Chapter Fifteen
Stardate 54260.0 (16 April 2377)
USS Scamp
Sector 04341 – Near the Lesser Riven nebula
"Captain, please! Won't you reconsider?" Commander Ronata Vribb was obviously distressed to see Rodenko lead the away team back to the Finback.
Boris stepped onto the transporter dais, joining the chief engineer, Lt. Commander Slevon and two other engineers. He favored the Bolian XO with a strained smile. Lack of sleep and worry over his friends had left him in a testy mood.
"Your objection is both noted and appreciated, Commander," he replied in his thick Russian accent. "But now is not the time for sentimentality. I am most familiar with the Finback and Commander Slevon and his men are best suited to assist me in accessing the ship's database."
"Sir," she continued with typical Bolian stubborness, "starfleet regulation number . . ."
". . . is subject to overrule by the commanding officer under extenuating circumstances," Rodenko finished. "I'm quite aware of the regulations, Commander. You may submit a formal protest if you wish, but I am going over to that ship!"
Ronata wilted slightly. "I won't do that, sir. But I still think it's a mistake for anyone to set foot on those ships - we still don't know what happened to the Eku."
"That's precisely why we must go back!" retorted Rodenko, his patience worn to a bare thread. "We've discovered nothing by creeping along with our sensors. The Schuylkill has turned up nothing useful, nor have their sensor drones. Now, please return to the bridge, Commander, I don't have time to argue with you."
Vribb stiffened and her blue face turned a shade of lavendar, but she nodded in acquiescence and left the transporter room.
Composing himself, Rodenko took his place by Slevon, who raised an eyebrow but wisely said nothing.
"Energize" ordered the Captain, sharply.
* * *
Stardate - Unknown
SS Eku
Sector - Unknown
Castille rubbed his chin as he tried to figure out how to operate the unfamiliar coffee maker.
"Computer, activate coffee machine," he stated.
A sudden giggle behind him caused him to turn. Delta Simms was regarding him with a mix of affection and amusement.
"You didn't just talk to the coffee maker!" she said, and began to laugh again.
Feeling foolish but not quite sure why, he folded his arms and gestured at the device. "Let's see you do any better!" he responded, grumpily.
Still smiling, Delta walked over to the coffee maker and pulled out the battered steel caraffe. She filled it with water from the sink, then looked in the overhead cabinet. Finding a pouch of coffee, she opened it and poured the contents into the filter basket of the machine.
Castille watched in puzzled fascination as Delta poured the water from the caraffe into the coffee maker's reservoir, then pushed a switch. A red diode began to glow and the little coffee maker soon rumbled to life, filling the galley with the inviting aroma of freshly-brewed coffee.
Forgetting his irritation, Castille looked at Delta with admiration.
"How did you know how to do that?" he asked.
She smiled, hazel eyes twinkling. "My Dad's hunting camp had one like this. No replicators in the woods near Sylacauga, Alabama," she said.
"You actually hunted? Live animals? With weapons?" Castille's astonishment caused Delta to laugh again.
"Well sure! 'Course, we don't use rocks or spears any more. Neural disruptors are used by hunters back home - it's quick and painless to the deer we harvest."
"It still seems . . . well, kind of barbaric!" he blurted.
Delta pulled two mugs from off a shelf. "Sweetie, you've always lived in the city. I'm a country girl. Hunting's always been a part of my way of life. We have to thin the deer herd each year or their population grows beyond the land's ability to support them. Then, the deer die off due to disease or malnutrition. Believe me, managed hunting is much more humane."
Castille still looked doubtful. "But still . . . to kill innocent creatures . . ."
Delta poured coffee into the mugs. "O.C. - there's been a debate over hunting for five hundred years. It doesn't bother me if you're against it - just don't expect me to change my ways, okay?" Her eyes were still warm and friendly, but there was a hint of flintiness there as well.
He took a sip of the coffee, surprised at how good it was. He grinned at her.
"Are all the girls in Alabama like you?"
"Me? Shoot, I'm just a typical southern gal, O.C. We're all just sweetness 'n light."
"I just bet you are," he said, earning a punch in the arm.
* * *
Solly and K'lira regarded each other warily across the Eku's bridge. Solly had no doubt that Commander Simms had intentionally left them with bridge duty so they could 'resolve their differences.'"
K'lira remained focused on her tri-corder, trying to track the Captain's whereabouts. Thus far, his life-signs remained on the bridge. Solly hoped that he'd soon return from his tet-a-tet. If he returned.
He leaned back in the helm chair, arms folded, and brooded about the young woman who sat a few meters away. It was hard to believe there was a time they had been very close. Those days seemed like another life-time.
"You still got a lock on the Skipper?" he asked. He wasn't sure why he asked the question, other than the silence was beginning to grate on his nerves.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I do know how to use this, Senior Chief. If I'd lost his signature, you would know it."
Brin blew out a breath in frustration. "Is that how it's going to be, K'lira? Do you just have to smart off at me at every opportunity."
Rune uttered a sarcastic bark of laughter. "I don't believe this! You are actually playing the indignant father?!" she shook her head. "Simply unbelievable."
Solly rose suddenly, feeling both frustrated, angry, and . . . yes, a little afraid. "Just what is wrong, K'lira? Huh? What - is - wrong?"
She drew herself up and gazed at him, her emerald eyes burning with unfettered emotion.
"How dare you even ask me that!" she hissed. "Where were you when I needed you seven years ago? Huh? Where. Were. You?!" Her chest heaved and tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
The sudden eruption of enraged indignation caused Solly to take a step back. He felt like he'd been hit in the gut with a heavy stun round.
He swallowed. "K'lira - I couldn't speak on your behalf at the inquest . . . I wasn't present when . . ."
"That's not what I meant!" Her anguish was pouring out now, the initial tears had unleashed a torrent of repressed grief and hurt. "I knew you couldn't testify, I'm not stupid! But you could at least have showed up! Every day for ten days I sat in the chamber, grilled by the brass and guard-house lawyers. Every day, I thought you would come, just . . . to be there for me - like you always were when I was a kid."
Solly stood silently, allowing the accusations to hit him and sink in, like barbs from arrows. He didn't try to defend himself.
He couldn't. Everything she was saying was true.
She glared at him, her chest still heaving. "Well? Aren't you going to say something? Or are you going to just be tough and silent - like you were then?"
"I was wrong."
She frowned at him. "What? You were wrong?" She uttered another short, harsh laugh. "Is that supposed to be some sort of explanation?"
He forced himself to stare into the inferno of her gaze and took a step forward. "Just so we're straight on one thing, K'lira . . . I've always been very proud of you. That has never changed!"
Her expression was still hurt but also confused. "What . . . what is that supposed to mean? How can you even say that, after my court martial!"
"I'm not saying you were innocent or guilty - I didn't see it go down. You did what you did for a shipmate - I understand that, might've done it myself." He frowned, frustrated at how difficult it was to express himself to her.
For her part, K'lira seemed willing to let him speak his mind. She continued to glare at him with crossed arms, but she didn't interrupt.
"I'm a strong guy - always have been. I had to be, just to survive as a kid - you know a little about that too. I've learned to set aside physical pain, learned how to get inside my enemy's head to out-think and out-fight 'em. I've seen men and women die - a few in my arms. And I've killed too. Too many times to remember. If there's a worse place than Verex IV waiting for me when I die, well - so be it. I don't regret what I've done for the service."
He took a breath and swallowed. For a moment, there was no sound on the bridge except for the slight hum of the environmental system and the steady beep from the scanner. K'lira's expression was unreadable, but she listened intently.
"But, I will always regret not standing by you."
She continued to gaze inflinchingly at him. "You still haven't told me why you avoided me," she said, quietly.
There was a pause before Solly answered. "I was afraid."
She frowned in puzzlement.
"I was afraid . . . to see them hurt you, to judge you. I'm not sure . . . that I could have controlled myself. If I had been there . . . I honestly don't know what I would have done."
She continued her gaze, nodding slightly. "Look," she began, "Um, could you just . . . leave the bridge for now. I can't handle being around you right now and I still need to . . ." She gestured to the tri-corder.
He held his gaze a few moments longer, then nodded slightly and headed slowly for the ladder. He hesitated, "K'lira . . ."
She held up a hand and sat at the Ops station, turning away from him. "Please. Just . . . go."
* * *
The apparition that was and was not Sonari Akinola again closed her eyes and grimaced, as if in pain or great concentration.
Joseph Akinola felt sickened. He tried to push away the thought that his parents and his uncle and aunt had been assimilated, enslaved by the Borg. He didn't notice that his fists were tightly clenched and trembling.
"Tell me what you can," he said in a raspy voice.
She opened her eyes. "I will show you," she said.
FLASH
Suddenly, images began to pour into Akinola's eyes - scenes from his very early childhood, the family's rare trips to Nigeria, piloting the Eku under his father's watchful eye, meals together, and . . .
FLASH
Joseph was in the escape pod in which his mother had placed him and his little sister so long ago. Except, he was his sixty-year old self. Melody was not there, but his mother stood by him, looking exactly as she had that fateful day.
You remember what happened. He heard her voice in his mind and he nodded.
We didn't know who . . . what they were at first. Your father knew they were dangerous though. That cube was hundreds of times larger than any ship we'd ever encountered. He told me to get you and Melody into the escape pod, which I did. But this time, I knew . . . just knew, I'd never see you again.
Akinola turned to face his mother. She still stood by him, but now her face was a pale gray, dark implants dug into her flesh and an optical device glowed a menacing red. A tear flowed from the remaining eye of his mother - the Borg drone.
I will not tell you all that happened to us. Some things, you just don't need to know, son. Suffice it to say, the Borg captured our ship in some sort of tractor beam - several of them materialized on the Eku. Your father and your Uncle Robert tried to fight them off. They hit two of the drones with pulse rounds before . . . well, they overcame us quickly. They took us on their ship. I was paralyzed, couldn't move as they . . . changed us. We became part of the collective. Time passed . . . how long, I cannot say. A small part of me was aware, but I was trapped in my own mind - a prisoner of the collective.
FLASH
Akinola and his mother stood inside one of the vast Borg cubes, perhaps the same one he had "visited" in a previous vision.
If this is a vision. he thought, wryly. His mother once more appeared as her normal self. He was relieved not to see her ensconsed in the accursed Borg appliances.
Akinola finally found his voice. "What happened to you and to the . . . others." he couldn't bring himself to say, "Borg."
She nodded and looked at the distant regeneration chambers. A look akin to regret crossed her dark features.
We assimilated many beings and added their essence to serve the collective. Akinola shivered slightly, hearing such words come from his mother - even if the words were only in his mind.
One day, we encountered a new species. They called themselves the V'Griid . . . They tried to resist, but resistance is futile.
Or so we believed.
* * *