Chapter 9
Less than half an hour later, Chakotay, Harry Kim, two other members of the security team, and two engineers beamed aboard the Enterprise. Their weapons were in their belts and hidden in their clothing. Though such arming was not usual protocol, the tingling in all their spines suggested their precautions were not unfounded. They had all seen the state of the Enterprise before being taken to the transporter room. It was banged up, missing the starboard nacelle and looked like it had gone through a hell of a battle. No, caution was not something to be skipped.
The away team from the Regulus appeared beside the Voyager crew in a shimmer of light. Commander Jule and Chakotay nodded once to each other and moved forward to find their host.
They rounded a corner of the dark and broken Enterprise and there was Picard, along with ten officers. Their weapons were drawn and ready. Before Chakotay or any of his team could even think of reaching for their own phasers, another ten of Picard's people came around from the back, effectively surrounding the away teams.
"What's going on?" demanded Chakotay.
"Sorry," said Picard, "but we can't just take your word for it." His usually deep voice was even more so with the added weight of mistrust and weariness.
'"Word for it'? What the hell do you mean?" Commander Jule said.
The sharp scowl on Picard's face suggested they wouldn't get any answers until he was satisfied. "Search them."
A burly security officer confiscated their weapons. When Chakotay and Jule's team had been deprived of their arsenal, they were marched at gunpoint. The whole way, Picard's people kept a close eye on them and their fingers on the triggers of their weapons.
The away team didn't struggle or panic, though they remained alert and ready for action. Beside Chakotay, Harry Kim's expression was like stone. He didn't like being taken prisoner, no matter what the circumstances were.
Chakotay wasn't worried much about their situation. He knew that if there was no contact between the away teams and Voyager or the Regulus, they would be beamed back. Scans had confirmed that the Enterprise had weakened shields, easy enough to disable. However, he still wanted some answers and for the moment the best way to get them was to go along with Picard.
"Why the ambush, Picard?" No response. They all just kept walking down the damaged hallways of the ship to an undisclosed section. However, it didn't take long to realize that they were not heading towards the brig. They were in the same part of the ship as sickbay. Briefly Chakotay wondered if they had an outbreak of some kind. Maybe a virus had infected the crew or parts of the crew. The Mud Hole had after all been composed of some genetic material. Maybe some of that material was parasitical?
Inside sickbay, a grim, redheaded doctor and Commander Riker were waiting for them. Picard nodded to his second in command, but gave his full attention to the red-haired woman. "Dr. Crusher, are you ready?"
"Yes, sir." Looking just as cold as the tools she was using, she strode up to the away teams, took a bit of blood from each person and set the samples in a holder for analysis. She then had them each submit to a full scan on the diagnostic beds. It was only when she looked at the results that the wrinkles around her forehead lessened and she declared to Picard, "They're who they say they are."
Immediately, the whole group relaxed. As one, the crew of the Enterprise released their breath, muscles loosening and eyes becoming less cold. The guards relaxed their stances, returned the away teams' weapons, and left sickbay without more than a wave of Picard's hand as a command.
"What happened?" Harry asked, looking around himself at the evident damage. Sickbay had been cleaned as well as possible, but the damage done to it was still obvious.
Picard sighed and leaned against one of the beds as Crusher cleaned up the equipment. "First thing," he said, holding up a hand. "Are your ships safe and are they close?"
Commander Jule and Chakotay nodded. "The Regulus and Voyager had to enter the nebula to get close enough to transport," said Jule.
"I'm afraid it is necessary for us to stay hidden and an unfortunate side effect of the nebula's radiation is that it scrambles transporter and communication signals." He glanced around at the roughed-up sickbay. "It doesn't help that my ship is in pieces either."
"What happened?"
Picard paused to gather his thoughts. He knew he must look a wreck as they let him continue at his convenience. "We were attacked by a species I've never seen before. They didn't try to communicate with us or give any warning. They just fired these pods at us."
Harry broke in, something niggling in the back of his mind. "Pods?"
Picard nodded and moved to one of the consoles. "Here," he said, "I'll show you." He pulled up an image that had been recorded from the bridge. One of the long brown pods was barreling towards the Enterprise. It was too soft-looking to be described as a normal ship or weapon.
"We used evasive maneuvers, but they kept coming after us, firing weapons we couldn't counter. One struck the starboard nacelle. It sent out some sort of energy wave that overloaded our circuitry and shut down the warp core." He brought up the schematics of his ship. The simple schematic moved to the side to allow a similar image of a pod as it headed right towards the ship. The pod struck the starboard nacelle, but did not appear to cause any damage. Jean-Luc pointed a finger accusingly at the image. "See that?"
The away teams nodded.
"It just sat there. Our main sensors were down from the attack so I sent a team to see what it was. They claimed it was a ship, but with biological components that started to grow. They also said a creature came out of the ship and attacked them. They managed to get away without injury, but we had to separate the nacelle and destroy it in order to avoid widespread contamination."
"Do you have a sample of what the ship was made of?" asked Commander Jule. He failed to notice the looks on the faces of the Voyager crew, who were already taking a guess as to who the Enterprise's assailants were.
"No." Crusher spoke from behind them and came to stand beside Picard. He didn't seem to mind the interruption. He even gave her a look with something almost intangible, almost tender in it. Chakotay wondered just what the relationship was between the captain and red-headed doctor.
"They didn't have time," Beverly Crusher continued. "The whole attack took seconds and Geordi LaForge, our chief engineer, jettisoned the affected area almost immediately after. I reviewed the scans they took of the material, though, and I don't think it would have been wise to keep any of it onboard."
"It was already sending out tendrils, in a way, assimilating the material around it," said Chakotay. It felt like his voice had echoed. The statement hung in the air with Picard and Crusher's surprise before understanding dawned on their faces.
"I remember reading some of the files Voyager brought back," said Crusher. "You think this is one of the species you encountered in the Delta Quadrant?"
"Yes, though I don't know why they would be attacking us. We struck an accord. They deemed us to not be a threat to their space."
Harry straightened, the memory of his first encounter with the species still painfully etched into his mind. It had not been pleasant. "I don't think we should jump to conclusions, especially since they did agree to a truce. Still, it does sound like Species 8472."
----------------------------
"Species 8472?" Tom was not the only one surprised by the news. He looked around at the rest of the bridge crew and saw the same shock on most of their faces. The crew who had not been on Voyager's trip through the Delta Quadrant were a bit lost, but recognized that there was something of significance going on. Some of them were thoughtful for a moment before the name registered. Tom could almost sense their closer attention pressing him as he talked to Chakotay over the radio - sound only as the radiation from the Pluto Nebula was interfering too much to get a clear visual.
"Harry took a look over their data and we're sure. It's them."
"But --"
"I know. They must have decided to break the deal. Since they didn't send any messages, we can only guess at their motives."
"Do we know if their ships are still in the vicinity?"
"Negative. Sensors went down on the Enterprise before they made it into the nebula. There hasn't been any sign of them since, but we can't rule anything out."
"I suppose it's safe to say everything that's happened out here is connected to them. Do you think they're responsible for the appearance of the Mud Hole and the death of Beta 12?"
"That's our assessment so far. Send a message to Starfleet. If things are what they seem, I don't want to go up against a whole species as aggressive and powerful as Species 8472 with just three vessels, one already heavily damaged. Brief them on what's happened so far and remind them if you have to that this species almost wiped out the Borg and could do the same to us if they choose to." Chakotay still felt wary about assuming Species 8472 were the perpetrators, but evidence was against them and if they had attacked, Starfleet needed to be warned.
"Yes, sir. Are you staying on the Enterprise?"
"I'm going to get as much information as I can from Picard while we try to get the Enterprise moving again. To be honest, I don't think it's going to happen. They're missing a nacelle, have too much damage to go to warp, and the rest of the ship is not doing much better."
On the Enterprise, Chakotay looked around at the sparking wiring and singed walls of the once pristine ship. They could make do with only one nacelle, but there was too much damage overall. The Enterprise wouldn't be able to go to warp. No matter what happened, the Enterprise would have to be led back to Earth. If they did have to enter battle, the ship would have to be evacuated.
"I think we'll need as many hands over here as Voyager and the Regulus can spare," said Chakotay.
--------------------
The reports of damage to the Enterprise were not exaggerated, thought Seven of Nine as she strode down just one of the charred and crumbling hallways. Beside Seven, Ensign Ugoli, one of the many engineers from Voyager, appeared to have the same thoughts. He grimaced at the sight of a destroyed console, just a smoking hole in the wall after its encounter with Species 8472.
"I've read the reports Voyager brought back on Species 8472, but still," he said. They turned into a small alcove where an entrance to the Jefferies tubes was already open. The door lay flat on the ground, torn from its hinges. Ugoli's voice echoed slightly through the hatch. "This is incredible."
Seven gave him a reproachful look. "You doubt another species would have the capacity to outperform a Starfleet craft such as the Enterprise?" she said as she climbed into the tubes.
To Ugoli's credit, he didn't show any sign that he was at all fazed by her question or the tone it was delivered in. "No," he climbed in after her, "I just find it amazing the kind of firepower they must have to do this amount of damage in less than five minutes to one of the best ships in all of Starfleet. Even you must know about the Enterprise's history. You have to admit, it is kind of frightening."
"The Borg do not feel fear. It is irrelevant and counterproductive."
"I see." The tone was perfectly impartial.
They came up to a clump of frayed and unresponsive wiring. Together, they sat with crossed legs to work. "However," said Seven, thinking the situation called for honesty even though it felt like a betrayal of her innermost secrets, "I am no longer Borg."
Ugoli handed her the repair kit without comment.
Seven continued despite the difficulty of the small admission. "And it is… an alarming situation."
Ugoli smiled kindly. "We'll make a human out of you yet."
Seven nodded tightly and they turned to their work. Though she made sure to keep her expression neutral, something in Seven was disquieted by Ugoli's statement.
-------------------------
Ensign Jyoti and Ensign Pax had beamed over from the Regulus and started work in the Jefferies tubes an hour ago and were already feeling the strain of their work. There was enough damage to keep them busy for weeks.
"I could use a drink," said Pax. He wiped his crinkled brow with the back of his hand. "I don't think we'll finish any time soon."
Jyoti smiled. "It'll take at least a couple more hours." Her gaze wandered over their cramped location. "Better settle in."
They worked for another half hour before they had to sit back to rest. The hatch behind them was open to let in more air and keep the claustrophobia away. The two had just taken out a ration bar and split it when voices drifted into the tube from the open hatchway. At first neither Jyoti nor Pax paid attention. However, the upset tones became more apparent as the speakers came closer. By the time the speakers' words were distinguishable, Jyoti and Pax were listening intently.
"But it's not up to us. It's up to the captain and senior staff," said a woman's voice. She was being loud, both of them too caught up in their argument to be quiet.
"Ramman seems convinced Seven of Nine can't be trusted."
"Captain Chakotay trusts her, Ellie. That's good enough for me."
"Sarah, don't you get it? Look, so far he's been a good captain and I think we can trust him, but that's not to say that she hasn't pulled a fast one on him and the rest of the crew. She's Borg."
"Right, and Borg aren't known for their subterfuge."
"No, but they've assimilated species that are. What if they decided to take a page from the Cardassians?" The one woman's voice, apparently someone named Ellie, stopped. The arguing pair was standing at a corner just a few steps from the open hatch.
"Why are you so sure she's trouble?"
"I talked to Ramman. He said..." Ellie's voice cut off.
For a moment Pax and Jyoti stared at each other, thinking maybe the open hatch had been noticed. A new pair of footsteps echoed in the corridor and passed by.
"Maybe we should talk later," said Sarah.
Jyoti and Pax stared at each other, at a loss for words. Finally, Pax spoke. "Do you think we should tell someone about this?"
-------------------------
She worked alone in the dark and confined space. Ensign Ugoli had moved on to fix the next set of damaged connections, leaving Seven alone with her thoughts and the acrid smell of burnt metal.
It reminded her of their time in the Delta quadrant. How many times had she walked the broken corridors or crawled through the Jeffery's tubes to repair something damaged in battle? It mostly smelled, looked, and sounded like Voyager, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this starship, as similar as all Starfleet ships might be, felt different than Voyager. What surprised her most was that she missed the time she'd spent on Voyager. Unbidden, Chakotay's smiling face came to her mind's eye. It was so vivid that her stomach gave a jolt and she wished he were really there. But then reason - what she assured herself was reason - reasserted itself and she returned to her tasks, trying not to think of him again.
Though she had spent a good deal of time alone and in dark rooms, something about this situation did not sit well with Seven of Nine. With dismay, she wondered if she had gotten too used to companionship, even just the simple contact of two peers working on repairs.
Ugoli had not been bad company. He had been mainly silent except for their brief and disturbing conversation. Seven wondered if she asked to work with him again tomorrow, would it be feasible or permitted? There was no reason she could see to not be granted the simple request and resolved to do just that. The idea was no sooner formed in her mind than a faint flicker of light and shadow passed the opening of the Jefferies tubes she was working in.
She looked to the entrance, expecting to see Ugoli or one of the Enterprise's crew, maybe even Chakotay. Instead, emptiness greeted her. There was no one there. She was alone. She was completely and utterly alone. Not even her thoughts could fill the void. Before she could understand why, Seven began to feel fear. Her breathing came in uneven bursts. Her muscles grew tense.
No longer comfortable working, she turned her back on the doorway to put her tools back in the kit. Seven froze in place. A shadow had fallen once again. Something was blocking the light from the open hatch. In vain, she tried to tell herself that the sound of a metronome behind her was just her imagination and not a Borg drone. What would they be doing all the way out here, she tried to reason. It did no good. A sickly green light surrounded her and she spun around, ready to fight for her life. The completely alien and far more menacing face of Species 8472 leaped at her instead.
The scream of terror escaped Seven's lips before she could stop it.
With a gasp, Seven's eyes flew open and registered the familiar sight of Voyager's cargo bay. The green light from her regeneration unit reflected off the floor, illuminating the dim corners.
Still breathing heavily, Seven stepped out of the alcove and leaned against the machinery, her hand against the cold metal, unable to warm or be warmed by the touch. She ignored the warning tones of the computer telling her the regeneration cycle was incomplete.
Her internal clock told her it was 0200 hours. With a sob, Seven leaned her forehead against her hand, taking no pleasure in the way the coolness from the alcove passed onto her aching head. Indeed, how could she have any pleasure in anything again? She was Borg, if only former. Even as a human, she felt a myriad of displeasing things as she unsuccessfully tried to hold back tears. Fear, shame at feeling weak, anger at allowing her weakness, and an odd lump in her heart were just the foremost feelings she could identify.
What was to become of her?
---------------------
The Doctor strode with his usual confidence into astrometrics that night. He was so fully expecting to see Seven of Nine at her usual station, still hard at work that he began to talk before realizing the brunette in an ensign's uniform was not Seven.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. She had turned at his entrance with surprise. "I thought you were Seven."
The woman smiled amiably, no doubt wondering how he could confuse a tall blond with her. The Doctor wondered what the woman's name was.
"That's all right. She only stopped in after her shift on the Enterprise. I think she was going to regenerate."
"Seven? Are you sure?"
Her smile grew. "Well, I'm not positive. Someone came and dropped those off," she pointed a finger at two equipment kits off to the side, "and then said they were going to regenerate." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Last time I checked, Seven of Nine was the only one who could regenerate."
"Right," said the Doctor, suddenly unable to think of anything else to say. "Well, thank you."
The woman turned back to her work. "No problem."
The doors slid open for him, but he paused. Something about this woman unnerved him, made him feel… something he couldn't identify, though he was certain that if he had a stomach it would be doing cartwheels. "What's your name by the way?"
"Ensign Nancy Clemens." The bright smile lit her face once again. "You can call me Netty if you want."
Out of things to say and quite out of nerve, the Doctor nodded and left astrometrics.
When the Doctor entered the cargo bay, Seven of Nine was already in fresh clothing, looking ready for a new day of work. Only the tiniest bit of strain, caused by lack of sleep and a growing sense of impending doom, was beyond her ability to hide. Luckily, the Doctor was too distracted by his encounter with Ensign Clemens to notice. The two had a mostly silent dinner together and went their separate ways, she to the Enterprise to continue repairs alone and he to the oblivion of Voyager's computer system.
-----------------------
Helping the Enterprise's crew finish their repairs took three days. Even that simply allowed them to limp out of the nebula and follow between Voyager and the Regulus towards friendlier space.
A more unnerving problem was the lack of response from Starfleet. A message had been sent to apprise them of the situation. Picard had even included a letter to be delivered to each of the nine crewmembers he had lost, but there had been no acknowledgement that the information had been received.
The three captains decided to make their way to the edge of the system and try to send another message from there. They were still unwilling to leave the area completely in case some new clue to explain the motivations of Species 8472 presented itself. Still, everyone feared what would happen if Species 8472 came back.
It took several hours, but the three ships finally made it to the edge of the system and sent their information. They settled in to wait, each ship keeping an eye out for potential attackers.
It happened at 0400 hours.
Seven's voice came over the comm. to the bridge. Something in her tone, noticeable only to those who had worked with her before, made Chakotay and Tom sit straighter, ready for bad news. "Captain, there is a rift opening a hundred kilometers to starboard." Alone in astrometrics, Seven forced her tired thoughts to focus on the controls. The giant screen flickered from one image to another, data scrolling down the side too fast for a normal human to read. "It's a rift to fluidic space."
"On screen," said Chakotay. The brown nebula suspended in space came into view. It indeed looked like a mini version of the Mud Hole.
"Something is coming through," Seven's voice warned.
Like torpedoes from a starship, three of Species 8472's pods exited the nebula. They headed right for the three ships. Both Voyager and the Regulus sent out hails requesting a ceasefire and a chance to negotiate. No sign was given that the hails had been heard. The pods fired on the Starfleet vessels as soon as they were within range.
The first hit took down Voyager's shields to 10 percent. Chakotay didn't voice his concern, but he knew his thoughts were shared by Tom. Voyager should have been able to handle more than that. Species 8472 had developed different weapons since their last encounter.
The Enterprise took a few hits as well. With each strike their shield strength dropped. No maneuver they performed allowed them to dodge Species 8372's ships. The flickering of the shields made it obvious they weren't going to last.
Onboard the Enterprise, chaos reigned. The hits were taking their toll not just on the systems but also on the people. Sickbay was filling up and there were more injuries being inflicted every second. The bridge was hit the worst. Rubble strewn over the deck was smoking and burnt and the few officers still on their feet could hardly input commands with all the shaking and jarring.
"Shields are down to ten percent," said Riker.
Picard nodded grimly and allowed his people to do what they could, but he knew it was going to be a losing battle. He didn't need a report to know his ship was falling apart. He looked to Deanna Troi, one of the few people he trusted with his life. Only she and Riker remained from the command team, unharmed and at their stations. The worry he saw in her eyes settled his mind. He knew what to do.
It was time to evacuate the ship. He was about to give the order when a hit from Species 8472 hit them hard. Deanna's grip slipped and she fell to the floor. Picard and Riker each gave a cry of concern, but they had no time to complete so much as a word.
A pipe from the wall burst, showering the deck with sparks, debris and steam. Had Deanna still been in her chair, she would have taken the full brunt of the explosion. As it was, bits of the wall fell on her, Picard, and Riker.
