Engineering aboard CR-718 had grown quiet once more after Brek’s revelation of a massive solar flare aimed right at the station. There just wasn’t anything to say as Brek consulted what systems he could access, or while both Mitchell and Gantzmann made final preparations for the planned assault against the drone hiding in the computer core.

“Ah, now I understand,” Brek announced, breaking the silence as he brought up a system status monitor on the display in front of him. He waited long enough to let the rest of the hazard team assemble around him before he continued, pointing at the single relevant datum. It took a moment, Vulcan patience being tested, before Rosa leaned forward to inspect the number as if nearness brought clarity.

“Subspace signal flux,” she said. “Wait, isn’t this just the array sending a test signal from one end of the arrays to the other via subspace?”

“Yes. It’s a low power signal used to help calibrate the array’s transmissions to account for interference from the system primary during periods of heightened stellar activity.”

“Well, doesn’t matter if it’s low power or high power, it keeps rising like this, this station isn’t going to be saying boo to the rest of the galaxy shortly.” Rosa stood up straight, smiling as she turned to face the others. “They found a way to jam the single largest subspace transmitter for, what, five light years?”

“Twelve point seven,” Brek corrected. “That and the flare directed directly at the station will shortly trigger an automatic shutdown via protection protocols designed to protect the arrays as best as possible from magnetic flux.”

“Couldn’t the drone attempt some sort of override?” Mitchell asked. “And use something like what it’s using to power the shields to power the arrays and keep communicating?”

“The latter is a possibility,” Brek conceded. “But an override would require the drone to depart the computer core to enact.” A few key taps, the status monitor dismissed in favour of a system diagram of the entire station. “The array protections are hardware-based and an original feature of the station. They aren’t connected to the main computer except for reporting purposes.”

“So it’s either got to come out to make some changes, or sit and wait for things to settle.” Amber’s statement was punctuated by kicking the blasted remains of one of the many service bots littering Engineering. “Since it’s got no minions anymore.”

There was a clang behind Silver Team as a tool was set down and all of them turned to face Adelinde Gantzmann. She had abandoned her phaser rifle on a bench while making her own preparations for their so far unplanned assault on the Borg drone. Preparations that were now very much complete as she lifted the makeshift spear and examined it. A mop had been beheaded; the spearhead welded to the metal pole. Feed through Lin’s belt hung the recently replicated sword, whose production had resulted in all of the replicators in Engineering being locked down immediately afterwards.

Someone was very much watching what they were doing.

Lin smiled as she tapped the spear’s end against the deck, twisting it slightly to let an overhead light catch the head just right. “This is how we kill the Borg.”

“Uh, no offence ma’am, but didn’t you say it’s shielded? How’s a spear going to help?” Amber’s question carried her confusion well enough.

Lin looked to Brek, tilting her head slightly to tell the Vulcan ‘your question’.

“Because my tricorder bounced off of it,” he dutifully answered. “They aren’t shielded against kinetic attacks.” And then he nodded his head to Lin. “I apologise for not recognising that earlier.”

“Who knew,” Lin said with no small amount of joy in her words, “that taking Professor Parker’s historical combat methods class would be so useful this year.”

Subspace signal flux is degrading communications with Federation networks. Subversion attempts compromised.

Cause of signal flux is tricobalt resin-laced stellar prominence. Starship responsible identified as Atlantis NCC-90562.

Unable to access personnel records to compare with known intelligence of Atlantis NCC-81424.

Unable to increase power to subspace arrays due to safety interlocks. Recommend physical override of array safeties.

Warning! Replicator use detected. Non-standard weapon pattern identified. Lock down replicator sub-system immediately.

Warning! Connection with Collective compromised.

Warning! Unexpected threat vector identified. Attempting to ascertain counter-strategy.

Connection with Collective compromised. Counter-strategy is incomplete.

Require connection with Collective. Require override of sub-space array safeties. Pausing network subversion attempts.

Hostiles aboard the station likely have a viable threat vector. Assimilate if possible, eliminate if required. Continuance of this one and its mission is the priority.

“Uh ma’am, can’t help but notice you’ve got a sword too.” Rosa had fallen into step next to Lin as the troupe walked out of Engineering, bound first once more for the atrium, then to the station’s computer core.

The plan was after all quite simple – cut the door open, find the drone, and stab it till it was dead. A few more mops and other tools had been beheaded, sharpened into makeshift spears themselves, just without the nice and lethal broadhead that Lin’s had. But importantly all of them were long enough to hit the drone and stay out of arm’s reach if possible.

“Yes, I do,” came the larger woman’s response.

“Well, uh, just wondering if perhaps I could have it?” Rosa waited for Lin’s gaze to turn on her. “Doctor Marcus never made our class do a phalanx formation in the quad for the whole academy to see, but she did teach anti-boarding tactics, which meant she had to teach us boarding tactics.”

“Doctor Marcus? Julie Marcus?” Lin shook her head. “If you can’t do, teach.” She stopped just long enough to slip the sword from her belt and hand it over to Rosa. “She’s a third-rate historian and a worse tactician. But she could at least swing a sword.” She sat a hand on Rosa’s shoulder and looked her straight in the eye. “It’s not a boarding axe. It has a tip if you need it. Got for the hands and lower arms first so as to remove assimilation tubules. Got it?”

“Got it,” Rosa answered quickly, properly. Nodded once as well for good measure.

“Good.”

As Lin let her go and continued, it was Amber who stepped into her place, looking Rosa over once. “You haven’t got a chance, so drop it.”

“What?” Rosa spat out.

“Oh please, I know that look.” Amber mocked her with the same expression she’d found on Rosa’s face for a brief moment. “She’s practically married. Now come on, we’ve a Borg to kill and the Federation to save. Big damn heroes.”

“Some more than others,” Rosa grumbled as she chased after the rest of Silver Team.

“Bitch,” Amber shot back.