The Complication

Conquest

Author's Note: Part two! Yay!

I want to thank my writing partner Lady_Lore for helping me to better develop my characterisation of Sela. You will notice a few themes borrowed from some of her Sela fics – namely around Sela's personality.

(Please note: We would like to make ABUNDANTLY clear that The Complication and Lady_Lore's Sela stories DO NOT take place in the same universe).

I've always felt Sela was a criminally underdeveloped character that had great potential to be a complex villain. This series explores some of that.

The bulk of this chapter is more fun for our crew. However, be aware that the end takes a dark turn to set us up for our next arc. Sela's a fascist. She's bigoted and hateful. Be warned that some of her dialogue is rather strong as Sela eschews this viewpoint.

As always, thank you for your ongoing support of this series! <3 Charlie

-X-

"Al-alright everybody. We've worked h-hard for this," Reg stammered. "And, and I know you're going to do-"

He paused and gulped. ­

"Just great," he squeaked out.

Motivational speeches weren't really Barclay's wheelhouse.

"Thank you, Mr Barclay," Picard said.

Reg froze as he felt the Captain's hand on his shoulder.

"You've been a most excellent captain," Picard said, offering the nervous Lieutenant a reassuring squeeze.

It seemed Reg's tutelage had paid off.

Jean-Luc had scored a victory for the team in the individual foil competition. Lieutenant Selar had been victorious in her match against the Yamato's Security Chief.

And Barclay the man himself had faced off against the petite (but mighty) Ensign P'kil in one of the most exciting sabre events Jean-Luc had ever witnessed.

Reg fainted upon learning he'd won.

-X-

Data and Tasha had watched the fencing events from the comfort of her quarters as they ate breakfast.

"Most interesting," Data remarked.

"Hmm?" Tasha asked through a mouthful of porridge.

"The betting authorities have downgraded our chances in the race," Data said.

"What!?" Tasha exclaimed.

She snatched the tablet out of Data's hands and grumbled as she skimmed through the morning alert from Guinan – the ship's unofficial turf accountant.

Tasha was aghast as she saw that their chances in the race had shifted from a 'Toss-up' to 'Lean Yamato.'

"I read that Lieutenant Switzer won the Academy marathon three times," Data said.

In preparation for the challenge, Data had read all of the personnel files for the opposing team's roster.

Tasha stopped eating.

"Three times?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes," Data answered. "2359, 2360, and 2361."

With her physical condition still recovering from the nanocite incident, Tasha was already worried about her performance. She was coming off an impressive match the night before. Tasha was trying to cling to the high of that victory.

But it was hard to stay focused when her body felt drained.

For the rest of the morning, Tasha prepared for her race in silence.

It doesn't all come down to you. She reminded herself.

Tasha was one of seven runners that would be competing on behalf of the Enterprise. She certainly wasn't the only one expected to contribute – but Tasha was one of the five scoring runners and was largely expected to carry the team.

Tasha closed her eyes and took a breath to steady her nerves.

Just gear up and do your best. She said to herself.

-X-

While Tasha changed into her kit, Data was out in the main room cleaning up breakfast.

He was part way through putting away the kettle when Tasha came rushing out. She began tearing the room apart in a frantic search.

"My socks! I can't find my socks!" she kept repeating.

Data was confused.

"You have a drawer full of socks," Data said.

"My race socks!" Tasha snipped as she dug under the sofa cushions.

Data didn't quite understand the significance, but he could tell they were important to Tasha. He dropped what he was doing and joined the search.

"I have to find them. I can't race without them," Tasha explained as they tossed her quarters in search of the socks.

"They are meaningful to you," Data observed.

"You can say that again," Tasha commented.

She gave up on the sofa and turned her attention to the built-in cabinet along the wall.

"I need them. They help me run better," Tasha said.

Data made a face.

"I very much doubt the veracity of that statement," Data said in a delicate manner.

Tasha stopped and turned back to him.

"I know, I know. I just... they do. It's hard to explain. I've worn them for every race I've ever entered," Tasha shared.

Data nodded in understanding and resumed his search.

"What colour are they? Do they look like your regular socks?" Data asked.

"Turquoise. And they've got little sharks on them. Like little fins on the-"

Tasha stopped talking as Data grabbed her hand.

"I know precisely where they are," Data said.

Tasha visibly relaxed.

"Come," Data said, guiding her to the bedroom.

Tasha was horrified as Data opened the garment reprocessor and produced a pair of freshly cleaned socks.

Data panicked.

"Tasha?" Data asked.

"You washed my race socks?" Tasha asked.

Her voice wavered. Her lip began to quiver.

"Was that a bad thing?" Data inquired.

Tasha really didn't want to break down. She knew Data well enough to understand he would be overcome with guilt.

But she was so worked up from the pressure of the race that she couldn't hide her distress.

"It was a bad thing," Data said knowingly.

She flashed Data a queasy smile as she reached for the socks.

"Tasha?" Data prompted.

Her hands were trembling as she slipped them on.

"I just, well, I've never washed them because it's uh, it's bad luck," Tasha said.

Data gripped her hand to stop it from shaking.

"That is a most irrational superstition," Data said. "And while I normally enjoy indulging in human customs, in this instance, I feel that your fear is unfounded."

Data was hoping to bolster Tasha's confidence.

"Data, I've never," Tasha began to say. "I mean, for ten years I've never-"

"You have not washed these socks in ten years?" Data asked.

Is this disgust? He mused.

"Why do you think they were in a sealed bag?" Tasha asked, her tears devolving to a fit of giggles.

"You will do great," Data assured her, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

"I hope so," Tasha replied.

Tasha jumped up from the bed and stretched.

"I suppose I should head over there to start my warmup," she said.

Data nodded.

"Tasha, before you go – may I ask a question?" Data inquired.

"Shoot," Tasha responded.

"Do you have any other items I should refrain from placing in the garment reprocessor?" Data inquired.

His attempt was a genuine question. He had no desire to destroy any other sentimental items.

But the manner in which Data phrased his question came across as an attempt at humour.

"What do you mean?" Tasha replied with a laugh.

"Well I do not wish to interfere with any other items, say like a t-shirt or pair of knickers," Data explained.

"Oh don't be ridiculous," Tasha replied, waving off the notion. "No one in their right mind would go about saving that."

Data blinked in confusion.

Manky socks are an heirloom? But other items of unwashed clothing are disgusting?

He didn't quite follow.

"But socks are acceptable?" Data asked, trying to wrap his head around this peculiar human custom.

"Of course they are, Data. They're race socks," Tasha answered as she headed out to the main room.

"Tasha, Tasha wait!" Data called, following after her. "Can you start at the beginning again?"

-X-

There is nothing Tasha Yar wanted more than to start at the beginning again.

As she crossed the finish line on the holodeck, Tasha knew that her performance had been lacklustre. She exchanged a warm handshake and well wishes with Commander Katopodis – captain of the Yamato running team.

Commander Riker, Deanna, Geordi, and the crew had been on hand at the finish line to congratulate Tasha.

But in Tasha's mind, finishing as the fourth runner was hardly cause for celebration.

She found a quiet corner of the holodeck and threw her hands up overhead. Tasha closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing, walking around in a small circle as she cooled down.

21:17.

The number was ingrained in Tasha's mind. She could see it on the display board whenever she closed her eyes.

It was thirty-two seconds higher than her previous average and an agonising three minutes and twenty-nine seconds higher than her best.

Most of the crew would have been pleased as punch to clock a time like that on a 5k. But for Tasha it was a bitter reminder that 'close' was still a far cry from 'former.' Regaining her former prime physique was still a long way off.

Tasha completely spaced out staring at the scoreboard that displayed their race times.

A soft tap on Tasha's shoulder brought her back to reality.

Data was standing at her side with a large canister. He looked nervous.

"I was uncertain if you had any long-standing post-race traditions. If this is not acceptable, I will not be offended," he assured her.

Data paused to look down at the drink canister in his hands.

"However in my research on the subject, I have discovered that post-run recovery hydration is a critical component," Data went on. "And after analysing the nutritional content of such beverages, I believe I have formulated the optimal beverage for both your nutritional needs and personal taste preferences."

Tasha grinned.

"You're sweet," she said.

Tasha took a hefty swig and immediately wanted to hurl. Her senses were flooded with an eclectic mix of spicy, sweet, and sour flavours.

It was chunky – and not in a good way.

But Tasha couldn't bring herself to crush Data's feelings, so she choked down the drink.

"Mmmm," she said, adding an enthusiastic nod in hopes of really selling it.

But her acting performance was hardly convincing under Data's trained eye.

"What's uh, what's in it?" Tasha asked.

"Coconut water, pickle juice, anchovy paste, oatmeal, mangos, pineapple, blueberry, yoghurt, hazelnuts, seaweed, chia seeds, habaneros-" Data began to rattle off.

He stopped as Tasha gave his arm a squeeze.

"Oh, oh that's just... grand," Tasha settled on.

Data frowned.

"You are unhappy," he noticed.

"Oh it's not the drink!" Tasha lied. "It's great! Really."

But it was hardly a satisfactory answer.

"I'm just disappointed in my race time," Tasha shared.

"Your performance was adequate," Data replied.

It was not intended as a slight. In fact, coming from Data it was high praise.

Tasha shrugged.

"I'm so exhausted. I clearly wasn't ready for this," Tasha said with dismay. "Perhaps I'm no longer the elite runner I once was. Maybe I'll never be that good again?"

She wasn't trying to beat herself up. Rather, it was more a reflection on the passing of time. Data caught on quickly.

"Ah, human ageing," Data realised with a small gasp.

The concept had always fascinated him.

"I do not mean to imply-" Data added quickly.

"I know," Tasha assured him.

On their way out of the holodeck, Tasha passed her drink to Worf.

"Recovery," she said.

Worf took a small sip to test it first.

"Delicious!" he proclaimed before slamming it.

This was not lost on Data. As they strolled off the holodeck, Data decided to broach the subject.

"Tasha, please. I will not be offended. Did you find the drink unappealing?" Data asked.

He wanted to understand what was displeasing so that he could avoid making the same mistake in the future.

"Just not really my thing," Tasha replied. "But it was kind of you."

Data nodded.

"May I ask what was unpleasant? I thought you liked those flavours," Data said.

Tasha giggled as she rested her head in the crook of Data's arm.

"I do," she answered. "Just not necessarily at the same time."

-X-­

The Enterprise team lost the 5k race to the Yamato team. It wasn't entirely Tasha's fault. The Yamato team had been at their best and they earned their win through a consistent, determined performance.

And they were aided by the fact Lieutenant Solis tripped during the last one hundred yards.

It wasn't the afternoon the team had been looking forward to. Losing the race had proven to be a double blow. It was a loss in and of itself – but it felt harder to swallow given that the whole Enterprise team had been counting on a win to make up for their loss during the sparring contest.

That event had taken place earlier in the day. As anticipated, the Yamato's Ensign Donovan had proven to be unstoppable.

Worf had finally acquiesced to Tasha's advice and agreed to allow Lieutenant Di'oma to square off against the Yamato's ringer.

For all the good it did.

Donovan had Di'oma pinned in a matter of seconds.

Worf and the other competitors fought valiantly in their own matches. But it wasn't enough to make up for the points Donovan had racked up.

It meant that by the time the afternoon rolled around, the Enterprise was down.

So Tasha used the next event to take her frustration out at the phaser range.

With the crack shot team of Worf, Tasha, Jae, and Lieutenant R'uin, a Vulcan Security officer, the Enterprise crew was able to eke out a win, racking up one more victory for the board.

It meant the two teams were still locked in a dead heat, tied 4-4 as they entered the second night of games.

Tasha's performance at the phaser rifle range had been good enough to snag top marks for accuracy and precision. However, Worf could sense that she was off her game.

As they dispersed to prepare for the evening, Worf shot her a knowing look. They had a few hours before the final two events of the day – the highly anticipated chess tournament and the far less thrilling figure skating competition.

"I'm fine," Tasha said. "Just tired."

She wasn't sure if she was trying to reassure Worf or herself.

-X-­

Wesley was seated in Ten Forward. He frowned as he studied the board. Wes took a quick glance at his opponent, Ensign Rafael, a science officer from the Yamato.

They were like a statue. Rafael had sat perfectly still throughout the match. They were entirely unbothered.

Deanna had warned Wesley that Rafael had a reputation for being unflappable.

And it seemed to hold true.

There was nothing Wesley could do that ruffled his opponent or gave the slightest hint.

"That is some poker face," Data whispered to Riker.

"You're telling me," Riker replied as they watched the match.

A bead of perspiration began to form at Wesley's temple as he studied his options. Rafael had quite literally boxed him in.

Of the choices available, none were particularly appealing.

But the clock was ticking.

Wes slid his bishop across the board where it was easily snatched by Rafael's rook.

Three moves later, Wesley knew it was a lost cause.

"Checkmate," Rafael said with a satisfied smirk.

It was the closest anyone had seen of a smile from Rafael in ages.

-X-­

Tasha rolled her shoulders and shook out her arms. She turned her head side to side as she stretched her neck.

"Nervous?" Will Riker asked as he approached.

"Nah," Tasha replied casually.

She may have waved him off, but Will could practically sense the anxious energy radiating off the ever-cool Security Chief.

"T," Riker said with a knowing look.

"Really!" she insisted. "I'm fine. Just this ridiculous costume's riding up my arse."

She grumbled as she tugged it down again before flashing Will a less than confident smile.

"I really don't see why we can't just wear our usual cold-weather jumpsuits," Tasha muttered.

She scratched at her wrist. The thin, sheer fabric of her sleeves was rather itchy. But Beverly had made an impassioned argument for why more traditional figure skating costumes would 'add to the ambiance.'

After a team vote, Worf and Tasha had lost.

Tasha felt utterly ridiculous in a glorified bathing suit with sequins. Worf had almost quit the competition. At present, he was hiding until the absolute last moment necessary.

"You're going to do great!" Will assured her.

"Hmm," Tasha replied.

"And, uh, no pressure but we really need the win," Will reminded her.

"Right," Tasha replied slowly.

She was beginning to regret drowning her sorrows in a large bowl of pho. Now all she wanted to do was vomit.

-X-­

The holodeck had been fashioned to replicate an ice rink. Across the way, Data was waiting just outside a small changing room where Worf had sought refuge from the crowd.

Data knocked on the door.

"It is nearly time," Data advised.

Worf sighed as he mentally prepared himself for the task at hand.

You can do this. Worf kept repeating internally.

It was a good thing Data was the person on the other side of the door. He simply greeted Worf in his typical manner. There were no funny looks or smart remarks.

For Worf, this was a great relief.

"Where is Lieutenant Yar?" Worf asked.

Data pointed across the rink to a spot in the corner where Tasha was fidgeting with her costume.

"She has been like this all day," Data remarked. "I must confess that I believe I am responsible. I washed her race socks."

Worf was appalled.

"I am now fully aware of the grievous nature of my error," Data added.

But as he watched his best friend, Worf knew exactly what Tasha was going through.

"This is my fault," Data said.

Worf shook his head.

"No, sir. The socks were only a mistake," Worf explained. "This is something different."

The socks may have started the day out on a sour note, but Tasha wasn't the type of person to stew on something so trivial.

Worf knew that the loss from race had gotten into her head.

"Excuse me," Worf said.

Ignoring the catcalls and whistles from the crowd, Worf made a beeline for Tasha's position.

When he arrived, she was pacing and picking at her fingernails.

"Hey," Worf said.

"Hey," Tasha replied, looking up. "Ready to get this over with?"

Worf did not immediately respond. He glanced out over the ice where Ensign Dumont was just wrapping up her singles routine.

"No one has ever seen what we can do," Worf said.

And it was true.

Figure skating was a sport Worf had grown up enjoying during his time on Gault and on Earth. He had introduced Tasha to the sport, and it was a fast favourite.

Worf and Tasha found the physical challenge thrilling. And the skills they perfected on the ice had made them both better in the sparring ring.

The two friends loved to spend time on the holodeck. It was their favourite way to kill an afternoon.

It was a running joke on the ship. No one had ever actually witnessed them skating. Sure, they had seen Worf and Tasha dip out for the day with their skates and cold weather jumpsuits.

And they'd seen them return – red nosed, frozen lashes, occasional missing teeth.

Their proclivity for the fun and dangerous had led to more than a few accidents.

Beverly swore they were actually playing hockey. In her mind, they had to be. Riker thought they were speed skating. Miles theorised it was a dangerous form of Targ-hunting.

As the speculation and rumours grew, so did the mystery that surrounded their alleged figure-skating hobby.

No one seriously considered that the stoic Klingon and ever-sober Security Chief were actually capable of such a graceful sport.

Worf smiled.

"There is a sense of satisfaction in defying expectations," Worf remarked. "I have found it is often the sweetest form of victory."

Tasha turned to Worf and smirked.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"It is a convenient oversight the rules for this event do not adhere to the current rules," Worf said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Tasha chuckled.

"Data will have my head," Tasha said.

"You have leverage," Worf reminded her. "The socks."

-X-­

There was no shortage of teasing when Worf and Tasha finally took the ice. For most of the crew, it was a comical sight – two all-business, all the time professional officers gliding about in sequins.

The Yamato's team for pairs had been two Lieutenants – a team of Andorian officers that had grown up skating on their frozen home of Andoria.

Their routine had featured a series of complex moves. They were executed with precision to the tune of a well-known Andorian classical symphony piece.

Worf and Tasha knew their own routine would be a wild swing in the opposite direction.

They certainly didn't have the same sophistication or style as the Andorians – but they were ready to pour their all into their work.

Taking up their positions on the ice, Worf and Tasha waited for their music to start. Tasha shivered. She wasn't sure if it was nerves or the temperature.

From the first note, Tasha relaxed. It was a familiar piece that Worf and Tasha had selected from one of their favourite bands.

A rock power ballad interpretation of Klingon opera was hardly standard fare for the figure skating world – but neither Worf nor Tasha had ever feared being 'the first' at anything.

Tasha let her mind go blank as she focused on the music and the feelings it evoked. Her body was an extension of those feelings.

She was aware of her posture and her place on the ice – but she could care less about the crowd.

Directly behind the glass, Data watched with rapt attention.

He was utterly captivated by every move, jump, and lift.

Three rows up, Geordi was sitting with Sonya Gomez and her cousin, Luis.

Luis was one of Tasha's Security officers and the lead singer of a band known as The Neutral Tones. The whole Security team had turned out to support their Departmental Head & Deputy.

And most of them were fans of the music.

"And the flesh of my enemies will buuuuuuuurrrn in a pyyyyyrree in the night's sky!" Luis sang at the top of his lungs.

"And the demon will feast!"

An entire section of crowd was now stomping their feet and headbanging to the heavy, distorted chords.

This was all lost on Data. He was only partially paying attention to the lyrics (a rare feat given his ability to multitask).

Data was mesmerised as Tasha came out of a triple salchow jump, landing on the back outside edge of her foot with ease.

He gasped softly as she leaned forward and reached up. Tasha contorted her body, grabbing her skate as she glided along the ice as Worf accomplished a similar feat alongside her.

The swept past the glass in unison as the team cheered.

At the top of the rink, Captain Picard and Captain Varley were watching it all unfold.

"You've got a unique crew, Jean-Luc," Varley commented.

"I wouldn't have them any other way," Picard replied.

Worf and Tasha broke apart – skating in opposite directions. From the way they moved, it was evident they were building speed for something big.

"Whoa," Miles said in astonishment.

Tasha launched herself into a backflip as Worf dropped and slid across the ice underneath her.

The Andorians were immediately up in arms. Such a move was prohibited under the Inter-Quadrant Skating Association's rules.

Tasha landed without incident and Worf was back on his feet in seconds – making it all look easy.

Their number was nearly concluded. But they had one last combination of moves in their arsenal to try and seal a victory.

Worf caught Tasha's eye, wordlessly confirming she was still game to continue. Tasha flashed him a smile.

Now or never.

Meeting up again in the centre of the ice, Worf and Tasha performed a series of expected, coordinated staples before Worf pulled Tasha up into a backwards step lift. It was a complex move and one that was sure to score high with the judges.

Data had naturally assumed this would be the pinnacle moment of their routine.

But as they came out of the lift, Worf reached for Tasha's ankle.

They skated backward in this formation for a few split seconds as Worf pulled her along the ice to gain speed.

Data froze when Worf picked up the pace and Tasha's second leg left the ice.

Tasha locked her ankles in place as Worf secured his grip. Pushing all of his strength into his speed, Worf used the momentum to spin Tasha around quite literally by her ankles.

Her head dipped low toward the ice before swinging up again in perfect rhythm with the bridge of the song.

Data thought she looked like an angel.

An angel in black sequins dancing to a heavy metal song about the destruction of Praxis.

But an angel, nonetheless.

-X-­

At this point, the Yamato team was out of their seats. Lieutenant Lawson, the team captain, had marched over to Varley to demand he put a stop to the routine.

"Lifts without hand support are banned under the Inter-Quadrant Skating Association's rules!" she protested. "They must be disqualified!"

"I'm not judging this competition, Lieutenant. If you have a problem with the rules, you need to talk to the judges," Varley pointed out.

-X-­

Down on the ice, Worf and Tasha ended their routine with a death spiral that transitioned into a triple throw lutz jump.

It was a combination move they had mastered after more than a few bruises (and missing teeth) on the holodeck.

The music ended with a final, powerful riff as they glided apart.

Worf and Tasha locked eyes with one another – panting as they caught their breath in the sharp, chilly air.

Tasha was positively glowing.

For a split second, the rink fell silent before erupting.

Unfortunately, the moment was cut short by commotion at the judging table. The Andorian team, several members of the Yamato team, and Commander Pennington were locked in a heated exchange with the head judge.

Tasha and Worf skated over to the table to join.

"That was completely inappropriate!" Lieutenant Lawson said.

"Brilliant!" Pennington praised.

Lawson shot him a look.

"But inappropriate," Pennington added quickly.

"It was not a violation of the rules," Worf said.

"What?" one of the judges asked.

The judges had been selected at random from willing volunteers. They were split four ways between civilian and crew members from both ships.

They were combing through their PADDs as they tried to determine what the rules said on the matter.

"It was not a violation of the rules," Worf repeated. "Our routine adhered to the guidelines of the competition."

This did little to sway the Yamato team.

"It's a violation of the Inter-Quadrant Skating Association's rules. Thirty-eight edition," Lieutenant Lawson said with an air of authority.

"But we're not skating under association rules," Tasha pointed out.

The judges quickly formed a huddle as they shared a hushed debate on the matter.

"Where did you learn to skate like that?" one of the Andorians asked.

"Gault," Worf answered.

The Andorian frowned.

"Gault is a farming colony," she said.

"With a lot of ponds," Worf replied.

It took the judges a full eight minutes to deliberate on the matter before making a ruling – Worf and Tasha's routine would stand.

They would not be disqualified. Given the complexity of their number, they had earned enough points to score higher than the Andorians.

"Captain!" Lieutenant Lawson whined. "Do something!"

Varley merely shrugged.

"I'm not going to ask the judges to punish these folks simply because you didn't read the rules," Varley retorted.

He tipped his head to Worf and Tasha.

"In any case, I appreciate a little creativity," Varley said.

Tasha's stomach dropped as she felt a familiar hand grasp her own.

"I'm sorry, I-" she began to apologise.

"You never cease to amaze me," Data said in earnest.

Tasha wanted to melt.

"Come on," Tasha said, pulling him away from the crowd. "I need a hot cocoa. And I need to get out of this getup and into my flannel pyjamas."

She squirmed as they slipped away to the nearest lift.

"Are you in pain?" Data asked.

"These shorts are so far up my arse they're pressing on my lungs," Tasha quipped.

Data's eyes went wide.

"Should we go to Sickbay instead?" he inquired, concerned.

Tasha fell against him in a fit of laughter.

-X-­

After a hot shower, Data and Tasha settled in on the sofa in her quarters. Data had set up the viewscreen so they could watch the final unofficial event of the evening – the baby crawl.

Beverly, Keiko, and Guinan had organised the unofficial thirteenth event of the All-Around in an effort to include many of the young families on board.

Tasha was exhausted and Data wasn't feeling much for going out. So instead they were snuggled together under an oversized blanket in their flannel pyjamas.

"Thank you," Data said as Tasha handed him a steaming cup of hot cocoa.

"Mmm," Tasha replied as she took a sip.

Tasha was in heaven the moment that first sweet sip hit her mouth. A lovely warmth had settled in her chest. She neither knew nor cared it was the glory of winning the skating competition or the taste of a cosy favourite.

"They are starting," Data announced. "Computer, please unmute."

"Now then, I want a nice clean race from all of you," Guinan said as she smiled at a row of babies.

There were eight of them in total – all lined up along the starting line in Ten Forward. Some were chewing on their feet. Others were simply staring in awe at the lights. One wee lad has his finger jammed halfway up his nose.

Next to him was an adorably rotund baby that was squirming in mum's arms.

"Raring to go," Tasha said.

"Do you wish to take a bet?" Data inquired.

Tasha turned to him and thought about it for a moment.

"Hmm, what would I win?" Tasha asked.

"How about these terms – if you win, you may select a climbing programme for us to accomplish together," Data suggested.

Tasha was always begging him to join her on the holodeck for a climb.

"Alright," Tasha agreed. "And if you win?"

Data took hold of her hand and pulled it to his lips.

"I would ask that you go skate for me. When we visit Føroyar," Data requested.

He paused to press a kiss to the back of Tasha's hand.

"We can go together," Tasha suggested.

She thought he would like the idea. Back during the circumstances of their unconventional proposal, Data had initially planned to take Tasha ice skating on Starbase 173.

Only Data didn't answer, and Tasha found herself feeling overcome with embarrassment.

"I would rather watch you," Data said softly. "I could watch you for days."

Data and Tasha had gone skating together before. But skating side by side on the ice was hardly the same as watching her perform.

Tasha's face flushed. Her flannel pyjamas were suddenly too hot. Data could sense her trepidation.

"If that makes you uncomfortable-" he began to say.

"No, no," Tasha replied. "I just-"

"I like watching you skate," Data confessed.

He pulled Tasha in close before she could make an excuse to escape.

"They are about to start. I will select Lieutenant Danver's son," Data said.

Danver's was one of the officers that served under Data in the Science division. He and his wife had a little lad that was almost two.

"He has often described him as 'rowdy' and frequently expresses frustration at having to chase him around," Data explained.

"Ah," Tasha said.

She eyed the line-up and spied her own favourite.

"Penny. You know that couple in the Geology department? She's their youngest. On the end," Tasha said, pointing to a rather plump baby with a wisp of ginger hair.

"Hmm," Data replied in the same polite tone he used whenever he was asked to offer an opinion on an uncomfortable topic.

"What? You don't think she can win?" Tasha pressed.

"She is a lovely child," Data began. "But she is much younger than the other participants."

Most of the babies in the line-up were nearly two. Little Penny was still a few months shy of her first birthday.

Regardless, she sat upright and rocked back and forth in anticipation of the race.

"Well somebody just started crawling this week," Tasha shared.

Her comment did little to sell Data on her pick.

Instead of a starting gun, Guinan simply announced the start of the race. They didn't want to frighten the children.

Parents lined the race, urging their little ones to crawl toward the finish line. Some of the children sat in place with no desire to move. Others stumbled around.

Ensign Hudson's son took off at great speed – in the wrong direction.

Data's pick had dashed out of the starting position. He was off to an early lead when he stopped mid-race for some rather urgent business.

"Oh my," Data said, observing the scene.

"Weren't counting on a mid-race pit stop, eh?" Tasha teased.

There at the end, little Penny was making slow but steady progress toward the finish line. She scooted past a squabble between the Tereshkova twins, crawled right over Ensign Richard's daughter, and scrambled past the commotion in the middle where most of the children had stopped to babble with one another.

Penny paid them no mind as she had her eye on the finish line.

Or rather – the bottle that mum had waiting at the end.

Data watched in surprise as Penny was first to cross. She kept going – crawling straight past Guinan and into the waiting arms of mum.

"How did you know?" Data asked.

Tasha giggled.

"I suppose that wasn't all that fair," she confessed. "I heard them talking while I was waiting at the rink."

"It was an impressive strategy on their part," Data admitted.

"Well, they've got three kids," Tasha replied with a shrug. "I suppose they're experts by now."

Tasha moved to reach for her cocoa and startled. She was suddenly keenly aware of how close Data was.

"We could have three children," Data said.

"Why don't we start with one?" Tasha suggested. "You can't very well watch me skate like that again if I'm carrying around a little one."

Tasha frowned as a dark thought crossed her mind.

"Tasha?" Data prompted.

She gripped his hands and pulled them into her lap.

"You know I want a family with you. Someday," Tasha started to explain.

Data braced himself for the worst.

"It's just that today was hard. Really hard. I miss being able to run and climb, hell – to skate like I used to," Tasha confessed.

Over the last year, the number of serious injuries she had sustained had taken a toll on her performance.

"I've come to realise I'm not ready to give that up. Not yet," Tasha explained. "I don't want to disappoint you and I'm sure this isn't what you want to hear right now but-"

Data silenced her with a quick peck on the lips.

"There is no need to rush," he assured Tasha. "We have the rest of our lives."

Tasha relaxed and settled back in against Data as they watched the celebration at Ten Forward – including Penny being crowned the champion with an enormous cupcake in her honour.

"Data," Tasha said softly. "I'm sorry I'm not ready."

"If the Q, my brother, Starfleet, and the Romulans could not separate us, believe me when I say that waiting does not alter my feelings for you," Data said. "They remain as strong as the moment I first knew I wanted you."

He tightened his grip, holding her just the right side of too much.

"In any case, I like watching you skate," Data added.

-X-­

The next morning, Captain Picard joined Captain Varley on the Yamato for a private breakfast. Their get together was all coordinated under the guise of two old chums sharing a meal.

The All-Around had been the perfect excuse for the two to get together.

"If we could get serious for a moment," Varley said.

"By all means," Picard agreed.

Varley set down his fork and leaned back in his chair.

"I'm concerned, Jean-Luc. Very concerned," Varley shared. "All this business with the Romulans. Now Admiral Quinn is missing?"

Varley shook his head.

"I'm sure you know he was conducting a discreet investigation," Varley said.

"What do you know about it?" Jean-Luc inquired.

It was neither an admission nor a denial. He was trying to suss out what Varley knew before answering.

Varley chuckled in response as he reached for his coffee.

"I know that we've got a problem with people disappearing, dying, or simply... changing. And I know that you know that too," Varley answered. "Quinn and Remmick were on the Yamato a month before they came to check you out."

"I see," Picard replied.

"What worries me is that we have no way of knowing who Starfleet will assign to investigate the disappearance," Varley continued. "Hell, for all we know they could be the same people responsible."

It was a sobering thought.

"My Security Chief came to me months ago with concerns about Romulan infiltration in Starfleet Command. It was after our incident along the Neutral Zone. The contagion," Picard said.

"I recall that was a nasty bit of business," Varley said.

Nasty bit of business was a criminally understated description.

"I put her off the idea. Gave her a direct order to stop investigating. I was worried that if there really was a conspiracy of some sort that we were woefully ill prepared to take it on," Picard confessed.

He had been concerned not just for Tasha's safety – but for the whole of the Enterprise as well.

"It's probably the only reason you and your ship are still here, Jean-Luc," Varley said. "There was a whole team of us that began to suspect this months ago. Do you know Rixx on the Thomas Paine?"

Picard nodded.

He knew Rixx from some previous missions during his time in the Border Wars.

"We've all been out on the Neutral Zone for years. This is our territory. We know it inside and out, how the Romulans think, the way they operate," Varley explained. "And when Rixx first approached Admiral Henry's office at Starfleet Security, they told him he was being paranoid."

It had been a risky move.

"Too many years on the Neutral Zone, they said," Varley went on. "Now the Thomas Paine's been reassigned to the other side of the quadrant. And I can tell you, Rixx has had more attempts on his life in the last year than most of us do in a lifetime."

Somebody wanted him out of the way.

"I've watched it happen – talented officers reassigned over trivial matters, outposts intentionally understaffed, our presence reduced," Varley continued. "Hell, sometimes I think my First Officer isn't the man I once knew."

Varley frowned.

"It's little things. I don't have any reason to suspect he's compromised – yet he's changed," Varley said.

As he described the situation, Jean-Luc felt a growing sense of discomfort. It was the same twinge he got whenever Guinan shared one of her mysterious intuitions.

"Henry's office and Starfleet Security can't be trusted," Varley said. "And I'll be frank, there's about a dozen people left I feel I can trust."

Varley reached for a small box at the end of the table. It had sat untouched throughout their meal. He tossed it across the table to Jean-Luc.

"What's this?" Picard asked.

"Open it," Varley instructed.

Jean-Luc carefully opened the container. There was a sharp intake of breath as he recognised the contents.

Well, he recognised the language on the contents.

It was a piece of a stone tablet with distinctive markings. Captain Picard was utterly lost for words as he traced his fingers over the rare text.

"Where did you find this?" Picard asked.

"An archaeological dig on Vissia," Varley explained.

Picard was familiar with the planet. It was a Federation member planet, M-class with a humanoid population. It was one of the larger Federation planets near the Neutral Zone.

"We found a handful of Iconian artefacts including this partial tablet," Varley said. "My team's been combing through it for the last two months and it's unlocked a world of possibilities."

He paused to take a sip of coffee and to give Jean-Luc a moment to study the object.

"That virus that rocked your ship? Iconian," Varley informed him.

"No, no. That was engineered by the Romulans," Picard said.

He had seen the DNA evidence.

"Sure, they built this one. But they learned to do it from the Iconians," Varley said. "And believe me when I say there are a whole lot of other bioengineered threats you don't want to know about. Stuff that would give even you nightmares."

"Like what?" Picard asked.

"See for yourself," Varley said, handing him an isolinear chip. "Guard that with your life."

Jean-Luc recognised the weight of such a gift. Information on Iconia was rare. Centuries of research had barely scratched the surface of the mysterious Iconians.

The Iconian people had died out more than thousand years earlier. Although they were some of the first great builders, their race remained shrouded in mystery – their homeworld lost ages ago.

"I'm giving you a copy of our research and the piece. We've already replicated a 3D model," Varley said.

"I don't know what to say," Picard responded.

"Don't say anything," Varley said, reminding him of the importance of secrecy.

Varley was reluctant to part with such a prominent find. But he knew Jean-Luc was the one person he could trust with the information. Picard appreciated the gravity of such a discovery as well as the need for discretion.

"I was hesitant to share this. But with Quinn and Remmick vanishing, I knew I needed to entrust this to someone," Varley said. "In case something happens to me."

It was far too valuable a prize. Varley couldn't risk it disappearing, or worse, falling into Romulan hands.

"If I may ask, how did your archaeology team locate this? It's unlikely they would have randomly stumbled upon such a find without some sort of hint," Picard surmised.

Varley shrugged and flashed Picard a grin.

"Let's just say a little bird tipped me off. On a whim, I decided to reroute the Yamato for quick resupply on Vissia," Varley said.

Picard quirked an eyebrow at his old friend.

"It must be some source if you can't even tell me," Picard noted.

"I promised I wouldn't divulge," Varley answered – that had been a condition of the tip.

Captain Varley had initially been sceptical when Lieutenant Commander Oh had first approached him. She was a Vulcan Security Officer that served directly under Admiral Henry.

But she had a solid reputation as an upstanding officer and had been one of the people responsible for discovering the nine Romulans spies apprehended earlier in that year.

Varley had no reason not to trust her.

And her tip had paid off. Oh had requested that Varley keep the find a secret for fear that it would fall into Romulans hands. She claimed Starfleet had uncovered a Romulan plan to send in a covert team for the items.

The Romulans had been keen to find Iconia for centuries.

Oh asserted that she had entrusted Varley in an effort to beat out the Romulans by snatching the item before they could obtain it.

Of course, Varley could share none of this background with Jean-Luc.

"Keep it safe, Picard," Varley said. "There are many of us old war horses left."

Jean-Luc couldn't quite put his finger on it, but a look of understanding passed between the two old friends.

-X-­

"Late night?" Riker asked as he slipped into the seat next to Tasha.

They were over on the Yamato crammed around a table with Miles and Sonya. The event was hosted by the Yamato crew inside their main lounge. It was the equivalent of Ten Forward. Except on the Yamato, it was known as The Zenith.

"Uh, no," Tasha replied.

Truly, it hadn't been a late night. After the conclusion of the baby crawl, Data and Tasha had retired to bed – where she promptly fell asleep.

"Good! Then you'll be all ready for the final challenge," Riker said brightly.

Tasha grinned.

"T minus two hours and fifty-eight minutes," Tasha said, checking the timepiece on her wrist.

Before they could discuss the matter further, the head event judge put his hand up to silence the crowd.

"We're about to start the trivia," he announced.

It was one of the most highly anticipated events of the entire All-Around Challenge. There were ten rounds on a variety of subjects, and each team was allotted six players.

Wesley had been appointed as team captain. In assembling his team, Wesley had tried to find a good balance of different areas of expertise.

Representing the Enterprise was a team consisting of Data, Keiko, Geordi, Beverly, Deanna, and Wesley. They were facing off against the best and the brightest that the Yamato had to offer – but Riker was confident in their ability to succeed.

"Alright, our first category is Starfleet History," the judge announced.

-X-­

Forty-five minutes later, Tasha was wishing she had ordered a whisky instead of a soda.

The Enterprise team had done alright in the first half. But they were trailing the Yamato crew by more than fifteen points.

"Don't worry," Sonya assured the table. "There's a special bonus game at the half. They'll make up the points."

Each team got to select a player for the special bonus game. Since the category was a word play game involving music and biology, the team decided Data was their best bet.

Data joined the Yamato's representative – Commander Pennington – and the head judge in the middle of the room.

"Now then, I'll give you the question. You have thirty seconds to write your answer on the tablet. At the end of the questions, we'll go through them one by one, and you will be awarded two points for every correct answer," the judge explained.

Data gripped his tablet, hands at the ready to punch in his answers. For each question, the player would be given a wordplay clue. Based on that clue, they were to name either the animal, plant, or song title.

"Alright, the clue for our first answer is 'a sense of wine'," the judge said.

A sense of wine? Data thought.

Data's neural net surged as he recalled hundreds of songs about wine, animals that were known for their innate olfactory abilities, and plants used in winemaking that were renowned for their aroma.

After a quick calculation, Data determined the odds of probability and typed in his first answer.

By the time they were done, Data was sitting in his seat with a satisfied look. He was feeling completely confident in his ability to trounce the opposition.

Data flashed the table a thumb's up after the final question.

"Now then, let's see what our contestants answered. Our first clue was 'a sense of wine.' Now, let's go to the board," the judge said.

The viewscreens lit up to reveal the two answers. The Enterprise team froze. Meanwhile, the Yamato crew's applause quickly devolved to laughter.

On the left side was the Yamato's answer – Heard It Through the Grapevine.

Data had written Pyseandrion Itslucio.

The judge blinked in confusion.

"It is a small, amphibious creature native to the Thelka cluster that is known for their keen sense in rooting out the rare, Thescuscian grape used in winemaking," Data explained.

"Ah. Well that is fascinating – but incorrect," the judge said.

"Why do I get the feeling this isn't going to go as well as I thought?" Geordi whispered out of the corner of his mouth to Beverly.

"Oh dear," she responded as the next set of answers were revealed.

Walk Like An Egyptian through Strawberry Fields Forever?

The correct answer was 'Coleoptera' – the scientific word for beetle as a play on The Beatles.

Unfortunately, this was lost on Data. Even in spite of his impressive musical repertoire, Data had been so focused on providing scientifically accurate answers that the wordplay aspect went straight over his head.

When the points were finally tallied, Data had only managed to score two points from the 'Untamed Angiosperms by Trivial Shattered Cardiac Muscle' clue.

But they were the only two points the Enterprise team scored during that special bonus round.

Data resumed his seat with the rest of the team and was feeling low. Deanna could sense his disappointment.

"Maybe don't take the questions so literally?" Deanna said, giving his hand a quick squeeze of reassurance. "Think simpler, less specific."

She was hoping to offer Data some helpful advice in order to perk him up.

-X-­

"I must apologise," Data said.

"It wasn't your fault," Deanna assured him.

On the final question of the challenge, the team had the ability to wager points. It was the only chance the Enterprise crew had to make up for their earlier losses.

They had bet it all.

Data had been so confident he knew the answer.

Unfortunately, he had taken Deanna's advice.

The answer they were looking for was 'red giant' – Data had written 'star.'

The rest of the team had offered him their support.

"It's okay, Data," Keiko said as she took his arm.

"Yeah, we can't win 'em all," Wesley said. "And we did our best."

Geordi flashed Data a grin. He chuckled as he shook his head.

"I am never going to let you forget this one," he said as he slapped Data on the back. "In any case – we'll get them in the final event."

-X-­

"Now we're going to go out there and bring this championship home for the Enterprise," Riker declared. "Because we're the best of the best – and nothing is going to hold us back!"

"Sir, your harness is on backwards," Data pointed out.

Riker stopped mid-speech and glanced down.

"Oh, thanks," Riker said.

He began to futz with his equipment.

"Here, sir," Lieutenant Jae said, stepping in. "Red goes into the red. Yellow on yellow. Like this."

"Thanks," Riker said.

He was keen – but didn't have a ton of experience. Aside from his training, Will had only ever done this sort of thing on the holodeck with Worf, Tasha, and Miles.

But as team Captain, Will felt he had an obligation to lead the team during the most daunting challenge of the entire competition.

And a competition it was.

The obstacle course was designed to test both physical and mental endurance. It started with a sledge pull, hauling a one-ton weighted sledge across an icy landscape. It was based on the simulation of Starfleet Academy's advanced cold weather survival training.

The team would drag the sledge for 2,000 metres whereupon they would shift gears – shedding their oversized cold weather suits and diving in for a 1,500-metre swim.

After that came the climb, the mud trenches, a warped wall, a thirty-metre crevasse to traverse, and other obstacles that were designed to break them.

They would have to run, jump, climb, haul, swim, and crawl through snow, water, and mud.

The holodeck scenario itself was a combination of several survival training programmes mixed with various workout programmes.

Reg Barclay had worked overtime in conjunction with a brilliant engineer from the Yamato to put it all together in time.

Two eight person teams – one from each ship – were responsible for crossing the finish line.

Together.

It wasn't a victory until the entire team crossed the finish line. And in the spirit of teamwork, all members had to finish within two minutes of each other.

They raced as a team. They claimed victory as a team.

And if they lost, it was done as a team.

Representing the Enterprise were Commander Riker, Data, Worf, Tasha, Miles, Geordi, Doctor Crusher, and Lieutenant Jae.

Data was practically giddy.

He was absolutely thrilled at the prospect of participating in a team sport. In order to participate, Data had agreed to manually override his programming, restricting his strength output to match that of an average Starfleet human officer.

Data didn't care. He was too excited.

He'd spent all morning reading up on the history of such team sports. He wanted to know the traditions and expectations of someone in his role.

"Alright, let's do this!" Riker said.

The team gave a cheer and dispersed to take up their positions in front of the sledge. Commander Riker in the lead position.

Tasha suddenly froze, completely stunned.

"Go get 'em tiger," Data said, giving Tasha a quick swat on the arse as he threw back her comment from earlier.

Tasha blinked in confusion.

Data's face fell.

"I am sorry, I read that among athletes such a practise was-" Data began to apologise in a low voice.

He stopped as Tasha clutched the front of his coat.

"You are so in for it tonight," Tasha retorted with a playful threat.

They took up their positions with the rest of the team. Data felt a wave of excitement and uncertainty as he pulled the heavy straps over his shoulders.

Tasha put on her sun goggles to shield her eyes from the vast expanse of bright snow.

"Ready?" she asked Data, flashing him a brilliant smile.

-X-­

The sledge pull left Data feeling an unusual sense of strain. It was physically similar to his experience on Minos. But unlike that mission, this sense of exhaustion left him invigorated.

The Enterprise team had run hard. Normally they wouldn't wish to expend such energy so early. The obstacle course required endurance.

But they needed to get ahead in order to make up for the loss of time on the swimming task.

Data couldn't swim – he lacked buoyancy.

It meant he had to walk across the bottom. It was a much slower task than swimming.

They shed their harnesses and winter gear, simply dropping it in place as the team stripped down to their all-weather kit.

It was quick-drying material that would help them maintain body temperature in the water and yet was light enough to complete the duration of the course.

"Alright, we've got an eight-minute lead. Let's see what we can do with that!" Riker hollered before leaping into the water.

"See you on the other side," Tasha said, giving Data's hand a quick squeeze before she dove in.

Walking along the bottom of the simulated pool was a world of difference compared to the dark, dreary lakes Data had often found himself trudging through.

It was light enough that he could see the other swimmers.

To no one's surprise, Lieutenant Jae was the first to reach the end of the water course. Geordi wasn't far behind.

In fact, everyone on the Enterprise team had made good time.

Everyone except Data.

But the team had anticipated that. Data had expected that the Yamato team would pass him in the water and move ahead before he completed the task.

Data was not too concerned. He could make up the time during the next obstacle. Climbing would be no issue for Data.

-X-­

When he emerged from the water, Data made short work of the wall. When he reached the top, he was surprised to find Commander Riker, Tasha, and Miles at the top of the wall.

Tasha had the emergency medical kit out and was taping up Miles's shoulder. Each team carried two small emergency medical kits. Tasha had training as a field medic. Therefore, she was one of the team members elected to carry it.

"Ow," Miles said.

He winced as Tasha tightened the wrap.

"Is there a problem? Are you alright, Chief?" Data asked.

"Just a spot of trouble with the old shoulder injury," Miles explained.

Miles had been less than a metre from the top of the wall when he'd slipped and dislocated his shoulder.

Again.

He'd dislocated so many times that Beverly had advised he would need surgery.

"Doctor Crusher?" Data inquired, looking around.

"Ordered her to keep moving," Riker said.

Miles knew Tasha could patch him up. Tasha was faster on the course than Beverly and would have an easier time making up the lost minutes.

Beverly had protested, insisting she remain behind to help. But after a quick team vote, she had agreed to go on and let Tasha tend to the shoulder.

"Sir, you should really get moving," Tasha said.

She had been urging Riker to follow the others since the incident.

"I'm staying," Riker asserted.

He felt it was his duty.

Tasha paused and glanced up at Commander Riker, shooting him a sharp look.

"Sir, we're almost done. We'll be right behind you," Tasha said.

"Go," Miles encouraged.

"Come on, Data," Riker said before reluctantly diving into the mud crawl.

As soon as Riker and Data had departed, Tasha started to pack up her kit.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Tasha asked Miles.

"Aye," Miles replied. "Have to, right?"

"You could drop out now. There would be a time penalty but-"

"No, no. I can do this," Miles assured her.

-X-­

By the time he reached the end of the mud crawl, Miles's shoulder was screaming.

The pain had erupted at the joint and radiated down the length of his arm and into his chest. It had been sheer misery.

He had just completed two hundred yards of crawling under tight, crossed wires that forced him to stay low.

There had been a moment where he very nearly wished to give up – to roll over in the mud and withdraw from the competition.

But he couldn't do that.

The rest of the team had waited, cheering Miles on as he emerged from the pit.

The warped wall had been quite a challenge with an injured shoulder. Because Data had agreed to reduce his strength output, it took several members of the team to help him scale the distance.

If it had been a normal mission, Data could have simply tossed Miles up to the top. Instead, Worf and Commander Riker had offered a boost while Data and Lieutenant Jae had pulled Miles to safety.

Keiko was over in Ten Forward watching the events unfold on the viewscreen. She was crammed around a table with Sonya Gomez, Deanna, Wesley, and Reg Barclay.

"He's tough," Sonya said. "Takes a lot of heart to keep going like that."

"He's not tough. He's a foolish, stubborn arse," Keiko grumbled.

Deanna could sense that underneath this façade of frustration, Keiko was truly worried for Miles's welfare.

"They'll keep him safe," Deanna said.

"Yeah, mum won't let anything happen," Wesley chimed in. "She'll stop the whole contest if she thinks it's gone too far."

-X-­

"How are they doing?" Guinan asked.

She paused from pouring a new round of drinks to check the viewscreen where the team was making its way across the lily pad obstacle.

There were various floating pads across a pool of water. The goal was to leap from pad to pad until one reached the other side.

Lieutenant Jae had been the first to go. She practically floated across the water, leaping from pad to pad so quickly that her feet barely touched.

She made it look easy.

Worf had gone next and made it across without incident. Geordi was third to follow. He'd slipped twice but managed to eventually make it over.

Commander Riker had struggled to get across. After falling in, slipping, and nearly breaking his tailbone, Riker had opted to climb slowly – clutching each lily pad for dear life before slipping onto the next one.

"That well?" Guinan asked.

Deanna shrugged.

The Yamato team had taken a time penalty after their helmsman withdrew following a sprained ankle. It meant they would be penalised for a total of fifteen minutes off their finish time.

"But we're still two and half minutes behind them," Wesley explained.

"M-m-maybe they can make it up on the next task?" Reg suggested.

-X-­

"Have I ever mentioned my fear of heights?" Beverly said.

Tasha turned to Beverly and made a face.

"Great timing," Tasha remarked.

Beverly laughed nervously.

They were standing atop a great ravine. The objective of their current task was to toss and hook a line across the ravine.

Once their first person was across, they would successfully secure it in place for the rest of the team to cross using a rudimentary pully system.

As the lightest of them all, they were counting on Lieutenant Jae to go first.

"It is only a hologram, Doctor," Data said, hoping to reassure Beverly. "If you were to fall, you would only sustain physical injuries in line with the actual depth of the holodeck."

Data's spatial recognition programme allowed him to identify the actual dimensions of the holodeck in spite of the illusion.

"From this distance, nine metres at most," Data explained. "Eight point seven to be exact."

"Not helping," Beverly squeaked.

She covered her eyes and turned away when Jae ziplined across the ravine.

After landing with ease, Jae secured a more stable line for the rest of the crew to come across. When it was complete, Jae flashed them a thumbs up.

"Look, just close your eyes and we'll make sure you get across alright," Riker promised.

-X-­

"Beverly, we have to keep moving. We are almost there," Data said, urging her on.

The whole team was finally across the ravine. It took help from Data, Riker, and Worf to get her across – and she'd clutched to Worf the entire way for fear of falling.

They were nearly to the finish. The team just had to cross a series of trenches and then scale the final climb – a net – to reach the finishing platform.

"Come on," Riker shouted with enthusiasm.

Tasha was grateful Worf had made her focus so much on her quads in the last year. It was a great help climbing in and out of the trenches.

They were all sweating, caked with mud, and mentally fatigued.

It had taken the Enterprise team five hours and nineteen minutes to reach this point. And with each passing minute, they were gaining on the Yamato team.

-X-­

Over in Ten Forward, people were on their feet.

"Go, go, go, go, go!" Deanna screamed as she watched their progress.

She was jumping, pumping her fist, and shouting at the viewscreen.

And she was far from alone in that endeavour.

People were thumping on tables, waving their scarves, and cheering as if yelling louder would somehow impact the outcome of the event.

Sonya's cousin Luis was leading a group in song, complete with kick line.

"Whoaaaaaaa! Eeeenterprise! Eeeeeenterprise!" they sang.

Both crews were neck in neck as they raced up the net.

Out of nowhere, everything stopped. There was a collective sound of shock.

One of the Yamato players had slipped on the net. He became tangled and fell backward, dangling only by his feet.

It was Ensign Donovan, their star player.

Wesley didn't want to take delight in anyone's pain – but Donovan hadn't fallen. And this was possibly exactly what they needed in order to eke out a win.

Reg was gripping Sonya's arm so tight that she was certain she'd lost feeling in her fingers as they watched the final, dramatic moments unfold.

-X-­

Beverly stopped. She heard the yelp of pain as the Yamato player slipped.

"Go," Tasha ordered.

Beverly was transfixed, completely stuck as she stared across the way, powerless to help.

Worf and Tasha exchanged a dark look.

Before Beverly knew what was happening, they reached down to pull her up onto the platform.

Data was the next up and he took over, helping to pull the rest of the team up to save time.

Only unlike the others, Data had a better ability to multitask. As he extended his arm to help Geordi, Data simultaneously kept an eye on the opposition.

Commander Pennington had practically leapt off the platform in order to save his comrade. Data was astonished as he watched Pennington pull his crewmember upright to safety with just one arm.

His mind began to spiral with theories.

This is not possible. Data thought.

Pennington was a human male of average height and weight. On the other hand, Ensign Donovan was an astonishingly huge man. It would have been a feat even for Data.

Pennington should not have been capable of lifting Donovan's bodyweight with just one arm.

Data was so consumed with his thoughts that he didn't hear the eruption of celebration from his teammates.

In fact, he barely registered as Tasha pulled him a kiss. It was not until Commander Riker tackled the two of them to the platform that Data became aware of their win.

"We won, Data! We won!" Riker said.

He threw back his head and laughed before helping them up.

"Worf! Worf!" Geordi protested. "Put me down!"

"Oi! Watch the shoulder!" Miles hissed as Lieutenant Jae pulled him into a tight embrace.

For once, Data and Tasha didn't care who saw them. They shared another mud coated kiss in full view of both ships.

"Can you turn your strength back up?" Tasha asked.

Data cocked his head to the side.

"Are you injured?" Data inquired.

"No. I just don't think I can walk back," Tasha teased.

"Data!" Beverly hollered, cutting their moment short. "I need your help!"

-X-­

"He has a dislocated knee, torn MCL, and a fractured wrist. Start a course of Metorapan and prep for a full scan," Beverly ordered. "I'm going to clean up."

The conclusion of the obstacle course was hardly the ending the Yamato crew wanted.

With the help of Data, Commander Pennington, Commander Riker, and an antigrav stretcher, Beverly had immediately moved the injured Ensign Donovan to Sickbay. He seemed almost terrified about the prospect of medical treatment.

He practically begged Beverly to return him to the Yamato instead. At first, he insisted his injuries weren't bad. That quickly devolved into a full-blown panic.

To the chagrin of Beverly's team, Commander Pennington had been reluctant to leave his side. In fact, his presence was starting to become a nuisance as they worked to prep Donovan for a proper scan.

"The pain is in his knee," Pennington protested. "That's where he needs help!"

"And we are taking care of that injury," Doctor Selar explained. "But we need to conduct a full scan to ensure he didn't suffer any other injuries."

Donovan was still shaken from the event. He'd hit his head pretty hard falling in the net when it impacted the platform they were climbing.

"He's not in any pain anymore. We just need to do a quick scan," Selar explained.

"Ensign Donovan is a valued member of my crew. Perhaps it would be better if we were to treat him back home on the Yamato?" Pennington suggested. "After all, his injury isn't life threatening."

Doctor Selar stopped and turned back to face Pennington.

"A moment ago you were concerned that we were not doing enough for his wounds. Now you are keen to leave," Doctor Selar said. "Is there a reason you do not want us to examine Ensign?"

She quirked an eyebrow at Pennington as she awaited an answer.

Pennington blanched.

"An illness? Or perhaps an allergy we should be aware of?" Selar pressed.

Pennington didn't have an answer.

"Commander, I can assure you that if you are worried about Regulation 1138 or a sexual relationship with a subordinate, I can promise that your secret is of no concern to me. I'm a medical professional, I only care about-" Doctor Selar began to say.

She wanted to assure him that she could care less who was sleeping with who. She just wanted to ensure that Ensign Donovan didn't have a head injury.

"That's not it!" Pennington snapped.

He quickly composed himself.

"I'm sorry. I'm just worried about my teammate. Please forgive me, I meant no ill will toward your skills, Doctor," Pennington apologised. "I just want to be sure he's alright.

Selar nodded in understanding.

Humans. She mused.

In her experience as a medical professional, Doctor Selar was accustomed to such emotional outbursts from humans.

"We'll notify your Chief Medical Officer that you'd like Ensign Donovan transferred to the Yamato. We'll prepare a team to make the transfer," Selar offered. "In the meantime, we can complete the scan."

Pennington looked furious.

"I promise we'll forward our results. It will save time," Doctor Selar said.

-X-­

Beverly took the shortest shower of her life in order to get back to her duties. In fact, she had opted to use the sonic shower in Sickbay so that she didn't have far to go.

There would be time for a proper hot bath and soak later.

For now, there was work to be done.

"Do you have the results to forward to the Yamato?" Beverly asked as she emerged from the lavvy towelling her hair.

"Yes, Doctor," Doctor Selar replied. "I've sent them along but-"

Doctor Selar paused.

"Doctor?" Beverly prompted.

Selar was one of her finest medical officers. If she was concerned – it was for a good reason.

"I noticed an anomaly," Doctor Selar said. "I've passed on the scans to Doctor Timberland on the Yamato."

Beverly raised one eyebrow.

"And I saved a copy for you," she added.

"Let's take a look," Beverly said.

She dropped her towel into the garment reprocessor and booted up her computer.

"What on earth?" Beverly remarked.

"Doctor Timberland said they would look into it. I've never seen this before," Doctor Selar said.

It was a shadow on the scan. There was something attached to the brain stem.

"Rather, I should say that I have never seen anything like this before that size," Doctor Selar corrected. "If I didn't know better, I would say that it resembles-"

"A parasite," Beverly said, finishing her sentence.

"Indeed," Selar concurred.

-X-­

Beverly wasted no time in reaching out to Doctor Timberland, the Chief Medical Officer of the Yamato. He was quick to invite Beverly to beam aboard.

But in order to leave the Enterprise, Beverly needed permission from Captain Picard.

"A parasite?" he asked in disbelief.

Beverly nodded.

"Yes. It showed up on our scans. Doctor Timberland requested we join them for the examination on the Yamato," Beverly said. "I've never seen anything like it, Captain."

She was hoping to sell him on the importance of her involvement. Only alarm bells were raging inside Jean-Luc's mind.

"That's precisely why I cannot permit you to leave the Enterprise," Picard said.

"Sir, this could be a unique opportunity to study a new parasitic life form," Doctor Selar offered.

Jean-Luc was at an impasse. His fears were fuelled by his conversation with Captain Varley. Strange things were happening, and Picard was hesitant to send over two of his finest medical officers.

"You mentioned Commander Pennington seemed agitated?" Picard asked.

Doctor Selar nodded.

"I believe he was concerned for the wellbeing of the crew member under his command," Doctor Selar answered.

Sometimes I think my First Officer isn't the man I once knew.

Captain Varley's warning echoed in Picard's mind.

Captain Picard was already worried for all of the regular reasons. The possibility of an unknown parasite was an alarming prospect. Add in his fears of a Romulan conspiracy, and it was more than enough to warrant caution.

"We don't know what this is. I don't want either of you going there until we know more. I'm recalling all our staff on the Yamato and reinstituting our travel restrictions," Picard ordered.

"Sir, if this thing was going to infect us – it's already been introduced to the ship," Beverly argued.

Beverly's passion had always been her greatest weakness – especially when it came to an opportunity to study a potentially new medical condition. Captain Picard knew they needed to have a conversation.

But he couldn't very well mention the likes of a Romulan conspiracy in front of Doctor Selar.

Fortunately, Jean-Luc trusted that if he ordered Selar out, she would know enough not to say anything to the other crew. Doctor Selar understood there were times Captain Picard couldn't disclose certain information.

"Doctor, would you please excuse us?" Picard asked, looking to Selar.

"Of course, Captain," Selar said with a small bow.

As soon as they were alone, Beverly launched into a passionate argument for why she should be allowed to go.

Captain Picard let her go on until she had exhausted herself.

"Well?" Beverly asked.

"I can't," Picard said simply.

Beverly was stunned. She opened her mouth to protest, but Jean-Luc already beat her to it.

"Something is going on. On the Yamato," Picard said.

Picard stood up and began to pace behind his desk.

"I don't know if this is related. This could simply be a parasite they picked up somewhere. Something harmless. Or it could be dangerous. A ruse to get you over there," Picard explained. "I don't know."

He stopped. His shoulders slumped.

"But I can't let you go. Beverly, we both sat in that briefing. Someone, probably the Romulans, is trying to replace officers. Can't you see what kind of a prize someone in your position might be? The opportunity you offer?" Picard snapped.

Next to the Captain himself, she was easily one of the top targets. As Chief Medical Officer, Beverly had both the access and authority to falsify medical reports, declare others unfit for duty, and had an arsenal of dangerous medicines at her disposal.

"The games are finished. Everyone is being transported back immediately. There will be no more inter-ship travel," Picard declared.

He kicked himself for even permitting the All-Around Challenge.

You fool. Quinn warned you. Picard thought.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jean-Luc spied the small box on his desk. It was the gift from Varley.

I hope it was worth it. He mused.

-X-­

On her way back to Sickbay, Beverly bumped into Commander Pennington.

"Oh, Commander!" Beverly said. "Excuse me."

She had very nearly run into him on his way out. In fact, he was in such a rush that he'd barely noticed her.

"Sorry, Doctor," he apologised.

"It's alright. I'm sure you're in a hurry to get back to the Yamato," Beverly said.

"Right," he replied in a faraway voice.

Beverly frowned.

"In fact, shouldn't you be getting to the transporter room?" Beverly asked.

For a moment, Pennington eyed her. He said nothing.

Beverly felt uncomfortable. She was just about to say something when Pennington finally found his voice.

"Goodbye, Doctor," Pennington said. "I'm sure we'll be seeing one another again soon."

-X-­

Realising she would have to settle for a subspace communication instead, Beverly headed to her desk and booted up her comms system.

Doctor Timberland came on promptly. He seemed almost surprised by Beverly's eagerness to chat.

"I don't understand," Beverly confessed. "We sent the scan results over to your inbox. There's a mass on the back of Ensign Donovan's neck. It looks like a parasite attached to the brainstem."

Timberland appeared unbothered.

"Doctor, we've scanned Ensign Donovan twice," Timberland explained. "We haven't been able to corroborate your results."

Beverly was visibly perturbed.

"Doctor, I saw the scans," Beverly protested.

Timberland frowned.

"Doctor, I mean no offence – but you had just completed a lengthy physical challenge. Is it possible you were fatigued?" Doctor Timberland asked.

Beverly scoffed in disbelief.

"Doctor, my staff saw the results. They brought it to my attention," Beverly said. "This wasn't fatigue."

Timberland nodded understanding.

"Well, I can send you our results. We could compare them. See if we can clear this all up," Timberland suggested.

"Right," Beverly replied.

Only when they pulled up the reports side by side they were identical.

"This doesn't make sense," Beverly said. "These aren't the images from the scan we took."

She frowned as she studied the image. There was no trace of the mass that had been present in Ensign Donovan's body. It was as if it had simply vanished.

"Maybe there was an error with the scan?" Doctor Timberland suggested. "Or perhaps it was something harmless? We've already run a check to rule out an aneurysm if you're worried about that."

Beverly's mouth went dry. She didn't understand how this was possible. Shadows on scans didn't just vanish.

"This isn't the scan we took," Beverly said as she studied the image on screen.

"Are you sure?" Doctor Timberland asked.

"Positive," Beverly declared. "I'll assign a team to run a complete level one diagnostic on our machine to rule out the possibility of any technical explanation. In the meantime, I'd like to run through my files to ensure there's nothing wrong on our end."

"Of course," Doctor Timberland nodded.

Timberland could see she was mulling it over.

"Doctor Crusher?" he prompted.

"Look at this," she said, drawing his attention to the left corner of the screen.

The Yamato crew had sent over not just visual imagery – but also the results of his preliminary scans.

"Ensign Donovan's adrenaline levels are unusually high," Beverly remarked.

Timberland smiled in a patronising manner.

"Doctor, you all just completed a gruelling physical challenge. Of course his body is producing more adrenaline," Timberland said, dismissing her concern.

"Not this high," Beverly argued. "Look at his catecholamine levels."

"Well Doctor, if you'd like to transport over to the Yamato we would be only too happy to look into with you," Doctor Timberland offered.

A ruse to get you over there...Can't you see what kind of a prize someone in your position might be?

The opportunity you offer?

Jean-Luc's warning was screaming in the back of Beverly's mind.

"Would you please do me a favour and keep me apprised of Ensign Donovan's condition? I'd sleep easier knowing he's alright," Beverly requested.

There was a slight pause.

"You're certain? How well I know that desire, that need to be there for the patient. You would be most welcome to drop by," Timberland offered.

Beverly flashed him her best fake smile.

"Sometimes I have trouble turning it off. You're right – it was an exhausting run. I'm in terrible need of a bath and a glass of wine," Beverly said, declining the invitation. "Just let me know when he's up and about. I know he's in good hands."

-X-­

As soon as her channel was disconnected, Beverly raced out of Sickbay.

"Doctor?" Nurse Ogawa asked as Beverly ran past.

Her legs were screaming. Every muscle in her body was on fire. But Beverly knew she had just minutes to try and catch Commander Pennington.

When she reached deck three, she was relieved to see there was still a line of Yamato personnel waiting to beam back aboard their own ship.

Among them was Commander Pennington.

"Doctor?" Pennington inquired.

Beverly put one finger up. She was breathing hard, clutching her side from having sprinted to catch him.

"Sorry," she panted.

Pennington frowned.

"Is everything alright?" Pennington demanded.

"Um, yeah," Beverly lied.

She realised she had rushed out of Sickbay without a plan.

"Erm, Ensign Donovan left some personal effects in Sickbay. I wanted to return them," Beverly said.

Pennington shrugged and waited for her to present the items.

Beverly responded with a nervous laugh.

"I seem to have left them down in Sickbay," Beverly said, attempting to cover. "Would you just, uh-"

She trailed off as she started to walk backwards and pointed over her shoulder.

Pennington scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he agreed.

-X-­

Commander Pennington lifted his head and blinked – thoroughly unimpressed.

"You called me back down here for this?" Pennington asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

"I didn't know if they were special or perhaps sentimental," Beverly replied.

Pennington muttered something under his breath as he sifted through the pile of rubbish.

In truth, Ensign Donovan had not left anything in Sickbay and Beverly had been forced to get creative with whatever she could find in her desk – a ration bar, a tin of mints, a spare undershirt.

"You expect me to believe Ensign Donovan left this?" Pennington demanded as he held up a small shirt.

It would have barely fit over Donovan's bicep.

Beverly shrugged and feigned innocence as she handed Pennington a spare bag to carry it all.

"I guess," she said with a smile.

Pennington grumbled and stuffed the items into the sack. Beverly had only seconds. Using her skill as a dancer, she slipped behind Pennington.

Beverly whipped out her tricorder and conducted a quick scan concentrated on the neck of Pennington's neck. She was only able to get a few seconds of data before Pennington stood up.

"Thank you," he sneered before he turned to go.

"No, thank you," Beverly replied with a friendly wave.

-X-­

Beverly's hands trembled as she fed the results into her computer. A tricorder scan was a far cry from a thorough body scan – but it would be sufficient to provide some answers.

Or at least enough to confirm a theory.

The mass they had spotted on Ensign Donovan was large – larger than any brain parasite Beverly had ever seen before.

And it was big enough that there would likely be an anomaly present on a basic tricorder scan too.

Beverly was simultaneously thrilled and terrified as she eyed the results. There was a mass on the back of Commander Pennington's neck.

That meant something foreign was in both Ensign Donovan and Commander Pennington's bodies.

But the tricorder scan was so rudimentary that it was impossible to determine if this was truly a parasite, an implant, an aneurysm, or a tumour.

Worst of all, Beverly didn't have the initial scans from Donovan to reference. All she had to go by was her memory and a hunch.

Beverly's communicator pinged.

"Doctor? Will you be joining us in Ten Forward?" Data inquired.

He had prepared a lengthy speech praising the team and wanted to ensure that all members were present to join in the celebration.

Beverly could hear the sound of a wild party emanating in the background, threatening to overpower Data's voice.

She longed to join her friends. To grab a glass of wine and forget all about this mess. But Beverly had never been one to run from danger.

To Jean-Luc's displeasure, Beverly was usually the one rushing in headfirst armed with nothing more than a tricorder and her unstoppable determination.

I could do with a drink. Beverly considered.

Meddling would undoubtedly lead to danger. And this was no mere unknown disease. The last time Beverly had waded into the territory of Romulan biological agents she had learned some rather uncomfortable information.

Beverly's hand hesitated, hovering over her combadge. In the end – curiosity won out.

"Start without me," Beverly replied.

She tapped her combadge twice to disconnect from Data and open a new channel.

"Lieutenant Adams, please report to Sickbay immediately," Beverly ordered.

Beverly leapt up from her desk and made a beeline for the main room in Sickbay. She snagged two of her best officers – Doctor Selar and Nurse Alyssa Ogawa.

"Wait here," Beverly ordered, instructing them to remain inside her office.

-X-­

A round of spoons clanging on pint glasses brought the party to a lower level.

Data cast a quick glance in Tasha's direction. She flashed him a reassuring smile. He nodded and rose from his seat.

Then he cleared his throat in preparation to deliver the speech he had penned for the occasion.

"My friends, colleagues, teammates," Data began as he scanned the room.

They were more than just coworkers. These were the people that were Data's allies, his closest confidants, the very people that had refused to participate unless Data was included too.

They were the same people that had helped Data to realise his own personhood and self-worth.

Words could not begin to adequately describe the gratitude that Data felt for his friends and their love. Emotion threatened to overwhelm Data.

His throat went tight. Data's neural net surged, creating an almost lightheaded effect. He gripped the table for balance.

Data closed his eyes and took a shaky breath to steady himself as he tapped into the memory file that contained his prepared speech.

When he opened his eyes, Data smiled to the crowd.

"To all of you," Data said simply. "And all that this team represents. Good health, my friends. Slàinte mhath. Live long and prosper. QuvlIjDaq yIH tu'be'lu'jaj."

Tasha and Worf shared a smirk as Data delivered a classic Klingon toast.

May your journey be free from tribbles.

"May the hull of our ship remain intact," Data continued. "And may we holdfast as friends."

He lifted his glass and left it at that.

"Here, here!" Miles chimed in.

"Whooo eee!" Geordi added as he tapped the table.

Data sat back down and visibly relaxed.

Tasha threw her arm around him and leaned in close against his ear.

"That was a pretty short speech for how long you spent practising in front of the mirror," Tasha noted.

Data couldn't blush, but he may as well have been. He'd been caught and they both knew it.

"I have learned a great deal from all of you," Data said. "Including how to read a room."

Tasha bit back a smirk.

"This could be considered a rather wild party, could it not?" Data asked.

"Well no one's taken off their-" Tasha paused as she watched Ensign Blutarsky strip down to his shorts, "pants."

He tossed his trousers into the crowd and then proceeded to engage in a rather fervent dance with Ensign Stratton.

Data had seen it as well.

"I do not wish to alter the atmosphere," Data acknowledged.

He knew himself well enough to understand that a heartfelt, emotional speech about the virtue of friendship and diversity would shift the mood of the party.

For the first time in ages the crew had found the freedom to relax. Data had no desire to disrupt that.

Tasha just grinned and shook her head.

"In any case, I do not mind practising. Even if it is for something I will never use," Data said.

"How would you like to go back to your place and practise for our honeymoon?" Tasha suggested in a low voice.

Data's face lit up.

"At this rate, we will be experts by the time we finally get there," Data teased.

-X-­

Over in Sickbay, Beverly was escorting Lieutenant Adams into one of the private exam rooms.

"I feel fine, Doc," Adams said as Beverly ordered him onto the examination table.

"Please," Beverly insisted.

"Can I ask what's wrong?" Adams inquired. "Has something happened?"

"I promise I will explain once I have confirmed that you can be trusted," Beverly said.

Adams had arrived in Sickbay a few minutes earlier. Doctor Crusher had immediately swept him away from the others and requested he take a full body scan.

"Doctor-" Adams protested.

"Please," Beverly urged. "You may be the only one I can trust."

That sent a chill right through Adams.

He plopped down on the exam cot and laid back, saying nothing more as Beverly herself conducted the imaging tests.

Beverly had no idea if this implant or parasite could be passed from person to person. Adams was one of the only medical crew members that had been in his quarters at the time Pennington was in Sickbay.

Most of the medical team had either been in Sickbay or in Ten Forward mingling with Yamato crew members.

Beverly breathed a sigh of relief when the results from Adams's scan showed no trace of any parasite or implant.

"Now I am afraid I must request your help with another task," Beverly said.

-X-­

Forty-five minutes later, Doctor Selar, Nurse Ogawa, and Lieutenant Adams found themselves sitting in Captain Picard's Ready Room.

There was a door that led to his personal quarters. On the other side of that door Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher were engaged in a heated debate.

Doctor Selar sat perfectly stiff with pristine posture as she waited for them to return. It was evident from Captain Picard's body language that their presence was a surprise.

Nurse Ogawa rapped her fingers on her leg in an effort to kill time.

Lieutenant Adams did his best to push the shouting from his mind. He couldn't stand when people argued like that. Growing up in a loud home with half a dozen siblings, he was accustomed to such fighting – and it still made him cringe.

The door flew open. Captain Picard swept back into the room with Jean-Luc in tow.

Picard took a seat behind his desk. He folded his arms across his lap and then glanced up at the three officers assembled before him.

Beverly had insisted it was time to bring them in. As medical officers they were already more adept at keeping secrets than most.

Yet Jean-Luc had his reservations.

Unfortunately, this business with the mysterious implant or parasite on the back of Ensign Donovan's neck had forced his hand.

And while Picard was irritated that Beverly had brought in Lieutenant Adams as well, he understood her reasons and appreciated her efforts to rule out infiltration among her own team.

Captain Picard leaned forward. For a moment he said nothing.

"What I am about to tell you will place your life in danger," Picard said. "Which is why I am offering you the opportunity to leave now. There will be no questions asked. And I will not count it against any of you in an official capacity – nor in a personal capacity."

He paused.

"Should you wish to stay, know that this information cannot be shared with anyone. And that is a direct order of the highest magnitude," Picard explained.

-X-­

By the time he emerged from Captain Picard's Ready Room, Lieutenant Adams was overdue for a drink.

He hopped on the nearest lift and rode it straight down to Ten Forward.

The doors opened and he was greeted by a wave of celebratory party goers.

"Hey! Hey!" Geordi said, pulling Adams into the crowd. "This guy needs a pint!"

Chief O'Brien, Commander Riker, and Deanna were wowing the crowd with their rendition on a rock classic.

At least, the crowd tolerated it.

"Stick to the trombone!" Lieutenant Hawk hollered from the bar.

As they made their exit from the table that served as a makeshift stage, there was a barrage of peanuts and crisps tossed in their direction.

"Thank gods nobody's got a tomato," Miles said.

On the other side of the room, Lieutenant Jae was recounting their moment of victory for a rapt audience.

The drinks and goodwill flowed freely.

Adams watch with amusement as two women from the microbiology team approached Lieutenant Barclay. He'd been sitting alone watching the celebration with mild enthusiasm.

"You're the guy that programmed the obstacle course, right?" one of them asked.

Reg glanced around to be sure they were actually speaking to him.

"You're that engineer," the other one said.

"M-m-me? You want to talk to m-me?" Barclay stammered in disbelief.

"Well you're Lieutenant Barclay, right? The holodeck genius?"

Barclay nearly fainted as they slipped into the seats opposite of him.

From his viewpoint, Adams could only smile and shake his head.

"Hey! Hey! It's time!" Geordi shouted above the crowd.

Everyone paused to look out at the lighted beacons between the two ships. As the competition was now complete, Geordi had rigged them to go offline after one last brilliant flash of the winning team's colour.

There was a brilliant flash of crimson before the beacons went offline.

From his place in the corner, Lieutenant Adams watched in awe as it all unfolded. There were moments – far too few of them – where Adams was keenly aware of how precarious their position was in space.

Out in the vast inky black expanse lay millions of things just waiting to kill them – pathogens, asteroids, anomalies, aliens.

Romulans.

Adams chuckled and glanced down at the pint in his hand. Then he scanned the room looking for two people in particular.

The corner of his lip curved into a small smile when he realised they weren't among the crowd.

Good. Oliver mused.

Things may not have worked out the way he wanted between himself and Lieutenant Yar. He'd have adored the opportunity to take her for coffee and see where things went.

Unfortunately, Tasha only had eyes for Data.

But Oliver Adams had remained a friend. And he was pleased she had found Data. Their relationship had been a little spark of happiness for everyone in the midst of a dreary year.

Adams hoped that wherever they were that night, they were enjoying themselves.

-X-­

"A little more to the left," Tasha said softly.

"Like this?" Data asked.

He was eager to get it right.

Tasha's fingers closed around his own, gripping his stick tight.

"Like this," Tasha whispered as she guided him.

Tasha gasped.

"Be gentle," she said with a smirk, feeling it was necessary to add that warning.

Data froze.

"I am always gentle," he retorted.

Tasha giggled against his shoulder.

"Tasha, I implore you. No giggling. It impacts my performance," Data pleaded.

Tasha moved back as Data lined up his shot. He swung his stick high into the air, sending the puck flying across the ice and into the goal.

"And the crowd goes wild!" she shouted, pumping her fist. "Data, Data, Data!"

She skated in a wide loop around Data as she cheered – his one-woman fan club.

"Oof," he huffed as Tasha impacted his body at full force.

Data dropped his stick on the ice so he could embrace her properly. After dipping out of the party, Data and Tasha had found it just didn't sit right being at home. Data couldn't quite describe the feeling other than to say it was similar to the sensation of an endorphin high occasionally experienced by humans after an eventful moment.

They wanted privacy – but they weren't quite ready to call it a night.

So it was the perfect opportunity to sneak off to the holodeck for a few hours where Data was most keen to get on the ice.

Data snaked his arms around Tasha and pulled her in close.

"You were wonderful," she said.

"I would not have been able to participate without you," Data replied.

Tasha lifted her chin to meet his eyes.

"It wouldn't have been worth it without you," she said.

Data took hold of her hand, looping his fingers through Tasha's as he pulled her along around the edge of the rink.

It was midnight before they finally made it home.

-X-­

Data and Tasha weren't the only ones up late after a long day.

Beverly had finished a bottle of wine by herself while enjoying a long soak. Between the wine and the sea mineral face mask she was hoping to push away the darkness for a while.

But as she sat there alone, she couldn't keep her mind from thinking about the incident in Sickbay, her strange conversation with Doctor Timberland of the Yamato, and the discovery of the shadow on Ensign Donovan's brain stem.

Beverly theorised several ways in which such a shadow could justify the unusual behaviour that Admiral Quinn had warned of.

A parasite, a tumour, an implant – they were all possible explanations. There were any number of causes including environmental factors, genetic engineering, illegal experimentation, or something more sinister.

The Romulans were no strangers to bioengineering. Beverly had first-hand experience with their work and knew just what lengths the Romulans would go to.

And if Jean-Luc hadn't been such a stubborn arse, Beverly may very well have been the next victim.

Beverly lingered in the doorway to Wesley's bedroom, watching as her son slept in peace – blissfully unaware of the Romulan threat that loomed over the Enterprise.

When she finally retired to her own bed, Beverly felt older. She was tired in ways that she previously didn't know were possible.

Hours earlier she had felt incredible. Exhausted – but incredible.

Now she felt uncertain. It was almost like the sense of doubt she had experienced after Jack's death.

Beverly rolled onto her back and fumbled with her necklace. It had been a gift from Jack. Whenever she didn't know what to do or where to start, Beverly found herself mindlessly reaching for the necklace.

She would start examinations in the morning. The entire crew had to be tested. It would all be done under the guise of routine testing. She would make an excuse.

Beverly could simply announce the Yamato crew had come down with a pathogen and she needed to rule out exposure.

It was all simple enough.

And that was what scared her.

-X-­

A thousand lightyears away, Admiral Gregory Quinn was clinging to consciousness inside his cell. He was freezing. Bound to a chair in the centre of a cold, dark room was hardly a fitting end for a man like Gregory Quinn.

For eleven days, Quinn had been held in this cell – not that Quinn was aware of that fact.

It was impossible to tell how long he'd been captive.

At first, a Romulan centurion came four times a day with a meal. The centurion checked his vitals. They must have had a reason for keeping him alive – a fact that was further unsettling for Admiral Quinn.

When he'd refused to eat, they had forced it on him through the use of nutrient injections and an emergency IV.

Now the centurion just came to check his vitals and administer his treatment.

It was so cold that Quinn could no longer feel his extremities.

He surmised this was their plan to encourage cooperation.

The door slid open. Quinn didn't recognise the shadow on the floor. He had neither the strength nor the desire to lift his head. Unlike the centurion, this person stopped.

Gregory Quinn tensed as he felt two fingers slip under his chin, forcing him to meet the eyes of his captor.

He nearly fainted when she straddled his lap. Quinn surmised this was all part of the act. After all – he knew who she really was.

Quinn also understood that if his theory was correct, she would need to maintain her cover for whatever mission she had been dispatched to complete.

At the very least, she would need to preserve the timeline.

It has to be. Quinn thought.

Admiral Quinn had only spent limited time aboard the Enterprise. Yet this woman had to be the same Lieutenant he'd met during his brief stint on board.

She had the same stature and physicality. Everything about this Romulan bore an uncanny resemblance to Natasha Yar – right down to the cold blue eyes.

It had to be her.

The voice was the same.

Blonde hair and blue eyes?

Romulans would never dare pollute their pure bloodline with such a human abomination. They were no strangers to eugenics.

The worst offending xenophobes in the known universe paled in comparison to the Romulans – who openly discriminated against non-Romulans, were proud of their eugenics practises, and readily enslaved their own people through a brutal feudal system.

It was wonder Starfleet would even send Lieutenant Yar there undercover in the first place unless it was under the guise of some glorified defector.

No doubt their fascist propaganda machine would love to glorify such a notion, selling it to the masses as evidence of Romulan superiority.

They could barely feed their own people and yet they poured all of their resources into military superiority – and parading that authority at every opportunity.

For a moment she said nothing as she stared at Admiral Quinn.

Admiral Quinn mentally prepared himself to receive either news of a mercy death sentence at her hands or information he was expected to relay back to the Federation.

"Admiral?" she prompted.

"I don't know if I'm strong enough to escape," Quinn whispered.

"Oh don't worry about that," she said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I'll take care of everything."

Quinn was shocked that she would brazenly discuss an escape openly. She made no attempt to lower her voice.

She was amused as she watched him panic.

"Is something wrong Admiral?" she asked.

"Lieutenant-" he warned in a low voice.

"Commander," she said, correcting him.

In true Romulan fashion, she had technically answered his question while still managing to avoid it - dangling just enough information to remind Gregory Quinn that she was in power, and he was her captive.

Quinn leaned forward as best he could.

"I know who you are," he said in a voice so low it was barely audible.

She cocked her head to the side and studied his face for a moment before leaning in close.

"And who do you think I am?" she asked.

Is this a trap? Quinn wondered.

If this really was Lieutenant Yar and she truly was undercover, Quinn may have just blown any chance they had.

At the same time, Quinn realised she may have been looking for a way to further solidify her position by making a further declaration of defection.

"I-I, uh," Quinn stammered.

"Admiral?" she prompted in a soft voice.

Her hand closed around his throat.

"Say it."

Her words were sweet. Under any other circumstance the smooth tenor of her voice would have been enough to lull Quinn into a state of relaxation.

But she was quite literally gripping his throat just tight enough to restrict his airways.

"Lieutenant," Quinn gasped. "Yar. Natasha Yar."

She sat back. The woman dropped her gaze to her lap and began to pick at her fingernails. The silence was unnerving.

"You know I sometimes wonder," she began. "If she had lived, do you think she would be proud of me?"

Quinn was at a loss for words.

"Or do you think she would weep? And if she did, would she weep for the child she abandoned? Or for knowing that the greatest threat your Federation has ever faced crawled out of her womb?" she asked.

She let the question hang in the air for a moment.

Quinn was having a difficult time keeping up.

A child?

The woman chuckled.

"Yes. That's it. I think she would weep for her precious Federation. Her poor, misguided dedication to a government that seeks to eradicate the existence of my people under the guise of.."

She paused and glanced over to the wall.

"Ah, infinite diversity."

She threw her head back and laughed.

Quinn shook his head.

"I don't understand. Lieutenant Yar-"

"Vang'radam!" she spat.

Quinn recognised the Romulan word for 'traitor.'

It was as if a switch had flipped inside this woman. In an instant, her demeanour changed from playful to dangerous.

"I am nothing like that whore," she sneered.

She sat back and shook her head.

"You preach diversity and inclusion. You act like you are so much better than us," she said, the bitter attitude of years of resentment colouring her voice. "And when it comes right down to it, you're just like us. Only we have the courage to admit we can't stand you."

"Who are you?" Quinn demanded.

Once more, she reached for Admiral Quinn's throat.

"Tasha Yar was my mother," she explained in a terse voice. "My father loved her. He gave her everything. My people opened their arms to her. And she repaid that kindness by deceiving my father and betraying her Empire."

Her chest was heaving, her eyes wild and full of fury.

"He gave her everything and she scorned him. She couldn't even bring herself to love me, to find it in her heart to love the child she bore," the woman went on.

"I don't-" Quinn managed to choke out.

"I will be Empress and Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire someday. And I will lead my people into a gold age of Romulan superiority and expansion," she declared. "I will crush your Federation with an annexation so brutal that Vulcans will weep and Andorians will beg for mercy."

As quickly as her anger had come, it dissipated.

She set back and grinned. Her small, simpering giggle was so out of place it unnerved Quinn.

"And you're going to help me," she said.

Like hell. Quinn thought.

"You see, you may not know me. But I. Know. You," she teased, walking her fingers up his chest. "Yes. I know all about you Admiral Gregory Hamilton Quinn."

Quinn closed his eyes and prepared himself. He'd heard about the brutality of Romulan torture.

"I know all about your ex-wife, your daughter, your grandchildren," she rattled off. "I know about your position at Starfleet Command. Your office in the Chekov Building. The way you like to keep a bowl of salted almonds in the corner in case your blood sugar gets low in the afternoon."

Quinn's stomach dropped.

They have a spy in my office. He realised.

Quinn had carefully selected all of his people after extensive background checks and careful examination of their personnel records. If the Romulans had managed to implant or sway one of those people, it meant their tentacles ran much further than previously expected.

Quinn winced as she fussed with his hair, running her fingers through it and back over his ears in almost motherly fashion.

"And I know that you mentored men like Walker Keel and Donald Varley," she continued.

She paused.

"Jean-Luc Picard," she added.

They were the very men Quinn had turned to when he had no one left to trust. And now, he had placed them all in grave danger.

"That's why I was so thrilled when we finally captured you," the woman said. "You have a very special role to play, Admiral."

"I won't cooperate," he insisted.

"Oh but you will," she replied as her fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck.

If I'm lucky, I won't last that long. Quinn thought.

He was an old man. In recent years, his health had declined between his divorce and the workload that came with such a prominent posting. The added stress of his investigation into a Romulan Conspiracy had only further contributed to the problem.

At the very least, he had finally determined the identity of this woman.

For months Quinn and Remmick had attempted to find how and why Tasha Yar was on Romulus. It was satisfying to finally have some semblance of closure - even if the discovery was shocking and raised more questions than answers.

Unfortunately, Quinn recognised he would never be able to pass that information along.

The woman ran her hands along his shoulders as she smoothed down the front of his uniform.

"Once you're back home, you're going to help me topple your pathetic Starfleet. Your Federation will be utterly defenceless then," she said.

It was an old Romulan adage – the supreme art of conquering came from knowing how to subdue an enemy without firing a disruptor.

"And before that's done, you will help me capture one very special prize," she said.

Quinn shuddered as she leaned in close. Her breath was warm against his ear.

"The Enterprise," she whispered.

-X-

Author's Note 2: Electric Boogaloo:

*Record scratch*

Okay. You're probably thinking 'what just happened?!? That doesn't sound like Tasha Yar!'

And you would be right.

Remember, Sela's grown up without the influence of her mother. What she has experienced is a lifetime of her father's bitter sparknotes version of history – with a hefty dose of resentment for a woman he felt owed him affection.

Sela's father is one of the most truly terrifying characters I've ever penned, and I am so excited to finally reach this point!

*rubs hands*

Alright then, forward on to Schizoid Man!