Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [90]
Almost.
“I’m sorry, Seven,” Eden said, “but it’s hard for me to believe that what you’re suggesting is even possible.”
“I’ve experienced stranger things, Captain,” Chakotay interjected. “And I’m willing to bet you have, too.”
Eden cast a troubled glance outside the windows of her ready room. Sighing deeply, she chose her words carefully. “The Indign sent a messenger to us. You were there, Seven. If your assumption is true, couldn’t they just have used you to facilitate communication?”
Seven paused to formulate her response. She realized she was running the risk of appearing dismissive and irrational and tempered her words accordingly. “I do not believe that the same individuals responsible for sending the consciousness that briefly assumed Ensign McDonnell’s body to us are the ones who are trying to communicate directly with me.”
“But you said that the consciousness that instructed you to open the canister also used your catoms.”
“Yes, I did,” Seven agreed.
“Why do you assume that you are now dealing with a different individual or group of individuals?”
Seven replied evenly. “The consciousness within the canister spoke directly in my mind. I heard its words and felt its need. The knowledge required to free it came to me directly, almost as if it were controlling my actions. The second communication was free of an emotional connection. There were no words, but rather just images. Those images were distressing. It was like sharing a memory—not at all like the violating presence I experienced in sickbay.”
“And how can you be certain that this second communication originated on the fourth planet?”
“The most distinct image that I remember was of a village. Crude tents and small stone structures were organized around a central clearing containing a well and communal fire pits. There is nothing like this to be found on the third planet. The fourth one—the one we believe to be the Neyser breeding and retirement ground—contains a number of these settlements. Many of the Neyser on the fourth planet live in cities, but a few live on a remote continent and have maintained a rustic existence. I cannot tell you to a certainty that this was the origin of the communication, but it is an educated guess.”
Eden ran her hand over her short, black hair, massaging her scalp as she considered Seven’s words.
“A guess, Seven? They asked us to leave their system. You want me to violate the Prime Directive on a guess? First the admiral, now this,” she mused, shaking her head.
“Excuse me, Captain,” Chakotay said. “The admiral?”
The look on the captain’s face suggested she wished she hadn’t let that particular fact slip.
“He believes that unless we provide the Indign with further information about the Borg, including their transformation by the Caeliar, we are damning other sentient beings to being captured and killed for Indign offerings.”
“Admiral Batiste is correct, Captain,” Seven was quick to note.
Eden’s eyes flared. “In what respect?”
“We should reveal to the Indign the true nature of the Borg.”
“I understand why you feel that way, but it’s also a Prime Directive issue, Seven,” Chakotay advised her.
Seven noted the surprise on Eden’s face at Chakotay’s words.
“It is,” Eden agreed. “I hope the Indign will realize in their own time that there is no need to make further offerings to the Borg. But we cannot corrupt their cultural development by—”
“By telling them the truth?” Seven said with obvious heat.
“It’s not that simple,” Chakotay said in a clear attempt to mollify her. “We could share with them the fact that the Borg no longer exist. But once you pull that tiny thread, the rest of the fabric begins to unravel. We cannot provide them with proof of our assertions. We cannot give them classified details about the Federation’s role in the matter. It’s not really a question of telling them the truth. It’s how much truth should