Fool me once, shame on you...
Who: Kathryn Janeway, Gul Dukat, Elim Garak
Where: Inside Dukat's Room, Hallways and Lift
When: Late Afternoon, following the events of this post
What: In trying to fix the mess the hotel has caused, Janeway bites off more than she can chew again, Dukat evens the score, and Garak settles some accounts.
Janeway grimaced in the phaser induced daze. Her mind just beyond the edge of consciousness, in that dangerous lucid state where one had no control over what they saw or felt. Her fingers curled into her palms and her body tightened with all the tension of a wound up spring.
In her subconsciousness...the ghosts began to chatter...
It was humid, almost unbearably so. Janeway opened her eyes to find herself in the greenish hazed colored chamber, the center of the hive...the birthing room of a queen. She stood alone in the room, where the gel filled bed had been at the time she could consciously remember it.
"I warned you." A male voice announced. Janeway's head snapped forward and locked eyes with the cold and furious gaze of Captain Picard. "If there was anyone in the entire galaxy who hated the Borg as much as I did...it was you. You didn't believe me when I said the Queen had returned." His jaw tightened in fury. "A dozen men and women died trying to prove it to you!"
Something moved in the corner of her eye and she found Seven of Nine standing to her right, pale skin and blond hair, dressed in her usual jumpsuit. Her Borg implant stood out in stark contrast to her complexion.
"I recommended we quarantined the cube for ten years." She said, voice and expression remote. "You did not heed my warning."
Janeway stared at her. "You said it was dead."
Seven quirked a golden brow in an almost Vulcan expression. "I said they would adapt." She replied. "And they did."
"You did not listen my warning." A new voice spoke. Janeway spun in the other direction and found Lady Q standing on her left. She looked smug and satisfied, an unspoken "I told you So" written all over her face. "Tell me, Kathryn Janeway...when you lost your soul...did you notice?"
The fourth presence didn't need to speak to make itself known. Janeway felt it as if it was simply an extension of herself, removed to stand behind her and three feet away like everyone else.
She turned and met eyes with herself.
Kathryn Janeway was bald, red locks simply expunged from her scalp where black tubes ran from the top of her head and down her neck. An ashen face that glistened not with sweat but a film of gel, and everything from the mid chest down had been replaced in a black mechanical shell. Blue eyes stared back at her with a light that did not belong to Janeway...something truly alien and cold.
"Welcome to my parlor..." The Queen smirked with Janeway's lips and voice. "Said the spider to the fly."
Between the space of a blink, she went from standing to lying on her back in a pool of sticky gel, hands and feet pulled away from her body and secured. She stared up at the ceiling of the chamber, unable to move as drones moved about. Two of them leaned over her with wickedly sharp implements. It took her a moment to realize they were Seven and Picard, assimilated into Seven of Nine and Locutus.
"Beg..." Lady Q said, leaning over her from above her head. "Beg and maybe, just maybe...I'll help."
She started to open her lips and speak when the Queen swooped in and all but climbed on top of her to be face to face.
"Welcome home, Janeway..." She whispered and kissed her brow.
Then the cacophany of voices began. Thousands, upon millions...upon billions of voices spoke at once...
We are the Borg.
Janeway's eyes snapped open, a strangled gasp drawing through her lips. Her whole body moved to turn in on itself, but her arms and feet were held at bay. In her moment of bleary panic she didn't know what to think, only that she could not escape the sensation of still lying on the assimilation table.
She craned her neck to look and found her left hand bound about the wrist in cloth, secured to a bed post. Her widen eyes tracked across the room and found, trying to make out shapes in the dim lighting. It was a room, bed room. She was lying on a bed, tied down.
It was a slow beat before her befuddled mind caught up to the present.
Janeway swallowed her panic, most of it having nothing to do with her current situation...and took a deep calming breath. She sighed and said very dismally to the room, "I had enough respect for your dignity to tie you up in a chair." And hoped to hell someone heard her.
Where: Inside Dukat's Room, Hallways and Lift
When: Late Afternoon, following the events of this post
What: In trying to fix the mess the hotel has caused, Janeway bites off more than she can chew again, Dukat evens the score, and Garak settles some accounts.
Janeway grimaced in the phaser induced daze. Her mind just beyond the edge of consciousness, in that dangerous lucid state where one had no control over what they saw or felt. Her fingers curled into her palms and her body tightened with all the tension of a wound up spring.
In her subconsciousness...the ghosts began to chatter...
It was humid, almost unbearably so. Janeway opened her eyes to find herself in the greenish hazed colored chamber, the center of the hive...the birthing room of a queen. She stood alone in the room, where the gel filled bed had been at the time she could consciously remember it.
"I warned you." A male voice announced. Janeway's head snapped forward and locked eyes with the cold and furious gaze of Captain Picard. "If there was anyone in the entire galaxy who hated the Borg as much as I did...it was you. You didn't believe me when I said the Queen had returned." His jaw tightened in fury. "A dozen men and women died trying to prove it to you!"
Something moved in the corner of her eye and she found Seven of Nine standing to her right, pale skin and blond hair, dressed in her usual jumpsuit. Her Borg implant stood out in stark contrast to her complexion.
"I recommended we quarantined the cube for ten years." She said, voice and expression remote. "You did not heed my warning."
Janeway stared at her. "You said it was dead."
Seven quirked a golden brow in an almost Vulcan expression. "I said they would adapt." She replied. "And they did."
"You did not listen my warning." A new voice spoke. Janeway spun in the other direction and found Lady Q standing on her left. She looked smug and satisfied, an unspoken "I told you So" written all over her face. "Tell me, Kathryn Janeway...when you lost your soul...did you notice?"
The fourth presence didn't need to speak to make itself known. Janeway felt it as if it was simply an extension of herself, removed to stand behind her and three feet away like everyone else.
She turned and met eyes with herself.
Kathryn Janeway was bald, red locks simply expunged from her scalp where black tubes ran from the top of her head and down her neck. An ashen face that glistened not with sweat but a film of gel, and everything from the mid chest down had been replaced in a black mechanical shell. Blue eyes stared back at her with a light that did not belong to Janeway...something truly alien and cold.
"Welcome to my parlor..." The Queen smirked with Janeway's lips and voice. "Said the spider to the fly."
Between the space of a blink, she went from standing to lying on her back in a pool of sticky gel, hands and feet pulled away from her body and secured. She stared up at the ceiling of the chamber, unable to move as drones moved about. Two of them leaned over her with wickedly sharp implements. It took her a moment to realize they were Seven and Picard, assimilated into Seven of Nine and Locutus.
"Beg..." Lady Q said, leaning over her from above her head. "Beg and maybe, just maybe...I'll help."
She started to open her lips and speak when the Queen swooped in and all but climbed on top of her to be face to face.
"Welcome home, Janeway..." She whispered and kissed her brow.
Then the cacophany of voices began. Thousands, upon millions...upon billions of voices spoke at once...
We are the Borg.
Janeway's eyes snapped open, a strangled gasp drawing through her lips. Her whole body moved to turn in on itself, but her arms and feet were held at bay. In her moment of bleary panic she didn't know what to think, only that she could not escape the sensation of still lying on the assimilation table.
She craned her neck to look and found her left hand bound about the wrist in cloth, secured to a bed post. Her widen eyes tracked across the room and found, trying to make out shapes in the dim lighting. It was a room, bed room. She was lying on a bed, tied down.
It was a slow beat before her befuddled mind caught up to the present.
Janeway swallowed her panic, most of it having nothing to do with her current situation...and took a deep calming breath. She sighed and said very dismally to the room, "I had enough respect for your dignity to tie you up in a chair." And hoped to hell someone heard her.