Strange Encounters

Posted on Sun Aug 7th, 2011 @ 7:59pm by Captain Nathan Cowell MD & Lieutenant JG Elizabeth Marion & Lieutenant Colonel Anastasia DeVries & Lieutenant Commander Aral Aix & Lieutenant Xylia Lischka

Mission: Tomorrow's Arizona
Location: Bridge, USS Arizona
Timeline: Several hours following 'Getting a sense of direction...'

Commodore Nathan Cowell sat perched in the central chair of the Arizona bridge, having only recently returned from his nap in his Ready Room. The journey from the boundary of the Solaria Nebula to the Archadian system had been a rather uneventful one. The fact that they knew nothing of what was going on around them weighed very little on the Commodore's mind. Though he himself had only been a victim of a paradoxical situation once in his life thanks to the Nexus, he knew from that experience that when one was dragged into such things, it was best to see them through until end if for no other reason than to save one's own sanity. Doc Cowell let out a sigh of boredom as he watched the star field before him cascade forever toward him as the ship traveled through Warp, drawing the curious looks of several crewman scattered about the compartment.

"Anything showing up on the sensors?" Nathan asked in a bored tone.

"Nothing yet, Commodore," the voice of Lieutenant Junior Grade Elizabeth Marion called out from the Operations console. Liz had become a staple occupant of the Operations console since Lieutenant Idrani's injuries. Though Nathan had every confidence in his adopted daughter, he was beginning to wonder if perhaps he needed to put her in charge of the department for a while just to see how she handled it.

"Commodore, we're entering the Archadian system," Lieutenant Sylvari reported.

The sudden report from the Flight Controller drew Nathan from his thoughts and prompted him to do what he did best, issue orders, "Helm, slow us down to half impulse. Lieutenant Marion, start scanning the area for vessel beacons, comm traffic, anything that would indicate who's out there. Spots, you have a theory on when we might be yet?"

Aral Aix had surrendered Astrometrics for the Bridge and had been diligently working away at his console for some hours. "It's not a theory... it's a ruddy good guess." He replied.

"Same difference... out with it, Spots," the Commodore frowned.

"I had the computer map the rate of tidal movement in the Solaria nebula based on our scans. I then referenced this against scans taken by the Tornado expedition and the Excelsior. This gave us a dynamic model. Based on that model, I calculate we are about three hundred years in the future. I cross checked this against the known celestial markers from our position; they confirmed it. By my best estimates it's 2691, probably a Tuesday."

"Figures..." the Commodore grumbled, as if he were half expecting to hear what Cmdr. Aix had come up with. The information had about a minute to sink in before more pressing matters suddenly arose. Warning tones began to sound at both the OPS console and the Tactical console, something that usually meant one thing, and one thing only... trouble.

"Sir, I'm picking up a large concentration of energy from the third planet. The energy signature is not native to Archadia... and it doesn't match any known energy sources in use by the Federation," Lieutenant Marion reported with a concerned tone in her voice.

"Can you identify it?" Nathan asked as he drummed his fingers against his arm rest.

"I believe so..." the Ops Officer replied, but was cut short by yet another warning chime coming yet again from two panels at once. Nathan turned back toward Lieutenant Lischka, who was manning the Tactical console as we her duty as the Chief of Security, "What do you have on your panel?"

"Borg, Sir. I'm picking up one large Tactical Cube and five smaller Spheres on sensors. They're approaching." Lischka replied, moving her fingers over the console in front of her.

"Shields up, now!" Nathan barked, turning back toward the view screen, "Are they in visual range yet?"

"Not yet, sir, it will take them another minute to cross into our maximum visual range," Lt. Marion reported.

A single minute was hardly enough to mount a retreat. By the time they plotted a suitable course and engaged warp drive, the Borg would have had ample time to overtake them if not mount a suitable pursuit. Their only option was to stand their ground, and even that didn't seem like much of an option...

"Red Alert, all hands, prepare for combat..." Nathan ordered.

No sooner had the Commodore spoke those words did the klaxon began to sound, the compartment dimming significantly as the computer displays all changed from the standard multicolored variety to the crimson display scheme the accentuated the alert condition. The shift in mood on the bridge was almost tangible as people who had been milling about settled at a console and began making all the required checks and diagnostics to ensure the Arizona was ready for combat.

"Borg are entering weapon's range," Lt. Marion reported.

"Hold your fire until we're in maximum effective range. I don't want them adapting too damn quick," Nathan ordered, looking back only briefly to Lieutenant Lischka. Nathan turned back to the screen and watched intently as the Tactical Cube grew ever closer to the ship. His mind continued to race as he weighed all his options and tactics while waiting for the inevitable hail that the Borg were so famous for...

Right on schedule, the communication system crackled and the familiar droning sound that normally preceded a communication with the Borg came over clearly. The main view screen changed to that of the interior of the Cube, which was a rather impressive sight given that is was three hundred years more advanced than anything the Arizona crew had been witness to. The greeting they got from the ship was far more bizarre than the view they were being shown.

"We are the Borg... identify your vessel..." the voice that was composed of the sum of all the Borg drones in the Cube.

Nathan glanced over at Colonel DeVries, who merely shrugged at him without much in a way of an explanation. The fact that it was so unequivocally out of sorts just made it all the more tempting to humor them, even if Nathan had no confidence in their sincerity to have a meaningful dialogue.

"We are the USS Arizona, a Federation vessel," Commodore Cowell replied cautiously.

"The Federation is irrelevant..." the communal voice responded simply, "Please designate the leader of your collective."

"Commodore Cowell," the old man said with a frown, not liking the implication that the Federation was irrelevant.

"Commodore Cowell, we will provide you with coordinates. You will represent your collective in negotiations. You will comply..." the Borg Cube remarked before the link died.

"Oh joy... Field trip to a Borg planet..." Nathan lamented as he sank down into his chair, "Stand down from Red Alert. Helm, take us to the planet and set a synchronized orbit over the meeting coordinates. Ms. DeVries... can we talk in my Ready Room? Spots, the bridge is yours..."