The Package Has Arrived

Chapter 13 of Ardra

Something was wrong. Instead of being on Queenie's ship, Ardra had exited the wormhole to arrive in blackness. She produced a small light to reveal the inside of a tank. Queenie. The Borg queen had diverted her terminus to end here. Instead of leaving, Ardra waited to see what would happen. First came roaring jets of flame. An old spell she had placed on herself kicked in: the greater the attack, the more its energy was channeled to defense against it. Next came intense electric shock, followed by star-hot plasma. The hiss of gas above heralded a respiratory challenge. This time she would spank Queenie.

Zapping into a vacant spot a few feet away, Ardra watched as Queenie directed several drones monitoring their instruments, clustered about a globular tank. They ignored her as she walked over and delivered a swat to Queenie's backside. It wasn't iron after all. As to what, she didn't want to know.

Queenie turned, plainly annoyed at failure of the ploy.

"Queenie, you never struck me as the type to play with a junior chemistry set. Know this: you can kill a mockingbird, but not a goddess." The goddess part was exaggerated, but it sounded good.

"What do you want, mage girl."

"One of your playmates. Moast has a little sabotage planned on his end."

The familiar insolent half smile appeared. "Do you not see a problem? Without his link to the Collective, he will wander aimlessly and do nothing."

Mess! Ardra paced a few feet, back turned. All was not lost, since she counted on Queenie's lust for conquest.

"There is a solution."

Ah. Back in business. A drone stalked over and waited. When a large cylinder pushed its way out the side of his head—with Ardra grimacing in distaste—Queenie played barbed fingertips over it.

The Borg queen paused. "What is the method of delivery?"

"Transporter beam that can penetrate shields."

Queenie made more adjustments, allowed the cylinder to retract. "The transporter beam will activate him."

"Well done, Queenie. You're a member of the girls' club, you know."

"Who will soon be members of the Collective." That maddening borgy smirk.

With a downward twist of the mouth, Ardra flashed out with her prize. The thrill ride along the quantum corridor required more effort with her burden.

And what a burden—a sack of doomsday epidemic. She hoped Moast knew what he was doing. The end point this time was easier to find. The sphere was like a light in a closet. She penetrated the shell, aiming for a large X painted on the deck of an Enterprise cargo bay.

Engineer la Forge stood ready. "Force field now!"

Ardra stepped through the field. "No need to worry, George. He's harmless if you keep him away from transporters."

"Geordi," he said, moving around the energy screen. "Just following the captain's orders. Wow—this one is loaded for bear, isn't he?" The drone had the usual arm extension with claw and data probes, which also made for a good swinging club. His eye piece lacked the blinking red light. Either he was out of it, or shamming. "I'm going to ask a favor, Ardra. How about you putting the transport band on him." He produced a metal ring with a mag lock. "I told Moast it's max range is forty thousand kilometers. He'll have the best shot at delivery if the other side is willing to talk trash before the shooting starts."

Ardra entered the field and attached the device under Geordi's critical eye. After several tries, he was satisfied with placement.

"I still think this is insane," he said. He touched his badge. "La Forge to bridge. The package has arrived."

"We're on our way," came Picard's reply.

In short order, the big bay doors parted to admit Picard, Riker, Moast and Vixia. The Romulan continued an ongoing harangue. "Picard, if you aren't going to take your turn at an octagon, we will."

"Patience," Picard said. "I won't breath easy until this Borg is off my ship. Ardra, we've just realized he may be worthless. There's no Collective on the other side. Not yet, anyway."

"Queenie reminded me. She did something to his head."

Riker cast the drone a dubious look. "What exactly did she instruct him to do?"

"Well, mess me sideways—I forgot to ask her."

"We can assume," Riker mused, "he's going to assimilate everything that moves until he's gunned down."

Vixia was less than subtle in taking Moast aside, where they stood among geodesic containers. "I reserve judgment on your alleged exploits, but I was eyewitness to your ingenious neutralizing of the Dominion portal. For that reason, I'm requesting a temporary assignment on Orchidia."

"Which we both know," said a grinning Moast, "is to gain insight into tactics that will break the stalemate between you and Picard."

The Romulan's exotic eyes narrowed. "You continue to vindicate my expectations. Understand that I'm not a seductress who wants to worm secrets out of you. That would cheapen us both."

Moast did a slight nod of acknowledgment. "Whatever the career field, you can't escape politics. I'll agree for a little favor in return." A ridged brow raised suspiciously. "You'll be the first non-human anyone has ever seen, an overnight celebrity. A media interview in my ship's cargo bay will strengthen my faction. They're called the Consortium, a conglomerate bloc who are letting me command Orchidia as long as I return a profit."

She relaxed a little. "We Romulans are well-versed in power ploys. I will endure being a commercial commodity for a short while."

"Then," Moast said, "we'll get the drone stuffed into my cargo compartment and be on our way. First, I'll familiarize you at tactical. It's quite a step down from commanding a ship like Valdor."

"And a challenge for your first officer. She will see me as an interloper."

"It builds character. Shall we go?"

Picard watched Moast and Vixia return. "Something I should know about?"

"Call it an officer exchange," Moast said. "With no exchange on my side."

Riker could see it wasn't a joke. "Commander Vixia is going back with you—with that thing stored at your backs?"

"I think that was the plan," Picard said, "minus the last minute surprise. Geordi, beam this Borg directly behind the flitter, and stand ready with a force field if needed."

"Aye, Captain." Geordi went out, followed by Moast and Vixia.

Picard next had to broach a request to Ardra, who regarded him under lowered brows. "I know it's asking a lot, Ardra, but it's easier to stop an invasion before it gets started. We risk losing the sphere if the Kardashian/Ferengi fleet attacks." Ardra had done some research on them. She referred to Kardashians as "rope necks", and Ferengi as "helmet heads".

"Why not offer them a deal?" Riker suggested. "We admit one Kardashian and one Ferengi, on condition that their fleets disperse."

Picard poked out his lower lip in approval. "It makes perfect sense to a logical mind. Those are in short supply among that bunch." He and Riker looked expectantly at Ardra.

"All right," she said, arms spread in disgust. "I'll take your proposal to the rope necks first." She exited in a regular firenado that nearly singed the men's uniforms.

"I think she's mad," Riker said. "They'd be wise to accept, or strange things will start to befall them."

"Data to Captain," said Picard's badge. "Commander Moast's flitter is ready to depart."

"Clearance granted," Picard said. Shaking his head in unison with Riker, he exited the cargo bay.