Despite his huge bulk Aramook moved with the dextrous hands of a surgeon, his meaty hands dancing nimbly across the prone body of Ole as he muttered words to himself in an unfamiliar language. Eventually his whispering stopped as he examined the growing metallic substance on the crewman’s chest, his tough brow furrowing as he watched is swell and recede alongside the Bolian’s breathing. 

“And you say there’s been no change at all? It just stopped?” Aramook enquired, his focus still locked on the unconscious mass on the table. 

“Essentially, once Ole was out it slowed dramatically.” Malax watched the man intently, he had met many medical professionals from a wide variety of races but the thought of an ex-borg Hirogen medic, seemed incongruous at best. 

“Interesting. And it hasn’t attempted to infiltrate his nervous or endocrine systems?”

“It hasn’t tried to assimilate him if that’s what you mean?” They had asked the ex-borg to Daedalus to consult on the mystery attacker. The man had spent the last 10 minutes asking questions and giving nothing away. “It has made some probing motions into his blood stream but I believe them to be investigative rather than pathfinding.”

“Might I ask why Doctor?” Aramook’s metallic clad hand rose to his face and began stroking the bumpy scales that sat prominently on his cheek bones. 

“The nano-bots have never left any remnants, nor have they attempted to infiltrate Ole’s body in any aggressive way. The most aggressive thing it did… was latch on to him in the first place.” Malax was usually above pettiness, but the tall visitor was rubbing him the wrong way. “Which happened whilst he was repairing your ship by the way.”

“A task for which the Unimatrix is grateful, whether or not we were in unison about accepting the officer in the first place” Aramook attempted a polite smile. It didn’t convince anyone in the room. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Starfleet offers of help. They always come with a condition. No doubt you want to know the secrets of the Borg!” 

“We’d settle for our crew-man back first.” Tanek announced from the doorway. He crossed the small sickbay, exchanging a nod with Malax who moved to the end of the bed to give the captain room as he strode confidently past the security officers flanking the doorway. “I presume you know what this is?” 

“Captain, I’m glad you could join us.” Aramook turned to the older man, raising his arms in mock salute. 

“My apologies. I was in a meeting.”

“Then your Starfleet superiors are aware of our presence?” the Hirogen raised a scaley eyebrow as he began examining the latest scan data from their patient. “I presume they have instructed you to secure us?” He turned the padd towards Malax, offering the scan data to the Denobulan. “Have you noticed the interlink frequency being used by the nanoprobes? These do not bear the normal markers of Borg signals.”

“No, I haven’t noticed…”

“We refused to be prisoners to the Borg, we have not risked everything to become prisoners of Starfleet.” Aramook handed the padd off to the doctor as he returned his full focus to the Captain. “I have no interest in being an experiment.” His lips tightened as a distasteful thought touched his tongue. “Or an example.”

“We have no wish to make you prisoners.” Tanek felt his shoulders tighten, he’d stared down warlords and madmen. Nothing compared to this moment, despite being aboard his own vessel and reinforced by a half dozen other officers, he felt entirely at a disadvantage. 

“So it will be an example?” Aramook whispered. Tanek felt the hard stare of the man boring into his skull. “You may find that repeated bursts of high frequency energy will disrupt the interlink long enough to cause it to lose cohesion.”

“Sorry?” Malax darted his head between the two men.

“Pulses of high intensity microwaves may disrupt the nanobots long enough to remove them the body. You can then transport them to isolation.” Aramook typed into the console blindly. “This should be an appropriate frequency.” Malax nodded, surprise spreading across his face whilst he rushed to the nearby tool station. 

“I must confess, I don’t know what you mean by an example.” Tanek steadied himself with a hand on the edge of the bed, hoping his opposition didn’t notice the moment of weakness. 

“We are aware of the Federation’s recent losses to the Borg remnant. In the absence of a being to stand trial we would make excellent target to channel the Federation’s grief.”

Malax returned to the table with a small box, placing it down delicately on Ole’s chest. “I’m ready.”

“Then begin Doctor.” Tanek instructed. After a hesitant pause the tiny machine began to whir. “That is not the Federation’s aim. We are not a people who seek retribution.” 

“Starfleet may feel differently.” Aramook hissed through a locked jaw.

“Starfleet follows the directives of the Federation. I have been instructed to extend you every diplomatic courtesy.” 

“You would never make peace with the Borg, even the great Federation cannot forgive such terrible monsters.” the tension in Aramook’s jaw was becoming noticeable in his brow and neck where his muscles flexed. 

“We already have! The Jurati Collective, the xBs, the Synths!” Tanek exclaimed, raising his hands to the air in exasperation. “Don’t forget we’ve forgiven every major enemy we’ve ever had. The Klingons are our closest allies despite the fact a quasi-holy war almost eliminated the Federation from the quadrant. We were ready to provide fleets of vessels to aid the Romulans, even though they have shown nothing but hate for us since the first day we met. The Cardassians, known slavers and perpetrators of a litany of crimes against sentient beings have been receiving Federation aid for over a decade. We even let the Dominion return to the Gamma Quadrant after the deadliest war we’d ever experienced.”

“You don’t sound happy about that Captain.”

“I’m not!” 

The sound of Tanek’s ragged breaths, in sharp counterpoint to the humming machine, flooded the sickbay. 

“Then you will understand why we do not wish to become Starfleet’s… guests. Accountable for the many horrors of the collective.” Aramook’s body appeared tense, fixed to deck whilst his fingers gripped the side of the bed. “Forgiven or otherwise.”

Tanek took a long breath, his own muscles tense with a newly realised anger. “You would not be held accountable for the actions of the Borg Queen on Frontier Day.”

Aramook spat through his clenched teeth, a pool of blood falling onto the deck beside him. “That mongrel was not the Borg Queen. She was a ancient, wounded animal, driven to madness through the fury of a billion dying voices.” A trail of blood began to fall from his nose as his fingers tightened on the bed frame, the metal beginning to bend under his grip. “She was not the voice of the collective.”

“Then there is another queen out there?” Tanek raced back to the edge of the bed panicked, command’s worst fears might be correct and these signals could be a trap. Looking up, his gaze the one bloodshot eye of the giant Hirogen. A primal wave of panic spreading across his body as the vision of the drone Aramook had once been appeared before him; looming, angry, one furious red eye as the other stared lifelessly from its socket. 

The small machine stopped whirring as with a few quick key presses Malax engaged the transporters and with the tinkling of wind chimes removed the squirming grey mass from Oles body. Aramook stumbled at the edge of bed and fell to one knee as the white glow of the transporter faded away. As Malax rushed to his side, pulling a tricorder from his belt, as he chided himself. “Should’ve known the microwaves would affect you too. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Your Captain ordered you to begin.” Aramook muttered through a grimace. “My safety was not on his agenda.”

“I don’t think that’s fair Aramook, I should have realised.” Malax continued to chide himself as he helped the man to stand again, offering a wipe for the blood on his face.  

“The Federation is not ready to receive us Captain.” He wiped the blood from his lip. “Whatever your intentions may be.”

A sickly silence spread through the room as Malax continued to admonish himself, his fingers entering commands on the console as he ran a new set of scans on Ole. 

“Maybe we’re not ready.” Tanek let out his first breath in several long seconds. “And yes, a large part of our interest is strategic. You possess a wealth of knowledge, not only of the Borg but of the galaxy in general!” 

“I’m glad to see we’re being honest now.” Aramook returned to the table, casting a glance to the Denobulan doctor who nodded his thanks for the assistance. Ole’s vital signs were stable and showed no sign of nanoprobes.

“If you don’t want to be friends then perhaps a trade?”

A scaled eyebrow raised Aramook drew himself to his full height. “You have provided us aid in repairing the Sphere.” He looked down to the unconscious body on the biobed. “And risked your lives in doing so. I suppose you deserve something in return.”

“The Queen. Where is she? Are the signals her trap?” Tanek chose his words carefully, acutely aware that a bridge may have already been burned through the Hirogen’s particular lense. 

Aramook ran his tongue across his lip, removing the last of the blood that sat on it. “There is no longer a Borg Queen. The collective have no need of a queen. They have adapted.”