Author's Note: And now, the conclusion to our holiday arc.
--------
The train ride was all Data could have imagined and more. Seated inside a private compartment, Data and Tasha relaxed back on the plush velvet seats as the train chugged along the tracks.
After a time, the sound became almost rhythmic and served to put Data at ease.
The tracks cut across the preserve – winding through limestone hills, spanning the open moors, and cutting through endless fields of heather.
It was hard for Tasha to keep her eyes open as they rode along. All the layers from her dress were warm and the steady tempo of the train was relaxing. She surmised this is what it must feel like when they put babies in the holotraveller to get them to sleep.
It was a small device that fit over a carrier and offered moving scenes and brown noise. Parents swore by it as a tried-and-true method for putting even the most unruly of children to sleep.
"Hmmm?" Tasha said as she felt Data grasp her hand.
She was resting her head on the wall by the window and had dozed off.
"Sorry," Tasha said as she opened her eyes. "Didn't mean to drift off."
"It is quite alright," Data assured her.
They smiled at one another, holding hands across the open space between them.
"I thought you might be more comfortable over here," Data offered.
He pulled her off the bench across the compartment and Tasha sat down next to him. She curled up by the window and rested her head back against his chest. Data reached around and intertwined his fingers with her own.
"You sure you wouldn't rather draw or read?" she asked.
"I would much rather hold you," Data answered.
--------
When they reached Richmond, the train slowed to a stop. Tasha awoke as the whistle blew. She sat up and stretched, hissing at the discomfort of her dress.
The historical district around the train station was a lovely little area. They only had about three hours to explore before they would need to head back.
Nonetheless, Tasha was keen for the chance to stretch her legs.
From the historical district, they were able to hop a modern shuttle to catch the ruins of Easby Abbey. While many landmarks had been destroyed during the third world war, Easby Abbey was one that had managed to escape the devastation.
Data was fascinated by the 13th-century wall paintings.
"This abbey was founded over one thousand years ago. Somehow it has managed to survive the dissolution of the monasteries, a civil war, and three world wars," Data said in awe.
In some unusual way, Data felt a connection with this building.
As he himself had no known lifespan, Data experienced a sense of camaraderie with something that had existed for long. Unlike all of the other surrounding buildings that would have been built a thousand years earlier, this building had stood the test of time.
It had watched the city grow, standing steadfast while all the other buildings around it came and went as the landscape changed.
Data reached out and ran his hand along the stone wall, touching it and sharing a silent moment of understanding with something so ancient.
"Are you alright?" Tasha asked from a few metres away.
She was standing next to a small ash tree.
Data recognised the species from the arboretum. They had nearly been wiped out by ash dieback centuries earlier.
The abbey ruins had likely seen thousands of trees come and go during their existence.
Data's oral cavity suddenly felt uncomfortably dry.
His gaze shifted from the tree to the wall and back again.
"I would like to return to the historical district now," Data said.
"Sure," Tasha replied.
They climbed back onto the shuttle.
Data took one final look at the ruins as they rode away.
"Penny for your thoughts," Tasha said as she watched him.
Data turned back and cocked his head to the side.
Even though Tasha was sitting next to him, the abbey had left him feeling lonely. It certainly wasn't the first time Data had reflected on his own existence and just how lengthy it would be.
He knew that he would outlive his friends.
He knew that he would outlive Tasha.
But to see it contrasted in such a harsh light had been a painful reminder of his immortality.
Tasha was an ash tree.
In time, just like a tree, she would change from a vibrant sapling to maturity before growing old and eventually dying.
And just like the ruins of the abbey, Data would be there to witness it as part of the lonely watch of an immortal being.
The bitter cycle of life.
"Hey," Tasha said as she tugged on his hand. "Let's stop at that candy shoppe before we get back on the train, eh?"
She had a mischievous sparkle in her eye like she was up to something.
"For the kids, please," she explained with a brilliant smile.
As Data stared at her, he couldn't help but feel fortunate enough that in the grand scheme of his long and lonely existence, she was a tree that happened to be growing in his courtyard.
--------
Hopping off the shuttle, Data spied the main office from the Department of Historic and Environment Preservation.
"Go on," Tasha encouraged as she caught what he was fixated on.
While Tasha stepped in the shoppe to pick up some treats for the children, Data slipped into the office and decided to poke around.
The office provided a number of services including local tours and educational opportunities for the avid enthusiast. There were maps available for purchase and several displays showcasing local archaeological finds.
There was a computer viewscreen on the wall that caught Data's attention.
It was a list of places. At the top of the list was the term "Scheduled Monuments." A few seconds later, the screen changed to display a similar list of places under the title of "Grade I" before changing to a list entitled "Grade II."
Must be a tour schedule. Data theorised.
"Anything I can help you with?" the man behind the reception desk offered.
"I only wish I had more time," Data said as he indicated to the list on the screen. "It would seem your tours are extensive. Are all of these locations included in one tour?"
Data was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the concept. There were many locations - far too extensive a list to visit in one day.
The man's face contorted and he looked at Data, perplexed by his comment.
As Data made to leave, he spied a computer terminal.
He didn't have much time.
But then again, Data didn't require much time to scan and process vast quantities of information.
"Excuse me, what is the purpose of this console?" Data inquired.
"It's information about our work. The Department of Historic and Environmental Preservation. Projects and sites that we maintain, personnel, that sort of thing," the clerk explained.
After requesting permission from the clerk, Data used the terminal to access all available information on Doctor Applewhite.
He still couldn't fathom any reason for murdering the doctor. Unfortunately, Data had relatively little information about the man's personal life.
But he did have access to Doctor Applewhite's previously published works in his information databank and he had information on the historical preserve itself.
As he contemplated where to begin, Data decided it would be best to utilise the old adage to 'follow the money.'
Although every Federation citizen's basic needs were all met at no cost, everything from large projects to personal pursuits required resources. Federation credits, latinum, darseks, bolas, and litas were all widely traded both in and outside of the Federation.
Fortunately, the terminal had details of all the researcher's public accounts for their projects including budgets, projections, and allocation request.
The information was eye-opening, but not in the way Data had initially hoped for.
Doctor Applewhite's projects were relatively inexpensive. He had no outstanding debts or backlog that could have justified a murder. Furthermore, Data was able to rule out jealousy as a motive as well. It seemed none of Applewhite's projects had diverted resources from anyone else.
In fact, most of his work made a modest, yet steady flow of income for the preserve.
Striking out on his first dig, Data decided to look at the preserve as a whole.
Data knew that large projects like the preserve were also eligible to receive resources and support from the Federation itself. However, such resources were highly sought after and carefully distributed.
He speculated that the preserve must rely on a mix of public support from the Federation, private financial backing, and support form like minded educational and research institutes.
To Data's delight, his theory proved to be correct.
Checking the time, Data determined he would have less than eight minutes before they would need to depart for the rail station.
Working quickly, Data learned that the bulk of the private funding for the preserve came from the Culpepper Family Foundation. Data was not surprised by this – they seemed to be heavily invested on a personal level in the project.
However, Data was surprised to learn that the preserve had been haemorrhaging financial assets for more than a decade.
Cross-referencing Federation records, Data discovered that the Federation was considering pulling out their support for the preserve given the loss of resources. In the eyes of the Federation, it was no longer considered a viable project.
Further research determined the Daystrom Institute, Vulcan Science Academy, and an organisation known as the Terran Fellowship Society were all thinking of pulling support unless things turned around at the preserve.
Curiouser and curiouser. Data mused to himself.
He felt like Alice travelling down a rabbit hole of financial information.
Tapping the LCARs screen, Data tried to determine just how and why the preserve was struggling to support itself.
According to the last several years of financial audit, the preserve was burning through dilithium at an alarming rate. The specs of the technology inhibitors that they were powered by a reactor not unlike the one found on modern starships.
It required a dilithium crystal chamber.
However, the reactor appeared to be consuming dilithium crystals at a considerably higher amount than it should have.
Not only was this amount shocking – it was improbable.
Data cocked his head to the side as he ran the calculation.
He frowned.
There was simply no way possible that a reactor could consume that many dilithium crystals – even if there was a malfunction to cause an inefficiency.
Not one mystery. Data thought. But two!
Tasha poked her head in the door.
"Ready?" she asked.
She was sporting two large, brown paper sacks loaded with sweets and few other surprises.
"One moment," Data replied.
He instructed the terminal to provide him with as much of the information about the preserve as possible at maximum speed.
Tasha watched as his eyes flitted back and forth rapidly, attempting to make it through the entire database before they ran out of time.
It took him just under two minutes to finish and there wasn't a second to spare.
Hand in hand, they rushed back to catch the train.
--------
On the way home, Tasha was far more awake than she had been during the start of the trip.
Tea had been an unusual experience. The train offered a dining car and Tasha had been famished by the afternoon.
Data was surprised by how well the staff were able to operate despite the movement of the train. Data had spatial recognition programming and sensitivity buffers to account for such instability. Yet, these staff were able to carry trays of food and beverage with so much as a slip.
"Do you believe they are equally as stable when seated?" Data asked.
"What?" Tasha inquired, not following his train of thought.
"I think it would be wise for Starfleet to begin recruiting helm officers from train waitstaff," Data quipped.
Tasha threw her head back and laughed.
As they waited for food to arrive, Data remarked at the experience.
"It is a shame Geordi will not get to experience this," Data said. "This was the golden age of steam."
Geordi was interested in all sorts of propulsion systems. In particular, ancient sail and steam power had been a particular hobby of his. He enjoyed building replica model ships, trains, and all sorts of miniatures.
The door to the dining car opened and two Klingon women stepped onto the car. While they were exquisitely dressed, they were sporting modern Klingon fashion rather than period costume.
The two Klingon women chose a table on the opposite end of the car.
He didn't want to eavesdrop.
But they sounded aggravated about having to be on the train and that caught Data's ear.
His keen audio sensors permitted him to hear their conversation clearly.
"But why must we travel on this ridiculous human contraption?" one of the Klingons grumbled.
"Because you know the matter-energy transports do not function here," the other replied.
"It had better be worth it," the first Klingon said.
"Would you not consider a shipment of dilithium crystals worth the trip?" the second one asked rhetorically.
Dilithium!
Data's ears perked up, eager to know more.
"He said it has to be tonight, while the village is occupied," the second one explained. "We'll slip out to the estate, retrieve the package, and be back aboard the M'char before tomorrow."
"Well let's hope it's a large enough shipment," the first Klingon hissed. "He said this would be the last one until the resort is up and running."
"Do not worry, B'Etor," the second one assured her sister. "He has always come through. And once our friend across the Neutral Zone makes good on her end the bargain, the House of Duras will be well-positioned to take our rightful place on the high council."
Data's positronic matrix surged.
Someone was selling the dilithium.
"What's on your mind?" Tasha asked as she took a sip of her tea.
"Just studying this car," Data replied.
It wasn't entirely a lie. He didn't want her to worry about him getting caught up in the mystery.
When lunch came it was an eclectic mix of goodies that Tasha suspected was intended to appeal to day-riders heading into the preserve simply for a single day trip and looking to enjoy the commercialised highlights of the historic experience.
She was by no means complaining.
There were thick, spongy crumpets with lemon curd and blackberry jam, candied orange peels, blancmanges moulded into fancy shapes and served in fancy crystal dishes, pickled salmon, cheese, and neat little sandwiches cut into crustless triangles.
Tasha had to laugh at the absurdity of it all – more so given that these hadn't been made from a replicator.
A part of her felt guilty at the amount of food that was likely wasted. It seemed so pointless.
As she nibbled politely at her cucumber sandwich, Data could tell she was feeling bad about something.
"You are bothered by something," Data observed.
"Just thinking about all the food that must be wasted," Tasha commented.
Data took hold of her hand under the table.
"Tasha, I believe for once in your life you are permitted to enjoy something without feeling guilty," Data assured her.
--------
An hour later, Tasha was regretting her choice to enjoy tea as much as she had.
"Ugh," she groaned as she clutched her stomach.
She stretched and tried to get comfortable.
"I can see why all the women in those stories were so ridiculously tiny," she said. "I think if it weren't for this corset keeping me packed in, I might burst."
"I could help you out of it if that would ease your pain," Data offered.
Tasha chuckled and shook her head.
"Somehow I don't think our attendant would appreciate you unlacing my corset in the middle of the trip," Tasha teased.
"Hmm. Suit yourself," Data replied.
"But I will need your help later," she said.
Tasha took hold of his hand and guided it to her waist.
"That is, if you're willing," she added.
Data didn't respond verbally, content to simply squeeze her a little tighter.
As the countryside sped by, Tasha was glad she wasn't sleepy for the ride back. The scenery was breath-taking, and Tasha wished she'd gotten the chance to go for a run. It would be hard to leave tomorrow. While the holodeck could certainly replicate the landscape, it just wasn't the same as being there.
While Tasha contemplated all the various outdoor activities she could enjoy in such a place, Data's thoughts drifted back to the mystery of Doctor Applewhite's death.
He still didn't know how Doctor Applewhite's death related to the stolen dilithium.
Anyone selling the crystals would have to know how to properly handle them – including taking them out of the reactor and packaging them for transport.
It certainly wasn't a skill most historians or archaeologists would possess.
Tapping into the records he'd downloaded, Data set to work scanning through them internally to find anyone in the preserve that would have both the access and know-how to accomplish that task.
--------
The final hour of their journey had been tough. Data found it was difficult to live in the moment when he was capable of counting each second to their departure.
When they pulled into the station, Tasha looked back up at Data.
"I don't want to get off," she confessed.
"I find I am in agreement," he said.
Reluctantly, they disembarked and stepped back out onto the platform at Grenvold Crossing. Doctor Varian, whom they had met earlier in the day, came rushing onto the platform.
He was terrified of missing the train and grumbling about having wasted the day.
"You did not find what you were seeking?" Data inquired.
"No," Varian bemoaned.
"Then the clues were insufficient," Data remarked. "That is unfortunate."
"You don't know the half of it," Varian explained.
Varian pulled on his gloves and sighed.
"Applewhite said it was the find of the century," Varian went on. "I was here to evaluate a parcel of land to begin the process of making it a scheduled monument for preservation."
Data's eyes lit up.
"But as Applewhite left no record, it appears this once in lifetime find has died with him," Varian finished.
"Excuse me, would it be possible to delay the departure of this train?" Data shouted to the attendant. "It is a matter of great importance to a murder investigation."
Data turned to Doctor Varian.
"Come, we must see the constable straightaway!" Data said.
With Doctor Varian in tow, the three of them raced off toward the village.
--------
"Constable?" Data called out as they burst into the local law office. "I have found your killer!"
"But I didn't kill him!" Doctor Varian shouted.
"Not you," Data assured him.
A young, lanky man looked up from behind the desk and blinked a few times.
"The Constable's not here," the man informed them.
Data cocked his head to the side.
He hadn't anticipated this.
It was 'killing the vibe' of his big reveal as Wesley would say.
"They're no' here," he said. "Didn't you know? There's a town meeting. Some big 'to do' about a new tourist attraction."
"To the parish hall!" Data cried as he turned on his heel.
As Data marched toward the parish hall, Tasha caught his arm.
"Data, you know, maybe we should wait until the meeting is finished," Tasha suggested.
She was worried about him suffering another embarrassment in front of everyone. He'd been so disappointed after the last incident. She didn't want him to feel bad for the final leg of their holiday.
"While I understand and appreciate your efforts to spare my feelings, I can assure you that I am perfectly ready to accept the consequences should my theory prove incorrect," Data said.
He was filled with confidence.
When they reached the parish hall, Data pushed open the doors and stepped into the back of the room.
Startled by the loud noise, the meeting temporarily halted, and everyone turned to the back of the hall to see who had interrupted such an important meeting. It seemed the entire village was present. At the front of the room, the parish council was in the midst of an important presentation.
"Forgive the intrusion," Data said. "But I believe I have solved the mystery of Doctor Applewhite's murder."
A collective gasp came from the crowd before a chorus of hushed conversations broke out amongst the audience.
"Order," Jaspar Culpepper said as he pounded his gavel.
"Surely, this can wait," Livinia Culpepper said from one end of the table.
"We are in the middle of a presentation," explained Utte, the Bolian they had met earlier.
"Constable, I believe the killer is in this room," Data said dramatically.
Tasha felt like her face was burning. She was mortified as she watched. There were dozens of pairs of eyes trained on Data, awaiting an explanation for his accusation.
"And it has everything to do with the plans for this new resort," Data said, indicating to the topic of the town meeting.
Utte looked shocked. She clutched her chest and took a series of deep breaths.
"B-but I didn't have anything to do with Doctor Applewhite's death," Utte insisted.
"No, you did not," Data assured her.
Utte sat down in a nearby chair and fanned herself with her hand. Oswalt, who was seated at the end of the table, poured a glass of cool water for Utte to help calm her nerves.
"You cannot just barge in here and begin making wild accusations," Livinia Culpepper said, chastising Data as she went to comfort Utte.
Doctor Varian was confused and frustrated. He had a train to catch and no guarantee that it would wait for him. The parish council members seemed irritated at Data's intrusion. And the villagers' imaginations were now in overdrive as whispered theories erupted like wildfire.
"Look, I'm sure you're programmed to provide some kind of analytical explanation and you're probably very good at it," the Constable said. "But the proper authorities are going to be here in a few days, and they'll see to the matter."
Data shook his head and chuckled in an arrogant manner.
"My good sir, I shall be long gone by then," Data said.
Tasha was about to ask Data to cool it when Data walked up to the front of the room.
"For you see, I have information obtained through observation and deductive reasoning. Information that will prove Doctor Applewhite was murdered to ensure that the plans for this new reserve would proceed without delay!" Data announced to the crowd.
There was no response from anyone.
In fact, if she didn't know better Tasha would say that the villagers looked completely let down by Data's statement.
"We already know about the new resort," one of them said as he scratched his chin. "That's what this whole meeting is for!"
As Livinia Culpepper was quick to point out - a public project hardly seemed like motive for murder.
Tasha had to admit that Ms Culpepper had a point.
In the back of the room, Tasha crossed her arms and waited for Data to continue.
Data began to pace back and forth in front of the table where the parish council were seated, waiting with a mix of anticipation and irritation as Data laid out his theory.
"Doctor Applewhite was a renowned archaeologist with a particular fixation on the area surrounding the area known as Brighton's Pond," Data began.
Data cleared his throat and raised his hand as he continued to outline his hypothesis. He was caught up in the moment, subconsciously emulating the behaviour of the famous detectives he had read about.
"And is it not a fact that Doctor Applewhite secretly contacted you, Doctor Varian?" Data said as he pointed to the Doctor in the back of the room.
Doctor Varian sputtered in disbelief. He'd already adamantly denied having any knowledge of Doctor Applewhite's murder.
Data didn't wait for a response.
"For you see the dearly departed Doctor Applewhite had requested a parcel of land be examined to begin the process of protecting it as a scheduled monument," Data informed the crowd.
It wasn't necessary for Data to explain what a scheduled monument was to the crowd. As he suspected, in a village full of historians, archaeologists, and researchers, they were all familiar with the significance of such a designation.
"According to the late Doctor, he had stumbled across a valuable and previously unexplored archaeological site," Data went on. "A site he dubbed the find of a lifetime."
Now that caught the crowd's attention.
Data paused for a moment, the corner of his lip curling ever so slightly into a smirk.
"A find that our killer wanted buried along with Doctor Applewhite," Data said.
He informed the crowd that such a project was necessary because of the financial losses of the preserve. It needed the revenue from the proposed resort in order to become financially viable and retain the support of their various patrons – including the Federation itself.
According to the reports, timing was of the essence.
"But that isn't news!" one of the villagers protested. "We all know how precarious our position is here."
"That resort is the only thing that's going to keep us going," another one said from the back.
"We've got less than a year to get this project completed," Jaspar Culpepper explained. "Everyone in the village is already aware of our position."
"But are you all aware of the reason why your patrons are considering pulling their support?" Data asked the group.
Tasha scanned the crowd, studying each face carefully to see if anyone had reacted or was displaying suspicious behaviour.
No one seemed phased by this question.
"If we had a better solution for the technology suppressors, don't you think we'd use it?" One of the women asked.
She was, of course, referring to the technology suppressors that were fuelled by the generator that relied on a dilithium chamber.
It seemed the villagers were keenly aware of the preserve's heavy usage of dilithium crystals.
"Once the resort is up and running, we'll be able to afford enough dilithium crystals to keep the preserve intact," Oswalt said.
"You would not need to build a resort were someone not profiting off the illegal sale of your dilithium crystals," Data announced.
Oswalt's face fell.
"That's not possible!" one of the villagers cried out.
A firestorm of protestations broke out. The villagers, reluctant to accept the possibility of deception amongst their ranks, insisted that the problem lay with the aging generator.
"It is not physically possible for your generator to consume as much dilithium as it purportedly has," Data informed them.
The villagers seemed unconvinced.
"I have spent nearly twenty-three years studying and working on such generators," Data informed them. "Someone is stealing your dilithium. That is the only possible explanation."
Some of the villagers were shocked. Others stared at Data in disbelief.
"Our generator is old," Oswalt said. "It's not particularly efficient. But the cost of replacing it is beyond our means. It's astronomical."
There was sincerity in his voice.
And a hint of sadness.
"We don't want to build around the pond, but we recognise it's the best place to attract tourists," Oswalt said glumly. "It's the only thing we've got to offer."
A look of mild surprise crossed Data's face.
"That would be an incorrect assumption," Data said as he cocked his head to the left.
Oswalt grimaced and shook his head, explaining that he'd already looked into replacing the generator and had come up empty.
"I've asked the Daystrom Institute but they-"
Oswalt stopped mid sentence as Data put his hand up.
"Forgive me, I mean it is incorrect to assume that the only thing of value is Brighton's Pond," Data clarified. "Your community offers the rare opportunity to live a historical experience. You have established a thriving community."
Data stopped pacing.
"And for what it is worth, I believe your people are your greatest asset," Data added.
He meant every word.
Data had gotten the opportunity to chat with one of the Federation's most renowned art historians, learn from an expert blacksmith, and discover the joy of beekeeping from a specialist.
There was an immeasurable value to the experience these moments offered.
Data was about to sing the praises of his trip when he suddenly remembered he was in the middle of revealing the identity of Doctor Applewhite's killer.
"Pardon my verbal detour. These are matters we can discuss later," Data apologised.
He spun around to face the crowd.
"And now, the matter of the culprit hiding amongst us," Data said.
Livinia Culpepper rolled her eyes.
She'd had quite enough of Data's antics.
"Jaspar," she said in an angry whisper. "Put a stop to this. It's embarrassing."
For a moment, Jaspar said nothing.
"Let's hear him out," Jaspar said slowly to his sister.
Mr Culpepper turned back and looked at Data.
"We can certainly indulge our guest. After all, there can be no harm in idle gossip," Jaspar said with feigned politeness.
Jaspar eyed Data as if he were sizing him up, evaluating him. Tasha had seen that look before – mostly during sparring. It was as if Jaspar were daring Data to strike, confident that he would deflect anything Data could throw at him.
Thankfully, Data's unflappable nature meant that he did not take the bait.
Instead, Data chose to proceed with a measured approach.
"Thank you," Data replied.
He was about to resume pacing when he thought better of it.
"Now then, someone has been stealing the dilithium crystals the preserve has been allocating. Profiting from them personally whilst the preserve struggles to retain it's support," Data explained. "And the person behind it is someone that would have the knowledge to understand how to hide such a criminal enterprise and the expertise necessary to remove, store, and transport the materials."
Dilithium transportation was a skill in and of itself. Data could think of only a handful of officers on the Enterprise that would have the know-how to accomplish such a feat without raising suspicion.
After combing through the personnel files of the villagers, Data had found exactly zero possible candidates.
And that had led to conclude someone was not who they claimed to be.
Or rather, they had the ability to hide a part of who they were.
"Someone in this room is more than who they appear to be," Data said.
A double life.
Although originating from a child's imagination, young Henry's idea about a double life had stuck with Data. During the train ride Data had theorised that anyone living such a double life would have required the means to do so. It meant they couldn't be one of the researchers working in the village.
No, their roles required hours of labour day in and day out to keep the village running. The farmers, tradespeople, and shopkeepers didn't have the time or means to pull off such a caper.
"The individual responsible would have needed access to the generator, a keen understanding of the preserve's operations, and the ability to contact and travel to the outside world without raising suspicion," Data went on.
Whoever had arranged for the sale of the stolen dilithium would have needed to utilise modern communication methods regularly unnoticed. They couldn't rely on the antiquated form of the written letter like the rest of the village.
"Well any of us can travel outside of the preserve. We're a historical village, not a prison," Jaspar chuckled.
"Correct. But our perpetrator had the means to access such communications and the gravimetric pressure containers necessary for storage and transport," Data countered. "And there is only one such home outside of the preserve that has a close enough proximity to both the village and generator while also affording privacy needed to accomplish such a task."
Data paused for dramatic effect as the crowd waited in anticipation of his denouement.
"The Culpepper estate," Data concluded.
It was the perfect location for such a scheme. The Culpepper home was located just outside the border of the technology prohibitors. It enabled them to have access to modern communications technology necessary for running such a vast foundation and preserve.
"You can't prove anything," Livinia Culpepper snarled.
Her face was red with agitation, her fists clenched under the table.
Contrary to his sister's behaviour, Jaspar Culpepper was the model of composure.
"Well that is certainly an interesting work of imagination, Commander," Jaspar said. "If you don't mind, I believe it's time we get back to our presentation."
Data ignored Jaspar's comment and began to pace again.
"What I could not figure out until this evening was the connection between Doctor Applewhite's untimely demise and the missing dilithium," Data said. "That is, until I deduced the meaning behind a cryptic note on the late Doctor's map in his office."
Data whipped around and leaned over the table in front of Jaspar.
"The same office you were rummaging through after his death," Data accused.
Data's eyes narrowed as he stared coldly at Mr Culpepper.
"Scheduled. DHEC," Data recited slowly.
Jaspar Culpepper broke eye contact with Data, suddenly feeling like he was under the gaze of all the eyes in the room.
"Somehow you learned about Doctor Applewhite's find – I suspect during your extensive survey of the land around the pond," Data said.
Culpepper tugged at his collar.
"Is that why all the survey reports have been delayed?" Utte asked from the end of the table.
For months the Culpepper's had brushed aside her repeated requests for the survey results. It was part of why she had come in person a few days earlier to check out the area for herself.
"Quiet," Livinia insisted.
"Doctor Applewhite knew that such a find would delay the development of the resort. It would mean months of new surveys before construction could begin at a new site," Data explained. "But, as an archaeologist, he knew he had a duty to protect his discovery."
"What have you done?" Oswalt asked as he turned to Jaspar.
For the first time all evening, Jaspar lost his cool.
"I'm trying to preserve our way of life!" Jaspar responded in a heated tone as he slammed his hand down on the table.
Suddenly aware of how his actions may be interpreted, Jaspar cleared his throat and composed himself.
"This is preposterous," Jaspar said. "You have no evidence."
"And you were present the night of the murder," Livinia added, making an accusation of her own. "We've never had a murder in the village. At least, not until you arrived."
She was eager to direct suspicion from her brother and hoped that Data's status as an outsider would help cast doubt on his theory.
"But why would they lie?" a woman said from the back.
It was Bertie and George's mother.
"Barbara's right," Oswalt said, jumping in. "What possible motivation could they have for killing Doctor Applewhite?"
"In any case," a small voice said. "I believe Mr Data possesses the knowledge and skills to have covered any crime. He wouldn't have left any loose ends."
Data turned around to see young Rupert had stepped forward.
"He'd be too clever to get caught," Rupert added with a grin.
"Shut up!" Livinia shouted.
"Or what?" Frankie replied as she stepped out of her seat to defend Rupert.
Livinia scoffed. She had heard enough.
"You would trust the word of this, this thing over us?" Livinia asked the crowd.
The crowd was whispering amongst themselves, eyeing the Culpepper siblings with suspicion.
"He's not a thing," Henry said as he joined his friends. "He's an android."
"And a Starfleet Officer," Rupert added smartly.
Livinia's gaze fixated on young, bespectacled Rupert at the front of the pack.
"I've had just about enough of your attitude!" Livinia said in a menacing voice. "You awkward little nobody!"
"Leave him alone," Bertie said, stepping between Livinia and Rupert.
Despite the tension in the room, Tasha couldn't help but grin at Bertie's sudden change of heart about his classmate.
"Out of my way you little git," Livinia barked. "Or I'll-"
"You'll what?" Bertie and George's mother said as she stepped in next to her oldest son.
Livinia exhaled in frustration as the two women glared at one another.
"Mr Data saved my bakery," the baker said.
"And our children," Oswalt chimed in.
Defeated, Livinia looked around the room. It was clear where the villagers stood on the matter.
"Fine! You don't have to believe me," Livinia announced. "But you still don't have any proof."
"Not yet, but I can detain you for questioning until the authorities arrive," the constable said.
The constable stepped forward and informed Livinia that they would be held under guard until the formal authorities could begin their investigation.
As he explained Livinia's rights to her, Data noticed Jaspar attempting to use the commotion to try and slip away.
Data caught him by the shoulder and turned Jaspar around.
To Tasha's amusement, she saw Data wag his finger at Mr Culpepper before guiding him back to the constable.
"Constable, you will find two Klingons aboard the train to Richmond with a shipment of the stolen dilithium crystals," Data informed him.
Data glanced to the back of the room where Tasha was beaming at him.
--------
Once Jaspar and Livinia had been taken into custody, Oswalt informed the village the meeting would be adjourned. While Jaspar may have destroyed Doctor Applewhite's original map of the find, Data was able to recreate it from memory. The new map would allow Doctor Varian to begin the process to make the area a scheduled monument safe from development.
Doctor Applewhite's discovery was welcome news for the village. At present, the villagers were keen to take any good news they could.
Although the recovered dilithium crystals would help support the generator for another few months, they still weren't out of the woods.
There would be an investigation and trial for the Culpepper siblings. But the preserve would have a long way to go in restoring the good faith of their benefactors.
And Oswalt would have his plate full for the next few weeks serving as interim chair of the preserve's board until a proper election could be held.
With the business of Doctor Applewhite's murder settled, Data and Tasha just had one last matter to attend to.
Tasha approached the circle of kids in the corner of the parish hall.
"That was quite something," Tasha said with a smile. "And quite brave."
Rupert blushed.
Tasha held out the sack.
"What's this?" Henry asked.
"These are you for you lot," she said. "Be good and share them."
The kids opened the sack and a series of giddy noises followed as they dove into a bag of chewing gum, chocolates, liquorice allsorts, toffee, and marzipan.
Tasha tapped Frankie on the shoulder and pulled her aside.
"And this is a peace offering," Tasha said as she handed Frankie a package wrapped in brown paper and twine.
Inside there was a leather pouch. Frankie opened the drawstring and reached inside, fishing out a handful of marbles. Marbles was one of the most popular games in the village.
"These look like the planets in our solar system," she said in awe as she examined the red, swirled pattern on the marble that represented Mars.
"Uh huh," Tasha nodded.
"Whoa," Frankie said as she studied another one.
Her eyes were wide with wonder as she held the marble a few inches from her face, carefully observing the rich blue marble that represented Neptune.
Given Frankie's earlier comment about stargazing with Rupert, Tasha thought it would be a good gift for the girl.
Suddenly, Frankie frowned.
"Why?" she asked.
"Because when I was young, I used to stare at the stars too and dream of what it would be like to be out there," Tasha said. "And because I'm sorry I hurt you."
"I'm the one who should be sorry," Frankie replied. "I didn't mean it."
"You were upset. And that's OK," Tasha assured her. "Friends?"
"Friends," Frankie answered.
There was a second item in the package. Frankie unwrapped it to reveal a gold ribbon.
Frankie eyed it sceptically.
"In Starfleet, gold is the colour that operations officers wear. We're responsible for taking care of everyone," Tasha said. "And it's a reminder."
She tied the ribbon around the end of Frankie's braid.
"That complexity is not a vice," Tasha explained, recalling the wisdom Deanna and others had imparted on her – something that she wished she'd have heard more often in her own youth.
Frankie didn't comprehend.
"What do you mean?" Frankie asked.
"That you can be smart, and strong, and beautiful," Tasha assured her. "You don't have to choose one or the other. You can be all of those things and more."
Frankie picked up the end of her braid and studied the ribbon for a second.
"Thank you," she said.
"Thank you," Tasha replied as she pulled her in for a hug.
While she knew she had to go back to the Enterprise, Tasha knew she was going to miss these kids.
"Nice ribbon," Rupert said, stepping over to Frankie.
"Do you like it?" Frankie asked.
"Do you?" Rupert inquired in response.
Tasha grinned and moved to join Data on the other side of the parish hall where he was wrapping up some business with Oswalt and the other council members.
It was their final night at the farm. Captain Picard would be swinging by the following evening to pick them up. While they had enjoyed meeting the villagers, Tasha didn't want to waste another moment with polite chit chat.
She was ready to get back to the farm and enjoy some time alone.
It was, after all, the entire reason they had come – to escape and have time to be themselves free of responsibility.
When she reached Data, he glanced in her direction while maintaining his conversation with Oswalt. Wordlessly, they both understood it was time to head out.
"We really can't thank you enough," Oswalt said.
"It was no trouble," Data assured him.
"Please. Join us for dinner. My wife makes the most scrumptious-" Oswalt began to say.
"While that is a generous offer, we really must be going," Data replied, cutting him off.
As they said their goodbyes, Tasha felt something brush against her leg.
A second later, the children raced by. Wherever they were headed, they were going in a great hurry.
"Now where's he gone?" Henry grumbled.
"He's got to be hiding close by," Bertie said as he bent down to peek under one of the benches in the parish hall assembly area.
"Georgie ran off with the sack of sweets," Lucy explained.
Tasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"Georgie?" Tasha asked as she looked down.
There was rustle and Georgie's head slid out from under the hem of her skirt. He had a mischievous grin. His chocolate covered fingers were clutching the edge of her skirt.
"Georgie," Tasha said in a polite, but warning tone. "Get out of my dress."
George wiggled out and rolled over. He reached back in and retrieved the sack of candy. Then, to Tasha's disgust, he wiped his fingers and face on the bottom of her skirt.
Data watched with amusement as Tasha merely shook her head and shrugged.
"Thanks," Georgie said shortly before running off to look for a new hiding place.
"Oi," Tasha called after him. "You're supposed to share that!"
Data offered Tasha his arm.
"I believe now would be a good time to plot our escape," Data suggested.
Arm in arm, they bid Oswalt farewell and headed back to the farm.
--------
The sun had set during their time at the parish hall, and it was dark now.
While it hadn't been the evening they'd anticipated, the darkness did offer them the opportunity to do something they'd wanted to do all week.
After a short detour to fetch a blanket and a thermos of tea, Data and Tasha set off for the hill just north of the farmhouse.
Data spread out the blanket and they plopped down to get in some stargazing before the end of their leave.
"Finally," Tasha sighed. "Some time alone."
"We were alone most of the time on the train," Data commented.
"Ah, but it's never enough," Tasha replied.
"No, no it is not," Data agreed.
Data was lying on the blanket. Tasha was situated perpendicular to him, her head resting against his abdomen. Their breath was visible in the crisp night-time air.
The night's sky was lovely. The air was cold, but in Tasha's opinion that made viewing the stars better. And it was certainly an improvement over the view in San Francisco. There was so much light pollution in San Francisco that it made stargazing difficult at times.
And although Data's optical receptors permitted him to filter out such light pollution, even he had to admit it was more beautiful in the solitude of the Dales. Additionally, Data knew that the cold air meant that the view was clearer than the hazy, sometimes muggy summer air.
"Orion," Tasha said as she viewed the brilliant belt of the hunter constellation.
It was one of the few constellations that was visible both from Earth and from Turkana – although it looked different from Turkana. The signature blue-white of the supergiant Rigel showed brilliantly in both skies.
"You know this is quite warm," Tasha commented as she glanced down at her dress.
"Are you now enjoying it?" Data inquired.
"Not really. It's still horribly tight. But it's warm at least," Tasha answered.
There was a short pause.
"Why? Do you like it?" Tasha asked.
"I thought we had already covered this," Data responded.
Tasha smiled to herself.
"It's alright to say you do," she said. "You can admit it."
Data's brow wrinkled.
"As I said earlier, it is fetching if you like it," Data answered.
Tasha sat up and glanced down at him.
"You like it," Tasha said slowly as she walked her fingers up his chest.
Data caught her hand.
"You find it aesthetically pleasing," Tasha teased as she leaned down inches from his face.
"That is, as you would say, a tough call," Data replied.
Tasha laughed and sat back upright.
Data sat up too but did not let go of her hand.
"You look attractive in this manner," Data said. "But I believe you are adorable in suspenders."
"Flatterer," Tasha replied.
"But I like you best in nothing at all," Data whispered.
His breath was warm against her ear. Tasha shivered, but she wasn't sure if it was the weather or his words.
Tasha shifted so that she could face Data and rested her forehead against his.
Before she could say anything, Data spoke.
"Actually, I must retract that statement," he said seriously.
He sat back and frowned.
Tasha shot him a look.
"Oh, let me guess," she mused. "You're going to say something sweet and romantic. Well I'm not as cultured. I think you look right lush in the buff and it's been far too long since-"
Tasha stopped as Data took hold of her chin, gently guiding her to turn her head.
"No," Data said.
Their eyes met and he was staring at her in the way that made her swoon.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Data reached down and clutched the hem of her skirt.
"I just realised that I have never seen you covered in chocolate, and I might like the idea of it," Data said, maintaining a serious demeanour.
Tasha fell back onto the blanket, clutching her side in a fit of laughter.
Plenty of crew members on the Enterprise believed Data was incapable of humour.
But he was far too funny for Tasha to ever believe that – not when he could make her ribs hurt with laughter.
And she was ever so thankful that she got to see this side of him whenever they were together.
"We should head back," Tasha said.
Data stood and offered her his hand.
He pulled her to her feet. Before she could get her footing, Data scooped her up.
"I fail to see what is so humorous," Data said in mock seriousness. "I cannot possibly formulate an accurate opinion until I have studied all available evidence."
"Hmm. What a pity I gave away all the chocolate," Tasha countered. "Guess you'll just have to use your imagination."
"How fortunate we will be back aboard the Enterprise by this time tomorrow," Data retorted.
--------
Their final walk into town was bittersweet. They'd gotten quite used to walking hand-in-hand.
When they reached the top of the hill on the road near the farm, Tasha caught Data looking back for one last look.
Their eyes met as he turned back to the road, and she smiled in understanding.
"Thank you," he said before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.
"I really am sorry we don't have more time," Tasha replied.
"I believe the finite nature of such trips is part of why they are so pleasurable," Data remarked.
Tasha just shook her head, smiling.
He had such a unique way of seeing the beauty in such things that Tasha knew she'd never grow tired of his perspective.
After turning in the key to the farm to Oswalt, Data and Tasha said their goodbyes to Clopper.
When he thought Tasha wasn't looking, Data slipped Clopper two more sugar cubes.
"Good lad," he whispered. "I shall miss you."
Clopper snorted in response while Data pet his neck.
"Come on, horse whisperer," Tasha called back. "We've got a shuttle to catch."
As they rounded the corner of the Postal office, they ran into the children.
"We came to say goodbye," Henry said.
"Well, that was very kind of you," Data replied.
He knelt down and offered to shake Henry's hand.
"Goodbye," Data said.
The group of children giggled.
"We've come to escort you to the edge of the preserve," Rupert explained.
"As much as we would love that, aren't you lot supposed to be in school?" Tasha inquired.
It was mid-afternoon and according to the clock in the town square, the children should still have had an hour or so of class remaining.
They shook their heads, grinning as if they were hiding some kind of secret.
"Early out," Frankie replied.
"We got permission," Lucy added.
"Teacher said we can see you off," Bertie chimed in.
George raced forward and ran smack into Data's leg.
"You're stuck with us," Georgie grinned as he clutched Data's leg.
--------
With an entourage of children in tow, Data and Tasha set out for the field where they would meet Captain Picard. On foot, it was about an hour walk from the village to the edge of the preserve.
True to form, the children had plenty of questions.
"So you're going back to your starship now?" Bertie inquired.
"Yes," Data replied.
"And then onto what planet?" Frankie followed up.
"Well, actually our starship is at McKinley Station in orbit right now," Tasha informed them. "We're going home tonight and then to Starfleet Headquarters tomorrow. We'll leave after that."
"To go where?" Rupert asked.
"The Jaradan sector," Data said. "To meet with an alien species known as the Jarada."
"We haven't learned about them in school," Lucy said.
Data and Tasha exchanged a glance. It certainly wasn't surprising that the Jarada would be a species the children were unfamiliar with.
The Jarada were a notoriously reclusive species. During the last encounter with the Federation, a starship captain had offended them by mispronouncing a word in their extremely complex language. Not only had the Jarada violently slaughtered the Captain and other officers present at the meeting, but they had also killed the entire crew, destroyed the ship, and sent the Captain's head back to Starfleet Headquarters as a warning.
They had been kind enough to include a message that they would permit the Federation to make a second attempt after observing a twenty-year period of silence.
The Jarada were sticklers for protocol and the Federation was leery of causing further offense. Hence, the task of second contact had fallen to the Enterprise.
However, Data and Tasha both understood this was far too much information for the children.
"They are a private species," Data said simply. "They like to stay hidden."
"Maybe you can come back and tell us about them," Frankie suggested. "Sometimes we get to have speakers at school."
Data and Tasha both fell silent.
"You are coming back, right?" Henry asked.
"We would like to," Data began to say.
"But we don't get to come to Earth very often," Tasha finished.
"It would be a very long time," Data added. "You will all likely be grown up and off on your own adventures."
Data felt guilty for saying so as he saw their shoulder's slump. A collective glum feeling fell on the group.
"So we're never going to see you again," Franke said in a miserable voice.
It wasn't a question - it was a statement.
Tasha noticed she was fumbling with the ribbon at the end of her braid.
"Probably not," Tasha replied honestly.
"You mean never ever?" Georgie sniffled.
Tasha knew just how much it hurt when adults promised to come back and then never did. She didn't want to give them false hope.
"It is unlikely," Data said.
He paused.
"But anything is possible," Data added with a sense of hope.
"You know just because we're lightyears away doesn't mean we can't be friends," Tasha said.
"And while it is unlikely that we could physically visit, we could still send you a communication for your school if you would like," Data explained.
He glanced over to Tasha.
She'd arranged the whole trip and knew exactly how to contact Oswalt.
"Could we send you a letter too?" Henry asked.
"How do you get letters in space?" Rupert inquired.
Tasha stopped walking and crouched down to eye level with the kids.
"I tell you what, you talk to your postmaster, and he can help you send a letter," Tasha explained.
"Me dad?" Henry questioned.
Tasha nodded.
"Uh huh," Tasha answered. "He knows where to find us. And you can tell us all about your adventures."
"But promise to stay out of the caves, alright?" Data added.
--------
When they reached the edge of the preserve, Captain Picard's shuttle was just arriving.
The kids stopped and stared in awe as it landed.
"Stay back," Data instructed.
"I thought you said it was a big ship?" Lucy asked, confused by the appearance of the shuttle.
"It doesn't look particularly big," Bertie commented as it landed.
"That's not the ship," Rupert said. "This is just the shuttle that takes them back to the ship."
"Rupert is correct," Data informed them. "This is merely a shuttle. Our ship is in orbit."
"Like the moon?" Frankie questioned.
"Like the moon," Tasha answered.
The shuttle landed in the grass. A moment later the door opened with a hiss and Captain Picard stepped out.
"I wasn't aware of new crew members," he said as he scanned the group.
"Alright, back to town," Tasha ordered. "The lot of you."
Nobody moved.
"Are you in Starfleet too?" Henry asked.
Captain Picard nodded.
"Captain Jean-Luc Picard," he introduced himself.
The children looked at each other, sharing a murmur of excitement.
Data didn't want to spoil their fun, but the children had a long walk back.
"It is time for us to leave," Data announced.
"May we see the ship before you go?" Rupert asked.
Data answered with a firm 'no' at the same time that Captain Picard clapped his hands together and responded with a jovial 'of course.'
'Of course?' Tasha mouthed to the Captain in surprise.
"Why not?" Captain Picard replied as he waved the children aboard.
Data and Tasha blinked at one another. They were both utterly bewildered by the Captain's behaviour. He was usually so uncomfortable around children.
It wasn't that Jean-Luc Picard disliked children. Rather, he had a complex relationship to the idea of children and family. He had sacrificed so much of that in himself in his pursuit of discovery.
He adored his nephew, René. Yet René was a constant reminder of what he had given up to become a Starfleet Captain.
And after spending five days riding, reading, and relaxing, Jean-Luc Picard was in an unusually jolly mood.
Data and Tasha watched with astonishment as Captain Picard showed them around the Bridge of the Calypso. He briefly explained what each of the various stations were and even allowed all of them a chance to sit in his chair.
While the children had learned about starships in school, they had never seen anything like the Calypso in person. It was an amazing experience for them and proved to be just the thing needed to wrap up a glum afternoon.
"Take her in, Lieutenant Frankie," Henry ordered.
"Aye aye, Captain," she replied from the seat at the Helm station.
"Captain, I'm picking up something big!" Lucy called out from the Operations Console.
"Fire the space guns Mr Albert!" Henry ordered.
"Firing the pew pews!" Bertie replied from Tactical.
Bertie, Henry, Lucy, and Frankie were playing on the Bridge, pretending to be Starfleet officers on a mission to a black hole.
Across the way, Rupert was asking Data a series of specific questions about the ship's operations. Data had heard the children playing and looked up with a frown. Tasha caught his eye and shook her head, wordlessly communicating that now was not the time to launch into a lecture correcting the scientific accuracy of their imaginations.
"This sounds familiar," Captain Picard remarked as he watched them playing. "Even if it's not quite how the situation was resolved."
"Oh nooooooo!" Henry said as he stood up in the Captain's chair. "I'm being sucked in by the black hole!"
He fell off the chair with a dramatic slump and proceeded to crawl across the floor of the Bridge slowly, bemoaning his death.
Captain Picard turned around, chuckling.
"Sir?" Tasha asked.
"Forgive me," Picard said. "I fear I must bow to the absurd."
"Oh no! It's got me!" Bertie cried out as he rolled across the floor toward the viewscreen.
"I take it your trip was rather eventful?" Picard asked.
"Let's just say it wasn't quite what we were expecting," Tasha replied with a grin.
"You know they caught two Klingons smuggling dilithium crystals near this area last night," Captain Picard said.
"Really?" Tasha replied, feigning ignorance.
"Seems they were involved in some kind of illegal dilithium buy involving a renowned philanthropist," Picard explained.
He had seen the story break late last night and it was a hot topic for the Federation morning news.
"It would appear the Klingons involved have been suspected of trying to upend the balance of power on the Klingon High Council. It's caused something of an interstellar incident," Picard went on. "Rather embarrassing for the parties involved."
"Huh. You don't say?" Tasha responded.
She was doing her best to pretend this was all news, but it seemed the Captain wasn't quite buying it.
"Indeed," Picard replied.
After a few more minutes, Tasha announced it was really time to go now.
"Where's Georgie?" Bertie asked.
Glancing around the Bridge, it seemed the youngest child had wandered off.
The kids began calling his name, looking under the chairs and behind the various consoles for the boy.
In the far corner of the Bridge, Data spied the sensor on the storage hatch registered red meaning something – or in this case someone – was likely tucked away inside.
Data and Tasha shared a look and then stepped over to open the hatch, revealing Georgie's hiding space.
He looked devastated that they had found him. He'd been hoping to sneak away with them.
"I want to see the big ship," he whispered, bringing his finger up to his mouth to signify they should keep quiet.
"Do you know what we do to stowaways?" Data asked in a serious voice.
Georgie's face fell as he was terrified that he would now be in serious trouble.
His lower lip began to quiver.
Simultaneously, Data and Tasha reached into the hatch and tickled him.
"Stop! Stop! I give up!" Georgie cried after a few seconds.
Data scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder, carrying him off the ship.
With hugs, tears, and promises to write, Captain Picard, Data, and Tasha waved goodbye to the children.
Once the hatch closed, they took up their positions on the Bridge and disembarked to return to McKinley station.
Data checked off the pre-flight controls from Operations while Tasha punched in the coordinates to return to orbit.
"Engage," Captain Picard ordered. "And may I just say something before we all must return to duty and our professional roles?"
Data and Tasha turned around to look at the Captain.
"If the two of you keep this up, you're going to have kids on every planet," Jean-Luc said.
Data and Tasha smirked at one another before turning back to their stations.
"Aye, sir," Data replied.
--------
"You two won't believe what happened," Geordi said.
Data and Tasha had only been back aboard the Enterprise for less than ten minutes when they'd run into Geordi on their way back to Tasha's quarters.
"It's all over Federation news," Geordi went on. "Picked up with a shipment of illegally obtained dilithium crystals."
As they walked along the corridor, Geordi continued to talk quickly.
"According to Worf, this Duras family is a pretty shady bunch," Geordi informed them.
"Interesting," Data replied, his tone indicating anything but interest in the subject.
"I can't believe you guys didn't hear about this!" Geordi exclaimed. "Have you been living under a rock for the last five days?"
"Not exactly," Tasha responded strangely.
They had reached the door to Tasha's quarters.
"Just where did you two jet off to anyways?" Geordi asked.
Neither Data nor Tasha responded.
"You aren't going to tell me, are you?" Geordi said as he put his hands on his hips.
"Goodnight, Geordi," Data replied as Tasha opened the door.
"Hey, don't think you're getting off that easy. We've got a short, informal briefing in Ten Forward before tomorrow. 20:30 hours."
The Command Conference. Tasha remembered.
--------
After unpacking and a quick sonic shower, Data and Tasha had a quiet meal in her quarters. It was nice to be home, even if it had meant leaving behind the solitude of their holiday.
"You seem pensive," Data observed.
She'd been picking at her dinner, pushing her food back and forth absentmindedly with her fork for the last eight minutes.
"Just dreading tomorrow," Tasha answered.
"The Command Conference?" Data inquired.
Tasha nodded and then sighed.
"I am quite looking forward to the day," Data shared. "It is a unique opportunity and an important function of our duty."
"You know that Emerging Threats panel I was telling you about?" Tasha asked.
"I recall you shared disappointment with the content," Data replied.
Tasha sat back in her chair and looked out the window in her quarters.
"You can say that again," she remarked. "I just get this icky feeling like HQ's ignoring the Romulan threat. There's been far too much activity along the Neutral Zone lately. Like they're testing us."
Tasha ran her hand back through her hair and then took a long drink before continuing.
"At the very least, it means they don't take the threat seriously," Tasha began. "And at the worst-"
She trailed off and cocked her head to the side.
"At the worst it's because the Romulans are influencing Starfleet Command," Tasha finished darkly.
Tasha got up from the table and returned her plate to the replicator to be reprocessed.
"And before you ask, no I don't have any proof," she explained. "It's just a hunch."
She sat back down at the table and rested her chin on her fist.
"Do you know Captain Rixx?" Tasha asked seemingly out of nowhere.
"Captain Rixx, Commander of the USS Thomas Paine," Data recited, accessing his neural net to obtain the information. "I have not met him personally, but his service record would indicate he is an exemplary officer."
"He's a good guy," Tasha commented. "Served with Captain Picard on the Stargazer."
Captain Rixx was currently regarded as one of Starfleet's finest Captains. Tasha informed Data that she had met Rixx on several occasions. She'd served under him for a time during her stint with Covert Operations and then later with both Captain Picard and Captain Rixx for various assignments and during support missions with the Atraides before joining the Enterprise.
"For the last six years, Rixx has been the senior command officer along the Neutral Zone," Tasha said. "The Thomas Paine is part of our patrol presence along the border."
"Has something changed?" Data asked.
"I don't know," Tasha replied honestly. "He wants to meet tomorrow at the Command Conference. Privately. Off Starfleet property."
Tasha looked up.
"Don't say anything to anyone, alright?" Tasha requested.
--------
Back in the swing of their roles, Data and Tasha joined the rest of the senior crew for an informal briefing before the Command Conference in the morning.
Commander Riker passed out their scheduled assignments and reminded everyone of the critical role of such a meeting.
While Geordi and Miles would be joining other senior Engineering officers, Doctor Crusher and Deanna would be attending a conference on the psychological effects of long-term space travel.
Captain Picard, Commander Riker, Data, and Tasha would be sitting on the Command Conference itself for a strategic and tactical briefing on Starfleet's defensive and diplomatic goals for the upcoming year.
"Do you think they'll be adding the Klingon-Federation relationship to the agenda after what happened yesterday?" Geordi asked.
Everyone around the table laughed.
Everyone that is, except Worf, Data, and Tasha.
"Oh come on, you have to admit the whole thing is pretty funny," Beverly chided.
"There is nothing amusing about the Duras family attempting to destabilise the Empire," Worf barked.
"I'm with Worf on this one," Tasha said as she pointed her thumb over her shoulder at him, grateful for an excuse to cover why she hadn't laughed.
"I do not understand humour," Data lied.
"I still can't believe how relaxed you two are about this," Riker remarked. "This story is big news."
"I guess it's because we missed it," Tasha shrugged.
Deanna shot her a look.
Tasha excused herself to the bar before Deanna could probe her emotional response any further.
"Welcome back," Guinan said.
"Hey you," Tasha replied. "How was your trip?"
Guinan's face broke into a broad smile.
"Let's just say as much as I like a good adventure, it's going to be a while before I go backpacking across Mongolia again," Guinan quipped. "I might be ready in another hundred years or so."
Tasha laughed.
After a few seconds, her face dropped.
"You are joking, right?" Tasha asked, concerned.
Guinan smirked as she poured Tasha another glass of synthehol.
"Quiet trip then I take it?" Guinan asked.
"Yes, very relaxing," Tasha answered.
"Sure it was," Guinan replied with a knowing look.
She glanced over Tasha's shoulder at the table.
"And did Sherlock over there like the ensemble?" Guinan inquired.
"Yes. Although I think it's going to be awhile before I'm ready to wear something like that again," Tasha said. "Maybe in another hundred years or so."