Star Trek Voyager: Unworthy

by Kirsten Beyer

  “So she had limited free will?” the Doctor said with a hint of accusation.

  “We didn’t want you to know,” Reg admitted.

  “Why not? If she was meant to be my perfect mate, why not include me in her design?”

  “You would have rejected her,” Reg replied flatly.

  “You don’t know that!”

  Barclay returned the Doctor’s loaded stare with one of his own.

  “All right,” the Doctor allowed. “I probably would have.”

  “I’m sorry this didn’t work out the way we planned. Like I said, we shouldn’t have had to cross this bridge for years. If Meegan hadn’t been attacked …”

  The Doctor’s gaze shifted past Reg as he suddenly began to process the ramifications of Barclay and Zimmerman’s foolhardy choice.

  “The Indign consciousness that possessed her … it never left, did it?”

  “No,” Reg confirmed.

  “So when she kissed me, that wasn’t really her?”

  “No.”

  “Why do you think she did it?”

  “I have no idea,” Reg admitted. “My guess is, she was looking to cover her tracks, diverting our attention from her true plans. Or maybe she just found you irresistible.”

  “Sex as misdirection,” the Doctor said, nodding sagely. “A tried and true tactic, I’m afraid.”

  “Yes,” Reg agreed. “And now, that consciousness is in possession of a matrix it can alter at will with a mobile holographic emitter at its heart.”

  “She will live forever, in any form she chooses to take,” the Doctor realized.

  “And with a Starfleet shuttle at her disposal.”

  The Doctor paused, as the destructive potential that had unwittingly been unleashed upon the galaxy took vivid and terrifying form in his processors.

  “What have we done?” the Doctor all but whispered.

  “No,” Reg corrected him sadly. “What have I done.”

  Barclay had already grasped the seriousness of the situation but seeing the Doctor’s response as prelude to the reception he would undoubtedly get from the senior fleet staff, his worry intensified.

  Lieutenant Barclay, who had thoroughly briefed Captains Eden, Itak, and Glenn about Meegan’s true nature, sat stony and silent, like a condemned man waiting to learn whether his punishment was life in prison or swift, merciful death.

  Eden would leave it to Glenn to mete out disciplinary measures should she deem them appropriate, but silently added Barclay’s actions to the growing list of matters requiring review.

  “Thank you for your report, Lieutenant,” Eden said. “We will take your recommendations regarding Meegan under advisement.”

  Barclay nodded and Eden turned her attention to Seven.

  Seven sat at Eden’s right. She appeared wan and her voice was weary, yet she seemed anxious to recount what she had learned in the days since the battle with the Indign armada. Chakotay, Cambridge, Sharak, Patel, and Paris appeared as interested as Eden was to hear what Seven had to say.

  “I first attempted to speak with the Indign again four days ago. My initial communication with them was difficult and subsequent efforts, more so.”

  “How?” Doctor Sharak inquired respectfully.

  “The Indign retain their individuality, even in the cooperative state. The harmony that exists between these individual members of a cooperative is facilitated by the Neela and Imalak. A cooperative functions as one, but each cooperative maintains a singular “frequency” for communication that is distinct. Initially, I was able to address hundreds of cooperatives at one time.”

  “They possess no organizational hierarchy?” Patel asked.

  “No,” Seven replied. “Each cooperative assumes a distinct task, but there is no centralized authority that directs their efforts. Just as the members of a cooperative function as one, groups of cooperatives interact with little difficulty and are free to contribute to their society in whatever way they desire. Great emphasis is placed on maintaining the social order. Differences of opinion are quickly resolved, not by an outside party, but by their inherent desire to avoid conflict.

  “Our appearance in their system was met with silence until a single cooperative expressed curiosity in studying us further in an effort to assess any threat we might pose. We were understood to be sufficiently advanced to warrant attempted destruction by the most efficient means they possessed.”

  “Meegan?” Eden asked.

  Seven nodded. “Yes, Captain. However, given the difficulty of trying to speak with the Indign, most of what I have learned about their society and history, I was able to glean while in conversation with the Old One we first discovered in the catacombs beneath the ancient Neyser colony.”

  “How did she survive?” Cambridge interjected.

  “The Greech were able to repair the damage. She has been moved to another colony on the fourth world and the site of the ancient city has been eradicated.

  “I attempted to explain our actions to the Indign, but found the effort more disruptive than productive. When I learned that the Old One had survived, I was brought to her, and found her anxious to continue our communication.

  “The Neyser have the longest life span of any Indign species. Consequently, it falls to them to retain both the cultural history of the Indign, and to transmit their knowledge through to successive generations.

  “The Old One has lived for more than six hundred of our years, and is the oldest living Neyser. As such, she is accorded a certain amount of honor among all Indign, and she was tasked with the duty of protecting The Eight.”

  “And Meegan was one of these Eight?” Barclay asked for clarification.

  “Yes. Though Meegan’s description of the history of the Indign was clearly lacking in a number of important details, it was not completely fabricated. The Imalak, Irsk, and Neela were all indigenous to this system. The Greech came to the third planet longer ago than the Neyser can remember, but it is unlikely that they originated in this system.

  “The Neyser originated in a system tens of thousands of light-years deeper into the Delta quadrant. Apparently, roughly five thousand years ago, they began to experiment with genetic alterations that would allow them to expand their already considerable life span.”

  “They wanted to live forever?” Cambridge asked.

  “Apparently. The result was a group of Neyser now known as The Eight. They were effectively immortal. In time, through violent means, they ascended to the leadership among the Neyser and immediately set about expanding their territories in the most brutal ways possible. Eventually, disagreements drove The Eight to make war upon one another. This fragmentation allowed the remaining Neyser to rise up and defeat them. Because The Eight could not be killed, their engrammatic essences were separated from their bodies and contained in the canisters we were accused of stealing. A group of Neyser volunteered to take the canisters to a distant world and bury them. They made it as far as the Indign system before they crashed on the third planet.”

  “Once again proving that no good deed goes unpunished,” Cambridge remarked.

  “Counselor,” Eden chided him.

  “Did this Old One describe the nature of these engrammatic essences in detailed terms?” Barclay asked hopefully.

  Seven said, “All I can confirm is that organic material was enhanced through genetic programming and the resulting mutation was The Eight.”

  “What details about the development of the Indign did Meegan refrain from sharing?” Eden asked, bringing them back on track.

  “After the Neyser crashed, there was bloody and brutal conflict between the Greech and Neyser because they lacked the ability to communicate with one another. Peace was finally achieved once the Neyser realized that the Neela and Imalak could be modified to serve their needs. Once communication was established, their conflict diminished.”

  “So Meegan was only interested in painting a pretty picture of the Indign’s past?” Eden noted.

  “She told u
s what we wanted to hear,” Cambridge added. “And what was most likely to limit our continued interaction with the Indign.”

  “Where do the Borg fit in?” Patel asked.

  “The Neyser had never seen the Borg until they reached this system; however, the first steps toward their cooperative existence had already been taken by then. Initially, it was the Neela and Imalak who saw the Borg’s structure as an example of perfect cooperation. They transmitted to the other Indign species the necessity of pleasing the Borg in hopes that they might work together for their mutual benefit. The Borg had no interest in the Indign. Eventually, the offerings began in hope that this might change the Borg’s mind.”

  “Unbelievable,” Cambridge said, shaking his head.

  “While I could not make the Indign understand the true nature of the Borg, I did explain as much as I could to the Old One. She has assured me that she will pass the information along to the Indign and will do all she can to bring an end to the offerings.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Eden said sincerely.

  “The Old One was surprised to learn that the Borg were conquered by the Caeliar, and asked if there was any way to contact them. I assured her that there is not, and she seemed to accept that for now. I further assured her that we will continue to pursue Meegan and the rest of The Eight. I advised her that we accept responsibility for her actions, which included the destruction of the Old One’s colony with our weapons, and that should we find them, we will see that they are returned to Neyser custody.”

  “If Lieutenant Barclay is right, that’s going to be a pretty tall order,” Paris observed.

  “But still, a task worth completing,” Eden added.

  “The Old One did ask if there was anything the Indign could offer us to compensate us for any losses we sustained. I suggested that a small supply of benamite would be greatly appreciated. The benamite extruded as a waste product by the Irsk-Dulaph is of no intrinsic value to the Indign, and in its present form is not compatible with our systems. However, I believe that the recrystallization technology developed by Commander Torres might be adapted to convert it to crystalline form. They have provided me with transport coordinates and I would suggest we retrieve it as soon as possible.”

  Eden said, “I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say, thank you, Seven. I know this mission was difficult for you and you’ve done more toward normalizing our relations with the Indign throughout the last few days than I would have thought possible. Job very well done.”

  “You’re welcome, Captain.”

  As she rose to return to her quarters for a period of required rest—ordered by the Doctor—Seven was halted by a soft, “A moment, Seven.”

  She turned to see Captain Eden crossing to speak with her. Counselor Cambridge moved quietly to the door to wait for her.

  “I noticed that you are no longer wearing your neural inhibitor,” Eden said.

  “I no longer require it.”

  The captain perched herself on the edge of the conference table as she said, “Then I take it the voice no longer troubles you?”

  Seven had not yet had enough time to confirm her suspicion that the voice would actually never trouble her again, but she had not used her inhibitor for days.

  “Before I was able to assume the control of my catoms required to facilitate communication with the Indign, I was forced to confront the voice.”

  Eden’s dark brow furrowed. “Do you mind telling me exactly how you managed that?”

  Seven considered her words carefully before answering. “The Doctor, Chakotay, and the counselor have been working to assist me in controlling the voice. One of the tactics I employed was visualization. I found that in a relaxed, almost meditative state, I was able to interact with the voice and to diminish its power over me.”

  “So you’ve essentially learned to ignore it?” Eden asked.

  “Not exactly,” Seven replied. “At one point while I was reaching out to the Indign, a manifestation of the voice appeared in my mind: a little girl I have seen before.”

  Eden nodded solemnly for her to continue.

  “I instructed the girl to allow me to complete my task and, as always, she attempted to persuade me that my actions were unnecessary. Rather than argue the point, I simply realized that she represented only one part of my nature. In accepting this, I accepted her and when I did so, I remembered something about my transformation that I had forgotten until now.”

  “What was that?”

  Seven felt her cheeks begin to burn, though she felt no shame in revisiting the memory now, only sadness and regret. “When the Caeliar transformed the Borg, I was invited to join the gestalt, but the final choice was mine.”

  Eden’s posture stiffened at this rather alarming disclosure.

  Seven went on. “The Caeliar represented the fulfillment of the Borg’s deepest needs and the vast majority of drones would have entered the gestalt quite willingly.”

  Eden paused as she took this in. “You were given a choice to join the Caeliar?” she asked.

  “I was.”

  “And you turned them down?” Eden said, clearly surprised.

  “I did.”

  “May I ask why?”

  Seven shook her head. “I cannot yet provide you with a definitive answer, as I myself do not completely understand. I do know, however, that the voice was meant to comfort me. Having accepted that, I no longer feel the same anxiety and confusion I once did. The voice has vanished because it became irrelevant.”

  “Do you believe you have learned all there is to know about your catoms?” Eden inquired.

  “No,” Seven replied. “The Doctor believes any potential use will be extremely limited because they were designed to sustain my physical systems once supplemented by nanoprobes. He has also discovered that they are powered by my own biological processes, which also limits their abilities. Using them toward any other end—communicating with the Indign, for example—is very draining. I will continue to test their limits under controlled conditions, but do not believe they will augment my current capabilities in any significant way.”

  “I’d say they already have, Seven,” Eden said with a faint smile. “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit.” The captain stood and placed a compassionate hand on Seven’s shoulder. “You have done a remarkable job and you have my gratitude for that.”

  Seven hadn’t given much thought to her future with the fleet, but the captain’s words felt like a farewell. “Is it your intention, then, to return me to the Alpha quadrant?”

  Eden was clearly shocked at the suggestion.

  “You want to go home already?”

  “Now that I understand the nature of the voice, I find I must reassess the likelihood that we will find evidence of the Caeliar in the Delta quadrant. I will, most certainly, not be able to provide you with any particular expertise in searching for them, and I am inclined to take them at their word.”

  “You think they’re really gone?”

  Seven nodded.

  “And you believe that’s the only reason I wanted you to join the fleet?”

  Seven could not find an immediate reply.

  “Wow,” Eden said, disbelief plain on her face, “for an individual who has single-handedly saved herself, her friends, her ship, and from time to time, the galaxy, you measure your ability to offer meaningful contributions too cheaply. You are an asset of incalculable value, Seven. I will always welcome your services and I very much hope you will be willing to stay and continue to provide them.”

  Seven felt her cheeks flush again, this time with happiness.

  “That would be acceptable.”

  Eden smiled brightly.

  “Good.”

  Seven turned to see Counselor Cambridge staring at them both.

  “This was meant to be a private conversation, Counselor,” Eden said semi-seriously.

  “Then you should have held it somewhere else,” he tossed back. Crossing to Seven he extended his hand. “Glad
you’ve decided to stay, Seven.”

  “Thank you, Counselor,” Seven replied. “Your assistance has been most instructive.”

  “You say that like our work has come to an end,” he said quizzically.

  “Hasn’t it?” Seven asked.

  “On the contrary, our work has barely begun. I’ll see you in my office, eight hundred.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The voice may be gone, but the conditions that allowed it to create such distress within you have hardly been addressed, let alone resolved. And I’m positively dying to hear more about that little girl.”

  “You intend to continue our sessions to satisfy your own curiosity?” Seven asked, displeased at the thought.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. No one is that interesting,” he insisted. “I intend to continue our sessions until I am satisfied that you have fully integrated these experiences into a more complete sense of self.”

  “I believe I have already made significant progress in that regard,” Seven said a little defiantly.

  “Did I miss the part in your service record where you achieved advanced degrees in psychology?” When Seven didn’t immediately answer he continued, “As I told you several weeks ago, I can only be as helpful to you as you are willing to allow. I still do not believe that you have really made peace with the circumstances that led to your assimilation, or your subsequent transition from Borg to human. At the very least, you have to grant me this much. You were offered perfection. You turned it down and even now, you can’t tell me why.”

  “I had my reasons,” Seven stated.

  “I don’t doubt it,” Cambridge concurred. “I think we should go looking for them together.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Yucky, yuck, yuck,” Miral said, shoving the last of her string beans to the edge of her plate.

  “Miral, you used to love string beans,” B’Elanna said, finishing her last bite with a flourish to encourage the little girl. “Mmmm,” she continued, overdoing her enjoyment a little just for effect. “If you want to grow up big and strong like your mommy and daddy, you have to eat your vegetables.”