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konstantyaTitle: Façades: A Mirror Universe Story (Chapter 8)
Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: AU, drama, adventure.
Characters/pairings: Mirror!Data/Mirror!Tasha.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1,987
Summary: In this universe, the Terran Empire didn't fall. A tale revolving around the ISS Enterprise, with Tasha Yar still alive, Data as this century's Casanova, Worf playing for the wrong side, and a one-eyed Wesley Crusher. (Rewrite of this fic, by Pseudo Posthuman.)
All other chapters can be found here.
Chapter 8
Ten Forward was a notorious hotspot for riots and brawls. In an attempt to keep some semblance of order, security was often posted in the bar, but even so, it still remained a loud, raucous place. Data himself wasn't a fan of Ten Forward; he only appeared every so often with Geordi to socialize, or for what others might refer to as 'dates.'
Data checked his internal chronometer. He had arranged to meet with Geordi at 2100 hours, but the engineer was, so far, approximately three minutes and forty-eight seconds late.
"Need a drink, Commander?"
Data glanced up at Guinan, the proprietress and main bartender. "No. I do not require liquid consumption to operate."
Guinan smiled to herself. "Let me rephrase that," she said. "Would you like a drink, Commander?"
He thought about this, and then nodded absently.
She poured a drink into a small glass and flung it across the polished bar-top. Data caught the drink with ease, taking a small sip as he regarded her. Guinan had an intriguing, enigmatic quality—she was wise, wiser than any human he had ever known, with a keen insight in those dark eyes. It seemed that she always knew a little bit more than the universe intended.
"Waiting for Commander La Forge?" she asked.
"I assume that you already know the answer to that question."
"And I assume that's a 'yes.' " Guinan moved in front of him and leaned over the bar, lowering her voice discreetly. "I heard about the Klingon incident. I heard about a little Romulan boy running around your quarters, too."
"He is not Romulan. He is part Romulan." Data set his drink down, and then raised his eyes back to Guinan's, adding, "He is also part El-Aurian."
"I know," Guinan replied. Data gave her a quizzical look, but Guinan just shrugged in explanation. "Instinct."
Data turned thoughtful, and confessed, "I have been ordered by the captain to find a use for him…but I cannot think of one."
" 'Use'?"
"Yes. Any way he could be helpful, either on this Imperial vessel or any other. If I do not, he will be executed—a fate which concerns me."
"Let me guess," Guinan said knowingly. "You see something in him, and the Empire doesn't."
"The boy has a very high tolerance for pain and an aptitude for survival. To execute him seems illogical and wasteful. I am…intrigued by him," he admitted. "He is not driven by the desire to kill and conquer. He seems almost…innocent. To groom him to serve the Empire would destroy that innocence, yet to do nothing would destroy his life."
"Innocent, you say? Well, he sounds a lot like someone I know…"
Data tilted his head curiously. "Who?"
"You, Commander." Guinan smiled. Unlike anyone else on the ship, she had a genuine smile—no dark intentions behind it. Oftentimes, Data wondered why she stayed on a vessel that seemed so at odds with her character. "You may not have emotions," she went on, "but you've got a sense of morality about you."
"You are mistaken, Guinan. I lack ethical programming. I know of morals, but I do not possess them. In fact, my actions to date would indicate that I am, for lack of a better word, evil."
Guinan laughed. Such a bold statement for an android. "No, you're not. I bet you don't even know what evil is." Another small laugh escaped her. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I know, either." She rounded the bar and took a seat next to him, folding her hands on the bar-top. "Even the act of killing is in a bit of dispute," she said. "Hypothetically, if I let my son die instead of letting him spend the rest of his life suffering from a severe genetic condition, when he asked me to, what does that make me?"
Data frowned in confusion. "You are certainly not evil, Guinan."
"I'm not talking about me. I'm talking hypothetically. I'm talking about the intent."
Data mused. "Your intentions were…kind."
"Exactly. Kind intentions. Evil acts don't exist, Commander. It's the intentions behind acts that draw the line."
Data's brow furrowed. "You cannot justify my actions by claiming I had good intentions."
A knowing smile seemed to cross Guinan's lips, and she confessed, "Mr. Data, I think I know you better than you know yourself. You've been living among humans your entire life—watching, learning, imitating… Trying to fit in. It's not your fault you were brought up by hounds." He blinked at her, but said nothing, and after a moment, she continued. "Listen. La Forge will be here any minute, so I'll just say this once: What if you'd never known violence? Or murder? If you'd lived a life outside the influence of the Terran Empire? Don't you see what they're doing to you? You're not evil incarnate…just a mishmash of bad behaviors. Learned from the most bloodthirsty fiends in the galaxy."
Data opened his mouth to protest, but Guinan removed herself from his side in a flash. And then the doors to the bar swished open as Geordi ran in, apologizing for his lateness.
---
The Klingon incident hadn't gone down too well with the higher-ups of the Imperial Fleet. They'd ordered the Enterprise to do a sweep of Romulan and Andorian territory—which would have been boring enough on its own, but they'd also been ordered to stop at every outpost along the way. Most were dead, fried from previous Imperial attacks—but you could never be too sure, the admiral had said.
"No activity or life signs, Captain," Data reported for the fourth time that day.
Picard yawned, and tapped the arm of his chair irritably. "Proceed to the next post, Ensign."
"Sir, the sensor surge last occurred two minutes, twe—"
"Thank you, Mr. Data," Picard snapped. Data closed his mouth with a small frown.
The ship had experienced a slight surge at the last outpost, which had contributed to some abnormal sensor readings. The captain had cursed and eventually blamed Geordi, but had requested updates at ten minute intervals—which Data provided, admirably.
The bridge crew seemed to give a collective, inward sigh of boredom. It was an effective punishment, to say the least—embarrass the Imperial flagship by sending it snooping around graveyards at impulse power.
The captain suddenly stood. "Commander Riker, you have the bridge…whilst I go and hang myself," he added darkly, then stormed off to his ready room without another word. He thought he heard Will mutter something under his breath, but at that moment, he would rather pop off for a quick nap than snap at his first officer for being an ass.
Data glanced back over his shoulder from the ops. console. Tasha stood rigidly at her station, twisting her wrist every now and then (Beverly had finally been ordered to heal the bone), and didn't catch Data's eyes before he snapped his attention back around to his own station.
He was concentrating on the anomalous sensor readings when a message flashed on his screen. Curiously, he opened it.
Dinner tonight?
Love, your sweetheart xxx
Data blinked in astonishment and carefully turned his head to look at the rest of the bridge. His eyes first went to Tasha, who was talking quietly with a science officer…far away from her console. Data frowned. He began to calculate the time it would have taken Tasha to send a message and remove herself from her station, adding the variables of a conversation into account, but then his eyes caught Will Riker's—who pouted his lips in a mocking kiss. Data merely arched an eyebrow and turned back to his console.
"Approaching Outpost T'ka—"
Data's voice was cut short by an explosion that shook the bridge. The lights immediately dimmed to red and the klaxon began blaring—and it was then that smoke started to leak from the ready room.
"Captain!" Will bolted towards the ready room's doors, less out of a sense of loyalty to his captain and more at the thought of the crew being declared incompetent and being reassigned to a dilithium mine. Data rushed to the doors as well, prying them open with his hands. Black smoke flooded out onto the bridge.
"Mr. Data, get in there!" Will bellowed. "Lieutenant Yar, I want to know what the hell is going on!"
"Aye, sir!"
Data dove into the smoke and easily made his way through. He heard the harsh coughing of Captain Picard, and followed it back behind his desk. The captain was hunched over, injured and trying to breath against the smoggy blanket that enshrouded the room. The red alert klaxons were still blaring, and for just the briefest of moments, a small smirk touched the android's lips.
He hauled the captain over his shoulder and made his way back, depositing a groaning Picard at Will's feet. Beverly arrived just then, for all the good she could do, and rushed out of the turbolift to attend to the captain's filthy lungs.
"Mr. Data, what happened?" Will demanded.
He ran his fingers over the ops. console. "A small explosive device was transported into the captain's ready room. It has a Romulan sig—"
"Bastard Romulans! Set a course for—"
"Sir!" Data said, cutting him off. Will glared menacingly, but Data continued. "Commander, the device was transported internally. From a location on the ship."
"Where?"
"I have not—"
"Where? You're telling me there's a bastard Romulan on this ship and you're not doing anything about it! Where, Mr. Data?"
Data turned back to his console and tapped swiftly. "Deck thirteen, section—"
"Well, get down there! Lieutenant!"
Tasha was already in the turbolift when Data began to move toward it. Before he passed the first officer, Will halted him and snarled in his face.
"You better hope that isn't your fucking lap boy transporting explosives around the ship."
---
The entire ship was on the lookout for suspicious activity, but everyone knew that it could just as likely have been a crew member trying to assassinate the captain as it could have been a Romulan.
"Clear!"
Tasha burst out of one room on the deck and came face to face with Data—but proceeded to storm into the next room without so much as one word to him. Data frowned and followed her into a cargo bay, flipping open his tricorder to scan the room.
"No life signs," he reported.
That was good enough for Tasha. She took another quick glance around the cargo bay, then turned swiftly on her heels, heading for the door. Data intercepted her path, effectively blocking her from exiting.
"Lieutenant…" he began. Tasha stopped uncomfortably in front of him and sighed sharply. "We experienced a sensor malfunction earlier today. I think thoroughly checking the cargo bay ourselves would be a wise course of action."
Tasha sighed again and clutched the bridge of her nose. "I doubt we'll find a Romulan on board…"
"Tasha…" He stepped towards her, but she suddenly dropped her hand from her face and backed away.
"Fine, whatever," she said. "Let's just get this over with. You check over there." She pointed to the far end of the room, where only a row of boxes stood against the wall. Data looked back to see Tasha already making her way through the cargo on the opposite side, and he clutched his tricorder so hard he nearly broke it. Once again he felt that familiar trait from his father running through his circuits—a slight madness, a dull hint of violence.
He started grinding his teeth again, and as he made his way through the boxes, he found himself pushing them out of the way with a cold, dangerous ferocity. The madness was a constant. But for a fraction of a second, he wondered if it might have manifested itself as kindness without the Terran Empire coloring his programming.
-----
All other fics can be found here.
Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: AU, drama, adventure.
Characters/pairings: Mirror!Data/Mirror!Tasha.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1,987
Summary: In this universe, the Terran Empire didn't fall. A tale revolving around the ISS Enterprise, with Tasha Yar still alive, Data as this century's Casanova, Worf playing for the wrong side, and a one-eyed Wesley Crusher. (Rewrite of this fic, by Pseudo Posthuman.)
All other chapters can be found here.
- Façades: A Mirror Universe Story -
originally by Pseudo Posthuman
originally by Pseudo Posthuman
Chapter 8
Ten Forward was a notorious hotspot for riots and brawls. In an attempt to keep some semblance of order, security was often posted in the bar, but even so, it still remained a loud, raucous place. Data himself wasn't a fan of Ten Forward; he only appeared every so often with Geordi to socialize, or for what others might refer to as 'dates.'
Data checked his internal chronometer. He had arranged to meet with Geordi at 2100 hours, but the engineer was, so far, approximately three minutes and forty-eight seconds late.
"Need a drink, Commander?"
Data glanced up at Guinan, the proprietress and main bartender. "No. I do not require liquid consumption to operate."
Guinan smiled to herself. "Let me rephrase that," she said. "Would you like a drink, Commander?"
He thought about this, and then nodded absently.
She poured a drink into a small glass and flung it across the polished bar-top. Data caught the drink with ease, taking a small sip as he regarded her. Guinan had an intriguing, enigmatic quality—she was wise, wiser than any human he had ever known, with a keen insight in those dark eyes. It seemed that she always knew a little bit more than the universe intended.
"Waiting for Commander La Forge?" she asked.
"I assume that you already know the answer to that question."
"And I assume that's a 'yes.' " Guinan moved in front of him and leaned over the bar, lowering her voice discreetly. "I heard about the Klingon incident. I heard about a little Romulan boy running around your quarters, too."
"He is not Romulan. He is part Romulan." Data set his drink down, and then raised his eyes back to Guinan's, adding, "He is also part El-Aurian."
"I know," Guinan replied. Data gave her a quizzical look, but Guinan just shrugged in explanation. "Instinct."
Data turned thoughtful, and confessed, "I have been ordered by the captain to find a use for him…but I cannot think of one."
" 'Use'?"
"Yes. Any way he could be helpful, either on this Imperial vessel or any other. If I do not, he will be executed—a fate which concerns me."
"Let me guess," Guinan said knowingly. "You see something in him, and the Empire doesn't."
"The boy has a very high tolerance for pain and an aptitude for survival. To execute him seems illogical and wasteful. I am…intrigued by him," he admitted. "He is not driven by the desire to kill and conquer. He seems almost…innocent. To groom him to serve the Empire would destroy that innocence, yet to do nothing would destroy his life."
"Innocent, you say? Well, he sounds a lot like someone I know…"
Data tilted his head curiously. "Who?"
"You, Commander." Guinan smiled. Unlike anyone else on the ship, she had a genuine smile—no dark intentions behind it. Oftentimes, Data wondered why she stayed on a vessel that seemed so at odds with her character. "You may not have emotions," she went on, "but you've got a sense of morality about you."
"You are mistaken, Guinan. I lack ethical programming. I know of morals, but I do not possess them. In fact, my actions to date would indicate that I am, for lack of a better word, evil."
Guinan laughed. Such a bold statement for an android. "No, you're not. I bet you don't even know what evil is." Another small laugh escaped her. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure I know, either." She rounded the bar and took a seat next to him, folding her hands on the bar-top. "Even the act of killing is in a bit of dispute," she said. "Hypothetically, if I let my son die instead of letting him spend the rest of his life suffering from a severe genetic condition, when he asked me to, what does that make me?"
Data frowned in confusion. "You are certainly not evil, Guinan."
"I'm not talking about me. I'm talking hypothetically. I'm talking about the intent."
Data mused. "Your intentions were…kind."
"Exactly. Kind intentions. Evil acts don't exist, Commander. It's the intentions behind acts that draw the line."
Data's brow furrowed. "You cannot justify my actions by claiming I had good intentions."
A knowing smile seemed to cross Guinan's lips, and she confessed, "Mr. Data, I think I know you better than you know yourself. You've been living among humans your entire life—watching, learning, imitating… Trying to fit in. It's not your fault you were brought up by hounds." He blinked at her, but said nothing, and after a moment, she continued. "Listen. La Forge will be here any minute, so I'll just say this once: What if you'd never known violence? Or murder? If you'd lived a life outside the influence of the Terran Empire? Don't you see what they're doing to you? You're not evil incarnate…just a mishmash of bad behaviors. Learned from the most bloodthirsty fiends in the galaxy."
Data opened his mouth to protest, but Guinan removed herself from his side in a flash. And then the doors to the bar swished open as Geordi ran in, apologizing for his lateness.
The Klingon incident hadn't gone down too well with the higher-ups of the Imperial Fleet. They'd ordered the Enterprise to do a sweep of Romulan and Andorian territory—which would have been boring enough on its own, but they'd also been ordered to stop at every outpost along the way. Most were dead, fried from previous Imperial attacks—but you could never be too sure, the admiral had said.
"No activity or life signs, Captain," Data reported for the fourth time that day.
Picard yawned, and tapped the arm of his chair irritably. "Proceed to the next post, Ensign."
"Sir, the sensor surge last occurred two minutes, twe—"
"Thank you, Mr. Data," Picard snapped. Data closed his mouth with a small frown.
The ship had experienced a slight surge at the last outpost, which had contributed to some abnormal sensor readings. The captain had cursed and eventually blamed Geordi, but had requested updates at ten minute intervals—which Data provided, admirably.
The bridge crew seemed to give a collective, inward sigh of boredom. It was an effective punishment, to say the least—embarrass the Imperial flagship by sending it snooping around graveyards at impulse power.
The captain suddenly stood. "Commander Riker, you have the bridge…whilst I go and hang myself," he added darkly, then stormed off to his ready room without another word. He thought he heard Will mutter something under his breath, but at that moment, he would rather pop off for a quick nap than snap at his first officer for being an ass.
Data glanced back over his shoulder from the ops. console. Tasha stood rigidly at her station, twisting her wrist every now and then (Beverly had finally been ordered to heal the bone), and didn't catch Data's eyes before he snapped his attention back around to his own station.
He was concentrating on the anomalous sensor readings when a message flashed on his screen. Curiously, he opened it.
Dinner tonight?
Love, your sweetheart xxx
Data blinked in astonishment and carefully turned his head to look at the rest of the bridge. His eyes first went to Tasha, who was talking quietly with a science officer…far away from her console. Data frowned. He began to calculate the time it would have taken Tasha to send a message and remove herself from her station, adding the variables of a conversation into account, but then his eyes caught Will Riker's—who pouted his lips in a mocking kiss. Data merely arched an eyebrow and turned back to his console.
"Approaching Outpost T'ka—"
Data's voice was cut short by an explosion that shook the bridge. The lights immediately dimmed to red and the klaxon began blaring—and it was then that smoke started to leak from the ready room.
"Captain!" Will bolted towards the ready room's doors, less out of a sense of loyalty to his captain and more at the thought of the crew being declared incompetent and being reassigned to a dilithium mine. Data rushed to the doors as well, prying them open with his hands. Black smoke flooded out onto the bridge.
"Mr. Data, get in there!" Will bellowed. "Lieutenant Yar, I want to know what the hell is going on!"
"Aye, sir!"
Data dove into the smoke and easily made his way through. He heard the harsh coughing of Captain Picard, and followed it back behind his desk. The captain was hunched over, injured and trying to breath against the smoggy blanket that enshrouded the room. The red alert klaxons were still blaring, and for just the briefest of moments, a small smirk touched the android's lips.
He hauled the captain over his shoulder and made his way back, depositing a groaning Picard at Will's feet. Beverly arrived just then, for all the good she could do, and rushed out of the turbolift to attend to the captain's filthy lungs.
"Mr. Data, what happened?" Will demanded.
He ran his fingers over the ops. console. "A small explosive device was transported into the captain's ready room. It has a Romulan sig—"
"Bastard Romulans! Set a course for—"
"Sir!" Data said, cutting him off. Will glared menacingly, but Data continued. "Commander, the device was transported internally. From a location on the ship."
"Where?"
"I have not—"
"Where? You're telling me there's a bastard Romulan on this ship and you're not doing anything about it! Where, Mr. Data?"
Data turned back to his console and tapped swiftly. "Deck thirteen, section—"
"Well, get down there! Lieutenant!"
Tasha was already in the turbolift when Data began to move toward it. Before he passed the first officer, Will halted him and snarled in his face.
"You better hope that isn't your fucking lap boy transporting explosives around the ship."
The entire ship was on the lookout for suspicious activity, but everyone knew that it could just as likely have been a crew member trying to assassinate the captain as it could have been a Romulan.
"Clear!"
Tasha burst out of one room on the deck and came face to face with Data—but proceeded to storm into the next room without so much as one word to him. Data frowned and followed her into a cargo bay, flipping open his tricorder to scan the room.
"No life signs," he reported.
That was good enough for Tasha. She took another quick glance around the cargo bay, then turned swiftly on her heels, heading for the door. Data intercepted her path, effectively blocking her from exiting.
"Lieutenant…" he began. Tasha stopped uncomfortably in front of him and sighed sharply. "We experienced a sensor malfunction earlier today. I think thoroughly checking the cargo bay ourselves would be a wise course of action."
Tasha sighed again and clutched the bridge of her nose. "I doubt we'll find a Romulan on board…"
"Tasha…" He stepped towards her, but she suddenly dropped her hand from her face and backed away.
"Fine, whatever," she said. "Let's just get this over with. You check over there." She pointed to the far end of the room, where only a row of boxes stood against the wall. Data looked back to see Tasha already making her way through the cargo on the opposite side, and he clutched his tricorder so hard he nearly broke it. Once again he felt that familiar trait from his father running through his circuits—a slight madness, a dull hint of violence.
He started grinding his teeth again, and as he made his way through the boxes, he found himself pushing them out of the way with a cold, dangerous ferocity. The madness was a constant. But for a fraction of a second, he wondered if it might have manifested itself as kindness without the Terran Empire coloring his programming.
-----
All other fics can be found here.
