Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters. 

The mission 

    Captain Picard had his senior staff assembled in the ready room. He at the head of the table, Wil on his right, and then around the table was Worf, Geordi, Data, Beverly, Deanna, and a seat for the admiral. Who was late. Jean-Luc detested tardiness. Especially in high ranking officials. They were supposed to set the example.

    Data’s mind wondered. It was becoming very difficult for him to keep his mind focused, if only for a minute. In his mind he was waking up. She was lying beside him. Data knew it was a woman, but didn’t have any idea who she was. “Easy.” An authoritative male voice commanded. On the other side of them was a man. He had long white hair and beard. Both braided. A slight tan, that seemed out of place. And piercing green eyes. “Thank you for helping her.”   

    “You are welcome.” He got up and sat in a chair beside the bed. 

     “Why would anyone want to harm her?” Data asked. 

    “You think this was a person?”

    Data thought about what kind of animal could do this. “I do not know.”

    She moaned, “shh.” The man stroked her forehead. “Shh, it will be okay.” He turned his attention back to Data. “I am Thor. Her father.”

    “I am Data.” He thought. “Her friend.”

    “And a very good friend indeed.”

    Data’s thoughts were interrupted when Admiral Westerfield entered the room. “Are we all here?”

    “Yes Admiral.” Jean-Luc answered. Those that knew his tone knew he was annoyed.

    “Good.” He clasped his hands together. “I guess I can tell you why we are going where we are going.” He sighed. “We,” he smiled, “the Federation has ambassadors whose specialty it is to integrate Federation law into a prospective culture. Acclimatize it, if you will.” 

    “Goodwill Ambassadors,” Data interjected. Admiral Westerfield looked shocked, almost sick. “Yes, how did you know that?”

    “I am unsure.” Data looked confused.

    “Okay,” he paused. “Anyway, we had sent one such ambassador to a planet that we felt was ready to join the Federation. They had expressed an interest to do so.” Westerfield sat in the chair provided for him at the other end of the table facing Jean-Luc. Data was on his right, Geordi on his left. “Because of the nature of these missions, we require that they communicate with the closest Federation outpost every two weeks.”

    “Deep Space 9,” Jean-Luc frowned, “is the closest outpost?”

    “Yes.” 

    “Deep Space 9 is in the middle of nowhere.” Beverly reported.

    “I am aware of that Doctor.” He took a deep breath. “Things were going great for a while. We got our scheduled messages. Our laws were not conflicting in any way with the planets existing laws. We were all overjoyed.” He took another deep breath. “Two weeks passed with no message.” 

    “You got scared and came to Deep Space 9 hoping it was a glitch in communication. Another two weeks passed, you panicked. Now here we are.” Data completed the Admiral’s statement. 

    The smell of honeysuckle flooded Data’s senses. He was no longer in the conference room, he was sitting in a kitchen. The walls were white. The tabletop was glass with a white iron vine pattern for the legs of the table, the leaves of the vines were gold. The four chairs around the table were the same white iron vine pattern with gold leaves. She had her hair pulled into a ponytail. Her green eyes always sparkled. He realized in that moment she had her father’s eyes.

*

Omicron Theta

https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Omicron_Theta

Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters. 

The mission 

    Captain Picard had his senior staff assembled in the ready room. He at the head of the table, Wil on his right, and then around the table was Worf, Geordi, Data, Beverly, Deanna, and a seat for the admiral. Who was late. Jean-Luc detested tardiness. Especially in high ranking officials. They were supposed to set the example.

    Data’s mind wondered. It was becoming very difficult for him to keep his mind focused, if only for a minute. In his mind he was waking up. She was lying beside him. Data knew it was a woman, but didn’t have any idea who she was. “Easy.” An authoritative male voice commanded. On the other side of them was a man. He had long white hair and beard. Both braided. A slight tan, that seemed out of place. And piercing green eyes. “Thank you for helping her.”   

    “You are welcome.” He got up and sat in a chair beside the bed. 

     “Why would anyone want to harm her?” Data asked. 

    “You think this was a person?”

    Data thought about what kind of animal could do this. “I do not know.”

    She moaned, “shh.” The man stroked her forehead. “Shh, it will be okay.” He turned his attention back to Data. “I am Thor. Her father.”

    “I am Data.” He thought. “Her friend.”

    “And a very good friend indeed.”

    Data’s thoughts were interrupted when Admiral Westerfield entered the room. “Are we all here?”

    “Yes Admiral.” Jean-Luc answered. Those that knew his tone knew he was annoyed.

    “Good.” He clasped his hands together. “I guess I can tell you why we are going where we are going.” He sighed. “We,” he smiled, “the Federation has ambassadors whose specialty it is to integrate Federation law into a prospective culture. Acclimatize it, if you will.” 

    “Goodwill Ambassadors,” Data interjected. Admiral Westerfield looked shocked, almost sick. “Yes, how did you know that?”

    “I am unsure.” Data looked confused.

    “Okay,” he paused. “Anyway, we had sent one such ambassador to a planet that we felt was ready to join the Federation. They had expressed an interest to do so.” Westerfield sat in the chair provided for him at the other end of the table facing Jean-Luc. Data was on his right, Geordi on his left. “Because of the nature of these missions, we require that they communicate with the closest Federation outpost every two weeks.”

    “Deep Space 9,” Jean-Luc frowned, “is the closest outpost?”

    “Yes.” 

    “Deep Space 9 is in the middle of nowhere.” Beverly reported.

    “I am aware of that Doctor.” He took a deep breath. “Things were going great for a while. We got our scheduled messages. Our laws were not conflicting in any way with the planets existing laws. We were all overjoyed.” He took another deep breath. “Two weeks passed with no message.” 

    “You got scared and came to Deep Space 9 hoping it was a glitch in communication. Another two weeks passed, you panicked. Now here we are.” Data completed the Admiral’s statement. 

    The smell of honeysuckle flooded Data’s senses. He was no longer in the conference room, he was sitting in a kitchen. The walls were white. The tabletop was glass with a white iron vine pattern for the legs of the table, the leaves of the vines were gold. The four chairs around the table were the same white iron vine pattern with gold leaves. She had her hair pulled into a ponytail. Her green eyes always sparkled. He realized in that moment she had her father’s eyes.

*

Q

https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Q

Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters. 

Visual clues 

    Dr. Crusher and Captain Picard ran through the door. Beverly fell to her knees beside Data. Had Jean-Luc not saw this with his own eyes, he would never have believed it. Data was lying in the floor, his uniform torn as if by a pack of wild animals. His android skin was just as tattered as his uniform. Circuits and wiring were exposed in uncountable places. 

    “Data,” Beverly called to him gently. She was apprehensive about touching him. “Data?”

    “Please,” he hissed. “Don’t deactivate me.” He rolled his head over toward the pair, when he did his right eye came loose from its socket. Beverly jumped in shock.

    “Please,” Data seemed to beg.

    “As you wish,” Picard reassured him.

    When Data woke he wasn’t in sickbay, he was in a special section of engineering that he and Commander LaForge had developed to take care of his special needs. Geordi was standing around a console; Dr. Crusher and Captain Picard were watching him.  

    “How do you feel Mr. Data?” Picard asked.

    “Weak, sir.” There was a long period of silence. “What did I miss in Admiral Westerfield’s briefing?”

    “Nothing, we haven’t had it yet. Westerfield says it is of the greatest importance that all senior staff members be present.” Picard reported.

    “How long have I been out?” 

    Geordi answered, “10 hours. Of which, 8 of that was spent repairing you.”

    Data moved an arm so he could see it. He was stiff and sore. 

    “What?” Beverly asked.

    “I believe Doctor, I am stiff and sore.” Data reported. “Geordi you did a good job repairing me. Thank you.”

    “I hope to never have to do that again.” Geordi wrinkled his brow. “If that would have lasted five more minutes, you could have sustained some major damage.”

    “What was that Data?” Picard asked.

    Data just shook his head which was also stiff and sore. 

    “When you are feeling up to it, report to duty.” Picard left the room.

*

Spot, Data’s pet cat

   https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Spot

Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters. 

More unknowns 

    Data stepped into his quarters. He was a little upset that all the senior staff had a meeting without him. Which lead him to the conclusion that the meeting was about him. He paused for a moment, upset? Yes, he concluded. This upset him. But then again, if they could come up with an answer to what was happening to him, it would be a welcomed relief.

    Some unknown force grabbed him, pushed him back against the door then held him in place. He tried to speak but it was as if his vocal cords where constricted. An odd sensation began to radiate inside him. He had no previous experience on what to name this sensation. At first it wasn’t too bad; it seemed almost pleasing to him. There was a twinge, then a tingle in his groin. This feeling seemed familiar; however, at this moment he couldn’t identify it.  After a few minutes, the sensation became painful.  “Please,” he was finally able to moan.

    The force wouldn’t let go. The pain increased at an alarming rate. At this point, he couldn’t even open his eyes. He cried out. Each increase of pain shocked him. He forgot that he was in his quarters. He forgot that he was aboard the Enterprise. All that seemed important to him was releasing the bursts of pain. Screaming helped but was at best ineffective. 

    The computer alerted Dr. Crusher that there was a medical emergency in his quarters. She rushed to the door but found it locked. “Data!” She called to him. There was no answer. “Data! Open this door!” Still he didn’t answer. “Computer medical over-ride Crusher, Doctor, Beverly Alpha six.”

    “No,” she heard his voice between gritted teeth.

    “Data, please.”

    A burst of pain tore through him again. “No!” He screamed falling to his knees, then on his hands. The pain left like a great number of people kicking him all over his body. No area was safe. He knew he was making noises but was unable to define them. In the distant background, he could hear Dr. Crusher calling to him. Then another voice; male, authoritative, commanding him to open the door. He reeled and rived in pain as the force continued its assault. He heard himself scream once more. A sound he had no idea he could make. As he lay on the floor panting, still unable to move. Finally after what seemed like an hour, he was able to squeeze out, “help.” The door automatically opened.

*

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Trek:_Deep_Space_Nine

Paramount Global owns the Star Trek franchise. This is a piece of fan fiction based on Star Trek the Next Generation characters. 

Deep Space 9

    “I’m on my way.” He got up tugging at his shirt. “Someone feels like working. I’m glad.” He motioned his guests to the door. “Re-enter one at a time.”

    One by one, they did as the Captain instructed. After Worf had entered the bridge, Data spun around in his seat staring at Wil. “Good meeting?” He asked.

    Wil looked surprised, “what meeting?”

    “I might be having problems sir, I have not lost my powers of observation.” Data turned back around as the Captain stepped onto the bridge.

    “Communications open sir.” Worf reported.

    “On screen,” Picard ordered.

    Data tapped his console.

    “Captain, it’s good to see you.” Came a familiar Irish accent.

    “Chief O’Brien, how are you?” 

    “Fine, sir, Captain Sisko is waiting with,” he raised his eyebrows, “your guest in the transporter room.”

    “Thank you.” The view screen went blank. “Number One you have the bridge.”

    “Yes sir.”

    Captain Picard walked into the transporter room, “energize.”

    “Aye, sir.”

    The transporter whirled as an image appeared on the pad. Then a person, in a full Star Fleet uniform appeared.

    “Admiral Westerfield. What a surprise.”

    “Captain Picard.” They shook hands. “It’s been a long time Captain.”

    “Too long.” They left the transporter room together.

    “I heard you were about ready to retire.”

    “This is my last official mission?” Westerfield sighed. 

    “Shall I show you to your quarters?”

    “No,” the Admiral sighed. “Let’s get this mission started.” Once they were back on the bridge he spoke again. “Captain, may I?”

    “Of course Admiral.”

    “Lieutenant, move us away from the space station.”

    Data worked his magic without saying a word. The sight of Westerfield sent rage through him.

    “May I?” He looked at Wesley.

    “Yes, of course sir.” Wesley got up.

    The old Admiral sat down. He entered co-ordinance into the console. “Captain, she’s your ship.”

    “Engage.” There was no pointing into the vastness of space. To Wesley, this was a bad thing. 

    “Assemble your senior staff; in say, an hour?”

    “Yes, sir.” Picard smiled.

    “And this pretty young lady can show me to my quarters.” He smiled at Counselor Troi. She blushed. Captain Picard nodded yes.

    “This way Admiral.” Deanna led him off the bridge. 

*

Chief Miles O’Brien

https://memory-alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Miles_O%27Brien