NEW: but for the grace of god... [R] TNG; Data, Lore; Chapter 2/8, Part 2/2

[mlo...@ic.sunysb.edu]

(but for the grace of god..., chapter 2, part 2 of 2)

"How long before we reach the Yrizren system?" Captain Picard reached
into the replicator bay for his tea.

"Five hours, thirty-nine minutes, sir." Data answered.

"Very well. I want all stations on full alert, we have no idea what to
expect from these people. As soon as possible, I want a level one scan of
the entire system. Make it discrete."

"Aye, sir." Data rose and turned for the door.

"Data." He turned back. Picard sat down heavily at the desk. "Are you
all right?"

Data tilted his head. "Yes, sir, I am fine."

Picard stared into his tea for a moment. "How long have you been having
these dreams?"

"Dreams?"

Picard looked up. "About Lore, and Dr. Soong."

Data took a sudden step backwards and his hand shot out to grab the back
of the chair he had been sitting in. The upholstery tore under his grip.
He said nothing for a moment; when he spoke, his voice was ragged.

"How did you... How could you..."

Picard just watched him.

"No..." he whispered. "That is not possible. All of the implants were
removed, you cannot be hearing my..."

Picard sighed. "I don't think this has anything to do with technology."

"Oh, god. I am sorry."

"It isn't your fault."

"Yes it is!" Data yelled. He flinched and when he spoke again, his voice
was normal. "I let her... let her do that to me."

Picard placed his mug on the desk. "Turn the chip off, Data," he said
quietly. Data jerked his head to the side and his hand relaxed on the
chair. Picard continued, "I don't want..." He shook his head. "No, I
take that back-I would like to relieve you, because you're obviously in a
great deal of pain. But I need you. And I need you here. If we say the
wrong thing to the Yrizren-"

"There will be war." Data interrupted softly.

"Quite possibly. I won't order you to keep the chip off, but..."

Data nodded. "I understand, sir." He looked up. "How much did you see?"

"Flashes, images, nothing substantial. I was hoping the connection would
fade, but..."

"It has not."

Picard put a hand over his eyes. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Data moved to the couch and sat down. He stared at the wall. "Do you...
hate me, sir?"

"Of course not! Do you honestly think you would be here now if I did?"

Data looked at him. "You are a better man than that, Captain."

"Oh, for god's sake." Picard shook his head. "I am not that noble, Data.
Quite beyond any other considerations, I have to be able to trust my First
Officer completely." He stood and walked over to sit next to Data. "You
were vulnerable. They found that vulnerability and exploited it. That's
what they do."

Data closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the side. "Was I
wrong, sir?"

Picard sighed and closed his own eyes. "Have you asked Troi?"

"She refuses to give me a definite answer." He paused. "I was hoping
that you might."

Picard opened his eyes and found Data watching him. "I think you used
poor judgment. And, yes, Data, there is a difference." He laughed. "I'm
hardly the person to ask, I was rather acutely entangled in my own bout of
poor judgment at the time." Data was silent. Picard stared at him for a
moment and then turned his head. He watched the feathery movement of his
fish across the room. "You said that you had only wavered for--"

"0.68 seconds. Yes, sir."

"Was that..."

"The truth?" Picard nodded and continued to stare at the fish.

"Yes. For that length of time, I had completely blanked out all thought
but that of being with her." He moved slightly and Picard glanced down to
see him stroking his arm where the graft had been. "After that, I was
angry enough that I only thought of using her the way she had used me. I
was confused and receiving a great deal of emotional interference, not
only from myself, but also from the rest of the collective." He paused.
"And from you, sir," he added quietly.

Picard looked up and Data smiled.

"The connection only lasted while she was alive, Captain." He gave a
small shrug. "In the end, everything about me has to do with technology."
He sighed faintly and looked back to the wall. "But I never stopped...
loving her. If I had been stronger, if I had resisted, I can only think
that I might have acted sooner and a few hundred people that are now dead
would still be alive."

Picard gave a sour smile. "Ah, yes. If I had been stronger, Wolf 359
might never have occurred." Picard stood and walked over to pick up his
mug of tea. He sat down on the edge of the desk. "And Lore?"

Data looked over to him, then glanced down to his hands. He said nothing.

"I take it this has something to do with him?"

Data shrugged again. "He has been in my dreams. Why, I do not know."

Picard watched him. "Do you regret his death, Data?"

Data's eyes closed and his head twitched to the side. He was still
touching his arm. He spoke finally, in a slightly unsteady voice.
"Fratricide is not a pleasant word, Captain."

Picard turned his head away, placing the mug back on the desk. The sound
of glass on glass was loud in the room. "The appellation of 'brother' was
a conceit, nothing more. You did what you had to do."

"Did I?"

"Yes," Picard answered, louder than he had intended. He shook his head
again. "There was no other option."

"A disrupter setting of full-stun would have incapacitated him, without
permanently damaging his internal systems." He looked up. "I fired with
a setting of full disruption effect."

Picard spoke quickly. "That was the weapon he had tried to use on you.
That setting--"

Data interrupted, his voice dull. "The weapon was set to disintegrate
when Lore turned it on me. I changed the setting--I wanted the chip." He
stood and walked to the viewport. "At the time, I was still under the
influence of his emotional ministrations. I am sure you remember what
those emotions were. I do not believe that anger or even hatred are
sufficient terms to describe what I was feeling. Fury, loathing,
despair...my ethical programming was operating in full force, I was in
turmoil. I managed to rationalize my decision easily enough: He was
dangerous, deadly, there was no way to repair his malfunctions. I proved
to myself that the appellation of 'brother' was indeed a conceit, that I
owed nothing to him. But in the end, it was revenge; he had tried to
take everything I had built for myself, to turn me against my own family.
And I saw in him everything that I feared in myself." He stopped and
waited.

Picard spoke softly into the silence. "Data, you were in emotional chaos
with no experience to guide you; you can't hold yourself responsible for
decisions made in that state."

Data shook his head and turned around. He looked right into Picard's
eyes. "He stopped transmitting before I fired. It was not out of
passion, Captain, I was not beyond control. The anger and hatred
dissipated; all that remained was distaste. I chose to fire on that
setting, I overrode my ethical programming to do so. In effect, I broke
my own rules. I killed my brother, and there are no excuses for me to
hide behind."

"He was not your brother," Picard repeated, feeling helpless.

Data smiled. "Because that was a conceit? Because we were built and not
born? What property would have given the relationship legitimacy? A birth
certificate? A shared childhood? Love?" He paused and looked away from
Picard again. "His last words were 'I love you, Brother.' A sentiment I
never returned." He turned back. "You are correct, we were not brothers.
Twice I was given the opportunity to change that fact, and twice I turned
away. Once, out of pride; once, out of anger."

"He never reached out to you, either," Picard said gently.

Data shrugged. "So the gulf extended from both sides? Quite possibly. I
find that fact to be of little comfort, however." He made a slight
gesture with his hand. "As to what I feel... I am empty. I might know
how to cope with that sensation, if I could even compare it to having no
emotions at all. But there is no comparison. Possessing images and being
unable to feel their significance; possessing images and being unwilling
to feel their significance-there are worlds of difference between the two,
Captain."

Picard nodded.

"I am sorry, sir. The last thing I would ever wish to do is to... deposit
my personal angst on you."

Picard smiled. "I did ask. Besides, Data..." He hesitated but then
pushed on. "I am your friend before I am your Captain." Data's eyebrows
jumped and Picard added quickly, "Don't abuse the privilege."

Data laughed. "Aye, sir." He walked to the desk. "As for the other
issue, I will keep the chip off and refrain from activating the dream
program, sir."

Picard nodded. "For the moment, at least. We'll have to find a long term
solution."

"Yes, sir." Data headed for the door, but Picard called him back again.

"Data." He hesitated. "I promised myself that I wouldn't ask you this."

Data's brow contracted. "Sir?"

Picard turned away from him. "During our little scene with the Queen, how
much..." He turned back. "How much of that was acting?"

Data watched him for a moment, looking confused. Then he smiled and shook
his head. "Captain, you do not really think..." He laughed. "You would
make a terrible drone, sir."

*****

The mission went well. The lost ship was discovered marooned on a small
moon at the border of Yrizren territory. The Yrizren leader was vehement
in his disavowal of any involvement. Captain Picard merely smiled at the
man's growls that the Federation was attempting to drag them into an armed
conflict. He suggested lightly that the politics of the Yrizren system
were of little interest to his superiors, particularly when relations with
the Cardassians were improving. The bloated man's purple complexion
turned several shades darker, and he spat at the viewscreen.

"We will not be pinned into the demilitarized zone, Captain Picard!"

"Then I suggest that you protect the passage of ships from both sides,
Premier. You cannot afford to fight us both." He ordered tactical to cut
communications and glanced back to Troi.

"Well?"

She nodded. "He was frightened, sir. He believed you meant it."

"Excellent." He turned to Data. "See that Gul Talik receives a record of
that, Number One. I'm sure he'll find it interesting."

"Aye, sir. The transport ship is standing by for our escort, sir."

Picard nodded. "Make it so, Commander."
-----

The rest of the shift was uneventful and Data headed for his quarters at
the end of it with nothing more pressing on his mind than which supplement
to offer his cat. Then he heard Troi's voice from far down the corridor
behind him and quickened his pace.

"Data," she called.

He sighed and waited for her to catch up to him. "Yes, Counselor?" he
said when she had.

She put a hand on his arm. "You can't keep running away from it."

"I am not running away from it, I am running away from you."

She frowned. "You have to face this."

"And how would you suggest I do that, Deanna? Shall I make a general
announcement to the crew? My apologies, everyone, but while you were
fighting the Borg, I was having sex with their leader. Or whatever it is
that she really was." He pulled his arm away from her. "Forgive me,
Counselor, that solution did not occur to me." He turned and walked on to
his quarters, leaving her in the hallway.

When the door chimed, he was sitting on the floor, watching Spot gobble
her food.

"Come in, Deanna."

She walked in and looked at him with surprise.

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Penance." He paused. "I am sorry."

She sat down on the sofa. "Would you like to talk?"

He laughed and shook his head. "You are going to make me talk whether I
wish it or not." He got up and walked over to sit at his desk. He looked
at her and waited.

"Why did you turn it off?"

"Orders."

She took a deep breath. "Orders from Picard?"

He nodded and then gave her a small smile. "Well, not orders, per se.
Call it a strongly couched request."

She tilted her head. "Why?"

"He can sense my thoughts."

"What?"

"We were both a part of the collective. Some fragment of that connection
remains."

She closed her eyes for a moment and frowned, looking completely
exasperated. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

He shrugged. "I did not know it. The connection is apparently
unidirectional. Thankfully."

She sighed. "Can you keep the chip off indefinitely?"

He nodded. "There should not be any physical effects. I have no idea
what the emotional result will be, but..." He shook his head. "It is not
a solution, I realize that. But what else can I do? I have run out of
options. It has been over six weeks since we returned and... the feelings
have not diminished."

"And when the chip is off? Do you still... miss her?"

"The emotions are there. They are simply... separated from my reactions."
He watched her for a beat and then spoke in a monotone. "If you feel that
I am unfit, then relieve me."

"Is that what you want?"

"No... It is childish, I know. I would like to think that I am more
mature than that, but..."

"Can you do your job?"

"Yes." She watched him, patently worried. "Let it go, Deanna. I will
always...miss her, and... I will never forgive myself for doing so." He
sighed. "But time will pass, and the wounds will heal."
"And the chip?"

"I will leave it off." She drew breath to speak and he added quickly,
"For now."

She watched him for a long moment. Finally, she nodded her assent.

*****

And time passed. Gradually, in the absence of the chip's sensations, his
thoughts began to settle, and the overwhelming need became a dull ache,
buried somewhere beneath his consciousness. He worked as much as Picard
would allow, often through all three shifts, and pursued his other
interests with an almost farcical enthusiasm.

When Jenna reminded him of their dinner date several weeks later, he
hesitated. He knew she was sensitive and he did not wish to reenact the
aborted affair of five years before. But even without the chip's
responses, he was not the same person he had been then. And she was
beautiful.

So he agreed to see her, resolving to move slowly. From the first moment
he felt the need begin to grow, he pushed his thoughts away. He refused
to acknowledge the responses that had emerged. Responses that should have
remained dormant.

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