Author's Note: Thank you so much for your continued support on this story!
Data/Lore/Frankenstein/The Soong Family Drama
This was an intentional inclusion. Once we get through The Battle and The Big Goodbye, Datalore is next on our journey. We'll be addressing why Data has such a big blank spot in his own memories and find out some important clues to his development & changes – including why he's experiencing things like taste and why he's got this built-in need to make babies.
Like Q, I intend to use Lore more frequently than canon. He'll be back again before the conclusion of this story capping season 1. He's got some legitimate grievances. I think he's more misguided than evil.
We'll also see the "Frankenstein's Creature" motif play out again in a different instalment...hint hint.
Sela/Turkana
So yeah...Sela. IMHO, she's a tragic villain that was a victim of her circumstances. She was child – a half human/half Romulan child that looks arguably more human than most Romulans we've seen.
That can't have been an easy childhood.
I think Sela's existence in and of itself causes Captain Picard some significant trauma in the canon material (fingers crossed we see this addressed in Picard). Canon never allowed us to explore Sela and Tasha's relationship and how that likely would cause some significant strain for both women – but in this series, we are *definitely* going to dive into that mess (along with more on Turkana, Tasha and Ishara's strained relationship, and her reasons for leaving).
Sidenote: if you like reading more about Tasha and Sela's mother-daughter relationship, I encourage you to check out my story Yesterday's Enterprise – Borrowed Time.
Please note, it is not set in the same universe as The Complication. AU retelling of Yesterday's Enterprise in which Data accompanies Tasha to the Enterprise-C. Focuses on Sela's early childhood. See story for specific content warnings. It's a WIP.
As always, if you like to chat about writing or the fandom join me on Trek Twitter @TheTartanTart.
----------
Tasha was up early the next day. Data took his time getting dressed as he scoured through his wardrobe choices. Outside of the holodeck, Data rarely wore anything other than his uniform.
It was a nice treat to be able to take time in the morning as he readied himself.
As he buttoned up his waistcoat, Data allowed his thoughts to drift. The vast majority of his life had been spent in the service of Starfleet. He had never before seen any reason to experiment with his own personal appearance.
A part of him had always been hesitant to play around with colours, patterns, and styles for fear that it would further highlight the differences between himself and humans.
But since beginning his service on the Enterprise, Data had come to find that humanoid fashion was just as diverse as people themselves.
Data had always admired Geordi's ability to look sharp. Geordi knew precisely what to wear for any occasion.
As Data admired his own appearance in the mirror, he only hoped that it would live up to Geordi's tutelage.
----------
"That is most certainly not Victorian," Data commented as he came down the ladder to find Tasha pulling a bottle of hot sauce from her satchel.
"Don't ask me to go five days without this," Tasha pleaded.
Data sat down at the table where she had prepared breakfast and coffee for the two of them.
"You know, if I were stranded on a distant planet somewhere and only got to pick one thing to bring with me-" Tasha began.
"You would choose hot sauce?" Data finished for her.
Tasha grinned before popping a forkful of food into her mouth.
"How did you manage on Turkana? Before discovering this?" Data inquired.
He motioned to the bottle in the centre of the table. Tasha's preferred hot sauce was a Bajoran brand known as 'Tears of the Prophets.' It blended a series of spices, citruses, and a pepper known as the Bajoran Fire Viper. Both Tasha and Worf adored the flavour. And between the two of them, they could easily polish off a bottle a week.
"Don't get me wrong, this is much better than anything else," Tasha said as she indicated to the bottle. "But finding heat on Turkana wasn't all that hard."
She explained to Data that most Turkanan food is pretty spicy by nature. In fact, it was about the only thing in abundance on Turkana. It was one of the most common ways to make food palatable and the climate was perfect for growing peppers.
Tasha shared that there were a number of options available – various peppers that grow both wild and cultivated, seeds that were ground to create flavourful powdered spices, and even a venomous slug that was harvested for the signature heat that its slime provided.
"It is a shame that Starfleet records do not include any molecular structure on such materials. Otherwise we could replicate them," Data said.
Tasha chuckled.
"Trust me, you wouldn't like it," Tasha replied.
Data's development of taste had come with preferences – and it certainly didn't include hot food. While he was capable of ingesting hot peppers without the detrimental side effects felt by many humans, Data did not find the experience a pleasurable one.
"I did not mean for myself," Data explained. "I would like to make it for you."
"Well, the next time the Enterprise stops on Turkana I'll show you all the best places to dig for Huglaan slugs," she quipped.
As they finished breakfast, Tasha explained they would need to be in town by 08:00. She was rather coy about the specifics, only to say it would be necessary to get there on time.
"What about you?" Tasha asked as they were cleaning up the table.
"Hmm?" Data inquired.
"If you were stranded on some distant planet. What one thing would you want to have with you?" Tasha asked.
"Geordi," Data teased.
Tasha punched his ribs playfully.
"You can't say people," Tasha said.
"A shuttlecraft," Data answered.
Tasha stopped and shook her head.
"No, you can't pick anything to escape with. That's the whole point!" she exclaimed.
Data feigned innocence.
"There were no rules established," Data protested.
Tasha, who had been wiping the table down, stopped. She tossed the wet rag at him.
"Then I'm changing my answer," she said.
Data set the rag down next to the bowl they were using for clean water. Before he could turn around, Tasha came up behind him.
"I pick a person," Tasha said.
"Do I know them?" Data inquired.
"He's an officer on a starship," Tasha said playfully. "He's tall and he's got dark hair. And I think if I had to be stuck somewhere I'd want him there too. Because he makes me smile."
She stopped, resting her chin between his shoulders.
"Me?" Data asked.
"No, Worf," Tasha teased.
Data blinked, perplexed.
Was this an attempt at humour?
"Was this because I chose Geordi?" Data questioned.
"No!" Tasha laughed. "You. I was just teasing, honey. It's you. It will always be you."
"Ah! A jibe," Data said, realising that her earlier statement was a jest.
"But don't think I'm going to forget that you chose Geordi," Tasha said with a grin.
Data turned around and took hold of her hands.
"I said Geordi because in the event that I were to be stranded somewhere, I am confident that we would be capable of devising an escape," Data said honestly. "And if escape were not an option, I would not want you to suffer the same fate."
Data kissed the inside of her wrist and studied her reaction.
Tasha suddenly felt warm.
He had processed all of that in a matter of seconds.
"Your mind never ceases to amaze me," Tasha confessed.
----------
"Now, I know you're made of strong stuff, but you'll need to wear one of these," the blacksmith said as she handed Data a thick leather apron.
Data nodded in understanding as he slipped the garment on and tied it around the back.
Mrs Porter was a short, stout woman and Data got the immediate impression that she was not to be crossed. Like Tasha, she seemed to possess a calm but firm nature that was capable of controlling any situation.
They chatted politely as she instructed Data how to properly heat an iron bar that he would be shaping into a project of his choice. Mrs Porter had allowed him to choose from a number of beginner blacksmithing projects and Data would perform the task from start to finish as part of his experience.
Tasha was working on her own project a few metres away on the other side of the dual forge under the guidance of Mrs Porter's apprentice, Mr Blankey.
Their lesson had begun with a tour of the forge and a few lessons on the basics. After using the bellows to heat the forge, they had begun. While Data did not experience the sensation of heat in the same manner as humans, he was capable of detecting the temperature of the forge and knew it would be capable of burning his bioplast much in the same way as skin.
Once the metal had reached a bright yellow intensity, Mrs Porter had instructed Data to remove it from the forge. With her help, Data lined it up in the appropriate spot on the anvil. Holding the rod in one hand and a hammer in the other, Data carefully pounded one end of the metal over the side of the anvil to create a ninety-degree angle.
Data watched with interest. As he struck the object, the colour began to change from yellow to a vibrant orange.
Once that was complete, the metal was now in the shape of a 'v.'
Data turned to Mrs Porter for further instruction.
"Um, sorry," she apologised. "I'm not used to anyone nailing their shape in one hit."
She shook her head and returned her focus back to the project.
At Mrs Porter's instruction, he placed the rod on the top of the anvil and struck each tip to form a tapered end. She guided Data to use the horn or tip of the anvil to carefully curve the edges and advised he may want to decrease his strength output so as to carefully tap it into position.
With the final blows of the hammer, it was as if the heat had cracked away as the orange shade gave way to a cooler red.
Data pounded the tips of the rod to create a curve at each end. Once the curves were in place, he pounded the two tapered ends together to form a heart.
"Astounding," Mrs Porter said as Data dipped the object into the quenching bucket to both cool and harden the iron.
Tasha still had a ways to go on her own project and they weren't due at their next stop for another hour. No one had expected Data to complete his project so quickly. It had been only a matter of a few blows of the hammer to finish a task that typically took newcomers at least ninety minutes.
Mrs Porter was happy to allow Data to help with several other projects. He was intrigued and had an endless number of questions about the craft, her training, and how critical her work was to the entire historical preserve.
"We all have important roles," Mrs Porter explained. "But yes, I suppose you could say Mr Blankey and I are a pretty critical spoke in the wheel."
Data eyes flitted back and forth as he attempted to grasp the meaning of her phrase.
"Spoke?" he inquired.
Mrs Porter pointed to a passing cart.
"Ah! I see," Data said as he spied various wood rods that radiated out from the centre of the wheel. "Your work is a significant foundational piece of the community, much like those 'spokes' on that ancient transportation vehicle."
Mrs Porter chuckled.
"You are an interesting duck," she commented.
"I am an android," Data clarified. "Not a form of waterfowl."
----------
"It is-" Data's head twitched as he tried to find the appropriate words.
He was reluctant to call it 'well formed' as it lacked the same finesse and smooth lines as his own project.
And he didn't want to say it was 'interesting' lest she be offended.
In part, he was racking his brain to determine how she had spent so much time making such a small object.
Tasha was beaming as she held up her own blacksmithing project for his evaluation.
Data inhaled as if he were about to speak and froze.
"What is it?" Data asked, finally having the courage to voice his question.
She was incredibly proud of her work and for the life of him, Data simply couldn't understand what the function of such an object was.
It was a small hook with an eye at one end and a barb on the other.
"It's a fishing hook," Tasha explained. "See? You thread the hook through here."
Tasha bit her lip, feeling confident in her craft and excited about the prospect of testing it later.
"You are a cute duck," Data said suddenly.
"What?" Tasha asked as she looked at him, the meaning of his statement completely lost on her.
Data suspected he'd made an error.
He explained that Mrs Porter had called him an 'interesting duck' and after some initial confusion, she had explained that it was a term sometimes used to refer to a person.
"Did I use that correctly?" Data inquired.
"Not even close," Tasha giggled.
Data looked slightly dejected.
"I love you, you know," she whispered.
She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
"Especially when you say things like that," she assured him.
Tasha and Data put their projects into her satchel and headed off for their next experience.
----------
Data was hand-in-hand with Tasha as she guided him along the road toward their next stop.
She'd asked him to close his eyes and shut off his audio receptors so that it would be a surprise.
He wasn't sure exactly what their destination was. Based on the distance and time interval of their travel, it was outside of the village in a different direction than the farm.
As they approached their next destination, Tasha tapped his shoulder twice. It was their signal that it was time for him to open his eyes and turn his hearing back on so to speak.
"Beekeeping," Data said in awe.
He turned and looked at Tasha and then back at the apiary in front of them.
"Tasha," he said. "Were you aware that beekeeping was-"
"Sherlock Holmes's hobby after he retired," they finished together.
A local farmer, Mr Greene approached the pair and explained that he was all ready to show them how Victorian farmers minded bees.
"Have at your bees," Tasha said.
She gave him a quick kiss on the back of the hand.
"I won't be far," she explained.
"You are not joining?" Data inquired.
Tasha shook her head.
As much as she desired to do things together, Tasha had no desire to get stung.
Data understood.
His bioplast was not capable of sustaining any damage from bees. As he worked with Mr Greene, Data realised that his android abilities offered him several natural advantages to living and working in a Victorian lifestyle.
However, he understood that for someone like Tasha, the advantages of modern science and technology made life far easier. While she certainly had the skills necessary to get by, everything took significantly more time – from preparing food to creating the materials necessary to live.
"Autumn is peak honey harvesting time," Mr Greene explained.
He held up a large basket and handed it over to Data to examine. Greene described the item as a 'skep.' The beekeeper informed Data that prior to 1851, this device was commonly used to keep bees. However, it was replaced by the Victorian invention of a beehive.
"Harvesting honey from skeps often involved killing the hive," Greene explained.
Greene informed Data that his bees were Apis mellifera or European honeybees that had been specially brought in for their research. The honeybees were a rare species that had largely been wiped out by the early 21st Century.
Through careful preservation, a small colony of bees had survived. And with the help of naturalists and beekeepers like Greene, they had managed to keep the species alive through to the 24th Century.
"But there aren't many of them left," Green said. "Part of my job here is to help preserve and grow the species."
They pulled out the first tray and Data observed hundreds of bees milling about as they worked to produce honey to feed their colony.
Greene showed him how to check the combs and analyse the health of the hive.
"Now, we've got to protect the hive. It gets windy in the winter, and we need to be sure they're strong in the spring," Greene said. "But we need to be sure there's adequate ventilation."
With Data's help, Greene set up a number of windbreaks around the hives. He showed him how to measure and assemble wind breaks to ensure they were planted firmly and wouldn't blow around.
There was something that Data found soothing about the process. The bees were good company and Data could see himself enjoying this task on a regular basis.
He had a new appreciation for the fictional Holmes's fixation with the hobby.
Unfortunately, Data knew that beekeeping was not a hobby that was available on the Enterprise. Not only was it impractical, but there would also be no purpose for such animal husbandry on the ship. Furthermore, Data knew that his duties would likely not permit him the time and care needed for such an undertaking.
Nonetheless, he considered it may be a relaxing holodeck programme to consider. And he would certainly like to include some beekeeping information in one of his upcoming lectures at the Enterprise school.
They poured the honey they had harvested onto a fine cloth to strain away any impurities and dead bees.
In the end, they had produced a jar of raw honey. Data figured it would make a fine treat for his next lecture for the kids in the Enterprise school and was already formulating a discussion for exobiology on the various animal species that produced honey.
Aside from a variety of bees, there were numerous wasps, ants, and aphids that produced honey throughout the quadrant.
Once he was finished, Data found Tasha a few metres away. She was sitting in the grass, hunched over something intently.
As he grew closer, Data saw that she was weaving something together. It was a long, narrow item with a conical shape.
"How did it go?" Tasha asked as he approached.
"You may tell me," Data instructed. "Please open your mouth."
As rubber seals for jars were not invented until the Edwardian Era, Data's jar of honey was sealed with a cork. He removed the cork, dipped his finger into the amber liquid, and offered it to her.
"Mmm," she nodded, giving her approval to the product.
"Is it acceptable?" Data inquired.
"Better than acceptable," Tasha assured him. "Marvellous."
Using a different finger so as to preserve the product free from human contamination, Data tasted the product himself.
The liquid was overwhelmingly sweet, but not unpleasant. There was a tangy, woody flavour to the honey. Mr Greene, the beekeeper, had explained that this was considered blueberry honey as the bees fed on nectar from his blueberries. The end result was that it produced an earthy, full-bodied honey.
Tasha got up from the ground and they headed back to the hitching post near Mr Greene's stable.
They had brought Clopper along for the day.
"What are you working on?" Data inquired as she attached the project to hang from Clopper's tack.
"It's an eel buck," Tasha explained. "According to what I've read, there's a good chance of catching eel in some of the ponds around here."
Data's eyes lit up.
"Tasha, I was not aware that you had an interest in the biology of Terran Anguilliformes," Data said.
The exobiologist in Data was thrilled.
"While there are thousands of eel species throughout the known universe, there are over eight hundred on Earth alone," Data said.
Tasha unhitched Clopper's reins and led him back to the farm. As they walked along, Tasha listened to Data explain various facts about eels. He had an endless capacity to consume knowledge.
She'd never found his tendency to babble annoying.
In fact, Tasha found it endearing.
"My particular favourite type of eel would be the Echidna nebulosa or Snowflake Moray," Data informed her. "While it is a fairly common species, I find it's distinctive colour pattern and markings to be aesthetically pleasing."
As Data continued to discuss the Snowflake Moray, he realised that he was dominating the conversation. Keen to include Tasha, he asked if she had a favourite eel.
"Deras eels from Hwylein IV," Tasha answered automatically.
Data's brow furrowed. Tasha had not offered a particular reason for favouring such a species. He was familiar with the species and was having difficulty discerning why she would pick it.
"Tasha, I do not wish to disparage your selection. However, I must admit that I fail to understand why you have chosen the Deras eel as a favourite," Data said.
When it came to aquatic life, they were far from an aquarium favourite. They were a dull, dark shade and relatively small in size. They didn't get it along with many other species and were difficult to care for. They were an essential part of the ecosystem of Hwylein IV. Aside from that, they lacked any qualities to make them remarkable.
"They're sweet," Tasha answered.
Data looked at her in confusion.
"They taste sweet," Tasha clarified.
Data glanced back at the project she had been working on.
"It is your intention to catch an eel for the purpose of eating it," Data said, putting it all together in his mind.
"Mmm hmm," Tasha replied.
"I have never eaten a living being," Data admitted.
"Well, I'm going to cook it first, lunkhead," she grinned.
"I understood that," Data countered. "I meant that I have never actually consumed food that was sourced from an actual, living being."
"I know what you meant," Tasha said as she took hold of his hand. "I was just razzing you."
Before Data could say anything, Tasha felt it necessary to offer her reassurance.
"It's OK if you don't want to try it," Tasha told him.
She got the distinct impression that he had an aversion to consuming food harvesting in such a manner and didn't want him to feel pressured.
"I find myself facing a moral conundrum," Data confessed. "My own sentience has often been questioned by humanoids. While neurobiological research has concluded that such fish do not process fear and pain in the same manner as humanoids-"
Data paused and raised his eyebrows.
"Technically, neither do I," he concluded.
"I never thought about it like that," Tasha acknowledged.
They were almost to the farm.
"Would it bother you if I caught one?" Tasha inquired.
Data shook his head.
"No," replied in earnest. "And I may be interested in trying it. I have not yet decided."
"Don't let it weigh too heavily on your mind," Tasha said. "No pressure."
----------
They returned to the farm and Tasha removed Clopper's tack. After ensuring he was fed and hydrated, she joined Data inside. He'd set the table for the two of them.
"Those kids are planning to stop out in about an hour," Tasha reminded him. "What do you want to do tomorrow?"
As they ate lunch, they glanced at the map of the area and made a plan.
"I would like to visit this spot," Data said as he tapped the spot on the map labelled 'Brighton's Pond.'
According to the locals, it was a beautiful spot. The pond was a decent size and offered a picturesque view of the surrounding area. It was also not too far off from one of the nearby caves that featured an underground waterfall with plenty of breath-taking caverns to explore.
"I would like to bring my sketchbook," Data went on. "And the motionless water of the pond would increase your chances of success in your fishing endeavour as it is the European eels preferred habitat."
He smiled at her from over the rim of his saucer of coffee and Tasha understood he was attempting to convey that he was perfectly alright with her fishing – even if he hadn't quite worked out his own moral dilemma regarding the matter yet.
Once lunch was finished, they cleared the table. Tasha had brought in her project and continued to work on weaving together her eel buck. Meanwhile, Data sat across from her at the table reading one of the books he had checked out from the library.
Shortly before 15:00 hours, a glimpse of movement caught Tasha's gaze. She looked up from the table and spied several pairs of eyes peeking through the window into the kitchen.
Suddenly, they disappeared as the children ducked.
A moment later there was a soft knock.
Tasha got up from the table to open the door. She found all six children from the day before waiting nervously outside. They had come fresh from school – having all raced out to the farm in an effort to be first to arrive in hopes of getting more time with the visitors.
"Hi," she said with a smile.
"Can we see Mr Data?" Henry asked.
"Come on in," Tasha said as she stepped aside.
The kids all scrambled inside the tiny kitchen, pushing past one another to be in front of the line.
All that is, except the girl that had introduced herself the day before as Frankie.
"You don't want to come inside?" Tasha inquired.
"I didn't come to see Mr Data," Frankie explained. "Can I hang out with you?"
Tasha waved her inside.
The kids had an endless series of questions for Data. They were impressed by the android and eager for more information.
"Mr Data-" Rupert began.
He was cut off by Henry.
"Mrs Porter said you were the strongest blacksmith she's ever seen. Could you bend an iron beam with your bare hands?" Henry asked.
"I am capable of bending a variety of objects including iron," Data answered. "Iron itself is not-"
"I read a book about a strongman named Wolfgang, and he could lift all sorts of things like a carriage, and people, and even a tiger," Henry exclaimed.
"If I join Starfleet, can I be an android too?" Lucy asked.
"Have you ever been to the moon? Is it really made of cheese?" Bertie demanded to know.
"Mr Data-" Rupert tried again.
"Earth's moon is a satellite object composed of a rocky and metallic body that-" Data attempted to explain.
Unfortunately, the stream of questions did not end.
"Do you have to wear an extra jumper in space because it's cold?" Henry inquired.
"Mr Data-" Rupert attempted again.
Rupert, quiet and inquisitive, was overshadowed by the other children's excitement.
Data was having trouble prioritising all of the incoming questions that were lobbed in his direction.
"Can you get bogeys?" George, the youngest, asked as he stuck his finger in Data's nose.
Data's eyebrows shot up.
"Please remove your finger from my nasal passage," Data requested.
George pulled his finger back, bringing it close to his eyes for inspection. Tasha bit back a grin as she watched him pop it into his mouth to analyse it.
She caught Data's eye and could tell from his expression he was confused and disgusted by young George's actions.
"While observational data is an essential part of information gathering, I do not recommend such an action in the future," Data said.
He took hold of George's hand and pulled it from his mouth.
"Now then, I believe it would be prudent for us to establish an orderly process for handling your inquiries," Data suggested. "This current method is chaotic."
While it sufficed to stop the children from talking over one another, it appeared they did not understand.
"Data will answer your questions but we're going to go one at a time," Tasha clarified for the children. "And we'll start with Rupert, since he didn't get a chance to ask yet."
In their short time together, Tasha was perceptive enough to understand Rupert was a wallflower. Tasha suspected Rupert was often overlooked because of his shy nature.
Rupert's face brightened at the prospect of finally getting to ask the android a question.
To Data's astonishment, Rupert retrieved a list of questions from his pocket. He'd read all about starships and given a detailed report on them at school. While the historical preserve still taught children in an old fashioned schoolhouse using historical methods, their academic curriculum was modernised – including learning all about the galaxy, the Federation, and starships.
He cleared his throat and then took a big breath.
"What class starship do you serve on and what is your position and rank?" Rupert inquired.
"Your preparation is admirable, Rupert," Data remarked. "You are exceedingly organised for a child."
"Because he's a dork," Bertie sniggered.
Most of the other children giggled.
"Shut it, Bertie," Frankie said. "Just because you flunked maths-"
"Well, you look like a boy," Bertie snapped. "And I think you're ugly."
"I don't care what you think. I wouldn't like you if you were the last boy on Earth," Frankie huffed.
"Whoa, hey," Tasha said, attempting to step in.
"Very rude behaviour," Data tutted as he turned to Bertie.
The room erupted in a back and forth of attempting to place blame as the children factionalised.
"Allllllright," Tasha said in a firm, but even tone. "I'm going to give you a choice."
She outlined a series of rules for the children. They needed to be polite to one another. She wouldn't tolerate name calling, bullying, or any shouting. They would each need to wait their turn. Tasha requested they form a circle and sit quietly within their own space.
"And absolutely no fighting," she said as she picked up Bertie in one hand and Henry in the other as they had started a round of fisticuffs over being too close together in the circle.
"Whoa," Henry remarked as she held them apart at arm's length. "You're pretty strong for a girl."
Tasha wanted to make a statement about this, but decided against it. She didn't want to derail the conversation and she could address it later with the kids.
"You can choose to sit quietly and follow the rules, or you choose to leave," she announced firmly.
All of the children dropped to the floor quickly.
Data gave her a short nod of appreciation. He had always admired her ability to take control of a situation with a cool composure.
He turned his attention back to Rupert.
Data informed them that he served aboard the USS Enterprise and the vessel was both a Galaxy-class starship and the flagship vessel of the United Federation of Planets.
"My rank is Lieutenant Commander. I serve several roles on the ship including Chief Operations Officer and Chief Science Officer. I am a graduate of Starfleet Academy with honours in Exobiology and Probability Mechanics," Data shared. "And may I say, Rupert, that such preparation as you have presented here is an essential part of the role of a Starfleet officer."
It was Data's hope that his words of encouragement would offer the boy some reassurance. In a way, Data could relate to the child.
"And third in command of the Enterprise," Tasha reminded him.
"Do you serve on the Enterprise too?" Henry blurted out.
"Of course," Lucy said as she rolled her eyes.
"You don't know that," Henry responded.
His tone was not argumentative, but Tasha could see that was the direction in which the conversation was headed. Before she could redirect them, Lucy interjected.
"Duh, they're married," she scoffed.
"Boys are so stupid," Frankie whispered to Tasha.
Tasha wanted to chuckle, but she didn't want to encourage the attitude.
Tasha turned and was about to remind her of the rules when Frankie's eyes went wide.
"Except Rupert," Frankie corrected before she quickly added. "I know, I know. Be kind."
"We are not married," Data said.
"Why?" George asked.
An uncomfortable silence fell on the room as neither Data nor Tasha was quite sure what to say. It was a loaded question in and of itself and not one that either of them was ready to discuss at the moment – certainly not in front of a captive audience of children.
They had both agreed after Keiko and Miles's recent engagement to have the conversation at some point.
But they had collectively agreed they were not ready. Between their careers, there was already enough complexity. Add to that Data's incessant desire to start a family and Tasha's emotional baggage from her last engagement, it was more than enough to fill Deanna's calendar with counselling sessions.
Data and Tasha weren't opposed to the idea. In fact, both of them had agreed to work with Deanna in hopes of trying to find a way to make it possible.
Marriage or a bonding of some sort was certainly the end goal.
But they had to get through a few hurdles before they were ready to make that particular jump.
"George, as you are next in the circle, you may ask a question next," Data said, completely avoiding the previous question.
"Why?" George repeated.
Smartarse. Tasha mused internally.
"A different question," Data specified.
Wee George scrunched up his face as he thought about what he wanted to ask.
"Do you have a bum?" George asked.
"Yes," Data replied cautiously.
"Can I see it?" George inquired without missing a beat.
"You have already asked one question, you will need to wait for your next turn before asking another," Data said.
He opened his mouth to turn to the next child in line and then promptly stopped.
"But you will want to consider a different question as the answer is no," Data added as he looked back at George.
Data realised it was important to clarify that upfront.
Tasha was doing her best to choke back her laughter. She understood children were inquisitive by nature – and that six-year-old kids had a tendency to fixate on some of the strangest, grossest, or silliest things they could.
The kids and Data chatted for a while as questions of starships, moons, planets, and aliens filled the room as they listened to stories about how the Enterprise travelled all across the alpha and beta quadrants.
Aside from an occasional oddball question from George – what happens if you shoot a tomato in the sun? Does space smell? Can bogeys float? – the afternoon continued in an orderly fashion.
Data told them all about the Byaki, the mysterious feline predator they had encountered in the Strnad system that could become invisible. He described in detail what it was like to travel through a wormhole and shared with them how beautiful nebula clouds could be.
Henry was next in line.
"Are you an exopropulsionologist too?" Henry asked Tasha, slowly sounding out what he could remember from Data's lengthy list of roles.
Data was about to clarify that an 'exopropulsionologist' was not a real position, but Tasha decided on a different tactic.
Simple was best in her opinion – honest, of course – but brought down to a level that children could comprehend.
"No," Tasha responded. "It's my job to keep everybody safe."
"Like the constable?" Henry asked to clarify.
"Sort of," Tasha answered.
"That's why you're so strong," Henry commented.
"Tasha is a dedicated athlete, a Third Dan black belt in Aikido, and an adept pugilist," Data commented.
Most of the children blinked, the meaning of Data's statement completely lost on them.
"Adept pugilist?" Frankie asked.
"It means she's a good boxer," Rupert explained.
"Like with your fists?" Frankie inquired as her eyes went wide with excitement at the prospect.
Bertie and Henry exchanged a frown.
"But you said no fighting," Henry protested.
"Yeah," Bertie chimed in. "How can you be good at something if you don't do it?"
Tasha wasn't sure how to answer.
"Who would like to pick pears in the orchard?" Data suggested.
----------
Data's quick thinking had been exactly the thing they needed. The children had sat still for nearly forty-five minutes as they had gone through their questions. He surmised that they needed physical activity as they had become restless.
The orchard gave Rupert a chance to talk more in-depth with Data while Bertie and Henry climbed on one another to try and reach the pears.
"Up we go," Data said as he lifted George high enough to grab a pear.
"Oooo, it's got a wormy," George said.
Wee George, utterly fascinated with the slimy worm he had discovered, asked if he could sit by the tree and play with it.
"Don't eat it!" Bertie shouted as he ran by.
Henry, George, and Lucy had abandoned picking pears in favour of chasing one another around.
"That was quite brave of you to stand up for Rupert," Tasha told Frankie.
The young girl shrugged as she placed another pear in the basket.
"Well, it was kind of you. Even if boys sometimes are stupid," Tasha winked.
"Rupert's different," Frankie said.
She reached up and climbed up into the tree. Tasha could remember what it had been like to be that age – climbing trees, boulders, anything and everything.
Although on Turkana, climbing had been more of a matter of survival than entertainment.
Frankie jumped down a moment later, landing on her feet with a soft thump.
"Do you climb trees?" Frankie asked.
Tasha could see from the way her brow was furrowed that this was a very serious question.
"No," Tasha answered.
"Oh," Frankie replied.
The young girl's face fell.
"But could you? If you wanted to?" Frankie asked.
Tasha didn't know why this question was so important, but Frankie's face looked like she was pleading with her, hoping against all odds that it was true.
"I suppose I could," Tasha explained. "I like to climb mountains."
Frankie seemed to relax upon hearing that information.
She looked around to make sure they were out of earshot of the others.
"Can I share a secret with you?" she asked.
Tasha nodded and knelt down.
"I'm going to be twelve next month. And mummy says that once I'm twelve I have to start acting like a lady," Frankie whispered. "No more climbing trees. And I'm not a-sposed to sneak out with Rupert anymore at night. She knows. I thought it was a secret, but she said her and Papa know."
Tasha found herself at a loss for words. She didn't want to say the wrong thing and get looped into what seemed like an important family issue.
"We like to look at the stars," Frankie clarified. "He's got a telescope."
"Oh," Tasha said.
Tasha exhaled with relief.
"We built a fort in the woods behind Mr Greene's farm," Frankie went on. "None of the other kids are allowed."
Tasha motioned as if to 'zip her lips' to signify that she understood this was a secret of great importance.
"But I don't wanna be a lady," Frankie confessed. "I want to be an explorer."
"I see," Tasha said as she nodded slowly.
She could empathise. Growing up, Tasha had bucked pretty much every expectation herself as there weren't a lot of options available aside from joining one of the factions fighting in the civil war, drug running, sex work, or attempting to eke out a meagre subsistence living as a farmer or miner.
Shy of hard labour, war, or tugging a guy for a strip of latinum, her career options had been limited.
"You know when I was a wee girl, I used to stare at the stars and dream of what it would be like to live there," Tasha shared.
Frankie looked down and picked at her fingernails.
"When we're old enough, Rupert and I are going to join Starfleet," Frankie said. "But mummy says once I'm twelve I have to stop dreaming and grow up."
Frankie flopped down against a tree with a big sigh.
"Have you told your mum how you feel about it?" Tasha asked.
Tasha herself was feeling a tad bit nervous about the direction of the conversation. She'd never had a mother to have such discussions with and she wasn't keen to override whatever her parents had told their daughter.
Suddenly, Frankie gasped.
"Maybe you could talk to my mum!" Frankie exclaimed. "She says Starfleet is no place for a lady. But you're a lady, right?"
Tasha knew that some of the residents of the historical preserve were quite set in their ways. They eschewed modern technology and had strong feelings about Starfleet's reliance on it.
It was part of why Tasha had opted to rent the farm away from the village rather than staying at the inn.
"Eh...maybe you should talk to your mum first," Tasha suggested.
Whoo boy. Tasha thought to herself.
"Would you come with me to do it?" Frankie asked as she tugged at Tasha's sleeve.
Tasha swallowed hard. The very last thing she wanted to do was tell a parent how to raise their child.
"Why don't we talk about it more tomorrow, hmm?" Tasha said.
She was definitely going to need to think about how to handle this before making any promises.
----------
At 16:30 hours, the kids prepared to head back to town. They were due back for their evening chores and didn't want to be late. Before leaving, they asked if they could come back the next day.
And the day after.
"And the day after that?" Bertie asked eagerly.
Data and Tasha had looked at one another.
"We're only going to be here a few days," Tasha explained.
"Why?" George asked.
"Because we have to return to the Enterprise," Data answered as they herded the kids to the edge of the orchard.
"Why?" George asked again.
"Because it is our duty," Data said.
The children climbed over the edge of the low, stone wall that separated the farm and the road.
While Data was infinitely patient, he was feeling a strange sense of frustration at the repeated nature of the same question. It took Data 0.12 seconds to determine that between this child's unrelenting curiosity and his own nature – they could easily wind up in a never-ending loop.
"Why?" George repeated.
"Because we are in Starfleet," Data answered.
"Why?" George asked once more in the same tone.
"Because we are," Data said simply.
He picked up George and lifted him over the wall with the other kids.
"But why?" George insisted.
"You must go home now," Data reminded him.
George glanced up the road where the other children were about a few metres away as they raced back to the village. He looked back at Data and opened his mouth.
Before he could ask 'why' again, Data cut him off.
"Goodbye, George," Data said.
"Bye!" George shouted as he ran after the other kids.
Data sighed in relief as the kids left.
He turned around to find Tasha standing behind him with a smirk.
"I must admit that I found that experience exhausting," Data confessed.
Tasha bit back a laugh.
"What is so amusing?" Data inquired as they turned back to the house.
"Well, you're the one that's so eager for babies," Tasha teased.
"Infants do not ask why," Data retorted.
----------
The weather was cloudy but cooperative. Having completed her eel buck, they had some time before dinner. Tasha and Data decided to take a walk down to Brighton's pond to scope out the area. It wasn't far from the entrance to a cave known as the Demon's Pot. The cave itself was said to be a beautiful spot for caving and featured an underground waterfall.
So with Tasha's trap in hand, they set out for the pond.
True to the locals' word, the location was a pristine spot that Data was keen to explore. The pond itself had formed in a natural depression and was fed by a nearby stream. Surrounded by marshland, it was a haven for local wildlife and featured an interesting mix of biodiversity.
On their way to the area, Data had already identified a number of interesting wildlife sightings including the rare Boloria selene or small pearl-bordered fritillary. It was an uncommon species of butterfly. The caterpillars of the species would soon begin cocooning over winter.
When they reached the pond, Data spotted a Kingfisher in a nearby tree. Data's android abilities allowed him to spot and focus on the vibrant shade of its plumage as he flitted about. The signature electric blue stood out among the bare branches of the trees.
They took a few moments to find the edge of the cave that was known as the Devil's Pot. They hadn't brought a lantern or any caving gear with them, so they stuck close to the entrance.
"There's a lantern in the barn," Tasha commented. "We'll have to bring it back tomorrow. That is, if you want to explore it."
"The carboniferous limestone of this cave was created more than 350 million years ago when it was laid down as sediment formed by the remains of sea creatures deposited on the seafloor," Data explained.
He ran his hand along the cave wall as he analysed the rock.
"This limestone contains the fossils of corals, brachiopods, and crinoids," Data said.
He was eager to investigate the area. Without tricorders, Data would have to explore using ancient archaeology techniques – a thought that excited him. Data had read extensively about the likes of Herbert Hall and T.E. Lawrence.
Data paused as Tasha reached into the pocket of his waistband to fetch his pocket watch.
"We have time to stop by the village before everything shuts down," Tasha said. "There's an archaeologist that has an office there."
Tasha recalled reading about him during her research into the area.
"Doctor Applewhite," Data said.
"Yes," Tasha nodded, surprised he was aware.
"I observed some of his research during our time at the library," Data explained.
There was a case near the entrance that featured a number of local finds made by Doctor Applewhite in recent years. Not only did the area feature the remains of various ancient marine life, but there were also neolithic and Bronze Age burial sites, Roman military camps, Iron Age enclosures, and years' worth of archaeological evidence of the lifeforms that had populated the area since the last ice age.
"Come on," Tasha said. "Let's get the trap planted for tomorrow and then head back to the village."
There was a dock at the pond with a small community rowboat that was available for use. Using the boat, Tasha planted her eel trap along the embankment of the pond in an area where the water was so motionless that it looked almost like glass.
As they rowed around the pond, Data observed someone emerging from the cave entrance.
"It would seem this spot is popular with the locals," Data surmised.
Tasha nodded.
"Yeah, Oswalt said he brings his family here every Sunday," Tasha replied.
The postmaster had advised Tasha that the cave was one of the most popular spots for many of the researchers in the area.
"I'll check the trap when we come back tomorrow," Tasha explained. "Hopefully it will work."
She had a wicked gleam in her eye at the prospect of being resourceful enough to catch their next meal.
It was the survival instinct that was embedded inside of her.
Data subconsciously shook his head.
There would always be a part of her – the part of Tasha that needed to test the limits of her physical and mental strength on the holodeck – that Data would never fully comprehend.
That was a bond she shared with Worf.
Much like Data's own drive for curiosity had deepened his friendship with Geordi, Tasha had a need to test her skills as a warrior. It was a thought that Data found as fascinating as it was terrifying.
"What?" Tasha asked as she looked up at him.
"You are a cute duck," Data teased.
She had insisted on being the one to row, complaining that there wasn't enough physical activity here for her.
From her position at the front of the boat, Tasha kicked him playfully.
With his android reflexes, Data caught her foot.
"Not fair," Tasha protested.
Tasha was laughing, struggling to free her foot when she lost her balance and the boat capsized sending them into the freezing water.
The pond wasn't deep – less than two metres.
Data had quickly found his footing and stood up, the weight of his frame causing his feet to sink into the sandy surface of the pond a few centimetres.
Tasha popped up a second later – gasping and sputtering as she caught her breath from the sudden shock of the water. Data gripped her shoulder to support her until she found her footing.
"Are you alright?" Data inquired.
"Fine," she replied.
To his relief, she was laughing.
Tasha wiped the water from her eyes. She dipped her head back into the water so that she could slick her bangs back out of her eyes.
"Help me flip this boat back, eh?" Tasha asked.
----------
"We'll have to hang them over the fire to dry," Tasha said.
Their boots made a tell-tale squish sound with each step on the way back to the village.
Tasha was shivering by now. The temperature was beginning to drop as the sun grew closer to the horizon. It would be dark soon, although the hour wasn't late.
Things always got darker sooner in the Autumn of the year. Data was familiar with the phenomena from his time at the Academy. Tasha had been shocked by it after her first year in San Francisco. Turkana's orbit meant that most of the planet experienced more extreme shifts in its available hours of sunlight.
A Turkanan day was twenty-seven hours long according to Federation standard timekeeping. During the height of the dry season, that meant nearly twenty-five hours of sunlight. In the heart of winter, Turkana faced her darkest days where the sun would barely creep above the horizon for but a few, meagre hours.
As they grew closer to the town, they could hear that the bell above the parish hall was ringing.
Data strained his audio receptors.
Someone was shouting.
Data and Tasha looked at one another.
"Maybe there's a meeting," Tasha suggested.
"Or something has occurred," Data said.
They picked up the pace and hurried up the hill toward the parish hall.
"Don't look now," Tasha whispered. "Your fanbase is back."
Peeking out from behind the corner of the post office were the children.
Someone was shouting for folks to step back and give them some room.
"What has occurred?" Data inquired to one of the villagers.
"Not sure," she replied.
"Fetch the physician!" Oswalt hollered above the crowd.
"No time," another voice called out.
Doctor Clarke, the resident physician, lived in a cottage outside of the village.
Data and Tasha pushed their way through the crowd. They still didn't know what had happened. But it was clear someone needed help.
"Excuse me," Tasha said as she wove through the people. "We have field medical training. Can we help?"
There was a man lying on the ground, unconscious. He appeared to be middle aged and did not show any injuries or wounds.
"What happened?" Tasha asked as she knelt down next to him.
"He's dead," Oswalt informed her.
The man wasn't breathing. Tasha reached under his collar to feel for a pulse. There was nothing.
"Did anyone see what happened?" Tasha inquired.
She checked his mouth and confirmed his airway was clear. Next, she began to immediately administer chest compressions as she counted to herself.
"How long ago did he collapse?" Data demanded. "When was he found?"
Oswalt scratched his chin as he tried to recall the time.
"I don't know for sure," he confessed. "Five maybe six minutes ago?"
Oswalt explained that he hadn't seen him collapse – he'd only heard a noise. He'd come out of the post office to find the man on the ground.
"I called for help. Jaspar and Sator came running," Oswalt explained.
"It has been approximately four minutes since we arrived," said a Vulcan man with an impressive moustache. "Doctor Applewhite was not breathing and had no pulse."
Data blinked. Doctor Applewhite had been the archaeologist they were planning to visit with inquiries about the cave.
"Out of the way!" a man called out as he pushed his way to the front of the crowd.
It was Doctor Clarke toting an emergency medical kit. As Tasha continued to administer chest compressions, Doctor Clarke examined Doctor Applewhite's condition.
After a quick assessment, Doctor Clarke grabbed Tasha's arm to stop her.
"He's gone," Clarke said.
Tasha sat back on her knees as she caught her breath.
Data knew that it would weigh heavily on her.
"We'll have to contact his family outside the preserve," Doctor Clarke said.
"What happened?" Oswalt demanded.
Doctor Clarke shook his head.
"I don't know for certain," the Doctor admitted. "They'll conduct a thorough scan outside of the preserve. But it could have been cardiac arrest or an embolism. There's a number of possibilities but I can't scan for them here."
The technological limits of the historical preserve prevented the use of modern medical tricorders. Individuals travelled outside to the modern world whenever required for advanced medical care and routine scans.
Health emergencies like this were rare.
"But I just saw him – maybe ten minutes before this happened," Oswalt said in disbelief. "He came in to post a letter. Everything seemed fine."
Doctor Clarke sighed as he stood.
"Sometimes there's no warning," Clarke explained. "I did a physical with Doctor Applewhite last week. I ruled he was in perfect health. But sometimes these things just happen."
Data's eyes narrowed as he looked down at the body.
"Pardon me," Data said as he knelt down next to the deceased archaeologist.
"What on Earth are you doing?" Clarke snapped.
Data had lifted Doctor Applewhite's eyelids to examine his eyes. As Data had suspected, the eyes showed signs of petechiae. Applewhite's swollen lips had been the first clue.
Next, Data pulled back the Doctor's collar to discover bruising on his neck.
Data looked up at Tasha and grinned.
"Thank you," Data said.
Tasha blinked.
"You set up a real mystery for me," he went on.
Data gave her a quick peck on the cheek.
"I do not know how you managed to create such a realistic and interactive holoprogramme in an open-air environment, but I am impressed," Data said.
Tasha had said she'd arranged for a series of surprises during the week.
But he hadn't seen such an event coming.
She'd managed to slip it in right under his nose. Data's mind was racing as he thought about the possibilities.
Had he already observed important clues?
Was their trip to the library intended to plant something specific?
Were the children involved?
Tasha shook her head. She could see his brain was going a lightyear a minute.
"Data-" she started.
But Data ignored her.
Turning back to the crowd, he began to pace.
"Fetch the constable," Data ordered. "I believe you will find that this body shows evidence of strangulation."
Data stopped.
"This was no unfortunate medical accident," Data announced dramatically. "Doctor Applewhite was murdered."
A gasp went around the crowd. The villagers were horrified. Crime simply did not occur in the preserve – certainly not murder. To Data, the entire village was full of competent performers. Their shock and grief seemed incredibly genuine. He pondered, briefly, if their style of acting was 'the method' that he had begun to explore.
Data gripped Tasha's shoulders. He looked more excited than he had in ages.
"But not to fear. Sherlock Holmes is on the case," Data declared.
Tasha grimaced.
"Data, this is not the time for Sherlock Holmes. Please," Tasha pleaded.
"But there is a mystery here and solve it we must!" Data said, doing his best to emulate Holmes's confidant attitude.
Tasha felt like she was going to be sick.
Everyone was staring at Data as he launched into a speech rambling on about needing to investigate the archaeologists' business dealings. He asked Oswalt to produce the letter that Applewhite had posted before his death.
"The game is afoot!" Data proclaimed with the wave of his hand.
Tasha knew she had to intervene before the situation spiralled even further out of control.
"Data," Tasha said in a voice loud enough to get his attention.
Data stopped immediately.
Data raised his eyebrows slowly as he observed the frightened crowd. They were all staring at him in disbelief.
For the first time in his life, Data truly did feel like Frankenstein's creature as he watched the crowd eyeing him sceptically.
Data's gaze fell to Tasha. She took hold of his hand to offer her reassurance.
"This isn't one of my surprises," Tasha said darkly.