The Enterprise
-i-
“OH, SHIT,” SAID LEYBENZON, AND THEN LOUDER, “Commander! Hot contact on long-range scanners! Two vessels bearing down, moving at warp nine!”
“What sort of vessels?” asked Kadohata, getting to her feet and crossing to tactical. “Hostile?”
“I don’t know. Readings are all over the place. They have the ion signature of starships, but I’m getting biologic readings that are consistent with a Borg cube.”
“Go to Red Alert,” snapped Kadohata. “Man battle stations.” Without thinking, and for the first time since she had assumed command, Kadohata went to the command chair and sat in it. She leaned forward, gripping the armrests.
The doomsday machine continued to hang dead in space, and Kadohata cursed Picard for getting them into this situation in the first place. If they’d headed back to Earth, at least they’d have other Starfleet vessels backing them up. Granted, it might not do them any good, but it would have been far preferable to the sense of solitude they currently had.
Space twisted and warped directly in front of them, and two ships dropped out of warp space. “Are those…starships?” Kadohata asked in confusion. “What are those?”
“They were starships,” Stephens spoke up. “Now they’re Borg ships. Look at them; it’s obvious.”
Leybenzon realized that Stephens was right. They were not only Borg ships, but they looked far more formidable than typical starships. The tactical readouts of the ships’ weaponry indicated that one of them could annihilate the Enterprise unless the Enterprise was extremely lucky. Two of them dropped the odds of survival nearly to zero.
Then Leybenzon was surprised to see a telltale light blinking on his board. “They’re hailing us,” he said, unable to keep the astonishment from his voice. The vessels had arrived weapons hot and seemed ready to open fire the instant they’d targeted the ship. Now they wanted to talk? They were Borg. What the hell could they possibly want to talk about?
“Put them on,” said Kadohata.
The screen shifted and the image of a Borg appeared on the screen. He appeared to have been Asian in his previous existence, but now he—
“No, no,” Kadohata whispered. “I know him. That’s Captain Matsuda of the Thunderchild.”
The Borg drone did not appear to register what she had just said. Instead he said in that flat, emotionless voice that the Borg typically displayed, “I am Nine of Eighteen. You will produce the units Picard and Seven of Nine.”
“This is Commander Miranda Kadohata of the Enterprise. We will produce neither Picard nor Seven of Nine until you make clear your intentions.”
“They’re firing!” Leybenzon had barely enough time to shout out a warning before a blast from the nearer Borg starship hammered across the Enterprise’s bow. The vessel shook as if a cosmic hammer had just leaped into existence and slammed across the saucer section.
Leybenzon couldn’t believe it. A single shot had already knocked down shield capacity by 30 percent. What in heaven’s name had been done to those ships? What sort of weaponry were they packing?
The former Captain Matsuda gazed at them blandly from the screen. “That should clarify our intentions. Produce Picard and Seven of Nine immediately.”
“Borg vessel, stand by,” said Kadohata, and the screen blinked out. She turned to Leybenzon. “Get the captain. Get the whole damned command staff up here, now.”
“Commander,” Leybenzon protested, “I don’t—”
Kadohata didn’t bother listening to what else he had to say. “Bridge to security!”
“Security, Meyers here.”
“Release Captain Picard and the rest of the command staff. Ask…tell Captain Picard to report to the bridge immediately.”
Meyers hesitated only a moment. “Aye, Commander.”
Kadohata tilted her head back and met Leybenzon’s angry gaze. “Don’t say it, Lieutenant.”
His jaw twitched, for he was indeed aching to say everything that was on his mind. Instead, with considerable effort, he kept it to himself.
-ii-
Hearing the Red Alert klaxon sounding, T’Lana was heading as quickly as she could toward the turbolift that would take her to the bridge. Just as she arrived, she heard a voice behind her call out, “Hold the lift.”
She couldn’t quite believe what she had just heard.
She turned and saw, to her shock, Jean-Luc Picard and Worf striding toward her. A security guard was following them, but he looked a bit confused, as if uncertain what he was doing there or what had just happened. It was Picard who had snapped out the order to her. T’Lana, who had already stepped into the lift, stood there frozen, making sure to keep it where it was. Worf and Picard stepped in and Picard said, “Bridge.” As the doors slid closed, he turned to her and said as casually as if nothing had happened, “You were heading to the bridge, I take it?”
T’Lana nodded numbly. She was all too aware of Worf standing less than a meter away, glowering at her.
“This is…awkward,” she said slowly.
“Really. I assume your extensive training in counseling informs you of that?”
“Captain—”
“I suggest whatever it is you’re thinking, Counselor, you break a lifetime of habit and—at least for the time being—keep it to yourself. Do I make myself clear?” When T’Lana didn’t reply immediately, Picard turned a blistering stare upon her and repeated, “Do I make myself clear?”
“My apologies,” T’Lana said slowly. “I had assumed the statement was rhetorical. Yes, Captain, you make yourself clear.”
“Excellent.”
The doors slid open and Picard stepped out onto the bridge. Kadohata was at the ops station, keeping her distance from the command chair. Picard strode straight toward it as if it was where he was supposed to be by divine right. T’Lana remained in the turbolift for a moment, trying to comprehend what had just happened, and then she heard Worf’s low voice near her ear.
“Fool me once…” Worf then moved past her. He bumped her aside as he did so, his right shoulder colliding with her upper arm. She had the very strong suspicion it was not an accident. She rubbed herself where he’d struck her but remained, as ever, stoic.
“Status report,” Picard said briskly.
Leybenzon hesitated, and Picard turned toward him. “I am not accustomed to repeating myself, Lieutenant,” he said.
Shaking off his momentary paralysis, Leybenzon cleared his throat and said, “Two starships that appear to have been…assimilated by the Borg. Approximately four times larger than standard starships, with proportionately more formidable weapons array. We’ve taken one hit already that knocked shields down to seventy percent. Engineering is endeavoring to restore them to full power, but it is doubtful shields can be maintained in the face of further attacks.”
“Can we outrun them?”
“Unlikely. They were moving at warp nine when they arrived, and—it’s only a guess—but I suspect they could probably move even faster. We are in communication with them at the moment. They have demanded to see both you and Seven of Nine.”
Picard considered his options for a moment. There did not appear to be an abundance of them. “Put them on screen,” he said.
“I’m reasonably sure,” Kadohata spoke up, “that the Borg speaking on their behalf is…was…Captain Matsuda.”
“Of the Thunderchild? Damn,” Picard said under his breath.
T’Lana felt that she was witnessing a phenomenal display of emotional control. Here was Picard, whose authority had been usurped by the very people to whom he was now issuing orders. She knew that Leybenzon was steaming over at tactical, but even he was falling into old patterns of obedience.
She was also aware that Worf hadn’t taken his eyes off her. What did he think, that she was going to attack him for no reason? Then it occurred to her that, as far as Worf was concerned, he’d already been attacked for no reason. He simply did not see Picard’s insubordination and refusal to obey direct orders from Starfleet as a reason for an assault. To him, it was all terribly arbitrary, and his guard was going to be up for the foreseeable future. She supposed she could understand his thought process, even if she thought it was a bit narrow-minded.
The image of the being who’d identified himself as Nine of Eighteen appeared on the screen. If Picard was taken aback by what he saw, he did a superb job of hiding it.
“Locutus of Borg,” said Nine of Eighteen.
“Not anymore,” replied Picard. “Not ever again.”
“You are wrong. You will be assimilated.”
“You are wrong. We will defeat you, as we always have and always will.”
“We have evolved. We are Borg. You will be assimilated. Show us Seven of Nine.”
“No.” Picard gave no indication that he couldn’t do so even if he wanted to, that she was aboard the doomsday machine.
“You will show her to us. You will both return to the Borg.”
“You can return to the Borg cube and let them know that you have failed in your attempt. Neither Seven nor I will turn ourselves over to you.”
“Your resistance is not only futile, but foolish. Surrendering to us is your only chance to save your vessel.”
“If I believed that, I would do so in a heartbeat,” replied Picard. “But I do not think for a moment that you intend to do anything other than try to assimilate everyone and anyone who is in your way.”
He is stalling for time. He is waiting for La Forge, Seven, and the ambassador to pull some sort of miracle from the depths of the planet killer. The realization went through T’Lana’s head and she wondered just how long he could possibly keep Nine of Eighteen talking. Considering that the planet killer was still showing no signs of life, but instead was hanging there in space displaying all the activity of a dead moon, she didn’t think it was going to be long enough.
“The queen does not desire your destruction,” said Nine.
“Then you would appear to have your hands tied.”
“No,” said Nine. “She does not desire your destruction…but she does not desire your freedom even more. If you will not be assimilated…you will die.”
“Their phasers are locking on!” shouted Leybenzon.
“Evasive maneuvers!” called Picard. “Target the saucer section of both vessels and open fire!”