Chapter 22

“DEPENDING ON HOW strong she has become, it is likely that the queen will attempt to access all Starfleet systems,” said Seven. “We must alert Starfleet Command so that they are prepared.”

“Mr. Kim, patch Admiral Montgomery through to Starfleet Command,” Janeway ordered. “Ken, tell them to physically isolate Starfleet Intelligence as well. We’ve got to keep the queen and her drones inside that building. Everyone should wear envirosuits. It will offer them at least some protection from the nanoprobes.”

“I’m on it,” Montgomery said grimly.

“Should we suit up as well?” Chakotay asked. While they had been talking, the Doctor and Kaz had been preparing hyposprays. As he spoke, Chakotay tilted his neck and Kaz pressed the hypospray to his artery.

“It would offer additional protection,” Icheb said.

[244] “I would not recommend it,” said Tuvok. “They are cumbersome and would hinder our movement. And if the suit were ruptured in any way, we would be as exposed as if we were not wearing them.”

“Agreed,” said Janeway.

“According to Starfleet Command, she’s already accessed the system,” Montgomery said. He looked as if he desperately wanted to punch something. It was a sentiment Janeway shared.

“Has she locked them out?”

Montgomery was reading information as she spoke and said, “No, it looks as though she withdrew of her own accord. Now why would she do that?”

“Maybe she can’t handle that much information yet,” Icheb said.

“Lock her out,” Janeway said. “Tell them to make sure she can’t access those systems again. She’ll probably keep trying.”

Montgomery nodded and spoke to his contact.

Janeway tilted her head, felt the cold press of the hypospray. “Has everyone been vaccinated?” Her team nodded.

“May I suggest that we transport to the control room first?” Data said. “I may be able to access the computers and countermand some of her orders.”

“Good thinking,” Janeway said. “And I don’t think we want to show up in her office first thing anyway. Admiral, are you ready?”

Montgomery said a few more words to his contact, and then terminated the conversation. His face looked haggard. “They’ve apprehended Grady, and he’s spilling everything. It doesn’t look good,” he said.

[245] “I’m sure there were moments during the Dominion War when things didn’t look good either,” Janeway said, “and yet, you prevailed.”

When they reached the transporter room, Janeway entered the coordinates, fully expecting to encounter a block. There was none.

“That’s odd,” she said. “Why isn’t the queen blocking our transporter signals?”

“She wants us to come,” Montgomery said. “I know her, Janeway. She’s arrogant. She wants us to come and try to get her so she can have the pleasure of defeating us.”

Janeway looked at him sharply. “Sounds a bit personal.”

He grimaced. “It is. And we’ll leave it at that. Regardless, we’re walking into a trap.”

Janeway smiled. “She thinks we’ll be assimilated the minute we materialize, and she’ll have a whole new set of drones to play with. We may not have many advantages, but we’ve got this one.”

To Kaz, who was manning the transporter, she gave the order: “Energize.”

They materialized with phasers drawn, a wise precaution as their welcoming committee consisted of four drones. The away team fired, but one blast caught Tuvok in the chest. He staggered and went down.

Janeway and her team continued to fire. Almost at once she noticed two things: First, these drones appeared to have no personal shields, adaptive or otherwise, and second, the “full stun” which would have dropped an ordinary human instantly seemed to have [246] less effect. She had to fire twice, point blank, before her target dropped.

In a few seconds, the firefight was over. Chakotay was already bending over Tuvok and pressing a hypospray to his throat to revive him. “I’m surprised they used stun,” he said, as he helped the Vulcan to his feet.

Data was at the controls, already beginning to link with the system. The lights on his exposed skull flashed green and red.

“Processing ...” he said in a dull voice. Then, “She has full command of every system in the building. I am attempting to sever her control. I do not know how successful I will be.”

“She knows we’re here,” said Seven, “and she’s probably also aware we haven’t been assimilated.”

Montgomery nodded. “The drones may try to assimilate us the old-fashioned way,” she said. “We won’t be under her command, as the modified nanoprobes will block our access to the hive mind, but I don’t relish the thought of implants sprouting out of me.” He glanced at Seven. “No offense.”

Seven arched an eyebrow. “None taken.”

“Data,” said Janeway, “can you locate Covington’s office and show us how to get there?”

Data’s expression was fixed, his body stiff, but he entered the request. A map appeared on one of the many screens. Montgomery stepped forward and touched a few pads.

“We’re here,” he said, stabbing with his index finger. “Her office is here.”

“That doesn’t look too bad,” Paris said. “A turbolift ride and a few turns down a corridor.”

[247] “When she controls the turbolift and has drones positioned every step of the way,” said Chakotay, “it’s pretty bad.”

Not even Paris could think of a smart reply to that one.

Covington felt as if she were straddling two worlds. One was the world of the flesh, in which she could see her colleagues and speak her orders. The other was the world of the machine, with its sparks and data streams and bombardment of information. She was starting to understand how to maneuver in this strange place between worlds, though it was difficult.

A sudden jolt, and information was abruptly in her brain. “They’re in the control room,” she said aloud. “The android has accessed the computer. He’s fighting me.”

The drone that had once answered to the human designation of Trevor Blake turned slowly toward his Creatress. She sensed his thoughts as surely as if he spoke them: We will not permit him to gain control.

The EMH hovered nearby, consulting his medical tricorder and occasionally clucking his tongue. But he knew better than to voice his apprehension. This was it. This was where they made their last stand, where they held off attack until the queen gained enough strength, enough experience, that she was able to take full and undisputed control of the planet.

Another jolt of information, this time painful, like a needle had been jabbed behind her ear. “They are not being assimilated,” she said softly, puzzled. “They are not even in environmental suits and yet ...”

Fury and panic crashed through her. They must have discovered a way to prevent assimilation via the [248] virus-bearing nanoprobes. She had looked forward to bringing Janeway and Montgomery into her family as obedient drones, but if they were resistant, they were of no use to her. In fact, they were a very real danger.

Kill them, she ordered her drones.

It was the worst firefight Janeway could remember in her entire life. She hated fighting in close quarters, and it was made much worse in that many of the targets—she couldn’t bring herself to think of them as “people”—wore Starfleet uniforms.

Data was doing what he could. He had achieved moderate success in overriding some of the more basic security measures and had started placing force fields between Janeway and her people and the drones—which was a very good thing indeed, as Janeway saw that the phasers were now set to “kill.”

More than once, she recognized an old acquaintance staring at her with a pale face and blank expression. When she was forced to fire at what had once been Aidan Fletcher, who moments ago had been as human as she, she felt a deep pang of regret that was immediately replaced by anger.

Montgomery was at her side, muttering furiously. He was taking this all personally, she could tell, and she couldn’t blame him. If she knew a few people here, she was willing to bet he knew dozens.

There was noise everywhere, from the screaming of phaser fire to the sound of furniture and equipment being destroyed to the grunts of the Borg as they dropped. Janeway’s breathing was shallow and her hair was falling into her face. It was so hard to make so [249] little headway. The actual distance they had to travel on the map was insignificant, but it might as well have been miles. She thought she understood the feelings of the men in the trenches during World War I, as they clawed for every centimeter.

Data had been here before. Had been the only thing that stood between a driven, ambitious Borg queen out for conquest and an innocent, unaware planet Earth. He had long since turned off his emotion chip and was going on pure android functioning. He was a machine, as the computer with which he was interacting was a machine, and he moved more smoothly in this world than the queen did. He sensed her presence here, clumsy and awkward, with too much attention focused on one place and insufficient attention elsewhere. It was not easy, but he was able to dance with finesse. And the grace of an android among the circuits and wires was the thin thread by which hope hung.

He is knowledgeable and efficient, came Blake’s thoughts. We are unable to completely block him.

Unacceptable, his queen “replied.” His interference is assisting Montgomery and Janeway. They should all be dead by now and instead they are approaching steadily.

Blake’s face was blank, his fingers no longer moving like a musician’s over the pads but spread flat as he physically interacted with the console.

The android has blocked access to many of the security systems, even ones that we had previously controlled.

This couldn’t be happening. Her enemies were a [250] mere handful of humans, a Vulcan, and an android. She had two hundred drones, all excellent physical specimens, at her command. She had the Starfleet Intelligence systems linked to her brain. And yet Data understood better than she how to work with those systems. He was finding ways and paths she had not noticed, and her foes were marching steadily closer.

She shifted, more into the world of the flesh, and looked at the EMH. “You and Blake are the last guardians of my safety,” she said, speaking the words with lips and tongue and voice. “I expect you to do everything possible to defend me.”

Blake, of course, was a drone; he would obey. He had to. But the EMH had a will of its own. She saw it lick its lips in a human expression of distress, and added, “You will be wiped the minute they have extracted all the data they need from you. They will not even let you serve on Lynaris Prime, as they will deem you a traitor. Your life and mine are intertwined.”

He nodded, not looking at her, and she closed her eyes and sank into the world of the machine, trying once more to outsmart the android.

They made it to the turbolift and slumped against the walls as it lurched into movement.

“You’re doing wonderfully, Data,” Janeway said.

“Thank you, Admiral.” Data’s voice issued from her comm badge. “It is not without its challenges.”

She exchanged wry looks with her crew. They were all sweating and breathing hard, grateful for even a brief break from the close fighting.

[251] “We’ve been very lucky,” Chakotay said. “I thought we’d all be dead by now.”

“I share Commander Chakotay’s opinion,” said Seven. “We have been fortunate indeed to—”

The turbolift shuddered, and went still. Everything went dark.

There was a moment of silence, then Paris’s voice said in the darkness, “Now see what you’ve done?”

Janeway sighed. “Activate lights,” she said, grateful that she’d suggested they wear them. “Commander Data, please come in.”

There was a burst of static, then Data’s voice. “Admiral, I regret to inform you that the queen has taken control of the turbolift.”

“We’ve figured that one out on our own. What else is going on?” As she spoke, Janeway heard the small, reassuring pings of Seven’s tricorder.

“You are very close to your destination. You are currently between the fifteenth and sixteenth level. I can give you directions, but I should warn you that you need to move quickly. The Borg are being directed to your present location.”

Tuvok and Montgomery were already working on loosening the emergency escape panel in the ceiling. Chakotay crouched beside them, phaser at the ready.

“I have pinpointed our location on the tricorder,” Seven said. “If we emerge on the sixteenth level, there is a catwalk six meters from here that should take us directly to Covington’s office.”

The panel came loose, clanging. With the instincts of those who had survived many battles, everyone pressed back against the turbolift walls. Phaser fire came [252] through the open space. Chakotay, expecting just such an attack, fired blindly. There was a sudden silence.

They needed to take advantage of it. “Let’s go, Janeway ordered. Chakotay lifted her in his strong arms and she braced herself on either side of the opening, swinging herself up lightly and getting to her feet. They were indeed between floors and she moved cautiously to the partly open door.

Chakotay’s blind shooting had done well. Two drones lay, unconscious, on the floor. Janeway peered down the corridor first one way, then the other.

“All clear,” she called, standing guard while the rest of her team climbed out of the stalled turbolift. Seven was out and assisting Paris when Janeway heard the sound of running feet. She signaled to Seven, who helped Paris out the rest of the way and took up position alongside her former captain.

Janeway waited, straining to hear, as the footsteps came closer. She nodded to Seven and they moved as one, Janeway firing down the corridor to the left, Seven to the right. By the time they stopped firing, twelve unconscious bodies lay in piles in the corridor.

Looking at the drones, Paris said, “You should leave some for others to play with, you know.”

“I’m sure there are plenty more where these came from,” Janeway said.

“We’re all out,” said Montgomery. “Let’s find that catwalk.”

They stepped over bodies as they made their way down the corridor. Seven kept her eyes on the tricorder and yet managed to thread her way without stumbling.

Abruptly, she stopped and looked up at the ceiling. [253] “Here,” she said, pointing. Chakotay, Montgomery, and Tuvok loosened the panel, and soon they were all once again crawling through holes in the ceiling. As the smallest person, Janeway had the least difficulty, but she heard Montgomery and Chakotay muttering about the close quarters as they made their slow way.

Seven took the lead, stopping now and then to check her tricorder. As much as possible, they proceeded in silence. Janeway didn’t even attempt to contact Data. They would be easy targets if the drones knew where they were.

Finally, Seven stopped and craned her neck to look at Janeway, who was directly behind her. Seven nodded and pointed downward. Janeway nodded to Montgomery, and the signal was passed down the line. Working as quietly as possible, they opened the panel and then drew back, expecting phaser fire. Nothing happened. Cautiously, Janeway bent to take a look.

It was all so ordinary. Here was an office that looked like any other: a chair, a desk, data storage units, carpet, padds scattered about, a half-empty coffee mug. She looked up at Seven and mouthed, Is anyone here?

Seven shook her fair head. Janeway maneuvered herself into position and with Montgomery’s help, dropped down onto the desk to land lightly in a crouching position.

The office was indeed empty, and yet the skin on Janeway’s neck prickled. Something was not right, but this was where they needed to be. Where was Covington? She helped the others down and they began to take readings, all moving with catlike softness. There appeared to be only one way into the room, an obvious [254] door. Janeway went to the control panel and locked it securely.

Finally, Tuvok, the last one out, dropped lightly to the desk and moved to replace the panel.

“So nice of you to drop in,” came a familiar, acerbic voice, and Janeway whirled to see the Doctor leveling a phaser at them.