"Freedom
is Irrelevant, Self-determination
is Irrelevant,Resistance
is Futile"
The
Collective, The Best
of Both Worlds
The
Cube came within sight,
it was massive. At
least fifty times
the size of the largest
Starship that they
possessed. He sat
at the console starring
through the viewscreen
out onto it. Within
minutes they would
engage it and in his
mind, within seconds
they would be destroyed.
Tossed aside by the
unstoppable force
that is the Collective.
No one could stop
it, even this fleet
of forty ships – it
was not enough, nothing
was.
The
Captain gave the order
and he laid in an
intercept course.
He looked around himself,
the darkened state
of high alert, made
it difficult to see
everyone clearly.
It was supposed to
help you concentrate
on your task in a
crisis, but to him,
it was just distracting.
The Cube on the screen
became larger and
larger as they moved
closer, suddenly over
the communications
channels came the
unmistakable voice
of the Collective,
"We
are the Borg, you
will be assimilated"
This
was the sign to commence
firing. His task was
basically redundant
now; the computer
would handle any necessary
manoeuvres. It was
only if it went badly
and the computer went
off line that he would
be required. He sat,
eyes fixed on the
screen, as he watched
other ships begin
assaults on the Cube.
He could identify
ships on which he
had friends. How many,
he thought, would
he ever see again.
The
Captain ordered the
tactical officer to
commence firing. This
was it, until now
the Cube had ignored
them, as it ignored
anything until it
became a threat. A
volley of torpedoes
left the ship, and
for a few moments
were visible on the
viewer, before they
impacted on the Cube.
These weapons were
useless against it
– the moment the first
torpedo, from the
first vessel struck
the Cube, it adapted.
The weapon could not
longer penetrate the
Cubes shielding.
There
was a sudden buffering
of the ship, before
he realised that the
cube had locked onto
them with a tractor
beam. In a few seconds
hundreds of drones
would transport onto
the vessel and would
begin assimilating
the crew. He jerked
himself into action,
pulled his hand weapon
from his tunic and
waited.
He
did not have to wait
long, the green signatures
of the Collective’s
transporter’s were
beginning to form
on the bridge – he
could distinguish
at least twenty different
patterns. The odds
of the bridge crew
being able to fend
off that many drones
was remote, and even
if they could, it
would just delay the
inevitable.
They
materialised; he pressed
the trigger on his
weapon and watched
as the drone fell.
He turned and fired
again, only to see
the beam being absorbed
into the drone – they
had adapted. The weapon
fell from his hands,
in awe at what was
about to happen. He
was going to be assimilated,
his individuality
erased, he was going
to become one of them.
How many deaths would
he be accountable
for in the future?
A
drone advanced towards
him, he backed away,
only to find a wall
blocking his progress.
In one last, desperate
attempt to avoid his
fate he lunged towards
the drone. It was
a futile manoeuvre;
the drone had strength
several times that
of his own, he could
not hope to knock
it to the floor. Around
him, he heard bursts
of Phaser fire and
the screams of men,
who had already begun
to merge into the
Collective.
He
hit the drone with
a thud which winded
him, as he lay at
its feet gasping for
breath, he felt a
cold hand grasp him
sharply by the shoulder.
As he was lifted quickly
to his feet, he struggled
in a vain attempt
to escape. Out of
the corner of his
eye he saw the drones
other hand closing
on his neck. The assimilation
tubules burst through
from under the skin
on its palm, before
he felt them stab
into his neck and
then retract sharply.
The drone loosened
his grip on his shoulder,
and he fell limply
to the cold steel
floor.
It
was difficult to catch
a breath, as he felt
the nano probes invade
his system. The strangling
effect they had as
they attached themselves
to his airway was
intolerable. He let
out an immense scream,
like the one he had
heard a woman screech,
as she was being raped
while he was on vacation
on Risa. Then he had
been able to save
her but today no one
would be able to save
him. Quivering he
lay, as the probes
bored their way through
to his heart. He had
watched simulations
of people being assimilated
at the Academy – the
way the probes take
control of your circulatory
system by dissolving
your heart and replacing
it with a few probes
which merged together
to form a cybernetic
pump, had always frightened
him. He felt the dissolving
beginning; it was
like the time he had
placed his hand over
his father’s blowtorch
as a child, only ten
times as intense.
His chest cavity was
going to explode open,
he was sure of it.
But just as quickly
as the dissolving
had begun, the pain
ended – he was able
to breathe properly.
He
could feel the probes
circulating around
his blood stream;
the sensation was
rather like having
a pulsating blockage
in his throat. Slipping
in and out of conciseness,
he was back at the
Academy, laughing
and joking with his
friends. Back then
it was all so simple,
no Borg, no Dominion,
only a peace which
had lasted more that
fifty years. He was
going to be an explorer,
search the stars in
search of a new species,
new planets and most
importantly experience.
Instead the Dominion
came through the Wormhole,
intent on conquering
anything in its path,
including the peace
which had existed
between the major
powers in the quadrant.
That had been five
years ago, since then
it had been constant
war – the Borg had
always been a threat
but now its assaults
into the Terran System
had become more frequent.
No doubt encouraged
by the weakened state
the Dominion War was
leaving the fleet
in.
Lifting
his hand to his eyes
he could see probes
congregating under
the surface of the
skin. The tingling
sensation there reminded
him of how he liked
his wife tickling
his feet and how he
would never see her
or his children again.
It would have been
easier for her if
he was going to die,
but he was not. He
was going to be taken
from her a piece at
a time. Suddenly the
bulge on his hand
burst open and a mechanical
implant settled itself
on the surface of
his hand. He could
see from looking at
it, that this was
where his assimilation
tubules would spring
from when required.
Then just as the pain
from the initial bursting
began to fade, his
entire body erupted
in a flurry of cybernetic
activity – implants
were appearing all
over his body.
The
pain was intolerable,
almost as bad as when
he thought his wives
father would refuse
to give them permission
to marry. Her father
had been concerned
that his career in
Starfleet would mean
that he would not
be able to devote
enough time to her.
How wrong he had been,
she had been with
him constantly for
the past four years
and if it had not
been for the risk
to the children, she
would be here now,
awaiting the same
fate as himself. Inside
him, he felt something
the size of a tennis
ball form; it thrust
itself up through
his neck and into
his head. His eyes
started to flicker,
as if he were in REM
sleep, he could feel
the blood in the back
of his throat; he
was dying. The ball
was tearing through
his brain, severing
the neural connections
and then he could
sense them being replaced
with new ones, which
suited the Collectives
purpose. Behind his
left eye was a swelling
like he had experienced
while boxing – he
had been Academy champion,
three years running,
before a Uridian twice
his size had destroyed
his confidence in
a bar brawl and he
gave up fighting for
good. He clenched
his fists as the swelling
pushed the eye out
of its socket and
formed a cybernetic
sensor in its place.
He could see clearly
now, not only the
visible spectrum but
infra red and ultra
violet too. It was
beautiful, almost
as beautiful as the
Falls of Atoria, on
Risa. It was fitting
that in his final
moment as an individual
he would experience
something of that
magnitude.
Finally
he began to hear the
voice of the collec01110100ive
invade his 01101101ind.
It was overwhelming,
he was finished, he
was B01101111rg. He
realised that he had
been foolish in tr01111010ing
to stop the Borg.
He knew that before
long everyone one
would be Borg, including
his wife and children,
he was glad that they
would be able to join
with him in this state
of perfection. Finally
he understood that
0011001001100101istance
was 01100110 01110101
01110100 01101001
01101100 01100101.
//agi.
[agi@fsmail.net]