Commander Dumouchel sat across from Commodore Cromwell’s desk, drinking her usual rose hip tea as they discussed the mission. She’d had taken the liberty of the couple days travel time to their destination to get to know her knew CO, and so far she very much appreciated his calm, kind demeanor and easy going nature. As much as she’d loved working with Captain Jonas aboard the USS Dallas, his rigid adherence to protocol and etiquette could be… exhausting seemed like a polite word for it. Cromwell had told her she could call him Pete in private within their first thirty minutes together, and she’d spent a good two hours the previous days looking at family pictures and listening to stories of his daughter and wife. She wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

Now, they were enjoying a quiet moment and a warm drink as they waited for the ship to reach its destination. 

“You know the overseer of Devol, non?” She asked. 

“Mm, yeah. When I was an Engineering Officer on the Valley Forge we pretty much built the entire facility for Doctor Pavel,” He took a sip of coffee, “I haven’t seen him in quite a few years now, though.”

“Well, hopefully that will make this whole process easier on him,” She offered. “I’m sure he’ll be very upset to lose his prize.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on it being easy for him. Not with me asking or anyone else,” Cromwell replied, shaking his head. “That piece of Borg tech has brought some incredible technological advancements. He’s not going to want to part with it easily,” Cromwell wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with his old friend. There was an apprehensive knot in his gut whenever he thought about it. 

Dumouchel nodded, “Oui, that is probably very valid.” 

The comm chimed and Cromwell tapped his combadge, “Cromwell.” 

“Sir, we’re about to drop out of warp in orbit above Devol Outpost,” It was Rawles’ voice on the line. 

“Understood, Lieutenant Commander. On our way.” 

He and Dumouchel set their cups back in the replicator and made their way back out to the bridge. The XO took her spot in her chair while Cromwell walked forward to stand between Rawles and Novak at their stations, “Hail the outpost,” He called over his shoulder to DeMont. 

“We’ve got a response,” He said, after a moment. 

“On screen.” 

A caramel-skinned Indian man appeared on the screen. He was older, definitely older the Cromwell, with wispy white hair and dark brown eyes that almost looked black. He looked somehow displeased and amused at the same time as he looked at a man he hadn’t seen in years. He clucked his tongue and shook his head, “Is this how Starfleet handles old scientists? They send their old friends to come and take their toys?” 

“It’s good to see you again, Doctor Pavel,” Cromwell replied, giving the man a genuine smile. 

Pavel smiled back, but it wasn’t an honest smile. It was the smile that you give a used shuttle sales men when he’s trying to convince you that that scrape along the side is actually just a fancy paint job, “I wish I could say the same, Peter, but it is not the same for me. I know why you are here, so I am not glad to see you.” 

Dumouchel let out a small, “Hmm.” 

“Shrini, you know as well as I do–” Cromwell never got to finish his thought. 

“No. No, you do not know. I already told Starfleet Command and the Federation that they could not have this piece of technology. They want it for themselves, for their own labs, to build weapons, to make armor, to wage wars. This technology is something that has allowed me to make the world a better place, Peter! How dare you come here to take it from me!” Pavel was diminuative, but as he raged against the injustices of the galaxy, he seemed to be about three times his size. 

“Shrini, it’s dangerous!” 

“It’s research!”

“It’s Borg technology!” 

“It’s dormant Borg technology, Cromwell. It’s a chunk of a cube. It’s nothing. It’s not a nanobot, it’s not a drone. It’s a chunk of cube! We’ve been digging into their networks and circuitry, we’ve been able to access how their programming works. It’s just a chunk of ship!” 

“It’s broadcasting a signal, Shrini.” 

“Many things in the universe broadcast signals, Peter!” Shrini practically spat the words. 

“And how many of those things could actually bring the god damned Borg down on your head?” Cromwell barked. He’d kept his cool, but was clearly done being nice. He walked right up on the viewscreen as he continued, “How many of things could have you and your whole damn lab assimilated, sucked into a cube, and forced to live a life half-alive in the service of the collective? Huh? Answer me that, Shrini. Is your arrogance worth your life? Maybe to you. But is it worth your friends and fellow researchers? Are you playing god today? Is that why you get to make that decision for them?” 

The doctor suddenly seemed small again as he looked at Pete, wide-eyed, working his mouth but without uttering a word. 

“No,” Cromwell’s voice was back to a normal level now. “No, you’re just an arrogant scientist who’s been so blinded by his success that he cant tell when his damned toy has become too dangerous.”

Pavel finally snapped his mouth shut as Cromwell walked back to stand in front of the center chair. The bridge was a was so quiet you could hear his shoes brush across the carpet. Even the monitors and chimes from the computers seemed to echo in the space.

“I’m not here to play, Shrini, and I’m not here to debate. My science and Engineering teams are coming down to disassemble and dispose of the Borg relic and insure that any and all remaining Borg technology is disposed of as well, per Starfleet regulations, and you are not going to fight me or cause problems. Is that clear?” 

Pavel stared at Cromwell for a long moment, but finally nodded, “It is clear.” 

“Great. Then we’ll see you shortly,” Cromwell replied, turning back to DeMont and jerking his hand across his neck to let him know to cut the feed, which DeMont did with impressive speed. Cromwell sat down heavily in his chair, letting out a frustrated sigh as he did so.

The bridge hung silent for a moment before Dumounchel looked over at Cromwell with an exaggerated smile on her face, “Ah… loving reunions, non?” 

Cromwell couldn’t help but laugh at that and shake his head, “He always was a stubborn old bat,” He turned back and looked at Tamlin and Stravek, “Get your teams together and get down there. Take DeMont with you. Get that thing disassembled and destroyed. And make sure he doesn’t have any other pieces of Borg tech lying around. I don’t want any single piece of it left, got me?” 

“Yessir,” Tamlin replied with a nod, already heading to the turbolift with Stravek and DeMont in tow. 

Once the away team had departed, Dumouchel looked over to Cromwell, “Now what, mon capitaine?”

“Now,” Cromwell said with a sigh, “We wait. And hope that the Borg don’t show up before we’re done.”