Shadows of the Night, Part VII

Captain Riker, commander of the Enterprise, one of the Federation's foremost experts on the Borg, sat in his ready room with more questions than answers. With the escalating situation he had now become the Federation's first line of defense in the case of an all-out invasion of the Alpha Quadrant. It was a responsibility he did not take lightly. Captain Riker had a far more laid back approach than many others in Starfleet, but the accomplishments of this crew had shown him that they can be counted on to provide their own initiative and self-control. He gave them his trust, and they refused to disappoint him because of that. It's for this reason that he felt uncomfortable with what he was about to do.

The door chimed and Riker called for her to enter. Perfectly punctual, as usual, was Lt. Comm. Seven of Nine, Chief Science Officer and one of his senior officers. Her demeanor, as always, was calm and straightforward. He hoped she'd still feel that way by the time she left. "You wished to see me captain," Seven said.

Riker set the PADD down on the desk. "Yes, commander, sit down." Over time he'd made her realize that it wasn't an offer, it was an order. For a person who wore heels, Seven spent an unnatural amount of time standing rather than sitting. He examined the PADD briefly and then gave her his full attention. "A lot of things are concerning me lately, and they all have one thing in common."

"The Borg," Seven replied.

"You got it," Riker said, leaning back a little in his chair. "First things first. Does the word 'Anansi' mean anything to you?" Seven thought for a moment, but had to admit she didn't. "We ran it through our computers, but the only thing relevant was that it's the Ashanti word for 'spider'. Does that mean anything to you?"

"No," Seven admitted. "I fail to see what this has to do with the Borg?"

"It's the thing on the Borg's mind lately," Riker said. "At least according to Mr. Skywalker, although I've learned to trust his judgment." Seven's eyes were focused on his desk. "Seven?" he asked, causing her to start slightly. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No," she replied firmly. "No, captain, it was unrelated."

"I need your head in the game, Seven," Riker said firmly.

"My apologies. It was... I had not heard that name in some time... I was briefly drawn to the memories of those eventful days. I will remain focused."

"Good." Mentally, Riker cut her some slack. Lord knows being tortured beyond human limits and having to be there when Data died can have an effect even on a Borg, and this experience wasn't going to be much better. "There's a few things that concern me." He indicated the display on his desk. "I've been going over all the information on the Borg, and a fairly significant portion of it involves you and/or Voyager. I'd appreciate if you could answer some things that are puzzling me."

"I will comply," she replied.

"Good. First things first, let's talk about your nanoprobes."

Seven looked at him curiously. "What about them?"

"Well for one, how come they're still in your body?" Riker asked. "You're not a Borg any more, you're human."

"My nanoprobes are dormant," Seven said.

"Inside you, yes," Riker admitted. "But once they leave you they become active again. Why is that?"

Seven hesitated. "I'm no longer Borg."

"Exactly the point. Your body is swimming with nanoprobes but you're clearly not being assimilated. What's the reason for this?"

Seven squirmed a little, but whether it was the thought of Borg nanoprobes in her bloodstream or the uncertainty of her situation Riker wasn't sure. "My humanity has reasserted itself."

Riker nodded. Apparently she had no more of an answer than he did. "I read the report on the events recounted in the memory engrams from Coruscant. The report said that you used your nanoprobes to create brain alterations so that they would form a small hive mind."

Now Seven seemed very uncomfortable. "I realize that was wrong," she said.

Riker shook his head. "I'm not holding you accountable for what you did when you were still a drone. But what I am curious about is how you were able to do that." Seven seemed confused. "I thought nanoprobes assimilate."

"Yes," Seven said. "But they can be programmed to perform other tasks."

"So you could reprogram your nanoprobes if you wished?"

"No," Seven said. "Special programs are in place to make nanoprobe modifications, but such changes are not performed on a... conscious, for lack of a better term, level. They are either passed down from the Collective consciousness, or are instigated by emergency protocols."

"So the nanoprobes were modified to perform this emergency procedure?"

"No, the procedure was not an established Borg protocol," Seven said.

Riker felt like he was going in circles. "Then how did you do it?"

Seven started to reply but came up short. "I do not know," she admitted. "Apparently my recollection of those events is incomplete."

"Could you speculate?"

"I have no idea," Seven said. "But clearly in my desperation I was able to determine a solution."

"Alright. I'd like to discuss One with you." Seven looked somewhat panged at the mention. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Seven replied quickly. "What do you wish to know?"

"Well, for starters, would you explain One's origin to me in your own words. You were, after all, involved with him the most."

Seven nodded and thought for a moment. "Voyager was investigating a protonebula when our shuttle was destroyed. When we were transported back our patterns temporarily intermingled and some of my nanoprobes were transferred to the Doctor's mobile emitter. They began assimilating its technology."

Riker nodded. Again, the nanoprobes that assimilate everything in sight, but yet don't assimilate her. That was one thing that had been baffling him for a while, and apparently there wouldn't be any answer soon.

"It took a genetic sampling from a crewman and used it to grow a new Borg, One."

Riker called up a picture on his viewer. "This is One, and this is the crewman?" he asked, pointing to the images. Seven confirmed this. "Doesn't this strike you as being a little odd?"

"Explain," Seven asked curiously.

"Well, if the genetic sample came solely from the crewman, shouldn't he be a clone?"

"He is a Borg," Seven said simply.

"Yes," Riker said, "but he has none of the features of the crewman. Oh there are some similarities, of course, but there are strong genetic differences."

Seven looked a little uncomfortable. "What are you suggesting?"

"Well," Riker said, tapping the panel and causing One's picture to fill the screen, "I'm thinking that the nanoprobes used two genetic samples and crossed them. Would there be any reason for that?"

"Yes," Seven said, but her voice sounded different, as if she didn't want to say what she was saying but couldn't stop it. "Clones have a difficulty in continual reproduction and make a species far too vulnerable to disease and other attacks. That is the reason for sexual reproduction. The Collective resists cloning except in situations where rapid numerical growth proves necessary."

"So," Riker said, looking at the screen thoughtfully, "if there are two genetic patterns, as it seems there are, where'd the other sequence come from?"

Seven spoke with the same tone as before. "Torres, Paris, or myself were all being transported. Any of us could've provided the other sample in the same way the nanoprobes were conveyed."

Riker nodded. "True enough. Tell me, why was One such a unique drone?"

"One was not a drone," Seven said, a trace of emotion in her voice. "He was an individual."

Riker was slightly taken aback. "You're right; my mistake. What made One unique among Borg?"

Seven thought. "He possessed advanced equipment that no Borg possessed. Personal forcefield, internal transporter, and a powerful alloyed armor, among others."

"I see," Riker said. "And how exactly did this happen?"

"It gained the capability because of the Doctor's mobile emitter. It is 29th century technology, and thus One was far more advanced."

"Ah," Riker said in reply. He had read that answer in the file, and had been prepared for it. "Tell me, if I gave this tricorder to a 20th century scientist, would he be able to replicate it?"

"Possibly," Seven said. "If they had an advanced understanding he might be able to accomplish it."

"Would he be capable of inventing a warp drive?"

"No," Seven said, clearly confused by the question. "The technologies are not related."

Riker nodded. "Yes, you're right of course." He paused. "So, why would One have a personal transporter if he assimilated a holo emitter?"

Seven floundered for a second. "A transporter is contemporary technology..."

"Yes it is," Riker replied, "And it has nothing in common with a holo emitter at all. A force field, in a limited sense does, but that's contemporary technology too, isn't it?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that your answer doesn't make sense. Aside of the armor, which IS part of the mobile emitter, none of the technology is anything we don't already have. But why would One have it?"

"One was a unique individual," Seven replied. "His origin showed that much."

"Fine," Riker said, turning the screen back.

"I do not understand the nature of these questions," Seven remarked.

Riker adjusted his position in his chair. "The Borg are acting in a way far different then they ever had before. We also have a group of lunatics who happened to possess Borg technology. Essentially, what I'm trying to do is explore every deviation in what we normally know of the Borg to try and figure out what's going on in the galaxy, before we all wind up in an alcove somewhere."

Seven swallowed. "I assure you, captain, that I find the thought of that fate as equally unpleasant as you do. Unfortunately, I have no answers to either the Borg's recent behavioral change or these cultists."

Riker nodded and consulted his PADD, glanced up at Seven, and put it back. "Can I see your right hand please?" Seven placed her hand face down on the desk. "That implant," Riker asked, "how did you get that one?"

Seven hesitated. "It emerged when I began receiving a Borg signal."

"Where did it come from?"

"My nanoprobes generated it, instigated by one of the protocols I referenced earlier. They are programmed to create various implants if a drone has been damaged."

"They just created this device out of nothing?"

"Metallic deposits, energy reserves, and other means are used to construct an implant, depending on its nature and requirements. Sometimes other devices will be cannibalized if the need is great."

"What is the purpose of this implant?" Riker asked.

Seven looked at it and pulled her hand off the table, covering it with her other hand. "It... it is the mounting point for a plasma discharger."

"What's that?"

"A... a weapon. If a drone is separated from the collective it is generated to provide it a means of defense until re-assimilation."

Riker hated doing this. He could tell that this entire discussion was making her very uncomfortable, a surprising fact to say the least. Seven had always been very in control of her emotions, even though she always shared her opinions without consideration of diplomacy. Why all this was causing her to feel uncomfortable was only one more question that he couldn't answer. "Were there any other instances when you created a new implant?"

"No."

"Did you, in fact, create the plasma discharger you described?"

"No."

"Do you know why?"

Seven looked at his face and then glanced away. "Because I could find a Type-III phaser rifle in the equipment locker. Generating the device would be a waste of resources."

"Wait a minute," Riker said, clearly not believing this. "You thought this on a conscious level, and so you didn't develop the device?"

"The protocols respond to the stimuli of my body," Seven said, "It is more than likely that they monitored my vital signs and recognized that a device would be a waste of resources, since I wasn't in danger at the time."

"I see," Riker said. "One last question. How long have the Borg been exploring the galaxy?"

"Approximately fifty thousand years," Seven said.

"And during that time," Riker said, "You've only found 10,000 species?"

"Yes," Seven replied, uncertain of what he was implying.

"The Borg don't seem to expand very rapidly," he said. "Can you explain this?"

"No," Seven had to admit. "I cannot."

"Alright," Riker said, standing up. "I'm sorry if any of this was unpleasant."

Seven's face showed she understood but she said nothing. Still holding her right hand, she stepped out of the Ready Room. Riker came around the desk and noticed something on the floor, and bent down to pick it up. As he was standing up, Borui came in. "How did it go?" she asked as he straightened up.

"No real answers unfortunately," Riker said. "How did she seem?

"Very disturbed," Borui said. "Especially when you were talking about the drones around the campfire." Borui had been monitoring the events from her chair at Riker's request. He didn't like having to spy on one of his most trusted officers, but with so much at stake he couldn't afford to take a single chance, no matter how small.

"Regarding One... was she the 'mother'?" Riker asked.

Borui nodded. "Genetic examination shows it."

"Does she know?"

"I think she's always suspected," Borui said. "But she doesn't want to really know. It's still a very deep wound for her."

"I can imagine," Riker replied, feeling even more like a jerk for having to probe the subject so heavily. "Was everything she said the truth?"

"Yes," Borui said. "Whatever you may call her, Seven's not a liar."

"No, I suppose she's not," Riker said absent-mindedly. "Thank you counselor." He didn't notice her walk out, he just stared at the object he picked up off the floor. He twiddled with it a little as he thought and then placed the small spiked object on his desk. Riker wondered a little if Seven would grow a replacement for the implant that had fallen off her hand.

Seven stood at Science Station 1, but her mind was unable to focus on her work. She looked about the bridge. There was Geordi Laforge, and there was Lt. Travis, both of whom long time officers on the Enterprise. And others, though newer, who had joined the crew and shared in the heritage of this ship. She looked at them all in turn, a kind of grief settling over her. She was a lieutenant commander, a high-ranking officer, one to be looked to as an example. But she wasn't one of them. She turned; the captain's ready room door was two steps away from her post. She stared at it for a while. No good could come from this, but the guilt was threatening to overwhelm her.

"Come," Riker said, and Seven entered. "Something you wish to add?" he asked.

Seven hesitated. "In a matter of speaking. May I sit down?"

Riker raised his eyebrows slightly at her uncharacteristic request. He gestured to a chair and she took it. "Seven, are you all right?"

"I- I am experiencing powerful emotions," Seven explained. "Primarily guilt. You- You said you would not hold me accountable for my actions as a drone."

"That's right," Riker said emphatically. "The Borg did terrible things to people, but the members of the Collective have no control. I certainly won't judge you."

"I-" She was having trouble speaking. "I have held back information from you, captain." She noticed his expression. "Nothing of tactical or strategic benefit," she added. "But in the wake of these new revelations, and with the threat of the Borg again, it is something that has come to haunt me."

Riker looked at her with puzzlement, but he seemed to be trying to be understanding. "What is it?"

Her eyes opened, and she heard the voices. They spoke to her in her head, as they always did. "Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One. You will aid in the assimilation of Species 5618, assimilation chamber four alpha." 7 of 9 stepped out of her alcove and walked the corridors of the Cube without comment, without thought, except those which served the overall purpose of the Collective consciousness. Around her the drones went about their work, either performing maintenance on the vessel, contributing to its regeneration in the wake of the recent damage, or simply devoting their own thoughts to analysis and adaptation.

There were cries and protests as she approached the chamber, but they were irrelevant. They were a feeble attempt to resist assimilation, with no power whatsoever. Of all methods, they were the most futile. She walked up to the restrained subject, and her assimilation tubules were quickly deployed, and the transformation from primitive individual to a part of something far greater and grander began. She observed the assimilation carefully while she spoke, although to say "she" was speaking would be somewhat inaccurate. Her lips moved, but it was not her voice, and they were not her words, any more than these were her actions. She was a tool in service of the greater whole. "Your existence, as it has been, has been terminated. You will carry out our purpose. You will be our voice." She looked into his grimacing face without the slightest hint of pity. "Your designation is Locutus of Borg."

Go To Part VIII
Back to Shadows of the Night