bungakertas | An Exercise In Futility: Chapter Nine (Reply)

Seven had found herself somewhat disappointed when she was discovered not have the specific gene that allowed her to operate the devices created by the society these humans termed "Ancients." She admired the concept of limiting their function only to members of one species. As security measures went, it was very efficient. Despite her lack of the gene, Tuvok—who also lacked the Ancient gene—had selected her as part of the team on the ground in what Dr. Jackson told them had been a scientific research outpost, and they had both been assisting in setting up their defenses.

Like most of Voyager, Seven had rapidly realized that the humans who were members of what they called Stargate Command were much like Starfleet in their ideology. It made them good partners in this current endeavor. They had also stated that they did not agree with the Prime Directive, but would respect it. While none of the Starfleet officers had stopped them from making cursory examinations of their technology, none of the SGC personnel had attempted anything beyond visual observation, and had been largely respectful of the crew's desire to avoid taking their technology.

Seven had a feeling that they had recognized that Voyager was superior only in terms of weapons and fine sensor scans. Many of the other critical systems on Prometheus (especially the propulsion) were far superior, and likely the SGC simply did not wish to negotiate for them. Perhaps they would have at least made stronger attempts at persuasion if they did.

Now that their defenses were in place, everyone was at rest in their places, waiting to see whether the Super-Collective would come to their trap. Seven was waiting in their staging post with the other Starfleet personnel who were here under Commander Chakotay.

She had been confident the Super-Collective would come only a few hours ago, but now, in this inactive lull, she was beginning to wonder if that had been overconfident. A man—or two, sharing a single body—had voluntarily put himself at the non-existent mercy of the Borg at her recommendation and now…nothing was happening. What if they did not come?

Vorik—who did possess the Ancient gene—came up to them from a hallway. "Doctors Jackson and Beckett report that the outpost is as active as they can cause it to be. We have even turned on a communication array and set it to broadcast on frequencies known to be monitored by the Borg."

Chakotay frowned. "I suppose we're not being very subtle about the fact that this is a trap."

"The Borg do not believe they can be effectively resisted. Traps are meaningless to them," Seven said automatically. Then, realizing that perhaps this very overconfidence had sent Malek to his death, she added, "Generally speaking."

Chakotay and Vorik both turned to her with curious expressions.

Seven shifted her stance, suddenly uncomfortable. "Perhaps I should not purport myself to be so expert in the behavior of the Borg."

"You spent longer in the Collective than any other liberated drone. You are the one who taught us that the Borg have a culture and a philosophy," Chakotay replied. "You are an expert on their behavior."

"But what if I am in error? Malek has already sacrificed himself," Seven protested.

"That is an illogical concern. Error is always a possibility and was a known factor of risk prior to Malek's decision," Vorik told her.

Seven blinked. "I had not considered that. Thank you."

"I come to serve," he replied.

Seven stiffened. From time to time, she still received messages from the Collective, and such a transmission was reaching her now.

"Seven?" Chakotay's expression was now one of concern.

"I can hear them. The Super-Collective." She tilted her head to the side in a futile attempt to "hear" better. "They are altering their course. They are going…" She took a moment to translate the designated course adjustment from the Borg's usual form of communication to those Voyager was using at the moment. "Here. They are coming here. It appears I was not mistaken after all."

Chakotay tapped his badge. "Chakotay to Voyager and Prometheus."

"Go ahead, Commander," Tuvok answered.

"Reading you, Commander," Lieutenant Simmons said from the other ship.

"Seven is receiving communications from the Super-Collective. She says they're on their way."

"Let's hope Malek was successful in his mission," Kathryn said. "We're all in position up here. We give the Collective five minutes to transporter range. Good hunting, Commander."

"And you, Voyager. Prometheus."

Chakotay tapped his badge again to turn it off and then turned to the others. "All right. Five minutes. Anything that needs to be done better be finished already."

Everyone—other than Vorik and herself—smiled a little at that. Seven had observed that such little humorous moments served the purpose of "breaking up tension" as the Doctor called it. She was still struggling to understand her own emotions, and therefore did not really understand tension of this sort, or why it was bad, but it seemed important to the human members of the crew and those with similar psychologies. Perhaps it was the reassurance that making a joke meant a situation was relaxed, and non-threatening. Therefore they need not feel threatened by this one. A foolish thought, since this situation was dangerous in the extreme, but humans seemed to function more efficiently with this falsehood in their minds.

She would have the Doctor attempt to explain it later.

The next several minutes seemed to pass by at a slower rate than they ought to but when things began to happen, it was very abrupt. Several Borg drones and an enormous number of Replicator bugs were transported on to the ground outside the Outpost.

There had been some debate as to whether that could be expected or if the Collective would simply transport their attackers inside. This debate halted when the two remaining tok'ra, Selmak and Anise, discovered a device that the others identified as a goa'uld shield emitter and the SGC personnel had been able to repair it quickly. According to their allies, this shield prevented anything moving with a high rate of kinetic energy from penetrating it, but not those of slower speeds. The Borg and Replicators would be unable to transport in, but would not be prevented from transporting just outside and approaching at a slower speed.

And now, the enemy was here.

These new drones were mainly those who had been on the Borg vessel, but intermixed with them were those who had been servants of Zipacna. The ones called jaffa.

The phasers on the roof began firing, which Seven had expected. She had known that the projectile weapons the Earth people used would be loud, but she had not anticipated just how loud until they opened fire. Combined with the electrical sounds produced by the “staff weapons” and “zat guns” in use by Teal’c and the tok’ra, and she actually winced in surprise at the volume of noise suddenly rending the quiet.

Chakotay and Ayala, who were in covered positions near her, both seemed entire at ease with the situation and Seven suddenly realized that they had been in ground combat against then Cardassians before. This scenario was not new for them.

One of the SGC soldiers, “HAILEY” by her nametag, took up a position beside Seven.

“You okay over there?” Hailey asked, as she picked off Replicator bugs.

Seven frowned. “I am functional.”

Hailey quirked her mouth as she took aim at a drone. Her shot was deflected by a shield. Seven took aim with her phaser rifle and the drone went down.

“Call your targets. I’ll finish them if they don’t go down for you,” Hailey told her.

Seven nodded, and began calling out which drone she was targeting. Hailey was an efficient partner and the two of them picked off at least ten drones on their own. The approach was now covered in disassembled Replicator blocks and fallen drones. The ground forces kept coming, of course, but it was clear to Seven that barring significant intervention to assist the Super-Collective or some catastrophic disaster for the defenders, the attacking Super-Collective forces would be defeated.

And then significant intervention arrived.

The clouds seemed to boil as a ship descended through them, shaped like a pyramid, and firing heavy bolts on the research outpost. The shield deflected them, but the power to every other system dipped alarmingly on each blow.

“Time for step two!” Chakotay called back down the hallway.

“Seconded!” came the voice of Colonel O’Neill from above.