We Have An Accord

Chapter 23 of Ardra

Data's long attention span paid off when a program alerted him at the helm. "Commander, we have entry from octagon 1277." When it had fully opened: "It is a flitter piloted by Captain Picard and Vixia."

Riker allowed an outbreak of applause, as pleased as the others. "Beam him directly to the bridge. The Romulans will take the cue for Vixia, and the flitter will return on autopilot." Momentarily, Picard materialized. "Welcome back, Captain. Transferring command."

"Accepted, Number One. I'm sure you're all dying to know if our mission succeeded." He looked around. "Let's give her a minute." Sure enough, Ardra blazed into their midst, proof of recovery. Picard wasn't sure how to read her expression. "Good to see you're doing well, Ardra. My contact with your younger self was brief. What do you remember?"

"I remember spending three days in the labyrinth. Unnecessarily as it turned out. I returned to the arena to find a wild celebration over the demon star's demise." She made bold to sit in the command seat. "What happens now? Does Queenie go back disguised as an undead kitchen maid, waiting for a chance to jab Sisra?"

The crew turned uncertain looks on Picard. "Not possible. You see, the Borg queen merely accessed an ancient Borg relic in that era. It's now a closed book for her." He made an impatient gesture, and Ardra yielded the seat. "And yet, you've created for her a survival situation. She must get you before you get her."

Ardra frowned. "Wonderful. I've been planning all sorts of smack downs. Making her a miniature in a glass case; a weather sock atop a barn; a dartboard in your rec room—"

Picard waved it all away. "As long as she has that to look forward to, she'll remain on the run, constantly plotting against you. That unfortunately draws the Federation in."

"What are you proposing?" Riker asked. "A truce with a Borg? I'd have more trust in a Ferengi." He took his own seat. "Speaking of which, we have orders to resume patrol in that sector. A true research vessel will take our place here."

"Any discoveries out there yet?" Picard asked.

"It's frustrating. The Builder spheres were placed in desolate areas. They didn't want just anyone to find them. Our strategy is to keep trying octagons in the hope of striking it rich, and hope the Romulans don't beat us to it."

"I hope Starfleet understands," Picard said, "I must be back here in two weeks. "I'm best man at Moast's wedding with his dream girl."

Riker offered a hand. "It must be some girl who can hook that guy."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it, Number One. The tale I have to share will have Ten Forward packed to the rafters."

"Yawn," Ardra said. "Since I can't be there, I'm off on less sensual matters."

Picard rushed to join her at the base of the ramp. "Keep your guns holstered, Ardra. We're looking to calm the waters, not stir up a tsunami."

"One thing at a time, J L. First I have to find her." She flashed away.

Aboard a Ferengi Cruiser

Ardra blazed onto the bridge, thoroughly panicking the crew, who drew weapons. Since there was no profit in wasting a potential asset, no one fired. Ardra gave them a twisty mouth of disdain at how they scuttled about, looking sneaky.

Their leader approached, wringing hands in anticipation of a sure favor she had to ask. "I am Daymon Queeg, and I know who you are. You're the goddess who serves the Federation. What can you do for us?"

"I don't serve anyone, Damon. I own a planet called Ventax Two." The implications of that had them murmuring excitedly among themselves. "I'm sneaking up on the Borg queen. Get me close to delta quadrant, and they'll have less time to detect my wormhole."

"The Borg?" His mangled teeth bared in distaste. "We've had few encounters with them."

"I suppose even Borg have their standards." Ardra watched their heads bob at the slight. "Naturally you'll need a profit. I'm going to bring back a cube. Before I turn it over to Picard, you can have first pick of the goodies."

The mercenary Ferengi needed no help figuring the profit from such a deal. Queeg looked up from his huddle. "Madam goddess, we have an accord."

Borg Queen's Cube

Ardra zapped into the queen's chamber primed for battle, but the slab overhead was vacant. "Queenie, face me!" The call went unheeded. Perhaps Picard was right; a less bellicose stance was required. She strolled among the busy drones, stiff-armed one out of the way. It was clear that Queenie knew vengeance had come to call.

"Why that minx. She knows I can't swat a thousand cubes the way she can. One at a time would take forever and a third." Ardra sensed a complacency here; they thought she was stymied. "You there!" A drone lurched toward her as if on invisible strings. She put fingers to the bald gray head. "I can't locate you home world, but you can certainly take us there. Turn this oversized toy building block around and set course. And don't think I'm going to let Queenie blow this one up."

Proof of their being on the right course came when several cubes tried to stop them, only to be blown up before they got in range. Queenie got the message, and stopped wasting them. It took several days to arrive in a solar system full of spider webs that all converged on a nightmare gray world.

"Keep the meter running," she instructed the drone before flashing down to the surface.

Time of day never changed here thanks to an obsession with uniformity. Perpetual generated cloud cover pulsed lightning at the horizon. A tall pyramid belched flame as an extra measure of heat this far from the sun. Cubes in various stages of construction lay about, some already hovering. Other shapes in the sky were connected by transparent tubes, through which drones whisked along in suction. It was hard to see any sky past all the interlinked shapes up there. In the near distance, a massive spindle was alive with millions of interior lights, tapering up to support a gigantic disk. It dangled cables all the way to the ground, taking root like some trees did back home.

Ardra got tired of the sensory overload of it all. "Well, let's start getting Queenie's attention, shall we?" Having identified a power station deep below ground, she caused an anti-matter leak. A mile-wide section blew skyward. It took out some of the hovering structures and half a cube, rained chunks that set off secondary explosions. Bright flashed rippled through an obelisk grid, dropping slabs that crushed a gigantic dome.

"All right," Ardra said, flexing fingers. "I think we're warmed up now." She turned her attention to the spindle.

"Stop."

Ardra looked up at the figure standing atop a jumble of interlocking ramps. It walked down with a familiar leonine grace. Only when it drew near did she recognize Queenie. Now encased in metallic blacks and grays, only her face was exposed. A widow's peak helmet sprouted something akin to wings on a Viking helm. Wide shoulder guards resembled Samurai armor. The two faced off on a grated plaza that trembled from ongoing detonations underground.

"It was thought," Queenie said, "that my new appearance would appeal to your sense of the macabre."

Ardra definitely liked it, but kept her face bland. "That would be just as cute in a glass display at the Ventaxian senate." A tower toppled in an orgy of fire and sputtering electronics. Ardra's shield deflected a chunk of debris.

Queenie paced sideways, as did Ardra, two old west gunfighters taking each other's measure. "My drones tell me you have sanctified this meeting. It is the weakness of humanoids. You always keep your word."

"You can thank Picard for that. He knows I could chase you all over creation, and only make things miserable for millions of drones. But I'd corner you eventually."

"Such a waste of our time," Queenie said. "Picard proposes an understanding."

"I understand you all right, lady. Here's what we'll do—I stay in alpha, and you stay in delta. By the way—I'm taking the cube parked up there. I need a taxi."

Queenie did a slow blink of "who cares?". She had thousands more. "Picard has his understanding."

"Let's hope so, Brunhilda." Ardra blazed back up to the cube and ordered course set for alpha quadrant. Queeg could go beetling through it for a short time. Then she'd present it to the Federation as a windfall of knowledge about Borg tech. They might even learn how to un-borgify the crew.

"Maybe that's too much to hope for," she said, patting a passing drone on the head.