Standing at the bedside of her compatriot from Proteus, the Mistress of Lakota found an almost perverse pleasure in seeing someone else on the table instead of one of her own. There had been too much pain and suffering wrought upon her people of late, so she was glad it wasn’t one of her crew, even if that meant the suffering of someone else, even a fellow captain no less. Or maybe even the stranger’s executive officer just a few feet away. It was wrong, and she’d obviously never admit to it, but she could definitely feel the relief.

“She’s stable…”

Turning her head, the Captain made eye contact with her chief medical officer just one bed away, working feverishly on the aforementioned XO.

“I could wake her? No real injuries to speak of. Unlike her Number One here,” Zinn frowned and grunted as he worked with his favourite nurse. “Internal bleeding, punctured lung, severed artery in his left leg. Any longer and he’d have bled out,” the Deltan informed the captain without so much as looking up at his commander.

Nazir listened to the medical analysis, and, when satisfied, nodded in agreement. Another physician nearby pressed a hypospray to the patient’s neck and within a few seconds, the dark-skinned, white-haired woman stirred.

As she started to struggle against the weight of her recently sedated body, Nazir joined the doctor in gently restraining their visitor.

“Captain Quinn,” Nazir spoke softly, belying the almost sadistic feelings of before. “I’m Keziah Nazir. You’re on my ship, the Lakota. We answered your distress call,” she told, seeing the unnerved look in the stranger’s eyes.

Her words seemed to upset the captain further, causing her to try to sit up again. “My ship… is she…?”

Nazir instantly shook her head, sensing the dread oozing off her colleague who was concerned with the very question every commanding officer asked themselves in such a situation; was her ship destroyed?

“Salvageable,” Nazir smiled softly, rubbing a reassuring hand on the human’s shoulder. “Medical teams from Lakota and Proxima are helping your injured, and repair teams are already at work. My XO is over there now, helping coordinate efforts,” her words seemed to relax the visibly upset guest somewhat, her healing body resting against the bed again.

“Thank god…” Quinn replied, a sigh of relief filling the medical bay. Until she caught sight of her XO. “Kael?!”

“He’s hurt Captain,” Commander Zinn told as he joined Nazir at their guest’s bedside, “but nothing my medical team can’t cope with. He’ll be fine in a couple of days. I’d like to keep him here for observation. Your team is a little too overwhelmed to transfer him there.” His words suggested he was asking for permission, but his tone stated otherwise; Kael Draven was not leaving that sickbay without Zinn’s permission.

Elara nodded slowly, placing a hand on the Deltan’s hand and squeezing her message of thanks, one that simply drew a smile and nod from the uncharacteristically pleasant physician.

“Looks like you put up quite a fight…”

Amidst the recount of battle, as Quinn elaborated on how the Borg had jammed communications and attacked them first, the senior officers were joined by another figure who was escorted into the medical bay by security officers from Lakota’s detachment. Tall, with ageing skin and flowing silver locks draped over his shoulders, the man oozed authority as he marched to the side of the Lakota’s commander.

“Captain Vos,” Keziah nodded to her newest visitor, offering a hand in welcome.

Taking the offered hand, the man gave a single, curt nod in response. “Nazir,” he smiled, then looked at the injured woman. “Elara,” he greeted the injured.

So, her guests were on first-name terms even if she wasn’t. Interesting. Perhaps there was a history there that she didn’t know about?

“Kelvan,” Captain Quinn winced as she sat up and tried her best to sit up and greet him, only for the older male to gently send her back to the cushioned pad beneath her.

Turning to his host, Kelvan Vos, intimidating in size and appearance, looked down at the diminutive Trill, but spoke with a tone that showed nothing but respect for his peers. “Communications beyond the system are offline,” he confirmed what they already knew about the Borg jamming their transmissions. “My team tell me that repairs to Proteus are advancing but will take time,” he frowned, looking at Elara. “You did a good job, but for now, Proteus is out of the fight,” he added.

“I think we are all united in the idea that the Borg must be dealt with, here and now, while they are vulnerable,” Nazir folded her arms across her chest and looked between her colleagues. “Any suggestions?”

“A direct assault is out of the question,” Vos began. “Even with our combined firepower, they have considerable firepower and we could suffer the same fate as Proteus,” he then looked at Quinn with an apologetic expression.

“Send a team over,” the injured party offered. “While they are distracted with repairs, send a team and have them destroy the Borg from the inside,” she winced through the pain in her abdomen, doing her best to ignore Commander Zinn who went about his business while the redshirts talked.

“I’m not sending my people over there,” the man shook his head, folding his arms across his chest defiantly.

“Then send mine…”

A voice from behind the command team drew their gaze, Nazir smiling upon the realization that her XO had arrived just in the nick of time, as eager as ever to put her life on the line for the greater good.

“This is Commander Noli Auru,” Keziah introduced her able deputy. “She’s my XO, and leader of Lakota‘s Hazard Team.”

“You’re volunteering, Commander?” Vos asked once the pleasantries were out of the way. “That could very well be a one-way trip, you know?”

“It’s the kind of assignment my team are trained for Captain,” the younger Bajoran nodded assuringly. She was confident, in herself and the abilities of her team. “We’ve learnt a lot about the Borg and their systems in recent months. My team and I have been preparing for such a possibility; we could go in, break into the Borg computer and download the relevant intelligence files we need. We’d then beam several torpedoes rigged to detonate on a timer into key locations around the sphere and watch her implode,” she folded her arms now, a look on her face that suggested her idea was such an obvious one that she didn’t understand the need for debate.

For the next few minutes, the command teams of the three Starfleet vessels running the operation discussed the endeavour, even weighing up the option of doing nothing and retreating, a discussion that left a sour taste in the mouths of all around the biobed. Letting the Borg ship regenerate and advance further into Federation space was just not an option they were prepared to allow. Not this time, and not with a level playing field for once.

“Bridge to Captain Nazir…”

A voice in the proverbial distance halted the discussion of the plan’s finer details, causing the Captain to tap her commbadge. “Nazir here,” she called into the comm.

“Captain,” the voice of Lieutenant Mitchell from the CONN became a bit more recognisable now, “the Borg ship’s energy output just jumped forty percent and she’s raised shields.”

Locking eyes with Noli, the Captain let out a sigh. ‘All the best laid plans…’ she mouthed, then watched as Captain Vos left the room without so much as a word, eager to return to his ship, knowing exactly what this meant for him, their ships and their plan.

“Captain Vos is returning to Proxima,” Nazir told the Commander, “have Voran lock on to Proteus and move her into a safe position. Prepare for attack manoeuvres. We’ll be there shortly,” she instructed, turning back to her guest as she tapped her commbadge off and her orders ceased. For now.

“Captain Nazir,” Quinn winced as she sat up on her bed, holding an arm to her torso. “I’d like to join you on the bridge.”

Only after approval from the CMO, and strict instructions for his patient to avoid any heavy lifting, did the Trill give the go-ahead.

Emerging from the turbo lift at the back of the bridge, Nazir instantly dived down the steps between her chair and the CONN. Noli guided their guest to the chair on the Captain’s left, before joining Mitchell at tactical.

“The sphere is powering up her engines ma’am,” Henry reported without any need to be asked.

“Standby all weapons. Evasive manoeuvres at your discretion Henry,” Nazir instructed, tapping the headrest of the pilot’s chair, eyes trained on the Borg vessel before them. Out of the corner of her eye, Proxima slowly inched forward, with Captain Vos preparing to put the superior weapon power of his vessel in the path between Lakota and her foe. But just when it seemed like a confrontation was inevitable, the Sphere diverted course and entered the aperture behind it, crashing through the debris that had kept the opening alive for all this time.

In a flash, the chaos and destruction was over, but as the ship disappeared, Nazir and her team were left staring at the screen, the realisation of what the disappearance meant dawning on them.

The Borg, this one at least, would live to terrorise the galaxy for another day.

Almost to the second that the aperture sealed behind the Borg ship, computer consoles across the bridge burst into song with a cacophony of chirps and whistles that caused the crew to need a minute to take stock and make sense of the assaults on their auditory canals.

Voran, whose sensitive, pointed ears were the first to adjust, tapped at his controls with speed. “Long-range communications are back online Captain,” he turned to the woman standing behind the CONN. “Task Force Command is demanding an update.”

“Inform Command that they’ll have my report within the hour. Let them know we’re remaining on station until we receive further orders,” she turned as if she was going to walk back to her command chair, then stopped. “Request additional assistance for repairs to Proteus,” she added, then returned to her seat.

“As you wish,” Voran nodded and returned to his work.

Watching as her gracious host retook the seat between herself and the loyal XO to the far right, Elara smiled at her compatriot. “Captain,” she smiled, “With the Borg gone, I’d appreciate it if I could go back to my ship now.”

Taking a moment to consider the request from her guest, the Trill worked through all of the connotations in her head before nodding in agreement. “Commander Noli can go over there with you and will support you with anything you need until we receive the additional support from Command,” she advised Quinn, then looked towards Noli and gave her XO the nod of approval to get going.

Whilst Quinn and Noli walked and talked, a smile crept across the face of Lakota’s commanding officer. Perhaps this fledgling relationship built on respect and thanks would be the start of something wonderful, for all of them. If they managed to navigate the treacherous waters of the current crisis of course.

But without so much as a phaser fired or a torpedo launched, that course seemed a little smoother today.

Captain’s log, supplemental.

It’s been two days since the Borg sphere we intercepted disappeared back into the Underspace aperture from whence it came. Starfleet has ordered Lakota and Proxima to remain on station until further notice, to ensure a rapid response in the event the Borg should return. Captain Quinn and her team have completed their recoveries and returned home to the Proteus. Repairs are underway, but she requires dockyard support. As such, the USS Givens arrived and took the ship under tow to Deep Space Seventeen.

The Borg’s disappearance adds yet another layer of confusion to their already erratic behaviour of late. In all of my research, I have yet to identify any instances of the Borg retreating in battle, yet here we are, with the eyewitness accounts of hundreds of individuals; the Borg ran to fight another day. And I think that worries me more than if they had stayed and fought to the death.

One thing is for certain. This isn’t the last we’ve seen of the Borg…