Resistance - J.M. Dillard [16]
Her demeanor became at once utterly serious, her tone flat; the smile was now no more than a memory. She put her elbows on her desk and leaned forward. “What’s going on?”
“The Borg are in Alpha Quadrant,” he said. “They’re regrouping. Forming a new Collective.”
She tilted her chin upward at that, the only sign of surprise she allowed herself; in the space of a second, however, she had lowered it again, and narrowed her eyes, digging in for a fight. This was not, Picard knew, going to be easy.
“Where?” she demanded.
“In Sector Ten. On a moon…” He paused, frustrated with himself. He knew that he could not give her the details she wanted, which would make him sound irrational. “They’re creating a new cube, a ship. It’s nearly habitable and will be launched soon.”
“Do you have the coordinates? We could send a ship to investigate.” Her emphasis on “could” revealed a healthy degree of doubt.
Picard tried to shake off a sudden sense of awkwardness. “I don’t know the precise coordinates…”
She scowled slightly at that and folded her hands atop the desk, abruptly formal. “Are your long-range scanners malfunctioning? Or are you basing this on some sort of intelligence?”
Picard did not allow himself to hesitate. He replied firmly, “We’re not close enough for long-range scans, Admiral. I have detected Borg chatter. They’re communicating with each other about the new Collective, about their intent to organize and make a fresh attempt to assimilate humanity.”
Janeway grew very still, fixing her gaze on him so intently that a weaker personality might have withered beneath it. “Would you mind explaining, Captain, how you detected this ‘chatter’?”
“I heard it. In my…mind. I was part of the Collective once, you know.”
“Yes, I do know.” Her tone and expression softened briefly, then she came down hard, with no effort to veil her skepticism. “When Voyager emerged from Delta Quadrant, I saw the queen destroyed—as well as her vessel and all the progeny contained within it. More important, their transwarp corridors have been obliterated. The Borg are crippled, Captain. There might be a few surviving drones scattered throughout the galaxy, but without a queen or contact with the Collective, they’re lost. The majority of drones that remain are no doubt still in Delta Quadrant. How could they possibly be a threat to us here?”
Picard matched her vehemence. “Nevertheless, they are regrouping here. I’ve sensed it. My connection to the Borg is documented. And I know that they have grown frustrated with the fact that humanity has stood in the way of their goal of total assimilation. This time, they are determined to conquer us. It’s more than just assimilation. The Borg want revenge.”
Her gaze remained unwavering, unmoved. “The Borg don’t seek vengeance. Their actions aren’t based on emotions. At least, the drones’ aren’t. You should know that better than anyone.” Her posture and expression suddenly relaxed. “Jean-Luc, you’re asking me to issue orders, to send a ship to who knows where, based on nothing more than your instincts. Put yourself in my position…”
She sighed, and in that sigh, Picard sensed victory, however slight. “But let’s assume you’re right—that the Borg are re-forming a Collective, in the Alpha Quadrant. I’m willing to give you the benefit of that doubt. If so, then the best person to deal with this is Seven of Nine. She’s currently assigned to Earth. I’ll contact her immediately, then forward any specific information you can give me. But I’ll need to know more than just, ‘We think the Borg are on a moon somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant.’”
It was all Picard could do not to interrupt her. “Admiral, there’s no time. You must trust my instinct, which is telling me that the Enterprise is the closest starship to the hive’s activity. There’s a chance we can stop them before the ship is finished and they launch an attack. They have to be destroyed now.”
Perhaps there’d been more heat, more shrillness in his