Chapter Text
Geordi watched the android’s busy fingers tap away at the console, his polymer fingernails clicking softly as they touched the screen, a staccato counterpoint to the pulsing warp core.
“I have completed the analysis,” he relayed after a moment. “The sample appears to be of interstellar origin; possibly from a rogue comet.” His hands went still as he turned to the chief engineer, his yellow eyes glinting with the blue light from the engine room. “It is not from the planet’s surface at all.”
Geordi regarded his friend, and then the strange black liquid in the sample vial. “Uh-huh,” he said, gazing into the unknown substance. “And what else? I know that look.”
Data’s brow furrowed for a half second as he began to object, about to question what look exactly Geordi meant, but then he realized it was a question for another time. “I have cross referenced the substance with the computer’s database, and its chemical makeup bears a striking similarity to the fluid recovered from Vagra II.”
“Vagra II? You can’t mean…”
“Armus.”
~*~*~*~
Captain Picard leaned back in his chair with his hands folded across his desk.
“Is there any indication that this is the same lifeform?” he asked. “After all, that was years ago, and the planet has been quarantined ever since. To my knowledge, the enforcement of that quarantine has been exemplary.”
“Though the chemical makeup is similar, we have been unable to provoke any response from the substance outside of normal parameters,” Data said. “Our investigation is still ongoing.”
Geordi shifted in his seat. “It could be a coincidence, though. Those hydrocarbons we recovered from Vagra II, well, they weren’t even collected directly from the organism – that was from the residue collected during Lt. Yar’s autopsy. This might just be some kind of fossil petrochemical, maybe not even unique. Survey teams pick up all kinds of stuff like that on these missions.”
“Nonetheless, because the closest match is to a known deadly force and enemy of the federation, it is my recommendation that this planet be quarantined as well,” Data concluded.
Picard’s forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows rose. “Quarantine the entire planet? Over some unidentified hydrocarbons? I understand due caution, Mr. Data, but I believe that would be a bit overkill. Deneb III is an entire Class M world we’re talking about – it would be an ideal place to resettle the refugees from Altair III if we can ensure their safety.” The captain looked over at Geordi, who gave him a subtle, knowing glance, and then sighed. “Well, at any rate, I would like you to continue your investigation, gentlemen. Dismissed.”
As the two lieutenant commanders rose from their seats, Picard held up one hand. “Actually, Mr. Data, I would like a word with you. Mr. LaForge, thank you, you may go.”
Data, still standing, regarded the captain expectantly as the doors closed behind his friend.
“Commander, I see you’re very concerned about this finding, this unidentified compound. Would you mind explaining your thought process to me?” the captain asked with a sort of avuncular curiosity. His informal tone caught the android off guard for a moment. “Please take a seat, Mr. Data.”
Data obliged, pulling the chair back under himself with customary precision. “I am merely being cautious for the sake of the colonists,” he answered. “Is it not important to eliminate all potential threats, sir?”
Picard gave a conciliatory nod, gesturing with one upturned palm. “Yes of course, and your dedication to that end is admirable. But we have very little evidence that this substance is from the same organism as the one which killed Lt. Yar, and yet you appear to be treating it as if that is a foregone conclusion. If I didn’t know you better, I would accuse you of a bias in this regard.”
Data’s brows descended in confusion. “Bias, sir?” he asked.
The captain’s lips formed a flat line as he cast his eyes downwards. “Data, I know you had something of a… unique relationship with Tasha, is that correct?” the captain asked before meeting the android’s eyes again.
Data paused, synthesizing a response. “In a matter of speaking, yes sir. I was, however, her superior officer--”
“Data,” the captain cut in, “I know that. All of it is long over. You don’t need to explain yourself. Both of you were senior bridge staff, anyway. This would not be the fist time that two starfleet officers with a minor difference in rank developed such a less-than-professional bond – It woudn’t even be the first time on my bridge, would it?” Picard smirked, thinking of Will and Deanna’s complete failure to be coy around him.
“...No, sir.”
“And so – without forcing you to provide unnecessarily personal details, you two were… together?”
“She did not see it that way, sir. She saw me only as a friend and comrade. She described our involvement as a lapse of her own judgment. She asked me not to speak of it with anyone, although I have already revealed the situation during the events of the trial on Starbase 173, as you recall.”
There was a long pause. “I see,” Picard said, steepling his fingers. “But, you felt differently?”
Data blinked, considering the question. “I suppose perhaps her perception of the interaction was different than mine,” he replied after a moment. “She was unknowingly intoxicated with the polywater contaminant when she approached me. I attributed certain emotions to her actions at the time, but perhaps those emotions were illusory, and those actions were merely a product of the intoxicant. She later approached me to tell me that the interaction had ‘never happened,’ but I had always assumed this was due to our difference in rank and her embarrassment regarding the impropriety.” He paused. “Perhaps my own perceptions were distorted by the contaminant as well,” he explained.
“Well.” Picard sniffed, looking into the middle distance. “That must have been quite awkward for you to navigate.”
“Awkward, sir?” the android asked, uncomprehending.
“Well, yes, I mean, surely there was some difficulty afterwards as you reconciled?” the captain replied.
“No, sir. Lt. Yar requested that I act as if nothing had happened, so I complied with that request. We never discussed it again.”
“But Data,” Picard challenged, “I know that wasn’t the end of it for you, even if it was for her. I recall your testimony quite clearly – I recall how moving it was, how much your attachment to her swayed the judge.”
Data looked down at his lap for a moment. “Yes, sir. The experience with Lt. Yar presented a large volume of new information which affected my neural makeup in nontrivial ways. Novel experiences often have that effect on me. I found it unexpectedly difficult to compensate for the loss of her sensory inputs after her demise.”
Picard closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. “Like cutting off a limb, right?”
Data’s eyes darted back and forth as he examined the turn of phrase. “Yes, sir, the analogy to the detachment of a limb is quite apt,” he remarked. “But how can you be familiar with the sensation of such an amputation if you have not experienced it, captain?”
The captain frowned in thought. “I suppose I can’t exactly,” he conceded. “But I lost Tasha too, and I have a very good idea what that feels like.” He stared off again for a long moment, letting his eyes settle on the fish tank, where Livingston was idly pecking at the decorations. “Nevertheless,” he continued with as gentle a tone as he could manage, “would you give some thought to putting aside those difficult feelings with regards to this mission?”
Data blinked, uncertain of how to respond. “I am not capable of feeling 'difficult feelings,' Captain. But if you mean to ask that I re-examine the way I have been compensating for Lt. Yar’s loss, then I will do so,” he stated flatly.
The captain sighed. “Data, I don’t mean to criticize the way you have been coping. I understand on quite a personal level that accepting the death of a crewmember is quite difficult, particularly a crewmember you were close to.” There was something different about the captain’s eyes as he said this that Data couldn’t quite understand. “If you would prefer to be reassigned and to have Geordi handle it…” he trailed off.
“No, sir,” Data said quickly, “that will not be necessary.”