Star Trek: Season 8 - The Perfect Reflection

[Jen]

ACT I

Prologue

Joint Post By Jen and Hawkeymeds:

Joseph D'Callan sat looking at the empty space in front of him. Only five minutes before, he had been viewing a message from his brother Theran. It was nice to receive well wishes from him, but then his brother ruined those good intentions with the shocking news that his father had escaped from the high security asylum. Therean went on to reveal that their father was responsible for the deadly AI chip implanted in Joseph, and twelve other individuals. Against strict Section 31 orders, his brother sent him the message on an encoded bandwidth, so as not to be detected. Theran D'Callan decided, for once in his life, that the truth would be better told straight away. He followed up this information with the details of his new mission for Section 31; including the individual he would be working with. This was the news D'Callan was currently pondering. He was nervous and groggy from the medication. His stomach rumbled from the pit of his hollow core. It seemed he was hungry too.

The Chief Of Security was propped up on one elbow, still holding the PADD in his hand. The Sickbay was quiet, and only a few medical personnel still bustled about. He heard a throat being cleared and he lowered the Personal Display Device to see Doctor Drett standing at the foot of his bio bed. "Feeling better?" she asked in an amiable tone that could brighten the darkest mood.

Joseph gave her a warm smile, "Hello Ryla. How long have you been stealthily hovering, like only you medical types can?"

"Long enough to see your face transition from a serine smile to a serious frown."

D'Callan put the PADD down on the others side of the bed and turned it over,  "I have a lot on my mind...can you keep a secret?"

"As long as what you're going to tell me, isn't a danger to the ship, or this crew, then doctor/patient confidentiality will be honored.... Cross my heart and hope to die." She smiled at the children's oath,  "that's something Felahras's youngest daughter, Marilda, used to say. She was always making promises to me. But that was four hosts and two hundred and fifteen years ago. It's possible I have the wording wrong...how did the rest go? 'Stick a needle in my eye?' The son of a Starfleet Ambassador taught my daughter that vicious vow. Humans can be so morbid... no offense Lieutenant."

"None taken. Though I can't say as much for Commander Sevryll. I said something improper to her, upon my arrival on Arabella."

Ryla raised an eyebrow.

"That's uncanny. That was her reaction as well," he smirked.

"Is that what you're worried about? Vulcans have tough skin. I'm sure she's forgotten it by now."

"I don't know about that. I thought I was out of earshot—and I was—but her Vulcan hearing is more sensitive than I thought and she let me know it.  The Commander picked up on every word, and I guess you can say we got off on the wrong ear." He chucked at his own joke before continuing. "I've been out of the world of professional attitude for quite a while. But I'm back in form now, so to speak, the trouble is, I have learned something that I believe is important to her. It's extremely sensitive information. I feel it is necessary to share it with her, but she's not going to want to hear it from me that's for sure."

Ryla patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry. Lieutenant Joseph D'Callan always does the right thing, even if it means risking of his own life. I believe that's why you're in Sickbay now, isn't it? Ensign Dunn and that child you saved are very grateful that you didn't hesitate to do the right thing back on Ter'Oss. You faced down a ferocious animal to save their lives... I doubt Commander Sevryll is as scary as that."

Ryla looked up to see Susan Caine watching their exchange from her station. The Trill glanced to D'Callan who had also noticed the nurse.  Susan stepped out from behind her terminal and smiled, "I was going to go to the Afterburner for dinner. Can I bring you something, Joseph?" 

"Fish and Chips, mushy peas, oh and gravy. That would be nice. Thank you," he said.

Nurse Caine stifled a smile and left Drett and D'Callan for the lounge. Ryla waited for the doors to close before turning back to the Lieutenant,  "She's been at your side every day since the surgery, and not just while making her rounds. She came in to check on you when she was off duty too. Susan is an excellent nurse, but somehow I believe her concern is more than professional." She smiled at the Lieutenant as he began to flush with mild embarrassment.  "She's been having her meals at your bedside for the past few days, but you weren't much for conversation then. Now that you're awake, I'm certain that you'll be much better company. I'm headed to the lounge myself, and I won't be back to check on you...I'm sure Nurse Caine will do that for me." Ryla winked at the security officer and headed for the transparent double doors. The ancient caduceus symbol, engraved in the tempered glass, came together as they closed behind her.

The Lieutenant sighed. Picking up the PADD, he tapped it against his head in thought. He contemplated the new information Theran had given him, but annoyingly, the words of Doctor Drett kept entering his thoughts to distract him. Susan had been by his side the entire time? He had been rude to her the first time they met. It was becoming rather apparent that good impressions were not his forte. A yawn assailed him and he closed his eyes tightly as he drew a large breath of sterile, Sickbay air. When he opened his eyes once more, he brought the PADD before him and tapped the yellow and blue bars.

"Lieutenant Joseph D'Callan, save. FTAO Commander Sevryll.

Deliver this message in the event of no communication from Lieutenant Joseph D'Callan, lapsing 120 hours, during Arabella service. Information to be opened by Commander Sevryll. Code 1, Section 1, Arabella 9-4-73"

He hesitated a moment, then sent the message before deleting it from his PADD. Feeling weak, but happier in the knowledge of Susan Caine's interest, he sank into his pillow and drifted off to sleep.

-----------------------------

Post written by Jen:

Ryla Drett preferred a leisurely pace. After her first host Kabric fell to his death, while rushing up the Tenaran Ice Cliffs on the Trill Homeworld, her edict became "I'll get there when I get there." Because of this decree, the Joined Trill was chronically late. Ryla was always at least three minutes tardy, wherever she went. Of course she made a concerted effort to be prompt to work, for her duty as a physician demanded reliability. But, when off-duty, the Trill was deliberate in her dillydallying.  Luckily, or unluckily for Ryla, no one awaited her arrival in the lounge that evening.

Rumor had it that the Ter'Ossick mission was successful and Spring Farmer, a friend whom the doctor routinely met for dinner, would soon be returning from her very first away mission. It was an assignment that Ryla had yearned to be apart of.  But instead, the Assistant Chief Medical Officer was left in charge of Sickbay. Heading up the ship's medical facility was a responsibility she was no less appreciative of, yet exploration was one of her greatest aspirations. Though Ryla was happy to live vicariously through Spring, she hoped to experience her own adventure in the near future. The next time she saw her friend, Ryla would interview the science officer about her experiences on the planet that the Arabella currently orbited.

She entered the turbolift and called for the appropriate deck, then clasped her hands behind her back and casually leaned against the back wall. The lights from the deck floors ticked past the window slits as the lift ascended toward its destination. They were hypnotic, and as she watched their rhythmic pulse, she found herself contemplating the last conversation she had with Spring a week before. The Fertillian's people corresponded with one another via pheromones, and the young science officer often utilized this technique to gage and affect the moods of other species. Spring had shared her interpretation of Ryla's reaction to the Chief Tactical Officer, after she watched them converse before his departure to Ter'Oss.  Doctor Drett initially rejected Spring's analysis, for Trills rarely were flustered, enamored or infatuated.  But K'Tan had been creeping into her thoughts since their brief exchange, and she wondered if Spring had chemically influenced her sentiments. She quickly dismissed that possibility when she recalled their introduction aboard the Tiberius. At the time, Ensign Farmer was not apart of that crew, and therefore could be accused of playing "matchmaker". Ryla bit her bottom lip subconsciously and as she absently observed the decks fly past, she couldn't help but smile at the Spring's perceptive observation.

The lift slowed and the door opened to deposit her on Deck 11. Her smile narrowed slightly but her expression still denoted a buoyant disposition, and she stepped onto the soft gray carpet with a notable bounce in her step. As she headed down the corridor, busy crewmen, with missions all their own, flowed past like spawning fish, swimming upstream. She greeted them each by name and despite their haste, they managed to smile and say "hello" to the dainty Trill.  Aside from Doctor Peterson, and perhaps Captain Quinn, Doctor Ryla Drett was one of the few officers who could honestly say that she had met every crewmember stationed aboard the Arabella. Everybody ended up in Sickbay in due course, and Ryla had personally examined a good number of personnel and their families. She was well liked, and the admiration of her patients' was due in part to her perpetual optimism and bedside manner.

Another of her mottos was: "compassion for others is secondary only to a cheerful disposition." The mindset was unique to "Ryla Emarin", the host who later became became "Ryla Drett", and this attribute was the basis for her conscription into Peterson's staff. There were many physicians who were more experienced, but Ryla's combination of attitude, ability and ingenuity made her a uniquely qualified medical officer.

She proved herself worthy of the posting during an epidemic that plagued Captain Quinn's ill-fated Akira class starship, the U.S.S. Tiberius. Ryla stepped in for the incapacitated CMO, and while the entire crew was quarantined on Vulsunar Station, she and Aria James toiled to develop a cure. It took almost a year to create, but the accomplishment earned her a position as Assistant Chief Medical Officer aboard Quinn's newly minted Intrepid class starship, the U.S.S. Arabella.

As she approached the oaken double doors of the Arabella's most popular hangout, her gaze turned to the holographic sign positioned above them. The blue flames that spelled the name of J'Dan Marley's lounge, licked at the ceiling like a hungry targ. It was a glitzy directional for a starship, and she wondered what sort of under-the-table dealings J'Dan had to do to gain Starleet's approval for installation.  Ryla continued to admire the sign as she stepped through the doors, and entered the bustling atmosphere of the Afterburner. It was open mic night, and the room was alive with music and patrons eating dinner and playing pool. She slowly scanned the room for an available space and noticed a dark-haired man, of immense physical stature, sitting at her favorite table, with two small children. She knew the children well, for M'rynn and N'vall had come to Sickbay on several occasions.

Ryla found another spot, near the back of the room, and watched them from afar. As she recalled, the man that accompanied them had once introduced himself as "Dennis". A year ago, he aided Drett and K'Tan's investigation of Doctor Lucas, whom they later discovered had purposefully infected the crew of Tiberius with a virus that ultimately claimed a third of the crew and the ship itself. Despite his help, the Herculean man that attended Commander Sevryll's children, was perhaps the one person aboard Arabella that Ryla knew the least about. J'Dan approached her table, pulling the Trill from her reverie. He cast his pale brown eyes upon her and cleared his throat,  "can I get you something Doctor Drett?"

She turned her smile to meet the Bajoran bartender's, "Hello, J'Dan. I know you still haven't come to sickbay for your physical."

"OH. Yeah... I'll take care of that soon. Don't worry Doc."

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully, "see that you do."

He shook one hand as if to say "ouch" and his expression morphed to a pained one before it melted back into a smile, "Would you like something from the bar?"

"Yes, thank you. Let's see....I'd like a Spinach salad, please. With oil and vinegar on the side, and a Tuwaly pie à la mode, but I'd like the pie heated and I don't want the ice-cream on the top. I want it on the side and I'd like Icoberry instead of vanilla... if you can replicate it. If not, then no ice-cream, just whipped cream, but only if it's a relative approximation to the real thing. If it's not, then nothing."

J'Dan punched her order into his PADD, "not even the pie?"

Ryla's smile pressed dimples into her cheeks as she glanced up at him to clarify, "No... then just the pie, but not heated."

J'Dan blinked and after a stretch of silence he replied, "on the side is a big thing for you. I'll have that right out."

As he walked away she noticed M'rynn climbing into a chair next to her.

"Hi," she said in a delightful tone. Ryla beamed at her small guest.

[Jen]

Season Eight:

Post written by Jen and Startrekfanatic5:

Captain Nathaniel Jacob Quinn smiled as he rose from the command chair upon the bridge of the Arabella. The Betazoid/ El Aurian was intensely proud of his valiant crew and magnificent ship. The successful end of their current mission brought with it the conclusion of the USS Arabella's maiden voyage—both the vessel and its crew had demonstrated themselves to be second to no other.

Nathan's quiet yet stalwart authority inspired those who followed him. He was not a gregarious man, nor was he prideful or strident. He was a pensive gentleman with a heart that swelled to embrace those who selflessly served aboard his ship. Many of the Arabella's officers had been aboard the last vessel he commanded—the late, great Tiberius.  Those who lived through the virus that infected his ship were quarantined on an old science station orbiting Vulcan. During the year that followed, the survivors fostered a bond that very few in Starfleet would ever experience. When the Arabella was commissioned, and he was put in command of her, Captain Quinn sought those surviving men and women of Tiberius for his new ship, for no other crew would do.

He clasped his hands behind his back and narrowed his green eyes as he scanned the viewscreen before him. The blue-green world that filled his view served as a backdrop to the two small ships that headed back to Arabella. Their mission was complete and the teams were heading home.

As he lowered himself back into the command chair, an odd sensation enveloped his body. He closed his eyes as the room spun. Seconds later, the smell of stale air filled his nostrils. The captain opened his eyes and witnessed a green haze that hung about him within a heavy atmosphere. The air was stifling and its humidity clung to him like a second skin.  He shook his head in an attempt to clear the confusion. Nathan's eyes flitted about as a heavy dread filled his core. He knew where he was... but how? Quinn instinctively pressed his comm badge and his voice echoed in the cavern of stolen technology, "Quinn to the Arabella." There was no response. He pressed it again, "Captain Quinn to any Starfleet officer." Still no reply. 

Two Borg drones approached him. He was weaponless, but Nathan wasn't going to give up without a fight. "Nathaniel Jacob Quinn, come with us", they uttered in unison. Quinn turned to run, but two more drones blocked his escape. "Resistance is Futile", they hummed in accord. "Yeah, we'll see about that", said Quinn with a nervous laugh as he rushed one of the drones, knocking him aside. Nathan ran down the dimly lit metal plated corridor filled with Borg stationed in their dark alcoves. As he ran past them he could hear the whine of servos as they detached themselves from their bays to pursue him. "Captain Nathaniel Jacob Quinn, of the USS Arabella... resistance if futile." He could hear their voices on the air, thousands of them all in unison. He had heard them once before. They were chaotic when they spoke to him on the surface of Ter'Oss. They had overwhelmed his sensitive telepathic abilities. Believing that the unique geological formations of Ter'Oss had prevented his ability to filter the voices of the native peoples, Quinn returned to the ship. Yet it was not the Ter'Ossick who molested his mind with their frenzied voices...it was the Borg.

Nathan quickly turned a corner, his footsteps ringing out as they struck the metal decking as he ran. The frantic  officer blindly slammed into a drone, causing him fall back. As scrambled to his feet, he looked into the face of the Borg he had just collided with. The red beam of its ocular-implant scanned his stolidly, yet Nathan recognized the man buried beneath the mechanical components. His heart fell at the realization and tears welled in his gray-green eyes, "No... this isn't possible..." he said shaking his head in  denial. As panic began to take over, he stepped toward the man he once knew. "What have they done to you?" Nathan reached to cup the man's face in his hands. "No," he uttered in a doleful whisper.  The Borg who had once been Nicholas Took raised a cold, mechanical pincher and clamped it down hard on Quinn's shoulder. Nathan instantly felt an acute pain as an electrical current traversed the Borg's arm and entered Nathan's body, causing him to lose conciseness.

[Jen]

Joint Post by Jen and Just X:

The USS Arabella was thrown into chaos as apprehension struck the hearts and minds of the bridge officers. Captain Quinn was gone and for some of the crew, it was not the first time that a captain had vanished in the middle of an important mission.

"Computer, where is Captain Quinn?" Shouted the Andorian who had rushed from his position at the Science Station, to stand before the empty command chair.

"Captain Quinn is no longer aboard," repeated the impassive voice of the computer.

"Zremm to Commander Tucker, please report to the bridge to assume command duties. The captain is missing." The danger of the situation became all too apparent. The crew was not only missing her captain, but her first and second officers were still in route from the planet surface. The Andorian swallowed the natural tendencies of his species to deal with adversity through agression , and opened a communications channel to the returning ships. As he spoke, he made note of the two distinct subspace disturbances just outside of the planet's orbit.

"On my way Lieutenant. Go to red alert status and inform the XO of the development." Replied the slightly groggy voice of the Delta Shift Commander.

Acknowledging the orders, Zremm activated the red alert and opened a communications channel to the approaching runabouts. The claxon of the alert filled the ship and tinted the bridge in pulsing red light. The science officer wasted no time in relaying the ship's status to her first officer.


Sevryll felt the first wave of anxiety surge against the protective walls of her delicate composure. It seemed that history was repeating itself. She could not help but recall her first mission aboard the USS Tiberius. In that moment, what she buried in her core was the deep seeded fear that Nathan Quinn had befallen the same fate as the late Captain Bell.

Nathan was the First Officer aboard Tiberius while Gilbert Bell was in command. Yet after Bell's sudden disappearance, Quinn was thrust into the position of commanding officer. At the time, Severyll was the Chief Science Officer and the position of First Officer fell to her... whether she wanted it or not.

Sevryll's heart sank, Gilbert Bell was never recovered—would Nathan be lost to them as well? She suppressed a shutter. As it had with Nathan years ago, in the absence of the captain, command would fall to her. Yet Sevryll refused to be the next in line to inherit the Arabella. They would find the captain... she would not rest until they did.

"Arrange for a ship to ship transport, Mr. Zremm...Beam me directly the bridge."

"Understood, stand by Commander."

An eddy of shimmering particles coalesced to form the tall, slender form of a Ter'Ossick female standing before the viewscreen on the Arabella's bridge. Sevryll was still disguised as a native of the planet she had just returned from, and there was no time to remove the prosthetics. The Vulcan First Officer bent her golden-eyed gaze toward the human positioned at Ops, "Ensign, have Commander James transported directly to the bridge and the runabouts beamed to Main Shuttlebay."

"Aye, sir."

Sevryll then pivoted to face her Assistant Chief Science Officer, who still stood near the Command chair "Report, Mr. Zremm," she voiced in a crisp, yet unaffected tone.

Before he could speak, an alien beam scanned the vessel and was  followed shortly after, by a swarm of raucous cybernetic voices that echoed throughout the vessel: "We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ship...."

The icy fingers of the frigid declaration raked over Sevryll, "Shields up!" She snapped over their prattle, just as the second officer, still in his Ter'Ossick guise, appeared on the bridge.

"Bring us between the runabouts and the Borg," she ordered as she stepped toward the viewscreen.

"We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us...."

"Sir!  We're having trouble obtaining a transporter lock on the runabouts," reported Ensign Thorne from his position at Ops.

"...Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."

The ship lurched as the sphere unleashed a volley of energy at the Arabella. Sevryll stumbled forward as the Ops console exploded, killing a young human.  Within moments, Chief Ronan quickly confirmed the fatality and took the fallen man's position.

"Lock phasers and return fire with attack pattern James Alpha Pi!" Shouted Lieutenant Commander James. He had fought the Borg dozens of times, but those were all simulations. They had no room for mistake. "Target their propulsion systems with the phaser cannons and fire at will. Computer, mute that alarm!"


Commander Sevryll flicked her eyes toward Ronan, "Get them aboard, Chief! We have to raise the shields now!"

"Got them! They've been safely transported to main shuttlebay!" Ronan said as another volley from the sphere violently rocked the ship.

"That last attack caused heavy damage. Torpedo launchers and primary phasers are offline. Shields are up and holding at eighty-six percent. The Borg Sphere has taken significant damage to their impulse manifolds." Shouted the Lieutenant O'Tak from his position at the Tactical Station.

"Commander, we're receiving reports of Borg intruders on Decks six, seven, eleven and thirteen!" Reported Zremm.

"Mr. James, take a security team to combat the intruders and secure the ship."

"Aye captain," Aeric said and made his way towards the turbolift doors. Even as he quietly accessed the ship's computer systems, to prevent the Borg from controlling them, he could sense their dark technology pulsing from the decks below. They had to ensure that the Borg did not gain a foothold on the Arabella, or the starship would be lost and with it, the crew. Before he entered the lift, Aeric glanced to two of the security officers on the bridge. "Jackson and Ged you're with me!" Both men nodded brusquely and followed into the turbolift.

"Sir?" Ronan shouted to James to gain his attention, and tossed a phaser to the unarmed Second officer.

Aeric caught the weapon and entered the lift with his tactical support. "Deck Six! James to security.  I need additional men and heavy weaponry to meet us on Deck Six."

"Attention all hands," Sevryll stated with practiced Vulcan calm. "We have been boarded by the Borg. All non-essential hands clear Decks Six, Seven, Eleven, and Thirteen.... All security trained personnel, secure these decks."

The doors to the turbolift closed just as Sevryll ended her transmission. She turned to the flight con officer, "Mr. Wynn, take us clear of the planet at maximum warp. Without primary weaponry, our options against the Borg are limited. "

He nodded as his fingers flew over the panel before him. A series of negative chirps and tones sounded in response to his sequence. "Captain, we are having trouble generating a stable warp field, due to the interference from the subspace disturbances."

"Take us away from the anomalies at full impulse, and tell engineering that we need those weapons!" Sevryll said as she turned to face O'Tak. "Tactical, keep a close eye on the shields. While they were designed with the Borg in mind, this will be the first true test. We can't afford to let them fail."

[Jen]

Post Written By Jen:

An eerie silence washed over the Afterburner as a wave of green light sliced through the lounge and passed over each patron. Ryla's hand moved to grasp M'rynn's before looking up at the towering man kneeling next to their table. Dennis scooped N'Vall into his massive arms and stood. Though calm, his expression communicated volumes and without uttering a word, he nodded toward the bar at the rear of the lounge.

"We are the Borg..." came a cold mechanical echo over the ship's com system. That was their cue to pick-up the pace.  Ryla and Dennis rushed toward the bar as patrons screamed in panic and darted for the exit.  Dennis pushed through the stampeding crowd, making a path for the diminutive doctor and the children he was programmed to protect. With Sevryll's twins in tow, they dashed towards J'Dan, who had produced a side arm from under the bar. The Bajoran waved them past, and took a position behind the gloss-black slab that he worked so hard to polish the night before.

"You have one of those for me?" inquired Dennis in a booming baritone.

The bartender shook his head, "Sorry...this is all I have."

The sound of drones materializing in the lounge was barely audible over the cries of personnel. The children began to whimper in confusion and fear. "Shooosh.... It's okay." Ryla tried to reassure them, but the words sounded hollow in her ears. It was never okay when the Borg was concerned.

The ship shuttered violently, knocking tableware and customers to the floor.  Over the ship's intercom, the Commander's impassive voice did little else but confirm that the beings wielding various mechanical appendages were in fact Borg drones.  Recognizing their mother's voice, the children called out to her, "mommy! Mommy!" Their whimpers soon transitioned to sobs, and then wails, as J'Dan began firing at the Borg.
The deck shook again as the sphere fired upon the Arabella. Bottles of synthehol fell from their shelves and smashed to the floor around the Trill and the little ones she defended.  As bits of glass pelted them, the half-Vulcan children closed their eyes and pulled themselves closer to the doctor.

Dennis swung his massive fists against an advancing Borg. The Trill flinched as the giant man slammed the drone's head into the hard surface of the bar, and allowed it to drop to the floor beside her. Wide-eyed, the pale intruder trembled violently while servos whined and arcs of energy traversed its body. Plumes of smoke rose from the ruined Borg implants, causing Ryla's eyes to water and her throat to burn. As the drone's movements became stagnant, two more pushed toward them.

An acrid electrical tang blended with a heady disinfectant, indicated the presence of numerous drones in the lounge. One by one, their nanites flooded the bodies of fellow crewmates—plucking them from a world of autonomy and dragging them into the realm of the cybernetic dependency.

J'Dan readjusted the settings on his firearm as Dennis blocked the tremendous blow of a mechanical arm. The hologram then directed a palm-heal strike at the invader's face, shoving the ocular-implant deep into its head. The drone 's mouth gapped reflexively before dropping to one knee and falling across its dead compatriot with a fierce tremor.

The lighting in the lounge flickered off as power was diverted to the shields. The only illumination came from the soft, blue glow of the planet they orbited. That light was merely temporary, for the diffused radiance was dimmed again as the Arabella moved away from Ter'Oss. If one could spare a moment to admire the scene through the viewports, that individual might marvel at the ribbons of light that stretched beyond the ship, the beautiful azure globe that shrank in the distance...and the ominous Borg Sphere, riding their wake in pursuit.

Soon, the welcome sound of phaser-fire folded itself into the audible chaos of the Afterburner. A security team had begun to swarm the entrance of the lounge. After snapping the neck of yet another cyborg, Dennis turned to Ryla, "Move the children toward the exit!"

"I'll cover you!" Shouted J'Dan.

"We're sending the doctor and two children your way!" Bellowed Dennis to the security force.

"Understood!" Replied the team leader. Holding tightly to the children's hands, the Trill began to cautiously pick her way toward the defenders. A Borg that Dennis struggled with injected a tubule into his neck and nanites began to short out the orb that served as a permanent holo-emmiter.  Until that moment, only a handful of individuals knew that Dennis was a program and Ryla was not among them.

When the boy realized they were leaving the brawny sentinel, N'Vall pulled away from Doctor Drett to aid his friend. "No...Come back!" The boy came to Dennis's side and angrily stomped on the drone's boot.  The hologram's distorted voice echoed the doctor's plea for the boy to return, then he abruptly flickered and blinked out of existence.

J'Dan roared and fired at the drone, as it redirected his attack at the small boy. The green glow of an energy field enveloped the zombie— its shielding had adapted to the Bajoran weapon. Ryla gasped in realization, then pushed the girl behind her and seized the Borg's arm in a fruitless attempt to drag it away from the boy. The drone turned an arctic expression toward the petite doctor as its tubles stabbed into the boy and injected its poison into the squirming toddler. The Trill screamed in unison with N'Vall and M'rynn before the drone easily pitched her aside. Ryla struck the wall behind them and slid to the floor. Gasping for air, she slowly rolled to her side as J'Dan lunged for the toddler. The dazed Trill glanced back to see M'rynn hiding in the shadows.  Intent on aiding the Bajoran bartender, the doctor scrambled to unsteady feet. She swallowed hard as she stumbled forward—if she could reclaim the child, they might be able to reverse the effect before it was too late. She glanced once more at the small dark outline of M'rynn, and charged forward to rescue her brother.

Silhouettes danced about the room, making it difficult for the security officers to verify their targets. As golden beams criss-crossed the lounge, Ensign Bowers leveled his Type 3 Phaser Rifle at the Borg that, an instant before, had tossed a woman like a rag doll. He could still see the outline of the drone from his position, and waited for another beam to illuminate the room before taking his shot. He drew a breath in preparation. Sweat rolled into his eyes and his hands trembled slightly. This was Talon Bowers' first encounter with the Borg and his nerves were raw with anticipation. The moment came—the room brightened and he simultaneously squeezed a pulse from his rifle. During the nanosecond of discharge, he saw a woman fall. A heartbeat later, a harsh green radiance told the security officer that the Borg he fired at, had transported off the ship.

Ryla's pale brown eyes fluttered rapidly as she struggled to remain conscious. Their blurry focus was set upon the broken glass that blanketed the floor around her. The shards reflected the intermittent flash of phaser-fire and sparkled like the gemstones she saw during her last sojourn to Actun Tunichil Muknal cave in Belize .

The beautiful stones crunched underfoot as a pair of boots entered her view. Muffled voices spoke over her, and she felt two strong hands turn her over and lift her up.  The world seemed to decelerate, as people moved about her in slow motion. She had always preferred a leisurely pace but her medical mind told her the tempo was manufactured by a loss of blood.  The pain from the phaser blast was concentrated at her midsection. She moved a hand to her waist and her slender fingers met a large void. Ryla's sluggish mind lethargically thought of the symbiont.

As she was lowered to the floor in the passageway, the muted echo of a child's sobs grew louder and then tapered into silence as they moved passed her. The toddler was safe, but there was only one cry. Her mind shouted for N'Vall but her lips failed to form the words. She coughed instead, and tasted the salty flavor of iron. Blurred faces slowly came into view over her. She recognized J'Dan...it had been his hands that carried her from the lounge.  Susan Caine spoke to the Trill in a soothing tone and the hiss of a hypo brought numbness to Ryla's body. "Three CC's Merfadon, STAT", she senselessly muttered before choking out another cough.

The doctor felt cold, and her teeth began to chatter, but she no longer felt the searing pain. Ryla's eyes rolled upward, to watch the shadows that played over the surface of the ceiling. At first she thought the shadows belonged to her rescuers, but after a while she realized that they moved independently of their source. As they came closer, she saw that they had faces of their own, belonging to people Ryla lost long ago. They slowly spilled down from above to gently envelope her. Ryla's glassy-eyed stare shifted back to J'Dan and Nurse Caine, who did not seem to notice the beings who came to take her home.

"Come with us," beckoned her grandmother's voice. A smile pushed dimples into her cheeks for the last time. Then Ryla Drett drew a ragged breath and slowly exhaled—leaving her family on the Arabella to join her ancestors in the afterlife.

[Meds]

The alarm echoed through Josephs ears and he sat bolt up right in bed.

"What the devil is going on?"

He looked round to see a plate of cold fish and chips sitting on the table.

"Computer, this is Chief of Security. Report"

"The USS Arabella is on Red Alert. In action against The Borg"

D'Callan dropped from his bed and felt a sting of pain in his stomach, he looked down and grabbed a handful of chips and ate them quickly.

"Hmmmm tasty. Computer replicate me a unifrom for my measurements, hold on take an inch of the waist will you"

A uniform appeared in the replicator and D'callan dropped his medical gown. At that moment Nurse Caine rushed in with three other officers carrying Ryla's body. Seeing D'Callans empty bed she lay the body down onto it and activated the medical display. Turning round she saw the naked Chief of Security. Joseph looked at her and then down at his naked form.

"Give us a hand putting this on will you"

She ran over to him and helped him pull the uniform down over his body. he locked a belt on and pressed his thumb against a hidden panel. The draw opened and D'callan took out three phasers and a rifle phaser. He handed her one of the phasers and looked at Ryla.

"If they come in here use this and fluctuate the settings. Stay safe"

Joseph turned to walk off but Susan pulled him back, she took a napkin off the table and wiped a bit of chip fat from his mouth.

"Can't have you going out messy now can I "

She looked sad but winked at him and watched her old patient run out of sick bay before turning back and attending to the body of Ryla.

D'Callan ran down the corridor and tapped his com badge.

"D'Callan to all security personnel. Take your positions, security tactic echo 4."

As he got to a turbo lift the doors opened and he found several security men.

"Sir. Lieutenant Commander James has ordered us to seek any Borg intruders"

D'Callan looked at them and smiled.

"Then carry on ensign. Report to me on your findings"

Racing into the turbo lift D'Callan put his hands on his knees to catch his breath, the pain in his stomach ached again. He looked up and drew a big breath.

"Bridge"

[wraith1701]

K'Tan smiled to himself as the runabout Shadowfax cleared the atmosphere or the planet TerOss, the deck vibrating gently as the ship escaped into the vacuum of space.  He glanced at the away team members seated with him; all had done an outstanding job resolving the situation on the developing world. 

His cheeks flushed and his smile broadened as he looked at the trinket resting in his hand-- a small, jade-colored figurine of the Ter'ossik Deity of healing, rumored by the natives of the planet to enhance the skills of medical practitioners. 

I hope Ryla likes this, he thought to himself.  Never one for collecting trinkets, K'Tan had purchased the statuette from a native vendor with the hopes that it would please the Arabella's vibrant Trill Doctor.  K'Tan wasn't sure what his feelings were for the perky woman, but she had been on his mind a lot lately... Something about her stirred feelings in him that he had thought long dead. 

Tucking the idol into a tunic pocket, K'Tan swore a silent oath to himself- He would simply let the Doctor know of his feelings for her; of his interest in taking their friendship to a more intimate level.  If she reciprocated his interest, great; if not, well, at least he could rest easy in the knowledge that he had tried.

K'Tan's reverie was interrupted by a sudden, jarring shift in the runabout's trajectory, accompanied by the simultaneous wailing of the ship's red-alert claxon.

What the hell? he thought.  Looking up, he was greeted by the sight of Commander Sevryll being engulfed by the familiar glow of a transporter beam; moments later, the beam dispersed, taking the commander with it. 

"Status Report!", he barked.

"We have a bit of a problem, sir," the shuttle pilot responded.  "The Arabella is currently under attack by a Borg sphere!"  The pilot glanced at her comm display.  "Commander Sevryll was beamed aboard to lead the ship's defense!" 

As the crew members around him gasped in terror, K'Tan's fists tightened on his seat's armrests. Under the pilot's expert guidance, the runabout executed a course change so drastic that it stressed the ship's inertial damping system, causing the passengers to sway in their seats. 

K'Tan risked a glance out the forward viewport, and his blood froze- bearing down on the runabout was the cold, soulless form of a Borg Sphere.  Seconds later, the sleek, gray form of the Arabella filled the screen, sweeping gracefully between the Runabout and the oncoming Sphere. 
Like a mother hawk protecting her nest, the Arabella faced down the sphere. 
K'Tan felt a moment of vicarious joy as the Arabella's forward phasers lanced out; twin beams of coherent energy raking across the hull of the Borg ship like the claws of an enraged sehlat, leaving sparks and the outgassing of atmosphere in their wake. 

K'Tan's joy was shortlived, however.  Seconds after the angry gashes were carved into the Borg ship, K'Tan was horrified to see the sphere's hull repairing itself.  Like a bit of time-lapsed photography, the damaged areas sealed, and soon looked as good as new.

Suddenly, K'Tan felt the familiar tingle of a transporter beam.  His view of his surroundings faded to white, and was abruptly replaced by a view of the interior of the Arabella's main shuttle bay.  He, the away team, and the entire Runabout had been transported into the relative safety of the ship! 

Springing from his chair, K'Tan bolted from the runabout and ran towards the turbolift. 

"Bridge!" he commanded as the doors slid closed.

[Meds]

D'Callan looked up at the lights flickering past. Feeling more at ease he straightened up and watched as the doors of the turbo lift opened. He walked out onto the bridge and quickly looked to his left as the second turbo lift opened and K'tan walked out. The two men looked at each other and nodded and stood next to each other to await their orders.

[KingIsaacLinksr]

The bridge was a blur of motion as Chief Rava Ronan knelt down to check Ensign Thorne's pulse. The Ops Officer was dead. Ronan gently moved his body aside and took his place at the smoking, yet still functioning station. As Lieutenant James moved past him, on the way to the turbolift, Rava noticed the officer was unarmed. Luckily Rava had just come from a training sim on the holodeck, and still carried a side arm. "Sir!" he shouted and  tossed the phaser to the Second officer, who turned an alien face toward him and caught the weapon. Lieutenant Commander James' Ter'Ossick disguise was off putting, "I guess it would be too much to hope that his strange features would frighten the Borg off the ship", he thought.    Ronan turned back to his console then glanced to the viewscreen.  The weapons were down, and the Arabella was retreating. "How will we defeat the Borg now?"

[X]

There was little time for thought as the turbo lift descended. Quinn was missing the Borg were both on board and attacking them externally. Now he and the two security officers with him needed to hold the line and prevent any further loss of life.

"Aeric to Aurora," the commander said as he tapped his com badge. "Activate all defensive measures and notify me of any more incursions in the shuttle bays. Prepare to transport onboard pulse phaser pistols to my location at my command."

"Orders confirmed," repiled the feminine voice of the runabout. If need be, he would destroy the shuttle before allowing the Borg to assimilate it's techlonogies.

When the turbolift stopped at their selected deck, Aeric readied his weapon then looked to the security officers with him. Pulse phaser sidearms had been designed to pierce the shields of a drone, but as they were still untested in the field, they could mean the difference between life and death if they worked.

Aeric's eyes swept the corridor for signs of the Borg, but found nothing but empty hallways. Onboard sensors confirmed that their enemies were still several meters north of them.

"Move with purpose gentlemen. Rotate your phaser frequencies and let's get the Borg off our ship!"

"Aye sir," the men shouted with a confidence drilled into them by their very capable commanders. Aeric had no worries that they had been trained well, but he also suspected that they never faced the Borg. This would be a test for them as much as it would be for his theories for combating the enemy that slaughtered his mother's people.

[Bryancd]

K'ararth was surprised that he couldn't recall the last ten minutes of his life......

They had been aboard the Runabout when the alarm was sounded. The Borg. Before anyone could react, the shimmering effects of a cargo transporter beam and engulfed the small vessel and the materialized in the hanger deck. At least that much he could recall. Then the blood lust overcame him.....

He was 10 standard years old living aboard a very old K'Tinga class cruiser captained by his father, the son of the legendary Commander Kang, his grandfather. Although uncommon among Klingon crewed ships, this one had a few families aboard, a not so subtle indication of the lack of respect his father had among the Klingon Council. Son of a legend....a great disappointment. The sins of this father, of simply not being Kang, were visited upon the son. The other children mocked K'arath's slight stature and light colored hair. The blood lust had overcome him once then too and another young Klingon nearly died by his young hand. Never again, he had promised himself...

Until now. The Borg. There would be, could not be, any quarter give for there would be non reciprocated. His b'atleth was clenched his his sweating hands. How many times had he swung it? How many times had it found it's mark, cutting through the organic and cybernetic opposition which stood before him. It wasn't an energy weapon, they couldn't adapt and he allowed the blood lust to flow. Ten minutes of death had passed and he now found himself on deck 11 outside the doors to main engineering. They would be waiting for him here and he could not allow the Borg to control the heart of the ship. He steadied himself.....

[iceman]

Dr. Peterson materialized in the center of sickbay which was filled with acrid smoke from the short circuiting of medical equipment caused by the last attack on the ship., His staff was busy running back and forth across sickbay assessing the wounded as they began to flood sickbay. His heart sank as he saw the stretcher carrying the body of Ryla Drett, he hesitated for only a second before he grabbed a tricorder and began treating the wounded.

He glanced across the smoke filled room to see his wife, Myella working diligently to save a wounded crewman, Several crewmembers had phaser burns from being hit by Borg weapons and others had showed up with abrasions and broken bones from being tossed around like rag dolls.

Casey thought to himself, "This is going to be another long day" as he unconsciously clutched the phaser at his side.The one thing that Casey new about the Borg was that their attacks were very efficient and methodical and allot of people would die today unless they could somehow repell their attack.

[moyer777]

Counselor Margon made his way through the corridors.   As smoke and screams filled the air panic ensued.  His head was swimming with fear and concern.   When the word "Borg" was uttered it  changed everything even the most prepared officer.   As the red alert klaxon rhythmically pulsed throughout the ship the frantic motions of all involved seemed chaotic at best.  Margon made his way to his quarters only to find two Borg drones scanning the door as he rounded the corner.  They had detected his hologrid and seemed to be studying the technology. 

"Surely they have holo technology" he thought.  "Wait, this is newer stuff than they have probably seen."

"Mr Mouse!" he whispered.   Even though he was not a fan of weapons, he pulled a hand phaser from his pack, adjusted the settings and charged the door.  With one shot he took out the first drone as it fell and lay kicking on the floor.  The second Borg turned and began to come at the Counselor. 

"No you don't!" Margon shouted as he fired again.  But this time the phaser had no effect.  The multiphasic shielding had adapted to the rotating frequency.  Margon threw the phaser at his attacker and it stopped the Borg for a moment as it bounced of the laser eyepiece of the intruder.  The door opened and the counselor rushed through it pushing the Borg to the ground. 

They both hit the ground hard and parts of the drone went flying off.  The counselor felt pain on his legs and chest as the borg armor was pointed and hard.  He scrambled up and sat on the attackers chest.

For a moment the counselor hesitated.  Then, as if in a playground fight, he began to go crazy on the drone.  He pulled wires, jabbed at openings on the armor and began to hit the head of the Borg on to the floor.  By this time they had slid into his quarters and the door had shut.  It actually appeared that the counselor was having success in disabling his attacker when he felt a burning sensation  at the base of his neck. 

"Ohhh Ahhhh!" the counselor yelled in pain.

The two probes had extended from the drone's arm and were piercing his neck. 

He felt a wave of nausea come over him.

"No, this can't happen!" he muttered.  He felt his hands around the drones neck squeezing.  The drone lost consciousness, as the counselor became dizzy.  His hands let free of the Borg and he fell off of the drones chest on to his side and quivered.  He could feel the nano probes coursing through his blood.  His mind became jumbled with panic and fear, yet in a strange way there was a logic to it all.  It was becoming ordered.  His eyelids became heavy and he couldn't move his limbs.  He could see the dead drone next to him, he could still hear the sounds of ship being assimilated, but he couldn't do a thing about it.  He was in his quarters removed from the direct battle and he was scared.

He could hear the meowing of Mr. Mouse, his cat by his ear.  The animal knew something was wrong, but in all it's efforts couldn't rouse the counselor.  He hopped over the Bolian and stared into his eyes nudging his face.  A tear rolled from Margon's eyes as everything faded black.

[wraith1701]

Back on the bridge, K'Tan braced himself against the bulkhead as the deck shook under his feet.  The forward viewscreen  strobed as the Borg continued their relentless onslaught, each shot straining the Arabella's shields to the breaking point.  K'Tan glanced to his side at Lt. D'Callen, then did a double take.  Unlike the remainder of the away team members, his friend's surgical alterations had been reversed; he seemed to be back to his old self. 

"How did you get your Ter'Oss disguise removed so quickly?" K'Tan asked.

D'Callen quirked a smile.  "I had a bit of an adventure down on Ter'Oss, and had to return to the ship early."  D'Callen gave K'Tan a friendly slap on the back.  "It's a long story, my friend; perhaps I can tell you about it later over a couple of pints." 

K'Tan nodded, and replied "Of course.  We'd probably better deal with our little infestation problem first."

K'Tan's gaze swept the bridge stations- each was currently occupied by frantically working crew members.  He started towards tactical, then stopped himself.  He was pleasantly surprised to see the station manned by his protege Lt. Otak.  Despite the crisis the ship faced, K'Tan managed a brief smile.  He'd always considered Otak to be something of a genius when it came to tactical systems, and lately, the junior officer had started to overcome his insecurities, becoming more and more comfortable assuming positions of leadership. 

K'Tan turned to address Commander Sevryll.  "The tactical station seems to be in good hands.  If it's alright with you, I think my talents would be best used dealing with our intruders."

"By all means; carry on," the XO replied. 

K'Tan turned to D'Callen.  "Come on, let's see if we can clear out some of the vermin."

As the pair jogged towards the turbolift, K'Tan cracked an evil grin. 

"Whoever takes out the fewest Borg buys the first round of drinks!"

[ElfManDan]

The sound of alarms rang in Reese's ears, he looked down the hall for Fissual who was supposed to meet him there at the end of his shift in the lab. Up the hallway, down the hallway, no sign of him anywhere. What's going on Reese thought as the red light flashed in his eyes. Then the ship wide comm began to blare. The Borg he thought. He had never ever seen the Borg and began to get curious what was going on. He walked to the nearest screen to try to get a visual on the current situation.

"Computer,..." Before he could get another word in the systems came to a sudden halt and the light died. "Computer?" his nervous voice echoed in the dark hall. The hall shook around him. He caught his balance and stood there in the dark trying to find some sort of light. He heard footsteps from down the hall coming closer to him.

"Fissual, that you?" He looked into the dark of the noise and he knew it wasn't his furry friend. A bright red laser pieced the darkness.

He looked at the light, not sure exactly who or what it was. The Borg, is it the Borg? he thought. Then the voice he had never actually heard, but in recordings and nightmares, "You will be assimilated." There was no real thought in his next move, he just ran. Feeling his way down the dark corridors. He had no idea where he was going, he just knew he had to get away, but he didn't get far. Rounding the corner to the bright emergency light and the red laser of another drone. There for the first time did Reese see a real Borg. He tried to turn and run the other way. He had no means to fight and he didn't want to. He failed to get away, his sudden turn had caused him a lack of balance and he crashed onto the floor. His eyes turned to see two wire like needles emerge from the Borg's wrist.

Reese felt them dig into his neck. It was one of the most painful things he had ever felt. So this is how it ends he thought. The wires weren't in his neck a second before his fussy eyes saw a large monster of a man tackling the Borg. His focus was beginning to return, but he thought he was still in a state of confusion as he saw the Sasquatch smash the Borg to pieces. He wasn't sure what to make of it until  it was over and the hairy hand reaching down to him. "Reese?"

"Fissual!" Reese wasn't sure what was more surprising his friend the Sasquatch or the once Borg now scrap-metal. "What was that?"  He was shocked looking around them.

"Part of my family heritage, we like to wrestle each other a bit. It can get a bit ruff sometimes thought."

"A bit ruff?! Remind me never to make you angry." Reese looked at Fissual then down at the Borg remains, "I'm just glad you're on my side. I don't know what I'd do if you had showed when you did."

"Well I couldn't let you die, who would I talk to."

[Jen]

Commander Sevryll steadied herself as the ship rocked from yet another volley. The planet Ter'Oss shrank on the viewscreen as they moved away at impulse speed. Yet the sphere still pursued them and Borg Drones transported aboard before shields could be raised. The Arabella's weapons were off-line, shield strength was steadily decreasing and warp was not available.  If the Vulcan considered superstition to be anything other than a set of irrational beliefs, Sevryll would have believed the crew to be cursed with bad luck....

Locks of tousled blue Ter'Osick hair, fell from the bronze fastener she wore at the nape of her neck.  The Vulcan pushed a loose strand behind an elongated prosthetic ear and pointed a blue finger at the console before her. "An Asteroid belt is located here. The irons, stony-irons, and chordates that make up the rubble, are magnetized." She turned amber eyes to meet Zremm 's concerned expression. "How long would the sphere's sensors be affected by the magnetic field, before they're able to compensate for the disruption?" She glanced up at his shock of white hair and noted the nervous position of his antennae. "An approximation will suffice, Zremm," said the Vulcan in a supportive tone. She had known the Andorian for years. They met at a Logic Conference on her homeworld, and it was Zremm's fascination with Surakian philosophy that became the catalyse of their unique friendship. When the need for an Assistant Chief Science Officer arose, the Andorian's inquisitive nature and rational mind were the traits Sevryll considered first, before she offered the position to him. It was in times like these that she was most appreciative that he accepted her offer. 

His antennae pivoted forward in thought, and after a moment replied in a non-committal tenor,  "fifty minutes at most."

Would that be long enough to make the necessary repairs and devise a plan of attack? They had no other option. "Helm, set course for the asteroid belt. Take us in carefully, we can not afford to lose anymore shielding."

The new image on the viewscreen gradually grew in size as they arrived at their destination. The churning grinder of maverick rock enveloped them as they slipped inside the field. Colossal asteroids  rotated slowly about them while smaller bits of rock, filling the spaces in between, slammed into one another—creating an infinite number of micro-fragments. The fragments grazed the vessel's shields, casting a blue glow upon the asteroids surrounding them, as the Arabella swam into the sea of stone.

"Use the tractor beam to redirect larger asteroids toward the sphere." Sevryll was aware that the Borg would simply divert the course of the rubble, but if the rock collided with others... the sphere could be crushed between ricocheting projectile mountains. The Borg would have to be diligent in their response and it was her hope that their focus would turn from offense to defense.  They were taking a huge gamble that the Borg would slip up. But with weapons systems down, it was the only option they had to defend themselves.  If they were "lucky", it would buy them the time necessary to repair the damaged Arabella.