It was chaos at first.  Shouts and screams of terror at the sight of what happened.  Admiral Picard and the USS Titan broke into the communication to warn of a horrifying development.  Then Admiral Shelby was shot twice on her bridge as the communication channel with Earth cut.  Status updates scrolled across the screen as the Borg hijacked the Fleet Formation.  Then the unsettling reveal of who had been assimilated began to become apparent.  The cadets freaked, panicking that they were about to turn into their worst nightmare.  Senior cadets did their best to bring calm, but it took the senior staff across all dorms and auditoriums to break the fever of fear that had threatened to sweep the Academy into a fiery death spiral.

The waiting was the second hardest thing.  Nobody turned.  Nobody assimilated.  Nobody changed.    The reports from Earth were still coming in, and the senior staff had gone into meetings to see what help they could offer to the fleet back at home.  Soon, their eyes turned to the screens to watch the events unfold.  The destruction of the USS Excelsior despite their best efforts to break free.  The Titan’s desperate attempts to disrupt the attack.  The impressive defense that Earth’s Starbase was putting up to keep Humanity’s home from a fate worse than death.  They stared, watching as the balance of freedom in the universe rested on one Starbase and whoever else might have a chance at avoiding the power of the Borg’s connection to Fleet Formation and the young officers of Starfleet.

Phil stared at the screen, his mouth still slightly open in shock.  He had been at Starfleet Academy his freshman year.  He had worked side by side with cadets that were likely attacking and killing the people around them at this moment. It sent a shiver down his spine, and he felt like throwing up as the reality of what was happening back home began to take hold.  He said as much, “I feel sick.”

Harris gripped the arms of the chair tightly.  The Borg had long been a nightmare in her stable of night terrors over the years. What was happening on those ships was something she couldn’t imagine – fellow officers rising to eliminate you from existence.  Fourth Fleet had faced the Dominion just last month and won.  Why couldn’t they have kept the win before something else spattered blood across their hard-earned trophy?  Natalie felt her stomach ache in solidarity with her new friend, “I’m there with you, Phil.”  She winced and worked on containing her breathing, “I don’t know if I have the words.  I’d rather run out of here and hide in my room, to be honest.”

Goldsmith looked up and around.  There hadn’t been a specific order to stay in the commons after the failure to assimilate had become a reality. He stood and motioned her along.

“What if this really is the end?”  Phil was sipping at a soda Natalie had handed him from her fridge.  He sat on the ground against the wall in the common room.  They were the only two there.  They hadn’t spoken on the way back to her quarters and had passed few cadets but many security officers making rounds.

Harris was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, “If it’s the end, I’m going to be pissed.”  She sighed, “I’ve got a lotta life to live yet.”  She felt a twinge in her stomach as she verbalized her fears for the first time.  “That sounded terrible to say out loud.”

Speaking from his position on the floor, he grumbled, “It’s like facing a no-win scenario…we can’t do anything about what’s going to happen to us.”  Phil mused, “I mean…we could run to the far ends of the galaxy…but the Borg always find you.”

Natalie shuffled over to the edge of her bed and looked down at him, “My brother always talked about hope.  That hope is the only way we can do the hard things…and survive the tough times.”  She muttered, “But he’s dead…and we’re probably going to be too.”  She remained on the edge of her bed, sadness filling her face.

Goldsmith shifted his eyes to her, “It got him a long way…I read his file when I heard about his death.  They talked about him as the warp core of hope.  That’s a lot of hope, Nat.”

Her memories of Ambrose had her far away from this moment, but she nodded.  They remained in silent repose for ten minutes before she asked him, “Would it be weird if I asked you to come up here with me?”

Phil frowned, “Uh….”

A scowl was her answer, “Not for that, idiot…just for someone to hold me?  And to hold someone?”  She hadn’t felt this need in a while, and it was tugging hard at her heart, almost to the point of aching.  “If the universe is going to end…I want to spend it in someone’s arms…as corny as that sounds.”

He nodded dumbly and shook himself loose as he stood, and she rolled over in the bed.  He carefully lay down next to her and awkwardly put his arm around her head.  She rolled her eyes but scooted over against him until she was cradled in his arms, her head on his chest and his head resting on top of her soft hair.  Their breathing slowed until she felt their bodies warming each other, her once panicked heart rate returning to a stable resting rate.  “This is nice,” she said softly.

He gently tightened his embrace, “It is nice.”