Star Trek: Season 8 - The Perfect Reflection

[ElfManDan]

Fissual stopped abruptly as he looked around the corner. Reese stopped behind him.

"What is it?" Reese whispered.

"Something ahead, looks like a body."

"Is it a Borg?"

"It didn't look like one."

"Could be someone in need of our help."

They peered around the corner, no Borg, but there was a an officer, a woman laying across the floor. They approached her slowly. There was signs of a struggle. Broken pieces of machinery. Farther down the hall they saw the body of a dead Borg with a metal scrap deep in it head. The woman appeared to be uncontentious. Reese felt her arm for a pulse.

"She's alive, we should get her to sick bay."

There was no sign of Borg implants, but two small holes could be seen on her neck.

"Reese!" Fissual said pointing at the scars on her neck.

"I know, but I've been walking around with these two scars just like these on my neck for the past half an hour and I haven't felt any different. She is injured and we need to help her."

"Guess we're going to sick bay after all." Fissual said agreeing without actually saying 'yes'. He was still a little uneasy about her and the possibility of her being a Borg, but he trusted Reese and they  scooped her up gently and began their new journey to sick bay.

[iceman]

Dr. Peterson strummed his fingers rhythmically on the table, it was quite obvious that he was slightly annoyed by the timing of this impromptu meeting, even though he understood why it was called.

He was as concerned as everyone was about the presence of the Borg on the Arabella. His hate for the Borg ran deep as they were responsible for taking his family away from him, and this meeting had taken him away from his primary duty on this ship which was to care for the dying and injured and to save as many people as he could.

Sevryl had seen this look of urgency before from the doctor and she knew that the meeting would have to start soon or he would excuse himself from the meeting in order go back to the operating room and continue his work. She would of course not stop him and knew the only reason he was here was because he was if nothing else, a dedicated starfleet officer.

Sevryl also knew that if the crew was to get through this he would be needed back in sickbay as soon as possible.

[Rico]

As the rest of the senior staff began meeting about their situation, Lieutenant Zremm tried to get comfortable in the center seat.  He had never desired command in any way.  Partly this was due to his more scientific and logical mind, but it was also slightly born of fear.  There had been Andorians he knew that had allowed the power of command to control them and in some cases it had destroyed their lives.  Zremm had no intention of letting that happen to himself.  He now had a woman he loved and a child on the way.  And that was where his priority rested.  But he did wonder occasionally what things would have been like if he had followed a different path - lived a different type of life.  He had a feeling he might not care for that version of himself.

"Status report on the Borg Sphere?"  Zremm called out to the OPS station.

"Still in pursuit sir, but falling slightly further behind us.  The asteroid maneuver seems to be letting us gain a little breathing room."  Petty Officer Rava Ronan replied from his station.

"Very good, continue evasive maneuvers when needed and keep me informed of any change in distance.  We need to have a good lead on them when we come out of this mess."  Zremm said as he got up and wandered the bridge.  Sitting down at the moment just didn't quite seem right.  Just as he circled to the tactical station his comm badge chirped.  He immediately recognized the voice.

"Engineering to bridge."  A very familiar female voice called out as he tapped his badge.

"Zremm here.  What's our status Ensign?"  Zremm said trying very hard to stick to the business at hand.

"Ensign Barton reporting in, sir."  Marie said with a slight inflection that Zremm knew was suppressing a small laugh.  She knew very well how Zremm felt about command.

"Go ahead Ensign - how are those shields coming?"  He asked.

"I've got them to 75%, lieutenant.  The Borg destroyed a few more logic circuits when they tried to adapt their technology to ours.  Once those are replaced and we recalibrate the Arabella should be good to go - or at least protect herself."  Ensign Marie Barton reported.

"Excellent work, Ensign.  Please keep me updated on any new developments.  Zremm out."  He said as he closed the channel.  Of course, what he really wanted to do and say to Marie would have to come later.  When they were alone - when the current crisis was handled.  He continued to pace the bridge and hoped that the senior staff came up with a plan to get them out of this situation.

[Bryancd]

K'arath barged into the conference room with all the grace of a Targ at a child's birthday party. He wore his normal duty uniform, the gold material around his shoulder was smudged and filthy as were his hands and face. He was covered in the fluids form the sips bio-gel packs and had clearly spent the past hour crawling through conduits. His skin was still black from his away mission alterations which managed to hide the filth on his face.
Dr. Peterson looked up and gave a sly half smile. "Good of you to dress for the occasion." he said.
K'arath cocked his head to one said and chose to ignore the sarcasm. He knew what the Doctor had been through after being in sickbay during the incursion. "Doctor." he said in respectful acknowledgement. He knew Peterson was as anxious to return to his post as he was.
K'arath turned towards Sevryl. "Captain," he said, seeing how the use of the formal title made the Vulcan somewhat uncomfortable. "We have managed to stabilize all main systems and have removed all Borg technology. Damage control teams are continuing the ship wide repairs in areas still under our influence, but any Borg presence on board may quickly change that status."
Sevryl nooded. "Thank you for your report, Commander."
"Also, " K'arath continued,"I would like to request additional manpower to be assigned Main Engineering to replace..." he paused, "to support those that are left. Ensign Fissual is a new member of my team and I need him now."

[X]

Aeric watched quietly as the crew assembled for the impromptu meeting. There was so much going on in his mind that he needed that silence to gather his thoughts.

"James to security. Please dispatch a team to Councilor Margon's quarter and assess the situation. The area is unsecure and might have hostiles." Aeric said as he tapped his combadge and received their reply before turning his attention to the senior staff.

"Thank you all for arriving so promptly. I know that we are still missing a few key people, but we need to have this meeting so that we might quickly get back to our jobs," Aeric said as he rose and moved towards the wall display. "The Borg might have caught us off guard with their attack, but the predecessor class to this ship has stopped more than one Borg incursion."

"We have been on the defensive for too long and that has cost us. We are not going to let the Borg go any further on this ship. We need to come up with plans to not only repair the ship, but to stop the ship in pursuit of us."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "Due to the errors of the location system, we have no idea as to how many people were abducted or even who was abducted. Given the time location and previous position of crew in relation to the initial incursion, I estimate that they had only access to between ten and sixteen crew members. We need to work on disabling the sphere instead of destroying it because our people are still there. Assimilated or not, these are members of Star Fleet and there have been too many cases of people being successfully retrieved from the Collective for us to kill our own people. We have killed too many of our own family this day. It needs to end."

"I know that there are a lot of ideas that many of you have come up with in the middle of this crisis. Let's see if we can refine them and turn them into plans that we as a crew can carry out. We also need to be aware that the longer that we have to deal with the Borg, the colder the trail to Captain Quinn gets."

Aeric pressed a few keys on the panels that highlighted the damaged systems in various shades to indicate the level of damage and the importance of the system. "Where should we begin?"

[iceman]

Dr. Peterson looked at Aeric James and said I have a suggestion I don't know how feasible it is , but it might be worth looking into,

Perhaps replicating some of the nanobots that you and Aria possess might help us treat some of our borgified crewmembers and get them up on their feet much quicker, I would also request for some nonessential crew members to help move non life threatening patients out of sickbay to the afterburner as well as a couple of security crew if you can spare them with some extra phasers.

Although, my staff is trained in combat we are not security officers, we are doctors and nurses, and although sickbay is secure now, if it falls then we our in deep trouble as we our the only ones who can save our crew and patch up the wounded to keep fighting and defending our ship.

We are all tired I know, but if we can get a few more crewmembers and security officers my staff can concentrate on the wounded and get them out of sickbay quicker instead of having to divide my staff by having them do policing duties as well.

As you all know, as important as this meeting here is, me being here, is impeding the progress of dealing with the wounded as I was pulled out of surgery to be here, Just as all of you were pulled out of your duties.

Saving our borgified crew will require additional security especially if they get out of hand and I suggest we start with any security and command personal who have fallen victim to the Borg as we will need them.

Dr. Peterson stopped and waited for Aeric to respond to his suggestions and requests for additional staff. Dr Peterson hoped he would get some additional help as he was extremely swamped in sickbay and short a doctor with the accidental death of Ryla Drett.

[institches]

Ensign Spring Farmer, respendantly indigo in her native Terr'Ossic guise, staggered under the burden of the injured human engineer. She was petite, and whip-cord thin, but 112 pounds was still 112 pounds. Her head lolled onto Mackie's shoulder and she moaned in pain. "Mackie?"

Mackie used her free hand to claw open the false blue skin disguising the gill-slits beneath her jaw. She emitted more of the anesthetic scent, lacing it with calming endorphins, using the natural talent of her species. She wished she could remove the uncomfortable gland covers over her ribcage to stregthen the odor, but the laced bodice was more than she could manage now. Her re-opened gill-slits would have to do. Her enhanced comm-badge translated the odors she used for communication, and spewed calming sounds. "It's all right. Just keep moving your feet. We're on deck 5, almost to sick-bay."

Unaltered Fertillians had gill-slits on either side of their noses, but Mackie had opted for cosmetic relocation, moving the slits down to her neck. Her usual blond wig, disguising a lack of ears (and hair), had been replaced with implanted pale blue candy-floss hair as part of her native disguise for the previous mission. She had been rather enjoying it, and the accompanying pointed ears, before the attack had made cosmetic considerations unimportant. Now the hair was matted with the teenager's blood.

Scalp wound, thought Mackie. Most species bleed a lot from head wounds. It's not as bad as it looks. Just keep her conscious. The injury didn't smell dire. Not yet, anyway.

"Talk to me, Ginny." Normally this would have been an unneccessary injunction, considering Ginny's mile-a-miute verbal style, but this injury had slowed her down.

"Unh?"

Specifics. Ask for specifics. "Tell me about your brother. Umm, where is he?" She kept moving.

"Nakota? He's on Mars... colony." She took a breath through her nose. "He's.. a..." She muttered something unintelligible.

It smelled like fresh-baked cookies to Mackie. "He's a what?"

Ginny whimpered slightly then surpised Mackie with a lop-sided smile. "He's a... he's a brat."

[ElfManDan]

As they walked Reese tried to get Fissual to talk about his past, but nothing seemed to be able to get him to speak. Reese gave up and let Fissual be. They continued on silently. Fissual thought to himself of all the torment he had gone through. He didn't want to relive that. He couldn't let himself relive that. He didn't know how Reese would respond if he tried talking about it. Reese could be just like the others. Fissual tried not to think about it. He began looking around focusing his attention elsewhere. The wall, the floor, the injured girl. He then noticed something on her face, behind her hair. Hefocused in on that spot, it was a Borg implant emerging from within her skin.

"Reese, I think she has been infected by the Borg."

"All the more reason she needs our help." Reese replied.

"Reese, Borg can't be change back as far as I know," Fissual paused thinking, "least not easily and not without later repercussion."

"We not leaving her." Reese's mind was made up.

"I wasn't talking about leaving her."

"We're not going to kill her, I've heard of lots of Borg that have been revived, besides she's not all gone, only a few implants showing.

"Implants are inside, there is no way to tell how bad it is."

"Then we get her to sick bay and find out."

"What if she comes to before we get there, she'll go strait to killing us both."

"I think we need to take that chance, Fiss."

"Ok, but if she goes Borg on us, we put her down."

"Last option, only then do we..." Reese paused he didn't like that option under any circumstance, "you know."

"I just hope you'll be ready if and when the time comes, Dave." Fissual just wanted his friend to be safe and understand the magnitude of their situation like he did, but the Borg was seemingly driving them away. Fissual began hoping for any possible excuse to get away from the abomination they were aiding.

[wraith1701]

In the briefing room, K'Tan made a conscious effort to put aside the grief and anger he was feeling and to focus on the matter at hand.  At the front of the room, Commander James concluded his summary of the situation.  It all boiled down to three objectives-- Repair the Arabella, somehow stop the Borg Sphere that was pursuing them, and retrieve their missing crewmates.

"Where should we begin?", James said, gesturing towards the ship's master system's display.
 
Naturally concerned with saving the infected crew members, Dr. Peterson spoke up.  "Perhaps replicating some of the nanobots that you and Aria possess might help us treat some of our borgified crewmembers and get them up on their feet much quicker?"

K'Tan's eyebrow quirked; the Doctor brought up an interesting point.  As Peterson continued, K'Tan thought of a quote by the famous Klingon strategist L'Mond-- "In battle, he who learns to uses one bat'leth to vanquish multiple foes will emerge the victor."

As Peterson concluded, K'Tan gave the Doctor a nod of respect.  "Dr. Peterson brings up a good point," he said.  "Perhaps we can use these Nano-Bots to achieve several goals at once."

He stood to address the gathered officers.  "I remember reading back in the academy about an ensign on the Enterprise-D who used crude Nanobots for repair work.  Would it be possible to replicate your nanites, as Dr. Peters suggests, and program them to identify the borg's signature?  And could they be programmed to attack anything bearing that signature?"

K'Tan's gestures became more animated as the idea took form in his head.

"Kind of like the way that human white blood cells detect and destroy foreign objects in the bloodstream.  The nanites could act as the Arabella's own army of white blood cells; attacking the areas of the ship damaged by the borg and repairing them.  Perhaps we could even employ this same tactic with our infected crew members, using the nanites to attack their implants while repairing any damaged tissue.  If we can divert enough energy to the replicators, perhaps we can even flood the ship with the nanites, and let them attend any crewmen or areas of the ship that we might miss."

K'Tan slammed a fist into his palm with a solid smack.  "And if we are able to introduce these into the sphere itself, think of the damage they might cause!  Granted, the Borg would eventually adapt to the nanites, perhaps even incorporate them into their own structure, but the attack just might shut them down for a few minutes.  We can use those minutes to try and retrieve any crew members they may have abducted."

[Meds]

D'Callan tappeed the last instructions for the security team with his fingers as he concentrated on K'Tans word. Once he finished he walked forward and passed the acting captains chair. He looked down at her and nodded. Sevryll looked up at him.

"We have help as well Commander, Dennis is in the main components of our ship. So far he has not only helped me dodge the Borg but he has helped K'Arath and the rest of engineering secure the decks. He has the best advantage point we could possibly ask for, inside the ship itself"

D'Callan brushed passed Sevrylls chair and he suddenly remember the information Theran had given him and something regarding Dennis clicked in his mind.

[Meds]

Sevryll's eyebrow raised slightly at hearing Dennis's name.

"Continue Lt D'Callan"

Joseph walked to the monitor.

" Dennis has been helping in engineering with k'Ararth and Took. He has an idea regarding our Borg problem. Basically his plan is to power down the Borg alcoves. If we can cut power from them then they simply cannot power back up."

Turning to look at the monitor D'Callan addressed the blank screen.

"Dennis you with us mate?"

The blank screen suddenly burst into life and words came onto the screen.

ITS NICE TO BE BACK IN CONVERSATION. I HAVE MONITORED ALL BORG ACTIVITY. WE NEED TO GET THEM INTO THEIR ALCOVES AND ONCE THEY ARE THERE WE CAN THEN POWER DOWN ALL THE ENERGY.

D'Callan turned to the other officers and moved away so they could all see the information that Dennis began to show.

[moyer777]

Joint post by institches and moyer777



Upon entering sickbay, a wave of varying sights and smells assaulted Mackie's senses. She concentrated on Ginny, helping her to lie down on the floor out of the walkway. She stood, searching for an available medic.  There was the Borg stench, of course: partially necrotic tissues blended with all variety of machine smells. The smell of fear, of calm barely masking distress. She could help here. She emitted the same calming scent she had used for Ginny, and began to unlace the constricting bodice in order to remove the gland covers she used to tone down the emissions so clearly needed now.

That was when it hit her: Ryla's scent, like fresh laundry and ginger, free of the symbiont's own scent, fading into ashes. Ryla was dead. And the symbiont was no more, erased. Her two dearest friends...

The Fertillian view of death was different than that of most species: there was no belief in an afterlife, no memorials, no grieving. Just a pragmatic expectation that people would die; new friendships would spring up to replace the old ones.

But Ryla and Drett, her symbiont, had been special to Mackie in a way she had never experienced on her home planet. They had been closer than family. Drett spoke to her in a way that couldn't be communicated with anyone else, even Ryla herself. It was as though a part of Mackie was gone.

She stumbled out of sickbay, needing to escape the death-smell of Ryla. You have a job to do, she told herself, as she moved down the corridor. Find the injured, defend the ship, do what you can.

She shifted into a jog and soon found herself jumping over a deactivated drone, one servomotor still working in a leg. Two steps beyond it was the door to Margon's counseling office. The door was rhythmically opening and shutting, catching on a foot that protruded into the hallway. A Borg foot. Attached to a Borg leg. She cautiously approached, smelling the cherry popsicle smell she attached to Margon, the white electricity of feral panic, and the Borg, of course.

The Borg lay prone, assimilation tubules still jutting from its gray hand but unmoving. She stomped on the delicate tubules, crushing them.

Next to the Borg lay Margon. He, too, was still in native disguise. His features were now a curious blend of artificial Ter'Ossic red blending in places with the dead Borg gray, and the angry dark blue bruising that characterized Bolian skin. His round little stomach belied his quick breathing.

The feline panic smell was still fresh, but somewhat dampened with her presence. She sent out the smell of rich cream, sweet clover, and sun-warmed fur to calm Margon's cat, Mr. Mouse. She kept the smell going as she attended to the counselor.

She rolled him onto his back and breathed into his face. "Margon!" One eye was gone, replaced with a dark mechanical enhancement. She stared as she realized the reason for the bruising. A tiny Borg implant manifested itself on the counselor's cheek, unfolding into a flowery metalized spider. It then trembled and fell away, the counselor's skin showing a bruise where the implant had been rejected.

"Margon!" She emitted a short burst of an ammonia-like smell, hoping to break through the counselor's trance.

In the silence of his mind, Margon struggled to make sense out of the strange order that had overcome him.  At the same time he felt himself fighting it.  It wasn't natural.  A strange smell woke him to see Spring Mackie Farmer crouching next to him.  Only one of his eyes would open. The other eye stung and in it he had no vision at all.  He tried to get out words, but they weren't forming quickly enough. 

Spring spoke soothingly to Margon as one by one the borg technology began to exit his body.  For a moment the newly grown Borg eyeball that was covered by a black metalic laser type structure moved.  It rolled in the socket and then simply popped out.  The sound startled Mr. Mouse who shot across the room and batted the mechanical ball to the other side of the room. 

It was then that Margon smiled and pushed himself up off the floor.  "Darn, I probably could have used that!" 

"We need to get you to sick bay Counselor." she said and grapped him around the waist. 

The two officers made their way to the door, but not before Mr. Mouse ran under their feet and almost caused both of them to fall.  As if it couldn't get worse Spring smelled something odd.

Odd, but not threatening. Musk and chocolate, getting progressively stronger. She looked up just as two tiny marsupials dropped into her borrowed blue hair. Mackie noted with surprise the smell of contentment. The cluster of five organic lifeforms skirted the Borg corpses and headed for help.

[Jen]

Having received orders to locate Counselor Margon, Ensign Talon Bowers left his post on Deck Six and headed for the Bolian's quarters. Since his first encounter with the Borg, he had personally eliminated five drones and was functioning on a level of hyper-alertness. His tired blue eyes darted about nervously as he maneuvered towards the officer's cabin. He was numb with remorse and with fear of the inevitable consequences. Do they know? No, of course they don't. If they did, they wouldn't have sent me after the Counselor... But maybe the situation is such that all personnel, regardless of whether they inadvertently shot an unarmed medical officer or not, are required to secure the ship. Yes...they know what I did... How could they not?

He swallowed  hard as the image of the dying woman, being rushed passed him, slipped into his thoughts like an invading nightmare. Stepping out of the turbolift, he paused in the corridor to lean wearily against the bulkhead. His heart pounded like a hammer in his chest and the palms of his hands had begun to sweat. He shifted the rifle in his hands as he wiped them on his duty trousers.  This was the first time he'd been alone to think about what happened...the first chance he had to think about what he had done. The tall, dark haired Terran closed his eyes tightly in an attempt to squeeze the vision from his thoughts—but to no avail. A second later, and he was back in the Afterburner.

The sounds of panicked screams, Borg servos and intermittent phaser-fire filled his ears. He could smell the electricity in the air as drones short-circuited after being struck by energy beams. The room was dark, and he did not have the proper equipment—the equipment he needed to separate enemy from friend.

Talon pounded the back of his head against the wall in the corridor, as the scene continued to play out in his mind. The Afterburner was dark. Yet when the room was lit with phaser fire, he could see clearly. His eyes focused on two forms at the far end of the lounge; a drone attacking a child.  The light in the room quickly dimmed, and then brightened again as his fellow security officers fired at other drones.  Within that nanosecond of illumination, he witnessed a frantic woman defending the small boy. Again, the room faded to black, before the bright light of phasers lit the area once more. It was then he saw the woman being tossed aside by the drone. From his position near the entrance of the lounge, Talon lined up his shot. The Afterburner was dark again. He waited for another flash of light and squeezed a pulse from his rifle to fire at the drone. As his own phaser blast flashed within the room, he saw the woman fall again.  Talon's tortured shout filled the empty corridor and he slammed his head against the wall in anger and frustration, "Ahhhhagh!!!!" The drone had escaped with the boy, and he had shot an innocent bystander. I saw her being tossed aside an instant before! She couldn't have gotten up so quickly after that! He opened his eyes just as Spring Farmer rounded the corner with Margon leaning heavily upon her. At first, the security officer was taken back by the odd appearance of their Ter'Ossick disguises, and he reflexively raised the barrel of his rifle. Mackie froze in place as the Counselor raised his pale gaze to meet Talon's wild-eyed expression. The Fertillian wasted no time in emitted a calming sent, and watched as Ensign Bowers lowered the weapon. " A little help here?" she grunted as she shifted the Counselor's weight under her small frame.

--------------

Why is Dennis in the Mainframe?! Something horrible has happened! Sevryll was certain of it.  She fought the urge to ask Dennis where the twins were. She could not ask. Not there. Not during the briefing. She may not be capable of containing whatever emotion would pour out after hearing the hologram's account of whatever had happened. Instead, Sevryll forced her expression to remain placid, swallowed down the fear and thanked him for his assistance. "Both proposals sound promising. Which one will ensure the quickest and most effective result?"

[Geekyfanboy]

Quinn paced back and forth in the assimilation chamber. The Borg had erected some sort of damping field around the chamber that made Nathan's telepathy useless.  He was truly alone; no voices in his head only his terrified thoughts of what was coming. Suddenly he heard some footsteps as three Borg approached the entrance to the chamber. They proceeded to walk through the force field and over to Quinn. As they approached, Nathan backed up looking for something he could use for a weapon, but there was nothing. Quinn noticed that one of the Borg was Nicholas Took and a stab of pain could be felt in his heart. Nathan had to keep telling himself that this was not his Nic, his Nic was safe on the Arabella.  The three spoke in unison. "Captain Nathaniel Jacob Quinn, lie down on the table, prepare for assimilation" Quinn looked around hoping for something, anything "Resistance is Futile"

Borg Took grabbed Nathan by the arm and forced him over to the table. Quinn struggled as they strapped him down.  Nathan reached out with his mind and tried to communicate with Took, but it was no use there was no individual there only the collectives. Then Quinn heard in his own mind. "It is useless Captain Quinn, he is mine as you soon will be," came the voice of Locutus.  Nathan could hear the three Borgs preparing to assimilate him.  He looked into Nicolas' eyes one last time before the Borg raised his right arm to Nathan's neck and inserted the tubes to inject the Borg Nanites. It was a strange feeling as Quinn could feel the nanites coursing through his blood steam.

Suddenly there was a loud explosion coming from outside the assimilation chamber and several people entered through the blown out wall. Quinn could hear phaser fire and loud explosions but wasn't able to move, just before Quinn passed out he heard one of the men say "Take this one, he has just been assimilated, Doctor Margon will be very pleased with us..." then there was darkness.

[Jen]

ACT II : The Mirror Universe

Post by Jen

The Mêlée class frigate was the only ship in the Emperor's fleet that the ruler himself traveled upon. The flagship was painted blood red, and bore the name Tiberius on the saucer section's hull plating. Above the designation rested the emblem of the Empire—a dagger plunged into the heart of the planet Earth, which was the seat of power in three quadrants and the core of his domain. The vessel was a reflection of his supremacy and the embodiment of his dominance.  Like the Emperor, the battleship assailed its enemies with ferocity, evoking fear within the hearts of even the most valiant dissenters.

Emperor Locke sat within his quarters on the frigate, staring at the battle being waged outside his viewport. He was a calculating and brutal man—the son of a wealthy merchant. But his bloodline was also saturated with the DNA of warriors. David's ingenious concepts and his ability sell them to others, blended with his athletic prowess to create the ultimate sovereign. Yet, like all legendary leaders, he had his weakness...and like most men, that weakness was a woman.

She was seated beside him, speaking low in his ear. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of her breath. David Locke could have any female that struck his fancy, but Sevryll was the only one that made his heart leap. It had not mattered that she was the wife of his best friend. He could simply rewrite the law and the Vulcan would be his. But years of observation told David that her spirit would prevent her from submitting to such an obvious manipulation. He had to be subtle and patient in his efforts to win her.

Her husband had been a general in the Emperor's army, and it pained him to lose such a noble warrior and loyal friend, but David's lust for his comrade's wife moved him to strike like a snake. He ordered the man on a suicide mission against the Borg, five years prior. Sevryll was free of her husband and under the Emperor's care for three years, before she finally agreed to become his mistress. Yet her heart never truly belonged to him. A deep depression kept it from his grip, despite his attempts to earn her affection.

A year after she became the Emperor's Mistress, the Vulcan woman learned of his dark deed. A shadowy figure detailed the David's twisted scheme to eliminate her husband, two years before. The informant's sole intent was to recruit Sevryll as a spy, which was not as difficult as the handler thought.  The Vulcan was all to willing, and over time, she learned to fake an affection for the man she loathed... but not for her handler's cause. Sevryll had but one desire—to take David Locke apart from the inside out, for the pain he caused her.


Listening for voices, Joseph D'Callan waited in the corridor outside of the Emperor's room. The low mummer of a woman's alto could be heard through door. The arch interrogator had an interest in the mistress as well, but it wasn't her beauty that inspired his curiosity. He had always been suspicious of Mistress Sevryll. D'Callan believed it was foolish of the Emperor to take the wife of a former general. Regardless of friendships, military leaders were also driven by power. It had always been Joseph's assumption that General Tevian was quietly plotting against he Emperor, and it was likely Tevian's former wife shared those aspirations. Joseph furrowed his brow, "surely the Emperor had more reason than just the woman, to send the General to his death. Perhaps he wasn't the only one who suspected the Vulcan man of treason."

The battle rumbled through the deck plates, dragging D'Callan from his thoughts. "YES?!" came a roar from within the Emperor's quarters.

The door opened just as the Vulcan stood from her place at the ruler's side. She nodded curtly at D'Callan. His eyes seemed to follow her everywhere she went and she despised him for it. She smoothed her blue, formfitting suit and pushed a long strand of raven hair behind one ear. D'Callan watched her lean close and whisper to Emperor. The arch interrogator strained to hear, but only picked up on the words "Peters" and "mind-meld". Locke smiled up at her, "I agree. It would be a more effective means of gathering information from him. You have my permission." Sevryll bent to give the Emperor a deep kiss, and as she did, she titled her head and fired a scowl at the interrogator, which prompted him to advert his eyes.  He glanced back a few times waiting for the lengthy show of affection to come to an end. When it finally did, the Emperor dismissed her and the woman moved with a deliberate sway past D'Callan...keeping her intense glare locked on his own. The door hissed opened and the Vulcan disappeared into the corridor. The ship rumbled in unison with the Emperor's booming voice. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?!"


----

Joint post by Meds and Jen


Emperor Locke was seated with his back to the door. His cold blue eyes were focused on the random bursts of light, which erupted within the black void beyond his viewport—his ship had entered the battle.  At the sound of shuffling, he turned his broad shoulders to face the interrogator and grumbled an irritated curse as he noted D'Callan presence. With a dismissive smirk, he turned back to the spectacle of battle.

The interrogator lifted his head; his black hair dropped around his pale face and circled his red bloodshot eyes. "I apologize for the interruption Emperor... and I assure you, if my visit was of no importance I would not have risked angering you."

"Get on with it then."

It appears, Emperor, that Margon is becoming somewhat over enthusiastic when it comes to his 'little tests'. His manners appear to have escaped him, as I have not had chance to welcome our most recent visitor."

"The Borg are not visitors, D'Callan. They are enemies... and the purpose of Margon's tests, are of no consequence to you.  Yet, so that you no longer concern yourself with the welfare of our 'guests', I will gladly bring you up to speed." Sarcasm dripped off his words like blood from a curved and rusty blade. He paused to let them soak in before continuing.  "Our twisted Blue Bolian is attempting to reprogram the captured drones as soldiers of the Empire, and he assures me that he is nearing success. If you were allowed to have the prisoners first, I would gain nothing but more stinking bodies to eject from the airlock."

The Emperor's back was still turned, and D'Callan knew he could easily plunge a dagger into it, but he had nowhere to go to escape the wrath of the imperial henchmen. He sneered instead and carefully replied, "but the man he tests now is not a drone. He is a human... a human who was freed from the Central Alcove of the Borg King's vessel. I am certain he has information vital to our cause, and yet Margon is..."

"ENOUGH." The Emperor's booming voice rattled within the room. "You will quietly wait your turn, Interrogator."

"Yes, Emperor." D'Callan worked his jaw in frustration and continued, "and what of Peters? He is my prisoner, and yet I just heard you turn him over to Sevryll. Why?"

David slowly stood and turned slightly to look down at D'Callan over one shoulder, "Because she asked for him. That is all the answer you need. Do not question it again or Margon will have an interrogator as his next lab animal."
D'Callan bowed and spun quickly on his heal to leave the Emperor's room. Sevryll was up to something, and he would prove it."

Nathan Quinn found himself within another dark chamber...yet this one was cold.  The only lights came from directly above him and he squeezed his eyes shut against their harshness. He turned his head to the side and opened them again. The parameter surrounding his metal lab table was filled with transparent containers holding the gruesome body parts of various Borg Drones; the implants still glowed eerily within the yellow solution, they were submerged in.
Nathan's heart pounded and his ears focused on mysterious noises that stabbed from the darkness. After a moment, they pinpointed and identified the distinct sound of boots against a metal floor. Just out of his line of site, Doctor Margon circled him like a predator.

"I trust I am not disturbing you DOCTOR?" Said a hoarse voice from the other side of the room. Startled, Nathan's head rolled in the direction of the voice in a futile attempt to locate it's vendor. He heard the footsteps halt, then a scuffing sound as the man called "Margon" pivoted to address the voice.

"What are you doing in my lab, D'Callan? Are you volunteering for something? Perhaps you've decided to donate your body to science?"

"You are beginning to try my patience, Margon," hissed the voice.  I feel it necessary to remind you of your position aboard this ship. Any packages that come aboard must be delivered to me first. No matter how pathetic they may appear."
Margon laughed, "the Emperor has authorized all my procedures... you have no influence here."


" I trust that the package here has not yet been spoiled by your pathetic attempts at research...Doctor. That title does not suit you. Butcher would be more fitting, I believe."

Margon snapped back at D'Callans cool calm words.

"DO be careful D'Callan, or you may find an appendage in one of my jars you...."
Before Margon could finish his sentence the gloved hand had grasped his neck and he had just enough time to see the glint of a cold silver scalpel breeze his chin.

"Another word from you DOCTOR Margon, and your head will be added to my own macabre collection. Finish your useless experiment and send him to the interrogation room...alive and in one piece." He let Margon go, and watched him step backwards. He was impressed that the Bolian had not once taken his eyes off his own. "I'll have Mr Dunn come and collect him when you're finished."

D'Callan slipped into the darkness. The light from the corridor spilled into the dark room, indicating his absence. Margon wiped the blood from his chin and in a fit of rage flung a jar containing a Borg arm to the floor. He would have to limit his plans for the man he had on the table, for D'Callan was favored by the Emperor and he would not risk the wrath of his ruler.