they made their way down to the nearest lift.
"What's this all about?" Tasha inquired as they stepped onto the lift.
"Publicly? Captain Picard informed me that we're due for a review at Starbase 118 where some disciplinary charges against Ensign Drew Walsh are to be evaluated," Riker stated. "But I suspect you already knew that."
He gave her a knowing look.
Tasha froze.
Had Captain Picard told him?
Did they all know?
Will Riker could sense he had treaded into a sensitive topic.
"The Captain said you've been tracking a series of instances with Walsh including several harassment charges against a number of crew members. The records are all sealed, but the Captain said you would know what to do with the information we've been asked to gather," Riker said.
Tasha breathed a sigh of relief.
Riker explained they had been tasked with mapping a timeline of Walsh's behavioural issues starting with his service on the Enterprise and going back to his time at Starfleet Academy.
"Off the record, I know that Admiral Josiah Walsh is retaliating against you for bringing these charges against his grandson. It's ridiculous! You're just doing your job," Riker said.
Tasha smiled.
"Thank you, sir," she replied.
It seemed Riker was blissfully unaware of the details as to why the Walsh's were keen to come after her.
It was a relief.
She would rather have them assume it was simply because of her security role rather than know the sordid facts of her various horrible encounters.
"Data told Geordi about the charges," he went on. "And when word got around about it, well, the rest just kind of fell into place."
They stepped off the lift and into the library.
"Geordi caught Worf this morning and he suggested we use poker night to get it all sorted," Riker explained as he dumped the isolinear chip files into the sorter. "Beverly found out when he escorted the Chief to Sickbay this afternoon and before you know it, we had people cropping up all over that wanted to help."
Tasha was dumbstruck.
"I'm not sure if that's a testament to the number of folks Walsh has managed to irk or the number of friends you've got," he said. "But I think it's the latter. Truth be told, I didn't have enough room for everyone that wanted to come."
Will Riker flashed her a broad smile.
It took about twenty minutes to put all of the chips back.
Once they were back on the privacy of the lift, Commander Riker decided it was the time to say something he'd been holding on to for a while.
"It's none of my business, but just so you know, we're all rooting for you," Riker told her.
"Thank you, but let's keep that on the downlow," Tasha replied awkwardly.
"Look, I know you like to keep things discreet," he assured her. "But I'm really glad you two got together. The universe needs a little more love."
He meant every word.
Will Riker was a romantic at heart. He'd seen the way they looked at each other. Even before they got together, he'd heard the way Tasha would defend Data even when he wasn't around. Furthermore, it was nice to know Tasha had found someone she could trust.
It made him feel good knowing the two of them had each other.
-----------
It took the crew another hour to finish sorting the information necessary and return the informational files back to the ship's library.
At 21:40, Sonya Gomez took off for the evening at Geordi's insistence. She had an early shift the next day.
"She's brilliant," Geordi said as soon as she left. "But still struggling with that work/life balance."
"Speaking of which, we have a big day tomorrow," Lieutenant Powell said as he offered his hand to Nurse Ogawa.
"Oh? Anything we should know about?" Beverly teased.
It was common knowledge the two had been together for some time and that marriage was on the horizon.
"No, Doctor," Nurse Ogawa said. "We're joining the crew that's heading to Elphitaur II for the geological survey, remember?"
"That's right!" Beverly said as she recalled the trip.
Lieutenant Powell and the astrogeology team were heading off in a shuttle to conduct some research on a nearby planet. They would be gone for a week and Nurse Ogawa was accompanying the team as the medical officer on board.
The pair said their goodbyes and Ensign Jeffords decided it was best for him to duck out too.
"Thank you," Tasha said as she caught his arm on the way out.
"Ensign Jeffords, wait up!" Wesley called after him. "I have some questions about the academy."
The crowd had wound down to the just senior officers and Keiko as they were seated around Commander Riker's table.
"I cannot thank you enough for your help," Data stated.
"Don't mention it," Keiko said as she squeezed his shoulder.
"When I heard we had a chance to fix this Walsh problem, I jumped at the chance," Geordi said.
"That guy has caused more problems with my team than anyone I've ever served with," Miles told them.
Walsh had been more than just an annoyance to the transporter team. A Bajoran member of the crew that served under Miles had been subjected to routine harassment from Walsh and his gang.
"And when I found he thought they could come after you two, no," Miles said fiercely. "Not gonna happen."
Tasha and Worf exchanged a dark look.
Tasha took a deep breath and leaned forward.
"I really do appreciate all the work you've done. But after tonight, you need to distance yourselves from this," Tasha cautioned. "This situation with Walsh has gone on for months and we've struggled to hold him accountable because of interference from his grandfather."
She didn't want to see her friends drug into the mud along with her and Data.
"We know the risk, T," Geordi assured her.
"We're a team," Beverly added.
"If Walsh thinks he's going to try to bring down you and Data, he's going to have to come after all of us," Worf said defiantly.
"You guys don't need to get involved with this," Tasha warned. "It's too risky."
Geordi shook his head.
"Who saved my butt when that plasma fire broke out in the Jefferies tube?" Geordi asked as he looked to Data. "You two are my best friends."
"You kept us safe when that shuttle went down on Ysirdrel VI," Miles added as he met Tasha's eyes. "Never would have made it out of there without you, Tasha."
"You kept my son safe," Beverly said, referencing their recent trip to the Edo planet as she took Tasha's hand.
She turned and looked at Data.
"And you risked your own life to help bring him home," the doctor said as she looked to Data.
"We're all grateful for what the two you have done for us and this ship," Deanna explained.
"You have put yourself on the line for all of us at one point or another," Worf said stoically. "It is only right that you allow us to step into battle with you this time."
"We're ready for this fight and we've got your back," Riker said as he clapped Data on the back.
Data caught Tasha's gaze.
Wordlessly, she communicated that everything was going to be alright.
After a few seconds, Data glanced around the table at his circle of friends.
His thoughts drifted back to Beverly's words from earlier.
'Remember, family comes in many forms.'
"Alright, now who's up for poker?" Riker said with a giddy smirk.