Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [117]
Studying the battle proceeding on the viewscreen before her, Seven selected a single Indign vessel that seemed to be holding position and allowed it to grow larger in her mind.
Finally, she took a deep breath, and disengaged her neural inhibitor.
There was a moment of confusion as she floated in blackness. Bright flashes of orange and red assaulted the periphery of her awareness but Seven ignored them, willing the Indign vessel to her consciousness.
She found herself standing in a cold, gray room surrounded by four Indign cooperatives. Seven knew she was not physically present among them, but was pleased that she had managed to come this far.
Hear me, she thought.
A tinny buzz began to suffuse her consciousness. At first it sounded like distant static, a distortion to be cleared from the signal she was attempting to transmit. As it grew louder, however, she realized it was the frequency that the various Indign species used to communicate with one another. Individual thoughts buzzed between the Neyser, Greech, and Irsk-Dulaph, all of whom were studying the battle as intently as she had. Concern, alarm, and pain wove their way through the miasma as their companion vessels suffered, and resounding cries of happiness corresponded with direct hits upon the Starfleet ships. Through it all Seven sensed the intensity of their purpose and the absolute unwillingness to accept anything less than the annihilation of their enemies.
Focusing her attention on an individual cooperative, Seven attempted to discern the particular harmony that separated it from the other cooperatives collected in the room.
Evade.
Fire.
Reconfigure shield parameters.
Adjust course.
The cooperative was commenting upon the battle, anxiously awaiting their chance to join the fray.
The simplicity of communication between the creatures reminded Seven of the Borg. The lack of extraneous description, uncolored by emotion, was cold but somehow comforting.
Hear me! Seven demanded, distorting briefly the unity of the cooperative, but not getting their attention.
Who are you?
Seven drew herself up to her full height before she realized that the question had not come from the Indign.
Standing before Seven was the half-human, half-Caeliar child Seven had confronted in Erigol.
You know who I am, Seven replied. Now get out of my way.
You are Annika Hansen, the girl said. You are not wanted here.
Perhaps not, Seven said, raising her chin defiantly. But I am needed.
The girl’s knowing laughter broke through the buzzing of the Indign, distracting Seven’s focus.
You are Annika. Nothing more. You need nothing beyond that to live peacefully among all life-forms. Be at peace, Annika. That is all we require of you.
Your requirements are irrelevant, Seven replied. You abandoned me. You deemed me unworthy of your collective gestalt. I owe you nothing.
The girl’s face fell into unbearable sadness.
Why do you resist? It is unnecessary.
Seven bent at the knee to meet the girl’s eyes.
If you truly wish to help me, she countered,cease your interference. I am Annika, but I am also Seven of Nine. I cannot be less than that for you or anyone. I am more than you can possibly imagine or contain. Accept me as I am, and I will do the same for you.
The girl smiled shyly, then threw herself into Seven’s arms. Where she touched Seven’s body, she dissolved into it.
Seven rose unsteadily to her feet. The strength tingling through her was something she had never felt before. She was once again embraced by the countless billions of the gestalt and she tasted their power, but she also felt their compassion. In a flash she remembered the last time she had stood before them and remembered with stark clarity the truth that had eluded and haunted her every moment since that time: the truth that had made the voice the Caeliar had encoded into her catoms both necessary and no longer relevant.
The moment was as fleeting. This time, as it dissipated, Seven found that she was able to keep a firm hold on all that she was.
Seven turned again to the Indign.
Focusing