Chapter Eight

Tuvok worked steadily on the thruster array, hoping that he could piece a few more working thrusters together out of the ones that were irreparable. He still required some tool that Torres would undoubtably bring back from the city. If she survived the attack, that is. He would have to determine an alternative course of action should she not return. It was the logical thing to do.

The rumble of an engine was heard through the quiet of the jungle, along with a mass of jovial voices. Clearly the raid was a successful one. Perhaps the Lieutenant was not killed after all. The voices finally came close enough for Tuvok to make out some of the conversation.

“Unbelievable! I’ve never seen anyone fight like that!”

“Forty-two! Who ever thought it possible? Howling and snarling all the way!”

“Like an enraged ti’hat!”

“Alu was a fool to challenge her!”

“Yeah Alu, you are lucky she didn’t kill you! I don’t think anyone could have stopped her from killing those Borg.”

“I only thought that-”

“A woman! You thought a woman could not be a warrior!! Perhaps she was right – if you had a woman in your head, you wouldn’t act like such a fool.”

The group continued to rave about Torres’s spectacular show during the raid while it moved into the camp. While the men poured into their tents, readying a celebration, the truck turned towards the shuttle. Torres climbed out of the driver’s seat after it stopped.

She, on the other hand, looked like she had just killed forty-two Borg. Her black and brown uniform jacket was missing completely, and the blue top worn beneath had several holes torn in it. Her clothing was soaked in blood and sweat, and the right side of her face was swollen and bruised. Her hair was pasted flatly to her head by the sweat.

She sat down near Tuvok, leaning on the side of the shuttle. “In the truck are enough spare parts and tools to fix most of the shuttle. With little creativity, that is.”

“I trust you are not too severely injured?” Tuvok inquired, with no sign of concern in his voice.

“Aside from the fact that I hurt all over,” she replied with a groan, “I feel just fine.”

“Perhaps you should rest,” Tuvok suggested, as he began to pull components out of the truck. “Tomorrow, we have a lot to accomplish.”

“Certainly not!” Torres slowly rose to her feet. “There’s still celebrating to do tonight. We killed every Borg soldier on this island that we could find. No one was assimilated, and very few men got killed. Plus, Oro feels it is time to retake Topachan, and wants to make plans for the crossing to the mainland tonight.”

“I must remind you Lieutenant, that I still have very serious objections about helping these people.”

“Tuvok, you are being stubborn,” Torres said. “We have every reason to help them. First, the Borg are attacking these people. The Prime Directive no longer applies to the situation because this civilization is already being interfered with, and by one that is considerably more advanced. Second, they asked for our help. Lastly, we are not giving them any access to our equipment that they could study and use to make advancements on their own technology. Besides, I don’t think any of the rules and regulations that are giving you any doubts about our situation had in mind a shuttlecraft crashed over fifty-five thousand light years from the Federation, on a world being assimilated by the Borg, a race that we, for all intents and purposes, are at war with.”

“You do have a valid point, Lieutenant,” Tuvok concluded. “But do you think that it is wise to help these people?”

“We’ve already had this discussion, Tuvok,” Torres said, drily.

“Indeed we have,” replied Tuvok. “Then, let us go and, ‘celebrate.’”

“That’s the spirit, Tuvok! Who knows, you might even enjoy yourself!”

“That is unlikely.”

—

Total annihilation. That was the only logical answer to Borg could come up with. The Federation was, in all respects, a serious threat to the Borg. How to deal with that threat in an efficient manner was a difficult question.

In the past, the Borg always used the fewest resources possible to accomplish the goals they had set forth. A planet needed assimilating, one cube was sent. But the Federation could handle a cube. They had already proven that.

What about more? If two cubes had been used in the first attack? NCC-1701-D could not have destroyed the second ship. The answer for the Federation could not be efficient. The answer was to overwhelm them. Highest priority must be assigned to their assimilation.

Federation species would be a valued addition to the Collective. They tended to have an ingenuity that could greatly improve the Borg. Problems like the ones that the Borg were facing with the Bint’Ari and the Khamish would be that much easier to solve.

So, four cubes was determined to be the ideal number to use. After the cubes destroyed any ships sent against them, they could go to work processing multiple planets, much faster than one cube alone could. There were over a hundred Federation worlds that would be defenseless in the face of the Borg.

Then, after the Federation was Borg, the Collective would move on. There were many civilizations in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants that would be ripe for the taking. Klingons, Romulans, Cardassians, Breen, Tholians, and many more. With a strong Borg presence in the area, it would only be a matter of time before those civilizations, too, would be Borg. Expansion into the Gamma Quadrant would then be a foregone conclusion, utilizing the wormhole nearby the planet of Species 2984. The assimilation of a shapeshifter would greatly enhance to Collective as well.

First, though, NCC-74656 would have to be dealt with. The Federation must not be allowed to send their ships into assimilated space. The assimilation of the Federation would begin with Voyager.

Five cubes were to be routed to Planet 0495. There they would gather, and begin their hunt for Voyager. The sixth cube, already at Planet 0495, would return to Bint’Ari and finish the assimilation that was going terribly wrong there. Then it would join the group of five, and find Voyager.

Then, it was on to Sector 001. The Federation would finally become Borg.

—

The celebration continued until well after dark. All that time, Tuvok resisted the urge to return to his repairs of the shuttle. It was the most logical course of action to remain, no matter how foolish, to show support of the decision to help the Bint’Ari. It was important that the representatives of the Federation appeared unified, no matter how much he and Torres disagreed. It would also be wise not to appear as if he were sulking. Vulcans did not sulk.

Finally, after most of the people went to sleep in their tents or passed out where they were standing, Oro, Torres, and a few other men Tuvok did not know gathered around the fire. Tuvok moved to join them.

“Tuvok!” called Oro when the Vulcan arrived. “A am pleased to see how much you are enjoying yourself!” Laughter broke out among the small group.

“The source of your jocularity is no doubt the fact that I am not capable of enjoying myself. I am certain then that is quite amusing to those of you who have less control over their emotions.”

The laughter continued. Torres herself was laughing, but at everyone. She knew that was a close that Tuvok would come to insulting someone, and she found that in itself quite funny.

“I assume the purpose of this gathering is to discuss plans for the attack on the capitol,” Tuvok said.

“You assume correctly!” exclaimed Oro with a smile. “My, your a bright fellow. We will begin as soon as Umi; Umi! Where are those maps!”

“I can’t find them!” a young voice called from a distance away.

“Damn kid,” mumbled Oro. “Oh well, I’ll just draw it right here!” Oro picked up a long stick, and began to draw what appeared to be a large continent onto the dirt.

“Anyway,” he began, while still drawing, “first we need to decide who is going to stay. We need a group of about ten or fifteen to watch over the women and the others.” By ‘the others,’ he meant those who had their others assimilated by the Borg. “Also, they would have to comb the city, building by building, room by room, and kill any Borg we might have missed.”

“We could always leave the Ti’hat!” one of the men shouted. “The Borg would kill themselves rather than to have to fight her!” Torres laughed loudly, as did the rest of the group.

“No!” Oro smiled. “We need B’Elanna to kill Borg on the mainland!” Laughter consumed the group for a minute or so. Apparently, any questions about Torres’s worthiness to fight had been settled.

Finally, Oro finished with his picture of the world. If it was accurate, as Oro was no doubt pretty drunk, the world was quite unique. One large continent almost covered the entire planet, but for the ocean. The ocean itself was small by Earth standards, but it was, by far, the largest body of water on this planet. The ocean stretched across the center of the map, dividing the continent into northern and southern sections. A strip of land prevented the ocean from circling the entire globe, keeping the continent in one piece.

“Here, for the benefit of our alien friends, is Praeter.” Oro drew a large island near the North Shore of the ocean. “Here, is the city of Aoex.” Oro pointed to a dot he had made to the north of the island, on the continent. “It is a small city, but it has a lot of equipment and fliers stationed there that we could use. The Aoex resistance group has been working hard to retake the city, but it seemed to be a real attraction to the Borg. It is said that there were thousands of them there, but the resistance has reduced that number dramatically. Tomorrow, we will fill the three hovercraft we took from the city with people and equipment, and move across the ocean to the mainland. The following dawn, we will join with two other resistance groups and take Aoex.

“After we rest and regroup, we will piece together as many fliers as we can. Then we will move on to Topachan.” Oro drew another dot, a bit farther to the north from Aoex. “There we will be joined by the Topachan, Mali’chor, and Xenin resistance cells. Then, we will retake our capitol. Bint’Ari will be ours once more!”

A murmured cheer went through the crowd as it broke up. Torres and Tuvok walked back to the shuttle.

“What are their chances of successfully retaking the capitol?” Tuvok asked Torres.

“Well, normally I would say none at all,” replied Torres. “They aren’t very well organized, and they are fighting the Borg. But they are having incredible success. They are all strong enough and brave enough to stand up to a drone. And, as long as they aren’t assimilating anyone, they should do well. They are all also very angry. I’d say their chances are very good.”

“Emotion is a very unpredictable variable. Failure may be the result of such anger.”

“No Tuvok,” corrected Torres. “Anger is the thing that is going to give these people back their world.” She turned and walked into the shuttle.

Tuvok soon followed, thinking to himself how ridiculous people are when they allow their emotions become their saviors.”

—

“Come in,” called Janeway, in response to the chime at the ready room door. The doors slid open, revealing Ensign Nikolayevich to the Captain.

“Ah, Natasha, have a seat,” motioning the young Ensign to the nearest chair. Natasha sat down. Janeway put down the report she was going over, and waited for Natasha to begin.

“Well, Captain, first I should tell you that there is no way we could possibly install one of those mono-filament cannons on Voyager. The power sources are totally incompatible, and to install it, even one of the mini-cannons, would require Voyager to put into spacedock and have a complete hull-re-design.”

“That’s a shame,” said Janeway. “But, not entirely unexpected.”

“I did get a lot of data on the weapon, though. Maybe when we get back, Starfleet can develop it. We might just return home with the very answer that Starfleet has been looking for years. The answer to the Borg threat.”

“Excellent, but a fairly distant goal, don’t you think? What about the fleet. Can those mini-cannons duplicate what that moon-based cannon did to that cube?”

“Definitely,” replied Natasha. She rose, and pointed out the window, at the closest of the two mother ships that were already in orbit with Voyager. “See that nose-like part of the ship? They put one of the full-sized cannons in there. If the mini-cannon’s fail, they have a back-up.”

“That’s if the Borg doesn’t destroy all of the mother ships.”

“Its possible, but not likely. Those ships have the shielding capabilities that Starfleet had some fifty years ago. While admittedly, the Borg could blow through those shields in no time, I think they will be too busy with the fighters. It is hard to focus an attack when you have five thousand smaller ships attacking you.”

“Agreed,” replied Janeway. “What about speed? What are those ships capable of?”

“My best guess is Warp four-point-five. They are using similar technology to ours, but their power is weird. They don’t use antimatter reactions as a power source, because they use all the antimatter they produce in their weapons. What they use is a sort of quasi-nuclear source that I can’t tell much about, at least, until I study these readings a bit longer.”

“Excellent Ensign. Tell me, what are the workers like? I am quite curious after talking with the Queen.”

“Night and Day Captain,” replied Nikolayevich with a smile. “Actually, at first, they thought I was a Queen.”

“No! What did you tell them that made them think that?”

“Nothing! Let me tell you, it took a bit of convincing before they weren’t scared of me. You see, they thought that since I was so tall, well, tall compared to them,”

“That you were a Queen,” finished Janeway.

“Exactly. Aside from that, they were more humble than the Queen, and they had a different way of talking. While the Queen thought everything she said was the utmost of importance, the Technician I talked to acted as if nothing she had to say was important at all. It was like she didn’t care.”

“Fascinating,” said Janeway. “It’s a shame we can’t spend more time here. This is truly a unique culture. How long until we can move on, and begin searching for Torres and Tuvok?”

“A day at best,” replied Nikolayevich. “It takes several hours to launch one of those ships, and they like to do them one at a time. Gives the fighters time to load onto the ship that just went into orbit. The Commander of the fleet will contact you when they are all loaded and ready to go.”

“I’ll tell you one thing, Ensign, it does give me a real feeling of power to have this fleet along for the trip. Maybe I should give myself a field promotion to Commodore, make the feeling complete.”

“I don’t think there is anyone that could stop you, Captain,” replied Natasha, with a smile. Janeway just laughed.

Star Trek, Voyager, and related properties are © Paramount Studio, and the author makes no claim towards them.

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