Chapter 2

~Twelve months previous: the U.S.S. Cerritos~

The red-alert blared overhead in a perpetual shriek as the turbolift doors opened. "Shaxs, get them out of here!" Freeman bellowed, sparing only a moment's glance over her shoulder before the ship shuddered under her feet and she turned back to the sight of the menacing black Cube filling the viewscreen.

"I'm trying!" Shaxs roared, firing his rifle; the wide shot arched across the bridge and felled the two approaching Borg drones, but more materialized in their place, stepping over their fallen comrades onto the bridge. He dropped his rifle and pulled out his phaser, firing several more shots. "I'm running out of phaser frequencies here, Captain; we can't let them keep boarding us! Just let me fire at the Cube!"

"No! The away team isn't back with the diplomat yet; if we destroy the Cube and get him killed it'll be an intergalactic incident! We have to wait!"

"What are they even doing here?!" T'Ana snarled, punching buttons on her screen. "We're in the fucking alpha quadrant; we're nowhere near Borg space!"

"We'll worry about that later; Billups, report!"

"They've got us in their tractor beam and we've got them in ours, Captain; engines are pulling full away to keep us steady!"

"Good; keep scrambling their transporter frequencies, buy the away team some more time!" The ship shuddered as another blast from the Borg cube ripped into their hull on some lower deck. "What about our shields?"

Billups typed something into the computer and then hit it with his fist. "Still offline, Captain! We've got hits on decks three, five and nine; I don't know how much more of this we can take!"

"Dozen casualties and rising," T'Ana reported from her screen. "Captain, we've gotta get the hell out of here!"

Freeman swore under her breath and punched her badge again. "Captain Freeman to away team, tell me you've got the diplomat!"

"Ensign Rutherford responding; we've got him, Captain, but–!"

"Acknowledged, Rutherford, prepare to beam back!"

"But Captain, not everyone's back yet–!"

"Back from where?! Nevermind, we'll beam them back too! Captain to transport: get our guys out of that Cube! Now!" Even as she said it the Borg Cube fired off another volley of shots.

"Aye, Captain–!" The whole bridge crew was rocked sideways as the volley hit, and the captain went stumbling over the side of her chair.

The ship shuddered again and then, abruptly—it stopped. The blasts of green light filling the bridge windows died. Shaxs watched as the drones suddenly lowered their weapons and green particles of light began to swirl around them; he fired off another phaser shot, but it had no effect as the drones were beamed away. The whole room felt eerily still and quiet, despite the blare of the red-alarm.

Carol staggered to her feet, looking around. "What in the hell just happened?!" she demanded. The Borg cube was still onscreen, perfectly still, both tractor beams still in place.

Shaxs checked his screen on his own station and read the incoming reports. "Captain, the Borg drones have…beamed away," he reported, looking back over his shoulder with a frown. "There's none left on the ship."

Carol's own frown deepened. "They just left? What about our diplomat?"

"He's onboard, captain," Billups reported, looking over his own scans. "Computer scans locate one Ambassador Bonhomme in the transporter bay."

"So they just gave up?" T'Ana said, looking around in bewilderment. "Why would they do that? Especially now that we've got their captive back?"

"That's a pretty small cube, and it's out in the middle of nowhere; maybe they didn't want to risk further damage from our torpedoes," Ransom guessed.

The captain nodded. "Weapons, hold your fire but keep at the ready; Captain to transporter bay, everyone alright down there?"

"This is transporter bay to bridge; we've got the diplomat, captain, but…some of the away crew didn't beam back onboard."

"What do you mean, 'some?' Who's not there?"

"...Ensigns Mariner and Boimler, Captain."

Silence filled the bridge, everyone looking anxiously at the captain. She sucked in a breath and tapped her badge again. "Mariner and Boimler, report! Where are you?!"

There was no response. In the first mate's chair, Jack's face began to grow tense. "Captain–"

Freeman ignored him. "Beckett! Report your location, on the double!" Still nothing; she growled and punched the badge again. "Ensigns Rutherford and Tendi, where the hell are Mr. Boimler and my daughter?!"

Tendi's voice gasped out of the badge first; it sounded as if she'd been running: "The Borg drones were chasing Mariner and Boimler for some reason; we don't know why–"

"They lured them off long enough for us to find the diplomat," Rutherford panted. "They said once they were at a safe distance they'd call you to beam them back. D-didn't they call you?"

"We're working on it, Mr. Rutherford." The captain tapped her badge again and pointed to the engineer. "Mr. Billups, scan for human life on the Borg ship."

Billups tapped a few buttons and shook his head. "There are no humans onboard the Borg ship, Captain."

She swallowed hard and nodded. "Any dead?"

"No, Captain. No humans of any kind, alive or dead. Maybe they escaped in some kind of shuttle-craft; I'll scan the surrounding– Hold on." He paused, frowning, and then continued: "We're receiving a message from the Borg ship, Captain. They're offering a deal: they'll release their tractor beam if we do ours. They want to cease fighting and avoid further casualties."

"What the hell?" T'Ana said, glancing at Ransom. "So they appear out of nowhere, kidnap our diplomat, let him escape and then try for a ceasefire? Does that sound like the Borg to you?" He shook his head, mystified.

"Hail the borg ship, Commander," the captain ordered. Jack hesitated.

"Captain, I don't–"

"That was an order, Mr. Ransom, not a suggestion!"

"Yes, Captain."

The screen flickered and then opened up to a window displaying a Borg drone. It regarded them impassively. "Captain Freeman of the Starship Cerritos."

"That's right," Carol growled. "I'd ask for your name but I know you haven't got one; either way, maybe you can tell me what the hell is going on here!"

"Visual communication is pointless. You must accept our bargain or reengage hostilities."

"We can get around to bargains just as soon as you answer some questions! Like how the hell did you get into this quadrant without being spotted, why did you attack us, and finally, where is my daughter?!"

The drone tilted its head. "Your…daughter?"

"Becket Mariner!" Freeman roared. "Where is Becket Mariner! Do you have her, you foul, brainless–"

"Scan complete. The one who was known as Becket Mariner has been assimilated."

The captain stopped dead, her face turning an almost ashen gray, and a strangled little noise came out of her throat. Ransom glanced at her and then back at the screen. "And what about Ensign Boimler?"

"The one who was known as Bradward Boimler has also been assimilated. As you someday will be. We are the Borg. Resistance is fut–"

"Give her back," the captain hissed, stepping forward. "Give her back, right now, or I swear to every god that can hear me I'll make your entire collective suffer like you've never suffered before!"

"We are the Borg. Resistance is futile."

"GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

Ransom ended the call, and the captain rounded on him. "Who told you you could do that?! Hail the Borg ship!"

"Captain, there's no point. You know they don't communicate like–"

"Captain, the Borg ship is departing," Billups reported nervously. Freeman threw her hands up in the air.

"Is everyone on this ship incompetent?! What are you waiting for, pursue them!"

"Belay that order, Lieutenant!" Ransom snapped. "Captain, I know you're scared for Mariner–"

"How dare you contradict my orders!" She jabbed a finger at him, advancing, and Jack took several steps back. "This is insubordination! I'll have you thrown in the brig, Ransom, I'll have your badge and–"

"Captain, we've taken critical hits, people are dead and our shields are down; we're in no position to fight a Borg cube, especially one we don't know where the hell it came from or why it's here!" She just glared at him, fury in every inch of her face. "We can't risk a whole starship for two ensigns, no matter who they are! You know that."

She struggled for another moment, looking as if she wanted to argue, and then turned her head to look at the screen. The Borg cube was growing smaller and smaller—retreating from the fight. The red-alert lights continued to blink on and off.

"Captain," Ransom said quietly. "We can't."

The rest of the bridge crew watched in silence as tears filled her eyes, and then she gave a single nod, stepping back and clasping her hands tightly behind her back as she watched the cube grow smaller and smaller until it vanished. Only once it had did she reach forward with a shaking hand, turn off the red-alert and tap her badge.

"Captain to crew…the Borg ship has retreated. I repeat, the Borg ship has retreated. We were…victorious."

She paused, and then clicked her comm button again, shutting off the communication. Once again silence reigned over the bridge; the rest of the officers shared somber glances. "Captain–" Ransom began, but she shook her head and turned her back, heading for the hall.

"Come on, Carol," said T'Ana quietly, gingerly following behind her and guiding her towards the doors. "Let's– let's get you down into sickbay, come on…"

As the doors slid shut behind them, T'Ana heard rather than saw as Ransom took the captain's chair and announced, with no small amount of guilt: "Navigator, resume course for Areolus. We've…got a diplomatic mission to finish."

Down belowdecks in the transporter bay, Tendi and Rutherford shared a scared look as the other members of the away-team helped the diplomat, a tall human man in in a dark suit, stumble away towards the hall. "We're moving into warp," Rutherford said, noticing the stars start to shift outside the windows.

"But Boimler and Mariner aren't back yet…" Tendi trailed off. Both turned to look out the window as the ship jumped to warp—leaving their friends somewhere far behind.

~Present Day: the starcraft Modesto~

Tendi and Rutherford stared up at the Borg ship. It was impossible to not find themselves suddenly afraid, even after months of reconciling themselves to the plan, of realizing that the best possible outcome involved confronting a Borg ship all on their own. It was, to say the least, a lot for two mere ensigns to confront.

But thankfully, they had a captain to lead them.

"Alright, everyone, we all know the plan," Mrs. Freeman said, shouldering her phaser-rifle and buttoning her space-suit. "We search floor by floor as a team until we find them; all the reports from the Enterprise and the Voyager indicate they shouldn't interfere with us unless we interfere with them first. Do not engage with the Borg drones unless absolutely necessary." Both ensigns nodded resolutely, and she reached into her pocket. "The technology you two have developed is too important to let fall into Borg hands; we must avoid assimilation at all costs." She opened up her hand to reveal three small, white pills. "No matter what."

Rutherford and Tendi looked at each other and, drawing simultaneous deep breaths, nodded again. They each took a pill from the older woman and tucked it into a hidden compartment on their jacket collars. Mrs. Freeman tucked hers into her own collar. "Once we find either Beckett or Mr. Boimler, we'll try to compel them to tell us where the other is; if we're unsuccessful, depending on who we've found, we'll search as long as we can and then we'll either all leave with Beckett, or you two will leave with Mr. Boimler and I will stay behind to look for her."

Tendi nodded. "Understood, Captain. But we're going to find both of them."

"We have to," Rutherford agreed.

Mrs. Freeman eyed them both, and then gave a tired smile. "You're both loyal friends to my daughter and Mr. Boimler, and in my opinion the cream of Starfleet's crop. I wouldn't want anyone else at my side today." They managed small but resolute smiles back at her. "Mr. Rutherford, you have the auto-transporters locked with the Borg ship's and the Modesto's coordinates?"

"Aye, Captain."

"Good. Pilot us around to the other side of the Cube, I don't want our getaway vehicle getting blown up by a stray photon torpedo." Sam nodded and guided the Modesto around the edge of the Cube until the battle was out of sight, the illumination of the explosions silhouetting the harsh black edges of the corners. "Alright, everyone, remember, we've only got one shot at this." She handed them each their rifles and then took hold of her suit helmet. "On my count."

All three put on their helmets, and then arranged themselves on the miniature transporter bay as Rutherford fastened two watch-like devices over his arm. "Three," Mrs. Freeman said firmly, her voice slightly muffled by her helmet. "Two. One. Energize."

~Twelve Months Previous~

When Tendi and Rutherford at last found the captain, it was in a packed, hectic sickbay; injured crewmembers were either leaning against the walls nursing broken limbs and bloody first-aid bandages, or laid biobeds, their groans and quiet crying mingling with the beeps and trills of the diagnostic screens. Dr. T'Ana barely spared them a once-over before hurrying off to a biobed where a patient had started spasming, their heart monitor speeding up.

In the midst of this chaos Tendi spotted a familiar figure sitting on a bench. "There!" Tendi said, and they hurried over, only to stop abruptly upon getting a clear view of the captain of the captain. Carol Freeman was draped in a silver shock-blanket and hunched over a cup of untouched coffee, staring mutely at some invisible point on the wall. When she heard them approach she looked up and met their eyes briefly, fresh guilt flooding her face, and then dropped her gaze again.

Tendi and Rutherford both felt their hearts sink. "No…" Tendi nearly whispered. The captain flinched at the word, and turned her face away as they drew closer to her.

"I'm sorry," she said hoarsely, staring down into her mug. "The Borg has them, there was– there was nothing I could do."

The two ensigns shared a look, and then sat down next to her on the bench; Tendi set a gentle hand on the older woman's shoulder. "Mariner would have understood," she said quietly, but the captain's grief-stricken expression didn't change.

"I failed her as a mother and as a captain." She clutched the mug in her hands so hard it shook, the surface of the replicated coffee punctuated by little ripples. "I wish I'd never encouraged her to join Starfleet. I wish…"

"Captain, you can't blame yourself," Tendi insisted.

"Yeah, Mariner and Boimler, they knew the risks," Rutherford agreed. "They loved being in Starfleet; they wouldn't have been here if they hadn't wanted to be." The captain didn't have a response to that, just shook her head, staring into the coffee like she was wishing it would drown her. Silence fell over the three of them, a little bubble of grief in the midst of the packed medbay.

"I can't believe it," Tendi said lowly at last. "They're just… gone." She sniffled, and Rutherford pulled her into a hug, though he had nothing to say to comfort her. Tendi was right, after all: the Borg ship was gone, and Mariner and Boimler were gone with it. What were the chances of ever coming across one specific Borg ship in the entirety of the universe, let alone finding two specific drones? And what starship crew would ever agree to send itself on a near-suicide mission for just two people? Rutherford was a scientific man, and he had to face facts: the odds of ever getting his friends back were astronomically–

"No."

Both looked over at Captain Freeman's low growl. "Uh…Captain?" Rutherford said, but at last the woman had lifted her face. Her expression was set, determined—almost cold.

"Beckett's not gone. I refuse to believe it." She stood up and shook off the foil blanket. "Even if she's been assimilated, she's still out there somewhere. She's still alive." These last words were hissed. "And that means I can get her back."

"Captain, wait!" Tendi insisted as they stood as well, but Freeman was already walking. "Of course we want to get them back, but you can't risk a whole starship for two people! It's not ethical!"

"Yeah, 'the needs of the many–'" Rutherford began, but the captain cut him off.

"'–outweigh the needs of the few,' yes, I know! And I have no intention of endangering anyone on this ship except myself!"

"What are you–"

"Beckett is my daughter, I won't give up on her! I can't ask anyone else to follow me—but damn it all, I can go after her on my own!"

~Present Day~

The warp faded away, and the three humans looked around. Their magnetized boots had connected them securely with the exterior wall of the cube, but the endless void of space still curved around them like the inside of an impossible large bowl, the greenish auroras from the nebula providing low-level ambient light. Explosions still echoed through their feet from the battle on the other side of the cube as they looked around.

"Come on," Rutherford said, voice hushed. "There should be a shuttle bay just over that way; let's get inside."

"Yeah, I'm not liking being out here all exposed," Tendi agreed, breath fogging on the inside of her helmet. The captain didn't answer, instead walking in the direction of the bay port.

The bay port turned out to be little more than a gaping hole in the side of the ship, unguarded by anything more robust than a force field that rippled as they passed it. All three of them exhaled a sigh of relief as they found themselves back inside a vessel, even if it was a hostile one, and Rutherford checked his eyepiece. "Atmosphere's breathable, Captain."

"We should conserve our oxygen," Carol agreed. "Visors up, but keep your helmets on." They agreed and disengaged the visors on their helmets, breathing in the stale air of the Borg ship. The captain pulled out the tracker again; the blinking green dot was now significantly closer. "She's somewhere within a thousand feet of here." So close I can practically see her.

"Any idea where on the ship, Captain?"

"Roughly that way," she said, nodding down a side-hallway that branched off from the port bay. "But there's no way of telling which floor; the tracker was configured for the U.S.S. Beckett, it can't show her exact location anywhere else."

"It's a start," Tendi encouraged. They all stopped as another explosion shook the ship under their feet. "But um, maybe we should hurry–"

"This way," the captain ordered, taking the lead down the tunnel. Tendi and Rutherford shared a look and then followed after her.

Eerie semi-quiet surrounded them as they walked, the faint trilling and beeping of electronics broken only by the sounds of their own footsteps and the occasional explosions from the other side of the ship. They stopped just before a crossroads, backs to the wall, as the captain checked the tracker. "Through here," she whispered, pointing down the left path, and they skirted around the corner and then up a flight of stairs.

"Y'know, this isn't so bad," Rutherford whispered to Tendi as they crept along. "We haven't even seen a single borg dr–ohh. Oh."

They had come through an archway into a wide hallway, lined on both sides by Borg regeneration stations; the platforms went up several stories. "Found them," Tendi squeaked.

"Stay calm," the captain ordered in a low voice. "They're regenerating." She was right; none of the drones in the stations were moving, their eyes (for those of them who had eyes) closed and expressionless. "The Borg doesn't usually assimilate small groups; so long as we don't wake them up, we should be able to pass unnoticed."

Slowly, quietly, the trio began to make their way across the hall. It seemed to somehow feel even longer with each passing step. Rutherford shot a nervous look up at the unconscious drones; he wasn't as confident as he wished he were about the Borg not targeting individuals, not after what he'd seen the last time he was aboard this ship. For some reason that he still didn't understand, the drones had been chasing Mariner and Boimler, and then there was the fact that they'd targeted the Terran diplomat, going so far as to forcibly board a Federation Starship in the middle of the Alpha Quadrant just to kidnap the guy.

The official Starfleet reports could say whatever they wanted. He knew what he'd seen, even if he didn't understand it. Mariner and Boimler could have more answers—if they ever got them back.

He felt and then heard, rather than saw, as his foot struck something small and metallic. The screw went bouncing off the metal walkway, the clanks echoing through the hall and off the metal walls. Tendi and the captain both turned to look at him in horror and then watched the loose hardware go skittering across the floor until at last it stopped with an almighty rattle.

"Rutherford!" Tendi hissed, eyes flashing upwards to the sleeping drones.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know it was there!"

All three of them waited in painful silence, rifles at the ready. At last, after several seconds of none of the regenerating drones opening their eyes, all three let out quiet sighs of relief.

And that was then they heard it: the sound of footsteps and the telltale hiss-hiss of a borg drone, approaching the doorway in front of them.

~Twelve Months Previous~

"Carol, no! It's too dangerous; let me go after her!"

"Zo, you know that's not an option; you're an admiral!" Carol insisted. Her husband looked away, jaw tight and eyes wet. "You know secrets about Starfleet that the Borg would love to get their nanoprobes on; it's too dangerous–!"

"I don't give a damn! I just lost my daughter; now you want me to risk losing my wife too?! No, I'll find a workaround– I'll have some crazy doctor erase my classified memories or–!"

"You and I both know that memory erasure is never permanent! And what about me, huh?! You think I'd like sitting at home any better than you would?!" Zo shook his head, glaring glassy-eyed into the middle-distance off-frame, and Carol sighed. "Zo. You know I'm right about this, Starfleet needs you!"

"You need me. Beckett needs me! What kind of father am I if I can't even protect my own daughter!"

"Apparently the same kind of mother I am," his wife said morosely. At last Alonzo looked back at the screen, face turning guilty.

"Care', I didn't mean–"

"I know. But I lost her, Zo. I failed her." Her face looked drawn, as if she'd aged years over the span of just a few hours. "And that's why I've got to be the one who finds her."

Alonzo pursed his lips, and then sighed, shoulders slumping. "Okay, Carol. We'll do this your way."

She nodded. "I'll see you back in San Francisco; I'll need some time to prepare before I head out. Goodbye, Zo. I'm…" sorry. "I love you."

"Love you too. I'll– I'll see you soon."

The videocall ended, and the captain stood with a heavy sigh, walking to the window. The blackness beyond was unusually dark, speckled with only the most distant stars. The worlds around them felt even more distant still.

One cube, in all the Alpha quadrant…if she drove herself mad trying to find it, well, nobody in the fleet would be surprised.

The door to her ready-room slid open behind her, and she turned, already rubbing the bridge of her nose to stave off an oncoming migraine. "Listen, Jack, this really isn't a good– oh." Ensigns Tendi and Rutherford were both standing in the doorway, dressed in civilian clothing with their standard-issue duffel bags slung over their shoulders. "Ensigns, what are you–"

"Sorry for the sudden notice, Captain," Tendi said quietly. "But we need to take a leave of absence."

"No," Carol said immediately, stepping away from the window, "I can't ask you to do that–"

"And we're not asking, either. We're going with you," the Orion said firmly. Rutherford nodded beside her.

"Mariner and Boimler are our friends; they'd never abandon us, so we're not abandoning them. And who knows? Maybe we can figure out some way to help find them, or even deassimilate them!"

The captain looked between the two of them, seeing the earnestness in their faces, and then gave a tired smile and a nod. "Well…then it looks like my daughter and Mr. Boimler will have some good friends to thank, once we've brought them home." Tendi and Rutherford smiled ruefully back, and Carol turned back to the window, staring out into the blackness. "My daughter's out there somewhere. We'll find her, and Mr. Boimler too, I promise you that—even if we have to search the whole Alpha quadrant!"

~Present Day~

The pneumatic hiss and the footsteps were now just beyond the light from the doorway. "On your guard," Carol said under her breath. Both Tendi and Rutherford lifted their rifles. Another painful moment of near-silence passed, the steps growing closer and closer—and then, stepping out of the shadows and into the light of the regeneration hallway, the drone appeared.

It was…a human. Female. Average height, average build, with dark-gray skin and buzz-cut brown hair. Both eyes had been replaced with socket-like mechanical implants, but even despite the modifications, Carol Freeman could recognize her daughter on any ship in any quadrant of the galaxy.

"Beckett."

The drone stopped; her ocular implants twitched back and forth, as if she were studying them, and then she lifted her hand, a small lazer-like gadget flipping out of the wrist.

Tendi and Rutherford both took a step back and instinctively lifted their rifles. "Hold your fire!" the captain snapped at them. The drone didn't seem to notice, but instead, to their confusion, looked down at the screw. A moment later a red beam of light shot out of the lazer, vaporizing the screw.

The smoke faded away, and the drone lowered her hand. The lazer flipped away back inside the implants and then looked up, studying them again.

"You are not Borg." Her voice was raspy and locked into an unnerving tritone from some other implant in her throat, but it was definitely Mariner's. "Species 5618. Species 5618. Species 6113. You will be assimilated. Your biological and technological distinctiveness–"

"Mariner, stop!" Carol said, almost angry. "Try to remember who you are, you know us!"

"–will be added to our own. Your cultures will adapt to service ours." She paused, the ocular implants flickering over the woman's face. "Carol Freeman." The captain's face flooded with hope for a moment, before the drone continued, "Captain of the U.S.S. Cerritos. You and your crew will be assimilated. Resistance is futile." She pushed them abruptly aside and continued her walk down the hall.

"Uh– aren't you going to try to assimilate us?" Rutherford called after her. Tendi elbowed him hard. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Don't give her any ideas!"

"Assimilation is not this drone's assignment." The ship shook again, from the same rough direction that Mariner was headed. Tendi and Rutherford shared bewildered looks; the captain just stared, gaping, after her daughter's retreating back. After a year's worth of planning and searching, it seemed absurd that Beckett was suddenly, abruptly, right in front of her…vaporizing garbage. Carol wondered if she really had gone crazy during their months adrift in the tiny shuttlecraft, but this made even less sense than her guilt-fueled fever-dreams. What in the name of Q is going on here?

"Should we, you know–?" Tendi whispered, nodding to Mariner; the plan had anticipated being attacked once they encountered their former friends, and using their singular phaser shots to knock their captives unconscious. The captain looked up at the sleeping drones above them, and then grudgingly shook her head.

"Not here. If we start a confrontation they'll be on us like flies on Mugato dung." The floor shook again. "That firefight out there is going to end sooner or later; either way, we don't want to be on this Cube when it does. We need to find Ensign Boimler, now."

They hurried after Mariner, who seemed disinterested in their presence. "So, where are you going exactly?" Tendi asked as they left the regeneration hallway and began descending the stairs. The drone didn't answer, merely stopped briefly to vaporize another random piece of hardware that had been left on the floor. "Mariner?"

"She doesn't know her own name anymore," Rutherford reminded her. "Drones only respond to their Borg designations."

"Oh, right," Tendi remembered guiltily; she saw out of the corner of her eye that the captain's face had gone tight. "So then, uh, what's your designation?"

The drone lasered another piece of debris. "We are Excretus of Borg Two of Two, of Unimatrix 0061, Grid 18, Cube 1."

"Okay…" Tendi glanced back at Rutherford and the Captain.

But Rutherford had started to frown. "Hang on…Excretus of Borg. I could swear I've heard that somewhere before…"

Tendi gasped. "The simulation pods! From those tests we did two years ago, remember?! That was–"

"–Mr. Boimler's designation!" Carol realized. "Beckett–" she ran around in front of the drone and tried to stop her. "Do you know where Bradward Boimler is? Is he on this ship?"

Mariner pushed past her. "That name is irrelevant."

"Maybe to the Borg, but not to us! We don't want to leave here without Ensign Boimler; I need you to tell us where he is!"

"We are Excretus of Borg, Two of Two."

"Hold on– Captain, I think she is trying to tell us!" Rutherford realized.

"What?" Carol said, disbelieving, but Rutherford stepped forward, peering into Mariner's deadened eye-sockets.

"What is the assignment for Excretus of Borg, One of Two?"

The drone looked past him into the middle distance for a slight pause, and then turned forward again. "We are Excretus of Borg. Our assignment is to dispose of unassimilable material. This battle will conclude in approximately ten minutes." She began to walk again.

"Is that where you're heading?"

"Correct."

"Straight into a firefight," Tendi said weakly. "Sounds fun." Mariner continued walking, the greenish light from the hall at the bottom of the staircase casting her as an eerie silhouette. The shuddering of the ship was growing more violent; down below, in the hallway towards which Mariner was heading, they could hear footsteps starting to tramp in the direction of the battle. They wouldn't be alone for much longer.

"Mr. Rutherford." Sam looked over; the captain was staring after Mariner. "If you use the remote transporter pin to get Beckett back to the Modesto, do you think you can randomize the comm frequencies to stay in touch with us without getting the Borg ship's attention?"

"Probably, Captain—but I can't get a transporter lock on Boimler so long as the Borg nanoprobes are manipulating his DNA. Right now we've got a perfect lead; if I take Mariner back and put her in the Tank, you'll be searching blind."

Carol wavered. Rutherford had a point, of course, but… As the shock waves of a much stronger explosion than any previous jarred them all sideways, forcing them to cling to the stair railing to avoid falling over, she saw Beckett stumble to a knee, landing awkwardly crouched on the step below her before standing up again and continuing her methodical advance towards the battle. She'd watched Beckett run into battle many times, and it had always wrenched her inside despite knowing she would have done the same thing. But that Beckett had been able to take care of herself. This Beckett couldn't.

"Captain," Tendi said quietly, and she turned. Both of the young ensigns were watching her nervously, and Carol could guess why. If she told them to take Beckett back, they'd either have to mutiny against her, or risk leaving a friend behind.

"...A great woman once told me that there were three things to remember about being a starship captain: keep your shirt tucked in; go down with the ship…" She turned to watch her daughter's retreating back. "And never abandon a member of your crew." She steeled her nerve. "Mr. Boimler's one of our own, we're not leaving here without him. Follow Mariner—wherever the hell she's going."

It turned out that "wherever the hell Mariner was going" was to an empty bay near the outside of the ship; beyond the atmosphere-preserving force field the battle raged in full view, the green Borg tractor beam flooding the area with light as blasts crackled across the Akira's hull.

"I don't get it. Why are they attacking a random starship?" Tendi wondered aloud, approaching the force field and peering out at the fight. "That's not how the Borg usually operate."

"Maybe the starship attacked them," Rutherford suggested. Beside him, the Captain peered around at the bay, her brow creasing into a frown.

"Beck– Two of Two, what is this place?" she demanded, turning to look at the drone. "This can't be a shuttle bay, there are no ships."

"Negative. This is a reception bay."

"Reception? Of what?"

But the drone had no chance to answer, for the bay doors they had just walked through slid open again. Two lines of drones began to troop in, side-by-side, and lined up into rows in front of the force field. The three officers tensed, but none of the drones made any movements after lining up into their rows, with the exception of the Mariner-drone, who went to a panel on the wall and began to type a command into it.

Another explosion outside drew their attention, energy waves sparkling in a fractured net over the Akira. "Their shields are at fifteen percent, captain," Rutherford analyzed, tapping his ocular implant; there was another blast from the Borg Cube, and he corrected himself. "Ten percent."

"The battle will conclude in approximately four minutes," the Mariner-drone stated tonelessly, typing into the panel.

"Those poor people," Tendi said guiltily, looking out at the starship .

"There's nothing we can do," Rutherford comforted her.

"Rutherford's right; we need to focus," said Carol sharply. "Beckett, where is Boi– where is One of Two?"

"One of Two is in the reception bay."

"He's already here?" Carol looked around, but only saw more drones filing in; instead of all facing the front, a certain number of drones in each row were eerily turning to face left or right, creating a formation of concentric squares. "Check by row, quickly."

She and the ensigns quickly scanned the first few rows, but swiftly realized that this wasn't a good plan; the faces of the drones, pale and plated in black exoskeleton, seemed to fade into a blur. Even individual species differences had been so fully repressed that they were distinguishable only by a nose-ridge here or a pointed ear there; Mariner was slightly more identifiable due to her darker gray complexion, but not by much. "I can't find him anywhere," Tendi called, having determined that the drone she was looking at was, in fact, a female Klingon. Rutherford also shook his head, about halfway down a line.

Carol tried not to grind her teeth—the room was nearly full, and she could practically feel the clock ticking on the battle outside—and hurried to Mariner, who was shutting the panel she'd been typing into. "Beckett, honey," she said, trying to catch the drone's attention, but Mariner was doing an even better job of blatantly ignoring her now than she did as an individual. "Look, we're running out of time here; we need you to show us One of Two's location!"

Mariner turned heel and began to walk towards the back rows. "One of Two is in the reception bay."

"You've already told us that! We need more information!"

"Captain, she can't understand you like that!" Rutherford insisted, still checking drones near the center of the concentric squares. "Her brain is basically a computer at this point, a drone can't give you an output if you don't give them the right inpu–"

"She's not a computer, she's Beckett!" the captain snapped, grabbing hold of Mariner's shoulder and glaring ferociously into the drone's impassive face. "I raised her for eighteen years; I don't need a lecture from some ensign engineer on how my own daughter thinks!" Rutherford looked hurt, but Carol cut off any potential reply, taking her daughter by both shoulders. "Beckett, honey, I need you to dig deep, okay?! Try to remember who you are! Who your friends are!"

The drone stared blankly back at her. Carol searched her face.

"We are Excretus of Borg, Two of Two."

"I know," she groaned. "I'm sorry, Beckett, I know you don't want to leave without him, but–" There was another explosion from the starship , flooding the bay with a blast of orange light. "–but if you can't tell us where he is, right now, we won't have a choice!" But the drone just continued to stare back at her with the blank socket-like implants, the faint buzz of the lenses re-focusing the only sign that she was taking in her mother's face at all.

"We are Excretus of Borg, Two of Two."

Carol just about broke at that, either into crying or shouting she wasn't sure, but thankfully Tendi intervened. "Marin– um, Two of Two?" the Orion approached them; the Mariner-drone turned to her. "You said that you're from a set of two, right? So are these all 'Excretus of Borg?'"

"Incorrect. They are Digestus of Borg. They assimilate material. We are Excretus of Borg. We dispose of non-assimilable material."

"So– are you telling me you're all going to warp over to the starship once the battle's over? They'll bring back the victi– the assimilable material while you and One of Two vaporize everything else?"

"Correct."

"Oh no," Tendi breathed, her eyes widening. "Captain, we've got to get out of here!"

"Yes, Ensign, I know th–"

"You don't understand! Right now they don't have orders to attack us, but if we get beamed aboard the Akira with them, we'll become assimilable material!"

Carol's eyes snapped wide and she let go of her daughter's shoulders. "Dammit!" Her gaze flashed to the bay door, which had already shut behind the last drones; a moment later a green light above the door turned red. "Manual doors are locked. Beckett, I'm sorry but we're out of time; Rutherford, get us all back to the Modesto! Now!"

"Right!" He checked the remote transporter device and paled. "Uhh no can do, Captain!"

"What?! Why not?!"

"The transporter bay has a safeguard energy field around it, no transporter signals except Borg ones can get in or out! I can try to disable it–" He was cut off by the sudden clamping down of a mechanical hand on his shoulder as the centermost drone in the row broke formation.

"You seek to sabotage the transporter bay."

"What? No! I just–"

"You are no longer irrelevant." Rutherford's eyes flashed sideways as an injector device popped out of the drone's hand. "You will be assimilated. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to–"

A beam shot across the room, and the drone was blasted head-over-heels backwards away from Rutherford, hitting the back wall with a scraping mechanical thud. "Not today he won't!" Carol declared, her phaser-rifle leveled. Then: "Oh, shit!"

The drone she'd hit (who was trying—and failing—to stagger jerkily to its feet, spitting sparks from its mechanical joints) was very familiar despite the red laser-beam emanating from his facial implant. "You shot Boimler!" Tendi cried.

"Thank you, Ensign, I can see that!"

"At least we found him!" Rutherford gasped, scrambling to his feet. The drones seemed to be analyzing the injured Boimler, but they wouldn't be for long; already as Rutherford hurried to his captain's side, they were turning one by one from looking at the damaged drone to looking at the three intruders.

Carol took a step back, and then looked to the side as someone moved. Mariner strode quickly away from them, ignoring her mother's shout of her name and attempt to grab her arm. The other drones parted and then closed rank behind her. "Beckett! Dammit, get back here! Beckett!"

"Uhh Captain, I think we pissed them off!" Tendi interrupted, backing up towards the force field as one drone began to advance, and then another. Little red laser-lights were appearing over many of their eyes—and appearing as targets on the trio's chests.

Carol fired off another round, but it fizzled uselessly against an advancing drone's energy shield. "Dammit!" She threw the gun instead, knocking the drone back with a grunt, and then peered uselessly through the shifting crowd for a glimpse at her daughter, who was now crouching down beside the spasming Boimler-drone. "Anyone got any bright ideas?"

A blast of light emanated from behind them. "The starship's shields are down to three percent!" Rutherford panicked, looking over his shoulder. "One more hit and it's over, Captain, we'll be beamed aboard!"

"Damn, damn!" She could see her daughter and Mr. Boimler just a few yards away; they were so close! "Ensign Tendi, the force field!"

"Uh-!" Tendi poked the field behind her and yelped as it spat sparks, yanking her burnt hand away. "Still active, Captain!"

Carol gritted her teeth, her eyes flicking over the room, from drone face to drone face, to the force field at their backs and to the locked bay doors, so far away, and last of all to Beckett and Boimler, barely distinguishable from the other advancing drones. There had to be a way; they couldn't give into despair now, not when they'd come so far and were so close, not when her daughter was… her daughter was…!

"Captain, your orders!" Tendi's tense voice broke in, drawing her gaze. For a moment the two ensigns' faces seemed to float in front of her eyes, haloed by the crackle of the force field and the explosions of the battle behind them. Her daughter…was one of these people's best friends. Beckett would never have forgiven her mother for dragging them into this situation…but she'd have hated her even more for letting her friends and their brilliant invention be assimilated, where they would only be used to harm others.

Ship or no ship, she was a Starfleet captain. She had a duty to the Federation. No matter the cost.

Carol found her voice. "Ensign Rutherford, prepare to remote-detonate the Modesto on my mark. We can't let your work fall into the Borg's hands. "

"Captain–"

"I'm sorry. I led you both on this crazy mission, and now it's about to get you killed." Her eyes flashed across the room again to the drones that had once been her daughter, who seemed to be trying to repair the malfunctioning Mr. Boimler. If she knew her mother was there and had failed to save her, she didn't seem to care, and Carol was almost grateful for that. "I'm so sorry, to all of you."

Tendi and Rutherford shared a brief glance, and then nodded. "It's okay, Captain," Rutherford said shakily, taking another step back as he adjusted his collar where the pill was hidden. The force field hummed with electricity just behind him.

"Yeah," Tendi agreed, reaching out and gripping his free hand. "We knew the risks."

Carol nodded, swallowing, and unbuttoned her own collar. "On my mark." She took another step back. The drones advanced. The ship below them rumbled with the effort of charging another barrage. "Three. Two. One…"

And then a roar like a thousand jet engines flooded through the force field at their backs. All three stumbled forward and half-turned on instinct as a massive starship appeared out of warp right before their eyes, soaring in front of the Akira-class ship and absorbing the final shot from the Borg cube into its fresh shields. The tractor beam crackled and exploded as the new ship careened through it, the resulting shock wave sending the Cube rocking backwards; the three of them and the drones all staggered, many of the Borg falling over. "What in the hell–?!"

"Captain, look! It's the Cerritos!"

Rutherford was right. Carol gaped in open-mouthed disbelief as the Cerritos drifted into a pivot, letting loose a barrage of photon torpedoes. Two struck the Cube, throwing the officers sideways again into the wall and knocking over any drones who were still standing. A moment later her comm badge beeped on her chest.

"This is Acting-Captain Ransom of the Starship Cerritos to Carol Freeman; Captain, do you read me?!"

"Jack?!" She punched the badge, flabbergasted. "We read you, Cerritos, but how–"

"We got the Nobunaga's distress call; figured you'd get there even before we did! Captain, tell me you've got those two crazy kids and are off that Cube!"

"Negative, Jack; we're stuck inside a shielded Borg transporter bay and we can't get out!" Most of the drones were already getting to their feet; she could still spot Boimler and Mariner at the back of the room, but there was a ring of probe-bearing Borg drones between her and them. "Not to mention we're about to get assimilated!"

"Shaxs, target their shield generators!" Several more blasts rocketed through the void and struck the cube again; the force field shimmered and seemed to lose a layer.

Rutherford checked his remote transporter beam. "Transport is back online, Captain!"

"Ha- ha! Jack, remind me that I owe you one!"

"You can pay me back later; listen, Captain, we've got a lock on you three, but not Mariner and Boimler! Do you know where they are?"

"I've got 'em in eyesight, Jack, but there's a crowd of angry drones in our way. Beam Ensigns Tendi and Rutherf–" Her eyes suddenly shot wide. "No, belay that order! Mr. Rutherford!" His cybernetic eye flashed towards her even as he hefted his rifle again. "Can you reverse the signature for that remote transporter?! Put us wherever it is, not back on the Modesto?!"

"Sure, captain, but how–"

"Good, do it and give it here!"

Bewildered but too rushed to doubt, Rutherford tapped something into the watch and then handed it to her. Carol flicked the timer to five seconds and then looked up as Tendi fired her rifle, knocking back two drones; their compatriots stepped around them. "Captain, whatever you're doing, do it now!" Rutherford panicked, firing his own.

"Hold your horses, Rutherford, I've only got one shot at this! Jack, on my mark, beam us and anyone with us into the transporter bay of the shuttlecraft Modesto!"

"But we can beam you aboard the Cerr–"

"Just do what I told you!" She punched the timer and then, with a sucked-in breath and a prayer to whatever gods were listening, lobbed the device into the air. "Three! Two!"

"Captain, what are you doing?!" Tendi screamed, and then there was a fizzling noise, and the world phased into blue-and-white static.

And then, abruptly, they reappeared to see that the backs of the drones were in front of them—with only two exceptions. "One!" Carol bellowed, grabbing hold of Mariner and Boimler. "MARK!"

"Aye, Captain! Shaxs, fire at will!"

The world phased again, and the last thing that Carol saw before they vanished were two blazing red photon torpedoes, rocketing straight through the force field into the transporter bay.

For one blissful moment, there was no firefight, no torpedoes, no Borg cube—nothing, except the eerie feeling of disembodied consciousness.

And then their feet materialized onto the gritty metal flooring of the Modesto, and all five stumbled forward as the ship rocked forward in a shockwave. Tendi whipped around beside her, the younger woman's mouth falling open as she saw the billowing fire and debris pouring off the Borg cube. "What the..."

She didn't have the chance to say more before her legs were swept out from under her and she hit the ground with a yelp; above her, Mariner lunged for the transporter controls, but Carol tackled her to the ground. "Oh no you don't! I fought too hard for too long to get you back, Beckett! I'm not letting you transport back to that death ship now!"

The Mariner-drone apparently didn't think this was relevant, as she threw her mother off and dove for the controls again. Tendi scrambled to block her, and received a mechanized punch in the gut for her efforts. "Oof! Captain!"

"The vinculum must still be online!" Carol growled, pushing herself off the ground. "Activate the Tank before their whole ship goes down, we can't risk it sending out a self-destruct order!"

"Easier said than done!" Rutherford puffed, from where he was struggling to push away the Boimler-drone (who, despite his damage, was surprisingly strong from his implants), the nanoprobe-injector again whirring dangerously close to his jugular.

As the captain grabbed hold of Mariner's arms, Tendi squared up and roundhouse-kicked Boimler in the chest, sending him staggering off Rutherford and collapsing to the ground with another burst of sparks. "Sorry!" she called with a wince. "We're trying to help you, I promise!"

"If they'd just– quit– fighting us!" Carol grunted, trying to wrestle her daughter to the ground. "Come on, Beckett, try to think through those implants! You're not making deassimilating you any easier!"

At her words, Tendi saw, however faint, the slightest shift in the Mariner-drone's expression—or perhaps not a shift, but a brief flicker, a pause. "Uh, Captain–" she warned.

But it was too late. Mariner shook her mother off again and, instead of trying for the transporter controls again, punched Rutherford square in the face, breaking his nose with a spray of blood, and then leapt over him as he fell down with a shout. She rolled to a stop, yanked the semi-conscious Boimler-drone up by the neck with one hand, and with the other flipped out a nanoprobe-injector.

"Deassimilation imminent. Instituting failsafe measure 7-9-0001; creating secondary interlink network–"

"What's she doing?" Rutherford demanded, trying to staunch the bleeding from his nose.

"We'll figure that out later; just activate the Tank already!"

Mariner injected her probe into Boimler's neck, and Tendi, panicking, flicked her rifle to its lowest setting and fired at a control panel on the back wall just over the drone's heads. The weak photon blast struck the button just as Mariner dropped Boimler's twitching body to the ground, and blue light flooded through the Modesto's cabin, blindingly bright.

As a noise like the shriek of a million malfunctioning transporter beams split the air, forcing all five to clap their hands over their ears, and the drones in particular let out screeches of pain and collapsed, clutching at their heads. As another shock-wave buffeted the ship, Carol crawled towards the button panel, cringing. She pulled herself up the wall and slapped the button again, shrouding the Modesto in shadows.

Outside the front window, the Borg ship was still venting fireballs and debris into the void. The two drones were still curled up on the floor; as Carol knelt down next to Mariner, Tendi and Rutherford got to their feet, Tendi still with her rifle at the ready. But it wasn't necessary. As she watched, the Borg ship began to glow slightly, and then there was the brief, strange pulled-taffy effect as the Borg ship prepared to jump to warp. "They're…retreating."

A moment later there was a blast of light, and the Borg ship was gone. Both ensigns stood a moment in the silence, ignoring the sounds of the captain and their friends behind them, before Rutherford tapped his badge, still bleeding profusely from his broken nose. "This is the Modesto to the Cerritos; do you read me?"

There was a brief pause, and then a reply in the familiar voice of Dr. T'Ana. "This is the Cerritos; we read you, Modesto. Ransom's talking to the U.S.S. Nobunaga at the moment; you guys okay?"

"Uhh…"

Rutherford looked over, uncertain. Boimler was stirring and sitting up, as was Mariner, both looking worse for wear. The captain was helping the latter, supporting her by the shoulder. "Beckett, honey?" she urged, looking down into her daughter's face. "Can you hear me? Do you know who I am?"

The drone's ocular implants flickered back and forth, her brows furrowing uncomfortably around the metal disks as she studied her mother's face. Then she opened her mouth and croaked out an answer:

"M-Mom?"

Carol exhaled something halfway between a gasp and a sob, pulling Mariner into her arms. "Beckett, honey, thank god– I was so worried–"

"Captain Mom? W-what's going on?" And it was at these words that the captain suddenly froze and then pulled back, looking around in confusion—because Mariner, or at least, the Mariner in her arms, wasn't the only one who had spoken.

"What happened, where am we?" Mariner and Boimler said in perfect unison, looking around the Modesto in perfect sync. Carol's mouth fell open. Next to Rutherford, Tendi nervously clicked her own badge.

"Dr. T'Ana? This is Ensign Tend; we need a medical team over here right away. I think we've got a problem."

~Six Months Previous: San Francisco~

"Usually, you'd break a bottle of champagne to christen a new ship. But given the circumstances…"

Alonzo trailed off. Beside him his wife looked almost morosely over the shuttlecraft in the garage; Rutherford wiped the grease off his hands with a rag and crossed his arms, looking less like a Starfleet mechanic in his gray T-shirt than the racing junkie he only vaguely remembered being. "She might not be pretty, Captain, but she's fully operational. This isn't just a shuttlecraft anymore; she'll be able to go months in deep space without stopping for supplies or maintenance—and she's former-Starfleet, which means she's got some of the safest engineering in the galaxy."

The decommissioned Starfleet shuttle certainly looked worse for wear; Rutherford had done his best, but the damaged hull plating had had to be replaced with newer material, not to mention the controls inside, leading to a somewhat patchwork look. The letters MOD still stood out in bold on the side, the rest of the word having been blasted off in the fight that grounded the shuttle.

"So long as she gets us to wherever Beckett and Mr. Boimler are, she's perfect," Carol vowed. "The Tank's been installed?"

"Aye, Captain. Tendi and I put it in this morning."

"Good." She exhaled. "I guess this is it then. Tomorrow we head out." She glanced up at her husband, who squeezed her hand supportively even as his face looked troubled.

"So," Tendi said, trying to keep the mood at least moderately upbeat. "What are we going to call it?"

Rutherford shrugged. "Figured we'd just call it the Model-6, same as before." But Tendi's eyes had lit up with an idea.

"What if we called it the Modesto?"

Rutherford blinked, and then smiled, rubbing his chin. "You know, I kind of like that."

"As I recall, Mr. Boimler isn't very fond of his hometown," Carol pointed out. Tendi beamed.

"That's the point! He'll be so mad when we rescue him!"

When. Not if. Carol felt her chest swell up at that. "You know, Ensign, now that you put it that way—I think it's a perfect idea."

"The Modesto it is!" Rutherford declared, picking up a spraypaint can. Tendi clapped her hands and hurried over to the side with him to paint on the new name, while the older pair stayed behind.

"...Carol." The captain looked up at her husband; Alonzo's face was grave. "I didn't want to talk about this, but…before you head out there, I think we both need to say it out loud." He looked down at her. "Ex-Borg don't always have the easiest life after they deassimialte, and…they're not always the same. Even if you find them–"

"It doesn't matter if she's not the same Beckett she was before," Carol said bluntly. "Not to me. She's my daughter, I'll take as much of her back as I can get."

Alonzo gave a small smile. "I was hoping you'd say that." He kissed her cheek. "Be careful out there, 'Care. And bring our girl home."

Carol squeezed his hand back. "Don't worry Zo." She watched as Rutherford began to paint the ESTO in careful block letters on the side, and it felt like an act of hope—an act of resistance. "We won't give up on them…no matter what."

A/N: Sorry this took so long to post, I couldn't seem to get into a good flow with it. I'm not great at writing fight scenes, sorry.