Bio: Margaux Chéri Rogét

[LtCmdr Roget 0]

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The information that is to follow is for historical relevance only.  No such records exist in Starfleet historical data or personnel files.  Under no conditions would any member of the crew have access to this information or know the details therein.

 

 

   The dull sounds of explosions reverberated overhead, and Megan slowly became aware of her surroundings again.  Her skin felt as though it had been ripped from her body and she felt an incredible desire to scratch at every part of herself.  "Just a reaction from the transformation," she whispered to herself.  The voice that reached her ears was not her own, and at first it caught her off guard, but then she realized that it was Margaux's voice coming from her.  "I obviously need to work on my southern drawl," she said wearily, refusing to open her eyes quite yet.

 

   The lights flickered briefly as more explosions sounded, and Megan unwillingly opened her eyes to check the chronometer.  "Two days!"  She quickly sat up only to be rewarded with a fresh wave of pain. Taking three deep breaths she lay back down and waited to feel the familiar flood of endorphins that would be triggered for release by the cranial implant.  As the pain began to ease she sat up again, thinking two days, explosions, it could only be the Aries responding to the distress message that Melville had sent.  

 

   Before she and Margaux had transported to her underground bunker, she had set a time delay on the containment of the biogenetic war agents they created at Lincoln Outpost.  No one could land on the surface to search for survivors once the agents were released into the atmosphere, it would take months before the air would be at even the minimum toxicity levels for personnel to scavenge through the rubble.  She thought again of Atragon, of the message left in her quarters that he would never receive, and again felt incredible sadness.  "What's done is done," she whispered, "there is no turning back now."  

 

   The pain was negligible now and she stood up and walked over to the mirror.  Staring back at her was Margaux.  The same bronze-gold hair, the same golden skin.  She fingered the dark lashes around her eyes and smiled.  Her skin still felt raw, but over the next few hours she knew that would ease.  Satisfied with her transformation she went over to check on Margaux.  Megan had extracted a sample of her own DNA and set a similar transformation orb over Margaux.  She had not survived the procedure and as Megan looked down at her own image she felt a strange mixture of guilt and relief.  She pulled the sheet up over Margaux's face and felt as though part of her had died as well.

 

   She turned and walked down a short hallway to a small ship that was ensconced in the bunker.  Climbing into the pilot seat, she preprogrammed the coordinates, set the auto pilot/auto start, and attached a temporal device to her forehead.  It was time to forget it all, hopefully forever, and begin a new life.