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

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

The meeting

    Captain Picard was staring out the window in his quarters. He was wondering with a heavy heart about the mission that lay ahead of them. His door chimed.

    “Come!” He shouted. The door swished open, “Number One.”

    “Sir,” Wil strolled into the room.

    “Have a seat.” One at a time, five minutes apart, Beverly, Deanna, Worf and Geordi showed up. When everyone had arrived, Captain Picard spoke. “I have asked you all here so we can brainstorm and figure out what in the hell is happening to Mr. Data. I am worrying what little hair I have left out. Who will start first?”

    “I stick to my original diagnosis, Captain, I think it’s mental.” Beverly spoke.

    “That damn emotion chip.” Geordi growled.

    “Data said Dr. Soong put a dream program in the chip. However, he hasn’t activated it. Even so he is dreaming. He feels they are suppressed memories.” Jean-Luc sat down.

    “That is a possibility,” Wil volunteered, “after all we have no idea how many times Data has been activated. I doubt seriously that he knows.”

    “Good point Number One.”

    “But Captain, what makes him think they are suppressed memories?” Deanna asked.

    “I asked him the same question. He said because they were real to him.”

    “Real?” Geordi asked.

    “Yes, physical was the word he used.”

    “Physical?” Wil raised an eyebrow.

    “He keeps winding up in sickbay.” Beverly threw up her hands and sighed.

    Jean-Luc shook his head, “that’s what he said.”

    “Why would remembering something be painful? We remember stuff every day. Sometimes it makes us cry but I have never been physically sick.” Geordi commented.

    “I have,” Beverly said softly. “There were times I would think about Jack and just throw up. I had convulsions so bad I broke a rib.”

    There was silence for a moment.

    “He has had that emotion chip for two years. Why would these memories start to surface now?” Geordi asked. 

    “I have been feeling something strange. I say something because I can’t identify it. It is like butterflies in my stomach. I first felt it when we saw the rabbit on the holodeck.” Deanna sighed.

   “And what was up with that?” Wil asked. “He talked to it.” 

    “Seems like we are coming up with more questions than answers,” Jean-Luc scratched his head.

    “Do you think someone is communicating with him? Just because I don’t possess that ability doesn’t mean someone else doesn’t.” Deanna thought out loud. 

    “But we’ve had dozens of telepaths on this ship, including your mother. They haven’t either.” Wil voiced.

    Geordi added, “not even the Metamorph. She was something else.” He smiled. 

    “What about Q?” Beverly asked. “He took a special interest in Data.”

    “Q likes to make himself known. This wouldn’t be his style.” Jean-Luc paused. “Has anyone noticed a decline in his duties?”

    They all agreed, no.

    Beverly jumped up out of her seat and started pacing. “That blood. I have scrubbed it against every record we have, nothing. It matches nothing. Okay, I know that it is chemically backwards from human blood.” She stopped pacing, scratching her head. “How can a memory make him throw-up a liter of blood that isn’t even his?”

    “Doctor,” Jean-Luc scolded.

    “Sorry Captain.” She stood still. “We saw how it reacted to an aspirin.” She started pacing again. “I put medicines in it that are helpful to us. They killed it! Almost on contact! Acetaminophen, dead! Diphenhydramine, dead! Aspirin, dead! So I took stuff that will kill us, potassium cyanide, dead! Arsenic, dead! Strychnine, what do you know? It killed it too!”

    “Doctor sit down,” Jean-Luc scolded.

    “Sorry Captain,” she sat back down. “We started infecting it with germs. You aren’t going to believe this but it killed the germs. Not in weeks or months that it would take us but days, even hours. It is amazing.” She took a deep breath. “There is one more thing. Whatever this is it’s allergic to gold.” 

    “Gold?” Deanna said in amazement. 

“Why would something so bizarre be allergic to gold?” Wil asked.

    “I am assuming it is an allergy, because the reaction was so severe. One of my nurses clumsily spilt some on her hand. It washed over her gold wedding ring. The substance just shriveled up. It looks like a dried out sponge. It’s still alive but it’s struggling.” 

    “Is this substance harmful to my crew?” Jean-Luc was always thinking in the best interest of his crew.

    “I don’t think so. The nurse that spilled this on her hand had gotten burned as a child. It left her hand discolored. Her hand looks normal now. If you hadn’t known it before you would never know she had been hurt.”

    “Captain,” Data’s voice broke in. Jean-Luc looked surprised. “Go ahead Mr. Data.” 

    “Sir, we are approaching Deep Space 9.”

*

Q

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