by Stoff
Disclaimer: No character in this story is owned by me. This story is written for entertainment only.
This story is part of Stoff's character tournament. For more information on how you can participate, visit the forum at under Misc/X-over/Character Tournament.
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The Borg cube sat on the edge of the Mutara Nebula. Inside the massive vessel, the Borg scanned the area. Had she still been constricted by an organic body, a smile would have crossed her lips as she saw what awaited her on the other side of the nebula.
She was aware that those organics fortunate enough to have encountered her and retained their individuality called her the Borg Queen, which revealed what small minds they possessed. This was incorrect. There was no difference between her and the rest of the collective which she had created. She was the Borg.
The discovery of a new species was the most joyous occasion which the Borg could experience. With each new race assimilated, with each new ship defeated, she grew closer to perfection. It was just such an occasion which gave the Queen satisfaction at this moment.
On the other side of the nebula, through so much kralon gas, was another vessel. A vessel much larger than she was used to encountering, with a certain organic outward appearance. Interesting. The existence of the nebula was fortuitous. Her satisfaction deepened. Lesser species would find their technology begin to malfunction within this gaseous body, but not her. After fractions of a second, she willed her ship forward, into the nebula, and towards her newest conquest.
---
Lord Breetai stood within the command bubble on the bridge of his flagship, his aide Exedore by his side. The rest of the bridge crew worked at terminals located a vast distance away, their voices amplified only when need to carry vital information to their commander. This affected the illusion that Breetai and Exedore were the only ones on the bridge.
"Report, Exedore," Breetai commanded.
Exedore examined the viewscreen of a small console on the side of the command bubble. Exedore stood a slight nine meters tall against Breetai's more considerable 13 meters, his stunted body housing the most superior intellect Breetai had ever known.
"The nebula ahead disrupts our scanners, sir," his friend reported, "but we are detecting a vessel on the other side, comparable in size to our own."
"What else?"
Any other Zentradi may have confused Breetai's tone with anger, but Exedore responded only with complete confidence. "We are unable to gather any other data at this time due to the nebula, sir."
"How else does the nebula affect our systems?" Breetai asked.
Exedore did not look at his viewscreen. The information was already in his mind. Instead he strode to take position beside his commander and gaze at the main viewer, and the orange-glowing gas of the nebula. "If we were to move inside, the gases would disable our scanners, and disrupt our viewscreen. Our weapons, also, would not be able to lock onto the enemy, and decreased accuracy would likely result."
"And yet the other vessel moves through the nebula towards us?" This had been the first information that Exedore had reported to him.
"Yes, sir. Their speed is exceptionally high. They will reach us in six minutes."
Breetai's lips curled slightly upward. From Exedore's expression, he knew that his aide was already thinking what he was. "Then our enemy has given themselves the disadvantage." With his fleet unavailable, and his entire complement of fighters and battlepods likewise disembarked, Breetai did no have the tactical flexibility that he would have preferred, but his enemy had already cemented their own destruction. If the other vessel had decided to disable their systems by entering the nebula, Breetai would simply wait here and blast them when they emerged. "Lock on to the enemy's point of emergence from the nebula. Ready all weapons."
"Yes, my lord," came the voice of a crewman.
Instinctively sensing the availability or need of new information, Exedore had moved to his console. "Interior scan of the enemy vessel," he reported. "It has a configuration which is most unique. From the size of interior passageways and apparati . . ."
Exedore rarely paused like this, and Breetai experienced a moment of anxiety wondering what had caused it. "Yes?"
"My lord, the vessel appears to be manned by micronians."
This report sent the icy spear of terror through Breetai's warrior heart. "Micronians?" he repeated. Breetai had encountered micronians but once in his life, and it had become the most deadly challenge he had ever faced. A momentary frown of confusion crossed his countenance. Now, looking back on the incident, he could not remember how it had been resolved. No matter. He pushed it from his mind. "If that is a micronian ship, then it must be destroyed."
"Yes, sir." There was nothing but agreement in Exedore's voice.
---
The Borg relished the moment before she sent her simple audio message to her victims. The moment before they fully realized what was about to happen to them. She knew that these beings saw her drones as dispassionate; barely living things. She found this to be one of the most delicious misconceptions about her. If one of these organic beings killed an insect with its thumb (or other digit), that digit would seem to the insect to be a single-minded killing machine. It did not mean that its owner was not at the moment filled with emotion, most probably revulsion.
So it was with her. The fact that organics saw the extensions of her as dispassionate simply meant that they did not comprehend the entirety of her being. She interrupted her musings, which had lasted a fraction of a millisecond, to inform this new race of their fate.
---
Unbidden, the main viewscreen in front of Breetai changed to an image of a vast metallic cavern. There were no beings in sight, yet what sounded like hundreds of voices spoke in unison.
"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile." Saying nothing more, the image blinked out.
Anger welled up within Breetai. The arrogance of these puny creatures!
"Very interesting, sir," Exedore said.
"Yes," Breetai murmured. From his previous dealings with micronians, he would have expected anything but this. The race whose culture had been so corrosive to the order of Breetai's warriors now did not even appear on screen. No trace of culture appeared in the image which Breetai had just seen.
Exedore continued his analysis. "The language in that ultimatum suggests done of the society which we have encountered before, sir. Instead, it appears our enemy has more in common. . ."
Breetai had already reached the same conclusion. "With the Invid. When do they come within weapons range?"
"In range now, sir." Exedore reported.
"Full barrage, all cannons!" Breetai ordered. Immediately, streams of energy leapt from the main guns of Breetai's battleship. As the cubical vessel was still within the gas of the nebula, the Zentradi crew were forced to rely on their own targeting skills. Two of the six main guns narrowly missed the approaching ship, but the remaining four found their mark.
The Borg cube's deflector shield flashed as it drained power from the incoming beams. Then, having penetrated the defensive, system, the beam explosively impacted the hull of the Borg ship, leaving four holes in the hull.
Exedore read the report from his viewscreen. "Four hits, sir. Significant damage, but the enemy vessel seems unaffected. Also, it's difficult to locate any of the systems of the enemy ship. They appear to be decentralized. Very clever. It is virtually impossible to disable any one system without destroying the entire ship."
"Keep firing!" Breetai commanded. If he had to destroy the entire ship, then that is what he would do.
The Borg ship continued its approach, firing no weapons. Once more the Zentradi cannons fired, this time scoring five wounds in its side. On the third barrage, however, the beams stopped short.
"My lord, our third barrage has not damaged the enemy," Exedore reported.
"What?" Breetai said in confusion.
"They appear to be protected by an energy shield which has matched our weapons' frequency precisely. None of our attacks will penetrate it, sir."
The pang of fear returned to Breetai. Once again the legendary warning against interference with micronians had proven true; this time in a completely different but no less serious way.
---
The Borg watched her newest subjects with pleasure. They were only now realizing that their attacks had become useless. Soon they would attempt to rotate the frequency of their weapons. For the time being, she directed her ship's nanobots to begin repairing the damage done by their powerful weapons.
She had already determined that this species had not developed the technology of deflector shields, which would make sampling their technology and biology a little easier. Her ship glided to a halt in front of the other vessel, and she sent forth two cutting beams: one to her adversary's engines, and the other to the weapons in the bow of the ship.
The enemy, too stunned to have ordered a retreat yet, remained motionless in space as sections of it was surgically separated and pulled toward the Borg ship's bays.
---
Breetai watched in stunned silence as two sections of his ship were cut away.
"Sir, two of our main cannons have been disabled. Engines are reduced to half speed." Exedore said.
"Bring us into the nebula, full speed!" Breetai ordered. He did not hear the acknowledgement from his crewman, but saw the image on the viewscreen move as his ship slowly accelerated past the enemy cube, and towards the great orange stain upon the stars.
"My lord, we may be able to change the frequency of our weapons, but we will need time to perform the necessary work," Exedore reported.
"Get to work on it, right away," Breetai said.
"Yes, sir," came Exedore's reply before he rushed out of the command bubble.
---
The Borg watched as her adversary attempted to escape into the nebula. As the great ship passed hers, its smaller weapons fired on her, but with no effect against her shields. As the enemy pulled away, she followed at close range, easily matching their speed. She had sampled their technology; by now the sections cut from the ship were being analyzed in the bays of her ship. Now it was time to sample something else.
---
At gun emplacement 138, the Zentradi warrior Ograk tirelessly worked the gun which his crew was charged with firing. The monstrous and sterile hulk in the targeting reticule was easy enough to hit, but close as it was, it was too far away to see any damage which his gun was doing. This was his function in battle, and he did not question it. For him, this was all there was to life.
So focused was his concentration, that he did not notice the strange being which had suddenly appeared next to him. The humanoid stood less than two meters tall, about an eighth Ograk's height, and hence went unnoticed until Ograk felt two pinpricks through his boot.
He grunted in surprise at the sudden pain, and when he saw the cause, a tiny alien nearly covered with strange cybernetic circuitry, he instinctively lashed out, sending the thing across the bay to crash into a bulkhead, where it did not move.
Ograk exchanged surprised looks with the rest of his crew, and believed for a moment that the strange encounter was over. "What was that?" Muran, his gunner's mate, asked.
"I don't know," he replied. "I . . ." He was interrupted by a sudden intense pain in the foot which had been stabbed. Looking down, he screamed with terror as he witnessed metallic devices forcing their way out of his skin and through the trousers of his battle uniform.
"Ograk!" his gun crew yelled, watching their leader slowly being consumed. The commotion attracted the attention of the other gun crews in the bay, who watched as Ograk slumped to the deck, struggling in vain with the transformation which was occurring.
"Bring a medic!" Muran yelled to someone on the edge of the crowd, but it was too late.
"Help me," Ograk quietly pleaded as the flesh of his face turned a sickly purple.
As they saw Ograk become something different, several Zentradi warriors instinctively knew what to do. Grabbing laser rifles from nearby racks, they fired, killing their comrade in arms.
---
On the bridge, Exedore had returned to the command bubble and reported successfully changing the frequency of the remaining cannons, but a new situation had since arisen.
Reading from his viewscreen, Exedore reported. "New information, sir. Several of the enemy have appeared on board our vessel."
"What? How?" Breetai exclaimed. "No craft has left their ship and entered ours."
"Unknown, my lord, but the micronians are causing considerable damage to our crew. The weaponry is of a very strange type. If allowed to touch one of our crew, that Zentradi becomes covered with cybernetic devices, and if allowed to live, begins to attack his fellow warriors."
"Indeed. The micronians have once again proven to be a formidable adversary, Exedore. I . . ."
A cry of surprise echoed from the crew pits. Reacting instantly, Breetai left the command bubble and vaulted over the balcony, landing next to his crewmember, and witnessing for himself the small cybernetic humanoid which had appeared on his bridge. Slowly, it walked towards him without any hint of a weapon. Growling, Breetai kicked the being, creating a small shower of sparks as the blow knocked it a considerable distance.
Without a moment of reprieve, a crew of pain sounded from across the crew pit. This time, the crew member had been attacked by one of the micronians. As Breetai watched, his crewman began transforming, becoming a normal-sized one of these miniature warriors. Grabbing a laser rifle, Breetai shot his crewman before it could become a danger to the rest of his crew. "Do not let them touch you," he ordered. He doubted any of them would disagree.
The Borg had located the command center of the enemy ship. This was the largest humanoid race she had ever encountered, and so, quite adept at physical combat. This job would take more drones than usual. She concentrated on the enemy command center.
The micronians' appearance on the bridge was becoming more frequent, and Breetai's crew now had to abandon their workstations to concentrate on defending themselves. A few of the crew had been surprised and overcome, but they had been quickly dealt with.
Breetai fired his rifle at a pair of micronians, but the beam stopped short of his target, encountering some type of shield which became opaque as it was struck. Snarling, Breetai kicked the aliens again, destroying them.
Glancing up to the command level, Breetai saw Exedore leave the command bubble. "Exedore!" he called in warning, but as friend leaped over the railing and landed near him, Breetai noticed the devices protruding from his old friends face.
It was then that a micronian leaped from a nearby console and landed on Breetai's head. Before the imposing lord could swat the creature away, two tubes from the creature's wrist had injected him. Breetai felt instant pain, but almost at once it subsided as his thoughts changed. His thoughts, normally very ordered, now included the thoughts of billions of others. Without concentrating, he saw what each warrior invading his former ship saw, as well as his friend Exedore; but there was no longer Breetai and Exedore. There was only the Borg.
---
The battle aboard the alien vessel quickly became sporadic resistance, which was hunted down and eliminated within an hour. The Borg smiled. A truly unique race, it was. But no longer. Now, they were Borg.
