Perfection, 18 of 28
"PERFECTION"
by Jim Smith
Fine print: I don't own Star Trek and I'm not claiming to. I just own the story. Ask me before you do anything with it.
Chapter Eighteen.
What the Xhiryptyr'x lacked in technological sophistication, they made up for with ferocious tenacity. Whatever edge the Zeroes had in firepower was soon negated, as their rebellious conscripts surprised them and captured their weaponry. From their the insurgency might have settled into a deadlock, but the Xhiryptyr'x had more fight in them. At the precipice of a major battle with the Borg, Unimatrix Zero were preoccupied with what they had to lose. The Xhiryptyr'x could only see what they had to gain.
Tirava and Hardcastle did their best to weave around the fighting, using whatever crawlspace and access tunnels they could find to stay out of a crossfire. When there was no way through, they stood alongside the Zeroes and fired upon the rebels. It wasn't their preference--they had worked to foment this uprising, after all. But the Xhiryptyr'x couldn't be counted on to recognize two unlikely allies, and each of them had more pressing concerns. Hardcastle had to reach his ship. And Tirava had to find Saa.
In tight spaces that demanded hand-to-hand combat, the Xhiryptyr'x were even deadlier. The Zeroes were free of Borg control, but not of the bulky implants that slowed their movements. They were completely outclassed by the savage speed of their conscripts, making it difficult to advance through bottlenecks and sharp corners. Tirava was the only ex-Borg aboard the station who could get through the Xhiryptyr'x's lines, and Hardcastle was the only one dogged enough to follow her.
As they waded through corpses and enemy fire, Hardcastle would periodically receive a call from his ship. "Commander, they're trying to break through the airlock! We can't wait much longer!"
"Clear all moorings and keep the Purgabantur in transporter range!" he answered. "I'll notify you when I'm ready to beam up!"
Tirava ran ahead of him, to tackle a Xhiryptyr'x and stun two more. "Go to your ship, Flint," she demanded. "You're only slowing me down!"
"Not a chance, Ava!" He caught sight of a group further down the corridor, planning an ambush, and fired at them to cover her advance. "I'm not leaving you alone down here, and I'm not dumb enough to take you with me until you've found what you're looking for!"
She cursed herself for not recognizing the ambush herself, and took out her frustrations on the next man that got in her way. Her warrior instincts were clouded by distraction, by her ever-changing priorities. She could trace it back to the day she broke her word to Unimatrix Zero, and tarnished her honor to save Kreighen's life. Since then she'd compromised herself at every turn. She was willing to work alongside the Zeroes until she could go back for Kreighen. Then she settled for betraying the Zeroes to help Saa liberate the Xhiryptyr'x. Now all she cared about was ensuring Saa's safety, and letting the Zeroes and the Xhiryptyr'x destroy one another. The shame of it smoldered in the back of her brain, growing with each step she took further into disgrace.
By the time they reached the Xhiryptyr'x encampment in docking bay nineteen, it was virtually deserted. The conscripts had little interest in securing what had, for months, been their prison. So there was no one there to get in her way when she found Saa's body, still laying where she had died. Her corpse had been picked clean of anything that might be remotely of value, including several of her teeth.
For an instant it all made sense--the Xhiryptyr'x uprising had been so senseless and brutal because it had begun in spite of Saa, not because of her--but only for an instant. But when the child's death fully registered, nothing made sense to Tirava. Not the Borg, which had stolen half of her life. Not the Federation, which rescued her just to abandon her into exile. Not Unimatrix Zero, so bent on revenge that that it adopted the inhumanity practiced by its foe. And now, finally, not even the Xhiryptyr'x--even in the bonds of slavery, presented with a faint glimmer of hope, they preferred to murder a girl for being female than to embrace the future.
In front of what was left of her friend, Tirava fell to her knees, and then collapsed altogether. In the distance she could hear the sounds of battle, but the war was now over for her. There was nothing left to fight for, no cause worth compromising her integrity yet again. Since the days of the first baleen sailing ships on Andoria, her ancestors had spilled and shed blood in war. But for her, war had proven to be a futility that she could no longer resist. Her dishonor was now complete.
"Hardcastle to Purgabantur." She heard his voice, but could find no reason to care. "Rendezvous with the fleet. I'm staying behind."
Sprawled on the deckplate, she buried her head in her arms. "I don't need your pity," she seethed.
"You don't need yours either," he said bluntly. Kneeling beside her, he added, "I'm sorry. She was a brave young woman..."
"That's why they killed her," Tirava reasoned. "I knew they would, and I made her confront them anyway..."
He didn't accept that. "You convinced her to do what she knew was right. Just like you convinced me. Now it's your turn." He could see that didn't persuade her. "Ava, if these people don't get off the station before the Borg show up, they'll all die."
"Let them die!" When she lifted her head to face him, her eyes were a deep, bloodshot blue. Her one good antenna was pointed straight in the air, signalling hostility to anyone who came too close.
"I won't. And if you ever gave a damn about this girl, you won't either. The Xhiryptyr'x are a loathsome people, Ava, but so was my species. They deserve a chance to someday regret what happened here. Give them that chance. We need to contact your friend's shuttle, and help him shut down Korok's new toy before the Borg hear about it."
Tirava looked away, and closed her eyes tightly as if to shut out the pain. But in that darkness, all she could sense was Saa, via the chemical and electromagnetic signals picked up by her antenna. Try as she might, she couldn't ignore what Hardcastle was saying. She was an Andorian warrior, not some guilt-ridden, grief-stricken milksop. And more to the point, she was a Starfleet officer, sworn to a duty that would outlast any dispute she had with Starfleet policy.
So she ran her fingers through Saa's blood, wiped it across her cheek, and pulled herself back to her feet.