Section 31: Rogue
by
“ I have no choice but to help Grelun and his people,” Zweller said. “And all I ask is that you keep an open mind .” They came to a stop before a partially demolished wall. The squat ruin offered them some small respite from the raging winds. Zweller watched as Riker’s boyish face changed, settling into hard planes and angles. An aurora crackled far overhead, like an electrical arc jumping between the uprights of an old‑fashioned Jacob’s ladder.
Zweller handed the tricorder to Riker, who immediately began scanning the wall and the surrounding terrain. The dour‑eyed guards stood by quietly while Riker pored over the readouts.
The wall bore a small humanoid silhouette. A child’s shadow, rendered in a micrometer‑thin layer of carbon atoms. Several other nearby structures bore similar marks.
Riker’s mouth was moving. Lip‑reading, Zweller thought he made out a “My God.”
Zweller shouted into the wind. “Chiarosan weaponry isn’t all ceremonial flatware, Commander. Especially among Ruardh’s people.”
Zweller paused, smiling mirthlessly before continuing. “Sometimes those folks use disruptors.”
PROLOGUE
Stardate 50907.2
Population approximately nine billion . . . all Borg.
Picard’s breath fogged the large window on his cabin wall, the moisture momentarily making the view of his homeworld indistinct and devoid of color. Even now, five days after they’d been uttered, Data’s words reverberated through his mind as he once again relived that terrible moment on the bridge. On the main viewscreen had been an Earth altered beyond belief, its continents transformed into a bleak technological sprawl, its oceans dark, its atmosphere thin and gray. Caught in the temporal wake of a Borg sphere, Picard and his crew had seen with their own horrified eyes what the Borg had wrought by fleeing into Earth’s past.
But the Enterprisehad pursued them, and in so doing, stopped the Borg from assimilating Earth, and ensured the completion of humanity’s historic first warp flight.
Picard closed his eyes and straightened his posture, moving his forehead off the back of his hand. His breath evaporated, and Earth was restored to its tranquil blue and white.
And now we’re back in the present,Picard thought somberly. Earth is as it was, at least as far as we know . . . although who really knows what effect our presence in the past–however carefully controlled and covered up–has had onthis timeline?He had told his crew that they were going back to repair whatever damage the Borg had done, but how much change had his own actions in the past had upon the present?
Picard didn’t like thinking about the issues inherent in the temporal tampering, though the analytical portions of his mind had wandered there all too often in the last few days. If the Enterprisecrew aided Zefram Cochrane’s 21st‑century voyage, hadn’t they always been there in the mists of history, however unrecorded? And if the Borg had conquered Earth and had then been beaten back, hadn’t that alwaysoccurred? Following Data’s own theoretical ruminations on the topic, Picard had been forced to tell him to keep the subject to himself; he was tired of thinking about it.
Better than thinking about the alternative,the voice in the back of his head would tell him. Picard and his crew were already dealing with the direct consequences of their journey, and even though they had saved the future of mankind, the reward of that knowledge seemed to pale when stacked against the costs. It had taken La Forge and his engineers a couple of days to create a makeshift replacement for their lost navigational array, one capable of reproducing the effect that had allowed them to journey to the past in the first place. During that time, Will Riker and Worf had been busy rounding up the ASRV lifeboats that were jettisoned when Picard had initiated the Enterprise’s autodestruct sequence.
Once that danger and Borg threat had been stopped, retrieving the nearly 200 escape pods had proven more challenging than his officers had expected; some had made it to Earth, some had lingered in orbit. Although about three‑quarters of them had made it to the rendezvous point on Gravett Island in the South Pacific, crewmembers from some of the other autonomous survival and recovery vehicles had been grounded elsewhere–mostly due to Borg‑related system glitches. Many of those had dispersed into the regions they landed in, some taking refuge in the wilderness in case of Borg pursuit, others trying their best to blend in with the ragged factions of postapocalypse humanity they encountered.
Most of the repairs to the Enterprisehad to wait until the ship got to McKinley Station, where they were now docked. Most of the crew were still in the long queues for the starbase’s massive medical complex; they had to be quarantined, scanned, and decontaminated, not only for any possible Borg infection, but for any viral or bacterial pathogens they may have picked up while in the past. It wouldn’t do to release a 21st‑century virus, whether natural or bioengineered, into the 24th century.
After being given clean bills of health, the crew would have some time off. How much time was unknown at this point. Engineering crews–all wearing biohazard containment suits–were scouring the ship, removing the self‑replicating Borg technology from corridors and circuit panels and Jefferies tubes. Many of the ship’s main systems would have to be repaired as well. Panels were off the walls, and circuitry was spread across the deckplates. Only a year out in theEnterprise‑E and we’re already in need of a major overhaul,thought Picard, his ruminations still dark.
Picard’s own cabin was untouched, and, except for the occasionally malfunctioning environmental controls, it offered him a place of rest and solitude. He knew that the repair crews hadn’t touched his ready room yet. He suspected that Riker had told them not to. It too had not been violated by the Borg or their technology, but the display case which had held models of the previous Starships Enterprisewas still half‑destroyed, smashed by the phaser rifle Picard had swung at the case during his fit of pique. You broke your little ships,the woman from the past had said. Lily Sloane had known that the battle against the Borg was too personal for him. But it wasn’t until afterward, when he saw the wrecked models, that Picard had seen it too.
He heard a knock, and the door of his quarters swished halfway open before grinding to a halt. “Captain?” a voice questioned. Two strong hands pushed the door the rest of the way into its wall recess, and Picard turned, seeing a familiar face. Like the captain, Riker had hardly slept the last several days, and the bags under his eyes showed it.
“Rather a mess out there, wouldn’t you say, Number One?” Picard asked, gesturing out the door, where work crews could be seen removing Borg conduit hoses from a ceiling duct.
“Yes, sir. From the reports I’m hearing, the Borg circuitry got farther into our systems than we realized. We’re lucky we made it back in one piece,” Riker said. He didn’t need to add the words “this time.”
Picard sat on his couch, gesturing for his first officer to sit opposite him. It was late, but until the Borg matter was completely concluded, Picard didn’t mind Riker interrupting his all‑too‑rare quiet time. The padd his first officer carried hadn’t escaped the captain’s notice, and as much as Picard might not wish to face the duty it represented, he knew that he must. He owed it to them.