From: "RHF" Thanks for all the interest in my ongoing story. Though I've been working hard on it, progress had been slower than anticipated, so I decided to post an additional segment -- this'll probably end up as part of part 2 when I divide the whole finished story. Also I haven't had time to pass this through to the proofreaders, yet, so it might be a rough read; my apologies, and to you wonderful proofreaders, please critique this segment as you see fit. Though this part's pretty dry compared to the first (I'm getting to the drama right after this), I'd still appreciate feedback at rhf@po.cwru.edu. So read on, and I hope you won't cringe. The Heart of the Borg A Star Trek: Voyager Story By Rick "0007" Feng Version 1.0b Disclaimer: Star Trek(c), Voyager(tm), Borg(tm), the cast of characters and relevant information are registered copyrights and trademarks of Paramount Pictures(r). The author reserves all rights to the story which are not in conflict to that of the above. However, expressed permission is given herein that this story may be used for non-commercial purposes, including but not limited to postings to newsgroups, web sites, and e-mails, provided that the entire story, including this disclaimer, stays intact and unmodified excepting for format changes. Dedicated to the TPG and Ms. Jeri Ryan With thanks to beta testers One, Gregory Mawson and Morgan Peer, and all RiFters. Part Two "Captain." Chakotay stood up from the command chair as Janeway entered the bridge. For someone who had literally dragged herself out of bed just moments ago, she looked remarkably alert: uniform tidy and not one strand of hair out of place. The Commander detected a slight trace of weariness only when she spoke. "How far?" Janeway did not take the seat but rather leaned over the railing around the command pit, shoulders even with her First Officer. "Long range sensor puts it at about one-point-five light years away." -Not too close for comfort, yet,- Janeway considered the information. It could change in an instant, however: as past experiences proved, Borg cubes with their transwarp drives could easily catch up to Voyager at close to medium ranges. "Any idea on its source?" "We've been tracking it near the lower edge of the subspace band for five minutes now," said Chakotay, pointing to a telemetry display. "So far it appears to be stationary." "Kind of unusual, isn't it?" Janeway commented, getting around the railing. "I thought we were beyond the fringe of Borg expansion in this part of space." "So did I," Chakotay concurred. "Since we haven't detected any Borg activity for the past three months...but that doesn't mean we can't run into their advanced scouts or something," he suggested. "So there's no telling what this might be." Janeway bit her lower lip, frowning. "Anything from a probe to a cube." "Not yet, but frequency analysis should tell us more, in a moment." Chakotay looked over to the science station, where Tuvok stood, fingers gliding over the console with practiced ease. "Seven is on her way as well; I'm hoping that she can shed some additional light." Just then, the turbolift door opened, and side by side, Seven of Nine and Ensign Kim strode onto the bridge. The half-Borg made her way to Janeway and Chakotay while Harry assumed his usual post at the Ops station. "Captain; Commander," Seven acknowledged them both with a curt nod. "The signal?" she asked with her usual directness. "Frequency analysis is complete," Tuvok reported, before anyone else spoke. Janeway glanced at Seven, then pointed her directly to the science station. The Vulcan stood aside, allowing their resident Borg expert to take over the console. "It appears to be a standard subspace beacon," said Seven, after taking a first look at the result of the analysis. "Though the subspace band it's transmitting on is not commonly used by the Collective." Her voice registered mild surprise. "I can try to overlay some Borg decoding algorithms on it, which should reveal any hidden message." She looked up at Janeway. "Do it," replied Janeway, with an emphatic dip of her head. She then turned to Ops. "Mr. Kim, prepare the optimal course for cutting a wide berth around...whatever this is, should we do so in the likely event. And take us down to a quarter impulse -- might as well take it slow until we know the best course of action," she instructed the helm, briefly wondering why the Chief Pilot had not arrived yet. Then she recalled seeing Tom on his way to the Chief Engineer's quarters shortly after the party. -I guess I could allow them a few more minutes.- "You know we can't run from them forever," Chakotay leaned over and said in a low voice as they settled into their perspective seats in the command pit. "They'll catch up to us, sooner or later; if not here, then in the Alpha Quadrant." He was certain that Janeway knew who "they" could only be. "I know." Janeway took a deep breath, her back sinking into the chair less comfortably than she would have preferred. "They certainly have the capability, having breached Federation border years ago." She left unmentioned the last Starfleet Intelligence report she received, almost five years ago, about a possible Borg attempt to somehow change Earth's timeline. The implications, had the U.S.S Enterprise and her illustrious crew not prevented their success, were too terrible to imagine. -In some twisted, alternate timeline, the Borg probably HAD succeeded,- she thought darkly of the mind-bending ambiguities of the temporal realm. "When the time comes...we'll fight them: resistance definitely isn't futile, if the past is any telling," she told Chakotay determinedly. "We're going to need every ace in the deck," he replied. "And frankly I think we'll have to be dealt a better hand...soon." "You can't say that our luck hasn't been improving. I think we've got a pretty nice card in Seven." Janeway glanced over at the half-Borg, busy at her task. Though she never could think of the young woman only in terms of her tactical importance, the fact remained that Seven's knowledge about the Collective -- and the Delta Quadrant in general -- proved to be invaluable on numerous occasions. -But not enough to give us a sure hand.- "We still need every shred of information we can get our hands on, however. Any chance to learn more about the Borg mustn't be overlooked, especially when it might lead to any weakness we can exploit." "That's been part of our mission for quite a while," said Chakotay. "Well, the Collective certainly knows just when we need a change of pace." Janeway smiled, patting his arm lightly. "Seven, how's the decoding coming along?" she asked without turning around, noting that quite a few minutes had passed. "Seven?" prompted Chakotay, when no immediate answer came. Looking behind the railing, he saw her standing before the science station immobile. Next to her and looking concerned, Tuvok touched her arm lightly. In response, Seven's head jerked up, as if awaking from a bad dream. Stumbling away from the console in unsure steps, she almost backed into the railing. Janeway quickly got up and went to her side. Harry too was noticing the commotion, but could only shoot over a worried glance, unable to leave his station. "Sorry..Captain," finally Seven spoke, slowly, aware of all the eyes on her. She blinked several times, looking aside at Janeway and Tuvok. "I was in a...temporary trance." "Are you alright now?" asked Janeway, who had a hand on her upper arm, plainly concerned. "I've regained full control of my faculties," Seven reassured the Captain, even as she held up her Borg-armored left hand and gazed at it as if not her own. "How'd it happen?" The thought that this might turn into a replay of the time when Seven was under the influence of an infected Borg vinculum gave Janeway the chills. "A part of my cortical implant responded unpredictably when I decoded the signal. I think it was a programmed reaction," Seven said in self-diagnosis. "And the response apparently caused a brief neurological cessation." "Have the Doctor take a look at you all the same," suggested Janeway. "I will report to Sickbay later if needed," replied Seven, "But first I must tell you about the signal: we must change course to avoid it immediately." "Is it a cube?" asked Chakotay, alarmed. "Or some other Borg vessel?" "No Borg instrumentality I know of uses this signal." "It is not from the Borg?" questioned Tuvok with some skepticism. "All the frequency responses match previously received transmissions...though none used this particular subspace band." "It is superficially similar to Borg transmissions, but I cannot say with any certainty what the source is. All I know is that a part of my system had been pre-programmed to respond to this signal in its decoded form." "Respond? In what way?" It was Janeway's turn to ask. "I feel drawn to the signal source," explained Seven, breathing in deeply. "In fact, had I retained my full system of implants as a drone, the attraction would have been nearly irresistible." "And this is why you think we should avoid it." It dawned on Janeway. Seven confirmed with a nod. "I feel apprehension. I am...afraid...of what lies at its source. I do not wish to hear the voices." Suddenly she looked small, and vulnerable as any soft-bodied human. "It's going to be alright," Janeway comforted her, putting an arm around the younger woman's shoulders. Soon she was reminded of her duties as a captain, however, and as reluctant as she felt, she had to learn more before making a decision. "Seven, you know how much more we need to know about the Borg, to give us an edge, both now and when we get home...eventually. Is there anything else can you tell us about this signal?" "I understand," Seven told her, trying hard to control the ominous feeling in her heart. A part of her was more frightened by how she reacted emotionally to the signal than she feared being drawn to it -- even as this Borg-half, with the might of every implant, pushed for her to seek it out. "I now have access to previously dormant instructions, in response to having received this signal. Any drone, upon detecting the signal, will relay the find to all Borg subspace links. All vessels within a radius of fifty light years will be redirected to locate and converge upon its source, superceding all other objectives." "What could be so terribly important to them?" wondered Chakotay. -That's a lot of cubes, in a sphere one-hundred light years across.- He looked at Janeway, whose expression told him that she had the same burning uestion. -And she'd never quit until she had the answer.- "I've no access to any information regarding what might be the source of the signal, and I do not know if any drone had ever detected it before," Seven continued. "My initial reaction...my fear, was perhaps somewhat irrational. Instinctually I became...afraid of being drawn toward something unknown," she analyzed her own behavior, though still sounding very uncertain. "Seven, irrational that they may be, what you are experiencing are all very human feelings," Janeway said in reassurance, part of her marveling at how far Seven had come on the difficult journey to regain her humanity. "Fear of the unknown can be overcome with knowledge." "Captain, you intend to investigate?" Seven asked forthrightly, more of a confirmation than a question. She fixed Janeway with an intent stare. Janeway nodded, looking back at her and found no trace of the fear that was so visible moments ago. "We have to do all we can to find out what it is that's so important to the Borg. It'll probably be dangerous, or even a potential trap." She noticed and addressed Tuvok's concern. "But we will proceed with every caution, and take no unnecessary risk. Will you help us?" she asked earnestly. Seven lowered her eyes for a moment, weighing the situation; it did not take long for her to decide. "I will comply," she said firmly. "I knew you would." Janeway smiled approvingly, stroking her arm. Looking up at Chakotay and Tuvok, then around the bridge, she found the crew behind her, where they always had been. With renewed confidence, she instructed the helm, "Lay in a straight course for the signal source, warp eight." "Yes ma'am," affirmed Tom Paris, having just arrived in the turbolift. Quickly he made his way to the front of the bridge and took over from the helmsman. Under the control of his deft hands, Voyager unfolded her warp nacelles, ready for the jump to warp. She was still for a moment, but suddenly seemed to stretch out along her length, before disappearing into a point infinitely small in a flash of brilliance. * * * * * * Unbeknownst to the intrepid crew of Voyager, something at their destination had been watching their every move. -The query vessel is approaching at low warp speed. Course projection anticipates orbital insertion in one-half planetary cycle,- watchful components reported. -What will happen when it arrives and finds this conspicuous ball of ice?- a questioning thought arose. -They'll be observed,- commented another thought. -We'll see how the Borg had changed since our last contact; what new impurities they've added to their ranks in four centuries.- -A bold experiment, but reckless.- More inaudible voices resounded within the conscious network. -We'll be observed as well.- -Analysis shows that our shield is impervious to their sensors...- Others disagreed. -...Or their crude, phased-radiation based weapons. They'll glimpse no secret from us.- -Not this vessel, perhaps, but behold urgent news: long-range scan reveals its shadowy companion,- a new voice warned, surging briefly above the din of colliding thoughts. -A transwarp conduit has been erected in the wake of the vessel. Dimensional analysis suggests a Borg cube, which had been following the vessel from a distance. It was previously undetectable due to the extreme range, and abnormally low energy readings,- monitoring components iterated duly. -Observe your/our folly!- shocking thoughts accused, after a brief moment of utter quietness. -See how easily you/we have fallen for so obvious a trap! Even our vaunted defense cannot withstand the phalanx of cubes, which will surely converge onto this forsaken system!- -Cease your/our panicked blubbering,- others rebuked, keeping calm. -The cube was not within detection range of the bait signal, now terminated. No subspace transmission has left the query vessel since it began its approach course; soon none will, after it enters the projected subspace bubble that prevents all such communications. Evidence indicates that the Collective does not yet know our location.- -Nevertheless, begin preparation for leaving this system at once,- prudent thoughts suggested. -So that by the time more interlopers arrive, we'll be poised to make our exit.- -What about the approaching vessel and the cube?- still not satisfied, another pointed out. -They will surely arrive long before we can complete the preparation.- As vast, long-dormant systems powered up under the snow-covered crust of the planet, a simple reply came, menacing in its confidence: -Their minute debris will greet other newcomers.- * * * * * * "We are within visual range of the signal source...looks to be a small planet," Harry reported from Ops, shortly after Voyager dropped out of warp. "On screen." At Janeway's order, a small, cloudy-white sphere replaced the star field on the giant screen in the fore-section of the bridge. It was a world without ocean or sea, having its entire supply of liquid water locked up in eternally frozen sheets of ice and unrelenting snow blizzards. Located far from the system's primary, it seemed a desolate place, which had never known life and lacked the companionship of even a single satellite or planetary sibling. "No biological reading so far, though there's breathable level of oxygen in the areas our sensors have been able to penetrate," said Tuvok. "High level of atmospheric interference prevents a more complete scan...rather unusual for a planet of this size," he noted. Being Vulcan, irregularities brought out a natural suspicion in him. "Gravimetric analysis indicates below-normal density in mass," Seven announced from her temporary post at the science station. "Slightly inconsistent with the amount of atmosphere present. Furthermore, the system's primary could not be older than six million years, whereas stellar evolution normal to its class would not have produced any significant planetary mass for at least another ten million years." "Interesting," observed Janeway, leaning forward in the command chair. "It's almost as if this planet wasn't formed here." "Someone moved it here?" Tom wondered aloud from the front of the bridge. "The nearest star is twenty-five light years away!" It seemed too incredulous an idea; however, he recalled the watery world the Moneans called home -- all so different from the frozen sphere in front of him. Memories of that ocean-in-space held special meaning for him, and not just because he happened to lose his lieutenant's pip there. "Mr. Paris, take us around the planet and put us on a holding pattern at the LaGrange point," said Janeway. "I don't want to get too close just yet." "Yes ma'am." "What about the signal, Seven?" Janeway then turned around and asked. "Did you get a good fix on the location before it stopped transmitting?" "The last known origin of the signal is located in the northern polar region," Seven answered evenly. "I am unable to obtain a more exact fix due to atmospheric conditions." "And it's not just the sensors that they're blocking, Captain," Harry interjected. "Transport'll be a risky gamble at best. Some kind of electric storm's producing high energy radiation near the edge of the ionosphere." "So we can't see anything from up here, and can't beam down an away team either. Recommendations?" Janeway looked around the bridge for ideas. "I'd rather not see it come down to trying to land a shuttle on this snowball," Chakotay expressed his worry first. "Although evidence definitely points to something down there, it could be because someone wants us to think so." "If this is trap, the Borg certainly knows how to pique our interest," countered Janeway. "Why the elaborate yet imperfect disguise? They could easily have used some derelict space hulk, sending out a mundane distress call." She preferred not to think of their inherent curiosity as a liability, however. "The Borg have no need for deception," Seven pointed out. "Had the Collective targeted Voyager in particular, our progress would have been much more perilous, if not impossible. However it would be prudent to keep our stay in this system brief: we may not be the only one to have picked up the signal." "I don't see any way to find out what's on the surface other than flying in," Tom said as he maneuvered the ship past the planet in a flyby, close enough to reveal prominent twirling storm centers covering huge expanses. "The Delta Flyer can probably make it with no problem." He stopped short of volunteering, knowing his luck with jumping at things without forethought. "A smaller shuttle with minimal surface profile would fare better," Seven advised instead, turning to Janeway. "Captain, with your permission, I'll pilot a Class Two shuttle to the surface." "Are you sure that's wise?" Chakotay raised an eyebrow. "Once you get below the storms, provided that you can, communication'll be sporadic at best. You might be cut off from help for hours." "I'm confident that I'll succeed in getting to the surface. I understand the risks involved, but if we are to...get to the bottom of this..." Seven paused as she borrowed an oft-heard idiom to make her point. "...I must be present. In part I'm still being drawn to this place by residual programming, but I'm also experiencing...curiosity, after the initial fear, a desire to penetrate the enigma. Regardless, I intend to find out what lies here that's so irresistible to the Collective," she said ardently, eyes only on the Captain. Janeway returned her gaze, and saw at once the wayward daughter of humanity, who had taken the first steps of the homeward journey, to be standing on the threshold of the next, harder stage -- even as Voyager herself struggled on toward the Alpha Quadrant. She was not without reservations, but she also knew better than anyone what was potentially at stake on this barren world. At last, she consented, with the look in her eyes first, before spoken words. "Permission granted...but I'm assigning one other crewmember to the mission. The two of you should be more than comfortable in a Class Two shuttle," she added, reasoning that an extra hand should improve their chances down there, while still avoiding unnecessary risks posed by sending more personnel. "Understood," Seven confirmed, eyes shining with anticipation. "I need to make some preparations. I should be ready at the shuttle bay in ten minutes." With that she took leave from the bridge, heading to Deck Eight in the turbolift. Janeway took a sweeping glance at the senior officers present. They were ready, and she knew that no one would object to her order, heading into even the gravest of dangers. However, one face leapt out in particular: that of Harry Kim, whose assertive posture bore little resemblance to the wet-behnot.the-ears green cadet from five years ago. She had every trust and confidence in him, of course, no less and no more than in any of her crew -- but it was the look on him now, a mix of anxious concern and adamant resolve, which told her that nobody else would be better suited for the task at hand. Her nod to him was almost imperceptible, but it was all the cue the Ensign needed. "Aye Captain," Harry acknowledged gratefully, hastening away from his station. Janeway watched him go, with hopes but also foreboding. "Bring her back, Harry," she said softly, before the door to the turbolift closed. * * * * * * Pausing only long enough to grab an extra survival kit, Harry made it to the shuttle bay first. He began to go through the preflight checklist, making an inspection around the shuttle. "Landing gears...check; retractable airfoil...check; emergency stabilizer...check." "Copilot, check." Hearing Seven's voice, he smiled and returned to the boarding ramp. A grin still hung on his face when he did a double take at the sight of her, standing erect before him in a metallic silver bodysuit, instead of the usual brown or blue two-tune outfit which she usually wore. "Hey, Seven..." Harry managed, trying hard to keep his eyes from wondering distractedly over the brilliant, almost shimmering fabric. -The Doctor's bedside manners may need improvement, but the same can hardly be said of his...fashion sense.- Harry allowed himself the indulgent thought, remembering that the suit was originally wore by Seven to aid in skin regeneration. "I'll be going with you to the surface." "I'm not surprised that you've been assigned to accompany me," replied Seven, eyeing him with an air of amusement, as if she rather enjoyed his reaction. "We perform well...as a team." "Yep, whatever's best for the mission," Harry responded, his glance shifting momentarily downward to their feet. "I see that you register surprise at my choice of attire," Seven said pointedly, but tactfully left out any mentions of pupil dilation. "This suit provides superior thermal insulation, against surface temperature on the planet, which is expected to be well below hospitable," she explained. "Good idea," Harry agreed, nodding. "There should be plenty of air, but outside of the shuttle we'll probably still need environmental suits." He indicated where the suits were stored in the back of the shuttle. "We are well-equipped. If you've completed the preflight check, we should leave now." "Let's go then," said Harry enthusiastically, before leading Seven into the shuttle. "Can I drive?" He grinned at her as they made their way to the forward consoles. Seven's ensuing glare at him lacked real sting. "Certainly not, Copilot." * * * * * * Ominous storms were brewing on the planet below, as unseen eyes watched the shuttle's descent, with deadly intent. -The vessel is holding steady at the null-grav point between this planet and the primary, outside the striking range of the primary defense grid,- components observed indifferently. -However, a small shuttlecraft has been dispatched, which is now entering the atmosphere. Two life signs detected onboard; one is Borg.- -Never mind the shuttle, how can we destroy the mother ship?- impatient thoughts asked. -Long range weapons are being brought online; four minutes until ready status.- -What of the Borg ship?- -The Borg cube has dropped out of warp and is now within the subspace null-bubble. It is approaching this planet from the other side, opposite the null-grav point. Projected orbital insertion in four-point-five minutes.- -Destroy it when it enters firing range,- others commanded. -The other vessel, as well, when ready. I/We trust that the shuttle won't be a problem?- -Tertiary defense grid active...now initiating attack via ionic disrupter. Minimal detectable energy discharge expected..- * * * * * "Aww..." Harry groaned as his head bumped into the bulkhead above him for yet another time. -Thank God it's padded.- "Hull stress's nominal...integrity shield holding," he reported. "Good," replied Seven, hands flying over the navigational controls. "I've just deployed the airfoils, which should reduce the turbulence...and alleviate your headache." "Thanks. Only if Tom was half as considerate when he throws us into one of his wild maneuvers," Harry humored her, holding on to a handlebar all the same. So far it had been a rough ride into the turbulent atmosphere, though it was hardly on par with the worst he had been through. Just then, Seven's piloting skill brought them into the center of an electric storm, the eye, where momentary calm reigned amidst utter chaos, just like inside the hurricanes of a faraway home world. Out of the front view port, they could see streaks of blue-white lightning discharge cutting jagged paths through baleful clouds, whose frightful bulks made up the wall of the eye. Below them, according to the ground camera, blizzards were raging across featureless plains, in a domain of snow and ice untouchable by the light of the distant sun, whose impotent rays at this range only served to illuminate the icy realm in a ghastly white. Suddenly, the shuttle jolted, more violently than usual. "What was that? Are we out of the eye?" Harry asked worriedly. "Cause unknown," said Seven. She scrambled to regain control as another jolt hit the shuttle. "I've lost primary NAV control," she observed calmly, trying the backups. "Hull integrity is holding, but I think that blew out half of our control circuits," Harry said with more sense of urgency. "Backup thrusters aren't responding. We are now in free fall." They felt the nose of the shuttle taking a dramatic dip down. "This is bad..." Harry reached for the comm., in a half-futile gesture: contact with Voyager had been lost as soon as they cleared the ionosphere. "I can't raise them. Prepare for emergency transport!" He came forward to the pilot console. "Onto the surface? We don't have enough time to get into the environ suits; without them we are unlikely to survive for long..." Seven was cut short when the shuttle plunged headlong into the storms. Both barely hung on as powerful wind baffled their hull like pounding fists of giants. Up close, bolts of lightning crackled directly in front of the view port, threatening to break through. "There's no time!" Harry yelled, above the demonic wails of the wind, now plainly audible through external pickups that still functioned. "I've modified the vector docking jets to be fired on command. They should get us into a more survivable angle when we crash land." Seven was not listening. The shuttle was now through the worst of the storms. A vast, snow-covered plain became visible, rushing up at them. "Brace for impact," Seven warned, while still working the thruster controls herself. Harry had time to strap himself into his seat. He remembered yelling for Seven to get away from the view port just before they hit the ground in a bone-jarring impact...then he knew no more. * * * * * * "Any luck?" a concerned Janeway asked Tuvok, for the third time in two minutes. "Unable to establish contact," the Vulcan shook his head. "I've just lost their transponder beacon on the surface sensor. Interference is unusually strong." "This is no good. We haven't heard from them for five minutes. They should have cleared the worst of the storms and established contact by now," said Chakotay. "Keep trying to raise them," Janeway ordered. "We might get through when there's a window of clear weather." She was not half as optimistic inside, though. "Captain, I'm picking up a new energy source," the ensign manning the Ops station reported, disbelief in his voice. "It's Borg." "From the planet?" asked Janeway, alarmed. "Negative. I think it was hidden behind the planet before...it's now coming around just above the equator." Janeway left her seat, brows furrowed. "On screen." Though they were prepared, almost everyone on the bridge still grasped silently when the unmistakable block-like profile appeared before them. At this range, the Borg cube seemed to be floating above the swirling white sphere of the planet like some nightmarish phantom. "Red Alert!" Janeway snapped. The light shrill of the klaxon reverberated throughout Voyager's decks as wall panels glowed in cautious red. Crew rushed to their stations with battle-hardened expeditiousness. Far from home and expecting no help, they had to take on each fight holding nothing back, especially against an adversary with such a fearsome reputation. "What's their course?" Janeway asked Ops. "The cube is entering into geo-synchronous orbit around the planet. They've definitely detected Voyager, but seems to be ignoring us." "That's odd, I'd be expecting to hear their recruiting slogan by now," commented Tom, not expecting any laughs in response. "They must be more interested in what's on the planet," said Chakotay, standing next to Janeway, arms akimbo. "Our wild hunch paid off then," Janeway replied, briefly wondering just what was hidden there under the impenetrable clouds. Staring into the screen grimly, she considered their next move, since evidently treasure hunt would no longer be their top priority. Torn as she was between her responsibility for the safety of the ship and the heart-felt concern for Seven and Harry, there was no doubt in her mind which took precedence: she could not place the welfare of the few over the many. However, neither was she prepared to make a run for it without putting up a fight -- and giving Seven and Harry a chance. "Helm, approach the cube from above, full tactical speed." Janeway made up her mind. "Mr. Tuvok, program the hersers with rotating modulation and target their weapons and propulsion systems, fire when within range." As Tom complied, the image of the cube began to grow, until it was filling up the lower half of the screen. Janeway gripped the armrests, willing the distance between them to diminish still more, until Voyager could fire. "Unknown energy discharge detected from the planet, heading for the cube!" Ops reported urgently. Before anyone could respond, a small hole appeared in the planet's atmosphere as thick clouds rolled back, vaporized by a bright blue beam from the surface. The beam of energy leapt away from the planet, lighting up the dark void briefly in a spectacular streak, before striking the cube dead center, on its planet-facing side. Hidden from view by the bulk of the cube, the resultant explosion manifested itself to the crew of Voyager by ejecting a mist of debris into the surrounding space. The entire cube seemed to shudder, but held together even as more pieces of it flew into space. The devastating attack did not stop there, however, as Ops monitored the effect of the beam. "The energy is moving within their hull...it...it's going to break through!" "Full reverse!" realizing the danger, Janeway called out to the helm, but not soon enough. As Voyager started to pull away, the slowly receding image of the cube began to bulge in the center, and an instant later, blew out, revealing a gaping hole through which the face of the planet was visible -- and the pinpoint tip of the blue energy beam, heading straight for them. To be continued... -0007