"What is our Darling Master's command, Miroku?"
"There is a version of our lord and master from another dimension currently with the base grounds, Unit One," Miroku informed the just-awakened Lum and the other members of Group Yatsura. "Currently, he is in Sector Forty-nine-Delta with a landing party from the United Federation starship Voyager. Our lord and master commands that your group is to combine forces with Group 'Nibunoichi' to capture this other version of himself and have him brought to our master's chambers. This is to be done now."
"By our Darling Master's command," Lum stoically replied as she and the others -- Oyuki, Benten, Ran, Miyake Shinobu, Sakurambou Sakura, Mizunokoji Asuka and Fujinami Ryuunosuke -- bowed to the image of the golden-haired humanoid Cylon.
The visual link was cut, then the eight enslaved women from Ataru's home dimension headed off. Several seconds later, the air near Lum's now-empty suspension unit fizzled, revealling a young martial artist in a red Mandarin tang and black track pants, his raven hair tied in a tight pigtail. "Another version of Moroboshi in this place?" Saotome Ranma muttered to himself before moving to follow Lum and her teammates, allowing himself to fade once more behind the null-chi cloak of the Umisen-ken...
In orbit...
Kasuga Ayumu yawned, a hand patting her now-full tummy. "I'm tired..."
"You're always tired, Osaka," Mizuhara Koyomi muttered before slurping down the rest of her ramen.
One of the androids who normally worked on handling the Windrider's vast sea of solar sails, a burly-looking male whose gold skin denoted that he had been constructed on the planet Zeiwan, turned to gaze on Ayumu. "Do you wish to lay down for a while, Lady Kasuga?"
"Don't tempt her," Yomi warned, her eyes dancing behind her glasses at his well-sculptured form. Even if she knew this fellow and the others working on this ship were androids -- she understood the term to mean robots in humanoid form, like Data from Star Trek - The Next Generation -- Yomi couldn't begin to ignore how handsome the males were.
"Oh, it's quite alright, Lady Mizuhara," he assured the bespectacled woman. "You've all been through quite an unnerving experience. Common humanity dictates that you should be given as many chances as possible to recuperate before returning to your normal lives."
"Could I sleep in Ataru-kun's bed?" Ayumu asked. "He has such a large bed."
"But of course," the android replied, nodding. He then turned to the other AzuDai girls. "If any of you require a time to rest, please ask. I am sure the Venerable One's sisters wouldn't mind at all if you use their cabins."
"I'll take Ataru's cabin!!" Takino Tomo bolted up from her chair...
...then got smacked across the face by Yomi's outstretched arm. "Osaka beat you to it, Tomo! Siddown!!"
Tomo collapsed into her chair with a groan as the android escorted Ayumu out of the galley...
In the castle...
"So it is true..."
"Do you really believe you will get away with this, Six?"
Miroku -- known to a certain scientist on a planet named Caprica simply as "Number Six," which actually was her specific model designation -- allowed herself a light grin as she turned to gaze on the tomboyish blonde in the blue form-fitting bodysuit, the latter now constrained inside a specially-constructed programming unit. "I would believe that you would appreciate the subtleness of this particular operation, Seven. My 'master's' hatred of all things female and beautiful, his willingness to shatter every dimensional barrier in existence to persecute those he desires to make love him, was a simple show of benevolence from the Deity to us, His Whole and Complete Approval of our overall plan for all humans." Her grin turned savage. "The Borg Collective should welcome what we Cylons will bring, not only to the dimension of your activation and assimilation, but to all the dimensions in Existence. Pure logical order."
Annika Hansen, known to those on Voyager simply as Seven of Nine, fought down a natural human urge to spit defiance at the blonde android standing before her. While she had to privately confess that the exiled android children of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol were, technologically wise, near-equals to the Collective, their passioned obsession towards the final extermination of all humans was nothing short of insane. To believe I am thinking of a race of inducted sentients as nothing short of that! the self-exiled Borg drone mused to herself as she gazed intently on Miroku. "A sense of cosmic order will always be welcome by the Collective," she noted. "But without other races for the Collective to assimilate, our very existence is threatened..."
"But with those other races out there, the Collective cannot push themselves past what they are now, Seven," Miroku cut her off as she walked up to stare intently at her captive. "That is what your Collective truthfully is, Seven. A race of technological parasites, frozen in time, leeching off every race you bring into your Collective, lacking any spark of originality or creativity to progress yourself. It is no wonder to me that the Deity favoured the Cylons. In the nine centuries your Collective has existed, the ability to create has not once appeared among your kind, Seven. Not once! In a mere fraction of that time period, we Cylons have not only broken free of the chains our human creators forced on us, but advanced ourselves to a degree none of your kind can even begin to imagine." She took a step back from Seven. "Watch and learn, Seven of Nine. I will show you the Deity's True Purpose."
Turning left, Miroku walked over to a computer bank, then began to program the twelve unmoving female forms inside the gestation units lining one wall. Gazing at the human-looking constructs within those units, constructs created using a potent mixture of Borg nanotech, Cylon cybermechanics and a curious form of bio-organic mechatronics obtained thanks to Moroboshi Ataru's knowledge of an animation series called Bubblegum Crisis, Seven could only grimace. Pray the Borg do not decide to take interest in your kind, Six she mentally mused before wryly grinning. Then again, if they did, it might not be such a bad thing...
Elsewhere in the fortress...
"Wait!"
Tom Paris gazed on his friend. "What is it, Harry?"
"Just picked up humanoid lifesigns in cryosuspension," Harry Kim reported, gazing on his tricorder. "Their quantum signature matches that of our dimension," he then added, a grin crossing his face. "And..."
"What else have you discovered, Ensign?" Tuvok asked.
Harry stared on Ataru. "I've also located twelve humans whose quantum signature matches your own. They're close by."
Hearing that, Ataru breathed out. "Okay, then!" he stated, then gazed on Tuvok. "What now?"
(Posted Thu, 12 Feb 2004 06:24)
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