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"What Stars Could Not Contain" -------------------------------- A Star Trek: The Next Generation Story ---------------------------------------- by Melanie Miller ------------------- Captain's log, Stardate 42495.2. The Enterprise is in orbit around Arius IV, preparing to rendezvous with a Talari'ian delegation en route to the Chal/ Sencor peace talks. The Talarii, often called the cultural opposites of the Vulcans, are numbered among the finest diplomats in the Federation because of their intensive study of emotion and expression. With this training, a Talari'ian diplomat is incapable of seeing only one side of a story, a debate - or a war. This legendary objectivity has made the Talarii invaluable in negotiations, especially sensitive ones such as the Chal/Sencor talks. Negotiating with either the Chaleds or the Sencorians, two of the most hostile races in the galaxy, would be a delicate undertaking in any case. Negotiating with both races, however, may be impossible even for a Talari'ian. It was 1400 hours, ship's time, and Data was off duty. The android, clad in the mustard and black uniform of a operations officer, was headed down to crew's quarters to meet Geordi LaForge, the chief engineer of the Enterprise. Now that Geordi had been promoted, the two friends had a hard time getting together during off-duty time, and going to the Centaurian Fiestus in Holodeck Three had required some major schedule juggling on both their parts. It was a feat of planning that Geordi had time to regret when Data began asking why people felt the need to hold parties. "Well, everyone needs to blow off steam occasionally, especially when they have to work in close quarters like a starship," Geordi had tried to explain, "so I guess you could say parties are kind of an escape valve. Basically, it's just a excuse to meet your friends and have a good time." "But I meet with my friends often, and I enjoy my duties," Data replied, observing how the blind engineer tried to stifle a sigh. For some reason, humans usually sighed while answering his questions. "Why should there be a special occasion for this sort of activity?" Resigned, Geordi laughed and shook his head. "I guess some of us just don't have your appetite for work, Data," he said, grinning at the android. "What's the big deal? You've never objected to going to a party before." "I do not object to attending the Fiestus - I am merely investigating the reasons behind celebrations of this sort," Data replied. "I find it to be a fascinating area of human experience. As you said," and he accessed Geordi's descriptions, his careful tone completely ruining the syntax, "they are a chance to cut loose, frolic, make merry, relax, blow off steam." He paused as his memory banks supplied an explanation for the last phrase. "Although I do not understand how escape valves or exploding gases could be associated with a party," he mused. Behind the VISOR, Geordi rolled his eyes. "You obviously haven't been to a Fiestus before," he said, grinning. Recalling this, Data arrived at Geordi's cabin. Before he could signal for entrance, the door opened and Geordi stepped out, followed by an attractive young woman wearing the teal blue of a medic, who was casually refastening the front seam of her uniform. Still talking to the woman, Geordi turned around, his expression shifting from an easy grin to surprise. "Uh, Data," he blurted, with a nervous glance at the medic. "You're here already." "You did ask me to be here at 1405 hours," Data reminded him. "Right," Geordi agreed sheepishly. Gently, the woman nudged him. "Um, Data, I'd like you to meet Christine Trippell," he added, introducing the medic. "She's going with us to the party." "It's very nice to meet you, Data," Christine said pleasantly. "Geordi's told me all about you. I hope you don't mind that I'm tagging along like this." She turned back to Geordi, her expression changing, becoming more playful. "I guess I just can't bear to leave this man alone." Data looked intrigued. "Inquiry - tagging along?" he asked. Geordi gave the android a slightly pained look. "Unexpectedly joining a party," he explained. "Ah, an idiom." Data began cross-referencing. "An uninvited guest, an unexpected visitor, two's company, three's a crowd -" "Data," Geordi muttered, "not now." "Oh. I am babbling again," Data replied, taking in the situation. Lieutenant Trippell was obviously a friend of Geordi's, perhaps a good one, judging from the playfully possessive way she took his arm. Geordi's expression seemed to indicate that he did not object to this type of possession, and was participating in it. The fact the the lieutenant was refastening her uniform as she left Geordi's cabin would suggest that some activity, possibly of a sexual nature, had occurred before he had arrived. Examining these hypotheses, Data compared them to human experience parameters, and found a matching situation. "May I ask another question?" he said. This time, Geordi didn't bother to smother the sigh. "Sure." "Are you two engaged in a romantic relationship?" Surprised, Lieutenant Trippell laughed. "That's a fairly blunt way of putting it," she admitted, patting her uniform as if looking for something. "And I think I left my satchel in your room, Geordi, so why don't you explain it to your friend while I'm gone?" Giving Data a faintly naughty look, she went back into the cabin. As soon as the door was firmly closed, Geordi said, "Listen, old buddy, Chris and I are just staring to see each other - romantically, I mean. I met her a week ago at the Holodeck, and it looks like it might be getting kind of serious." Self-consciously, he touched his VISOR. "She's really great - nothing bothers her, not even this. She likes me for who I am, and -" He broke off, searching for the right words. "Well, you just don't find that kind of acceptance very often." "I understand," Data said, nodding. "A relationship of this type is important to you. I am happy that you have found someone who is compatible." "She's compatible, all right," Geordi agreed. "And speaking of compatibility, there was something I wanted to ask you. About the party..." He trailed off, trying to frame his request to be as painless as possible. "Well, you really didn't want to go, did you?" "I did agree that I would go with you," Data protested. "I will find some way to entertain myself." He thought for a moment. "Perhaps with jokes..." "No, that's not what I meant," Geordi protested, holding his hands up. "What I meant was - would you mind if I went to the party with Chris?" He paused. "Just with Chris." Data processed the request. "Oh. You wish to be alone with her." "Riiight," Geordi sighed. "I mean, our schedules really clash, and I haven't gotten a chance to see her lately, and..." He shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "I just want to spend some time with her, one-on-one," he admitted. "So would you mind bowing out this time?" Data gazed at his friend solemnly. "If that is what you wish, I will find something else to do," he said. Geordi felt a quick stab of guilt. He had never done something like this to Data, and he didn't know if the android would understand - "Are you sure? I mean, I could always try rescheduling..." "I am sure. There are some spectroanalysis studies I have been meaning to perform, and this will provide the necessary time," Data said soberly. "And, as you said, there will always be a need for parties - I can attend one of those." What made it difficult was the honesty in Data's voice, Geordi thought - no sarcasm or guilt trips there. He really meant it. "I owe you one, buddy," the engineer said roughly, clapping him on the shoulder. "You owe me nothing," Data corrected him. "It is something that friends do for other friends. I hope that you and Christine enjoy the Fiestus." "Yeah, I think we will." And giving Data one last grin, he went back into the cabin. Alone in the hallway, the android considered the door for a moment, before turning back towards the bridge. As he reached the turbolift, a woman called out for him to wait. Recognizing the voice, he instructed the elevator to hold for the second passenger, Deanna Troi. The petite Betazoid was dressed in a form-fitting uniform of dusty lavender, one of the pastel colors that identified a Ship's Counselor. "Oh, hello, Data," she said, slightly out of breath. "Thanks for holding the lift. Are you going to the bridge?" "Correct," he agreed, voice-activating the turbolift. With a muted hum, the capsule shot upward towards the saucer. "There are some research projects I would like to transfer from the science station." "But aren't you off-duty? I thought by now you and Geordi would be at the Fiestus." "We would have been, but Geordi asked me not to go with him." Deanna looked surprised. "That doesn't sound like Geordi," she murmured. "You two seem to go everywhere together." "Tonight, he wished to go with Lieutenant Christine Trippell," Data replied. "Apparently, they are beginning a romantic relationship, and he wanted to be alone with her." He looked puzzled at the memory of Geordi's request. "Although I do not understand how they could be alone in a Holodeck full of people," he added. Deanna's eyes crinkled as she smothered a laugh. "When you're falling in love, the rest of the world doesn't seem to exist," she explained, the smile fading. It was almost impossible for her to sense what Data was `feeling' as she would with an organic being, but close association had trained her to read some of his stronger reactions. "I take it that you're not happy about Geordi finding a girlfriend." Data considered it for a moment. "I am happy that he has found someone who cares about him," he said carefully. "I know that the idea of a romantic partner is very significant to Geordi." "But now that he's found one, you're feeling left out," she prompted. "It would seem so. I do not understand his need for love, but I recognize the importance he places on it. Perhaps it is important enough to utilize all of his free time." "Data, being in love doesn't mean that you have to cut off all other relationships," Deanna tried to explain. "Admittedly, it can be very absorbing, and Geordi will be spending a good deal of time with Christine, but I'm sure he'll still want to spend time with you." "But you cannot guarantee that." "No, I cannot," she admitted. "But I do know Geordi. Believe me, he isn't going to forget you. Just give him time." Data nodded. "I suppose this is another aspect of friendship," he said hesitantly, "that I am upset when he wants to spend more time with someone else." He evaluated the disturbing sensation, trying to find the proper descriptive symbol. "Would this be considered jealousy?" "Yes, it would be," said Deanna. "And if it makes you feel any better, it's a very normal reaction for this type of situation." He nodded again. "Interesting. It is an unpleasant experience." "That's very true," she said, as the turbolift slowed. Any further advice was cut off as the turbolift doors opened, admitting them to the bridge and Captain Jean-Luc Picard, who was obviously waiting for Deanna. "Counselor, I thought you were supposed to meet me on the bridge three minutes ago," he said crisply. Deanna glanced at a wall chronometer, flushing slightly. "I'm sorry, Captain," she tried to explain. "I didn't realize the time..." "It is my fault she was late, Captain," Data interjected. "Counselor Troi met me on the way here, and I delayed her with a personal problem. However, it can wait until appointment hours." Deanna flashed Data a thank-you glance. "And as you've noted, we are late..." she said diplomatically. "Yes, and we're supposed to meet the Talari'ian party as soon as they beam aboard," Picard said, entering the lift with Deanna in tow. "The latest reports from Starfleet say that the cease-fire on Voltua is breaking down, and we're to transport the ambassador and her party there as soon as possible." Quickly, Data stepped up to the door of the turbolift. "Captain, may I accompany you?" he asked. "I have long had a great admiration for Talari'ian diplomatic techniques, and it would be an honor to meet the High Ambassador," he added as an explanation. "Hmm. All right," the captain agreed, ordering the lift to the Transporter Room. "Admittedly, I'm rather curious about them myself. I've only met the Ambassador once before, although I'm well aware of her negotiating expertise - her preliminary discussions with the Romulans have been remarkable. It's surprising that such an emotionally volatile race has provided such excellent diplomats." "When you understand their background," Deanna said thoughtfully, "it begins to make sense." The Talarii had been a famous case history with the Ben'harr Institute on Betazed - after decades of reckless genocide, with their race on the edge of extinction, the High Council of Talar had finally submitted to a sociopsychological profile in an attempt to understand the Talarii's need for bloodshed. Betazoid counselors discovered that a Talari'ian's psychological makeup contained an unusually broad spectrum of emotions; unchecked, this abnormal range eventually produced a conflict within the psyche that had been externalized as constant civil war. "The fact that, with proper training and study, the Talarii could learn to channel and study their emotions in such a productive way was an incredible discovery," she concluded. "One that led to the first peaceful culture in their history, as well as the Tsana Soii, their central creed," Data added. His voice took on a sing-song tone as he recited the first verse... "Ca'than, mi ca'tsai. A ca'tsaithe, Eo ksaatha tuii ca'than." "`To feel, is to be,'" Picard translated. "`But to truly be, one must comprehend the boundaries of feeling'" He smiled slightly at Deanna's look of surprise. "One of my philosophy classes at the Academy dealt with the comparison of Vulcan and Talari'ian cultural responses to emotion," he said. "Interesting, how both races were faced with the same problem, yet took such wildly divergent paths - the Vulcans choosing to eliminate emotion, and the Talari'ians devoting their lives to it." The hum of the turbolift dimmed, discharging them onto Level 10. As the three officers entered the Transporter Room, Picard nodded to the yeoman standing at the controls. Bioelectronic contacts were made with the planet below, and fragmented beams of light began to glow on the Transporter, solidifying into five figures. The Talarii were humanoids, ranging between 1.73 and 1.78 meters in height, with pale, iridescent skin, lilac eyes, and dark violet hair formally braided into thick, waist-length strands, a style adopted by both males and females. Their uniform travel cloaks were deep grey, with silver clan totems worked along the borders, and served to remind the observer of the race's traditional neutrality. Moving gracefully, the group walked off the Transporter floor and fanned out behind their leader, an elderly woman carrying the jeweled staff of a Talarii high ambassador. "Greetings, noble ambassador," Picard intoned formally, stepping forward and nodding. "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard, and these are my officers, Counselor Deanna Troi and Lieutenant Commander Data." As he introduced them, each stepped forward. "We welcome you to the Enterprise." The ambassador looked up at him, violet eyes twinkling from a fine network of wrinkles. "A most beautiful welcome, Captain," she said, her voice light with the melodic intonation of the Talarii. "We graciously thank you for your hospitality. I am Althea Xsa Cha'asalii, High Ambassador to Talar, and these," she waved at the four behind her, "are members of my personal staff. Chui and Ca'than Tsoi, my personal assistants." Two slim, muscled men bowed formally. "And my grand-niece, Cathara Cha Cha'asalii, my heir and attach." An attractive young woman, purple braids gathered down her back in a metallic mesh net, stepped forward with her palms touching in the Talar gesture of respect. "It is an honor for us to be aboard your ship, Captain Picard," she said brightly. "I may hope that I would see more of it during our journey." Picard smiled slightly. "If you wish, a tour could be arranged..." "Perhaps after we have completed our planning for the talks," Althea interrupted smoothly. "In the eagerness of her youth, my attach sometimes forgets the purpose of our mission." A faint flush crept up the younger woman's cheeks. "I accede to the ambassador's wishes," she said, bowing her head. "I apologize for my thoughtlessness. The mission is of the greatest importance, of course." "Do not be ashamed of your exuberance, child," the ambassador said gently. "You will learn restraint as you grow." With a reassuring nod at her grand- niece, Althea turned back to the captain. "However, Captain, perhaps a tour could be arranged for my secretary," she continued, gesturing for the fourth member of the party to come forward. "We will not need her services until we reach Voltua, and I would prefer to have her spare time used in learning." The secretary was another woman, dressed in a plain grey cloak. The solemnity of her uniform, its single decoration being a silver pendant, was reflected in a face of pale beauty marred (curiously for Talari'ians, Deanna noted) by a bland expression. "If the ambassador wishes me to learn about the Enterprise, then I will learn more about it," she said, her voice quiet and flat. "To serve is to understand." "Indeed," the ambassador replied, not looking at her secretary. "Captain?" "Of course. We would be delighted to arrange a tour for..." Picard hesitated, not knowing the young woman's name. For a moment, an undefinable expression flashed in Althea's eyes. "Khessa Xsa Cha'asalii," she said colorlessly. "My granddaughter." The captain noticed Deanna's eyebrows quirking at the revelation. "...a tour for Ms. Cha'asalii," he concluded. "Counselor?" Deanna nodded and glanced at Data, suddenly smiling to herself as she realized how she could fulfill two requests with one suggestion. "Captain, I believe Commander Data is currently off duty," she said innocently, gesturing to the other officer. "With his wide knowledge of the Enterprise, he would make an excellent guide." "Technically, this is true, Captain," Data replied. "Of course, that is because I am capable of retaining far more information on the technical, structural and historical details of the ship..." "Data." "...which are too numerous to discuss at the moment," he said innocently. "As for the counselor's suggestion, I would be happy to serve as guide for the ambassador's secretary." Khessa glanced at the ambassador, then at Data. "A tour would be very interesting," she said, quietly. "Thank you for your offer, Commander." Picard nodded, satisfied. "Then if everything's settled here, I'll have you escorted to your quarters, ambassador," he said, ignoring his curiosity about the tension between the two Talarii women. "There are a number of documents from the Federation awaiting your approval." "Yes, we have a great deal of work to do. Thank you, Captain." Turning to her secretary, Althea's face smoothed into marble. "Make good use of your time aboard the Enterprise, Cha'asalii," she said peremptorily. "We will summon you when we have need of you." Khessa bowed, her face echoing her grandmother's mask. "As you wish, Ambassador." As Picard and the Talari'ians left, Deanna noticed that Khessa watched the ambassadorial group for precisely the correct amount of time it would take to show respect. When the group had turned the corner, though, she visibly relaxed, the bland mask dissolving into a normal Talari'ian expression. For the first time since the ambassadorial party had come aboard, Deanna felt Khessa express an emotion - deep longing, combined with a raging anger. Somewhat concerned, Deanna decided to probe the exterior level of the other woman's emotions. FLARE Deanna almost recoiled from the first touch of Khessa's psyche, a roiling burst of wild sensation - old hates, fears, loves, the passions of a lifetime - overlaid by a set of mental restraints that seemed too fragile to restrain that raw emotion. The restraints were the Tsana Xoa, Deanna noted shakily, the codified mind/body discipline begun at birth to control the free passions of the Talarii. And - yes, there - a resonance, a feathery touch of a reaching mind, almost too slight to be noticed. Shocked, Deanna realized the Talari'ian was also an empath - and a suppressed one. Gingerly maintaining her probe, she called up her first impression of Khessa. It would have been impossible for anyone but a Betazoid to determine the Talari'ian's mental state, and even Deanna had read a blank until Khessa allowed herself to relax. But now, the full emotional range at Khessa's command made that eerie blankness seem an impossibility. Fleetingly, Deanna admired the precise control Khessa must have over her subconscious body mannerisms - but what could have caused it to develop? The Talari'ians were experts on emotional restraint and control, but they were not Vulcans. Free rein of feelings were allowed on Talar as long as they did not interfere with another Talari'ian's well-being - so why should Khessa deny herself emotional release, even to the point of stunting her telepathic skills? Unexpectedly, Khessa lifted her head to smile at Deanna. "I assume you're finished with your probe, Counselor Troi," she said, a dry, not unpleasant humor in her words. "I hope you're not startled. The Talari'ian psyche can be somewhat overwhelming to an empath." If Deanna hadn't been on duty, she would've blushed. "Yes, that is true," she replied evenly. "If you're offended, I apologize." "I'm not offended," the woman said, gesturing slightly. "It's a talent I... understand. Better than I wish to." Fascinated, Data asked, "Then you are an empath as well?" Khessa shrugged. "Not as well-developed as Betazoids or," she paused to regard Deanna, "half-Betazoids, if I'm not mistaken?" Deanna nodded, impressed. "Hmm. Well, most Talari'ians have a small amount of empathic or telepathic traits," Khessa continued. "Unlike Betazoids, it's not something we're proud of. It has unsavory connections, since being able to read another person's emotions sparked a great deal of wars on Talar." "In fact, trace empathic traits have provoked over fifteen conflicts on Talar," Data said. "The first, in 3/802, was the Mara Xia Confrontation, begun over a thought on a new uniform design..." "I'm sure the ambassador's granddaughter is well aware of her planet's history, Data," Deanna interjected gently. Khessa suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Please, if you must refer to me as anything, it's best if you call me the ambassador's secretary," she said, unconsciously placing a hand over the pendant at her throat. "Ambassador Cha'asalii doesn't like family terms to be used during a mission." "Of course," Deanna replied, although she was suddenly sure that the Talari'ian was lying. Procedure wasn't the real reason why Khessa didn't want the relationship acknowledged - otherwise, why would Althea have introduced her attach as her grand-niece? It was a puzzle that would have to wait. "If you'll excuse me, I have to report to the bridge," Deanna said. "If you are ready, perhaps you and Data could begin your tour." The Talari'ian glanced at Data, giving him a small, sober smile. "Excellent idea. Commander?" Data nodded. "I believe an interesting place to begin would be the Holodecks," he said, pausing as he considered what he knew of Talari'ian background. "Unless you would prefer to start somewhere else," he said. Khessa gave another small smile. "To serve is to understand," she said again. However, the words carried no hidden meaning this time. "I'm putting myself in your capable hands, Mr. Data. Lead on." On the bridge, Deanna reached her station, and sat down with obvious relief. Across from her, Commander William Riker was observing the viewscreen as the ship left orbit. "You look a little tired," he said in greeting, his eyes gleaming. "How did the reception go?" "Very odd," was her reply. "There's something unusual going on with the ambassador and her granddaughter." Before she could describe the meeting, they both heard the turbolift doors hiss. Captain Picard came on the bridge, moving briskly to his seat. "Ah, Counselor," he said, nodding. "You're here - good. I wanted to ask you something about our guests." "About the ambassador," she said impulsively. Picard's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "You seemed to be very surprised when the ambassador said that her granddaughter was her secretary," he said, perceptively gauging her reaction. "Why?" "Initially, because it was something I'd never seen among Talari'ians before," Deanna replied. "A non-hereditary transfer of power in their society is incredibly rare." Picard frowned. "Explain." "The current governmental system of Talar and the cultural study of emotions share a spur point - the Cho'selii Wars," she said, referring to the greatest world war in Talari'ian history. "You have to understand, Captain, that the Cho'selii Wars almost wiped out their race. Even after all this time, the Talari'ians are still decimated, due to their slow growth and maturation rates." "Because the Talari'ians are still within danger of extinction, they hold family and procreation to be a very important part of their culture," she continued. "Every important position on Talar, including the high ambassadorship, is a hereditary one, so the ambassador's granddaughter, Khessa, should be her heir." The counselor frowned. "And yet, the title of ambassadrine went to the ambassador's grand-niece, Cathara, which puzzles me. I briefly probed Khessa, and among others, the feelings I most strongly sensed were those of frustration." She folded her hands in her lap, shaking her head slightly. "I believe she was trained to be the next ambassador, and somehow - very recently - the position was taken from her." Picard nodded thoughtfully. "I can see where that would be a problem," he commented. "However, our job is to deliver the ambassador's party to Voltua, not to interfere in a familial conflict." "I know," Deanna responded. But she was still bothered by the restrained fury she had sensed from the Talari'ian. Such emotion, repressed as it was, could turn into a time bomb. "And there was something else," she added. "Khessa, very reluctantly I must say, admitted that she was an empath." "Hmm. I've heard a little about that at the academy," Riker said. "Their culture doesn't approve of extrasensory skills because of the wars they've caused, right?" Deanna nodded. "Perhaps that's why she isn't the ambassadrine," Picard commented. "It has something to do with it, I'm sure, but they wouldn't keep her from becoming a high ambassador simply because she was an empath," Deanna said decisively. "That much I know about Talari'ians - they can't afford to give up any viable members simply because of 'distasteful' talents." "Whatever problems the ambassaor has with her family is her own affair, and none of ours," the captain reminded her. "Unless the ambassador's granddaughter decides to seek counseling with you, we can't do anything more than get them to the conference on time." Chastened, Deanna nodded. But she couldn't help remembering that dying touch of emotion from the Talari'ian's mind, the stunted growth of a talent she herself took for granted. And an Old Earth phrase drifted through her mind - there but for the grace of God go I. And she shuddered. * * * * * Android and Talari'ian strolled through a windswept Normandy field, observing the programmed interaction of birds - seagulls, as Data identified them - stroking across the stormy sky. "I knew that Starfleet ships were technologically advanced, but the Holodeck is absolutely amazing," said Khessa, allowing her hand to brush against the tops of the waist-high grasses. "I would never be able to tell that we were still on board the Enterprise." "That is simple to prove," said Data. "Computer - exit." Instantly, an airlock appeared in the middle of the field. Khessa raised her eyebrows, impressed. "I see what you mean," she commented. "It does tend to spoil the illusion, though." "It does," Data agreed. "Computer - cancel." Just as instantly, the lock disappeared, repairing the image of the field. "The Holodeck is a useful tool for leisure activities, athletic training, and simulation exercises," he continued. "Members of the crew can also use it as a place of study, or for social interaction of various kinds." "Understandable," she said, stretching lazily, then wandering off through the field. "And this is an Old Earth setting..." Absently, Khessa came to a standstill, closing her eyes and lifting her chin into the breeze. "It almost feels like the Testing Fields," she murmured. "The Testing Fields?" Khessa turned, then smiled at Data, who had been watching her actions with curiosity. "It's where young Talari'ians are introduced to the Tsana Soii," she explained. Her eyes grew faraway, filling with memories. "It's one of the most wonderful places on Talar - a beautiful school in the woods where we learn about our heritage, and how to use the Soii." She smiled again, sadly, and turned away. "It was also the happiest time of my life," she murmured. "And you are no longer happy?" Glancing over her shoulder, Khessa frowned. "Does it seem that way?" "From the way you were acting in the Transporter Room, that is what I would assume," he replied. "Of course, I am not an expert in humanoid emotions. Perhaps that was your way of expressing another feeling, such as anger or resignation. But I would see it as unhappiness." "For a man who claims he isn't an expert in human emotions, you're very perceptive." "Thank you, but I am not a man," he explained. "I am an android." "Oh." She was bemused for a minute. "Then... may I ask you a personal question?" she said suddenly. "If you wish." "What kind of feelings do you have?" Flushing, Khessa laughed at the bluntness of the question. "Perhaps it's best that I'm not an ambassador." she murmured. "What I meant was - as an artificial lifeform, what kind of experiences have you had with emotion?" Data thought about her request for a moment. He had become used to questions - and occasional doubts - about his emotions, but Khessa's question carried no disbelief about his feelings, only friendly curiosity. By her own statement, she apparently considered him to be a person. In an odd way, that pleased him. "I believe my perception of emotions is much the same as yours," he said thoughtfully, "although I rarely experience the intensity and range of human response. In fact, I have been told that some of my programming is similar to the behavior patterns of a Vulcan." Khessa made a face. "I hope not," she said. "You do not like Vulcans?" he asked, curious. She shrugged, continuing her walk through the field. "I have nothing against them," she assured him. "It's just that their lifestyle is so restrictive." She shrugged again. "I've always had a difficult time understanding Vulcans," she admitted. "Perhaps a Vulcan would also have a difficult time understanding you," Data replied. To his surprise, she laughed, a brittle, unexpected sound in the air. "Oh, Data, you're wonderful," she said, with that same sharp merriness. "And you're probably right. Who would expect a Vulcan to understand a wild, emotional thing like a Talari'ian?" She laughed again. "I do not understand - was that humorous?" "Of course it was." She paused, noticing his confusion. "You mean, you didn't know?" "No." "Oh." Head cocked, she considered the golden-skinned android intently. "What do you know about humor?" she asked. Data sighed. "Not much. I would like to understand why something is considered to be amusing, but no one I have ever asked seems to understand humor very well," he said regretfully. "Since humor is related to emotion, perhaps you could explain it to me." Khessa nibbled her lip thoughtfully. "I can try, but it's a very complex subject," she said. Pushing aside a clump of grass, she sat down, and gestured for Data to do the same. "For all it's universal appeal, humor is such an integral part of each planet - each culture - that to explain each type thoroughly can be very difficult," she began. "In fact, a great Earth humorist once said, `Trying to explain humor is like dissecting a frog - it can be done, but the frog tends to die in the process.'" She frowned. "I understand the general idea of the phrase, but I suppose I would find it more amusing if I knew what a frog was." "A frog is a small, amphibious creature native to the temperate and tropical regions of Earth," Data informed her. "It was often used as a dissection subject in anatomy classes." "Oh," said Khessa. She thought about it, then laughed. "Why are you laughing?" Data said, puzzled. "Because you've explained it to me," Khessa said, pleased. "That is funny." "I still do not understand," Data said, looking pained. Biting her lower lip in a smile, Khessa considered him for a minute, then looked around at the 'field'. "Perhaps this place resembles the Fields in more than one way," she murmured. As if settling something in her mind, she turned back to Data. "How much time do you have before you have to go back on duty?" "Eleven hours, fifteen minutes, and forty-six seconds," he said promptly. Surpressing a quick grin, Khessa nodded. "Five hours, three minutes and one- half seconds should do, for a start," she said, deadpan. "Now, humanoid humor is usually based on cultural stereotypes..." Captain's Log - We are 28 hours away from Voltua, proceeding at warp seven. The cease-fire is still in effect, although Starfleet reports that it is becoming harder to maintain. The wolves are howling at the door, so to speak. The ambassador seems confident that she will be able to negotiate a permanent peace treaty between the two factions, and is in the midst of preparations for the talks. The situation between her and her granddaughter still appears to be strained, and Counselor Troi has reported no sign of future improvement. We can only hope that this matter has no bearing on the talks. "Hey, Data!" Handing a datapadd to a yeoman, Geordi jogged out of Engineering and caught up with the passing officer. "How about we play some gravball tonight? You wiped me all over the court last time, buddy - I want a chance to win back some of those points." "I'm sorry, Geordi, but I promised Khessa that I would meet her tonight," Data said pleasantly. "I would like to spend as much time with her as possible before her departure." For a moment, a hurt look flashed across the engineer's expressive face. "You know, you've been spending a lot of time with her the last three days," he said, trying not to sound reproachful. "You never told me you had something going with her, Data. If I'd known..." "Something going?" Then Data identified the term. "Ah, you mean a romantic relationship. No, we are becoming friends. She is teaching me about the use of emotion and humor in social situations." Remembering one of her lessons, the android took a pose that neatly blocked Geordi's retreat. "For instance, I learned a joke..." "Oh, please," Geordi said, starting to raise his hands. Data ignored the objection. "Why did the chicken go halfway across the road?" Defeated, Geordi threw up his hands. There would be no escape. "I don't know," he sighed. "Why?" "Because she wanted to lay it on the line." Geordi paused for a beat, then actually laughed. "Hey, that's not bad," he exclaimed. "It's not good, but it's better than usual." Before Data could respond, his communicator chittered. "Bridge to Commander Data," said the captain's voice. Immediately, the android turned serious, tapping the com insignia. "Data here." "Please locate the ambassador's secretary and bring her to the bridge. The ambassador needs to speak to her." Data's eyes widened slightly. "On my way," he replied. The lift settled to a halt, and Data and Khessa exited onto the bridge. Picard was in his customary place, flanked by Deanna and, to the Talari'ian's surprise, Ambassador Cha'asalii. Data went directly to the command center, followed by a hesitant Khessa. "Ah, you're here," the captain said. "Good." He gestured slightly at the viewscreen, which featured the nightside of a Class M planet. "Ten minutes ago, we received a distress signal from Laurite II," he stated, studying the signals being relayed to his controlboard. "Sensors indicate that a Karan convoy ship has crash-landed on the planet, and they're calling for help." "The Karans are calling for help?" Khessa exclaimed, shocked. As the officers and the ambassador turned to look at her, she flushed a deep violet. "They're - they're an incredibly proud people," she stammered under her grandmother's gaze. "For them to ask someone else for help would take a major disaster." "As the ambassador has informed us," Picard noted. "And dealing with them in a charitable case can be extremely difficult," Althea agreed. She turned to Picard. "I assume we will be stopping to help them." "Starfleet regulations require it, ambassador. However, even with the delay, we should still arrive at Voltua on time." "In that case, may I offer a suggestion?" In a regal manner, Althea gestured with her staff at her granddaughter. "My secretary has been trained in the intricacies of Karan diplomacy. It might be best if she accompanied your Away Team - she would be able to expedite matters." Picard briefly glanced at the younger Talari'ian, then turned to Riker. "Number One?" The first officer sized up Khessa. "I know something about the Karans, Captain," he said. "And the ambassador is right - we'll probably need her help if we want to contact them." "I'd be happy to help in any way I can, Captain," Khessa offered. She glanced at her grandmother, and Deanna sensed a brief thought - at least somebody needs me. Briefly, Picard considered the situation. He didn't like the idea of a civilian joining an Away Team, but reports of the ceasefire had been growing increasingly bleak. "All right," he finally said. "Get a medical team together and beam down to the planet." Riker nodded. "Data?" The officer followed Riker and Khessa to the turbolift. "Dr. Crusher, Lieutenant La Forge, please meet the Away Team at the Transporter Room with a full medical crew," he said, as the doors closed. Laurite II was a chill, rugged planet, liberally scattered with crystalline mountain ranges. On the borderline between a line of foothills and the arctic tundra, seven swirls of light materialized in a rocky depression. Immediately, Geordi, Beverly and her assistants started setting up a triage station, while Data, Riker, and Khessa set off in the direction of the cruiser's beacon. "As soon as we find the ship, let me handle the first overtures. Don't try to contact them yourselves," Khessa said seriously, as they made their way through a mazework of broken agate boulders. "Karans tend to get hostile when offered help." "I know. I've read about some of their `rescue mission' battles," Riker replied drily, pausing to scan the dark horizon for some sign of a damaged cruiser. "They can get pretty violent if they think you're insulting them." "That trait isn't restricted to the Karans, Commander," Data commented. "Much of your early Earth history is proof of that." "True, but the Karans do go to extremes." Abruptly, Riker stopped, checking his tricorder. "I don't understand it," he said, looking around the rocky surface. "We should be right on top of the cruiser..." A phaser bolt screamed through the air, slamming into a nearby rock wall. Instinctively, Riker and Data moved to flank Khessa between two boulders, drawing their phasers in the same motion. As another shot whined off the boulder, they fired in the direction of the first shot, then crouched down beside Khessa, the first officer hitting his communicator. "Enterprise, this is Riker," he barked. "We are under attack - repeat, we are under attack." "Regroup your team and prepare to beam up." "On our way." Quickly, with Data guarding their rear, they started running back to the landing site. "Is this normal for Karan behavior?" Riker huffed, trying to dodge smaller rocks. "No," replied Khessa, breathing heavily as they struggled through the maze- like rock formations. "Usually, they don't shoot until you've actually offered to help." "Wonderful," he muttered. "Then we're not dealing with Karans." "I was wondering when you'd notice that, Commander." She scrambled up to a crack in the crystalline rocks edging one side of their landing spot, and was about to squeeze through when another phaser bolt fired past, within a foot of her head. Cursing under his breath, Riker caught up to her and roughly pushed her through into the pit, then jumped after her, Data following behind. Geordi was standing guard on the other side of the opening, phaser drawn. "I heard you call the Enterprise," he said. "What's going on?" "We've been ambushed - prepare to beam up," Riker ordered. Before they could gather at the center of the clearing, however, four large humanoids rushed through the openings at the opposite side of the depression. Hooting, two of the tall, furred creatures leaped at the interns and started exchanging blows. "Chaleds," Khessa breathed, recognizing their attackers. "They're breaking treaty!" Immediately, Data jumped in front of Khessa, firing at the creatures moving towards them. Separated from the others, Dr. Crusher yanked her phaser from her belt and fired. Two bursts took the Chaleds attacking her med team by surprise, flinging them aside, but more were coming through the gaps. Unnoticed, a black-furred body crept out to an overhang, waiting for Data to back underneath. Grinning evilly, the Chaled leaped at the android, knocking him to his knees. As it reached around, brutally clawing at the android's chest, Data seemed to fold up on himself. Then, with a rapid jackknifing motion, he grasped the Chaled's arms to his chest and flipped it neatly over his shoulder. The Chaled crashed heavily to the ground. Khessa was about to move when she saw a Chaled posted on the far scree wall, a phaser rifle aimed at the kneeling android. Without thinking, she launched herself at Data. Talari'ian and energy bolt arrived almost instantaneously, with the advantage to Khessa. There was a slight odor of burning fabric as she tackled Data, knocking him completely to the ground. "Sniper," she breathed heavily, leaning over him. "Behind you." Relaxing one arm, she rolled onto her back, crushing the last of the cinders from the phaser bolt that had passed through her cloak, and tried to sit up. The lead Chaled, clad in greenish body armour, grinned savagely and hooted. "Get the ambassadrine," he ordered, waving at Khessa. "We want her alive!" Riker swore softly at the trap, now obvious. "They're after her, not us," he shouted to the others, firing at the advancing Chaleds. "Data, get her out of here!" Obediently, the android grasped the woman, pulling her into a standing position. Gazing around, he analyzed the layout of the depression. A small, jagged hole in the scree wall, almost directly behind the fight, appeared to be a cave of some sort. Within milliseconds, he determined that the narrow tunnel of a cave opening would provide a protected stance with rock at their backs, the best area to defend in the current situation. Quickly, he dragged Khessa to the opening. The Chaled leader, noticing this, started firing at the pair. As Data cleared the cave opening, the first bolt slammed into the rock surface above the cave, smashing into a large formation of neolithic agate. As the energy from the phaser blast burst through the stress patterns of the huge crystal, it began to crumble away from the cliff face. Riker, hearing the ominous rumble, turned to see the shattered formation cascade down, striking the ground with a resounding thunder. And effectively sealing off the cave entrance. Inside the cave, Data helped Khessa move deeper into the mountainside. Because of the semi-transparent properties of the crystal strata above them, enough sunlight filtered in to fill the cavern with an odd, wintery luminescence. He noticed she was biting her lip as they ran, but decided to ask her about it later, when she broke away from him and sagged against a wall. "I can't go any farther," she gasped, sliding to the floor. "I am not certain about the stability of this cave formation," Data replied, kneeling next to her. "Perhaps it would be best if we moved in farther..." She winced, and he noticed she was holding her side tightly. "Are you all right," he asked, concerned. A wry smile worked its way through the expression of pain. Slowly, she moved her hand from her side, just enough to reveal a burnt hole in her uniform. The edges of the hole were wet with blood. "I'm afraid I didn't move fast enough for that Chaled," she said, wincing again. "I will have us beamed aboard," Data said reassuringly, going to activate his communicator. Instead of warm metal, his hand found torn fabric. He gazed down at his chest, where the communicator should have been attached, then back in the direction from which they came. Dismay, in a heroic projection of emotion, was evident on his face. "You don't have your communicator, do you?" Khessa said quietly. Data shook his head. "It must have been torn off in the fight," he said, remembering how the Chaled had clawed at his chest. He stood up. "Stay here. I will examine the entrance to the cave." Retracing his steps to the cave opening, Data saw that the cave-in had filled the entrance with a huge mound of sharp-edged crystal. Experimentally, he found a flat plane on one and pushed. The crystal moved slightly, but a shower of smaller jagged rocks began to slide from the top of the pile. Data jumped back, wary of another cave-in, until the pebble slide diminished to a trickle. Carefully, he picked his way back to where Khessa was laying. "No luck?" she said, looking up from her prone position. "No. I am afraid that the boulders have fallen in such a way, that to move one would cause the entire pile to collapse," he admitted, sitting down next to her. "However, Commander Riker knew where we were going. It is not as if we were lost." "So all we have to do is wait for Starfleet to come and get us," Khessa said, smiling slightly. "As soon as they get rid of our friends out there." She closed her eyes, reviewing the attack in her mind. "Strategically, it was a brilliant plan," she said conversationally. "The Chaleds - I would assume a splinter group of some sort - must have believed that if they could take the Talari'ian ambassadrine hostage, it would keep the ambassador from reaching the peace talks on time." "Resulting in the outbreak of open warfare between the Chaleds and the Sencorians again," Data said, following her train of logic. "Yes. Unfortunately for them, their information was wrong," she said. "Which doesn't surprise me. Chaleds make magnificent warriors, but they're terrible at spying." "Ah." He remembered what the Chaled leader had shouted. "They thought that you were the ambassadrine." She nodded. "Logical, on the surface, if you know anything about Talari'ian government." Here, a slightly bitter smile crossed her face. "And my early training would've been easy to research, which is probably why they picked the Karan beacon as bait for their trap. If they had checked more closely into my background, their plan might have worked." Data noticed an unusual tone in her voice. "Why do you believe that their plan will not work now?" he asked curiously. "Because the ambassador will insist on reaching the talks on time," she explained, as if to a sweet but slightly naieve child. "Laurite II is only a few parsecs from Starbase 12. A Starfleet vessel can be summoned to rescue us, while the Enterprise continues on to Voltua. In her reasoning, a rescue ship would only take two days or so, and we could certainly survive that long without food or water." Briefly, Khessa touched her side, wincing slightly from the pain. "She couldn't have known about this," she whispered. "I do not believe that Captain Picard would allow us to be left here, even if there was another ship on the way," Data stated. "What if the fate of a planetary system depended on it?" she asked. "I don't know what your captain would do, but I know how the ambassador would react to this situation. She would never allow the life of one Talari'ian to endanger the lives of a million other beings - and I'm sure she could get Starfleet to back her up." Data considered what she had said. "If this is true, then somehow I must get both of us out of this cave," he said decisively, turning to examine the cavern walls. "A prolonged stay on the planet would not harm me in any way, but you must receive immediate medical attention." Sitting up slightly, Khessa examined the phaser burn on her lower abdomen. "I don't think it's a serious as it looks," she said, delicately probing the wound. "There's some internal bleeding, but I believe I can stop it." "How?" "Biocontrol," she answered absently, picking away her uniform from the drying blood. "Auto-induced hypnosis should speed up my metabolism sufficiently to repair the damage." "I have heard of the technique," Data said, simultaneously examining the structure of the agate walls while listening to her explanation, "as a fringe benefit of your emotional control training. I have found it to be a fascinating aspect of your biological makeup," As he said this, concern won out over curiosity. "But does that not take a great deal of your body's energy reserves?" "It is a drain," she admitted, "but I don't think I have much of a choice. Besides, while I'm in trance, you can find a way to get a message to the ship. I'm trusting you to get us out of here." Data glanced away from the crystalline structure. "I will do my best not to betray your trust," he said quietly. She smiled faintly, then closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Standing up, the android watched as her breathing grew shallow, then seemed to stop. Without his enhanced sensory systems that assured him of continued life, he would have assumed that she had just died. He turned back to the glimmering cave walls, and began to search for a way out. In the depression, the battle continued. Riker and Geordi had managed to get Dr. Crusher and the two interns safely behind a sodalite outcropping and were trying to figure out how to take the encamped Chaled snipers, when five shimmering forms appeared behind the aliens. Within seconds, the materialized forms of Worf and four security officers had evaluated the scene. With a roar, the Security Chief charged directly into the fray, taking the Chaled leader by surprise by ripping a phaserifle out of the furry creature's hands, neatly swinging him into a rock wall. Seeing their commander down, the remaining aliens roared in infuriated blood lust, the rage robbing them of any coordination in their fighting. It was fairly simple for the Security team to outmaneuver and surround the Chaleds, finally disarming the last fighter. Once the Chaleds had been secured, the first officer tapped his com insignia, still disgusted at himself for falling into a trap. "Riker to Enterprise," he snapped. "Enterprise here," said Picard. "Report." "We were ambushed by Chaleds," Riker said, scanning the translucent cliff wall where the cave-in had happened. "We were able to capture them, but not before Data and the ambassador's granddaughter were driven into one of the local cave systems. I think they've been trapped by a cave-in." "Damn," Picard swore softly, glancing over at the ambassador. Her face was expressionless as always. "All right, Number One. We'll locate their position from up here. Get over to the cave, see if there's any other way in." "I'm afraid you may have a problem locating them, Enterprise," Riker said, his eye caught by a bit of gold on the ground. With a feeling of apprehension, he bent over and picked up the piece of metal, his suspicions confirmed. It was a communicator. Data had examined the cave walls as well as he could without the proper equipment, his positronic senses working to make up for that lack. Apart from their original entrance, the walls appeared to be made of a heavily stress fractured agate. It was possible that he could blast an opening through the cave wall with a phaser, but after studying the stress lines in the crystal, Data realized that he'd pull the entire cliff down on them as well. Disheartened, he went back to the motionless Talari'ian, and was surprised to see her eyes open. "I thought you were in a trance," he said, sitting down beside her. "It isn't working," Khessa said, her voice making soft echoes. "The damage went deeper than I thought." Careful not to move too quickly, she placed both hands over the wound in her side, applying gentle pressure. "I'm afraid I'm going to need a healer." "We will have to get back to the ship first." "Which doesn't look like it's going to happen soon." She sighed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Have you figured a way out of here?" "Not yet," Data admitted. "If I tried to burn through the walls..." "The shock would shatter the entire hill..." she continued. "I was afraid of that. Oh, well," and her smile was almost serene, "it doesn't matter. One more death won't even make the history books." The bleak statement shocked even Data. "You should not say that," he remonstrated. "I am sure the Enterprise will reach us in time..." "They won't," Khessa interrupted. "And why shouldn't I say what's true? It doesn't really matter if I die." "It would matter to me," he said, remembering what she had taught him about emotional responses to put some feeling into his tone. "I do not want to see you die." "That's very kind of you, Data," she said colorlessly. "But you're probably the only one who feels that way." She fell silent. "The ambassador..." he started to say. "The ambassador does not care," Khessa said tonelessly. "I have failed her, I have failed my family, and that is all that matters." Her voice was soft, but the words were enunciated and cold as she glanced at Data. "You're not Talari'ian - you can't understand," she said. "I am Althea Cha'asalii's granddaughter, and until last year, I was her heir and her attache. I was trained in every skill a future ambassador would need, every kind of emotional control that could be taught. I learned intricacies of diplomacy, levels of argument and finesse that would make a Vulcan scream in frustration. And then, last year, it was taken away from me." She turned her head, unable to face him or the next part, her shame was still so great. "I had my mid-year physical examination," she finally murmured. "I still remember the day, the way the sun seemed to freeze when the healer came into my room. The look on his face when he said I carried choala." "Choala?" "A remnant from our past," she said. "From biological warfare. Only one in three hundred thousand children carry the gene," she tried to take a deep breath, coughing a bit from her injury, "a gene that effectively increases their latent empathic talents to full strength. And renders them infertile." Infertile, in a society so decimated that reproduction of the species was of the highest importance. Suddenly, Data understood. "You cannot carry on your line," he exclaimed softly. Khessa nodded. "And so I was stripped of my title, my position, and my future," she breathed. "Everything was given to my cousin," and here, her voice turned bitter, "a pleasant girl who wouldn't know how to handle a crisis situation if the Four Suns depended on it. And I became the ambassador's secretary, forced to watch Cathara take over what had been my life." Her face became bleak - not the emotionless mask she affected around the ambassador, but a painful expression of hopelessness. "Are you so surprised, then, that I would welcome death? It is the only freedom I will ever have." "I am sorry," Data said softly, not knowing what to do. Wearily, Khessa closed her eyes, withdrawn. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry," she said. "You didn't need to hear that. My malfunctioning body isn't your fault." For the first time in his existence, Data sensed that the next words he spoke could literally cause a life-or-death situation. "It seems to me," he said with care, considering her reaction to his words, "that you have been excluded from your society unfairly. You are a worthwhile person, and this death wish on your part is illogical." With some hesitation, he laid a hand over hers. "Perhaps you feel now that you have no place in your family or your society," he continued, seriously. "I know what that is like - not to belong." "How?" she murmured, not looking at him. "How could you know something like that? You said yourself that you don't have a strong emotional response." "Not belonging does not require a strong emotional response. It simply requires observation," he explained. "I, for example, am an android, a mechanic lifeform among organics. When I first entered Starfleet Academy, there was a question of whether I should even be allowed to attend, because of my artificial components." The arguments of Starfleet officers played through his memory banks, their words still sharp. "I understood, then, what it was like not to fit in," he said, momentarily lost in old memories, "and that discomfort has always remained." Almost against her will, Khessa began to show some interest. "How did you stand it?" she murmured. "It was very difficult for me at first," he said. "But I was fortunate in that I was discovered by a Starfleet captain who believed in my sentience, as well as my sapience. Captain Gorden never treated me as anything but a living creature. Because of that, I eventually discovered that other officers in Starfleet felt the same way, including Captain Picard and Commander Riker. Slowly, I found people with whom I belonged." "Yes, but you have an entire galaxy to choose from," Khessa argued, her voice slowly weakening. "I have only one planet, and every Talari'ian can tell what I am." She touched the simple spade-shaped pendant at the base of her throat. Data noticed that it was different from the pendants of the other Talari'ians, with no external decoration. "They all know that I'm tainted. Not a single Talari'ian would want me to belong." "Have you considered leaving Talar?" "Never." But there had been a catch in her voice, an uncertainty. "Even if I leave, what is there for me out in the galaxy? A dishonored ambassadrine, even one with a touch of empathic talent, couldn't be in high demand." "You could enlist in Starfleet's diplomatic corps." That drew a slight giggle. "Granddam would have a fit," Khessa said sleepily. As Data watched in alarm, her eyelids began to flutter shut. "She might even have to work with me, someday..." "Khessa?" She had fallen unconscious. In the bridge's ready room, Picard and the ambassador faced the Chaled leader, with Riker, Deanna, the ambassador's attach and a complement of Security officers in attendance. "What was your intention in attacking the ambassador's secretary?" the captain asked, his tone calculated to carry a quiet menace. The Chaled's eye membranes widened. "Her secretary?" he gurgled harshly. "We thought she was the ambassadrine." As he spoke, however, a crude soft of satisfaction entered his voice. "It no longer matters," he rumbled, scratching at his side. "The wench and your errand boy are trapped down there, and you can't leave without them." The Chaled jerked his head in the direction of the ambassador. "And that means that you will not make the talks, my dear ambassador," he said smugly. "You and your Federation mercenaries won't be able to control my people any more." The delicate woman drew her steepled hands together underneath her chin. "So that was your plan," she said softly, her entire attitude radiating disdain. "Somewhat slapdash, but effective. It might actually have worked, if we were to wait for the crew members to be rescued. But unfortunately for you, we will continue on to Voltua." Deanna was startled by this display of callousness on the ambassador's part, and sensed a rising anger from the captain. He was perfectly controlled, however, as he said, "I haven't given that order, Ambassador, and I won't give it until I am sure that all of my crew members are safe." The ambassador shook her head calmly. "Your own sensors tell you that they are alive," she argued. "Starbase 12 is within hailing distance, and another ship can easily be sent to rescue them. I know my secretary can survive for that short period of time, and I am sure that a Starfleet-trained officer can do the same." Picard was reluctant to argue with a Federation ambassador in front of a hostile party, but her subtle arrogance was beginning to wear on him. "Even so, the safety and well-being of my officer is my responsibility," he responded, keeping his voice low. "As the safety and well-being of your granddaughter is yours." "Please." Althea raised a single, silencing hand. "You needn't mention our relationship. That sad consanguinity is never far from my mind." "You must have no concern for your granddaughter," Deanna burst out. "According to Dr. Crusher, traces of blood were found near the site of the cave-in, and you've been alerted to this fact. There is a strong possibility that she may be injured. Doesn't that matter to you at all?" A barely perceptible shudder passed through the Talari'ian, before she lifted icy violet eyes to stare at the Counselor. "I am a high ambassador," she said slowly. "My responsibility at this moment is to negotiate a peace treaty between two worlds that have waged a bloody, system-wide battle for years. Countless lives have been sacrificed to bring me to this point, and I refuse to turn away from my duty simply because my secretary may have accidentally injured herself. As to your comment about my concern as a granddam, I find that I must separate myself from personal concerns in this sort of situation." Ceremoniously, she rose from the table. "Captain Picard, I must demand that we leave at once for Voltua," she said, still perfectly calm. "If we are not underway in one hour, I will be forced to bring formal charges against you for obstructing me in a Federation-sponsored diplomatic mission." And with that, she departed, followed by her attach and the guarded Chaled. "Damnable woman," Picard said to himself, before directing his attention to Deanna. "You said that there were traces of blood at the cave-in site?" "Correct, and I'm picking up a very weak sense of distress from the planet," Deanna confirmed. "As Data uses a chemical nutrient system, we have to assume that it was Khessa who was injured in the fight. How seriously, I don't know." "Even if she was in perfect health, I wouldn't like the idea of leaving anyone trapped in a cave for two days," Picard said dryly. "On the other hand, the ambassador does have a point. The cease-fire shows signs of weakening, and I've been receiving directives from Starfleet Command to get her there immediately, leaving me between the proverbial rock and the hard place." "So what do we do now?" Deanna wondered. "The ambassador gave us one hour," Picard said, punching up planet coordinates on the tabletop computer. "Let's see if we can't come up with a way to see through solid rock." While the captain consulted with his officers, Geordi huddled with an ensign at the science station, examining a sensor map of the planet's surface. "The way those caves are honeycombed, they could be anywhere," Geordi said in frustration. "I don't know what's in that strata, but it's playing havoc with the bioreadout sensors. There's no way we can pinpoint their exact location without Data's communicator." Ensign Christie Tau concentrated on computer graphics of the planetary seismographic activity. "What we need is a nonorganic focusing point, something either the commander or Khessa would have on them that isn't indigenous to the planet," she mused. "Non-metallic minerals are out," Geordi said. "The whole surface is studded with every crystalline element you can think of. And Data doesn't have enough solid metal in him to act as a homing point." "What about Khessa? Was she wearing any jewelery?" Tau asked. Geordi frowned. "Data never really introduced me to the lady," he said. "But I seem to remember her wearing some kind of necklace, with a pendant..." "It's a rank icon," said a voice behind them. They turned to see Cathara, hovering shyly near the deck railing. She came closer, fascinated with the computerized graphics map. "They're made from silver and collonium," she added. "I think collonium is mined only in our quadrant." "Let's try it," Geordi muttered, requesting metallics information. The answer flashed onto the screen. "Bingo! Collonium isn't indigenous to Laurite." "Which means that all we have to do is get a analysis of a pendant, then search for a match in the cave area," Tau said. "We should be able to track Data and Khessa just like we tracked the colonists on Angel One." "Let's get to work," Geordi said. Cathara unhooked the heavy pendant hanging around her own throat and handed it over to the Chief Engineer for spectrum analysis. * * * * * Data kept watch over the still form, carefully listening for every breath. He remembered Tasha's death, the sense of helplessness he experienced after her memorial. And if those breaths stopped, he asked himself, what then? The same feeling - for it was a feeling, one of the few quasi-emotional experiences he had ever experienced - would come again. I do not want to see another person die, he realized. There was a small amount of medical information in his memory banks, enough to help a mildly injured colleague through an emergency, but Khessa's phaser burn was beyond his abilities to treat. It was a long five minutes before she struggled back to consciousness again. "I must've fainted," she said, lifting heavy eyelids. "Blood loss. It won't be long, now." "You should not say that," Data insisted. "Why not? It's true. But I'm sorry that you have to watch this, Data," she said, her voice soft with dreamy regret. "You've been very kind to me the last few days. I'd prefer to leave you with a happy memory, if I could." "I would prefer you not to leave at all," he replied. He trusted Geordi, knew the Enterprise's sensors would eventually be able to locate them. But they might not be able to reach us in time, he thought, and Khessa was almost gone. "There are still many things for you to see, Khessa, many experiences to have." "Starfleet Academy," she said with a wan smile. "The rest of the galaxy, and a place where I could belong." "Yes," he said, insistent. "All those things, and more. You must hold on until we are rescued." "Why?" Khessa muttered dully. "I still wouldn't belong - not where it mattered. She wouldn't care." "The ambassador?" He wished that he understood her pain, in order to better reply. "No matter how she may act towards you now, you are still a member of her family. And she does care - she must." Data was about to say more when her pendant begin to shimmer, the glow spreading to encase both of them. Finally, he thought, mildly surprised at his own impatience. The shimmering intensified, until the cave faded from view, and the Transporter Room solidified around them. The medical team, headed by a businesslike Dr. Crusher, closed in, pushing him gently to one side while they focused on Khessa. Over Crusher's shoulder, Data spotted the captain and Ambassador Cha'asalii, looking on. Somehow, Khessa managed to struggle to her elbows. "I'm sorry, ambassador," she cried in a choked voice. "I'm sure this comes as much as a shock to you as it does to me. Freedom didn't come soon enough for either of us." As she sagged back to the transporter grid, already unconscious, Data watched the ambassador's face lose its marble aspect, becoming all too lifelike from grief. The nacelles flared briefly and the Enterprise left orbit, its course laid in towards Voltua. Once they were underway, Picard headed down to Sickbay. Crusher's report made it clear that the Talari'ian woman would survive, but he thought it would be a good idea to visit the ambassador, who was keeping an unexpected vigil at her granddaughter's side. As he entered Sickbay, he was struck again by the pale regality of the ambassador, all arrogance lost in sorrow. Even those who must keep themselves separate can mourn, he thought. She heard his step at the door, turning her head slightly to acknowledge him. "You come at an ideal time, Captain," she said, the music in her voice now a dirge. "Perhaps you can distract me from my guilt." He took a seat next to her, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "How is your secretary?" he asked. The ambassador straightened, looking him squarely in the eye for the first time since he'd entered the room. "My granddaughter," she said, a trace of pride in her voice, "is out of danger. Your healer has taken excellent care of her. I am forever in your debt." She paused. "And in the debt of your Mr. Data," she added, in a lower tone. "How so?" Picard asked, although he had already been briefed by the android. "He told me what Khessa had said in the cave, how she has felt spurned by me in favor of Cathara." The old woman sighed, shaking her head. "For the last year, I admit, I have concentrated on my own frustration and anger at having such potential ripped from my family," she said, an ageless pain settling over her. "I couldn't bring myself to consider what it did to her. When the healers told me that Khessa carried choala, my mind almost consumed itself in its fury. How could my granddaughter, the strength of my old age, of my entire family..." She faltered, not wanting to speak the words, "...be sterile? Unable to bear heirs, never to carry on the family name, a pariah forever on Talar." "So you removed her from her position," Picard said, the last piece of the puzzle slipping into place. "I did more than that," she flared. "I stripped her of her title, of her rank, everything that reminded me of the future that could have been. I was furious at her for betraying me this way, Captain, a fury that I hope you'll never know, because it isolates you from the things you love." Trembling from emotion, Althea bowed her head. "I have been a proud, foolish woman," she murmured bitterly, "and now, because of that pride, I may never be able to hold my granddaughter's love close to me again." This sort of counselling was a task best left to Deanna, Picard thought, weighing his next words. "Perhaps, if you tell her this, she'll understand," he suggested. "Why?" she whispered. "Would she care?" "Odd. That is exactly what she said about you." Both of them turned to see Data standing in the doorway. "Excuse me for intruding, but I believe that I have information that you would find valuable. I may be incorrect, but it seems that your current relationship with your granddaughter is largely due to a lack of communication on both your parts," he continued, taking a seat next to the ambassador. "It is difficult for me to recognize love, even in the best of circumstances, but I do believe that your granddaughter loves you. She simply assumes that you do not love her back." As Data spoke, his golden eyes caught the light. "I am sure that you can correct this assumption, if you wish to." Althea stared mutely at him for a moment. "From the mouths of babes," she said, finally. Dr. Crusher poked her auburn head into the waiting room. "Ambassador, Khessa's awake now," she reported. "I told her you were out here, waiting. She said she'd like to speak with you, if you have the time." Picard nodded. "Go to her," he urged. She nodded, and stood up, still hesitant. It would be difficult to heal the breach made in the last year, but it was up to her to make the first attempt. "If you gentlemen will excuse me," she said, "I believe I have to have a long talk with my granddaughter." Two days later, the Enterprise was in orbit around Voltua, and the ambassadorial party was preparing to disembark. Following behind the captain and Data, Deanna was happy to see Khessa, now on her feet, close to the side of the ambassador. While she could never reattain her former position, Deanna sensed, Khessa was secure in the knowledge that she would always have a place in her grandmother's heart. In the family-oriented society of Talar, that meant the world. "Traveling with your ship has been quite an experience, Captain Picard," Althea said, her face crinkling into a regal smile. "I may never be able to thank you enough for what you have done." "A workable peace treaty would be thanks enough, Ambassador," Picard said gruffly, hiding his pleasure at Althea's comment. "That will be my pleasure, as well as my duty," she commented firmly. As the ambassador and Picard exchanged goodbyes, Khessa fell behind, signalling Data to follow her to an alcove down the hall. Curious, he complied. Once they were alone, she said, "I simply didn't want to do this in front of everyone," in response to his interested look. With a brief movement, she touched the silver bracelet encircling her wrist, snapping off the central ornament, a star surrounded by four suns. After a moment of thought, she offered it to Data. "I would like you to have this," she said, almost shyly. Data recognized the artifact. "This is your betrothal charm," he said, at a loss for words. "But..." "No! I mean, I'm not asking that," she interrupted, blushing slowly. "I will never be allowed to marry because of the choala. However, in my case, I would be allowed to give it as a gesture of friendship. I want you to have it..." she gazed down for a moment, quiet, then looked back to him... "as a reminder of me, of what you taught me about belonging. And for being my friend." Data looked at the silver charm, then at the Talari'ian. "I am honored," he said simply. She nodded, and took his left hand opening it. The charm dangled in the air for a second, then was placed in his palm as she intoned, "Kha chai, kha alii." "'For now, for always,'" he said, automatically translating the ancient Talar friendship vow. "Khessa," called the ambassador. "We're waiting." "Coming, Granddam," she called. Quickly, she closed Data's hand over the charm, hiding it from view. "I won't say goodbye to you, Data - only farewell," she murmured, giving his hand a quick squeeze and staring back down the hall. "Khessa?" She turned back. "Yes?" "From my observation of social interaction in humans, I have noticed that there is another way for two beings who are friends to say farewell," Data said. Khessa expectantly stepped closer. Mimicking the way he had seen it done before, Data leaned over and kissed her. He pulled back, seeing her look of utter surprise. "Was that correct?" The surprised struggled with another emotion on her face. Perhaps, he thought, the beginning of trust. "Data, that was wonderful," she said softly. "Goodness. You learned something." "Khessa!" The ambassador's voice carried good-humored impatience. She glanced at Data one last time, then laughed, the first truly happy sound he had heard her make since she boarded, and ran back down the hall. Two hours later, the Enterprise was underway. Before he got to the bridge, Data had been cornered by Geordi in the turboshaft. "So, what's this I hear about your Talari'ian?" he demanded. "One of the transporter engineers told me that she informed the ambassador she was applying to Starfleet Academy's Diplomatic Division - right on the transporter grid." "Really," Data said, interested. "How did Ambassador Cha'asalii take the news?" "Like she'd just bitten into a lemon. Complete and utter shock. I don't know what happened between you two, but it must have made one heck of an impression." "As I told you before, nothing happened," Data said innocently. The hidden weight in his uniform pocket seemed to burn, a warm and bright feeling. "We are simply friends." "Friends. Yeah, right." ------------------------------------------------------------------- Commentary, flames, or out-and-out insults (as long as they are creative) are welcome. Please send email to: kmrc@midway.uchicago.edu. Melanie