“Nothing in our database could put a hole that big in a Borg cube.” Lieutenant Sadie Fowler sat at the conference room table on the USS Olympic. The senior staff filled the rest of the seats, and Captain Leopold Halsey was at the head of the table. It had been twelve hours since the mysterious Borg cube had simply appeared in space without explanation.
Halsey scrolled through the PADD. “No drones. No power. Best guess, Fowler?” He could see the reticence on her face, waving it away. “We’ll have time for certainty later, but we need something to report.”
She fought back the urge to sigh. As chief science officer, she built her world on testing theories until they bore the truth in final report form. She was not a fan of ‘best guess’. “One theory that our teams have centered on is that this cube is not from our universe, and not only that, it is from another time. The Zephyr hazard team returned with quarantined samples, and they’re testing them.” She shifted her hands from the arms of the chair to the table.
Halsey noticed it. “Was there something more, Lieutenant?”
Fowler scrunched up her nose. “I’m not sure, sir. We’re working through the data the Hazard Team brought back, but we need more. The team has been debating having our science investigators escorted over for further research.”
Leopold’s eyebrows went up, and he leaned over the table where he sat. “You’ve evaluated the risk percentages?”
“Lieutenant Morrison and I have run three different scenarios with variations of variables based on what we know. The lowest risk ratio was 35.45%, and the highest was 74.89%.” She decided not to hold her tongue any longer. “Sir, we are highly confident that our situation relates to the vanishings. There is data over there that may help us find our people, sir.”
Halsey’s eyebrows remained arched, but he nodded slowly. “You make a powerful argument, Fowler. I’ll notify Longfellow to warm up their Hazard Teams. Reid?”
Doctor Jordan Reid was already out of her seat, heading for the door. “On it, Captain.”
He glanced around the table. “I’m going to put us on yellow alert. Security will activate its operational plan to prepare for hostile boarding, just in case. Fowler, get Drayton and Solas briefed and have a secondary support team activated, assigned, and standing by in the transporter rooms. Dismissed.”
“There is no greater threat to the galaxy,” Lieutenant Elsa Drayton said as she stood still, her eyes searching the surrounding walls in the corridor. Her heartbeat was racing, and a cold sweat had broken out on the back of her neck.
She was standing on the deck of a Borg vessel.
Just that sentence alone was enough to send her body into overload and possibly to the floor in a faint. She took comfort in her partner, Lieutenant Solas, who walked around with his tricorder as if it were just another Tuesday in his world. She envied him just as any human would. Vulcan’s control of emotions was legendary. For Elsa, she was fighting to control the uneasy fear climbing up her nerves, jangling them with memories of Borg attacks over the years. Why had she willingly agreed to do this?
Solas spoke as he walked, scanning inch by inch. “Logically, there have been greater threats in the Federation’s history and before. I could provide you with a comprehensive list once our initial investigation is complete. The Borg is a recent addition historically.”
She rolled her eyes, making sure he saw it. “Lieutenant, the Borg are one of the few that keep coming back. Plenty of threats were one and done.” She took a deep breath and pushed forward, her tricorder going to work.
“That is a more logical statement, Lieutenant Drayton. I’m detecting an unusual mechanical signal.” He shifted his tricorder to the left, where a longer and wider corridor led deeper into the cube. “I believe we should press forward.”
He called their Hazard Team escort and soon they were walking ahead of them, clearing the hallway as they went. Behind Drayton and Solas trudged their small support team of engineers, science officers, and a select few from operations. Soon they came out into a larger room. Several consoles were integrated into the walls, while an array of odd looking spider like robots lay crumpled in a pile against the far corner. The spiders weren’t moving, but the intrepid Hazard Team continued their duties, inspecting, scanning, and verifying each element of the room that might threaten the team they protected. They took ten more minutes in the large room and then ten feet down each corridor, returning with a clear signal.
Solas strode over to the pile, kneeling down to inspect the odd machines. “The lack of drones suggests these are what is in place of them. Curious, they do not seem equipped for assimilation procedures.”
Elsa inched her way closer to where he was, eyes searching the walls for a trap to spring down on them. None came, and she gathered enough courage to kneel beside her partner. “Are those…tools in the legs?” Drayton picked one up off the pile and laid it on the ground. Drayton fought the festering fear rising from her stomach. The Borg spider was dead, she kept telling herself. Or at least it was offline, or not powered. Solas opened one leg, revealing a shocking amount of tools and equipment. “These are their drones,” she said, appreciating the engineering of the things. “They appear to be repair drones, not offensive or even defensive ones.”
Solas stood, searching the walls for the consoles. “I have a proposal.”
She followed his gaze and stood up, already disliking it. “You want to power one of them up, don’t you?”
He raised an eyebrow. “It would assist us in gaining a better understanding of the situation. As you and others have pointed out, time is of the essence.”
She grimaced. “I don’t like agreeing with you, but this gives us a better chance at intel. You’re making the call to Captain Halsey.”
