Chapter Text
“It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world;
but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.”
― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
They stood outside the Queen Cell long after Picard was gone, taking Doctor Asha and all her secrets with him. They stood there, the boy’s sword dripping green blood on the floor, Hugh’s heart thundering in his chest. The Romulans lay cold and unmoving, scattered across Subsector 11 like fallen leaves. In this chamber of horrors, a few dead bodies weren’t so out of place.
Hugh still recoiled when the boy – Elnor, Picard had called him – sheathed his weapon, wiping off the blood on the inside of his robes.
It will take a few minutes to shut everything down and hide this room again. Can you hold them off that long? Hugh had asked when they’d left the Queen Cell.
I won't need a few minutes, Elnor had answered. It hadn’t been an exaggeration. Swift and fatal, the swing of his blade had taken out every last Romulan soldier within seconds. Not a drop of blood on Elnor’s face or clothes; not a hair out of place. It was obvious he’d done this before.
After all the commotion, the silence in the passageway was deafening. Hugh leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. He needed to feign innocence to cover Picard’s escape, and being caught in Subsector 11 with four dead Romulans and a sword-wielding warrior didn’t look very innocent.
“Let’s get out of here,” he muttered.
The smell of blood faded as they walked away, replaced by the suffocating moisture characteristic of Borg vessels. Elnor followed close behind, looking around for signs of trouble. Hugh took them up into the corridors, once full of drones, now blissfully empty. They needed to stay close, at least for a while, to make sure no one came back – but they couldn’t draw attention to Subsector 11, in case the Romulans decided to go poking around and accidentally discovered the Queen Cell.
“Where are we going?” Elnor asked, his gentle voice a jarring contrast with his deadly skills.
“To the center of the Artifact,” Hugh replied, “There’s a bridge that connects all the different parts of the Cube. We’ll be able to see everything from there.”
Elnor raised a hand to toss his hair behind his shoulder, and Hugh flinched at the movement.
“You’re afraid of me,” the young Romulan said, “You shouldn’t. I would never hurt a friend of Picard’s.”
Hugh nodded, although he still felt uneasy around the sword strapped to Elnor’s back. “Are you some sort of assassin? You’re obviously not Tal Shiar.”
“I am not an assassin,” Elnor snapped, as if offended by the very thought, “I am Qowat Milat. I am Picard’s qalankhkai.”
“I don’t know what that means, but if he trusts you then so do I.”
“I won’t give you reason to doubt me. Our primary teaching is the Way of Absolute Candor; I will never lie to you.”
They walked through an abandoned sector, dimly lit, with pipes sputtering and sparks flying along the walls. Darkness was Hugh’s life-long companion. He knew his way through and around it. “Stay close, we’re almost there,” he told Elnor.
They emerged on the other side and walked directly onto the bridge. It was long and narrow, spreading out in front of them like a metallic serpent. There was nothing left to do but wait. Hugh held on to the railing, steadying himself. It could be days before the Romulans found their dead soldiers. Hopefully by then Picard and Soji Asha would be at the other side of the Quadrant, safe and sound. All Hugh had to do now was make sure no one found the Queen Cell.
“You look frightened,” Elnor placed a hand on Hugh’s back, “Do you want to sit down with me?”
Perhaps he hadn’t expected the kindness– the compassion he’d abandoned all hope of receiving – but something in Hugh’s chest tightened at the boy’s words. “Yes, thank you,” he said, following Elnor to the center of the bridge, where they sat with their feet dangling over the edge.
“Picard told me about you. I know your story. You were Borg.”
Hugh closed his eyes. We are Borg, the Collective’s voice was still in his head, and after all this time he could almost live with it. Almost. “Yes, I was Borg.” He wanted to say it again, just to hear it, to believe it, “I was Borg.” I, was. I, me, a long time ago.
“Are you alright?”
There it was again; the genuine concern, the unreserved sympathy. Why do you care? Hugh thought, and he remembered a different voice, from years ago, and a name that felt like safety; Geordi – different voice, the same compassion.
“I’m alright,” he opened his eyes and looked ahead, “It’s been… an interesting day.”
Seeing Picard again, guiding him through the Artifact, finding Soji, leading them both to safety… It had all happened so quickly. He wasn’t even sure what was going on. Nothing made much sense, but that was to be expected when you were spinning in the orbit of people like Jean-Luc Picard. Elnor probably knew the feeling. Hugh turned his head towards him and found him staring.
“Can I touch these?” Elnor asked, pointing at Hugh’s remaining implants; on his cheek, above and below his eye.
The question caught him off guard. Before now, no one had ever wanted anything to do with the relics of his former self; the proof of his subjugation and, ultimately, his disgrace. But Elnor stared openly, with unconcealed wonder, and he leaned forward, as though aching to be closer. No one had ever wanted to be closer to Hugh before.
“Yes,” he answered, after a moment of stunned silence.
The boy’s finger landed on the implant just above Hugh’s eye. He traced it, the faintest of touches. His mouth fell open slightly. Hugh tensed as Elnor’s finger slid lower, over the second implant, then the third; reaching the scars lining his cheek, the cracks in his shattered face. He was suddenly embarrassed, mortified at being stared at. He looked at Elnor, pure and perfect – the delicate arch of his eyebrows, the smoothness of his golden skin – and saw himself in comparison, not quite complete, not quite natural.
Elnor’s hand lingered, as if unwilling to let go just yet. “Beautiful,” he said, almost to himself.
There was, just above Hugh’s heart, a pang of something he could not name, and his eyes stung with tears. He blinked them away. He had never been beautiful. Not until now.
He turned away, unable to bear Elnor’s awe. Slender fingers slipped over his jawline before moving away.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Elnor’s hand grazed his, and Hugh looked up into worried eyes. It was dizzying, as if they were standing on the very edge of a precipice; the bridge was a streak of metal and rust beneath them, and the rest of the world was just a blur of black and gray.
“Why did you come here?” Elnor tilted his head to the side. A lock of dark hair fell onto his shoulder. Hugh wanted to reach up and smooth out the crease between the boy’s brows, wipe away the frown from those handsome features.
“I guess I wanted to be useful,” he said, “the Project needed a director. I thought – I don’t know. Maybe I thought it would make me happy.”
Elnor’s Adam apple bobbed up and down. “But it doesn’t?”
A breath. Silence, interrupted only by the metallic wails of the Cube. Hugh looked away, beyond the bridge, down into the belly of the ship; the drop was seemingly endless. “No, it doesn’t.” he said it with certainty, through the guilt and shame.
No, it did not. He’d dreamed himself a hero, self-sacrificing and principled, with the same fearless passion he’d seen in Starfleet officers. He’d looked at himself in the mirror day after day; he’d stared at his misshapen, broken face – jaw set, eyes alight with determination – and he’d nodded to himself, yes, this is my purpose.
But the mirage had dissolved only a few days after he’d started his work here. Like wisps of smoke. Nothing left of his noble dream but its consequences: a lonely existence at the very heart of his worst nightmare. The low droning noises were a constant reminder of where he was. Years ago he’d promised himself he would never set foot in a place like this again.
“Then why do you stay here?” Elnor’s question was eerily well-timed. Hugh ignored the nausea in the pit of his stomach, reminding himself that this was different, that they were separate people; that they could not speak into each other’s minds.
“Because I care about the XBs,” he answered without hesitation. Yes, that much was true. He could leave any time he wanted to, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t abandon these people. He cared, so much. He just wished it didn’t weigh on him the way it did. That he could have a bed to call warm, a place to call home.
Elnor swung his legs back and forth in the air, making the bridge bounce slightly beneath them. “You are an XB,” he said, and his hand moved higher up, fingers gently brushing Hugh’s. “If you care for the others you should care for yourself.”
Hugh gave a mirthless smile. “It’s not the same,” he shook his head, although he’d noticed Elnor saying care for instead of care about.
Silence, once more. Long fingers reached up carefully, passing over a knuckle, stroking the back of Hugh’s hand. He swallowed heavily, closing his eyes, relishing the touch.
“You used to live somewhere like this?” Elnor asked. So much curiosity, so many questions, and Hugh couldn’t answer fast enough.
“Yes. For as long as I can remember.”
It was odd, the way everything spilled out of him. He usually didn’t like talking about this; very rarely allowed conversations to reach this point. But not now. Now he wanted to answer more than he wanted to forget. He remembered an old human idiom and imagined himself lassoing a Romulan moon, “because Elnor asked me for it”.
The boy was quiet. His palm slid over Hugh’s hand, his thumb drawing invisible circles over a pale wrist. Impossibly soft skin, cool to the touch – and Hugh saw the way Elnor’s eyes darted down, making sure the touch was welcome.
“I can only remember living in one place as well,” he said, “I was told that I had nowhere to go, and I listened, even though I wanted to leave. Until Picard came back for me, to take me with him. Now I find it harder and harder to listen. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do as I’m told again.”
There was no sadness to his words, no self-pity or anger. Just the fierce determination of a young heart, and a tentative promise, I’ll never do as I’m told again. Hugh drew a shaky breath. He was the same, and he knew it, he could see himself in the quiet resolution that had settled over Elnor’s face. He leaned in just a little bit closer, his shoulder bumping gently into the boy’s.
“I remember the first few weeks after…” Hugh choked on the words, unable to say them here, under this churning prison of steel. Some things came alive when he spoke them out loud, some things threatened to swallow him whole if he so much as mentioned them.
He trusted Elnor to understand. “I would do things simply because I wanted to,” he continued, “and for no other reason. There was a planet, somewhere in the Antridia System. I would stand outside for hours, just to feel the sun on my face. Wiggle my fingers and watch my shadow imitate me,” he smiled at the memory, gaze fixed on an indistinct point beneath the bridge. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elnor smile too.
“But lately,” Hugh added, smile fading, “I’ve been doing things because I have to, not because I want to.”
Candor, it seemed, was contagious. For some reason, hiding seemed absurd. Why would he possibly want to hide anything, when it felt like the spaces between his fingers were right where Elnor’s fit perfectly?
“What do you want to do now?” Elnor asked with infinite softness,
Hugh looked up once more into those dark eyes, so close, so unbearably close. He’d never known what a stranger was, never understood the notion – even now, after years of being alone in his own head, he struggled with it. They’d only just met, but as hard as he tried, Hugh couldn’t see Elnor as a stranger. Eyes locked, fingers intertwined, bodies leaning into each other ever so slowly… Hugh tried to speak, but he couldn’t even hear himself think over the pounding of his heart.
“I want to kiss you,” Elnor said, disarmingly honest. His gaze fell to Hugh’s mouth before he looked up again, “Do you want to kiss me too?”
Chest heaving, hands trembling, Hugh nodded. He wanted it more than anything – being closer to Elnor – he wanted it like he’d never wanted anything before.
The silence and stillness of the moment were overwhelming. And then it seemed to happen all at once: Hugh tipping his chin back, Elnor inclining his head, the tender collision, the brush of mouth against mouth. Eyes closing of their own accord, lips too timid to part. Hands reaching, desperate and gentle; touching, holding, feeling. Hugh’s palm against Elnor’s neck, Elnor’s hair falling onto Hugh’s cheek. I know you, I see you, I feel you. Mouths pressing just a little bit harder, just a little bit closer, I see you, I see you, I see you.
And then the inevitable retreat, the half-hearted separation, eyelids fluttering open, breathless wonder on both their faces. Hugh touched a finger to his mouth. Elnor’s smile was dazzling.
“I’ve never been kissed before,” he said, pointed ears blushing green.
“Neither have I,” Hugh whispered.
The sound of heavy footsteps on the bridge made them both turn: an XB that Hugh knew as Lorcan was walking towards them. She stopped a few feet away, eyes wide with surprise, and clasped her hands behind her back.
“Can you leave, please?” Elnor told Lorcan politely, “We want to kiss each other again but you’re making us uncomfortable.”
Hugh couldn’t contain the laugh that bubbled up out of him. There never was any malice or hostility to anything Elnor said, and the very concept of sarcasm was foreign to him – but what he thought and what he felt were constantly on his tongue. It was endearing. Right now the look on Lorcan’s face made it terribly amusing too.
“I’m sorry,” the XB said, and Hugh could’ve sworn her pallid face was turning red, “But it’s urgent.”
Hugh’s laughter died then, replaced by a frown, and he pushed himself to his feet. “What’s wrong?”
Lorcan slid her hand across her bald head. “It’s the Romulans. They’re furious. Narissa is looking for you everywhere.”
“Any idea why?” Hugh winced, knowing the answer.
“Something about Locutus and the girl. I think you should get out of here.”
Elnor stood up, hand already on his blade. Hugh shook his head. “There’s no need to worry. There’s nothing she can do without breaking the treaty.”
“I’m not sure that’ll stop her,” Lorcan placed her hands on Hugh’s shoulders, “I really think you should leave. Use the spatial trajector, don’t let her find you.”
Hugh patted the XB on the back, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, Lorcan. I’m not going anywhere. We may be in Romulan space but I’m still director of the Reclamation Project. Narissa can’t chase me off my own Cube.”
Lorcan looked unconvinced, but she nodded anyway.
A sharp cry made them all start. Coming from the right side of the bridge, five Romulan soldiers pointed their disruptors at them. Lorcan gasped. Hugh and Elnor exchanged a panicked look.
“Run,” Elnor breathed, and Hugh could still feel those soft lips on his, the way they had made his skin tingle. He watched Elnor draw his sword, the mesmerizing flicker of light on the blade. “Run,” Elnor repeated.
This time, Hugh listened. Grabbing Lorcan by the arm, he broke into a sprint away from the Romulans. Disruptor blasts followed them as they ran off the bridge and into the maze of interweaving corridors beyond. They had one advantage over the Romulans: their intimate knowledge of Borg ships. If they could make it past the power waveguide conduits, no one would ever be able to find them.
For a moment, Hugh almost forgot to inform Lorcan of his plan. It’s not like that anymore, she can only know what I’m thinking if I tell her. The nausea returned, as usual, and he ignored it, as always.
“Lorcan!” he called above the sound of disruptor fire, “Run through the conduits, past the distribution node!”
Legs and thighs aching with the effort, Hugh made himself run faster. He saw the node up ahead, the jungle of tubes and pipes feeling – for the first time in forever – like a safe haven. Almost there...
To his left, Lorcan tripped and fell. Hugh stumbled, stopped, and looked back to see more Romulan soldiers closing in on the fallen XB.
“No!” Hugh cried, “Let her go, she doesn’t know anything!”
A large Romulan seized Lorcan by the back of her collar, pulling her to her feet. The others circled Hugh, disruptors pointed at his chest.
“The Colonel wants to speak to you,” the soldier holding Lorcan spat. “You will follow us to Subsector 5.”
They were already too far from the bridge – it was a smudge of color in the distance. The characteristic green lighting in this sector of the Artifact was sickening, casting threatening shadows around them. With one last glance at the far-away bridge, Hugh followed the Romulans into the heart of the Cube.