It seemed strange beaming on to the Borg cube voluntarily; no one in their right mind would ever do such a foolish thing.  But that’s exactly what he’d done.  He was a stranger in the world they’d dragged him from and now a stranger in this one to.  Memories flashed of his first moments here, screams in the distance had told him he wasn’t alone.  Had anyone escaped that day?  There was the vague recollection of faces, people he must have once known; their names now lost to him.  The ship, yes they’d definitely been a ship.  The stark difference between white and pastel shades, compared to the oppressive eerie darkness and that ominous green glow.   What had they done to him?  Half man, half machine or was any part of him truly human any more.

He should have been as far from here as possible and just kept running, not back a board and heading for the heart of the Cube. The vessel was much darker than it should be; the temperature was still stifling but less oppressive than normal.  Alcove after alcove stood empty or with what remained of a Drone.  The ship consumed its dead; absorbing then bit by bit, finding new uses for the raw materials.  A Borg cube wasted nothing.  Life and death meant nothing; a drone was just part of the equipment and extension of the ship and the collective as a whole.  No one was an individual, except when things started to go wrong, as had happened to this Cube just a few days earlier.

Now it had a leader; a Borg designated Node One.  Even he was showing flaws in thinking and behaviour at odds with the collective.  Cube 4738’s original mission had become irrelevant the moment the Transwarp conduit had collapsed for reasons that were still beyond his or the ships ability to understand.  Protocol would dictate immediate withdrawal using whatever method and route was available.  Another Cube would by now have been tasked with carrying out all uncompleted assignments.

Instead though he’d gone about finding replacements for the many Drones this ship had lost.  But this hadn’t been just some random encounter with the USS Adriatic and the two transports it had been protecting, nor was the planet to which their journey would take them.  No, even though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, a human element had made these choices.  This was just a simple cold and calculated thirst for revenge.

One man had made his young life a misery, forced him to leave home and find a new life elsewhere.  That life had been with Starfleet until the Maranda Class ship he’d been on was captured by the Borg.  That man was his brother Robert Jefferson now Head of Operations at the Tatarus II Mining Complex. Having been the first assimilated on the planet; Node One was taking great pleasure in torturing the mind of the man who, in his eyes had made him what he was now.

When the two Borg finally came face to face; neither of them spoke for at least a minute.  “Why have you returned?” The voice of Node One not only came from the lips of the lead Drone himself but from the two Drones acting as guards either side of him and the very fabric of the Cube.

“This is where I belong.  I cannot be what I once was.” Came the Drones reply

“And yet you defy me.” The voice echoed and resonated.  “Why should I not have you destroyed like all other non-complaints’?”

“I seek the same as you; to re-join the collective.” He held up the equipment he’d stolen from the Jaxartes after his escape and before taking the shuttle; which he hoped the EMH was currently taking back. “With these I will help re-establish the link.”

“I will allow this.” The voice reverberated.  “But any attempt at sabotage or deviation from this task and I will have you ripped limb from limb. Do I make myself clear?”

There it was again; Node One kept using ‘I’ and ‘me’.  The controller of this Cube had started identifying himself as a single entity, rather than part of the whole.  They were both just as broken as each other. It was just only one of them realised that fact.  Both of them though longed to hear the many voices of the collective once more; the universe was too unbearably silent without them.

**********

Another beam of energy lanced out as the USS Jaxartes once more took evasive action to avoid being hit by the phaser fire from one of the four defence satellites.

“That was close!” Exclaimed Lieutenant Devron, as he watched a streak of red zip across the view screen before him.

“They’re trying to predict our evasive manoeuvres.” Lieutenant Stuart at the Helm responded. “Switching to Echo 6.” Only the fact this Raven class corvette was so agile and the satellites in geostationary orbits gave them any sort of advantage; using the curve of the planets upper atmosphere to reduce the arc of fire and only allow one to target them at any given moment, had also improved the situation slightly.

Ensign Tholakath continued to return fire, but the shielding on those satellites was proving to be as hard to penetrate as any combat ready starship; even a direct it from a torpedo hadn’t done all that much to dent them.  The dodging and weaving the Orion next to him was been forced to do was also making targeting a challenge.

Another shot grazed the shielding of the Jaxartes as the ship banked sharply to port. “It’s only taken them four minutes to figure out that pattern!” Lyanna shouted in frustration.  “Let’s try Gamma 2.”  She set the ship on a new pre-programmed set of course changes and the dance with death started all over again.

Three minutes and twenty-seven seconds later, they took a direct hit!  The vessel shook from stem to stern.   The light on the bridge briefly flickered. “Shield at 67%.” The Cardassian informed everyone. “A few bumps but no injuries.”

“Sir, you’re not going to believe this!” Ensign Cho called out.

“Go on Ensign what have you got?” The Captain asked her a he gripped the arms of his chair in anticipation of another tight turn.

“It’s our shuttle sir, and the EMH is flying it!” Cho answered.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Devron came back in surprise. “We’re is it?”

“I have the shuttle.” Tholakath shouted. “Barring 275 mark 078. Range 10 thousand kilometres and closing.”  The young Cardassian would have noticed the small vessel much earlier only he was rather pre-occupied by more pressing matters.

“Are the satellites targeting him.” Enquired Devron.

“Negative sir.  Just completely ignoring the shuttle.”

“Ensign Cho, order the EMH to fly our shuttle towards the nearest satellite.  And I’m damned if I know how he’s doing it!”

There was a brief exchange whilst the EMH tried to clarify what he was being ordered to do and question how safe it was and whether it was something he really should be doing, which came to an abrupt end when a highly frustrated captain yelled loud enough to be heard by the EMH and possible anyone else with half a light year. “Tell that trumped up microchip, if he doesn’t get is ass in gear, my ghost will come back and haunt him!”

The shuttle altering course was an indication that instructions were now being followed.  No one else on the bridge though was exactly sure what their captain was expecting to happen once the shuttle got close to the satellite.   The satellite continued to fire short precise bursts from whichever of its phasers had the best angel on the corvette.  Another hit was inevitable, and when it did come it stuck the ‘Jax’ hard.  With shield down to 38% and systems disabled throughout the ship, they wouldn’t survive the next one.

“We’ve lost the starboard impulse engine.” Called out Lieutenant Stuart. “I’m going to have a heck of a job avoiding the next hit.”

“Aft Phasers down! Added Ensign Tholakath. “Hold on, satellite dropping a section of its shielding to allow the shuttle to dock!”

“Got you!” Yelled Devron as he realised his desperate hunch may actually pay off. “Ensign Cho.  Tell the EMH to ram the lower communications array.”

**********

If anyone had told the EMH that morning; he was going to be flying a shuttle craft and using it as a battering ram to save the lives of the crew aboard the USS Jaxartes, he’d have first laughed at them, injected them with a mild sedative and declared the unfit for duty.  This action was just plan crazy and suicidal.  No one could hope to survive the impact!  The EMH laughed, as it realised were its own thinking had taken it.  No one was going to survive, nor was anyone going to die either; he was just a holographic program after all.  It didn’t seem long since his first activation, time flies when you spend most of it in limbo.  You only realise that it’s gone when someone decides to switch you back on.

So this was to be the last moments and the last act of Emergency Medical Hologram Type 3.2 serial number 001873.

The impact was heavy; it ripped the communications array clean off but in doing so the front section of the small shuttle craft caved in. The shuttle and the array tumbled away out of control, spinning towards the planets upper atmosphere before both objects turned to glowing comets of fire.  Anvil 2, no longer receiving instructions from its Borg controlled ground station automatically reverted back to standby mode.

The Cardassian tactical officer was about to ask the captain how he knew the satellite would respond to the shuttles arrival and wouldn’t continue firing despite losing its link; but the seat behind him was empty.

**********

Lieutenant Devron was standing next to Doctor Andrianakis; facing a rather confused looking EMH. “Would someone explain why I’m missing several hours of data?” It asked in its usual brash tone.

“You just crashed the ships shuttle into a defence satellite.” Jason answered him.

“Oh don’t be so stupid I can’t fly.  I’m not programmed for it.” The EMH replied exasperated.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll explain all the details later.” Devron replied calmly, realising the hologram now working off its backup systems would have no knowledge of how abrasive he’d been whilst ordering it. “I’m putting you forward for a commendation.”

The EMH was stunned into silence, it even sat down on the empty bio-bed; though having neither substance or weight the mattress didn’t sag underneath it. “Oh my!” It simple muttered a few minutes later.