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r_scribblesAmazingly, both chilluns are currently napping at the same time right now, so here's some more Rollercoaster while I have a bit of breathing space! Set between First Contact & Insurrection, at the time of Worf & Jadzia's wedding on DS9. It's been a long time since I've seen any DS9, which might explain why the cameos from O'Brien and Bashir are a bit Last-Of-The-Summer-Wine-Ish, and Quark has more than a touch of the Colin Matthews' about him. More will be posted soon.
ROLLERCOASTER
-x-
Mr Data and Miss Yar Send Their Regrets
-x-
Chapter one: An Englishman, An Irishman and a Klingon walk into a bar…
-x-
‘He’s pacing.’
‘Yes. I know.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen him pace before.’
‘He’s entitled to pace.’
‘He looks worried. Doesn’t he look worried? I wonder why he looks worried.’
‘You’ve never been married. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.’
‘I’m going to talk to him.’
‘Why do you have to talk to him? He’s a brooder, not a talker. Let him brood. He’s good at brooding. It’s his Thing.’
‘Yes, but he’s pacing.’
Julian Bashir hurried up to the tense Klingon with Miles O’Brien trailing behind, still protesting.
‘Worf?’
‘Mnn?’
‘Are you all right?’
‘Nnmm.’
‘It’s just… you’re pacing to and fro rather a lot, and we wondered if anything was bothering you in particular.’
‘Anything bothering him?’ O’Brien snorted an incredulous little laugh. ‘He’s getting married tomorrow, and you ask if anything’s bothering him?’
Worf just frowned and shook his head.
‘You remember my wedding day?’ O’Brien continued. ‘Keiko getting last minute cold feet and then that bloody debacle with the “dancing”, if that was what they called it… it’s a stressful day.’
‘That is not the issue,’ argued Worf.
Bashir and O’Brien exchanged glances. ‘So, you’re getting the jitters?’
‘Nobody has the jitters!’ Worf snapped.
There was a pause.
‘Then why are you so…’
‘Because the shuttle is late, since you insist on knowing,’ retorted Worf.
‘That’s all?’ asked Bashir. ‘A couple of late guests? They’ve still got 24 hours to get here, Worf.’
O’Brien’s expression began to mirror Worf’s troubled frown. ‘Wait… this is the shuttle from the Enterprise? Oh. Yes, that is quite worrying.’
‘Why is that such a cause for concern?’ Bashir asked.
‘Because Data’s piloting that shuttle,’ replied O’Brien, ‘and Data’s never late. Have you contacted the Enterprise yet, Worf?’
‘Of course,’ growled the Klingon. ‘The shuttle left on schedule but all contact with it was lost three hours ago and I know you’re listening to us, Quark, so why don’t you just join in with the discussion instead of trying to look inconspicuous?’
Quark looked up from the object on the floor that he’d been pretending to inspect. ‘Trying to look inconspicuous? Me? Worf, honestly – all I was doing was studying this…’ he pointed vaguely down at the blackened, slimy object on the floor. ‘This fascinating…’
‘…potato,’ finished O’Brien, gazing down at the mucky lump.
‘Yes,’ confirmed Quark, confidently. ‘I was just studying this fascinating potato on the floor.’
‘A half-eaten piece of food,’ added O’Brien, ‘most likely dropped off the plate of a messy eater and kicked half-way across the promenade. You expect us to believe that you’re enthralled by trash?’
‘I like potatoes,’ Quark replied, aware that he was starting to flounder. ‘Round… starchy…’ He decided that this line of conversation wasn’t doing him any favours and so changed tack brightly to the matter in hand. ‘So, the android’s unaccounted for, then, is it?’
Worf lashed out a hand and grabbed the Ferengi’s collar. ‘What do you know?’
Quark treated Worf to his most charming smile and tried to retain a soothing tone, in spite of his tightening collar. ‘Nothing! Nothing!’
Worf further tightened his grip on Quark’s clothing.
‘Look,’ continued Quark, trying his best not to let his assuring smile fade, ‘I may possibly have been informed lately as to certain parties that are interested in… adopting Starfleet’s android.’
‘There’s a bounty out on Data?’ asked Bashir.
‘Are you surprised?’ asked Quark. ‘It’s a unique piece of equipment.’
‘How much is this bounty?’
‘A lot. More than a lot. “A lot” to the power of ten. There’s a price out on the woman who was coming too – Yar, is it? Not nearly as much as the android, but enough to make the pair of them in an under-defended little shuttle very tempting indeed. Frankly, I’m surprised the Enterprise’s Captain let them make a long trip unescorted like that, given the current climate.’
‘Starfleet Captains have better things to do with their time than to pay as much attention to the state of the Black Market as a common Ferengi,’ replied Worf with a snarl.
Quark shrugged as genially as possible. ‘And where does that attitude get you people? With your females and androids stolen from under your noses, that’s where.’
Worf’s expression didn’t alter in the slightest. ‘You will tell me everything that you know – which sources that have put a price on Commanders Data and Yar’s heads; which Bounty Hunters might have intercepted the shuttle; their tactics, their ships, their weaponry, their bases…’
‘Commander, I would just love to help you out,’ beamed Quark, ‘but I’ve already told you what little I know. Perhaps I could ask certain questions of some of my contacts… although I’m sure you gentlemen would agree that for me to compromise my position like that for Starfleet’s benefit shouldn’t go without some kind of fiscal reward…’
‘You wouldn’t have had a plan of your own to try to abduct Worf’s lucrative guests, would you, Quark?’ O’Brien interrupted.
Quark opened his eyes wide. ‘The close friends of several of my closest friends? During the wedding of the year? I’d never dream of it!’
‘So,’ O’Brien continued, ‘if we were to take a look at that Holosuite that’s been mysteriously out of use for the last three days, we wouldn’t find some sort of elaborate trap programmed in to it?’
Quark barely paused at all. ‘Of course not.’
‘Because Starfleet would take the attempted abduction of two Senior Officers very seriously indeed,’ added Bashir.
‘I imagine that they would,’ Quark replied, levelly. ‘I can tell that this is an area of much concern to you fine gentlemen. You shouldn’t waste your time with one out-of-use Holosuite when the information I have for you – asking nothing in return except your continued friendship and loyal custom – may well help you to track down whatever miscreant has taken your missing crew…’
‘Not to mention,’ added Bashir, ‘possibly eliminating a Black Market business rival…’
‘That never so much as crossed my mind,’ Quark replied. ‘Please. Step into my bar. We have a lot to discuss.’
-x-
‘Well, this is just perfect.’
‘Quiet.’
‘I mean, I was in two minds about going to this damn thing from the start. I mean – a wedding. I hate weddings. Did I mention that I hated weddings?’
‘Yes you did. Now shut up.’
‘But it’s my Best Friend’s wedding, and the last time I saw him, we were both busy trying to get our respective ships back the way they were and licking our wounds from the Borg, so I had to go, really. You were on Earth when the Borg attacked, weren’t you?’
A hand gripped her throat. ‘Make her shut up!’
‘Tasha,’ warned Data quietly from the other side of the tiny holding cell. ‘Do not provoke him. That would not bode well for either of us.’
‘The prison you were kept in was on Antarctica,’ continued Tasha, regardless of the fingers around her throat or Data’s warning, ‘wasn’t it, Mr Fajo? You went in there before the first Borg attack on Earth and didn’t escape until soon after the second. Meaning, we saved your life – at great personal cost – twice. And for what?’
‘Why don’t you just listen to your boyfriend and shut your stinking mouth?’ Fajo retorted through gritted teeth.
‘As I mentioned before,’ Data told him, ‘ Lieutenant Commander Yar and I are not in a romantic relationship. In fact, over the past two years, our social interactions with one another have been considerably strained – I doubt that, at present, one could so much as describe she and I as being friends. The emotional attachment to her that you believe you will be able to use against me does not exist. You have no reason to keep her as a hostage.’
‘Nice try,’ replied Fajo, ‘but don’t think I didn’t notice how quickly you gave up the fight and got into your restraints once my disruptor was pointed at her head.’ Fajo visibly relaxed at the memory of his success in capturing the android for a second time, and took a step away from Tasha. ‘Besides, I have plans of my own for Miss Yar…’
‘If your intention is to intimidate either of us…’ began Data.
‘Um.’ Fajo grinned sharply. ‘I’d say I’d managed that already – wouldn’t you? The looks on your faces after I’d opened fire on that pathetic little shuttle and beamed you out of the resulting fireball… You truly weren’t expecting to ever see me again, were you? You thought prison could hold me, didn’t you?’
‘We heard about your escape,’ Tasha told him. ‘You certainly weren’t the only prisoner on Earth to use the confusion after the Borg’s attack as a smokescreen to slink away under. Admittedly, I don’t think anybody expected you to be a threat after you’d been stripped of your assets. You didn’t seem like the sort of person who had much going for him besides a lot of money.’
‘How do you think I got so rich in the first place?’ Fajo asked. ‘Charity work? Saying please? I am formidable, Yar. Formidable and irrepressible. The whole time I was locked up in Antarctica, I was setting my plans in motion – for my escape, my return to glory and, most importantly, my revenge.’
‘And that’s what this is about, is it?’ Tasha asked. ‘Vengeance?’
‘In part,’ admitted Fajo, ‘but, by happy coincidence, the pair of you just so happen to be in the perfect position to become the first big step in the restoration of my fortune.’ He turned back to Data with a sharp grin. ‘Maybe you should have thought about how profitable you might be before making an enemy of somebody who is so very, very good with money.’
Data stared back at Fajo. If Tasha didn’t know Data so well, she’d assume that he was running with his emotion chip switched off. She knew that expression, however – that superficial mask of blankness – it was his Game Face, and it always caught the new players out.
‘Was not abducting me the last time supposed to be the event that was to bring you unlimited glory?’ Data asked, calmly. ‘That occasion did not progress according to your expectations, did it?’
‘Your little friends managed to rescue you,’ replied Fajo, irritably, ‘but, believe me, that won’t be happening this time.’
‘Was it really me who was saved?’ Data asked.
‘They beamed you out of there like a mother cat scooping up a sickly kitten,’ Fajo retorted.
‘That is not what I asked.’
Fajo took a breath to angrily respond, but stopped short as his Comms earpiece chirruped an incoming message. He tapped the device.
‘What is it?’ He asked whoever was contacting him. ‘I’m busy right… what?’
Tasha had no idea what was being said to Fajo through the earpiece, but she could tell that her abductor didn’t like whatever news he was receiving.
‘What?’ He glowered at his prisoners. ‘Hang on,’ he told the earpiece, before addressing Tasha and Data. ‘I have an important call to take,’ he announced, taking a step towards the door of the holding cell. ‘Don’t you two go anywhere, now… I mean, you can’t – it’s physically impossible – but best not to even try. It would be rude.’
Fajo left the cell quickly. The door shut behind him, auto-locked and finally hummed as a strong force field powered up in front of it. Fajo really wasn’t taking any chances this time, it seemed. Tasha wondered why he’d put so much effort into securing a door that neither she nor Data could even get to. She had been attached to a wall of the cell with thick shackles around her wrists – Fajo had been right, she wasn’t going anywhere. And if her restraints seemed over-the-top, Data’s were almost comic in their severity. Fajo hadn’t taken the disruptor from Tasha’s head until Data had got himself into the elaborate restraints. A contraption resembling a metal straightjacket kept him pinned to the cell wall opposite her, and if that wasn’t enough, a second force field entirely surrounded him, sitting only a couple of centimetres from his body at every point, rendering the android almost completely immobile.
They sat at opposite walls of the cell and stared at each other in silence for a while.
‘You know what this reminds me of?’ Tasha asked, suddenly. ‘That stupid Holodeck programme. You know – the detective story where we got double booked and wound up chained together on a boat?’
‘That was a game,’ Data reminded her, ‘this is not.’
‘I’m aware of that, thank you Data.’
Data paused. ‘I will admit, there are certain similarities between the fantasy of that predicament and the realities of this one. However, we cannot stop this situation at will.’
‘We didn’t stop that one,’ Tasha recalled. ‘We worked through it.’
‘We fought our way out, chained at the ankles, with nothing on our side but brute force, luck and a pair of stiletto heels,’ replied Data. ‘I do not believe that that will work in this case.’
Tasha smiled at the memory. ‘You picked a bobby pin from my hair with your teeth to jimmy the padlock with.’
‘Yes, I did.’ Data’s expression was strange - faraway and fond.
‘It was fun,’ added Tasha.
‘At the time, I was incapable of enjoyment,’ Data told her. ‘But, in retrospect; yes. It was fun.’
Tasha giggled a little. ‘When the Captain threw himself overboard because he couldn’t stand being in the room with our dumb squabbling for another moment…’
Data snorted a soft laugh to himself, sharing the memory of Captain Picard’s desperate escape. Tasha silently rejoiced – it had been a very long time since she’d last seen him express amusement.
‘I would certainly sooner be back there than here.’
Tasha nodded in agreement. ‘Any escape plans yet?’
‘Several,’ confirmed Data, ‘although all so far involve me being out of these restraints.’
‘Mine, too,’ replied Tasha.
There was another long pause.
‘Do you ever go back to Wonderland?’ Data asked after some time.
Tasha frowned a little at the unexpected line of enquiry. ‘I thought all the Holodeck programmes were destroyed when the old ship crashed.’
‘Not so,’ Data replied. ‘Lieutenant Barclay was able to salvage many of them, including the Wonderland simulation.’
‘Oh,’ said Tasha, flatly. ‘To be honest, Data, I never used it again after we broke up… longer than that, actually – I haven’t been since that time we lost our memories. I don’t know – it’s like us having sex in the simulation has ruined it somehow.’
‘It was intended to be a place where we could both act out a childhood we never had,’ Data reasoned. ‘By performing sexual acts within it, we shattered that illusion.’
‘Can’t even hold on to a pretend childhood. Sounds about right for us.’ She paused. ‘Do you ever go back there?’
‘No,’ replied Data. ‘I was merely curious.’
There was another, very long silence.
Tasha puffed quietly to fill the awkward pause.
‘Worf’s gonna be pissed. The only two of his old Enterprise friends to get the leave time to go to his wedding, and we manage to get captured on the way.’
‘I can imagine.’
There was another pause.
‘His wife-to-be is a joined Trill,’ added Data, matter-of-factly.
‘Yep. Used to be a guy, too. Or part of her did, at least.’
‘To adopt a human phrase; I never saw that one coming.’
Tasha smiled to herself. ‘No. Me neither. Life’s a funny thing. Throws you curveballs like that.’
‘We should know.’ Data offered her a small smile, which dropped suddenly, as if he had just remembered something terrible. He cast his eyes back down at the floor.
Yet another heavy silence fell. Tasha fought the urge to try to talk to him any more about what had passed between them, and the stronger urge to ask him, as she had fruitlessly done so many times since the Borg attack, to share his troubles with her.
After a while, she felt the desperate need to speak again. ‘So what do we do now?’
‘Have you thought of any ways that we can escape while bound in this manner?’
‘No.’
‘Then, we wait.’
-x-
It was over an hour before Fajo returned to the cell, and did so frantic with rage.
‘There’s been a change of plan,’ seethed their captor. ‘I don’t want you to get the wrong idea – this is not good news for either of you. We were going to have a nice little detour – set a few things straight. It was going to be fun…’ Fajo clawed at his temples. ‘Damn it all!’
Data gazed at Fajo. ‘You were taking me to see Palor Toff, were you not? The fellow collector who you were so anxious to impress when you first abducted me. It infuriated and frustrated you that my refusal to interact with him caused him to believe that I was a forgery. You were going to use threats against Commander Yar’s safety as a means of forcing me to rectify that, were you not?’
‘All these years,’ muttered Fajo, more to himself than to either of them, ‘I’ve clung to the look he’d have on his face when he saw you – under my ownership, my control… and now that’s never going to happen. I was so close – so close!’
‘He died,’ interjected Tasha, ‘didn’t he?’
‘He’d been sick for months,’ Fajo replied, absently. ‘Then as soon as I finally get my hands on you again, he gets away from me. It’s as if he knew… He got the last laugh after all.’ Fajo puffed out a long, deep breath, steadying himself. ‘This thing isn’t about kudos any more. It’s just about wealth now. Wealth and revenge. You think I was an uncharitable host, Mister Data? There are people who are paying me to bring you to them that will change your mind about that, believe me. You’re going to wish you never left my ship in the first place – you’ll wish you were still in that room with my paintings and my baseball cards doing exactly what I told you, when I told you like a good little robot.’
‘I find that hard to believe,’ Data replied. ‘Nevertheless, if I am indeed to be sold on, then I must reiterate that you have no cause to retain Commander Yar as a captive…’
‘I’m trying to rebuild a fortune, Mister Data,’ retorted Fajo, ‘and as such have no intention to relieve myself of a healthy woman of childbearing age without fair payment. I’ve already found a buyer for your girlfriend, thank you very much.’
‘Let her go, Fajo. It is I with whom you hold a grudge, not her…’
‘I’ll be OK, Data,’ Tasha murmured. ‘It’s you I’m worried about…’
‘Hear that? She’ll be fine, Data. She looks like the kind who’s been round the block a few times anyway…’
‘Hey!’ Tasha snapped.
‘I’m sure if she shows her new owner a good time she’ll get by all right,’ Fajo continued. ‘Not that you’ll get to meet him, Mister Data. We’ll be liaising with your highest bidder in two hours, and I really don’t think they’ll be as easily placated. You’ve made some powerful enemies in your time, for a professed pacifist. Very powerful enemies.’
ROLLERCOASTER
-x-
Mr Data and Miss Yar Send Their Regrets
-x-
Chapter one: An Englishman, An Irishman and a Klingon walk into a bar…
-x-
‘He’s pacing.’
‘Yes. I know.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen him pace before.’
‘He’s entitled to pace.’
‘He looks worried. Doesn’t he look worried? I wonder why he looks worried.’
‘You’ve never been married. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.’
‘I’m going to talk to him.’
‘Why do you have to talk to him? He’s a brooder, not a talker. Let him brood. He’s good at brooding. It’s his Thing.’
‘Yes, but he’s pacing.’
Julian Bashir hurried up to the tense Klingon with Miles O’Brien trailing behind, still protesting.
‘Worf?’
‘Mnn?’
‘Are you all right?’
‘Nnmm.’
‘It’s just… you’re pacing to and fro rather a lot, and we wondered if anything was bothering you in particular.’
‘Anything bothering him?’ O’Brien snorted an incredulous little laugh. ‘He’s getting married tomorrow, and you ask if anything’s bothering him?’
Worf just frowned and shook his head.
‘You remember my wedding day?’ O’Brien continued. ‘Keiko getting last minute cold feet and then that bloody debacle with the “dancing”, if that was what they called it… it’s a stressful day.’
‘That is not the issue,’ argued Worf.
Bashir and O’Brien exchanged glances. ‘So, you’re getting the jitters?’
‘Nobody has the jitters!’ Worf snapped.
There was a pause.
‘Then why are you so…’
‘Because the shuttle is late, since you insist on knowing,’ retorted Worf.
‘That’s all?’ asked Bashir. ‘A couple of late guests? They’ve still got 24 hours to get here, Worf.’
O’Brien’s expression began to mirror Worf’s troubled frown. ‘Wait… this is the shuttle from the Enterprise? Oh. Yes, that is quite worrying.’
‘Why is that such a cause for concern?’ Bashir asked.
‘Because Data’s piloting that shuttle,’ replied O’Brien, ‘and Data’s never late. Have you contacted the Enterprise yet, Worf?’
‘Of course,’ growled the Klingon. ‘The shuttle left on schedule but all contact with it was lost three hours ago and I know you’re listening to us, Quark, so why don’t you just join in with the discussion instead of trying to look inconspicuous?’
Quark looked up from the object on the floor that he’d been pretending to inspect. ‘Trying to look inconspicuous? Me? Worf, honestly – all I was doing was studying this…’ he pointed vaguely down at the blackened, slimy object on the floor. ‘This fascinating…’
‘…potato,’ finished O’Brien, gazing down at the mucky lump.
‘Yes,’ confirmed Quark, confidently. ‘I was just studying this fascinating potato on the floor.’
‘A half-eaten piece of food,’ added O’Brien, ‘most likely dropped off the plate of a messy eater and kicked half-way across the promenade. You expect us to believe that you’re enthralled by trash?’
‘I like potatoes,’ Quark replied, aware that he was starting to flounder. ‘Round… starchy…’ He decided that this line of conversation wasn’t doing him any favours and so changed tack brightly to the matter in hand. ‘So, the android’s unaccounted for, then, is it?’
Worf lashed out a hand and grabbed the Ferengi’s collar. ‘What do you know?’
Quark treated Worf to his most charming smile and tried to retain a soothing tone, in spite of his tightening collar. ‘Nothing! Nothing!’
Worf further tightened his grip on Quark’s clothing.
‘Look,’ continued Quark, trying his best not to let his assuring smile fade, ‘I may possibly have been informed lately as to certain parties that are interested in… adopting Starfleet’s android.’
‘There’s a bounty out on Data?’ asked Bashir.
‘Are you surprised?’ asked Quark. ‘It’s a unique piece of equipment.’
‘How much is this bounty?’
‘A lot. More than a lot. “A lot” to the power of ten. There’s a price out on the woman who was coming too – Yar, is it? Not nearly as much as the android, but enough to make the pair of them in an under-defended little shuttle very tempting indeed. Frankly, I’m surprised the Enterprise’s Captain let them make a long trip unescorted like that, given the current climate.’
‘Starfleet Captains have better things to do with their time than to pay as much attention to the state of the Black Market as a common Ferengi,’ replied Worf with a snarl.
Quark shrugged as genially as possible. ‘And where does that attitude get you people? With your females and androids stolen from under your noses, that’s where.’
Worf’s expression didn’t alter in the slightest. ‘You will tell me everything that you know – which sources that have put a price on Commanders Data and Yar’s heads; which Bounty Hunters might have intercepted the shuttle; their tactics, their ships, their weaponry, their bases…’
‘Commander, I would just love to help you out,’ beamed Quark, ‘but I’ve already told you what little I know. Perhaps I could ask certain questions of some of my contacts… although I’m sure you gentlemen would agree that for me to compromise my position like that for Starfleet’s benefit shouldn’t go without some kind of fiscal reward…’
‘You wouldn’t have had a plan of your own to try to abduct Worf’s lucrative guests, would you, Quark?’ O’Brien interrupted.
Quark opened his eyes wide. ‘The close friends of several of my closest friends? During the wedding of the year? I’d never dream of it!’
‘So,’ O’Brien continued, ‘if we were to take a look at that Holosuite that’s been mysteriously out of use for the last three days, we wouldn’t find some sort of elaborate trap programmed in to it?’
Quark barely paused at all. ‘Of course not.’
‘Because Starfleet would take the attempted abduction of two Senior Officers very seriously indeed,’ added Bashir.
‘I imagine that they would,’ Quark replied, levelly. ‘I can tell that this is an area of much concern to you fine gentlemen. You shouldn’t waste your time with one out-of-use Holosuite when the information I have for you – asking nothing in return except your continued friendship and loyal custom – may well help you to track down whatever miscreant has taken your missing crew…’
‘Not to mention,’ added Bashir, ‘possibly eliminating a Black Market business rival…’
‘That never so much as crossed my mind,’ Quark replied. ‘Please. Step into my bar. We have a lot to discuss.’
-x-
‘Well, this is just perfect.’
‘Quiet.’
‘I mean, I was in two minds about going to this damn thing from the start. I mean – a wedding. I hate weddings. Did I mention that I hated weddings?’
‘Yes you did. Now shut up.’
‘But it’s my Best Friend’s wedding, and the last time I saw him, we were both busy trying to get our respective ships back the way they were and licking our wounds from the Borg, so I had to go, really. You were on Earth when the Borg attacked, weren’t you?’
A hand gripped her throat. ‘Make her shut up!’
‘Tasha,’ warned Data quietly from the other side of the tiny holding cell. ‘Do not provoke him. That would not bode well for either of us.’
‘The prison you were kept in was on Antarctica,’ continued Tasha, regardless of the fingers around her throat or Data’s warning, ‘wasn’t it, Mr Fajo? You went in there before the first Borg attack on Earth and didn’t escape until soon after the second. Meaning, we saved your life – at great personal cost – twice. And for what?’
‘Why don’t you just listen to your boyfriend and shut your stinking mouth?’ Fajo retorted through gritted teeth.
‘As I mentioned before,’ Data told him, ‘ Lieutenant Commander Yar and I are not in a romantic relationship. In fact, over the past two years, our social interactions with one another have been considerably strained – I doubt that, at present, one could so much as describe she and I as being friends. The emotional attachment to her that you believe you will be able to use against me does not exist. You have no reason to keep her as a hostage.’
‘Nice try,’ replied Fajo, ‘but don’t think I didn’t notice how quickly you gave up the fight and got into your restraints once my disruptor was pointed at her head.’ Fajo visibly relaxed at the memory of his success in capturing the android for a second time, and took a step away from Tasha. ‘Besides, I have plans of my own for Miss Yar…’
‘If your intention is to intimidate either of us…’ began Data.
‘Um.’ Fajo grinned sharply. ‘I’d say I’d managed that already – wouldn’t you? The looks on your faces after I’d opened fire on that pathetic little shuttle and beamed you out of the resulting fireball… You truly weren’t expecting to ever see me again, were you? You thought prison could hold me, didn’t you?’
‘We heard about your escape,’ Tasha told him. ‘You certainly weren’t the only prisoner on Earth to use the confusion after the Borg’s attack as a smokescreen to slink away under. Admittedly, I don’t think anybody expected you to be a threat after you’d been stripped of your assets. You didn’t seem like the sort of person who had much going for him besides a lot of money.’
‘How do you think I got so rich in the first place?’ Fajo asked. ‘Charity work? Saying please? I am formidable, Yar. Formidable and irrepressible. The whole time I was locked up in Antarctica, I was setting my plans in motion – for my escape, my return to glory and, most importantly, my revenge.’
‘And that’s what this is about, is it?’ Tasha asked. ‘Vengeance?’
‘In part,’ admitted Fajo, ‘but, by happy coincidence, the pair of you just so happen to be in the perfect position to become the first big step in the restoration of my fortune.’ He turned back to Data with a sharp grin. ‘Maybe you should have thought about how profitable you might be before making an enemy of somebody who is so very, very good with money.’
Data stared back at Fajo. If Tasha didn’t know Data so well, she’d assume that he was running with his emotion chip switched off. She knew that expression, however – that superficial mask of blankness – it was his Game Face, and it always caught the new players out.
‘Was not abducting me the last time supposed to be the event that was to bring you unlimited glory?’ Data asked, calmly. ‘That occasion did not progress according to your expectations, did it?’
‘Your little friends managed to rescue you,’ replied Fajo, irritably, ‘but, believe me, that won’t be happening this time.’
‘Was it really me who was saved?’ Data asked.
‘They beamed you out of there like a mother cat scooping up a sickly kitten,’ Fajo retorted.
‘That is not what I asked.’
Fajo took a breath to angrily respond, but stopped short as his Comms earpiece chirruped an incoming message. He tapped the device.
‘What is it?’ He asked whoever was contacting him. ‘I’m busy right… what?’
Tasha had no idea what was being said to Fajo through the earpiece, but she could tell that her abductor didn’t like whatever news he was receiving.
‘What?’ He glowered at his prisoners. ‘Hang on,’ he told the earpiece, before addressing Tasha and Data. ‘I have an important call to take,’ he announced, taking a step towards the door of the holding cell. ‘Don’t you two go anywhere, now… I mean, you can’t – it’s physically impossible – but best not to even try. It would be rude.’
Fajo left the cell quickly. The door shut behind him, auto-locked and finally hummed as a strong force field powered up in front of it. Fajo really wasn’t taking any chances this time, it seemed. Tasha wondered why he’d put so much effort into securing a door that neither she nor Data could even get to. She had been attached to a wall of the cell with thick shackles around her wrists – Fajo had been right, she wasn’t going anywhere. And if her restraints seemed over-the-top, Data’s were almost comic in their severity. Fajo hadn’t taken the disruptor from Tasha’s head until Data had got himself into the elaborate restraints. A contraption resembling a metal straightjacket kept him pinned to the cell wall opposite her, and if that wasn’t enough, a second force field entirely surrounded him, sitting only a couple of centimetres from his body at every point, rendering the android almost completely immobile.
They sat at opposite walls of the cell and stared at each other in silence for a while.
‘You know what this reminds me of?’ Tasha asked, suddenly. ‘That stupid Holodeck programme. You know – the detective story where we got double booked and wound up chained together on a boat?’
‘That was a game,’ Data reminded her, ‘this is not.’
‘I’m aware of that, thank you Data.’
Data paused. ‘I will admit, there are certain similarities between the fantasy of that predicament and the realities of this one. However, we cannot stop this situation at will.’
‘We didn’t stop that one,’ Tasha recalled. ‘We worked through it.’
‘We fought our way out, chained at the ankles, with nothing on our side but brute force, luck and a pair of stiletto heels,’ replied Data. ‘I do not believe that that will work in this case.’
Tasha smiled at the memory. ‘You picked a bobby pin from my hair with your teeth to jimmy the padlock with.’
‘Yes, I did.’ Data’s expression was strange - faraway and fond.
‘It was fun,’ added Tasha.
‘At the time, I was incapable of enjoyment,’ Data told her. ‘But, in retrospect; yes. It was fun.’
Tasha giggled a little. ‘When the Captain threw himself overboard because he couldn’t stand being in the room with our dumb squabbling for another moment…’
Data snorted a soft laugh to himself, sharing the memory of Captain Picard’s desperate escape. Tasha silently rejoiced – it had been a very long time since she’d last seen him express amusement.
‘I would certainly sooner be back there than here.’
Tasha nodded in agreement. ‘Any escape plans yet?’
‘Several,’ confirmed Data, ‘although all so far involve me being out of these restraints.’
‘Mine, too,’ replied Tasha.
There was another long pause.
‘Do you ever go back to Wonderland?’ Data asked after some time.
Tasha frowned a little at the unexpected line of enquiry. ‘I thought all the Holodeck programmes were destroyed when the old ship crashed.’
‘Not so,’ Data replied. ‘Lieutenant Barclay was able to salvage many of them, including the Wonderland simulation.’
‘Oh,’ said Tasha, flatly. ‘To be honest, Data, I never used it again after we broke up… longer than that, actually – I haven’t been since that time we lost our memories. I don’t know – it’s like us having sex in the simulation has ruined it somehow.’
‘It was intended to be a place where we could both act out a childhood we never had,’ Data reasoned. ‘By performing sexual acts within it, we shattered that illusion.’
‘Can’t even hold on to a pretend childhood. Sounds about right for us.’ She paused. ‘Do you ever go back there?’
‘No,’ replied Data. ‘I was merely curious.’
There was another, very long silence.
Tasha puffed quietly to fill the awkward pause.
‘Worf’s gonna be pissed. The only two of his old Enterprise friends to get the leave time to go to his wedding, and we manage to get captured on the way.’
‘I can imagine.’
There was another pause.
‘His wife-to-be is a joined Trill,’ added Data, matter-of-factly.
‘Yep. Used to be a guy, too. Or part of her did, at least.’
‘To adopt a human phrase; I never saw that one coming.’
Tasha smiled to herself. ‘No. Me neither. Life’s a funny thing. Throws you curveballs like that.’
‘We should know.’ Data offered her a small smile, which dropped suddenly, as if he had just remembered something terrible. He cast his eyes back down at the floor.
Yet another heavy silence fell. Tasha fought the urge to try to talk to him any more about what had passed between them, and the stronger urge to ask him, as she had fruitlessly done so many times since the Borg attack, to share his troubles with her.
After a while, she felt the desperate need to speak again. ‘So what do we do now?’
‘Have you thought of any ways that we can escape while bound in this manner?’
‘No.’
‘Then, we wait.’
-x-
It was over an hour before Fajo returned to the cell, and did so frantic with rage.
‘There’s been a change of plan,’ seethed their captor. ‘I don’t want you to get the wrong idea – this is not good news for either of you. We were going to have a nice little detour – set a few things straight. It was going to be fun…’ Fajo clawed at his temples. ‘Damn it all!’
Data gazed at Fajo. ‘You were taking me to see Palor Toff, were you not? The fellow collector who you were so anxious to impress when you first abducted me. It infuriated and frustrated you that my refusal to interact with him caused him to believe that I was a forgery. You were going to use threats against Commander Yar’s safety as a means of forcing me to rectify that, were you not?’
‘All these years,’ muttered Fajo, more to himself than to either of them, ‘I’ve clung to the look he’d have on his face when he saw you – under my ownership, my control… and now that’s never going to happen. I was so close – so close!’
‘He died,’ interjected Tasha, ‘didn’t he?’
‘He’d been sick for months,’ Fajo replied, absently. ‘Then as soon as I finally get my hands on you again, he gets away from me. It’s as if he knew… He got the last laugh after all.’ Fajo puffed out a long, deep breath, steadying himself. ‘This thing isn’t about kudos any more. It’s just about wealth now. Wealth and revenge. You think I was an uncharitable host, Mister Data? There are people who are paying me to bring you to them that will change your mind about that, believe me. You’re going to wish you never left my ship in the first place – you’ll wish you were still in that room with my paintings and my baseball cards doing exactly what I told you, when I told you like a good little robot.’
‘I find that hard to believe,’ Data replied. ‘Nevertheless, if I am indeed to be sold on, then I must reiterate that you have no cause to retain Commander Yar as a captive…’
‘I’m trying to rebuild a fortune, Mister Data,’ retorted Fajo, ‘and as such have no intention to relieve myself of a healthy woman of childbearing age without fair payment. I’ve already found a buyer for your girlfriend, thank you very much.’
‘Let her go, Fajo. It is I with whom you hold a grudge, not her…’
‘I’ll be OK, Data,’ Tasha murmured. ‘It’s you I’m worried about…’
‘Hear that? She’ll be fine, Data. She looks like the kind who’s been round the block a few times anyway…’
‘Hey!’ Tasha snapped.
‘I’m sure if she shows her new owner a good time she’ll get by all right,’ Fajo continued. ‘Not that you’ll get to meet him, Mister Data. We’ll be liaising with your highest bidder in two hours, and I really don’t think they’ll be as easily placated. You’ve made some powerful enemies in your time, for a professed pacifist. Very powerful enemies.’
