He stood on the transporter pad, the almost comical image of logic and illogic combined in his very crisp, very Romulan tunic. His eyes caught mine, and one eyebrow crept subtly above the other. For a very slight moment, there was silence.
"Captain Picard, it is good to see you again," the Praetor stated flatly. She looked at me. "You I do not know…"
"He is Captain Michael Allen, of the starship Ascension," Spock said. I nodded, wide-eyed. He knows my name. Picard smiled.
"Praetor Donatra, welcome aboard the Enterprise, and to Federation space. Ambassador, it is good, as always, to see you again." Spock gave a nod, then stepped down slowly from the transporter. He approached me with a quizzical look, addressing the Praetor over his shoulder.
"Captain Allen is part of a Federation recruitment project which has been brought online to combat the current crisis with the Borg." Picard nodded.
"The details are somewhat…classified, I'm afraid," he said. The Praetor seemed not to care.
"Very well, Captain Picard. Let us do what we came here to do."
"Of course, Madame Praetor." He tapped his communicator. "Number One?"
"Madden here, sir."
"Set a course for Earth at warp factor eight, and engage. Signal the Peklar to follow."
"Aye, sir."
"And now," Picard said, straightening his tunic and smiling diplomatically, "if you would be so kind as to follow me, we will get down to business."
Four of us sat in the Observation Lounge. The other two Romulans, the Praetorian Guard, as well as two Federation security officers, stood outside the door. Ambassador Spock sat across the table from me, next to the Praetor, with his hands folded in thought.
"Captain Picard," Donatra began, "I assume that we are quite free to talk in here."
"Oh yes, Madame Praetor. This room has been secured for our use. Where shall we begin?" Donatra reached into her cloak and produced a small metal object with a smooth, rounded surface. She set it down, and immediately a holographic projection of a group of stars appeared above the surface of the table. A greenish glow came from a large section of the stars. I recognized it from the charts as a representation of Romulan space. Slowly, red dots began to appear near the furthest edge.
"We are detecting Borg ships in greater numbers each day. They have been clustering together at several gathering points along our perimeter."
"Yes, our long range scanners were able to pick up some of the nearer groups," Picard said. "Thus far, we've been able to detect about fifty ships." The Praetor sighed, which I thought seemed very uncharacteristic for a Romulan.
"I fear that the situation is much worse than that, Captain. Our sensors have picked up, to date, over three hundred Borg vessels, and there are indications of more on the way. As you can imagine, Captain, this fact is most distressing to the Romulan Senate. Word has nearly leaked to the public several times already."
"You mean you haven't warned your people yet?" I asked, shocked. Picard looked at me sharply as the Praetor responded.
"No. Only our top military officials and Ambassador Spock have been informed of the situation. That is our way." There was silence for a moment. Spock, seeming to sense the inadequacy of the Praetor's answer, continued for her.
"If the Romulan public were made aware of the situation at hand, chaos would break out. Tactically, it would be unwise to introduce such instability to an already dangerous situation. Given the militaristic status of the Romulan Empire, those who can fight are already in a position that ensures they will fight. The rest of the Empire, for the most part, is composed of individuals who cannot contribute beyond the relief efforts."
"When were you planning on telling your men what they're up against?" I asked the Praetor. I could feel my own tension rising, and I struggled to keep it from showing in my voice. The Praetor smiled sarcastically.
"I think, Captain Allen, that you have just solved your own concern. I do not have men to tell. I have Romulans. And Romulans will not groan and complain when they are told what they face. If I choose to tell them the day before the attack, they will still follow my orders to the very last. Please spare me your feelings of pity for my men. I assure you they are quite unnecessary." I sat back in my seat, aware that I had just been soundly beaten in the argument. She was right; I simply could not think of her people as humans. Still…
"Shall we move on, Captain Picard? Unless Captain Allen has any further objections…" I looked at Spock and saw what just might have been a trace of pity behind his otherwise cold eyes. Then I looked down at the table.
"I have no further questions," I mumbled. Picard cleared his throat.
"Well, Madame Praetor, now we come to the Federation's part of this bargain. We have in our possession a certain type of ablative hull armor that has proven itself remarkably against Borg weaponry." He tapped at a padd in his hand, then slid it across the table to the Praetor. She looked at it for several long seconds, her slanted eyebrows arching a bit. At last she looked back up, handing the padd to Spock.
"Fascinating," he murmured. "I was not aware of this technology." Picard smiled.
"That's because it's been highly classified. Let's just say that this technology is thanks to a bit of tampering done with the timeline, and Starfleet tries to keep things like that extremely low-key. At any rate, the information is yours now for the implementing. Additionally, Starfleet has developed a type of body shield. It's designed to keep a person from being assimilated for a short period of time. The frequency for each shield is different, so the Borg would have to break a new code for every person. It wouldn't keep someone from being assimilated indefinitely, but it might buy him a few minutes in an emergency.
"The only problem is that we've never been able to test it. Starfleet is relatively confident that these shields will work, but nobody knows for sure. Again, though, the information on them is yours, and you will find that it is also in that padd." The Praetor seemed satisfied. She proffered the small projector to him.
"In this star chart the are the present and future positions of my entire fleet. Our conference on Earth may impact this, so it has been programmed to receive regular updates from myself or from any of my top commanders." She looked at Spock. "And now we must bring forth perhaps the most pressing issue in this exchange. Ambassador?" Spock cleared his throat and folded his hands on the table.
"We have received intelligence reports recently on a faction of Reman derelicts. They have been around for some time, and are in possession of several ships, a small army, and a network of intelligence operatives. They were heavily involved in the coup staged by former Praetor Shinzon." At the mention of Shinzon, I saw Picard's face fall a little. Data.
"They call themselves the Bek'Tal, and have been a problem in the Empire for several years. Now, intelligence reports indicate that they have joined forces with several high-ranking Cardassian military leaders. No one seems to know what purpose they have, but we feel it is safe to assume that there is a threat to the Federation as well as the Romulan Empire. The Bek'Tal, from all indications, are totally in favor of defeating the Federation, as is most of the Cardassian military hierarchy. Our concern is that this new formation may have dealings with the Borg, exchanging knowledge with them for their own freedom."
"It would not be a great surprise to us, Captain," the Praetor said. "Shinzon's dream of conquering the Federation was not his own. There are many in the Empire who would be glad to see the Federation fall. I am sure you can understand this, since there are probably just as many on the side of the Federation who would happily seeour destruction." She looked at me. "That, too, is a reason for keeping things from one's people. Our alliance with you must be kept secret until the time comes. We do not want a civil war on our hands."
"The situation will be presented to the Romulan people as a surprise attack from the Borg," Spock said. "Fortunately, the Romulan military will be as ready as possible."
"A lie?" I asked boldly.
"A convenience," he replied.
"No Romulan will be surprised that the military is in peak performance," the Praetor said haughtily. She rose. "Is there anything further that you require of us, Captain?" she addressed Picard. The rest of us stood.
"Not at all, Praetor. Would you care to see your quarters?"
"Indeed. I am rather tired." Picard nodded.
"I understand. Will you be joining us for dinner?" he asked. The Praetor arched an eyebrow, and a vision of Chancellor Gorkon flitted across my mind.
"I do not believe so, Captain. Thank you, nonetheless." I breathed a silent sigh of relief.
"I, too, will take my evening meal in my quarters, if you do not mind," said Spock. I was very disappointed, but I tried not to let my face show it. Picard simply nodded.
"Of course," he said. We exited, the Praetor and company heading one way, Picard and I the other. He was silent as we walked down the corridor.
"That was an interesting meeting," I said, trying to start a conversation.
"Indeed. Mr. Allen, you're really going to have to learn some diplomacy if you're to attend meetings of such importance in the future. You could have easily offended her."
"And what if I had," I said, just a little too indignantly. "What's she going to do, refuse to help us?" Picard stopped and turned, anger in his eyes.
"Yes, Mr. Allen. That's exactly what she might do. Romulans are an incredibly proud people, and to offend them is to invite trouble, no matter what the circumstance." We came to a turbolift.
"I'm sorry, Captain," I said. "I am new at this, and I suppose I should have kept my mouth shut."
"See that you do in the future," he said, disappearing into the turbolift. I sighed and shuffled off towards my quarters to sleep the evening off.
I awoke to a flash of light so bright, it seemed to emanate from all around me. I jumped out of bed, slamming my skull into the bulkhead. My cursing was interrupted by another flash, this time not as bright, outside my window. Swiftly I padded over to it and looked out. I felt a sudden, slight nausea as the stars spun violently downward. I realized instantly that it was not the stars that were moving, but the Enterprise. A red light on my wall began flashing, and the loud red alert klaxon began to sound.
"Red Alert! All hands to battle stations!" I heard Picard's voice say over the intercom. "Captain Allen, report to the bridge immediately!"
I got dressed as quickly as I could. My brain raced. It was obvious that we were being attacked, but who was attacking us? The Peklar? The Bek'Tal? I shuddered. The Borg? Suddenly my feet came out from underneath me as the ship was slammed by weapons fire. I picked myself up from the floor, sore but uninjured. I ran out the door and down the hall toward the turbolift. People were running up and down the halls, presumably headed for their battle stations. I stopped a young ensign and asked him what was going on.
"It's the Borg, sir. They're here." His face was full of fear. So was mine, I was sure. I stepped into the turbolift.
"Bridge," I said. "And step on it." After a brief moment, the doors reopened. On the bridge all was organized and orderly, though everyone seemed to be on edge. Ahead, on the viewscreen, was a Borg cube. It loomed, gargantuan and foreboding, over Enterprise, energy beams lancing to and from it every few seconds. Picard stood with Commander Madden in the center of the bridge. I noticed that Picard had taken a spill; blood trickled from a gash on his forehead.
"C-Captain Allen," he said, obviously dazed, "please man tactical." I forced myself to walk to the console, and took over for the ensign on duty, whose broken arm hung grotesquely at his side. His face clenched in pain, he addressed me.
"Permission to go to sickbay, Captain?" I looked askance at Picard, and he nodded weakly.
"Granted," I said, and turned my attention to the tactical display, trying to remember how it all worked. Fortunately, most of the LCARS interfaces were not nearly as complicated as people thought. After all, the ease of using them had been one of the reasons LCARS displays were implemented on starships.
"Helm," Picard said, "Lay in a course for the Toslo Nebula. Maximum warp." Kell Perim looked at Picard.
"Captain, we'll never make it to…"
"Make it so!" Picard shouted. He then sunk into his chair, having expendedhis last large burst of energy. "Engage," he said softly. I felt the Enterprise shift into warp speed, and the stars ahead on the viewscreen assumed their familiar streaking motion. On my console, as well as on several others, a warning light blinked. I checked it out.
"Captain, the Borg are in pursuit," I said. No response. Picard's form went limp; he had passed out. Commander Madden shook him, to no avail. He looked at me.
"Captain Allen?" he said. I shook my head.
"No way, Commander. This one is yours. You're the first officer. Take over." Madden nodded, understanding.
"Helm, report," he said.
"The Borg have matched our speed and are accelerating," Perim said.
"Aft quantum torpedoes," Madden commanded.
"Torpedoes locked and…" the lieutenant at the weapons console never finished the sentence. The Enterprise was rocked by a massive blast, and the bridge turned on its side. I felt myself being hurled across the room. I slammed into the wall, losing my breath. As I struggled to get air into my lungs, a sickeningly familiar sound came over the intercom.
"We are the Borg. Lower your weapons. You will be assimilated. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."
I looked around for Commander Madden, and at first could not see him. When I did, I nearly lost my lunch. His face was smashed in by the console on which he had landed. His neck was broken; his head lay at an otherwise impossible angle to his shoulders. He was dead.
Responsibility, Mike. Here is where it begins and possibly ends.
"Report," I wheezed, rising slowly. Perim climbed back into her chair and tapped her console.
"Shields at four percent, Captain," she said, the fear in her voice shining through.
"Are the aft torpedoes still locked?" I asked. She nodded.
"Fire," I said. She complied. "On screen."
The viewscreen shifted to the aft. The twin warp pylons of the Enterprise pointed to the massive ship directly behind us. Five points of white light approached the cube, and then disappeared into the tangled metal mess of its hull. There was a blinding flash, and a section of the cube erupted outward. The viewscreen dimmed to keep us from being blinded.
"Direct hit, sir," Perim stated. "Significant damage done to the hull, but…" The Borg retaliated. I found myself staring up at the ceiling, where acrid smoke from burnt circuitry flowed freely across the bridge. I turned my head to see Picard, his eyes fluttering as he slowly regained consciousness. I sat up and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him a little. Over my shoulder, the injured voice of Lieutenant Perim came again.
"Shields are down, Captain." A moment. "Captain, we're being boarded!" Terror gripped me. What could I do? I looked at Picard, but he was barely awake, let alone cognizant of his surroundings. I stood up.
"Now hear this," I said. "This is Captain Allen, assuming command of the Enterprise. Abandon ship! Repeat, abandon ship!" At that moment, a beam of light appeared in the center of the bridge, and three Borg drones materialized in front of me.
