Resistance is futile (standard:science fiction, 1083 words)
Author: Robert G Moons	Added: Jan 21 2013	Views/Reads: 4672/1926	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Star Trek TNG fan fiction.

It's approximately fourteen years after the Battle of Wolf 359. Stardate
57498.8. The location is the Delta Quadrant, near a desolate sector on 
the outer rim. 

A Borg Cube detects a space anomaly on their long-range scans, and heads
toward it at warp 9.9. The energy spike had been very high, so this 
disturbance in their space needed to be investigated immediately. 

The massive cube ship was the largest and most powerful vessel in the
Galaxy. Its ability to quickly analyze and adapt was its greatest 
advantage. Combined with its ability to function even when badly 
damaged, and then rapidly repair itself made the cube ship virtually 
impossible to destroy. The Federation learned this fact at Wolf 359 
when too many of their fleet had been so easily destroyed by just one 
such ship. 

When the Borg reached the location they witnessed a whirlpool-like
swirling mass of black and dark-grey that had formed within the vast 
emptiness of space. It was a space fold, a dimension of nothingness. A 
dimension without time and mass that linked one part of space with 
another, and it was large enough to allow something as immense as a 
small moon through its black centre. 

What came through the hole in space was totally unexpected by the Borg.
They witnessed the monster as it slowly exited the dark mass. It was a 
thing right from the deepest, darkest recesses of whatever was the 
equivalent of a Borg Hell (if there was such a thing). No words could 
have given justice to this horror. It drifted out into space-time like 
a colossal ghost ship. 

The alien vessel was enormous, dwarfing the Borg Cube by comparison. It
had a dull, slate-grey colour, and was roughly spherical in shape. It 
had many dozens of spine-like protrusions coming out of its central 
core, but they weren't all the same length. Some were only half the 
length of the longest, giving the thing a chaotic, disquieting look. 
Its core was small in comparison to the diameter of its spines, and 
gave off a pulsating red glow, almost heart-like in manifestation. 

But the strangest thing of all was that it didn't even look real.
Stationary, the horror seemed to vibrate all over, and every couple of 
seconds, it would slightly shift from one position to another – left, 
right, forward, back. 

Although the Borg's instruments were all in optimal working order, the
distortions and shifting patterns coming from the ship made getting a 
positive lock on it almost impossible. It seemed to shift between 
dimensions. Also, their scans of the alien ship came back with very 
little data – a virtual impossibility by Borg standards. 

Any other species would have been extremely apprehensive at such an
encounter, but not the Borg. Whether it was the machine part of them, 
their arrogance, or a little of both is unknown, but their initial 
communication was the same as it had been for countless other absorbed 
races. 

"We are the Borg. Surrender your ship. We will add your biological and
technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to 
service us. Resistance is futile." 

There came back no reply. It was as if the leviathan wasn't even aware
of the Borg, or unconcerned about the small, metal cube next to them. 

The alien vessel had no shields to prevent teleportation, so the Borg
sent in dozens of drones to capture the ship. Once teleported within 
the strange ship, neuro-processor links between the individual drones 
and the Hive were immediately cut off. With the loss of contact, there 
was no way to retrieve the ship boarding drones, and no way to know 
what was transpiring within their soon to be acquisition. It never 
occurred to them that they were no longer among the living. 

The Borg sent in dozens of more drones, but the result was the same.
After a third attempt, they realized that continuing this course of 
action was indeed futile. 

Next, they used a powerful plasma beam on the silent ship in an attempt


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