"As you all know, our orders are to be at Orion IX in 20 hours." Picard tells his assembled officers. "The Enterprise will continue its current mission. The question is what we shall do in regard to Mr La Forge's disappearance. The search patrol we sent to Aquilae II gave me their report this morning…" He pauses, searching for the right words. What the search patrol had told him had been unexpected. He doesn't know quite what to make of it.
"Where there any surprises, Captain?" Troi asks, reading his mind as usual.
Picard clears his throat. "The patrol encountered the two dead Klingons and the unsalvageable wrecks as reported previously by Mr La Forge. They also found large areas of trampled and flattened grass, logs that had been moved around, spills consisting with those one could expect from a Soong-type android..." He looks down at his PADD to get the facts exactly right. "…the remains of a campfire, remains of a meal consisting of two grilled fish...then three drops of La Forge's blood next to the moved log, and what the team presumed were Lore Soong's discarded clothes, torn up into rags and spread around the scene. There was also a broken neuro charger."
His officers wait a beat for him to continue.
"A campfire..?" Troi says tentatively.
"The ashes were at least 18 hours old. Somehow La Forge failed to mention it in his report."
"He made a camping holiday out of it!" Riker says, astonished. "The man clearly doesn't get enough shore leave."
Picard smiles. Logically he should be equally worried about both of his missing officers, however Data and the melon are weighing the most on his mind. The Starfleet status 'Missing in service' has many nuances to it, but he thinks he knows his Chief Engineer well enough to assume in this case it's "with Lore, in the ship, and missing" as opposed to "lying dead in a swamp on Aquila II, and missing". The presence of a campfire adds weight to this assumption, even if he can't quite picture the scene of Mr La Forge and Data's dangerous brother sitting together in front of a cosy fire. And what had possessed La Forge to bring raw fish to the planet instead of a ready packed meal?
"Captain" Troi says, "I think the fire might be a sign of La Forge trying to reach out to Lore. He has faith that he can come to agreement with him."
Worf growls from the end of the table, arms crossed over his broad chest. "His conviction that the android will help him by staking out the way to Data is wishful thinking! We have every reason to suspect that ...thing... is setting us up somehow!"
Yes, there is that possibility. Luring La Forge along with empty promises and then using him as live bait for Starfleet to come running straight into an ambush would not be beyond Lore.
"Suggestions? Number One?"
"Are we tracking their craft?" Riker says, leaning on one elbow on the polished table. "Surely the new models have all sorts of tracking possibilities? If we get their position we can monitor them and see if Lore leads us to Data."
"The comms have been switched off and the tower connectors stopped. Our comms team are working on filtering out the warp echo. They are optimistic they'll get it sorted in a couple of days."
"We can't wait for that!" Worf barks. "They are both in danger! If Data's brother really has a device to track him down he might try to destroy him instead of rescuing him. He tried to kill Data in the transporter room! My advice is to send a strike team and pick up their track at the scene. Then when we get a trace we'll stealth-mode our way close, beam up La Forge, and then blast the craft to pieces."
Ah, and he has already imagined himself as the leader of this team. Nothing worse for a Klingon than to sit and wait. "If that was to be our plan of action Mr Worf, we would be back on square one regarding Data's whereabouts. Let's double our efforts in getting a trace, and meanwhile we shall continue to Orion."
His security officer lets out a deep growl. "Captain!"
"Your objection is noted, Mr Worf." Picard bites down on his words and his Security Officer shrinks ever so slightly down into his seat.
"I will ask the Starfleet ships in the area to assist us in searching for warp traces. They can't just have vanished into empty space. Any wayward signal from their craft shall be transferred to me at once. In Mr La Forge's absence, Lieutenant Chief O'Brien will be in charge of Engineering and Lt Parsley will lead Systems Engineering. Make it so. Meeting adjourned."
"Parsley?" Riker says. "We're talking about the shy, tall guy, right? That's Barley."
"Well. We all know who we are talking about." Picard harrumphs. Broccoli? No that's not it either. Barracuda?
He gives up and exits the meeting room.
—
—
The scientist had spend many hours researching their strange golden catch. Since there was no information to be found regarding this particular type of android, he had to use data on the human reproduction cycle. It lasted on average 40 weeks, and always ended in a rather messy affair. He had amassed illustrations of the different stages and compared them to the size of the prisoner's external belly pod. The charts indicated that the golden humanoid had about ten more weeks to go until completion.
It was certainly interesting to learn that humans had started to reproduce with their self-made mechanic copies, allowing these machines to carry their mixed bio/mech system offspring. It was a very clever way of improving the human race, one the scientist hadn't expected from the humans. They were normally a superstitious breed with an extremely poor ability to perform consequence analysis.
The scientist looked at the scans of the humanoid. Maybe they shouldn't trade it after all. It would be most interesting to see the larvae-like product it currently hosted bloom into an adult. He was especially curious to learn how its bio/mech brain would develop. And since its parent had accepted its place quietly, making no scenes or having violent outbursts, it wouldn't be a bother to have it around. It had even learned some of their language.
And the truth was, he needed its help. The experiments he had spent the last days performing, using the detailed 3D-model as a basis, had not been successful. His attempts to create a brain similar to the humanoid's had failed miserably. The most annoying bit was that he had no idea as to why it didn't work. It just didn't. There was but one choice: fetch the prisoner.
—
Data was busy pressing the melon against the cargo bay wall when two guards came for him. It was bad timing, since a couple of membranes had just managed to worm their way through the uniform fabric and into the wall. Some of the joints in the metal coating had traces of aluminium, and the melon had kicked twice with excitement when the first membrane had reached its goal. Well, at least he knew where to find it if he was to return here.
The guards had taken on a vaguely humanoid shape, but they still looked very much insect. Like two-meter versions of Mantis religiosa walking upright. They released him from the wall, but not from his electrified manacles. One of them pointed meaningfully towards the lift.
"Where are you taking me? I am not pleased with having to move at this moment."
No response, of course. This race weren't really talkative. He straightened his back, the weight of the melon causing him to make only a minor adjustment to his balance, and followed the pritides into the elevator.
—
The lift opened into a corridor. To their left was a door leading to a dimly lit room. It looked at a first glance to be a laboratory. The guards indicated that is where he was supposed to go.
"In there? Well." There were many elements to be found in a laboratory setting. Maybe they had finally listened to his requests and were to provide him with nourishment?
He stepped into the room. There was a large slab-like table in the center, and on it lay a familiar shape.
If he had been human, he was certain he would have screamed. On display under a sterile white light lay a perfect copy of himself, naked, cut open from the throat to the crotch. All the panels on the head were removed, making it look like a duranium pin cushion of ports and light diodes. The chest was split wide open, the rib construction folded apart to reveal the inner workings. And the belly… He stared at the perfect copy of the melon, split into two. Liquid had splashed from it and dripped down on the floor, making a reddish-pink puddle. There was a lot of liquid. He took a step closer. In the mess that was left of the chamber lay something small, like a heart; red and raw with flecks of gold, duranium and steel shining through the meat. He had to look somewhere else for a millisecond. Even without feelings the scene was making him …unequilibrated.
"Why doesn't it work?"
A pritide had materialised from the shadows behind him. It was speaking Standard, finally, maybe as a courtesy to his fumbling attempt with Pritide, maybe to show him they were as clever as he. It floated up to the slab, pointing accusationly at the replicated head. "Why doesn't it work? And this." A limb shot out to poke at what had been the melon. "Doesn't work. Why?"
Data took comfort in the warmth of the real, living melon against his stomach. "I cannot be replicated. My brain works only with a certain set of quantum strings, adjusted in the correct way. A replicator cannot do this job because the values of the quantum strings are invariably jumbled up in the scanning process and does not transfer."
"I try, and try again." the pritide said, floating closer. "Power cells work, yes, body comes alive. The brain doesn't. Quantum strings." It changed into a solid, spider-like shape, its grey eyes focusing on his. "You were constructed, by humans?"
"Yes. My father is Dr Noonian Soong, a genius among humans. His work on positronic brains is generally considered to be among the best, if not the best. He possessed a deep knowledge of quantum theory and could thus set my brain in working order. It is not - "
"Humans!" The pritide interrupted Data just as he was about to explain that constructing brains as advanced as his was in fact not common knowledge among the human race. It chewed its mandibles thoughtfully, looking down at the mess on the table. "You have learned part of our language. It's a very complex language that humans are not able to speak. Yet a human has constructed you."
"I suspect the inability to speak your language has perhaps not so much to do with the human mind as with physical traits of the human larynx and vocal cords." Data explained. "I can detail further how I am constructed if you agree to release me. You already have a blueprint of me. I can guide you through it to the best of my knowledge. Doctor Soong's work deserve to be spread and appreciated."
"How did Dr Noonien Soong set up the quantum strings? How can this seed of a human-machine bloom into an adult? How does your replicator work in this instance?" The pritide lifted up a part of the replicated melon and shook it. "Can you answer these questions?"
"If you release me." Data looked around the lab. There were many interesting instruments he had never seen before. Parts of a bigger construction lay strewn over work areas. They looked like they would form a projector of some sort. There were broken q-bits ying around. He recognised them as the q-bits he had loaded onto the Enterprise.
"I see you are working on a much bigger project, for which you apparently wanted the Starfleet q-bi-" The melon kicked him in his food container. "- hts."
He took 0,003 milliseconds to collect himself and continued unperturbed: "I see light transmitters and a 3D grid builder. May I ask what you are constructing?"
"I can't tell you that. I can figure out the answer to your questions. Quantum string theory." The insect-like creature turned its head to face him, its eyes huge and faceted. "You shall remain here until your offspring arrives, then we shall trade for both of you. Ironically you are more valuable when we don't know the answers. You are so far unique. I know about the lack of nourishment. You shall have anything you wish." The pritide looked at the melon. "It's very clever, this bud. Is this also Dr Noonien Soong's work?"
Data raised his head proudly. "It is by me and my partner. I shall warn you that my disappearance has not gone unnoticed. Soon Starfleet will come for me. It will be a lot less hassle for you if you release me."
"Starfleet? Starfleet has no idea where you are. Now you will go back to your place. There will be nourishment laid out. We want to make sure you both will be complete and bring good trade."
—
He was escorted back to his place in the cargo bay and re-attached to the wall. Somebody had been working hard in his absence; a selection of all imaginable elements were neatly lined up on the floor, displayed in shallow containers. Perfect. He immediately bent his head down and munched up zinc and potassium, washing it down with gulps of water. Immediately his logs registered a halt to the deterioration of his inner workings. He celebrated this small mercy by licking up a mouthful of gold flakes.
Starfleet didn't know where he was? It made sense. They would already be here if they knew. No man left behind. By his own calculations he was 1,3 parsec from the place where they had taken him. A ship like the Enterprise would have covered that distance in less than two days.
He considered his options. Could he mix an explosive from the different elements laid out before him and apply it to his arm bindings? Maybe the trigger wouldn't go and he could get out of them without getting electrocuted. Or perhaps he could empty the power cells somehow. If only he wasn't thinking so slowly. They would need to apply some nano-replicator techniques to his head to fix that when he had returned to the Enterprise.
He was busy pondering his situation when another guard came up to him, staying well out of reach. "Prisoner, you will be pleased." it said in Standard. This was a most favourable tendency. Hopefully there would be no more pritide.
"I will?"
"You are about to get company. A company for you to pass the time."