The landing bay aboard the Borg Sphere was little more than a large metallic platform, stretching out from the creaking bones of the vessel, its jagged edge open to the vast central core. A sea of darkness swallowed what little light dared to creep over the sharp boundary of the make-shift pad into the expansive bay, the bottomless shadows undulating with the ominous, omnipresent clicking of distant machinery. At the far side, several hundred meters from the pad, a sharp beam of light cut into the umbral ocean, as the broken iris doors that led to the unforgiving emptiness of space unsuccessfully blotted out the nearby binary star system. The ray of sunlight creeped across the dark expanse of the sphere like a divine searchlight, dragging itself across the bulkheads as the sphere rolled and listed in the solar eddies of the young star system. As it crossed the obsidian hull it scanned across the innards of the supposedly dying sphere, a twisted duranium rib that had once supported a sensor matrix; a sparking distribution node, snakes of cable flailing medusa-like as they snapped with electricity; a frozen bank of drones still in their alcoves, bisected at the waist by a shard of damaged bulkhead, their silently sleeping faces fixed at rest for all eternity. 

“So, there is a whole big bay of drones?” Hermira’s vice like grip on her rifle was getting tighter.

“It appears so.” Maine replied, his attention fixed on the figure of Commander Dil across the small landing bay as he muttered a briefing to the Captain over secure comms. 

“And they’re still active?” Hermira fought the impulse to pace. 

“Enough. They’re in a sort of hibernation.” 

“And they lied to us about the transwarp drive.” She could almost feel the rifle’s metal casing beginning to bend under her nervous clutching. 

“Tricorder scans indicate it is undamaged.” said Zaya, taking a sip from a canteen as she continued to review the data on the small padd in her other hand. “That doesn’t mean they were lying.”

“They told us it was broken.” Maine turned to look at the tall Cardassian, her calm was frustrating. “You can see for yourself it’s perfectly fine and there’s a massive dampening field hidden in the fake radiation. If they lied to us about their engine capability who knows what else they’re lying about.” He stood from the crate he had been leaning on and crossed to Zaya, poking a long bony finger in her direction. “Plus there’s that thing that attacked Ole.”

Zaya’s eyebrows flared with a warning to Maine as she glanced to Hermira. The young woman had a sisterly bond with Ole, earned through years of dangerous, death-defying missions, each time their teamwork had helped them ford through the danger to the other side. That she wasn’t by his side now at his hour of need weighed heavily on her soul. 

“Who is fine. I’m sure.” Maine hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m just saying… We should assume everything they said was false until we confirm it ourselves.”

“Which is exactly what the Captain said.” Dil sighed as he rejoined the group, a hand reaching up to his weary temples. Hermira jumped to speak but the young Commander held up a hand before she had taken a breath. “Ole is fine. Aramook was good to his word and helped remove the rogue nanobots.” The young woman let the rifle swing to her side as the tension in her shoulders partially slipped away. “He agrees that we need to establish the truth of what’s going on. Daedalus’ advanced sensor suite is the only way to do that.” Reaching into the case he picked up another rifle and began priming it. “We need to deactivate the dampening field.”

“That’s tied into the beacon. Oyvo said that Brynn was acutely defensive about it.” Zaya placed the padd down on the crate. For Dil to consider such an avenue was concerning, doubly so that is was approved by the eternally-diplomatic Captain Tanek. 

“They can explain once we have more the truth. Gear up.” Dil instructed, the visage of XO falling across his face. 

As Maine and Hermira moved away to collect their equipment Zaya closed in to Dil, the Commander was far from the most accomplished on a long list of liars Zaya had seen. “There’s more isn’t there?”

Dil narrowed his eyes as he left out a frustrated snort of air, Zaya was frustratingly observant. “Apparently Aramook said that the Borg Collective has adapted. That they’re operating without a queen. Frontier day was a rogue, the real Collective is very-much still out there.” He swallowed painfully at the words. “And growing.”

“And we trust that?” Zaya whispered, the implications of a queen-less collective were staggering, a true hive mind reaching out across the stars. 

The click of cartridges priming into phaser rifles filled the silence of Dil’s absent answer.

Malax could see the Captain through the partially opaque glass of his medical office as the older Denobulan paced across the small room, his conversation with Starfleet Command audible only to the lush ferns hanging above the Doctor’s desk. The young doctor hovered at the central console, barely reading the latest round of scans as one eye remained fixed on the hulking Hirogen that worked stoically at the side of the biobed. The captain had been using his office for almost 20 minutes since his conversation with Commander Dil aboard the Sphere, the silence in the sickbay was been almost overwhelming.

“Did you mean what you said?” Malax felt the words fall out of his nervously dry mouth like a terrified child. 

“Regarding what, Doctor?” Aramook’s attention did not waver from the bed where he watched Ole’s unconscious body for remnants of his recently removed attacker. 

“The Collective. That they’re still out there.” Malax felt like he was swallowing dust. “Queenless.”

“I did indeed.” The man turned his head to the Doctor. “I do not lie Malax, a symptom of the sharing.” He tapped the scaley temples of his head, indicating the neural transceiver array that lay beneath it. “In the Unimatrix there is honesty.”

“You can read each other’s minds?” The scientist within Malax began to stir at the opportunity to explore the still nebulous subject of Borg technology. 

“Not entirely. We understand privacy, not everything is to be shared.” Aramook tilted his head as his hands stopped on the console, attempting to portray in words the ineffable nature of the Unimatrix’s shared consciousness. “But it doesn’t work like a conversation, we don’t tell each other things. We offer them and know them simultaneously.” Aramook looked to the doctor, his brow furrowing even further as he reached for metaphors. “It is hard to convince someone the ice-cream is strawberry when they taste chocolate on the tongue.” 

“Ice-Cream?” Malax felt his long eyebrows jump in surprise. 

“Lieutenant Craigson. She served on a deep space explorer that encountered a probe in sector 257892, she loved Vanilla ice cream from a place called…” The tall Hirogen licked his lips as his eyes searched through the memory. “… Cornwall.” A long silence returned to the bay as the man enjoyed the treasured memory, shared with him many years ago by the newly emancipated woman. 

“It must be refreshing, to know that you can trust one another completely.” Malax smiled, breaking the man’s reverie. 

“You cannot trust your comrades?” Aramook’s face returned to its chiselled stoicism.

“I trust them.” He cast a glance to the Captain, his conversation appeared grave as the veteran man rubbed his chin, the perpetual positive visage dripping away like ice in the fireplace. “But people lie to protect and to keep people safe.” He saw the last remnant of the Captain’s cheer fall away. “For the greater good.”

“We seek the safety of the Unimatrix at all times. I don’t see how any lie would further that goal.”

“A terribly wounded person is on your table. They are completely beyond your ability to save, and they ask you if they will survive.” Malax stepped round the console to join the man at the bedside, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Would a kind lie not be for the greater good?”

“If the truth can give them a chance to greet death with honour then the lie is a disservice.” Aramook turned to the young doctor, leaning on the small bedside console, it groaned slightly under his massive bulk. 

“You sound like a Klingon.” Malax smiled. 

“Ag’nat, son of Greysh. I remember the pride on his father’s face when he received his updated commission in the Great Hall. A son standing where he had presumed a daughter.” he tapped his cranium once again.

The two men shared a smile. “Maybe there is something to be said for complete honesty.” Malax turned to resume his scans. “I’ve heard of this Romulan order…”

A chilling siren interrupted the doctors train of thought as streams of red light began to pour out of the wall panels, screens across the sickbay began to illuminate with the words Red Alert. Tanek was already stepping from the office as Malax turned to look at him. 

“Tanek to Bridge. What’s happening?”

“The sphere is powering up, we are reading massive energy buildup across its systems.”

All eyes turned to Aramook, who was bent over the bio-bed, a thin line of blood beginning to creep from his ears. 

“Captain, they have gone to warp.”

The Hirogen turned his face to the room, ragged breaths scratching across the assembled ears as he clutched his head with a hand, Malax felt his stomach turn. The previously stoic face of Aramook, calm and confident; now presented a vision of a betrayed child, wide eyes of disbelief framed by sagging cheeks. 

“Brynn has lied to us. He has lied to us all.”