NEW: but for the grace of god... [R] TNG; Data, Lore; Chapter 5/8

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

RATING: R, for adult themes, profanity (Chapter 3: NC-17, for sex and
violence)

DISCLAIMER:
These characters, their ship, and their universe belong lock, stock and
barrel to PARAMOUNT-VIACOM. I am bending them to my will for fun only,
not profit (unless you consider the release of writer's angst to be
profit.)

Please see intro for the rest of the stuff.

Please keep headers intact.
*****

but for the grace of god...
by Melinda Loges

Chapter Five: There... Go I

'Breathe, breathe in the air
Don't be afraid to care
Leave but don't leave me
Look around and choose your own ground
For long you live and high you fly
And smiles you'll give and tears you'll cry
And all you touch and all you see
Is all your life will ever be'

"Breathe in the Air"
Pink Floyd

"So, we have four weeks to complete the survey. Starfleet command
apparently believes that in light of the recent rekindling of relations
with the Klingons, we should take our time and make our presence felt in
the area."

Data smiled at the dry note in the Captain's voice. "I take it you do not
agree with that attitude, sir?"

Picard snorted. "Gowron has made it quite clear that he doesn't wish to
feel my presence anywhere, much less this close to the Empire's territory.
The joys of politics."

"You do not enjoy the politics?" Data asked, still smiling.

"When did I ever?"

Data raised his brows. Picard gave him a rigid glance in response.

"That's insubordination, Commander."

Data laughed. "Yes, sir."

Picard shook his head and laughed himself. "Will there be any problems
with the sensor allocations?"

"No, sir."

"How did you manage that?"

Data shrugged. "I had them flip a coin."

"Apposite thinking, Number One." He leaned back in his chair. "So, do we
have anything else to discuss?"

"I am giving a concert next week."

"Violin? Or oboe?"

Data shook his head. "Neither. The trombone."

"The trombone?" Picard laughed. "Following in Will's footsteps, are we?"

"Not willingly. It was a gift from Counselor Troi and Doctor Crusher at
my last birthday. They said there certain 'traditions' attendant with my
position that I must fulfill."

"Traditions?"

Data made a face and quoted, "'Every Executive Officer that's served on
board the _Enterprise_ under Jean-Luc Picard has played the trombone.'"
He smirked. "They did not leave me any room to maneuver."

Picard smiled. "Are you any good?"

"Better than Will. But please do not tell him I said that."

The intercom interrupted Picard's laughter. "Lieutenant Tressene to
Commander Data."

"Data here."

"There is a priority coded message coming in for you, sir. From the
Daystrom Annex. Commander Bruce Maddox."

Data felt himself jump slightly in his chair. His eyes met Picard's.

"Put it through to the ready room, Lieutenant," Picard said, pushing his
monitor to Data's side of the desk. He stood and walked over to the
replicator as Data entered his authorization code. The computer beeped in
acknowledgment and the screen resolved. It was not Maddox, but a young
officer, looking somewhat disoriented.

"Ah... Commander Data?"

"Yes, this is Data."

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm Lieutenant Jestin Coelo." The face grinned at the
screen. "I didn't realize you looked so much like him."

A torrent of conflicting thoughts coursed through Data's senses; his hand
curled. "Your message, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir. Commander Maddox's team has managed to reactivate the android
known as Lore, sir."

Data closed his eyes for a brief moment. "And his status?"

"Well, sir, he's operational. We've had a problem bringing his memory
core on-line, though. At the moment, he can't access his memory files,
either for retrieval or for storage. We're working on the problem, sir,
and should have some progress to report soon."

"How long has he been operational?"

"A week now, sir. Commander Maddox thought you'd like to know."

"Yes, I am sure he did. You may inform him that I will be there as soon
as I am able."

"Sir? You're coming here?"

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"

"Ah, no sir, of course not. I'll tell him."

Data closed the connection. He looked up at Picard. "Request a leave of
absence, Captain."

Picard watched him for a moment and then touched his communicator.

"Bridge, set course for the Galor system. Warp eight." He looked back to
Data. "The survey can wait, Commander."

*****

He was standing on a raised platform within a scaffold of diagnostic
computer consoles. From an open access panel on the left side of his
scalp, an ODN cable extended to a monitor. Flexible restraints locked
both wrists to his thighs, pinning his arms. His ankles wore similar
cuffs. Solid duranium clamps extended from the sections of the frame to
either side of him and secured his upper arms and chest. From the
platform floor, a clamp anchored the length of cable between his legs. He
was naked.

Data stared for a moment before turning to the technician standing beside
him. "Why is he not clothed?"

"Sir?" The man shrugged. "Easier access."

Data closed his eyes, biting back the words that had formed in his mouth.
He turned abruptly and walked to the platform.

Lore looked up at his approach and gave a hesitant smile. Data flinched.
He recognized the serene, placid face that watched him now. From his
dreams.

"Have I met you?" Lore asked, his voice soft. His eyes wide. "I... you
look familiar."

Data nodded slowly. "Yes... you have." He took a breath. "I am Data. I
am your brother."

Lore tilted his head to the side. "My brother?" He blinked and looked
startled as a small stream of tears escaped his eyes to roll down his
face. He looked down and watched them splatter onto his chest. His head
shook slightly.

"Why... what is the fluid?"

Data watched him, barely holding onto the well behind his own eyes. "They
are called tears," he said gently.

Lore looked up to him. "What do they mean?"

"They indicate pain... or grief." He put a hand to Lore's cheek and wiped
them away. Lore's eyes slid down to watch his movement; and then a shadow
passed through them. Data watched the comprehension die in his brother's
face as the data from the previous moments was lost. His hand shook
violently as he pulled it away.

Lore looked back to him, vacant and dumb. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

Data turned away. "Show me the test results," he said to the technician,
his voice tight. "All of them."

*****

"Commander Maddox."

Maddox looked up from his desk and smiled. "Data! It's good to see you
again."

"What are you doing?"

"What?"

Data walked up to the desk. "Did you think I would not see it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"There is nothing wrong with his memory core. The transmission circuits
have been removed. Why?"

Maddox turned his head and glanced over a pile of schematic models on the
desk. "Those circuits were damaged in the phaser blast. They had to be
removed."

"I fired on his chest, not his head." Data stared at him. "And perhaps
you can explain to me how a specific series of circuits could be damaged
while the rest of his core remains intact. Explain that to me,
Commander."

Maddox looked up. "What are you suggesting?"

"I am suggesting that you have deliberately refrained from bringing his
memory core on-line. And I am asking you why."

Maddox watched him for a moment and then shrugged. "He won't need it."

"I see." Data's face went rigid; acid lined his voice. "You plan to use
him as your subject, to further your research. A sacrifice for the
'greater good.'"

He stopped, bitter, entirely disgusted with himself, and glared at Maddox.
He had trusted him, believed that the attitudes of eight years before had
changed. With sudden, brutal recognition, he saw through the trust that
he had offered-unthinking-to everyone in his life. Everyone, but the one
person who might have needed it. His mind grew cold, and the last of his
blinders fell away.

"This was your plan from the beginning," he said. "You never had any
intention of repairing him."

Maddox glared back at him. "What of it?"

"He has rights."

"Bullshit. He isn't you. He isn't the Starfleet golden boy with every
medal in the book hanging around his neck. He's a homicidal maniac with
the blood of over four hundred people on his hands. And he has no
rights."

"This is murder."

"No. This is justice."

"You are not qualified to make that decision. You are not his judge."

"The hell I'm not. I have legal custody over him. You gave it me. And I
will use it as I see fit."

"I will not let you do this. I will go before the Federation council to
stop you."

Maddox laughed. "Go ahead. See what they tell you. You think they want
to deal with him? What are they going to do, put him in prison? He's an
android. He malfunctioned. That's the end of it."

"Property," Data said, his voice hard.

"That's right." Maddox turned back to his computer console. "You should
be happy. By the time I'm finished, he'll be working properly." He
sneered. "Just as you do, Commander."

"And if you fail? What makes you think that your designs will work any
more now than they have in the past?"

Maddox looked up. "I fixed him, didn't I?"

"You got lucky. You do not even know how you did it."

Maddox stared for a moment and then looked back to the console. "I did it
once. I can do it again."

"Your arrogance is truly astounding."

"So is yours. Why the hell do you care what happens to him anyway?"

Data stepped up next to the desk. He placed his hands on the edge and
leaned over it. He spoke slowly, his words sharp. "He is my brother."

"Oh, for Christ's sake." Maddox leaned back in his chair. "That is so
ludicrous. He's not your brother-he's an android. And you're an android;
you're not human."

"No," Data said, stepping back. "I am not human. There are times when I
am grateful I am not."

Maddox laughed. "Insulting me will get you nowhere. You won't stop me,
Data. Not this time."

"We shall see." Data moved to the door. He heard Maddox get to his feet.

"You're wasting your time. They won't listen to you. And even if they
do--" Data stopped. "--by the time they take action, it'll already be
too late for you to save him." He laughed again. "So say your good-byes
on your way out."

Data turned. "Fuck you."
-----

He went straight to his quarters. Slow and deliberate, he made his
arrangements, made his plans. He pushed away the fear and the doubts
crowding him, and existed only in the motions he made.

This was the moment. The future was black to him now; he shut it away
from his mind.

When he had finished, he held Spot tightly to his chest.

He whispered into her fur. "Do not worry, Spot. Jenna will take you.
She will love you. As I do."
-----

And he went to Jenna first.

*****

She was sleeping, a leg nudged into the crack of the sofa, a data padd
resting, precarious, in her hand. He knelt beside her and touched her
cheek.

"Jenna."

She woke and smiled up to him.

"You're back already?" She sat up. "How did it go? Is he O.K.?"

"No." He looked away. "He is in danger here, Jenna."

There was a moment of silence.

"You're leaving," she said quietly, and there was no surprise in her
voice.

He looked back, startled, and she smiled again.

"I can see it. In your eyes."

He closed them. "Jenna, I-"

She put a hand on his mouth. "No. You don't have to explain to me. I
understand." She paused. "No promises, no questions asked."

She stood and urged him up. "And no good-byes." She put her arms around
him. "Just make love to me. I want to remember the feel of you inside
me." She looked up through damp eyes.

"And then I'll let you go."
-----

Geordi was focused on the display panel, busy tweaking the conversion
buffers of the warp engines, when he heard Data speak behind him.

"Geordi." He turned and Data gave him a small smile.

"I understand now," he said softly. "What is was that you felt when the
Hera was lost. Why you had to risk everything to try and find your
mother. I did not see it then--I was distressed that I had helped you."
He walked forward and touched his friend's shoulder. "But I know why now.
You had to do everything--everything that you could do. You had to take
the chance, no matter how small it might have been. No matter what the
cost. Or you could not have lived with yourself."

He stepped back. "There is something for you. On my desk."

He turned and went to the turbolift.

Geordi stared after him, his mouth parted, words abandoned in his mouth.
-----

Picard was immersed in Dixon Hill when the door chimed. He closed the
book over his fingers and looked up.

"Come."

Data stepped into the room. "Sir."

"Is Lore functioning?"

"Yes, sir."

Picard laid the book beside him on the couch. "Well, it seems he's to
have a second chance, after all. I assume you would like to stay here
with him, to oversee the remaining procedures?"

Data looked at him for a moment, then shook his head.

Picard frowned, and pointed to the chair opposite the couch. "Sit down,
Data. Explain yourself."

Data stood unmoving. "I would like to speak off the record, Captain."

Picard was silent; after a long pause, he nodded.

"His memory core seems to be intact. I believe I can restore his systems
to their original configuration."

"'Their original configuration?' Does Commander Maddox concur with your
evaluation?"

"He does not acknowledge it."

Picard moved to the edge of the couch, staring at Data now. He waited.

"Maddox plans to expunge all of his existing programming-to completely
reformat his positronic net." He turned his head to the side. "He wishes
to mold this android according to his own doctrines, for the purposes of
his research."

Picard winced at the gall in his friend's voice. "Data... he might be
better off."

Data turned back to him. "The Federation does not execute criminals."

"This is not an execution, Data."

"Perhaps you do not see it that way, Captain, but I do." He looked aloof,
but his voice wavered on the verge of rancor. And quite suddenly, Picard
knew.

"What will you do?" he said, hoping he was wrong.

"What he does not expect. He believed that I would support his decision.
He would never have informed me at all if he had suspected otherwise. And
now he assumes that I will go through channels. By which time, of course,
it will be too late."

"He told you this?"

"He told me enough."

Picard closed his eyes. "You're going to take Lore."

"Yes."

Picard shook his head. "You can't do that, Data." He got up and started
to his desk. "I'll inform Admiral Nechayev, and--"

Data cut him off. "And what? She will not stop this. She knows very
well what he did. And the council will simply hide in deliberations, and
when it is over, he will be gone. I cannot allow that."

Picard stared at him. "Do you realize the position you are putting me in?
You're asking me to condone an action that is clearly criminal. Not to
mention foolish."

Data turned to face him. "I am not asking you to condone anything. I did
not come here for permission. I came as a courtesy. To a friend." He
paused. "I am leaving, and I am taking him with me."

"I can have you confined to quarters."

Data smiled softly. "You will not do that, sir."

"This is insane, Data!"

Data was silent; he looked down to the floor. After a moment, he spoke,
his voice barely above a whisper.

"Thirty-six years ago, I was abandoned, and left to my fate. And for
thirty-four of those years I did not know it. Two years ago, I learned to
hate my father for leaving me. For casually forcing himself back into my
life twenty-nine years later, without my consent. Without even my
knowledge. For assuming that he had the right to call me to him at any
time of his choosing. For assuming he had the right to question the
choices I had made." He looked up. "I had a lifetime of experience and
training to temper that hatred. And friends all around me prepared to
offer whatever support I needed. But it is not such a wide gap, Captain,
to see across to what I might have done, what I might have become, if I
had not."

He stopped. Picard spoke softly into the silence. "There, but for the
grace of god..."

"...go I." Data stared into his eyes, and Picard could see every thought,
every emotion laid bare to the room. "How do I know, sir? How do any of
us know what we might have done? I can condemn him. I can turn away and
close my eyes and pretend that I do not care. But I cannot escape the
truth that he is the only being in the universe that is what I am. He is
a part of me. A part of my... soul. And I must protect that."

Picard looked away. "You won't be able to come back."

"I know that. I know what I leave behind." He paused. "You said before
that he had been given a second chance. But it is not his chance, it is
mine. I must take it. I must try. I may die in the attempt. But if I
turn away again, then my soul *is* dead, and there is nothing more to live
for." Picard heard him move toward the door.

"If I find out what you're doing, I will be forced to stop you."

"You will not have that chance." He stopped just before the door opened.
His voice was very quiet, but steady. "Of all the beings I have known in
my life, Jean-Luc Picard, I have the most respect for you. I wanted you
to know that. Farewell, Captain."

The door opened and he was gone.

Picard stared into the emptiness.

"May god go with you, my friend."

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