Re:ST: Pandora "Pandora's Light", Pt II
Oren-De and Maggie, who had been conferring in whispers much to a recently-awakened Red's chagrin from his position two rows back, suddenly stopped when they heard the door to their chamber open again. A number of echoing footsteps, much more than before, began sounding throughout the room as Margulis, Dr. Shion, and their entourage entered the room and walked down the rows of captive Starfleet officers. The walked right past Oren-De and Maggie's position at the front and toward the front of the chamber. Up until now, it had been completely dark. However, when Margulis approached the area and entered a command on a lonely-looking console, the entire area suddenly came to life and lit up with the characteristic green aura of Borg technology. However, at the base of a mass of black cables, wires, and scaffolding that stretched to the top of the chamber, was a large Federation cargo transporter.
"Captain Oren-De, and Starfleet, it is time that you met our messenger to the glorious Nephilim," came Margulis' voice, which echoed throughout the room as if addressing a congregation. Dr. Shion and the rest the Zarath colonists that flanked her clapped as Margulis activated the device and no less than ten columns of blue transporter light shimmered on the dais. When they dispersed, a group of Borg stood in their place.
At the center of the group was a female Borg that Maggie immediately took note of. While the drones that surrounded her seemed standard fare, this Borg had a presence that called attention to her at best, and sent a chill down your spine at worst. Her head was held high and her eyes had a fire to them, which was very unlike the dead stares that most would usually associate with the Borg, as she looked out over the vast room of captured Starfleet personnel.
"She must be the Queen," Maggie whispered to Oren-De. Oren-De nodded, but was looking up at the device's connections to the ceiling. "How exactly did they transport through the ore's interference?" he asked back to Maggie. Maggie, who suddenly realized that herself, was thinking through that when a woman's voice called out through the room.
"Margulis and Dr. Shion, and indeed all assembled... you have done well," called out the Borg that Maggie had identified as the Queen. She stepped off the transporter platform in a deliberate and graceful manner, soon followed by her much more clunky entourage. The Gnostics only watched a reverence that struck most of the Starfleet officers that could see as nothing less than insane.
"We have the Starfleet Borg specialist, exalted Nephilim, who was studying that infernal disease," eagerly replied Margulis as he went into a deep bow. The others followed, including Dr. Shion who continued the report.
"We also have the Enhasan."
Oren-De looked at the Queen in surprise, while Maggie shot Oren-De a quizzical look. They were both wondering the same thing: what would the Borg want with Oren-De?
At this, a smile crossed the Queen's face. "Excellent. This is a most... inspiring... offering. The peace we all seek is truly within our grasp," she said in a silky voice laced with venom. She looked back at the Starfleet officers and her eyes settled on Oren-De and Maggie. She slowly glided over to them then looked at each in turn.
"The resources that have been lost to acquire you two..." she said with as much remorse as a Borg is capable of. "But soon, you will join us, and we will all once again be at peace."
Maggie bristled as the Queen spoke to her. "What the hell are you talking about, and who the hell are you? Since when do the Borg start cults!?"
"Do not speak to the exalted Nephilim in such a ma--" protested Margulis, but he was cut off when the Queen slowly raised her hand to indicate silence. She looked at Maggie with a hollow maternal smile.
"You may call me Albina of Borg. I speak for our... local... collective."
The sudden change in Maggie's demeanor from hostility to scientific curiosity was almost disturbing to Red, who was watching and listening from his position behind Maggie and Oren-De. "Local collective?"
"Yes. Sadly, I am not what you refer to as a Borg Queen, so my abilities to manage the drones are... limited. When we were cut off from the Collective following the events at that Federation world, I did what I could with the drones around me. I seek to return to the Collective and, for that, I need you."
Oren-De took this moment to speak, his voice much more calm than Maggie's. "If you think we have the kind of technology that can take you back to the Delta Quadrant, you're mistaken."
Albina looked at Oren-De, looking at him with what he couldn't help but think was some sort of sick affection. "That, I am painfully aware of. No, I wish for the Collective to come here and retrieve us."
Maggie's eyes widened. "Of course! You're not worth coming back for! You need to offer the Borg something that will make them want to come to you!"
"Maggie, I really don't think now is the time to be happy you got the right answer," chided Red. Albina ignored the medical officer's comment and simply nodded.
"The efficiency of the Collective, unfortunately, is currently in judgement against us. However, that is what you two are for, as well as this host of Starfleet officers. Your assimilation into the Collective promises a wealth of information on your flawed Federation, as well as that weapon you devised against us. However, the real prize... is you, Species 10883."
Oren-De looked at Albina with a raised eyebrow. "So it's not me you want, but simply a member of my race?"
"Your race is very unique among the races of the Alpha Quadrant. The records we've accessed cite that, despite being allied with the Federation for over 200 years, Species 10883 has resisted the social influences of the Federation. Instead, your race has retained it's more... perfect... tendencies."
The silence in the room was almost palpable. Oren-De felt the eyes of the Pandora and Cosmos crews on him, even with the thick slab of metal between him and them. It was bad enough that there was an empathetic rift between himself and his crew, but now a Borg Queen was admiring his species? Oren-De shot her an annoyed look. He figured he might as well cut to the quick of it, especially since this faux queen, like her subjects, was apparently content with monologuing.
"I take it you mean our meritocracy. Why are the Borg interested in it? Is your Collective not content with its own social hierarchy?"
"Your meritocracy is flawed. It is an imperfect product of imperfect beings. However, your ability to sustain even that system without the superior mind of our Collective is what the Collective will find interesting."
At this, Maggie's mouth hung open as she had an epiphany. "You want to serve up Oren-De and the rest of the Enhasans because they're practically a race of ready-made Borg Queens, maybe even Kings. They have a dramatic predisposition toward processing and evaluating abilities of others, which has allowed them to build such a system of government. It's a huge supply of the individuals the Collective needs to act as processors for their hive mind!"
"Again, really not the time for bragging about getting the answer," Red said, wishing Maggie would keep her trap shut. Oren-De said nothing, instead thinking about what Maggie had said. He suddenly feared for the safety of Enhasa if Albina were to succeed in contacting the Collective.
Albina, for her part, did not respond to Maggie's conclusion and merely looked at Oren-De. "Of course, this is all speculation. Unfortunately, we lack the capacity to perform a sufficient simulation." In one swift movement, Albina pressed her right fist against Oren-De's neck. The Enhasan gasped sharply as tendrils from her wrist shot into his flesh. Maggie shouted in protested, fighting her restraints and cursing Albina in more than one language. Red watched in horror from his limited vantage point, and the rest of the crew responded in varying degrees of terror and anger. In contrast, the assembled Gnostics seemed overjoyed at witnessing the event and, in fact, more than one seemed envious.
Oren-De's body lurched and spasmed in it's restraints. The Enhasan gritted his teeth, trying not to scream out in pain as the nanites flooded his body. Albina, her tendrils still in Oren-De, looked over at Margulis.
"Prepare for the arrival of Starfleet and Klingon officers. By now they should be attempting a rescue mission, and I've bided enough time since my transport from our ship. I believe they will arrive just as their captain... becomes our captain..."
"Captain Oren-De, and Starfleet, it is time that you met our messenger to the glorious Nephilim," came Margulis' voice, which echoed throughout the room as if addressing a congregation. Dr. Shion and the rest the Zarath colonists that flanked her clapped as Margulis activated the device and no less than ten columns of blue transporter light shimmered on the dais. When they dispersed, a group of Borg stood in their place.
At the center of the group was a female Borg that Maggie immediately took note of. While the drones that surrounded her seemed standard fare, this Borg had a presence that called attention to her at best, and sent a chill down your spine at worst. Her head was held high and her eyes had a fire to them, which was very unlike the dead stares that most would usually associate with the Borg, as she looked out over the vast room of captured Starfleet personnel.
"She must be the Queen," Maggie whispered to Oren-De. Oren-De nodded, but was looking up at the device's connections to the ceiling. "How exactly did they transport through the ore's interference?" he asked back to Maggie. Maggie, who suddenly realized that herself, was thinking through that when a woman's voice called out through the room.
"Margulis and Dr. Shion, and indeed all assembled... you have done well," called out the Borg that Maggie had identified as the Queen. She stepped off the transporter platform in a deliberate and graceful manner, soon followed by her much more clunky entourage. The Gnostics only watched a reverence that struck most of the Starfleet officers that could see as nothing less than insane.
"We have the Starfleet Borg specialist, exalted Nephilim, who was studying that infernal disease," eagerly replied Margulis as he went into a deep bow. The others followed, including Dr. Shion who continued the report.
"We also have the Enhasan."
Oren-De looked at the Queen in surprise, while Maggie shot Oren-De a quizzical look. They were both wondering the same thing: what would the Borg want with Oren-De?
At this, a smile crossed the Queen's face. "Excellent. This is a most... inspiring... offering. The peace we all seek is truly within our grasp," she said in a silky voice laced with venom. She looked back at the Starfleet officers and her eyes settled on Oren-De and Maggie. She slowly glided over to them then looked at each in turn.
"The resources that have been lost to acquire you two..." she said with as much remorse as a Borg is capable of. "But soon, you will join us, and we will all once again be at peace."
Maggie bristled as the Queen spoke to her. "What the hell are you talking about, and who the hell are you? Since when do the Borg start cults!?"
"Do not speak to the exalted Nephilim in such a ma--" protested Margulis, but he was cut off when the Queen slowly raised her hand to indicate silence. She looked at Maggie with a hollow maternal smile.
"You may call me Albina of Borg. I speak for our... local... collective."
The sudden change in Maggie's demeanor from hostility to scientific curiosity was almost disturbing to Red, who was watching and listening from his position behind Maggie and Oren-De. "Local collective?"
"Yes. Sadly, I am not what you refer to as a Borg Queen, so my abilities to manage the drones are... limited. When we were cut off from the Collective following the events at that Federation world, I did what I could with the drones around me. I seek to return to the Collective and, for that, I need you."
Oren-De took this moment to speak, his voice much more calm than Maggie's. "If you think we have the kind of technology that can take you back to the Delta Quadrant, you're mistaken."
Albina looked at Oren-De, looking at him with what he couldn't help but think was some sort of sick affection. "That, I am painfully aware of. No, I wish for the Collective to come here and retrieve us."
Maggie's eyes widened. "Of course! You're not worth coming back for! You need to offer the Borg something that will make them want to come to you!"
"Maggie, I really don't think now is the time to be happy you got the right answer," chided Red. Albina ignored the medical officer's comment and simply nodded.
"The efficiency of the Collective, unfortunately, is currently in judgement against us. However, that is what you two are for, as well as this host of Starfleet officers. Your assimilation into the Collective promises a wealth of information on your flawed Federation, as well as that weapon you devised against us. However, the real prize... is you, Species 10883."
Oren-De looked at Albina with a raised eyebrow. "So it's not me you want, but simply a member of my race?"
"Your race is very unique among the races of the Alpha Quadrant. The records we've accessed cite that, despite being allied with the Federation for over 200 years, Species 10883 has resisted the social influences of the Federation. Instead, your race has retained it's more... perfect... tendencies."
The silence in the room was almost palpable. Oren-De felt the eyes of the Pandora and Cosmos crews on him, even with the thick slab of metal between him and them. It was bad enough that there was an empathetic rift between himself and his crew, but now a Borg Queen was admiring his species? Oren-De shot her an annoyed look. He figured he might as well cut to the quick of it, especially since this faux queen, like her subjects, was apparently content with monologuing.
"I take it you mean our meritocracy. Why are the Borg interested in it? Is your Collective not content with its own social hierarchy?"
"Your meritocracy is flawed. It is an imperfect product of imperfect beings. However, your ability to sustain even that system without the superior mind of our Collective is what the Collective will find interesting."
At this, Maggie's mouth hung open as she had an epiphany. "You want to serve up Oren-De and the rest of the Enhasans because they're practically a race of ready-made Borg Queens, maybe even Kings. They have a dramatic predisposition toward processing and evaluating abilities of others, which has allowed them to build such a system of government. It's a huge supply of the individuals the Collective needs to act as processors for their hive mind!"
"Again, really not the time for bragging about getting the answer," Red said, wishing Maggie would keep her trap shut. Oren-De said nothing, instead thinking about what Maggie had said. He suddenly feared for the safety of Enhasa if Albina were to succeed in contacting the Collective.
Albina, for her part, did not respond to Maggie's conclusion and merely looked at Oren-De. "Of course, this is all speculation. Unfortunately, we lack the capacity to perform a sufficient simulation." In one swift movement, Albina pressed her right fist against Oren-De's neck. The Enhasan gasped sharply as tendrils from her wrist shot into his flesh. Maggie shouted in protested, fighting her restraints and cursing Albina in more than one language. Red watched in horror from his limited vantage point, and the rest of the crew responded in varying degrees of terror and anger. In contrast, the assembled Gnostics seemed overjoyed at witnessing the event and, in fact, more than one seemed envious.
Oren-De's body lurched and spasmed in it's restraints. The Enhasan gritted his teeth, trying not to scream out in pain as the nanites flooded his body. Albina, her tendrils still in Oren-De, looked over at Margulis.
"Prepare for the arrival of Starfleet and Klingon officers. By now they should be attempting a rescue mission, and I've bided enough time since my transport from our ship. I believe they will arrive just as their captain... becomes our captain..."
