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n-De let out a low groan as his eyes opened. His vision was slow to come back into focus and, even when it did, he realized he was in a rather dark place. The surface beneath his back was hard and flat, like a table, but he felt like he wasn't lying down; not entirely. He tried to move, but found his arms and legs firmly restrained and he was only rewarded with the cold touch of metal on one of his wrists as his uniform moved. It was then that he realized he wasn't horizontal or vertical, but instead positioned at an angle.
That's right. I was shot by Margulis...Oren-De remained quiet as he allowed his mind to recompile the events that had led him to this point. Margulis had betrayed him, which meant that he and the rest of the
Pandora's crew were in danger. Now that he was more oriented, Oren-De looked around again. The light around him was dim, but it was enough to make out a few silhouettes moving along the sides of the room. They would move toward one of the black columns that lined the walls, which seemed to be made from rock, attend to it in a way that Oren-De couldn't immediately ascertain, and then move to the next. When the nearest figure moved, Oren-De peered more closely at the column it had been in front of. It was a black irregularly shaped thing, with wires and cables snaking all over it. It was hollow though, and within the alcove Oren-De saw a figure illuminated by an eerie green light. He immediately tensed when he saw that the figure was a Borg drone.
"What are the Borg doing here!?" he wondered aloud, despite himself. His voice caught the attention of the sillhouettes in the room, one of which turned and walked away. A minute later, the sound of a door opening and closing echoed through the room. The noise clued Oren-De in to the cavernous size of the chamber in which he was being held.
"Captain? Captain, are you awake?" came a hushed voice next to him. Oren-De turned his head and saw someone on the table to his right, though it took him a moment in the darkness to recognize her as Maggie.
"Yes. Ms. Matoya, what's your condition?"
"I'm fine. That bitch Vulcan doctor gave me a hell of a shoulder ache, but other than that I'm good. How about you?"
"Margulis shot me with a phaser on the transporter pad," Oren-De said bitterly, though it was directed more at his own perceived carelessness than the actions of the traitorous administrator. "I don't suppose you know our location?"
Maggie shook her head. "No. I woke up... I don't know, maybe thirty minutes ago. It's hard to tell here. All I've been able to determine is that we're in a room full of Borg recharge alcoves that are being constantly maintenanced by these people. Maybe Zarath III colonists, but that's just a guess."
"If you're right though, we need to find some way to warn the
Pandora."
"Sir, I think they already know. Look," she said as she motioned with her head to her other side. Oren-De strained his eyes in the darkness and saw a number of other tables in a row, with people on them he couldn't discern. "I woke up while they were bringing them in, and I think I saw Redwing."
"The away team..." muttered Oren-De.
At that moment, Oren-De and Maggie heard the doors in the distance open again. The silhouettes immediately ceased their actions and turned toward the rear of the room, though beyond that they didn't move a muscle. Footsteps echoed louder as they came closer and, from the cadence and pattern, Oren-De guessed that there were only two. From the actions of the silhouettes, Oren-De didn't have to make too much of a logical jump to guess at whose they were.
"I see your awake, Commander," said Margulis as he strode into view. His tone and expression were far from what they had seemed in the colony's administrative building. There was the arrogant smugness of someone who just pulled off what only he considered to be the greatest strategem ever created, as well as an unsettling look in his eyes. Maggie wondered if that was just the odd green light of the room's columns reflecting off his face. Oren-De said nothing and only looked at Margulis, then Shion when she came up next to the man. Maggie immediately started glaring icicles at the Vulcan.
"Really? No questions? You're not even curious as to why you're in a room of... well, as you call them, Borg?"
Oren-De raised an eyebrow. Not only did the man appear to want to give information freely, but the question was odd. What else would you call a Borg drone, after all? He was about to bite and ask when Maggie did it for him, though in her own uniquely Maggie way.
"And what the hell do you call them, you stupid jackass?" she asked, her voice raised. "Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say you and your colonists have gotten pretty buddy-buddy with these... things..." she said, her own term for the Borg practically dripping with hatred.
With a surprisingly fast motion, Shion backhanded Maggie across her face. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the room. Margulis turned to her and gave her a mock chiding. "Now Shion, don't damage her too much. After all, she is one of our offerings to the Nephilim."
Oren-De only stared at Margulis as it suddenly all fell into place. "You two are Gnostics... and you're not the only ones on this colony. You have enough here that you attacked my away teams," he said looking at the row of tables he and Maggie were in, as well as straining to see who knew how many rows behind him. He looked back at Margulis, but refrained from speaking any more as his mind raced through the various possible scenarios and how each factor fit in.
"Quite right," responded Margulis. "That ore is rather useful for hiding an ambush," he said with ever-increasing self-satisfaction. Oren-De maintained a cool facade, masking his relief that their captor was a talker that seemed very impressed with himself.
"Which I imagine this cave is practically covered in."
"Enough that the Pandora won't find one trace of you," he said with a grin. Shion turned to Margulis with an angry glare, which even Oren-De found to be unsettling on the face of a Vulcan.
"Administrator! Do you not think you have said enough!?"
Margulis actually seemed to blanch for a moment, then attempted to recover. He looked back at Oren-De and nodded in approval. "You are good, Commander. No wonder she is so interested in your abilities. You and your crew will make excellent offerings."
Maggie bristled and looked like she wanted nothing to rip herself from the table and strangle Margulis. "Offerings!? What the hell do you think the Borg are, your saviors from the Delta Quadrant!? They're going to assimilate you once you've outlived your usefulness!"
"Well, yes, that would be the agreement," said Margulis simply. The response left Maggie so dumbstruck that Margulis couldn't help but continue. "Is assimilation really so bad, Ms. Matoya? After all, how would you know? Have you ever been assimilated? Have you ever known the calm and tranquility of a chorus of minds thinking in harmony, and the joy of being free of the chaos that even now threatens us all? No, of course not. I, however, have."
Margulis lifted the loose-fitting tunic he worse, revealing several black metal objects protruding from his stomach. They seemed small, as if his skin and belly fat had started to swallow them. After giving Oren-De and Maggie a good look at them, he pulled the shirt back down. Maggie looked at Margulis in complete shock, while Oren-De calmly turned to look at Shion.
"And you? Were you also once a member of the Collective?"
Shion said nothing, as if deliberating if even that was safe to reveal. She decided on giving Oren-De nothing more than a sneer before turning to Margulis. "We should prepare. She will be here shortly, especially given recent developments."
"What recent developments?" asked Maggie.
The two simply looked at her then walked away in silence, their footsteps once again echoing. After the door closed, Maggie looked at Oren-De. "What recent developments?"
Oren-De only frowned. "I don't know. However, given the tense in which he spoke of the Pandora, I assume the ship is at least still functioning. However, I can only guess as to her condition." He thought in silence for a moment more, then looked back at Maggie.
"Ms. Matoya, this 'she' they kept referring to; do you believe they mean a--"
"Yes," interrupted Maggie, her form slacking as she lay back on the table in quiet surrender. "They are probably referring to a Borg Queen."