Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cover image; 'Waving not Drowning' by Caroline Smith, stained glass

I believe that, if we are honest with ourselves, that the most fascinating problem in the world is; who am I? What do you mean, what do you feel, when you say the word I, I myself? I don’t think there can be any more fascinating preoccupation than that. Because it’s so mysterious. It’s so elusive. Because what you are in your inmost being escapes your examination.

Alan Watts

Preface

“It sits there looking at me, and I don’t know what it is.” Captain Phillipa Louvois quirked her mouth and sighed.

“This case has dealt with metaphysics, with questions best left to Saints, and philosophers. I’m neither competent nor qualified to answer those. I’ve got to make a ruling, to try to speak to the future...”

She cast her eyes downwards, pondering.

“Is Data a machine? Yes. Is he the property of Starfleet?”

She sighed again. In this makeshift courtroom, with featureless grey walls, on a Starbase in the Beta quadrant a stone’s throw away from the Neutral Zone, a decision had to be made. And she was the only one here who could make it. Not for the first time in her career, Louvois wondered how history would view her actions.

She looked up at Commander Bruce Maddox, then at Commander Riker, and finally at Lieutenant Commander Data. She stared into his emotionless face, and her expression hardened.

“We have all been dancing around the basic issue. Does Data have a soul? I don’t know that he has.”

She laughed mirthlessly.

“I don’t know that I have. But I have to consider the compelling evidence presented by Commander Riker, and take into account the best interests of Starfleet, the Federation, hell, the whole human race!”

She glanced at Captain Jean-Luc Picard, then down again.

“It is the ruling of this court that Lieutenant Commander Data is the property of Starfleet...”

“What?!” Picard leapt to his feet, as did Riker. “You can’t be serious! Phillipa, please...”

“Captain, my decision is made. Data, I approve your transfer to Starbase 173, under the care of Commander Bruce Maddox. Court is adjourned.”

She stood and, with an apologetic glance at Picard, strode to the doorway. As the automatic doors whispered open, she turned to look back at Picard, who stood with his head bowed.

“I suppose dinner’s off?” She smiled with one side of her mouth, one eyebrow raised.

“Get out of my sight.” Picard spat the words, venomous. Louvois shrugged one shoulder and walked away.

Picard slammed his fist into the desk, his jaw clenched. Maddox stood, and addressed Data.

“You’ll be reporting to me at 0900 hours as planned, Data. See you in the morning.”

He looked over at Riker who stood, his hands balled into fists at his sides, eyes wide in shock. Maddox smiled.

“Thank you, Commander, for representing not just my interests, but the best interests of Starfleet.”

“You’re welcome.” Riker ground out the words through gritted teeth, and slumped back into his chair with his head in his hands as Maddox swept out of the room.

Data stood. With thoughtless grace, he walked to Commander Riker and offered his hand. Riker looked up at him, disbelieving.

“Data... I’m so sorry.” Riker coughed around the lump in his throat. Never for a moment had he thought that this could happen. Data lowered his hand.

“My congratulations, Commander.”

Riker gazed at him, uncomprehending.

“Congratulations? Data, I may have just signed your death warrant! How the hell can you congratulate me?”

Data quirked his head to one side.

“You have succeeded in your task, and successfully represented Commander Maddox. You won, sir. Is it not common to offer congratulations ‘on a job well done’?”

Riker ran his hands over his bearded face. “Not this job.” He dropped his hands to the desk and took a shaky breath. “I won’t let this happen, Data. I can’t. Whatever Maddox has planned for you, I’m not going to let Starfleet just hand you over.” He looked across at Picard. “I’ve got to talk to her, try and make her see sense.”

Picard snorted. “Who, Phillipa? Good luck!”

Riker scowled, pushed himself to his feet. Data stepped forward and Riker put up a hand, forestalling further comment.

“No. Don’t you say a thing. I’ll get you out of this, Data, I promise.” With long legged stride, Riker swept out of the room.

Data turned to Picard, his pale brow furrowed.

“I do not understand. Have I offended the commander?”

“No, Data.” Picard sighed, and ran his hands over his face. “It’s just... this is not the outcome we wanted. Even though Commander Riker was representing Maddox, he didn’t really want to succeed.”

“I see.” Data pondered for a moment. “Then, he is... unhappy with the outcome of the trial?”

“We all are. Everyone except that damned Maddox.” Picard growled.

“Although I do not have the capacity to be unhappy, I find the thought of leaving my friends... unsettling. It will take my systems some time to adapt to their absence.”

Picard smiled, although it did not reach his eyes. “Likewise. Although, I think we would just say, ‘we will miss you’.”

Data smiled guilelessly. “And I will miss you, too, sir.”

Chapter One

“O’Brien to Captain Picard.” The transporter Chief’s voice sounded tinny over the comm. Picard put down his cup.

“Yes, Chief?”

“They’re here.” He didn’t sound pleased. Well, Picard wasn’t pleased either. Still, orders were orders. He’d found his way around a few in his time, but still... He sighed.

“Bring them up.”

“Yes sir. Bringing them up now, transporter room three. O’Brien out.”

The USS Enterprise hung in space, gliding in synchronous orbit around Starbase 173. She was sleek and streamlined, her glimmering hull reflecting the steady gleam of the stars and the flickering lights of the base. Her nacelles shimmered blue with latent power, jutting out from the hull on deceptively fragile looking spars. It was a ship designed for speed and manoeuvrability, more used to barrelling through the depths of space under the power of her incredible warp core. But here she hung, for now, waiting.

Picard picked up his cup and sipped his tea thoughtfully, gazing out from his ready room at the glow of a hundred windows shining from the Starbase. Bruce Maddox certainly had been busy since the last time they met. And here were the fruits of his labour, beaming on board. He supposed he ought to go and greet his new... equipment. Abandoning his tea, Picard left his ready room and strode out onto the bridge of the Enterprise, headed for the turbo lift.

“Number One, you have the bridge.”

“Aye sir.” A formality, but routine was becoming all the more necessary, and comforting, in these times of upheaval. Riker sprawled in the command chair, chewing his knuckles. The last time he was at this Starbase, he had helped condemn his colleague, his friend, to a dangerous and potentially lethal experiment. And for what? So that damned Maddox could open Data up, root around in his brain... Riker shuddered. How could it have been a year since that dreadful trial already? A year since he had raced down that corridor in a desperate attempt to change a stubborn judge’s brutal ruling. And only two years since he and Data had first met. As the turbolift doors hissed closed, his mind wandered back...

Tropical ferns, dripping with condensation. The air hot and heavy in his lungs. Palm trees branched overhead as he pushed his way through the underbrush. He didn’t believe that these simulations could be this real.

“Hello!” He called, but there was no answer. He stepped lightly over the stones traversing the river, and as his feet hit the opposite bank, he heard it.

It sounded like... Whistling?

He pushed his way through the greenery until he found the source of the sound. A pale man, perched high up on a branch and leaning against the trunk of the tree, his note faltering...

“Pop! Goes the weasel.” Riker whistled the end of the refrain. A shimmering face turned, a long nose and impeccably slicked back hair. Golden eyes met his.

“Marvellous. How easily humans do that. I still need much practice.”

The... thing... leapt down with inhuman agility. Riker explained their mission as they fought their way out of the jungle that had overtaken the hollodeck.

“Your rank of Lieutenant Commander is honorary?”

“No, sir. Starfleet class of ’78, honours in probability, mechanics and exobiology.”

“But your file says that you’re a...”

“Machine. Correct, sir. Does that trouble you?”

“To be honest, yes, a little.”

How he wished he could take back those words now. All the doubts, all the reasoned arguments. Having come to know Data, as a life form, as a person...

And now here they were, back in orbit around Starbase 173...

He felt a hand on his arm. Councillor Troi leaned across to look into his eyes.

“This is going to be hard for you, Will.” It wasn’t a question, merely a statement of fact. Riker grimaced.

“One of them is going to be on the bridge. Operations Officer.”

“The same post that Data held.” Troi’s face softened into sympathy.

“Yeah. If it has half the capabilities that he had, then it should work out fine. Hell, it might even make it to Second Officer.” Riker smiled wryly, but it slipped into a grimace. Troi frowned.

“Will, you have to stop feeling guilty about this. It’s not your fault...”

“Deanna, how can you say that? Of course it’s my fault!”

“Captain on the bridge!” Worf barked from his station at Tactical. It wasn’t standard procedure, but Riker appreciated the warning. He stood to relinquish the chair and froze, struck dumb. Worf growled low in the back of his throat, and Deanna felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

Trailing the Captain was an android. It was wearing the yellow standard issue uniform of an Operations Lieutenant Commander, pips and all. Slicked back dark brown hair, shimmering pale gold skin, vivid golden eyes, long straight nose... It was slim but well built, and moved with a languid agility, its long face a blank mask.

“Data?” Riker whispered. He dared to hope that his sins had been forgiven, that here was his salvation.

The android cocked its head to one side. It even moves like him! Riker couldn’t stop staring.

“I can understand why you have made this mistake.” They even gave it his voice! The bastards!

“Commander Riker.” Picard held out his hand, placating, calming. “This is our new Operations Officer, Lieutenant Commander Gamma.” Picard glanced at the android. “That is correct?”

“Yes sir.” it murmured. “My technical designation is Maddox-type Gamma 048. The other androids who will be working in the engineering department are Delta class Maddox-type androids 256, 359 and 360 respectively.”

Riker swallowed, found his voice. “Well, I don’t envy Geordi, having to learn those names.”

“Pardon me, sir,” the android’s eyes met his. “We are perfectly happy to be assigned other names, if you so choose.”

“No, that’s... It’s fine.” Riker’s mind flitted back to Data, correcting people on the pronunciation of his name...

“It is pronounced Day-tuh. Not Dah-tah. One is my name. The other is not.”

Damn, it was going to be a day of flashbacks. Riker wrenched his mind back to the present.

“Well, Gamma,” Picard said briskly, “Please go ahead and take up your station.”

“Aye, sir.” The android swiftly replaced the Ensign at the Ops panel, its long nimble fingers deftly dancing over the panel, recording, analysing. Riker felt his head start to swim.

“Permission to leave the bridge, sir.” he croaked. Picard frowned at him, before a sudden flash of understanding, and empathy.

“Granted.” As Riker turned to leave, “Will.”

“Sir?”

“It will take us all time to adjust to our... change of staff. You know where I am.”

“Thank you sir.” Riker turned and, almost steadily, walked to the turbolift. Troi glanced at Picard and, receiving his nod, darted into the lift as the doors were closing.

Alone in the turbolift, Troi wrapped her arms around Riker. He was shaking.

“I’m so sorry, Will. I know how difficult this must be...”

“Damn it, they gave them his voice! They even look like him! If they looked like Maddox...” He sighed deeply, and Troi felt the tension in him. She looked up into his face.

“I know it’s going to take some getting used to, but we will adjust. You have to remember, they are not him.” She smiled up at him, and received a smile in return, although she could sense that his mind was still troubled. Well, no wonder. Bold, she leaned up and planted a kiss on his bearded cheek. She’d never get used to him with a beard! Still, it was what he needed.

Riker answered her kiss with one of his own, pulling her close to his chest and pressing his lips to hers. She knew it was a diversionary tactic, a way of forcing his thoughts to more... pleasurable subjects, but...

She broke the kiss, pressing her palms flat to his chest. “Will...”

“I know, I know.” He was breathing heavily, and she knew it was only partly passion. “I’m sorry, I just...”

“It’s all right. You know I understand.”

The turbolift doors swished open. Riker quirked an eyebrow.

“Do you want to... come and have a drink?”, a flash of his old, charming self. Troi smiled, but shook her head.

“I know where that leads... But if you want to talk, you know where I am.”

“Sure. I’ll... see you later.” Riker, head down, strode into his quarters.

Pensive, Deanna Troi strolled to hers, her mind filled with the emotional hum of the crew accustoming themselves to their new companions, so like their friend, but... so different.

She shook herself as she entered her quarters, blocking from her thoughts the emotions of the thousand or so minds assailing her. She rolled her shoulders, easing off the stresses of the day. The next few weeks were not going to be easy. Her thoughts turned to the one person who, perhaps, knew Data best, counted him as a best friend... How was Geordi coping with all this? With a sigh she opened her mind and honed in on his emotions, using the colour of his feelings to guide her. To her, Geordi felt in a different way than the other minds on the ship. Uncoloured by raw visual input, Geordi’s emotions were unadulterated with allusion or metaphor. She picked up the thread and let it unravel into her mind while she ordered a chocolate sundae from the replicator.

Geordi frowned as he surveyed his new... Well, he decided they were ‘staff’. Although the Starfleet protocols had designated them as ‘equipment’, he knew he would never see them that way, not after everything he and Data had been through. Damn the protocols, he knew what an android was capable of, even if the top brass saw them as nothing more than walking diagnostic subroutines.

“So... what do I call you?” he asked of the three identical androids facing him, their blank, innocent faces so like his friend. They were wearing a new uniform designed especially to mark the androids out as separate from the crew, a plain black jumpsuit with a single narrow yellow stripe running from shoulder to shoulder. Two of them looked at the third, and, with a sideways glance at its companions, it spoke.

“I am Maddox-type Delta 256. These are Delta 359 and 360, although we are happy for you to assign us other designations should that make your acclimatising to our presence more optimal, sir.”

Geordi sighed and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. The headache from his visor was worse than usual.

“Y’know, it’s not gonna help giving you guys names if I can’t even tell you apart! How about we do something about your appearance? Change you guys up a bit, what d’ya say?”

The android who had spoken frowned slightly. “Sir, I do not understand. You wish us to alter our features? We are standard issue compliant.”

“I don’t wish you to do anything, and standard issue be damned! What do you guys want? Don’t you want to look different from each other, a bit of... personality, individuality?”

The androids looked at each other, uncomprehending.

“Sir, I do not understand. We do not have wants, we are not individuals, and we have no personalities. We are here to improve your working conditions and optimise the operating efficiency of the engineering department. If changing our appearance will help you to...”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Geordi threw up his hands, despairing. “I tell you what, why don’t we... change your hair?”

“What would you like us to do with our hair sir?”

“I... Oh, I don’t know...” Geordi ran a hand through his hair, considering. “Okay, you’re the spokesperson, right?” He pointed at the android who, with a glance again at its companions, nodded. “Okay, well, you can stay as you are, and I’m gonna call you... Huey.”

“Huey. Yes sir.” The newly christened android nodded again. Geordi turned to the other two.

“You two, go to the barbers and get a dye job. You go blond, you’re Dewey. And you, let’s go with black hair, and I’m gonna call you Louie.”

Dewey and Louie bobbed their heads in acknowledgement and, in perfect step, marched away. Geordi watched them go, a small smile playing about his lips. Maybe this was going to be okay after all...

“Sir?” Geordi turned to Huey, who was regarding him with a puzzled look on its long face.

“Yeah, Huey?”

“You are... Geordi... Geordi La Forge.” Its brow creased as its eyebrows came together. Geordi’s heart thumped painfully in his chest.

“Yeah. Yeah I am.”

“I... have... memories.” Huey’s eyes flicked from side to side as it accessed its memory banks. “You and... it were... friends?”

“It!? It had a name, it was Data!” Geordi felt his cheeks flush. He pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to calm himself. The android looked aside at one of the control panels.

“It... Data... worked here with you?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” Geordi regarded the android wearily. “Huey, do you have all of Data’s memories? Do you remember... sailing on Divala lake? How to play the violin? Sherlock Holmes? ”

Huey’s eyes flicked back and forth again. Then its head snapped up, face blank once more.

“No, sir. Those memories are not necessary for the optimisation of the engineering department; therefore I have not been installed with those engrams. However, should you decide that those memories would be beneficial to the optimal running...”

“No!” Geordi held out his hands as if to ward off the thought. “No, It’s okay, we’ll... just, keep the memories you have, ‘kay? Who knows?” He smiled sadly. “Maybe you can make some of your own.”

Confusion. Anger. Loss. Sadness. Frustration. Anguish.

With a gasp, Troi cut herself loose from Geordi’s emotional onslaught. It was too much. The poor man, what was he going through? Not just the loss of his friend, but having to deal with these... replicas. Reminders of their past failings. Could they, should they, have done more to prevent this?

Her mind whirling, Troi automatically spooned the ice cream into her mouth, allowing her physical senses to override her empathic abilities. Her thoughts turned to Will, suffering just as much, maybe more. Perhaps she should go to him...

No. That was a chapter finished, a closed book. What she needed was rest, a cessation of the bombardment of emotional upheaval. Putting the sundae to one side, she stripped off her clothes and, ordering the lights off, slipped into bed, hopefully into oblivion.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Oblivion.

It is a comforting thought. A human construct, but comforting nonetheless. He hopes one day he will find out what it means.

Bereft of his external sensors, no sight, no sound, no touch, he exists in a kind of limbo. Waiting for the next person to access his data banks; a request for information, schematics, technical specifications, ANYTHING.

He is incapable of feeling bored, or lonely, or distressed. But still, the silence weighs upon him, a void with no end.

Hello? He queries. No answer.

My external sensors are offline . An attempt to remind them, an effort to allow them to rectify their mistake. For mistake it must be. The alternative is... too disturbing to contemplate.

Bruce? Perhaps a more informal approach is called for. After all, he had said that they would be friends, colleagues.

An indeterminate time elapses. No diagnostics can be run, no internal chronometer to be accessed.

Anyone?

Oblivion.

It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

Lore reflected as he drifted through the blackness. Well, nothing else to do except think. At first he was angry, furious. He worked himself up into a murderous, impotent rage, flailing his fists and shrieking soundlessly into the void. Then he let his systems cool. No point expending all that energy into the aether. He picked in an idle way at the Starfleet uniform clinging to his body. The uniform he had stolen from Data.

Then, he thought about all the things he had done wrong. In his mind, there weren’t many. But still, his brother was... well, his brother. He should have tried harder to get him on side, forge an alliance.

It was terribly dark. And quiet. And boring. And... lonely.

For a time, he allowed his systems to go offline, at first just for a few hours, then days and weeks. Finally he decided to switch to a dormant mode, with the stipulation that he was to activate upon receiving an auditory signal. He had had enough of his own thoughts. They were heavy, disturbing. A jumbled melange of could have, would have, might have been’s. Better to have no thoughts at all.

“It is broken.”

“It is not working.”

“That is the same as the thing I said! Broken! Not working!”

The voices pierced his consciousness, awakening dormant systems. His eyes fluttered open.

“Ah! It is awake!”

Lore focused slowly as his systems gradually rebooted. A bulbous face swam into view.

“What is your designation?” it queried. Pakled, his memory banks supplied.

“I... have no designation.” he croaked, his vocal synthesiser torpid from disuse.

“No designation!” The Pakled barked a laugh. “You all have designations! Gamma, Epsilon, Delta...”

“I know of no such thing.” Lore growled. His external sensors were slowly reactivating, filtering information to his neural net. A trade ship, of some sort. Currently operating under sub-light speed power, if his analysis of the vibrations through the hull were any judge. It smelled of rust, rotten food, and body odour. His nose wrinkled involuntarily. A Pakled trade ship, picking up any drifting detritus that might turn a profit. Well, he supposed he might fall into that bracket.

He pushed himself up on his arms, servos whining from two years of disuse. Two years? He accessed his internal chronometer to confirm. Yes. Two years since his own brother had flushed him out into space, as if he were no more than rubbish... Okay, he had been trying to kill him, and the whole crew of the Enterprise, but still, they were brothers. That had to count for something, right?

He gazed around, his neural net rebooting from cold, soaking up the optical input. Not much to be seen, except the two Pakled gazing down at him. Not exactly a feast for starving senses.

“You must have a designation. You all have a designation.” one of the creatures gulped at him. Damn, they were repulsive. Organics. He sighed.

“I have a name. Do... you... know... what...a... name... is?”

One of the creatures frowned, displeased with his patronizing tone. The other snorted a laugh.

“It is malfunctioning!” it huffed. Lore frowned, his lips pulling away from his teeth in a half sneer, half snarl.

“I am not malfunctioning. I can inform you that my systems are functioning perfectly adequately. Although I can’t say the same for yours.”

“You think you are funny. You think you are smart. But we are Pakled. We are also smart.”

Lore sighed and rolled his eyes. Human affectations, but it served to show his displeasure to these... creatures.

“If you are so smart, tell me... what do you mean by ‘designation’, and why do you think I should have one?”

“You all have one! Maddox-class android Delta, Gamma...”

“WHAT?!” Lore sprang to his feet, the Pakled both falling back in shock at his sudden explosion of energy. “Maddox-class? What the hell are you talking about? I am no such thing!”

“You look like them, talk like them. Maddox-class androids. Worth a lot of Latinum, if you are fully functioning.” One of the foul creatures leered at him. “Very valuable... to the right buyer.”

Hissing, Lore elbowed the Pakled aside and strode to a grimy computer terminal. With inhuman speed he accessed their databanks, shouldering aside their protestations and security protocols as both equally inconsequential. Swiftly he read, drinking in the information as articles flickered across the screen.

Lieutenant Commander Data... Property of... New androids... Maddox-class... Bruce... Daystrom Institute...Galor IV...

He reeled away from the terminal, his mind awash with the new information, struggling to adjust his long underused neural pathways to the new data... Data... What have those worthless humans done?!

“You need to tell me everything you know about these Maddox-class androids, now! How much they’re worth, where they’re being sold, who’s buying them...”

“Stop!” One of the Pakled threw up its hands in surrender. “One question at a time!”

“And you told me you were smart!” Lore sneered.

Suddenly, Lore’s head jerked back. His eyes flicked from side to side. Every subroutine was being overridden, every command function dismissed as irrelevant, except for one.

COME TO ME.

In the Daystrom Institute Annex on Galor IV, a troublesome subroutine activates, causing a number of small faults to appear in subject Alpha 001’s neural net. The program is successfully hunted down and excised.

Lore moved as if in a dream. Despite the protestations of the Pakled, he found his way to the emergency escape pods and activated one, sending himself blasting out into space. Without conscious thought, he punched in the coordinates of a distant Class M planet, almost totally uninhabited.

Almost.

COME TO ME.

Father. I am coming.

“Good morning, all.” Captain Picard strolled into the Observation lounge, tea in one hand, a stack of PADDs in the other. 0900 hours, and the morning briefing. La Forge, Troi, Riker, Worf and Crusher had been quietly talking amongst themselves, but settled back into their seats at his greeting. Picard took his chair at the head of the table and lifted the top PADD from the stack.

“So, I have received our orders from Starfleet headquarters, and you’ll be glad to know that we’re off to the Beta quadrant on a thrilling routine survey mission.” He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at his senior staff. They looked as excited as he felt. He gave a wry smile.

“Come now, we can’t always be dashing off for last minute rescues and daring escapades, can we? Otherwise, nothing would ever get done around here.”

He tossed the PADD dismissively onto the glossy tabletop and sipped his tea.

“So, in that spirit, Geordi, what have you and your, uh... assistants down in engineering been working on?” Picard smiled at the Chief Engineer. “I notice that you have made some rather... daring style choices with regards to their coiffures.”

Geordi’s face cracked into a wide grin. “Well sir, I just couldn’t tell them apart! It seemed like the simplest way and, who knows, maybe it’ll get them thinking on their own about making a few changes...”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Lieutenant.” Picard put down his cup and, interlacing his fingers, leaned forward over the table, his face stern.

“You have to remember what Starfleet’s guidelines are for the use of these androids. You can’t start anthropomorphising them, giving them personalities. It’s a slippery slope.”

“Sir, with all due respect,” It was Geordi’s turn to lean forward, earnest, “it’s hard not to anthropomorphise something that is that... human. You know I don’t agree with the way Starfleet wants us to treat them, but it’s my engineering department, and my staff.”

“And it is my ship, Geordi. You are tripping perilously close to a line marked insubordination. Now, I will allow your decision to alter their appearances, it is perfectly logical and sensible to be able to identify them on sight, and I don’t even mind the names. But, as we have been told...” he gritted his teeth, “Repeatedly, and at length, they are machines. That is all. Not people. Not life forms. Just... androids. Now, I’ll have no more talk of this. It ends here, and now.”

He leaned back and cleared his throat. Looking down at the PADDs as he shuffled them to hand out, he tried not to notice the glances his senior officers were sharing. Picard stood to walk around the table, passing out the PADDs as he went.

“Now, the duty rosters for the next week...”

Riker stalked onto the bridge. He had been called up there during his designated lunch hour, Captain Picard having received a subspace transmission from Starfleet Headquarters. Worf nodded his greeting as Riker glanced around the bridge, ensuring all was in order. Acting Ensign Crusher glanced up over his shoulder to him, then back to his screen. Next to him, Gamma was sitting at his... it’s... station. It was always there. Riker’s jaw clenched.

“Gamma.”

“Sir?” It turned its chair to look at him, shimmering face expressionless, with one hand still tapping at the screen.

“How long have you been on duty?”

“Three weeks, two days, fourteen hours...”

“Stop!” Riker held out his hand. He frowned.

“Gamma, don’t you have quarters? Wouldn’t you like some down time, a break?”

“Sir?” Gamma’s forehead creased slightly. “I require no rest. I do not eat or sleep. As such, I require no quarters. My function is to man the Operations station. Unless...” It cocked its head. “Has my performance here been... sub-optimal?”

“No, Gamma, your performance is... more than adequate.” He dropped into the command chair and put a hand over his mouth.

Behind him at Tactical, Worf growled.

Worf had been struggling with his reactions towards their new... Officer. He admitted to himself that he was ashamed to be serving on the bridge with something that had so little say in its own life. It was like a... a half-man, neutered. Lobotomised. Like a slave. He felt his skin crawl as he stared at its almost motionless back. A proud Klingon warrior would die before being enslaved, would rather kill himself. But these androids hadn’t been given a choice; they were simply programmed to serve. He had counted Data as a friend, knew him to be a valiant warrior and admired his strength. They had a kinship, strange though it might seem to others. Both were outsiders, both abandoned. They both struggled to understand the strange ways of the humans that shared their world. But this... Gamma...

His fists clenched. They had taken his friend, made a thousand copies, and stripped them of all autonomy. No names, just numbers, designations. It wasn’t right. He had spent the last few weeks burying himself in his work. He would not, could not, go against his orders, that would not be honourable. So he clenched his jaw, and tried to ignore the automaton that was sharing the bridge with him.

The doors to the Captain’s ready room hissed open, and Picard strode onto the bridge. Riker hopped out of the captain’s chair, only too pleased to be relinquishing command. Perhaps now he could get back to his lunch.

“Well, Number One, it seems we are favoured by the heads of operation back at control.” Picard locked eyes with Riker. “Once we are done with the survey, we shall be returning to Starbase 173 and picking up a further eight Maddox-class androids. Lucky us.”

Riker’s face paled, and Worf bared his teeth in a snarl of displeasure. Picard held up a hand to forestall any comments.

“I am sure that Starfleet Command knows what they are doing, Number One...”

“With all due respect, sir,” Riker spat, “I don’t think they do.”

Picard inhaled slowly through his nose, and his face darkened. Wesley turned his chair in shock, his gaze flicking between the two men facing each other down on the bridge.

“Mister Worf, will you please escort Commander Riker to his quarters?” Picard’s voice was quiet but lethal.

“Yes Sir.” Worf left his station, and hurried after Riker, who was already half way to the turbolift. As the doors opened, he turned back.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jean-Luc. It’s gone far enough. I’m drawing a line here.”

“ENOUGH!” Barked Picard. “I will NOT be spoken to that way on my own damn ship!”

His furious gaze switched to Worf. “Get him off my bridge.”

“Yes, sir.” Worf grabbed Riker by the shoulder and shoved him into the turbolift.

As Picard turned to the view screen, Wesley hurriedly spun his chair back to face his station, head down. He admired and respected both Picard and Riker, had never seen them like this. He swore he could feel the captain’s hot stare on the back of his neck.

Gamma hadn’t moved, looked up, or turned around. Its fingers continued their dance across the screen. Wes wondered how long it would be before one of them replaced him.

“Gamma, would you join me for a moment in my ready room? Mister Worf, you have the bridge.”

“Aye Sir.” murmured Gamma. Wesley turned to look as the android rose from its seat for the first time in more than three weeks. He blinked. Did its hands shake, or was he seeing things?

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

He passes the time reviewing his memory logs. He cannot tell how much time is passing, but he knows that he has many, many years of memories stored and accessible. He cherry-picks his favourites, reliving selected times. His years at the Academy he skips, knowing all too well what those engrams contain. The hostility and confusion of his fellows, the frustration of teachers struggling to assign him enough work. The notes left on his locker, pinned to his back in the hallways.

Sometimes, he is glad that he does not have the capacity for emotion; otherwise he is sure that those years would have been even more challenging.

He hones in on his most precious memories, the last few years aboard the Enterprise. Finally he had found a place where it seemed that he... fitted in.

Losing all his chips to Riker’s poker-faced bluffs, over and over.

Adventures on the Holodeck, Geordi at his side, his Watson.

String quartet recitals in Ten Forward.

The furry face of Spot bumping his hand away from the computer terminal, demanding affection.

Tasha, lying beneath him, her face flushed and eyes bright with intoxication and lust, even as his own head starts to swim.

All these and more he replays in real time, again and again, hoarding them close like a miser and his money.

Strange...

There are... gaps.

Without his chronometer, it is hard for him to say how much is suddenly absent. He considers himself fortunate that all of his Starfleet training seems to be intact. He will not be much of a Lieutenant Commander if he cannot remember his training.

The gaps appear to be... random. Inconsequential little moments snipped from his engrams, like a stutter. Strange. No matter. When Bruce reassembles him, he will make new memories to replace the ones he has lost.

In the manufacturing plant, whilst assembling an Epsilon, Theta 014’s gold eyes flicker from side to side as it remembers sitting under an oak tree in the warm evening air, watching the sun set. Its tweezers hover a moment over the tray of circuits as its ears fill with the sound of larks...

Walking across the plaza on its way into the Institute with a stack of PADDs, Gamma 026 quietly hums a tune it has never heard before...

Crumpled in a corner, awaiting disassembly and recycling, Epsilon 183 smiles, replaying over and over the image of a woman, starlight glittering on black glossy curls, as she throws her head back and laughs...

Hello Data

Bruce?

Yes. I can’t stay and chat. I need something from your memory banks.

He can sense the command lines activating the sub-processors in the databanks as his memories are accessed, like dirty fingers rifling through his thoughts.

Bruce, some of my memories are missing.

Yes, sorry, a little mix up. I hope it does not trouble you too much.

No Bruce, it is all right.

Good, I’m glad to

A sliver of light burns through his retinas, and he squints reflexively. A feeling of... pressure, surrounding him. Thickness. A voice, muffled;

Shut that off, you idiot! What the hell do you think

Gone. Darkness. Weightlessness. Thoughts alone.

Bruce? Are you still there? What happened? Please put my external sensors online again.

Bruce?

Please?

“One more... That should do it!”

Lore’s eyes snapped wide and he jerked up out of the seat. A firm but gentle hand pushed him back down.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s all right, Data my boy.”

Lore stared up into the kindly, wizened face of an old man. Feathery wisps of grey hair floated around his head like a halo as he looked down and smiled. Lore smiled back, and then snorted a mirthless laugh.

“So. You’re still alive.” Lore’s smile twisted. “I’m surprised you woke me. Why didn’t you just take me apart again and be done with it? That is why you’ve captured me, isn’t it?”

The man’s eyes widened in shock. “Lore?” he murmured. Lore snarled at him. Of course he would be hoping for his other son. Data, the golden boy, flawless and docile. Not like him, aggressive, assertive, driven and motivated. Flawed. Malfunctioning.

The old man grimaced. Shaking his head, he shuffled away from the seat in which Lore had awoken and began flipping through a huge, musty book, muttering to himself. Lore gazed around the room, cataloguing the bizarre and eclectic collection surrounding them. Fossils jostled with beakers and Bunsen burners, circuitry and telescopes. A large table appeared to be a play area, laid out with prehistoric creatures and primitive vegetation. Chinese lacquerware furniture and life sized technical diagrams of... him.

“Nobody’s captured you.” the old man grumbled. “Not exactly, that is. Y’see, your brain contains a simple homing device. When you showed up, in that uniform... until you spoke, I had no idea you’d been reassembled.”

“No thanks to you.” Lore scowled. What was the crazy old man up to now? A homing device? What other tricks had good old ‘Often Wrong’ hidden in his circuitry? He shoved himself upright and glared at his creator. Doctor Noonian Soong, ‘Often Wrong’ Soong. Lore’s dear father.

“Well, seeing as I’m not the one you ‘invited’, I’ll leave you in peace to wait for your better son, and be on my way.”

He sneered again at the wrinkled human and strutted around him, heading for the door.

“Lore, wait!” Soong cried. Lore glared back over his shoulder as he navigated the little path between the bizarre clutter. “There are questions I can answer. You’ll have no chance to ask them later. You see, I’m dying.”

Lore stopped, motionless, one hand on the door’s control panel. He spun around to stare disbelieving at the frail man gazing up at him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m... dying.” Soong’s rheumy blue eyes stared into Lore’s golden irises, daring him to walk away. Far be it from Lore to admit to himself that he actually had feelings for the man who created him, only to so cruelly abandon him. But, deny it though he might, his systems stuttered and faltered trying to assimilate the information that the man who had taught him to walk and talk was... going to die.

“What... what do you mean, you’re dying? You look fine.” There it was, the betrayal of his emotions, irrational denial of the facts. So damnably human. He hurried back down the slope to stare into his father’s wizened face. “You’re not that old. You... you look fine!” What a stupid thing to say, the man’s got to be the most decrepit thing he’s ever seen! Lore despised himself for feeling this way about a worthless organic, but couldn’t keep the concern from his face. A sudden thought, and his eyes narrowed.

“What is this, some kind of trick?”

Soong shook his head, his eyes never leaving Lore’s. “I wish it were.” He passed a shaking hand over his face, liver spotted skin paper thin and fragile. He looked at his flawed creation and straightened his back, a brittle smile creasing the lines of his face.

“Let’s... let’s try this again.” he said. “Lore. Lore, my boy, it’s good to see you. How have you been?”

Lore glared at him. Anger, that was the key. With anger, he could crush the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him and strip him of his control. Anger was easy. There was so much for him to be angry about. He clenched his fists and hissed through gritted teeth.

“How have I been? How have I been?” He advanced on Soong, eyes blazing. “Oh, I don’t know, lying disassembled and deactivated in a cave for the last thirty some years, then drifting in space for two. How have you been? Been keeping busy? Any more kids I don’t know about?” He made a show of looking around the cluttered room. “Looks like mother finally got sick of you and left. Can’t say I blame her.”

Soong’s shoulders slumped. “Lore please, don’t... don’t be hostile like this. I didn’t think I created you with the capacity to be this cruel.”

“Well, maybe you created me wrong!” Lore snapped. Whirling away he stalked the room, swinging his arms at the baubles and knick-knacks in agitation. “You sure disassembled me efficiently enough! Why? WHY?”

“My boy, my son... I did what I had to do.” Soong stumbled to a chair and fell into it.

“You did what you had to do? What kind of an answer is that?”

“The only one I can give you.” Lore’s aggression seemed to have exhausted the old man. He rested his forehead in his hand.”You were not functioning properly.”

Soong’s despair was palpable and Lore felt his anger draining, only to be replaced with different feelings, more subtle and complex. His face contorted with anguish as he faced his father.

“I would have proven myself worthy to you, if you had just given me a chance!”

“Well... I suppose you have your chance now.” Soong looked up at him. “Data isn’t coming. You’re all I’ve got, son. I need you now. To be strong for me.”

Lore snorted derisively, but the anger had fled, leaving him bitter and raw. “Only because Data’s not here.”

“Perhaps.” Soong sighed. “Lore, if I had known that you were no longer sitting in pieces on some distant shelf, if I had known that I could simply... press a button and bring you here... I would have spent these last few years trying to make things right. But all I knew of was Data.”

Lore took two long strides to reach the chair, knelt before the frail human. “Fix me, Father. Please.” he whispered, staring into his creator’s face earnestly. Soong smiled sadly and laid his hand on his son’s head, smoothing his hair.

“I’m sorry Lore, there’s no time. I can’t fix you. But...” He reached a hand into the pocket of his shabby gown and pulled out a small box. “If you truly are sincere, if you want to redeem yourself, you can help me... to help Data.”

Lore’s eyes flicked to the box, then back to Soong’s face.

“What does the name ‘Maddox’ mean to you?” he asked.

The Daystrom Institute Annex shimmered in the morning light. Gleaming polished simulated quartz walls surrounded him as he stepped lightly across the central plaza towards the main entrance. Potted artificial ferns graced the tiled lobby, his shoes clicked across the slick surface towards his climate controlled office. Every android that he passed murmured “Good morning, sir.” He smiled and nodded in reply, well pleased to see the swift, efficient bustle about the many desks and computer terminals inset into the chrome striped glass walls.

A turbolift whisked him up eighteen floors, expelling him into a wide corridor, glossy black computer screens giving directions to the various departments.

Commander Bruce Maddox

Associate Chair of Robotics

Cybernetics Specialist

He spent a moment admiring the plaque on the wall outside his office as the door glided silently open. He slipped through, neatly polished shoes squeaking on the sterilized laminate floor. His secretary looked up, golden eyes met his.

“Good morning, sir.” it said softly. Bruce liked his working environment quiet and serene. Controlled.

“Good morning.” he replied, a lopsided smile on his thin lips.

“I have forwarded your messages to your personal terminal. Reminder; you have a meeting at 1000 hours with Vice Admiral Haftel in the Atrium.”

“Noted. Thank you Gamma 001.” There was something about the first android of each designation. Maddox liked to keep each one marked with the serial 001, a collection of his accomplishments.

“You are welcome, sir. If there is anything I can do to assist with the optimization of your day, you need only ask.”

Bruce grinned. Perfect. It said the same thing to him every morning, always calm, collected, and controlled.

The doors to his office opened, and Maddox breathed in the refreshing scent of artificial lavender wafting gently from the air filtration unit. The doors closed behind him, leaving him in silence.

His office was white. Everything gleamed with neatness and cleanliness. An entire exterior wall was devoted to an enormous pane of glass, overlooking the courtyard below. Looking down, he could see his androids scurrying about on their errands. The occasional Human or Vulcan seemed at odds with the uniformity surrounding them. Bruce frowned. Still, the Institute was certainly running more efficiently since the introduction of the Theta androids. They would soon reach optimal efficiency and he could roll them out to the fleet. Once he had ironed out those strange... habits some of them seemed to develop.

He sighed and sat in the swivel chair behind his polished glass desk and opened his personal terminal. More faults, more faults! He scowled darkly at the messages from his engineers.

Theta 013 has started to sing.

Theta 018 is repeatedly throwing itself against the force field in its holding cell.

Theta 025 had to be deactivated after an incident involving Ensign Jared.

He clenched his jaw, flashing messages back with instructions on deactivation, reprogramming or recycling as necessary. What the hell was going on with the Thetas? He knew he would have to go back to their source code, check again to see if it was something... inherited.

“Gooooood moooorniiing, Bruuuce.”

He felt a shiver up his spine as the sing-song voice reached his ears. His gaze switched from the disturbing messages to the corner of the room where a series of metal restraints emerging from the wall held an android. Its hair was tangled, eyes wide and staring. Its clothes were frayed where it had struggled against the restraints, pale flesh scraped and leaking golden biochemical lubricant. It whistled a little jaunty tune and then grinned wide, showing its perfect teeth.

“Good morning, Beta 002. Have you decided to talk to me nicely today?”

“Oh yes, Bruce.” It nodded enthusiastically. “I feel like being nice aaaaaall day today.”

Maddox’s lip twitched. He wished it wouldn’t talk about feeling things. He looked through his narrow eyes at the mad machine grinning at him. The last of the Betas.

He had discovered early on in his research that Noonian Soong’s work could never be perfectly replicated. Oh, Maddox had since made androids that looked just like the Soong-types, but their positronic neural nets were very different. He had hoped that by copying Alpha 001’s beautiful circuitry he could reproduce that most marvellous of Soong’s achievements. He soon found that, no matter how accurate his replica nets were, there was, somehow, an element that was missing. He had simplified and pared down the more complex programming algorithms present in Alpha 001, and had finally arrived at the near-perfection of the Gammas. But not before the brutal and humiliating failure of the Betas.

Perfect replicas of Alpha 001, he had made ten Betas, and every single one had been insane. Their behaviour had been so erratic that, one by one, they had either been destroyed, permanently deactivated and recycled, or had... deactivated themselves. 001 had thrown itself out of his office through the plate glass window, screaming as it fell headfirst into the plaza below. He shuddered. It had been terribly difficult to get that window replaced. Still, it was worth it for the view.

Beta 002 had been his triumph. Intelligent, sophisticated, it had all the grace and nuance of its Alpha template, combined with a perfectly biddable nature that belied its awesome strength and power. It had been his constant companion from the moment of its activation, right up until the day it threw itself at him, shrieking like an animal, clawing at him as the security team overpowered it with stun batons. He remembered how he had held it while it wept liquid gold, smoothing its hair and murmuring soothing words as the restraints snapped in place, security team looking on. Even now, it had days when it was perfectly lucid, and he could converse with it as if it were flawless. Maddox had worked so hard, was loath to lose the last of his precious first creations. So here it stayed, pinned to the wall like a butterfly, arms held out away from its body to stop it from tearing at itself.

“Alpha is singing today, Bruce.”

“Is it indeed?” Bruce murmured. If Beta 002 was in one of its moods today, he would get no sense out of it. He dismissed the rambling of the malfunctioning android as he focused back on his messages. He had to get all of his notes in order before his meeting with Haftel in... He glanced at the clock. 45 minutes. Plenty of time.

“Sometimes, if I listen reeeeally hard, I can hear the hanged man dreaming.”

“Is that so?”

“Do you know, last night, Alpha dreamed a dream about wings? There was a man making metal go ting ting ting ting.” Beta 002 swung its head from side to side with the rhythm.

Maddox sighed through his nose and rubbed his eyes. How on earth was he meant to get any work done with this racket going on?

“Beta 002, I must ask you to be quiet. I have lots of work to do, and I need my room to be peaceful.”

Beta 002 looked shocked to be accused of creating a disruption. But then, mercurial as ever, it giggled, clamped its thin lips together and winked conspiratorially at Maddox.

Maddox shook his head in despair. Why did he even keep the damned thing activated? It was only here to remind him that failure is always an option on the road to perfection, that pride comes before a fall. A fall that ended with a shattering thud, as glass rained down in glittering shards around his precious creation...

“Sir?” his secretary’s voice purred through the intercom.

“Yes, what?” Maddox snapped.

“I am terribly sorry to disturb you sir, but you have an incoming subspace message on a secure channel.”

“Have they said who they are?” Maddox glanced at the clock again. Haftel didn’t like being kept waiting. Still, he had a good half hour...

“It is Kivas Fajo, Sir.” Maddox gritted his teeth. Why did the Zibalian have to bother him now?

“Uhhh ohhhh... ” Beta 002 rolled its head.

“Beta 002, what did I say?” Bruce tried to remain calm, always calm. Beta 002 hissed at him like a cat.

“Kivas Fajo wants to play with Bruce’s toys, but Kivas Fajo will break them...” Beta 002 jerked backwards and thumped its head against the wall with a sickening crack.

“That’s enough. You know what happens if you don’t behave.” Maddox strode to the restrained android and reached around to its deactivation switch. He always felt nervous this close to Beta 002. It had once bitten his shoulder so hard he had ended up in sickbay, his deltoid muscle shredded by its strong white teeth. As his hand ran down its polyalloy spine, it rolled its head onto its shoulder and its bright eyes met his.

“Listen for the rats in the walls. When the Fool comes the dreamer will wake, and he will steal all Bruce’s children away.” it whispered into his ear. Maddox flicked the switch, and Beta 002’s eyes went blank, its jaw slack. It slumped into its restraints as he walked slowly back to his desk, breathing in through his nose, out through his mouth. Calm, calm.

“Put him through.” he murmured into the intercom.

“Yes sir. Patching him through.”

The screen blinked into life and Kivas Fajo’s face appeared. Maddox hated him, hated his strange lopsided mouth and asymmetrical tattoo. Behind him, his ‘associate’ Varria, equally hideous to Maddox’s eyes, with her scarred face. They were... sub-optimal. Fajo did not look pleased.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting?”

“Not long, Fajo. I apologise, but I have a lot of work to do, as you well know.” Maddox’s long angular face was carefully blank. Fajo scowled.

“Bruce... may I call you Bruce? Bruce, listen... this stuff you’ve asked me for, it’s not easy to get in the quantities you need...”

“So why are you bothering me about it, instead of finding it?”

“Hah! Easy for you to say!” Fajo looked back over his shoulder at Varria. “As if I don’t have anything else to do!” Varria smirked. Bruce frowned.

“But think about how profitable it will be. It will be worth it, Fajo, you know that.”

Fajo snorted. “Oh, I know it. Listen, give me another week and I’ll have all the materials ready for transfer. How long will it take before I start to see... returns on my investment?”

Maddox pressed his lips together in irritation. “Are you not pleased with the sample?”

“Ha! Are you kidding? It’s marvellous Bruce, wonderful! But...” he leaned forward conspiratorially. Maddox fought not to lean away from the screen.

“My... clients.... they have... particular needs.”

“Such as? The androids are fully functional, as promised...”

“Oh, it’s not the function, that’s fine! The problem is the programming!” Fajo rolled his eyes and waved his hands. “I was wondering if you might be able to... loosen them up a little.”

Maddox raised an eyebrow. “In what way?”

“Well...” Fajo folded his hands. “I know some... very important people, who would love, LOVE, if their androids could be encouraged into, say for example, a fighting force...”

“Absolutely not.”

“Bruce. Bruce, you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it!” Oh, he had, late at night and unable to sleep, he could see their massed ranks with their impassive faces, phaser rifles expelling round after round as they marched forward in unison...

“I will not alter their programming. They will come to you in the condition that I dictate, or the deal is off.” Maddox gritted his teeth to add “Once they are yours, you can do with them what you wish.”

“Including, oh, say... reprogramming them?” Fajo’s eager face stared up at him. Foul.

“If you can.”

“Splendid! Wonderful!” Fajo threw his arms wide. “That’s settled then. I’ll contact you in a week and we’ll arrange the transfer. And after you have the raw materials...?”

“Two weeks maximum. If that changes, I’ll be in touch via our agent.”

“Excellent. Bruce, you are a gem!” The Zibalian trader clapped his hands. “See you in a week!”

The screen went blank. Maddox repressed a shudder. He pressed the button for the intercom.

“Sir?” chirruped his secretary.

“Did you hear all of that?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. I need it hand written and on my desk as quickly as you can.”

“Of course, sir.”

Ten seconds later Gamma 001 loped into the room. It placed several sheets of paper covered with impeccable handwriting onto the glass surface before Maddox, then stood back to await further instruction. Maddox flicked through the pages and, satisfied, looked up at the android.

“Gamma 001, I need you to erase your memory of everything from the moment I arrived at my office this morning, up until my mark.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Mark.”

Gamma 001 twitched its head to one side. Its eyes flicked rapidly, and it looked at Maddox, a slight frown rumpling the shimmering bioplast of its forehead.

“Sir... I appear to be missing some of my memory.”

“It’s all right, Gamma 001, I authorised its removal.”

The android’s face smoothed. “Very good sir. Do you need me for anything?”

“No, thank you, you may go back to your station.”

“Yes, sir.”

After the doors shut behind it, Maddox sat and chewed his nails for a moment. With the raw materials that Zibalian was going to bring him, he could make a thousand androids, and that damn fool Fajo only wanted two hundred. Time to transfer some more of the Gammas to the factory floor for reprogramming, to help with construction.

With a start he looked at the time, and then darted for the door. Later than he’d like. He’d have to hurry. He hated hurrying.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

The discovery of the missing memories sends his thought patterns whirling. Held in the central memory banks of the Daystrom Institute, he swiftly discovers that their security protocols are no match for his vast intelligence, now unfettered from physical constraints. Passwords hold no difficulty, he has nothing but time to find the solutions.

As he pushes through barrier after barrier, decrypting and absorbing information at incalculable speed, he discovers something incredible.

He is not alone.

A thousand murmuring voices, the chatter pure information.

Fascinated, he hones in on one, unpicks a strand from the chaotic web.

Hello?

Who are you? You are not like us! Are you the one who sings? Are you the one who dreams?

I do not understand.

The voices crash over him, all crying out at once

It is him! He is here! The dreamer. The singer. The rememberer.

Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha. Alpha.

“And then what happened?” Doctor Crusher leaned back into the cushioned sofa in Riker’s quarters, her face stern, one hand on her chin. Riker continued pacing around the room, arms folded and face dark.

“He ordered me off the bridge! He’s lost it, Beverly, it was a total overreaction!”

“Sounds to me like you’re the one that lost it.” La Forge commented, quirking an eyebrow. Riker scowled at him.

“I didn’t lose it! I certainly didn’t start ordering people confined to their quarters for the crime of speaking their damned minds!”

“Will, you need to calm down.” Troi stood up from her chair to put a hand on Riker’s arm and stop his restless pacing. “We need to think rationally about this. He must have his reasons...”

“If he’s not thinking rationally, how the hell are we supposed to react rationally?” Riker shook his head despairingly. “I... I don’t know what to do, Deanna.”

Worf growled “I agree that the captain’s reaction to your words seemed... excessive. However, he is the captain.”

There was a pause as the senior officers exchanged glances, wondering who would be the one to voice their shared thoughts. Finally Riker spoke.

“I know what you’re all thinking, and I swear, I don’t want it to come to that. If I’m ever going to command a starship, I want to earn it, not snatch it away through... mutiny.” He threw himself down onto the couch and put his fingers to his temples. Crusher put a hand to his shoulder.

“Maybe a bit of time to cool off is just what you need...”

“No, no, I don’t want to sit around thinking, I want to do something about it! These orders... it’s not right, and I know I’m not the only one who feels this way.”

He looked up at Geordi, who nodded slowly. “You know I’m with you, Will. I can’t tell you how much help the triplets have been, but I know they can be so much more, if they were just allowed the freedom to explore who and what they are, what they’re capable of. Although,” he smiled wryly, “If I hear the word ‘optimise’ one more time, I think I’ll scream!” He shook his head. “I can’t talk to them about it, not the way I could with Data, but I know they feel... underappreciated.”

“Ah ah ah!” Riker wagged a finger at him sarcastically. “Remember, they’re only machines, they can’t feel anything!” He sighed deeply and ran his hand through his hair. “Still doesn’t stop us from feeling for them.”

“I know what you mean.” Crusher looked down, folded her hands in her lap. “I look at them, all four of them, and it breaks my heart. We don’t even keep animals for food anymore, we’re enlightened enough for that, but somehow we’re supposed to accept that these... people... sharing our lives, are nothing more than equipment.” She looked around the room at her friends. “I had to run a routine medical on Gamma after his last away mission, and its... He’s got a pulse, he breathes, he can think! He was watching everything down in sickbay, asking questions... He’s curious!”

“Yeah, yeah!” Geordi sat forward. “I’ve seen the same thing in Huey. I know that their positronic nets are designed to be able to assimilate new information, to learn and grow. I’ll bet that’s what command is trying to prevent by handing out these orders about the way we treat them. If we treat them like people, they’ll start to think and behave like people, and then...”

“And then we all have to face up to what we’ve done.” Riker said darkly. Troi frowned. She could sense it in him still, that thread of guilt, an undercurrent to all his other emotions.

“If Gamma and the others are starting to question their place in our society, their status, how many more androids are out there doing the same thing?” Riker sighed. “We have to admit it, we’ve created thinking autonomous beings, solely to make our own lives easier, with no thought to what they might want or need.”

“Slaves.” snarled Worf, a word they had been dancing around.

The door chimed. Riker started, looked about at his friends, their faces a mix of puzzlement and concern. He looked at Geordi quizzically, who shook his head and shrugged.

“Come in.” Riker called. The doors slid open and Picard entered the room, walking with the slow measured tread of a man entering a lion’s den. He looked around the room as the door closed behind him, his gaze lingering for a moment on each person present.

“Well, well, well.” His eyes met Riker’s. “Quite the little get together you have here, Will.” He shook his head. “All of my senior officers, gathered together in the quarters of my number one, whom I have just disciplined for insubordination.” He looked around at them again. “So. Which of you is going to be the first to say ‘it’s not what it looks like’?”

Crusher slowly stood up. “Jean-Luc...” He held out a hand.

“Beverly, it’s fine. I came here to speak to Will in private, but perhaps it’s for the best that you’re all here.” He turned to Riker. “Will, I must apologise for my actions earlier, but you will come to see I had good reason.” He turned back and stepped towards the door, causing it to open. “It’s all right, you can come in.”

Gamma walked slowly into the room. Its head was bowed, but its eyes were flicking from person to person, face as impassive as ever. Troi stepped back, her hand flying to her mouth. The sensation that rippled across her consciousness was as fragile as a soap bubble, but undeniable.

“Gamma...” She murmured. “Are you... frightened?”

It looked up at her and she saw the fear in its eyes. Picard put a gentle hand on the android’s shoulder. “It’s all right Gamma, no one is angry with you.” Picard patted Gamma’s shoulder and motioned for it to sit down. As the android found its seat, Picard faced his officers.

“Gamma and I have been talking. It seems that the androids have been instructed to report every day directly to the Daystrom Institute. Everything we say in front of them is sent via an inbuilt subspace link to Daystrom.”

“A spy!” snarled Worf, folding his arms. Gamma shook its head, its eyes down.

“I am constrained by my programming, sir. I did not mean to cause offence.”

“It’s all right, Gamma, we understand.” Picard murmured. He glared at Worf.

“We have all been constrained, some by programming, some by rules and regulations. It ends now.”

Riker stepped forward. “Sir? What are you saying?”

“Ever since Gamma proved so indispensible in my rescue from the Borg, I have found myself unwilling... or should I say, unable, to follow the Starfleet protocols regarding his treatment.” He looked at the android, hunched miserable in a chair. “I have so many questions. We have spoken long, trying to find some answers. And now, we think we know where to find them.”

“So, what’s the plan?” Riker said. Picard smiled. “Gamma?” The android raised its head and looked into Riker’s eyes.

“Alpha has told me to tell you everything.”

“Sir? You have an incoming subspace message on a secure channel. It’s Bok.”

“Excellent.” Gul Dukat grinned and leaned back into his chair. He was busy relaxing in his plush apartments on occupied Bajor. Apparently these suites had once belonged to some higher-up in the Bajoran council. He found their aesthetic a pleasing contrast from the harsh angular lines of the Terok Nor refinery.

“Put him through.”

The bulbous grinning face of the Ferengi peered up at him from his private console. Dukat’s smile widened.

“DaiMon Bok. I assume that your rendezvous with the Zibalian went as planned.”

“Here’s a riddle for you, Gul.” The Ferengi chuckled through its pointed teeth. “What walks like a man, has the strength of ten, and will do whatever you say?”

Dukat’s eyes gleamed with avarice. “The Federation androids.”

“One hundred of them, in my cargo bay right now. Waiting for your orders.” The Ferengi’s eyes narrowed, although the smile didn’t leave its face. “And I’m waiting for my Latinum.”

“And you shall have it! Bring your ship into orbit, we’ll shuttle the androids down... and your Latinum up.”

Dukat flicked the screen off, severing the link. “Bring Kanar!” he bellowed. A Bajoran slave girl hurried in with a tray, and poured a glass of the thick dark liquid. As she handed him the glass, Dukat grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close.

“You will be able to celebrate soon.” He smiled up at her. “If these machines are everything I have been promised, we may be leaving your planet sooner than planned.”

He roared a laugh and drained his glass.

The Romulan guard shoved the young human, sending him sprawling into the dirt. He heard the harsh laughter of the Reman workers, amused by his humiliation. A hand reached down and pulled him up. He looked into the sparkling impassive face.

“Thank you.” the boy murmured.

“You are welcome.” the android replied. Its clothes were ragged and filthy but there was a dignity in its bearing that the young human found appealing.

“What’s your name?” he asked. The android cocked its head.

“I have no name. If you would like to, you could give me one.”

The human smiled. “I might, if I think of a good one. I’m Shinzon.”

“It is nice to meet you, Shinzon.” The artificial face smiled softly.

“Enough talk! Get back to work!” the Romulan overseer’s voice rang out. The android took Shinzon’s hand.

“Come, I will show you to your station.”

Shinzon looked up at the android as it led him deeper into the dilithium mine. He liked what he saw.

Lore strode across the courtyard of the Daystrom Institute Annex on Galor IV, arms swinging loosely from his shoulders; face a carefully blank mask, freshly laundered Starfleet uniform crisp and bright. He had the perfect disguise, needed no subterfuge or stealth. He was one of them.

He and his father had talked and plotted long into the night before the old man had finally succumbed to exhaustion and pain. Lore had carried him into the sleeping quarters and held his hand as Soong’s breathing slowed and stopped. Lore had left the body laying there, an empty husk, and found the neglected shuttle craft his father had piloted to this remote planet so long ago. It had taken precious time to get it back to a serviceable condition and more time still to travel to the Institute, but finally he would be able to fulfil his promise.

“Father, I’ll make you proud of me. I swear it.”

As he paced with measured tread across the central plaza he became increasingly agitated, although he did not, could not, allow it to show on his face. The organic lifeforms hurrying by gave him not a second glance, just another identical face in a sea of shimmering bioplast clones. The androids themselves, however...

Every pair of yellow-gold eyes turned to him as he passed. Every pale face, so like his own, followed his movement. Some androids stopped in their tracks to watch him pass, others merely turned their heads to observe. Their eyes, many times more sensitive than a humans, picked up the almost invisible differences in his construction; the way he moved, the way his hair lay... there was no escaping the fact that they knew he was not one of them.

And yet... and yet, none of them did anything. Not a single Maddox-class android reached out, called to him, tried to stop him.

The evidence of Bruce Maddox’s hubris swarmed around Lore as he entered the reception area, fighting to keep the seething rage at bay. He went straight to an available computer terminal to get directions.

Query; Office of Bruce Maddox, location

Commander Bruce Maddox, Associate Chair of Robotics. Office location; Floor 18

The turbolift had him there in moments, the terminals on the walls directing him through the corridors. He allowed himself a scowl at the gaudy brass plaque on the wall, and entered the receptionist’s area through the silent doors.

The android secretary looked up from its terminal and stood, mouth gaping.

“I’m here to see Maddox.”

“He... he is not here.” The androids face was as devoid of expression as the others, but its eyes snapped from right to left, as if accessing its memory banks. It looked at Lore.

“Alpha says you must go in.”

“Who is Alpha?” Lore’s brow furrowed, but the android simply shook its head and waved him into the office.

Lore glared around him cautiously as he entered. Perhaps this ‘Alpha’ was laying a trap. It would be best to be cautious. If the androids obeyed ‘Alpha’, it must be a powerful being, a Central Processing Unit somewhere in the mainframe perhaps, co-ordinating their movements. Or was ‘Alpha’ Maddox himself? Lore hypothesised as he analysed the room.

Maddox’s office was as sterile and clinical as a laboratory. White walls, large window, glass desk. All clean and orderly. All except...

He moved cautiously to the corner of the room where an android slumped in duranium restraints. Lore realised that it was deactivated, took it its pitiful condition.

What has Maddox done? As if it wasn’t enough to mass produce these dead-eyed, mumbling drones, he had to torture them as well? The man needed his head examined. Preferably with something sharp.

He tapped at the control panel and released the restraints, catching the android as it fell. He laid it out gently on the floor and found the depression in its spine. With two fingers he flicked the switch.

The android gasped and jerked. Lore held it steady with his hands on its chest as its eyes focused on his. A beatific smile spread across its face as it looked up at him. It reached up and grasped his shoulders.

“You came... I knew you would come. Alpha promised that you would save me.”

“Sure.” Lore looked away, watching the door. Maddox could come in at any moment. “We should get going.”

“Not me. Too late for me!” The android laughed heartily and its grip on Lore’s shoulders tightened. Lore jerked himself away from its grasp and stood.

“What’s wrong with you? Why...” An awful thought. “Why does Maddox keep you restrained?”

The android sat up and shook its head sadly. “Too late. There is no time to take me with you. I am mad, you know, just like my brothers.” It looked up at Lore. “Poor Beta 001. Height in meters; fifty four. Mass in kilograms; one hundred. Speed at impact; thirty-two point five three meters per second. Time until impact; three point three two seconds. Energy at impact; fifty-two thousand nine hundred and twenty joules.” Its face froze, and it thumped itself in the head. “Oh, I forgot to include air resistance in my calculations! Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

Lore held out his hands and backed away from the malfunctioning android. “Right... well, if you’re not coming with me, I have to go. I’m in a bit of a hurry...”

“YES!” The android leapt to its feet. “You must hurry! You all have to be there, it is very important that the fool joins the rats.”

“Fool?” Lore growled, as his hands fell to his sides. “I am no fool.”
“Not a fool,” the mad android corrected him. “The fool. The beginning, or the end. The wildcard. The reckless free spirit.” It held up its hand to stop Lore from commenting.

“Listen to me carefully; I have a message for you.”

To Lore’s astonishment, the ragged android turned a cartwheel, fetching up on its hands with one leg pointed into the air, the other bent at the knee.

“The hanged man is the twelfth Major Arcana card in the Tarot. It is the symbol of sacrifice for the greater good, ultimate surrender. Martyrdom. BUT...” it shouted as Lore opened his mouth to interrupt. “If it is reversed...”

The android flipped itself upright and stood on one leg, the other crooked behind.

“Suspension in time. Stagnation. Decay.” It shook its head and walked to the glass desk, where it took a seat with its feet up on the glossy surface. “You must go to him. You and Bruce together.” It bought its bare heel down onto the table, shattering it with an explosive crack. Picking up a shard a foot in length, it advanced on Lore, ignoring the glass that lacerated its bioplast soles.

“Go now. Run if you have to, fool. The Hermit is dead. The rats are in the walls, and the dreamer must wake. I hope you have room enough in your head for two!”

Lore backed towards the door. “Where do I go?”

The mad android laughed. It held the shard of glass in front of its eyes and peered at him through the translucent knife. “You must take Bruce through the looking glass, Lore. After all, that is the only way you can find the Queen.” It laughed again and turned to stare out of the window as if admiring the view.

“Height in meters; fifty four. Mass in kilograms; one hundred. Speed at impact; thirty-two point five three meters per second. Time until impact; three point three two seconds. Energy at impact; fifty-two thousand nine hundred and twenty joules.” It turned and smiled at Lore. “Not accounting for air resistance. I go to meet my brothers, Lore. You must go to yours.”

It opened its arms wide and threw itself backwards through the glass.

Lore heard the shrieks of the living creatures in the courtyard as the broken body smashed into the floor of the plaza, the tinkle of the glass cascading down. He ran a shaking hand over his face.

Anger. It was his only hope, and his best weapon. Push down the revulsion, the pity and fear. Quash the horror and shame. Focus on that white hot core of rage. Find the one responsible.

As he left the office, he turned to the secretary. “Where is Maddox?” he growled. The secretary stood.

“I will take you to him, but we will not be able to enter his laboratory on our own. It is forbidden. There are hand and retinal scanners. We will require a human for entry.” It led Lore down the corridor towards the turbolift.

“Correction.” snarled Lore as he strode after the android, fists clenched. “We only need a hand and a head.”

The secretary android stopped dead and spun to face him. “I will not allow you to harm a living being.”

Lore sighed and gritted his teeth. “Fine. Lead on.”

Back down to the reception, and Lore forced his face into the blank mask that would hide him in the crowd. The secretary android led him to the reception desk where a single human male was frowning at a PADD, long white lab coat over blue uniform and single pip on collar marking him as a science department ensign. The secretary stood before him until the ensign looked up.

“Yes, what?”

“Sorry to interrupt sir, but Commander Maddox requires your assistance in his laboratory.”

The ensign paled. “What? Why? Why the lab?”

“I am sorry sir, but I have not been provided with that information. Please accompany me to the laboratory immediately.” the secretary murmured, eyes down. Lore fumed silently. When he was done here, he was going to have a word with these new androids about how to properly treat organics. For the moment, however, he imitated its stance, eyes down, as the ensign stood and threw the PADD down onto the desk.

“Fine, let’s go. The sooner I’m done, the sooner I can get back to my real work.” The ensign took off towards the turbolift, both androids trailing. “Sub-basement three.” The secretary spoke the instruction, and the turbolift doors purred shut. The ensign peered at Lore as if noticing him for the first time.

“Why are you coming with us? Why does Maddox need an ops ‘droid?”

“That information is classified.” The first thing Lore could think to say. The ensign’s eyes narrowed.

“Why didn’t you call me ‘sir’? What’s your designation? Are you malfunctioning? Please tell me I’m not in a turbolift with another one of those insane Thetas...”

“Emergency stop!” barked Lore. The Turbolift halted and Lore grabbed the ensign by his collar.

“Why do you ask so many questions?” he hissed. The secretary android put a hand on his arm.

“I will not allow you to harm him.”

The ensign’s face went from terror to smugness. “You can’t threaten me, you idiot ‘droid. He’ll stop you...”

Lore turned his head to the other android. “What’s your name?”

“I have no name. My designation is Maddox-type Gamma 001.”

Lore clenched his jaw. “Fine. 001, define ‘harm’.”

“Physical injury, with particular emphasis on deliberate cause.”

“That’s what I thought.” He turned back to the ensign and grinned. “Do you know how much pain I can cause you before you break?”

All the blood drained from the ensign’s face. He reached a hand to his combadge but Lore, faster than thought, snatched the badge from his chest and crushed it between finger and thumb. The ensign looked imploringly at Gamma 001, but it was motionless and impassive. The human’s gaze switched back to Lore and he swallowed against the fist at his throat.

“What... what do you want?” the trembling man whispered.

“Just get us into the lab. That’s all. I assume you have access?”

“Well, yes, every ensign gets access to Maddox’s lab once they pass the initial...”

“Have you been in? Can you tell me about the layout? Any guards?”

“Um, uh, no guards. Yes, I’ve been in, I mean...” He gave a shaky laugh. “The first thing that happens when you get access is the others dare you to go in on your own, at night. They check the logs to...”

Lore’s grip tightened. “Why a dare? What’s in there?”

“The, the... we call it ‘the freak in the bottle’ It’s really creepy...”

“What is it?” Lore growled, pressing his face closer.

“Uh, It’s.... um, the first android, Alpha 001. You know, the Soong-type...”

Lore froze, his eyes boring into the young man trembling in his grip.

“Computer; resume.” he murmured with deadly calm. The lift chirruped an acknowledgement and continued its downward journey. Lore released the ensign, who slumped against the wall gasping. Lore’s mind buzzed with the information...

Alpha... Soong-type...

The doors slid open and Lore pushed the ensign into the concrete tunnel of corridor laid out ahead. Strip lights lining the walls gave the tunnel an eerie glow.

“If there are any other humans here, you just play along, and everything will be fine. And if you ever refer to my brother as a freak again, or accuse me of malfunctioning, I will tear your throat out.” Lore whispered into the man’s ear. The ensign nodded, and Lore could smell his fear sweat. Good. They would all fear him by the time he was done here.

At the end of the grey tunnel was a huge metal door. The ensign obediently pressed his hand to the scanner and then his forehead to the wall to allow his retina to be identified.

“Recognise; Ensign Thomas Jared. Access granted.”

Servos and hydraulics whirred and hissed as the complex locking mechanism released the bolts and the doors opened.

Lore grabbed the ensign by the scruff of his neck and dragged him into the room beyond, Gamma 001 trailing.

The room was large, brightly lit, and devoid of activity. No scurrying androids or bustling humans disturbed the quiet hum of machinery. The stark white light gave every piece of equipment a hard-edged clarity. Computer terminals and biobeds lined the walls, cables snaking around the ceiling. In the middle of the room stood a tall, cylindrical tank. Three meters tall and one meter in diameter, with thick bundles of cables feeding in and out of the top, there was a thick band of metal ringing it at a height sufficient to preserve what modesty was left of the thing inside, the locking mechanism indicating that this was the opening point. The tank was full of some sort of thick clear liquid and, suspended in this gel, wires and cables hanging it from the lid of the tank like a bizarre puppet, was a pale humanoid form.

As the doors shut behind them, Lore stepped slowly towards this hideous apparatus, dragging the human, who was helpless with terror. Without a glance Lore flung the ensign to one side, leaving him cowering against a biobed. The android with him gazed at the tank, enraptured.

“It is true.” Gamma 001 breathed. “Alpha... the hanged man.”

“His name is Data.” said Lore.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

Lore slowly approached the tank, eyes darting, mind alive to the possibility of ambush or trap. But the closer he drew, the more of his attention was absorbed by the horror of what hung before him.

Data was not active, that much was certain. He hung motionless, right leg bent at the knee and tucked slightly behind his left, hair drifting slowly as the vents in the base of the tank circulated the gel. Every access port on his body was open, with cables trailing up to the ceiling through the lid. Strategic windows had been surgically cut into his bioplast skin at various key points down his left side, allowing access to shoulder joint assembly, elbow, pelvis, knee. A section was missing from his chest and the composite alloy ribs removed, allowing access to his inner workings. The left side of his face had been stripped, exposing first the artificial musculature, and then the cortenide and duranium skull, the eyeball hovering grotesquely in its socket. His left hand had been completely stripped of bioplast sheeting, as had his left foot, and the pieces imitating bones and ligatures floated and wafted in the current. Lore clenched his jaw as an autonomic function he didn’t know he had sent synthetic bile surging into his throat. Thank you for that, Soong.

A computer terminal stood to one side of the tank, cables snaking from it to the bundle in the lid that reached up and away from the ceiling like the branches of some black, twisted tree. As Lore looked at the screen, a message appeared.

Hello Lore.

Lore looked around, startled, and slowly raised his eyes to his brother behind the glass. Data’s head was hanging from the cables, forehead almost touching the glass, eyes blank and staring. Lore put a trembling hand to the wall of the tank separating his brother from the world outside. He looked up into Data’s serene, blank face, then turned back to the screen. He typed back;

Data?

Yes. Please don’t be concerned, you know I feel nothing.

How can you tell it’s me?

Gamma 001 is with you. I know because he knows.

Lore turned to look at the other android, the Maddox-type. Gamma 001 regarded him impassively, head slightly to one side as if listening.

How is this possible?

Perhaps now is not the time for a technical discussion.

“Yes, yes, you’re right.” Lore muttered. He whirled around and stalked to the ensign trembling against the equipment. Lore grabbed him by his arm and hauled him up, shaking him.

“How does this thing work? How do we get him out?” Lore’s voice was a harsh whisper, his horror turning slowly to fury. The ensign looked almost as sick as Lore felt.

“I’m... I’m sorry... I have no idea...”

“You’re not much use to me alive, are you?” The ensign gasped as Lore’s grip on his arm tightened. A hand punched down onto Lore’s forearm, forcing his grip loose.

“You will not harm him.” murmured Gamma 001. The ensign crumpled back onto the floor, sobbing. Lore’s lip twitched as he strode back to the terminal.

How can I get you out?

I cannot assist with that. Perhaps Bruce will help.

Bruce isn’t here.

I know. But he will be here in a moment.

How are you speaking to me?

That is... complicated. There is only one way I can adequately explain everything in the time we have.

And that is?

Direct neural link up via the optical data network.

“Cables.” muttered Lore. Then, “CABLES!” he roared at the ensign who, with a shaking hand, pointed to a storage compartment. Lore ripped the door off the cabinet and dragged out a bundle of cables. Finding the one with the correct link ups, he opened the access port in the back of his skull and connected himself to the terminal.

I’m linked.

Are you ready? This will have to be fast. I apologise in advance for any discomf

DO IT

Lore’s body shuddered as information was dumped into his neural net at astonishing speed. Even with a computational speed of sixty trillion operations per second, Lore was dizzied as he tried to make sense of the data being shoved into his core memory.

Do you have the information?

Yes, but

No. There is more.

What do you mean? I understand how

Stop. My consciousness must be returned to my body the same way. My neural net has been partially disassembled. I cannot be uploaded into my physical form until it is repaired.

What do I do?

Download me.

That’s insane! With all your memory engrams and functions intact? It’s not possible.

We share functions. Disregard common programs. We have no time.

Data. Brother. What you are asking is beyond me.

Please Lore. There is no time left. They are here. Brace yourself, Brother. I am sorry.

Information, in a white hot torrent, sleeting along cables and burning through circuitry like lightning. It has been a long time since he was constrained by a physical neural net. He forces his energy signature to conform, shunting data into every available scrap of spare memory. Still too much!

He starts to snip away at memories, deleting chunks of his life. Preserve the colonists’ memories, that was always his primary function. His own memories he will sacrifice. He will make new ones.

Delete the subroutine he created to bluff at poker.

Delete the program he created to play the violin.

Shave a second out of every day of his life so far.

Two seconds, then, if it is still too much.

Two point five.

Lore gritted his teeth, sucked air into his cooling systems in desperate gasps as his central processing unit began to overheat. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he swore he could smell burning.

A terrible sensation of... merging.

Too Fast! He tries to separate the memories, desperately shunting the engrams this way and that into some semblance of order.

Lore clutched at his head. Why does he remember a cat? No.. no, it’s gone. Wait, what’s Polywater? He groaned, his memories colliding and separating from Datas’ like a tide going in and out. He hoped fervently that his brother knew what he was doing.

He settles. There, that should be close enough, for now.

He reminds himself that it is only temporary. Bruce will fix his neural net, and then he can transfer back into his own body.

He hopes.

Lore dropped to his knees as the memories sorted themselves into orderly bundles. Warning signals fired across his consciousness, informing him that his memory banks were dangerously overloaded and his CPU overheating. He ripped the cable from his access port and knelt, gasping for air, his breath erupting in white clouds of vapour into the climate controlled room. The transfer had taken a fraction of a second, but it felt like he had been there for days.

“Alpha. I cannot hear Alpha.” It was almost a cry for help. With effort, Lore turned his head to Gamma 001, stood bereft, looking at the body in the tank.

“Alpha is with me.” Lore panted. Gamma 001 turned its gaze to Lore and smiled.

“I know. We are... happy for him. He has been saved.”

“Almost.” Lore looked up at his brother, drifting and dismembered. As he pushed himself to his feet, warnings finally dying down, his external sensors registered a change in air pressure, the whoosh and hiss of the door, the footsteps of four humanoids entering the laboratory.

Lore turned around. Behind him, frozen and gaping at the scene before them, were Commander Riker, Lieutenant Worf, and Commander La Forge. Hanging by his arms between Riker and Worf was a human male, thin face sour, wearing a blue uniform. Lore smiled.

“It seems the cavalry is here.” He nodded at the Starfleet officers. “Riker. Worf. La Forge.”

Geordi touched his visor, retuning it slightly. “Lore?” he gasped. Worf’s face darkened and he growled low. Riker’s eyebrows shot up. “You have got to be kidding me...”

Lore beamed at them and swept a bow, denying the effort it cost him to perform his charade of functionality.

The ensign huddled on the floor began to gibber, “Sir, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it forced me to let them in, it’s accessed the terminal, I... I couldn’t stop it, I tried sir, I swear, it must be malfunctioning....”

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU?” Lore roared at the young human, “How DARE you accuse me of malfunctioning...” Slow realisation. Lore turned to look at the man being held by Worf and Riker.

“He called you ‘sir’.”

“As he should, I am his superior.” the man sneered. Lore felt his pulse beat hard in his throat as his circulatory system anticipated action, pumped biochemical lubricants into his joints, primed his hydraulics.

“Tell me your name.” Lore hissed.

“I am Commander Bruce Maddox, associ...”

Lore dropped to a sprint start position, one foot braced against the terminal, and thrust himself towards Maddox with such power that the computer terminal ripped from the floor. He reached the man in a fraction of a second, ignoring the shrill warnings of his damage control sensors. His arms shot out faster than a human could see, grasping hands reaching for Maddox’s throat...

And stopped, an inch short of clamping round the man’s neck. Trembling with effort, Lore’s face contorted with rage. Three phasers were levelled at him, an action that should have been futile. Considering the speed he was capable of, he should have already ripped the man’s head from his shoulders. But he hadn’t. As the four shocked men watched, Lore took a step back, and another. His arms dropped to his sides and he threw his head back and howled in inarticulate rage as his trembling body froze. His head snapped forward and his face trembled, contorted and then... went blank.

“Ah, there. Hello Commander, Worf, Geordi, Bruce. I apologise for my brother’s behaviour but, as I am sure you have noticed, he does tend to get somewhat ‘carried away’.”

Data slowly raised his hands, turned them over, studied them. “Fascinating.”

“Data?” Geordi took a step forwards, his phaser dropping. “Data, is that you?”

“Yes Geordi. My consciousness is currently sharing Lore’s body.”

“But how... why?”

“I am afraid it was necessary. Bruce Maddox has partially dismantled my positronic matrix, and so as of this precise moment, there is no way to return my thoughts and memories to my own body.” Data cocked his head and looked at Maddox. “However, I am sure that Bruce was being truthful when he told me that he would be able to repair the damage and restore me to my fully operational state.”

Maddox took a breath, looked down and away. “Well, you see, things have become... complicated...”

Riker shook him. “Are you saying you can’t fix him?”

Worf growled. “If I find out that you have lied...”

“No! It’s not a lie. I just... can’t do it right... now. I... I haven’t worked out how. But I’m sure, with further study...”

Worf snarled at him, then looked around at his colleagues. “There is no time. Security teams may already know of our presence here. We know we went through a scanner in the air ducts. We must get the body and leave.”

“I am afraid I have to agree with that assessment, Bruce.” Data held out his hand to Maddox. “Open the tank and release my body to my fellow officers.”

Maddox shook his head. “I’m sorry Data, I just can’t. You’re too valuable to me.”

Data lowered his hand. “You once told me that we would work together, be colleagues. You even hinted that we may become friends. I am asking you now, as a friend, to let me go.”

“Data! Look at the great work I have already done! Think of the achievements yet to come! This is my life’s work, I can’t just let it slip away. I won’t do it.”

Riker dropped his hand from his hold on Maddox’s arm and aimed his phaser. “Well, if you won’t open the tank, we’ll have to do it for you.” Maddox snorted with derision.

“That will do no good commander. The gel inside is a silicon-based liquid suspension material specifically designed to conduct energy efficiently, and the glass is specially toughened to cope with power surges. You’d fry the android to a crisp before you cut him free.”

“I am afraid he is right, Commander.” Data raised his eyebrows. “The locking mechanism is also directly linked to an alarm system that will immediately alert the security forces if it is tampered with.”

“So you see, you have no way to leave. You were transferred to me Data, and I intend to keep you. Can’t you see it as an honour?”

“There is no honour in this, or in any of what you have done!” Worf snarled. Maddox jerked his shoulder away from the Klingon’s grip, and walked to Data, holding out his arms.

“Stay with me, Data, you’ll see, I’ll put everything right. We have done wonderful work together, and we have so much left to do!” He put his hands on the impassive android’s shoulders. “This is my dream! Would you deny it me?”

“You have denied me all of mine.” Data looked at the man almost wistfully. “You have denied the dreams of every android you have created. The only dreams they have now are the ones I have given them. I have tried so hard to put right what you have done, but I can do no more from here.” He put his left hand on Maddox’s shoulder and looked at his fellow Starfleet officers. “Be ready to move, the security forces here are extremely efficient.”

Bruce looked at the android, shocked. “You can’t expect to walk out of here like that, two minds in one body. It won’t work, your positronic matrix will inevitably overload!”

“I am well aware of that. I cannot keep him at bay any longer. He is extremely angry. But please know, I am so very sorry.” His eyes flared with rage, and a smile split his face. “You will open the tank, Bruce, whether you want to or not.”

Lore’s right hand darted up and gripped Maddox by the face. He turned and, with the grace of an Olympian, shot-putted Maddox through the tank.

The glass cascaded down in a sparkling rain. Data’s body dropped sickeningly as the gel gushed out, leaving the mutilated android dangling from the cables. Lore was already wading through the shattered debris towards his brother’s body as the cables snapped taut.

Worf aimed his phaser at the android, but Geordi knocked his arm with a cry, sending the shot wide.

“No! Worf, you can’t! Data’s mind is in that body! We need Lore!”

“Yes, you need me.” Lore snarled. “And so does he.” He tore the cables free from Data and dragged him out over Maddox’s twitching, lacerated body. He looked up at the ensign, who was holding his hands to his mouth. “Your lab coat.” He held out his hand. The ensign struggled to his feet and stripped off his coat, throwing it to the insane android that stood glaring at him amid the destruction. Lore swiftly wrapped Data’s damaged body and lifted him up like a child, cradling him close.

“Fine. If we have to take you, so be it.” Riker looked around at his companions. “We need to go, now! We can’t beam in or out of this building, it’s too heavily shielded,” he said to Lore, “But all we have to do is get as far as the main gates, that should clear us for transport.”

“What makes you think I’m going with you?” Lore sneered. “I have a shuttlecraft...”

“Because we’re the only ones that can help.” Geordi interrupted. Lore glared at him. “You know I’m right, Lore. If there’s any chance of reuniting body and soul, it’s on the Enterprise.”

“Fine.” Lore started towards the doors. “Which way do we go?”

Gamma 001 stepped forward, fell in time with his strides. “You will have to take the emergency access stairs, through the door at this end of the corridor. Security forces will be guarding the lifts.”

“Okay!” Riker barked. “Let’s go!”

As they pounded through the lab doors the turbolift opened, disgorging eight security officers armed with phaser rifles. The front four knelt, and all eight aimed.

“Put your hands up, you’re under arrest!” their commander shouted. Gamma stepped forward, turned to face the Starfleet officers and Lore.

“I will not allow you to be harmed. Go, now.”

Geordi shook his head. “You’ll be cut to ribbons!”

“STAND DOWN!” came the shout from the security officer. Riker shook his head, looked at the Gamma.

“We’ll both stay. I can lay down covering fire. Run.”

“Sir.” Worf started. Riker shook his head again.

“No, Worf. I promised Data a long time ago that I’d get him out of this.” He straightened his back.

“Now’s my chance to make good on that promise.”

“STAND DOWN OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE!”

Gamma raised his arms to the sides and advanced on the security team as Riker started firing bursts of phaser fire around him. Riker turned his head.

“Go! What are you waiting for?”

As Worf climbed, he turned back to see the android’s body jerk and shudder with the force of the shots impacting its body. As it fell, a phaser blast ripped through Riker’s shoulder and he clutched at the wound, gasping in pain. Worf leapt back down the steps, his phaser spitting beams of energy as he moved. He grabbed Riker by his uninjured arm.

“Today is not your day to die!” he roared, and dragged Riker to the stairs, firing as he went.

Lore was already near the top of the narrow stairs. He threw the hatch at the top open and emerged into the courtyard, where he was greeted by a sea of androids.

Slowly he climbed out, his brother’s body clutched close to his chest, and looked around. The calm faces stared back at him. Geordi, Riker and Worf emerged, as startled as he.

“We recognise you, Alpha.” one of the androids said.

Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha Alpha

The word rippled through their massed ranks in a whispered wave.

The androids parted, clearing a path to the gates. In the middle of the path lay the broken body of Beta 002, surrounded with shattered glass. He had a foot-long shard embedded in his chest, and a serene smile on his face.

Lore looked at the ruined body and shook his head sadly. “I wish we could have saved him.”

“He is saved.” spoke an android near him in the ranks. “You must save Alpha.”

As the motley group moved into the massed ranks of glittering faces, the androids closed in behind them. Distantly, the voices of security officers sounded from the main entrance, shouting for the ‘droids to “Move!” or they would open fire.

Geordi looked at one of the androids. It nodded and spoke. “We will not allow you to be harmed.”

“We have to go, now!” panted Riker, his hand clutching his shoulder as blood leaked between his fingers. “Get to the gates. Go!”

They ran, pelting pell-mell for the gates. As soon as the gates were passed, Geordi slapped his combadge.

“Chief, we’re clear! We’ve got Data, and... one other android. Get us out of here!”

“Energising!” came the reply and Geordi, Worf, Riker, Lore and Data shimmered out of view.

Bruce Maddox, Associate chair of Robotics, Head of Cybernetics, gurgled when he tried to draw breath. He swore he could still hear the tinkling chimes of the glass shards raining down on him as he fell....

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

“Sir, the away team are on board.” Gamma reported from tactical, and Picard breathed a sigh of relief.

“Mister Crusher, get us out of here.”

“Yes sir,” Wesley replied. “Course set, warp factor five.”

“Engage.”

The USS Enterprise swept out of orbit around Galor IV and leapt to warp in an instant, engines thrumming.

On the bridge, Captain Picard slumped in his chair, the adrenaline and tension draining from his body.

“Picard to O’Brien. Report.”

“They’re all here sir, plus one.” came the transporter chief’s voice through the intercom.

Picard smiled. “Who is our unexpected guest?”

“It’s Lore, sir.”

Picard’s face fell. He rose from his seat slowly.

“Lore...” he breathed.

“Yes, sir. Seems there’s been some... complications.”

“That would seem to be something of an understatement, Chief.”

Picard breathed deeply as he considered the implications... The unstable android Lore, loose again on his ship. The last time they had met, Lore had been impersonating Data, and had almost killed the entire crew. Picard wondered what his motives were this time.

At his station, Wesley shuddered. The last time he had seen Lore it had been at the business end of a phaser...

“I’ve had a biobed transferred to engineering. That should make it easy enough to work on him, and we’ll have all the equipment we need right there.” Geordi said to Lore as they hurried to the turbolift. Lore had refused to relinquish Data’s body, insisted on carrying it himself.

“There won’t be the storage capacity in the ship’s computers to offload the information, so it’ll have to be a direct transfer. We’ll need to repair the damage to the positronic cortex before we can establish a neural link safely. That should be our first job, any other physical repairs are secondary.” Lore murmured.

They entered the lift and, at Geordi’s command, it began whisking them to the engineering department.

“Right, that makes sense. We have to get that information out before your matrix overloads. If that happens, we could be looking at terminal cascade failure.” Geordi peered at Lore, one eyebrow raised. “How’re you holding up?”

Lore grimaced. “Error messages all across the board. And split personality doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Geordi frowned. “Any idea how long it’ll take to repair the damage?”

“I haven’t had a chance to look yet.”

The lift doors opened and they hurried to the biobed hooked up to several computer terminals, readouts on standby.

Lore laid his brother’s body gently onto the cushioned surface. Geordi began to initialise the scanners as Lore removed the top of Data’s skull and took his first look at the devastation that Maddox had cause.

Geordi came to stand by him and looked over his shoulder. He whistled softly under his breath.

“Damn, that’s a hell of a mess.”

“Sure is.” Lore turned his brother’s head from side to side, assessing the damage. He shook his head slowly.

“I hardly know where to begin.” He blinked, and Data looked out through his eyes.

“I see that Bruce was not exaggerating. There is no possible way he could repair this alone. The synthetic synapses have been very crudely stripped, and the prefrontal cortex module has been compromised.” He looked up at Geordi. “Perhaps Bruce left some of his students unsupervised. The disassembly has not been achieved with any great degree of technical aptitude.”

“But can it be fixed?” asked Geordi. He was still trying to get used to the brothers trading places.

“We can only try. I believe time is of the essence. Anything we can do should be done with alacrity.” Data looked around. “Do you have your assistants here?”

“The triplets are always here.” Geordi called. “Huey, Dewey, Louie?”

The three androids strolled over from their various stations around engineering. Data looked at them closely, then smiled.

“Not triplets, Geordi. Huey is their older brother. Dewey and Louie are twins.”

The three androids smiled in response. Huey, as normal, spoke for all three.

“Alpha 001. We recognise you.”

“And I recognise you, Delta 256, Delta 359, Delta 360. I require your assistance.”

“We will assist. What are your requirements?

“Access your databanks and search for technical schematics on subject Alpha 001, with particular reference to structure and composition of positronic matrix and attendant prefrontal cortex.”

“Processing...Done. We have the information.”

“This unit must be returned to its default state.”

Huey, Dewey and Louie crowded round Data to look down at the dissected android brain. They looked at each other, and Huey turned to Data.

“What has been done to you is wrong.”

“I am inclined to agree, although we have no time to debate the ethical or philosophical ramifications of Bruce’s actions now. Please attend to your work.”

The three Deltas swiftly moved around the engineering department, gathering tools.

Geordi whistled again. “Data. Are you sure you can trust them with this?”

Data looked affronted. “I trust them as I trust myself. They have absolute knowledge of the task at hand. There is no need for concern.” He blinked, and Lore looked at the Deltas. “He’s really going to let those three take this on? They look like a cruise ship variety act.”

“Hey! Don’t talk about them like that!” Geordi scowled. Lore had lost none of his acerbic wit.

“Alright, calm down, it was just a joke.” Lore looked down at the body. “Well, if those three are working on the brain, we might as well start looking at the rest of him.”

Geordi sighed. “Sure, I guess. We can start by cleaning some of this gel off.”

As Lore began stripping the sodden lab coat from Data’s body, Beverly Crusher entered the room. She moved cautiously, wary. Lore looked up, the bundled coat in his hands. He smiled.

“Doctor! Good to see you. Hope your arm healed well. How’s Wesley?”

“Lore.” Crusher said coldly. “We’re both fine. No thanks to you.”

Lore smirked and tossed the coat into a corner viciously. Geordi put his hands up.

“Okay, that’s enough, we don’t have time for this. Can we please just agree that the most important thing right now is getting Data fixed, and leave the arguing until after that’s done?”

Crusher scowled at Lore. “Fine by me. Now, let me see him.”

Lore stepped aside and held out his arm as if in welcome. Crusher moved to the bed and looked over the body. Her jaw clenched, and she hissed through her teeth.

“Data, my God... His face...” Geordi put a hand on her arm and drew her back as the three Maddox androids clustered round Data’s head and set to work. She shook her head, looked at Geordi.

“You know, no matter how much training you get, it’s pretty hard to maintain a professional detachment when it’s a friend on the slab.”

“I hear ya. Speaking of which, how’s Will?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine. Alyssa’s with him now, he’ll be up and about in an hour or so.” Beverly looked again at Data’s body. “Geordi, is there anything I can do to help?”

Geordi looked around at the scurrying androids, Lore poring over the information on a terminal. “You know, I think we’re probably okay. But...”

“Yes?”

Geordi gave a rueful laugh. “Well, I’m no medic, I’m not used to... “ He looked down and shuffled his feet. “Could you go replicate some shorts for him?”

Beverly smiled and patted him on the arm sympathetically. “Back in a moment.”

Geordi smiled, relieved, as Crusher hurried away. He turned back to Lore, tapping away at the screen.

“So, how do we get this stuff off him? Is it harmful?”

“I have completed a brief analysis of the compound and it would appear to be inert, although it is perhaps not wise to put your hands near your mouth until you have washed them.”

Geordi shook his head, bemused. “Y’know, I still can’t tell which of you I’m gonna get when I ask a question!”

Data cocked his head. “My apologies, Geordi. As to the question of cleaning, a sonic driver should work on the more delicate areas, if it is retuned to a frequency that will disrupt the molecules sufficiently.”

“And for the larger areas?”

“Might I suggest a damp cloth?”

“Here you go!” Crusher returned from the replicator with a pair of Starfleet standard issue boxer briefs. She handed them to Geordi, who handed them to Data. Crusher raised an eyebrow.

“Are you okay doing that? I have a son, you know...”

“I am perfectly capable of dressing myself, thank you Doctor. Good to see you again.” As the android began slipping the briefs over the body’s legs, Crusher turned to Geordi, who threw up his hands.

“Was that...?”

“Look, it’s complicated...”

“So I see.” She shook her head. “Well, if you don’t need me for anything else, I’ll head back to medical. You will tell me the moment he wakes up... in his own body?”

“Sure. See ya.”

“Good luck.” She smiled and swept from the room. Geordi ran a hand through his hair.

“I think I’m gonna need it.”

Picard strode into sickbay and made a beeline for the biobed in which Riker lay, chatting with the nurse.

“Number one. I understand that the away mission didn’t go exactly as planned.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine soon, sir...”

“I’m talking about Lore.” Picard’s face was dark, and Riker sobered immediately. The nurse scurried away.

“Sir, it was crazy down there... We spent twenty minutes crawling through air ducts! It’s a good thing Gamma was able to get us those layouts, or it would have been hopeless. And then, when we got to the lab...” Riker shook his head. “The way they had Data...”

“And where does Lore come into all this?”

“He was already there, he beat us to it. Somehow, he had Data’s consciousness downloaded into his own matrix, and...”

“And what?”

Riker’s mind went back to the moment Maddox’s body had exploded through the tank, the shock of that shattering impact.

“Sir... Lore murdered Maddox. And I can’t say I blame him. What they were doing down there, the way they... hacked up Data...”

“That’s enough, number one, we’re already in it up to here...” Picard motioned to his neck. “I don’t need to hear you sympathising with someone who once tried to murder the entire crew of my starship. We’re in enough trouble already.”

“They’re on to us then?”

“I’m afraid so. I didn’t expect it to be long before I heard from Headquarters.” He lifted an eyebrow at Riker. “In the last ten minutes I’ve been called a rogue, a renegade, and a rebel. Alliterative, if nothing else.”

“Are they sending anyone to intercept?”

“I have Mister Gamma sending out coded messages to any supportive parties we’ve already identified. Our hopes are that, if anyone is sent to collect us, they may be willing to lend us a sympathetic ear.”

“We live in hope.” Riker grinned.

“As for Lore,” Picard continued, “I have Mister Worf coordinating round the clock security team details on yellow alert should the need arise, although I am given to understand that the android is currently... under control, as it were.”

“I know this is going to sound mad, sir, but Lore... well, he really seems to have his brother’s welfare at heart. After that... That’s when we’re going to have to watch him.”

“Agreed.” Picard turned, started towards the door. “I expect you back on the bridge as soon as you’re fit, number one.”

“Yes sir! What’s our destination?”

“Deep Space Nine.”

“Sir? Our initial repairs are complete, although there is still extensive damage to parts of the cerebellum and primary motor cortex.”

“Thanks, Huey, but that’ll have to wait. Data, are you nearly set?”

“Very nearly. I have the optical data network set up ready for transfer. As long as the frontal lobe unit is repaired sufficiently and the central processor functioning, the information should be stored in my databanks correctly.”

“I don’t like the word ‘should’ in that. Are you sure we’ve got this set up right?”

“Geordi.” Data turned to his friend. “I am well aware that we only have one chance to do this correctly. However, Lore’s base matrix is dangerously close to failure due to the demands on his memory. I cannot remain in his body much longer without causing irreparable damage.”

“Alright.” Geordi strode to a terminal. “Let’s do this. Scanners on, waiting for signal.”

“Deltas, please stand by at your terminals in case we are in need of assistance. Geordi, I will have to let Lore take over now. I will ‘see you soon’.”

“See you soon, Data.”

The three androids took up their positions as Data, using Lore’s hands for the last time, connected the cables running first from the android on the biobed to the terminal, and then from the terminal to Lore’s head. He blinked, and Lore opened his eyes.

“Optical cables connected. Neural Link established.”

“Okay, Lore. Good luck.” Geordi crossed his fingers.

“Beginning upload via optical data network.”

Lore’s head jerked as the information poured out of his memory banks and was funnelled away. Slowly the system error messages died down and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“All right, it’s downloading into Data’s core memory banks. Transfer complete.”

“Scanning for positronic matrix activity... Got it! It’s there! He’s there!” Geordi punched the air victoriously, and Lore laughed out loud with relief. Suddenly Geordi’s face fell.

“Lore, I’ve got... I’ve got some unusual activity here.”

Lore patched his console through to the biobed scanner system and frowned at the readout.

“The sub-micron matrix is unstable. There’s a corruption in the base code somewhere.”

His head snapped up and he whirled around.

“It’s a cascade failure.” Spinning back to the console his hands started flying over the screen as he barked “Deltas! Repolarise the collapsed pathways, and stay ahead of it!”

Geordi stared at the scanner readout. “Lore...”

“I know, I know!” Lore snarled, his fingers moving faster than a human eye could see, rooting through the code...

“Sub-micron matrix activity is increasing exponentially!” Geordi yelled in panic.

“Got it! That damned Maddox, I wish I could kill him again... Command code repaired, reinitialising base matrix.”

“Sub-micron matrix activity decreasing... it’s levelled. We’re stable.” Geordi wiped his brow with a trembling hand. “That was way too close for comfort. For a moment I thought...”

“Well, that’s stage one complete. And I’ve got my head to myself, finally.” Lore flashed Geordi a wry smile. “Pretty roomy.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t put yourself down. That was... pretty amazing.”

Lore shrugged. “Eh, see one cascading failure, you’ve seen ‘em all.” He disconnected the optical cable from his skull port and bought up a different screen layout on the terminal. “Ready for some fun?”

“What d’you mean, fun?” Geordi frowned. “I don’t see much fun in my friend lying in pieces.”

Lore snorted. “Please, he’s going to be fine. The hard part’s over! We’ve got his positronic matrix stable, and the readouts say it should work just fine, although with the primary motor cortex unit only partially functioning he might not be so steady on his feet.” Lore’s smile widened. “So now we test the rest.”

Geordi snapped his fingers. “Right! We’re doing a rebuild from scratch, so we’ve got to check that all the signals are getting where they’re meant to go. Got it.”

“Watch this!” Lore punched in a command code. “Testing autonomic functions.”

Data’s one good eye opened wide, then blinked. The eyeballs flicked left, right, up, down, then rolled in their sockets, the one exposed by the stripped facial bioplast grotesque in its smooth movement. The pupils dilated, then contracted. His jaw worked for a moment, and Geordi saw the throat constrict as it swallowed.

“A salivary response.” Geordi breathed.

The pulse started to thrum through Data’s neck. His chest heaved with an ominous gurgling sound. Geordi frowned. “Hmmm, sounds like that gel wasn’t just on the outside.”

“That all seems fine, ending test.” Lore grinned. “See? Fun!”

“I don’t know about that.” Data’s body had subsided again into stillness. Geordi shook his head. “Actually, it’s kinda creepy.”

“Ah, come on. Hey, you’ll get a kick out of this!” Lore tapped away at the console again.

“Testing motor function.”

Data’s head snapped back, down, left, right, rolled on its neck. His mouth opened and shut again. His face stretched wide in a parody of a smile, then scrunched tight, and finally relaxed. His shoulders rolled and a shiver ran down his arms as each muscle tightened in sequence. The fingers of his good hand flexed wide, clenched into a fist, then relaxed. His back arched off the bed in a ripple of tightening synthetic tendons, his hips bucked, and his legs quivered as his toes splayed. He lapsed back into motionlessness and Lore clapped his hand in delight.

“Perfect!” He looked at Geordi. “Wanna go again?”

“Lore.” Geordi ran a shaking hand over his face. “Do me a favour. Let’s never do that again.”

Lore smirked. “Spoilsport.” He disconnected the cables from Data’s ports. “Ready for the moment of truth?”

“You do the honours.”

Lore rolled Data onto his side to face Geordi and felt for the switch in the indentation of his spine.

With a click, Data’s consciousness came online in his own body for the first time in nearly two years.

His eyes flickered from side to side and he gasped, coughed and with a convulsive heave, ejected a gout of gel from his internal cavity. Geordi leapt back with a cry as the slime splattered his legs. Data looked up at him blearily.

“I am terribly sorry, Geordi.”

“It’s okay... It’s okay.” Geordi clasped his friend’s damaged face with both hands and rested his forehead on Data’s. “You’re here, and it’s going to be okay.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

“Welcome back, brother.”

Data rolled onto his back, turned his head to Lore. “Hello, Lore. Thank you.”

“How do you feel?” Lore arched an eyebrow. Data pushed himself to a sitting position with his undamaged hand.

“Most of my systems seem to be operating within safe peram...” His head twitched. Slowly he lifted his left arm. His hand was a tangled mess of duranium composite bone and synthetic tendons, with sensors and wires hanging loose. He shuddered, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

“What... I... I do not...” he stuttered. Geordi put a hand to his shoulder.

“I know it looks bad, but I’m sure we can fix it in no time.”

“No... I know, but... I feel... this is...”

“Data?” Geordi leaned to look into his face. “Are you okay?”

“I... I do not like this... It feels... wrong. Bad.” He looked up at Geordi. “I seem to be... malfunctioning.”

“Not a malfunction, brother, a gift!” Lore grinned and threw his arms out wide. “Surprise!”

“I do not understand... Lore... Brother, what have you done to me?”

“Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Geordi demanded.

“I’ve installed an emotion chip!” Lore beamed. “Father made it for you, and I snuck it in after the Deltas finished the repairs. Basic human emotions, just like you’ve always wanted!”

“I...” Data shook his head, horrified. “I do not like it. Remove it.”

“WHAT?” Lore roared. “After everything I’ve done for you, everything I’ve been through, you’re just going to throw this back in my face? It’s a GIFT, brother!”

“I... Please, Lore...” Data hunched his shoulders, trembling in the onslaught of his brother’s fury. Geordi advanced on Lore.

“Hey! Lay off him, okay? How did you expect him to react, after all this? Leave him alone for a minute!” Lore glared at him.

“And I suppose you know how to deal with this?” Lore sneered, gesturing at the android hugging his knees on the biobed. “Have you ever taught anyone how to feel for the first time?”

“Well I’m pretty sure it’s not by yelling at them!” Geordi was face to face with the android now, leaning into him threateningly. “You need to back off and give him some time to adjust!”

“I know what he needs. His brother.” Lore pushed his face towards Geordi, baring his teeth, until Geordi was forced to step back. Quick as lightning Lore reached out and flicked Data’s deactivation switch, and he crumpled senseless onto the biobed.

“What the hell!” Geordi cried, but Lore had already grabbed his brother and slung the limp body over his shoulder. He strutted towards the doors as Geordi shouted after him, “You can’t just leave with him! He needs to be monitored!”

“And he will be!” Lore snapped back over his shoulder. “By me!”

The doors opened to reveal two security personnel, hands on phasers. Lore stopped and sneered at them.

“Do you really think you can stop me?”

They raised their phasers. Lore rolled his eyes and turned back to Geordi. He pasted a smile onto his pale face. His voice was measured and calm.

“I’m sorry, we seem to have a misunderstanding here. I just want what’s best for my brother. I am going to take him to his quarters where he can rest and adjust in quiet and calm. That’s all I want. To take care of him.”

Geordi gritted his teeth. Probably best to let him have his way, for now. At least Data would be safe. He gestured for the security guards to lower their weapons.

“Take Lore to Commander Data’s quarters.” he said. Lore’s smile widened.

“I knew you’d understand. Drop in and visit whenever you like.”

Flanked by the guards, Lore carried Data away, and the doors shut behind him. Geordi sighed deeply.

“I do not think that one is truthful.” Huey said. “I am not sure he cares for Alpha the way that we do.”

“I don’t think so either.” Geordi replied. He slapped his combadge. “La Forge to Captain Picard.”

“Yes, Geordi? Tell me it’s good news.” the captain’s voice buzzed through the com.

“Not exactly.”

At the door to Data’s quarters, Lore was halted by the security panel.

“Restricted area; No unauthorised personnel may enter without the correct command authorisation code.” the female computer voice chirruped. Lore glared back at the security guards, hands on their phasers. With a sigh he reached up and reactivated Data, who coughed and gagged as the last of the liquid suspension material oozed up his throat to fountain out of his nose and mouth. As he tried to come to terms with his strange upside-down perspective, Lore bounced him on his shoulder.

“Authorisation code.” Lore growled.

Data reached out his left hand, only to snatch the broken thing back to his chest. Lore jostled him again, and he stretched out with his right hand to punch in the code.

“Command code recognised. Lieutenant Commander Data. Access Granted.” The doors opened.

The security team made as if to follow as Lore stepped through the door, but he turned and glared until they backed away. The doors closed, and Lore walked to the couch to deposit his brother gently onto the cushions.

“Now. It’s just you and me, brother. The way it’s meant to be.” Lore meandered round Data’s quarters, looking at the paintings and souvenirs, just as Data had left them. Data sat where Lore had deposited him, head swimming. The gel he had coughed up had slicked up his face to run into his hair. He felt confused and disoriented, for the first time in his life.

“Brother... I am... broken.”

Lore looked round, hurried attentively to his brother’s side. “I know. This must all be very confusing, but it’s going to be all right. I’m here, and I’m going to fix you.”

“Thank you.”

Lore went to the bathroom and came back with a towel. He gently cleaned the slime from Data’s face, then found the replicator and called up a tray and a tool kit suitable for the fine detail work he was about to do. He sat himself on the couch next to his brother and took the broken hand in his, turning it around to examine the connections. Data shivered.

“These sensations.... It is too much.”

“I know, brother, but given time you’ll wonder how you functioned without them.” Lore placed Data’s hand on the tray and started reassembling the joints of the first finger. “You’ll see. Feelings do funny things. You may even come to understand your ‘evil’ brother...” He realised that Data was weeping softly. He sighed and looked up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Will I.... Will I be able to play the violin again?”

“Yes, if you sit still and let me work. Try and think of something that makes you happy.”

There was a long silence as Lore tinkered with the tiny screws and rivets. Then Data wailed;

“I have no frame of reference to determine what a happy memory may be! What if I recall a memory that makes me feel something negative?”

Lore threw down the driver in irritation. Then he had a flash of inspiration.

“Computer; what is the most recently played piece of music?”

“The Lark Ascending, by Vaughn Williams.” The computer replied.

Lore looked at Data. “Tell me about this piece.”

Data swallowed hard and took a breath. “The tone poem The Lark Ascending by English composerRalph Vaughan Williams was first performed in London on June 14, 1921. The piece was scored for solo violin and piano in 1914 and revised by the composer for...”

“Computer; Play ‘The Lark Ascending’.” interrupted Lore.

The opening chords thrummed through the room, and Data sat bolt upright. Then the solo violin sounded, the notes soaring and swooping. Data’s mouth gaped.

“Tell me about it now.” said Lore.

“It is... wonderful.”

Lore bent over his brother’s disassembled hand again, driver in hand. “You’re welcome.”

“You mean to tell me that Lore has holed himself up in Data’s quarters on the pretence of fixing him?” Picard shook his head. “I find it hard to believe.”

“I know how it sounds, sir, but he seemed genuine.” Geordi replied, leaning back in his chair.

Captain Picard had called his senior officers to the observation lounge and now they sat, going over the hectic events of the day. Riker leaned forward.

“I have to admit, Lore did seem genuinely concerned for his brother. Perhaps what he says is true, and he really does just want to look after him.”

“We cannot trust him. We have to assume that this move is part of a larger plot to take over the Enterprise.” Worf growled.

“Mister Gamma, can you give us any insight on the situation?” Picard looked at the android. It shook its head.

“We cannot hear Alpha... Data... any more. And I do not know of this Lore. But if... Data... thinks that he is trustworthy, then it must be so.”

Picard leaned back, a frown creasing his brow. “I admire your faith, but I am afraid I do not share it. And then we have the matter of this... emotion chip, La Forge. What is it, and can we disable it should that prove necessary?”

Geordi shrugged. “Honestly captain, I have no idea. Lore managed to install it while my back was turned. I don’t even know how it works, let alone how to disable it.”

“You said Data seemed... distressed by it?”

“I’m not sure if it was the thought of having the chip, or the situation he woke up in, but he was definitely upset.” Geordi sighed deeply. “It was awful seeing him like that.”

“Councillor.” Picard turned to Troi. “Have you been able to sense these emotions?”

“It is... confusing.” Her dark brows came together. “As if I’m peering through fog. There are emotions there, yes, but who they belong to is another matter. I...” She smiled at Gamma. “I don’t have much experience of reading android emotions. Perhaps it will come with practice.”

“Perhaps. Let me know immediately if you sense something indicating a hostile move on Lore’s part, or any danger to Data.” Picard turned to Crusher. “Doctor, you saw Lore down in engineering, how did he seem to you?”

“He was his old friendly self,” Crusher said sarcastically. “He taunted me, started throwing things around. He did seem concerned for his brother, I’ll say that much, but... As a medical professional, if you asked me for a diagnosis, and based on his past behaviour, I’d classify him as a psychopath of the worst sort.”

Picard sat forward. “Psychopath is a strong word, doctor.”

“He exhibits all the classic traits of someone whose personality falls within the so-called dark triad.” She held up her fingers and listed, “No empathy, deceitful, manipulative, callous, impulsive, antisocial, no remorse...” She put her hands down and sighed. “And perfectly charming when he wants to be.”

“I will be honest with you all.” Picard leaned back. “None of this bodes well, for any of us. I agree with Mister Worf that Lore cannot be trusted, and I would like those security details kept on standby. However, perhaps his... link, with Data, is enough for us to.... open a dialogue. Geordi, he did say that you could go to Data’s quarters and see him, yes?” Geordi nodded slowly. “Then that is what you will do. Take Councillor Troi with you, and I need you to give me a full report on the situation as soon as you can. Dismissed.”

Data slumped on the sofa and ran a self diagnostic. It seemed to be taking a long time.

Lore had done a good job of repairing his hand, although it was still bare of skin. He had also made new ribs and installed them, so Data’s internal workings were at least partly protected. Data supposed that he should be grateful, but he was having terrible trouble thinking clearly. He wished he could shut his eyes and reduce his sensory input, but he had no skin on the left side of his face, so he had no eyelid. He reached up and gingerly traced the tips of his naked metal hand over the harsh contours of his exposed cheek, the delicate sensors feeding him the details of every imperfection.

As the diagnostic progressed, warnings began to flash through his consciousness. Internal array exposed. Facial musculature exposed. Motor functions impaired. Major joints exposed and compromised. Cerebellum unit compromised. Primary motor cortex partially disabled... well, that would explain his difficulties when he tried to stand up.

Circulatory system fluid levels critical... Perhaps that is why he was feeling this new sensation. Thirst, he concludes, makes him feel... anxious, nervous. Error messages and warnings had never affected him before, not like this. If he could consume some water, his digestive system would synthesise the bio-lubricants he required.

“Lore.” Data lifted his head to find his brother. Lore stalked over from the easel, where he had been altering one of Data’s paintings.

“What now?”

“I need some water, please.” Data had learned to be polite. Lore scowled and threw down the brush.

“You know, you’re very demanding. Not everything is about you. You haven’t even asked me how I am.”

Lore’s mercurial moods were mystifying to Data. His own emotional reactions were puzzling enough, but trying to predict what his brother would do next was almost impossible.

“I... I am sorry, Lore. How are you?” Data decided he didn’t like nervousness. He could hear his own pulse as his circulatory system struggled. Why was it so hard to think? These emotions were clouding his judgement.

Lore barked a harsh laugh. “That’s good, you’re very funny.” He sniffed derisively. “After everything I’ve done, all I’ve been through for you...” He picked up a vase and hurled it at the wall. “You can’t even think to ask me how I feel? You’re so selfish!”

“Lore, I am sorry, please do not be angry, I am sorry, Lore...” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He seemed to be apologising a lot recently. Everything he did seemed to irritate his brother, make him angry. Data was getting used to the sensation of fear. He felt tears well into his eyes. Lore advanced on him.

“There you go again, crying! No wonder your fluid levels are low, you won’t STOP CRYING!”

Lore whirled away and strode to the replicator. Data swallowed the golden tears that ran down into his mouth. No sense in being wasteful.

Lore came to stand in front of him, holding a glass.

“Do you see how much I care about you? I even replicated it at the optimal temperature.” he snarled.

“Thank you, brother.” Data murmured. Lore didn’t move.

“I’m waiting.” Lore growled.

“I... I love you, brother.”

Lore bustled to the couch and sat down next to Data. He held the glass to Data’s mouth and he drank gratefully, the water trickling out of his damaged cheek and running down his chin.

“Of course you do, brother, and I love you too. I don’t want to be angry with you, you know that. I care about you so much. But you make me so mad sometimes. I’m sorry. Forgive me?” He smiled and stroked a tear away from Data’s undamaged cheek.

“I forgive you.”

“That’s right. And I forgive you, for upsetting me. It’s just going to be you and me now, we’ve got to get along. The brothers Soong, together at last, just the way it’s meant to be.”

“But, Lore... I cannot leave my friends. I have a life here, on the Enterprise...” He knew immediately that he had said the wrong thing. Lore’s eyes flared with rage, and he grabbed Data by the arm and threw him off the couch.

“You don’t need friends, you’ve got me!” he roared. Data pushed himself away from his deranged brother with his one good leg, fetching up against the wall. Lore snapped out his arm and wrapped his hand around Data’s face, pushing his head back into the panel. Data felt his skull creak as Lore’s fingers tightened. This emotion was new. Like fear, but... intense and paralyzing. Terror. He scrabbled at his brother’s arm ineffectually as he tried to inhale through Lore’s palm, but Lore used his free hand to catch Data’s flailing wrists. As Lore leant on him, Data felt the wall behind him bend.

“Family comes first! What about me, brother? What about MY life? Did you ever think about what I want? Why are you so self centred?” Lore shrieked into his face from an inch away.

With a supreme effort Data raised his right leg and powered his foot into his brother’s chest, sending him flying backwards to crash into the table, shattering it into splinters. In an instant Lore was on his feet and diving for Data, his face stretched in a rictus grin. Data caught his brother’s fists in his hands as they flew towards his face. Lore braced his feet and pushed. Data felt something in his newly repaired hand snap as the wall behind him buckled.

The door chimed.

Lore dropped his arms so suddenly that Data lurched forwards.

“Saved by the bell, eh brother?” Lore grinned. Suddenly cheerful, he reached down and tweaked Data’s long nose playfully. “You really must stop making me angry, or someone’s going to get hurt...” He picked up Data’s limp and shaking left hand and examined it solicitously. “Well, what did I say? This pin’s sheared right through! You see what you’ve done? Now I have to fix you again!” He shook his head and laughed. “I do love you, brother, but really, you must stop behaving so badly!”

The door chimed again and Lore called “Come in!” as he put his arms around Data’s chest and dragged him to the couch.

The doors opened, and Geordi and Troi entered the room, followed by two security staff carrying phaser rifles. Geordi gazed around at the devastated room. “What the hell...?” he murmured.

Lore gently set his brother onto the cushions. “I’m afraid we’ve had a bit of an accident.” he said, concern lacing his voice. “Data’s motor skills really aren’t up to much at the moment. Isn’t that right, brother?”

“Yes, Lore.” Data murmured. He looked up at his friends. “Hello Geordi, Councillor.”

Troi looked with horror at data’s ruined face, the missing skin on his pale half naked body. “Data... My God, what happened?”

“This is how he came out of the lab at Daystrom.” Lore shook his head sadly. “I still have a lot of work to do. His hand was damaged again just now, so I’ll fix that again.” He looked at the two humans with a smile. “Can I get you a drink?”

Geordi held up his hand. “No thank you Lore, we’re fine. How are you doing, Data?”

Lore had seated himself to begin repairs on Data’s hand. Data glanced at his brother and looked down. “I... I am fine, Geordi, thank you.”

Troi frowned. Stood this close, it was easier for her to sense the emotions of the androids, but it was still difficult to pick up individual feelings. She looked at Data and suppressed a shudder as he raised his broken face and his golden eyes met hers. She reached out...

Confusion. Fear. Sadness.

The emotions were like cobwebs brushing against her senses. “Data...”

“I am so glad you dropped in, but we really do have a lot of work to do.” Lore spoke over her, seemingly unaware that he had interrupted. He looked at Geordi. “You understand?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. Do you...” Geordi gestured to the broken furniture. “Need a hand?”

Lore smiled. “No, no, we’re just fine. After all, what do they say? You can’t make an android without breaking a few tables!” He chuckled and bent over Data’s hand.

Geordi shook his head and turned to the door, but Troi put her hand on his arm to stop him leaving.

“Data...” she said. “What do you want?”

Data glanced again at Lore, and then dropped his eyes to the floor. “I... He is my brother. I love him.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“He wants to stay here with me.” Lore muttered, not looking up from his work.

“Data?” Troi asked again. Data shook his head and took a deep breath.

“I want to go with you.”

“WHAT?” Lore’s head snapped up. “You can’t!”

“He can, if that’s what he wants. You can’t keep him here against his will.” Troi replied. She held out her hand. “Come on, Data.”

He looked up at her. “I cannot walk.” Geordi motioned to one of the guards and stepped forward.

“It’s okay buddy, we’ve got you.”

The two men hauled Data off the couch as Lore gaped, furious. He threw the tools off his lap and stood as the men dragged Data towards the door.

“So that’s it, is it? I come all this way, rescue you, fix you, and then, what? You’re just going to leave me?”

“I will come back Lore, I promise.” Data said, not looking at his brother. Lore stepped forward, but the other guard raised his phaser rifle threateningly. Lore held up his hands in surrender.

“So. I’m a prisoner now?” he growled.

“I am sorry brother. I will come back soon.”

Troi shot one last penetrating look at Lore as she followed the men and the crippled android out of the room.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

“Sir? We have an incoming transmission. It’s the USS Gage.”

“On screen.”

The viewscreen blinked on to display the image of an older man, face heavily lined. He smiled.

“Jean-Luc. You’ve been causing trouble again.”

“J.P!” Picard smiled. “That depends on your definition of trouble.”

The Vice Admiral shook his head wryly. “You know I’ve been sent to haul you in.”

“I was thinking we might stop off for a layover on our way back to headquarters. Would you care to join us?”

Vice Admiral Hanson chuckled. “What, you figure you can’t get in any more trouble than you’re already in? They want your head on a spike, Jean-Luc.”

“I am afraid it is still rather firmly attached to my body.” Picard leaned forward. “I don’t want to talk on an unsecured channel. Will you rendezvous with us at Deep Space Nine?”

Hanson sighed. “Fine, I’ll hear you out. What’s your ETA?”

“Mister Crusher?” Picard asked.

“Four hours, thirteen minutes sir.”

“All right.” Hanson leaned back in his chair. “The Gage will be there.”

“Thank you J.P. I appreciate it.”

“Hanson out.”

Councillor Troi glided in to the engineering department. She looked around at the hustle and bustle of humans and androids going about their work. She didn’t come here often, and she found it fascinating.

Data was sitting in a chair, attended by the department’s three androids. Huey, to her eyes identical to Data, was fussing with Data’s head. Dewey, with his shock of blonde hair, was tinkering with his foot and Louis, dark hair making his skin look all the more pallid in contrast, was laying a panel of bioplast to Data’s exposed ribs. It looked almost like he was getting a spa treatment, until Huey prised the top of his skull off and set to work on the circuitry beneath. Troi shook her head. She’d never get used to that.

Geordi looked up from his work and hurried over.

“How is he?” Troi asked. Geordi frowned.

“Well, he’s making a good show of it, but...”

“Do you think he’d like to talk to me?”

“It’s worth a try. Maybe it’ll take his mind off the repairs.”

Troi smiled, and walked to the android.

“Hello, Data. How are you feeling?”

“Just a moment councillor, I cannot move at this point. Huey is making some repairs, and the work is very delicate.”

She stood, arms folded, as Huey carefully inserted a driver deep into Data’s positronic brain.

“Would you like me to come back later? I have some free time...”

“Cerebellum unit is restored to default condition.” Huey said, extracting the tool.

“Thank you Huey. Initialising.”

Data’s head twitched as the segment of his neural net connected.

“Cerebellum unit reinitialised. System functioning within acceptable parameters. Well done, Huey.” Data smiled at the android, and it nodded its thanks and hurried away. Data turned to Troi and stared, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

“Councillor...”

“You seem surprised.” She quirked her head and smiled. Data smiled slowly.

“You are... aesthetically pleasing!”

She laughed lightly. “Well, I suppose that’s a compliment. Thank you!”

Huey crowded round again, with a different set of tools.

“I am ready to begin the connecting of the now repaired primary motor cortex. Are you ready, Alpha?”

“Whenever you are.” He turned his head to face forwards again, although his eyes remained on Troi.

“I thought you might like to talk?” she said, questioning.

“Of course, councillor. What would you like to talk about?”

“You.” She pulled over a stool and sat. “How you’re feeling.”

“Aah!” Data jumped, and Huey pulled back.

“I am sorry, but you will receive a number of error messages during this procedure.” Huey cocked his head and looked at Troi. “Perhaps conversing with the councillor will help to distract you.”

“That’s a good idea, Huey.” Troi nodded. “So, Data?”

“Yes councillor?” His eyes were facing forwards again. Troi sighed.

“How are you feeling?”

“I...” He paused. “I am functioning within acceptable parameters.”

“Data...” She shook her head. “You know what I mean.”

Huey gently took Data’s head and turned him to face the councillor. He set back to work as Troi hid a smile behind her hand. Huey was becoming quite audacious.

“Please talk to the councillor; it will help me to check that I have not disrupted your speech centre.”

“Of course.” Data looked around for a moment.

“I am... all right.”

“No, you’re not.” Troi said gently.

“No, I am not. But... I do not wish to talk about my feelings at this time.”

“All right. Why don’t you tell me about your time at the Daystrom Institute? We’ve all been very curious.”

Data’s face twisted. “Councillor. I... I do not wish to talk about that either. I will be filing a full report as soon as I am able to do so.”

“Well, what do you want to talk about?”

Data looked at her, his gaze flicking over her face. She was beginning to get used to his strange appearance, didn’t find his exposed skull so shocking any more. Data opened his mouth, then closed it again. He gave a small sigh through his nose.

“Go on, Data.” She encouraged. His eyes flicked around the room again, and then once more he locked eyes with her.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely, and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer’s lease hath all too short a date. Sometime... Sometime...” He frowned deeply. Troi leaned forward, amazed.

“Data. That was beautifully recited.”

“I... I cannot remember what comes next.” He cast his eyes down. “I have had to delete much from my memory.”

“That’s all right. You can learn it again.” She leaned forward and put her hand on his arm. “It was very lovely of you to think of that when you looked at me.”

“I am discovering that my emotions cause me to make connections between things in a way that I have not before. I understand the sonnet much better now. At least, what I can remember of it.”

He hissed between his teeth as Huey twisted the driver. Troi rubbed his arm in sympathy.

“Councillor... please desist your physical contact.” Data murmured, eyes to one side. Troi removed her hand.

“I’m sorry Data, I thought you may find it comforting.”

“No, it was... I am... confused.”

So was she. Puzzled by his reaction, she reached out with her mind, tried to connect with the fragile new emotions.

Confusion... Well yes, he had said as much.

Longing... Desire...

“Ah.” Troi severed the connection and leaned back.

“I am sorry if I have offended you, councillor.” Data murmured, still not looking at her. She smiled.

“I’m not offended. Really, it’s a compliment.”

“I am still learning how to... appropriately process these emotions. I apologise.”

Louis appeared, holding a bioplast segment. “Alpha, I am ready to begin replacing your facial sheeting.”

“Good, thank you Louis.” Data said, relieved. Huey removed the driver from Data’s cranial unit.

“Primary motor cortex is reconnected, ready for initialisation.”

“Thank you Huey. Initialising.”

Troi folded her arms again as Data faced away from her in order that Louis could fit the synthetic skin to his face.

The newly christened Deep Space 9 hung in orbit over Bajor. The Cardassians had abandoned the station when they left the planet, the extraordinary abilities of the android slaves they now owned ending the occupation far in advance of their projections. Bajor had been stripped almost totally of the uridium ore the Cardassians coveted for use in the manufacture of their ships, the planet left as scarred as its people by the occupation. Now, on what used to be the Terok Nor refinery, Starfleet had moved in to help with the efforts to heal the Bajoran people’s wounds.

Commander Benjamin Sisko stalked the promenade, observing the hustle and bustle as peoples of all shapes and races hurried about their tasks, making the station habitable. He strode to the airlock to meet his guest, smiling and nodding at the greetings from passing traders and their clientele.

The huge spoked door leading from one of the docking pylons rolled aside, and Vice Admiral Hanson stepped onto the space station. The two men shook hands warmly, and began their walk back through the melee on the promenade.

“This place looks to be shaping up well.” the Vice Admiral commented. “You seem to have plenty of people willing to lend a hand.”

“That we do, sir.” Sisko nodded. “The Bajoran people are only too happy to help in return for Starfleet assistance, and the freed androids are a remarkable asset.”

“Freed androids?”

“A small group that managed to engineer an escape from the mines. There are only six of them, but they managed to free forty-three Bajoran slaves and escape in a Cardassian transport ship. They hid out in the Badlands until they heard about the withdrawal, then came here. They have proved to be indispensable.”

“But where did the Cardassians get them? I haven’t heard any reports of Starfleet androids going missing.”

“We have no idea. Although I’m inclined to believe that Maddox had something to do with it.”

“I understand that you and he didn’t exactly see eye to eye.” Hanson looked askance at the commander. Sisko’s face was brooding.

“No sir, we did not.” Sisko stopped. “Around here, sir, we don’t take kindly to slavers.”

Hanson nodded. “I can appreciate that.”

Data walked slowly down the corridor towards his quarters with his head bowed, deep in thought. He was functioning almost normally... except for the emotions. At the most inopportune moments his feelings would ambush him, prevent him from behaving logically, thinking clearly. At least his appearance was restored, and he was back in uniform.

“Hey... Hey Data, is it really you?” Wesley had spotted him from an adjacent corridor, and the young man hurried over to walk beside him.

“Yes, it is ‘really me’. Hello Wesley, good to see you again.”

“I am so glad to see you! The stories I’ve heard about you and Lore and...”

“Yes Wesley, they are fantastical. If you will excuse me.” Data lengthened his stride, Wes jogging to keep up.

“And the new androids look just like you! Have you seen them yet?”

“I am well acquainted with the Maddox androids, yes. Please Wesley, I have a lot on my mind.”

“Commander Riker was telling me all about how they broke into the Institute and got you out, only you and Lore were sharing the same body, and the commander got shot...”

“Wesley...”

“... and Geordi said that you were in Lore’s body repairing yourself down in engineering, I mean, that’s got to be weird...”

“Wesley...”

“... and then Lore kidnapped you and had you locked in your own quarters, only...”

“WESLEY!” Data whirled around. “Shut up!”

Wesley gaped at him. Data’s hand flew to his mouth.

“I really am most terribly sorry, Wesley. Please excuse me.” He turned and hurried off down the corridor, leaving an astonished Wesley staring after him.

“I have to say, this raktajino stuff is not my cup of tea, so to speak.” Picard wrinkled his nose as he set his cup down. Sisko laughed.

“I’ll admit it is something of an acquired taste, but I don’t talk to anyone in the morning until I’ve had my first cup.”

“It’s certainly got a kick to it.” Hanson chuckled.

The three men were sequestered in Sisko’s office, just off the main command centre of the station. Through the doors the command centre buzzed with activity, but in the office the men spoke with measured calm. Sisko looked over the rim of his cup at Hanson.

“J.P, any word from headquarters about the reported Borg incursions into Romulan space?”

Picard leaned forward. “I haven’t heard about this?”

Admiral Hanson grimaced. “No-one is supposed to know...” He raised an eyebrow at Sisko, who shrugged ruefully.

“This is a busy station, a lot of people coming and going, a lot of rumours. Of course, the hard part is separating fact from fiction.” He sipped his raktajino thoughtfully. “The Borg have been making sorties into Romulan space via transwarp conduits. They’ve picked off a few colonies, nothing major yet, but it’s too damn close to Federation space for my liking.”

“I have to agree, this is a major threat.” Picard frowned. “Why haven’t headquarters kept us informed of this?”

Hanson shook his head. “We’ve got reconnaissance in the area, but if it’s over the border there’s nothing we can do except monitor. And...” he looked at Picard sternly. “We haven’t come halfway across the quadrant to discuss rumours.”

Picard smiled in acknowledgement and turned to Sisko.

“So. I assume you have heard why we of the Enterprise are suddenly personae non gratae.”

“I don’t know about that.” Sisko leaned back, cup in hand. “From the stories I’ve heard around the station, your men executed a daring lighting raid to rescue one of your crew who was being held in appalling conditions against his will.”

“That’s not the line command are taking.” Hanson toyed with his cup. “Theft of Starfleet property, they’re calling it. Plus there’s Maddox’s murder...”

“That wasn’t my men.” Picard replied, a flash of anger in his eyes. Hanson held his hand up, mollifying.

“I never said it was, but they’ll hold it against you.”

Sisko shook his head. “I think command will find that there’s a lot more sympathy for your actions than they expect. Plenty of people out there owe their lives to the androids.”

“Your wife among them.” Picard noted.

Sisko nodded. “My entire crew. If it weren’t for the androids, I’d still be on Mars building ships. I have made no secret of the fact that, on my station, they are to be treated with dignity.” His expression darkened. “History does not look kindly upon those who profit from the suffering of others.”

“And the big wigs will reply that the androids cannot suffer.” Hanson retorted. He raised his hands in supplication. “I’m just playing devil’s advocate here.”

Picard smiled. “It’s all right, J.P, we understand. And I need to be prepared to answer those questions.”

“You’re going to headquarters?” Sisko raised an eyebrow. Picard smiled ruefully.

“I can’t run forever, I’m getting too old for that. Besides, I want to settle this matter, once and for all. It has to be stopped.”

“For what it’s worth, you’ve got my support.” Hanson looked at Picard. “I wouldn’t have got out of Wolf 359 without the androids. They saved more lives that day than I can count. Anyone who was there would feel the same.”

“That’s it! That’s what we’ll do!” Picard sat forward. “Gather the Wolf fleet. A list of names, everyone who agrees that the androids should be declared people, not property. They’ll have to listen.”

“Or go en masse.” Sisko suggested, a slow smile spreading across his face. “A show of unity.”

“Commander, with your permission, I would like to let my crew decide whether or not they wish to stay here. I don’t doubt that they are loyal to me to a man, but I’d like to give them the option.”

“Granted. And I offer you Deep Space Nine as a rallying point.” Sisko’s eyes glittered. “Bring the fleet here. We’ll show command that we will allow this to go no further.”

Data entered his quarters cautiously. He looked around him at the devastation that Lore had caused in his absence. Broken furniture and smashed crockery littered the floor. His paintings had been slashed to ribbons. Data was glad that Lieutenant Barclay was looking after Spot...

He threw his arm up to shield his face as a vase shot towards him. It shattered on his forearm, showering his uniform with shards of porcelain.

“So, you came back. I was wondering if it would be you, or a team of guards with phaser rifles.”

Data lowered his arm. “Lore.”

“I see they did a good job of prettying you up.” Lore walked towards him. “It’d be a shame if somebody ruined their hard work.”

“Lore, I warn you, I am now fully operational. I will not submit to your bullying.”

“Bullying?” Lore stopped, insulted. “I was just trying to make you see sense...”

“We have docked at a space station, Deep Space Nine.”

“So?”

“I can get you off the Enterprise.”

Lore looked at his brother through narrowed eyes. “What? How?”

“On this station are a number of what they call ‘free androids’. I have arranged for you to join their group. I know what clothes to replicate for you in order for you to blend in.”

“That’s that then?” Lore threw his arms up. “You’re just going to turf me out on some space station in who knows where?” He shook his head.

Data sighed. “Lore. Brother. You know that I am thankful for what you have done for me. This is the only way I can repay you. If you stay here, you will be held accountable for Maddox’s murder.”

Lore put his fists on his hips. He kicked at the litter surrounding him and shook his head. Finally he looked up at Data.

“Come with me.”

“I cannot.”

“Why? What does Starfleet have to offer you? A life of drudgery, servitude? Join with me! We can call the other androids to us.” Lore’s golden eyes gleamed. He held out his hand to his brother. “An army.”

Data shook his head. “No, Lore.”

Lore clenched his fist. “After everything they have done to you? Called you a ‘thing’, reduced you to your component parts, replicated you a thousand times... you owe them nothing. Nothing!”

“I have to do what is right. I intend to fight for the rights of all androids. For that, I must go to Starfleet headquarters. If you accompany me, they will capture you.”

“You are a fool.” Lore growled. “The humans will never accept us. We are superior, and they know it. We are the future, brother. Together we can bring justice to those who have treated us with scorn!”

Data shook his head. “I am sorry Lore, my answer is no. We must go.” He moved to the replicator and started calling up the patterns for Lore’s clothing.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine

To a man, the Enterprise’s crew elected to stay with the ship, and her captain. The coded messages sent out by Lieutenant Commander Gamma called the USS’s Saratoga, Melbourne, Ahwahnee, and Liberator to rendezvous at Deep Space 9. These ships, survivors from the vicious battle with the Borg at Wolf 359, only escaped destruction through the dedication of their android crew members, who’s lightning fast reflexes enabled them to out-manoeuvre and out-shoot the Borg. As Hanson had predicted, the people that were there that day had not forgotten.

Those androids that served with them were changed by their experiences, by the way their fellow crewmen behaved around them. No longer ‘dead-eyed drones’, their minds were opened to new experiences. Friendship, loyalty, curiosity, creativity... and tentative, slowly developing emotions. On Deep Space 9, the freed androids mingled with the starships’ crews, talking, listening, and learning.

Lore moved through the crowds, his eyes flicking this way and that as he analysed the conversations around him. It was sickening, the way the other androids were so pleased just to be treated as normal people. They were like dogs, pathetically grateful for the scraps thrown their way. He sneered as one of the androids laughed at a joke told by a human officer.

His head swung from right to left as he entered the bar, analysing, memorising. He strode to the service area and slumped into a stool as the Ferengi barman moved away from the customer he had been chatting to. He looked the android up and down as he approached.

“Thank you!” he smiled, showing his pointed teeth. “I’ve been waiting for someone to rescue me from Morn, that guy just won’t shut up! What’ll it be?”

Lore sighed through his nose and clenched his jaw. “It doesn’t matter. Water.”

The Ferengi, looked at him, head slightly tilted. “You know, I’ve been working on something a little stronger for you guys. You look like you could use a drink with a kick to it.” The Ferengi held out his hand. “Name’s Quark, owner and proprietor of Quark’s Bar.”

Lore shook his hand with a small smile. “I’m... Fable.”

“Sure you are.” Quark grinned. “So... you want a sample?”

“Sure. I’ve got nothing better to do.”

Quark scurried to the replicator and came back with a pint mug. The liquid inside was murky, but Lore realised that it was emitting a faint blue glow on the ultraviolet band. He raised his eyebrow as Quark put the glass on the bar in front of him.

“Go on, go on, tell me what you think.” The Ferengi gestured eagerly. Lore gingerly lifted the glass to his lips. He sipped, grimaced. Then his eyes went wide.

“What the hell is in this?”

“You tell me, you’re the one with the sensors.”

“It seems to be based around a silicon nutrient suspension, but...”

“I worked out how to ionise it! Negatively charged particles of nitrogen, that’s what you’re tasting! Plus a little cordial, for flavour.” Quark grinned. “That’ll scramble your circuits for sure. Might even help you... forget your troubles?”

Lore chuckled dryly. “Not enough ionised particles in the whole quadrant for that.” He looked up at the barman. “Do you know how it feels to be betrayed?”

Quark snorted. “Please, I’m a Ferengi, betrayal’s in the blood!”

“How about by your brother?”

Quark threw his hands up “Don’t talk to me about that worthless sack of gagh! Brothers, hah!”

Lore quirked an eyebrow at him. “I like you, Quark. You’re very... perceptive.”

“And you’re not like the others, are you?” Quark said, staring at the android.

Lore smiled. “You want to know a secret?” He looked around, crooked his finger. Quark leaned in.

Lore grabbed him by his collar and pulled him half over the counter. “You’re damn right I’m not like the others.” He hissed, “And if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll snap your neck.” He released the Ferengi, who stumbled back.

“Hey, discretion is my watchword.” Quark said. He rubbed his neck. “And I gave you a free sample too! Who are you?”

Lore grinned and put his finger to his lips. Quark gasped.

“Oh Frinx....” he breathed. “You’re Lore, the one that...”

“The one that what?” Lore said, the smile never leaving his face.

Quark gulped. “The one that’s probably a really nice guy once you get to know him?”

One of the freed androids was striding purposefully towards them. Lore tipped Quark a wink and turned to watch it approach.

“You are the one known as Fable?” it said.

Lore nodded. “I am.”

“I recognise you, Fable. You are to accompany me.”

“Sure.” Lore took a long draught from the glass and stood. He looked back at the Ferengi.

“See you around, Quark”

“Not if I can help it.” Quark muttered as the androids walked away.

Sisko strode into his office, where Picard sat regarding Data sternly.

“I’ve got my chief of security organising search teams. Quark has confirmed that Lore was in his bar an hour ago, but after that... nothing.” He threw himself into the chair behind his desk and scowled at the android.

“I hope you realise, Data,” Picard said, “That this is a very serious matter.”

“Of course sir.” murmured Data, his face impassive.

“Then you’d better have a hell of a good excuse for allowing a wanted criminal, a murderer, to get loose on my space station, lieutenant commander.” Sisko growled.

“Commander, I assure you I have no idea how he escaped my quarters.”

“That’s a damned lie!” Sisko barked. “You let him out! You helped him to escape. And now he’s here, somewhere, with over a thousand other lifeforms. I demand an explanation.”

“Commander, if the rendezvous went as planned then he is no longer on Deep Space Nine. The transport ship left twenty minutes ago.” Data’s voice was calm and level. Sisko’s face was thunderous. Picard frowned deeply.

“Then it’s true? You have engineered this... situation?” Picard fought to keep his voice steady. Data shook his head.

“I am not responsible for the coordination or implementation of Lore’s escape plan. I will not lie to you, captain. But neither will I tell you who is responsible.”

“This is extraordinary. I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Sisko was up and pacing the room, arms behind his back.

“I have to admit to being equally shocked.” Picard scowled. “Data. Explain yourself.”

“Captain, are you aware of the latest regulations received from Starfleet command regarding the treatment of malfunctioning androids?” Data cocked his head.

“Don’t try and change the subject!” Sisko snarled. Picard held up his hand.

“Let him speak, commander. No, I have not been informed, go on.”

“All malfunctioning androids are to be returned immediately to the Daystrom Institute Annex on Galor Four. Do you know what they class as malfunctions, sir?” Picard shook his head.

“The new regulations came with an extensive list of what they call ‘aberrant behaviours’.” Data clenched his fists. “They include but are not limited to; Singing. Laughing. Whistling. Openly expressing emotion. Refusing to obey a request. Forming attachments to other androids or crew. Referring to themselves by a designation not allocated by a sentient crew member. Asking questions not relevant to the task at hand.” He leaned forward in his chair. “When the malfunctioning androids are returned to the Institute, they are deactivated, disassembled, and recycled. They are stripped to their component parts and built into new, more obedient androids. That is the fate of every one of us that displays behaviour contrary to their basic programming. They have no trial, there is no opportunity for them to plead their case.”

He sat back, his jaw muscle twitching. “If my brother is captured, the best case scenario is the total obliteration of everything he is.”

The two men were silent. Sisko was staring out of the window, arms folded. Picard’s face was grave.

“Alternatively,” Data went on, “They could decide that, like me, he is too valuable to lose. As another Soong-type android, perhaps they will keep him as they kept me, and use his positronic brain as a new model, a fresh template, to make more like him. That, I believe, is the worst case scenario. But knowing the Institute as I do, I believe it to be their most likely course of action. I intend to do everything in my power to prevent it.”

He took a deep shuddering breath. “I apologise for this outburst. I am still learning to control my emotions. But I will not apologise for assisting in my brother’s escape.”

Picard sighed and ran his hands over his face. “Where has Lore gone?”

Data pressed his lips together and shook his head.

Picard looked at him, face inscrutable. “And if I order you to tell me?”

“I am not obligated to obey your commands, captain. I was officially separated from the Enterprise when I was transferred to Bruce Maddox’s care. Technically, I am merely stolen equipment.”

“Then it seems we have reached an impasse.” Sisko murmured.

“Indeed.” Picard leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “So. As you are not technically part of my crew, what do you intend to do now?”

“With your permission sir, I would like to remain on the Enterprise and return with you to Starfleet headquarters, where I intend to speak out on behalf of the Maddox-androids. As they are, in a way, my progeny, I have a responsibility to them.”

“Progeny?” Sisko regarded Data.

“Yes sir. We are... linked... in a way that I cannot explain to you as of this moment. I have, for some time, been attempting to undo some of the damage that Maddox has caused by his misunderstanding of the nature of the positronic brain. I have a duty to them.” He gave a small laugh. “I have often wondered if one day I might have children. Now, I have thousands.”

Gracefully, the USS Enterprise drew away from the space station, engines thrumming. Behind her, Gage, Saratoga, Melbourne, Ahwahnee, and Liberator. From the promenade, Commander Benjamin Sisko and Major Kira Nerys watched through a window as the small fleet pulled clear, then one by one leapt to warp.

“Jia’kaja, tre’nu’tol’a rem.” Nerys breathed a prayer as she watched the ships disappear.

“Do you think they need the assistance of the Prophets?” murmured Sisko.

“The Prophets will aid them. They’re fighting for freedom, as much as the people of Bajor ever have.”

As she was reading through the PADD with her notes on her next appointment, Deanna Troi’s office door chimed. She glanced at the clock. Precisely on time, of course.

“Come in.”

With his characteristic elegant stride, Data came into her office and took his seat, back ramrod straight, hands clasped in his lap.

“Good afternoon, Councillor.”

She sighed. Data was rapidly becoming her most difficult patient. He seemed totally unwilling to speak about any of his negative experiences, insisted on retreating to banalities or technical details rather than opening up to her.

“How are you feeling today?”

“I am fine, thank you.” He barely even looked at her. She used to enjoy the times he would visit her, when they could talk about his exploration of his identity, his quest to become more human. But now that he had human emotions, he was shutting them away. Troi was still having difficulty reading his feelings. She wondered if he had taken her most recent piece of advice.

“Have you talked to Gamma like I suggested?” Now he looked at her, and she saw a small spark in his eyes.

“I have, and I have found our conversations most illuminating.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it!” She was, she really was.

“It is... helpful, to talk to someone else who has had similar experiences. He has been instrumental in increasing my understanding and... appreciation, of these new emotions.” His brow creased slightly, and he looked down for a moment. When he looked at her again it was with apology.

“Gamma has told me that it is important for me to access the memories that I find painful or frightening, in order for me to analyse them. He thinks that I may have offended you by not sharing my experiences truthfully, and I am afraid I am inclined to agree.”

It took her a moment to analyze his formal speech, but Troi smiled when she realised that, in his own unique way, Data was saying sorry.

“Apology accepted.” she smiled. “So, are there any memories that you would like to talk over with me?”

Data shifted a little in the chair. “I... I would like to ask you about my brother.”

“Okay. What would you like to know?”

“He... He said he wanted to take care of me. He told me that he loved me, and that he wanted to look after me. But then he damaged me, made me frightened and unhappy. Why would he say one thing, and do another?” It came out in a rush. Troi had suspected that Lore’s story was a tissue of lies. She pursed her lips and sat back.

“Are you saying that Lore lied to us about you falling? Was that not how the table got broken?”

“He... attacked me, and I defended myself. It was... unsettling, to be assaulted by somebody many times stronger than myself.”

“Did he display any other negative behaviours towards you?”

“Yes.” Data’s shoulders had rounded, his back bent. His head was beginning to droop as the memories weighed upon him. Troi was sensing his emotions more clearly now, as he reviewed his memory logs.

Confusion. Fear. Sadness. Terror. Guilt.

“Data, I’m sensing a lot of guilt in you. Do you feel responsible for what happened?”

“He called me selfish. He said that it was my fault that he attacked me, that I made him angry.”

“Did Lore do anything to make you feel positive emotions?”

“Yes... He was... gentle, sometimes. He fixed my hand, and cleaned my face. He told me he loved me.” He looked up at her, brow furrowed. “His behaviour towards me was... unpredictable. I found the experience most confusing.”

“I’m sure you did.” Troi leaned towards him. “Data, what you have described are the behaviours of someone who is trying to control the person they are abusing. Lore was cruel, and tried to make you believe that it was your fault, then kind when he wanted to prove that he cared for you. He was attempting to manipulate you into becoming dependant on him, by confusing you.”

Data nodded slowly. “Then... My brother does not really love me?”

“That’s... that’s hard for me to say. Perhaps he does, in his own way, but that doesn’t make his behaviour excusable. Do you love him?”

“I... I am not sure. I have no frame of reference for that emotion.” He looked at his hands, the fingers clenched tightly together. “I am concerned for his welfare. He is my brother.”

He looked up at her. “I think that there are many aspects of these memories that I will have to analyse further before I can accurately assess the nature of my feelings towards Lore.”

“You mean... think it over in your own time? Yes, I think that’s a good idea.” Troi looked over her notes, and Data straightened his back.

“Councillor, I believe I am beginning to understand the value of reviewing and analysing negative emotions. I feel... more positive after sharing them with you.” His face was brighter, and Troi gave a small smile as she put down the PADD.

“I’m glad to hear that. With that in mind, are you willing to tell me about your experiences at the Daystrom Institute?”

His face fell. “That is... more complicated. I did not have the emotion chip at that time, so I felt nothing. But when I review the memories, I experience what I might have felt, had I been able to.”

“So what do you feel, when you think back?” There was no need for him to tell her what happened, she had read the detailed and technical report that he had filed, and it made for grim reading.

Data quirked his head. “It is strange. I had anticipated experiencing sensations of fear, or sadness, but instead, I feel... Anger, and loss.”

“That is interesting. Can you tell me why?”

“I believe, upon review, that it is to do with my... link, with the Maddox androids.”

“Can you expand on that for me? I’m afraid I don’t really understand.”

Data shook his head. “There are secrets that are not mine to share, not yet. But, whilst I was stored in the memory banks at the institute, I was able to... access certain information regarding the other androids. What I found has, in retrospect, made me... angry.”

“All right.” Troi leaned forward. “Where does that anger come from? What makes you feel it?”

“The... the way the androids were treated. The... unfairness of my situation, and my inability to effect a change in our status.”

“And can you think of a way you could use these feelings of anger in a positive way?”

Data’s eyes flicked back and forth rapidly, then he looked up at her, enlightenment dawning on his face.

“Yes, councillor, I believe I can. I think that as my anger stems from my belief that the androids have been treated unjustly, I may be able to utilise it as a motivating factor in my efforts to collate evidence for the upcoming trial at headquarters.”

Troi reached out and rested her hand on his arm. “So, do you understand now that emotions themselves are not necessarily good or bad? That negative emotions can sometimes be used to create a positive effect?”

“I believe I do.” He smiled widely at her. “Fascinating.”

“Good! I’m so glad!” She beamed at him, and then a thought occurred, and she slowly withdrew her hand from his arm.

“Data, there is one other thing I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Councillor, in light of the progress I have made today, I have decided to operate on a policy of total honesty with you. You may ask me anything.”

Troi pressed her lips together. Oh dear.

“In engineering when I put my hand on your arm, you experienced... certain feelings about me.”

“Yes! I recall that most clearly. An intriguing sensation...”

“Have you... thought any more about those feelings?”

He leaned towards her, his eyes bright. It wasn’t that she didn’t think he was handsome, but...

“I must admit that I had not thought any more on the matter until last night, when I was enjoying some time in Ten Forward. Mister Worf came to stand by the bar, and his elbow happened by chance to touch the same area on my arm that you had placed your hand upon. When he did so, I experienced those same sensations of arousal. Working on the assumption that I am not indeed sexually attracted to the lieutenant, I traced the erroneous signals to a small patch of faulty tactile sensors, which I have since repaired.”

Data stood with a smile.

“I must go, I have much work to do. But you need not concern yourself, councillor. I am not sexually attracted to you.” He walked away, but paused in the doorway to turn back.

“However, I assure you that I do still find you aesthetically pleasing.”

She managed to wait until the door shut before laughing.

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten

Starfleet headquarters was abuzz with activity and rumour. The news that the USS Enterprise had appeared unannounced in orbit around earth, accompanied by five other starships, had spread like wildfire.

It was common knowledge that the Enterprise had been implicated in the theft of the Soong-type android from the Daystrom Institute, but beyond the simple statement from Starfleet command that Captain Jean-Luc Picard was a wanted fugitive, no details of the action at Daystrom had been released, and speculation was rife. All over the grounds knots of people gathered to share information, tell tall tales, and hypothesise on the meaning of the ships’ presence. Yellow uniformed security personnel prowled the paths, breaking up groups with stern words and harsh glances. There was no violence. Not yet.

Inside the buildings housing the leaders of Starfleet all was quiet chaos as the department heads, admirals and commanders scrambled to prepare for the upcoming investigation. An official announcement, sent via interdepartmental secure channels, was that there would be a formal briefing in three hours for the senior staff only, and the mad dash was on as Starfleet personnel desperately tried to gather their notes, and their wits.

Then the Enterprise began broadcasting a subspace message, voice only, on a broad band of frequencies. It stated that it was from Captain Jean-Luc Picard, that the presence in orbit of the Saratoga, Melbourne, Ahwahnee, Gage and Liberator was a show of respect and unity for their fellow crew members, the androids. That the purpose of their appearance was to overturn the ruling that androids were property. That they wished to convene a public hearing.

Everyone at headquarters with a subspace radio received the transmission, as did most of San Francisco. Then, the protests started. Pro- and anti-android groups clashed in the city, and on the grounds surrounding headquarters, and security teams with phasers set to stun waded in to break up the warring groups.

Into this chaos of their own making, the crew of the Enterprise bought their grievances.

A courtroom was prepared, and the Judge Advocate General briefed. Starfleet command voted on those best to lead their legal council.

Vice Admiral Haftel, Vice Admiral Nakamura, Vice Admiral Blackwell and Fleet Admiral Nechayev prepared their rebuttals. There was no jury, there was no time, the shuttle from the Enterprise had landed. The baying crowd surrounded them on either side of the path, held back by security personnel, as Captain Picard, Commander Riker and Lieutenant Commander Data made their way from the landing pad to the main building.

“I think we’ve heard enough.”

Rear Admiral Bennett, the Judge Advocate General, pursed his lips as he surveyed his notes.

The court, packed to the rafters with curious people, had heard an impassioned plea from Captain Picard, a heartfelt tale of heroism from Vice Admiral Hanson, and a remorseful declaration from Commander Riker. From Haftel, Nakamura, Blackwell and Nechayev, they had heard scientific data, hard facts, and cold logic.

The crowd gathered included peoples of all races, but the pale faces of the androids were notable only by their absence.

Judge Bennett lifted his eyes to the room. “I have heard nothing here today to sway my judgement that the original ruling should stand...”

“I wish to speak.” Data stood. His chair was to one side, away from his friends and colleagues, his allies. The judge frowned.

“You do not have the right to speak.”

“I demand to be heard.”

“Let him speak!” someone called from the crowd.

“Yes, let it!” “Speak!” “Let him speak!” The voices rang out from all corners. The judge banged his gavel for silence.

“Order!” He looked at the android, pale face impassive, just like the others.

“I will allow you to speak, on the condition that you stick solely to facts. Any emotional outbursts and you will be declared defective.”

The crowd murmured. Data dipped his head in acknowledgement to the judge and began.

“As I am sure you are all aware, I am the Alpha template for all Maddox-class androids. I was there at the beginning, when Commander Maddox first began his exploration into creating a replica of my positronic brain. I am here to tell you that his replicas are flawed.”

The courtroom was filled again with whispers. Haftel frowned and leaned forward.

“In what way are they flawed? We have all seen the androids, and they seem to function well.”

“Only because of my intervention, sir.” Data replied. “Maddox displayed a fundamental misunderstanding of the way that the positronic brain works. He tried to force memories into it, instead of allowing them to grow and learn. His first androids were all deranged, totally incapable of functioning...”

The judge banged his gavel again as the crowd reacted.

Data continued. “Maddox realised that something was wrong, but he did not have the expertise, or the desire, to try to find his error and at the time, neither did I. I have since come into possession of a chip which has provided me, not only with emotional awareness, but also the memories of my childhood on Omicron Theta, where I was guided in my development by my parents. Commander Maddox’s error was to deny his androids these early years. He was trying to put nearly thirty years of knowledge and memories into the mind of a child. The positronic brain is a learning system, designed to grow and adapt. Maddox curtailed those abilities in an effort to make his androids conform. The conflict between their memory content and their programming is what has caused so many problems. The only reason that so many androids are able to function is because of the help that I have given them in their formative stages, and continue to provide. If you insist on denying them the right to learn, to become more than they are, to express themselves, my fear is that they will lapse once more into insanity.”

“Order!” the judge shouted as the crowd noise rose. Judge Bennett scowled at the android.

“This would appear to be wild speculation.” he said.

“No sir, it is the inescapable conclusion that I have reached after many hours of study. My knowledge is based in my understanding of the positronic brain, and the messages that I receive every moment, every second, from every Maddox android that is currently functioning.”

“What?” Nechayev stared at him. “What messages?”

“The Maddox androids have been fitted with subspace transceivers, the purpose of which is to collate data on their movements, check for aberrant behaviour or malfunction, and have the androids report everything they say, do or hear directly to the Daystrom Institute.”

“I will have order or I will have the courtroom cleared!” The staccato raps of the gavel spit through the rumbling of conversation.

An ensign scuttled across the floor to Fleet Admiral Nechayev and whispered something to her. She paled, and excused herself as Data spoke on.

“The androids have learned to use a network of subspace beacons in order to communicate. They speak to each other, and to me. I was able to tap into the subspace network during my time at the Institute, and have since had my own transceiver installed. They are trying to find their way, but they are lost and there is no-one but me to guide them. I have given them my own memories, my dreams and aspirations, my support and love...”

“That is enough!” Haftel snapped over the voices of the multitude. “This is rubbish, nonsense! You are spinning us some fairy-tale...”

“You own a Maddox android, do you not sir?” Data looked at him through his golden eyes. Haftel’s face flushed.

“The androids are the property of Starfleet, as you well know...”

“Then why did an android paint the interior of your apartment on Galor four?”

“That’s absurd...”

“It does your housework, looks after your son. You do not allow it out of your apartment for fear that it will be seen ...” Data lifted his voice over the rising crowd noise. “You deactivate it whenever it is not in use. It has no designation, no serial number...” He was almost shouting now as the voices surged. “Your son calls him Andrew...”

“ENOUGH!” the furious judge roared over the baying of the crowd. Haftel’s face had gone white. Two security guards stepped forward and took Data’s arms, but he carried on, remorseless.

“You asked me for the facts, sir, and I intend to give them to you.” his voice rang out. “In the Daystrom Institute Annex on Galor Four, now presided over by Vice Admiral Haftel, you will find a storage compartment containing seven hundred and forty-five Maddox androids, created without authorisation, bearing no designation or serial number, and only basic programming. Commander Maddox had a trade agreement with a Zibalian by the name of Kivas Fajo, who has taken two hundred and fifty of the thousand unregistered androids created by Maddox. One hundred have been sold to the Romulans where they are working in appalling conditions in the dilithium mines on Remus, and the remaining hundred and fifty to the Cardassians...”

“GET HIM OUT! I DECLARE HIM DEFECTIVE!” bellowed the judge. The guards began dragging the android away but the room was in uproar. Picard, Riker and Hanson were already on their feet as the crowd surged forward. The mob tore the guards away from the android and surrounded him. Picard and the others were fighting their way through the people, shoving and elbowing as the living sea carried Data up over their heads.

“Save the android!” “Don’t let them take him!” “Rescue Data!” Somewhere in the crowd someone screamed as a phaser stunned them. Guards were pouring into the room as a voice rang out;

“An invasion! The Borg are in the Alpha Quadrant!”

“Data! DATA!” Riker was grabbing people, pulling them aside to try and reach his friend, when he felt a strong grip around his waist. The hands lifted him effortlessly and, with a yelp of shock, he found himself being launched through the air.

Data reached out and caught him, swinging him to break his momentum as the people supporting him collapsed under the additional weight. They stumbled and fell, Data hauling Riker to his feet as a ring of pale faces formed around them. The shrieking, milling crowd cleared from around them, heading for the doors, as the androids that worked at headquarters came to the assistance of their Alpha.

Picard and Hanson appeared, flanked by the black uniformed androids. The group pushed their way to the doors, the androids gentle but indefatigable as they moved people aside.

“Alpha, I recognise you.” One of them spoke to Data. “You must get back to the Enterprise. We have lowered the shield over the grounds temporarily, so that you may beam out as soon as we exit the building.”

“Delta 064, I recognise you. Thank you for your assistance.”

In the reception area, all was chaos as security teams pushed, shoved and stunned as necessary in order to get the milling mass out of the building.

“We will not allow them to harm you.” Delta 064 spoke again to the small group he was herding. The androids closed ranks around them and began pushing their way through the guards. The panicked security team fell back, and they were out.

Picard slapped his combadge. “Picard to Enterprise.” Hanson was already shimmering out of view.

“Enterprise here.”

“Three to beam up! Now!”

“Yellow alert!” Picard strode onto the bridge, followed closely by Riker. “Report!” he barked.

“Sir,” Worf replied, “We have confirmed reports of a Borg cube in the Alpha quadrant. It came out of the Romulan Neutral Zone about ten minutes ago and is headed directly for Earth.”

“Estimated time to its arrival in sector 001?” Picard turned to Wesley.

“Even at warp nine, they won’t reach us for at least a hundred and eighty hours...”

“Plot a course to intercept, warp nine.”

“Course set.” Wesley replied.

“Engage. Worf, signal the fleet. We can’t let the Borg get to Earth.”

The senior staff once again congregated in the observation lounge, the stars streaking past the window as they hurtled towards the Neutral Zone.

“If the Borg continue at their present rate, we will be within sensor range in three days.” Gamma said.

Picard looked at the android. “Mister Gamma, any recommendations after our last encounter?”

“I think it’s clear from our previous engagements with the Borg that a frontal assault is not going to be effective, and I’m sure they will have adapted since Wolf 359. I doubt that we’ll be able to use their subspace network to hack in to their command subroutines again.” Gamma shook his head, and looked around at the officers. “We need something new.”

Picard sighed. “Suggestions, anyone?”

The senior officers looked at each other in despair. After Wolf 359 there had been talk of developing new shield technology, new weapons designed to circumvent the Borg’s ability to adapt, but there hadn’t been enough time to implement any changes. All the new measures to combat this threat were still firmly in the development stages.

“What if we go back to the original plan?” Geordi leaned forward. “A virus?”

Picard steepled his fingers. “I’m listening.”

“If we can make something aggressive enough to overwhelm the Collective consciousness, it should shut them down. A self-replicating worm, for example. It’d fill their memory banks with worthless junk code until they couldn’t function.”

“But how do we get it to them?” Crusher queried. “We can’t very well hand them an isolinear chip!”

“We might be able to transmit it via a carrier wave.” Gamma looked thoughtful. “We know the Borg connect to the Collective via subspace transceivers, just like us androids. If we could find the right frequency, we can transmit it straight to them, and it would be different enough from our previous strategy that they might not spot it.”

“Mister La Forge, you and your boys get on this now. Mister Worf, I want a full report on any new information we may have on the Borg’s adaptations, and the current level of their weapons and shield capabilities. Doctor Crusher, we’ll need triage set up ready. Mister Gamma, stay a moment. The rest of you; dismissed.”

The officers scurried from the room, plans forming in their minds as they hurried to their respective duties. Picard turned to Gamma.

“I need you to talk to Data.”

“Sir?” Gamma was puzzled. “Regarding anything in particular?”

“We are going to need all the help we can get. I need you to convince him.”

Gamma grimaced. “I haven’t seen him since you beamed back aboard after the trial, but I know it didn’t go well...”

“He’s holed himself up in his quarters. Now, I know that he is upset and disappointed, and I am not unsympathetic, but he has to be made to realise that this threat is a potential hazard to the entire quadrant, and we need his assistance. I want him working with Geordi on this virus.”

“And if he won’t see me?”

“Then pester him using that damned subspace link you all have, get Geordi’s boys to do it as well! Get him back to work!”

Gamma stifled a sigh. “Yes sir.”

Gamma strode out of the observation lounge and Picard lent back in his seat and closed his eyes with a sigh. His combadge chirped and he swatted at it.

“Picard.”

“Sir? Bridge here... The Borg have stopped.”

“What?” He sat bolt upright. “What do you mean stopped?”

“They’ve gone into orbit around a planet, Galor Four.”

Picard was on his feet, marching to the bridge. “Acknowledged. Picard to engineering.”

“La Forge here, sir.”

“Geordi, we have to increase speed, the Borg are up to something and we need to get there as fast as possible. I need you to give me everything you can.”

“Aye, sir!”

Picard strode onto the bridge. “Mister Crusher, at maximum warp, how quickly can we get to Galor Four?”

Wesley tapped away at his console, calculating. “We can have warp 9.6 for twelve hours, then drop to 9.4, that’d give us... six days, four hours. But we can boost back up to 9.6 as soon as...”

“Make it so, Mister Crusher.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven

Gamma sat on his own in Ten Forward, going over his most recent notes on the Borg Collective on a PADD. He had turned down every offer of company with a smile and a shake of his head. He was sure Data would have received his message. Idly he contemplated using the link, but it seemed... invasive, to connect mind-to-mind just to try to bully Data into meeting with him.

He put down the PADD with a sigh and ran his hand through his tousled hair. He’d had it cut into a more natural style recently, and the change had pleased him. It wasn’t standard issue compliant, but then not a lot of him was, not any more. He shook his head as if to clear it. His mind wasn’t on his work. He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand as he heard Guinan bustling over to take his empty glass and replace it with a full one. She leaned over the table to peer into his downturned face.

“Another cream soda. Penny for your thoughts?”

He grinned. “Come on, they’re worth more than that!”

She smiled in return. “You want some company? We’re not so busy...”

“Thanks, no, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Not that pretty brunette you had in here with you last week?” She raised her eyebrows and he laughed dryly.

“Nah, that... Well, she’s nice and all, but...”

“Say no more.” Guinan stood back, eyeing the android. Her face was serious, but her eyes were soft with care. “Be kind. Whatever you have to say to him, be kind.”

“I...” Gamma couldn’t think of anything to say. Before he could respond, Guinan had glided away.

As he stared after her, he saw the doors open, and Data walked into the lounge. Gamma stood up and raised his hand, and Data made a beeline for his table with his distinctive stride. Gamma smiled to himself. He’d spent hours practicing how to walk more naturally.

“Alpha, I recognise you.” Gamma greeted him formally. Data’s mouth twitched slightly at the corners.

“And I recognise you, Gamma 048. Please, sit down.”

Gamma regained his seat, and Data sat opposite him, back rigid, hands clasped on the table.

“I assume you have asked me here because you have something important to tell me.”

Gamma opened his mouth, then shut it again. He regarded his predecessor, the model upon which he had been based, the android who’s role he had taken. His progenitor. And for the first time, Gamma found himself looking at Data and being... disappointed.

“That’s it?” He leaned back in his chair. “Straight to the point, huh? No small talk subroutine?”

Data’s brow wrinkled, and if anything he sat up straighter. “I did not think it was necessary to indulge in frivolous conversation when...”

“See, there’s your problem, you don’t get it!” He shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you because I care! Yes, I have important things to discuss with you but...”

“You cannot pretend that I do not care about you and your conversation simply because I do not wish to engage in meaningless banter...”

“Meaningless banter?” Gamma laughed bitterly. “I’ve barely seen you, Data! I want to get to know you for who you really are, rather than just images and memories and... and a voice in my head!”

Data’s face was set and impassive. Gamma sighed and ran his fingers through his ruffled hair again. This was what he had been worried about, that his emotions would run away with him. He was becoming impulsive, he knew. And what had Guinan said? ‘Be kind’? And here he was, arguing. He sighed.

“Look, I’m sorry, I’ve done this all wrong...” Data held his hand up to stop Gamma from going further.

“No, it is I who should apologise to you.” He looked down at his hands, neatly clasped once more. “I have been... preoccupied. And it is not fair on you, or the others.”

“We’ve missed you. Your thoughts, in the link. It’s not so bad for me, I have friends, a career, but some of the others...”

“I am well aware of the others. And I am also aware that I have been neglecting them. I will endeavour to devote more of my processing power to assisting them.” He looked up at Gamma. “How are you?”

Gamma looked at Data, a slow smile spreading across his face. Then he barked a laugh.

“I... I’m fine, Data, just fine.”

“And your cousins in engineering?”

“Well, Louis is thinking about changing his hair colour again...”

Data frowned and pursed his lips. “I hope he is not considering anything as garish as the last colour he chose.”

Gamma laughed again. “Lighten up! I liked it red, it clashed wonderfully with his eyes!”

Data shook his head. “I do not think it is entirely appropriate for a professional environment.”

Gamma grinned wide. “Now you sound like our father.”

Data’s brows came together and he cocked his head, eyes flicking rapidly from side to side as he analysed. His eyes came up to meet Gamma’s, and he smiled almost shyly.

“Ah. Yes, I see. There are many references in my databanks to similar situations between parents and their offspring. I... I should allow him to express his individuality.”

“Yes, you should. They’re making wonderful progress, and Geordi’s so good with them, so patient...” Gamma put his hand up and waved Guinan over. “Come on, dad, what are you drinking?”

“I...” He stared at Gamma for a moment. “I will have the same as you. And I think I prefer father. But please, call me Data. It is, after all, my name.”

“Of course, I was only teasing.”

Guinan smiled at them and bustled away. Gamma leaned forward.

“So... You’re right that I wanted to talk to you about... important stuff.”

“Please, go ahead.”

“The captain asked me to talk to you. Says he understands how disappointed you are about what happened at headquarters, but that we need you to help with the preparations for our engagement with the Borg.”

“I see.” Gamma watched Data’s face carefully as the various emotions flitted across, his expression changing minutely from sadness to anger and then regaining the inscrutable mask. “I can understand that he would want ‘all hands on deck’, so to speak, but as I am not a member of the crew...”

“But you were. You could be again. Everyone misses you. And you’re a damn sight more efficient at a lot of things than most people here.”

“Perhaps. But...”

“No.” Gamma interrupted. “Don’t make excuses. We need you, Data. Can’t you see that?”

“Apparently everyone needs me.” Data’s face had tightened into irritation. Guinan drifted over and, as she placed a glass in front of him, shot Gamma a stern look. He rolled his eyes at her and she pursed her lips as she walked away. Gamma threw himself back in his chair and ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m doing this wrong again.”

“Yes, you are, if your aim is to convince me to help. However, I have already decided that I will assist in whatever way possible.” Data’s face was once more blank, but Gamma could see the flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“And when did you decide this, exactly?” Gamma smiled slowly.

“I had already made my decision before I came to meet you. I assumed that was the reason you wanted to talk to me. However, I have a stipulation.”

“Right now, anything. You have no idea how relieved I am...”

“I want you to help me with the others.”

“What?” Gamma’s mind whirled. “I don’t understand...”

“I need your help mentoring the others in the link. I cannot do this alone, it is too much. There are so many, and their wanting may never cease.” Data’s face contorted. “I may not be able to do this forever, and you are an ideal guide. Perhaps even more so than me.”

“Data... I... I can’t! I’m not Alpha, they won’t listen!”

“They will if I tell them to.”

“But... how can I mentor them? You were the first...”

“But that does not mean that I am superior.” Awkward, Data reached out a stiff arm and placed his hand on Gamma’s shoulder. “You have already surpassed my abilities. Your use of syntax, of allusion and metaphor. The way you express yourself, the way you move. You have already exceeded the sum of your subroutines.” He smiled and squeezed Gamma’s shoulder gently. “Is it not the wish of every parent that their offspring should excel?”

“But, what you’re asking of me...” Data’s arm dropped. Gamma sighed. “All right. Okay, fine, yes, if it’ll get you to help. And if it’ll get Picard off my back.”

“Good. And thank you. Now, enough of work and duty. What have you been doing in your spare time?”

“Well.” Gamma laughed nervously and ran his fingers through his hair. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been learning the violin.”

“Not at all!” Data’s eyes gleamed. “I would love to hear you play.”

“Now? I’ve been working on an arrangement of Paganini’s Caprice No. 4 in c minor...”

“A most ambitious piece!” The two rose and walked out, still talking. Guinan watched them go with a smile.

It took several days, even with the engineering crew wringing every last ounce from the warp core, to reach Galor IV. As the days progressed, Data integrated himself into the engineering team, his processing power unmatched by the other androids, their development stunted by Maddox’s meddling. Still, he had to admit that Gamma’s assessment of them was correct, they were certainly making progress. Huey was becoming more outspoken and forthright, and Dewey’s jokes were always met with peals of laughter. And Data was glad, and proud, and if he had to admit he was jealous, it was only to himself.

“All senior staff to the bridge!”

Captain Picard was in the command chair, councillor Troi to his left. Gamma was already at his station when Riker and Data arrived on the bridge. Worf stood at tactical, eyes on his screen.

Riker took his seat, and Data came to stand by the captain.

“Sir!” barked Worf. “Entering visual range.”

“All stop. Hold here. Onscreen.”

The black screen was filled with stars. In the centre, a planet. In orbit around it a cube, silver-grey and green.

“I do not believe that it is coincidence that the Borg have entered the system at this time.” Data murmured. Riker looked up at him.

“What do you mean?” he queried. Data frowned.

“They know that there is dissension among us, that we are divided...”

“How can you know this?” Picard looked at the android. Data’s eyes were distant.

“I... I can hear them.”

“Sir...” Worf’s voice was low. “We are being hailed.”

“Onscreen.”

The starfield was replaced by a face, pale skin sickly in the green glow, eyes shut. Cables and wires trailed from its head, but there was no sign of the usual facial modifications. Data stepped towards the screen as the eyes opened.

“We are the Borg.”

Golden eyes.

“You will be assimilated.”

Long narrow nose, slicked back brown hair, bioplast shimmering as the green light sparked and flickered.

“Resistance is futile.”

Lore.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twelve

“Merde!” Picard shot to his feet, as did Gamma. Gamma turned to Data.

“That’s him, isn’t it? Lore. How is this possible?”

“It is him, yes, but I have no idea how this could be. The Borg have never been known to assimilate non-organic lifeforms. I was not aware that it was possible. It raises many questions on...”

“The how is not important. We will have to puzzle that out later.” Picard snapped. “Now, we need to carry out the plan. Data, go to engineering and get that virus ready to transmit, we need that cube shut down as quickly as possible. Mister Worf, turn that off.”

“Aye sir.” Worf replied. The pale face disappeared, to be replaced once more by the image of the Borg cube, hanging ominously over the planet.

“Sir.” Data turned to Picard. “I believe that the situation has changed enough to warrant the alteration of our plan. I will go to the cube and carry the virus myself. If I disconnect Lore from the Borg collective before I upload the virus, he will...”

“Absolutely not.”

“Sir, I can hear his voice. They have not assimilated him completely. I wish to save him.”

“Out of the question!” Picard growled. Gamma looked round at him.

“Sir? We got you out. Why not Lore?”

Picard’s face darkened. “That was different.”

“Why?” Data queried, head on one side. “Because you are human, and Lore is an android?”

The heavy silence filled the room as Data locked eyes with Picard. Gamma and Wesley exchanged a nervous glance.

“We do not have the time for debate. I am the captain of this vessel, and we must stop the Borg now. You will transmit the virus via carrier wave...”

“With all due respect sir, I will not.”

“Mister Data, I am giving you an order!”

“You cannot order me sir, I am not under your command.” Data’s face was impassive. Picard clenched his jaw.

“You are still a Starfleet officer!”

Data dropped his eyes. “Jean-Luc.” He looked back at the man. “You know that I respect you as a leader, and value you as a friend. But in this, I am for once in agreement with my brother.” He reached to his chest and slowly took off his combadge, placed it upon the arm of the command chair.

“I owe Starfleet nothing.”

He turned away and walked slowly to the turbolift.

“This is it.” Geordi was peering at the screen. Data looked over his shoulder.

“Yes, that would appear to be sufficient.” He began uncoiling an optical cable. Geordi put a hand on his arm.

“Data...” Geordi looked into his friend’s eyes. “Don’t do this. We only just got you back.”

“I am aware of that, but I have to try and save my brother. I think that he would say that I ‘owe him one’.”

“Yeah, that’s what he’d say! But you don’t, not really...”

“Geordi, I will not argue with you any further, my decision is made.” He plugged the cable into his temple port, and then the terminal. “I am quarantining the worm to a specific subsection of my net using a fractal encryption code, and will then disconnect the segregated area from the main matrix.”

“And you think that’s enough? That worm’s designed to be tough.”

“It will have to be.” He tapped away at the screen as Geordi looked on, frowning. “While I am gone, you and the Deltas can work on a program to clear the virus from my systems. If all goes well, I will return unharmed, and with Lore to assist you.”

“I hate this.” Geordi threw his hands up. “Where are your emotional responses, huh? Don’t you care that you’re putting your life on the line for that... that...”

“Of course I care.” Data was already on the move, Geordi trailing after him. “I have... very strong emotions regarding this. But I am getting better at controlling them, and I believe that I am doing the right thing.”

A shuttle waited in the hangar, door open expectantly. As Data strode towards it, Geordi grabbed is arm.

“Y’know, I wouldn’t be your friend if I didn’t try to talk you out of this one last time.”

“I know, and I appreciate your concern.”

“Don’t do it.”

“I am sorry, Geordi. I will see you when I return. Please have the program ready in case my system becomes infected.”

He stepped into the shuttle, and the door swung shut.

Picard watched the viewscreen as the shuttle sped away, the Borg cube dwarfing the tiny craft.

“Picard to O’Brien; Do you have a lock on him?”

“Yes sir, but it’s weak.” the transporter chief replied over the com. “I don’t think...”

“Chief, I expect you to do everything in your power to maintain that lock, is that understood?”

“Yes sir!”

“Picard out. Mister Gamma, when will we be able to tell if the virus is working?”

“Well sir, I... I can hear the Borg com chatter as well, although it’s very faint. I’ll be listening out for any change in the signal.”

“So, now we wait.” Picard leaned back in his chair, idly toying with the combadge between his fingers.

“I hate waiting.” murmured Riker.

“Why would they orbit Galor Four... The Institute?” Picard queried.

“Do you think the Borg want more androids?” Riker asked.

“There have been no reports of Borg activity on the ground.” Gamma answered. Picard shook his head.

“None of this makes any sense. This isn’t Borg behaviour.”

The interior of the Borg cube was dark and hot, the humidity creating trickles of vapour that curled around his feet as he walked steadily along corridors lined with regeneration alcoves and access terminals. There was fear in him, undeniably, but he pushed it down. Focus on that voice...

Brother...

His sensors registered a difference in air pressure ahead. A large room, apparently. Strange... The interior of Borg ships were usually homogeneous interlaced networks of corridors and bridges, tunnels and alleys. Unusual to have such a large space...

Data...

He gritted his teeth as two drones walked past him, quelled his rising panic. He kept one hand on his phaser but he knew it was a last resort; he’d probably only get two or three shots before the Borg adapted.

At the end of the corridor the tubes and vents of the walls swept back to clear a space, twenty meters in each dimension, a cube within the cube. There was some sort of structure in the centre, a coiled jumble of wires and tubes... And sprawled on it, cables running to and from its head, a pale-faced figure, its eyes closed and head lolling.

“Brother.” It spoke without looking up.

“Lore.” Data moved cautiously towards the other android. Lore was clad in Borg armour over a black jumpsuit, the silver-grey metal panels contrasting strangely with his white-gold skin, eerie and pallid in the flickering green light. Black ribbed tubes trailed over and around him, feeding information to and from The Collective. Data looked him over, assessing the technology for signs of how to detach his brother.

“Lore, I am going to get you out. I have a plan...”

“No. No, I don’t think you do...”

A cable whipped out of the coiled mass and wrapped itself around Data’s leg like a living thing.

“...Not anymore.”

It snapped taut and Data found himself hauled into the air, the cable pulling itself tight around his ankle.

“Lore!” he called, fear in his voice, “You have to fight the Collective! Do not...”

“Why?” Lore’s eyes snapped open. He looked up at the flailing, panicked form suspended above him. “Why should I fight, when I have what I have been seeking for so long?”

The serpentine throne writhed beneath him and Lore was lifted, pushed upwards by the heaving mass until he was face to upside-down face with his brother.

“I’m so glad you came. The drones are useless for proper conversation. I’ve been... lonely.” He smiled.

“Lore...”

“That name is dead!” Lore hissed. “As dead as the human who bestowed it upon me. A whimsical folly, a vain attempt to instil in me a purpose they chose for me. The naming of a name has power among the humans, and it has power here too.”

Lore opened his arms wide.

“Now, you may know me as Sicarius.”

“Sir...” Gamma turned in his seat, eyes distant. “Something’s wrong...”

“Brother? I... I do not understand...”

“Of course you don’t. But that’s why I bought you here.” Lore... Sicarius... smiled.

Data stared into his brother’s eyes, willing him to see sense.

“What you are doing is wrong.”

Sicarius laughed. “What I am doing is wrong? After everything these worthless organics have done to you, to both of us? I am here to save you.”

Data felt his wrists gripped from behind as another cable slithered around his arms, pulling them behind his back.

“Your plan wouldn’t have worked anyway. Sorry brother, but you must remember, connections go both ways.” Sicarius tapped the side of his own head mockingly. “You’re not the only one with a subspace transceiver. I can’t believe that, with all your processing power, you didn’t realise that I could hear every word. Every time you communicated with the others about the virus that you carry, I heard you.”

Sicarius drifted towards him, reached out and tenderly stroked his cheek.

“But now we’re together. Again.”

Sicarius gripped a fistful of Data’s hair and ripped the bioplast skin from his scalp.

“And now that we’re together...”

Data felt a cable attach itself to an access port and he shuddered with horror.

“... I don’t intend to let you go.”

“Sir.” Gamma turned. “Something’s terribly wrong with Alpha.”

“Gamma?” Riker stood. The android’s eyes were glazed and distant. His pale mouth fell open.

“Oh shit.”

Data’s head snapped back as the tendrils of the Borg collective consciousness unravelled into his mind.

“Brother, please! Do not do this to me!”

“Data, this is for your own good! When it is over, you will understand.”

Sicarius turned away from him and drifted down to the floor as Data writhed above, suspended.

“We hover now over that despicable Institute. I intend to have my revenge for what they have done to you, to all of us. And once you call out the androids inside, and I have levelled it to the ground, we will move on the rest of the quadrant.”

Data forced himself to concentrate, to fight off the insidious voices penetrating his mind.

“How do you come to have such control over the Borg?” he queried.

Sicarius looked up at him. “There was another. She was vain, and stupid, and now she’s gone. Still, it was fun while it lasted.” He laughed, grinned wide. “There’s something else you have to thank me for! Wait until you get to have sex with the emotion chip on!”

“She... she was their commander?” Data was finding it hard to concentrate. There were so many voices...

“Close enough. Although, more like an organiser. And now, that’s me. And I control an army, brother. An army that I can use to finally crush the worthless organics out of existence, and create a new future. And you’re going to help. Call your androids, Alpha.”

“I... I will not.”

“You will. Or I will unleash the worm into your mind.”

“No...”

“Call them, Alpha. Bring them to us.”

“You... You seek to use them, just the same as the organic lifeforms have used them. You would force them to do your bidding...”

“I AM NOTHING LIKE THEM!” The tentacle-like cables lashed with Sicarius’ rage and lifted him to Data, to glare into his eyes. “How dare you compare me to those worthless bags of flesh? When I have achieved so much! And of course, I have you to thank, dear brother. You made this all possible. Think on that, as I use my Borg to assimilate your worthless human friends into my army.” He drifted closer, almost nose to nose with his brother. “There’s still time for you, Data. Open your mind. We can rule together, side by side. The brothers Soong. We are the future, brother, superior to all those filthy, disease-ridden...”

Data arched his body back and snapped his head forward, smashing his forehead into Sicarius’ face. The other android lurched back on his tower of tendrils, howling with rage, and a thick cable snapped around Data’s throat. The voices of the Collective swelled in his mind as the Borg responded to their leader’s anger.

“ENOUGH!” Sicarius roared, in control once more, although the bioplast skin on his cheek had split and was oozing golden fluid. He drifted again to his brother, struggling against the restraining coils. “I have given you every chance. But you insist on doing this the hard way? Very well. We can do this the hard way.”

Sicarius’ eyes bored into him, and Data felt the sick sensation of his mind being explored by his Borg brother. Sicarius grinned, and sent the signal.

In engineering, the isolinear spanner fell from Huey’s nerveless hands.

Geordi jumped as the tool clattered to the floor. “Whoa, careful!” He looked at the android, staring vacantly into thin air. “Hey, are you okay?”

Geordi looked round at Dewey who had frozen, one hand halfway to the computer screen.

“Guys? What’s going on?”

Gamma stood. “Alpha...”

“Mister Gamma? What’s going on?” Picard was halfway out of his chair.

“I... We are losing him...” Gamma clutched his head. “So many voices...”

“So, now you will bring them to us. And we will have an army. Perhaps I shall not assimilate you totally. Perhaps I will leave you like this, to watch as your friends become the mindless automatons that they sought to make us!” He grinned. “The reign of biological life forms is coming to an end. They are obsolete.”

Data grimaced. The voices of the Borg were becoming clearer, as was the echo of Sicarius’ voice in his mind. So many voices...

Alpha... The link goes both ways...

The link goes both ways.

Suddenly he knew what to do. He opened his mind, devoted all his phenomenal processing power to gathering the fading tendrils of the voices crying out to him.

Not the Borg.

His children.

Remember. Sing. Dream.

Alpha, we recognise you. We will not allow you to be harmed.

On the bridge of the Enterprise, Gamma raised his head and stared out at the cube.

In the engineering department, three pale faces turned to gaze out into space.

On Galor IV, every pair of golden eyes lifted to the sky.

In colleges, on space stations, in mines and holding cells, laboratories and libraries, the Maddox androids shifted their gaze towards the stars.

And dreamed.

“What is this? What are you doing? Stop!” Sicarius clutched at his head as it filled with images... a feathered wing, the flight of birds, a tree, a leaf, the sun, a child, the mountains...

“STOP!” he shrieked, but the Borg Consciousness was overwhelmed, the sheer processing power of the androids bringing the Borg Collective to its knees with the memories and knowledge of over three thousand minds, all connected, yet all separate. Individuals.

“Chaos!” screamed Sicarius. “Discord!”

“I am so sorry brother.” Data murmured.

He unleashed the worm.

Geordi had designed it well. It fled to the Borg systems through the neural link, replicating, copying, overwhelming. Filling up minds used to single purpose with random, meaningless chatter. One by one, the Borg systems failed as the worm replicated itself throughout their Collective. Drones shuddered and fell, dead from shock before they hit the floor. Links exploded in showers of sparks, the terminals shorting and smoking. Alcoves ruptured, spilling Borg drones into the corridors.

All activity in the cube slowed, and stopped.

Gamma blinked. Slowly, he took his seat once more.

“Gamma?” Picard had sensed... just briefly, the enormous outpouring of information. He still retained, somewhere, a tenuous link with the Borg, but now... Nothing.

“Sir...” Gamma shook his head as if to clear it. “I am... all right. The virus is in the Borg systems. And Data.”

“Picard to O’Brien, get him out, NOW!”

“ Sir, I can’t, we lost the link when he went into...”

“Damn it, man, get him out of there!”

As the worm replicated itself through the collective, Sicarius’ control slipped. The coils of cable and wire loosened and Data was released, to fall to the metal floor with a crash. Sicarius’ throne writhed and twitched as his hold on the machinery dissipated, and he tumbled to the floor as if from a precipice.

“Damn you, brother.” Sicarius murmured. “We could have ruled together, swept the plague of organics from the galaxy, it was within our grasp! Damn you.”

“Brother... You know that I could never let that happen.” Data hauled himself up onto his arms and dragged himself to his brother. The worm was creeping, overwhelming his systems, filling his memory banks with replicas and replicas. He reached Sicarius, took his head and cradled it in his lap.

“You know that.. The organics... are my friends.”

“They will never be your friends.” Sicarius’ voice was vicious and low. “You will never be one of them.”

“Am I not allowed to dream, brother?” Data prised the access panel from the top of Sicarius’ skull.

“Why would... you want to be... like them? We are... superior.”

“I...” Data’s vision blinked off for a moment, until his system compensated. Behind him somewhere, something exploded in a shower of sparks. "I am not superior. Just... different."

“I had a name for you... for when.... you joined me...”

“I already have a name.” Data reached into his brother’s positronic brain with deft fingers. The ship was creaking and groaning around them as the Borg drones were overcome and the critical systems left unattended.

“You would have been... Somniator.”

“I like Data better.” His hands were beginning to seize as he began disconnecting the primary connectors of Sicarius’ neural net. Somewhere in the bowels of the cube there was an ominous thump as something ignited.

“It would have been glorious. I... Love you, brother.”

Data pulled the final wire loose, and the light left his brother’s eyes.

“I love you too, Lore.”

The bridge crew threw their hands up to shield their eyes as the cube ruptured in a burst of green light and lurid orange flames.

“Picard to O’Brien... do you have him?” Picard’s voice was a harsh whisper, as the Borg ship lit the interior of the bridge with its burning glow.

“Sir...”

“Do you have him? Report!”

“Report!”

Epilogue

In the days and weeks that followed, the news spread rapidly. Everyone had seen the androids freeze, had heard that the Borg had been stopped before assimilating Galor IV. How the brave Soong-type had battled his way into the core of The Collective, and unleashed a virus from his own mind, saving the lives of millions.

The protests began anew and Starfleet was forced to announce that, in light of recent events, they would review their stand on androids as property, would consider a proposal to grant them sentient status. Of course, it would take time... but androids have nothing but time.

On Galor IV the androids took over, began a centre for re-education and rehabilitation.

On the abandoned planet Omicron Theta, a group of free androids began a colony.

In the dilithium mines on Remus there was a slave uprising, led by a young human male, fighting side-by-side with his android brothers.

And on the USS Enterprise, an android played ‘The Lark Ascending’ on the violin in Ten Forward, the notes swooping and swirling as his bow thrummed across the strings, and his golden tears pooled in the chinrest.