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Data shifted his attention between the console in front of him and the small silver dot on the main screen. It was growing at the expected rate as it broke through the atmosphere and sought reclamation by the Enterprise.
Even then, Data could not put his finger on why Lore had decided to take a shuttlecraft instead of beaming down like Lieutenant Worf. They had been able to spend more time together as of late, but much of his behavior continued to perplex him. If Data had to posit a guess as to Lore’s motive, it would possibly come down to a desire for independence. Life aboard the Enterprise was far more controlled than life had been on Lore’s lonesome, and they were still in the midst of a serious adjustment period. Data would not remind Lore that he ultimately had no more ownership of the shuttlecraft than he did of the transporter.
Knowing what he did about his brother’s personality, as little as that seemed to be, Data expected Lore to pilot the shuttlecraft through at least one ostentatious maneuver while they were in plain sight on the main viewer. When that did not happen, it was such a surprise that Data blinked an entire tenth of a second prematurely.
Lieutenant Worf had already returned to the bridge. As independent as it may have made Lore feel, his chosen transportation method was not very fast.
“Shuttlecraft Three has returned safely to Shuttlebay Two.” At the end of Worf’s announcement, Data rose from his chair and turned to their captain.
“Sir, permission to attend to my brothers in Shuttlebay Two.”
“Of course, Mr. Data. Give them my regards.” Since his very first day aboard the Enterprise, Data had appreciated his captain’s compassion and understanding. Now that both of his brothers were onboard, his appreciation had increased tenfold.
The walk was short, but Data’s processing speed allowed him to experience thousands of thoughts as he stood in the turbolift and then made his way through the hallways towards Shuttlebay Two. Most of all, his thoughts were consumed by anticipation at hearing how the visit had gone. B-4 had been restless with excitement when he had seen them off hours earlier, and while Data could not predict how many details B-4 would remember of their trip, he always seemed to hold onto emotional experiences if not specific memories. He often returned from his time with Lore with a nearly exaggerated, jubilant smile, the image of which came to the front of Data’s awareness. Data would not mind adding another occurrence of such an expression to his memory banks.
Lore was similarly affected by the time they spent together, wearing much wider and more genuine smiles when they returned from their outings. Data had almost managed to get over his brother’s audacity due to the frequency of his exposure, but the trips often happened as a result of Lore’s direct demands to Captain Picard. For whatever reason, Lore had decided that the Holodeck was not good enough for him or B-4, and preferred the unrestricted opportunity to visit whatever planet or starbase the Enterprise was closest to at any given moment. Lore was following his mandate to regularly attend sessions with Counselor Troi, and so Data could only figure that the captain was tolerating his petulance to reward him for good behavior, and to avoid setting him off.
But while Lore’s memory was perfect, Data could not get him to recount many details of their trips together, either. He always looked at him, tight lipped, almost as if he was offended by the very question. Then he’d clasp B-4’s shoulder and go back to smiling.
As Data turned a corner and approached Shuttlebay Two, he came across his brothers much sooner than he anticipated. In fact, he caught only a glimpse of them as they disappeared around the corner on the opposite end of the hallway. Since they had agreed to rendezvous in the shuttlebay, it was quite unusual indeed.
As Data drew closer to the shuttlebay doors, he caught sight of a trail of footprints that led in the very direction his brothers disappeared in. The footprints consisted of a dark brown, tacky substance that Data could not identify on sight alone. The unmistakable conclusion was that something had happened, and that Lore was avoiding him. Data doubled his pursuit.
Data tracked them down with incredible ease. If it had been Lore on his own, he may have been able to give him a run for his money. But with B-4, options were limited, and Data found them right around the corner.
Lore did not appear happy to see him. And Data was not the most cheerful to see the state they were in, either. Whatever the brown substance was, Lore was covered in it, in addition to clumps of fur and unidentifiable organic materials. If Data had been capable of connecting a physiological reaction to an olfactory experience, he would have retched. Instead, his positronic brain and heightened senses immediately analyzed the properties of the smell and linked it to Klingon targs: Specifically, targs for slaughter.
Lore was in a sorry enough state, but B-4’s condition was almost enough to wrench Data’s nonexistent heartstrings. B-4 held what remained of his right arm close to his body, while his clothing was in shreds. It appeared as though something had torn away as much of his limb as it could, leaving only a jagged elbow joint and intact upper arm. His expression was placid, but Data was learning something new about his brother today. Dr. Soong had cared enough to build him with tear ducts, evidenced by the moisture around his eyes and on his cheeks.
“What happened?”
“I am injured.” B-4 provided him with an answer, however obvious an answer it was. But B-4 was not the intended recipient of the question.
“What happened, Lore?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You know as well as I that our memory is infallible.”
To that, Lore scowled. Where the brown substance was thin enough to dry on his face, cracks appeared as his expression contorted. “They weren’t domesticated, and he wanted to pet them. Would you like me to relay the sound his servos made as they scraped across the animal’s teeth, or the snapping of his myomer fibers in its jaws, or how it all disappeared down its filthy gullet?”
Lore’s description, while venomous, was quite useful. Even still, Data found his own throat reflexively contracting. The information Lore provided was satisfactory. Evidently, neither of them wanted to dwell on the grisly details.
“No.”
“Then we have nothing more to discuss.”
“I see. Data to La Forge.” Data tapped his combadge and waited for the response. It came with plenty of time left to process the dirty glare Lore gave him.
“La Forge here.”
“B-4 is injured. We require your assistance.”
“Bring him to Engineering. I’ll take a look.”
“Thank you, Geordi.”
The moment the comlink closed, Lore spoke up. He had been kind enough not to interject while Geordi was on the line. “I don’t need La Forge’s help. I reassembled B-4 myself after I discovered his parts discarded in our father’s garbage, and I can do it again.”
Lore’s reaction was obviously rooted in pride. Data was not inclined to trust him when he allowed such an injury to occur in the first place.
“Geordi’s skill and the facilities available in Engineering are best suited to repairing an injury of this magnitude. You may assist if you wish.” With that, Data set a guiding hand on B-4’s shoulder. “This way.”
“Where are we going?”
“We are going to Engineering. Lieutenant Commander La Forge will repair your arm.” B-4 made no protest, but he did turn and look back at Lore. With minimal nudging, he faced forward again and they went on their way.
Very soon after they began advancing down the hallway, Data detected an unusual sound coming from where Lore was trailing behind them. He turned and took note of a small satchel that Lore carried at his side. It was one he had seen before, that Lore had brought on other outings in case B-4 desired to take home souvenirs. It was empty when they had left, but now it was the source of the strange noise. Data’s curiosity was piqued. “What is in your bag?”
“Did you expect me to leave his components behind in that beast’s stomach?”
“They will need to be disinfected.”
The rest of the walk was silent, as Lore stared daggers into Data’s back.
When they arrived in Engineering, Geordi had already set up a chair and gathered the appropriate tools and equipment. It was the middle of a shift, so lower ranking engineers continued to toil away around them.
“Didn’t go so well, huh?” Geordi attempted to lighten the mood. Data had told him that morning that B-4 and Lore were planning a visit to Qo’noS while the Enterprise was in orbit facilitating important business by Lieutenant Worf. But Geordi’s comment only deepened Lore’s anger, and justified him in keeping his distance and carelessly trifling with the surrounding operations. He even went so far as to pick up and toss a sequencer that a lieutenant was actively using, but had set down for a moment.
Data was relieved to be in Geordi’s company. He trusted him with his brother’s care, and he was a source of comfort in the wild ride that had been managing life with B-4 and Lore onboard. Data guided B-4 into the chair, and then scanned the room for where Lore had gone. He was not far, but he was certainly making chaos. Data chose to ignore his behavior rather than adding fuel to the fire.
However, there was still business to attend to which required his cooperation, if only for a moment. “Lore, we will need B-4’s parts.”
Without looking, Lore tossed the satchel at Data’s head. Luckily, their reflexes were equally matched, and Data caught it.
“What seems to be the problem?” The problem was quite obvious. But Geordi struck up a conversation with B-4 regardless. He liked his company, as so many on the Enterprise who had met him did. He may not have been as complex as his brothers, but sometimes that was a good thing. He saw the world in a way that Geordi, for one, admired.
“I am injured.”
“I can see that, buddy. We’ll get you fixed up.” While Data took the satchel of B-4’s components to be decontaminated, Geordi scanned him with several instruments, all of which confirmed that he was unharmed aside from his missing forearm.
“Why do you not have any eyes?” B-4 crouched in the chair, attempting to align Geordi’s face with his own. When Geordi moved, looking up from his scanner, B-4 did as well.
“Wanna know a secret?”
“What?”
“I do have eyes, but I have to keep them hidden behind my VISOR so I don’t hurt anyone with my laser vision.” Lying to B-4 was never Data’s own preference, but he could always tell that Geordi did it in good fun. Freely joking around was how he treated most people he cared about and respected.
“Do not touch that.” Data grabbed Lore’s hand only a millimeter short of starting the sequence to eject the warp core. He had done it blatantly in front of Data’s eyes, intending to be caught.
“Shut up.” Lore twirled around, and found another section of Engineering to disrupt.
“Did you have any fun, at least?” Having finished his scans, Geordi now had B-4’s upper arm in his hands as he physically assessed the damage, particularly his massacred elbow joint. What remained of B-4’s sleeve was rolled up to his shoulder.
“I do not remember.” B-4’s gaze was wandering now, dazzled by all the many bright lights emitted by the sensors and displays around them. Engineering was not a place he had spent much time, and the warp core itself was especially mesmerizing. Data then returned with B-4’s detached and fragmented forearm, now cleared of both physical matter like fur and blood, and pathogens that may not be capable of giving B-4 an infection, but would be capable of making Geordi sick. B-4’s eyes then settled on Lore, who had just snapped an ensign’s decoupler in half. “I was eaten.”
Data unwittingly cringed. B-4, to his understanding, had limited storage capabilities. If he had stored the memory of being attacked by a targ, Data could only imagine what he’d had to let go of to make the space available. Whatever it was, it was bound to have been a more positive experience than what happened on Qo’noS. Truthfully, B-4 was unaffected, but the loss to Data was profound.
“That has to put it in your bottom ten outings with Lore, huh?” Hearing his name in Geordi’s mouth, Lore kicked a hole into the bottom compartment of a display panel. It flickered and sparked, and Data noted that he was lucky not to be damaged by the surge of plasma energy.
“Lore…saved me.” The words were slow to come out of B-4’s mouth, but they were sure. Lore looked over his shoulder, and met his brother’s eyes. They shared a smile.
“Yes. I only regret that you were put in such a position as to need saving in the first place.” Data passed B-4’s parts to Geordi, who cringed at their condition. Data knew that by commenting, he would be instigating an argument. But, he made a thorough assessment of the situation and decided that his thoughts were worth being said. His resolve and intellect were strong enough to keep him from descending into a senseless quarrel.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Lore snapped around.
“I do not understand how you could have allowed this to happen. When you said you wanted to visit Qo’noS to see the targs, the implication was that they would be domesticated and safe to interact with.”
“Domestication implies ownership by Klingons. We weren’t going to pet Klingons.”
“If that is your association, then you should have accompanied Lieutenant Worf. He could have directed you to the proper channels for interacting with the local fauna.” That was where, logically, Data should have paused and allowed Lore to quip back at him. Instead, he continued, “I do not even necessarily agree with how you handled the situation once it became a crisis.”
“What would you have had me do?”
“There were numerous alternative courses of action available to you. You could have beamed up immediately after the damage was done, instead of subjecting B-4 to the strenuous and extended shuttlecraft ride. You could have come to me immediately after returning to the Enterprise, instead of attempting to hide what had occurred. You could have—” Data stopped at once, having looked over and recognized the glint in Lore’s eyes. He was seething. He remained covered in targ entrails, and Data came to the realization that his criticisms were not helpful. What was done was done. But it was too late.
Lore spat a tooth that was not his own onto the floor of Engineering.
“Oh, yeah. This’ll take about thirty minutes. Can you stand my company for that long, B-4?” Geordi separated his interactions with B-4 from the obvious tension between Data and Lore. B-4 was dealing with enough without having to juggle his brothers’ conflict.
“It is my arm that is injured.” B-4’s response demonstrated his understanding of Geordi’s comment. Of course he could stand. It was his arm, not his leg, that was hurt. Geordi connected the dots and laughed.
On his way out, Lore snatched his empty satchel and punched a hole through an additional two consoles.
Data knew Lore had retreated to his quarters. He hadn’t yet found anywhere else aboard the Enterprise where he felt any sense of control. Even still, by the third ping, Lore had still not answered the door. The worst thing Data could do now would be to give up and walk away, and so he waited patiently, renewing his ping every sixty seconds precisely. For two androids, that was a lifetime.
Finally, the door slid open.
One thing that had become obvious about Lore was his desire to be elevated in relation to everyone else in the room. For that reason, his quarters were customized with a cubby hole suspended at ceiling height that was big enough for Lore to sit in. Currently, he was not sitting but lying on his side, with his back facing the room. Data noted the distinct absence of any scent of targ, and concluded that Lore had used the sonic shower and changed his clothing.
B-4 split his time between Data’s quarters and Lore’s, and evidence of him was also strewn across the room. They had not been able to pair B-4 with a pet of his own, and so he had discovered a deep interest in greenery of all sorts, and had numerous potted plants between the two rooms. Data helped him to care for the ones in his room, but as far as he knew, Lore did not do the same. It did not seem to matter, since the plants in both rooms appeared to be equally healthy. Aside from plants, other comforts of B-4’s were present, including plush blankets—wholly unnecessary for an android, but further surrogates for his lack of a furry animal companion.
Data knew which approach would be best in engaging Lore in conversation.
“I could not have done what you did.”
Lore’s movement was nearly imperceptible, but Data’s senses were better than the average human’s. Lore had heard him.
“If you had not retrieved B-4’s ingested components, through any means necessary, he would have been left without a hand for an extended period of time.”
“I would have given him my own if I had to.”
The answer managed to subvert Data’s expectations. He would never have expected Lore to be willing to make such a sacrifice, for anyone. Even still, Data attempted to understand.
“Yes. You care deeply for him.”
“I love him,” In one fluid movement, Lore twisted around and jumped down from the cubby, landing solidly on his feet, “—something you couldn’t understand.”
“I suppose not.”
“He’s smarter than you, in a lot of ways.”
“Our intelligence is matched, Lore. If he is smarter than me, then he is smarter than you as well.” Data had no idea why he had needed to make that comment so desperately. Whatever the reason, it was eerily similar to the irrationality with which he had escalated their argument in Engineering.
“Oh, no. He’s smarter than you, Data. He knows what love is.”
“How is that possible?”
“If you would ever take the time with him, you would understand how it’s possible.”
“You are aware that he shares his time equally between the two of us.”
“But you don’t talk to him. He comes to your quarters and he plays with Spot, and waters his plants. You sit at your desk and ignore him.”
“That is not true. I speak to him about properly caring for his plants and respecting when Spot no longer desires his attention.”
Lore’s hands found his hips, and he shook his head with incredulity. “Do you hear yourself? Or do you refuse to listen to yourself like you refuse to listen to B-4 and like you refuse to listen to me?”
“I do not understand.”
“Good! At least you’ve come to admit it!” Lore became excited. He pointed a slender finger at Data and continued, “When was the last time you went with us on any of our trips? Even when you are not on duty, you always find an excuse. ‘I have a previous engagement. I have a previous engagement. I have a previous engagement.’” Lore matched Data’s inflection with perfect accuracy. Data’s own memory even brought up the specific instances when he had spoken those words. They were all on separate occasions. “I’m surprised that B-4 wants to spend any time with you at all. If it weren’t for Spot, I don’t know that he would.”
Data had the distinct impression that Lore was going for his artificial jugular.
“He is my brother as much as he is yours. Why has he not said any of this to me?”
“Because you’re exactly like our father.”
“B-4 does not remember Dr. Soong.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Again. He doesn’t remember his face or his words, but he remembers how he made him feel.”
“I see.” Data held conflicting conceptions simultaneously. On the one hand, Lore had a predictable history of lying and manipulating him into feeling guilt for things that were not his fault. On the other, what he was saying was making sense. He spent less than ten minutes actually conversing with B-4 to every eight hours that they spent together. Data had assumed that B-4 was not interested in or capable of extended conversation. It was possible that was an erroneous assumption. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”
“You’re welcome.” A prideful smile spread across Lore’s lips, and he raised his chin in a clear expression of feeling quite superior to Data in those moments. But then he did something Data would not have expected—Data was beginning to think that his expectations of his brothers were generally not very sound—and he continued on, “If you want to fix it, a place to start would be showing him how to paint like you do. He has told me about the pictures in your quarters and he wants to know how the colorful substance starts wet and then solidifies. It sounds like a messy and pointless activity, so I have told him to forget it every time he asks me to do it with him.”
Lore preached the complete ineffectiveness of his sessions with Counselor Troi at changing any aspect of his psyche at every chance he got. Yet, he was displaying a level of maturity that Data had not seen in him before.
“I will seriously consider your suggestion, brother. Thank you.”
Lore was about to betray his moment of emotional intelligence and throw it back in his face that Data had thanked him twice in one minute, when the door pinged.
“Enter.”
The door slid open, and there stood B-4 and Worf. B-4 was rhythmically opening and closing his now reattached and functioning hand, smiling with fascination and satisfaction.
“He is lucky to be alive.” Evidently, Worf had heard about their run in with the targs.
“I would tear every targ on that planet into pieces the size of atoms if it would keep B-4 safe.”
Luck had nothing to do with it.
Data couldn’t say, even then, that he completely agreed with Lore’s methods. But the fervor with which he protected and guided their brother was something to be admired. Data had much to learn from them, if he was willing to take the time to listen.