U.S.S. Horizon
Blue light shimmered into form. Rios hit the deck hard, phaser still in his grip. Around him, T'Lenn, Vega, Korr—and a cluster of terrified colonists—materialised in a haze of smoke and ozone.
"Welcome back," the transporter chief said grimly. "You cut that close."
Rios staggered to his feet, heart pounding. "Tell me the ship's still in one piece."
The deck lurched violently, throwing him against the console. The klaxon blared overhead.
"Bridge to Rios!" Vann's voice snapped over comms. "We've got bigger problems—the rupture just went critical. Get up here. Now."
Rios exchanged a glance with T'Lenn. Her expression was calm, but her words were anything but reassuring:
"The situation has… escalated."
The bridge shook violently as the rupture flared, tearing wider with a soundless scream of energy. Lightning arced across its edges, ripping through the void like claws. Then, from the swirling chaos, something emerged.
Not Borg. Not mechanical. Alive.
The vessel was organic—sleek, predatory, its surface rippling like muscle under translucent armour. Bioluminescent veins pulsed with eerie green and violet light, and its elongated form twisted with a grace that defied physics. It moved like a living predator, not a machine.
T'Lenn's voice broke the stunned silence. "Species 8472," she said, her tone as calm as ever. "Confirmed by bio-signature. Fluidic space entity."
Rios felt his stomach drop. "Undine," he whispered. "What the hell are they doing here?"
The alien ship pivoted, its bioplasmic weapon nodes glowing with lethal energy. Then it fired.
A lance of searing green plasma ripped across the void, striking a Borg probe. The probe didn't explode—it disintegrated, its hull atomised in a flash of light. The Borg sphere immediately redirected all fire toward the newcomer, emerald beams lashing out in fury.
"They're ignoring us," Jorak growled. "They're going after the Undine."
"Three-way fight," Rios said grimly. "And we're in the middle."
The Undine ship fired again, this time at the sphere. The blast tore a massive chunk from its hull, green plasma venting into space. The Borg retaliated, but the Undine vessel danced through the beams with terrifying agility.
"Captain," Cole said, his voice tight, "if that thing can shred a Borg sphere in two shots, what do you think it'll do to us?"
Vann's antennae angled forward, her voice like steel. "We're about to find out. Helm—get us clear of the crossfire. Tactical—keep firing on the Borg. If they assimilate Undine tech, the entire quadrant is finished."
The Horizon banked hard, phasers blazing as the battle erupted into chaos—Borg green, Undine bioplasma, and Starfleet amber lancing across the void. The rupture pulsed behind them, widening, hungering for more.
The bridge was chaotic. The rupture pulsed like a living wound, vomiting arcs of green lightning into the void. The Borg sphere and the Undine bioship circled each other like predators, their weapons tearing the darkness apart. And in the middle of it all, the Horizon fought to survive.
"Shields at five percent!" Jorak roared over the din. "Hull breaches on decks nine and ten! Emergency force fields holding—barely!"
"Helm, evasive pattern Omega!" Vann snapped, gripping the armrests of her chair. "Keep us out of their firing arcs!"
Cole's hands flew over the helm controls. "Trying, Captain! But the gravity shear from that rupture is pulling us in!"
On the viewscreen, the Undine ship unleashed another bioplasmic blast. The green energy lance struck the Borg sphere dead centre, ripping it open like a tin can. Chunks of Borg hull spun away, venting plasma and drones into the void. But the Collective didn't die quietly—emerald beams lashed out, scoring deep wounds across the Undine's organic hull.
"They're tearing each other apart," Rios said, bracing against the railing. "But if either one wins—"
"They'll turn on us," Vann finished grimly. "Tactical—target the Borg's weapon emitters. If they can't fire, they can't assimilate."
"Firing!" Jorak barked. The Horizon spat phaser fire and quantum torpedoes, carving glowing scars across the sphere's flank. One emitter exploded in a burst of green flame—but the retaliation was immediate. A cutting beam slashed across the Horizon's shields, sending the ship spinning.
"Shields down!" Jorak shouted. "One more hit like that and we're space dust!"
"Captain!" T'Lenn's voice cut through the chaos. "The rupture is destabilising. If it collapses while we are within range—"
"It'll tear this entire system apart," Vann said. Her antennae angled forward. "Helm—get us clear of the anomaly!"
"Negative!" Cole yelled. "The gravity shear's too strong—we're caught in its pull, I'm struggling to keep us at this distance!"
On the viewscreen, the Undine ship pivoted, its bioplasmic nodes glowing brighter than ever. It wasn't aiming at the Borg this time.
"It's targeting us!" Jorak roared.
"Brace for impact!" Vann shouted.
The Undine fired—but the beam didn't hit. At the last second, the Borg sphere intercepted the shot, its hull disintegrating in a blinding explosion. The shockwave slammed into the Horizon, hurling the ship like a leaf in a hurricane. Consoles exploded. The lights died.
When the glare faded, the Borg sphere was gone—shattered into a drifting graveyard of wreckage. The Undine ship hung in the void, wounded but alive, its bioluminescent veins pulsing like a heartbeat. And then, without warning, it turned and dove back into the rupture. The anomaly flared—and collapsed, leaving only silence.
The bridge was a ruin of smoke and flickering lights. Rios pulled himself upright, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead. "Status?"
"Hull integrity at thirty percent. Warp drive offline, we're on emergency power," Jorak rasped.
"Casualties?" Vann asked, her voice like steel.
"Multiple," Daxan said over comms, her tone grim. "But we're alive."
Rios stared at the empty space where the rupture had been. "The Undine… they weren't here for us. They were here for the Borg."
"And they'll be back," Vann said coldly. "Next time, we might not be so lucky."
The stars shimmered on the viewscreen—cold, distant, and full of promises that now felt like warnings.
The Horizon limped through the black, her hull scarred and her warp core barely holding at impulse power. The stars outside the viewport were cold and distant, offering no comfort. Inside, the bridge was a ruin of scorched panels and flickering lights. The acrid tang of burnt circuitry clung to the air.
Rios stood at the tactical console, his uniform torn and streaked with soot. His hands still trembled—not from fear, but from the adrenaline crash that followed survival. He had faced the Borg. He had seen Species 8472 with his own eyes. And somehow, they were still alive.
But at what cost?
"Casualty report," Captain Vann said, her voice like steel despite the exhaustion etched into her features.
"Seventeen confirmed dead," Jorak replied grimly. "Dozens injured. Decks nine through twelve are sealed off. We've lost two shuttles and three-quarters of our torpedo stores."
"And the colony?" Rios asked quietly.
T'Lenn looked up from her console, her expression unreadable. "Vega Colony sustained catastrophic damage. Ninety percent of the population is unaccounted for. Borg assimilation was… extensive."
The words hit like a photon torpedo to the gut. Rios gripped the railing, his knuckles white. He had led the away team. He had promised those colonists they'd make it out. And yet, most hadn't.
Vann's antennae angled toward him. "Commander Rios. Report."
He swallowed hard. "We secured five hundred survivors and all of the colony's data. That's all we could reach before the Borg closed in."
Her icy gaze lingered on him for a long moment. "You did what you could," she said finally. "But Starfleet Command will want answers. About the Borg. About the Undine. About why Vega fell."
Rios nodded, but the words barely registered. All he could hear was the echo of the colonist's voice in the shelter: They're taking people. Turning them into—
He turned to the viewport, staring at the endless dark. The stars had always called to him, bright and full of promise. Now they felt like silent judges.
Captain's Ready Room
The door hissed shut behind him. Vann stood by the viewport, her reflection framed by the shattered remains of the Vega system.
"You froze," she said without turning. Her voice was calm, but it cut like a blade.
Rios stiffened. "Ma'am?"
"On the surface. When the heavy drone advanced, you hesitated for two seconds. I saw it in the recordings in the after-action reports."
Rios clenched his fists. "I—"
"You recovered," she said, finally facing him. "You saved lives. But hesitation gets people killed, Commander. Out here, command isn't about being brave. It's about being decisive."
He met her gaze, his jaw tight. "Understood."
"Good," she said, her tone softening by a fraction. "Because this was just the beginning. The Borg are adapting. The Undine seem to be moving into our space. And Starfleet is going to need officers who can make the hard calls."
She stepped closer, her antennae angling forward like twin blades. "Can you be that officer, Rios? Or do I need to request a replacement XO before we reach Spacedock?"
The question hung in the air. Rios felt like he was now holding a photon torpedo's deadman's switch.
Rios didn't flinch. "I can be that officer, Captain."
Her eyes searched his for a long moment. Then she nodded once. "We'll see."
The stars shimmered beyond the viewport, cold and distant. For the first time, Talen Rios understood what they really were—not promises, but tests. And the next one was already on its way.