“if star trek: the next generation was filmed today, data and geordi would be dating,” i say into the mic. the crowd boos. i begin to walk off in shame. two voices are heard from the back of the room, “no, they’re right.” it’s brent spiner and levar burton.
liking star trek is a red flag. it's also an orange flag. and a yellow flag. and a green flag. and a blue flag. and a purple flag. liking star trek is gay. YOU are GAY.
ppl ship geordi and data right. i think theyd do the party rockers bit like “Actually, Geordi, if I am not mistaken, the correct lyrical constitution of the ancient earth composition “Party Rock Anthem” by famed artist LMFAO is in fact “party rock is”, as opposed to your interpretation of said lyrics as “party rockers”.
"Mr. O'Brien says the weapon was in a state of discharge," Riker states pointedly.
"Perhaps something occurred during transport, Commander."
Data cannot lie. Data cannot murder. It is not a part of his programming.
Whumptober Prompt #24: One Down Two to Go | revenge
Data cannot feel.
“If only you could feel rage,” Fajo says. “Maybe you could fire. But you’re…just an android.”
Data’s systems replay the file of Varria’s screams as she disintegrated. Of his own uniform being burned from his body.
“Personally…I’d be delighted to see you go around naked.”
Data pulls the trigger.
Commander Riker inquires about the discharging weapon. Data does not lie.
Not precisely.
Fajo is given his own cage, and Data goes to see him.
“It must give you great pleasure,” accuses Fajo.
“I do not feel pleasure,” Data tells him. “I am only an android.”
Data still doesn't understand some aspects of human behavior. Sometimes, the humans on board don't understand his, either.
Whumptober Prompt #14: Under Pressure | crush injuries + force
“What can you tell me about the settlement, Mr. Data?”
Data’s fingers zipped over his console before Captain Picard had finished speaking, queueing up the routes for the command he calculated was most likely to follow his answer to the captain. His index finger hovered over the final button.
“The structures and dwellings most closely resembled the towns of twenty-second century Bajor. The previous inhabitants possessed limited technology by Federation standards and seemed to have abandoned development of their infrastructure. We did encounter a mineral currently unlisted in any known database in several of the surrounding mineshafts. Exogeology Labs One and Two are running scans on the samples now.”
Picard made the sound Data recognized as interested, or possibly thoughtful. “Link our readouts to the labs’ scanners if you would, Data. I’d like to know more about that mineral.”
“Aye, sir.” Data tapped the button to execute the pre-set program.
“Once Commander Riker is here, we’ll begin the full debriefi—”
The turbolift doors at the rear of the bridge opened, and the voice of the commander cut the captain off.
“What the hell is he still doing here?”
Data spun his chair around to determine to whom Riker was speaking. Picard was looking at his first officer steadily. The captain did not appear to be upset at being interrupted, but a wrinkle formed between his eyebrows. Next to him, Counselor Troi wore a familiar expression Data filed under mild concern.
“What is who still doing where?” Picard asked.
Riker pointed a finger at Data. “Him.” Angry. “I believe I ordered you to sickbay, Commander,” he said turning to Data.
Captain Picard's and Counselor Troi's eyes fell to him too.
“Yes, Commander,” Data agreed. “I intend to go. However, you did not specify the exact time I should report. My shift will be completed in three hours, six minutes, forty-two seconds. It will take twenty-nine minutes, one second more for my systems to fail and require reset and maintenance. I am quite able to remain at my station.”
“Until your systems fail?” asked Counselor Troi, sitting up straight in her seat.
“Data,” said Picard. He looked between his first and second officers. “What do you mean ‘reset and maintenance’? What is this about?”
Data opened his mouth to respond, but Commander Riker spoke again.
“He didn’t tell you about nearly being split in half by a box of those rocks?” He came down the ramp and loomed over Data’s chair, scowling.
“What? Data—” Troi stood from her chair.
“I was not ‘split in half,’ Commander—”
“Will someone kindly explain what is going on here?” Picard’s voice rose over all of them.
Riker crossed his arms. “Commander Data fell into one of the mineshafts while we were down on the planet. The ground gave way – a titanium crate filled with those minerals we found took a tumble too and landed on top of him.”
Captain Picard’s eyes narrowed. “Data, is this true?”
Data cocked his head. “Of course, Captain. I have not known Commander Riker to lie unless—”
“No, Data, that’s not what I mean,” said Picard, rubbing his forehead. Agitated, Data deducted. “What – injuries did you sustain?”
Data summarized. “Superficial damage to my bioplast and muscle structures, a blockage in my cooling system, and a series of leaks in my abdominal fluid supply tubes.”
“He’s bleeding internally, for all intents and purpose,” Riker clarified. His vocal pattern remained angry. There was an additional undertone Data’s programs struggled to identify.
“Data!” Troi put her hands to her hips and moved one step closer. “What are you doing still on duty?”
“I have closed off several cavities to contain the biofluid outflows as a temporary solution.” Data wrinkled his forehead and opened his mouth slightly to convey confusion. “Did I do something wrong?”
Picard sighed. “Not precisely.” He stood from his chair as well and tugged at his uniform top to straighten it.
Data looked up at the three of them. His priority seven subroutine spontaneously displayed an image from the Terran novel Gulliver’s Travels of the titular character in Brobdingnag – the land of giants. He filed away a note to examine the occurrence at a later time.
The captain continued, “However, I reiterate the commander’s order to report to sickbay – immediately. Ensign Basma will cover your station until the end of the shift.”
“Yes, sir.” Data nodded. He rose as Basma slipped over silently to fill the chair behind him. He was almost to the turbolift when he paused his walk cycle and turned back to Commander Riker. “I hope I did not offend you, sir. I did not intend disrespect, or to disobey. I was merely attempting to prioritize.”
He did not fully understand his fellow officers’ reactions. It was an area in which he still had much to learn. He would have to parse the behavior and reassess. Another of his subroutines was already occupied analyzing the micro-movements of their expressions.
“I know, Data,” Riker said, and the skin of his face smoothed out a fraction. “Just – right now is a time to prioritize yourself.”
Data tilted his head to the side again. Then nodded. He began to turn but was halted once more by Captain Picard.
“Oh and, Commander,” said the captain, giving Data his full attention, “in future I would like to be kept informed of any such similar occurrences. I realize your capabilities are significantly greater than many of ours, but I will not permit any officer on this bridge or this ship to remain on duty while they require medical attention. Even if will not become critical for ‘twenty-nine minutes.’ Is that clear?”
Data internally corrected this statement to an updated twenty-six minutes, thirty-two seconds but terminated the command that would have allowed him to say this out loud.
“Yes, sir,” said Data. “It is…‘crystal’ clear.” His nanomotors whirred a little faster underneath his bioplast. He terminated another command that urged his lips to form a smile - he was quite certain he had used the expression correctly.
Data entered the turbolift and turned to face the doors, centered exactly between the walls. Before the doors closed, he observed the positioning of Picard’s mouth as suggestive of amused.
The three officers watched him until the panels slid shut.
-------
Dr. Crusher was waiting for him. As was Geordi.
Data would not have categorized either of them as seeming pleased.
“Commander Riker sent me up,” said Geordi. He gestured to a biobed. “Lie down.”
Data sat. Before he could recline, Geordi tugged at the sleeve of Data’s uniform in a gesture Data quickly interpreted as a silent instruction to remove his shirt. He pulled the top over his head and Geordi nodded, taking it from him. Data’s nanomotors whirred again at the successful decoding of Geordi’s intentions.
Dr. Crusher sighed as she ran a tricorder up and down his body. “Data, what were you thinking?”
Data sculpted a frown. “At which time, Doctor?”
Her face shifted to mimic Captain Picard’s before he had come down in the turbolift. “When you decided to bleed out on the bridge instead of being repaired?”
(Data registered that his human counterparts evidently preferred to refer to the damage to his systems as ‘bleeding’ rather than ‘leaking.’ He did not ask why. He had constructed several theories regarding the behavior in the thirty-seven milliseconds since Dr. Crusher had spoken.)
Data had been thinking many things when he had decided to go to the bridge instead of sickbay. Two hundred and three separate things, to be precise. This is not what Dr. Crusher meant.
“As I explained to Commander Riker, my status is not yet critical.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Geordi as he performed his own scan of Data’s body with his VISOR. “Sure, buddy.”
Geordi placed a hand on Data’s arm as Dr. Crusher sliced into the bioplast covering his midsection with a scalpel. A comforting action, Data knew from past observations. Data did not require comfort – he was not capable of feeling the pain of the incision – but the pathways in his brain pertaining to Geordi’s presence lit up, buzzing with activity. His fingers twitched at the surge. He predicted it likely Geordi would continue to offer comfort throughout the procedure. The pathways lit up again.
Dr. Crusher finished opening up his abdomen, and she and Geordi went to work immediately repairing his damaged parts. Fluid gushed out onto the table as they removed the seals Data had put in place, and he experienced a twelve percent decrease in operating speed as his body diverted power.
He blinked. “Geordi?” He was not certain why had not been able to terminate the command to say his friend’s name.
“Hey, it’s okay, Data. We’ll have you fixed up in no time.” One of Geordi’s hands continued its work where it was buried in Data’s internal workings, but the other squeezed Data’s shoulder before returning. “I promise.”
Data nodded. He authorized the function that closed his eyelids.
In twenty-eig – approximately half of an hour – Dr. Crusher was closing him up again. Geordi ran a device over his bioplast, encouraging it to begin to regenerate and knit itself back together. Data did not think the device had a term to label it yet. Geordi had invented it himself.
“All done,” smiled Dr. Crusher. “Normally I’d order bed rest, but you’re good as new. If only all of my patients recovered as quickly as you, Data.”
Data sat up. His internal scans confirmed his body was fully repaired. However, he was uncertain he fit the definition of ‘recovered.’ Curious, he began to run a comprehensive diagnostic.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Geordi handed him his uniform top. Data put it back on and thanked him as well.
“I’ll stop by after my shift, huh Data?” Geordi suggested as Data stood from the biobed. Geordi’s hand touched his arm again. “We can try out that new holodeck program you’ve been working on.”
Data displayed the smile that cross-referenced most often with similar past suggestions. “I would like that, Geordi.”
Both Geordi and Dr. Crusher smiled then, too, though Data found their expressions to meet two different sets of criteria.
“Alright I’ll see you later, then.” Geordi’s hand slid from his arm.
Data exited sickbay and headed towards his quarters. He contemplated the possibilities of activities with which to fill his time until Geordi was off duty. He had not played with Spot yet today, or given her the kisses she required to maintain a calm state. His walk cycle lengthened. The positronic pathways respective to Spot lit up, followed by the ones concerning Geordi.
The self-diagnostic was still running. He would allow it to finish and inspect the results. However, he estimated his ‘recovery’ to have increased by an unspecified percentage.
Data predicted it likely to continue to increase during his time on the holodeck with Geordi.
Though no one was there to observe it this time but himself, Data smiled.
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