By the Dashboard Lights

Posted on Sat Jan 28th, 2017 @ 11:32pm by
Edited on on Sun Jan 29th, 2017 @ 7:26am

Mission: Another Day in Paradise
Location: USS Arctic Alpha Quadrant, Union Gateway
Timeline: Concurrent to Red Alert!

The USS Arctic started life as a steamrunner class ship put into service just before the outbreak of the Dominion War. During that war it was damaged to the point where it could be repaired, but at the conclusion of the War, it was decided not as many warships were necessary. The Artic was refitted to be a modular transport carrier. From troops, personnel, equipment, cargo…whatever was needed.

As a ship whose voyages were reduced to what could be termed ‘milk runs’ or ‘gofers’, the crew of the ship were usually younger, less experienced and, most of all, skeletal. Generally not a bother. The flight paths of previous assignments were carefully planned to keep it out of harm’s way, it was able to outfly most raider ships – and it’s profile kept enough armaments to remind raiders that it was a Starfleet vessel anyway.

Currently, it was transporting personnel from the Alpha Quadrant to the Delta Quadrant. Many of them were for duty rotations, allowing crew from various ships to return to the Alpha Quadrant – their Delta tours over. Others were reassigned for various scientific or exporatory reasons. The cargo bays were full of not just the effects of the passengers, but also equipment and supplies necessary for restocking of Delta ships. For most of those aboard as passengers, this would be the very first trip they would undertake to the Delta Quadrant. Emotions ran from disgruntled to excited and every emotional shade between.

Very few were bored. Curither Bran was one of them. As he and his team were among the first to be picked up by the Arctic. After noticing the skeleton crew of the ship, including its three security personnel, he volunteered him and his team to help with security duties during their transport from the Alpha Quadrant to the Delta Quadrant. The Arctic’s captain, LTJG Hannah, declined the offer and let Bran know he was free to consider himself ‘at liberty’ and to ‘take advantage of what the ship could offer in recreation’.

Bran’s team took to the idea of the week and a half vacation. Bran joined them for several rounds of holodeck novels, holodeck adventures, continued their twice daily PT routine (to the chagrin of of other passengers). Using the access to the Federation computer library, Bran continued to gather research for his thesis. But…Bran was used to work. Too much downtime was not something he relished. If he had access to mountains to hike, or caves to expore – atmospheres to dive? Then he could have occupied his time. But there was only so much ‘safe adventure’ he could stand.

“We’re approaching the Union Gateway now,” Hannah said as Bran wandered back onto the bridge. The young chief petty officer who manned the security/tactical station gave him a brief nod. “We should have you dropped off at SB900 by dinner. Or lunch, depending on local time.” Hannah grinned. He’d become used to Bran coming by the Bridge as he wandered the ship. In truth he found the warrant officer somewhat interesting. He was educated, that much their talks made apparent, and claimed to be working on his doctoral thesis in philosophy. But, unlike many of the other officers that were transported by the Arctic crew, he never tried to take charge. After his first offer was turned down, it was never mentioned again.

“Transponder codes accepted, Union Gateway active,” CPO King answered from the tactical station. Bran wondered if the young noncom always sounded so stiff and formal with this crew or if he was merely putting on the act for Bran’s benefit. Smiling at the possibility, Bran turned back to the viewscreen. In truth this was interesting, something he’d never yet experienced and was – he hoped – just the first in much that he’d never before experienced. The Delta Quadrant waited him and his team and he was looking forward to what new and exciting challenges presented out there. Maybe, if he were lucky, it was the brand new life he’d been wanting for some time now.

Six trapezoidal blocks joined by what seemed to be a thin gray ring began flashing, a pool of energy oozing into the center until it exploded inward and in a flash, the space behind it was…different. Bran couldn’t say how, he just knew it was. The ring kept growing as they moved forward at full impulse speeds. Bran wanted to feel somehow different, but most of the bridge crew seemed relaxed and as bored as he felt.

“Sir!” King said, his voice edged as he spoke. Bran turned to face him as Hannah stood and turned as well.

“Sir, SB900 is refusing to acknowledge transponder codes, they’re broadcasting a red alert and SOS!”

“All stop!” Hannah immediately ordered, but even Bran knew that it was too late. He didn’t know if it were normal, but he felt the tug from the Gateway and saw the trapezoidal blocks passing out of view of the viewscreen. There was just a moment.

“All stop, Captain, but we were pulled through the Gateway. We’re in the Delta Quadrant,” the helmsman answered.

“Get SB900 on comms,” Hannah ordered, “Find out what’s going on and –“

“Oh my god,” King said, actually taking a step away from the console. “Sir, sensors are..this can’t be right, sir.”

“What?” Hannah asked, glancing over at Bran, considering that he may need the experience after all.

“Borg, sir, lots of Borg.”

Bran moved up to the tactical station and was about to take over the sensor readings, sure it was a sensor ghost, or malfunction or something else when the shipboard comms crackled like lightning ran across them. Then clearly tuned and robotic:

"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."