“Steady as she goes, Mr. Prentice.”  Captain Wren Walton sat in the center command chair, PADD in hand.  In The Vestibule, Commander Park held court over Lieutenant Hazel Wallaker and the senior science team, who sat at the four stations, eyes glued to the screens.  Next to Wren sat Baron Nine with Lieutenant Ada Josephs and her medical team observing him through medical tricorders along with instruments attached to the ex-Borg.

Wallaker worked the sensors, directing them to scan asteroids and beyond.  She teased out the data that her team was cataloging.  “Detecting power signatures farther in – they’re buried deep but still functional.”

Wren turned to Baron. “Report.”  She was trusting her Deputy Chief Medical Officer in the risk of having the ex-Borg on the bridge with his previous performance against the Vorethi-bots.  His eyes remained focused, and his head turned slightly at her question.

He replied, “There is an increase in…something.  The closest approximation is that of a familiar noise.  It is not Borg, but it is within the spectrum of my former masters.”  His eyes searched ahead, still in the present with the bridge crew.  “There is a desire…perhaps a better word is the need to evolve their language beyond.”

Park reported from The Vestibule.  “We’re seeing attempts to influence our secondary systems.  Baron’s programming is keeping them at bay.”  She walked to the other science officers’ screens.  “The activity is increasing in complexity and speed.”

Baron’s eyes narrowed for a moment.  “They are insatiable in their desire to learn.  It has been a consistent theme in my engagement with them.  It is not malicious, but a deep curiosity.  The initial programming may be responsible for this attitude.”  He paused, eyes flicking back and forth as if he were reading code.  He held out a hand.  “PADD, please.”  Walton stared at him for thirty seconds before handing hers over.  Fingers tapped quickly across the screen, birthing new code in an instant.  Baron returned the PADD.  “This will ensure that they cannot make further progress.”

Walton handed it off to a science officer to inspect and verify before she turned back to face the screen.  The risks they were taking with Baron Nine, and diving deeper into the reaches of the asteroid belt were redlining the meters for her.  She asked herself what choice they had?  The answer she knew was not much.  “Time to intercept The Constructor?”

“Ten minutes, captain.”

Previous Vorethi generations had hollowed the enormous asteroid out, and the labyrinthine industrial complex that lay ahead was overwhelming and ominous in equal measure.  The dark crimson veins of energy pulsed through the machinery and lighting.  Adrift, inside and around were drones.  Most were active, silently observing as the Perseverance slid into view from the clot of asteroids that formed a natural door.  Others were derelict, inactive and scarred.

Walton took it all in and gasped at the next sight.  Half-built ships were in the bays. Some looked as though they had been abandoned long ago, rotting and fading away.  Others appeared to be nearly finished or in the process of completion.  “They have ships.  That seems outside the programming,” she mused.

Baron shook his head slowly. “It is ‌part of the adaptation protocol. Programmed to mine, they developed it as the programming allowed.  The Constructor filled in what it could, within the constraints of its directives, while the scientists remained silent.”  He blinked. “They are unhappy that The Creators did not come with you.  They wish to speak with us.”

Wren replied, “Open hailin…”

He shook his head more forcefully.  “No, they wish to speak with us in person.  Inside The Constructor.”

Park stepped back onto the bridge, her eyes wide with concern.  “Why in person?  What’s changed?”  There was something in the way Baron had relayed the message.  Something she couldn’t shake or ignore.

Baron cocked his head to the side, as if asking that question of the Vorethi-bots. His reply was quiet, and unsure.  “They say the conditions have changed.  They are unwilling to state how and what has changed.”  He closed his eyes tightly, and his breathing became heavy, startling Josephs and her team as his heart rate also sped up.  After a beat, his eyes opened again, and his vitals returned to normal.  “I have forced a disconnection.  They are unhappy with me.”  He turned to Wren.  “Captain Walton, I believe they wish to meet in person for several reasons.  It is all conjecture, as they will not allow me to see and hear the full breadth and width of their thinking.  I believe they have become interested, or perhaps fascinated with me.  Their curiosity about me is unsettling, as they cannot contain or hide that from me as I talk with them.  They are also curious about humans after their unsuccessful transfer of the Runyon and its crew.”

Walton sat back in the center chair, amused and amazed.  “If it unsettles you, we can find another way.”

Baron appeared to think as his eyes narrowed, and mouth moved as if to speak.  He answered, “It is uncomfortable to experience, but as you and others have reminded me – being uncomfortable is sometimes the default of an officer in Starfleet.  Learning to accept this will help me move forward.  I do not sense a threatening posture from the Vorethi-bots.  They are aware of our ship’s weapons and that there are several more of them within striking distance.  They do not aim their fury at us.  It is being held in reserve for the Vorethi Blood Guild.”

Walton glanced at Park.  “I don’t think we have a secondary option, never mind a third plan.”  She questioned Baron. “Did they ask for anyone in particular?”

“They requested you, me, Dr. Josephs, and Lieutenant Wallaker.  They were very specific in their request.”

Walton stood. “The longer we try to debate them, the more problems we’re going to face.  Let’s get to work then.  Commander Park, you have the CONN.”

The transporter beam faded, revealing a short path to The Constructor, which loomed high above them.  To help the humans, the Vorethi-bots had created a temporary life support system and walking path into the beastly building.  Much of the mechanical wiring, equipment, consoles, and limited displays shone with varying shades of red.  Ruby to scarlet to dull pink to a dark maroon cast an ominous tone as the Starfleet officers walked.

As they entered the cragged and high halls, Walton took in the walls.  Vorethi-shaped shells lined the walls.  She could see that there were Vorethi-bot prototypes in various stages of construction and decay.  The ruined units cast a sour red, rippling with unerring shadows across the floor.  They came to the intersection and turned ‌right.  A massive object lay ahead of them, glittering with all shades of red.  Partly square, cube, and sphere, it was obtuse at every angle. It gave Walton the feeling of corruption that had twisted it in the months and years since the Blood Guild had built it.  Wires, new and old, littered the rough floor.  Sparks flew from the modified parts of the build, and Walton could see power flickering across the facility.

Baron trembled. His efforts to keep the Vorethi-bots out of his mind were taxing him.  “The original lab is further down the hall.  I shall remain here with Doctor Josephs.” He was clenching his hands in tight fists and releasing them slowly.

Walton motioned to Wallaker.  “With me.”

“Captain.”  Hazel had followed her into the laboratory building.  They stood among the decaying bodies of the original Vorethi scientists, the lab itself a wrecked disaster.  “We need a plan to get out of here.”  Her eyes were wide open in perpetual shock at each revelation, and the lab had not disappointed.  The rising fear and anxiety at getting out of this mission alive had eaten at her confidence and pushed panic from the back of her mind to the front.

Walton walked deliberately through the rows, searching for an active console that hadn’t been smashed or thrown across the room in a violent furor. “Lieutenant Wallaker, you must tap into the reserves of your courage.  We are alive because they like Baron Nine, and they do not see the value in our, for lack of a better word, assimilation.”  She grinned at the console she’d found four rows over.  “Now get over here so we can figure out what happened here, get that evidence they’re being so particular about, and figure out how we’re going to talk down a murderous and possibly genocidal robot.”

Wallaker blinked and felt her face bloom with embarrassment.  She skittered over to where her CO stood.  “I’m sorry, Captain Walton.”

“Changed behavior is the best apology, Lieutenant Wallaker.  Doubting yourself is for the rookies.  We gotta show ‘em how it’s done.”  She tapped at the console, and several icons appeared. “These look like logs.  See what you can do with them.”

Hazel went to work and grew frustrated with her first few errors.  She felt the ongoing stare from Captain Walton and resolved to prove herself worthy under the unrelenting eyes of her CO.  It took a few minutes longer than she would have liked.  “Got it.  Starting with the first one.”

The holo-display popped up, and a Vorethi face appeared in the flickering light of the projection.  “We have begun the building of the construction enterprise.  A great step forward for our guild that will allow us to crush the others once we have it working to full capacity.  No one will be able to stand in our way.”

Walton grumbled, “They seem nice.  Next.”  Wallaker keyed up the next.

“I told Jorethia that we shouldn’t have used such a primordial artificial intelligence…that we should have waited for updated instructions from the Guildmaster.  She couldn’t wait.  We’ll have to do lots of code work in the coming days to make it work with our experimental elements.”

Wallaker counted two more logs.  The rest were too corrupted.  “These are the last two logs of the scientists, Captain.”  She hit play.

“It has given itself a name.  The Constructor.  It’s helping us adapt the Vorethi genome for mechanical fusion, so that’s helping speed up the process.  We’ve implemented a base program of survival, replication and adaptation.  It’s learning as we go and perfecting the process.  I can’t shake the feeling that it’s watching us during our downtime.  The rest love it and have spent many hours talking to it.  They say it’s to understand and refine it.  I’m concerned it’s using them to learn something.”

Wren let out a long sigh. “Last one.”  Wallaker clicked the file.

“We’ve made a terrible mistake.  The Constructor has taken the others into the chambers to build them into the units.  It said it was because it must survive by replicating as many units and ships to speed up the mining process…but I know that’s not true.  It’s me and a few others here.  We’ve sent messages home, and nobody has responded.  The Vorethi-bots are working at the doors to the lab now.  We’re going to die.  We made a mistake in the programming.  I don’t know where, but it’s there somewhere.”  The face looked up, terror filling his eyes.  “They’re coming.  They’re coming.  I guess this is what a good day’s work looks like to the Blood Guild’s Guildmaster.  I hope they come for you.  And I hope they feast on your indifference.”  The camera shook, and screams soon filled the audio.  They died out a few minutes later, replaced by the tantrum destruction of the lab that seemed like it would never end.  The video clicked off.

Walton stood in abject horror, her mind replaying the death and destruction that had just been on the screen.  She could feel nothing but sadness at the misdirected genius that had taken the scientists’ lives And left a robot artificial intelligence alone, stewing in murderous vengeance.  She finally asked, “Can you make a copy of that data to transfer to our systems?”  The science chief nodded.  Wren stepped back from the solitary working console. “We need to get back to Baron.  I think I knew what they were missing from the programming.”

“What?”

“A heart.”