Yavitz was tired of moving. It seemed like as soon as she was moved to a so called ’safe haven,’ the Borg would attack it, and she would have to move again.

It had been several days since she was forced to flee, however. Still, she had been preparing all of that time for another move. It never came. The Borg had stopped advancing.

In fact, the Borg was being pushed back. Reports that she had been given, as well as those that Yipu had given her other showed that the Borg were losing a lot of ground. Resistance cells had taken back all of the Irabek and Sympek sectors, and the Borg was losing ground throughout the rest of the world. Nearby, Aoex had been liberated, and there were rumors of an eminent attack on the capitol. If the Borg could be beaten there, total victory would not be too far off. Soon she would be able to return to living inside of actual buildings, instead of hiding in tents and caves. The thought made her smile.

The time in hiding had not been totally wasted, though. Ito had accompanied her, and she grew fond of the young man. He needed a friendly person around, since his other had gone into suspended animation. His duties had deteriorated to a minimum, since most of the communication equipment had been taken by the Borg, and the fact that the resistance had lost all official organization. He still had a portable transceiver, and monitored all the channels he could during his spare time. He managed to put together a pretty complete picture of the war effort from the limited information he had, much to Yavitz’s delight.

In fact, Ito had heard a lot about the rumored aliens that were helping the Bint’Ari in the resistance. Yavitz found much of it unbelievable, but she could see how such tall tales were motivating to those fighting all over the world. Apparently they were in a ship that had crashed in the ocean, and came ashore on Praetor. They helped that resistance group reclaim the island and move on to the mainland.

All of that seemed fairly believable. There were sure to be other aliens than the Borg, and who’s to say some didn’t happen by at the same time? The unbelievable part were the battle-tales themselves. It seems that one of the aliens, a woman, was a ferocious warrior. A female warrior! Now that was an absurd idea. Allegedly during the attack on the city of Praetor, she killed several hundred Borg single handed. Impossible!

After that battle, they began to call her Ti’hat, after the predator. Whispered stories of the Ti’hat spread like wildfire all throughout the world. How the Ti’hat killed hundreds in Praetor. How the Ti’hat killed a Borg barehanded. How the Ti’hat lead the assault on Praetor. As time passes, she even began to take on physical characteristics of the ti’hat. She was described as having long claws, snarling teeth, even the red hair of the predator.

What about her companion? If the woman was so ferocious, then what about the man? He, to her bewilderment, was described as surprisingly passive. He was rarely described as participating in the war effort, though there were plenty of tales suggesting that he did fight. But more often than not, the stories about him were cold ones, describing the walking stone, the unfeeling man. No joy, sorrow, or pain. The picture of controlled calm. It was said that he didn’t even celebrate victory, or mourn the loss of those he fought with. They called him the Vulcan, or sometimes just Vulcan. Perhaps it was his name. Ti’hat and Vulcan. The warrior woman and the passive, deliberate man. Very much the stuff of tall tales.

Yavitz believed that all such tales were based somewhat in truth. There had to be two such people, but whether or not they were aliens, or how much of the stories about them were true was a question. And, undoubtedly, these stories would become myths, stories told for generations to come. She wished she could be there, and meet these people, see what they were doing that inspired these tales. They must be extraordinary.

This day was a day like any other. Yavitz would sit in the communications tent, and Ito would listen to whatever came in the clearest, and tell her about some of the more interesting yarns. The time that Yavitz spent with Ito became very useful to the Bint’Ari war effort. Ira, aware of everything that Yavitz learned from the young man, would pass along key information to Yipu, who would then try and use it to dispatch surviving Guard units to help to resistance fighters. Six Guard units made it to Xenin to help with the liberation of that city, all because Ito was listening.

“Is it true that we will be able to move back into the city soon, Usum?” Ito asked.

“I hope so,” replied Yavitz. “I am tired of sleeping in tents. But you know more about what is going on than I do. I just get carted around like a piece of equipment.”

“I hope it is soon. The war does seem to be going well. If these reports are accurate, resistance groups just took back both Bint and Hopach’an. Hopach’an was the last major city in Banik’Uma that the Borg controlled!”

“That just leaves our Providence, and a lot of cleanup,” Yavitz concluded.

“I haven’t been able to get anything about plans to retake Topachan or the rest of Pinch’Ece. The last couple of days, everyone has been really tight-lipped about their movements over open frequencies.”

“Can you blame them? They are probably trying to keep the element of surprise. The battle for Topachan is going to be a bloody. How many Borg did you say were still in the city?”

“Last count I heard was about ten thousand,” Ito replied.

“That is a lot of Borg,” commented Yavitz.

“Usum!” Ito exclaimed. “Here’s another story about Ti’hat and Vulcan. It’s a good one!”

Ito went on to tell a story about an argument the two aliens got into, after the Battle of Aoex. Apparently, they were repairing something on their ship, and the argument broke out. No one was certain why they were fighting, but it was supposedly quite a sight. Ti’hat yelled and screamed at the Vulcan (as she so often did), who coldly replied something to the effect of, “That it illogical,” or “That course of action would not be recommended.” Ti’Hat then lifted a boulder and flung it at the Vulcan. He stepped aside, allowing the rock to crash to the ground, and requested in his usual monotonous tone that she ‘desist in this aberrant behavior.’ The story was quite funny, if a little silly.

Ito went on, talking about cities that had just been liberated, battles that were happening, or any other interesting bits of information that he came across. Yavitz would listen intently, enjoying hearing about the triumph of her people over the Borg, when just a few days ago, she thought that all hope was lost.

It surprised Yavitz when Ito ripped his headset off and threw it to the floor. It scared her when he grabbed his head, and tears streaked down his face. She panicked when he fell to the ground, mumbling to himself. She ran to the door of the tent, and screamed for a doctor.

She hurried to his side, and rolled him so that he was on his back. His face was soaked with tears, and he was mumbling,
“Xytin, my beloved, Xytin-.” She could do nothing to get his attention.

She has been taken, beloved, Ira’s voice said to her. The Borg must have found her ship, and assimilated her.

“No,” whispered Yavitz, as she rested her hands atop of the weeping man’s head. He continued to cry, and repeat his mate’s name, even as the doctors came into the tent and began scan his vital signs.

Through the headset on the ground, Yavitz heard that another story about Ti’hat and Vulcan was being told. She reached up, and turned off the radio.

—

“Captain, we are being hailed by the lead Khamish Mothership,” Kim reported.

“On-screen,” Janeway replied, as she settled into her chair. She was looking forward to getting underway.

A Khamish soldier appeared on the viewscreen. She nodded politely before speaking.

“Captain, it is an honor to meet you. I am the Colonel of our fleet. We are ready to begin the search for your missing soldiers. If you will give us a heading, and lead the way, we would be grateful.”

“Certainly, Colonel,” replied Janeway with a smile. “Mr. Paris? We’ll start with the first nebula the shuttle was scheduled to visit. Do you have the heading?”

“Yes Captain. Bearing 114 mark 267,” replied Paris.

“Did you get that, Colonel?” Janeway asked.

“I did,” replied the Colonel. “But are you certain the drone got it right?”

“Quite certain. Is there a problem?” Janeway knew the problem was nothing but old-fashioned prejudice. But since the Khamish men actually were simple, mindless beasts, she could hardly blame the Colonel.

“No, Captain. It will just take some getting used to, working with drones. Lead the way,” the Colonel finished, before the screen went dark.

“Do we know those ships’ safe cruising speed?” Janeway asked, still uncertain how slow she was going to have to go.

“Looks like they can do warp four, no problem,” replied Ensign Nikolayevich, who was at the bridge Engineering station.

“You heard her, Mr. Paris, warp four.” Janeway leaned back in her seat, looking forward to the trip. It might be slow, but it was taking them one step closer to finding Torres and Tuvok, and not orbiting a planet waiting.

The five Khamish motherships jumped into warp after Voyager. They flew in a battle-ready formation, always keeping Voyager as the lead ship. The Colonel shortly hailed Voyager, inquiring why Janeway was going so slow, and the speed was stepped up to warp five. Within a day, the fleet would arrive at the first nebula.

—

“It’s going to take too much time. I just can’t re-align a superconducting stator with a blowtorch!” Torres took the blowtorch, and angrily threw it out the back of the shuttle.

“Lieutenant, I believe you are allowing your frustration to interfere with your performance. Perhaps if you-”

“Tuvok, do not even get into that Vulcan emotional control
crap with me right now. I am not in the mood. What the hell is this, a pipe-wrench?” Torres moaned, tossing the bulky tool back into the bin.

“Lieutenant, I was merely suggesting that-”

“Tuvok!” Torres roared. Tuvok remained silent, deciding not to waste the energy in convincing B’Elanna.

“I’ve got two fried ODN conduits. Again, I have a blowtorch to fix them! The DCA is only at 65%, there’s some kind of kelp clogging one of the plasma injectors, and the integrity of the lower magnetic constrictor is down by 20%.”

“Lieutenant, you are not required to repair the shuttle so that it is at normal operating standards. We merely need to get off the surface, so that we can search for Voyager. I am confident that the warp drive will function adequately without two ODN conduits in proper working condition.”

“Tuvok, don’t you think I know that? The warp drive already is working, but what else do I have to do now? Nothing but fix every little part of this shuttle with these ancient tools and OW! Damn! And to trip over these useless thruster pieces! Why do we still have these anyway! We should have tossed these out a long time ago.”

“That course of action would not be advisable.”

“Tuvok, I don’t care what you think! Those thrusters are fried! I see no reason to keep useless junk on the shuttle, when we can leave it here!”

“Lieutenant, if we leave shuttlecraft parts on this planet, it is possible that the Bint’Ari could study the components, and adapt them to their own spacecraft designs,” Tuvok replied.

“Tuvok, they’re junk, nothing more than bits of metal. I couldn’t get them working even if we were on Voyager. I don’t see how a society, one that hasn’t even got Warp-fight capability, could do anything more! I don’t care what you say. I am leaving them here!” Torres picked up a piece of a broken thruster and flung it out the back of the shuttle. Tuvok had to step aside to avoid being hit.

“Lieutenant, please desist in this aberrant behavior. Your energies could be better spent.”

“Shut up, Tuvok.”

Tuvok shook his head, and made his way back to the command center inside of Aoex. Oro greeted him with a smile.

“My dear Tuvok, trying to escape the angry Ti’hat?” Oro chuckled. “I don’t blame you. She has been in a fowl mood. I suppose she’s made because we delayed our attack on the capitol. I’ve never seen anyone enjoy battle more than she does!”

“You have never met a Klingon,” replied Tuvok.

“I haven’t at that,” chuckled Oro. “You know, Ti’hat mentioned something that I am curious about. Is it true that you Vulcans can, oh, how did she put it, telepathically contact someone, without bonding?”

“No doubt you are referring to a mind meld.”

“Yes! That was it! Can you really do that?”

“The mind-meld is indeed similar to what you delineated. But, the process itself is something very difficult to describe.”

“Hmm. Well, I was thinking,” Oro began, “that maybe you could do, well, whatever that is, to my father. Maybe you can help him separate himself from the Borg. Then, maybe, we’ll have some idea of what they are planning on.”

“I have already considered the idea, but I discounted it some time ago. If I were to join with your father’s mind, My mind would be in contact with that of the Collective. The risk that my own mind might be overpowered by the Borg would be too great a risk.”

“I see,” replied Oro, busying himself with his work. “A shame. We are moving on to Topachan tomorrow morning. Do you think she will be done with her modifications to your shuttle before then?”

“I expect that she will,” replied Tuvok, “if she doesn’t damage
anything else in the shuttle before she is through.”

Oro laughed. “I knew that you had a sense of humor, Mr. Tuvok.”

“Humor was not my intent, Oro.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t.”

Star Trek, Voyager, and related properties are © Paramount Studio, and the author makes no claim towards them.

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