To All Those Who Wander
Posted on Thu Aug 25th, 2022 @ 8:48am by Lieutenant Mila Lynn & Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Ashix Zirda
1,929 words; about a 10 minute read
Mission:
Chapter VI: Racing the Storm
Location: Drozana Station
Ashix Zirda stood alone in the long corridor of Drozana Station with her gaze locked on the broken obsidian wall console before her, tears running down her cheeks for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. Her face was as she had remembered for ages, a visage of the past restored after so long locked in the eternal damnation that was the Borg Collective. Now, today, she stood a renewed person for the first time since she had escaped from the Borg. The sound of her own thoughts comforting, no longer lost in the thunderous roar of the Collective consciousness.
For so long Ashix had never believed she would see her face again. When her Sphere was disconnected from the Collective after the assimiliation of the Federation's New Haddonfield Colony she had been horrified by her reflection, a distorted afterimage of a life that was devastated by the Collective. What should have been comforting, to be oneself again, was nothing more than torture. Through her self-discovery she learned the chilling truth of her own history. She learned how she had been responsible for the destruction of her world. She learned that she had been trapped across the galaxy from the stars she knew. She learned that, no matter what, the Borg would never escape her. Worst of all she learned that she would forever be hunted for what the monsters had done to her, the prize inside her body worth 10 times her weight in latinum.
So many doctors had told her that it would be impossible to separate her from the machine. While she looked Human she was Sikarian. Her race, while well-traveled, were an unknown in this neck of the woods and no one dare try to restore her to her old life. The risks were great as the chances of freeing her permanently were less than the chance they would trigger the Borg failsafe. In an instant she could forever become a weapon of destruction again, pillaging the galaxy to add another voice to the Collective.
One doctor, however, took the chance. After escaping Bjayzl for another time, one of the buther's associates had managed to locate Ashix at the abandoned asteroid colony. Instead of wanting her for her nanoprobes, the Tellarite had taken pity on her instead. Studying her, he figured out a way to restore her to her former appearance and limit the devastating influence that was the Borg. He couldn't do it there though, he needed more resources than the forsaken colony could offer. So, they ended up on Drozana.
And now he was gone, absconded with her implants but leaving her free for the first time in a lifetime. But what would come next she wondered.
Lieutenant Mila Lynn, Chief Science Officer, Independent Romulan Warbird Ourainavassa. The young scientist shook her head. When she and her brother ran from their home on Cera, this was the last thing they had expected their future to be. And yet, here they were, fully involved in an operation to help evacuate civilians from what would soon be the ruins of the Romulan Star Empire. Her theoretical work, trying to prove that if time travel existed, parallel universes would naturally also have to exist, had become redundant when one of those parallel universes suddenly showed up to the party. Now, Mila was instead working on improving the shields and cloaking systems on the ships that were going to go into the Empire.
Usually, Renée, as quartermaster, would be in charge of getting the supplies Mila needed for her designs, but today, she had decided to wander Drozana station herself. After all, as good as Renée was at finding the best deal for what they knew they needed, she did not have the knowledge needed to find the hidden gems that could solve problems before they even appeared.
Mila had just completed the last of the day's purchases - schematics for a holomatrix that would improve the performance of the personal projectors Kali and her crew would use to disguise themselves - when she spotted a lone figure standing alone in a nearby corridor, just off from the main bazaar. Her right hand moved to the small disruptor pistol on her belt, while with her left she swiped over the controls for her aural implants, increasing the sensitivity of her hearing. After all, lone figures in a shady alley on Drozana were rarely good news, and her turquoise hair and white uniform jacket made her far too conspicuous for comfort in these situations. She had considered dying her hair, of course, but always decided against it.
"Hey, you," she called out to the lone figure. "The way you're standing there, you're either going to cause trouble, or be in trouble. Neither of which are a good idea here."
After a decade of a cacophony of voices assaulting her brain with the unending chatter that was the collective, Ashix had trouble discerning the single voice amidst the quiet of Drozana Station. Had someone called out to her? She really wasn't certain. So many times before people had called out to her in terror, treating her like a modern-day Frankenstein's Monster to be destroyed. One of the few pieces of literature she was aware of from this part of the galaxy was the tale of Frankenstein, a gift from the crew of Voyager in exchange for the Spatial Trajector Technology they so desperately needed. It failed. She failed. It all led to devastation and death.
She turned to the newcomer, admiring the simplicity of what she wore, "Excuse me?"
Mila tilted her head, her hand still on her pistol. "This is not a particularly safe station for you to just be standing there, apparently completely unaware of what's going on around you." She pointed her hand behind her, towards the busy bazaar. "Trust me on that one, I've experienced plenty of the nasty around here. Are you okay, do you need help?"
Ashix glanced at the bazaar behind her, taking in the noises and remembering her native world for a moment before returning to her senses, "You know I never really thought much about that. I guess I'm in my own little world," her reflection caught her gaze momentarily another time as she turned back toward the other. "If what you say is true though you must be quite brave. If there's so much nasty going on how do you know I'm not one of the nasties?"
Mila smirked. "That sounds a lot more sensible. But would someone up to no good really walk around wearing a military uniform, with these pinned on?" She pointed towards her combadge bearing Ourainavassa's crest and the two silver crescents on her collar denoting her rank as a Lieutenant on a - admittedly treasonous - Romulan vessel. "Lieutenant Mila Lynn, Chief Science Officer on the warbird Ourainavassa", she introduced herself. "And you are?"
That was a good question. Who was she? Was she Two of Twelve, Operations Matrix Adjunct of Sphere 618? Her mind almost let her say it, the title echoing through her aching body. Was she Ashix Zirda of Sikaris? Her mouth almost spilled the words as she thought them. Was she both? Was she neither? Was she someone else entirely? So many questions, so many riddles filled her mind. It was Hellish. She knew the other expected an answer to such a simple question, but how was such a question so simple when you had been condemned to another life?
"A rather impressive title, Lieutenant Mila Lynn of the warbird Ourainavassa. I'm afraid I have no idea what any of that means."
Mila frowned. The woman in front of her was acting very strange, but why? Was she under the influence of any substances, or maybe affected by an illness that clouded her mind? Either way, a shady side alley on Drozana was surely not a safe place for her to be.
"Are you well?", she asked, with genuine concern in her voice, her hand still on her weapon. After all, she had seen this before. Someone feigning confusion or illness to get their prey to lower its guard was one of the oldest tricks in the book. "Do you need medical assistance, or any other kind of help, do you have somewhere safe to go?"
She smiled, "I'm better than I've been in a long time, but I'm afraid that I don't have anywhere to go really. I'm not exactly from around here." She was honest this time, a bit more lucid. "I guess you could say I'm lost in space. My homeworld is about 70,000 lightyears away - give or take."
Mila's eyes widened in shock. "Delta or Gamma? How the hell did you- you know what, it doesn't really matter. I still don't know your name, stranger. Do you know anyone around here that could help you, or are you on your own entirely?"
"Ashix," the former drone relented, "Ashix Zirda and I'm from the Delta Quadrant, a small planet called Sikaris. My getting here is a... long story," and it was. Even she wasn't exactly sure of how much she remembered of it. She just knew that she was lost in space a lifetime away from home. As she stood there she wondered if she had revealed too much as it was. If what this Mila said was true Drozana Station was a dangerous place. Could she have told her that risk just to lull her into a false sense of security with this Science Officer?
Truth be told she was being hunted, Bjayzl was enamored by the complexity of her implants and would stop at nothing to get them. Any ex-Borg was at that risk. If not for the surgeon that helped her it was entirely possible that Bjayzl would have eventually found her and taken them, killing her in the process. Now the surgeon would be her target. Maybe she was just as dangerous as the rest on Drozana?
"I know some people."
"Ashix Zirda." Mila nodded. "Pleaure to meet you. Now, those people you know, do you trust them? You're a long way from home, and it seems you're stuck here. Not many peoples have the technology to easily travel between here and the Delta Quadrant. I know of two groups that do, but neither of them are the sort you'd want to rely on for that. What are your plans now that you are here?"
She answered simply, "Survival."
The young Lieutenant smiled. "You're not the only one with that kind of goal. Do you have any particular skills that might help you with that, though? Maybe something that could get you hired onto a ship's crew?"
"Know any that are hiring?" The Sikarian woman answered sincerely, but knowing she had to be careful how she answered because they Borg technology was highly sought after by some. "I ran a logistics business for many, many years on my homeworld of Sikaris. Problem is it may be a bit difficult to check my references. Sikaris is about 70,000 light-years from here and it was assimilated by the Borg."
Mila nodded. "Logistics and operations, yeah? I think I know a ship that could use those skills, especially if you know your way around some engineering basics as well. Interested?"
She smirked, "I really haven't anywhere else to go. Alright," she relented wondering just what she'd gotten herself into.
Mila smiled. "That's basically what my brother and I said. You won't regret it. Follow me."
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