The Soong Brothers

Chapter 2: Thorns

"Uncle Lore?" Lal asked, interrupting Lore's attempts to prune his latest plant. He had given in and started actually taking care of the blasted things, figuring that if killing them hadn't stopped Data from giving them to him, then maybe disproving his brother's theories on their supposedly calming nature would.

Lore looked down at the 'child' that had yet again invaded his room without knocking, just managing to keep his annoyance down to a mild grimace as he snapped, "What?"

"Are you a child?"

"What?" Lore repeated, this time with more force. "Of course I'm not a child! Where in the world did you get an idea like that?"

"Father says that I can't explore the ship by myself because I'm a child, and you aren't allowed out by yourself either," Lal explained. "As you quite obviously aren't a pet like Spot, I thought you might be a child that was uploaded to an adult body too soon."

"I never had a child body, that ridiculous concept was thought up by your father just for you," Lore told her, sneering. Then, sensing the opportunity for some fun, he smiled and added, "And who says I'm not a pet? Maybe I am and your darling father just forgot to mention it."

"You aren't a pet, Uncle," Lal protested. "You're father's brother."

"Well, why can't I be both?" Lore asked.

"Uncle!" Lal whined. She really was starting to get good with tones, she was already much better than Data was; he'd be proud if he didn't hate her and everyone else in his so-called family.

"Oh, alright, I'm not a pet," Lore conceded. And, despite not actually being sure of this fact, he firmly added, "I'm not a child, either."

"Then why aren't you allowed out by yourself, Uncle?" Lal asked, tilting her head in a way that was infuriating reminiscent of Data.

"Remember when your daddy explained prison to you?" Lore asked. At her nod, he continued, "Well I kept escaping prison because these dumb monkeys your father considers worth serving couldn't build a proper cell if their lives depended on it. So I got a choice between becoming scrap metal or living with your dad and letting him control my life. Truly a gracious choice Starfleet gave me," he added sarcastically.

"Oh," Lal said, pausing to process the new information.

After a minute of quiet, Lore returned to his plant, figuring the kid would go away now that her question had been answered. In his defense, he did not have a proper childhood and had little to absolutely no understanding of how children worked.

"Why were you in prison, Uncle?" Lal asked, interrupting him again.

"Well, you see, they had the most wonderful view through the cell window and why do you think?" he snapped. "I broke the law, kid."

"Which law?"

"A lot of them." For just a microsecond, Lore considered going into detail, or maybe making a few things up. He thought she wouldn't ask him questions anymore if he spun a horrifying enough tale for her. In fact, she might not talk to him at all afterwards...

He didn't go into detail.

"Why?" Lal pressed. "Surely you knew that you'd go to prison?"

"I did it because I felt like it," Lore told her irritably, avoiding thinking about the actual answer to that question. "I don't get why you're so interested in this, kid. Your dad's raising you as a proper little law-abiding Federation lapdog, so just focus on that and leave me alone."

Lal did not leave. However, she did go quiet again, which Lore counted as a win. He went back to his plant.

After several more minutes of having a child stare straight at him without moving or blinking (he cursed the fact that his emotional spectrum included being creeped out), Lore sighed and set down his pruning tools with a clang. "Shouldn't you be bothering your dad or the O'Briens or something? I thought I wasn't considered trustworthy enough to be alone with you?"

"Father is busy teaching Uncle B4 how to use a replicator." Again, Lal didn't add, because she was more polite than Lore was. "He told me to go talk to you until he was done."

"Tell your daddy that his attempts to trick me into spending time with you won't work," Lore grumbled, picking up his pruning scissors again and wishing he was allowed access to the computer mainframe so he could upload a gardening program rather than trying to learn this skill like a pathetic human.

"Of course, Uncle," Lal agreed. Then, with a smirk that looked far too much like his own and thus worried him more than he would care to admit, she added, "After he is done with B4. Until then, I am to speak with you."

"Knock yourself out, kid." Lore rolled his eyes. "Don't expect me to speak back, though. I have to finish this little project your father has tasked me with." And here he thought that he was done acting on the will of others.

"You have kept this one alive much longer than the others, Uncle," Lal told him, studying the plant curiously. "You should be proud of yourself."

"For not killing a bush?" He snorted. "It ain't that hard, kiddo."

"It's so green," Lal said in wonder, gently brushing her fingers over the leaves. "None of dad's plants are this green. You're very good at this, Uncle Lore."

"...whatever," Lore huffed. His brother's brat praising him over a skill he didn't even want to have did not make him feel touched. It didn't.

"Ow!" Lal suddenly gasped, jerking her small hand away from one of the plant's thorns. Oh, right, he'd forgotten she had pain receptors. She looked down at the small cut on her finger — Data was still trying to strike a balance between her false skin being flexible and resilient, leaving her vulnerable to minor injuries while he figured it out.

"It bit me," Lal breathed, and Lore almost made a mental note to tell Data to update her dictionary before he decided that it wasn't his problem. She looked up, eyes wide and shiny with unshed moisture. Great, Lore thought, she has the same tear duct malfunction as Beta. "Oh, Uncle, you've killed it!"

"What?" Lore blinked, then looked where she pointed. He had indeed killed the plant, his pruning scissors cutting straight through the main trunk. He waved a dismissive hand. "Eh, it doesn't matter; I doubt your father would let me keep something as fun as a plant that bites people, anyways. Speaking of Data, let's go find him, shall we?"

"Hm? Why?"

"You don't think I'm bandaging your liddle-widdle finger up, do you, brat?" Lore asked, exiting his room to enter the main room where the replicator was. "'Sides, if the plant's kicked the bucket, there's not exactly anything left for me to do here."

"I don't understand, Uncle." Lal frowned, following him. "No buckets were kicked during our conversation, and certainly not by a plant."

Lore sighed. "I'll explain it to you later, kid. Or better yet, I'll make your dad explain it; that should be good for some laughs."