“And it’s the Chimera by light-years!” screamed Lieutenant Jarata as he jumped out of his seat, fist-bumped the air and turned to his co-pilot to high-five him.

Slapping the young pilot’s palm with his, Horatio McCallister cheered with delight at their victory. “Damn, that feels good, Rubon!”

“It sure does, sir!” Jarata replied as he sat back down in his chair and pushed the Delta-class runabout into a nose spin followed by a loop-the-loop manoeuvre. He was showing off to all of the spectators the pride in the Starfleet team. 

“The Bellerophon is hailing us!” McCallister announced from his station behind Jarata and pressed the answer button quickly. “This is the Chimera; go ahead, Number One!”

“Congratulations to you both!” Commander Jaz said over the channel. “I’m sure the folks back at home will be happy to hear you defended Starfleet’s honour!”

Both men chuckled. 

“Thank you, Lirissa,” McCallister replied. “We’re heading back now.”

“The champagne is on ice! Bellerophon out!” 

“Take us home, Mister Jarata,” McCallister ordered. 

Jarata did as he was told, nodding with acknowledgement and grinning and piloted their ship back to the Bellerophon. 

McCallister shared his smirk as they flew past the other racers, knowing they had just won the Antarian Trans-stellar Rally. In his early forties and in his second year of commanding the Bellerophon, Captain Horatio McCallister was pleased to see this mission end. Though it had resulted in a win for him, the crew and the Federation, it had been a long one. Being the younger brother of the McCallister family, Horatio had always thought he had more energy than his two older brothers, James Preston and Conrad. However, now forty-one, he was starting to find himself sounding more and more like his brothers in how they complained about their older age. The other day, Horatio had discovered a stray lick of grey and silver hair in his fringe. Straight away, he changed their colour and booked an appointment with the barber to ensure he could stimulate a bit of hair growth. He refused to become like Conrad and have a receding hairline. Though his brother James Preston had embraced his older age (Horatio’s sister-in-law had called it his Silver Fox years), Horatio knew that his brother was just as conscious about his appearance. Horatio had uncovered that on more than one occasion, his brother James had some work done to remove a few wrinkles and the odd grey hair. He made a Son’a’s need to have a facelift look ordinary. Unlike his brother, who commanded one of the most powerful ships in Starfleet, Horatio did not share his blond hair. Instead, he appeared more like his older brother and mother, with dark brown hair and brown eyes. The only things that Horatio and James did share were their strong jawlines and boyish grin with dimples. Clean-shaven, Horatio knew how to not only use charm to get himself out of a tricky situation but to also impress those under his leadership and those he wanted to pursue romantically. That said, Horatio was more successful in the former than the latter. For instance, he was not with anyone at this point, and he found himself contemplating whether or not that was a good thing. Focussing on his career, especially as he had only made captain over a year ago, had been his driving force. Now he felt more settled; the idea of being with someone had crossed his mind more than once. 

The Chimera eventually landed on the floor of the Bellerophon’s shuttlebay. The gentle bump caused the captain to come out of his trance and focus on powering down the ship. 

“Captain,” Jarata said after flicking the last switch in the opposite direction, “thank you so much for letting me participate in the race and being my co-pilot.”

Smiling in appreciation for his pilot’s kind words, McCallister responded. “It’s been a privilege being your teammate, Rubon.” He stood up, “Now, I don’t know about you but I am itching to get out of this flight suit and enjoy that glass of champagne that Commander Jaz mentioned.”

Jarata looked down at his flight suit. The standard white, grey, black and maroon pinstripe outfit wasn’t the most comfortable to wear. “I agree with you, sir, but thank you again.” He extended his hand out to his captain.

“Bring it in,” McCallister told Jarata as he pulled the young pilot in for a brief hug. The two men had been flying the runabout for so long they had bonded over their love of flying, and a new fresh closeness now existed between them. Most Starfleet captains wouldn’t have allowed such close connection, but if that was one thing Horatio was not going to be and that was a stuck-up captain that kept his distance from his crew. 

McCallister could see himself in Jarata a lot. Being a former pilot; McCallister knew the passion for flying was exhilarating. The two men did have a lot in common. Rubon Jarata was twenty-five and hailed from the pleasure planet of Risa. McCallister was confident that he would one day make a name for himself as one of the finest pilots that Starfleet had ever seen in its time, better than Sulu, Detmer, Ortegas, Paris and Ro. For now, though, he was pleased to have Jarata on the Bellerophon. Though a similar height to his captain, Jarata’s tanned bronze skin was complimented by his fluffy, curly black hair and hazel-coloured eyes. McCallister’s first officer had once described Jarata as a ‘flirt’ and a bit self-obsessed with his appearance. He was constantly working out or doing something physical when not on duty. A keen sportsman, he was always organising a game of something between the crew or sorting out some tournament. Three months ago, he had organised a scaled-down version of the Olympics among the departments. After finding out that the captain was quite the swimmer, Rubon insisted they team up as part of a relay team with Commander Jaz. The entire thing had gone down well among the crew and brought them closer. It was another reason why when the time came to select someone to become the third officer, Horation’s choice was Rubon. He was loved by the crew, and he was an excellent officer. He knew how to lead when it was needed. Though the choice had initially been difficult to make, especially as it came after the death of their chief science officer, eventually, the captain knew who he wanted. 

The moment the duo walked down the lowered ramp, they were met with a tremendous eruption of applause and cheering from the entire shuttle bay staff. Waving and saying thanks, the two appreciated the gesture from their colleagues before making their way to the turbolift and heading up to deck two, section thirteen to the mess hall. Deck two was filled with their guests. Along the corridor, various non-Federation aliens walked the corridors or were speaking to members of the Bellerophon’s crew. The moment they were seen, more cheers and clapping took place and within a few seconds, everyone present had lined the corridor towards the mess hall’s doors, celebrating the winners. The doors to the mess hall parted, and the party that was taking place quieted upon their arrival before the praising resumed. Approaching him first was Ambassador O’Zyele, the Antarian leader with who they had developed a strong rapport over the last few weeks. 

“Captain McCallister, Lieutenant Jarata, it is my pleasure to announce you as the winners of the twenty-third Antarian Trans-stellar Rally!” The race coordinator said before shaking their hands. “What a marvellous show you put on!” 

“Thank you, Mister Ambassador,” McCallister said with a huge grin, shaking their man’s hand back. O’Zyele was of a similar age to McCallister, and his Antarian facial distinctions jiggled with his excitement. His forehead ridges, which looked like his skin was being squeezed in the middle above the bridge of his nose, looked less creased as he smiled. Though the dark spots behind his ears and down his neck appeared to get darker as he showed his joy at the success of another race among the former warring races which he represented.

“Captain, as the winning team, we would appreciate it if you shared some words of inspiration with everyone,” O’Zyele stated, gesturing towards the raised podium they had set up in the centre of the mess hall. 

McCallister looked at Jarata, who smirked back, and insisted his teammate join him on the stage. The moment they stepped on it, a ship-wide intercom channel was open, as was a channel to all of the ships assembled along the edge of the race course. McCallister took a breath in before speaking. Smiling, he had hoped his boyish grin and charm would help him with the icing on the cake.

“To say I am proud of this achievement would be an understatement,” He started. “And it is with great satisfaction that I thank everyone on the Bellerophon for their hard work in making this possible. I’d like to especially thank Lieutenant Rubon Jarata, who is one of the finest pilots I’ve known, and I know he shares my sentiment when I say thank you to everyone who participated today. We have thoroughly loved flying with so many other amazing exceptional pilots.” 

Pausing for a moment, Horatio realised he needed to go deeper with his thoughts. “I know it’s been a long time since Starfleet participated in this race, but we are greatly humbled by what we have witnessed not just today but in these last few weeks when we first arrived in the area. When we responded to Captain Joxom’s distress call,” McCallister gestured to the Terrellian captain nearby, “and began assisting the Antarian Pact Organisation in dealing with the sudden appearance of Blood Diliithum in this region, did we really see what you all have achieved here in the past two decades. The last Starfleet captain to encounter your group had high hopes of how well you would prosper. I know for a fact the moment my report goes back to Command that she will be interested to see the incredible journey you have been on since the first Trans-stellar Rally. We are among like-minded individuals who see the benefit of mutual cooperation and the importance of exploration. The fact you were prepared to allow us to enter this race, something that has become a tradition for your people, shows that your continued looking outwards with an open mind will continue to serve you well. Sitting on the bridge of my vessel is my ship’s dedication plaque. On it reads a quote from a leader from my own race’s history. He said that change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek. Without a doubt, the change you sought was peace, and now it is with you all. Seeing you all work together across your vessels as mixed crews reminds me of the Federation back in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. I thank you all again for your hospitality and time with us. We will treasure it for a long time.” 

The entire mess hall erupted into more cheers and clapping the moment McCallister finished his speech. O’Zyele approached the captain and lieutenant, and he presented them with a giant silver trophy and a medal each that he draped over their heads. 

Almost half an hour later, McCallister had changed out of his flight suit and into his dress uniform. Standing with the delegates from across the Antarian Pact sipping on champagne and eating a range of hors d’oeuvres, McCallister was standing with Ambassador O’Zyele and his first officer.

“So, captain, what is planned next for the Bellerophon?” The ambassador said after sipping on his drink. 

McCallister looked to Jaz, who looked back at him with a smile; before answering the Antarian ambassador. “We’re planning to head to a nearby T-Cluster and begin mapping it.”

“Interesting; perhaps, I could speak to my superiors and see if one or two of our ships could join you for such an expeditionary?” O’Zyele offered.

“We’d be honoured to be accompanied by your ships, Mister Ambassador,” Jaz replied. The unjoined Trill smiled sweetly with their VIP. “However, surely the Pact will need as many of its ships to continue the recovery operation since we removed the blood dilithium from the area?” Jaz pushed her bobbed-style black hair behind her ear. McCallister was not the only one who could enchant a foreign dignitary. 

Sighing heavily, O’Zyele nodded. “Sadly, I think you may be right. Though the Trans-stellar Rally would have promoted the united among our races, the disruption the blood dilithium has caused on so many of our people will take some time to resolve.”

“Something I am certain you will be able to resolve quickly and effectively,” Jaz added.

At that point, a call from the bridge came down for the captain. Starfleet had sent him a message. Excusing himself and Jaz from the ambassador, the two Starfleet leaders departed from the party with a bit of haste to retreat to the ready room. 

“Do you think the ambassador noticed we were eager to leave?” McCallister asked his first officer the moment they got in the turbolift and the doors closed. 

She shook her head. “No way. I gave him two extra glasses of champagne to make him…happier with our efforts.”

McCallister burst out laughing after hearing his first officer had got a politician drunk to help them. “Let’s just hope that whatever Starfleet wants with us won’t require us to give Ambassador O’Zyele any more drink.”

“Don’t worry, sir, we’ve got plenty of champagne to share around,” Jaz replied as they arrived on the bridge and headed to his ready room.

Stardate: 77988 (Four days later)

“Rubon, take us out of warp and place the outpost on the main screen,” McCallister said from his command chair. 

Feeling the Bellerophon drop out of warp, the captain of the Intrepid-class blinked once, and then the image of the enormous Markonian Outpost appeared before him. After four days at high warp and the use of the Turei underspace subspace corridors, they finally arrived at the destination as ordered by Vice Admiral Bennet. 

“The rest of the expeditionary force is here, sir,” Jaz announced after looking up from the console that sat between them. “I’m detecting the Themis, the Triton and the-”

“Odyssey,” Horatio said, finishing her sentence and smiling at the image of the massive Starfleet ship that now appeared on the view screen. It had been some time since he and his crew had seen the Odyssey, and he was more than eager to see its captain. His brother, Captain James Preston McCallister. “Send a message to the Odyssey, and tell them the party can start now we’ve arrived!”

Jaz chuckled as she sent the message.

“Wow, talk about a party!” Ensign Jonarom remarked the moment the large ensemble of Bellerophon crew entered The Auditorium. “And talk about a huge mess hall!”

Chuckling to himself, Captain Horatio McCallister looked at the young Ardanan man. “I’m not sure it’s quite classified as a mess hall, Jonarom.”

Blushing a bit, Jonarom responded.  “Oh, well it must be at least five times bigger than our one.” 

“I believe you will find the exact dimensions to be closer to ten times the size of our mess hall, ensign.” Lieutenant (junior grade) T’Penni disagreed as she pointed to the floor upstairs. “There is further space on the upper level.”

“This ship is a floating starbase,” Jonarom said in amazement.

“It is impressive.” T’Penni agreed.  

Horatio smiled at how in awe the two youngest members of his senior staff were at his brother’s ship. T’Penni, his Vulcan chief engineer who had only been in charge of the Bellerophon’s engine room for a year now, remained unfazed by the huge social gathering. Instead, she remained almost stiff with her hands firmly clasped behind the bottom of her spine as she observed the room. Her tight black hair was pulled back as her almost icy eyes gazed at the scene before them. In contrast to her, Ensign Jonarom’s almost floppy, fluffy and messy brown hair was pushed back to the side of his face. Horatio’s new chief science officer, as of a few months ago, had a huge grin on his face. Knowing the Ardanan’s background, hailing from the former upper echelons of his people’s society where fancy gatherings were regular, he was quite used to such things to a certain degree. However, Jonarom loved spending more time in school, learning about the universe around him. Though some would call him a child-genius, Horatio had learned that even though Jonarom knew his stuff (he was very clever for someone so young and could understand most scientific concepts quicker than others, which was supported by an identic memory) he wasn’t a show off with it. Jonarom was the complete opposite, partly due to his naivety and found himself enjoying every new experience they encountered. Even through the hardship of the recent blood dilithium crisis where the ship assisted the Antarian Pact, he still found the whole phenomenon fascinating. A word he had coined from T’Penni and would often use. 

Moving back to the room at hand, Horatio had never been jealous about the size of the Odyssey, in fact, he had always wondered how his brother had gained such a prestigious command in the first place. “Now remember, tonight is about us getting to know others. So please, behave and don’t break anything. I don’t want my brother charging me for repairs!” Horatio told his staff before they all went their separate ways. 

Watching Jonarom offer T’Penni his arm, like a true gentleman, Horatio saw the two officers move off into the crowd to ‘explore’. 

Jaz walked up to the captain’s side, “Your brother did say the drinks are on him, didn’t he?” 

“I hope so, as I’m not having a tab open on my name with you and Edeena around,” Horatio answered, motioning to his second officer beside him. 

The tall, slender Bajoran woman jokingly showed offence to her captain’s comment. “Really, sir, I’m upset you think Lirissa and I would do such a thing,” She replied. 

Turning to Lieutenant Commander Jirani Edeena, the ship’s security and tactical chief, Horatio gave her that ‘look’ to say he knew better. “All I’m saying, commander, is where has the five cases of Antarian cider that Ambassador O’Zyele gifted to Rubon and me as part of our winning prize?”

Pushing her curly blonde hair back behind her shoulders, the Bajoran woman shrugged her shoulders before replying with a smirk. “As your security chief, I can inform you that they are securely locked away for the safety of everyone, sir.”

Horatio just grinned and shook his head. “Thank you for looking after us, commander.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” Jirani bowed her head slightly. 

“Edeena, are you coming to the bar with me or not?” Jaz insisted.

The Bajoran woman excused herself as she joined her comrade as they made their way towards the bar. Horatio found himself standing with who was left. His Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Sarella Corben (of Betazed) had her armed linked in with his Chief of Operations, Senior Chief Petty Officer Bronden. The brawny Zaldan didn’t appear that interested or keen on the music being played (Horatio could see his nephew playing in the band and knew he would go over to see him). 

“Before you say it, sir, yes we promise not to be attached to each other all night,” Corben said with a playful smirk. She let go of her partner (the two of them had been together for almost four years now) and pulled her hair up into a tight bun. “We’ve got to set the standard for the Bellerophon’s honour, of course.”

“Indeed,” Bronden said before the two of them walked away.

Horatio sighed. The two of them were the complete opposite of each other, but somehow they made their relationship work. Talking about relationships, the captain turned to the last two standing with him. His pilot, Rubon Jarata and his chief counsellor, Lieutenant (junior grade) Krizon Hilgan. The latter, like their first officer, was an unjoined Trill and like his pilot had similar short curly black hair. The two men had an on/off relationship and from what Horatio understood at present, they were off and had been for several months. Nevertheless, they found a way to keep what relationship they had when not together professional and didn’t allow it to affect their work. “Gentlemen,” The captain said to them, “please don’t feel like you need to stand around on guard duty for me. Go meet your counterparts and enjoy the festivities.”  

After hearing their captain insist on them leaving him, the two men went in opposite directions and began their quests to find the different department heads from Odyssey, Triton and Themis. 

Seeing his brother standing in the centre of the large crowd, Horatio made his way over to see James as well as his nephew, Alfie. As he made his way over, he wondered if serving under his brother would be a good thing. One thing he couldn’t complain about was not having the chance to spend some time with his three nephews. Besides his brother being one hell of an officer and captain, he was an amazing father. 

Something Horatio was jealous of.

“We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile!”

Hearing that announcement, Commander Jaz already barked the next set of orders without thinking. “Shields to maximum, standby all weapons!”

Horatio McCallister leant forward in his chair as he considered what was taking place before them. A Borg settlement on a broken planet. “This doesn’t make sense,” He stated before turning to look over at his chief science officer. “Jonarom, analyse that hail and determine if it uses the same subspace domain linked to the Borg Collective’s hive mind.”

The young ensign nodded and went to work, while he did that Jaz turned to her captain.

“Second-guessing your brother?” She whispered. 

McCallister shook her head, “No, but from what I know about the Borg, it doesn’t make sense for them to make that threat without being able to back it up. That’s a crashed cube far from any known territory that the Collective once claimed in the Delta Quadrant. Why try to intimidate us with that?”

“Isn’t that their standard greeting?” Lieutenant Jarata asked from the helm.

“Yes, but my gut is telling me something is off here,” McCallister said as he stood up and took a stride over to the science station. “Anything, ensign?”

Jonarom nodded. “I’m using multimodal reflection sorting to scan for the subspace signals normally operated by the Borg hive mind, sir, and I’m detecting something on the lower subspace bands.”

“Why on the lower subspace bands?” McCallister asked. 

Checking the scans on the consoles before him, the young Ardanan scientist looked at what the readings were telling him. “Comparing them to what Starfleet has seen before of the hive minds signal, this is not normal, sir. It’s almost like a poor man’s attempt at a collective consciousness.”

“A mini-hive mind?” Chief Bronden suggested from the operations station just behind the captain and ensign.  

Turning to look at his chief of operations, McCallister wanted him to elaborate further. “Bronden, explain.”

“Though the Borg settlement has powerful shielding in place, the rest of it has a low-level energy output. I would summarise that what Ensign Jonarom is detecting is not the actual hive mind but a smaller one, perhaps one that is local to these Borg only.” The Zaldan man hypothesied. 

“Then why don’t we ask the fleet captain why we’re not blowing them up?” Lieutenant Commander Jirani asked aloud from the security and tactical station.

“Because that’s not how we do things, Edeena,” Jaz reminded the Bajoran woman. “This isn’t a Klingon ship where we blow things up and ask questions later.”

“That’s an incredible threat to our security and that of every other civilisation in the quadrant,” Jirani stated.

“And that’s enough,” McCallister said in a stern tone before turning to his science officer. “Jonarom, share your analysis with the Odyssey and send over our theory.”

“Aye, sir,” the ensign replied. 

McCallister walked back to the centre of the room and sat down in his chair. He knew that Jirani could come out with things sometimes, but he hated it when she made it awkward for them all. Jaz noticed his expression as he sat down and gave him a reassuring look of support before returning to look at the console that sat between them. 

“The Themis has just launched its fighters; they’re taking up a defensive formation above the squadron,” Jaz announced. 

McCallister took a breath in and wondered what his brother was preparing. 

“Captain’s log, stardate seven-eight-zero-zero-three point seven. The Bellerophon has been assigned the duty of searching through the debris field left behind from the destruction of the Borg Tactical Cube. We remain at tactical alert in case we face any booby traps. In the meantime, we have salvaged several Borg data nodes. My crew has been working on decrypting them.”

Walking down the corridor of deck eight, Captain Horatio McCallister had his first officer beside him. Jaz had remained silent on their trip down from the bridge. The Bellerophon’s corridors were busy as the crew went about their work, but the appearance of armed security officers at various points reminded them of their situation. Doctor Corben was currently in surgery with six former Borg drones. Helping these ex-Bs was the right call to make, but it placed pressure on everyone with the heightened security measures. 

Approaching the astrometrics lab, the two command officers stepped through the threshold when the door sensors detected them. Waiting for them inside were Chief Bronden, Lieutenant T’Penni and Ensign Jonarom. Each stood working on the three main consoles in the centre of the lab. 

“Report,” McCallister said as he and Jaz stood just before the workstations. 

“We’ve been able to go through most of the data nodes, sir,” Bronden shared before motioning to the huge, wraparound wall screen.

“That quickly?” Jaz questioned.

Jonarom responded first. “Borg alphanumeric code of this era is quite simple for us to work through.”

“Starfleet has had a long time to interpret Borg terminology,” T’Penni reminded the Trill first officer.

“So it appears,” Jaz said before prompting Bronden to continue his presentation. 

“A group of the data nodes we’ve recovered contained the cube’s manifest, including assimilation reports,” Bronden announced as he showed a long list of Borg designations. Next to them were names and alien designations. “It should make our lives a bit easier in working out identities for those unsure.”

McCallister nodded in agreement. “Make sure you transmit this information to the rest of the squadron.”

“I will, but T’Penni and Jonarom have found something else from the data nodes they’ve been working through,” The muscular Zaldan said before he moved his webbed fingers over the controls to transfer it over to the Vulcan engineer and Ardanan male. 

T’Penni spoke confidently, her hands gripped behind her back and only using the odd hand gesture to swipe the holographic controls. “Another group of data nodes include the last sensor recordings for the Cube before it meant its destruction.”

“The black box?” McCallister asked.

“Black box?” T’Penni queried with a raised eyebrow.

McCallister smirked, but it was Jonarom who translated for her. “The captain is referring to an old Earth device that was used to record flight data and other valuable information that could be used if an aircraft crashed somehow. We used to have similar devices on Ardana.”

“A crude comparison, though I can perceive the similarity on a basic level,” T’Penni said. “Nevertheless, the Cube’s black box records show us that our theory and Three of Eleven’s explanation of how they crash landed here are true.”

“Well, at least that’s one mystery we don’t need to dig further into,” Jaz remarked.

“Agreed,” McCallister said before ordering his chief engineer to forward that to the Odyssey. “Anything else?”

“Yes, sir,” Jonarom took over and activated a new set of information for the screen. “The Cube ejected its Queen’s cell before it crash-landed into the planet.”

Jaz shot a look at McCallister, alarmed to hear that revelation. 

“Where?” The captain asked.

“We think it crash-landed on the fourth moon,” Jonarom indicated as he brought up a sensor scan of the star system. “Sensors aren’t picking up energy signature emanating from the moon; however, there is a faint trail that leads towards it that is consistent with a smaller Borg escape sphere.”

“How’s that possible? I thought the Borg Queen was killed when Admiral Janeway’s future self infected the Collective with the pathogen?” Jaz questioned the group.

“It is logical to assume that when a vessel that contains a Queen’s cell is near to destruction, a Borg protocol may be that they must launch the designated evacuation vessel,” T’Penni suggested. 

“It’s a strong possibility,” Bronden agreed. “But surely, by now, if a Queen had survived by now, we would have seen something. Sensors don’t detect the same subspace frequencies associated with the Collective’s interlink frequencies, especially those associated with the Queen.”

“Let me talk to my brother; in the meantime, let’s launch a class five probe to take a closer look,” McCallister said as he stared at the readings before them. The small moon almost resembled Earth’s moon in its spherical appearance and the hundreds of impact craters. He was now leaning over one of the consoles, considering all the risks with their latest discovery. There were too many. He stood up straight and thanked his officers before he indicated to Jaz for them to leave with a simple head bop.

Once the doors to astrometrics were closed behind them, McCallister looked at Jaz as they headed back to the turbolift, “Quite a find, Lirissa.”

“That’s putting it mildly, Horatio.” She replied. “I hope you’re not planning on another salvage operation?”

“Why not?” McCallister asked. “A closer look at Borg technology, especially where the central figure that brings order to chaos is kept. Starfleet Intelligence could be reviewing our data for years to come.”

“At what risk, though?” She countered with. Approaching the turbolift door, she tapped the call button. “It’s too great, Horatio.” She advised him as they entered the cart the moment the doors opened. “We could all end up with cortical implants before we know it.”

Disagreeing with her, McCallister leant against the wall of the lift. “Or we may get our hands on technology that Starfleet has never dreamed of.”

Jaz sighed. “It’s your call, but can you genuinely see your brother agreeing?”

“Probably not,” McCallister grumbled before standing up straight and calling for them to be taken to deck one. 

Though eager to impress his brother, Horatio McCallister had second doubts now. And third doubts. And fourth. Without a doubt, he was doubting his decision with this whole situation. Sending several teams ahead of him to secure the crash site had seemed like a wise choice, but now as he flew the Bellerophon’s Aeroshuttle Deliades, he was starting to hear his first officer’s multiple concerns buzzing through his mind. 

How was Lirissa that good at knowing the difference between a mad idea and one that could lead to disaster? 

Shaking the idea out of his mind, the captain pushed the support craft through the atmosphere of the moon they were investigating. Their probe had discovered the Borg escape vessel’s remains crashed in the north pole region. It had an M-class atmosphere but was like Andoria’s below-zero degrees icy conditions. Pieces of debris had been discovered, and so far, the excavation team hadn’t encountered any dead drones. Now that his security chief, Lieutenant Commander Jirani, had determined that it was safe to visit the site, he had eagerly volunteered to fly the Deliades down (along with extra supplies and extra members to join the team). 

Wrapped in arctic gear, minus the thick gloves, Horatio was enjoying what should be his captain’s yacht, but the Intrepid-class ship’s auxiliary support vessel was designed for more research missions. As their Delta-class runabout, the Chimera, was already in use along with a couple of other shuttles, using their Aeroshuttle felt like the right choice. 

Beside him at the co-pilot chair was Ensign Jonarom, his chief science officer, who was now joining the team. Though not wearing the larger puffer coat, the Ardanan had his silver outdoor trousers over his undergarments held up by braces.

“Have you visited any cold planets, sir?” Jonarom asked as they passed through a thick cloud coverage.

Nodding, Horatio answered him. “I did survival training on Andoria and Delta Vega. And Lirissa once took me skiing to the Tenaran Ice Cliffs.”

“On Trill?”

“Yeah,” McCallister nodded before adding one more fact. “On the holodeck, though.”

Jonarom chuckled. “My arctic training was conducted in Antarctica. I’ve never set foot on an ice-like planet since then.”

“Then just make sure you wrap up warm,” McCallsiter advised. “And watching your footing.”

The ensign nodded. “Aye, sir.”

“We’re approaching the landing coordinates,” McCallister announced as they cleared through the skyline, and they could see the massive stretch of land covered in thick snow and ice. Before them, their teams had set up a rudimental research station with tents and the use of their shuttles. Spikes of Borg debris pushed up through the snow. Carefully, he landed the craft beside the camp before announcing to everyone else, a mixture of more security, science and engineering officers; they were down. McCallister took the lead, and after pulling up his hood, placing on his gloves and making sure he had his phaser rifle slung over his shoulder, they left the Deliades.

“Welcome to the New Fire Caves!” Lieutenant Commander Jirani said with a huge smile across her face as she joined the team in the middle of the snowy field.

“You’ve got to be kidding, commander?” Jonarom stated. 

McCallister chuckled at his security chief’s wit. “Of course she is; the Bajoran Five Caves aren’t that cold.”

“Depends who you ask,” The Bajoran chief security and tactical officer remarked. “However, we are in the middle of danger; it was the best idea I had at the time.”

“Very well,” McCallister said, mildly amused. “Report, commander.”

She gestured for them to follow her into one of the field tents they had set up. Once they were through the doors, it was a bit warmer, and the snow scene had evaporated to be replaced by something that would have given any child nightmares. Before them standing tall like a statue, was a piece of technology that surprised them all.

“That looks like a gateway.” Jonarom started but paused as he tried to come up with further words.

McCallister felt himself swallow hard at the device. He turned to Jirani, “Is it what I think it is?”

She nodded. “Aye, sir. It’s a spatial trajector.” Jirani stepped towards it while other members of the Bellerophon crew were analysing. “It is completely dead, though.”

“Are we sure?” McCallister checked, still feeling a bit uneasy at finding such a find. 

“It is, captain.” spoke his chief engineer, who came from behind the tractor with a tricorder in one hand. The Vulcan woman was wearing similar warm attire as she joined her captain. “As we know, when a Borg vessel is destroyed, its critical systems self-destruct.”

“Is there anything of it that can be salvaged, T’Penni?” Jonarom questioned as he pulled out his tricorder to scan the device.

“No,” T’Penni said with a shake of her head. “Unless a Borg vessel was to arrive and salvage the remains, I cannot determine how to make the device operational.”

Crossing his arms against his chest, Captain McCallister started to consider the implications of their find. The others continued with their discussions about the trajector and other discoveries. It was only recently that Starfleet had discovered that the Borg possessed such technology, but now it was right before him. He knew Starfleet Intelligence and Starfleet R&D would have a field day if they brought one of these home. Studying even a broken one would keep Starfleet engineers busy for a long time. Tapping his combadge, he called up to the Bellerophon and asked his first officer to put him through to his brother.

“What have they found down there, sir?” She asked.

“Let’s just say that once again, you were right.” He replied.

Jaz chuckled. “Glad to be of service, but is it that bad, Horatio?”

“I may be overthinking it, but I’d prefer to play it safe. Have we discovered anything else from our scans of the moon?

 “No, your location is the only vicinity where the Borg debris lays.” She answered. “I’ve got your brother for you.”

“Patch him through to the Deliades,” McCallister said before he pulled his hood back over his head and left the small base camp to update the squadron commander with their find. During his trek across the snow, he wondered what James would do once he briefed him. He knew that it would be an impressive report; however, knowing James, he wouldn’t be happy with the threat it may bring.

“The last excavation teams have been beamed up,” reported Chief Bronden. The Zaldan man stood at the operations console just as Captain McCallister finished at Mission Ops II.

As McCallister walked past Bronden’s station, he tapped the side and thanked his chief of operations. Then, he went down the steps and around towards the bridge’s centre.

Approaching his chair, McCallister was updated by his first officer. “The last of the shuttles have returned, too,” Jaz shared. 

“I’m sure T’Penni will appreciate not having to build any replacements,” McCallister said as he lowered himself into his chair. It was one area of commanding an Intrepid-class ship that McCallister had vowed to keep an eye on, and that was not losing so many shuttles (or runabouts) while in the Delta Quadrant.

“Tricobalt devices are armed and ready,” announced Lieutenant Commander Jiranni. The Bajora woman had pulled her golden blonde hair up into a bun before focussing on the matter at hand. Bellerophon had never fired its tricobalt payload before, so she had to reconfigure the launchers for such a matter.  

Raising his right hand to slow her down, McCallister replied to his chief security and tactical officer. “Hold on, Edeena, let’s give the Themis a chance to take out the shuttle.”

“I don’t see that happening any time soon, sir,”  Jarata stated, changing the viewscreen to clarify his point. “The shuttlecraft’s shields have been altered, and the Justice Wing is having a field day trying to disable it. But, unfortunately, its course direction has it set straight for the moon, hitting the atmosphere in a very awkward position.”

Jaz sighed to McCallister’s left before speaking up. “Those shield upgrades will likely help it on its entry into the upper atmosphere.” 

“Themis is trying something,” Jiranni notified. “They’re firing a torpedo in its path; I’m detecting them charging their forward phaser array.”

McCallister realised what Cambil was trying to do; it was a tactic he had seen his brother use many times. “They’re going to create a photonic shockwave. Full power to shields!”

Themis did as he had predicted, and the viewscreen showed the shockwave. Seconds later, the shuttle flew through it all. Unscathed. Undamaged. Still intact and still heading for them now.

An alarm went off at the operations station, and Bronden quickly responded. “We’re being hailed; it’s Captain Cambil for you, sir!”

McCallister gestured for him to open a channel.

“Horatio, fire!”

In a single heartbeat, McCallister heard the orders from Cambil. He took a breath in and turned to Jirani. 

“No! Wait!” exclaimed Ensign Jonarom from science.

Everyone swiftly turned to the chief science officer. 

“Explain, ensign.” Jaz said, almost irritated that he had interrupted the captain. 

Tapping furiously away at the holographic console before him, the young Ardanan used the interface to take over other projectors on the bridge to show a scan of the excavation. “The ex-drone beamed down to the planet just before the Themis detonated its photonic shockwave.” Jonarom pointed at the green dot that showed the ex-Borg’s lifesign. It was next to the spatial trajector that also showed power. “I don’t know how, but it has been able to bring the trajector back online. If we fire a tricobal device at it while its active, I don’t know what the consequences could be.”

“And if that drone get’s loose somewhere else in this quadrant, we don’t know what the consequences could be either,” Jirani countered. 

The focus shifted to the captain. It was his call. His decision. 

Swallowing hard, Horatio knew that what ever he decided in the next nanosecond would cause damage one way or another. So he went with what his gut was telling him. 

“Fire the tricobalt device, Edeena.”