—- Ready Room ——

“Again with the coffee?” Commander Cruz protested, as the away team filed it.

Captain Hathorne ignored her protests, as Lieutenants Jara, and Matthews filed in and was joined by Ensign Constable. He took his cup of coffee over to his desk and realized that the away team was all women. That had not been expected, he tried to keep his command team as close to equal as possible, but apparently he’d taken the right mix of people to be a fully female team.

”So Commander Cruz will lead this mission,“ he said, “We’re way out of our jurisdiction as it were, but we’re the only ship free at the moment. A bunch of Borg signals just lit up and we’re not sure why. There’s no functioning Borg, we’re just here to take a look and collect anything we can for Starfleet. Ensign Constable from Engineering is in charge of picking out what’s significant.”

Cruz nodded, “We’ll be though, there’s no rush we take out time and catalogue everything, we haven’t come across a stash of Borg tech like this in awhile.”

The Captain nodded, “Report to the transporter room, Cruz will be with you shortly.”

The others left and he looked at his First Officer, “I’m having Th’kaotross put locks on the weapons, just in case we have another Fleet Day.”

”I’d say it’s unlikely they use the same technique twice,” Cruz said, ”But having Ensign Constable nail me in the back isn’t me preferred way of going out.”

The Captain laughed and walked his First Officer out, to see a ship on the main view screen.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Thomas Winfield was at the conn, and reported, “A scavenger sir. It’s started pulling back when we showed up.“

Lieutenant Junior Grade William Hume at tactical nodded,  “We out pace them and are much better armed, clearly they got the Borg signal too and were looking for scraps.“

”Keep scanning for anyone else,“ the Captain said, “Cruz take the away team down, we’ll handle it up here.”

—- Zaretti 573 —-

Lieutenant Jara had seen death, and devastation before. She’d grown up around it but this was a slaughter house. She passed her flashlight’s beam across the bodies as Ensign Constable tried to return power to the facility so they could see better. Still by now they all knew that they were in a morgue of some kind, a place were Borg drones had been taken to be stripped for parts and tech. A robotic eye looked at her blankly from a shelf, disconnected for its body but still blinking. 

Commander Cruz poked an arm of a former drone that had had all the metal stripped out, and the remainder now reminded Jara of Swiss cheese for all its holes. Why did they call it Swiss cheese? Some old Earth reason probably, like a Swiss was something with lots of holes in it.

Even Lieutenant Matthew’s, the Romulan was having a hard time with this. As Assistant Chief Medical Officer she was upset at the loss of life, “This was like a factory, they brought them here to dismantle them, take their body parts and leave the flesh.”

As she searched against hope for any survivors Commander Cruz found a terminal and called up for a portable generator to be sent down. It materialized next to her allowing her to power up the terminal while the Assistant Chief Engineer was still looking for a way to restore power to the entire complex. As the others hunted through the area with their flashlights, she read what she could. 

Tapping her comm badge she spoke with the Captain, “This facility was run by someone named Bjayzl.“

”Black market dealer, Starfleet has records on her,“ Dorian’s voice in the background sounded, the Chief Strategic Operations Officer must be on the bridge with the Captain. Dorian continued, “Believed to be dead, last known sighting was by Jean-Luc Picard in 2399.”

”Looks like the was murdering Borg clones, and stripping them of party, not sure yet what’s sending the signal though,” Cruz said. The lights came on, revealing the carnage around them. Cruz winced looking forward to this being over. 

“We’ve restored power, no signs of life or trouble,” she reported.

”I’m sending over the science teams then, we’ll do an exhaustive search,” Hawthorne said, “Prepare to receive Lieutenant Debub and his team. I’ll send Hume with them as well.”

”Yes sir,” Cruz said and then closed the channel. She turned to the others, “Science teams coming in, we’ll patrol the perimeter while they work.”

—- USS Seattle, Nine Forward —-

The young Lieutenant Claudia Jara took a seat. They had been exploring the facility for hours, and had been swapped off. It was slow work, and mostly just cataloguing what she’d found. Which most often was the body party of Borg drones. When she closed her eyes she could still see them, open eyes staring back at her. She’d seen dead people before, but these were twice dead.

Lieutenant Yi Zhang from Operations joined her to hit on her. They talked a little but it was clear that the woman was not interested in what he was selling. Truthfully they wanted the same thing but also from the same gender, and there was nothing Zhang had to offer her that she found interesting. She wondered how he’d look as a Borg, and imagined like most of them he had been at one point. On Fleet Day they’d all been (pretty much).

When she closed her eyes she could hear the voice of the collective still to this day. Maybe it was a hallucination, most of the crew reported that was done with but she believed it was still them whispering to her. Seeing so many drones dead, so many who’d been like her just doing their own thing when they’d been taken, had been troubling.

After Yi Zhang had begun to realize that he was not getting anywhere with the Lieutenant he abandoned ship, as it where, and left her to her own devices. Jara nursed her drink and thought of the world and more specifically the way that although she believed in peace and working with former enemies (such as the Romulans, Klingons, and even Cardassians) she did not believe they could ever work with the Borg. She wanted them all dead, and though the carnage she had seen today, and would again when she went down to the facility, had been horrific she felt that the drones deserved it. Of course there were some “good ones” like that one who was on the Titan and had been on the Voyager, but for the most part they were relentless killing machines. Beyond the redemtion that Starfleet offered to their other adversaries.

—- Captain’s Quarters —-

“Does this feel any less special now that we’re officially condoned by Starfleet?” the Captain asked his First Officer as she looked out his window onto space below, 

“Yes, honestly yes. But if it’s making you feel better then I’m glad we did it,” Commander Cruz said.

”The senior staff walked in on us, and the Betazoid on our crew called me out specifically,” Hawthorne said defensively.

”Just don’t think I won’t still make fun of your fussy coffee,” Cruz shot back. She did like him, he was just so old fashioned. Improbably it seemed as if he’d come from the nineteenth century sometimes to captain a starship.

”This is a Anaheim type mission, cleaning up Starfleet’s junk long after anyone else cares,” he said.

Cruz shrugged, “That’s what we do, clean up messes. Not everyone can be the Enterprise. Hell I bet not even the Enterprise is always out witting Q and stopping strange new diseases.”

”I guess you’re right,” Hawthorne said, “I just wish we’d catch a regular exciting missions. Maybe something with the Cardassians.”

“Let’s go to bed, maybe tomorrow will be less gruesome,” Cruz said.

It was not.

—- Zaretti 573 —-

For the second day away teams from the USS Seattle pawed through the remainder of what Lieutenant Junior Grade William Hume thought of as like an old style ‘chop shop’ for old Borg parts. Drones had been taken here either dead, or soon to be, and dismantled. No matter that the Borg were flesh and blood like anyone else, their technogical parts had proven valuable. Probably even to Starfleet. What was left was mainly junk. Next to him a science officer that had joined the ship at Deep Space 17 was hunting through piles of metal with a tricorder.

“You the new Assistant Chief Science Officer?” Hume asked, they’d been looking for one and Lieutenant Washburne had been unwilling to select one from the current crew.

”No, I don’t think so,” Lieutenant Cortez replied, “but you’re the Assistant Security Chief right?”

”Yeah,” he said.

”That’s umm, good,“ she said digging through the piles of metal. Across the facility teams had been going since they had arrived with engineers selecting a few things of interest but most anything of value had been taken and likely sold years ago. This was a dead facility.

”Do you remember being a Borg,” she asked. 

Hume who had been avoiding that conversation with anyone tried to look busy but failed and eventually answered, “No, not really. Just voices and then it all goes black. You do?’

”No I wasn’t a Borg, I was on Starbase Bravo it was shielded, the signal didn’t get through,” Cortez said, “I’m just interested, they’re very… flawless. That interests me I guess.”

”Didn’t stop them from ending up in a body party warehouse,” Hume said picking up and arm which had fallen off its body. The entire place smelled of death, rotting flesh that had already rotted years ago.

”We’re weak and foolish, humans. I’d be assimilated, just for the feel of not being able to make a mistake or let emotions fool me,” she said.

”Spoken like someone who was just in a break up. Look being dumb and making mistakes is what separates us from the Vulcans. Us humans learn, and improve,” Hume argued.

Cortez smiled, “Maybe I was in a break up. But that doesn’t change the fact that it would be nice to be perfect. Like an Android.”

”Perfect sounds like a lot of work,” Hume said, “Hold up I got something, these piles here and here. That’s where the signals are coming from.”

The Science Officer scanned them, “Borg transponders. We’ve seen them take them off fallen Borg, they’re important to the Borg.”

Hume tapped his comm badge, “Captain we found the source of the signal. Transponders, dozens of them, possible hundreds.”

The Captain’s voice came from the tiny badge, “Debub will be down with a science team to look at it. I’ve got a call with Deep Space 17 coming in. Good job Mister Hume.”

”Keep this up and you’ll make Assistant Chief Science Officer in no time Borg girl,” Hume grinned.

”I’m just a human, who wants to be Borg, in a way,” Cortez said, “Though the collective part isn’t my cup of tea. I like my privacy.”

There was shimmering of light as another science team beamed down under the command of the Chief Science Officer Debub who quickly descended on the Borg implants with scanners and all manner of science gear that Hume did not understand. He stepped back and let them have at it as Debub spoke with Cortez about science stuff and then dismissed her to take over the scene. Hume understood what had happened, and had seen it before in his own field. You found something and then that draws a senior officer who takes over and takes the credit.

Nudging Cortez he said, “Hey you want a drink back on the ship? You can tell me more about your theories of being a Borg.”

—- Conference Room, USS Seattle —-

Hawthorne looked around nervously half expecting the conference room to vanish from the face of the Earth again, but there were no playful trickster gods around this time. Just the dull, never ending threat from the Borg. While he certainly did not love having party of his ship stolen from him by seemingly all powerful beings, the outcome had been more pleasant than anything he’d seen in relation to the Borg.

The senior staff filed in.

Taking seats, surely curious about this unexpected meeting. He’d only spoken with Commander Cruz his First Officer and the Strategic Operations team of Lieutenants Jara and Dorian. For the rest this was new information. 

Hawthorne held up a hand to quiet the chatter, “Around two hours ago a Borg Cub appeared on the sensors of Deep Space 17. We can’t see it yet but it’s steaming full speed ahead right for us. Also right for Federation space, and several populated worlds both Federation and not.”

”Lieutenant Commander Th’kaotross, how long could we hold out against a Borg Cube?” he asked his Chief Security Officer.

The Andorian thought for a moment, “Maybe three minutes, if we were lucky. If they were trying to keep us alive for assimilation.”

”The planets would last less than that. Lieutenant Debub and his science team has discovered a load of Borg transponders, taken from drones. That’s what brought us here, and we’re pretty sure that’s what’s drawing the Cube,” Hawthorne said.

”So destroy them?” Lieutenant Yuhiro Kolem asked or suggested.

”We can’t be sure that will stop the Cube. We need to take the transponders away from populated space and draw the Cube and the Borg’s attention away,” Hawthorne said, “Lieutenant Dorian.”

The Strategic Operations Chief brought a sector map up on the screen, “We have less than two hundred officers aboard the USS Seattle. The first planet the Borg will pass has two billion civilians. Starfleet and feels that the Borg pose a threat to all worlds they are near, hence our orders are to take the transponders onboard and into unexplored space away from the Borg.”

”We have one of the fastest ships available,“ Hawthorne said, “But ultimately two hundred lives is deemed an acceptable risk in this scenario. Young I’ll need full speed, for as long as you can give me.”

The Chief Engineer nodded but having been doing some of his own math pointed out, “I can give you eighteen hours at warp nine-point-nine. That would put us about here on your trajectory, after that though I’d need to take the engines offline for about three hours, then we’d get warp eight after that. That puts us in spitting distance of the Cube at its current speed.”

Hawthorne had not counted on that, “Do what you can to stretch that. Unless there’s any questions we’ll start loading the transponders into cargo bay one. Tashai you oversee that, dismissed.”

—- Nine Forward, Lounge USS Seattle —-

Pr’Nor settled in the booth next to Tashai her girlfriend. Hume had already had a few drinks though he knew better than to get drunk. Not when he had duty in the morning and everyone was already on edge with the Borg on their way and with the USS Seattle rushing towards the Borg with the intention of becoming bait. Since Fleet Day most of the crew had had experience with the Borg, and most of them being young had been Borg at one point.

Tashai was extra annoyed because Lieutenant Cruz’s stated claim to admire the Borg, even if it was not backed by a unified theory, was insulting to the El-Aurian who had lost most of her friends and family to the Borg when her world had been decimated, and she had been one of the few to escape. 

 Cruz who had come with Hume was trying to explain to the superior officer, but not making any points that would convince the woman, “I’m just saying their efficiency and rigor is impressive. They also can ignore physical or emotional needs in the way we can’t.”

Pr’Nor raised an eyebrow, “For a human you seem to understand little of emotion. Even I know what for all the Borg’s assets, to suggest that assimilation is preferable to freedom to an El-Aurian, is only going to sadden or anger them.“

”Why don’t Cruz and I go get this next round,” Hume said getting up and pulling the Lieutenant with him. When they were out of earshot he said, “Look I get what you’re saying, sort of. I don’t agree with you but maybe stop saying it right now when we’re in a race with a Borg Cube.”

Maria Cruz let out an audible sigh, she had expected the Vulcan Chief Flight Control Officer to side with her though that did not seem to be happening. Nodding she glanced at Hume, “Okay I’ll calm it down. I just find our physical limitations, well limiting.“

”Yeah I get you, but it’s not the hill to die on right now,” he said, ordering drinks for the four of them from the Bajoran behind the bar.

“Okay, look after this drink, did you want to come to my room. Watch space fly by at warp nine-point-nine,” Cruz asked.

Hume shook his head, “Sorry to give you the wrong impression. I have a girlfriend.”

Cruz frowned slightly but nodded, “Ah, too good to be true then. I should have guess, those two?”

”No, I’m not that exciting. Lieutenant Kolem, she’s the ship’s Chief Councelor, you probably haven’t met her yet because you just transferred on,” he said, “Sorry.”

”No, it’s just my luck, all the good ones are taken,” she said.

”Well maybe stop opening with how you want to be assimilated and you’ll find someone,” Hume said.

”Good advice,” Cruz smiled picking up two of the drinks as they returned to the table.

—- Engine Room —-

“The coolant is leaking,” Young said adjusting the field around the warp core. He’d never seen it fluctuate quite like this, but then he’d never pushed an engine this hard. He’d followed the lessons of any good Starfleet engineer and underestimated that he could do and more importantly what the engines could do. But now with a Borg Cube on their six there were increasingly near a breakdown.

His Assistant Chief Engineer Ensign Vanessa Constable looked over his shoulder, “You need to stop us, tell the Captain we need a few hours.”

”But the Borg,” Young said knowing the objections already. The fact was that they were out matched and out gunned by the Borg Cube and if they stopped for a time out, they’d be assimilated and the Borg would just take the transponders. Not that anyone cared about them, but leading them further away from inhabited planets was the goal. 

“The Borg aren’t going to spill our atoms all over the sector but this warp engine will,” Constable said. The problem was that the Borg was matching their speed and while the USS Seattle was pushing itself past its own limits they seemed to be barely breaking a sweat. Most of the crew was alseep, and only the engineering team had to focus. 

Lieutenant Young fought off a yawn, not having slept for days it felt like. He needed a break, and not to be pushing the engines to the point where his most talented engineer was worried that they were going to redistribute the crews atoms around space. 

He went over to a comm panel and hailed the Captain who he could tell he’d woken up, “Sir, it’s Young. I need to drop us out of warp, three, maybe four hours or otherwise we’re going to lose it soon.”

”Commander Cruz is coming down to you, I’ll let her make the call,” Hawthorne said, there was a disatisfied groan in the background. Young had seen the pair kissing and it was common knowledge on the Seattle that they were together in a way. He realized that he’d woken up the both of them with his call.

”Yes sir,” he said and closed the channel quickly.

Constable shook her head, “I’m going to my own room that’s not a hallway and enjoying my last moments in this universe before you blow us both up to please the higher ups.”

”Be back in three hours, I’ll need your help getting us going again,” he said.

“If we’re alive in three hours I’ll be back,” she said.

Ten minutes later a tired looking Commander Cruz entered engineering. Lieutenant Young  showed her the warp engines and explained to her the situation. 

“We’re talking about catastrophic destruction. We could lose the ship or at the very least warp speed. Take them offline, we have some maintenance and then I’ll have us back up and running,” Young explained.

”That easy?” Cruz asked.

”No it’s not easy, I’m simplifying it for non-engineers but the maintenance is pretty simple,” he said.

”Good, then have Delta shift do it. Take the next few hours off, sleep, drink. Then get us going, you have four hours,” Cruz said, “And then the Cube will be in visual range.”

Young nodded, “I get the urgency ma’am, it’s just how do we want to die. Exploding or assimilation.”

”How about we leave dying off the table for now,” Cruz said, “shut it down.“

She tapped her comm badge, “Medical, this is Commander Cruz I need someone to ensure that Lieutenant Young takes at least three hours of downtime now. Please releve him of duty.”

”This is Doctor T’Rala, I’d be happy to,” came the voice from the comm badge.

Cruz nodded at the Chief Engineering Officer, “Take us out of warp. Do what you need to do then hand off the easy stuff. I don’t want you falling asleep when turning these engines back on.”

With that she left, probably back to the comfort of a bed. 

Young had just taken the  engines offline when the blue clad Doctor T’Rala entered engineering. Either bored or following Commander Cruz’s orders. Young swore he could feel the ship slow, but knew that should be impossible. It dropped out of warp and he watched it slow and then hold steady.

”Let’s go to bed Lieutenant,” the Doctor said.

“I can make it to me room on my own,” he protested as the Romulan woman guided him towards the corridor.

”Sure, but I’ve been tasked, nay ordered to take your mind off work and that’s what I’m going to do,” she said.

Not wanting to back down from a challenge, even if it was to remain thinking about work when he had been specifically ordered not to, he said definitely, “Then you’ll have to sedate me.”

T’Rala rolled her eyes, “Or I could just…”

She whispered what she was going to do in his ear causing him to blush as they went down the corridor to his room.

”How about you and Jara? I thought you and her did… that,” he protested.

”That’s the medically wonderful thing about being single and bi-sexual. Now stop being a prude or jealous, and come with me,” she said, refusing to play down her physical moment weeks ago with the Strategic Operations Lieutenant, “Or I will sedate you and you’ll wake up in sick bay strapped to a bed.”

”Don’t you have patients, or work,” he said.

”Yes, you, now you kissed me remember,” she pointed out, “so make up your mind, are we just friends or what?”

They had taken a turbolift and reached his quarter. He was tired, but she was alluring in her way. Vulcan like, but also so human. Why did she seem to like him, that was a question he could not answer and had the feeling he was not tonight. He could smell her, clean and yet a hint of vanilla which must be a trait she’d taken from her adopted family. Shampoo or soap or something.

The door to his room opened.

”Come in,“ he said and they stepped in, and kissed again. 

With his eyes closed her almost missed the distinactive hiss of the hypospray. She’d tricked him! He felt tired, more than he had and then blackness claimed him.

James Young woke up naked except for his boxers. T’Rala was watching him from a chair. He was in his bed under the covers. He sat up, “You undressed me that’s a violation.”

”Is it, it was medically needed,” she said, “maybe even vital. Besides you agreed to a lot more than that.”

Young yawned, three hours sleep had not been enough to catch up on the amount that he missed out on, but it was something. He suppose as unconventional as the doctor’s approach was it had gotten him the rest that the Commander ordered. Going to his closet he got out a crisp and clean uniform and began to put it on as T’Rala watched. 

She then got out of the chair and crossed the room to him putting her hands on his chest she leaned in to kiss him without warning. Smiling once the kiss had ended the made a promise laden with innuendo, “I can administer more attention to you once you get that warp core online and save us all from certain assimilation.”

The doctor winked and exited his bedroom, leaving him to finish dressing and then make his way to engineering where his team was reassembling the warp core after taking it offline. New isolinear chips had been slotted into the controls, and things were ready to go.

Ensign Constable was already slotting in dilIthium crystals. 

”How was Doctor T’Rala?” Constable asked coming over to him as the crew worked.

”Good I guess, it’s hard to tell with her,” Young confessed.

”I like her, she gives you crap which you deserve. One of the most fun people on this ship,” Constable said.

Young grunted, not wanting to talk about the situation with anyone but certainly not with the person second most likely to ‘give him crap’ Ensign Constable. Once everything was back in place he began the activation code, waiting for the computer to reboot the engine and bring it online.

Instead all that happened was the ship fell dark.

”Oh that’s not good,” Constable said helpfully.

—- Bridge —-

With no power the bride sat in relative darkness, illuminated by flashlight and some emergency lighting around the doors. The Captain had to dress in near darkness, and he and the First Officer were joined by most of the rest of the senior crew to discuss their situation with Chief Engineer Young being absent as he was working on getting the ship going.

“The Borg were still outside of sensor range before we lost power,” Lieutenant Commander Th’kaotross said, “I assume they are continuing on their previous speed which would put them two hours away now.”

Pr’Nor shook her head, “Once we stopped I’d assume they cut their speed. Warp nine point nine is hard, even for Borg engines. If we’re not running they’re not running as fast, plus they have to think we’re setting a trap. Rushing in would be an illogical move.”

”We can’t count on the bastards slowing down,” Captain Hawthorne said.

”What’s our plan for fight off a boarding party,” Commander Cruz asked Th’kaotross.

”Without power we can’t see them when they arrive,” he pointed out, “and communication is affected. Assuming they follow previous pre-Fleet Day strategies we fight them, deck by deck, but getting everyone armed is going to be hard since you can’t make a ship wide announcement.”

Jara said, “We doubt the Borg has another Fleet Day like trick up their sleeve. I’d look at one on one combat, though they outnumber us by like one hundred to one.”

”Which brings up, the crew is obviously very anxious about the Borg. Before we lost power they were worried, now they’re on the verge of full blown panic,” Lieutenant Kolem the half-Betazoid said.

”Giving a bunch of scared people guns in the dark doesn’t seem safe,” Lieutenant Dorian said.

They all knew that if Young didn’t get them back online, they had no chance. Everything else they were doing was just, resistance for the sake of resistance. A few more minutes before they joined the collective.

—- Nine Forward, Lounge —-

“We’re screwed, dead,” Lieutenant Junior Grade Thomas Winfield was saying. He was pretty sure any moment he’d see a Borg cube outside the window and next thing he knew a Borg would be turning him into one of them, again. It was not something he was looking forward to.

Lieutenant Maria Cortez shrugged, “Last day as a human I guess.”

”You’re the Borg girl, you’re like those girls in the twenthieth century that wanted to turn into vampires. Bite my neck Dracula, that sort of thing. Hume told me about you,” Winfield said, not that he got up and changed tables. Sure the woman was freaky, but so was everyone in their own way.

”Maybe I would have been. Vampire seems fun, you live forever, turn into a bat, what’s wrong with that?” she asked.

”But Borg,” Winfield said.

Cortez sighed, illuminated by only flashlights and the odd emergency light they had had to break into the stock behind the bar, which was getting them actually drunk. Probably not good in a life of death situation, but both of them were off duty, and if they were going to be killed might as well do it drunk.

”Logical like a Vulcan, strong like a Klingon,” Cortez said.

”Humans are good, we have passion and feelings, and eat food,” Winfield said.

”Drink drunks,“ Cortez agreed.

”Drink drunks. See you get it,” Winfield said.

”I’m a vampire can I bite your neck?” she asked.

”Are you a vampire. I think the transporter would have caught that,” Winfield said.

”Come over here and find out how accurate that is,” Cortez crooked a finger.

”You’re drunk,” Winfield said.

”So are you,” Cortez responded.

”Okay, fair point,” Winfield said.

”We should sleep it off together,” Cortez said and then bite his neck. 

Winfield rubbed his neck, she hadn’t broken the skin, but the area still stung from the attempt, “Okay but no more biting, that wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be.”

—- Engineering —-

Lieutenant Young was panicking. He’d reset everything and was doing it for a third time now. The ship had life support and gravity, but not main power which was making everything hard now. The engines should have been up, but they weren’t and they were sitting ducks for the Borg.

”You don’t actually think this is because you and T’Rala had fun last night,” Engsign Constable said as she crawled out from under a console. 

The look that the Chief Engineer gave his assistant showed that he very much did, although he could not think of a corollary reason. The two obviously were not connected, but he took his eye off the ball for twenty seconds and then, “We didn’t even have fun as you put it. She just drugged me to sleep and then I woke up and broke the ship.”

”Maybe you should have had fun,” Constable said.

Young ignored her. 

“She’s a hot Romulan why don’t you?” she asked.

”I’m not interested in flings. I want something more serious than she’s offering. You’re the one who told me about her and Jara,” Young said replacing a handful of isolear chips.

“Well look she’s not married, neither of them are. You can’t blame someone for having fun with another if you’re not involved,” Constable said.

”I just want to marry someone and T’Rala seems very much not it,” he said.

”You’re such a man,” Constable mocked him, “you just want a wife who’d going to have the replicator make you steak every night at six, so you can read the news feed.”

”That’s not what I want,” protested Young, “Adjust the output on that by ten degrees.”

Constable did as instructed, “Well then give in, take her out. On a date. You do and I’ll fix the ship.”

“Fine, if you can fix this I’ll go on a date with her,” Young said.

”Oh I’ve fixed it three minutes ago,” Constable said, she hit a console and suddenly the ship came to life, power restored. 

“What, how?” Young asked.

”We had to shut down and redo the ignition sequence, with routing the power through these new dilithum crystals, so we didn’t overwhelm the system,” she said, “but let’s not shut down the engines again until we’re at a starbase okay.”

Young sighed, “Fine, okay. And yes, I’ll keep my word.”

—- Bridge —-

The lights came back. 

“How far are the Borg,” Hawthorne asked. 

Th’kaotross looked at his restored conn, “And hour away, maybe. Going at warp six.”

Hawthorne tapped his badge, “What can you give me Young.”

”Not top speed. We need to stay under warp eight if you can. I still have to solidify everything, make sure we’re running properly, and there’s no more surprises,” Young replied over the comm.

”Good, send me the report and check everything over and then take some time off,” Hawthorne said “You need a break. Lieutenant Pr’Nor warp eight, away from the Borg please.”

”Sir,” the Vulcan said as she took the ship into warp, away from the Borg as requested.

—- Chief Counselor’s Quarters —-

“I remember it all,” Kolem said as she lay on Hume, her head against his chest.

”The whole thing?” he asked surprised. He only had brief glimpses of his time as a Borg on Fleet Day. Hearing that Kolem remembered it all was shocking.

”I killed a Lieutenant Commander,“ she said, “I remember aiming at him and squeezing the trigger and seeing him drop.“

”I’m sorry,” Hume ran his hand through her hair.

”I’m terrified of going back, of them catching us,” Kolem said.

”They won’t, we have warp again,” Hume assured her, knowing that no promises could be made but making them anyway.

”Do you know what killing someone is like as an Empath?” she asked.

”No,” Hume said.

”I felt him die, his consciousness leaving. A full Betazoid, maybe they were assimilated fully, but the Borg virus didn’t know what to do with my mongrel blood,” she said.

 “Hey, you’re not a mongrel. You’re perfect,” Hume said, pulling her up so he could look into her eyes.

Kolem sighed and leaned against his shoulder, “I don’t usually feel that way. But thank you.“

”I‘m always here for you,” he said.

—- Bridge ——

Captain Nathanial Hawthorne was not happy. The Borg had made up a lot of ground as the ship had been powerless and now while they had not increased speed past the warp eight that the USS Seattle was doing, they were still only an hour or two behind. It was too close in his book, but he knew better than to push either his engines or his engineers any more than that. Lieutenant Young had basically been awake since they had begun this chase, and he was pretty sure another stint at warp nine-point-nine would kill both the engines and his people.

”We could load a shuttle full or photon torpedoes and aim it at them,” he suggested to his Bridge Crew present.

”It’s been tried,” Commander Cruz said.

”Right now the Borg seem satisfied keeping up with us, without straining to close the gap,” his Chief Security Officer Kan Th’kaotross said. The large Andorian man looking serious, “If they view us as a threat that may change.”

Lieutenant Eleanor Dorian nodded in agreement, the Strategic Operations Chief adding, “Right now they see us more like a platform transporting these transponders. If we are antagonistic they could easily catch us and…”

She made an exploding sound with her mouth, and mimed an exploding gesture with her hands to show that the Borg would finish off the USS Seattle fairly easily if they wished to. Neither woman in the Strategic Operations department had been able to give a concrete reason why the Borg had not done so yet, other than they USS Seattle was not a threat to them, or their transponders.

”Speaking of which we’re going to need to ditch those pretty soon,” he observed, tapping his commbadge he radioed his Chief Science Officer who was down in Cargo Bay 1 studying them, “What do you have Lieutenant Debub?”

The voice came through the badge, “Nothing really. We sent all the findings off to Starfleet but in isolation they’re just transponders. Maybe someone smarter than us can see something worth this trip for the Borg.”

”Alright Lieutenant, get them loaded onto a shuttle, we’ll be needing them off this ship soon,” Hawthorne ordered.

—- Sickbay —-

Lieutenant Young entered the sickbay. He nodded at Chief Medical Officer Va’Tok, who approached him, “What may I do go you Lieutenant?”

Young smiled at the Vulcan, “Is Lieutenant T’Rala here? I want to see her.”

”She is, but may I help. I am the superior medical professional,” Doctor Va’Tok observed.

”Umm, well I kissed her and, so…” Young trailed off.

”Hmm, well I do not provide that service, but I am still capable of medical tasks, however if you would prefer Doctor T’Rala she is that way,” Va’Tok said, his head inclining slightly to show well whatever it was that he was passing off as a logical conundrum instead of the amusement he so clearly felt.

Young nodded, “Thank you.”

Young made his was to the back of Sickbay where Doctor T’Rala was organizing medicines. She smiled at him as he approached.

”Va’Tok scares me sometimes,” Young said.

”Hmm, you know I heard all that at the door,“ she said gesturing to her Romulan ears, ”Which means…”

”I can still hear you Lieutenant,” Va’Tok said his voice carrying from the front of the medical area.

”Romulans and Vulcans, however we may be different, we both have good hearing,” T’Rala said.

“Do you like work on this double act together,” Young said.

”I would ask the same of you and Ensign Constable,“ T’Rala observed, “You are quite the pair of engineers.”

”Both illogical humans,” Va’Tok said replacing some PADDs.

”Is this how you two flirt,” Young asked.

”I would not flirt. Not with her at least,” Va’Tok observed.

”Well I wouldn’t flirt with you, you pedantic Vulcan,” T’Rala said.

”And you are an emotional and illogical Romulan, more aesthetically pleasing than a human perhaps, but not much else,” Va’Tok said.

”He called me aesthetically pleasing,“ T’Rala said, “it’s basically true love.”

”Only compared with a human,” Va’Tok said.

”Hey,” Young protested, “Humans are fine.”

”Yes they are simple acceptable,” Va’Tok agreed.

Young had not meant it that was but he decided to ignore whatever weird Romulan / Vulcan rivalry the two doctors had running and focus on what he had come down here for. Having decided to ignore Va’Tok, and the clear enjoyment, if such thing was possible from a Vulcan, that the situation that the human found himself in.

Young sighed, and tried to vocalize what he wanted, ignoring the Chief Medical Officer tinkering about on the other side of sickbay.

“Look T’Rala, would you go out with me,” Young said, “Like on a date.”

”What brought this on?” T’Rala asked.

”Ensign Constable blackmailed me,” Young admitted.

T’Rala shrugged, “I always thought out of the two of you she had the most sense.”

Va’Tok nodded, “That is a logical observation.”

”You’re supposed to be my friend,” Young said to Va’Tok.

”I am engaging in the human activity of taking your ribs. Doctor T’Rala is teaching me bedside manner,” Doctor Va’Tok said.

”Ribbing, not taking my ribs. Plus you’re being insulting not funny,” Young said.

Va’Tok nodded, “Then I apologize, I meant only to produce mirth and levity.”

”Just be yourself,” Young said, “I liked Vulcan Va’Tok better than this standup comedian.”

Va’Tok nodded, but almost seemed hurt by the assessment, though that should not be possible, given the Vulcan aversion to any emotion. He turned away from the other two and continued to replace PADDs with fully charged ones as the two were allowed to talk alone now.

”You made him moody,” T’Rala said, grinning.

”I didn’t mean to,” Young protested.

”I liked it,” T’Rala said, “Almost as much as when you said an Ensign forced you to date me.”

”I, that’s not what I meant. She pushed me, to get over myself,” Young protested.

The Romulan doctor studied him, “Well you do need to get over yourself.”

”So will you go on a date with me, and not just pretend to make out with me so you can drug me,” Young said.

T’Rala smiled, “That was my medical duty, I was just following orders.”

”So that’s a yes,” Young pressed.

”Okay, 19:00 hours we’ll start at the lounge,” T’Rala said.

—- Fitness Room A ——

Lieutenant Commander Th’kaotross replaced the free weight and stepped onto the treadmill. He worked out after all most all of his shifts. He did not have anything better to do, and there was a point in staying fit. The Borg was an hour away, in theory, and while he knew it was not as if he could punch the Borg away, at least it occupied his mind and allowed him to blow off steam.

Starting up the treadmill next to him was Lieutenant Eleanore Dorian she nodded and the Strategic Operations Chief started running herself. Though lighter she was likely faster than him, not burdened with so much muscle, but then she couldn’t punch the Borg away either.

”You’re quite fit, you know,” Dorian finally said, leaning over to say it, as if it were a secret.

”I am,” agreed Th’kaotross.

“It’s a double meaning. Meaning you’re fit, but also you’re fit you know,” Dorian said.

”I do not know,” Th’kaotross thought this was likely a dumb human thing. He was right.

”It means like I fancy you,” Dorian said, “it’s slang where I’m from.”

”Earth?”

“No,” Dorian said, “Ireland.“

”Is that on Earth?” Th’kaotross asked.

Nodding at the Andorian Dorian admitted that yes, Ireland was on the Earth.

“I have tried dating human women, it has not been successful,” he said.

”I don’t know why. We pull too hard on the ears?” Dorian teased.

”They are not ears,” Th’kaotross said annoyed a bit at the suggestion, though anyone in any position of influence in Starfleet let alone a Lieutenant would know that they were not ears. Hell he had visible ears on his head alongside his antennas.

”I know that,” she said.

He was silent for a long time, “Given that we are likely to die shortly, I will admit that you are also fit. In an appropriately human female way.”

“Given that we’re all going to die,” Dorian said, nodding at the exit door.

”Agreed,” Th’kaotross said stopping his treadmill.

—- Captain’s Quarters —-

“Why don’t you just move in here?” Hawthorne asked.

Adriana Cruz stretched and looked out the window, “My cabin has a better view. Besides we’re not married, I need my own space.”

”We could,” Hawthorne suggested.

Cruz shook her head emphatically, “I’m not marrying you. We’re just, ports in a storm.”

”We can’t both be ports in a storm,” Hawthorne observed lying on his bed In his underclothes.

Cruz shook her head, “You know what I mean. I’ll be a Captain one day, and have my own ship, not on yours. Then we’ll go our own way.”

Hawthorne nodded. That did sound like the most rational reason, and the most likely outcome of all of this. He knew that Cruz was too good to be true. Much younger and clearly highly valued by Starfleet, she was why they’d gotten the USS Seattle when the USS Anaheim had been broken and forced into repair. Though he had not confirmation of that fact, he strongly suspected it.

”I don’t think I can do someone, after you. I mean date, not in the dirty way. It’s just, you don’t meet a lot of people as a Captain and I can’t date my next First Officer, that’s a pattern,” he said.

”You know saying things like you’ll never date again makes you sound old and desperate,” Cruz said.

”Old and desperate for you maybe,” Hawthorne laughed, throwing a pillow at her.

Climbing on the bed Cruz kissed him, “Look, marriage isn’t on deck, but I still care for you. I love you Nathan.”

”Love?” he asked, and she realized that she’d slipped up.

”Well, what I meant was,” Cruz began.

”Shhh, I love you too,” he said and kissed her back.

—- Observation Lounge —-

Personal Log – Lieutenant Commander Tashai

I don’t know how long it is going to take me to get bored of space, of traveling at warp speed. I suppose after a few thousand years it’s not meant to be as interesting, but it still is. I could sit here, watching worlds drift by for centuries. Maybe I will one day. When the Borg came that’s when I really learned that things end. Us El-AurIans don’t quite get the concept of endings, not the way humans do. But when the Borg came, well there was a finality to that, they changed out world, our lives and scattered us through the galaxy. I’d never met a human before that, or anyone other than my own people. Now they’re all I know, as we’re a rare breed as they say. 

Now the Borg have found us. Found humanity, found Vulcans and Klingons, and nobody is safe anymore. They taught me about finality, but I wonder if they also taught me about inevitability. Delay, fight, resist, all that. Eventually they seem to always come out on top. I thought it was all over on Fleet Day. I was on the USS Victory when most of the crew was converted. I’d accepted it then, that this was it. 

Now who knows. I’m on a ship being chased by a Cube. They are close by, another engine problem and they’re marching through our corridors. Putting their cold and clammy hand on my shoulder. Resistance is futile, so is it seems running. Now I have a life again, someone I care about and losing it and losing her. I don’t want to spend my life as a drone, I like this freedom. To watch the stars and the worlds go by.

—- Chief Counselor’s Office ——

Personal Log – Lieutenant Yuhiro Kolem

I suppose it all starts with my father dying early, at least that is what Feud might say. My mother never really knew how I could be, or who I was. My first name is the name of a Japanese restaurant back on Mars when I was young, and she gave it to my because it sounded exotic, like a Betazoid should be. My father, who was Betazoid, died before I really understood what the differences between me and other people on Mars where. He never really showed me what it meant to be half of him, half of his people, and that gets complicated at times. 

William, is interested in weddings now. I mention this because I can feel it, his interest increasing when someone mentions and engagement back home or what we see a holo from one of his friends where they got engaged. It seems so traditional, and pointless. Weddings. I always thought I’d got through a phase where I dated an older many (or woman really) from Betazed and learned more about the other half of my culture. We’re still young, and I don’t want to tie myself to William forever just because he asks me to one day. 

Yes he makes me happy. Yes maybe with the Borg chasing us I should be happy with being happy, satisfied with what Hume offers, but I don’t know. He’s very human, and decent and normal and boring. I don’t really see myself as those things, if I did I’d be on one of Earth’s colonies taking kids to school and complaining whatever happy homemakers complain about. 

—- Bridge —

“What do you expect me to just jot down all my feelings,” Lieutenant Jara asked.

”That’s what personal logs are for,” Lieutenant Junior Grade Thomas Winfield said.

Sitting in the Captain’s chair as she was the most senior officer on the bridge Jara considered that, then decided not to consider it. She felt that there was nothing really to be gained from exploring her pain, she knew where it came from and how it had gotten to the level it was at. She was from Turkana IV, and that factor was all the biography anyone needed on her. If they had not heard of it, and did not understand what it represented then that was there problem or rather their blessing.

“You know with the Borg Cube and…” Winfield began. 

“I’m tired of hearing how the Borg are going to kill us,” Jara snapped, “You’re our pilot, you’ll fly us somewhere safe. I’m a Strategic Operations Officer, I’ll strat ops something. Everyone’s walking around like this is the end of everything, when if the Borg wanted us dead they’d have done it by now.”

That was, she knew the truth. The Borg had gained on them, cutting their lead down to two hours (maybe), but they could have caught them by now. There had been almost an entire day the USS Seattle had been powerless and the Borg had dropped to warp five at that point. Watching and waiting but not attacking.

”I guess people just see this as a clarifying moment,” Winfield said, “And find writing helps.”

”Yeah well it’s nonsense,” Jara said, “or at least not for me. And if we die they’re going to look at metrics and statistic, not what Ensign so-and-so thought of their linguini on their last night.”

Winfield did another scan of the area, the Borg Cube was still behind them, matching their speed. They were still traveling farther and father away from explored space, hoping to drive the Borg vessel away from inhabited planets, with no way back. As a pilot there was not a lot to do, ensure they were on course, were not losing ground to the Borg, and were not flying into anything that may be in the USS Seattle’s way, though given how vastly empty space was that seemed quite unlikely.

He wished that there was more to do, so he did not have to engage with Lieutenant Jara and her evident dislike of journals and logs.

—- Cargo Bay 1 ——

Personal Log – Lieutenant Commander Gabriella Miller

It’s times like this that I should have grown wine. I like it, I liked life on vineyards. I like getting drunker than I should and flirting with attractive looking men with dirt under their finger nails from digging around in the ground all day. Here I am though, an officer on a  mid-level ship that left behind her love of grapes to catalouge Borg technology. Each piece of technology I box up for transport off the ship is protecting us, but it’s not botany, not what I went to school for or what I dream about. I want to love life, not be assimilated because years ago someone stole a bunch of Borg tech from drones that now we have to try getting rid of without the Borg attacking us. 

I don’t know how this ends, or if I end up talking to the computer alone in the cargo bay while I work anymore, but it seems like this mission is vital. Protecting people is noble, but so is getting people drunk by making the best wine possible. I could be doing that.

I’m not sure why science ended up shouldering this other than there’s a lot of us. Yet here we are, or rather I am, putting old Borg transponders into boxes and putting filled boxes into the shuttle that is named after some old Seattle thing from Earth I figure. What’s a ’Soundgaden’ and why should that, Nirvana, Peal Jam and Mudhoney be the names of our shuttles?

I just want to be a botanist, not a space adventurer. Meeting new plants would be interesting, but so far this ship had just dealt with god like aliens, and now the Borg. I should find a Starbase and return to my research. Something tragically unhip, specifically unsexy.

—- Holodeck 1 ——

Commander Cruz looked up the deck at the Captain who was being a Captain. She realized that she should have guessed that his ‘play’ would have been nautical. The man liked being a Captain, it was basically all he had going for him, other than fussy coffee and the fact that she was dating him. 

For some reason.

Her own “costume” was a pretty revealing ‘Pirate Queen’ combination that he had assured her was historically accurate though in Cruz’s mind historically accurate was probably that the women folk stayed home and milked cows or something vital but unexciting. History often forgot the women, over and over again. At least until they had begun demanding that they were included and got to have as vital a role as men.

”You have a ship,” she shouted down the deck to him where he stood behind the big wheel thing, “Why do you need this one too?”

“This is a classic Royal Navy ship, hunting pirates,” Captain Nathanial Hawthorne said.

”I thought I was a pirate Queen,” Cruz protested.

”Spoils of victory. I won you, you and your booty are my booty,” he said.

Cruz swore at him in Spanish. Normally she had more measured respect for her senior officers, but the Captain and her had almost instantly had a complicated and deep history. They had had a fling before they had known her assignment and since then had been exploring what that meant, and how to best handle the feelings between them. He had, to his credit, never treated her like his First Officer and his subordinate, allowing her to swear at him in Spanish. 

He did not know Spanish but the Universal Translator did. It relayed her complaints to him, and he looked at her slightly embarrassed. He did not like to think of himself as being ‘old school’ but compared with his much younger First Officer he often was. Particular in his love of all things old Earth boats.

“Men like you find all this fun don’t you?” Cruz said.

”Men like me?” Hawthorne asked.

”Captains always look like you, Picard, Archer, Kirk, Pike,” she listed, “So for fun you go back to a time when all Captains looked like you. When people like me were just chased off our land fun or gold.”

”You’re Spanish,” he said.

”Mexican, and a woman,” she pointed out accurately.

Hawthorne signed, “On Fleet Day I locked myself in my quarters on the Anaheim. Most of the crew were young and transformed on me, and I hid and was not a brave hero. My first time to step up, and be the Captain I always imagined myself to be and I was useless. So yes, I like playing at being more than useless. I like simulating situations I can be the hero. I wanted you here, because I like you and wanted you around. You liked that dumb spy story too.”

Adriana Cruz sighed, how to best explain it. Spy stories were fiction, adventures. While there fictional stories of pirates it was people who looked like Hawthorne riding boats like this that had come across the ocean to enslave her ancestors.Sure there was colonists blood in her, but that usually meant something far worse.

Still he saw it as a dumb little way to have fun, and it was not worth fighting nineteenth century fights when there were twenty-fifth century fights still to be fought. Besides for all his obliviousness to what it was being anything other than a straight white man, he did listen and he was trying. Nobody was perfect but sometimes simply being better than you were the day before was enough.

”Okay, then I’ll be your pirate queen, but you tell nobody I did this for you,” Cruz said, “and especially not about this costume.”

”Ma’am. Can I speak to the Captain,” Lieutenant Junior Grade William Hume asked, standing behind her trying desperately not to look away from her face. He looked very nervous doing so.

Cruz threw her hands in the air, and again swore in Spanish which the computer helpfully (or not) translated. She turned and stomped out of the holodeck, as an archway had been created by Hume’s entry. As she crossed the threshold into the main part of the ship her Starfleet uniform replaced the pirate queen one that Hawthorne had designed.

”Well now Hume what can I do for you, and do you know knots?” Hawthorne asked, as the archway faded and vanished. As far as the Captain was concerned they were on the high seas and pirates were about. Unless the Borg were going to board the USS Seattle and assimilate everyone, he was taking his time off.

—- Holodeck 1 ——

Hume watched Commander Cruz leave in a cloud of (not literal) Spanish language curses and was left alone with the Captain who was still dressed as a British Naval Captain from the age of the sailing ship and pirates. The Captain waved Hume up to the giant wheel which he used to steer the holographic ship in order to better talk without yelling at each other.

”Do you know knots, you look like someone who knows knots,” Hawthorne asked and pointed at some thick rope, “Tie that sail up if you do.”

Lieutenant Junior Grade Hume nodded, and began to tie the sail as directed.

”What’s on your mind?” Hawthorne asked, steering the simulated ship.

Hume continued working on the rope and answered, “Well sir I’m been thinking of asking Lieutenant Kolem to marry me and since you know us both I wanted to get your advice.”

Hawthorne nodded. Hume stuck him like himself, as a sensible traditional guy. Open perhaps to change but comfortable in the world where maybe being like them demographically was an advantage. Like Hawthorne, he was probably too comfortable in his privilege. To use a term of art that roughly translated into what Cruz had said louder and in Spanish.

”Because clearly I know women,” Hawthorne joked.

Hume glanced back at the disappeared arc, not knowing what the senior officers had been fighting about. No human relationships were easy, and he did not want to get involved in a fight between the USS Seattle’s Captain and its First Officer regardless of what it was about. 

“I don’t know about that,” he said.

”You know she’s right,” Hawthorne said, “Cruz, not Kolem. Well she’s probably right about something too. Cruz though pointed out how insulting it is that in my free time I want to play Captain, when it’s just easy for me to play whatever I want because throughout history we’ve been the winners. Guys like you and me. You know.”

Hume, certainly did not feel like a winner but then again he knew what the suggestion was. He nodded, wanting very much to agree with the Captain. Getting to agree with the First Officer too was an added bonus.

”I think Hume you should definitely not listen to me,” Hawthorne said, “I know Kolem has no father and you think that I’m some surrogate for her, but I’m not. I’ve never been a father figure for her, or anyone. I just fly a ship for work. Kolem and you just work on it.“

Hume nodded as he tied, he understood that, but Hawthorne was an authority figure and without Kolem having a father to ask if he could marry her, having one of the other ‘adults’ in her life made sense to him but then when Hawthorne explained it he also understood that this was not a role that Hawthorne had taken on. He just felt like a ship was a kind of family, and that meant that Hawthorne was sort of like the father they all had.

”Who do I ask for advice then,” William Hume asked finishing off tying on the sail as asked.

”Ask around, but don’t think anyone knows what you should do more than you. Besides Kolem seems, emotionally stable,” Hawthorne said, “Grounded maybe is a better word. I think she’s who you should talk to since she’s the other person in this equation.”

Hume nodded, “Okay, you’re right.”

”Of course I am, I work in a space ship,” Hawthorne joked, “My one piece of advice is that don’t let this situation with the Borg change your plan either way. It’s temporary, and you don’t want to be making big important life decisions because of what the Borg are up to. We have one of the fastest ships around, we’ll get away. Got it.”

Hume nodded, “I think so sir, thank you.”

—- Conference Room 1 ——

The Senior Staff had assembled to hear the plan that Strategic Operations had developed for their current situation of being chased down by a Borg Cube. They settled in their chairs around the conference table while Lieutenant Eleanor Dorian put a map up with the region of space they were in. Given that this was unexplored it was mostly empty, filled only by rough sketches that Starfleet had gotten from traders and various no–affiliated sources. 

“Coming up is a system that interests us, based on reports. It’s a system with binary stars, an astroid belt and an uninhabited moon roughly here,” she indicated a dot on the map. He thick Irish accent felt thicker now to her listeners as she indicated just how they would survive, “About two days from now we go to warp nine-point-nine. This should increase our lead on the Borg slightly. We stop at this moon, fly the transponders down with the Soundgarden and then we position ourselves in the astroid belt.”

Lieutenant Claudia Jara was her Assistant and took over, “The astroid belt gives off various radiations that will hide a ship, as long as we cut power. The Borg should be unable to see us. We wait until they leave, and then we start heading home.”

”What’s Starfleet say,” asked Lieutenant Debub, the Chief Science Officer.

”We have reached the point where communication with Starfleet is no longer possible due to the vast distance between us,” Dorian said “Messages will take about a week to arrive, two way communication is not feasible at this juncture.”

”Whoever is dropping off the transponders is going to have to hurry, the Borg are only about an hour back,” Th’kaotross said, the Andorian Chief of Security knowing just how close the Borg were at all times now.

”We hope Pr’Nor can buy us some time when we got to warp nine-poin-nine,” Dorian said, “But yes, there is a chance that the Soundgarden is lost. And its crew.”

Captain Hawthorne nodded, “I’ll accompany the Soundgarden and the away team. We’ll unload fast.”

Commander Cruz objected, “Sir, you can’t, you’re the Captain.”

”Starfleet is out of communication range, I can,” Hawthorne said, “I’m not risking crew lives while I hide in an asteroid belt. We’ll be quick we won’t even see the Borg. Debub, your team will handle this. Brief them and get them ready.”

Cruz shot him a look that said this conversation was not over, but did not want to argue in front of the crew. Hawthorne hearing no more questions clapped his hands, “Okay that’s the plan, we’ll get ready for the leap to warp nine-poin-nine in two days, Young you’re on that.”

”Sir,” the Chief Engineer nodded, not quite happy that his engines were again being pushed to their limits, but knowing that this was a good plan, and not just running helter skelter away from the Borg.

—- Ready Room ——

“Coffee?” Captain Nathanial Hawthorne asked his first Officer as they entered the Captain’s Ready Room. He went over to his counter to grind some beans, a deliberately old fashioned act that drove Cruz crazy when perfectly good coffee was available from the replicators at any time.

The door slid closed, and Cruz did not try to hide her annoyance with him. She’d never had a captain that she’d been freer to tell him what she thought of his ideas, including the very bad ones and him racing out to deliver transponders with the Borg also racing to get them was a very bad idea.

”I don’t want your dumb coffee,” she said, “I want you alive. What are you going to do, play the hero and leave me and the rest of the crew standard out here because you got yourself assimilated?”

”Maybe you were right in the Holodeck, the universe has enough Captains like me. It needs more like you,” Hawthorne said.

”Oh stop feeling sorry that your girlfriend got mad at you over your games,” she said, “I didn’t mean for you to immediately run off and be killed by the Borg. Just don’t play a colonizer on the holodeck Captain Cook.”

”He discovered Hawaii,” Hawthorne pointed out.

”He did,” Cruz said, “And the Hawaiian people living there who were surprised to be discovered.”

”We should go to Hawaii, next shore leave, it’s nice,” Hawthorne said stepping towards Cruz who in turn stepped towards him until their toes were touching.

”Don’t try changing the subject,” she said.

”Say yes, we’ll go to Hawaii and then I’ll be extra sure now to get assimilated,” Hawthorne said, “But I’m going down with Lieutenant Debub and what’s her name and whose their pickle.”

”We have ninety-two crew members, you should work on learning names,” Cruz said, “And I feel like you’re getting both your ways here.”

”I am, but then I’m the Captain,” Hawthorne said and then pulled her the remaining inches to him.

Cruz kissed him, she knew that he’d made up his mind. That no matter what she tried he felt that this was how he made up for Fleet Day and being a coward then. It was the Borg again, and it was either Hawthorne or someone else and if she was rational about it Hawthorne was the only crew member who could be replaced.

—- Nine Forward, Lounge —-

Lieutenant James Young entered the lounge looking for his date. They had agreed to meet at the lounge since it was hard to capture everything about a regular date here on such a small ship. Walking from her quarters did not feel the same, and this hopefully caught some of the anticipation and novelty of having a real date in a real location that was not one of three or four places he always went.

Doctor T’Rala was wearing a dress that likely was too fancy for the occasion, but caught his eye. He smiled, blushed and then walked over.

“You look nice,“ the Romulan said.

”I had to replicate a suit, I haven’t worn one for years. A uniform usually is enough,” Young said. The Starfleet Uniform had enough variations that civilian clothing was not needed. He’d only really gone with a suit because T’Rala had mentioned that she was wearing a dress tonight and he did not want to be on the wrong foot. Though given how amazing her dress looked he felt that he was anyway.

”How was work?” he asked.

”Fine. Va’Tok was lecturing me on the mating rituals of illogical species. He seems to think the USS Seattle is the horniest ship in the fleet,” she smiled.

”We’re young, almost all of us. We’re risking our lives and we’re not with families, it’s natural,” Young said.

Mimicking her Vulcan Chief Medical Officer T’Rala raised an eyebrow, “That is logical.”

“I feel like this tie is chocking me to death,” Young said.

”Maybe it is, what away to go. You survive the Borg and a tie gets you,” T’Rala said.

Young smiled, “Okay I’ll settle down, I promise.”

—- Shuttle Bay 1 —-

The four suited figures moved out of the Soundgarden one of the shuttle craft of the USS Seattle and began to unload the boxes. In the bulky environmental suit their actions had to be slower, deliberate and careful. Watching them, wearing the standard Starfleet uniform, was Commander Adriana Cruz who was not a fan of the Captain being one of the suited figures or going on the actual mission. Out in space they’d have to adjust for a lower gravity, darkness and even in the ideal conditions of the shuttle bay they were running short on time. While it was the best plan that they had, it was shaping up very much to be a suicide mission.

The Borg were about half an hour behind them. The jump to warp nine-point-nine had not bought them any breathing space and as if bored of this cat and mouse game the Borg where slowly advancing. Not only that they were moving quickly past any relevant star charts that they had in their computer databases, and contact with the Federation was becoming a problem. Orders could not be received in real-time, and only messages with days of delay could be sent. They were very much on their own, which annoyed the XO that the Captain was using this as a chance to play hero. 

“Okay load it back up,” Captain Hawthorne said as he removed his helmet. The three science officers nodded and began to repack the Soundgarden.

”Sir,“ Cruz said hoping to appeal to his supposed by-the-book nature, “Again I’m appealing to you, let someone else do this. The crew is going to need its Captain to get back home.”

Hawthorne smiled, “Look Adriana, you’re a better Captain than I‘ve been. You’ll get them home. You ask me who I want on that mission, you or me, it’s going to be me. You’re at the start of an amazing part of your career, I”m an old guy they keep around because I look good in meetings.”

Cruz knew he was being stupidly male because of their feelings and relationship, going on the mission to keep his First Officer off of it. It was his prerogative, and it was not like famous captain biographies weren’t filled with stories about the times they went on away missions against Starfleet protocol. It was one of the most bent and breakable rules in the fleet.

The mission was simple enough. Take the Soundgarden down to an asteroid unload some Borg transponders and then hide in a radiation field created by binary stars. The question was whether or not the Soundgarden and its crew could get back to the Seattle in time.

Lieutenant Waushborn Debub the Chief Science Officer patted Hawthorne on the back, still in his own suit, “Don’t worry Commander we’ll take good care of him.”

Cruz smiled but looked daggers at Debub, “Thank you Lieutenant.”

Debub seemed to want to add ‘your boyfiend’ but had gone with ‘him’ instead. He did not seem to realize that he was talking about the ship’s Captain, though of course he knew that. Maybe though, she was just on edge, seeing slights were there was none to see. 

“I’m going to go see if I can get you locked up in sickbay for being insane,” Cruz said, and left the shuttle bay. The Captain smiled and shook his head. He knew that Cruz was going to have a problem with this, and he did not blame her but when he thought of her in his spot, well to him there was no choice.

—- Chief Counselor’s Office ——

“It’s very mature that you recognize your external conflicts over this decision of the Captain’s,” Lieutenant Kolem said. She was not about to intercede in the Captain’s decision however, much to the chagrin of Cruz. 

“You sure you can’t do anything,” Cruz asked.

“No, I’m sorry. Look you care for the Captain, and he cares for you. That’s going to cause these tensions and that’s natural on a close knit starship even if you weren’t,” Kolem searched for a gentle term, “together.”

”Thought you might land on boinking,” Cruz joked.

”That might be an Earth term, I’m from Mars. We’re classier,” Kolem said, “The point being what he’s doing is inline with the prerogatives Starfleet gives its captains. He can go on away missions, he can hand command of the ship to basically anyone. Clearly his reasoning is sound, if not in adherence with the rules, and I can’t do anything to counter it unless it was unhinged. If he left the ship to me, for example.”

Cruz nodded, “I understand, thank you Counselor.”

“Anytime commander.”

—- Bridge —-

“The Borg cube is now twenty minutes away if we’re at full stop for the drop off and they continue to advance at the current rate,” Lieutenant Jara of Operations said.

”Any chance we can buy some more time?” Cruz asked.

Pr’Nor the Chief Flight Control Officer studied the map they were looking at and shook her head, “No, we are likely to lose time if anything. Even the most precise piloting is unlikely to buy us any additional time.”

Cruz knew that the Vulcan likely knew all the ins and outs of the maneuver she was going to have to have the USS Seattle do. The pilots had been given the geography of the area yesterday and if there was anything the senior officers and Strategic Operations who had come up with this plan were overlooking they being professional pilots would have found it. 

“Lieutenant Junior Grade Winfield will be flying the Soundgarden, he is a competent pilot,” Pr’Nor said, which equated as high praise from her to her Assistant Chief Flight Control Officer. Cruz would have preferred that the Captain was being flown by the Vulcan Chief but she understood that flying the Seattle was the more vital job. They would need both pilots to complete this mission.

“Alright anything anyone thinks of let me know, we need to increase our odds on this mission dramatically,” Cruz said, “it’s our people on the line.”

—- Holodeck 1 ——

“So are we friends now?” Lieutenant Kolem asked the Commander. She had always liked the Commander but had found her a bit difficult to figure out. Career focused she had spent most of her time with Captain Hawthorne, who now she was annoyed with.

”I needed a second person for this scenario and I was not wanting to be around Nathanial right now,” Cruz said, ”not after his pirates scenario.”

”This is not pirates?” Kolem asked, she was not familiar with ancient earth but this seemed like pirates. Both of them had been dressed in billowing blouses. Though the pants were an odd choice.

”This is Zoro, the Mexican hero, or rather California hero,” Cruz said, “He is a stylish swashbuckler but not a pirate. A hero who works against an unjust legal system in California at the time. Though a female Zoro, since in the old days all the best parts were written for men.”

”So who am I then?” Kolem asked.

”Also Zoro, I made it for two,” Cruz answered.

”So two Zoros, but I don’t know how to use a sword,” Kolem protested.

”Just fling it around, but you should also learn. Fencing is quite fun,” Cruz advised.

”Okay so those Spanish guys running at us are the bad guys?” Kolem asked.

”Yes, don your mask and let us go fight,” Cruz said tying a domino mask on her face and drawing a sword that had been at her side. This was obviously going to be therapeutic for her as she yelled something loudly in Spanish and stabbed the first hologram that approached.

Kolem decided that if she was going to be invited to more of these social outings with the Commander she should play along so she donned her own mask and rushed forward to join the other Zoro doing Zoro things.

—- Bridge —-

Commander Adriana Cruz tried to think of this in the most analytical, cold, way that she could. She had a team going out into the field and a dangerous threat closing in, it didn’t matter that with the team was the ship‘s Captain five lives were less important to her than the other one hundred and twenty odd souls aboard the USS Seattle. She was the Captain now, and it did not do her any good to worry, she just had to perform.

”Come in low over the astroid then stop Pr’Nor,” she ordered, “Mister Th’kaotross I want a count going on how long we have and a channel open to the Soundgarden.”

The Andorian Security Chief nodded, “Mister Winfield, can you hear us?”

”Yes Sir, we’re ready to launch,” the shuttle pilot said. He was normally the Assistant Chief Flight Control Officer but he was also the second best pilot on the ship, and so he was taking this mission to dispose of the old Borg transponders down to the moon or asteroid. The crew had not had time to identify the makeup of this uncharted area of space so they had just assumed it was a moon.

The Seattle stopped, holding still. The Commander gave the order, “Launch.”

Every part of the mission had been drilled and trained as much as they could. To the left were the binary stars, the pair of which gave off a sensor defeating radiation. It was their home for the next little bit, their hiding place from the Borg, if they could pull this off.

The Seattle’s Shuttle Bay 1 door opened and the shuttle exited, heading at top speed for the planet. 

“We’re away,“ Winfield said, “all officers aboard.”

”That’s a more useful report when you’re coming back than when you’re leaving,” Cruz said mostly to herself. 

The shuttle’s journey was short, so it was not a sunrise when a moment later Winfield announced, “Preparing to land.” 

The Soundgarden touched down and reports from Lieutenant Junior Grade Winfield that the crew was unloading the cargo was appreciated. 

“Borg Cube arriving in this sector Commander,” Th’kaotross said.

”Yellow alert, that was faster than we expected,” Cruz said. The Borg must have realized the Starfleet ship was offloading the transponders and hurried to catch up. She stared at the main view screen intently, expecting it to change some how, wanting to see the Soundgarden lifting off.

”Update Winfield,” she said.

”Still unloading,” he reported.

”Borg are closing,” she said, “Get them out of there.”

Cruz and the rest of the crew on the bridge listened to the Captain, Thomas Winfield and the science officers unloading silently until Pr’Nor spoke.

”Borg ship is closing, if we do not leave now it can initiate boarding within five seconds,” Pr’Nor said.

They did not know what the Borg would do, but being able to board the Seattle meant they could assimilate the entire crew. The Seattle was a tiny ship, the Borg cube had at least ten times the crew. It would be a cake walk if they chose to, and the Seattle had no option but to assume the worst.

Cruz swallowed, “Full speed for the designated spot, shields up.”

They were leaving the Soundgraden behind. The ship leapt into warp briefly. 

Th’kaotross reported, “Borg Cube is beaming multiple individuals down near the transponders. And we have lost contact with Lieutenant Winfield.”

Cruz nodded and was quiet as the screen went blank, the radiation interfering with sensors. 

“Cut power, keep on life support and essential systems,“ Cruz said, cutting power would make them harder to detect in case the Borg’s sensors were much better than theirs. She sunk into the Captain’s Chair. Five officers, one of which was the Captain and her… well whatever…. They were likely lost.

Cruz then got another expression on her face, one of determination. Standing bolt upright she looked at her secuity officer, “Th’kaotross I want you and Strategic Operations in my the Captain’s Ready Room in ten minutes.”

Th’kaotross nodded as Cruz left and entered the Ready Room. He contacted the two Lieutenants in Strategic Operations which was on the other side of the ship and prepared for what the First Officer could potentially ask of him. He would soon find out.

—- Ready Room —-

“There is not scenario we have where we can mount a rescue of the away team,” Lieuntenant Eleanor Dorian said firmly. She understood the Commander was wanting a Picard like rescue, but the idea of rushing in with the Borg still in the sector was a no go. For now hiding in the radiation field that blocked both outgoing and incoming sensors was their only option where the USS Seattle survived.

Lieutenant Claudia Jara nodded, “I agree with Dorian, even taking that Nirvana out, well it puts the ship in danger, as if the crew on that mission gets assimilated then the Borg know where we are.”

”It’s possible the Borg already know where we are the Captain knew our plan as did Washburn Debub,” Commander Cruz pointed out.

The Andorian Security Chief and now First Officer Kan Th’kaotross spoke, “Yes, but we would only be adding to the potential that the Borg look for us. Our crew is minuscule for a Cube, it would not bother with one hundred individual organics unless they kept bothering them.”

”Anyway we can see what’s going on?” Cruz asked, “Can we send out a probe or something?”

”You would need to speak with Lieutenant Young in Engineering, but the thing is we can’t see out and they can’t see in, we selected this spot very much for that reason,” Jara pointed out.

Cruz nodded, “Okay, thank you. Dorian, Jara. I need to speak with Th’kaotross for a moment.”

After the two left the sighed, “Well you’re the new First Officer, congratulations.”

”It is unclear that the Captain is lost,“ Th’Kaotross said.

”No, but we don’t have the luxury of waiting, even if we’re not moving. Until he returns you’re the XO, I need you to agree with me in public, but tell me when I’m wrong in private. Understood?” Cruz said.

Th’Kaotross nodded, “I understand the duties. So to that end, the Captain made a choice, and you being on that mission instead of him wouldn’t have changed anything. We just lost our lead on the Borg.”

“Forty eight hours, then I’m taking the Nirvana and looking outside. Hopefully the Borg are gone by then,” Cruz said.

Th’kaotross knew when arguing wouldn’t help, and just nodded, “Sir.”

”Thank you,” Cruz said looking around the Ready Room which was so very much designed for its previous owner. Hopefully Nathanial Hawthorne would be returning.

—- Nine Forward, Lounge —-

Space looked pink, because of the radiation from the twin stars, but it was an obscured view as well with meteors floating around the ship. Everyone knew that they had lost the ship’s Captain and that the Borg were out there, beyond physical sight range going who knows what. Most of the talk was at just how large the Borg Cube had been. 

The crew had all seen other ships, but this was something different. The Seattle was a smaller ship in Starfleet’s lineup but it barely registered against the massive Borg Cube. Tens of thousands or even a larger number of drones must be onboard. Waiting to assimilate whatever world their turned their eyes to.

Tension was still present aboard the Seattle. This whole thing had been different, if it had been a Romulan or Klingon warship pursuing them the crew would have been fine. But things were different with the Borg, even more than the Cardassians or Romulans they were relentless and the things of nightmares. Now they were hiding and waiting, and all it had cost them was their Captain.

Lieutenant Zi Yhang sat with his drink looking out into the worlds beyond the ship. Beyond his eyesight was the enemy and the Captain along with his friend Assistant Chief Flight Control Officer Thomas Winfield who had been flying the Soundgarden. It was a small ship already, and tonight it seemed smaller.

Lieutenant James Young the Chief Engineering Officer and Lieutenant Doctor T’Rala joined him. 

“What’s engineering up to?” Yhang asked.

”Maintenance, this radiation is weird, and we’ve been pushing the engines hard. I want to make sure they’ll do what we want when we want,” Young explained.

”Heck of a time to lose three senior science officers,” T’Rala said.

”How so?” Young asked, not that there was ever a good time to lose a shuttle full of officers.

”We have no idea what the physiological results of being exposed to this radiation, even with our low levels of shielding,” T’Rala said, “medical we can test but the science department has the full labs to do this.”

”So what you’re saying is we could all be changed into cats or something?” Yhang asked.

”Yes, we’ll all be cats, that’s what I’m saying,” T’Rala shook her head and smiled, it felt good to joke even if about something so threatening.

— Medical Lab —-

“So what, is there a way to reverse it?” Commander Cruz asked.

”No, not yet. I will continue to study it but Lieutenant Debub would have been better suited to this,” Doctor Va’Tok said, “But as I say this radiation in humans seems to suppress the parts of the brain suited to long term planning, making more short term satisfaction of paramount importance.”

”How long until this begins to affect us?” Cruz asked.

”It already has. Though I suspect humans are more susceptible to this effect,“ the Doctor said, “Leaving the radiation field will reverse the effects almost instantly however.”

”But bring us face to face with a Borg Cube,” Cruz said.

”Yes,” Va’Tok nodded, “Also please refrain from rubbing my arm, I am not a potential romantic partner.”

Cruz stepped back, nodding “Right, apologies, my body. Umm can we block this radiation somehow?”

”As is my answer to most things about this radiation I should more research is needed,” Va’Tok said.

”I want a list of potential courses of action on my desk as soon as possible,” Cruz said and then trying to stay official and formal marched out of sickbay.

Cruz was not sure how she had not noticed the radiation’s affect on the crew. Exiting sickbay the halls were filled with junior officers with rolled up sleeves or even making out on duty. They stopped as the new CO approached, but it was clear that things were falling apart. They needed to get out of their, but they also needed to stay put least the Borg find them.

Entering the turbolift she fond Lieutenant Jara looking lost, “What is the matter Lieutenant?”

Jara blinked, “I forgot all the what do you call then?”

”Deck numbers?” asked Cruz.

”That’s it yeah,” Jara nodded.

”The ship’s computer will tell you,” Cruz said, to demonstrate she spoke, “Computer what deck is Lieutenant Jara’s room on.”

The computer calmly chimed the answer.

”Where you going to your room?” Cruz asked.

The Assistant Strategic Operations Officer blinked confused, “My room? I guess, I’m sorry my mind seem…” 

”It’s the radiation, it’s affecting us all, I just felt up Va’Tok’s arm,” Cruz said.

”How’s he like that?” Jara asked.

”He did not, he’s still very much a Vulcan,” Cruz said, wrapping her arm around Jara and ordering the turbolift to the floor for her room.

”I like you Commander, too bad you won’t,” Jara said then stopped, “too bad you’re traditional.”

The turbolift doors slid open, and the two women walked out. Cruz supported Jara’s weight, “Traditional?”

”You know, not a lesbian. I was being clever,” Jara said.

Cruz nodded, helping the Lieutenant into her room, “I’m… not a lesbian.”

Jara nodded then kissed the Commander anyway and the Commander kissed her back. The door to the hallway slid closed leaving the two women alone.

—- Bridge —-

“We need a contingency plan,” Doctor Va’Tok said, he was concerned, rightfully about the Commander’s ability to command the ship.

Pr’Nor the Vulcan Flight Control Officer frowned, “You are talking about mutiny?”

”No, simply safeguarding the ship, while the Commander is incapacitated. The radiation’s affect on us seems to be slower,” Va’Tok said.

Doctor T’Rala sighed, the Romulan not wanting to take over the ship, “Okay so what’s this look like.”

”In thirty-two hours we should be able to exit the radiation field. We keep the humans from blowing us up until then that is all I’m proposing,” Va’Tok said.

The Andorian Security Chief was the ranking officer there, and Th’kaotross said, “Fine, but just that. Thirty-two hours of babysitting the humans and then we exit and they’ll be better.”

—- Bridge —-

Commander Cruz head the hiss of the hypospray, she now had about ten minutes left of clear thought before the radiation made her back into a desire driven danger to the crew. The entire ship was feeling the effects and these temporary treatments were not enough to go around. Even Doctor Va’Tok looked anxious, and he was the basically the second Captain now.

“We need to get out of this radiation field,” Cruz said, the room slightly swaying around her. She took a long blink. She steadied herself against the Captain’s arm rest as she continued to speak, “If the Borg are still out there, well we have to take that chance. If we stay in the field, someone if going to blow up the warp core of something. Pr’Nor take us out, half impulse speed.”

The Vulcan Chief Flight Control Officer was also one of the few crew members able to function, though she too looked worse for wear. The USS Seattle slowly moved out of the field created by the twin suns, and into the openness of space. Almost immediately Cruz felt better, less “drunk” which was how the effects of the radiation had felt to her. She looked at the Chief Medical Officer, “Long term effects?”

”Unknown for sure, but I do not anticipate any,” Va’Tok said taking his seat.

”Okay, give people about an hour to make their way back to their posts and then we’ll send the Nirvana to the moon, to find the crew we left there,” she said.

Kan Th’kaotross the Andorian Chief Security Officer was still at his post, “We are being hailed. It is Captain Hawthorne.”

”Cruz did you break my ship,” the Captain joked over the comm.

”Almost, but I can explain, just get your crew and come home,” Cruz said sighing with relief.

”Leaving now,” Hawthrone said.

On the screen the image of the Soundgarden grew as it approached the ship. Pr’Nor did some basic maneuvers to make it easier for the shuttle to land but soon it was back on board and the crew was disembarking. 

“Well,” Hawthorne said out of the shuttle, “how is my ship Commander.”

Cruz looked at her feet, “Well sir, we should talk. In private.”

—- Ready Room —-

“Radiation that made the crew act drunk?” the Captain had read about viruses that did that but not radiation, not that it was unbelievable. It was just something that only seemed to happen to ships named Enterprise. Still the ‘person’ of environmental factor that made the crew all act wild, was frequent enough that he had written a report on it back at the Academy. He shook his head, “Well you got the Seattle clear and there’s no damage reports. Everyone gets a scan and we’re good.”

”I made out with Lieutenant Jara, I umm, cheated,” Cruz said.

Their relationship was bound to be complicated, but the Captain had not anticipated involving other members of the crew in it. They both seemed to be doing their jobs well, and thus as long as Starfleet knew of it, then it was all good. Captains had dated their shipmates since inter-gender ships existed. Before then in all honesty.

He smiled, “Okay, calm down. Yes, you probably should not just make out with any Lieutenant you come across in the halls. But it was under the influence of radiation and it’s far better than jettisoning the warp core or something. You’d not married to me, I’m not dating anyone else, but we’re not exclusive.“

”Would you have the same reaction if it had been Hume, or Th’kaotross?” Cruz asked.

”You mean, a man?” Hawthorne said, he thought about it, “I hope so but I don’t know if I’m being honest. Again I hope so, but ultimately all I need to know about your free time is if you want to spend it with me, or breakup with me. Making out with Jara is… I’m not happy about it but I think we can survive.”

Cruz nodded, “I’ll talk to Jara, make sure there’s no lingering expectations.”

”That’s smart,” the Captain said, “And Cruz give yourself a break you did good.”

”And the Borg?” she asked finally sitting down. Hawthrone was already sat behind his desk, so he was glad the Commander joined him.

”Didn’t even approach the shuttle. They beamed down about two hundred of them, scooped up the transponders, scanned the area for more and left. The Cube stayed hovering above the moon for about another day, then left at warp nine back the way we came,“ the Captain said, “About ten hours later you came out and we radioed in. That’s it.”

”So the Borg?” Cruz began.

”Should be done, I’m writing up a report next and sending it to Starfleet. Then Young wants a few days to work on the Engines, so you need to find us a Class M planet to vacation on. I think we all earned it,” Hawthorne said.

”I’m glad you’re alive Nathanial,” Cruz said.

”I’m glad to see you as well,” Hawthorne grinned, “Now when you said you made out with Jara, what are we talking? Tongues, uniforms off?”

”I‘ll go find that planet,” Cruz said not wanting to be drawn into whatever joke the Captain was making. She stood and left the Ready Room, glad that it had it’s rightful occupant back in it. 

—- Bridge —-

”The planet is half a day away at warp five, and is Class M,” Cruz said summarizing that she’d learned about the yet unnamed planet in the past hour, “No intelligent like and we have this land mass here, roughly the size of what used to be New Zealand’s ’North Island’ on Earth, that has no animals, and seems to have the weather patterns similar to Hawaii On Earth.“

Hawthorne smiled, “A tropical paradise?”

”If you say so,” Cruz said, “But for leave it‘s the best place I’ve found nearby.”

Hawthorne nodded to Pr’Nor, “Set a course to Cruz’s Planet. Cruz do you have a name for it?”

”What?” she asked.

”We’re explorers, part of the joy is putting out names on everything we see. Jamestown, for example. Now, we don’t have a King, and it had no population, so we get to name it even if just for star charts and our logs.”

“Nuevo Mundo,” Cruz said.

”New World? Not a greatly original name, but it’ll work for now,” Hawthrone said, “Work on that Cruz we’ll be visiting a lot of new worlds on our way home.“

He smiled, they had survived the Borg and gotten rid of the transponders. Now all they had to do was get home.

The End.

—- Nine Forward, USS Seattle —-

Lieutenant Akane Sone had done her work for the day. After over a week of traveling too fast to actually map out any planets the USS Seattle had stationed itself in orbit around a new world, a world where they were now taking some much needed shore leave. She was not sure if she was going to participate or not, while shore leave sounded fun there was something almost comforting about the essentially inaudible hum of the ship. Any ship really. The Seattle was top of the line, and new, so it barely made any sounds, but it was comforting regardless. Weeks of running from the Borg has only clarified to Sone, that she did not like being off a ship if she could help it. Without the interference from a planetary environment, you could see the stars better.

Sone spotted Commander Adriana Cruz nursing a drink and talking with Doctor Va’Tok. The Commander waved her over, and Va’Tok nodded in the way that Vulcans did when they were neither glad nor mad to see you, a way of letting you know they acknowledged your existence. 

Sitting down with the two senior officer Sone nodded, “Ma’am, doctor.”

”Akane Sone, right? You almost became Chief Science Officer,” Cruz said, and smiled. 

Now that the Captain and the team that had gone to the moon had returned it seemed that the Commander was more willing to see the lighter side of the dangerous mission that they had gone on. For a time the crew, including Sone, had thought them dead and the return of the Captain and those that had gone with him in the shuttle the Sound Garden had been a relief. 

”Are you two on a date?” Sone asked, “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Va’Tok shook his head, “I am asexual, I do not ‘date’.”

“I did not know that, but yes, this is not a date. We’re friends,” Cruz said.

”We know each other,” Va’Tok said as if clarifying.

“The Doctor is my friend, whether he admits it or not,” Cruz said.

Va’Tok made a small noise but did not protest further.

Lieutenant Akane Sone had not spoken with the Commander before but she liked her. It was nice, serving under a woman, though the science department was heavily female aboard the USS Seattle. Still it was nice, as she liked having the sometimes more aggressive instincts of a male Commanding Officer balanced out by a more… empathetic female perspective.

Sone groaned and fiddled with her trousers, “Sorry these legs are uncomfortable.”

”What do you mean?” Cruz asked.

Va’Tok who knew said nothing.

”My legs are robotic, artificial. I lost my biological ones while at the Academy,” Sone said.

”It is a rare procedure, but Lieutenant Sone qualified for it. Though I am not a mechanic, and wonder what we will do if we do not return to Federation space and the legs need servicing,” Doctor Va’Tok said.

Cruz looked interested, “Robotic legs, I’ve heard of such things but they’re rare.”

”I don’t mention them, much, people kind of find them Borg like,” Sone said.

The Commander nodded, “I do not think that will be a problem on this ship, but aside from Doctor Va’Tok here and perhaps the Captain I do not see who needs to know.”

“Speaking of Borg even Vulcans need to sleep,” Va’Tok stood and nodded at the two women, “I will likely encounter you tomorrow.”

Cruz watched him go, “You holding up okay after the Borg chase, and then the radiation field.”

”I’m fine. It was… hard…. I learned to love being on a starship, it’s like my home more than any place else and for once it didn’t feel safe,” Sone said.

Cruz nodded, “It was hard, on all of us. Waiting for the Captain, and thinking we’d lost him, well I was not sure if I could continue. I mean I had to, that was the thing with rank. But I’d lost everything, if I lost him.”

”Oh, are you and the Captain… you know,” Sone asked.

Cruz nodded, “Dating, yeah. He went for me, to protect me. It was dumb and frustrating and so overbearing but kind of… I don’t know.”

”Sweet?” Sone asked.

Cruz nodded, “You’re speciality is stellar cartography right? Should get a good bit of mapping done on the way back to Federation space.”

Sone recognized that the Commander was trying to change the subject. She did not know the younger officer that well, and had already been far more earnest than Sone was used to senior officers being. The fact that they were on a small ship helped. More over the time with the Borg had created a bonding between everyone, and as they had sat with no power to their warp engines and computer unable to tell where the Borg were, they had learned not only fear but to trust one and other. Still a new subject seemed to be in order, as the Commander was done speaking on the subject of her relationship with the Captain.

”I am, yeah,” Lieutenant Sone confirmed.

”Exciting time for you, out in the middle of unexplored space,” Cruz said.

Sone nodded, they had truly gone where no human, or half human and Trill, had gone before. They were well beyong the borders of the Federation and finding new worlds and new civilization.

”Well if we go back slower,” the Lieutenant confirmed, “so I can actually map things. I was just able to roughly sketch out what we were passing on our way out here, but not chart anything.”

”Well we had other things to take care of, like not being assimilated,“ the Commander said, ”We’ll make sure to give you time. We can’t run at top speed back, we almost had the proverbial wheels come off.”

Tashai the El-Aurian Chief Operations Officer entered and after getting a drink at the bar joined the two she seemed to Sone more relaxed than when they were being pursued by the Borg. While the Federation had managed to keep from being assimilated and defeated by the Borg it was not the same for the El-Aurian’s who had been assimilated with the few remaining members scattered across the galaxy.

”Captian’s back. Everyone is done acting drunk from radiation,” Lieutenant Commander Tashai said, “It’s a good day for a drink.”

Cruz nodded, “We have shore leave for a few days. Then we’ll be making our way home, but we’ll try to take it easy. We can’t push our engines like we did getting here.”

”New things, I can’t wait to see them,” Tashai said. She had been aboard the USS Anaheim with the Captain and the majority of the crew. Save for a larger science department, and a much smaller medical department, much of the crew had transferred over To the USS Seattle along with the Captain. In a way that made Commander Cruz the new kid on the block, as a recent transfer.

There was definitely more to do for a Stellar Cartographer on the USS Seattle.

Lieutenant Akane Sone stretched and then adjusted her uniform, “I’d better go take my legs off. See you both later.”

Rising she left the lounge, and headed to her quarters. She remembered when the hallways were dark, illuminated only by a flashlight that she had to carry and emergency lighting. The threat of the Borg showing up had been real, and she had felt it viscerally. Yet this was still her favourite place, the inside of a starship. This one was hers, at least temporarily, and she did not like being afraid while in it. 

Yet everything had been fine in the end. They had survived to see another day. And the safety she felt on the ship, the comfort, was restored though tarnished a little.