Paint and Powder
A Star Trek anthology by Andrew Joshua Talon
DISCLAIMER: This is a non-profit fan based work of prose. Star Trek: The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager et al are the property of CBS Television, and creation of Gene Roddenberry. Please support the official release.
"I, Borg"
Crashed starships seldom had a happy ending. Enterprise knew this well. For all their advancements, starships were trying desperately to keep hopelessly fragile beings alive against forces that would render them into paste-or worse-if given only a moment.
That said, this crashed starship had a survivor. Which would have been good... If not for the nature of the ship and its survivor.
"It's a Borg, sir," Worf reported. Picard tensed noticeably on the bridge.
"He's going to die unless we beam him up!" Doctor Crusher said. Enterprise narrowed her eyes as she stood at attention.
"Good," Enterprise growled.
"Enterprise!" Crusher admonished.
"Doctor, the Borg are going to come and investigate their lost vessel," Picard stated, calmly but with an noticeable hard undertone, "we do not want to be here when they arrive."
"Kill it now!" Worf suggested forcefully, and Enterprise could imagine him already going for his phaser, "make it look like it died in the crash!"
"Captain, please," Crusher pleaded, "we cannot leave this boy to die!"
Enterprise's hands clenched into fists. Every perfect memory she had of her sisters' deaths and assimilation at the hands of the Borg, of the thousands of crew who died, of the wreckage at Wolf 359, raced through her head faster than light. She would never forget any of them, and in circumstances like this? She never wanted to.
"This boy is a Borg, Doctor," Worf reminded her, "it would not feel the same for you under the circumstances-"
"Captain, please," Crusher pleaded again. Picard let out a harsh sigh, almost a hiss.
"... Beam the Borg to the brig. Mister Worf, full security detail and protections. Enterprise?"
"Captain, I must protest-!" Enterprise tried, turning with anger and fury burning in her eyes. Picard matched her angry gaze with one of stone.
"That's an order, Enterprise," he stated, "enact all security measures."
"Thank you, Captain," Crusher said gratefully. Picard ground his teeth and said nothing. Enterprise scowled, and glared at the viewscreen.
"Yes sir," she managed, in no better mood.
Normally, Enterprise enjoyed aiding Doctor Crusher in her work. She wasn't a doctor herself, despite her knowledge base, but she was a capable nurse. It let her feel like she was honoring Nurse Chapel, whom she had been very close with.
She was also very close to Doctor Crusher. Her tenacity, intelligence and compassion were all traits Enterprise valued very much.
Right now? Not so much. She was glaring every moment she had to assist the Doctor in helping the Borg. They'd isolated it in her brig, with a dozen security officers surrounding it at all times. They'd been issued body armor and phaser rifles-Enterprise's idea. Veracruz had come up with some new designs in the wake of Wolf 359 to better protect members of security, and the shipgirls of the fleet had encouraged their goldshirts to wear them.
No organic nurse was allowed to help Doctor Crusher... So that left Enterprise. For an hour, she aided the Doctor, handing over tools and checking on the Borg's vitals. As well as managing the environmental controls to keep the Borg comfortable.
And she hated every nanosecond of it.
"Dermal regenerator," Crusher asked, holding out her hand. Enterprise grit her teeth. "Enterprise?"
"Dermal regenerator," Enterprise ground out, picking up the tool and handing it to Crusher. The doctor went to work, carefully repairing the skin of the Borg. Crusher let out a soft sigh, relaxing. Enterprise's own sensors confirmed: The Borg was recovering.
"He'll pull through," Crusher murmured.
"Wonderful," Enterprise sneered. Crusher's eyes shot to the holographic avatar, surprised.
"Enterprise!"
"Don't lecture me about medical ethics, Doctor," Enterprise snapped, "or Federation morals. This thing is no different from all the other Borg who killed thousands of people, or worse, and dozens of my sisters. Or have you forgotten?"
"I haven't," Crusher said testily, "but I can't just let someone die when I have the power to save them. Not some innocent boy!"
"Innocent?" Enterprise sneered, eyes narrowed.
"He's a drone, Enterprise. He doesn't have any will of his own," Crusher pointed out, "the Collective turned him into this! They made him! He had no choice-!"
"And if he did, he'd probably prefer to die than live like this," Enterprise growled, snapping the med kit shut loudly. Crusher bit back a retort, and visibly calmed herself. She took a hypospray, and injected its contents into the neck of the drone.
"He'll recover," she said. "He'll regain consciousness soon."
"Then you should leave, Doctor," Worf growled behind them. Crusher nodded, and stepped out of the cell. Enterprise flickered and appeared outside, as she reactivated the forcefield.
Having Locutus aboard had been bad enough. The Borg implants were constantly sending out signals that would have made Enterprise's skin crawl if she had the real thing. They were like tentacles, blindly groping and pushing to try and get into everything. To take over and corrupt whatever they encountered.
The Borg sat up, and began looking around. Scanning, almost frantically. It examined the cell, analyzing it. Enterprise cut off any subspace or electromagnetic signals going in or out of the cell. The Borg drone moved faster, seeking out anything recognizable.
It almost looked afraid.
Enterprise tried for a nanosecond not to feel pleased at this... And failed.
To be continued, with a different ending from the original...