It had been thirty-six hours since the Cromwell had left the away team on the surface. There’d been regular check-ins every couple of hours but it still felt like time was dragging. DeMont was on the screen now, briefing the bridge team on their latest status. 

“We’re roughly seventy-five percent done, sir. We’ve been trying to isolate the signal and stop it as we go, but it keeps migrating systems. Even with the cube remnants completely depowered, it stays active. I don’t think we’ll kill the signal until all of the cube has been destroyed,” He explained. 

“I don’t guess we can just disintegrate it with phasers could we?” Cromwell asked, already pretty confident in the answer. 

“Honestly, it’d take longer to do that,” DeMont shook his head. “The cube walls are so dense and made of such sturdy stuff, we’d be going through power cells like candy. Right now, we have a good process, it’s just a big chunk of stuff,” He explained, then a mischievous grin crossed his face. “If you’ve got a way to hit it with a high yield photon torpedo, that’d do the trick, but otherwise, we’re scrappin’ and burning, sir,” He explained. 

Cromwell chuckled, “I think the collateral damage from that might be a little hard to justify,” He gave DeMont a grin, “Keep it up, Lieutenant. If you need anything from us – other than photon torpedoes – let me know.” 

“Yessir,” DeMont replied with a grin. “Everything all quiet up there?” 

“So far so good. No signs of any Borg interest in the system. Hopefully we got here in time to prevent any encounters,” Cromwell replied, nodding. 

“Good to hear it, sir. We’ll keep chugging along and keeping you posted. DeMont out.” 

The comm channel closed and Cromwell made his way back to the center chair, where he sat with a huff. “That high-yield torpedo plan almost sounds like a good idea at this point,” He gave his XO a grin. 

“Don’t tempt me. I’ll fire it myself,” Dumouchel replied dryly, adjusting in her seat. “I wouldn’t mind some quiet waiting if there wasn’t the looming threat of a Borg incursion. That part makes it almost unbearable,” She’d been doing everything she could to distract herself, from reading books to filing deck reports, but nothing seemed to take off the edge. She had a bottle of Chateau Picard in her quarters that would do the trick, but Starfleet frowned on Senior Officers being tipsy on the bridge. 

“Yeah, that really is the worst part,” Cromwell admitted. 

Both of them fell back into the silence they’d gotten accustomed to over the list thirty-six hours. It wasn’t an awkward one, but rather the comfortable kind, in spite of the looming threat. Cromwell liked Dumouchel so far. He liked her a lot, honestly. She was plain spoken, unafraid to voice her opinion, but gentle in her approach. As much as he’d been sad when Peri was called away to her own command, he was confident that Amie would be a worthy replacement. 

About thirty minutes into it, their silence was broken by an alert at the Science station. 

“Report,” Cromwell stood, fighting to keep his heart from racing. 

“Transwarp signatures, sir,” The young science officer replied, his voice tight. “Out at the edge of the system.” 

“Borg contact?” 

“No sir– wait! Yes, Borg sphere just emerged from the transwarp conduit. It’s on an intercept course, sir!” 

“Red alert!” Cromwell called, “How long before contact?” 

“Sixty seconds, sir. It’s coming in hot.” 

“Open a channel to the surface,” He said, stepping forward to the viewscreen as the ops officer complied. 

A few moments later, DeMont’s face appeared on the screen, “Sir, we were just about to hail you. The broadcast signal just changed substantially, and we–” 

“There is a Borg sphere in the system, approaching quickly. Is there any way we can destroy the relic?” Cromwell interrupted and watched as the man’s face when white. He was proud of DeMont in that moment. It was clear that the news came as a shock and he knew it carried a large amount of fear with it, but he maintained his professionalism and poise. 

“Sir, the only thing I could think of is to overload the base’s reactor. That would most likely destroy all of it,” He explained. 

“How long would it take to evacuate the base?” 

“Half an hour, tops.”

“That’s too long.”

“Commodore,” Dumouchel’s voice cut through his thoughts, “That is an insufficient plan, anyway. The Borg will assimilate this system if we do not get rid of them,” She offered. “We need some sort of bait to lure them away.” 

Cromwell seemed to consider that for a moment, then snapped his fingers, “It’s already on the hook.” 

Dumouchel cocked her head to the side, “Sir?” 

Cromwell ignored her, and turned his attention back to DeMont, “Can we transport the remaining chunk out of deep storage?”

“Uhm… there’s a tachyon dispersal field that will probably cause some issues, but a wide-band targeting matrix should fix that.” 

“Get ready for transport, Lieutenant. Cromwell out,” He said, motioning for Ops to kill the comm channel. “Setup for a wide-band targeting matrix and adjust for the Tachyon dispersal field. Lock on to the scientists down there and that chunk of Borg cube and beam it directly to Cargo Bay 4. Tactical, bring down the shields long enough for transport, then bring them back up,” He said, earning a nod from both stations.  

Dumouchel groaned, “Oui, that’s what I thought you were doing.” 

“We have to get these Borg out of here, or all of the people on this world are in danger.” 

“No, mon capitaine, I completely agree with the plan. I just happen to hate it, all at the same time,” She admitted. 

Cromwell gave her a wry grin, “It’s not my favorite, either.” 

“Commodore, the Sphere is within visual range. They’re hailing us,” The Ops officer called. 

“On screen.”

The Sphere took up most of the screen as it appeared. The crackled voices of the collective because their usual rhetoric and Cromwell tapped his mouth so the Ops officer would kill outbound audio, “Do we have the Cube chunk aboard yet?” 

“Aye, sir. Cube is aboard. Got a request from the surface to bring a Doctor Rodriguez about as well. She’s been working with the relic,” He explained. 

“Good,” Cromwell replied, motioning for him to unmute the outbound audio. “Borg Sphere,” He spoke strongly, interrupting the Collective mid-spiel, “We have the chunk of Cube you’re looking for. No other Borg technology is on the planet. What you seek is here, aboard the Lafayette.” 

There was a long pause. Cromwell looked back to his tactical officer and his operations officer in turn, and both shrugged, unsure of what was happening. 

Finally, the Borg sphere responded, “Your statement is inaccurate, but sufficient. Surrender your ship. Prepared to be assimilated. Resistance is–” 

“They’re moving to intercept!” Came the call from the science station. 

“Mister Rawles! Ahead, warp 8,” Cromwell ordered, returning to his seat next to Dumouchel. 

“Yessir!” 

The stars in the viewport stretched out to lines as the Lafayette shot into warp. 

“Mister Meyers, are our friends along for the ride?” He asked the young man at the science station. 

“Sensors indicate they’re right behind us, sir.” 

Dumouchel looked over to the CO, “Mon ami… we have a shark on our hook. What do we do with it?” 

Cromwell stared out the viewport intently, and shook his head, “Don’t know… making this up as I go.” 

“Very reassuring… I don’t know if that worries me more or our Borg friends saying your statement was ‘inaccurate but sufficient’… what do you suppose that meant?” 

“I don’t know, but we can’t stick around to find out.”