Captain’s Log; Stardate 83405.31
We entered the Sierra Sector with slight apprehension, but we knew that we can’t back down. The Borg has tried to invade and destroy the worlds in both the Alpha Quadrant and the Beta Quadrant for years since the Enterprise D first encountered them so many years ago. I reflect on the history of the Borg and can’t help but wonder if what Captain Archer was describing in his starlogs in the 22nd Century was not in fact the Borg that they had encountered. And if it was, what were they doing there. None of that matters now, it would seem, as we prepare for battle.
I just hope it isn’t our last.
“Shields up,” T’Chall called out as she moved to her command position. “Ready tricobalt devices. Let’s make the Borg sorry they ever decided to venture this far into Federation space.” The crew responded as T’Chall always expected of them; with efficiency. They’d worked together as a crew for five years, and they only got better with time.
“We’re being hailed,” Lt. H’Lorru announced, a beige coated Caitian who happened to keep his mane tied back at all times. A recent addition to the crew, but a welcome one.
“Let me guess,” T’Chall muttered as the usual Borg greeting sounded out across the bridge.
“We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ships. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile.”
“You’d think after nearly thirty years they’d come up with something new,” F’aat, first officer of the Ocelot said as she shook her head. F’aat had been first officer for as long as T’Chall was captain.
“Obviously originality is irrelevant to the Borg,” T’Chall added with a smirk. “Ensign Side,” she called out to her helmsman, one of three crew members not Caitian, this one an Orion. “Attack pattern Omega. I don’t want to wait and see what the Borg has planned.”
“Yes Captain,” Side said with a grin as she piloted the ship into position.
The Ocelot, like her sister ship, the Defiant, was a versatile ship. Quick, powerful and deceptive. The Ocelot had a cloaking device similar to the Defiant’s as well, but after years of helping the Romulans find a new home, the Ocelot and her crew were honoured with several Romulan technical designs which helped her even more than the Defiant ever had. If the Ocelot had been flying with the Task Force that struck against the Dominion, that war would have ended a lot sooner.
Weapons fired as the Side dive bombed the lone Borg cube that had invaded this sector of space. On her port side was an Odyssey Class star ship called the U.S.S. Farpoint, on her starboard side, a Miranda Class vessel called the U.S.S. Merrimack. The Ocelot would lead the way.
“No other ships in sight, Captain,” Natt, the Ocelot’s tactical officer announced, a young Caitian who’d seen his fair share of battles thanks to signing on with this ship. “They’re being a little bold, don’t you think.”
“Don’t underestimate them, lieutenant,” T’Chall replied as the ship rocked from a blast from the cube. Nothing the ship couldn’t handle. “If there’s one thing the Borg is good at, it’s adapting.”
The Ocelot kept her attack up, firing a volley from her sets of phase cannon and launching a full spread of photon torpedoes. As the Ocelot fired directly on the Borg cube, the Merrimack swung about to hit the cube’s more sensitive areas. Meanwhile, the Farpoint acted as a diversion so the two smaller vessels could make the most damage in as little time as possible.
“The Merrimack is caught in a tractor beam,” tactical officer Natt responded from his console. “Her weapons are down. Shields are being depleated.”
“Helm,” T’Chall quickly announced. “Give the Merrimack support. Fire on the tractor beam. We can’t lose that ship.” Side quickly agreed and began steering the ship toward the Merrimack’s position.
“Captain,” called out M’Kaso, one of the Ocelot’s science officers. “I’m detecting a ship decloaking to the Merrimack’s starboard.” M’Kaso tapped her controls quickly as T’Chall waited. “Definitely a Klingon ship. Raptor class by the look. No, wait, a Puyjaq Class escort. No registry, but she’s called…”
“Let me guess,” T’Chall said with a sigh. “It’s the Tigris.”
“Makes sense,” F’aat said as the ship was rocked by another volley from the Borg vessel. “S’Returru is suicidal. But why she’d attack us during a Borg attack…”
“She’s not attacking us,” Natt called out. “She’s targeting the Borg cube.”
“Small miracles,” T’Chall said as she focused her attention back to the view screen. “I doubt she’ll attack us after dealing with the cube. Most likely she’ll attempt to steal what debris she can and go to warp as fast as she can. Keep firing on the cube.”
The Ocelot continued her assault on the cube as the Tigris pulled the Merrimack out of range, then turned sharply and began firing on the cube. Not as fast as the Ocelot, she still had some power to her, and her crew was well versed with what they needed to do.
“The Tigris has pulled the Merrimack out of harm’s way,” M’Kaso informed T’Chall. “And she’s making a run at the cube.”
“Match her, helm,” T’Chall called out. “We may currently be on the same side, but when this is done watch out for S’Returru. We never know what she’ll do once the danger is past.”
Together with the Farpoint, the two smaller vessels pounded the Borg cube, it wasn’t long before they managed to overpower it and finally destroy it. But it was costly, as the Tigris took heavy damage.
“The Tigris is dead in the water, Captain,” M’Kaso called out.
“I know exactly what S’Returru was doing,” T’Chall muttered as she looked to F’aat. “This was her way of getting some leverage. Come in and help, speed off and remind us how ‘we owe her one’ at some other point in time.”
“That’s her standard MO,” F’aat replied. “But looks like she won’t be able to use that this time, especially if we help her.” One of the console terminals chirped as the Ocelot received a hail. “Looks like the captain of the Farpoint is hailing us.”
“On screen,” T’Chall announced as she sat back in her chair. Soon, the human captain of the Farpoint was visible. “Not exactly an epic battle, Captain Majors.”
“Better this way,” he replied with a chuckle. “We’ll tow the Merrimack. I take you’ll handle the Klingon vessel.”
“I know who it is,” T’chall said with a nod. “She’ll need some help getting underway again, so we can offer that to her at the very least.” T’Chall paused before giving F’aat a look. “Do we have anyone in engineering that isn’t Caitian? Would most likely make it easier.”
“Well, it seems as though you’ve got things handled here, Captain,” Majors replied. “See you back at space dock. Majors out.” With that, the screen shifted back to the view of deep space, along with the Klingon escort vessel that hung like a wounded bird.
“I suppose we should begin…” F’aat began before she was cut off by another chirp from a console.
“Another vessel, Captain,” M’Kaso reported. “Bearing 2-1-3 Mark 6. Can’t identify it, Sir. I’ve never seen anything like it before. But, she definitely has a…”