Configuration
Maljek, currently in the Brig, tries to understand the chaotic nature of the Enterprise. Meanwhile, a computer virus threatens to overtake the ship.
(Maljek's introductory "episode")
Maljek was far, far out of his league.
He had been captured by an alien ship, for one thing. The USS Enterprise, a ship he knew was most despised among several Romulan captains, had been keeping him in its Brig. The other, arguably much worse thing, was that he had completely betrayed the Romulan empire.
He was going mad, surely. Only the most insane, desperate, depraved Romulans did something like this. There were plenty of stories of soldiers, even commanders going rogue. He had heard a particularly recent one of an admiral gone berserk, endangering his entire crew when he defected to this very ship. In the end he had committed suicide in his own insanity. Maljek was a poor excuse for a Romulan- but he wasn’t that bad, was he?
No, he tried to reason with himself, he hadn’t acted out of insanity. There was good reason for his actions. He just… he didn’t think they would have taken him this far. What could he have done differently? It all began with…
The android. A true, highly intelligent, fully autonomous android. Maljek had already found it hard to believe when his captain called for him. The rest of the crew seemed to try their best to ignore him in the first place. But then he saw him- the android was stunned at first, unable to fight back as the guards restrained him. It was too good to be true. Maljek was suddenly given responsibility of supervising him, surely an easy enough task.
Safely locked onto the table, it was easy to ignore the first few demands to let him go. Any prisoner would dislike his captivity. The captain had made it very clear he was to stay focused, thus Maljek chose to ask him relevant questions- where his ship was headed, what their mission was. The android deflected his initial straightforward questions, then he mentioned his lack of emotions, and all focus went out the window. Maljek had to know everything he could. How much storage space did his artificial brain have? How was information stored? What material was his skin made of? His hair? Did he have to eat? Sleep? How did it feel to be an android? Did he feel “tired” with less power, or was that even a concern in the first place? Could he feel his insides working? Control them at will?
Data (such a fitting name for an android) was actually answering his questions too. Maljek was downright giddy, logging every detail as fast as he could. Eventually the android took notice, commenting that he was, “Much unlike any Romulan he had met before.” Maljek felt a quick jolt of insecurity down his spine- perhaps he was getting too off topic. He returned to asking about ship duties, mission objectives, things the captain would want to know. But Data seemed to have spotted a weak point, then detailing his general life in Starfleet. Maljek was instantly hypnotized by his story, entranced as he explained bizarre adventures, his relations to other humans, and his most desired goal: he wanted to be human.
The idea had caught him so off guard, Maljek admitted something he had promised to never tell again.
“I always wanted to be an android.” He hadn’t even realized he said it out loud, until Data quirked his head to the side in response.
Before he could backtrack, he received the absolutely devastating command from the captain. Data was to be destroyed, deconstructed to mere parts. Maljek was given full responsibility of that, too. He had tried, really, to do the right thing. He had gotten as far as opening the hatch on the back of his head. But as he stared at the blinking lights, he could only see the mesmerizing patterns of circuits, of possibilities that would be forever lost if he went through with it.
The next moments felt like a blur. Maljek shut the hatch and began undoing Data’s restraints. He would bring him to the shuttlebay, and the Enterprise could beam him once he was out of the ship. They used the service crawlways- Maljek knew them well. He could find the fastest ways through, and they would be less likely to be caught. Once they were in the shuttlebay Maljek was able to easily shut off the alarm system. After all, the alarms were supposed to be a safety measure, not a security measure. But to be sure, he did a simple hack on the shuttle status subroutine. It would ignore any shuttles leaving, telling anyone monitoring them that nothing had changed. Hopefully, that would buy enough time to see Data to safety.
It felt dreamlike, when the android stopped to say goodbye to him. Data would remember him, he said, and Starfleet would be thankful for his actions. One day, there might even be peace between the Federation and the Romulan empire, and he would visit him then. For the first time in so long, Maljek felt alright about the future. He would hold onto this memory, that there was someone waiting to visit him again. Life on this warbird could be bearable, even.
But the process had taken too long. A phaser shot past him, barely missing his head. At the entrance of shuttlebay was his captain, wrathful, shouting all manner of curses in his direction. Before he could even think Data pulled him into the shuttlecraft, quickly activating the systems and moving out. Adrenaline flooded his system as Maljek heard the captain dishing out orders for full phaser fire. In mere seconds he was on the other side of the conflict, now under attack from everything the ship had to offer.
He flinched as he heard a booming drone above him. He could barely hear Data assure him the Enterprise was getting ready for transport, and they would most likely lock onto the area within the shuttle. The last thing he knew was the android grabbing his arm, before a near-deafening thunder surrounded him.
Then- silence. Maljek kept his eyes shut, terrified of whatever had taken place. He convinced himself he was dead. But he felt Data, still holding onto him, and could hear the hum of a ship, one in a different key now. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and as he shakily looked up, he found there were humans looking back at him.
Maljek was now aboard the USS Enterprise.
Perhaps, in hindsight, the android was clever enough to fool him into doing all of that. Should he have really believed a Starfleet officer would be so kind to him?
He hadn’t spoken when the captain came to inform him that he was presumed dead by his ship. That was what they had told him, at least. Maljek had a feeling they didn’t want to escalate their “incident” with a Starfleet vessel. They had left him behind, stranding Maljek light years away from Romulan territory. He didn’t need to speak- both knew it was impossible for Maljek to go back. However, strangely, the captain had assured him that his effort to save Data had placed him in rather good favor. Maljek regarded his assurances with suspicion, but the Federation was well known for lauding its peaceful nature over others. Maybe he could get used to living in a prison.
The Brig doors opened, breaking Maljek out of his thoughts. This was someone new; he didn’t recognize her from the transporter room. Upon closer inspection, her irises were completely black- a Betazoid. He shifted in his seat, squirming at the idea of his mind being read. This must be an interrogation, then.
She gave him a warm smile, one that he interpreted as well practiced.
“Hello, Maljek. I hope you’re feeling better after what happened yesterday.”
He didn’t answer. Partially because she could read his thoughts anyway, and partially because he couldn’t quite find the strength to talk just yet.
She drew closer to the forcefield. “Data has been telling us all about you. We’re thankful you brought him back to us.”
Still, Maljek did not answer, though he produced a muffled whine from his throat. That only seemed to encourage her to press on,
“My name is Troi. I’m the ship’s counselor.” Counselor? “It would help if you could give us an account of what happened on your ship.”
“You’re Betazoid. You already know.” Finally he spoke, unable to stand the imagined feeling of fingers prying around his brain. She gave an unexpected chuckle in response, only confusing him more.
“I’m only half Betazoid, Maljek. I can’t read your thoughts- just feelings,” she assured him. He couldn’t help but tilt his head at that. Reading feelings could be useful, yes, but that surely made for a poor Betazoid. He sat still now, at least satisfied that she wasn’t combing through his memories. “What use is this interrogation, then?” he asked.
She seemed somewhat bemused by that statement. “It’s no interrogation, Maljek. We only need to compare your account with Data’s. If everything checks out, you’re free to go.”
Free to go. Maljek didn’t exactly like that. Federation space was almost unknown to him, and he doubted whether he could adjust to an entirely new planet as well as he could to a new starship. He wondered, then, what might be the best thing to tell her. Knowing the Federation’s emphasis on peace, she would most likely react positively to the actual truth- that Maljek had betrayed his ship to save Data. That, however, would put him on a fast track to being shipped off to some random colony. He could lie and make himself seem more invested in personal gain, but he was talking to a telepath. Half-betazoid or not, he wasn’t about to risk a useless endeavor. That left him with simply obscuring details; the only Romulan skill Maljek had mastered.
“The android was given to me to study, then dismantle. Destroying it would be foolish, so I sent it back to you.” That was the least he could give, but of course, the counselor was going to press him for more.
“What made you want to save him? That’s an awfully big risk.”
“...It was highly advanced technology. It would be wasteful to destroy it, yes?” he tried to state it like it was obvious.
“But you were ordered to dismantle him, correct?”
“Yes.”
Each of his answers would be short, curt. This would, hopefully, give her less details to pull at, but also minimize how much time it would take for him to respond. One of his biggest problems was taking too long to give a successful response, ruining any alibis with a clear sign of deliberation.
With relief he saw that Troi seemed to have to think about her next question, confirmation that his method was working.
“You talk like he’s just a piece of technology, but Data told me you were rather excited to speak to him.” A pang of annoyance shot through him- depending on how much detail Data gave her, this was going to be much harder. The half-betazoid continued, “and you had a very passionate argument with your commander in his favor.”
“H- It is a piece of technology. It would be useful. All the memory in that positronic brain-” he cleared his throat, steadied his hands, “It is a worthwhile thing to study, is he not?”
He tried not to wince at the near-instant realization of his mistake, but perhaps it was just oxymoronic for a Romulan to control his emotions.
“So your commander wanted to dismantle him, then. She wasn’t as interested as you were in cybernetics?”
“She… She did want me to study it first.”
“With the interrogation, correct?”
Why did she have to keep picking at these little details? “...Yes,” he said, but then he thought her eyes were narrowing in suspicion, “And by taking it apart. I was to study its circuitry, its functions.”
“Well,” she casually shrugged, “why not dismantle him in the end, then?”
Why not? “Because he’s the only android I’ll ever meet!” He didn’t notice his voice rising, spurred by the suggestion of dismantling Data once again. “I’ve been waiting for a chance like this for ages, and they demand I cast him away? With that kind of technology, I could-” Maljek caught the expectant look on the counselor’s face, and stopped himself. “Oh. How clever of you.” He straightened up, taking care to lower his voice.
“You could what?” she asked, of course.
“It is not relevant to your interrogation. What matters is that I did not want the android destroyed, and I was foolish enough to save him. Are we through with this exercise?”
Troi crossed her arms, looking conflicted. “That’s going to complicate your situation, Maljek,” she stated.
That was exactly what he wanted. More stalling, more time. Now he could- Ah! He had another opportunity here, he realized. “I hope it does,” he replied. That was mysterious, and the truth. The half-betazoid would certainly sense that he was pleased with himself, then go off to tell the rest of the crew.
Yet she was still here, and still looking oh-so-disapprovingly at him. What else could she dig at?
“You’re lying about the interrogation,” she stated, much to Maljek’s frustration.
“The interrogation happened. Data will tell you that.”
“But you’re lying about some part of it.”
Maljek grit his teeth. “What exactly do you want with me?”
The counselor shifted to a, surprisingly, gentler stance. “Maljek…” What was with that concerned tone? “We’ve had many encounters with Romulans, as you might know. We had a defector once.”
“He was insane,” he interrupted; a kneejerk reaction.
“He was scared,” she replied, “and you’re scared, too.”
Maljek became uneasy again. He did not like being compared to that defector.
“Maljek, you’ve just had a massive change in your environment. You’re unable to contact anyone from home, and it’s very unlikely you’ll be able to visit anytime soon. It’s a lot to deal with.” Where was this coming from? “We can’t in good conscience send you off without making sure you’ll be alright.”
He stood there, momentarily dumbfounded. He could come up with no response to this sudden concern for his personal feelings, until he remembered she had indeed introduced herself as Counselor Troi. He was being assessed- was this because of Admiral Jarok? Did they want to ensure he was captured alive?
That worried him even more. The scramble for an explanation was making him panic. Authority checking in on his mental state had never ended well.
“I won’t answer any more questions,” Maljek said, folding his arms and sitting down on the cell’s bed. His other methods hadn’t worked; this was the safest.
The counselor only looked down at him, considering her next move. Eye contact was getting bothersome to maintain- those dark irises loomed over him with tempered disappointment. But, thankfully, the next thing she said signaled an end to Maljek’s interrogation.
“I wish we could talk more, but I have somewhere to be. Please, try to understand, we only want to help you,” she said as she turned to leave, “I’ll be visiting you tomorrow.”
He watched her through the doors, relaxing once he was alone again. He had to think about the next day, though- what would he say? She was already suspicious of him, and not in the way he wanted her to be. Maljek would have to come up with a way to dig himself out of one hole and into another.
Deanna mulled over what she had learned as she walked into the meeting room. She was the last one to enter; Picard nodded to her as she sat down.
“What have you learned about the Romulan?” He asked, getting straight to business.
She took a breath.
“He’s more scared than anything. Our conversation wasn’t exactly productive.”
“Do you think he has any alternative plans we need to worry about?”
She hesitated. Light suspicion hung over the room. “...No. I don’t think so, at least. I sensed that he was rather unsure of himself. But he talks like he isn’t.”
“So he’s bluffing?” Riker asked.
“In a way. I can’t tell you what for, but it seems he wants to stay on the ship.”
Now intrigue rippled through the prior suspicion. It was a familiar feeling to Deanna, especially in the meeting room. Speculation was a natural part of these kinds of talks, and a good sign of crew morale.
“Did he say anything more on Data?” Geordi spoke up.
“Oh, he’s very defensive about Data. That’s one thing I know for certain.” Romulans tended to have much stronger emotions than most, owing to their Vulcan ancestry. It was part of why she found Maljek so easy to read. “At first he called Data an ‘it’, but later he slipped up and started using ‘he’. Like he didn’t want me to think he was as attached as he really was.”
Data spoke, “He would know his statement would be easily falsifiable. I recall he corrected his crewmates on my specifications several times.”
“Sounds like a typical engineer,” Geordi interjected, “Can’t stand someone being wrong about his area of expertise.”
Deanna nodded his way. “He stopped using ‘it’ when I asked why he went against his captain’s orders to dismantle Data. That’s when he jumped to Data’s defense, but then he said he could use that technology for something before he stopped himself.”
“And we have no idea what for,” Riker said.
“All I know is he’s scared, interested in android technology, and lying about some aspect of his interrogation with Data.” Deanna mused for a moment, as did the room; there was still a specific energy to Maljek she was trying to understand. “Part of me is still suspicious, but… another part of me thinks he’s a bad liar.”
Geordi raised his eyebrows. “A Romulan, bad at lying?” Again the speculative mood of the room shifted, now with hints of mildly entertained confusion. She noted with a slight sense of pride a briefest spark from Worf, who had been glaring through most of the conversation- the Klingon found the idea at least somewhat funny.
“I know, I know,” she tried to explain, “When someone lies- even if they’re good at it- there’s a very specific feeling. Everything Maljek said felt less like a lie and more like… a nervous guess.” So many of his statements were preceded by trepidation, then said with a spark of unease, a pattern she had come to associate with impulsiveness.
“I’m beginning to think we aren’t getting any closer to understanding his motivations,” Picard found an opportunity to move on; Deanna sensed a slowly building impatience. “For someone who’s bad at lying, he does have us talking in circles.”
She picked up on his want to move on. “I’d like to talk to him tomorrow. Even if we don’t know his motives, he’s frightened. We might have better luck if he relaxes a bit.” And I don’t want him to become like our last defector, she thought. She had sensed similar feelings from the admiral when he was on board.
The captain contemplated for a moment. “We can’t keep him in the Brig forever- even after what he’s said, he did bring Data back. Some basic quarters seems like a sufficient trade.”
Before Worf even spoke, she could feel the aura of reined-in hostility around him (Romulans, after all, were not his favorite subject) spike a bit, just before he interjected with, “I would have two guards at his doors. We don’t know what he’s after yet.”
With just a second of subtle hesitation- he never did like encouraging anything militaristic- Picard followed with, “Agreed, but one should suffice. Considering past situations, I believe it’s best to play it safe.” Then she felt the quick shuffling away of those feelings, routine when Picard needed to switch to the more mundane tasks of the ship. “Now, as many of you have noticed, we’ve had some issues with multiple systems on the ship ever since we investigated that shuttlecraft. Geordi, have you pinned down what’s lagging our systems?”
“Not quite,” he frowned, “Whatever it is, it’s like it knows we’re looking for it. Everytime we track it down in one system it jumps to another.” The slightest wave of annoyance ebbed from him, “I think we’ve got something that’ll catch it soon, though.”
“Good,” Picard nodded, “We won’t need anything above warp factor 5 anytime soon, but see to it that it doesn’t drain our engines too much. Is there anything else?”
With no other important topics, the meeting was dismissed. Deanna noticed Data had quickly made his way out, as if he had something in mind. Curious, as he always held a sense of mystery to her, she caught up to him.
“And where are you off to in such a hurry?” she asked, playful tones in her voice.
“I am going to talk with Maljek again. Perhaps, if he shares further information, we can make a better decision on what to do with him.” They entered the turbolift together, each stating their respective locations.
“Good luck with that,” she huffed, “He doesn’t seem very talkative.”
Data tilted his head at that comment, brow subtly furrowing. “That is not consistent with my experience.”
“Oh?” He had mentioned the Romulan asked him a great deal of questions, though she imagined they were more in line with an interrogation than a conversation.
Before they reached their destinations, the usual hum of the Turbolift suddenly died, coming to a complete stop. Almost immediately the voice of an obviously annoyed ensign came from the intercom. “Sorry, it’s been doing this all day… Give us a few minutes to reset it…” With nowhere to go, Deanna nodded to Data to elaborate on his encounter with Maljek.
“I stated that Maljek asked me many questions. The majority of them seemed to have nothing to do with what Romulans are typically interested in.”
“Like what?” She was curious now, “I’d imagine any information would be useful to them.”
Data looked dubious. “I do not think they are very interested in whether or not I produce saliva. Nor are they interested in whether I have synthetic organs to mimic an organic body, or have pure machinery inside, or if I preferred one option over the other. He asked many questions regarding personal opinion and experience, including whether I ate, how I liked the texture of my nutrient paste, whether I enjoyed eating organic food, or if I was capable of doing such, whether I had to charge myself, or was self-sustaining, whether I slept-”
She opened her mouth to stop him from going on one of his endless lists, but found herself equally baffled by these questions. Food preference? How he slept? Data was right, none of this was especially useful in this context. He continued listing more questions (there were almost none about Data’s emotions, surprisingly) until she finally had to interrupt him.
“Data, Data-” The android finally paused. “Were there any relevant questions he asked?”
“He briefly refocused himself on Starfleet’s missions, and my purpose here, but was quickly distracted again when I discussed my experiences onboard,” he paused, then added, “But- I am still thinking about one particular statement he made. When I explained my personal goal of becoming human, he replied that he wanted to be an android.”
Details clicked together in her head. Possession was the first thing that came to mind- it would, strangely, not be the first time Data’s body was taken over. That would also explain all the questions about personal experience, if Maljek was going to use him. “Do you think he’d try to steal your body?”
“I have considered it,” he replied. Deanna could have sworn he looked reluctant while saying that. “He was also able to hack into the Warbird’s shuttlebay system, covering any sign of a shuttlecraft leaving. While I do not know if he has technology capable of a transferring process, it is becoming a likely theory to me.” Both of them were aware of just how deceptive Romulans could be. Deanna always hoped for the best, but it was perfectly believable that anything Maljek did was all part of an act- even if he had an odd way of going about it. “That is why I plan to talk with him further, and see if the proverbial mask slips.”
The Turbolift hummed to life again, machinery making a few odd clunking noises before resuming motion. Deanna pondered the situation as they moved downward. Data was often a bit too trusting, even if he was intelligent. But there wasn’t enough evidence to prove what Maljek’s intentions were- If this wasn’t a trick, Maljek had upended his life to save Data’s. If it was, there was the high possibility they were already in danger.
“Data,” she said, as the doors opened and he stepped out, “Good luck.”
“I will be careful,” Data assured Troi, then continued down the hall.
Data was well aware he was not skilled in detecting trickery. However, he reasoned that Maljek talked an awful lot around him, and was more likely to provide contradictory details that way. If he did not detect something suspicious right away, he could still recount the conversation to the crew, who would better analyze it.
As he entered the Brig he saw the Romulan stand up, looking happy to see him- a good sign.
“Good morning, Maljek. Did you rest well?”
Maljek did not acknowledge the question, but he seemed to have plenty of energy.
“Say, there was a Betazoid here earlier. Do you know of her?”
Data nodded. “Troi is a close friend of mine. She is the ship’s counselor.”
He cocked his head to the side, clearly intrigued. Data noted that Maljek appeared rather enthusiastic, despite his less than ideal circumstances.
“She claimed she was only half-Betazoid. Is that true? She cannot read thoughts?”
“Her mother is Betazoid, and her father was human. She can sense the feelings of those around her, which allows her to excel in her position as counselor.”
Every word seemed to intrigue him more. Maljek was now pacing around the cell, considering Data’s answer.
“It’s- It’s really true she holds a position like that? Even if she’s only half-Betazoid?” he asked. Data found the question rather strange. “As I had just stated, it does not interfere with her duties.”
“But- I mean, the crew is fine with it?”
Again, the question was strange to Data. He recalled Geordi’s encounter with the Romulan Bochra on Galorndon Core, and how Romulans considered anything they considered abnormal to be unfit for society. Perhaps Maljek had assumed this tenet to be somewhat universal.
“The Federation and many humans value diversity, and strive to be open-minded. Most, if not all, would not think to judge Troi simply for what she is.”
“Right, right…” Maljek nodded, as if he was only now remembering details about the Federation. Before he could continue the lights in the Brig flickered, the nearly imperceptible hum of machinery becoming uneven. For just a second Data saw the forcefield buzz with static, but the Romulan seemed to have not noticed, first distracted by the lighting.
“I came to ask about a statement you made while we were on the Warbird,” Data said, aiming to distract Maljek from any further technical malfunctions, while also completing his original goal. “You stated while interrogating me, that you had wanted to be an android. Could you clarify what-”
“Hey, hey- That’s-” Maljek frantically interrupted, looking about as if someone would overhear. “That’s just- It’s a foolish thing I thought when I was younger, okay?” Data did not expect such a vehement response- one that could support the idea that Maljek intended to take him over. “I am simply clarifying the nature of your statement, which-”
“Which nobody here needs to know about!” his tone became exasperated, “Please.”
This kind of reaction indicated there was something there, but Maljek was clearly trying to evade it. Perhaps, due to the fact that Romulans typically preferred to stay disguised until the last possible moment, a more direct approach would get an answer. He tried to picture Riker- not outright intimidating in his approach to conflict, but just forceful enough to persuade things his way. Data took a step forward and looked straight at the Romulan.
“Do you want my body, Maljek?”
Maljek froze, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. His eyelids, Data noted, turned from their usual light brown shade to a muted green. Data waited for a response, but soon took the persisting silence as a confirmation that he had discovered the Romulan’s true motives. “There have been other attempts to possess or replace my cognitive functions, and I will not allow-”
“Oh! Oh, you meant-” Maljek cleared his throat several times, “O-Of course you meant that, yes, alright.” As he continued to stammer on Data watched his hands become quite animated- a habit he had observed when he was first being interrogated. “I mean- why would I... Is such a thing possible?”
“Do you wish to upload your consciousness into my body?”
“No, no, I… Has this happened to you before?”
Data would not answer that- he did not want to give any indication that the process was possible. Instead, he would continue pushing the subject, and perhaps Maljek would reveal a hint of his motivation.
“If you were provided the means to have an android body, what would you do with it?”
Maljek was still nervous, though if Data’s perception was correct, there was a certain hopefulness in the way he looked at him.
“I would… I would be a better Romulan, for one. Smarter. Stronger.” Maljek stared off into some imaginary distance, then focused back on Data. “I bet you always know the right thing to say. An android’s never wrong about anything, right?”
Maljek had a very different idea of androids, then. “That is not always the case,” he replied.
“But you have access to so much information. Can’t you… wouldn’t you just know?”
“Having knowledge and being able to apply it are very different things. I am still learning what it means to be human, and I will most likely continue learning how to be human as long as I live.”
Maljek narrowed his eyes, fidgeted with the harness of his uniform. “...And if you can’t be human?”
“Then I will have become more than what I am, and that in itself is enough.” Data had the answer ready, along with his own question. “What will you do if you cannot be an android?”
He received no answer at first, but Maljek took a sweeping view of his cell, eyes settling downward, where he was sitting. Once he had an answer he met Data’s eyes again, brow low. “Then I will simply be what you see before you. I have become closer to nothing.”
“Are you sure?” That last statement appeared untrue to Data, considering the previous day’s events. “You are currently talking with an android. Is this not, in a way, a step closer to your goal?”
“You are on the other side of a force field,” Maljek said derisively, “I find it difficult to believe I can come any closer to you before I am sent on my way.”
“You find it difficult to believe, yet your choice of words indicates this is an experience you desire,” Data said, “Is that related to why you saved me?”
Maljek’s expression faltered- was Data getting closer? The Romulan was thinking, choosing his words carefully. “I have learned not to believe things that are too good to be true.”
“Would our escape from the warbird also be considered ‘too good to be true’?”
His brow held its place, but the rest of Maljek’s glare softened. “...I don’t know,” he admitted, then asked, “What are you going to do with me?”
“That depends on your motivation,” Data began. He honestly did want to spend more time with Maljek. Data may not have had the same intuition humans did, but a certain logic told him that Maljek did not want to be an android merely for the physical benefits. “There are several colonies you could choose to live on, and many methods of transport if you prefer to travel. However, if it is revealed this is part of a plot against the Federation, you will stand trial in court.”
Yet Maljek did not react to either option. “You should understand, Data, that it does not make a difference for me,” he replied.
It was the little hints of intrigue that made Data curious. A Romulan who wanted to be an android, who gave confusing answers to every question, who saw a colony and a prison as an indifferent fate. “It makes a difference to me,” he said, and he watched surprise flash over Maljek’s sullen expression. Now he only stared at Data- and Data waited.
“...I really don’t want to take your body,” he sighed. “I thought I could learn from you.” Data hoped this was finally an honest confession, though he would have to check with the others. “But if I can’t become more than what I am, you might as well send me back to my ship.”
“Sending you back to your ship would be difficult.”
“Hm... That’s true, isn’t it?”
Data did not have a chance to break the silence that followed- the ship’s systems did that for him. Once again the lights flickered, and the entrance doors opened and stuttered in place. The ship’s technical problems were returning, and most likely spreading at this point. “We will have to continue our conversation later. I believe I am needed in Engineering.” He turned to leave, then paused, deciding he would tell Maljek one more thing.
“It is good to know you do not want to use my body. I will inform the others.”
Now he was set to leave. Geordi would most likely be waiting-
“Ah- Data,” Maljek called. Data stopped once more and turned back.
“...I’m glad to have met you. Even if it was for a short time.” He saw Maljek smile a bit, even though his brow was still low. Data recalled that he had always been puzzled by the idea of something being “bittersweet”- a combination of happiness and sadness, but paradoxically was not simply feeling both emotions at the same time. Perhaps, he speculated, this was an example. “It does not have to be short,” he replied, but the Romulan only turned his head away.
Geordi was getting nowhere fast.
Sure, he was able to track down any issues just fine. There were backups of everything, from research files to critical systems, that could be restored any time. But this bug was downright stubborn. He’d gone as far as resetting every affected system at once, only for an ensign to reluctantly inform him that yet another system was struggling again.
After what felt like hours of staring at code, Data’s glow entered his periphery, giving him a much needed excuse to look somewhere else.
“Before you ask,” Geordi held a finger up, “I have not made any progress.”
“I was able to deduce that from the ongoing technical issues that are still present,” Data stood by his side at the main console, “Are you aware the Brig is now experiencing several technical difficulties?”
Geordi groaned, no longer bothering to hide his frustration. “Well, now I am. Help me out here, Data.”
The two settled themselves at the console, where Data near-instantly brought himself up to speed on the ship’s numerous problems. Now that he had some assistance, Geordi let his mind wander- only then did he remember their mysterious passenger.
“Say,” he said, “How’d that little interrogation go?”
“I would not describe it as an interrogation,” Data then paused, as if he had some trouble picking the appropriate word, “But I believe the conversation went well.”
“So, do you think he’s on our side?” Geordi asked.
Again, Data had to consider that. “I would say he is on my side.”
Geordi stared at the files, picking at the numbers in his head, before processing what Data said. “Just yours, huh?”
“He does not seem interested in harming anyone,” Data clarified.
“Glad to hear it,” Geordi refocused himself to the task at hand. He could definitely do without some convoluted Romulan plot today. To his left he could hear yet another ensign apologizing for the turbolift’s malfunction, clearly tired of repeating her script to the passengers. Other engineers had stopped bothering to interrupt him with updates on lighting, instead designating one screen to a map of all the power failures plaguing the Enterprise.
“There is a buildup of processes in one of the nacelle control subsystems,” Data began, “It is steadily increasing-”
Before he could finish the lights flashed on and off- the entire ship swayed, a dying hum droned above them, and one panel made a particularly worrying buzz, as if static was ricocheting through it. Geordi steadied himself, crouching to the floor in case steadying himself on the console proved dangerous.
Once the lights returned his badge beeped.
“Geordi, are you alright?” It was the captain. “What’s the situation down there?”
“Not too pretty, captain,” he answered. “Power’s been restored, but that wasn’t a good sign. Be ready to switch to emergency power.”
“Understood. I trust you’re already attempting to find solutions?”
“Only for the past few hours, captain.”
People had steadied themselves now. Geordi stood up and made his way over to Data.
“I’ll reorganize over here and get some teams to focus on priority areas. Data, gather some technically-minded security personnel and bring them over- if the ship keeps acting up like this, they might just need your help getting here.”
Data nodded, and the two set to work.
With nothing better to do in the Brig, Maljek could only analyze the past interrogations. He was currently grappling with the suspicion that his ship had purposefully left him, considering the explosion was simply too convenient. Data’s part in the whole scheme was still a mystery though. His commander might’ve taken advantage of the situation, but that had to require a decent amount of luck to pull off.
This ship was a mystery itself, too. Every crew member here was just strange. He knew the Federation had a habit of allying itself with anything it could, but apparently he overestimated their crew standards. An android made sense, and maybe one or two other outliers… Perhaps the Enterprise had confounded other commanders due to its sheer unpredictability.
The lights flickered again. He could just barely hear some kind of commotion echo through the walls, but it wasn’t loud enough to make out. A voice then sounded from the guard’s badges, commanding them to some other part of the ship. Maljek wondered if he should just lay back and close his eyes, before he felt the ship suddenly lurch to the side, power barely staying on. He heard a distinct pop as the force field flashed white and dissipated.
Maljek did not move. He sat there, and merely waited for something to happen. The guards would come back soon, most likely. Or the forcefield would restore itself. He wouldn’t want to be crossing the border when it turned back on, right?
…A better Romulan would try to escape. Or take advantage of the situation. Hesitant but curious, he stepped up to where the force field would be. There were no other prisoners, no other guards. No one to keep him in his proper place. He leaned forward to check the control screen, still nervous about being found outside the cell. Tapping the controls only gave him various ineffective-sounding beeps.
He continued standing still. He should attempt to escape, right? That’s what you were supposed to do in this situation. But- he really didn’t want to. The Brig was quiet, uneventful. Part of him wanted to wait it out, but another part felt oddly exposed. What would this crew expect him to do?
Maljek took a cautious step forward. He reasoned he would “attempt” an escape- there was sure to be someone in the hall who’d catch him, so he’d simply fulfill his role as prisoner, be brought back to his cell, where they would fix the problem and return to normalcy.
The lighting continued to flicker as he wandered about, picking no particular direction. There were no crew members here, strangely. A set of doors opened, nearly making him jump, only to jam halfway. Was the ship usually in this state? It felt eerie, only setting him more on edge as he continued wandering.
Finally he heard footsteps- still far, but definitely behind him and approaching. Already set off by the state of the ship he panicked, ditching his original plan in favor of hiding. He hurried forward, spotting an entrance to this ship’s maintenance tunnels. Wasting no time he opened the hatch and shoved himself in, only realizing that the entrance was so easy to open simply because it was another victim of the ship’s various malfunctions.
Maljek backed himself further into the tube and stayed still. He did not know if whoever was behind saw him, and did not want to give himself away. But as the footsteps approached they did not stop, and once Maljek judged it safe he peeked through the gap of the tunnel entrance.
Stalking away from him was a Klingon- A Klingon? How many different species were on this ship? Now Maljek found the tunnel system a much more inviting route. Being caught and sent back to the Brig was one thing; he wasn’t about to risk an encounter with that Klingon (even if, admittedly, Maljek thought the uniform made him look far less intimidating.).
Thus, Maljek picked another random path through the tubes, eventually coming across a ladder. Down was just as good a choice as up, though he could only hope the Klingon wasn’t headed to the lower decks. For a few minutes he found himself somewhat relaxed, simply dropping down a few floors and following the tubes back out into another hallway.
Down here the lighting was worse. It looked like emergency power was being used here, dull floodlights intermittently lighting brief sections. He could hear something in the distance- crew members, he guessed. Maljek supposed that he ought to stop wandering now and get his “capture” over with.
He was distracted by the various technical oddities when he entered the engineering room. It seemed he blinked and was suddenly surrounded by panicked crew members, all frantically rushing between screens, completely ignoring his presence. Maljek was dumbfounded for a moment- a woman shouted from above that the ship’s directional controls had just gone, and something was accessing and corrupting their previous flight pattern data. Another cried out that their files were corrupting faster than they could be recovered.
One engineer- set apart by a metal visor covering his eyes- was marching through the chaos as best he could, listing out orders. Finally he spotted Maljek, who simply stared right back at him, caught. Then Maljek squinted; his skin was not artificial, dashing his hopes of there being another android on the ship. The engineer gave him a halfhearted questioning gesture, prompting Maljek to say something.
“I, uh,” he stuttered, unprepared to speak, “The forcefield. It turned off. So, um, I thought… I should escape, or something.” He could barely think about what he was saying, thrown off by everything around him.
“...So you came to engineering?” the human questioned, which only made Maljek flounder more. He hadn’t thought anyone would ask questions about it. They were just supposed to grab him and put him back.
“Well, you were supposed to catch me, and- and turn the field back on. So it would be normal again.” Another shout nearly interrupted him. “Is- Is your ship… usually like this?”
“We try not to let it be,” he grimaced, then tilted his head, “Are you saying you want to be in the Brig?”
Thankfully, before Maljek could answer, the engineer’s badge beeped. “Geordi, how much time do we have left?”
“At this rate, the virus is gonna have all our systems corrupted in three hours. Once it gets to our communications, we won’t be able to stop it from replicating to other ships.”
Maljek perked up when he heard that. “Your ship got a worm?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him, “I didn’t think they made ones that could affect ship systems… Or ones that could corrupt them so much.” His thoughts were briefly preoccupied by the subject of viruses. They were rare in Romulan space, due to the paranoid security of their systems, and the punitive measures that came from messing with any matter of classified material. He had learned that firsthand when he managed to remotely scrape a few mission files from his father’s Warbird- part of the reason he had been kicked to various ships.
“Hey,” Geordi nudged his shoulder, snapping him out of his memories, “How much do you know about this kinda thing, anyway?”
“Of viruses?” Maljek would normally consider this another trick to get something out of him, if it weren’t actually relevant. “Well, uh, ship system exploits have been around for a while, but free-roaming viruses are relatively new. You didn’t pick up any shady subspace messages, did you? I heard they’ve started appearing on transportable information devices- don’t you use microtapes? That gets pretty interesting. You can disguise an awful lot of programs on one of those-”
Maljek realized he was rambling. He folded his arms the moment he did, tucking his hands out of site. “But that’s- that’s all I know. I don’t keep track of that subject.” Try as he might to deflect, Geordi raised an unconvinced eyebrow, studying him. How much could that visor see?
“So you wouldn’t know how this ‘worm’ managed to hop from a microtape to half our systems in minutes?” Geordi asked.
Executable file that launches upon its connection with a larger database. “I haven’t studied your system.”
“Maybe you’d know a little something about how it keeps multiplying and overloading our systems?”
That’s a simple prong attack. Wouldn’t he know that? “Keep better track of it.”
Geordi shrugged. “...I doubt you’d be interested in how it keeps making up new programs, then. I mean, we only get a dozen or so every minute, and they all do the same thing.”
Finally. Maljek wanted nothing more to do with- He realized what the engineer had said, and whipped over to peer at the closest screen.
“You’ve managed to find a polymorphic worm?!” he exclaimed, forgetting everything prior in favor of this latest discovery. “No wonder you can’t capture it. It must be like trying to destroy a takar ant nest one ant at a time. All those new programs are just shed skin, see, and tracking down the original- useless! It doesn’t exist anymore. Or, if it does, it’s indistinguishable from the rest. What exactly are your sca-”
Maljek saw that the engineer was grinning, even holding back a laugh. The first thing Maljek thought of was his hands and where they were (near his shoulders, a bad sign), but Geordi only said, “No matter what ship they’re on, engineers are all the same.”
He had been tricked, just as he thought he would be, into revealing that he did indeed know more about this. He cursed himself for what must have been the thousandth time, for letting his interests get the better of him yet again. “If you already knew, why didn’t you just say so?”
“And miss out on that impassioned explanation?” he was still grinning, as if the situation around him wasn’t wildly deteriorating. “But really, I’d appreciate some help here.”
Before Maljek could retort he claws dig into the back of his and pull his uniform collar back. He was forcibly turned to be face-to-face with the very Klingon he had been trying to avoid earlier.
“What are you doing outside the Brig?” he growled as Maljek tried to pull away.
“Escaping, apparently,” Geordi answered for him. “Look, uh, Worf, Maljek happens to know a few things about viruses…”
The Klingon snapped his head towards him, disbelief clear on his face. “I know, I know,” Geordi put his hands up defensively, “I was gonna ask the captain first.”
“We have three hours before our life support systems fail, and you want to trust him to solve it?”
“I don’t want to-” Then Maljek realized what the Klingon had just said, “Excuse me?”
“Do you have a better alternative? Dying from a computer virus doesn’t sound very honorable to me.”
Maljek was still reeling from the sudden time limit, while the Klingon tightened his grip. He turned his glare back to Maljek. “How did you escape in the first place?”
“The-” he squirmed again, “The force fields stopped working. None of your doors work either.” Of course the Klingon did not like that answer. “Did you say three-” Maljek tried to say, but Geordi went ahead and tapped his badge. “Captain,” he began, “Listen, our Romulan guest might know how to solve our virus issue down here. Would you say three hours of life support is good enough reason to take his advice?”
There was a pause. Maljek felt his heart pounding.
“You have my approval. We’re counting on you, Geordi.”
Geordi looked expectantly at Worf, who begrudgingly conceded and released his grip. The Romulan took a few seconds to collect himself, shot a quick glance to Geordi, took a step forward… then dashed for the exit. He managed to duck under Worf’s swiping grab, then collided with Data as he entered Engineering.
“Maljek,” Data stood, unmoved, as the Romulan collected himself, “You are outside of the Brig.”
“Data,” Maljek had the slightest hint of a grin upon seeing him, before refocusing, “Are you aware this ship’s life support systems are going to fail in three hours?”
“Two hours, fifty-seven minutes, and eighteen seconds,” he corrected, “What are you doing outside the Brig?”
“Escaping,” Worf answered for him, grinding his teeth.
“Wouldn’t you?!” Maljek snapped back, “I didn’t agree to any of this!” Geordi could see waves of energy emanating off him, like ripples of anxiety being shaken off him.
“Escape would be difficult,” Data began, “I came to inform everyone that the majority of the shuttlebay’s systems have been damaged.” He then turned his attention to Maljek. “I did not think you would be leaving so soon.”
That seemed to be the key to changing Maljek’s mind- Geordi watched his shoulders drop slightly, the jittering waves of movement growing more steady. “I mean- I guess I don’t want- I don’t have to,” Maljek stammered.
On his side, Geordi thought.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry, Data,” Geordi stepped to his side and gave Maljek a few pats on the shoulder. “Maljek knows all about viruses, see.” He purposefully ignored how the Romulan whipped his head his way, most certainly glaring daggers into him. If the Enterprise was going to blow in under three hours, he didn’t have many qualms about taking advantage of this.
Data, unaware of their earlier conversation, sounded almost pleased, “Then you might be able to stop the virus from taking over the ship.”
“Exactly,” Geordi agreed, “Now, where do you suppose we start?”
Maljek couldn’t believe it. The damned engineer was not taking advantage of him, but he sure thought he was. No, Maljek would ensure Data stayed alive- along with himself, if escape wasn’t an option.
“You would…” he had to gather himself, “Limit processes on all non-essential programs. That will prevent them from being corrupted any further. Do you have any computers that aren’t connected to your main system? You can use one as a terminal.”
“Some of the educational PADDs are on their own system. They might be unaffected,” Geordi said. He stepped away to direct some other engineers to retrieve some. Data stepped to the main console, accessing whatever systems were still accessible and limiting what they could do. Maljek stayed next to him, peering over the screen. He couldn’t help but notice the Klingon still sulking, watching him from his post at the wall. No matter- soon a bundle of various tablets were delivered to them. Maljek picked one up. The screen showed some fish, presumably native to Earth, attempting to tell him how to spell “Enterprise”.
“Wipe any extraneous programs from these,” Maljek handed it to Data, “We’ll repurpose them.” It felt odd to direct people he had just met, let alone his captors, but the threat of life support failure was doing a decent job of encouraging him. He grabbed another PADD and turned to Geordi. “If you coax the virus onto this, we can use it as a test environment.”
“And not risk damaging our systems,” Geordi nodded.
“How does the worm behave? Polymorphic code can change itself before an algorithm detects it, but I believe we can tempt it away from your important systems.”
“Tempt it?” the engineer raised his eyebrows, “You’ve been describing this virus very poetically, you know.”
Maljek felt a spark of defensiveness. “What I speak of is clear though, is it not?”
“Hey, nothin’ wrong with it,” he said. “You should hear how I chat with the computer.”
There it was again; the strange way this engineer mixed compliments and insults, so that Maljek could not tell which way they leaned. It was distracting, sitting in the back of his thoughts while he continued explaining. “If we create system routes that lead nowhere, the worm will attempt to propagate into them, to no avail.”
“Distracting it,” Geordi was quick to follow, “While we deconstruct it in our test environment.” Maljek caught himself getting excited, having someone engage with his interest like this. Distraction was an apt metaphor. His hands tapped at his sides, but he began to reason there were more important matters than stilling them.
Making the code went swiftly, with both Data and Geordi working against the clock to put everything together. Nearly all the routes of the ship could be fitted with alternate paths, and just as predicted, the majority of the worm’s expansions disappeared into them. They could add several more hours to their time limit- though at the speed Data was capable of working, they wouldn’t need it.
“What’s that?” Geordi pointed to a microtape Maljek had pulled from a PADD.
“A copy of the worm, of course,” Maljek held it up for him to see.
“You wanna keep a copy of it around?” he asked, “That’s just asking for trouble.”
“Know thy enemy,” Maljek replied. “Keeping a record of the worm allows future analysis. And…” he slipped the microtape into his pocket, “it makes for a good souvenir.”
Geordi raised an eyebrow. “I trust you won’t spread that thing any further?”
“I certainly won’t be sticking it into any consoles without using a buffer environment, if that’s what you’re asking. Do your ships always automatically accept whichever files are presented to them?”
Geordi shrugged off that last comment- this kind of thing had only happened one other time- and prepared the main console for what would hopefully rid the ship of the worm. The device the three had rigged together looked like nothing he would ever think to make- They had connected more PADDs to each other as needed, until the “terminal” was a mess of wires and tablets. Their experiment, however, had been a success. That “test environment” PADD had been restored to its former function, once again boasting fun facts about planets and stars.
Now came the real test. They had set the program to launch the second it connected with the console, the same way the worm had. Any behaviors of the worm would be stopped and its code deleted, allowing backups to restore everything to normal function.
He plugged it in, and waited.
The hum of the ship changed its tone. Geordi focused on the electricity moving from the PADD to the console to the rest of the ship, like flickering waves. The lights that had been pulsing in and out suddenly hastened, then slowed. Finally they seemed to reset, blacking out then humming back to life, as did the rest of the ship; console screens that had been inactive sprung back into action as Data read out the computer’s returning power.
“Memory usage is returning to nominal levels. Several functions are coming back online.”
The engineering room came back to life as well- a few people cheered as conversation filled the room, congratulations were passed around, and curious glances were thrown at the Romulan. Geordi didn’t blame them. It was Maljek’s foot that was moving now, rapidly tapping in place, sending odd rhythms into the floor. But he didn’t blame him for that either; that was only the simple rush you only got when you didn’t get an error back.
He heard a doorway open (for once it wasn’t background noise to him; they actually worked now) and waved captain Picard over as he strode in. Worf joined his side as the senior officers grouped together.
“You’ll be pleased to know the turbolift is working smoothly again,” Picard commented, “I’m glad our guest had some good advice.”
“Y’know, I don’t think he’s all that bad,” said Geordi.
“I spoke with Maljek earlier today,” Data began, “I have reason to believe he is innocent, sir.”
Maljek stilled himself as the group turned to face his way. Picard considered the Romulan before him. “Perhaps… he could do with a room in deck seven. With-” he put a hand up before Worf could speak, anticipating his concern, “a guard, who will continue to monitor him.” Worf would settle for that, though Geordi could hear a low growl from his throat.
Maljek, however, was looking around the room- first, at the bridge crew, then the other engineers- as if he was slowly realizing something. “Is this…” he turned back to Geordi, who had stepped closer to him, “Is this some kind of collection?”
“What?” Collection?
“I mean, does he…” he briefly pointed at Picard, “Does he collect people like us?”
Confused by such a loaded statement, Geordi turned to his captain, who looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not. “Excuse me?” Picard asked.
“I think I understand now,” Maljek began to pace, hands twitching at his sides, “Because it’s just too good to be true that the Empire believes I’m deceased, right? I wouldn’t put it past one of the commanders to plan something with you- Everyone knows about the Enterprise, they would have seen your crew.” Other engineers, already alert and curious about the presence of a Romulan aboard, were now staring as he continued to prattle on. His hands became animated again, rotating up and down as he held them near his chest. Maljek’s expression turned to disappointment as he turned back to Data. “I suppose the android was merely bait after all. They knew I wouldn’t be able to resist helping him. And shuttlebay would be the best way out, so they planned the whole explosion, and that way it appeared as though I died betraying the empire- Which, of course, I did, but the point is you got what you wanted, and they’re completely justified for killing me.”
He explained this all with complete confidence, and faced Picard as if he was expecting confirmation. Geordi didn’t know where to start; the idea of the crew being a “collection” had already thrown him for a loop, but every single sentence had added more and more bizarre connotations. The Enterprise purposefully working with a Romulan ship? A commander faking the death of one of their crewmen? He knew Romulans preferred trickery, but this was downright conspiratorial. Yet there was no accusatory tone in his voice, as if he was simply stating the obvious.
Picard was struggling to find a response. Geordi didn’t blame him, considering he couldn’t think of anything either. If this was still some kind of trick, he had no idea what Maljek’s end goal was supposed to be.
“I would not call it…” Picard began, almost warily, “a collection.”
“Oh, whatever you wish to call it, you don’t have to hide it anymore,” Maljek started again, “I could probably get used to it. Unless- Is it like this all the time? Or was that just to observe my behavior? I really-”
Geordi sensed he was only going to keep rambling if they let him. Perhaps the best thing to do was to simply get him out of the engineering department.
“How about-” He grabbed Maljek’s shoulders and walked him over to Data, “you just go see your new quarters, alright?”
Data stepped forward, guiding Maljek out and through the halls. This did not stop him from continuing to ask Data questions, and Geordi could hear, “I’m to replace Admiral Jarok, correct? I hope your captain does a better job this time…” slowly fade as they left.
Now Geordi looked to Picard, who gave some sort of hopelessly lost gesture at the situation. Picard turned to Worf, who simply stated, “It is a very bad explanation, sir.”
“...Certainly,” Picard added, “For now, I think we should be getting back to the bridge. I assume you can handle things from here.” He nodded to Geordi, then exited to the hall, Worf following beside him. Geordi pictured the captain in his ready room, contemplating the idea of his crew being a “collection”.
Left with several system restarts and maintenance checks for the rest of the day, Geordi kept thinking over Maljek’s strange conspiracy. Mostly just that first line- people like us. What did that imply? He remembered Bochra, and the way Romulans tended to value themselves. He thought about the way Maljek’s hands twitched whenever he spoke. Us.
“Captain Picard is not a collector.”
“Are you sure? I’ve heard the Enterprise purposefully seeks strange phenomena.”
“That is correlation,” Data said as they reached where Maljek’s quarters would be, “I would know the difference as well. I was previously captured and briefly made part of a collection by a trader.”
“You were what?” Maljek asked, before the doors opened and revealed his new living space.
His eyes drifted across the room. There was a neatly folded bed, presumably with standard sheets, a bathroom to the side, every surface sparse and untouched. The permanence of the situation was starting to sink in. The excited rush he felt just earlier hadn’t fully worn off yet, but was transforming into something else. He felt restless, suddenly, unnerved at the idea of moving anything, of breaking the potential energy of the room and proving he would live here.
“Oh. There’s really no going back.” He meant to ask it as a question, more casual, but it came out as a flat statement.
“That is correct,” Data answered, tone as gentle as ever.
Maljek did not want to be in the room anymore. He did not want to be on this ship- but did he really want to return to the Warbird? What was waiting for him, back home? Hadn’t he known this was his inevitable conclusion?
No, he thought. In the original conclusion, he would not have been left alive. This had to be limbo, then. Maybe he really was supposed to die in that shuttle; maybe he had unwillingly cheated death. “What am I doing here?” he half mumbled, lost in thought. He heard Data step closer behind him.
“You are standing within your quarters.” Oh- he would have to be more specific. “I mean,” Maljek faced the android, “What do I do now? What do I do… here?”
“Do you wish to stay here?”
He froze. He could say yes. His mind supplied a dozen reasons why he shouldn’t, but he could. Data was staring at him, piercing amber eyes waiting for an answer. Maljek found himself studying the texture of his artificial skin. Silver and gold, he thought.
“...I suppose, for now.”
Maljek couldn’t help but feel he was only digging himself further into this hole, but maybe he had already gone too far down. If he was dead and buried to the Romulan Empire, could he start an afterlife here?
He still felt threatened within the room. “What exactly do you do here?” he asked, somewhat impulsively- anything to distract him.
“As second officer I have many duties aboard the Enterprise,” Data replied, “...It would take a substantial amount of time to list them all.”
Maljek only shrugged. “My schedule’s open.”
Deanna watched from afar as Data continued recalling his time on the Enterprise- he and Maljek had walked into Ten Forward over an hour ago. She had been stealing quick glances, making sure she wouldn’t be caught staring. Maljek, much to her surprise, radiated nothing but contentment, letting Data list nearly every task he had done in engineering since he started duty on the Enterprise.
“Your sundae’s melting.”
She tried not to jump; Riker had come up behind her while she was distracted.
“I’ve been stuck on the bridge all day,” he nodded towards Data and Maljek, “You’ll have to fill me in.”
She grinned as she waved for him to sit down and leaned closer. “This is the longest I’ve ever seen Data talk,” she mock-whispered, “Maljek is outright infatuated with him.”
And there was the sprinkling of Will’s amusement, as Deanna was used to, drops of entertained delight scattering around him. “You don’t think he’d try running off with our android, do you?”
She had to laugh- he didn’t know the half of it. “Why don’t you go and ask?”
“Really? I thought we were just going to watch.”
They both chuckled as they made their way over, sundae abandoned to melt away. Data was (of course) still talking when Will approached the Romulan.
“Maljek,” Will put a hand on the corner of their table, “I heard you did some good work today. William Riker, second in command.” He held out his other hand to shake, which Maljek stared at for a few seconds before recognizing he was supposed to offer his own hand as well. He was a bit intimidated- a common response to Riker’s confidence, Deanna had found.
“Greetings,” Maljek nodded. His tone had changed, putting on a more serious front while Deanna could feel curiosity and trepidation bubbling underneath. His attention shifted to her. “I apologize for the difficulty of our previous conversation. Romulans do not share information easily.”
“I figured that much,” she smiled.
“If you are now more willing to share information, there is still much about you that I would like to clarify,” said Data. “There are several things you said-”
“All in due time, Data,” she interrupted, sensing a rising anxiety from Maljek. “Besides, I think he enjoyed asking you the questions.”
“Which we both agreed needed more clarification,” Data tried to reason.
“Those questions… Will you still be visiting me tomorrow?” Maljek asked. There was apprehension simmering under his layers of outward emotion.
“Yes,” Deanna replied, “Especially after what you’ve been through today.” Her tone was still playful, but firm; one of the more successful ways to make sure a client came to their appointment.
“Um,” he looked to the side, “For the record, I did lie about the interrogation.”
“But about what?” She already sensed some relief- perhaps Maljek had been wanting to clear this up.
“I mean- it wasn’t required. My captain never asked me to do that.”
She tried not to- but Will started chuckling, and she couldn’t help but laugh along. It was sweet, she thought. “Oh, don’t worry,” she said, before Maljek’s uneasiness sparked again (his eyelids flushed with dark green; an interesting response), “You’ll have plenty of time to get to know Data.”
“And the rest of the crew, I imagine,” Will added. “Stick around- I’d like to see how well a Romulan plays poker.” He gave Maljek a final pat on the back before moving back to the bar, where the neglected sundae was now dribbling onto its surface. Deanna followed, leaving Maljek and Data to their prior conversation.
“Do you think he’d be good at poker? I told you he was a bad liar,” Deanna asked as she put her forgotten dessert back into the replicator.
“That’s exactly why I’d like to see him play,” Will replied.
“I see,” she nodded, “Worf’s been on a winning streak, hasn’t he?”
“Well…” he waved a hand dismissively, but she felt her own delight poke at his ego, both grinning as they left Ten Forward.
His quarters were dimly lit when Maljek returned. Moving from ship to ship was something he was used to, but he felt particularly odd not having even a bag to set down. The only thing he had was his uniform, which, presumably, would soon be replaced with Federation colors.
What of it? He told himself this was all temporary as he took his coat off, leaving it folded on the desk. Boots discarded as well, his body felt monumentally heavy as he laid back in his bed. Something poked at his thigh- he pulled the microtape containing the polymorphic worm from his pocket and held it above his head. It was for the best that his situation was temporary. Never before had he been on a ship so chaotic, one that did not wait for death but purposefully sought it out…
Maljek closed his eyes. He’d have to research colonies, places to go. Not that he had to, but he should. His mind swam with images of the last few days, of shuttlecrafts, of androids and humans and Klingons. Sleep was overtaking him, despite all his thoughts. Maybe he could stay a while longer. All he needed, after all, was a place to sleep and the hum of an engine- nothing more.
Notes
- During my first watch of TNG, I found it odd that the Enterprise nearly fell so quickly to a computer virus in season 2. However after some research for the initial start of this fic, I realized that viruses and related were still in a somewhat early stage- Contagion aired in 1989, the Morris Worm had its reign just a year prior, and antivirus was just getting its start in the mid to late 80’s. So I liked the idea that there was this sort of equivalent in the Star Trek universe; viruses and worms being “rare” and “dangerous” programs able to jump from ship to ship and wreak havoc light years away from where they began.
- I based the virus on various sources- the Morris worm, Dark Avenger, 1260, and DDoS attacks.
- I have never written anything this long about anything ever. I started the first draft of this fic back in September of 2023, so that's 7 months of writing. Huge shoutout to Star Trek, autism, and adderall.