Round 1 JP: WALTAS/REDSTONE: The Festering Wound, Parts I and II

[Tracey]

(( Redstone-Waltas Quarters // USS Discovery ))

:: She had finished her shift and, since the there appeared to be no

immediate threat to the ship, left a member of her department on the Bridge

with orders to contact her should that change, and headed back to their

quarters. Worry etched into her features as she waited impatiently for the

turbolift doors to open. Only a few days from the start of her sixth month

of pregnancy, her rapidly expanding belly had begun to alter the way she

moved, slowing her down a bit, making it harder to get out of a chair that

was a bit too comfortable. Still, she moved as quickly as she could,

entering their quarters to find Tyr sitting on the sofa in the living area.

She made sure that Teagan wasn't home yet and then sat down beside him with

a slight 'oofing' sound. ::

REDSTONE: So ....

::He was quiet. Withdrawn. Even his posture on the couch showed that. Knees

drawn up, elbows on them. Chin resting on forearms. Blank stare out the

window at the inside of the Dyson sphere.::

WALTAS::Swallowing hard:: I thought I had them beaten, Eden. I didn't think

they'd defeat me again.

REDSTONE: :: Looking concerned :: Thought you had who beaten, Tyr? Are you

alright? What happened?

WALTAS::Voice cracking:: Old scars. Before you knew me.

:: She reached up to stroke his hair back and slide closer to him, drawing

his head to her shoulder as she continued to rhythmically stroke his hair,

his forehead. In her embrace, he felt safe, comforted. He chided himself-a

grown man being held and comforted like a child-but there was strength

there. Strength he lacked. And love that had saved him.::

REDSTONE: Tell me ... please? I'd like to understand.

WALTAS: I.I tried to describe it to the Counselor I don't think I can. God,

Eden.if you could only..

REDSTONE: Then show me ... How about that?

::He sat up and she turned toward him slightly, one hand reaching up to

touch the side of his face. So dearly loved. ::

REDSTONE: If you're sure ...

WALTAS::He hesitated, then spoke, his voice flat. Emotionless:: It's the

only way.

REDSTONE: :: nodding :: My mind to your mind ...

WALTAS: My thoughts, to your thoughts.

WALTAS/REDSTONE: Our minds are merging..our minds are one.

WALTAS: They had my sword.

((Borg Cube, Dead Space, 30 years ago))

::He was a young Lieutenant wearing the gold uniform of Security / Tactical.

His hair was a dark brown, lacking the gray. His eyes were bright and

intense, both with mischief and wonder. Then the scene panned back to reveal

the horror of a Borg Cube-the chaotic circuitry surrounding them.::

Waltas::Turning, grinning.:: I'm going to get my sword back, of course.

::Tyr ignored Gabriel's protests and approached them as quietly as he could.

The nearest drone looked to be female, or at least it used to be. His lip

curled in derision. Before they could act, Tyr already had his prize. The

katana was in his hand. He smiled as he remembered Nakagawa's words. "May

you find peace, but if conflict comes, strike, and strike true." Tyr brought

the blade down hard on the nearest drone and it dug into the shoulder. He

removed it and drove the blade into the neck, then twisted. Sparks flew as

the drone hit the ground. The third drone, blade-arm attached, stalked him.

::

::As expected, the drone attempted to use the new weapon and sliced at Tyr.

Tyr blocked the blade with his own, spun and swung the katana as hard as he

could against the blade of the drone. The weapons clashed together, but

Tyr's katana was hand-made, folded over, and over, thousands of times, so

that it was nearly unbreakable. The Borg's weapon failed and snapped in

half. The drone looked, stunned, at the shattered weapon.::

Waltas: A cheap imitation, Borg. Just like you are.

::Tyr drove his blade deep into the Borg's chest, then ripped upward,

effectively killing him.::

Gabriel: Lieutenant! Look out!

::Hearing Gabriel's warning, he turned just in time to see the third drone

close in on him. Before he could act, the Borg struck him, hard, on the side

of the head. As he fell the drone grabbed him, and two small tubes shot into

his neck. Tyr gasped-he knew what was happening. He struck out with his

blade frantically but could do little. The pain was growing...::

Waltas: Gabriel...sword...

::Gabriel smashed the heavy claymore into the back of the drone and killed

it. Tyr dropped to the floor, pain shooting through his neck and spreading

quickly. He was dizzy and his vision was blurring. He was slowly being

assimilated. His stomach turned as his mind told him there were nanites

crawling through his body-corrupting him, confiscating him in the name of

the Borg. His worst fear had come to pass-he was becoming a Borg. He shook

his head and screamed.::

Waltas: No...NO!!!

(( Present ))

:: He had always been a bit rash. That was Tyr even back then. First one to

jump into the middle of it. She'd loved that about him from the first

because that was her as well. She enveloped him within the strength and

support of her love for him so that he knew he wasn't alone in his memories

any longer. She had never insisted on a complete sharing between them and

she saw now that that had been wrong. ::

o 0 This has all been festering inside of him for so long. 0 o

:: She kept her own reactions behind a tightly held shield, one she knew he

didn't have the strength to penetrate, saving all of that for later. For

now, it was important only that he remembered it all. Let the poison out. ::

((30 Years Ago, Borg Cube, Dead Space))

Gabriel: We should leave Lieutenant, now!

::Tyr gazed at the young Ensign. He was so full of life-just beginning the

journey that Tyr had begun 230 years ago. While Gabriel was at the beginning

of the road, Tyr knew he was at the end. His road ended in a cliff where he

would fall from grace-fall from the loving touch of Nature's hand into a

dark, dreary existence. His eyes told the Ensign all he needed to say.::

Gabriel: You will have to explain what I should do sir.

::He let out a sigh holding back the tears forming in his eyes. Tyr placed a

thankful hand on Gabriel's shoulder, resisting the whisper that told him

that the fifth vertebrae was nearby and he could easily snap it and kill the

human. He shook his head, fighting the urge. He gazed at the Constitution on

the viewport and tears filled his eyes. He'd never get to see his ship

again-the first ship he ever set foot on as an Ensign. He would never walk

her corridors again, or feel the camraderie of his shipmates.::

((30 Years Ago, Borg Cube, Dead Space))

Borg Collective: You are drone 14732. You will assist in the assimilation of

Federation units nearby. Comply.

o O No.... O o

Borg Collective: Drone 14732. You will comply.

o O NO!! O o

::With his last ounce of strength, he withdrew the remote shuttle control

from his uniform, now ripped from Borg implants piercing his skin. He

reached for the program he'd written to retrieve them all. He looked down at

his golden comm badge on his chest, grabbed it, and tossed it away. He

watched it clatter to a stop near the center of the away team. Tyr took a

deep breath as the Borg drew closer.::

Borg Collective: Drone 14732. Do not aid in the Federation escape. Comply

immediately.

::Tyr looked at his friends. As they disappeared within a transporter beam,

Tyr's world crumbled. He stood, extended his arm, now covered in implants,

and accepted the lead drone's injection of nanites. He turned to look at the

shuttle and the Constitution in the distance. As his mind filled with

instructions, commands and information about how to best assist in

regenerating the cube, a single tear slid down the face of Drone 14732.::

((Present))

WALTAS: They had me..they used me..to kill them.

:: She held him safe in her arms and within the meld, channeling love and

support to him, as she listened and took in every bit of the horror he had

experienced. In a way, they were both experiencing this now. ::

REDSTONE: They had us ... we didn't have the strength to resist ..

((30 years ago, Borg Cube, Dead Space))

::Drone 14732 positioned himself out of the line of sight of most of the

combatants, and he watched his drones battle as he crawled into position.

The two drones were cut down by the Brikar, but he was visibly tired and

possibly wounded. Now was his chance. He leapt from the platform onto the

back of the Brikar and grabbed his hair. Using all of his technology-driven

strength, he drove him to the ground. The metallic, blade-like weapon

emerged from his right arm and he thrust it down into the Brikar's shoulder,

pinning him to the deck. The drone looked down at the fallen Brikar, a

moment's hesitation stopped him.

His Ba'ku side intruded once more, but was quickly cut off.::

BORG COLLECTIVE: Drone 14732: Proceed with assimilation of command

personnel.

::The hesitation was gone. He moved to assimilate the Fleet Captain, but

something, or rather, someone, stopped him.::

((Present))

WALTAS: They brought me back to the Constitution. To save me. And in thanks

I killed them. I broke out of Sickbay, and that's where I truly fell.

:: Behind her own shield in that protected part of her brain, Eden already

understood something that Tyr seemed to discount or overlook. He had fought

the assimilation every step of the way. He had hesitated, fighting to regain

control. But he was Ba'Ku and it was a fight that he had been unprepared to

face. ::

((30 years ago, Sickbay, USS Constitution))

::The blast from the phaser stunned him, but the beam continued, digging

into his Borg armor and into his flesh. His entire body spasmed as the beam

forced him to the ground. Intense pain radiated from the wound outward to

his extremities. Every muscle clinched, every nerve ending screamed out in

pain. Were he still Borg, he would be easily repaired, but he was once again

Ba'ku-and a very weakened one. He collapsed onto the deck as a hypospray was

placed against his neck.

((Present))

WALTAS: I died, Eden.I was truly gone.

:: Of all the people in the universe, Eden was probably the most well

equipped to deal with the memory of one's own death. She felt the pain along

side him, felt him fall to the deckplate. Felt the spasms that made his

muscles contract as the pain radiated outward. And now she too would carry

the memory of his death. A burden she shouldered willingly. ::

REDSTONE: We were gone ...

((30 years ago, Dead Space, USS Constitution))

=/\= I regret to inform you that.....Lieutenant Waltas has died, sir. =/\=

((Nowhere))

::Something deep inside Tyr stirred. He recalled the cold, lifeless touch of

technology. He remembered what it felt like, and knew that those same Borg

implants were now active again, except this time they sought to heal instead

of harm. In the abyss where he now floated, he began to feel again-to sense

things around him. The implants sparked to life, forcing his lungs to draw

breath, his heart to beat, his blood to flow. He could feel himself being

pulled back from where he was now-that place that defied description.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he was drawn from the ether. He was whole again.

::

:: He took a breath, and felt the implants fade. He hovered on the brink of

existence and oblivion. All of his hopes rested on that which he'd hated his

entire life. The same implants that ripped and corrupted his body now fought

against death itself. He lived within that moment-battling death-frozen in

time. His strength ebbed. Had he given them enough time? He was answered by

a deep breath drawn into his lungs. He could BREATHE again. His heart beat

furiously, forcing blood through his body. The implants which had fought so

hard for him finally failed-every one of them shut down, but it was enough.

::

:: Tyr opened his eyes. His hand moved to grip the blanket over him and he

slowly drew it away.::

((Sickbay, USS Constitution))

::The nurse spun in utter shock and confusion as the sound emanated from

Waltas. She gasped in amazement as she saw the sheet drawn down from his

face, and saw him gasping for breath.::

Best: DOCTOR! DOCTOR GABRIEL!! HURRY!

((Present))

::The mind meld faded, leaving him weakened from reliving those moments, but

strengthened by the fact that he had shared them. Finally, someone could

see-truly see-what had happened. What they had done to him.::

WALTAS::Quietly:: Now you know.

:: She opened herself to him through the bond they shared, let him see her

reactions, her thoughts. Let him short through her feelings and understand

that she both understood what had happened and that she loved him still. She

let him see that she empathized with his pain, the horror of what he had

been through. Nothing held back. Even the security officer part of her who

was noodling around ideas for how to help him fight should he ever be

threatened with that again. ::

:: Mostly though, she flooded him with her love and support and care for

him. Let him know that the memories were shared now, a burden they would

carry together from this point forward, let him know that he was loved.

Heart and soul. He opened his eyes fully, the blue reflecting the same

intensity of that young Lieutenant who had seen the other side of death. His

voice was now steady, his strength returning. He placed his hand gently on

her growing abdomen.::

WALTAS::Determined, steady voice:: We're getting out of here.

Captain Tyr Waltas

Commanding Officer

USS Discovery

-and-

Commander Eden Redstone

Chief Tactical Officer

USS Discovery