"Outpost log, supplemental. The trade negotiations with the Terroanians are complete. They have given us full access to the foodstuffs and titanium markets on their homeworld. The extra foodstuffs should greatly help the Federation's relief efforts on planet's ravaged during the Dominion War. Ambassador Telek has been a milestone during all this, and I admire him as much as any other Ambassador in the Federation. We are now preparing for our first shipment of foodstuffs from Terro."
Commander Giles paused for a moment of thought. He could say a thousand other good things about Ambassador Telek, but this was the official log, not Giles's personal log. And everything official had already been said.
"Computer, end log." A mechanical sound, and the log closed.
Commander Giles leaned back in his seat, sighing deeply and stretching out his arms. It had been a long day, but it had ended well. Time to celebrate again. Giles lifted himself out of his chair and hurried over to the replicator on the opposite side of his office. "Saurian brandy," he ordered the computer. A swirl of energy and matter combined inside the small chamber, and a chestnut-colored glass was formed, filled with carbonating brandy. Giles pick ed it up and took in a mouthful. His tongue tingled. Giles swallowed, and then his throat tingled.
"Anderson to Giles. You better get out here. Long range sensors have picked up a Borg cube entering our system."
The sip Giles was taking suddenly turned sour. "On my way." He dropped the mug back into the chamber, where the matter reclamator made it vanish. The Commander rushed out into operations.
"Where is it now?" he asked immediately.
Lieutenant Commander Brian Anderson was hunched over his console. "It just crossed our border, bearing 189 Mark 4. ETA one minute, seven seconds."
"Red alert!" Giles ordered. "All hands to battle stations." The once-peaceful operations chamber suddenly became filled with the sounds of blaring klaxons and a dozen flashing red lights. Giles marched over to Anderson. "Issue the evacuation order, and tell them to hurry. Only what they can carry."
"Aye, sir."
"Fifty seconds to intercept."
Giles moved to the tactical console. "Target the cube as soon as you can and fire at will."
"Yes, sir."
Giles stood to his full height. And waited in excitement and anticipation. He had never dealt with the Borg before, but had heard enough about them to be very afraid at that moment. His heart beat faster than the seconds counting down on the viewscreen of the ops center.
"Thirty seconds to intercept."
Giles gulped, and waited.