The Artifact
"I can't believe they let you fly the Bezh-class ship but not me," I whined as Tom and I left the transport station and made our way home.
Tom shrugged. "I have more piloting experience."
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Thoughts of the flawlessly curved design and a new multi-adaptive navigation system ran through my mind. I sighed. "It's such a beautiful ship."
"It really is. And the way it flies!" He kissed his fingertips. "So smooth. You're gonna love it."
"If I ever get my hands on it."
"I'm sure they'll let you fly it, too." He gave a mischievous smirk. "They'll want to know how user-friendly it is for novices."
I punched his shoulder just hard enough to sting through his jacket.
"Ow!" He rubbed his arm, though the smile didn't fade from his face.
I snorted and shook my head. "Harry's off tonight. You and B'Elanna wanna come over for dinner?"
"Actually, we have plans on our own. I, uh…" Tom paused, glancing around before tugging me off the sidewalk. "Okay, what I'm about to tell you cannot go beyond you and Harry. We haven't told anyone yet—well, except… one other person, but that's different."
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. "Told anyone what?"
He grinned. "B'Elanna's pregnant."
The anticipation building in my chest vanished at once, all the weight dropping into my gut. "What?"
His excitement seemed to drain away, replaced by a look of confusion. "B'Elanna's pregnant."
I stared at him, mouth open, not sure how to respond. I'd thought for sure he was about to reveal a plan to propose marriage, but this...
Tom rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, that's not the reaction I was expecting."
Happy. I should have been happy for him. Instead, all I felt was shock and dread. I strained inside myself, hoping to find even a little bit of joy, but the emotion was out of reach.
Say something, I scolded myself. "I… I…" The words refused to form. Finally, I managed to force out, "That's great." The enthusiasm was obviously fake.
He frowned. "Really? That's the best you've got?"
I shook my head. It made no sense. Neither one of them had mentioned they were trying to get pregnant. Klingon genes were somewhat more compatible with Terran genes than Bajoran genes were, but it still wasn't usually something that happened without medical intervention. Between that and contraceptives, the odds of this being a surprise were practically non-existent. Had they been working with Kes on genetic modifications and fertility treatment? How long had this been going on?
But even harder for me to process was… "Why?"
Tom staggered back a step. "Are you shitting me, Tal?"
I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but I felt like I was spinning and coming apart. Alarms were blaring in my head like the red alert klaxon in a shuttle. This was stupid. Selfish. Reckless. Dangerous. Desperately, I grabbed at those thoughts like a lifeline, forcing myself to focus on turning them into something rational because it was the only way I could think of to hold myself together.
The only way to make him understand.
I stepped closer, trying to keep my voice low. "We're in the worst war this galaxy has ever seen. A war we can't win. We have no ship. A third of our crew is gone. We're still thousands of light years from Federation space, and we have no idea when the Borg are going to show up in orbit and assimilate us. You get that, right?"
He rolled his eyes. "Of course I get that. So what?"
Wails echoed in my ears. My wails. The jagged shard of a memory I'd give anything to forget.
"We're going to die!" I snapped. My voice was rising and I couldn't stop it. "There's no escaping the Borg. When they come for us—and they will come for us—your child will be nothing but fodder for the collective. Why the fuck would you choose that?"
I could almost feel my fingers pressed into the dirt—dirt that coiled up my arms and covered me with the greatest failure I would never be able to wash away.
"And after what we went through in that Prophets-forsaken hellhole!" I was almost yelling. "You know what happens in our kind of work. How could you do this?"
"BECAUSE I'M NOT YOU!" Tom shouted, shocking me into silence. "What happened to you was done on someone else's orders, but they can't come for me here, and goddamnit I deserve to have a life that doesn't revolve around fear!" He took a breath, paced away, ran his hands over his face, and paced back to me. "And so do you, by the way," he said more gently. "Jen is dead. Meg's on our side. We're not going back to Earth. This is our home now. Why not put down some roots? We can have a future if we make it happen."
I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes as I tried to force the flashback away. "You don't know that."
"No," he said, grabbing my shoulders, "you're right. I don't know that. But I have to try. We get one life. That's it. Just one. I don't want to get to the end of mine and realize I've wasted it."
"Tom—"
"No," he said again, giving me a shake. "Listen. Life has always been a risk. On Earth, we had the illusion of safety, but that's all it was. An illusion. Since we've been gone, Earth has been attacked twice. Hundreds of sectors of Federation space were taken by The Dominion. Millions of Federation citizens and allies have died because of wars our so-called 'peaceful society' has been involved in."
I pressed my hands to my eyes, the weight of his gaze becoming too much to bear.
"There are no guarantees," he continued, "only bets. B'Elanna and I are taking this bet together. You can agree or disagree. That's your choice. But this is our choice, and we choose to try for the life we want. The least you could do is pretend to be happy for us."
My voice wavered, throat tight with tears. "And Sinoso? Aren't you afraid?"
Tom sighed. "Of course I'm afraid. But Tal—"
"Janeway to Eelo."
I jumped, hands dropping to my chest. Clearing my throat, I dragged open a zipper pocket in my jacket and extracted my combadge, squeezing the delta-shaped device between my fingers. "Eelo here," I answered as steadily as I could. "I've got Tom with me."
"Good, he should hear this, too. A report came a few hours ago from Unimatrix Zero forces on the Delta-Gamma Quadrant border. Unimatrix Five has been assimilated into Loran's collective."
The little bit of air in my lungs came out all at once.
"That just leaves two other collectives," Tom said, his face paling a bit.
"Annika has called a meeting tomorrow morning," Janeway said, "and she specifically asked that you, Talia, be there. It's already been cleared with your supervisors at the shipyard. Be in council room two at tenth hour sharp."
"Aye, Captain," I said.
"Janeway out." The line went dead.
Tom and I were silent for the rest of our walk back to the housing complex.
The next morning, I sat at a long table with Janeway, Sisko, Tuvok, Annika, Kes, and Mezoti. It was a strange selection of people, and by the look on Janeway's face she was just as confused as me.
Once the last of us arrived, Annika nodded at Mezoti.
Everything about Mezoti's demeanor seemed out of step with the young age she appeared to be. Her posture was straight, hands folded on the table. She looked calm, confident, and authoritative.
Of course, she wasn't a child—not really. She'd only played at being one for a while.
"The time for secrets is over," she began. "I have spoken with your emissary, and he has convinced me that you must learn what I know about the El-Pauvian called Loran."
"El-Pauvian?" I asked. "Annika told us she was El-Aurian."
"She is of the El-Aurian species, but her homeworld was the El-Aurian colony of Pauvia. It was the first planet they colonized after building the transwarp conduit that led them into what you call the Delta Quadrant, and it became the center of their territory in that region of space. Eventually, they built a third transwarp hub there and began traveling further into the quadrant, colonizing other uninhabited planets and building more conduits and hubs."
Travelers. Listeners. That's what many El-Aurians called themselves. They had been explorers like us, only they were a great deal more advanced.
Until the Borg took it all away.
"But this is unimportant," Mezoti continued. "What matters is that you know how Loran became Borg. I will show you small pieces of the memories I carry from a previous secret-keeper called Jovar, however I must be careful. It will be overwhelming."
Janeway nodded. "Do what you have to do."
Mezoti gestured to Kes across the table, whose gray hair curled around her face and over her shoulders. "I have asked Kes to provide an extra layer of telepathic protection. She will help facilitate a connection between my mind and all of yours. We will not intrude on anyone's private thoughts, however there may be some emotional transference and physical discomfort. Does everyone consent to this arrangement?"
"Aye," I said, my voice joining with the rest.
Mezoti gave a slight nod. "Then let's begin."
Suddenly, I was sitting in a different chair, a vibrant purple velvet thing wide enough that I could have sat cross-legged if I wished to. The ornate meeting room was furnished with nine such chairs ringing a large circular table. Seven of the chairs were occupied by members of the El-Pauvian Executive Council, and one held the last surviving El-Tarsian councilor.
Directly across from me sat Loran, the most senior councilor on Pauvia. She was outstandingly beautiful, with blue eyes, rosy skin, and hair the color of caramel that spilled over her shoulders in perfect, smooth waves. She was also the most formidable person of anyone in the room, both in mental prowess and cunning.
"They've taken Tarsia," said the El-Tarsian, a severe-looking woman named Ashan. Her auburn hair was pulled into a neat bun behind her head, stark against her shockingly white skin, but her dark brown eyes reflected the terror she was trying so hard to hide.
Despite her efforts, I could feel it radiating from her. No doubt the others could, too.
As for me, this was hardly the first memory of global destruction I carried. Even so, it seemed a different thing to witness it myself. I had narrowly escaped with my life.
"The hub?" asked Loran.
Ashan's eyes met mine with a grave look, then darted away to meet Loran's. "We were the last ones through. They've taken it for themselves."
A white-hot pain slashed through my skull, tearing me from the memory and back into the present.
"Is everyone fairing well?" Mezoti asked.
Pained mumbles of assent crawled around the room.
"How did your secret-keeper come to be in attendance at this meeting?" asked Tuvok, who seemed to be less affected than the rest of us. I anchored my mind to his and the pain receded entirely.
"Councilor Ashan was meeting with him when her world was attacked," Mezoti said. "Jovar was the one who delivered her to Pauvia."
"Why was Ashan meeting with a Brenari secret-keeper?" Janeway asked.
Mezoti raised her chin. "Before the Devore invaded our worlds and forced us into work camps, we were a highly respected people. The secret-keepers were not only utilized to collect and retain Brenari history, but important events in many regions of space." Her eyes slid from one person to the next, circling around the table. "I will show you."
Without warning, the council room fell away and my own mind was swallowed by another's.
"Jovar," Loran said, looking at me. "Have the Brenari encountered The Powerless?"
"Borg," Ashan spat, her rage raising the ambient temperature several degrees. "They are hardly powerless anymore. We may as well refer to them by their chosen name."
Loran pursed her lips as a low murmur traveled throughout the room, then nodded at me. "Answer the question, please, Jovar."
"They have not come anywhere near our own space," I said, "but we have encountered the Borg in some of our travels to visit our more distant allies."
When I did not continue, she raised a sculpted eyebrow. "And? What have you learned?"
"That it is too dangerous to probe them with telepathy. Doing so causes severe neurological and psychological damage. But it seems their desire to improve themselves with new technologies has not changed, nor has their anger towards El-Aurians with higher abilities."
"Then our fears are confirmed," said Councilor Bennin, an unusually tall woman whose freckled, deep brown skin spoke of a life spent under her southern continent's hot sun. "They wish to see us destroyed."
"Yes," I said. "They want you destroyed, and they want your worlds and technology for themselves. They claim it rightfully belongs to them because they built it while they were in servitude to those with power."
"Ungrateful little peasants," growled Councilor Gott, his upper lip curling with disgust. He was a muscular, black-skinned man with wiry gray and black hair whose great-grandparents had designed the transwarp network many centuries ago—and hired underclass workers to build it. "They refuse to accept the place that nature intended for them, and now look. They're proving exactly what we tried to tell them—that they simply aren't evolved enough to handle power."
I pressed my lips together, stomach souring at his words.
"They've redesigned themselves," said Councilor Orvin, a plump, slightly tanned individual from the continent just east of us. The ornate tattoos decorating their bald head shone in the bright overhead lights. "Natural order or no, they've changed the rules."
"They made themselves an abomination," Ashan spat.
"Perhaps," Orvin replied, "but we will have to reckon with them, and it does us no good to deny that they have power of their own kind now."
The pain came again, cutting across my vision until the Zahl council room came back into focus.
"Mezoti," Kes said, "could you explain a little more about the Brenari's relationship to the Borg and why El-Aurians referred to them as 'The Powerless'?"
Janeway was still massaging her temples, but her eyes flicked to Mezoti with interest.
"None of the El-Aurian worlds were near Brenarus," Mezoti said, "but two were located near the underspace network. When the rebellion of their underclass became a serious threat, many connected to the network were concerned. The Brenari sent Jovar to Tarsia to discuss the issue."
I frowned. "Wait. Are you saying the Borg were originally El-Aurians?"
"Correct. They were individuals who lacked the mental gifts of others among their species. They were referred to as 'The Powerless' by those with greater abilities and were considered to be less evolved than other El-Aurians. They invented a number of cybernetic implants and augmented themselves in an attempt to be accepted into society."
"But they weren't accepted," I said, though it was obvious.
"The government considered them an abomination and forced them to remove the implants," Mezoti explained. "They escaped, founded their own colony, and evolved for a century on their own. When they became strong enough to do so, they attacked their former homeworlds."
"Beginning with Tarsia," Kes said.
Mezoti nodded, then glanced around the table. "Has everyone recovered enough to continue?" The question was met with nods and verbal affirmations, but she studied each of us a moment more before relenting.
When the next memory blossomed in my mind, I found myself in a smaller room, more private than the last. Four loungers were arranged around a low table, which was set with a carafe and two goblets of wine. Across from me lay Loran. She was sipping from a goblet being held for her by a dark-haired, blue-lipped man whose body reclined just behind hers.
Q.
Loran gently pushed the goblet away and smiled seductively at Q. "That's enough, my love. Finish the rest."
"My pleasure," he purred, kissing her painted pink lips before gulping down the goblet's remaining contents.
Ashan made a sound of disgust from the lounge next to mine. "Are we here to watch you fuck? I thought you said you had a plan."
Q pushed Loran's silky hair back and nipped at her ear. "Would you like to watch, Councilor? You might learn a thing or two."
I held back a snort of laughter.
"So eager," Loran teased, taking Q's empty goblet and setting it on the table. "But our guest is correct. We must develop a plan first. Lucky for you, my love, I already have one, and it involves you. All you have to do is say yes, and then—" she dragged his hand down to her thighs— "I'm yours for the rest of the night."
His fingers curled into the skirt of her dress. "Talk quickly."
Loran's lips curled into a sly smile, giving me a wink before turning to Ashan. "With their vast numbers of minds unified into a single collective consciousness, we cannot hope to defeat them in a direct confrontation. So I propose a different strategy—we create a collective of our own."
Ashan's face reddened, and the temperature rose a few degrees. "Are you suggesting we make ourselves an abomination, as they have, in order to win the war?"
"Not at all. I'm suggesting we take the strongest among us and link our minds together in a more evolved way." She reached back to caress Q's face, tilting her hips back as she did. "With the help of someone even more evolved than us. Then we infiltrate their so-called collective mind and break it."
This time when we returned to the present, no one spoke for several seconds.
"He agreed, didn't he?" I finally asked, though I could easily guess the answer.
Mezoti gave a slight nod. "He did."
Of course he did.
"But it didn't work," Janeway said.
"No. They were assimilated. After that, all of the El-Aurian worlds fell, one by one, and the Borg became more powerful than ever."
"How did Loran and her associates become primary administrators within the collective?" Tuvok asked.
Annika answered instead. "Their superior mental capacity and unique telepathic connection must have caused a radical restructuring of the hive mind. The collective's memory is fragmentary prior assimilation of the El-Aurian worlds. It is the job of administrative drones to bring order to chaos."
"And they brought the ultimate order," I said.
Annika's eyebrow twitched. "Correct."
"So how does this information help us now?" Janeway asked.
For the first time all morning, Sisko spoke up. "It tells you what you need in order to bring the last of the queens together so you can end this war."
Janeway looked at him expectantly. "Which is?"
Light flashed in my periphery, drawing my eyes towards the back of the room where Q leaned up against the wall.
He raised his dark eyebrows. "Me."
"Q," Janeway growled, no doubt infuriated over what we had all just learned.
"It's about damn time you showed up," Sisko snarled. "This is your mess, but the Prophets—"
"Have made it even bigger," Q interrupted.
Sisko's eyes narrowed. "At least we did something. You wanted to wash your hands of this entire universe."
"Better that than pulling on half a million threads of the timeline and spawning multiple new timelines that none of us have any control over—not to mention creating an entirely new life form for us to deal with." Q clucked his tongue. "Your Prophets really need to stop doing that."
"Then why are you here?" Janeway asked before Sisko could take their argument further.
Q sighed. "The continuum has decided that this issue must be dealt with, and I must be the one to deal with it. Thanks to His Holiness here—" Q gestured towards Sisko, who snorted and shook his head— "we have a genetically engineered, Prophet-powered Ocampan on the loose in the cosmos. Naturally, Susperia took an interest and has now convinced said Ocampan that the solution is to let Loran assimilate the remaining queens, then to enter the hive mind through Loran and destroy the Borg from within."
I raised my eyebrows. "And the continuum doesn't like that because…?"
Q's dark eyes met mine. "It risks the collective learning too much about what it is to be one of us."
"You mean an ascended being," Kes said.
"Yes."
"Susperia intends to murder every individual within the collective," Annika said. "Will your alternative come at the same price?"
"Mortal life is a blip on the map of the cosmos," Q replied, giving her a superior look. "It seems valuable to you because you are mortal and that is all you understand."
"I understand a great deal," she said coldly.
"Not nearly as much as you think you do, dear."
Her jaw tightened, muscles flexing under her skin.
"However," Q continued, "if we act quickly—and you people don't do anything stupid—there is a chance we can dissolve the hive mind without such unnecessary loss of life."
"Alright," Janeway said, folding her hands on the table and fixing him with her steely gaze. "I'm listening."
