The Borg Queen
From Star Trek: Theurgy Wiki
|Name:||Evoras, before assimilation|
|Position:||Formerly Chief Tactical Officer,|
USS Ark Royal
|Height:||5ft 9in / 1.75m|
|Weight:||140lbs / 64kg|
|Hair:||Formerly a poorly-maintained ebony bob|
|Eye color:||Formerly Glacial Blue|
|Played by:||Aya Shalkar|
|Expanding the Collective|
(Before assimilation: Bonsai
|2310-2316 Trilan Seminary|
2339-2340 Starfleet Bootcamp
|2340-2364 Crewman to Chief Petty Officer, USS Minsk|
Tactical Officer, USS Ark Royal
Before she became the Borg Queen, Lieutenant Evoras was the Chief Tactical Officer of the USS Ark Royal in January of 2381. The USS Ark Royal was one of the ships that were destroyed in the Azure Nebula, when half of Task Force Archeron encountered the Borg. She was assimilated in that battle, and was later randomly picked by the Royal Protocol, becoming the new platform for the Borg Queen.
Her fate was interlinked with that of T'Less, another Vulcan that was supposed to have served on the Ark Royal, but a Butterfly Effect made Evoras and T'Less switch places in the timeline where the Theurgy led the opposition against the parasites that compromised Starfleet Command in the end of the 24th century. In another timeline, Evoras would have ended up on the USS Theurgy instead.
The Borg Queen was destroyed along with the cube she was on in the Battle of the Apertures.
Conversation between Evoras and Telen, Trilan, 2309
"Evoras, you have been warned not to climb those cliffs."
"I take my beacon with me. The township sensor net would detect a fall and beam me to safety."
"And if there is a failure?"
The Vulcan girl stayed quiet for a moment. When she spoke again, there was less certainty. "There is an auxiliary."
"Total power loss. Stellar flare."
"I would likely survive-"
"And a bad fall, tumbling, upside down by the time you got to the base?"
Silence. Hypothetical this conversation may have been, but it was still plausible.
"I am careful." Certainty once more. "I know my limits, and how fast they change."
"Very well. Never forget."
Conversation outside a Trilan monastery, 2316
The colossal stone arch soared overhead, marking the entrance to the mountain pass in which the Kolinahr retreat lay. It had been hewn by hand with almost-perfect precision, a monument to minimalism and simplicity. It imposed itself on the landscape, but without overpowering it; the arch simply was. It was late morning, and the high sunlight blocked by the massive stones lent them an almost sinister air, making the edifice appear darker than it actually was. Evoras looked with trepidation along the rocky path.
"Go on, child. The monastery staff will take care of you."
"But mother, won't they find out-"
Telen nodded. "Yes. But as long as you listen well, and behave, and show them that you have simply found your own way of controlling yourself, they will let you be. You will be trained regardless."
Sitek, her father, laid a hand on her shoulder. "'Infinite diversity in infinite combination'. They know the maxim better than anyone. Do not be afraid." He glanced at the sky. "And do not tarry. We will be here when you complete your journey."
Conversation between Evoras and Sreilen, near Shi'Phehr, Trilan, 2339
"I wouldn't have thought a scholar of Surak would have understood..."
"Evoras, that is precisely what I study to understand."
The pair had taken a meandering path through the Avori hills, playing the subtle and delicate game common among youthful humanoids the galaxy over. Theirs was simply a quieter version of it. Never one to sit still, Evoras had insisted that if Sreilen were going to quiz her system of logic, he could do it on a constitutional rather than cooped up in a tea room.
For tea, she had brought a flask.
"There. The reason I brought you here."
Beneath the peak on which they stood, the range descended to the shores of the Vol sea. It was a gargantuan impact lake, formed a scant few million years after the planet's formation, and held an ecosystem held quite separate from its surroundings by the crater wall.
"It is a... very large crater," Sreilen allowed.
Evoras sat with a sigh, rooting through her pack. "And how does it make you feel?"
She patted the ground next to her. "There's no one around, Sir Scholar of Surak. Be frank."
"I feel that it is a crater lake." Nevertheless, he sat, and gratefully took the steaming cup she handed him.
"No. It is filled with life separate from the rest of this whole world. Seeded millions of years ago by the slimmest of astronomical chances. And we can witness it now. I come here infrequently, when I want to feel connected to things."
"You visited the human quarter recently."
"And, of course, their waxing poetic rubbed off on me." Evoras didn't smile, but her eyes were alight. Sreilen gave a subtle tip of the head, some miniscule change in his body language indicating his own private amusement. It faded. "Your application was rejected?"
Evoras sighed. "It was. I plan to enlist instead."
"You're qualified enough that you-"
"I am going to go whatever way I can. Wanting to hold a commission is a mere illogical desire, quite irrelevant to joining the Fleet."
"I am... grateful the galaxy is a smaller place than it used to be. I will visit."
"Now who's waxing poetic?"
Conversation between Chief Petty Officer Evoras and Cadet, Kuiper Belt Firing Range, 2362
"Cadet Negev, if you do not pay attention, I will have you loaded into the next casing."
The young human looked at her, uncertain. He was never sure when this particular Vulcan NCO was joking. "I was just-"
"You were engaging in a tiresome - and, judging by the Cadet's expression, unwelcome - courtship attempt when you are supposed to be learning about how to ensure these weapons are stored in such a way as to avoid their premature detonation in the rack." Her gaze switched to one of the more attentive cadets in the front row of the huddle in the Minsk's magazine. "How many loaded casings are usually stored in the weapons bay of a Constitution-refit vessel like this one?"
"And the total quantity of antimatter therein?"
"One hundred ninety-two kilogrammes."
"With an annihilation yield of.."
The cadet ran through some mental calculations for a second or two. Or perhaps remembering the information by rote. "Seven thousand six hundred and eighty megatonnes. Give or take."
"Perhaps Mister Negev would care to explain why he thinks it would be acceptable to risk all of that going up? Your shields wouldn't save you. No structural integrity field yet built could contain it. All hands lost, one hundred percent probability. Not to mention the risk to any nearby shipping. Perhaps it could be an accident on the way out of Space Dock? It would be the biggest disaster since Praxis."
"Very well. As I was saying..."
Conversation between Evoras and Sreilen, near San Francisco, 2364
The skies were clear over Scarpet Peak, small-craft traffic flitting black against the blue between San Francisco and the facilities in orbit. Evoras settled a little closer against the warm form of Sreilen as they looked north towards the bay. Once again, he had indulged her need to be mobile rather than static by coming out here, even though she knew he would have preferred shelter from the summer sun. The heat wasn't so much an issue for him, but he far preferred drier climes to the humid coastal air near Starfleet Headquarters.
"How did you go from philosophy to xenobiology in the time it took me to teach one semester in the Kuiper belt?"
"Academia is its own reward, Evoras. Though it is interesting to see how similar our differences can be under it all." A brief pause, in which his arm drew tighter around her waist as she leaned back against him. "Also, I found myself bored without diversion while you performed your gravely important duty teaching children to listen."
Evoras felt one eyebrow rise ever so slowly. Sreilen's sarcasm was infrequent, and carefully deployed so as to disguise quite which part was supposed to be the punchline. It was her favourite word game to play. She slipped a hand along his arm to tangle their fingers together. Despite the uncomfortable weather, he seemed to radiate contentment. A satisfied smile tugged fleetingly at the corners of her mouth.
"Sreilen, what would your parents say? You joke like a human now."
He paused, and the subtle, almost imperceptible way his posture stiffened told her that he was scrambling to find a way to banter back. Her smile settled in earnest.
"Another point to me. You'll have to come and meet me on shore leave next time."
"You're being moved away?"
"I requested shipborne assignment. They put me on the Excalibur. Neutral Zone patrol."
"I hope your tour is uneventful."
"What is the worst that could happen?"
Aboard USS Excalibur NCC-26517, border of Romulan Neutral Zone, 2366
"Captain!" called the ensign at the Science station. "Another tachyon trace, approaching at warp... three point six."
[Excalibur, you were warned not to cross the demarkation-]
"As I told you already," Captain Smutko spat, "we did not cross the line, and we were responding to a Romulan freighter in apparent distress."
[Your assistance was both unnecessary and unwelcome. But yet again, we see the Federation's disregard for the very treaty they insisted on having signed...]
"Oh, forget you. Ops, close channel."
Evoras shared a look with Lieutenant Commander zh'Vrella. The Vulcan shook her head. The Andorian looked back towards the centre seat and cleared her throat. "Three cloaked warbirds and a fourth on the way is an unwinnable fight, sir. Recommend retreat, or reinforcement."
"It's a bluff."
Smutko and zh'Vrella both looked at Evoras, though with wildly different expressions.
"Chief-" the CTO began to reprimand, before the Captain interrupted.
"The other three traces bear little resemblance to the first, sirs-"
"They would hardly have a single engine configuration in their entire fleet-" zh'Vrella started in, before Evoras ploughed on.
"- and they came from an almost identical vector to the approach of the hailing vessel. I posit that they are decoy probes launched by a single warbird with the intent to intimidate us and test our defence of the Neutral Zone. Sirs."
Smutko swivelled to face the fore again, pinching his lower lip while he thought. Evoras ignored the look the CTO was giving her for speaking out of turn. Science called out again. "Fourth contact now in formation with the others."
"Charge the deflector," the captain barked. "Anti-proton saturation of that whole formation, highest output you can. I want to see what's hiding there."
"Uh, aye sir. Working now."
A muscle in Evoras' jaw ticked as she waited for the sensor return to update. After what seemed an age, she was vindicated. The hazy silhouette of a D'Deridex and three tiny probes - the latter of which weren't even cloaked. Just at such a distance and small enough to fool their algorithms into interpreting their signature as another cloaked ship.
"Ops. Hail the Hheirant again."
"No response, sir."
Languidly, with exaggerated nonchalance, the Hheirant's signature yawed on the spot and peeled away, back into the depths of Romulan territory. The probes, their ruse discovered, were abandoned.
"Good work, Tactical. All hands, stand down Yellow Alert."
Citation in Starfleet Personnel file, dated May 2369
"Senior Chief Petty Officer Evoras, in light of your extended commitment to Starfleet, the Admiralty Board wish to award you with the following citation: Thirty Years' Long Service and undetected crime, and commend you for your Good Conduct.
"And in light of your contributions to the Fleet and by the recommendations of your peers and superiors, you are also hereby elevated to the rank of Lieutenant (junior grade), with all of the privileges and responsibilities implied..."
Raid-in-force on Dominion logistics, 2373
"Tactical, why aren't you firing?"
"Because they're about to pass over us, sir," Evoras responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, to the Tellarite in the centre seat. The Captain sputtered, the slow red strobe of the alert lights dyeing his features a lurid scarlet. It clashed horribly with the puce flush her words had provoked. Commander Tallarn was in sickbay, having been injured a few minutes prior by an overloaded power conduit.
"Ks- I ordered you to fire on those fighters, Lieutenant!"
"And I will, sir, when I can guarantee a kill-shot." She glanced down at her console, watching the trio of Dominion attack craft sliding into the dorsal arcs of the Repulse's phaser arrays, turning in to make a high pass against the Excelsior class cruiser. Deftly, she locked up all three ships, focusing the impact points to overwhelm the shields on the little vessels and perforate them stem to stern, now that she had a larger number of emitters to use. The debris cloud from their destruction passed silently by their port quarter. "Fighter wing down. Incoming warp signature-"
The hulking, swept-back silhouette of a Dominion battlecruiser slammed into sublight a few million kilometres away, weapon batteries powered up and torpedo doors opening. Predictably enough, threatening the regional ketracel-white production facility had produced a robust reaction from the invading forces. The chatter and call-outs on the venerable cruiser's bridge increased in volume and pitch.
"Re-training weapon locks, sir. Dominion battleship is on attack vector; coming about. 'Care package' dropped for ketracel factory - one minute to detonation. Torpedo volley inbound - all hands, brace for impact." The deck shuddered and heaved as new alarms screamed about collapsing shield sectors and saucer hull breaches. Amid the chaos, Evoras somehow found Captain Gannek's eye. "Permission to engage in a... what's the Tellarite expression? A frank exchange of views, sir."
"By all means, Lieutenant. Please convey our thorough rebuttal. Damage report!" he added to Ops.
The ghost of what might have been a smirk flashed across the youthful Vulcan's face as her hands flitted across her panel, and the forward battery of the Repulse made a fairly convincing argument in return, written in ripping phaser volleys and a sustained photon torpedo bombardment. Behind them, more warp-exit flashes heralded the arrival of the rest of the Starfleet flotilla.
Convoy Escort, 2375
Evoras stalked through the corridors of the stricken UHS ibn-Sina, phaser rifle raised and ready to fire. Behind her, three more members of the Repulse's crew followed, similarly armed, one of several teams inserted to attempt to rescue the last survivors. The smoke stung her eyes and tickled her throat, and the heavy cupric smell of blood in the air made her want to gag, but she pressed on. Not for the first time today, she cursed the strong moral fibre possessed by her husband that had pressed him to volunteer as a relief medic in the effort against the Dominion. He had taken a role as trauma surgeon on this exact hospital ship two months ago. And now his decision might have killed him.
For once they had been stationed close together - the Repulse was even assigned to escort the ibn-Sina's convoy through a contested sector - but the Jem'Hadar had detected them despite their best efforts. And the Vorta had decided that it would make a useful propaganda victory, and ordered the attack. No - the butchering.
They had settled for merely destroying the supply tenders. The hospital ships, though? Those, they had crippled and boarded. Those, they put to the sword.
The Repulse took a savage beating in defence of the convoy, but Evoras would have spent every torpedo casing and every spare phaser capacitor of every ship she could beg, borrow, or commandeer to do it if she could. But they had to keep their shields up until the last Jem'Hadar ships were destroyed or withdrew - no beaming anyone on or off the ibn-Sina.
But now, she was coming for her mate.
Up ahead, in one of the sprawling wards amidships in the Olympic-class ship, the sound of gunfire echoed towards them. A scream, cut short. The Repulse team quickened their pace. Evoras rounded a corner and found herself in a twelve-bed recovery ward. Most of them were filled with fresh, bloody corpses but for the last one furthest from the door.
Sreilen stood before it, defending his last patient with a laser scalpel in hand, pointing it at the Jem'Hadar Second who was casually advancing with his polaron carbine held at lazy rest. Evoras took aim. She squeezed the firing stud-
-and the beam carved a burning line across the bulkhead as she was tackled by another Jem'Hadar who had been guarding the door. A mailed fist slammed into her gut as they rolled, driving the air from her lungs before she kicked the invader off her. Swaying back just in time to avoid decapitation by kar'takin, the blade instead took the tip of her left ear off.
She heard the carbine discharge at the other end of the ward. She heard Sreilen yell.
Phaser blasts silhouetted the Jem'Hadar trying to kill her, the scaly clone keeling over at her feet. More searing orange beams stabbed out down the room to end the Second. Still unable to draw a breath to loose the scream building inside her, Evoras stumbled down the aisle, hauling herself along by grabbing onto the ends of the beds heedless of their macabre occupants.
She came to her knees next to the curled-up form of Sreilen - still alive, gutshot, the organs of his abdomen scrambled by the sadistic engineering of the Dominion rifle.
"Sreilen," she whispered. "Sreilen, no."
His hand came up, but batted hers away when she tried to take it. Instead, he reached towards her face. She didn't realise what he was doing until it had begun. Chin, cheek, brow - it was the quickest, roughest meld he had ever bade her join. She felt his pain. His numbness. His fear.
And then everything. He was with her. She thought her head might explode, but there was room enough for his katra in the end. Sanctuary. Safe from his torment. Safe in her charge.
As his empty body died, she found her voice to scream.
Overall it took six years of study and mediation in isolation with the monks for Evoras to regain enough control over her emotions for her to feel comfortable enough to leave and continue her life, despite not being fully in control of them just yet. She decided that the best way for her to test what she had learned was to fully return to her old life and so reenlisted in Starfleet, returning to her previous rank. However the Repulse was now off exploring the Gamma Quadrant so she was instead assigned to the USS Ark Royal, a Sovreign-class ship. The ship soon assigned to Task Force Archeron, under the command of Admiral Sankolov.
Due to the circumstances surrounding the USS Theurgy’s run from Starfleet, Evoras has been struggling with the continually erratic nature of life as a Starfleet officer. Most, if not all, of the members of the Ark Royal had been shown the evidence of the Theurgy´s defection to the Romulans and, as Evoras did not enjoy the prospect of a drawn-out persecution of the traitorous captain and the starship with the A.I. computer. She had counted on returning to Vulcan should her limited emotional control fail her, yet that same lack of option - to leave her commissioning - became both a source of fear and strength for her, knowing she now had no choice but to either strengthen her controls or lose them completely, retrogressing again to the near feral state she'd been in when she'd originally returned to Vulcan all those years ago.
Two months into their hunt for the Theurgy, she had, fortunately or otherwise, been on the bridge during a confrontation with the rogue ship. The Theurgy had been followed by a trio of ships, the Defiant-class USS San Paulo, the Intrepid-class USS Bellerophon and the Rigel-class USS Akagi, closely followed by the Ark Royal. When the battle began in earnest, the Chief Tactical Officer on the Ark Royal was seriously injured and later died. With no one else to assume his duties, Evoras had been forcibly volunteered. Having never considered Tactical as a possible career, she learned over the course of the few minutes of the fighting that she had an aptitude for it, effectively boxing in the Theurgy for several minutes, until the Theurgy somehow repaired its warp engines and fled anew. With only seconds to spare before Evoras would have destroyed the ship, the Theurgy warped away. Regardless, as a result of her actions, Evoras was assigned as the new Chief Tactical Officer on the Ark Royal.
After being appointed to her new position Evoras again found herself thinking back to her old Academy instructor, her Vulcan tactical training and her new position and yet again the irony was not lost on her. It was while contemplating those things that she found herself looking up her own qualifications in the ship's database, after all it was highly illogical for her Captain to assign her to the Chief Tactical Officer position just because she had managed to not get them killed in the heat of the moment therefore logic dictated that there was something in there that influenced the Captain's decision and came across something that truly surprised her.
Included in her file was her test results of the Kobayashi Maru, something she had never bothered to look at as she saw no logical reason to do so at the time and was shocked to discover that her final result was in the top tier of Academy history. Along with her results was a note from her former instructor which stated that her talent and instinct to function and react in such an emergency gave her vast potential as a tactical officer should she choose to take that path in the future. With that information her old instructor's insistence finally made much more sense as well. The words of her former instructor as well as her results gave Evoras more confidence in herself when it came to her fulfilling her new role, something she needed even if she would never admit it.
Given her new position, Evoras started studying starship battle tactics and strategies during her free time, ranging from reading about them, watching archived videos of previous battles and lectures stored in the ship's databases as well as numerous sessions on the holodeck. She also took the time to read up on all the technical specifications of most Starfleet and allied ships so that she would know exactly where to hit them to deal the most damage in the quickest time without destroying them. Her key interest was, of course the USS Theurgy, since she wished to end the drawn-out hunt for the ship, and still return to Vulcan one day.
Unfortunately, the USS Ark Royal was one of the ships that were destroyed in the Azure Nebula, when half of Task Force Archeron encountered the Borg. The Ark Royal was destroyed, but only after Evoras was assimilated. Her body was spaced from the bridge of the Sovereign-class ship, drifted in the debris field for a couple of hours, before the assmiliation process and the regenerative nanoprobes in her body took over. At this point, she was no longer herself - just another part of the Collective.
She was then chosen by the Royal Protocol, becoming the new platform for the Borg Queen.
Evoras was content to take a more long-term and patient view on her career - a side-effect of her partnership with Sreilen. Given how long her species tended to live, she wasn't particularly concerned that she had more or less plateaued at lieutenant, reasoning that she had plenty of time to pursue higher ambitions... resolution of the Theurgy's mission pending.
Evoras cut a slight figure; compact but feminine. She enjoyed the high relative physical strength endemic to her species and was careful to maintain her fitness several times per week when off-duty. Her pale olive skin and light eyes contrasted with her dark hair, which she was forever brushing away from her face - despite the logical solution being to tie it back or cut it differently. She was mostly-unscarred but for missing the very tip of her left ear - a souvenir of the Dominion War. As it didn't affect her aural acuity, she never bothered to have it repaired; merely healed.
Off-duty, she tended to wear comfortable slacks and vests, though she kept a wardrobe of more formal robes for the few special occasions that life on the Theurgy afforded. However, she preferred her Starfleet-issue dress uniform for any events that mandated a dress code.
Evoras carried her mate's katra - for want of a better word, his soul. With it, she gained access to all of his memories and knowledge, and to a certain degree his personality lived on in her mind. The effect was similar to that of a Trill hosting a symbiont, though she didn't inherit any of Sreilen's professional abilities. It was more akin to owning a (comprehensive) textbook on a subject without having learned the accompanying skillset.
When she was assimilated, however, Sreilen's katra didn't survive.