Now

Lieutenant Commander Data opened his eyes. The brilliant blue sky above him and its scattered clouds came into focus, as did the concerned face of his captain, Jean-Luc Picard.

"Data? Data are you alright?" The captain had him by the shoulders and was shaking him, but his voice sounded far away, the ringing in the android's ears dominated all external sound. He abruptly sat up. He remembered the explosion. He remembered grabbing Captain Picard, and tossing him out of the way as the crude bomb landed only a few feet from them. The blast had sent him off his feet, careening him into a nearby tree, which was now coming into focus. His durable body had nearly splintered it to pieces on impact, and shards of wood were embedded in his hair and littered his immediate vicinity. He regained himself quickly and grabbed Picard's shoulder.

"I am alright, sir," he replied. "Where is Naseema?" Their small away team had been outnumbered, and swiftly overwhelmed by the ferocious Golton soldiers, and he had lost track of a few of his colleagues in the ensuing fray, including Commander Worf, and the Enterprise's Feeonix emissary compliment, Ambassador Naseema.

Picard's face relaxed some as he realized his second officer was none the worse for wear. "I'm afraid I don't know Mr. Data. I lost sight of her when the bomb exploded." Data leapt to his feet, and scanned the area for any sign of the petite ambassador. He saw none, and silently hoped she was with Commander Worf. That hope was dashed as he caught sight of the burly Klingon heading towards them, alone. Worf approached the small group consisting of Picard, Data, and the two Enterprise security officers, who had all miraculously survived the very blast that had turned the android into a two hundred pound projectile, and the tree into firewood. Another explosion rocked the battlefield near them, and they all instinctively ducked.

"We should get out of here," Picard decided. "It's evident that we are no longer welcome, and I fail to see what further good our presence can do here." He moved to tap his communicator, but Data quickly interjected, and the captain could hear the desperation in his voice.

"Captain, we cannot leave without her. If the enemy Goltons capture her, or..." he trailed off.

Naseema had just saved their lives, and while she may be nearly impossible to kill, she could bleed, and she could feel pain, and was certainly susceptible to many forms of physical, and psychological...injury, and Lore was still in the vicinity.

Data pushed the unpleasant thoughts from his mind and focused.

Picard nodded in agreement. "I have no intention of leaving her behind. Did anyone see which direction she may have headed?" he asked the other crewmen.

Worf's face, aglow with the rush of battle, became suddenly serious. "She went after Lore, towards the cliffs," he replied. If Data had any color in his complexion, it would have drained completely out at that moment. Picard's eyes widened, and both he, and Data followed Worf's arm as he raised it, motioning toward the cliffs, more than a kilometer from their current position. The two security officers, Yates and Loman, were visibly unnerved by the fear, and concern on their superiors' faces.

Picard thought rapidly. "Mr. Worf, you, Mr. Data, and I will head in that direction now, and see if we can find her...and Lore. Mr. Yates and Mr. Loman will return to the ship, and form two more away teams-" he was abruptly cut off by a bloodcurdling scream echoing across the battle stained clearing, and it turned his blood to ice. The high-pitched, unearthly sound was unmistakably Feeonix.

Data froze.

Worf's head whipped around towards the hideous noise. "It came from that direction," the Klingon glowered, motioning towards the cliffs again. He caught the wide, stricken look in the android's eyes, and added, "It could have been a battle cry." Data was unconvinced by the Klingon's assertion.

Picard smacked his communicator. "Picard to Chief O'Brien!" he commanded.

"Aye sir," the Irishman promptly responded.

Picard breathed a tiny sigh of relief before asking, "Can you get a lock on Ambassador Naseema? Beam her out of here NOW!"

The seconds crawled by before the transporter chief replied, "I can't find her, sir. The scanners can't pick up her energy field." The three senior officers looked at each other in horror, and Picard felt a terrible knot form in his gut. Data turned sharply, and headed determinedly towards the craggy bluffs.

Worf moved to follow but abruptly grabbed Data's arm, and said quietly, "Look." Data instantly honed in on what Worf was pointing at. The figure in the distance, moving towards them. The figure with blonde hair. Lt. Yates instantly pulled out his tricorder and took a long-range reading.

"It's her," he reported. "At least, it's her energy field, for the most part." All three senior officers jerked their heads to look at the young lieutenant.

"What do you mean, for the most part?" Picard snapped, his voice mixed with annoyance and dread. Data simply held his breath. He had felt rushes of panic before, but never like this. It was taking nearly all his sixty trillion processes to maintain his calm. He knew he should try to deactivate his emotion chip, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, and it probably wouldn't do any good anyway.

"I'm not sure, Captain," Yates replied. "It's her energy field, but it's weak, and...wonky. I don't know how to describe it."

"Try!" Worf barked, making both Yates, and Loman jump.

"It's fluctuating wildly. It stabilizes. Then it loses cohesion," the young officer stammered. "If we could see it, it would probably be rippling." None of them knew exactly what that meant, but not one of them thought of anything good. Worf snorted and whirled around, walking towards the blonde figure. It was Naseema. She staggered towards them, stumbling, and falling to her knees several times as she crossed the bloodied heath by sheer force of will. Worf began to move more determinedly towards her, while Picard came forward, and placed his hand on Data's shoulder as they watched, frozen in place as the image of her became clearer. She was splattered with blood, her face almost obscured by the thick, inky red substance smeared across it, her clothing torn from the brief but violent battle, her boots caked with mud. She dragged the heavy sword she'd used to cut a swath through the Golton warriors, behind her, her head lowered. As she drew closer to the small group, she looked up and met Worf's face. He gave her a grin of triumph.

"I would fight alongside you again anytime, Ambassador," he said, stepping to meet her, and squeezing her shoulder in camaraderie.

She softened her eyes and smiled up at the tall Klingon as he towered over her. "I as well, Commander, would gladly follow you into battle again," she replied breathlessly, bringing her hand up to firmly clasp Worf's arm, giving him a warrior's greeting. His eyes still shining, Worf turned his head to look at Picard, and Data, but instead of the relief he'd expected, their eyes were growing wide with shock, and he felt the Feeonix let out a deep sigh.

"Naseema!" Worf cried as her eyes rolled back into her skull, and she crumpled into his arms, exposing the hilt of the large knife protruding from between her shoulder blades. Hugging her to him with one arm, he slammed his other hand against his communicator. "Enterprise! Two to beam directly to sickbay!" the Klingon boomed, and instantly the pair were surrounded by shimmering light, and dematerialized before the horrified stares of their colleagues.

Before

The Enterprise's second officer looked over his shoulder to watch Ambassador Naseema glide off the turbo-lift, and onto the Enterprise bridge, engaged in a conversation with Commander Riker. She met his amber gaze and offered him a warm but shy smile as she descended the ramp, and took her seat alongside Deanna Troi.

"Good morning, Data," her voice was still soft, and welcoming.

"Good morning, Naseema," he replied. Data had, a long time ago, become accustomed to this daily greeting from the alien ambassador who traveled with the Enterprise, and her crew. He'd always appreciated her presence, but recently, and still this morning, her greeting felt awkward. He snuck one more glance in her direction before he turned back to the console. This was a matter, he silently decided, that required urgent attention.

The two shared a, perhaps unlikely, but close friendship since their first meeting on the holodeck of the Enterprise D, nearly a decade ago, after Picard had given Data responsibility for safeguarding the Feeonix, while she was away from the ship, believing that their shared lack of need for sleep made Data the most logical choice for the task. They quickly discovered they shared other unusual commonalities, including minimal nutritional requirements, and accelerated intelligence. Ambassador Naseema often accompanied Data while he was on the night shift. She was able to absorb and process information faster than most humanoids, and she shared his voracious curiosity, which made her an exceptional assistant, and she provided him with welcome company while he worked on his personal projects. He taught her about his programming, and how he functioned. She treated him to her lively personal perspectives of historical events. Naseema had more than fifteen hundred years of experience with humans and proved a patient teacher, reassuring, and guiding him as he navigated the sometimes rough waters of human idiosyncrasies. To Data's amazement, she'd always answered every one of his questions succinctly, and in terms he could understand without ever exhibiting the irritation that was characteristic of his other companions when his inquiries became annoying. Off duty, it had become rare to see the one without the other. The android appeared to have found himself a friend who was not only capable of keeping up with his endless stamina but of understanding him in a way that his human companions were unable to.

Even though she didn't really require physical protection, she appeared small and fragile, but she was very strong, and extremely agile. Her unique abilities made her one of the Federation's most valuable assets, and the captain had given the android a standing order to protect her during away missions. Since she accompanied most away teams as an extension of the captain and attended all the same diplomatic functions, it meant that she and Data spent a considerable amount of time in close quarters with one another, and as a result, many of the crew suspected there was more to their relationship than simple friendship. Early on, he'd found the notion ludicrous, he was not capable of romantic love, and he did his best to dissuade anyone bold enough to ask him about their status directly. Later on however, he found that it worked to his advantage to have others believe they were involved, and he had become less adamant in his insistence that they weren't. Preferring instead, to either ignore suggestions of their romantic involvement or ambiguously dismiss them. This only added to the air of mystery surrounding their relationship, and the bizarre attributes of the Feeonix and Data found he enjoyed being a part of that mystique.

Thanks to the insight of the ship's first officer, Will Riker, the android understood that as a Feeonix, she exuded sexual energy that humanoid males were attracted to. Riker had pointed out to him that even though their assumptions were incorrect, most others were nonetheless impressed that he had, as Will Riker put it, landed a babe like Naseema. The android understood why others were surprised. He was average in height as well as appearance, with a slender build. He was not tall and muscular like Commander Worf, nor was he handsome and charming like Will Riker. He didn't have the commanding presence of Jean-Luc Picard or the sense of humor possessed by Geordi LaForge. He didn't even have the endearing befuddlement of Reginald Barclay. He was often overly analytical, and tended to babble, but still the gentle Feeonix seemed to prefer his company over anyone else, and he was admittedly pleased by that.

Ever since the day Geordi had installed the emotion chip, Data's friendship with the Feeonix deepened. His new emotional responses to stimuli were often confusing, and the ambassador helped him experiment with, and understand them with inexhaustible patience. He was now able to appreciate her companionship on a new and fascinating level. He always looked forward to the time they spent together, especially time alone, and he was already, as he would often say, used to her presence, but now he was capable of a genuine emotional attachment to her. An attachment that ran deeper than the android, despite his sophisticated neural net, was able to fully comprehend. He had been accustomed to processing facts, and logical thought through a fully conscious mind, but the initiation of his dream program, a year or two before the activation of the emotion chip, had created an unconscious. Now there were thoughts, images, and bits of memory that failed to be categorized into the logical and the factual. The emotion chip added feelings into the mix. Now he had unrealized desires deep within his mind. The truth of the matter was that he was in love with her but he was largely unaware that those feelings existed within him, never mind being able to comprehend or act on them. His recent confrontation with their most dangerous enemy had changed all of that. The incident had critically altered their friendship, and he was desperate to get back what had been lost.