Eve turned to Cel. “Mr. Cel, I want that data stream sent to Starfleet HQ by tightbeam hyperwave transmission. Full and total security encryption. And after you do so ColdFire is on communication blackout. Nothing goes in or out except for communications between The Pyramid and us.”

       “Aye, Captain.”

       Grunnig spoke up; “How do we know this isn’t a trick? That those images weren’t faked?”

       “Because The Borg don’t have any reason or need to resort to tricks, Mr. Grunnig,” Eve said. “No…The Mephosta are real.”

       “Captain?” Ron Boutin’s eyes were fairly ablaze with curiosity. “The Borg Queen referred to you as ‘The Perfect One’. What exactly did she mean by that?”

       Eve looked at Fotheran, who nodded slightly. Eve sighed and said; “All senior staff to The Conference Room. It’s time some tales were told…”

---

       Eve gazed down the length of the conference table, at the expectant faces of her staff. People she’d known for years, people who thought they’d known her. And now she was going to shatter that illusion, tell them the truth. What would they think of her? Would they treat her like Starfleet had at first, as though she was just some thing, some piece of technology? Oh, that hadn’t lasted long but still. She’d taken it because they didn’t know her, know who she was, been unable to see past the incredible level of technology that was represented by her very presence.

       But these people knew her, and served with her through situations and missions that had forged a closer bond. Would they treat her differently despite that? She hoped not. And she wasn’t even going to tell them the final truth, the one that only a few people knew, the one that she had no intention of ever telling anyone ever, unless there was no other choice, unless the Queen gave her no other choice. She hadn’t missed the Borg’s reference to ‘drones’ as she’d cut the connection. Knew it hadn’t been a misspoken word.

       She glanced at Denys, saw the support clearly, gave him a tiny smile, and turned back.

       “All right,” She said aloud. “Who here remembers their Federation History? Does the name V’ger ring a bell?”

       There were puzzled nods in the affirmitive. The V’ger incident was covered in Starfleet Academy now, as a lesson in how to handle First Contact situations, especially in relation in how the Enterprise had handled communication between the vast ‘life form’; Spock’s attempt at communication and what V’ger had done with Ilia in response to that. Its own attempt at continuing the dialogue that Spock had begun.

       “After it was over, Starfleet decided to send a ship to backtrack along V’ger’s flight path,” Eve continued, “In a joint mission with the Klingons, in an attempt to make contact with the Machine Race who had rebuilt Voyager and then sent it back to us.

       “They picked a crew, which included civilians along with officers and crew. Among them, the Federation’s primary authority on cybernetics and organic/machine interfaces.” She tapped a key on the desk before her and the screen lit up, showing an image of a group of people; a mixture of Federation races and Klingon. She saw the widening of eyes when one face in particular registered. Even with the metallic prosthetics she’d had to wear back then. “Me.”

       She saw Boutin about to speak, but overrode him. “We followed V’ger’s flight path for a month, before we fell through a stable wormhole. There was an attempt to go back through, but the gravitic turbulence was too great; the ship would never have survived. We weren’t anywhere we recognized and we couldn’t go back. So we went on; the trail of V’ger’s propulsion was still easy to detect.

       “Not too long after that, we hit something, or something hit us. All I can tell you is the ship was falling apart around me, everything went black… and I woke up in a Sickbay.” Eve paused, remembering the confusion and fear of those first few minutes.

       “That’s when I found out it was 95 years later, and I’d been… changed.” A tap on the keys again. This time it showed medical scans of her. The magnification increased in stages, showing nothing wrong but continuing down to the cellular level, where it showed the individual cells, but not the smooth organic shapes that the people around her had, but the metallic shapes of nanocells.

       “They thought I was an advanced Borg until the computer told them the technology was along the same ‘evolutionary’ path as the copy of Lt. Ilia,” Eve glanced briefly back at the screen, then turned back. “Still the Machine Race, but a whole order of magnitude more advanced, as though they’d evolved. Or at least their method of replication had. One theory was that they didn’t use their full resources to repair Voyager 6 and send it back. I remember everything about Eve Mallory, I have her memories, her likes and dislikes, her sense of taste and smell, everything. As far as I’m concerned, as far as Starfleet and the Federation are concerned, I am her.” A very faint smile. “Just not the original. Starfleet coined the term Replicant to describe me.”

       “As to why I was sent back and not any of the others, I don’t know. Starfleet ran me through some tests, and the results of one of them scared them and me so much, they packed me off on the Grail to get rid of me.”

       She shared a long look with JoAnn. The second to last truth. The one that frightened Starfleet; although the final hidden secret had scared them more. Frightened them enough to get her out of Federation space and into a nightmare that had scarred her to the core that still woke her sometimes.

       “I can hack into Borg interlink frequencies,” She spoke quietly, seeing the confusion in most of them, although she saw the dawning comprehension Ron Boutin’s eyes. “I can access local Borg Collectives,” She elaborated, tapping the side of her head. “Up here. I can hear them; I can even communicate with them if I want to.” A pause, during which she saw the horrified comprehension, fear and worry start to bubble up. “But not any more. I set up… I guess the best way to describe it would be firewalls to block off that access, from either direction.” She glanced at Denys, who looked back her with support, giving her the courage to continue; he knew that truth. She’d told him years ago, on the Grail during the training cruise that had forged them into an unbeatable team. “Being linked to the Borg is the second most horrific experience I’ve ever had. It’s not one I ever want to repeat, unless I absolutely have to.”

       “Do you think you might have to?” Boutin asked quietly.

       “I doubt it,” Eve responded. “Not with a Queen involved. But I will tell you this, having a Queen present, makes this situation a whole lot easier.”

       “Why?” That was Lockridge.

       “As a collective, Borg are implacable. They have one overriding goal above all else; explore and assimilate. A Queen is more than just a single point of control; she’s an emotional being just like us. She’s arrogant. She’s spiteful. She’s also curious.” A smirk. “She can be reasoned with to an extent, and best of all, she can be manipulated if you’re careful.”

       “She called you Perfect One,” Lockridge again.

       “That’s a reference to what I am,” Eve said. “It’s not just me. The Grail encountered other Replicants who were referred to the same way. They remember – or seem to – the missing time and don’t seem inclined to share what happened. One thing I did discover though; I compared some Borg nanoprobes with my own cells and came up with something surprising. I’ve since had it verified by various experts.

       “If the two types had been DNA, or organic, the differential between the two would indicate that one upon a time the Borg and the Machine Race were one species. But somewhere along the line, they’d gone along different evolutionary paths. One a mixture of organic and machine, the other pure technology.

       “And for some reason, Borg will not directly assimilate a Perfect One.” Eve seemed about to say something else, but didn’t.

       “You said being linked to the Borg was the second most horrific thing you’ve ever experienced,” Boutin asked. “What was the first?”

       Eve looked down the table at him. “Mr. Boutin, pray to whatever gods you worship you never find out.” She looked at the others. “If you have any questions you want to ask me, now is the time to do it. We may not have time later on.”

       The assembled crew looked around the conference table at each other as if they weren’t quite sure what to say. Grunnig was peering at Eve with calculated Cardassian suspicion but then again, Grunnig looked at everybody that way. Cel’s eyes were darting back and forth. A true Ferengi, he would not give his opinion until having gauged what the popular opinion was. Then he’d judge which was best to throw his support behind.

       Ron Boutin spoke up; “Well, I must say that this explains some incidents that have happened over the years that have puzzled me.”

       Lockridge was nodding. “Yeah…I remember one time when Commander Fotheran, Captain Mallory and myself were stunned with Bajoran phasers. The Captain came to long before the Commander and I did. I always wondered about that.”

       Eve answered; “A phaser on a stun setting is little more than a nuisance to me. A phaser would have to be set on a kill setting or higher to have any lasting effect on me.”

       Mike Vollmer waved a hand for attention. “So let me get this straight: being a…Replicant, as you call it, what exactly are your cells composed of?”

       “The closest way I can describe it is as a form of organic silicon.”

       Vollmer looked at Fotheran with more than irritation on his face and in his tone. “And you’ve known this all along?...Hell, what am I saying? Of course you did. You and Captain Mallory have no secrets from each other.” Vollmer turned his gaze on JoAnn. “And you’d know because you were the Captain’s counselor long before she ever got the GS1 assignment. Who else? Victor would be my guess. As Chief Medical Officer he’d have to be in the know.”

       “Your point, Mr. Vollmer?” Eve said quietly.

       “Permission to speak freely?”

       Eve nodded, “always.”

       Vollmer leaned forward. “Captain Mallory…Eve…you know that I’m a 100% Starfleet and if they gave you orders to keep this Replicant status of yours a secret then that’s good enough for me. But we’ve all served together for a while now. I don’t know about you but I don’t just see us as a crew. We’re a family. We’re out here on the furthermost fringe of Federation space. So we’ve had to forge bonds tighter than most other crews.”

       “I feel that same way, Mike. And so does Denys and JoAnn.”

       “Well, I’ve also seen you and Denys circumvent a few rules and outright bust others into pieces so I don’t see why you couldn’t have circumvented the one Starfleet gave you about your Replicant status and trusted us with the secret.”

       “Mike’s got a point,” Wally Lockridge said quietly. “I dunno about anybody else but I don’t like to think I’m not trusted.”

       “It’s not that you or anybody else at GS1 isn’t trusted, Wally,” Fotheran said. “But Eve was under orders.”

       “You’re a fine one to all of a sudden be concerned about following orders,” Wally shot back.

       “Okay, that’s enough, Wally.” Eve ordered, holding up a hand. “This isn’t about trust. I’ve put my life in the hands of this crew many times in the past and I think that says enough about my trust in you.”

       “But did you really trust us with your life?” Grunnig asked with typical Cardassian craftiness. “How do we know your capabilities or limitations? Can you die? You have to be easily over a 100 years old but you appear to be a human woman in her mid-thirties. I know that human lifespans have increased significantly from what they once were, but still…”

       “Believe it or not, Mr. Grunnig, there’s still a lot about myself I don’t know. But my purpose in revealing all this to you now is because I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next few hours or days and you deserve to know. Because I don’t know what The Borg Queen is really after.”

       “You think she really doesn’t want our help against these Mephosta?” JoAnn asked.

       Eve smiled with no humor. “Oh, I’m sure she wants our help. And I’m also as equally sure that she’s going to turn around and double-cross us as soon as we’ve taken care of The Mephosta for her. The thing we’ve got to figure out is how and when that double-cross is going to happen. And be ready for it.”

---

       Gamma Space One was 60% shut down and those areas deemed non-critical were sealed off and Life Support rerouted to the sections that were actively being used. Outside of Dianora’s Marines and Patience O’Neal’s security teams there weren’t many Starfleet staff and personnel left. Victor Utchenko’s staff had refused to leave but he ordered most of them to leave, only keeping those members who had no spouses or children. Patience, Dianora and Felicia were working from Patience’s office. Being Security Chief, in times of emergency, Patience’s office could serve as an auxiliary or replacement Operations with all vital systems being routed there. It was serving as Ops now as they waited for word from their friends.

       Dianora looked up from the Padd in her hand over at where Felicia Goodluck sat. The communications nook was located across the office which suited Felicia just fine. “Lt. Commander, have you-“

       Felicia turned in her seat. “Colonel Dianora, as I’ve informed you three times now, ColdFire has initiated a communications blackout. It does no good to ask me every five minutes if I’ve received word from them. They’ll contact us when they’re good and ready.”

       Dianora’s crystal blue eyes narrowed with anger. “I would think that you would be more concerned about what is happening on ColdFire…especially with your bethrothed about to face an enemy as implacable as The Borg.”

       “Wally and I have been Starfleet officers for a long time, Colonel. We both knew the risks when we signed on for this assignment. The very real possibility that one or both of us could die while on an assignment is something we’ve accepted.”

       Dianora’s face softened somewhat. But not much. Still, it was enough. “I understand.”

       Felicia continued; “usually we’re together on missions so it’s easier to face possible death when we’re together. This time…well….either one of us could die or be assimilated and the other might never know about it.” Felicia turned back to her console. “It’s just…different this time.”

       Patience entered the office. She was garbed in full battle armor and toted a combat phaser rifle. In addition she had a Klingon Mek’leth sheathed at the small of her back. She unsealed her helmet and took it off, running a hand through her short curly hair. “We won’t be any more ready than we are now.”

       “I take it everybody is where they’re supposed to be?” Dianora asked.

       Patience nodded. “Affirmative. I did a sweep of all positions. Your Marines and my people are deployed in all critical areas.” She unclipped a tricorder from her belt. “One touch of this and a force field goes up around the entire base.”

       “How strong will it be?” Felicia asked.

       Patience shrugged. “No way of telling. We’ll be routing all the power we redirected from non-critical areas into the force field generators. You can be sure of one thing: it’ll be the strongest force field you’ve ever been protected by.”

       “But it still won’t stop The Borg.” Felicia said in a voice devoid of hope.

       Dianora and Patience did not answer. There was nothing to say. Of course it wouldn’t stop The Borg. They knew that. Their only purpose on GS1 was to delay The Borg while Starfleet amassed an armada of ships. The longer they delayed The Borg the more time they bought for The Alpha Quadrant. And then again there was the chance that once they self destructed GS1 the unimaginably cataclysmic explosion just might destroy The Borg Pyramid as well.

       Felicia’s console chirped for attention. She bent over the console, tapping the touch sensitive controls. “Now who in the name of The Great Coprolite can this be?”

       “Who is it? Is it a message from ColdFire?” Dianora came out of her seat and joined Felicia and Patience. All three women bent over the communications console in eagerness.

       “No. We’re being hailed. By a Starfleet vessel coming through the wormhole.” Felicia looked up at Dianora and Patience. “You’re not going to believe this…it’s Raven II.”

       Dianora cocked her head to one side in surprise. “Are you absolutely sure?”

       Felicia pointed at her screens. “She’s sending the proper identification codes and it’s generating a quantum slipstream warp drive signature. Now as far as I know, Raven II is the only Federation ship using that drive.”

       Patience looked at Dianora. “You know what this means: Janeway’s sent her number one troubleshooter. Can’t say as I’m surprised. There’s nobody in The Federation who knows The Borg better than-“

       The comm system crackled into life. “This is Commander Hansen of the USS Raven II. We are coming through the wormhole now and will be in orbit above GS1 in nine minutes. Request permission for my aide and myself to beam down.”

       Patience nodded to Felicia who answered; “By all means, Commander. We’re looking forward to meeting you.”

---

       Victor Utchenko bustled in Patience’s office with his usual bluster. The barrel-chested Russian had his thick hands shoved into the pockets of the white lab coat he habitually wore over his Starfleet uniform. “I thought we were getting ready to go to war with The Borg, not receiving dignitaries.”

       Felicia grinned at Utchenko. “I think you’ll be glad we called you to meet this particular dignitary, Victor-“

       The familiar sound and shimmering blue curtain of energy that was the effect of a Federation transporter filled the office and when it was done, two women stood there.

       The first woman was wonderfully beautiful. Her shining mass of golden hair was pulled back tightly against her elegantly shaped skull. She carried herself with a sort of regal arrogance. Dressed smartly in a Starfleet uniform that looked as if it might have been painted on, the pips of a full Commander gleamed at her long neck. The ocular implant curving around her left eye, the starburst shaped implant under her right ear and the circuitry on her left hand plainly said that at some time in her past she had been once assimilated by The Borg.

       Her companion was a head shorter but also had a definite presence. The series of small, horn-like bony protrusions on her forehead bespoke of her half Ktarian heritage.

       The first woman stepped forward. “I am Commander Annika Hansen. This is my personal assistant and aide, Lt. Naomi Wildman. Admiral Kathryn Janeway has personally sent us here to help with your Borg problem.”

       Dianora stepped forward and extended her hand. “And I can think of no better help against The Borg than that of the legendary Seven of Nine.”

C H A P T E R   E I G H T