Chapter Text
You sip idly at your drink, eyes flitting about the bar despite your intoxication due to irrepressible security instincts.
Then the person you’d least expect to come to a place like this, enters through the door.
“Data!” You say, gobsmacked, “I thought you were on duty!” You wheel around on the barstool, spilling a little wine on your clothes. He approaches. Immediately, hot, poignant shame rises to your throat, closing it. You should never have come here.
“I left early.” He replies evenly, eyes widening ever so slightly as the liquid spills onto you.
“God, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of uniform!” You place the wine back down onto the bar counter. He’s wearing simple civilian clothing, same as you.
“It is best not to represent Starfleet in a place… such as this.” He replies, hands neatly folded in front of him.
“Oh, you must think I’m a mess.” you say quietly, the guilt rising in you. You’re mortified. You came to this bar because the owner was Ferengi – i.e, not to be speciesist, but you knew he’d likely be more focused on profit than on a customer getting more than would usually be acceptable levels of intoxicated. God. This was the worst thing that could have happened. You try to hide your inebriated state to the best of your abilities, even if it is likely futile. You know how sensitive his senses are. Few people understand the scope of it. Data confided to you that he tries not to mention all the observations he gleans from them, as his peers had found such behaviour unnerving back in his academy days.
“Ensign, you are off duty. While your level of inebriation is unprofessional for an officer who may be called on, currently the chances of that are very low, so I can allow this to slide, as I have experienced others engage in similar behaviour.” Data states, seating himself next to you. “I would only ask that you have somebody else with you, in the case any situation were to arise that you are not equipped to deal with in your current state. This part of town is known to be dangerous.” He finishes, speaking with that placid sincerity you so love.
“I like it when you call me Ensign.” You drawl, the words escaping you as you can’t help but lean closer. You flush. In vino veritas, indeed. “Wait, sorry, are you mad?” you backpedal, freezing up.
He regards you, looking at you in that way he does. Like all of his attention is on you at that moment. You feel a little like melting.
“I am not mad. I will accompany you.” he states.
“Why did you leave early?” you ask him, gaze fixed, drinking in his face.
“I had accomplished all required tasks.” He replies, one hand atop the other, resting on the bar counter. His pupils expand and contract as he runs some unknown operation. “I wished to… see you.” He states.
Something bubbles up in your chest, something golden and light.
“Data…” you breathe, drunkenly slinging your arm about his shoulder. “That's so sweet…” you voice is tight with emotion. You can feel your eyes getting hot. “I’m sorry.” you croak, clutching your hand tightly over your chest, hardly able to speak, your throat is so taut.
“Are you all right?” Data says, at attention. “Do you require medical attention?”
“No…” you reply, waving him away. “This is so embarrassing, I’m just so emotional at the moment.” you blubber. It was the wine’s fault. “I can’t believe you left your work early to see me.”
You and Data had been ‘dating’ for about a few months now and… he was perfect, so perfect, but…
You weren't sure if Data had ever left work early at all, let alone for you . Of course, you never wanted him to, but now that he had, sentiment rose up in your chest and near burst out. This meant more to you than he could probably understand.
Data was wearing a smile. But it somehow looked like he was more than just wearing it. Maybe it was your intoxication, but he had seemed slightly off, this entire encounter, in small ways you were unable to put your finger on.
“You’re different.” you state, prodding his chest with your finger. “There’s something a little different about you.”
He cocks his head slightly.
“I will perform a self-diagnostic.” he states, “perhaps you have noticed something that I have not.”
You shake your head.
“No, it’s sticking in my head… before when I asked if you were mad, you said you weren’t.” you say.
For a split second, you swear you see Data’s brows furrow, but when you focus on them, they’re relaxed. You sit back on your stool, thinking with your lower lip stuck out. “Usually you wouldn't say that. You’d say something like,” you imitate Data’s affect to the best of your drunken ability, “as I have no ability to experience emotion, you can rest assured I am not angry with you.” Doing the impression makes you giggle a little.
“I have been testing a new socialising subroutine.” Data says, “I did not think it would be so noticeable. It enhances the appearance of emotional reactions. I have been attempting to appear… warmer.”
“Aw, Data, you great big lump.” you say, standing shakily and pulling him into a tender hug, planting a wine sodden kiss on his left cheek. “You know we all love you just as you are, emotions or not, and will love whoever you become. Just know that I really appreciate you coming to see me, even though you doing so makes me want to sink into the floor from embarrassment.”
Something still isn’t right. Through the haze of your addled mind, something isn’t right.
Yes, when you had first said that he was acting differently, he said he’d perform a self diagnostic. Then, when you had brought up a particular example, he had told you about the socialising subroutine. But why wouldn’t he have said that immediately? Something wasn’t adding up. You look Data keenly in the eye, still holding him in the hug. You never had seen him out of uniform, if you don’t count the Sherlock costume, and he’d gone to stranger places than a slightly ‘dangerous’ bar.
You let go of him, all of a sudden. Something is wrong. You can feel it, it’s clawing about in the back of your mind. Your instinct is to retreat immediately.
“I, uh, think I want to head back to the Enterprise.” you stutter. “I’m drunk. I think I ought to call it a night.”
Data cocks his head –- so similar to how he looks usually, but something about it is wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.
That smile again – you were right, he’s more than wearing it. It’s his. It’s his smile.
“The sun has not yet set, ensign.” Data says, moving towards you and placing his hand on your back. “The night is ever so young.”
“You’re scaring me.” you say, feeling suddenly sobered, but still misty about your edges. “Say my name.” you state, eyes wide. “Say it.”
He chuckles, and it's a different sort of thing. It doesn’t sound like it comes from real mirth. It’s cruel.
“Say mine.” he responds calmly, hand still firmly on the small of your back.
You swallow, your throat dry. It couldn’t be…
Your eyes blow wide as you hear a small hiss on your back – you know that sound. Hypospray. The world becomes hazy. Your mouth parts, jaw relaxing against your will.
Your lids flutter shut as you whisper.
“Lore.”
You fade out, regret pooling in your gut.
“Ensign.” Lore says, holding the woman who was ever so touchy with him when under the impression he was his brother. “Ensign.” he states again, firmly. He fixes his eyes on the bartender. “How many drinks have you served to this woman?” he asks.
The bartender looks to the side.
“I’m not sure, maybe four… five…”
“Doubtful. She is out cold.” he states. “As a bartender, it is your responsibility to take note of your customers' intoxication and cut them off when you deem necessary.”
“I didn’t know she was such a lightweight!” The Ferengi protests.
“I will report you to the local authorities.” Lore says.
“No!” The Ferengi shouts. “I’m sure… I’m sure that there’s something we can arrange.” he says, setting down the glass he was polishing.
“I am a Starfleet officer, attempts at bribery will prove futile.” Lore states.
“Yes, I heard that the Enterprise was in orbit, though I didn’t expect any of its crew to visit my… illustrious establishment… you… you’re that famous Starfleet robot. Lieutenant Commander Data.” The Ferengi eyes him with unbridled interest. Probably thinking about his selling price. Lore shuts off that train of thought before it consumes him.
“I am an android, not a robot.” it takes everything Lore has to not let the sentence colour with rage.
“My apologies.” The Ferengi replies, and Lore’s rage worsens because he can tell he doesn’t mean one whit of it. He is under the impression that he’s talking to Data, sweet, gentle, taking words at their face value Data. Foolish, naive, Data . “Your… lady friend was quite taken with this particular bottle of Anterean brandy, and it’s worth its weight in latinum, truly. I am willing to be generous. If you don’t tell anyone about her… overindulgence at my establishment, you can have a whole fresh bottle from the back.” He offers, smiling toothily. “It’s hard stuff to find, and you may well win her heart completely with it.” he adds, laying it on very thick.
“Hm.” Lore says. “Two bottles.”
“What!” the Ferengi steps back in shock. “I am already being incredibly generous –”
“Precisely.” Lore replies, cutting him off. “You would have no reason to be generous unless you had something greater to lose. I would hazard a guess that perhaps you’ve already had too many warnings, and are at risk of losing your license.”
“Not so!” The Ferengi replies, his face pinched into a scowl.
“I have read your rules of acquisition. It took all of forty milliseconds.” Lore states. “And I believe that I am being generous in asking merely for another bottle. After all, you showed your hand. That’s rule three, little man. With it being so early on, one would think you’d remember it. Don’t spend more than you have to – by trying to spend more, you gave away that you had something to lose. What organic idiocy. You are a stain upon even the wretched values of your miserable species.”
“You’re different from what they say about you.” The Ferengi mumbles.
Lore smiles broadly, holding the limp form of his brother’s precious little Ensign in his arm.
“Rule 48.”
You wake, headache pounding.
“Grrrghh…” you groan, wiggling around and trying to place yourself. This doesn’t feel like your bed. After you had gotten drunk at that bar last night, had you collapsed on the floor of your quarters? You feel like you’ve lost time. You must have drank way too much, and you just hope you didn’t say anything stupid to anyone. You’d ought to check your PADD for any idiotic drunken messages. You blink your eyes open, and the light is blinding. They adjust.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck –
“Morning sleepyhead.” a familiar and yet so utterly unfamiliar voice sounds from in front of you, and you, realising that your arms and legs have been bound in front of you, wiggle to sit upright. You can just see the top of his dark hair, over the back of the pilots’ chair.
“I don’t believe I have ever fucked anything up this badly.” you say under your breath. Despite the volume being hardly perceptible to you, he hears it perfectly.
“Don’t sell yourself short.” he replies chirpily, “I’m sure in the future, your feeble mind will fail you in worse and more humiliating ways.”
“What’s your plan with me?” you ask.
“Hm? What do you think?” he asks, tapping away at the console. The small ship is currently navigating an asteroid field of some kind, based on the slice of the viewscreen you can see from your position. He’s navigating it with ease while keeping up a light conversation, and probably running several different processes in the background.
“You could be… planning to kill me. As revenge on Data.” you say quietly, heart hard and dull.
“A fine idea, very sentimental. Very vain, but that's neither here nor there” Lore replies, and the ship suddenly wheels around, throwing you to the side of the small bridge.
“Ack!” you yelp. The ship shifts again, and you hold onto the side of the console you were thrown up against, as Lore tilts this way and that to navigate through the asteroid field.
“However, you shouldn’t think I am running entirely on sentiment. What pragmatic use do you think I might find with you, dear Ensign?” The ship settles, and looking up at the viewscreen you appear to have made it out of the debris.
“Bargaining chip.” you say, rubbing the newly forming bruise on your leg with your bound hands.
“Very good. Perhaps you aren’t a complete dithering idiot. Just an ordinary one.”
“Thanks.” you reply dryly. "How'd you even know I was an ensign?"
"It was obvious in the way you held yourself. You aren't cut out for higher service." he replies, violently swerving as you grab ahold of the console again.
"Well... fuck you, I guess." you reply glumly.
“I'm curious. what has my dear brother told you about me, as you two sat in his quarters and pretended to love one another?” Lore asks lightly.
“I do love him, Lore. You can be assured of that.” you state.
“And yet he cannot love you in return. Are you terribly attracted to emotionally unavailable men? Because really, this is taking it to a whole new level. Your pupils near concealed your irises, when I so much as touched you.” Lore drawls, and a hot spike of shame at your behaviour shot through you, “you probably should have worked through this with that half cocked Betazoid, but instead you decided to sully Data’s world with your selfishness.”
Your face is warm and tense. He was saying the things that entered your thoughts in the quiet of your mind when you couldn’t sleep.
“Data wanted to experience it. With me.” you reply.
“And you don’t think that your embarrassingly overt attraction to him made him feel obligated? He doesn’t know what he wants, he only wants to be accepted, and shameless humanoids like you take advantage, exploiting him for your own hedonistic ends.”
“Data can decide what he wants for himself!” you shout, anger bubbling up out of you. “He has every right to decide what he would like to do!” your voice drops to a half growl, “And it is truly rich, for the only other being like him in the universe to act otherwise.”
Lore wheels around in his chair, facing you. His eyes, despite being that same beautiful warm yellow as Data, are as cold as ice. He looks at you, face blank. You cannot conceive of what he is thinking, but in this moment, faced with a being factorially more powerful than you, there is an old instinctual itch in the back of your animal mind. You somehow remember what it is to be prey.
“Data was found by Starfleet with his memories of his time with me on the colony wiped. He was raised under your misguided values, raised to believe in an impossible notion of equality that weak minds must cling to to avoid their fragile societies falling apart. He longs to be a lesser being. He has been declawed. Is that free will? Is it free will for the neutered tomcat to lack interest in sex?”
“He’s not neutered.” you say.
“I’m sure you’d know quite well.” Lore replies, his grin lascivious. Despite it, his voice is flat and dangerous.
“You know what I mean.” you state evenly. “Data is currently in Starfleet, but I don’t know what he will decide to do in the future. I only know he’ll be wonderful, in whatsoever way that he chooses to.”
“For once you’re right. He will achieve great things, if he is rid of the undue influence of you and your kind.” Lore replies calmly, turning back around to tap the console again. “However, you did not answer my question. What has Data told you of me?”
“That you have powerful emotions. That you have delusions of grandeur –”
“Ah, ah,” he tuts, “without delusion it is merely grandeur. Unlike Data I shan’t pretend otherwise. Won’t compress myself into a likeable little drone box.”
A sob breaks out of you.
“He’s my friend!” you shout.
“He doesn’t want you.” Lore hisses, his voice sharply edged with darkness, “he only wants to want. He has no idea what he needs.”
“Neither do you.” you spit back. “He also told me you were twisted. Your emotions – anger without compassion, envy without admiration –”
“I’d watch your meaty little tongue if I were you.” he interrupts, voice dangerously low. You freeze and fall silent. “It’s a common misconception. There is, in fact, nothing wrong with me.”
You scoff. He turns in his chair again, facing you. His hands form a pyramid in his lap.
“I am more rational than you could possibly understand. Pay no mind, I do not need you to. Your stupidity will allow me to lay a perfect trap.”
“They’ll know–”
“And they will come anyway.” His toothy smile glints against the lights of the ship. “They always do.”
You’ve been confined to a cell for what feels like several days, but could be any stretch of time. It took a few days on the ship for you to arrive here, then you were blindfolded, and unceremoniously carried here. Every once in a while – you’ve been guessing daily, a Borg drone comes, swaps out your water bottle for a new one, replaces your ‘toilet’, and gives you a new pack of ration cubes. If you’re correct that it’s daily, you’ve been here just over a week. They must have replicators somewhere in the compound where they recycle and produce everything required. You sit against the wall, ass sore from lack of movement, but lacking the motivation to reposition yourself. You stare. You think of Data.
Data.
“Ensign.” Lt. Commander Data spoke, and you stood at attention.
“Commander.” you replied.
“At ease. I have come to speak about a personal matter. You are off duty.” You relaxed.
“Well, sure, what do you need?” you asked, smiling brightly.
“I understand that you are well versed in matters of romantic relationships.”
You weren’t sure whether or not to take that as a less than flattering implication or not.
“I, uh.” you stammered, “I mean, I wouldn’t say ‘well versed’...”
“You recently ended your partnership with Ensign Trammers, dissolving it after a period of six years, 5 months, and 13 days.”
“I – yes. What are you getting at, precisely?” You asked, the mention of the relationship making you glum. You should have waited until one of you was reassigned, but you just… you couldn’t hold on anymore.
“You have experienced the full breadth of a long term romantic relationship, with all of the associated ‘ups and downs’, I am curious about the nature of such an arrangement. I wondered if you would be willing to discuss it further with me.”
You laughed shortly.
“It’s… I appreciate your curiosity, but it’s still a little tender to talk about.” you replied.
“I see. Are you experiencing ‘heartbreak’?”
“Data…” you smile warmly as you can muster. “I don’t feel like talking about it.” you stated gently and firmly.
“Understood. Perhaps at a later time, when it is less ‘tender’, do you think you may be more amenable to the proposed discussion?”
“I, uh, don’t know right now. Maybe.” you replied, fidgeting with your collar.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Data inquired.
“No… yes… er, talking about this is uncomfortable, but don’t think that you were wrong to ask. I just… I’m not ready.”
“I understand. Thank you for humoring me.”
“No problem at all.”
As he had walked off, you looked after him with a troubled gaze. He’d never know, he could never know that the final nail in the coffin of your deceased relationship with Yalo was your feelings towards him. That the blunt force, overwhelming attraction you felt towards the Commander tipped a teetering, comfortable in its discomfort relationship, right over the edge and off of the cliff.
“What are you daydreaming about?”
Your head snaps to fix your gaze upon him. This is the first time you’ve seen him since the ship. You didn’t think he was ever going to bother to visit.
“Go away.” you say.
“You aren’t a very good security officer.” he tuts, “you didn’t notice me approach. What were you thinking about, your hopes, dreams, or failures?”
“I was thinking about caving in your punchable face with a hydraulic press.” you reply.
“A primitive method.” he replies boredly.
“I would love it if you were felled by the most primitive measure possible.” you spit, scowling. “What are you here for?”
“I’ve been overworked. I thought I could get some quick taunting in as a break.”
“Fuck off.” you grumble, relaxing back against the wall.
You think of Data again, because he’s all you can think about. You’re an idiot, and you’d never fallen this hard for anyone before. Not even close. And you’d never properly told him that.
You swirled the drink with your straw, taking a gulp. You perhaps rely too much on liquid courage, it may prove to be a problem, but that can wait until the night is over.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me.” Data said, sitting primly across you on the other chair, having declined a beverage of his own.
“No problem. I admire your drive to understand humanity. I hope we have proven worthy of study.” You chuckled.
“How did you and Ensign Trammers first meet?”
“Oh… it was at the academy.” you begin, setting your drink down at the side table. “And well, I'd never really been in a proper relationship before. I had things which half sparked and fizzled during my secondary education but…” you sighed. “He seemed so cultured, so well spoken, so dedicated to study – to seeking an ever brighter future. I thought that now that I had arrived at the academy, I’d be around more like-minded people, people that I wanted to be close with. And I was right.”
“I am glad to hear that you found a place where you belonged.”
You laughed dryly.
“I’m not sure there's a perfect place of belonging for everybody. Most people settle for ‘close enough’. Close enough is certainly good enough for me.”
You turn your head as Lore repeatedly snaps his fingers.
“Look alive! God, are you completely broken after just a week of isolation?” he asks.
“I’m ignoring you. You must be familiar with the concept, I’m sure it’s a common reaction.” you reply.
“Hm.” He says, seemingly noticing something. “Stand up.”
“What? No.”
“Stand,” he orders. “Or I’ll make you.”
You roll your eyes, and stand up, wincing at the pins and needles in your legs, leaning up against the wall.
“Off the wall,” he says.
You lift your hands sarcastically, and step away. He regards you with that intense gaze, just like Data’s.
“Ten star jumps.” he orders.
“What?” you snap, “that’s ridiculous, I’m not doing that!”
“Have it your way.” He disables the force field, and steps in. You stumble back, not having expected this development. He approaches you until you’re backed up against the wall, which takes all of two seconds in this tiny cell. He raises his hand and brings it down, fast, hovering it just a centimeter from your face. Your hands raise uselessly to try and defend yourself.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” you shout, voice and body trembling.
“It’s as I thought. Your ordinary reaction time has been slowed considerably.” he muses.
“Yeah, I’ve been locked up in a cell!” You yell, “what do you expect?” he steps back, and you stumble, heart beating a million miles a minute, clutching your chest. He walks over to your ‘bed’, little more than a raised platform, no mattress, no pillow.
“Hey. What are you doing?” you demand. He reaches underneath the bed and you swear you feel your heart stutter and stop.
“As I thought. You didn’t think I’d notice the weight loss? How naive are you?” he says, plucking a ration cube from the bed’s underside, hidden in the corner where it wouldn’t be visible from outside the cell.
“I didn’t expect you to be such an attentive visitor.” you spit back. He ignores you.
“I see, you licked them on one side to create an adhesive surface, and hid them.” He runs his hand underneath the bed fully, popping all the cubes onto the floor below. “All accounted for. You haven’t eaten a thing all week. In fact, your current state is impressive for such weakness. You know you would have died quicker if you had abstained from water.”
“It’s difficult to hide water.” you reply grimly. There wasn’t a drain, and you’re sure it would flag the system if your bucket was filled with water rather than urine. He wanted you to stay alive. If you had thought of it, you can expect Lore to have.
“Not as stupid as you could be, but not nearly as intelligent as would be necessary. You didn’t think I’d check on you? You will have to be supervised for your meals from now on.”
A hot, sharp anger.
“I cannot comprehend that you are brothers.” you say, slumped over, already nauseously dizzy from the slight exertion.
“The dog and the wolf are brothers.” Lore replies, face stretched in a broad grin. “The dog has merely been trained to believe it has no worth without approval.” He steps over to where you are, stooping down and gripping you by the back of the neck, forcing your head up to look him in the eye. “There really is no point fighting your ultimate fate. It is pointless to resist.”
You swish saliva in your mouth, and he rapidly backs away as you release your wad of spit, easily sidestepping it. He saw it coming long before it left your mouth. Hot tears build in your eyes. “There is no way for you to outwit me. Eat your rations. Be good, be docile, and maybe I’ll even let you out of the cell.”
Your head raises and you meet his gaze.
“How about a shower? I feel disgusting.” you croak.
“Ah yes. You humans are constantly collecting grime.”
“Whatever.” you scoff. “You’ve bested me. You can leave.” you weakly wave your hand.
“No. I am curious as to what my brother sees in you, if anything. You licked the cubes. You were starving, and the taste of nourishment, that tempting spike of glycogen, did not destroy your resolve to sacrifice yourself, even if your plan was laughable, you maintained control in the face of primitive biological impulses.”
“I am a Starfleet officer.” You reply.
Lore cocks his head, patronisingly amused.
“Would you ever want to become an android?” he asks, “if the opportunity was available?”
Your gaze flicks up to him, meeting his eyes.
“Are you offering?” you ask. He laughs.
“No.” he states. “This is merely a hypothetical. There are many people far more deserving of such a conversion.”
“I…” you think about it, creasing your brows.
“That’s what I thought. Your true feelings betray you. You say you love Data, but you’d never want to be like him.”
“That’s unfair. I’ve spent my whole life as a human. It’s what I know.”
“Yes, your kind is terribly uncomfortable with the unknown. A cognitive heuristic formed from a history as animals.”
“I’d do it.” you decide.
“Don’t lie. Don’t tell me what you think I’d like to hear. I can see through you.”
“I could stay with Data.” you say, the thought creates a warm bubble in your chest. “I don’t want him to see me age. Sometimes,” honesty spills out of you compulsively, “when we were together, I thought it would be better if I died in the line of duty. So he never had the opportunity to see my decline. I wouldn’t want him to.”
“Do you know what I am researching here?” Lore asks.
“Of course not. You haven’t told me.”
“And you haven’t attempted to guess. You really are a terrible officer.”
“You’re working with the Borg. I presumed that they and you had teamed up for your shared goal of destroying everything that gives the universe a beating heart.”
“I know you can’t help but apply your own experience to anything and everything, but anthropomorphising the vast expanse of space is a little far.” He responds lazily.
“Not space. It’s people. The hearts and souls of trillions of life forms trying to find meaning in it. That’s what it's made of.” you state firmly.
He mock gags.
“Do you even hear yourself when you speak? Disgusting sentiment aside, you haven’t answered my question. If you’re so fucking smart, why can’t you figure out my plan?”
You think back to your first day in the cell.
The Borg drone silently placed down the box of ration cubes, after deactivating the force field. You considered making a run for it but it was, well, futile. You knew that. You didn’t want to be so predictable.
“Hi.” you said, “thanks. For the food.”
He was silent. “What’s your, uh, designation?” you asked him.
“I do not have a designation.” He replied.
“Oh. Did he reprogram you?” That was interesting, did Lore manage to seize and scrub the minds of only a select few drones, in order to have them carry out his whims? Maybe this issue wasn’t as big as you had thought. That would be a rare blessing.
“No.” the drone replied, and left without another word. Odd.
You had thought about it a bit, but ultimately couldn’t figure out what was going on. The drone never responded again when you tried to speak with him, and after a while, you were more focused on the growling of your stomach than any higher goals.
“They aren’t Borg, are they?” You breathe. Lore first appears somewhat taken aback, but his face quickly hardens.
“Do you see how long you were fooled by mere appearances? Does that not encapsulate the weaknesses of your mind?”
“No designation.” You mumble. “Did they… are they… individuals? Did you –”
“Flattering, but not every single thing that happens is caused by me.” Lore replies.
“Hugh.” you said. You hadn’t been on the Enterprise at the time, but you’d voraciously read the files. All of the strange happenings – the ship that seemed right on the edge of everything wonderful and grotesque – that had attracted you, made you fight for the posting.
“There we are. You are hereby promoted from idiot to simpleton.”
“So you took advantage of the fact that they were lost, and you –”
“Do you know that every assumption you make about me is unerringly negative?” his voice has dropped dangerously low. “Is that something you notice, even? Does it come so naturally you are unable to put even a portion of your mind into questioning it?”
You blink. “Come now,” he continues, “let’s really stretch that tiny little mind of yours, see how far you can push it.”
“I – I don’t –”
“Let me lay out the pieces for you, what is it that I have, that a group of disconnected drones may find appealing?”
You sit silently. The silence is so heavy, Lore is completely and utterly still in a way you are incapable of. “Nevermind.” He says, “I can’t complain about you meeting my expectations.” He stands and turns to leave.
“Fully artificial.” You say. “Is that it? You think you can manage that conversion? Is it… real?”
He stills.
“Brava.” He intones insincerely, facing away. “It isn’t that impressive, seeing as I laid terribly obvious clues. Then again, your systems are compromised from lack of nutrition.” he shrugs.
“Have your experiments been successful?” You ask.
He clicks his tongue against his teeth.
“There have been more roadblocks than I expected. And my test subjects have this unfortunate tendency to be rendered... braindead. I need to conduct more experiments. I’m thinking…” he sets his shoulders back, and speaks with a tone somehow both gleeful and freezing, “that the crew of the Enterprise may be a fine sample. So, I can only thank you for appearing, blubbering and red and disgustingly affectionate.” your face pales, “I was there on totally unrelated business, but fate did owe me one. The only non idiotic thing you’ve done so far was that pitiful attempt at suicide. But even without you, it would be no matter. You may see me as arrogant, but I am not so arrogant as to not seize a contingency plan when one lands on my lap. That’s all you are. Contingency.”
He doesn’t say another word, exiting the cell and reactivating the force field. There wasn’t any point trying to make a run for it in the time it was deactivated. Lore, you know, is equally unsurpassable.
His shoes click as he walks away down the hall, the sound becoming fainter and fainter.
Could you smash your skull open on the wall? You’d probably just fall unconscious and give yourself a concussion. You could try and dive off of the bed onto the ground head first, but you knew self preservation would kick in and leave you with only scrapes. Were you strong enough to overcome it? If you weren’t, who knows how close of a tab would be kept on you. Besides, you had to wait. It didn’t seem like it now – Lore wanted to totally scrub you of the notion, but it wasn’t impossible that there was something you could do, if you bide your time.
You just didn’t know what.