by Sara
Prologue
Dark and silent...they required little light with their enhanced vision; conversation was not necessary for beings such as they. Hot and humid...the temperature and humidity suited their bloodless, pale bodies. Powerful and purposeful...their ship struck fear in beings in every quadrant of the galaxy. Their unwavering devotion to their purpose was unlike any other. The massive ship moved through the quadrant, its denizens ambivalent to these and all its myriad of characteristics. These were nearly perfect examples of their kind; nearly perfect in their single-minded search for perfection. Soon they would be perfect...
The Queen listened to Vessel 7462 trying one last time to determine if they were already infected, changing drones already susceptible to the danger of unimatrix zero would undermine her purpose. She must have drones that were incorruptible, and uncorrupted...
...Chemical compound in grid Alpha-Gamma 27 identified as non-reactive...
...Course correction: alter heading negative .04 degrees...Implemented...
...Internal vessel temperature lowered 1 degree...
...unimatrix 47 initiating regeneration...
...determined species 9763 inferior technology, undesirable, assimilation futile...
...stellar body 8847 containing two occupied planets, vessel 3095 to investigate and examine potential for assimilation...
...oxygen, nitrogen levels remain at optimal levels...
...incoming message from unimatrix 1...standby...
She filtered out the random thoughts of the rest of the Collective and directed her thoughts to this chosen unit. "Borg vessel 7462 you will now enter regeneration. Alteration of neural transceivers is required. Comply."
"Acknowledged. Entering regeneration..." There were long moments of silence untroubled by anticipation or trepidation; they simply waited until all were ready to report. "New neural pathways established."
She was somewhat unprepared for the demands of their new connection and she felt her body slump as she adjusted to the new connection. The Queen smiled around her pain; smiling was irrelevant to her drones, but she still gained much satisfaction from the gesture. She watched from her command center and issued her commands.
"Proceed to specified coordinates and wait for further instructions."
"Acknowledged."
She grimaced once more as the completion of the new pathways brought the full brunt of this new Collective onto her shoulders; the strain would lessen and it was of no importance. She listened to vessel 7462 as it adjusted to her new communication and her smile grew more chilling. It was good to once again know she was in complete control. These drones would serve their purpose well. With no chance of becoming individuals these drones would rid her of the Janeway annoyance for eternity. She would add that biological and psychological distinctiveness to her own. And, the pain was of no importance.
Act 1
Ship's Time [10:00 p.m.]
Captain's Log
Stardate: 544145.5
"We continue to travel at red alert. Data is still inconclusive, but I remain convinced that the ghosts our sensors are detecting are in fact Borg cubes. While the signatures cannot be confirmed as matching Borg signatures, there's something that tells me our old friends are back. Our last encounter came yesterday at 1550 hours and as before, the ship at the edge of our range disappeared when we altered course. The crew remains vigilant, they are concerned but at this point still willing to hope for the best."
[10:02 p.m.]
Harry studied the Kal-Toh trying to see the move before Tuvok made it. They were virtually alone in the Mess Hall at this late hour, but a day spent watching for more signs of what could be Borg had taken their toll on his concentration. When the Vulcan reached out to make a subtle change to the lower left quadrant he sighed in frustration. "I didn't see that at all."
"The answer, Ensign, often lies in that which is not directly visible."
Harry nodded as he concentrated on his next move. "Kind of like those sensor shadows we continue to find. If the captain is right and the Borg are out there at the edge of sensor range, I wish they would do something. All this tension is getting to me."
"To wish for the Borg to initiate an offensive is illogical."
Harry nodded as he touched the game sphere, it changed shape but did not settle into a final position. Harry leaned back in his chair. "I recognize its defiance of logic, Tuvok, but as a species humans are not exactly patient." He smiled self-deprecatingly as he continued, "And I've been told I'm a pretty fair specimen of the species, so I'm no exception. I would rather face whatever the Queen and her drones can throw at us than continue to hide. Even that is better than this continuing red alert fear."
"Fear at this juncture would be an inappropriate and illogical distraction from your duties."
"At this juncture? Tuvok, we've had six separate course changes in the last five days all due to cubes registering on our sensors. It can't be a computer error. They are out there, following us. How can you stand to sit there with the whole ship on red alert and pretend that nothing is wrong?"
"We cannot confirm the sensor readings." Tuvok responded laying a finger atop their imperfect sphere. "Logic would dictate that we continue with caution, but further speculation is at this point premature."
"I would think that you, of all people would recognize the need to protect ourselves from what they can do. Our last experience wasn't exactly a walk in the park for you or your team."
Tuvok looked across the game as it shimmered and changed shape, its sparkle casting momentary shadows across the Vulcan's dark face. For a nanosecond Harry thought he detected fear or perhaps anger in those brown eyes but then it was gone. He marveled at the level of control Tuvok must have over emotions that lived beneath the surface.
Tuvok leaned back and steepled his fingers, centering himself. "As Security Chief it is my duty to fully recognize all dangers to this vessel and her crew. Believe me Ensign, I do not take these sensor readings lightly. We will respond quickly and with force should the occasion demand such action. However, I will not allow emotions to cloud our judgment. Until these shadows show themselves we are in no danger and action other than the increased security measures now in place would be detrimental to our productivity."
Harry studied the game again. "I hope you are right, Tuvok. I really do."
[10:05 p.m.]
Chakotay rounded the turn just in time to see her exit her quarters and head for the lift. Grinning, he quickened his pace to catch up before she eluded him. As he neared he tried to sound gruff. "Just where do you think you are going?"
Janeway stopped in her tracks, but didn't bother to turn around. "The Bridge, Commander. Not that it should make any difference."
"Uh-huh, I knew it."
"Knew what?" She responded trying not to look guilty as he eyed her as he might an errant child.
"Did you think you could break our dinner engagement and I wouldn't know what was going on?"
"Why would anything be going on? Chakotay, I've probably broken our dinner engagement at least a hundred times in the last seven years. Why would you think something was going on?"
"Because one hundred broken dinner dates means one hundred times you've been up to something. Kathryn, you cancel dinner when you don't want me asking questions about what you are doing."
Janeway smiled in spite of herself. "Shouldn't you be spending this unexpected free time doing something constructive? Cleaning the carpets, perhaps?"
"I'm saving that for something special. Come on, Kathryn tell me. I already know anyway."
"Ok, ok. So, I'm going back to the Bridge to check for more sensor data. Now you know."
Chakotay nodded and let a little seriousness slip into his voice. "You can't control everything, you know. If they are out there they'll make their move in their time. Spending sleepless nights on duty won't bring it any sooner."
"Maybe. But, I have a hunch, Chakotay. We dealt the Queen a hard blow when we uncovered Unimatrix Zero, she isn't going to let it go unpunished. They are out there, and she's up to something. The sensors may not be able to verify a cube, but my instincts can. And I'm going to be ready for it, no matter where it is. It's coming soon. I can feel it."
"Maybe, but if you look too hard, you may miss it coming."
"That's your job, to keep me from losing my way."
Chakotay acknowledged the compliment with a small grin and an almost bashful nod. The lift opened and together they stepped into the compartment. Kathryn stole a sidelong glance at her exec. "And, where do you think you are going?" she asked, echoing his words to lighten the mood.
Chakotay smiled, "The Bridge, Captain. Not that it should make any difference. If you're right, I want to be there." The lift doors began to close and his grin turned wicked. "And, if you're wrong, I'll make sure you get that sleep."
[10:10 p.m.]
Seven entered Astrometrics to find Icheb exactly were she had left him several hours earlier; 3.47 hours to be exact she reminded herself. "Icheb, your duty shift ended 2.16 hours ago. Why are you still at your station? Where is the Gamma shift officer?"
The boy did not look up from his work, "I told her I would take the shift. I was working on this and didn't want to stop."
Seven frowned. "Working on what? Your assignment is to monitor our boosted sensors for signs of Borg activity."
"I am monitoring. But, if I can increase our sensitivity again I might find them."
Seven took hold of Icheb's arm and turned the boy to look at her. "I am detecting elevated signs of anxiety. What exactly is the nature of your unease?"
Icheb glanced away, unsure that he should or could confide his apprehension to Seven. His surrogate sister simply waited; she had after all, inexhaustible patience.
When Icheb began to speak she released his arm. "I don't know that I have any real reason to feel this way. It may be my mind is playing tricks on me, Naomi called it my imagination."
"Naomi is an expert on imagination." Seven acknowledged. "But, what is it that you may be imagining?"
"I might be hearing the Collective."
"Your statement is illogical. Either you can hear them or you cannot. Furthermore, with no main cortical node, you should be unable to detect the Collective. I have detected no communication with the Collective even while regenerating. Please elaborate on your confusion."
Icheb shrugged, a gesture he had picked up early in his interaction with humans. "It is similar to the sensation I have experienced at large social gatherings with the crew. For example, when Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim held their pool tournament in Sandrines I was encouraged to attend. I remember being struck by the large number of crew present for the evening’s festivities. As I neared the holodeck I could detect those already gathered even before the doors opened."
Seven nodded. "You could hear them while you were in the corridor."
"Yes. And while voices and conversation were not distinguishable, I could clearly identify the 'buzz' of their communication."
"And you think you are experiencing something similar with regard to the Collective?"
Icheb shrugged again. "Perhaps. It is not as distinct as my example. I hear nothing as I sleep and last night I had a regeneration sequence in which I detected no communication. Your past experience indicates an increased likelihood of contact while regenerating Since I did not experience a contact last night it would seem less probable that I am hearing the Collective. However, I have experienced the sensation twice and each corresponded with a sensor image. Each instance ended when the captain ordered our course correction away from the ghosts. Both instances lasted no more than 2.3 seconds."
"But when they occurred, you were sure it was the Collective?"
"It sounded as such, but perhaps it is only my imagination."
"This would not be the appropriate time to develop an imagination."
The sound of a sensor warning interrupted the conversation and brought both former Borg to the terminal. Seven scanned the data quickly and touched her communicator. "Seven of Nine to the Bridge."
The Captain's voice responded and Icheb took comfort in knowing that he was not the only person working late. "Go ahead, Seven."
"Sensors are picking up another vessel. Bearing zero, three. Mark 2."
"Are they still shadowing our course?"
"Affirmative. The reading continues to be inconclusive but there is a 43% probability that it is indeed a cube and not a sensor anomaly."
"We're going to adjust course again, Seven. Let me know if our readings intensify."
"Acknowledged."
Seven looked to the boy at her side. "Icheb you should monitor our signal output to insure maximum efficiency during our maneuver, I will..." she stopped talking as she realized he was not listening. After a moment he seemed to shake off his stupor and looked toward his mentor.
"That was not my imagination, Seven. I hear the Collective."
"Is it the same as previous encounters?"
The boy shook his head, "No, it is more distinct, but still unclear. I can hear them, but not their voices. What am I to do if they initiate contact? If I am drawn into the Collective I pose a danger to this ship and crew. Seven, why can't you hear them?"
Seven was detecting another increase in his bio-signs. "You must remain focused on the task at hand. The likelihood that they will attempt to draw you into the Collective is remote. Focus on your assignment and monitor your data."
Icheb nodded and turned taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. Seven watched him as she also turned to her terminal, hoping that she was not making too light of Icheb's obvious fear. Perhaps she should send him to the doctor, she told herself.
The course change prevented her from suggesting just that. "Interesting." She noted only half to herself.
Icheb's voice was tinged with concern as he also noted the Captain's change in tactics. "She changed course to move closer to the cube. The last three times she has moved away from the readings."
"Yes. Apparently, she is tired of playing 'cat and mouse'."
"Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway."
"Go ahead, Seven."
"Captain, the vessel is not retreating and sensor readings are increasing. There is no doubt now. The vessel at our extreme sensor range is a Borg cube."
"Acknowledged, stand by."
Icheb looked at Seven and she was startled to see a level of emotion in him that she was as yet unable to obtain. "Seven, my ability to hear them is increasing as we move closer." A startled gasp escaped him as he cocked his head to listen to voices only he could hear. "Icheb to Captain Janeway!" He shouted slamming his hand against the communicator on his chest. "Alter course, it's a trap!"
Act 2
[10:15 p.m.]
Icheb's split second of warning launched both Janeway and Chakotay into action even as the cube accelerated toward them, tractor at the ready.
"Captain, they're right on top of us." Shouted the startled con officer.
"Evasive maneuvers, pattern Janeway Omega 6." The captain ordered.
Chakotay's response followed on the heels of her orders. "Arm all weapons. Set phasers to pattern Tuvok-random alpha."
"Target their weapons." Janeway added.
Voyager shook violently as the Borg fired a direct hit into the port nacelle. Janeway struggled to keep her balance and remain in her seat. "So much for that sleep." She told herself as she clung to the armrest. "Return fire!" she called to her tactical officer.
"Shields at Seventy percent." came the ops report.
"Captain, I can't shake them." Crewman Morris reported from the helm.
Janeway sighed, cross-training Morris at the helm was one of Tuvok's better ideas, just not during a Borg attack.
Voyager's First Officer rose and made his way across the deck to help the inexperienced pilot. He nearly tumbled to the floor when another blast from Borg weaponry shook the ship. "Are they trying to shake us to pieces, or blow us up?" he growled.
Reaching the helm he gave Morris a reassuring pat on the shoulder and took a look at the terminal. They didn't have many options. The cube was literally on top of them and closing fast. Morris was pushing Voyager to its limit. But, he was doing a better job than he had indicated.
"Engineering, all auxiliary power to helm." Chakotay ordered.
Janeway glanced over her shoulder as both Tuvok and Kim exited the turbolift and took their stations. "Tuvok, we need a few seconds. See if you can't damage their weapons enough to buy us one or two."
"Acknowledged." answered the Vulcan as he took his station.
"Shields at fifty percent" Harry reported. An explosion from the console behind him pelted the back of Harry's neck with debris. The lights flickered, but returned and Harry quickly ran a check on internal systems.
Tuvok made some small adjustments to the phaser setting Chakotay had ordered and began attacking the cube in a pattern he had been waiting to test.
"It's working, Tuvok. They're loosing power to the grids you're targeting." Harry reported. "They're going to have to shift to a secondary weapons array."
Voyager continued to shake as the Borg returned fire, peppering them at every opportunity. Tuvok's new rotating frequencies were doing the trick and so far, the Borg appeared unable to adapt as readily as in the past.
"Who the hell is driving?" Paris asked almost before he exited the lift.
"No critiquing. Just get over here." Chakotay answered.
Voyager shook again and Harry grimly announced the result. "Shields at twenty-six percent."
Tom had sprinted across the deck and slid to a halt at the First Officer's elbow. "Sorry, sir. I was monitoring. I may have an ace for us."
"I'd settle for three of a kind." Chakotay answered fighting to remain on his feet. "You ready?"
Paris relieved Morris, who looked ever so grateful to be out of the hot seat. Paris on the other hand, looked eager to be there.
"Cube switching to secondary weapons array." Tuvok reported calmly.
"Shields are failing." Harry offered without disguising his trepidation. "They are activating their tractor beam."
"Hold on." Paris announced. He took Voyager into a roll guaranteed to keep them safe from a tractor lock, if they survived. Coming out of the roll he accelerated and without waiting for orders, set course for his selected destination.
"Mr. Tuvok, do you have an option for us?" Janeway asked looking up from the data on her terminal.
"A nebula bearing 03 mark 1. It contains ample concentrations of alpha-lethianone."
"Go ahead, Tom. Let's see if we can't shake them loose while they can't see us."
[10:22 p.m.]
Engineering was in shambles as Voyager made its run away from the cube. The possibility of a new hull breech was foremost on her list of priorities as Torres worked to control the damage the Borg were inflicting. She looked up from her task at station 12 as the drones materialized at substation 17. "Kahless." she breathed as the automatons began to move about their assignments. "No! Stay back, don't initiate hostility." she ordered as two of her crewmen moved to attack the intruders.
Acting quickly she moved to her own station, praying that her legs were faster than the drone moving toward her computers. "Computer, initiate departmental lock-down. Authorization Torres Twenty-two Sigma. Route all Engineering functions to the Bridge."
"Acknowledged. Transfer complete."
B'Elanna glanced over her shoulder as the drones began attaching themselves to the ship's hardware. "Engineering to Bridge. Intruder alert."
"B'Elanna"? Janeway responded.
"Captain, I've got at least twenty drones down here and a skeleton crew."
"Evacuate, Lieutenant."
B'Elanna nodded even though she knew the Captain couldn't see her. "You heard her, people. Fall back, now!" She waited until the last of her crew moved behind her before turning to the door. Her last glimpse of engineering showed her two drones, injectors at the ready, approaching her station.
[10:23 p.m.]
"Status on the cubes?" Janeway asked knowing she could not save her crewmen below unless they were able to avoid the drones themselves.
Paris glanced at his data, "In pursuit. Although Tuvok must have hit them harder than we thought. I should beat them to the nebula."
"Captain, I'm reading 30 drones in Engineering," reported Harry.
"Crew status?"
"They're all out. B'Elanna managed to reroute Engine control to the Bridge and initiate the new lockdown sequence. The Borg are connected to the computer and are trying to work around the new protocols."
"Tuvok."
The Vulcan was already moving toward the lift issuing orders to security as he went. Janeway watched him and hoped that the preparations he had encouraged would be enough. "Keep me informed, Commander."
Tuvok met her gaze as the lift began to close. "Acknowledged."
Act 3
[10:22 p.m.]
"Bring him over here, quickly." The doctor called as Seven and Icheb entered sickbay. "Is he conscious?"
"I am conscious, doctor." Icheb stated through clenched teeth. "They are unconcerned with my presence in the Collective at this time. However, I am unable to extricate myself."
The Doctor was running a neural scanner as he listened. "The activity in his remaining transceivers is increasing at an incredible rate. I don't understand. They aren't even supposed to function!"
"Can you determine the cause of this communication?" Seven asked with concern.
The Doc shook his head. "We removed Icheb's main cortical implant to replace your own. His ability to communicate with the Collective should be diminished." He turned his concerned eyes on Seven. "You aren't receiving anything from them?"
Seven shook her head. "I do not understand that either, Doctor. Perhaps Icheb's missing transceiver is the key."
The Doctor nodded. "Perhaps. My first concern is to determine what I can do to eliminate this new connection."
"No!"
The hologram gave a startled look to his patient. "You do not wish to be severed from the Collective?"
Icheb drew a deep breath and squared his thin shoulders. "I can hear them clearly, now. There is something, unusual in their interaction, something I don't understand. I will not jeopardize this crew's ability to gain information simply for relief from my own discomfort."
He seemed to dismiss the Doctor and turned his attention to Seven. "I believe we should contact the Captain. There is something about these drones that we must discover, something that makes them different, and more dangerous."
Seven took only a second to consider the comment. "Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway."
"Go ahead, Seven."
"Captain, Icheb is in contact with the drones on board."
"I'll be right there."
[10:25 p.m.]
B'Elanna was waiting at the deck 11 weapons locker when Tuvok arrived. "I issued phaser-rifles and two hand units to everyone here" she said by way of greeting.
Tuvok nodded in acknowledgement. "How many engineers are available for your mission?"
"For what we're doing I only need myself and Gilmore, she's been helping me write the code. I just wish I had implemented this last stage when you asked . We wouldn't have to be going in there if I had. I could do this all from the Bridge."
Tuvok shook his head. "Do not second guess your decisions Lieutenant, your priorities were logical." He scanned the approaching security detail headed by Ayala. "Very well, we must begin quickly. We will conduct a frontal assault through the main entry. Lieutenant Ayala, your team will take the left. Team Beta will enter through the auxiliary entrance under the leadership of Ensign Dalby. Team Gamma will enter from the Deck 10 main entry."
Ayala nodded and took his security team to the main engineering doors. Tuvok signaled B'Elanna and her engineer and they took positions opposite Ayala's team.
B'Elanna touched Tuvok's arm, "They are rerouting their approach to engine control. We have about ten minutes before they come up with a solution. But, if you can get me in there, and keep them off my back I can buy us more time."
"Understood."
Tuvok gave the word and Ayala forced the door. Together the Vulcan and his second charged through and into a meeting with hell.
[10:28 p.m.]
Tom gave a small sigh of relief as he took the ship into the nebula. "Made it this far ..." he told himself .
"They aren't that far behind. Can you get us deep enough into the nebula to conceal our signature?" asked the Commander as he studied tactical data on the captain's terminal.
"Affirmative, within twenty kilometers alpha-lethianone renders sensors completely non-functional."
"Phaser fire in Engineering." Harry informed them trying not to sound as if he was revealing impending deaths.
Tom suddenly turned white as an unanticipated thought occurred to him. "Harry," he nearly squeaked, "where's B'Elanna?"
He knew the answer before the Ops Chief looked up from his station.
"She went in with Tuvok, didn't she." It wasn't a question.
Harry nodded.
Tom made an obvious effort to bring his mind back to the job at hand.
Chakotay looked over his shoulder, "Harry, keep a fix on them. Let us know what is happening."
"Aye, Sir."
[10:28 p.m.]
Tuvok was pleased to see that they had managed to catch the drones slightly off guard. Apparently, their effort to reroute control around the security lockdown was claiming the majority of their attention. Logic dictated this to be an advantage against beings that needed minimal time for adaptation.
The fact that the drones had not gained control of the engines was B'Elanna's first observation. "They haven't broken it yet, Tuvok." she called as the team opened fire on the drones.
The drones turned in response to the crew's entrance. The new phaser settings seemed to be working and a handful fell quickly under the phaser fire.
Taking the kind of chance only a Klingon would deem acceptable, B'Elanna stood behind a data terminal and ignoring the drones, focused on the status of her engines. "They're still at the third level. Damn it! They have gained ventilation control, I can't flood the deck with anything we could use as a weapon. At their current rate of computation we have about seven minutes before they crack your code. I need Gilmore she'll do more helping me than holding a phaser."
"Acknowledged." shouted Tuvok as he fired his rifle at the nearest drone. "Thompson, Chell and Mulcahey, provide cover for Lieutenant Torres and crewman Gilmore."
He moved forward and the rest of his and Ayala's team followed. Tuvok noted that the Borg were rapidly adapting to their weapon settings, despite the random cycling of frequencies. Soon they would no longer be effective.
The second front halted the advance a good number of the drones as Dalby moved forward. "Over here, you monsters!" Dalby shouted, drawing their attention away from the team at the main doors.
Several of the drones turned and moved toward his own team. "Here they come." he called to his crewmen, "let's show them what we're made of."
The rotating settings for their weapons worked just as expected, the first few inflicted damage on the targets, and several drones even fell under the second volley of shots. But, by the time Dalby and his crew were firing for a third time the drones were beginning to adapt, their personal force fields repelling the fatal settings of the phasers.
"Prepare for hand to hand!" Dalby called noting that at least half their shots were now completely ineffective. He tossed his rifle into the air and caught it by the muzzle. It was no longer a deterrent as an energy weapon, but by the gods it was a formidable club. He stepped into the path of the nearest drone, "Let me introduce you to the ancient game of baseball." he said almost casually as he swung the rifle against its head. Almost absently, he wondered how the other teams were faring.
"Commander!" Ayala called ducking the swinging arm of an approaching drone, "they're adapting!" Ayala caught the offending drone's arm and reaching behind his back pulled out his last phaser. The security crewman placed the phaser against the drone's chest and fired once. As it dropped to the deck Ayala grinned at Tuvok. "Can't adapt if I hadn't fired it yet."
The sounds of phaser fire from across the room and above were diminishing. Tuvok stepped in front of crewman Wilkins and smashed his palm against the advancing drone's chin. As it stumbled back the Security Chief launched a series of hand combat blows designed specifically for fighting Borg. Gaining some measure of advantage he reached out and ripped the circulation tubules from the drone's neck. The creature staggered backward and began to twitch as it hit the ground. Tuvok paid it little attention as he moved forward once more to engage the enemy and protect his men.
B'Elanna kept half an eye on her companions as she and Gilmore worked at implementing the advanced security protocols she had devised for this scenario. "And I thought Tuvok was being paranoid" she told Marla.
"Lieutenant," Mulcahey warned. "You should hurry. They've adapted to the weapons settings and we're loosing ground. Tuvok's team is holding their own, but it looks like the others are getting ripped apart."
"We're almost done, hold on. If this works it will buy us another thirty minutes, maybe even an hour."
Chell turned and took a flanking position to the engineer's right. "You have about two seconds, B'E. They're here."
B'Elanna punched the last of her code into the terminal. "Marla, you're already into that last block, you're going to have to finish. Make sure you sweep away the back door, and lock down the self destruct."
She looked up to find all three of her guards grappling with a drone. "Hold its arms." she ordered not waiting to find out if they could pull it off. Stepping into the fray she ripped the central pump from the Borg's chest, stuck her phaser against the rupture in its armor and fired. The drone immediately dropped to the ground.
"All hands, retreat." Tuvok shouted.
B'Elanna looked up to see Tuvok's team surrounded and loosing ground quickly. "You heard him." she added. "Get moving." Ignoring her own advice she moved to Gilmore's side.
Tuvok closed the distance between them and took a position next to the Chief Engineer. Back to back the Klingon and Vulcan held their ground as the rest of the team disappeared through the main Engineering doors and Gilmore sealed off her handiwork. The engineer was oblivious to the danger the retreat was creating for her and her remaining two guards as drones approached unimpeded.
"Marla, Hurry!" B'Elanna grunted as she repelled the first of their attackers. "Tuvok, we have to let her finish. Without that new level of code this whole sortie was a waste."
Gilmore was calling out her successful execution of B'Elanna's instructions when the Borg overwhelmed them. B'Elanna and Tuvok were seized by several sets of arms and tossed aside. The drones did not pause, but used the momentum of their advance to add power to their attack on the engineer still at the workstation. The attack was savage, a physical assault that did not follow any known pattern of Borg behavior.
Rising quickly to his feet, Tuvok pulled the nearest drone away from Gilmore's body as it raised her head for another blow. Superior Vulcan strength and concern for a crewman under his command provided the power to snap the drone's neck even as he lifted it.
B'Elanna launched herself at a second drone striking it with both feet and slamming its head against the bulkhead. Without giving the enemy a second look she tried to ascertain the severity of Gilmore's injuries, it didn't look good. The engineer had several visible contusions and her face was covered in blood lost from a deep wound in her scalp.
"Lieutenant." Tuvok called "we must retreat."
Picking up Gilmore's limp form B'Elanna took one last look around her engine room. Borg technology was beginning to advance across the face of her hardware and more drones than she cared to contemplate were still attached to her terminals. There were bodies strewn about the floor too, some in the crew's black and gold and a satisfying few in armor black. She let Tuvok lead her from the carnage, together they dragged Gilmore toward the doors and the safety of a secured corridor.