The Hive

Source Episode: VOY 3x26 Scorpion pt. 1

A deep seed of rage began to take root in my heart as I leaned against the bulkhead outside of the surgical bay, watching the alien infection slowly spread out from the scratches the creature had left on Tuvok's chest. The Prophet could have warned us, but she'd stayed silent. She could have come to the cube and possessed the alien, or helped us get away somehow, but she had done nothing.

The rage only grew when Captain Janeway arrived.

"Report, Doctor," she snapped as she approached, not entirely covering the tremor in her voice.

"The alien cells have begun infusing every system in Lieutenant Commander Tuvok's body," Schmullis grimly informed her, "consuming his own cells from the inside out. His Vulcan physiology is slowing the spread of the infection some, but it's still progressing at an alarming rate, and every treatment I've tried has been quickly neutralized. These alien cells are the most densely coded life form I've ever seen."

"Is there anything you can do for him?"

"As you know, I've been analyzing the nanoprobes. They're efficient little assimilators, but they're no match for the alien cells. I managed to access the re-coding mechanism, and I reprogrammed it to emit the same electrochemical signatures as the alien cells. That way, the probe can do its work without being detected. I'd like to unleash an army of modified nanoprobes into his bloodstream, but I've only created a few prototypes. I'll need several days to modify enough nanoprobes to cure Mister Tuvok."

"Does he have several days?"

"I wish I knew," Schmullis said somberly before he walked away.

Janeway stood outside of the force field around the surgical bay for several seconds, silently staring at her dearest friend. A few seconds later, her hand settled on my shoulder.

"Captain," I murmured, "I'm sorry I brought that wretched entity on board with me."

"Oh? Why do you say that?" she asked.

"She lead us into this. If it hadn't been for those ridiculous visions—"

"Then I would have ordered Tom to charge into Borg space with no knowledge whatsoever of these aliens or their conflict with the Borg, and we might all be dead." I looked at her, and her eyes filled with compassion. "Talia. I'm not exactly happy with the Prophet myself. She had the power to prevent this, and she didn't. But, right now, the best thing we can do is focus on what's ahead of us. I'm not giving up yet." She gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before turning to leave.

The next morning, we arrived at the northwest passage, but our analysis of the cube's tactical data the previous afternoon had already revealed to us what we could expect to find there.

"Captain," Harry reported, "I'm reading one hundred and thirty three bio-ships, and there are more coming from a quantum singularity."

Chakotay ordered him to activate the view screen. A large rift had opened in space, and swarms of bio-ships flowed through it into the passage. On the other side of the rift, their realm rippled and glowed like an ocean reflecting sunlight.

"Kes?" Janeway asked, having brought our Ocampan doctor to the bridge as a communicator and consultant. The day of our first encounter with the alien, a member of the species—whom the Borg had designated as 8472—had briefly made telepathic contact with her before Voyager fled the debris field.

"I can hear them," Kes confirmed. "I feel malevolence, a cold hatred. They say, 'The weak will perish.'" She paused momentarily, listening. "It's an invasion, Captain. They intend to destroy everything."

"Tom, reverse course, maximum warp," Janeway quickly ordered. "Take us five light years out and hold position."

"Talia, remind me what it was that the Prophet told you in your last vision," Janeway asked me as she settled onto the couch in her ready room. Once our new course was set, she had called Chakotay, Kes, and me in with her to discuss our situation.

I leaned back against the railing across from where she sat, closing my eyes to help me remember that night. "'You will approach your path and find a beast blocking it.'"

"The invading forces of Species 8472," Chakotay stated.

I continued. "'You will want to turn away, but all will be lost if you flee. Always keep Bajor in your sight.'"

"Keep moving forward," Kes translated. "Don't give up on going home."

I opened my eyes and saw Chakotay shaking his head. "I'm not sure I like that. Flying into that corridor would mean certain death."

"Agreed," said Janeway. "But I'm not ready to walk onto that bridge and tell the crew we're quitting. What else did the Prophet tell you, Talia?"

"'Enemies must become allies to drive away the beast,'" I relayed.

She sighed wearily, rubbing her face with her hands. "That's the part I'm less clear on. Enemies become allies. Who is that referring to?"

I swallowed hard and glanced at Kes, who was seated on the couch next to Janeway. I had an idea of who the Prophet was talking about, but I was afraid to say it out loud, almost as if verbalizing it would make it irrevocably so.

Kes intuited my look and spoke for me. "I think it means we're supposed to work with the Borg to defend against 8472."

Chakotay's eyes widened. "An alliance with the Borg?"

A new and determined hope dawned Captain Janeway's face as she swished the idea around in her head like a mouthful of wine. "If a god can't help us," she muttered, almost to herself, "then we make a deal with the devil."

"Kathryn," Chakotay said, striding towards her, "are you seriously considering this?"

"What other choice do we have, Chakotay?" she asked.

"We retreat to safe space, and stay alive!"

"You mean, give up?"

"We'd be turning around, but we wouldn't be giving up. We may find another way home."

"What about the prophecy?" Kes asked. "She said, 'All will be lost if you flee.'"

"To hell with the prophecy!" Chakotay nearly shouted. Janeway gaped at him, surprised that his practical sense of survival was so strongly overpowering his deep spiritual bent. Noting her shock, he knelt before her and gently took her hands. "There's a story I heard as a child—a parable—and I never forgot it.

"A scorpion was walking along the bank of a river, wondering how to get to the other side. Suddenly he saw a fox. He asked the fox to take him on his back across the river.

"The fox said, 'No, if I do that, you'll sting me and I'll drown.'

"The scorpion assured him, 'If I did that, we'd both drown.'

"The fox thought about it and finally agreed. So the scorpion climbed up on his back, and the fox began to swim. But halfway across the river, the scorpion stung him. As the poison filled his veins, the fox turned to the scorpion and said, 'Why did you do that? Now you'll drown too.'

"'I couldn't help it,' said the scorpion. 'It's my nature.'"

Janeway squeezed Chakotay's hands. "I understand the risks. I'm not suggesting that we can change the nature of the hive. But, to our knowledge, the Borg have never been threatened like this before. We can use that. Doctor Schmullis' nanoprobe research and our data from the bio-ship are the key to defeating 8472. They need that information, and we can hold that over them until we are safely through their space. We just need the courage to see this through."

"If what I've learned from the aliens is true," Kes interjected, "the Borg are losing this war."

"If we run," Janeway continued, "and we let 8472 destroy the Borg, we could find ourselves right back in the line of fire, and we'll have missed the opportunity that exists right now."

"But, we'd be giving an advantage to a race guilty of murdering billions!" Chakotay insisted, his tone rising again with fervent passion. "We'd be helping the Borg assimilate yet another species, just to get ourselves back home. It's wrong!"

She sighed and hung her head. "I know. And, it would be a violation of the Prime Directive. But, Chakotay, something in my gut tells me this is right."

"We wouldn't be helping the Borg to assimilate 8472," Kes asserted. "The medical simulations that Dr. Schmullis and I have run show that the modified nanoprobes won't be able to fully assimilate the alien cells before they're detected and destroyed; they work because they leave the alien cells too weak to survive the immune response, so the cells and the nanoprobes just destroy each other."

"That may be true," Chakotay argued, "but we'd still be interfering in an alien conflict that has nothing to do with us."

"But, it does involve us," I insisted.

Janeway looked at me. "What makes you say that?"

"Every warning the Prophet has given me implies that the Borg will win this conflict eventually," I explained, "but not before they are scattered even further across the galaxy. When they rebuild, they will be in an even better position to assimilate new sectors that have not previously been worth their while to attack.

"We already know they want Earth; they've made at least two small incursions into Federation space since the twenty-first century, if not more, and they know the Federation is sheltering El-Aurian refugees from them. If it's true that the Federation has been at war with the Dominion during the last three years, Starfleet may not have the resources to defend themselves against another attack."

"No offense, Talia," Chakotay answered pointedly, "but that's all just conjecture based on a few isolated incidents, mixed with the metaphorical visions given to you by a non-corporeal alien that we know almost nothing about. If that's all the evidence we have to justify our actions when we write our reports about this mission, we'll all be tossed in front of a review board the moment we get back to Starfleet."

I nodded. "You're right, Tay. So, let's set aside those predictions and consider what we know. Species 8472 has made it quite clear that they plan to make war on the entire galaxy. They have communicated this directly to a member of our crew. They have also attacked a crewman with potentially deadly force, so we have no reason to doubt the sincerity of their threats. This species isn't just a danger to the Borg, or to Voyager. They're a danger to the Federation, and frankly, to the rest of the galaxy. Therefore, it is our duty as Starfleet officers to intervene. Is it not?"

Chakotay pursed his lips. He had no response to my argument, yet he disliked the idea of moving forward.

I knew that he still had a very bitter taste in his mouth from our experience with the ex-Borg cooperative in the Nekrit Expanse. Yet, there was something more to his objections than bitterness—something I wouldn't have noticed had I not been standing a few steps away from where he knelt before his beloved, clinging to her hand.

Janeway and Chakotay had both been careful to keep their personal relationship separated from their duty. Watching them on the bridge or in the briefing room, one would never know they had been romantically involved during the past year.

Yet, for the first time I could recall, my old friend was failing to maintain his professionalism in the face of this new threat. The monsters had gone to war against each other, the gods had done nothing but throw us in the middle, and Chakotay was terrified of losing her in the fight. He had allowed this woman to burrow deep into his soul, which was something he couldn't help but keep tucked precariously under the sleeve of his uniform.

It was his greatest strength, and his deepest weakness.

Meanwhile, Janeway cast her hardened gaze out the window behind her, more weighted on the side of her duty to her crew and to Federation principles than she ever allowed herself to be by her personal desires. Thank God she was, for we would need our captain's strength to survive. Indeed, though she maintained a tight grip on her beloved with one hand, her other hand supported the defiant chin and determined mind of Voyager's indomitable leader.

"Kathryn," Chakotay prodded gently, his worried gaze fixed on her, "you haven't slept in two days. Get some rest. Clear your head. We can make a decision tomorrow."

"I've already made my decision," she responded firmly, clearly overruling her first officer's input. With one last survey of the stars beyond her window, she turned again to face him. "But I do agree, Chakotay. Right now, what I need—what we all need—is sleep."

Just over two days later, Voyager entered the outskirts of a Borg star system. As we stared out at the assimilated planet in front of us, and the three huge cubes that closed on our position, we hoped for the best even as we braced for the worst. We had entered an all-or-nothing game, and there was no going back anymore.

Ten thousand emotionless voices spoke as one when they sent their opening hail. "We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile."