Operation Assimilation: The Fate of the Lalo
Federation
The Fate of the Lalo
Stardate 43994.8
The USS Lalo. Mediterranean Class supply ship. NCC-43837
19:00
After verifying the last few containers of medical supplies for the shipment to Sentinel Minor IV Lieutenant Lindt tapped his combadge “Lindt to bridge. That’s the last of the medical supplies. Loading is complete, we’re ready to ship out.” Standing from the command chair Commander Berg responded “right on time. Good job Ray.” She then nodded at the grey-haired Efrosian at the conn “Take us out Ganoreg. Maximum warp as soon as we break orbit.” Hearing footsteps she turned to see Captain Vargas crossing the bridge from her ready room “report Commander.” Berg smiled “Captain. Cargo is loaded, we have left Zeta Alpha II on course for Sentinel Minor IV. ETA-” She glanced at the nearest console “8 hours 7 minutes. Just a routine transfer run.” Checking the nearest chronometer readout Vargas nodded “Very good. You seem to have things under control here, if you’re good to mind the store I’m going to turn in early tonight. Wake me in 7 hours Maureen.”
22:00
“Captain to the bridge.” Awakened by the shrill chirp of the ships intercom Captain Anne-Marie Vargas rolled over in her bed and slapped her combadge “its 22:00 hours commander, this better be good.” As the red alert klaxon sounded in the corridor and the captain stood and began to get dressed the first officer responded “trouble.”
Straightening her uniform Captain Vargas stepped onto the spartan bridge of the Lalo, its gray and cream color scheme bathed in harsh red light “report!” Nodding at the imposing gray cube on the viewscreen Berg began “they just dropped out of warp sir. Directly in our path.” “Hail them” the captain ordered. The words had barely left her mouth when the monotone voice droned over the comm channel “We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile.” Suddenly the bridge shuddered beneath them and the Bolian at the engineering station announced “tractor beam. We’re being pulled in.” “Back us off full power!” the captain yelled over the alert klaxons. “It’s not enough” Ganoreg reported “We can’t break free!” No escape. Vargas turned to Berg “send out a distress call to Starbase 157.” Nodding Berg bent to her console and hastily composed a message “To Starbase 157 or anyone in range this is the USS Lalo. We are under attack by an unknown aggressor. The vessel is large…cube shaped. They have us in a trac-” Suddenly the ship shook violently from a weapon impact to the saucer section and the Bolian reported “shields are down. We’re being boarded.” Cursing under her breath and hoping that some part of her message got out Berg grabbed a phaser from beneath her console just as three Borg drones materialized on the bridge. She fired at one but her weapon had no effect, bouncing harmlessly off the drones’ energy shields. Springing from the engineering station the Bolian lunged toward another drone, but the drone thrust out an arm catching the Bolian in midair and sending him into the aft console hard enough to break his neck. Berg turned to fire at another, this time with a higher setting on her phaser when a third grabbed her from behind sending the phaser flying. As she attempted to struggle against the drones iron grip she saw two more of them materialize. One grabbed Ganoreg and threw him against the console while the other restrained the captain. As Berg watched the others struggling helplessly she suddenly felt cold metal on her temple and then a pair of tubules burst from the one of the drones knuckles and penetrated her neck. As she watched the same fate befall her captain and the conn officer she felt useless. She had failed them. NO! Then suddenly she realized she couldn’t move. As the drones lifted her to her feet she tried to fight back, to struggle, but the will was gone. The last thought she had before she dematerialized off the bridge and unconsciousness took her was that she failed to protect her captain.
22:33
Maureen Berg lay on a cold black and silver table in a sterile assimilation chamber onboard the Borg cube. As a Borg drone worked a console adjacent to the table Maureen summoned the last of her strength and tried to sit upright to no avail. She all too quickly realized that she was confined to the table by a restraint field. Resistance was futile. She tried to clear her head, to concentrate on one thought. They might take her body, but for now at least, she still had her mind. As the drone began to surgically remove her forearm she focused on one thought “Mother.” Her mother Mae, a school teacher. As another drone removed her uniform and began fitting her torso with Borg armor plating she thought of her mother, the tall stately blonde woman in the blue dress. As the Borg nanites coursed throughout her body and cybernetic implants erupted from her hands and face, she struggled to maintain control. She thought of her mother standing in front of a classroom full of students, teaching them the story of the history of the Federation. Becoming aware of the collective voice in her mind she tried to ignore it. But it kept getting louder, more incessant, becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. “One thought. Mother.” Over the droning of the collective voice she thought of her mother’s cooking, those little cinnamon cakes she made her class every year. “I…am…Maureen…Berg…” As the drones finished installing the cybernetic components on her temple and the ocular implant to replace her freshly removed right eye a new thought appeared in her mind “I…what is I?” The collective voice now spoke alone in her mind, the turmoil of her own thoughts drowned out by the unified many that was the collective vox sola “We. We are Borg.” “My-” she tried to fight it “name-” “Designation is 5 of 12 subjunct of unimatrix 525.” The collective voice issued commands to the freshly assimilated drone “Assimilation complete. Report to alcove, grid 216 subjunction 924. Regenerate.” With that 5 of 12 subjunct of unimatrix 525 started down the corridor.
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