Chapter Text
Life on the Cerritos had gotten complicated for Ensign Beckett Mariner. Not since the secret of her parentage was spilled had everyday encounters with her crewmates been this awkward and uncomfortable. Within the past few weeks her whole world was turned upside down in more ways than once. Seemingly the whole crew had without warning turned on her in the mistaken belief that she purposely attacked and destroyed the Cerritos’s reputation. Even her own mother didn’t even want to hear Mariner’s side of the story, instead acting on the belief that her daughter was out to get her. In a strange twist, the only person who came to her aid was Commander Ransom of all people, a man who had previously made it his mission to drum her out of Starfleet. Eventually the truth came out that it was the crew as a whole who unknowingly sullied their name.
Suffice to say, her vindication and return to the Cerritos left everyone walking on eggshells around her. There were a few heartfelt apologies from the likes of Shaxs, but half the crew seemed to be avoiding her out of either embarrassment or shame. But that suited Mariner just fine. She’d always distanced herself from her crewmates. It was best not to get attached, her unjustified punitive transfer was just further proof of that.
The main exceptions to this current paradigm came in two categories, her three best friends who didn’t believe the rumor for a moment, and Jennifer Sh'reyan. Her… Well she wasn’t sure what they were anymore. Were they exes? Maybe, but it’s not like they’d officially broken up.
Jennifer had said some hurtful things to her out of a mistaken sense of betrayal. Something they had yet to speak about since her return. But neither one of them were ready for whatever that conversation would be. The same pattern kept repeating itself a few times a week. Jennifer would get within a few meters of Mariner, the antennae on top of her head would twitch with anxiety, then she’d open her mouth to speak before freezing up. The encounters always ended with one of them chickening out and leaving.
Mariner didn’t know what the hell she wanted out of the andorian. Did she want to rush into her arms and beg for forgiveness and another shot? Did she want to scream at her for being someone who was supposed to be on her side but wasn’t? Did she even want to speak to Jennifer again, let alone continue their relationship? Mariner honestly didn’t know the answer to any of those questions. Instead, her current plan was to just keep Jennifer at arm’s length and avoid the problem for the time being. Once again, getting attached only made things more complicated.
Mariner stretched out in her group’s usual mess hall booth as the now five of them ate their morning meal. The Cerrito’s newest transfer, a vulcan named T’Lyn, had been quite literally dragged into their friend group by the ever excitable Tendi. The vulcan initially seemed to be content to simply keep to herself, but neither Tendi or Mariner planned on letting that happen. T’Lyn was just so uptight that Mariner made it her mission to get the vulcan out of her shell.
A task that was only getting harder since the Cerritos had been stuck doing boring survey missions since it got out of spacedock, again. Their ship spent an awful lot of time being repaired.
While Tendi was eagerly listing off all the super boring scans she and T’Lyn were going to do while the Cerritos was surveying a shattered moon, Mariner was trying to press Boimler for something they could do for fun while all that was going on.
“I don’t know Mariner,” said Boimler between bites of his cereal, “scanning for anomalies can be exciting.” It was even worse that he sounded genuinely excited.
“No it’s not,” countered Mariner. “It’s boring busy work. The senior staff are just going to write reports while the rest of us will spend several days hitting the ‘scan’ button on consoles over and over. Seriously, we need to come up with something actually fun to do while Ransom and the senior staff are distracted.”
“But it’s not just reports and scanning,” Rutherford also sounded enthusiastic, “the harmonic resonance of the asteroids’ crystal structure could have unknown effects on subspace fields. Commander Billups and I have a whole series of experiments we are doing to study its effects on the warp core.”
“See Mariner,” said Boimler, “stuff with the warp core is always cool and fun.”
“No it’s not,” Mariner lied. She groaned and thumped her feet up on the table. Her friends were such dorks and she loved them for it.
“Ooh,” Tendi turned her attention to Rutherford. “What experiments are you doing?”
“We’re seeing how the subspace distortions will affect warp plasma. Spent all morning isolating the secondary warp plasma regulators from the core so we can attach the monitoring equipment later.”
Mariner did her best to fake disinterest in her friends’ excited discussion. Across from her, the unflappable vulcan stared at her boots for a moment. It was clearly the vulcan version of a judgmental look.
“You got a problem T’Lyn?” Mariner shot back.
“I did not say anything.” T’Lyn’s tone was of course level and controlled. “I was just observing your behavior. Is it not unusual for humans to place one’s feet on a table while others are eating?” She said in that annoying vulcan way of making an accusation sound like a harmless question. Mariner never met a vulcan who wasn’t uptight with a sense of smug superiority.
Not one to back down from a challenge, Mariner leaned forward to return her own jab. However a beep of her com badge and Ransom’s annoying voice cut her off before she could speak.
“Mariner!” Ransom never failed to sound like her very existence frustrated him. “Report to transporter room one for an away mission immediately.”
“Ugg,” Mariner groaned as she stood up and tapped her com badge. “On my way.”
“Oh, and I assume ensigns Boimler and Rutherford are with you. Have them accompany you as well. Ransom out.” Of course, it was going to be one of those days, Mariner lamented.
A few minutes later Mariner was standing outside the main transporter room with Lieutenant Shax, Billups, T’Ana, as well as several lower ranked officers, including Jennifer. Of course Jennifer was there too. If dealing with Ransom on an away mission wasn’t bad enough, now she had Jennifer to worry about.
All those lower ranked officers like her were as usual left in the dark about what their mission was. Not having the privilege of being on the bridge at the right moment, Mariner and the rest of non-senior staff had to wait until the mission briefing before having any clue what was going on.
As if on queue, the nearby turbolift doors slid open revealing Commander Ransom. “Alright listen up,” his authoritative tone instantly commanded everyone’s attention. “As the Cerritos entered the debris field we picked up an automated distress call from a Pakled ship.”
The gathered officers exchanged looks. Their intimate history with the Pakleds left everyone on the Cerritos with complicated, generally negative, feelings towards the species. Whether that was in the total destruction of the Solvang and their attempt to do the same to them, or their more recent plot to frame the captain for a bombing, an encounter with the Pakleds was likely not going to end well.
But of course, they were Starfleet. If someone was in trouble, no matter who they were, it was their duty to help.
Ransom cleared his throat to regain everyone’s attention. “It looks like those Pakleds crashed their ship into one of the asteroids in the debris field.” He sounded amused by the potential ineptitude. “They haven’t responded to hails and we’ve been unable to confirm if there are any lifesigns onboard. Subspace distortions and internal shielding have prevented us from getting a good look at what’s going on,” Ransom said as he started leading the group into the transporter room. “We’re going to be transporting onto the ship’s bridge as it’s somehow the most unshielded area.” Ransom shook his head at the ridiculousness of Pakled ship design priorities. “Our goal is simple: we're going to locate and assist any injured crew, determine what caused the crash, and if possible glean any information we can about Pakled systems and activities.” He took a moment to look over the assembled group for any questions or comments. Seeing none he continued. “Alright, let’s move out.”
Mariner filed into the transporter room and onto the pad next to Ransom. On the pad to her right was Jennifer, who was trying her best to appear both professional and look anywhere but at Mariner. As long as it stayed an awkward silence, Mariner could deal with it. But Mariner couldn’t help but feel her heart soar just a little at the sight of Jennifer beside her. Why did everything interpersonal have to be so complicated? She’s gone on dates with plenty of other crewmates and none of them left her feeling like her heart was cut out with a scalpel.
A moment later Mariner, Jennifer, Ransom, Boimlier, and Shaxs materialized on the dark Pakled bridge. The room was cramped and wouldn’t have been well lit even if main power was on. The room consisted of a handful of miss matched dead consoles crowded around an undersized off center viewscreen at the front of the room. A viewscreen who’s placement left all the stations arranged at least thirty degrees off center. Mariner shook her head at the realization that the Pakleds couldn’t even get their bridge aligned correctly.
What the bridge was missing though was most concerning, Pakleds. Not a single person or body was on the bridge. A chill went down Mariner’s spine. A ghost ship was always an ominous sign of things to come.
Seconds later T’Ana, Billups, and their respective teams materialized on the bridge.
“Alright,” said Ransom, “Mariner, Sh'reyan, Boimler, start checking the ship’s systems for any clue as to what happened here. Try the main computer core.” The three of them nodded in response. “Dr. T’Ana and Shax, start looking for survivors. Billups, have your team work on getting power to the internal sensors.”
“Yes sir,” said Billups.
“Be careful not to activate too many systems until we know more about what happened here,” said Ransom. “Most likely this is just an accident, but better safe than sorry. Everyone, stay in communication range. The subspace distortions and shielding will limit coms.”
With that, everyone split up to do their jobs. Billups, Rutherford, and the rest of the engineering team went deeper into the ship to find main engineering. The medical and security team spread out to look for any Pakleds still onboard. That left Ransom and a few ensigns on the bridge while Mariner, Jennifer, and Boimler stepped out into the dark hallways to investigate the derelict vessel.
The hallways, while wide and theoretically spacious, were cast in heavy shadows from the minimal emergency lighting, leaving the corridor feeling claustrophobic. The trio had their tricorders and phasers out, with a standard flashlight strapped to their dominant wrist to illuminate their way.
Dead ships had an eerie silence to them. Every ship was filled with the ever present sounds of air circulation, engine vibrations, power conduit hummings, and all of it came together in a unique everpresent white noise. Usually, the most terrifying sound anyone on a starship could hear was silence. Silence meant everything, including the air, had shut down.
Mariner kept an eye on the atmospheric readings on her tricorder. Stable for now. While the trio wasn’t in any immediate danger, the way ships could seal off and contain pockets of gasses meant that could change at any moment.
After a few minutes of walking through the dim hallway, the three of them arrived outside the main computer core. Separating them from their destination was a simple sealed door with a circular window at its center. Through the window Mariner could see that while only the emergency lighting was active, there was still a slight glow coming from various systems. Hopefully that meant there was enough power to access the ship’s logs.
While Boimler quickly went to work on the door controls, Mariner took a moment for a more detailed scan of the area. The last thing she needed was an unexpected surprise.
“Hey, um, Beckett?” Jennifer’s uncharacteristically timid voice distracted Mariner from her scan. Scratch that, her possibly ex choosing that moment for a heart to heart was the last thing she needed.
“What Jennifer?” Mariner sighed and put away the tricorder.
“Look I know we haven’t had a chance to talk since,” she paused, her antennae twitched nervously.
“Since what Jennifer? Since you dumped me? Since you didn’t even take the time to ask my side of the story before you decided to just toss me aside like everyone else?” Mariner made no effort to hide how hurt she was. It would be easier if she could be angry with Jennifer, if she could scream and curse at her. But no. That would require believing she didn’t on some level deserve what Jennifer and the crew did to her.
“Look Beckett, it’s just that. I mean.” She closed her eyes for a moment to focus her thoughts. “Everyone was certain you were the one who attacked the crew and made them look bad. I mean even the captain confirmed it.”
“Damnit Jen,” Mariner shot back, “why didn’t you come to me? You of all people were supposed to be the one person who would at least give me the benefit of the doubt.”
“Beckett I…” Jennifer trailed off.
“What?” Mariner glared back.
“Uh, guys?” Boimler awkwardly cut in.
“What,” Mariner snapped, she’d completely forgotten he was there.
“Door’s open,” said Boimler.
Mariner turned away from Jennifer, pulled out her tricorder, and walked towards the open room. Inside was a dark, cramped afare. There was a central cylindrical computer core at the center of the room with several computer stations haphazardly scattered around. A web of wires and cables crisscrossed the room in every direction. This setup was clearly composed of equipment from half a dozen different races. Pieces belonging to the Klingons, Federation, Romulans, and a few Mariner didn’t recognize were scattered across the room. As dumb as Pakleds could be in many aspects, they were geniuses at combining technology of various origins.
The wall to her left had four sealed blast doors. Unlike the main entrance, these lacked any sort of windows. Scanning it with her tricorder, Mariner found that the composite making up that wall effectively blocked her scans.
“So,” Mariner spoke up to both of her companions, “we’re all in agreement that we’re leaving these doors sealed? Absolutely no good can come from opening sealed blast doors on a seemingly abandoned ship without knowing what’s behind them.”
Boimler and Jennifer returned enthusiastic nods of agreement.
The trio then got to work first determining where to even access the computer core, then figuring out how to get in. After a few minutes of fruitless fumbling, Boimler called Rutherford on the com badge. Rutherford’s team had made it to main engineering and were working on restoring power to key systems. Though the com badge connection was spotty due to the subspace distortions, the pair eventually worked out that main power to the computer core had been cut. A few more minutes of work on both Boimler’s and Rutherford’s ends eventually resulted in power making it to the main computer core.
The lights flashed on and the status indicators on the core lit up in a rainbow of colors. Soon the consoles started to reactivate, displaying text in at least three different languages as the various systems clashed with each other. Boimler and Jennifer went to work trying to locate the ship’s logs. Mariner though, could feel something was wrong. She’d been on enough away missions to know this was when things usually went tits up. She tapped her tricorder’s screen and started more scans.
As she flipped through the EM spectrum, Mariner overheard part of a distorted message from Rutherford to Boimler. It was something about increased power draw in their section. She switched the tricorder over to look for power conduits.
“Tell Rutherford I’m looking into it,” Mariner said. Her tricorder displayed an image of where the active power conduits in the walls and floor were located. After a few minutes Mariner tracked the main power line for the computer and found where a splitter carried power off towards the sealed off area. Something on the other side of those bulkheads was drawing more and more power.
“Uh, Boims,” Mariner called out. “Something’s sucking a lot of energy over here.”
“Hold on a second, I think we found…” Boimler abruptly stopped talking.
Spinning around, Mariner saw Boimler and Jennifer were staring at each other, completely pale. “Guys? What’s wrong?”
Boimler shot to his feet and grabbed his PADD, before tapping his com badge. “Boimler to Ransom! Come in!” He grabbed Jennifer by the wrist and dragged her to her feet. “We have to go.”
Mariner knew better than to question when Boimler got serious.
“Boimler to anyone, stop what you’re doing and get back to the Cerritos!”
Suddenly Mariner heard a hissing noise and the sound of metal sliding. Something had unsealed the blast doors. Her heart rate kicked into gear. It was definitely time to go.
“If anyone can hear me,” Boimler continued his desperate calls as the blast doors started to slide upwards. “The last ship these Pakleds salvaged was a wrecked Borg Sphere!”
Mariner’s eyes went wide with horror as the blast doors slid up to reveal the room beyond was filled with several deactivated yet still occupied Borg alcoves. In an instant green lights started activating and the alcoves started coming back online. The diverted power reactivating the dormant Borg drones. Red laser lights turned on as the drones stepped out of the alcoves with disturbing biomechanical noises as they moved.
She’d never actually seen a Borg drone in person before, few who had ever got the chance to speak about it. The large Pakled bodies, their skin now unnaturally gray, were covered in mechanical suits with numerous tubes and devices driven into their skin. Their faces were cold and expressionless, a sign that whatever personality they once had was long removed. Horrific visions of mechanical parts being driven into her body, of limbs removed to serve the collective, flashed through her mind. Assimilation was a fate worse than death, and Mariner refused to let it happen to her or any of her friends.
The laser lights coalesced on the trio. The realization hit them, these Borg had no intention of ignoring them, they planned to assimilate. Several drones started stepping through the open doorways between the trio and the exit. Mariner and Jennifer fired together, stunning the two of the drones in their way. Boimler took the opening and ran forward, stunning a drone in his way. Jennifer followed close behind with Mariner taking up the rear.
They had to run, it was at least a few dozen meters to the door Boimler opened earlier. But the now open blast doors meant drones were pouring out between them and their exit. A pair of large drones stepped out, blocking Jennifer’s path. She skidded to a halt and fired her phaser into the first. The red beam crashed into its armored body, causing the Borg to spasm and collapse. However this gave time for the second one to close in.
A surge of panic swept through Mariner at the sight. She aimed her phaser and fired at the drone closing in on Jennifer, sending it crashing to the ground.
Jennifer turned around. “Thanks for the,” her eyes went wide and antennae shot up. Snapping her phaser out, she fired over Mariner’s shoulder.
Spinning around, Mariner saw a drone crumple to the deckplate. Looking back she couldn’t help but smile at the andorian, a look Jennifer was already returning. The blue skinned woman was still as beautiful and wonderful as ever. For an instant, Mariner forgot all about how much hurt she caused.
“Hurry up you two!” Boimler called out from the main entrance. His phaser was up and he fired two quick shots into a pair of drones coming out of the last blast door. The first dropped, but the second barely reacted as a green shield blocked the blast. “They’ve adapted!”
“Go,” said Mariner, to which Jennifer nodded and started running.
Suddenly a gray skinned arm reached out of an open blast door, catching Jennifer as she ran by. Jennifer thrashed helplessly in the drone’s iron grip. Mariner watched in horror as the drone’s second hand, clenched in a fist ready to extend the nanoprobe injectors, moved towards the andorian’s neck.
“No!” Mariner screamed as she barreled into the drone. Her body collided with it, sending the drone crashing into the doorframe. Not giving it time to react, Mariner swung her elbow into its forehead. Jennifer, who’d been knocked to the ground in Mariner’s attack, started to regain her footing.
“Run!” Mariner yelled as she started to stand up. There was a sense of relief watching Jennifer scramble to her feet and start to close in on Boimler and the exit. Looking back, a few more drones were coming towards Mariner from behind. Her body was starting to shake from the adrenaline and fear, but she could do this. There was only one drone remaining between them and Boimler. They had a chance. Mariner finished rising to her feet and tensed her body to run the final few meters.
“Fuck,” she hissed at the sudden sharp pain in her right forearm. She looked down to swat away whatever that was and froze. Her blood ran cold. Protruding from her forearm were two wiggling metal tubes connected to the clenched fist of the now sitting up drone.
She jerked her arm away, but it was too late. The drone simply let her go.
‘No. No. Please God no.’ Black veins and gray skin began to expand from the injection point. This couldn’t be happening. Her stomach churned and dropped with cold dread. This couldn’t be real. There had to be something she could do.
“Mariner!” Boimler yelled. “Come on!” The drone he failed to stun had closed in on him. Boimler ducked under its wide swing. Jennifer ran up behind it, ready to swing a palm punch at its head, only to back up when it turned to her.
Searing pain shot up from Mariner’s arm. This was it, this was how she was going to die. Except it’s worse than death. Every part of her was going to be erased, leaving nothing but a husk behind. Those microscopic machines were twisting her into something wholly wrong and unnatural. And there was nothing she could do about it.
The drone grabbed Jennifer by the throat, lifting her off her feet. “Let her go!” Boimler screamed as he ran forward. The drone swung the helpless Jennifer into Boimler, sending him crashing into the wall.
No more. These bastards weren’t getting anyone else. Mariner charged forward at the drone that was now facing away from her. She leapt onto its back, grabbing onto one of the long black tubes protruding from its head and running into its back. Clenching with all her might, Mariner ripped the tube free with a sickly wet and mechanical sound. The drone shuttered, dropping Jennifer before collapsing into a seizing mass.
Scrambling to her feet once again, Jennifer coughed as her crushed throat expanded. “Thanks,” she said between coughs. Her eyes narrowed and her antennae drooped inquisitively. “Are you ok?” She asked, concerned.
Mariner, who was holding her right arm behind her, nodded. “I’m fine, just keep going.”
Suddenly Boimler was there, grabbing Jennifer and pulling towards the exit. The pain was worse now. Like a thousand needles were stabbing her from the inside out. And she could hear them now. A thousand voices and thoughts in her head. More and louder every second, it was becoming harder to even tell which ones were her own thoughts. She was shaking now. Not just from the nanoprobes, but from fear.
More drones started coming up from behind. Any second now she’d be one of them. She had to do something to save Boimler and Jennifer. Mariner charged towards the exit, shoving her two friends through. Once clear she slammed the door control to close off the room with her inside.
“Ow what the hell?” Exclaimed Boimler in surprise.
Jennifer spun around to see Mariner through the clear window on the door. Using her good arm, Mariner fired her phaser into the door control resulting in a shower of sparks. She looked down at the phaser. It wasn’t much good to her anymore. She shrugged and tossed it aside.
More voices. ‘Function zero five zero one…’ No, she had to focus on her own thoughts. ‘...system failure in section...’ She couldn’t hope to fight the assimilation. Mariner wanted to cry or scream. This wasn’t how she was supposed to end. They were stripping her of everything and all she could do was wait while the machines in her blood unmade her. Death was one thing, she accepted it would happen one day. But to be mentally rewritten into a mindless member of the Borg Collective, that was a horror unlike anything she could imagine.
“No, no, no!” Jennifer’s voice was muffled by the sealed door. Mariner looked up at Jennifer, her own reflection showed the extent of the assimilation. Gray skin and black veins had already spread across half her face.
‘...vessel detected. Registry NCC...’
Jennifer was so beautiful, even with tears in her eyes. Her soft blue skin and lush gray hair. ‘...five five six…’ Those eyes didn’t deserve to cry. She gave Jennifer one last smile. ‘...power nodes junction level one five…’ Mariner placed her hand on the window. Jennifer was now frantically beating on the door while Boimler tried in vain to pull her away.
‘Unimatrix eighteen one seven…’ It was so much harder to think now. So much harder to even guess which thoughts were her own.
Mariner looked into Jennifer’s eyes one last time. “Goodbye.”