The Complication

The Appendix

Author's Note: Eek! We're finally here! This is intended to be one of the fun chapters before we hit Measure of a Man.

Geordi, Miles, and Worf don't mean any harm – they're just excited!  

This chapter is soooo long, but I couldn't bear to cut any of it. 

As a whole, this chapter introduces a whole new level of how misunderstandings and snippets of gossip can lead people to hear what they want. It is partially inspired by the M*A*S*H episode Check Up and the Are You Being Served classic episode Mrs Slocombe Expects.

This chapter does delve into a little bit more background on why Tasha's so hung up on the concept of marriage. It also offers some additional insight into Turkanan lore.

It sets the stage for Measure of a Man and I hope you enjoy.

As a reminder, in this universe, there's about a year between Encounter at Farpoint and The Naked Now.

Also, the medical advancements of this era enable them to detect pregnancy, screen for things like gestational diabetes much sooner than we currently can, and work miracles that our modern medicine is not capable of.

Chapter specific C/W: mentions of pregnancy & antenatal complications. However, there is no actual pregnancy in this chapter.

Thank you!

-X-

Tasha sat back and wiped her chin.

"Don't say it," she said as she put one finger up.

She could feel Data hovering at the door. He'd followed her out of bed.

It was almost 05:00 and this was the third time Tasha had gotten up. Dry heaving was awful, but she could barely stomach the notion of eating or drinking anything.

She was burning up. She felt like she wanted to rip her skin off.

"I believe it would be prudent to visit Sickbay," Data advised.

"I just need a shower," Tasha replied, waving him off.

Half an hour later, they were seated across the table from one another.

"How are you feeling?" Data inquired.

"Much better," Tasha smiled. "See? Told you it would pass."

-X-

Data was almost late to his shift because of a disagreement with Tasha. She'd insisted she was fine. While she truly did look better, Data remained concerned.

Humans did not suddenly begin vomiting or develop a fever without a cause.

And with all of the advanced medicine that was quite literally at their fingertips, Data could not understand Tasha's aversion to visiting Sickbay.

He reasoned it likely had something to do with her childhood. Medical care was primitive at best on Turkana – a blend of ancient Earth techniques carried across the galaxy combined with the folk techniques of the Turkanan natives.

What Data didn't know was the real reason why Tasha was so hesitant to go to Sickbay.

Her symptoms had come on fast. There had been no warning.

She'd taken a hypospray for the pain the night before and it had done nothing.

Tasha had seen this before on Turkana.

Swamp Gut was a mysterious illness. It came on quickly. Victims would burn up in agonising pain. Some would get better with no explanation – most died.

Tasha understood Swamp Gut had to be some kind of virus. She also knew that there was nothing she could do but ride it out.

There was no known equivalent illness in Federation medicine. Tasha's field medical training had taught her that much.

There was nothing Beverly could do for her but manage the symptoms. This kind of ailment would undoubtedly trigger Beverly's insatiable curiosity. Tasha was in no mood to spend the next few days being poked and prodded, trapped in Sickbay like some lab rat.

So, Data and Tasha had spent breakfast in a terse disagreement before Tasha ended the discussion reminding them both they were due to report for duty.

"Morning, Data," Geordi said as he swept into the lab.

"Commander!" Miles waved.

They were just about to initiate a new round of tests on a phaser coil redesign. If they were successful, they'd be able to skim another 1.2 microns from each coil. While that may seem insignificant, when applied to all phaser coils it would save them a total of fifteen square metres of space.

Space was a valuable commodity on a starship – even just fifteen square metres.

Finding ways to condense their equipment would mean more room for supplies, additional phasers, or even additional systems.

"Cutting it close, eh?" Miles teased. "New hairstyle?"

"Lieutenant Yar was not feeling well this morning," Data answered.

Miles and Geordi exchanged a brief glance out of the corner of their eyes.

Data headed into the test chamber to finalise the connection to the simulation.

As soon as the door was closed, Geordi laughed.

"That doesn't mean anything," Miles whispered. "I'd be sick too if I'd eaten an entire jar of pincha peppers for dinner."

"C'mon! That's morning sickness!" Geordi protested in a hushed voice.

Miles rolled his eyes.

"One bloody morning," he said sharply as he shook his finger.

They fell silent as soon as Data emerged from the test chamber. Geordi was unscrewing and re-screwing a piece he'd already done twice. Miles was whistling nervously – just like he did at poker.

This did not go unnoticed by the perceptive Second Officer.

-X-

"How's Wes?" Tasha asked.

"He's doing much better," Beverly replied. "He's got another few rounds of treatment to repair the damage to his bone marrow, but the prognosis is good."

She paused and leaned forward to grab her glass of wine from the coffee table.

The three friends were scattered about Deanna's quarters for their weekly girl's night. The recent slew of assignments on the Enterprise had been mundane. While they loathed the monotony, it was a chance for everyone to enjoy leisure and personal time.

It meant the three women had been able to enjoy their weekly girl's night without interruption for the last six weeks – a rare treat aboard a starship.

"I think Haven is going to do him so good. The waters are said to have wondrous healing properties," Beverly said.

She was a woman of science, but she wasn't ready to discount the legends. Beverly had seen far too many miraculous cures come of out the waters of remote mountain ranges or newly discovered plant life.

Beverly recognised there were things out there that the Federation was too young to understand.

"What about you and Data?" she asked.

Tasha clasped her hands together in excitement.

They didn't have any grand plans – but they were going to do something they'd tried once before.

"We're going camping," Tasha shared.

She smiled to herself as she recalled their earlier trip to the Edo planet. Though their surprise camping trip had been thwarted by the storm, it had still been a pleasant experience.

This would be their second attempt and Tasha was looking forward to a few relaxing days alone surrounded by the great outdoors.

"There's a forested trail area up the main coast. We're going to camp along it and then meet Miles and Keiko on the last day for a kayak day trip in this marine preserve area at the opposite trailhead," Tasha explained.

Most of Haven's cities were located in the lush, subtropical central region of the planet. It was full of unique wildlife that Data was eager to see first-hand.

Data had travelled to Haven once before during his early years in Starfleet. It had been eighteen years since he'd last visited the planet. He had been part of an exobiology team studying the lifecycle of an endangered snail and now Data was keen to return.

"That sounds wonderful," Deanna said.

"Mmm, I used to adore camping. I still do. On the holodeck that is," Beverly remarked.

The three friends laughed.

"Oh c'mon! The great outdoors. The stars. The smell of the campfire," Deanna said wistfully.

Deanna had always found something romantic about that pioneering spirit of heading off into the wilderness. She surmised it was all the Western novels she'd read with her father as a child.

"Mmm the s'mores," Deanna said with a wicked grin.

"The bugs. The heat. Sleeping on the ground," Beverly went on, listing the various reasons why she no longer saw the appeal. "Besides, you're one to talk. Aren't you booked up at that beachside resort?"

"Yes," Deanna replied slowly. "And I'll admit that I do enjoy being pampered."

She had carefully booked her trip. Deanna's accommodations would offer her the best of both worlds. She would have quiet solitude in her own private cabana where she could lounge by the water and soak up the sun with a good book.

At the same time, she was only a few minutes' walk from the commercial hub of Haven where the pleasures of shopping, dining, and the Haven nightlife were all readily available.

"I wanted to be close to the city," Deanna said.

"You wanted to be close to Commander Riker," Beverly said knowingly.

"We are going to see each other. But really, we're spending most of our time apart," Deanna confessed.

The relationship between the First Officer and the ship's Counsellor was complex. They had tried a committed relationship before and failed.

Will was too focused on his career and when he didn't come back to Betazed, Deanna had breathed a sigh of relief.

She wasn't ready to make a commitment.

There was far too much to see and do. Betazeds relished the opportunity to live life to the fullest and Deanna felt like jumping in with Will Riker at such a young age would have been a mistake.

It seemed fate had brought them together again on the Enterprise.

They were dear friends – the dearest of friends. Most importantly, they were friends first and foremost and lovers second.

Deanna had initially been concerned by Will Riker. Human men were so closed-minded in her experience – particularly Terrans.

But Will Riker had proved her wrong.

And with each growing year Deanna and Will remained committed as the best of friends – even supporting one another in their other relationships.

Deanna had shared some of this with her friends. The three of them were all in unusual circumstances when it came their personal relationships.

However, there were certain things she had not shared with the other ladies – namely that they would be meeting up at one of the clubs to play their favourite game. They'd dance and drink and flirt and pretend they didn't know one another.

It was a great way to blow off some steam.

"You know he even offered to make the food for tonight," Deanna said.

Beverly froze halfway to her mouth with a cracker topped with some kind of red mouse.

While enthusiastic, Will Riker had a lot to learn about cooking.

"I didn't let him," Deanna assured the room quickly.

Beverly nodded appreciatively and resumed snacking.

"Although I did sneak his recipe for the mango salsa," Deanna confessed. "How is it by the way?"

She stopped and looked across the table at Tasha.

"Great," Tasha said.

"You haven't touched it," Deanna replied. "If it's no good, please tell me. I'm planning to make it for the kids group counselling session next week so you're my lab rat."

Feeling obligated, Tasha scooped some up on a crisp.

"It's really good," Tasha said honestly as she covered her mouth with her hand.

Tasha took one bite and left the rest untouched.

Deanna frowned.

"What's wrong?" Deanna asked, concerned her culinary efforts had been a failure.

"I'm just not hungry," Tasha shrugged.

Beverly raised her eyebrows.

"Since when have you ever turned down food?" Beverly asked.

The Doctor reached across the table to feel Tasha's forehead. She was clammy.

"Look, it was Lieutenant Verdon's birthday," Tasha said.

That much was true. The Security office had been filled with pastries and cake, frozen desserts, and coffee all day.

Tasha just conveniently left out the fact that she had avoided all of that too.

"You feel a little warm," Beverly said.

"And you're drinking...well...whatever that is," Deanna said with a disapproving look.

Tasha had turned down the wine and forgone her customary whisky in favour of a homemade remedy she'd brought in her thermos.

It was disgusting, but it helped with the symptoms – tea with ginseng, mint, and ginger, buttermilk, fresh lemon, netrin root.

"Training, yanno?" Tasha lied.

The Enterprise annual sparring tournament was fast approaching, and it was no secret Tasha was keen to defend her title as champion.

One advantage of all their recent mundane missions was that she'd been able to wrack up considerable hours on the holodeck with Worf.

Fortunately, neither Beverly nor Deanna pushed the issue.

-X-

Geordi took a long swig of his water bottle as he waited for Miles's reaction.

The Chief scrunched up his face, deep in thought. All of a sudden he dropped his fork.

"Oh it's not that ruddy ship programme again, is it?" Miles grumbled.

"Age of Sail is not just any programme," Geordi replied. "It's based on the game. We would both be responsible for manning our own fleet."

Miles sat back and crossed his arms.

"We've been waiting six months for this Battle of Britain programme, and you want to traipse about in a powdered wig!" Miles huffed.

The two were at lunch debating their next holodeck adventure. While both Miles and Geordi were glad they had Keiko and Sonya in their lives – it was beginning to really cut into their holodeck time.

Their argument was interrupted as Worf cleared his throat.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Worf inquired.

"Hey, slide in!" Geordi offered.

"I'll snag an empty chair for T," Miles said as he got up.

"Don't bother," Worf said, stopping him.

Geordi and Miles stared across the table at one another.

"She will not be joining us," Worf advised.

"Busy day?" Geordi asked.

"She is feeling ill," Worf said quietly.

Worf stabbed a piece of fruit. He may have seemed disinterested, but he was truly worried about Tasha. She'd spent the entire morning rushing in and out of the office to hurl.

Bicarbonate of soda, a hypospray to keep the fever in check, and that disgusting tea she'd been drinking – it was an endless cycle.

Worf had offered her a shot of firewater. It was an old Klingon remedy for the morning after too much bloodwine and was made using the urine of a young Targ.

Tasha had nearly wretched all over her desk at the smell.

"So, do you think she'll be alright for the tournament? That's coming up soon, isn't it?" Geordi asked.

"Lieutenant Yar has assured me she will be ready," Worf shared. "In any case, her symptoms would indicate she is suffering from some kind of virus."

Geordi raised his eyebrow.

"Symptoms?" he asked.

"Vomiting," Worf responded.

"You don't say," Geordi remarked as he locked eyes with Miles. "All morning?"

"Indeed," Worf grumbled.

-X-

Tasha clenched her jaw tight around her mouthguard as she danced around the ring, avoiding Worf's jabs.

She was drenched in sweat. It was beginning to leak into her eyes, stinging her skin with its salty composition.

They'd only been at it for around twenty minutes, but Tasha was already feeling knackered. Swamp Gut had really taken it out of her.

But Tasha could deal with feeling exhausted. In fact, she rather liked the sense of completion that accompanied being tired after a long day.

What she was struggling with was the pain that had gripped her entire body.

It was getting hard to keep up and each new wave of pain impeded her movement.

"Need a break?" Worf asked.

"Why, can't you keep up?" Tasha taunted.

She smiled – but she was also breathing much more heavily than was typical for one of these sparring sessions.

Worf had suggested they cancel their sparring session until she was feeling better. Tasha has assured him that was not necessary.

Out of nowhere, Worf caught her in the abdomen with a powerful kick.

He had never expected to make contact – Tasha was usually far too fast.

The kick sent Tasha back. She collapsed, clutching her side, and making the most horrible, high-pitched groaning noise Worf had ever heard.

"Tasha!" Worf said as he dropped to his knees next to her.

She was balled up, her body contorted from the severe pain in her abdomen.

"Fine," she rasped.

With Worf's help, she rolled onto her back.

In as many years as they had worked together, this was the first time Worf had ever seen Tasha brought to tears from physical pain.

"Come, we will get you to Sickbay," Worf said as he attempted to scoop her up.

"No, no," Tasha protested. "I'm fine."

"You took quite hit," Worf said. "I apologise."

"Don't," Tasha insisted.

This was part of the game. It wasn't Worf's fault she'd been brought to her knees by this mysterious ailment from her childhood.

What Tasha didn't understand was why it wouldn't suddenly emerge so many years after leaving Turkana.

Unless it's biological. She thought.

She had always assumed Swamp Gut had been caused by some microorganism present on Turkana. However, she'd never contracted the illness in her youth.

If this was a biological virus or disease, then that could account for why such an ailment didn't exist in the Federation.

"You require medical attention," Worf said.

Tasha shook her head, adamant there was nothing Doctor Crusher could do.

"I just need a minute," Tasha said.

"May I?" Worf asked as he indicated to her abdomen.

Tasha nodded.

She hissed as Worf gently prodded.

Tasha squeezed her eyes shut as a fresh wave of tears threatened to spill over.

"For the love of Kahless, go to Sickbay," Worf fumed.

"You don't understand, there's nothing Beverly can do for me," Tasha confessed.

Worf frowned.

"You're right. I do not understand," Worf admitted.

He offered Tasha a hand and helped her into an upright position.

"This is just something that happens, Worf," Tasha said, dismissing his concern.

"It has never happened to me. And if it did, I'd be in Sickbay," Worf grumbled. "There is honouring in caring for yourself."

Tasha laughed and then immediately winced.

"This couldn't happen to you," Tasha informed him.

"What do you mean?" Worf asked.

The tone of her voice indicated that there was something she was not sharing. That left Worf alarmed.

"It just, it can't happen to people like you," Tasha shrugged.

-X-

Ten minutes later, Geordi ran into Worf on the turbolift.

"You're done early," Geordi remarked.

"Our sparring session has ended," Worf grumbled.

"Because of Tasha?" Geordi asked.

He was intrigued because of his bet – but he was equally as concerned for the safety of his friend.

"We ended our session. I am," Worf paused and took a deep breath. "Forget I mentioned anything."

"Whoa, hey. Worf, what's going on?" Geordi asked.

Now he was really worried.

"I am not certain," Worf said in earnest.

"But something's bothering you," Geordi observed.

"Lieutenant Yar's condition," Worf answered.

Condition.

"What do you know about it?" Geordi demanded.

His curiosity was now in overdrive. To Geordi, it would only make sense for Tasha to break the news to Worf first. After all, Worf was her best friend.

"Very little," Worf said. "As Tasha said, it is not something I will ever experience."

-X-

"Computer, what are the early symptoms of pregnancy in humans?" Geordi asked.

He kicked off his boots and punched in an order for a decaf Raktajino at the replicator as the computer listed the signs.

Nausea occurring with or without vomiting – commonly referred to as morning sickness.

Hormonal changes including swollen, tender breasts.

Fatigue.

Food cravings or aversions. Sensitivities to certain odours. Heartburn.

Nosebleeds.

Geordi took a sip of his Raktajino and shook the thought from his head.

It had been six weeks since he'd run into Tasha on the lift.

Surely they would have known before now.

Data would have said something by now.

Unless.

It was conceivable they were waiting to announce until they knew for sure. If these were early symptoms, it was possible Data and Tasha wanted to wait until they were further along to discuss the matter with their friends – though Geordi couldn't help feeling a bit left out that Worf was in the loop.

He kicked that thought as quickly as it came.

Geordi wasn't upset.

He was absolutely chuffed – his best friend was having a baby!

Geordi flopped down on his sofa and heaved a contented sigh.

Before he got carried away, he needed confirmation.

"Computer, when do these symptoms usually appear?" Geordi asked.

"Early symptoms of human pregnancy will appear in the first trimester. Most humans will display symptoms six to eight weeks after conception," the computer responded.

-X-

It was shortly before 02:00 when Tasha awoke in pain.

Her sleep shirt was damp with perspiration. She was nearly shaking from the pain that had gripped the right side of her abdomen.

She pushed away Data's hand.

"Please don't," she managed to choke out.

She didn't want to be touched. Every small movement was like a fresh wave of torment.

Tasha was in misery. Complete and utter misery.

"We must get you to Sickbay," Data commented as he got out of bed.

"Argh," Tasha grunted as she threw her legs over the side of the bed.

She was going hurl and Tasha knew it would be an ordeal to make it to the lavvy in time.

Data was sitting on the edge of the bed when she returned.

She wasn't sure why she felt as if she was in trouble - but Tasha definitely felt like she was about to get a reprimand.

"You require medical attention," Data said.

It wasn't a question or a request.

"Look, there's nothing Beverly can do for this. I just have to ride it out," Tasha tried to explain.

Data frowned.

"I am not implying your statement is intentionally false, but I do not believe it is accurate," Data said.

After considerable back and forth, Data finally laid out his ultimatum.

"You will go to Sickbay in the morning, or I will carry you there tonight whether you wish to go or not," Data said in a stern voice.

Tasha closed her eyes and sighed.

"Alright. But after the morning report. I don't want anybody talking. You know how rumours get started on this ship," she said, resigned to her fate.

-X-

The next morning, Tasha caught Beverly on her way off the Bridge following their morning briefing. Instead of heading to the Security office, Tasha joined Beverly in Sickbay.

She was going to make good on her promise to Data – even though Tasha knew it was futile.

"Swamp Gut?" Beverly asked.

Tasha shrugged.

"Obviously it's some kind of virus. I don't know why it's specific to Turkana, but I'm telling you – I just have to ride this out," Tasha explained.

While Swamp Gut was largely a death sentence on Turkana, Tasha didn't feel it was a risk here. She was living on a ship with modern hygienic atmospheric conditions. She was healthy, not malnourished. The Enterprise had clean drinking water.

Tasha felt safe. She wasn't at risk of dehydration or parasites here.

"I'd like to start you on a routine, catch-all antibiotic," Beverly said as she administered a hypospray. "It won't cure this virus, but it may help with the symptoms."

Tasha didn't have the heart to tell her she'd already administered the same antibiotic three days earlier when she'd first started to feel sick.

"I'd also like to run some blood tests. See if we can find out more about what we're up against," Beverly advised.

Tasha rolled up her sleeve and held out her arm. She was familiar with the routine.

When she'd been first rescued from that trafficking ship by Starfleet, she'd been a sort of medical curiosity. The medical crew of the USS Renegade had never expected to actually see malnutrition, gonorrhea, conjunctivitis, and gingivitis first-hand – let alone in one patient.

Tasha always shuddered when she recalled how she'd been forced to sit there on an exam table as a team of officers had studied her mouth. They had been equally fascinated and horrified by the condition of her teeth.

On Turkana, the men that had captured her had told Tasha she was lucky she didn't have many pox scars.

The crew of the Renegade had been utterly enthralled by the fact that there was evidence of chickenpox – long since eradicated – on her body.

It had been a humiliating experience.

Beverly returned a moment later. Using a special tool, she pulled a blood sample without breaking the skin.

"I'll get this to the lab. In the meantime, tell me if your symptoms worsen," Beverly instructed.

The door to Sickbay slid open and Miles came in supported by Ensign Fredrickson and Lieutenant Graham.

"Plasma coolant leak," Graham announced.

"Alyssa, start him on ten ccs of Medorapan and notify Doctor Selar we've got a burn patient," Beverly ordered. "I'll be right there."

"Hey," Miles hissed as he sat down on the cot next to Tasha. "Come here often?"

"That looks awful," Tasha commented.

"Ah, I'll be right as rain in no time," Miles assured her.

Plasma burns were nasty business, but this wasn't Miles's first rodeo.

"Tasha, I want to see you at 16:00 for a follow-up," Beverly advised.

Tasha hopped off the bed and stepped over to Miles's cot.

"Anything I can do for you, Chief?" Tasha offered.

"Tell Keiko I'll be late for dinner," Miles said before Beverly put him under.

-X-

The rest of Tasha's shift had been uncomfortable. Worf was on edge – constantly asking if he could get her anything and offering to see to her duties.

It was driving Tasha bananas and was precisely why she'd been so reluctant to confess that she was ill.

If Worf's constant concern wasn't enough, Data had stopped in no less than four times to check in on Tasha.

One mother hen is enough! Tasha had told them halfway through the afternoon.

She hated to be mollycoddled.

Begrudgingly, Tasha dragged herself back to Sickbay at 16:00 hours.

Her symptoms hadn't improved. As suspected, the antibiotic hadn't done anything for her.

"Your white blood cell count is up," Beverly explained.

She still wasn't exactly sure what they were dealing with. All of the usual culprits had been ruled out by the bloodwork.

"I'm telling you, we just need to let this run its course. There's nothing you can do," Tasha said.

"Tasha, is there anything else you can tell me? Does it impact a particular age group? Or do you think it could be genetic?" Beverly asked.

"Well, most people get it before they're thirty," Tasha responded.

"Okay. That's something. I'm not sure what, but it's something," Beverly replied.

She set down her tricorder and gently pressed Tasha's stomach.

"And it hurts when I do this?" Beverly asked.

"Yes," Tasha replied through gritted teeth.

-X-

Across the ship, Data was working with Keiko in the Arboretum as they tended to a new crop of Elosian pears that were ready for harvest.

"Have you and Miles decided on a wedding date?" Data asked.

"Not yet," Keiko responded.

It had been a matter of great debate.

"I just want to get it over with, you know?" Keiko responded. "Sometimes I think Miles is so concerned about making me happy that he doesn't realise I don't want all that extra stuff."

Data clipped one of the pear stems, pulling it from the tree. He handed it down the ladder to Keiko who placed it in the basket.

"These will make a lovely project for your cooking class," Data said.

"Thanks! We're covering baking this week. Pear pie tomorrow and fresh rolls on Thursday," Keiko shared. "I've never worked with a holographic oven, so we'll see how this turns out!"

Keiko had a natural gift for teaching, and she enjoyed finding ways to incorporate her botany skills in other areas. Demonstrating practical applications – the literal fruits of her labour – were just one way to prove the usefulness of the Arboretum to the crew.

The new Galaxy-class ships boasted the largest-ever Arboretums featured on starships. Keiko was keen to show that this space was more than just a beautiful greenspace. The Arboretum offered an important service in growing many rare plants and it featured a working garden and small orchard.

"He's so worried about making this wedding perfect that I think he forgets it's supposed to be a day about us," Keiko shared.

Data climbed down and they moved on the next tree.

"You know I wouldn't mind getting married here in the Arboretum," Keiko confessed.

Data paused and looked back at her, cocking his head to the side in confusion. He was surprised to hear her say such a thing.

"If I wasn't so worried about everyone trampling over the new wheezeworts we just planted," Keiko grinned.

They were a delicate plant and it had taken six months to secure the seedlings from the Vulcan science academy. Renowned for their soothing properties, wheezeworts were a hot commodity in the botany world.

"How was your appointment?" Keiko asked.

"Productive," Data responded simply.

Keiko was accustomed to having to draw information out from Data. He didn't mean to be cryptic. It was just his nature.

"So did you and Tasha discuss your thoughts on marriage?" Keiko asked.

"Commitment," Data corrected her. "Lieutenant Yar's people do not have traditional marriage customs like other humanoids."

"Right. Commitment," Keiko repeated. "And?"

Data paused.

"Surprisingly, the conversation predominantly focused on my desire to start a family," Data shared. "While that may seem out of sequence to most humanoids, it an easier subject to discuss."

Data frowned.

"I must confess it is a matter that I wish to resolve soon, however, as I suspect it will be a necessary component of creating a family," Data said.

"Oh, Data. Nobody cares about that anymore. Plenty of people have kids and never get married," Keiko said, hoping to cheer him up.

"Thank you. But that is not why I am keen to resolve the matter. As my status as a sentient, free being is ambiguous, I wish to solidify a commitment that is recognised by the Federation so as to ensure that my parental rights are respected," Data shared.

He paused and lifted his eyebrows.

"Hence the urgency," Data commented.

Tasha had always clammed up when the topic of marriage was discussed.

She wasn't even comfortable with the word.

Data suspected this was due, in part, to her own Turkanan beliefs. However, he also theorised it was a challenging subject given her previous engagement to the late Lieutenant O'Connor.

Tasha had spoken little of the situation. Deanna could count on one hand the number of words she'd ever heard Tasha say on the matter.

It wasn't that Tasha had second thoughts about her relationship with Data. She wanted to be together. She wanted to start a family – someday.

Tasha just got skittish whenever Data broached the subject of a formalised commitment, and she was particularly touchy about the word 'marriage.'

There was no centralised religion on Turkana. The Alliance and the Coalition had long ago stamped out all religious influence – destroying sacred sites and sending thousands to their deaths.

Life was so cruel and short that most mercenaries and city-dwellers simply cohabited without formalised titles for their partners. Bonding rituals were outlawed in an effort to hinder the clans' abilities to grow their forces.

The clans themselves had their own customs. Spouses were typically obtained as a part of trade negotiations or as punishment following a loss. There were no weddings. There was no romance. It was simply a matter of survival.

Tasha spent most of her childhood in northern Turkana. It was the last stronghold of the old ways.

The people there believed that marriage was forbidden. So people looking to make a commitment made a promise to one another in a ritual known as the Ceangal Azurdorcha or "dark bond."

It was a private act usually done in complete secrecy.

People would meet at night and seal their commitment with an act of coupling. It was said that such an act was a promise to you, your lover, and the moon.

For many lovers, it was often the one and only time they were permitted to express their true feelings.

What Data didn't know was just how much of struggle it really was for Tasha.

Marriage wasn't merely an overlooked part of Turkanan custom.

It was forbidden.

Turkanan custom held that the sun deity, the goddess Seridia, had broken her father's heart by falling in love with Kieran, the dark one.

He was the deity that controlled darkness.

The legend claimed that Kieran had bound Seridia with a commitment to always return to him and to split her time between his realm and her own. That was why the sun set every day and returned in the morning.

It was said that their union was witnessed by Azura, the lunar deity and Seridia's sister. Hence why Turkanan custom dictated that the moon be the only witness to the commitment of lovers.

Their children, Rorik and Sela, were constantly at war as Rorik's storms battled Sela's warm breeze and sunlight.

Because of this, marriage was forbidden. The bonding of Seridia and Kieran had caused darkness to cover Turkana at night and war between their children.

While Tasha didn't believe these characters were real deities, she recognised this was a story that was likely intended to discourage such unions between the clans (as bonding's often led to war).

But Tasha Yar was more superstitious than she cared to admit.

There was a part of her that felt like the reason Alfie had died was because she had accepted his proposal.

Well, more specifically, because she had rejected the traditions of her birthright.

Tasha felt like it was the universe's way of reminding her to mind herself, not to get conceited about who she was or where she came from.

Everything had a cost and in leaving Turkana, Tasha was heavily indebted for the opportunity of escape.

Data knew none of this.

But it mattered not.

He wanted to be with Tasha. As long as she was devoted to making a commitment of some form, then Data was happy.

-X-

"You have an appendix," Beverly said in astonishment.

"A what?" Tasha asked.

"An appendix," Beverly repeated.

She blinked a few times, flabbergasted.

Beverly had checked three times – once, twice to ensure the equipment wasn't malfunctioning, and a third time to ensure she hadn't gone mad.

"Doctor?" Tasha pressed.

Whatever this appendix was, it had shocked Beverly. That left Tasha worried it was cause for concern.

"Sorry, I just never imagined seeing one," Beverly confessed.

"Beverly!" Tasha pleaded.

"It's an organ that acts sort of like a reservoir for bacteria in your gut," Beverly explained.

"Eww," Tasha commented, scrunching up her face in disgust.

She figured it was no wonder they called it Swamp Gut on Turkana.

"Good bacteria," Beverly said, waving her hands. "It's not a bad thing!"

Beverly slipped her tricorder back into the pocket of her medical jacket and began to feel Tasha's lymph nodes under her chin.

"In fact, it was an important part of the human lymphatic system for hundreds of years," Beverly explained.

"Then why have I never heard of it? And why are you so surprised," Tasha asked.

She didn't like where this was headed.

"Because we don't have them anymore. We haven't for years. The last human appendixes were recorded back in the twenty-first century," Beverly answered. "The appendix was a hotspot for radiation absorption in the body."

Beverly explained that after the Third World War, appendectomies had been on the rise. This led to the appendix being a prime target for scientists during the early pioneering days of genetic engineering.

"It's quite literally not in our DNA anymore," Beverly said. "With modern medicine, it's obsolete. We no longer possess the gene to grow an appendix in the womb."

Tasha grimaced as a fresh wave of nausea crept up the back of her throat.

"It makes sense that humans in a place like Turkana would retain that gene – even the ones that colonised the planet from Earth. Those with an appendix would have a serious genetic advantage and therefore were likely the ones able to populate," Beverly explained.

Beverly was practically giddy.

She never imagined the chance to see something like this outside of the pages of a medical history textbook.

"What you know as Swamp Gut was likely appendicitis," Beverly said.

Tasha nodded.

"Well, at least I can tell Data I kept my promise," Tasha said as she made to slip off the table.

"Whoa, not so fast," Beverly said as she put her hand out to stop Tasha.

Tasha sat back and braced herself for a request to run countless tests.

"I'm in no mood to play lab rat," Tasha protested.

"And I'm not asking. This is serious," Beverly cautioned.

After some back and forth, Beverly made it clear that this wasn't a matter of having access to clean water.

"Sometimes appendicitis can go away on its own, but in most cases the appendix will eventually burst," Beverly warned. "A ruptured appendix can be life-threatening – even with our technology."

As frustrated as Tasha had been with Data earlier, she was grateful that he'd stuck to his phasers and demanded she go to Sickbay.

"Then cut it out!" Tasha said urgently.

Beverly shook her head.

"It's not that simple," she said.

Beverly informed Tasha that she wasn't comfortable simply removing the organ without a better understanding.

"I don't want to compromise your immune system," Beverly said.

She wanted to send a subspace communication back to Starfleet Medical and check if there were any other human appendectomies that had been performed in recent years.

"If we have to, we'll remove it. But I'd prefer to find a way to keep it intact – particularly if you still carry the genetic sequence necessary to produce an appendix," Beverly said.

Tasha hopped off the bed.

She winced from the pain when her feet hit the floor, bracing herself with the exam bed to prevent herself from collapsing.

"Tasha?" Beverly asked.

"I'll be alright the next time I throw up," Tasha assured her.

-X-

When Miles came to, Geordi was sitting next to his bedside.

"Hey, Chief. I heard about what happened," Geordi said.

Miles groaned as he flexed his hands. It would be a day or two before his hands were fully healed from the damage. In the very least, they had managed to stop the coolant leak before there was serious damage to the ship.

Tasha waved at the two on her way out of Sickbay, wishing Miles a speedy recovery.

"How is she?" Nurse Ogawa asked after Tasha left.

Beverly shrugged.

"I'm not sure. This is all so new," she replied.

"I can't imagine. First time for everything though, right?" Ogawa smiled.

Suddenly, Nurse Ogawa's eyes lit up.

"Say, how did this morning go?" she asked.

Beverly had seen Lieutenant Juarez and her husband earlier that morning and confirmed that she was, in fact, preggers.

News of a baby onboard was always cause for celebration.

Beverly grinned.

"Excellent!" Beverly replied. "She's about six weeks along."

Six weeks? Geordi gasped with excitement.

Alyssa clapped her hands together.

"They haven't decided any names yet, but I told them it will be here before they know it," Beverly said before turning to her office.

Geordi turned to Miles who was sitting upright in bed – his jaw hanging open.

"I-I don't....what?" he stammered. "How?"

"Beats me. But you owe me one month of carbon scrubbing," Geordi said, beaming with pride.

The door to Sickbay slid open and Keiko stepped inside.

To Miles's relief, she'd brought her typical care package including dinner.

"I'll leave you to it," Geordi said as he clapped Miles on the shoulder.

"What?" Keiko asked as she approached his cot.

It was hard to ignore the shocked expression on Miles's face.

Miles shook his head nervously.

"Spill it! What's got you so worked up?" Keiko asked as she pulled out a ration pack for him.

Miles chewed on his lip. He didn't feel like it was his place to say.

However, he knew Keiko was on to him and didn't want to keep a secret from her.

"I trust this will go no further," Miles said as he waved Keiko in close.

-X-

By the time Data reached his quarters, Tasha was already there. She was curled up on the sofa with her tablet in hand, scanning through shinty league scores and nursing a glass of buttermilk.

"How did your appointment go?" Data inquired.

"Fine," Tasha assured him.

Well, not fine. Tasha thought.

But the details weren't important.

"What did Doctor Crusher say?" Data asked as he sat down next to her.

Tasha shrugged.

"Wait and see," she answered honestly.

Data was mindful that Tasha was in considerable pain and did not wish to be held. Instead, he reached up and tucked her bangs back behind her ear.

"Thank you for going to Sickbay," Data said.

Tasha set her tablet down on the coffee table and shifted so she could look at Data properly.

"Thank you for pushing me," Tasha replied.

She took hold of his hands and gingerly pulled them into her lap.

"I don't always treat you kindly when you do it, but I really do appreciate your concern," Tasha acknowledged.

She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his own.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"Tasha?" Data asked.

"Hmm?" she responded.

"May I kiss you?" Data asked.

"Mmm hmm," Tasha responded.

She keened softly as Data gently cupped the back of her head and pulled her into a slow kiss.

Data had longed to get his lips on her all day.

"Ow," Tasha said, pulling back.

"I am sorry," Data said quickly.

"It wasn't you," Tasha assured him.

She had simply shifted wrong, upsetting the delicate posture she'd found a small sliver of relief in.

"Then you wish to continue?" Data asked.

"Yes," Tasha replied with a grin.

-X-

"I know, shocking right?" Miles asked. "I hardly believed it myself. If I hadn't heard them talking-"

He trailed off and shook his head.

Keiko hadn't said a word since Miles had broken the news to her.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Miles asked.

Her face had darkened, overtaken by worry and fear.

"Just something Data said to me earlier," Keiko informed him.

She closed her eyes and grumbled.

Now, in context, his words haunted Keiko's thoughts.

"What is it?" Miles asked as he reached for hand.

He couldn't exactly hold it because of his injuries, but it was there for moral support.

"We were working together in the Arboretum earlier and Data said that he and Tasha had been struggling to figure things out. Since he's android, he's worried the Federation won't recognise his parental rights. He specifically said parental rights," Keiko shared.

Her lip quivered and she sniffled.

"He said, 'hence the urgency'," Keiko recounted.

-X-

That night, neither Data nor Tasha showed for poker with other senior officers.

"Is this it?" Deanna asked as she glanced around the table.

"Yes indeed," Riker said as he set down a bowl of popcorn in the middle of the table.

It was their weekly poker night and attendance was sparse.

"Chief's in Sickbay," Geordi said. "Nasty coolant burns."

"Tasha's not feeling well," Worf shared.

"And Data said he was going to stay in tonight," Riker informed them.

They were down three players, but there were still plenty of players at the table for it to be an enjoyable evening.

With their favourite dealer missing, Deanna stepped in.

She shuffled the cards and then offered the deck to Worf to cut before dealing the cards out around the table. She didn't quite have the same precision and speed as Data, but she made up for it with her personality.

"The game is five card stud," Deanna announced.

Five card stud wasn't common around most poker tables anymore. It was difficult to bluff in a game where so much information was available to the players.

However, the senior officers had agreed to this style of play given the makeup of the table.

Deanna's empathic abilities, Geordi's VISOR, and Riker's skills in reading people all made it easy for them to cheat if they wanted.

Miles had an uncanny ability to bluff his way through any game whenever he sat to the right of the dealer. No one wanted to see him in Sickbay, but his absence gave the rest of them a chance for a change.

Data and Tasha were absent too. But on a normal night, their presence only increased the tension in the game. Aside from Tasha, no one had ever figured out Data's tell. They assumed he didn't have one. His stoic expression made him harder to read than Worf.

And Data's ability to analyse the micro expressions in the faces of his comrades gave him quite an advantage.

Tasha was a human tricorder when it came to determining intention. She could anticipate and often correctly interpret just who was bluffing.

Given his recent win of the bet with Miles, Geordi was feeling like Lady Luck was on his side.

"I'll raise you," Geordi said as he tossed his chips into the pile in the centre of the table.

Riker cocked an eyebrow at the Engineer.

"That's not like you Mr Always Plays It Safe," Riker teased.

"I'm feeling lucky," Geordi replied, flashing him a broad smile.

-X-

Lady Luck was indeed with Geordi that night. He couldn't help but smirk as he discarded the three of diamonds only to draw the ace of spades.

"You really are feeling lucky," Riker remarked.

"You have no idea," Geordi replied.

It wasn't like Geordi to stay for so many rounds. Nor did he usually end the night with such a large stack of chips.

Riker chuckled.

"I take it things are going well with Ensign Gomez then?" Riker inquired.

"Yeah," Geordi responded nonchalantly.

"But?" Riker prompted.

There had been a slight pause before Geordi responded – almost like he was covering something.

"Nothing," Geordi replied honestly. "Things with Sonya are great."

"You're hiding something and it's not just a good hand," Deanna observed.

-X-

Jean-Luc was taking a late-night stroll through the ship before settling down for the evening with a good book. He was still trying to cope with the sense of loss he felt about Aldea.

Well, not just Aldea.

Late at night when the corridors were sparse, Jean-Luc could wander his ship in peace – though his mind was in turmoil.

Command of the Enterprise was the job of a lifetime. He had a fine ship and a talented crew. This assignment offered him the opportunity to exploration the universe, push the boundaries of science.

Exploration was his calling.

But Jean-Luc couldn't shake the thoughts of the road not taken.

Aldea had not just renewed his sense of regret at setting archaeology aside – it was a reminder that he had made the choice to forgo having a family of his own in pursuit of his career as a Starfleet Captain.

While he thought of his crew as a sort of found family, Jean-Luc knew he couldn't allow himself to get too close. It ran the risk of limiting his ability as a commander.

He had a certain degree of professionalism to maintain if he wanted his leadership to be effective.

Yet as they approached their third year together as a crew, Jean-Luc was having a difficult time not thinking of these people as his family.

Jean-Luc needed a distraction.

His feet carried him to Data's door.

Many people found Data to be dull. But Jean-Luc appreciated their conversations. The two met weekly for a game of chess and discussed literature and wine.

It offered Data the opportunity to learn more about the cultural traditions of Earth and Jean-Luc had someone that could keep up with his keen mind.

A game of chess a bit of Thoreau and Jean-Luc would be ship shape in Bristol fashion in no time.

-X-

Just on the other side of the door, Data and Tasha were using their night alone to work through a matter they knew would take time.

"I'm just saying you don't have a window!" Tasha protested.

"May I remind you it takes eight minutes to traverse the distance between your quarters and my workstation," Data countered.

Data, Tasha, and Deanna had all agreed that the first real test of their commitment to one another would be in officially sharing quarters.

While Data and Tasha spent more nights than most together, they still maintained their own separate spaces.

And though two agreed that moving in together was the natural next step, they both had their reasons for wanting their own quarters to become 'home.'

Tasha's quarters were bigger – and they featured a window.

Data had a much nicer lavvy with a bigger bath (a hot commodity on a starship) but nearly a third of his space housed his workstation.

It was essential for all the work he had to do in his various roles. Data was often found at his workstation.

If he were to move into Tasha's quarters, Data's current quarters would become the Second Officer's office – he'd already cleared that part with Commander Riker.

He wouldn't lose his workstation. But the bedroom and lavvy would be repurposed.

More than that, this was the first time Data had every really had a 'home.' He had made his quarters into his own with his art and design choices.

Though spartan, it was his.

They were halfway through debating the merits of efficiency when Tasha blanched.

The pair paused as she was overcome with a fresh wave of nausea.

Tasha put a finger up and indicated she would back momentarily.

No sooner had she stepped out of the main room when the door to Data's door chimed.

"Captain?" Data said, surprised by Jean-Luc's appearance at his door.

"Good evening, Data," Jean-Luc replied.

Data stepped back and ushered the Captain inside.

"Would you like a beverage or a place to sit?" Data inquired as he motioned to the replicator.

Data was dressed for bed, sporting a pair of loose drawstring trousers and a grey cotton shirt on his lithe frame. His hair was slightly mussed.

And for the first time, Jean-Luc saw Data's bare feet – ten toes complete with toenails and so human.

Right down to the small curve on his fourth toe.

"Sir?" Data prompted.

"I came to see if you were up for a game of chess. I've got a '39 Vulcan red blend," Picard offered.

Data blinked a few times. The offer was tempting, but he felt his place was at home with Tasha.

"Thank you, sir. That is a kind offer. But I am afraid I have other obligations this evening," Data replied.

Jean-Luc clasped his hand to his forehead.

"I completely forget. This is your poker night with the team! I'm sure you are preparing," Picard said.

He knew his senior officers met weekly for a rotating poker game. There was always a standing invitation for Jean-Luc, but he'd been reluctant to accept.

It was just too informal for his sense of propriety.

Seeing how Data was so casually dressed, Jean-Luc was doubly glad he had opted to pass on the invitation.

"It is, sir," Data nodded. "But I have chosen to skip this evening."

Data glanced over at the door to his bedroom and then back to the Captain.

"Lieutenant Yar and I are having a discussion on a topic of great importance," Data said in a low voice.

Jean-Luc's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh. Oh I see," he said.

He felt terrible for interrupting such a personal, domestic evening.

"I'll just catch you another time," Jean-Luc said.

Before he could turn to leave, Tasha emerged from behind the door. She was completely oblivious to the Captain's presence in Data's quarters.

"In any case, there's no room in here to run around!" Tasha said.

She liked to push the furniture back in her own quarters and work out. She couldn't exactly run, but it was enough space for some high-intensity aerobics.

Tasha stopped and turned to the back wall.

She signed.

Tasha couldn't stand the thought of having to give up their nights curled up under her window with a good story.

"And I'm still stuck on the fact there's no window. It's just not the same reading a story before bed when you can't look at the stars," Tasha lamented.

Room to run around?

Bedtime stories?

A matter of importance indeed! Picard thought.

Data could read the Captain's unease in his body language.

"I apologise, Captain. We were planning to inform you at a later date," Data said. "Once we had formalised things."

Jean-Luc couldn't help but laugh uncomfortably.

Tasha froze and spun around.

"Captain?" she said in shock.

Tasha crossed her arms and regretted that she wasn't wearing her dressing gown. Like Jean-Luc, she shared a sense of propriety.

Tasha was mortified she was in the presence of the Captain in an old Parrises squares t-shirt and sleep shorts.

Jean-Luc interpreted this discomfort as a natural response from the Lieutenant. He knew how private Tasha was – it was one of the things he admired about her.

And he could only imagine how embarrassing it would be to have such news break before they were ready.

"Sir-" Tasha began to say.

She exchanged a worried glance with Data.

Data knew the minute word got out that all of their friends would want to chime in with their opinions. This was a matter Data and Tasha needed to resolve – and preferably complete – on their own before announcing it to their friends.

"My lips are sealed," Jean-Luc assured them.

"We appreciate your discretion, sir," Data replied.

-X-

Down at the poker game, things were going about as well as expected. Geordi had cleaned out Deanna and Worf wasn't far behind.

Beverly was holding her own while Commander Riker's pile of chips had grown considerably slimmer over the course of the evening.

Beverly's combadge pinged.

"Sickbay to Doctor Crusher," Lieutenant Adams's voice rang out.

"Crusher here," she responded.

"Sorry to interrupt your evening, but you requested the results from the lab right away," he explained.

Beverly set her cards down, her attention now completely fixated on the conversation.

"Lieutenant Yar?" Beverly asked.

"Yes," Adams responded.

Unbeknownst to the rest of the table, Adams was listing off all the results that had come back from the lab – including those from the expectant Lieutenant Juarez.

Beverly understood. But no one else around the table did.

"Yeah, I've got bloodwork on Yar. And it looks like the gestational diabetes screening and the preliminary foetal scan results," Adams reported.

Beverly had been expecting those results in the morning, but it seemed the lab must have shot them back with Tasha's results.

"I think you're going to want to get down here right away," Adams advised.

He could see that Tasha's white blood cell counts were off the charts – a sign that her body was fighting infection.

"Acknowledged. On my way," Beverly answered.

She laid her cards down on the table.

"Duty calls," she said.

Geordi watched as she left. He seemed completely dazed.

I think you're going to want to get down here right away.

Geordi didn't know much about antenatal care. But he had heard the concern in Lieutenant Adams's voice.

And it didn't sound good.

"Geordi?" Riker asked.

It was the third time he had repeated his name in an effort to get Geordi's attention.

"Geordi what's wrong?" Deanna asked.

Geordi turned his attention back to the table. He recognised whatever Data and Tasha were going through was their business.

It wasn't his place to say anything.

And yet, they were the closest of friends. If something was wrong, then they would need support.

Worf was the first to piece it together.

He tipped his head to the side and studied Geordi's reaction carefully.

Worf glanced at the door and then back to Geordi.

"Geordi, do you mean?" Worf trailed off.

Deanna clasped her hand over her mouth, sensing their concern.

"Oh my gods," she exclaimed.

Riker frowned.

"Somebody mind filling me in?" Riker asked.

-X-

An hour later, Deanna and Riker were mindlessly chomping on a bowl of popcorn as Geordi recounted the information he had.

Riker shoved another fistful of popcorn into his open mouth as he listened to Geordi lay out a tale that had been carefully pieced together from snippets of information.

"And then Doctor Crusher said they hadn't decided on any names yet but that it would be sooner than they thought," Geordi shared.

"But how do you know she was talking about Data and Tasha?" Deanna asked.

"She was right there! She had just finished up an appointment with Doctor Crusher," Geordi explained. "Coming out of a private appointment."

"You've got to admit there might be something to this," Riker said, turning to Deanna.

Deanna felt conflicted.

She was keenly aware – more so than any of them – just how much Data wanted to have a family.

Someday.

She wanted to push back against Geordi's theory. But Deanna knew most of her information on the subject came from her counselling sessions with Data and Tasha. It wouldn't be appropriate to share what she knew with the others.

"Well, until I hear from them, I'm not going to make any assumptions," Deanna advised.

"Counsellor, Data's getting what he's always wanted. And I don't exactly know how. But I know that they're probably feeling excited and more than a little terrified," Geordi said.

Geordi paused. He leaned forward and rested his arms on the surface of the table as he scanned the room.

"We need to be there for them - even if they aren't ready to announce anything," he said with determination.

"What are you suggesting?" Riker inquired.

"Tasha values her privacy. She will not appreciate intrusive questions," Worf commented. "The yatlh is a most challenging time. The true test of a warrior."

Riker looked confused.

"Pregnancy," Deanna explained.

She had a knack for languages and Klingon was no exception.

"Alright, but we need to be discreet," Riker agreed.

-X-

The next morning when Data arrived at his lab, he was surprised to discover that the morning's quality check was already complete.

Most unusual. Data thought.

Each morning, the Chief Operations Officer was responsible for a quality check. It involved skimming the overnight reports to ensure the Engineering, Operations, and Tactical divisions were all prepared and staff, equipment was functioning without issue, and that any planned maintenance cycles were reported to the Captain.

It was one of Data's primary responsibilities.

"Morning," Geordi said as he stepped into the lab.

"Good morning, Geordi," Data replied. "Why did you complete the morning quality check on my behalf?"

"I figured you could use a break with T not feeling well and all," Geordi replied.

Data was confused.

Was he now expected to do something in return for Geordi?

"Don't overthink it," Geordi instructed as he clasped Data's shoulder.

-X-

Tasha strolled into the Security officer shortly after 07:00 with a fresh cuppa Raktajino in hand.

Worf balked.

"Hey," Tasha said as she entered.

She stopped as she saw the surprised look on Worf's face.

"You alright?" she asked.

"You are drinking Raktajino," Worf frowned.

Tasha was dumbfounded. Of course she was drinking Raktajino. It was her usual way to start the day – a habit Worf had gotten her hooked on during the course of their friendship.

"Uh huh," Tasha replied slowly.

"Is that wise?" Worf asked.

Worf knew little about human pregnancy. However, Klingon women often limited their caffeine intake – often forgoing it altogether for the duration of their pregnancy.

Tasha made a face.

While the two often engaged in playful, teasing banter, it was unlike Worf to be so serious about something as precious as her morning Raktajino.

"It is if you want me to be alert for the day," Tasha replied, choosing to brush off the comment.

She sat down at her desk and booted up the overnight report.

Tasha stopped reading and looked up. She felt like Worf was watching her.

"What?" Tasha asked.

Worf panicked. He needed an excuse.

"I have something better. A new herbal tea," Worf suggested.

"Are you still on about the Raktajino? Has there been some devastating side effect of coffee discovered in the last twenty-four hours?" Tasha demanded sarcastically.

"I do not believe it is wise," Worf repeated.

Tasha's eyes narrowed.

"Why?" she asked as she took another sip.

She did it deliberately to see how he reacted.

"Training. Yes, training," Worf stammered. "The tournament is coming up. You want to perform to the best of your abilities."

A pained expression fell upon Tasha's face.

"Yeah. The tournament," she said in a gloomy voice.

Worf kicked himself internally.

You fool! Worf thought.

Obviously, Tasha would no longer be competing in the sparring tournament. Worf knew just how important it was to her. He theorised this was likely as sore spot. He recognised it was possible to both want a family and simultaneously feel regret for the activities one would have to sacrifice.

Tasha had only spoken with Beverly about the tournament in passing.

Beverly was still waiting for more information. She was reluctant to proceed with a surgery. Tasha was worried that it would be just her luck that this would flare up again right before the tournament. If the surgery was too close, there was no way Beverly would clear her to participate.

"Do you wish to talk about it?" Worf offered.

"Not really. But thanks," Tasha said.

She reached for Raktajino.

Worf realised that his excuse meant nothing if she had withdrawn.

Thinking fast, he knocked the cup off the desk.

"My apologies," Worf said as he made to pick up the shattered ceramic mug.

It was clear that Worf had done that on purpose.

But for the life of her, Tasha couldn't figure out why.

-X-

On his way to the morning briefing in Main Engineering, Data ran into Commander Riker on the lift.

He flashed Data a big smile.

"Bridge," Data ordered.

There was a familiar hum as the lift resumed, zipping along decks on its way the top of the saucer section.

Using his peripheral optical receptors, Data could see that Commander Riker was still grinning – and occasionally glancing over at Data.

Riker's hands were clasped in front of him. He was having a difficult time remaining still as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Riker was practically giddy.

"Sir?" Data inquired as he turned to Riker.

"Hi Data," Riker said. "Beautiful morning, isn't it?"

"Is there something special about today?" Data asked.

He quickly scanned through his information database and determined there were four birthdays, two anniversaries, and one promotion. There was a small gathering scheduled later in the astrogeology lab to commemorate the discovery of tungsten in some of the asteroid core samples they had obtained during the mapping mission.

All in all, it was a regular day.

"Data, I just want you to know that I'm here for you. Whatever you need," Riker said as he gripped Data's shoulder.

"Thank you, sir," Data replied in a tone that was part gratitude and part confusion.

"I mean it. Anything. You're my friend, Data. And I am so ready to be there for you. You just say the word," Riker went on.

"Thank you," Data responded slowly.

Data's brow furrowed. He quickly ran an internal scan to ensure that he was truly on the lift and not experiencing his dream programme.

When he reached deck 15, Data stepped off the lift and looked back in confusion as Riker was waving at him like an idiot.

Before starting her shift on the Bridge, Tasha stopped off at Ten Forward to grab a fresh cuppa Raktajino.

She had initially tried at the canteen on deck 14 – only for Chief O'Brien to tell her the replicator was down.

Tasha was more than a little suspicious about this excuse. The canteen was packed. But she didn't want to argue. So instead, she headed off to the one place where she knew it wouldn't be a problem.

"Are you sure? I've got something I want you to try," Guinan said.

"Is there some grand conspiracy on this ship to stop me from drinking Raktajino?" Tasha asked.

Guinan put her hands up in the universal sign of surrender.

"Hey, you want a Raktajino, then I'll be sure you get one," Guinan assured her.

"Sorry, I guess I'm just on edge," Tasha apologised.

She hadn't meant to snap at Guinan. But the lack of sleep, constant pain, and loss of appetite had left Tasha with frayed nerves.

"Don't apologise," Guinan said.

She set a warm, fresh cup down in front of Tasha.

"I know what you're going through. How it is," Guinan said.

She pointed at her stomach and winked.

"But I do want you to try this. It will help with the nausea," Guinan said.

She poured Tasha a glass of a lavender looking liquid.

Tasha shrugged and downed it in one go.

Guinan smiled as she watched Tasha's reaction. It the effect of almost instantaneous relief. Tasha visibly relaxed her shoulders, her jaw unclenched, and her stomach had settled.

"Wow," Tasha said, astounded.

There was still pain. But Tasha was grateful the queasy stomach was gone. It even made her feel more relaxed, almost like slipping into a hot bath.

And it tasted sweet – like a blend of honey and lavender.

"What was that?" Tasha asked.

"I call it my Sweat Pea Potion," Guinan explained.

Guinan stopped and leaned against the bar.

"I've got a whole thermos of it for you. If you want it," Guinan offered.

"Really?" Tasha asked.

Guinan nodded.

"I don't know what to say. Thank you," Tasha said in earnest.

"Well, I had an inkling when I saw you the other night," Guinan said as she gave Tasha's hand a squeeze. "And you need more, you just let me know. I've been there and done that."

"Really? You too?" Tasha repeated, surprised to hear this.

There was so little known about Guinan's people that Tasha figured it certainly was possible she had possessed an appendix too at one point.

It felt nice to know she wasn't alone.

"Uh huh. Thirty-eight times," Guinan shared.

Guinan excused herself to go grab the rest of her brew for Tasha.

Thirty-eight? Tasha mouthed in disbelief.

She would have to make a point of asking Beverly about that.

"Once you grow the first one it's not long before you start thinking about the next," Guinan said.

Tasha's eyes went wide with alarm.

They regrow?

"Guinan, um, h-how long between, um, you know, did you have?" Tasha stammered.

Guinan shrugged.

"The longest gap was about seventy years," Guinan answered. "The shortest was eighteen months."

She laughed softly and shook her head.

"It's a little different for humans," Guinan said.

-X-

Over the lunch hour, Data had stopped off at his quarters. With Tasha's suppressed appetite, they found it much more comfortable to eat alone together.

There were fewer questions.

The door to his quarters slid open and Data stepped inside to discover a lovely bouquet of flowers on the table.

Curious. He thought.

It was a beautiful arrangement with a vibrant mix of colours and styles. There were bright orange-yellow Barberton daisies in a bed of pink roses and pale periwinkle lisianthus. Tying it all together was a smattering of soft white baby's breath.

There was a simple card attached.

From Keiko and Miles. All our love and support.

"Ah! A get well soon gift," Data said aloud.

It was a human custom to send plants when someone was feeling ill or undergoing a medical procedure.

The symbolism of the bouquet (which had been carefully designed by Keiko) was lost on Data. He wasn't looking for any extra meaning.

Data stepped over to the replicator and produced a meal for their lunch. While Data was keen to continue working through his wish list of meals, he wanted to be supportive of Tasha.

Tasha lived for food.

Her suppressed appetite had begun to take a mental toll. Data imagined it was difficult for her to watch him eat all sorts of wonderful things while she was stuck trying to stomach the likes of plomleek soup and porridge.

Tasha arrived a moment later, clearly lost in thought.

"Tasha?" Data asked.

"Sorry," she replied absentmindedly.

She flopped down at the table and frowned.

"Data, have you noticed anything weird today?" Tasha asked.

Data cocked his head as he considered her question. 'Weird' was a dangerous word on a starship. Webster's Twenty-Fourth Century Dictionary offered a total of six different definitions for the word in use as a noun, adjective, verb, and present participle.

Data decided it would be best to narrow the parameters before responding.

"Could you be more specific?" Data requested as he set two bowls of tomato soup on the table.

"I dunno exactly. People have just been acting weird today. Strange," Tasha tried to explain.

"Now that you mention it, I did have an unusual encounter with Commander Riker on the turbolift," Data said. "While well intended, it was odd."

As he recounted their interaction, Tasha began to realise what was going on.

Or so she thought.

Tasha hated to be the centre of attention – particularly when it involved things that were a reminder of her outsider status.

She didn't much care for questions about Turkana and she surmised if word got around about her appendix then everyone must be buzzing with the discovery.

"Perhaps this will lift your spirits? Miles and Keiko sent you a lovely bouquet of flowers," Data said motioning to the left.

For the first time since entering the room, Tasha noticed the arrangement.

She let her head drop back and groaned.

-X-

As the afternoon rolled on, the rumour mill was in full spin across the ship.

Two people in the corridor stopped Tasha to ask how she was doing.

"I never would have guessed," Lieutenant Olivet said. "I just heard. You look great! Positively glowing."

"Uh, thanks," Tasha said awkwardly.

Data's afternoon wasn't much better. Whenever he tried to do anything, Geordi swung in and attempted to do it himself.

"Geordi, may I be frank? I wish to tell you something as a friend," Data inquired.

Geordi's heart skipped a beat.

"Yes?" Geordi prompted.

This was the moment he had been waiting for. Geordi had spent nearly two hours in front of the mirror rehearsing just what to say. He had an entire speech prepared and had been up half the night making plans for a party.

"Geordi, please stop trying to do my job. Or I will begin to think you are out for it," Data said.

-X-

"I said subtle!" Deanna fumed.

She threw up her hands in frustration.

"You're a menace!" Deanna huffed.

Riker shrugged innocently.

"This is not subtle. This is exactly the opposite of subtle! You do know what the word subtle means, right?" Deanna demanded as she gestured to the table.

"Counsellor, all of this was carefully planned," Geordi said.

"We haven't given anything to them yet," Miles protested.

"That's not the point!" Deanna exclaimed. "The minute you do, Data and Tasha are going to feel like they've lost control of their situation."

While she recognised the guys meant well, she knew this didn't bode well.

"They will tell us if and when they are ready to," Deanna asserted.

"Just as well," Worf agreed. 

It would take him three months to complete the q'ut ghu he was making for Tasha.

A q'ut ghu was a child's first protection in the world and it was customary for a Klingon's best friend or blood brother to gift such an item upon the birth of a child.

It was not simply a baby blanket – it was a promise of protection.

Deanna felt like she was talking to a wall as she stared at the four men.

They were assembled in Riker's quarters and had wanted Deanna's opinion on the 'care package' they had designed.

"I know you mean well, but this is totally inappropriate right now," Deanna explained.

After Doctor Crusher's disappearance during the poker game, there was a cloud lingering over the excitement.

Geordi was concerned there was something wrong and wanted to offer Data and Tasha some reassurance.

So with the help of Commander Riker, Miles, and Worf, the guys had put together a 'care package' for the couple – there were herbal teas, massage oils, bath salts, music programmes designed to soothe the nerves, and a variety of candles Riker had picked up on Risa that were said to have abundant calming properties.

While all of those things were lovely, the addition of the antenatal vitamins, a 'bump' growth calendar, and baby socks had been a step too far.

"Baby socks? Really?" Deanna asked as she held them up.

"Oh Frank and the guys down in Cetacean Ops sent those," Riker said as he picked up the package. "See, they've got teeny, little baby sharks on them."

He wiggled one in Deanna's direction in an attempt to sell her on the gift.

Deanna was not amused.

"If there really is something wrong, aren't you worried this might add insult to injury?" Deanna asked the group.

Geordi's face fell.

He hadn't considered that.

"Just hold off, okay?" Deanna requested.

-X-

That evening, Tasha met Worf down in the armoury for a phaser maintenance cycle. It was an activity they both found oddly soothing as the monotony of repetitive actions allowed them to dissociate for a while.

They worked mostly in silence.

The beauty of their friendship was that they could work together in comfortable silence or exchange confidences – and both were welcome.

"You have said little tonight. Are you still in pain?" Worf asked.

"Yeah," Tasha admitted.

Worf stopped and set down the phaser he was working on.

"I mean I'm okay," Tasha assured him quickly.

Worf gave her a hard look.

"You know you can tell me anything?" Worf reminded her.

"I know. Thanks," Tasha responded.

She turned her attention back to the phaser in her hand.

The pair fell silent once more.

Several minutes passed before Tasha finally spoke.

"I guess I'm just a little scared," she confessed.

Tasha still hadn't told Data the full story. She had explained that Doctor Crusher was monitoring the situation and they would have to wait and see where things went.

She had told him it was her appendix but had not gone into detail beyond that.

There was no use worrying Data. And truth be told, Tasha was also scared to admit just how dangerous the situation was to herself.

Tasha knew Data suspected there was more to the story. But he had accepted her explanation. She had sought medical help and that was the most important thing.

"There is no dishonour in feeling that way," Worf assured her. "It is only natural given what you are facing."

Tasha chewed on the inside of her lip.

"Does everyone know?" Tasha asked tentatively.

Tasha trusted Beverly hadn't said anything – but she surmised it didn't take much for folks to piece together the information. Geordi and Miles had observed her leaving Sickbay. And there had been the incident in Ten Forward.

Tasha had always struggled with admitting when she was in pain. She surmised it was a carryover from her youth. Turkana was a world where one did not advertise a weakness in any form. Projecting strength and confidence was a matter of survival.

Even in her role as a Security Chief, Tasha recognised the importance of keeping a cool, Teflon demeanour – it inspired others and kept the rest of the crew calm in a crisis.

It wouldn't do for the Security Chief to appear vulnerable.

Tasha often joked that a good Security Chief never bled in front of her crew.

Worf could see she needed some cheering up.

"I believe there is a team from the Biochemistry Department that are currently on Starbase 16 for a conference that are unaware," Worf said dryly.

-X-

Down on the holodeck, Geordi and Data were cutting through foliage as they traversed through the rough terrain along the Amazon river.

They were exploring one of their holodeck programmes, recreating a nineteenth-century exploration of the area complete with period appropriate attire.

Data was in the lead position. He was hacking away at the dense jungle with a machete.

Thus far the two had paddled along the water collecting various holographic plant and insect samples.

Data was in heaven.

Geordi felt like he was nothing more than a walking blood bank for all the holographic mosquitos.

"We could disable the bugs next time," Geordi said as he swatted his arm.

Data stopped and turned around. He cocked his head to the side.

"But Geordi, that would sacrifice the realism of this holographic environment – an essential component to the experience," Data protested.

Geordi frowned.

"Look, I'll do the plinth hat and the swamps and even the caiman. But I am not doing the bugs again," Geordi huffed.

"Computer, end programme. Reset at Tortuga Bay," Data ordered.

The dense jungle foliage vanished and was quickly replaced by a sprawling white sand beach.

"Now this is more like it," Geordi said.

He flopped down in the sand and reached into his pack to retrieve his canteen.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke as they listened to the gentle sound of the waves.

"I do not say it often enough but thank you for indulging in my desire to use the holodeck this evening," Data said.

"Anytime, buddy," Geordi replied as he took a swig of cool water.

Data had been feeling uneasy ever since Tasha had taken ill. A few hours on the holodeck had been a nice escape.

While he couldn't completely shut out the thoughts that occupied his neural net, an evening with Geordi was a good distraction.

"Data, how are you doing?" Geordi asked, emphasising the 'you.'

"I am functioning within normal parameters," Data responded.

Geordi grumbled and fell back against the beach.

"Data. I mean how are you feeling," Geordi pressed. "Where are you at?"

Data opened his mouth to answer but Geordi anticipated his response.

"Emotionally. Where are you at emotionally?" Geordi clarified.

Data did not answer.

"Look, I'm really worried about T and you, man," Geordi said. "Is she okay? Are you?"

Geordi rolled over to his side and propped himself up on his elbow.

"I must confess that I am worried about Tasha," Data shared. "She was hesitant to seek medical assistance."

"Well, she's stubborn alright," Geordi agreed.

"Doctor Crusher has advised that she must wait and see. But I cannot help but suspect there is something Tasha is keeping from me," Data said. "I believe it is her intention to spare me from concern."

Data sat back, resting his hands in the sand as he gazed out at the water.

"Such an action has had the opposite effect," Data continued.

"I suppose you've got some time to figure it all out," Geordi said. "Although, I guess it's going to be here sooner than you think."

Data's eyes began to flit back and forth.

He wasn't exactly following Geordi's train of thought.

"Geordi, to what are you referring?" Data asked.

He presumed this was one situation in which his android nature left him at a loss for grasping the human equation. While Data understood that an appendix was no longer a component of human design, he assumed Geordi was referring to some human knowledge on the subject Data himself lacked.

"The big day," Geordi said.

Data wrinkled his brow.

"To what big day are you referring?" Data inquired.

"Daaaataaa," Geordi replied in mock aggravation.

"Geordi, as this is not something I will ever experience I am, as you would say, lost," Data said.

Geordi gestured with his hands as if to imply a protruding abdomen.

Data's eyes widened with alarm.

In all of his research on the subject of the human appendix, Data had read about the possibility of rupture. He presumed this is what Geordi was referring to.

"I believe it is Doctor Crusher's hope that this situation will resolve itself before that happens," Data replied.

"So there is something wrong?" Geordi inquired. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here."

Commander Riker's comments from earlier echoed in his mind.

"Geordi, you are the second person to express such a sentiment today. Is there something I should be aware of about Tasha's appendix? She has assured me the situation is not serious, though I suspect she is keeping something from me," Data said.

Geordi looked uncomfortable.

Did he not know?

"I-I-I'm sorry, Data. I thought you knew," Geordi apologised.

He groaned and brought his hand up to his forehead in an expression of pain.

"Deanna warned me. Oh, she warned me! Data there's a lot of reasons why a person might keep that information secret until they know more. Especially if there's complications," Geordi said.

He was rambling and Data was having a hard time following.

"I should have kept my big mouth shut. I'm sorry, Data. I really am," Geordi went on. "It's just all the stuff I overheard from Doctor Crusher and then seeing T at Ten Forward."

He shook his head.

Geordi couldn't believe he'd just blown it.

"I was up all night. I've been so worried about you two," Geordi confessed.

"Geordi, I do not believe appendicitis is as serious of a condition as you have been led to believe," Data said.

"I'm talking about the baby," Geordi clarified.

Data blinked, perplexed.

"Baby?" Data asked.

There was a pregnant pause.

"Data, Tasha's not sick. She's pregnant," Geordi said.

Geordi watched expectantly as the weight of this statement registered in Data.

"I am going to be a father," Data said in awe.

He locked eyes with Geordi.

"I am going to be a father," Data repeated.

Data's neural net began to race as he was gripped with a strange sensation. His system surged. He felt simultaneously excited, confused, and terrified.

He did not understand how such a feat was possible.

But it mattered not.

There were endless possibilities. He had experienced a plethora of changes in the last year – unlocking systems that Data had never known existed and reawakening long-dormant programming embedded in his positronic matrix.

Somehow, someway the DNA storage he possessed must have activated some sort of release mechanism.

Life finds a way. He mused.

While a portion of his neural net ran an internal diagnostic, another part began to rapidly process all available information on human pregnancy.

All the symptoms of the last few days made sense.

Data had thought it was unusual that Beverly had ordered so many follow-up tests with Tasha for 'appendicitis.'

Out of nowhere, Data's excitement transferred to panic.

Questions that Data had thoerised would take years to settle now demanded attention. They did not have the luxury of time – there were matters that needed to be resolved immediately.

"Geordi, I must go," Data said quickly.

"Congratulations!" Geordi hollered after him.

-X-

Deanna was sitting in front of her mirror, humming a tune as she brushed her hair. She was just about to turn in for the evening when her door chimed.

Deanna set down her hairbrush and threw on her dressing gown.

"Data?" she said, surprised by his presence at this late hour.

"Forgive me for calling at such a late hour, Counsellor. But I need your help," Data said.

There was an unmistakeable urgency in his voice.

"Come on in," Deanna said.

She stepped aside and waved him over to the sofa.

"What's on your mind?" Deanna asked.

She could sense that Data was experiencing emotional distress. He was overwhelmed.

"Tasha is pregnant, and I need your advice," Data confessed.

Deanna bit back a grin.

"You don't say," Deanna said as she allowed the warmth of such a notion to radiate through her.

-X-

There was unmistakable pep in Data's step as he strolled through the corridors. He exuded confidence and no small sense of excitement.

It was electric – infecting everyone he met with an aura of energy.

When he stepped into his bedroom, he found Tasha curled up on the bed. She had dozed off reading an antique book.

Data kicked off his boots and slipped into his sleep clothes. He carefully pulled the book out from under her arm. He marked the page and returned it to the nightstand.

Then he stopped.

Before climbing into bed, Data simply paused to look her over.

He watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, wandering somewhere through the mysterious human concept of dreamland.

Data resisted the urge to reach out and tuck the errant strand of hair that was hanging over her eye back behind her ear.

"Are you just going to stand there all night?" Tasha asked without opening her eyes.

Data felt a flush of embarrassment at having been caught – but he made no move to get into bed.

"You are so very lovely," Data said softly.

Tasha's eyes flew open, and she frowned.

She looked up at Data and flashed him a look of regret.

"I'm sorry. Not tonight. I can't," Tasha said.

She felt bad that their usual easy romantic routine had been side-lined by her appendix.

Data sat down on the bed.

"No, no," Data assured her. "I understand."

He gently rested his right hand on her abdomen. He knew she wasn't too keen on being touched, but Data had longed for this moment for so long.

He was desperate for some kind of connection with the offspring he had yet to meet.

Deanna had advised him that if Tasha hadn't shared this news, it was very likely for a good reason. He had no wish to rush her. He merely wanted to assure her that he was there.

With his free hand, Data reached up to cup Tasha's face.

"You never cease to amaze me," he said.

Tasha closed her eyes as he caressed her face.

"I am not attempting to solicit sexual contact. I only wish to remind you of such a fact," Data said.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and did not pull away.

"Your body requires rest," Data advised.

-X-

It was shortly after midnight when Tasha awoke with searing pain.

It was enough to make her eyes water and to rouse her from a rather pleasant dream.

She laid on her back and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting to see if it would pass. In spite of being under a temperature-controlled blanket, Tasha felt like she was burning up.

It was far too hot.

Stifling.

And that made Tasha want to hurl.

She tried to kick off the blanket and winced in pain.

Realising this was far worse than she had ever experienced, Tasha decided to bite the bullet. She reached for her nightstand with the intention of paging Doctor Crusher.

Dammit! Tasha cursed herself for leaving her combadge on the dresser.

As much as she had no desire to move, Tasha recognised that staying still would provide no relief.

No, it was time. Her condition had worsened. Tasha didn't know how she knew, but she knew her appendix had to come out.

Summoning her strength, Tasha gritted her teeth and pulled herself out of bed.

The movement was far more than she could handle. Tasha yelped and collapsed to the ground, clutching her side in agony.

Data was up in a flash. The noise had roused him from his rest programme.

For 1.4 seconds Data froze. He was completely immobilised with fear.

Something is very wrong. Data thought.

He closed his eyes and tried to stop his mind from running through all the possible reasons why Tasha would be in so much pain.

None of them were good and thinking about them would not get Tasha help any faster.

Sickbay. Data settled on.

He did not hesitate.

Data swiped his combadge off his nightstand and affixed it to his cotton undershirt.

Against her protestation, he scooped Tasha off the floor as he paged Doctor Crusher.

Tasha howled with pain at being jostled.

Data was moving fast – faster than any human could.

"I'll send a medical team," Beverly replied in a sleepy voice.

Data's hail had awoken her from a deep sleep.

"There is no time. We will meet you in Sickbay," Data replied as he rushed out of the room.

-X-

Data's long legs were moving fast as he raced for the nearest turbolift.

"Data. Data, stop. Please," Tasha grimaced.

She wanted to walk slowly. It would take longer, but it would be much more comfortable than being carried.

"I apologise for the discomfort, but I must get you to Sickbay," Data said firmly.

"I know that, but I'd rather walk if you don't mind," Tasha replied through a tightly clenched jaw.

Data paused just in front of the lift as they waited for it to reach their floor.

Before Tasha could speak, the lift door opened, and Data stepped inside.

To Tasha's relief, Data set her down on her feet.

"Let's just take it easy," Tasha panted.

But Data did not want to 'take it easy.' During the forty-three seconds it took to reach the lift, he had run through all known first-trimester pregnancy complications and cross-referenced them with Tasha's symptoms.

"We must reach Sickbay quickly," Data said. "I have calculated with a ninety-four point eight percent accuracy that the pain you are experiencing is caused by a fertilised egg that has implanted in your right fallopian tube."

Although Tasha had been abruptly awoken and was having trouble processing words, she was fairly certain Data was making no sense.

"However, Doctor Crusher should be able to safely extract and reimplant the embryo," Data said.

He paused and dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment as he collected his thoughts. Resolved that it would be best to discuss the matter openly, Data lifted his eyes and met Tasha's eyes.

"Unless you did not mention this before because it is your intention not to opt for reimplantation," Data said.

In the short time between waking up and stepping onto the lift, Data had considered this was a possibility. It would certainly explain why Tasha had left him in the dark. She likely wanted to spare his feelings.

Tasha was certain her brain was broken. Nothing made sense. She was in so much pain she surmised she must be hallucinating.

"I will support you in whatever you decide," Data said as he squeezed her hand.

"Data, no offense, but what the hell is going on?" Tasha demanded.

She closed her eyes and hissed, using the wall to steady herself as a fresh wave of pain radiated out from her appendix.

Data was at her side in a flash. Tasha was clutching her side. She felt Data's hand cover her own.

"Your ectopic pregnancy," Data said. "As I said, I will support you in whatever you-"

"What?" Tasha asked as her eyes flew open.

Did he just say pregnancy?

"Pregnancy?" Tasha repeated slowly as she tried to wrap her head around the notion.

"Yes, I am aware you are pregnant," Data shared.

"Computer halt," Tasha ordered.

"Computer, resume," Data said, countermanding her order. "Regardless of your choice, you require medical assistance."

"Computer belay that order," Tasha managed to choke out.

Data looked panicked.

"Data, take a deep breath," Tasha said.

"I do not breathe," Data replied automatically.

"Then copy me," Tasha said as she squeezed his hand.

She took a slow, deep breath in and then released it. Tasha repeated this until Data's processing slowed.

The irony that she was the one with a medical emergency was not lost on either of them.

"Data, I'm not pregnant," Tasha said slowly.

Data cocked his head to the side.

"You are not?" he asked.

"No," Tasha shook her head.

The corner of her mouth began to curve upward. She covered the first laugh with a cough. But it was to no avail.

She was quickly overcome with laughter. It hurt. There was an immense pain as her body shook apart in a fit of giggles.

It was all too absurd.

"You are not pregnant," Data said.

His eyes unfocused as he processed this.

"You are not pregnant," Data repeated.

Data reached up and cupped her face.

"You are not pregnant," he said.

"No," Tasha smiled.

Though Data dreamed of starting a family and had been thrilled at the news, he felt lighter knowing that it had all been a misunderstanding.

"I am sorry. I should not be reacting this way. But I find that I can only describe this sensation as relief," Data confessed.

It felt strange to admit that given his fixation on the matter.

But Data truly did feel like the pressure of the last several hours had evaporated.

There were so many things he wanted to do in preparation for a child that he had felt overwhelmed by the prospect of a surprise pregnancy.

"Then we have time," Data said.

"We have time," Tasha replied as she held his gaze.

They shared a slow, tender kiss.

"It was all a misunderstanding. Quite humorous in retrospect," Data said.

"I hate to ruin the moment, but I think this misunderstanding is about to burst," Tasha said.

-X-

Miles had been in Sickbay for a quick treatment with a thoron generator. As his burns healed, they were turning itchy.

After a few hours of tossing and turning, he'd gone to Sickbay to see if there was anything they could do for him to help him sleep.

He was in the corner on a cot when he spied Doctor Crusher fly in sporting her dressing gown and a fire in her eyes.

"I need an emergency surgery prep in room one," Crusher ordered.

Doctor Selar was the overnight duty officer. She quickly set to work assembling a team and making the necessary preparations as Doctor Crusher scrubbed up.

"Ruptured?" Lieutenant Adams asked as he grabbed the necessary equipment.

"I won't know until I get in there. But it's possible," Beverly replied.

Ruptured? Miles thought with alarm.

A moment later, Data and Tasha stepped into Sickbay. She was walking – but clearly in pain.

"Oh no, no, no," Miles breathed as he watched them slowly make their way inside.

Beverly rushed over with a tricorder and scanned Tasha's abdomen.

"And the pain is worse?" Beverly asked.

"Yeah. I'd say it's worse," Tasha replied.

She didn't mean to be terse – but the pain was so bad she wanted to faint.

"Through here," Beverly said as she escorted them into the surgical wing of Sickbay.

As soon as the room was empty, Miles tapped his combadge.

"O'Brien to La Forge," Miles said.

-X-

Jean-Luc was out for a midnight stroll when he saw Geordi stumble out of his quarters and rush off down the corridor.

"Mr La Forge?" Picard called after him.

"Captain!" Geordi said as he whipped around.

"Where's the emergency?" Picard asked.

Geordi froze.

"Forgive me, but the sight of my Chief Engineer rushing off in the dead of night begs the question," Picard explained.

"Everything's fine, sir," Geordi responded.

It was evident the Captain was not convinced by his answer.

"That is, everything is fine with the ship, sir," Geordi clarified. "I just have something personal I must attend to."

Geordi nodded and tried to back away, but Jean-Luc wasn't prepared to let him go that easily.

"Do you require assistance, Geordi?" Jean-Luc asked.

"I'm fine. I just need to be there as a friend right now," Geordi replied.

The two fell silent as Geordi pleaded silently for permission to go.

"Sir, I really need to go. This is very important. Da-" Geordi stopped himself. "A friend needs me."

"Data," Picard realised aloud.

Jean-Luc's eyebrows shot up.

"The baby," he whispered.

Geordi's face said it all.

"I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, sir. I just wasn't sure-" Geordi stammered.

"It's quite alright. Mr Data asked for my discretion," Picard replied.

"Well, they're in Sickbay right now and I need to be there," Geordi said.

"Go," Picard ordered.

With a short nod, Geordi scurried off.

Jean-Luc tapped his communicator. The hour was late but there was work to be done.

"Number One, I need you to rework the duty roster to cover absences for Lieutenant Commander Data and Lieutenant Yar," Picard said.

A few seconds passed before Jean-Luc tried again.

"Number One?" Jean-Luc said in a loud voice.

-X-

Across the ship, Will Riker startled and sat up in bed.

He glanced around and tried to get his bearings.

"Number One," Picard's voice rang out from the communicator on his nightstand.

Squinting in the dark, Riker fumbled around as he attempted to find the combadge.

Their size was convenient for day use on the job. It was a pain in the arse when one tried to find it overnight in the dark.

"I need you to rework the duty roster to cover absences for Lieutenant Commander Data and Lieutenant Yar," Picard explained.

Will felt along the surface of his nightstand until his hand closed around the small, metallic object.

"Number One?" Jean-Luc repeated.

"Aye, sir," Riker responded.

-X-

At 01:39, Data stepped out of the surgery wing and into Sickbay.

Beverly had advised she would need to keep Tasha overnight to monitor the situation. Data had been tasked with grabbing more appropriate sleeping attire and Tasha's tablet.

She wasn't not prepared to spend the night in Sickbay in a pair of cheeky shorts without anything to occupy her mind.

Data stopped as soon as he reached the main room of Sickbay.

"Data," Geordi said as he stepped forward.

He'd been unable to sit down since he heard the news.

Deanna and Captain Picard were sitting in the corner. Commander Riker was doing his best to stay awake. Worf had taken up a post near the door – a silent sentinel waiting for information.

Miles was seated on one of the exam tables with Keiko at his side.

"Is she alright?" Picard asked as he rose from his chair.

"Lieutenant Yar is well. They are just finishing up," Data replied.

"And the baby?" Picard inquired.

"About that," Data began to say.

Before he could answer, the door slid open behind him. Tasha and Beverly walked out from the surgery centre.

Everyone was mortified.

"Should you be walking?" Deanna exclaimed.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Tasha asked in response.

"Congratulations! You're the proud parents of a four-pound seven-ounce appendix," Beverly announced.

-X-

"And, and then when you said you were taking the first step I just assumed," Geordi laughed.

"Then we heard the medical staff talking about being six weeks along and did the math," Miles added.

He paused and made a face.

"From there it was just a matter of putting two and two together," Miles concluded.

"Two and two?" Data asked.

"Well, in this case it's more like one and one makes three," Riker laughed.

Data scrunched up his face in confusion.

"Sir, mathematically one plus one-" Data began to correct him.

Data stopped as Tasha looped her arm through his.

"In any case, I think it's kind of sweet you were all so worried," Tasha said.

A collective laugh went around the table as the team toasted Tasha's release from Sickbay and new appendix-free body.

Suddenly, Tasha's expression shifted.

"But if you ever do that again, I'm going to make you regret it," Tasha warned with mock indignation.

"Don't worry. I'll just ask next time," Geordi assured her.

"You better. It would be a shame if anyone were to hear about your competitive duck herding holodeck hobby," Tasha said coolly.

Geordi frowned.

"I don't have a...wait, what?" Geordi asked.

"Or Commander Riker's secret family on Starbase India," Tasha went on.

She turned and grinned wickedly as she set her sight on Miles.

"And who could forget the Chief's favourite baseball team, the London Kings," Tasha teased.

"You get those filthy words out of your mouth straightaway," Miles replied in a testy voice.

He took a quick sip from his pint before slamming the glass back down on the table.

"London Kings," he grumbled under his breath. "Have you ever?"

"I notice you didn't threaten Worf with any rumours," Deanna observed.

"Oh, I don't have to," Tasha replied.

She turned to Worf who was sitting to her left.

"He'll get his at the sparring tournament," Tasha grinned as she punched Worf playfully on the arm.

Data excused himself from the table and stepped up to the bar to grab another drink.

"Data, I was glad to hear things worked out," Guinan said. "It's amazing how quickly a misunderstanding can escalate."

"Indeed. In retrospect, the situation has left me feeling both amused and somewhat sad," Data shared. "It was fun to believe such a miracle was possible, even for a brief time."

He stared longing back at the table for a moment as he attempted to hang onto the feeling.

"But, as I am sure you aware, Lieutenant Yar and I are not expecting," Data said as he turned back to the bar.

"Not yet," Guinan replied cryptically.