Come Together

By Jason Donner

Chapter One – The Bigger Fish

"What is our location?"

Thousands of minds poured over assimilated star maps, information, and analysis done by those that now served the greater whole. The Borg Cube had suddenly, and with no fanfare whatsoever, found itself cut off from the calming orderly whispers of collective and in an unknown section of space. The Borg were not known for expressing irritation, but it flashed through the shared hive-mind of the gargantuan cube despite itself.

The encapsulated minds and reached a consensus given the information they had. The reports were broadcast to all of them in an order that bordered on the divine.

"Wormhole undetected. No spatial anomalies present. No abnormal sensor readings."

The collective poured through billions of options, some only minutely different from others, in the space of five minutes and twenty-three seconds. With no contact with the main Collective and the greater resources It offered, there was no other option.

"We require an independent mind."

A Borg drone designated as Thirteen of Thirteen of Unimatrix A Section 443-B-3321 was selected mere nanoseconds later. The appropriate programs and subroutines danced across the Borg circuits and molecule-sized chips that nanites had long ago assembled from her own body material. When she awoke, she was not a mindless automaton, but a single mind in control of the entire cube and all the soulless ones aboard.

Her first thought was the first thought of all those who had undergone the transformation before her. "I am Borg. I am unique."

The humans called her a Queen, but the label was insulting and so entirely organic. A queen merely commanded and in her current state she didn't command. She simply was. She was the cube, she was the four thousand three hundred and two drones aboard. She was sensors, engines, and weapons. It was as close to a Borg spiritual experience as they were capable.

A Queen? If those small organic minds only knew. She could use the power of the cube to obliterate an entire system as easily as someone else might move a finger. She was not a "Queen," she was a focus: a white hot point of concentration for thousands of minds, contained in her own brain was an ancient computer program incapable of being killed, incapable of being damaged. She was as close to complete and total perfection the collective had achieved.

The former Thirteen of Thirteen stepped out of the alcove she had been regenerating in and stretched her arms into the air, the station behind her going dark as she did so to conserve resources. Thirteen of Thirteen was one of the few drones aboard the cube who still had both of her arms intact and lacked the prominent implants on her head and face – one of the primary reasons the individual was selected for the task at hand. Line 3282739838728 of The Program stated that non-assimilated beings dealt with an intact drone free of facial implants better than one that had them. She would be efficient to prepare for her new role.

The line after that stated that humanoids responded more favorably to a female than a male. Even the Borg did not know why. It was irrelevant as was the humanoid notice of her sexuality which often proved to be an effective diversion.

The Queen arched her back and found, with no small measure of irritation, that her head was still firmly attached to the rest of her. This was not unexpected when the Queen awoke in a new body, but it still made her feel trapped inside a cage of flesh, a sort of claustrophobia that another biologic would never understand. If there was no dire emergency, she would have her head removed as soon as possible.

Before she brought her hands down, she already knew what had transpired… what she owed her new existence to. Borg Cube 2392-1832-137333 had been observing Species 628339, an unremarkable race known as Termians. Their bodies small, frail, and unimpressive, the collective had decided that they were not even worthy of biological assimilation and chose to wait and see if the primitive beings invented any technology that might be of use to The Collective. In the last seventy-four years since the hive discovered them, the only thing the Termians had invented of note was a moveable type printing press, something that did not interest the Borg.

However the humans, as the Borg had learned, went from a press to warp drive in the space of a few centuries. The Borg are as patient as they are powerful and they thought nothing of waiting to see what potential these Termians would reach. If they reached a certain level, the Borg would sweep in as they always did.

It is inevitable. We are Borg.

However…

The Termians were gone. Correction: The Termians were not gone, it was the Borg who were displaced. Through a thousand eyes and a million sensors, the Queen confirmed what the small collective aboard the ship had determined. They were not where they were supposed to be. One second they were, and the next they were not.

"How did this happen?" she asked idly, her fingers erotically tracing the contour's of drone's face as she slinked by him.

"Insufficient information."

The vocal communication was not necessary, but it was another line in the program that made interaction with biologics easier for them. "Are we within the confines of our galaxy?"

"Negative. Stars patterns do not match those of the known galaxy."

This was news she expected, but did not relish hearing as she walked down the narrow hot and humid corridor fogged with air-borne antibiotics to keep the organic bodies from rejecting the implants. A drone obediently stepped out of the Queen's way as she glided into the main chamber. The memories of her host body, now greedily held inside the metal jaws of the Collective, knew him as an Ensign aboard the starship Kuyshu. Now they were both Borg. An improvement for the both of them.

"Further information attained. Matter structure quantum vibrations of surrounding gas and matter do not match those of Borg Cube 2392-1832-137333. Speculation: The Borg have been removed from native universe."

Now that was unexpected. The Queen observed in her mind the findings of her precious drones. Thousands of minds working together in perfect unity and efficiency doing the work and conjecture it would take an entire crew of organics hours to do. The Queen felt pride, an emotion that swept through the ship like a gentle warm breeze. The drones felt it as well as they felt everything the Queen did. If they had been individuals, it would have been good for their morale.

Morale, however, was irrelevant.

The Queen issued a mental command and, like a million invisible tendrils, the sensors of the Borg Cube fondled the new universe they had found themselves in searching for anything that might give them a clue as to where they are and what they are doing there.

"Vessels detected."

The Queen saw them. One of the ships was only slightly smaller than the Borg Cube and the other… was impossibly large. The collective had never encountered anything larger with the exception of an occasional space station and the space probe V'Ger, but never a fully mobile starship.

Any other crew would have expressed awe and intimidation. The Cube simply issued the customary challenge.

"We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ships. We will add your biological and technological-"

They stopped.

"Delivery Failure. Vessels do not possess known communication technology."

Delving her consciousness into the cube's sensors, the Queen caressed the two ships with invisible fingers and finally felt the awe that had been denied her subjects. Never before had The Collective experienced technology so alien and the beings aboard…

What?

She had to run the sweep again just to be sure.

Humans.

The Queen's lips drew back, showing her teeth in what almost looked like a growl. Humans had thwarted the collective's rightful attempts to assimilate them and improve their lives by giving them the perfection that they offered and now they were here in this unknown place a universe away. Her quiet rage rippled through the shared minds of the hive. Her wishes were clear. The vessels were a mystery… the easiest way of solving that mystery would be assimilation.

Her drones answered in unison.

"We are Borg."

The Cube began to move.

--

The young officer drafted on Mallastair swallowed hard upon recognizing the heavy thuds of the boots as they came down the corridor and the repetitive hiss of the breather like a serpent. A chill ran up his spine, sweat appeared on his brow, and he wondered idly if his anxiety was the result of his Lord's mere presence or this strange mystical power he had that he shared with those in pursuit.

Darth Vader came into his view and stood at the entrance to the bridge of the Super Star Destroyer Executor but before he strode onto the catwalk, the Sith paused and turned his massive body towards the officer. Did he sense the discomfort that he caused his underling?

It was not only that Vader sensed the discomfort, he reveled in it. Fear, he knew, was a power far beyond that of even The Force. He knew it would keep those around him loyal, after all… this was the man who brought down the entire Jedi Order, the man who walked through the scorched halls of the temple, the blood of younglings on his boots. The very molten blood of an entire planet could not destroy him. Who would dare oppose the Dark Lord of the Sith?

No one. Not even in the scant decade since he had assisted Palpetine's rise to the station of Emperor. Not this officer, not smugglers, not pirates, not even the handful of Jedi still clinging to life in the confines of space.

It was the Jedi he was concerned with now; the troublesome remains of a decaying carcass still preaching their antiquated rhetoric throughout the galaxy. It was Vader's mission to destroy them. To wipe them completely out as he had countless others whose screams no longer echoed in his mind.

The extermination of those his ship now followed was something that he now only considered routine. His master would be pleased that less of these insects infested his galaxy.

And then Darth Vader almost stumbled. A disturbance in The Force caught him by surprise and his body felt jarred inside his black support suit. It felt as though someone had ripped a hole in his chest.

To an outside observer, he merely paused. Pain was no stranger to him now. Despite the allowances of the black support suit that kept him alive, searing pain jabbed through him with every step. Even though the pain old and covered with grotesque scars, it was still all he felt. He wished it upon his enemies.

"Lord Vader?" Grand Moff Tarkin inquired with a hint of counterfeit concern.

Darth Vader glared at him with those empty black eyes. "Have you boarded them yet, Tarkin?" he said. Although formed in that way, it was not a question. Vader already knew that the answer was no, but he felt it necessary to voice his growing impatience with the situation.

"We are close, my Lord," Tarkin replied. "I don't know what they did to those engines – Wookie engineering I would imagine - but we are gaining. We shall be in weapons range shortly."

Darth Vader said nothing for a moment as he watched the stars. "And what of the second ship?" he finally said.

Tarkin scowled. "Second ship, sir?"

Just then, an indicator light began to beep on a nearby station in the pit. An officer looked up from his post. "Sir, there's another ship out there approaching fast."

"Jedi insurgents?" Tarkin asked pointedly.

"No sir, I…," He looked at his readings again. "The configuration does not match- It appeared out of nowhere."

Vader could feel the dark side of The Force clawing at him as though it was an attention starved feline. Something about this ship was different and dangerous. It didn't belong here. He could sense… one. One person aboard. Only one mind on a ship that large? The Executor dwarfed the intruder, but for a ship that size to be captained by a loner was unheard of.

The mind was powerful, though. Vader could feel… her.

He could see the ship now and it was unlike anything even Darth Vader had seen before. A dark gray cube, it was adorned with naked pipes and inner workings with no regard for style or beauty. The cube was a behemoth.

And yet… it was not the cube that represented the most danger. It was something else.

"Warn them away," Tarkin ordered to the officers in the pit.

"Trying sir, but they are ignoring us. I'm not sure that they are receiving-"

And they watched the cube glide noiselessly past them and begin firing on the Jedi ship.

"They are attacking the Jedi!" Tarkin exclaimed with a thin smile. "They are on our side."

"Overconfidence," Vader spat. "Something is very wrong here."

"What shall we do?"

Vader hissed rhythmically. "Let us see what happens," was all he said.

--

On board the blockade runner, Jedi Knight Carv Dano was meditating in his cabin when his fellow Jedi, Bab Bonnie entered unannounced. The runner had only a skeleton crew since they had dropped off most of their human cargo on Alderaan. At least the youngling exiles – the ones who would have began training had it not been for the purging of the temple – would be safe there.

"Another ship," Bab said, "approaching fast."

"Imperial?" Carv asked unmatched tranquility. He had not moved from his meditations since the destroyer began chasing them. Bab knew that her associate was preparing for a very hard battle – possibly a last stand.

"They don't know," she replied, "I sense that…"

"I have sensed it as well," he said finally opening his aqua eyes. The gill slits in his neck fluttered as he ended his meditations. He seemed to float to both of his webbed feet. "One mind is in control of that ship."

"It's odd," Bab said, "I sense… as if it has our best interests in mind."

"The best interests of some are not those of others," Carv told her cautiously. "It was the best interests of the Emperor that led us to this fate." He stopped. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Bab nodded. "Something is very very wrong."

The runner was suddenly rocked by an explosion. Bab stumbled, but Carv remained solidly in one place as the deck under them heaved. "Those," Carv continued, "do not feel like good intentions." He removed his lightsaber from his clip. "We must prepare."

Bab blinked, "Are we going to be boarded?"

Between the words "be" and "boarded," both Jedi became aware of a strange high pitched noise filling the room. Two beings appeared in a swirl of green light, materializing as if they were ghosts. Both of them where a pale sickly white covered with a monstrous number of implants… as though a man and a droid were smashed into one singular grotesque being. The Jedi could sense dead souls rotting inside of them and a single unrelenting controlling mind.

"Prepare for assimilation," said the taller of the two, a humanoid with a ridged forehead and a blinking implant covering his left eye. He raised an arm to them… an arm with some long device on it used, the Jedi guessed, for an unpleasant purpose. The thing approached them. "Resistance is futile."

It was then that the drone noticed that his modified arm was missing. Rather, it was not missing, it just wasn't where it was supposed to be… namely, attached to his elbow. The drone looked down at the smoldering implant on the ground. One of the combatants, a humanoid of a species the collective was not familiar with, had sliced it off with some sort of energy weapon that was also alien to the collective.

"Humaniod species unknown. Weapon unknown. We will assimilate humanoid and weaponry."

The monsters continued to advance until Carv saw no choice and sliced both drone's heads from their bodies. The invaders fell to the floor, their bodies sparking and writhing.

"Where did they come from? Where they cloaked? What are they? Techno-Guild?" Bab asked, prodding one of the beings with her foot.

Carv kept his saber at the ready, prompting Bab to do the same. "I do not know," he admitted. "No. Not Imperial. Something… different. Come, we are needed."

Bab and Carv ran to the bridge with superhuman speed creating a vortex of swirling air around the both of them catching loose paper in the vortex and depositing it down the stark white corridor. It was a speed that only a trained Jedi could achieve through years of intense training. Now, it was second nature to them – a skill that had helped both of them survive when the inexperienced had not.

They reached the bridge entry only to find it sealed by an emergency bulkhead. Bab and Carv could feel the screams from inside the Runner's control room, but could not hear them through the heavy steel door. Bab wasted no time. The rotting souls of the technological monstrosities were also on the other side of the massive door. Quickly, she activated her lightsaber and jammed it into the locking mechanism.

The steel twisted and grew white with heat as Bab cut into it with the blade. She felt pressure give way and knew that she had cut through the lock. Withdrawing her blade, she pressed a button commanding the door to open.

What they saw caught the Jedi off guard. There were a dozen of the mechanical invaders on the bridge. They seemed to be studying the controls and panels. One was interfacing with the ship's computer via strange tubular devices on top of his hand. Readouts that had displayed the Galactic Basic language were flickering to a green writing that the Jedi were unfamiliar with.

A moan caught there attention. Captain Bedsil was in the clutches of one of the invaders, the tubules were buried in his neck. Bab leaped foreword and with Jedi precision, sliced the tubules and kicked the invader away.

Bab picked the captain up, "Come captain," she said, "I think we'd better get you out of here."

"One of them…," he moaned.

"Sir?"

Bedsil looked at the Jedi, his face was as white as death and black filled his veins. "Help," he choked out.

Carv was now between Bab and the mechanical men. He waved his lightsaber, slicing through a chest of one of the manacing creatures.

"We have to go," Carv cautioned his associate.

"The captain has been…," Bab couldn't think of a better word, "infected by them. I sense… I don't know what I'm sensing."

"Grab him and let's go," Carv warned, "We have to get off of this ship."

Carv brought down his lightsaber on the next advancing cyborg. The blade careened harmlessly off of a green forcefield almost causing Carv to loose his balance. He looked quizzically at his saber as if to wonder if something was suddenly wrong with it. He looked at the creature then back at Bab. "We need to go now."

Bab hauled the captain to his feet, "There's an Imperial Star Destroyer out there!"

Carv almost laughed, "I'll take my chances with them!"

With the power of the force, Carv broke a piece of piping from the wall and, with an invisible hand, slammed it into the cyborg that had deflected his lightsaber. With a spark, the drone fell backwards and died.

"I am Jedi Master Carv Dano," he said taking a wild stab at diplomacy. "Identify yourself."

"We are the Borg." The remaining cyborgs answered in unison. They were slowly advancing on him. Carv felt his scales stand on end from the grisly sight. "We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."

Carv threw the lead Drone backwards by only a wave of his hand.

"You are obviously powerful, but you are no match for The Force."

"The Force is irrelevant," the Borg replied. "You will be assimilated."

And it was then that the chill in his cartilage amplified for it was the force screaming at him and for the first time, Carv believed the Borg threat that the resistance of two Jedi was indeed futile. He backed out the door and with the Force power inside of him, commanded the door to close and lock.

Bab was waiting outside with the captain. "What did you find out?" she asked.

"Let's go," Carv said without emotion. He led his Jedi friend to the nearby escape pods that would have normally been used for bridge personnel. Carv activated the panel and the doors slid open waiting for their new occupants. Carv pointed to the captain, "Leave him."

"We can't leave him, he needs our help!" Bab protested.

"This man is already dead," Carv replied. "He is becoming as they are. We have to leave him or he will surly infect us as well."

Bab looked at the captain who had fallen into unconsciousness and put him down on the ground. "Sorry sir," she said softly.

An implant erupted from his face with the smallest trickle of blood. Bab turned away.

Carv had already boarded the pod as Bab joined him. "It was the right thing to do," he said.

Bab nodded, "I do not dispute that," she said, "I have just seen too much death in one lifetime."

Carv closed the hatch. He could see the Borg opening the bridge emergency door through the glass of the pod. No matter, soon they would be in space, safe from the Borg – though they would be sitting wamprats for the Empire.

His webbed hand manipulated the pod controls and the panel displayed a Basic countdown to launch. He flashed a smile to his friend which was odd as it wasn't something his species was known for doing.

The countdown continued. 5… 4… 3…

Darkness.

"What in blazes?" Carv blurted out. "The pods have independent systems, there's no way they could have blocked the-"

"We are the Borg. You will not escape. Resistance i-"

Bab slammed her fist into the intercom. "It appears they also infect machinery with their power. What now?" she asked.

Carv wanted to tell her all would be well. He wanted to tell her that he had a plan, but lying was not the Jedi way. Instead, without a word, he took the Jedi meditation stance with his legs folded and his hands on his knees and closed his eyes. Bab sat next to him, doing her best to ignore the thumping on the pod door. She closed her eyes and slowed her heartbeat.

"It was fun," Bab said as the hatch was breached.

Carv nodded and barely felt the piercing of his neck by a tube delivering microscopic poison into his body. He only wavered when he felt a cold female presence with a single message for just for him…

"Welcome home."

--

Vader felt the Jedi die… and yet they did not die. They became something else. Vader had long since considered his own soul too dark to consider interest in a curiosity, but this was different. The invader was still there – still in her cube which hung quietly ahead of the now stopped blockade runner. 'Who are you?' thought Vader.

"Lord Vader," one of the officers in the pit called out, "We're getting a signal."

Vader hissed. "Put them through, lieutenant," he said with a mild humor in his voice. At last, he would see the mastermind.

The hologram quickly spasmed into existence forming the green and black low-resolution hologram of a woman. Vader stood in front of it, his hands on his belt.

"I am Darth Vader," he said with a slight bow. The Sith chose the road of hospitality for it appeared that this newcomer could become a powerful ally.

"We are Borg," the Queen answered. She looked at Vader with mused interest, his black life support suit blinking and hissing, his legs and one of his arms not fully biological. She smiled at that. "We wish to improve ourselves."

Vader hissed. "It seems I owe you a debt of gratitude, Borg" he said, "You have rid me of my enemies."

"It is I who owe you a debt, Lord Vader," the Queen replied, "Never before have the Borg encountered Midi-chlorians. It will make us more powerful, unstoppable. Soon, all will be Borg."

Vader regarded the woman. "Possession of a microscopic life form will not make you powerful. You may possess all the Midi-chlorians you can, but it will be insignificant to the power of The Dark Side."

"Religion is irrelevant," she said with a smile. "Join us, Darth Vader. Become one with the Borg."

Inside his suit, Vader managed a smile that would be known to none but himself. She was inviting him instead of mounting an all out attack. This Borg woman was not about to risk taking on a Super Star Destroyer; a battle she would likely loose.

"Withdraw," Vader said, "or be destroyed."

The Queen's smile faded. "We will meet again…" The hologram flickered out of existence, but her final word was delivered with chilling precision. "…soon."

Vader turned to his gunners. "I want those ships blasted into dust," he commanded.

Instantly, the mighty blasters of the Executor lit up the blackness of space, unleashing an unceasing barrage on the cube and the Blockade Runner. The Cube took a few damaging shots before its shields adjusted but the Runner, still only partially assimilated was punished as entire sections were blown away. The Cube grabbed the ailing ship with a tractor beam and warped away from the attack.

"Follow them!" Vader commanded.

Tarkin stepped in behind him. "Helm, enter a pursuit course."

"I cannot," the helm replied.

Vader glared at the man who seemed to shrink in his shadow. "I…" the man swallowed. "They didn't enter hyperspace, Lord Vader," he said bowing in respect and submission. "They're using a method of acceleration that is unknown to us. I cannot track them." He closed his eyes and waited for what was probably going to be an agonizing death.

But Darth Vader was already walking past him towards Tarkin. He slammed his finger in Tarkin's direction so violently that Tarkin felt a slight impact from the gesture even though Vader was meters away. "Alert every ship in the fleet," he commanded, "to destroy that ship on sight."

"Yes, Lord Vader," Tarkin replied.

With that, Vader marched off the bridge towards his cabin. His suit was closing in on him and he needed time in his meditation chamber. Using The Force, he had brushed the mind of the Borg Woman and what she represented was beyond the Light and Dark Side of the Force. She represented the very destruction of everything in the galaxy.

An unseen hand caressed his cheek and a soft sigh invaded his ears. For some reason, he had fascinated this Queen and Vader knew that this would not be the final time he would feel her disturbing presence.

--

Pieces of the Blockade Runner had been smashed and several drones and potential drones had been lost in the last run in with the ship the Borg had learned was designated Imperial Star Destroyer Executor. Borg hungrily devoured very byte of data in the alien computers and learned everything about the adjoining sectors and worlds. The Collective (as it was) designated several worlds that were ripe for assimilation – Coruscant being the highest prize, but that would have to wait until the Collective's numbers were increased. Instead, an Imperial Fuel Depot and Anchorage approximately fourteen light years away was selected. ETA was three hours and fifteen minutes.

In the churning recesses of warped space and time, the blockade runner was systematically and efficiently dismantled, studied, cataloged, and absorbed. Certain technologies were discarded. The Borg, for example, found hyperspace travel to be an inefficient means of faster than light transportation and opted to keep the warp and transwarp technologies they already had. Blasters too, they had found, were not superior to phaser technology and the shielding that the runner possessed was laughable.

There were, however, hidden treasures to be found on the primitive vessel. The Jedi laser weapon the Borg designated as Technology 21102, referred to by the assimilated as a lightsaber seemed to defy all the laws of physics. Light was focused through a crystal and formed into a blade that could cut almost anything. There was also a substance in the medical bay called Bacta that held great promise and a fledgling technology known as carbon freezing that might come in handy.

Still, the Collective was no closer to understanding where they were or how they got there.

The Borg were scouring the last section of the ship when a single drone, who coincidentally was only that morning a Jedi Master named Carv, noticed a storage room door that for some reason had not been opened. In a microsecond, the drone relayed this information to the Hive Mind and received his orders to open the door by any means necessary.

Borg nanoprobes which had invaded every system the ship had, for some reason, not managed to grant access to this single room. Coincidentally, the Borg Drone who was once Jedi Master Carv was still in possession of a lightsaber and used it to slice the door panel open. Free of the locking mechanism, the door slammed open revealing two entities. One was a bright gold and raised his arms in surrender. "Oh! Oh! Don't shoot!" he wailed in a mechanical voice.

The smaller of the two was a cylindrical non-humanoid robot that wheeled backwards but bared a small electrical prod in defiance as if it was daring the creatures to enter their sanctuary.

The drone regarded the two for a moment. The Queen did as well. On her cube, she gasped in delight.

"You will come with us," the drone told the two artificial, "Resistance is futile."

The golden one put his hand on his companion's dome which spun back and forth between him and his glistening partner. "Better to do as he says, R2," the golden humanoid said with a quivering voice.

R2D2 withdrew his puny weapon and rolled out into the corridor. C3P0 followed him.

As soon as they were out in the corridor, the droids were suddenly somewhere else, snared by a transporter beam and taken into the heart of the Cube. C3P0, having never encountered this technology in the few years he remembered being functional, was caught completely off guard. "Oh dear!" he shouted! "Where have we ended up!?"

It was a coincidence that the Borg drone who found them was poor Jedi Carv and a greater coincidence that the Jedi Carv had still had his lightsaber when Bab's had already been disassembled and studied. It was also a conscience that Carv shared his name with the action that he had taken with that lightsaber to uncover the droid's shielded hiding place that they had taken when the Borg first attacked.

The universe is a strange and wondrous place and it is very fond of coincidence. For example, those words uttered by C3P0 after being beamed into the Borg Cube, "Where have we ended up?" were at that very moment being uttered by a man a few dozen light years away named Felix Gaeta sitting in the C&C of a massive space vessel called Galactica whose crew were, at that moment, discovering that they were more lost than they had ever been

To be continued...