Dark Matters_ Shadow of Heaven (Book 3) - Christie Golden [43]
Verrak pulled out a small device and pressed a button on it. At once the world around them shimmered. When Jekri could see again, she was standing on the darkened bridge of a top-of-the-line warbird. Jekri looked around wildly. She glimpsed someone in a command chair, a conn, active stations, and a viewscreen with Romulus filling every square centimeter.
"Shields up! Activate cloak!" someone was ordering in a deep, booming voice. "Set coordinates for the rendezvous point!"
"Done, sir!"
"Let's get there, then. Warp nine!"
The image of Romulus vanished, to be replaced by the familiar, distinctive streak of stars as they hurtled through space at warp nine. Jekri stumbled to the railing and leaned on it, catching her breath. It would seem she was not fully recovered.
The commander of this vessel rose. Jekri stared in surprise and pleasure. "Commander Idran," she said, her voice warm.
He saluted her smartly. "Chairman, we are honored by your presence aboard the Para'tar. She, her crew, and her commander are yours to command."
Jekri gathered strength and forced herself to stand erect. She took a deep breath and levelly regarded the crew that had committed treason to assist in her rescue.
"In times of darkness, old friends are the truest," she said, including Verrak in her sweeping gaze. "I thank you for your part in my rescue. Rest assured that I will do everything I can to see that you are rewarded, not punished, for your actions here today. Status report."
"Your vessel, the Tektral, waits to rendezvous with us," said Idran. "We will be able to take on what crew wishes to accompany us, as well as the vital information we need to carry out our mission."
"And what mission is that?" challenged Jekri. She thought she knew, but wanted to make certain.
Idran, grizzled and elderly veteran that he was, grinned like a Klingon. He knew exactly what he was doing. And to Jekri's immense pleasure and relief, he told her.
INTERLUDE
THE ENTITY HAD KNOWN THAT AT SOME POINT it WOULD run across them. But it did not wish the contact. It did not wish it at all, but it had a duty to perform.
The Borg cube was all but destroyed. Holes gaped in its side, through which open space was visible. Sparks flew, lights flickered, and it tumbled through space with a randomness and wildness that would have appalled its makers, had they been able to express such a thing.
The Entity hesitated, ruminating. The Borg were implacable in their purpose: to assimilate and plunder the knowledge of other species. Such a single-mindedness- and the term, with them, was quite literal-had made them almost invincible. Almost. Though on occasion, wit and courage and determination had foiled them.
There was no doubt in the Entity's mind, if such it had, that if the bad things, the mutated dark matter, had
found one Borg cube, it had infiltrated all of them. To one degree or another, every Borg ship in the quadrant, or even elsewhere, would be affected at this point. What the Entity was now regarding was merely an infected ship in the later stages.
If it were only the destruction of the Borg that was at stake here, the Entity knew, its decision to help them would be a harder one to make. But there was so much more. Certainly, the Borg would be destroyed, but the dark matter that had been their downfall would linger on, waiting for something more innocent to infect, perverting even the space in which it existed. It would eat away at the fabric of this universe. No matter who benefited, it must needs be contained.
So the Entity descended upon the hurtling Borg cube, enveloping it into itself with a care the ruthless creatures did not deserve. It felt the hive mind trying to assimilate it even now, their multiple thoughts condensed into one powerful demand: We are the Borg. Resistance is futile. Prepare to be assimilated.
But the Entity