Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-pas-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!pd7cy1no!shaw.ca!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 1/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 100 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:51:06 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098737248 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:47:28 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:47:28 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161153 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:02:45 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty... the sequel Part 2: What the Mourning Brings NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel [pg 13] D/f Summary: Uh... First, I suggest if you want to tackle this, read the first enjoy writting and reading this stuff. I know it's corny as hell but if you've ever really loved Star Trek, you retain the characters within you forever as a part of yourself... And when I see the final episode of TNG it's like a communion with the old friend that is your past self... The fact that I just caught the tail end of All Good Things... on the ol' cable TV--and the fact that I've been listening to all these Brian Wilson childhood whimsical nostalgia songs--made me appreciate that feeling enough to compel me to finally getting around to posting this. So, without further ado... Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 1/33 Hour after hour passed with him lying on his cold, metal bunk, staring up at the grey ceiling with unseeing eyes. Data hadn't been able to sleep all that night, his first inside the Cardassian prison complex on the Velerous moon. Whenever he did fall asleep, usually for brief, erratic periods, his dreams were filled with Cardassians, pain, and Mika. Every time he awoke, he would make a silent prayer to Mika's Prophets to keep her safe. The guards returned sometime the next morning. Data couldn't really say what time it was; hell, since he couldn't see the sun, he wasn't even sure if it was morning. It was the same pair of guards who had escorted him around the day before. Without saying a word, they marched towards him and hauled him to his feet. "Good sleep?" Data inquired. He received no reply. Holding on to Data's shoulders with the same vice grip as before, the guards shoved him down the corridor. Data looked around for a window as they walked so that he might be able to at least form some estimate of the time. There were no windows along the bleak walls of the corridor, however. In fact, Data probably would have bet that there weren't any windows in the whole complex. It was as though the prison were just buried under a rock. Buried... Data tried to remember what he'd seen of the outside of the complex before he'd been beamed off the ship. Hadn't it occurred to him at the time how small it was? Could it be possible then, that the complex was partially underground, and that he was underground at the moment? That would certainly make escape more difficult... Even as the notion passed through Data's mind, he knew it was foolishness. Escape? Him? He almost laughed. The guard stopped outside one of the many doors that lined the corridor, and opened it once again with the hand scan. They didn't shove Data through this time, though. This time they kept a firm hold on him as they went through the door. The new room was darker than the hallway had been, and Data found that it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did, though, the first thing he saw was Gul Ropek standing before him, looking as confidant as he would if he he'd had the universe at his beck and call--and, as far as Data's future was concerned, it might as well have been true. "Good morning," said the Gul charmingly. He then gave a nod, and a third guard approached Data. This one was wielding a knife. He held it up, and Data thought he saw him smile. As the guard began to bring the knife down towards Data, he struggled for all he was worth. It didn't matter. The guard put the knife at Data's throat, and Data closed his eyes in preparation to die. But instead of slicing through Data's jugular, the guard cut a straight line down Data's chest, cutting away his shirt. It fell in several small pieces at his feet. Then, with a nod from the Gul, the knife-wielding guard stepped away. Data did his best to stand firm as the Gul stared at him. "This is the man who almost brought down my whole computer system?" he laughed. "I wouldn't have known it to look at you." Data's arms were then yanked from his sides to behind his back, where someone fastened a metal device on his wrists, binding them together. "Tell me," began the Gul. "Have you ever been tortured before?" Truthfully, Data hadn't, but he chose not to reply. Gul Ropek shook his head disapprovingly. "I thought we went over this." The Cardassian moved so quickly Data didn't even have a chance to react. Before he knew what was happening, the Gul had a knife at his throat. He ran the blade gently down the veins in Data's neck; it was such a feather touch that it almost made Data ticklish. "Are you afraid of dying?" asked the Gul. It was a question that Data had been asking himself all night long. "No," he whispered, almost fearful that an over-vibration of his vocal chords might cause the knife to break his skin. Gul Ropek smiled. "I've heard that before." He brought the knife back, and prepared to plunge it into Data's bare chest. Data watched the blade as it came towards him, the dim light glittering gently over the sharp edge. Just before the knife made contact, Data jerked back. But again, the blow that he'd been prepared for never came. Ropek's smile was actually wider as he pulled the knife back from Data's chest. "As I said, I've heard that before." He turned, and started walking away from Data. "Hook him up," he instructed. "I will return later." Data watched with mixed relief as Gul Ropek exited the room. Then everything went black. ____________________________________________________________ NewMessage: Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 2/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 97 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:53:34 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098737399 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:49:59 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:49:59 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161154 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:05:07 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings (Since I forgot to post my email on the first page, here it is now: twinklewunderkid@hotmail.com) Data awoke with a steady pain in his neck and shoulders. He still felt tired, but he forced himself to open his eyes. He was... somewhere. There wasn't really anything to look at, as he was in total darkness. He tried to look down at what it was that was hurting his shoulders, but found that his neck was being held in place with a firm metal brace. His hands, too, were locked into place behind his back, just as his legs were held in place in front of him. He was seated, so he surmised that all of the things that were holding him in place were attached to whatever it was he was sitting on. Suddenly, a single light went on. The abrupt change made Data blind for a moment. His focus gradually returned, however, revealing the smiling face of Gul Ropek mere inches from his. "Have a good sleep?" Data tried to recoil from the Cardassian's reptilian features, but the brace held him in place. "Where am I?" he asked groggily. "It's very simple, really. This machine you're hooked up to measures perspiration and heart rate, as well as monitoring brain wave patterns. It's rather an improvement on something that I believe your forebears used to call a... lie detector. This particular prototype hasn't been used on Cardassia for years." Data prayed he was dreaming. "Why..." "Yes," the Gul answered to Data's unspoken question. "We could just give you drugs that force you to tell us what we want to know, but I find this method somewhat more... interesting... don't you agree?" he then backed away from Data towards the light source. As he stood in front of the single bulb, his features became unrefined, so that all Data could see was the Gul's powerful silhouette, standing confidently over him. "Now," Gul Ropek began. "Who are you?" "My name is Guy," Data answered. The moment the words were out of Data's mouth, a pain seized his shoulders, and cut off his windpipe. He tried to cry out, but he couldn't get enough air into his lungs to form the sound. "What is your name?" the Gul repeated, seemingly oblivious to Data's pain. Data's first thought was to let the vice crush his windpipe rather than tell the Cardassians anything. It was his duty as a Starfleet officer not to give in... It was his duty as a Starfleet officer... and then he thought of Mika. If it was true that your whole life flashes before your eyes the moment before you die, then everything that ever mattered in Data's life was Mika. He wasn't thinking about his duty as a Starfleet officer, or of his loyalty to the Federation. Instead, he pictured Mika, as she had appeared the night before they'd left for Cardassia. He remembered how she'd looked in the darkened engine room, as she had allowed herself to cry for the first time in 14 years, and how, right at that moment, the only thing that mattered to him was trying to ease her pain. He thought of her, and about how he didn't want to blink into non-existence and leave her to be tortured. So, just as the vice was about to crush his neck, he gasped out, "Data." His voice was so strangled that he doubted Gul Ropek, or whoever else was watching him could have heard. But it was enough for the machine to know that he was telling the truth. The pressure on his neck and shoulders lessened immediately, and he sucked in air greedily. "My name is Data," he repeated. Ropek eyed him. "Data?" he echoed. "Not a very usual name for a human." "No," Data agreed. "No it's not." If the Gul was giving the issue any further consideration, he didn't show it. "And who do you work for?" "I..." Data wasn't really sure what would classify as being a truthful response. "I don't work for anyone. I was rescued by the prisoners who escaped from your compound, so I helped them with the prison break." The vice didn't respond, although Data was sure his heart rate was through the roof. "Why did you do this?" pried the Gul. "I am against the action that the Cardassians have taken against the Bajorans." "Who was in charge of the mission?" "No one, it was an independent..." his shoulders were jerked back violently, and the vice cut into his neck. "Bink..." he gasped. The vice loosened. "And who is this... Bink?" asked Ropek. "Shaldous Binket. He escaped from the compound." Had Data not been reeling from the pain and the tranquilizer, he might have seen a brief flicker of realization on Gul Ropek's shadowed face. As it was, though, he didn't even think to look. "I see," said Ropek, masking his feelings with masterful ease. "And he was in charge of the mission?" Data was about to say 'in a manner of speaking', but given the nature of the situation he settled for a straightforward, "Yes." Ropek nodded. Then, in something just short of a shout, he said, "Lights!" Instantly, the whole room lit up. Data closed his eyes in response to the change. He opened them again slowly, squinting gingerly. "Unhook him," he heard Ropek say. He was barely aware as a guard who had apparently been in the room the whole time came over and unlocked his hands and feet, and then released the bars over his shoulders. Then they released the vice from his neck. Data quickly realized that it was all that had been holding him up, as he tumbled from where he had been sitting onto a cold cement floor. His face rested against the cool surface, and he couldn't help but marvel at how good it felt against his skin. For the moment, all he wanted was to stay on that cold floor and sleep. And, to his surprise, no one tried to stop him. _____________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newshub.sdsu.edu!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!border2.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 3/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 117 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:55:06 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098737487 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:51:27 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:51:27 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161155 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:06:39 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 3/33 "Data..." Data's eyelids fluttered, but he didn't open his eyes. "Data..." He took a slow, deep breath of air that was filled with the most intoxicating aroma he had ever encountered. "Data..." said the voice again. "Data... wake up..." Data opened his eyes, and sat up. Expecting to find himself on the floor of a Cardassian prison cell, he was rather surprised to find himself lying in the grass under the hand-like branches of a Bajoran silver oak--a very familiar Bajoran silver oak. "Mika?" he asked, more hopeful than anything else. "Mmmmm..." He got to his feet, finding none of the stiffness that he expected he would have after the treatment he'd endured the day before. In fact, he couldn't remember a time when he'd felt better. There was no wind on the hill this time. The air was almost eerily still, and as he stepped out from under the tree branches, he saw the brilliant Bajoran sun beating down on him. "Mika?" he called out again. "Data." He turned, and saw Mika sitting down behind him by the trunk of the tree. Data wondered why he hadn't seen her before. "Data..." she said again. "You should be sleeping." She patted the ground beside her, indicating that he should take a seat. Data sat down beside her, and looked at her. She was wearing a simple, white dress, which seemed to cling in all the right places, and flowed out gracefully in every place necessary to feel comfortable. It had no sleeves, exposing Mika's thin, but muscled arms. One thing that did strike Data as odd, however, was how soft and scar-less her skin appeared. Even the jagged scar on her left cheek was no longer apparent. "Mika... How can you be here? I thought we were in the prison." "Mmmmm..." she pressed a slender finger to his lips with a feather light touch. Data blinked, and in as much time as it took him to open his eyes, Mika was gone. "Mika?" He stood up again, and looked around him. He finally spotted her, looking out over the fields. She had her arms crossed under her breasts, and she appeared to be deep in thought. The flowing bottom of her long dress billowed out behind her, at the mercy of a non-existent wind. Data approached her, and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. She didn't respond, as though she didn't notice he was there. "Data..." she said, speaking very softly. "I'm scared. I don't want to die, Data." "I know Mika... But you don't have to worry. I'll protect you." She did turn to him then, and he watched as her mouth curved upwards in a haunted smile. The smile kept getting bigger and bigger, until she was grinning, and then laughing, laughing hysterically. Data stared at her, shocked at her behavior. But Mika kept laughing. It seemed to get louder and louder the longer it went on. It surrounded Data from all sides, and echoed off invisible walls, bouncing back on him in endless waves. It even continued after Mika herself had actually stopped making the noise. She leaned in towards him, her lips almost touching his ear. "You couldn't save me if the whole Cardassian army helped you." With that, she turned from him and jumped over the edge of a cliff that hadn't been there a moment before. Aghast, Data hurried to the edge of the cliff and gazed down over its edge as Mika's body descended, the white folds of her dress sailing out behind her. "Mika!" he called out desperately, hopelessly. "MIKA!" Data's eyes flew open with a start. His breathing coming in ragged gasps, he ran his hands across his still bare chest, trying to steady himself. He moaned softly as he tried to make his body move into a sitting position. Running a hand over a sore spot on his right shoulder, he saw the bruises for the first time. They were large, purple and blue splotches that ran from the tops of his shoulders almost to the center of his chest. His throat was also sore. It was yet another new experience for Data, but he tried to ignore it. So there he was; half naked, bruised and battered, with no idea what time, or even what day it was, sitting on the floor of a cell in a Cardassian prison, waiting for... something. More torture? Death? Food... He was really hungry, he realized. By his estimate, which wasn't nearly as accurate as it used to be, he hadn't eaten for almost three days. Just as the thought of food occurred to him, Data heard the door of his cell clang open. A Cardassian guard stepped in, and dropped off a small square wrapped in some sort of plastic covering. Prison rations, Data realized. As soon as the guard was gone, Data leapt to his feet--leap being a relative term for someone who's every muscle was in pain--eager to investigate his delivery. When a wave of dizziness swept over him, he decided that it had been a really stupid thing to do. Shaking it off, he bent down and grabbed his package off the floor. He unwrapped it with hurried fingers that probably made the job harder than it had to be. It was indeed rations. A single nutritional supplement bar; enough to keep a person alive, but nothing more than that. Data ate it hungrily. He wished he had some water to drink, although he was well aware it was a foolish thought, seeing as the nutritional supplements provided the body with both food and water. It was such a debilitating thing, this human need for sustenance. Like so many other things since he had found out the truth about his android identity, it bothered Data to know that there had been a time when he had needed no such thing. He moved over to where the hard slab of concrete that constituted a bunk stuck out from the wall, and sat down. He leaned up against the wall and brought up his knees, wrapping his arms around them. It reminded him of the early days aboard the stolen transport. Often had he sat on his bunk there, knees tucked up, thinking about his situation. As he sat there, he found himself wondering whether Mika had been as naive as he had been when they'd decided to undertake the rescue effort. He doubted it. After all, she'd grown up in the prisons and the camps, and she knew what they could expect if they got caught. Data had not had the luxury--if it could be called that--of that experience. But perhaps it had been for the best; had he known of the consequences before, he couldn't help but wonder whether or not he would still go through with the mission. He hated himself for thinking it, and admired Mika more. He fell asleep about an hour later, his back still pressed up against the wall. The routine of sleep, torture, and healing would become a daily ritual for him, and one that was his only means of survival. It would be over a month before he was offered any chance to escape. ___________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!wns13feed!worldnet.att.net!63.223.20.72!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 4/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 57 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:56:05 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098737549 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:52:29 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:52:29 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161156 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:07:47 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 4/33 One month later... "Captain... we are receiving a distress call." Captain Jean-Luc Picard shot a glance over his shoulder in the direction of Lt. Worf, his security chief. "Origin of the signal, Mr. Worf?" The Klingon consulted his readings. "It seems to be coming from somewhere in the Onias sector," he rumbled. "Who's sending the signal?" "Judging by the frequency of the pulses," came the reply from science officer Susan Atkins. "I would say it's Cardassian." Picard sat up straighter in his chair, his curiosity immediately piqued. "Are there any other ships in the vicinity?" "We are the closest ship," Worf confirmed. "Set course for the source of the signal, warp factor 4," ordered Picard. "Engage." The conn officer entered the coordinates he'd received from Mr. Worf, and the ship jumped into warp. First Officer Wil Riker looked over at Picard. "The Cardassians... stranded in the Onias system? That's not familiar territory for them." "No it's not," Picard agreed. "But hopefully, we'll see what they're doing there." Riker nodded, as eager as his captain to see what they would find when they reached the Cardassian ship. ___________________________________________________________ "Approaching the Cardassian ship now, captain," announced Atkins. "Slow to impulse," ordered Picard. "Are we within sensor ranger?" "Scanning now, sir," Atkins confirmed. "Their impulse drive is inoperative. Warp drive is inoperative. Life support is stable... they have limited shields and offensive weapons." "Mr. Worf, open a channel." "Channel open, sir." Picard stood up, along with Riker. "On screen." The starfield switched over to show not a Cardassian, but a Romulan female, dressed in civilian clothing. Not Romulan civilian clothing, either. If Picard had to hazard a guess, he would say that the earthy colours and loose fabrics were Bajoran. "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise," said Picard. "Please identify yourselves." A brief flicker of barely disguised surprise passed over the Romulan's features. "The Enterprise?" "That is correct," Picard confirmed. "Please identify yourselves." "My name is Sal," she began, seeming to have recovered from her surprise. "And I am the captain of this vessel. My crew is of mixed blood, as are my passengers. We are all seeking asylum from the Cardassian government." ____________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!bigfeed2.bellsouth.net!news.bellsouth.net!cyclone1.gnilink.net!gnilink.net!chi1.usenetserver.com!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 5/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 72 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:57:35 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098737637 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:53:57 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:53:57 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161157 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:09:12 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 5/33 Days seemed like weeks, minutes like hours. Every day there was a new pain to experience, each more archaic than the last. He was subjected to psychological manipulation, as well as physical abuse of almost every kind. One time, he was given drugs that wouldn't allow him to fall asleep. That particular experiment had lasted approximately three days before Gul Ropek grew bored with it. There was another time somewhat later on when Data had said something to the Gul about personal honor. Ropek had responded to the comment by declaring that he didn't want Data to be able to look him in the eye. So he burned off the skin on Data's feet. Not personally, of course, but it was Ropek who gave the order, and he who watched the whole time as they took the phaser-welder to Data's bare feet. It had taken two guards to hold Data down during the procedure, and he had screamed. Data had never screamed before in his entire life, but he screamed then. It was a full week before he could even stand again, and at least another week after that before he was able to walk without a noticeable limp. There were other days in between when Ropek had simply settled for having the guards beat Data, or maybe just have him hang with his arms chained to the roof overnight... or day, or whatever the hell they used to measure time in the complex that never saw the sun. Truth be told, Data was beginning to wonder if the whole notion of sunshine was just a myth in itself. Through everything that went on, Data forced himself to remember Mika. He forced himself to keep believing that she was alive, and whenever he had time to think, he used it to plan a possible escape. He envisioned himself overpowering the guards as they led him down the hall, stealing a phaser, and then breaking Mika out of her cell. He and Mika would run down the corridor, and up a staircase, where they would break through a large steel door. When they opened the door, the sunshine would come down on them like a cloud of happiness, and they would run through the door together. Then they would kiss. He could feel her soft lips against his... could smell the scent of her... It was then that he would usually end the fantasy. It was far too fanciful on his part, and it only served to remind him of how hopeless his current situation was. As time went on, Data also noticed a slight change in Gul Ropek. Data could sense that the Gul was somehow surprised by him, probably because he didn't think he would last as long as he had. It got to the point where there was almost an... admiration... although Data had to admit that it may have been slightly too strong an adjective. Data also became aware that he was by no means the only prisoner over which Gul Ropek was concerning himself. If he had to hazard a guess, he would say that the Gul was overseeing the torture of each of those who had been captured during the attempted prison break. He was also fairly certain that many of those charges had already perished, as Ropek seemed to be increasing the length of his visits all the time. Although he had at first tried not to, Data thought a great deal about those who might have already died. He pictured each of the crewmen who had served on the ship under his command. He also thought about how he might have ultimately caused each of their deaths. It was that guilt that made Data convince himself that he deserved the whip lashes he was currently receiving. Before, such pain might have made him call out, or cry, or... or... something. Now, though, he couldn't find the energy to care. He simply accepted the pain as it came, and dealt with it accordingly. What made this particular session unusual, however, was that a Cardassian official arrived, with a message for Gul Ropek. After speaking to the newcomer in low tones, the Gul ordered the guard to stop whipping Data. "Take him down," he ordered. "We're done for today." Then he exited the room with the other Cardassian. As requested by Ropek, the guard removed the braces holding Data's arms in place, and took him back to his cell. Once there, Data ripped off pieces of his shirt and used them to stop the bleeding coming from the slashes in his back. He then sat on his bunk and leaned up against the wall in order to keep the strips in place. It was almost inconceivable that something could have been important enough to have Gul Ropek call off the session, and Data found that the prospect made him slightly nervous. _____________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!prodigy.com!atl-c02.usenetserver.com!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 6/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 113 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:58:45 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098737707 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:55:07 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:55:07 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161158 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:10:13 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 6/33 Captain Jean-Luc Picard eyed the Romulan female sitting on the other side of the desk in his ready room. She was outwardly calm, and, given the situation at hand, Picard found himself appreciating that about her. She didn't speak. She simply looked straight at him, as though she were oblivious to her reason for being there and was waiting for him to clarify it. "Give me one good reason why I should believe what you've already told me." Picard demanded. "Because it's the truth," she replied. "Not good enough." "I can't give you any more proof than that, Captain. I just don't see what purpose you think I would have for making up something so preposterous." Picard nodded. "Good question." "Then why don't you believe me?" she asked. "I have offered you the location of your missing officer, and so far you have done nothing but ignore everything I've told you. I would have thought that someone who Data held in such confidence would be a man of more integrity, but obviously I was mistaken. I can't believe you would..." "I've contacted the compound's administrative office, Captain." interrupted the captain. Sal simply nodded. "What did you find out?" "They say they haven't seen him," Picard answered. Sal shook her head. "That can't be. His mission was to infiltrate the complex and bring down the compound's sensors. I also know, for a fact, that he not only succeeded in disabling the sensors, but also infected the Cardassians' whole system with a computer virus, which enabled us to destroy the enemy ship which pursued us. He must have been inside the compound for at least four minutes to have accomplished that, and I can't honestly believe they wouldn't have tried to stop him." "Just because they say he isn't there, doesn't mean it's the truth," said Picard. "Against my better judgement, I believe what you've told me. As such, I also believe that Commander Data is a prisoner at the compound." Again, there was no outward reaction from the Romulan. "So you think that they're just lying to you because they don't want to admit the treaty violation that they would have committed by torturing a Federation officer." Picard nodded. "Correct, although it may be more complicated than that. If Data has claimed he acted of his own accord, and was not authorized by anyone for his actions, then it may be more difficult to get him out of there." "Why is that?" The captain regarded her, seemingly surprised that she didn't know the rule. "The treaty clearly states that the no torture ruling only applies if the prisoner's actions have been authorized by the Federation." he thought back to the time he himself had been tortured at the hands of Gul Madred. "Trust me, I know." "So... what are you going to do?" asked Sal. "We're going to hold this position." he replied. "I wouldn't be surprised if the administration office contacts us again before long." As if on cue, Picard's communicator beeped to life. "Bridge to Captain Picard," came the voice of Commander Riker. Picard tapped his communicator. "Picard, here." "We're being hailed by the administration office," Riker explained. "On my way," he then tapped his communicator a second time and got up from his seat. "It would be best if you're not on the bridge, in case you're recognized," he told Sal. "But you may listen to the communication through the ready room, if you wish." Sal nodded in acknowledgement as Picard went through the sliding door to the bridge. "On screen," said the captain as he strode to the centre of the bridge, stopping beside Commander Riker, who was also standing. "Aye, sir," acknowledged Worf from behind the tactical console. The image of the Cardassian prison administrator immediately appeared on the screen. This time, though, there was another Cardassian standing behind him. "Administrator," greeted Picard. "I did not expect to see you again so soon." "The pleasure is mine, Captain Picard," said the administrator, in a tone that suggested he felt exactly the opposite. "May I introduce, Gul Ropek." The Cardassian who had been standing behind the administrator now stepped forward, and gave a slight nod. "Greetings, captain," "Gul," Picard returned cordially. "To what do I owe the honor?" Gul Ropek smiled. It made Picard feel cold, although he wasn't entirely certain why. "The administrator has discussed with me the issue of your missing officer," he said. "And may I say that I am deeply sorry for keeping you waiting. I was... indisposed... when you first hailed the compound." "Apology accepted, Gul Ropek. Am I to understand, then, that you do have information concerning my missing officer?" "We are not sure that he is the officer you seek," replied the Gul. "But we would be willing to permit you to send one of your officers down to the compound for the purpose of verifying his authenticity." Picard wanted to look over to see what reaction Riker was having, but he resisted the urge. "Terms accepted, " he said simply. "I will be sending down one of my officers shortly." The Gul smiled again. "We will be ready. Administration office, out." The screen returned to the customary starfield as the communication was severed. Picard turned instantly to Counselor Troi, who was still seated in her chair at Picard's left. "I don't know," she answered to the captain's unspoken question. "I sense no deception on Gul Ropek's part, but I can't be certain." "I don't know if it's a good idea," said Riker. "I would prefer it if we were able to send a full away team, so that we could have some security present. But just sending in one person..." Picard nodded. "I share your suspicion, Number One. But under the circumstances, I am prepared to take the risk." A pause. "I'd like to volunteer for this mission," said Riker. Deanna Troi got to her feet and approached the Captain and First Officer. "You know, if Data really is down there, I bet I know someone else who would really appreciate this assignment." "Geordi," Picard nodded thoughtfully. "I won't order him, but I do think we should offer him the assignment. Any objections, Number One?" Riker shook his head. "None, sir." Picard tapped his communicator. "Commander LaForge, please report to the bridge." _________________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 7/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 93 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:59:40 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098737761 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:56:01 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:56:01 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161159 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:11:11 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 7/33 Geordi LaForge tried not to look at the faces of the prisoners as he followed the guard down the corridor. Like a resident on ancient earth passing a homeless person on the street, it was easier to pretend what he was seeing wasn't real if he didn't make eye contact--to not acknowledge the bodies he passed as individuals, as it were. He did shoot one glance to his right as they walked. A Bajoran prisoner--he couldn't tell whether they were male or female--who was huddled in the far corner of a small cell with a tattered rag that had once been a blanket, was there to meet his gaze. Geordi's first impulse was to look away instantly, but he resisted the impulse, and looked on a moment longer, long enough to see the deep hurt and fear buried in the prisoner's eyes. He could only begin to imagine what this prisoner must have been through, and even that would be the stuff of nightmares. Once again focusing his gaze on the bleak hall in front of him, Geordi had to take a step to catch up with the guard; the Cardassian did not seem to notice. As they kept walking, Geordi felt himself getting more and more fearful about what they would find when they got there. Was this really Data? And if so, how was it possible? Would he have the same haunted look in his eyes as the other prisoner had? Somehow, Geordi couldn't picture any look at all in Data's eyes. It made somewhat more nervous about what he might find. The Cardassian guard stopped abruptly, and Geordi was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost ran into him. "Prisoner 1789342," he said flatly, using his laser key to open the bared door. "Your time is limited." Geordi nodded silently, and slipped past the guard and into the cell. He felt a chill run up his spine as the cold metal closed behind him. There was movement in the corner, that looked like someone scrambling to their feet. "What do you want?" came the voice of the cell's occupant. Geordi couldn't believe his ears. That voice... but it was different. Not calm and collected, but... on edge, somehow. Fighting the urge to take a step towards the still shadowed figure, Geordi said, "You don't... recognize me at all?" There was a rather lengthy pause. When the man spoke again, it was in a softer tone, which Geordi felt was more reminiscent of Data. "Geordi...?" Geordi gave a half laugh as he let out a breath he forgot he was holding. "Yeah. Yeah, it's me. Geordi LaForge." The shadowed figure finally stepped into the light where Geordi could see him. Having been prepared to be stunned by Data suddenly appearing in front of him, he was rather unimpressed by what he saw. The man was dressed in little more than rags. He wore what was left of a pair of pants, and basically no shirt. The first thing that struck Geordi, however, was how skinny the guy was; he looked like he hadn't had a decent meal in years. Geordi then looked up into the man's face. He had been hesitant to do so, perhaps because he still feared that it would all turn out to be a wild goose chase. His curiosity got the better of him, however, and he looked. At first inspection, he didn't look anything like Geordi's missing android friend. He had hair that was slightly too long, accompanied by a thin, unkempt beard which wasn't so much wanted as it was a result of not being given the opportunity to shave. Then the engineer forced himself to look into the man's eyes. Even through his visor, there was something about the man's eyes. When he looked into them, he somehow knew. "Data," he breathed. There was silence for a moment as the two regarded each other. Geordi found that the longer he looked at the man's face, the more he looked like Data. He began to see the finer points that he hadn't noticed before; his nose, his eyebrows, even his mouth and the shape of his face. "What are you doing here?" Data asked. "How did you know I was here?" "We..." Geordi looked around him. "A friend of yours told us." Data eyed him, and Geordi saw the situation obviously warranted more information. "A Romulan," he said. "Sal." Data raised his eyebrows at the engineer. "Sal? Is she all right?" "She's fine," Geordi assured him. "She came with others. They're all fine too." "How..." Data paused. "How... how many others?" "One ship." Data expelled a breath, and nodded. "Of course... I didn't really think..." he trailed off, obviously lost in his own thoughts. "Data?" It was enough to get his attention, bringing him back to the present. "It's... good to see you." Data nodded. "Likewise." The two men stood there for a moment, in the uncomfortable silence of two friends who have so much to discuss they don't know where to start. "So..." Data began. "What are you doing here? You got me out of my morning exercises." "Exercises?" echoed Geordi. "Uh, yeah... Sorry, it's..." he stopped, seemingly embarrassed at his stuttering. "I don't really want to talk about it." "You've been tortured?" asked Geordi. "Look, I don't want to talk about it..." "Data, you know as well as I do that it's against the treaty the Cardassian have with the Federation. If you have been tortured..." "I don't want to talk about it." Geordi stopped talking, taken back by the force in Data's voice. He'd never heard him raise his voice before. Ever. It would take some getting used to. NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 8/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 114 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:01:00 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098737842 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:57:22 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:57:22 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161161 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:12:34 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 8/33 Data regarded him a moment longer, then lowered his eyes. He released a breath, seeming to relax his whole body as he did so. "Look," he began again, this time in a much calmer tone. "I'm sorry. You've got to understand, though, I've kind of been through a lot here. In response to your question, I think it's fairly obvious, even to a blind man, that yes, I have been tortured, the details of which I have no desire to relive now, or ever. My good friend was shot through the head while I was trying to escape, and my ship crashed, killing I don't know how many of my crew, and until you told me that you found Sal, I had no idea that anyone had even gotten away at all. On top of that, I haven't had a shower, or anything decent to eat for..." he paused. "How long has it been?" "A month," Geordi supplied. "A month..." Data appeared to be doing some calculations in his head. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "I believe it. You know what's weird, though? If I'd had to guess, I wouldn't have guessed it was that long. The days all seem to blend together in here. You start to loose track of when one day begins... and the other ends. It's like one... long... nightmare. "Most of my officers are dead, I think. One of them... One of them, she went by yesterday. I remember her. She worked the conn on transport 2. Until I saw her, I wasn't even sure that they'd taken transport 2. I thought that maybe... just maybe... With the computer virus at least..." he stopped, either unwilling, or unable, to go on. "I studied the virus that you filtered into the system," Geordi said, hoping it would be easier for Data if he changed the subject. Also, he was interested in how much technological knowledge Data had maintained through his transformation. "It was brilliant," Geordi continued. "The way you disabled the overrides, and essentially caused the system to fold in on itself..." Data snorted. "It was a time saver. They corrected it within an hour. I should have been able to do more. So much more..." Geordi wanted to put a hand on Data's shoulder, but stopped short, as he saw the bruises there. "Listen, Data, it wasn't your fault," Data shook his head. "Why would you think I would be blaming myself?" "Because I know you," Geordi replied. "And I know you're not the sort of person who just lets something like that go." "You know me?" Data echoed. "You know me? You don't have a clue. Look, I'm not Data the android anymore, alright? And I've got thirty scars across my back to prove it! If you know me so well, you wouldn't have bothered to come here at all!" "Why?" "Because I know you. Because I know that Captain Picard is going to pull some kind of diplomatic trickery to try and get me out of here, and more likely than not, he'll succeed. And you shouldn't have bothered coming, because there's no way in hell I'm coming with you." "Data..." Geordi wasn't quite sure what his friend was getting at. "Are you saying that even if we do get you permission to leave... you won't come?" "I won't come," said Data. "unless I know the other prisoners are coming with me." Geordi stared at his friend. Hearing him say that statement was almost the weirdest thing that had happened yet. "Data... We're talking about the Prime Directive, here. You can't just use the Federation's technology to blast into a Cardassian prison." "Why not?" Geordi stared at Data a moment longer, then shook his head, smiling in disbelief. "Geordi, most of the people here haven't even committed any crimes," Data tried to explain. "And if they have, they're petty offenses. Theft, disturbing the peace... Most of which occurred while they were interned in Cardassian labor camps. Hell... I'm probably the biggest offender in here." "Data..." "Geordi, this is an institution that originated during the occupation, housing people who committed crimes under the dictatorial rule of a racially impartial government! These aren't even crimes we're talking about! They're what any sane person with any sense of decency would do! This prison is the occupation, and it should have ended along with the occupation. Surely, Geordi, you can see that." "Data," Geordi began again, choosing his words carefully. "I can't deny the truth of what you're saying. And maybe it would be the right thing to do to just screw all the Federation rules that have been in place for centuries, and do what, under these circumstances, might be the right thing to do. But, consider this: doing it once makes it that much easier for us to do it again. And once we start doing that, flying around the galaxy, and using whatever means necessary to right what we might perceive as wrongs... We end up making decisions concerning the future and welfare of other species. And that's not justice. That's playing God. Furthermore, it's not a hell of a lot different than what the Cardassians did to the Bajorans for 60 years." Data stared back at his friend with the pure honesty of someone who is so confident in their viewpoint that they know they have nothing to hide. "Since you claim to know me so well, you would have to believe I'd have taken that into account. And believe me, it's going to take more that reciting Starfleet Academy lesson one on the Prime Directive to get me to change my mind." Geordi shook his head in frustration at Data's stubbornness. "We're going to get you out of here." Data gave a half smile. "Considering that I'm locked in a cell surrounded by guards, there's not a whole lot I can do to stop you. I'm just letting you know that no matter what happens, I'm not backing down on this." Geordi didn't respond. He wasn't sure he could think of anything to say. Data was behaving irrationally, and making decisions on emotions rather than on fact. He was behaving... like a human. Data glanced at the open hallway as though making sure no one was eavesdropping before he felt safe to say what he did next. "I want to ask you to do me a favour, though. Off the books." Suspicious, but curious, Geordi nodded. "I'm listening." "I need to look into the prison records," he said. "Look up a Bajoran called Talara Mikal. Find out if she's here and... if she's still alive." Geordi immediately picked up on the sudden concern that was evident in Data's voice and his person, but he chose not to comment. "Okay, Data. I'll let you know, assuming I ever get to see you again." There was a sound at the door, and both men turned to see what it was. They watched as the door opened, and the two guards who had let Geordi in stepped through. "Well," Geordi exchanged a glance with Data. "See you later." Data nodded, but didn't say anything, as Geordi followed the two guards out of the cell, and down the hall. The door closed with its customary clang, but Data was so used to it by that time, he barely noticed. _________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!prodigy.com!atl-c02.usenetserver.com!chi1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!snoopy.risq.qc.ca!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 9/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 70 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:01:45 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098737887 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:58:07 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:58:07 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161162 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:13:21 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 9/33 There was a certain air of tension in the conference room, and everyone felt it. Geordi LaForge was right at the centre of it. He had seen Data, he knew the truth about what was going on. Yet no one had asked him about it yet. Instead, each of the senior staff waited in silence for the captain to arrive, at which time Geordi would give his formal report. The door hissed open, and Jean-Luc Picard entered, taking his seat at the head of the conference room table. He looked into the anxious faces of each of his officers before he spoke. Everyone on the senior staff was there, including Data's replacement, Lieutenant Commander Susan Atkins, whom had transferred to the Enterprise at starbase as Data's replacement once he went missing. Picard couldn't help but notice the apprehension in the face of the normally composed Atkins. He couldn't exactly blame her. If Data was in the prison below, she was probably going to be out of a job. "I suppose we all know why we're here," Picard began. "But just in case anyone isn't completely clear, this is the situation: Lt. Commander Data has been discovered in a Cardassian prison camp, and he is fully human. He was captured while taking part in an attempted prison break, with the aid of other prison escapees. Our Mr. LaForge has recently visited our Commander Data, and I believe he has a report to make. Mr. LaForge?" Geordi shifted uncomfortably in his chair. It had been at least a couple of hours since he'd spoken with Data at the compound, so he had certainly had plenty of time to think about what to say. But he still felt the eyes of everyone at the table on him. "I spoke with him, and... it is Data, sir. I'm sure of that." There were glances exchanged all across the table. "How was he, Geordi?" asked Picard. "Truthfully, not so good," replied the engineer. "He's been tortured, and he also believes that the rest of his ship's compliment has been tortured, with many of them having already died." Beverly looked across the table at Geordi rather hesitantly. "Did he mention it because he's worried about them?" Geordi gave a rueful smile. "That's something of an understatement. I think he feels responsible for what's happened." "Captain," began Deanna Troi. "If Data really is human, then much of what he's been going through must be incredibly traumatic for him. Pain, guilt, fear, anxiety... these are all still relatively new experiences for him. The fact that he's been able to survive torture at the hands of the Cardassians for as long as he has is a miracle in itself." Picard nodded. "Agreed. Do you think what he's gone through may have caused any permanent psychological damage?" "I think it would be reasonable to say that anyone in that environment would run the risk of suffering permanent psychological damage," replied the counselor. "But with Data, where everything that happens is basically a new experience, I think that the risk is even greater." "So your recommendation is to try and get him out of there before he goes crazy," Picard extrapolated. "That would be my recommendation, yes." The captain took a moment to consider her advice, then turned his attention back to Geordi. "What do you think, Mr. LaForge? You're the only one who's spoken to him. How do you think he's handling the situation?" Geordi thought back to Data pleading for the lives of the other prisoners, and how their opinions had clashed on the topic. "I think he's handling it remarkably well. He didn't seem concerned about his own welfare so much as he was concerned about the other prisoners at the compound." "Explain," ordered Picard. The engineer took a deep breath. "Well, he seemed adamant that we shouldn't try to get him out of the prison unless we were planning to at least try and help the rest of the prisoners. He also wanted me to look up the prisoner files of one of the people from the mission: a Bajoran female by the name of Talara Mikal." Picard tapped his communicator. "Commander Sal, please report to the conference room." NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 10/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 76 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:02:55 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098737956 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:59:16 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 16:59:16 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161163 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:14:31 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 10/33 There wasn't much more than a ten second delay before the door hissed open, and the Romulan stepped in. "You sent for me, captain," she said. "Yes," he acknowledged. "Please, take a seat." She did as he instructed, taking a seat on the left side of the table near the end. "What do you know of a Bajoran by the name of Talara Mikal?" asked Picard once she was seated. Sal displayed an immediate reaction to the name. Her eyes darted around the room in one quick, obviously restrained, motion, finally coming to a halt on Picard. "Why? What's happened to her?" "Hopefully nothing," replied the captain. "Her name has come up, and we wanted to know if you knew anything about her." Sal eyed him, weighing the consequences of telling the truth with the possibly that she was being manipulated. "Mika was one of the leaders of our original escape from the prison. She was also the one who first suggested the attempted prison break. She was in command of one of our ships, the second one to loose shields. Some of her crew escaped, but she was never accounted for. I'd hoped that she was taken prisoner. That's why I was scared when you asked about her; I thought that maybe she was already dead." Picard wasn't unsympathetic. "You were a friend of hers, then." "Yes, but..." she paused. "I would be more concerned about Gu... er, Data. If he knew she was dead, I don't think we'd ever see him again." The captain looked at her. "What do you mean by that?" Sal looked at him as though he was asking her how to tie his shoe. "He loves her." A complete and utter silence swept over the conference room. They were all in relative awe of their stupidity regarding what had just gone on. It should have been obvious to them as soon as Data had asked for her records specifically. But it hadn't been. Maybe because it was Data that they were thinking of, and for Data to be in love with someone... I would take some getting used to. Picard was the first to recover from his shock. "That will be all, Captain." Sal acknowledged him with a nod, and obediently left the conference room. Picard then swiveled in his chair to face Counselor Troi. "Counselor?" Deanna looked very troubled, and Picard couldn't blame her. Her job had just become a whole lot harder. "I almost think she's right, sir. Right now, for Data to have to deal with the loss of someone he loves, and has possibly had a relationship with... it would be devastating to him. It is my recommendation that if we do find evidence suggesting the death of this woman, we should not inform Data until we at least have him on board the ship, where he can be offered counseling and support." "I would have to agree," said Picard. "Which brings us to our second issue: how do we get him out of there?" "We would have to acknowledge that he acted on orders from the Federation," said Riker, entering the conversation for the first time. "Just like when you were captured, sir." The captain shook his head. "I really don't see how that's an option. Saying that he acted on behalf of the Federation would be enough to start a war." he looked around the table. "Other suggestions?" "We could just ask Gul Ropek to let him go," everyone craned their neck around to see who had spoken. It was Susan Atkins. "If I may say sir," she continued. "We've been trying to make things harder for ourselves. We've been acting under the assumption that the Cardassians would refuse to let Commander Data go, without bothering to see if that was the case." Picard smiled toothlessly at the science officer. "Maybe the rest of us have spent too much time on the Enterprise," he said, then addressed the rest of the senior staff. "The commander is right, of course. Mr. Worf, hail the administration office. Dismissed." _________________________________________________________ "Of course, Captain Picard," smiled the Gul. "I would not dream of detaining your officer further. He will be returned to you within the hour. Administration office out." As the image on the viewer was replaced with the starfield, Picard had a sinking feeling in his stomach that what had just occurred had been much too easy. _________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 11/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 35 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:04:07 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738027 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:00:27 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:00:27 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161164 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:15:41 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 11/33 The door to Data's door clonked open, and two guards entered. He was rather surprised, and a little worried about their arrival. It had been his understanding that the session had been over for the day when Gul Ropek had received the message, which was presumably about Geordi's subsequent visit. And even without an internal chronometer, he was fairly sure that another day had not already passed. "Prisoner 2781083," said one of the guards in a flat tone. "You will come with us." Data didn't budge. "Why? What's this about?" "You will come, or we'll carry you," said the second guard. Data gave a sigh of resignation. "Fine." He followed the guards out into the corridor. Then he followed them down the hall. Alone. They didn't hold on to his arms like they usually did. Data was almost choking on his surprise. He had waited so long for an opportunity to escape, and now he had it. As they rounded the corner, he threw an elbow to the head of the guard on his left. The second guard seemed surprised, which gave Data enough time to grab the fallen guard's phaser. Within seconds, both the guards were stunned, and Data was rushing down the hall. It was rather hopeless, as he had no idea where the exit was. Then again, any hope at all was better than nothing, so he kept running down the corridor. After he'd rounded a couple of corners, he came to a door with an armed guard stationed in front on it. He stunned the guard before the Cardassian even had a chance to react, and then used the unconscious man's handprint to open the door. It hissed open, and the only thing Data saw was a fist coming at his face before everything went black. _________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 12/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 110 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:05:51 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738133 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:02:13 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:02:13 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161165 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:17:22 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 12/33 Data awoke with a pounding headache. As he had learned to do from experience, he sat up slowly, and took in his surroundings. Finding himself surrounded by the familiar, plain grey walls of his cell felt almost like a homecoming. This was his sanctuary; the only place he could be safe from torture, and where he could be alone with his thoughts. He ran his hands across his body, doing his customary search for abnormalities. When he found none--except, of course, for those of which he was already aware--he breathed a sigh of relief. And then he heard it. A scream, a feminine scream--although, considering the kinds of torture the Cardassians employed, one could never be sure. Still, Data somehow knew it was important. He knew he should help, somehow. Ignoring his headache, he swung himself off his bunk and ran to the door of his cell. He grasped the bars in a desperate grip as he tried in vain to see down the hallway in either direction. He even shook the bars, feeling suddenly frantic. Again, the scream tore through the air. It was a wrenching, shaking, piercing noise, like that of a wild animal... Or a human being, enduring ultimate suffering. Data knew he couldn't bear to hear the sound again. Somehow, he had to get out of his cell. He stepped back, away from the door, and took a run at it, throwing his body up against the steel bars. He was bounced backwards, landing painfully on the cement floor. But he was undeterred. Again, he stepped backwards, a little further this time, and threw all of his insubstantial mass against the door. And again, he was thrown to the ground. His breathing was coming in ragged gasps and moans as he threw himself up against the bars again and again. And each time he was thrown backwards. Each time, he felt the pain riffling through his body as new bruises were formed, many over already existing ones. His skin bled, finally breaking under the repeated contact. But he knew he had to escape. Somehow... he had to escape. He threw his battered body up against the door, his franticness having descended into desperation, which had become absolutely madness. He moaned in fury and frustration, not even remembering what it was that had brought him there. Only that he had to get out of his cell... He could try one last time. If he put everything he had into it, it just might work. And so he ran at the door, and hurled his broken and bleeding flesh against it, a sum of all the rage and pain and anguish for which he couldn't recall the source. He then called out in surprise and victory as he tumbled through the door. The edge of the cliff came upon him too rapidly for him to be able to stop his accelerated motion. He tumbled over the edge of it, down towards a non-existent bottom. In a last, futile gesture, he flailed his arms, reaching out for something, anything, to hold on to. It was nothing short of a miracle when his fingers managed to grab onto the sharp edge of the cliff. He held himself there, his legs dangling down into the mouth of the abyss, trying to steady his breathing so that he could focus enough to try and pull himself back up over the edge. "Data..." All other things forgotten, Data cared only about hearing Mika's voice again. "Mika?" She stepped up to the edge of the cliff. Her head was tilted down towards him, although she kept her body perfectly straight. Her white dress billowed in a wind Data couldn't feel. "My dear Data," she smiled down at him. "What have you gotten yourself into now?" "I fell over the cliff when I was trying to break out of my cell," he explained. "Please... you have to help me." "My dear Data..." she shook her head slowly and deliberately. "You should be sleeping." "I tried, but..." "Shhhh..." she put a finger to her lips. Data looked up into her face. It felt as though he hadn't seen her in centuries, because only the passing of centuries would have been enough for him to forget how beautiful she was. "Mika... are you alright? I thought I heard..." Her lips curved upwards into a smile. They seemed to turn ruby red before his eyes. And as he continued to watch, her dress began to change. Blood red branches of colour began to wind their way up the white, from the flowing bottom to the clinging top. It was a deeper red than Data had ever seen, but at the same time it was also brighter. It seemed to both radiate and swallow light at the same time. The colour continued to wind its way around her, until the whole of her dress had become bloodthirsty. It no longer flowed and billowed in the wind. Now, it hung still, accordioning out over her feet in deep, fathomous folds. "My dear Data..." she said again, almost musically. "Do you know where you fall to when you go over the edge of this cliff?" "Where do you go, Mika?" "You go to a place beyond anything you have ever experienced. It is beyond linear existence... it is beyond time... it is beyond thought itself. There exists there a kind of living you have never before experienced. And that is the only reality that really matters." "Have you... been there?" "We all go there... eventually..." With a sudden, violent movement, she stabbed out her foot, and stepped directly on Data's clinging fingers. Data let loose a final, strangled cry of protest before he fell down into the abyss... and into eternity... Data awoke with a pounding headache. He consciously slowed his shaking body, realizing it had only been a dream. Just another dream. He then allowed himself to sink down into the mattress he was lying on--an unusually comfortable mattress. It was his surprise over this development that finally forced him to get up. As he sat up, the first thing he noticed was, despite his pounding headache, how light his head felt. He put a hand on his chin, and realized his beard was gone. His hair was short again, too. He shook his head in confusion. He tried to escape, so the Cardassians took him down, then gave him a shave and a haircut? His confusion grew as he actually looked around the room he was in. There was carpeted floor, and a sink and supersonic shower, as well as a replicator where he could get clean clothes. Data was completely baffled, but rather than dwelling on it, he took what little time he might have to avail himself of the shower. NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 13/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 27 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: <3Sdfd.5345$rs5.339793@news20.bellglobal.com> Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:06:35 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738175 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:02:55 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:02:55 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161166 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:18:12 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 13/33 Sometime later, after Data had showered and dressed in dark pants and a grey T-shirt (he also noticed that he had a brand new black eye from being punched by the guard), there was a ringing sound. Data had to look around to figure out where it had come from. Then he figured it out; it was coming from the door. Now the guards were bothering to announce their arrival to him? Not knowing what else to do, Data said hesitantly, "Come...?" The door hissed open, and a tallish, well-dressed Cardassian entered. "I am the prison administrator," explained the Cardassian. "I assume your needs have been properly attended to?" Data eyed him. "Why, yes they have. Thank you for asking." The administrator smiled. "Good. Then, at your convenience, we will be returning you to your ship." "My ship?" asked Data. "The Enterprise," said the administrator. "If you'll follow me," he gestured to the door. Data was far too surprised to do anything but follow the administrator out into the hall. _____________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newshub.sdsu.edu!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!border2.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 14/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 56 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:07:19 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738219 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:03:39 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:03:39 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161167 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:18:58 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 14/33 Picard, Dr. Beverly Crusher, and Deanna Troi were in the transporter room in preparation for the long-awaited arrival of their friend and former shipmate. It was on Deanna's insistence that no other members of the crew were present. She had thought that it might overwhelm Data, by presenting him with too much, too soon. "I've received the coordinates from the prison," announced the transporter chief. Picard nodded at the young man. "Energize." With a familiar hum, the beam fizzled into life, slowly reassembling the molecules of a very recognizable, yet very different man. He didn't look directly at anyone at first, instead surveying his surroundings. Picard wondered if it felt as much like a homecoming to Data as it did to him. When he finally did settle his blue-grey eyes on them--one of which was surrounded by a deep purple splotch--he looked decidedly unsure. Seeking to put to rest some of that unease, Picard favoured his former Lieutenant Commander with one of his warmest smiles. "Mr. Data... It is good to see you." Data stepped slowly and carefully off the transporter padd, and took a few steps towards Picard and the others. "It's... good to be back, sir." "Data," Beverly chimed in, showing her usual decisiveness. "I'll need to take some scans of you in sickbay, as well as give you a physical examination. It shouldn't take long." Wordlessly, Data nodded. Beverly smiled back at him, and led the way out of the transporter room, and towards sickbay. Picard and Deanna watched the two of them leave. "What emotions do you sense in him?" Picard asked his empathic counselor. "I sense many powerful emotions, sir. Fear, anxiety... but also anger. Whatever else he is feeling, the anger is the most prominent." "Anger?" Picard echoed. "At what?" "I'm not sure," Deanna answered thoughtfully. "But I don't think it will be long before you find out." Picard sighed. He had hoped Data's return to the ship would have been a happier affair than it was turning out to be. "Do you think his anger is dangerous?" "I can't make a prediction to that effect, sir," she replied. "It would be like trying to predict the actions of a stranger. You really have no way of knowing what they'll do next." Picard dropped his eyes, and Deanna was very aware of the disappointment that he was feeling. "But if I had to guess," she continued. "I would say that if any of the Data we know is still existent in this man... He would never hurt another living thing." "Yes, counselor... I will choose to believe that theory myself." They walked out of the transporter room together, leaving a very confused transporter chief behind. _________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 15/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 55 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:08:12 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738272 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:04:32 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:04:32 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161168 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:19:46 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 15/33 As she ran her tricorder over Data sitting on the biobed, Beverly Crusher found herself staring again. She just couldn't believe it was Data. Or... maybe she was just confused because it was so easy to believe it was Data. In any case, it wasn't long before Data picked up her gaze, and their eyes met in one of those embarrassing moments. Beverly immediately broke her gaze. "So, I guess this will actually be your first real check-up." "Yeah, I guess so..." he allowed his voice to trail off. "Beverly?" "Yes?" she replied, although she was still busying herself with her tricorder readings, and hadn't looked up. "Beverly?" he repeated. This time she did look up. "You don't usually call me Beverly," she said. He looked at her, a brief flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "Dr. Crusher," he began again. "Can I ask you a question, and expect you to answer it truthfully?" "Of course." "If anyone ever going to be able to accept this?" She looked away again for a moment, then met his gaze. "I'm sorry, Data. It's just... Well, as new as this is for you, it's even newer to us. It's... just going to take some time." He nodded, but didn't say anything. Beverly put a hand briefly on his shoulder in a gesture of support, then returned to her scan. After a while, she crinkled her brow at something on the tricorder. "Data... what happened to your feet?" He immediately tensed. "Uh... does it really matter?" Beverly looked up from her readings. "I think it does." Data shook his head. "Forget it. It's nothing." "It is not nothing," she insisted. "I have readings here that show significant scar tissue on the soles of your feet. Almost like they were burned off, or something..." she trailed off as she saw the way he was looking at her. "Oh God..." "Forget it," he said quickly, raising a hand to stop her. "It was my fault. Listen, is this going to take that much longer? I really want to go speak with the captain." "Well, I've repaired your black eye, and done some preliminary scans, but I will need to do a more thorough examination..." "Great," he interrupted, while hoping off the biobed. "So we'll finish that later, okay?" Before she had a chance to stop him he was already out the door. Beverly watched him go. She felt... guilty... about the way she'd acted around him. Data was her friend, and as such he deserved more than her suspicion. At least, Data had been her friend. Was he still the same person she'd known so many years? She supposed that was what had caused her suspicion--she was scared his resemblance to their android friend was only skin deep. Heaving a deep sigh, she returned to analyzing her tricorder readings. ___________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!in.100proofnews.com!in.100proofnews.com!border2.nntp.dca.giganews.com!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!newsfeed.cwix.com!news-in.mts.net!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 16/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 71 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:09:09 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738330 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:05:30 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:05:30 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161160 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:12:18 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 16/33 Data felt rather uncomfortable as he walked down the hall towards the turbolift. Everyone he met on the way there gave him a kind of sideways look. He couldn't exactly blame them, but it still made him angry. He was himself, couldn't everyone else see that? But they couldn't. To them, he wasn't the same person he was, and that made it hard for them to trust him. Even Beverly--no, he corrected himself, Dr. Crusher--didn't trust him. Hell, she could barely even stop staring at him. He arrived at the turbolift, and the doors hissed open. He was glad no one else was in the lift; he was sick of people asking him how he was, and telling him how sorry they were. "Bridge," he instructed. The lift hummed to life, and Data forced himself to be calm. Maybe he wasn't the same person he used to be. It was possible, wasn't it? For a fleeting moment, he wished he still had his long hair and beard so no one would recognize him. The turbolift doors slid open, and for a few moments, no one noticed. For his part, Data was frozen in his tracks. It was like having an intense sense of deja vu. A million memories came at him at once, and he was having trouble sorting through them all. He looked down at the ops console, and saw a young woman with long brown hair sitting there. The fact that she was so young made Data feel a bit slighted, since it had taken him a good thirty years to earn the post. Finally coming to his senses and realizing that he was still standing in the turbolift, Data exited the car, stepping out onto a carpet that seemed to even have a familiar feel to it. He made his way down the ramp, trying not to look directly at anyone on the bridge; he desperately wanted not to be recognized. He almost made it, too. But just as he was about to come close enough to sound the chimes for the captain's ready room, he heard a very familiar voice. "Hey! Bridge access is restricted to..." Data had no choice but to turn around, bringing him face to face with Commander Riker. Riker stopped dead in his tracks. The first officer looked down at his feet; for the first time since Data had known him, he actually looked unsure of himself. "I'm sorry, I..." Data held up a hand to stop him. "Don't be. I'm just here to see the captain." Riker looked up and smiled one of those patented Will Riker smiles. It was almost surreal to Data how he looked exactly the same as he remembered him. Another person came up to him from behind Riker. It was Counselor Troi. "How are you..." she trailed off, and then smiled. "I guess you probably don't want to hear that one, either." He tried his best to smile back. "Thank you for not finishing that sentence, because to tell you the truth, I don't really want to answer it. Is the captain in there?" he asked, giving a slight nod in the direction on the ready room. "Far as I know," Riker answered. Data nodded, and rang the chimes for the door. He heard the captain's acknowledgement a second later. Just before he entered, he shot a glance up towards the tactical console. Worf met his gaze. The Klingon's expression was harsh, as always, but there was something else in his eyes that did more to make Data feel welcome than anything else had all day. He was also aware of the curios gaze of the young science officer as he stepped through the sliding door, and into the ready room. Captain Picard looked up from the screen he was examining as Data entered. "Commander," he said. "Please, have a seat." For the first time in all the time he'd been under Captain Picard's command, Data experienced some of the nervousness that he'd seen other officers display from time to time. It was ridiculous, of course. After all, he'd just come from being tortured by Cardassians; a simple meeting with his commanding officer was nothing compared to that. In spite of that fact, though, Data felt nervous. "With all do respect, sir, I'd rather stand." Picard shrugged slightly. "As you wish." he wasn't going to make it easy for Data. He was going to make him state why he'd come. NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 17/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 99 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:11:19 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738460 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:07:40 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:07:40 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161169 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:22:59 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 17/33 Data was determined to be equally unforgiving. "He's dead, if that's what you're wondering. I know you've been wanting to ask." Picard regarded him for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Sal told me about the shuttle accident. You're lucky you survived." "It didn't happen in the shuttle accident," Data told him. "He was killed trying to help the group of Bajorans I became affiliated with escape the prison." This information clearly surprised Picard. "What was he doing in the prison?" "I don't know," Data confessed. "But I do know that he spent at least 3 years there." "3 years..." Picard echoed, his voice trailing off in his shock. "How could our intelligence not have gotten wind of this..." Data didn't interrupt Picard as his eyes grew distant, momentarily lost in thought. "Luckas Poral was a good man, and a fine officer. He will be sorely missed." Data nodded. "From what I've heard, I'm inclined to agree." He paused, as though offering a moment of silence out of respect for the man he knew Mika had loved. "There's something else I came here to ask you about. It's about the Bajoran I asked Geordi to check on. Talara Mikal. Any word yet on her status?" Data wasn't sure, but he almost thought he saw the captain tense a bit; maybe it was all the years he'd spent analyzing human nature, or maybe it was just his imagination, but he was almost positive he'd seen it. "Nothing yet," he answered. "And if she was dead, would you tell me?" Picard sighed. "Please sit down." This time, Data complied with the request, taking a seat at the desk opposite the captain. Taking his time, Picard picked up a cup of tea he must have been drinking earlier, and took a sip. "I can't pretend to know what you're going through," he said at last. "But I know it must be difficult. I just don't want you to rush things." "Rush things?" Data echoed. "I've just spent the last month in a Cardassian prison, where the daily routine consists of torture, rationing, and, if you're lucky, the occasional bathroom break. Trust me, I could use a change of pace." The captain of the Enterprise stared at him for a long, trying moment. Data's first reaction was to shrink under his piercing, grey eyes, but he ultimately held his ground. Out of all the conflicting emotions he was experiencing, there was one thing he knew for certain: he didn't want to appear weak in front of a man who he knew had once admired him. "Why did you come up here, Data?" he asked after a very long moment. "Couldn't stay away from the bridge?" "I came up here to talk to you, sir," Data replied. "About what you plan to do for the rest of the prisoners in the compound." "Ah," Picard's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Geordi discussed with me your desire to violate the Prime Directive." For some reason, Data felt as though he had been unknowingly thrust into an intellectual battle. "And what was your response?" The smile vanished from Picard's face. "I couldn't believe a former officer of mine would have such a blatant disregard for the very principles upon which the Federation was built." Data looked on a moment longer, before finally breaking his gaze. "Sometimes, sir... It is necessary to modify the rules, in favour of the greater good." "Yes, I know, Data," Picard hissed. "Don't think that I don't consider these things. As a Starfleet captain, I'm forced to make life or death decisions every day. And I have to make those decisions, not knowing what the outcome will be. Occasionally, it turns out to be the wrong choice. When that happens, I try not to second guess myself, because I know that I did everything in my power to uphold the ideals of the Federation. But I know, it's sometimes hard not to look out across the universe and want to violate those laws. But that's what faith is all about. It's about believing so firmly in a set of values that you're able to stay hopeful in the face of tragedy, because you know that it will all be for the best in the end. I feel the deepest sympathy for the Bajorans, and what they had to endure during the occupation. But I know we did the right thing by not interfering." "If you're as righteous as you claim to be," Data said evenly. "You would have done something about it a long time ago, instead of sitting at the helm of your mighty starship, convincing yourself that you're in the right, just because you feel badly for the tortured, and the dying. That's not virtuous. That's cowardly." The way Picard looked at him then, immediately made him regret the harshness of his words. He knew Picard too well to actually believe anything of what he'd said. They were words powered by anger, and he was simply using them as a way to vent his frustrations. But he knew he couldn't take them back. Not after the way he'd said them. "I spoke to counselor Troi earlier," Picard said. "About whether or not she thought you'd changed much. It was her opinion that you'd carried over most of your android personality traits. It was an opinion I was inclined to share. I see now how wrong I was." It felt as though his eyes were tearing into Data. The way he was able to do that, to just look right down into him, and make him feel so guilty... It was almost worse than anything he'd had to undergo at the prison. The apology almost reached his lips, but in the end, he was far too proud, or perhaps still too angry, to voice it. Instead, he said nothing, just meeting the captain's grey eyes with as much strength as he had left inside of him. He couldn't give up now. No matter how much he loved this ship, and these people... His other friends needed his attention more. "Dismissed." NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 18/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 87 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:12:11 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738512 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:08:32 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:08:32 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161170 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:23:48 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 18/33 Data stood up, not allowing his eyes to leave Picard until he had fully turned around. Then he walked through the door, and out onto the bridge. Riker smiled up at him from his place in the command chair upon seeing him. "How'd it go?" "Fine." Data didn't bother trying to smile back, as he walked up the ramp towards the turbolift. He made a conscious effort to make himself walk at a normal rate, despite his impulse to run from the place. "You want to join us for a drink later, in Ten Forward?" Riker called up after him. Data glanced back at him, before entering the lift. "Maybe later." The turbolift doors then closed, sealing off his view of the bridge. With great restraint, Data held off a relieved sigh, as he ordered the lift to take him to cargo bay 7, where he knew the refugees were being housed. After a moment, the lift came to a halt, and Data stepped out the door. There were two security officers standing on either side of the door to the cargo bay. For a moment, Data hesitated. Perhaps Picard had given them orders not to let him in. Then again, there was a chance the guards wouldn't recognize him... As he got closer, he realized that he knew one of the guards. Lieutenant Kepler. He remembered he'd once consoled her in Ten Forward after Worf had been unusually hard on her. Still, he kept on walking. The door slid open to let him in, and he was sure he'd made it. It was then that he felt a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. He surrendered to the grip, taking a step away from the door, which consequently slid shut again. "Commander Data?" asked Kepler. Exhibiting all his self control, Data forced himself to smile. "Lieutenant Kepler. How are you?" "I was about to ask you the same thing, sir," she replied. "I'm..." again, Data swallowed his true feelings. "Fine." Kepler nodded. "I'm glad, sir." She then released his arm. Data didn't hesitate another moment before entering the cargo bay. Again, he resisted the impulse to sigh. It seemed like everything he'd done that day was one little trial after another. He looked around the cargo bay, at the many bruised and battered faces that swarmed about. There were at least 30 people in the bay; Data supposed the rest were in one of the other holds. There were temporary cots set up all over, and there were many people who were lying on them, either sleeping or receiving medical aid from one of the nurses. Data felt for them, as he knew how lost they must feel. They were scared about what was to be done with them, and they probably had a right to be. Federation law was shaky when it came to granting asylum, and it was probably still undecided whether or not these people would be granted it. If the Bajoran Prophets had any say in the matter, Data hoped that they would help send these people home. Data walked through the hold, looking for the one person he knew had survived the attack. Finally, he saw her, bending down over the form of a Bajoran woman, assisting her in holding up her arm so that a nurse could repair a nasty gash that lay across it. Data stopped behind her, but waited until the nurse had completed her task before he spoke. "Sal." Sal, who had just set down the woman's arm, whirled to face him. "Data!" In a completely uncharacteristic reaction for the level-headed Romulan, Sal jumped to her feet, and flung her arms around Data. She held onto him with all her strength which, Data noticed, was formidable. "I am so happy to see you," she said, finally stepping out of his arms. "I've been so worried." "Are you the only one?" he asked. Sal looked around her. Although the cargo bay was filled with people, she knew just who he meant. "Bink... is dead. So are all the other people who were on the bridge at the time. Tarn is here, though. He tried to haggle his way towards getting his own quarters, but he's stuck in cargo bay 6 with the rest of the refugees." Data nodded. He looked at her a moment longer, and then smiled. "It's good to see you," he said truthfully. Sal smiled back at him. "It must be weird for you... coming back here, seeing all your old friends..." Data shrugged, trying to look indifferent. Sal smiled sadly. "You're not a very good liar, Data." "So I've been told." "So, besides the stress of coming back to the ship... how are you?" "I don't know..." Data sighed. "Right now, I feel like everything's happened all at once. I can't seem to get my bearings, my head is spinning so much." "I know," Sal lamented. They had begun to walk together around the vast cargo bay. "Just three days ago, I was stranded in space aboard a dead Cardassian transport... and now I'm sleeping in the cargo bay of the Federation's flagship. The tides of fate turn quickly." "I suppose so," Data agreed. "So what happened to you? During the break, I mean." NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 19/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 106 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:13:37 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738598 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:09:58 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:09:58 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161171 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:25:10 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 19/33 "Well," began Sal, preparing to rehash a very painful moment in the easiest way possible. "As soon as the shields went down, we started beaming people up, just as we'd planned. I guess we took some hits, a few without our shields, before we decided to bolt. I was down in engineering, and all I remember is that I couldn't see anything. The smoke was everywhere, consoles were exploding.... Anyway, I couldn't contact anyone on the bridge, so once we jumped into warp--it's a miracle Tarn could get it going--I got into the turbolift, and went up to the bridge. Bink was lying on the floor by the command chair, with a metal plate wedged into his skull. The other Bajoran officer was down with fatal burns from an explosion. Then I received a message from Tarn, saying we were being pursued. A second later, he told me that they'd been given a computer virus..." she nudged Data's arm. "And we got rid of them. We stayed at warp for as long as possible, before the engines eventually burned out. We drifted around the Onias sector for almost a month before we were picked up by the Enterprise." Sal paused a moment. "Do you... know what happened to anyone else?" Data sighed heavily, closing his eyes briefly. "I don't know. Pak... is dead. I saw some of the other people who worked with us, but I don't know..." he trailed off, and Sal didn't push him, letting him sort out his words on his own time. "Captain Picard... won't tell me if Mika's dead. I think he thinks it would damage me psychologically, or something. If I get even a second alone in engineering, I can check myself... But I just walk anywhere on this ship, and I feel everyone watching me. There's no way they'll just let me stroll into engineering and break into encrypted files." "What's been harder? Getting sent to the prison... or leaving it?" Data laughed humorlessly, recognizing her need to psychoanalyze everything. "I'm glad you're here," he told her. "I don't think I could get through this without you." "You miss her, don't you?" "More than anything." The continued walking, past the many Bajoran faces around them. Some of them nodded hellos to Sal as they passed. "You know," Data said at length. "As many people as were saved here... it's just not enough, is it?" Sal shot him a sideways glance, suspecting what he was hinting at. "Is that what you think?" "I've already completely lost the respect of two of my closest friends over the issue," he replied. "What's a few more?" "Data..." Sal stopped walking, so that she could look directly at him. "I want to see those people free as much as you do, maybe more. But if you're thinking about doing what I think you are... I can't have you do that to yourself. I won't let you do it to yourself." "So you're saying that you won't help me," he observed. "What I'm saying," she said firmly. "Is that I know I haven't known you very long, but I do know that you're a good person--a good enough person to blame yourself for whatever went wrong down there during the escape. And I'm asking you not to ruin the rest of your life on a pride issue." "It's not pride," he objected. "I need to do this... For Mika. She deserves better than to die on the floor of that sewer after everything she's been through. Everyone in that prison deserves better, and I can't just stand back and let them suffer... not when there might be a way I can help them." "So what do you want to do, Data?" her voice lowered to whisper. "Just take over the ship single-handedly and use the phasers to blast your way into the prison?" Data shook his head, his frustration evident. "I don't know... If I could steal a shuttle, maybe I'd have a chance at getting in there, crashing their computers... escaping in some Cardassian ships..." "That's sounds a lot like a stupider version of out original plan, to me," she interrupted. "Then we have to go back to Bajor. Maybe we can get some more followers, Tarn can use his contacts to land us some ships..." "Data." Data considered proposing another idea, but he was really fresh out. "I can't do nothing." "And what if you do break in there, risking the lives of countless innocents... and you find out she's dead. What happens then?" He looked away from her, as of yet unable to accept the possibility. "The whole time I was in the prison... through the torture, and the pain, and the hunger... the only thing that got me through it, was the absolute belief that I would see Mika again. As long as I knew I had that to look forward to... I knew I could get through it. But if she's dead... if she really is dead..." he looked right at her, the pain of his dilemma evident in his eyes. "What am I going to do?" "You'll move on," Sal said softly. "Really..." he said. "Have you?" Sal stiffened. "I will. In time." "Really," he said again. "And when you wake up in the middle of the night to that pain, what do you do? Do you think about it rationally? Do you close your eyes and fall right back to sleep, knowing absolutely for sure that you did everything in your power to save him? Or do you start replaying what happened in your mind, remembering every error you made right up to the end, thinking that if you could just fix that one thing... he might be there in that bed beside you. How do you deal with it, Sal?" Data could see the lump in Sal's throat as she swallowed--hard. "I miss Bink," she said after a moment. "In a way, I always will. But the world doesn't stop turning with the death of one person, Data. Perhaps that's something you've yet to learn." "Perhaps." Sal broke the suddenly confrontational atmosphere by lowering her eyes. "Listen... it's been a long day. Maybe we should both just get some rest." Data, too, lowered his eyes. "Yeah," he sighed. "It has been a long day." "Well..." she reached up a hand, and squeezed his shoulder gently. "I'll see you later, Data." He smiled slightly, and she returned the gesture, before turning away and heading towards the designated sleeping area. Data watched her go, walking with her customarily silky stride. He knew that he'd just hurt the third of his friends in as many days. ___________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 20/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 102 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:14:27 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738648 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:10:48 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:10:48 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161172 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:26:05 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 20/33 The lighting panels swept over his figure in a steady rhythm as he walked down the corridor. The identical wall segments seemed to stretch on forever, but Data knew his way around. In fact, it wouldn't be unfair to say that Data knew that ship better than he knew anything, or anyone, in the universe. He came to an intersection, where he paused only a moment before turning left. The door slid obediently, and silently open, allowing him to enter the deserted area that was Ten Forward. The main lights were off, and only the dim, emergency lighting remained operative. But it didn't matter. He would know her anywhere. Mika turned to face him, her ruby red lips curving into a feral smile as she did so. "My dear Data..." she practically hissed. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Data looked around him, and then back at Mika. "You're dead," he told her. "I am sleeping. This is a dream." The smile fell from her face as though it had been wiped away. She ripped her eyes away from him, and poured a golden liquid into a glass on the table from an intricately carved bottle. More than anything else in the room, the golden liquid seemed to pick up the light. It splashed that light across Mika's face as she brought the glass up towards her, and took a long, deep drink. Once she had finished the glass, she set it back down on the table. She then stared at Data for an almost infinite time before she suddenly laughed. It was a deep, throaty sound, as though powered by true amusement. "Is that what you think this is?" she asked him. "A dream?" Data approached her, but still remained slightly distanced from her. "What are you drinking?" he asked. "Your future," she said happily. She picked up the intricate bottle, and re-filled her glass with the golden drink. She brought it up to her mouth, but as she did so, she appeared to falter. The glass tumbled from her hand, the golden liquid spilling across the front of her red dress. "Whoops!" Mika exclaimed, with a slight giggle. "I've spilled it." Data looked down at the glass as it lay motionless on the floor, feeling suddenly captivated by the sight. "Data." The sound of Mika's voice immediately snapped him out of his trance. He turned to face her, and found that she was now lying across the bar counter. "If I'm dead," she began, running the fingers of one hand gently back and forth across the edge of the counter. "Why am I still here?" "I'm dreaming," he told her. "Just like every other time. You're dead." She seemed to consider his response for a moment. "Are you afraid of dying, Data?" "Yes," he said. "Why?" "Because..." "I'm dead," she continued, before he could answer. "So if you died, we could spend all our days together. Think of it, Data. We could be together every moment, of every day... for all eternity." "I..." Data faltered. "Data?" she prompted. "Data?" "I..." still, he felt himself tongue tied. "DATA!" The world seemed to spin around him. The dim emergency lights turned into blots of colour against a murky landscape. He felt his balance failing him, and he reached out for something... anything... to hold on to. His fingers somehow managed to grab onto the edge of the cliff, but he was too disoriented to be able to hold on for long. The sharp stones littering the ledge cut into his fingers as his hands dragged across them... falling down into the bottomless chasm... The jarring impact of Data's fall off the couch caused him to spring to alertness. It was only then that he finally noticed the sound of his ringing door chime, and the voice on the other side. "Data? Data, are you there?" Data ran his unsteady hands over his face and his T-shirt clad chest. As he did so, he felt his heart beating more rapidly than it had any right to. "Uh... yeah, sure..." he pulled himself to his feet, and took a deep, steadying breath. "Come in." The door slid open, and Sal stepped hesitantly inside. The door hissed shut behind her. "Are you alright?" Data tried to make his expression as vacant as possible. "Of course. Why?" Sal tilted her chin slightly upwards. It was clear she didn't believe him, but she had no intention of stating the fact outright. "So," said Data after a moment. "What brings you here this morning?" he suddenly frowned, remembering the fact that he rarely slept more than a few hours at a time. "It is morning, isn't it?" "It's 0300 hours," Sal replied. "So yes, it is technically morning." Data nodded. "So why are you here?" Surprisingly, Sal gave a small laugh. "We're so far estranged now that I have to have a specific reason for visiting?" "Ah..." Data nodded, finally understanding. "So this is about what happened yesterday." "Yes," Sal confirmed. "I got the feeling we were both getting a little carried away. The bottom line is we both lost something recently... or, I should say, someone..." "Sal..." "No," she interrupted. "I have to say this." She paused to re-gather her thoughts. "What I said yesterday... about getting on with your life... I shouldn't have made it sound so cut and dry. It isn't. I will go on, but it isn't as easy for me as I made it out to be. I know this might sound... awkward... but you have to understand... this is difficult for me to admit." "I understand," Data told her. "You don't usually talk about your feelings." "No," she admitted. "I don't. But as Mika certainly thought... you seem to be someone people can trust. And that's why you can't do what you proposed in the cargo bay yesterday. You can't betray the crew of the Enterprise. NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 21/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 108 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:15:13 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738694 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:11:34 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:11:34 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161173 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:26:52 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 21/33 Data sighed. "Maybe we should have sat down..." "You can't do it," Sal continued. "Because it would be betraying your principles. You're too good a person to do that, and I can't stand by and watch it happen." "Principles?" he echoed, incredulous. "Since when did principle become the detracting point of this argument? What I want to do I'm doing because it's the right thing. That's the bottom line. I'm not even doing this for Mika. Friendship... even love... isn't important where this issue is concerned. I'm doing this for all the people I never even met, who are suffering in that prison for supposed crimes they didn't even commit." "Is that really what you think?" she asked him. "That the Cardassians were really so evil that they just locked up every person who annoyed them, regardless of race, or incident? Really think. Does it make sense that they would have had enough jurisdiction to arrest Romulans just because they were racist?" Data stared at her, suddenly feeling a slight unease creeping up his spine. "Why were you sent there, Sal?" She started walking slowly towards him, her feet gliding noiselessly across the carpet. "Did Pak ever explain to you why he was there? Or why he couldn't go home to Cardassia?" she stopped about a foot in front of him. "He was a soldier, Data, a field surgeon. He served on Bajor for five years, never once trying to help any injured Bajorans. Although... I'm sure to him, it all seemed justified at the time." "So why did he end up in prison?" Data tried his best to keep his voice impassive. "I suppose there comes a point where someone just doesn't have the imagination to justify anymore. There was a riot of free Bajorans outside the Cardassian military headquarters on Bajor. Pak was ordered by his superiors to fire into the crowd, along with the other soldiers. Pak turned... and fired at the Cardassian officers. He didn't get maybe 3... or 4 shots off before he was taken out, and exiled from Cardassia. The Cardassian occupied Velerous moon was as close as he was ever to get to his own kind ever again. So there he was, in a Cardassian prison; despised by the Bajorans, and exiled by the Cardassians. But through determination... or perhaps cowardice... he kept going." "He might have allowed people to die," acknowledged Data. "But he did the right thing in the end. He repented." "We're friends, Data. Isn't that right?" Data nodded once. "I'd like to think so." "We're friends," she said again. "And yet you have no idea. You take the events around you, and paint the most beautiful painting, using only black and white..." Sal trailed off, and again laughed. It wasn't a particularly happy sound. "Why were you sent there, Sal?" Data asked softly, no longer sure if he wanted to hear the answer. Having sobered herself, Sal looked him in the eye. It was only by looking into her face, with its dark circles and heavy frown, that he noticed how tired she was. "Do you know how I knew those things about Pak?" she took a step forward, so that her face was only inches from Data's. She stuck a finger into her chest. "Because I was there. I was posing as a Romulan delegate, sent on a mission to work with the leaders of the Cardassian military. But I wasn't really a delegate. I was sent there as a spy... a spy of the Tal Shiar." After a very long, very quiet moment, she finally pulled her face away from Data's. She then stepped away from him, and walked over to a table with a sculpture on it, examining it idly. "I'm not sure about many of the details of my past," she began, speaking with her back to him. "And if it hadn't been for Pak recognizing me from the protest... I might not have remembered anything at all. But since then, I have remembered certain details... details about people I once knew, places I once was... probably the result of a memory drug I was ordered to take by the Tal Shiar. What I do remember comes to me in my dreams, and it usually takes me several days to make any sort of sense of what I've seen." "So... you don't remember why you were sent there," Data surmised. Smoothly, she turned to face him. "No," she confirmed. "But I do know that I did some very bad things, and that I was not a very nice person. Given those two facts, perhaps I simply don't want to remember. I was a different person then. But now... I have nothing left to hide." Data was silent. He was genuinely shocked by her revelation. He wasn't angry at himself for not seeing it sooner, as, indeed, he'd had no reason to. He felt more betrayed, saddened by the fact that someone who he'd considered to be his friend was really a totally different person than he'd thought they were a few minutes before. "I am sorry, Data," she continued after a moment. "I just thought you had a right to know. Just as I thought you had the right to know that not everyone in that prison is a martyr, before you blast your way in there in a hopeless cause. I also wanted you to know that I know what you must have been going through when you'd lost your past. I know all about the endless searching... the sleepless nights spent staring up at the ceiling and wondering who you are... where you're from... and what you might have done to deserve no answers to those questions. The only difference between me and you is that I'd lived my whole life with emotions, and learned something about how to handle them. You, on the other hand, didn't have that luxury. You were thrust right into a situation where you were completely out of control, while simultaneously gaining a whole range of emotions you didn't have before. I wanted to tell you that I think that was brave of you. And I respect you for it." Data listened to her words, to her praise, and couldn't help but wonder if she was really so different from the person he'd know from 10 minutes earlier. He also couldn't help but be struck by how similar his current situation was to how his former Enterprise shipmates had treated him since he'd arrived back. "When you dream..." he said after an almost endless moment. "What do you see?" "Places," she replied. "People I don't recognize... some of them seem familiar, some of them don't. Some of them I recognize from previous dreams. Whenever I get a particularly strong image of someone in my mind, I wake up and try to draw that person. Sometimes I even close my eyes, and draw purely from memory. So far my results have been... less than promising." NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!63.223.20.72!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 22/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 71 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:16:41 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738784 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:13:04 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:13:04 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161175 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:28:15 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 22/33 Her eyes had been distant, and unfocused, reliving her memories of past events. But now her eyes came back into focus, and they focused squarely on Data. "Have you had trouble sleeping, Data?" "I have a recurring dream," he told her. "Mika's in it. She's wearing a white dress, and there's always a cliff. I'm not sure what the cliff represents, exactly. But I know its something big... something bigger than I can truly understand, or even imagine. Almost like it's... the gate to where all knowledge is kept. And to fall down into it, means to surrender yourself to that pure and undisguised truth... and experience an existence that none of us can grasp as we exist now." "An eternal resting spot, perhaps," Sal offered. "Maybe," Data agreed. "But in all my dreams, I'm terrified of the cliff. At first, it would be Mika who would fall over the edge. I would always try to save her, but I never could. Recently, though, it's been me. I fall down into the bottomless pit... and then I wake up. I wake up terrified, disoriented... and not entirely sure why." He paused, for a moment, allowing himself to relive the vivid emotions evoked by his dreams. He then shook his head. "Does this... make any sense at all?" "It makes sense to you," she replied. "With dreams, isn't that all that matters?" Again, Data shook his head. "I don't know. I just know that I hate not being able to sleep through at least one night without waking up with my heart jumping out of my chest." Sal offered a small, sad, and probably understanding smile. "It's hard. But then... if it wasn't, what would be the point?" she glided towards him again, close enough that she was able to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. "This universe is filled with pain. Anyone who doesn't see that is only deluding themselves. But we can recognize that pain, without surrendering to it completely. Friends help us do that. The people we love help us to remember that despite all the bad things around us, there are still good things to be said. And, at least for me, that's enough that I'm able to foster some hope for the future." They stood there for a moment, before Sal pulled Data towards her, and hugged him. Data half expected her to cry, before remembering who it was he was dealing with. "You're a lot like Bink in a lot of ways, you know," she spoke against his shoulder. "You both have a profound sense of loyalty. I think I admire that because once I was interned at the prison, I gave up all of mine." They parted, and stood looking at each other. Data saw her open expression as he considered her past, and the possibility of what she might have done during that time. He had to admit that he found some difficulty connecting the two in his mind. It was then that he knew, that despite any lies she might have told him in the past, he trusted her. "When you first came in here, and you told be about your past," he said. "I felt betrayed. I thought that it somehow made you a different person than I'd thought you were. When I continued talking with you, though, I realized you weren't different; you were still the same person I remembered. But as we continued talking, I realized something else." She regarded him. "What?" "I think you're a better person than I remember." Their lips met, and the kiss was filled with passion. Sal even wrapped her arms around Data's neck, her slender fingers feeling the contours of his back bones. Data savored her touch, and the feel of her body pressed against his. He savored it until they eventually parted, and their hands left each other's forms. "Who were you thinking of?" she asked him softly. Data smiled sadly. "For a moment though... it was nice to imagine... wasn't it?" Sal smiled weakly back. "Do you want to come and get some early..." she checked her wrist chromometer. "No, make that very early breakfast?" Data nodded. "I think I'd like that." They left the room walking side by side, headed for Ten Forward. ______________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 23/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 94 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:17:30 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738833 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:13:53 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:13:53 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161176 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:29:05 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 23/33 "It was incredible. Three ships, up against the entire prison facility." Tarn positioned three empty glasses on the table in formation, and moved them across the table's surface towards a cleaned off glass plate on the other side. Three young human ensigns, two males and one female, were gathered around the table, listening intently to the developing narrative. "What did you do?" prompted one particularly bug-eyed ensign. "Well... being the experienced engineer that I am," Tarn continued. "I wasn't about to panic. I knew that with the new shield adjustments I'd made, we could hold our own in a fight against the Cardassians." "How did you boost the shields, sir?" asked the lone female. "Did you substitute the regular dilithium reactions in the core with trilithium reactions? I know it's all still in the preliminary stages, but I did a paper on it at the academy..." "How we boosted the shields isn't important," Tarn waved her off, annoyed at the intrusion. "The important thing is, there I was in engineering, preparing to face my destiny head-on.... We went ahead with the first stage of the plan, but before we knew it, we were surrounded on all sides by Cardassian warships..." "Galor class warships, sir?" "Of course," Tarn confirmed. "They needed their best to take care of us. The only thing they didn't count on was one clever Ferengi to take care of them first. There were explosions all around us. All of engineering had gone up in smoke. I heard screaming... voices through the smoke... but I was the one to take control. I ordered Sal--she was our captain--to go up to the bridge and figure out what was going on..." The bug-eyed ensign's jaw dropped. "You ordered the captain around?" "It was a crisis situation. They knew enough to follow the instructions of someone who could take the pressure. Not that Captain Sal isn't a great person. It's just that in a crisis situation, when I have only my cunning and my lobes to protect me..." "Someone say my name?" Tarn immediately ceased his reenactment, and craned his neck to look up at Sal. The Romulan looked back down at him, a satisfied smile playing across her features. "Captain Sal!" he greeted warmly. "Yes, of course. I was just offering praise for your leadership under crisis situations, as my friends here will attest..." he gestured to the Starfleet ensigns, who, at seeing him look to them for help, rapidly gathered themselves and scurried away from the table. "Wait!" he called out after them. "You'll miss the best part!" "It's no use, Tarn," said Sal, plopping herself into a vacated seat across from Tarn. Guy--no, Tarn reminded himself, Data--sat down beside her. "They're gone." Tarn looked from the Romulan to the human. "Boy, you two sure are a couple of walking corpses, aren't you?" Sal arched an eyebrow at the Ferengi. "Excuse me?" "In business, you learn to be a good judge of character," Tarn explained. "And in the case of you two, I'd say it's sleep depravation that brings you into the bar at 0400 hours, rather than a sudden craving for a midmorning snack." Sal and Data exchanged a glance, but Tarn spoke before either of them could respond. "What you need," he said lightly. "Is a drink. I know just the thing." He reached out and grabbed the arm of a passing waiter in what--at least to Data's memory--seemed to be his signature move. "Bring us three drinks," he instructed. "The usual." The waiter nodded, and continued on his way. "The usual?" Data echoed. "You've been here two days and you already have a usual?" "Oh, it's the perfect thing for the sleep deprived," Tarn assured them. "Sweet, loaded with both alcohol and cafine..." "Tarn..." Sal didn't get to finish the sentence, as the waiter picked that moment to arrive with 3 glasses of a very orange liquid, one which Data recognized. "Ahh..." Tarn cradled his tall glass in his small hands. "Of course, your precious Starfleet wouldn't have made them with real alcohol... but I do admit, it's still a powerful drink." "Tarn..." Sal began again. Tarn ignored her, instead raising his glass. "To our freedom from the fearsome oppressors of Cardassia." Both Sal and Data hesitated, but eventually followed suit, raising their glasses and bringing them together in a half-hearted toast with Tarn. Tarn put his glass at his mouth almost at once, slurping down half of the orange liquid. Sal was the next to put her drink to her mouth. Data closed his eyes as he, too, took a sip of his drink. As soon as the drink touched Data's tongue, he gagged, and spit the drink back into the glass. "What..." he ran the back of his hand across his mouth, as though trying to wipe away the taste. "What the hell is it?" "Juice of tube grub," Tarn replied. "You don't like it?" Data looked over at Sal to see how she was handling the beverage. "It's not that bad," she admitted, picking up the glass and taking her second sip. Data couldn't help but cringe as he watched her. "How can you say that? I..." he spotted the waiter passing by, and stopped him. "Could you just get me a glass of water." NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 24/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 117 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: <_1efd.5361$rs5.341574@news20.bellglobal.com> Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:19:15 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098738938 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:15:38 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:15:38 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161177 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:30:46 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 24/33 As soon as Data's water was set in front of him, he picked it up, and downed almost the whole thing in one gulp. "That's better," he sighed. "I don't care about what happened in that prison. That was the closest to death I've ever been." He saw Sal glance at him, a slight smile pulling at the edges of her mouth, acknowledging his being lighthearted about the subject. "So," said Tarn after a moment. "Why aren't you two sleeping?" Sal shrugged. "I had a nap earlier." "Uh... Sal woke me up. Said she wanted some company," Data shrugged. "I couldn't turn down a friend." Tarn nodded. "I see." "So..." Sal tilted her chin in Tarn's direction. "why are you here?" Tarn grinned devilishly, exposing his sharp, pointed teeth, as his eyes darted back and forth across the room. "This is when the ensigns get off duty. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to show off my charms." "You know," Sal began, regarding Tarn thoughtfully. "When we first met, I didn't like you much." "Really," Tarn smiled, as he took another sip of his drink. "But since we've spent more time together," she continued. "I've realized something." "And that is?" prompted Tarn, still grinning. "I still don't like you." The smile fell from Tarn's face. Data did his best to hold back a laugh at seeing the Ferengi's almost comical reaction. "Well... you're entitled to your opinion," said Tarn stiffly. Sal smiled, and took another sip of her drink. "So, Data," Tarn said, turning his attention to the human. "Have you spoken to Captain Picard? Any idea what he's going to do with us?" "I..." Data swallowed. "I spoke with him. But I think I'll speak to him again today." "But are we going to be extradited?" "I... I don't know," Data said truthfully. "I hope not." Tarn snorted. "Don't we all." "If we do get to go free," Sal began, speaking to Tarn. "Where will you go?" Tarn shrugged. "I have no more family, no more business... I suppose I could go back to Ferenginar. I have a few friends there who might be able to help me get back on my feet." Idly, Sal nodded. "What about you, Data? Do you think you'll stay in Starfleet?" Data hesitated, suddenly feeling very odd about the prospect. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "I haven't really thought about it." "I think you should," she told him. "It seems to fit with you." "I'll say this for you," Tarn offered. "You know your way around computers. If you hadn't gotten that computer virus in there we all would have been..." "I'm sure you would have found another way to handle the situation," Data interrupted. Tarn regarded him strangely for a quick second. "Maybe," he shrugged. "But you still saved all our lives." Data smiled, trying his best to be accommodating. "If you say so." "Really, though," Tarn continued, unabated by Data's reluctance. "When those ships were chasing us, and I was leaning over the controls, not sure what to do, and I figured out that computer virus was there, well..." "Tarn," Sal interrupted tersely. "That's enough." Tarn stopped, and looked at Sal, then at Data, and then back again. "Okay," he said at last. "Can't blame a guy for trying to lighten the mood. Boy, you two look tired." "Actually," said Data, pushing his chair away from the table. "You're probably right. I should probably get some sleep." He then stood up. "See you around." He began to walk away, but Sal, after exchanging a look with a still rather perplexed Tarn, got up and grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Data, wait. You don't have to go." Gently, he lifted her hand off his arm. "I know," he assured her. "I just... need to get some sleep. I'll see you later." Sal allowed her hand to fall from his arm, and then watched as he walked through the sliding door and out of Ten Forward. She kept watching the door even as she sat back down at the table. Although she was only peripherally aware of it, she did notice Tarn watching her in return. She took her eyes off the door and met his gaze. "Yes?" Tarn shrugged, and lowered his head, grinning to himself. "How can you stand him? I admit, he's a brilliant engineer, but... he's a little emotional, wouldn't you say?" Sal shrugged, and took another sip of her tube grub juice. "Maybe he's just less jaded." "You think that's it?" asked Tarn. "You think he just has this wonderful, beautiful vision of the world around him, and that's why he can't accept when things go wrong? Because if that's the case, I get why he and that Mika woman got along so well." "How do you mean?" Sal questioned, genuinely interested. "Well, from what I saw of her, Mika always missed that part of herself. That innocence was something she'd obviously lost of herself, and since Guy... I mean, Data, had that part still intact... he completed her." Sal regarded the Ferengi for a very long moment before responding. "You know, Tarn, over that whole month we had together on the ship, I never knew you as a romantic." "Love makes people do crazy things," Tarn smiled. "It's good for business to know a bit about romance." Sal nodded. "What about you, though? Has there ever been a special someone in your life?" "Why?" Tarn slid his upper body across the table towards her. "Are you offering?" Sal didn't budge from her position, although Tarn's face was only inches from hers. "You know something, Tarn?" "What?" he grinned up at her. "When the ship lost power, and there was no way to repair it, and we knew that it was only a matter of time before we lost life support, I honestly expected us to die." "Really." "Really," she confirmed. "And you know, despite the fact that I considered our impending doom to be fast approaching, I never, not even once, ever considered having sex with you." His ridiculous grin still plastered to his face, Tarn retracted himself back into his normal sitting position. "That's what I love about Romulans," he said. "Always so direct, and to the point." Sal smiled accommodatingly at him from across the table, and downed the last of her drink. ____________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 25/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 128 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: <44efd.5363$rs5.341928@news20.bellglobal.com> Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:21:29 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098739072 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:17:52 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:17:52 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161178 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:33:06 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 25/33 Data felt badly about leaving Sal and Tarn so abruptly, but he knew he'd had no choice. He was still angry about what had happened, and the way he'd handled it. If anyone was going to try and play up what he did to make him sound like a hero, he wouldn't stand for it. That, ultimately, was why he had to leave; he knew if he'd stayed, he would have ended up saying something he would regret, and that was something he just didn't feel like doing at that point. He looked around him, and slowed down, and then stopped, realizing he had no idea where he was going. He could go back to his quarters, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. He couldn't go up to the bridge, he couldn't go back to Ten Forward... A sudden though struck him, and he stepped into the turbolift just ahead of him. "Holodeck Three," he requested. _______________________________________________________________ She was fairly certain that she was cold. Fairly certain, because her entire body felt numb, and lifeless. Her limp form was strung up on the metal wall, heavy metal restraints securing her wrists as her arms were stretched out to either side. Her ankles were similarly secured beneath her. The weight of her whole body pressed against the restraints, their rough, rusted surface re-opening healed sores and irritating her bruises. The ripped and tattered garment that constituted a shirt clung to her body courtesy of the nervous, cold sweat that coated every inch of her skin, pouring its salty substance into every rip of her ragged flesh. The wall at her back was cold against her exposed skin, although it didn't lessen her sweating. It was probably an infection, she knew, although there wasn't a whole lot she could do about it, except keep fighting. That was what her life had become. A series of never-ending uphill battles. And as time went on, she found herself less and less certain about what it was she would win at the end of the war. Through all the pain and discomfort she was experiencing, perhaps the most annoying thing was the tiny bead of sweat that lingered at the end of her nose. It wasn't quite large enough to drop off on its own, and it seemed that she had been waiting for an eternity for it to become so. She was quite certain that she would go insane if she had to deal with it for another minute. Her prayers were answered suddenly, as the door slid open with a labored hiss, and she forgot about the drop of sweat. Her eyes had been closed, half conscious, but she opened them enough to look at her visitors. She saw the unmistakable figure of Gul Ropek in the center, flanked by two of his guards. The gul smiled sickly at her. "Good sleep, my dear Mika?" Mika didn't answer. It angered her that Ropek bothered to ask, but she didn't have the energy to say so. Especially since she knew she would just receive further punishment for her actions. The smile faded from Ropek's face at her lack of response. He stood there looking at her for a very long time, silent and unmoving. Mika lost interest after a while, and closed her eyes. "He's been set free, you know." Mika first instinct was to keep on ignoring him, but she thought better of it. "Who?" she managed to groan, her dry mouth causing her voice to sound raspy and weak, even to her own ears. "Data, of course," the gul replied lightly. "You're beloved Starfleet friend." Mika groaned almost imperceptibly, realizing that Ropek was just playing another one of his games. "Don't you care?" Knowing that he wouldn't quit until she'd answered him, she spoke. "I don't care because I have no idea what you're talking about." "Really." Mika opened her eyes again, to see the Cardassians had not moved from their original positions. "I'm too tired..." she coughed, tasting something less than pleasant in her mouth as she did so. "... to play these games." She saw Gul Ropek nod thoughtfully. "I see. You don't remember the man who brought down our computer systems as part of that brilliant rescue attempt of yours." "I don't..." "Yes, I know," Ropek interrupted her. "You don't understand. Then again..." he paused for an almost endless moment. Mika found her mind starting to wander again, this time to the strands of matted hair that plastered themselves across her forehead under the influence of her sweat. "Yes..." Ropek said finally. "I understand now. You don't know, do you? He fooled even you, his lover, with his deceptions." Mika felt the nauseous swirling of her stomach--a stomach that had grown increasingly smaller over recent weeks--grow stronger. "What are you talking about?" "What did you know him as?" asked the gul. "Guy, perhaps? That was the name he originally gave to us, although after that he learned to be much more forthcoming. You did know he was in Starfleet, didn't you?" At the mercy of his words, Mika could only hang on the wall and listen to what the gul had to say. "He was a Starfleet Lieutenant Commander, it seems, and apparently quite a good one, too. He served on the Federation's flagship. We returned him to his ship once they came to get him." Mika tried to say something, tried to deny his words, but she found her throat had now dried up entirely. "I remember when he left," Ropek continued. "He was so happy to be leaving this place. He couldn't get out of here fast enough." Her eyes only half open, Mika only saw Ropek's black boots moving across the floor as he approached her. In a few more moments, she was also able to feel the foul smell of his warm breath on her face. "He betrayed you," said the Cardassian. "He left you here to rot, while he went off on his ship with his friends. Doubtless, he's curled up in a soft bed right now, one of those handy Federation doctors having healed all his wounds. How nice for him." Mika wanted to deny the gul's words, but in actuality, she found that she believed him. After all, it explained so much about Guy's behavior. His never-ending questions, his knowledge of engineering, that ridiculous memory loss story... Yes, it certainly did make sense. He had been a Federation spy all along. And she had fallen for it. Every bit of it. She'd let down her guard, and allowed him to completely manipulate her. To think she'd trusted him... she'd even thought she loved him. "Well," Gul Ropek finally pulled himself away from her, and even though her eyes were closed, she could hear the gentle rolling of his footsteps as he made his way towards the door. "I suppose I'll leave you to it, then. I'm sure you have a lot to think about." The door opened with the same groan of protest, and the Cardassians left, leaving Mika once again alone in the room. It was a loneliness that she felt more powerfully than she ever had in her entire life, even after the death of her parents. To think that she'd gone and trusted someone again, and they'd let her down... Having finally collected enough moisture, the bead of sweat that had been clinging to her nose dropped off. Mika almost imagined that she could hear the sound of the drop hitting the floor echoing off the walls, so complete was the silence all around her. She couldn't feel her body--all of her extremities having finally surrendered to total numbness. There was no feeling, no sound, and no pain. As the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes turned to hours, Mika began to grow increasingly sure that it was something she was ready to experience for the rest of her existence. ________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 26/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 141 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:23:21 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098739185 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:19:45 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:19:45 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161179 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:35:03 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 26/33 The bridge was silent, apart from some various low-voiced conversations being conducted over the wall consoles. Picard didn't mind the quiet. Sometimes he enjoyed just sitting on the bridge, and watching and listening to the various members of his crew as they went about their tasks. They were a good crew, but then, he had already known that. It was times like this, when there were no crises, no red alert sirens, and no paperwork, that he felt the happiest. Although he couldn't deny the fact that he had relished some of the adventures he and his crew had had over the years, there was also something so charming about just sitting at the helm of a starship, surrounded by the endless starfield, and knowing that whatever else was happening out there, all was well for you, and your friends. He glanced briefly over at Riker, who was sitting next to him, and also uncharacteristically quiet. He could hear the muffled voice of Counselor Troi behind him at the top of the ramp, conversing with one of the Ensigns. Directly above him, he knew Worf would be looming over his console, at rapt attention despite the current routineness around them. Picard smiled quietly to himself, taking pride in the knowledge of his Klingon officer's sense of duty. It was then that Picard looked directly ahead of him, at the science station. He saw the back of Susan Atkin's head, her long, dark hair pulled back quite neatly and professionally. Picard liked her. She was a good officer--bright, energetic, and always extremely professional. He knew he should be glad to have her... but he wasn't. He didn't blame her for what had happened, but seeing her sitting there always served to remind him of times past, and he couldn't help but pin some of his frustrations on her, despite how unfair he knew it was. Picard sighed, although he wasn't even aware he'd made the sound out loud until he saw Commander Riker shoot a glance in his direction. "Something wrong, sir?" Picard looked over at his First Officer, realizing his slip. "Of course not, number one. I was just... relishing the fact that we seem to be crisis free at the moment." Riker grinned, an expression that always seemed to come easily to him. "I know just what you mean. I'm enjoying the break myself. Although... if it was like this all the time, I doubt I would have joined Starfleet." Picard, nodded, himself offering a small smile of concurrence. "Yes, well, I believe I shall take the opportunity to get caught up on some of my archeology. I'll be in the ready room." Riker nodded, as Picard stood. "Of course, sir." Picard crossed the bridge to his ready room. After he'd stepped inside, and the door had slid shut behind him, he stood there for several moments, regarding what was really his first home. He saw the remnants of past adventures decorating the walls, and adorning his shelves, and desks. Although he tried not to think about it most of the time, he tried to imagine all the same souvenirs in some earthbound Admiral's office at Starfleet headquarters in San Francisco. As always, it was an unsettling thought. The whole notion of being earthbound for long periods of time was practically abhorrent to Picard. To not be able to look out his window, and see the stars all around him... Not to feel the gentle, and mostly fanciful, hum of the engines beneath his feet... to stop exploring new worlds, and leave it to someone else, someone younger... It was then that he heard the door chime sound behind him. Realizing that he was still standing just inside the doorway himself, Picard took a couple of steps forward, then turned to face the door. "Come." The door slid open, and Picard found Counselor Troi standing before him, her hands looped behind her back. "Are you busy, sir?" Picard shook his head. "Not at all, counselor. Please, take a seat." Picard crossed the room to his desk, half sitting, half leaning, on the edge, his arms crossed across his chest. Deanna followed him over, taking a seat in the chair across from his desk, a few feet away. She crossed her legs, and rested her hands in her lap, although she didn't say anything. "So..." Picard began after a moment. "What can I do for you today?" "Funny," she said, a small, warm smile playing across her pretty features. "I was just going to ask you the same thing." The captain regarded her for a moment, before shaking his head. "I'm not quite sure what you mean..." "I sensed what you were feeling on the bridge, just now," she told him. "I thought you might want a sympathetic ear." "Thank you," said Picard, not unkindly. "but it was just a bit of melancholy. I assure you, I'm quite over it now." Slowly, she nodded. "I see. Might I ask what you were melancholy about?" Picard pushed himself away from the desk, and walked leisurely over to the replicator. "Tea, Earl Grey," he instructed. "Hot." With an almost musical hum, the machine replicated his beverage of choice. As soon as it had materialized, Picard curled his fingers around the handle of the mug, and carried it back to his desk. This time, he went behind it, and sat down in the chair there. Deanna still waited patiently for his reply as he sipped the hot tea, then set it down on the desk. "I was just thinking," he said at last. "About this ship. This crew. And how, someday, a day that draws nearer all the time, I'll have to leave it all behind. Somehow, I can't imagine myself cooped up in an Admiral's office on earth." "I wouldn't go picking out your office just yet," she cautioned him. "Why's that?" he questioned. "Well... you'll need to get promoted, first." Picard smiled, as he picked up his mug, and took another sip of his tea. "It's funny... I've served on other ships, with other crews, all of them with people who were, and are, very special to me. But somehow... this ship is different. Maybe because it's been my longest captaincy... but I just feel as though there's something special about this crew, these people. It's almost frightening, though, because the more you love something, the harder it inevitably is to let it go. And lately, it seems I've been seriously considering that possibility more and more." "I think we both know there's a reason for that," she said softly. The captain's eyes had been somewhat distant, but he looked at Deanna then. "You mean Data." Deanna nodded. "We all missed him after he disappeared. And now he's back... only not quite in the way any of us imagined." Picard nodded thoughtfully. "I always thought that if Data ever did become human, he'd be the best human of all. Moral, caring, honest... This isn't quite how I pictured he would be," Picard paused. "I remember him sitting there at the science console, and much more confidant just having him there would make me feel. I could depend on him, I could trust him. Every time I had an idea, I could always bounce it off him, see if it made sense. I valued that unique perspective he had... But now..." "Now," Deanna picked up. "You have to accept that he's fallible, and somehow, you feel admitting that would make you weaker." Picard just looked at her for a very long moment, before he finally blinked, and broke the moment. He lowered his eyes to the shiny surface of his mahogany desk, shaking his head. "You know, counselor, sometimes I envy you--you're ability to analyze emotions." "It's not always pleasant." "Neither is being a starship captain," he lamented. "I want you to promise me that you'll think about what I have to say next." Picard looked up at her, giving her his complete attention. "Of course." "I want you to consider why you don't feel as though you can trust Data," she said. "Especially considering that you've only spoken to him once since he's been back. I want you to consider that, just possibly, he's been through an ordeal that would leave even the most level headed person traumatized. I also want you to consider that maybe... just maybe... under all those human imperfections lies the same person we all loved, along with all the noble qualities that person possessed. Just... consider it." After a moment, Picard sighed. "I will," he assured her. "I promise." "That's all I ask," she said, uncrossing her legs and standing up. She hadn't taken three steps towards the door before Picard's voice stopped her. "And counselor?" Deanna turned partly around, so that she was able to look at him. "Thank you," he said genuinely. "Anytime, sir," she smiled, before leaving the ready room. NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!newshub.sdsu.edu!cyclone.bc.net!news-in.mts.net!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 27/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 127 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:24:11 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098739234 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:20:34 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:20:34 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161174 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:27:41 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 27/33 The ready room doors hissed shut behind Deanna, leaving her standing on the bridge. She looked over at the command chair, and locked eyes with Will Riker, who grinned up at her. She would have enjoyed staying there a while to visit with the first officer, but she knew she had somewhere else she had to be. She climbed the ramp, and entered the turbolift. "Computer, where is Lieutenant Commander Data?" "Lieutenant Commander Data is in holodeck three." ______________________________________________________________ The wind swept through the fields, bending the long, coarse grass. Every powerful whistle of the lonely wind was accompanied by the swishing of the grass, as well as the gentle stirring of the tree leaves. The leaves danced with the wind, flipping over and back, the brief flashes of silver their movement caused creating an almost sparkling effect in the dimming twilight. Data was only peripherally aware of it all, as he gazed out over the outspread fields before him. He had his arms crossed across his chest, resisting the impulse to open his arms to the wind, which batted playfully at his clothing and his hair. The stars were not yet visible in the darkening sky, and only two of the moons were visible in the sky. Data took a deep breath of the cool air. It tasted fresh, and pleasant... but it wasn't quite right. The smell was the only thing that was really there to remind Data that he was only standing in a holodeck created version of Bajor. "This is beautiful." Surprised, but not really shaken, Data turned in the direction of the voice, to see counselor Troi standing behind him. He hadn't heard her enter. Had he really been that lost in his thoughts? "I know." "Where is it?" she asked. "Bajor," he told her. Slowly, Deanna nodded, taking another sweeping look around her. "The only time I was there was when we were investigating those terrorists about a year ago, but at that time they were still in disrepair from the occupation. All I saw were shelters and wreckage. I had no idea it was like this." Data returned his gaze to the horizon. "I visited this place the night before we left for the prison," he said. "This was the last place I saw her." There was silence for a moment, before Data turned right around to face the counselor. "Why are you here?" Deanna shrugged, and smiled good-naturedly. "Thought you might want some company... or maybe someone to talk to." "Oh, great," Data groaned. "I suppose I should have expected this." "What?" "This..." he made a vague gesture. "You coming here to create a full psychological work-up on me, tell me exactly how crazy my experiences have made me. Don't worry. I'm sure you'll get quite enough evidence that you'll be able to officially kick me out of Starfleet." Deanna looked at him. "Is that really why you think I'm here?" His immediate answer was going to be 'yes', but he knew couldn't lie outright like that. "No," he admitted. "Not really. I'll probably resign, anyway." That comment must have surprised the counselor, as Data was even able to register it on her face. "You're going to resign?" Data shrugged. "I don't really see what good staying in Starfleet would do me. Everything that made me good at my job was programming, which I don't have anymore." Deanna's brow creased slightly. "Why do you see it that way?" "You're the counselor," he told her. "Aren't you supposed to tell me?" Deanna hesitated, and Data took that as the opening he needed. "Listen," he told her. "I was just leaving. I don't really care what kind of report you give to Captain Picard about me. Just tell him what you think; tell him I'm crazy. Computer, exit." The archway appeared just beyond where Deanna was standing, and Data stepped past her on his way there. It was Deanna's voice that stopped him from actually leaving. "I don't think you're crazy." She hadn't spoken loudly, and over the whistle of the wind, her voice was even more quiet. But somehow, Data heard every word perfectly. He turned to face her. "Really." "Really," she confirmed. Data shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "What makes you think that?" "I'm a counselor," she said. "It's my job to know." "Well... that's good... isn't it?" Deanna smiled. "I think so." Data sighed, mostly in resignation. "So why did you really come here?" "I came here because I was worried about you," she replied. "And I wanted to make sure you were okay." "I'm fine," he said, a little too quickly. Deanna looked at him. Data took a deep breath, before saying again. "I'm fine. Really. I just..." he raised one of his hands, as though hoping to snatch the right words out of thin air. When he couldn't seem to accomplish the task, he clenched his fingers into a fist, and lowered his hand. "I don't know. I just wanted to go somewhere... familiar." "The ship isn't familiar?" "It is, but this is... a different kind of familiar...." he paused. "Ever since I came back here, things have been different--strange. People I thought I knew... I see them differently, now. I understand people differently, because I can see where they're coming from sometimes. But then I still have these memories of what it used to be like. Only all the memories I have... It's like they're in black and white. There's none of the colour that there is to everything that I remember after that..." he sighed. "I'm afraid I'm not making much sense." "I can't pretend to know what it's been like for you," Deanna admitted. "But I remember when I lost my empathic powers, and how lost that made me feel. I was so used to walking around and feeling what everyone else was feeling, I was used to sensing peoples' presence. To walk down the hallway and not know there was someone else there until you either saw or heard them... it was very hard for me. I felt very much as you described: empty, as though I was missing something that was a part of myself." Data didn't say anything, so Deanna continued. "Data... I know this is hard for you. I just came here to tell you to stay open about things. Don't just brush off your friends, thinking that just because they might not understand, they don't care. You know in your heart that's not true." "I..." Data was interrupted by a familiar alarm. "Yellow alert... all senior staff report to the bridge... yellow alert... all senior staff report to the bridge..." Data and Counselor Troi exchanged a glance, before exiting the holodeck where they saw the yellow lights flashing across the access panels that lined the corridor. "C'mon," she told him, and started leading the way down the hallway. Data followed her for a few steps before remembering that he wasn't technically on the senior staff any more. Realizing that he wasn't following her, Deanna stopped, and turned around. "No one will kick you off the bridge, Data." Data sighed, and then followed her towards the turbolift. NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!prodigy.com!atl-c02.usenetserver.com!chi1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!snoopy.risq.qc.ca!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 28/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 63 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:25:18 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098739301 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:21:41 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:21:41 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161180 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:36:52 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 28/33 Picard watched the ships on the viewscreen as they approached the prison complex. The wave of Maquis ships--for that's what they were--went seamlessly into attack formation. "Shields up," Picard instructed. Behind him, he knew Worf had obeyed his command. "Shall we offer our assistance, sir?" Riker inquired from his seat at Picard's right. Picard looked over at him in grim amusement. "I'm sure I don't need to recite to you Starfleet Academy lesson one on the Prime Directive, Number One." Riker looked at him for a moment, before shaking his head. "Of course not, sir." It was then that Picard was able to hear the sound of the bridge door sliding open. He turned slightly in his seat to see Counselor Troi and Data walk onto the bridge. Troi came around to the front of the bridge and took her customary seat at Picard's left. Data, though, walked more slowly down the ramp, seemingly unable to take his eyes off the viewscreen. He made his way over to the science console, where he looked over Susan Atkins' shoulder to examined her readings. "Maquis ships?" Picard nodded, confirming his former Lieutenant Commander's assessment. "They just came out of warp a few minutes ago. We've been tracking them since then." Data turned, then, and looked at the captain. "What are you going to do?" "I'm going to follow the Prime Directive," Picard informed him. "It's not our business to interfere in the matters of non-Federation worlds." Picard watched Data's expression. He knew that Data would be considering this response, as the Maquis were mostly traitors--traitors who were wanted by Starfleet. That fact in mind, it would be their duty to try and intercept the ships. Certainly, they were outnumbered, but Picard wasn't usually one to run away from a fight. After a long moment of deliberation, Data kept silent, and returned his attention to the viewscreen. He crossed his arms across his chest, and watched the battle unfold. Red phaser beams curved through space towards the prison from the six Maquis ships, all of them hitting their target. The prison's defense system managed a few shots, but with the combined firepower of the Maquis, they were practically helpless. "Viewscreen off," Picard ordered. "Take us to a safe distance." The image of the prison, surrounded by the Maquis ships, disappeared from the screen, replaced with a neutral starfield. "Once its over," he began, speaking to Riker. "I want you to lead an away team down to the prison, to look for survivors, and any dead you find." Wordlessly, Riker nodded his ascent. "Mr. Data." Data didn't respond directly, so Picard repeated his name. "Mr. Data." This time, Data did turn to face the captain. "It might be best if you were to wait in your quarters," he told Data, not unkindly. "I'll contact you if you're needed." Data hesitated a moment longer, as he shot a glance in Counselor Troi's direction. Finally, though, he nodded, and headed back up the ramp, and into the turbolift. Picard uncrossed his legs, and then crossed them again, hands folded neatly, and calmly, in his lap. ____________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 29/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 41 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:25:55 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098739337 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:22:17 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:22:17 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161181 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:37:25 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 29/33 Mika saw them running by her, felt their bodies jostle against her as they bumped past. And as she stood there, surrounded by the desperate jubilation of the escaping prisoners, she felt time slow down. She could feel every pulse of her heart as it pumped the blood through her veins. Her heartbeat echoed off the walls, as all the other sounds faded around her. She looked down the hall at the Maquis officer, gesturing in a laborious, sweeping motion that she should follow him, saw the Cardassian guards turn the corner towards her, all against the backdrop of the slow, muffled thumping of her heart. The lead guard pulled up, and she watched unmoving as he raised his phaser in her direction, the rhythm of her thumping heart disrupted by a sudden quickening of its tempo. Her eyes followed the red laser beam as it leapt towards her, hitting her squarely in the chest. Her eyelids shut over her pupils, and when they drew back again, the scene was blurred. She felt the wrongness throughout her entire body, and soon after that, the rhythm of her heartbeat again changed, this time slowing even more. Mika took a deep, prolonged breath, her lungs filling with air for what would be the final time. There seemed to be minutes between each beat, as Mika dropped to her knees. She was only acutely aware of the phaser blasts that arched over her head, felling the guards. The world faded in and out around her, her eyes taking in the last sights she would see, before they finally closed. Her heart thumped a final, drawn out beat, as her body collapsed to the floor. It was then that her lungs finally deflated, pushing all remaining life from her still form. The world continued around her, phaser blasts whizzing about in the hands of Maquis and Cardassians alike as booted feet stumbled over and around Mika's lifeless body. Finally, though, the blasts ended, the Maquis being the only ones left standing. The Maquis and the prisoners then fled to the ships, leaving Mika's body alone in the corridor, her smooth, clammy flesh intertwined with the grey, scaled skin of Cardassians, as they all lay still in the silent, deserted corridor, uniting in death as they never could in life. __________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-nf2-pas!newsfeed.earthlink.net!sjc1.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 30/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 93 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: <3aefd.5370$rs5.343287@news20.bellglobal.com> Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:27:52 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098739455 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:24:15 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:24:15 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161182 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:39:21 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 30/33 The wait was agonizing. Every minute that passed was hell, and the worst part was, Data didn't know if it would be better or worse for the away team to return sooner, rather than later. As he paced the length of his quarters for the umpteenth time, he couldn't help but think that his life was being held in the balance, with him having absolutely no control over the outcome. For a moment, he was reminded of a dream he'd had... The buzz of the door chime interrupted his thoughts. Data stopped pacing, and stood there stupidly, looking at the door and wondering if the sound hadn't just been a figment of his imagination. When the chime sounded again, though, a few seconds later, he was convinced. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to face his visitor. "Come." The door slid open, and a very solemn Counselor Troi entered. "Hello, Data," she said simply. Data simply nodded in response, unwilling to accept the inevitable, yet trying desperately not to raise his hopes. "Dr. Crusher would like you to come to sickbay," she told him. "To identify some of the bodies from the prison." Silently, Data nodded. The walk to sickbay was done in silence, although Data knew Deanna was casting him the occasional glance. No doubt, she sensed the violent emotions inside him, and was nervous as to how he would handle the upcoming situation. For his part, however, Data was determined not to display any of those emotions in front of the Enterprise crew. He knew they wouldn't think any less of him because of it, but it didn't matter. The pitying expressions on their faces would be enough. Their pity was one thing that he wouldn't--couldn't--accept. It seemed to take forever to get there. Although as an android he'd never questioned it, Data found himself wondering why it always took so long to get anywhere on a starship. They certainly didn't seem to be built with maximum convenience in mind. Then again, perhaps it was just because he desperately wanted to break into a run that the trip seemed so terribly laborious. In any case, his mild annoyance over the matter served to take his mind away from the true issues at hand long enough for them to arrive, finally, at sickbay. Deanna, predictably, led the way, no doubt feeling as though she were guarding Data from whatever lay on the other side. Tolerating her sensitivity, Data stepped through the door after her. Actually, there really wasn't much to look at. The portable biobeds, which were rarely used except in medical emergencies, were set up all around him. Each one housed a body, covered in a sterile, clean, almost mockingly crisp blue blanket. Data knew that each would also be surrounded by a containment field, but he couldn't help imagining that he could smell the death in the air. Dr. Crusher, who was instructing one of the nurses over a console, saw them then, and came over to meet them. She stuffed a pad into the deep pocket of her med coat, and ran a hand--rather haphazardly, Data thought--through her long, orange hair. "You ready to match some names with faces?" she asked him, no humor in her voice. "As ready as I'll ever be," he replied tonelessly. Beverly nodded, and made her way over to one of the bodies, the first on the far right side of the room. She pulled a pair of clean blue gloves over her hands before reaching through the containment field to pull back the sheet that covered the person's face. It was a woman, Data saw, possibly in her mid-thirties. He didn't recognize her. He met Beverly's gaze, and shook his head. The procedure went on, slowly and silently, as one unfamiliar face after another was unveiled. Beverly was just about to replace the blanket over the face of the fourth body when Data finally spoke. "Wait." As instructed, the doctor halted her movement, leaving the face of the deceased exposed. "Do you recognize him?" Truthfully, Data hadn't even recognized the form as being either male or female, so severe was the disfigurement. The man, presumably a Bajoran, had severe phaser burn scars covering the entire right side of his face. The burns had healed over, but the scaring was intense. His right eye was sealed over, and thick folds of dead tissue obscured his cheek. Still, there was something about the dead man that struck Data as familiar. "Could you... open his eyes...er, eye?" Beverly's sharp eyes flickered over at both Data and Deanna, but she did as requested, using her index finger and thumb to ease open the man's lifeless eyelid. The task revealed a dark, unmoving pupil, surrounded by an iris of striking, radiant green. Data looked quickly at Beverly, who closed the man's lid and removed her hands from the containment field. "I know him," Data said. "He worked with me in engineering on our ship. His name is Talos." "Do you remember what his first name was?" she asked. Had Data not been slightly preoccupied with his thoughts, he might have been offended by the intimation that he could ever forget something so important. As it was, however, he let it pass. "No," he replied. "I only knew him for a few hours before we were captured. It just... never seemed important at the time. But I do know that he was a good officer, and he did his job well." Beverly simply nodded, and entered the pertinent information into her pad. NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 31/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 85 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:28:45 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098739507 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:25:07 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:25:07 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161183 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:40:28 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 31/33 The surreal air of the whole experience was beginning to get to Data by that point. The muffled speech, the solemn faces, the bright white lights shinning down on the overwhelmingly spotless blue decor; it was all turning into a dream, its outcome no longer of paramount importance. The next two people, both female, Data also recognized. One of them he remembered from Bink's ship. He rattled off what he assumed was a reasonable approximation of her name, and watched with detached coolness as Beverly pulled the blue cloth back over her face. The next person he remembered seeing in the prison, but wasn't sure of her name. His words sounded very distant to him, as though they'd come from someone else's mouth, while he watched and listened from afar; a scientist, observing the events unfolding from behind a thick, glass observation window. Even his body no longer seemed a part of him, his legs moving forward in a memorized rhythm rather than impetus. His hands lay motionless at his sides, only swinging gently back and forth as they walked from body to corrupted, lifeless body. Again and again, he made his way through the motions. It seemed the string of holocaust was endless. It was difficult for Data to believe that, criminals or not, anyone deserved to die the way these prisoners had; cold, and alone, and drawing their final breaths into lungs under the protruding bones of their ribcages, while lying helpless on the inert cement floor of a Cardassian prison. Looking into each of their faces, he felt his own experiences coming back to him. Even the surreal atmosphere of sickbay now seemed obscured, blurred by the colourful and vivid recollections of his imprisonment, coming back to him then in an almost clearer light than when they'd originally occurred. Things he'd tried to suppress, pains he'd worked to forget, they all seemed suddenly very real. He could feel the rough, scaled hands of Gul Ropek against the thin skin of his neck. The Cardassian's grip oozed strength, every tiny muscle of his fingers seeming to be in absolute alignment with the other. His scabrous palms pressed lightly against Data's pale skin, almost ticklish in the feather touch they exhibited. It was the powerful, disciplined fingers of the Gul, though, that did most of the work. Firmly, yet gently, his fingers made their way up Data's neck, to the base of his jaw. There they stopped, his index finger worming its way under the left side of Data's jaw, his thumb under the right. The joint between the two digits eased its way down onto Data's larynx, until he was being held so securely that it was impossible to even swallow. He heard his own voice, weak and distant, begging for mercy. He felt the frightened, erratic tears slipping down his cheeks of their own accord, heard himself pleading for death, if only because he couldn't bear the suspense. He remembered collapsing at the Gul's feet, a shaken pile of flesh, unable to even gather himself enough to stand. He remembered the booted feet that assaulted him, and how he no longer cared about the pain. He lost control of his voice, and his body, and at some point, reality, as he finally slipped into unconsciousness. Beverly's blue gloved hands reached through the containment field on the final biobed, and gently unveiled the corpse beneath. Before he even looked upon her face, Data knew it was her. He looked anyway, though, unable to resist a final glimpse. Her hair was longer than it had been, and lay in matted, greasy knots about her forehead. The long, crooked scar that adorned her left cheek was purpled, causing it to stand out even more prominently against her pale, almost translucent skin. Data saw that even in the peacefulness of death, she still retained a worried demeanor. Perhaps it was the deep, blackened circles under her eyes, now destined to remain with her always, which created the impression. Or perhaps it was simply Data's wishful thinking, projecting upon her departed consciousness the attributes that he'd always felt most characterized her in life. He was struck with the sudden impulse to touch her, to stroke her scarred cheek, and run his thumb gently down the accordion ridges that decorated the bridge of her nose. He resisted, however, knowing that it would disrupt the forcefield, but also realizing that he couldn't bear to feel her cold skin under his fingers. He merely stood there, regarding the body of the woman he had loved with a vacant expression from behind his observation window. "Did you know her?" Data didn't dare try to tear his eyes away from her long enough to meet Beverly Crusher's gaze. "Yes," he said. "Her name is Talara Mikal. She captained one of the transports." If Data noticed the way Deanna looked at him then, he didn't show it, as he watched the doctor replace Mika's covering. Once her face was finally out of view, he met Beverly's eyes. "Is that all, doctor?" She nodded. "Yes. Thank you. If I need anything else from you, I'll let you know." Data nodded, still avoiding Deanna's eyes as he made his way methodically towards the exit. He walked straight back to his quarters, where he sat in silence for several hours, before finally falling asleep. __________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 32/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 138 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:29:42 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098739565 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:26:05 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:26:05 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161184 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:41:19 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 32/33 Data sat at the edge of the pond, allowing his bare feet to dip into the clear, cool water. A faint breeze wafted through the air, which carried with it a familiar smell. Data couldn't place where he remembered the smell from, only that is was very familiar. Very familiar... and very welcome. He looked up at the bright sun, which didn't at all burn his eyes, despite its radiance. When he looked back down at the pond, he saw that the water had disappeared, replaced instead with a deep, rocky chasm, with a seemingly non-existent bottom. Data stared down its depths for a very long time. Then, giving in to an impulse, he pushed his body away from the edge of the cliff. The air ripped along his body as he plummeted down into the bottomless chasm. He opened his arms like wings, and didn't try and resist the fall, not that he'd have had any chance to do so. As he fell, he watched the rocky side of the cliff. It seemed to go on so long that he forgot that he was even falling. Instead, it felt as though he were flying--drifting through the air on a steady wind. He closed his eyes, and enjoyed the sensation. After what seemed like an eternity, he hit something. His body stopped hard, and for a very long time he was afraid to open his eyes, scared that he would find himself staring up at the celestial temple of the Prophets. When he finally did open his eyes, however, he found himself in his darkened quarters, seated on one end of his couch. He realized then that he must have fallen asleep while sitting there. He was just about to request the time from the computer, when he heard a voice from behind him. He turned towards the sound, but found nothing there. No sooner had he turned around again, however, when he heard the voice again, whispering his name. Again, he turned, and again, he found nothing. This time when he turned back around, he suddenly saw her standing before him. Her white dress flowed out over her feet, and the sleeveless top clung to her in all the right places. Her short, brown hair was tamed, somehow, and didn't look quite as unruly as it usually did. The thin lips of her small mouth seemed to glisten in the dim light. The circles seemed to be gone from under her eyes, but the crooked, light purple scar still ran down the left side of her face. "My dear Data," she smiled. "I'm glad you're getting some rest." "Mika..." he breathed, scarcely able to believe it. "I thought... I mean, I saw..." "Shhhh..." she held a finger lightly to her lips, and let it slide away down her face. "I've missed you." "Mika..." he said again, still unable to believe the sight. "How can you be here?" "Because it is the will of the Prophets," she replied evenly. Data hesitated. There were so many things he had wanted to say to her... Only now, he couldn't seem to remember any of them. "It wasn't your fault, Data," she said softly. "I..." "It... wasn't... your... fault." Data shook his head. "They all died Mika. All of them... I killed you Mika. You died, and I couldn't save you. I tried so hard... but I couldn't save you..." "It wasn't your fault," she said again. Data bristled, almost angry that she wasn't placing any blame on him, as he'd convinced himself she would. "Then who's fault was it?" "Mine," she said softly. "No," he shook his head. "It's not, it's..." "I didn't trust you," she explained. "I could have lived. I could have survived, and escaped with the others. But I didn't. I didn't because I thought you had betrayed me. I thought that you were a Federation spy, and that you'd betrayed me. I died because I couldn't trust. And I should have trusted you, Data." Data was unable to accept that explanation. "I did leave you in that prison, Mika. And it was my fault that you were captured in the first place. Blaming yourself doesn't make it right." "I know," she said. "But you must let it go. As you must let them go. As you must let me go. We are with the Prophets now." "Mika..." his eyes searched her. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered. "Why are you here?" "To apologize," she replied. "And to say goodbye." She regarded him for a long moment with clear, and unblinking chocolate eyes. "Goodbye, Data." She turned, and began walking away from him. To where, Data wasn't really sure, but it didn't matter; it was clear enough that wherever she was going, it was away from him. "Don't leave, Mika!" He stepped forward, his intent to grab her shoulder to stop her. But something told him not to touch her, perhaps a fear that if he tried it would somehow cause her image to vanish. In any case, Data needn't have bothered trying to stop her physically. Mika had already stopped walking. Slowly, and with the urgency of someone who has all the time in the universe-and, indeed, she might have-Mika turned to face him. "Yes?" Data stared at her stupidly, his mouth forgetting the words his mind had wanted him to say. "You are so beautiful." Mika smiled. "Thank you." "And," he said quickly, somehow sensing that he might not have much time left. "I love you. I don't want to live if you're not here with me." She looked deeply into his eyes with a wisdom Data had never before encountered. There was a trace of a smile on her lips. If Data had to classify it, he would call it a sad smile, if only because that was the closest description that he could think of. "My dear Data..." She reached up a hand to the side of his face, but stopped a few centimeters from actually touching him. "You have your whole life ahead of you," she told him. "There will be others, others that you will love far more deeply than you could have ever loved me. There are still lessons you need to learn... there are still adventures ahead of you. There are people here who love you, and if you look, you'll find that you love them. This is your home, Data. You need to stay here for a while." Mika lowered her hand, and took a half step away from him. Knowing she was preparing to leave, Data was almost desperate to stop her. "I don't want you to go. I miss you so much..." "We will meet again," Mika said confidently. Data looked at her, really looked at her. He saw her standing there in front of him, saw her carrying her head high, saw her relaxed shoulders, saw the peaceful expression on her face... And he knew it was a peace the Cardassians would never be able to take away from her again. "I look forward to that day," Data heard the words leave him, and there was a part of him-the part of him that wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around Mika and never let her go-that could scarcely believe he had said them. "As do I." Looking into her eyes for what he knew would be the final time, Data felt the tears he'd held in for so long constricting his throat. He had to swallow before he was able to speak. "Am I dreaming, Mika?" It seemed an eternity that he stood there in front of her, their eyes locked together in silence, before she answered him. "I don't know... What do you think?" Data didn't answer her question. The last of her expression he was able to make out before he lost her image was of Mika looking... Data hesitated to call it happy. More... content. __________________________________________________________ Data awoke the next morning, lying on the couch of his quarters. As he always did, he showered and shaved, and then went to get dressed. And, for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, he put on his Starfleet uniform. Looking down at his golden sleeves, he realized that he should have done it a long time ago. ________________________________________________________ NewMessage: ath: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!atl-c03.usenetserver.com!news.usenetserver.com!wns14feed!worldnet.att.net!207.35.177.252!nf3.bellglobal.com!nf1.bellglobal.com!nf2.bellglobal.com!news20.bellglobal.com.POSTED!not-for-mail From: "Anna Peppard" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative Subject: NEW TNG Dream and Duty Sequel Part 33/33 [pg 13] D/f Lines: 70 X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Newsreader: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1106 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 Message-ID: <9cefd.5373$rs5.343704@news20.bellglobal.com> Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:30:06 -0400 NNTP-Posting-Host: 216.209.185.163 X-Complaints-To: abuse@sympatico.ca X-Trace: news20.bellglobal.com 1098739589 216.209.185.163 (Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:26:29 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 17:26:29 EDT Organization: Bell Sympatico Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative:161185 X-Received-Date: Mon, 25 Oct 2004 14:41:38 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Dream and Duty Part Two: What the Mourning Brings Part 33/33 Epilogue Data and Sal stood at the edge of the promenade, out of the way of the assorted aliens and Starfleet personnel on their way to various locations. No one spared them a glance, as goodbyes were something people on a space station such as Deep Space Nine were used to watching. It was a stopping point for thousands of aliens every week. And for just as many, it was also a starting point. "Where will you go?" "I've booked passage with a Captain Yates to go back to Romulus," Sal replied. "I still need some answers, and I'm not sure where else to begin." Data had no idea what her search for answers might entail, but neither chose to comment on it. "I suppose you'll be able to resume your duties now," said Sal. "Will you stay on the Enterprise?" Data gave a half smile. It was a small gesture, but Sal was glad to see it. "Starfleet has officially re-instated me, with my complete rank intact," he said. "Besides... it's my home. I know that now." "Do you know what Starfleet is going to do with the rest of the refugees?" she asked. "There's to be a hearing," he told her. "But it's only within Starfleet, meaning the Cardassian government won't be involved. With Captain Picard's favourable recommendation, though... I think things will turn out okay." Sal nodded. "That good to hear." "Yes," he agreed. "That's what I thought." Sal's eyes flickered down for a moment before she spoke. "Well... I guess this is it." "Yeah," Data nodded. "I guess so." "If you see Mika, tell her I miss her, too," Sal said softly. "I will," Data assured her. Sal lowered her eyes, feeling suddenly nervous, and unsure. Then, making a decision, she stepped forward, and wrapped her arms around her friend. He hugged her back warmly. "I'll miss you," he told her, as the hug ended. "Are you sure you don't want to stay for a little while? We can always drop you off in a month, or so..." "No," Sal interrupted, firmly, but not harshly. "I've been away too long already." Data nodded, understanding her need for completion, at least. "Let me know how it turns out." "I will," she assured him. "And... thank you." He eyed her. "For what?" "For giving me a reason to believe that there is a better life out there." Data smiled, rather hesitantly. Sal knew he probably didn't know how to take the compliment. "Goodbye, Sal," he said at last. "Goodbye." With a final glance, Data turned and entered the fray of species, heading for the station's transporter room, she knew. Sal watched his departing figure with stony silence until he finally rounded a corner, and she could no longer follow his movement. Then she turned away, and started walking. She walked carefully, placing one foot in front of the other, towards the docking port. Her head she held high, proudly. Not arrogantly, just... proudly. Pride, in her friends and in herself, would soon have to be the foundation for her new life on Romulus. She realized, with just a hint of a smile, that she looked forward to it. _________________________________________________________ THE END (I think) Comments? twinklewunderkid@hotmail.com NewMessage: