A little extra one-shot at the end of the episode "Legacy" as written by Joe Menosky.

Talking with Tasha

"In all trust, there's the possibility of betrayal."

"Then it is better not to trust."

"Without trust, there's no friendship, no closeness... none of the emotional bonds that make us who we are."

"And yet you put yourself at risk."

"Every single time."

"Perhaps I am fortunate, sir, to be spared the emotional consequences."

"Perhaps."

Data stopped caressing the small yellow implant in his fingers, and went over those last two lines of his conversation with Commander Riker again.

"Perhaps I am fortunate, sir, to be spared the emotional consequences."

And the Commander's reply, a little late, as if he had given it a moment of thought: "Perhaps."

It seemed the Commander had agreed with him. But had he really? Human communication, so he had discovered over the years, was extremely complex and easily misinterpreted. A slightly different tone, a mere flash of a facial expression could indicate that the speaker intended the exact opposite of that what he was actually saying. And the Commander had indeed had a little smile on his face when he said his, "Perhaps."

Could that indicate a possibility that he regarded him – Data – as unfortunate instead, to be spared the emotional consequences of the betrayal of trust?

That was hardly logical, but then: humans were seldom logical. Especially when it came to their emotions.

He looked down at the smooth octagon in his hand. Should he keep it? 'To remember me by', as Ishara had asked him to? Or should he put it in the recycler, as a revenge for her deceit?

No, he decided. He did want to keep it. He wanted to remember her. Despite her betrayal. Even though the only logical reason his positronic brain could come up with was that after all, she was Tasha's sister. And Tasha had been his friend.

He walked down the corridor to his own cabin, and opened the drawer where he kept his few precious keepsakes. Neatly, he placed Ishara's proximity detector next to the holographic picturebox of her sister.

His fingers stroked the cool crystal form. Tasha...

It had been 2.614 years since she died. And as much as he had been accustomed to her presence, by now he had become equally accustomed to her absence.

Until Tasha's sister had shown up, that is. Suddenly he (and apparently everybody else) had been acutely aware of Tasha's absence again. And it had not gotten any better when they had discovered Ishara's deceit and betrayal. If he were human, he supposed he would probably feel hurt now. But all he 'felt' (among a million other things simultanuously) was a renewed constant awareness of Tasha's not being there anymore, much as he had in the period following her demise. Not that it was distracting him, but it was there again. Acute. Demanding attention.

He took out the crystal and placed it on the table. One flick of the switch and there she was: his miniature Tasha.

She looked at him. Or at least seemed to look at him as she changed posture a couple of times. And back to the beginning of the sequence.

"Tasha," he began, but stopped short right away. She could not hear him, let alone answer him. And yet that was what he wanted: to talk the recent events over with her.

A little wistful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he stretched out a finger and fondly petted his holographic friend. "It is not your fault, you know," he said quietly. "I am sure you did what you could to convince her to come with you. And though I fail to understand why, she seems quite content with her life as it is. I suppose she wants this life in the Coalition as much as you wanted to join Starfleet."

Tasha's mischievous grin merged into her defensive pose. And then into a thoughtful smile.

Data drew a good breath, and purposely blew it out through his nose. "If I were human," he thought out loud, "I would probably feel frustration now. I want to talk to her, but not only can she not hear me, neither is she capable of answering me appropriately, other than with these preprogrammed stances which most of the time suggest irrelevant replies to my queries." He tilted his head. "Perhaps I should try and remedy that."

He sat down at his computer and checked his internal chronometer. Still three hours, two minutes, seventeen seconds and five hundred and sixty-five milliseconds to go before he was due on the bridge. That should be more than sufficient.

A good hour later found Data outside holodeck five.

"Computer, run private program Data three."

"Enter security code, please."

Data rattled off his security combination, and the computer answered obligingly: "Program complete. You may enter when ready."

"Thank you."

The door slid open, and he stepped into the barren grounds of a deserted purple planet. A holographic tricorder lay waiting for him on an equally holographic rock, and as he picked it up, the door behind him vanished and became a purple desert.

Slowly, he walked forward, keeping an eye both on his surroundings and on his tricorder. And within a matter of seconds, Tasha's blond forelock peeped up from behind a nearby rock formation. And there she was, scanning their environment with a tricorder, just like he did.

"Anything, Data?"

"Negative, Lieutenant. Apparently, this planet is entirely devoid of life forms. At least of those our tricorders can detect."

"One big ball of rock." Tasha turned off her tricorder. "I say we beam back on board. Nothing worth our interest here."

"I am sorry, but I am obliged to disagree, Lieutenant," Data replied. "A planet is always worth the interest of exploring. The apparent lack of life forms does not necessarily mean that the planet's geology is not worth studying. As a science officer, I would strongly..."

"Yeah, yeah." Tasha made a gesture to shut him up. "You're right of course, but that isn't my department. And we weren't sent here on a geological survey either. Or have you noticed anything particularly interesting?"

"Negative, Lieutenant. As you said: this planet seems to be one big ball of rock."

Tasha rolled her eyes.

"At least on the surface," he added.

"Exactly. So do you have any objections against beaming back on board?"

"None at all."

Tasha touched her communicator. "Yar to Enterprise."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," came the Captain's voice back.

"We're done here, sir. Ready to beam up."

"Good. O'Brien, make it so."

Data, too, turned off his tricorder, and together they waited for the dematerialization beam to envelop them.

But nothing happened.

Impatient as always, Tasha called the Transporter Chief. "Yar to Transporter Room. What's keeping you?"

"O'Brien here. Sorry, Lieutenant. Bit of a problem with the transporter. I'll need to run a full diagnostic on this thing before I can safely beam you up."

Tasha scowled. "How long is that going to take?"

"Half an hour at least. Plus time to solve the problem of course. You might as well make yourselves comfortable down there."

"Call me as soon as you can get us out. Yar out." She sighed. "Looks like we're stuck here, Data."

He looked around. "Any place in particular where you would prefer us to make ourselves comfortable?"

Tasha looked around, too. "It looks pretty much the same everywhere." So she simply chose a rock and sat down against it. And he followed suit.

At first they were both silent, but after three minutes and twenty-six seconds, Tasha began: "Data?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"You mentioned that you met my sister."

"Ishara. Yes, that is correct."

"Can you tell me about her? It's been so long since I've seen her. To be honest, I hadn't expected her to survive for so long. I would have thought she'd be dead by now."

He turned his head to look at her, and to try and assess her mood. "Is that why you never spoke of her? Because you thought she was dead?"

Tasha merely nodded.

"But..." Data looked puzzled. "Your parents are dead, too."

"I hardly told you anything about them either, did I?" A grimace. "Besides, I'm no more certain about their deaths than I was about Ishara's."

"Were they not caught in a crossfire, shortly after Ishara was born?"

She snorted. "Hardly. Is that what she told you?"

"Yes, so it is." Data looked at her with his usual curiosity. "But clearly you do not agree. So: would you mind telling me what happened?"

For a moment, Tasha remained silent. "I don't really know, Data. I was only five at the time, and Ishara wasn't even a year old yet. I have no recollection of a father at all – in fact, it wouldn't surprise me if Ishara and I don't have the same father. As for our mother – one day, she simply didn't return to whatever slack we called home at the time. She just never came back. So who knows: perhaps she was shot in some crossfire, and Ishara later found evidence of that. I don't know. All I know is that I was left on my own at the age of five. With a little baby-sister to take care of as well." A short silence. "But tell me: how is she doing? Is she still in the Coalition?"

"Yes, very much so. That is how we met her." And he went on with a concise description of what had happened on Turkana IV, and of Ishara's invaluable help in recovering the two crewmen, while at the same time deceiving all Tasha's old friends in order to pull off a devious Coalition plot against their archenemy the Alliance.

She smirked with disgust. "That's Ishara alright."

He regarded her with wonder. "You do not love your only sister?"

She looked up. "Do I have to? You don't exactly love Lore either, do you?"

"I am incapable of loving someone," he reminded her.

"But if you could, would you really love Lore after what he did to you and to the entire Enterprise? Do you still think well of him?"

Data furrowed his brow in serious contemplation of that question. "You are right; I would most probably not. After all, I practically killed him when I beamed him out into space. Most humans would not consider that an act of love."

She had a hesitant smile. "It was an act of love... of loyalty towards your friends, Data. Towards the people your brother was trying to hurt. To kill."

He nodded. "I suppose that is one way of looking at it."

Another silence.

"And Ishara..." Tasha hesitated. "I understand she hurt you, too."

"Lieutenant, I do not have feelings, so I cannot be hurt in that manner."

"But you said you enjoyed being with her. And talking to her. You trusted her, and she betrayed you." A sigh. "And everyone else."

"Yes. That is true," Data confessed.

Tasha averted her eyes. "I'm sorry, Data."

He frowned. "Why should you be sorry? You did not do anything wrong, did you?"

"No, but..." Another sigh. "I'd rather have you guys – my friends – to have happy memories of me."

"But we do," Data assured her. "I understand that the reason why we were all so eager to trust your sister was that we so much wanted to find something of you in her." He kept his eyes on her until she met his. "You are still very much missed, Lieutenant," he said quietly. "And all this event with your sister did, was reminding us just how much you are still a part of our crew."

Tasha's eyes suddenly misted over. "Really?"

"Yes, Lieutenant." He regarded her with some worry. She looked pained. Distressed, he decided. And he did the one thing he had learned that would make humans feel better: he bent over to her and kissed her softly on the lips.

Tasha nearly gasped. "Data!"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"What... why... what did you do that for?"

He cocked his head to one side. "Did you not like it? I was told that human friends do this to make the other feel better. Do you not feel better now?"

She laughed a little. "Actually I do. Who taught you that?"

"A friend I made on Tau Cygna V."

"I see." She heaved a sigh, and cast down her eyes. "Life goes on, I suppose. Even without me."

He looked at her pensively. "Lieutenant, is it a correct assumption that you are feeling sad?"

She looked up. "Yes, Data. I am feeling sad. Sad because everyone's life goes on, and all I can do is watch from the sideline. I'm not a part of your life anymore. Make that: of anyone's life. But I so much wish that I could."

Data looked around him. "Would you perhaps like me to create some more holodeck programs where we can explore new planets together?"

A watery smile surfaced on her face. "I would like that, yes. Especially if you could make them a bit more exciting than this boring ball of rock."

He smiled his crooked smile. "It will be my pleasure." The smile faltered right away. "Lieutenant, you still look sad. Is there anything else I can do? Would you perhaps care for another little kiss to make you feel better?"

She chuckled involuntarily. "Why not? It worked fine the first time, didn't it?"

"As you wish."

Another soft kiss on her lips. And the closeness felt so surprisingly good after all this time, that she put her arms around his neck to stop him from fully pulling back.

"Lieutenant?" he asked puzzled as he looked into her eyes from no more than 6.7 centimeters distance.

She swallowed. "Please let everyone know that I love them, too. And that I miss them." A hesitation. "Especially you."

He nodded cautiously, to avoid having their noses collide. "I will let them know."

"And you?" she pressed rather anxiously. "Do you love me, too? And miss me?"

Data considered this a moment. "I am not sure, Lieutenant. I suppose one could paraphrase my awareness of your absence as 'missing you'. But love you? You know very well that is something I am sadly incapable of."

Her face fell. Her embrace loosened.

"However," he continued. "I do trust you. Completely. And according to Commander Riker, that is the basis for both friendship and closeness."

She smiled. "Good old Riker. I dare say he may be right." Her eyes sought his. "You are my friend, aren't you, Data." It wasn't even a question.

"I would like to think so, yes," came his calm reply.

"So if we've mastered both trust and friendship, can you please let me experience closeness then, too?"

He gave her a quizzical look. "Lieutenant? What do you mean?"

"Hold me," she told him.

He did as he was ordered, and noticed how she snuggled up to him. "And now?" he inquired.

"Nothing. Just hold me. And perhaps..." She turned up her face to look at him. "I could do with some more of that feel-good-remedy your friend taught you."

He readily complied. But just as he started on a second dose, his communicator chirped.

"Captain to Mr. Data. Please join us in the Conference Room for an urgent update on our mission."

"Aye, sir," Data responded with Tasha still lying against his chest. "Is the transporter functional again?"

"The transporter?" He heard the puzzlement in the Captain's voice, and suddenly he noticed the underlying yellow grid of the holodeck again, shimmering through the bare landscape.

"Mr. Data, where are you?" the Captain demanded.

"I am on holodeck five. My apologies, sir. I believe I had my programs crossed," he responded. "I will be right there."

The communicator chirped out, and he found Tasha looking up at him.

"I am sorry, but I have to go now," he said. He untangled himself from her and got up, and pulled her to her feet as well. "I enjoyed this program very much," he told her.

She nodded. "So did I." A hesitation. "Will you be back?"

"Yes. And I will create more programs," he promised. "With other, more challenging planets for us to explore."

She smiled. "Thank you, Data." A quick kiss on his lips. "You're the best friend I've ever had."

For a long moment they just stood there, looking at each other as if they'd never want to let go of each other's gaze. But in the end, Data whispered: "I miss you, too."

And he turned. And left.

"Do you wish to save the current program?" the computer inquired as the doors hissed shut behind him.

"Yes. Please make it so."

"Program Data three saved."

The End

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