Fransix Leski and Neeya Velix had parted in good spirits, as both headed to their respective stations on the bridge. She had acknowledged his sense of powerlessness when it came to decision-making, and his initial unease at aiding anything that had once been Borg.

Sometimes, Fransix forgot that Velix might appear like a young woman with a hairstyle that barely passed as adhering to Starfleet’s grooming regulations, but had the experience of several lifetimes, thanks to her symbiont. 

He hated to admit how talking to her had made him feel – not just understood, but beyond that, oddly warm and fuzzy inside. He didn’t quite know how to process those feelings. So he chose to ignore them. 

Still, the conversation had him feel a lot more relaxed as he settled back into his place at the helm. His eyes swept over the readout of his console, quickly checking for any changes that had occurred in his brief absence. But nothing had changed, aside from the fact that they were now closer to the source of the mysterious broadcast. 

In just a few minutes, they would be within hailing range. 

He could feel some of his nervousness returning the closer they got. 

Leski almost didn’t notice the senior officers returning to the bridge. Their expressions were grim but determined, and he could only guess at the weighty conversation they must have had. He thought back to his earlier doubts, and felt a surprising sense of relief that he wasn’t the one making the final decision on what to do. 

Captain Ceix took his seat in the centre chair with practised ease, staring at the empty viewscreen for a moment before he spoke. 

“By now, we are certain that the attack on the shuttle and the broadcast weren’t a coincidence. For the past decade, this sector has seen an illegal trade in Borg technology. These items used to be scarce and dangerous, and retrieving them was often not worth the risk. But now, with new sources available, the trade flourishes.”

Leski found himself nodding in agreement. It was the same context Velix has given him earlier, and hearing it confirmed, grounded some of his earlier apprehensions. 

“We believe that the vessel is part of a harvesting operation” Ceix continued, His voice was steady, authoritative, and commanding. A call to action. “And we have a duty to help those who’ve been kidnapped.” 

There was a moment of silence, interrupted eventually by Lieutenant Commander Keller, who had moved to the tactical station. 

“We are hailing range,” he noted. “But I recommend getting scans on the ship before we attempt to contact them.”

Ceix nodded his assent, reclining in his chair to wait for more information to act on. Finally, Keller spoke again.  

“Mid sized vessel, it looks like a reconfigured civilian cargo ship. Warp 7 maximum”, he said, his tone neutral.

“What about their defensive capabilities?”, Ceix asked. 

“Weak shields, reinforced hull plating, two phaser banks and one disruptor cannon. A single low-yield photon torpedo launcher. They are no match against us, and if they are smart, they won’t even try to engage.”

Ceix leaned forward and furrowed his brows. “They could have outrun us, fled to the nearest nebula. The question is why haven’t they?”

“Maybe it’s a trap?”, Keller suggested, his gaze briefly flicking up from his console to look at Ceix, who gave a slow nod. 

“I am not happy with any of this. Scan for any hidden vessels, I don’t want to run into an ambush.” 

“Negative, sir.”, Keller replied after a moment “They’re alone, but I’m picking up a warp signature from something that has moved away from the area. Not long after the broadcast.”

“Hail them.”, Ceix ordered as he got up from his chair. 

Comms opened a channel, and for a few seconds, they were met with silence. It was too early to say that they weren’t responding, but the seconds seemed to stretch unbearably until finally, the viewscreen came to life. 

The backdrop of stars resolved to reveal a young man seated on a dimly lit bridge. 

For a moment, Leski stared at the image. Behind the man, consoles appeared only semi-functional, outdated, and clearly scavenged from vessels of varying origin. What Leski immediately noted was that the man seemed to be around his age, though his face was gaunt and pale, and his hands were trembling. 

And he was alone. There was no one else visible on the bridge. No Commanding Officer to lead the exchange. 

Leski couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like for him to have to handle such a conversation, and he didn’t like the idea at all.

Erek, the pilot of the other vessel, was nothing short of terrified of the imposing Captain. His presence triggered within him an odd longing for a life that was … better. Questions he had long banished from his mind started to pop up again –  what would have happened if he hadn’t failed his entrance exam to the Academy, or had the guts to try again. Would he be on the other side of this? 

“My name is Aldris Ceix, Captain of the USS Callisto.”, the man said with a firm voice. “We received a broadcast from your vessel.”

“This is the ISS Asklepios. My name is Erek.”, he said meekly, struggling to maintain eye contact. 

“Erek.”, the Captain repeated, letting the name linger for an uncomfortable long moment. “Where is your Captain?” 

Erek swallowed hard, trying to sort through the chaos in his mind. The Captain – Mahok – had left. But no, they had a new Captain. Someone they all wanted to blame. 

“She is injured.”, he said evenly, struggling to keep the tremor from his voice. And then something clicked. “I… I sent you the broadcast. I couldn’t let them continue what they were doing here… “

Ceix inclined his head. “What happened on your ship? Where is the rest of the bridge crew?”

Erek took a shaky breath.

“I sent the broadcast and then everything started to be chaos. We tried to fight back! ”, his voice faltered.  “The Captain got shot, but she’s alive. Her right hand and some of the others took a shuttle and left. Now we’re alone.”

He just hoped it was true, and that Halden had followed through with her plan. 

“Lower your shields so we can beam on board. We will help you.”, Ceix said calmly. 

Erek glanced at his console, his pulse racing. He could lower the shields, but Halden hadn’t given him the all-clear yet, and he knew he had to stall.

“I am trying, really. It might take a few minutes.”, he said, his voice taking a high pitch as he pressed a few random buttons on his console to look busy.

“Why the delay?”, asked another voice, this one sharp and belonging to someone Erek quickly identified as a Security Officer. 

Erek froze. He had to figure out an excuse, and he had to do it very quickly. 

“The shield matrix is unstable,” he blurted, feigning frustration. “When the Captain was injured, she disabled several key systems to prevent a takeover. I’ve been trying to bypass the failsafes, but the system isn’t responding properly. If I lower the shields now, I might destabilize the entire power grid.”

He glanced at Ceix’s image on the screen, praying his story would hold. “Please, just give me a few more minutes – I’m working as fast as I can.”

“I see.”, said Ceix, though he did neither seem pleased, nor convinced. He turned to the officer who had spoken. 

“Commander Keller, get your away team ready. Take medical support with you.”

“Aye sir.”, Keller responded, already moving to comply.

Ceix’s attention shifted back to Erek. “How many people are left on your vessel?”

Erek hesitated, quickly doing the math in his head. There was Halden, himself, Tarrik, and Rynn. Then there was their “Captain”, and then the Draxon and his guards. Draxon who, hopefully, was already disposed of. “Eight people.”, he answered finally.

Ceix’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What about the people your ship has taken prisoner? Are they alive?”

The Borg. In his panic, Erek had basically forgotten about them. He knew the last hunt had been mere hours ago – there was no way the individuals were already processed. Not after what had happened in the surgical suite. 

“Most of them.”, he said vaguely. 

“Are they safe?” Ceix pressed.

Erek forced himself to nod. “Yes, they are locked up.”

And he hoped that was true. Because while a confrontation with Starfleet was terrifying enough, the thought of facing angry Borg chilled him to the core. Even if they were ‘turned back’, weakened and outnumbered, they were still Borg.