Shadows of the Night, Part XXVI

Things were getting interesting now, Kalib noticed from his ship as his sensors gave him a distorted view of the antics of the Federation troops as they tried to face off against the approaching Borg army. One shot already fired; won't be too much longer until their weapons were useless, and they were trapped. He'd warned them, but no, they wouldn't listen. Well, this is what happened when you screwed around with the Borg.

He sighed. Must be getting soft in my old age, he thought as the crosshairs appeared on the side of the Pyramid. He pushed the button and two torpedoes slammed into the side of the tetrahedron, blowing out a crater at least a couple of kilometers across. That should distract them a little, he thought as he leaned back in his chair.

Then he heard the descending, spiraling "whir" sound. Kalib was out of his chair in under a second. "What the hell are you doing here," he growled at the newly arrived drones. Damn, he thought, they must have extrapolated my position from the missiles. That's what I get for going soft. He stabbed at the controls to send his ship in a random course away from the Pyramid as he prepared to face the drones.

The drones began their slow heavy steps down the stairs towards where Kalib stood. These must be the new drones, he thought. They were about as tall as he was, with three legs. Species 8472 maybe? he thought distantly as they tried to circle around and attack him from all sides. Well, he thought, this should be very interesting.

"How much further to the landing area?" Riker asked as they pounded down another walkway.

"Two point three kilometers," Ens. Nevison shouted over the din. He screamed as he was grabbed and yanked into a small opening in the wall, limbs flailing as the Borg injected its nanoprobes into his neck. Lightner killed the drone, but it was too late; Nevison lay convulsing on the deck as the nanoprobes did their work. He looked up to Riker and nodded, or did the best imitation he could. With a knot in his stomach Riker fired, putting the ensign out of his misery. He scooped up the tricorder and they moved on.

They ran as fast as they could, trying to cut down the distance before the Borg managed to trap them here. Three drones appeared ahead, blocking their path. They fired, downing the first one, but the other two were unaffected as they continued their slow gait towards them. Riker turned to head them back in the previous direction, but their path was blocked from behind by another approaching group of drones. He glanced at the tricorder: five hundred meters. Might as well be five million, he thought as he tried to find a place to go, but saw nothing. As he'd feared, the Borg had trapped them, and it was all over but the assimilation.

Kalib doesn't carry an energy weapon. This may strike many as a bit odd, but fighting the Borg in his youth had taught him that relying on those kinds of weapons were too restrictive. After all, the point of them is to kill over a distance, and why limit yourself when you don't have to. He pulled out his throwing knives and concentrated on the Borg approaching to his left. He knew how to fight drones; they adapt to energy weapons. You want to kill it, you need to use physical attacks. He tossed three knives, end of over end, into the torso of the nearest drone. The blades sunk deep into the drone's exposed flesh, and once they'd penetrated the blades split open into a half-dozen tiny razors, then generated an intense plasma surge into the torn flesh. The drone was weakened, but not dead, so reluctantly he grabbed the Daaetchi ceremonial axe off the wall and charged, mostly decapitating the drone but snapping the handle in the process. He cursed as he tossed it to the floor; there were only three of those left in the universe now.

As he turned around another drone made a grab for him, but he ducked under it, and drove his full body strength into an uppercut, knocking the drone backwards across the room, but still not killing it. These are some tough ones, Kalib admitted to himself as he faced against the third drone. He kept a strong focus on the drone as it lunged for him, slipping out of the way and grabbing the limb. He spun towards its torso like some bizarre ballroom dance and wrenched the limb from its socket, then driving his elbow into its face. Having thrown off its equilibrium, he grabbed it and yanked it forward, slamming its forehead into the corner of one of his controls, piercing its skull and causing greenish-black blood to ooze out. The drone dropped lifeless to the floor as he turned to face the last one. It lunged for him and he sidestepped it, reaching and grabbing its neck in both hands. However, the drone had anticipated the maneuver, and while he held the creature in his hands, its fist came up next to his neck, and he felt the hot sting of tubes entering his carotid artery. He screamed and twisted the neck around three hundred sixty degrees, letting it drop lifeless to the floor.

He fell to his knees and quivered as he touched the open wounds in his neck. No... no... He felt the warmth starting to flood into his body, followed by a cramping sensation. No! he bellowed across his ship, as he leaned over and retched among the corpses of the latest Borg to attack him, the ones who had finally done it.

They were trapped, and Luke knew the time had come to fight. So while Riker considered the options, and realized there were none, the Jedi leaped over the heads of his comrades and landed in front of the group, quickly bringing his lightsaber in a horizontal swipe to dispatch them quickly. "Come on!" he shouted as he ran down the walkway, the stunned Federation officers in quick pursuit. He felt a flicker of warning and ducked down under a pair of cybernetic arms, simultaneously bringing his lightsaber up into the chest of the drone and lifting, slicing its torso and head in half. He gave a push with the Force to knock over the drones that stood behind it and swung to his right to decapitate this drone. He was operating solely on reflexes now, the Borg trying to overwhelm him, but with the Force as his ally he was always one step ahead of them. He chopped down four more drones and sped down the corridor to his right.

Luke ground his teeth. Those gray faces... they just pushed his buttons. The sight of them just screamed "evil!" to him, and it was hard not to hate them. They were a scourge, destroyers of civilizations and worlds, never showing mercy or empathy. Those gray faces, that black body armor, those tubes and implants... they were the ugliest thing imaginable.

"Take a left at the next junction," Riker shouted over the noise of their pounding feet. Luke turn and speared two Borg through the chest with one thrust of his saber, sending them sparking to the floor. He followed up with a series of downward slashing moves that annihilated the Borg forces that blocked their path. It wasn't exactly graceful, but it got the job done. They ran on and on, the Borg continuing to try to find ways to ambush them, but failing to understand how the human could know they were coming. Finally, recognizing the futility of their current tactics, the Borg adapted.

Luke dug in his heels and ground to a halt, the Federation officers nearly knocking him over. "What's the problem?" Riker asked.

"Force field," Luke said, tapping the invisible wall with his saber. No good, they'd need to find some other way.

He saw Riker looking around overhead, then he lifted his phaser rifle and blasted a pyramid shaped device hanging from the ceiling. The shield flickered for a second, but returned. "Damn! Redundant power sources," Riker muttered. "See if any of you can find the power conduit for this generator. We're almost there."

Their tricorders were out, scanning the walls while Luke stood there, waiting. "There," a crewman said, pointing to a collection of pipes running along their wall. He fired at it with his rifle, but nothing happened. Luke plunged his saber in, and a series of sparks flew out, overloading the shield generator but also damaging his lightsaber. He flipped the switch several times, but nothing happened.

Behind them there was a scream as another crewman was grabbed by a drone. A second reached for Riker, but he slammed his phaser rifle into its head. "Go!" he screamed. And they ran the last ten meters to their transport site, the Borg close behind. Riker slapped his commbadge, his voice rushed under the tension of the moment. "Riker to Enterprise five to beam out!"

The Borg reached for them just as the Borg ship turned into a white cascade, and they were gone.

Kalib pulled himself up to a kneeling position, pulling back his head to reveal a face twisted in a tight grimace, his teeth clenched, and the gray hue covering almost the entire left half of his face. His hand shot out and he cracked a panel open, putting out an instrument. Grimacing, he held it to the back of his head to stimulate his immune system, but after a few seconds a spasm caused him to crush it in his grip. He growled and heaved as vessels bulged out of his face and neck, clenching his fists repeatedly as his eyes screwed shut with concentration. Another growl, and then a roar as his fist slammed into the bulkhead followed by a heavy grunt and deep, quick breaths. He strained and tried to stand but fell back down onto one knee. He turned and slammed the side of his head into the bulkhead a few times and moaned. Then, as if in release, he relaxed briefly, and then tensed again, and turned.

The gray had receded, now covering only his neck and his cheek. He could feel the cramping start to lesson. His immune system was incredibly strong. "That's... right..." he bellowed in exhaustion across the empty ship. "You Hffellians ... can't - get - me!" He screamed and fell back down on the floor, exhausted. But the heat was gone, and he glanced briefly at the distorted reflection of himself in one of the consoles. His face all right. After a while of recovering he got up on his feet and walked weakly across the bridge. He gave the corpse of one of the drones a weak kick. "That'll teach ya," he said weakly. "That'll teach ya to kriff with me."

"Any word from Kalib?" Riker asked in sickbay as Dr. Crusher ran some scans over him and the rest of the away team. They felt fine, but it was best not to take any chances.

"No sign of him," Geordi replied. "We do know that he tried to save you while you were on board the Borg ship."

"You don't think he was assimilated?" Dr. Crusher asked.

"Him? I pity any drone the Borg send up against that lunatic."

"Regardless," Riker said, hopping off the examination table. "We've got to get this information back to Starfleet immediately. It's vital we find a way to deal with this Borg ship somehow."

"I don't know, captain," Geordi replied. "I can't imagine anything that could destroy that."

"If not," Riker said, "It's the end of the Federation."

The station appeared as a series of disks stacked on one another, slowly spinning in the emptiness of space near the entrance to the Bajoran Wormhole. While the Wormhole was no longer the one and only means of reaching the Gamma Quadrant, it still was able to cut days off a journey, which could mean all the difference sometimes. The Millennium Falcon swooped in and took a position at one of the smaller docks along the upper platform.

"You're still running this place," Han said as he strolled into Quarks. "I'd thought by now you'd find some way to lose it and return to your scoundrel existence."

"You're enough scoundrel for the both of us," Lando said as he shook hands with his old friend. "Quark, you remember Han."

"Always a pleasure, Mr. Solo," Quark said from behind the bar. "I've got an open seat at the Dabo table if you're interested."

"I'll pass this time, thanks," Han said, sliding up to the bar and ordering a drink.

"So," Lando said conversationally, "What brings you to our neck of the quadrant?"

Han took a sip. "Leia had some business to take care of here. Figured I'd take her personally, what with all the craziness that's been going on."

"What kind of business," Quark asked.

"Can't say," Han said, looking around the bar. "But whatever it is sure has put a downer on her mood lately."

Borui looked up as the woman walked gracefully into sickbay. She wasn't particularly tall, but she managed to carry herself in such a manner that commanded respect. She was dressed in a flowing white garment with a tan robe over the top, her hair pulled back in curling braids. Borui noticed the lightsaber at her belt. "You're Ambassador Solo?" she asked.

"Yes," she said quietly, staring at Seven. She walked slowly up to the unconscious form of the woman, placing her hand on her forehead, stroking it softly. "Have you made any progress?"

"No," Borui said with exhaustion. She was surprised to be feeling such strong sensations of guilt from her, and then it clicked. "You're responsible for this project, aren't you."

The ambassador closed her eyes. "Yes," she whispered.

"Well, I hope you're happy with the results."

She said nothing. She reached down and held Seven's head in both hands, bending down so that her forehead was less than an inch from hers. She stood that way for a long time, finally disengaging. "Any chance of her making a recovery?"

"Not likely," Borui said. "We seem to be all out of options."

"Ambassador!" came a shrill voice from the hall outside of Sickbay. "Ambassador!" A Ferengi came running in, smiling giddily. "Rentulin, pleasure to make your acquaintance!" he said cheerfully, grabbing and shaking her hand.

"Hey!" Borui shouted at him, causing the Ferengi to jump. "This is a sickbay. Pawn your filthy bits of junk somewhere else. This isn't the time or the place."

"When it comes to opportunity," Rentulin said, pulling on the lapels of his outfit, "the time and place is always now."

"Perhaps you didn't hear me," Borui said with a smile, then she grabbed his huge lobe, yanking the Ferengi over and screaming in his ear, "THIS IS A SICKBAY!"

"Ow!" the Ferengi danced around as he rubbed a finger in his ear canal. "If I've suffered permanent hearing damage, you'll hear from my attorney!" He scampered off.

"That was most surprising," the ambassador commented.

"Happens all the time here," Borui said dismissively.

"I meant his mind. Usually I can sense what someone's feeling, but with him, just a presence."

"Yes. Ferengi minds are impossible to penetrate. Just... a..." her eyes got wide.

"Something wrong?" she asked with concern.

Borui got up and marched towards the door. "You could say that."

"Where are you going?"

"To test a theory," she shouted back.

"And so the Vulcan says, 'Fascinating, but what happened to my pen?'"

Lando laughed a little, then stepped away from Han. "Excuse me a moment," he said as he saw Borui storming towards the bar. "Welcome commander. May I offer you a-"

"I want to see Quark," she said. She looked over and spotted the Ferengi working behind the bar. "Quark! Come here."

"What can I do for you, commander," he said in his typical hospitable tone.

"Drop the glass and get over here," she demanded.

He looked over at Han and then stepped out from behind the bar. "If this is about that shipment of plastoid armor, I've nothing to do with it."

"Stand here," she insisted. She seemed to stare at him for some time, then she slowly began walking around him, not taking her eyes off him. Quark seemed a little uncomfortable.

"What, what'd I do?" he asked, obviously distressed at the situation. She poked him in the back. "Ow! This is against several treaties," he said, rubbing the sore spot. She came around to the front, staring unblinking into his eyes. Quark looked at her suspiciously. "Look, I don't deserve to be treated this way. I'm a respected business man."

She tapped her communicator. "Operations," she said.

"Yes," came the reply.

"This is Lt. Comm. Borui. I want you to shut down all power to shop 42-AA for ten seconds."

"Hey, you can't do that," Quark said, now clearly agitated.

"This will disrupt business," Lando agreed. "You have a reason for this."

"If I'm wrong," she replied, "the next round is on me gentlemen."

"Wrong about what?"

"Cut the power," Borui said.

"You can't do this!" Quark insisted. "I have rights! I signed-"

And all the power in Quark's was turned off. A few groans of disappointment were heard as entertainment devices, gambling slots, and holosuites were shut down, but they were drowned out by the audible gasp of astonishment. Ten seconds later, the power returned.

"-lease with the Federation director of Commerce for undisrupted.... What, what're you all staring at?"

"What's going on here?" Lando demanded.

"Why are you asking me?" Quark said, shrinking away from the looks of everyone in the bar. "What?!"

"It was a perfect disguise," Borui said, shaking her head.

"What? What are you talking about?!"

"I'm sorry Quark. You're a hologram."

Quark stared at her. "A hologram. What are you talking about?"

"You're a projection of light. You're not real."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said suspiciously. "Of course I am."

"Quark, how did you survive the destruction of Deep Space 9?"

"I was away on business," Quark said.

"No, you weren't," Borui said. "Starfleet records said you were on board the station."

"Yes, and they were wrong," Quark said in a condescending tone. "Here I am."

"No, you're not." Borui shook her head. "The real Quark is dead, always has been. You're a reproduction, and a very convincing one. I can't even tell the difference with my tricorder in fact, but you can't fool the mind Quark. You're not really here."

"This is some kind of joke, right?" Quark said, starting to panic just a little. "I know who I am!"

"Quark," Lando said, unable to believe it himself, "we all saw you disappear. This explains why you never leave the bar, why you're up all hours of the night."

Quark stared at him, and tried to dismiss it. "I like it here. And I have insomnia."

"Well, Quark," Borui said, "If you really believe it, then there's an easy way to prove it."

"How?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Just step outside the bar," she said. "There's no holoemitters in the promenade, so if you walk out there we'll all know the truth and have a good laugh."

Quark stared at her with nervousness. "All right," he said, walking towards the entrance. "If it'll end this farce." He stopped at the entrance, unsure. After a moment, he reached out into the promenade very carefully. And then he screamed as his hand vanished. He stumbled back, falling to the floor, wailing. "It's not true! It's not true! This is a trick!!!" His cries could be heard across the promenade as he realized the horrible truth.

Go To Part XXVII
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