A/N: Thank you for reading/reviewing/kudos/likes.

In this chapter, I've taken some creative licence re: Omicron Theta and Data's memories. The source material was inconsistent regarding Data's memories. I've chosen to use that in a way that is intentional.

C/W: Contains abusive behaviour, smut, and dub con/rape. Will contain Data/Tasha fluff. Lore is a master of manipulation. This chapter also includes a dark moment from Lore's past where he hurts an animal.

This is a fic in which Lore (still his loveably flawed, chaotic self) plays the long con before showing his true colours. Also, Lore and Data have significantly greater capacity to feel than canon suggests.


"And how is the wedding planning coming along?" Deanna inquired.

Data and Tasha glanced at one another.

"We haven't really, uh," Tasha trailed off.

"That is to say that we have been rather focused on," Data attempted to explain.

"Enjoying our engagement," Tasha concluded.

"Yes, enjoying our engagement," Data said as he gave Tasha's kneecap a gentle squeeze.

Deanna kept her response neutral, but inside she was cheering.

"I'm glad to hear that," Deanna said.

"And we've decided to move in together," Tasha shared with a smile. "Hopefully soon."

As their session continued, Data and Tasha continued talking about their next big step and how they were coordinating things with Wesley.

The conversation was easy, but Deanna's mind was a flurry of activity. She was reading the emotions radiating off not one, but two clients simultaneously. Deanna was also analysing their body language.

Data and Tasha were seated next to one another on the sofa. Their hands were looped together, fingers intertwined and resting in Tasha's lap.

And as she listened to them, Deanna could tell they were being honest. They weren't merely just saying things were going better – they really were better.

Tasha felt comfortable with intimacy again and not just from Tasha. Deanna was thrilled to know that things were going well in terms of Data and Tasha being open about their relationship.

For over a year, Tasha had been seeing Deanna one-on-one for counselling to help her develop a healthy sexual relationship with (at that time) an undisclosed partner.

Now that Deanna knew this was Data, she couldn't be happier – even if she had been sceptical at first.

She could tell from the way they looked at one another and spoke about their relationship, they were truly partners.

And given that things were going so well, Deanna decided to take a risk and address one of the issues they had yet to mention.

"I wanted to switch topics a bit and talk about another aspect of your relationship," Deanna said.

Data and Tasha sat patiently waiting for Deanna to continue.

"Given your personal and working relationships, I was wondering if the two of you may be interested in a group counselling session with Beverly Crusher?" Deanna asked.

Tasha stiffened.

"As you know, she recently suffered a blackout like Wesley and I wonder if some of her behaviour as of late isn't tied to that," Deanna explained. "It might do you all some good to sit down and talk through what's happened in the setting of a formal counselling session."

Data's grip on Tasha's hand tightened.

"Look, I feel terrible that she's had to experience this blackout episode. And I know it hurts that Wesley has chosen to leave home," Tasha began. "But she did that to herself. She chose to let Wesley walk away."

Deanna nodded slowly.

"I know that it's hard because-"

"And plenty of things she said and did were quite nasty well before this blackout incident," Tasha said, her voice full of bitterness. "It's not new. She's been like this for weeks."

Deanna didn't want to pressure Tasha into anything, but she was hoping they could find a path forward to healing their friendship and Wesley's relationship with his mother.

Though Deanna was alarmed by Beverly's relationship with Lore, she knew that her friend was feeling isolated and afraid.

"Right now, she's feeling alone. She's afraid. You've been there. You know how hard it is," Deanna reminded her.

Tasha scowled.

"I'm sure it is rather scary to lose your memories, your son, your friends," Tasha acknowledged.

She glanced down at her lap and gripped Data's hand.

"I told her. Warned her," Tasha said. "I told her in confidence that Lore…"

She paused.

"I told her that Lore raped me," Tasha said in an even, determined voice.

Tasha lifted her face to meet Deanna's eyes.

"She called me a liar. And desperate," Tasha said.

Her voice was beginning to shake.

"She called it a convenient narrative to cover my jealousy and Data's coding errors," Tasha went on.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"I told her what Lore's done since. The way he takes every opportunity to make my life, Data's life, a living hell," Tasha fumed. "And when did the same thing to her son, Beverly didn't even bat an eye."

There was resentment and betrayal radiating out from Tasha. Deanna knew reconciliation was a long way off.

"So no, I don't want to sit down with her and talk about my feelings," Tasha declared. "I want her to pull her fucking head out of Lore's arse before I will even consider sitting down to talk."

Data stepped in and turned to Deanna.

"This is not about ego or anger," Data said as he rubbed soothing circles on Tasha's back. "But Doctor Crusher has made a choice and now we must make a choice to protect ourselves and Wesley."


Beverly's face lit up as Lore entered her room in sickbay.

"My dear doctor," Lore said.

He placed a bouquet of flowers on the nightstand and then pulled over a chair to sit next to her.

"They're lovely," Beverly said, eyeing the flowers.

"Yes, she is," Lore remarked as he tucked a thick red curl back behind her ear.

She was so grateful to see him – though Lore couldn't help but notice she appeared disappointed.

"What is it?" Lore demanded.

"Jack gave me foxglove on our first anniversary and then every occasion thereafter," Beverly shared.

There was a wistful look in her eyes as she recalled her beloved late husband.

"And I told Wesley that when he was a little boy and then one day he surprised me with a bouquet of foxglove," Beverly said with a sad smile. "Wesley would give them to me every year on my birthday."

Lore wanted to roll his eyes.

The last thing he wished to discuss was her idiot son. The dead husband was a close second for dead last.

But instead, Lore settled for cupping her face and turning Beverly's attention back to him.

"You deserve flowers every day," Lore said. "Not just your birthday."

Beverly's cheeks flushed.

"And I do mean that," Lore said. "Tell me what you want, and I will be sure to have it waiting for you tonight."

Beverly didn't know what to say.

Lore was horrified when she burst into tears.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

She reached up to wipe away the tears in a desperate attempt to regain some composure.

"What is it?" Lore asked, gripping her chin.

Beverly felt embarrassed that she'd lost her cool like that over something so petty – but it stung. Lore could see she was struggling with voicing her concern.

"You may tell me anything," Lore whispered.

Beverly's shoulders slumped.

"You know you're the only person that's come to see me?" Beverly asked. "Wesley's got visitors dropping by for lunch, to read, to share updates on his projects. And I don't have anyone."

She closed her eyes and exhaled, making the most pathetic noise Lore had ever heard.

"You have me," Lore said.

He must have sounded more hurt than he thought as Beverly's hand shot out quickly.

"Oh I know and you're so very good to me," Beverly assured him. "I just… it hurts. My friends don't seem to care anymore."

"Because of me," Lore said.

Beverly didn't have to agree – they were both hyper aware of that fact.

"Look, I don't-" Beverly began to say.

She didn't want Lore blaming himself.

"I know it is me," Lore said. "They're jealous of us. Of what we have. Of what we mean to each other."

Lore cupped her face and moved in close as he eyed Beverly with delight.

"Of all that we have," Lore whispered.

His hands felt hypnotic, his breath divine. The golden glow of his eyes had Beverly entirely captivated.

"I am going to take such good care of you tonight, Beverly," Lore purred.

He pressed a slow, tender kiss to her lips – lingering just long enough to ensure she was breathless by the time they parted.

"I will be back to see you home once you have been released," Lore promised.

He reached out, running his thumb across her bottom lip.

"Be a good girl for me," Lore smiled.


The Caliban | 2335

Lore was lying on the floor of the cargo hold in the cage that was his home.

There was a taste of metallic fluid in his mouth from where he had bit down with enough force to break through his artificial tongue.

It wasn't entirely severed, but Lore had done considerable damage to the artificial organ.

He only hoped that his captor would permit him to complete repairs.

If I am even capable. Lore thought.

Setek - his half-Klingon, half-Romulan captor - had really done a number on him following Lore's latest adventure outside the cage.

With Setek, everything was about power and control.

"Look, it's frightened," Setek teased as he knelt down.

It.

That was what Setek called him.

And he was frightened. Lore's whole body was trembling as Setek descended on him. On this ship Lore had no rights, no protection. He was trapped somewhere between being a pet, toy, and slave as Setek used him for all sorts of purposes.

Everything from collecting scrap on dangerous space wrecks to entertaining Setek's guests – it was all part of life on the Caliban.

The great behemoth of a warrior shushed Lore as he ran his thumb across his bottom lip.

"That's a good pet," Setek soothed.

Only it wasn't meant to soothe Lore. This was all part of how Setek played with him. He would offer him kind words or a gentle caress right before he became the most menacing thing Lore could imagine.

And if he misbehaved or didn't perform a task quickly enough, Setek would shock Lore until he was twitching involuntarily from the surge to his neural net.

Lore whimpered in fear of what was to come.

Setek dropped his hand to Lore's thigh as he traced the brand he'd placed there.

The moment Setek moved his hand, Lore flinched.

Setek threw his head back and roared with laughter.

"I didn't even touch you and you're shaking," Setek chuckled.

A second later, Setek brought the back of his hand down across Lore's face.

"You pathetic little twig," Setek roared. "I'll give you something to cry about."

"No, no, no," Lore pleaded, desperately shaking his head as he scrambled back toward the corner of his cage.

"Get over here," Setek ordered, pointing at the floor. "Now."

Lore crawled back into the exact spot Setek had indicated to. He sat on his knees, keeping his back ramrod straight and his hands resting on the top of his thighs.

"There," Setek whispered. "Isn't that better?"

"Yes," Lore replied as Setek pet his hair.

As he knelt there on that cold, metallic floor, Lore made a promise to himself. He vowed that if he were to ever break free of this place that he would be the one in control.

"I do so love watching you squirm," Setek mused.


Omicron Theta Colony | 2335

Lore grinned as he stared down at the kitten in the box on the ground.

It was so soft with teeny paws that looked like little white mittens. It was all of ten weeks old and mewling loudly.

B-4 had always had a thing for cats. Much to Noonian's frustration, B-4 and Data had been hiding a litter of kittens in the house.

It had been only too easy for Lore to get his own.

"What are you doing?" Lucy shrieked.

Lore couldn't pull his eyes away from the scene below as Lucy desperately tried to intervene.

"Stop it!" she demanded.

She reached into the box, but Lore caught her hands.

"Do not. Look. Watch," Lore said.

He was breathing hard, his chest heaving from excitement. Lore felt his cock twitch with anticipation.

The box was fireproof.

The kitten was not.

And Lore had lined the only path out with shards of glass, sharp tacks, and a caustic adhesive.

Lore's eyes went wide, his face lit up as the tiny, helpless creature's cries grew more desperate.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Lucy shouted as she hit Lore's arm and chest.

"Look at squirm," Lore said in awe.

It had awakened something in Lore. He grinned with delight as finally understood exactly why Setek had been chasing the thrill of tormenting Lore.

It was the most intense emotion Lore had ever experienced.

As soon as the kitten perished, Lore turned to Lucy. He was already seeking his next fix.

"What the hell happened to you?" Lucy asked.

Lore looked giddy as he eyed her body.

They had been lovers once – though things had changed since his return to Omicron Theta.

"Beg me," Lore ordered.

Lucy was revolted.

"Beg me," he demanded. "Beg me for it."

"Ow. You're hurting me," Lucy protested as Lore's hand twisted painfully into the back of her hair.

"Look at you squirm," Lore remarked, breathless.

"Get away from me," Lucy said, attempting to push him back.

Lore's face fell with disappointment – not in his own behaviour, but rather Lucy's unwillingness to participate.

It is not supposed to be like this. He thought.

"You said you loved me?" Lore asked, confused.

Lucy was mortified. She scrambled backward, desperate to put space between them as she smoothed her hair and fixed her dress.

"Stay away from me," she declared, her hand trembling as she held it out between them.

"Lucy?" Lore asked, stepping close.

"No!" she shrieked. "Stay the fuck away from me you freak!"

Lore watched in horror as she ran out of the barn leaving him alone.


Lore returned to the house an hour later. As he stepped inside, it was almost like he was in a trance. Data immediately detected the smell of something acrid and burnt on Lore's clothing.

"What is that foul smell?" Data asked.

B-4 sniffed at the air.

"Unpleasant," B-4 remarked.

The two brothers were sitting on the floor in the main room of their house watching the kittens play on the floor. They were nine of them in total in all sorts of shades and patterns, crawling about as they wandered on wobbly legs.

Juliana was seated on the sofa. She was cuddling a small fluffy white kitten. Data was carefully observing one of the kittens as he held it. And B-4 was sitting there looking like an idiot enjoying himself as three of the kittens climbed all over him like he was tree.

"I need another kitten," Lore demanded.

Data frowned.

"Why?" Data asked, eyeing his brother with hefty scepticism.

"I said, I need another kitten," Lore repeated.

"We have lots of kitties," B-4 said.

He was fascinated by them.

"I like soft things," B-4 said, stroking their fur.

"Too many damn cats!" Noonian remarked from the kitchen. "The first one of those little beasts that pisses on my floors is going to be me taking them out and drowning the lot of them in a bucket."

Juliana scowled.

"No you will not!" she declared.

She snuggled against the kitten she was holding.

"Nothing is going to happen to you little darlings," she cooed.

Lore reached down to simply help himself to another kitten when Data's arm shot out to stop him.

"I am taking this one," Lore said.

"What happened to the kitten you took before?" Data asked. "Where is it?"

Lore glared down at his brother.

"It's a fair question," Juliana chimed in.

"Ran away," Lore said.

"Then we should begin a search immediately," Data said as he stood up. "I will start in the barn. That is where you were last, is it not, brother?"

Lore panicked. He couldn't have Data poking around the barn. It would be obvious what Lore had been up to.

That was part of why he'd chosen the barn in the first place. No one ever went out there. It was an unused building on the Soong property – close enough that Noonian still considered it 'on premises' but a quarter of a mile from the house.

"I simply want a kitten," Lore said.

"For what purpose?" Data asked.

He couldn't pinpoint it, but Data had a feeling his brother was up to no good. The notion that it involved a living creature in some manner only raised more alarm bells in Data's mind.

This litter was far too small and vulnerable for the likes of Lore and his demented ideas.

Lore picked one of the kittens up and scratched it gently with his finger.

"To hold. And pet," Lore said. "Such sweet things. Utterly helpless. Does it not bring you joy to watch them?"


Shortly after dark, Lore returned to the house still carrying the foul stench of his deeds on his clothes. Data watched him carefully as came in and made to go upstairs without a word.

"Where is your kitten?" Data asked.

"Lost I fear," Lore replied.

"What did you do to it?" Data demanded.

Juliana could sense things were heading for an argument and knew it was time to intervene before the boys came to blows.

"They need to sleep together," B-4 said as he set them all down in a box. "Go to sleep. Go to sleep. Go to sleep my furry babies."

Lore rolled his eyes as B-4 began to sing.

"Boys, I don't want any arguing before bed," Juliana warned. "Now Data, we shouldn't be jumping to any conclusions about Lore."

Lore smirked at his brother behind Juliana's back. Mother was always in Lore's corner.

His air of superiority vanished when Juliana turned to him. There was something different in her face, almost like distrust as she looked to her favourite son – pleading for him to tell her he hadn't done something terrible.

"Lore, that's the second kitten that ran away today. What happened?" Juliana asked.

"I failed to secure the latch on the little pen out there," Lore lied.

They used to keep more animals – a whole menagerie of them. But B-4 struggled to control his strength and Lore had been keen to use that to his advantage.

After B-4 had killed another bunny by holding it too firmly, it had been only too easy for Lore to cover his tracks.

Noonian had grown suspicious of this and had an inkling Lore was actually responsible for some of the deaths. Unfortunately, he couldn't prove it.

In the end, Noonian sold off all the rest of the animals to remove the temptation.

And then the kittens came along.

"Did you even look for it?" Data asked.

"I kept all of my attention fixated on the creature," Lore said.

He was doing his best to feign mourning, but there was a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"I fear that its scooped up by one of the hawks in the meadow. I saw one circling all day," Lore lied.

Data knew that he had to stop Lore. He also recognised that directly accusing him of harming the kittens without proof would only lead to another family dispute.

Mother and father were already fighting enough as it was – Data did not want to add further tension.

"Mother, I believe we should impose a new rule. The kittens must remain here in the main room. For their safety," Data said.

It was a disappointment as Data had already been making plans to take one of them to his room as his own. He'd spent all afternoon constructing a multipurpose climbing, scratching, and bed contraption for the kitten he'd dubbed Cosmo.

But Data couldn't risk Lore getting his hands on another kitten. He needed to keep them somewhere safe where they could account for their whereabouts at all times.

Lore scoffed.

"That's ridiculous. You don't trust me," Lore said. "You want to observe me with them? Must I pass your test before I'm permitted to play with the animals?"

"You said there was a hawk circling the meadow. It is for their safety," Data replied simply.

The next morning, B-4 was the first one out of bed. He'd come down early so he could be there to feed the kittens before breakfast.

When Data came down ten minutes later, he found Juliana desperately trying to convince B-4 to hand over one of the kittens.

"We have to say goodbye now," Juliana said softly.

"But we fix it. Like you fix me," B-4 said.

He didn't understand why they simply couldn't take the kitten to Father's workshop.

"What has happened?" Data asked in alarm.

It was Cosmo, his kitten.

"Poor little thing must have tried to climb out and jump down. Broke it's neck," Juliana said.

"I found Cosmo on the floor. He is not moving," B-4 said, offering the kitten to Data.

Data took the tiny kitten in his hands and brought it to his chest.

"I'm sorry, Data. These things happen," Juliana said.

Data's mouth became a thin line as he heard Lore's footsteps on the stairs.

"Good morning," Lore said as he approached them.

"Why don't you start the kettle?" Juliana suggested, hoping to put some distance between her sons.

"What has happened?" Lore asked.

"The kettle," Juliana said, politely nudging her son to let it be.

"The kitty died," B-4 said. "It was all floppy when I picked it."

Juliana sighed. She could just see Data's anger in his posture. And it broke her heart whenever her tender boy felt that way.

"Poor little thing broke its neck overnight. Terrible accident," Juliana said.

"Pity brother," Lore remarked. "I know it was special to you. They really are so helpless. Its tiny little neck must have just snapped like a twig."


Present

"But I'm fine," Beverly insisted.

"It is one more night," Doctor Selar said. "We've registered some unusual brain wave patterns."

Beverly shook her head in disagreement.

"I just need to go home and rest," Beverly insisted.

"Doctor, I need to keep you here for observation," Doctor Selar pressed. "It's just until we can confirm that you aren't a danger to yourself or others."

"Come now, can't have you blacking out on the bridge or near a restricted area," Picard said brightly. "We just want to ensure you are safe."

But Beverly wasn't having it.

"I'll be safe in my own quarters," she replied coolly. "And as Chief Medical Officer-"

Jean-Luc cleared his throat.

"For the time being, I've appointed Doctor Selar as acting Chief Medical Officer in your stead," Picard informed her.

Beverly felt like she'd been slapped in the face. In two decades of service to Starfleet she had never once been removed from duty.

"You're putting me off duty?" Beverly asked in disbelief.

"Just temporarily," Picard assured her.

Beverly crossed her arms and flopped back against her pillow in a huff.

"I noticed my son was released - against my wishes - I might add," Beverly grumbled.

"You saw his charts," Doctor Selar gently reminded her. "Wesley's neural activity shows no unusual changes. Your own pattern has had an unexplainable series of spikes over the last twenty-four hours."

She had done her best to keep Doctor Crusher informed of all their findings.

"You haven't reported any new blackouts," Doctor Selar started to say.

"Rather difficult to tell when I'm trapped in this room," Beverly interjected tersely.

"But our working theory is that these spikes may correspond with lapses in your cognitive ability and memory," Selar shared.

Beverly was picking at her fingernails as she kept her eyes on the bed.

"I'll take my leave," Selar said with a polite nod before seeing herself out.

It left Jean-Luc and Beverly alone.

For several agonising seconds, they were both silent.

"I just want to make certain you are safe," Picard said.

Beverly glanced up and eyed him carefully.

"Is that really what this is about?" Beverly asked.

Jean-Luc shrugged, indicating he didn't follow.

Beverly pursed her lips.

"Alright then, don't say it," she said. "You never could."

"This has nothing to do with-"

"With what?" Beverly asked with a satisfied laugh. "With the thing you're suddenly so quick to deny?"

She'd caught him red-handed, and they both knew it.

Jean-Luc cleared his throat and tugged down his uniform shirt.

"My personal feelings for you have nothing to do with my decision," Jean-Luc said before his voice softened. "But they have everything to do with my concern for your safety and well-being."

He took a tentative step forward and rested his hand on the end of her bed.

"Beverly, you are my oldest and dearest friend," Jean-Luc said. "I implore you to listen to what I have to say."

She did not respond.

"Please let Doctor Selar help," Picard pleaded. "And, and I would like to come by tomorrow. We can have breakfast together. Like we used to."

"I have plans," Beverly replied coldly.

Jean-Luc nodded in understanding.

"Well then, goodnight," he said with a hint of sadness.

As soon as the door shut, Beverly felt awful for being so cold. She had been so frustrated and lonely – cooped up all day in one room. And Jean-Luc had offered to provide company and she'd rejected him.

At least I have Lore. She thought as she fell back against her pillow.

It was all she had left to cling to.


Tasha sat back on her knees and used the back of her sleeve to wipe the sweat from her brow.

"Try it now," she instructed.

Commander Riker tapped the console and punched the controls. The console lit up and a soft hum emanated out from the circuitry.

"Seems to be holding," Tasha said.

She chewed on her lip as she observed the breaker. The team was spending most of the day working to upgrade the shields in preparation for whatever was out there.

Working in pairs, it had taken them nearly the entire day to reroute power in half the ship. Diverting from unused systems, they had managed to increase the shield capacity twenty-three percent.

Tasha and Commander Riker were having trouble with one particular breaker at a tactical substation on deck twenty-one. Meanwhile, Worf and Geordi were doing the exact same work on a different level.

Geordi had worked with Tasha to map out areas where their shields could be boosted in an effort to buy the Enterprise more time.

Such improvements were not a long-term solution. Tapping into that much power ran the risk of creating dangerous surges and outages. It could damage the circuitry, the breakers, and the graviton projectors that produced the shields.

They still had no idea what they were up against. But using the data from Starbase 212 as a starting point, Geordi had predicted the shields could hold for a total of eighteen hours and thirty-eight minutes under moderate bombardment.

"How many is this now?" Tasha asked.

Riker offered her his hand, helping hoist Tasha to her feet. He knew it was hard work. And Will Riker wanted to help – but he didn't know the first thing about poking around such delicate equipment.

"Nine," Riker answered. "And thirteen more to go."


"Where did you find this?" Picard inquired.

"The heavy bitrium deposits triggered a memory engram," Data shared. "Though I cannot locate the specific engram."

It was the first time Data had ever experienced such an inability.

"I must have read or studied the report at some point in the past," Data surmised.

Jean-Luc swiped his finger across the screen as he skimmed through the contents of his tablet. It was a summary Data had prepared based on numerous reports, eye-witness accounts, unexplained disappearances, and the research of one Doctor Kila Marr.

She was a xenologist and a former resident of Omicron Theta.

"There are dozens of accounts of such destruction over the last three hundred years," Data advised. "Missing starships. Colonies that have vanished. When Federation records ceased, I checked the portions of the Vulcan database we have downloaded on the ship's computer."

Data had dug through all of it, piecing each disappearance and unsolved mystery together like a detective mapping a crime scene.

"This is impressive work," Picard remarked.

Jean-Luc glanced up at Data and frowned.

"But it still doesn't tell us what we're dealing with," Picard said.

"Correct, sir," Data acknowledged.

While there were reports of something large spotted in or around the area, there was nothing official to confirm what it precisely was.

Rumours of a great, shining ship had found their way into Vulcan, Klingon, and Terran lore. Passing Orion trade ships called it Opnug which loosely translated to 'the great white death.'

Even the Romulans had legends of such a ship. They called it the tu 'endrovtro which meant 'beautiful flower.'

Data surmised this had something to do with the Romulan habit of misnomer. The Romulan language was full of examples of beautiful, yet deadly creatures, poisonous flowers, and deceptive treats intent to lure in unsuspecting victims.

"Doctor Marr believed that such a ship or creature was responsible for the disappearance of the Omicron Theta colony," Data shared.

Months earlier the Enterprise had been one of the first ships to revisit the Omicron Theta colony since it's destruction twenty-six years earlier.

Data had fragments of memory. Yet there were gaps.

Significant gaps.

Though he retained memories and logs from the colonists, Data had been unable to recall his creator or his own time on the colony.

And there was something buried in those memories that made Data naturally leery when it came to Lore.

"In the wake of her son's disappearance, Doctor Marr has dedicated her life to investigating this anomaly," Data informed the Captain.

Jean-Luc could sense where this was headed.

"And you would like to contact her," he said.

"Yes, sir," Data nodded.

Jean-Luc set the tablet down on the surface of his desk. He sat back in his seat, scratching his chin as he contemplated how to proceed.

Their next destination was only twenty-nine hours away.

Invernium Strata

It was a desolate wasteland hardly fit for life. Sparsely populated and a known haven for outlaw traders, black-market profiteers, and escaped convicts, Invernium Strata was a dangerous place.

It was home to an estimated twelve-thousand people. The planet was much smaller than the previous targets.

But it was in the immediate area.

And if this really were a ship of some sort, it could be using Invernium Strata as a staging point for the attacks.

"I'd like to maintain the blackout as we approach Invernium Strata. But once we've completed our investigation, I intend to report back to Starfleet Command," Picard explained. "You may contact Doctor Marr then to see what she knows."

"Thank you, sir," Data said.

There were a number of remaining unanswered questions – but Data felt confident they were on the right track.


For as many times in the last few days, Lore felt like the universe was conspiring against him.

He sat there on autopilot listening to Beverly prattle on about neural scans and brain patterns, headaches, neurotransmitters, synapses, and dopamine levels.

She was lonely.

And angry.

Desperate to escape sickbay, to return to her life with Worf.

And longing for companionship.

"I just can't wait for tomorrow. I'm itching to get out of here," Beverly said. "But Doctor Selar is right. These neural patterns indicate there's a disruption in my synaptic functioning."

A dark look crossed her face.

"I've never seen anything like this," Beverly shared. "It's unsettling."

Medical mysteries were always uncomfortable. The fact it was happening to Beverly herself only added to the tension.

Lore was struggling to keep his mind focused on Beverly.

He was genuinely trying his best to care. But the more she went on about how lonely it was, the more Lore found himself struggling.

It was necessary to remind himself that this was his beloved Doctor. She had stood by him in spite of the Captain, Data, and even her son turning away from Lore.

Her loyalty had cost her the respect of some of the crew and taken a toll on her friendships.

So much like Juliana. Lore thought.

And just like Juliana, it seemed there were some things she couldn't do for Lore – at least not in their current circumstances.

Beverly continued to talk, sharing with Lore just how frustrated she was about Wesley's medical condition and Tasha's involvement.

As she poured out her heart, Lore could see her mouth moving. He registered there was sound. And he occasionally gave her a small nod or sound of approval.

But his mind was lightyears away.

"So you'll be back in the morning? We can get breakfast together?" Beverly asked eagerly.

"Of course. I'll see you then," Lore replied.

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

"My dear doctor," he said fondly.


As soon as he was outside of sickbay, Lore breathed a sigh of relief. He strolled down the corridor to the nearest lift and resigned himself to an evening alone working to tweak the Ferengi Though Maker receiver he would implant in Beverly's quarters.

The lift opened and Lore stepped on. He found himself alone with Ensign Emily Evers.

"Evening, Mr Lore," she said, greeting him.

"Ensign," he replied with a small nod.

She was a member of the operations crew and had been into sickbay a handful of times for minor lacerations and burns as part of her job in maintenance.

And with her casual, upbeat attitude, statuesque shoulders, and athletic build there were striking similarities between her and his brother's precious Lieutenant – right down to the boyish blonde cut with long bangs and gold uniform.

Opportunity dropped into my lap. Lore thought.

"How is your hand, Ensign?" Lore inquired, recalling her most recent trip to sickbay.

"Oh, it's alright," she replied as she held it up. "Thanks for patching it up."

Lore took hold of her hand and turned it over to inspect it.

"Yes, looks like those plasma burns have healed quite nicely. No scars," Lore smiled.

He intentionally massaged her palm, providing an excuse to keep hold of her hand. Lore was grateful for his self-control so that he could stop himself from smiling as he watched Ensign Evers's cheeks turn pink.

"You have lovely hands," Lore remarked.

"Oh, thank you," she blushed.

"Forgive me," Lore said.

He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on the back of it.

"I am still learning what is appropriate for humans and how to properly express myself," Lore said. "On the planet where I was raised, humans often displayed such affection to show an appreciation for beauty."

He was playing up his feigned naivety. It was his best ruse.

Ensign Evers smiled coyly and turned back toward the door.

"It's alright, sir," she hastily assured him.

Lore's face fell.

"Oh no, I have made you uncomfortable," Lore sighed.

"No, no! It's fine. You're very sweet," she replied.

There was a slight pause and Lore could sense her body temperature had increased.

"I'm just not used to, you know, hearing that kind of thing on the lift," she said in an attempt to play it off. "It's not everyday you step on to the lift and someone pays you such a nice compliment."

There was a slight intake of breath as Lore reached up to cup her face. For a moment, he simply studied her reaction.

"That is unfortunate as you should hear it more often," Lore said softly.

Evers let out a small, nervous laugh.

"Oh, you don't have to say that. I wasn't fishing. I'm sure you say that to all the Ensigns," she teased.

Her voice faltered under the intensity of Lore's gaze.

"I am incapable of lying or employing such tactics known as 'lines'," Lore said.

The line was delivered with such astonishing innocence that Evers bought it.

"You are remarkably attractive," Lore said.

He was trying to imitate the kind of thing Data would say to make it sound genuine.

"Visually pleasing to the eye. And such soft, warm skin," Lore said as he gently ran his thumb over her cheek.

Ensign Evers was holding her breath, completely captivated by Lore as if he were hypnotic.

"Forgive me, I have once again failed to follow proper etiquette. Is this the part where I ask you to share a meal?" Lore inquired.


Shortly after 20:00 hours, Data returned to Tasha's quarters for the evening. They'd been planning to spend a quiet evening having dinner with Wesley.

However when he arrived, Data found Wesley alone at the table working on his project for his Klingon language course.

There was a plate of food under a temperature-controlled stasis pod waiting for Data.

"Hey Data," Wesley said, looking up from his tablet.

"Good evening, Wesley," Data replied.

Wes glanced over to the bedroom door.

"She was really sorry. Tasha felt just awful, but she was falling asleep eating dinner. Finally convinced her to just go to bed," Wesley explained.

"Thank you," Data replied in earnest.

He stepped into the bedroom to find Tasha curled up against his pillow.

It had been a long day working with Commander Riker. The physical and mental exhaustion of refitting the shield emulators had left Tasha feeling drained. And being back on report with so many early mornings had started to take its toll.

Tasha was completely knackered.

Data pulled the covers up over shoulder. He tucked her bangs back behind her ear and pressed a tender kiss to her temple.

She didn't even stir.

Data sighed, feeling utterly content. He was pleased to find her lost in dreamland. She even looked happy.


"Mmmm, Data we can't," Tasha said.

"We have time," he replied.

His breath was warm as his lips travelled from just below her ear to the spot where her neck met her shoulder.

"I will be late," Tasha breathed.

"As your commanding officer, I will overlook such an infraction," Data assured her.

Tasha couldn't quite place where she had to be, only that she was due somewhere – and the thought of being late only made what they were about to do hotter.

It was over the minute Data's hand crept up the back of her leg to cup. He scooped Tasha up and pressed her against the wall.

Trapped between the wall and a hot body, Tasha felt wonderfully small and safe.

She didn't know how or why they were dressed in civilian attire. Tasha had no recollection of it. But it meant Data had easy access to his target.

Or rather, targets.

It was nothing for him to slip the loose sleeves of her top down to expose her shoulders. Data nibbled at the flesh there before turning his attention to the swell of her chest.

"Ah," Tasha breathed as she felt his cock slip inside.

She clutched the back of his shirt and squeezed her legs around his waist as Data nipped the pulse point of her neck.

They were together. Data's cock was stuffed safe and snug deep inside his favourite place. Tasha felt delightfully full.

Data lavished her with attention as they clung to one another.

"You feel so good," she whispered.

Data rested his forehead against her own and eyed Tasha carefully. He gently rutted against her, and Tasha keened.

"Will you smile for me?" Data asked.

Tasha grinned as he started to move.

"That is it," Data cooed as he watched her every response.


It had been a poor choice to flirt with another member of the crew while Beverly was in sickbay.

And Lore knew it had been downright foolish to invite her back to his quarters for dinner.

But he'd always enjoyed playing with fire.

Lore was desperate, itching for a fix.

And desperation led to mistakes.

But as he watched this lovely blonde Ensign squeak and gasp underneath him, Lore knew he'd made the right choice.

They'd stopped off at her quarters so she could drop off her toolkit. Lore had convinced her to leave her combadge at home.

"You won't need that," Lore had assured her, detaching the combadge and placing it down on the table. "No interruptions. You deserve a break."

Dinner had been nothing more than a prelude to an evening of fun. She was a little shy and it played perfectly into Lore's plans.

He'd been charming, pretending to be so tender and inexperienced as he pulled her closer and closer into his trap.

His first kiss during dessert had been tentative, probing.

The second had been intense.

When he'd pulled away and politely feigned concern for her happiness, Ensign Evers had practically melted.

A dash of 'is this correct?' and plenty of 'does this feel alright' had her eating of his hand.

Lore couldn't believe his luck in finding such an eager little plaything that he could manipulate.

Once she had been convinced to give herself over to Lore, he had switched from the patient, unassuming android to the debonaire lover that Beverly had come to adore.

He knew exactly where to kiss, how much pressure to apply with his hands, and what to say.

Ensign Evers had heard rumours about Lore and Data and their alleged performance in the bedroom. Programmed for pleasure. Designed to delight.

And as Lore continued to plunge himself into her, she was convinced they were all true.

Lore's senses were on fire, overwhelmed by the sensation of the fact he was doing something so incredibly dangerous.

Were he to be caught, it would mean ruining his relationship with Beverly.

It enhanced the thrill.

His hands closed around Ensign Evers's throat.

"Do you like when I fuck you?" Lore asked.

"Ah…yeah," Evers panted.

It was a sharp deviation, but not entirely unwelcome.

"Say it," Lore demanded.

"Feels…ah…good," she replied.

It wasn't enough. Lore needed more. He craved approval.

"More," he urged.

"Um, please?" Evers said, attempting to meet his demands.

"Beg for it," Lore insisted.

"Please," Evers replied.

Lore could sense he was losing her. The passion she'd held a moment earlier was beginning to slip away. But Lore was so close.

He knew he needed to act fast, to get what he wanted, or it would be an unsatisfying orgasm. Driven entirely by his insatiable appetite, Lore made a move of desperation.

He reached under his pillow as his fingers closed around Evers's throat.

"Beg me," he pleaded. "Beg me to fuck you, Lieutenant."

Evers was confused.

"I-I-I'm an Ensign," she stammered.

It was lost on Lore. He was grinning wildly.

"My brother can't do this for you, can he, Lieutenant?" Lore asked.

Evers frowned as she tried to move away.

"What?" she asked, horrified.

But Lore was manic, wholly consumed by playing his sick fiction. Ensign Evers could tell something was wrong, but she had no inkling she was merely a surrogate for Lore's fantasy.

"Say please," Lore ordered in a dark voice. "Be a good girl, Lieutenant."

Evers froze. Her mouth opened, but she couldn't bring herself to speak. When her lip began to quiver, Lore chuckled.

He stuffed the knickers he'd had Wesley steal from Tasha down her throat.

"Go on, scream," Lore teased.

Her eyes went wide with fear. She panicked at the sudden violence of Lore's creepy behaviour.

She shook her head, clawing at Lore's hand on her throat as a muffled noise of protest escaped. For Lore, it was all part of the excitement as he watched her squirm.

She was coughing, gagging in an attempt to clear her throat.

"Mmm-ong whim mmmyo."

What's wrong with you?

It came out garbled due to the makeshift gag – but Lore got the gist of what she was asking.

It was a question, an accusation, he was all too familiar with.

"Shut the fuck up, Lieutenant," Lore barked.

He resumed with an unrelenting pace, his arm unphased by her attempts to break free and his neural net surging at the sound of her tears.


On the other side of the ship, Data was nestled in bed with Tasha enjoying a rather pleasant dream. He was in a field of flowers watching a butterfly as it floated along in the breeze, flitting from flower to flower.

The temperature was warm, but not unpleasant and somewhere in the distance Data could hear the noise of water flowing through a rocky, babbling brook though he could not place the precise location.

The purple butterfly landed on his knee so delicately that it would have been imperceptible to humans. Data reached out and gently took hold of its wings in hopes of getting a closer look.

But as he pulled the butterfly toward him for closer inspection, Data realised its tiny, fragile wings were torn as the butterfly strained against his fingers.

Horrified, Data dropped the creature.

Overcome with remorse, he gently tried to pick it up.

Only it wasn't a butterfly – it was Tasha.

And he was no longer outside. Data was in his quarters, sitting behind his workstation and Tasha was on his lap.

She giggled. Her hands were on Data's face as she nuzzled against it.

Data blinked as he tried to get his bearings.

"Don't stop," she said playfully.

Data was suddenly aware of his hands and the fact they were holding Tasha.

"Baby," she urged, rolling her hips in his lap.

Data captured her lips in a hungry kiss as he resumed bouncing her on his lap. Data felt good, energised. He let his hands roam as he savoured in the feel of it.

Their current setup of using Data's personal quarters as their own little love nest was proving to be the best thing that could have happened to them.

Data kneaded her breasts as Tasha keened and let her head fall back.

Data had always admired her neck and the line of her jaw. It was one of his favourite places to nibble as he found it oh-so-kissable.

The fact she made the most delightful noises whenever he planted his mouth there was merely coincidence.

Data's hand closed around her throat as he admired the way it felt under his fingers. He could feel her pulse, the rate of her breathing. There was so much that he could discern from that connection.

"Data," Tasha gasped.

He thrust up into her, driven by the sensation of feeling her heartbeat under the thumb pressed against her neck.

"Data," Tasha said, her voice strained.

Her breathing was laboured.

"Hurts," she choked out.


Lore frowned as he ran his finger down over the curve of Ensign Evers's neck. He traced his fingers along the bruising that marred her shoulders and clavicle.

Then he flopped back and stared at the ceiling.

You never did have patience.

His father's words echoed in his mind.

"Pity your necks snap so easily," Lore remarked as he turned back to the body lying next to him.

Then he sighed.

"Thank goodness you weren't really her," Lore said as he pet her hair. "Would be a shame to have broken her so quickly."

Lore pulled her body into his lap and kissed the top of her head.

"Don't feel bad. You were a pleasant little aperitif," Lore assured her.

Lore got out of bed and produced a fresh garment for himself from the replicator. He threw the jumpsuit he'd worn earlier into the garment reprocessor and set it to destroy.

Then he sauntered over to the mirror and took his time combing his hair and inspecting his appearance before turning back to the bed.

"Now what to do with you," Lore pondered aloud.


Lore grumbled to himself as he stood there staring at Ensign Evers's body.

He really didn't want to part with the stolen pair of knickers that were currently occupying her windpipe. But he also was reluctant to take them back to his quarters.

He was already pressing his luck as were and couldn't have his brother stumbling upon any evidence connecting him to what would be the mysterious disappearance of this young Ensign.

"Shame we didn't get more time, darling," Lore said, stroking her cheek. "But may I just say your performance was remarkable."

He chuckled to himself.

Yes, Lore knew he'd be thinking about this one for a while. It would be something he could look back on to sustain him while Beverly was unavailable.

"Don't forget to write," Lore teased as he kissed her forehead.

He stepped back and shut the hatch on the waste disposal unit. In a few hours, she would join the other biohazard waste that was unsuitable for repurposing.

The chute would drop into the ship's waste incineration port before it was destroyed leaving no trace.

Lore was completely unaffected by the callousness of his brutality.

Lore whistled to himself. There was a little bounce in his step. He stopped just long enough to wish two Ensigns a good morning as he strolled down the corridor.

"Oh life could be a dream," Lore crooned as the lift doors closed behind him. "If I could take you to a paradise above. If you will tell me I'm the only one you love."


Data was watching Tasha with a mix of alarm and fascination.

She whimpered and Data's cock twitched.

His free hand slipped to the small of her back, holding Tasha firmly in place as he rose from his seat. Data set her down on the surface of his workstation.

He planted his free hand next to her head and began to drive into her.

Tasha squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to bat away the hand that was clutched around her throat. She was terrified. Her sweet, sensitive Data had transformed into a monster driven by the excitement that came from terrorising her.

Data was simultaneously aroused and horrified.

He couldn't understand why he found this so pleasurable.

Am I truly like my brother? Does such evil exist within me as well? Data thought with alarm.

"Look at me," he instructed.

Tasha opened her eyes and met Data's gaze. She looked so shocked and broken. Her whole body was trembling.

It made Data pause.

He took a step back. Somehow, some way, Data knew that he had to get away from Tasha before he hurt her any further.

All of a sudden, Data sat up in bed.

His chest was heaving as his optical receptors adjusted to the dim light. Glancing around, Data quickly realised he was in Tasha's bedroom.

It was all a dream. Data thought.

But such a notion was unsettling.

Is this what it is like to feel queasy? Data pondered.

He glanced down between his legs at the stiff erection that was straining against his thin drawstring trousers.

Data was mortified.

He squeezed his eyes shut and made a small noise as his attempt to override his sexuality programme failed.

Data's hands were shaking. The artificial pulse that regulated his coolant system was throbbing. It echoed in his ears, drowning out all other sounds.

"Mmmmm," Tasha groaned as she woke up next to him.

To Data's dismay, she snuggled up against him.

Data's body tensed as her hand caressed his thigh.

"Morning," she said in a hazy voice.

Her fingers slipped under his soft, cotton t-shirt and ghosted across his abdomen until she found her target.

She giggled as she slowly traced his erection.

"Good morning," she said in a low voice. "Feels like I'm not the only one that had a pleasant dream."

She had woken up terribly aroused from a lovely sensual dream and was hoping to take advantage of that.

Tasha leaned in close as she gripped Data's cock.

Desperate to get away, Data scrambled back. Without warning, he slipped off and landed on the floor with a loud 'thud.'

"Are you alright?" Tasha asked.

"I am fine," Data assured her as he stood.

Fortunately, it had been enough of a momentary distraction for Data to relax and deactivate his sexuality programme.

"I've got report in forty-eight minutes. What do you say we go to your quarters and save time by showering together?" Tasha suggested as she walked her fingers up his thigh.

"I-I-I forget that I have an experiment running in the lab that requires my attention," Data said.

Tasha frowned as she watched him rush to get ready.

"Is everything alright?" Tasha inquired.

"Yes," Data replied, feigning certainty. "It is just that I am-"

He stopped as Tasha placed her hand on the side of his face, forcing him to turn back to her.

"We can pick this up later," she said. "But I'll be thinking about you all day."

She flashed him a brilliant smile.

"Right," Data said with a small nod.

Without another word, he left.

Tasha flopped down on the bed and grumbled. She wasn't blaming Data. By virtue of their positions, they were used to having to schedule their relationship around experiments, assignments, inventories, and emergencies.

She wasn't accustomed to feeling so libidinous.

For over a week she'd had increasingly erotic dreams and there just didn't seem to be enough time in the day to catch Data for sufficient recreation.

Tasha took a slow breath and tried to push away thoughts of Data's hands.

Why now? She thought to herself.

Of all the times for her body to go into overdrive, Tasha was struggling to accept it had to be first thing in the morning.

She groaned, her hips coming off the bed as she rocked against nothing. Tasha squeezed her legs together.

Bad choice. She realised.

There was a tiny bit of friction – but nowhere near what she craved.

Resigned that it would be another long day, Tasha snagged a clean towel and headed for a cold shower.


Across the ship, Tasha wasn't the only one feeling icy and neglected.

Beverly had woken up early, barely able to contain herself in anticipation of breakfast with Lore. She was typically an early riser.

Though on this particular morning Beverly had been up since 03:48.

She'd had trouble sleeping. Once she was up, she hadn't been able to fall back asleep.

It felt like torture waiting there for company.

During the last few days of her isolation and observation, Beverly had already caught up on her backlogged medical journals. She'd done some casual reading and sent off a few subspace letters to friends.

She'd read and reread the Federation news and had even sent out inquiries into some holiday destinations.

If Data and Tasha had been permitted to slip away, Beverly considered it was only fair for her to take Lore somewhere special too.

Jean-Luc would just have to approve leave given that he'd let two senior officers take such a lengthy trip on short notice. It was only fair.

But as the hours ticked on, Beverly had grown increasingly agitated.

Then frightened and lonely.

And finally, she had begrudgingly come to accept that Lore was not coming.

She initially thought that he might simply be delayed. Then she was concerned something had happened. But the computer had said he was safe in his quarters.

She had no idea that her lover was riding the high of his last conquest. After dumping his victim's body, Lore had returned to his quarters for champagne and a breakfast for one before settling in to tweak his the Ferengi device that would set in motion his master plan.

Like an addict on a binge, Lore had no awareness of time nor the world outside of his quarters.

There was a soft knock at the door that caught Beverly's attention.

She sat up and smoothed her hair with her hand.

"Come in," she called out.

She immediately perked up, expecting Lore to sweep into the room with an apology, a carefully prepared breakfast, and a kiss that would take her breath away.

"Jean-Luc," she said.

The disappointment in her voice was obvious.

"I am sorry to disturb you," he said.

He cleared his throat and stepped in properly with a thermos and small basket in hand. Jean-Luc didn't have to say that he'd been waiting for nearly three hours to see if Lore would arrive.

He'd come with breakfast anyway.

And when it had become apparent that the woman that was dearest to him in all the universe was left waiting, Jean-Luc had been there.

Because that was what friends did.

"I, well, I thought you could use a spot of breakfast and seeing as how I haven't eaten yet," Picard shrugged. "I'm sorry I don't have anything fancy. It's just coffee and croissant."

"I prefer something simple in the morning. Coffee and croissant sounds divine," Beverly replied.

Her face softened as Jean-Luc pulled up a chair. He set the basket down on the bed while Beverly poured them both a cup of coffee.

"This is that hazelnut stuff," Beverly said, smelling the warm, nutty aroma. "It's terrible."

Jean-Luc stopped midway through spreading marmalade and raised an eyebrow. Beverly responded in kind with an innocent look.

The corner of Captain Picard's lip began to curve upward, and it wasn't long before his face broke out in a smile. Beverly couldn't help but grin.

The two shared a laugh as they dove into their breakfast.

It was as if no time had passed between this meal and their last.