#holodeck training

Data x Gender-Neutral Reader

First Chapter

Or read it on AO3

When you arrive in the arboretum again, Seral and Keiko are standing in front of one habitat, discussing something. Only then do you see that Seral has brought the bee-like creatures you saw flying around his lab yesterday. They seem busy pollinating the Sonara orchids at the moment.

When you walk closer, you can actually hear the hum of the flowers mixing with the buzzing of the bees. They make the pollination sound like a piece of musical art.

“Ensign,” Seral addresses you when he spots you.

“Lieutenant, Keiko,” you nod at both. Your legs are still wobbly. Walking here had been hard, but now that you are back in the environment where you feel most safe, your heartbeat slowly returns to normal.

“How was the meeting?” Keiko asks with wide eyes.

“Good,” you lie.

Keiko knows when you do. “So bad. I get it,” she nods.

“Why was the meeting bad?” Seral wants to know. He clearly has a problem with the vagueness of the word bad, judging by the way he says it.

“I couldn’t talk.” You shrug and watch the bees sitting on the flower petals.

“Is this a good idea? For you to be on the away mission’s team?” Seral asks, still watching your expression closely.

You feel a boulder dropping into your stomach as you process his words.

No, of course not. It’s the worst idea. Not just because you are not a good team player and shy around others. It’s also that you get overwhelmed quite easily and only feel truly safe when you are among plants. And there is also the thing with Data.

But as you reflect on all that, noticing Seral and Keiko still watching you, waiting for your reply, you also notice another thought.

But what if it is a good idea?

You know that if you tell Seral you don’t want to be on the team, he will simply ask Commander Data to remove you. Seral has, until now, always been on your side. As a Vulcan he knows how hard life can be when simple smells annoy you, noises startle you, or you don’t understand what others mean when they talk indirectly.

He will make up some reason, like he can’t spare you at the moment. That way you can remain dignified and return to what you actually signed up for when you applied to the academy.

If you share your doubts with him now, he will act. He will act the way he thinks you want him to act. Because he is a good lieutenant, and even though he never said it, you think he sees you as his protégé.

“I think it’s a good way for me to learn more,” you say. Because apart from the dread you feel about the mission and everything that comes with it, there is also Data.

Seral nods and looks back at his bees. One lands on his hand, crawling around, maybe searching for food.

Keiko is still watching you with suspicion. But then she averts her eyes again.

You eat a small lunch that day. On the one hand you are not hungry at all. Your mind is already at the holodeck, thinking about training with Commander Data. But you also think that training on an empty stomach would be reckless and might even result in you getting kicked off the team.

Which now, after you had time to think about it and screw on your head a different way, you don’t want anymore.

You now feel like this mission needs to happen. Like the time you learned to swim and your father pushed you into the pool. You screamed, but when you found out that you could stand in the water, you had the best time.

Maybe this mission is like this pool.

After eating your lunch in the company of some other ensigns from the science division, you make your way to the holodecks. Today everything seems a little brighter, but also quieter than yesterday.

Today people aren’t shouting through the hallways at each other. That makes the walk to the holodecks easier.

When you arrive at Holodeck Two, you see that you are alone.

The computer tells you no one is currently inside. So you stand outside and wait.

“Ensign,” you then hear a cheery but authoritative voice. “What are you waiting for? Get in there, have some fun.” Commander Riker walks over to you, grinning.

“Sir,” you greet him, and while awkwardly bowing you realize that is not how normal people act.

Then you cough.

“Is it broken?” he mumbles and looks at the control screen outside the holodeck to check its functionality.

“No sir, I am waiting for Commander Data. He wants to train me for the mission in the Thelmar system,” you stutter and watch him watch the screen.

Commander Riker raises a brow and smirks at you. “Train you? For what exactly?”

You feel your face blushing, your eyes darting around, avoiding his cheeky stare.

“The mission, the planets, the…”

“Really?” He furrows his brow. “There is a training program for this, and haven’t you prepared yourself already with the other ensigns? They did that training a few days ago.”

Commander Riker types on the screen, locating a program and almost selects it.

“I just joined the mission,” you mumble. Somehow you are ashamed, even though it is really not your fault.

The Commander stops and steps away from the screen without pressing the button.

“Oh, you are the botanist that found the Auravine,” he says — mostly to himself.

He smiles at you. This time there is another expression on his face. It looks almost sad.

You feel the heat draining from your cheeks. In its place there is now an utter lack of blood in your face.

What did he mean by that? Do you have a bad reputation already?

But before you can muster the courage to ask him, Commander Data turns the corner and greets both of you.

“Commander,” Riker greets him mock-serious.

“Sir,” Data nods back. Just serious.

“Well then,” Commander Riker begins and takes a few steps back, “I have some holodeck time reserved. Have fun with the training, you two.” He salutes and disappears into Holodeck One.

Commander Data turns to you. “Are you ready to begin the training?” His brow is raised again.

“Yes, sir,” you say quietly. Unsure of this whole situation. Because what you really would like to ask is why this is necessary. You know that it is because you are you.

A botanist who barely leaves the arboretum and only does if forced. But technically you are an ensign in Starfleet. This kind of training is covered in the academy. You had a whole semester of planet drills.

You weren’t good, but you passed.

As you are deep in thought, Data selects the program Riker had found before.

“I would like to start with the L-class,” he explains. “When we step inside, you will experience problems breathing. You will find your gear to your immediate right. Please put it on and then follow me into the simulated environment.”

Your heart drops as he explains it all in detail. Did he do that because he read your file? Because somewhere your professor for planet drills wrote needs detailed instructions to perform adequately?

The doors of the holodeck open, and you step inside. The program is already running. You find yourself in a simulated shuttlecraft. Its doors of it is already open.

While you mutter to yourself why this is necessary, you look for the gear you need.

When you find it, you hastily — with trembling arms — put on the breathing apparatus and secure the small tube around your body.

Only when you have everything on does Data stroll into the holodeck. He nods at you approvingly and gestures for you to follow him outside.

You both step out of the shuttlecraft, and you immediately feel it.

Even though you have the tube, you feel a burning and almost floating sensation.

The gravity on this planet isn’t different from an M-class planet. But the oxygen reacts somehow with your body.

At least that is what you assume as you wobble over to Data.

“You did not turn on the breathing machine,” he informs you.

Oh god, no.

Of course you didn’t.

Before you can do anything, Data’s left hand reaches around your waist and pushes a button.

You can’t breathe.

Even though the tube is now supplying you with just the right amount of oxygen, your breathing momentarily stops as Commander Data has his arm almost wrapped around your waist to help you.

That is why Riker smiled sadly.

That is why you can’t do this alone, you sigh to yourself.