Two of Eleven <Kaito Moore> - Embrace, Let go, and Embrace Pt.1
Lieutenant j.g. Kaito Moore
((Deck 6 Corridor, USS Kitty Hawk))
Two of Eleven: Tactical assessment complete. Collective, significant threat to control of Kitty Hawk. Unassimilated Marines attempting to access heavy weaponry in armory. Recommended action: engage and eliminate threat. Seize weaponry for command drones and tactical drones. Use weaponry to eliminate all unassimilated.
Seven of Eleven: Directives modified. Designating subordinate units to proceed to transporter rooms. Completing securing and sanitization of Deck 6.
Two of Eleven turned, accessing Kaito’s memory, looking at the map of the ship Kaito was studying before he joined the Collective. Kaito mentally winced as he felt the violation of his mind, and an echo rang in his head...
“Give up, El-Aurian. Join us. Join your people, they are waiting. Stop resisting. Resistance is futile. The pain will go away, then you will achieve perfection. Just give up.”
As Two of Eleven started its march towards the armory, Kaito tried to hang on. The voice was alluring, inviting, and... comforting. Kaito felt defeated, lost, and tired from fighting a futile fight. As Two of Eleven turned a corner like a mindless machine, turning its phase pistol on a hiding Bolian—white shoulders on the uniform, she was most likely support staff, perhaps a cook or a barber—Kaito wondered if she had a family, someone she was trying to make it back to... "Futile" rang through his head as Two of Eleven ended the poor Bolian.
Two of Eleven: Unassimilated eliminated.
Kaito was ready to give up, but part of him held on. He had to fight. He had to resist.
oO I’m sorry. Oo
Two of Eleven reached the transporter room, joined by a cadre of several support units that the drone had assembled for the assault.
The corridors of Deck 6 were beginning to quiet now, only a few small pockets of resistance remained. Two groups of Marines providing resistance, and, unassimilated, detected. Two of Eleven looked towards a Jefferies tube as a pair of unarmed drones dragged a Vulcan out by her legs. Kaito watched in horror, as he looked at her emotionless face, but he could see there was emotion buried deep in her striking gaze; pity. Seven of Eleven erased that emotion with one swift shot.
The two moved with their cadre of drones on to the last remaining pocket of resistance between the Borg and the claiming of this territory.
The firing patterns of the drones assaulting the Marines shifted as more joined them. Two of Eleven assessed the situation, the collective link between the tactical drone and the others providing the intel, while Kaito’s mind provided the needed tactical databank. The drones were not outshooting the more accurate Marines. Sacrifices must be made for the Collective.
Two of Eleven: Assessment complete, Phalanx formation, expendable drones in front, providing covering fire, tactical and command drones in the rear protected by phalanx. March on position and overrun unassimilated.
Suddenly the drones stopped shooting, and in perfect unity, the drones formed up in a defensive position around Seven of Eleven and Two of Eleven. Perfection. Each had room to aim, but also provided a shield for the Elevens. Random, targeted shots became something more of a synchronized screen of phaser blasts and beams, alternating their fire to create an oppressive suppression fire. When each Marine dove behind a barricade for cover, they suddenly found it nearly impossible to peek their heads back up.
Marine Cayne: Wh… what are they doing!? I can’t get a shot off! The grenades! Where are the grenades?!
Marine Rocheford: Keep it together, soldier!
Marine Zahra: More drones, all sides. They’re coming down on us hard, sir!
What few shots the Marines did get off were on target, but the lattice-like formation of the drones kept the Elevens shielded from harm. Preserving the integrity of the subordinate drones was not a priority. The Elevens were the true instruments of the Collective’s will on board this vessel. Sacrificing some of their numbers was optimal, rang in Kaito’s mind. It was the right thing to do for the collective.
Marine Cayne: ::panic rising:: What’s that one doing? Why’s it just standing there like that?!
Marine Stasny: Cayne! Grenade!
One of the Marines passed the stun grenade over to the one designated Cayne behind the barricade. He fumbled with it, using the presence of the small gray device to calm his nerves. The Borg had grouped up perfectly for this. He could take most of them out in one go!
It was the precise moment he emerged, the grenade coming into sight, that Seven of Eleven finally fired its phaser for the first time. The shot was carefully aimed, anticipated, and calculated. Cayne of Rahman’s cut-short cry was the only warning the other unassimilated combatants received, and with the relentless suppressive fire above them, there was nowhere to retreat to. One of them attempted to make a break for it, to scramble for the safety of the turbo lift doors, but it was far too late.
The bright blue light on the small grenade glowed, and then the sound of the expanding energy ripped through the air. In unison, all six of the Marines crumpled to the ground as the equivalent of a phaser set to stun rammed into their bodies. The one who had nearly reached the turbolift had their hand between the doors.
The phaser fire of the drones ceased at once, and they stepped aside to allow the Elevens to advance on the fallen Marines. Even though it had been just a stun grenade, at such close range, these soldiers likely weren’t rejoining the fight without medical attention. But they were not dealing with a foe capable of empathy. The Collective’s directive was clear.
Kaito watched in horror as the collective drove his body forward, phase pistol out, and emotionlessly executed four of the six Marines. No matter how hard he struggled, his resistance was futile, and he felt it. He felt his mind being prodded again.
“El-Aurian, in the end, it is all the same, submission, assimilation, or death. Resistance is futile.”
Seven of Eleven: ::to the Collective:: ** Neutralization of unknown variables on Deck 6 complete. Unassimilated eliminated. Deck 6 secure. Resistance was futile. **
The turbolift slid shut, and all at once, Deck 6 was at peace. There was no sound remaining but the low rumbling hum of the ship’s core and the distant, booming vibrations of combat both within and outside of the Kitty Hawk. Even the hallways were eerily sterile - if it weren’t for the scorch marks, broken lights, and sporadic signs of blood, it would almost seem like normalcy had returned...
...But the once busy transport hub of the vessel’s saucer section was now hauntingly silent and empty, save for the assimilated drones that had been left behind to guard the transporter rooms.
Two of Eleven < Kaito Moore >
Tactical Drone
Borg Collective
A240006KM1