The Shuttle Yosemite, carrying the new crew members, was still en route when Commodore Cromwell received a notification that Captain Anderson needed to speak with him again. He sat down at his desk in his ready room and opened the channel with a smile, “I haven’t even gotten this crew aboard, Keith. You can’t take them yet,” He joked. 

Captain Anderson chuckled at that, “Of course not. I have to wait for you to like them before I do that.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Cromwell asked with a grin. 

“Orders,” Keith replied, simply. “You’ve heard about the Borg tech that’s been activating some sort of beacon recently?” 

“Yeah, I’ve heard some scuttlebutt going around about it,” Cromwell said, nodding. 

“It’s worse than it sounds,” Keith replied, his voice turning away from their usual easy-going tone to a more serious one. “The amount of tech that’s activating is … disturbing. And it’s everywhere. Some of it in deep space, some in the hands of scrap dealers, some in our colonies and research facilities. But the worst part is,” Keith trailed off and took a deep breath, “The worst part is, we’ve started getting reports of Borg sightings. It could be nothing, and we don’t have any concrete evidence, but…” 

“It’s enough to make Starfleet Command nervous,” Cromwell offered. 

“Exactly. One of the pieces is at Devol Outpost. If I remember right, you know the administrator there, correct?”

“Doctor Pavel, yes. I was serving as the Chief Engineer on the Valley Forge when they were establishing that Outpost. I helped his crew setup most of their systems,” Cromwell replied. “I’d heard he’d picked up some Borg technology a few years back. From what I understood they’ve made a lot of incredible advances from that little hunk of tech.” 

“Incredible may be an understatement,” Anderson replied with a nod. “So I’m sure you can understand the frustration when I informed Doctor Pavel that we’re coming to dismantle and destroy it,” He said. 

“Ah,” Pete replied, simply. “Yes.”

Keith nodded with an understanding smile, “Command was originally going to send Captain Riley aboard the Wisconsin, I asked them to let me see if you were willing. I thought maybe a friendly face might make things go much more easily,” Keith explained. 

Cromwell sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a moment, then sighed, and finally spoke, “I don’t love it, Keith. He’s my friend, I hate to be the one that has to go make him give up his toy.” 

“At the end of the day, Pete, you’d be keeping him safe,” Anderson offered. “He might actually listen to you better than he’d listen to just any other CO.”

He sat and pondered that for a moment, then looked over at Keith, “How serious is this threat?” 

Keith sighed, “I’d be lying if I told you I knew for sure. Like I said, we’ve had some sightings. We’ve had some telemetry that looks like Borg probes, there’s been some rumors of drone sightings. Nothing major, and some of it could be people jumping at shadows after what happened at Frontier Day, but… I’m sure you know, after that we have to take it seriously.” 

Cromwell chuckled, “Son, I’ve been taking the Borg seriously since Wolf 359. You forget the Baleford was there and I barely made it out in one piece, and a lot of the rest of the crew didn’t,” He said. 

Keith nodded slowly at that, “I always forget you were there.”

“I don’t,” Cromwell replied, smiling kindly. “I’ll talk to Pavel. He’s not going to be any happier with me telling him, but I think I can at least help him understand and lighten the blow. I’ll keep you appraised of any potential Borg activity we encounter.” 

“Thanks, Pete. I appreciate that,” Keith replied. 

“Of course. Anything else?” 

“No, just stay safe out there, okay? Anything gets too green, you get out.” 

“Count on it.” 

Anderson nodded with a smile and closed the channel, leaving Cromwell alone with his thoughts. The events of Frontier Day alone had already stirred up old memories for Pete, and now this had a steel ball settling into his gut. He’d railed against milk run missions from Starfleet and being left to work just like the other COs, but this wasn’t what he had in mind. Especially after Wolf 359… 

He shuddered remembering it. Only two escape pods had managed to launch from the Baleford before the ship had been utterly destroyed killing all three-hundred plus souls on board. He and the Chief Engineer had managed to rig up a scrambler to keep the Borg from discovering them… but the other pod hadn’t been so lucky. He could remember the flashes of orange phaser fire and green Borg shields in the viewports of the shuttle before it all went still. A few moments later, the slow flash of a transporter told him what he needed to know: Whatever friends he had on that shuttle were gone, lost to the Collective forever. 

It wasn’t long before the Cube had jumped back en route to Earth and they’d been able to reactivate life support. A passing salvage operation had found them and brought them to the nearest Starbase. He’d had nightmares for months, and the survivor’s guilt was devastating some days, but he’d pressed on. He’d lived for the people who couldn’t, and that was what mattered. 

Pete stood and walked over to the viewport in his ready room, looking out at the ships coming and going from Starbase 86 where the Lafayette was docked. He knew the crew compliments for most of them, even the civilian ships, and mentally calculated the number of souls that would be lost if a Borg cube showed up right now. 

It was a morbid distraction, but one he did often after the events he lived through. He knew the souls at risk, so anything less than that was a victory. There’d been a long time he’d broken the habit, but after Frontier Day, and now this… it kept him sane. More than four-thousand lives were at stake, just within his field of view. He would do everything he could to keep them all safe. 

“Bridge to Cromwell,” His communications officer’s voice chimed through. 

“Go ahead, Galloway,” He replied. 

“Sir, the Yosemite is on an approach vector. They’ll be landing in Shuttle Bay 2 soon,” She answered. 

“Copy that. I’ll head down to the shuttle bay to meet them.” 

“Yessir!” She replied, and the channel chirped off. 

Cromwell sighed. Now to go tell the new crew what they were going to have nightmares about that night. Oh, the joys of still being a Commanding Officer. 

The passenger cabin aboard the shuttle Yosemite was alive with chatter as it approached the Lafayette. Commander Dumouchel had dispensed with the formalities early on in an effort to get to know her crew mates, and all but one had been eager to join into the conversation. 

“Ah, yes, Aigues-Mortes was a lovely place to grow up. I always loved looking up at the stone walls and towers and imagining all of the adventures and bravery that inhabited them long ago,” She said to Mack, who was eating up all of her stories of growing up in France, and absolutely hanging off of every word spoken in her rich French accent. 

Mack laughed, “Oh, man, that sounds so different from Texas. The only thing we've got with walls in Texas is the Alamo, and it's not that big,” She joked. 

“Ah, oui, but you have barbecue brisket, and I believe that more than makes up for some old stone walls,” Dumouchel teased back. 

Mack gasped, “You know about Brisket? I pegged you for a escargot and croissant girl,” She replied in her honey thick Texas accent. 

Dumouchel shuddered and laughed, “Ugh! Escargot? Non! Not at all! The texture is so…” She shuddered again and made a disapproving noise. “Now if you had said croissant and crepes, you'd have been better off,” She said with a laugh. “Can't beat French Bakeries, non?”   

Mack laughed happily at that, “No ma'am, you cannot!” She agreed. 

“And what about you, mon ami?” The XO asked the young man across from her. “DeMont is a good French last name. Are you of French descent?” She asked, happily. 

“Oh, yes ma'am," Nick replied in his Nashville drawl, “My family was able to trace our ancestors back to Versailles."

“Oo, so I am among royalty, non?” Dumouchel cooed, teasingly. 

Nick laughed at that, “No, ma'am. My family was the servants and workers for the royalty.” 

“Eh, that is close enough for me,” She replied with a laugh, waving him off. “Have you ever been to Versailles? It is very beautiful.” 

“Oh yes, ma'am!” Nick replied, happily. “We used to go once a year. My mom loved it out there. We'd spend a week every summer exploring every inch of the place. It's definitely nothing like Tennessee,” He said. 

“Ah, I've never been to Tennessee,” Dumouchel replied. “But from all of the pictures I've seen, it has a stunning beauty all of it's own,” She smiled happily at the young man across from, then turned to the man sitting in the corner, studying his hands. 

Jason Rawles was the odd man out in this cabin. He'd barely spoken, not uttered a laugh. He looked a little red in the face and was slowly working his hands together as he stared at the deck plating. Even when they'd all arrived, he'd barely uttered a greeting, just given everyone a small smile and a wave.

“What about you, eh? Lieutenant Commander?” Dumouchel prodded. 

Jason looked up at her, surprised, and then realized all eyes were on him, “Oh… sorry. What?” 

“Not a worry. We were all discussing where we're from,” The XO explained. “Where are you from?” She asked. 

“Oh. Boston, Ma'am.” He replied, simply, with another slight smile, before going back to looking at his hands. 

“Ah! I was there last year!” Dumouchel replied, brightly, thinking she'd finally found an in with this quiet, distant man. “I have been many times, it is a beautiful city. So full of history.” 

Jason smiled weakly and nodded, reluctantly giving his attention back to them, “Yeah. Yeah, there's a lot of Ancient American history there. I think they uh… I think they still have the freedom trail marked in the city, so you can walk the path that Paul Revere road during the American Revolutionary war,” He offered, half-heartedly. “It's pretty neat." He gave everyone a cursory smile and went back to studying his hands. 

“Awe, that sounds neat,” Mack chimed in. “I never have seen much of the North East. I always wanted to, though. New York, Philadelphia, Boston, all of it. There's just something about it up there that's just cool,” She said, smiling. 

Jason looked up and gave her a kind smile and a nod, but didn't say anything else, just went back to his solitude. 

There was an awkward beat in the shuttle as all three of the other folks tried to figure out what to do with Jason's reserved demeanor. Luckily, the pilot chimed in, “Commander Dumouchel, we're about to dock with the Lafayette.”

“Ah, oui, good! Thank you, Lieutenant,” She called up to the officer in the cockpit. “Almost home, my lovelies,” She said brightly to everyone in the cabin. 

Mack wasn't sure if it was allowed to be absolutely this much in love with your XO, but she didn't really care either. This woman was sunshine made flesh, and some of the incredible sarcasm and wit that had come out of her in the course of their conversation had Mack fighting to remember that Dumouchel was her superior officer, not her bestie. Could you be besties with your XO? Mack didn't know, but she was going to find out. 

The last few minutes of flying was a bit quieter, but still dotted with bits and pieces of conversation as they made their final approach and landed on the Lafayette. 

“Is it true the CO on this ship is a Commodore?” Nick asked as the shuttle settled into the landing bay on the Sovereign-class ship, sounding a little awestruck at the prospect. 

“Aye, indeed it is,” Dumouchel replied. “Cromwell, I believe. From everything I've heard he is a sweetheart, though,” She reassured him.

“Do… This might be a stupid question, but do we still call him Captain or do we call him Commodore?” The young officer couldn't hide the embarrassment from his voice at even having to ask that question. 

“Ah, non, mom ami, that is a good question,” She replied. “But that is up to him to answer. Technically, Captain is correct as he is the Captain of the ship, but he may prefer Commodore since it's the higher rank,” She explained. 

“I'll ask for ya if you want, Nick,” Mack offered, kindly. 

Nick blushed a little but grinned and nodded, “Thanks, Mack.”

Dumouchel clicked her tongue, “Ah, look at my lovely little crew, already looking out for each other,” She teased. 

“Don't you let that get around, now,” Mack replied with a grin. “I gotta make sure my reputation as a horse-breaking, no nonsense CMO remains untarnished,” She teased. 

“Ah, your secret is safe with me,” Dumouchel said with a wink as the egress hatch on the shuttle opened. 

“Ah… does a Commodore usually greet arriving crew in the shuttle bay?” Nick asked, nodding toward the man standing a dozen feet away from shuttle.

“Not usually, no. This should be interesting,” Dumouchel replied as she hefted her duffel over her shoulder. She patted the young man on the shoulder as she walked past him down the gang plank and directly over to the Commodore. 

“Commander Amie Dumouchel, reporting for duty, Commodore. Also, may I present Lieutenant Commanders Mackenzie Reynolds and Jason Rawles, and Lieutenant Nicholas DeMont,” She waved a hand at the group of people standing behind her. 

“You can call me Mack, sir,” Mack replied with a grin and a sharp salute. 

Cromwell smiled at Mack and nodded, “Nice to meet all of you. Welcome to the Lafayette,” He said. “I wish I could say I was here to meet all of you, but I actually just wanted to get a head start with my XO,” He explained. “Feel free to settle in, unpack, and go about whatever you need to to get ready for duty. We're heading out as quickly as possible,” He explained. 

Dumouchel turned to her companions and smiled, “Thank you for the wonderful journey and stories, mon amis. I am looking forward to working with all of you. Dismissed,” She said, giving them all a salute before turning away and talking with the Commodore in hushed tones as they left the hangar. 

Mack watched them go for a moment, intrigued by the immediate matched gait they fell into and the impressive vibe of familiarity between the two, as though they'd known each other forever. She didn't know if it was the Commodore's years of experience, Dumouchel's easy going nature, or a combination of both, but something told her they were going to be a hell of a command crew.

She turned back around to find Jason and Nick already almost out of the hangar and started to chase after Nick, but changed her mind and veered after Rawles instead. 

“Hey! Hey, wait up!” She called to the older man. 

Jason finally seemed to realize that she was talking to him and turned back around, “Me?” 

“No the other dude walking down the hallway,” Mack quipped as she caught up to him. 

Jason turned back around to look for someone before he realized she was being sarcastic, and let out a wry chuckle, “Right.”

“I know who you are,” She said. “I make a point to go over the medical files of everyone on any ships I join,” She explained. “You were having some respiratory distress on the shuttle, I saw it. Is your implant okay?” 

Jason sighed and his expression changed to annoyed, “Yes. I'm fine. I always have a little trouble on the smaller craft, but I'm fine on the big ones. Don't worry about me,” He replied, flatly. 

“It's literally my job to worry about your health, Rawles," She responded back quickly. “I just want to make sure you're alright." 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” 

“Are you? With all of this? Because a six year leave of absence is no small thing." 

“I'm sorry, are you a counselor or a medical doctor?” Jason's tone was turning sharper. 

“I'm a medical doctor, but I'm also an empathetic human being, so there's that,” Mack replied, unflustered by his grumpiness. 

“Well actual counselors have cleared me for duty, and my lung implant is back to normal functionality now that I'm one the larger ship, so if you don't have anything else, I'd like to rest for a while." 

“No sir, nothing else.” 

Jason turned away without another word and walked down the hallway. 

“Hey!” Mack called. 

Jason sighed heavily and turned back, “What?” 

“I'm a damn good doctor, but I'm an even better friend, if you need one, and I think you probably do," She said. 

“Great, thanks. I'll keep that in mind,” He quipped, then disappeared around the corner. 

Mack's former CO had always teased her about her pet projects on the ships she served on. Certain people who needed a little more than a hypospray of meds. She'd definitely just found her new project on this boat. That man was hurting, and not just physically. She was going to find a way to get through to him if it killed her. 

She nodded to herself and turned the other way. In the mean time, Nick seemed like he'd be more fun. 

Amie Dumouchel sat in the chair across from Cromwell with her legs crossed, intently reading a PADD in her hand and chewing her lip. Occasionally, her eyes would open up a bit wider and then return to normal as she continued on. The silence was only broken by the occasional ‘hmm’ or ‘ah’ from her as she read. Finally, after about ten minutes, she sat the PaDD back on the desk and looked up at Cromwell, “Well… this is not the first mission I would have chosen for us,” She admitted. “I think I would have preferred surfing a super nova, or … I don’t know… French kissing a Klingon perhaps?” 

The fact that she’d said it so seriously caught Cromwell off guard and he laughed at that, “Yeah, I think I would to.” 

“I have avoided contact with the Borg to date, and I was hoping that would continue,” She admitted. “I see that much of the sitings are circumstantial so far, but I’d prefer to not have any at all.” 

Pete nodded, “I agree. This definitely isn’t a best case scenario, but it’s the hand we’ve been dealt.” 

“How are you handling it?” Amie asked, gently. 

“What do you mean?”

“Mon capitaine, I make a point to read up on the crew I’ll be working with on a new ship. You have already had a rather harrowing encounter with the Borg. It cannot feel good to be going back to deal with them again, no matter how indirectly,” She said. Might as well find out right away how shielded he was about his past. Amie wasn’t the biggest fan of the COs that kept everything stoic, but she could work with it if she had to. 

Cromwell sighed, and nodded, “It’s not my favorite, I’ll tell you that much. I’m even less of a fan of having to take an old friend’s favorite toy away,” He admitted. 

“Ah, oui, also an unfortunate factor, non?” She replied with a nod. “We will figure it out, mon ami. Of that I am certain,” She assured him with a confident nod. 

“Indeed we will,” Cromwell nodding back out the door, “So, you rode over with the new crew members. What do you think of them?” He asked. 

“Mon capitaine, I am not even in uniform yet, and you want me to start executing the duties of an XO?” Amie asked, in mock appall, but with a wicked grin on her face as she spoke. 

“Just want to see how you do under pressure.”

“Then I shall rise to triumph!” Amir replied, thrusting a finger in the air with an almost school girl giggle, “Mack is lovely. She is a wonderful person with a delightful personality. If she’s half the doctor she is a person, the ship is in very good hands. From everything I’ve seen in her files, that is definitely the case. Nicholas is young, and still a bit green, but not in a bad way. He’s just finding his voice, but he’s capable and he’s sharp and I believe he’ll do well and fit in quickly,” She explained. She furrowed her brow and sighed as she continued, “Rawles is… well, he’s a bit of a special case,” She explained, her French accent getting fuller as her voice got quieter. 

She sat forward as she continued, “He is… quiet. Reserved. Almost stoic, but there’s something boiling under the surface there. I know he’s been cleared for duty by Starfleet Medical, but he still carries much pain and sorrow. I have read his file and it’s heartbreaking. It will take him some time to recover,” Her voice was heavy with sympathy as she spoke. She couldn’t imagine anyone going through what he had. 

“If he ever fully does,” Cromwell added.

“Oui, indeed. He needs a friend. Someone he can connect with. The former Commanding Officer of the USS Camelot, one Gabriel Cardinal, was a close friend. They spent a great deal of time together over his six years of leave. Perhaps a close relation with a command presence aboard the Lafayette could be beneficial?” She offered. 

“That’s not a bad idea. Maybe I’ll pay him a visit before we get underway,” Cromwell responded. 

“I think that would be a marvelous idea, mon capitaine,” She replied, brightly. 

“Well, in my first official act as your new CO, I’ll be informing you that duty shifts have moved up, and Alpha shift starts in forty-five minutes,” He said, giving her a grin. 

“Oui, mon capitaine, noted. I will go and get changed into uniform right away.” 

“I’ll go and personally inform Lieutenant Commander Rawles, if you’ll let Mack and Nick know. I’ll meet you back up here in forty-five,” He said. 

Jason had enough of a ritual at this point, that it almost felt mindless. Clothes in the drawers, medals on the walls, and two pictures on the shelf where he could see them. Everything else would come out as needed over time. He hadn’t been moving from Starship to Starship in a while, but he and Gabriel had done enough new ship buying and temporary lodging on various trade worlds over the last six years, it didn’t feel very different. 

Gabe had been sad to see him go. Cardinal Shipping was meant to be a way for Gabe to stay afloat as he left Starfleet, but at the last minute, he invited Jason along and it’d pretty much become a family business. It didn’t do anything to numb the pain he felt, but it was better than nothing. They’d spent the last six years trying to forget the aches in their hearts, to varying degrees of success. 

Still, at the end of the day, Gabe supported him in his decisions. Jason even found a package waiting for him in his quarters from Gabe. A simple plaque that he’d made for their first ship: “S.S. Warstock – May Her Wings be Ever Ready”. It was one of the view things that survive the incredible crash landing on Delus IV. Underneath the engraved metal, Gabe had scratched in “They Weren’t.” Jason gave the plaque a grin as he walked by it where it sat, propped up against the wall on a shelving unit. 

The chime for his quarters dinged, “Come in.” He swore inwardly if it was the doctor checking in on him, he was finding the nearest airlock. 

“Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Commander,” the Commodore said as he strode into the room.

“Oh,” Jason spun around and snapped to attention and saluted, “My apologies, sir. I didn’t realize you’d be coming by.” 

Cromwell waved him off, “At ease, at ease. This isn’t an official visit, as you were,” He said, looking around the room. He spotted the two photos on a shelf near him and stepped over to look. “Sisters?” He asked. 

Jason looked up awkwardly and cleared her throat as he idly shuffled a couple of smaller boxes around, “Ah… No? Exes.” He replied, sounding somewhere between embarassed and annoyed. 

“Oh… So that’s Alexandra and Madeline,” Cromwell said, gently. Both were beautiful women, but so very different. Alexandra was small and had the kind of smile that could light up the room. Her green eyes sparkled user a shock of unruly red hair. Madeline, on the other hand, had a head of raven black that hung straight to her shoulders. She was a larger woman, and stronger looking as well. She had a great smile, all her own, but it was strong and powerful like a warrior. Cromwell wondered if the change in women signified the change in his mental state after what happened to Alexandra. 

“She preferred Alex, but… yessir,” Jason replied. 

Cromwell turned to look at him, “A good way to keep ‘em close. I’m sorry you had to live through all of that, son.” 

“All do respect, sir… I would prefer to not talk about the past. I’m more interested in the future at this point,” He explained, tired of being mired by the pain he’d experienced previously. 

“Fair enough,” Cromwell replied. “To that end, I’m actually here to talk about the future. The immediate future, actually. Alpha shift is getting moved up. You’ll be needed on the bridge in thirty minutes. I apologize for cutting your settling in time short, but we’re a little pressed for time.” 

Jason nodded, “Yessir, understood,” He saluted. 

“Good deal. See you up there, Lieutenant Commander,” He said, turning to leave the room, but pausing for a moment when he saw the plaque, “And one of these days, maybe you can tell me what the S.S. Warstock is,” He said with a chuckle. 

Jason actually smiled at that, “That’s some past that I’m willing to talk about, yessir,” He said. 

“I’ll hold you to it! See you soon!” He said, stepping out through the doors. 

Jason stood in his quarters and stared up at the two women looking back at him from the shelf. Mad was still out there somewhere, still furious at him. Married to that one guy. But at least she was okay. But Alex… she was gone. Snuffed out like a candle, and far too soon. 

Jason stopped those thoughts and closed his eyes tightly before he took a deep breath, “Computer. Chief Flight Control Officers uniform, to my measurements.” He said, heading to the replicator before it even started working. 

He was here to get back on his feet, not feel sorry for himself, so that’s exactly what he was going to do. 

Commodore Cromwell unzipped his duty jacket as he stepped off of the turbolift on deck two and headed toward his quarters. He and Amie had gotten the Lafayette underway en route to Canderus Prime, but it’d be a few more days before they got there. He hated that, because as word of the mission and direct orders spread through the crew, he know that the fear and apprehension of what was to come would become a daily part of their lives. He hated that for them… it hadn’t been long since they’d had to fight in these hallways to try and corral the younger members of his crew when the Borg remotely assimilated them. 

Pete scowled, thinking about that. As if it wasn’t bad enough that they could do it at close range, now they could do it from a cross a planetary system? That wasn’t fair. 

That whole incident had reopened a trauma in him that he’d long thought he’d seen the end of. Amie had been the first person he’d spoken to about Wolf 359 in years. Over a decade. It was one of those events that had been devastating to the galaxy, but after a few years, most people only thought of it as a statistic in the history books. It wasn’t for Pete. For him, it was the remnant of a living nightmare. 

He’d had decades to try and get over it, to learn to cope with the fear and the paranoia and the pain. Still, even after all that time, this was causing a nervous ache in his core that he didn’t want to think about. He could only imagine the feelings it was drumming up in the other members of his crew, both those assimilated and those who had to fight them so recently. He made mental note to ask the ship’s counselor to touch base with all of them. 

Cromwell stepped into his room and pulled his jacket off, settling onto his couch and letting out a heavy sigh. “Computer, hot cocoa, with cinnamon, please.” His mind wandered as the cup shimmered into existence in the replicator. “And open a secured line to Grace Cromwell, Earth.” 

Pete got up and retrieved his hot cocoa, find a seat in front of his communicator just as Gracie appeared on the screen. 

“Hello, my love, it’s good to see your face,” The woman on the other side of the line beamed brightly at him for a moment before her expression changed, slightly. “What’s wrong?”

Pete chuckled, “Why does something have to be wrong?” 

Grace gave him a look that said everything, but dove into an explanation anyway, “Well… you’ve called me on a secured line which means you’re going to take advantage of the fact that I still have a Starfleet security clearance because I’m working with SF R&D, which means you’re probably going to talk to me about a mission. And if you’re going to talk to me about a mission that would require me to have security clearance, that most likely means you’re going to talk to me about a mission you haven’t completed yet. And if you’re going to talk to me about a mission you haven’t completed yet, it means you’re worried about something,” She eyed him the entire time she was talking, enjoying the guilty grin between sips of cocoa as she went. “You’re also drinking hot cocoa. So, my love, what’s wrong?” 

Pete chuckled, “That’s what being with someone for thirty years gets me, eh? No secrets at all?” 

Gracie gave him a smile overflowing with love, “No secrets at all.”

Pete smiled back and nodded, then sighed, looking down at the slowly swirling forth in his drink, “It’s old ghosts.” 

“What ghosts?”

“The Borg.” 

To her credit, Gracie didn’t react. Pete saw her go the slightest bit pale, but other than that, she just slowly nodded her head, “That’s… that’s one hell of a ghost.” Her words were quiet, not quite choked, but definitely strained. She’d been with him in that escape pod, barely escaping the Borg. “How’s your heart?” 

Pete smiled at her. She didn’t mean the physical, beating organ in his chest. She meant the one that held his hopes and fears and everything in between. That had been something she’d asked him early in their relationship. He was confused at first, until she explained it, and after that it was one of his favorite questions she’d ask him. Gracie meant it, so genuinely. 

He shook his head, “I don’t know, honestly. It’s… a lot to take in,” He admitted.

“I can only imagine,” Gracie let out a low, sorrowful sound, “Your poor crew… After everything that they’d been through, to have to deal with the Borg again so soon,” She said, shaking her head. 

“I know. I’m worried about them, too.” 

“Couldn’t they have sent a different ship?” 

“No, they’re sending me for a reason, actually,” He explained. “Do you remember Devol Outpost?” 

“Oh! Doctor Pavel, yes!” 

Pete nodded, “Yep. Apparently, about three years ago, he stumbled across some Borg tech. It’s recently started broadcasting a signal, and Starfleet Command is concerned that it’s a call home signal and the Borg are going to come looking for it.”  

Gracie was quiet for a few moments, nodding her head slowly, “How serious is the Borg threat right now?” She asked, finally getting to the broader issues. 

“It’s hard to say,” He admitted. “So far, it’s been sensor ghosts and possible sightings, but Pavel’s chunk of tech isn’t the only piece that’s broadcasting. According to the intel reports I’ve seen, it’s all broadcasting.” 

“Literally all of it?” Gracie asked, wide eyed. 

“All of it that’s big enough to send a signal,” Pete replied with a nod. 

Gracie considered that for a moment, then shook her head, “I may hate the Borg, but even I have to admit their tech is impressive,” She chuckled dryly at the thought. 

Pete laughed too and nodded, “Yeah, no kidding. If only Starfleet tech could be that efficient.” 

With the details sorted, Gracie’s face turned concerned again as she regarded her husband of almost thirty years, “You’re going to be okay, Pete. You’re in a unique position, you know? You’ve already been through this. Literally exactly this. You know what it means to be face to face with those monsters and come out alive. You know the strength that gives you, and the weaknesses. And here you are, facing your fears along with your crew,” Her tone was gentle and kind, and so proud. “They’re going to need you, more than you know. And none of them know how lucky they are to have you with them.”

Pete looked down at his hands as she spoke, “I don’t want them to go through what I did, Gracie. The night terrors, the fear… I don’t want that for them.” 

“You can’t fix that part, Pete. But you can help them get through it,” Gracie said, her tone comforting. 

“Every time I walk these hallways, and I look at these kids… God, Gracie, they’re not that much younger than Meg. When I think about the things they’ll see over their next run of time in Starfleet: slavers, famine, cruelty… It doesn’t seem fair,” He admitted.

“Oh, Pete, always trying to protect everyone,” Gracie had no hint of malice or disdain in her voice. Pete’s need to care for those around him in whatever capacity he could was one of his most endearing qualities as far as she was concerned. “You can’t keep them from seeing the darkness out there, but you can teach them to find the light, my love. And I know you will. You always have.” 

“I always try to,” He said, quietly. 

“Branson was different.” 

Pete didn’t respond, but shook his head slightly, “I’m just… I guess I’m scared, darlin.” It wasn’t an easy thing for Pete to admit that, but to Gracie he knew he had to. 

“Of course you are,” She replied. “I am, too. But you’ll get through this, Peter. And once you’re on the other side, it will be fine.” 

Pete chuckled a little bit, “I feel like after thirty years of this, I shouldn’t get scared anymore.” 

“Fear is one of the few things in the universe that is eternal, my love,” Grace replied with a smile. “You used to tell Meg that fear was useful. That it helped you to be careful, and to stay alert. That fear kept you alive. You still believe that, right?” 

Pete gave her a playful look, “Don’t quote me to me,” He teased. 

Gracie laughed at that. Her big laugh, the one that Pete loved; the one that lit up a room like a summer day. “Pete Cromwell, I will quote whoever I damn well please at you, including yourself.” 

He laughed again, more easily this time, and smiled at her, “Would you still love me if I was a drone?” 

Gracie’s face faltered a bit, but she forced a smile, “Don’t even joke, Peter Cromwell. You promised me in five years we’d move out to the country and you’d let all of this go. Being turned into a drone would seriously hamper that,” She replied, flatly. 

“Bad joke,” Pete said, raising his hands in mock defense. “I’m sorry.” 

“I won’t hold it against you, this time,” She gave him a wink and a smile that wasn’t as forced. 

“You never do,” He replied, giving her a gentle smile. “I love you, Gracie.” 

“I love you too, Peter. To the corners of the universe,” She replied. “Go get some sleep, you’re going to need it.” 

Pete blinked, a little too long, and nodded, “You’re right.” 

“Always am.” 

“That’s fair.”

“Touch in as much as you can, okay? Let me know you’re alive and well?” She asked. 

“You know I will,” Pete reassured her. 

“I know, but I always like to remind you. Just in case you’re thinking about slacking off,” She gave him a wink and a playful smile. 

“Good night, love,” Pete said. 

“Good night, my darling.”

As soon as the comm switched off, Pete sighed. Something about talking with Grace always made his heart feel less heavy and his outlook brighter. He stood and gave a stretch. She was right, he needed to rest. A sonic shower, and then to bed. He’d worry about the rest tomorrow. 

“Intruder alert on Deck 7! Intruder alert on Deck 9! Intruder alert on Deck 15! Intruder alert–”“Computer! Stop verbal alerts!” Pete barked. 

The Lafayette was in shambles as Pete ran through smoke and gas leaks in the dim red light. He could see from the consoles at the wall that there were intruder alerts on all decks. The Borg were aboard. They’d destroyed the ships shields, beamed on, and began taking the crew. Pete was on his way to the warp core to stop them. He’d blow the ship and end their hopes of mass assimilation.  

He rounded the corner and saw the doors to main engineering, but before he could get there, a cold hand reached out and snatched him by the throat. For all intents and purposes, the cold hand should have given way under his struggles, but it held on like a vice. He beat at the Drone with all of his might, screaming and yelling at it and trying to break it’s concentration, but had no luck. 

He saw the nanoprobe tubules come out of the drone’s arm, and then jam into his neck with a sharp pain. 

Cromwell set bolt upright in bed, screaming. He clawed at his neck for a moment before he realized he was still in his quarters, and everything was fine. He was covered in sweat and breathing heavily as he scanned his room, trying to take in the familiar to help his dream addled brain calm and recenter. 

After a moment, he took a deep breath and muttered some curse words, “Computer, time?” 

“The current time is oh-five-oh-four hundred,” The Computer replied. 

Cromwell sat in his bed for a moment, staring at the sheets, then sighed and got out. Might as well head down to the mess hall for a good breakfast. Lord knows the good night’s sleep part was blown. It had been years since he’d had dreams like this… and he was confident they wouldn’t stop until the mission was over. 

Tamlin had reached out to DeMont almost as soon as he’d gotten on board and offered to take him through the Lafayette’s many systems. He’d served on a Sovereign once before, but Tamlin and DeMont knew that just because both ships had a primary targeting system, it didn’t mean that both primary targeting systems were the same. In fact, they very usually weren’t. Each ship left the drydock the spitting imagine of each other, but after that it was anyone’s guess. Each different Engineering and Operations Chief left their finger prints on it, different calibrations, different methods of repair, different experiences, and that meant no two ships were exactly the same if they’d seen any amount of service at all. It was one of the things that Tamlin loved the most about working in Engineering. Each ship was basically another member of the crew to get to know. 

“Oh,” DeMont was studying a read out on one of the tertiary displays in Engineering, “So that’s way off standard.” 

“Yeah,” Tamlin chuckled, “You can blame me for that. The secondary power systems on Deck 19 were having an issue with frequency conversion, so I had to reroute through a neighboring system to get it to stabilize.”

“Targeting control?” DeMont offered, nodding. 

“Targeting control,” Tamlin gave a nod of confirmation, “But I compensated for that by polarizing the coupler, and that seems to have everything ticking along. Novak swears its more responsive now, actually.” 

“That would make sense. Even with the polarization to compensate, there’s still more power routed through the system,” He said, taking a closer look at the readouts. 

Tamlin smiled, happy to see him grasp all of the fine details so quickly. She could tell he was still very unsure of himself, but it wasn’t based in any actual lack of competency, “You got it. I think you’re going to do just fine here, Mister DeMont,” She gave him a bright smile and patted him on the shoulder. 

DeMont smiled back, “I’m going to try, that’s for sure.” 

“You’re already succeeding,” Tamlin said, warmly. “Have you met the CO yet?”

“Briefly, yesterday, when we arrived. He didn’t have much time to say anything other than hello, though,” DeMont explained, already moving on to the next set of systems in line. “What do you think of him?” 

Tamlin smiled, “He’s a good man. I watched him during the Lost Fleet incident and then Frontier Day. He kept us going, he kept the hope alive, he kept us all believing.”

“Yeah, Frontier Day was rough,” His eyes flashed a shadow as he thought about that dreadful day, but Tamlin missed it. 

“Frontier Day was the day I think I earned the most respect for Cromwell,” She admitted. “Well, the aftermath, really. Commodore Cromwell and Commander Wyatt did a good job getting everyone together and keeping us safe. We were able to contain most of the drones with out killing them, but… not all. Cromwell carried them all to sick bay by hand.”

“Where the transporters not working?” DeMont asked. 

“They were working fine. The Doc even asked why he was doing it, and Commodore Cromwell told him it was because he’d promised to protect them and keep them alive, and he hadn’t been able to. So the least he could do is to make sure they were carried gentle to sickbay. And he did. Four bodies, he walked them all the way, by hand, in his arms, to sickbay,” She noticed Nick was intently watching her, listening to the story. She smiled at him, “He’s a good man.” 

As if on cue, the doors to main engineering opened an in walked Cromwell, already looking around for his chief Engineer. 

“Speak of the devil,” She said quietly to DeMont, standing up and walking over toward the entrance, “Making the rounds early, Commodore?” 

“Could say the same for you,” Cromwell replied with a smile. 

Tamlin returned the smile, “Lieutenant DeMont and I were just going through the key systems so he can get used to this lovely lady’s quirks.” 

“Ah, Lieutenant,” Cromwell offered the young man a hand to shake as he came around and stood next to Tamlin, “Pleasure to see you again. I’m sorry I didn’t have much time to talk when you arrived yesterday. It was a bit of a time crunch.” 

DeMont shook his hand and smiled at the older man, “No apologies needed, sir. I completely understand.” 

“Thank you for your patience,” Cromwell gave the young man a nod. “I’ll set aside time for us to talk properly soon, either today or tomorrow. In the meantime, Lieutenant Commander,” He turned his attention back to the Chief Engineer with a tired smile, “I need to put my hands to something. Put me to work for the next couple hours, would you?” He asked. 

Tamlin was a little shocked by the request and started trying to think of things Cromwell could do. Most Starfleet COs were well versed enough to manage a ships systems in an emergency, but Tamlin had the advantage of having a CO who’d made it up through the ranks from the Engineering track and kept his training and qualifications up for fun, “We need to recalibrate the EPS manifolds,” She offered. 

Cromwell shook his head, “No, I need to get my hands dirty.” 

“Ah,” Tamlin looked around, trying to think of what was needed, then she snapped her fingers, “We’re due to replace the power relays on Deck’s 9 and 14 next week, but there’s no reason we couldn’t do it now.” 

Cromwell snapped his fingers and smiled, “That’s it. Relays already replicated?” 

“Yessir, they’re in the tool alcove.”

“Perfect. Thank you!” 

Tamlin watched for a moment as the Commodore made his way to the tool alcove and started gathering what he’d need to replace the relays. She turned to DeMont and put a hand on his shoulder, “Do you think you can take it from here?” 

DeMont took half a second to process what she was saying and then nodded, “Oh yeah, I’ve got it. For sure.” 

“Great. We’ll find some time to meet up later and go over the last of it, yeah?” 

“Yup! Sounds good.”

“Thanks.” 

Tamlin walked over to where the Commodore had already packed up most of the gear he’d need, “Commodore? DeMont pretty well has it from here, and those relay replacements are a lot easier as a two-man job. You want some company?” 

Cromwell considered it for a moment, then nodded, “Sounds good to me.”

“Good,” Tamlin beamed brightly and grabbed the tool kit. 

The repair work went on without much more than idle chatter. Tamlin was glad to have the Commodore’s help on the relays. She had to admit, she’d never had the privilege of working on a ship with her commanding officer before. It was a new experience, and a surprising one. Cromwell was good. He was rusty, she could tell that, but he knew his stuff. She wasn’t having to train him, just remind him. 

“Polarity is off on the secondary coupler,” He said. 

“By how much?”

“Uhm… mark-oh-two?” 

“Try using the polarity modulator on the power conduit. Sometimes they’ll–”

“Surge when you remove the old power relay. Right. Forgot, sorry,” Cromwell chuckled as he set about his work. 

“You know, on my old ship we used to joke around about how the command crew wouldn’t know the difference between a polarity modulator and a hyper spanner,” Tamlin grinned. “They’d never believe I’m elbow deep in a power relay with my CO, much less a Commodore.” 

Cromwell laughed, “For what it’s worth, back when I was an Engineer, we used to make the same jokes.”

“Some things never change, eh, sir?” She asked. 

“They never do,” He replied. 

“Hand me that isometric interface, please?” 

She took the tool and made a few adjustments. There was only a brief handful of minutes before the relay whirred to life and Tamlin was able to verify that all of the readings were looking like they should, “Hey, looks like this one is good. Not bad work,” She said, then looked at Cromwell out of the corner of her eyes. “For a Commodore,” she teased. 

“Yeah, yeah. You be careful, I’ll put you on the bridge and take over as Chief,” Cromwell teased, crawling out of the access hatch with her and packing their tools. 

“You’ll have to pry that warp core out of my cold dead hands, sir.” Tamlin replied. The two of them returned to silence as they packed up and made their way to the turbolift. 

“Deck fourteen,” Tamlin ordered. 

There was a moment of silence as they rode down, but Tamlin broke it, “What made you want to get your hands dirty this morning, sir?” 

“No particular reason,” Cromwell replied. 

Tamlin regarded her CO for a moment before she spoke again, “Computer, halt turbolift.” She crossed her arms and looked up at her CO, turning to face him more directly. “Permission to speak freely, Commodore?” 

Cromwell looked around the suddenly halted turbolift awkwardly, then back to his Chief Engineer, “Granted.” 

“All due respect, sir, cut the crap,” She said, flatly. “People don’t wake up two hours early and ask for grunt work from Engineering for ‘no particular reason’. It’s usually for a very good reason and it’s usually because you don’t want to deal with something,” She said, then added gently, “Ask me how I know.” 

Cromwell chuckled and leaned back against the wall of the turbolift, “Are you my Chief Engineer or the ship’s counselor?” 

Tamlin laughed, “I’m better than the counselor, because you’ll actually talk to me.” She considered the man before her carefully for a moment before continuing, “I know Frontier Day was hard on you, sir. Going out on a Borg related mission so soon can’t be easy.” 

Cromwell smiled down at the young woman in front of him and nodded. She was just barely over half his age, but here she was with the wisdom of the ages. “Do you know my full dossier, Chief?” He asked. 

Tamlin shook her head, “Not all of it, just the command history.” 

“Frontier Day was not my first run-in with the Borg. I was on the USS Maelstrom during Wolf 359,” He explained. 

Tamlin dug deep in her memory for that one, “I thought the Maelstrom was destroyed at Wolf 359.” 

“It was,” He nodded slowly, trying to keep the memories from coming fully flooding back. “I was one of only a handful of survivors. I know what those brutes are capable of. I’ve watched them assimilate friends. I’ve seen the brutal power of those damn cubes,” He said. “Frontier Day was a terrible massacre, but it was weak compared to the unbridled power of the Borg. And now… In their current state, they’re unpredictable on top of everything else.” 

The Commodore sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger for a moment, then continued, “It took me a long time to get over Wolf, Chief. I had nightmares every night for six years, and I thought I’d done away with them, but then after Frontier Day… and now this,” He gestured broadly. “The nightmares are back and… I just want to be done with this and get back to normal work and away from this Borg business altogether,” He explained. 

Tamlin gave him another long look before giving a single short nod, “Then let’s go replace another power relay. Computer, resume turbolift.” 

Cromwell smiled, “So, can I ask you a question? Off the record?” 

Tamlin chuckled, “That sounds loaded, but yeah, go ahead.” 

“Crews tend to not talk as freely when their Commanding Officer is around, and even less so when their commanding officer happens to be a flag officer,” He said with a chuckle. “How is the crew? Between the Lost Fleet and Frontier Day… everyone is doing their jobs and getting things done, but… how are they?” 

Tamlin weighed her response for a moment, “I won’t tell you details, sir. Anything that anyone told me was in confidence as far as I’m concerned,” She wasn’t going to betray the confidence of her friends and crew mates. That just wasn’t a part of who she was. 

Cromwell, raised his hands, “I’m not asking for any details. Just a general assessment in your opinion,” He explained. 

Tamlin nodded, and took a deep breath, “They’re struggling, sir. Same as you are. Frontier Day and the Dominion returning were some old ghosts that no one was ready to see again. And this mission is a whole new barrel of laughs,” She said, but then rested a hand on Cromwell’s shoulder. “But the important thing – the most important thing – you have to remember is that we trust you,” She explained. 

She laughed a little as the turbolift deposited them on deck fourteen, “I’ll admit, there was a point where we all were a little concerned that you were some crazy old man that was going to get us all killed trying to have your last hurrah,” She admitted. “But now we’re all confident in you. We believe in you. We’ll follow you anywhere, because we know you’ll be watching every step of the way to keep us safe.” 

Cromwell smiled at that, an odd sense of relief coming over him, “Well… I’m glad to hear that. I think a lot of folks in command still think it’s the first option,” He said with a wry grin, “But as long as you all know that I’m not out here like some damn fool on a crusade, that’s all that matters,” He admitted. 

“We know, boss,” Tamlin said with a smile. “Now,” She pointed her arm authoritatively into the power relay junction room, “Get to work, Engineer. These relays aren’t going to replace themselves!” She barked. 

Cromwell chuckled, but saluted and nodded, “Yes, Chief!” 

Commander Dumouchel sat across from Commodore Cromwell’s desk, drinking her usual rose hip tea as they discussed the mission. She’d had taken the liberty of the couple days travel time to their destination to get to know her knew CO, and so far she very much appreciated his calm, kind demeanor and easy going nature. As much as she’d loved working with Captain Jonas aboard the USS Dallas, his rigid adherence to protocol and etiquette could be… exhausting seemed like a polite word for it. Cromwell had told her she could call him Pete in private within their first thirty minutes together, and she’d spent a good two hours the previous days looking at family pictures and listening to stories of his daughter and wife. She wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

Now, they were enjoying a quiet moment and a warm drink as they waited for the ship to reach its destination. 

“You know the overseer of Devol, non?” She asked. 

“Mm, yeah. When I was an Engineering Officer on the Valley Forge we pretty much built the entire facility for Doctor Pavel,” He took a sip of coffee, “I haven’t seen him in quite a few years now, though.”

“Well, hopefully that will make this whole process easier on him,” She offered. “I’m sure he’ll be very upset to lose his prize.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on it being easy for him. Not with me asking or anyone else,” Cromwell replied, shaking his head. “That piece of Borg tech has brought some incredible technological advancements. He’s not going to want to part with it easily,” Cromwell wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with his old friend. There was an apprehensive knot in his gut whenever he thought about it. 

Dumouchel nodded, “Oui, that is probably very valid.” 

The comm chimed and Cromwell tapped his combadge, “Cromwell.” 

“Sir, we’re about to drop out of warp in orbit above Devol Outpost,” It was Rawles’ voice on the line. 

“Understood, Lieutenant Commander. On our way.” 

He and Dumouchel set their cups back in the replicator and made their way back out to the bridge. The XO took her spot in her chair while Cromwell walked forward to stand between Rawles and Novak at their stations, “Hail the outpost,” He called over his shoulder to DeMont. 

“We’ve got a response,” He said, after a moment. 

“On screen.” 

A caramel-skinned Indian man appeared on the screen. He was older, definitely older the Cromwell, with wispy white hair and dark brown eyes that almost looked black. He looked somehow displeased and amused at the same time as he looked at a man he hadn’t seen in years. He clucked his tongue and shook his head, “Is this how Starfleet handles old scientists? They send their old friends to come and take their toys?” 

“It’s good to see you again, Doctor Pavel,” Cromwell replied, giving the man a genuine smile. 

Pavel smiled back, but it wasn’t an honest smile. It was the smile that you give a used shuttle sales men when he’s trying to convince you that that scrape along the side is actually just a fancy paint job, “I wish I could say the same, Peter, but it is not the same for me. I know why you are here, so I am not glad to see you.” 

Dumouchel let out a small, “Hmm.” 

“Shrini, you know as well as I do–” Cromwell never got to finish his thought. 

“No. No, you do not know. I already told Starfleet Command and the Federation that they could not have this piece of technology. They want it for themselves, for their own labs, to build weapons, to make armor, to wage wars. This technology is something that has allowed me to make the world a better place, Peter! How dare you come here to take it from me!” Pavel was diminuative, but as he raged against the injustices of the galaxy, he seemed to be about three times his size. 

“Shrini, it’s dangerous!” 

“It’s research!”

“It’s Borg technology!” 

“It’s dormant Borg technology, Cromwell. It’s a chunk of a cube. It’s nothing. It’s not a nanobot, it’s not a drone. It’s a chunk of cube! We’ve been digging into their networks and circuitry, we’ve been able to access how their programming works. It’s just a chunk of ship!” 

“It’s broadcasting a signal, Shrini.” 

“Many things in the universe broadcast signals, Peter!” Shrini practically spat the words. 

“And how many of those things could actually bring the god damned Borg down on your head?” Cromwell barked. He’d kept his cool, but was clearly done being nice. He walked right up on the viewscreen as he continued, “How many of things could have you and your whole damn lab assimilated, sucked into a cube, and forced to live a life half-alive in the service of the collective? Huh? Answer me that, Shrini. Is your arrogance worth your life? Maybe to you. But is it worth your friends and fellow researchers? Are you playing god today? Is that why you get to make that decision for them?” 

The doctor suddenly seemed small again as he looked at Pete, wide-eyed, working his mouth but without uttering a word. 

“No,” Cromwell’s voice was back to a normal level now. “No, you’re just an arrogant scientist who’s been so blinded by his success that he cant tell when his damned toy has become too dangerous.”

Pavel finally snapped his mouth shut as Cromwell walked back to stand in front of the center chair. The bridge was a was so quiet you could hear his shoes brush across the carpet. Even the monitors and chimes from the computers seemed to echo in the space.

“I’m not here to play, Shrini, and I’m not here to debate. My science and Engineering teams are coming down to disassemble and dispose of the Borg relic and insure that any and all remaining Borg technology is disposed of as well, per Starfleet regulations, and you are not going to fight me or cause problems. Is that clear?” 

Pavel stared at Cromwell for a long moment, but finally nodded, “It is clear.” 

“Great. Then we’ll see you shortly,” Cromwell replied, turning back to DeMont and jerking his hand across his neck to let him know to cut the feed, which DeMont did with impressive speed. Cromwell sat down heavily in his chair, letting out a frustrated sigh as he did so.

The bridge hung silent for a moment before Dumounchel looked over at Cromwell with an exaggerated smile on her face, “Ah… loving reunions, non?” 

Cromwell couldn’t help but laugh at that and shake his head, “He always was a stubborn old bat,” He turned back and looked at Tamlin and Stravek, “Get your teams together and get down there. Take DeMont with you. Get that thing disassembled and destroyed. And make sure he doesn’t have any other pieces of Borg tech lying around. I don’t want any single piece of it left, got me?” 

“Yessir,” Tamlin replied with a nod, already heading to the turbolift with Stravek and DeMont in tow. 

Once the away team had departed, Dumouchel looked over to Cromwell, “Now what, mon capitaine?”

“Now,” Cromwell said with a sigh, “We wait. And hope that the Borg don’t show up before we’re done.” 

Cromwell had to admit, he was impressed. They’d already gone through three secured entrances with increasingly scrutinized security, and now were making their way down a narrow stairwell to the secured storage bay in Devol Outpost. A few more steps down and they’d be at the Borg artifact. Initially, he’d intended to only have Tamlin, Stravek, and DeMont come down with a couple of Engineers, but after his talk on the comms with Pavel… He felt like making an appearance might be a good idea. 

The two security officers took up posts on either side of an overly wide door and pressed their hands into biometric readers on either side. An alarm chirped and the door opened to an airlock chamber. Pete and company stepped inside and the doors closed behind them. 

“Verifying identify with deep DNA scan,” A computerized voice replied. 

Cromwell was a little surprised when he actually felt a light tingle as the scan started. 

Stravek arched an eyebrow and looked over at his CO, “At least they are taking possession of Borg technology… seriously,” He offered. 

Cromwell nodded, “I’ll give ’em that.” 

“Identities confirmed,” The computer chimed happily and the lights in the chamber brightened slightly as the doors at the other end of the airlock opened. 

Cromwell lead the way into the bay and fought back a shudder as his eyes fell on what was resting there: A twenty by twenty chunk of Borg cube that had apparently been blasted out of it’s home by something powerful. A couple of floors worth stood there, complete with several regeneration alcoves, and many of the systems chirping and humming along as if there weren’t any problems at all. 

Tamlin grabbed the arm of one of the passing techs, who scowled at her, “It’s active?” She could barely hide the shock in her voice. 

“Non-critical and non-integrated systems are activated in a specific order so that we can study how they work without posing any serious risk,” The young man’s tone was full of disdain and the look he gave Abby could have melted ice. He jerked his arm free and moved on without another word. 

Stravek walked up behind Cromwell and spoke quietly, “I’d like to rescind my previous comment.” 

The Commodore suppressed a snort, but gave the Vulcan a grin and a nod, “I’ll make sure to note that in my report.” 

The doors on the opposite side of the bay opened and Shrini Pavel walked through, anger radiating from every fiber of his being. He stomped over to Cromwell and glared up at the taller man, “What’s wrong, Commodore? Had to come and make sure I did as I was told,” He sneered. 

Cromwell crossed his arms and gave Shrini and unimpressed look, “Well, I wanted to come and see an old friend.”

“I am not your friend.”

“Shrini–”

“No,” Shrini spat the word as he stomped his foot and banged his cane into the ground angrily, “If you would follow the maliciously misinformed orders of the Federation and take away something that has allowed me to give so much back to scientific community and the people in our galaxy, then you are no friend of mine.” 

Cromwell’s face changed at that, and he stood up a little straighter, adding to the already substantial height difference between himself and Pavel, “Doctor Pavel, this Borg cube fragment poses a clear and present danger to you and your researchers. I’m not going to go into this argument again. Either you’re here to help us with the destruction, or you’re going to go back to your office and leave my officers alone.” His tone earned looks from his crew members present, surprised to hear their usually affable and friendly Commanding Officer speak in such a stern way. 

Pavel looked as if he wanted to argue more, but just huffed and aggressively waved Cromwell off before making his way out of the bay. Once the doctor was gone, Cromwell turned back to the rest of the scientists at hand, “The same goes from you. If you are not willing to help my engineering crew dispose of this threat, then you can go elsewhere and find something to do.” 

“You can’t order us around,” The tech that Tamlin had grabbed said, sharply.

“I am here under orders from the United Federation of Planets. As you work for the United Federation of Planets, I absolutely can tell you what to do. I can also confine you to quarters if you don’t feel the need to follow the instructions of the Federation. It’s up to you,” Cromwell’s tone left no room for argument. 

After a moment, the researcher threw down his PADD and left the bay, followed by a few more of his colleagues. Cromwell looked around at the remaining staff and nodded, “Thank you for being willing to see reason. We appreciate any help you can give us,” He said, his tone returning to it’s usually gentle timbre. 

There were a few nods around the room as the researchers turned to the Engineers from the Lafayette and started discussing plans. Cromwell waved Tamlin, DeMont, and Stravek over. 

“I’m going to head back up to the Lafayette and keep an eye on things from there. Let me know if there are any changes down here, or if Pavel comes back and starts anything,” He cast a look around at the researcher’s mulling about with the Engineering crew, “And keep an eye on them… make sure they don’t change their minds about helping, yeah?” 

“Yessir,” Tamlin replied, along with nods from the other too. 

“Good.” Cromwell stepped back and tapped his combadge, “Cromwell to Lafayette. One to beam up,” 

Tamlin watched as their CO disappeared into a shimmer of particles, then turned back to the Borg relic, nervously rubbing her palms on her pants as she looked at it, “I don’t even know where to start.” She lamented. 

“Logic would dictate we should start with turning it off,” Stravek offered. 

Tamlin chuckled, “Fair point.” 

“How have they kept it secure for so long?” DeMont asked, nervously. “With any systems running, I’d be afraid it’d start trying to assimilate the compound.” 

“We’re uncased in ten feet of tritanium, and surrounded by a tachyon dampening field. All of the equipment in this room is generating an auto-modulating distortion field, so the Borg systems can’t actually see what it is or recognize it as something to assimilate into,” One of the nearby scientists explained as she approached. “I know that Doctor Pavel can be… a lot. But he hasn’t been taking this lightly.” 

Tamlin looked over at the young woman, probably close to her age, and smiled kindly, “I hope you understand we’re not happy to take away this thing. The signal it’s broadcasting is breaching all of your careful security, and the Borg will find it.” 

She nodded, “I understand. I’m not eager to be assimilated. I just hate to see it go. We’ve developed a lot of really good things from studying its systems.” 

“Good things can come from dangerous origins. However, now the risk is too great,” Stravek gave the young woman and slight bow as he spoke. 

“I understand,” She replied. “I’m Melissa Rodriguez, second level research assistant here at Devol Outpost. I’ll help you disable the systems and figure out how to disassemble everything.” 

“We really appreciate that,” DeMont replied with a smile. 

He looked up at the cube fragment as the other three set to work understanding how the systems setup, shaking his head. It was huge… this was going to take a couple of days at least to finish properly. He knew that it was severed from the collective and free of any drones or assimilation tubules, but he still couldn’t shake the lead ball in his gut when he looked at the thing. He’d never thought he’d be this close to anything related to the borg – and he’d never wanted to be – but here he was.

“DeMont! Computer whiz, we need you!” Tamlin called. 

DeMont shook himself from her ponderings and gave her an apologetic smile, “Sorry, boss! Computer Whiz, present and accounted for,” He ran over to join his friends. 

The task was at foot, and all of them were feeling uneasy around the relic, even Stravek, but there was nothing to do but set to it. The faster the got it destroyed, the sooner they would never have to look at it again. And that felt just fine to all of them. 

It had been thirty-six hours since the Cromwell had left the away team on the surface. There’d been regular check-ins every couple of hours but it still felt like time was dragging. DeMont was on the screen now, briefing the bridge team on their latest status. 

“We’re roughly seventy-five percent done, sir. We’ve been trying to isolate the signal and stop it as we go, but it keeps migrating systems. Even with the cube remnants completely depowered, it stays active. I don’t think we’ll kill the signal until all of the cube has been destroyed,” He explained. 

“I don’t guess we can just disintegrate it with phasers could we?” Cromwell asked, already pretty confident in the answer. 

“Honestly, it’d take longer to do that,” DeMont shook his head. “The cube walls are so dense and made of such sturdy stuff, we’d be going through power cells like candy. Right now, we have a good process, it’s just a big chunk of stuff,” He explained, then a mischievous grin crossed his face. “If you’ve got a way to hit it with a high yield photon torpedo, that’d do the trick, but otherwise, we’re scrappin’ and burning, sir,” He explained. 

Cromwell chuckled, “I think the collateral damage from that might be a little hard to justify,” He gave DeMont a grin, “Keep it up, Lieutenant. If you need anything from us – other than photon torpedoes – let me know.” 

“Yessir,” DeMont replied with a grin. “Everything all quiet up there?” 

“So far so good. No signs of any Borg interest in the system. Hopefully we got here in time to prevent any encounters,” Cromwell replied, nodding. 

“Good to hear it, sir. We’ll keep chugging along and keeping you posted. DeMont out.” 

The comm channel closed and Cromwell made his way back to the center chair, where he sat with a huff. “That high-yield torpedo plan almost sounds like a good idea at this point,” He gave his XO a grin. 

“Don’t tempt me. I’ll fire it myself,” Dumouchel replied dryly, adjusting in her seat. “I wouldn’t mind some quiet waiting if there wasn’t the looming threat of a Borg incursion. That part makes it almost unbearable,” She’d been doing everything she could to distract herself, from reading books to filing deck reports, but nothing seemed to take off the edge. She had a bottle of Chateau Picard in her quarters that would do the trick, but Starfleet frowned on Senior Officers being tipsy on the bridge. 

“Yeah, that really is the worst part,” Cromwell admitted. 

Both of them fell back into the silence they’d gotten accustomed to over the list thirty-six hours. It wasn’t an awkward one, but rather the comfortable kind, in spite of the looming threat. Cromwell liked Dumouchel so far. He liked her a lot, honestly. She was plain spoken, unafraid to voice her opinion, but gentle in her approach. As much as he’d been sad when Peri was called away to her own command, he was confident that Amie would be a worthy replacement. 

About thirty minutes into it, their silence was broken by an alert at the Science station. 

“Report,” Cromwell stood, fighting to keep his heart from racing. 

“Transwarp signatures, sir,” The young science officer replied, his voice tight. “Out at the edge of the system.” 

“Borg contact?” 

“No sir– wait! Yes, Borg sphere just emerged from the transwarp conduit. It’s on an intercept course, sir!” 

“Red alert!” Cromwell called, “How long before contact?” 

“Sixty seconds, sir. It’s coming in hot.” 

“Open a channel to the surface,” He said, stepping forward to the viewscreen as the ops officer complied. 

A few moments later, DeMont’s face appeared on the screen, “Sir, we were just about to hail you. The broadcast signal just changed substantially, and we–” 

“There is a Borg sphere in the system, approaching quickly. Is there any way we can destroy the relic?” Cromwell interrupted and watched as the man’s face when white. He was proud of DeMont in that moment. It was clear that the news came as a shock and he knew it carried a large amount of fear with it, but he maintained his professionalism and poise. 

“Sir, the only thing I could think of is to overload the base’s reactor. That would most likely destroy all of it,” He explained. 

“How long would it take to evacuate the base?” 

“Half an hour, tops.”

“That’s too long.”

“Commodore,” Dumouchel’s voice cut through his thoughts, “That is an insufficient plan, anyway. The Borg will assimilate this system if we do not get rid of them,” She offered. “We need some sort of bait to lure them away.” 

Cromwell seemed to consider that for a moment, then snapped his fingers, “It’s already on the hook.” 

Dumouchel cocked her head to the side, “Sir?” 

Cromwell ignored her, and turned his attention back to DeMont, “Can we transport the remaining chunk out of deep storage?”

“Uhm… there’s a tachyon dispersal field that will probably cause some issues, but a wide-band targeting matrix should fix that.” 

“Get ready for transport, Lieutenant. Cromwell out,” He said, motioning for Ops to kill the comm channel. “Setup for a wide-band targeting matrix and adjust for the Tachyon dispersal field. Lock on to the scientists down there and that chunk of Borg cube and beam it directly to Cargo Bay 4. Tactical, bring down the shields long enough for transport, then bring them back up,” He said, earning a nod from both stations.  

Dumouchel groaned, “Oui, that’s what I thought you were doing.” 

“We have to get these Borg out of here, or all of the people on this world are in danger.” 

“No, mon capitaine, I completely agree with the plan. I just happen to hate it, all at the same time,” She admitted. 

Cromwell gave her a wry grin, “It’s not my favorite, either.” 

“Commodore, the Sphere is within visual range. They’re hailing us,” The Ops officer called. 

“On screen.”

The Sphere took up most of the screen as it appeared. The crackled voices of the collective because their usual rhetoric and Cromwell tapped his mouth so the Ops officer would kill outbound audio, “Do we have the Cube chunk aboard yet?” 

“Aye, sir. Cube is aboard. Got a request from the surface to bring a Doctor Rodriguez about as well. She’s been working with the relic,” He explained. 

“Good,” Cromwell replied, motioning for him to unmute the outbound audio. “Borg Sphere,” He spoke strongly, interrupting the Collective mid-spiel, “We have the chunk of Cube you’re looking for. No other Borg technology is on the planet. What you seek is here, aboard the Lafayette.” 

There was a long pause. Cromwell looked back to his tactical officer and his operations officer in turn, and both shrugged, unsure of what was happening. 

Finally, the Borg sphere responded, “Your statement is inaccurate, but sufficient. Surrender your ship. Prepared to be assimilated. Resistance is–” 

“They’re moving to intercept!” Came the call from the science station. 

“Mister Rawles! Ahead, warp 8,” Cromwell ordered, returning to his seat next to Dumouchel. 

“Yessir!” 

The stars in the viewport stretched out to lines as the Lafayette shot into warp. 

“Mister Meyers, are our friends along for the ride?” He asked the young man at the science station. 

“Sensors indicate they’re right behind us, sir.” 

Dumouchel looked over to the CO, “Mon ami… we have a shark on our hook. What do we do with it?” 

Cromwell stared out the viewport intently, and shook his head, “Don’t know… making this up as I go.” 

“Very reassuring… I don’t know if that worries me more or our Borg friends saying your statement was ‘inaccurate but sufficient’… what do you suppose that meant?” 

“I don’t know, but we can’t stick around to find out.” 

“Status report,” Cromwell had sat in the center chair for as long as he could. He stood up and walked toward the conn, his mind buzzing with anxiety knowing that that Sphere was close enough behind to kick them. 

“Holding at warp 8, the Sphere is closing a lot faster than I’d like it to,” Rawles replied. 

“Bring us up to warp 9, Mister Rawles. I want as much room between us and that Sphere as we can get.”

“Yessir,” Rawles’ fingers danced across the control surface and the hum of the warp drives kicked up slightly. 

Cromwell stood on the deck, staring at the stars stretching out in front of him, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he ground his teeth. He was struggling to keep the gnawing fear in his gut at bay, but it wasn’t easy. 

“Put the Borg Sphere on screen,” He said. 

“Aye, Sir.” DeMont toggled the view to show the Sphere pursuing them. 

Even at Warp 9, it appeared to be gaining on them. Cromwell scowled at it. There it was. The thing of his nightmares. He clasped his hands at the small of his back and clenched his fist. So many deaths, so much suffering. He idly wondered how many people were enslaved to the Borg in that cube. How many lives had been lost to them, how many had never even had a chance to start. Did he know any of them? Were any of the friends he lost aboard that vessel? 

He shook his head and turned back to the command chair, “I need ideas, people. We can’t run from these bastards forever and I’m not exactly planning to have a knock down drag out fight with them.” 

“We could arm a photon torpedo and drop it in our wake. As close as they’re following us, they wouldn’t have a chance to avoid it,” Novak offered. 

“The plan has merit, however I do have a concern that the explosion may destabilize our warp field and abruptly drop us out of warp. At this speed, the structural integrity field would be severely compromised,” Stravek countered from the Science Station. 

There was a beat before DeMont spoke up, “We could reconfigure the main deflector to emit a polarized tachyon pulse. We can modify our warp field to compensate, so it’d only drop the Sphere out of warp.” 

“That might just work,” Cromwell said with a nod. 

“Commodore, if I may?” Melissa Rodriguez spoke up from the corner of the bridge she’d taken up.

Cromwell turned and gave her a nod, “I’m accepting all takers, Doctor.”

Rodriquez gave him a smile and a nod, “Both plans are functional, but neither serve our purposes. If we blow a hole in their Sphere or if we knock them out of warp, they’ll adapt and resume pursuit,” she stepped forward and leaned on the nearest hand rail. “It’s going to take even longer to destroy the Cube remains aboard the ship. We need a solution that knocks the Borg out and helps us destroy the remains as quickly as possible.” 

“She’s right, Mon Capitaine,” Dumouchel replied with a nod. “Simply running will not be enough.” 

“Agreed,” Cromwell nodded, “Any ideas?” 

Rodriguez opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but closed it again and shook her head, “No, sorry…” 

Cromwell chuckled, “Fair enough. But you’re right, we need a solution broader than just knocking the Borg out of pursuit for a few minutes.” 

The bridge was silent for a few moments until Rawles spoke up, “The Sedlin Maelstrom.”

Cromwell looked over at him and raised his eyebrows, “Don’t leave me hanging, Mister Rawles.” 

Rawles turned back around in his chair, “Sorry, Commodore. The Sedlin Maelstrom is a methane nebula between the Azure Nebula and the Romulan border near Crateris. The area has a high amount of subspace distortions that create eddies that make navigation almost impossible. If we warp into the Malestrom and teleport the Cube remains into one of the Methane pockets, we should be able to hit it with a high yield photon torpedo. Anything that the torpedo doesn’t destroy, the methane detonation should and the Borg would be caught up in the eddies.” 

“And so will we,” Novak chimed in. 

“Well… yeah…” Rawles trailed off, looking around for help. 

“Actually, maybe not,” Rodriguez replied. “Can I pull up your shield systems?” 

Cromwell motioned her to the Operations Station. 

Rodriguez ran over to the console and started running through commands, “Yeah… Yeah, this could work. Based on the data I’m seeing here about the Maelstrom, the eddies aren’t randomized at all. They’re actually fairly consistent, we should be able to maintain navigational control if we use a bilateral quantum compensation in the shield grid,” She offered. 

DeMont had been looking over her shoulder as she worked, “She’s right, Commodore. There’s enough variance in the eddies, though, that we’d only be immune for maybe ten minutes.” 

“You won’t have that long,” Rodriguez raised a finger in the air, “The Borg will most likely be taken by surprise by this maneuver, but they’ll adapt in two to three minutes and get back to the hunt.”

Cromwell made his way across the bridge, slowly, tapping the ends of each of his fingers with his thumb as he thought. Finally he spoke, “So we’ve got two minutes to drop in, transport the cube remains into a methane pocket, blow it up, and run, all the while the Borg Sphere comes crashing in behind us.” He chuckled a little, and turned back to his crew, grinning. “Sounds fun. Mister Rawles, how far are we from the Maelstrom?” 

Jason turned back to the console and tapped in some commands, “At present speed, forty-five minutes.” 

“Will the Sphere overtake us by then?” 

“No, sir, but it’ll be close.” 

“You’ve got permission for emergency warp then, Lieutenant Commander.” 

“Go fast as hell. Understood, sir,” Jason replied, adjusted the speed. 

Cromwell gave a chuckle as he turned back to the rest of the crew, “The rest of you, get those modifications ready, get every non-essential system’s power shunted into the shields, and prep the high yield photon torpedo,” He said. “We’ll only get one shot at this. Let’s make sure we don’t miss.” 

The Lafayette hung in orbit over Candera Prime. It didn’t take any sensor scans or view screen magnification to find the source of the distress call. The scorched earth, fire, and billowing towers of smoke could be seen easily from orbit on the planet below. The site had previously been occupied by one of Omega Research’s largest centers, but now it wasn’t much more than ruins and a crater. 

“Status report,” The words came out of Cromwell’s mouth somewhere between a growl and a whisper as he stood in the center of the bridge. 

“There’s nothing left, sir. All major structures have been reduced to not much more than slag and scaffolding,” DeMont answered quickly, looking over the data with a heartbroken look on his face.

“Casualties?” 

“No life signs at the lab site, assimilated or otherwise.” 

Dumouchel pinched the bridge of her nose, “’Your statement is inaccurate, but sufficient’,” She repeated the words of the drones in the Sphere. “There was something else left on the planet.” 

“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Cromwell replied, nodding gravely. 

“Sir, we’re being hailed. It’s Doctor Pavel,” DeMont announced. 

Cromwell turned a cool look on DeMont, “On screen.” 

The doctor’s narrow face appeared on the screen. From the look in his eyes, he’d been crying. He seemed to be wavering in his chair as he regarded the Commanding Officer, clearly not sure what to say. Finally, he croaked, “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” 

“You lied to me, Srini,” Cromwell bit back. 

“You tried to steal from me, Pete! You tried to steal from me the thing that had made the most difference in my life!” Srini bit back, his voice wavering. 

“We came to get rid of a dangerous piece of technology that was putting your lives at risk,” Cromwell countered, angrily. “What did you do? Did you hide something?”

“No! I am not a child! We sent a regeneration alcove and a chunk of systems to Omega Research for their medical research programs! We never thought… we didn’t…”

“I told you, Srini. Starfleet Told you. Everyone told you this was a high risk danger,” Cromwell replied, sharply. He was done with the man’s excuses. “You knew the risk. You saw a damn Sphere show up in the system!” 

“Yes! And we told them, Pete! We told them! They were trying to destroy it, but the second Sphere got here so quickly, we just…” Srini shook his head, “Pete… please… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Commodore Cromwell,” Cromwell correct, his tone dark and grim. “How many people were in that research facility, Srini.” 

The man stayed quiet.

“How. Many.” 

“Five-thousand, three-hundred and ninety-six,” Srini finally responded. 

“Five-thousand, three-hundred and ninety-six,” Cromwell replied. “Almost a sixth of the planet’s population.” 

“It wasn’t my fault!” 

“You didn’t declare the move to Starfleet or the Federation. You didn’t declare the move to me. You knew it was there, and you let those people continue at risk! Don’t tell me it wasn’t your fault!” 

“You were stealing from me!” 

“We were protecting you, god dammit!” 

“This was for the people, Commodore! The scientific advancements and–“

“Don’t try to make this some sort of altruistic act of rebellion!” Cromwell waved the man off as he stepped closer to the view screen, “This was about greed. This was about notoriety. This was about you, selfishly fighting to keep something that was endangering everyone on your planet,” Cromwell spat back. “Do you understand the level of risk you took? You’re lucky it was only the people in this facility! What if it had been more? What if it had been the entire planet?”

“Commodore, you don’t get to judge me!” The man spat back.

“Go to hell, Pavel. You called me for some sort of absolution and I refuse to give it. You were reckless, you put your own personal aggrandization and scientific research ahead of the importance of human life, and that is an unforgivable sin. You were willing to put people at risk in the name of notoriety and a few experiments. That is wholly unacceptable!” 

“You don’t understand!” 

“You’re right, I don’t. And I’m damn glad I don’t understand that! Get off of this line, begging for forgiveness, and get to the site to help clean up the mess you made, Doctor. You’ll find no mercy here.” 

Cromwell jerked his hand along his throat and DeMont killed the feed. He walked back to the command chair and sat, staring at the ruins below on the view screen. 

“A bit harsh, but not undeserved,” Dumouchel said, shaking her head slowly as she looked at the destruction below. “I can’t imagine letting this happen all just to keep a chunk of some Borg ship.”

Cromwell sighed, “He’s lost perspective. Well, he had… I have a feeling it was just brought painfully back,” Cromwell’s heart was breaking looking at the smoke still billowing up into the atmosphere. 

“Oui, that is… abundantly obvious.”

“Mister DeMont,” Cromwell said, looking over his shoulder.

“Aye, Commodore?” The young man said.

“Let the Federation HQ on the planet know that we’re available to assist an any rescue or relief operations,” He said. “I have a feeling they’re going to need all the hands they can get.” 

The tension in the dim red light of the bridge aboard the Lafayette was almost tangible. With the Borg Sphere getting closer and closer every moment and a dangerous maneuver ahead of them, the entire crew was feeling the weight of the moment. Cromwell sat in the center chair, working his jaw. This was exactly how he’d hoped this mission would not go, but there was nothing he could do about that now. 

The chronometer at the bottom corner of the view screen ticked down, closer and closer to 0. Only a handful of seconds remained now, “All hands… brace for impact,” Cromwell called, knowing damn well that hitting those subspace eddies was going to feel like slamming into a wall. 

Rawles hands hung motionless above the maneuvering controls, ready to start working as soon as they dropped out of hyperspace. He was mentally going over every possibility in his brain. The only one that didn’t seem likely was success. 

“Shield harmonics are ready, Captain,” DeMont called from where he was huddled over the Ops console with Dr. Rodriguez. 

Cromwell watched as the last seconds flicked away, “Here we go…” 

The strung out star lines vanished, replaced with a roiling miasma of green methane clouds suspended in space. The Lafayette shook like she was trying to tear herself apart. The bridge became a din of screams and shouted status reports as plasma coils blew and EPS manifolds sent shrapnel from console screens shooting through the air. Several folks found themselves back against the hand rails, and the CO had found a new spot on the floor, “Report!” He barked as he scrambled back up into his seat.

“I’ve lost helm control, our navigation system is dead in the eddies!” Rawles called from the helm. 

“We’re working on it, sir! Our arrival into the nebula threw off the wave pattern of the eddies. We’re trying to compensate for that now,” DeMont replied. “Won’t take too long.” 

“Where’s that Sphere?” 

“Just came out of warp behind us. It’s drifting too, so they’re definitely still having the same issues, but inertia is still carrying it toward us,” The Bajoran man at the Tactical station called out. 

“How long until they’re within weapons range?” 

“Three minutes, sir.” 

Cromwell jammed a finger at DeMont, “You’ve got two to get those harmonics fixed.”

“Aye, Commodore!” 

“What’s the status on our transporters?” 

“Online, sir.” 

“That’s at least a bit of good news. As soon as we have navigational controls again, I want us headed out of this nebula and I want the Borg cube chunked beamed out between us and the Sphere in the biggest pocket of methane you can find, understood?” 

“Yessir!” 

Cromwell took his seat and stared out the window at the Nebula beyond. Every second ticked by like an eternity knowing that Sphere was slowly closing and if they weren’t careful they were sitting ducks. He was trying to not think about any further worst case scenarios. 

Dumouchel, who had managed to maintain her seating during the jump out of warp space, finally spoke up, “Mon Capitaine, the Borg Sphere has reoriented itself and it’s moving toward us at a considerably increased pace!” 

“Dammit! Tac!” 

“Confirmed sir, looks like they’ve adapted. They’re charging weapons. They’ll be in range in thirty seconds!”

“Mister DeMont!” 

“Almost there!”

“Get there now!“

“Just another second!” 

“Nick!” 

“Go! GO NOW!” 

“On it!” Rawles’ hands were already on the controls, kicking the impulse engines to high and swinging the ship around against the eddies. The shield harmonics were a vast improvement, but moving the Lafayette through the subspace eddies felt oddly akin to hydroplaning in a car. Still, to his credit, after a moment of fiddling with the controls, he had it figured out. “We’re heading toward the edge of the nebula. Thirty seconds till we’re out.” 

“Beam that shit off of my ship!” Cromwell yelled. 

“Transport complete!” 

“Tactical… Fire!” 

The familiar noise of a photon torpedo launch filled the bridge as DeMont swapped the view screen to an aft view. The Sphere was closing in on the chunk, but so was the photon torpedo. It hit the cube wreckage and detonated, followed by a magnificent secondary explosion as the methane cloud around it ignited. The Sphere was completely caught off guard and took the brunt of the damage with out even flinching, causing cascading explosions across is black, green lit exterior. 

Cromwell watched with half a smile as the Sphere slowed and stopped, finally shrinking in their rear view instead of relentlessly pursuing. He’d hoped for a final glorious destruction, but he wasn’t granted one, just left with a wonderful memory of a Borg Sphere hobbled, sparking and smoking in a merciless nebula deep in space. 

There was a silence on the bridge as he stood there, watching, as the rest of his crew all tried to absorb that they’d survived. They had another run in with the Borg and they’d all made it this time. 

Finally, Cromwell turned back to the Ops station, “Status report?” 

“We’ve got power failures and system outages across six decks, but… other than that sir? No major damage, no hull breaches, no fatalities… We came out okay! Everything is okay!” 

That was all it took the break the silence on the bridge as a fury of cheers broke out into the room. Cromwell got a few hugs, but he had no idea from who as he watched the sphere get further and further away. Even Rawles had a smile on his normally stoic face as everyone celebrated. 

Cromwell finally spoke over the noise, “DeMont, Rodriguez, Rawles? Good job! Hell of a plan!” 

“I thought it wasn’t going to work there for a minute,” Rawles admitted. 

Cromwell laughed, “Well, the only thing that really matters is that it did.” 

“Alright, alright! Everyone, to your stations!” Cromwell called, smiling at everyone as they hurried past, ready to get back to work. “Mister Rawles, maximum warp out of here, yeah? And scramble our warp signature so our lovely friends here don’t come looking for us when they get out,” He said, retaking the center chair. 

Dumouchel grabbed is harm and squeezed it gently as he sat down, giving him a bright grin, “One hell of a first mission together, non?” 

“You’re telling me,” Cromwell replied with a laugh. 

As Jason rolled the Lafayette and set them back into warp, the young woman sitting at the comms station spoke up, “Sir, urgent message from Candera Prime. It’s a mayday distress beacon.”

Cromwell looked at Dumouchel and frowned, “Mr. Rawles, back to Candera Prime, maximum warp.” Something had been sticking in his mind since they’d left and he had a sinking feeling he’d figured out what it was now…