“This is the captain,” Mason’s deep voice came over the comms loud and clear. “If you’re hearing this, restrict your comms to maintenance test channel forty-two.”

RJ put his finger to his lips, warning the three officers crammed into the tiny maintenance shaft with him not to react. There were… borg in the corridor outside, but as yet none of them had ventured from the main corridors. 

They’d been too busy killing off the rest of the crew. His expression tightened. Crew who knew them and had been reluctant to fire on their crew mates, or, more correctly, the crewmates the collective now operated like puppets. It had cost many of the Resolute’s crew their lives. 

He wasn’t part of the Resolute crew though, he didn’t know these people. Which meant when they tried to kill him, he had no issues with shooting them. He tried hard not to think about the fact that none of the ‘new’ borg looked to be over twenty-five. They were just freaking kids. 

“So far the borg have taken command of the bridge and all main strategy locations on the ship,” Mason carried on. It sounded like he was running. Hearing a clang on the other side of the hatch, RJ put his hand over his commbadge, muffling the sound as best he could, and shuffled back, keeping his phaser trained on the hatch. As soon as it cracked open, he was sending whoever was on the other side to meet their maker.

There were small sounds of fear, whimpers from the officers, two male and one female, behind him. One he was fairly sure had had dealings with borg before. She hadn’t stopped shaking since he’d found her, about to be gunned down by a junior officer. She’d been pleading with him. James. She’d been pleading with James as he’d been about to kill her. A nurse. Given the oaths medical staff took, there was an irony there RJ didn’t want to think about. 

There were more clangs on the other side of the hatch. RJ hissed, ice rolling down his spine. Of all the damn ships to get caught on during a borg takeover, he had to pick a fucking Rhode Island class. It wasn’t a ship, it was a mini-ship. It was barely the length of two rugby pitches for heaven’s sake, and not even as wide. He could have sprinted from bow to stern in under a minute. 

Which meant there were buggar all places to hide. This had been the best he’d found. And it wouldn’t get more than the four of them in here. 

The hatch cracked open and he let go of his emotions, his hand steady as he aimed. 

Mason appeared in the widening gap, a white-haired woman behind him.

“Fuck’s sake, Mason! I nearly took your head off then!” RJ hissed, dropping his hand. For all his glare and outburst, he was more than pleased to see the Resolute’s captain. The guy had already survived Jem’Hadar and having half a planet dropped on him, what was a few borg?

Mason’s hard expression cleared a little as his pale gaze flicked over the weapon in RJ’s hand to the three officers behind him. 

“You’re alive, good,” he said in a deep growl. If it seemed deeper than normal, RJ put it down to the heavy bruising across the front of his throat. “Come on, they’re sweeping the ship in a rotational pattern. We need to move.”

“Move to where?” RJ demanded as he clambered out of the tiny hatch, extending a hand to help those behind him out. Help… it was more grab a hold and haul them out. The female officer was almost catatonic, and while the two others seemed to have a little more about them, both seemed to have set like pretzels in the tight confines. 

“What’s the plan?” he asked, eyeing up the woman behind Mason. Tall and slender, with white hair that flowed down her back, she seemed to be dressed for a night out in a little black dress and heels, even though she was toting an assault rifle. He blinked, she had legs for days—

“To not get dead,” Mason replied instantly, then leaned in, his voice low in RJ’s ear. “And if Kovash sees you looking at her like that, the borg will seem like teddy-bears. Little fluffy ones.”

RJ refocused on Mason, registering his reply. “To not get dead? That’s the plan?”

Mason shrugged as the little group, which consisted of Mason, his white-haired friend who RJ really hoped wasn’t a starfleet officer, and eight other officers from various departments, headed off down the corridor. 

“If you’ve got a better one, I’m all ears,” he said. “Short of blowing up the shi—“

“You not blowing up ship!” Kovash replied, glaring over her shoulder. RJ sucked in a breath. Holy hells, she was stunning. “Bennett not let you.”

“Moon’s tits,” Mason hissed, and RJ was surprised to see frustration on the big captain’s face. “You’re agreeing with Bennett? The end really is nigh. I said blowing up the ship was the last resort, didn’t I? Remember, these people are our crew. It’s not their fau—“

He was cut off as a trio of borg-affected younger officers rounded the corner and started firing at them.

“Eliminate the unassimilated.”