Lt. Jg. Kim Stapledon - To Engineering
John Smith
((Security Complex, Deck 11, USS Chin’toka))
The Borg that was Kim fought briefly with Petty Officer Connors. It barely registered the cracks in its fist as it fought against her, blocking and swinging.
We attempt to eliminate the unassimilated. But something is wrong. The connection to some of the units is not stable. Others are exhibiting independent programming instructions.
And one is growing excessively damaged.
But we continue to voice our purpose, to push on.
Borg Stapledon: Eliminate the unassimilated.
Connors: Throw your phasers at the Borg if you have to GET INSIDE.
((Kim's Mindspace))
It's safe here. We're on an adventure, clearing the old buildings of demons and monsters so that one day these ruins can be reclaimed. It is good and noble work.
I charge proudly into an old library, the frozen river to the west now forgotten.
Professor Bartholomew looks approvingly on my daring feat, holding back with Emily as I enter the old structure.
The place is a mess of collapsed shelves and rotting books, frozen mushrooms springing up from their pages. They are a decay held at bay by the cold, in this apocalyptic nightmare inside the disturbed mind of Cáemgen.
I am making things safe for him, so he can come out of his autistic shell.
I round a corner and stop.
((Security Complex, Deck 11, USS Chin’toka))
Three of Twelve (T’Ama): Their weapons are useless.
The data uplink with the ship systems is frail but accurate.
Borg Stapledon: Confirmed. The unassimilated are contained.
Three of Twelve (T’Ama): The Armory is no longer a tactically valuable target.
((Kim's Mindspace))
Two people lie dead, blood running from their heads, steam rising from their bodies. Standing above both them is... my mother.
Kim's Mother: What have you done?
I open my mouth to speak but find my voice is not my own. "Eliminate the unassimilated".
I turn, sprinting from the library and back out into the cold, running past Bartholomew.
"What did you see???"
His voice is comforting and alien at the same time.
"Where are you going?"
I ignore his pleading.
((Security Complex, Deck 11, USS Chin’toka))
We draw a simple conclusion, yet voicing it is increasingly difficult.
Borg Stapledon: Where can I go?
((Kim's Mindspace))
I don't wait for the professor to answer. My lips already feel alien as I speak the words. My body throbs strangely, my legs burning with agony. I have to go on. I can't stop.
Three of Twelve (T’Ama): Proceed to Engineering.
The voice sounds familiar. Is it someone from across the river again?
Bartholomew trudges behind me, the smaller form of Emily beside him.
"Kim? Kim, come back! It's dangerous!"
But I have to go back. To my past. And everyone else is doing it too.
Soon I'm standing on the river bank.
I take my first step onto the ice, avoiding looking down at the ice this time.
((Corridor - USS Chin'toka))
The Borg that was Kim marched in precise formation with the other borg as they made their way toward engineering. And then it began to limp.
((Kim's Mindspace))
Every step is excruciating. I can feel my knee cap pressing against my knee joint at an angle is shouldn't My hip slides inside me, making a sickening sound with each step. The ice below me grows slippery. But I can see the other side now. I can hear the voice telling again to keep fighting.
But I can't bear the pain.
Bartholomew: ::Distant voice:: Kim! I can ease your pain! Just come back!
((Main Engineering - Deck 14))
We make our way toward the unassimilated.
Borg T'Ama: Response?
The Borg that was Stapledon lurched forward, its face a mask of quiet apathy. And yet something had happened. The drone's pain receptors were starting to communicate with its brain again.
((Kim's Mindspace))
With each step I feel like I'm going to fall apart. I'm starting to feel shock coming on.