SINGULARITY  07 
By HECK



Comments to heck@heckster.co.uk

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE ATMOSPHERE IN Ten Forward was tense but subdued. Crew and civilians
occupied every seat and available floor space, many sitting on the bar itself,
nearly a thousand bodies packed into a space that could comfortably
accommodate a maximum of two hundred. Some sat with hands in head, others
gazing forlornly out the windows into the fastness of deep space. People
avoided talking about it, but the dread of assimilation was almost palpable.

Guinan, the Elaurian barkeep, moved serenely among them, dropping a kind word
here, a morsel of comfort there. Her gentle manner and reassuring smile did
much to alleviate the tension.

"Hey, Guinan". Beverley Crusher was sitting on the edge of one of the raised
seating areas, her arm round a young ensign who was quietly sobbing her fear
into a handkerchief..

"Beverley. Hi. Holding up?"

"Just about. Will you be all right for a minute, dear? I just want to talk to
Guinan". She extricated herself from the ensign, who nodded with a timorous
smile. "Walk with me, Guinan?"

"Sure. Come around behind the bar. I think there's still some space".

Despite the crush, the crew regarded Guinan's domain behind the bar as
sacrosanct. The two women squeezed between the despondent throng, finding a
quiet place among the bottles where they could talk. Guinan poured a couple of
glasses of real Chardonnay.

"We could probably use these, right about now. What's on your mind?"

"Thanks". The Doctor took a welcome sip of the crisp, clear wine. "Mm, good.
What do you think has happened to Jean-Luc and the others? Have they been
assimilated, or...?"

Guinan shrugged, her dark face unreadable. "If Data was with them, and they
were on the bridge when the gas hit, I suppose he would have sealed the
bridge. My guess is they're still there, and if I know Picard, he'll have them
examining every possibility. If there's a way out of this, you can bet he'll
find it".

"I'm sure you're right. We've met the Borg before, and we've always beaten
them. But they've never completely taken over the ship before. I'm worried".

"I don't know what to tell you". If Guinan felt any fear, it did not show in
her calm voice. "All I can say is this. When the Borg assimilated my people,
they did it ruthlessly, quickly, and efficiently. This bunch seem to be taking
their time, and only taking people selectively, mainly engineering and science
staff. They're in a bad way, I think. Also, if everything was normal I'd have
expected another cube to have turned up by now, so they're probably cut off
from the collective. That's all in our favour".

Beverley shook her head gently and gave a small smile. "I swear, Guinan. You
could find a silver lining in a hurricane."

Guinan patted her friend on the hand. "It's my job. Now what?"

A disturbance attracted her attention. The doors had swished open. Half a
dozen drones were rounding up another contingent, herding them roughly out.
Beverley noticed with a start that one of the drones had been a Bolian
lieutenant of her acquaintance. She made as if to go to their aid, but found
herself restrained by Guinan's surprisingly strong hand.

"You can't help. Leave it to Picard".

*************************************

Although he would not admit it or show any indecision in front of the crew,
Picard had to confess to himself that he had no clue as to what to do next.
They had a route off the bridge, thanks to the intervention of the remarkable
woman, Brenhya, a visitor from another reality, but it was the course of
action thereafter that was giving him difficulty.

Any action was better than none, though, if only for the sake of morale.
"Number One, will you organise the evacuation of the bridge?"

"Sir". Riker was all business. "Mr Data, you are the strongest. Will you boost
us up to the hole?"

Brenhya raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Looking at Data's slim build, she
doubted Riker's assessment, but was unaware that the golden-eyed lieutenant
was an android, and wouldn't have recognised the word in any case. She did not
know of his superhuman mechanical strength.

"That is certainly an option, Sir". Data spoke matter-of-factly. "However, I
would point out that the hole is directly over the command well, at a point
where the ceiling is at its farthest point from the floor. I would have to
literally throw people up there. Whilst I could certainly achieve that, I
would be unable to guarantee avoiding injury if someone's head came into
contact with the edge".

"No problem". Brenhya stepped forward to tower over the android. "If you are
the strongest here", she said, throwing a sceptical glance at Worf. The
Klingon's face was unreadable. "You could toss me up there. Then you could
boost people up to me, and I could pull them through".

The sarcasm in her voice washed right across Data with no effect. He
considered for a minute. "That would be an acceptable solution. Very well". He
cupped his hands, forming a stirrup for her foot.

Still disbelieving the First Officer's faith in Data, she placed her hands on
his shoulders and her foot in his hands with a shrug. "Whenever you're ready".

A gasp escaped her as she found herself propelled upwards with more power than
she would have credited to the man. She was boosted high enough so that she
could grasp the edge of the curved plate of the Jefferies tube. Her strong
fingers griped the metal, and her muscles flexed as she levered herself back
up into the hole. Wasting no time, she laid on her belly and reached her arm
down. "All right. Who's first?"

"Counsellor?" Picard nodded toward the hole. Deanna positioned herself as
Brenhya had, and Data tossed her upwards. Brenhya's powerful hand caught hold
of her wrist and she heaved the smaller woman into the tube with little
effort.

Worf followed, then Geordi LaForge. Both offered to assist Brenhya, but she
declined, indicating that they should make their way deeper into the tube,
making room for her to work more effectively.

The first aid treatment Deanna had given to her abused hands proved to have
been very effective. There were fourteen staff officers on the bridge, and her
hands gave no trouble throughout the evacuation. In less than twenty minutes,
she had nearly all of them out.

Riker was one of the last to leave. His bearded face showed his surprise at
the strength he felt in the fingers that grabbed his wrist and heaved him out.
Picard was second to last, and then it was the turn of Data himself. He coiled
his legs under him, and soared upward to take her hand.

She grunted as his weight settled on her arm. He was much heavier than he
looked; heavier, in fact, than both Riker and Worf, the two largest men.

Not more weight than he could handle, however. Her bicep grew big and round as
she hauled him up. When he was in reach, he grasped the edge of the tube
himself and helped. Once inside, he sat on the edge and looked at her.

"Thank you for your assistance". His flat voice gave her no clue as to the
sincerity he was trying to express.

"You're welcome". Brenhya was sweating, from the Borg-induced rise in
temperature, and was very slightly out of breath from the effort of lifting
fourteen people, one handed, in rapid succession. Yet she noted that Data was
neither sweating nor out of breath. That, coupled with his pale skin and
golden eyes, prompted her to ask a question. "I've seen some strange looking
folks since I came aboard this ship. You look similar to Picard and Riker, and
me for that matter, but you're not the same, are you?"

Data's head cocked to one side in his characteristic way. "You are correct.
Captain Picard and Commander Riker, and yourself, are humans. I am an
android".

"I see". Brenhya was intrigued. "Are you from one of the 'other worlds' that
Worf told me about? I don't know if I fully believe that, yet".

"Your disbelief is understandable. Nevertheless, it remains true. But I am not
from another world. I am an artificial lifeform. I was created by a human,
Doctor Noonian Soong, but I am not human".

"Artificial? How can you be artificial? You look real enough to me".

"I am real, in the strictest sense of the word. But I am not organic. I am a
construct".

Brenhya was looking distinctly puzzled. "I still don't understand".

"Perhaps I shall have an opportunity to explain at a later time". He gestured
down the Jefferies Tube. "But for now, Captain Picard is waiting".

The others were sitting on the floor at a junction when Brenhya and Data
caught up. Picard and Riker were deep in hushed conversation, and the rest
were silent. There was an air of tension, but Brenhya sensed no fear among
them. Deanna smiled up at her as she joined them, and gripped her hand as she
sat down. Brenhya read the unspoken thanks in the gesture, and returned the
smile.

"We have something of a plan", Picard announced. "Number One, will you brief
everyone?"

Riker shifted forward, the better to address the company. "Our aim is to
retake engineering and so take back the ship. We'll get as close as we can
through the Jefferies Tubes. Then we'll split up into two groups. Five of us
will guard the corridor and fend off any Borg that come to assist. Mr Data,
you will head up that group. The rest of us will storm engineering and take
control. Then we'll figure out a way to get the crew out of Ten Forward.
Remember that the Borg have personal shields that will soon adapt to our
phaser fire. That's why they're set to rotating frequencies. But that won't
last long, so set your phasers to the highest setting, and make every shot
count. It's not much of a plan, but it's all we've got. All clear?" There was
chorus of nods.

"There are some of you", Picard put in, speaking specifically to the younger
officers. "There are some of you who have never encountered the Borg before.
You should be aware that there are likely to be some of your crewmates that
have been assimilated already. You may find yourself in battle with your
friends and colleagues. You must try to get past that, and do not hesitate to
fire. Believe me, you'll be doing them a favour". Solemn nods greeted his
words.

"What can I do?"

"Excuse me, Sirs"

Brenhya and Worf spoke together. Picard held up a 'wait' hand to Brenhya. "Go
ahead, Lieutenant".

"Sir, it seems to me that if the Borg are likely to adapt to our weapons
before we can overpower them, we will become involved in hand to hand
fighting. I have an ...extensive collection of bladed weapons in my quarters
which may be of use. I suggest that I go and fetch them".

Picard looked at Riker, who nodded. The Captain nodded in turn. "Agreed. But
you should not go alone". He turned to the warrior woman. "And that answers
your question. Will you go with Mr Worf and help him? I imagine you would be
more comfortable with a blade than a phaser anyway".

"You got that right". Brenhya moved to Worf's side. "I wouldn't know how to
phase somebody in the first place. A blade will be fine".

Picard got to his feet. "It should take us about half an hour to reach
engineering. When we get there, we will wait fifteen minutes for you to join
us. Does everyone know what to do? Very well. Make it so".

***********************************

Sweat ran down her back in rivulets. Strands of her chestnut hair were
plastered to her face and the soft leather of her brief garments turned black
with moisture. Poor Worf, she thought, looking at the broad back ahead of her.
In that uniform, he must be boiling. She wiped the sweat from her high
forehead with the back of her hand, and spoke in hushed tones. "Much further?"

Worf stopped and looked back at her. "No. We are on Deck Eight, where my
quarters are. The access hatch is just up here on the right".

Within a few seconds, they reached the hatch. Worf knelt down and opened it
just a crack, applying his eye to the opening. After a brief glimpse, he
closed it silently.

"There is one drone, working on the comms panel about three yards away.
Otherwise, the corridor is clear".

"OK. I'll take care of him".

Worf was about to protest, but thought better of it. Of all the people aboard,
he knew best what she could do, after all. He moved aside without a sound.

Brenhya crouched by the hatch and opened it soundlessly. She fixed the
position of the drone. He was working with concentration on a shiny black
panel on the wall, decorated with lit squares and circles the purpose of which
Brenhya could only guess, and seemed oblivious of his surroundings. She
silently swung the hatch open.

The drone never knew what had hit him. Brenhya exploded out of the hatch like
a shot from a cannon, covering the short distance in a single bound. Her hand
grasped his shoulder and spun him round, while the heel of her other hand
drove upwards under his nose, smashing the nasal septum and driving the sharp
bone up into his brain.

The force of the blow lifted him clean off his feet and slammed the back of
his head into the panel. It smashed through the glossy material in a shower of
crackling, spitting sparks. The electrical charge sent a wave of convulsions
through his body.

This was immaterial to the drone, as he had died instantly when his brain was
destroyed by Brenhya's initial blow. But she had hoped to accomplish the kill
in silence, and crouched to meet any attack attracted by the noise. None came,
and she turned to Worf and shrugged as he emerged from the hatch.

"That was a glorious kill", he said approvingly, his eyes alight with
adrenalin.

"Too noisy", Brenhya said, self-deprecatingly. "Could have brought
reinforcements. I didn't need to hit him so hard, but I wanted to be sure".

"Do not be concerned. It was most efficient. My quarters are just here". Worf
approached his door and placed his hand on the security panel. Nothing
happened. He grunted in frustration. "Ach! They have disabled the security
protocols".

Brenhya spat on her hands and rubbed them together. She insinuated herself
between Worf and the door. "Keep watch".

She laid a moistened palm against the door and another on the frame. She
spread her feet and braced herself, before pouring her power against the
mechanism. The servos holding the portal shut groaned in protest.

Worf tried hard to concentrate on keeping watch for the Borg, but found the
vision of Brenhya's muscles, bunching and coiling under the smooth skin of her
arms, shoulders, and back, to be very distracting. The splendid woman was
putting on a show of immense strength for, he liked to think, his benefit, and
despite the urgency of the situation, he found himself becoming aroused.

Three minutes of sustained effort on her part, and Brenhya was successful. The
technology gave up the unequal struggle against her might, and the door slid
back. Unfortunately, under the degree of stress she put upon it, it came off
its runners and jammed half open, leaning at a drunken angle. With a quick
smile to the Klingon, Brenhya slipped through. Worf followed right behind.

"It is your turn to keep watch", the Lieutenant said. With a brief nod, the
warrior stationed herself beside the door, whilst Worf raided his drawers and
cupboards.

In a short period of time, Worf had assembled an impressive array of weaponry
on the divan bed. Several types of blade, from diverse cultures throughout the
quadrant including, among others, two Klingon bat'lethu and four d'k tahg, a
wicked looking short trident from Arcturus, a serrated blade from Romulus, and
a multi-tined shzachtal from the Denebius system. He called to Brenhya.
"Choose yourself a weapon. I regret that I do not have a broadsword".

Brenhya was very experienced in assessing weaponry. She hefted each blade in
turn, checking balance and keenness. She held up a finely crafted d'k tahg. To
her eyes, it was a somewhat cumbersome dagger, identified by the etching on
the haft as Klingon in origin. She looked a question at Worf.

"It is a Klingon d'k tahg. A personal weapon, used mostly for ceremonial
purposes these days". He took it from her. "Nevertheless, it is an effective
weapon. Once you have impaled your enemy ..." He pressed a hidden button. The
two short, secondary blades shot out at the sides, forming a nasty, three
pointed gutting tool. .

Brenhya nodded her approval. "Nice". She tucked it into her belt. "But I want
something I can slash with. I've already tried a bat'leth. That'll do nicely".

Worf wrapped up the remaining weapons in a blanket, keeping a bat'leth and d'k
tahg for himself. "One of us should remain unencumbered, to deal with any
stray drones we come across. As I have a phaser, and more expertise with the
bat'leth, you should carry the weapons". He felt no hesitation in making the
request, knowing that she was more than equal to the task and would not expect
him to give her special consideration, neither as a guest nor as a woman.

Smiling broadly, she shouldered the heavy bundle with ease. She could feel the
anticipation of imminent action coursing through her veins, and held her head
high, tossing her hair over the opposite shoulder. Worf thought he had never
seen a more magnificent specimen of womanhood.

"Let us go", he said, feeling a similar anticipation himself.

"Lead on".