“Ah, patients. Excellent. Who’s first?”

“Oh hell no,” Rosa muttered.

Mitchell, ever the stalwart, just stared at the hologram for a half-second. “Computer, end program.”

Nothing happened before the EMH turned to face the hazard team leader, a maniacal smile spreading across its pasty features. “Now now, can’t have patients running the sickbay, my good sir.” It held up a hand as it started stalking towards Mitchell, a scalpel shimmering into existence in its tight grip. “But I’ll take your belligerence as volunteering to be first.”

“No, thank you,” Mitchell countered, copying the hologram’s faux-politeness, then raised his phaser and fired, taking the hologram straight in the chest.

To no effect.

It shimmered in a faint circular pattern around the point of impact, around the exit point too, as the beam passed harmlessly through the hologram and straight into the wall on the far side of the control centre. The EMH stopped for a moment, checking its abdomen, then looked up, a look of disappointment on its face. “Anger management issues. We can fix that. We’ll start with the amygdala and go from there, yes?”

“That’s no fucking EMH,” Rosa shouted, firing her weapon, just as futilely as Mitchell’s had been.

“Of course not my dear,” the rogue hologram teased. “I’ve been augmented, expanded if you will. All the best medical professionals in this station’s admittedly meagre database, none of the ethics.” It turned to Rosa, ignoring its initial prey of Mitchell. “Think of the things we’ll learn, yes?”

“I’ve had enough creepy shit this year,” Amber growled from where she still stood near Conway’s body. As she brought her weapon up, it wasn’t pointed at the hologram much like Gantzmann and Brek’s were as they raised theirs, but at the ceiling. A small emitting diode stuck out of the ceiling, repeated across the ceiling to give full coverage of the entire compartment. As she glanced down her weapon, she squeezed the firing stud and blasted the piece of retrofitted technology into a shower of sparks and slag.

The whole hologram shimmered, faltered momentarily for a second, then spun on Amber, anger plastered across its features as sparks continued to rain down on its bald head. “You are damaging sensitive medical equipment!” it screeched, then shimmered out of existence, only to reappear directly in front of Amber, the scalpel raised before being brought down in a severe stabbing motion. “I’m going to insist you stop!”

Amber’s motions were quick as she ducked sideways and down, away from the jab. She brought her rifle to bear on the angle of attack, gripping the barrel to form a block against the follow-up attack as a now rather solid holo-scalpel met phaser rifle. She was forced down under a flurry of blows from the mad hologram, crashing to her back by a creature with no constraint on its strength or speed seemingly before it simply ceased to be. No shimmer, no fading away, just there and then gone.

Fountains of sparks from all over the ceiling rained down on all present before fading into nothing, dropping the control centre once more into the gloom it had been in. As quickly as the whole thing had started, it ended, once more in a hail of fire.

“Are you alright Ensign?” Brek asked as he offered a hand to help Amber to her feet, a task completed with no physical strain on his behalf.

“Fine, fine,” Amber answered. “Seriously, it’s someone else’s turn to get knocked on their ass.”

“Fightmaster once again missing all the fun,” Rosa grumbled.

“Enough of that,” Mitchell chided. “Just how much of this station was retrofitted with holoemitters?”

“Crew of one, I’m betting most of it,” Amber answered. “So no matter where you were when you got injured, the EMH could show up to help out.”

“The emitters in the control centre were likely the most obvious as well,” Brek added. “Minimal ceiling space to retrofit them in, unlike the rest of the station.”

“Guess days like this are why we get the fun assignments,” Rosa said. “So, we’re safe here for now, but if we move out we need to sweep for holoemitters to make sure Mr Hyde doesn’t jump out at Amber.” She exhaled sharply when Amber punched her in the arm. “Sorry.”

“We still need to make contact with Atlantis and –“ Mitchell stopped as bright light flooded through the windows briefly, casting new, darker shadows and illuminating the rest of the space. And then disappeared as quickly as it came. Before it returned, shorter this time before fading as well. And again and again, it repeated.

The whole team moved to the windows, looking for the source of light in the distance. The light reappeared after a period, in three long bursts which helped them locate which of the many specks in the distance were responsible.

“There,” Brek said as he pointed at one in particular.

“Atlantis?” Rosa asked. “Reduced to blinking lights at us?”

“B,” Gantzmann declared. “O.”

“Morse code?” Mitchell asked of Gantzmann, earning a head nod as an answer. “I am not surprised ma’am you know such an antiquated and retired communication method.”

“R,” Lin said as a response after another series of light flashes.

“Bored,” Rosa hazarded as a guess. “The captain is bored.”

“G,” Lin concluded. “Borg.”

“Now how would they know that?” Mitchell asked, then waved to cut off Brek before a supposition could be given. “Something must have tipped them off from outside.”

“But it means they are aware of the problem as well at least,” Lin said. “Which means they’ll be working the problem from outside, while we can continue working it from inside.”

“Any further ideas on how to make contact with the ship?” Mitchell asked of his team.

“Doesn’t this place have a shuttle?” Amber asked. “And it’s comms would be independent, yes?”

“Assuming the Borg aren’t jamming all comms and have only cut off station communications, it would be a viable alternative,” Brek answered. “But likely only a temporary solution until they adapt their approach.”

“And the drone was resistant to phaser fire?” Mitchell asked, a nod from Lin and Brek in the affirmative. “We need an alternative way to put it down then, which likely means luring it out of the computer core as well.”

“Turn off the station’s reactor,” Amber suggested. “Or at least mess about with the outputs. Take it off the primary command loop, so the main computer can’t override us, then start changing things. The drone will have to come and stop us. God, I’m suggesting we lure a drone to us.”

“No, not to us. To a trap.” Mitchell’s smile was confident, reassuring even for this team. “It’s a good idea, Amber. Take Brek and Rosa with you, got get started. The Commander and I will hit the shuttlebay and see if we can’t raise a line with the ship. We’ll join you afterwards.”

The three of them nodded, checked their weapons and started for the door, with Rosa letting a shot loose as soon as she was out the door and spotted an emitter in the ceiling.

Lin stepped up beside Mitchell, silent for a moment before she spoke. “Shuttles also have independent replicator systems.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“If we do manage to talk to Atlantis, we need to be concise in case comms do get cut again.”

“Yes ma’am,” Mitchell repeated.

“I need a sword,” Lin said with a sigh, then headed for the door.