DISCLAIMER: It's Paramount's galaxy.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: C/7. AU where Voyager is destroyed when unable to eject its warp core during the episode "Day of Honor" and the crew find themselves left in a fleet of escape pods.

I've decided to try something different for me and write the five AUs from "Possibilities" simultaneously. I'll post the first chapter "teaser" for each over the next few days and then go from there (expanded from what was in the original). Reviews are always welcome.

#

CLOSE QUARTERS

Stardate 51026.5

"All systems are ready," I say.

Lieutenant Torres looks at the small group in Engineering preparing for the test. I'm beside Lieutenant Paris at the primary warp core console while Ensign Vorik is at the port secondary station. I'm surprised others in Engineering aren't paying closer attention. "We're only going to take a peek," Torres says. "We open a conduit, get as much sensor data as we can, then close it up. I want to take this one step at a time."

Lieutenant Torres seems agitated, and I suspect part of the reason is my presence. I have tried to comply with her every order, no matter how illogical or ill informed. The main deflector has been reconfigured and we're ready. Everything appears fine for the test, such as it is.

The Vulcan Engineering officer Vorik looks up from his station. "I've set up a temporary tachyon matrix within the main deflector. It's online."

Lieutenant Torres touches her comm badge. "Engineering to the bridge. We're ready to start, Captain."

"Go ahead. We'll monitor your progress from here."

Torres starts pacing about the warp core. "We'll need to be at warp speed to create a large enough subspace field. I'd like to reroute helm control to Engineering."

"Agreed. Janeway out."

Lieutenant Torres turns to Lieutenant Paris. "Take us past…"

"Past warp two," Paris interrupts. "I know." He appears irritated and moves off to the starboard secondary station. Undoubtedly the result of yet another complex social structure that is unfamiliar to me. We… I am finding it a difficult challenge to integrate into this group. Helm is now routed through the starboard secondary station, and soon enough the core engages and we are at warp. Paris looks up from his station. "We're at warp two point three."

"All right. Vorik, start emitting the tachyons," Torres says. Strictly speaking, it would have made more sense to put me in control of the tachyons. These people have no idea of what they are doing. Instead, Lieutenant Torres has put me in charge of monitoring the transwarp frequencies.

"Energizing the matrix," Vorik replies.

"There's no indication of a subspace field. I recommend switching to a higher energy band," I say. Vorik complies.

"That did something," Paris says from the helm.

"The subspace field is forming," I confirm.

There's a problem and I see it immediately. Alarms sound and the transwarp frequencies become unstable. Torres moves over next to me and takes over the console. "Tachyon particles are leaking into the propulsion system," she says with alarm.

"Shut down the deflector," Paris remarks.

"Done," Vorik replies. "But the leak is continuing."

There's a discharge from the starboard station, undoubtedly due to a power surge from the quantum matrix. No one is hurt, but if the tachyon problem persists, it could jeopardize the core.

"Janeway to Engineering."

"The tachyons are flooding the warp core, Captain," Torres replies. She is trying desperately to isolate the cause and I'm trying to help as best I can at the same console.

"If you can't stabilize the core immediately, evacuate Engineering."

"Aye, Captain. I'll get back to you," Torres says back.

"I've cut all power relays, but the tachyon levels are still rising." This is from Vorik.

"All right, everybody out! Now!" Torres shouts. I'm still working at the console. The problem might involve a feedback loop in the dilithium chamber. She turns to me and adds, "That means you as well."

"I could be of help," I protest.

"That's an order."

Not a wise choice in my estimation, but it is pointless to protest. Lieutenant Torres would not likely accept my advice anyway and it would waste time. It is clear she didn't want me in Engineering in the first place. Only Captain Janeway and Lieutenant Paris seem comfortable around me. Perhaps others. Commander Chakotay was amenable to my request for a duty assignment in the first place. Torres and Paris stay in Engineering, but only for a short time. When they enter the corridor and the doors slide shut behind them, Torres says "Computer, eject the warp core."

We hear the sound of air rushing out of Engineering, but nothing else happens.

"Sequence malfunction. Unable to eject warp core."

I sense those around me tense. The vacuum now inside Engineering might buy us some time, but won't stop the inevitable with the core still connected to ship's systems.

"How long to breach?" Torres asks the computer. The computer, however, doesn't reply. Lieutenant Torres touches her comm badge. "Torres to Janeway. We're unable to eject the core. Breach is eminent, I estimate less than five minutes. We have to abandon ship."

Immediately the alarms sound throughout the ship. Those in the corridor move off towards the outer hull and the escape pods located there. I stand for a moment unsure exactly where to go. I've read the appropriate Star Fleet manuals, but have not been properly drilled in the procedure as required by the regulations. I have no assigned escape pod. No matter. There are more than enough escape pods on this level according to the schematics, and so I move off to a section I know will have ample space. It's possible the core is going to breach at any moment.

I choose an empty pod, but don't close the door expecting others might need it as well. No one else enters for a full minute. I hear other pods sealing and detaching from the hull. I'm about to do the same, when I hear someone out in the corridor. Whoever it is steps up to the entry to my pod and turns to look back. I hear the chirp of his comm badge.

"We're all clear here Captain. Time to go."

I know who it is even before he ducks his head and steps into the pod. Why did it have to be him? Earlier, Lieutenant Torres had asked me if I regretted my actions as a Borg. If I had any remorse for assimilating the Caatati and destroying the lives of billions. I said no. Of course I said no, for I have no reference for which to compare. Remorse, joy, compassion, hatred, love. These are emotions for which I have no baseline. But as I look at him, I know that's not entirely true. Some of his memories are still with me although I've tried to suppress them. And some of mine as well I thought long forgotten… The pod itself is designed for up to six people, and so he doesn't notice me. The door slides shut and a moment later the two of us are ejected into space. Thrusters immediately engage and are on full to get as much space between us and Voyager before the core breaches.

He notices I'm in there with him after the explosion and moments before the shock wave hits. Is it surprise I detect in his expression, or suspicion? I cannot say. "Hang on," he says, and we both brace for the impact of the shock wave. After that, the escape pod with us inside is tossing about like a mote of dust caught in a maelstrom.

I awake and he is leaning over me. My head is throbbing and there is a sharp pain in my side. He's holding what appears to be a medical tricorder and I hear the scan stop.

"How are you feeling?" he asks. His tone strikes me as odd, or at least different. In the short time I've been on Voyager, no one has spoken to me in such a manner before. It takes me a moment to register what the inflection in his voice implies. He is concerned for my well-being.

"I am damaged," I respond.

He closes the tricorder and puts it aside. "I've done what I can to stop the flow of blood," he says. "The nanoprobes in your bloodstream appear to be making the remaining repairs on their own. I think you're going to be okay."

I glance down at my side and notice my silver biosuit is torn and a red-stained bandage is covering a portion of my abdomen just above my right hip. The floor is slick and stained with blood.

"When the shock wave hit, we were tossed about pretty hard," he says as a way of explanation. "You hit your head and lost consciousness, and your side was impaled by a plasma inducer that came out of its mount."

I see the instrument he was referring to set on the console behind him, still glistening red with my blood. Beside it are bandages he must have used as well. The panel above the console appears powered down. In fact, the entire escape pod appears to be in a low power mode.

"What is our status?" I ask.

He stands and looks about. "I'm rebooting the systems and trying to salvage what I can. We currently have no sensors, communications, or thrusters and limited life support."

"What of the others?"

He looks at me curiously. I realize that I had spoken with some concern in my voice, very similar to his tone from earlier. I do feel concern about the well-being of the rest of Voyager's crew. He sees that too. "We've had no contact with any of the other escape pods." He nods towards the pod's single porthole. "Visually, I can't see anything save for some debris from Voyager and the warp core explosion, but I've only just glanced about. A thorough visual search might turn something up."

He, of course, has not performed the search because he's been tending to me. I shift myself to sit up. It is made easier by the fact that the artificial gravity in the escape pod appears to be about half of standard. He reaches out and helps me. "I can assist in trying to get sensors and communications back online," I say. I want to be helpful.

I think he's about to protest, but nods and helps me position myself in front of the escape pod's controls. He holds me carefully and his hand lingers to ensure I'm steady. The reboot sequence is nearly complete.

"What happened back there, in Engineering?" he asks as he moves to the porthole. He's going to conduct the visual scan of the area as he just suggested. I can see a bit of debris tumbling nearby but nothing else from my vantage point.

"Tachyons flooded the warp core and induced a feedback loop in the dilithium chamber," I state.

"Who was controlling the deflector and the tachyon burst?"

"Ensign Vorik."

"Have the Borg ever encountered such a malfunction in their transwarp cores before?"

"No," I reply. He is suspicious and it is clear he believes I had something to do with the accident. I can't see his face for he is looking out the porthole, but I can hear it in his voice. "You believe I had something to do with the malfunction."

He turns to look me in the eye. "I don't deny the thought crossed my mind."

"You don't trust me," I reply. I know it's true. He hasn't said it in so many words, and he has been nothing but professional this past week. My first week as a liberated drone. But… I have heard his thoughts… and he has heard mine. Many of the Voyager crew see me as a threat, and I suspect he does as well.

"You've made it clear your desire to return to the Collective," he responds. "You attempted to contact the Borg at your first opportunity and told the Captain you would one day betray us. No. I don't trust you."

"Commander. I am unaccustomed to deception. Among the Borg it was impossible. There were no lies, no secrets. And I assure you I had nothing to do with the accident in Engineering."

His stare makes me uncomfortable, but outwardly I remain unfazed. I can almost imagine what he is thinking, and I suspect he can imagine my own thoughts. Memories of his play through my head unbidden. Memories from the link. Is it the same for him? "I believe you," he finally says. He seems relieved. I know he is a man of integrity and I believe he is also sincere. He returns to the porthole.

What do I say now? "Can you see any other escape pods?" I finally ask.

He shakes his head. "Not yet. We're slowly rotating, so I'll keep looking. I think we're going to have to wait for you to get sensors or communications back online."

"I'll do my best," I reply, and with a start I realize, I truly want to. It is as if a switch has been turned in my head. The Borg, the ideal of perfection, the desire to return to the Collective. These thoughts are now compartmentalized in a far corner of my mind and have been replaced by a different imperative. I must prove myself to these people. Help them recover from this disaster.

I must prove myself… to him.