Data stood in engineering clutching his arm. He reeled at the sight of a thin trickle of blood that seeped from between his fingers and had no idea what to make of this new sensation that had him in thrall. He had never felt this... pain before. He was not designed for this. He should not be feeling these sensations, be experiencing these emotions. It was painful, he was confused, but it was exciting at the same time.

"Then tear the skin from your limb as if it were a defective circuit. Go ahead Data, we won't stop you. Do it. Don't be tempted by flesh," the Borg Queen taunted him. He dug his fingers into the new skin on his arm in a futile maneuver to try to rid himself of this feeling. She watched him smugly. He was weak, she knew it. She had decided to change her tactics, to pull him in with promises to stop the pain, to give him pleasure he had rarely experienced. She turned to face him directly, to assert her control over him, when the sound came.

A sound, like a chime of some sort, echoed throughout engineering. The Queen snapped her head around, trying to discern the direction it was coming from. The sound chimed again. Data looked around, confused. Some of the Borg working on trying to break his encryption codes stopped what they were doing, and looked as though they were on an alert status. The chime came again and again, at regular intervals, as though to announce someone's arrival.

"No, it can't be," the Queen hissed. There was a flash of light from behind the warp core. One figure stepped from behind into the open, one figure stayed in the background, covering itself in shadows. The Queen looked almost frightened, Data observed. The woman came forward stepping slowly towards the Queen. Data now noticed the strange nature of this person. Her skin was a dull grey color, similar to that of the Borg. Protruding upwards thought the skin of her forehead were five sharpened steel rods, arranged symmetrically in a fan shape. She wore a corset that appeared to be leather. She also wore opera-length gloves and thigh-high boots, which, Data noticed, appeared to be sewn to her skin, almost like this was her skin, and there was nothing underneath. The heels on the boots looked painful to walk in, but this being moved gracefully in them. Her lips were deep red and wet, as though her lips bled eternally.

He looked at the Queen, who was gaining her composure. She straightened her posture, facing this creature with utmost confidence. "Abigor, you have decided to visit after all this time. How goes the war?"

Abigor ignored the Queen, instead walking to Data and circling him, giving him appraising looks. A slight smile crept to her face. Data noticed a scent he deducted as vanilla, after analyzing it's components. There was something else there, too, like the faint odor of rot.

She finally broke her orbit of Data, this time strutting up to the Queen. "The war on chaos does not fare as well as it should, sister. That is the reason for my calling upon you."

"But I have served Leviathan as I should, I have served Hell's purpose."

"Not quite. The time has come for a new Messiah. You have not been living up to your side of the bargain. And," Abigor said as she gestured to Data's right arm, "you have tried to turn order into chaos. This is unacceptable."

"But I needed him to assimilate this vessel," the Queen shot back. Data felt a pang of hurt and sadness. She seemed so interested in him, and even though he knew this was the truth, he thought she might have had some special purpose for him.

As Abigor turned to fully face the Queen, Data noticed two rows of long, sharp metal spikes imbedded in her skin, flanking either side of her spine from her neck down to her buttocks. This juxtaposition of metal and flesh intrigued him. This being intrigued him. He decided to speak up.

"Ahh-hmm." He cleared his throat to get their attention. They paid him no mind, and continued their controlled argument. "Excuse me," he tried again. This time it brought a glare from the Queen, and a grin from Abigor. "I do not wish to interrupt, but I am curious. What is taking place here?"

"Never mind, Data," the Queen snapped.

Abigor jumped in. "Oh, I think the Messiah deserves and explanation." Data was confused.

"Messiah?" he questioned, feeling a bit uncomfortable that this word should be applied to him.

"That will be explained in time. I am a Cenobite, a soldier in Hell's war on the chaos of flesh. She..." she motioned to the Queen, "...is also a soldier of this war. A *mortal* soldier. "

Data was even more confused. He glanced at the Queen, who looked so angry she could burst. He then noticed one of the Borg broke ranks and was coming at good pace behind Abigor. From the upper reaches of engineering, a chain sharply descended towards the Borg. Data was fast enough to see that a large barbed hook was attached to the end of this chain. It contacted the Borg in the back of the neck, yanking it upwards about one meter and snapping it's spinal column. It was then released and fell to the floor, a gaping hole at the base if it's skull. Above the Borg dangled the hook, trailing a bloody collection of wires and organic spinal material.

"As I was saying, Data, before we were interrupted, We have come to flush out the old, and bring in the new." Abigor said this with an obvious pleasure. "You see, Messiah, she once had one of these." She produced a small box, holding it out in the palm of her hand for Data's perusal. "Her people were chaotic, directionless. They had mastered the art of melding metal and flesh, but it had no purpose." Beaming with pride, she added, "I gave them purpose."

She handed the box to Data. A bit suspiciously, he reached out and took the box from Abigor's hand. He gingerly ran his fingers over it's black lacquer and gold leaf.

"Then you are responsible for the Borg, for them assimilating millions," Data accused. He grew even more wary of the Cenobite. As his suspicions raised, he found himself more attracted to the box, as if he had a need to look at it, to touch it.

"Data, don't touch it," the Borg Queen snapped at him, an attempt to win him back to her side. "It's evil."

He couldn't resist this box. It felt cool to the touch. He *felt* it! It was wonderful. He felt a tingling sensation run through his golden skin, though all parts of him except the new organic skin she had given him. Abigor approached him; he felt her nearing. There was a vibration in his skin with every step she took. She weakened, his knees bucked for the sensations assaulting him. He slumped down before her, onto his knees. She stood before him, running her fingers though his hair. The motion shot a spasm of pleasure through him.

"Come with us. I can make you feel, Data, even more than you feel now. You will show us the way to true order."

"Even more? Order?" his mind questioned. How would this be possible? He looked up from his fugue, and became slightly aware of the Borg drones, six of them, silently walking up behind Abigor, their prosthetic arms raised in a posture of attack. Abigor turned around, and again, the chains quickly made an appearance. There were much more of them this time, not stopping until their hooks had crucified every Borg, ripping skin from their bodies, tearing the artificial covering from them, boring into their eyes, natural and synthetic. It seemed, Data noticed, that some of them even screamed. Parts of their bodies fell to the floor as the rest were whisked away, not to be seen again.

Abigor again turned to Data. "I can give you so much more, give you pleasure no mortal could stand. And exquisite pain, the likes of which this universe could never duplicate." She brushed her gloved hand over Data's cheek. He stared at her, completely enraptured by her presence. He had seen other species that modified or scarred their bodies for ritual or fashion. But this creature wore her scars like an announcement for the glories of Hell. He had never encountered another being like her, and he was afraid, he never would again.

"I have had enough!" the Queen shouted. She began to walk to Abigor, hand outstretched to pull her away from the android. At that moment, another chain sprouted from air and burst through the Queen's hand. The hook caught the carpeting on the floor, and left the Queen trapped in one spot.

Abigor turned her attention away from Data and moved to the Queen. "We have had enough of you," she snapped briskly. "You are not bringing order to the universe, you are not opening the gateway so that Hell may pass though. You will not have a gloried place in Leviathan's ranks, and you will never learn the secrets of true order. However, I am prepared to show you true pain."

The hooks rained down then, dozens of them. They lifted the Queen's head from her cybernetic body. They tore into her flesh, peeling it from her muscles, and then, peeling her muscles from her metallic skull. One hook dangled impaling one eye, which had, too, been artificial. She did not bleed, as she had no reason for blood anymore. Her head stripped down to bare metal, the hooks drilled into the skull, pulling intricate circuits and chips from deep inside. The hooks also worked on her Borg body, unraveling it piece by piece, until there was nothing left but metal chunks and artificial leather on the floor. The remainder of her skull suddenly exploded, torn apart by the force of the chains.

The Borg around them began to sputter and spark. They stumbled over themselves, suddenly without any direction, any orders to follow, any subspace signal reaching deep into their brains. They all collapsed, death coming upon them as energy ceased to be transmitted through their bodies.

The sight of the forty-odd Borg shorting out and apparently dying was enough to drive Data out of his rapture. He stood up, staring at the pieces of the Borg Queen that had fallen at his feet.

"I have solved your problem, Data," said Abigor, a broad smile on her face. Her black eyes positively sparkled with energy, the blood on her lips a deeper shade than ever. "Now, come with us and take your place among Leviathan's gloried soldiers."

An image of what Hell was like according to five hundred and seventeen different cultures flashed through Data's mind. He remembered the fact that she was responsible for the Borg. He then thought of the ship, his cat, his crewmates, and especially Captain Picard.

"I cannot go with you," he told her flatly.

"But you must, you are the Messiah," replied Abigor, her tone a bit less cordial. "You must help us. We need you to build new and better configurations into Hell." She stepped up to him and squarely looked him in the eye. "We will not take 'no' for an answer."

"I simply cannot. I have duties to perform here. And I am opposed to the fact that you had created the Borg." Data's manner was a bit more apologetic. "I am appreciative as to what you have done here. You have saved the Enterprise, and the future as well, and, as tempting as your offer is..." Data absently rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, savoring the feeling, "...I simply cannot go with you."

"We were afraid you would say that," spoke a voice that echoed around engineering. If Data had a bladder, it would have emptied. The second figure stepped from the shadows behind the warp core, the figure that never revealed itself before. This creature was apparently male, it's skin was also a dull grey with a blue undertone. His head had been carved with a series of symmetrical intersecting lines, and at each crossing was a nail driven into his flesh. He was much more clothed than his female counterpart. His body was covered with leather, from the high collar of the bodice to the long skirt that hid his feet. His only visible skin was the openings in his chest where several slices of flesh had been carved off, exposing his muscle, and left to hang.

Abigor stepped out of his way, clearing a path to Data. The male walked up to him slowly, his gait carried with it a regal bearing. Abigor, although having a presence about her as well, walked wearing her sexuality on her bloodied sleeve. This Cenobite certainly did not.

"You will come with us, or I will kill everyone on this vessel, starting with your captain," the Cenobite said. "You have seen our power. We are not bluffing."

Data started to weigh his options. He wondered if he could make it to the plasma coolant tanks before one of their trained hooks sunk into him.

Both Cenobites turned to look behind them at the tank. "You will not reach the tank in time," said the male Cenobite, his black eyes narrowing.

His options seemed limited at this point. The Cenobite obviously knew what he was thinking, and there was no point in making pretenses anymore. He decided to make a dash for the door to engineering in the hope that now that the Borg Queen was dead, the force field she had generated would no longer be standing. He moved so quickly that he was a blur, but a hook found him anyway, fastening to the new flesh on his arm. It pulled him backward with a force even he could not resist. Oddly enough, he felt no pain this time, as though the roles of the skin and his bioplast sheeting had been switched.

"Data, you must come with us," Abigor said to him, with an almost caring tone in her voice. "You have run out of options."

"Indeed," Data agreed.

Back on the bridge, Captain Picard was assessing the situation. He, Commander Worf, and Lieutenant Hawk had been out on the hull of the ship intent on stopping the Borg from building an interplexing beacon out of their deflector dish when something strange had happened. All of the Borg had begun to spasm and writhe. They then loosened from the hull and drifted out into space. Picard had been taken aback, as he did not hear the Borg in his head anymore. After a brief discussion, they went to work on dismantling the beacon constructed so far. The three men then made the long trip back to the airlock.

"Dr. Crusher, report," he asked the doctor.

"Captain, I have been getting reports that Borg all over the ship are just... collapsing. They are dying, sir. No one knows what is happening."

"Well," the Captain said, making his decision, "we need to take crews down into the Borg-infested decks. I will go to engineering to find out exactly what is going on. Mr. Worf, assemble a team and go to deck eleven. Doctor, please accompany Mr. Worf. See if you can determine a cause for these Borg deaths."

Captain Picard, ever so bold, marched down to engineering accompanied only by a phaser. The doors opened easily, much to his surprise. He made his way to the warp core, carefully stepping over the Borg corpses littering the way. The sight he then saw made his jaw drop.

There were chains hanging from every point in the room. Data stood in the middle, flanked by two creatures that could, at least, only be described as strange.

"Captain, I am glad to see you," Data said.

"Data, what the hell is going on here?" Picard was immediately disturbed by these creatures. He had seen strange species before, but these two oozed malevolence. He wanted to know what Data was doing with them.

"Captain, I cannot explain right now. I have released computer control back to you, as all of the Borg are dead and no longer pose a threat. However," he said with a touch of sadness, "I must leave now."

"Data, I..."

"I must leave. I wish I could explain. Perhaps we will meet again in the future." Data turned to the two creatures.

Picard watched as the three began to walk behind the warp core. The female creature turned around suddenly, and tossed something in Picard's direction. There was a flash of light, and the three were gone, as were the chains and Borg remainders on the floor. He bent and picked up the remaining object in front of him. It was a wooden box, painted in black lacquer and gold leaf.

Back in the twenty-forth century, Picard sat in his quarters thinking over the events of the past few weeks. He had not expected to be reprimanded by Starfleet for disobeying orders, and he was correct. Why, he had saved Humanity (again), so there would be no court-martial. He felt especially sad about the loss of Data. He was stunned that Data would choose to go with the two strange beings in engineering, and without an explanation. Picard walked over to his table and picked up the box left by the female creature. Scans of the box concluded that it was no more than mahogany wood, steel, and paint. The designs on the six surfaces on the box did not match anything in the Federation database. He moved his hands over the smooth surfaces, sliding his fingers over an intricately painted circle on what seemed to be the main design. To his surprise, the box began to move. Part of the box slid upwards, pivoting at the main circle. Picard pushed on the circle, rotating the face of the box at a forty-five degree angle. He then heard the sound.

A chime sounded throughout his quarters, the sound of an arrival, he briefly thought. The chime sounded again. The lights flickered and then died.

"Picard to security," he called, sensing danger. No one heard him. He saw a flash of light reflected on the wall in front of him. He spun around to see...

"Data?" He wasn't sure at this point. Data had been... altered.

Data grinned at him with teeth that had been filed into points. His eyes, no longer golden, but black, were held open with a small hook in each eyelid attached to a wire that ran to the back of his head. His uniform had been replaced with a leather bodysuit, covering him from neck to toe. There was a diamond-shaped opening in the chest of the suit, revealing Data's skin. A flap of skin had been removed, his metal endoskeleton showing though. A thin gold liquid seeped from the cut, Data's chemical nutrients, "blood" spilling eternally from him.

"Captain..." Data said, his voice cold enough to freeze Picard through to the bone. "...I told you we would meet again. I can feel now. I can feel everything. And I know the true order of the universe. Order that you can experience."

The Captain wanted no part of this. Data's maniacal look reminded him more of Lore than of the Data he knew.

"Well, Captain, " Data continued, "you opened the box. Now you must come with me."

The chains rained down fast and hard. A drop of blood splashed into Data's waiting mouth. He savored the taste of it: salty, metallic, chaotic.

"I will enjoy teaching you order." Data said as he dipped a finger into a pool of blood that welled up on Picard's skin. He slid his finger into his mouth. "And I have eternity to know your flesh."