SIX YEARS AGO

Chris Larabee woke up with his nose in puke.

The assault on his still functioning olfactory senses by the acrid stench of a partially digested and then regurgitated meal he did not remember eating, was sharp enough to force his eyelids open. Sniffing the pillow and noting the mustard coloured smear on one corner Chris tried to squint away the visual overload, as light poured through the window into his dark bedroom. 

Everything was too damn bright, from the glare of the sunshine penetrating the atmospheric shield protecting Utopia Planitia colony from the harsh Martian climate, to the dance of dust particles in the air. Rolling away from the light, Chris had no intention of facing the world and prepared to return to the cold dark of slumber again. If reality could not be drowned in alcohol, then an endless sleep would do just as nicely. 

The chime of his front door told him he was about to get neither. 

Uttering a muffled series of groans through his pillow, the insistent chirps at the doors refused to be muted. Whoever was out there, was not going away. Well, he sure as fuck wasn't getting up. They could press that door panel until kingdom come, but Chris wasn't putting up with callers if he didn't want to. Even if his head throbbed, his mouth tasted of sick and his bed smelled like a gutter, this was where he was staying, Fuck anyone who thought differently. 

When the door ceased its annoying racket, Chris felt some satisfaction knowing he outlasted his attempted visitor, and could now suffer his hangover in peace. 

His victory was temporary.

The hiss of a door told Chris he had won nothing. 

This time, Chris sat up groggily, faced with the unhappy realization someone was in his house. The sweat and puked stained sheets clung to his skin as he blinked a bleary eye through the open door of the bedroom, trying to see his intruder. When the shadows moving against the wall confirmed he wasn't alone, the First Officer of the Rutherford got to his feet, almost tripping over the empty bottle of whiskey lying against the carpeted floor. Clad only in his shorts, sporting weeks of growth on his face, Chris surveyed the room and tried to remember the last 24 hours. 

It was a blur. 

In fact, everything for the last four months was hazy. Nothing held definition since Chris learned Sarah and Adam had died. Time seemed to have lost its meaning and his days were spent in this house, the same one his family inhabited, the one he spent so little time in because the Rutherford wasn't made for families. Sarah and Adam had built a life here with friends who now mourned them, waiting for the day he became Captain.. At the memorial, the friends came to him, offering him their condolences, because a funeral required bodies and there wasn't enough of Sarah and Adam to fill a coffee cup, let alone a coffin. 

He'd retreated into this house, clinging to it because within these walls, he almost tricked himself into believing they were still in the world, not gone for all time.

"Jesus Christ."

Chris looked up and saw Buck Wilmington staring at him from the doorway. Buck's expression was a mixture of shock, disgust and pity, Chris didn't know which stood out more and honestly, didn't really care. 

"What are you doing here?" He croaked, his throat felt hoarse because he'd hardly spoken to anyone in weeks. 

"You were supposed to report to the Rutherford a week ago," Buck came towards him, "Captain Soval asked me to come here to find out where you were before he had to put it in your jacket."

Chris blinked. The Rutherford. That's right, he was due back weeks ago. He was supposed to get to Deep Space Nine to rendezvous with the ship, but hadn't made his connection on the USS Sakharov. "I'm not going." 

"Yes, you are," Buck stomped up to him and grabbed him by the arm, taking a moment to survey the room and its condition before reaching Chris. 

The state of it told him just what Chris Larabee had been up to these four months, and Buck cursed he was unable to get back to the core systems before this. Serving as the Science Officer on the Nimitz kept him on the rim with infrequent trips to Earth. The last time he had been back was during the funeral with a few short weeks spent on Mars before it. Even then, Buck suspected it wasn't enough. 

When Captain Soval contacted him, Buck's worst fears were realized, and he took a temporary leave from the Nimitz to deal with the situation. As it was, Buck was somewhat astonished the Vulcan Captain had opted to take this route instead of kicking Chris's behaviour further up the chain. Then again, even those logical bastards were capable of showing heart on occasion. Nevertheless, Buck wasn't about to let Chris sink his career, not when a captaincy was so close. 
 
"Jesus, you smell like you've been living in a Klingon outhouse," Buck flinched at the reek of him, ignoring the dried crust of vomit on the man's chin. 

"I said, no!" Chris wrenched free. "I'm not going!"

"The hell you aren't!" Buck grabbed his arm again and towed him towards the shower. The man's inability to stop him told Buck just how hungover Chris was. 

"I don't have to do anything! Sarah and Adam are DEAD! I don't have to do shit!"

"Oh no, you don't!" Buck cut him off. "You don't get to say their names when you're stinking of puke and Christ knows what else! You don't get to use them as an excuse for your self-pity! Yeah they're gone, and none of us can imagine what you must be going through, but that doesn't give you the right to make a mockery of their deaths by turning into...whatever the fuck this is! I will not stand for it, do you hear me? Sarah was your wife, but she was my friend too, and she wouldn't want you to throw your life away like this."

"It's my choice!" 

"No, it's the choice of the liquor you've been poisoning your brain with for the last four months! You're doing everything you can to avoid the pain and rotting your brain in the process. Ever since I've known you, the only thing you ever wanted to be, is a starship Captain. Thanks to Sarah, she made you want something else, but getting your own ship, that's never changed. Sarah knew that, and she accepted it even though she never wanted a life in Starfleet. She didn't follow you around from ship to ship, making a home in space or some colony world because she was so damn fond of starship travel! She put up with it because she loved you and she knew you'd make one hell of a captain someday! Don't piss it all away just because you can't face her and Adam being gone!" 

Without giving Chris further chance to protest, he shoved his best friend into the shower and turned on the water, making sure it was set for cold since that was what Chris needed right now, an icy dose of reality. Chris stumbled against the tiled floor, his hangover too intense and his blood like sludge in his veins, to be able to do much else. Before he could get to his feet again, he was hit with a spray of icy cold water. 

"FUCK!"

Chris just about jumped up as he struggled to get away from the water, soaking him to the bone. The sting of cold was like a bolt of electricity to the brain, awakening every sluggish nerve in his body. As he wiped the water from his eyes and struggled to get up, and not slip on the wet tiles and fall on his ass, Chris heard Buck's words through the pounding in his head, and each one spoken was another jolt to the system he could not ignore. 

"I was willing to let you mourn for as long as you needed to because I knew how much you loved them, but this isn't mourning, this is self-destructing. Other people have lost their families too, but they don't go to shit like you have. They pick up, and they move on because that's life, Chris. It isn't easy, and the pain doesn't vanish, but you can't let it be the reason you break. You're the toughest son of a bitch I know, you can get through this. You just have ....."

"I DON'T KNOW HOW!" Chris shouted, furious at Buck's words, mostly because all of it was true. It wasn't fair any of it. If anyone was supposed to die, it was him! Not Sarah and Adam! Being a Starfleet Officer, death was always a risk. Space wasn't all beauty and wonder, it was dangerous. It had a dozen ways to kill you. Chris accepted that. What he had not been prepared for in any shape or form, was the possibility that his family might die first. 

Chris slid to the floor of the ceiling, burying his face in his hands. The sobs he had been holding back for so long, escaped him in torrents as fierce as the spray raining down on him from above. Letting his hair droop around in soaked ringlets, he wept for the girl he met outside that teahouse, the mother of his child, the little boy who would look at him and make him feel like he was the centre of the universe with just a smile. 

How would he ever do without them?

Buck lowered himself to the floor next to the shower cubicle, reaching for Chris's shoulder and squeezing hard to remind his friend, no his brother, he was here, and this was something Chris didn't have to go through alone. 

"I don't know how to go on without them," Chris whispered. "I can't see life any other way." 

"I know,' Buck said with a sigh, no expert at this himself. "But you start small, you take one step and then another and just keep taking them until you’re going somewhere. There's no magic cure, I won't lie to you about that, and you're smart enough to know it would be bullshit if I tried. All I can say is one step at a time, don't think about tomorrow, just get through the hour and then the day."

When Chris raised his bloodshot eyes to Buck, the big man added. "I've got ya back, no matter what Chris, I promise." 

Chris stared through the cockpit window of the Cimarron, thinking how Buck's promise had saved him. 

As T'hossuth continued to burn beneath them as the runabout lifted off the still green field they had set down earlier, Chris tried to see through the smoke covering the district in a grey shroud. With numb despair, Chris knew he was unable to keep the same promise to Buck. Somewhere down there, the man who saved him, who raised him up from the lowest moment in his life and helped him realize his dreams of captaincy was trapped in a prison of cybernetic implants. 

And Chris couldn't even save him by killing him. 

"Chris, where are we headed?" Vin barked from the pilot seat.

"Raise our shields and take us out of the city for the minute," Chris answered, snapping out of his fugue because there was simply no time for him to be mired in regret. He might not be able to save Buck, but the rest of his crew needed him to pull his head out of his ass. "We need to figure out the best way to deal with this problem." 

"Gotcha," Vin answered, and Chris felt the deck heave as the cockpit window showed the change in direction even as Vin's hands flew across the controls. Entering the small space of the cockpit, he leaned past JD who was in the co-pilot seat to squeeze Vin's shoulder, drawing the Vulcan's attention. 

"Thanks, Vin," Chris met his eyes. "Thanks for what you did back there." 

"There ain't nothing to thank me for Chris," Vin thought about the First Officer who was his friend too. He hadn't liked dragging Chris away from doing what needed to be done for Buck, but like the rest of his race, he could be pragmatic. "I'm sorry we weren't any help to Buck." 

"Me neither," Chris sighed, feeling the anguish well up inside of him again and notice JD flinch a little. The kid said nothing but Chris knew JD was also grieving for Buck. The Captain patted him on the shoulder and JD responded by giving Chris a look of gratitude for his empathy. 

"Captain," Ezra said quietly, understanding Chris's state of mind all too well. He'd been faced with the same horror when he saw Julia after her transformation into Borg. Even now, he was struggling to cope with the reality she might already be lost, and like Chris, the most merciful thing he could do if he couldn't retrieve her was to free her. "What are your orders?"

Chris sucked in his breath and looked up at his Away Team. Vin was facing front again, occupied with gaining altitude. Nathan was cleaning up some of the minor scrapes and bruises young S'tash sustained during his hideout in the sewer. JD was ensuring the Cimmaron was not detected by local sensors, while Ezra was dealing with Surak.

"Our objective is no longer to preserve the timeline. We'll minimize the damage if we can, but our primary goal will be the complete removal of the Borg from this planet." 

Chris decided if they ever got back to the 24th century, he'd tell the Department of Temporal Investigations what they could go do with themselves if they questioned his actions today. 

“We can't let the locals send any more people down there to fight the Borg. The more people they send, the more they're allowing those numbers to expand." 

Surak knew these people were Outliers, but the Captain's words confused him, even if he understood the urgency of the man's warning. He did not understand the full nature of the enemy, but judging by the apparent fear in which these people spoke of them, Surak could appreciate the danger. 

"Surak, your father is in authority, will he be able to help us?" 

Surak straightened up and said with some pride. "He is a Council Elder and a general." 

"Good enough," Chris nodded. "We need to speak to him. The beings below are called the Borg, they can infect anyone who touches them with microscopic machinery that transforms any person into one of them." Chris had no wish to go into too much detail. The less information Surak knew about the Borg, the better. He only needed to know they were dangerous. "That's what they've done to the people below. Their technology is extremely advanced, and they are difficult to stop. If we deny them new bodies, they can be contained. Otherwise, they'll overrun the entire planet." 

Surak's eyes widened. "You've seen this?" 

"More times than we would like to count Master Surak," Ezra admitted, recalling the state of Lysia when the Maverick first arrived at Deep Space Five and more recently, what it cost him and the Captain personally. What it might still cost them. 

"We need to see your father, explain the situation to him," Chris continued. "Do you know where he will be right this minute?" 

"I cannot say for certain," Surak admitted unsurely. "If the city is under threat, he would be in the Council Hall with the other clan leaders. I have not been home since I began the Rite of Tal'oth."

"Captain, our sensors should be able to locate him using Master Surak's DNA signature," Ezra suggested. 

"Good," Chris nodded, "Ezra I want you to track him and bring him on board," 

All three Starfleet officers stared at their Captain in surprise, even Vin had glanced over his shoulder at the request. To do so would be to expose transporter technology, and that was not only a violation of General Order 1, there was no telling how the Vulcan would react to it. 

"Captain, are you certain? It could be something of a shock." Ezra pointed out. 

"What shock?" Surak looked at the four men in puzzlement. "Why?" 

"Because what we need to tell him needs to be for his ears only. The more people we involve, the greater the danger to your people even after the Borg are gone." Chris approached the young man and tried to explain his reasoning. "Surak, look around you. Your people war easily. What would be the result if one faction gains an advantage the others don't have? You know your history, you know how easily wars begin. "

Surak wanted to argue that they were a race of warriors, but he could not, because there was truth to the Outliers words. At this moment, the mad tyrant Sudoc was laying waste to the rest of Vulcan, Shi'Kahr was the only safe haven left. Perhaps the enemy's weapons might protect them from Sudoc, but Sudoc could also acquire them and murder everyone who opposed him. 

When Surak was in the desert, struggling to survive with only his thoughts for company, Surak had considered his situation. Surak knew it was his father's wish he became a warrior, but he knew in his heart, it was not what he wanted. He wanted to survive the Rapture, to find a mate who would love him and have children while watching them grow and simply live. When he was avoiding the sehlats and the lemat-ya, he had watched them and saw no matter how dangerous the pack, they all worked together. They survived because they shared the same purpose. 

For them, the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. 

"I understand," he nodded. "My father does not wish for endless bloodshed. He is a soldier because he must be. I believe he will listen to you if you can help us fight these creatures." 

"Okay,," Chris gave him a little smile. "Ezra do it find him and bring him on board." 

"Chris," Vin spoke up from the conn.

"Yeah, Vin?" Chris glanced over his shoulder and saw Vin had stood up from the pilot's chair, leaving JD with the flying for the moment. Joining the others in the main compartment because he was confident JD could handle things on his own, Chris noted the expression on Vin's face. The Vulcan had something on his mind, and that made Chris pay attention. Vin rarely insinuated himself into any discussion without good reason, so if he was about to do so now, they had better listen up. 

"If his pa is going to trust us, we need him to know the truth."

"The truth?" Ezra stared at the helm officer with confusion until it began to dawn on the security chief what the Vulcan was proposing and concluded immediately he did not like it. 

"Yeah the truth, because he's sure as hell isn't going to take our word for it. If they've been fighting Sudoc for so long, they're not going to accept the word of strangers the Borg can wipe out everyone on the planet. We can't tell him. We need to show him." 

"You do not think what we just left behind is ample proof?" Ezra countered. 

"No, that's not enough and not what Vin means." 

Chris understood what Vin was trying to say and what a personal matter this was for the Vulcan, but Vin was right. Surak's father had to know the stakes, beyond the incident rapidly escalating in T'hossuth. Facing Vin, Chris met his eyes. "Are you sure about this?" 

"Yeah," Vin nodded, not wanting to do this at all, but not having any choice in the matter. "He needs to see what we know, what we've been through, and there's only one way to do that." 

"You mean meld?" Nathan exclaimed finally catching on. 

Vin shifted uncomfortably, almost flinching when Nathan used the word. He didn't want to do this, never wanted to do this. His Vulcan mental disciplines were rudimentary at best. Sure he knew how to shields his thoughts thanks to Mary's lessons, and establish a link with Alex because of their marital bond, but he'd never actually carried out a meld with another Vulcan. 

"I was there at the Battle of Sector 001," Vin said to Nathan and then glanced at Chris. "I was with you on the bridge when that damn cube nearly wiped out the entire fleet. If I can show it to him, then he'll understand why we can't let them get any further than they already have. He'll see for himself why he's gotta help us stop the Borg, or risk losing the planet."

TWO YEARS AGO -  EARTH

Vin Tanner was terrified. 

It wasn't the first time he was terrified, so he recognized the emotion despite its infrequency in his life. The last time he was so afraid was when he realized his mother was going to die. The fever she contracted was not a passing bug, but something insidious enough to take her away from him, which it had. Then, his terror came from the knowledge he was going to be alone in the savage world that was their home for almost twelve years, and the only voice he would hear once she was gone, was his own.

This terror was different, but he could at least take comfort in knowing he would not be afraid for long. Chances were good, he wasn't going to live out the day. 

"We are the Borg. Existence as you know it is over. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Resistance is futile." 

The cube loomed large in the view screen of the USS Rutherford. 

Against the canvas of stars, it never looked more fearsome, not merely because it was a Borg ship, but because it looked like something unnatural shredding its way across space instead of gliding through it. Vin had never seen the Borg cube outside of a holovid, but like everyone in Starfleet, he knew what one looked like after the events of Wolf 359.

At present, the cube bore the scars of the initial and secondary defence perimeter intended to halt its advance to Earth. The Borg were met by a task force consisting of fifteen starships, whose classes ranged from the Oberth, Miranda, and Norway. The small armada pitted itself against the Borg, its commanders were perfectly aware that their goal was to buy time, and they did so in blood. While the casualty numbers had yet to be tallied, it was confirmed the Thunderchild, Yeager, Appalachia and the Bozeman were gone. What remained of that ruined fleet raced back to Earth, joining the armada for the final confrontation with the enemy. 

Now twenty ships remained. The Rutherford, a sabre class frigate, held position with her sister ships, the Babbage and the Lavoisier. They joined the hastily assembled armada consisting of Nebula and Akira class vessels, led by the USS Grey Wolf, Admiral Gabriel Hayes's ship. This newer designed collection of frigates, battlecruisers and corvettes were constructed to match the growing Dominion threat, with stronger shields and multiple phasers and torpedo banks. 

Even though the Borg ship showed signs of its earlier engagement with Starfleet by the visible scoring to its outer hull, the cube was still operating at maximum combat capability. The charred and blackened sections of the hull were swiftly regenerating, restored by the collective will of drones who worked unseen like a hive of ants. Despite Starfleet's strategy to marshall its most lethal vessels to meet the Borg over Earth, allowing the first and second line of defence to weaken the enemy, the Borg had gone through them with ease. 

With so many ships facing the lone Borg cube, Vin thought they should have been confident of victory. What was assembled to meet the Borg, would have given other enemies pause. Even the Dominion would think twice about invading the Alpha Quadrant when faced with this formidable fleet. Unfortunately, no one could feel confident when it came to the Borg. Not when everyone remembered the battle of Wolf 359. 

Forty starships perished during that fight, and while Vin had thankfully missed it because he was still a cadet at the Academy, the cost of Starfleet's pyrrhic victory was felt even there. How many classmates had lost friends, families and loved ones? How many funerals had they been forced to attend? Silently, he wondered who would show up to his. He had no friends or family, no one who would care if he died. 

That wasn't true, he glanced over his shoulder at the command chair, occupied by Captain Savil, but his gaze rested on the First Officer, Commander Larabee. 

At present, Captain Savil remained as always, the picture of Vulcan stoicism. 

Vin had only a few interactions with the older Vulcan but always felt uncomfortable in his presence, convinced Captain Savil felt the same. While Savil was never impolite, wearing that impassive mask, Vin often wondered what his Captain thought of him, a Vulcan without the discipline of Surak, serving on his ship. Vin couldn't imagine why he had scored this assignment on the Rutherford. Why would Captain Savil want him on board when he was such an affront to Vulcan ideology? 

Fortunately, the one person on board who did seem to take an interest in Vin was Chris Larabee, Savil's First Officer. Commander Larabee always seemed to have a handle on everything, no matter how dire the situation, displaying an aura of assurance that made you feel everything was going to turn out okay. Still, despite possessing an intense gaze capable of telegraphing to all comers when they put a foot wrong, the commander was capable of surprising compassion. 

Vin had the sense the First Officer was looking out for him, though it was never overt, offering him gentle advice when Vin stumbled in his interactions with others.

It would have surprised Chris Larabee to know Vin felt similar empathy for him. 

Vin could see as clear as day there was pain behind that icy coloured gaze, but Commander Larabee hid it well and used it to function. It hadn't taken much for Vin to learn the reason for the sadness behind his eyes. The commander had lost his wife and child four years earlier in a freak shuttle accident. Using one's pain to survive allowed Vin to understand the place the man inhabited. When his ma died and left him alone in the world, his pain was the only thing Vin could cling to help him go on. 

"Why isn't the Enterprise here?" Vin overheard Chris whisper in Savil's ear. "Captain Picard has more experience dealing with the Borg than anyone else here." 

"Apparently Admiral Hayes feels Captain Picard is compromised after his assimilation." 

"That's a load of crap," Chris snorted derisively, and Vin had to force himself to maintain a poker face instead of smirking at the man's crude but accurate reaction. 

"I would agree with that statement if not your choice of vernacular," the Captain said unsmiling. 

A burst of static across the bridge caught everyone's attention as the open frequency they were using for battlefield communications, transmitted Admiral Hayes's opening message to the Borg. 

"This is Admiral Gabriel Hayes, representing the United Federation of Planets. You are ordered to return to your space immediately, or we will be forced to open fire. We will not ask again." 

Brave words , Vin thought, but as he stared at the cube in the view screen, he knew its answer. 

"We are the Borg. We will not comply. You will lower your shield and surrender your ships. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile." 

Three torpedoes exploded out of the Grey Wolf's weapons banks, proving Admiral Hayes was true to his word as the quantum payload hurtled towards the Borg ship. Designed to slice through Jem'Hadar shields, the torpedo struck the front face of the vessel. The surface of the craft flared up in bright blooms of amber before the vacuum of space snuffed out the flames. While the Borg's hull appeared wounded, anyone who fought the Borg before knew this was to be expected. 

The Borg did not possess shields like most alpha quadrant ships. Instead, their defences were based upon a subspace electromagnetic field capable of determining the modulation of enemy weapons. Each strike allowed the field to adapt quickly to prepare for the next attack. In other words, the first shot was free, the next one would not be. 

"Why the hell are we giving them warning shots?" Vin heard Chris demand, this time not bothering to hide his disagreement with Admiral Hayes. "We need to hit them once from multiple points, with different modulations at once. Don't give them time to pin us down to adapt. We can't win in a lengthy engagement, we've got to do this hard and fast. Time is something they've got, and we don't." 

"I agree," Captain Savil nodded, and Vin had the impression Savil would have liked to have stepped out of his rigid Vulcan persona to express things as bluntly as his human First Officer.

The Borg's response to the barrage was the unleashing of its own weapons in a beam of emerald. 

As the Grey Wolf, accompanied by a handful of other ships went on the offensive, the Borg cube launched its counter-attack. The green cutting laser, a staple of Borg weapons, used to such devastating effect at Wolf 359, struck the Grey Wolf on its left nacelle, almost shearing a portion of it from the rest of the ship. What remained exploded like a firework, ejecting heat and plasma in all directions. Vin's stomach hollowed when he saw the tiny specks hurtling into space around the injured ship, aware it wasn't just pieces of hull plating out there, but bodies. 

"ALL SHIPS TARGET THAT CUBE AND OPEN FIRE!"

Hayes's voice, spoken through the crackle of static, was filled with fury at his ship's mutilation, and with that one command, the final Battle of Sector 001 began. 

"Take us in, Hanson," Chris spoke, receiving a slight nod from Savil to proceed. "Bring us in on attack vector Alpha." 

"Aye Sir,"

From his station, Vin saw Lt. Hanson, the Officer of the Conn tapping the controls before him and as he did so the Rutherford's view of the cube expanded as the ship sailed forward into battle. The screen ahead was filled with the sight of ships flying around the Borg vessel, some moving to attack, other's conducting strafing runs across the expanse of the enormous ship, discharging phasers and photon torpedoes across its hull. The amount of firepower was staggering, and yet the cube continued its charge towards Earth, refusing to be deterred. 

Across the view screen, Vin saw the Grey Wolf come at the cube again, this time accompanied by the Lexington and Sparta. The Collective was prepared for the assault. The Borg made no attempt to avoid the barrage of torpedoes hurtling towards it, and when they detonated, the formidable payload flared briefly against the Borg shields, dissipating into nothingness.

No more free shots , Vin thought, feeling his gut clench as the Lexington and Sparta repeated the action with a similar result. The Borg's efforts were nowhere that ineffectual. The single streak of green energy struck the saucer section of the Grey Wolf, hitting it with enough force to send the ship into a spin, with a part of the hull exploding. In its effort to right itself, it collided with the USS Indio, a smaller Oberth class ship, causing the craft to explode, unable to recover from the impact. 

"Jesus Christ," Vin heard Chris gasp behind him. 

"Commander Zarina," Savil said calmly, a stark contrast to the anxiety running across the bridge in the wake of the Indio's destruction. "Arm torpedoes, and fire on my mark." 

"Closing in on the Borg ship Sir," Vin volunteered as the hull of the massive ship appeared before them. 

"Maintain our shield modulation no matter what," Chris ordered him. "We can't afford to let that beam reach us under any circumstances."

"Aye Sir," Vin nodded and let his own fingers move across the display, his Vulcan brain capable of making computations much faster than anyone on the bridge at present. Ensuring they used every possible frequency imaginable would buy them time before the Borg collapsed their shields. Vin tried to ignore the reality that it wasn't so much a case of if, but rather when . 

If their shields went down, that green laser was capable of more than just tearing their ship apart, it was also a matter transportation device. It could beam crew directly off the bridge, without anyone being able to do a damn thing to stop it. 

More ships joined their advance toward the cube, each modulating their shield frequencies to inflict maximum damage on the Borg cube. However, even as they swarmed the enemy, the Borg was adapting to each shot, ensuring it would repel any weapon fired on that frequency. Eventually, they would be protected from each one Starfleet was capable of producing. Meanwhile, as it continued to take on fire, the Borg were more than capable of giving it back in kind. The smaller ships were taking the worst of it, breaking apart upon being struck, or were obliterated outright.

By now the Rutherford was almost at point-blank range of the Borg hull, with the cube's diameter taking up the entirety of the viewer. The surface was like a latticework of circuitry and machinery, without aesthetic, built only for functionality. Two other ships were doing a flyby, dropping more torpedoes against the hull which detonated spectacularly. The Borg crew retaliated by turning that deadly beam of energy upon them and Vin's breath caught when he recognized, the smaller of the two ships, being cut in half before exploding with a blinding flare of white. 

"Was that the..." Vin heard Watts, their science officer, start to say. 

"The Alexander," Chris answered and while Vin did not need to look over his shoulder to see the First Officer's face, he knew the man was shaken.

"Captain Dunne's ship," Savil said grimly.

Captain Jennifer Dunne had been Chris's first Captain, and last month, the lady had come on board the Rutherford. Vin hadn't spoken to her personally but knew Chris had taken the opportunity to catch up with his former commander. 

"She has a son," Chris said a moment later before his eyes turned hard as flint. "Fire torpedoes the minute we get into range."

"Yes Commander," Zarina replied as the Rutherford flew through the debris field that was once the Alexander and its crew. 

As the Rutherford began her strafing run along the hull of the Borg ship, Vin saw the appearance of two vessels, falling into formation alongside them, preparing to make the journey with them. All three ships were dwarfed by the enormous cube, but Vin couldn’t deny it felt good to know they weren't going to take on that goliath by themselves. 

"The Kilshara," Captain Savil said to Chris. "That is Captain Syan's ship." 

"We got you on the left," Captain Murphy of the Babbage echoed across the bridge. "Let's take this big bitch down for the Alexander." 

"For the Alexander," Savil repeated and nodded at his First Officer allowing him to give the order. 

"FIRE ALL WEAPONS!"

Torpedoes escaped the Rutherford's phaser banks, tumbling through the narrow space between the cube and starship, joined by the volley fired by the Kilshara and the Babbage. Beneath them, the hull ruptured, until it seemed as if they were flying above a sea of fire. The conflagration lasted only briefly in a vacuum, but it was enough. Regeneration or not, Vin knew the Borg had taken a significant hit. It might not be enough to disable the enormous craft, but at least they hurt it. 

"Direct hit!" Zarina burst out almost gleefully as the viewer revealed the extent of the damage. "I can't say for sure, but I think we took out a couple of decks." 

Anything she was about to say, or would ever say ended at that moment because the Borg retaliated swiftly. Before anyone on the bridge could do anything to prevent it, a second Borg energy beam appeared from the hull of the cube, this one aimed directly at the Rutherford. 

"Evasive maneuvers!" Vin heard Captain Savil shout as the craft banked sharply at Hanson's skilful hands. Hanson was trying to get them away from the cube, but Vin wanted to yell at him and tell him to head towards the enemy instead of away. In space, they were an easy target to pick off by those energy beams, like the rest of the fleet. If they got close to the hull, so close they might scratch the paint, they would be beyond the beams ability to reach them. 

There was a moment of clarity when the secondary weapon fired, and the viewer and the bridge were bathed with the green glow of the Borg's shot. While Chris was still shouting orders and the attack transmissions from the fleet crisscrossed the deck, time seemed to freeze when they saw the Babbage take the hit. The beam sliced off one of its nacelles from the saucer section, causing the ship to veer uncontrollably to port. As she spun into a barrel roll, the ship slammed into the saucer section of the Kilshara. The impact was as devastating as it appeared and across the hulls of both starships, explosive venting signal the effect of core breaches. 

The obliteration of both ships lit up the darkened sky like a supernova. 

Vin felt a surge of agony as something screamed in his mind. He tumbled to his knees, clutching his skull in pain. Sickened because even if he didn't understand how Vin still felt them die. Their voices screamed through the cold of space for one terrible second and were then forever silenced. 

"Shield your thoughts," Savil suddenly spoke. Vin looked up to see his Captain staring at him, having left his command chair. He looked at Vin with the first semblance of kindness the younger Vulcan had ever received from his Captain. Savil was reaching for his shoulder intending to make contact when suddenly Chris was shouting at Hanson to retake evasive action because something else was happening. 

Both beams struck the saucer section of the Rutherford at the same time. As it caused explosive decompression throughout the ship, the combined strength of the beam overloaded almost every system on board. The viewer shorted out, the image turning black as fissures began appearing across the screen and then exploded outward violently. Sharp glass flew in all directions. Vin dived underneath his station for cover, and he saw Chris trying to reach the Captain, but it was too late. Both Hanson and Savil were killed in an instant, bathed in fire and glass. 

The deck beneath them tilted precariously at a 45-degree angle as the ship began to drift. Vin didn't need to look out a window or see through the viewer to know this. He could feel it under his feet. Around him, the bridge was bathed in the glow of red alert. Panels had come loose with live wiring exposed. At least half the stations were no longer functional, and as Vin climbed out from under his station, he saw Chris examining Captain Savil. Like Hanson, whose end had come with a jagged fragment that was protruding from his neck, causing his blood to pool beneath him, Savil's end had come from a similar piece striking him in the skull. 

As Vin swept his gaze across the bridge, all that remained of the senior staff was Chris Larabee and Lt. Commander Watts. Lt. Zarina had been killed when her security console went up. Two other junior officers were staggering to their feet, just as shell shocked as Vin by what just happened. In the meantime, the First Officer knelt over the Captain's body, grief appearing in his face with Vin feeling the same, recalling only a few seconds ago, the connection the man tried to make in the last moment of his life. 

"Commander," Vin said to Chris, reminding the First Officer he was now Captain, and they were still in the middle of a fight.

Chris Larabee raised his eyes to Vin Tanner's and knew without the Vulcan having to say a word, what was needed of him. "Yeah," Chris nodded slowly. "I know. We got work to do." 

Without skipping a beat, Chris stood up. "Watts, what's our status?" 

"We've lost our shields, and main power is offline. We're drifting." Watts face was covered in soot and smoke. Communications were still functioning if the frantic transmissions were any indication. It appeared the fleet might be facing another repeat of Wolf 359. 

"Tanner, take the helm!" Chris ordered. 

Vin nodded, feeling like nine kinds of scum because the idea of taking the Conn thrilled him until he realized that Hanson had died for him to have the chance. Trying not to look at the dead Officer of the Conn, Vin studied the controls. 

"Commander, auxiliary power is still working, I can reroute to get us thruster control." 

"Do it!" Chris ordered. "We're sitting ducks here." 

"Watts get our externals sensors working, we need to know what the hell is happening out there."

"Aye Sir," Watts nodded, and as he turned away, Chris tapped his com badge. "Engineering, come in." 

For a second he was greeted by static, and the remaining feared they might all be dead down there when a voice he didn't recognize announced herself. 

"This is Lieutenant Julia Pemberton! Chief Engineer Aeola is dead! We've got a lot of casualties down here. We had to shut down the warp reactor or risk a breach." 

"Damn," Chris cursed. "We need power to get us moving faster than thrusters." 

"Okay, okay, I can get you impulse, but I don't know for how long." The young woman said as if she were working a complex problem, instead of figuring out how they were not going to be obliterated. "I'm going to do a bypass using the antimatter drives in our shuttles. If I can rig at least three of them together, we might be able to bring back main power by bypassing our main drive. But warp is out of the question.." 

"Rig them together?" Chris stared into space, wondering whether if the girl was high on plasma fumes. How did one rig up warp reactors? 

"Oh sure, you just need to bypass a couple of safety procedures and run a ....."

"Nevermind," Chris shook his head, deciding he didn't need to know, just grateful Lt. Pemberton could. "Just do it!"

"Aye Sir," he could almost see her smile. "Give me a tick, and we'll give our girl the kick she needs."

Vin and Chris exchanged a bemused look before Watt's made a further announcement. "Commander, I've got sensors back online. Another ship is approaching the fleet."

"Can you identify?" 

"Yes, Sir, Sovereign-class." Watt's said, brow arching. "Commander, its the USS Enterprise." 

"They've left T'hossuth and are spreading out to Antara." 

Within the Hall of Debate, General Stef and the members of the Shi'Kahr High Council listened in silence to the report delivered by Captain Latok at the deteriorating situation in T'hossuth.

It was not the first time they received ill-favoured intelligence such as this, but there was something in Latok's eyes, none of the ministers, himself included, missed. Fear. Latok was afraid . The Captain of the High Guard was one of the bravest men they knew, who alongside Stef had defended the walls of Shi'Kahr against the mad tyrant Sudoc's countless attempts to take the city. The man never displayed fear, even in the most extreme situations. The fact he was showing it now to all of them, was far more telling than any report he delivered.

"Do we know who they are?" Minister Kelor, usually responsible for the city's public works, asked as he tried not to show he was affected by Latok's grim report. It was clear Kelor felt out of his depth since it was the first time he attended the meeting under these circumstances. Kelor was one of the newer appointments to the High Council, and until today, the sessions he attended were focused on the day to day functioning of the city. Today, the Council assembled due to the state of emergency declared over Shi'Kahr.

"Could it be they are of Sudoc?" He asked further.

It was not an unreasonable question, Stef thought silently and saw the effect it had among the other members of the Council, even the First Minister. The possibility the Sudoc might be at the heart of this sent an involuntary shudder through everyone at the table. It was hardly the warlord's first attempt to take the city. Sudoc considered Shi'Kahr and its people the reason he was not yet crowned Emperor, and his attacks upon the city were intended to punish them for this great sin. So far, they repelled his violence, but if he was responsible for what was taking place at T'hossuth, then he might have finally found a way through their defences.

"No," Latok quickly dismissed this possibility once and for all. "What few survivors managed to escape the district, tell us the enemy is not of Vulcan."

This created a more disturbed ripple of dissent through the group, Stef included. While they were aware of other races in the galaxy, at this time, no official first contact had been established.

"You mean they're Outliers?" Endak, the minister for trade exclaimed in shock, his indigo eyes wide. "Which ones? The Andor or the Tellar?"

"Neither," Latok shook his head in answer, his younger eyes meeting Stef's as he responded, and the General knew then, Latok was scared for good reason. "We do not know what they are, nor is it a species we are familiar with."

“It doesn't matter where they're from. If they have spread so quickly from T'hossuth to Antara, we must put a stop to them. They have only been on the ground for a few hours, and already overcome one district, what will happen if more time passes? They could take the city in a day!"

Matrak, the Minister for Security concluded, turning an accusing eye on Stef. They were both the same age with Matrak viewing him as a rival. As always, Matrak was quick to use the situation to his advantage. It was no secret his ambitions lay in the direction of the First Minister's chair and never missed an opportunity to elevate himself in the eyes of others.

Despite Matrak's dramatics, this time, Stef couldn't disagree. They were dealing with Outliers who appeared impervious to their weapons. Latok's report revealed the invaders possessed some form of protective shielding that could not be penetrated by blasters, or aerial bombardment. 

"We must meet them on the ground again," Matrak stated and then sneered with mild contempt at Stef, "since our aerial attack proved so woefully inadequate." 

Stef refused to be baited. Over the years, he had seen men like Matrak come and go and knew how to handle himself. Ignoring the others at the table, he turned his attention to Nivara, the current First Minister of Shi'Kahr. The old matriarch had listened quietly to the discussion, but Stef knew her silence was no sign of inaction. She was the sharpest mind he knew and right now, while they were squabbling over details, she was forming a picture of their situation. 

"We have lost all contact with our ground forces," Stef stated. "As Latok reported, the intelligence we've received comes not from our troops, but the few survivors who've escaped to tell the tale. Of these, there are not many. Most do not even understand what they are seeing, repeating gibberish involving demons and wraiths capable of ensnaring souls. Until we know what we are dealing with, we should not send more soldiers, or we will lose them like the others."

"But we cannot sit idly by either," Matrak countered. 

"I intend no such thing," Stef eyed him with unconcealed contempt at his desire to jockey for position, even now. "Latok and I will go to T'hossuth and see for ourselves what is happening. We will not engage the enemy, merely conduct a proper assessment of the situation. Until we know for certain what we fight, we cannot defend ourselves."

"General," Latok stared at him, not at all liking the idea a General of Shi'Kahr was placing himself in danger this way. "This is unwise. If we are overcome..."

"We will approach like the le-mat-ya in the dark, carefully, beneath their notice. The minute we have accurate intelligence, we will return."

"You must do what is necessary," Matrak replied stiffly, probably hoping he did not return, Stef was certain. 

For the first time, Nivara spoke, although she shot Matrak a hard glare which indicated she did not care for his self-serving agenda at this time. Looking at Stef, her expression softened, and her blue eyes stared at him with real concern. "General Stef, if you feel this is the proper course, I will not stop you, but bear in mind, if the danger is as great as you say, we will have need of your strength fighting the enemy." 

"We will take all precautions," Stef assured before he rose to his feet and nodded at Latok to follow him. Raising his hand, he offered them the salute of Ta'al in parting. "Live long and prosper." 

"I have him," Ezra Standish announced to the Captain and the rest of the Away Team onboard the Cimarron as the runabout hovered several miles above Shi'Kahr city. The craft was in the upper atmosphere, well hidden from the current surveillance systems monitoring the local air traffic. 

Chris left his seat next to Vin. Reaching Ezra, Chris leaned over the security chief's shoulder to observe the high-resolution image of a Vulcan man, standing alone on one of the many balconies attached to the tallest tower in the city. Chris recognised the structure, even in this distant past. Like all Vulcan towers, it was constructed of red sandstone, with a domed roof that blunted its reach into the sky. Whatever it's designation at this time, in the future the tower would be known as the Vulcan High Council Chamber.

"Surak," Chris gestured the teenager who was seated in one of the seats in the cockpit, staring avidly out the window at the panoramic view of his homeworld beyond the plexiglass. At the sound of his name, Surak immediately got to his feet and joined the Captain and Ezra.

Surak no more glanced at the screen both men were staring at before he exclaimed with surprise. "That is my father!" 

"Okay then," Chris nodded deciding they had the right man, "Ezra you have a go."

"Aye Captain," Ezra answered automatically, and the low whine of the transport began to hum. 

Chris observed the image of Stef, Surak's father, a man by human standards to be in his mid-fifties, although he could be older because Vulcans aged differently. Like most of the Vulcans they'd encountered since arriving in this time, he wore his dark hair long, except it was tied at the back. Glancing at Vin for a moment, Chris wondered if his best friend realised he was honouring his people in more ways than one by wearing his hair long. Turning his attention back to Stef, Chris saw a man taking in the view of the city, his expression pensive.

Whether or not the Vulcan comprehended what was happening, Chris couldn't be sure, but he intended to greet the General when he arrived on the Cimmaron. Stef was going to be in a state when he discovered he was no longer where he had been when the shimmer of the transport finally dissipated. "Surak, come with me. Your dad is going to have questions when he comes on board." 

Surak still did not understand how this was possible, but he obeyed nonetheless, having studied this ship in greater detail since they left T'hossuth. Whoever these Outliers were, they possessed technology far more advanced than any Surak had ever seen, and now it appeared they were bringing his father on board the ship. His youthful mind struggled to keep up. 

"Shall I get a sedative ready?" Nathan looked up at Chris and Surak when they entered the main cabin, taking position near the single transporter pad in the runabout.

"Very funny," Chris shot his chief medical officer a withering look as Nathan presented S'tash with a tray of food, while continuing to treat all the boy's scrapes and bruises. 

"What's happening?" S'tash asked when suddenly Ezra’s voice silenced them all. 

"Transporting now, Captain." 

As he said those words, the transporter pad came to life, and the interior of the runabout was temporarily illuminated by the glow of the transport beam. The familiar shimmer of gold captured the attention of everyone in the main compartment as the man materialised in front of them. For Chris and Nathan, this was a sight they'd seen a thousand times before, but Surak and S'tash's reaction was entirely in keeping with the witnessing of something almost magical. 

" a'Tha !" Surak gasped in shock while S'tash merely gaped in wonder as Stef appeared on the transporter pad.

When the hum ceased, Stef jumped when he saw he was no longer where he had been on the balcony of the tower, but someplace entirely different. Startled, he looked around in a mild panic, until his eyes rested on Surak.

"Surak!" Stef exclaimed in shock and unknowingly stepped off the transporter pad towards his son. Surak met his father halfway even as the man bombarded him with a flurry of questions while scanning his new surroundings with urgency. "What is this? Where are we? How did we get here!"

Stef was understandably traumatised by his sudden appearance on the Cimmaron and Chris allowed Surak to calm his father down before he attempted to explain. 

"Father, please," Surak spoke through the battery of demands. "Please calm yourself. We are safe but you must listen. These people brought you here because they need our help." 

The words took a moment to penetrate, and Chris saw the understanding flood Stef's face even as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that a moment ago he was someplace entirely different and was spirited away to this ship in the blink of an eye. 

"General," Chris spoke when the Vulcan looked in his direction, "please allow us to explain." 

Stef was trying to restrain his astonishment as he viewed the occupants of the ship, and he had no doubt it was one. His initial thought upon appearing on the deck of this craft was Surak's presence here, but now that shock had waned, was able to apply his well-honed powers of observations on the other faces present. They were not of Vulcan. 

Without Stef needing to say a word, Chris knew the General noticed they were all aliens. Surprise registered on his face, a completely understandable emotion under the circumstances. Before transporting Stef on board, Chris had Nathan remove all their prosthetics. For Stef to believe them, the General needed to know who they were, so he would not mistake them for Vulcans trying to deceive him on behalf of this Sudoc or any other enemy faction presently on this world. 

While the Away Team was still in local clothing, everyone except Vin was now unmasked. 

"What are you?" The General, not surprising anyone with the question. "Why do you have my son?" 

"Father, they helped me," Surak quickly interrupted, trying to assuage his fears that these Outliers were not the enemy. After so many years fighting Sudoc and keeping Shi'Kahr safe, Surak knew his father treated most strangers with suspicion, even if by nature he was a reasonable man. "They found me in the desert after I was attacked by the le-matya." 

Le-matya ? Stef's eyes widened. If Surak was alone when this happened, he would have died. Immediately Stef took the boy's face in his hands, quickly examining his son to make sure Surak was unhurt. While the Taloth was as much a rite of passage for the parents as well as the children undergoing the ritual, it was a special kind of torture for Stef. 

The General was accustomed to protecting his family, and the idea of waiting helplessly as his son went into the Forge alone, hoping he would be up to the challenge of manhood, filled Stef with dread. However, seeing Surak was still alive, filled him with gratitude and took away some of the anxiety he felt, though not much. 

Facing the strangers again, Stef kept his arm around Surak's shoulder, not daring to let his son out of his reach until his questions were answered. "Who are you? "What is this place? How did you bring me here?"

"You sure you don't want that sedative now?" 

Chris glared Nathan into silence before he turned to Stef. "General, I realise this is quite a shock, but we mean you no harm. We are..." he glanced at Surak, remembering the term the boy used to describe them. "We are Outliers. We come from a planet in the outer spiral arm of this quadrant of the galaxy. We came here, tracking the enemy who invaded your city." 

Stef was still processing the Outlier's words when Chris's last statement impacted on him like the jaws of some terrible beast snapping shut. "You know what they are?" 

Chris nodded somberly. "They are called the Borg, and where we come from, they've laid waste to thousands of worlds and killed billions. How they happened to be on this planet was a mistake, but it won't make any difference to them now they are here. They're like..." Chris struggled to find the Vulcan definition of locusts, "... akria ."

"Akria?" Stef understood the analogy immediately. Akria were a plague upon the crops of Vulcan, travelling in large swarms during the hottest periods of the year. They emerged from the Forge, riding the currents of the desert storms, destroying all vegetation in sight. It was said they could strip fields in a matter of hours and considering what happened in T'hossuth this day, he supposed the stranger’s use of the word was apt. 

"Yes," Chris nodded, grateful his Vulcan wasn't as rusty as he thought. He supposed having Mary here would be an advantage at this time, but he didn't regret his decision to send her back to the Maverick. She needed to be with her son if the worst came to pass. "They are cybernetic life forms, who expand their numbers by infusing anyone they find with nanoprobes. These probes turn anyone infected into one of them. Those infected have no will, they are a slave to a single hive mind."

"Are you saying everyone we have sent into T'hossuth has become one of them?" Stef exclaimed in horror, wanting to disbelieve and yet this Outlier's words fit the mystery of why there were so few survivors escaping the district, or why none of their troops returned. 

"Unfortunately yes," Chris nodded gravely. "Your son," he glanced at Surak, "saw them land in the Forge. We were tracking them when we found him."

"It is true father," Surak quickly confirmed. "When I saw them, I knew they were not of Vulcan. They looked like machines but I could see flesh. They were going to take me, but I ran into the Forge. When these people found me, I was about to be taken by a pack of le-matya ." 

Stef let out a heavy sigh of relief, turning to his son once more, pulling Surak close, so their foreheads touched. While he had difficulty accepting everything else he was being told, that one fact rose above all others. Looking at the leader of these Outliers, Stef bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you for my son’s life." 

Chris accepted the man's gesture, understanding his feelings all too well. If it was Adam, Chris would feel no different. "It was our pleasure. My name is Chris Larabee, but the true credit of saving Surak goes to my Chief Medical Officer over there, Nathan Jackson. He's the one who administered the antidote to the poison." 

"Your boy's a good patient," Nathan smiled, continuing to repair the cuts on S'tash leg with a dermal regenerator. "Didn't give me any trouble." 

Stef stared at Nathan, taking in the sight of the Outlier, who if not for the ears, could have been Vulcan himself. The child next to him, however, was definitely of the blood. "And the boy?" 

"We found him in T'hossuth," Chris explained. "We went there to track the Borg, but we had to leave. Their numbers have grown too large."

"How do we stop them?" Stef asked abruptly. "We have rained fire on them, but nothing seems to work." 

"They adapt quickly," Chris answered, now that they were getting down to brass tacks. "Their shields will adapt to any weapon used on them. At best, you will have maybe five minutes to put a Borg drone down, before their shields adapt. The shields will work with any energy weapon you deploy against them." 

"Then we will fight them with blades and lirpas!" 

"That will work, but only briefly," Chris countered, understanding the man's reasoning, "but it's not something you can continue indefinitely. If they can counter energy-based weapons, they will be able to adapt to defend against kinetic attacks too. Right now, you must withdraw your ground forces. Containment is your best option until we can find a way to end them permanently." 

"You mean to pen them up like quatill?" Stef stared at him incredulously. "I cannot tell my forces to simply withdraw! The Council will think me mad!"

"General, if you send more people in there, you will only allow the Borg to expand their numbers, beyond your ability to contain them. Their greatest strength is not their technology, it's their ability to assimilate other life forms. We've seen it happen on a hundred worlds."

"It's true General," Nathan added his voice, more familiar with the assimilation process than anyone on board. "The minute they stick you with their infusion nodules, you lose all free will. You're trapped in your mind, unable to escape because the nanoprobes have grafted themselves to your blood cells, and it happens fast. Almost instantaneous." 

"Chris," Vin Tanner emerged for the first time, allowing JD to take over the piloting duties, having listened from the cockpit while Chris tried to make his case to the man. The General did not understand the magnitude of the threat. Right now, he saw the danger to his city, he needed to see the full scope of it. 

Chris saw Vin emerging and nodded, giving him permission to continue. He didn't like Vin having to use his abilities this way, but they needed Stef on their side. 

Stef saw the new arrival and knew immediately he was Vulcan, but also not of Vulcan. There was something about him that was different, but Stef had no doubt, he was no Outlier.

"General," Vin approached him. "You gotta understand what you are facing. I can show you we're not lying and that you need to listen to us, with the ..." Vin paused searching for the word Mary used, so he could better explain what he wished to do. "The taroon-ifla ."

Stef's eyes widened. "You wish to carry out a mind touch?" 

"Yeah," Vin nodded, feeling supremely uncomfortable about all this, but knowing there was no other way. This man had to understand what was at stake.

The mind touch was a deeply personal affair, requiring the lowering of mental barriers so two people could share the same thoughts. It was not something Stef allowed anyone to do, yet this Vulcan was asking his permission. Stef did not know whether or not to be furious or astonished. His first impulse was to refuse until he realised he would have irrefutable truth these people were not lying to him, that these Outliers could be trusted. He wanted to know how this Vulcan had come to be among the Outliers. Stef realised then the mind touch would allow him to know all these things. 

"You may proceed," Stef said after what felt like a long pause. 

Chris let out of sigh of relief but then felt no victory by Stef's agreement. The Captain of the Maverick knew just how much Vin abhorred doing this but saw no other way. They needed Stef to understand. Short of involving the Maverick to take direct action, this was the only way to end the Borg threat on Vulcan, once and for all. 

Vin took in a deep breath and closed the distance between himself and Stef. Remembering what Mary taught him, he placed his fingers against Stef's cheekbone and saw the man flinch slightly at the contact. Closing his eyes, he whispered the words under his breath. 

"My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts."

As the warmth of connection spread throughout them both, Vin opened the memories in his mind...

Inside his mind's eye, Stef was confronted with a battle. 

It was unlike any battle he had ever seen in his life. Dozens of ships, not the lumbering vessels they used for interstellar travel, but vessels that were beautiful and graceful in their design, moved through space like the lovely sapphire lara birds in the Forge. 

Stef watched them flying into battle against one ship, one massive ship that dwarfed them all. It was ugly and crudely built like someone had gouged out a cube from a wall of circuitry. What it did to the fleet made Stef recoil in horror. He watched the ships exploding, the bodies being flung into the vacuum of space, the explosive decompression following anti-matter detonation. They lit up the sky until it was as red as the morning in the dawn sky above Vulcan's Heart.

He saw the young man whose mind he was sharing, on the bridge of a ship that was next to ruined. He could feel the fires and the smoke, the sparks of exposed wires sinking into his skin, while bodies lay across the wreckage of glass, plasteel and fused iron. Through the eyes of the one called Vin, Stef felt his lungs sting with the stench of burning meat and noxious fumes. Staggering across the floor, he saw the leader of the Outliers, sprawled across the foot of the command chair, his skull a matted mess of red. Stef knew immediately it was his species version of blood. 

Meanwhile, warning urgently in the background, were the words that did nothing but provoke fear. 

"ALL HANDS, ABANDON SHIP! ALL HANDS, ABANDON SHIP!"

He was young, this Vulcan whose mind Stef was sharing, barely past thirty, not even old enough to experience his first true Rapture. Through Vin's eyes, Stef witnessed the young man pick up his commander, slinging the unconscious body over his shoulders before departing the bridge. 

The scene shifted, and through a portal of what appeared to be life pod, he saw the ship they just departed explode like a dying star. As the solar winds swept its remnants away, only the cube remained, looking like Death itself. 

Mary Travis was driving her crazy. 

Alexandra Styles couldn't blame her of course. The present acting-Captain of the USS Maverick was herself none too pleased that her Captain, and her husband, not to mention the friends in the Away Team, were facing the Borg on the planet's surface. She understood the Captain’s reasoning, knew all the arguments of why it had been a prudent decision to send her and Mary back to the ship, but it still left a sour taste in her mouth nonetheless. Still accepting Chris Larabee's unconventional orders was something she was accustomed to, and while she might not agree with his present course, was seasoned enough to follow it. 

It was what Buck would do. 

It surprised her how much she had taken from the man, despite their initial relationship. Buck was one of those people who just knew what others needed, not just the women. While she had no idea what sort of Captain he would be, he was the perfect First Officer of the Maverick and the thought they might have to sacrifice him, made Alex's stomach turn. She couldn't even begin to imagine what Inez was going through right now and made a mental note to drop in on her. 

"Mary, he'll be fine." 

Josiah Sanchez did not normally spend time on the bridge, after all, he was a ship's counsellor, but if she had to take centre seat, Alex was damned if she was going to do it with Buck's empty station beside her. It just didn't feel right, and if someone had to occupy the space, then Alex preferred it to be Josiah. Besides, with the way the crew was feeling right now, his calm voice was just what the doctor ordered. 

"I should be down there with him," Mary shook her head, indicating while Chris might be okay, she certainly was not. "He doesn't know Vulcan culture or their history, I should be helping him."

Alex exchanged a knowing glance with Josiah, who without having to say a word, told her to let him handle this. Mary's precarious state of mind was too close to Alex’s own, and the attempt to offer Mary counsel would only remind Alex Vin was down there too in similar jeopardy. 

"You are helping him," Josiah said smoothly, "you're up here providing Alex support." 

Alex nodded at Mary in confirmation. "You are. If anything comes at us, I need to know what we're dealing with. You're the expert in Vulcan history, I’ll need your guidance." 

Mary let out a frustrated sigh and knew she was so irritable because Chris had sent her up here, not because it was for the good of the mission, but because he didn't want her to die with him if their last resort had to be used. He loved Billy too much to leave her son an orphan. As much as Mary loved him for that, she was also furious because he would not be making that decision if she was just another member of his Away Team. 

"I know," she started to say, "It's just that things are so wild down there. At this point in Vulcan history, the culture could have gone any...."

Her words were interrupted by the shrill sound of the security station. 

"What is it?" Alex turned to the security chief in Ezra's absence. 

Drew Katovit's eyes narrowed as he studied the readings on the display of his console before looking up. "You wanted me to monitor all ship traffic in Shi'Kahr city?" 

"That's right," Alex nodded. She wanted to know if the Borg were spreading out and whether the Captain had succeeded in convincing the authorities of the danger and evacuating its citizens. If he was, the mass exodus would show by the ships leaving the area. "What have you got?" 

"I read at least seven ships on approach at high velocity towards Shi'kahr, not away from it." 

"What?" Alex stood up from the command chair, feeling relief every time she vacated it. "From where?" 

"From what we know to be modern, Jaleyl," Drew answered after a moment. 

"Oh my God," Mary stood up just as abruptly. 

"What is it?" Josiah saw the worry etched across the woman's face. "You know something about this?"

"Yes," Mary stared at Alex with concern. "Jaleyl is a region controlled by the warlord Sudoc. In this period, he was hell-bent on conquering all of Vulcan. Shi'Kahr was the only city to stand against him. No matter how many times he attacked, they always held him back, despite his being a powerful telepath. Thanks to the elders of Amonak and T'Panit who lived in the city at this point, they were able to fight him." 

"They might be a bit busy right now," Josiah pointed out, "what with the Borg beating down their doors." 

That was all Alex needed to hear because she understood what was happening. "The Borg has all of Shi'Kahr's attention right now. If this Sudoc wanted to launch an attack, this would be a perfect time. How long until interception range?" 

"Five minutes," Drew replied. "What are your orders?" 

"We can't interfere," Alex stated first and foremost. "Not until we know what's happening." 

"Alex, we can't let Sudoc take Shi'Kahr," Mary insisted. "I know the timeline is in tatters right now, but it will be much worse if Sudoc conquers the city. We may end up stopping the Borg, but we will be left with a Romulan-like Vulcan Empire that would most likely consume all of the Alpha Quadrant."

"I know," Alex was aware of the stakes. "But I need to check in with the Captain first. I need him to take the gloves off us. Still that doesn't mean we can't take precautions. Engineering, come in," Alex tapped her com badge. 

"Lt Chanu here," Chanu's voice filled the bridge, and no matter how much she thought herself accustomed to it by now, it still didn't feel right hearing any other voice than Julia’s.

"Chanu what's our status?" 

"We're almost at full combat capability. If we ever get back home, we'll probably need some time at space dock, but for the most part, we're good to go. We've restored warp power, and the main engines are back online. We'll be able to switch to the primary sensor array soon." 

"What about our cloak. Is that still operational?"

"Yes Commander," Chanu gave her the answer she wanted. "It's working fine." 

"Good," Alex smiled gratefully. "Tell your engineering team, they're doing a hell of a job." 

"I will Sir," Chanu's voice revealed his appreciation at her recognition of the effort the Engineering team put in to restore the Maverick’s damaged systems, especially without Julia Pemberton. 

"What's your plan, Alex?" Mary asked, not missing the inquiry about the cloaking field. 

"Well we may not be able to interfere with those ships," Alex stated, "but there's no reason why we can’t go in for a closer look. Just in case we need to act."

"Sounds like a plan," Josiah approved, glad to see there was something else to occupy the two officers other than the worry for their men. 

Alex wasn't about to feel that much optimism yet. "It's something." 

When Vin finally withdrew from Stef, his first reaction was to keep from puking. 

"Vin!" 

Chris's hand was on his shoulder and when the fog lifted from his eyes, realised he was staring at the floor of the runabout, having dropped to his hands and knees after the connection between himself and Stef was broken. His head was pounding, and his stomach was all kinds of queasy. He hadn't realised how taxing it could be because until this point, the melds he had participated in were gentle affairs from those with very little or no telepathic ability. This was the first time he was forced to do it with someone on an equal if not superior footing. 

"I'm okay," he managed to say when he saw Nathan and Chris beside him, looking on with concern. 

"Is he alright?" Surak inquired, somewhat puzzled at Vin's adverse reaction to the mind touch. It was something Surak was accustomed to since childhood and while it was sometimes disorienting, it ought to be nowhere this affecting. Especially for someone of Vin's maturity. In contrast, his father suffered no ill effects beyond what he had seen during the mind touch. 

"He's fine," Chris said quickly. "He just hasn't done this before." 

"The mind touch?" Stef stared at Vin in surprise. "But he's past the age of Rapture, surely..." 

"Vin wasn't raised Vulcan," Nathan explained. "He was raised by humans, and we don't have the ability to... mind touch." 

"At all?" Surak's eyes widened. "This was your first time, melding with one of your own kind?"

Vin got himself under control and took Chris's hand to get to his feet. "Yeah, my parents died when I was little, and I was found by humans who raised me. We didn't have contact with other Vulcans for a long time, so I never learned any of the disciplines."

"That must have been difficult," Stef sympathised and wondered about these humans who would raise a child not one of their own. He saw what they were in that terrible battle, and it wasn't just them. The ship he saw was populated by more than just humans, there was a Vulcan captain, and the other races were ones he did not know. The possibilities of what it represented was too much for a man of his time to handle. It didn't matter, he saw what the enemy was and knew the danger they posed, not just to Shi'Kahr but the whole of Vulcan and perhaps beyond.

They were anti-life, and they could not be allowed to spread. 

"It was," Vin admitted, getting to his feet. "But you needed to see what was at stake." 

"Yes," Stef nodded, needing no further explanation after what he saw in the younger man's mind. The scale of the destruction staggered him and knew if he did not help these people, a similar scene would be played out, not in space but in Shi'Kahr itself. "These creatures, the Borg, that is what is in T'hossuth?"

"That's right," Chris confirmed with a nod. "Normally they come in ships, but because of the accident that brought them to Vulcan, they've had to make do. They're going to assimilate the population, and with the technology on your planet, they have the power to build the cube you saw. After that, they'll use Vulcan as the beachhead to enslave billions." 

Billions. Stef thought of all those ships again, filled with so many different races, fighting to defend their homes against a near invulnerable enemy. The parallels between Shi'Kahr's fight against Sudoc was too close for Stef's liking. Before he could think to respond to the words of the human called Chris, a voice cried out. 

"Captain!" Ezra called out sharply from the cockpit, "we have a situation. "

Chris's spine stiffened, and he shot a look at Vin and Stef before he turned on his heels and was striding towards the runabout's cockpit to determine what exactly was Ezra's definition of a 'situation'. Knowing Ezra's penchant for understatement, Chris suspected it was nothing good. 

Not about to be left behind, Vin and Stef followed, the latter because he was a novice in this new world he was so abruptly initiated and wanted as much information as he could get on what was happening. 

"What is it?" Chris asked, reaching Ezra who was hunched over the tactical station, studying the display intently. It took no more than a second for the Captain of the Maverick to see what Ezra was looking at before he understood why Ezra raised the alarm. Glancing at the approaching General, Chris spoke up, "Stef, do you have any ships returning to Shi'Kahr at this time?" 

"There's always commercial traffic of course," the General said coming alongside Chris. "But we have issued warning beacons to stay away until we determined what is happening in T'hossuth. Why?" 

"You have seven ships inbound," Chris explained studying the trajectory of the blips moving across the display. "Judging by their speed, they'll be arriving at the city in five minutes. Ezra, can you get us a visual please?" 

"Aye Captain," Ezra replied, already in the process of activating their long-range scanners to provide them a glimpse of the intruders encroaching Shi'Kahr airspace so rapidly. With a sudden glow, the real-time images of the ships in question appeared before the three men leaning over his shoulder.

When they appeared, Ezra estimated the bullet-like ships were only a fraction smaller than the runabout. Still, there was no doubt in the Security Chief's mind these were not personal or commercial cruisers, but combat vehicles. Ancient as they were, Ezra recognised the mounted cannons and the gunnery turrets on the sides of each craft. The ships were flying swiftly across the diminishing desert, approaching the outer perimeter of the irrigated land surrounding the outskirts of Shi’Kahr. 

Even if the Away Team did not recognise the ships, Stef did immediately. 

"Those are Sudoc's slicers!" The General burst out as the full implications of the enemy's sudden appearance dawned upon him. "They know of our troubles. They mean to attack us while we're distracted! I must return to Shi'Kahr and mobilise our forces!"

This was a complication Chris did not care for on top of everything else they had to deal with. "They'll get to the city long before you have a chance to rally your forces," Chris stated and turned to Vin. "Vin, take the helm and get us into intercept range, preferably before they get to Shi’Kahr." 

Mary could probably give him a historical perspective of Sudoc if she were here. Still, Chris knew to allow a mad tyrant control of the last remaining bastion of freedom on Vulcan, was not acceptable under any circumstances. The timeline might be shot to hell, but Chris wasn't going to make things worse by giving Sudoc the opportunity to take advantage of the Borg invasion, by altering Shi'Kahr's fate and more importantly Surak's.

In the future, Surak's new philosophy would have the same effect on Sudoc that the Christians would have on the Roman Empire. 

"You got it," Vin said promptly, sliding into the seat at the helm as JD relinquished the duty. No sooner than he was behind the controls again, Vin was moving the ship out of his stationary position above the skies of Shi'Kahr and flying towards the approaching vessels.

"Captain, are you sure?" Ezra shot him a look, guessing immediately what Chris intended but feeling the need to ask anyway. Getting into a firefight with Sudoc's forces was going to do no favours to the timeline. 

"Damn straight I am," Chris disliking any faction using this calamity to launch a sneak attack. "Ezra raise the shields. We're going in, and we're going in hot. I want those ships out of commission before they get anywhere near the city. JD, what's their distance from Shi'Kahr?" 

"One thousand kilometres and closing,"

"Vin?" Chris glanced past Stef, at the Officer of the Conn. 

"I'll get us there before they make it halfway," Vin didn’t look up at Chris, focussed on the task ahead, "but you better buckle up, I ain't gonna be smooth about it." 

"Right," Chris nodded and turned to Stef. "General, if you and your son could please take a seat. Our anti-gravs are pretty good, but not for a fight like this." 

"You mean to fight them with this one ship?” Stef stared at him with disbelief. While the craft did appear impressive and the technology that brought him on board a wonder, Stef didn't like the odds. The ship was no larger than one of their long-range shuttles, and the idea it could take on a squadron of Sudoc's slicers was frankly quite preposterous.

"She's got more teeth than you can possibly imagine," Chris ushered the man towards the main compartment as the hum of the Cimarron's engines began to pulse even louder, an indication of how much power Vin was sending to their propulsion system. "Nathan, make sure everyone is secured, it's about to get bumpy."

"Wonderful," Nathan rolled his eyes, gesturing Surak to one of the seats, before beckoning the General to do the same. "Come on General, you don't want to be standing up for this." 

"Thirty seconds to intercept," JD called out to Chris from the co-pilot's seat. 

Sliding into the ops station, Chris looked through the cockpit window and saw the panoramic view of the Forge coming to greet them. In the distance, Seleya stood majestically against the red Vulcan sky, playing the part of an indifferent observer to the battle about to take place. It probably wasn't the first conflict Seleya had seen throughout its history. 

"Vin, I want you to get behind them when we reach those ships." 

Without needing to hear Chris elaborate, Vin knew immediately what his Captain and best friend intended. "I'll get us close enough to tap them on the behind." 

As it was, the runabout was moving at maximum burn, and it was still faster than anything the Vulcans possessed at this time in their history. Beyond the cockpit windows, the world became a blur of red as the ship accelerated. 

From his seat, Stef saw the burst of speed and felt his jaw drop in shock. No vehicle he knew could move so fast through the atmosphere. While extreme velocities were achieved when they left the gravitational field of the homeworld, these levels of speed across the surface were not possible. In a day of marvels, Stef thought again about the battle he had seen during the mind touch and wondered who these people were. They possessed incredible technology and yet were nearly destroyed by the enemy in that terrifying ship. 

The same enemy now in his city. 

Once Vin hit the thrusters at full speed, the Cimarron closed the distance between itself and Sudoc’s slicers in a matter of seconds. The seven ships were just beyond the reach of the first patch of green making up Shi’Kahr’s agricultural belt. Knowing those fields were part of the reason Shi’Kahr maintained its autonomy, Vin made sure the enemy ships had no opportunity to do any harm as he prepared to fly right through their formation. 

“Hold on!” The helmsman offered a warning as he faced the seven ships, nose to nose.. 

“They are charging weapons,” Ezra announced as the occupants of the cockpit saw the enemy vessels in front of them.

Chris checked the op station and noted Ezra had raised shields as ordered and considering runabout shields were almost as formidable as those on a galaxy-class ship, the Captain was confident they could take the fire without any damage. 

“Our shields are up Vin, just keep going.” 

“DIdn’t plan on anything else, Chris,” Vin said confidently as the gap between the ships dwindled away. 

“They are firing!” 

Vin was ready for that. No sooner than Ezra made the announcement, the Cimarron banked hard to port and then to starboard as it weaved past the volley of laser bolts fired upon the runabout. Even if the Cimarron’s shields were able to shrug off the blasts, Vin had no wish to put his ship through the abuse if it could be avoided. As the thought crossed his mind, one of the bolts struck the hull, and though it shuddered through the runabout, there was no other effect from the bombardment. 

“Shields are holding,” Chris stated from Ops. 

“They are using old-style laser cannons,” Ezra remarked, “I doubt they would even scorch our paintwork.” 

“Let’s not get cocky,” Chris tossed his security chief a look. “Ezra, as soon as you have a firing solution, take out their engines. I want them down, not destroyed.”

Looking ahead, Chris could see the Cimarron flying past the phalanx of ships. Vin was riding the controls with such expertise, the Cimarron passed each ship effortlessly until the runabout had gotten behind them as Chris asked. The ships were scattered, attempting to regroup when Vin performed a tight loop that saw them all staring briefly at T’Khut before the manoeuvre completed with a corkscrew roll that placed the rear of all seven ships directly in front of the runabout. 

“You got your shot, Ezra. Only thing I ain’t done is paint targets on their asses for you.” 

“Lovely Mr Tanner,” Ezra rolled his eyes at Vin’s lovely phrasing. “Firing phasers.” 

Making sure his aim was at their engines only, Ezra was aware of what Federation phaser banks would do to these ancient ships if he made a direct hit. A single shot would obliterate the ships and Ezra had no stomach killing an enemy who never had a chance of winning. 

One by one Chris saw the runabout’s weapons fire, each bolt of phaser fire striking the ships as if Ezra was aiming to scuff their paint, not actually hit them. Then again, Ezra was as formidable a marksman with the firing controls of a ship as he was a cardsharp. Each ship flared with amber as systems onboard were critically damaged and they began to fall away, one after the others, forced back into the desert. 

“Nice shooting Ezra,” Chris complimented.

“I do try,’ Ezra flash his Captain a smirk, and Chris was glad to see it. Since Julia’s assimilation, it had been a rare occurrence. 

“Captain,” JD said suddenly, his expression troubled. The young man was scanning the area during the firefight and had noticed something moving extremely close to the ground. He hadn’t thought it was a ship because it was moving slowly like a terrestrial craft. However, now that it was past the perimeter of the city, it was gaining altitude. 

“What?” Chris didn’t like the sound of JD’s voice. 

“I think they snuck a ship past us,” JD replied. “They made it look like a land transport, but it’s reached Shi’Kahr.” 

“Damn,” Chris cursed. “Vin!”

“Yeah I’m on it,” Vin didn’t need any more instruction than that as he guided the Cimarron towards the coordinates JD just fed into navigation. 

“Where is it headed?”

“Towards T’hossuth,” JD looked up confused. “Right to the Borg.” 

Sudoc did not know what sort of force would greet the ships he'd sent ahead to deal with the Shi'Kahr, but with the chaos reported gripping the city, he knew they would provide him with sufficient distraction to slip through unseen. 

The voices were growing louder in his mind but continued to speak with perfect unity. Their single-minded focus fascinated Sudoc, and he was determined to learn how they achieved such harmony. So far, it required his very formidable ability to mind touch to keep control of his generals so they would work his will without question. If those bonds could be maintained in some other fashion, then Sudoc was eager to learn how. 

His small craft flew beneath the notice of all of Shi'Kahr's scanners and defences, hugging the arid sands of the Forge so tightly they were not identified as a ship, but a ground transport. As they neared the city, Sudoc's shock registered as he saw the level of destruction. The tall, majestic spires were shrouded in the dark smoke billowing from multiple sources across Shi'Kahr. While it should have filled Sudoc with some measure of satisfaction seeing the ancient city in such conditions, the only emotion he felt was astonishment.

If anything, Shi'Kahr's distress only proved the formidable power wielded by this invader. 

Entering the city, he saw the evacuation continuing as he and his personal guard flew neared the source of all the chaos. No one paid them any attention because Sudoc had made sure the craft he was using to make his approach would be easily dismissed as just another local transport returning to the city. Over the years, a number of his agents had infiltrated Shi'Kahr in this way, bringing him intelligence, but it was the first time the tyrant entered the city himself. 

As he moved through the districts towards the source of the invasion, Sudoc watched the crowds running away in panic, ushered to safety by Law Guardians on transports or by foot. Despise them as he might, Sudoc couldn't deny the bravery of the city's occupants to stand against him on previous confrontations. To see them in such a heightened state of panic was jarring since not even ground troops appeared to be advancing toward the enemy. The aerial bombardment from above ceased, and Sudoc wondered if it was because they were engaging his ships, or were uncertain what to do against an opponent they seemed incapable of stopping. 

"Sire, we are here," Aken, the pilot at the controls of the small shuttle, announced when the vehicle came to a stop. 

Sudoc peered through the cockpit window and saw nothing but devastation. What buildings that remained standing were little more than unstable lengths of wall, ready to collapse at the first mild tremor. The bombardment from above turned the streets into rubble, and if there was anyone about, he could not see them. Although it was still dark, the area was lit by the still-burning fires. It never really became dark on Vulcan anyway, so he was able to see much of this without difficulty. 

The landing was punctuated by a loud metal clang followed by the crunching sounds of the struts digging into the fragmented gravel of the ruined streets. Sudoc was on his feet immediately, eager to find the enemy, certain once he saw them, he would be able to connect with them in a way the Shi'Kahr were unable. Once that link was established, there was nothing beyond his reach. Not Shi'Kahr, not Vulcan, not even the Tellar, or the Andor on their icy world. 

"Sire," Natok, the chief of his guards spoke up when Sudoc went to the hatch first, preparing to step through the instant it slid open. "Perhaps we should go first. We do not know what is out there. If the Shi'Kahr are so afraid of these strangers, it would be wise to exercise caution." 

Sudoc shot him a warning look. "Do you think I am a fool Natok? I have taken this into consideration already, I will lead the way.” 

The warning was sharp enough for Natok to suppress any further comment. The warlord had killed men for less, and although Sudoc allowed him some measure of freedom to speak his mind, Natok knew he had tugged at his leash as far as it was permitted. The rest of the guards did not meet his eyes, choosing to stare straight ahead, hiding their apprehension at what awaited outside, especially after Sudoc's sharp rebuke. 

"Of course Sire," he nodded and engaged the hatch door to open. 

Smokey air seeped into the cabin as soon as the hatch slid open. The thick fumes made it difficult to breathe, but his guards were seasoned warriors unhindered by such things. Sudoc himself was not an armchair general. The warlord had acquired his power by fighting alongside his men. They not only feared his ferocity in battle but also respected him for it. 

Following him closely as he descended the ramp, Natok's weapon was drawn, scanning the ruin that was the district’s square, illuminated by multiple fires throughout the area. Sudoc went on ahead, his mental abilities providing him with all the navigation he needed to find this Collective. While the others in his company surveyed the area, remaining alert as they prepared to face the enemy responsible for the hasty evacuation, Sudoc was walking through the piles of rubble, perfectly aware of where he was going. 

It was also why he saw them first. 

As they turned to him, beams of crimson crossed the space between them. Sudoc turned away from the piercing glare, robbing him of the ability to study them straight away. There were at least six of them, surrounding the wreckage of a downed hovercar. When he blinked away the spots in his eyes, he saw they were scavenging the wreckage, like carrion eaters feasting on the leftovers of a le-matya kill. 

Pale skinned, they were almost entirely encased in some form of dark armour, only their faces were exposed. One eye was concealed beneath an ocular implant, and they appeared genderless. At the sight of him and his entourage, the Collective abandoned what were doing immediately and began walking towards them.

"Sire," Natok warned again, this time the anxiety in his voice was unmistakable. "Perhaps...."

"I sense no threat in their thoughts," Sudoc quickly stilled the guardsmen's fear. He could feel the tremor in the minds of the others behind him. Natok's manner was frightening the others, and Sudoc resolved to deal with the man once they returned to Jaleyl. "Remain still. This is an alliance worth cultivating if we can still our fear."

Natok didn't respond, but Sudoc could sense the discordant thoughts in his mind, the doubt that broke Sudoc's conditioning because of fear. Sudoc ignored it for now because the Collective was approaching and he wished nothing to interrupt this audience. Standing his ground, he could hear the uncomfortable shifting behind him and felt a surge of annoyance that his men were showing weakness to the enemy. 

One did not parlay with a sehlat, by baring one's throat. 

When they were close enough, he saw the leader of the group to be rather slight in stature, despite the intimidating armour covering their bodies. In fact, if Sudoc didn't know better, he would have sworn the leader was a woman. It was in the curve of her jaw and the fullness of her lips. Her complexion was supple and smooth, lacking the ruddiness of a man’s. 

"Greetings," Sudoc spoke as the leader, who he was now sure was a woman, continued her advance. 

As the others followed her a few paces behind, Sudoc studied them carefully and felt an uncharacteristic surge of anxiety by their approach. Some of them were Vulcan, but others were of species he did not recognise. The woman who led the way was almost certainly not Vulcan, and Sudoc realised he had no idea what species she was. The eye not maimed by an implant was the most vibrant shade of green he had ever seen. It made him wonder what they would look like if not for the device attached to her face. 

Was their unity achieve through machinery? Was such a thing even possible? As they advanced, Sudoc suddenly realised what they looked like when they walked, like beasts of burden yoked to the same wheel. 

The woman did not reply and closed the distance, now merely a few feet away from him. 

"Sire," Natok spoke up again, his voice indicating he no longer cared for the consequences for speaking out of turn. "I think we should withdraw. They may see us as the enemy." 

"Nonsense," Sudoc dismissed it, mostly because the idea he could be wrong was unimaginable. Facing front again, Sudoc made another attempt to communicate, convinced the Collective was reaching out to him. "We have come a long way to see you. I heard your mind touch and believe we seek the same things. I too wish to speak with a single mind, to lead my people without the voices of others sowing the seeds of discord. I wish to make an alliance." 

"Sire..." Natok warned again, his discomfort rising to the extreme at the sight of that expressionless face staring at his master with indifference. 

Without warning, her hand shot out, gripping Sudoc's bicep with such force, he could feel cold fingers digging into his skin.

"Alliances are irrelevant," she spoke for the first time. " You are irrelevant." 

At the same time, Sudoc's understanding of the Collective was undergoing serious adjustment, the Cimarron descended from the sky to set down a few meters away from the warlord's transport. Leaving the seven slicers they had shot down to languish in the heated dunes of the Forge, the runabout returned swiftly to T'hossuth once again, hoping to prevent Sudoc from inadvertently increasing the Borg's numbers by their incursion. 

After hearing what Stef had to say about the warlord, Chris could guess Sudoc's plan quickly enough. No doubt Sudoc, who probably kept Shi'Kahr under surveillance, was intending to use the city's crisis to his advantage. Sudoc perhaps believed he could use the weakened state of Shi'Kahr's defences to make his covert entry, so he could take the city or contact the enemy responsible for the trouble. Sudoc's monumental arrogance, Chris decided, was just misguided enough to keep him from seeing the danger was not only to Shi'Kahr but the whole of Vulcan. 

In any other situation, Chris would give Sudoc some credit for coming up with such a devious idea. After all, Sudoc's previous failures to take Shi'Kahr had proven the city's defences would be difficult to breach without some out of the box thinking. The Borgs' unexpected arrival in Shi'Kahr revealed the existence of an enemy, the city could not overcome and probably made Sudoc think he could use the opportunity to finally conquer the city. Whatever his plans, Chris knew one thing and one thing only. 

Sudoc had no idea what he was dealing with. 

"What's their location?" Chris asked as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Ezra, as JD took over operations and was preparing to disengage the hatch door so they could leave. Chris wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible before the power-hungry son of a bitch got himself and his small force assimilated, and expanded the Borg ranks even more. 

Ezra was already checking his tricorder for an answer, not entirely happy to be back here again, especially with the Borg's numbers what they were. However, there was no way he was allowing his Captain to go out there on his own. 

"If I have read the readings on the tricorder correctly, I believe they are twenty-five meters, west of our direction." 

"Good," Chris nodded, glad they didn't have far to go. "Nathan, if they're implanted, can we stop the nanoprobes from going any further?"

Behind him, Nathan Jackson was securing his phaser onto his belt, leaving it the last bit of equipment to be fastened since he was more interested in preparing his medkit for the excursion outside. The healer looked up at the Captain's question and replied promptly, having worked on the problem of assimilation long before he arrived on the Maverick as its CMO.

"I can put them in a medically induced coma. Cybernetics or not, they still require organic function to complete the process of assimilation. If I can disrupt the nanoprobes functioning, I can keep it dormant long enough for us to get back to the Maverick and do a proper extraction." 

The idea of bringing any of the locals back to the Maverick did not sit well with the Captain, but at this point, they had little choice. Hopefully, they could do this with some finesse and ensure their visitors saw nothing than the inside of Sick Bay during their treatment. 

"Alright, that's something at least."

Meanwhile, Chris saw Vin giving the General a quick lesson in how to handle the phaser Stef had been provided with. Although Chris would never usually allow any non-Maverick personnel near one of their phasers, it was necessary to establish some trust between them and the Vulcan commander. Besides, there was no way, Stef was accompanying them without one. 

Chris had forgone the attempt to advise Stef to remain on the runabout with his son because he knew it would be ignored. If this were his home where he raised his family, Chris would expect to be involved in any activity engaged in protecting if not leading it. As it was, Chris was somewhat surprised the General was taking his orders, but then remembered Stef was no fool, the Vulcan understood he was a novice when dealing with this enemy. 

"You're going to get no more than half a dozen shots," Vin explained as Stef held the weapon in his hands, testing the feel of it against his palm. "They adapt quickly. We'll have just enough time to reach Sudoc and his people if they haven't been assimilated, and get away from them before they swamp us." 

"We should let them take him," Stef grumbled, hating the conflict he felt between wishing to keep Sudoc from receiving his just punishment, and the desire to let the man rot for all the pain he caused to so many across Vulcan. "He will not be grateful." 

"You're probably right," Vin could not disagree, especially with what he learned about the man. Sudoc was nothing short of a mass murderer, but the warlord had a part to play in the future of Vulcan. It would be Sudac's cruelty that would turn the people of Vulcan to a different way of thinking, one not so steeped in bloodshed. Surak's path of logic or chtia as Mary called it, would offer Vulcan the lifeline it needed to survive its impending self-destruction. "But he'll just become a different problem if he becomes a drone." 

Stef let out a sigh, as if he agreed begrudgingly, even if he did not like it. He had seen Sudoc's barbarism first hand to be moved by any idea of mercy for the tyrant. However, Stef was not about to sacrifice his own moral centre for vengeance. Too much of his people were already ruled by such passions. 

"You are right I suppose. One does not defeat the enemy by becoming them. It makes the fight pointless." 

Vin glanced at Stef a moment, wondering if Surak's developing philosophy would be seeded by the influence of his father. The General didn't behave like a hot-head who was ready to slaughter everything in sight, to hear the way Vulcans described their ancestors. 

"Father," Surak came up to them, "I should go with you..."

"Hell no," Vin stated before he could stop himself. 

The vehemence of the refusal made Stef look up at him with some surprise. Vin swore under his breath, aware his reaction would only deepen Stef's curiosity on the subject. So far, the General knew they were from another world, he had yet to realise they were also from another time. Since arriving on Vulcan, Vin had begun to understand his people were not the cold, bloodless automatons Vin thought they were. For the first time in his life, he felt a kinship to his species and even if he would never embrace Surak's philosophy, Vin was determined to protect it. 

"Vin is right, my son," Stef shook away Vin's reaction for the moment. However, when the opportunity arose, he was determined they would revisit the subject. "You must stay here for now." He placed his hand on the boy's shoulder before glancing at the rear of the runabout, where S'tash was seated, staring through a window at the ruined tableau outside. "S'tash may have lost his family, we must show him he is not alone. Sometimes, a warrior can do his best, by not fighting but helping." 

Surak glanced at the frightened young boy and nodded, too conditioned to obey Stef to protest. "I will take care of him, father." 

Chris and Vin exchanged glances at Stef's words to his son and though neither Captain or helmsman said it, their unspoken agreement to ensure Stef survived this affair became set in stone. 

"JD," Chris called out to the navigator who was at helm control "Keep an eye on our guests and leave the engine running. We might need a quick extraction if things go to hell."

"Aye Sir," JD nodded, having received his instructions directly from the Captain earlier on. While he did not like the idea of remaining behind, he knew the task the Captain assigned him was equally important. No matter what, Surak had to survive. If anything went wrong during their Away mission, then JD's orders were to get out of here with Surak. 

"Alright," Chris regarded the landing party, "let's do this." 

The hatch slid open, and the fumes of smoky air immediately flooded the inside of the runabout. Outside, the scene greeting them was no different than what they found when they landed in T'hossuth and found S'tash in that sewer, and Chris had seen Buck and almost killed his oldest friend. Leading the way, the Captain descended the ramp and was no more than a few steps past the doorway when he heard the discharging bursts of energy through the air. 

There and then, Chris knew Sudoc's hopes of forging some kind of relationship with the Borg had gone to complete and utter hell. 

The repeated bursts of energy, no doubt from Vulcan blasters, told the Away Team the meeting between Sudoc and the Borg ended up the way they expected it to. Judging from the intensity of the blaster fire, the weapons were having little or no effect on the Borg. As the strength of the barrage continued, it was clear Sudoc's party was descending into a panic because the Borg were closing in. 

"Come on!" Chris shouted, breaking into a run as he waved the others to follow, so they could reach Sudoc and his people before it was too late. 

Her grip was like iron. 

Her fingers dug into his skin, and Sudoc thought for a moment, they felt like sehlat claws. Before he had time to register this, her other hand reached out. This time the pain was not the death grip of the first, it was sharp and piercing, making him cry out by the surprise of it. It was as if the same sehlat clutching his shoulder had finally sunk in its sharp nails into his skin. However, instead of poison, something else was invading his body, something whose trajectory took it straight to the brain. 

It swept across him like the desert winds of the Forge, burning down his will with little or no difficulty. Only his mental abilities provided some kind of resistance, but it was being eroded quickly. He could feel it spreading throughout his body, tiny mechanical invaders who moved through his bloodstream with the same mechanical locomotion displayed by the Collective when they approached. As the infestation moved through him, Sudoc understood at last how the Collective achieved its unity and even he was horrified by the idea. 

Not unity, he managed to think. Slavery. 

As the horror of his mistake thoroughly impressed itself upon his mind, he saw her staring at him, with no expression on her face, no triumph, no gloating or even pleasure. She was like he was soon to be, empty of all thoughts that were her own. What she did was driven by some unseen force, some bit of programming she could not escape. Like him, she had been raw material. 

In that second, Sudoc realised he was seconds away from becoming the same monstrosity she was. 

No! He would not let it end this way! He was Sudoc! He rose from nothing, with blood under his nails and the mind touch with no equal on all of Vulcan. He would not fall to these soulless creatures. With the same will Sudoc used to claim all of Vulcan, save this city he was in, the mad tyrant lifted his heavy arm, fighting to maintain control as his fingers extended out for the only exposed part of her body he could touch, her temple.

The connection was immediate, and it was enough. 

Concentrating hard against the black tide sweeping over his mind, he ignored the pull into the darkness and knew that if he did not prevail, all of Vulcan would be swallowed by this same nightmare. For the first time in his life, Sudoc acted not just for his sake but out of fear for his people and used the only weapon he had at his disposal.

Ezra Standish froze in his tracks when he heard the scream. 

Everyone stopped moving, albeit for different reasons. Chris stopped running too, not because of the familiar scream or the voice Ezra would know anywhere, but because Vin who had been keeping pace with him, suddenly collapsed to the ground. So complete was Vin's debilitation, the Vulcan was on his hands and knees, the phaser in his grip having dropped out of his palm, creating a small cloud of dust when it landed on the ash-covered ground. While one hand was propping Vin up from landing face down in the dirt, the other was clutching the side of his head, his face contorted in agony as if someone had driven an ice pick through his skull.

"Vin, what's wrong?" Chris dropped down beside him, uncertain what was happening but convinced whatever it might be, was nothing short of excruciating by the way Vin was shaking as he struggled to control the pain. 

"Sudoc!" Stef grunted, approaching both men. While the older Vulcan was wearing a grimace, he was nowhere in Vin's state. "Sudoc has used the Last Thought!" 

"The what?" Nathan blurted out as he skidded to the ground next to Vin, ready to help. 

"The Last Thought!" Stef managed to say, obviously in discomfort but nowhere to the degree, Vin was suffering.

Chris's eyes widened. "Nathan put him under now!" 

"What?" Nathan stared at him in confusion. 

"DO IT!" 

The intensity in Chris's voice made Nathan jumped, and without argument, the healer snatched up a hypospray from his medkit and pressed the device to Vin's neck. No sooner than he'd depressed the trigger, the Vulcan slumped unconscious to the gravel without another word. 

"You know of the Last Thought?" Stef stared at Chris. 

"I know about the Killing Gift," Chris nodded, recalling what Mary had said to him before she transported back to the Maverick. "But not that Sudoc had it." 

"What is it?" Nathan demanded, not liking anything referred to as the Killing Gift. 

"Some Vulcans," Chris explained, "who are extremely powerful telepaths, can produce physical reactions in neurological functions. In other words, they can use it to kill." 

"Your friend," Stef added, uncertain how he felt about this Outlier knowing so much about their ways, "has no discipline to fight someone with Sudoc's mastery. Sudoc has gained the power he has because he uses the Last Thought to kill. The reason he has not taken Shi'Kahr is that the Elders of Kolinahr and Amonak also have the gift and have taught us how to shield against it." 

"You think Sudoc used it against the Borg?" Nathan looked at Chris as he ran his tricorder over Vin to ensure the unconscious Vulcan suffered no ill effects from his ordeal.

Chris was about to respond when he noticed something else. 

"Where the hell is Ezra?" 

Ezra arrived to find who he was sure to be Sudoc, kneeling on the ground, surrounded by more than a dozen bodies, Vulcan and Borg. He was clutching his skull with both hands and as Ezra rounded him, with phaser drawn, saw the rivulet of dark green blood running down his lips from his nostrils. Sudoc was shaking, but Ezra didn't imagine it was from the cold, not with how dry and warm the air was blowing across his face.

Lying in front of Sudoc was a Borg, and it took only a fraction for Ezra to realise it was Julia. 

Ezra bolted forward, forgetting the Vulcan entirely because, for the first time since this nightmare with the Borg began, he was finally able to get close enough to her. Ezra had no doubt the other Borg were on their way, and they would have to move fast, but he was going nowhere without her, not now she was within reach. 

Julia lay on her back unmoving, her undamaged eye closed, while the ocular implant that covered the rest of her lovely face, was dark. Somehow, she had been disabled, and Ezra had no idea if her connection to the Collective was permanently or temporarily severed. 

"JULIA!" Ezra reached her, and his presence snapped Sudoc out of his disoriented state. 

"Who are you?" The warlord demanded. 

"What did you do?" Ezra ignored Sudoc's question as he rolled Julia onto his lap and saw no signs of life. Like the rest of the Borg, she was unmoving. A surge of fear ran through Ezra thinking he might have gotten to her too late. If Sudoc had killed her, then Ezra was almost certainly going to return the favour. 

"She was in my mind," Sudoc tried to explain. The fog in his mind was clearing, allowing him to see he was not speaking to another Vulcan, but an Outlier, whose species Sudoc did not recognise and was similar to the unconscious woman. Sudoc was weak and was in no condition to fight. What he had done almost crippled him by the effort, but the alternative was worse. "I had to stop her." 

Ezra was no longer listening. He ran the tricorder over her body because the Borg machinery made it difficult for him to tell if she was alive. For the millisecond before the tricorder offered him its findings, Ezra prayed to every god that was ever worshipped since time began, for her life. 

The display flashed its readings and Ezra exhaled loudly, almost afraid to breathe. She was alive, almost in a coma, but nevertheless, still among the living. In fact, all of the Borg seemed to be in the same state. The Vulcans however, were not. Whatever Sudoc had done, he'd killed his own people to free himself. The Borg, no stranger to telepathy themselves, probably realised what was happening and ordered the shutdown, saving the drones from death. 

It saved Julia too and gave Ezra for the first time in too long, hope. 

“NATHAN!” 

Chris did not know what shocked him more, the jolting cry from one of his officers, or the realisation it was coming from Ezra Standish. 

In all the years they served together, even before the Maverick, there was one constant in his universe, nothing could shake Ezra’s composure so thoroughly, he could be reduced to the raw panic Chris now heard in his voice. While Stef exhibited the natural reaction of surprise to the outburst, both Nathan and Chris exchanged a quick glance of astonishment at the fear they could hear in Ezra’s voice. It sent alarm through them both and Chris could see Nathan was poised to react, waiting only for his permission to proceed. 

“Go!” Chris ordered immediately, his words sending Nathan into a sprint towards the source of Ezra’s frantic cry. 

Vin Tanner was still sprawled across the floor, while Stef was kneeling over him, the Vulcan general’s fingers pressed against his temple, making sure the younger man was not harmed permanently after his brief brush with the Last Thought. His best friend was still unconscious, thanks to whatever concoction Nathan had administered to him under Chris’s order when he understood what it was Stef was warning him against. 

“Is he alright?” Chris asked, wanting to go after Nathan and Ezra, but needing to deal with Vin first. 

“He is well,” Stef raised his eyes to Chris. “Your actions saved his life. If the Killing Gift had been allowed to run its course, he would be dead by now.”

Chris suspected as much. Mary had warned him some Vulcan’s had extreme mental abilities which could be used to such effect, but until he saw Vin’s reaction to it, Chris had not really believed it. In the 24th century, Vulcans would find it obscene to use their telepathy in such a fashion. Thanks to Surak’s philosophy, the mind touch as Stef called it would be used for mating bonds and spiritual enlightenment, not a ruthless if not a somewhat elegant weapon of murder.

“We have to keep moving,” Chris said quickly, mindful of the fact they were in Borg controlled territory and drones could be advancing upon them at any minute. “Can you go on ahead?” Chris looked to the General. “If Sudoc is present, my people may not be able to deal with his powers. It appears you can.” 

“Yes, of course,” Stef nodded. “Although my ability is limited. I can keep him out but little more than that. He is the most powerful adept of the mind touch there is on all of Vulcan. It is how he controls his armies.” 

Chris didn’t like the sound of that, but in hearing it, an idea began to form in his head. Setting it aside for the moment, because the immediate situation needed attendance, Chris regarded Stef again. “You need to go, and I need to deal with Vin. I’ll be right behind you.” 

Stef nodded in understanding, sensing the Outlier needed privacy and stood up quickly, before jogging away in the direction Nathan had gone. 

Once Stef rounded the street corner and was out of sight, Chris tapped the combadge he’d had hidden in his clothes. 

“Captain Larabee to the Maverick.” 

The response was almost instantaneous.

“Captain!” Alex Styles’s voice responded immediately, and Chris knew she had most likely been waiting anxiously for his signal since he ordered her and Mary back to the ship. “Are you and the Away Team alright?”

“Yeah we’re fine, more or less,” Chris replied, glancing at Vin’s unconscious form. “Alex I need you to lock onto Vin’s com badge and transport him back to the Maverick immediately. Even without seeing her, he imagined she was tensing with worry by that news. “He’s not hurt, but we’ve had to sedate him for his own good. I need him somewhere safe until he comes out of it.” 

“Aye Sir.” 

Although she maintained her professional air, Chris had no doubt she was probably burning with curiosity to know why such an action was necessary. Fortunately, for now, she appeared ready to take him at his word Vin was not injured.

“Captain, we’ve raised the cloak and have entered the upper atmosphere. We’re currently holding position above Shi’Kahr awaiting your instructions.” 

Chris glanced upwards on reflex, trying to see the Maverick through the amber Vulcan sky and only saw T’Khut staring back at him, instead of his beloved ship. Yet it felt comforting to know she was there waiting. 

“We are also tracking a lot of Borg in the area. At present, they’re about 200 metres away from you and closing. It’s a good bet they know you’re there. You need to leave the area immediately.” 

“Understood,” Chris surveyed the place with a quick sweep of his gaze, trying to see if he could gain a visual of any Borg through the dancing flames engulfing the ruined buildings and smouldering streets. The sudden hum of the transporter made him return his attention to Vin, and the helmsman’s form was briefly awash with gold glitter before the transport beam took him back to the Maverick. 

“We’ve got Vin now,” Alex informed him a second later. 

“Good,” Chris said with relief. “Alex, I’m going to keep an open channel. Monitor my transmissions and await further instructions.” 

When Nathan reached Ezra, he almost froze in his steps at the sight of drones scattered across the ground like the place was an open graveyard. In the middle of them, Ezra Standish was cradling in his lap one of the drones who Nathan knew without having to look was Julia. Not far from him, a Vulcan was kneeling down on all fours, looking quite green, well greener than usual, and Nathan presumed this was Sudoc. His healer’s instincts kicking in, Nathan’s first act was to use his medical tricorder to scan the unmoving drones. He prayed Ezra’s panic had not been because they were all dead. 

Nathan needed to know if any of these Borg could be saved. To him, the Borg weren’t the enemy, they were a mechanical virus trapping its victims in a living death. Nathan viewed every drone he encountered, not as enemy combatants, but victims of a malignancy. They were screaming for help beneath a nearly impregnable cocoon of nanoprobes and technology. When the display revealed life signs in the green, he relaxed a little but not much. These drones were offline, but Nathan had no idea for how long. 

Among them, were not just the Vulcans assimilated in the last day, but also Maverick crew. He recognised familiar faces and realised with a sudden burst of insight, in this condition, there was a chance to save them. If he could get them back to Sick Bay quickly enough, there was a chance he could remove the Borg implants before the Collective exerted control of the drones again. 

“Can you help her?” Ezra demanded as soon as he made eye contact with the Chief Medical Officer. 

“Captain!” Nathan ignored him and tapped his own combadge. “Captain Larabee, I need authorisation for transport back to the ship immediately.” 

“I’m almost to your location, what’s happening?” 

“Captain, we’ve found several drones offline. If I can get them back to the Maverick right away, we can disconnect them from the Collective permanently.” 

“Are you absolutely sure about that?” 

Behind him, Stef appeared on the scene, similarly shocked by what he was witnessing, as this was his first glimpse of the enemy who invaded his city. The Vulcan General surveyed the area before he turned to Sudoc, who was still recovering from the mental grenade he had flung at the Borg to neutralise them as he had. 

“Yes Sir,” Nathan said, not about to tell Chris it was not at all an easy procedure and he had no idea how much time he had to get this done. Nevertheless, it was the best shot they had of retrieving their people and freeing them from Borg captivity. 

“Alex, are you listening?” Chris’s reply echoed not only through the combadge but from behind them. The Captain was running to catch up to them. 

“Aye Captain,” Alex’s voice replied promptly. “We’re locking onto their signal now.” 

“Good,” Chris paused briefly to survey the scene he was entering, taking note that Stef had overcome his shock at what he was seeing to approach Sudoc, the phaser provided to him, drawn and aimed towards the tyrant. “Beam them directly to the brig, with a level one force field erected and an armed security team on hand. If any of them so much as twitch, I want the cells flooded with anaesthesine gas.” 

Nathan wanted to protest and demand they be sent to Sick Bay until he realised that allowing these drones onto the ship risked the rest of the Maverick and the Captain could be pragmatic when it came to the lives of his crew. 

“Aye Captain,” Alex nodded. “I’ll have security on standby and if necessary, shut down all power to those areas if they’re revived prematurely.” 

“Outstanding,” Chris nodded with approval and knew if Ezra was in any mind to comment right now, he would probably take the same precautions. “Initiate transport now.”

Mary was going to give him hell about using their technology in front of Sudoc and Stef. Right now, Chris was beyond taking note of how many regulations he had violated since this mission to Vulcan began. 

“Chris,” Nathan looked at him. “I gotta do this myself....”

“I know,” Chris expected nothing less. “Alex, Nathan is coming up. Beam him directly to Sick Bay, we don’t know how long the drones are going to be offline, but I’m guessing with the Borg it won’t be long.” 

“Who are these Outliers you have allied yourself with?” Sudoc who had recovered enough to find his voice accused Stef who was standing guard over him. 

“They are here to help us you fool!” Stef bit back, not forgetting just how Sudoc managed to infiltrate his city, by sending fighters against Shi’Kahr while they were distracted by the Borg enemy. “What did you think you were doing? Striking an alliance with an enemy, you know nothing about?” 

“You have done no better,” Sudoc returned sharply, regarding the aliens who were in their midst. “What of these strangers?”

All of a sudden, a low hum filled the air and right in front of Sudoc and Stef’s startled eyes, Nathan and the Borg drones vanished in a shimmer of gold. Only Chris and Ezra remained behind after the transporter beam dissipated and Nathan, Julia and the drones disappeared from sight. Chris had no desire to let either of the Vulcans see this, but time was of the essence, and they had too little of it to waste time trying to mask their technology. Ezra was staring into the sky, and Chris wished he could let the security chief leave with Nathan, but Chris needed him here for now. 

Meanwhile, the effect of transporter technology on the two Vulcans was profound. While Stef managed to contain his shock a little better, possibly expecting the presence of advanced technology with what he had seen during the meld with Vin, Sudoc was nowhere as silent. The mad tyrant as he was called gaped in shock as the sudden absence of the Borg as well as Nathan Jackson. 

“What power is this?” Sudoc demanded, whirling around to study Chris in a new light. 

“It’s a form of matter transference technology,” Chris explained quickly and hope that would suffice for the moment.

Sudoc’s eyes narrowed in calculation, and without possessing any ability to mind touch, the Captain of the Maverick could guess the thoughts running through the man’s head. 

“We’re not here to make alliances with anyone,” Chris said firmly before the idea was fully seeded in Sudoc’s mind. “The enemy you came here to see, is trying to create a foothold in this quadrant of space, starting with Vulcan. Now I know you two are enemies right now, but for the sake of your planet, you need to put aside your differences because this enemy is greater than you can possibly imagine. We have seen it destroy billions, on countless worlds. If they aren’t stopped, every living thing in this sector of space becomes like them. Do you understand?”

Sudoc balked at the idea of forming any kind of alliance with the Shi’Kahr until he remembered what he saw in the mind of the female during their mental connection. The insidious creep of minuscule machine invaders rampaging through the skin, intending to turn him into something barely human, incapable of feeling, individual thought. He saw in her mind, the terror of the faces taken, the great ship that hurtled into space like a piece of space flotsam, resembling some ancient dark beast, you’d pray would pass you by because if it stopped, existence would end with three words. 

Resistance is futile. 

No matter what he thought of the Shi’Kahr, how repulsive the idea of mutual cooperation was, he had to concede wisdom of the Outliers words. 

“If this enemy is so great, what is it you think we can do?” Sudoc asked the words felt bitter in his mouth. 

Chris Larabee did not speak, because the idea seeded earlier was now starting to grow, a seedling in his mind growing under the heat of the sun. For the first time, since this began, he wasn’t reacting to the situation. He had a plan. 

Without another word, he drew his phaser and fired. 

Sudoc collapsed to the ground with one burst of energy. 

“What have you done?” Stef burst out, baffled by the Outlier’s actions after his rather convincing speech, they needed to work together. Not that he was terribly sorry to see Sudoc dispensed with, not after the cruelty the man exhibited across Vulcan. 

“He’s not dead,” Chris explained. “Merely rendered unconscious. I do not want him awake for what we’re about to do next. I trust you, but I don’t trust him.” 

The General almost smiled, but like all Vulcan’s, his amusement showed in the eyes. “I suppose that is one way to do it.” 

“No kidding,” Chris grinned and spoke up, addressing not Stef or Ezra who had moved away from them, scanning the area and probably collecting himself, but to Alex on board the Maverick. 

“Alex, four to transport from this location immediately, straight to the conference room. Tell JD to bring the Cimarron home, and I want all the Senior staff present ten minutes after I get back.” 

“Captain, are you sure?” Alex inquired, probably because she knew two of the signals at his location were not Maverick crew. 

“You heard me,” Chris repeated himself.

“Aye Sir,” the science office replied. 

“Captain!” Ezra hurried back to him. “Your timing could not be better, we need to leave immediately. The Borg are converging on our position.” 

“How many?”

Ezra stared at him. “ All of them.” 

Her designation was Two of Twenty-Three, Secondary Adjutant of Unimatrix 376. 

No, that wasn’t right. She was something else before. In the dark place she inhabited, she knew there was more, that the designation Two of Twenty-Three, was a new thing. There was something else before, something elusive that remained just beyond her grasp. She tried to move towards its, but something that felt like black treacle made her movements sluggish as if it were trying to force her to remain in place. 

Yo u are Two of Twenty-Three, Secondary Adjutant of Unimatrix 376. The cold, mechanical voice that spoke with her voice stated this adamantly. 

Except she couldn’t hear the others. If she was Two of Twenty-Three, why were the others not speaking? Why was it so quiet in this dark place. Their voices ought to be filling her world, reminding her, she was not alone, but part of a Collective. If she wasn’t Two of Twenty Three, then what was she? 

“Hurry!” Nathan Jackson barked at Assistant Chief Engineer Chanu who at that moment was working hard at an open power relay within the confines of Sick Bay. Across the Maverick, in the brig and in Sick Bay, the Borg Nathan had transported on board were still unconscious and restrained. The entire medical team had gone to work immediately, hastily fitting each drone with a neural relay that connected directly to their cortical implants. 

“Almost there!” Chanu bit back, ignoring the doctor’s impatience as he tried to complete this intricate work. If he was anything but precise in what they were attempting to do, there wouldn’t be any reason to worry about whether or not the Borg came online again, the mistake would kill them all before that happened. “A few more seconds.”

Nathan was never one to rush anyone in their task when it came to the life of a patient, but instinct told Nathan they were running out of time. The Borg were highly resilient, and while the mental assault by Sudoc might have rendered them unconscious for a while, Nathan was not foolish enough to squander that time. 

“A few more seconds and you and I are going to be on Chris Larabee’s shit list for the next millennium if he comes back and finds his ship ass deep in Borg!” 

“Alright!” Chanu gave the doctor a look. “Initialising now!” 

Her name was Two of Four. 

Even as she settled on that as her designation, it still felt wrong. Once again, she was overcome with the sensation there was more. She was more. Once again, she tried to move, tried to break through the barrier keeping her from enlightenment, and the more she struggled, the thick her it became. Where were the voices that told her she was Two of Four? They were oddly silent, save one. 

Your designation is Two of Twenty-Three, Secondary Adjutant of Unimatrix 376. 

No, it wasn’t, she thought defiantly, it was something else, and she wondered where this burst of stubbornness was coming from because it was not the way of the Borg to sow disharmony. Yet, the more she heard the machine telling her who she was, the more she fought against it until a sudden spike of white-hot pain lanced through her. The pain had come so suddenly, there was no chance to fight it, and when it ripped through her mind, all she could do was scream. 

Yet as that agonising shriek escaped her, so did the black curtain around her memory shred like paper. Suddenly, it wasn’t just the pain that was making her cry out, but the onslaught of so many images. It crushed her mind with its weight, and as every corner of her psyche flared with colour, the way the void must have been when the universe was born, she knew something else too.

Her designation was not Two of Twenty-Three, Secondary Adjutant of Unimatrix 376, or even Two of Four. 

It was Julia Elizabeth Pemberton, and it never sounded as sweet to her hearing as when it was spoken with a pleasing charm of a southern accent. 

NEXT CHAPTER

BACK TO MAIN PAGE