Chapter 6: A Brand New Day
2408
Kirina sits cross-legged on her bed, slouched over. The room is dark, save for the blinking of her desk computer, indicating a waiting message. Time passes. Suddenly, the lights come on, dim as they are. A sharp tone pierces the still air. The computer speaks, “The time is 05:00”
Finally.
She jumps out of bed. Maybe the fastest she’s moved in months. In record time, she’s gone in and come out of the sonic shower, tossed on her uniform, and headed out of her quarters. A short walk down the hall, through the security checkpoint, and into the heart of The Project’s confiscated section of the ship. She passes Commander Galan on her way into the research area.
He looks angry again today. Maybe there’s something he can do.
Over to her desk. A new sample is waiting. The night crew never fails to deliver. Kirina slides the sample of modified nanoprobes into her microscope and takes a look. Before long, she slides in a piece of organic material. The little robots quickly latch on and begin destroying it.
Six hours. Taking into account our detection and containment measures, it would take nearly six hours for these to spread throughout the ship and incapacitate the crew. Too slow.
Radiation. Gravimetric, Hyperonic, Polaric, Analeptic, Baryon, Thoron, Thermionic. Failures. Thalaron… effective, but with no chance of recovery. Subnucleonic… causes degradation over time.
Radiation. Too slow; too easily detected. Thalaron… Thalaron could work. In a ventilation shaft. Five minutes. Maybe six.
Kirina looks up. Time has passed. Hours. The faces have changed. K'haeth is present now. He walks over.
“Progress today, Subcommander?”
“Subnucleonic Radiation shows some promise. It’ll need to be tested.”
Perhaps you’d like to volunteer?
“Excellent. They’re bringing up a group of four this afternoon. They’re all yours, Kirina.”
“Thank you, Major”
Kirina neatly packs away the spent test samples and carries them over to the waste receptacle. Before long, she finds herself back in the corridor. She idly looks around at the twisted, exposed circuitry running along the walls. The signature eerie green glow of the conduits is the only lighting in this section of the ship. Sure, there are other ways to reach the lounge, but this is the way she’d always choose. A reminder.
Fifteen minutes, at best, before they’d drag one of The Project’s engineering specialists out here to fix a ruptured Plasma Conduit. They wouldn’t risk letting one of the ship’s regular crew come in here.
Through the checkpoint, into the standard corridor. The air quality has changed. It’s easy to forget how stale it seems inside, sometimes. A few turns and a short turbolift ride later, Kirina is entering the lounge. She stops at the counter and receives her meal. She’s not too picky, whatever’s being served today is what she’ll eat.
They’re staring again. The ones that don’t know are curious. The ones that do are disgusted. How can I eat before going in there, right?
Kirina takes her tray over to her usual seat by the window. No Aurelia today. She’ll be off collecting this afternoon’s lucky winners by now. The doctor shovels down a few bites of her food, followed by a sip of her drink. It only takes a few minutes for her to finish the portion of her meal that she’s actually going to eat, and begin her staring out the window.
Explosive decompression can cause incapacitation within a few seconds. Would need to be coordinated throughout the ship for maximum effect. Probably not viable in this case.
Kirina’s comm beeps. The Major’s voice comes through, “They’re here.” She checks the time as she stands and heads for the door. Nearly two hours have passed. Back into the hall, through the checkpoint, into the research area, into the small room. Opening up a small wall locker, she changes into her pristinely white surgical outfit and then heads back out into the hall where she is soon joined by Major K’haeth and eight silver-clad officers. They move just beyond the security checkpoint, out into the normal section of the corridor. Several minutes pass in silence as they wait for the new ‘subjects’ to arrive.
A transporter 'accident.' It would be quick, at least.
Aurelia emerges from the transporter room, handing off her rifle to one of the security Uhlans. She’s followed by her team, escorting a group of four Romulan colonists, just as K’haeth promised. Two by two, The Major’s hounds take custody of the subjects. Aurelia and her team move away, as Kirina and the rest escort the colonists to a holding area. Three are sent inside immediately, while the fourth receives a hypospray injection from Kirina. After that short delay, he’s sent in with his ‘co-conspirators,’ and the door is sealed behind him. Kirina and the Major walk into a control room to observe.
I’m so sorry.
It’s only a few short minutes before the first event of note. A metallic implant sprouts from the hand of the man that Kirina injected, designated ‘Subject 989.’ He cries out in pain. The others rush to him, presumably to see if there’s anything they can do to help him. A bad decision. A second implant bursts through the man’s left cheek, at about the level of his nose. A third on his upper arm. By the time the others realize what’s happening, the partially converted man has grabbed ‘Subject 992’ by the throat. Two tubules emerge from the hand-implant and puncture the other man’s neck.
Within 45 seconds of the appearance of the first implant, ‘989’ had injected all three of the others. At 92 seconds, the first piece of exo-armor began to form. At 156 seconds, all four subjects were back on their feet, attempting to leave the sealed room. Kirina floods the cell with subnucleonic radiation.
Two minutes and thirty six seconds for one to become four. Estimate three minutes to be on the safe side.
At 315 seconds, ‘991’ began attempting to construct a transmitter. K’haeth erects a dampening field and further secures the room with a heavy security door. By 423 seconds, the drones had broken through the inner door of the cell and discovered the Major’s countermeasures. At 546 seconds, ‘990’ reaches for the monitoring camera linked to the control room.
Multiply. In six minutes, one drone becomes sixteen. Nine minutes after that, there are over a thousand…
“We are the Borg.”
… Irix has a crew of fifteen hundred. It would take just shy of twenty minutes, under ideal conditions…
“Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own.”
Conditions are never ideal. There will be resistance.
“Resistance is futile.”