Dark Destiny
Chapter One
Day Of Reckoning
Star Fleet Command
Star Date: 64299.9498
An excited ensign burst through the doors into the central command room. He was clearly out of breath, and that hampered his attempts to get anyone to take him to the Admiral. When one finally understood him, they queried why he was in such shape. Frustrated with his attempt to get to the Admiral quickly, he burst: "The BORG!"
Immediately, the entire room was quiet. Even the beeps and twitters of the computers seemed to mute in response to the words just broadcast over the entire floor. After what seemed hours to the now embarrassed ensign, an admiral spoke: "Ensign, what did you just say?"
The ensign moved closer to the admiral and started in. "Well, sir, I work in the communications area, and we've just picked up a rather distressing signal, to say the least. I never thought we'd hear their voices again, sir – not after they were so soundly defeated a few years back!" This ensign is going to get very emotional in a second, the admiral thought. Not wanting a "ready-to-burst" ensign on the command floor, he tried to calm the man down. "Calm down, Ensign. I'm sure it's nothing we need to worry about. If you could simply show us the transmission we would then be in a position to evaluate if we need to be worried or not." The ensign nodded and moved towards the large screen behind the admiral. He proceeded to type a few commands into a panel below the screen that would start the playback of the transmission. Then he stood back and turned away from the screen as if not wanting to see or hear what would soon be said.
"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. You will service the collective. Resistance is futile." There was total silence in the room as the message began to repeat. All eyes were on the screen, and there seemed to be a collective gasp. The admiral punched something on a panel near him, and the image froze.
After the initial shock was over, he whispered: "No wonder we lost contact with you a year ago, Kathryn."
It was true. Realization of who the speaker was, or rather, used to be ran through everyone's minds in the room. Voyager had been lost for several years, but regular contact had been established, then it had been lost about a year ago. Though several transmissions had been sent, none had been returned, and that certainly spelled trouble. With still several thousands of light years separating the Alpha quadrant and the last known position of Voyager, no wreckage had yet to be located. And now – knowledge most definitely was not bliss. Locutis had been shock enough, but now there was new enemy – with up-to-date information, no less. We barely won the last time. How are we going to win this time?
He turned, and with finality in his voice he spoke: "Recall all our ships!"
+ * +
Star Fleet Communique
From: Star Fleet Command
To: All Star Fleet Ship Captains
You are being immediately recalled to Starbase 1. We have a new threat from the Borg – in fact there's a large ship orbiting Earth at this moment. We have yet to engage them, nor have they engaged us, but we will need a sizeable force just in case. The warp five limitation is off – get back with your best speed.
The transmissions that have been sent have been attached to help bring you up to speed as to what you may face when you get here.
Jean-Luc Picard walked briskly out of his ready room and onto the bridge of the Enterprise E. How long ago was it that we fought of the Borg in this very same ship? Has it been five years? There was no time for remembrances, he chided himself, instead Earth was in dire need. "Commander Data, E.T.A. for Earth at best speed?"
"At warp 9.995, three days, seven hours, twenty-one minutes, and seven seconds," said the android.
Is that the best we can do? "Ensign Morales, lay in a course for Earth, Warp 9.995. Commander Worf, make sure that the I'lkoran are beamed back to I'kor with a suitable apology," Picard said solemnly. When the ensign had reported the course laid in, Picard was seated in the center chair noticing how well it fit his body. Looking towards the ensign, he pointed a finger. "Engage."
He paused a second, noticing that nearly all the eyes of the bridge crew were on him, waiting for him to explain why they had just offloaded their "precious" guests, and were now speeding back to Earth with such rarely used speed. Picard thought the news grim enough that it should be immediately delivered to his crew, but with caution. No use to stir up panic – yet. With that, he stood, straightened his tunic, and began to walk towards the conference room. "All senior crew report to the conference room now."
The doors hissed open and he walked into the dark room. The stars sped across the viewport with an urgency that he had not felt in years. He hadn't heard the collective in his mind for years – the last time they attacked he had known it. Why hadn't he known about this? Or how much have they changed in these years? He took his seat at the head of the table. While he was waiting for all his crew to come in, he was quickly creating the presentation the crew would need to see. Not all the crew would understand the significance of the transmission if they weren't brought up to speed.
After about ten minutes, all the senior crew members were
accounted for and sitting at their positions at the table. Picard looked over
them all. So many friends – more than just crew. William Riker sat to
his right, followed by Data – how human he has become in some thirty-five years
– and Geordi La Forge. His eyes finally look like real eyes, even though he
still sees so much more than normal eyes. So much pressure to conform, it
seems, to the norm of how we humans think we should look. Is it right? His
eyes fell on the doctor, Beverly Crusher, and then Worf and Deanna. They're all here. I guess we should get
started… He pressed the button on
the panel in front of him that would start the presentation.
A StarFleet ship shimmered into existence just above the table by using recently installed holo-projectors in the room. Across the saucer section was stenciled: USS Voyager. Picard began to speak. "As you all know, the Starship Voyager was lost about eight years ago. About four years ago Starfleet found away to remain in communication with them. Their journey home was expected to take about five more years from that point. Unfortunately, about a year ago, we lost all contact with the ship. We had no idea why, and we have yet to get to the last known position of the ship to investigate what happened.
"Now, however, we know what happened to the Voyager and her crew." Picard touched another button, and the ship was replaced by a face. Then it spoke:
"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. You will service the collective. Resistance is futile."
"Oh my…" was the collective voice of the senior crew. They all knew who captained the lost ship, and here was someone who used to be a Star Fleet captain, but was now obviously Borg. Picard continued, "It's obvious that the Borg have found a new spokesperson after their attempt with me as Locutis failed." He paused. "But now they have information about our technology as recent as a year ago."
The realization of this news finally sunk in. They had barely pulled Picard back from the Borg and it was only through Data's ingenuity had they defeated them. Would they be able to survive this new crisis with a much tougher enemy?
+ * +
Captain's Log, Stardate 64302.3921
Commander Data has informed me that we are within one hour of approaching the heart of the Federation: Earth. It was three days ago that we received the recall from StarFleet, and it has been about two days since we've received any communication from Earth. This has me very concerned that perhaps things have gone very wrong for Earth.
Turning to personal matters I have yet to decide if I will take a promotion to the admiralty, though I am leaning towards accepting the promotion. I know someone who will do just as good, if not better of a job than I in taking over the Enterprise and will recommend Commander Riker heartily. I know how much he has wanted to take over the reigns of th–
"Riker to Captain Picard," interrupted his communicator. "Computer, pause log recording." A twitter was the only acknowledgement that the log was paused. Picard tapped his insignia. "Picard here."
"We've got Starbase One on short range sensors. At
least – what there is left of it."
"Excuse me, Commander?" That didn't sound good at all.
"Perhaps you should come out here and see for yourself, sir."
"On my way. Picard out." Jean-Luc stood up from his seat and straightened out his uniform. I've got to stop doing that! he told himself. He walked out of his – stop that; it won't be mine much longer – the ready room and onto the bridge. "What's going on, Commander?"
Riker got out of the center chair to allow the captain to sit. "Starbase One is about four million miles away. As far as we can tell, there's a lot of debris out there, not complete structures – and there's too much debris to just account for Starbase One." Jean-Luc's worries were beginning to become reality. He said, "So we've got debris of ships as well as the starbase." Riker nodded gravely. "It looks that way, sir."
Picard sighed. "What about Earth?"
This time Commander Data replied. "Earth is at the very edge of short range sensors. It is still there. Anything more, concerning life signs, we won't know until we can get in orbit."
"On screen," said Picard.
The viewscreen shifted to show the view of the Earth. "Mr. Data, is there something wrong with our sensors?"
"No sir. May I ask why you should inquire?"
Picard thought it could just be his eyes, so he closed them and rubbed them in an attempt to clear his vision. But when he looked back at the screen, he still saw the same thing. "Mr. Data, do I see a ring around Earth?"
The android looked up and swiveled to face the captain. "Yes, sir. The ring would be the debris of the starbase and, it would seem, about one hundred ships."
If Picard would've been standing, he would've had trouble staying up from the blow of the number of ships destroyed. As it was, he could barely stay seated. How many souls were destroyed? "Where is the Borg ship?"
Riker responded: "It's not currently detectable on sensors. If it's still around, it could be behind the planet or the moon."
Or just hiding, cloaked perhaps? thought Picard. Who knows what they might have learned about current technology from the transmissions sent to Voyager – they might've found some tactics that they liked. One just never can tell with them.
Within seconds, though, the alert sirens were blaring as they had just been caught "with their pants down" so to speak. Data was the first to notice: "Sir! A vessel directly behind us!"
Captain Picard was out of his seat instantly. "On screen," he barked with an urgency that had not found its way into his voice for quite some time. Almost as quickly the ship appeared on the viewscreen. Immediately Picard forgot about the next command he was going to yell – he was dumbstruck by what was on the viewer. Actually – most of the crew were as well. Hanging out there in space was a glossy, shining Federation ship. When the shock had finally subsided, Riker yelled out "Ship's registry?"
Data tapped a few keys in the console directly in front of him and then turned around to face the commander. "Sir – it's broadcasting U.S.S. Voyager."
Picard was confused. "Friend or foe, Data?"
"My best 'guess,' sir, is foe – though I at am a loss to come up with a reason as to why we aren't facing a Borg cube instead."
"My thoughts exactly, Mr. Data."
Another voice intruded into the captain's thoughts. "Definitely foe, sir. I can't sense any of the normal emotions a Starfleet ship would be broadcasting," said the counselor. Picard turned around and walked back to his chair. I guess that answers that question. Why no Borg cube? Most puzzling.
Just before he sat down, he spun around in the direction of Ensign Morales. "Worf, raise shields. Ensign, prepare a quick 'get away' in case we need it. Worf, hail that ship."
"Shields raised, sir," came the gruff reply from tactical.
"Course plotted, sir," was the reply from the conn.
"Channel open, sir."
Picard cleared his throat and straightened his uniform – stop that! "On screen, Mr. Worf."
"Aye."
Most attempts at communication with a Borg ship resulted in the calling ship staring down a long hallway, directly towards the center of the ship. With this attempt, however, things were different. The bridge of the Voyager was clearly visible with several people manning their appropriate stations. There was a combined gasp when everyone realized that no one on Voyager looked like a Borg!
Without saying a word, Picard turned back around, gave the "kill" signal to Worf and looked straight at Deanna Troi. She looked back, slowly trying to gather her thoughts as to this strange occasion. "All I can say, sir, is that I don't sense anything from them." Picard wanted more concrete answers than this: "Theories, anyone?"
A voice came from behind. "Perhaps the Borg have the ability to significantly change they way they appear. It would certainly be most logical to appear in a way that would not frighten those you wish to assimilate. I presume that the victims would be less inclined to fight until it was too late."
Picard sighed. This could either be the real thing, or a very deep rabbit hole. He turned around whilst giving the "I want to talk to them" signal to Worf. And I've been falling really far, too. How much will the sudden stop at the bottom hurt? He stepped closer to the viewscreen.
"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the U.S.S. Enterprise, representing the United Federation of Planets. It's good to see you, Captain Janeway."
"It's good to see you too." The voice seemed pleasant enough. Could she really be a Borg? She looked so different in the transmissions sent to us by StarFleet Command. Could the Borg have assimilated some sort of 'shape shifting' technology? Questions to be resolved later, I suppose. "Welcome back to the Alpha Quadrant, Captain," he returned.
A smile appeared on the other captain's face. "Oh no, captain. It is I who welcome you back." There was a significant pause. I'm not going to like what I hear next, am I? – "Welcome home, Locutis."
Any geniality that the captain had had immediately disappeared, replaced with a frown on his somber face. "What have you done to Earth?" he asked – very afraid of the answer.
"Why nothing, Locutis. We merely took it for our own. Your petty Federation now serves the collective. Why, StarFleet doesn't even exist now! Resistance is futile, Locutis. You of all drones should know that best."
At that very instant a swarm of voices began to sing in chorus in Picard's mind. The shock of suddenly being so overwhelmed with the voices of the collective caused him to stagger back, dazed. At the very edge of his senses, he heard a voice holler "Captain? Are you all right?" and "Deanna to Doctor Crusher. Captain Picard's having some problems up here". Everything was quickly fading out to black as the chorus in his mind swelled with some dreadful crescendo. Stop! STOP! My mind is my OWN! Picard yelled throughout his mind. There seemed to be no end to the awful song in his mind, interleaving through his thoughts, beginning to make more and more twisted sense. The rest of his senses were quickly leaving him. I can't see anything – where am I? – what am I doing? – stop, Stop, STOP!
Riker was kneeling over the captain. "Are you all right, sir?"
Deanna suddenly sensed something pop in the mind of the captain. "Will! Get Back!" Surprised, Will jumped back slightly. The captain's eyes were open, and his mouth began to move.
"Species: Human. Name: William T. Riker. Rank: Commander in now defunct Star Fleet. You will be assimilated. Resistance is, and always has been, futile."