Things on the USS Jaxartes had kind of settled back into a normal routine; at least as normal as the crew of the compact Raven Class corvette could ever hope at least.  They were part way through the second week of a routine patrol along the border.  Once a clear dividing line between the Romulan Star Empire and the Federation: disasters, conflicts and upheaval had left a complex mess which required careful monitoring.  The ‘Jax’ could shepherd wayward freighters and deal with the odd small pirate ship here and there, but for anything bigger, the services of a larger vessel may be needed to be called upon.

For those affected by the Borg and their plans to take over the Federation by a mass assimilation via the Transporter system their lives had been altered like countless others within Starfleet.  Some changes on the surface seemed minor, others much more profound.

For Lieutenant Junior Grade Jason Devron the thing that had struck him the most was the silence.  His time in the collective may have been short; but there had been so many voices, so many thoughts; though all with a single goal.  Now he heard nothing but his own worry and self-doubt.  He tried to put on a brave face for his crew, he had to, he was their captain and they had to trust his leadership and decision making skills.  Only Doctor Phoebe Andrianakis their Greek civilian medic was truly aware of the turmoil going on in his head right now.  They had both formed a close bond during her time on board, and had grown closer during the recent events back on Earth.  It wasn’t love or anything as deep as that; but a clear mutual understanding, trust and respect of each other.  They knew each other’s past, hopes, dreams and secrets.  They knew more about each other in fact than anyone else.

Jason had been finding difficulty sleeping; it wasn’t so much the nightmares.  Those dreams still came now and again.  When you’re face to face with a man your strangling to death, even if you’re not in control of your own actions; the image does stay imprinted on your mind.  It was the quiet that got him; all alone in the dark silence of his quarters aboard ship.  Some nights he’d sleep on the floor; ear resting to the deck plating so he could feel the subtle vibrations and hear the gentle hum of the ships engines.  That though wasn’t doing his neck any good, so on other nights he’d drift off to sleep to the aid of classical music wafting in the air.

This time however it was the floors turn, and were he found himself when the early morning wake up alarm chirped loudly. “Computer cancel alarm.” He called out after rousing from his slumber and rolling on to his back.  The ships computer acknowledged the request and the noise ceased. “Computer; any chance of raising the floor?”

“Unable to comply.”

“Thought not!” Grumbled the young lieutenant to himself. “I guess I’ll have to get up myself then.”  Jason sat up rolled on to his knees stood up slowly stretched and headed for the shower.

**********

For Lieutenant Junior Grade Lyanna Stuart the half Orion, half Human First Officer/Chief  Helm Officer the experience of being taken over by the Borg had impacted her mentally; though possibly not as strongly as her captain.  For Lyanna the changes that weighed on her mind had been physical.

Interspecies relationships had always been a little complicated; the biology of different races weren’t necessarily harmonious.   In the case of Orion’s and Human’s it had proven a bit of a lottery.  Some of those with mixed parentage had been born and suffered no ill effects.  A couple had sadly died at birth or soon after.  For her though the solution had been tablets; one every twelve hours, preventing the Orion parts of her body attempting to destroy what it felt was the invading human organs she’d been born with.

The Borg had changed that though.  In their quest to create a perfect drone to serve the collective the Borg genetic elements that had been within her body had made subtle alterations to the makeup of her DNA.  Seven tablets in a small plastic tub sat on the table, seven tablets Lyanna would never need to take because the Borg had rendered her body 100% compatible.  The Borg had managed something the doctors couldn’t, they’d cured her, and how she hated them for it.  How dare they mess with her body and manipulate it.  How dare they change what she was.  How bloody dare they!  The Borg had taken away something that had made her rare in the universe; they’d taken part of her identity.

Stuart could have deposed of the tablet, but she’d kept them as a reminder that no one is truly perfect, no matter how hard they or anyone else tries to change and manipulate things.

**********

Ensign Tholakath was angry with himself; the small corvette only had a limited crew and as such no dedicated security chief onboard.  It therefore had fallen to the tactical officer to monitor that sort of thing.  So on that note the young Cardassian blamed himself for not realizing that the Korean communications officer was really a Changeling imposter.  The fact that the rest of the crew; including the guy Ensign Cho had started dating hadn’t figured out the switch either, hadn’t really registered in his mind.

The Changeling in the guise of Cho had been responsible for the reprogramming of the transporter, allowing it to add the Borg alteration to any crewmembers using the system without their knowledge.  Had more of the crew used the transporter before the activation signal had been sent, they too would have fallen under the Borg influence.

He’d taken his anger and frustration out on various pieces of equipment in a couple of gyms and spared against a number of computer generated opponents in the holo-sweet; whilst on Earth.  None of this had really worked, and a part of him could understand why.  In the end help for the young Cardassian had come from an unusual source and with the help of his Caitian roommate.  It was true what they said about Tribbles, they really were a soothing and calming influence.  Though finding the creature at the bottom of the bed under the cover may not have been the best introduction.

**********

It wasn’t just the bridge officers that had been affected; two of the crew had also been taken over by the Borg.  Crewman Derek Lightwood had lost an older brother on Sol Station, killed whilst defending the huge structure from the rampaging hordes of Borg controlled Starfleet personnel and the armada of vessels surrounding it on three sides.

The funeral had been tough Scott’s body hadn’t been found, and their last exchange of words hadn’t been all together that friendly.  Had five years really past since that fight?  It was the last time they’d spoken, now he’d never get the chance to put things right.

Sitting in the church, alone and slightly away from the rest of the family during the service; he’d been lost in thought and regret, when he felt something brush against his arm.  Derek opened his eyes to find Cassey his brother’s seven year old daughter.  The young blonde wrapped her arm around his and leaned into him.  “It’s ok to feel afraid and alone.” She said softly, looking up into his eyes. “Daddy’s not coming home now, is he?”

He kissed his niece on the top of her head.  “No sweetheart your daddy’s not coming home.” He fought back the tears welling up inside.  “But I know he loved you and your mom very much.”  That’s how the fight had started.  He’s brother was going to leave the women he loved and daughter because he didn’t feel it was right dragging them around the galaxy and exposing them to possible hostile dangers.  Derek had told him straight how stupid and self-centered that sounded.  Starfleet was full of families; all living perfectly normal lives on star ships, space stations and planetary installations.  At some point Scott had seen sense and even married Alice, now seated three rows forward next to her parents.  But by then Derek had left for the Starfleet Academy on Mellstoxx III.  The two brothers had never had the chance to make up; even though communication wouldn’t have been that tricky.  But then mother always did say how stubborn and pigheaded the pair of they were.   She was a widower herself; dad had died in the same battle aboard the Inquiry class vessel USS Shackleton.  His funeral had been five days previous.

How many other families had lost someone or like theirs two people, how many had lost more than that?  Could he really go back into space after all this?  It was the young girl that answered the question on his mind, as if she’d read his thoughts.  “Daddy and grandad would want you to go back.” She said squeezing his arm tighter. “I can look after mom and nan.  I have to be a big girl now.”

Derek rested his head gentle on top of young Cassey’s; tears now running down his cheek.  How did someone so young get to be so brave and wise?  Yes, if there was still a space available to him; he’d be back aboard the Jaxartes or any other ship for that matter.  They’d been a member of each generation of the Lightwood family aboard starships even before the legendary NX class had journeyed into the far reaches of space, and that tradition wasn’t about to come to an abrupt end.  Whether the young girl next to him followed those well-worn footsteps; only time would tell.

That had been a month ago, and now he was aboard the Jaxartes, trying to live life and do his job the best he could.

**********

For crewman George Tyson things had taken a rather odd twist.  When the Borg signal had been transmitted neither of the senior engineers had been affected; for the simple fact they hadn’t used the transporter since the alterations had been made, unlike George had.  As an engineer himself, he knew some of the basics regarding the running of a ships engines and their general maintenance.  But within moments of being taken over, he had the collective knowledge and wisdom of hundreds of Starfleets finest young engineering minds.

However despite the link being broken when the Borg transmitting device had been destroyed; some of those thoughts and ideas from people he’d been linked to had somehow remained, locked away in his mind.  An indication of this had come a few days later; when all of a sudden at 3am he’d leapt out of bed with a sudden thought regarding a random power coupling on a ship he’d never set foot on.  A frantic rush to locate and communicate with the crew of that vessel led George to discover the problem had been a genuine one and had been fixed over a week previous.  A similar thing happened some five days later.  After that though just a few garbled flashes of ideas and then nothing. Now his mind was filled with silence and George missed the voices, longed for the knowledge he briefly had.  The Borg had made him special and liking that probably scared him as much as anything else.

**********

Jason Devron had made his way to sickbay after putting on his uniform and grabbing some breakfast; he was sitting on the edge of a bio-bed whilst Doctor Andrianakis administered some pain relief with a hypo. “You’ve been sleeping on the floor again.” She admonished. “I didn’t become a medic to straighten you neck out every morning.”

The comment was light-hearted but Jason understood what she meant. “It’s a work in progress doc.  But you know how it is.”

Before either of them could say anything else the Lieutenant’s badge chirped. “Devron here, go ahead.” He answered after tapping it. The reply was from Ensign Cho the Communications Officer. “Urgent incoming message sir.”

“Ok patch it through to the doctor’s office.” He looked up at Phoebe just to make sure it wasn’t a problem before jumping off the bed. “I wonder what they’re throwing us into this time?”

Captains Log:  Having just received an urgent request to begin searching for three missing shisp near our current patrol zone, I can’t help but feel a little apprehensive despite reassurances that the Borg are not involved, and I must make the crew aware of the possibility that this information may be wrong.

I had hoped we’d seen the last of those cybernetic monsters; yet somehow they have managed to survive once again.  If we have to face them, I’m sure I can count on the crew to perform their duties to the upmost.

On a personal note; having been in the grip and under the influence of the Borg once already, no matter how short a period, I don’t ever want to go back there again. I will do everything in my power to make sure of that. 

End Log

**********

Soon after receiving the message and making a brief log, Jason Devron had gathered most of the senior staff in the Aft Observation Lounge. He motioned for them all to take a seat having more or less arrived together, before taking his own seat at the head of the table. “As I’m sure some of you will be aware, we’ve received an urgent message.” He paused for a moment, calling up the relevant information he required. “This is the USS Adriatic, currently under the leadership of Commander Rohdat. She has a crew of 31 aboard most of which are fresh out of the Academy.” The Captain pointed at the image of a rather old and typical example of the Maranda class workhorse. “The Adriatic was escorting a pair of transport vessels to the planet Tartarus II and all three are overdue with their arrival.”

“How late are they?” Lyanna enquired.

“Just over 36 hours.” Replied her captain. “Tartarus II has a large mining community and the two ships were delivering new drilling equipment, amongst other general supplies.”

“Why pick us though?” Tholakath asked resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. “We aren’t exactly equipped for this.”

“Normally I would agree with you there.” Devron paused, knowing what he was about to say would have as much an impact on those sitting around him as it did when he’d heard the report. “Multiple signals have been detected throughout the Beta Quadrant and 4^th Fleet is sending out what it can to investigate.”

“Signals from what exactly?” His first officer probed.

“Borg.” Shock and silence momentarily fell across the room, at that one word from the young Lieutenant’s lips

“Are we being invaded?” It was doctor Andrianakis’s turn to ask the question.

“As far as I’ve been made aware these signals are coming from individual items, such as weapons, equipment, or even lost drones rather than a cube or sphere, at least not an intact one.”

“Any of them connected with the disappearance of the Adriatic?” Came the Cardassian’s response to the news.

“No signal has been detected within the vicinity of our search area.” Jason stated honestly.  “With any luck it’s just a problem with one of the transport vessels and we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Famous last words.” Lyanna whispered leaning closer and giving her captain a half smile.

He ignored her comment feeling the crew of this corvette had already got mixed up in more of its fair share of fights, and crossing paths with the Borg so soon was the last thing any of them wanted. “Ok, you all know what needs to be done, so let’s get at it.”

They all stood gathered up anything they’d brought with them and exited the room.

**********

A couple of minutes later Lieutenant Devron was taking his seat on the bridge; Lieutenant Stuart had just exchanged the helm position with Ensign Harris. “New course laid in all controls reading green.” The Orion called out over her shoulder. “Warp engines standing by on your command.”

“Very good.  Warp 7 if you will number one. Hit it.” Ordered Devron.

“Aye Captain Warp 7 engaged.” Slender green fingers danced lightly across the console, and the stars on the view screen in front turned from small points to streaks as the ship leapt forward.

**********

It took the USS Jaxartes a little under twenty-one hours to reach the start of their search area, dropping out of warp they began a careful scan of this particular region of space; quickly picking up the telltale signs that indicated the missing ships had indeed pasted this way.

With Ensign Harris back at the controls, Devron, who he’d just woken up, instructed him to alter course and follow the trail at warp 3.  Within less than an hour Ensign Tholakath had something on the long range scanners. As they closed in C’Rren confirmed it was the missing USS Adriatic.

“She appears to be adrift captain.” Tholakath informed his commanding officer.

“Yellow Alert, shields up. Drop us out of warp Mr Harris; close in at one quarter impulse.” Jason instructed the helm office. “Close to two thousand meters and hold position relieve to the Adriatic. Everyone keep your eyes peeled and your wits about you.”

“Captain I’m not getting any response from the automatic hail.” His communications officer informed him.

“Thank you Ensign Cho.” He acknowledged. “Inform command we’ve located the USS Adriatic, but not the transports she was escorting.”

Ensign Harris confirmed that the ship was in position alongside the other Federation Vessel and maintaining a steady distance.  There were clear signs of damage; noticeable scorch marks across the top of the saucer and the strut connecting the port nacelle had been partially severed.  However all told the ship seemed in remarkable good condition considering it must have been in some sort of fight.

The next piece of news was something no one wanted to here. “Detecting evidence of Borg weapons fire, including cutting beam.  Though at greatly reduced power levels.” The Cardassian ensign at tactical reported.

“I’m not picking up any life signs either captain.” The Caitian added from the back of the bridge. “Though there are two areas my scans are unable to penetrate.”

“Any reading on power and life support.” Devron asked half turning towards the science officer.

“Power levels minimal throughout the ship; life support running on backup systems only.” Was his answer.

The captain briefly tapped away at the small control panel mounted within the arm of; one was a request fort Lieutenant Stuart to come to the bridge, which she duly did a few moments later.

Jason stood up from the captain’s chair. “Number one you have the bridge.” He politely informed the young Orion. “Ensign Tholakath you’re with me. Let’s see if we can figure out what’s going on.”

“Sir do you feel it wise beaming over?” Lyanna asked her commanding officer. “Strictly speaking leading an away mission; especially into a potential hostile situation is my responsibility.”

“Lieutenant Stuart is correct.” The Cardassian chipped in.

“You two worry too much.” Jason smiled at them both. “Besides we’ll be going in armed, just in case. Ok?”

The two officers nodded in acknowledgement. “Aye sir, you’re the boss.” Lyanna responded.

Devron exited the bridge with Tholakath hot on his heels as Stuart took the captains seat.

Status Update

Emergency Command Status:    Active

Designation Command Node One:    Active

Communication Link:    Severed

Resonance Signal:    None functional

Structural Integrity:    17.87%

Repair Time:    1764.2 Hours at current capacity.

Transwarp:    Inoperative

Warp:    30% Efficiency

Additional Information:

Cascade failure: Sections 107, 108, 109, 231 and 418.

None compliant units terminated.

New vessel detected. Type Raven Class. Threat level minimal.

Continue acquisition.   

—————

He had once been human; many years ago.  Some may have even called him handsome, though the features that once made him stand out had long since been covered by Borg implants. The blonde hair was all gone. The dazing blue eyes had turned cold and dark, or at least the one he still possessed had.  The sun-tanned skin had become grey and leathery. Now he looked almost indeterminable from any of the other drones within this cube.

When the cube had been heavily damaged due to a fluctuation in the Transwarp conduit it had been travelling along; the link with the collective had been lost.  Of the 92 thousand drones aboard Cube 4738; 85% had either been destroyed or shutdown due to loss of power in their section of the vessel.

Several units had displayed independent thinking upon reactivation and those drones had been dealt with swiftly to avoid the spread of none compliance.

This unit had been part of Matrix 27 up until that point, but with connection to the collective lost; a unit would be required to take temporary control and connect directly to the Vinculum.  He had been selected for the simple reason that this sector of space had once been his home and as such he still retained retrievable data with which to guide the cube as it searched for replacement units, resources and technology with which to make the needed repairs.

The first Federation ship they had encountered had been easy to deal with.  It had been a Maranda Class.  Old and far from a challenge in combat for any Cube; even one in a heavily damaged state, such as this one.  That coupled with the fact, as a human he had served aboard a vessel of this class and therefore had knowledge regarding the quickest and most efficient way to deal with it.

Just over 14 years ago he had been known as Lieutenant Mark Jefferson, Assistant Chief Engineer of the USS Trinity, now his designation was ‘Node One’ and he was in command of Borg Cube 4738.

The bridge of the Adriatic was dimly lit by the emergency lighting and the constant flashing of the ‘Red Alert’ signs, the accompanying alarm having long since ceased.  Presently three figures slowly materialised as the glow of a transporter beam briefly illuminated the interior, casing shadows across the control surfaces, walls and deck.

Lieutenant Jason Devron at the centre of the group held his phaser at waist height carefully scanning his surroundings the moment his body took solid form.  Ensign Tholakath who now stood to his right held his weapon a little higher; had been puzzled as to the reason why his captain had chosen to carry an older model type one phaser, not knowing the significance that this particular weapon carried for the young man.  The final member of the team a fresh faced beanpole of a crewman barely seven weeks out of training stood almost motionless, save for the slight shaking of his outstretched arm, in the hand of which he held his own phaser.

Whether it was the nervousness of his very first away mission or the lifeless eyes of the female Deltan staring back at him from the helm seat she occupied wasn’t clear.  Either way the young man wouldn’t be much use if he remained this agitated.  Jason calmly placed his hand just past the crewman’s elbow and gentle pushed. “Easy Appleby, everything’s fine.” He reassured the man as much as he tried to reassure himself of the situation.

The Cardassian stepped forward gently closing the dead woman’s eyes. “May your soul know peace and the answers to the questions the living still seek.” He whispered softly, before backing way slightly.  Of the bridge crew only one other body remained.  Face down, one leg half bent and resting across the other, arms spread wide.  Wearing command red the Bolian; Commander Rohdat, lay were he’d feel defending his ship.

Devron tapped his comm-badge; first to reassure Lieutenant Stuart they had arrived safely, then to check on Torf and his group who’d just been beamed directly to engineering.  The Betazoid engineer gave him a rough appraisal of situation and how long he felt it would take to restore power to the ships systems.

It took roughly seven minutes to route power through to the bridge and at least bring some on the controls back online.  Science Station Two appeared to be functioning the best so it was from there that Jason began calling up the ships log and whatever other information might be to hand.

Status reports gave him the general gist of the USS Adriatic’s current condition, though it would take the keener more astute eyes of his engineer to inform him as to how much was fixable and what was now a pile of scrap.  He didn’t need a computer or engineer to tell him, that with the damage to the strut above the port nacelle; this ship wouldn’t be going to warp anytime soon.

A few minutes later he’d located the latest Log entries.  Calling up one of them, he was presented with the image of the Bolian Commander looking concerned.

< “This is an emergency distress call to any vessel in this sector, if you can hear this, we are engaging the Borg, I repeat we are engaging the Borg.” >

Devron knew that no one had ever received that message or any other which may have been sent from the Adriatic.  He could only assume the Borg or some natural phenomenon had blocked communications. The next entry Jason called up was in fact the previous one.

< “This is the USS Adriatic.  What we previously believed to be a sensor echo from a passing comet has turned out to be something far more sinister.  I can’t believe we hadn’t figured it out.  But the whole thing just seemed so stupid and unimaginable!” Rohdat paused a moment looking across to an unseen member of the crew.  What the other person had said was unclear, but the Commander had simple shouted back. “Do it!” The recording continued. “I’ve ordered the Sandvik and Komatsu to get out of here at their best possible speed.  We will turn and face the Borg Cube.  I don’t fancy our chances, but every second we buy those transports is worth it.  We will engage in eight minutes, I know my crew will do me proud.” The Bolian paused again looking at each of those around him. Then leaned closer to the screen, he said softly. “To anyone that hears this recording.  Tell my wife she’s the most annoying female I have ever known, but I love her with all my heart.” >

The screen went blank as that recording ended.  Devron looked back across to the fallen commander and then back to the controls as he set about transferring as much data as he could to the Jaxartes.  Tholakath and Appleby had taken a look around the corridors and rooms adjoining the bridge but had found no more bodies, just the signs of a struggle here and there.  Once the Lieutenant was satisfied the information was being whisked away, he made contact with the Betazoid in engineering to see if he could get the turbo lift working.

**********

When Acting Chief Engineer Albert Torf beamed into engineering with crewmen Tyson and N’Quith; the room was in almost total darkness.  The emergency lighting did little to illuminate anything other than the central control island and a few key pieces of equipment dotted around.  The Red Alert signs flashed away until Torf cancelled the alarm.  He and Tyson began running through the system, slowly discovering what was functioning and what would need repairing first. Where things could be bypassed and power re-routed. Whilst N’Quith kept a watchful guard over the door.

It was towards the being of this task that the Betazoid received the first communication from his captain.  His analysis of the situation was simple.  The warp core would take 3 to 4 hours to restart, though with the damage to the strut it would be impossible to use the warp engines any way.  Impulse engines and manoeuvring thrusters appeared fine.  Shields were down and would require at least an hour to recharge, though two emitters on a section of the port side appeared to have been totally destroyed.  Life support could be restored to 80% of the ship but parts of deck 4 would be a no go area for at least a day or two.

After a few minutes the pair of them had restored lighting, got life support running normally on most of the ship and sealed off the damaged second on deck 4.  Torf couldn’t help notice how efficiently Tyson when about the task in hand; as if he knew almost as much as the Betazoid did himself.  Yes the young Irishman asked question, but that was more to confirm he was about to do something the right way, rather than seeking guidance outright.

As they continued their work, the captain made contact again, this time asking if power could be restored to the turbo lift. He also asked for conformation regarding the sections the scans had not been able to penetrate.  One was those sections was on deck 4 now sealed the other a lab room on deck 3.  It was to this location Devron therefore wished to head.

**********

The lift came about five minutes later, it moved sluggishly compared with what would have been expected, but it still delivered the three men to their destination safely.  The Cardassian poked his head out looking along the corridor in both directions, before stepping out fully, keeping his weapon ready to respond to any threat at a moment’s notice.  Devron and Appleby followed him out and the three walking along the corridor taking a left at the next junction.

The lieutenant stopped, by one of the doors.  “Room 322, Lab C.” He announced in a half whisper.  The door itself didn’t open automatically upon sensing someone outside, nor did it move when Jason tried the door release.  Assistance came via crewman Tyson back in engineering who was able to override the security measures locking the door.  As it swished open the three Starfleet crew where confronted by a tall dark skinned man in his mid-thirty’s wearing teal and a Borg Drone.

Wearing the rank of Petty Officer, the man held a phaser directly at the Borg who was in the far corner of the room, looking in a far more distressed state than anyone would expect to see a member of the collective.  It began speaking before anyone else did, not in the normal controlled emotionless way expected, but a crazed babel.  “The voices they are gone, all I hear is silence, maddening silence.” He looked right at Devron. “But you know that to, it’s in your eyes.  You suffer from the silence to.  It’s always in the eyes.  Look at the eyes!”  Those last four words were given emphasis almost shouted out like a warning of some sort.

Jason turned fired and struck the Petty Officer in the chest.  Tholakath and Appleby watched in stunning silence unable to believe what they had just witness, then followed the shocking realisation that the man in teal was still standing despite the high energy blast that should have killed him outright. “Resistance is futile.” Came the harsh cry from his lips.  This time all three men fired and the figure before them was vaporised in an instant.

The Borg Drone had dropped to his knees and was sobbing. “What have I become, they took it all away!”

“Are there any more like you or him on this ship?” Shouted Devron.

“One, Engineering.” Was the answer he received.

Tapping his comm-badge, the Lieutenant made contact with the other group. But rather than the reassuring reply he expected, the first thing he heard was a blood curdling scream.

Lieutenant Devron and Ensign Tholakath had raced out of the lab leaving Crewman Appleby to keep an eye of the snivelling Borg Drone, if having apparently regained his human emotions could be still classed as a Drone.  The two officers were sprinting towards engineering having heard a scream over the comms and realising their colleagues were in immediate danger.

“How?” Yelled the Cardassian; in reference to the fact his captain had realised the more human looking of the two occupants of room 322 was the real danger.  This was the second time he’d failed to spot something which could have cost lives; the first being the Changeling incident.  Then again it had cost one life in the end, that of the grandfather to the man he was now trailing down the corridors of the USS Adriatic.

Jason skidded to a halt needed to get a door open before they could continue.  “That Borg basically yelled it at me.” He replied breathlessly. “Three armed men burst into a room and that Petty Officer never flinched or blinked once.”

The door opened and the two recommenced their run. “It’s always in the eyes.  Look at the eyes!” The Cardassian repeated the word the Drone had shouted. “Damn!”  He’d just assumed it was in reference to the loss of connection with the collective, from being part of one big whole to suddenly finding yourself alone in the universe.

Rounding a corner the two of them found themselves at the secondary entrance to Engineering.  As the doors opened and they looked across the room, the first thing that grabbed their attention was Crewman N’Quith sat on the floor nursing a clearly broken right arm.  Just beyond him lay the partially Borg enhanced body of a man in red coveralls.  A metal lever or spike of some kind, protruding from the side of his neck having clearly been plunged into it with some force.  The figure was shaking involuntary as if unwilling to just give up and die.  But whatever human or Borg elements now constituted as a brain were unable to send any coordinated movements to the rest of its body.

Distracted by the grisly scene before him, it had taken a moment for Jason to realise Crewman Tyson was cradling the inert body of the Betazoid, Torf.  He raced over to them, as Tholakath went to deal with N’Quith.

“That thing stabbed him.” Came the hoarse reply to the Lieutenants unasked question.

Devron tapped his badge. “Emergency Beam out. Ensign Torf has been infected by Borg nano probes.  Hold him in the pattern buffer and attempt to separate them!”

**********

Crewman Lightwood at the controls of the transporter system on board the USS Jaxartes acknowledged his commanding officers request. Beaming the engineer from the Adriatic, he held the Betazoid in the buffer whilst he attempted to remove the Borg elements before completing the transporter sequence.

Doctor Andrianakis rushed into the transporter room a minute or two later; medical equipment in hand, having also been contacted by the captain. She could see the look of stress on the young crewman’s face as his fingers danced across the control panel and he let out the odd curse or two when things weren’t apparently working.  He looked up at her. “I can’t separate the Borg elements. It’s like the transporter can’t recognise them!”

“What about the new protocol’s and modifications made after Frontier Day?” She asked him.

“Different damn Borg. Different damn method of assimilation!”

“Is there anything you can do?”

“Something highly dangerous and totally unethical!” Lightwood tapped out a new set of instructions and the transporter beam vanished.  Phoebe looked at him in shock; but the young man was too busy to notice as his fingers continued to darting around the controls. “Got you!” He yelled triumphantly.

The transporter re-commenced and the body of Albert Torf appeared; covered in a layer of ice crystals.  The doctor ran forward, knelt by the Betazoid and began CPR. “Transfer us to sickbay, now!” She called out.  And within moments the young crewman was back on his own.  He dropped his head in his hands and let out an audible sigh of relief.

What crewman Lightwood had done was a highly dangerous gamble, which even now he couldn’t be sure, was worth the risk taken.  Unable to extract the Borg nano probes from the engineer’s body and knowing they would take control of him fairly quickly he had beamed the Betazoid to a point just outside the hull.  Sub-zero temperatures in the vacuum of space had rapidly froze the man’s body, leaving the only sources of heat coming from the nano’s themselves, which he could then pinpoint and extract.  Lightwood only hoped he’d been quick enough and the doctor could save Albert’s life.

**********

Just over an hour later, Lieutenant Devron had been to check on his engineer.  Doctor Andrianakis had placed  the Betazoid into an induced coma whilst she set about repairing and damage done to his body during the few seconds he’d been in the vacuum of space.  The doctor had found no trace of Borg anywhere and was able to reassure the captain that Turf would recover, but it would take several days of treatment and careful monitoring.

Jason was now however in the brig sat opposite the Borg Drone who had warned him; whilst Tholakath stood guard phaser set on maximum.  Just in case the Borg was able to break though the force field around the cell. Not that the Borg was showing any hint of wanting to escape; in fact so far he’d been fully cooperative.

“Why did you warn me?” He asked simple.

“I have thoughts, memories, and ideas.” The Borg replied. “I may have been like you once.”

“Human, Starfleet?” Jason pressed for clarification. “Do you recall anything from before?”

“I just don’t know. It’s like recalling parts of someone else’s life, or a dream.” The Borg looked himself over. “Whatever I was before, I am a freak and the stuff of nightmares now.”

The conversation carried on for a good half hour, and in that time Jason discovered that the Borg Cube had been heavily damaged losing its link with the collective.  Most of the Drones had been destroyed or left without power. Several of those Drones remaining had; like the one opposite him starting recalling things about their past.  All those others had possible been destroyed.  As for the two former crewmembers of the Adriatic that had been left to deal with anyone that came across the ship, the Drone only knew their adaption had been in connection with information gathered from part of an ongoing experiments being conducted elsewhere.  Experiments to make Borg who could blend in and go unnoticed.

Devron still didn’t have enough answers yet.  Where was this Cube hiding now?  Had it managed to make any repairs?  Had it captured those two transporters?  Where might it head next?  Could he warn anyone in time even if he knew the answer?  The situation was a mess, but at least he had something to report back with. Even though none of it seemed to be good news.

The USS Jaxartes had once more picked up the trail of the two transport ships the Adriatic’s crew had sacrificed themselves to protect.  They’d left the Maranda class star ship and a retrieve crew was on route to pick her up sometime the following day.

The maximum speed of the Sandvik and Komatsu; according to their official specifications was warp 5.37 but that would have been hard to maintain for and length of time, closer to 4.8 would be the best they’d do for any sustained period.  Though with speeds like that the chances of having evaded the Borg, even in an apparently badly damaged Cube still seemed slim. But even a slim chance was worth checking on.

Lieutenant Stuart occupied the captain’s seat for the moment with Ensign Harris at Helm, Tholakath at Tactical and Cho to the back of the bridge monitoring communications.  The young Korean had tried several times to reach either of the two vessels they were tracking down, without any response. “This is the USS Jaxartes to CAT-04 Sandvik and Cat-05 Komatsu, if you can hear me, please respond.” She called out on all frequencies for about the two dozenth time. “Still no response from them.” She informed the First Officer.

“Try again in another ten minutes.” Stuart replied. Then more to herself “Come on where are you, we can’t be that far behind?”  She was about to turn and ask C’Rren the Caitian science officer something, when she remembered he was with the captain and doctor examining the Borg who had attacked and attempted to assimilate the ships engineer.  The radical way in which Crewman Lightwood had saved the Betazoid’s life had by now become common knowledge amongst everyone aboard ship.  Devron had clearly been impressed by the quick thinking involved.

Lyanna settled back into the chair and gazed briefly at the stars streaking across the view screen, before grabbing her PADD and checking through the reports they’d received from other ships in the fleet during the last 24 hours.

**********

Sickbay aboard the USS Jaxartes was slightly crowded right now.  To one side lay Albert Torf; currently in an induced coma and being watched over by the monitoring equipment connected to Bio-bed 1 and the annoyed looking ships EMH. The fact that the first thing from the holograms lips when Andrianakis had re-activated him, had been, “Oh you want me now do you?” rather than the more appropriate and expected ‘Please state the nature of the emergency’ hadn’t really helped matters.  She did wonder how a computer program could be disgruntled in the first place; having a chat and asking the thing what the matter was, wasn’t currently something on her mind though.

Dressed in protective medical gear; Andrianakis, Devron and C’Rren all stood around Bio-bed 2 where the body of one of the Adriatic’s crew now lay.  He’d been stripped of the coveralls he’d been wearing and the bar pulled from his neck.

Whatever the Borg had done to this poor man, they had clearly being trying something different.  On first look he appeared pretty normal.  It was upon closer inspection that the alterations and enhancements became more apparent.  To start with the left eye had been replaced, but in his case the entire implant had been mounted within the eye socket and skull, even reattaching the lens in a bid to disguise the fact.  The left ear also had implants hidden under the skin.  It had only been with the removing of the top of his head, with the aid of a laser saw that these and the numerous Borg devices connected to his brain became evident.

The only other major alteration to his otherwise still human body would have impressed many of the finest surgeons.  The first thing the doctor and her two interested observers noted was the two metal spikes protruding from near the man’s left knuckles, a small amount of dried blood indicated that these had pierced through the skin from the inside.  It was by using these that Torf had been injected with nanoprobes.   The other less obvious thing was a thin scare which ran from the wrist to under the armpit.  The man’s entire arm had in fact been replaced by a mechanical one before skilfully being covered by skin and soft tissue.

This was something unlike anything the Borg had been known to do in the past, this was a whole new level of cunning; and if they perfected the method of hidden argumentation, it could prove to be extremely deadly.  There was also one question amongst many; did the collective have this knowledge or was it something currently unique to this one Cube until such time it could re-establish contact.

Devron thanked the doctor for her work and his science officer who had checked over and studied each of the Borg adaptations as they were removed.  None of them appeared to be functioning, but then apparently that had been the case for other Borg technology that had recently started sending out signals; basically shouting out ‘come fetch me’ to any passing Borg Vessel.  So the Lieutenant insisted all the parts and the body be sealed in a casket from which hopeful no signal would escape.

Jason had removed his protective gear and tossed them in the recycler when he received a message from Ensign Cho on the bridge. “Sir we’re receiving a hail from Tartarus II.”

“Ok Ensign I’ll be right up.” He replied, quickly washing and drying his hands.

Once on the Bridge, Stuart vacated the captain’s seat but remained standing next to it as Devron asked for Cho to put the incoming communication up on the main screen.  The slim clean shaven slight pockmarked and ruddy face of a man in his mid-fifties appeared. “My name is Robert Jefferson, Head of Operations here on Tatarus II.”  The man announced.

“Lieutenant Devron, Captain of the USS Jaxartes, how can we help Mr Jefferson?”

“I think I can help you captain.” The other man responded.

“In what way would that be?” Jason was interested.

“The Sandvik and Komatsu have both made contact with us.  They’ll be arriving in about 16 hours’ time.”  Jefferson boasted proudly. “So you can call off your search.”

Devron looked up to his First Officer; who met his gaze, clearly thinking the same thing he was. Looking back at the screen again.  “Sir those ships had a Borg Cube right on their tail. Have they said anything about it?”

“Are you lot chasing ghosts and shadows again?” The Head of Operations smirked. “There are no Borg around here captain, their escort merely ran into technical difficulties and was unable to stay with the transporters.”

“Mister Jefferson, the crew of the Adriatic are either dead or assimilated!” The Lieutenant raised his voice probably a bit higher than he’d intended. “Are you saying those ships claim to know nothing about it?”

“I’m very sorry for your lose; but that has nothing to do with the Company or our ships.” The man on the screen sounded rather annoyed.

“Sir I insist you don’t allow those transporters to land until we’ve had chance to check them over.”

“Mister Devron, we are already behind schedule as it is!” Barked Jefferson. “I’m not losing any more time hanging around whilst you conduct a time consuming and pointless search of those ships.” The view screen went blank and despite her efforts, Ensign Cho couldn’t get anyone on Tatarus II.

Something was very wrong, and Lieutenant Devron was determined to get to the bottom of it.  The lives of over 3 thousand people living and working on that planet; could be at stake.

“Harris, how long will it take us to reach Tatarus II?” Devron asked his Helm Officer.

“Twenty-one hours at maximum warp captain.”  Was the answer he gave a moment later.

“Bridge to engineer, Mister Tyson.  We are about to push the engines as hard as we dare.  Think you can handle things?”

“I’ll give it my best shot.” Came the Irishman’s reply over comms. “All systems are ready when you are, Sir.”

“Course laid in for Tatarus II.” Confirmed Ensign Harris.

“Hit it.”

Captains Personal Log: I hope the crew don’t realise how worried I am about how this mission is starting to unfold.  Do all officers in command have periods of fear and trepidation, like this? When does bold become foolhardy?  And when does worthwhile become pointless?

For a crew of a ship this small, we’re gone through so much in such a short space of time.  Here I am though, asking even more of them, as we race headlong towards Tatarus II and a rendezvous with either a bunch of hard working miners or a full on Borg invasion!

Whoever said whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, probably never envisioned the Borg.  They have become adept at doing both.

End Log.

**********

As the USS Jaxartes hurtled towards the Tatarus star system and in particular the second planet; Lieutenant Jason Devron gathered the senior staff to pool their knowledge of the system, its planets and inhabitance.

Ensign C’Rren as Science Officer got the ball rolling, by giving a brief account of the location.  The star Tatarus was a Blur Dwarf; small rare and extremely hot.  Orbiting the star where just three planets.

Tatarus I roughly the size of Neptune but that close in proximity to the star that it’s whole surface was basically a molten mass; constantly swirling and warped out of shape by the gravitational forces exerted on it.

Tatarus II was the size of Mars with one small moon; orbiting slightly closer than what’s ideal for supporting life.  Terraformed in 2377 the climate was mostly tropical and well forested across the southern hemisphere, turning to vast endless deserts in the north.  Only 40% of the planet’s surface was covered in water and three quarters of that was in the south.  It was home to roughly three thousand people.  All either working for the same mining company who owned the two transport vessels or being family members of the miners.

Tatarus III was a gas giant on the scale of Jupiter, but rather pink in appearance and had when surveyed in 2371, 27 moon of varying sizes and compositions.

Devron thanked the Caitian for all the information he’d gathered together, before turning to his Tactical Officer for his input on orbital and ground based structures they might encounter.

Being as close as it was to what had once been the Neutral Zone, Tatarus II was reasonable well defended.   Four equidistantly positioned Anvil Class defence platforms provided the majority of that defence.  Despite being civilian designed and build the Anvil was a decent piece of equipment; even if they were now over 30 years old.  Each was equipped with 3 phaser arrays and a photon torpedo launcher with 8 torpedo’s available.  All protected by heavy shielding.  Capable of being controlled from a ground station or acting completely independently, they could feasibly deal with most small to medium threats.

“Thank you Ensign.” Devron acknowledged once all this information had been given out.  “So there you have it.  The basics of what we know.  Any further questions?”

“Yes.” It was his First Officer who jumping in whilst the rest where still absorbing everything. “What are you expecting to do when we get there?”

“A good point.” The captain smiled back. “First off will be to see if the Borg has really captured those transport ships and try to discover what their plans are.”

“Then what?” Lyanna asked. “We’re attempting to make ripples on the water, in the middle of a tsunami!”

“The Lieutenant does have a point.” Tholakath added. “Twenty corvettes couldn’t take out that cube even if it is as badly damaged as our guest implies.”

“I have absolutely no intention of facing off against that Borg ship.” Jason reassured the other officers.  “We’re going in, to scan the star system and report back our findings.”

“Any news on other ships joining us?” Lyanna was again the one posing the question.

“Highly unlikely.” Was the captain’s honest reply. “The Forth Fleet has numerous ships tied up in other Borg related incidents.  Other vessels undergoing repairs and some sitting around in dock without the crews to operate them.”

“Under staffed and under pressure.” The Cardassian sighed solemnly. “Sub staffed et sub pressura, the new fleet moto.”

The others looked at Tholakath, puzzled as to why the Cardassian was quoting Latin.  For his part the young Tactical Officer was just happy he still had one or two surprises under his belt.

Devron stood up. “Believe me when I say I wish it wasn’t us stuck out here.” He announced. “But I know I can count on you all. Dismissed.”

The C’Rren and Tholakath filled out of the room chatting to each other, but Lieutenant Stuart remained were she was. “Something on your mind number one?” The Captain asked his First Officer.

“Oh, always.” She replied matter of factually.  “I just don’t like what we’re running into, and without a Chief Engineer either.”

“Yes not having Lyambo around and now Torf getting attacked has left us in a far from ideal situation.” Devron conceded.

“Have you heard from Dinari?” Stuart asked

“Yes, he’s still training Cadets on the USS Chapel.” Devron couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his friend and one time roommate attempting to train 20 cadets how to operate and maintain the engines on a ship he himself had still been learning about 6 or 7 weeks previously.  “You know they even got him a new trumpet as a way of convincing him to stay and train these new kids.”

“I guess they’d never heard him play?” Laughed the Orion.

“Now, now.  We can’t have dissention in the ranks.” Devron tutted. “I was thinking Dinari and C’Rren could do a duet in the future.”

Lyanna looking at Jason in puzzlement. “Am I missing something here?”

“Our Caitian friend acquired himself a Tribble whilst we were both off ship.” Off ship being a polite way of referring to their time waiting to be cleared for active duty. “And it appears to love listening to him play the flute.”

“Oh, right.”

“Of cause I have absolutely no idea this creature exists.” Devron tapped the side of his nose.  “But you can’t keep things secret on a ship this small.”

Stuart agreed and the two of them left the lounge together.

<Robert Jefferson Personal Log Entry 2561:

I have made a packed with the Devil himself, or more accurately the Borg.  It seems a fair enough deal considering the possible alternatives for both them and the company.  I mean losing a third of the workforce to them rather than every man and woman on the planet sounds like a small price to pay in keeping this facility operational.

A third of the workforce were going to get sacked or reassigned anyway; once the equipment being carried by the Sandvik and Komatsu had been installed.  So those are the names I’ve put on a list for the Borg. At least the Union we’ve got here won’t be able to cry ‘unfair dismissal’; especially as the union boss is top of the list.  Topped with the fact they won’t be around to demand compensation or in fact have any memory to even ask about it, this will save the company a heap of money.

How can I trust the Borg, you might be asking, even after they took my brother.  Well these Borg aren’t acting in the usual assimilate on sight approach everyone usually expects of them.  In fact most of the actually talking was done through the captain of the Sandvik, and he was able to reassure me that the crews on both ships were alive and well.  Which makes me more inclined to believe these Borg.

If I didn’t agree to all this, their Cube would simply blockade the planet and prevent us shipping anything in or out.  The company would not survive long with a situation like that.

The two transports will be here shortly, so I’d better finish preparing for their arrival.

End Log.  >

Jefferson logged off from his office computer and slid back the large black leather executive style chair he was sat in; before getting up and walking round his mahogany office desk.  He picked up his PADD, the one containing the 290 names he planned on handing to the Borg.  As Head of Operations Jefferson had an office in the Main Admiration building which was just a short walk from the Control Tower, were he was heading.

The tower was four stores high, but unlike the smaller building he’d just left didn’t have any lifts.  This had always annoyed the Head, but the company just didn’t want to spend the money to upgrade what was essentially one of the oldest buildings on the planet.  There just hadn’t been the spare power available to operate a lift when the mine was first being set up.  Once the power plant was up and running, the additional building had been created with better facilities, which included working lifts.  So that meant Jefferson had to trudge his way up the central spiral staircase all the way to the top.  He’d never like walking up them at the best of times, now at 53 he liked climbing them even less.

At the top Pat Channing was the first person to spot him.  A thirty something pain in the backside know it all.  He was on the list to. “Morning sir!” Pat said with that awful voice that Robert hated so much.  How could a grown man sound like a girl? “Don’t see you up here much and not this early at any rate.”

Jefferson merely grunted in response.  At least once he was assimilated this idiot might sound nearer to normal.  It was the young man sitting by the large bank of monitoring equipment that he needed to speak with.  Ramesh had turned 25 about a week ago.  He was an intelligent hard working likeable enough man but just a little prone to letting information slip to his overbearing union head of a father.

“Glad you’re here sir.” The young man said in his usual polite manner.

“Oh, why is that?” Robert tried to sound sincere, even though he knew full well, what was going on.

“It’s just that  CAT-04 Sandvik and CAT-05 Kamatsu are on their way in and final approach puts them passing closest to Anvil 1 which is currently going through its maintenance check.” Ramesh

“And you’re wondering whether you should suspend the check and reactivate it so Anvil 1 can do a full scan of the transporters. Am I right?”

The young man nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Do you really think the company is actually going to be sending us anything dangerous?” Jefferson asked him calmly. This part had been planned carefully.  He didn’t want the defence network picking up the fact those two ships contained Borg Drones.  Some idiot might decide to open fire, and those transports and the equipment they carried were rather expensive.

“Erm, well no, sir.” Was just the right answer he hoped and expected Ramesh would give.

“Just guide them in like you normal do and everything will be fine.” The boss reassured him, both in words and a friendly tap on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work.  I couldn’t do this without you.”

Ramesh felt immensely proud of the complement he’d just been given, and puffed out his chest just a little.  It was around seven or eight minutes before the young man received and incoming communication. “This is CAT-04 Sandvik to Tatarus Flight Control. Requesting permission to enter the defence grid.”

“This is Tatarus Flight Control.  You are clear to enter.  Adjust heading to 020-185 and begin decent at grid 4.” The young man replied to the voice of an unseen male.

“Copy that Flight Control.  ETA is three zero minutes.”

Ramesh went through the same procedure with CAT-05 Kamatsu; and had just turned to say something to Jefferson, but the man had already gone again.

**********

As the two large craft came into land; Jefferson was standing behind one of the half dozen protective screens positioned around the landing area.  He’d grabbed a pair of ear defenders upon exiting the tower.  These transports could be rather loud when they landed.  Several other men and a couple of women were positioned behind this screen and the others like it; ready to move forward and commence the unloading one it was safe to.  A pair of tugs and a forklift sat over to one side awaiting their orders.

The dust swirled around in the vortices created by the transports just before touchdown.  A moment or two later the huge cargo door at the rear of both ships began to open.  They weren’t even half way down when Jefferson, one hand over his mouth the other holding the PADD; moved forward towards the Sandvik.

The door and ramp clanked down when he was a mere 15 metres away.  He reached the bottom of the ramp roughly at the same time as a lone Borg Drone did. “Ah, I’ve got the list of names for you.” Jefferson announced as if conversing with the Borg was the most natural thing in the world.  He handed the PADD to the Drone; who looked at it and promptly crushed the device in his hand.

“Hey you stupid oaf!” He exclaimed. “How are you going to know the names of the people your taking?”

“Names are irrelevant.” Replied the Borg. “Resistance is futile.”

Jefferson never got to say anything else before the spike was plunged into him and the process of assimilation was set in motion.  Some of the workers had got rather close before they realised something was amiss.  A few yelled as the realised their boss had just been attacked by a Borg Drone, other just didn’t believe them and carried on walking. It was the four columns of Drones disembarking from the ship, as the same thing happened from the Kamatsu, which finally had them running.  Some hit the alarm and the klaxon started wailing across the landing area.

“Evacuate, evacuate!  Security Teams to defensive positions.” Someone shouted over a tannoy.  The drones opened fire; but their aim was to stun and immobilise rather than kill.  Every able body available would be needed to help repair the Cube.  A half dozen works lay on the ground within the first few seconds of shots being fired; more joined them as the Borg advanced.  Two security guards rounded a corner; dressed in combat armour and each carrying heavy looking energy weapons, but neither man had time to use them before being taken down by the Borg as they matched on.

From a roof top advantage point another guard opened fire.  His first shot missed but the second brought one of the Borg crashing down, another dropped to its knees a moment later; before a number of other Drones returned fire, forcing him to duck down.  The guard was preparing to lean over and fire again, when dirt was thrown up to his right.  The man turned just in time to see a Drone standing next to an open hatch on the roof of the nearest transport.  The second shot dazed him and he felt the world spin before he collapsed.

*********

Pat Channing had made it all the way to the bottom of the stair, when the first of the Borg burst through the door.  One grabbed his arm, swung him round and stabbed him with the spike carrying nanoprobes.

Still at the top Ramesh was desperately shouting over the communications system.  As he heard the clank of drone boots start their slow assent he yelled. “They’re coming for me!”

“Entering the Tatarus system now.” Called out Lieutenant Stuart from the Helm. “Dropping use out of Warp.”

“Red alert.” Shouted Lieutenant Devron from his captain’s seat. “Tell me what you’ve got folks.  Full scans.”

The bridge lights dimmed and the red alert beacons flashed as the alarm sounded.  Devron soon cancelled the noise though and turned to his communications officer, behind and to his left. “Any luck getting them back?”

Ensign Cho had been talking to a rather frantic and panic stricken young man by the name of Ramesh.  The Borg had landed in the two transports, sixty plus drones he’d said.  Most had either headed for the mines themselves or the various site buildings.  He’d reported hearing several shots, shouts and screams, knew of a dozen or more people either killed or stunned; he couldn’t tell which.  Probably twice that number within the building had suffered the same fate. The Borg had lost three may be four of their own in the initial attack, but even the well-armed security couldn’t hinder the slow relentless march.  Then he’d said they were coming up the stairs. That had been over two hours ago.  All the young Korean could do know was shake her head in reply to the question and keep trying.

“Tartarus III appears to have 28 moons.” Ensign C’Rren announced from his science station. “And one of them is square.”

“Confirmed” Added Ensign Tholakath. “One Borg Cube currently in orbit around the gas giant.”

“Keep me informed the moment you see it twitch or glow any brighter.” Jason asked the two of them.

“Aye, sir” They answered in unison.  As the Caitian and Cardassian continued to monitor the Borg cube and anything else within the star system, the Orion First Office flew the Raven Class corvette deeper in, as it headed for the inhabited planet of Tartarus II.

**********

In the Brig the as yet unnamed Borg; no one was using his designation which started four of six, was sat behind the force field under the watchful eye of crewman Appleby.  Though the Drone in question had so far remain fairly quiet and well-mannered the young crewman still kept his phaser ready, just in case.

They both felt when the ship dropped out of warp and the Drone commented as much, Appleby just nodded. Getting up from his bed the Borg prisoner/guest; took a long hard stretch walked to the far wall touched his toes a few times turned round got on the floor and started doing press-ups.  Appleby watched him slightly amused by the novel sight, until the Drone stopped and pressed an ear to the deck. “What’s below here?”

“Storage tanks.” Replied the crewman puzzled by the question. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I think I can hear something!” Announce the Drone. “You listen, see what you think.”

“Come on, your just trying to trick or spook me,” Appleby gave a nervous laugh.

“I’m behind a force field lying flat on the floor; hardly a great spot if I’d thought about escaping, is it?”

The crewman conceded that for a moment, before getting down on his hands and knees close to the cell and pressing one of his own ears to the deck. “Can’t hear anything other than the general hums and vibrations I’d expect.” He said confidently.  With his head down low, Appleby didn’t see the hand pass through the force field like it wasn’t there, nor did he have chance to react to the Drone performing what most knew to be a Vulcan Nerve Pinch, whispering softly, “and sleep”, as it did so.

The Borg pulled back his hand and stood up, before reaching through a second time; further and along the edge of the wall.  Despite not being able to see the keys, he tapped out the correct code at the first attempt and the force field around the cell promptly switched off.  Pushing an arm through the energy barrier took effort and concentration walking through was impossible without triggering alarm, and the Borg didn’t want to attract attention by doing that. Stepping out he took the unconscious Appleby’s phaser from him and exited the room; after a careful check to see it was all clear.

**********

Roughly 15 minutes later alarms started going off on the bridge. “Shuttle bay doors opening.” Tholakath called out as he franticly tried to get them closed again. “Systems locked me out. I can’t override it.”

“Shuttle away!” Stuart announced moments later.

“I’m not registering any life signs aboard.” Came the voice of C’Rren. “Shuttle just jump to warp!”

“Course?” Devron asked, sitting forward in his seat.

“Heading right for the Cube.” Bemoaned the Cardassian. “And now the computer lets me close the door!”

“Do we pursue?” Stuart enquired.

“Negative number one.  Keep on our current heading.”  The captain got up, turned and slammed a fist into one of the arms of his chair. “Damn, I trusted him. Get someone to check on Appleby, quick.”  He paced around the bridge, frustrated and angry before the message came back telling him that the Appleby was stunned but otherwise ok.  Jason flopped back in his seat and stared blankly at the main viewer.

**********

There are times when people do something reckless or stupid out a shear panic and desperation; they don’t always get the opportunity to regret their rash decisions.  Ramesh had faced one of those moment.  Not wished to be captured and assimilated by the Borg; he’d chosen to jump out of the window.  Four floors up as his shocked brain registered seconds after the glass had broken from him charging into it, an un-survivable drop, and momentum would only aid gravity in its quest to smash his body into the ground,

What Ramesh could not have realised before he made his ill-advised leap; was that Borg Drone below, would hear the smash of glass and actually catch him.  The impact was still pretty hard and Ramesh felt the sudden jarring deceleration.  He screamed in agony, sure that is right shoulder was dislocated and two ribs possibly fractured.  The Drone didn’t come off lightly either; its one organic leg braking, causing it to topple backwards.  Ramesh landed on top and rolled away, the Borg had his sleeve rather than arm and his jacket ripped as he pulled free. However this Drone wasn’t giving up just yet and rolled over seizing the man’s right leg. “Resistance is futile.” It informed him.

Ramesh felt something hard near to his hand; gripped it and swung with all his strength at his assailant. “Well resist this!” He yelled; smashing the fist sized rock into the skull of the Borg; once, twice, three times.  He didn’t stop until the Drone slumped lifeless and its vice like hold on his leg slackened.  All he had to do now was figure out how to escape.

**********

The Borg Cube constantly watched and assessed the situation as it unfolded; relaying all information to Node One.  The landing of the two acquisitions had taken place as predicted.  Capture and assimilation of additional units was going along pre-determined paths with a less than 5% deviation.  The Raven class corvette detected earlier had arrived as calculated and was heading for the planet.  If it attempted any hostile activity, it would be dealt with.

The one thing that hadn’t been factored into was the launch of a shuttle, piloted by one rogue drone.  This puzzled Node One; there was insufficient data to formulate an assessment of intent.  Scans had revealed no weaponry, explosive compounds or dangerous biological elements that could pose a threat.  There was no indication of concealment or attempts to confuse the Cubes scanning on the small vessel either.

So Node One allowed the shuttle to fly ever closer in the knowledge it was of no threat.

The USS Jaxartes was in orbit, but for now a mere bystander to the events unfolding on the planet’s surface below.  They were too little and too late, it was as simple as that.  All they could was analyse what the Borg was doing and report that information back.

Around the main landing site were the two transporters now sat having delivered their cargo of doom, the only movement that could be detected was that of the Borg.  It was unclear as to whether the Borg had entered the mines in search of more unwilling recruits to their ranks; but it was highly likely that some of them had ventured underground, beyond the depth that the ships scanners could penetrate.

“All those people and not a thing we can do about it.” Muttered Lieutenant Stuart in frustration.  It was hard to witness, knowing that with every passing minute more and more people were being turned into slaves of the Collective.

“Veni, vidi, expectavi.” The Cardassian sitting next to her added, shaking his head.

Lyanna turned and looked at him bemused.  “What is it with you and Latin?” She asked. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard you use it.”

“I was bored whilst waiting to get cleared for active duty.” Tholakath responding. “And I couldn’t just spend all day at the gym hitting things!”

“You were bored so you learned Latin.” Their Captain chimed in. “You do realise people don’t tend to use it much in polite conversation these days?”

“What can I say?  I love a challenge.” The Cardassian shrugged.  Ensign Cho had been half listening in whilst monitoring communications and trying to contact anyone on the surface. “Not another one of you after my job?” She enquired jokingly, remembering that there Caitian science offer had stood in for her whilst she’d been recovering from her encounter with a Changeling.

It was then that she heard a slight crackle then a voice. “You still there miss?” The young Korean bolted up right her fingers moving across the controls in an attempt to pin point the signal and establish a stronger link. “I thought we’d gone and lost you!”

*********

“You nearly did.” Replied Ramesh. “Those Borg have totally overrun the landing site and mines.”

Several women were huddled together in the corner of the recreation room he was now in.  They were weeping after he’d told them the horrific news of what was going on; their husbands like many other, were working in those mines and the shock that the Borg had probably taken their loved ones was too much for them to handle. For him the adrenaline was still pumping and everything was racing around his head.  The morphine he’d been given after having his arm checked out was just starting to kick in.

Ramesh had been spotted by a maintenance worker soon after killing the Drone that had caught him during his leap to supposed dead.  The two of them had jumped into an electric cart and drove south east towards the bridge which linked the mines with the town the other side of the river.  The cart itself low on power only got them half way across the bridge.  But as no one; Borg or otherwise had followed them, they assumed they’d be safe for a little while.

“I need you to blow up the bridge linking the town.” He informed Cho. “I hope it will prevent the Borg reaching the families here.” He listened to her reply that message to someone else, before she asked him for further details. “There’s an electric cart.  Transponder code 7761-4, I’m sure you can get a lock on it.”

**********

Back on the bridge of the Jaxartes, Ensign Cho relayed the information.

“Can we target that from orbit?” Devron asked his tactical officer.

“I’d advise against it considering the close proximity of civilians, sir.” Tholakath answered.

“I can take the ship in low and reduce any risked to anyone on the ground.” Stuart reassured.

Their captain pondered that for a moment. “Ok let’s do it, I’m sick of just sitting here.” The tapped the communications link on his chair. “All hands secure all loose equipment and objects; we will shortly be conducting manoeuvres within planetary atmosphere.”

He wasn’t expecting to receive any replies, but doctor Andrianakis sounded rather flustered and a little annoyed. “Yes doctor I understand you’ve got a lot of equipment and a patient right now, but isn’t the EMH assisting you?” When he got her rather loud response he was surprised no one else on the bridge heard it. “What do you mean the EMH won’t activate?  I’ll get you some help ok.”  Jason turned noticing the young Caitian looking his way and gave him a thumbs up. “Well volunteered.  Go help the doctor if you please.”

C’Rren wasn’t sure how exactly he’d volunteered himself for the task, nor had he been paying close enough attention to know what the task actual was; just that it involved heading to sickbay. He’s real reason was to inform the captain that their shuttle was currently within half a kilometre of the Borg Cube, having warped half the distance after launch and continuing the rest of the way on impulse.

**********

As part of the collective you had access to every skill and idea that anyone had before their assimilation, and despite the break in connection a lot of that knowledge was still floating around in one particular former Drones mind.  How else had he managed to escape with such ease?  Now he had another task to perform, which would require a little assistance to complete.

When the EMH appeared in the co-pilots set of the Jaxartes shuttle craft it was about to say something, which completely vanished from its processing system the split second it realised, this wasn’t sickbay. “What the heck?” Was what eventual came from his holographic lips. Followed by. “You!?” Half uttered as a question half as a statement.

“I need someone to fly this shuttle back to the Jaxartes after I’ve beamed off.” The Drone announced simply.

“I’m a medic not a taxi service.” Retorted the EMH. “Besides I don’t know the first thing about operating a shu….oh my.” It was at theses point the EMH realised that an additional sub-routine had been uploaded to him memory and he now in fact did possess the knowledge to fly the craft.

“You’ve gone rather quiet.” The Drone gave a half smile.

“You know I could still try and stop you.” The EMH announced. “It is my function and duty to save lives. Allowing you to leave would put you in danger. I cannot permit that.”

The Borg pointed to the roof section of the cockpit. “I only fitted in one emitter; you can’t get out of that chair.” He informed the hologram. “And the emergency transporter isn’t linked up to your console.”

The EMH, gave him a long hard stare; a mix of frustration and annoyance, folded its holographic arms and let out a long loud sigh.  The Drone stepped on to the small transporter pad close to the back of the shuttle. “Tell your Captain, my name was Jason too, many years ago.”  With that he beamed himself across to the Borg cube.

**********

The air seemed still and peaceful; with its rich deep blue sky and the thin wispy clouds dotted around it; a stark contrast to the mayhem taking place below.  So at first there seemed no reason for the distant rumble of thunder that echoed across the heavens; or the roar like a dozen freight trains heading down the track that followed on its heels.  One second it was an ill-defined speck in the distance, but swiftly it grew into a giant angry grey bird.

The USS Jaxartes swept in and fired her phasers with a deafening screech at the bridge. Beams of intense heat and energy sliced through the deck of the bridge and its central support column like a knife through butter; sending a large section crashing into the water below.  Then as quickly as she’d arrived the Raven class corvette climbed up and away.

Lieutenant Jason Devron who had kept a tight hold on the arms of his chair all throughout the manoeuvre, finally let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “Number one, you enjoyed that way too much.  I’m beginning to see how you made Challiner throw up!” He said light heartedly.  Challiner had been her co-pilot when as a cadet before joining the ‘Jax’ she’d rolled a Runabout in a simulation.  The fact it was a mere 100 metres off the ground hadn’t fazed the young Orion one bit.  Lyanna didn’t rise to the comment, knowing how much her friend and Captain trusted her abilities at the controls.

“Mr Tholakath, excellent marksmanship.” Jason added.

“Thank you Sir.” The Cardassian smiled to himself.

“Well that should slow the Borg down a bit.” Devron commented, relaxing just a little, whilst knowing there was so much more they couldn’t do.

“Sir, we have a problem!” The Cardassian Tactical officer announced a short while later. “The orbital defence satellites have just activated.  We’re being targeted.”

It seemed strange beaming on to the Borg cube voluntarily; no one in their right mind would ever do such a foolish thing.  But that’s exactly what he’d done.  He was a stranger in the world they’d dragged him from and now a stranger in this one to.  Memories flashed of his first moments here, screams in the distance had told him he wasn’t alone.  Had anyone escaped that day?  There was the vague recollection of faces, people he must have once known; their names now lost to him.  The ship, yes they’d definitely been a ship.  The stark difference between white and pastel shades, compared to the oppressive eerie darkness and that ominous green glow.   What had they done to him?  Half man, half machine or was any part of him truly human any more.

He should have been as far from here as possible and just kept running, not back a board and heading for the heart of the Cube. The vessel was much darker than it should be; the temperature was still stifling but less oppressive than normal.  Alcove after alcove stood empty or with what remained of a Drone.  The ship consumed its dead; absorbing then bit by bit, finding new uses for the raw materials.  A Borg cube wasted nothing.  Life and death meant nothing; a drone was just part of the equipment and extension of the ship and the collective as a whole.  No one was an individual, except when things started to go wrong, as had happened to this Cube just a few days earlier.

Now it had a leader; a Borg designated Node One.  Even he was showing flaws in thinking and behaviour at odds with the collective.  Cube 4738’s original mission had become irrelevant the moment the Transwarp conduit had collapsed for reasons that were still beyond his or the ships ability to understand.  Protocol would dictate immediate withdrawal using whatever method and route was available.  Another Cube would by now have been tasked with carrying out all uncompleted assignments.

Instead though he’d gone about finding replacements for the many Drones this ship had lost.  But this hadn’t been just some random encounter with the USS Adriatic and the two transports it had been protecting, nor was the planet to which their journey would take them.  No, even though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, a human element had made these choices.  This was just a simple cold and calculated thirst for revenge.

One man had made his young life a misery, forced him to leave home and find a new life elsewhere.  That life had been with Starfleet until the Maranda Class ship he’d been on was captured by the Borg.  That man was his brother Robert Jefferson now Head of Operations at the Tatarus II Mining Complex. Having been the first assimilated on the planet; Node One was taking great pleasure in torturing the mind of the man who, in his eyes had made him what he was now.

When the two Borg finally came face to face; neither of them spoke for at least a minute.  “Why have you returned?” The voice of Node One not only came from the lips of the lead Drone himself but from the two Drones acting as guards either side of him and the very fabric of the Cube.

“This is where I belong.  I cannot be what I once was.” Came the Drones reply

“And yet you defy me.” The voice echoed and resonated.  “Why should I not have you destroyed like all other non-complaints’?”

“I seek the same as you; to re-join the collective.” He held up the equipment he’d stolen from the Jaxartes after his escape and before taking the shuttle; which he hoped the EMH was currently taking back. “With these I will help re-establish the link.”

“I will allow this.” The voice reverberated.  “But any attempt at sabotage or deviation from this task and I will have you ripped limb from limb. Do I make myself clear?”

There it was again; Node One kept using ‘I’ and ‘me’.  The controller of this Cube had started identifying himself as a single entity, rather than part of the whole.  They were both just as broken as each other. It was just only one of them realised that fact.  Both of them though longed to hear the many voices of the collective once more; the universe was too unbearably silent without them.

**********

Another beam of energy lanced out as the USS Jaxartes once more took evasive action to avoid being hit by the phaser fire from one of the four defence satellites.

“That was close!” Exclaimed Lieutenant Devron, as he watched a streak of red zip across the view screen before him.

“They’re trying to predict our evasive manoeuvres.” Lieutenant Stuart at the Helm responded. “Switching to Echo 6.” Only the fact this Raven class corvette was so agile and the satellites in geostationary orbits gave them any sort of advantage; using the curve of the planets upper atmosphere to reduce the arc of fire and only allow one to target them at any given moment, had also improved the situation slightly.

Ensign Tholakath continued to return fire, but the shielding on those satellites was proving to be as hard to penetrate as any combat ready starship; even a direct it from a torpedo hadn’t done all that much to dent them.  The dodging and weaving the Orion next to him was been forced to do was also making targeting a challenge.

Another shot grazed the shielding of the Jaxartes as the ship banked sharply to port. “It’s only taken them four minutes to figure out that pattern!” Lyanna shouted in frustration.  “Let’s try Gamma 2.”  She set the ship on a new pre-programmed set of course changes and the dance with death started all over again.

Three minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, they took a direct hit!  The vessel shook from stem to stern.   The light on the bridge briefly flickered. “Shield at 67%.” The Cardassian informed everyone. “A few bumps but no injuries.”

“Sir, you’re not going to believe this!” Ensign Cho called out.

“Go on Ensign what have you got?” The Captain asked her a he gripped the arms of his chair in anticipation of another tight turn.

“It’s our shuttle sir, and the EMH is flying it!” Cho answered.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Devron came back in surprise. “We’re is it?”

“I have the shuttle.” Tholakath shouted. “Barring 275 mark 078. Range 10 thousand kilometres and closing.”  The young Cardassian would have noticed the small vessel much earlier only he was rather pre-occupied by more pressing matters.

“Are the satellites targeting him.” Enquired Devron.

“Negative sir.  Just completely ignoring the shuttle.”

“Ensign Cho, order the EMH to fly our shuttle towards the nearest satellite.  And I’m damned if I know how he’s doing it!”

There was a brief exchange whilst the EMH tried to clarify what he was being ordered to do and question how safe it was and whether it was something he really should be doing, which came to an abrupt end when a highly frustrated captain yelled loud enough to be heard by the EMH and possible anyone else with half a light year. “Tell that trumped up microchip, if he doesn’t get is ass in gear, my ghost will come back and haunt him!”

The shuttle altering course was an indication that instructions were now being followed.  No one else on the bridge though was exactly sure what their captain was expecting to happen once the shuttle got close to the satellite.   The satellite continued to fire short precise bursts from whichever of its phasers had the best angel on the corvette.  Another hit was inevitable, and when it did come it stuck the ‘Jax’ hard.  With shield down to 38% and systems disabled throughout the ship, they wouldn’t survive the next one.

“We’ve lost the starboard impulse engine.” Called out Lieutenant Stuart. “I’m going to have a heck of a job avoiding the next hit.”

“Aft Phasers down! Added Ensign Tholakath. “Hold on, satellite dropping a section of its shielding to allow the shuttle to dock!”

“Got you!” Yelled Devron as he realised his desperate hunch may actually pay off. “Ensign Cho.  Tell the EMH to ram the lower communications array.”

**********

If anyone had told the EMH that morning; he was going to be flying a shuttle craft and using it as a battering ram to save the lives of the crew aboard the USS Jaxartes, he’d have first laughed at them, injected them with a mild sedative and declared the unfit for duty.  This action was just plan crazy and suicidal.  No one could hope to survive the impact!  The EMH laughed, as it realised were its own thinking had taken it.  No one was going to survive, nor was anyone going to die either; he was just a holographic program after all.  It didn’t seem long since his first activation, time flies when you spend most of it in limbo.  You only realise that it’s gone when someone decides to switch you back on.

So this was to be the last moments and the last act of Emergency Medical Hologram Type 3.2 serial number 001873.

The impact was heavy; it ripped the communications array clean off but in doing so the front section of the small shuttle craft caved in. The shuttle and the array tumbled away out of control, spinning towards the planets upper atmosphere before both objects turned to glowing comets of fire.  Anvil 2, no longer receiving instructions from its Borg controlled ground station automatically reverted back to standby mode.

The Cardassian tactical officer was about to ask the captain how he knew the satellite would respond to the shuttles arrival and wouldn’t continue firing despite losing its link; but the seat behind him was empty.

**********

Lieutenant Devron was standing next to Doctor Andrianakis; facing a rather confused looking EMH. “Would someone explain why I’m missing several hours of data?” It asked in its usual brash tone.

“You just crashed the ships shuttle into a defence satellite.” Jason answered him.

“Oh don’t be so stupid I can’t fly.  I’m not programmed for it.” The EMH replied exasperated.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll explain all the details later.” Devron replied calmly, realising the hologram now working off its backup systems would have no knowledge of how abrasive he’d been whilst ordering it. “I’m putting you forward for a commendation.”

The EMH was stunned into silence, it even sat down on the empty bio-bed; though having neither substance or weight the mattress didn’t sag underneath it. “Oh my!” It simple muttered a few minutes later.

The USS Jaxartes was safe, at least for the time being that was.  With the Borg now unable to communicate with the defence satellite Anvil 2, it was no longer firing at them; and the Borg had made no attempts to re-position any of the other three.

Devron had sent both Lieutenant Stuart and Ensign Tholakath off to rest.  The two of them had worked hard today and had managed to keep the ship in on piece, despite their enemies’ best efforts.  Jason knew he should be resting to, but also realised he wouldn’t get any sleep any way.  How could he sleep?  It had been hard enough before this mission had started.

He tapped the arm of his captain’s chair lightly. “Just get us home old girl.” He sighed. “Just get us home.”

“Sir?” Ensign Harris at the Helm and the only other person currently on the bridge had assumed his captain was specking to him.

“Just talking to myself.” Replied Devron.

“First sign of madness that, Sir.” Harris joked.

“No, the first sign of madness is pitting a Raven class corvette against the Borg!” Jason got up and stretched. “Mr Harris the Bridge is all yours.  So no wild parties whilst I grab forty.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it Captain.” The ensign smiled back. “At least not on a Wednesday.”

Devron smiled back, before exiting the bridge. Wednesday was it; he was glad someone had a clue what day of the week it was. His first port of call was Sickbay.  When he entered Sickbay, he found the EMH working away and whistling a tune to himself.  “Good evening Captain, how may I be of assistance?” The hologram asked detecting the arrival via the sensors within the room before actually turning round.  Jason wasn’t sure what to make of the change in the demeanour of the EMH; the difference between its usual crankiness and its current dare it be said jovial state was rather stark.

It had all stemmed from him trying to explain to the holographic doctor what he’d actually done; because those parts of his memory had been lost when the shuttle was damaged.  That was going to be another thing he’d need to explain to command.  He could see it now, ‘And how exactly did you lose another shuttle?’

The EMH’s polite cough brought the Lieutenant back to reality.  Now that was a new one to, did they ever cough? “I was just checking in on the patient.” He finally got round to saying.

“I’d say rather well, considering what Mr Torf went through.” The EMH didn’t need to consult a PADD to access any information, though he tended to, just to act a little more human. “Doctor Andrianakis hope to bring him out of his coma tomorrow.”

“State of his injuries?” Jason asked.

“Well the swelling on the brain caused by the nanoprobes is all cleared up as is the inflammation around the heart.” The doctor paused a moment. “The dermal regenerators are still working or repairing the damage to the tips of the three fingers he lost on the left hand.  That should he all sorted in the next 12 to 15 hours.”

“Why is it taking so long?”

“We’ve basically had to regrow several layers of skin and tissue.  The rest of the fingers and thumbs weren’t so badly affected by the frostbite.”

“I understand.  Well keep up the good work.” Devron remarked as he made his way back to the door.

“My pleasure Captain, and good night.”

Jason made his way to his quarters, taking off his jacket and replicating himself a glass of warm milk, before taking a seat.  Whether the drink would help him sleep he wasn’t sure, so he had the computer play some music in the background. “Computer play Devron compilation 003. Sound level 2.”

“Acknowledge.” A few seconds later the sounds of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata began wafting in the air.

**********

The other Jason, the one now an ex-Borg Drone wasn’t asleep either.  He was too busy for sleep; not that he needed that much these days.  He was working hard to repair the damage to Borg Cube 4738’s communication link; which once operational, would restore the cube’s connection with the Collective.  He knew Node One was carefully monitoring every single action he had taken.  From the moment he’d beamed over, to when he’s started the work, right up until now.

What Node One couldn’t do though was read his mind, and that was frustrating the cubes leader.  He just didn’t know if he could entirely trust the renegade Drone.  But whilst he was conducting the repairs, he would be allowed to live.  Once that was done he would join all those who had failed to follow orders.  Deviation and non-conformity would be dealt with.

Node One was also monitoring events on Tartarus II.  He had sent there a small force of Drones aboard the Sandvik and Komatsu to assimilate the planets mining work force and their families.  Despite the interference of a Federation vessel, he now knew to be designated USS Jaxartes; preventing them from reaching the main population centre, they had acquired 477 addition units to the loose of 16.

More than half of those had now boarded the transports ready to fly here to the Cube. The rest would be joining then within the next few hours before the ships launched.  The mines had proven to be a deep and winding labyrinth of tunnels and the workers had resisted at every opportunity, which is how most of the drones had been lost.  Their shielding had adapted to the energy weapons of the security team.  But the miners had used pickaxes, shovels, drills, explosives, in fact almost anything they could lay their hands on to defend themselves.  Node One had felt every one of those loses; it was hard to distance himself, when every action and reaction to events past from each Drone to him.

Loses had proved higher than anticipated; but Node One was satisfied with the outcome. Borg Cube 4738 would be fully functional again, and would soon re-join the Collective.

“I’m almost finished.” Came the voice of the renegade Drone. “Are sure you wish me to complete the link?”

To Node One, that seemed an odd question.  Why else would this Drones continued existence be tolerated and its work allowed to carry on unhindered if he didn’t want the Cube reconnected to the Collective. “Proceed.” Was his only reply he needed to give.

“Well it’s your funeral.” Was the mocking response.

‘I think not.’ Node One thought to himself, smiling in a very uncharacteristic way; Borg never smiled, that was an emotion and was of no constructive benefit.  He close his eyes and clenched his fists, feeling the knowledge and the power of the Collective flow through him and the Vinculum.

Status Update

Emergency Command Status:            Deactivated

Designation Command Node One:    Active

Communication Link:                          Established

Resonance Signal:                                Passive

Structural Integrity:                            19.05%

Repair Time:                                        1761.2 Hours at current capacity.

Transwarp:                                         Inoperative

Warp:                                                   30% Efficiency

Warning:

Anomalous Readings Detected in Cube 4738.

Maximum Threat Level

Insatiate Failsafe Protocol 

Command Order:  Full Termination

Node One’s eyes flew open with the realisation of what the warning meant.  His Cube had registered as a threat to the Collective, and that threat was being dealt with; permanently!  He looked right at the Drone which had carried out the repairs. “What did you do?” He bellowed with rage.

“I did everything you wanted.” The Drone replied. “But your thoughts have become too independent.  The Collective can’t allow thinking like that to jeopardise its existence.”

Node One screamed, an ear splitting scream; not just filled with anger, but with pain and terror; as if his very body was on fire.  It wasn’t just him though; every Drone he was connected with felt the pain too.  The two Drones beside him screamed, hands both real and cybernetic clutching their heads.  The noise reverberated throughout the Cube as all the other Drones aboard joined in the cacophony of sound.  All those down on the planet begun screaming, filling the air with an unearthly din.

Node One’s face looked redder rather than the usual grey pallor as blood started issuing form first his nose; then mouth, eyes, ears too.  His body went limp; only supported by the snake like coils that connected him directly into the Vinculum.  The guards had no such support and dropped to their knees, before collapsing to the deck.  Likewise every other Drone on the ship went limp and lifeless, along with all those on Tartarus II.

**********

On the Jaxartes, Jason Devron felt rather than heard the screams of over a thousand being in torment.  He sat up as a wave of nausea overcame his senses and he dropped back down on to his bed.   Crewman Tyson had felt it to; crashing out of his lower bunk.  Much to the shock of those he shared the room with.

And in sickbay Albert Torf, sat bolt upright, eyes wide open and yet seeing nothing; before his heart suddenly stopped and the alarms on the bio-bed started wailing as he slumped back down.

It took a moment or two for Lieutenant Devron to realise where he was.  It was dark and he was still feeling a little groggy.  The Blue Danube playing in the background, reassured him he was still in his quarters; confirmed by bringing the light up to 20%.  The last thing he could recall was what could possibly be described as having the point of pickaxe through the cranium. The initial sharp pain was gone; replaced by a dull ache and a slight ringing in the ears.  Did he imagine the screaming?  And if he hadn’t, were had it come from?

He sat up swinging his legs across and placed his feet on the floor; whilst trying to figure out what had woke him.  The flashing light was an indication someone was attempting to contact him.  “Devron here.” He finally announced. “What’s the matter doctor?”  The answer had him grabbing some clothes and rushing out the room.

**********

In sick bay he found Doctor Andrianakis; who was dressed in her usual lab coat, but appeared to have a nightgown on underneath, which came to just below her knees.  She was standing by the Bio-bed along with the EMH fusing over the young Betazoid engineer.

“Why didn’t you contact me earlier?” Jason asker her. “What exactly happened?”

“First off we did, but you never responded and I rather had my hands full!” The Greek women sounded tired, frustrated and angry. All of which she was right now. “Mr Toff here suffered a massive brain haemorrhage, cardiac arrest and pulmonary embolism. It was touch and go as to whether we could save him.”

“What caused all that?” Devron asked a little shocked.

“We’ve got absolutely no idea.” Responded Andrianakis. “But we suspect some external for of some kind.”

“Running through dozens of tests has drawn a blank.” Added the EMH. “We’ve had four other crew members in here complaining of varying levels of headache and nausea.  All happening at apparently the exact same moment as Mr Torf here.”

“Well you can add me to that list.  What ever happened put me out to.” The Lieutenant informed them.

“That isn’t the weirdest part though.” The doctor moved to one side revealing that the sleeping engineer was tapping away with his right hand.  Four taps pause, seven taps pause, three then eight; followed by a thirty second break then repeated from the beginning. “Started that about ten minutes ago.”

“Four, seven, three, eight.”

The EMH passed him a PADD containing a long scrolling list of things the ships computer had so far discovered associated with the number 4738. This so far contained over two thousand entries and climbing.  Which included such things as:

• Number of stars and other celestial bodies in the Omicron-Hydra Nebula.
• Decay rate in minutes of Xycoti 217.
• Mass of Peregrine 441 in Tonnes.
• Total land mass in square kilometres of Palios IV.
• The height in meters of Mount Sha-h-rax.
• The crew complement aboard 3 different Federation vessels.
• The Prime Factors, which are: 2, 23, 103.
• It was also the length in seconds of a fairly popular Klingon opera.

None of which appeared to be of any help or relevance to the current situation. “Computer, narrow down this list to anything connected with our present mission.” Jason called out.  Seconds later the list was reduced to just four items, and right there at the top of the list was. ‘Borg Cube designation 4738.’ “Bingo!”

“What did I miss?” Questioned Andrianakis; as the lieutenant dropped the PADD on to the other Bio-bed; and raced out of the room. She walked over and picked up the device to look at it. “Oh crikey!”

**********

Just a few short minutes later, Ensign Cho had joined him on the bridge.  Despite being woken and dragged out of bed at a little after 2:15am, the young Korean looked remarkably bright and alert; with everything about her neat and presentable.  Jason would have to ask her how she managed it. His hair was a mess, he had three day stubble and his uniform jacket looked like he’d slept in it.

Right now he had her scanning every communication channel and wave length imaginable to pick up any sort of signal from the Borg Cube.  After around twenty minutes, she finally had something.

“….Tartarus II been neutralised?” Then a pause and the message repeated.  “USS Jaxartes, do you read me.  Have the Borg Drones on Tartarus II been neutralised?”

“This is the USS Jaxartes.  We read you but you’re very faint.” Replied Cho. “Can you boost the signal from your end?”

“No can do Jaxartes.  Using my own power as it is.”  There followed a brief coughing fit. “Not long now.”

“Anything we can do?” Interjected Devron.

“I knew this was a suicide mission the moment I set out.”  The Drone coughed again, longer and harder this time. “I wasn’t Borg anymore and I’m not human. But they had to be stopped.”

“We can pick you up.” Devron waved a signal to his helm officer to start making the necessary calculations for a quick hope over to the gas giant and the Borg Cube currently orbiting it.

“All power gone, systems wreaked and this thing is going down fact.” There was more coughing accompanied by wheezing now. “Good luck and tha…”

Despite Ensign Cho’s best efforts she was unable to re-establish contact with the Cube.  Ensign Harris was able to get a fix on its position and reported its imminent collision with the upper atmosphere of Tartarus III. It took nearly half an hour for the massive Borg vessel to finally disappear below the swirling pink mass of the gas giant’s clouds.  Jason closed his eyes. ‘No.  Thank you.’

Lieutenant Jason Devron had been of the planet’s surface for roughly an hour now; surveying the situation in and around the mining complex. Assistance had finally arrived in the shape of three starships.  One a Fleet Auxiliary Vessel, the USS Albion had brought with it a team from the Corps of Engineers.  They’d split into two groups.  The first had headed into the mines to assess how safe they were before allowing medical staff and cadaver recovery teams from the other ships to go down.  Whilst the second team were checking out the damage to the bridge the Jaxartes had partially destroyed.  In the mean time they were using boats to ferry themselves and equipment over to the far back.

He was near the back of the CAT-05 Komatsu, one of the two transport vessels used by the Borg in their quest to assimilate the small population of this planet.  Its rear ramp was down, as it had been moments after landing.  A pair of Starfleet crewmembers were bringing out yet another body bag; adding it to the increasingly long lines already laid out across the landing area.  Small colour coded tags on each bag signified if it contained a Borg, a miner etcetera, or in a few cases a crew member from the USS Adriatic.

There were nearly a hundred of these bags so far, and others would be joining them as more and more sections of the mines were searched and cleared.  He spotted doctor Andrianakis chatting with another doctor, but was too far away to gather what they were saying; when the other name nodded and walked away, he caught the Greek woman’s attention.

“I’m surprised you’re still up and about.” Jason said sincerely.

“I could say the same about you.” She gave a slightly tired reply. “Chain of command as I was the first medical officer on the scene.” Despite not having any rank within Starfleet, she was more experienced at disaster relief, having worked with ‘WHO’ back on Earth; so the other doctors where more than happy for her to remain in charge of the situation.

“Surely you could just hand it over and grab some sleep?” He enquired.

“We’ll be done in a couple of hours.” Phoebe reassured him. “Then I will just sleep the rest of the week.”

“Have we figured out how so many where killed and what affected some of us on the ship yet?” Devron asked.

“That Borg Cube sent at a signal ordering the termination of all its Drones.” The doctor informed him.  “And your brain picked up the signal”

Devron looked at her in mild shock. “I don’t get it though.  I’m not Borg, neither where the others?”

“It would appear not everything done during Frontier Day was completely cleared up. Those assimilated that day, are more susceptible.” Andrianakis informed him. “It’s a temporary thing and will dissipate over time.  Every individual is unique in that respect.”

“It affected Torf the most because he’d only just been assimilated?”

“Correct. It was also how the Drone from the Cube had been able to send the signal to his brain and make him tap those numbers out whilst he was unconscious.”

“Forgive me for asking but how did they die?”

“They had their brains cooked and their blood boiled.  As a way to die there couldn’t be much worse, and those poor things felt every second of it.”

The lieutenant wasn’t sure whether to feel sorry for them or not; but he did feel sorry for those individuals they’d only just taken.  The two of them continued discussing events as they walked along towards one of the warehouses which had been converted into a temporary treatment area dealing with those individuals who’d only been stunned by the Borg.  So far that had accounted for roughly 260 people.

Tents and screens had been erected to separate different sections and offer some small level of privacy for the patents.  Those in the most serious state had already been beamed up to the orbiting starships, but there was still plenty of work for the three Starfleet doctors and dozen or so other medical staff within the warehouse.

“Well I’ll leave you to get on doctor.” Jason announced standing by one of the doors inside. “See if I can hitch a lift over the river.”

“Ok, take care.” She smiled back.  Then heard someone shout her name from somewhere and turned away.

Lieutenant Devron still wasn’t sure if this whole mess could be classed as a victory or not; though he knew its outcome could have been much worse.

**********

Ensign Tholakath had joined with the security teams checking that everything was safe on the other side of the river and that none of the Borg had found alternate means of getting across after the bridge was destroyed.  The locals seemed wary of him at first; they didn’t get much in the way of contact with alien species and had only ever heard bad things about Cardassian’s, which they recognised him to be.  Despite being in a Starfleet uniform, they felt less sure about trusting him than the other officers and crew currently in and around their town.

But when someone let slip; most likely deliberately, that he was responsible for blowing the bridge up and therefore preventing or at least seriously delaying the arrival of the Borg there.  The mood towards him softened.  Though to have a girl of five run up to him and present the young Cardassian with a bunch of flowers she’d clearly picked from her own garden moments beforehand did take him aback.  Tholakath looked up to see the girl’s mother a few metres up the road, with her arms folded across her chest.  But the smile seemed friendly enough. “Abbey, come along sweetheart.” She shouted warmly.  It was clear though when the young girl grabbed his free hand that she wanted him to come along to.  He shrugged apologetically towards the mother, who couldn’t help but laugh at the Ensigns predicament.  “Sorry about this, Mister?” She paused a moment.

“Tholakath ma’am.” He replied. “Ensign Tholakath.”

She smiled at being called ‘ma’am’ and wasn’t sure in all her 25 years of life if someone had actually ever used that term when speaking to her. “Just call me Tamara.” Her parents really thought that one out well when they picked the name. Many a late night drink with a young man shouting out as they parted company. ‘Shall I call you tamara?’ Instead of saying tomorrow.  She’d even gone and married one of them.  Married at 19, a mother at 20 and widowed by 23.  Of cause the tall grey skinned if not entirely unhandsome and rather polite Ensign standing before her; didn’t really need to know all that.  It just felt rather nice to be treated with a little respect.

The mood was soured suddenly by the arrival of a gruff looking old man who came limping along the road from the other direction. “Clear off you Cardassian scum!” He yelled loud enough for probably a lot of people to hear him clearly. “Stay away from my daughter and get you stinking hands off my granddaughter.”

Tamara looked at Tholakath apologetically and mouthed ‘Sorry’; before attempting to usher her young daughter back into their house.  Her father, a man who looked to be in his 60’s, closed the distance fairly rapidly despite his impediment.  Stopped just short of the young Ensign and spat on his left boot. “Go crawl back under whatever rock you came from.”

“Sir, you’re clearly upset.” Tholakath said as calmly as he could. “I have no wish to cause offence.”

“You’re still breathing.  That’s enough of an offence to me!”  Came the bitter retort.

The next voice came from behind the Cardassian, but he recognised it as being his Captain. “Is there a problem here Mr Tholakath?”

The old man craned his neck round to see the new arrival. “I want this lizard freak charging.”

“On what grounds?” Devron asked, noting the Ensign was holding a small bunch of flowers behind his back in an attempt to prevent the man from seeing them.

“He molested my granddaughter.” Came the response.  The Lieutenant noticed the Ensign’s hand clinch into a fists; but was relieved to see it relax again slightly rather than take a swing at the man; even if he wouldn’t have entirely blamed him.  He reassured the man the matter would be dealt with and he’d send someone around later to take statements; before leading his tactical officer away.

Once a couple of streets away, Tholakath turned. “You’re not going to follow through with that are you, Sir?”

“No I’m not.” Jason replied. “It seemed clear that man holds a grudge against your people for either what happened to him personally or those close to him.”

“Will we always live in the shadow of the past?” The Cardassian pondered aloud.

“Look I wasn’t exactly pleased to see you when you came aboard the Jax, was I?” Devron said patting his colleague on the shoulder.  “Wounds take time to heal.  All we can ever hope to do is make tomorrow a better place. And save people whether they are grateful afterwards or not”

Tholakath thought about those words as they carried on walking.  It’s why he’d joined Starfleet in the first place. ‘To make tomorrow a better place.’  Hopeful one day everyone would treat him in the same way that young girl and her mother had, as a person and not some monster; and who knows may be one day there’d even be hope for the Borg.