Chapter 10

Flag Officer's log; stardate 58086.9: After hours of tactical discussions with the Romulans and Remans, we finally have a unified plan of assault. I only hope that all three factions with be able to stick to the plan.

Janeway rubbed her temple a bit and reached for her coffee thermos. Cmdr. Hickensen reached out and stopped her. "Careful, Commander, it is not wise to get between me and my coffee."

Hickensen withdrew his hand. "Sorry, Admiral. But I do think that sleep will be more beneficial for you than caffeine."

"After all those meetings, I would have to agree with you," said Janeway. "I have seen my fair share of combat, but I am no war strategist. I have to admit that Cmdr. Donatra and Col. Xiomek have me beat in that department. They and their captains went through my battle plan with a fine-toothed comb. It was exhausting work."

"Did you agree on a leave time?"

"All three fleets will depart at 0300 hours."

"That gives you four hours to sleep."

Janeway looked up at Hickensen. "You are insistent, aren't you, Commander?"

"You would not be the first captain I've told to get some sleep. Lin…Capt. Lander can be incredibly stubborn. If she could carry the entire ship on her back, she would do it."

"I know," said Janeway. "It's one of the reasons I put her in charge of the Orion. Very well, Commander. You win. I will get some sleep. Dismissed."

"Tell me again. How do we regain communications with the fleet?" Despite not having an engineer left on the team, Lindsey was pleased with her officers.

It was Seven who answered. "The best place to access communication is from the bridge."

"We should not have too much trouble reaching it with our nanoprobe disguises," said Frank.

"What about the drones on the bridge?" asked Chef.

"There is sure to be a drone or two," said Seven. "But more is unlikely."

"It's the bridge; the most important place on the ship," said Ens. Rikka.

"You forget, a Borg ship has no bridge. The Collective controls the ship like it controls its drones," said Ta'Sem. "Am I right?"

"More or less," said Seven. "The Borg will have most likely centralized bridge control into the Collective; which will prove difficult as we attempt to access communications."

"But can you do it?" asked Lindsey.

"I believe I can," said Seven.

"Good, then this is what we must do," said Lindsey. Then she leaned forward and looked at her team: a Borg woman, a Bajoran scientist, two human fighters, a Romulan soldier, and a Vulcan spy. "Now tell what we can do."

Ta'Prim and Seven both raised their eyebrows. Ta'Sem looked eager. Frank and Chef both nodded understandingly. It was Rikka that didn't get it. "What do you mean, Captain?"

"Ensign, we are right next an extremely dangerous Borg cube, and it has no idea that we are here." Lindsey stood for emphasis and spoke to the whole room. "Soon a Romulan-Reman-Starfleet attack force will be arriving to fight it. How can we use our unique position to turn the tide of that battle in our favor?"

"If we were on the bridge, perhaps we could access the Orion's weapons," suggested Frank.

"That would be difficult," said Seven. "It would also not go unnoticed. We would be revealed to the Borg."

"We can't stay invisible forever," said Lindsey. "At some point we will have to drop our cloak and fight."

"I appreciate the analogy, Captain," said the Romulan Ta'Sem.

"However," continued Lindsey. "I don't think the Orion's weapons will make much difference in the fight. I was thinking of something more impactful."

"I have a suggestion," said Seven. Lindsey gave her a wave of permission. "It's an idea I have been thinking about for some time. Before they were assimilated, my parents studied the Borg for years. They were able to slip on board a cube undetected and observe them. I have often thought how things would have been different if they would have attacked rather than merely observed."

"That's why you developed this disguising technology," said Ta'Sem. "To accomplish what you parents did not."

"I did not know what type of mission my technology would be used for," answered Seven. "But the thought had crossed my mind."

"What are you proposing now?" asked Lindsey.

"That we plan a techno-virus into the Borg. I have developed one that will disrupt the links between individual drones and the Collective. But it has to be downloaded into the cube's vinculum."

"The what?" asked Rikka.

"The Borg vinculum. It is the processing device at the core of every Borg vessel. It connects the drones to the Collective. If it were infected the drones would lose contact with the Collective and with each other."

"They would lose their ability to coordinate in a fight," said Frank. Lindsey smiled. Frank always thought as tactician.

"They would also lose their ability to adapt, making our weapons far more effective," added Seven.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," inserted Chef. "But did you say this vinculum is on board the Borg cube?"

"Yes," answered Seven. "I would have to board the Cube, get to the vinculum, and insert the virus."

"You?" asked Ta'Sem. "Why you?"

"I am the only one here with sufficient knowledge on the Borg. It would be far more efficient and more likely to succeed if I do it myself. I am not sure I could talk anyone else through the process."

"Would this virus effect the whole Collective?" asked Ta'Prim. Lindsey looked over at the Vulcan woman. She had agreed with Agent Ta'Prim on idea of wiping out the whole Collective, but Lindsey wasn't sure that she really would want to do it.

"No," said Seven. "There have been several attempts to do so in recent years. Species 6339 successfully infected a Borg vinculum as did the Brunali. The Collective has undoubtedly discovered their weakness and adapted. The possibility of my virus traveling beyond this cube is infinitesimal."

"Is it at all possible to modify the virus to be carried beyond this cube?" asked Ta'Prim.

Seven looked at the Vulcan woman, and Lindsey thought she saw some wounded pride in Seven's face. "There is no reasonable possibility of that. If there were, I would have been working on it."

"How can you be sure?" asked Ta'Prim.

"I am Borg," said Seven defensively. "I know the Collective better than anyone. It is highly unlikely that this virus or any virus would spread to another Borg vessel." When Ta'Prim conceded the argument, Seven continued. "This virus is also unlikely to be permanent. The Collective may very well be able to adapt to the virus and take back control of its vinculum and its drones."

"So, we will have to time it right when the fleet arrives for maximum effect," said Frank.

"Precisely," agreed Seven.

"You said the Borg drones would be severed from the Collective," said Rikka suddenly filled with energy. "Is there any chance that we could liberate any; rescue them?"

"That would require great energies on our part," said Seven. "We would have to disable some of their Borg implants before the Collective could reestablish contact. In addition, most drones have grown accustomed to the Collective and would struggle to live without it." Seven dropped her head a bit. "I speak from personal experience."

"What about the recently assimilated? Could we save them?" Rikka was on her feet. Lindsey realized that a crewmember who was close to Rikka must have been assimilated.

Seven considered the Ensign's question. "The more recent the assimilation, the easier it would be for a drone to embrace individuality again. But we would have to act quickly to disable their neural transceivers before the Collective could reestablish their link. It would be difficult given our priories."

Rikka was about to argue further when Frank reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "If there is anything we can do to rescue Nolean we will do it, Ensign."

Lindsey felt her stomach turn as she recognized the name. She could hardly imagine the pain the young woman was experiencing. Rikka Samae had lost her sister to the Borg. "I agree. If we are able to save any of our assimilated crew we should try. But first we must focus on our current objectives."

"Which brings me back to my original question," said Chef. "How do you plan on getting on board the Borg cube?"

"Transporters are offline," reported Ta'Sem. "I already tried."

"Even if we could fix them, the Borg would notice a transporter signal," added Ta'Prim. "If they are indeed hunting us, then I believe such use of the ship's transporters would not be considered irrelevant."

"I would not be using the Orion's transporters. I will use the Borg cube's."

"How?" asked Lindsey.

"I will have to access the neural transceiver of a drone. There I can find the frequency on which this cube communicates. I can then use that frequency to call the cube and have it transport me on board."

"Will a drone really allow you to do that?" asked Ta'Sem.

"It will be unlikely to resist if I do it while it is regenerating."

"Catch them sleeping. Works for me," replied Ta'Sem. Lindsey shuttered a bit at the Romulan's cold words. But somehow Lindsey thought it was just a façade the woman was putting on.

"How will you get back?" asked Chef. Lindsey had the same question, and she could tell that Frank wanted to ask it as well.

Seven looked a bit uncomfortable. "I have not yet figured that out. Once I install the virus, the Borg will lose cohesion and will likely not be able to transport me back."

"At that point we could just use the Orion's transporters, or another ship in the fleet," suggested Frank.

"The difficulty is that my life signature will appear as Borg," said Seven. "It will not be possible to distinguish me from any other drone."

"We could give you an emergency transporter armband," said Ens. Rikka. "We use them to maintain transporter locks in difficult environments. Any Starfleet transporter should be able to lock on to them. If you keep them inactive until you have accomplished your objective, the Borg should not be able to locate the foreign technology."

"An excellent idea," replied Seven. "However, there is no guarantee they will be able to transmit inside a Borg cube. I will have to go deep into the cube in order to find the vinculum."

"In the chaos of the disconnected drones, it should be easy to return to a less shielded location," said Chef.

"On the contrary," said Seven. "When the drones are disconnected from the Collective, they will begin to act as individuals, and will be forced to rely their own senses."

"They will be able to see you with their own eyes and recognize that you are not a drone," finished Frank.

"Correct," agreed Seven.

"It sounds to me that it would be extremely dangerous for you on the cube?" said Lindsey.

"Yes, Commander. But I am willing to take the risk."

"Not alone, you won't," replied Lindsey. "You will be taking someone with combat experience with you."

"That would be me, I suppose," said Frank.

"No, Frank, I need you here," said Lindsey. She turned to Chef. "Richard, you are no longer a Starfleet officer, so I can't order you over there, but…"

"I'll do it," said Chef bluntly.

"Okay," replied Lindsey gratefully. "These plans are good, but they could be better. Let's get to work."

Henry watched as Adm. Janeway took her seat on the bridge. The viewscreen displayed the fleet, but in two of its corners was displayed Cmdr. Donatra and Col. Xiomek, both of whom were on the bridge of their flagships.

"Adm. Janeway, the Romulan fleet is in formation. The course is laid in, and we are ready for warp," said Donatra.

"The Reman fleet is also ready, Admiral," added Xiomek.

"The Federation force is ready. We are beginning the countdown," said Janeway. A countdown appeared on the top center of the viewscreen. Janeway asked that her communication be muted and turned to Henry. "Commander, is the Orion ready?"

"The phaser modifications are nearly complete. All other systems are fully functioning. Your flagship is ready and at your command, Admiral."

"Good," said Janeway.

"Admiral, the Lakota, the Hercules, the Resistant, and the Courageous all report that they are ready for battle," reported Thrim from the tactical station.

"Excellent," stated Janeway. The countdown passed twenty seconds. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to battle. Commander, command of the bridge is yours."

"Thank you, Admiral," said Henry. "Helm, go to warp 7 on my mark." Henry raised his hand. The countdown reached ticked off the final five seconds. Henry pointed forward and said, "Engage."

It was quiet in sick bay. Ta'Sem looked up from her work on the disruptors. Capt. Lander and the Vulcan woman were quietly working on the phasers. The rest of the team had split up to work on other objectives.

Ta'Sem returned her eyes to the disruptor in her hand, but she kept her ears alert. Ta'Sem was suspicious of the suddenly appearing Vulcan. And she could tell that neither the Captain nor Cmdr. Grant trusted the woman. There was more to her story than what was told. Ta'Sem had memorized the entire crew of the Orion and most of the significant members of the other two ships, but she did not recall an Ens. Ta'Prim.

Cmdr. Grant and Richard entered sick bay, each with a sack over their shoulders. "We come bearing gifts."

"There's an expression on Romulus," said Ta'Sem as she rose from her work. "Never trust humans bearing gifts."

"I think you will enjoy this," said Grant as he unloaded a number of Romulan disruptor pistols and rifles. Richard likewise revealed his package of Federation phasers.

Ta'Sem picked up one of the rifles and shouldered it. "Very nice." She was pleased to see none of the Starfleet officers became nervous. She had earned their trust. "It will take some time to modify these to make them effective against the Borg."

"Then you better get to work," said Lander. She turned to Richard. "Chef, why don't you check on Hansen and Rikka. If they are finished, then they should begin working on finding a way to transport you and Hansen to the cube."

Ta'Sem felt a shudder in her spine. She wasn't sure why. It wasn't like she was the one going on the dangerous mission to the Borg vessel. Her eyes fell on Richard, who caught her stare. Ta'Sem spoke immediately to cover up her concern for Richard. "If our weapons designer is not needed, perhaps you can send her here. We could use her help with these disruptors."

Lander gave a confused look towards Richard, who replied. "She means Ens. Rikka."

"Oh, I see," said Lander, still confused. "That would be fine. Richard, go with Hansen and send Rikka to us. Frank, may I have a word with you?"

As Richard left the room, and Lander and Grant were talking, Ta'Sem took her opportunity. She continued to work on the disruptors but kept her eyes fixed on Ta'Prim, until the Vulcan noticed. "Can I help you, Sub-Lieutenant?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Ta'Sem in a kind voice. "It is just that I have never met a Vulcan before. I feel that this is a rare opportunity. We are, after all, related from afar."

"Indeed," said Ta'Prim. "Prior to this mission, I have never met a Romulan."

"Well, Ensign, it is my pleasure to meet you," said Ta'Sem still using a kind voice.

"And I would find our meeting to be an intriguing event, if there were not more pressing matters to which we should attend."

"Of course," replied Ta'Sem. "Remind me again, what you job is on the Hercules?"

"I work in the science lab."

"What is your specialty?"

"I do not see how that is relevant."

"We need to know each other's strengths," said Ta'Sem. "Ens. Rikka Samae, it turns out, has a knack for biochemistry. She made a firebomb out of Benizite alcohol."

"I am a biologist," said Ta'Prim. "I was trying to learn all I could about Borg anatomy."

"Really. Why were you on the Orion?"

"I was trying to access Ens. Hansen's research on the Borg. I did not realize that it was considered classified material."

"That's a good story," said Ta'Sem. Ta'Prim didn't respond. Apparently, the Vulcan woman wasn't going to be baited. There was no logical reason to respond, Ta'Sem supposed. "The thing of it is, I don't believe it. And neither does Capt. Lander nor Cmdr. Grant."

"I am afraid you have me at a loss, Sub-Lieutenant. I do not know to what you are referring."

"You expect me to believe that you are a Starfleet ensign who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time?"

Ta'Prim gave Ta'Sem a long calculating look. "And you expect me to believe that you are simply a member of the Romulan military?"

Ta'Sem resisted a smile. Vulcans were capable of a bit of spy talk. But before the conversation could continue, Cmdr. Grant came up to Ta'Prim and began to work with her on the phasers. Ta'Sem returned to her work on the disruptors but kept her eye on Ta'Prim.

Chef arrived at the location where Rikka and Hansen were supposed to be. He climbed in the Jefferies tube, which was quite uncomfortable for a man his size. He called out. "Ens. Rikka, Ens. Hansen, are you finished?"

"Not yet," said Ens. Rikka from a deck down. Chef peered down a vertical shaft and saw her wiggling on her back down the Jefferies tube. "Okay, I'm in position!" she shouted.

"Cut the Borg circuitry on my mark," came a voice from further down the tube. "Now."

Chef climbed down just in time to see Rikka cut the wires protruding from the greenish glowing Borg thing. "Got it!"

"The rerouting plate, now!"

Rikka obeyed immediately and jabbed a circuit plate next to the Borg tech. The Borg wiring reached out and connected to the plate. "Wow, that is creepy," said Chef.

"Autonomous regeneration sequencers," said Rikka. "Or that's what Hansen calls them. "

Ens. Annika Hansen climbed down to join them. "They function to counteract resistance."

"But we're not resisting," said Samae. "We are rerouting. We give them something else to connect to. This plate merely sends the wiring back to the Borg device, while maintaining a complete circuit. We are hoping the Borg will not notice."

"Retaking the ship bit by bit," added Chef.

"This will only work for systems the Borg consider irrelevant," said Hansen as she leaned over Rikka's work. "We will have to wait until I plant my virus before we attempt to take back major systems." Hansen pulled back from the Borg device. "This should work. We show have access to the ship's sensors."

"Ship's sensors?" asked Chef. "I didn't think we needed those."

"The Captain wants to see what is out there," said Hansen. "And I thought it would be good for Ens. Rikka practice on some Borg tech. Once I am on the cube, it will be up to her to free the Orion's systems from the Borg."

"Oh, the joy," said Rikka sarcastically. "I have enough of this crawling around and digging through Borg tech," said Rikka as the trio came out of the tube. "This is engineers' work."

"We do not have any engineers," responded Hansen.

"I've noticed," replied Rikka.

"So, we have access to external sensors?" asked Chef.

"That is yet to be seen," said Hansen. "We must check our work back at sick bay. Have you accomplished your task?"

"Grant and I have acquired additional weapons. Ta'Sem, Ta'Prim, and Grant are working adapting them to the Borg."

"I can help with that," said Hansen.

"No," replied Richard. "The Captain wants you to begin your work on getting to the Borg cube. Ens. Rikka is to go back to sick bay, check the sensors and help Ta'Sem with the disruptors."

"Great, more engineering work," said Samae. "I know my way back to sick bay. Good luck."

"I am Borg. Luck is irrelevant," responded Hansen. Chef saw an ever so slight smile on her face. The dry and straight forward woman did have a sense of humor after all.

Rikka left for sick bay, while Hansen led Chef down the corridors. They eventually ended up outside a cargo bay. "Why are we here?"

"The Borg will have likely set up their regeneration alcoves here," answered Hansen. "The cargo bay has plenty of room and access to the ship's power grid."

The doors slide open to reveal a green lit room with row upon row of Borg technology. Chef grunted, "They ejected the cargo."

"It was all irrelevant," said Hansen.

"Irrelevant to them," said Chef with a disgusted voice.

"Is there something you will miss?"

"Yeah. I kept a fair amount of my food stuffs in here, as well as a few bottles of brandy that I was saving for a special occasion." Chef looked at the drones standing in their alcoves. "Do you miss it, regeneration I mean?"

Hansen nodded, "It is an efficient means of renewing one's energy. In fact, my remaining Borg implants still require regeneration."

Chef was suddenly concerned. "How long can you go without regenerating?"

"I can go for days with just normal human sleep, but eventually my Borg implants will lose their efficiency. I have a modified alcove in my quarters, but dare not return to it, as the Borg will have undoubtfully have found it. I am fine for now."

"You will let me or the Captain know if your performance suffers, right?"

"Yes, I will."

Satisfied, Chef looked down the row of Borg drones regenerating. "Which one?"

Hansen walked passed a few drones then stopped in front of one. "This one. He has several hours left in his cycle. We should be able to do our work without disturbing him."

"Admiral, we have located the Borg cube at maximum sensor range," reported Lt. Cmdr. Thrim.

"Send the coordinates to navigation. Helm, lay in an intercept course," ordered Henry.

"Alert the fleet, and send our information to Donatra and Xiomek," added Adm. Janeway. "Make sure all ships in the attack force are battle ready."

"Hickensen to O'Hara, are the phaser modifications complete?"

"Phasers are ready as requested," replied O'Hara's voice over combadge.

"This Cmdr. Hickensen to all crew," said Henry in a ship wide broadcast. "The Borg cube has been located. Red alert; all hands to battle stations."

"Welcome back, Ensign. We have some weapon designing to work on," said Ta'Sem as Samae returned to sick bay.

"I'll be right with you, Sub-Lieutenant," Rikka was surprisingly getting use to the nickname the Romulan woman had given her. "But first I want to check the sensors."

"You have access to the external sensors?" asked the Captain.

"We are about to find out, Captain," said Samae as she stood in front of the console. "Okay, here we go; full access to the Orion's sensors."

"What are we looking at," asked Ta'Sem as she and the Captain leaned over Samae's shoulders. Grant and Ta'Prim stood nearby listening intently.

"Well, here's the Borg cube," said Samae as a live image of the cube appeared. "There is nothing else in visible range." The image of the cube suddenly extended a green energy beam on the Orion. The Orion shook. "That is a tractor beam."

The Orion shook again then settled into a steady motion. "We're moving," said the Captain. "Why are we moving?"

"It is something we did?" asked Grant, stepping forward so he could see. "Can they tell that we are accessing the sensors?"

"Doubtful," said the Captain. "Ensign, focus the sensors forward in the direction we are traveling. Is there anything out there?"

"Focusing sensors," Samae looked at the screen. "Captain, there is something out there. A lot of something; starships. They're still out of visual range, but more details are coming."

"Those look like Romulan ships," said Ta'Sem. "This is probably the combined fleets of Donatra and the Remans."

"How fast are we traveling?" asked Grant.

"We are at warp 9.5," said Samae.

"Time to intercept!" demanded the Captain.

"Umm," Samae looked up in alarm. "Three hours."

"Three hours!" said the Captain. "We need to move faster. We need to get Seven on that cube, and we need to get to the bridge."

"Ready when you are, Captain," said Samae. She looked up from the console. She saw the Captain and Ta'Sem right next to her and Grant a few steps away. "Where's Ens. Ta'Prim?"

"Frank!" shouted the Captain.

"On it!"

Both of them ran out of the room. Ta'Sem said something in the Romulan language that sounded coarse and violent. Samae felt lost. "What's happening?"

Despite her reassurances to Matthews, Seven could feel the stress that lack of regeneration was having on her implants. Her ability to multitask was weakening, but if she focused only on the task at hand, then she could still function. And that task was figuring out the transmission frequency between the cube and the sleeping drone that she was working on.

It was fortunate that Matthews was with her. Borg drones came in and out of the cargo hold frequently. Seven did not have the luxury to watch it happen. But every time the cargo hold door opened, Matthews would calmly glance back and analyze the threat. Seven could tell that he was a veteran of combat, and that in a dangerous situation he had an ability to set aside all other concerns. Seven found Matthews' presence and alertness calming; allowing her to focus on her work.

Seven disassembled part of the implants on the drone's back. Then she exposed the neural transceiver fixed to its spine. A minute of scanning with a triquarter and Seven had what she came for.

"You got it?" asked Matthews.

"Yes. I just need a few minutes to reassemble this drone's implants. It is best not to leave any sign of our work."

"Sounds good," replied Matthews.

Seven had just begun when she heard the door open again. She ignored it, until Matthews stood up and said, "Ens. Ta'Prim, what are you…"

Matthews made a sudden movement then fell like dead weight on the floor. Seven turned around and saw a Vulcan woman holding a phaser. The orange beam came out of the weapon and hit Seven in the chest, and her vision went black.

Lindsey was running down the corridors at a full sprint. She was aware that she was moving faster than any drone would and that her actions might be noticeable by the Collective. But she feared that whatever Ta'Prim might be doing might be more noticeable. What if the misguided Section 31 agent blew their cover?

Frank was only a few steps behind Lindsey. "Captain, where are we going?"

"Cargo hold. That's where I last saw Chef and Seven on the sensors. I would wager that is where Ta'Prim is." Lindsey found the cargo hold's double doors and ran through. Once inside she saw the limp bodies of Seven of Nine and Chef. There working on a regenerating Borg drone was Ta'Prim. "Ta'Prim, stop!"

Ta'Prim looked back at Lindsey then quickly tried to finish what she was doing. Lindsey saw her transferring something from a triquarter into the drone. Unable to stop her Lindsey switch her phaser to kill and fired at the Borg drone. The particle beam burned a hole in the drone's chest, and it fell forward, dead.

"Why did you do that?" said Ta'Prim in a noticeably restrained voice.

"Drop the triquarter, now!" commanded Lindsey. Frank circled to Lindsey's left to get a clearer shot as Ta'Prim dropped her triquarter. "What were you doing?"

"I was killing the Borg; all of them. Inserting a techovirus that would spread throughout the Collective. You told me yourself that you were not objecting to such action."

"What did you do to them?" Lindsey pointed to Seven and Chef.

"They are stunned, nothing more."

"Step away from them," said Lindsey. Ta'Prim complied. "Computer, activate the EMH."

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency," asked the EMH as he arrived.

"Two stunned crewman," reported Lindsey. "I want to know their status. Frank, get the EMH a med kit."

Frank did as ordered, while the EMH took the pulse of the two stunned crewmen. Once he did a scan with a medical triquarter he pronounced, "They are fine. It will be a while before they awaken."

"Can you revive them now?"

"Yes, I could."

"Then do it. Get them back to sick bay. I need them at full compacity. Even if you have to give them a boast of cordrazine. I need them fully functional."

"That is not advisable," objected the EMH.

"Doctor, hundreds or thousands of lives are in the balance. Their mission is critical."

"Very well." The EMH used a hypospray on Chef, then on Seven. Both of them awoke but seemed groggy.

"Doctor, take Hansen back to sick bay. Frank, help Chef."

"What about Ta'Prim?" asked Frank.

"I will deal with her." Frank and the EMH helped the two recovering crewmen out of the cargo hold. Lindsey, still aiming the phaser at Ta'Prim, gave her orders. "Move: out of the cargo hold and to the science lab." Ta'Prim obeyed and walked in front of Lindsey. When they arrived, Lindsey pointed to a chair, "Sit!"

Ta'Prim obeyed. "You should not have stopped me. The triquarter is still in the cargo hold. We can still go back and finish the job."

"What job? What were you doing? And why could you not tell me about it?"

"Despite what you told me, I did not believe that you would approve a course of action that would wipe out the entire Collective," said Ta'Prim.

"What was on that triquarter?"

"A technovirus that would kill every Borg drone connected to the Collective."

"Where did you get it?"

"Section 31 designed it," answered Ta'Prim. "It is a better developed version of what the Enterprise crew originally made. That coupled with some information on Borg neutral transceivers I acquired from Hansen's database, allowed me to insert it into the Collective from a single drone."

"You heard Hansen. She said that the Borg have adapted to such attacks."

"That is her opinion."

"Yes, but it's a good opinion!" said Lindsey. "Arguably there is no greater expert on the Borg in the entire Federation than Ens. Annika Hansen. Who in Section 31 has greater knowledge? Where can you go for a greater or even equal opinion?"

"There is no one," replied Ta'Prim. "But we can only speculate about the Borg, and speculation is not certain."

"When all we can do is speculate, is it not logical to adhere to the opinion of the greatest expert?"

"Yes, that is logical. But the potential benefit of my actions was enough to make it the logical choice," countered Ta'Prim.

"But the consequences negate the potential benefit," argued Lindsey. It was hard not to become irritated. But she had to control her emotions if she was going to argue logic with a Vulcan. "If your virus failed, the Collective would notice. The Collective would be on the defensive, and we would lose the opportunity to disable this cube."

"The destruction of the whole Collective must be our ultimate goal," said Ta'Prim. Lindsey thought she could see a hint of annoyance in the Vulcan.

"Perhaps," countered Lindsey. "But it is not logical to pursue an ultimate yet unreachable goal at the expense of a nearer and obtainable goal."

"It had to attempted," answered Ta'Prim.

Lindsey lost her patience. "Ta'Prim! This is not like you! It's not logical! You…you… you gambled!" Lindsey waved her arms in frustration. "We have a solid plan, and you nearly threw it away from something you knew would likely not work. Look at me and tell me that you were acting logically." Ta'Prim looked down and was silent. "Look at me, Ta'Prim! Answer me! What has come over you? What has caused you to abandon logic?"

"I hated them!" shouted Ta'Prim, coming to her feet in a sudden outburst of rage. Lindsey took three steps back as she saw the rage in her eyes. Lindsey would be lying if she ever told someone that she wasn't terrified in that moment. Ta'Prim's entire body shook with emotion.

"Sit down, Ta'Prim," said Lindsey in her calmest voice. She needed to calm the enraged Vulcan. "Please sit down." Ta'Prim was shaking as she lowered herself into her seat. "Stay there a moment." Lindsey ducked into the science officer's lab and came out with a lamp. She set it on a low table.

"What is this?!" asked Ta'Prim.

"This is my science officer, Lt. T'Sel's, meditation lamp. I am sure she will not mind us borrowing it."

"What are you doing?"

Lindsey forced herself to relax. Then she lit the lamp. "Fire: one of nature's most destructive forces, yet here it is, a tool to be tamed and used."

"You, a human, are going to lead me in a Vulcan meditation!" snapped Ta'Prim.

"Shut up and look at the flame, Ta'Prim." said Lindsey sternly without raising her voice. Ta'Prim stared at the flame. "Breathe in, breathe out. Now, tell me: Why do you hate the Borg? What did they do to you?"

Ta'Prim took a deep breath. "My parents." Ta'Prim took another breath. "Lander, what do you know of Vulcan mating practices?"

Lindsey was taken aback by the seeming unrelated question. "I was informed when I took command of the Orion that Vulcans have a strong cultural tradition of returning to Vulcan every seven years to be with their spouse. If a Vulcan crewman requests leave for those purposes, I was to grant it if at all possible."

"It is not a cultural tradition," said Ta'Prim. "It is a biology necessity. Every seven years a mature Vulcan must mate. If they do not, they begin to experience what we have come to call the 'pon farr,' loosely translated 'blood fever.' In such a state Vulcans begin to lose their ability to control their emotions. The condition may even prove fatal as it could disintegrate their mind. My father was approaching his seven year period. My mother was a science officer on Melbourne. She had just received permission to go on leave and be with my father."

Lindsey felt the crushing weight of sorrow as she knew where Ta'Prim was going with this story. "The Melbourne?"

"Yes, the Melbourne. My mother's leave was canceled when the Melbourne was put on red alert and ordered to rendezvous with a battle fleet at Sector Wolf 359. In the subsequent battle with a Borg cube, the Melbourne was destroyed, and my mother perished on the ship."

"Ta'Prim, I'm so sorry."

"If that was all, then I would not be as I am," said Ta'Prim. "My mother signed up for Starfleet. She knew the risks, and she died defending the Federation. But my father…" Ta'Prim took another deep breath. "My father was crushed. He loved my mother. His relatives and even my older brothers tried to persuade him to take another mate. It would be logical. But he refused. Instead he tried to overcome the pon farr through meditation. It can be done. Many of the Kolinahr masters do it. Some are even celibate, never taking a mate. But my father never reached Kolinahr; he never had full mastery of his emotions. And with the death of my mother, he was grieved."

Anger returned to Ta'Prim's face. "He was fool! He should have listened. I was twenty-one years old, and I was living with my father on Vulcan." Ta'Prim stared at Lindsey with an intensity she had never seen before. "I wanted to stay with him and help him. I was with him as he slowly lost control. At first it was a snap of anger. Then it turned into nights of weeping. It wasn't until the day he struck me in rage that my brothers came and forced me to leave. My last memory of my father was of him in a berserk rage! He had lost his mind, his dignity, and his very self! He died five days later.

"So, you see, Lander!" Ta'Prim rose to her feet again. "The Borg have taken everything from me. They took my mother! They took my father! And now they have taken my logic! They have destroyed me!" Ta'Prim sat down suddenly and put her hands to her face. Lindsey's eyes opened wide with the realization that Ta'Prim was crying. "I shouldn't be like this. I am Vulcan. I shouldn't have these emotions. All I want to do is make them pay, to make them feel as I feel. But it is not illogical. I don't know what to do."

"I do," said Lindsey in a calm voice. "I know what you need to do, Ta'Prim." Ta'Prim removed her hands and looked at Lindsey. Lindsey would never forget the tear soak face of the weeping Vulcan woman as long as she lived. "You need to leave Section 31. They know all about you, and they are preying on your emotions, using them to achieve their goals. Staying with them will destroy you. You need to go back to Vulcan. There are people there that can help you; Vulcans who can help you retrieve your logic."

"That is logical," was all that Ta'Prim could say.

Lindsey stood up. "But, unfortunately, I cannot bring you to Vulcan now. I have to deal with the Borg here in Romulan space. And I need everyone I can get. We have less than three hours before we intercept the combined assault force of the Romulans, Remans, and Starfleet." Lindsey reached out her hand to Ta'Prim. "Can you get a hold of yourself and give me five hours of emotion-free logic? Or do I need to lock you in the brig?'

Ta'Prim wiped her eyes and accepted Lindsey's outstretched hand. She straighten her uniform and collected herself. "Yes, I can hold out for a while longer."

"Good. We have work to do, crewman."

Ta'Sem reassembled the disruptor rifle. "Another one done."

"Good," said Rikka. "And I am finished with the transporter armbands." She strapped it onto Richard Matthews. He shook his head. "Too tight?"

"No, Ensign. I'm still a little groggy from being stunned and then quickly awakened."

"As am I," said Ens. Hansen in a clearly annoyed voice.

"I merely following orders," said the holographic doctor.

"I don't blame you, Doctor," said Richard. "I'm just a little perturbed."

Ta'Sem could hardly blame him. The truth was that Ta'Sem partly blamed herself for Richard's misfortune. She knew something was off about Ta'Prim, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She was trying to keep an eye on the Vulcan, but then she became distracted, and in that moment Ta'Prim gave them all the slip.

Ta'Sem walked up to Richard. "You ready for your mission?"

"Ready as I am going to be. This transporter armband should help get us back." Richard pointed to the device strapped to his shoulder. Ta'Sem looked dubiously at the small piece of Starfleet tech. She reached down and lifted the leg on her uniform and pulled something from an ankle strap. "A concealed weapon?" asked Richard.

"No," said Ta'Sem. She held the small sculpture in front of Richard. "It's Val'Annara, the Romulan goddess of luck. I carry her around with me." Ta'Sem put the statuette into Richard's hands. "You're going to need her more I will."

Richard reluctantly accepted. "You do realize that I do not adhere to any Romulan religion."

"Please take it. I would feel better if you had it. You can give it back to me once you've returned safely."

"Okay. I'll take it," Richard slide it inside his shirt pocket. "Anything else?"

Ta'Sem and Richard were interrupted when Lander walked into sickbay with Ta'Prim trailing behind her. The change in the Vulcan woman was striking. She looked like she had been crying. Whatever Lander had said had raddled Ta'Prim. If the young unimposing human woman was capable of making a Vulcan cry, then Capt. Lander had just risen very high in Ta'Sem's respect.

"Status report!" barked Lander.

"We are still at warp, but we won't be for long," said Rikka. "In seventy minutes, we will intercept the fleet."

"I was able to get the Borg transporter frequency," said Hansen. "Before I was interrupted." The Borg woman gave an unkind look towards Ta'Prim but continued anyway. "Matthews and I can beam over to the cube as soon as we drop out of warp."

"We have reengineered enough phasers and disruptors for all of us to have one of each," reported Ta'Sem.

Good. We'll need them," said Lander. "Seven and Chef, get in position. Transport to the cube as soon as we drop out of warp. Frank, how's your tactical training?"

"Sufficient. I maintain my training, but I am nowhere near as good as Thrim or Hickensen." said Grant. "I don't know why Starfleet thinks security and operation a ship's tactical station are similar skill sets."

"You're the best we've got," said Lander.

"Captain, why do you ask about tactical training?" asked Ta'Sem.

Lander gave Ta'Sem a small but wicked smile. "I'm not going to sit still in a battle. I am retaking my ship."