Buffy was surprised at how easy the EVA suit was to put on; a form fitting and almost stylish undersuit followed by a close fitting oversuit that contracted to tighten against her skin but didn't restrict her movements.
Thankfully there were no bathroom adjustments to be made. The shuttle had its own small bathroom in the back, and she'd used the facilities before putting on the outfit. She didn't want to imagine what a suit designed to be worn for days would have required.
It was a long way from the space suits of her day, which made the wearer look a little like the Michelin man and created the impression that one tiny tear in the suit would send the wearer flying through the air like something from a Loony Toons cartoon.
This felt more solid somehow.
"Are you decent?" Worf asked from the front of the shuttle.
"That's a matter of opinion," Buffy said, smirking. "I think I've got the suit on."
She stepped out of the bathroom and he immediately began checking the clasps and seals on her suit. He smelled a little alien and musky, but not bad.
"Good," he grunted. "Are you ready?"
Buffy nodded. A glance outside showed that Data was still showing the Buffybot how to use her gravity boots. She was glad she wasn't going to be the one out in space; keeping her feet on the ground would slow her immensely.
As she sat in the copilot's seat, she looked at Worf. "No seat belts?"
"Seatbelts?" he asked, pushing several spots on the flat surface of the dash.
"You know…belts attached to the chairs to keep us from going through the windshield?"
"We have inertial dampeners," he said.
The door to the hatch closed shut behind her.
"If I ever get one of these, installing seatbelts is the first thing I'm going to do," Buffy said.
"According to Captain Pratt you probably would need them," Worf said. "I however am a better pilot than that."
"You do know that the actual plan it to hit things with the shuttle, don't you?"
"The shuttle has phasers," Worf said. "It will not be necessary to…run into things."
"Haven't you ever wanted to, though?" Buffy asked.
The engines hummed to life.
"This might be your chance," she continued.
He glanced at her for a moment and then allowed himself a small grin.
The Buffybot had a small radio transceiver built in; she supposed its original purpose had been so that Warren could call her back in the event of an emergency. She'd heard from Dawn one day that he'd lost track of a previous robot girlfriend. Undoubtedly he'd wanted to be able to keep track of her as well.
It was coming in handy now.
"Do you hear me?" Data's voice appeared in her head even though his mouth wasn't moving. This must have been what it was like for the others to hear Willow's voice in their heads, during the summer they'd all fought together.
Nodding, the Buffybot smiled brightly. Smiling was something boyfriends always seemed to like.
"Now try to communicate with me," Data said.
"This is neat," the Buffybot said in her head. "Can we do this all the time?"
"No," Data said. "There are rules about personal communications devices on starships. All communications go through the ship's computer."
The Buffybot allowed herself to pout a little. Having a secret language with your boyfriend was all part of the experience, at least according to a Cosmo article Dawn had read to her.
Of course, considering that her knowledge of romance consisted of articles from Teen Cosmo, and the other half consisted of undeleted x-rated "Giving wood to the slayer" games, she wasn't sure she was an expert.
Data placed a communicator on her chest, and the Buffybot forced herself not to lean into him. Data was an old fashioned android, one who liked to take things slow. At least that's what Guinan had suggested to her.
"Two to beam out," he said.
Data and the others had determined the minimum safe distance to transport; any closer would risk activating the mines.
"Try to keep communications to a minimum," Data said. "We are not certain just what the drones are able to detect."
The Buffybot smiled again and ran a finger along the side of her axe. Unlike humans she had no worry about oils or acids from her skin contaminating the blade. "I'll be quiet as a mouse."
"Engage," Data said, and the world turned into a blue haze.
A moment later they were surrounded by stars.
The mines were larger than she would have expected, given the small size of the spheres that had transported them. They were ugly dark streaks against the silver hull of the Enterprise.
"They are getting bigger," Worf said to her unasked question. "Like a cancer."
There were three mines that she could see. Two were attached to the starboard nacelle and one was connected to the pylon connecting the nacelle to the rest of the ship.
She spotted one of the borg at the edge of one mine. They couldn't attack him either way; the phasers would risk setting off the mine, and hitting him with the ship would risk whatever force allowed the ship to fly to do the same thing.
"It's time to put your helmet on," Buffy said.
"What?"
"Vent the atmosphere inside the shuttle so I can open the hatch."
"You don't have any experience or training in space combat," Worf said.
"I don't need any," Buffy said. "All I need to do is throw an axe."
Luckily she'd brought two and Spike could always replicate more.
The Borg drone worked ceaselessly at its project, comforted in the embrace of the unimind. If there was a part of it screaming deep down, that did not stop it from doing its duty. This ship would be assimilated, and all within it would be brought into the fold.
Its sensors detecting a gravimetric disturbance to its right, it turned.
A shuttle was slowly flying by, it's door curiously askew.
The drone attempted to raise its weapon, but it identified a slow moving meteoroid emerging from the darkness within the shuttle. It took it a moment to identify the object spinning through space, and it raised its phaser to shoot the offending object out of the sky.
Unfortunately Borg were built for strength, not speed. The axe plowed through its chest cavity like a knife through butter, slicing through and crushing internal organs and vital mechanisms.
Its connection to the collective was severed in the space of a moment, vital fluids jettisoning into space and instantly turning to ice. Its blood was a blue mist around it.
As it began to spin through space, a last spark of individuality emerged, and for a fraction of a moment it felt a sense of gratitude.
It was finally free.
"Excellent shot!" Worf said. He would have expected her to miss, especially at this distance.
Most earthbound users of thrown melee weapons tended to unconsciously compensate for the effects of gravity, throwing at an arc to get the weapon where it was supposed to go.
Buffy turned and grinned at him through the helmet. "Ready to go all Deathrace on the rest of them?"
Worf activated the door, which closed and he began to reinitialize life support. "One down. Four to go, and we still have to deactivate the mines."
As tiny as she was, it astonished Worf how effective she was at fighting. Some of the things she did almost seemed to defy the laws of physics. She just didn't seem to have the body mass to pull things off.
She'd have been happy in the time of Kah'Lass, one legend among many.
Reaching the seat beside him, she pointed.
"That guy's not near a nacelle," she said.
Worf initialized the ship's phaser and fired. Stronger than a phaser rifle, but weak by the standards of shipboard weaponry, the shuttle's phaser was still enough to vaporize the drone where it stood.
Buffy pouted. "You aren't getting into the spirit of this."
"We're not here to play!" Worf said gruffly.
The fact that he was indeed having fun was a secondary issue.
It was fortunate that they materialized some distance from the nacelle, as the Buffybot almost soared into space three times before they reached their destination. It was going to be even harder of she got to fight, but she was determined to remember.
When she saw the Borg near the edge of the pylon, she was tempted to run toward the Borg, but she knew better. Running involved letting both her feet leave the surface and that involved spinning out into space.
That gave her an idea.
She began shuffling forward as quickly as she could. It surprised her that space wasn't as silent as she'd been led to believe; she could hear the hum of the ship through the soles of her feet. Apparently this made her entire body vibrate, including the microphones in her ears.
Otherwise she couldn't hear anything.
The Borg didn't notice her presence until it noticed her shadow; the light of the other nacelle was behind her.
It swung at her, but it was slow; it had to be as careful of its footing as she did. She easily grabbed its arm. She was stronger than it was, although not by much. However, her frame was anchored by a metallic skeleton.
The drone's metallic parts were as strong as hers, but they were poorly anchored in flesh and bone. Its whirling blade at the end of the mechanical arm continued to spin even as she forced the buzzsaw up into its own face.
In the Buffybot's profession, spraying blood was usually a good sign. The arm and top of the head coming off was an even better one.
Phaser fire was deflected off the skin of the shuttlepod. One drone had learned from the fate of the others and was firing at them with its energy weapon.
It had already adapted to the shuttle's phasers, and it continued firing.
"Ram him!" Buffy urged.
For once, Worf decided to do what he really wanted to do. He sent the shuttle forward at a speed of over one hundred kilometers per hour.
The Borg kept his gravity boots engaged, and Worf lurched forward with the impact, smashing his cranial ridge into the transparent aluminum window.
The Borg on the other side of the window stared sightlessly at him before sliding off.
A second pass revealed that the feet were still connected to the hull, small particles trickling from them. Worf didn't envy the ensigns who were going to have to clean up after this mess; the front of the shuttlepod was likely badly dented and covered in fluids.
He rubbed his forehead for a moment, wondering when the delay in the inertial dampeners was going to be repaired.
"Seatbelts," Buffy said knowingly.
"I believe this is the last of them," Data said, although once again his mouth didn't move.
The Buffybot had worked with him on beating the last of the Borg, and the Buffybot was more than pleased.
The successful couple was one that was able to both work and play together, according to Teen Cosmo and Dawn, and what was this other than a little of both.
Slaying Borg was fun.
The Buffybot smiled brilliantly at Data, but he didn't seem to notice.
"We need to decouple the panels the mines are on," Data said in her head. He looked at her significantly. "We need to be very careful at this stage not to activate the mines or we'll risk destroying ourselves and the ship."
"Tell me what to do!" the Buffybot said. He would see how valuable she was and this was going to make being his girlfriend easy.
A few minutes later they were removing the last of the connections to the first mine. Spike had joined them for this, and the work was done in no time.
In the space of a few moments the mine was floating away from the ship. The shields were down to keep the mine from exploding inside of them and increasing the damage.
It was only then that the Buffybot noticed the blackness covering the back of her hand.
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy, Star Trek, Deathrace or Cosmo.