More Rollercoaster
Dec. 20th, 2008 11:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
r_scribblesSet during Unification. Part 2 will be up tomorrow.
ROLLERCOASTER
-x-
Generation Gap
-x-
‘How does she do that?’
‘Sir…?’
‘How can she just… nod off? Just like that?’
Data paused. ‘Are you referring to Commander Yar?’
‘Who else?’ Picard whispered in reply. He shifted uncomfortably to a sitting position on the cold slab of metal that the Klingons laughably referred to as a “bed”, and watched the woman curled up on the floor in the corner silently. In spite of the extreme discomfort of the cramped cabin, Tasha had smiled, yawned, bid the others a good night, then bunched herself up in a tight, foetal knot on the rough floor before Picard had had chance to offer her the “bunk” and now, mere minutes later, seemed to be blissfully, soundly asleep.
‘I believe it is because she feels secure at present.’
‘Secure?’ Picard echoed. ‘On a Klingon vessel in Romulan territory, about to embark on an undercover mission…?’
Data offered him a vague approximation of a shrug. ‘She does not sleep easily on away missions when she feels that there is the possibility of sudden attack. Otherwise, she is capable of falling asleep in surroundings too uncomfortable for most humans to rest in.’
Picard squinted at the snoozing woman. She appeared to be using her shoes as a pillow. ‘A habit learned from her childhood on Turkana IV?’ He whispered.
‘I believe so,’ Data replied. ‘And there is no need for you to lower your voice. Unless one physically agitates her during her slumber, she is particularly difficult to rouse.’
Picard smiled a little. ‘Data, do you actually have files on how to best wake all your fellow officers up?’
‘No, Sir.’
‘Then how...’ Picard trailed off, reminding himself, a little too late, how it was that Data knew so much about Tasha’s sleeping habits. He looked down at his knees and cleared his throat. ‘I do beg your pardon. That’s none of my business’
‘I am not offended, Sir.’
‘Good.’
There was a long pause. Picard looked across at his hard mortuary table of a bed. It wasn’t starting to look any more enticing.
‘Sir…’
Picard looked back up at the awkwardly standing android. ‘Yes, Data?’
‘If you do not mind my asking, Sir…’ Data frowned a little. ‘It has not yet been made clear to me why it is that Commander Yar has been selected for this mission.’
‘Apart from her being the finest security and tactical officer I’ve ever had the pleasure of serving with, you mean…?’
‘I am capable of offering you more than adequate physical protection alone, Sir.’
‘Data…’ It was Picard’s turn to frown. ‘We’ve found ourselves in the curious position of having amongst us an officer who is capable of perfectly imitating a high ranking Romulan – somebody capable of opening a few doors.’ Picard paused for breath before remembering to add ‘figuratively speaking, that is. Should we require fast, easy access to certain restricted areas of Romulus - perhaps even the Senate itself – it may well prove invaluable to have with us the presence of our own “Commander Sela”.’ He paused again, thinking. ‘Data, you’ve already been briefed on all of this. What exactly is the issue here?’
‘One version of Tasha has already lived as a captive concubine for many years on Romulus,’ Data reminded Picard, ‘and has already been killed.’
‘I am aware of that, Mister Data, and if there was anything I could do to change that…’
‘Captain…’ The android cocked his head at Picard slightly. ‘What would you hypothesise would become of Tasha in the event of an encounter with the real Commander Sela?’
Picard pressed his lips together tightly. ‘Well… I’m certain that…’
‘I’d handle it,’ muttered a voice from the corner.
Picard blinked. ‘Tasha. I’m sorry – did we wake you?’
‘Not as such,’ mumbled the foetal woman. ‘Guess I’m not as sound a sleeper as you reckoned, Data.’
Data and Picard exchanged glances.
‘My apologies, Tasha.’
Tasha grunted and rearranged the shoes under her head. ‘Don’t sweat it.’
‘I do not sweat.’
‘Data,’ replied Tasha, ‘do me a favour, would you?’
‘What is it?’
‘Shut up.’
Picard smiled at Data’s perplexed expression.
There was a brief silence before the android spoke again. ‘For how long do you wish me to “shut up”, Tasha?’
But there was no reply except for the young woman’s soft, content snoring.
-x-
Tasha looked in the mirror and sighed. She brushed a finger over one of her pointed prosthetic ears, then down her thick, straight Romulan fringe. She tried setting her face into Sela’s trademark contemptuous scowl. She sighed again.
She heard a faint growl from behind her and turned her head slightly. The Klingon lingering in the doorway wore an expression as though he’d just stepped in something disgusting.
‘Repulsive,’ he muttered.
‘You’ve got a point,’ Tasha agreed quietly, glancing back at the mirror.
‘Human females are hideous enough,’ grunted the Klingon, ‘but to make yourself appear Romulan…’
‘You know,’ Tasha added, ‘it’s very rude to intrude on a lady when she’s getting changed.’
The Klingon sneered. ‘Your friends are waiting for you. You will make quite the trio, looking as you do.’
‘Great.’ Tasha smiled brightly at him as she sprang to her feet. It appeared to unsettle the Klingon a little, and he stood back to allow her to pass without further comment. She rounded a corner and almost walked straight into a rather surprised looking Romulan.
‘Oh!’ She exclaimed, then blinked. She felt a wide grin of amusement pull at her lips as the altered features suddenly became recognisable. ‘Sir! Is that really you?’
A green-tinged Jean Luc Picard offered her a very un-Romulan smile. ‘I take it from your initial surprise that my disguise is convincing.’
‘Just remember to maintain a sourpuss expression throughout and I’m certain you can pass for Romulan.’
Picard nodded. ‘Thank you, Commander. And, may I add…’ He trailed off, frowning at Tasha’s expression. ‘Is there something the matter…?’
‘Sorry.’ Tasha tried her best to look as serious as possible. ‘It’s just… you have hair, Sir.’
Picard smoothed down his own thick black fringe, irritably. ‘Yes. It feels very odd.’
Tasha folded her arms, playfully. ‘I’m sure you’ll get used to it.’
The Captain arched an eyebrow at her ‘I intend not to.’
Tasha grinned again. As vital and treacherous as she knew her upcoming mission was, she had to admit to herself – this was fun. She just couldn’t wait to see what Data looked like…
On cue, the universe’s stiffest, most angular Romulan stepped awkwardly from a doorway to join the pair and tilted his head slightly at Tasha like a clockwork sparrow.
‘The resemblance to Commander Sela is indeed remarkable…’
Data was cut off as Tasha burst into a fit of giggles.
‘However,’ he continued in the same placid tones as ever, ‘I do not believe that she is prone to such hysteria. You should do well not to laugh when we are on Romulus.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Tasha laughed, ‘but you as a Romulan… it’s just not right.’
Data checked his prosthetic ears and forehead with his fingertips. ‘Is there something amiss with my makeup?’
‘You’re just… you. You’re just Data, dressed as a Romulan.’
Data blinked bewildered. ‘That is correct. I do not understand…’
‘I think what Tasha is trying to say,’ interjected Picard, ‘is that you don’t seem to have the movements quite correct for a Romulan yet. Or the speech patterns.’
‘I am aware of that, Sir. And I am striving to correct those issues…’
Picard nodded at the android. ‘That’s good.’
‘Just as,’ Data continued, ‘I have been attempting to make my physical movements and speech patterns more human in the years since my reactivation.’
‘Right,’ nodded Picard, his expression not cracking. ‘Data, you’d probably better allow me to do most of the talking once we’re down there.’
‘That may be a wise strategy, Sir,’ agreed Data. He blinked again at Tasha, who was still biting down the last of her giggles. ‘You appear to be in a particularly jocular mood, Commander, considering the severity of our mission.’
Tasha wiped her eyes. ‘I’m just making the most of being able to laugh while I still can. I’m not expecting to smile much when I’m acting as Sela.’
‘Well, I shouldn’t worry about that quite yet, Commander Yar,’ Picard told her. ‘Commander Data and I will be making the initial enquiries.’
Tasha’s face fell. ‘I know, I know,’ she sighed. ‘I’m your “secret weapon”, and I can’t exactly stay secret for very long once I’m on Romulus. I just… I get ants in my pants when I’m this close to an important away mission… and before you ask, Data, no, my pants don’t literally have insects in them.’
‘I am aware of that,’ Data nodded. ‘The term was a colloquialism, with the meaning that you are impatient to proceed with the plan, was it not?’ Data didn’t give Tasha the opportunity to reply. ‘However, I must remind you that, should our mission continue to our ideal expectations, we will not require you to transfer to the surface at all.’
Tasha nodded. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
‘As I have just stated, that would be the ideal situation.’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You’re still worried about me, aren’t you?’
‘I am incapable of worry…’
‘Sela got you spooked,’ Tasha interrupted. ‘Didn’t she? Or at least, the story of her mother did. You think I might get captured down there. You think history’s somehow going to repeat itself…’
‘We all risk capture,’ Picard interceded. ‘You are not at any greater risk than the rest of us. If I thought that you might be, you would never be on this mission.’
‘I’m not going to be captured,’ Tasha informed them, plainly. ‘They might have got the other Tasha, but those sons of bitches aren’t gonna get me.’
‘It is possible…’ began Data.
‘No, it isn’t,’ snapped Tasha.
‘If you…’
‘It is not going to happen, Data!’
‘That’s it!’ announced Picard with a sudden enthusiasm.
‘What?’
The disguised captain pointed at her face. ‘That’s the right expression for a Romulan.’ He turned his attention to the strange frown on the android’s features. ‘You too, Data. Well done.’
-x-
‘Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-t… dammit.’
Tasha got up, picked up the balled pair of socks, then sat back against the cabin wall, closed her eyes and started again.
‘The latrines are full of Tribbles, the computer’s gone berserk…’
-x-
Data gave Picard and his guest a brief nod of acknowledgement as they approached, and swiftly went back to his work at the Klingon computer banks.
Picard smothered a smile at the manner in which Ambassador Spock took in his surroundings. The dignified Vulcan’s movements were far more fluid, far more ponderous than the android’s faintly birdlike actions, but there was something about the way that Spock looked about himself – something about his air of detached, cerebral fascination – that was heavily reminiscent of Data.
‘Your Klingon hosts appear to be absent,’ noted the Ambassador.
‘They did not wish to remain in this part of the ship,’ Data explained without looking up from the computer, ‘on account of the singing.’
‘Thirty,’ chanted Tasha’s voice from the next chamber. ‘Thirty-one. Thirty-two. Thirty-three. Thir… drat.’
‘She has been singing drinking songs popular at Starfleet Academy for three hours, twelve minutes and fifteen seconds, at an average level of 72 decibels,’ added Data. ‘It appears that she is… bored, Sir,’
Spock cocked an eyebrow.
‘The secret weapon that I mentioned earlier,’ Picard elaborated, ‘who unfortunately has been forced to spend the entirety of this mission so far confined to the ship, thinking up ways of entertaining herself… which appear to have revolved largely around annoying the Klingon crew.’
‘Hmm,’ replied Spock.
Picard blinked. Was that a note of amusement in the Ambassador’s voice? He followed the Vulcan as he quietly approached the open door to the cabin from which the chanting issued.
Tasha was sitting against the wall with her eyes shut tight. She had removed her socks and fashioned them into a makeshift ball, which she threw rhythmically into the air and caught again as she chanted. It was a pretty basic drinking game that Picard recalled from his Academy days – not exactly fun if you were alone and sober, but it passed the time. The words of the chant differed slightly from year to year, as was the way with oral traditions. Picard bit his lip as Tasha picked the dropped ball of socks from her lap and prepared to start from the beginning. He sincerely hoped that, considering the company they had at the time, the words that Tasha was used to wouldn’t bear any resemblance to those that he used to sing.
But, of course, they did.
‘The latrine is full of Tribbles, the computer’s gone berserk,’ chanted Tasha, still throwing and catching the “ball” with screwed up eyes. ‘How many girls have lost their bra to James T. Kirk? One. Two. Three. Four. Five…’
‘I suspect that you will have to throw your ball for some time,’ announced Spock suddenly, ‘if you wish to attain anything close to an accurate number.’
‘Shit!’ Tasha dropped the ball and sprang to her feet, mortified.
‘Besides which,’ Spock continued, ‘as I recall, the song usually refers to female hearts lost, rather than undergarments.’
Tasha began hastily pulling on her socks. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any offence, Ambassador…’
‘The song was not about me,’ the Vulcan replied with a faint shrug. ‘And if you believe that it is offensive to Admiral Kirk’s memory for attractive young women to sing in celebration of his sexual prowess, then perhaps you know something about my old friend that I do not.’
‘Um,’ muttered Tasha, before changing tack, brightly. ‘Embarrassing first impressions aside, Sir, may I say what a pleasure it is to finally meet you.’
Picard smiled again at the sight of the young woman, still fully made up as Sela, as she held out her hand to shake, then quickly changed her mind and started to attempt a Vulcan salute, leaving Spock with his arm outstretched to return her handshake. Tasha blinked, gathered herself and finally grabbed the Vulcan’s hand with both of hers and pumped it enthusiastically.
‘I never had any role models growing up as I did,’ Tasha explained, ‘but hearing about the things you guys on the original Enterprise achieved, the adventures you had… you were the first heroes I ever had. You were inspirational to me, and… and you must think I’m a complete idiot.’
‘On the contrary,’ Spock replied, ‘I have found both your Captain and your android friend to be highly logical people. I do not believe that they would have displayed the confidence and pride in you that they have when discussing you, were you in any way idiotic. However,’ he added, a little conspiratorially, ‘it may be prudent for you to stop shaking my hand now.’
Tasha released his hand swiftly with a sheepish smile.
‘If you don’t mind,’ added Spock, ‘I offered to assist your Mister Data.’
The Vulcan turned back into the other cabin to join the android at the computer bank. Tasha covered her eyes with a sigh.
‘Are you all right, Commander?’
‘A little flustered,’ Tasha replied, ‘a little mortified.’ She smiled tightly at her Captain. ‘I’ll live.’
‘I’m sorry we startled you,’ Picard told her. ‘However, you may be pleased to know that it appears you won’t be twiddling your thumbs here for much longer.’
Tasha’s eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. ‘You need me to go down there?’
‘We need some information on a member of the Senate – Proconsul Neral. We have some suspicions as to his motives.’
Tasha nodded. ‘I’ll speak with him.’
‘There might be a more effective means of gathering information,’ Picard replied, ‘providing Data is able to unlock the access codes to the Romulan computer system. I would imagine there would be a wealth of invaluable information in Sela’s office – and not just on Neral. All you’d have to do would be to walk in as Sela and sit at her desk.’
Tasha folded her arms with a grin. ‘I never signed up for any desk job, Captain.’
Picard genially patted his Security Officer on the shoulder. ‘I’m certain that there will be plenty there to keep you suitably stimulated.’
-x-
Get in, get what you need, get out again. Be speedy, be inconspicuous. don’t let them find out what you’ve pulled until they’re eating your dust.
Tasha clicked swiftly through the hall; her boxy shoulders making her feel twice her usual width.
March, she reminded herself internally, don’t walk. Scowl, don’t smile. You are Sela – angry, arrogant Sela. Everybody you see is beneath you. You are…
‘Commander Sela!’
She blinked slightly as the junior officer hurried towards her.
‘Yes?’ She grunted.
‘We were not expecting you back for hours,’ the officer worried, ‘and certainly not alone.’
Oh, crap.
She turned an acid gaze onto the young Romulan. ‘Are you questioning me?’
The officer balked. ‘I would not dream of it, Commander…’
‘Then why are you still bothering me?’
‘I just…’ The Romulan faltered. ‘Has there been a change of plan…?’
Tasha reached the door, which according to the information Data had pulled up, would hopefully lead to Sela’s office. She stopped and turned to the young Romulan. ‘When I wish to provide you with new information, I shall do so of my own accord. Not before. Do you understand?’
The Romulan bowed his head. ‘Yes, Commander.’
Tasha turned back to the door, biting down a smirk. The door opened smoothly to reveal a Spartan office. A desk, a couple of computer terminals… that was pretty much it. She quickly made her way over to the desk and typed in the access codes she had been given. She beamed as the console suddenly filled up with neat lines of information files.
Thank you, Data.
It didn’t take her long to locate information concerning Neral. Picard’s suspicions had been correct, it seemed. Neral and Sela had been working together to locate and infiltrate the underground Reunification movement.
You bitch.
She was about to look further into more detailed files when something else on the console caught her eye. She frowned and accessed the file labelled ‘Yar’.
She sat back, exhaling slowly as the screen filled with information about her own life. Somebody, it seemed, had been very busy indeed gathering as many details as they could, no matter how personal. From what Tasha could tell, the Romulans were now as sure as Guinan had been that she was not the same Tasha Yar who had mothered Sela, and that she was not due to travel back in time with the Enterprise C at any point. It looked like they were preparing for something, which involved Tasha being very much in the here and now. There were detailed maps of her facial features in the file – even retina scans. Tasha glowered. They were making arrangements to sneak Sela onto the Enterprise, disguised as her.
You bitch!
Reams and reams of personal information followed – her relationship with Picard, her close friendships with Will, Deanna and Worf… DiMaggio… Data. Some bastard had gotten hold of a transcript of the Maddox Tribunal and added the sordid details to the file.
You Bitch!
The notes on Data linked to another file labelled ‘Soong androids’. She accessed it quickly. The level of information was immense. There were details in there that she’d never even heard about before. It appeared that Data’s psychotic brother Lore had been causing some mischief in a stolen ship at the edges of Romulan space. Impressively, the Romulans had almost captured him… almost. Lore had escaped, leaving no less than 90 dead Romulans in his wake. Data’s presence amongst Starfleet had already caught their attention – Lore had made them practically frantic for details about the workings of Soong’s creations. There were three Romulan cyberneticists working on what had been gathered of Soong’s designs… but not, Tasha realised as she studied the notes and diagrams, to create more androids. Oh, no – what they were seeking to develop was worse. Much, much worse. She had no idea how the contraptions she looked at were supposed to work, or whether they could be successful… but she knew what they were for.
You BITCH!
‘Commander Sela…?’ stuttered a confused voice from the corridor beyond.
Tasha leapt to her feet, switching off the computer as she went.
‘You look surprised to see me,’ replied another familiar voice from outside.
Tasha looked about herself frantically. Escape, fight or hide…?
‘I… thought you were already in your office, Commander.’
Escape was out – the only exit was the door that Sela and the young Romulan officer were already standing at. Hiding would have been an option if Sela’s office weren’t so damned minimalist. Fighting her way out was a possibility, but it would blow the cover on the whole mission, and the chances of her being outnumbered or overpowered between the office and a sanctuary were high. She was not going to get captured by those bastards! Maybe if she took Sela by surprise she could subdue her, lock her in the office and saunter out to safety, still disguised. But how…? She glanced up.
Ah-ha!
‘Did you, now?’ Sela asked the junior officer, with almost a hint of amusement in her voice.
‘I… I spoke to you, Commander. You told me not to question you.’
‘Well,’ Sela agreed, ‘that does sound like me.’
The door opened and she strode into the office. She calmly walked over to her desk, sat down, and began to write.
‘I know you’re still in here,’ she announced after a while. ‘The chair is still warm. My guess is that you’re hiding in the ventilation shaft.’ She aimed her weapon at the grate. ‘Rather a cliché, wouldn’t you say?’
Up in the ventilation shaft, Tasha held her breath.
‘Yes,’ Sela continued, ‘you’ll notice that around two metres behind you is a large, immovable air filter. I had it installed partially to keep the humidity just so, and partially to keep undesirables from crawling in, or out. So, you’re not going anywhere, and if you were planning on waiting to take me by surprise, I’d say that chance has pretty much passed, wouldn’t you? Why don’t you come down?’
Still, Tasha didn’t move a muscle. From the grate, she could see a small picture on the wall that she hadn’t noticed before – an image of Sela next to an older looking Romulan male. He looked proud… they both looked proud. And, Tasha noticed, they had the same eyebrows.
‘If you’re worried about destroying your friends’ cover and putting them in danger,’ Sela added, ‘don’t bother. I already have them in my custody. I got our mole to deliver them to me while you were busy messing up my filing system.’ She looked up from her writing, straight at the ventilation grate. ‘I’ve left them to sweat for a little while whilst I finish off this speech – your Captain; the esteemed Ambassador, who I believe is quite the girlhood hero of yours; and the android, which… well, since you’ve been through my notes, you’ll know quite how close we are aware that you are to that thing.’
Tasha still didn’t move. She couldn’t take her eyes off that picture.
‘If you don’t believe me, they’ll be brought in shortly. You can see for yourself. However, I’d really rather you come down now. You’re damaging the whole air filtration system while you’re up there. It’s really very rude of you.’ Sela paused. ‘Perhaps, if you continue to forget your manners in this way, I’ll forget my manners when your friends arrive. And I know, I know… you’re thinking “why bother, the Romulan is bound to kill them anyway”… well, you’ve got a point there. But you know as well as I do, Commander Yar, that a swift execution is not the worst fate that can befall one who finds themselves at the mercy of the Romulan Empire.’
Still, Tasha stared silently at the portrait.
‘So, I’ll do you a deal,’ Sela continued. ‘If you come down now, then when the time comes, you, your Captain, your hero and your paramour will have quick, clean, dignified ends. If you continue to clog up my filter, I’ll keep them alive.’ She smiled wistfully to herself. ‘Humans snap like dry twigs under our torturers… even ones as resilient as you believe your Captain to be. Vulcans take considerably more effort, but it’s just so satisfying when they finally crumble that it really is worth the extra patience. And I take it you’ve been reading up about Dr Poklar’s work… she has a number of prototypes that she’s just itching to try out on a genuine Soong model. I have faith in her. I’m sure that she’ll find some way or other of causing the android tremendous pain.’ Sela sat back. ‘I wonder what sort of sound a machine makes when it screams. I’d be delighted to find out…’
Tasha opened the grate and slid down the wall to the floor. Sela offered her a tight smile.
‘Isn’t that much better, now?’
Her weapon still trained on Tasha, she held out a hand to receive her phaser. Once Yar was disarmed, she tapped a communications hub.
‘I’m ready for the prisoners.’
ROLLERCOASTER
-x-
Generation Gap
-x-
‘How does she do that?’
‘Sir…?’
‘How can she just… nod off? Just like that?’
Data paused. ‘Are you referring to Commander Yar?’
‘Who else?’ Picard whispered in reply. He shifted uncomfortably to a sitting position on the cold slab of metal that the Klingons laughably referred to as a “bed”, and watched the woman curled up on the floor in the corner silently. In spite of the extreme discomfort of the cramped cabin, Tasha had smiled, yawned, bid the others a good night, then bunched herself up in a tight, foetal knot on the rough floor before Picard had had chance to offer her the “bunk” and now, mere minutes later, seemed to be blissfully, soundly asleep.
‘I believe it is because she feels secure at present.’
‘Secure?’ Picard echoed. ‘On a Klingon vessel in Romulan territory, about to embark on an undercover mission…?’
Data offered him a vague approximation of a shrug. ‘She does not sleep easily on away missions when she feels that there is the possibility of sudden attack. Otherwise, she is capable of falling asleep in surroundings too uncomfortable for most humans to rest in.’
Picard squinted at the snoozing woman. She appeared to be using her shoes as a pillow. ‘A habit learned from her childhood on Turkana IV?’ He whispered.
‘I believe so,’ Data replied. ‘And there is no need for you to lower your voice. Unless one physically agitates her during her slumber, she is particularly difficult to rouse.’
Picard smiled a little. ‘Data, do you actually have files on how to best wake all your fellow officers up?’
‘No, Sir.’
‘Then how...’ Picard trailed off, reminding himself, a little too late, how it was that Data knew so much about Tasha’s sleeping habits. He looked down at his knees and cleared his throat. ‘I do beg your pardon. That’s none of my business’
‘I am not offended, Sir.’
‘Good.’
There was a long pause. Picard looked across at his hard mortuary table of a bed. It wasn’t starting to look any more enticing.
‘Sir…’
Picard looked back up at the awkwardly standing android. ‘Yes, Data?’
‘If you do not mind my asking, Sir…’ Data frowned a little. ‘It has not yet been made clear to me why it is that Commander Yar has been selected for this mission.’
‘Apart from her being the finest security and tactical officer I’ve ever had the pleasure of serving with, you mean…?’
‘I am capable of offering you more than adequate physical protection alone, Sir.’
‘Data…’ It was Picard’s turn to frown. ‘We’ve found ourselves in the curious position of having amongst us an officer who is capable of perfectly imitating a high ranking Romulan – somebody capable of opening a few doors.’ Picard paused for breath before remembering to add ‘figuratively speaking, that is. Should we require fast, easy access to certain restricted areas of Romulus - perhaps even the Senate itself – it may well prove invaluable to have with us the presence of our own “Commander Sela”.’ He paused again, thinking. ‘Data, you’ve already been briefed on all of this. What exactly is the issue here?’
‘One version of Tasha has already lived as a captive concubine for many years on Romulus,’ Data reminded Picard, ‘and has already been killed.’
‘I am aware of that, Mister Data, and if there was anything I could do to change that…’
‘Captain…’ The android cocked his head at Picard slightly. ‘What would you hypothesise would become of Tasha in the event of an encounter with the real Commander Sela?’
Picard pressed his lips together tightly. ‘Well… I’m certain that…’
‘I’d handle it,’ muttered a voice from the corner.
Picard blinked. ‘Tasha. I’m sorry – did we wake you?’
‘Not as such,’ mumbled the foetal woman. ‘Guess I’m not as sound a sleeper as you reckoned, Data.’
Data and Picard exchanged glances.
‘My apologies, Tasha.’
Tasha grunted and rearranged the shoes under her head. ‘Don’t sweat it.’
‘I do not sweat.’
‘Data,’ replied Tasha, ‘do me a favour, would you?’
‘What is it?’
‘Shut up.’
Picard smiled at Data’s perplexed expression.
There was a brief silence before the android spoke again. ‘For how long do you wish me to “shut up”, Tasha?’
But there was no reply except for the young woman’s soft, content snoring.
-x-
Tasha looked in the mirror and sighed. She brushed a finger over one of her pointed prosthetic ears, then down her thick, straight Romulan fringe. She tried setting her face into Sela’s trademark contemptuous scowl. She sighed again.
She heard a faint growl from behind her and turned her head slightly. The Klingon lingering in the doorway wore an expression as though he’d just stepped in something disgusting.
‘Repulsive,’ he muttered.
‘You’ve got a point,’ Tasha agreed quietly, glancing back at the mirror.
‘Human females are hideous enough,’ grunted the Klingon, ‘but to make yourself appear Romulan…’
‘You know,’ Tasha added, ‘it’s very rude to intrude on a lady when she’s getting changed.’
The Klingon sneered. ‘Your friends are waiting for you. You will make quite the trio, looking as you do.’
‘Great.’ Tasha smiled brightly at him as she sprang to her feet. It appeared to unsettle the Klingon a little, and he stood back to allow her to pass without further comment. She rounded a corner and almost walked straight into a rather surprised looking Romulan.
‘Oh!’ She exclaimed, then blinked. She felt a wide grin of amusement pull at her lips as the altered features suddenly became recognisable. ‘Sir! Is that really you?’
A green-tinged Jean Luc Picard offered her a very un-Romulan smile. ‘I take it from your initial surprise that my disguise is convincing.’
‘Just remember to maintain a sourpuss expression throughout and I’m certain you can pass for Romulan.’
Picard nodded. ‘Thank you, Commander. And, may I add…’ He trailed off, frowning at Tasha’s expression. ‘Is there something the matter…?’
‘Sorry.’ Tasha tried her best to look as serious as possible. ‘It’s just… you have hair, Sir.’
Picard smoothed down his own thick black fringe, irritably. ‘Yes. It feels very odd.’
Tasha folded her arms, playfully. ‘I’m sure you’ll get used to it.’
The Captain arched an eyebrow at her ‘I intend not to.’
Tasha grinned again. As vital and treacherous as she knew her upcoming mission was, she had to admit to herself – this was fun. She just couldn’t wait to see what Data looked like…
On cue, the universe’s stiffest, most angular Romulan stepped awkwardly from a doorway to join the pair and tilted his head slightly at Tasha like a clockwork sparrow.
‘The resemblance to Commander Sela is indeed remarkable…’
Data was cut off as Tasha burst into a fit of giggles.
‘However,’ he continued in the same placid tones as ever, ‘I do not believe that she is prone to such hysteria. You should do well not to laugh when we are on Romulus.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Tasha laughed, ‘but you as a Romulan… it’s just not right.’
Data checked his prosthetic ears and forehead with his fingertips. ‘Is there something amiss with my makeup?’
‘You’re just… you. You’re just Data, dressed as a Romulan.’
Data blinked bewildered. ‘That is correct. I do not understand…’
‘I think what Tasha is trying to say,’ interjected Picard, ‘is that you don’t seem to have the movements quite correct for a Romulan yet. Or the speech patterns.’
‘I am aware of that, Sir. And I am striving to correct those issues…’
Picard nodded at the android. ‘That’s good.’
‘Just as,’ Data continued, ‘I have been attempting to make my physical movements and speech patterns more human in the years since my reactivation.’
‘Right,’ nodded Picard, his expression not cracking. ‘Data, you’d probably better allow me to do most of the talking once we’re down there.’
‘That may be a wise strategy, Sir,’ agreed Data. He blinked again at Tasha, who was still biting down the last of her giggles. ‘You appear to be in a particularly jocular mood, Commander, considering the severity of our mission.’
Tasha wiped her eyes. ‘I’m just making the most of being able to laugh while I still can. I’m not expecting to smile much when I’m acting as Sela.’
‘Well, I shouldn’t worry about that quite yet, Commander Yar,’ Picard told her. ‘Commander Data and I will be making the initial enquiries.’
Tasha’s face fell. ‘I know, I know,’ she sighed. ‘I’m your “secret weapon”, and I can’t exactly stay secret for very long once I’m on Romulus. I just… I get ants in my pants when I’m this close to an important away mission… and before you ask, Data, no, my pants don’t literally have insects in them.’
‘I am aware of that,’ Data nodded. ‘The term was a colloquialism, with the meaning that you are impatient to proceed with the plan, was it not?’ Data didn’t give Tasha the opportunity to reply. ‘However, I must remind you that, should our mission continue to our ideal expectations, we will not require you to transfer to the surface at all.’
Tasha nodded. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
‘As I have just stated, that would be the ideal situation.’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You’re still worried about me, aren’t you?’
‘I am incapable of worry…’
‘Sela got you spooked,’ Tasha interrupted. ‘Didn’t she? Or at least, the story of her mother did. You think I might get captured down there. You think history’s somehow going to repeat itself…’
‘We all risk capture,’ Picard interceded. ‘You are not at any greater risk than the rest of us. If I thought that you might be, you would never be on this mission.’
‘I’m not going to be captured,’ Tasha informed them, plainly. ‘They might have got the other Tasha, but those sons of bitches aren’t gonna get me.’
‘It is possible…’ began Data.
‘No, it isn’t,’ snapped Tasha.
‘If you…’
‘It is not going to happen, Data!’
‘That’s it!’ announced Picard with a sudden enthusiasm.
‘What?’
The disguised captain pointed at her face. ‘That’s the right expression for a Romulan.’ He turned his attention to the strange frown on the android’s features. ‘You too, Data. Well done.’
-x-
‘Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-t… dammit.’
Tasha got up, picked up the balled pair of socks, then sat back against the cabin wall, closed her eyes and started again.
‘The latrines are full of Tribbles, the computer’s gone berserk…’
-x-
Data gave Picard and his guest a brief nod of acknowledgement as they approached, and swiftly went back to his work at the Klingon computer banks.
Picard smothered a smile at the manner in which Ambassador Spock took in his surroundings. The dignified Vulcan’s movements were far more fluid, far more ponderous than the android’s faintly birdlike actions, but there was something about the way that Spock looked about himself – something about his air of detached, cerebral fascination – that was heavily reminiscent of Data.
‘Your Klingon hosts appear to be absent,’ noted the Ambassador.
‘They did not wish to remain in this part of the ship,’ Data explained without looking up from the computer, ‘on account of the singing.’
‘Thirty,’ chanted Tasha’s voice from the next chamber. ‘Thirty-one. Thirty-two. Thirty-three. Thir… drat.’
‘She has been singing drinking songs popular at Starfleet Academy for three hours, twelve minutes and fifteen seconds, at an average level of 72 decibels,’ added Data. ‘It appears that she is… bored, Sir,’
Spock cocked an eyebrow.
‘The secret weapon that I mentioned earlier,’ Picard elaborated, ‘who unfortunately has been forced to spend the entirety of this mission so far confined to the ship, thinking up ways of entertaining herself… which appear to have revolved largely around annoying the Klingon crew.’
‘Hmm,’ replied Spock.
Picard blinked. Was that a note of amusement in the Ambassador’s voice? He followed the Vulcan as he quietly approached the open door to the cabin from which the chanting issued.
Tasha was sitting against the wall with her eyes shut tight. She had removed her socks and fashioned them into a makeshift ball, which she threw rhythmically into the air and caught again as she chanted. It was a pretty basic drinking game that Picard recalled from his Academy days – not exactly fun if you were alone and sober, but it passed the time. The words of the chant differed slightly from year to year, as was the way with oral traditions. Picard bit his lip as Tasha picked the dropped ball of socks from her lap and prepared to start from the beginning. He sincerely hoped that, considering the company they had at the time, the words that Tasha was used to wouldn’t bear any resemblance to those that he used to sing.
But, of course, they did.
‘The latrine is full of Tribbles, the computer’s gone berserk,’ chanted Tasha, still throwing and catching the “ball” with screwed up eyes. ‘How many girls have lost their bra to James T. Kirk? One. Two. Three. Four. Five…’
‘I suspect that you will have to throw your ball for some time,’ announced Spock suddenly, ‘if you wish to attain anything close to an accurate number.’
‘Shit!’ Tasha dropped the ball and sprang to her feet, mortified.
‘Besides which,’ Spock continued, ‘as I recall, the song usually refers to female hearts lost, rather than undergarments.’
Tasha began hastily pulling on her socks. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any offence, Ambassador…’
‘The song was not about me,’ the Vulcan replied with a faint shrug. ‘And if you believe that it is offensive to Admiral Kirk’s memory for attractive young women to sing in celebration of his sexual prowess, then perhaps you know something about my old friend that I do not.’
‘Um,’ muttered Tasha, before changing tack, brightly. ‘Embarrassing first impressions aside, Sir, may I say what a pleasure it is to finally meet you.’
Picard smiled again at the sight of the young woman, still fully made up as Sela, as she held out her hand to shake, then quickly changed her mind and started to attempt a Vulcan salute, leaving Spock with his arm outstretched to return her handshake. Tasha blinked, gathered herself and finally grabbed the Vulcan’s hand with both of hers and pumped it enthusiastically.
‘I never had any role models growing up as I did,’ Tasha explained, ‘but hearing about the things you guys on the original Enterprise achieved, the adventures you had… you were the first heroes I ever had. You were inspirational to me, and… and you must think I’m a complete idiot.’
‘On the contrary,’ Spock replied, ‘I have found both your Captain and your android friend to be highly logical people. I do not believe that they would have displayed the confidence and pride in you that they have when discussing you, were you in any way idiotic. However,’ he added, a little conspiratorially, ‘it may be prudent for you to stop shaking my hand now.’
Tasha released his hand swiftly with a sheepish smile.
‘If you don’t mind,’ added Spock, ‘I offered to assist your Mister Data.’
The Vulcan turned back into the other cabin to join the android at the computer bank. Tasha covered her eyes with a sigh.
‘Are you all right, Commander?’
‘A little flustered,’ Tasha replied, ‘a little mortified.’ She smiled tightly at her Captain. ‘I’ll live.’
‘I’m sorry we startled you,’ Picard told her. ‘However, you may be pleased to know that it appears you won’t be twiddling your thumbs here for much longer.’
Tasha’s eyes lit up with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. ‘You need me to go down there?’
‘We need some information on a member of the Senate – Proconsul Neral. We have some suspicions as to his motives.’
Tasha nodded. ‘I’ll speak with him.’
‘There might be a more effective means of gathering information,’ Picard replied, ‘providing Data is able to unlock the access codes to the Romulan computer system. I would imagine there would be a wealth of invaluable information in Sela’s office – and not just on Neral. All you’d have to do would be to walk in as Sela and sit at her desk.’
Tasha folded her arms with a grin. ‘I never signed up for any desk job, Captain.’
Picard genially patted his Security Officer on the shoulder. ‘I’m certain that there will be plenty there to keep you suitably stimulated.’
-x-
Get in, get what you need, get out again. Be speedy, be inconspicuous. don’t let them find out what you’ve pulled until they’re eating your dust.
Tasha clicked swiftly through the hall; her boxy shoulders making her feel twice her usual width.
March, she reminded herself internally, don’t walk. Scowl, don’t smile. You are Sela – angry, arrogant Sela. Everybody you see is beneath you. You are…
‘Commander Sela!’
She blinked slightly as the junior officer hurried towards her.
‘Yes?’ She grunted.
‘We were not expecting you back for hours,’ the officer worried, ‘and certainly not alone.’
Oh, crap.
She turned an acid gaze onto the young Romulan. ‘Are you questioning me?’
The officer balked. ‘I would not dream of it, Commander…’
‘Then why are you still bothering me?’
‘I just…’ The Romulan faltered. ‘Has there been a change of plan…?’
Tasha reached the door, which according to the information Data had pulled up, would hopefully lead to Sela’s office. She stopped and turned to the young Romulan. ‘When I wish to provide you with new information, I shall do so of my own accord. Not before. Do you understand?’
The Romulan bowed his head. ‘Yes, Commander.’
Tasha turned back to the door, biting down a smirk. The door opened smoothly to reveal a Spartan office. A desk, a couple of computer terminals… that was pretty much it. She quickly made her way over to the desk and typed in the access codes she had been given. She beamed as the console suddenly filled up with neat lines of information files.
Thank you, Data.
It didn’t take her long to locate information concerning Neral. Picard’s suspicions had been correct, it seemed. Neral and Sela had been working together to locate and infiltrate the underground Reunification movement.
You bitch.
She was about to look further into more detailed files when something else on the console caught her eye. She frowned and accessed the file labelled ‘Yar’.
She sat back, exhaling slowly as the screen filled with information about her own life. Somebody, it seemed, had been very busy indeed gathering as many details as they could, no matter how personal. From what Tasha could tell, the Romulans were now as sure as Guinan had been that she was not the same Tasha Yar who had mothered Sela, and that she was not due to travel back in time with the Enterprise C at any point. It looked like they were preparing for something, which involved Tasha being very much in the here and now. There were detailed maps of her facial features in the file – even retina scans. Tasha glowered. They were making arrangements to sneak Sela onto the Enterprise, disguised as her.
You bitch!
Reams and reams of personal information followed – her relationship with Picard, her close friendships with Will, Deanna and Worf… DiMaggio… Data. Some bastard had gotten hold of a transcript of the Maddox Tribunal and added the sordid details to the file.
You Bitch!
The notes on Data linked to another file labelled ‘Soong androids’. She accessed it quickly. The level of information was immense. There were details in there that she’d never even heard about before. It appeared that Data’s psychotic brother Lore had been causing some mischief in a stolen ship at the edges of Romulan space. Impressively, the Romulans had almost captured him… almost. Lore had escaped, leaving no less than 90 dead Romulans in his wake. Data’s presence amongst Starfleet had already caught their attention – Lore had made them practically frantic for details about the workings of Soong’s creations. There were three Romulan cyberneticists working on what had been gathered of Soong’s designs… but not, Tasha realised as she studied the notes and diagrams, to create more androids. Oh, no – what they were seeking to develop was worse. Much, much worse. She had no idea how the contraptions she looked at were supposed to work, or whether they could be successful… but she knew what they were for.
You BITCH!
‘Commander Sela…?’ stuttered a confused voice from the corridor beyond.
Tasha leapt to her feet, switching off the computer as she went.
‘You look surprised to see me,’ replied another familiar voice from outside.
Tasha looked about herself frantically. Escape, fight or hide…?
‘I… thought you were already in your office, Commander.’
Escape was out – the only exit was the door that Sela and the young Romulan officer were already standing at. Hiding would have been an option if Sela’s office weren’t so damned minimalist. Fighting her way out was a possibility, but it would blow the cover on the whole mission, and the chances of her being outnumbered or overpowered between the office and a sanctuary were high. She was not going to get captured by those bastards! Maybe if she took Sela by surprise she could subdue her, lock her in the office and saunter out to safety, still disguised. But how…? She glanced up.
Ah-ha!
‘Did you, now?’ Sela asked the junior officer, with almost a hint of amusement in her voice.
‘I… I spoke to you, Commander. You told me not to question you.’
‘Well,’ Sela agreed, ‘that does sound like me.’
The door opened and she strode into the office. She calmly walked over to her desk, sat down, and began to write.
‘I know you’re still in here,’ she announced after a while. ‘The chair is still warm. My guess is that you’re hiding in the ventilation shaft.’ She aimed her weapon at the grate. ‘Rather a cliché, wouldn’t you say?’
Up in the ventilation shaft, Tasha held her breath.
‘Yes,’ Sela continued, ‘you’ll notice that around two metres behind you is a large, immovable air filter. I had it installed partially to keep the humidity just so, and partially to keep undesirables from crawling in, or out. So, you’re not going anywhere, and if you were planning on waiting to take me by surprise, I’d say that chance has pretty much passed, wouldn’t you? Why don’t you come down?’
Still, Tasha didn’t move a muscle. From the grate, she could see a small picture on the wall that she hadn’t noticed before – an image of Sela next to an older looking Romulan male. He looked proud… they both looked proud. And, Tasha noticed, they had the same eyebrows.
‘If you’re worried about destroying your friends’ cover and putting them in danger,’ Sela added, ‘don’t bother. I already have them in my custody. I got our mole to deliver them to me while you were busy messing up my filing system.’ She looked up from her writing, straight at the ventilation grate. ‘I’ve left them to sweat for a little while whilst I finish off this speech – your Captain; the esteemed Ambassador, who I believe is quite the girlhood hero of yours; and the android, which… well, since you’ve been through my notes, you’ll know quite how close we are aware that you are to that thing.’
Tasha still didn’t move. She couldn’t take her eyes off that picture.
‘If you don’t believe me, they’ll be brought in shortly. You can see for yourself. However, I’d really rather you come down now. You’re damaging the whole air filtration system while you’re up there. It’s really very rude of you.’ Sela paused. ‘Perhaps, if you continue to forget your manners in this way, I’ll forget my manners when your friends arrive. And I know, I know… you’re thinking “why bother, the Romulan is bound to kill them anyway”… well, you’ve got a point there. But you know as well as I do, Commander Yar, that a swift execution is not the worst fate that can befall one who finds themselves at the mercy of the Romulan Empire.’
Still, Tasha stared silently at the portrait.
‘So, I’ll do you a deal,’ Sela continued. ‘If you come down now, then when the time comes, you, your Captain, your hero and your paramour will have quick, clean, dignified ends. If you continue to clog up my filter, I’ll keep them alive.’ She smiled wistfully to herself. ‘Humans snap like dry twigs under our torturers… even ones as resilient as you believe your Captain to be. Vulcans take considerably more effort, but it’s just so satisfying when they finally crumble that it really is worth the extra patience. And I take it you’ve been reading up about Dr Poklar’s work… she has a number of prototypes that she’s just itching to try out on a genuine Soong model. I have faith in her. I’m sure that she’ll find some way or other of causing the android tremendous pain.’ Sela sat back. ‘I wonder what sort of sound a machine makes when it screams. I’d be delighted to find out…’
Tasha opened the grate and slid down the wall to the floor. Sela offered her a tight smile.
‘Isn’t that much better, now?’
Her weapon still trained on Tasha, she held out a hand to receive her phaser. Once Yar was disarmed, she tapped a communications hub.
‘I’m ready for the prisoners.’
