—- Bridge —-

With no power the bride sat in relative darkness, illuminated by flashlight and some emergency lighting around the doors. The Captain had to dress in near darkness, and he and the First Officer were joined by most of the rest of the senior crew to discuss their situation with Chief Engineer Young being absent as he was working on getting the ship going.

“The Borg were still outside of sensor range before we lost power,” Lieutenant Commander Th’kaotross said, “I assume they are continuing on their previous speed which would put them two hours away now.”

Pr’Nor shook her head, “Once we stopped I’d assume they cut their speed. Warp nine point nine is hard, even for Borg engines. If we’re not running they’re not running as fast, plus they have to think we’re setting a trap. Rushing in would be an illogical move.”

”We can’t count on the bastards slowing down,” Captain Hawthorne said.

”What’s our plan for fight off a boarding party,” Commander Cruz asked Th’kaotross.

”Without power we can’t see them when they arrive,” he pointed out, “and communication is affected. Assuming they follow previous pre-Fleet Day strategies we fight them, deck by deck, but getting everyone armed is going to be hard since you can’t make a ship wide announcement.”

Jara said, “We doubt the Borg has another Fleet Day like trick up their sleeve. I’d look at one on one combat, though they outnumber us by like one hundred to one.”

”Which brings up, the crew is obviously very anxious about the Borg. Before we lost power they were worried, now they’re on the verge of full blown panic,” Lieutenant Kolem the half-Betazoid said.

”Giving a bunch of scared people guns in the dark doesn’t seem safe,” Lieutenant Dorian said.

They all knew that if Young didn’t get them back online, they had no chance. Everything else they were doing was just, resistance for the sake of resistance. A few more minutes before they joined the collective.

—- Nine Forward, Lounge —-

“We’re screwed, dead,” Lieutenant Junior Grade Thomas Winfield was saying. He was pretty sure any moment he’d see a Borg cube outside the window and next thing he knew a Borg would be turning him into one of them, again. It was not something he was looking forward to.

Lieutenant Maria Cortez shrugged, “Last day as a human I guess.”

”You’re the Borg girl, you’re like those girls in the twenthieth century that wanted to turn into vampires. Bite my neck Dracula, that sort of thing. Hume told me about you,” Winfield said, not that he got up and changed tables. Sure the woman was freaky, but so was everyone in their own way.

”Maybe I would have been. Vampire seems fun, you live forever, turn into a bat, what’s wrong with that?” she asked.

”But Borg,” Winfield said.

Cortez sighed, illuminated by only flashlights and the odd emergency light they had had to break into the stock behind the bar, which was getting them actually drunk. Probably not good in a life of death situation, but both of them were off duty, and if they were going to be killed might as well do it drunk.

”Logical like a Vulcan, strong like a Klingon,” Cortez said.

”Humans are good, we have passion and feelings, and eat food,” Winfield said.

”Drink drunks,“ Cortez agreed.

”Drink drunks. See you get it,” Winfield said.

”I’m a vampire can I bite your neck?” she asked.

”Are you a vampire. I think the transporter would have caught that,” Winfield said.

”Come over here and find out how accurate that is,” Cortez crooked a finger.

”You’re drunk,” Winfield said.

”So are you,” Cortez responded.

”Okay, fair point,” Winfield said.

”We should sleep it off together,” Cortez said and then bite his neck. 

Winfield rubbed his neck, she hadn’t broken the skin, but the area still stung from the attempt, “Okay but no more biting, that wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be.”

—- Engineering —-

Lieutenant Young was panicking. He’d reset everything and was doing it for a third time now. The ship had life support and gravity, but not main power which was making everything hard now. The engines should have been up, but they weren’t and they were sitting ducks for the Borg.

”You don’t actually think this is because you and T’Rala had fun last night,” Engsign Constable said as she crawled out from under a console. 

The look that the Chief Engineer gave his assistant showed that he very much did, although he could not think of a corollary reason. The two obviously were not connected, but he took his eye off the ball for twenty seconds and then, “We didn’t even have fun as you put it. She just drugged me to sleep and then I woke up and broke the ship.”

”Maybe you should have had fun,” Constable said.

Young ignored her. 

“She’s a hot Romulan why don’t you?” she asked.

”I’m not interested in flings. I want something more serious than she’s offering. You’re the one who told me about her and Jara,” Young said replacing a handful of isolear chips.

“Well look she’s not married, neither of them are. You can’t blame someone for having fun with another if you’re not involved,” Constable said.

”I just want to marry someone and T’Rala seems very much not it,” he said.

”You’re such a man,” Constable mocked him, “you just want a wife who’d going to have the replicator make you steak every night at six, so you can read the news feed.”

”That’s not what I want,” protested Young, “Adjust the output on that by ten degrees.”

Constable did as instructed, “Well then give in, take her out. On a date. You do and I’ll fix the ship.”

“Fine, if you can fix this I’ll go on a date with her,” Young said.

”Oh I’ve fixed it three minutes ago,” Constable said, she hit a console and suddenly the ship came to life, power restored. 

“What, how?” Young asked.

”We had to shut down and redo the ignition sequence, with routing the power through these new dilithum crystals, so we didn’t overwhelm the system,” she said, “but let’s not shut down the engines again until we’re at a starbase okay.”

Young sighed, “Fine, okay. And yes, I’ll keep my word.”

—- Bridge —-

The lights came back. 

“How far are the Borg,” Hawthorne asked. 

Th’kaotross looked at his restored conn, “And hour away, maybe. Going at warp six.”

Hawthorne tapped his badge, “What can you give me Young.”

”Not top speed. We need to stay under warp eight if you can. I still have to solidify everything, make sure we’re running properly, and there’s no more surprises,” Young replied over the comm.

”Good, send me the report and check everything over and then take some time off,” Hawthorne said “You need a break. Lieutenant Pr’Nor warp eight, away from the Borg please.”

”Sir,” the Vulcan said as she took the ship into warp, away from the Borg as requested.

—- Chief Counselor’s Quarters —-

“I remember it all,” Kolem said as she lay on Hume, her head against his chest.

”The whole thing?” he asked surprised. He only had brief glimpses of his time as a Borg on Fleet Day. Hearing that Kolem remembered it all was shocking.

”I killed a Lieutenant Commander,“ she said, “I remember aiming at him and squeezing the trigger and seeing him drop.“

”I’m sorry,” Hume ran his hand through her hair.

”I’m terrified of going back, of them catching us,” Kolem said.

”They won’t, we have warp again,” Hume assured her, knowing that no promises could be made but making them anyway.

”Do you know what killing someone is like as an Empath?” she asked.

”No,” Hume said.

”I felt him die, his consciousness leaving. A full Betazoid, maybe they were assimilated fully, but the Borg virus didn’t know what to do with my mongrel blood,” she said.

 “Hey, you’re not a mongrel. You’re perfect,” Hume said, pulling her up so he could look into her eyes.

Kolem sighed and leaned against his shoulder, “I don’t usually feel that way. But thank you.“

”I‘m always here for you,” he said.