Chapter 9

Flag Officer's log; stardate 58085.2: Our reinforcements have arrived. My three ship fleet is now increased to five ships with the addition of the Resistant and the Courageous. The Romulan and Reman forces have also arrived. We now have a sizable fleet to fight the Borg cube, if only we can find a way for three very different forces to work together.

A large fleet of ships came out of warp around the Romulan colony planet. They were almost all of Romulan design, though some were older models. They flew in two formations. One was Cmdr. Donatra's fleet, led by her flagship the Valdore. The other was the Reman fleet, smaller and older but still capable.

"There is a site for sore eyes," said Capt. Shelby.

"Speak for yourself," answered Hickensen. "I still see Romulan warbirds decloaking in my nightmares." Janeway looked at the young man. It must have been a surreal sight for him. Lt. Cmdr. Hickensen, a survivor of the original Orion's ambush, had good reason to view Romulans as enemies.

"Sorry, Commander," replied Shelby. "I wasn't referring to the Romulan ships, but to the two Defiant class ships, in particular the Resistant." Shelby turned to face Janeway, who was sitting in the captain's chair. "Admiral, requesting permission to disembark and retake command of my ship."

"Permission granted, Captain," answered Janeway. "You have been a great help to the Orion and to me personally, but now I need you in command of your own starship."

"Thank you, Admiral," replied Shelby as bowed her head and exited the bridge.

"She's eager to return," said Hickensen.

"You would be too, in her place," said Janeway. "She may also be eager to test her ship against the Borg. She had to sit helplessly in our last battle. Captains don't like being sidelined. Besides, the Defiant class ships were initially designed by Capt. Sisko to take on the Borg."

"And if there is a Defiant class ship that should test itself on the Borg it is the Resistant," said Hickensen.

"The Defiant class has already taken on the Borg," said Janeway. "The original Defiant fought in the Battle of Sector 001. It was damaged but recovered after the battle." Janeway herself had been lost in the Delta Quadrant during that battle and had only learned about it from reading the reports.

"I remember that," said Hickensen with a reflective look on his face. "I remember being scared that day. The Borg right above Earth!"

Janeway looked at Hickensen. "I don't recall you ever being assigned to any of the starships in that battle nor to Earth's defense forces."

Hickensen smiled back at Janeway. "I wasn't. I was living on Earth at the time, attending prep-school."

Janeway stared at him incredibly. Then she put on a stern face and lowered her voice. "Your making me feel old, Commander." Janeway had simply forgotten how young Mr. Hickensen was. "Commander, join me in my ready room. Mr. Thrim, you have the bridge."

Janeway stood from her chair and walked to the small room off the bridge that she had commandeered at as her office. Hickensen followed her in and asked, "What can I do for you, Admiral?"

Janeway sat in the chair behind the small desk. "I have been thinking a lot about what you said to me yesterday, and I have decided to keep my flag on the Orion."

"We are happy to have you on board, Admiral," replied Hickensen.

"I have also decided that naming a new captain for this ship is premature. We don't know the status of Capt. Lander, she may still be alive. Thus, I have decided as flag officer to take the responsibility of the captaincy upon myself. And as both captain and admiral, I will need to lean upon you, Mr. Hickensen to manage the details and to command this ship in battle. Are you ready such responsibility?"

"Yes, Admiral, I am," answered Hickensen in a formal tone.

"Good," said Janeway. "My need for your help will begin right away. In three hours, I and the other captains will beam down to the surface to meet with the Romulan and Reman military commanders. I want you to represent the Orion."

"Of course, Admiral."

"But I cannot have an under-ranked officer standing next to me."

"I don't understand, Admiral," said Hickensen, who lifted his hand as if to scratch his head then caught himself before he did so.

Janeway opened a draw in the desk and pulled out a rank pip. "At attention, Lieutenant Commander." Hickensen straighten as Janeway stood in front of him. She reached up to his collar and pulled off the hollow rank pip next to his two solid pips. "Mr. Hickensen, I hereby promote you to the full rank of commander." Janeway placed the solid rank pip in the place where the hollow one was before, now giving him three solid gold pips. "Congratulations, Commander."

"Thank you, Admiral," said Hickensen, a bit flustered. "But if this is just for show; to make me look good in front of the Romulans, then I must object."

"The timing may be for show," said Janeway. "But you've earned it, Commander." Janeway grabbed a data pad and handed it to Hickensen, so he could read it. "This is a request to Star Fleet Command for your promotion. It is signed by both Capt. Lander and Capt. Benteen. Attached are two letters of testimony on your behalf, one from Capt. Picard and another from Cmdr. Worf. Starfleet had approved your promotion and was merely waiting for our return."

"I see," said Hickensen. "Then I gratefully accept this promotion and honor." Janeway saw a smile of relief come across Hickensen's face. He finally possessed the rank for which his position as first officer called.

But then Cmdr. Hickensen dropped his head. "Is something wrong, Commander?" asked Janeway.

"No, well, yes; but that can't be helped right now. Unless you can magically retrieve the Orion's saucer and everyone on it." Hickensen looked up at Adm. Janeway. "Can I ask you: were there any other promotions that Starfleet had accepted?"

Janeway understood. "You want to know if Lander was going to be promoted to the rank of captain?"

"Yes, Admiral. I do."

"She was," said Janeway. "And her command of the Orion was going to be secured. I'm sorry, Commander. If she is still alive, then we will do everything we can to get her back."

"Thank you, Admiral."

Grant's hand slipped again as he tried to modify the inner workings of his phaser. With over two full days of hypervigilance, to say that Grant was feeling wore down was an understatement. If he didn't get some sleep soon, he would no longer be able to function. It was fortunate that Chef and his new Romulan friend had grabbed food and water, but their provisions were being depleted.

Grant dropped his tool. As he picked it up, Matthews leaned over and whispered, "Frank, you need to take a break."

"I'm fine, Chef."

"You're nearly falling asleep on your feet. You need some rest. Get some sleep, I will take the first shift."

"What about you?"

"I will sleep after you. Don't be the tough guy, Frank. You know your limits, and I know mine. I'm reaching the end too. We're no good to them if we can't function at our best."

"Hold on a second." Grant stood up from his work and faced the women. "How are you two progressing?"

"Got one done," said Ta'Sem. "Our weapons designer here is better than I thought."

Ens. Rikka Samae lifted the Romulan disruptor pistol. "We won't know how effective it will be until we test it on some drones." She waved the weapon around in the air.

Chef reached out his long arm and grabbed the Romulan weapon. "Careful! Let's not test it accidentally on one of us."

"Sorry," said the sheepish ensign. She gently set the weapon down. Grant laughed to himself. The young Bajoran woman was doing surprisingly well. She also seemed to be the one with the most energy. Grant couldn't tell whether her Bajoran physiology gave her the added endurance or if she had gotten some rest earlier.

"I wish I could say that we have had equal progress here," Grant held up his phaser. "A few more tries, and we should have it."

"We will modify our other disruptor," said Ta'Sem. "You had mentioned other confiscated weapons. Would we be able to retrieve them?"

"They are in the armory. And I think it is too dangerous to try that now. We could…"

There was a buzzing noise to Grant's left followed by a voice. "Please state the nature of the medical emergency." Rikka screamed and fired the disruptor at the suddenly appearing bald man. Her shot went wide and burned a hole in one of Melinda Vibee's posters. Chef once again grabbed the disruptor from Rikka. "What is the meaning of this? What could you possibly accomplish by shooting a hologram?"

"Easy, Doctor," said Grant. "You simply frighten her."

"Doctor?" asked Ta'Sem. "Your doctor is a hologram?"

"An Emergence Medical Hologram," answered the EMH. "I am activated in situations where the normal medical staff is unable to fulfill the medical needs of the ship."

"Isn't installing holographic projectors in personal quarters an invasion of privacy." Ta'Sem raised an eyebrow, which made her almost look Vulcan.

"There are holographic emitters throughout the ship," said the EMH. "Do you wish me to quote the percentage of medical emergencies that occur in the personal quarters of crewmen?"

"Doctor!" interrupted Grant. "What are you doing here?"

"Wouldn't you need the main computer online to activate such a hologram?" asked Ta'Sem. "How is it that you are even active?"

"Sure, I will answer your questions, even though you didn't answer mine, which my programing demands me to ask even if I know fully well that there is no medical emergency."

"Doctor!" said Grant trying to bypass the hologram's digression.

The EMH let out a sigh. "The answer to both your questions is the same. The Captain has gained access to the main computer and sent me to guide you to her, even after I tried to tell her that I am a doctor not a combadge."

"Adm. Janeway or Capt. Lander?" asked Chef.

"Capt. Lander. She has modified her combadge to speak directly into my matrix."

"You can hear the Captain?" asked Grant. The EMH nodded yes. "Can we hear her? Can you let us talk to her?"

"Of course." The EMH tapped his holographic combadge. "Captain, your crew wishes to speak to you."

"This Capt. Lander. Report. Who is there; what is your status; is anyone injured?"

"This is Lt. Cmdr. Ulysses Francis Grant. I have here Ens. Rikka Samae, Sub-Lt. Ta'Sem of the Romulan military, and civilian Richard Matthews. All four of us are fine. There has been no sign of any others."

"Chef!? What are you doing here?"

"It was my responsibility to help evacuate the mess hall." Chef passed for a bit. "Captain, what was the last meal I served you?"

"A roast beef sandwich with au jus dipping sauce and a spinach salad with French dressing."

"Thank you, Captain," said Chef, apparently satisfied that it really was Capt. Lander.

"What is your status, Captain? And where are you?" asked Grant.

"No time for that," said the Captain's voice. "Follow the doctor's instructions, he will lead you around the Borg patrols."

"How?" asked Rikka.

"I have access to internal sensors," explained the Captain. "I can see you and the Borg drones on my work console here. I will guide the doctor, and he will guide you. Once you're here, I can tell you more."

"Okay, Captain, we are on our way," said Grant. "Everyone is to follow the Doctor and stay quiet. Ta'Sem, hand me the modified disruptor."

Ta'Sem held the disruptor close to her chest. "Why? I have more training in this weapon than you."

"Because I outrank you Sub-Lieutenant, and you are on a Starfleet ship. Our ship, our rules."

Ta'Sem looked at Chef, who gave her a nod. She reluctantly gave up the disruptor, but promptly picked up the second disruptor. Grant was aware that the weapon maybe ineffective against Borg, but it would still do considerable damage to him. Realizing that he would have to show trust to earn trust, Grant deliberately turned his defenseless back to the Romulan woman. "Let's go, Doctor."

The holographic doctor led the way out of Melinda Vibee's quarters and through the corridors. Frequently he stopped to let a Borg patrol pass ahead, or sometimes he had them turn around and go down a different path. Once he even told them to run back the way they came. It was for Grant a nerve-racking experience.

"There's another Borg patrol coming," said Seven.

"Doctor, go back two corridors. Your current route is not safe." Lindsey looked at the internal sensor console which displayed her four crewmen in yellow and the Borg drones in green. "This is like the most evil game of Pac-Man ever."

"I am not familiar with this 'Pac-Man'," said Seven.

"Oh, um. It was a very popular early computerized game in Earth's twentieth century. You controlled a character called Pac-Man and had to avoid four ghosts trying to kill you."

"I think I understand the similarities," said Seven.

"One of my engineers enjoys making holodeck programs. His most recent one is a twentieth century arcade."

"He sounds a lot like Tom Paris."

"Doctor, take the next left," said Lindsey into her combadge. "Who is Tom Paris?" asked Lindsey, returning to Seven.

"Another Borg patrol," said Seven, and Lindsey gave the appropriate command to the EMH. Seven continued, "Tom Paris was Voyager's helmsman. He also loved creating holodeck programing and all things twentieth century Earth."

"We will have to arrange a meeting, if we survive this. Doctor, go right."

"He would enjoy that, as well as your 'arcade program.' Commander, if you can get them to this corridor, they can take the Jefferies tubes right into sick bay."

"That is what I am trying to do. Doctor, stop! Wait a minute." Lindsey watched as a pair of Borg drones walked through a corridor intersection. "Doctor, go now; straight ahead and fast." The four yellow signatures moved quickly through the corridor intersection, just ahead of another Borg patrol. Lindsey gave a sigh of relief. "Doctor, two sections down there is a Jefferies tube access hatch on the left. Take them there." Lindsey continued to direct the EMH until they were just outside of sick bay. "Seven, open the hatch."

Seven on Nine opened the waist high hatch, and out came the team: first the EMH, then Chef followed by the Romulan Sub-Lieutenant and the Bajoran Ensign, and lastly Lt. Cmdr. Grant. "Ens. Annika Hansen, glad to see that you are all right," said Frank.

"I am pleased that you survived as well, Lieutenant Commander."

"How long can we stay hidden in sick bay?" asked Frank.

"For as long as we want," said Lindsey. "Or we can go where ever we want on this saucer. Miss. Hansen here has developed a way to hide from the Borg."

"Really?" said the Romulan woman.

"How?" asked the Bajoran Ensign.

"We can explain as we go," said Lindsey. She pointed to Frank. "Seven, Doctor, start with Lt. Cmdr. Grant. I want him camouflaged from the Borg as soon as possible."

"You ready, Admiral?"

"No," answered Janeway, but she straightened her formal admiral's uniform anyway and put on a stern and determined look. Henry realized that he would never win a card game against Adm. Janeway's poker face. He had a lot to learn about diplomacy.

"Romulan guards entered into the large meeting room, which Henry had been told was the colony's central court room. He could tell by the variety of guards that members of each Romulan faction was represented. Indeed, he saw Proconsul Tomalak representing Praetor Tal'Aura, Rudal representing the warhawks, and Cmdr. Donatra herself leading the military. From another door came the Remans. The only one that Henry recognized was Colonel Xiomek. Both groups were accompanied by various ship captains and military commanders. The Starfleet contingent consisted of Adm. Janeway, Capts. Benteen, Jenner, Shelby, and Barto, and lastly the newly promoted Cmdr. Hickensen.

Donatra allowed Tomalak to take the central position, which was clearly a painful submission on her part. Henry took that as a good sign that the Romulans were at least united against the Borg. Donatra did not however allow Rudal to sit between her and Tomalak. He instead sat on Tomalak's left. Henry decided they would not be able to solve all Romulan infighting at one meeting.

Once everyone was at their spots, Tomalak invited everyone to be seated with his gently outstretched arms, and everyone took their seat at the same time. A polite and courteous tone to start the meeting. Then Tomalak, acting as the presider of the meeting, spoke. "Welcome everyone to this meeting. Thank you for coming. We are here to discuss a matter of grave importance not just to the survival of the Romulan…" Tomalak paused as though in pain. "…and Reman empires, but to the whole Alpha Quadrant."

"If I may, Proconsul," interrupted Donatra. "I think we may dispense with the pleasantries. This is not political meeting, nor a discussion about power sharing or territory claims. This is a council of war. You were once a Romulan Commander, Tomalak, before you were a politician. I believe you know how to proceed accordingly."

"I would also appreciate a direct discussion on the battle ahead," said Col. Xiomek.

Tomalak looked at Janeway, who merely replied, "It's why we're here."

"Very well, Commander," said Tomalak to Donatra. "Let us get to the heart of the matter. Adm. Janeway, I believe we should start with your assessment of the Borg threat."

"We engage a single Borg cube," said Janeway. "We inflicted damage upon the cube; however, the Borg can quickly regenerate their damaged sections."

"Your damage will not be so easily regenerated," said Rudal with a sneer.

"No, it won't. But I have not forgotten it. Nor have forgotten the man you lost," said Janeway to Rudal. She then returned her attention to the group. "We cannot be satisfied in the mere damaging of the cube. In our next attack we need to destroy the cube."

"One ship verse three fleets," said one of the Romulan captains. "That should not be so hard."

Janeway dropped her voice into her ominous tone that Henry had found particularly effective. "Do not underestimate even a single Borg cube. There was only one cube at the Battle of Wolf 359. An entire fleet was destroyed there. And there was only one cube at the Battle of Sector 001. If it hadn't been for Capt. Jean Luc Picard and his knowledge of the Borg, Earth would have been lost."

"From all that I have heard about the Borg, I must agree with Adm. Janeway," said Donatra. "We should not underestimate this threat."

"I believe there is only one question here," said Xiomek. "We have three fleets here, Reman, Romulan, and Starfleet. Who should lead?"

There was a silence in the room. Henry knew that the Reman Colonel had asked the right question. Three groups who despised each other were attempting to engage in a join military assault. Henry couldn't count the number of things that could go wrong.

Not surprisingly Rudal of the warhawk party spoke first. "The largest and grandest military force here is the Romulan fleet. I suggest that we command the battle."

"The Reman fleet is not much smaller than the Romulan fleet," said Col. Xiomek. "And I have seen the enemy for myself."

"Those relicts that you call starships don't count for half our fleet," said a female Romulan captain.

"You forget during all those years of slavery, it was the Remans who crewed your great fleets. We know as much about these ships as you do, maybe more," replied Xiomek. "Our fleet maybe old, but it is more than capable."

"Perhaps we will see in battle," countered the Romulan captain. Both Xiomek and the Romulan woman stood up.

Before Tomalak could call for order, Donatra stood up and commanded her officer to sit back down. After things had become silent again Donatra lowered herself and spoke in a gentle voice. "The size and firepower of the Romulan fleet will be a large factor in the coming battle."

"You have not yet seen our firepower," said Xiomek.

Henry was wondering when Janeway would enter the conversation. He was not surprised when she chose this moment. "The number of ships will not be the determining factor in this battle and the Borg cannot be stopped by mere firepower. They will adapt." Janeway extended her hands to encompass everyone in the room. "Victory will be through coordination and cleverness."

"I suppose that you are suggesting that you lead the attack," said Rudal.

"I have the most experience with the Borg. I know better than anyone in all three of these fleets the Borg and their weaknesses. However, I do not believe that we will ever be able to settle upon a single leader for all three fleets. Instead, I propose we divide our forces into three attack wings: one Romulan, one Reman, and one Starfleet. Each will have its own leader who will pledge his or herself to the good of the entire fleet."

"Your Starfleet attack wing will be quite small," said Tomalak. "Unless you plan on bringing more ships from Federation Space." At that comment Rudal almost stood up to object, but Janeway spoke first.

"No, I do not plan on bringing more ships. Five ships are all that will come," said Janeway. "I envision the Romulan and Reman wings providing the firepower, while the Starfleet wing provides precision strikes. As I said, I know more about the Borg than anyone else here. My fleet maybe smaller, but it may be just as effective."

"Do you not mean four ships, Admiral," said Rudal. "Your flagship was destroyed."

"Admiral?" spoke Henry. Janeway gave him a nod of permission, so he spoke, "The Orion was designed for such a separation. Indeed, the loss of the saucer is crippling, but we have compensated, adapted if you will. We have changed from a Galaxy class battleship to a smaller, faster, more maneuverable assault ship. The Orion will hold its own."

"Tactics over firepower," added Janeway. "I myself will continue to command the Federation fleet from the Orion. If there are no more questions about the capabilities of my fleet, I would like to continue to a discussion of tactics. I have a plan in mind that I would like to bring forward."

Xiomek nodded his approval. Donatra gave a nod to Tomalak, who said, "Very well. Proceed, Admiral." Henry allowed himself to relax as he began to help Janeway in her presentation.

"How long before these nanoprobes begin working?" asked Frank

"They already are," said Miss. Hansen. "They will need time to spread through your blood stream and assimilate your blood cells." Frank shuttered at the word assimilate.

"Some good cardio exercise would quicken the pace, Commander," said the EMH. "A little increase in blood flow will spread the nanoprobes more quickly."

"Alright, Doc, I'll go hit the gym."

"Not right now," said Lindsey. "There is another crewwoman on this ship. We need to find her."

"Just one other?" asked Frank. "I can believe we were that effective in our evacuation."

"We weren't," said Lindsey. "Seventy-seven people, including myself, were on this saucer when the stardrive departed."

"Seventy-seven!" said Rikka Samae. "There six of us here, and one other you say. What about the other seventy?"

"I can't find them on the internal sensors," said Lindsey. "They are likely dead or worse, Ensign." Rikka Samae's face dropped, and Frank knew that she was thinking of her sister.

"Then we better recover this last crewwoman before she suffers the same fate," said Frank, not wanting to think about those he lost anymore that Samae. "Let me know where she is, and I'll get her. I would like to wait for Chef's nanoprobe injection, so we can go together."

"Not necessary," said Lindsey. "You and I will go."

"Commander, that is not wise!" said Hansen. The Borg woman paused a bit to readjust her tone of voice as she spoke to her superior. "What I mean to say is that you and Cmdr. Grant are the only senior officers here. You should not both go into danger."

"I agree, Lindsey," said Chef.

"Well, you're not Starfleet, Richard," said Lindsey. "And you, Ensign, don't out rank me." Lindsey was rarely so blunt. Whatever reasoning was behind Lindsey's decision, she clearly did not want to explain it to anyone. Frank knew that, and Chef got the message. It was Hansen that didn't see it.

"Commander, I do not believe…"

"It is not up to discussion, Seven. That's final. If Lt. Cmdr. Grant and I do not return, you are in command. Is that clear, Ensign?"

"Clear, Commander."

"Good. Frank, you're with me." Lindsey crawled into the Jefferies tube, and Frank followed. Once they were out in the corridors, Lindsey spoke again. "Time for that cardio the doctor spoke of." Both she and Frank went down the corridors at a good jog.

After a bit, Lindsey stopped him, and pointed down the hallway. Two drones were walking towards them. "Let's see if Seven's disguise worked. Cover me." Frank hugged the corner while Lindsey walked down the middle of the hallway, right towards the drones. Frank held both his phaser and disruptor in a ready position as Lindsey and the drones came closer together. They were almost about to collide when the two drones split and let Lindsey walk right between them. Frank let out his breath. Lindsey waved at him. He hostler his weapons, stepped out, and walked towards the drones, matching their pace. They moved to the side, and Frank walked passed them.

"Wow," said Frank quietly.

"I know," replied Lindsey. "Let's find our crewwoman."

"Who is it?" asked Frank.

"I'm not sure," said Lindsey in a causal voice, which told Frank that she was hiding something.

"Lindsey, I know you, and I know when you're hiding something."

"I doubt that."

"Want to bet? I know that you and Henry are in some sort of relationship." Lindsey stopped and faced Frank in surprise. "You can't hide things from your friends, Lindsey; they always find out. Which is why I know something is up."

Lindsey nodded, "And that is why I wanted you to come, and not the others." Lindsey began leading Frank again.

"Can you explain further?"

"The crewwoman we are looking for is a Vulcan female."

"Lt. T'Sel." said Frank.

"No, I saw T'Sel evacuate to the stardrive."

"Then who…?" asked Frank, knowing that T'Sel was the only Vulcan on the Orion.

"Someone from my recent past."

"Tell me."

"I would rather not say." But Lindsey stopped walking and raised first her three end fingers and then separately her index finger. Frank's eyes widen as he registered the three and the one. "Now do you understand why I wanted you?"

Frank nodded. He was one of the few officers on the Orion that actually knew the full story of Lindsey's disappearance two years ago. She had been kidnapped by a secret Federation shadow organization called Section 31. Frank did not know what it meant if Section 31 was on the Orion, but it was certainly cause for concern.

Lindsey and Frank came to the corridor outside the science lab. Two drones stood guard at the door. Lindsey waved Frank on, and both of them walked between the drones and into the lab. Once the door was closed behind them, Lindsey spoke. "Clear the room. I will check the internal sensors and find our mystery passenger. Last I looked she was somewhere in this area."

"Captain," said Frank with concern. Lindsey came to him and Frank pointed to a hole cut into the wall. "I don't think she is in the area. I think she is in the lab." Frank started pivoting, taking in the whole dark room and looking for some sign of a living being. Lindsey, using her computer access raised the lights. Then Frank saw the hidden figure. "Halt!" Frank pointed his phaser at the moving shadow.

A female figure in a blue science uniform slowly stood up, arms in the air. At first Frank thought it was Lt. T'Sel, but then he could see that this was a different, younger, Vulcan woman. He had never seen her before, but apparently Lindsey had. "Agent Ta'Prim! Don't move!" Lindsey walked up to the Vulcan woman. "What are you doing here on this ship."

The Vulcan woman slowly lowered her arms slightly, but still kept them away from the phaser clipped to her belt. "Capt. Lander, I wish you wouldn't use my name."

"He's read in," said Lindsey with a nod of her head to Frank. "And you are hardly in a position to make demands."

"We are on the same side, Captain."

"That remains to be seen," replied Lindsey. "So, let me ask again. What the hell is Section 31 doing on my ship?!"

"It is not obvious?" asked Ta'Prim with a raise of her eyebrow. "I told you that this Borg threat was not a Romulan trick. I am here to deal with the very real Borg threat."

"That is my job," said Lindsey. "Section 31 can stay out of it."

"While you have proven yourself competent, Captain," said Ta'Prim. "Starfleet often lacks the ability to do what must be done. Jean Luc Picard once had a chance to eliminate the Collective, but his ethics stood in his way. I am here to make sure that doesn't happen again."

"They are just as crazy as you said, Captain," said Frank.

Ta'Prim looked at Frank. "Commander, this is not crazy; it is logical." Frank had no desire to argue logic with a Vulcan. Even if he was right, he knew that he would not likely be able to convince a Vulcan who had clearly made up her mind.

"How were you trying to do that?" asked Lindsey. Ta'Prim hesitated, Lindsey continued. "You said we were on the same side, did you not? I may have a stronger ethic than you, but our objective is the same. We need to defeat the Borg."

Ta'Prim spoke as if quoting, "'Our objectives, maybe. Our means, never,' are those not the words you once spoke to me? If I tell you my plans, then you will try to stop me."

"And did you not accuse me of illogically attempting to predict the future?" asked Lindsey. "Now who is predicting the future. We are in a different situation, facing a different threat." Frank began to wonder at what previous time Lindsey and Ta'Prim had held this debate.

"Let us test this with a hypothetical situation," said Ta'Prim. "What if I told you that I had a way to wipe out the entire Collective; would you help me implement it?"

"I might," said Lindsey.

"Would that not be genocide, Captain; the greatest sin a Starfleet officer could commit?" said Ta'Prim, playing her own devil's advocate.

"The Borg is not just a race or a tribe or a social group," answered Lindsey. "It is a Collective with a single mind. And that mind seems hellbent on assimilating humanity and the Federation. It has shown no signs of diplomacy. Negotiation with the Borg is futile. Sadly, the only way to deal with them is to eliminate the threat.

"And, might I add," continued Lindsey. "I am aware of the decision of Capt. Picard to which you referred. It was not the Collective that Picard decided not to attack; but a liberated drone, Hugh I believe was his name. Picard did not ethically believe he could sacrifice an individual. Picard was later ordered by Adm. Nechayev to never pass on such an opportunity again. I consider those my orders as well."

Ta'Prim raised her eyebrow. "Not the answer I expected from you, Captain."

Lindsey indicated to Frank to lower his weapon. "Time to stop being hypothetical, Ta'Prim. Do you have a means to eliminate the Collective?"

"Unfortunately, no," answered Ta'Prim. "I returned to the Orion to retrieve Ens. Annika Hansen's reports on the Borg." Ta'Prim lowered her arms. "I had to cut my way through the wall in order to get in here. How did you get passed the guards?"

"Nanoprobe disguises," said Lindsey. "Our life signatures read as Borg. They think we're drones."

Ta'Prim in a slow, non-threatening manner, grabbed a triquarter and did a sweep over both Lindsey and Frank. "Fascinating. I presume that you have access to Miss. Hansen's research through your main computer."

"Don't you?" asked Lindsey. "I would have thought you would have found a way in."

"It is true that I came here to access your computer again, and I may have succeeded except that Janeway locked out everyone but herself. How did you gain access?"

"No one locks me out of my own computer. But my methods are irrelevant. What is relevant is that I not only have access to the main computer and Miss. Hansen's information, but I also have access to Miss. Hansen herself. She is in sickbay with the rest of the crew we were able to rescue." Lindsey stepped forward, "I need all the minds I can get in order to best the Borg. Which means that I need you, Ta'Prim. But I cannot allow you to act behind my back. So, I ask you this, are you willing to set aside your Section 31 methods and work under the constrictions of a Starfleet captain?"

"Will I have access to Miss. Hansen's reports?"

"You can read them, but you cannot have a copy for Section 31 to keep."

"Very well," said Ta'Prim. "We will stand a greater chance working together, even if it means compromising on my part. It is logical."

"Good…" Lindsey looked at Ta'Prim's single rank pip. "…Ensign. Let's get you some Borg nanoprobes for your blood stream."

"O'Hara, I just promised a room full of Romulans and Remans that the Orion would be combat ready. Am I bluffing, or do I hold the right cards?"

Alivia looked up at the newly promoted Cmdr. Hickensen. "We have overhauled the impulse engines as you requested and pushed their red line much higher. They should be able to handle the increase in energy you requested, but not forever. They were simply not designed to put out that much thrust."

"And the phasers."

"We are still working on them," said Alivia as she picked up a phaser emitter with a blacken end. "In our tests we've been burning out the emitters after only three firings. We have some ideas, and I think we should have them working by the end of the day." Alivia lost her grip on the emitter and it fell on her foot. She gave a brief yelp followed by a colorful array of violent Gaelic swear words in her Irish brogue.

When she looked up, she saw Cmdr. Hickensen's concerned face. He was waving away her subordinates which meant he was preparing for a private conversation. "Alivia, are you alright?"

"My foot is fine. It's a hazard of being an engineer."

"That is not what I meant," said Hickensen. "How are you handling your husband's situation?"

A whole new pain threatened to flood Alivia's mind, and tears began to form on her eyes. "Don't, Commander, don't ask me that."

"I have to, Alivia. I need to know that my crew is alright. If you need me to, I can call Vlad. He could take over for you."

"No! I can do my job."

"Alivia, you need a break," said Hickensen. "You have been working nonstop since the Borg battle, barely stopping to eat, drink, or sleep. You can't keep going like this."

"I have to keep going," pleaded Alivia. "If I stop, then I will think of Frank; and if I think of him, I will start crying; and I don't know if I could stop." As though to prove her point Alivia's eyes began to stream with tears.

Cmdr. Hickensen reached out and embraced Alivia in a hug. "Alivia, it's time for a break. Come with me." Perhaps Alivia was exhausted in her grief or perhaps it was Hickensen's compassionate voice, but whatever it was Alivia found herself following the Commander almost like she was hypnotized. Cmdr. Hickensen lead her into a transporter room and dismissed the petty officer at the controls. He then sat her down on the steps of the transporter platform and sat beside her. "Alivia, talk to me. If not me, then one of the counselors. You can't bottle it up."

Alivia broke down. "I don't know how to do this. I have only been married to him for a few weeks, but now I can't imagine my life without him. Every time I think of Frank, I feel myself shut down. I can't think of him dead, and I certainly can't think of him as part of the Borg Collective; I can't. If I do, it paralyzes me. I can hardly breath." As if to demonstrate, Alivia began to breathe more heavily. Her heart felt like it was pounding against her rib cage. Her hands were shaking.

"Alivia, how much sleep have you gotten since the attack?"

"Two or three hours fitful hours."

"Alivia," Cmdr. Hickensen shook his head. "I have to relieve you of duty. I can't have an unhealthy individual running Engineering."

"If leave my work, then all I have is my haunted nightmares," said Alivia. "I feel like it would be better knowing for sure what has happened to him. It can't be worse than imaging all the horrible possibilities."

"I'm sure that it would both be better and far worse," said Hickensen with a sigh. Alivia searched the young man in front of her. It was only for a second, but Alivia had seen through his perpetual poker face. Henry Hickensen was not immune to the same feelings that Alivia was experiencing.

"How do you do it, Commander?"

"Do what?"

"Handle the fear, the pain, the torture of not knowing."

"I hope for the best," he answered. "Alivia, I can't pretend to know what you're going through. All those people on the saucer are my crewmates, my responsibility. But Frank is your husband. I have nobody on that saucer that compares to that."

"Not even the Captain?" asked Alivia as she wiped her eyes and looked at Hickensen. "I know you love her."

Hickensen's poker face collapsed. "What do you know?" he asked with sudden anger.

"All I know is that you and the Captain are very very close. I don't know the particulars of your relationship, but I know there is something."

"Does the whole ship know?"

"No," said Alivia. "Only those people that know you and Capt. Lander well. Frank knew, and I'm pretty sure Selina suspects."

This time it was Hickensen's turn to swear. He stood up and walked around the transporter room. Alivia watched him pace. The man was holding it together, but just barely. Finally, he turned to Alivia. "I do love her, more than anyone in my life, except perhaps my parents. You're right, not knowing is terrible. But it is also what is keeping me hopeful." Hickensen sat down again. "Lindsey choose to remain on that saucer. She would never abandon her crew, not without a fight. She did this once before, on the first Orion; sacrificing herself to save her crew. And that gives me hope."

"How?"

"Because she wasn't trapped or caught, but willingly entered the fray. She will be able to plan and scheme. She may be willing to risk her life, but she won't throw away it away needlessly. She will fight to preserve her life for as long as she can. And that is reason for you to hope as well. Lindsey and Frank are cut from the same cloth. Both consider the crew their primary responsibility; both are smart and inventive; and both have gotten themselves out of tight situations before." Hickensen put his arm on Alivia's shoulder. "We need to hold on to our hope at least long enough for us to do something about it. Adm. Janeway has already promised to attempt a rescue if it doesn't hinder our primary objective."

"You're right," said Alivia as she stood up. "I need to envision Frank alive and well. And I need to do what I can to help." She looked down at Hickensen. "That includes doing my job."

Hickensen smiled as he stood. "I am glad to hear that. But not in your current state. Otherwise it may be the Orion that is damage in your next slip, not just your foot. Don't report back to Engineering for another eight hours. I expect you to get some sleep, and I will make sure you do. I may even send a nurse with a tranquilizer."

"That won't be necessary, Commander. I am heading to my quarters now." Alivia walked towards the transporter room door but stopped and turned. "Thank you, Commander, thank you."

Alivia left the transporter room and walked to her temporary quarters. Once she arrived, she laid down on her bed roll. For a moment she stared at the ceiling. Then she closed her eyes and imagined Frank; cornered, fighting, but alive. Before she knew it, sleep had found her.

Ta'Prim followed behind Capt. Lander. Behind her was Lt. Cmdr. Grant. She was aware that his weapon was pointed at her as much as it was pointed at anyone else.

Capt. Lander led the group safely passed the Borg patrols, through the Jefferies tubes, and into sick bay; where 'Ensign' Ta'Prim was introduced to the rest of the survivors as a crewman of the Hercules, who was on the Orion at the time of the attack. Most of them bought the explanation. The Romulan woman looked upon Ta'Prim suspiciously, but that might have been an emotional reaction to seeing a Vulcan cousin.

Ta'Prim underwent the nanoprobe infusion. After which Ta'Prim worked alongside Ens. Annika Hansen on their plans. Capt. Lander informed the Borg woman that Ta'Prim did not have the appropriate clearance to work directly with the Federation's data on the Borg, thus inhibiting Ta'Prim's access to the main computer.

What Capt. Lander didn't know is that Ta'Prim already had access to the data. She had broken through the computer's lock down twenty-six minutes and forty-three seconds prior to Lander finding her. And with that data she had already formed a plan of her own; a plan to eradicate the Borg forever.