Deep space.
16 September 2259
Stardate 2417.71
Shuttlecraft Calypso.
Today was not one of the better days to test out a new (and possible) revolutionary warp drive system—which (in theory) was supposed to "tunnel" its way through the very fabric of any domain—which many respected Federation quantum theorists postulated as a form of interphasic travel.
But in order to make it work—the delicately balanced antimatter streams of any Federation capital ship (currently in service)--would have to work in conjunction with a rarely found Ganemite crystal.
That crystal would then be bombarded with a combination of tightly focused and highly concentrated streams of chroniton particles—vibrating on very specific (sympathetic) frequencies.
The prototype engine itself was built into the USS Kongo (NCC-1710)--under the command of Captain P'jen Sek: The heir apparent to the T'maj Dynasty on Hotamek Prime.
For Lieutenant-Commander Evelyn Masters—("Eve" to most of her shipmates)—being formally chosen to be a part of his extended family (through pomp and ceremony) was one of the most wonderful things to happen in her life: Since being assigned to the Kongo only seven standard months ago—during a scheduled layover at Starbase Nine.
But now—as she frantically piloted her shuttle away from the (now powerless) and derelict starship—Eve couldn't help the flood of chaotic memories which still tormented her: Three whole days (now) after the vessel "ran aground" in a subspace anomaly.
The Kongo's misfortunes didn't start until halfway through its journey—through interphasic space: When the Chief Engineer reported a growing fractal imbalance in the Ganemite crystal itself.
From the ship's senior staff points of view (in agreement with the Kongo's Science Officer), the whole setup was never supposed to fail at all.
And no exact cause of the imbalance could be determined either.
In a desperate attempt to contain what the ship's Chief Engineer realized was a runaway chain reaction—within the modified warp core itself—Captain Osek ordered the whole system shut down by pulling the plug at its source.
What should have followed next didn't happen at all. The USS Kongo accelerated even faster than thought possible—before slamming itself into the proverbial brick wall of a subspace anomaly—two hours later.
The brutal impact literally warped the space frame of the Kongo itself for a grand total of eleven seconds—before stabilizing—but the tragic incident killed two-third's of the ship's crew in the process: Including Captain P'jen Sek himself and most of the senior Bridge crew.
Gripping the royal family medallion that her captain bequeathed to her—after the ceremony—Evelyn continued to make rapid corrections to the shuttle's helm console while her four surviving shipmates (including one of the Kongo's galley cooks) huddled together as best they could.
Despite all the rocking and bouncing about—as a result of a hasty departure—from the shrinking visual of her former home.
Other escape shuttles buzzed about as well—three of the larger Kent-class versions passing the woman by—from her starboard aft.
But the Calypso was no ordinary party wagon either—as Eve pushed her ship to its maximum limits.
And that...?
Is what saved everyone on board in the next few seconds—just as the ship's warp field containment system failed outright—consuming the Kongo in an explosive rush of flame, fire, and tiny bits of matter.
The conflagration spread out like a shock wave—consuming the stragglers that didn't get out of the blast zone quick enough: Three..maybe four at most.
The Calypso still shook violently like a child's toy—despite the considerable distance Eve had gotten herself outwards. But even then...?
Physics still played its part in the grand scheme of things. Always.
Once the chaos had subsided and everything (currently) had returned to normal...?
The woman engaged the shuttle's warp drive and angled it towards the nearest star system only seventeen light-years distant. (According to the sensor telemetry on hand.)
Letting go of the family medallion around her neck, Eve glanced back at her shipmates and said tiredly:
"Everyone accounted for?"
Quiet nods greeted her—one by one—before Ensign Gordon Dickson raised his hand and asked, "So what now? Where we going to go?"
"Somewhere safe. Somewhere where we can have a chance at survival—at least...that's my hope." The woman said—watching the stars slide by at warp speed.
***
Six years later.
Star System 103-90-15.
Planet 4.
Eve ran through the high brush—a half-mile from the Emerald Shores that she and her husband Gordon Dickson—had made a home for themselves; after coming here...so long ago. Ages ago. It seemed from her absent perspective.
Unfortunately for them all...? Tranquility and peace had been torn asunder by a new arrival—a green and black sphere of unknown design and point of origin.
But their message was crystal clear enough. A singular voice—cutting through the noisy din of both fear and chaos—trumpeting an age-old mantra all at the same time:
"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance...is futile."
Futile or not...? Eve didn't believe in the no-win scenario—back at Starfleet Academy.
She would make sure that whatever these...things were chasing her—would have to work extra hard for their elusive prize.
Even though more were coming—materializing in small groups and fanning out from all points of the compass.
The whirring, chittering, beeping sounds quickly overtook the peaceful serenity of the forest around her—making sure that she knew what was coming.
What was impending.
Then two of these...things appeared out of nowhere on her right side—just barely out of her peripheral view.
Eve spun around then—her hand phaser raised and then immediately trained on the first cybernetic humanoid.
The woman fired and scored a direct hit to the center plexus of her would be attacker's chest: Dropping him in a heartbeat.
The second one absorbed the blast of her phaser through some kind of erected force-field—allowing the humanoid to advance on her without further interruption.
Eve fired again and again—just as the cybernetic creature got within an arm's length of her. Sadly—for her—she never saw the other two stealthily coming up from behind her: The first grabbing her by the neck—as she reflexively screamed in response-before something sharp and painful pierced her skin.
For those next few seconds, her vision swam, her thoughts become even more erratic—as something she never experienced before...?
Started to take over every part of herself. Every aspect of her being—with a steady drone of voices left to echo in her ears:
"We are one. We are...the Borg."
And that's the last thing Eve could ever recall saying after that.
Because nothing of her previous life mattered anymore.
Just the instinctive need for perfection and absolute order unto itself.
And as a newly assimilated drone of the Borg Collective—she would make sure that directive was carried out by the will of the Collective itself—no matter what the challenge or the obstacle. Or what lay directly in her chosen path.
The Borg would prevail.
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