Star Trek™:
Corps of Engineers

Turn the Page by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

Troubleshooting by Robert Greenberger

The Light by Jeff D. Jacques

COMING SOON:

The Art of the Comeback by Glenn Greenberg

Signs from Heaven by Phaedra M. Weldon

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Chapter

1

A s Sonya Gomez lay in bed and stared at the remarkably dull ceiling, she wondered, not for the first time, whether anyone would notice if she snuck into an airlock and shot herself into the void of space. Being the middle of shipboard night, she could probably do it. Alarms would go off once she did the deed, of course, and her gamma-shift crewmates would act quickly to beam her back once they realized someone was floating about in the frigid vacuum. Within ten seconds, she’d be beamed directly to sickbay, where valiant attempts would be made to revive her. They would, sadly, fail. At least, they would in this particular scenario of morbid speculation.

Gomez sighed morosely and closed her eyes, giving her head a chiding shake in the process. No, that would be taking the easy way out. But how the hell was she going to face Fabian in the morning after what had happened? Or Corsi? Or herself in the damn mirror? What had she been thinking?

It had started out easily enough—which should have been her first indication that disaster would rear its head before long. As head of the da Vinci’s S.C.E. team, she was no stranger to missions that appeared fairly simple at the outset, but proved to be—often at the most inopportune time—to be anything but. But this hadn’t been a mission. It had been a simple visit with a good friend.

Simple.

“Commander,” Fabian Stevens said when the door to the cabin he shared with Bart Faulwell swished open. If the expression on the tactical specialist’s face was any indication, Gomez must have looked as bad as she felt: glassy eyes, tear-streaked face, rat’s-nest hair—in a word, pathetic. “Are you all right?”

“I’m a wreck, Fabian,” Gomez said, in case it wasn’t immediately apparent by her appearance. As an officer in a leadership position, it wasn’t an easy admission for her to make, but if she was here to bare her soul to Stevens, then she might as well start right away. “Do you have a few minutes?”

“Of course. C’mon in,” he said and stepped aside. “Can I get you something? Some tea, Earl Grey, hot, perhaps?” he asked with a grin. But Gomez wasn’t in the mood for levity, and once that realization hit Fabian, his expression faltered.

“No, thank you. Wait,” she amended immediately with a shake of her head. “Yes, I do. Some tea would be nice.”

Stevens gave her a bemused look. “You’re sure now? I don’t want to force anything on you….” Gomez flashed him the I’m-not-in-the-mood expression she often inflicted upon Tev. “Right. Tea it is.” He grinned and went to the replicator. “Have a seat, Commander.”

“We’re off duty, Fabian,” Gomez told him. “Right now, I’m just Sonya.”

“Okay.” The replicator hummed softly, and Stevens reached in for the tea.

Gomez glanced around the room as she moved toward the small centralized couch. “Bart’s not here?” she asked, though clearly Fabian’s roomie wasn’t.

“No, he’s out wandering the ship,” Stevens said as he moved to join her. Bart Faulwell, the ship’s linguist and cryptography specialist, didn’t maintain normal sleeping hours, so while most people assigned to alpha shift were snuggled in their beds, awaiting the dawn of the next day, Bart could be found doing some research, or studying a mission-specific alien language, or nursing a French roast coffee while he wrote a new letter to his other half, Anthony Mark—though he hadn’t been doing much of the latter lately. “He only left about fifteen minutes ago, so I don’t expect him back anytime soon.”

Stevens handed her the cup of tea, and Gomez accepted it with thanks as he sat next to her. The scent of bergamot tickled her nose as she brought the cup to her lips and blew on the steaming liquid. But rather than take a sip, she set it down on the low table in front of her. All the while, she felt Stevens’s eyes watching her closely.

“No offense, Sonya, but you really do look like a wreck,” he said. “Did something happen? You seemed okay earlier.”

“I’ve been keeping it contained,” Gomez said. She moved her legs up and sat cross-legged on the couch, leaning back against the ample cushion. And it’s tearing me apart.

“Ah, the old Vulcan trick,” Stevens said with a nod, always ready to keep things light, even when it wasn’t called for. “Not always a wise tactic if your ears aren’t pointed.” When Gomez allowed the joke to pass over her head, Stevens turned serious again. He placed a hand on one of her jutting knees and gave it a gentle squeeze. “C’mon, Sonya, what’s going on?”

Sonya sighed and already felt her eyes growing moist. “It’s…It’s Kieran.”

Stevens’s eyebrows lifted upon hearing the name of his deceased best friend. “What does Duff have to do with this?” Kieran Duffy, Stevens’s best friend on the da Vinci and Gomez’s lover and might-have-
been husband, had perished along with half the crew during the ill-fated Galvan VI mission ten months ago.

“Everything,” Gomez said, then shook her head. No, that wasn’t entirely true. What am I doing, blaming the dead guy for my problems? I thought I was past this. “I don’t know, I…everything and nothing.”

Stevens frowned again and gave his hairline a quick scratch. “Uh, Sonya, that…you’re not really making any sense.”

“I know!” Gomez blurted, splayed fingers quivering at the side of her head in frustration. “And that’s part of the problem, isn’t it? I barely understand what I’m thinking myself.” She took a breath, then let it out slowly. Okay, here it comes. “Do you remember Captain Omthon?”

Stevens nodded. “The green guy, sure. Cappy, wasn’t it?”

“Pappy,” Gomez corrected. “And his name is Wayne, if you want to be specific.” She’d only thought of Wayne occasionally since their failed rendezvous at Recreational Station Hidalgo, and while his absence had been disappointing, her stay there hadn’t been completely uneventful. This was due in large part to a couple of distractions, namely the dashing Tobias Shelt, who had rescued her from having to spend her vacation alone, and the little fact that a simulacrum of herself had taken Hidalgo hostage.

“Okay,” Stevens said. “Wayne. You two have been trying to get together for a while, right?”

“Trying, being the key word. First it was the Strata spinning ship that kept us from meeting up at Galor IV, then he had to cancel our shore leave together at Hidalgo. It’s like Fate is doing its damned best to keep us apart. And I do want to get together with him, Fabian, like you wouldn’t believe.” Not that spending time with Tobias had been a drag, but it had made her long for Wayne even more. Gomez paused to wipe a tear that had spilled down her cheek. And why the hell hadn’t she called him in the six months since then to set something else up? Was she afraid of being turned down, of something getting in the way again? “I think I’m overdue for some getting together, if you know what I mean. I know I am. It’s time. He likes me, and I really like him. What could be more perfect? He stirs in me a hunger I haven’t felt in a long time—too long a time—and it’s not just because his skin is the color of pistachio ice cream.”

Stevens shifted in his seat, as though a bit uncomfortable listening to her womanly wants and desires, but Gomez didn’t care about that right now. She was venting, she was on a roll, and he was damn well going to listen.

“Uh, so what’s the problem?” Stevens asked.

“Kieran!” Gomez let out a growl of exasperation and resisted the urge to wrap her fingers around Stevens’s throat to give him a friendly strangle. “God, haven’t you been listening?”

And then Stevens laughed—he actually had the nerve to laugh! At her misery! Had she made a mistake coming here, to unleash her frustrations on a man who saw a joke in every situation?

“Sonya, Sonya, I’m sorry. Here, c’mere.” Grinning, he threw an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close before she had a chance to bluster away. His nearness comforted her, and she allowed herself to melt into his friendly embrace. “I didn’t mean to laugh. I know this is difficult for you. And although I haven’t had much use for my little-known degree in Intergalactic Psychology, I’m going to offer up my own diagnosis.”

Gomez sniffled. “You have a diagnosis for me?”

“Absolutely,” Stevens said. “I won’t even charge you.” See, a joke. Gomez smiled again and waited. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, soothing. “Look, we all reacted to Duff’s death differently. Me, I’d be in the mess hall, and I’d expect him to stroll in at any moment and sit across from me with a quinine water. But I’ve gotten past it. I’ve accepted that he’s gone. With you, though, it’s different. Duff was your man, Sonya. You two were going to get married and live happily ever after. And then he was gone before you could do anything about it. Of course it’s going to take a little longer for you to adjust than the rest of us. You just have to give it time. Don’t rush it. When you’re ready, it’ll happen.”

“But that’s just it, Fabian…I am ready. I want to move on,” Gomez said, and then all at once her emotional barrier dropped like an open floodgate, and words tumbled out of her as her body shuddered with sobs. “As much as I loved Kieran, as much…as much as I wish he was here with me now, I need to move on with my life. It’s not as if I’m waiting for him to miraculously appear out of the ether so we can resume our relationship—that’s ridiculous. But there’s a perfect man out there who…who wants to be with me, who wants to be my friend—and something’s keeping us apart. I don’t know if it’s me, or just coincidence, or…oh, Fabian, I just don’t want to be alone anymore.”

And then she broke down entirely, giving herself a good cry, something she hadn’t known was waiting to get out until it was there, spilling unceremoniously onto Stevens’s shirt. He whispered words of comfort in her ear as he stroked her dark curls. As her sobs subsided, she tilted her head upward and saw Stevens looking at her, a smile of compassion and understanding on his face. He had always been a friend she could count on in a time of need, and he was proving it a hundredfold right now.

So, naturally, that was the moment she chose to kiss him.

It didn’t last long, no more than three seconds, she guessed, but it seemed as though their lips were locked for nothing short of a decade or so. Stevens didn’t return the kiss at all, bless him, and with good reason. He was in a relationship with the ship’s security chief, Domenica Corsi, and as they both knew—as everyone knew—she knew three hundred ways to kill a person, and that was before she even picked up a phaser. If Corsi found out about this, innocent though it was, Stevens’s continued existence—not to mention her own—might soon become far more complicated.

Stevens let out a startled yelp, and a look of terror crossed his face as he scrambled out of reach, crawling backward over the rear of the couch, as though Gomez had just revealed she had the Tarellian plague. “Sonya!” he croaked. “What—what was that?”

Gomez, equally mortified, managed to utter a startled gasp, as she clutched her forehead in shock. She felt the blood drain from her face so quickly she half expected to see it pooling at her feet.

“Oh, God,” she said, backing away from the couch. She almost tripped over the table and staggered about in a daze. An overwhelming feeling of uncertainty claimed her, and for a moment Gomez felt as though she were lost in an alien landscape with no idea how she’d gotten there. Fortunately, the disorientation didn’t last long, and when she recovered her senses, such as they were, her eyes found Stevens still half-crouched behind the sofa as though worried she might come at him again. “I…” she managed, but no more words were forthcoming. What could she say? Sorry about that, buddy? Oops?

With little else she could possibly do to salvage the situation, Gomez turned on her heel and ran the hell out of there as fast as she could.

Almost five hours later, she was no closer to getting any sleep, nor had she come up with a viable solution that would allow her to shrug the incident off. No, this one was going to linger, in a bad way. If she was going to deal with it in a mature professional manner, she was going to need some sleep. Was that so much to ask?

“Gold to Gomez.”

Maybe she had fallen asleep, after all, and the captain’s summons just now was a part of this whole twisted nightmare. That would be ideal.

No such luck. She sighed and leveled her gaze at the ceiling. “Gomez here.”

“I apologize for waking you, Gomez—” I wish, she thought with a roll of her eyes. “—but Starfleet has just given us a priority mission that needs our immediate attention. Have your team assembled in observation in twenty minutes.”

“Acknowledged, sir,” Gomez said, then sat up as her professional mode kicked into gear. This priority mission had her curious. What was so urgent that it couldn’t have waited another three hours?

She rolled out of bed and headed to the sonic shower.

Chapter

2

G omez didn’t exactly take her time getting to the meeting Gold had called, but neither did she make any effort to move any faster than her regular stride. It wasn’t a race, after all, and she would get there eventually.

As she rode the turbolift to the bridge, Gomez wondered if she’d blown things out of proportion with what had happened with Stevens. Was she overreacting? It had been an innocent mistake that had bloomed in the heat of an emotional moment between two close friends. Surely things like that happened all the time. In fact, if she were to tell Corsi about it in the mess hall a day or two from now, they’d probably both get a rousing chuckle out of it.

Like hell.

The lift came to a halt, and Gomez stepped out onto the bridge. Gamma shift was still on duty, and she nodded at Winn Mara at tactical on her way to the observation lounge. As the door parted, she saw that everyone was already assembled around the long conference table, minus the captain, their quiet chatter drifting out as they met her gaze. It’s like they all know, she thought, even though she knew that wasn’t the case. Based on Stevens’s reaction last night, the last thing he’d want to do is blab about it. She glanced quickly at Stevens, and he flashed an awkward smile before finding something of interest on the bare table before him.

Great. We’re off to a wonderful start. “Good morning, everyone,” she said. Maybe if she dove into business, it would allow her to shove the events of last night aside. “I’m sorry for having to wake you up ahead of schedule, but the captain felt it couldn’t wait.”

“Do you have any idea what this is about, Commander?” Corsi asked, turning her blond head in the first officer’s direction.

Gomez held the security chief’s level gaze for a moment. She doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t know anything. “Only that Starfleet has ordered us on a priority mission. Beyond that, we’ll have to wait for an explanation from the captain.”

As if on cue, the door hissed open again, and David Gold entered the room. Gomez took in the expression on Gold’s face and knew something was wrong. Well, not wrong, necessarily, but it was clear something had put him on edge, and she suspected the mission details he’d received from Starfleet were the source of that discomfort.

But as a member of the Starfleet Corps of Engineers, Gomez knew, as did Gold, that they were often given assignments that weren’t ideal. Some of them, such as her experiences on Sarindar, Teneb, and Vemlar had provided some personal close calls she could have done without. And the Galvan VI incident…well, the point was that from one extreme to another, despite the odds, the ship and crew had always come through, working together to come out more or less intact.

Gold paused behind his chair at the head of the table and took them all in with a glance. He inhaled deeply, then let it out as he finally sat down. Gomez couldn’t remember him being so hesitant about discussing a mission and thought he was being a little over-dramatic. How bad can it be?

“All right, there’s no use in my stalling any longer,” Gold said, speaking more to himself, it seemed, than to those gathered before him. “We’ve been ordered to investigate a faint Borg power signature that was picked up on a remote planet deep in this sector two days ago by a Boslic freighter.”

Borg? Okay, that is bad. Like the crack of a whip, Gold’s mention of the Borg snapped everyone in the room to attention, and a flurry of worried and uncertain looks passed from face to face around the table. Gomez herself was unable to suppress an involuntary shudder. Eleven years ago, she’d been aboard the Enterprise-D when they were forced into Starfleet’s first meeting with the cybernetic species. The meddlesome being Q had flung the ship some seven thousand light years to System J-25 in order to illustrate his point that humanity wasn’t ready for what awaited them out in the galaxy. It was an encounter that had claimed the lives of eighteen crewmembers, and one which Gomez had not forgotten. The experience had frightened her enough that, even today, any mention of the Borg gave her pause.

“So, naturally,” said Stevens, “they advised Starfleet.” His voice was light, but Gomez detected a note of cynicism there as well.

Gold acknowledged with a soft grunt. “When it comes to the Borg, Starfleet has become the go-to guys for beating them back. God knows few others have had success at it.”

“That may be so, sir,” Gomez said, “but we’re not equipped to go hunting down the Borg. The da Vinci isn’t exactly armed to the teeth.”

“I’m well aware of that, Gomez,” Gold said, “but we won’t be going into battle. The signal is coming from a cube, but it appears to have crashed on the planet’s surface a long time ago.”

“How long?” asked Corsi.

“At least two decades before Wolf 359, based on the information Scotty passed along to me,” Gold said, referring to their Starfleet liaison, the legendary engineer Montgomery Scott.

Gomez shook her head. A Borg cube in Federation space twenty years before they were first seen here? It didn’t make any sense. How could it not have been detected by long range observatories or nearby starships? And why, after all this time, hadn’t the Borg returned to retrieve the vessel or any drones that might have survived?

“An advanced team from the Hood has been onsite since day one and has deemed it safe,” Gold continued, then glanced at Gomez. “It’s the power signature inside the cube that you and your team need to contend with. The output is negligible enough that it doesn’t reach far beyond the planet, but Starfleet doesn’t want to take any chances. They want the power shut down.”

Aside from the Borg factor, this all seemed fairly routine to Gomez. The specifications of Borg cubes could be easily accessed by any starship in the service, so she still wasn’t clear why the S.C.E. was being sent. She voiced this concern to Gold, adding, “The Hood is already onsite. Wouldn’t it be simpler for them to send a team in to turn the thing off?”

“Under normal circumstances, yes,” Gold said, “but there’s another element to this, and Scotty wants Starfleet’s best engineers to look into it.” He paused to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “There’s apparently an odd energy distribution pattern that indicates the power is no longer being directed throughout the ship, but rather below the surface.”

“That is peculiar,” said P8 Blue from her specially-designed seat at the opposite end of the table. The Nasat’s comment was accompanied by a tinkling sound that indicated the insectoid engineer’s growing interest. “This would also explain why the cube appears dormant despite the minimal active power flow.”

“I concur,” said computer specialist Soloman, the lone Bynar on the ship.

Gomez had to admit, her own curiosity was piqued. Although she still believed this was a task that the Hood’s engineering team could readily deal with, part of Gomez was glad that her team would be the one to investigate the mystery, despite the fact it was centered around a Borg cube.

“If, for whatever reason, you’re unable to shut the power down, our orders are to clear the site and destroy the cube,” Gold said. “Any questions?”

Sitting opposite Gomez, Mor glasch Tev, the da Vinci’s Tellarite second officer, cleared his throat roughly and raised a stubby index finger. “Perhaps I’m missing something here, Captain, but why are we complicating matters by looking into this power distribution anomaly? We’re talking about a Borg cube. Why not just destroy the thing and be done with it?”

“Because we’re the S.C.E., Tev,” said Gold. “It’s our job to investigate engineering anomalies. And as I’ve already mentioned, the cube shows no signs of any danger. I can appreciate your reticence where the Borg are concerned; I’m sure we can all relate in one way or another. But I assure you, we wouldn’t be going anywhere near that ship if I didn’t think it was safe.”

“Very well, sir,” Tev said, “although I still have my reservations.”

“So noted,” Gold said, then glanced at the rest of them. “Any other questions?”

When no one else spoke up, Gomez said, “All clear, sir.”

“Excellent.” Gold rose from his chair and fixed his eye on Gomez. “We’ll reach the planet in just over four hours, so you have until then to review the data and prepare a mission plan.”

Gomez stood as well and bobbed her head. “Aye, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Soloman almost sent Dantas Falcão sprawling to the deck as he sprang out of the turbolift the moment the doors parted. The attractive human female, the da Vinci’s medical technician, avoided the collision by twisting out of the way at the last second, completing a graceful three-hundred-and-sixty-degree pirouette before falling softly against the bulkhead. The impromptu display was one of the most impressive evasive maneuvers the diminutive Bynar had ever seen.

Unfortunately, he was late for the meeting Commander Gomez had called in the mess hall to discuss their upcoming Borg mission, and there was no time to compliment Falcão on her impressive feat of acrobatic legerdemain. He’d been in sickbay when the team was summoned, and Dr. Lense didn’t see the need to interrupt his annual physical.

“I’m sure they can do without you for a little while,” the increasingly pregnant Lense had said as she passed her tricorder near his thoracic region. Soloman had reluctantly agreed, though it pained him that he was going to be late.

Once Lense was through with him, however, he’d darted out of there as fast as his legs would take him, making his way through the ship as though his very life was at stake.

“I’m so sorry!” he called over his shoulder at Falcão.

Falcão smiled and gave him a wave. “No harm done.”

Soloman smiled back, then picked up his pace again. In moments he passed through the mess hall doors and saw his associates sitting around a table in the far corner. In addition to Gomez, present at the table were Fabian Stevens, Tev, P8 Blue, and Lieutenant Commander Corsi, who would be heading up the security detail for the inevitable away mission. Notably absent were Bart Faulwell and Carol Abramowitz, though based on the mission parameters Captain Gold had outlined, there did not seem to be any need for a linguist or a cultural specialist on the mission. Soloman hadn’t expected the group to wait for him, but he was still a little disappointed to see them already immersed in discussion. He hoped he hadn’t missed anything significant.

“Ah, there he is,” Gomez said as he approached. She gestured to the empty chair next to Fabian Stevens, and he quickly took his seat.

“I apologize for being late.”

“That’s all right,” Gomez said, “we were just discussing what our tasks should be for the upcoming mission.” Soloman listened as she quickly outlined what had been determined in his absence. Stevens and Pattie would be responsible for accessing the power core and finding a way to shut it down, while he and Tev would research any pertinent data the away team would need once they reached the Borg cube’s power core.

Soloman’s heart fell at the implication. “I won’t be joining you on the away team?”

“I’m afraid not, Soloman,” Gomez said. “We need to limit the team to as few as necessary, plus we’ll be taking some security personnel as well. At the moment, you’ll be the most use to us here, pulling up data that will help us in the cube.”

Soloman nodded. He understood that the specialized skills of the S.C.E. team members were not always needed for every mission, nor was it necessary for certain individuals to beam down to a mission site in order to be of the most use. Still, he always felt a small pang of disappointment when he was left behind. He enjoyed visiting new worlds and seeing what kind of technology was used by alien cultures, and he doubted he would have many other opportunities to examine Borg technology firsthand. But depending on how the mission went, there could be an opportunity for him yet.

“I understand,” he said, then glanced at Tev. “I am sure with Commander Tev’s assistance, we will make an effective team.”

“I look forward to working with you, Specialist,” Tev said.

Soloman nodded in response. Six months ago, the Tellarite would have made a comment that would have been at once aggrandizing to himself and belittling to Soloman, but repeated rebukes from Gold and Gomez—as well, according to rumor, as some enforced sensitivity training in the hololab—had served to soften Tev’s bluster a bit. Slowly but surely, he was actually becoming a team player.

“Well,” Stevens said, rubbing his hands together, “who’s up for some pre-mission beverages? We’ve got a few hours to kick back until we drop in on the Hood.”

“Are you buying?” P8 Blue asked.

Stevens grinned. “Of course.”

Tev emitted a soft snort. “Despite the fact that there’s no monetary value assigned to replicator food and drink, I accept your offer.”

“Will wonders never cease,” Stevens said.

“Considering you’ve just ‘bought’ us all drinks, my guess would be no,” Tev said, and this garnered a chuckle or two from the Tellarite’s crewmates.

“I think I’ll pass,” Gomez said and stood up. “I’ve got some things to do to prepare for the mission.”

“Are you sure, Commander?” Stevens asked.

Gomez looked at Stevens for a long moment as she considered the question—longer than seemed necessary, Soloman thought. It was as though they were communicating telepathically, but Soloman knew neither of the humans had that particular skill. He glanced at the others to see if they had similar thoughts, but no one appeared to notice anything was wrong—not even Commander Corsi, who was watching their silent exchange with a level expression.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Gomez said at last. “Thanks anyway.” She turned and left the room without another word. It seemed odd that she wouldn’t join them for a drink, but Soloman supposed that as the head of their team she did have other preparations to make before they arrived at the mission site.

“What was that all about?” Corsi asked, her eyes shifting to Stevens.

“I dunno,” Stevens replied, then shrugged as he turned back to the table. “I guess she wasn’t thirsty. I’ll be right back with those drinks.”

As Stevens left the table, Soloman noticed that Corsi’s gaze did not waver from the retreating tactical specialist. This wasn’t surprising, considering the pair were engaged in a relationship; Soloman supposed, as the human expression went, she just couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. After a few moments, Corsi shrugged off her distraction and turned back to the group.

“What do you have to do to get some real service in this place?” she asked casually.

“Get up and get your drink yourself,” Tev suggested. Not surprisingly, Corsi fixed the Tellarite with a scowl that was surprisingly more sedate than those she usually reserved for him.

“That really is the only option,” Pattie said. “Unless you want to apply for a waitressing job.”

Corsi puckered her lips a bit as though she were contemplating whether or not to react in the manner her instincts probably wanted her to. Finally she just said, “No thanks. I’ll just stick with Stevens for the time being.”

“Suit yourself,” Pattie said with a cheery tinkle. “But we could really use a waitress in here.”

Stevens returned and set a platter of small glasses filled with a reddish liquid on the center of their table. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing lethal. Just a little something I concocted.”

“In that case, perhaps we should be wary of its toxicity,” Tev said with a snort. This prompted a few chuckles from around the table, including Stevens himself.

“Funny,” Stevens said. “Okay, glasses up.” Mirroring his crewmates, Soloman raised his glass in the customary toasting fashion. “To success on the upcoming mission. May we get through it without being assimilated.”

“Hear hear,” Corsi said and drained her glass in one gulp.

“Success,” Soloman said in tune with the others.

“Qapla’.”

Everyone turned upon hearing the Klingon word, and Soloman was pleased to see Bart Faulwell approaching the table.

“Is this a private party or can anyone join in?” the linguist asked.

Stevens grinned as he sat down. “Well, it is an exclusive gathering…but we’ll make an exception for you, Bart.”

“You’re too kind,” Faulwell said as he slipped into the seat Commander Gomez had vacated.

Soloman smiled. It was times like these—before a mission even started—that he was glad to be a part of the S.C.E. team on the da Vinci. The camaraderie they shared always made completing their tasks much easier than they had any right to be, and he had a feeling this upcoming Borg-related mission would need all the smoothness it could get.

Chapter

3

W ith the prospect of exploring a Borg cube on her day’s agenda, Domenica Corsi had wanted to take a full complement of security personnel with her to the surface of the planet, armed to the teeth with phaser rifles and no-nonsense attitudes. The idea wasn’t at all out of line as far as she was concerned. Venturing inside one of the vessels wasn’t exactly a run-of-the-mill experience, particularly considering the unease and fear that was associated with the race of cybernetic bad guys. It was better to be safe than assimilated, after all, and despite all assurances that the site was safe and secure, Corsi preferred to determine that on her own terms. Besides, those cubes were huge, and there was no telling where a stray drone or two might be lurking in wait.

In the end, however, Gomez granted her a team of two plus herself, citing again that the mission didn’t warrant so much security because there weren’t any living Borg on the cube to worry about. Corsi argued that it was better to have half a dozen armed guards when only three were needed than only have three and discover that you needed more. It seemed logical to her, but Gomez felt that one security person per engineer was sufficient. Corsi didn’t like it, but she’d have to live with the fact that she, her deputy security chief Vance Hawkins, and Tomozuka Kim would be the extent of the away team’s protection.

As the security team materialized on the surface of the planet with Gomez, Stevens, and Blue, Corsi didn’t really expect an army of Borg to be waiting with open arms. But the sight of the massive cube ship’s remains was enough to give her a sense of foreboding and mild anxiety. It was partially embedded in the turf near the edge of a wooded area and towered over them like a forgotten sentinel.

“Well, well, well, it’s about time.”

The loud voice managed to pull Corsi’s attention from the cube to a male Starfleet lieutenant who approached her and the others with a smirk on his slightly stubbled face. Three officers milling about a makeshift camp behind him made no move to follow, but they did look up with interest and appeared relieved that Corsi and the others had arrived. As the lieutenant drew near, Corsi could almost see the word “obnoxious” emblazoned on his forehead in bright red lettering.

“I wasn’t aware that our arrival was so eagerly anticipated,” Gomez said with a smile as she moved past Corsi to greet the man. “I’m Commander Gomez from the da Vinci. This is Lieutenant Commander Corsi, Chief Hawkins, and Crewpersons Stevens, Kim, and Blue,” Gomez said, indicating each of them with a nod.

“Lieutenant Gibson, from the Hood,” the officer said by way of introduction, then glanced down at Pattie. “A Nasat. It’s a pleasure. I’ve never met a member of your species before.”

“I hope your first time was a memorable one,” Pattie said with a tinkle of amusement.

“Believe me, after six hours stewing next to this thing,” Gibson said with a gesture at the cube, “you’ve definitely made my day.” He turned and gestured to the trio behind him. “That’s Ensign Jones, Ensign Abrams, and Chief Featherstone.”

At the mention of the latter name, Stevens perked up. “No way,” he said. His eyes lit up, and he didn’t hold back a grin as he walked past Corsi like she wasn’t even there, moving swiftly toward the other crewmembers from the Hood. “Heart-of-Stone, is that really you?”

Featherstone, an attractive woman with fair skin and long hair the color of wet rust, looked up at Stevens as he approached and broke into a grin herself. “I’ll be damned. Fabian Stevens, long time no see.”

Corsi felt her jaw tighten as Stevens and Featherstone gave each other a quick friendly embrace before proceeding to babble like two long-lost friends.

“It appears they know each other,” Gomez observed dryly.

“Yes, it does.” The twinge of annoyance in her own voice surprised Corsi, particularly since she knew there was nothing to be annoyed about. They were just two acquaintances, seeing each other after what had apparently been several years. And even if something more had gone on between them, so what? It obviously wasn’t an issue now. But Gomez must have seen something in her expression, because she fixed Corsi with an odd look.

“What?”

“You okay?” Gomez asked.

“Of course,” said Corsi as she met her look. “I just don’t work well with jealousy.”

“I’m shocked,” Gomez said with a smile that didn’t seem entirely there. In fact, her whole expression seemed somewhat clouded to Corsi.

“Don’t worry, Commander,” said Corsi. “I’m not going to march over there and slit her throat.”

Gomez nodded vaguely. “I’d appreciate that.”

“So would I,” Lieutenant Gibson said with a grin. “We kind of like her on the Hood. Uh, Commander Gomez, I take it you’re here to relieve us of Borg babysitting duty?” he asked as though trying to steer the conversation back to more pressing matters.

“That’s right,” Gomez said, turning back. “Anything to report?”

“Not a thing,” he said, turning toward the cube. The wrecked vessel cast a dark shadow across the hillside to the north. “Except for the the faint power signature, the thing is as dead as a grave.”

“What about the interior?” Gomez asked. “Anything we need to know before we go in?”

Gibson shook his head. “We’ve completed routine scans every few hours since we arrived yesterday, and we haven’t detected any lifesigns.”

Corsi had only been half-listening to Gibson’s voice as he and Gomez spoke, but this last remark was enough to pull her attention away from Stevens and the redhead. “You haven’t gone inside yourself?”

Gibson turned and fixed her with a look. “Those weren’t our orders, Commander. We were told to secure the site and determine that it was safe. That’s what we did.”

“And how can you determine that with one hundred percent accuracy if you don’t even go inside to visually inspect the interior?” Corsi asked.

Gibson pulled the tricorder from the holder on his hip and waggled it in his hand. “We find that these are very helpful for that sort of work. If they don’t beep a certain way, then there’s nobody inside.”

“Watch your tone, Lieutenant,” Gomez said crisply.

Gibson started at the rebuke and looked down at his boots. He shook his head, then regarded Gomez and Corsi again. “I’m sorry. I guess this place has put me a little on edge. It’s not exactly the cheeriest place I’ve ever been, and between you and me, it’s creepy as hell.”

“I hear you, Lieutenant,” Gomez said as she glanced at the silver-gray monstrosity.

Corsi followed her gaze, her annoyance abating. She certainly couldn’t blame him for being a little nervy. She was feeling the same thing, and she’d only been here five minutes.

“Trust me, Commander, our scans were thorough,” Gibson said. “If there were any Borg in there, they would have come out by now. Besides, the place has been dead for years. I’m surprised the thing has power at all.”

“So are we,” Gomez said. “And that’s why we’re here.”

Gibson nodded. “Well, good luck with that.” With a nod at them both, he turned and walked back toward his crewmates. “Wrap up your reunion, Chief. We’re outta here.”

Stevens waved good-bye to Featherstone, then Gibson called for a beam-out. A moment later, the foursome from the Hood disappeared in a wash of twinkling silver-blue light.

Corsi started toward Stevens, trying to keep calm and trying not to be the kasnik Gold had called her in jest once. “Friend of yours, Fabe?”

“Yeah, I met her when she was temporarily posted to Deep Space 9 for a few weeks,” Stevens said.

Corsi could almost see the little daggers shooting out of her eyes. “A few weeks, huh?”

Stevens nodded. “Yeah, she made quite the impression. On Captain Sisko, I mean. And Chief O’Brien. In a completely professional, engineering capacity, of course.” He paused a moment, no doubt noticing that she was disemboweling him with her eyes. “Wait, you’re…Dom, you’re not—”

“No.”

And that was the end of that.

Gomez tipped her head back and looked way up along the side of the cube that faced them, a balmy breeze blowing through her wavy black hair. It was odd to see a symbol of so much fear and destruction in such a dormant unkempt state. It looked for all the world like an abandoned building that had been lost to the elements and the surrounding flora, not a ship belonging to one of the most feared species the galaxy had ever known.

Though scans confirmed the vessel was indeed one of the infamous cube vessels, much of its external cube-like shape was actually no longer in evidence, having been pulverized during the crash. The fact that it had remained in this condition for so long was also another indication the ship was no longer active; if it had been, it would have repaired itself long before now.

Where the cube brushed up against the edge of the forest, thick vines wound their way up along the vessel’s superstructure, snaking in and around the eroded latticework. On the side facing the trees, Sonya saw a tree branch jutting out of the vessel, but she couldn’t tell if the source of the branch was outside or actually growing within. A crisp chirping sound drew her attention, and she turned to see a blue bird flying out of the upper reaches of the cube near the top. With all the nooks and crannies present in the structural design of these ships, she imagined the cube was a haven for a variety of creatures.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Stevens said, his eyes tracking the chirping bird as it disappeared into the forest. “No Borg, anyway.”

“All the same, let’s do a scan,” Gomez said from the rise where she stood. “We can’t be too careful, right?” Since they’d arrived on the surface, she’d found it pretty easy to keep her mind on the mission rather than the issue between herself and Stevens, though she had to admit that Corsi’s remark about her delicate relationship with jealousy had given her pause. Shaking the thought aside, Sonya glanced at Pattie and nodded at the apparent Klingon dagger strapped to the Nasat’s torso. “Are you going to use that thing, or is it just for show?”

Pattie’s laughter sounded like delicate wind chimes in a soft breeze. The impressive-looking knife was actually a unique scanning device designed to her specifications and inspired by a similar device owned by the Klingon engineer Kairn, whom they’d all met on a joint mission eight months back. While Kairn’s Master’s dagger had really been a measuring tool, Pattie had modified her design to include more conventional scans. Gomez knew the Nasat was lucky to still have it at all after almost losing it when she crashlanded on Zhatyra II. Maybe she was feeling a little protective of it.

But Pattie drew the knife and held it vertically toward the cube, blade pointing upward. After a moment, she brought it down to eye level and examined the results that glowed blue along the flat side of the blade facing her. “Results are negative for lifesigns, Commander,” she said.

Good, now let’s keep it that way. Gomez marched down the slope to join her crewmates, “Okay, let’s look for an opening we can use to get inside.”

“I wouldn’t think the Borg would have any use for doors,” Hawkins said as he moved off along the edge of the cube, his phaser rifle held lightly in his hands. “They pretty much beam everywhere they go.”

“A valid point, Vance,” Pattie said, still wielding her dagger. “However, there would have to be some manner of hatches available for their sphere vessels to enter and exit.”

“I don’t think we need anything quite that big, Pattie,” Gomez said with a smile. Those round hatches were probably big enough for a Galaxy-class starship to fly through with ease.

“Anything that big would be partially buried anyway,” Corsi noted, then pounded the ship with the side of a closed fist. “Why don’t we just blast a hole in the hull and walk through it?”

Stevens chuckled. “Leave it to you to come up with that idea.”

Corsi turned, her brows knitted into a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on, Dom,” Stevens said, grinning. “You know you like to shoot stuff.”

Gomez paused and called after Hawkins, who was several meters ahead of them. “You see any openings up there, Chief?”

Hawkins looked back and shook his bald head. “No, not really.”

“What does that mean?” Gomez asked.

“Well, I did see a few openings, but unless we’re squirrels, they won’t be much use to us.”

Gomez smiled. Between the two of them, Stevens and Hawkins could probably make a moderately amusing comedy duo if their careers in Starfleet ever went down the drain.

“Funny,” Corsi said, though she was in full sarcasm mode.

“Aw, come on, Boss,” Hawkins said, his grin matching Stevens’s a short time ago. “Say it like you mean it.”

Corsi just grunted.

“Okay, Domenica, I guess you get to blow a hole in the thing,” Gomez said, then waved a hand at the side of the ship. “Pick a spot and fire away.”

Corsi adjusted the setting on her rifle as she moved back a few steps, then aimed at the side of the ship. “Fire in the hole,” she said as phased energy spewed forth from her weapon and struck the side of the cube. At the point of impact, the metallic surface of the ship glowed yellow, then red, then disappeared altogether as the hull was vaporized. She maintained the burst for ten seconds, then ceased fire. A small niche had been created, but they weren’t inside the ship yet.

“Hold back,” Corsi told them, then fired again. She maintained the energy output for almost thirty seconds this time, walking inward as the metallic structure was eaten away around her.

Gomez watched her move deeper into the ship, the inside of the newly formed passage shimmering with the orange light of the phaser fire. Then the whine of the weapon ceased, and Corsi emerged a moment later, her face glistening with sweat.

“We’re in,” she said. “Hawkins, with me. Kim, you bring up the rear.”

Hawkins and Kim both nodded, and they proceeded into the cube.

Chapter

4

T he first thing Gomez noticed when they entered the ship was the smell. It was not at all what she expected. Instead of the metallic scent she associated with the cube’s general appearance and the mechanical nature of the Borg themselves, the interior of the vessel had an earthy organic smell that was a testament to the extent the surrounding environment had absorbed the ship.

The light from the three rifle lamps flashed about in the darkness, illuminating the gray equipment racks and slotted Borg alcoves that lined the walls in seeming perpetuity. Gomez saw flashes of vegetation everywhere, growing up from beneath the floor grates, or hanging in thick moist clumps where trees and other fauna had pushed their way in from the adjacent forest.

“I’m still detecting no internal lifesigns beyond ourselves and the critters that call this place home,” Pattie said. Her scanning blade glinted in the light from the rifles as they moved slowly along one of the thousands of labyrinthian walkways that filled the ship. The familiar sounds emanating from Stevens’s tricorder had a comforting lilt that Gomez welcomed in the eerie light.

A sudden flapping noise from just above broke the relative silence, and Sonya spun around with a startled gasp. Corsi and Hawkins tracked the dark avian with their lamps before it disappeared behind a wall of an upper level.

“Borg birds, maybe?” Stevens ventured. He threw up a hand a moment later as Corsi swung the beam of her rifle’s lamp into the tactical specialist’s face. “Hey!”

“Fabian,” Gomez said, and when he turned, the look they exchanged with each other told her he hadn’t forgotten what had happened last night either. To his credit though, he was doing a fine job of keeping it buried, maintaining his usual joviality with apparent ease. “Why don’t you start scanning for the power source? That’s what we’re here for.”

“Aye, Commander,” Stevens said with a nod, then turned away to begin that task.

After a few moments, an excited sound came from Pattie’s direction. “Is anybody else finding this as fascinating as I am?”

Fascinating? That wasn’t the word Gomez would have chosen. “How so, Pattie?” she asked, her eye catching one of the dormant power waveguide conduits that peppered the ceiling at regular intervals.

The Nasat glanced at her as though surprised by the question. “We’re exploring a Borg cube,” she said, as though that fact hadn’t yet sunk in for the rest of them. “How many people get a chance to do that, to learn something about one of their greatest enemies?”

“I can see the appeal that holds, Pattie,” Gomez said. “And if we happen to come across some useful intel on the Borg, we’ll certainly make note of it. But that’s not our primary mission here.” Still, the rarity of the opportunity was not lost on Gomez. There had been relatively few occasions where Starfleet personnel had been aboard a Borg vessel and had the freedom to explore at their leisure. “But keep your eyes open anyway. You never know what we may come across.”

“Will do,” Pattie said and chittered happily.

“How about this for a start?” Hawkins called from a few meters ahead.

His rifle lamp illuminated the body of a Borg drone. Little organic was left of the corpse, only the components of its mechanical implants and a collection of cobweb-covered bones that offered no indication as to what species it had been prior to being assimilated. Gomez guessed that the drone’s flesh had either rotted away over time or served as a meal for wild animals. She shuddered at the thought.

“Bingo,” Stevens said a moment later. “Commander, I’ve located our power source. It’s three levels down and about half a kilometer thataway.” He gestured with the tricorder, and Corsi pointed her rifle in that direction, an automatic gesture that held no purpose but indicated that the security chief was keeping alert.

“All right,” Gomez said, “let’s go.”

As the away team moved deeper into the ship, Corsi saw more and more Borg corpses, and it suited her just fine that they were all long-dead. The bodies, like the one they’d seen earlier, were no more than implant-festooned skeletons. Some were slumped in the alcoves where they’d died, probably oblivious to their own deaths, while others lay on the deck, their bones scattered like fallen branches in a forest. It was disheartening to think that death was what finally freed these people of Borg influence, though she couldn’t imagine that the alternative was at all preferable.

Cobwebs were everywhere, and at one point Hawkins had to use the tip of his rifle to break through a particularly dense one that spanned the width of the passageway. As the web broke apart with a soft tearing sound, Corsi couldn’t help but think of Araneus, the Koas who’d come aboard the da Vinci recently with his entire homeworld compressed into a handy pyramid-shaped device. Araneus resembled a gargantuan arachnid, and having met him, Corsi had no qualms about the prospect of meeting whatever had spun this particular web.

Gomez, on the other hand, seemed to be a little out of sorts since the mission began, and a little jumpy, though she was doing her best to hide it. As far as Corsi knew, Gomez didn’t have any bug phobias—no one did who worked with Pattie for more than five minutes—so it had to be the result of just being inside the Borg cube. As she herself had noted earlier, it was a bit creepy.

A tremendous clatter exploded behind the group, and Kim, bringing up the rear, spun and dropped to his knee, aiming his rifle at the disturbance; Corsi whirled around and did the same, albeit still on her feet, as did Hawkins. As Corsi’s heartbeat thundered within her chest, her rifle lamp illuminated the skeletal remains of another Borg drone, wisps of dust and silky cobwebs drifting around it. She whispered an appropriate curse, then moved her light upward to an empty alcove. The body must have fallen from its berth, no longer able to support itself or its Borg paraphernalia.

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m sure wide awake now,” Stevens said. He glanced at Pattie, who’d gone quiet and still at the disturbance. “You okay, Pattie? You look a little Blue.”

After a few moments, the pillbug-shaped Nasat blinked rapidly then looked at Fabian. “That is quite possibly the worst pun I have ever heard.”

Stevens bowed at the waist. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Let’s move on, people,” Gomez said, evidently in no mood for jovial banter.

Corsi didn’t blame her.

When Gomez and the others finally reached the power source, Pattie’s scan revealed that they were actually situated about fifteen feet below ground level due to the tilt of the ship where it lay embedded in the earth. Pattie scanned the housing unit where the power flow regulators were located and chittered softly as her readings matched what Captain Gold’s report had indicated. The power that would normally have been distributed throughout the vessel by this and other power nodes was being fed underground, leaving only the trace readings that had been detected from orbit. Though the ship had thousands of these nodes, this appeared to be the only one that was still active.

“Any idea who might have done this?” Gomez asked. “Maybe Borg survivors?”

Pattie offered her rendition of a shrug, then sheathed her dagger and drew her own tricorder for a more detailed scan. “Impossible to tell, Commander. But it wasn’t exactly a professional job. The intended result was achieved, however.”

“I still don’t understand how anyone could have done this,” Corsi said. “This planet is supposed to be uninhabited.”

Pattie’s antennae wiggled. “Another fascinating mystery.”

On the opposite side of the power regulator, Stevens finished a scan, and his head reappeared from behind the piece of dusty machinery. “There’s barely a power reading at all at this end. You’d practically have to be in orbit of the planet to detect it at all.”

“Makes you wonder what a Boslic freighter was doing here in the first place,” Hawkins said, his eyes scanning the gloomy surroundings.

“Maybe they were smugglers looking for a remote location to store their contraband,” Stevens said, then smiled. “Not that that has anything to do with our mission, mind you.”

“I have to admit, this situation has made me curious,” Gomez said. As much as she’d rather be elsewhere, Pattie was right, this was a fascinating mystery. “Pattie, can you use the tricorder to follow the conduits so we can see where they lead?”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult,” the Nasat replied, and turned her tricorder to its new task. Once she locked on to the conduits leaving the power regulator, it was easy enough to follow them as they zigged and zagged their way along the new course that had been directed for them.

Eventually, the conduits led them to a spot where the earth had hemorrhaged through the ship and a near-vertical shaft led down into darkness. A small section of grating lay near the opening, and Gomez could almost believe it had served as a barrier to hide the shaft’s existence. Silence descended around them as they peered into the hole, then Stevens broke the silence with one of his timely remarks.

“Okay, expendable security types, this way please,” he said and pointed into the darkness. Gomez glanced his way, just in time to see Corsi’s elbow leaving the general vicinity of his ribs. She couldn’t understand how Stevens could continue to be so…so damned normal. Or maybe his attitude wasn’t the problem. Maybe it was her. Was she making too much of her error in judgment last night? Maybe you keep stressing out about this because you keep thinking about it. Let it go!

“Putting aside your questionable comedic skills for the moment,” Hawkins said to Stevens, “it is part of our job to go first into dark places that frighten certain others.”

“I never said I was frightened,” Stevens said.

Corsi patted his arm as she walked past him. “You didn’t have to, Fabe.”

Stevens scowled. “Now who’s being funny?”

“Hold on, Domenica,” Gomez said before the security chief could step into the hole. She tapped her combadge, then instinctively titled her head skyward. “Gomez to da Vinci.”

“Go ahead,” came Gold’s reply.

“Sir, we’ve tracked the diverted power conduits to a shaft that leads down into the earth,” she said. “In case we lose communications, I just wanted to let you know we were going exploring.”

“Understood. Have you detected any lifesigns yet?”

“Stand by, sir.” Sonya nodded at Pattie, who quickly aimed her scan into the pit. A moment later the Nasat looked back, her antennae straightened in surprise. That was all the answer Sonya needed. “Yes, Captain. We are now picking up faint lifesigns.”

“Very well, Gomez. Proceed with caution, and keep me apprised.”

“Aye, sir. Gomez out.” Sonya stepped next to Corsi and gave her a nod. “All right, lead the way.”

Corsi turned and stepped into the hole.

Chapter

5

W ith the bright lamp on her phaser rifle guiding the way, Domenica Corsi stepped cautiously through the tunnel beneath the Borg cube and led her shipmates into the unknown. This was one of those rare occasions where she felt like both an explorer and a security officer—not only protecting the others under her care, but stepping headlong into a situation with variables she couldn’t account for or predict. She didn’t know what would be waiting for them at the end of the tunnel or what might pop out at them along the way. What she did know was that she’d be ready for anything.

The air in the tunnel was cool and moist, a welcome change from the stuffiness above, and the scent of dirt that had been evident within the cube was stronger here, mainly because the tunnel she and the others had entered was carved right out of the earth. Corsi kept her eyes constantly on the move, scanning the ceiling and floor for any surprises while maintaining an attentive sight on the path ahead.

At one point the slope of the path dipped sharply, and the top of the passage dropped in height, forcing Corsi to crouch low, the top of her blond head brushing the ceiling. She glanced back to make sure the others were progressing without difficulty, then continued forward, her feet braced sturdily to prevent slippage. The passage shrunk to the point that they all had to continue forward on their hands and knees—except Corsi. In order to keep her phaser rifle at the ready, she decided to scootch forward on her rear-end, pulling herself forward with her boot heels and maintaining balance with one arm braced behind her. It was a bit awkward, but it was the most effective position if something should decide to jump out ahead of her.

After a time, Corsi noticed the tunnel was growing steadily brighter, and as an opening appeared about fifteen meters ahead of her, it seemed they were nearing the end of their journey. “I see a light at the end of the tunnel.”

“Hallelujah,” Stevens remarked from his position behind her.

Corsi slipped out from the end of the tunnel and did her best to brush the dirt off her uniform as she surveyed her new surroundings. And to her great disappointment, it appeared they’d crawled all this way only to find themselves facing a dead end. They were on a balcony of sorts that overlooked a vast open space about twenty meters across. Corsi moved close to the edge to see if there was a way down and discovered there was no down—at least not one she could see. Below was a drop into what looked like an endless chasm, the alleged bottom concealed by an inky blackness. A jagged rock ceiling jutted down from about fifty meters above. And to the right…Corsi could not believe her eyes.

Humanoids bustled about on dozens of narrow stone pathways that meandered up and down, and crisscrossed one another at crazy angles. The people seemed to defy gravity in some places, walking upright on the tops, bottoms, and even the sides of the paths without any indication that they were in any danger of falling off. Each path led to openings in the wall that Corsi guessed must lead to a tunnel system.

And everywhere there was light, casting a warm ethereal glow over this subterranean pathway hub. Spaced closely along the sides of each pathway and flush with the smooth rock-like material were light fixtures that provided ample light for the people walking past them. Illumination was also situated at the top of each of the wall openings, from which Corsi could now see a faint glow. Additional lamps hung suspended from the ceiling on long rods.

Corsi glanced back at Gomez, who was speaking quietly with Stevens as he helped her out of the tunnel. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, and for some reason that annoyed her. “Commander,” she said, drawing both their attentions, “you’ve got to take a look at this.”

Gomez, followed closely by Stevens, joined her at the edge of the balcony and looked out into the void. An expression of complete awe crossed her now slackened face, and Corsi guessed it matched her own expression just a couple of minutes earlier.

“Look at all the people,” she said in a hushed voice. “Where did they come from?”

“I don’t know,” Corsi said. “They sure don’t look like Borg survivors, though.”

“No, they don’t,” Gomez said. “And look at the light. Incredible.”

“I guess this explains where all the power from the cube is going,” Fabian said.

Corsi gave him a wry look as Pattie, Kim, and Hawkins joined them. “You think?”

“Perhaps they’ve always been here,” Pattie said after taking in the spectacle. “In any case, clearly we can’t just shut off the power.”

Corsi frowned and looked at the Nasat. “Why not?”

“Because obviously these people have been siphoning the power from the cube to run their society for who knows how long,” Gomez answered. “Turning off the power would plunge them into darkness and throw their civilization into chaos.”

“So this has become a Prime Directive issue now?” Corsi asked. This mission had seemed so simple at the outset: enter the ship, shut off the power, go back home. This little “mystery” about the diverted power, which had intrigued her initially, had now become a much larger matter to contend with.

“You don’t think it should be?” Gomez asked.

“These people,” Corsi said with a wave of her hand, “have been here far longer than the cube.”

“You don’t know that,” Pattie said, her antennae waving sharply.

“Of course I do,” Corsi said. “Do you think they just sprang into existence the same time the cube crashed? Whatever resources they claimed from the ship were not part of their original society. They could have lived in these tunnels in complete darkness for millennia, for all we know.”

“Well, we don’t know one way or the other, do we?” Gomez said.

Corsi chortled and shook her head. “Okay, so your theory is that thousands of years ago these people did have light down here somehow—then lost it—and the crash of the cube conveniently provided them with the means to restore their society to its natural…illumination?”

“You’re putting words in my mouth, Domenica,” Gomez said, fixing her with a scowl. “And I can’t believe you would rather pull the plug on these people and watch their society crumble.”

Corsi held her gaze for a moment, then looked away. Why am I getting so worked up about this? “No, of course I wouldn’t. I’m just saying that the Prime Directive is not something that should be considered in this situation, whether it looks like a textbook case or not. I’m sorry I even brought it up.”

“You do bring up an interesting point, however,” Pattie said, gazing out at the oblivious pathwalkers. When she turned back, her antennae flicked like the batons of dueling orchestra conductors. “If this does appear to be a textbook Prime Directive situation, why shouldn’t it be considered?”

“Because determining that one way or the other is not on our agenda right now,” Gomez said. “If this debate does need to be hashed out, then Captain Gold will want to be involved. Right now, we’ve made our observations, we have our theories, and now we’re going to report in.”

Gomez turned away and tapped her combadge. “Gomez to da—” She broke off and let out a startled yelp, falling back a step in response to whatever had startled her.

And as Corsi spun around, she immediately saw what that something was. Crouched in the opening of the tunnel was one of the native humanoids, a female. Her pallid face appeared young, though her long dreadlocked hair was a dusty gray and made her seem older. Her eyes were big, with large pupils that covered half her dark green irises. A thin ridge of bone jutted out across her forehead, just over the eyes, and then disappeared within the layers of her hair. It was like a natural sun visor, though of course there was no sun to speak of here.

As Corsi, Hawkins, and Kim swung their weapons around, the mounted light beams flashed the newcomer with white light. But the blast of illumination didn’t have the expected result. Instead of cringing from the light as most people would, the native woman gasped in exultation and took a sudden step forward. The team from the da Vinci reacted in turn by recoiling backward a step. Pattie, however, skittered backward into Stevens, knocking the tactical specialist off balance. Before Corsi realized what was happening, Stevens fell backward toward the void.

“Fabian!” Corsi and Gomez called at the same time.

Corsi twisted around and reached for him, but it was too late. Stevens was out of reach, and she could do nothing but watch as he toppled off the edge of the balcony with nothing but a bottomless chasm to break his fall.

Chapter

6

E xcept he didn’t fall.

A laugh of relief almost exploded from the pit of Corsi’s stomach when Fabian bounced back and hung suspended in the void as though caught on a cushion of air. Stevens’s cry of alarm was cut short as he realized he wasn’t plunging to his death after all. He threw his arms out instinctively to grab onto something, even though it clearly wasn’t necessary. Emotions of shock, fear, and wonder fought for control over his face, and when he finally looked back at his friends on the balcony, a relieved grin spread across his face.

“How about that,” he said, then made the unfortunate mistake of looking down. The grin changed into a sickly frown, and a groan burbled through his pale lips.

“Hawkins,” Corsi said as she slung her rifle over her shoulder. Her deputy chief knew immediately what she had in mind and clasped her hand as she held it out to him. At the edge of the balcony, Corsi braced her right foot against his left, then leaned out into the chasm.

Corsi stretched her arm out as far as she could and felt her shoulder, elbow, and back straining with the effort. But she was still about a meter short of her target. “Come on, Fabe, help me out here.”

Stevens reached out as well to close the gap, but they were still too far apart. “I can’t get any closer.”

“Pretend you’re in a tank of water,” Gomez said. “Use your arms to push yourself closer.”

Fabian’s body contorted a bit as he struggled into a more upright position, then he did as Gomez suggested; as though floating in a pool, he stabbed his arms forward, his hands turned on their sides like knives, then swept them away from each other. Incredibly, it worked and he floated toward Corsi, the momentum carrying him within reach. She finally managed to grasp his sleeve and pull him forward. At the other end of their chain, Hawkins leaned away and did his part to help reel them both back.

Once Stevens was back within the shelter of the balcony, the effects of the air bubble ceased, and gravity claimed him again. He stumbled forward into Corsi and nearly sent them both tumbling to the floor. Fortunately Hawkins was there and kept them upright.

“Are you all right?” Gomez asked.

Stevens still seemed to be in a bit of a daze. “Yeah, yeah. I mean…wow, that was weird. I thought for sure I was a goner.”

Pattie clamored forward, her antennae swishing about like windswept reeds. “I’m so sorry for knocking you off the edge, Fabian. I don’t know what I would have done if that gravity bubble hadn’t caught you.”

“Well, I’d hope you’d say something nice at my funeral,” Stevens said with a grin. Pattie smiled with relief.

“Gravity bubble,” Gomez said as she took a step toward the edge. “Pattie, I think you’re right. This must be some sort of gravity well. The whole area out there could be zero-g, or there might just be random bubbles floating around like balloons. It would certainly explain how those people can walk upside down and at forty-five-degree angles in relatively the same location.”

Whatever, Corsi thought and turned her attention back to the native woman who had started the whole chain of events. “Speaking about those people…”

Gomez turned toward the woman and smiled, raising her hands in a non-threatening manner. “I’m Commander Sonya Gomez, of the Federation Starship da Vinci.” Corsi had a feeling that that wouldn’t mean anything to the woman, but she kept quiet. “We mean you no harm. We’re explorers, and we came down from above because we were curious about—”

The native made a sharp guttural noise, like the reverse honking of a goose, that startled the group and cut off Sonya’s introduction. Corsi tensed, prepared for any sudden attack, but none came. In fact, to the surprise of them all, the woman actually spoke.

“You come,” she said, then hopped from the end of the tunnel to the floor. The away team stepped aside as she ran across the balcony and, to Corsi’s astonishment, leaped off the edge like an Olympic diver. She did a graceful midair somersault, then, with subtle arm and leg movements, turned around so she was facing them again. “You come!”

Her short vocal bursts had caught the attention of the pathwalkers in the hub, many of whom stopped and turned to see what the commotion was about. Corsi could see them talking to one another as they first looked at the native woman hovering in the air, then directly at the balcony where the away team stood.

“Well, what do you think?” Gomez asked her, then smiled. “Or do I even need to ask?”

“Obviously I’m reluctant to follow her into an area where we’ll be outnumbered,” Corsi said. “We don’t know where she plans to lead us or what her intentions are when we get there.”

“They don’t seem to show any outward signs of hostility,” Pattie noted.

Corsi looked down at the Nasat. “I’m sure the Bajorans said the same thing when the Cardassians arrived.” She looked out into the hub, where all of the natives were now watching and waiting. The native woman continued to gesture with an eager smile on her face, insisting that they come with her. For all Corsi knew, she could be inviting them all into her stew pot. She looked back at Gomez. “It’s ultimately your decision, Commander.”

Gomez nodded. “We’re going. But keep alert, just the same.” At that, Gomez took a breath and leaped off the balcony. Like Fabian before, she didn’t fall and instead seemed caught up in a nul-gravity pocket. Unfortunately, she must have pushed off a bit too strongly, because she flipped over a few times before she managed to right herself and “swim” toward their native guide, who had now drifted closer to the nearest pathway.

Hawkins stepped next to Corsi, a silly grin on his face. “I have to say, Commander, that it actually looks like fun.”

“Knock yourself out,” Corsi said, then smirked as she shoved him softly off the edge. He croaked in surprise and let go of his phaser rifle, but it too just floated nearby, and he was able to retrieve it with little effort.

“You enjoyed that,” Hawkins called back to her.

Corsi couldn’t keep the smile from her face. “Can you tell?” Hawkins scowled at her, then she turned to Fabian. “Well, can you do it on your own this time, or should we get Pattie to knock you off again?”

Stevens did it on his own, then Pattie followed after giving herself a running start from the rear of the balcony, and then Kim.

“Your turn, Dom,” Stevens said.

So it is. Corsi slung her rifle again and peered over the edge. It was a long way down, and if this floating business didn’t work for her for some reason…No, that was ridiculous. She was just stalling, giving in to the hesitation niggling in the back of her brain. The others were floating out there in front of her eyes, and there was no reason to believe it would be any different with her.

She took a breath, then jumped off the balcony, turning over so that she landed on her back. Of course, she didn’t land anywhere, and instead floated in the gravity well just like the others, most of whom were some distance ahead. Pattie seemed to have the most difficulty making her way through the air, all eight of her appendages working away frantically as her body tipped this way and that.

Corsi had to admit the feeling of weightlessness was a pleasant one. As a Starfleet officer, she’d had her zero-g training, of course, and over the years opportunities had arisen that required her to embark into the void of space to perform her duties, but this subterranean location was the last place she expected to be floating around without gravity.

“Swimming” through the air was a little harder than it looked, though. Corsi kept wanting to push off with her feet, but there was nothing to push off from. She watched Fabian a ways ahead of her, then, matching his approach, managed to get some pretty good momentum going.

This is fun, she mused and decided to keep that thought to herself.

By the time she reached the pathway, the others were already waiting. Corsi wasn’t sure how they managed to remain grounded to the pathway itself and suspected there might be some additional power being utilized beneath it to generate an anti-grav effect.

The natives on this path—and every other path for that matter—stared openly at the away team, and Corsi kept a close eye on them as well. They appeared pretty docile, but one never knew in these situations.

Corsi caught movement down and to the right and saw a male native looking up at her from beneath the pathway. She cocked her head as she processed the odd sight, then shook it off. Weird.

“You come,” the native woman said once again, then headed for the opening in the cavern wall. Corsi fell into step with Gomez as the da Vinci’s first officer followed their guide, while the others trailed behind with Hawkins and Kim bringing up the rear.

As they walked, Gomez tapped her combadge to try contacting the ship again. “Gomez to da Vinci.” There was no response.

Pattie was already pointing her tricorder at the rock walls and ceiling. “I’m afraid we won’t be able to contact the ship from down here, Commander. I’m detecting trace amounts of something similar to kelbonite in the rock. It’s refracting communications.”

“Perfect,” Corsi muttered, but Gomez just nodded as though she’d expected this.

“I already mentioned this possibility to Captain Gold,” she said. “For the moment, let’s just stick with our host. If necessary, we can always send someone back.”

Assuming they let us, Corsi thought. But I swear, if we’re being led to a kitchen, I’m shooting first and asking questions later.

Their guide brought them through a dimly lit corridor that smelled of dirt and stone. Light fixtures were embedded in the solid rock of the ceiling and spaced out every three meters. They didn’t give off a whole lot of light, but it was enough for Corsi and the others to see where they were going.

The native woman led them into a large room with pew-like seats that were arranged in a semi-circular fashion and appeared carved out of the floor itself. The seats faced a tall mechanical device that had power conduits leading out to connection points in the ceiling. Corsi couldn’t help but see the disturbing similarity to the Borg alcoves in the cube above. As she drew closer, Corsi was shocked to see one of the natives enmeshed within the device, conduits twisting around her body like coiled serpents. She was an older woman, perhaps in her sixties, with a gaunt frame, bright piercing blue eyes and long thin gray hair that hung from her scalp like spiders’ silk. Dark tendrils were visible beneath her pale skin, giving her the appearance of someone who’d been a victim of assimilation. And although her eyes were open, she seemed not to be aware of the away team’s approach.

Corsi glanced at Sonya, who had an equally astonished look on her face. Corsi found herself in the rare position of not being certain how to proceed. Her instincts would have her run to the old woman’s aid, but clearly she didn’t appear to be in any distress, and their guide wasn’t the least bit alarmed.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Fabian said as he stepped forward and gawked at the old woman.

Corsi decided that that pretty much summed up everyone else’s reaction as well.

Chapter

7

“S age!”

Sonya Gomez started as the guide’s voice rang out in the hall like a banshee’s call. In response, the conduits entwining the old woman brightened as though the power coursing through them was illuminated with the same light that was so prevalent in this underground world. And her blue eyes, still before now, turned to regard the group of people before her.

“Why do you come?” Sage asked in a strong commanding voice that belied her physical appearance. She directed her question at Gomez, as though sensing somehow that she was the leader, and Gomez felt somewhat unnerved by the old woman’s piercing gaze.

“We are from a Federation starship,” Gomez said, uncertain if “Sage” was the woman’s name or some sort of title. “We are explorers and came to this world to investigate the power that was draining from the ship above. We were not aware your society even existed. It was our belief that this planet was uninhabited.”

“This perception is in error,” Sage said, her diction more developed than that of their guide. Gomez wondered if this was a result of her union with the machine.

“Yes, we see that now,” Gomez said. “What you have accomplished here is very—”

“You cannot take away our power,” Sage said. “It allows for the growing of crops for food and gives us light where there is none. My people depend on it for their very survival. I will not allow you to take our power!”

Gomez was glad they’d already decided not to cut the power outright, because it was an argument she wouldn’t want to engage in with this woman. “There’s no need to worry. We have no intention of shutting down your power. But there are other issues we must address. Above, within the vessel, there are power readings that may still be strong enough to attract evil entities that could consume your society.” Theoretically it was true, though she doubted the Borg would bother with these people if they came, because the only technology they had was the Borg’s own.

“It matters not,” Sage said. “Power is life. The Light is all.”

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” said Gomez. “But as I said, it is not our intention to—”

“Power is life. The Light is all,” Sage said again, a little more forcefully this time. Clearly she had no interest in furthering the conversation.

Gomez nodded respectfully at Sage, then drew her team together to confer. “What do you think?”

“I think we’re at an impasse here,” Corsi said. “We’ve already decided not to shut them down, but she has no interest in listening to anything else we have to say, even the possibility of danger to her people. I don’t think there’s anything else we can do here.”

Looking at P8 Blue, Gomez asked, “Pattie?”

“I believe we should take advantage of the opportunity to learn more about these people. Perhaps we could ask our guide to give us a tour of the society they’ve built here. This Sage mentioned food crops; where are they, and how big are they? What kind of food is grown, and how is it grown? I’d be interested in seeing how extensive this underground world is.”

“It’s a shame Carol isn’t here,” Hawkins said. “I’m sure she’d love to explore this place.”

Sonya didn’t doubt that, and she knew Hawkins hadn’t made the comment just because he and Abramowitz were romantically involved. This was exactly the sort of situation that the cultural specialist would jump at the chance to participate in. She loved finding out what made different cultures tick, and Gomez hoped that before they left this world, she’d be able to come down and do just that.

“What about you, Fabian?” she asked. “Any thoughts?”

Stevens glanced between Corsi and Hawkins to regard the old woman in the alcove. “I think she’s off her rocker.”

Again with the jokes. Sonya’s mouth twitched at that, but she held back the smile. “M-hm, thank you for that insightful observation.”

“No, I’m serious,” Stevens said. “Hasn’t anyone noticed that thing she’s plugged into looks a lot like a Borg alcove? And look at her skin—she’s practically assimilated. Who knows how much her mind has been affected by being in there for so long. It could be controlling her for all we know.”

“So you think we should just ignore her and do whatever we want?” Corsi asked.

“No, of course not,” Stevens said. “But there has to be more to her than being the leader of these people. I mean, she’s gotta be hooked into that thing for a reason. Is she psychic? Is she tuned into the entire population, or, dare I say, her ‘collective’?”

Gomez gave Stevens a wry look, then glanced at Corsi’s number two. “Hawkins?”

The deputy chief shrugged. “I don’t think we’re in any danger here, Commander. The people seem to be docile and haven’t shown any indication that they mean us any harm. In fact, they seem to be going out of their way to make us feel welcome. The old woman is a little cranky, but I would be too in her place.”

Gomez nodded. That was more or less her assessment as well. Turning to the last member of the away team, she asked, “Kim?”

The young security guard simply stood at attention. “Awaiting your orders, Commander.”

Spoken like a true soldier, Gomez thought wryly. Kim had joined the da Vinci six months ago, and had proven to be an able security guard. He obviously had less interest in making decisions than in following the orders of those who did. Gomez wondered if he was truly intrigued and hiding it behind duty or if he really was just doing his job.

That’s a question for later. And so is this society, if it comes to that. They really needed to get back to their mission.

“All right, we’ll head back,” she said, then moved to stand before Sage again. “Your wisdom humbles us.” She bowed respectfully, then rejoined her friends. “Let’s go.”

“Hold!” Sage’s order stopped Gomez before she could take another step. The old woman was looking intently at the native guide, who had a distant look on her face that made it seem as though she was receiving orders that Gomez couldn’t hear.

I guess that answers Fabian’s psychic question.

Once Sage turned away and resumed her blank open-eyed “offline” position in the alcove, the native guide smiled at Gomez and gestured to herself by tapping her chest and pointing toward the entrance. “I show you home.” She nodded, her smile intensifying. “I show you city.”

“I do believe she wants to take us on a tour,” Stevens said.

Gomez thought this was pretty plain herself, but they didn’t really have the time. They had a mission to complete here, and they couldn’t afford to delay it by touring an underground city. Well, not all of them anyway.

“Unfortunately, I can’t spare everyone to indulge,” she said. “Fabian, I want you and Pattie to return to the cube and get working on a way to eliminate our problem without creating another one down here.” She noticed P8 Blue’s antennae lower a bit at the news that she wouldn’t be on the tour, but hopefully once their mission was over they would all be able to set aside some time to explore. “Also please advise the captain on our status. I’m sure he’s itching for an update by now.”

“You got it,” Stevens said with a nod.

Gomez glanced at Corsi’s deputy and Kim. “Since it probably isn’t necessary for two members of security to guard little ol’ me, why don’t you both head up with the others?”

“Understood, Commander,” Hawkins said. “We’ll probably need to keep them out of trouble anyway.”

“No doubt,” Gomez said with a smile. “Which leaves Domenica and me to accompany our guide on the tour. We’ll join the rest of you afterward and hopefully by then we’ll have something useful to tell the captain. So, if there’s nothing else, let’s get started.”

As Stevens, Pattie, Kim, and Hawkins started to moved toward the exit, the native guide frowned as though she were disappointed they wouldn’t be coming on the tour as well. “Leaving?” she asked.

“Yes, they have important work to do.” Gomez nodded, smiled, and gave the general impression that this was a good thing. “But we will come.” She included Corsi in a gesture, and the guide brightened.

They left the chamber and followed the guide to the right, down the main corridor and deeper into the underground city. They passed more of the natives along the way, who stopped to gape at the humans with polite awe. These people had some of the most adorable children Gomez had ever seen, with large inquisitive eyes and pudgy cheeks that met wide, open smiles. She wondered what these people called themselves—if they called themselves anything at all. She decided it was time to get to know their guide on a more personal level. The woman was taking the time to give them a tour of her home, and Sonya felt she at least deserved to be addressed by name, assuming she had one.

“Sonya,” she said and gestured to herself. “My name is Sonya.”

“Sahn’ya,” the guide said.

Gomez pointed to Corsi next. “Domenica.”

“Do’meenik’a.”

“Maybe she’d be able to handle ‘Corsi’ better,” the security chief muttered.

“Close enough,” Gomez said, then pointed at the guide. “What’s your name?”

For a moment it looked as though the guide wasn’t sure what Gomez was getting at, so Gomez had to refresh her memory by pointing out who was who, then trailed off as she pointed at the native. It finally clicked, and the woman smiled. “Tey’sa,” she said and tapped her chest.

“Tey’sa,” Gomez repeated, then grinned at Corsi. “How about that?”

“Fascinating,” Corsi said with a roll of her eyes.

“Sahn’ya, Do’meenik’a, Tey’sa,” the guide said.

Gomez grinned as a sudden thrill swept through her. This was by no means the first time she’d been in a first-contact situation, but it was always exciting to break down barriers when communicating with a new species.

As they continued on their tour, Tey’sa showed them a series of open rooms that were devoted to an assortment of activities that Sonya never would have expected to find here. Groups of children were assembled in a few of the rooms they passed, with adults leading discussions that must have been predominantly telepathic due to the lack of oral speech. Tey’sa assured Gomez that there were many other classrooms along a branching corridor, where history, numbers, life skills, and the story of the Light were imparted among the city’s hundreds of children.

The story of the Light, Gomez mused. It was a story she wouldn’t mind hearing herself.

One large room they visited was devoted to wood-working, where support braces and furniture were made by skilled artisans, young and old, using hand tools that were every bit as effective as any laser-lathe Sonya had ever seen in action. As Tey’sa explained it, the elders of these multi-generational teams passed their knowledge down to their progeny so the skills would never be forgotten. The artistry in some of the works were stunning, and Sonya saw evidence of it in the fitted archways and sculpted pillars that greeted them as they entered each new section of the subtropolis.

All of the rooms they came to were not of uniform size. Obviously they had been carved out of the solid rock long ago and seemed catered to whatever went on within them. In another of the rooms they found three male youths indulging in a fast game or training session that involved short vocal bursts as they attempted to strike each other with wooden staffs about a meter long. The blows they received appeared painful enough to make Gomez cringe each time, but the combatants didn’t appear to be aware of any pain.

“They train for games,” Tey’sa said.

“You have organizational sports?” Gomez asked.

The guide smiled and nodded. “Games.”

As they continued the tour, Gomez couldn’t help but notice that the people here regarded light with a near-reverence, as though it meant far more to them than 76 simply a means that allowed them to see. She observed that pedestrians in the tunnels glanced up at each overhead light fixture they passed, as though giving quick silent prayers of thanks. And in every room they visited, there was at least one spherical lighted globe located in a position of optimum visibility—almost like an all-seeing eye watching over its flock.

Clearly light was an important part of these people’s lives, beyond the obvious reasons, and Gomez was curious as to its origins. How had it first occurred to them to utilize the power from the cube for their own purposes? Had they been sightless dark-dwellers before the light, or had they possessed some level of vision? Was Sage somehow connected directly to the light, and did she use that connection to maintain a constant awareness of her people?

Gomez suppressed a shudder, all too aware of the unpleasant parallel to the Borg Queen’s relationship with her drones. It didn’t appear that sort of relationship was present here, but the idea was still somewhat disturbing. That’s the last thing we want to have to deal with.

Still, the questions intrigued her, and she was dying to know the answers to them, but she held back until a more suitable opportunity presented itself.

Corsi gave in to Gomez’s request to sling her rifle. Though there had been no indication that the people here posed any kind of a threat, keeping her weapon in any position other than “ready” still made her feel a little vulnerable, despite the fact she could easily whip it into action with one lightning move.

Sure she might be a little overly cautious, but the way Corsi looked at it, she was being cautious for two—Gomez sure didn’t seem concerned about their safety. True, it was the job of security to protect the S.C.E. team members as they went about their mission, but the da Vinci’s first officer wasn’t usually so naïve, particularly when taking her team into the unknown. Something was bothering her. Corsi had noticed it almost the moment Gomez had walked into observation this morning; Stevens had even noticed it, if his reaction was any indication. And later in the mess hall, she’d begged off a pre-mission drink with the team so she could do some mission preparations? That was crap. And even if it was true, she could have spared five or ten minutes.

Corsi had to give her credit though. It was a testament to Gomez’s consummate professionalism that she wasn’t allowing it to interfere with her duties during the mission. But the moment they had some time alone, Corsi was going to see if she could get Gomez to open up about whatever it was that was eating at her. For now though, it was the oh-so-exciting task of playing tourist.

She had to admit, however, that the achievements of the population impressed her. It was proof of their resilience as a species that they’d been able to endure for so long, living beneath the earth. Right now, she and Gomez were on their way to visit the hydroponics chamber where food was grown and stored. It was difficult to gauge just how many people lived in this society, since she’d never seen more than four or six people at one time, aside from their initial sight of the pathway hub and the children in the classrooms. For all she knew, there could be no more than several hundred, or as many as five thousand people living here.

Their guide, Tey’sa, led them through one of the impressive archways situated throughout the system of corridors where the pathway inclined. The ceiling along the incline was lower here, and both Corsi and Gomez had to duck a little to avoid hitting their heads.

When they reached the top of the pathway, Corsi almost staggered at the sight.

Opening up before them was no mere “chamber.” It was a vast cavern, illuminated softly by elongated lights that simulated daylight and were fitted against the curved ceiling high above, like gargantuan archer’s bows. Crops grew below in a tiered arrangement, with larger plants on the floor and smaller ones suspended on one of the three upper levels, where a number of individuals monitored the vegetation to make sure it was healthy and producing the way it should.

From where they stood on an observation gantry, Corsi could see that the crops filled the entire surface of the cavern’s floor area, about a thousand meters side to side and about half that deep. The immensity of the place was stunning, and it reminded her of the first time she’d visited the Roman Coliseum on Earth, how she’d felt so minuscule in the face of its enormity.

“This is unbelievable,” Gomez said before Corsi was able to voice her own reaction. “And you’re able to feed your entire population with these crops?”

“Yes,” said Tey’sa with a prideful smile.

Corsi shook her head at the scale of the operation. “Okay, even I’m impressed.” She didn’t like to make preconceptions about a newly encountered species, but she never would have imagined these subterranean people were capable of the achievements she’d seen. “Was this cavern naturally-occurring, or did you—”

She broke off as she felt fine beads of moisture dapple the skin of her face. Corsi looked up to see a light mist falling from above, glimmering like flecks of starlight against the overhead illumination.

“Is that rain?”

“Moisture for plants,” Tey’sa said. “It cycles on and off. The light, also. It drops to simulate the darktime.”

Night, thought Corsi, tipping her head back and welcoming the refreshing kiss of wetness.

“Where does it come from?” Gomez asked. As always, she was eager to get to the bottom of the engineering question. She scanned the heights for any sign of the water’s origins, but there was nothing apparent.

“Pipe system pulls water from underground spring,” Tey’sa explained. “Takes water to homes as well.”

“Remarkable,” Gomez said, passing a hand through her dark, now-damp hair. By her expression, Corsi guessed Gomez still couldn’t see the pipe system, which made Corsi feel less like a fool for not spotting it herself.

“More,” Tey’sa said abruptly and gestured back the way they’d come. “Something better.” She said this with her arms open as though to suggest something bigger.

“Better than this?” Corsi asked. It was difficult to imagine that anything could be more impressive than the hydroponics chamber, but Tey’sa nodded, smiling. This I have to see. “Lead on.”

Chapter

8

O n the bridge of the da Vinci, David Gold sat in his command chair and had to force himself not to ask Lieutenant Shabalala if there had been any word from the away team. Gold had been on the bridge since Gomez’s last transmission, so he would have been aware of any subsequent messages. Asking about it would make little sense, yet this was the third time in the past ninety minutes that he’d felt compelled to do so. He wasn’t sure if his anxiety was the result of his natural concern for his people or the presence of the Borg cube, which, admittedly, had proven to be no threat at all. He preferred to think it was the former.

To distract himself from his worry, he looked to the rear of the bridge where Tev and Soloman continued to work side-by-side in relative peace. The pair appeared to be working well, conferring with each other as they researched relevant data on the interior of Borg cubes. Gold rose and made his way over to where they sat.

“Anything to report, gentlemen?”

Soloman opened his mouth to respond, but it was Tev who spoke. “Nothing of significance, Captain. Specialist Soloman was unable to locate any useful information in the logs made by Captain Picard’s crew on the occasions they boarded a Borg cube.” Gold noted that Tev mentioned the Bynar’s failure before his own. “And while Captain Janeway’s reports from the Delta Quadrant on Voyager’s encounters are more significant, I have yet to find anything that would be of use to us on our particular mission. But there are still many more logs for me to look through.”

Gold nodded. Kathryn Janeway’s crew in the Delta Quadrant had had an inordinate number of experiences with the Borg, and the intelligence already forwarded through to Starfleet Command via the Pathfinder project would keep the analysts there busy for years.

“Keep at it,” Gold said. “Soloman, why don’t you help Tev with Voyager’s logs, and maybe something will turn up faster.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gold noticed Tev didn’t appear particularly enthused about that idea, but the Tellarite wisely kept quiet.

“Captain,” Shabalala said, “I’m receiving a message from the surface.”

“Finally.” Gold joined the tactical officer at his post and nodded for him to proceed.

“Stevens to da Vinci .”

Stevens? Gold had expected Gomez to report in, but evidently it couldn’t be helped. He hoped nothing had gone wrong. “Go ahead, Stevens.”

“Sir, we’ve discovered an underground society here, and they’re the ones who are using the power from the cube.”

“So those lifesigns Blue discovered were legitimate?”

“Yes, sir. They’re using the power to light their world, grow crops, and, basically, to sustain themselves. In fact, they pretty much worship the light.”

Gold considered that and realized their mission plans needed to be modified. “Would Gomez agree, then, that just shutting the power off outright is no longer an option?”

“Yes, sir. Since communications are blocked beneath the surface, she sent me and Pattie back up to the cube with Hawkins and Kim to report in and try to find another option in the cube.”

“Understood. Tev and Soloman are still looking for any information on Borg power systems that would apply to your situation, but so far nothing has jumped out.”

“That’s good to know, sir. We’ll figure this out one way or another.”

“I know you will,” Gold said. They always did. “Where are Gomez and Corsi right now?”

“They’re taking a tour of the city, sir,” Stevens replied. “One of the natives extended the invitation, and the commander didn’t think it would be diplomatically sound to refuse.”

“Does she think these people pose any danger?”

“Negative, sir, but she figured it would be a good way for her to learn more about the people here and how their society works.”

“Probably true,” Gold said. “Proceed as ordered, Stevens, and have Gomez contact me when she returns to your location.”

“Will do, sir. Stevens out.”

So then, no need for him to worry after all. The mission was still underway, and they’d made a first contact. It was clear they now had to find an alternative solution to their problem—eliminate the Borg power signature without shutting the power off. It was a challenge, but if he knew his people, they’d find some way around it.

“Well, I’m stumped.”

Fabian Stevens scratched his hairline and scowled at the Borg computer interface in the central core. Their goal was clear enough, but accomplishing it while trying to understand how the Borg systems worked was proving more difficult than expected. Because the power flow to the cube itself was negligible, the option to leave well enough alone had been available due to the low probability that the Borg would detect their power signature. However, one chance in a million was still a chance, and it was a fairly significant one that Starfleet wasn’t willing to risk.

“It’s not like you to give up so easily, Fabian,” Pattie said with a note of amusement. “As a talented, resourceful engineer, this kind of thing should be second nature to you.”

“And you,” Stevens said with a smirk, then glanced at Hawkins and Kim.

The deputy security chief raised his hands in mock defense. “Hey, it’s all Greek to me.”

“Maybe we should brainstorm a bit,” Pattie said. “What do we know?”

Stevens took a breath to gather his thoughts. “We know that the natives have redirected the power from the cube to give life to their city beneath the surface. As a result, there is very little power left bleeding through the cube itself, but there’s still a trace Borg power signature detectable from orbit.”

“Options?” asked Pattie.

“Well, the obvious one is shut the power down, thereby eliminating the power signature.”

Pattie nodded. “But?”

“But that would have a negative effect on the native population below, as the power seems to support their very existence. And that Sage woman hooked up to the alcove could die, not to mention all of their food crops. We’d be essentially condemning a species to death.”

“Isn’t that something we typically prefer to avoid?” Kim asked with a smirk.

“Absolutely,” Pattie agreed. “Secondary option?”

“Uh…keep the power flowing to the city somehow, yet still eliminate the Borg power signature,” Stevens said, then shook his head.

“Exactly,” Pattie said with an airy tinkle. “It’s just a matter of realigning the power grid so it emits a different identifying signature. The problem is just figuring out how this works,” she said, waving her two upper right appendages at the core interface, “so we can access the systems. Hopefully, Soloman and Tev will be able to help us in that department.”

I hate feeling so useless, Stevens thought. “So, until then, I guess we just tinker around inside the thing and hope it doesn’t blow up in our faces.”

“Uh, should I maybe stand back a kilometer or two?” asked Hawkins.

Stevens gave him a withering look. “Funny.”

Pattie tinkled gaily. “Sounds like a plan. Now, see if you can find an access panel and open her up. Hawkins, Kim, you guys stay put.”

Hawkins grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

“No problem,” Kim added.

As Stevens searched around for some sort of opening, his thoughts drifted to the U.S.S. Voyager and their resident ex-Borg. He’d been keeping up with the logs they sent along from the Delta Quadrant—indeed, the mobile emitter/interface device he’d cobbled together that got blown up by Luaran was inspired by those selfsame logs—and he knew that they had a de-assimilated drone onboard now.

“It’s too bad we can’t just open a comm line to Voyager,” he said. “A chat with Seven of Nine would really be helpful about now.”

“Wouldn’t it, though,” Pattie agreed. “I’d love to pick her brain about the structural fortitude of the Borg design and regenerative properties.”

Fascinating stuff, Stevens thought, smiling as he rolled his eyes. “Aha,” he said as he spotted a square drop-down panel near the control interface that looked hopeful. But before he had a chance to open it, the sound of hushed voices and footsteps echoed around their metallic environment and drew his attention. The voices belonged to Corsi and Gomez, he realized, and a few moments later the two women came around a corner, bright airy expressions on their faces. They couldn’t have looked more relaxed and refreshed if they’d spent the day at a Risan spa. Obviously Sonya hasn’t told Dom about last night. As they came closer, he noticed something a bit odd.

“Your hair’s wet,” he said. His curiosity went into overdrive as he wondered what the two of them had been up to.

Corsi raked her damp blond hair with her fingers. “You noticed, huh?” Oh yeah, thought Stevens. Her hair looked great when it was wet.

“Did you get caught in a rainstorm down there?” asked Pattie, then laughed at the crazy notion.

“Nah,” Gomez said with a nonchalant gesture. “After the tour, we went swimming.”

“Swimming?” Hawkins asked skeptically.

“Where?” Stevens asked.

“Where else?” Gomez shrugged. “The beach.”

“The beach?” Stevens had the feeling that he was the victim of some joke hatched by the two women. “Come on, you guys are pulling our legs.”

“Honestly, Fabe,” Corsi said, apparently enjoying the moment as much as Gomez. “They have an underground lake down there, complete with a sandy beach. The water’s even heated by an underwater fissure. It’s incredible.”

“Remarkable,” Pattie said. “That would have been something to see.”

“It was,” Gomez said. “And you should have seen the crops, Pattie. It was an unbelievable sight to behold. Maybe if there’s time after the mission, we’ll go see it again.”

Pattie waved her antennae delightedly.

“Hang on a second,” Stevens said. “Your uniforms are dry.”

“Of course they are,” Corsi said. “You don’t really think we’d go swimming wearing these things, do you?”

Stevens’s eyebrows lifted slowly, as a series of delightful implications occurred to him in vivid detail. “Now I really wish I’d been there.”

“Fabian,” Gomez said, getting back to business, “did you contact the captain?”

“Yeah,” Stevens said with a nod. “Soloman and Tev are still looking for any useful Borg tech in the database, but nothing so far. We’ve decided what we need to do is change the frequency of the power signature so it no longer identifies as Borg. That way we can allow the power flow to continue down to the city. It’s just a matter of figuring out these systems.” He gave the central interface a pat. “Frankly, we could really use Soloman for this.”

“You’re probably right,” Sonya said. “I’ll mention it to the captain when I report in. In the meantime, go ahead and fiddle around, and see if you can make any headway.”

“Right,” Stevens said as Gomez moved off to contact the ship. He returned to the access panel and opened it with little effort. The guts of the computer interface stared at him, all twinkling telltales and snaking conduits. “Right,” he said again, and stared right back.

David Gold listened to the report of his first officer and was astounded at what the away team had discovered in the underground city. That these comparatively primitive subterranean dwellers had created so much despite their limited means was truly inspiring. Gomez’s descriptions of the vast hydroponics chamber, interior rooms, and indoor beach could not possibly compare with seeing them firsthand. For now, though, he could only let his imagination run free in an attempt to visualize these impressive accomplishments.

“Truly unbelievable, Gomez,” Gold said. “More and more I’m glad Starfleet didn’t give this mission to the Hood. Otherwise, a tragedy might have happened here today.”

“Agreed, sir,” came Gomez’s voice through the bridge’s comm system. “And truly, words cannot do this place justice. I hope you get a chance to see the place for yourself.”

“Me, too,” Gold said, though he realized sight-seeing wasn’t their top priority. “What about the big issue?”

“Fabian and Pattie have come up with a plan to alter the frequency of the core’s power signature so it no longer registers as Borg. It’s a simple enough plan, but they can’t make heads or tails of the control interface. We need Soloman down here.”

“Stand by,” Gold said, turning his chair toward the aft stations. Soloman was already half-turned in his own chair, as though anticipating that his services would soon be required. “You ready to join the away team, Soloman?”

A smile spread across the Bynar’s face. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Report to the transporter room immediately.” Soloman jumped out of his chair and hurried to the turbolift. “Soloman’s on his way, Commander. Anything else?”

“I’d like to go back down and explain our plan to this Sage woman,” Gomez said. “It’s clear she’s the leader of these people, and while I’m not sure if she’ll comprehend everything, I think we owe her the courtesy. I don’t want any surprises.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Gold said. “Keep me apprised of your progress.”

“I will, sir. Gomez out.”

Gold turned again and faced his second officer. “Will you be able to continue without Soloman’s assistance, Tev?”

Tev stared at him for a long moment, as though trying to decide whether Gold was being serious or not. “I’ll manage, sir.”

Gold pursed his lips, then turned back toward the main viewscreen, using every ounce of his willpower to keep himself from smiling.

“I think I’m getting the hang of this,” Corsi said with a smile as she floated face-up on the cushion of air within the pathway hub’s gravity well. She’d expected some sort of response from Gomez, and when none came, she twisted around and “swam” after her friend as they made their way toward the pathway that would take them to the Sage’s chamber.

“Sonya,” she said. “What’s wrong with you?”

Gomez’s arm and leg movements ceased, and a telling pause followed before she half turned to face Corsi. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, you’ve been distracted ever since this mission started,” Corsi said. “Before it started, even. I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

“I appreciate that, Domenica,” Gomez said. “Really, I do. I just have a lot on my mind. It’s nothing.” She turned and started moving forward again.

She really doesn’t want to talk about it. Time to try a new tactic then. “You know, I couldn’t believe you passed on the group drink to do mission prep. That’s not like you.” Gomez paused again but didn’t turn around. Then Corsi remembered something from the mess hall, that uncomfortable look between Gomez and Fabian just before Sonya left. “Or maybe it wasn’t so much the drink itself but who proposed it. Did Fabian say something asinine to you? One of his stupid remarks that went too far?”

“No, Domenica,” Gomez said, turning to face her again. “Fabian didn’t do or say anything asinine to me. He…”

Corsi’s eyes narrowed. “He what?”

“He’s always been a very good friend to me. This is my problem, all right? Fabian doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

He has everything to do with it, Corsi decided, and she was going to find out what “it” was. “Whatever you say, Commander.”

As they resumed their progress to the pathway, Corsi noticed that the natives no longer stopped and gawked at them as they had the first time they’d come here. Now, they received only cursory glances as the people moved about their business without pause, no longer curiosities to be scrutinized.

As she drifted within reach of the pathway, Corsi felt the gravity around her alter, and she sank gently to her feet. She followed Sonya toward the opening of the cavern passageway, and they were met by their guide, Tey’sa, who appeared happy to see them.

“Sahn’ya,” she said in greeting. “Do’meenik’a.”

“Hello, Tey’sa,” Gomez said, and Corsi gave the woman a wave. “We’ve come to speak with Sage.”

Tey’sa’s smile faltered a little, but waved them forward. “Come.”

They followed the guide through the passageway and into Sage’s chamber. Tey’sa motioned them toward Sage, but did not advance herself. It was almost like she was afraid, as if she, a mere citizen, was pushing her luck just by being in Sage’s presence. That was a little paranoid, though Corsi had to admit there was something unnerving about Sage, this seemingly half-assimilated old woman with the blank stare. It was like she was watching even when she wasn’t.

Now who’s being paranoid?

Gomez moved before Sage and bowed at the waist in a gesture of respect. “Wise Sage, I have come to advise you of our plans to alter the power signature of the ship above so you may continue to safely use its energy to bring life to your people.” She went on to explain the theory behind Fabian and Pattie’s plan, which was hopefully under way now that Soloman had beamed down to help out in the core. “Please rest assured that the power to your society will not be disturbed.”

In her alcove, the old Sage stirred, and her bright eyes fixed on Gomez. “Your respect is pleasing to us, and your words have sense. Go forth and cond…conduct—” Sage broke off as her breathing spasmed into wheezing gasps, and her frail body shuddered in the grip of the device that held her. And then, abruptly, she slumped forward, motionless.

A chirp of alarm issued from Tey’sa’s mouth, and she took two tentative steps toward the machine. “Sage!”

As if in response, the machine clicked, levers shifted and the group of bars that served as a sort of cage moved aside. Now unencumbered, the body of Sage tumbled forward and collapsed to the stone floor. Tey’sa shrieked and fled the room in horror, her cries echoing along the passageway outside.

Corsi and Gomez hurried forward and knelt alongside the crumpled form of Sage. Sonya did a quick tricorder scan that confirmed the woman was dead. The Borg-like tendrils that had been visible beneath her skin were gone, and her eyes, once bright blue, had now darkened.

“What happened to her?” Corsi asked, though two possibilities occurred to her at once: she had died of natural causes or the machine had somehow killed her. While the latter seemed somewhat far-fetched, Corsi knew from experience that the idea of a killer machine was certainly not.

“I don’t know,” Gomez said, then rose and moved toward the machine to inspect it for any evidence.

Corsi turned Sage onto her back, then gently placed the woman’s arms alongside her body. She appeared so peaceful and ordinary now that she was free of the machine’s influence—if she was ever truly influenced by it.

A startled cry from Gomez brought Corsi to her feet in an instant, and she was horrified to see her struggling against the machine. The group of metal bars closed over Gomez’s chest, blocking her from escape. Against Gomez’s protests, two needle-like prongs on either side of her neck moved inward and punctured her flesh. A moment later, her struggles began to slow as her skin lost its color and the dark subcutaneous tendrils—such a familiar trait of Borg physiology—appeared and slowly snaked through her body. If that wasn’t enough, Corsi was alarmed to see Sonya’s rich brown eyes suddenly become an unsettling bright blue, just like Sage’s had been.

“Sonya!” Corsi cried, hoping to get through to her.

Gomez’s eyes turned and focused on the security chief, a sensation that gave Corsi a chill. “Power is life,” Gomez said. “The Light is all.”

Stunned, Corsi felt her mouth open at the shock of seeing her friend succumb to the machine so quickly. She slapped her combadge, and it chirped obediently.

“Corsi to Stevens—we’ve got a big problem.”

Chapter

9

S tevens always found it fascinating to watch Soloman as he interfaced with an alien computer terminal. Once the little guy was hooked up and he zoned out, there was no telling what was going through his head. To actually have the ability to gain access to, and learn about, alien technology by joining with it in this manner was extraordinary. Though there was always a level of risk involved, Soloman was usually able to avoid it without complication.

Of course, this is a bit different, he thought. Different, because this wasn’t just your ordinary run-of-the-mill alien computer with unknown security protocols and defense mechanisms that could potentially cause Soloman harm. This was a Borg computer, and although it was clear that the cube they were in was pretty much derelict and there were no living drones wandering about with their mechanical appendages waving about, the computer system was an entirely separate environment with its own dangers to consider. There was no telling what Soloman could face while he was rooting around in there. For all Stevens knew, there could be some program in the system that could assimilate Soloman through the connection he’d made via the access port on his hairless head.

Stevens told himself that he was being paranoid, that it was just his built-in aversion to the Borg that was fueling his imagination. Unfortunately, at this point the task Soloman was performing was their only available option. They’d already decided what they had to do to alter the Borg signature, but they could only do it through the cube’s own system, and in order to accomplish this, they had to know how to do it. Soloman was the only one who had a chance of figuring it out.

Soloman’s head twitched, and a soft grunt escaped his lips. A frown creased his pale lavender brow, and he shifted his feet. Stevens exchanged a look with P8 Blue.

“He’ll be all right,” Pattie assured him.

Kim was standing nearby with his phaser rifle raised. “If his skin goes pale, or he starts sprouting mechanical arms and tubes, we’re taking him out.”

“Hello?” Soloman said.

“Yes!” Stevens blurted, surprised by the sudden sound of the Bynar’s soft voice. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Soloman said. His position didn’t change, and he continued staring intently at the control panel before him. “Mr. Kim, it won’t be necessary to ‘take me out’.”

Kim grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Soloman. Just had to be ready for anything.”

“I understand,” Soloman said. “I’ve gained access to the cube’s central computer matrix and have located the subroutines that will allow me to alter the identifying power signature.”

“Wow, already?” asked Stevens. “I’m impressed.”

“It’s very organized in here, very structured. I suspect this allowed the Borg to access various commands and tasks as quickly and efficiently as possible.”

“That’s not surprising, considering who we’re dealing with here,” Pattie said.

“Yes,” Soloman agreed. “Shall I proceed?”

“How long will it take?” Stevens asked. They weren’t on any particular deadline, but the faster they wiped the cube’s identity as a Borg vessel, the more comfortable he’d be.

“Approximately eight minutes to apply the counter-program and initiate a test to confirm its success.”

Stevens nodded. “Let’s do it.” The Bynar didn’t respond again, so Stevens assumed he’d proceeded with his task.

“Corsi to Stevens—we’ve got a big problem.”

Stevens immediately heard the panic in Corsi’s voice and knew something had gone terribly wrong. “What is it, Dom? What’s wrong?”

“You remember the old woman hooked up to the machine?”

Of course he did. She’d creeped him out with those icy eyes. “Yeah, the Sage. What about her?”

“She’s dead.”

“Dead?”

“And you’ll never guess who took her place.”

Stevens heard Pattie gasp and realized Corsi wouldn’t be making such a big deal about this if some random native had taken Sage’s place in the machine. That could only mean one thing, and it chilled his blood.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Get Lense down here and bring her to Sage’s chamber. Sonya’s alive and doesn’t appear to be in any immediate danger, but I’d feel a hell of a lot better if Elizabeth was here.”

“I’m on it. I’ll see you shortly.” Stevens took a breath and swallowed as he tapped his combadge. “Stevens to da Vinci.”

“Go ahead, Stevens,” came David Gold’s voice.

“Captain, we have a…situation here that requires Dr. Lense’s immediate presence.” Stevens could almost see Gold’s eyes narrow.

“Stevens, your voice is telling me this is more than a ‘situation’. I hope you’re not sugar-coating it to make it more palatable to the old man’s ears.”

Stevens winced. “I hope not, sir. Did Commander Gomez brief you on the Sage?”

“Yes. The old woman hooked up to the alcove gizmo. Serves as kind of a spiritual conduit for her people.”

“That’s the one,” Stevens said with a nod. “Well, she’s dead, and apparently the new Sage is Commander Gomez.”

“What?”

“I don’t think there’s any need to panic right now, sir. Commander Corsi told me Sonya is alive and in no present danger. She’d just like to have Dr. Lense on-site, presumably for when we…free her.”

After a brief pause during which Stevens imagined Gold was either pulling his hair out, shaking his head in frustration, or getting his blood pressure under control, the captain’s voice rang out again. “All right, Stevens, I’m sending Lense down immediately. And for God’s sake, keep me apprised.”

“Understood, sir. Stevens out.” Fabian blew out a breath and realized he needed to get his own blood pressure under control.

“The captain handled that rather well, I thought,” Pattie said with an upward lift to her voice. She was trying to keep things positive too, though Stevens found it impossible not to worry.

A moment later, a twinkling curtain of silver light dropped out of thin air to their left, then dissipated, leaving the pregnant form of Elizabeth Lense in its wake.

“Where is she?” Lense asked as she marched toward them, two different medkits slung over her shoulders and a grim expression on her face that said she wasn’t keen on dilly-dallying.

“This way, Doc,” Stevens said, motioning Lense to follow him. At a nod from Hawkins, Kim also moved to join them.

Poised at the hole in the ground, Stevens turned back to the others. “As soon as Soloman is finished, inform the captain.”

“Understood,” Pattie said. “Good luck!”

Stevens waved in reply, then eased himself into the hole.

The first thing Elizabeth Lense thought as she slipped carefully out of the tunnel and onto a balcony that overlooked a great impassible chasm, was that Stevens had taken a wrong turn somewhere and now they would have to crawl like animals back through the grime of that murky passage and find the correct tunnel, the delay putting Gomez’s life at further risk. Though she couldn’t recall seeing any branching tunnels along the way, the last thing Lense wanted to do right now was more crawling on her hands and knees. As much as she loathed to admit it, she wasn’t exactly in the most ideal condition for that particular activity. Maybe I should have let Sarjenka take my place after all. But then she thought of Gomez’s situation, and that was something she wanted to deal with herself. Seniority and all that.

Lense felt a sharp jab on the inside of her abdomen as her child gave her a swift kick. “Don’t get any funny ideas,” she said, her hands moving instinctively to her bulging belly. She couldn’t hold back the smile though, as the baby inside her moved about.

Stevens paused at the edge of the balcony and turned back. “Sorry, Doctor, they just come naturally.”

Lense gave him a withering look. “I was talking to my kid.”

“Oh,” said Stevens. “Anyway, we’re here.”

Lense joined Kim and Stevens at the edge of the precipice and scowled. This wasn’t the time for Stevens to start cracking jokes. “Where here? All I see is a dead end.”

“Not exactly.” Before Lense could do anything about it, Stevens simply stepped off the ledge.

“Fabian!” she cried out in alarm, but to her surprise and great relief, the dark-haired tactical specialist wasn’t plunging to his death. He just floated there as though on a cushion of air. He wriggled about so Lense could see his sheepish grin turn slowly toward her.

Next to her, Kim was grinning. “I think we should’ve told her about the gravity well, sir.”

“Yeah,” Stevens said. “Sorry, Doc.”

“That’s all right, I like having my heart in my throat,” Lense muttered as she moved to the edge.

Stevens maneuvered himself a little closer. “I could give you a hand if you’d like.”

Lense looked at him and scowled. When would it end? “Want me to hold the lift door?” “I’ll get that hypo for you, Doctor.” “You stay put, I’ll get your lunch.”

“I wouldn’t, thanks,” Lense said, trying not to sound too snippy. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”

Stevens winced. “Sorry, I just—”

“Yeah, yeah, you and everybody else,” Lense said. “Just tell me what I have to do.”

“All right, well, it’s more fun to take a flying leap, but considering your, ah, condition, all you need to do is just step off,” Stevens said. “Then just sort of swim like you’re in water. It might take a minute or two to figure it out, but it’s not too hard once you get the hang of it. Just follow me. We’re heading to that walkway down there.”

Lense followed his gesture to one of many crisscrossing pathways where the native inhabitants walked over, sideways, and under without difficulty. It was a remarkable image, but she reminded herself she wasn’t here to sightsee. She slid the medkits off her shoulders and handed them to Kim. “Hold these.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kim said, taking them.

She then took a deep breath and stepped into the void. Her balance teetered precariously, but she steadied herself with her arms and legs and smiled as she righted herself.

Piece of cake, she thought, then followed Stevens down to the walkway. Kim followed behind her, phaser strapped to his back, medkits in his hand. A few of the natives gave her curious glances, their attention directed mainly at her distended belly.

Stevens led her along a lighted passageway carved into the rock, then turned into a room on the right. A crowd of natives had gathered around the machine Stevens had described to her during their crawl through the tunnel. She could see Gomez locked into the machine, her brown eyes now an eerie bright blue.

“Domenica,” she called as she, Kim, and Stevens joined the security chief. The natives maintained a certain distance from the machine, as though as a sign of respect. This suited Lense just fine.

“Any change?” Stevens asked.

Corsi held Stevens’s look before shaking her head. “No. She just stands there, staring. It’s like she’s aware, but…not. It’s creepy.”

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Lense said. Corsi explained how the original Sage—and she gestured to the covered body off to the right—died and the machine released her. Gomez then went over to the machine to inspect the mechanism, and it just grabbed her, locking her in and making its connections.

“There was nothing I could do,” Corsi said. “It happened so fast.”

Lense nodded, noting the trace of guilt in her room-mate’s voice. She moved closer to Gomez, making note of the connections at her neck and the discoloration of her face. She wondered if this was how the Borg themselves began—an innocent dependency on technology that suddenly went wrong. She recalled her time on the Jabari planet with Dr. Julian Bashir and their musings about whether that planet, which existed in another universe, might have been the Borg homeworld. These thoughts led her to think of Saad, of course, the father of her baby. But now wasn’t the time for reminiscing, and she blinked her eyes to return her attention to the here and now.

“She almost looks assimilated,” Lense said.

Corsi glanced at her. “Yeah, we try to avoid thinking about that, Doctor.”

“Sorry.” It was an accurate observation, however, though clearly Gomez hadn’t been transformed into a Borg drone, despite the similarities in surface appearance. At least nothing mechanical had sprouted from her body. Lense moved over to the body of the previous Sage and pulled back the burlap-like covering that had been draped over her. Other than appearing quite old, there were no obvious discrepancies beyond this race’s normal physiological appearance.

“Did she look like Sonya originally?” she asked. Lense directed the question at Corsi, but the security chief had apparently not heard it, staring as she was at Gomez. “Domenica?”

“Yes, Doctor,” Stevens cut in, a trace of irritation in his voice. “She did. Borgish face and those weird blue eyes.”

Lense nodded and pulled the cloth back over the old woman’s face. “All right, I have a plan.” And they’re not going to like it. “The machine released the old woman when she died. One would assume, then, that it would do the same if Sonya was to die.”

Whatever fog had bogged Corsi’s mind cleared abruptly, and the security chief looked at Lense as though she’d just suggested they fire Gomez into the sun. “What?” she asked, her voice a soft hiss.

“No way, Doc,” Stevens said. “We’re not killing Sonya to save her life. There’s gotta be another way.”

“There’s always another way, Fabian, but I don’t have another medical solution,” Lense said, then decided the time for delicacy was past. “Now, I shouldn’t have to point out that this device is a machine, and you, Fabian, are an engineer. So do your job and find another way.”

Like a splash of ice water, her words had the desired effect, waking Stevens up from his unproductive funk. Granted, he’d only been here in Gomez’s presence for as long as she had, but from the moment he came in here he should have been working to find a solution, instead of dwelling on the first officer’s dire condition.

Stevens moved toward the machine and began examining the connections and machinery in the alcove. Lense noticed Sonya’s bright eyes following his every move. After several minutes, he turned back to her and Corsi.

“The conduits along the wall appear to feed power to the machine,” he said, pointing them out, “and it’s the machine that’s holding the commander. If we could interrupt the power flow, just temporarily, it might be enough to break its hold on—”

“Power is life!” Sage-Gomez cried out, almost in a panic. “The Light is all!” She turned her piercing gaze on the assembled natives, and they abruptly began to move toward the away team.

“Oh, dear,” Lense said.

“Um, all in favor of my plan?” Stevens asked.

“It’s great, Fabe,” said Corsi, raising her phaser toward the advancing crowd. “Do it.”

“I could use a little time here, and the added pressure of these zombies isn’t helping.”

Corsi swung her phaser up at the conduit connections Stevens had pointed out and fired, but a Borg-like shield sprung up and absorbed the energy. She raised the power setting and fired again, but the results were the same.

“Any other requests?” she asked.

“Any Klingons up your sleeves?”

“Afraid not.” Corsi backed up a step, then muttered something Lense couldn’t quite make out. She fiddled with the phaser settings then aimed at the crowd.

“No!” Sage-Gomez shouted as though anticipating Corsi’s action.

Corsi hesitated, her firing arm quaking a little and a grimace of frustration pulling at her mouth. Lense willed her to press the trigger, but she had a feeling Corsi’s loyalty to Gomez, even in her current state, was stronger than her need to shoot the natives.

“Dammit,” Corsi said. She raised her phaser up toward the ceiling, and Lense heard the power setting change once again. Corsi fired, then dodged out of the way as a shower of rock and dust rained down upon the ground. She then pointed the phaser back at the crowd, who seemed to get the unspoken message and ceased their advance. “Okay, Fabe. You’re on.”

“Stevens to Pattie,” he said in an eerily calm voice, “how are things going up there?”

“Mission accomplished,” the Nasat’s voice said through Stevens’s combadge. “I’ve informed the captain, and we were just waiting to hear from you.”

“Tell Soloman ‘good work,’ and have him and Hawk beam back to the ship,” Stevens said. “Have them assure the captain that everything’s under control down here.”

“Is it?”

“Of course it is.”

“Just checking. What about me?”

“I need you to find me a Borg power flow regulator that’s intact and bring it down to me on the double.”

“I’m on it. Blue out.”

“Now we wait,” Stevens said to his companions.

Lense nodded. “And hope Domenica’s demonstration is effective for another five or ten minutes.” Then she held her hands up defensively and let herself grin despite the circumstances. “No pressure, though.”

A smile broke through Corsi’s grim facade, and the security chief laughed softly. Lense smiled back and was pleased that whatever mental place Corsi had been in earlier, she’d now left it far behind.

Chapter

10

“I ’m all set up here,” Pattie said, perched atop Sage’s alcove machine. With Stevens’s help, they had connected the Borg power flow regulator she had retrieved from the cube to the conduits leading from the wall to the machine itself. In theory, once activated, the power would be redirected in a circular loop, keeping it from the machine itself and causing it to release Gomez. Once that happened, they would allow the power to flow back into the machine, and everyone would be happy.

Again, in theory.

“Power is life!” Sage-Gomez called out once more.

“She certainly is unrelenting on that point, isn’t she?” Stevens remarked.

Pattie looked down at her friend and crewmate and found it difficult to see Gomez in her present condition. The human looked so forlorn, locked in that vertical position and in her new state of mind. Pattie imagined that Gomez was aware of everything going on around her but was unable to break free of the machine’s conditioning.

We’re coming for you, Commander, she thought, then said aloud, “She seems to know what we’re planning.”

“She does,” Corsi said. “This new Sage isn’t some elderly alien woman anymore. She’s a Starfleet engineer who has been listening to everything we’ve been saying. I have to believe Sonya’s rooting for us on some level. She dropped that shield after all.”

“The Light is all,” Sage-Gomez said in a quiet faraway voice. Pattie guessed she was preparing for whatever effect their plan was going to have on her.

“All right, Pattie,” Stevens said. “Let’s do this. Throw the switch.”

Pattie flicked the toggle she’d incorporated into the regulator, and a low thrum emanated from the device as the power shooting into the machine was suddenly rerouted. Almost immediately the glowing modules in the machine began to flicker, and Gomez herself shuddered in place, her entire body wrenching to and fro against the metal arms and braces that held her.

Across the room, the watching crowd of natives being held back by Corsi’s phaser became more agitated as their Sage convulsed and the machine banged and groaned. Gomez herself let out a wail of anguish that filled Pattie with despair and the hope that this wouldn’t last much longer.

“Sage!” cried Tey’sa and the rest of the onlookers. They jostled forward, and their slight advance began to worry Corsi.

“Stay back!” she shouted at them, then turned to look at Stevens. “I don’t think they’re going to restrain themselves much longer.” He threw her a worried look that represented what Pattie herself was feeling.

Suddenly, the group of bars across Gomez’s chest snapped open, but since the neck spikes were still attached to her, they weren’t in a position to free her just yet.

“Get ready, Doc,” Stevens said as he readied himself in front of Gomez. Lense moved into position nearby with her medkits open and a medical tricorder waiting in her grasp.

And then the neck spikes popped away from her body, and Gomez crumpled forward like a rag doll into Stevens’s waiting arms. “Pattie, shut down the regulator,” Stevens called out as he lay Gomez down on the floor. Pattie did so, and the power once again flowed freely into the machine.

“Sage!” the crowd erupted again, then surged forward despite Corsi’s protestations. But the anxious natives didn’t attack or try to thrust Gomez back into the machine. They just stood around her and watched as Lense worked on her.

As Corsi made her way around the crowd, she paused at the machine’s empty alcove and contemplated it for a moment. Pattie had a sickening feeling that Corsi might step inside herself, but then the security chief turned away, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Tey’sa,” Corsi called. Pattie had no idea who Tey’sa was, but a moment later, one of the natives, a woman, broke through the crowd and approached.

“Do’meenik’a,” the woman said, mangling the pronunciation of Corsi’s given name.

Corsi gestured toward the alcove. “Sage,” she said, then indicated the native. “Tey’sa.” She brought her hands together and clasped them tightly. “Sage.”

Domenica, what are you doing? Pattie thought, but she knew exactly what Corsi was doing. They had taken the natives’ Sage, so she was giving them one back.

The woman Tey’sa seemed uncertain, but Corsi led her toward the alcove with a reassuring smile and a gentle manner. Tentatively at first, then with increasing confidence, Tey’sa stepped into the vacant space. She let out a shout of alarm as the machine grabbed hold of her, and the outburst drew the immediate attention of the natives. There was a moment of anxiety as Tey’sa’s body adjusted to its new environs, then the woman fell still as her face paled and her eyes became that striking blue.

“Power is life,” Sage-Tey’sa said. “The Light is all.”

Pattie breathed a sigh of relief. It was over.

Sonya Gomez struggled to open her eyes, but her lids felt as though they were made of lead, and she could only manage a few quick glimpses of the outside world before she gave up. But even had she not been able to open her eyes at all, she would have known she was in sickbay aboard the da Vinci. The sounds here were always so hushed, and there was that lingering scent of sterilization that screamed “doctor’s office.”

“You had us worried, Gomez,” came the voice of Captain Gold to her left.

Gomez turned her head and tried to open her eyes to see Gold’s face, but she couldn’t do it. What the hell is going on with my eyes? “Sorry, sir. It took me by surprise. I should have been more careful.”

“Probably true,” Gold said, “but that’s behind us now.”

Gomez moved a hand to rub her right eye, but recoiled as she felt a slap on the back of her hand. “Captain!”

“Sorry, Sonya, that was me,” came the familiar voice of Sarjenka, their new deputy CMO. Gomez could almost hear a laugh in the Dreman’s tone. “Dr. Lense wanted me to make sure you didn’t rub your eyes. It’ll only make things worse.”

Gomez sighed. “Thanks, Sarj. I’ll try to restrain myself.”

“I’ll go let the doctor know you’re awake.” Sarjenka excused herself and once again Gomez was alone with Gold. At least, she thought she was.

“Captain?”

“Yes, I’m still here, Gomez,” Gold said.

Despite what she’d been through on the planet, her primary concern was what they’d gone down there for in the first place. “What about the mission, sir?”

“The mission was a success,” Gold said, and Gomez smiled in relief. “Soloman was able to interface with the computer core and adjust the power signature of the cube. It no longer reads as Borg.”

“That’s excellent news, sir. And what about the native population? After everything that’s happened, have they banished us forever?” That was the last thing Gomez wanted, but she would certainly understand it. They’d caused their society a significant disruption, and it was possible they didn’t want to see another Starfleet officer again.

Gold chuckled softly. “No, no. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. They’re very pleased with their new Sage—your former guide, Tey’sa, as it happens—and they’ve welcomed another away team down to explore their city. Abramowitz and Faulwell have been down there for six hours.”

Sonya smiled. “Good. I was hoping Carol would get the chance to see the place.” The ship’s cultural specialist would be like a kid in a candy store down there.

“Now, as for you,” Gold said, “effective immediately you’re on two weeks’ recuperative leave.”

“Sir, that’s not really necessary,” Sonya said. “I’m fine.”

“Commander, I tolerate a lot of things on this ship, but I draw the line at a first officer who can’t even open her eyes to see what she’s doing.”

Gomez sighed again, then couldn’t help but smile. “Do you have something against officers with an ocular handicap, Captain?”

“Not at all,” Gold replied in good humor. “As you well know, in today’s day and age, even a sightless officer has the ability to see.”

And she did know. She thought briefly of Geordi La Forge aboard the Enterprise, then nodded in defeat. “Touché.”

“Two weeks,” Gold repeated. “It’s not open for debate.”

“Aye, sir,” Gomez said with a note of resignation. “Two weeks.”

“The first two days of which will be spent right here recovering your eyesight,” Lense said as she joined them, her voice coming from behind Gomez, then moving around to her right.

“Oh, now what did I do to deserve that?” she protested good-naturedly.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Gold said, then moved off, the sounds of his departure receding in Gomez’s ears.

“What’s the story with my eyes, Elizabeth?” Gomez asked. “Why can’t I open them?”

“I think it’s a side effect of whatever entered your system to cause your eyes to turn that bright blue. From what I can tell, it allowed your pupils to take in far more light than is normally safe, without suffering any damage to the retina. It also gave you a unique visual perception that allowed you to see things far beyond the normal human range.”

Gomez frowned. “Really? I don’t remember anything like that at all.”

“It’s not surprising,” Lense said. “You were pretty out of it. Then again,” she said after a moment, “it’s just a theory.”

Gomez laughed and shook her head. “You, Doctor, are evil.”

“Shhh,” Lense whispered close to her ear. “Not everyone knows yet.”

Gomez grinned and decided two days in sickbay wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Two days later, Gomez had fled sickbay and was back in her cabin, lying in bed in her darkened quarters, trying to get some sleep. But sleep wouldn’t come. She still had no memory of her time as Sage, but what had been occupying her mind lately were those final moments just before her memory failed her.

She’d been terrified. Terrified at being so helpless against the machine as it seized her and pulled her into its grasp. Terrified at feeling her identity, her sense of self—her soul—being leeched away. Terrified that her friends wouldn’t be able to help her.

Even now, it frightened her to consider what might have happened if the machine hadn’t been as benevolent as it turned out, if she had been responsible for the deaths of her friends or the native people who had worshipped her.

If it frightens you to consider, then don’t consider, she chided herself. Just close your eyes and go to sleep. She wanted nothing more than that right now, but it wouldn’t come. She stared up at the ceiling, which was as dull as ever, and tried to will herself to sleep by the hum of the engine.

Slumber remained elusive. Instead, her thoughts drifted to the mistake she’d made with Stevens the other night and the thoughts that had driven her to take that action in the first place. She smiled as an image of the lovely Wayne Omthon passed through her mind. His emerald green eyes seemed to plead with her to give him a chance…to give them a chance.

Gomez knew Stevens had been right. The best way to honor Kieran Duffy’s memory would be to move on with her life. The last thing he would want her to do would be to waste her life waiting for something that was either never going to happen or wouldn’t happen unless she made the effort to make it happen. Her close calls this year had driven home the point that life was finite, and she might as well be happy living the only one she had for however long it lasted.

Tonight, she was going to be the “space-stalker.”

Gomez slipped out of bed and sat down at her computer terminal. “Computer, open a subspace channel to the freighter Vulpecula, personal quarters of commanding officer Wayne Omthon.”

“Subspace link in progress,” the artificial voice said pleasantly. Even it seemed to be rooting for her.

The connection seemed to be taking an awful long time to take hold, but just as Gomez began to wonder if Omthon was even aboard the ship, the screen awakened and she saw him lean close to the screen.

“Sonya?” he asked after a moment, surprise lacing his voice. His black hair was a mess and his broad shoulders and chest were bare.

She smiled at the sight of him, and her chest swelled with welcome warmth. It was as if the pheromones he’d inherited from his Orion grandmother were transmitting through the subspace link.

“Wayne, I’m so happy I reached you. I’m sorry if I woke you up, but this couldn’t wait. I know it’s been a while since we last had contact with each other, but I just wanted to let you know that I still want to try to make things work between us. I’m ready to move on, and Kieran would want me to move on.”

Omthon smiled. “I’m glad to hear you say this, Sonya. Really, I am.”

A wave of giddiness took hold of Gomez, making her feel like a quivering schoolgirl about to ask a boy out on a date. It took every ounce of willpower to keep it under control. “Look, I’ve just started two weeks’ medical leave. Is there any way we can…”

Sonya’s words drifted off, and her expression fell as she saw a pair of green arms, darker than Wayne’s own skin tone, appear around either side of his chest. A moment later, the face of an Orion woman appeared over his right shoulder, her black hair cascading about her bare shoulders. The warmth that had felt so good in Gomez’s chest a moment ago, now flooded into her face, and it didn’t feel good at all.

“You coming back to bed, Pappy?” the woman purred in his ear. Then she noticed Gomez on the viewscreen and cocked her head slightly. “Oh,” she said, a trace of curious amusement in her voice. “Hello.”

Sonya fell back against her chair as Wayne said something to the Orion, but his words didn’t register. She was too busy experiencing the end of her life, because, really, after what she’d just seen, her life had to be ending.

“Sonya,” Wayne said as the Orion slinked out of view. He said her name again until she focused on the screen again. He stabbed a hand into his hair and shook his head. To his credit, he looked convincingly crestfallen. “Oh my God, Sonya, I’m—I’m so sorry. This doesn’t mean anything. And she knows it. Really. It’s just…it’s been so long since we last had any contact, I…I thought maybe you’d…”

“Given up on you?” Sonya asked, anger seeping into her voice now. Unshed tears brimmed and burned in her eyes, but she wasn’t about to let them fall right now. “You were the one who cancelled out on our vacation on Hidalgo, Wayne. Why didn’t you call me?”

Wayne’s mouth worked briefly as though he were trying to find the right words. “I’ve…I’ve been busy.” He shook his head. “I know that sounds like a lame excuse, but—”

“I know,” Sonya said, a humorless laugh in her voice. “It’s true. And it seems to be the story of our lives, doesn’t it?”

Wayne held his head in his hands for a long moment, a perfect opportunity for Gomez to close the connection. But for some reason, she kept it open, waiting. Waiting for this mess to sort itself out somehow.

Finally, he looked up at her. “Sonya, you’re right. You’re right. I should have called you. But I didn’t. And I’m sorry, all right? Please don’t think I feel any differently about you now than I did before, because I don’t. I also want to get together with you like we planned, and…Dammit, I feel like such an idiot!”

Sonya shook her head, realizing there would be no sorting out of this particular mess. At least not right now. “No, Wayne. You’re not the idiot.”

“Sonya, don’t—”

His face disappeared from view as she severed the connection. She sat there for a minute in her darkened room, just staring at the empty screen and wondering if she’d made the right decision. Truth was, she didn’t know. What she did know was that she was hurting. Sonya brushed a tear away from her cheek and leaned forward onto the table, burying her face in her arms.

“I…am such…an idiot,” she confessed into her sleeve.

Eventually, she shuffled back to bed and lay back on her pillow. The hum of the ship actually managed to calm her, but what had just happened, not to mention Corsi’s inevitable probe into Stevens’s alleged “asinine” behavior, did little to calm her into a restful sleep.

Finally, she thought of one thing that might help. It made no sense whatsoever, especially now that they were two days gone from the planet where the cube had crashed, where everything had begun and everything had almost come to an end.

But she did it anyway.

“Computer—raise light level to fifty percent.” The lights in the room came up, and the soft warmth of their illumination filled her with a sense of calm that quickly consumed her. She smiled and curled up under the bedcovers.

The Light is all, she thought as she drifted into peaceful slumber.

About the Author

JEFF D. JACQUES (pronounced “Jakes”) first found success in the world of Star Trek fiction through the Star Trek: Strange New Worlds short story contest, which saw his tales “Kristin’s Conundrum” (with Michelle A. Bottrall), “Beginnings,” and “Solace in Bloom” find print in the fifth, seventh, and ninth volumes, respectively. He is pleased and proud to have taken his first command of the da Vinci crew, and thanks Keith R.A. DeCandido for the opportunity to do so in the first place. Jeff hails from Ottawa, Canada, where he continues to live and breathe to this day.

COMING NEXT MONTH:

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A new six-part epic covering thirty years of Star Trek history, continuing with an adventure that takes place between The Motion Picture and The Wrath of Khan!

BOOK 4: THE DARKNESS DROPS AGAIN

by Christopher L. Bennett

The rebuilding of Mestiko is starting to make progress: the atmosphere is partially restored, and Federation scientists are introducing new methods of replenishing the planet’s biosphere. But their efforts are being stymied by the growing power of the mar-Attya, who shun all offworlders.

The arrival of the Starship Enterprise under the command of James T. Kirk proves less than fortuitous, as the ship becomes a flashpoint for all of Mestiko’s troubles. Now Raya elMora, the leader of the planetary council, finds herself facing exile—which could spell doom for Mestiko….

A new eBook from the author of the acclaimed novel Ex Machina.

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COMING IN MAY:
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Continuing the adventures of the U.S.S. da Vinci, as Captain David Gold, Commander Sonya Gomez, and the rest of Starfleet’s miracle workers solve the problems of the galaxy, one disaster at a time.

THE ART OF THE COMEBACK

by Glenn Greenberg

After the events of The Art of the Deal, former tycoon Rod Portlyn was left destitute, and he’s now, a year later, reduced to running archeological digs. But when he discovers a bizarre artifact, everything changes.

Portlyn sees the deadly device as his means of regaining his wealth and power—and also getting revenge on the crew of the da Vinci. And his first target is Domenica Corsi’s father….

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#8: Invincible Book 2 by David Mack & Keith R.A.DeCandido

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