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| - Captain Tala sat anxiously in the Command Chair of the U.S.S. Polaris, the ship cruised through subspace at an extreme transwarp speed. She wasn't sure what she would find when the ship disengaged from subspace. "Captain," the helmsman reported, "We're about to leave subspace." "Very well." the Captain readied her crew, "All hands to battle stations, divert power to weapons and shields." The Polaris slowed to a stop deep within the Beta Quadrant, five ships nearby waiting for her arrival. "Where is the Romulan ship?" Tala wondered aloud. "The Federalist is hailing us, sir." the comm officer reported from a rear bridge terminal. "On screen." Captain Deet's image materialized on the viewscreen, appearing relieved. "We're glad you could join us, Tala." "The Romulan ship?" Tala immediately inquired. "Upon arrival, they cloaked and retreated as quickly as they could." Aznia explained. "It's going to be a long trip home for them." Tala suggested, "If that's where they're heading." "Something tells me they're going to stick around." Deet lamented. "We're off to a bumpy start, but it's a start all the same." "How do you think the Romulans knew?" Tala questioned, "It would be one thing to have intelligence about the project, but to know the exact time of launch... to time their attack so precisely? That's too much of a coincidence." "Cause for concern to be sure, Captain." Deet responded, "We need to remain vigilant, but for now, the only course forward is to go on as planned. How is the Polaris holding up?" "Only minor damage from our fire fight with the Romulans. It shouldn't hold us up." Deet nodded, satisfied, "The convoy has decided to set a course for the Nu Columba star system. At maximum warp, we can be there in two days." "Very well Captain. We'll lay in a course. Tala out." --- Aboard the Federalist, First of Eight worked diligently in engineering to prepare systems for the tasks ahead. The focus and energy she'd invested in this project was beginning to wear on both her biological Human systems and her synthetic Borg appendages. Despite the palpable exhaustion, she pressed on. "Ensign Solis," she turned around expecting to find the familiar engineer working nearby. He was not there. "Ensign Solis went off-duty at 1700, Commander." Lieutenant Coleman explained from another workstation nearby. "Of course," First of Eight shook off the mistake. "Coleman, we need to have the Bussard collectors degaussed by the end of Beta shift. Can you take care of that?" Coleman raised an eyebrow, "Commander? The Bussard collectors were degaussed earlier today. I believe Ensign Solis completed that work before ending his shift. Is everything alright?" the subordinate officer expressed concern at the Chief Engineer's apparent confusion. "I am feeling oddly fatigued, perhaps I should report to sick bay." "I'll take care of things here." Coleman reassured her. First of Eight slowly walked out of engineering to a nearby turbolift, ordering transit to Deck Four - Sickbay, she closed her eyes as the turbolift whirred through the decks, only opening when she heard the swish of the opening doors on deck four. It was only a few steps down the hallway to Sick Bay, but each because more and more laborious as the exhaustion seemed to compound every moment. Stepping into Sick Bay, she was greeted by an unfamiliar Saurian woman, "Hello, Commander. Is everything alright?" the Saurian approached with a Tricorder. "I am feeling unusually fatigued. I have had difficulty concentrating and focusing today." The Saurian approached with her Tricorder in hand, "Any dizziness, nausea, dry mouth?" "Not notably." The doctor folded her Tricorder, looking First of Eight carefully in each eye, "When is the last time you regenerated?" "Overnight, I regenerated for six hours." "Hmm..." the Saurian loaded her scans into a nearby display panel. "Your Borg implants seem to be operating adequately, but your biology isn't being refreshed. I'd like to take a sample of your nanoprobes." First of Eight nodded in approval, and the doctor found an empty hypospray to extract a small blood sample from the Drone Engineer's neck. She placed the vial into a scanner, allowing a diagnostic to run. The results appeared quickly. "This is interesting." The doctor explained, "Your Nanoprobe count seems to be down substantially. Normally your Borg implants are maintained during your regeneration cycle, this allows your nanoprobes to draw energy from your implants, and to maintain your body tissue elsewhere. It would seem that your Borg implants are no longer efficiently replicating nanoprobes, so your biological systems are suffering from severe exhaustion as a result." "Can this be treated?" The Borg officer pleaded. "Quite Simply." the Doctor explained, "You need to find a bed and get eight hours of rest. Doctor's orders." "Sleep?" The Engineer was taken aback. "...in place of regeneration?" The doctor shook her head regretfully, "Until I can find a way to stimulate your nanoprobe production, you will need both sleep and regeneration. Perhaps we can explore some solutions to try and find a balance between the two, but for the immediate future, you will need at least six hours of each, every night." "I don't think that I can afford to spend twelve hours a day resting Doctor..." First of Eight stopped awkwardly, not knowing the new Doctor's name. "You're not going to be any help to the mission if you aren't rested." the Doctor reassured the Engineer, "Get some rest, and let us work on the problem. I'll let you know if we find anything out." First of Eight nodded, accepting the prognosis. The Doctor tapped a control panel on the wall, entering a few commands. "I've just sent an order for the ship's quartermaster to have a bed installed in your quarters immediately. Until that's complete, I'm going to have you rest on bio-bed nine for a while." Sighing in resignation, First of Eight accepted the order, "Thank you, Doctor." The Saurian escorted the Drone to a quiet bed in a shaded corner of sickbay; "My name is Egraw, I just transferred here from Deep Space 3. We'll get to know each other better later. For now, get some rest." --- "The time is 0600." The Computer coldly notified, as it illuminated the room. Unconsciousness was an uncommon experience for First of Eight, and she sprung awake quickly. She prepared for her duty shift and was out the door within a few minutes. As annoyed as she found the need to sleep, at least she felt well rested, ready for a day's work. It was the third morning since her diagnosis, and she'd begun to settle into a routine, as inconvenient as she found it. The Federalist was in orbit of Nu Columba, and had spent the past two days surveying the system carefully, trying to determine its feasibility as a staging ground for the graviton catapult. It wasn't shaping up to be an adequate site, unusual gravitational eddies and inexplicable temporal anomalies rippled through the system. First of Eight entered Engineering, she walked through the doors to find the Captain at her workstation with Lieutenant Atom. "Commander. How are you doing?" Deet turned to the Chief Engineer. First of Eight nodded, "I am doing better now. Thank You." "I think we've pretty well concluded that this isn't going to be our system. But I wanted to get your opinion on this." Deet pointed to a diagnostic monitor. "We may not have our staging area, but we are still explorers after all." "What is it?" The Engineer inquired. "A very small object, metallic, spherical, in a very low orbit. It's small size and insignificant energy output made it quite difficult to detect." First of Eight tried to wrap her head around what the object could be, "Have we been able to determine its purpose?" "Negative." the Captain informed, "We can tell that it's mechanical, and it seems to have some form of data storage aboard; but its speed makes it difficult to get consistent scans. I've got Lt. Atom working on establishing a data link." "Captain, I believe I have an idea. If we patch the internal scanners through our transporter's confinement beam, we can use Scott's Equation for Transwarp Beaming to make a positive lock." "Intriguing." the Android science officer piped in. "I believe it would work." "Make it so." Aznia ordered. First of Eight turned to leave the room, "I will go to Transporter Room 2 to manually control the confinement beam. Atom, prepare to receive the data file as it comes through." "Yes sir." The Android dutifully turned back to his console. First of Eight left Engineering and walked toward the Turbolift. Captain Deet hurried to join her. "First." she stopped the Engineer and entered the Turbolift with her. "I want to make sure you're not pushing yourself too hard? How are you feeling." "I feel well physically, Captain." she lamented, "But the constraints on my time are difficult to deal with." "Understood. I need you at your best though. But I'd rather see you taking shorter shifts than overexerting yourself. Let me know if there's anything I can do to accommodate." the Captain explained, "Don't let pride get in the way of your health." "It is frustrating..." the Drone opened up, showing a moment of vulnerability, "To deal with these constant reminders of the worlds I am trapped between. As much as I embrace my individuality, I can never truly escape the collective." Deet wanted to say something comforting, but she didn't know what to say. She simply hung her head, and gave her old friend a soft pat on the shoulder. The officers arrived in Transporter Room 2, and powered up the transport console. First of Eight entered several adjustments to modify the confinement beam before hailing Engineering to begin the procedure. "Lt. Atom, we're ready up here." "Very well, proceed." The android's voice responded. "Establishing a lock. This is an incredibly dense computer core... I've never seen anything like it." the Borg informed. "Can you isolate any specific sample of data? Maybe we can extrapolate its purpose from there." Deet asked. First of Eight was stunned by the amount of data to pull from, "There are dozens of individual data nodes. I'm going to pull one full node up." The transporter console whirred and buzzed for a long moment before Atom called back over the Comm, "This is too much data, I can't maintain the transfer into the computer core." First of Eight studied the fragments of the pattern that flashed through her console as the data transferred, suddenly they looked familiar. "Captain, I believe this is a matter stream. Permission to attempt materialization." "A matter stream?" the Captain was taken aback, "Could this be a person?" "A person, an animal, a chair; it could be nearly anything Captain; but we need to make a decision before the pattern degrades." "Deet to Quallo," the Captain tapped her comm badge, "Have a security team sent to transporter room 2." She turned back to the Borg Engineer, "Go ahead. Energize." The pattern flickered on the transporter pad for a long moment, "I'm going to try to boost the confinement by diverting power from auxiliary." First of Eight informed the captain. "Very well." A young copper-skinned man materialized from the data stream. He was dressed simply in a loose grey shirt and black pants, his white hair was buzzed short against his smooth scalp, stopping just above his vented ears. He spoke with calm trepidation, "What vessel is this?" Captain Deet stepped forward, "This is the Federation Starship Federalist, I am Captain Aznia Deet. We mean you no harm." "The others?" the Alien's concern shifted. "There were 117 people aboard the Lyviron." "The Lyviron?" Aznia asked, "Is that the name of the data capsule we retrieved you from?" "No." the Alien responded, "Our patterns were stored in the retrieval ark when the Lyviron lost power for life support." "It's an escape pod." Aznia spoke aloud to herself in realization. She turned to First of Eight, "Can you begin transporting the others from the pod, Commander?" "I believe so, Captain. But we will need to divert additional power to the transporters. It may take some time to retrieve them all." "I was the head Engineer aboard the Lyviron, perhaps I can assist." the alien suggested. Aznia nodded as he moved beside First of Eight at the control panel. "My name is Tyle." the man spoke to First of Eight directly as he manipulated the foreign control schematic like a seasoned veteran. "My people are in your debt." First of Eight only nodded politely as she struggled to keep up with his pace of work. "Your name?" the alien continued. The Chief Engineer stalled for a moment, gazing over at her inquisitor, "First of Eight. I am Chief Engineer aboard this vessel." "I didn't want to assume based on your implants, but that certainly seems like a Borg designation." "Correct." she sternly answered, "I was liberated from the collective five years ago." "You choose to keep your Borg designation?" he inquired again. First of Eight tried to remain focused on her work in the face of the uncomfortable question. Tyle sensed her discomfort, and backed off the questioning. The uncomfortable Drone quickly returned the conversation to work "The modifications are complete. I believe we are ready to transport a group of your people aboard. I recommend we transport no more than five at a time." Tyle nodded as the transporter pad hummed to life. --- After over 20 transporter cycles, the Rivory crew had fully transferred aboard the Federalist. An older male Rivory had established himself as the leader of the crew. Captain Deet arranged to meet the man as soon as he came aboard. "Captain Deet." the older Rivory man stepped toward the Captain, "I am Prime Officer Silip of the Rivory Science Vessel Lyviron. On behalf of my crew, sincerest thanks." "We are happy to be of assistance, Prime Officer." The Rivory Commander let his guard down a bit, "Captain, I was very surprised to encounter a Federation vessel this far out from your space. Are you lost?" "You know of the Federation?" Deet was surprised, "I don't believe we have ever made contact with the Rivory." The alien smiled widely, "Of course, Captain. I'm sure you understand the need to conceal your presence from less developed races. The Rivory are careful not to interfere or intrude on other species throughout the galaxy. The consequences can be disastrous." "We have a very similar philosophy." Deet answered, "But surely you must have some relationship with neighboring species?" "We do." the man nodded, "But we try to limit contact with species who are limited to a very small portion of the galaxy. Our ability to evade detection and to localize our presence has served us very well. But in some cases, we do have mishaps." "It would seem that no level of technological innovation will ever eliminate those." Deet joked. The Rivory man smiled widely, chuckling, "No, and sometimes it seems that they even become more widespread." "Well, our ship may not be much compared to Rivory standards, but I hope we can make you and your crew comfortable until we return you to your people." "I hope you don't think we're looking down on your people, Captain. Few cultures in the galaxy would be as welcoming and kind as you. In that regard- a regard far more important than technological innovation- you are a very advanced species. But I must ask, is this ship limited to warp speeds?" "At the moment, yes." Aznia answered, "But that's actually why we're out here. We're hoping to establish a network of subspace graviton catapults, allowing our vessels to traverse great distances at transwarp speeds." "Ah..." a sense of wonder overtook Silip's voice, "Perhaps we can look forward to calling you an ally sooner than we expected!" "I would like that very much, Silip." "Unfortunately, our homeworld is a great distance from here. I don't think it would be practical for us to bring you there at this speed." the Prime Officer lamented, "If you would permit one of my officers access to a subspace communications array, we can call for rescue." "Certainly. If I may ask, why didn't your retrieval ark transmit a rescue beacon? We happened upon you by no more than dumb luck." "Without getting into too much detail, our Proximity to the Neutron star disrupted several systems. It seemed to drain our power core rapidly and washed out any transmissions we sent. We used a device not until your transporter systems to convert our matter into a data pattern, so that it could be stored in a computer core until help arrived. We're lucky you found us when you did." "There are stories of Federation officers surviving shipwrecks using a similar technique." Aznia explained, "Though in our case, it's certainly far from standard procedure." "It's amazing how some minds can jump centuries ahead of their time, when faced with problems of survival Captain." "Well, Prime Officer, if there's anything we can do to make you more comfortable, my crew is of your avail." "Thank you, Captain." Silip bowed his head, "Be sure that your graciousness is not going unnoticed." --- Tyle stepped through the doors of engineering accompanied by a security escort. They approached First of Eight who was working at a nearby console. "Commander," Lieutenant Bohannon interrupted the Borg's work, "The Captain was hoping you could help Tyle send a subspace message to the Rivory homeworld." First of Eight turned back, addressing the security officer. "Very well, you're dismissed." Bohannon turned to exit engineering, leaving Tyle with First of Eight. "I do want to apologize for earlier." Tyle explained, "I was only curious." "Do not worry about it." the Chief Engineer insisted, turning to the communications access console. "Our people communicate on a very specific subspace carrier wave, so that we can filter out long range transmissions. May I make a modification here?" "Very well," she watched closely as he augmented the transmission. "Ok, this should do it. I've signaled for a Rivory ship to rendezvous with our current position. They should arrive within a few hours." "Is there anything else we can assist you with?" the Drone inquired. "No. That should be all." Tyle nodded graciously, "Unless you'd be interested in a quick meal before we part ways." First of Eight evaded the proposition, "I am afraid not, I need to return to my quarters so I may regenerate." Tyle raised an eyebrow, "Regenerate? You still need to maintain your Borg technology? I..." he hesitated, "I think I might be able to help you." --- Captain Deet sat on the bridge as the gleaming white Rivory vessel dropped out of transwarp nearby. "They're hailing, Captain." Quallo reported. "On screen." Another female Rivory Prime Officer greeted Captain Deet, "I am Prime Officer Velys of the Cruise Raitha. Do I understand you have the crew of the Lyviron aboard?" "That's right. We're prepared to transfer the personnel immediately." Deet got right to business. "We would be honored to have you and your senior staff aboard for a meal, Captain." Velys explained, "It's the least we could do to show our appreciation." "It will be our honor." Deet accepted the invitation. "We will prepare to receive you after the transfer is complete. Thank you Captain." The viewscreen cut out. Aznia tapped a panel on the arm of her chair, activating the ship's intercom, "Attention all decks, we are in contact with the Rivory Cruiser Raitha, all Rivory report to transporter rooms for transfer." Relatively quickly, all Rivory personnel filtered into the Federalist's transporter rooms, until only Silip, Tyle and two other senior officers remained. Aznia met the final group in Transporter Room two, joined by Quallo, Atom and First of Eight. The mixed group of officers all took their places on the transporter pad. Chief Volor energized the transporter, sending them to the Rivory ship. "Welcome to the Raitha," Velys greeted the party in the brightly lit, gleaming white-walled, sterile transporter room. "If you'd accompany me, we've prepared our state room with a feast in your honor. "Thank you Prime Officer." Aznia bowed her head. "Captain," First of Eight interrupted, "Tyle was going to show me a few tricks with the Rivory transporter systems, if you don't mind?" Aznia turned to Velys, who nodded approvingly. "Remember to keep specifics to a minimum." "Of course." Tyle noted. The officers all left the room, leaving only First of Eight and Tyle behind. "OK, let me show you the temporal confinement beam." Tyle gestured for the Drone to join him at the control panel. He explained the process displayed on the console. "We have the ability to scan matter at a temporal level. Not only can we establish a lock on your body here and now, we can resequence the matter and energy patterns to virtually any moment in their history." "Are you saying you can transport someone away from the past?" First of Eight asked. "No." Tyle explained, "We don't actually have the ability to affect the past, rather we can use the past as a template by which to restructure the matter here and now. For instance, an individual with an advanced terminal illness can be resequenced into a previous version of themselves, where preventative measures can be taken. An elderly person on the brink of death can be resequenced back into a child, or back into the prime of their life." "Fascinating. So this would allow a Borg drone to be resequenced into a state prior to assimilation?" "We've used it for that very purpose." Tyle explained. "Unfortunately, there's one critical problem with this process." "An individual would not remember anything after the resequencer's reference point." First of Eight predicted aloud. "Right. If a person is resequenced to their childhood, their childhood is all they will remember. If a drone is returned to a point prior to assimilation, she will remember nothing after her assimilation." He warned. "I am not the person I once was," She pondered aloud, "but I will sacrifice myself to save that person. I will do it." "Very well. Step up onto the transporter." he hesitated, "Tell me one thing. What is your name?" "Nikki Rahal." she stepped into position. "I'm ready here. Farewell First of Eight." The transporter engaged as First of Eight dematerialized before Tyle's eyes. As she rematerialized, her skin tone brightened, her Borg implants faded away, her eyes brightened and her uniform changed from vivid gold to an older black and gray Starfleet variant. Nikki Rahal materialized on the transporter pad, stunned to gaze around the gleaming white room. "What vessel is this?" the hopeful young officer inquired. "Nikki." Tyle calmed her, "What is the last thing you remember?" "I was aboard the Borg unimatrix vessel. Admiral Deet had just called for the team to beam out. How did I end up aboard this ship?" "This is going to be hard to accept, Nikki." Tyle calmed the weary young officer, "That was 14 years ago." "No. I was just on the Borg vessel a moment ago. That can't be true." "Please try to accept what I am saying." Tyle reassured her, "You were assimilated by the Borg that day. You spent nine years as a Borg drone, and you've struggled for five additional years to reassert your individuality. We've used a temporal transporter device to resequenced your pattern to your current state." "That's ridiculous. You can't just..." "Please, Nikki." Tyle interrupted, "Would you like to speak to your Captain?" Rahal scanned the room quickly, she made a sudden decision to dart for the door. Tyle quickly tapped a button on the control console to seal the room. He turned to a communication panel, "Captain Deet, I'm sorry to interrupt, but can you meet us in the Transporter room?" In a matter of moments, Aznia arrived in the transporter room. She immediately found a tense standoff between the Rivory Engineer and a long lost friend. "Nikki?" Aznia was stunned to see Rahal standing there as if a day hadn't passed since she was lost to the Borg. "Who are you?" Rahal recoiled from Deet, unfamiliar with her current host. "What have you done?" Aznia turned to Tyle, "How is this possible?" "It's a temporal confinement transporter, Captain." the Rivory explained, "I locked onto her pattern at a moment in the space time continuum shortly before her assimilation. I was able to extract and resequence her pattern to fully restore her to her original form. But that includes her memories." "So, the last five years?" Aznia shook her head in disbelief, "Just gone?" "What are you saying?" Rahal interrupted, "I've been transported into the future?" "Oh, Nikki..." Aznia sighed, "The Unimatrix Vessel... that was fourteen years ago. The vessel unexpectedly retreated to transwarp when they discovered our plan. The transporter was only able to get a lock on two of us. You were left behind." "You mean I..." "You were assimilated into the collective. You spent nine years as a Borg drone. And not a day went by that I wasn't haunted by that fact." Aznia explained, "Five years ago, I received word that a Borg Sphere had been disabled in the Typhon sector. Starfleet saw the opportunity to liberate some of the surviving drones, they did genetic tests on each of them to try and find their original identity. You were among them. They brought you to the maximum security Borg rehabilitation center at Port Aux France on Earth, for 7 months your Borg implants were disassembled, and your individuality was reestablished. You weren't the same person you were before, but you fought for the person you became. You took back your life." Rahal was blown away by the revelation, she didn't really believe it. Her mind raced to find another explanation, but she was pulled back to one question, "Who are you?" "My name is Aznia." the Captain explained, "Aznia Deet." "Deet?" Rahal stepped forward, "You mean you're..." "Three years ago, Edinger was killed in a fire fight with a Sheliak battle cruiser." she explained, "Now I'm the host of the Deet Symbiont." Rahal just shook her head in disbelief. "There's too much riding on this mission for us to worry about fear." Aznia quoted. "That's what you told me in the mission briefing before we beamed over. You faced the Borg with poise and bravery." "Because I never imagined it would turn out this way." She wondered aloud, "Now I'm here and the person I was is just gone?" "She was willing to sacrifice the person she'd become to bring you back." Tyle explained. Rahal shook her head, "No. It's not right. Can you restore my pattern to how she was?" "You'd be Borg again, you'd carry the physical, psychological and technological troubles that have plagued you. You wouldn't be Nikki Rahal, you'd be First of Eight." Tyle advocated for her to stay. Aznia countered, "You'd be the person you became. I might be looking at this selfishly, but you and I, we've both struggled with change. We've gone through this together, and I am proud of the person you became, Nikki. It was a hard path, it continues to be a life wrought with pain. But with that pain comes immense strength. I miss this Nikki Rahal, but I would also miss First of Eight. I'm not going to force you to make any decision... but I think you've come too far to throw it away." Rahal nodded, tears of fear welling in her eyes about the future she was accepting. "Bring her back." Aznia sighed in relief and sadness all at once looking up at Rahal one last time as she re-took her place on the transporter platform, "Nikki, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry we didn't save you." Rahal sadly smiled, "Don't do that. The mission was a success, no matter what the result, it was worth it. I would never dream of blaming anyone for that." Aznia nodded as Tyle energized the temporal confinement beam again, First of Eight reemerged as if she'd never gone. "Was there a problem." she immediately addressed Tyle, wondering why she was still there. "Nikki didn't feel it was right." Aznia informed the Engineer, "She believed the woman she'd become was worth saving. She was ready to face the challenges in front of her. Are you?" --- The Federalist crew returned home, and the Rivory vessel prepared to bring their colleagues home. The Rivory Prime Officer hailed the Federalist one last time before leaving. "Captain, I want to apologize again for the situation with your Chief Engineer. Tyle had no right to..." Aznia waved her hand, "He was only trying to help. It may have been misguided, but his intentions were honorable. I consider the matter closed." The Rivory commander smiled, "Aznia Deet, you and your culture are enlightened beyond your years. Believe me, we've taken notice. We look forward to our next encounter. Raitha out." The Rivory vessel vanished in a sudden flash, leaving the Federalist to rejoin its convoy. First of Eight reported from the engineering station, "I believe the next best candidate for a staging area is the Pictor Iota system. We can be there in 14 hours." Aznia turned back looking the Chief Engineer in the eye, "Let's keep moving forward. Make it so.""
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