Posted: 2005-07-01 08:33pm
General Delric Taar had been looking forward to a quiet retirement. He hadn't wanted to stay on in service at the Academy any more, not at his age. He certainly hadn't wanted to return to active service, nevermind to leading the Imperial war effort against the Vong invaders while trying to protect the Milky Way territories he'd worked so hard to acquire in his youth. But watching the footage of the disaster at Nellin was now definitely at the top of the list of things he hadn't wanted to do. Like all of them, he did it anyway.
Taar sighed despite himself. It was not a good thing to do when watching a crippling blow to the war effort unfold, but there comes a certain age when too much bad news exhausts the body, and Taar seemed to live life from exhaustion to exhaustion. "Let's cut to the bottom line," Taar said, freezing the image. "Are they Vong or not?"
There was a general clearing of throats. This ought to be good, Taar thought cynically. No one clears their throat for good news. "We don't know for sure," Commander Rhodes informed him. Rhodes had been put in charge of addressing the technical aspects of what happened. "They're bioships of some kind, that we know."
"The Milky Way is lousy for bioships," General Corbin pointed out.
"And nothing that's ever been a threat," Admiral Cirule said. "A bioship sounds nice, but it's hopelessly difficult to make it into a practical warship. Organics have advantages, but standing up to laser blasts isn't one of them."
"And the enemy we've been fighting the past few years?" Corbin asked with that infuriating tone of his. "Perhaps you'd like to explain it to them."
"Corbin, quit being an idiot and listen," Taar said, whose patience had run out months ago.
"I understand that the kind of biotechnology to achieve what the Vong have is absent from all the societies we've met," Cirule continued.
"Except for the aliens called Species 8472, sir," Commander Rhodes pointed out.
Taar grimaced at the memory of them. The Emperor had employed genetically modified versions as guards for a brief time after his return, and they'd always given him the willies. Thankfully they'd all been lost when Bastion was destroyed. "8472 is extinct, yes? We're sure of this?"
"I contacted the Borg, sir, and they assured me the species was completely assimilated."
"But clearly some survived the destruction of the Borg," General Hnial said.
"They lost everything," Rhodes explained, "including a way back into fluidic space. If they are still alive, they're no doubt in hiding somewhere trying not to have contact with us."
"Or trying to destroy us?" Admiral Hune asked.
"If Species 8472 went after anyone," Cirule said, "it would be the Borg."
"That would be terrible," Taar deadpanned. He held up his hand before anyone could speak. "I know, I know, old habits and all that. Now, if these are bioships, how could they stand up to that kind of punishment? I mean, coralships I get, they have all that stuff to work like armor, but this looks almost like bone."
"It's some kind of exoskeleton, sir," Rhodes explained. "Thick plates of some kind reinforced with these rib-like protrusions."
"Yes, but how can it shrug off a hit from a heavy turbolaser battery?" Taar asked.
"From our analysis," Rhodes said, "it looks like they have some kind of shielding to dissipate the blast. Some still gets through, as you can see, but the armored exoskeleton proves somewhat effective."
"Vong ships don't use shielding like that," Admiral Pomier pointed out.
"Or that kind of weaponry," Hune said. "But I can't imagine who else this could be."
"There's one other thing that bothers me," Taar said. "How'd they know Nellin was going to be the target? We could have picked any of a dozen worlds to blow away, but they were waiting for the Eclipse there. Do we think they had ambush parties at all the targets?"
"Not only that, sir," Cirule said, "was the Kazon attack on us just a provokation to ambush the Eclipse?"
Taar stared at him for a moment. "I don't think I like where this conversation is going," he remarked. He got back down to business. "How do things look in the Milky Way?"
"The news is out, sir," Pomier said. "The independent systems are grabbing knife and fork and looking at our territory."
"Terrific." Taar rubbed his eyes with one hand. "How long until the Eclipse Mark 2 is ready?"
Admiral Rinuld sat up straighter. "Six months, sir." He saw the look on Taar's face. "Resources are stretched thin, general. Trying to keep the production lines running, repairs, the cost for supplies and equipment-"
"Starting now, round the clock shifts," Taar said sharply.
"But general-"
"I want that ship, not excuses."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Two drones, one at each arm, dragged the struggling form of Korri Rej through the cube. She threw curses at them for all the good that it did, but for as much as it mattered to them, she might as well have been a corpse. Eventually they entered a room that could be considered a bridge, in the sense that it had monitors and instruments and such. Still, with the Borg's haphazard approach to aesthetics, it was obvious that any room could be converted into a bridge in a matter of minutes. Rej didn't dwell on it, however, as she struggled all the way to the holding area, which was a force field emitter over an area of the floor. Once she was inside it activated, and the two drones released her and walked through it. She banged her fists on it once or twice, growling at the two other drones.
"She seems almost animal-like," the Queen remarked. "Curious."
A Devaronian appeared out of nowhere. "The Mystral are nothing if not devoted," he said.
"Let me out of here," Rej demanded, since Mystral like getting straight to the point.
"You're in a lot of trouble, I'm afraid," Romal informed her. "You've been fighting the Empire in a time of war. That treasonous behavior, punishable by life in prison or execution, so I'd watch it."
"I'm not afraid," she said, and clearly meant every word. "Let the Empire try me; I'll tell the galaxies what they've done. Not that they'll need any extra convincing, the Empire's doing a good job of alienating worlds with their rampant militarism and use of a superlaser at the drop of a hat."
"Is that not the consequence of the assassination of the Emperor?" the Queen asked. "And weren't the Mystral participants in that assassination? It would seem that you would have no grounds for complaint if you were an instrument in the causal event."
"For a collective of super-geniuses, you Borg are extremely stupid," Rej said.
"Exasperating," Romal admitted, "but not stupid. Sometimes they say things we'd rather not hear."
"Whatever, just turn me over to the Imperials. You people make my fists itch."
"We will not," the Queen said.
"You're our prisoner," Sebastian explained.
This seemed to have caught Rej off stride. "What? Hey, you can't do this! I have rights!"
"A right to a trial," Sebastian said.
"An Imperial trial," she said emphatically.
"Actually, the Empire has given the Borg Collective the status of corporate ally," Romal explained. "Legally, the Borg are well within their rights to conduct a military tribunal for captured prisoners of war, and there is no doubt that the Mystral are on the side of the Vong in this."
"We are on the side of anyone who fights the Empire," Rej said defiantly. "And I do not recognize the authority of the Borg to try me."
"Yes, well, I'm afraid your opinion doesn't count."
"They’re Borg," Rej said, putting the same twist on the name other people employ for words like "rapists" and "cockroaches." "They don't have a court, because they all think the same way. There's no crimes within the Borg, but it's a crime to be one."
"Not any more," the Queen said, and despite everything she seemed, just a tiny bit, to be pleased with that fact. "In any event, we are perfectly suited for a trial."
"The Borg analyze information and use it to reach conclusions," Sebastian said. "That is the purpose of a court: to examine the facts and ascertain truth."
Rej scoffed in her holding area. "This is a joke," she said under her voice.
"Oh, the Borg are famous for their sense of humor," Romal said with a nod. "Ask anyone, they'll say, 'Those Borg, no sense of humor at all. Make Vulcans look like court jesters.'"
"This affair is dragging on longer than is necessary," the Queen said. "Let us begin."
"Agreed," Sebastian said.
"Very well, the verdict is guilty," the Queen said.
"What?!" Rej said in shock.
"My, justice is swift," Romal said. "I'm glad I don't charge by the hour. Respectfully, trials are traditionally oral affairs."
"Orally would be inefficient," Sebastian said.
"Yes, but it is kind of an unwritten rule," Romal said with a shrug. "I'm sorry, but that is the precedent. It would make everyone feel better, I think."
"An audio recording?" the Queen asked.
"That would be appropriate," Romal agreed.
"Very well. Commence the trial of Korri Rej. The defendant confessed to being a supporter of Vong forces against the Empire before multiple witnesses, and was apprehended in the wake of firing upon Imperial ships. The evidence thus shows beyond a doubt that Korri Rej, Imperial citizen, has betrayed the Empire to the enemy in a time of war."
"The defendent is hearby found guilty of treason," Sebastian said.
"Wait, you can't do that!" Rej said. "I get the opportunity to defend myself!"
"What facts could you possibly provide?" the Queen asked. "You attacked unarmed ships without provocation, and you confessed to being an enemy of the Empire. No evidence can possibly change that."
"But, but you can't use the confession," she said quickly. "You never told me my rights."
"This is true," Romal admitted. "You are supposed to tell her her rights."
"What, all of them?" Sebastian asked. "That would take several days."
"You have to tell me my rights as a prisoner," Rej said.
"Why?" Sebastian asked.
"So I know what they are."
Sebastian and the Queen looked at one another. "But you know what they are," the Queen said. "Otherwise you wouldn't have brought it up."
"That's not the point!"
"The position is absurd," Sebastian said. "We will not ignore a fact because of an unnecessary procedure. It can only lead to a flawed conclusion."
"But-" Rej looked around desperately. "There's other things too! Mitigating factors."
"Mitigating factors are irrelevant," the Queen said.
"It justifies what I've done!"
"Justification is irrelevant."
"What the Empire has done is wrong!"
"That is irrelevant."
Rej gave them a look of daggers with a side of venom. "This isn't justice," she said coldly.
"Justice," the Queen informed her, "is irrelevant."
The words seemed to have emptied the room of all sound. Even Romal looked rather uncomfortable with the sentiment. "Order out of chaos," the Queen continued. "That is the Borg way."
When Rej spoke, it was like a snarl. "Then you and the Empire deserve each other."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Morgan stood in the doorway as her father slept - again. He seemed to be doing it more and more lately. Not meditating, which would be understandable if something were wrong, but sleeping. But there didn't seem to be anything wrong besides that, no signs of sluggishness or weariness, no evidence he was sick or falling under some kind of unhealthy influence. He just seemed to sleep more and more, and it was beginning to worry his daughter.
There are some things so terrible that you would never do to family, no matter how desperate the situation. But there are some things so terrible you would only do them to family, even if it was the grossest kind of violation. In both cases, it's the special, intimate caring that is the barrier; in the latter case this is because the love and fear are strong enough to break through the walls we build in our minds to say "here's a place I'll never go." One thing Morgan had been taught was never to dig through an unsuspecting person's mind unless lives depended on it, because it's a gross personal violation. There was no evidence her father was in any kind of danger, not even a tremor in the Force. It was just a gut feeling that something was wrong, terribly wrong, and as she watched him sleep, the bricks tumbled down until she could make the decision. Each step wracked her mind with guilt at this betrayal of trust, but at this point, there was no turning back. She knelt down beside his bed, took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and placed a hand on either side of his head. She closed her eyes, concentrated-
Morgan hit the wall hard enough to dent it.
Morgan's eyes were glued on her father, her jaw still hanging open in shock. There had been voices. Millions. Trillions! She pulled herself back up, still staring, trying to think of what could possibly be going on inside her father's mind. Was he being controlled? Was he under some kind of evil influence? Had he tapped into some other dimension? Whatever it was, it only furthered her resolve. She returned to her spot, positioned her hands, steeled her mind, and pressed back in, far more gently this time, to try not to get hit so hard by all the minds.
She was able to suppress them this time, but it only made room for even more bizarre experiences. Vision was skewed, almost like being drunk, but as the seconds passed Morgan realized that in its own way this actually presented more detailed visual information than her eyes normally would. As she became used to it she realized that she -that is, her father, whose eyes she was using- was on board a ship. She saw the other people around him: a Devaronian male, a human female, and-
And a Borg.
Morgan knew all about her family heritage, and being one quarter Borg wasn't a problem for her. But the image of her father on the bridge, or whatever it was, of a Borg ship talking to a Borg was disconcerting. However, that same heritage gave her the ability to adapt quickly and to put together small details into larger ones. The voices, the skewed vision... her father was a Borg too.
Sebastian, or whatever the Borg her father was when he was here, was speaking. His voice was devoid. If asked to explain this thought, Morgan would have explained that there was no emotion in the voice, no feeling, no thought, no trace of her father. It was as if his brain had been completely turned off and some machine was controlling his mouth and lungs. Sebastian Skywalker's voice was devoid of Sebastian Skywalker.
The human said, "This trial is a farce. I demand you turn me over to the Empire. At least they'll treat me like a humanoid and not some damn robot."
"Under Imperial law," the Devaronian said, "we don't have to."
"The evidence demonstrates beyond all doubt," the Borg said, "that you deliberately committed treason against the Empire. The punishment for that is incarceration for life or death. Since we have no facilities for incarceration, that leaves a single option."
"You have no right!"
"You have killed," the Borg Sebastian said in the same voice as if he'd just announced their navicomputer was ready for a jump. "There is no logic holding others to a standard you repeatedly refuse to follow."
"I was fighting for my people," she said in exasperation. "I never pretended that what I was doing was right, but I did what I had to do!"
"And we will do what we have to do," Borg Sebastian said. "Verdict is decided, sentence imposed."
"I appeal," she said quickly.
"On what grounds?" the Devaronian asked.
"I was denied council."
"Council is not required," the Borg said. "We look only at facts, all facts."
"There was no one to defend me!"
"As I said, we look at all facts. A defender would seek to obfuscate the facts. We have no use for them-"
"Ahem," the Devaronian cleared his throat somewhat louder than necessary.
"We have no use for them within our own investigations," the Borg corrected.
"You can't do this!" the human screamed, and began slamming herself into a forcefield. "I deserve my day in court! Let me out! Let me-"
The forcefield collapsed, and the human tumbled out, but was caught by Borg Sebastian. Unfortunately, what he caught her by was the throat. She was gasping and banging at the limb as her eyes bugged out. "Verdict is decided," he repeated. "Sentence imposed." He gave a twist and her neck snapped, and the woman slumped like a limp marionette.
Morgan removed her hands from the sides of her father's head. Tears were running down her face, and she got up and ran from the room. Sebastian never moved.
Taar sighed despite himself. It was not a good thing to do when watching a crippling blow to the war effort unfold, but there comes a certain age when too much bad news exhausts the body, and Taar seemed to live life from exhaustion to exhaustion. "Let's cut to the bottom line," Taar said, freezing the image. "Are they Vong or not?"
There was a general clearing of throats. This ought to be good, Taar thought cynically. No one clears their throat for good news. "We don't know for sure," Commander Rhodes informed him. Rhodes had been put in charge of addressing the technical aspects of what happened. "They're bioships of some kind, that we know."
"The Milky Way is lousy for bioships," General Corbin pointed out.
"And nothing that's ever been a threat," Admiral Cirule said. "A bioship sounds nice, but it's hopelessly difficult to make it into a practical warship. Organics have advantages, but standing up to laser blasts isn't one of them."
"And the enemy we've been fighting the past few years?" Corbin asked with that infuriating tone of his. "Perhaps you'd like to explain it to them."
"Corbin, quit being an idiot and listen," Taar said, whose patience had run out months ago.
"I understand that the kind of biotechnology to achieve what the Vong have is absent from all the societies we've met," Cirule continued.
"Except for the aliens called Species 8472, sir," Commander Rhodes pointed out.
Taar grimaced at the memory of them. The Emperor had employed genetically modified versions as guards for a brief time after his return, and they'd always given him the willies. Thankfully they'd all been lost when Bastion was destroyed. "8472 is extinct, yes? We're sure of this?"
"I contacted the Borg, sir, and they assured me the species was completely assimilated."
"But clearly some survived the destruction of the Borg," General Hnial said.
"They lost everything," Rhodes explained, "including a way back into fluidic space. If they are still alive, they're no doubt in hiding somewhere trying not to have contact with us."
"Or trying to destroy us?" Admiral Hune asked.
"If Species 8472 went after anyone," Cirule said, "it would be the Borg."
"That would be terrible," Taar deadpanned. He held up his hand before anyone could speak. "I know, I know, old habits and all that. Now, if these are bioships, how could they stand up to that kind of punishment? I mean, coralships I get, they have all that stuff to work like armor, but this looks almost like bone."
"It's some kind of exoskeleton, sir," Rhodes explained. "Thick plates of some kind reinforced with these rib-like protrusions."
"Yes, but how can it shrug off a hit from a heavy turbolaser battery?" Taar asked.
"From our analysis," Rhodes said, "it looks like they have some kind of shielding to dissipate the blast. Some still gets through, as you can see, but the armored exoskeleton proves somewhat effective."
"Vong ships don't use shielding like that," Admiral Pomier pointed out.
"Or that kind of weaponry," Hune said. "But I can't imagine who else this could be."
"There's one other thing that bothers me," Taar said. "How'd they know Nellin was going to be the target? We could have picked any of a dozen worlds to blow away, but they were waiting for the Eclipse there. Do we think they had ambush parties at all the targets?"
"Not only that, sir," Cirule said, "was the Kazon attack on us just a provokation to ambush the Eclipse?"
Taar stared at him for a moment. "I don't think I like where this conversation is going," he remarked. He got back down to business. "How do things look in the Milky Way?"
"The news is out, sir," Pomier said. "The independent systems are grabbing knife and fork and looking at our territory."
"Terrific." Taar rubbed his eyes with one hand. "How long until the Eclipse Mark 2 is ready?"
Admiral Rinuld sat up straighter. "Six months, sir." He saw the look on Taar's face. "Resources are stretched thin, general. Trying to keep the production lines running, repairs, the cost for supplies and equipment-"
"Starting now, round the clock shifts," Taar said sharply.
"But general-"
"I want that ship, not excuses."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Two drones, one at each arm, dragged the struggling form of Korri Rej through the cube. She threw curses at them for all the good that it did, but for as much as it mattered to them, she might as well have been a corpse. Eventually they entered a room that could be considered a bridge, in the sense that it had monitors and instruments and such. Still, with the Borg's haphazard approach to aesthetics, it was obvious that any room could be converted into a bridge in a matter of minutes. Rej didn't dwell on it, however, as she struggled all the way to the holding area, which was a force field emitter over an area of the floor. Once she was inside it activated, and the two drones released her and walked through it. She banged her fists on it once or twice, growling at the two other drones.
"She seems almost animal-like," the Queen remarked. "Curious."
A Devaronian appeared out of nowhere. "The Mystral are nothing if not devoted," he said.
"Let me out of here," Rej demanded, since Mystral like getting straight to the point.
"You're in a lot of trouble, I'm afraid," Romal informed her. "You've been fighting the Empire in a time of war. That treasonous behavior, punishable by life in prison or execution, so I'd watch it."
"I'm not afraid," she said, and clearly meant every word. "Let the Empire try me; I'll tell the galaxies what they've done. Not that they'll need any extra convincing, the Empire's doing a good job of alienating worlds with their rampant militarism and use of a superlaser at the drop of a hat."
"Is that not the consequence of the assassination of the Emperor?" the Queen asked. "And weren't the Mystral participants in that assassination? It would seem that you would have no grounds for complaint if you were an instrument in the causal event."
"For a collective of super-geniuses, you Borg are extremely stupid," Rej said.
"Exasperating," Romal admitted, "but not stupid. Sometimes they say things we'd rather not hear."
"Whatever, just turn me over to the Imperials. You people make my fists itch."
"We will not," the Queen said.
"You're our prisoner," Sebastian explained.
This seemed to have caught Rej off stride. "What? Hey, you can't do this! I have rights!"
"A right to a trial," Sebastian said.
"An Imperial trial," she said emphatically.
"Actually, the Empire has given the Borg Collective the status of corporate ally," Romal explained. "Legally, the Borg are well within their rights to conduct a military tribunal for captured prisoners of war, and there is no doubt that the Mystral are on the side of the Vong in this."
"We are on the side of anyone who fights the Empire," Rej said defiantly. "And I do not recognize the authority of the Borg to try me."
"Yes, well, I'm afraid your opinion doesn't count."
"They’re Borg," Rej said, putting the same twist on the name other people employ for words like "rapists" and "cockroaches." "They don't have a court, because they all think the same way. There's no crimes within the Borg, but it's a crime to be one."
"Not any more," the Queen said, and despite everything she seemed, just a tiny bit, to be pleased with that fact. "In any event, we are perfectly suited for a trial."
"The Borg analyze information and use it to reach conclusions," Sebastian said. "That is the purpose of a court: to examine the facts and ascertain truth."
Rej scoffed in her holding area. "This is a joke," she said under her voice.
"Oh, the Borg are famous for their sense of humor," Romal said with a nod. "Ask anyone, they'll say, 'Those Borg, no sense of humor at all. Make Vulcans look like court jesters.'"
"This affair is dragging on longer than is necessary," the Queen said. "Let us begin."
"Agreed," Sebastian said.
"Very well, the verdict is guilty," the Queen said.
"What?!" Rej said in shock.
"My, justice is swift," Romal said. "I'm glad I don't charge by the hour. Respectfully, trials are traditionally oral affairs."
"Orally would be inefficient," Sebastian said.
"Yes, but it is kind of an unwritten rule," Romal said with a shrug. "I'm sorry, but that is the precedent. It would make everyone feel better, I think."
"An audio recording?" the Queen asked.
"That would be appropriate," Romal agreed.
"Very well. Commence the trial of Korri Rej. The defendant confessed to being a supporter of Vong forces against the Empire before multiple witnesses, and was apprehended in the wake of firing upon Imperial ships. The evidence thus shows beyond a doubt that Korri Rej, Imperial citizen, has betrayed the Empire to the enemy in a time of war."
"The defendent is hearby found guilty of treason," Sebastian said.
"Wait, you can't do that!" Rej said. "I get the opportunity to defend myself!"
"What facts could you possibly provide?" the Queen asked. "You attacked unarmed ships without provocation, and you confessed to being an enemy of the Empire. No evidence can possibly change that."
"But, but you can't use the confession," she said quickly. "You never told me my rights."
"This is true," Romal admitted. "You are supposed to tell her her rights."
"What, all of them?" Sebastian asked. "That would take several days."
"You have to tell me my rights as a prisoner," Rej said.
"Why?" Sebastian asked.
"So I know what they are."
Sebastian and the Queen looked at one another. "But you know what they are," the Queen said. "Otherwise you wouldn't have brought it up."
"That's not the point!"
"The position is absurd," Sebastian said. "We will not ignore a fact because of an unnecessary procedure. It can only lead to a flawed conclusion."
"But-" Rej looked around desperately. "There's other things too! Mitigating factors."
"Mitigating factors are irrelevant," the Queen said.
"It justifies what I've done!"
"Justification is irrelevant."
"What the Empire has done is wrong!"
"That is irrelevant."
Rej gave them a look of daggers with a side of venom. "This isn't justice," she said coldly.
"Justice," the Queen informed her, "is irrelevant."
The words seemed to have emptied the room of all sound. Even Romal looked rather uncomfortable with the sentiment. "Order out of chaos," the Queen continued. "That is the Borg way."
When Rej spoke, it was like a snarl. "Then you and the Empire deserve each other."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Morgan stood in the doorway as her father slept - again. He seemed to be doing it more and more lately. Not meditating, which would be understandable if something were wrong, but sleeping. But there didn't seem to be anything wrong besides that, no signs of sluggishness or weariness, no evidence he was sick or falling under some kind of unhealthy influence. He just seemed to sleep more and more, and it was beginning to worry his daughter.
There are some things so terrible that you would never do to family, no matter how desperate the situation. But there are some things so terrible you would only do them to family, even if it was the grossest kind of violation. In both cases, it's the special, intimate caring that is the barrier; in the latter case this is because the love and fear are strong enough to break through the walls we build in our minds to say "here's a place I'll never go." One thing Morgan had been taught was never to dig through an unsuspecting person's mind unless lives depended on it, because it's a gross personal violation. There was no evidence her father was in any kind of danger, not even a tremor in the Force. It was just a gut feeling that something was wrong, terribly wrong, and as she watched him sleep, the bricks tumbled down until she could make the decision. Each step wracked her mind with guilt at this betrayal of trust, but at this point, there was no turning back. She knelt down beside his bed, took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and placed a hand on either side of his head. She closed her eyes, concentrated-
Morgan hit the wall hard enough to dent it.
Morgan's eyes were glued on her father, her jaw still hanging open in shock. There had been voices. Millions. Trillions! She pulled herself back up, still staring, trying to think of what could possibly be going on inside her father's mind. Was he being controlled? Was he under some kind of evil influence? Had he tapped into some other dimension? Whatever it was, it only furthered her resolve. She returned to her spot, positioned her hands, steeled her mind, and pressed back in, far more gently this time, to try not to get hit so hard by all the minds.
She was able to suppress them this time, but it only made room for even more bizarre experiences. Vision was skewed, almost like being drunk, but as the seconds passed Morgan realized that in its own way this actually presented more detailed visual information than her eyes normally would. As she became used to it she realized that she -that is, her father, whose eyes she was using- was on board a ship. She saw the other people around him: a Devaronian male, a human female, and-
And a Borg.
Morgan knew all about her family heritage, and being one quarter Borg wasn't a problem for her. But the image of her father on the bridge, or whatever it was, of a Borg ship talking to a Borg was disconcerting. However, that same heritage gave her the ability to adapt quickly and to put together small details into larger ones. The voices, the skewed vision... her father was a Borg too.
Sebastian, or whatever the Borg her father was when he was here, was speaking. His voice was devoid. If asked to explain this thought, Morgan would have explained that there was no emotion in the voice, no feeling, no thought, no trace of her father. It was as if his brain had been completely turned off and some machine was controlling his mouth and lungs. Sebastian Skywalker's voice was devoid of Sebastian Skywalker.
The human said, "This trial is a farce. I demand you turn me over to the Empire. At least they'll treat me like a humanoid and not some damn robot."
"Under Imperial law," the Devaronian said, "we don't have to."
"The evidence demonstrates beyond all doubt," the Borg said, "that you deliberately committed treason against the Empire. The punishment for that is incarceration for life or death. Since we have no facilities for incarceration, that leaves a single option."
"You have no right!"
"You have killed," the Borg Sebastian said in the same voice as if he'd just announced their navicomputer was ready for a jump. "There is no logic holding others to a standard you repeatedly refuse to follow."
"I was fighting for my people," she said in exasperation. "I never pretended that what I was doing was right, but I did what I had to do!"
"And we will do what we have to do," Borg Sebastian said. "Verdict is decided, sentence imposed."
"I appeal," she said quickly.
"On what grounds?" the Devaronian asked.
"I was denied council."
"Council is not required," the Borg said. "We look only at facts, all facts."
"There was no one to defend me!"
"As I said, we look at all facts. A defender would seek to obfuscate the facts. We have no use for them-"
"Ahem," the Devaronian cleared his throat somewhat louder than necessary.
"We have no use for them within our own investigations," the Borg corrected.
"You can't do this!" the human screamed, and began slamming herself into a forcefield. "I deserve my day in court! Let me out! Let me-"
The forcefield collapsed, and the human tumbled out, but was caught by Borg Sebastian. Unfortunately, what he caught her by was the throat. She was gasping and banging at the limb as her eyes bugged out. "Verdict is decided," he repeated. "Sentence imposed." He gave a twist and her neck snapped, and the woman slumped like a limp marionette.
Morgan removed her hands from the sides of her father's head. Tears were running down her face, and she got up and ran from the room. Sebastian never moved.
