The Complication

Mummy Dearest

Author's Note: I want to give a huge shoutout to Charlotte S. for her wonderful piece of fanart inspired by Data and Tasha in Chapter 71. You can find her work on Twitter @CharlotteyarOoO. It's fantastic!

Plugging right along with our story, this chapter is a bit of a different setup. I'm really trying to give this series an episodic feel but with longer story arcs (similar to DS9).

In this instance, this one-off gives us a chance to explore the characters from a different perspective.

Thank you for your patience as it's been a few weeks since our last update. I wanted to drop the next several chapters close together for reasons that I believe will become apparent once you read them.

Yes, that means you are going to be receiving a freighter load of DaTasha content this week in honour of Ms. Crosby's birthday!

Thank you for your continued support!

-X-

The door slid open, and Deanna stepped inside her darkened quarters. The advantage of having quarters located on Deck 9 meant that she had some of the largest windows on the ship.

They provided a soft glow of artificial lighting from the outer rim of the saucer section that flooded the room with a gentle light.

Deciding to keep the lights off, Deanna kicked off her boots and stepped over to the replicator. Deanna tapped the orange button in the top right to access her quick meal pre-programmed favourites.

There was a soft shimmer.

Deanna breathed a sigh of relief as she felt the warm, sweet taste of a raspberry hot chocolate hit her lips.

After a long, luxurious sip, Deanna set it down on the counter as she made to start her evening routine. She would have about an hour to herself before joining Beverly and Tasha for girls' night.

"Computer, dispatches," Deanna ordered.

"Four new appointments. Two requests to reschedule appointments. An invitation to speak at the Starfleet Psychology Symposium on Risa and three communiques from your mother," the computer announced.

"Play back the letters from my mother," Deanna requested.

She sat down at her vanity and unpinned her hair.

"Hello little one!" her mother's voice rang out. "I'm just arriving on Starbase 11. It's one of those diplomatic to-dos but I'm not expecting much fun for the next fortnight. The whole thing's been planned by a Vulcan, and they clearly haven't learned a thing about hosting in the last hundred years."

As Deanna combed her hair, she listened to her mother prattle on about her expectations for the diplomatic conference on Starbase 11.

While some people dismissed Lwaxana Troi as nothing more than a flamboyant aristocrat, the truth was she had earned her position as a prominent Federation diplomat by virtue of her skills.

Telepathy aside, Lwaxana had a way of bringing people together (and cutting through bureaucratic red tape when necessary).

In fact, one of her proudest accomplishments had been brokering a ceasefire agreement between the Vetrushion and Heploid peoples. After eighteen days of disagreement, Lwaxana had simply set the delegates down together in a jacuzzi with enough champagne and chocolate to make everyone happy.

Her tenacity and willingness to try the unorthodox made her a much sought-after negotiator.

At least she's keeping occupied. Deanna mused.

Deanna tapped the top drawer of her vanity. It slid open and she chewed on the inside of her mouth while trying to decide on a shade of lippy.

"Second transmission. Stardate 41412.7," the computer rattled off.