Star Trek: "The Mudd Collective…"

Summary: After using illegally…(Sir, knowledge should be free to all!)…Acquired genetic tech to reverse his aging, Harry Mudd sets his sights on bringing… "Mudd"…To the Galaxy through the Federation's deadliest foe. That'll show James T. Kirk. And that Burnham. And he don't like that Picard chap much either, at that, even if he hasn't met him.

2383…Just a bit into the Delta Quadrant, beyond Federation well-charted space…

"Captain's log…Stardate, whatever…" the rather hefty figure in a rather outlandish uniform vaguely similar to a Starfleet senior admiral, if one wore copious amount of fringe.

"Space, the final frontier, for some. For a man like me, a haven, a sanctuary, an escape, from the horrors of daily living. Especially with…"

"Harcourt! Harcourt Fenton Mudd! You, drunken, overweight, good for nothing…" a shrill cry to the "captain", the said Harcourt Fenton Mudd, currently holding, thanks to illegal genetic aging modification, at age approximately 45, Earth standard. He sighed.

"Stella, dear…Thank you for your data report, and your daily dose of Stella. Now, get back to cleaning those plasma conduits, would you?" the "captain" turns to face the tall, angular woman glaring at him, her features immediately softening. The translucent badge on her throat briefly flashing, the number 321 visible on it.

"Yes, dear. Right away, Harcourt, my darling. I'm making them pulsate." Wide smile.

"Wonderful." Roll of eyes as Stella 321 about faces and departs via an unusual bridge door that seemed more to part to let her through than open. "Computer? Resume captain's log at 'Especially with…', thank you."

"Of course, Harry, darling…" the computer's voice cooed.

"Yes…Especially with my dearest Stella, whose middle-aged shrewishness I keep close by me in random limited doses in the Stella Mark I series James Kirk so generously appointed as my guardians on Galor IV or as I had christened it, 'Mudd Prime'. Though given my escape from that hideously twisted nursery/prison…" grimace… "…I have since decided to return its original, dull, name and to find a new capital world for my empire of Mudd."

Eyes the large viewscreen before him from his captain's chair on a bridge remarkably empty, though automated to a degree no Federation starship could match… "Ah, but tis a dull Galaxy really, these last decades now that James Kirk, my old nemesis…Well, one of them, certainly the most annoying…Has been gone. What a pity he never learned I'd not only survived to escape my confinement…Rather like Khan Singh…" he notes proudly. "But where dear old Singh failed, Mudd won out. Stick that in your craw, Kirk." Sneers. "Yes, I, Mudd the First, outwitted the great Captain Kirk and his Andromedan androids. Not only outwitted them all, but survived, outlived, triumphed…Still alive, yes, while you rot in space…Ha, ha, ha!" beaming, raising flask of wine and taking toast sip. "And now, in a ship chock full of technology from our sister galaxy, courtesy of you, dear Jamie boy, leaving it all for me…Am about to build not just a mere sovereign planet or system, but an empire! A Mudd dynasty spanning the Galaxy!"

But…

"But…Without you, dear Kirk…Or some worthy foe…It's all been a bit tasteless. But now, now that I've re-entered the Galaxy, free in my own ship…And not merely free, but ready to carry out my plan for the betterment of the Galaxy. The freedom of all those like me, oppressed by the Federation, its sanctimonious laws, and its Starfleet of choir boys and…!"

"Captain, darling…" the computer cooed. "Sensors detecting an alien vessel. The one you asked me to look out for. Shields are up and all special precautions taken."

"Ah, excellent…Thank you, my dear." Mudd smiled, setting down flask. "The final piece in my puzzle. Put the ship close up on screen, please and open all channels. Alert all crew to assume their battle stations. And summon the three designated Stella Mark Is and one of my Stella IIs to the bridge at once."

The screen displayed a large Borg cube…As three Stellas entered the bridge, looking grim and forbidding, a younger, beauteous, warmly smiling, Stella following…

"We are the Borg…" voice echoing through the ship via the intership com system.

…

"Yes, yes…I know. I contacted you when I entered this quadrant." Mudd eyed the ship on screen, calmly, swinging in his chair.

I see why Kirk loved this type of chair…Far more delightfully in control than the couch thing on the Galaxy class Federation ships.

"Now, let me speak to the Queen."

"Access denied. Your ship will be assimilated, you and your technology annexed to our…"

Mudd frowning, turned to the nearest computer console… "Computer, enough of that." Coldly.

The collective voice ceased…

"Stella 32…" he turned to one of the three Stellas. "You know what to do. Take your assigned sisters and fetch me the Queen."

"Right away, darling." Fond smile. The Stella vanishing in transporter haze.

"Harry?" the younger Mark II Stella came to him. "Are you quite sure this is safe for you? They have extremely advanced assimilation technology."

"But not Andromedan, yet. And you and your sisters have already proofed yourselves and me against their tech, poor hapless cyborgs." He smiled. "Calm yourself, my dear."

"The Borg are attempting to penetrate our shields but without success as yet. Our technology is confusing them." One of the two remaining Stellas noted from where she stood on the quite small bridge.

"Thanks, dear." He waved a hand. "I'm sure we'll be fine."

Stella 32 reappeared suddenly, dress slightly torn, grasping a large Borg female, clearly the Queen.

"You? Species 5618? How have you acquired this technology? Human, you will be assimilated…" the Queen fumed, eyeing Mudd. "Uhnnn…" As the Stella removed a component and immediately inserted another.

"Sorry, I had to have my Stella unplug you from the Collective, dear." He eyed the Queen. "You understand, I hope. Or you will."

"What? Who are you? Where…?" the Queen, looking about, all former arrogance gone, nervous anxiety as the color of her skin changed slowly to a more healthy shade… "The Borg attacked…I…Where am I?"

"You are on my good ship, the Excelsior, Mudd class I. A fine ship of the line built with the advanced technology of Bandoaz II, a long-destroyed world of a supernova in the Andromeda galaxy." Mudd noted proudly. "Stella 32, you may release our guest."

"You…Took me from the Borg?" the Queen stared as she stood, shakily, out of the watchful Stella 32's grip. "Did they send you to rescue me? My people?"

"Well…No, though I suppose in a manner of speaking I have rescued you. Any chance you remember your original name, dear?" he offered gentle smile.

"Cal…Callia…I…was Callia…Nmz…I…I'm not sure, it's been so long." she struggled. "We must get away, they'll assimilate us again! Please!"

"No fear, dear girl. The technology aboard my ship protects us." He noted confidently. "Not to mention your former confederates of the Collective are quite at a loss without you and cut off from the Borg Hive. Though, of course, my dear Stellas are acting even now to assist them."

Cut to the interior of the cube where a hundred plus Stellas were quickly, efficiently, and relatively peacefully, disabling the last drones still confusedly attempting to follow implanted directives and assimilate them. The androids shrugging off the drones' efforts, gently but firmly. A number of drones clearly in process of disengaging from the Hive mind, looking fearful and confused, vaguely questioning, several Stellas offering kind reassurances to them that all would be well, as their captain and beloved leader had come to save them.

Back to the Excelsior bridge…

"These women…" the former Queen looked about at the four Stellas, the three Mark Is eyeing her grimly, the Mark II smiling gently at her. "I…Remember…From." Shudder as she looked at several implants on her arm and chest. "They're…Robots?"

"Androids, actually. And quite assimilation-proof, I assure you. I certainly wouldn't risk such a thing if I wasn't sure." Broad smile.

"Can you…Can you take me home? Get these …?" she shuddered. "Things out of me?"

"Well, I'm afraid your homeworld is likely long assimilated. However, I'm certain my Stellas can remove your Borg implants. Might take a few days to complete the job but…"

"Please…" she pleaded. "I have to go and try to find my family. See if I can free them."

"That's commendable of you. Such family feeling moves me. Perhaps we can assist you there as well."

"You would? Oh, you are kind…And brave." The Queen eyed him, carefully offering nervous smile. "Who are you? You're from…The Federation of Planets? You're a Federation human?"

"He is…Captain Harcourt Fenton Mudd!" all the four Stellas in unison.

"As charged…" Mudd, gallantly bowing. "Though the title is unofficial, I am a civilian…And consider myself a citizen of all the Galaxy. But please, call me…Harry." Warm smile to her nervous one.

…