Ti’Hat and the Vulcan: Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Torres awoke to the sun beating down on her, and immediately noticed two things.
First, the shuttle had stopped tossing.
Second, Tuvok was nowhere to be seen.
Torres sat up slowly, trying to ignore the pain that shot through her body. She looked over, and noticed that the shuttle was beached in the calm surf. She also saw a set of footprints in the sand leading away from the shuttle. She assumed they were Tuvok’s, and decided to follow them.
Getting up was harder than she had expected. Her skin severely burned, and her muscles were sore. After several minutes, she managed to pull herself to her feet and stumble after the trail.
As Torres made her way through the thick, jungle-like vegetation that the trail went through, she tripped over what seemed to be a fallen branch. She looked down, horrified to discover that she had tripped over an arm. She took a step back, and looked around. All around were decapitated Borg, strewn across the jungle floor. She tempered the stab of fear she felt, telling herself that if the Borg had not yet come to retrieve their dead, they would not be coming at all.
She whirled around, hearing a rustle of branched behind her. She slowly bent her knees, ready to attack whatever it was that was behind her. Fortunately, she noticed it was Tuvok before she leapt.
“This, this is incredible,” rasped Torres, noticing for the first time it felt as if someone had poured sand down her throat, and that is was difficult to talk.
“Indeed,” replied Tuvok. “It would seem that the Borg are encountering certain ‘difficulties’ in their assimilation of this planet.”
Torres bent over a Borg corpse, to inspect it. “You can say that again. These Bint’Ari, if that is where we are, are quite clever. Using swords as opposed to energy weapons.”
Tuvok nodded in agreement. “Clearly these beings have learned a very effective way of defending themselves.”
Again, Torres heard a rustling in the trees. Before either of the two officers could draw their phasers, a voice was heard.
“Throw down your weapons,” the voice boomed.
Torres and Tuvok complied. After they tossed down their phasers, two people came out of the cover of the vegetation. They were very short, about four and a half feet tall, and covered in long hair. Each held a long, curved blade.
“Identify yourselves,” one of the men demanded.
Tuvok stepped forward. “I am Lt. Commander Tuvok, of the Federation Starship Voyager.”
“The other one?” the man asked, pointing his sword at Torres.
“Lt. B’Elanna Torres,” she rasped.
“More aliens,” the other man moaned. “We should just kill them!”
“What do you want?” The first man asked, ignoring his companion.
“We were attacked by the Borg just above your planet,” explained Tuvok. “Our shuttle crashed in the ocean, and we came ashore here. We are in need of assistance.”
The man lowered his sword. “What do you know of the Borg?”
“Our civilization has encountered the Borg in the past,” Tuvok replied. “They attempted to assimilate us.”
“We are wasting our time, Oro!” The impatient captor whined.
“And you defeated them?” Oro asked, still ignoring the other man.
“We successfully repelled their attack, at great cost,” Tuvok explained. “Since then, we have learned a great deal about the Collective.”
The two men conferred for a moment, then the impatient one angrily turned and stomped away.
“I will take you to our camp,” Oro said. “The woman needs water, badly. We will provide that and any help we can to you.”
Tuvok and Torres both nodded in thanks.
“My name is Jaskin’Oro. I am risking a lot by helping you. My people are not at all trusting of aliens. But, I am hoping that you may be able to tell us something useful about the Borg. You would be dead otherwise.”
Oro turned in the direction of his companion. The two officers picked up their phasers, and followed.
Ensign Nikolayevich waited patiently for the turbolift. When the doors finally opened, she was greeted by perhaps the most pitiful looking face she had ever seen.
“Natasha,” greeted a somber looking Tom Paris, who strainged to force a smile.
“Deck 8,” the ensign ordered, then turning to Paris. “Are you okay, Tom?”
“Splendid!” replied Tom weakly. “I just got off duty, and I’m meeting Harry down at the mess hall. Care to join me?”
“Oh, I don’t think so Tom,” replied Natasha, who lifted her repair kit as an excuse. “I’ve got a lot of work left to do.”
“Shame. Perhaps another time then.” Tom said, forgetting his smile.
“Perhaps,” She replied as the turbolift stopped on Deck 8. Natasha stepped off, bade Tom goodbye, and sighed sadly when the doors closed behind her
It was not much of a secret that not too long ago, Tom and B’Elanna had become very intimate. Ever since then, Tom had become a very different man, almost likeable.
Not that she didn’t like Paris, she even went out with him once, a couple of years ago. But he was too persistent for her. The first words out of his mouth were always some sort of advance. And he wasn’t at all particular, he would flirt with a vast majority of the women on the ship. To her, he seemed to be a walking hormone.
But ever since he and B’Elanna began seeing each other, everything improved. She found that she could have a conversation with him without his eyes evaluating her, or without any sort of questionable remark. It was a pleasant change.
She felt especially bad for him. B’Elanna was nowhere to be found, and now they were a half a day away from the rendez-vous point. If Tuvok and B’Elanna made it there, they may not find the message buoy, and have no idea where Voyager was.
What if they didn’t make it? What if the Borg found them? What if they had mechanical trouble with the shuttle? What if it had crashed on some primitive or lifeless planet out there? Even worse, what if it had crashed into a Borg planet?
She turned into a door marked ‘Botanical Sciences.’ One of the stasis chambers was on the fritz, and Natasha was called up to give it a look. This was something she was not happy about. She tended to spend more time outside of engineering than in, and that was not why she joined Starfleet. But then again, being trapped fifty-five thousand light years away from home wasn’t part of the plan either.
She was worried, for both Tom and for herself. She may be bitter at times towards B’Elanna for the irritating assignments she got, but that animosity was no where near strong enough to wish her any ill.
As she began to examine the broken device, she became furious. Twelve chips were blown and a thick black ooze covered the interior of the device. Someone tried to use the incubator for something, she couldn’t tell what, but something it definitely wasn’t designed for. It wasn’t her job to lay blame, though. Just to fix the problem.
Perhaps she needed to relax. Every little detail nowadays was annoying her to no end. A boring routine could do that to a person, she thought. With all the potential danger and excitement the Delta Quadrant held, she found it to be a tragic irony that she had been delegated the position of a repairman. But it was better in the long run, and safer, than any other job. B’Elanna and Tuvok were gone because they were in the thick of excitement. And Tom was crushed because of it.
She knew the Starfleet answer. Don’t get involved, and you won’t get hurt. Good advice.
Unless the chances of you ever getting home were close to naught, and if you ever want to get involved, its now or never.
The thought depressed her. She finished her repairs, and headed back to the turbolift. She uttered a silent prayer for Tuvok and B’Elanna, and went back down to engineering to retrieve her afternoon work schedule.
Janeway again entered sickbay, this time to find Seven of Nine seated at an examination table and one of the Doctors scanning her with a medical tricorder.
“Seven,” she greeted, as she arrived at the examination table.
“Captain,” Seven replied.
“Can you give me some idea what happened out there?” Janeway asked. “Wait; I already know what happened out there. What I want to know is why.”
“The Borg scout was a threat to both the shuttle and this ship. I eliminated it.”
“Captain-”
“That wasn’t my question,” said Janeway, ignoring the Doctor. “Why did you punch Harry? What made you think that an mere shuttle could take on any Borg ship? What if others had been around?”
“I am not certain,” replied Seven, hesitantly. “I am having a hard time remembering exactly what transpired.”
“Captain, if I may,” interrupted the Doctor, again. “Seven has suffered severe mental trauma. Brainwave analysis indicates she has experienced something similar to a violent telepathic encounter. However, her implants allowing any such contact with the Borg have been deactivated. I cannot explain how it happened.”
“The Borg have undoubtably assimilated many telepathic species. Is it possible that they could initiate some kind of contact without using Seven’s implants?”
“No,” Seven replied. “The Borg find telepathy to be an inferior form of communication. It would never be used to communicate with parts of the Collective. They find technology more efficient.”
“In this instance, technology failed to contact you. Wouldn’t they have to resort to an inferior form of communication?” Janeway asked.
“The thought would not have occurred to them,” Seven replied. “Besides, I doubt they were aware of me being a former member of the collective. The scout identified out shuttle as a threat, and attempted to eliminate it.”
“That doesn’t explain your unusual brain activity. If it the Borg, then who contacted you?” Janeway asked.
“I believe Seven is the one who initiated contact,” the Doctor interrupted. “Seven is not a telepath, but all human brains have the potential for telepathic activity. She may have subconsciously been aware of the Borg’s presence, and her mind, out of habit, reached out to the Collective.”
“That might explain why she attacked Ensign Kim,” Janeway said.
“It would,” Seven concluded. After a moment of hesitation, she continued, “I hope that he is uninjured.”
Janeway smiled. “He’s fine. He’ll be relieved to know that you’re back to your ‘human’ self. If you are feeling up to it, Seven, I would like you to accompany me to the surface. I’ll brief you on the way to the transporter room.”
Seven nodded, and the two women strode out the door, leaving the Doctor standing by the medical table, holding his tricorder. He muttered something about inconsiderate and ungrateful humans, and continued his work.
His double walked by, continuing his work on some blood samples the Doctor had taken earlier. Unnoticed by the Doctor, the image of the double sparked and began to fade, but it soon regained its integrity and continued working as if nothing had happened.
“I just can’t believe it,” said Tom Paris, taking a spoonful of soup into his mouth. “An entire race of sentient beings, who’s men are nothing more than sexual pets.”
“I could see you going for that kind of life, Tom,” Harry smiled.
Paris grinned thoughtfully for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I do think I prefer things the way they are. Those beasts probably don’t know what they’ve got.”
“Mr. Paris!” The call came from Neelix, decked out in full chef’s attire, complete with apron and hat. Neelix had come onboard Voyager along with Kes four years ago. He and Seven of Nine were the only two people on the ship that were not heading back to a home of some sort. He was from Talax, a world in the Delta Quadrant, and came onboard Voyager in hopes of an adventure, as well as a way to improve his life. Neelix originally offered his services as a guide, but the Federation ship had long since left any part of space that Neelix was familiar with. Neelix took it upon himself to become useful in other ways, and much to the displeasure of the crew, cooking was one of the facets of life on Voyager that Neelix felt himself indispensable.
“Mr. Paris, how do you like the soup? I had a devil of a time trying to find an acceptable substitute for tomato, but, if I do say so myself, the result was spectacular!” The Talaxian continued, “In fact, I was thinking-”
“It’s just fine, Neelix,” interrupted Paris, who was in no mood to hear about Neelix’s adventures with his dinner.
“I am so glad to hear it!” Neelix exclaimed. “Now, if you-”
“So Neelix,” Harry mercifully interrupted. “What do you think of these Khamish?” Isn’t it odd about their men?”
“Certainly not!” Neelix replied. “In fact, I once spent an entire month on a planet - Oniq I believe it was - anyway, the Oniquians of both sexes were non-sentient!”
“Neelix,” Paris explained. “The same could be said of most every species in the galaxy! Dogs, cats, targ, -”
“Ah,” interrupted Neelix. “But the Oniquians were unique. About a quarter of their species could not breed, as they were neither male nor female. It was that part of the population that was sentient! The sexless ones were so prejudice against ‘breeders,’ as they called them, that it took me the better part of my stay there to agree to trade with me! In fact-”
Neelix went on to explain every detail of his month on Oniq, and how similar a society it was to that on Kham. Tom and Harry helplessly listened, neither one of them could think of a polite way to interrupt him. Mercifully, an excuse presented itself as The Doctor entered the mess hall, and headed straight for their table.
“So the Monarch of Oniq said to me, ‘Neelix, you-’ ”
“Doctor!” cried Paris. “It is so good to see you! What brings a nice hologram like you to this part of the ship?”
The Doctor was a bit confused at Paris’s overly kind greeting, but then he noticed Neelix, mouth open in mid-sentence, and understood immediately.
“Mr. Kim, I was curious as to whether you could come to sickbay. I am conducting some blood plasma experiments and I am in need of a human sample.”
Kim leaped to his feet. “Certainly Doctor! Lead the way!”
Paris quickly gulped down the rest of his soup. “I’ve just finished eating myself. Why don’t I go along?”
“Mr Paris, I -” The Doctor again looked at Neelix, who still had his mouth open, waiting to finish his story. “I think that would be an excellent idea. You are in need of some training in this area. Perhaps you could be of some use. Please come with me.”
Kim and Paris exchanged polite farewells with Neelix, and scurried after The Doctor, who had already left the mess hall.
“Doc, let me tell you,” Paris said, “You certainly have excellent timing.”
“Doctor, you could have just called me over the comm-system.” Kim said. “Why did you walk all the way down to the mess to get me?”
“What good is a holo-emitter, if you always stay in sick-bay? Besides, I decided I needed to take a walk.” The Doctor asked.
The Doctor was clearly not human. He was a complex holographic program, known as the EMH, Emergency Medical Hologram. He was installed aboard Voyager for use in emergencies, when the services of the ships Doctor needed to be supplemented. Unfortunately, Voyager’s Doctor died when the Caretaker pulled Voyager into the Delta Quadrant. Hence, the EMH program was forced to become the ship’s Chief Medical Officer.
The Doctor had adapted well, and in the last four years, had arguably attained sentience. Two years ago, Voyager had encountered a ship from the twenty-ninth century, and Voyager attained a bit of their holographic technology. The holo-emitter allowed The Doctor to leave the areas of the ship that were specially equipped for holographic projection, and allowed him to become a fully functional member of the crew.
Tom and Harry continued their conversation about the non-sentient Khamish men, and decided to include The Doctor.
“Doctor, what have you heard about races where one of the sexes is sentient, and the other is not?” Harry asked.
“I haven’t been programmed with any data on the subject.”
“Doesn’t it bother you, just a little?” Paris asked. “I mean, Your chances of being sentient are solely based on whether or not your born a woman or not! That is simply unbelievable.”
“Perhaps for you,” The Doctor dryly replied. “But my sex serves no reproductive purpose, it is merely a superficial aspect of my program. I could just as easily be a woman.”
“And an attractive woman you would be!” Tom ogled.
“Yes, I can see that you have much in common with the Khamish males,” The Doctor dryly replied.
The Collective was in shock. It had lost contact with the cube sent to assimilate the Khamish. This was the third time they were unsuccessful in assimilating that culture. Also, the Borg sent to assimilate the Bint’Ari were suffering tremendous losses. Sixty percent of the Borg on the planet had been deactivated. That cube could not send any more soldiers down to the surface and still operate efficiently, so it was recalled back to Planet 0495 for replenishment.
The losses were tremendous. Nothing like those during the was with Species 8472, but the situation was almost as critical. The Borg was in need of vital resources that could be found on these worlds, to rebuild itself after that devastating conflict. The assimilation of those worlds was essential.
The Collective began to solve the problem with an evaluation on the recent losses. Drones on the surface of the planet inhabited by Species 965, the Bint’Ari were being decapitated. This was not too unusual, many assimilated societies used bladed weapons, but they never had been this effective in the past.
The cube sent to assimilate Species 969 was destroyed by that species for a third time. Their technology rating was low, but that, for some reason, did not affect their ability to resist the Borg.
The Collective then worked to determine a common variable in each of their defeats. The small, Federation craft was an unusual aspect of the difficulties on Bint’Ari. One small vessel could not possibly possess the capability to travel so far, and cause the deaths of so many Borg soldiers. But a similar vessel destroyed a scout near Planet 0495. Information about that class of vessel indicated that it was not powerful enough to combat any sort of Borg vessel.
The Federation had proven to be an unpredictable and confusing foe. With the sudden appearance of the Federation ship NCC-1701-D over seven thousand light years away from their designated space, and their equally rapid departure, the Collective believed that the Federation had a highly advanced technology. But, when the Borg attempted to assimilate this civilization, the same ship was hopelessly outrun by the invading cube. And the fleet assembled to stop the same cube at Wolf 359 was defeated easily.
Technologically, the Federation was weaker than expected. But then, the assimilated Picard, Locutus, actually broke from the Collective, betrayed them in essence, and helped NCC-1701-D destroy the invading cube! Later, Locutus used his influence to cause a part of the Collective to become defective, self-aware, and rebel. Then, the destruction of the second invading cube, lead by NCC-1701-E, and by Locutus. This time the Borg had a countermeasure, launching a sphere and temporally displacing it, in order to disrupt the history of the planet Earth in order to weaken the Federation in the present. But it failed, due again to Locutus, and Data, who also broke from the Collective much easier than Locutus did.
Now another failed assimilation. Then, the destruction of another cube, by another Federation ship, NCC-74656, the one called Voyager. This ship, and the shuttle, were over fifty-five thousand light years away from their designated space. Again, confusing unpredictability on their part. The situation was entirely unacceptable. What would be next, the sudden appearance of a Federation ship at Planet 01, and its destruction? The threat was too great to be ignored.
How, though? Sending another cube into Federation Space would solve nothing. The solution must be larger. This Federation could no longer be underestimated. One thing was certain for the time being. NCC-74656 must be eliminated.
It took a moment for Janeway to adjust to the humid Khamish air. She looked around to see that both Seven of Nine and Ensign Nikolayevich had arrived safely. She then scanned the landscape where she landed. She was awestruck. The party had landed on a ledge of a rather tall cliff. The surrounding valley was full of rivers and small lakes. There were very few structures, at least very few that were visible. there were several obvious tunnel entrances where beings were streaming in and out of what appeared to be a vast underground network of tunnels.
Janeway had a difficult time choosing the landing party. Because of the attitude of the Khamish towards men, Janeway thought it best to only bring women. She had explained to the Queen that their males were not like the Khamish drones, and were valuable members of the crew. The Queen agreed that they could be, and thought it was wonderful that Janeway allowed her drones to pretend like they were useful.
The Queen did explain a lot about the Khamish drones. According to her, they approximated Terran chimps in intelligence, but they were less energetic. There was a time when the Khamish tried to elevate their drones to a higher level in society, but the result was disastrous. Drones trained to do menial tasks took jobs away from Workers. Workers protested with strikes that caused production to spiral. That affected all of the classes. The effort was given up after everyone accepted that the idea was ludicrous. Drones didn’t care whether they were working, mating, or just standing around. In fact, they were too stupid to know the difference.
It was that anecdote that persuaded Janeway not to bring any men on the mission. Under normal circumstances, this would not be a problem. She and B’Elanna would beam down. But B’Elanna was still no where to be found, and Janeway needed an engineer on this away team, so that the Khamish weapon technology could be looked at for possible adaption to Voyager. Seven would be of some use, but B’Elanna was for more in tune with the various intricacies of Voyager. If there was a weapon that was effective against the Borg, it would be foolish not to try and acquire it. Seven could study the weapon, and determine if it could be upgraded to prove even more effective against a cube.
So, she decided to bring Ensign Nikolayevich. She had noticed that Natasha was growing bored with her normal duty schedule, and thought the away mission would provide a bit of much needed diversity. Apparently she was right. Natasha instantly and excitedly agreed to the trip, and Janeway couldn’t help notice the excitement that still lingered in her eyes.
Janeway looked up and saw the Queen coming forward with two retainers. For the first time, she truly saw the differences in the way members of the different classes looked. By all appearances, the Queen was born to be a queen, just as bees on Earth give special attention to the eggs intended for royalty. All three members of the approaching party were segmented, with two arms and four legs. But only the Queen had wings. And while the retainers had dull, black fur, the Queen had beautifully reflective silver fur. The Queen was much taller than the retainers, reaching well over two meters. Every feature on the Queen was longer, more slender, and much more beautiful.
“Your Majesty,” Janeway greeted, politely bowing her head. “This is Ensign Nikolayevich, and Seven of Nine.”
The Queen studied the three women, then motioned towards her retainers. “These are nurses. They do not have names. They exist only to serve me.” The Queen turned towards the nurses, and fluttered her wings. The two retainers took the silent cue, and scurried down the passageway whence they came.
“Seven of Nine,” the Queen repeated. “an interesting ‘designation.’ An artificial hand, an ocular implant, are you certain that your companion is not a Borg Captain?”
“She was a Borg, Your Majesty,” Janeway replied. “But she is a human, like myself and Ensign Nikolayevich. We liberated her from the Collective. Some of her implants were essential for her continued survival, so they were left in. I assure you that she is not a threat.
The Queen buzzed to herself, apparently satisfied with that answer. “I shall never get over how ugly you talking mammals are,” she commented without giving Seven a second thought.
Natasha’s mouth dropped open. Seven’s face remained unreadable. Janeway smiled. She knew from her short conversation with the monarch that she was very arrogant, and used every opportunity to assert her own superiority over everyone else. Janeway thought that her behavior was very predictable, from someone who was bred to be the absolute pinnacle of superiority on her world.
“We could not possibly compare to you in beauty, Your Majesty,” Janeway responded, almost sarcastically.
The Queen moved closer to Janeway, and bent her knees, until she was eye-level with the Captain. “I like you,” she decided. “Most species let their men run everything, and will not visit because they cannot bring them along. The rest will try and start war over the slightest insult. You,” The Queen rose to her full height with a flutter of her wings, “I can respect you. Let us move on.” The Queen turned and moved towards the passage that her nurses had just exited through a moment ago. Janeway and Natasha exchanged curious looks as they moved forward to follow the Queen.
Star Trek, Voyager, and related properties are © Paramount Studio, and the author makes no claim towards them.
Post your comments in the Forum!
