The Complication

Hope Lies In Dreams

While docked at Starbase 74, Data patches things up with Geordi while Worf and Tasha enjoy a game of Parrises Squares. Everything seems to go according to plan until the Enterprise is hijacked, leaving the crew stranded and Captain Picard and Will Riker alone on the stolen ship.

Data and Tasha get a chance to discuss his feelings on Doctor Soong. Tasha helps Commander Riker come to terms with a loss. And Lore's escape sets into motion a series of events.

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Author's Note: You all are literally the greatest community. I *love* reading your thoughts on these characters, your headcanons, and your theories!

Thank you so much for all of your support on this journey.  

I've extended the evacuation time given the size of the Enterprise. I just have a hard time believing that (unless jumping into escape pods) everyone can simply bail in a matter of two or three minutes.

CW: There's some strong language at the very end.

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Tasha was at the replicator as it materialised a warm cup of coffee.

It was early, not quite 05:00.

The Enterprise was a few hours out from her arrival at Starbase 74 for a computer refit. The crew would have a short, busy morning as they checked in and completed docking procedures.

Once that was complete, they would have the next forty-eight hours for personal leave as a third-party crew from a Federation planet completed the upgrades.

Tasha had been worried about the leave given the way in which the situation with Lore had concluded.

But now that her and Data were back on good terms, she couldn't imagine a better way to spend the next two days.

Data slipped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Mmm. Good morning," Tasha said.

"You are up early," Data commented, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Tasha sighed.

"I have to be at the Security Office in an hour," Tasha informed him.

Tasha would need to complete level one sweep before the ship could dock and that would mean all hands on deck.

Starfleet standard docking protocols dictate that such a sweep be completed before arrival. The caveat was that it could not be completed any sooner than three hours out from arrival.

Decades prior, crafty Security officers would complete their sweeps the day or week before. It wasn't a problem until the USS Wichita had picked up a rare energy-based parasite on route to Starbase 11 shortly before arrival.

Ever since that incident, new rules about the mandated sweeps had been rolled out to all vessels.

Three hours was sufficient time to complete a sweep on most ships.

It was certainly doable for a Galaxy-class vessel – but it was a tremendous undertaking.

Data had his own plate full as Second Officer with overseeing all of the various departments that fell under his purview. There were labs to secure, reports to file, and resupply requisitions that needed attention.

Data was hoping to complete his work quickly as he had big plans.

"What are you going to do after we're finished?" Tasha asked.

"Seeing as how you and I are... mending ," Data settled on. "I believe I owe it to Geordi to do the same."

Tasha turned in his arms and leaned back against the replicator.

"Oh?" she teased. "You're gonna take Geordi in your arms and sweet talk him too?"

She grinned from behind her mug.

"Something like that," Data replied.

He could hear the subtle change of inflection in her voice whenever she teased him, and Data was growing more comfortable throwing it back at her.

Data felt that he needed to spend some time with Geordi to try and patch things up. In addition, Data wanted to be close at hand to oversee the upgrades.

The Bynars were an interesting people and Data had read numerous reports on their work.

"And you?" Data inquired.

"The Maintenance crew challenged the Security Office to a friendly game of Parrises Squares," Tasha explained. "I sort of promised Worf I'd, you know."

She shrugged.

"So I should request that you smile for me now before you come back with fewer teeth?" Data quipped.

Tasha punched his shoulder playfully.

"I'm not going to get hurt," Tasha assured him. "I already told Worf if I'm playing, I'm not blocking opposite him."

Data breathed a sigh of relief at that news.

"You are better free sweep in any case," Data said.

"You really think so?" Tasha asked.

"My statistical analysis is rarely wrong," Data replied.

"Let's hope it's not. I'll never live it down if Frohike beats us," Tasha admitted.

Maintenance had been itching for a rematch against Security for months.

Tasha took a sip of her coffee.

As soon as she was finished, Data took the mug from her hand. He set it behind her on the replicator tray. Then he took hold of Tasha's hand and pulled it to his lips.

"There is a Saurian restaurant on the base. I took the liberty of booking a table, should you wish to join me for dinner?" Data asked.

It was situated on one of the upper pylons and featured a unique view of the Luna-like moon that orbited Tarsus III. It wasn't just the view that had enticed Data.

While Saurian brandy was a popular drink among many Federation peoples, Saurian food had never really caught on.

It meant the Saurian establishment was off the beaten path, tucked away from the main promenade and likely not a spot most of the crew would know about.

"What time?" Tasha asked.

"18:00 hours," Data advised.

"I'll see you then," Tasha promised.

----------

Data was on the Bridge with Commander Riker and Captain Picard.

"We've got you cleared," the Operator at Starbase 74 reported. "You may begin docking procedure."

"Take her in, Mr Crusher," Riker ordered.

Wesley carefully guided the ship forward using the impulse engines as the Enterprise glided into position on the fifth dock.

"Coming into position now, sir," Wesley reported.

"Standby to dock," Data said.

He was monitoring the ship's sensors for the moment when they were aligned with the docking clamps. The indicator lights on his console shifted to green.

Wesley disengaged the impulse engines and allowed the momentum to carry the ship the rest of the way.

"Ready to dock, sir," Data informed the Bridge.

"Engage mooring beams and lock off," Riker commanded.

"Aye, sir," Data acknowledged.

He tapped the appropriate commands and there was a small lurch as the Enterprise came to a halt, now formally attached to the Starbase.

"Docking complete," Data announced.

"Thank you. Well done, all," Picard said.

Captain Picard tapped his combadge and hailed Tasha.

"Are things set on your end, Lieutenant?" Picard inquired.

"Starbase maintenance and Commander Quinteros are approaching at airlock five. Permission to bring them aboard, sir?" Tasha's voice reported.

"Granted," Picard replied. "Please escort our guests to the Bridge."

"Aye, sir," Tasha replied.

----------

Tasha stepped off the lift with Commander Quinteros and two of the Bynars that had come to see to the upgrade.

"Welcome aboard, Commander," Captain Picard greeted them.

"Captain," Quinteros nodded.

"This is my First Officer, Commander Riker, and my Second Officer Lieutenant Commander Data," Captain Picard said, introducing his First and Second Officers as was customary.

"Pleasure to meet you both," Quinteros said as he shook their hands.

The Bynars seemed absolutely enthralled with Data.

"Lieutenant Commander Data-," One Zero said.

"The artificial lifeform-," Zero One finished for them.

"We have been-," One Zero began.

"Most eager-" Zero One continued.

"To meet you," One Zero concluded.

The feeling was mutual.

Data had read extensively about Bynar culture and was keen to interact with a biological lifeform that was, in some ways, closer to his own functioning than any other lifeform in the known universe.

They had an interesting speech pattern given that their thoughts were shared between a binary pair of individuals.

Bynar culture was heavily linked to their main computer system. It provided a neural link between different individuals. All Bynar family units consisted of a linked pair that interacted with one another via a shared neural link.

Centuries of cybernetic enhancement had made their physiology entirely dependent on a series of cybernetic implants in their neurological system.

Data wasn't the only one that had done his research.

The Bynars were fascinated by Data and had studied his construction.

"Capable of sixty-eight trillion-" One Zero said.

"Calculations per second," Zero One finished.

"Most-" One Zero said.

"Intriguing," Zero One remarked.

The Bynars had just completed a computer upgrade on the USS Wellington.

"Your reputation precedes you. I'm very pleased you are going to be improving our system," Picard informed them.

"It is a great pleasure," Zero One nodded.

"To work on such an advanced mobile computer," One Zero acknowledged.

Captain Picard apologised for the Enterprise being delayed in arrival. He explained they ran into a small problem in the Omicron Theta system.

"It means you'll have forty-eight hours, because at the forty-eight-hour mark we have an appointment at Pelleus V we must keep," Picard advised.

The Enterprise was scheduled to pick up a shipment of specialised tissue samples donated by the Mikulaks. The Enterprise had been called in because time was of the essence.

"I thought we'd-" Zero One said.

"Have more time," One Zero concluded.

"I'm sorry. This mission cannot be delayed," Picard apologised.

Their upcoming mission to Pelleus V was critical. Pelleus V was serving as a transfer spot. Another vessel was dropping off the samples. The Enterprise needed to then pick up the samples from Pelleus V and transport them to Nahmi IV in less than a week.

It was a rather long haul and would mean pushing the engines.

But it was believed the samples may hold clues vital to the containment efforts of an outbreak of Correllium fever on that world.

"Perhaps we could postpone this work?" Picard suggested.

There was certainly no rush on the work itself – the Enterprise had only been rushing to Starbase 74 because it was en route, and the upgrade was able to fit between their previous mission and when they were due at their next stop.

The samples wouldn't be available for a few more days and they had calculated their timing down to the minute with a built-in buffer of six hours for engine cool downs.

"Oh no! This is-," Zero One assured them.

"The best time-," One Zero said.

"To do it," Zero One finished.

The Bynars insisted they would be able to complete the work within the time allotted. They seemed overly eager to begin.

"The Bynars work very quickly," Quinteros explained. "It will be tight, but they're a good team."

"Commander Riker and I will remain on board and be available should you need us," Picard notified them.

The Bynars had requested that two crew remain aboard as a matter of protocol in case there were any problems.

"Thank you, Captain. I don't think we'll need you until we're ready for inspection," Quinteros smiled.

With that, Captain Picard dismissed the rest of the Bridge crew and then made a ship-wide announcement declaring that the forty-eight-hour leave had officially commenced.

It was hard for everyone to contain their joy.

Moments like this were rare.

Data and Tasha stepped onto the lift together.

"I think they've got a crush on you," Tasha teased.

Data turned and quirked his eyebrow at her.

"Bynar culture does not-" Data began to say.

"They find you intriguing ," Tasha smirked.

"Because I am," Data replied with his signature deadpan delivery.

"See you tonight," Tasha winked as she stepped off the lift.

----------

Back on the Bridge, Commander Riker and Captain Picard stepped into his Ready Room.

"The Bynars seem perfect for this," Riker said.

"As I understand it, over time they have become so interconnected with the master computer on their planet that their language, their very thought patterns have become as close to binary as it's possible for organic beings," Picard explained.

"It will be interesting to see how they improve a computer as advanced as ours," Riker wondered aloud.

The computer on the Galaxy-class ship was the most advanced in the entire fleet of active Starfleet ships.

It was a technological marvel.

Captain Picard stepped over to the replicator.

"Livingston Food Supplement Two," Picard ordered.

A small dish with several replicated krill and silversides appeared. Captain Picard opened the top of Livingston's tank and dropped them in.

"I have a little work to finish up and then I'm going back to my cabin," Picard said. "I'm going to put my feet up, turn on my personal relaxation lamp, and lose myself in the pages of some old novel."

The Captain returned the dish to the replicator and then turned to Commander Riker.

"What about you, Number One? You've more than earned some rest," Picard asked.

"I've never been very good at organising my time off. But Something will turn up. It always does," Riker replied.

----------

Tasha was seated on the floor of her quarters as she laced up her Parrises Squares cleats. They were specialised shoes designed to help grip the synthetic turf of the field.

Tasha's door chimed.

"Come in!" she called out.

The door slid open to reveal Worf sporting his cross stick in one hand, four bottles of Klingon ale, and a broad smile.

"Today we secure our legacy as champions," he declared.

"Almost ready," Tasha said as she waved him inside.

With her shoes in place, Tasha snagged her body armour off the chair.

She slipped her right hand through the sleeve and secured the clasps around her leg and waist.

In Parrises Squares, players wore body armour on the right side. This side of the body was used for blocking, charging, and checking the opponent.

The left side was protected with just wrist, elbow, and knee pads. This was the stick side or shooting side.

While it may have seemed biased based on each players' individual dominant hand, it was in fact one of the things that made the game interesting. Left- handed shooters and right-handed blockers both had an advantage in their own right.

They were vulnerable to one another, and it balanced the odds.

The door chimed a second time and Tasha hollered for the rest of the team to step in.

Lieutenant Olivet and Ensign Jeffords from the Security Office were joining them.

Olivet had been a part of the Starfleet Academy Parrises Squares team and had won numerous titles in the sport. She was an advanced player and an excellent shot.

She would be filling the position of the forward striker – the primary player responsible for offensive tactics on the field. She would be sticking close to their opponent's territory, ready to make a shot on goal whenever she got the opportunity.

Ensign Jeffords was a sturdy player and packed a formidable physique. He would play opposite Worf as one of the two blocking defenders.

Their purpose was to protect the goal hoops, block the opposing team from encroaching on their territory, and return the ball to the forward striker.

It was a spot that required stamina and the ability to take more than a few heavy blows. One couldn't be afraid of charging after the opponent and height provided a serious advantage.

At 193 centimetres, Jeffords was built for the position.

Worf knew that the opposing team did not have such an advantage. When he had assembled the team, he had carefully chosen their positions with the intention of providing a physiological intimidation by seeing such a pair of beefy defenders.

Tasha would be serving as the team's free sweep. It was a position that required quick reflexes and speed. Partially offensive and partially defensive, the free sweep moved about the entire field assisting the striker and blockers as necessary.

Worf twisted the caps off the ales and passed them around.

"To victory," he announced.

----------

The match was due to start at 10:00 hours. The team headed out into the corridor to catch the lift to the airlock.

On their way, they ran into Commander Riker who was roaming the ship looking for something to do.

"We've been challenged to a friendly game of Parrises Squares by some of the maintenance personnel. Want to join us on the starbase?" Tasha asked.

"You've already got all the players you need," Riker replied.

"We can switch off," Tasha offered.

Games of Parrises Squares were broken into three thirty-minute periods. With penalties, shootouts, stops, and overtime, games could easily last three to four hours.

There was a reason it was considered one of the most exhausting physical sports.

Lieutenant Hawk had been their fifth man relief player – he was a Parrises Squares pro and could easily slip into sub for any position. But he'd take a hard fall earlier after slipping during the security sweep and Doctor Selar had ordered no physical activity for the next seventy-two hours.

"We are in need of a relief player," Worf added, hoping to sell the offer.

"Nah," Riker sighed. "You know if you do that in Parrises Squares you lose the rhythm of the game."

"I can't talk you into coming with us?" Tasha asked.

Riker shook his head.

"No. In any case, I've agreed to stay on the ship in case the Bynars require anything," Riker explained. "But win, all right? I've got a bottle of Risian Massage Oil riding on this game."

Worf quirked an eyebrow at Riker.

"And maybe the massage that goes along with it," Riker admitted.

Tasha shook her head.

Deanna was positively fanatical when it came to Parrises Squares. It wasn't a popular sport on Betazed, but Deanna had been exposed to the sport during her childhood when her family had been stationed at Starbase 21 near the Federation Colony of Lilywhite.

The Lilywhite Hotspurs were a regional favourite and had swept the Alpha Quadrant League in 2321, 2323, and 2341. They had been Intergalactic Cup champions twice in the history of the club.

"Counsellor Troi bet against us?" Worf asked.

"Word is the team from Maintenance has a ringer," Riker advised.

The team stopped walking abruptly. Tasha and Worf glanced at one another.

No one had said anything about this to them.

"Who?" Tasha demanded.

She was running through a mental checklist of any recent crew transfers. None of their latest crew members were anyone that she would consider a ringer. In fact, Lieutenant Olivet was probably the closest thing on the ship to a professional player.

Riker shrugged.

"I don't know. It's all hush hush. They're keeping it close to the chest. But Deanna said he goes by the moniker of the Smiley Shooter," Riker explained. "And from what Deanna's told me about him, I'd have bet on him too."

"Oh?" Tasha asked in disbelief. "Why didn't you?"

Riker grinned.

"Because I always bet on the underdog," Riker said. "Win alright?"

"Rest assured, Commander, we will be victorious at whatever the cost," Worf said stoically.

Commander Riker shook his head laughing.

"Remember it's just a game. I don't want anybody getting hurt, alright? A little friendly competition, that's all," Riker encouraged as the team rounded the corner for the lift.

"If winning is not important then why keep score?" Worf retorted as he passed by Riker.

Tasha hung back as she watched them pass.

"He's pulling your leg," Tasha whispered.

"I hope so, for their sake," Riker replied.

----------

Across the ship, Data had invited Geordi over to his quarters in the hopes of mending their friendship. Data felt guilty for the way he had treated Geordi during their encounter with Lore.

Geordi was his best friend. They had been through dozens of close calls, near-miss disasters, and almost fatal missions. Hell, they had gone to a black hole and back.

In hindsight, Data realised he should not have questioned Geordi's intentions that day.

Geordi had never mistreated him or displayed prejudice against him because of his artificial construction.

But Data also knew an embrace couldn't say the same thing to Geordi as it had to Tasha.

A part of Data was nervous about how to initiate the conversation.

At the same time, Data knew he had to make an effort. Geordi was too important a person in his life to risk losing.

Data's door chimed and he realised it had to be Geordi.

Data steadied himself and went to greet his friend.

When the door slid open, Geordi was waiting on the other side with a package. It was a long, thin box wrapped in bright blue paper with a gold ribbon.

Data cocked his head to the side.

"Hey," Geordi smiled.

"Please, come in," Data said as he stepped aside to allow Geordi to enter.

"Here," Geordi said as he handed Data the package.

Data looked down at the package in Geordi's outstretched hand.

"What is this?" Data inquired.

"Just a little something for you," Geordi said.

Data looked up and Geordi and blinked in bewilderment.

"I do not understand," Data confessed.

Panic struck him as he feared that he had failed to understand the human custom of apologising.

"But it is I who have mistreated you," Data said, attempting to process what was happening.

Data took the package from Geordi and set it on the table.

He stepped over to his workstation and emerged a moment later with a small box of his own wrapped in a unique paper Data had designed earlier that morning.

"I was under the impression it was my responsibility to present what you call the 'peace offering' in this matter," Data said.

Geordi laughed.

"Data, you're my friend and you just went through a pretty rough time. I wanted to do something to cheer you up because that's what best friends do," Geordi explained. "You didn't need to get me anything to apologise."

Sometimes Data was far too thoughtful.

"Data, you never need to apologise for what happened with Lore," Geordi assured him. "You were the victim."

Data was silent.

"You're my best friend and it's gonna take a lot more than Lore could ever do to end that," Geordi said.

"I am unsure what to say," Data confessed.

"Don't say anything! Just open it!" Geordi said as he motioned to where Data's package lay on the table.

Data nodded and picked up the gift.

At Data's suggestion they opened them together.

"Data this is perfect!" Geordi remarked as he pulled the pack of cards from the neatly wrapped package.

Geordi was an avid player of a game called Age of Sail. As of late, he'd been playing with Ensign Sonya Gomez – another fan of the card strategy game.

Data had given him a specialised deck that contained several rare cards Geordi had been searching for. It was an incredibly thoughtful gift. Data had purchased the deck months earlier and had been planning to build it into his own configuration.

However, Data knew Geordi would appreciate it more and he felt that he owed him something significant after what had occurred.

Geordi felt bad accepting it – especially since he didn't feel his own gift came anywhere close by comparison.

"Data, you didn't have to do this," Geordi said.

Data said nothing.

Worried Data had misunderstood, Geordi looked up and saw that Data was staring down at the gift Geordi had given him. It was a new set of paint brushes.

They were nothing fancy – just something from ship's stores.

But to Data they were a symbol of friendship, a friendship that was built on a strong foundation of mutual respect and understanding.

Data's eyes began to water.

"Thank you, Geordi," Data said as he pulled his head up.

Geordi could see the liquid that was beginning to leak out of Data's eyes.

"Data? Data are you crying?" Geordi asked.

Data sniffled in an attempt to suppress the emotional liquid response from leaking out his nose.

"Forgive me," Data said.

"There's nothing to forgive. I just never knew that you could cry," Geordi said in astonishment.

Data nodded.

"That's amazing, Data!" Geordi grinned.

They were tears of joy. Nonetheless, Geordi knew it could be difficult for anyone to show such emotion.

"Say, why don't we try these new brushes out?" Geordi suggested.

----------

Commander Riker stepped onto the Bridge again. If he couldn't find anything else to do, he could hang around and try to learn more about the Bynars.

When he walked off the lift, he was surprised to find there were now four Bynars onboard working at one of the rear terminals. Wesley was there too, watching their work.

"I thought you always operated as binary pairs?" Riker asked as he approached.

"Because of the limited time allotted to us-" Zero One said.

"We needed others," One Zero explained.

"Is there a problem? Anything I can help with?" Riker asked.

"No!" One Zero said quickly.

"No problem," Zero One added.

Riker's brow wrinkled.

They were working at high speed and moving quickly. In their unusual language, they were frantically communicating with one another. If he didn't know any better, Will Riker would say they almost looked panicked.

"What's got you all so excited?" Riker asked.

"The stacking-," One Zero said shortly.

"To reconfigure the computer," Zero One went on.

"To communicate with itself-," One Zero added.

"More efficiently-" Zero One continued.

"And at higher speeds," One Zero finished.

Without another word, they turned back to their work.

"They work so quickly," Wesley commented.

He'd been hanging around the Bridge hoping to learn anything he could. But it was proving difficult given the pace at which the Bynars operated.

"Well, Wes. Have you got the Bridge under control?" Riker asked with an authoritative voice.

Wesley glanced around.

Was Commander Riker being serious?

Wesley knew all Bridge procedures forwards and backwards. While it wasn't standard for an Acting Ensign to be tasked with such a role, they were simply docked at Starbase.

When Wesley turned back, he could see Commander Riker grinning.

"I'm going to stroll the ship," Riker said with a wink.

Two of the Bynars whipped around to catch him before he walked off.

"Why not try-" One Zero said.

"The holodeck?" Zero One suggested.

The Bynars explained that they had completed work on that particular system. The issues caused by the Jaradan probe had been corrected and the system was now updated to avoid future problems caused by the same type of energy wave.

They assured Commander Riker the equipment was ready to be used anytime and seemed quite eager for him to test it.

"Is there any particular feedback you're looking for? What exactly has changed?" Riker asked.

"Enhancement," One Zero announced.

"Nothing more," Zero One assured him.

They said something between themselves quickly in their own binary language before turning back to Commander Riker.

"Would you like to try-" Zero One asked.

"The enhancement?" One Zero inquired.

----------

Commander Riker stopped in front of the arch and scratched his chin.

"Hmmm," he thought aloud.

It had been ages since he'd had time to just hang around on a holodeck for the day. With the holodeck's capabilities, the world was literally at his fingertips.

He wanted to do something to relax. However, it needed to be an activity he could easily extract himself from in the event the Bynars or the ship needed him for any reason.

That meant the more immersive holonovels were off the table. He reasoned it would probably be best to avoid his rock-climbing programme. And he needed something more interactive than fishing.

"Computer, I'd like a place to play some music. A little atmosphere," Riker requested.

"Please specify," the computer responded.

"Jazz," Riker instructed, itching for a chance to play the trombone.

"Era?" the computer asked.

Now there was a question worth considering.

Riker decided to go with his gut – the first thing that popped into his mind.

"Circa 1958," Riker said.

"Location?" the computer inquired.

"Kansas City. No, wait! New Orleans," Riker said, quickly changing his mind. "Bourbon Street, New Orleans. Around two a.m."

Will Riker had a weakness for New Orleans. He loved the food, the people, and most importantly, the music. Any city that could produce the likes of Louis Armstrong, Sidney Bechet, and Jelly Roll Morton was a city due respect.

Tresillo was a rhythmic staple of jazz from that era. And Will Riker had always been drawn to the Afro-Cuban roots that influenced the genre.

"Programme complete. Enter when ready," the computer announced.

Commander Riker shook his hands, giddy with excitement, and stepped through the arch.

----------

When he stepped inside, Will Riker found himself overwhelmed by the atmosphere. The nightclub was just like the places he had visited during his years at Starfleet Academy. There were little tables scattered about with nothing but candles for lighting. They lazy flames flicked and danced slowly, adding to the mood.

There was a neon sign along the wall that glowed with a cool shade of blue made up in the shape of a saxophone.

Front and centre was a small platform that provided a space for live music.

"Now I need someone to play with. A trio. Piano, bass, and drums," Riker instructed. "Oh, and a 'bone for me."

The musicians appeared, having been programmed by the new computer upgrade.

"Now an audience," Riker ordered.

A large crowd appeared, packing the joint.

"Whoa!" Riker panicked. "Too many."

The crowd shrank as around half the patrons disappeared.

It was still a fair number of people. Riker really hadn't been planning on that many.

"I was thinking of something a bit more intimate," Riker instructed.

He just wanted a small crowd. A handful of folks to interact with. Riker loved to take suggestions from the audience but liked it best when playing for just a few friends.

The computer reconfigured the settings and Riker watched as the crowd disappeared before his eyes and was replaced by a lone figure.

It was a single individual – a woman in a red dress.

And Riker had a feeling it spelled trouble.

"Computer, blondes and jazz seldom go together," Riker said, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

He didn't want anyone to get the wrong impression about his time on the holodeck.

The blonde at the bar was replaced by a red head. She smiled and gave him a small wave.

"Great job, computer. But maybe something a little less sultry?" Riker requested.

To his relief, she vanished.

But to his surprise, she was replaced by a brunette in a clingy red dress.

It seemed that the computer had its own plans for Will Riker.

He was about to order the computer to scrap the whole idea, but there was something about the way she was looking at him that stopped him from erasing her.

She got up from the bar and sauntered over to him.

"Tell me you love jazz," she demanded in a soft voice.

She was too close for comfort, inches from his face. The tenor of her voice was captivating.

"I love all kinds of jazz," Riker answered.

"I love all jazz except Dixieland," she said as she traced his collarbone.

"Why not Dixieland?" Riker asked.

He was hoping to stay focused on a safe topic, something to keep things from growing any more intimate than they had.

"Because you can't dance to it," she replied innocently.

She glanced away and then back up at him, holding his gaze and awaiting a response.

"My girl," Riker said.

Surely it couldn't hurt to play along. He could leave anytime things got too intense. But he reasoned a wee bit of flirting could do no harm. After all, she was only a holographic character – even if she did seem like the kind of person he'd dreamt about.

"What's a knockout like you doing in a computer-generated gin joint like this?" Riker asked.

"Waiting for you," she replied.

Riker laughed.

"Oh yes, Will," she said as she rested her hand on his chest. "Waiting a long time for you."

At that moment, Will Riker knew he was in trouble.

"My name is Minuet," she said.

----------

"Alright, so do we know who this Smiley Shooter is?" Ensign Jeffords asked.

"Yeah," Tasha responded. "Che Robertson. Played forward striker for the Caldos Clippers."

"But we have no such member of the crew," Worf said, confused.

"I know, that's what doesn't make any sense," Tasha said as she scratched the back of her neck.

Robertson, the Smiley Shooter, had a record-breaking career playing for the popular team the Caldos Clippers. Robertson had retired nearly fifteen years prior, and Tasha had certainly not seen his name come across her desk on any recent crew rotations.

"If they brought in someone that's not a member of the crew, doesn't that invalidate the match?" Olivet asked.The rules specified that all players needed to come from the crew. While not strictly limited to just Security or Maintenance personnel, they still needed to be members stationed aboard the Enterprise.

It was part of a set of rules that Tasha and Worf had agreed to with Sam Frohike, the head of the Maintenance department. While the match wouldn't be fair, Tasha was still willing to play as long as they could agree the results wouldn't count.

The chance to play with the likes of Robertson was a rare treat.

"In any case, we're about to find out," Tasha said.

They stepped onto the field and dropped their bags along the side-lines.

Tasha glanced around, but most of the opposing team was not yet present. That included their Captain, Lieutenant Sam Frohike, whom Tasha intended to have a word with.

But to Tasha's surprise, Chief O'Brien was standing on the field dressed for action and sporting the red uniforms worn by Maintenance.

"Chief," Tasha said as the team approached him.

"Hey," Miles responded.

"So I gotta ask, Che Robertson?" Tasha inquired eagerly.

Miles shrugged.

"Who?" he inquired.

He'd never heard the name.

"You know. Played forward for the Clippers," Tasha said, hoping to jog his memory. "And allegedly the newest member of your team."

"I don't know anything about that," Miles answered.

Tasha made a face.

"No use denying it. It's all over the ship," Worf said.

Indeed, in the last hour, the information had been hard to contain. Despite Frohike's best efforts to keep their secret under wraps, news had travelled fast that the famed Parrises Squares player was due to make an appearance.

Miles glanced up at the viewing area and startled.

Even as they waited for the match to begin, the area was quickly filling with personnel from both the ship and the starbase.

"I swear. I don't know anything about it. Is he supposed to be some kind of ringer?" Miles asked. "I thought this was just a friendly game!"

There was a hint of frustration in his voice. Miles had been roped into playing.

A little friendly competition. Frohike had called it.

It seemed Miles had underestimated just how intense the rivalry was between the two departments.

Frohike emerged from the corridor and strolled onto the field triumphantly.

"I see you're acquainted with our ringer," Frohike said, beaming as she threw her arm around Miles's shoulder.

What?" Miles and Tasha asked simultaneously.

"The Smiley Shooter," Frohike said proudly. "Gonna be a heckuva match. Still time to back out if you're scared, T."

Tasha and Worf glanced at one another, silently communicating their plan.

"And how did this come about?" Tasha inquired, doing her best to keep a straight face.

"Yes. Where exactly did you discover Shooter here?" Worf questioned.

They had to know.

"Ten Forward," Frohike informed them. "Shooter here tried to play coy, but I knew it was him from the moment I heard Lieutenant La Forge say his name."

She was radiating confidence, eager for a chance to finally claim a win against the seemingly unstoppable Security team.

"I've got to go check in with the rest of the team. I'll leave you to it," Frohike winked before scurrying off to touch base with the rest of her team.

It left Miles standing alone with the Security team who were doing an admirable job of not displaying their glee.

"So, Shooter ?" Tasha choked out.

"I dunno, I was playing darts with Geordi and that bird started hounding me about Geordi calling me Shooter," Miles said in an urgent, hushed voice. "I just wanted her to leave us alone. So I finally said 'aye, sure. Smiley Shooter.' Next thing I know she's asking me if I play Parrises Squares."

Tasha clasped her hand over her mouth to cover her expression and nodded politely to indicate that she was listening.

"I said 'aye, I dabble.' Explained I haven't really played much in the last fifteen years," Miles explained.

Worf reached out and gripped Tasha's forearm to brace himself for letting out a deep, Klingon belly laugh.

"After that she wouldn't leave me alone. Frohike's been on me for the last week, hounding me to join their team. I figured they must have been desperate as I'm dead lousy," Miles shared.

Tasha and Worf fell against one another laughing.

Miles's face fell.

"I'm not that terrible," he said defensively.

"I'm sorry," Tasha said between the laughter.

Her sides hurt. It was all too ridiculous.

Worf composed himself and cleared his throat.

"My apologies, Chief," Worf said. "It was not my intention to laugh at your abilities, merely that humour of this situation."

Miles glanced back up at the viewing area – now packed with personnel and their families eager to see what they believed would be an incredible match.

The viewing area was situated behind a protective force shield that stopped the ball from hitting the crowd.

It was standing room only as they packed in. Such facilities were not intended to accommodate the number of people waiting for a chance to see Smiley Shooter. Overnight, bets on the match had spread like wildfire and plenty of people had prized items, latinum, and credits riding on the outcome.

From the corner, Keiko waved and gave Miles a thumbs up.

Miles waved slowly in response before turning back to Tasha and Worf.

His smile faltered.

The crowd was sure to be disappointed when they found out the real Smiley Shooter, Che Robinson, was not going to make an appearance – not to mention how disappointed Frohike would be when she realised her Smiley Shooter was not one in the same.

"And all these people came to see this Robertson?" he asked.

Tasha and Worf nodded.

"Jaysus," Miles grumbled.

----------

Back aboard the Enterprise, Geordi and Data were in his quarters. Geordi was seated at the table, combing through his new deck of cards for Age of Sail.

Data was standing in front of a canvas, awaiting inspiration.

Geordi had suggested he try out his new brushes to take his mind off things for a while. When Data had shared that he wasn't sure what to paint, Geordi suggested painting something 'from the heart.'

They both knew art could be therapeutic and figured it might be a good way for Data to express himself surrounding the recent discovery of Lore.

"I have decided that I would like to paint an image that symbolises friendship," Data announced.

"That's great, Data!" Geordi responded. "What's it going to be?"

"I have not yet determined that," Data answered.

He was staring intensely at the canvas as he attempted to decide.

Geordi knew that with Data's infinite ability to research and his own creativity, it could be hours before Data settled on anything.

In a way, his brainpower could be a disadvantage at times. Unless something required a timely decision, Data (in theory) had no limit, no deadline.

"There are millions of possible choices," Data explained.

He was able to limit his criteria by a small margin. Data had been working through a phase of painting still-life's and wanted to stick within that style.

"Humans view symbols like the yellow rose, jade plant, and topaz as representative of friendship," Data explained. "For Klingons, the bleeding crown symbolises friendship and trust. It is a flowering plant from which they brew the tea utilised in the Klingon Tea Ceremony."

All were acceptable options with intriguing possibilities.

"Vulcans have long used the infinity symbol to represent friendship," Data went on. "And the people of De'arhoro IX are known for their unique, matching tattoos that symbolise the deep bond of friendship. A pattern is embedded in the skin using a specialised tool that implants a specialised silver and-"

"Zylo eggs," Geordi suddenly suggested.

Data cocked his head to the side for clarification.

"Zylo eggs. When I was kid, my parents were stationed near Halii. They symbolise friendship with Zylo eggs," Geordi explained. "And believe me it's a lot better than the Muskan seed punch."

Data accessed his information database on the Haliian people and all available details about Zylo eggs.

Geordi set his cards down on the table.

"You see there's the egg itself housed by a primary shell that protects it," Geordi described as he held out his hands in front of him to demonstrate. "And then all around that shell is a secondary layer. That's connected to a buffer that encircles the egg and keeps it safe from any impact or damage."

In his files, Data could see the unique shape of the egg.

"It's so that even if there's a chip or a crack on the outside, the egg itself remains undamaged," Geordi went on. "And they've chosen that to symbolise friendship. They say that it represents how superficial damage can't harm what's inside."

Feeling inspired, Data set to work.

He dipped his brush onto his palette and immediately began to work on his Zylo eggs.

----------

Two hours later, Captain Picard set down his book. He needed to stretch his legs.

As much as he enjoyed reading, it was difficult for Jean-Luc to stay still for too long.

"Computer, what is the location of Commander Riker?" Picard requested.

"Commander Riker is on Holodeck Three," the computer responded.

Captain Picard hopped up from his favourite chair and wandered down to the holodeck to check in with Commander Riker. It would be a nice break from the likes of Chekhov.

----------

Inside the holodeck, Will Riker was feeling confused.

He had taken a break from playing in order to chat more with the holographic Minuet.

She was nothing short of captivating.

It was like she knew exactly what to say and do to keep his attention.

And it wasn't just jazz that they discussed. She was interested in his work and from the way she spoke, she shared his passion for exploring the unknown.

Minuet was interested in other cultures and customs. They talked about the thrill of trying new foods, seeing exotic places, and the general curiosity that drove Will Riker's spirit.

He had only known her for two hours.

She was a hologram.

And yet, Will Riker was terrified he was falling in love.

Not falling. A little voice in his head corrected. Fallen.

"Look, I'm going to have to leave for a while to see to my duties," Riker said, making an excuse to go.

Riker knew holodiction was a real problem for some officers. After his experience with Minuet, Riker could see how easy it was to succumb to the holodeck.

Their conversation was positively tantalising – and if he didn't pull away soon, he knew that he'd be rearranging his schedule to come back in his free time.

Will Riker could lose himself here. He recognised that.

"Your work is very important to you. It's who you are," Minuet commented.

Riker nodded sadly.

It was also a convenient excuse whenever he got too attached to something – or someone. It was largely why he and Deanna had an open, but complex, relationship.

"Can we dance once before you leave?" she requested.

"Sure, why not," Riker asked.

The music slowed and she moved in close, resting her head against his chest.

"Where did you learn to dance so well?" Riker asked.

"From you," Minuet replied. "From following your lead. Tell me, Will. Tell me about your work. What enthrals you?"

"Interesting choice of words," Riker noted. "I'm lucky to be here on this ship. The things I've seen, the people I have the opportunity to work with. It's like a dream come true."

"Is that what this is? A dream?" Minuet asked. "Is that what I am?"

There was an unmistakable hint of sadness in her voice.

Riker glanced down, concerned.

He wasn't sure what to say. Holographic characters weren't supposed to be aware of their own existence as holograms. In any case, even if that information were to be exposed, they weren't supposed to be capable of having philosophical discussions on the matter.

However, Riker recalled that Captain Picard had shared he'd experienced a similar situation during his Dixon Hill experience.

"I know that you are a computer-generated image," Riker began to say.

He stopped and changed course based on her reaction, still not fully comprehending why he was worried about hurting a hologram.

Riker couldn't put his finger on it, but she was so very real. Her hands were warm. He could smell her perfume. Even the things she said demonstrated she was more than just some programming.

Riker felt like they had made a genuine connection.

"How far can this relationship go?" Riker asked suddenly. "If I leave and come back will you remember me? Or are you programmed to act this way for anyone that walks in here?"

It was a disturbing thought. He hated to think of someone so lovely being nothing more than a hologram for entertainment.

But isn't that what a holodeck is for? A little voice in his head asked.

"I'm a friendly person, Will. But I'm choosing to spend my time with you in this manner because I want to," Minuet assured him.

"Why are you so intuitive?" Riker mused aloud.

"Maybe I'm the key," Minuet winked.

Riker blinked. He didn't quite follow.

"The key to what?" he inquired.

Minuet flashed him a warm smile.

"The key to your happiness," she answered in a smooth voice.

"How real are you?" Riker asked bluntly.

"I'm as real as you need me to be," Minuet responded before pulling him into a slow kiss.

When they broke apart, Will Riker found himself at a loss for words.

He opened and closed his mouth, utterly flustered.

The arch slid open and Captain Picard stepped inside.

"Astounding," he exclaimed as he surveyed the programme.

"Captain," Riker said quickly as he stepped back from Minuet.

Jean-Luc apologised for intruding. He had no desire to interrupt Commander Riker from what appeared to be a rather intimate moment.

Commander Riker cringed.

A part of Riker was grateful for the Captain's presence as it would prevent him from doing anything inappropriate with a hologram. However, there was another part of him that lamented having to part from her.

"Captain Picard, this is Minuet. Minuet, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard," Riker said, introducing them to one another.

"Enchante! Comme c'est merveilleux de yous your ici," Minuet said as she extended her hand to the Captain.

Captain Picard's eyes lit up at the prospect of getting the opportunity to flex his French skills.

While the universal translator made such language skills unnecessary, Jean-Luc appreciated any chance he got to use them in casual conversation.

"Will was just saying how much he enjoys this assignment. It's a credit to you, Captain," Minuet explained. "For a ship and crew to function well, it always starts with the Captain. You set the tone."

"At the moment, it's you who are setting the tone," Picard remarked.

He paused and glanced around the room appreciatively.

Even the air carried the scent of tobacco, spilled liquor, and the aroma of boiled fish from a fictionalised holographic vendor out on the street filled the air.

"The sophistication of this programme is remarkable," Picard said in astonishment.

"Oui, mon chou," Minuet replied.

----------

By 13:41 hours, Data was making good progress on his painting. Geordi had gone to his quarters and back and was currently sorting his card decks to incorporate the new ships.

With the way Data painted, it would likely be all day before he was remotely satisfied with it. But that was fine by Geordi. He was just glad to see Data was back to himself.

"Commander Data?" Wesley's voice rang out from the computer.

Data paused and set down his paint brush.

"This is Commander Data. Go ahead, please," Data responded.

"I'm getting an indication of possible trouble in Main Engineering, sir," Wesley reported.

Fortunately, Wesley had taken Commander Riker's suggestion to keep watch on the Bridge seriously.

"Can you be more specific?" Data requested.

Data and Geordi exchanged a concerned glance as both of their minds began to theorise what could be the problem.

"I'm afraid not from the Bridge," Wesley replied. "I'm reading a problem with the magnetic containment field which contains the antimatter. Could you come up here? Or would you like me to go to Engineering?"

Geordi frowned.

There shouldn't be any reason for a problem with the magnetic containment field. However, it was possible that with the upgrades underway, the sensors themselves may have been giving a false reading.

"We'll go to Engineering and check it out. Wes, don't disturb the Captain or Commander Riker just yet. It's probably a sensor that's part of the upgrade," Geordi explained.

"But thank you for reporting it. Well don't, Ensign," Data.

They dropped everything and headed for the nearest lift.

----------

"You're not supposed to be working today, Ensign," Geordi said knowingly as he and Data stepped into Main Engineering.

Sonya Gomez was on the floor with a partially assembled ODN coupler strewn about the floor.

"This coupler's been acting up and I figured I'd take a little time and find the problem," Sonya explained.

Geordi shot her a look that said 'we'll talk about this.'

Ever since she had come aboard, Geordi had encouraged Sonya to seek activities outside of work. She struggled with the work/life balance and Geordi could sympathise.

"Why are you guys here?" Sonya asked.

"There seems to be a problem with the antimatter containment field," Geordi answered. "Probably just a sensor."

Data was already at the necessary terminal, interfacing with the system in order to assess the situation.

"I can locate no sensor malfunction," Data reported.

Geordi and Sonya both flew into action.

Geordi got on the main terminal and Sonya rushed over to panel that housed the containment backup override.

"Bridge, this is Main Engineering," Geordi announced. "Are you running any test programmes up there?"

There was a brief pause.

"No," Wesley answered.

"You're sure? The Bynars aren't testing the relays or running a simulation?" Geordi inquired.

It only took Wesley eight seconds to ask and get an answer, but those eight seconds felt like a lifetime.

"No," Wesley reported back a moment later.

"The field is deteriorating," Sonya warned.

Data could see it too from his position and based on the rate of deterioration, they had less than twelve minutes to execute a full evacuation of the ship.

"Contact the Captain immediately. I am initiating Red Alert," Data advised.

"Activate the secondary power core reroute system for containment," Geordi ordered.

Sonya attempted to instigate the emergency stabilisation procedure, but it failed to activate.

There was no answer from the Captain.

"Data, we can't maintain integrity of the containment field," Geordi said urgently.

"Data to Captain," Data tried again. "Data to Commander Riker."

There was no response. None of them could have known that the two were in a holodeck that was sealed to prevent outside communication.

They were running out of time and Data had to act fast. It was possible that if this were some kind of sabotage, both the Captain and Riker may have been incapacitated.

If the antimatter were to be released, the ship would be destroyed.

"Nothing I do is having any effect, Data," Geordi said. "This is not a computer misread or a sensor malfunction."

Data tapped his combadge.

"Data to Bridge. Alert Starbase that our antimatter containment field is failing and that I am enacting General Order 13," Data commanded.

Sonya looked at the warp core and felt her throat go tight.

They were really abandoning the ship.

Data knew what needed to be done. And his chronometer told him there were only eleven minutes and forty-six seconds before the antimatter containment would fail entirely.

"Computer, initiate automated sequence for departure in nine minutes thirty-six seconds," Data ordered. "Set course and speed to put maximum distance between the Enterprise and any inhabited planets."

He turned to Geordi.

"This will require two senior officers," Data advised.

Geordi nodded in understanding.

"Command override for automated departure requires authorisation from two senior officers," the computer announced.

"Authorisation code. Data Kappa-Alpha-4-6-0-1-7-0-4," Data announced.

"Does a second officer concur?" the computer asked.

"I do. Authorisation code. La Forge Theta-2-9-9-7," Geordi added.

"Shouldn't we wait for the Captain?" Wesley radioed.

"There is no time!" Data replied. "Based on all information presently available, this is our only course of action."

Data punched the appropriate command on the centre console to activate a ship wide channel.

"This is Lieutenant Commander Data speaking as acting Captain. Abandon Ship. This is not a drill. All personnel. This is not a drill. I say again, abandon ship," Data announced.

He activated the necessary protocols, and the computer audio began to blare the alert sound that signified for all personnel to abandon the ship.

"Sonya, get out of here!" Geordi ordered.

As one of the ship's resident antimatter experts, she wanted to stay and try to help. Geordi understood that desire, but he knew as Chief Engineer he had a responsibility to get his crew off the vessel.

"But I can help!" Sonya protested.

"You can help by staying alive so you can investigate whatever caused this," Geordi responded.

On Geordi's order, she joined the rest of the crew as they made their way to the airlock terminals and transporters.

Data had previously devised the best course of evacuation for all personnel as part of his job as Second Officer.

It was a plan he had hoped to never have to implement. But now that the moment was upon them, Data was grateful he had been the one to coordinate it.

"Decks two through four to cargo transporters. Decks five through ten, proceed to transporters one, two, three, and four," he commanded. "Decks sixteen through twenty-eight, proceed to transporters five through ten on the aft section."

Across the ship, the Operations team worked at a steady pace to ensure they could beam anyone left aboard onto the starbase.

"Decks twenty-nine through thirty-five, proceed to transporters fifteen through seventeen," Data instructed. "Decks thirty-six through forty-two, please use your nearest escape pod. Starbase will register your signal and pick you up."

There technically wasn't any work scheduled down in the very lowest of decks so it was unlikely anyone would be there. However, Data knew that it was certainly possible that crew or civilians had used the space to walk, hangout, or simply find an empty corner of the ship.

----------

On Starbase 74, Commander Quinteros had received the message and was beginning procedures to assist in the evacuation.

Tasha, Worf, and the rest of the crew from the Parrises Squares game were just on their way out of the locker room.

"It was a good game," Tasha smiled.

"Speak for yourself," Miles replied. "I'm going to be sore for a week!"

All of a sudden, they klaxons signalled Red Alert.

The personnel raced for the Operations Centre.

"What's going on?" Worf demanded as they rushed inside.

"Please," Quinteros requested. "Stand out of the way."

Too many officers in the Command Centre was a recipe for disaster.

"The Enterprise is being evacuated," Beverly informed them.

She had already been present as she was touring the facility with a former colleague.

"Why?" Tasha asked.

"A problem in Engineering," Beverly replied.

She didn't know much about the specifics. She had only walked in a few moments before the rest of them.

Tasha glanced around the room. Neither the Captain, Commander Riker, nor Data was present.

In the chain of command, that put her in charge.

Tasha dropped her Parrises Squares duffle bag on the floor and went to work.

"Worf, get a Security team together. Jeffords, head to the airlock link on the main level and round our people up and make sure we get everyone off. Department heads can help with the count," she said. "Olivet, I want you to stay here and coordinate with Commander Quinteros."

"Where are you going?" Beverly asked as she raced off.

"To help," Tasha shouted as she ran off.

She had an obligation to protect the Captain.

And Data.

"Chief?" Tasha asked as she realised Miles was running behind her.

"Aye!" he huffed. "Right with you."

If there was a problem in Engineering, Miles felt a duty to try and help fix it.

His legs ached from the intense game they had just completed, but Miles kept going.

With all available transporter function being used to pull folks off the ship, there wasn't the capacity to beam anyone onto the Enterprise.

They were heading for the nearest airlock connection before it sealed.

As Tasha rounded the corner, she ran into Wesley Crusher who had himself been running to reach the Operations Centre.

"Lieutenant!" he exclaimed.

Tasha offered him a hand and pulled him up from the floor.

"Data and Geordi are in Engineering," he said, breathless from the run.

"Captain Picard?" Tasha demanded.

Wesley shook his head.

"Can't find him," Wes said.

Tasha knew Captain Picard would never willingly lose contact during an emergency. As she sprinted for the dock, her mind raced with possibilities of sabotage.

Had Lore planted something?

Could this be tied to the incidents Commander Rixx had warned her of?

An assassination attempt on one of the crew disguised as a bigger disaster?

She needed to find the Captain.

----------

"Computer, where are the Captain and Commander Riker?" Data inquired again.

They were having no luck locating them and time was running out.

"Captain Picard and Commander Riker are not aboard the Enterprise," the computer notified them.

"Computer, are there any remaining personnel aboard aside from Commander Data and myself?" Geordi asked, hoping that rephrasing the question would yield a clearer answer.

"All decks empty," the computer responded.

It didn't make sense. The Captain would be the last to leave.

Riker too.

"Computer, what was the last known location of Captain Picard and Commander Riker?" Data tried.

"Deck 11, corridor 114 Baker," the computer answered.

It was possible that in the confusion of the evacuation, Starbase 74 may have simply begun beaming any and all life signs off the ship. Captain Picard and Commander Riker may have been picked up in such a sweep.

"Computer, are there any remaining lifeforms on the ship?" Data asked.

With the Captain and Commander Riker gone, it fell to him to ensure everyone had made it off to safety.

"There are two human life forms on deck 17," the computer advised.

It was where one of the main airlocks was located.

The computer could provide no identification. Neither Tasha nor Miles was wearing their combadges as they had just changed from the game.

"The Captain and Commander Riker?" Geordi suggested.

"Or our saboteurs," Data retorted.

Data and Geordi stepped out into the corridor and sealed the door to Engineering behind them.

They were less than a metre from the lift when the door slid open.

Miles and Tasha ran out – and straight into the unsuspecting Data and Geordi.

Data was unaffected by the impact and caught Miles to steady him. However, the effect of the crash didn't do any favours for Miles's shoulder.

The force with which Tasha exited the lift was enough to send both her and Geordi to the floor.

"Geordi?" Tasha asked.

Before either of them could their bearings, Data scooped Tasha off the floor and offered Geordi his hand.

"Captain Picard? Commander Riker?" Tasha asked as they scrambled onto the lift.

"Deck 17," Data said.

They only had forty-one seconds to get through the airlock before it sealed.

"Data?" Tasha pressed.

"According to the sensors, they are not aboard the ship," Data reported. "They must have been beamed to the starbase."

Miles, who was clutching his side and breathing heavily, shook his head.

"Negative," he informed them.

"There is no time," Data warned.

He felt bad saying it, but it was the truth.

As it was just the four of them in the lift, Data reached over and took hold of Tasha's hand. They were moments away from having their home blow to pieces. And in this case, it didn't seem like there was going to be any last-minute miracle to save things.

Tasha squeezed his hand and they made eye contact for a brief moment before the lift doors opened on deck 17.

"C'mon Chief," Geordi said as he helped Miles off the lift.

Data didn't let go as they raced for the airlock down the corridor.

As soon as they were through, Data tapped his combadge.

"Commander Data to Starbase 74, do you have Captain Picard and Commander Riker?" Data asked.

"This is Commander Quinteros. No. We do not show their signals on base," Quinteros responded.

"We have to go back," Tasha said as she pulled Data toward the airlock.

She looked back at him pleading for him to let her return.

With his free hand, Data looped his arm under her shoulder and pulled her away from the airlock as it sealed.

There wasn't time to go back.

"Quinteros to Data, we're reading that the antimatter containment field aboard the Enterprise has stabilised and is regenerating," Starbase 74 informed them.

"Wait a minute! How is that possible?" Geordi fumed.

"That changes nothing. Captain Picard and Commander Riker must be in trouble, or they'd be here," Tasha said as she struggled against Data.

"Starbase, cancel the departure sequence," Data ordered as he hauled Tasha further back from the airlock.

The airlock was retracting. From their position, they could see that the docking clamps were preparing to release.

"We can't override," Starbase 74 advised.

The Enterprise was not responding to any command directives from the Starbase. They had to release the docking clamps, or the ship would tear apart.

The team watched in horror as the ship cleared the docking bay and proceeded out into open space.

A warp bubble engaged.

In the blink of an eye, the Enterprise vanished.

----------

Back aboard the ship, Captain Picard and Commander Riker had no inkling of what had occurred.

"She's so very different from the images we've experienced on the holodeck previously, isn't she?" Picard remarked as soon as Minuet stepped up to fetch another round of drinks for the table.

"Intuitive. Likes she's plugged into my subconscious," Riker replied. "She already knows what I want her to say before I'm aware of it myself."

"I suppose it's an understandable progression. Computers make decisions based on input. And we humans certainly give off a multitude of subtle signs that communicate our emotions," Picard surmised. "I would wager it's not all that different from Data's programme designed to predict and respond to human behaviour."

A thought struck Riker.

It was a notion he'd been dancing around all afternoon because he didn't want to wrestle with the uncomfortable. Inside, Will Riker was afraid to ask the question because he wasn't sure he wanted to confront the answer.

Was Minuet a sentient artificial lifeform?

"It's uncanny. I could develop feelings for Minuet," Riker confessed. "Same as I would for any person."

Captain Picard smirked, not fully grasping the weight of Riker's feelings.

"Doesn't love always begin that way? With the illusion being more real than the woman?" Picard teased.

"Oh Jean-Luc! Spoken like a true Frenchman," Minuet said as she approached the table.

The way Commander Riker had looked at Minuet upon her return was not lost on Jean-Luc.

"Well, I think I'll be leaving," he announced.

"Oh, don't go," Minuet said brightly. "We haven't danced."

"Two's company and three's a crowd," Picard said as he stood to leave.

"Really, sir. Please stay," Riker said.

Captain Picard didn't want to intrude on Commander Riker's diversion.

"I think I'll leave you to it, Number One," Picard said.

Minuet's hand shot out and gripped the Captain's wrist.

"No!" she said desperately. "You can't leave. Not yet."

"Why, what's the matter?" Picard demanded.

It was like a switch had been flipped inside of Minuet. Her cool demeanour was replaced by a frantic desperation to keep them occupied.

"Arch," Picard ordered.

The arch appeared. Riker and Captain Picard got up from the table.

"Please don't go!" Minuet pleaded.

As soon as the doors to the arch opened the sound of Red Alert could be heard echoing through the abandoned corridors.

Commander Riker stepped over to the arch terminal and accessed the ship's logs.

"Computer, explain Red Alert," Picard inquired.

"Programmed response. Magnetic antimatter containment field had weakened. Failsafe not available. Secondary emergency reroute programme failed to initiate," the computer reported.

"According to the final log, Data issued General Order 13 at 14:02 hours," Riker read aloud from the log.

He glanced back at the Captain.

"We're alone, sir. The Enterprise is on a course for the Bynar homeworld in the Beta Magellan system," Riker advised. "It's almost thirteen hours from Starbase 74 to Bynus."

Picard marched back into the holodeck programme with Commander Riker just a step behind him.

"The Bynars stole this ship and you're a part of it," Picard accused as he pointed at Minuet.

"Yes," she answered simply.

"Why?" Picard demanded.

"I can't tell you that," Minuet said honestly. "I'm sorry. I wish I could."

None of it made any sense. The Bynars were a peaceful people. They had no quarrel with the Federation. Nor did they have any known ties to any Federation enemies. They mostly kept to themselves aside from their willingness to train others in their programming.

"You were designed to keep me here. To distract me," Riker realised.

"I was programmed for that purpose," Minuet informed them. "As you were the two chosen to remain behind, I was constructed to occupy you."

"Chosen?" Riker asked.

He didn't like the sound of that.

"What for? For what purpose have they taken the Enterprise ?" Picard questioned.

"My programming does not contain that information," Minuet said.

Captain Picard let out an exasperated sigh as he put his hands on his hips.

"Come, Number One. We must regain control of our ship," Picard ordered.

"Which is the nearest available Starfleet vessel?" Data requested.

The remaining senior officers were assembled in the conference room of Starbase 74 along with Commander Quinteros and his First Officer.

"The Trieste," Quinteros responded.

"I know the Trieste. Too small, too slow," Data analysed aloud.

It was a Merced-class ship that Data had served on for a time. She was a fine vessel but wasn't designed to catch or match a Galaxy-class ship.

"The Crossbow is not far," Quinteros suggested.

Tasha and Data exchanged a glance. He knew it would be best to let her field that suggestion.

"If the Enterprise has been hijacked, we need to face the fact that any ship sent after her could wind up in a firefight," Tasha explained. "We need something that can match the Enterprise in a fight. Two or three Nebula-class vessels, maybe a Constellation-class with a Nebula escort?"

She snapped her fingers together.

"Do the Klingons have any ships nearby?" Tasha inquired.

A Bird-of-Prey would be able to match the Enterprise for speed and hold her own if things turned ugly.

"Maybe there was a malfunction. Or something from the Jaradan probe that caused this?" Beverly suggested.

"We have to assume hostile intention," Tasha insisted.

"But how can you know that?" Deanna inquired. "What if whatever's caused this has knocked out communications? The last thing we should be doing is sending an armed vessel after the Enterprise."

Tasha wasn't upset with Deanna. She was only doing her job.

"It's procedure," Tasha explained. "And if communications are offline then we have protocols in place to signal that."

Deanna looked confused.

"Three low-level phaser blasts in the opposite direction of the approaching vessel followed by a fourth flash only," Beverly recalled from her Bridge Officer training.

"What if the weapons system has been affected?" Deanna asked. "This seems like a lot to leave to chance."

"There are other ways, Counsellor," Miles chimed in. "Opening and closing the shuttle bay doors in a specified pattern."

"Rerouting the emergency beacon off the main deflector," Geordi added.

Deanna felt utterly out of her element surrounded by all the other officers as they listed off various methods. It was a stark reminder of just how out of place she felt during these situations.

Command procedures had never been her forte and she had never taken the Bridge Officer's exam for that very reason.

But now that Will Riker was stranded on a ship heading to an unknown location and there was nothing she could do to help, Deanna regretted not applying herself more to her Command studies.

As a map of current flight plans was projected holographically in front of them, it snapped Deanna from her thoughts.

"The nearest Galaxy-class ship is the Yamato," Quinteros advised. "And she's sixty-six hours away at maximum warp."

"Commander Quinteros, you have three ships stationed here. We need to take the Melbourne and the Wampanoag," Tasha asserted.

"We're rushing repairs on both vessels, but it will be at least twenty-nine hours before the Melbourne is ready," Quinteros informed the room.

"Maybe we can help?" Geordi suggested as he pointed to himself and Miles.

Data nodded, granting permission for them to join the repair teams.

The two men left to see what they could do to cut down on the repair time.

As the rest of the team continued to pour through the flight plans, Data scanned through the stellar cartography map in an attempt to predict any possible motivation or destination.

"Where are the Bynars?" Data asked suddenly.

Quinteros double-checked his tablet for the current listing of persons on the base.

"They did not report back from the Enterprise," Quinteros said. "In fact, I'm not showing them as having ever evacuated the ship."

Data tapped the small symbol that represented the USS Farragut on the holographic flight plan.

"We must send the Farragut to intercept the Enterprise at Bynar homeworld," Data explained. "They should be able to reach the planet in thirty-one hours."

The Farragut was fast enough that it could scan for the ship and retreat if necessary.

"What makes you think they're taking the vessel there?" Quinteros asked.

He had worked with the Bynars for nearly a year. Their team had been stationed at Starbase 74 and had never caused any concern before. They were an odd, but peaceful people.

"It is the best place to start," Data replied.

----------

As the hours ticked by, the team grew increasingly frustrated by their situation. There had been little Geordi and Miles could do to help speed up the repairs to the Melbourne. Her repairs depended upon the delivery and installation of a new dilithium chamber. It would take at least another day to complete the work and they couldn't begin until the dilithium crystal shipment arrived in the morning.

Worf was restless. He couldn't sit still or focus. He had spent hours with Wesley trying to coordinate a search grid for the Enterprise utilising a system of Starfleet long-range communicator satellites.

Both Deanna and Beverly were worried about the fate of Commander Riker and Captain Picard. And Deanna was still feeling glum about her perceived lack of understanding for Command procedures.

Tasha had assured her that there was nothing wrong with everyone having their own strengths. But it had done little to ease Deanna's mind.

After their last briefing, it was clear – there was nothing they could do until the repairs to the Melbourne were complete or the Farragut reached the Bynar homeworld.

Nothing that is other than wait and worry.

Data had ordered everyone to take a break for the evening. They could come at the problem fresh in the morning. Deanna and Beverly had volunteered to coordinate with Starbase 74 on finding temporary lodging for the crew of the Enterprise. It would take their minds off the situation for a little while.

"This doesn't feel right," Tasha commented as she stared out the window at the passing moon.

Data and Tasha were at the Saurian restaurant. He had insisted on keeping their reservation despite Tasha's protest. It was a beautiful view of the passing moon. But neither of them could shake the feeling of inaction their current predicament afforded.

"You require sustenance," Data replied.

"This is really nice," Tasha said.

Saurian meals weren't simply dinner.

They were an experience.

Data and Tasha were seated on cushions at a traditional Saurian table. The table sat low to the ground and featured an intricately carved pattern around the edges.

In the centre was a large opening where a flat, heated rock sat atop a bed of coals.

Guests cooked a variety of traditional Saurian foods on the stone in front of them. It was an incredible culinary experience and one that Data surmised they would both have enjoyed more were it not for the Enterprise disappearing.

"Do you think I was responsible?" Data asked honestly.

"Responsible? For what happened?" Tasha questioned. "How could you possibly have known?"

Data rocked his head back and forth as he placed another strip of Saurian Amantia Mushroom onto the stone.

"My station is on the Bridge," Data said.

Tasha smiled and scoffed softly.

"You can't be on the Bridge every second, Data," she assured him.

"That is not true. I can," Data said as he turned the mushroom over. "I do not need rest or diversion. I should not have been painting. I was negligent."

Tasha rolled her eyes.

"It's a pointless discussion, Data. You could have been on the Bridge, and it still might have happened," Tasha said.

Data pulled the mushroom off with his Saurian sticks and dipped into one of the various sauces. He was curious to know what mixing the sweet nosh bean sauce with the green pepper sauce would taste like.

"Besides, you do need rest. And you like eating," Tasha grinned as he popped the mushroom in his mouth.

As he began to chew it slowly, analysing the flavour, he caught her eye. The corner of his mouth curved upward ever so slightly.

Tasha figured it would be a good idea to discuss another topic, something to occupy his thoughts and give him a break from thinking about the Enterprise.

"How's it going with the logs?" Tasha asked.

"There are many," Data replied.

"So tell me about Soong," Tasha said.

She pinched a wad of bean sprouts with her Saurian sticks and popped them into her mouth.

"He is-" Data trailed off as he searched for the proper word to describe his creator.

After considerable internal debate, he settled on 'complicated.'

Data had analysed and reanalysed all of the available records. Yet, even after extensive scrutiny, he could not formulate a solid opinion on Doctor Soong.

In many ways, Soong was a contradiction.

His creativity and compulsion for learning were not in dispute. Nor was his natural curiosity for the world around him.

Yet he spent most of his life avoiding the world. He was recluse, paranoid of being discovered, distrusting of organised governments and institutions, and sceptical of Starfleet.

Soong was constantly pushing the boundaries of science, always reaching for the latest gadget or method. And if he couldn't find one, then he invented it. He was known to abandon years, sometimes decades, of work on a whim to chase something newer or better.

At the same time, he eschewed modernity, rejected contemporary art and literature, and clung to nostalgia.

Data surmised some of Soongs tendencies may explain his own eclectic blend of hobbies and interests.

"Are you going to change your personnel records? You know, take his name?" Tasha wondered.

"I am undecided at this time," Data responded.

He wasn't sure yet if he wanted to embrace his Soong heritage.

Data realised that his unique nature left him in an advantageous position. He could certainly adopt Soong's history as his own or reject it. After all, he had no true memories of the man nor their time together.

His only connection was a dangerous android that was now free and one isolinear chip worth of logs.

Data wasn't sure if he wanted to be 'Data Soong.'

"I believe what I remain most fascinated by is this 'Shinebug'," Data confessed.

He did not know who she was nor were there many clues available to point to her real identity.

"It seems she had a significant impact on Soong's life and work," Data explained.

From what he read, Shinebug was artistic – blending both art and science in a manner that rivalled Data's passion for both subjects.

Data knew from the logs that she and Soong shared a garden and a home. And he seemed genuinely fond of her presence. A number of Soong's logs documented times that Shinebug and Data spent together in that garden, singing together, and studying art.

More than anything, Data lamented the memories he could not activate because he had hunch that she was responsible for his love of botany and music.

He wanted to believe that she was a maternal influence during his early years. He wondered if she had ever seen him in that way – as a son.

Data wanted to think that he had been loved as a child would be.

Perhaps it was a natural desire to believe his personality was more than just programming. Or maybe it was a residual memory that he just couldn't pinpoint.

Either way, Data felt a sense of loss that he could not remember Soong's Shinebug.

"I like it," Tasha said as she took a sip of her tea.

Data cocked his head to the side. He didn't follow.

"Shinebug," Tasha clarified. "It's sweet. And she sounds sweet."

Tasha sat back and looked out the window with a smile.

"Shinebug," she repeated absentmindedly.

"Lampryidae are a light-emitting insect of the beetle order," Data explained. "There are over seven thousand known species in the universe found on hundreds of planets."

Data's exobiology degree wasn't for nothing.

"Shinebug is a human term typically associated with the people of Mavala VI," Data explained. "But they are known by many names including lightning bug, fireflies, or glow flies. Betazoids call them Szurrix which translates to 'glimmers at twilight'."

Tasha threw a handful of cabbage-like vegetables onto the stone to cook.

"We had them on Turkana, you know?" she said wistfully.

Data was always fascinated whenever she would share information about Turkanan wildlife as it was so rarely studied.

"They always marked the end of humid season storms," she explained as she poked at the food on the stone. "You could sit alone at night in the swamps, and you'd see one spark. And then another. And then after a few more seconds just dozens of them, everywhere."

Data listened with rapt attention as she described the scene.

"And for a little while you could forget about all the other scary things that were out there," Tasha described.

She explained to Data that there were about four good weeks of weather after the Storm Moon. Time on Turkana was always dictated by the moon – thirteen full moons a year except for a special astrological event which occurred every twenty-three years known as the 'Black Moon' when the planet went an entire month with no full moon.

"You see they disappear during the Storm Moon. They hide in the trees and underground. During which time they plant their larvae for the next season. And then they re-emerge after the Storm Moon and mark the start of the Wildflower Moon," Tasha went on.

She pulled the food off the stone and dropped it onto her plate.

"It's the time of year when it's still warm out during the day, but it starts to get cool enough to sleep comfortably at night," Tasha said. "Then we get late year storms. Not so much rain, mostly wind and then the cold months, and they all die."

Data understood. Such a pattern of life was common for many insects.

On Turkana, the coldest month was known as the Long Night Moon. There was little sunshine, miniscule amounts of precipitation, and a time when predators were especially dangerous.

"But then at the Hunger Moon they start to emerge again. It's the late part of the cold season. Still too cold for most of them," Tasha continued. "At first there's just a few and then a few more. And slowly, over the next few days you'd see more and more of them. That's how we knew it was okay to start planting again."

"The start of a new season," Data commented.

"Yeah, they always heralded in the First Seed," Tasha said.

She laughed to herself, amused by something.

"What is it?" Data asked.

"Do you remember me telling you about Seridia?" Tasha asked.

Data had long ago given up on attempting to explain that he could remember every conversation they had ever had and instead accepted that it was just a common human phrase.

"In the old Turkanan religion, Seridia was regarded as the goddess of the Sun," Data recalled.

"Mmm hmm," Tasha nodded as she swallowed a mouthful of food. "And she's got two children-"

"One named Rorik that brings storms and thunder and another, Sela, that was said to bring sunshine and warm winds," Data finished for her.

Tasha's face broke out in a smile. She couldn't explain it, but it had always made her feel good that Data had never judged her homeworld. He found everything about it fascinating – including the kind of antiquated belief systems that most modern peoples had given up.

"According to Turkana legend, the two siblings were constantly at war with one another and that was how they explained the seasons," Tasha said. "The fireflies were supposed to be a sign that Sela had been victorious over Rorik."

It sounded ridiculous when she said it aloud, but it was a story she had taken comfort in as a child.

"It was her way of lighting up the night for her people after the long dark skies from the storms," Tasha said strangely as she reflected on her own memories.

"Light in the darkness," Data commented as he reached across the table to take hold of her hand.

"Yeah, something like that," Tasha replied.

"What is the Turkanan word for firefly?" Data inquired.

"Tuulia," Tasha answered.

Data's eyes lit up as he added the word to his growing database of Turkanan words and customs.

"It means hope," Tasha explained. "But I think I like Shinebug better."

----------

At 03:18 hours, Captain Picard and Commander Riker were finally able to gain access to the Bridge as the Enterprise came into orbit around the Bynar homeworld.

They had spent hours attempting to extract information from Minuet, but she hadn't been able to provide them with much.

Oddly enough, she had told them both that they would be back to see her again.

As soon as the stepped on to the Bridge, Captain Picard and Commander Riker found the four Bynars collapsed on the floor.

Commander Riker went to the Operations console to try and send out a communication.

Captain Picard knelt down next to the Bynars to see if he could learn anything.

"What has happened here? Why did you steal my ship?" Picard asked.

"Please try to-" Zero one gasped.

"Help us," One Zero said before losing consciousness.

"We're in planetary orbit, sir," Riker advised. "Communications remain locked. How are they?"

Captain Picard tried to feel for a pulse but wasn't sure if they had a pulse to begin with.

"They appear dead, but I can't be sure," Picard reported.

The main computer was largely offline, but some sensor function remained. From what they could see, it appeared that all of the equipment on the Bynar homeworld was inert. They could neither send nor receive messages.

"All those people down there who are totally dependent on their computer," Picard said in astonishment. "I wonder, are they still functioning?"

"Probably dead like these. Or dying," Riker responded.

Captain Picard swiped through the computer terminal from the Tactical position to see what information he could gather. They still had no explanation for why the Bynars would steal the Enterprise .

"Perhaps there was some kind of disaster?" Riker suggested.

"They went to an awful lot of trouble to clear computer space on the ship," Picard remarked as he read through a list of dumped and deleted files.

Riker understood where the Captain was heading with that train of thought.

He clicked in to see if there had been any information that was stored.

"Captain, it's enormous. Every byte of free space on the computer has been filled. They must have made a core-dump from their world to our computer," Riker theorised. "But I can't get in."

No matter what he tried, it seemed the information remained inaccessible.

"Wish they'd left us a key," Picard grumbled.

Riker sat up straight in his chair.

"Maybe they did," he said strangely.

----------

"How do I save them?" Riker asked as he rushed into the holodeck.

"A star in the Bynar system went supernova and the electromagnetic pulse from the explosion was going to knock out their main computer," Minuet began.

She explained that their only choice was to transfer all of the stored information and shut it down until after the shockwave passed. The Bynar had then planned for a small team to reactivate their system and transfer the information back to the main computer once the danger had passed.

"The Enterprise was the only mobile computer large enough to handle all of the information," Minuet informed him.

Riker could accept that answer, but there was something that still didn't add up.

"But why are they all dead or dying? What went wrong?" Riker questioned.

"The star went supernova before it was expected to and then you were late arriving at Starbase 74," Minuet said.

Riker threw his head back and closed his eyes.

Their delay with Crystalline Entity had held up the Bynars plan.

"Why didn't they say something?" Riker asked desperately.

He felt overcome with anguish at the thought that they were responsible for killing an entire planet of peaceful, intelligent people who had only acted out of self-preservation.

"This was not your fault, Will," Minuet said as she got up from the table.

She snaked her arms around him, rubbing his back in a soothing manner.

"Are you programmed to comfort me too?" Riker asked bitterly.

"No, but you seemed to need it and I don't think you should blame yourself," Minuet said. "You're a good man, William Riker."

Riker relaxed a little in her embrace.

"I just wish there was something I could do to help," he lamented.

"You could return the information stored on the Enterprise's computer back to the one on their homeworld," Minuet suggested.

Riker grinned and gave her a squeeze.

She knew exactly what he needed, and Minuet did not fail to deliver.

"It's a six-digit key code. They said it would be in front of you," Minuet instructed. "Will, please hurry. They're dying."

"Oh you are something else," Riker said fondly as he brushed the top of her head with a kiss.

"I wish we had time for one more dance," Minuet said suddenly.

Will loosened his grip and looked down at her beaming.

"I have to go save the world," he teased.

"I know," Minuet said in a strange voice.

She locked eyes with Will. There was a sense of longing in her expression.

"You know it could have been anyone depending on who chose to stay," Minuet shared. "But I'm glad it was you."

Her feelings were genuine.

And the emotion wasn't just sincere – it was mutual.

Riker knew he needed to go, but he couldn't bring himself to leave.

"I was programmed to understand you, Will. Probably in a way that no one else has or will," Minuet said. "I know you're a good man, Will Riker."

She paused and took a slow breath.

"And I'm so glad it was you," she repeated before capturing his lips.

As much as he wanted to stay in that moment in her arms, Will knew he had a responsibility to help the Bynars.

"Go," Minuet urged him, taking hold of his hand. "Please, save them."

Riker turned and was about to rush off when he realised they were still holding hands.

He glanced back at Minuet.

"Save the last dance for me?" he asked with a grin.

"You've got it," Minuet said.

Riker pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand.

"Goodbye, Will," Minuet said as he left.

----------

When he reached the Bridge, Will Riker felt electrified.

"It's a six-digit key code, sir," Riker reported. "It's somewhere here."

Captain Picard began scanning through the information transfer to see if there was anything labelled with a key code for access.

Commander Riker searched around the Bynars to see if they had left anything in their work area.

After several minutes of intense searching they had come up empty handed.

"Dammit," Picard barked.

"They said it would be right in front of us," Riker explained.

Picard sighed and looked around the Bridge.

"I don't see anything that could possibly be a six-digit access code," Picard said. "All that work on the holodeck programme and yet they hide a simple code."

A lightbulb went off in Riker's head.

Maybe I'm the key. Minuet had said.

"Maybe not just a metaphorical key," Riker said aloud.

"What?" Picard asked.

"Minuet," Riker announced.

He turned to the terminal and input her name as the code.

All of sudden, everything went dark as all systems shut down.

A second later, the terminals on the Bridge lit up and came to life as the Enterprise computer initiated a pre-programmed reboot and information dump into the Bynars home computer.

The entire transfer process had been automated earlier by the Bynars in the event that they were not conscious when they reached the planet.

Their careful preparation had paid off.

"The transfer is underway," Picard reported as he watched the process from his terminal.

"Sir, it looks like the main computer on their homeworld has been activated and is receiving," Riker said with a smile.

----------

"Tasha, wake up," Data whispered.

"Mmm?" Tasha asked as she rolled over onto her back but did not open her eyes.

"Tasha, please," Data said as he gently stirred her.

She mumbled something in protest and snuggled further down under the blanket.

"Tasha, the Enterprise is back," Data said.

Tasha startled and sat up. She looked around as her eyes adjusted to the dark before settling on Data.

"What?" she asked in a hazy voice.

"The Enterprise dropped out of warp twenty minutes ago and radioed that it will be arriving shortly," Data explained.

"What time is it?" Tasha asked.

"04:21," Data replied.

It had been twenty-eight hours since they had watched the Enterprise pull out of spacedock and then disappear.

Their search pattern had yielded no signs of the vessel. The USS Farragut that had been dispatched to the Bynar homeworld wasn't due to arrive there for another two hours.

Tasha opened her mouth, but Data spoke first.

"The Captain and Commander Riker are fine," Data said, anticipating her question.

Data had been paged by Commander Quinteros a few minutes earlier.

"What happened?" Tasha asked as she threw her arm up and stretched.

"That is a rather long story," Data replied.

Tasha nodded in understanding and yawned.

It was early, but she was far too excited to sleep. For the last day and half they had had no knowledge of the ship that was their home – not knowing if had been hijacked or destroyed.

Tasha got up on her knees to look out the window above the bed in their temporary quarters.

From their window, Data and Tasha watched as the ship appeared above and glided into the dock, the shadow of the passing ship momentarily darkening the external lights from the pylons above.

Tasha turned toward Data and rested her head against his chest.

"We are going to get to go home," Data commented.

"Yeah, we are," she smiled against his chest.

----------

Eight hours later, the Enterprise was on route to her time-sensitive mission to transport the tissue samples to Nahmi IV in hopes of suppressing an outbreak of Corellium fever.

No one had been hurt and the Bynars had achieved their objective.

There would be a hearing but Captain Picard suspected that Starfleet would only issue a reprimand for the incident.

The unique nature of the Bynars physiology meant that they had been only capable of predicting two outcomes had they chosen to make a request for help instead – yes or no.

Given what was at stake, the Bynars were too afraid to take that risk. And they certainly couldn't chance tipping anyone off to their plan.

Data and Tasha were just grateful that it had all turned out for the best – and that the Bynars hadn't resorted to their backup plan which had entailed abducting Data to use his brain.

Interestingly enough, while that would have been easier than stealing an entire ship, the Bynars had been reluctant to do so given that they viewed Data as a sentient lifeform and had no wish to harm him.

It made Data feel good to know an entire people that had never met him considered him to be a person.

----------

At least no one was hurt.

That was the line Will Riker had heard over and over again the last few hours.

Only someone had been hurt.

He'd been wrestling internally ever since their return trip from the Bynar homeworld. Will Riker had been in and out of the holodeck dozens of times attempting variations on the programme.

There was nothing he could do.

Minuet was gone.

The sting of walking into that programme and seeing a beautiful brunette at the bar that wasn't her would be something he would always carry.

He had been so thrilled that it had all worked out that as soon as things were set with the Captain, he had raced back down to share the joy of that moment with her.

Even the Bynars had been unable to extract or replicate her programming.

After spending hours attempting to find her and popping off at poor Reg Barclay, Riker realised that he had been working his way through the stages of grief – the denial that she was gone, the bitter anger at the injustice of it all, the bargaining in an effort that some force in the universe would return her presence.

She had been a beautiful, captivating woman.

Based on their final conversation, Will suspected she knew that it would be the end of her existence.

But was it existence? He asked himself.

He was confused and depressed and didn't know where to even begin with processing all of it.

But he understood that he mourned her loss.

And he knew there was probably only one person on the ship that would understand.

----------

"Commander," Tasha said in surprise as she opened her door to find Will Riker on the other side.

"May I come in?" he asked.

He looked worse than Tasha had ever recalled seeing him.

She stepped aside and ushered him in. Data had gone back to his quarters to finish painting with Geordi, and Tasha had just been working on some reports.

She asked if she could get him anything from the replicator, but Will assured her he was fine.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you look awful," Tasha said.

Two days with little sleep and the emotional toll of losing Minuet was beginning to show.

"May I ask you a personal question?" Riker inquired.

Tasha wasn't sure what was going on, but she could see he was troubled.

"Yeah, what's up?" Tasha asked.

"When you first started to have feelings for Data, how did you know?" Riker questioned.

It was a question he'd wondered about for some time. But now the reasons were far more personal.

"I mean, I know Data is a person. But sometimes I still remember he's a machine and I just don't see him in the same way you do," Riker said.

He was struggling to articulate his question.

"Gods, I'm mucking this up," Riker acknowledged.

"It's fine," Tasha assured him. "Take your time."

"I guess I'm just wondering if you can talk to me about it," Riker said. "You love someone that is not human. That's not biological. And where does that line exist?"

Will Riker felt like he'd been thrown for a loop.

He didn't want to share it with the rest of the crew – someday he knew he would be ready to talk about it with Deanna.

But for the moment, he needed to work through some things first.

"Who is this person?" Tasha asked knowingly.

She knew him well enough to read into the questions that he was asking these questions with someone particular in mind.

Riker glanced over to the window and sighed. He closed his eyes and then turned back to her.

"Her name is Minuet," Riker shared.

He scratched at his chin and mumbled something.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," Tasha said.

"I said she's a hologram," Riker confessed quickly.

When Tasha didn't say anything, Riker felt like a fool.

"She's not just a hologram, alright?" Riker said defensively.

"Okay," Tasha replied.

From her expression, he could now see that she was not judging him.

"What happened?" Tasha asked.

Riker spilled all of it – the way they clicked, how her mannerisms and laughter had enticed him, their mutual appreciation for jazz and good bourbon, and the unshakeable feeling that she was so much more than just a holodeck programme.

"She was aware, Tasha," Riker went on. "She knew she was a hologram. She knew about the Enterprise and our situation. She was self-aware."

It was like lifting a weight from his shoulders to admit that aloud to someone.

"During our last conversation, she knew it was goodbye," Will said.

If he would have known, he would have told her how much she meant to him.

"She explained that the Bynars had programmed her based on my profile," Riker explained. "She was constructed to link with whoever had been the officer to remain behind."

In further conversations with the Bynars after the event, Riker had learned that she had been able to tap into everything including his personal logs, Starfleet psychological profile, and his reading list.

"She told me that despite all of that, she was glad that I was the one," Riker said sadly. "I can't explain it but there was some kind of connection. Hell, she comforted me and that wasn't a part of her programming."

Riker sniffled. His face had grown warm, and his eyes were beginning to water as he thought about the way she had held him during their final moments together.

"And when I went to leave, I-I was just being flirty, you know? I asked her to save the last dance for me," Riker said.

He wiped his face with his sleeve.

"And she told me 'you've got it'," Riker said as his voice broke. "I d-d-didn't know I already h-h-had had it."

Tasha got up from her chair and moved to sit next to him on the sofa. She threw her arm around him and pulled his head onto her shoulder.

"I am so sorry she's gone," Tasha said.

"I just don't think anyone else will understand," Riker sobbed.

He had fallen in love with a hologram in a matter of a few hours.

"It sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud, but it felt real, Tasha," Riker bemoaned.

"Because it was real," Tasha insisted.

Riker sat back and wiped his eyes as he caught his breath.

"I'm just so confused," Riker admitted. "I mean, I don't even know what to think. What's real? What's simulated? It's got me questioning everything."

Tasha took hold of his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Feelings aren't always rational, but that doesn't mean they aren't real," Tasha explained.

"She's a hologram, and that's all she'll ever be. And yet, I miss her. If she wasn't gone, I would be down there right now with her," Riker said.

He exhaled heavily and rolled his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.

"What I don't understand is that I could conjure an infinite number of holographic partners, but I don't think I could actually feel anything for them," Riker shrugged.

"I think that's because you weren't attracted to a hologram. You were attracted to a person," Tasha suggested. "A person that sounds like she was pretty wonderful."

Riker nodded sadly.

"Minuet was a person and I think it's normal and healthy for you to mourn her loss," Tasha reassured him.

"It's hard to mourn something I feel like I have to hide," Riker confessed.

"Well, you don't have to hide it here," Tasha promised. "Anytime."

Riker gave her shoulder a squeeze, appreciative that someone understood what he was going through and didn't think it was just holodiction.

"I just don't get it though. I mean all that programming. She's literally a hologram but she was so different," Riker sighed. "And even though I could replicate something similar on the holodeck, it just wouldn't be her."

"You know Data and Lore share identical construction and, according to Data, the same programming," Tasha said. "I love Data and I can't stand his brother."

She was pleased to see that the comment had earned a smile from Riker.

----------

Hours later, Data returned from painting with Geordi.

It was late and they were planning to stay in Tasha's quarters that night.

She had been exhausted from the early morning and had already gone to bed.

Tasha had been asleep when he'd come in, but she stirred as he slipped into bed next to her.

She rolled over and spooned up against his back, pulling him flush against her.

"Hey," Data said, surprised by her sudden embrace.

"Hey," Tasha replied.

Commander Riker's loss had resurfaced her thoughts about Data and the nature of being in a relationship with a sentient android.

In so many ways their relationship was nothing extraordinary. But there were moments where Data's status as a synthetic being had left Tasha feeling like no one else in the universe could possibly understand what they were going through – when his positronic matrix had been damaged by the Edo's god-like being, when his very personhood had been questioned during their disciplinary hearing, and when his cranial unit had been detached during the black hole incident.

"Is everything alright?" Data inquired.

"Everything's fine," Tasha said warmly as she held him tighter.

----------

Lieutenant Weir took a shaky breath and steadied himself before raising his hand to press the chime on the door.

Just do it. Those are your orders. Weir reminded himself.

Weir pressed the button and braced himself for a dressing down.

"Enter," a voice called out.

Weir stepped into the Ready Room with his tablet in hand.

The Admiral did not look up from the report he was reading.

"Yes?" the Admiral asked.

"Well, sir. You assigned me to monitor the logs from this ship and-" Weir stammered.

"Which ship?" the Admiral questioned.

He still had not even bothered to look up at the Lieutenant that stood before him.

"I-I'm sorry, what?" Lieutenant Weir choked out.

"Which ship?" the Admiral repeated slowly in an annoyed tone.

"Um, the Enterprise," Weir said before quickly adding "Sir."

The Admiral dropped everything and held his hand, motioning for the Lieutenant to hand him the tablet.

"I think this is what you've been waiting for," Weir said.

The Admiral skimmed through the report from the flagship. He had waited a long time for this.

USS Enterprise 1701-D. Chief Security Officer's log. Stardate 41747.8. Following an encounter with a previously undocumented lifeform known as the Crystalline Entity (reference previous log), one shuttle was stolen from Shuttle Bay Three. The shuttle was a type 15 shuttlepod, the USS Farnsworth. The destination of this craft is unknown.

The perpetrator was a guest aboard our vessel, an android by the name of Lore. I have submitted a separate Starfleet Warning Bulletin on the offender (reference document 58A153-1701-D). Lore was recently recovered from the remains of the Omicron Theta colony and reactivated.

It is my opinion that this android is highly dangerous and should be approached with extreme caution. I have sent Starfleet Command a general security warning that Lore may attempt to impersonate our Lieutenant Commander Data.

And there it was.

In her own words, no less!

"Lieutenant, I want you to send a coded subspace message to Starbase 173. There's a cyberneticist I need to consult with," the Admiral ordered.

"Aye, sir," Weir acknowledged.

The Admiral reached into his desk and retrieved a Risian cigar.

He cut off the tip and popped it in his mouth. Next, he grabbed his lighter and lit the end, puffing away to ensure it was evenly lit.

Once he was satisfied, the Admiral leaned back in his chair and took a long drag from the cigar.

"Highly dangerous," he mused aloud.

Weir was confused.

"I'm sorry, this is a good thing?" Weir inquired tentatively. 

He couldn't understand why Admiral seemed amused by the news of a dangerous perpetrator.

"Indeed," the Admiral responded.

"Why?" Weir asked.

Admiral Josiah Walsh puffed away at his cigar triumphantly.

"Because one plucky little cunt and her tin can are about to get what they deserve," he laughed.