Commodore Cromwell unzipped his duty jacket as he stepped off of the turbolift on deck two and headed toward his quarters. He and Amie had gotten the Lafayette underway en route to Canderus Prime, but it’d be a few more days before they got there. He hated that, because as word of the mission and direct orders spread through the crew, he know that the fear and apprehension of what was to come would become a daily part of their lives. He hated that for them… it hadn’t been long since they’d had to fight in these hallways to try and corral the younger members of his crew when the Borg remotely assimilated them. 

Pete scowled, thinking about that. As if it wasn’t bad enough that they could do it at close range, now they could do it from a cross a planetary system? That wasn’t fair. 

That whole incident had reopened a trauma in him that he’d long thought he’d seen the end of. Amie had been the first person he’d spoken to about Wolf 359 in years. Over a decade. It was one of those events that had been devastating to the galaxy, but after a few years, most people only thought of it as a statistic in the history books. It wasn’t for Pete. For him, it was the remnant of a living nightmare. 

He’d had decades to try and get over it, to learn to cope with the fear and the paranoia and the pain. Still, even after all that time, this was causing a nervous ache in his core that he didn’t want to think about. He could only imagine the feelings it was drumming up in the other members of his crew, both those assimilated and those who had to fight them so recently. He made mental note to ask the ship’s counselor to touch base with all of them. 

Cromwell stepped into his room and pulled his jacket off, settling onto his couch and letting out a heavy sigh. “Computer, hot cocoa, with cinnamon, please.” His mind wandered as the cup shimmered into existence in the replicator. “And open a secured line to Grace Cromwell, Earth.” 

Pete got up and retrieved his hot cocoa, find a seat in front of his communicator just as Gracie appeared on the screen. 

“Hello, my love, it’s good to see your face,” The woman on the other side of the line beamed brightly at him for a moment before her expression changed, slightly. “What’s wrong?”

Pete chuckled, “Why does something have to be wrong?” 

Grace gave him a look that said everything, but dove into an explanation anyway, “Well… you’ve called me on a secured line which means you’re going to take advantage of the fact that I still have a Starfleet security clearance because I’m working with SF R&D, which means you’re probably going to talk to me about a mission. And if you’re going to talk to me about a mission that would require me to have security clearance, that most likely means you’re going to talk to me about a mission you haven’t completed yet. And if you’re going to talk to me about a mission you haven’t completed yet, it means you’re worried about something,” She eyed him the entire time she was talking, enjoying the guilty grin between sips of cocoa as she went. “You’re also drinking hot cocoa. So, my love, what’s wrong?” 

Pete chuckled, “That’s what being with someone for thirty years gets me, eh? No secrets at all?” 

Gracie gave him a smile overflowing with love, “No secrets at all.”

Pete smiled back and nodded, then sighed, looking down at the slowly swirling forth in his drink, “It’s old ghosts.” 

“What ghosts?”

“The Borg.” 

To her credit, Gracie didn’t react. Pete saw her go the slightest bit pale, but other than that, she just slowly nodded her head, “That’s… that’s one hell of a ghost.” Her words were quiet, not quite choked, but definitely strained. She’d been with him in that escape pod, barely escaping the Borg. “How’s your heart?” 

Pete smiled at her. She didn’t mean the physical, beating organ in his chest. She meant the one that held his hopes and fears and everything in between. That had been something she’d asked him early in their relationship. He was confused at first, until she explained it, and after that it was one of his favorite questions she’d ask him. Gracie meant it, so genuinely. 

He shook his head, “I don’t know, honestly. It’s… a lot to take in,” He admitted.

“I can only imagine,” Gracie let out a low, sorrowful sound, “Your poor crew… After everything that they’d been through, to have to deal with the Borg again so soon,” She said, shaking her head. 

“I know. I’m worried about them, too.” 

“Couldn’t they have sent a different ship?” 

“No, they’re sending me for a reason, actually,” He explained. “Do you remember Devol Outpost?” 

“Oh! Doctor Pavel, yes!” 

Pete nodded, “Yep. Apparently, about three years ago, he stumbled across some Borg tech. It’s recently started broadcasting a signal, and Starfleet Command is concerned that it’s a call home signal and the Borg are going to come looking for it.”  

Gracie was quiet for a few moments, nodding her head slowly, “How serious is the Borg threat right now?” She asked, finally getting to the broader issues. 

“It’s hard to say,” He admitted. “So far, it’s been sensor ghosts and possible sightings, but Pavel’s chunk of tech isn’t the only piece that’s broadcasting. According to the intel reports I’ve seen, it’s all broadcasting.” 

“Literally all of it?” Gracie asked, wide eyed. 

“All of it that’s big enough to send a signal,” Pete replied with a nod. 

Gracie considered that for a moment, then shook her head, “I may hate the Borg, but even I have to admit their tech is impressive,” She chuckled dryly at the thought. 

Pete laughed too and nodded, “Yeah, no kidding. If only Starfleet tech could be that efficient.” 

With the details sorted, Gracie’s face turned concerned again as she regarded her husband of almost thirty years, “You’re going to be okay, Pete. You’re in a unique position, you know? You’ve already been through this. Literally exactly this. You know what it means to be face to face with those monsters and come out alive. You know the strength that gives you, and the weaknesses. And here you are, facing your fears along with your crew,” Her tone was gentle and kind, and so proud. “They’re going to need you, more than you know. And none of them know how lucky they are to have you with them.”

Pete looked down at his hands as she spoke, “I don’t want them to go through what I did, Gracie. The night terrors, the fear… I don’t want that for them.” 

“You can’t fix that part, Pete. But you can help them get through it,” Gracie said, her tone comforting. 

“Every time I walk these hallways, and I look at these kids… God, Gracie, they’re not that much younger than Meg. When I think about the things they’ll see over their next run of time in Starfleet: slavers, famine, cruelty… It doesn’t seem fair,” He admitted.

“Oh, Pete, always trying to protect everyone,” Gracie had no hint of malice or disdain in her voice. Pete’s need to care for those around him in whatever capacity he could was one of his most endearing qualities as far as she was concerned. “You can’t keep them from seeing the darkness out there, but you can teach them to find the light, my love. And I know you will. You always have.” 

“I always try to,” He said, quietly. 

“Branson was different.” 

Pete didn’t respond, but shook his head slightly, “I’m just… I guess I’m scared, darlin.” It wasn’t an easy thing for Pete to admit that, but to Gracie he knew he had to. 

“Of course you are,” She replied. “I am, too. But you’ll get through this, Peter. And once you’re on the other side, it will be fine.” 

Pete chuckled a little bit, “I feel like after thirty years of this, I shouldn’t get scared anymore.” 

“Fear is one of the few things in the universe that is eternal, my love,” Grace replied with a smile. “You used to tell Meg that fear was useful. That it helped you to be careful, and to stay alert. That fear kept you alive. You still believe that, right?” 

Pete gave her a playful look, “Don’t quote me to me,” He teased. 

Gracie laughed at that. Her big laugh, the one that Pete loved; the one that lit up a room like a summer day. “Pete Cromwell, I will quote whoever I damn well please at you, including yourself.” 

He laughed again, more easily this time, and smiled at her, “Would you still love me if I was a drone?” 

Gracie’s face faltered a bit, but she forced a smile, “Don’t even joke, Peter Cromwell. You promised me in five years we’d move out to the country and you’d let all of this go. Being turned into a drone would seriously hamper that,” She replied, flatly. 

“Bad joke,” Pete said, raising his hands in mock defense. “I’m sorry.” 

“I won’t hold it against you, this time,” She gave him a wink and a smile that wasn’t as forced. 

“You never do,” He replied, giving her a gentle smile. “I love you, Gracie.” 

“I love you too, Peter. To the corners of the universe,” She replied. “Go get some sleep, you’re going to need it.” 

Pete blinked, a little too long, and nodded, “You’re right.” 

“Always am.” 

“That’s fair.”

“Touch in as much as you can, okay? Let me know you’re alive and well?” She asked. 

“You know I will,” Pete reassured her. 

“I know, but I always like to remind you. Just in case you’re thinking about slacking off,” She gave him a wink and a playful smile. 

“Good night, love,” Pete said. 

“Good night, my darling.”

As soon as the comm switched off, Pete sighed. Something about talking with Grace always made his heart feel less heavy and his outlook brighter. He stood and gave a stretch. She was right, he needed to rest. A sonic shower, and then to bed. He’d worry about the rest tomorrow. 

“Intruder alert on Deck 7! Intruder alert on Deck 9! Intruder alert on Deck 15! Intruder alert–”“Computer! Stop verbal alerts!” Pete barked. 

The Lafayette was in shambles as Pete ran through smoke and gas leaks in the dim red light. He could see from the consoles at the wall that there were intruder alerts on all decks. The Borg were aboard. They’d destroyed the ships shields, beamed on, and began taking the crew. Pete was on his way to the warp core to stop them. He’d blow the ship and end their hopes of mass assimilation.  

He rounded the corner and saw the doors to main engineering, but before he could get there, a cold hand reached out and snatched him by the throat. For all intents and purposes, the cold hand should have given way under his struggles, but it held on like a vice. He beat at the Drone with all of his might, screaming and yelling at it and trying to break it’s concentration, but had no luck. 

He saw the nanoprobe tubules come out of the drone’s arm, and then jam into his neck with a sharp pain. 

Cromwell set bolt upright in bed, screaming. He clawed at his neck for a moment before he realized he was still in his quarters, and everything was fine. He was covered in sweat and breathing heavily as he scanned his room, trying to take in the familiar to help his dream addled brain calm and recenter. 

After a moment, he took a deep breath and muttered some curse words, “Computer, time?” 

“The current time is oh-five-oh-four hundred,” The Computer replied. 

Cromwell sat in his bed for a moment, staring at the sheets, then sighed and got out. Might as well head down to the mess hall for a good breakfast. Lord knows the good night’s sleep part was blown. It had been years since he’d had dreams like this… and he was confident they wouldn’t stop until the mission was over.