“Pass me that anesthizine!” Doctor Malax shouted, waving his free hand towards the small trolley where rows of coloured vials stood waiting, his other arm pressed tightly against the chest of the writhing Bolian on the biobed “Quickly!”

The nurse raced across the small sickbay to the trolley, expert hands quickly slotting the orange vial into the base of the hypospray as the sound of wrestling continued in the background. With two strides he had returned to the bed side and held it above the flailing paitent. “Dosage?”

Looking up from his almost prone position atop the giant Bolian’s shoulders “Just get it in him!” Malax shouted, confident of his nurses’ medical knowledge. The familiar sound of a hiss followed moments later and the strength of the sturdy crewman waned. As the physical struggle began to settle, Malax climbed off the gigantic security officer and began entering a sequence of commands at the edge of the bed, his eyes flitting between the small screen and the growing metal invader spreading across Ole’s chest. “Start prepping a nanobot treatment, and we’ll need Cortolin and Alysine in case it starts trying to delve further into his lungs.”

As the nurse nodded, moving to the small lab station in the corner the main double doors slid open as the footfalls of Captain Tanek raced in ahead of his body. “Doctor?”

Malax held up a single arm. “Wait there please Captain.” With a flurry of button presses he turned away from the bed and walked towards the waiting Tanek, his worried heartbeat audible to all in the room. As he crossed the threshold from the surgical bay the quiet buzz of an isolation forcefield slipped into existence, the familiar blue light rippling across the curved deck plates. “It’s not great, i’ll be honest.” The two Denobulans fell into quiet whispers despite the mostly empty sickbay, only the unconscious body of Rana lay silently in the far bed; it always felt more appropriate to speak of ill tidings in hushed tones.  

“Is it Borg?” Tanek lent in, his skin turning a deep shade of concern. 

“It appears so, but something is different.” Malax sighed. “It’s not like the Borg we know.” Despite having spent several days pouring through the limited research from Starfleet Medical in preparation for this mission Malax was at a loss. Every record indicated that Borg technology moved methodically, systematically and consumed completely, the concept of total and unfailing unity was the pillar that supported the collective, from their tinniest machines to their grandest. 

“Malax, please don’t say we’re dealing with some sort of… uber-Borg.” Tanak thumbed the hem of his uniform nervously. There were whispers that Enterprise had faced some sort of super-cube over Jupiter, that it housed a deranged queen bent on the destruction of humanity. “We’re not all legends here. I am most certainly not Picard.” 

“No. There’s something about the hair.” The two men shared a quiet chuckle, both making a grasp for fresh air in a sea of problems. 

Malax motioned to a small monitoring station, resuming hushed discussions. “The nanobots seem to be operating with less directive. They seem sort of… ” Malax tightened his lips as he searched for the words, “… odd?”

“How can a nanobot be odd?”

“We believe the basest Borg command is to assimilate, aquire resources and then rejoin the collective at large. that assumption has formed our entire understanding of the collective and their technology.” Malak motioned to the bed where the giant Bolian lay unconcious, the unwelcome metallic chest plate shifting back and forth. “These ones appear to be content waiting, they keep probing the young man’s body, testing the waters, but they haven’t begun any sort of assimilation process.” Tanek raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Odd.”

The two men stood in silence for several moments, the sound of Ole’s shallow breathing lolling across the sickbay. “We’re a bit out of our depth here, aren’t we?”

“Honestly Captain?” Malax turned to the older man. “I have no idea what we’re dealing with.” The doctor took a breath, he had been mustering the courage to make his request ever since summoning the Captain to Sickbay. He pressed a control on the console and presented the image of the Sphere, supposedly named Exodus by its few remaining inhabitants. “But I’m pretty sure there are people over there that do.”

“You have a bay full of drones?” Rana still stood aghast at the round doorway to the hibernating hive. 

“They aren’t just drones Rana, they’re victims just like you and me.” Brynn waved his hand across a console and rows of dim lights began to illuminate along the long bay. 

“Why are they regenerating? Why do they still seem completely assimilated?” Rana slowly padded down the rows of expressionless faces, like statues of saints in a long abandoned monastery, her telepathic footfalls casting no sound. 

“I… I… I’ve been collecting them.” Brynn stuttered a confession. 

Silent reproach filled Rana’s eyes as she looked back towards the man. Where once he had seemed cool and collected he now stood in fear, his long arms hung loose at his side, sinking lower than his hips due to the slumping of his shoulders. All at once he looked suddenly like a panicked child. “From where?” Her cool tone masked a growing excitement mixed with fear, opportunities to investigate the Borg this closely were rare. 

“All over. When Janeway delivered the nano virus it freed us to continue our dream in the waking world. When she released the neurolytic pathogen it gave us the freedom to make those dreams a reality.” Brynn gently stroked the face of a sleeping drone. “Janeway was our saviour twice over it seems.” Brynn smiled as he stared, eyes wide. “We should make her a statue in our new kingdom.”

“You’re not making sense Brynn.” She crossed over the bay and pulled him away from the alcove. “What are you talking about?”

“This…” Brynn waved his arm to the bay, his eyes aflame with hope. “Can be the new unimatrix, each of them has the mutation that will allow them to join the collective construct.” He began racing through the bay turning to each sedate drone in turn. “They’re already subconsciously forming a shared consciousness. The tea ceremony, the rave, the beach. They are all their memories, slowly starting to spread between a new hive mind.”

“The beacon.” Rana whispered, a realisation running down her spine and cooling her belly.

“Yes, we’re using it as a make-shift vinculum.” Brynn continued examining his hidden flock. “I believe it was those adaptations that reached out and touched your mind.”

“What of the others? Aramook and Kayax? Do they know about this new Unimatrix?” Rana felt disgust at the thought of these hidden drones but it struggled against an unexpected swell of excitement. 

“No.” He turned to Rana sharply. “They wouldn’t understand.” He bowed his head like a scolded child. “They think we should end the Unimatrix, let it pass away with us. They say I would be forcing these beings into another servitude.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “They would have us all be alone again.”

Rana raced across the room, cupping his cheeks in her hands as she was overwhelmed by a desire to help this poor, lonely boy. “What do you need from me?”

“I just need you Rana, your mind. I would make you a mother to this collective, a guiding force to mould and the nurture this newborn society.” Brynn reached up and took her hands in his. “I would make you the queen of this new family.”