A/N: I told myself that there was no interesting material in The Battle. It's a JLP vehicle, and there'd be something for a P/C shipper to explore, but for someone who likes Data and Tasha, ain't much happening, besides more proof that Tasha takes her job very seriously and Data's devotion to duty and the truth knows no bounds, even when the truth seems to expose something terrible about someone he respects. That got me thinking. I challenged myself to write a story on such bare bones. It's a cerebral piece, short on plot, meant to ask more questions than it answers.

The last words of the captain's confession seemed to hang like a gloomy cloud in the air above Data's workstation. Tasha's frown had deepened with every passing moment. "It's obviously a fake. The captain would never fire on a ship without provocation."

On point for the away mission to the derelict Stargazer with Data on her heels, Tasha had felt the strength of the team at her back. With Geordi and Worf, they were three crewmates she trusted with her life, and more. The emotionless way Data stated the damning facts of the captain's confession brought his android nature into relief. She didn't often dwell on the fact that he was not a biological being. She had never questioned his personhood. But she couldn't deny that only an android (or perhaps a Vulcan) could divulge such disturbing news so dispassionately. It struck at the foundation of her trust in the team.

"It is not obvious. The log is recorded in the captain's voice." Data's neutrality contrasted sharply with Tasha's agitation.

"It's obvious because the captain's an exemplary officer and a man of honor."

"The captain is human, and capable of making mistakes."

"Data, it sounds like you think he's capable of doing something so… reprehensible."

He gave an almost inaudible sigh. He was becoming embroiled in an irrational quarrel, one of Tasha's specialties, over the simple fulfillment of his duties. He tried to bring her to task. "Lt. Yar, I have informed you about my discovery of the captain's personal log because it is my duty. Cdr. Riker is required to report the discovery to Starfleet Headquarters. When they reply, they may ask that the captain be taken into custody pending a court martial."

She folded her arms. His use of her rank hadn't escaped her. "But it's not going to get to that point, because you're going to figure out how the Ferengi faked the log."

"You have no basis for that supposition."

She expelled a grunt of disbelief. "I have my gut instinct. The Ferengi are involved. Of course it's a fake."

Data cocked his head. "Gut instinct. Humans often refer to this intuitive sense to justify actions with no basis in reason."

"It's called experience, Data. In our dealings with the Ferengi, they've shown themselves to be deceitful, grasping, and completely untrustworthy. They don't believe in something for nothing – it's against their religion, or something. Do you think it's a coincidence that they just handed over the Stargazer, and this is what we find?"

"I have not been asked to determine that."

"Discrediting the captain of the Federation's flagship might be a fair price to them."

"Again, pure speculation."

Her eyes blazed cold blue fire. "Are you or are you not going to prove the log's a fake?"

"Cdr. Riker has ordered me to work on authenticating it."

She put out her hands. "There you go. Case closed."

"Until I have proven the validity of the log entry, I must proceed as if it were authentic."

"No." Tasha had raised her voice. "Because you're familiar with the captain's character, you should proceed as if it were fake."

"That does not follow."

"Data." She shook her head, growing angrier by the second, while he remained glacially calm. "Let's apply the situation to someone else. If you found a personal log in my voice, confessing to a crime under dubious circumstances, would you proceed as if it were real?"

He didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Bastard." He recoiled a little from the vehemence with which she spat out the word. "After all we've been through. Don't you know me by now?"

He had not been expecting this angle. "Tasha, it was a hypothetical…"

"What else do you think I'm capable of? Lying? Deceit? You must think I'm no better than the Ferengi."

"If by better, you mean more deserving of basic rights to life and a fair trial, then no, I do not."

Two bright spots appeared on her cheeks. "You have absolutely no respect for me! What kind of a person do you think I am?"

Data used his most pacifying voice. "We have wandered far off topic, and you have extrapolated a conclusion in error. This is not about you."

"No, it's about you, and you're wrong. Dead wrong! I can't believe I ever trusted you!" She stormed out of his quarters without further ado.

He was left wondering how she'd jumped from point A to point B. In the meantime, he had two days maximum to prove the captain's innocence: one day for the first officer's report to reach Starfleet HQ, and one day for their reply. He immediately set to work.

While the captain tossed and turned in his bed six decks below, trapped in a nightmare recreation of the incident at Maxia, Data worked straight through the night. The log wasn't offering up any secrets. Voiceprints were a perfect match. Breaths, tonal inflection, and cadence were all seamless, all checked out as the captain's. Data began to examine the source code bit by bit. He had no gut feelings to rely on, but he had instincts for code, and something about the code seemed disjointed. He needed a baseline for comparison.

The breakthrough came at 0200. Once he found the key, unlocking the puzzle was a cinch, or so Geordi would put it several hours later. The key was in the timestamps. Whoever had searched the logs and snipped the words and breaths to paste together the confession had been able to obscure the original timestamps, but not erase them. His goal was to find the original posting of each individual word. That would prove beyond any doubt that the log was a forgery.

It was a simple hunting expedition now. He could devote a portion of his resources to considering the disagreement he'd had with Tasha the day before. Her temperamental personality aside, he wondered if her reaction matched those of the other bridge officers he'd had to inform. Cdr. Riker had looked dismayed, Geordi outraged, but they had kept their emotions in check. If they had felt indignant at his lack of emotional response, they had hidden it well. Tasha had let fly. Did that make her more honest, or more undisciplined? He did not wish to alienate the crew, as had happened on other postings. Would the human equation forever prove an unfathomable puzzle?

Strand by strand, the web of the message was coming undone. There were several years' worth of log entries to search, but it was a simple enough task for a positronic brain. His own problem was not so easily unraveled. What if reason fell short when it came to defending his commanding officer? His crewmates had passion to fuel their quest for justice, and righteous anger to sustain them. He had no such resources, only a superior ability to problem solve, as long as it was a question of logic or technology. And he felt no sense of victory. Once again, he found himself inadequate, even in the perfect execution of his duty.

The final snippet of evidence fell into place just after 0600. Tasha generally worked out early mornings. There was a chance…

"Computer, locate Lt. Yar."

"Lt. Yar is in her quarters."

"Is she awake?"

"Motion sensors indicate that Lt. Yar is awake."

Tasha was dressing for the gym when her door chimed. "Come in."

Data wore an expression that said everything and nothing. He wasn't contrite. He wasn't offended. He wasn't… anything. That cool, innocent face, so like a restful, empty canvas. It was difficult to stay angry with someone who could not feel anger himself, but she tried to anyway. "I'm not speaking to you."

"If I may speak to you, I came to inform you that I have proven beyond a doubt that the log was falsified. The captain is innocent."

She picked at a cuticle. "I told you."

"But your gut instinct could not clear his name. Only definitive proof…"

"Data, that's not the point. You gave equal weight to both possibilities. That's what I don't understand."

He thought it over, a birdlike turn of his head as he processed her statement. "True or false is a fifty-fifty proposition."

She let out an exasperated sound. "From what you know about the captain, you should have given greater weight to his innocence. It's the human factor."

"Need I remind you that I am not human?"

She began to pace back and forth. "It scares me to think that you wouldn't give anyone the benefit of the doubt. Not the captain. Not me. Is the truth more important than a relationship?"

He followed her restless motion with his eyes. "Given a choice between serving the truth and defending a friend, there is no contest. My friends are much more important to me. But I was not ordered to choose between them in this case. I was asked to expose a forgery."

"But you consider all possibilities to be equally valid."

"Infinite possibilities, infinite outcomes."

"I don't agree. There was only one possibility for me."

"Your instincts prove nothing." His pale gold eyes were as clear as amber. "I approached the problem impartially, and found hard evidence. The end result is that I have cleared the captain's name and spared him from an ignominious end to his career."

Tasha stopped still, lost in thought. She finally spoke. "Do you know what I would've done? Beamed Daimon Bok into the brig and wrung the truth from him through any means necessary."

"Violating several dozen Starfleet regulations," Data interjected.

"He's the one who dragged us out here. He's probably the one responsible."

"Again, mere conjecture. You would risk your career on gut instinct?"

"If it meant saving the captain, or you, yes, in a heartbeat."

"Then it is fortunate that I was able to use reason."

"Ha. Fortunate for Bok."

"Fortunate for all of us. I would not wish for you to trade your career for the captain's."

The hard lines on either side of her mouth began to soften. "Data, you're a puzzle. I yell at you, I argue with you, I call you names, and you go on as if it doesn't bother you at all. And if you ever act like it does, you do it to serve a purpose."

"It does not 'bother' me. You cannot bother me."

Her eyes were softer, too. "Like I said, you're a puzzle."

"I cannot argue that."

She seemed calmer. He ventured to probe deeper. "Do you still think I was wrong?"

"Does it matter who's right and who's wrong?"

"It does not matter to me."

"I know. That was your point all along."

"I disagree. My point was –"

She stopped him with two fingers on his lips. "Data, let's not argue anymore."

He blinked and tried to focus on her fingers, crossing his eyes and making her smile. She took her fingers away and touched the end of his prominent nose.

"Agreed."