Act Five: "What's Borg Got To Do With It?"
The world stood out like the sorest thumb in the universe. No oceans, no forests, no living entities . . . save one.
The Borg.
Billions of drones strode between the vast, dark and purely technological walls and cities. Some were for construction, others for science and still others for defense and invasion.
In the highest and most secure of the landmarks of this terrible planets, there lies a Queen awaiting for a moment of truth.
"How much longer?" she mused to a large alien behind her. She spun around. "How much longer must I suffer like this? Hearing the voices of my drones, but not able to interact with them."
A large alien, covered in tentacles and a eyes stood behind her. "I do not know," the alien replied.
"You Kelvans have a most enduring quality of stating the obvious."
The Kelvan – Jas'Don – eyed the Queen. "When you complete the project you started for us, we will allow you to assimilate a dozen of our units. That should allow your collective net to heal."
"Damn that Janeway," the Queen cursed. "Her virus disrupted my feed. The Borg is in retreat. Damn her!"
"As I said, all will be healed when you - "
"Finish your damn project! I know this!" the Queen countered. She soothed herself quickly. "Tell me, Jas'Don, where is the second half of this project occurring?"
"The Federation's share is still being worked on. If they only knew the two of you were working side-by-side."
"The irony," the Queen grinned. "When this is over, we will take the Federation."
"Indeed."
***
Jean-Luc Picard stood, his eyes gazing out the window of this quarters. Somewhere, in the bowels of his ship, a dark splotch was growing and growing. And as he had many times before, the decorated Starfleet Captain fears for the very heart and soul of the United Federation of Planets.
There was burst of plasma from the nebula outside his window. It was far enough away, but it still worried him.
"Captain Picard to the Bridge."
Sighing heavily, he made way to the Bridge, where he found the Navigational Officer – one Tom Paris – and William Riker arguing.
"Number One, what's going on here?"
"Mr. Paris here wants to take the ship into that pocket of radiation. He says he was ordered to, but . . ."
"I was ordered to. By Admiral Janeway herself."
Picard looked at the viewscreen. "That pocket contains very high and dangerous levels of radiation."
"Stand down, gentlemen," Janeway interrupted, stepping quickly to the Bridge. She turned swiftly to Data. "Mr. Data, how long – if we remained at the very edge of that pocket – would it be until the radiation affected the ship?"
Data paused very briefly. "Forty-five minutes, Admiral."
"Mr. Paris?"
"I'm on it, Admiral."
"Good," Janeway approved. She turned to Picard and Riker. "We'll be in and out before the radiation even begins to touch us."
"Be sure of that, Admiral," Picard responded. "Because I'm pulling the ship out at thirty-five minutes."
Janeway scoffed and walked off.
"Number One," Picard said, stepping next to his first officer. "Poker. Your quarters. Tonight."
"Of course, sir," Riker agreed, nodding and acknowledging a secret message from the Captain.
"Mr. Data," Picard called. Data walked over. "Mr. Data, Commander Riker is having a Poker game tonight. I expect you will be joining us."
"Of course, sir."
Picard grinned. "Good. And Data?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Don't forget to bluff tonight."
Data paused and then nodded swiftly.
***
Janeway walked through the double doors of the Cargo Bay. Her entire staff was busying themselves. Five of the Engineering staff was at work on a large containment bay, while the other half worked on the processing of the Boromite Ore. The other ten was hard at work on the recent samples that had gathered from the X-Class nebula.
"We're almost ready, Admiral," Torres said from behind. "This G-Type Plasma we gathered is making the work all the faster."
"Good. The Containment Unit?"
"It's producing the results we want. The Harmonic Resonance is working wonders."
Just then, Seven of Nine stepped over. "Admiral, we are ready for our next installment."
"Good. Prepare the transporters."
***
That night, Lieutenant Commander Data stepped through the threshold of Commander Riker's quarters and joined the rest of the senior staff.
"Well, Mr. Data?"
"If anyone were to attempt to listen in on this room, they will find last night's poker game. We are safe."
"Good."
Captain Picard sat down on Riker's couch. "So . . . what do we have?"
"We know that their Doctor was tampered with," Geordi said first. "The program we've got running in the Holodeck seems to be the original program used on Voyager. The run in Sickbay and using the Mobile Emitter is not the same one. It appears to be a duplicate program, using the originals files and memories."
"Something else," said Crusher, now adding her two cents. "The Doctor in Sickbay. When that Borg started having seizures, he demanded to work on her. He pushed me away. But I did get a peek at what was being displayed on my tricorder. There looked to be a virus in her system, but nothing I've ever seen before. It was all centered at the base of her brain. Near the brain-steam."
"I wonder," Picard thought aloud. "Counselor, you've been complaining about headaches recently, haven't you?"
"Yes. They've been occurring ever since the staff came on board. In fact, now that I think about it, they've increased each time one of them is around."
"Data, could you check with the transport logs and see if this virus came up in the files?" Riker suggested.
"I would, but if you recall, the staff used shuttles," Data replied.
"This sounds like a longshot, but could they be mind-controlled?" wondered Geordi. "With what you told us of what happened on Datora, that doesn't sound like Starfleet Intelligence-type security. Usually, three swift phaser shots and it's done."
"It's a far reach," Riker admitted. "But I'm one to agree with you."
"It wouldn't be that far," said Crusher. "That virus could be what is controlling them. It could be what is causing Deanna's headaches."
"It may also explain why you were taken down to the surface," Troi pondered. "A sub-conscious plea for help."
Picard nodded. "It seems to be a stronger case after we put more and more of it together. I wonder though . . . Seven of Nine still possess the nanites that Borg use to fight infections. That would explain why she had a seizure – the nanites were trying to fight the virus at the base of her brain."
There was a moment of thought and silence.
"I don't like the idea of secret negotiations, either. Whatever they're building down there, it's big. I can tell you that much," confessed Geordi.
"Yes," Picard said quietly. "And that's something I intend on figuring out."
"This secret project seems almost like a peace offering for the secret people we're talking with," Riker explained. "I wonder what could be so powerful to remain so secret."
Picard's eyes opened widely at those words. Something was starting to click. It was all starting to make sense now.
The rest of the evening was spent determining how to get a confirmation of the virus in some of the other staff members. It was decided that Data would try to get a scan the next day when Janeway visited the Bridge. That would work. And then, as far as that went, the senior staff would go from there.
But as far as Jean-Luc Picard knew, he knew at least part of the Federation's secret plans and their 'peace offering.' He kicked himself for not realizing it earlier.
The Federation was creating the Omega Particle.
The world stood out like the sorest thumb in the universe. No oceans, no forests, no living entities . . . save one.
The Borg.
Billions of drones strode between the vast, dark and purely technological walls and cities. Some were for construction, others for science and still others for defense and invasion.
In the highest and most secure of the landmarks of this terrible planets, there lies a Queen awaiting for a moment of truth.
"How much longer?" she mused to a large alien behind her. She spun around. "How much longer must I suffer like this? Hearing the voices of my drones, but not able to interact with them."
A large alien, covered in tentacles and a eyes stood behind her. "I do not know," the alien replied.
"You Kelvans have a most enduring quality of stating the obvious."
The Kelvan – Jas'Don – eyed the Queen. "When you complete the project you started for us, we will allow you to assimilate a dozen of our units. That should allow your collective net to heal."
"Damn that Janeway," the Queen cursed. "Her virus disrupted my feed. The Borg is in retreat. Damn her!"
"As I said, all will be healed when you - "
"Finish your damn project! I know this!" the Queen countered. She soothed herself quickly. "Tell me, Jas'Don, where is the second half of this project occurring?"
"The Federation's share is still being worked on. If they only knew the two of you were working side-by-side."
"The irony," the Queen grinned. "When this is over, we will take the Federation."
"Indeed."
***
Jean-Luc Picard stood, his eyes gazing out the window of this quarters. Somewhere, in the bowels of his ship, a dark splotch was growing and growing. And as he had many times before, the decorated Starfleet Captain fears for the very heart and soul of the United Federation of Planets.
There was burst of plasma from the nebula outside his window. It was far enough away, but it still worried him.
"Captain Picard to the Bridge."
Sighing heavily, he made way to the Bridge, where he found the Navigational Officer – one Tom Paris – and William Riker arguing.
"Number One, what's going on here?"
"Mr. Paris here wants to take the ship into that pocket of radiation. He says he was ordered to, but . . ."
"I was ordered to. By Admiral Janeway herself."
Picard looked at the viewscreen. "That pocket contains very high and dangerous levels of radiation."
"Stand down, gentlemen," Janeway interrupted, stepping quickly to the Bridge. She turned swiftly to Data. "Mr. Data, how long – if we remained at the very edge of that pocket – would it be until the radiation affected the ship?"
Data paused very briefly. "Forty-five minutes, Admiral."
"Mr. Paris?"
"I'm on it, Admiral."
"Good," Janeway approved. She turned to Picard and Riker. "We'll be in and out before the radiation even begins to touch us."
"Be sure of that, Admiral," Picard responded. "Because I'm pulling the ship out at thirty-five minutes."
Janeway scoffed and walked off.
"Number One," Picard said, stepping next to his first officer. "Poker. Your quarters. Tonight."
"Of course, sir," Riker agreed, nodding and acknowledging a secret message from the Captain.
"Mr. Data," Picard called. Data walked over. "Mr. Data, Commander Riker is having a Poker game tonight. I expect you will be joining us."
"Of course, sir."
Picard grinned. "Good. And Data?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Don't forget to bluff tonight."
Data paused and then nodded swiftly.
***
Janeway walked through the double doors of the Cargo Bay. Her entire staff was busying themselves. Five of the Engineering staff was at work on a large containment bay, while the other half worked on the processing of the Boromite Ore. The other ten was hard at work on the recent samples that had gathered from the X-Class nebula.
"We're almost ready, Admiral," Torres said from behind. "This G-Type Plasma we gathered is making the work all the faster."
"Good. The Containment Unit?"
"It's producing the results we want. The Harmonic Resonance is working wonders."
Just then, Seven of Nine stepped over. "Admiral, we are ready for our next installment."
"Good. Prepare the transporters."
***
That night, Lieutenant Commander Data stepped through the threshold of Commander Riker's quarters and joined the rest of the senior staff.
"Well, Mr. Data?"
"If anyone were to attempt to listen in on this room, they will find last night's poker game. We are safe."
"Good."
Captain Picard sat down on Riker's couch. "So . . . what do we have?"
"We know that their Doctor was tampered with," Geordi said first. "The program we've got running in the Holodeck seems to be the original program used on Voyager. The run in Sickbay and using the Mobile Emitter is not the same one. It appears to be a duplicate program, using the originals files and memories."
"Something else," said Crusher, now adding her two cents. "The Doctor in Sickbay. When that Borg started having seizures, he demanded to work on her. He pushed me away. But I did get a peek at what was being displayed on my tricorder. There looked to be a virus in her system, but nothing I've ever seen before. It was all centered at the base of her brain. Near the brain-steam."
"I wonder," Picard thought aloud. "Counselor, you've been complaining about headaches recently, haven't you?"
"Yes. They've been occurring ever since the staff came on board. In fact, now that I think about it, they've increased each time one of them is around."
"Data, could you check with the transport logs and see if this virus came up in the files?" Riker suggested.
"I would, but if you recall, the staff used shuttles," Data replied.
"This sounds like a longshot, but could they be mind-controlled?" wondered Geordi. "With what you told us of what happened on Datora, that doesn't sound like Starfleet Intelligence-type security. Usually, three swift phaser shots and it's done."
"It's a far reach," Riker admitted. "But I'm one to agree with you."
"It wouldn't be that far," said Crusher. "That virus could be what is controlling them. It could be what is causing Deanna's headaches."
"It may also explain why you were taken down to the surface," Troi pondered. "A sub-conscious plea for help."
Picard nodded. "It seems to be a stronger case after we put more and more of it together. I wonder though . . . Seven of Nine still possess the nanites that Borg use to fight infections. That would explain why she had a seizure – the nanites were trying to fight the virus at the base of her brain."
There was a moment of thought and silence.
"I don't like the idea of secret negotiations, either. Whatever they're building down there, it's big. I can tell you that much," confessed Geordi.
"Yes," Picard said quietly. "And that's something I intend on figuring out."
"This secret project seems almost like a peace offering for the secret people we're talking with," Riker explained. "I wonder what could be so powerful to remain so secret."
Picard's eyes opened widely at those words. Something was starting to click. It was all starting to make sense now.
The rest of the evening was spent determining how to get a confirmation of the virus in some of the other staff members. It was decided that Data would try to get a scan the next day when Janeway visited the Bridge. That would work. And then, as far as that went, the senior staff would go from there.
But as far as Jean-Luc Picard knew, he knew at least part of the Federation's secret plans and their 'peace offering.' He kicked himself for not realizing it earlier.
The Federation was creating the Omega Particle.