Materialising in mid-air, Dolan reached out desperately for whatever source of stability he could find.  His limbs flailed recklessly as soon as the annular confinement beam had released him.  Before he hit the ground, all his fist could grasp was a splattering of water.  The sky had opened up, and it drenched Dolan in tears.  Warm, angry tears.

The Borg had come.

The Borg had come, and the sky was crying.

Gravity claimed him and his body trampled through the shubbery, shoulder first.  His tumble down the hill felt unending.  Before long, a faint sense of acceptance washed over him.  This would be his life now, he supposed.  His entire existence became rolling and somersaulting, end over end.  He would know no relief or rest, only falling.

Suddenly, he fell still.

Dolan rolled onto his back, groaning at the myriad aches that were scattered through his body.  He lay in the long grass; the wet early felt comfortingly soft beneath him.  He couldn’t find the strength to shield his eyes from the rain, so he blinked heavily.  His eyes opened, and they closed, and when they opened again, Kellin was standing over him.

“Dee?” Kellin asked, worry resounding in the words.  “Dee?  Are you still with us?”

Dolan didn’t know how to answer.

In that moment, Kellin personified paradox.  He possessed the stature of a paragon, but he was looking haggard: There was blood on Kellin’s cheek.  His blond pompadour was soaked through and hanging over his eyes.  Worse, his isolation suit had been tattered, much like Dolan’s.  The holographic stealth gear was falling off them, revealing the standard Starfleet uniforms beneath.

Even without a symbiont, Kellin was a Trill containing multitudes.  To Dolan, Kellin was still the precocious security officer whom Dolan had idolized from afar on Starbase 72.  He was still the Changeling masquerading as a himbo who claimed Dolan’s trust, all of his trust and affection.  And Kellin was still this grinning husk that had returned to Constellation; a shell hiding something new inside.  Although Dolan didn’t know which one awaited him, Kellin’s arm looked strong, and the rain was still in Dolan’s eyes.

Dolan took Kellin’s hand and Kellin hoisted him to his feet.

“For better or worse,” Dolan said, “I’m still with you.”

Addae Danbo was kneeling in the grass a dozen paces away, looking just as dishevelled as the other two.  His chin-length purple hair was matted to his head, and the Barzan appeared to have no difficulty breathing.  Even at a distance, Dolan could see that the breathers on Addae’s jaw seemed intact.

“What is that marvel?” Addae asked, pointing to the sky.

Impossibly, an island was being thrust into the upper atmosphere by bilious green light.  It looked scooped out of the ground and heaved through the air.  That chunk of the planet, the size of a small town, was stolen into orbit.

Kellin tapped the combadge on his chest and it made a blurp sound.  Dolan was all too familiar with that sound.  That sound recurred in his nightmares.  It meant the combadge could locate no friendly subspace networks or communication nodes.  Reacting quickly, Dolan patted down the side of his thigh, tearing a hole in his isolation suit open wider.  As his hand clasped around it, Dolan was exhilarated to find his tricorder secured in the holster on his hip.

Flipping open the tricorder, Dolan activated its scanning function.  He used the side of his hand to swipe rain  off the display.  The very first second Dolan reached a conclusion from what he read, he shared it aloud.

“This tricorder’s range is shit,” Dolan said.  “There’s a particle scattering field dispersing through the atmosphere.  It’s interfering with sensors, communication…”

“Oh, that’s why they left us here,” Kellin remarked, looking upwards.

“What other reason did you think?” Dolan asked incredulously.  And then sheepishly, he said, “…What other reason did you think, sir?  Sorry.”

Rising to his feet, Addae said, “They won’t be able to locate us from orbit.”

“They will find us,” Kellin affirmed, standing taller.  “We’re going to find shelter until the scattering field passes.  It’s getting dark, and Doctor Nelli reported fewer Solusians to the north.  If we look for shelter that way–“

“Oh no,” Dolan spat.

“What’s wrong?” Kellin anxiously asked.

“You’re using that voice,” Dolan said.

“What voice?” Kellin asked.  He flicked his head to the left, trying to whip the wet fringe out of his eyes.

“You’re pretending everything is normal,” Dolan insisted, feeling patronised by the behaviour.  “We’re stranded and you don’t want us to worry so that you can do all the worrying yourself.”

Scoffing, Addae looked Dolan in the eyes and said, “That’s a lot of emotion over some bravado.”

Kellin slapped a hand on his hip holster and growled, “Dammit!”  He snapped his head in Dolan’s direction, his grey eyes wide.  Dolan expected escalating heat, and maybe some anger, but Kellin deflated when he spoke.

“You don’t know me like that, ensign.”

Dolan crossed his arms over his chest.  

“I knew someone very much like you,” Dolan remarked.

“Not that much like me,” Kellin said as he marched away.  “I was never going to date you.”