Blood of Heroes, Part VIII

[Sonnenburg]

There was no mistaking Col. Deltone's look as he read through the datapad; Jorri had seen it dozens of times during her assignment to his command. That telltale frown, the attempt to appear neutral, those eyes... still, Jorri stood her ground. "It's not a very good time for this," he finally remarked.

"I understand, sir," she replied. "But he's my husband; I can't abandon him now, sir."

"I know, although it seems that he abandoned us."

Jorri leaned forward, her knuckles resting on the desk. "Senator Alixus is a slippery traitor who only remains in office because of her ability to dodge the truth. Bastian would never have done something like this; never!" Deltone cast his gaze down to her hands on his desk, but she refused to budge. "If I'm the only person left in the galaxy who believes that, then it's all the more reason why I have to be there."

Deltone took a deep breath through his nose, then picked up the datapad again. "Capt. Relam is up to date, I assume?"

"Jon is always on top of things," she said with a nod. He passed her back the datapad; it had "Two Week Pass" imprinted over her name, with the colonel's signature. "I'll make up for the lost time," she promised.

"I hope so," he said as neutrally as possible. "You're a good pilot and effective leader, but frankly I wish you were a man. It'd save me a lot of headaches."

"Sorry, sir."

"But you're worth every one," he said, finally warming up just a little. "I hope you're right about him, I really do."

"Thank you, sir," she said, then tucked the datapad under her arm and walked out. She had her bunkmate pack her things for her to expedite the trip; within half an hour she was on a shuttle heading for the wormhole.

It was never an issue of hope for Jorri. She knew her husband, and more than just what his character was. This assassin wasn't him; he didn't move right to be Bastian, and the way he responded to the attack was all wrong. Bastian wouldn't have gotten mad, he would have gotten even more controlled, aloof. For Jorri, it was practically a wonder that anyone could think this impostor was her husband.

Jorri took a deep, steadying breath as she pulled back on the hyperdrive controls. This wasn't how I wanted to do this, Bastian, she thought. But I guess we both have to take what we've been given.
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Dr. Bashir looked at the tricorder with the same expression that all doctors have used throughout history. It was a kind of frown, showing a mix of contemplation and disappointment, one that is always used whether there is good or bad news. It’s not without reason skilled poker players are usually nicknamed “Doc.”

Still, the lines were a little deeper, the expression a little more downcast. Annika lay on the bed as he ran the device over her one more time. “Is it that bad?” she asked.

“Worse,” he said. He closed the tricorder up. “Unless the Borg give us the cure, I don’t see any alternative but admitting you to a hospital.”

“No,” Annika said without a moment’s pause.

“Your condition is continuing to deteriorate,” Bashir said.

“I’m aware of that. But I have too much to do to lie in a hospital.”

“The only thing you’re going to do is collapse and die,” he said in frustration. “Denial isn’t going to make this go away!”

“Like I said, I’m aware of that. But I’m not going to just lie in the hospital and wait to die, not while I can try to stop whatever else Nom Anor is up to. This mess with Alixus is only further proof of that.”

“You’re being stubborn.”

“Damn right.”

“Fine,” Bashir said irritably as he closed up his medkit. “I can’t force you to seek treatment. But sooner or later this is going to go beyond what I can do, and then what? Do we just let you lie here in an unconscious heap?”

“If it gets that bad, do what you have to, but right now, while I still have the strength to move, I move. We’re going to bring this Vong down even if it’s the death of me.”

Han came up the ramp before the subject could continue, although both knew which side he’d come down on if he became involved. “Anything?” she asked.

“A lead,” he said. “There’s word of a Borg settlement on an archipelago in the Southern Sea that might point us in the right direction.”

“A Borg settlement on Sanctuary isn’t unusual,” Annika pointed out.

“No, but it seems that this group is a bit more isolationist than most. They don’t even answer communications most of the time.”

“Is it safe?” Bashir asked.

“No less than anywhere else we’ve been,” Han said with a shrug. “But you’re right, this probably isn’t going to be pretty. That’s why I’m taking the Falcon in; if we need to get out of there, I want something that can put a couple of light-years between us and them if it comes down to it.”
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Leia's every waking moment was dedicated to holding the bitterly divided Empire together, and Sebastian had been placed in a holding cell to mollify his accusers for the time being. That left only Jacen, Jaina, and Anakin for the discussion of what exactly would be their next step. With the Emperor gone they would no longer be seeking guidance from him; they were on their own.

It was Jacen who had called for this meeting, and Anakin had a feeling what it was going to be about. His older brother always had been a little too sure of himself, and Anakin was betting he was going to appoint himself to decide what kind of work the three of them would engage in. But even Anakin's suspicions hadn't prepared him for Jacen's revelation.

"I've meditated on this a great deal," Jacen said, "and I think there's only one thing we can do." He took a deep breath. "We need to rebuild the Jedi Order."

The other's looked at one another, suspicious of what it meant. "You aren't suggesting what I think you're suggesting," Anakin asked.

"We'd need to have some way of training more Jedi," Jaina said. "And we don't."

"That's right," Jacen said. "So we'll have to start one. We'll have to start training Jedi."

"No," Anakin said without hesitation. "We can't. None of us have a strong enough understanding of the Force-"

"I realize that this isn't an ideal solution," Jacen said. "But what's the alternative? Allow the Jedi to die out with us?"

"We wait until we are ready to start training others," Anakin said. "If we rush into things, we'll only make things worse."

"I understand if you don't feel ready," Jacen said. "Jaina and I have been Jedi for longer than you. We don't know everything there is to possibly know about the Force, but we know enough to help force potentials learn to harness their powers and put them on the light path."

"That's arrogant," Anakin said frankly. "Obi-Wan was trained by the best and had the guidance of the Jedi Council to aide him, and even he wasn't up to training grandfather. How can you expect to succeed?"

"The Force will guide us," Jacen said. "We have to trust that."

"I don't like this idea very much," Jaina admitted. "But this Sith has gotten these people involved. I think we may have no choice in the matter but to help them learn how to use the Force."

"This is a mistake," Anakin said.

"Things are desperate," Jacen replied. "The Empire is now being thrown into chaos. The Jedi Order once existed to preserve the peace; we need it now more than ever."

"We'll have mom to fall back on if we need help," Jaina pointed out to Anakin. "We'll work through this."

"I'm not saying this is going to be easy," Jacen quickly added. "But you'll see that this will help ensure the survival of both us and the peace we've sworn to defend." Anakin just sat there; there was nothing more for him to say than he had already said. They would do this without him, if necessary. He only hoped this wasn't going to be as fatal a mistake as Obi-Wan's.
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The ocean zipped past the window as the Falcon came back out of orbit for its approach to the main island in the archipelago. As expected, there was a large settlement, complete with a series of landing platforms just outside. “Automated systems,” Han remarked as he signaled his desire to land. “Some things never change, I guess.”

“Any sign of weapons?” Bashir asked.

“No,” Han said. “But some kind of shield around the settlement. Not something I’m familiar with.”

Annika looked over the readings. “I have,” she said wearily.

“Borg stuff, huh?” Han remarked.

“Yes, similar to what we- they, used inside their ships. You two won’t be able to pass through.”

Han settled back into his pilot’s chair with his arms crossed. “I’m not to sure I like that.”

“Is there some way we can fool the shields into letting us through?” Bashir asked. “Perhaps with a tricorder.”

“Maybe, but it would be a bad idea. They may have some automated defenses in case of that scenario, or they might simply kill you out of xenophobic spite.”

“Then I’m not so sure you should go,” Han said.

“I can handle them if things turn ugly,” she said.

“No, you can’t,” Bashir said.

Annika glowered at him. “Fine, let’s bring in the stormtroopers. Then none of us will have anything to worry about.”

Annika had known just what to say. Bashir still despised the Empire, and Han was still upset over the mess on Deep Space 13. “Be careful,” he said, making it sound like an order.

“Naturally,” Annika replied. She strapped on the hold-out blaster she’d started using; she hadn’t been able to form a plasma gun in years. She made her way down the Falcon’s ramp and crossed the empty docking bay. She stopped before the shimmering energy barrier, then pushed through. Almost immediately three ex-drones were on hand, sporting disruptors and blasters. Annika had her blaster in her hand but pointed it away from them. “I need to talk to someone about Sebastian Skywalker.”

The male, Species 7109, nodded at her. “You’re Seven of Nine, Tertiar-“ He stopped as Annika held the blaster inches from his face.

“If you’ve any sense of self-preservation,” she growled, “you won’t finish that sentence.”

His eyes flitted down to the blaster for a moment. “She’s been waiting for you for a long time,” he said finally. “Put down your weapon and come with me.”

Annika glanced between the ex-drones for a moment, then with a flick of her wrist, was holding the blaster out butt-first. He took it and gestured for her to follow. There were ex-drones in all stages, from those that could nearly pass for normals, like herself, to ones that looked like something out of the nightmares she still sometimes had. The settlement was an odd marriage of lean-to shelters and advanced technology. Everywhere the people stopped what they were doing and watched her; she could tell it wasn’t idle curiosity. Gradually they worked to the main building, larger and sturdier than the others, which probably housed the power for the settlement and maintained the shield. She had a feeling she knew who she’d find inside; she was right.

“Annika,” the Queen said. She gestured for her to come in, and Annika noticed it was with a mechanical arm… to replace the one Luke cut off, she realized. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Annika glanced at the various ex-drones in the room, then returned her attention to the Queen. “Naturally. You did this to me, didn’t you.”

“We knew we needed some incentive for your family to cooperate,” the Queen replied.

“It wasn’t enough,” Annika said defiantly.

“Perhaps,” the Queen said. “But we can always hope. It’s all we have left.”

Annika nodded towards the crowd. “Even now you still speak for them?”

“I do what must be done,” the Queen replied. “As I always did to ensure the survival of my people.”

“Your people are gone,” Annika said harshly. “There are no more Borg.”

“That’s true,” the Queen admitted. “But I never claimed that’s what we are.”

“Then what are you?”

"The lost and forgotten,” the Queen replied. “We are the outcasts; the last vestiges of the Borg who cannot adapt to your way of life."

"Excuse me while I shed a tear," Annika said coldly.

The Queen looked at her with a mixture of contempt and disappointment. "You should," she said. "You are the lucky one, the hero because you turned your back on us."

"I earned their trust," Annika replied defiantly. "And I worked beside them as one of them, as an individual."

"As one of them?" the Queen replied. "Really? I look at your face and I wonder whether you were once an outcast as well."

"I was accepted-"

"Were you?" the Queen interrupted. "Were you really? Eidetic memory means we cannot forget, Annika, even if we want to."

Annika opened her mouth, but she couldn't reply. She did remember it all. The Caatati who wanted to torment and murder her out of a petty desire for revenge, just because she was Borg. The times when the Voyager crew referred to her as "our Borg," rather than as a human being. The stares of the cadets at Starfleet when they'd returned to Earth, looking her over like some specimen. The Tsunkatse, where she was simply a Borg to fight in the rings for the crowds amusement.

And Captain Picard, a man she'd come to admire, who when push came to shove, thought her nothing more than a Borg agent in the midst of battle. If even he, whom she always felt represented the best the human race had to offer, couldn't see past the implants, how could anyone?

"You landed in the best possible circumstances, Annika," the Queen said. "And even your path wasn't easy, was it? Imagine what it's been like for the rest of us, who have never known individuality, to awaken to this terrifying new experience. To be captured and put in camps for execution, or hunted for sport, or put on display in museums. The galaxy hates us, and you left us with no way to protect ourselves from that hatred."

"The Borg are hated with cause," Annika replied.

"And does that justify the treatment of ex-drones?" the Queen asked with fire in her voice.

Annika's gaze slipped over some of the brutalized faces that were looking up at her. Some reflected that hate, but there was no mistaking the signs of jealousy and envy. The occasional bar brawl, the odd looks, she really didn't know what these people had been through, had she. "I don't know what to tell you," she said finally.

"Tell me that you understand!" the Queen replied in exasperation. "That we have been abandoned in a galaxy that preaches tolerance and unity!" Annika was shocked at the hint of tears in the Queen's eyes. "Tell me there's a reason for our suffering! Tell me why the few are favored, while the many must live with the scorn of others! They fear us, flee us, try not to see us! Tell me there's a way to end this!"

"I'm sorry," Annika said, just above a whisper.

"That is why we have taken the measures we have, Annika," the Queen said. "We have hope now, a single, fragile hope. Our every thought is bent on it, because it is the only way we can endure our suffering without succumbing to despair. Without it, we are lost... it would have been better if we'd never been born."

"I can't do what you ask," Annika said. "If you were to somehow restore the Borg to what they once were, you would be a threat to millions of peaceful worlds."

"No," the Queen said. "We've seen where that path has led us. Instead we could devote ourselves to research and exploration. You know the propaganda about us only learning through assimilation is a lie. Imagine what we could do if we worked with the Empire.”

“I don’t have to imagine, I saw it.”

“You know what I mean,” the Queen said.

“I think it would be a fatal mistake,” Annika said. “And you’d have to be insane to think anyone would think otherwise.”

The Queen nodded a little, not really looking at Annika. “Maybe I am,” she said quietly. “But I have to believe that there’s a purpose behind this. There must be a reason that we have been allowed to endure our hardships.”

“No, there isn’t,” Annika said. “It’s been happening for millennia across the universe. All you’re feeling is a vestigial Borg desire to impose order on a chaos beyond your control.”

“I can’t believe that,” the Queen said. “There must be something more. Even if we are merely to die in the effort, we cannot have reached such heights and fall for no purpose.”

Annika half-shrugged. “I am no philosopher. Maybe it’s so you can share this cure with the galaxy?”

“No, it’s not,” the Queen said. “We fell to teach us the lesson of hubris. We won’t make the same mistake again.”

“That’s right, you won’t.”

“So you still refuse us?”

“Even if I believed in your cause, which I don’t, he’s my son. I would never give him up to you.”

“You hate us that much, you’d rather die?”

“I love him that much, I’d rather die,” Annika said. “If you’ll accept nothing else, then I’ll be on my way.”

“There is nothing else you could give us,” the Queen said.

Annika nodded. “Then I’ll show myself out.”

Annika turned to the drone who had led her in. He glanced at the Queen, who nodded at him. He handed her blaster back, and she slipped it onto her belt. She glanced at them one last time, then walked towards the door. Just before she reached it the Queen called out to her, and she turned, and she could see the pleading in her eyes. “Remember Annika: you made the outcasts... don’t cast us out.” Annika looked them over again, and then left.

[LordShaithis]

Yay!

MORE!

[Crazedwraith]

Up to your usual great standards Mr. Sonnenburg. I especiallly like the borg...ex-borg...whatever they are...

[Sonnenburg]

Thanks guys, I'm glad you're still reading.