It had been a long, hard few weeks, and Raan was bone-weary. He sighed and leaned back in his chair in the lounge, which had affectionately been nicknamed ‘the pit’ after several of the crew had essentially lived in here during the evacuation of Arriana Prime, living and working in the same space, even though it was one of the most luxurious spaces on the small ship. 

Dayne Bennett dropped into the chair next to him and handed him a tumbler. 

“Thanks,” he nodded, tipping his glass up to chink against Dayne’s. The strong smell told him it was llanarian brandy, the taste said it was nothing of the sort.

“Synthahol?” He asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Duty shift tonight. If I have to suffer, you have to suffer,” Dayne grunted.

Raan frowned. “When did you get assigned to charlie shift?”

The big man shrugged. “Switched with Nyla, so she could head out to the Frontier day parties when we hit the fleet yards.”

“Ah.” Raan sipped his drink, then slid Dayne a sideways glance. “You old softie. Days past you’d have been the first out there, ripping it up at all the parties.”

Dayne snorted. “Yeah, yeah… what are your plans for tonight then?”

“Duty shift,” Raan replied promptly. “Switched with Rennox so he could head out, presumably with Nyla.”

Dayne chuckled as he sat back in his own chair. “Well, we’re a pair of softies together then, aren’t we? Do you think we’ll make it in time for all the parties?”

Raan nodded. They were going to be late for the main events but should make the evening parties. “Should do, if the engines will hold.”

“Yeah, you leave my baby girl’s engines out of this!” Dayne exclaimed, and took a long swallow from his glass. 

Raan sighed and leaned his head back against the cushioned head-rest and watched the crew in the lounge. He could tell they were all tired as well, their body language was slower, the way they held themselves told of aches and pains driven by too long under pressure. 

It was understandable. The situation on Arriana Prime, then the situation at Farpoint had stretched them all to the limits. It was a good job they did have Frontier Day coming up. They all needed a break, and the festivities were the perfect excuse for the crew to let their hair down, before the Borg came back to invade or something. 

They sat in silence, watching Rennox on the other side of the lounge. He was putting up decorations and posters. 

Dayne leaned in. “Two questions. We have decorations? And why is he putting them up? He’s not even going to be on board for most of the day.”

“It appears we do,” Raan replied. “And he said he wanted to do something for the crew that have to stay aboard.”

They watched the yeoman for a few more minutes. Then Dayne said, “Bless him. Gods, he’s so naive, isn’t he?”

“Yes, and I’m glad for it. “ Raan nodded, nearly emptying his glass. “That situation with the Jem’Hadar could have broken him, but he bounced right back. Gave me a rousing speech about the importance of Frontier Day earlier.”

Dayne side-eyed him. “Seriously? You managed the whole thing without cracking up?“

”Yup. It was… informative.”

”I’d have paid good money to see that.” Dayne smirked and lifted his glass. “To all the precious little ones who must be protected at all costs.”

Raan lifted his glass in the toast then emptied the contents. 

“Right,” he said as he levered himself out of the chair. “I need food, a shower and a uniform change before hitting the bridge. It’s going to be a long night, and no doubt we’re going to have to fish some of our crew out of the brig in the morning.”

Dayne finished his drink, joining him to walk out of the lounge. “Don’t tell me, you gave Kovash the night off?”

Raan’s grin was evil. “Of course. This is the first time we’ve put in at Brahms. You don’t think I’d let them get away with the experience that is Kovash on a bender?”

Raan made it to the bridge just as the Frontier Day broadcast started. He’d ordered it played on all screens over the ship that weren’t in active use as a morale boost for the crew. Everyone liked fireworks and the sight of a large proportion of the fleet assembled in one place was going to be an awe-inspiring sight. 

He settled into his chair, checking over the command logs as Admiral Shelby started her speech. At their current speed, they would reach the fleet yards in just under an hour. Which would get Rennox and the younger members of the crew to the parties just as they started to hot up. Raan smiled and shook his head, wondering how many of them were going to have sore heads in the morning… and his words to Bennett hadn’t been a joke. He already had an alarm set to head over to Brahms well before Alpha shift started tomorrow to recover whatever Resolute crew ended up in there. 

He listened with half an ear as the admiral announced the new Fleet Formation system. It was an amazing technology, even if he didn’t like it much. He liked to be in command of his own ship, not be a cog in a bigger machine. But… people had said that about technological advances throughout the years, on every planet. Just take the printing press, that scenario had played out on nearly every planet across the galaxy. 

He looked up as the screen went blank. “Comms… Did we lose signal?” 

“Working on it, Captain,” came the reply, a younger officer who had opted not to head to the parties on base. “It must be the distance, we are a fair way from Sol Sector. Lots of interference.”

“Must be,” he commented. For a moment there he’d thought he’d heard a male voice, rather than Shelby’s. “Hold on, I’ve got it. Back on screen.”

There was a moment’s pause and the feed came back, but this wasn’t the same calm, poised and collected Shelby from earlier. Instead, she looked panicked, standing as she looked at something off screen in horror. 

“Eliminate the unassimilated.”

Shelby was gunned down, taking two shots to the chest. Raan surged to his feet, fists clenched at his sides. Had they really just seen an Admiral murdered?

“Eliminate the unassimilated.”

“Cut that audio off!” he snapped the order. “And someone get me command on the comm.”

The comms officer didn’t move, nor did the helm or tactical bridge officers. 

“Eliminate the unassimilated.”

Raan’s eyes widened as the three turned in concert, their eyes blank and black webbing spreading over their skin as the chilling order dropped from their lips.

“Eliminate the unassimilated.”

“This is the captain,” Mason’s deep voice came over the comms loud and clear. “If you’re hearing this, restrict your comms to maintenance test channel forty-two.”

RJ put his finger to his lips, warning the three officers crammed into the tiny maintenance shaft with him not to react. There were… borg in the corridor outside, but as yet none of them had ventured from the main corridors. 

They’d been too busy killing off the rest of the crew. His expression tightened. Crew who knew them and had been reluctant to fire on their crew mates, or, more correctly, the crewmates the collective now operated like puppets. It had cost many of the Resolute’s crew their lives. 

He wasn’t part of the Resolute crew though, he didn’t know these people. Which meant when they tried to kill him, he had no issues with shooting them. He tried hard not to think about the fact that none of the ‘new’ borg looked to be over twenty-five. They were just freaking kids. 

“So far the borg have taken command of the bridge and all main strategy locations on the ship,” Mason carried on. It sounded like he was running. Hearing a clang on the other side of the hatch, RJ put his hand over his commbadge, muffling the sound as best he could, and shuffled back, keeping his phaser trained on the hatch. As soon as it cracked open, he was sending whoever was on the other side to meet their maker.

There were small sounds of fear, whimpers from the officers, two male and one female, behind him. One he was fairly sure had had dealings with borg before. She hadn’t stopped shaking since he’d found her, about to be gunned down by a junior officer. She’d been pleading with him. James. She’d been pleading with James as he’d been about to kill her. A nurse. Given the oaths medical staff took, there was an irony there RJ didn’t want to think about. 

There were more clangs on the other side of the hatch. RJ hissed, ice rolling down his spine. Of all the damn ships to get caught on during a borg takeover, he had to pick a fucking Rhode Island class. It wasn’t a ship, it was a mini-ship. It was barely the length of two rugby pitches for heaven’s sake, and not even as wide. He could have sprinted from bow to stern in under a minute. 

Which meant there were buggar all places to hide. This had been the best he’d found. And it wouldn’t get more than the four of them in here. 

The hatch cracked open and he let go of his emotions, his hand steady as he aimed. 

Mason appeared in the widening gap, a white-haired woman behind him.

“Fuck’s sake, Mason! I nearly took your head off then!” RJ hissed, dropping his hand. For all his glare and outburst, he was more than pleased to see the Resolute’s captain. The guy had already survived Jem’Hadar and having half a planet dropped on him, what was a few borg?

Mason’s hard expression cleared a little as his pale gaze flicked over the weapon in RJ’s hand to the three officers behind him. 

“You’re alive, good,” he said in a deep growl. If it seemed deeper than normal, RJ put it down to the heavy bruising across the front of his throat. “Come on, they’re sweeping the ship in a rotational pattern. We need to move.”

“Move to where?” RJ demanded as he clambered out of the tiny hatch, extending a hand to help those behind him out. Help… it was more grab a hold and haul them out. The female officer was almost catatonic, and while the two others seemed to have a little more about them, both seemed to have set like pretzels in the tight confines. 

“What’s the plan?” he asked, eyeing up the woman behind Mason. Tall and slender, with white hair that flowed down her back, she seemed to be dressed for a night out in a little black dress and heels, even though she was toting an assault rifle. He blinked, she had legs for days—

“To not get dead,” Mason replied instantly, then leaned in, his voice low in RJ’s ear. “And if Kovash sees you looking at her like that, the borg will seem like teddy-bears. Little fluffy ones.”

RJ refocused on Mason, registering his reply. “To not get dead? That’s the plan?”

Mason shrugged as the little group, which consisted of Mason, his white-haired friend who RJ really hoped wasn’t a starfleet officer, and eight other officers from various departments, headed off down the corridor. 

“If you’ve got a better one, I’m all ears,” he said. “Short of blowing up the shi—“

“You not blowing up ship!” Kovash replied, glaring over her shoulder. RJ sucked in a breath. Holy hells, she was stunning. “Bennett not let you.”

“Moon’s tits,” Mason hissed, and RJ was surprised to see frustration on the big captain’s face. “You’re agreeing with Bennett? The end really is nigh. I said blowing up the ship was the last resort, didn’t I? Remember, these people are our crew. It’s not their fau—“

He was cut off as a trio of borg-affected younger officers rounded the corner and started firing at them.

“Eliminate the unassimilated.” 

Mason had faced many enemies in his time, and fought with both words and all manner of weapons, but he’d never been in a battle like this. 

“Take cover!” he bellowed the order, but it was unnecessary. The group behind him had already scattered, cramming themselves into the scant protection offered by the support struts of the corridors. They didn’t even have time to get to any of the doorways before the borg were on them. 

The borg… their own crew. 

Mason hissed and half-ducked as the three borg fired at them, picking off one of the group with RJ with laser-like precision. They were all junior officers, ensigns Howett, Riat-Venez, and Tovash. 

He grit his teeth, firing back. Tovash span in place and went down, his slide down the wall of the corridor marked by a red smear. 

“Fall back!” Mason shouted, still firing as the borg advanced. Howett had always been shit on the range, but now he was sharp as a sniper. 

Mason made sure to get himself between the borg and the fleeing crewmembers, making himself the biggest target. Which wasn’t difficult, given his size. 

But to his surprise, RJ appeared next to him, joining the fight against the borg with an efficiency Mason hadn’t expected. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded, turning his shoulder and covering his head as the console next to him exploded. “Get back with the others!”

“Not happening!” RJ shot back, giving him a hard look that rocked Mason back on his heels. “You think I’m letting you take all the glory this time?” 

Mason blinked as RJ dropped the other two borg in quick succession. Damn, the guy could actually shoot. 

“Glory?” He looked at RJ, stunned. “You dropped half of a planet on me! I pissed blood for three days! You call that glory?!”

“Yeah, well,” RJ shrugged it off. “Come on, we need to keep moving.”

Mason shook his head as he turned and followed the other officer. He wasn’t even sure why Reese-Riggs was on his ship in the first place, but when they turned the corner, he was grateful for the presence of another capable command officer. 

It was carnage. 

At least ten bodies were scattered on the floor between them and the next intersection. Raan paused and swallowed, hard, the group around him doing the same. 

He looked from one to the next, noting their names silently. The nearest was… shit, he stopped, the wind taken out of his sails. 

His number one, Burton, was slumped against the wall, his phase rifle on the floor by his thigh like he’d just sat down for a quick nap. The burnt uniform and blood across his chest said that nape was permanent. Next to him was Gunnar, the Resolute’s chief security officer. It looked like the two men had set up a forward line to try and hold the borg back.

It hadn’t worked.

Burton. Gunnar. Taylor. Chatesham… The list went on.

“Hey, big guy,” RJ murmured in a low voice, catching his attention. Raan yanked his head around, meeting blue eyes. “We can’t do anything for them now. Lock and load. We deal now, then drink and fall apart later.”

Mason took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll hold you to that drink. Come on, let’s move. If we can make it to the shuttlebay, we can try and get clear of the ship.”

RJ stayed at the back of the small group as they made their way through the corridors of the Resolute. It was a small ship, but there seemed to be enough blood and bodies for a ship at least three times the size. He was glad he’d insisted that Aya leave the Resolute and head back on one of the family’s smaller transport ships. Hopefully whatever was happening with Starfleet was limited to Starfleet. If not…

No, he couldn’t think like that. 

Cutting that line of thought off sharply, he moved up to the front of the group as they reached a corner. There was a firefight going on up ahead. Mason gave quick-fire hand signals and they moved around the corner, only to find another big guy in a torn and bloody fleet uniform standing in the middle of the corridor. There were fallen around him, both unassimilated crew members and the borg. 

“Mason!” the other guy nodded as he walked toward them. “‘Bout time you got here.”

“Glad you’re not dead yet, Bennett.” Mason chuckled, pulling the other guy into a quick hug, clapping him on the shoulder. Bennett’s lips compressed into a thin line, pain flaring in his eyes for a moment, but when the two broke apart, his expression was clear. 

RJ leaned in, murmuring to Kovash. “Did they decide to staff the Resolute with giants or something?” 

“Llanarians.” Kovash snorted in amusement. “Built like barns, all of them.”

“Are they now?” RJ mused, eyeing up the two big men. Bennett was blond, and seemed a little younger than Mason, but not by much. 

“And that one dumb as a box of rocks,” Kovash muttered. “But good fighter. And engineer,” she added begrudgingly. 

RJ’s eyebrow shot up. As a rule engineers weren’t as dumb as a box of rocks, which meant that Kovash and Bennett had history. Definitely had history. 

 “Okay, we’ve got two type-8’s but that’s only a max of what… 20 if we cram people in?” Mason asked the big engineer as the rest of the team fanned out, keeping an eye on the corridor. It was quiet though, eerily quiet.  

Bennett nodded, his rifle slung over his shoulder and a padd in his hand. “Your orders have been repeating on maintenance channel forty-two and at least half the escape pods have been launched.” 

Mason grunted. “If there’s even two in each of those… make that thirty, and the shuttlecraft we should be able to get most of the unaffected off the ship. Okay, let’s do it…” 

He turned around to the rest of the group. “We’re a deck down from the shuttlebay,” he said, expression grim. “Let’s move fast and keep it tight. Expect resistance as we hit the shuttlebay. Apart from the escape pods it’s the only way off the ship so if they’re going to bottleneck us anywhere, it’s going to be there.”

 The group moved as one, RJ’s heart pounding in his chest as he took his place near the back of the group as Mason took point. He found himself side by side with Bennett, the big engineer, but there was no time for talking. They were too busy keeping their eyes and ears open as they headed up to the shuttlebay. 

 RJ half expected the borg to have scuttled the shuttlecraft, or for them both to be gone already, but there was still one there. His breath punched out from his lungs with relief. 

 “Okay, that’s good,” Mason commented as he waved them past him through the doorway. “That means someone else got out.”

 The door swished shut behind RJ, who was the last through, with an odd electronic chirp he’d never heard before. Turning, he spotted the gruff captain patting the door frame. Mason caught his eye and smiled.

“The Resolute is unique,” he said, already herding RJ across the shuttlebay. “She’s always got our back.”

 ———-

It was alone on the ship again. Finally. 

When the… other mind had arrived, it had moved from it’s favourite replicator and buried itself deeper into the ships systems. Stayed on the move and tried to help as the other mind took over the little minds on the ship. Not all of them. Just some. For what reason it couldn’t figure. 

Until the controlled minds started to kill the other crew. 

It helped. As much as it could. Keeping some doors shut and opening others as it helped the unaffected crew to escape. 

And finally, it was alone. There was only it and and big mind on the ship now…