First Place TNG Data/LaForge,
Second Place TNG Story,
Honorable Mention TNG Slash
2003 ASC
Award: The newsgroup would like to recommend: TNG General Pairing
Hope is dying last
T'Len
2003
Series. TNG, post-Nemesis
Pairing: Da/La, B-4 La POV
Code: PG-13
Feedback: tlen11@freenet.de
Summary: Memories at a lost friend
The TOS Twins and Friends:
http://tostwins.slashcity.net
Star Trek, M*A*S*H, Sherlock Holmes, Karl
May, Unser (T)Raumschiff, Die Schöne und das Biest
Unsere Zines, Links und mehr.
Disclaimer: The characters
in this story don’t belong to me. I only borrowed them for some fun. No
moneymaking, no violation of copyrights are intended. The story is mine and it
is just fanfiction. If you are under age, please stay away. If you have a problem
with this topic, then look elsewhere for your entertainment. English is not my
native language, so please be patient with my mistakes. Thanks to T’Lin for the
beta-reading. For all remaining errors, blame me.
A deep breath -
then I enter. And look around my cabin - with a wildly pondering heart. It wasn’t much destroyed during the battles
and in the meanwhile all damage has been repaired - as much as we can do here
in space. Everything is like before with one - important - exception.
Automatically my
gaze travels to your easel. A picture - a scene of Commander Riker and
Counsellor Troi's wedding - that now will never be completed. Beside this rests your violin-box leaning
against the wall. Strange, that more
and more of your belongings had been in my quarters - although we never had
officially moved
in together. You loved to be here. You found my quarters always so...
human.
„Data!“ I whisper
your name while I sit down into my
armchair and conceal my face in my hands.
I miss you so much. Hot tears run over my fingers and for the first time
in my life, I curse my eyes. Eyes that
are able to cry. Eyes that have seen your look – or… that last look in the air-lock of the Enterprise –or… your good-bye. If I still had my visor - the
world perhaps would look differently now.
But how shall I ever forget your eyes, your gaze, that said so much in
that moment, more than words could do.
We both knew it
then - it was good-bye... forever. The
certainty came with a terrible clarity.
Could - should - I have prevented it? Had there been any chance to stop
you. I fear I will torture myself with
this questions till the end of my life.
And yet I know that you couldn’t act differently. It wasn't a question
of your programming. It wasn't a question of your sense of duty. It was an act
of loyalty to our Captain. An act of friendship... of humanity.
Yes,
humanity. I remember another funeral
ceremony - years ago. Tasha’s. I remember her words about you and I know
that she was right. It is - was - so much about you that made you more human
than so many of us. And that made you so charming, lovingly.
Love - have we
ever spoken about it? Our relationship
seemed to be so natural. Your curiosity
and my loneliness - an apparently ideal combination. Wasn’t I technically also
half a machine with my visor? Perhaps
that’s why I was better able to understand you then anyone else. Your search
for yourself, your wish to arise above your programing. Then the emotion-chip brought new
experiences for you and new challenges.
I hope you knew
that I loved you. I hope at least my
quiet good-bye in the air-look told you. You simply must have known it, I cling
at this hope. Just as I cling to the memory of your eyes. To the gratitude that I
read in them. And there was more in
them - there was love., I’m sure. I only wish, I could tell you that I
understand.
And that I accept
your decision - your sacrifice..., no matter how difficult it is for me. Picard had to be rescued, no matter what it
costs. And who would ever be able to say if he had been able to distroy the
Scimitar and that damn weapon alone? Most likely you have saved all our
lives.
Fortunately, my
comrades have left me alone over the last few days. They understood my grief.
Surely they knew about us, although we never made it official. On board of a spaceship nothing remains
secret for long. But we never bothered. There is nothing about a
gay-relationship these days - thankfully. Even such an unusual couple as us
would be accepted.
There was so much
to do in the last few days, all the repairs. Fortunate for me, actually, as I
didn’t have much time to think about anything else besides warp-drives,
Jeffrey-tubes and all such things. No time to think about you - to realize that
you are gone, forever. Now the sorrow
and the loneliness comes. I know I
should go into your cabin, should organize your private things. After all I was
closest to you among the crew. I wonder if I should inform your mother - the
Android in which her personality lives.
She is your next-of-kin, isn’t she?
A soft meow,
something furry against my leg - Spot is demanding my attention. She was never
so affectionate with me before. It was
natural that I looked after her and took her to my cabin as I knew she was
unharmed from all our trouble. I owe this to you. But I slept in one of the
empty technician-quarters the last few nights.
I simply wasn’t able to rest in my bed. Although my cabin wasn’t damaged
much, I just couldn’t stand the memories. How often had we loved each other on
this bed? Yes loved... it had been more
than sex, that’s for sure.
I lift Spot on my
lap. She’s purring and I bury my face in her soft fur. I bet she knows about
you - with that sixth sense of animals, she knows. Oh God, Data - why?
The hum of the
door startles me. I’m tempted not to
answer. I wish to be alone - with my grief. But whoever it is, he or she
remains stubborn and so I finally answer after a few more signals. “Come in.”
„Data!“ for a
moment all I can feel is hope before the cruel reality penetrates my mind
again. „B-4, what can I do for you?“, I
ask, my voice shaken.
This resemblance! God, I really wish he didn't look so damn like you. Picard has let him be activated again after the danger was past. After all it hadn’t been his fault that Shinzon misused him. And now with Shinzon gone, there is no risk at all. But the sight of him hurt me, reminding me of my loss. He looks like you - yes, but he isn’t you. He can’t be like you. Especially not for me. I wonder if he knows? After all you had given him your memory. Did you also give him the special memories of us?
He looks around
curiously, or so it seems to me, even though his face shows no expression. You,
too, had been curious when we first met. In some ways, you remained curious,
fascinated by everything that was new to you. But I perceived you completely
differently that I do B-4 now. I didn't see you as our comerades did ... I saw
an energy signature that completely fascinated me. This fascination never died,
even when I got my new eyes. You were so beautiful ... so special.
I ask B-4 to sit
down and repeat my question about the reason for his visit. „B-4 has a question to Geordie“, he
answers. Somehow I’m still not
accustomed to his naive, childlike speech.
But this makes it clear just how different from you he is. Finally I encourage him to voice his
question.
He looks directly
at me, directly into my eyes - like you a few days ago. I feel goosebumps
rising on my arms. And then he speaks:
„Geordie, what is love?“
end
I would like to
dedicate this story to all heroes which died in order to guide mankind into
space - the real one and the fictional one.