The enemy of my enemy

All comers can join a fight, and often, the enemy of one is the enemy of all.

“What the hell is going on here?” asked Commander McKenzie, the ship’s Chief Medical Officer as he marched onto the bridge and saw the body of his captain lying in stasis with the Borg constructs still attached to his temples.

“We’re not sure; this Borg tricked his way onto the bridge and then attacked the Captain.” Harper explained quickly, waving the doctor over with one arm while pointing at the captain with the other. “Can you see the connections?” she asked. The doctor nodded in silence, trying to see how they were connected.

“What the hell are those things?” He asked, motioning towards the snake-like protuberances that were radiating from the tubes like miniature sun coronas.

“That’s what we were hoping you could tell us.” Harper told him. McKenzie pulled out his tricorder and took some readings, kneeling down beside his stricken Captain. Everything seemed okay, but the Captain was simply asleep. His vitals were normal, relaxed and calm. His breathing regular; his heart beating strongly. There was unusually high cerebral activity, and he seemed to be dreaming. Normally he would say to just let sleeping dogs lie, but right now there were more pressing issues to attend to, like the injured crew members in his sick bay that were queuing up down the corridors. Quite frankly he had no idea what to do. He was at a loss as to how to deal with the darn thing.

“What about the force fields these guys use?” He asked, looking intently at Harper.

“Still intact I’m afraid. We weren’t sure how to handle it at the moment.” She responded, a worried look in her eyes. “What do you suggest?”

“Well,” He rose to his feet and closed his tricorder. “I would suggest you call an engineer to deal with the damned force field before you call a doctor to treat the wounded!” He stared at her then, amazed she hadn't thought of that before.

“I would have, but you already know the Chief is DEAD!” She spat back at him, her expression one of anger now.

“Well then,” McKenzie sighed, backing down in the face of adversity, “I am at a loss. There’s nothing we can do except wait and see what’s gonna happen next.”

“Aren’t you even gonna TRY?” Harper was incredulous.

“Try what? All my treatments require actually TOUCHING the patient in some way or another!” He motioned to the sleeping Captain, “Which, I might hasten to add, is damn well impossible at the moment!” Harpers’ face fell into dismay for a brief second, and then she took control of her emotions once more, dismissing the doctor as quickly as she had called him.

As McKenzie turned to leave, Ensign Beatty rushed over and snatched the Tricorder from him, turning it on the Borg.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? That’s a medical tricorder, not a toy!” McKenzie protested, watching in horror as the youth scanned the force field rapidly.

“Wait a minute;” Beatty told him. “I remember reading somewhere that if you tune the frequency of a phaser into the same frequency as the shield, then you can by-pass the defences.” Grabbing a phaser from one of the security men, he quickly re-tuned it and then fired at the body of his brother, the blast separating them quickly.

“Nobody touch him!” Rex shouted as two of the security men ran forward to take the Borg prisoner. Everybody stared at him, watching as he righted himself, and then stood woozily on his feet. Holding onto the bar that ran around the bridge, he stepped over to the control panel to make himself more steady and then tapped his combadge. “All hands cease fire. I repeat; all hands cease fire!” He ordered, his voice echoing across the ship.

“What? They’re trying to take over the ship!” Harper stared at him in disbelief as he watched her and swayed slightly.

He shook his head, wishing he hadn’t done so almost immediately. “No.” He said simply. “They’ve come to help us.” He motioned to the Borg lying on the floor. “He took me to the unimatrix in my mind, and told me everything.”

“The �" what?” asked the doctor, confused. “And �" where?”

“The unimatrix, it’s a place where the Borg can gather without the interference of the collective. They can only get there by regenerating. It’s the only freedom they have under the collective. And this cube is full of the rebels that use the unimatrix.” Rex explained.

“Why would they want to help us?” Asked Harper, just as bemused as the doctor. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Because,” explained Rex, another wave of nausea washing over him. “They want to prevent an attack on Earth itself. The Borg are going to attack Earth!”