The ship’s warp core was an irrelevant blip when compared to the powerful singularity that fueled Gremadia but it would suffice as source of energy. Where the humanoids had been clever was in their use of bioneural gel packs. Individually, they mattered as much as a single-celled organism might. But when the gel packs were placed under the control of the Nacene mind, their capacity would grow exponentially. Voyager would become a thinking entity, not merely a space-faring container. The ship would be taken to the gateway. Once there, all those Exiles strong and brave enough to survive would receive the spore they’d rightfully earned. In their transformed state, they would fuse their will to the gel-pack mind. Voyager’s warp core would be exposed and the Key placed inside.
Exosia would be opened.
Gliding through Voyager’s walls on her way to engineering brought unpleasant recollections of Janeway. She knew that somewhere in this container, Janeway’s husk remained viable. It occurred to Phoebe that as much as she would savor the opportunity of dealing with Janeway herself, she could not be indulgent when far more urgent matters pressed upon her. She called out to one of her favorites—a Nacene who remained in Dfaaryan form and bestowed upon him the honor of destroying what remained of the captain. Find her and obliterate her, Phoebe ordered.
Phoebe and her warriors approached the cordoned-off area housing the warp core. As she approached the wall, a high-pitched humming noise alerted her that not all was as it had been when she had last come to this place. She ordered one of her warriors to step through the metal barrier. When he demonstrated reluctance, Phoebe forced the issue, physically propelling him toward the wall. His tentacles vanished—
The effect was instantaneous: He collapsed on the ground, his form quivering from molecular destabilization. The warriors surrounding him stepped back, their fear palpable.
So they’re trying to keep us out, Phoebe thought and ripped a panel from a wall that didn’t vibrate with the high-pitched humming of a forcefield. She wrapped her hands around the edges of the gray metal and channeled her energy into the matter. She came to know each molecule and atom and she excited them with her will. The panel glowed red with heat beneath her hands. She ordered the cowards to also grab hold of the panel and direct their energy into it. They would overcome the forcefield by disrupting it, no matter how long it took.
Together they slammed the panel into the engineering wall, the hollow clang of metal on metal echoing throughout the hallway. Phoebe sensed the forcefield wavelength altered just slightly when their panel encountered the forcefield. They would not bring the forcefield down, they would disrupt it just enough for Phoebe and her warriors to pass through to the other side. And as they continued their assault on the forcefield, Phoebe realized, from what she knew about Voyager, that they lacked the capacity to generate and maintain an energy barrier such as the one they were encountering. Something else must be aiding them, boosting their capacity. Tentatively, she reached her mind into the room beyond…Now, that’s interesting, she thought as she found a presence, not unlike the Nacene, communicating with…the gel packs.
The bridge was the calmest place on the entire ship. At first, Chakotay had been surprised that the Nacene had not attacked Voyager’s nerve center first. As the ship began moving toward the gash without any navigational interface, he realized that the Nacene didn’t need the bridge controls to take Voyager where they wanted it to go. Knowles’s fingers danced over the helm controls but command after command was overridden.
Voyager would go into the gash and they were helpless to stop it.
Already, the ship’s photonic energy drained away. Lights blinked off and on as the effect of the gash increased with every kilometer. Reports came pouring in of holodeck buffers destabilizing and phasers malfunctioning. Futile though it was, Chakotay ordered all nonemergency light or holographic systems offline. He felt like the boy who tried to save his tribe from flood by using a bucket to bail water out of the river. By his calculations, he theoretically had a few more minutes to determine whether or not initiating the autodestruct sequence would be necessary.
He exchanged looks with Tuvok. He knew without having to ask that the Vulcan had already accepted what Chakotay had hoped to avoid. He longed for the time to explain, to apologize for the mistakes he had made, for the way he had behaved toward the Vulcan whether outwardly or in his heart. From the expression in Tuvok’s eyes, Chakotay knew that all had been forgiven.
“Computer, queue autodestruct sequence by order of Commander Chakotay, authorization beta-mu-
five-eight-six.”
Tuvok spoke clearly and calmly. “Second authorization provided by Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, authorization alpha-two-six-four-one-three.”
“Acknowledged.”
“Begin silent countdown in five minutes,” Chakotay said. Still time to cancel the order but at least it would be in place if, for some reason, none of them lived to implement it.
Harry loved his parents and shared affection with them, but he felt embarrassed watching Kes and Kol as they both stood. She was so much tinier than Kol that he rested his hands on her shoulders and she wrapped her arms around his waist. As much as he didn’t want to intrude on their moment, he remained so stunned by Kes’s presence that he could barely rip his eyes away. He had so many questions—where had she been since she left Voyager, would she return and rejoin the crew?
Tom, on the other hand, seemed content to sit by and enjoy sharing her company again. He had moved to the pilot’s chair, occasionally looking back and exchanging smiles with Kes.
The Doctor sat down beside Harry, medical tricorder in hand, scanning him from head to toe. “Standard operating procedure,” he said cheerfully. “Examining members of an away team upon their return.”
“You’re taking this all very casually,” Harry said, watching the Doctor at work.
“You mean Kes?” He flopped his hand in a dismissive gesture. “We’ve been together for ages.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Oh really. So I take it you know why Kol is calling her ‘Mother.’”
“Of course I do. But I’m a doctor, not a gossip monger, so you’ll have to get your update elsewhere.” The Doctor examined his instrument. “Other than elevated hormone levels, which I assume can be attributed to her—” He jerked his head in q’s direction. “—you’re fine.”
Blushing, Harry rested elbows on his thighs and his face in his hands. q scrutinized him; Harry couldn’t tell if she was interested or amused. Tom was right. Emotional involvement with a Q was a bad idea on every level. He left his passenger spot and took the copilot’s seat beside Tom.
“Nice of you to join me.” Tom slumped back in the chair and stretched out his arms to their full span before placing his hands on his neck, elbows in the air.
“Aren’t you supposed to be piloting?”
“Engines don’t work.” Tom jerked his head toward Q, who waggled a few fingers at Harry. “He’s in charge. How else would we cross thousands of light-years in mere moments? Whatever propulsion system he’s got going, I’d love to share it with B’Elanna.”
The conversational volume between Kes and Kol increased. Both Tom and Harry turned toward what appeared to be an argument. “I will deal with my father’s people in my own way.”
Kes shook her head. “You can’t merely deal with them. Their fundamental existence will need to change—they cannot remain with the strings. The Nacene have had access to what they need to evolve past their current state. Because of their stubbornness, they literally haven’t seen what’s right in front of them.”
“Persuading them to embrace the very thing they have been so vigilant against will be difficult.” Exasperated, Kol threw up his hands and took a few agitated steps back and forth.
Placing her hands on his upper arms, Kes forced his attention back to her. “All creatures within Exosia, and the Nacene and Monorhans outside, will accept their destiny. The universe will never be safe otherwise. The only way they can fulfill the measure of
their creation is to evolve. They will see that. But only you can open the gateway to their next life.”
Saying nothing, Kol leaned back against the wall, engrossed in thought.
“You know I’m right,” Kes said quietly.
Kol took her by the hand. The tender gesture made Harry feel once again like a voyeur.
“Be my emissary to those in Exosia?” Kol asked.
Kes smiled. “And you will persuade the Exiles.”
Harry had forgotten how radiant Kes became when she smiled.
“When all is done, Mother, come with me?”
Raising a hand to cup Kol’s cheek, Kes touched him tenderly. “When the time comes, I will choose the path that I am meant to.”
That’s my girl, Kes, Harry thought. You’ll come back to Voyager.
Kol shot a pleading look at Q. “Surely you can make her see reason.”
“My life is out there,” Kes said, indicating the starscape spreading before the shuttle. “I have my own path to follow.”
The realization that Kes wouldn’t be returning to Voyager twisted Harry’s heart.
“Interfere with free will? I?” Q did a fair job of appearing insulted. “Besides, you know how it goes, my boy. Choice and—”
“Chance,” q finished for him. “We get it.”
“Go back to school,” Q said.
q yawned. “Good luck trying to make me—” She paused. “Can Harry come along?”
Harry perked up.
Q considered Harry for a long moment. “As long as Mr. Kim is agreeable to this…this…liaison. And if you promise to have Mr. Kim back in a few minutes.”
“You game, Harry?” q said, quirking one of those sexy-as-hell half-smiles.
“I’ll serve as your chaperone, of course,” Q interjected. “After all, someone needs to make sure Mr. Kim’s honor will be preserved.”
Before Harry had a chance to respond—though the giddiness that had suddenly overtaken him was answer enough—Q had snapped his fingers.
Seven remained calm as the reports of injuries and hull breaches mounted. Voices conjured faces. She could visualize Crewman Lang, fingers flying frantically over his console as he tried to seal off damaged areas and the expression on his face as the Nacene assaulted him. Part of her wished that the communications channel could be shut down, but she knew that she needed to know what was happening elsewhere on the ship. The modulating forcefield frequency would take a few minutes to overcome but not more than that.
Ripping open a panel, she reached her hand into the nest of tubing that Carey wanted her to recalibrate. Starfleet had placed safety sensors in the system to initiate automatic shutdown if energy levels climbed too high. Inserting her tubules into the computer interface, she systematically disabled every built-in safety protocol she encountered. The built-in redundancies frustrated her, consuming precious seconds as the clanging grew louder. When the last barrier came down, Seven called out to Carey to pour all their power into the forcefield.
The computer transmitted data to Seven indicating that the conduit temperatures had risen several degrees past the safety zone. By her calculation, the overload would not trigger cascading systems failure for at least five minutes. The forcefield would keep out the Nacene for a few minutes longer.
Or Seven’s modifications would make the autodestruct sequence unnecessary. Portions of Voyager’s crew had always suspected that Seven might be part of some larger Borg plot to destroy the ship. They might feel satisfaction that at last, they may be proved correct and that Seven’s presence could prove Voyager’s undoing.
She listened to chatter over the communication system and remembered the thousands of times she had participated in a Borg attack.
“There’s too many of them! Our rifles are out of toxin—”
“Hull breeches on decks seven, twelve, and fifteen.”
And the screams…the screams took Seven back to the assimilation chambers aboard a Borg cube.
The computer beeped. Seven queried the system, asking for a status report and learned temperatures had dropped. She asked for an explanation.
“General gel-pack relay failure in sections—”
“Run diagnostic,” Seven snapped irritably. Gel-pack relay failure. How was that possible? The rih were tired but that shouldn’t be enough to—
Hearing a dull thud behind her, she glanced over her shoulder.
A Monorhan had collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.
Across the room, Neelix called for a medic and when no one was forthcoming, he pulled the emergency kit off the wall mounting and rushed to the rih himself.
Another Monorhan collapsed.
Carey shouted that the forcefield was failing.
Engineering doors slid open.
Seven reached for her compression phaser rifle and crawled behind a console where she was hidden from view.
The Nacene had arrived.
With a hand wave, Phoebe threw the humanoids aside. She didn’t want to kill them lest she be denied the pleasures of watching them suffer. Instead, she would incapacitate them so they couldn’t interfere. And there they were, the Monorhans who had caused so many problems for her, encircling the warp core. She threw out her hand to shove them out of the way as she had the others but she met resistance. She exerted her will again but found more strength than she’d expected. Of course they are strong: they come from Nacene. This realization failed to dissuade her. Nacene or no, Exosia awaited.
Out of my way.
At their center, an ugly glob of flesh, the organic form of the abominations said, “You will have to destroy us before we move.”
Then we will destroy you.
A poof of toxin exploded into the air, felling two of her warriors. Phoebe shrieked, broke ranks, and launched into the air, where she would elude the poison. A humanoid had snuck up behind them, she saw. He pointed his weapon at her again. She reached into his body and exploded blood vessels in his brain. He clutched his head and toppled onto the floor.
Phoebe turned toward the Monorhans. She would not ask again. This time, she coaxed the gel packs into dropping the temperature below freezing, then further. The crude creatures could not endure under such conditions. As she suspected, the physical hardship made it impossible for them to defend against her, so as their resistance collapsed, she probed their bodies, found the air sacs that allowed them to respire. Yes, yes, she thought, gleefully squeezing each sac until it collapsed. She heard them gasping for breath, sensed their desperation as they suffocated. Toying with the Monorhans amused her for a few moments but then she grew bored and ordered her warriors to continue.
The warp core glowed blue, thrumming and pulsing with promised life. Phoebe removed the Key from within her robes, holding it before her. She approached reverently. None of the humanoids attempted to stop her—all of them had been dealt with. Their resistance impressed her, but in the end, they were an irrelevant distraction from the greater goal.
Partake of the spores, she ordered the Exiles.
As much as it would be a fitting fate for Chakotay to serve as conduit, she did not have the time to hunt him down and bring him here before these Voyagers did further damage. She would have to find another to take the Key. Reaching behind a lump of metal in her path, she discovered a human cowering. This one will do. Yanking the human up by the neck, she threw him down in front of her and pinned him to the ground with her foot.
The thrum-thrum-thrum of the warp core became the tempo of her energy. She would no longer be bound to this weak and pathetic form. She would return to a state of pure energy and thought. With one hand, she held the Key, with the other, a spore. She closed her eyes, parted her lips, and raised her hand to her mouth—
The toxin overtook her before the spore touched her lips. Phoebe frantically tried sending her thoughts to the Exiles, but paralysis had overtaken her. She knew she could defeat the toxin, but it would take time…precious time…
A humanoid stepped out from behind a console, holding a
weapon. Phoebe recognized the Borg. She had seen what they had done on worlds across the galaxy. They were formidable opponents.
“I will take the Key,” the Borg said.
With what energy that remained in her form, Phoebe refused to release the Key. The Key could be surrendered only to a new owner willingly. She would not grant a Borg or any other creature such a privilege. If she could just hold on a bit longer, the toxin would wear off and she could continue—
The Borg again fired the toxin. “Surrender the Key,” she said, as calmly as before, and took several steps toward Phoebe.
Looking around, Phoebe saw none of her warriors willing to draw close enough to her to risk being exposed to the toxin. Cowards. Except…
A shimmer flickered behind the warp core. Hope flared within her. Another had entered the room…one of her Exiles! The conduit was not lost to them. She sought to know her rescuer, but discovered the toxin had scrambled her awareness to the point of confusion. Beyond sensing his Nacene nature, she knew nothing for certain.
Release the Key to me, the new one said. And I will keep it from the Borg. I can open the conduit.
She wanted this honor for herself. She had earned the right to be the liberator of the Exiles. And yet…
The Borg fired her weapon again.
Phoebe dropped the Key onto the deck. She couldn’t see her rescuer, but she felt the moment he retrieved the Key.
“Now it will end,” her rescuer said aloud. “The Keeper of the Light has come.”
The voice was quiet, yet spoke with such calm, confident authority that all fear drained from Chakotay. Though Chakotay couldn’t see the speaker, his words pierced through to the center of his being.
Now it will end, he had said.
Looking around the bridge at his crew, Chakotay noted the dissolving tension. Knowles’s arms dangled at her sides, her face composed. An aura of serenity surrounded Tuvok; he had a faraway look in his eyes. The placid expression on Rollins’s face suited a lazy afternoon better than a starship battle. Chakotay followed their gazes. The sight of hundreds—if not thousands—becalmed Nacene hovering in front of Voyager—had mesmerized them. Their attackers too had stilled at the spoken command.
String Theory, Book 3: Evolution Page 33