TWENTY-SIX YEARS AGO 

BEYOND THE EL-ADREL SYSTEM

"Reactor core overloading, sixty-seconds to catastrophic failure."

Considering the warning it was delivering, amidst the screaming of emergency notification systems throughout the cockpit, the computer's voice was rather calm. Of course, the central computer had no emotions to speak of. It could not feel the dire situation closing in on the ship called the Seleya's Heart, it only dealt in the facts of the situation and was indifferent to the fates of its passengers.

Green blood rolled off the edge of the cockpit controls, culminating in pregnant drops that splattered across the floor when it finally landed. They created an odd kind of abstract art against the duranium plating. The source of the blood was an unmoving form, slumped across the controls supported by the seat in front of it. Part of his face was charred almost black and what flesh not seared away by the energy spike that ceased his life functions nearly immediately, was raw and exposed, caked with copper-based blood.

I must not look at him. I must be logical. I must be Vulcan, now more than ever. I must not think of him as my k'hat'n 'dlawa, because at this moment, it means nothing.

The irony was not lost on T'Laren, mate of Svianek. Both had fled to the edge of the world so they could live as they wished, to not be reminded they were considered deviants. Other races lived as they wanted, why was it so wrong to desire the same things? In her heart, she felt the heat of love, lust and happiness and these were not shameful things. Yet, as she looked at him right now, her heart was screaming in anguish, threatening to override all other thoughts and she knew, there was merit in the ways of her people.

She needed focus, needed to forget the pain of his loss for there would be time enough for mourning later. Now, the imperative was to ensure the planet below became a refuge instead of a burial ground. It was little more than a rock, a scab in the wilderness of space, so far away from any civilisation that not even the Romulans, Klingons or the Federation cared for its existence or would fight over it. For two Vulcans who were V'tosh ka'tur, it was perfect.

"Mother."

She spun around in her seat where she had been struggling to fly the ship and saw her son staring at her. Not quite four years old, Svinak stared at her with those blue eyes that were so much like hers, it made T'Laren want to weep. He was small for his age, with long hair that was unruly in comparison to the neat bangs worn by other Vulcan children. Then again, he was not like them by design. He was not conceived from a marriage of arrangement, but one of love. To be together, T'Laren and Svianak had turned their backs on Vulcan law and philosophy, and he was the product of their union.

She had no reason to regret it until now.

The words of her father haunted her, reminding T'Laren the price of their defiance when she and Svianek had turned their back on being Vulcan. Now they were alone, far away from safety and if the worst came to pass, they might be stranded here for all time because they were so far away no one might have heard their distress call.

"What are you doing here? I told you to remain in your seat!"

"But I was afraid," he spoke in that tiny voice, his pouted lips quivering in distress because she was shouting at him. More than anything, T'Laren wanted to go to him, to hold him so he could feel her strength, so he could take comfort in her love. Yet to save his life, she had to be Vulcan, she could not allow herself to feel, or they would both die.

"You have been told to return to your seat," she spoke harshly, not wanting him to enter any further into the cockpit, lest he saw what was left of his father. "What is here is not for you! When it is safe, I will come for you. Do you understand?"

He jumped at her sharp rebuke but nodded somberly before retreating into the next cabin.

T'Laren faced front again, ignoring the agony of his pained expression when he drew away, choosing to focus their approach to the planet beneath them, even as the ship's computer repeated its warning of the warp core breach in the Seleya's Heart.

"Computer," T'Laren spoke, knowing there was only one choice to make. "Eject the warp corp."

"Authorisation required. Please input the command codes."

T'Laren obeyed, keying in the required code as the cockpit around her continued to flash an angry red, screaming its words of doom, in a calm measured voice that infuriated her to no end.

"Warp core ejected."

She saw the warp core tumbling away from the small ship, hoping that it would not be caught by the gravitational field of the planet below. The last thing she wanted was for their arrival at their potential new home to coincide with the wake of an antimatter explosion. In the damaged view screen on the console, the brilliant blue reactor hurtled into the darkness of space before it exploded. The shockwave spread out and slammed into the ship. The force of the blast was so violent, it threw her forward and she felt her skull smash against the console, followed by excruciating pain across her forehead as blood filled her eyes.

Nauseous and dizzy, she wanted to lapse into the darkness beckoning her with all its might to accept its comforting embrace, but she could not. The ship was still in the air, and even though it was mortally wounded, there was one thing left to do before she could surrender to the pain, surrender to the cold tugging at her consciousness.

Before she died, T'Laren had to land this ship so that her little khio'ri would survive. No matter what happened to her, her son had to live.

*k'hat'n 'dlawa 'half of my heart and soul

*khio'ri - Star

"Get us into high orbit now!"

Chris Larabee's words jumped started the stunned bridge crew of the USS Maverick into animation again. For almost a minute following Vin Tanner's shock revelation of their present location, no one could quite believe it. The impossibility of it was too much and everyone, no matter how seasoned they were, were gripped with the same astonishment. Their escape from Fluidic Space had not resulted in getting them home but had instead flung them into the Federation's ancient past.

They weren't even in the Frontier anymore! Somehow, the wormhole twisted into a temporal rift and had emptied them light-years from where they were. Instead of being days away from Deep Space Five, they were now minutes away from the planet Vulcan, deep in the heart of Federation space. There was no sign of the wormhole or singularity, meaning however they got home from this point on, it would have to be by a means they had yet to fully consider.

"On it," Vin who was in better shape to react first, since he was the one who told everyone where they were, quickly tapped the console in front of him, shunting aside the conflicting emotions running through his head at present. There would be time enough to deal with the ramifications of seeing his homeworld under such circumstances. Right now, he had a job to do.

Chris possessed a similar mindset. Being Captain, he connected the dots far more quickly than anyone else on the bridge and knew what had to be done first and foremost. "Ezra, deploy the cloak immediately. We can't let them see us."

"Aye Captain," Ezra Standish, Chief of Security blinked as if the demand was the jolt to the system he needed to resume his unwavering professional mask. It was rare when Ezra showed his emotions and unknown to him, this facade provided a gauge to the rest of his comrades of how much trouble they were in.

"Alex, have they detected us?" Chris demanded as he saw his order to Vin culminating in the Maverick's ascent into the higher altitudes over the planet through the shift of the amber red world in the view screen.

Alexandra Styles did not immediately reply. She was too busy scanning the numerous displays on her science station to produce the data to answer the Captain's question. Her fingers moved across the dark screen with the skill of a pianist about to make a gala performance. When the data appeared before her, giving Alex their report, she raised her eyes to her Captain, who was waiting impatiently for her to speak.

"Not at this time," she answered and saw the relief flooding his face immediately. "This is still well before the age of multiphasic scanning. They're using a mixture of radio and microwave bands transmitted through orbital platforms. If we were visible before your countermeasures, we would have registered as little more than a glitch or an echo."

"Good," Chris nodded, mindful of the thin ice on which they were presently standing. Even the slightest fracture would cause ripples across the timeline that would affect billions.

"Chris, what about the Corrizo?"

Possibly even more than Vin Tanner, Mary Travis, Protocol Officer, recognised the danger to Vulcan. She had been married to one of its most celebrated sons and lived on the planet herself for many years. While their presence here would undoubtedly threaten the timeline, it was nothing like the danger posed by the presence of the Borg if they got loose on the planet. After all, the Maverick had come here in pursuit of the Corrizo, it stood to reason the runabout might have ended up in the same place.

"Jesus," Vin hissed, his gut clenching at how bad things might get at that reminder.

Chris was already there.

"Alex, scan for any Federation warp signatures in the area."

The Captain of the Maverick was already envisioning the worst-case scenario at the Borgs’ reaction to finding themselves at this point in time. At present, the C'Kaia, the race who created the Borg in the first place, were still on their homeworld somewhere in the Delta Quadrant, nursing their grand dreams of galactic domination. They had yet to create the warrior race that would ultimately become the Borg and even so, the threat the Borg posed to the rest of the galaxy would not materialise for another thousand years.

Even if the Corrizo possessed warp capabilities, it would take them seventy-five years at maximum acceleration to cross the distance to reach the Delta Quadrant. When they arrived, they would find no trace of the Collective, just an aggressive insect species who would most likely attack them, then welcome them with open arms. No, it would be more logical to abandon such a fruitless objective, when they had all the tools they needed to begin a new Collective originating in the Alpha Quadrant.

To do that, they would have to land on the planet below and begin assimilating its inhabitants.

"Captain," JD Dunne spoke up from his navigation station. "I've been monitoring the planetary broadcasts to see if there is any local chatter about anyone seeing us and I think we're in the clear."

"That's something," Chris sighed. "At least we haven't violated General Order one."

Yet, he thought silently.

"That is true," Ezra nodded in realisation. "At this point in history Vulcans are still at a pre-warp stage of development are they not?"

"Yes," Mary answered. "We're about a hundred years from the Time of Awakening. They did leave the homeworld at this time, but they didn't get very far."

"They had yet to break the warp barrier," Alex added while continuing to search for the Corrizo, aware next to her at Tactical, Ezra was doing the same thing. "They were still operating on impulse power only. I don't think they got any further than Andoria and perhaps Tellar, and we all know how their first encounter with the Orions ended up."

"Yeah," Chris frowned. It was well known the Orions had landed on Vulcan and took a number of them as slaves, murdering others. The reaction of the Vulcan people to this attack would tear the culture apart. One half would follow the teachings of Surak and begin the journey to the civilisation that would become a cornerstone of the Federation. The other known as 'those who flew under the raptor's wings' would leave Vulcan entirely and become the forebears of the Romulan Star Empire.

"If I recall correctly," Ezra remarked, "they are also relying heavily on atomic power."

"Which means, their weapons will also be nuclear, right?" Chris saw what Ezra was alluding to.

"Unfortunately, yes." Ezra glanced at Vin in sympathy.

"Captain, I have a fix on the Corrizo," Alex announced. "I'm detecting a Federation signal at a location near the Eastern Sea. If these coordinates are correct, this is the same site where the Temple of Amonak will be built."

"Oh," Mary winced, hating that sacred space might be violated by Borg aggression. She thought of the temple sitting at the edge of a cliff, providing visitors with a view of the arid landscape and the too salty Eastern Sea. Mary’s stomach clenched in outrage at the scenery overlaid with Borg technology. The future Temple of Amonak was a sacred site to all Vulcans. While the race still held fast to their philosophy of logic, they did not turn their backs on their past or on Amonak, a place deeply rooted in their history.

For Mary, thinking about the temple brought back painful memories of the time after Syan's death. During the Battle of Sector 001, she had felt him die and went to the temple afterwards, to plead with them to take from her what essence of him they could, so his katra would not be lost. Unfortunately, there had not even been enough for that.

"You know it?" Chris glanced at Mary and saw immediately the sorrow the mention of Amonak surfaced in her mind. Chris knew the look well. How many times had he displayed it when remembering Sarah and Adam? He sometimes forgot he wasn't the only one who was grieving a lost mate when he came on board the Maverick.

"Yes," she nodded. "It's an ancient sacred site. Before we joined the Maverick, Billy and I went there..." she looked away from Chris unable to finish. Even now with how she felt about Chris, Mary still had trouble remembering the dark days following Syan's death, when she felt him not just ripped away from her life but her heart and mind. Their mating bond had made her feel his absence most acutely, and even though she shared some semblance of that connection with Chris, Syan's loss still left a void in her heart.

Chris nodded, giving her a look of complete understanding, considering the baggage he carried with him at the loss of his family. Unfortunately, right now, it was the best he could manage. Their situation, though not immediately urgent, was no less perilous. "The question is, what is it at this point of time?"

"That is difficult to say," Mary who learned everything she could about Vulcan culture so she could be prepared when she became Syan's wife, admitted. "We've arrived before the Time of Awakening, which meant Vulcans at this stage of development have little control over their emotions and are extremely prone to violence. If not for Surak, it was likely they would have destroyed themselves. The records of the period are fragmentary due to the numerous conflicts that resulted. There was no central government, just several regions under the control of warlords and dictators. We have to tread very carefully Chris, any one of them could see us as a threat and attack."

"Doesn't matter, we're still going to have to go down there." While Chris did not dismiss Mary's warning, he knew that was only a minor consideration because the scenario involving the Borg's presence on Vulcan, was much worse.

"Captain," Alex spoke up immediately on the heels of that statement. "We have to be very careful if we go down there. Right now, we have almost no information about Vulcan at this period in their history. Anything we do down there could have serious repercussions on the future."

"If the Borg have transported to Vulcan, then the future is already in jeopardy," Ezra pointed out for more reasons than just wanting to recover Julia. As much as he wanted to go down there and rescue the woman he loved, he knew she would never want him to risk billions to achieve that end. If they proceeded recklessly, it was precisely what would happen. "If Vulcan does not take its place among the stars, then there will be no Federation."

"Shouldn't we already be affected?" JD asked, trying to remember all his studies on temporal mechanics and grimaced at how much it had made his head hurt, even back at the Academy. It was no different now. "I mean if the Borg have gone down there and messed things up, should all this and us be gone?"

"Not necessarily," Chris answered promptly. "The future is not set. There are focal points in history that cannot be changed. We're still here because those moments have yet to be altered and while there is still a possibility of them remaining intact, our timeline might still happen. The Borg may have landed on the planet, but they haven't disrupted any focal points yet."

"They will," Alex threw in her lot with Ezra's concerns. "The Vulcans at present may be primitive by our standards, but they have enough technology at their disposal to be of use to the Borg. Captain, the Collective still have full knowledge of 24th-century technology. All they lack is raw materials."

Chris stiffened at the terminology but knew Alex was absolutely correct. The raw material in this instance was not technology, but people. The Borgs' strength was in numbers, and right now, they were too few to be a real threat. However, if they assimilated new drones and expanded their reach, they had the power to take the entire planet and begin a new Collective in the Alpha Quadrant.

"We gotta go down there," Vin spoke for the first time.

Throughout all the discussions, Vin had been in silent contemplation. From the moment he was returned to Earth without his foster parents, the idea of visiting Vulcan never occurred to him. Among his own people, he always felt outcast because his human parents had moulded him in their own image and that image was an affront to all Vulcans. No matter how human he tried to make himself appear, from the long hair he grew over his ears to hide their points, to the shape of his eyebrows, he could never escape being Vulcan. Now it appeared, he would have to go down there to cement the philosophy that made him a pariah among his people.

"Vin?" Alex looked at her husband and felt the conflict in him touch her mind "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Captain...Chris," he regarded his best friend again. "We have to go down there because if the Vulcans see the Borg as a threat they can't beat using their usual weapons, they're going to try something more extreme. Like Ezra said, if they got nuclear weapons, they're going to use them if they can’t find any other way to defeat the Borg."

HALF A DAY EARLIER

He began as One of Four, but with the change in their circumstances, he was now One of Thirteen, Primary Adjutant of Unimatrix 376.

Escaping from Fluidic Space in the stolen assimilated craft from Species 5618, they had used the knowledge of the Collective to locate the wormholes used by Species 8472 to make their incursions into normal space. Although their superior abilities were able to boost the craft's limited shield capacity, the journey through the vortex had caused significant damage. They emerged through the portal with catastrophic systems failure, with the warp engines offline and the danger of antimatter containment looming large.

Only the knowledge assimilated from Two of Thirteen, the former Chief Engineer of the Federation ship Maverick, was the outright destruction of the craft called the Corrizo prevented. After stabilising the damaged warp reaction long enough to affect a surface landing, One of Thirteen, once called Buck Wilmington, was able to draw upon the skills of his former self, to avoid a crash landing on the homeworld of Species 3259.

Still, upon landing and avoiding a fiery end in their new environment, the voices of their current Collective filled his mind with whispers of confusion and distress. Their chorus of words spoke to him with one unified voice, all having reached the same conclusion. While they had indeed landed on the homeworld of Species 3259, there were vast discrepancies in the geographical and technological data the Borg had accumulated. Species 3259 was one of the most advanced races in the collection of worlds called the Federation and yet the planet, besides its plentiful supply of drones, had little to offer the Collective.

Under any other circumstances, the Borg would not have bothered with them. They were hardly deserving of being granted perfection.

"We require more data," Two of Thirteen stared at him as they occupied the space of what was the Corrizo's cockpit. The others were waiting patiently in their alcoves, ready to receive new data to proceed further. "The navigational charts may be in error."

"We detected a temporal anomaly during our passage through the wormhole," One explained, "it may have altered our point of exit."

"What is our course?" Two inquired. "The vessel will not be capable of returning us to the Collective."

"This planet is populated," One replied having examined the data regarding Species 3259, enough to extrapolate a course of action. "There is sufficient raw materials here for us to construct a new vessel, one that is capable of taking us to a planet with sufficient technology to return us to the Collective."

"We are too few, we require new drones for such an objective."

"We will assimilate as many of the population as we need. In the end, they will exist to service us."

The boy saw the ship land descend from the darkened skies and knew immediately it was not of Vulcan.

He had seen their own ships travelling through the red sky, disappearing into the stratosphere above his home and knew this vessel looked nothing like those. The design was odd, shaped like a varush beetle, with nacelles on either side that glowed with the bluish energy of sapphires glittering in the moonlight. It appeared through the night sky, shrouded in white as it descended before holding position several hundred feet off the ground, like a shavokh trying to decide whether or not it would swoop in for the kill.

When it finally moved again, it glided to the ground, without the clumsiness familiar to all the ships of Clan Phelsh't who controlled this region and its life-giving water springs. The boy watched the vessel touched down against the red sand, its landing struts digging into the ground before its engines died. As lights flickered to a minimum across the pigeon coloured hull, he wondered if this was a ship of the Andor or the Tellar.

His tutor Dalva told him about the worlds beyond Vulcan where other races lived in alien environments far different from their own. The Andor were said to be buried deep beneath the ice, their cities hugging the planetary core for warmth, far from the surface where freezing winds excoriated the great glacial plains like the breath of an ice goddess. In contrast, the Tellar lived on the surface, braving the icy cold of their world by growing fur on their bodies and taking advantage of the natural springs scattered throughout the planet.

The boy wondered which of these races were coming to visit.

He knew he ought not to be distracted from his task of completing the Rite of Tal'oth, but he couldn't help but be fascinated by what he was seeing. For the last three months, he had lived in the wilderness, staying ahead of the lematya and sa-te kru who would be more than happy to make a meal of him. Yet he had managed to evade them, surviving off the land, feeding on the aylak he'd hunted even though he did not like killing the creatures.

He was seventeen years old and on the cusp of adulthood. When he completed his task, he would be seen as a man and earned his place to stand with his father when they greeted the elders in the Great Hall. His father, a general in the service of Shi'Kahr, had told him there was no shame in failing to fulfil the obligations of the Tal'oth but the boy would hear none of it. He loved his father dearly and would not dishonour his family name or that of his clan by failure.

Besides, it was not all perilous. When he found a place that was still and safe for the night's rest, there had been much beauty to witness. He watched a flock of Sundwellers sailing across the amber sky, their great wings flapping like they were charged with providing the wind and breeze that swept across his face. At night, he saw the luminous shattarr lizards scurrying across the ground, leaving trails of colour behind them. In the mornings, he was awakened by the sweet sound of the Lara birds singing their song of mating.

No, even if he could be killed by any predator that happened along, the boy was proud to undertake Tal'oth, if only to learn more about the creatures sharing the world with the Clans. Creatures who had no say in how their homes were destroyed by countless wars and petty squabbles. It gave him an appreciation for his home and strengthen his desire to succeed so he could be considered an equal and be able to protect their land like all members of his clan.

The hydraulic hiss of the main hatch opening interrupted his ruminations about his future and focussed the boy's attention on the ship that had landed a short distance away. From his vantage point in the rocks, overlooking the small plain that provided the alien craft with an excellent landing spot, he watched as bright white light poured out of the open hatch, like a strobe in the darkness. It made him flinch staring at it but also filled him with anticipation at what type of alien would emerge from the ship.

Surely, Surak thought to himself, it must be wondrous.

TWENTY-SIX YEARS AGO

BEYOND THE EL-ADREL SYSTEM

When the Yellow Rose of Texas, the ship affectionately called Rose by its owners, detected a distress signal, it was almost ignored.

Having just left the Sigma Tama system after an extended study of the Tamarians and their culture, the two researchers from the Academy of Science debated whether or not the signal originating beyond the El-Adrel system, was real. Aware the Rose was somewhat antiquated, the duo entertained the idea the message could be the result of a glitch in their communications system. After all, they were as far away from the core systems as they could be and another ship in the vicinity seemed unlikely.

However, if it were not a fake and somewhere out there, someone was in distress, then there was almost no chance anyone would pick up the message, and by ignoring it, they would almost certainly condemn the sender to die.

The space beyond El-Adrel was uncharted. Even the system just departed was one of the most isolated in the Alpha Quadrant with formal relations between the Federation and its natives, the Children of Tama, were yet to be established. A few uncharted systems lay beyond El-Adrel, their existence little more than footnotes in the data transmitted by passing deep space probes on the route out of the galaxy.

Anyone who got lost out here would most likely remain that way for good.

A product of Federation ethics, the husband and wife team was incapable of ignoring a cry for help, even in this distant region of space. Despite their reservations, they directed their decommissioned executive scout ship towards its source. The trip took almost a day. On approach to the world from which the signal originated, the Rose encountered a violent neutronic storm on the cusp of dissipating for good. The damage to the craft was severe but not catastrophic, and the Rose set down on the rocky terrain of the lifeless planet a short time later.

"We made it."

"Barely," Noah Tanner fell against the back of his captain's chair in the Rose's cockpit, letting out a sigh that was part relief and part concern. While he was grateful they landed safely on the surface of this desolate planet, he knew the havoc the storm had played with the warp engines. Under normal circumstances, he would have been able to direct the ship to the nearest Federation starbase and effect repairs, but right now they were almost on the edge of known space and a safe port of call if their engines failed would not be days away, but years.

"We couldn't just ignore it," Imogen Tanner reminded, staring through the cockpit window at the broken wreck of a ship lying a few hundred feet away. Even from here, the couple could see just how terrible the crash had been. The spine of the craft had snapped in half upon landing, and while it appeared intact, it would not take much for it to fall apart. The structural damage was secondary to the carbon scorching across the hull, particularly across the nose of the ship. Seeing the extent of the damage drove home to them both they might have risked their lives to rescue people who were beyond any help.

"No, we couldn't." Noah, a bear of a man who looked more like a wrestler than he did a university professor, had to agree. With deep-set blue eyes and a prominent forehead, his face revealed more empathy then one would imagine he was capable of projecting. He stared through the plexiglass window and scrutinised the ship a little further before reaching a somewhat surprising conclusion.

"It's Vulcan."

"Vulcan?" Imogen or Genie as she was called by her husband, was understandably startled by the revelation before she leaned forward in the co-pilot's seat to take a closer look herself.

"Yeah. D'Vahl class. A survey ship."

"A Vulcan survey ship?" She exclaimed incredulously. "Out here?"

"Don't look at me," Noah shrugged. "I'm as much in the dark as you, but since we came all this way, we better take a look and see if anyone is still alive in there."

"Well our sensors still work," Genie remarked and lowered her gaze to the console in front of her. Tapping the touch screen briefly, her eyes widened by the results that appeared less than a second later. "Noah, I'm reading one life sign, very faint. Vulcan."

"Come on," Noah got to his feet immediately. "I'll grab the medkit. Whoever survived that crash is probably in bad shape. We better get to them before its too late."

Less than twenty minutes later, the couple crossed the rocky terrain separating them from the ruined Vulcan vessel.

Overhead, the twin suns of the system burned hot and though they had opted not to wear enviro suits for the air was breathable, the heat was barely tolerable. Even as they felt the sunshine across their faces, the familiar prickle against their skin indicated prolonged exposure to this harsh climate was dangerous. Studying the parched landscape, there appeared to be no signs of life beyond the single heartbeat inside the doomed survey ship, not even vegetation. It seemed the only crop on this planet was the sharp, brittle rocks covering the terrain.

"My God," Genie gasped as they reached the hull of the ship.

If the damage had seemed extensive from the Rose, up close, it was even worse.

There were rips through the duranium plating, with one wing ripped away entirely from the hull. Debris was scattered across the area, with cracks running across what remained of the windows. Where the main hatch should have been, was a ragged hole. A quick scan of the immediate surroundings revealed the door's presence strewn across the dirt with the rest of the wreckage.

As she raised her tricorder to scan the area, Genie felt encouraged by the continued presence of the life sign and kept walking towards the opening in the starboard side of the craft.

"I think they ran into the storm," Noah commented examining a section of hull closely, his fingers tracing the fractures in the duranium. "You saw what it did to us, and we weren't in it for that long. If they went through the worst of it, that would explain all this."

Genie was more focussed on the tricorder readings leading her through the hull. The signal still continued to pulse faintly, and she worried if they didn't reach the injured crew member quickly, it might blink out of existence altogether. "The life sign readings are coming from the rear of the ship."

"Genie, be careful," Noah warned as he watched her step through the jagged opening. "The only thing holding this ship together is the paint."

Answering him with a wave of acknowledgement, she entered the craft and quickly scanned the ruined interior. The main cabin had been left in the same state of chaos as the rest of the vessel. Equipment and furniture were scattered across the deck, with a couple of seats ripped out entirely. Wires, long drained of energy hung from open panels across the ceiling, with compartment doors hanging precariously off their hinges.

It was only when she approached the largest one, did she hear the crying.

"Noah," she halted her husband about to make his way to the cockpit.

Freezing in his tracks at her urgent tone, he turned to see Genie approaching one of the compartments and upon joining her, realised what captured her attention so completely. She neared the door like someone trying to coax a frightened animal out of its hiding place, and when she swung it open, he realised she had a good reason for such caution.

Huddled in a ball, with his knees pulled close to his chest was a child.

He was no more than four years old. Tiny, with hair grown long unlike most of the Vulcan children they'd encountered, only the tips of his ears poking through his dark brown hair, gave away his heritage. Undoubtedly traumatised by his violent arrival on this world, the child was crouched in his hiding place, hugging his knees with his head down. When he did raise his chin to look up at them, Genie found herself staring into cobalt coloured eyes moist with tears. His bow-shaped mouth was curled into a pout, and when his small frame shook with each sniffle of tears, it tugged at her heart so acutely she thought it might break from the sheer ache of it.

"Hello there," Genie smiled at him. "It's okay, we're not going to hurt you. You're safe now."

She uttered the words as soothingly as she could, thinking he looked like a fairy child, fragile and so very lost. The need to protect him, to take him into her arms and hold him until the horror of what he had seen was chased away, was so fierce she could scarcely believe it was coming from her.

"Hey there buddy," Noah said over her shoulder, not wishing to crowd the child but feeling the same need to take away the pains he saw on that small, frightened face. "You're okay now, we're going to take you away from here. My name is Noah, and this is Genie, we're here to help."

"Please baby," Genie opened her arms, and before she could utter another word, the child launched himself into her embrace, wrapping his small limbs around her neck and clutching her tight. Even as he lay his head on her shoulder and began to weep, Genie knew without ever understanding how; she would never let him go.

VULCAN - NOW

"Captain, I do not believe this is a good idea," Ezra Standish reminded Chris Larabee as the Captain studied his image in the hand-held mirror. Chris was in Sick Bay, trying to wrap his mind around the fact the face staring back at him was his own. It was the ears, Chris decided. The prosthetic tips attached to them to allow him to blend in with the locals on the planet looked damned odd.

Chris lowered the mirror and glared impatiently at Ezra, who had undergone similar adjustments. "Ezra, we've been through this. I'm going down there. Buck is my friend, and I'm not sitting on the sidelines for this one."

"Captain, with all due respect," Ezra stared back at him, not about to be dismissed without being heard. "You are hardly sitting on the sidelines. At present, the ship is in hostile territory, your place is on the bridge."

Alex, who was quietly enduring Nathan's ministrations, brushed a strand of hair from her unaccosted ear and wondered how much more Ezra was going to push this before the Captain's patience reached a breaking point. She had seen them both go toe to toe before, and it was a sight she did not care for. While she understood Ezra's view, more than understood actually, in fact, she shared it, Alex did appreciate the Captain's position too.

Exchanging a knowing glance with Nathan Jackson, who was currently conducting the surgical enhancements on them, the doctor also recognized the signs of impending confrontation. Choosing to intervene before Ezra found himself facing the insurmountable wall of Chris Larabee's will, she gestured at Nathan to pause his work for a second so she could act.

"Ezra, the Captain has made his decision. We should be concentrating on what kind of weapons we need down there."

Ezra shot her a look about to interject but knew if he pressed the point, Alex could mention it was equally unwise to let him participate in the retrieval operations as well. If the Captain was placing himself at risk to rescue Buck, then Ezra was also guilty of the same in his desire to retrieve Julia. By all rights, the emotional conflict of his feelings for the Chief Engineer could be avoided if he directed a security team from his station at tactical, not going after her himself.

"Of course," Ezra nodded, recognizing Alex was trying to keep his discussions with the Captain from escalating into an argument. It took a second for Ezra to collect himself before he could formulate a response. "Their weapons at this time were a mixture of energy-based projectiles. Weapons had to be loaded with energy caps. I have asked Lieutenant Chanu to modify our phasers to resemble weapons of the period, as well as create a setting that will simulate the discharge of their weapons."

"Good," Chris nodded and flashed Alex a look of gratitude for intervening when she did. He knew she probably didn't like the idea of him going down there herself, but Alex understood what Buck meant to him. She knew it would be torture remaining on the bridge while his Senior Staff was on the planet engaging the Borg. "With any luck, we won't interact with the locals at all, and we can deal with the Borg without them ever knowing we were down there."

"According to the maps," Alex spoke as Nathan resumed working on her ears. "The Corrizo was forced to set down in a remote section along the Eastern Sea. There is a settlement some distance away. Judging by the plasma residue in the warp signature of the runabout, the Corrizo didn't come out of the wormhole in good shape. I suspect they were forced to land and therefore if they attempt to make it to the nearest settlement, it will be on foot."

"I would not put anything past the Collective at this point," Ezra was incapable of feeling any optimism after everything they had been through since they sighted the singularity that led to their engagements with the Borg, and subsequently their journey into Fluidic space. While he had recovered enough from Julia's assimilation to remember his responsibilities as Chief of Security, it was difficult to fight his natural cynicism to believe getting her back was within the realm of possibility.

Chris saw through his attempts to remain focused, aware of what was at the heart of his despair. "Ezra, for once we're not entirely disadvantaged. There are no reinforcements they can call on to endanger the ship. If we can get to them quickly, we can prevent them from assimilating anyone else and expanding their numbers. Believe it or not, as messed up as this situation is at the moment, this might actually be the best shot we have of getting our people back."

Chris didn't mention Buck or Julia specifically, but everyone in the room knew he meant no one else.

"How is Vin doing with all this?" Nathan asked wishing to change the subject because tempers and emotions were running hot between the two men, and it was a bad place for them to be before an Away mission into hostile territory.

"He's fine," Alex shrugged, noting the Captain looking up in interest at her answer. "He's managed to avoid Vulcan for most of his life. Thanks to the way he was raised, he's been isolated from them. I don't think he ever expected to come to the planet under these circumstances."

"It bothers him," Chris frowned, able to see that much in his best friend's face and needing no marriage bond to discern that.

He remembered how Vin had been when the younger man had first arrived on the Rutherford. Until that point, Vin had been able to keep to himself in a safe outpost posting, but aboard the Rutherford, he was forced to serve with other Vulcans, and as First Officer, Chris saw first hand how difficult it was for him. While the Vulcans on board did not ostracize him, there was no doubt they felt uncomfortable in his presence. It was only until Vin came on board the Maverick and form the connections he did with the rest of the Senior Staff, not to mention with Chris personally, did Vin start to accept himself for what he was.

"I know," Alex sighed, and Chris could see how much this worried her too. Next to his friendship with Chris, it was Vin's love for this woman that saw him coming into his own. From the moment they had met, Chris suspected Alex had recognized Vin's isolation because she too had come on board the Maverick with difficulties of her own. Together, they had forged a friendship that became a marriage, and Chris was glad for it.

"Where is Mr Tanner anyway?" Ezra inquired.

"He's helping Mary replicate us some clothes for when we go planetside," Chris couldn't help frowning at that. He had no desire to let Mary anywhere near the Borg, but she pointed out, quite rightly, that she knew more about Vulcan culture than anyone else on board. At present, Vin and Billy Travis were the only Vulcans on the Maverick, and neither had the expertise Mary had regarding the planet's culture or history.

Reminding himself as Captain of the Maverick, he could not play favourites no matter what feelings he had for the woman, and relented and allowed her to join the Away Mission. Of course, he did have a quiet word with Ezra about making sure the security detail accompanying them to the planet, kept an eye on Mary, without her knowledge, of course.

"So if we get everyone back," Nathan asked as he moved around Alex to her other ear. "Any ideas about how we're getting home? Are we going to find another wormhole?"

Alex and Chris met each other's gazes, but it was Alex who spoke first. "We could take a page out of James Kirk."

"Yeah," Chris nodded. "I was thinking that too. Slingshot around the sun? Pick up enough velocity, and we can time warp back to our time. Although Kirk made that trip across a span of three hundred years, not two and a half thousand."

"I considered that," Alex frowned, indicating she wasn't enamoured by that idea being the only way of getting home. "We do have another option."

"Pray tell," Ezra prompted. "Do not keep us in suspense."

Alex explained

"Do you think that will work?" Nathan stared at her.

"It might," Alex met Chris's gaze. "If you make the attempt, Sir."

Chris considered the idea and agreed. He did like it, and if he was right about the person she was talking about, he suspected it might damn well work.

"Alright Commander," Chris nodded with a grin before regarding the others in the room. "But first, let's go get our people."

Surak continued to watch them, having no idea what they were.

He had expected Andorians, Tellerites, perhaps even Orions, but not the things that emerged from the ship. For a moment, he wondered if they were actually life forms. They looked more like machines and moved the same way. As they emerged from the ship, swarming around its ruined hull like ants, there was something chilling about their lack of communication. For a moment, he wondered if they communicated using telepathy. His people were able to meld. Some adepts did not even need to touch to establish communication. Did these aliens speak to each other in the same way?

Continuing to watch them, Surak assumed his observations went unnoticed although everything they did was a mystery to him because they moved so mechanically, giving him no body language to read. One of them, the tallest he noted, froze suddenly in his tracks and turned in Surak's direction. His head was adorned with cybernetic implants and some type of ocular attachment, The red laser pointer of the device caught the young Vulcan in the eye, making him flinch.

Then they started walking towards him.

For a moment, Surak wondered what he ought to do. It seemed rude to be simply gaping at them and not saying a word especially after he was noticed. Remembering his manners, he emerged from behind the rocks and greeted them.

"Peace and long life," he offered them the salute of greeting familiar to all his people. On a world with so many tribes warring constantly, the gesture was the one way to bridge the gap, and he hoped it would mean the same to these strangers.

They did not answer and kept coming towards him. Even though they stared at him, Surak had the feeling they did not actually see him, and as the distance between them narrowed, he began to feel fear creeping into his heart. Chiding himself because he ought to know better, the way they were closing in suddenly struck Surak with the idea they were a pack preparing to bring down their prey.

And the prey was him.

The association was too much. Instincts that kept Surak alive these last two months during the Tal'oth were now screaming at him, and as the strangers converged on him, he understood the meaning clearly.

Run.

Without thinking twice, Surak abandoned any hope of peaceful contact and sprinted away with far more speed than the creatures behind him were capable of doing themselves. He did not look over his shoulder as he ran across the rocky landscape, knowing only as he widened the distance between them, Surak was running for his very soul.

Vin Tanner's first view of his homeworld once the shimmer of the transporter faded from his eyes was the sky.

Accustomed to the blue of Texas, the pale reddish sky of Vulcan was jarring, and he stared at it for a second, thinking the next day ought to be good because, on Earth, that's what a red sky signified. Through the reddish haze, he saw the curve of a stellar body that might have been a moon but was in fact, a planet. T'Khut loomed large in the sky, but it was a dead world almost incapable of supporting any life. In the present day, T'Khut's primary function was a mining facility, since the world was rich with metal, unlike Vulcan.

The heat enveloped him almost immediately, and when he felt it against his skin for the first time, Vin understood why he'd survived on that savage world in the rim for so long, why returning to Texas had been so welcoming because Texas like Vulcan was hot. Fascinated and perhaps a little scared, he surveyed the landscape before him and saw the sea before him, marvelling at the birdlife that flew through the air indifferent to the new arrivals who suddenly appeared in their midst.

"Vin?" Chris came alongside him.

Vin blinked and turned back to his Captain and hid the smirk that wanted to steal across his face at the sight of Chris. "You look awful silly with those ears."

"Now you know what I have to put up with all the time looking at you," Chris returned with a similar quip. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded honestly. "It just feels strange being here like this. None of it seems familiar but other things ..." he closed his eyes and felt the heat on his face, "feels like home. It's weird."

"No, it's not," Chris said kindly, "you're connected to this planet, even if you don't know it."

They had materialised on the surface in the general location of where the warp signature left by the Corizzo was last detected. The Away Team comprised of himself, Chris, Alex, Mary, Ezra, Nathan and JD, who insisted on being involved in any rescue operation of Buck Wilmington. All were dressed in traditional Vulcan clothing, which consisted of sleeveless vests, shirts, breeches and shifts of light fabric to deal with the hot weather.

Alex lowered the tricorder she was studying the instant they materialised and glanced at the Captain to whom she was grateful to for inquiring after Vin. Even though she was just as concerned about Vin's state of mind, she knew the importance of their mission here and how necessary it was for them to get to their lost crew and depart before history was irrevocably affected. Besides, their marriage bond would give him a clear indication of her love and support without her needing to voice it.

"Captain, the warp signature of the runabout ends at a location twenty-five meters from our current position, but the ship isn't here any more."

"What?" Chris stared at her. "Where is it gone?"

"I'm not sure," she explained. "It may have taken off using thrusters. It may not be space worthy, but it might be in good enough shape for it to take off, at least for travelling short distances."

Ezra who was surveying the area for any signs of trouble winced at the revelation the runabout was nowhere in the vicinity. JD who was standing next to him exchanged a glance with the Security Chief, both men finding solidarity in their frustration at the continuing obstacles in their way as they tried to retrieve the people they cared for.

"Then they could be anywhere," Ezra stated grimly.

"I don't think so," Chris shook his head, already considering where a handful of Borg would go in their current predicament. The Borg relied on technology and their ability to maintain their numbers even after devastating losses. The Borg arriving on this world would know their best chances of survival would be to assimilate as many people as they could and expand their Collective. "I think their plan right now would be to reach a population sizeable enough to boost their numbers but not too large to put up a fight."

"How likely is that to happen at this point in time?" Nathan asked, his knowledge of Vulcan history revolving mostly around treatments and the unique conditions Vulcan physiology sometimes experienced.

"Very likely," Ezra spoke, having studied the technology of weaponry throughout the ages, Vulcan included, during his Academy days when he chose a career in security. Glancing in Vin's direction, he expanded his statement. "Thanks to their discovery of anti-matter, your ancestors chose to use them in weapons of mass destruction. The resulting war between two factions, more or less bombed Vulcan back into the bronze age."

"Ezra's right," Mary confirmed. She was the real expert on the subject, not merely because of her time in the Diplomatic Corps but she had lived on Vulcan during her marriage to Captain Syan. As his wife, it was essential for her to understand his culture and the history of his people. "Historically at this point, they're still rebuilding after the wars between the Mahn'heh Protectorate and the Kingdom of Lahirh."

Vin's eyes widened at the revelation, aware his people were violent and that the philosophy of Surak was followed after much bloodshed throughout their history. Now he knew it had been a necessity to channel their rage and aggression somewhere. If not, the result would be a repeat of the history Mary and Ezra were now unfolding for them.

"The Borg aren't great strategists," Chris remarked, "they'll take the direct route to the nearest supply of potential drones. I know we're on the far side of the Forge, Mary what's in the area?"

"The Forge?" Vin asked, and then felt embarrassed because this was his homeworld and he knew almost nothing about it. After his rescue from the planet he was marooned on with his foster family, Vulcan authorities disavowing any knowledge of him had created a permanent rift between him and his homeland. Everything Vulcan in him had burned away under the hot Texas sun.

What investigation he made his people had to do with physiology, mostly because he knew Vulcans did not mature the same way humans did. While he experienced the pre-adolescent version of Pon Farr on the planet with his foster parents, the full onslaught of it was something he had to be prepared for. As it stood, when Pon Farr did come for him, Vin was utterly swept away by its fury.

"It's a large area of desert," Mary gave him a look of understanding, and as his teacher in all things Vulcan, she felt it her duty to keep helping him understand his culture, even now. "By the looks of it, Amonak hasn't been established yet so the area would be deserted. It's called the Forge for a good reason, the Fire Plains and the Womb of Fire are in this area."

"I remember," Chris nodded. "I saw the Fire Plains when I was here as a lieutenant, I wanted to see Seleya, so we flew over the plains on the way. Yeah, if the Borg wants to increase their numbers, this wouldn't be the place to find bodies. I'm guessing they probably headed to the closest settlement once they landed and repaired the runabout enough to make the trip."

"And the minute they arrive there, they will begin assimilating as many of the inhabitants as they can find," Mary reminded. "Chris, we have to get there before they damage the timeline."
"You don't have to tell me. What do you think is our best bet? ShiKahr?"

"I would say so," Mary nodded. "Although at this point, it would be just a town, not the capital."

JD, who was silent throughout the discussion, had drifted away from the group. Instead, he was no longer facing the Eastern Sea but looking inland towards the desert.

"You see something JD?" Alex noticed his study of the landscape when she looked up from her tricorder in an attempt to pinpoint any further emissions from the runabout. JD was shifting his attention from the display on his tricorder to the terrain ahead as if he was trying to work something out.

"There's someone out there," he replied after a second, "about fifteen kilometres in a south-west direction."

"Are you sure?" She asked. "There's a lot of wildlife on this planet, even in the desert."

"It's definitely humanoid," JD looked up, unconvinced.

"Okay," she patted him on the shoulder, indicating her trust in his findings. Turning back to the others, she called out to get Chris's attention. "Captain, JD's detected someone fifteen kilometres away."

"One person? Out here?" Chris and the rest of the Away Team turned towards the duo. Chris raised a brow at the announcement, thinking despite the sea nearby, the inland reach of the area was rather harsh and no place to be travelling alone.

"Captain," Ezra spoke up animated by the idea of there being someone in the area. "We may have an eye witness if they saw the Borg's arrival. "

"They'd be pretty lucky they weren't assimilated if they saw anything," Nathan pointed out.

"We'll never know until we ask them," Chris replied, reaching into his pocket and retrieving the combadge hidden there. "Captain to the Maverick," he said, tapping it once.

"This is the Maverick," Drew Katovit's voice replied promptly. "Captain, is everything alright?"

The assistant chief of security had the bridge while they were down here and had not been pleased when their large Away Team had beamed down to the surface without more security personnel. However, with Ezra, Vin and Alex present among that number, the man was satisfied the Captain was safe.

"Everything is fine," Chris assured him. "I need you to scan the area and beam us to the location of the life sign fifteen kilometres from where we are."

"Why would there be someone out here all alone?" Vin mused while Chris waited for an answer. "I mean the territory is pretty harsh."

Even though Vin knew little about the Forge apart from Mary's description, his own observations of the area reminded him of the desert canyons of New Mexico and Nevada back on Earth. The baked ground, the craggy mountains he could see in the distance, not to mention the harsh desert winds scarifying the landscape, told him this was not a place for wandering.

Mary thought for a moment and then remembered the Forge was often used by adolescent Vulcans for rites of passage. "They might be performing the kahs-wan."

"The what?"

"Kahs-wan," Mary explained. "It's a ritual where young Vulcans go out into the wild and endure a test for survival over ten days. They do this without food, water or weapons."

"That's barbaric!" Nathan exclaimed, not liking the idea of any child out in this wilderness without any supplies to help them survive.

"Well, its a tradition that goes back to the very beginnings of their civilisation and modern Vulcans do it to ensure their philosophy of non-aggression and emotional control does not make them weak. Syan went through it when he was a child too. If Billy wants to do it when he's older, I will let him. I won't be happy about it though," Mary admitted, "but for Vulcans, it's an essential part of growing up."

"I guess I missed it," Vin frowned, chalking this up to another part of his heritage he had not lived up to.

"I would not exactly say that Mr Tanner," Ezra corrected quickly. "You grew up in a wilderness, almost as savage as this parched landscape. I believe after your foster family passed, you were left alone, were you not?"

"Yeah," Vin nodded, supposing in that context Ezra was right. He had been left to his own devices for almost five years, getting by on what was left on the Rose and coming through it in one piece. "I reckon I was."

"Then you have more than fulfilled the conditions of the Kahs-wan in my opinion," Mary stated.

Vin was about to thank her for that when Chris spoke up again. "Okay, prepare for transport. The Maverick is going to put us down near the signal."

"We better hurry, Captain," Alex said urgently, "it looks like this person might be in trouble.”

Surak had run.

Fear was not an emotion he usually succumbed to, but seeing those odd people, who looked like machines more than lifeforms coming after him, filled him with a stark moment of terror where his instincts told him if he did not run, he would pay a dreadful price for it. Running as if he were being chased by a pack of wild sehlats, he did not look back as he bolted forward, determined to outrun the creatures who, fortunately, did not appear to move very fast.

He did not know how long he had run, only that he put almost all his energy into widening the gap between himself and the aliens. When he finally collapsed in the middle of the desert surrounded by canyon walls, he was almost exhausted. As the sharp gravel dug into the flesh of his palms and his knees, he remained bent over the ground, breathing hard and trying to process what he had seen.

Those aliens were not all the same, he realized now that he had a moment to think. They were all different, despite the machinery, what remained of their exposed faces wasn’t all the same species. What kind of menace had taken them all from several different worlds and turned them into such monsters? He had to get home to ShiKahr and warn the Clan elders of the danger. What if those things intended to turn everybody into one of their number?

Whatever they intended, Surak knew one thing for sure, he had to warn everyone.

So focussed on what he had run from, Surak had forgotten to mind his surroundings and only realized his error when he heard a piece of rock tumbling down the uneven face of the canyon wall behind him. The stone’s journey down the slope, bouncing off each boulder it encountered was a reminder that while there were dangers from other worlds, there were some as equally dangerous in the Forge itself

Straightening up immediately, he listened carefully and heard the crunch of padded feet against the gravelled ground. Breathing hard, he reached for his knife and clutched it tight as he scanned the trails meandering through the rock, as well as the fissures that were wide enough for something to pass through it. Something with teeth and a keener sense of the hunt than he would ever know. He only prayed there was one because if it were a pack, he would die before he ever got home to ShiKahr to warn anyone.

Trying not to let the fear overtake him, he decided to think of a way he could escape using the narrow trail through the canyons he had unwittingly run into, paralyzed with fright. It was foolishness, pure foolishness, he should have been thinking straight. He’d survived thus far because he had kept his wits about him, but now Surak was going to die because he allowed his fear to do the thinking for him and the end result was going to be his certain death.

As these angry thoughts ran through his head, and while he was cursing his stupidity, the le-matya made its appearance.

Surak froze as both boy and beast, eyed each other for a few seconds. The le-matya was big. Surak estimated by its powerful musculature, the thing would stand taller than him on its hindquarters. The pads of its paws were more massive than Surak’s palm and each one concealed poisoned-filled claws. Its ears were pricked upright, meaning it was well aware of him long before he knew it was stalking him. Yellow eyes filled with primitive hunger identified him immediately as prey and without further delay, raised its neck to reveal jaws beneath its elongated muzzle before uttering a long, bellowing howl.

It’s calling for its pack!

After ten days in the Forge, Surak recognized that familiar howl of assembly, which usually meant some hapless creature was about to meet a grisly end. As it took one step towards him, probably intending to bring him down before the other’s arrived, Surak’s nerve gave out, and he turned tail and ran.

The le-matya, more or less expecting the action, sprinted forward after him, its size ensuring each lunge ahead closed the distance between itself and the young man it was running down with ease. It could smell the scent of fear and felt its mouth water at how the meat would be salted by it. A growl from a distance signalled the arrival of the pack, though as its leader, it was its duty to bring down the prey first.

Surak also heard the howl and though he tried not to let it affect him, that cry drove needles of panic beneath his skin until he could think of nothing else but the dying to come. He considered turning to fight when he heard something in front of him. Leaping from edge to rock, another one of the beasts were descending the canyon wall, ahead of him, determined to cut him off before he could go any further. While he did not turn to look, he could hear the paws of other creatures slapping the rock as they converged upon him.

Suddenly, it was no longer fear he felt but rather anger, more than anger but fury. Fury that his life was going to end this way, outrage that it should come before he could warn his family and friends that outliers had come to their world and were planning to do, Gol only knew what. Gritting his teeth and swallowing away the terror that would have him die like an animal on his knees, Surak chose to fight for his life. If this were the end of him, he would die with honour.

Halting abruptly, he turned around and face the pack leader who was closest to him and brandished his blade, ready to fight for his life or his death, whichever came first. The creature upon realizing the prey had stopped running came to a slow stop, panting with a breath that sounds like gusts of wind as it closed in on him. Surak could see its eyes narrowing with calculation, just before it bared its long fangs, dripping with saliva and lunged.

The power behind its leap downed Surak immediately, and he fell flat on his back just as he felt the creature unsheathe its claws, its sharp nails digging into his flesh as they both landed. He uttered a cry of pain when they pierced his skin, causing warm blood to ooze down his chest as he felt the creature’s breath, rancid from the rotten flesh caught between its teeth, hovering over his face. With nothing to lose, he started stabbing at the creature’s flank furiously, determined to wound it severely before it killed him.

“Jesus Christ!”

Through the haze of pain, Surak heard the unfamiliar exclamation followed by a sound he did not recognize, like the burst from the engines of a skimmer. Whatever it was didn’t matter because no sooner than the discharge exploded in his ear, the le-matya uttered a sharp yelp of agony and was flung off his body. Dizzy from the pain, he blinked to see he was no longer alone and as he tried to sit up, heard repeated bursts of that strange sound, followed by more beasts crying out in pain and snarling in indignation as they were driven off. Only the one who had tried to kill him remained. It lay on its side unmoving while the others were scaling the canyon walls to make good their escape.

“Nathan, he’s been mauled. The poison in a le-matya’s claws is fatal!”

Nathan Jackson was already on the move, having done enough research about where they were going before they had beamed onto the surface. He was well aware of the effects of le-matya venom on any physiology, let alone Vulcan and was more than prepared to administer the antidote, fortunate they had reached the wounded boy before it was too late.

When it came to this particular toxin, time was of the essence.

“You’re going to be okay,” Nathan said to the young man, who was staring at him with shock. Aside from being traumatized by the attack, he was probably not expecting a rescue out here. “This is my first trip to these parts, can’t start a good vacation by letting my first patient die.”

“Who are you?” The boy stuttered as Mary and Chris closed in on him. Vin and the others were still chasing off the pack, making sure the beasts didn’t circle back for another attack. The creatures were big and mean, and their arrival had surprised the pack into fleeing, but that didn’t mean their retreat was permanent.

“My name is T’Mari,” Mary introduced herself, deciding there would be less pollution to the timeline if the boy knew as little about them as possible. “What is yours?”

He winced as Nathan cut open his bleeding tunic to take a closer look at his wound. “I am Surak.”

Mary’s eyes widened, and behind her, she heard Chris groan. So much for not contaminating the timeline, she thought silently.

“Damn it,” Chris cursed as he walked away from the boy, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

If they ever got home again, Chris just knew he was going to be spending a month explaining himself to those guys at Temporal Investigations.

When the main hatch of the Corrizo slid open, revealing to them once more the familiar red skies of Vulcan, this time over a small settlement in the distance, the processors of the drone who was once Buck Wilmington paused for a nanosecond. The disruption could have been attributed to any number of things in the fabric of algorithms, calculations and pulses of electronic data. However, One of Thirteen, now Primary Adjutant of Unimatrix 376, knew the reason was connected to his annoying organic components.

It was caused by surprise.

One of Thirteen understood why this was, of course, and supposed he could share the emotion felt by his once human self. When the human he had been was here last, this small settlement, consisting of no more than a few thousand people, was the centre of Vulcan society. ShiKahr was a bustling metropolis, home to the Vulcan Academy of Science, the Old Quarter where the best of Vulcan artisans displayed their work, with the L-langon Mountains visible in the distance.

But that was more than two millennia in the future. At present, it was a town surrounded on all sides by irrigated land dedicated to arable farming, in this case, flatroot. Although it sat at the edge of the region known as Vulcan’s Forge, a sizeable treacherous desert wasteland, the community sustained itself using the water beneath the large artesian wells that lay beneath the surface of the red rock. His sensors revealed the evidence of antimatter weapons being used at some point, but as was the case with such weapons, there was very little fallout.

In any case, such considerations were insignificant.

It was all irrelevant of course, One decided as he emerged, followed by the others. Whatever, past or future history lay before them, One’s primary objective was clear. Assimilation. Present calculations placed them at a disadvantage, they needed more drones. Once they were a true Collective again, One would determine the best course of action, whether to remain in this time and begin a new future of Borg, or attempt to return to their current temporal location. When they had failed to acquire the boy, or rather determine the presence of him was more important than his actual form, One realized as a settlement was in reach of the wounded runabout’s capability.

Their landing site was at the edge of a smaller cluster of life signs at the edge of the settlement. The mind of Buck Wilmington called it a district, with close to fifty people in the area. The technology of the time, though primitive by the standards of Borg and the future they had left behind, was still formidable enough to be utilized efficiently. All the raw material needed to expand their Collective was in their grasp, they simply needed to acquire more drones.

“This vehicle will travel no more,” Four of Thirteen replied. “Without the antimatter generator, we can no longer power the thrusters.”

“We can repair it once we have the materials,” One began walking in the direction of the nearest life signs that was not Borg.

The other drones followed him without question, with Four walking beside him as they left the runabout, planted in the middle of a field of native flora that One identified as Favinit, a plant that was not only considered decorative but was also edible. The size of the crop told One it was most likely used for the latter purpose. They trudged through the grass, sighting what appeared to be a dwelling a few feet away.

As anticipated, three life forms emerged immediately to investigate. The leader was male, and he was carrying a somewhat primitive weapon. It took One no more than a few seconds to conduct a scan through his ocular attachment to determine the danger it posed. The gun functioned utilizing energy projectiles capable of discharging high-intensity blasts when fired, the concentration strong enough to be fatal. The Borg had encountered such weapons on a dozen worlds before, and the result was always the same. Assimilation.

The presence of the weapon did nothing to discourage the Borg as One marched forward. The male continued to approach them, brandishing his blaster, preparing to confront them. One instructed the others to erect their shields in anticipation of the attack. Under normal circumstances, the Borg were willing to sacrifice a few drones to reach their goals, but these were not such conditions. Sacrificing any drone when their goal was the expansion of their numbers was counterproductive.

“What do you want?”

The linguistic translation node in all Borg immediately converted the Ancient Vulcan into a communication form they could interpret, not that it mattered what the substance of them was. The Borg saw no reason for verbal exchange and continued on their course without engagement. The species always made some entreaty to dissuade them from their objective, but appeals were irrelevant when the male’s fate was already decided. Meanwhile, the female and juvenile continued to watch the encounter with growing apprehension.

They’re a family, the voice of Buck Wilmington shouted in One’s mind, but it was a voice spoken from the bottom of a deep chasm. Barely registerable and ultimately unimportant. As if knowing it was ignored, what remained of Buck continued to scream in desperation.

Stop! Don’t do this! You’re destroying them!

We are making them Borg, One countered. Their distinctiveness will be added to our own, they will exist as something more significant than individual voices of discord. With us, there is only harmony.

This isn’t harmony! It’s hell!

One was in the lead, and so it was he who reached the Vulcan first. The male was not old, perhaps fifty or sixty, although according to the species physiology, this was young by Vulcan standards despite possessing sufficient maturity to father progeny. The fear on his face was apparent, surprising One who knew this race from its 24th-century counterparts. In the future, these species’ thoughts would be highly organized. However at this point, they had yet to develop the formidable mental intellect that made it possible to shape galactic events.

The United Federation of Planets would see its origins from Vulcan, who would find Earth and together they would form one of the most resistant forces against assimilation. If this world never took its place in the stars, then perhaps One could service the Collective after all by ensuring the Federation would never be created, and the Alpha Quadrant would one day fall to the Borg.

“Stop, or I will shoot.”

One moved towards him. The Vulcan’s nerve finally failed him, and he fired at point-blank range. The energy blast exploded from the barrel. Still, instead of striking down the intruders as the Vulcan hoped it would, the discharge dissipated almost immediately upon making contact with formidable Borg shields. The Vulcans expression ran a gauntlet of emotions in the few seconds it took for One to make contact. Shock, astonishment and finally fear.

Landing a hand across the Vulcan’s right shoulder, the man instinctively reacted to tear the arm away, leaving his left flank exposed. It was all the opening One needed to activate the twin injection nodules from the machinery in his arm. Before the Vulcan realized what was happening, the sharp point of the tubes penetrated his skin, like the fangs of a spider.

The woman’s scream filled the air as she saw her mate sink to his knees as thousands of Borg nanites invaded his system. As he dropped into the dirt, the pigment of his skin shifted into a decidedly grey as veins ran across his face in dark, ropey strands. He no longer resisted as his free will was obliterated by the nanites who were rewriting him like faulty programming to serve the needs of the Borg.

Instead of running away, the woman came towards her fallen mate, leaving the boy behind even though he called after her to not go. One allowed the others to deal with him as he tended to the male who was now very much in the grips of the assimilation process. Borg implants had erupted across his skin like metallic craters, and as Four came to a pause next to them, she looked to One for instructions.

“Return this one to the ship and complete the assimilation.”

“What about the juvenile?”

Four’s single emerald eye fixed on the child who was watching horrified as his mother’s ill-fated attempt to save her husband resulted in her being caught in the same trap. The woman was quickly overcome, screaming until the very last moment before the twin injection nodules penetrating her into her neck ended her fears for good.

“We do not possess a maturation chamber to make use of him at this time. We will complete the assimilation process on the others and wait.”

“Wait?”

The boy did not wait to see what came next after his mother and father were both assimilated. One looked at him running away from them, no doubt hurrying to the settlement to tell others what had happened to his parents. They would come, as they always did, thinking they could win and would almost always be proved wrong.

“For the others,” One replied. “They will be coming.”

Vin Tanner stared at the boy, trying to imagine this kid who was staring at them with a mixture of fear and worry, as the father of Vulcan society.

This kid would grow up to be a man who would change the course of history, by telling his people violence was not the answer and emotion was a mind-killer. At a time where warlords ruled over Vulcan, with so many different factions fighting each other in endless wars that placed the entire species on the brink of extinction, Surak would show them another way. If the Maverick's crew had not stopped that le-matya from killing him earlier, all that would have vanished.

How close they came to unravelling the history of the Alpha Quadrant was staggering.

Vin couldn't believe the place he found himself right now, not counting being on the world of his species for the first time. Here was the instrument that ensured he would be an outcast all his life among his people, and yet the near-miss to the destruction of Vulcan society, still left him shaken. Watching Nathan tend to Surak while Mary knelt by Surak offering him words of comfort, something the teenager was reacting to with much appreciation, Vin didn't know what to feel.

"Hey, you okay?" Alex touched his shoulder, noticing the disturbed look on his face.

"Yeah," Vin nodded still somewhat shellshocked. "That's Surak."

They were far away enough from the boy not to be heard, so Vin felt comfortable about speaking his mind to Alex now that they had a moment to themselves.

"Yeah, it is," Alex nodded in agreement, eyeing Surak who would be a philosopher, logician and scientist, trying to equate that legend with the scared teenager in their midst. "Hard to imagine."

"You know," Vin said quietly, "I was thinking of coming here not long before all this began." He swept his gaze across the harsh landscape and once again marvelled at how comfortable he was with the heat. All his life Vin resisted the pull to this world because of his disconnection from Vulcans. Yet the planet's reach around his heart was almost soothing, like a missing part of himself had been suddenly restored.

Alex knew why, of course, but allowed him to tell her. She was aware of his secret investigations about his parentage. Thanks to their encounter with Svinak in the other universe where they had retrieved Adam, Svinak had given Vin a clue to his past he never before possessed. The name of his parents. When Vin was rescued as a child from that world beyond the El-Adrel system, he was so young he was unable to pronounce his name correctly to his foster parents who simply called him Vin. Furthermore, the damage to the ship, in particular, the main computer, meant his adoptive parents were never able to learn the identity of his family until Svniak revealed the truth years later.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Vin nodded. "I know who my parents are, and I found out with Ezra's help, that I have grandparents, at least on my mother's side."

"Who are they?" Alex couldn't resist asking even though she knew the subject could not be easy for Vin to talk about.

"My grandpa is some kind of bigshot at the Vulcan Academy, and my grandma is a musician, she plays the lute. I was thinking I might go see them, you know to tell them that I'm alive, tell them what happened to their daughter. I owe my ma that much at least. I never thought I was going to come back here like this."

Alex couldn't blame him and entwined her fingers between his, understanding the conflicts he must be feeling. "No one could ever imagine something like that, but you're right, they deserve to know."

"I just wasn't sure I want to put myself through it, you know when they saw how I am, how different I am to other Vulcans."

Logic or not, Alex couldn't imagine they would not want to know what happened to their child. From what Alex knew of Vulcans herself and from what Mary told her, they took family very seriously. It harkened back to the days when families were tribes and clans.

"Vin, if your parents were V'tosh ka'tur, then you're exactly what they wanted you to be. Free."

Vin had taken some comfort in that, knowing despite how fearful he had been that his parents may be disappointed at how he turned out being raised human and all, they were followers of V'tosh ka'tur, a sect that embraced emotions not denied it. It was probably why they left Vulcan, to live a life that way without judgement by others. He was a product of that desire, no matter how tragically it turned out.

"Yeah can't argue with you there," he gave her an affectionate look, so grateful she was in his life and how instrumental she had been to his acceptance of himself. Unique, he smiled inwardly, thinking of the word she'd used to describe him during their earliest days on the Maverick together. He had realised at that moment she'd always see him as Vin, not some Vulcan.

"Well I wouldn't," she winked at him and then added. "Vin if we get back home, we can go together. No matter what happens, I'll be right there with you, always."

Vin leaned forward and kissed her on the lips in gratitude. "Thanks Darlin’."

Alex smiled at him and decided if Vin dared to meet his family on Vulcan, then for her part, it was time she looked up William Styles.

"Do you have any idea, how many forms you have to fill out for those temporal department guys, not to mention the interviews and the due diligence to make sure we didn't screw up the timeline?"

Chris Larabee lamented his fate as Ezra and JD came back to the group. The duo had conducted a covert sweep of the area to ensure the pack of le-matyas or any of the other dangerous wildlife known to inhabit the Forge did not make a sudden return to the scene.

"Captain, the area is secured," Ezra spoke up, ignoring the Captain's inevitable meeting with the Department of Temporal Investigations. "We are safe for the moment. I believe we scared those creatures away for the time being, but I would not recommend remaining in the area. "

"Agreed," Chris nodded, brushing aside his petty concerns and returning his attention to the matter at hand. "We don't want to be out here after dark. We need to find shelter."

Aside from the le-matyas, the Forge was also home to sehlats, sandworms, k'karee snakes and Shatarr reptiles, all who were dangerous and nothing to take lightly, even if the crew were armed with phasers. Leaving the area would not have been a problem an hour ago, but unfortunately, now they had run into Surak no less, simple transportation from one place to another was not an option.

"We can't transport out of here with him, can we?" JD asked quietly, glancing at Surak.

"No," Chris shook his head. "We can't let him see any more of our technology than he already has. Matter transportation isn't a thing here yet, and I don't want any further contamination of the timeline than there has been already."

"With the Borg here, we may not have a choice," Ezra reminded.

"Yeah but we can clean up that mess," Chris returned. "Anything affecting Surak on a profound level is another thing entirely. We can't allow anything to alter the course of his history."

"If the Borg have gone to Shi'Kahr, we need to get there Captain. Judging by the distance, it will take us almost ten days on foot if we attempt it by conventional means."

"Ten days?" JD’s eyes widened and stared at the desert in the distance. The idea of crossing it on foot made him wince.

"Well we're not doing that," Chris put an end to that notion once and for all. "JD, you get back to the Maverick and bring down one of our runabouts. Make sure that its name and registry numbers are masked. Pick us up at this location. We'll head to Shi'Kahr after that."

"Aye Captain," JD nodded in understanding, looking about for someplace discreet to make the request for transport so Surak would not see them.

"Chris," Mary called out to him.

"I'll get going now, Sir," JD replied and went off when Chris nodded in approval.

Chris and Ezra headed back to Mary and Nathan who were with Surak, noticing Alex and Vin talking privately out of everyone's earshot. Chris could only imagine what was going through Vin's head at present. He was glad Alex was helping him through whatever feelings he was experiencing since at present Chris was not in the position to.

"How is the patient?" Chris asked when he reached Mary, Nathan and the teenaged Surak.

"He should be fine," Nathan explained. "The le-matya's toxin is pretty serious stuff but by our ... I mean where we're from, we have a treatment. I've given him a shot, but he can't be moved for a few hours."

"Thank you," Surak said to Chris weakly, recognising this was the leader of the strangers who had come to his rescue. His skin was still covered in beads of sweat, and his colour was definitely off. "If you had not come..."

"It's okay," Chris said kindly, thinking he was no older than Adam. "My name is Chris, and this is Ezra," he indicated the security chief beside him. "What are you doing out here on your own?"

"He was undertaking the Rite of Tal'oth," Mary explained.

"The Rite of Tal'oth?" Ezra burst out. "You have been in this wilderness for months?"

Chris shot Ezra a look because this was a usual ritual of all young people on Vulcan and should have been no surprise to any adult Vulcan. "How long have you been here?"

"Three months," he said weakly. "I was in my final month when I saw the outliers come."

All the Maverick officer's exchanged a look. "You saw them?" Chris probed further and noted from his peripheral vision, Alex and Vin joining them.

"Yes," the boy nodded. "I watched them for a little while, but there was something about them that did not seem right. When they saw me and came after me, I grew afraid, and so I ran. I was a coward."

"The hell you were," Vin said hating as much as the others, the shame on the boy's face. "You did the smartest thing you could. You couldn't take them on, you did the..." Vin paused and then finished his sentence. "The logical thing."

Chris tossed Vin a little smile before facing Surak again. "It's not cowardice to do the wisest thing," he said to the young man. "Besides, it's worked out well, you can tell us what happened."

Surak took in Chris's words, in better spirits following that dual validation. "I did not see a great deal. When they chose to pursue me, I ran as fast as I could. They do not move fast, and I was able to escape them. I had hoped to return to Shikahr to warn everyone. My family is there, I do not wish for them to be harmed, but when I saw the ship in the sky, heading towards ShiKahr, I knew I failed."

"You didn't fail," Chris assured him, but couldn't ignore the ominous implications of Surak's words. They had to get to ShiKahr fast before the handful of Borg grew too large for them to stop. Before it became too late to save all of Vulcan from assimilation.

In his prison, he could not move. 

Invisible shackles kept him bound in place within his glass cell while beyond its walls, were iron bars. Standing further out from those bars, were more bars, resembling some fractal design, ever-expanding into more patterns of confinement, more boundaries, more traps. Beyond the design, a chasm circled them in a ring of oblivion. On the other side of that emptiness, a wasteland disappeared into the horizon of the sunless sky.

If it were a black canvas, he would have been able to take some comfort in it, but he was given no such respite. His sky was a view of everything taking place in the world he was no longer able to affect. Buck was forced to watch as his body became a component in an engine of darkness, bringing ruination to everything around it. Buck couldn't close his eyes to hide the terrible scenes unfolding before him, nor could he block out the voices in his mind. 

There was no escaping the hell Buck Wilmington was forced to occupy since the Borg had assimilated him. 

Watching in despair, he saw the family encountered quickly overcome as if they ever had a chance of escape. Though he screamed and shouted from inside his cage, unable to even bang the walls in protest, he was forced to witness their terror as they became a part of the Collective. It was obscene how the Borg considered this unity, the voices they believed spoke as one, when in fact it was merely subjugation wearing a different cloak. 

His only company was the machine intelligence using his body to expand the Collective. To the others, he was just another voice in the wilderness, screaming against his fate. Even though he knew he was talking to an aspect of himself, twisted into being by nanites and Borg programming, it felt like an alien presence who had robbed him of everything that was him. It listened to him like he was white noise, paying him no mind but using his life against him. 

When Chris Larabee had started transporting the Borg off Deck 14, using the transporter buffers in the most brilliant way possible to rid himself of the Borg menace on his ship, it was Buck’s knowledge the Borg used to escape the same fate. Compensating for the infamous Larabee hat trick, the Borg presence using him had concluded the best course of action was to leave and successfully completed the task by threatening to tear the ship apart in the process. 

Now that same machine intelligence was using his knowledge to begin the assimilation of Vulcan and no matter how hard Buck fought against it, he could only watch helplessly as he saw more and more victims captured. In his prison, their terrified faces provided him with company he could not ignore as each one of them were burned into his memory. It was torture, and though he prayed hard Chris would deliver him from this hell, he was equally hopeful that someone would find a way to end his misery, even if that freedom meant death. 

Norath could not believe what was happening.

As she watched the unfolding horror ahead, she tried to wrap her brain around the reality occurring before her. Dark smoke billowed in thick columns towards the sky from the fires consuming the homes belonging to people who were friends and neighbours. The palms that made up the tree-lined street had also caught on fire, and as the embers travelled from one branch to another, they resembled a procession of flames.

The smoke-filled street made her eyes sting with pain, but despite the tears, she saw bodies scattered across the street. Some were dead, others were simply lying there, trapped in some catatonic state she could not understand. Their eyes were open and staring into nothingness, even as their skin became mottled and grey. Not dead, but not alive either. 

Less than an hour ago, Norath was on her way home from Shi'Kahr Academy to share the evening meal with her family who lived in the outer T'hossuth district. The district was home to the agricultural belt surrounding Shi'Kahr, its farms irrigated by the water from the artesian wells beneath the city. Her father, like many of his contemporaries, grew rillian gourd, along with pel-taruk and flatroot. While the work was hard, he achieved moderate success in being able to provide for his family of four and pay for his daughter's education. 

Her mother T'Aren had prepared her favourite meal of kleetanta, served with the customary forati sauce, and they sat around the table, talking about the things only families could. Her father Solkar spoke of the good filavit harvest, and how he would be able to hire a new hand to help in the fields, now she was at the Academy and no longer able to take up the duty herself. 

Norath felt guilty about the sacrifices he was making to send her there, but as always, Solkar gave her a reassuring smile to tell her it was a small price to pay to see his 'little butterfly' soar. At which point, her little brother S'tash would make gagging noises and receive a reproachful stare from T'Aren who would silence his insolence immediately.

That pleasant memory felt an eternity away when she witnessed the destruction around her. When Kendrak, the only child of their neighbour Bentak and his wife Areunna had come to their door for help, they had not dreamed the child's hysterical report could prove this terrible. Violence was nothing new for Vulcans. With the warlord Sudoc having captured most of Vulcan save Shi'Kahr, her father feared the warmonger was finally making his bid to conquer the last remaining free city on the planet. Solkar, who fought all his life to ensure Sudoc never breached the city, rallied others so they could deal with the intruders at Bentak's farm. 

They did not return. 

Fearful of what might have happened to him, T'Aren had taken her family to seek help at the district centre when they discovered the intruders were already there. They were less than a dozen in number, but they looked nothing like Sudoc's army. In fact, they were clearly alien. Covered from head to toe in a cybernetic exoskeleton, they moved down the street saying nothing, staring at the shocked bystanders with eyes lacking all emotion. At first, none of the inhabitants of T'hossuth knew what they were witnessing. They couldn't even be sure that these intruders were the menace Kendrak had claimed, not until someone approached the leader of the group. 

He was taller than all the others when he was approached by Asok, the remaining law guardian for the district who had not gone with the others to Bentak's farm. The stranger did not appear to register the guardian's presence. Then without warning, he reached out and grabbed Asok by the shoulder. Before the guardian could do anything to stop him, twin nodules were driven into Asok's neck. 

Everyone could only watch as something overcame Asok, removing from him all ability to resist. He remained where he stood, a man frozen in place unable to speak or react to anything around him until the dark veins began running across his skin and the metal implants appeared through his flesh. It was the sight of the implants, clawing their way through his cheeks like some insidious burrowing insect that finally drove everyone who saw it into utter panic. 

After that, things deteriorated rapidly with men armed with blasters opening fire only to discover their weapons were useless. The enemy possessed personal shields allowing nothing to penetrate to harm them. The invaders returned fire, but their weapons were not intended to kill but to incapacitate. Norath watched mesmerized as friends and neighbours tumbled to the ground after being struck by the enemy's blasts. No sooner than they had collapsed and were rendered unconscious, the cybernetic creatures performed the same procedure, infecting them with an unknown agent. 

Was this what had happened to her father? 

The low drone of a skimmer barge was followed by the arrival of the vehicle a few seconds later. It had come from the opposite direction away from the enemy advance and was piloted by Keloth, the local irrigation engineer who lived two farms away from their own property. When the enemy had arrived in town, the district's inhabitants had been driven to its centre, hoping to gain security in numbers, not realizing they were merely giving the invaders more fodder for their dark purposes.

The barge, customarily employed to carry machinery, was now filled to capacity with others wishing to flee the area. Norath saw fractured families, clinging to each other, traumatized by what was happening. As it came to a halt, she heard another explosion and turned to see fresh fighting as the remaining defenders of the district resume bombarding the enemy with all the firepower at their disposal. The tactic was no longer employed for victory but rather to offer enough distraction to ensure their families escape. 

"Come on!" Keloth shouted. "We're going to the central district! We need to warn them about what's happening here before it is too late!" 

It would only be a matter of minutes before the seemingly unstoppable cybernetic trespassers overran the district and those unfortunate enough to still be here. The desire to win had been abandoned in the face of their imminent defeat. All that mattered now was escaping to warn the rest of Shi'Kahr.

"Thank you!" T'Aren shouted at Keloth in gratitude, lifting up S'tash to the short steps leading into the barge's open deck. It was a testament to his fear that S'tash went without complaint when under normal circumstances he would be complaining that he could manage by himself. No sooner than he had stepped on board, an old man was gesturing him to sit down.

"Get on!" She turned to Norath, refusing to board until her oldest child had gone first.

"What about Father?" Norath demanded, staring at the invaders who had breached the tattered line of defenders, neutralizing them as quickly as they had done to all the others before now. Even as she asked the question, she could see them approaching like an unrelenting tide of cold doom. 

T'Aren's face showed her grief briefly before her instincts to protect her children overrode her emotions, forcing away her pain to some distant place for the moment. Through their marriage bond, she could feel Solkar, but what she knew was of no comfort to her. 

"He is not dead," T'Aren revealed, "I would know it if he were." 

Yet she did not tell Norath, she could no longer sense his thoughts at all. 

"We must go!" Keloth barked again prompting Norath to complete the journey into the barge. As she climbed on, she looked over her shoulder to ensure T'Aren was behind her. Immediately after boarding the craft, the barge lurched forward, and both women gripped the seats and rails to avoid stumbling. 

"Mother!" S'tash called out to them. 

Norath saw T'Aren heading towards her son, seated next to Manoth, one of the older citizens of the district when suddenly, what sounded like an explosion was followed by the barge veering sharply to one side, throwing people out of their seats as they screamed in fright. Grabbing the rail, it was all she could do to keep herself from being flung overboard as the barge tipped over, the plume of fire and dark smoke trailing the left engine of the craft indicated its mortal wound. 

"HOLD ON!" 

Amidst the screaming and the sound of metal tearing, Norath saw the barge flying through the air, slanting perilously to its side at a nearly 45-degree angle. Keloth was trying to regain control but the vehicle was already overloaded in its attempt to be a lifeboat and he could do nothing to stop its violent descent to the ground. It smashed into one of the shop fronts in the main street, taking out a wall before its own frame started to buckle. The rail she was clinging to broke away, and as they both tumbled away, she saw the ball of fire that followed the eruption of its power cells. 

She was rolling across the dirt, aware that others had also fallen, seconds before a fireball engulfed the entire barge. 

The last face she saw before she blacked out belonged to T'Aren a second before it was swallowed up in flames. 

"How is he?" 

Chris asked Nathan when the runabout landed a short distance from where they had discovered the adolescent Surak. As ordered, JD returned to the Maverick to pilot the Cimarron back to the planet. It would be far less complicated to make the journey using conventional means than attempting to explain to the young Vulcan how they were able to cross such vast distances without a vehicle. At this time, transporter technology was still an unknown to Vulcans, and Chris had no intention of polluting the timeline any further than it was already by using it to travel across the Forge to Shi'Kahr. 

"He's going to be fine," Nathan glanced at the boy who was asleep, his head cradled against Mary's lap as Nathan's treatment took effect. "I administered something for the pain while his body is metabolizing the drugs I gave him. Thankfully by our time, the Vulcans developed a pretty formidable cure for le-matya venom, derived from Ches'lintak, a native plant found around here. Still, he's undernourished, recovering from a bunch of wounds sustained over the last three months, including bruises, lacerations and some toxins. I noted trace evidence of a soporific in his bloodstream, which his body has yet to break down entirely."

"I think that might be from a S'gagerat," Mary said helpfully from where she was. Chris noticed she was stroking Surak's brow the same way she would do to Billy when he was snuggled next to her on the sofa during one of their holovid nights. 

"What pray tell is that?" Ezra asked, familiar with the Ritual of Tal'oth but had scant knowledge of Vulcan wildlife, beyond the most notable being the sehlat and the le-matya.

"It's a carnivorous plant," Mary explained. "They're native to this area and remain beneath the ground, grabbing prey with its tendrils when they wander within reach. Syan ran into one when he was performing the ritual. Apparently, the tendrils have tiny spikes that inject you with something that makes you sleep, so you don't struggle during digestion." 

"Lovely," Ezra made a face. "And this young man survived such an encounter?" 

"Well they build us tough," Vin managed to say, staring thoughtfully at Surak and thinking how much he and this boy shared in common. He never imagined he'd have familiar ground with any Vulcan, not after the way he was raised. Then again, now that he knew of the kahswan and the Ritual of Tal'oth, it appeared he had completed the prerequisites for manhood in Vulcan culture and never even knew it. 

"That's for sure," Alex brushed his arm, giving him a small smile of affection. 

"Alright," Chris nodded, seeing the runabout set down not far away and returned his attention to Surak. "Let's get him on board while he's still out and head to Shi'Kahr. If the Borg is there, I'm guessing it won't be hard to track them down. They're not known for their subtlety." 

"Neither are Vulcans in this period," Mary added, throwing an apologetic look at Vin for making such generalizations but it was the truth. "Chris, if the time period is correct, most of the planet is under the control of a warlord named Sudoc. He's the last tyrant before the Awakening, where Vulcans started to adopt a non-violent philosophy," she did not glance at Surak as she spoke, but they all knew he was in her mind as she made the report. "From what I recall, he's an extremely powerful telepath who used his ability to meld to control his generals. With the meld, he was able to communicate, alter behaviour and if necessary, punish anyone who got out of line." 

"Christ," Vin swore under his breath, thinking this was so much like Svinak from that other universe it made his skin crawl. He had never understood how non-emotion could save a culture. Still, the more he encountered Vulcans without Surak's teachings, the more he was starting to appreciate how necessary it was.

"Would we encounter his forces if we went to Shi'Kahr?" Ezra inquired, bracing himself for the possible complications this might produced to their efforts to rescue Buck and Julia, to say nothing of halting the Borg activity in the city.

"No," Alex answered before Mary could, having studied Vulcan culture in depth following her marriage to Vin. Since he was so disconnected from his people and their disciplines, she had been investigating Vulcan culture before Surak's rise, intending to know how they controlled Pon Farr in the past. Although the event was seven years away, Alex had no wish to be caught unawares when Vin underwent the Pon Farr again. "Shi'Kahr was technologically superior, and there were enough formidable leaders to keep Sudac out. If it falls because of Borg interference..."

"You don't have to tell me," Chris raised his hand to stop her from going any further. 

"Captain," Alex added. "There is one other thing. Surak's father is Stef. At this time, Stef had not become a merchant yet, so he should still be a member of Shi'Kahr's military council, even I know we can't risk the timeline, but if things get bad, we may have to consider the possibility of gaining his help to fight the Borg if they've already begun assimilation."

"Either that, or we must bring down more security officers," Ezra added and saw Chris's immediate reaction to that suggestion.

The Captain wanted no such thing. 

However, Ezra and Alex were right, there was a choice to be made because the more people came down here from the Maverick, the higher the chances of polluting the timeline. As it was, there was no telling how their interaction with young Surak could affect the boy's future, and Chris didn't want to worsen the situation any more than it already was. However, the Borg had a head start on them, and the Collective could move exceedingly fast when it came to assimilation. If their numbers grew too large, Chris might very well have to acquiesce to Ezra's desire for more security staff. 

"We have no idea how he'll react," Mary pointed out. "Vulcan's in this day and age are exceedingly aggressive. If we tell them about the Borg, they will want to know how we're aware of them. Our cover story had better be foolproof because if it's not, they'll consider us a threat or worse yet, Sudoc's agents." 

"Maybe we ought to ask the kid when he wakes up," Vin broke in. "Look, while we're jawing about this, God only knows what the Borg are doing in Shi'Kahr. Let's figure it out on the way there. I know we're all thinking about the future, but that's a problem we can deal with later. Right now, we got to make sure he," Vin glanced at Surak. "Can grow up to become whatever he's meant to be." 

Chris flashed Vin a look of appreciation for that rather timely reality check because the helmsman was correct. The future was something formless yet to come. Right now they had more significant problems to attend to in Shi'Kahr.

"Vin's right," Chris regarded his Away Team. "Let's get there first and not waste time speculating. I still want to get Buck and Julia back. We've got a lot more chances of making that happen if we can get to them before their numbers grow too large."

"Good idea Captain," Alex spoke up, her gaze lifting to the sky and seeing the sun began to vanish behind the mountains in the distance, the approaching dusk giving sharper definition to T'Khut in the amber sky. Returning her attention to the display of her tricorder, she saw the appearance of life signs, not their own, growing in number. "We need to get out of here. This isn't the place to be after dark. I'm picking up multiple signals, I think that pack of le-matyas might be on their way back." 

"That ain't no surprise," Vin commented. While he might not know everything about Vulcan wildlife, he knew predators and le-matyas were nocturnal hunters. "We scared them off, but they know we're food, so they're coming back now that it's dark and they got the advantage."

"Then let's not give them one," Chris said quickly. "Ezra, give Nathan a hand with the kid. Vin, get to the Cimarron, we're leaving as soon as we're on board." 

"Right," Vin nodded and headed off immediately, eager to get underway now that they were finally making a move towards Shi'Kahr. 

As he headed towards the Cimarron, he passed JD, and the two officers gave each other a nod of acknowledgement as JD continued towards the Captain. 

"Captain," JD announced himself when he reached the Away Team, urgency on his face as he laid eyes on Chris Larabee again. JD had left the engines on standby, suspecting Vin would want to assume the piloting duties once the Vulcan boarded the craft. Besides, once JD gave Chris his report, he was pretty sure the Captain would want to get moving immediately, and Vin could get them to Shi'Kahr much faster. 

"Good work bringing the runabout here so quickly JD." Chris complimented as Ezra and Nathan hoisted Surak off the ground, and he offered Mary a hand to get to her feet.

"Had to Sir, we gotta get moving." 

JD's taut tone made everyone pause, but it was Chris who spoke first. "What's happened?" 

"I was conducting a scan of Shi'Kahr for Borg life signs when I hit the atmosphere, and I found some." 

"How many?"

At last count, there had only been thirteen Borg on board the Corrizo, Chris sensed he was not going to like JD's updated tally at all. 

"Thirty-five and counting."

TWENTY-SIX YEARS AGO
BEYOND THE EL-ADREL SYSTEM

There was only one thing to do when they discovered the child, get him away from this ship of death where his parents no doubt met their end.

At Noah's prompting, Genie returned to the Rose, carrying the small boy who was undoubtedly traumatised by the ordeal of the crash, to say nothing about being trapped on this barren world alone. The anthropologist wanted to remain behind so he could adequately conduct an investigation of the ship and its doomed occupants. He had to discover their identities if there was any chance of reuniting the child with his family. He had to before Genie got any ideas to the contrary that would result in heartbreak.

As he watched her leave, with the little boy clinging to her like she was all the life on this distant world, he could see the attachment between them forming like invisible tendrils of need binding them to each other. When she disappeared behind the craggy rock formations that separated the Rose from the crashed ship, he resumed his journey to the cockpit. He prayed he found something because the longer the child stayed in their care, the harder it would be for Genie to give him up.

Noah Tanner couldn't help but wonder if Fate was playing cruel tricks with his wife.

During an expedition to the Antares Cluster two years ago, they'd strayed too close to a solar flare and the resulting radiation leak Genie was exposed to ensured she would not be able to carry a pregnancy to term. The only way Noah was able to prevent Genie's descent into despair, was to distract her with work for the university. He accepted assignments and expeditions that took them far away from the core worlds, where the notion of starting a family had too much fertile ground to thrive.

For the most part, it worked, Genie had thrown herself into their expeditions wholeheartedly, but the sadness remained, even though she tried her best to hide it. It surfaced when she saw a mother and child, revealing to him that though she was healed, the pain remained. Seeing how she reacted to the boy, Noah decided he would go through with his plan to suggest adoption when they returned home to Earth. There was a galaxy of children orphaned by the Dominion War, and after she was forced to give up this little Vulcan cherub to his family, it would assuage her loss.

Entering the cockpit doorway, Noah paused and felt his stomach clench in horror at the carnage within. Instinctively he glanced at the compartment where they'd found the child and was grateful its view of the cockpit was obscured. Noah would have grave concerns for the boy's sanity if he'd seen was inside it. Once again, Noah was glad he made the decision to send Genie back to the Rose because this was not a sight any child should have to see.

Judging by just how much of the ship was driven into the ground, the damage was proportionate to its hard landing. From the exterior, not to mention the debris field surrounding the crater, Noah knew the damage was extensive. The cost in blood, however, could not be tallied until he entered the cockpit and determined how that terrible landing had affected its crew.

The child had survived mostly because he found himself the safest place to hide, unaware that the small compartment, usually built against the most durable parts of the ship's superstructure, and away from the outer hull, would be best equipped to absorb the impact. Of course, Noah thought silently, and with a faint smile, the kid probably wasn't thinking in those terms. He was a little boy, and when they were scared, what child didn't look for a safe closet to hide?

No such refuge was afforded to the two people who were most likely his parents.

The male was lying across the main controls, his eyes were still open as if the last thing he wanted to do when he left this life was gaze at the occupant in the co-pilot's seat. The carbon scorching across what remained of the main controls revealed what had taken his life. The displays in front of him were all but obliterated and fragments of glass, not just from the cockpit window that shattered on impact, revealed their outward eruption.

Whatever energy struck this ship, the resulting power surge had overloaded the controls, so the explosion had all but killed the pilot instantly. It took a moment for Noah to remember that Vulcans bled green and the darkening stains of emerald across the panels and pooling on the floor were in fact copper-based blood. Most of the pilot's face was no longer recognisable due to severe burns, but the blood had come from the shards of glass driven into his skin. Noah reached out and closed the man's eyes, feeling it wrong that he should be staring into this carnage for all time.

The woman was in somewhat better condition, though not much.

There was no question of what killed her, though it was not as instantaneous as her co-pilot's end. The right side of her skull was almost pulp and how she had managed to land her ship with these injuries astonished Noah. She had to be fighting every second of the trip down to the surface to stay conscious. Then again, Noah glanced at that small compartment where they'd found the child, she probably knew getting the ship to the ground was the only way to save her son.

Under such circumstances, maternal instincts could move mountains.

She was exceedingly beautiful Noah thought and felt it essential for some reason to commit her to memory for the boy's sake. With her long hair framing her face, unusual for Vulcans because the race almost always wore their hair in those unflattering bangs, her eyebrows were swept upward in typical Vulcan fashion. The most amazing blue eyes he had ever seen stared back at him in death. Noah realised her son had inherited them, recalling those tear-filled eyes that reached out and grabbed both their hearts when Genie discovered him.

Like her co-pilot and probably mate, Noah closed her eyes. Turning away from both corpses, he reached for his tricorder and aimed it in the direction of the controls. He knew what he was going to find even before the device gave up its analysis, having made an educated guess from the state of the controls what would be the result. The tricorder flashed its reading a second later and revealed the unpleasant truth. Even if he were able to power up the ship, the computer logs had been fried. What data it contained was just as lost to the world as the two people in this cockpit. There would be no revelations made today.

Continuing his analysis for anything that might provide a clue to who these lost souls were, Noah's search yielded nothing except a bronzed plaque on the wall in Vulcan lettering now pitted and covered in dust. Seleya's Heart, NSP 061947, Noah saw the translation on the tricorder display and immediately captured the data for upload to the Rose’s main computer when he returned to ship.

With any luck, when they reached a starbase, they would find the boy's family.

SHI'KAHR CITY
PRESENT

T'Khut stared at him through the darkened amber sky and Vin Tanner, who until this day had never set foot on Vulcan, stared back and became lost in her gaze. She seemed to look upon him as if he were a child returning to her, one lost in the wilderness for so long, had suddenly found his way home.

For so many years, Texas had been his home, and Genie and Noah Tanner had been his parents. It was the last thing she had said to him before she died, that he was a Tanner. Now, as a man, he realised why it was so important to her that he was given this identity because she understood Vulcans had a deeper connection to their world, beyond their biological origin. Their spirituality, something he was never able to grasp because none of it was taught to him, had kept him disconnected. Mary had tried to teach him, but she did so through the prism of an outsider, showing him doors but not the understanding of what lay beyond them.

As he piloted the ship through the skies across the Forge, he felt that Vulcan part of him banging down the walls of his carefully constructed persona. It was not a voice that spoke with Surak's logic, but something deeper, something so far back in time, he could almost see the verdant, lush world this had been before the Burning. For the first time, he thought of his mother and father, not the Tanners, but the two who had fled Vulcan because they wished to live a life before Surak, before chtia, before non-emotion.

What would they have made of him?

As a miasma of feelings tugged at the edge of his emotions, whispering to him in a voice he imagined was T'Khut, Vulcan's sister world, Vin felt the need to spend some time here. He wanted to run across its craggy surface and feel the hot sun burning across his back while facing the lemat-ya and wild sehlats. He wanted to endure in this harsh environment with nothing but the blade his father Noah had given him, the bowie passed down from generations of Tanners, right back to the days of the Alamo.

All this was swept away when he saw the city in the distance.

Even though it was small in comparison to the sprawling metropolis it would be 2300 years from now, Vin recognised it immediately. Surrounded by the ranges of which Seleya was its centre, the city was enclosed with a wide ring or arable land, irrigated by the ample water supply beneath the red earth. The urban centre was a collection of tall towers, constructed in shades of tan, brown and reddish stone, some of which would survive to his time. Vulcan at this stage in its development had achieved interplanetary travel, only recently reaching T'Khut to mine her surface for the precious iron minerals that Vulcan itself sorely lacked.

"We're approaching the city now," Vin announced to his comrades.

"Vin, bring her in low, we need to avoid been seen by the locals. I don't want them scanning this ship for any reason." Chris instructed as he made his way through the runabout to join him, Alex and Ezra, who was presently occupying the cockpit.

"Captain," Alex spoke up from her station at ops, "if you allow me, I can rig up the shields to generate a thoron field to give off a false signature. As far as they're concerned, they'd be detecting a ship that's using an FTL drive suited to their current technological levels."

"Do it," he gave his science officer a nod of approval. "Right now, the Vulcans are pre-warp, we do not want to give them any inkling we have a warp propulsion system."

"Captain," Ezra looked up at him, his expression grave. "I have located the source of the Borg signals and have sent that information to helm control. Judging by the activity around it, I am estimating the indigenous population may already be aware of the Borg threat already. There seems to be a great deal of mobilisation taking place around the area."

"Damn," Chris cursed hoping for a covert approach but supposed that was always going to be a long shot. "We'll just have to figure it out as we go."

Closing in on the city, Chris saw through the cockpit window, the Cimarron dropping altitude with the ground gradually rising to meet them. Even though the night was falling fast, Chris could see fields of gold, green and red, indicating the different crops being grown. He recognised the pastures of flatroot and pel-taruk that was still being cultivated, no matter how sophisticated the civilisation had become. In the future, these agricultural belts would be protected by weather shields, to prevent crop damage from Vulcan's harsh climate, but now they were exposed and subject to the heat and dust storms ruling this world.

Four short beeps from the operational station drew his attention to his science officer who looked up just in time to make eye contact.

"Captain, I've initiated the thoron fields. As far as the Vulcan authorities are concerned, if they detect us, we're just another private vessel returning to the city. I manage to tap into their mainframe to pull a local registration number just in case."

"Good work," Chris nodded in approval, grateful her Class 1 programming skills could be put to such good use.

"Hell."

Chris raised his eyes at Vin's curse and realised there was no longer any need to trace the Borg signal. Through the cockpit window of the Cimarron, they could see the columns of smoke rising into the evening sky as if signal fires had been lit to lead them straight to the Collective. While Chris could not see what was happening on the ground from this distance, he had no doubt the chaos that was being created by the Borg incursion.

"Oh my God," Alex whispered.

"Get on comms!" Chris ordered, "I want to hear what's going on down there."

Alex nodded mutely as her fingers flew hastily over the ops display, accessing the runabout's communications array to pick up all signals being transmitted at this time. Less than a second later, the runabout's interior exploded with a burst of static followed by numerous voices overlapping each other, with one thing in common. They were all terrified.

"...we need assistance! They're coming!"

"....weapons are useless! They ..... shielding... unknown weapons...!"

"Help ua please! T'hossuth district has been ..... they're moving... V'Lotelk within the hour!"

"EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY! REPEAT! WE NEED EVACUATION IMMEDIATELY!"

The cacophony of frantic voices attracted the attention of everyone on board the runabout, save Surak who was thankfully unconscious thanks to Nathan's treatment of the lemat-ya poison in his system. Mary, Nathan and JD were soon standing at the doorway, and Chris had the absurd notion they all looked like people huddled around an old fashioned radio listening to some unfolding calamity because it was the only way to receive news during those ancient times. He supposed this was no different, and his jaw clenched picturing what destruction was being wrought in the city.

In the 24th century, they were barely holding their own against the Borg, what hope could these people have against the Collective?

"We've got to get down there!"

The Vulcan looked away from the Conn long enough for Chris to catch his gaze but that second was all the communication they needed for Chris to know, that if they did not act soon, Vin was going to do it whether or not he liked it. The Captain of the Maverick couldn't blame him, if this were Earth, Chris would be no less insistent on taking action without further delay.

"Chris, we have to be exceedingly careful how we tread here," Mary warned, understanding the heated emotions running through all of them, but caution had to be exercised.

"Forgive me Mary," JD said suddenly, not one to speak out of turn but he felt compelled to. It tore him a part having to say what he intended to, but the last few seconds had unfolded a truth they had yet to grasp and while he felt heart ache with anguish, it was his duty to tell the others, to make them aware of his realisation, even if they might have an awareness of it themselves.

"We can't worry about what happens tomorrow. People down there need our help now. Vulcan was never meant to fall to the Borg. If we don't stop it here, it doesn't matter what happens to the future because the Borg will have a two thousand year headstart on us. When we get home, we may find they have gotten so far ahead of us they'll be unstoppable or worst yet, have assimilated the entire galaxy.”

The possibility of such an outcome was more than terrifying, it was entirely possible.

As JD's words of doom sunk into their minds, Chris realised this situation went far beyond retrieving Buck and Julia, it even surpassed the protection of the timeline. What mattered was the civilisations that would never come to be if the Borg gained a foothold in this period, expanding outwards until finally they converged with their Delta Quadrant counterparts to create a monster no one could fight. Taking a deep breath, Chris knew the oath he had made when he became Captain of the Maverick, the oath they all took as Starfleet officers.

If the price for saving the galaxy were the one thousand lives he was responsible for, then Chris Larabee would pay it.

"JD's right," he said finally, meeting Mary's gaze. "No matter what happens to us, to the future we know, we have to stop the Borg here, by any means necessary. If we have to sacrifice the Federation and the timeline, then that's what has to happen. If we don't, the alternative will be a condemnation of the next hundred generations to Borg."

"Jesus," Nathan whispered, the number making the Captain's words sound even worse.

"Captain," Alex spoke up, glancing at Ezra who was the highest-ranking officer next to her, to gain his silent agreement, "whatever you decide, we're behind you, Sir. If you say this has to be done, then that's what we'll do. Every last one of us here," she swept her gaze across the cockpit, lingering briefly at Vin, who nodded at her in encouragement, "we'll die before we let the Borg take Vulcan."

"Good," Chris gave her a look of gratitude because what he was about to tell her, was something she would not at all like. If they failed in their efforts on the ground, he had one card to play, but it would ensure the Borg would never menace the future. "That's why I need you back on the Maverick."

"What?" Alex exclaimed in dismay. "Why?"

"Because," Chris said cooly, unable to believe the words were coming out of his mouth, "if we fail to stop the Borg on the planet, on my order, I want you to launch transphasic torpedoes and destroy the entire city, reduce it to radioactive ash if you must, but we are stopping the Borg here."

"Chris!" Mary gasped, and her shock was shared by Nathan. "You can't...."

Alex wanted to protest, unable to believe he was giving her this order. She made eye contact with both Vin and Ezra to see if they felt the same outrage, but neither showed any objection to Chris's extraordinary request and when it sunk in, Alex realised the Captain was right. If all else failed and they were unable to remove the Borg by any other means, this last resort had to be taken.

"We will try to get as many people to leave the city as we can," Chris explained further, so no one misunderstood the nature of the order. "We're not killing civilians who aren't assimilated but as much as I want Buck and Julia back, I know neither of them would want us to risk the lives of millions to rescue them. I'm sorry Ezra, I know I promised you we would get Julia back, but..."

"Captain, you need not explain," Ezra stopped him from going any further.

In the last few minutes, he had continued to listen to those terrified voices still being transmitted through the comms and knew as much as he loved Julia, she would not want to be the cause of all that fear. If there were a chance to save her, he would move heaven and earth to get her back, but if he had to let her go to save her, then Ezra could do that too. Julia would never be able to live with herself knowing her rescue had resulted in the assimilation of billions.

"If we destroy the city and the Borg," Mary spoke, still somewhat shocked that they were discussing this, but the logical part of her, the part married to Syan of Vulcan, knew this was the right choice. It was something he would have done himself if he were in Chris's shoes. "Then what? We can't stay on Vulcan, and we can't return to Earth."

Chris sucked in his breath, feeling his heart sink at what this would mean to him personally, it would mean he would never see Adam again, would never know how their drastic actions affected the timeline. Would Adam cease to be? Chris couldn't concern himself with such fears now, because it would only keep him from doing what he needed to.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, we've got to deal with the problem at hand."

"We will need the assistance of the locals Captain," Ezra pointed out. "The situation has deteriorated beyond our ability to contain it alone."

"Who can we ask for help?" Vin asked, wishing he knew more about Vulcan during this period in history to offer some constructive advice, being the only Vulcan in the group.

"We can ask my father."

The voice who spoke belonged to no one from the 24th century. Surak was standing in the rear compartment of the runabout, having heard not only the discussion being carried out in the cockpit but the frightened voices from the communication system. While much of his rescuers' words were beyond his understanding, what did not escape the young man was the terrible danger his people were facing.

"Oh hell," Chris groaned and shot Nathan a look of accusation as to why the boy was conscious.

"Hey, don't look at me, the kid's tough." Nathan returned promptly defending himself. “Sedatives and lemat-ya antivenin might have adverse effects on each other. “

“It’s alright,” the Captain sighed, deciding it was boon enough that Nathan was able to save him. Besides, they had been on a collision course with contaminating Surak’s future self the minute they laid eyes on him.

“We are not of Vulcan,” Chris admitted, looking the young man in the eye, “but we are here to help.”

This much Surak was able to determine from the conversation he’d overheard. Walking forward gingerly, still a little unsteady on his feet, he approached the cockpit and the people he knew looked like Vulcans but were not. They were Outliers. Pausing before the man who was clearly the leader, the young man swallowed and spoke with his chin raised.

"I don't know where you are from, but if you wish to help my people, then I will do what I can to assist you."

Darkness had settled over the city by the time the Away Team landed on the outskirts of Shi'Kahr.

The concentration of Borg activity was centred in the agrarian district of T'hossuth where it appeared the Collective was establishing a foothold to begin its spread through the rest of the city. Judging from the frantic transmissions overheard inside the runabout, it was clear the locals had no idea how to deal with the Borg. How could they? The enemy could infect them with nanites, robbing them of all will before turning them into drones.

Emerging through the tall stalks of a field of filavet, the Away Team paused at the bright bloom of amber sky refusing to be suppressed by night. Against the smoky canvas of orange, a swarm of smaller ships were flying over the centre of the district, attempting to end the Borg advance through aerial bombardment. The billowing clouds of smoke leading the Cimmaron here found its origins in the blazing inferno of buildings resulting from the artillery barrage. If there were any non-Borg lifeforms in the area, they would not be alive for much longer.

"My God," Mary gasped in horror at the destruction.

Chris shared her sentiment, his jaw clenching as his ice coloured eyes became dark with a smouldering anger.

Alex," Chris turned to his science officer, knowing she was not going to like his next order. "Get back to the Maverick. You know what I want done."

Alex's eyes widened, going so far as to open her mouth to protest until she remembered herself. As reluctant as she was to leave him or Vin down here, he was right. One of them had to be on the Maverick, and if it couldn't be the Captain, the duty fell to her. In Buck's absence, she was the acting First Officer, and to honour the memory of the friend whose place she was taking, Alex would do what Buck would have. "Aye Sir."

I'll be alright, she felt Vin's mind touch hers.

Alex raised her eyes to her husband, to her mate, and for a brief second, their gazes were locked in silent communication. She had no mental ability to speak of, but their marriage bond allowed her to feel him. She felt his assurance, his promise to be safe and to not sacrifice himself needlessly. Despite this, no matter what happened, they were still in each other's hearts for all time. A piece of Vin lived in her, just as he carried her inside him. It would survive either of their deaths.

You better be. I don't want to feel you die. Don't put me through that Cowboy.

Ain't gonna happen Darlin'.

Alex broke away first. The contact was seconds long for the others, but to Alex and Vin, it held a lifetime of promise. Facing the Captain once more, Alex decided she would do as ordered, but if it were blind obedience he wanted, he would get no such thing with her.

"Captain, I'll follow your orders without argument but," she swallowed thickly, meeting Chris Larabee with a will almost as stubborn as his own. "I am not going to sacrifice any of you while there is still the faintest chance of survival. Are we clear on that?"

Chris nodded with a slight smile, having similar arguments with Buck on numerous occasions when the Captain wanted to go where angels feared to tread. "Understood Commander, this isn't a kamikaze mission, but if worst comes to worst, we have to be prepared to risk it all."

"I understand," Alex nodded, and swept her gaze across the faces of the others, giving them a silent promise she would do everything she could to save them if she could.

Before she could reach her combadge, Chris had one more order to issue.

"Mary, you're going too."

"What?" Mary shot him a look. "Chris, you need me!"

"No," Chris shook his head, not intending to be unkind or remind her as her Captain, this was not up for negotiation. "I don't, and you need to go. Keeping the timeline safe is no longer a consideration. Making sure Vulcan remains free of Borg is. I believe this young man can help us with that," he nodded at Surak.

Surak still did not understand who these strangers were, but their determination to do everything it took to save his people was not lost on him. Even though they looked outwardly Vulcan, every instinct he had told him they were not of his world. Life beyond Vulcan was not an unknown concept. With the advent of interplanetary travel and the increase in technology, it was known the galaxy was populated, though so far, none had deigned to make contact.

"I will do what I can to help," Surak said quietly, giving the woman called Mary the same assurance she gave when she promised him his life would be saved. He had not forgotten her tender touch when he was burning with lemat-ya poison, soothing his brow and whispering words that might have come from T'Leia, his mother.

That was enough for Chris, and he eyed Mary again. Billy couldn't lose her. Adam was almost an adult, on the cusp of joining the Academy. If they halted the Borg advance today at the cost of their lives, that future could still happen. It was the other reason he needed Alex to be on the Maverick. If worse came to worse, if the Away Team could not make it back to the ship, then Alex would know how to get the crew back to the 24th century.

"Lieutenant, I need you to go. Please."

Mary's eyes glistened with tears of frustration, though they did not spill over onto her cheeks. She stared at him in accusation, hating him for pulling rank on her and hating herself because he was right. If anything happened to her, Billy would be alone, alone in a time period so far from his own it staggered belief. No, she couldn't let her son navigate such a world alone if they were forced to remain in this era.

"Aye Captain," she said quietly, averting her eyes, so he did not see how much his dismissal hurt. Starting to look away, she suddenly remembered something that had little to do with this abrupt departure. The memory made her forget her pain, and she closed the distance between them.

For a second, Chris thought she was leaning in to kiss him goodbye, which would not have been unwelcomed, but instead, she whispered softly in his ear. The words made his eyes widened, and he stared at her for a second, nodding slowly as the full implications of her statement sunk into his brain. The others looked at him in puzzlement, noting something in the exchange that was not the soulful farewell between two lovers.

"Are you sure?"

"In this era? Yes."

"If it comes to that, we'll use it," Chris answered. "Thank you, Mary."

"Be safe Chris," she replied finally, looking away before she succumbed to her emotions. Right now, she needed to be a Starfleet officer, not just the woman who loved Chris Larabee.

When it appeared, the Captain was not about to let them in on Mary’s revelation, Alex decided it was time to get moving. She needed no further goodbyes to be made with Vin when their mental contact was enough to serve the purpose. Besides, Alex had no intention of allowing any of the Away Team to die needlessly if it could be avoided, and with that thought in mind, it was easier for Alex to do what the Captain asked. Tapping the combadge, she spoke following the soft chirp.

"Maverick, come in. This is Lt. Commander Styles. Lock on to my signal and Lt. Travis and wait for my signal to begin transport."

Alex saw Chris nod in approval since none of them wished to expose Surak to transporter technology.

"Aye Commander," the familiar voice of Rain filled the air.

Nathan's chest swelled at hearing her, still remembering before all this had begun, he had proposed to the lovely transporter chief. After everything that had transpired since they first saw that singularity, it felt like a lifetime ago.

With that, Alex shifted her gaze back to the Captain. "We'll be waiting for your signal, Sir, don't make us come down and get you."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Chris gave the woman a little smile and saw her turn to Vin to give the helmsman a little wink before she and Mary turned away and headed towards the ship, retreating to the field of tall stalks surrounding the runabout.

Once they disappeared, Chris turned back to his Away Team. "Alright, let's get a move on. I need to see what's happening now."

 What was happening was nothing less than chaos.

The aerial bombardment had levelled the district. Buildings were reduced to smouldering piles of rubble. What structures still stood, did so on their last foundations. Trees were ablaze, those that weren't already reduced to charred stumps that is, and the streets were pockmarked with massive craters, while sidewalks were fissured and darkened with blast marks. Light poles crisscrossed the road as they lay across the ground, blown free from the discharges above. Meanwhile, a cloud of grey smoke meandered through the ruined streets, making the air near toxic.

"Jesus Christ," Vin swore, staring at the destruction in a mixture of horror and disgust.

"They have no idea this assault will have little or no impact on the Borg,," Ezra remarked, studying his tricorder to pinpoint the exact location of the Collective at this point.

"Where are all the people?" Surak asked, searching the conflagration for any signs of life. He knew this area, he had friends who lived in this district. Where were they now? The idea they might still be in this place horrified him.

"They're here," JD spoke up, using his own tricorder to conduct a different kind of scan. While Ezra was looking for the Borg, Surak's question had prompted him to search for survivors who might still be here. "Captain, I'm detecting one life sign twenty meters ahead."

Chris raised his chin immediately in the direction JD indicated and saw a section of road so severely damaged, the crater left behind had exposed the ruptured mouth of an underground pipe. It stood almost four feet high and was wide enough to offer refuge to anyone desperate enough to crawl into it. Despite being constructed by some kind of light rock, Chris had no doubt it would still collapse if struck directly.

"They might be hurt!" Nathan was already running towards it, paying little attention to the aerial attack still continuing overhead.

"Nathan, hold up goddamn it!" Chris ran after the healer who lost all good sense when he thought he had a patient to help.

Clutching his phase rifle, Chris ran across the debris-covered ground after the doctor heading towards the open mouth of the drain. He skirted the edges of what appeared to be a crashed vehicle, avoiding the wreckage that was still burning and exuding the noxious fumes of burning fuel and superheated metal. Nathan maintained his lead, reaching the open shaft of the drain in a matter of seconds, allowing nothing to deter him, not even the sounds of further explosion across the district, quaking the ground beneath his feet.

"Nathan hold up!"

Chris shouted again, and this time, the Captain of the Maverick exerted enough command in his voice to stop the healer from advancing further. Even if there was someone in need within that darkness, they were in the middle of a hostile environment. Just because this was Vulcan, it was by no means the Vulcan they knew and its people had yet to embrace the pacifistic ideology of their future counterparts.

Nathan put the brakes on, realising he was forgetting himself and sometimes his need to reach a patient overrode his common sense. Halting in front of the exposed section of the drain, he could smell the musty scent of fetid water. The opening was a ragged mess of fragmented rock, with debris piles littered across the entrance. Some of the rubble still smouldered from heat. Nathan realised as a hiding place, it was not much of one. A direct blast could collapse it easily.

"Sorry Captain," Nathan apologised sheepishly and approached the shaft with caution, consulting his tricorder at the same time. The display revealed one life sign, Vulcan. Glancing over his shoulder at Chris who would have preferred to go in first, Nathan faced front and allowed the darkness to envelop him. Through the glimmer of the tricorder's display, he could make out a shape in the location the device indicated, a few feet away from the entrance.

Nathan recognised the quick pants of someone who was shaking.

"Hey now, it's going to be okay," he spoke out, hoping his voice would be enough to draw them out. Remembering he was not alone and not wishing to crowd the person obviously hiding in fear, Nathan looked over his shoulder. "Captain, hold back."

"Nathan..." Chris started to protest.

"You're not going to be helping if you dog me all the way in."

Chris's spine stiffened at the inference he was dogging anyone and wondered if it would be a bad thing if he 'accidentally' shot his CMO In the ass.

Nathan took another step in, the way one would approach a frightened animal, and tried again. "We're here to help you. It's not safe to be here right now. You need to come out, I promise, we won't hurt you."

There was a slight pause in the outline of trembling shoulders before thee shadowy figure shifted a little as if trying to reach a decision but torn between the gamble of trusting a stranger or remaining safely hidden. When Nathan saw the person starting to crawl out, he guessed the choice had been the former. Stepping back so he wouldn't frighten them, it didn't take long for Nathan to discover the person crawling out of the rubble was not an adult, but rather a child.

The boy could not have been older than Billy, Mary's young son. He wore his hair worn long the same as Vin, though Nathan suspected it was not to conceal his pointed ears, and was covered in dirt and soot. Dark eyes stared at the healer fearfully and revealed the trauma he had clearly experienced by what he had seen this day. Nathan hoped he had not seen his family taken because that was too much for any child to witness. As it was, it was a minor miracle he had not also been assimilated. However, as soon as the thought crossed Nathan's mind, he knew it was because the Borg did not have access to a maturation chamber.

"Chris," Nathan gestured the Captain forward because the man had experience with children, not just his own but especially the young, anxious Vulcan kind.

Nathan's use of his name caught Chris by surprise and only when he came up behind the healer to see what the man was staring at, did he realise why Nathan had been so informal.

"Hello," Chris said gently, aware if they frightened the kid, he was going to jackrabbit down the shaft and they'd have to go after him. Considering the situation, they could not waste time trying to find him if he got lost in that maze. "I'm Chris, this is Nathan. What's your name?"

The boy didn't speak for a moment. He stared at them as if the words were lost inside of him and needed the effort to find.

"S...S'tash."

Chris's eyes widened and he instinctively looked over his shoulder at where Vin, JD, Ezra and Surak were, wondering if history was playing tricks at his expense. Groaning inwardly, he could imagine Mary's voice in his ear, warning him about timelines and altering future events, to say nothing about what those guys at the Temporal Bureau were going to put him through when he got home.

Facing front again, Chris Larabee looked at the young boy named S'tash, the future founder of the Romulan Star Empire.

Vin had been seconds away from bolting after Chris, not about to let his best friend and Captain go off anywhere alone, without him watching the man's back when Vin caught a glimpse of Ezra's grave expression as he studied his tricorder. JD was sticking close to Surak, having been given that order because Chris believed the young Vulcan would be more comfortable being shadowed by someone closer to his own age. The ships flying across the sky were continuing to rain down fiery destruction on the area, misbelieving it would halt the Borg advance.

Ezra's expression indicated they were not in the least bit successful.

Vin cast a quick glance at which direction Chris had gone and was satisfied the Captain was okay for the moment, before turning back to Ezra. "How bad?"

"Bad enough," Ezra lowered his tricorder, and Vin glanced at the display to see the growing number of blips across the small screen to indicate how many new Borg were being created. "Master Surak, how many people live in this area?"

Surak thought quickly and recalled the last time he had visited the district. It was during the Festival of the Moons. There were so many new faces; it was difficult to count. Not everyone who lived in T'hossuth were farmers. Thanks to the prosperity of the district, there were merchants, healing stations and schools to support the rural community.

"At least a hundred, perhaps even a hundred and fifty."

Vin's eyes widened at that number, and he turned to Ezra, "Jesus Christ, you don't think?"

Almost as if answering his question, a dozen beams of crimson from ocular attachments, pierced through the veil of smoke. The thin red lines crisscrossed each other as the Borg appeared through the greyish clouds, having detected the Away Team and quickly reaching the conclusion the new arrivals were materials they could use. The handful of Borg in the lead were fully assimilated, but it didn't take long for Vin to realise that the others were only half-formed because he recognised the Vulcans among them.

Of course, none of that was as bad as recognising who was leading them. Julia.

Vin shot Ezra a look and saw the Security Chief was frozen, understandable because the man wasn't seeing a Borg, he was seeing the woman he loved. The Vulcan tried to imagine what would be running through his mind if he were to see Alex in this state and abandoned it because it was simply too terrible. If it were not for their familiarity with the woman, Julia would have been unrecognisable in her Borg shell.

Ezra thought seeing her on the Maverick had been an ordeal, but it was nothing compared to this. The transformation into Borg was complete now. She was bald that glorious copper coloured hair he loved so much was gone. He could see her scalp and the thick veins of black running across her mottled skin. She had lost her forearm to the typical Borg prosthetic. Her remaining eye, the one not gouged out to make way for an ocular implant, no longer burned with green fire.

"Julia..." Ezra whispered slowly, a little part of himself dying at the sight of her this way.

Vin wished he could have allowed Ezra the time to process this latest horror, but he couldn't. They'd hope to get here while the Borgs's numbers were relatively low, but that was fast spiralling out of control. Their weapons would halt a few of them, but it wouldn't take long for the Collective to adapt. The best way to fight the Borg at present was to contain them and deny them any new drones.

"JD," Vin called out the young man who was looking to them for orders. "Get Surak to the Captain."

"Right," JD nodded and gestured for the young Vulcan to follow him. "Come on!"

Surak did not argue. The memory of what had taken place in the Forge was replaying itself in his head, and it was worse now than it was then. At the time he only suspected the peril these creatures posed to his person, now he knew.

"Ezra," Vin grabbed the Security Chief's arm. "We've got to regroup!"

Ezra snapped out of his momentary lapse, blinking rapidly as the facade of the consummate gambler and security chief descended over his face once more. "Yes, of course. I apologise. We need to get to the Captain.”

As both men turned to run, Ezra knew he turned a corner. Before this, he wrestled with whether or not he'd have the strength to let Julia go if she could not be saved. After this, there was no longer any question of what had to be done.

If she had to die to be free, he would do that for her. No matter what the consequences to his heart.

There was just the tiniest fraction of a nanosecond when Chris Larabee considered doing the unthinkable. 

Staring into the frightened face of the small child before him, Chris saw a boy who could have been no older than Adam, if his son had lived. Even though the course of S’tash’s life had yet to unfold, Chris knew every aspect of it from the history books. Like all men given the opportunity to affect significant change, an idea flared in Chris’s mind so utterly abhorrent; he scarcely believed he was capable of entertaining such a dark thought. 

In manhood, this child would become a trusted friend of Surak, a friendship that might see its origins this terrible night. When that same friendship was destroyed, the resulting fallout would see the fracture of Vulcan society for all time. To say nothing about how this boy's disastrous first contact with extraterrestrials, tonight's occurrence notwithstanding, would turn Vulcan xenophobia into Romulan superiority. 

If he were ended tonight, there would be no Earth-Romulan war. Millions would be spared. One-hundred years of bitter hostility would never eventuate. The Alpha Quadrant would be a great deal safer. So many possibilities presented themselves to Chris Larabee in a second of time before he remembered himself and then the Captain of the Maverick crushed the idea mercilessly.

No, Chris was not going to sacrifice a child for all the good intentions in the world. No cause was worth discarding human decency.

If Nathan recognised the name uttered by the Vulcan survivor, the doctor did not indicate it. Even if he did, Nathan would ignore it with far more speed than Chris had just done. Nathan didn't see the history of the Alpha Quadrant, he saw a child needing help, and as a healer, it was the only thing that mattered. It was an excellent rule to follow, and Chris would do well to take the doctor’s lead.

"Come on, S'tash," Chris reached out to the boy, extending his hand so Chris could lead him out of the crater. "We've got to get you out of here." 

Reassured by his gentle coaxing, S’tash took the hand offered, and Chris noticed his small fist was trembling when he covered the boy’s hand with his own. As he emerged, Chris saw S’tash’s eyes surveying the ruined landscape around them. He reminded Chris of a frightened animal, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

“Do you have family around here?” Chris asked, hoping this boy was not entirely alone after the Borg’s invasion of his home. 

S’tash opened his mouth to speak but then remembered what happened to Norath. The last time he’d seen his sister was when she was climbing into the skimmer. After that, things had gone very bad and their mother...

Stash blinked, and hot tears ran down his cheeks, leaving streaks against his soot-covered face. His gaze dropped to the ground as if he were ashamed of being seen shedding tears like an infant. 

Chris ached at the tragedy he saw in the boy’s eyes, remembering Adam’s tears when he fell over or was upset at something that seemed like the end of the world to a small child. Seeing S’tash weep for the family he lost, affected Chris just as strongly.

“S’tash,” he rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “if they’re here, we’ll find them.” 

S’tash shook his head, gesturing to the site where the skimmer carrying his mother and their neighbours had crashed. Both Chris and Nathan exchanged glances when they realised what he was staring at, the same thought crossing their minds at the sight of the wreckage. It was nothing more than a twisted hulk of burning metal, still smouldering with noxious fumes and burning in places. If anyone on board survived the initial crash, Chris doubted they would have escaped the fireball that followed. 

And S’tash knew it too. 

“I’m sorry S’tash,” Chris said kindly, having no other words of comfort to offer and refusing to lie when it was plain as day S'tash knew better. “We’ll get you somewhere safe and figure things out later." 

"CAPTAIN!" 

All three of them reacted to the sharp cry, turning immediately in its direction to see JD Dunne, with Surak flanking him, running towards them. The two emerged through the smoke, leaving behind the phaser fire flaring through the grey mist as weapons fire was exchanged. Chris saw no sign of Ezra and Vin, feeling a surge of alarm at the absence of both and told himself if they did not appear in the next ten seconds, he was going after them himself. 

He was losing no more of his friends to the damn Borg. 

"Nathan, keep an eye on S'tash," Chris ordered and sprinted up the uneven slope of the crater to meet JD and Surak when they reached him. 

Crimson beams of light pierced through the smoke, revealing the situation without JD needing to explain further. The Borg were coming and judging by the number of thin strobes, there were more than thirteen. Through the swirls of grey, Chris could make out faint silhouettes moving forward steadily, giving warning to anyone who saw them, it was time to run for their lives. While he couldn't see Vin and Ezra as he looked past JD and Surak, he could hear the familiar discharge of weapons to know they were not far behind. 

"They're coming!" JD came to a halt, panting hard as he forced the words out, unaware it was a somewhat redundant report. "Captain, there's a lot of them coming. More than what we originally thought and we saw Julia..."

JD couldn't finish, but he didn't need to. Chris could see the horror on his face as the youth struggled to maintain his composure. 

"Captain, she's almost all Borg." 

Chris glanced back at the smoke, trying to see Ezra and wondering briefly how his Security Chief would have reacted to the sight when Surak spoke, similarly breathless. 

"What are these demons?" 

Demons? Chris straightened up and looked at the boy, finding such words from a Vulcan jarring before he remembered this culture still believed in a pantheon of gods at this time in their history. "Not demons," Chris answered grimly. "But just as bad." 

It was not entirely a lie. Like biblical demons so prolifically described in literature and holo films, the Borg did possess a person's body, using not some satanic spirit but nanites just as coldly malevolent. They took free will and crushed it underfoot until the mind beneath it was either broken forever or lost for good. He thought of Julia, unable to imagine what Ezra must be feeling at this moment. For his part, remembering that spirited young woman who held his ship together with 'spit and baling wire' as she once put it, encased in Borg machinery was more than Chris could stand. 
 
Another loud burst of phaser fire, closer this time, drew Chris's attention and he looked away from Surak, just in time to see Vin and Ezra emerging through the smoke. Both were alternating between running and shooting, allowing each other to widen the gap between themselves and the enemy while continuing to lay down suppressing fire. Ezra and Vin were the best marksmen on the Maverick and each shot they fired met its mark. More and more Borg tumbled to the ground, but even Chris knew their skills weren't going to be enough. 

"Get back to the Cimarron!" Chris ordered JD, aware the scope of this fight had grown beyond their initial goal of securing the errant Borg from the Corrizo. They were like an infestation, growing out of control fast, but Chris wasn't ready to employ his scorched earth tactic yet. As much as he loathed to engage the locals, he needed to. They had to be told sending more forces to fight the Borg would only provide the Collective with more bodies for assimilation. 

Knowing better than to question his Captain, JD motioned Surak to follow as he descended the slope to join Nathan and the newest survivor they had rescued from the rubble. 

In the meantime, Chris raised his own weapon, firing at the thickest part of the Borg advance to give his two officers the breathing room needed to escape. The Collective would sweep across the entire area, capturing any stragglers not yet assimilated to continue their expansion. Bolts of energy flew past Vin and Ezra, striking the first Borg he saw in the chest. He prayed silently; it wasn't Julia because there was simply not enough time to make sure. Only when the Borg collapsed to the ground, its body jerking about spasmodically as the phaser beam fried its mechanics, did Chris see to his relief and then to his shame, it was a Vulcan he did not know. 

"Captain," Ezra reached Chris first, unwittingly providing him with the same report JD gave him a second ago. "We must withdraw. By my tricorder readings, they have assimilated at least half the population of this district. That is almost seventy-five people. We need reinforcements." 

"No!" Chris shook his head just as he fired again, this time allowing Vin to get himself to safety. "We can't keep sending people after them, we're only going to help increase their numbers. We've got to contain them." 

The Captain of the Maverick paused a moment as he fired again, taking advantage of the rotation modulation of phaser frequency while he still could. The Borg's ability to adapt was swift, and it wouldn't be long before their phasers were no longer effective. That was precisely how long they had to get clear before they were swept up by the Collective and added to the Borg's twisted menagerie. 

Two more Borg fell to the ground as he continued his assault, their machinery attached to their torso short-circuiting with the power overload. They collapsed like puppets whose strings were cut, and Chris reminded himself once again, everyone he killed was someone being trapped against their will. It was the only comfort he could take in any of this, was the hope their deaths would be a release. 

"Captain, we must go," Ezra tugged at his arm, seeing more and more Borg appeared out of the smoke as if they were being born right out of the fire. 

Chris agreed and was about to turn when a face emerged out of the mists. All thought drained from his mind with shock taking its place. The barrel of the gun dipped slightly, corresponding by the expression of utter horror on Chris's face. 

Since this began, Chris accepted the reality of Buck Wilmington's assimilation. It was not a pill easily swallowed, but he forced himself to do so because he needed clarity to get Buck back. Buck was his oldest friend, his brother in every way that mattered. When Buck met Sarah for the first time, he'd told Chris not to screw it up because Sarah was the one. Buck was in the room with him the night Adam was born, slapping him across the back with jubilance, seconds after Chris was told he had a son. After their deaths, it was Buck who made sure Chris didn't walk out of an airlock in despair, reminding him that life went on, no matter how hard it was to live without them. 

Without Buck, he would not be Captain of the Maverick. 

Yet knowing Buck was assimilated was nothing like the hell of seeing it. 

Standing taller than all the other drones, only Chris's familiarity with Buck allowed him to recognise the former First officer of the Maverick immediately. Gone was the dark hair. What remained in its place was pasty, grey scalp mottled with patches and running with dark veins, making Chris think of something dead left beneath a rotting log for too long. Chris imagined the nanite maggots running through his friend's body and felt his stomach curdle with revulsion. Buck’s face, partially concealed by that damned ocular implant, was a wax mask, showing no expression. 

Everything that was his friend was gone. The broad grin, the laugh that came from a man with a heart as big as a sun, was lost beneath Borg programming. The pain cut through Chris like a knife, and he closed his eyes mourning the brother who was the only one brave enough to tell him some truth he couldn't bear to hear, with a voice that made you believe he was a better friend than you deserved.

God. Buck, I'm sorry, Chris thought with anguish. I'm so sorry I let this happen to you. 

Without any awareness he was doing it, Chris Larabee raised his phase rifle and took aim squarely at Buck Wilmington.

He didn't care what happened to him tomorrow, didn't care if Inez or JD never forgave him for what he was about to do. Chris just couldn't allow Buck to continue to suffer like this, trapped in a prison of flesh, forced to watch through his own eyes as the Collective plundered whole civilisations using his body. He just couldn't. God help him, if Chris couldn't save Buck, then he was going to free him from this nightmare. 

"Captain," Ezra saw what he was doing. "What...."

Ezra never had a chance to finish the statement because Chris pulled the trigger. 

Even as the blast escaped the barrel of the phase rifle, Chris felt a little part of him die. It did not help time had slowed to prolong the excruciating moment before impact. Chris did not think about the friend of his youth, the brother who shared his pain, and the loyal lieutenant who stood by him no matter what. He thought of the friend who needed to be saved by the sweet release of death. 

The energy bolt struck the centre of Buck's new armour and then dissipated. 

Chris uttered a frustrated cry as Buck shook off the phaser blast and kept coming. Cursing Fate for the bitch she was, robbing him of the chance to do this much for Buck, Chris was gripped with fury. He fired again, refusing to give up because Buck deserved salvation. 

"Captain, they've adapted!" 

Ezra grabbed his arm and tried to get him to lower the weapon, but Chris couldn't give up and continued to shoot even as the distance between them and the Borg narrowed. The phaser fire did nothing to halt the march and Buck continued to lead the charge forward, coming towards them like an army of wind up toys.

"CHRIS!"

Vin's voice so rarely spoken with such demand, made Chris snap out of his present mental state. The Vulcan had wrenched the weapon from his hand. "We have to go NOW." 

"I can't..." Chris glanced at Buck and then faced Vin with anguish in his eyes. 

"I know," Vin understood all too well. "But we still have to go." 

This time, Vin didn't give him a choice and grabbed Chris by the arm, more than prepared and fully capable of carrying the Captain of the Maverick if it became necessary. Fortunately, such drastic action was not needed because Vin saw Chris understood this was how it had to be. Without a further word, but with misery etched across his face, Chris did the only thing they could in light of what was coming at them. 

They ran. 

THE CITY OF JALELYL

Where they had come from, he did not know.

Within his inner sanctum, far away from the prying eyes of the generals, ministers and various courtiers who served him, his meditation had been interrupted by a new invasion, though this one was of the like he never experienced before. Usually, when he heard the voices of others, they were a cacophony of chaotic chatter overlapping each other, like the beat of a thousand drums, pounding to their own rhythm. Throughout the years, he learned to banish them to the background, so his own thoughts weren't disrupted. Their distant rumble was almost comforting, the way white noise soothed the brain. 

What invaded him now was not at all like that. 

The new voices his mind felt strangely mechanical. He could hear them all speaking, but they did not talk with the discordant sounds of many, but like an orchestra working in harmony. These drums did not pound against each other, their rhythm worked in concert and could almost be considered pleasing if one found appeal in the music of machinery working in synchronicity. What was even more intriguing, despite its mechanical nature, there was an organic feel to it as well. Fascinated, he stretched out his mind, moving past the wall of discordant sounds to find its source and heard one word speaking louder than all others. 

Collective. 

Before he could grasp it fully, to follow the consciousness floating about the aether, gaining his attention by its power and indifference, a more physical interruption penetrated his meditation. The translucent walls of his chamber solidified once more, becoming matter around him. The sound, an insistent rapping against the great bronzed door of his private sanctuary, echoed like a gong and he bristled with annoyance, making a silent promise whoever was behind it had better have a good reason for the interruption.

Unfolding his long legs, he rose to his feet above the demi-cotton rug he had been sitting on and reached for the robe draped across the back of the upholstered chair nearby.

"Come!"

The door swung open as Sudoc of Vulcan pulled the fabric over his shoulders and saw it was Basha, his chief adviser. The man always seemed fixed in position ready to grovel, making Sudoc wonder if he was born this way. Of course, Basha had managed to remain one of his advisers for a good decade without being killed, so the man must be rather good at it. Following Basha was Sorval, a trusted military aide who stayed in his employ by doing the exact opposite, telling the truth no matter how unpalatable it was. On this occasion, the emotions radiating from both men ranged from confusion to opportunity, which of course piqued Sudoc’s interest. 

"We apologise for interrupting your meditation, but General...."

"Sire," Sorval spoke up abruptly, having no patience with Basha's prattle when the situation was urgent by his reckoning. "Something is happening in Shi'Kahr." 

Sudoc's jaw clenched, feeling a surge of hatred for that name, the city and those who lived in it. His grand plan for being crowned War Master of All constantly fell to ruin because he could not conquer one city. One city!

"Explain." His tone indicated he wanted the intelligence to come to him quickly, without obfuscation or irrelevance. 

"Our orbital sentries have detected some sort of battle taking place in the city. I contacted our agents in the city, and it appears all of Shi'Khar is being mobilised for combat. It started in the T'hossuth district but appears to be spreading. The Law Guardians have evacuated the area, but there are reports of casualties growing in number with each hour. At last report, Shi'Kahr air defence had mobilised and started bombarding the area." 

"Who are they fighting?" 

"Our agents are not certain. The reports cannot be relied upon because so few have escaped to provide accurate intelligence.” Sorval eyes met Sudocs, revealing the concern the enemy laying waste to Shi'Kahr might be someone they should be wary of provoking. "From all accounts, however, anyone who goes to confront this enemy on foot does not return. It is why they resorted to an aerial assault." 

Sudoc did not speak for a moment, because after long last, taking Shi'Kahr was a possibility. For too long that city had stood against it, it's clan leaders and generals adept enough to repel any attack by his forces. If Shi'Kahr was this vulnerable than it was an opportunity he could not afford to waste, and would not. His desire to claim the whole of Vulcan as his own had been prevented by one rebel city, but it seemed the Gods had chosen to help him reach his destiny. 

The Gods who called themselves the Collective.

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