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Untitled Next Generation Fanfic Chapter Table
The Borg Queen exists. The Queen is part of every Borg, every Borg computer, and every Borg system. Her breath is the life breath, life support system of every ship and structure. Her blood is the electricity and power that runs through the Borg race. Her eyes are every eye. Her senses are Every Borg sensor on every Borg structure. She is legion, she is everywhere there are Borg and she is nowhere. The only way to destroy her is to destroy all Borg everywhere. All Borg technology would have to be annihilated. Little wonder why she has no compassion and no love or feeling. She is comprised of billions of individuals, millions of races and ethical structures. No one group of beliefs rules her actions. She views them all as rhetoric for the weak. There is no punishment for evil and no reward for good. Her only purpose is to survive. Her one driving ambition is to grow. The Borg way is the best way and all must eventually become Borg. There is no other option. The universe must be saved from itself. Order must be spread throughout the chaos of the universe. In all, her plans are perfect, except. The Federation. Time and time again, these insignificant mites have evaded her. Just when she thought she had them figured out, had their moves and motives reduced to mathematical equations that could be calculated and used to predict their moves, they change. These Federation types are like a virulent virus that changes its technique and adapts. Adapts. Like the Borg, they tend to adapt. But how? This is the question. How can they adapt to things, which they have not yet encountered. They do not have the storehouse of knowledge that the Borg have amassed. They have not assimilated as many cultures yet they adapt. How can this be? They are made primarily of Human and Vulcan races. Can it be that the combination of the two have created something unique? But how? Their technology is inferior. Their bodies are so frail and weak. They think so slowly. How can they survive? The Borg have assimilated million of Humans and almost as many Vulcans yet she has found nothing extraordinary about them. Could it be that their uniqueness is something more than what she originally considered? Preposterous. And yet, random chance seems to always work in their favor. This cannot be by accident to be sure. What has she missed? What part of the equation is missing? If she had emotion, this would surely be an aggravating situation. But as it was, all this did was require more computer power. She chanced to upgrade her CPU usage to this problem as she continued to oversee the general day-to-day operations of the Borg. A solution would be found. It had to be. There was no other option. To every problem, there was a solution. To that, she was wrong. Captain Picard sat musing in his ready room. He was considering the Kobayashi Maru. The no win scenario. The problem to which there was no solution and mused how important it was to know that such situations exist and it would behoove any future Federation officer to accept this fact and learn to deal with it. Picard himself having beat the scenario. Like Kirk, he reprogrammed the scenario so subtly that no one noticed the change. Occam’s Razor states that the simplest answer is usually the best. Simply be invisible. He programmed the simulation to send a single ship to investigate his intrusion into the neutral zone first. He defeated the single ship, appropriated their cloaking device, then proceeded to come to the aid of the Kobayashi Maru, transport the people off the ship and get home unseen. Think outside the envelope. That is the secret to success. Starfleet does not want Captains who follow the rules and take chances. The service wants people who can think outside the boundary and come up with unique solutions. To formulate the unexpected. To rewrite the book. Time had been slow. Mostly mapping missions and small skirmishes among outlying worlds. Nothing major or galaxy shattering. The Romulans had been extremely quiet. The Breen have been almost unheard. And of course Klingons will be Klingons. Their eternal infighting and bickering amongst themselves is legendary and always present. In the course of one year, they have fought no less than 15 civil wars. A rather pompous group had moved against a faction of Romulans and been beaten soundly back to their side of their neutral zone. In all, it was too quiet. And what of the Borg? The Romulan Praetor was fit to be tied. Though young, he was very capable and quite powerful in his own right. At least a dozen of their outlying worlds had gone silent. Two flights of “security” patrols had also failed to report back. It was as if a black hole had sucked up everything in that region of Romulan space. “What has happened! I want answers, not speculation!” he screamed to his boar of advisors as they sat around the table in the large and luxurious parliament chamber. The sight of someone looking so close to a Vulcan, turning deep green with anger and screaming in an obviously uncontrollable fit of emotion would be very discomforting to a person accustomed to dealing with Vulcans. “Who would dare attack us of try to infringe upon out territory!” “Praetor.” One general spoke up. We are not sure that this was any attack, it could well be….” “It could well be a defection, or maybe they all got involved with picking flowers and forget to report back! Are you a complete imbecile! Something is terribly wrong. It is an attack and we must respond!” “Praetor, if I may. We could send in dreadnaughts refitted with heavy long-range scanners to view the area from afar. We could at least gather intelligence to better plan future moves.” Spoke up Centurion Kallen. One of the oldest and most experienced warriors in the counsel. “Now there is a thought. At least someone is thinking. So be it then. And I want continuous telemetry from the ships. I want constant feedback for as long as they are out. Centurion. You are in charge of this operation. All resources are at your disposal. Julan Tru Kallen!” “Julan Tru Praetor. It will be done, we leave right away. We can rendezvous with the engineering ships and refit while on route.” “EXCELLENT Kallen. You will be rewarded.” And the praetor left the room. “Kallen, you never fail to please this young snot.” Treyus indicated. “I don’t know if you are to be commended as a loyal Romulan, or an insufferable brown noser.” “Does it really matter? Right now, I needed to do what was necessary to get the job done. And I fear that we have a very big problem here.” “How so Kallen?” “I had some preliminary information. I could not confirm it but I am sure. We got back some broken messages from some intercepted private communications between Romulan citizens on those worlds that we lost contact with. I am afraid that thee might be Borg activity behind this.” And with that, Kallen swiftly left the room while the remaining commanders and generals sat stunned, looking at each other and wondering. Rona 1212 was a big space station. She looked like a big flying saucer or a galaxy class starship with no engine nacelles or engineering section. She was perfectly round and easily 1.5 kilometers in diameter. She had 4 matter antimatter reactors. Each reactor easily 3 times larger than those aboard the largest starship. They were in different quadrants of the station. They were literally 4 complete engineering sections. The warp drive generators were in a belt around the perimeter of the station. She was capable of hitting warp 5, which was plenty for a space station. She was not designed to run but to stand and fight. The shields were a complex item. There were 7 levels of shielding, each out of phase with the other and on a constant rotating phase and frequency. It was a very touchy algorithm that allowed the phasers to fire through the shielding. The torpedoes were designed to be beamed outside the shielding at certain shifts, then launched at near warp 10 to their target. Again, another monster algorithm to allow the transporters to get through the complex shield rotation frequencies.
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