Shadows of the Night, Part X

Lieutenant Commander Seven of Nine stood at her post at Science Station 1 as they prepared for the horrible moment that was to come. She had faced the Borg time and time again since her escape from the Collective, yet now, there was something that chilled her to the bone. Maybe it was because of her blowing up at Luke, or maybe it was because of the engrams, or maybe she'd just finally realized how much she truly had to lose.

"Fifty-one Cubes approaching out of hyperspace," Lt. Travis said.

"All hands," Riker said, "stand by for engagement." The Borg fleet dropped out of hyperspace; it was a sight nightmares are made of. "Here comes the speech," he said under his breath.

"No," Seven said, so quietly no one heard her. "Not this time."

The voice came on all channels and all frequencies. It was as chilling as it always was, a litany without emotion. It was the epitome of what the Borg were: cold, unified, and uncompromising. "We are the Borg. You will-"

"-disarm all weapons," Seven said quietly. "You will lower your shields and surrender this station." Riker stared hard at her. "If you attempt to intervene, we will destroy you. Resistance is futile."

"Commander, what the hell is going on?" Riker demanded.

Seven shivered. "Suffice to say I have spoken these words before." She focused; she was a senior officer with a duty to preserve this ship and the Federation, and she would not fall short of perfection. "We may have an advantage, captain. Their sole interest is in the station, we have not been targeted for assimilation, not yet. Hit and run tactics should provide some measure of effectiveness."

Riker stared at her for several seconds. "You heard the commander," he said loudly. "Helm, keep us mobile, Tactical, I want us looking for targets of opportunity. Are we ready?"

"Aye sir," Travis said. "Phasers and shields set to rotating modulations. All torpedo bays are prepped."

Seven watched as the Millennium Falcon and an X-Wing flew past the Enterprise. In a fight like this, every ship mattered, but seeing the tiny fighter brought her apprehension back. He was a Jedi, he had destroyed a Death Star with one of those... but all she could picture was him lying on the floor in her arms, body smoking in the wake of the Emperor's onslaught. As powerful as he was, he wasn't invincible... he was just a human being. She set her jaw; he was fighting in a one-man craft that barely qualified as being shielded. She was on the Federation flagship. If he wasn't afraid, why should she be? The Borg know no fear; that was their advantage. But they also didn't know resolve; and that was her advantage. "Captain," she said. "I recommend concentrating fire solely upon tractor emitters and weapon emplacements."

"You see a weakness?" Riker asked.

"No," Seven said. "But the Borg's primary objective requires both. Regenerating those systems will require a greater devotion of the Borg's resources-"

"-leaving less attention to hit us with," Riker said. "Good thinking. Travis?"

"On it, captain," Travis said.

Riker nodded, watching the Borg Cube on the screen with the fixation of a bitter veteran. "Fire at will."

"I think we're in trouble," Han remarked to Chewie as he looked at the advancing Borg fleet. Never had he seen so many Borg ships all at once; and he'd thought Yarval was bad? This was insane. "Luke," he said over their private comm, "I don't know what we hope to accomplish here; we're way outgunned."

"I know," Luke replied, his own voice tense. "But the station's sending in all the fighters they have, we can offer some assistance there."

"What good's a fighter going to do against that?"

"That's what we said at Yavin," Luke reminded him.

"Great, let me know if you find a reactor port," Han said. "Just be careful." He killed the comm, looking over at his Wookiee co-pilot. "I've got a bad feeling about this." Chewie barked his agreement. The Falcon twisted around and joined up with a squadron of A-Wings that were heading towards the Cube. It grew larger and larger through the viewport. "A real bad feeling," he mumbled.

The Cubes approached in groups of five, two in front, three behind. The guns on the surface of the station swiveled around and began firing their deadly green bolts at the Borg ships. The Republic had anticipated a potential attack and made several modifications to these turbolaser batteries. They pounded away at the first approaching Cubes, their deadly energy vaporizing large chunks of the approaching vessels, which continued on and on despite the damage and the obvious threat that these weapons possessed. As various shields failed hundreds of drones were sent flailing out into the vacuum of space, yet still they pushed onwards. One, two, then three of the Cubes began erupting under the sustained bombardment and exploded. But the loss had not been for nothing. The Borg analyzed the turbolaser damage, dissected it, and determined how they had been changed. And then, naturally, they adapted.

The Enterprise sailed along with a small group of Federation ships towards one of the Cubes. These weapons the Collective was all too familiar with, but they still had enough energy to penetrate their shields. Small green starbursts appeared where the torpedoes hit, vaporizing the targets and tearing pits into the hull of the Cube. After a few minutes the Cube's front was cratered with the remains of these attacks, yet still it continued.

"We're damaging them," Lt. Travis said.

"But not enough," Seven replied from her science station. "The Borg are regenerating even as we attack. Based on current rates, I estimate it will take over three thousand torpedoes to render the Cube inoperable."

"Can we interfere with their regeneration?" Laforge asked.

"No," Seven said, turning her attention to the captain. "But as the battle progresses, it is my theory regeneration will diminish if we can continue to eliminate such targets."

"I agree," Riker said, "it sounds like our best shot. Divert all power to essential systems only. Push the phasers as far as you can; we can't afford to hold back one iota."

The Enterprise continued its assault, but it clearly didn't look good for the Federation. A series of concentrated attacks knocked the shields of the Yellowstone down, leaving it vulnerable for a Borg tractor beam that caught it during that critical moment. A concentrated phaser burst from several ships finally terminated the beam, but the Yellowstone was critically damaged. As she tried to restore her shields, five quick shots were fired from the Cube, knocking the ship this way and that with each impact. The last penetrated the warp core, and the ship exploded. The remaining Federation ships regrouped for another attack.

"Looks like you were right, commander," Riker said. "They have no interest in us, except as an obstacle."

Seven watched the events play out on screen, then looked down at her instruments to help her suppress her growing nervousness. Numbers. Clinical detachment. That's what she needed. "Once the station falls, captain, that will change. We are secondary targets; the Borg consider us a minimal threat."

"Then let's prove 'em wrong," Riker said.

Luke formed up with a group of X-Wings adopting tactics they'd heard the Imperial TIE fighters were able to find some success with. Individually they didn't cause the slightest damage, but together they could penetrate the shields enough to damage weapons emplacements, tractor beam emitters, and other important targets. As the Cube's shields fell briefly he let his laser cannons pound away at the ship, crumpling and deforming the metal outcroppings as he struck again and again until his weapons once again stopped against their shields. Forming up with the others, they attempted another attack run.

Han watched as a handful of Romulan ships fired at one of the Cubes together, adopting some of the tactics used during the Imperial War. As one ship after another was bombarded with Borg fire, they learned that it wasn't enough.

So far the large Mon Calamari Cruisers were doing fairly well, more than a match for any Cube. They let their full broadsides tear into the Cubes, devastating their ships, sometimes tearing whole Cubes in half. But the fact was, the Borg didn't seem to believe in giving up, and the vessel fragments would even continue attacking the fleet despite the fact that the ship looked as if it was beyond repair. What was worse was they seemed to adjust to the new Republic tactics even as they were changed, constantly staying a step ahead of the fleet. Obviously the Borg had assimilated Republic personnel, but this went beyond what Han could have imagined.

One of the Cruisers had been crippled, and Han watched as two Cubes began slicing it to pieces. He fired a few concussion missiles into an open shield vector, but the damage seemed insignificant compared to the sheer size of the Cube. Perhaps the best thing would be to cut out now, while there was still time. But then he remembered, Yarval, and how angry he was at what the Borg had done. Could he live with himself if he turned tail now? His jaw firmly set in place, he turned his ship into formation with a group of B-Wings that were making an attack on another Cube. Maybe, this time, they could make a difference.

Cube 019 altered course on a new vector, towards what the Borg called spatial grid 118-AA. Tiny vessels, mere meters in length, raced across its surface, trying to penetrate its shields. The combined thoughts of the Borg recognized their attack patterns, analyzed their threat potential and defenses, and considered their course of action. This took less than a second, and a series of beams were fired from the Cube, picking several of the tiny ships off. Like so many gnats, they scattered in all directions. The Cube continued.

The primary target was now below the Cube. The long-range and short-range weapons of the station fired at it, but the damage was irrelevant. The Cube traveled from battery to battery, repeatedly attacking each outcropping until the weapons were destroyed. Two other Cubes joined in at other points, settling into position to eliminate these defenses. By the time it finished eliminating all threats Cube 019 had suffered damage to 64% of the ship, with 42% actually destroyed. It was irrelevant. Instead the Cube began eliminating the shield generators through a series of concentrated ionic pulses. With the full attention of the Borg fleet, the station was left unprotected within minutes. The next would be to ensure the station would not be destroyed. With the shields down, that would be no problem for the Collective.

Colonel Yutani watched as one system after another began to fail as the charged particles overloaded their circuits and rendered them helpless. The last thing he saw before the screen turned to static was the looming shape of a Cube. "How's the battle going?" he asked the officer at the board.

"Not well sir," he replied grimly. "We've disabled or destroyed nine of their ships but with heavy casualties. Half the fighters are gone and the ones left don't have the power to do any damage. The Romulans have already begun to retreat and the Federation has suffered severe losses. Our cruisers are already being overwhelmed by force of numbers."

Yutani thought wearily. "Get me Admiral Cheliss," he said wearily. After a few moments the Sullustan appeared on the screen. "Admiral, we've lost all our defenses," Yutani said quickly, "Do you think you can drive them off?" The admiral replied in his native tongue; Yutani nodded in agreement. "Understood. I suggest you withdraw sir, we'll take care of our duty." The screen went dark, and the colonel walked over to the wall and pulled off a blaster rifle.

"What are we doing sir?" one of the aides asked.

"Order everyone to the escape pods," Col. Yutani said. "We don't have much time." He activated the comm. "Security, rendezvous with me on level 8 section 31C." He turned to his command crew. "We've got to destroy the station."

Chewie growled at Han as they darted around another Borg tractor beam. It was one after another, with no end in sight and no hope for the defenders of the station. Han had exhausted their supply of missiles and wasn't really accomplishing much when the message came. Despite the fact that he knew it was hopeless, he still didn't like it. "Get the nav computer coordinates for Romulus," Han said as he kept both hands on the controls. Gradually he pulled away from the Cubes and the fighting; as he went he saw the Borg descending on the station like insects on a morsel of food. He muttered a curse at their impotence, and struck the hyperdrive lever with fury when the computer completed the calculation. Once again, the Borg had overcome them.

Col. Yutani and twenty security volunteers marched through the station towards the fusion reactor control panel. With half the station's equipment fried by the Borg they'd have no choice but to input directly into the control panel. Only another twenty meters, but it felt like it'd take a lifetime to cross it.

"Sir!" one of the guards yelled as they turned a passage. There they were, at least ten Borg drones between them and the target. The Republic soldiers raised their weapons and fired. One after another was knocked down as they continued their slow walk towards them. As soon as the hall was cleared they raced forward. Yutani sprinted all the way to the panel, skidding to a halt and entering his command codes into the control panel. There's was a low sound, and he saw more drones out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw them, giants. At least two meters tall with a wide reach; one swung its arm and knocked two of his guards into the walls, their bones crunching under the impact. There were four of them, but the guards' weapons had no effects, and the drones waded right through them. Frantic, Yutani finished the command and entered the lockout code.

"Three minutes until detonation," the computer announced.

Yutani felt himself lifted off his feet and twisted in the air. He was face to face with the drone, its grey face lifeless in appearance. It raised its other arm and two tubules shot out and entered his neck, and he was dropped to the floor. More drones arrived.

"One minute until detonation."

Seven of Seven, Primary Processor of Unimatrix 104, pulled the panel off the wall, injecting its tubules into the circuitry, communicating with the pathways, searching for the program that activated the lockout. After several seconds it was located.

"Cannot terminate detonation sequence without authorization," the computer stated.

"Authorize," said Seven of Seven. "Yutani, Wulf, Colonel, Serial Number 11037. Password Besh-one-seven-seven."

"Authorization confirmed. Detonation sequence aborted."

Seven of Seven turned and stepped over its former blaster rifle and traveled down the corridor with the other drones. Soon enough, this base would be assimilated as well.

"Captain," Lt. Travis said over the din that was the bridge, "The Admiral is calling for a withdrawal."

Riker remained in his chair, his posture one of sheer determination despite what had been happening. "Ahead full impulse, stand by weapons."

"Sir," Lt. Travis said in disbelief, "The admiral-"

"The admiral's free to leave," Riker shot back. "But those are our people in those escape pods, and I don't plan on leaving them to the Borg's tender mercies. Engage, keep them distracted."

Travis looked in disbelief at Comm. Laforge, but if the first officer had any doubts, he refused to share them. "Aye sir."

The Enterprise streaked forward, quantum torpedoes blasting at a nearby Cube, their power great enough to partially penetrate the Borg's adaptive shielding. A concentrated burst of fire to crumple their shields, Riker thought, show them we mean business. An explosion two hundred meters across erupted from the side of the Cube. "Good," Riker commented, "Now take us around again, evasive pattern beta-three."

The Borg torpedoes pounded on their shields, but the Enterprise continued its assault, uncaring about the punishment the Cube had in store for it. Phasers and torpedoes tore into the structure of the Cube, digging farther and farther. A few Republic and Federation ships joined in the assault, ripping into the Cube.

The ship shook again from an impact. "Shields at 18%," Travis informed him. "Sir, we can't withstand this much longer."

"We stay as long as we can," Riker insisted.

There was yet another explosion, but no report given this time. "Status?" Riker asked, but there was no reply. "Mr. Travis, status." He turned, but Laforge had already stepped around the panel, checking the body.

"He's dead," Laforge said, indicating a piece of the panel protruding from Lt. Travis' skull. He turned to a nearby station. "Re-route tactical to this station." As he stepped the ship rocked with another explosion, knocking Riker off his feet.

"Our shield generators have been overloaded," Seven said. "I am re-routing but it will take several minutes." As if in response the ship was tossed about by the impact of another Borg torpedo, sheering the port nacelle clear off.

"Warning, warp core failure imminent," the computer sounded.

"Stabilize the core," Riker ordered. They'd done all they could, but the time had come. "Set course 181 Mark 20, Warp 12."

"I can't sir," helm replied. "There's not enough power for the jump." Another explosion, and a shower of sparks issued from one of the walls.

Laforge came up to Riker. "We can't stop the breach, the damage is too great." His disappointment was obvious and his next words were heavy. "We have no choice."

Riker looked around the remains of the bridge, but it offered no signs of encouragement. Finally, regretfully, "All hands," he said quietly, "abandon ship."

Seven took the turbolift down with the rest of the crew, but while they ran towards the escape pods, she checked on the members of her department. It wasn't in the manual, but Seven felt that the same reason she looked to the captain, they needed to be able to look to her, and to leave them would be a breach of trust. Fortunately, they were already either gone or on their way, helping the wounded among them. True they fell short of perfection, but Seven was pleased with them overall. As the last of the science department found its way out, Seven looked one last time into the room; she saw the Borg ship beyond the window. The Enterprise would be assimilated; she knew it.

She ran towards her quarters even as the klaxons sounded, moving upstream against those heading for escape. She had time before the core exploded, and the Borg would wait until the ship was already inside before assimilation began. She rushed into her room and found it, tossed it in the satchel she used on away missions, and rushed back out. She spotted two crewmen. "We must evacuate," she told them. "Come with me."

Seven led the way towards the escape pods, but then the sound came, the low descending pulse she knew could only come from Borg transporters. Three drones appeared, two in front and one behind; they must have detected the warp core and come to prevent the explosion. Seven pulled out her phaser and fired, sending the first down, but watching helplessly as it bounced off the shields of the second. There were cries from the two crewmen as they were grasped, but it was too late. Seven rushed forward but the drone grabbed her arm, and she felt the sting in the side of her neck.

The drone released her as she began to transform. Seven was gasping and groaning as the assimilation progressed. Soon her biological distinctiveness would again service the Collective... soon she would become just like it.

Luke's X-Wing pulled into a hard turn as the Borg continued firing at him. He fired off a few shots but knew it was hopeless. Most of the fleet had already withdrawn and those few who were left were getting pounded on. Twenty Cubes had already begun assimilating the station, and there was nothing any of them could do about it. The terror of the thousands who were here filled this part of space, but he did his best to ignore it; he was doing all he could, and getting distracted wouldn't help anyone.

He watched as the nacelle was ripped free from the Enterprise, a lump growing in his throat. The Borg were battering the ship around without mercy; of course, since when did the Borg show mercy? He saw the escape pods launch; someone would hopefully pick them up quick, because they were sitting ducks for the Borg.

Seven stood paralyzed in the Enterprise's hall, feeling herself changing as she stared at the drone; gray crawling up her neck and across her face. They were going to take everything away. The career she'd strove to build despite her heritage. The friendships, few though they were, that she'd forged. The thoughts that were her own, the feelings that were her own... the chance that one day, maybe he would say those words she'd wanted to hear. But it was all gone, and it was all because of them. She was going to become a drone again, an insignificant part of something else, without the chance to think or feel again. Her breathing was shaky, her eyes wide with fear. "No," she whispered. "I don't want to."

The drone turned its attention back to her; it did not show surprise, but it must have been unexpected to see the gray skin changing back to its normal flesh tones. It must have been more unexpected that instead of becoming docile, Seven lunged at it like an animal, shoving it into the wall. She screamed incoherently and struck it in the face again and again; even in the arena, she'd never truly used her full strength like this, but it was clear that any and all restraint was gone. In seconds, the drone was beaten to a sickening pulp, and Seven stood there, breathing heavily as she watched the body fall. The other began moving towards her, snapping her out of whatever had just happened. The anger turned back to terror and she turned and bolted. She ran to an escape pod; it was empty, but there didn't seem to be anyone else coming, so she launched it. There was acceleration beyond the window, then the blackness of space. She watched as what she had come to think of as home was torn apart by the Borg. The satchel slipped from her trembling hands as the full realization of the events sunk in. What had happened? Why wasn't she assimilated?

The drone and the two assimilated crewmen entered Engineering as the computer continued the countdown to loss of containment. They showed no concern that the ship was seconds from destruction as they careful went to work at the interface panels located throughout the room. As the countdown continued the core dropped through the floor and was ejected out into space. The drones, their task completed, were transported to the Cube, so that the ship formerly known as Enterprise could be consumed.

Riker's fist pounded the hull of the pod as he watched the detonating warp core, and his ship being pulled towards the Borg Cube to be devoured. "What have I done," he mumbled.

"Captain," Laforge said from his side, "you did what you had to do."

"She was a fine ship," Riker said, refusing to be comforted. "She doesn't deserve this."

"I know, I know. But if she keeps the Borg busy enough for us to escape, she'll have done her duty one last time."

"Captain!" Crewman Horace said suddenly. "Another Cube's approaching sir! Its tractor beam is locking on to the escape pods."

Riker looked out at the ship with complete helplessness. "Well old girl," he remarked quietly, "it looks like your sacrifice was in vain.

Despair gripped Seven as she saw the Cube coming towards her escape pod. It didn't rush; it was slow, deliberate, and unstoppable. It didn't come threatening, it merely came with inevitability. A pod was grabbed by a tractor beam, and Seven jumped at the sight of it. She looked at the Cube again. It was still coming, as it always had been; for five years deep down she'd known it would be coming, and now it had finally caught up with her.

It was Wolf 359 all over again, except this time fate had placed her on the other side. The deplorable acts that she'd performed there as a drone were now about to be visited upon her. She would be captured, and dragged to the assimilation chamber, possibly by some of the very people she had callously turned into drones. Whatever had gained her the momentary reprieve, the Borg would easily neutralize it. Her pleas for mercy would fall on deaf ears as they stripped away everything she had found again and turned her into one of them. Tears ran down her cheeks as she watched it approach. Her miraculous escape from assimilation had torn down all her emotional defenses, leaving her unable to cope with this horrible sight. "Please," she pleaded under her breath. "Please go away." It continued to grow beyond the window, and she could see the tractor beam emitter pointed at her pod. "GO AWAY!" she screamed.

Luke fired some proton torpedoes at the emitters, but to no avail; he just didn't have the power to penetrate their shielding alone. He could sense the fear of the Federation crewmen on board the escape pods, powerless to fight, terrified of the fate they knew they would meet when their tiny lifeboats entered that monstrosity. Another beam shot out and snatched a new pod, and Luke's insides felt like they were shrunk to the size of his fist. "Seven," he whispered.

On board the escape pod, Seven of Nine was gone. Instead little Annika Hansen looked up through the window at the Borg Cube, stretching far beyond her view in every direction. The seven-year old girl was now face to face with the entire Borg Collective. "Annika, run!" called a desperate cry from out of the past. "Run! Hide!!!"

She stood there, trembling, transfixed. There's nowhere to run, if they want you, Annika. There's nowhere to hide, if they want you, Annika. There is nothing you can ever do to stop them, if they want you, Annika. You are small... just a small little girl, standing alone in the dark... powerless to resist. You know it's true. You know it's futile.

Luke felt Seven scream. It ripped like a chainsaw into him, tearing through the hard-learned lessons of experience, through the words of his master, through his teachings to Leia, through the training of Selvik, and left the core of his emotion exposed like a nerve ending open to the harsh elements. Anger and love and despair and hope and fear and resolve and a thousand other sensations washed through him in that second and his thoughts ran together. Not her. Please don't let it be her. What have I been doing? I had time. I threw it away. There will never be time again. Why can't I do something? It's all because of them. Please. I want to hold you. I've been so stupid! I want to keep you safe. Could you forgive me? Oh Seven! Could anyone forgive me? Why do they do this? I'm a Jedi and it means nothing. No more time. Why must these things happen? Don't go! Why can't I make them right? What good is being a Jedi? Please don't hurt her. You've hurt so many. I'm sorry. Please not her. No time. You'll hurt her. Please. It's what you do. No! And I can't stop you. Stay away! I can't save her. I'm sorry! You destroyed her once. Forgive me. You'll do it again. All chance is lost. I hate you! Please! I hate you!!! Not her! I HATE YOU!!!

His gloved hand shot out without any conscious thought, there was only instinct. The tractor beams died as the Cube flew away across space with a lurch, as if it had been hit by something that couldn't be seen. It struck the Cube that had been tearing apart the Enterprise, and they crumpled together under the impact. Energy erupted from their surface as they twisted end over end across space, fused together under the pressure and heat into a distorted, nightmarish shape.

Luke's breathing was very erratic; short deep breaths at irregular intervals as he tried to get his mind caught up to events. His hands shook as he realized just what had happened. But he- but he had no choice. He couldn't just- What had he done? "Once you start down the dark path," his master chided him in memory, "forever will it dominate your destiny."

"Artoo," he said, his voice quivering as he watched the Federation ships swoop through the escape pods, grabbing the occupants with tractor beams and transporters, "plot a course for Romulus." The X-Wing turned and vanished into hyperspace with the rest of the fleet, leaving the Borg alone with their prize.

Go To Part XI
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