DISCLAIMER: Not mine! (But if you want to use the original characters of my creations, ask and ye shall receive lol)
Ah...how touching...this chapter almost made me cry while I was writing it. Awww...
Poor Jayvin.
Give up or give away? Be a consort or just a drone?
Heh... this chapter is dedicated to my wonderful teacher and good friend (I consider him that), Mr. Mark Dunn. I would love to thank him for being there for me during the hard times and inspiring me to take up writing again. I LOVE YOU, DUNN—SENSEI! (heehee...) He rocks.
I'm not kidding. Fitieth reviewer gets their name in the fanfic here. And a nice, handwritten letter from me to YOU. I need your address and name though. Whatever...if you don't want to provide it, don't put it there, let the fifty-first get it then. Plus, you get a drawing of the Azrael. Free. Get your friends to review, too! Tell everyone who would read this about it!
And onward. I did well on my Geometry test, btw. Thanks for asking (smiles).
A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE
She was dying.
There was nothing anyone could do anymore. No one could save her.
She heard music playing in her head. Music. And a glove brushing against her cheek. She could already hear the voice in her mind. Asking, requesting of her what she could not give.
Don't resist...and you can have all the glory you want. You can control legions of drones...all yours. Anything you want from us. We—you are the Borg. You can reign differently, even. Give in...
No...she said. She knew that she could easily kill herself before assimilation. But that sad need, the one that would never allow going back...was there any other choice? She had already made the decision to be the Queen's, already decided that there was more to learn by living in a hive.
I'm not strong enough. I never was. With that realization, she gave in to the demands of the machines and kissed her old personality good-bye.
Jayvin Belar of the Azrael would never love.
She would never go to Risa or Bajor as a married woman.
She would never again recite Shakespeare, or write poetry.
She would most likely never exist as Jayvin Belar ever again.
And that was what hurt the most.
For if she was no longer Jayvin, she was an enemy.
And enemy that had to be captured...or killed.
"No...not Jay..." Enaren trailed off, his head in his hands. Tears fell slowly from his eyes as he witnessed Jayvin's assimilation first-hand. He watched her slowly stop struggling. Bow to the demands of the Borg Queen.
Saw her left arm get brutally cut off. Watched as she began to scream, and then, just as abruptly stopped. Became an observer to the inauguration of a new Borg commander—a Speaker in her own right, one to two worlds.
She was unreachable, female consort to the Borg Queen who, even now, had chosen Jayvin to spite Enaren. She knew he was watching. A young and ambitious queen, she had seen Enaren fire the final shot as she already had the Royal Protocol flooding her body. It was all in spite.
How does it feel? To be the one to watch as your commander dies?
Now he heard her, too. It was the exchange between the queen and the Borg he allowed his mind to dwell within.
Now, we shall be the ones to watch as you die foolishly for trying to rescue her. Resistance is futile.
Responding in like kind, he used his telepathy. You pretend you know us, yet you do not. Love is more powerful than purpose.
The Queen withdrew, leaving Enaren alone to watch the newly-made Borg rise to her Queen's call. He already knew her name. Mirake of Borg. Utter irony.
Mirake. The name of the Azrael's self-destruct log.
Withdrawing from the drone he had been using, he fell into his own body with a jolt, crying again. She was gone...leaving him to mourn.
"She's gone." The deadened voice that had taken over Enaren's normal voice was frightening and depressing. He had given up already.
"No she's not, Tapel. Pull yourself together. We're already formulating a way to get her back."
"She's gone. Jayvin's gone. The mind that keeps the flesh isn't her," he repeated. "Mirake of Borg. Jayvin of the Azrael. The queen's consort-- Mirake-- strength--" he cut himself off, sobbing like a child over the loss.
"Pull-yourself-together!" Lak'tran demanded, slapping him between words. "You want her back, act like you want her back. Don't let her sacrifice be in vain. There's a reason she saved your miserable life, you know," she stated matter-of-factly.
The door whooshed open.
"Commander Lak'tran! Sub-Commander Enaren! We have a way to--" deBoer paused, seeing the tears for the first time. "We have a way to get her back," she said, softly. "We can go tomorrow. So far, the queen's attempts at getting in our computer system have failed. Later than tomorrow...we'll have to abandon the attempt. There's already evidence that the cube will leave tomorrow or the next day," she said a bit nervously.
"Of course, that's just what she wants. We'll have to go today," the Romulan woman said wearily. "What's your plan?"
Mirake, awaken. The queen's voice resounded in her mind.
Due to this type of assimilation, you have been permitted partial access to your personality outside of the Collective.
Now it was the drone's turn. As more Jayvin than Mirake, she asked her question. My Queen, why me?
Because you are efficient and knowledgable. Resistance is futile. You are Mirake of Borg, Speaker to Trill and Vulcan, consort to the queen. Who are you?
We are Mirake of Borg. Turning her pale face towards the queen, the drone's now-silvery blue eyes shone with adoration and admiration. Both of her eyes remained, but a black faceplate covered half of her face. Black, sleek body armour covered her arms, chest, and legs. From her neck down was flesh, with the armour starting at her upper chest. Slender and strong, it was the perfect combination to use against the coming storm.
"What are we going to do again?" Lak'tran asked, her Romulan lineage coming through as she stiffened in her seat.
"Beam in with these transponder nanoprobes in your bloodstream. Not only will they combat and destroy the Borg nanoprobes, but for a short time they will also act as a homing device on you. You have up to a half-hour," deBoer said from across the room. Sitting at the head of the table, Lak'tran was the farthest away from the Bajoran.
"So one can be assimilated but not part of the hivemind," Lak'tran confirmed.
"Yes, sir," the Bajoran said, now frowning.
"Sounds like a load of fun," Cairteal Keanu remarked sarcastically.
"It will be a good day to die," a recently-promoted Klingon male stated.
"Lieutenant Karogh, it may be, but the only reason any of us will die is to save Jayv—Mirake. Understood?" Lak'tran asked. When nods of assent were made throughout the room, she took a bit of her predecessor's personality and dismissed them on a hanging note. As soon as the room emptied out, she realized what she had missed.
Tapel Enaren had never been in the room at all.
He had already rejoined the Collective to watch Mirake. No, he told himself, shaking his head, it's Jayvin. She's still alive in there. She has to be.
Deals with the devil...he knew he could get her back. He knew what he had to do. Was he strong enough?
Am I strong enough, honestly? He asked himself this over and over again, wondering that his offering would result in a losing situation.
Could he do what he needed to in order to save the single beam of light in the darkness? Betray the Azrael to obey his Commander?
His commander's words haunted him; betraying the ship wasn't saving the ship. Betraying the ship was as good as betraying Jayvin. How could anyone, let alone himself, follow through?
But I have to. It's her only chance.
He was about to leave his quarters when a security team stormed him room, surrounding him with their disruptors drawn, Lak'tran at the head.
"Sub-Commander Tapel, you have been found guilty of treason. As a traitor, you will be treated as such until a tribunal jury decides on your future," the proud Romulan woman read from a padd. "Take him to the brig, cell six. Keep him in stasis until further notice. He is no longer in command of you, his rank has been temporarily revoked. Go," she ordered.
It had actually been the little child Anni who had discovered it. She had been exploring the ship and found Enaren jury-rigging the comm and data core systems, most likely to send to the Borg. She had watched him dicreetly as he had downloaded everything to several tricorders. Classified material had been released by the leak.
But could he actually be a traitor? Or was he doing this for a sincerely good reason?
More importantly, could she put him to death if she needed to?
Mirake.
Yes, my queen?
They are coming. Have you been contacted?
Yes, by the telepath, Tapel Enaren.
He will be allowed to continue the transport of hs information. It will be valuable in the assimilation of the objective vessel.
Resistance is futile.
Indeed. The species onboard will be assimilated.
Yes, my queen.
Now come forward. An upgrade must be made. You require repair.
Of course, Mirake/Jayvin obeyed, allowing the technician drones to upgrade her cortex to be sharper, faster, and more independent. More of herself. But in return, she was less free—she would be fighting her own people soon, assimilating them as they came.
Because, Mirake, resistance is futile.
Short and sweet. We get the point across, and I finish making the nice readers/reviewers happy with two chapters in a day.
But a little amusing and interesting interlude of insanity.
SETTING: Borg Cube.
Jayvin: How did I get here?
Mirake: We are Borg. Resistance is futile.
Jay: ...try me.
Borg Queen: Mirake...Jayvin...Mirake...unable...process...shut down error 42...
Jay: (watches innocently as all Borg cease functioning) Did I do that..?
Enaren: Jay! You're alive! (dances like fool)
Jay: (slaps Enaren) Of course I am. But where did you come from and who's the guy behind you?
Enaren: Oh, that's...ummmm...wait, who ARE you?
QGJ: My name is Master Jinn of the Jedi Order.
Jay and Enaren: WDF!
Hope: (draws phaser, shoots Qui-Gon, steals lightsaber) Now what the hell is THIS?
Jay: No idea. (does Gir imitation) I DON'T know.
Hope: Well then...(turns lightsaber on) Whoa!
Jay: How the hell are you alive anyway?
Gollum: Pretty...my precious...
Jay: KILL IT! (laughs as Gollum is killed)...(continues laughing, all the while growing more demonic)
Hope: I have a bad feeling about this...you really are cruel, you know?
Jay: (snarls and lunges for Enaren)
Enaren: Whoa...AAAAAH!
Hope: Calm down, Tapis...calm down...
Jay/Tapis: (looks very feral, glares at Hope)
Hope: Enaren...you may want to move...
QGJ: ...
Yoda: Learn the ways of the Force, you must, Master Jinn. Return with me to Coruscant, you shall. (the Jedi disappear in a flash of pink-or is it light red?-flash of light)
Checkup on characters:
(STAR WARS)
Yoda and QGJ: Jedi Temple
(LOTR)
Gollum: deceased
(TREK)
Borg Queen: in endless reboot loop
Jay/Tapis: currently as Tapis, making out with Hope
Hope: thinking of how to cure Jay so that she doesn't have to make out with her
Enaren: hurting, and completely confused as to the Hope/Tapis coupling
Mirake: in endless reboot cycle
Author: about to appear, ready at transporter pad
Author: Are you and Jay quite done yet?
Hope: Dunno...ask Jay...
Tapis/Jay: ?
Enaren: Can you PLEASE explain to me why two very attractive and RESPONSIBLE women are over in the corner making out? Please?
Author: Um. Dunno. Since you are a figment of my imagination, though...it's really my choice.
Enaren: Then why don't I have someone! C'mon! You can do better than that!
Author: Erm. (cough cough) Well now THAT would be a spoiler if there ever was one.
Enaren: To Erebus (Romulan Afterlife) with that! I want a girl!
Author: (coughs, attempts to disguise femininity under usual gothic apparel)
Enaren: Hey...wait...you're a girl...
Author: (frantically pulls out script and scribbles) What girl do you want...anyone but me...
Enaren: Well...lesse here... Jay would be nice...or Commander Troi...
Author: (scribbles some more) Commander Troi it is. As of right now, she's in love with you. Just wait.
Enaren: All right...grr.
Troi: (appears in flash of pink light) Where am I?
Enaren: (takes hand) Milady, I have no idea as to our whereabouts but I can tell you right now that it shan't matter much after today.
Troi: Oh...(suddenly comes closer to Tapel Enaren)...it's you...(kisses him passionately)
Enaren: (blushes, but kisses back, giving thumbs-up to AUTHOR)
SCENE X times 6
Author: We'll check up on our wonderful Enterprise characters and see how they're doing without Troi now...
Riker: KILL HER! SHE TOOK DEANNA!
Worf: Glad to oblige you. (fires)
Author: AAAAAH! (dodges and plays Neo from the Matrix)
Riker: Damn, we can't hit her.
Worf: (charges with bat'leth, swinging strongly)
Author: (uses Naruto hand seals, manages to clone self to avoid being killed)
Riker: Worf! Get the right! I have the left! (shoots until Worf hits AUTHOR)
Author: (falls on floor, fatally wounded) Ohh...ow.
Data: (taps combadge) Doctor, we have a medical emergency in the Deck Five area, section Three.
Spock: It would be logical to assume that today is most definitely not your day, Anij.
Author: (winces) Couldn't tell...
Torias Dax: Anij? It's me...Torias.
Author: Are you a ghost? Wait...Dax...DS9...Jadzia...or is it Ezri?
Tori: Don't ask, it's complicated.
Author: Torias...I'm dying...
Tori: Well, I came back to say that I love you. (kisses gently)
Author: Is that all I get for writing this story and dying?
Tori: No. Well, not if you die.
Author: Okay. (dies obligingly to see Torias Dax)
Tori: Adieu! (waves, blows kisses to mobs of screaming teenage fans)
Worf: What was that all about again, Commander Riker?
END OF ACT I
SUGARHIGHEDNESS!
w00t.
-Anij Jinn