=/\=
Once they reached the others, First decided their Collective should relocate to the control center area. Second approved of this plan. The other three agreed as well. First declared it was desirable for them to reach a consensus whenever decisions needed to be made, although Second noted that First always seemed to get his way.
The control center area was appropriate in another way. It was near enough to where the maturation chambers were located to allow one of the drones to check on the last occupied chamber from time to time. First gave this unborn drone the designation of "Six," and the rest of them became "of Six" as a result. Usually, the task of checking on Six of Six fell to Five of Six. Periodically, Second chose to view the developing drone for himself. He determined she was a female, but she was not growing very quickly. Second thought they should wait and see how she developed. There was already so much they had to do. As long as the maturation chamber continued to function well, it was best to simply let her grow.
Once First realized this sixth drone would not be able to assist them with their tasks anytime soon, he lost interest in what was happening to her. Three and Four of Six ignored her as well. Only Second and Five of Six continued to observe her, coming to a consensus about the need to do this on their own.
First spent most of his time demanding the rest of the Collective complete whatever he assigned them to do very quickly. While he seemed to know which tasks should be done and when, First's expectations about how long each job would take were seldom met. He had many opportunities to berate Second and the other three. Privately, Second decided First enjoyed yelling at them, especially when he himself was unsure of how to do whatever project he had given the others to complete. Many times, when First was yelling at them to do something, Second had no idea how to do the task assigned. Whenever he was successful, Second tried to remember what he had done, in case he had to complete the procedure again. He no longer expected First to guide them, as he had said he would when he first organized them into their Collective.
Second accepted that they must work together, but he did not believe this was the way a Collective should operate. It was inefficient. With only five drones to do all the work, he could not see how efficient they could become. Somehow, they needed to assimilate more drones to help them.
=/\=
When Three of Six announced, "A vehicle is approaching on Vector 568-12, with one alien on board," they all went to the station First had assigned to them. First jumped to the weapons system console and ordered, "Second, on my command, activate the tractor beam." Second responded subvocally. /I am ready./
First opened a communication signal. At his nod, all the members of their Collective recited what they had been programmed to say: "We are the Borg. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile." Their voices were replicated dozens of times to make it sound as if many Borg were speaking. Even so, it did not sound the way Second expected it should from the memories he had obtained from the deceased Borg.
It made little difference. The alien in the ship responded with weapon's fire, which the Borg cube's shields neutralized. First activated the cube's weaponry. The alien ship was no match for the power of the Borg. First gave the command for the tractor beam to capture the ship, and Second drew it inside the cube. It was over quickly. Before any of them could say anything about the capture, First ordered Second and Five of Six to accompany him to the cavernous bay to extract the alien from his vessel.
The alien fought bravely against them, Second thought, but he was no match for a Borg drone - even immature ones like the three of them. First gave Five of Six the honor of using her wrist tubules to insert a supply of nanoprobes into the alien's neck. The miniature machines immediately began their work. The alien was weakened by assimilation, and the three young drones dragged him, writhing in pain, to the area where assimilations were completed.
It did not go well. The nanoprobes created metallic implants in various areas of his body, but none of them seemed to develop the way they should. Although the cortical node in the alien's brain was malformed and nonfunctional, First ordered Second and Five of Six to insert an ocular implant into the new drone's left eye cavity. At the same time, First tore off one of the being's upper limbs in order to attach a Borg mechanical arm in its place. The alien screamed throughout the procedures. After much fumbling, Second and Five of Six succeeded in positioning the optical device in its proper place, but the neurological connections necessary for it to operate never formed. None of the links critical to the formation of a drone were materializing.
Five of Six asked First to help them, he but did nothing but yell that they should complete their work. First was still holding the mechanical arm. Second wondered if he had any idea of the way the attachment procedures were to be implemented.
Helplessly, Second and Five of Six watched as bloody patches of raw flesh appeared where some metallic implants were supposed to emerge. Those that had developed began to fail, one by one. After a short period of time the alien's screams faded away. He lay strapped on the table, nothing more than a lifeless pile of flesh and metal rubble.
Second and Five of Six raised their eyes and stared at their leader. Throwing the now useless mechanical limb onto the floor, First defiantly stated, "His biological component was too inferior for assimilation. He was not fit to be a drone. I will go to his ship to see if his technology is any more useful to us than he was."
Once First had rushed out of the assimilation area, Second and Five of Six looked at each other. /What are we to do with him?/ the young girl drone asked Second. /We can't just leave him here, can we?/
Second considered her question carefully. He accessed his Borg memories but found nothing to guide them in a situation such as this. He tried to contact First subvocally, but First could not or would not respond. Finally, Second admitted, /I do not know. We must leave him here for now. When First returns from the alien ship, we will ask him where we should take the body./
Gravely, Five of Six nodded acknowledgement. They left together, stepping carefully to avoid the pool of blood from the failed assimilation, some of which continued to ooze from the open slashes in the alien's skin. The smell of death lingered in the mist behind them.
Second was glad to leave that place. He wished never to return, even though by his calculations there was a 99% probability he would be forced to do so, even if it were only to dispose of another dead body.
=/\=