Author's Note: This is my first attempt at TNG; edited, but unbeta'd. Feedback always appreciated.

He had died two weeks ago.

Fourteen days, seven hours, twenty-three minutes had passed since his lumbering idiot of a brother had shot him; fourteen days, seven hours, and twenty-three minutes since he had uttered dying words while his systems entered catastrophic failure.

Or so he had thought.

Lore opened his eyes as consciousness returned abruptly, wrenching him from nothingness as it always did and depositing him firmly in reality. His internal clock announced that he had been offline for two weeks – not bad, considering his track record – while his brain, still in the midst of bringing all his systems back online, played his final words over and over again on an infinite loop.

The best he had been able to come up with was I love you, Brother? He certainly got no points for originality there; must have been damaged worse than he thought.

Memories began to slowly click into place in his half-fried mind.

Space – Borg – cold…so cold - Pakleds - the infuriating man-child…should have killed him on sight – Father – Data – phaser –

Pain.

He took note of his surroundings. It was a pitiful room, really, no longer than the cargo hold on the Pakled trade ship that had plucked him from space three years, nine months, two days ago. They had been intrigued by his parts and kept him locked in the bowels of their ship, recognizing on some fundamental level of their tiny brains that he may try to escape. He won them over with shows of inhuman strength and the ability to fix any mechanical problem put to him. He improved their engines and repaired their replicators. He amused them by constructing little mechanical toys that chimed and clapped and tottered about on tabletops before inevitably falling off.

Just like Father.

And when the time came he blew open the airlock and smashed through the portholes, decompressing the ship in a matter of seconds. He watched them die, blank smiles etched permanently on their faces as though their newest acquisition were playing yet another of his tricks on them and the explanation would be forthcoming. He watched them die and then ran away in their ship.

Just like Father.

There was a man in front of him now, speaking; a man neither particularly tall nor exceptionally short who wore his dark hair parted smartly to one side and clothing that gave no indication of his planet of origin. The man continued to speak, but no sound emerged from his lips. Lore found this perplexing for .32 seconds before a self-diagnostic told him that his auditory system was not yet online.

"Tell me your designation," the man was saying. Lore deciphered that much through lip-reading. The man was speaking Standard and appeared human enough. Designation, though. That was interesting.

Lore opened his mouth to reply – and found that his vocal processors were offline as well.

The man appeared to have noticed this problem at the same moment and strode over to a nearby console, where he manipulated the controls rather rapidly, for a human.

Lore took note of his predicament while the man worked. He was strapped to a slab that stood upright at an almost ninety-degree angle. He had been left mostly in the uniform he'd been wearing when shot, sans the shirt, undoubtedly removed because Data had blasted a hole through it and what android needed a shirt, anyway? The restraints were holding him to the slab were of a metal he could not break free from, try as he might. They secured him to the slab at his wrists, elbows, ankles, knees, and thighs. There was also a particularly thick one that wrapped around his torso, and a final one across his forehead, immobilizing his head. These people, whoever they were, weren't taking any chances.

Lore suddenly found that he was grinning as he tested and retested and analyzed the strength of the restraints. How he enjoyed a challenge.

"Android!" The man was snapping at him. "Answer my questions."

Lore had only been half-listening since his auditory systems came online seconds ago, but then, half-listening was all he really needed to do.

"I think you know perfectly well who I am," he said smoothly. "And if you don't, well –" he dragged his eyes over the man's body, from boots to hairline, "-that's a shame."

The man sputtered, "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Of course I do," Lore snapped, shifting suddenly from smarmy to a businesslike clip. He raised an eyebrow, as if the mere question were beneath him, which of course it was. He'd assimilated the whole of the Enterprise's database his first time aboard the ship and acquired additional information in the intervening years, whenever he chanced upon a lonely trade vessel or frontier outpost. This man's face had appeared prominently in the cybernetics catalog.

As did his father's.

"You're Commander Bruce Maddox. Well," Lore smirked, "former commander. Seems as though things went…downhill for you after the trial. Pity, really. My brother could have used with some discipline." He glanced around the stark room. "It appears you've been allowed to keep your research position at Daystrom – this is Daystrom, isn't it? Yes," he concluded without giving Maddox a chance to answer, "it's Daystrom, all right. So sterile, so Starfleet. No imagination whatsoever"

Maddox couldn't help the question that slipped from his lips. "And what sort of creativity would you propose?"

"Hmm." The corners of Lore's mouth quirked. "For starters, you would be the one all tied up."

"Well, we'll just have to make do like this, I'm afraid," Maddox said, sounding very grateful that he was on that side of the restraints. "Now, do you deny that you are the android Lore?"

"I would never dream of it."

"Mmm," was Maddox's only response. He was at the console, entering data into the computer.

"I assume we are here because you wish to run tests on me." Lore sounded far more excited about that than Maddox was comfortable with. "What experiments will you be conducting? Mental acuity? Speed?" Lore's eyes widened. "Let me out of these restraints and I can show you strength," he whispered. "I can break that pretty little neck of yours in less than a second."

"You were half right." Maddox clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace, slowly, in front of the slab. Close…he was so close. All Lore had to do was reach out a hand, swipe at his face. The force alone would whip his head around so fast the spinal cord would sever. He'd go down with that stupid bewildered expression on his face. Yes… "I left Starfleet voluntarily. They didn't want to give up their best cyberneticist, of course, and offered me a position as Chair of the Department of Cybernetics Research. How could I say no?" He spread his hands; how, indeed? "I knew, one day, that brother of yours was going to slip up. One wrong step, one bad judgment call, and I would have him." He clenched his fists. "I would have him stripped of his pips and status. He would be property, and mine at that. But then," he grinned, "you came along and bumbled your way through that mess with the Borg. He killed you, you know." Maddox laughed. "Your own brother. And then he offered you to me. A gift! A gift for the man who had tried to have him disassembled. And you know what?" Maddox was close now, very close, breath brushing Lore's cheek, whispering, "I think I like you better."

Lore said nothing in response. His eyes didn't even flicker; his chest did not rise and fall in a steady rhythm. This android did not feel a desperate need to emulate humans, did not trail them like a pet, did not mimic their speech and movements to the point of exaggeration. No, this being, this android, this hulk of metal – he was far from the species he had been built to resemble. He had the teeth and the hair and the quick, disarming grin – all of that, and more, much more so than his brother did. He even had the idiosyncrasies of his creators: even now, at this moment of stillness, he was tapping out a senseless rhythm on the cold slab with one long, slender finger.

He was burdened with looking too much like them, acting too much like them, even feeling much like them. "But you're not them," Maddox breathed, pressing a finger against Lore's temple. The android's gold eyes flicked to him, and a thrill shot down Maddox's spine when he realized the android wanted to move, wanted to so desperately just turn his head and look his experimenter- his captor – in the eye. It betrayed itself in the glance, the glance that was supposed to be cool and calculating but which burned with curiosity and loathing just beneath the surface. And he couldn't. Here was the man – no, robot – that not even the Borg could subdue. Here he was, strapped half-naked to this table and he couldn't even move his head. The infamous mass murderer, who kept slipping through the fingers of the Federation, was lying prone and powerless just inches from Bruce fucking Maddox, of all people. He was the only person to ever possess the android in such a vulnerable state; it was exhilarating.

"I'm not like a lot of people." Lore spat the word as though it tasted foul, ending an unusually long silence by human standards (one minute, 7.2 seconds) and bringing Maddox crashing back to reality.

"Aren't you, though?"Maddox said mildly. "I suppose we will see. Computer, remove restraints."

The order came so abruptly and unexpectedly that Lore was caught off guard. The restraints had been supporting him at a slight angle and six inches off the ground; their disappearance caused him to stumble.

"You're mad," Lore said, and coming from him it sounded more like words of praise than an accusation. "I could kill you." He paused a second, considering. "No, I will kill you."

"Wrong again, I'm afraid." Maddox indicated the room with a sweep of his hand. "Pet project of mine. I have some…programs that need testing. And since I can't use Data…well," he gave a small smile, "never mind that. Shall –"

Lore didn't give him time to finish the sentence. He had seen an opening – idiotic man, leaving a phaser lying out on the console, only three feet away but a distance that an android could cross much quicker than a human – and lunged. Maddox pulled something from his pocket, something small and black and no larger than the palm of his hand and leveled it on Lore just as the android's fingers closed over the phaser. Stupid man, did he really think –

There was a high-pitched whine, irritating but brief, and a moment later Lore found himself staring at the ceiling. He scanned his memory files – hadn't he just been upright and reaching for a weapon? – and found that .67 seconds were missing. He sat up abruptly, irritated that he could not recall how exactly he had ended up on the floor but knowing that it had something to do with the infuriating device in Maddox's hand.

"Ah, wonderful." Maddox looked delighted. "I was afraid that was not going to work. I had some issues with it in the test runs, you see – had a habit of setting things on fire. We wouldn't want that now, would we?"

The device – whatever it was – had melted and warped a patch skin on Lore's chest. Lore touched the damaged area, examined his fingers, and said slowly, "I do hope that's not the best you have. It would be a shame to kill you without more of a fight."

Maddox's hand crashed across his face. Lore let his head recoil for show – the blow was barely wroth registering. He swung his head back, grinning now even more wildly than before.

"Like it rough, now, do we?" he purred. "Wonderful."

Maddox fingered the nameless device, running it through his fingers. It was light, so light, and yet so powerful, the result of years of research and development and tests. Lore took a step towards him – shaky, the scientist noted, almost imperceptibly so unless one were looking for it – and Maddox waited until the machine was three feet away…two feet….he squeezed the device again, activating it, and watched as the android stumbled to a halt in his tracks. He had been expecting it this time, Maddox realized, and was trying to fight it. But the weapon took hold of him, paralyzing him, burning him from the inside out. The skin on his face was rippling, warping…wisps of smoke began to rise from the outstretched hand and when the acrid smell reached Maddox's nose he released the button. The android fell woodenly to the ground and did not move, his glassy eyes fixed blankly on the ceiling. Maddox approached him and knelt beside the prone form, counting the seconds. The paralysis would linger, but consciousness should have returned within a second or two, if it had been lost at all.

"This is one of my favorites," he whispered into the pale facsimile of an ear. "Paralyzes you first, and then heats your systems up to the point of overload. I hold it down long enough, and you burn from the inside out. Consciousness is the last thing to go – I can't exactly explain why, but I do think it's a nice effect."

The android let out a grunt; his jaw was working furiously, Maddox could see that much through the fake skin. Muscles were clenching and unclenching, but no other movement was discernible.

"Tell me," he murmured, "what you felt." He drew back into Lore's line of vision and smiled at the face that could not look away. "I know you can feel pain, or at least a poor approximation of it. You also possess a numbing agent that mutes the pain until the malfunction can be repaired. This little beauty," he twirled the device in front of Lore's face, "should have taken that offline. I want you to tell me how that felt. Could you feel the machinery being cooked inside of you? Did you hear the millions of subsystems screaming in your head as each and every one crackled and fried? Do you feel it now, lingering, an awful ache that can't be erased with a simple command?" Maddox smirked and would have continued had a hand not lashed out and seized him by the throat. Lore sat up with all the fluidity of a mousetrap being sprung and held Maddox by the throat, applying just enough pressure to reduce the man to gasps but not enough to kill him. Not yet.

Maddox seized the android's wrist with his free hand and, sputtering, turning red, a vein pulsing in his temple, attempted to ease the pressure on his neck. Lore grinned and was about to say, "Nice try," when the infuriating little weasel of a man swung a leg out from under himself and delivered a blow to the android's torso that sent him reeling and caused him to drop the man.

It shouldn't have.

Maddox clambered to his feet, wheezing, rubbing his neck and laughing while Lore pulled himself up off the floor. It came in short bursts, more gasps than anything else, but it was definitely laughter.

"Your systems are still trying to come back online. They aren't at full strength yet, which means you don't possess the power to do more than stand there and drool."

Lore snatched the phaser off of the console and clenched it in his fist. When he opened his hand, the weapon was still intact.

He could not crush a phaser. A phaser.

"Don't even think about it, android. That weapon's malfunctioning. Fire, and the feedback will damage your systems more than my little device did." Maddox had moved over to the console and was once more tapping the controls, no doubt entering notes about his experiment into the computer. "Now, tin man…what did you feel?" He glanced up when there was no response, but the android was no longer there. Shit. How could he have –

Something glinted in his periphery, and before Maddox could react it had caught him in the side and threw him back up against the console, which cracked under the force. Lore tossed the chair aside and stumbled into his prey, fastening a hand around his neck again and pinning him there.

"Now," Lore wheezed; the weapon had damaged his vocal processors, "how do you want to die?"

Maddox hooked one leg around the back of Lore's knee and, with a hard jerk, sent the android tumbling. He rubbed his neck in irritation – he would have to find a dermal regenerator after work or else field some uncomfortable questions from his wife – and walked over to where the android was lying.

"Let's try this again," Maddox said softly. Lore, propped up on his elbows, was staring up at him with a curiously blank expression. Maddox stepped on his hand, lightly at first, then with ever-increasing pressure until he had placed nearly his entire weight on it. He didn't know why – it had nothing to do with his experiment – and Lore, if he felt it all, did not betray it in his expression. "What did you feel?"

"Nothing," Lore snapped. Maddox shook his head.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you," he said lightly, "that telling lies is wrong?"

He squeezed the weapon once more, felt the hum as it activated and the comfortable warmth that spread through his hand. He applied it only a short while this time, counting backwards in his head – thirty….twenty-nine…twenty-eight… - as the android, weakened, kept his purely inhuman gaze locked on the scientist, eyes wide and glowing a stunning yellow as opposed to their usual deep gold. There was literally fire in his eyes.

Maddox reached zero and released the device. "It would be in your best interests to answer my questions, android," Maddox said mildly. "The more information I get out of you, the less I have to use this." He dangled the device again.

Lore was getting to his feet, slowly this time, much slower than before. He rolled over onto all fours; placed one foot flat on the floor, braced himself on his knee and pushed himself up. The movements were quick but no longer fluid. He moved like an old man.

He moved like a human.

The android stood there, glowering, hands clenched and body tense. He didn't possess the strength to attack and no one knew that better than Maddox. The scientist set the device down on the console and strode over to his weakened subject. They were the same height, he noted,; he and this piece of machinery.

"You're wondering what I've done to you," the scientist said quietly. He moved in a wide circle around the android, examining him. Only slight damage to the outer frame, it appeared. Nothing irreparable. "I have brought you down to our level. You look like a human; now you possess all the strength of one, and no more. This is all in theory, of course. I shall have to test it out."

Lore saw the blow coming and tried to react; his internal systems were still affecting repairs and moving his head half an inch back was the best he could manage. Maddox connected solidly with t he underside of his jaw; his neck snapped back and he stumbled into a table, sending instruments clattering to the floor.

"Look now," Maddox said with a small smile. "You've made a mess."

Lore leaned against the table, bracing himself, calculating how much power it would take to knock the man unconscious and could he afford the drain? The calculations took too long – everything was operating too slowly. Maddox seized him by the upper arms and threw him across the table as though he weighed no more than a child's doll. He went sliding, scattering the remainder of the instruments and upending the heavy piece of furniture, which crashed down onto his leg.

"Now tell me," Maddox said, crouching down next to him, "how that felt."

His damaged subsystems had escalated from an irritating buzz in the back of his mind to a horrific wail. He barely registered Maddox's words over the din and wouldn't have been able to form a reply even if he had wanted.

"It's painful, isn't it?" Maddox continued. "A pain so deep and gnawing that you have never felt the likes of it before and can scarcely imagine what life is like without it." He stood and shoved the table away with a grunt. Lore pressed his palms to the floor and slid several feet away before hauling himself up once more. He wasn't about to give Maddox more of an advantage than he already had. The scientist smirked, and closed the gap between them in two quick strides.

Lore dragged the back of his hand across his mouth; it came back slick with yellow. Internal scans told him that similar leaks had sprung on his legs and torso, and several more inside his frame. Left unrepaired, they would begin hampering his movements in about twenty-three minutes.

"If your aim is to kill," he said finally, "you are horribly inefficient at it."

Maddox snorted. "I suppose you would know."

"Yes. I would."

A hand fastened itself around Lore's throat and in one quick movement Maddox had slammed his head into a wall he hadn't realized was there. The wails in his mind reduced suddenly to a dull roar as several of his internal systems gave in and shut down.

"How did it feel," he whispered, eyes wild and overly bright and hovering just centimeters from Lore's face, "when you were burning? Burning from the inside out, from top to bottom, everywhere at once and nowhere to run?"

"Wonderful," Lore spat in a voice half an octave lower than normal; his vocal sub-processors were failing, and fast. "Let's do it again."

Maddox dropped his hand from the android's throat and landed a punch to his midsection. Lore absorbed the shock and remained upright, fighting for control, shoving down the screaming reflexes that begged to be used; pleaded for him to react.

No. There's not enough power. Not yet.

The blows kept coming, opening up new gashes on his face and neck and arms with whatever Maddox could lay his hands on and when they finally stopped the scientist – turned - madman was in front of him, breathing heavily, dragging a hand across his eyes as sweat dripped from mussed hair. And as his systems screamed Now! Now! Do it now! the man was tugging at his trousers – a size too large for his lanky frame but then he had had limited options at the time – and they fell away with ease. He shoved the android back, kicking the discarded clothing away and deftly doing away with his own. His hands fastened around the lithe wrists and a word slipped unbidden from the machine's lips and in a moment they were pressed up against the cool wall, moving as one. Small sounds escaped the scientist to fill the cavernous room, all heavy moans and small gasps and grunted, half-formed phrases. His prey had fallen eerily silent, but whether that was by choice or because his vocal sub-processors had finally given out, Maddox would never know.

He was going to be back in the morning, Maddox announced when it was over. Lore was on the floor, limbs bent at angles that would have been uncomfortable in a human, staring once more at the ceiling with that unnerving, unblinking gaze. He was still conscious; Maddox was sure of it. He kicked the too-large trousers at the heap of metal– put your own damn pants on – and tugged on his own clothing. "And then," he murmured against the android's ear as he knelt next to the still-as-death figure, lips brushing the synthetic skin ever so slightly, "you can tell me how that felt."