Chief Flight Control Officer’s log, supplemental. Lieutenant Nemiah and I are close to solving the issues we ran into when we booted the systems back up on the Norge. We’ve seen no evidence that the T’Kon virus, or whatever it actually is, made its way onto the Runabout but when we tried to power up the warp core nothing happened. Whatever damping field that seems to be affecting almost everything here is also affecting the fuel system on the Norge. Thank god Commander Broeheth and Lieutenant Nemiah are as skilled as they are because I’m all but worthless when something breaks. It sounds like we’ll be up and going shortly and I, for one, am grateful to be off this damn planet. Each hour I spend here makes me wish more and more that I had accepted that posting as a shuttle pilot on Sol Station instead of this ship. Screw the whole ‘explore the galaxy and see the wonders of the universe’ thing; that’s just marketing jargon for ‘get shot at, maybe die, or maybe get marooned for weeks on a starange planet.’

“There!”

With a loud thunk as the deuterium canister slid into place. Lieutenant Commander Broheth grinned, clearly feeling rather triumphant. “Try starting the warp core up now.”

Lieutenant Mariah Nemiah spun around in her chair, fingers tapping away at the console before her. “Opening magnetic interlocks, opening matter/anti-matter fuel line.” Her eyes were glued to the display; they had tried this over a dozen times already and each attempt had failed. This time, however, broke that steak of bad luck. “Reaction chamber online and showing stable. Plasma is flowing to the nacelles.”

Broheth clapped Nemiah on the shoulder. “Good to know I can at least get something around here fixed. I don’t suggest hanging around though.”

Mariah nodded. “I agree sir. Are you ready to depart Ensign Erith?”

Kellen turned to her and nodded. “You have no idea how ready I am to be off this rock.”

Broheth let out a chuckle, turning towards the runabout door. “Best of luck to you. Hurry back; there are more than a few of us who would love to get out of here too.”

The door closed and sealed with a hiss as the Bolian left the craft. Kellen turned back around, quickly beginning the pre-flight checklist. “Inertial dampers online, deflector systems showing normal, thrusters and impulse systems at standby.”

Mariah plopped down in her seat with a sigh, eyes glancing over the screen. “Warp systems online, shields and weapons online.”

“Alight, let’s do this.” Kellen ran a finger along the thruster controls, the runabout slowing lifting off the ground. He used his other hand to manipulate the altitude controls, the runabout pointing up towards the sky. A few seconds later the impulse engines kicked up and the craft glided up into the sky.

“Positive rate of climb, we’ll break the atmosphere in 2 minutes.”

Kellen looked over the readouts. Everything looked normal, much to his relief. It was hard to shake the feeling that the planet had another trick up its sleeve and the runabout would suddenly fall back to the surface. Thankfully the planet had no such trick prepared and 2 minutes later the clouds and blue of the planet’s atmosphere gave way to the pure black of space.

Marah reached up and triggered the sensors to kick in, keen on making sure there wasn’t anything hostile around. To her relief, scans came up empty. “No signs of any Breen or Dominion ships on sensors.”

Kellen shrugged. “After all this time, I’d be shocked if they were hanging out up here.”

Mariah’s brow furled. “I’m not reading much of anything nearby. I was kind of hoping something was still lurking out here; it would explain why nobody has come looking for us.”

Kellen’s shoulders tensed. The thought had crossed his mind as well. If enemy forces were still nearby it would explain the lack of a rescue but all that was out there was empty space. “Well, it is Frontier Day. Perhaps everyone is glued to their screens watching Admirals make fancy speeches.” It was both a poor excuse and a poor joke, but he had hoped it would lighten the mood.

“Shit, I forgot it was Frontier Day. The days just run together at this point.”

“To be honest, unless the ghost of Johnathan Archer himself shows up to make a speech, it isn’t something I’ve been eager to see.” He tapped a few of the controls, swinging the runabout around. “Let’s see if the Amundsen is where we left her.”

Sure enough, the silhouette of the Rhode Island class vessel came into view. The exterior showed heavy damage from the battle but didn’t seem to suffer any extra external damage from the ion storm.

“I’m reading extensive internal damage. Emergency power looks like it is online but the EPS network suffered heavy damage from the ion storm. Looks like it blew out across 4 decks; no way she’s going anywhere without help. I doubt life support is even working.”

Kellen sighed. “Commander Broheth did say that was probably going to happen; not like we expected to be able to go back to the ship.” He pushed the impulse engines to full power and pointed the runabout away from the damaged ship. “We’ll be clear to jump to warp in 88 seconds.”

“I’m still not able to get a comm signal out of the system nor is there anything coming into the system. I guess Commander Conklin was right, it was something on the planet blocking the signal and not the Dominion.” Mariah pecked at the display in front of her, queuing up a general distress call to go out the moment the interference cleared up.

“Jumping to warp in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” The Runabout’s nacelles powered up, glowing a bright blue before the ship lept to warp. Kellen squinted his eyes for a moment before they adjusted to the bright blue of the warp field outside the large windows. “We are holding steady at warp 5.”

As expected the comm interference cleared up the moment the runabout was out of range of the planet. Mariah noted the small, pulsing, orange light on the console; indicating that the automated distress signal she set up had been triggered. “That’s odd.” she mused as another signal rapidly came in, overriding her ability to hail anyone else.

A metallic, almost grinding noise, came over the speakers. Kellen felt a sharp pain in his temple; he let out a hiss of pain as his hands moved up to cradle his forehead. The pain did not ease quickly. He felt what only could be described as tendrils snake through his head; the pain easing as his brain went into panic mode, dumping massive amounts of dopamine and endorphins to calm his panicking nurons. At the edges of his consciousness, he began to hear whispers, warm touches of something. The pain began to back away as the whispers grew in strength. 

In what was likely one last, panicked, reaction by his brain to hold on to his own identity, he could feel memories bubble to the surface. 

He was five years old. He had asked over and over again for the puppy that waited for him under the Christmas tree. Joy burst from him as he walked down the stairs, the wiggling from the golden retriever puppy almost too much for his mother to control. The warmth of the licks on his face and he embraced his new best friend.

He was eleven years old. The room was dark despite the sunny day. The coffin at the front of the room is draped in flowers, a bright blue flag bearing the symbol of the Federation fluttering lightly at the edges in the airflow of the room; the flowers were beautiful but at the moment he wasn’t processing it. The numbness that had persisted in the weeks since his sister’s death had yet to abate. It wouldn’t for weeks. Once it did he would vow to honor her by taking up the mantle she had left behind: being a starship pilot.

He was 16. His day had been tangled up in school finals; he had to ace finals if he wanted to get into Starfleet Academy. Now, at the end of the day, he sat outside, the soft sand of Alki Beach underneath him. The anxiety of school had dissipated but a new anxiety had replaced it. Jason sat cross-legged across from him, knees just barely touching. Light blue eyes, like the sky on a bright autumn morning, freckles sprayed across his nose, curly red hair framing his face before it stopped at his shoulders. It looked soft and he wanted nothing more than to find out if that was true. They’d tap danced around their growing feelings for weeks, as teenagers often do the first time they experience this, but now there wasn’t any more tap dancing to be done. Lips met, hands tangled in hair that was indeed soft, warmth spread through his chest, the spark of a sweet teenage romance beginning. 

He was 22. The stage was immense and so was the amphitheatre. It had to be to hold that many brand-new Ensigns. He stood up on the stage with the rest of the new flight control officers, organized in alphabetical order with the precision that Starfleet was known for. He spotted his parents in the crowd. His father held onto his mother as tears ran down his cheek. They finally got the moment they were denied when his sister died. He looked up, smiling at nothing in particular. I did it, Sarah. We can finally fly together.

The memories that flashed by in a matter of seconds only delayed the inevitable. The voices grew louder and more comforting. He could hear her. The comforting voice welcoming her children to their new home. The chorus of thousands of his brothers and sisters joining her. It was perfection. 

He turned to face Mariah, phaser already in his right hand. He didn’t hear the gasp she let out as she saw his face; the tendrils of assimilation worming their way across it. 

“We are Borg. Eliminate the unassimilated.”

–Archi Colony–

Lieutenant Jetua tapped at the buttons on the tricorder, trying to get it to interface with the panel in front of her to try and get the door open. Like almost everything on this planet, it had been an effort in futility so far. No matter what he did the T’Kon virus that infested the computer systems compensated. This was the fifth attempt to open a door that led to a new section and the fifth failure.

She turned to her companion for the day, Ensign Kerrit. “This one looks like it’s a bust. I’ve got one more trick to try  then we’ll move onto the last one.” She turned back to the locked door and focused on the tricorder.

“Are all you humans this way? You never recognize when you should just give up and move on.”

The words didn’t register with her right away but she turned to look at him. “What did you say?”

The ensign in front of her rolled its eyes. “Typical. You creatures are as ignorant as ever. You don’t deserve the Alpha Quadrant.”

Jetua arched an eyebrow, confused as to what was going on. She looked Kerrit over. His eyes were glazed over, skin flushed and sweaty. He was leaning against the wall as if he was out of energy. “Kerrit, are you ok?”

Its eyes narrowed and glowered at the women. “I will be better when humanity has submitted and the rightful rulers of the Alpha Quadrant are in control.”

She opened her mouth but her voice caught in her throat as she saw Kerrit’s arm out of the corner of her eye. It rippled under the bright lights in the hallway, black uniform giving way to a deep golden color. It would have only taken her 6.3 seconds to shift from getting ready to talk to screaming but that was a few seconds too many. 

The ‘arm’ of the Changeling shot forward, wrapping itself around the woman’s neck. In moments the start of her scream died away as her larynx and trachea were crushed under the force of the attack. The Changeling released her neck and the body of Lieutenant Preda Jetua hit the floor with a soft thud. 

It allowed itself to return to its true form, relief spending through it as it shed its ‘solid’ disguise. With minimal effort, it slipped into one of the vents at floor level. It may have been cut off from its brothers and sisters but Frontier Day was finally here and nothing would stop it from playing its role in what was to come.