Jonathan Keller involuntarily held his breath as he stepped onto the transporter pad, eyes open, every muscle coiled to spring into action.
As someone who started his career as part of a hazard team and had several years as Chief Security Officer under his belt, he expected an immediate escalation of the situation upon their arrival.
He glanced at his away team – men and women he trusted and knew well – finding they seemed to anticipate the same. Their weapons were raised, their focus sharp, ready to react to whatever lay ahead.
Keller was certain that he wasn’t the only one who expected them to be swarmed by armed guards the moment they materialised on the ISS Asklepios.
Finally, his vision cleared and his feet once more stood on solid ground. But instead of the chaos he had braced for, they were greeted by a charged silence. The bridge was dimly lit, the air heavy with the metallic tinge of oxidised metal from the ageing consoles that lined the back of the room, and instead of a hostile welcome committee, it was deserted – except for the one pilot they had previously spoken to, a young man who stared at the Starfleet officers with wide eyes and trembling hands.
Keller exhaled. But he didn’t make the mistake of letting his guard down.
“Anderson, Ra’lah, secure the bridge.” he said calmly, nodding at the two men to his right, before he turned to the others. “Una, Hann, check the ship’s system, check for any hidden defence protocols, and make sure their shields and weapons remain powered down.”
Then, he glanced at Nichelle, who was standing a few feet to his side. He had given her the clear instruction to remain out of immediate danger, and she was already not following them. Keller felt an uncalled for frustration rise within him, hot and suffocating,
“Behind me.”, he hissed, with more venom in his voice than he had meant to.
He felt justified in his reaction – but only for a moment. He might have found solace in his hatred for Nichelle – the doctor who had failed to save his wife – but was acutely aware that the same woman had been her best friend. Ricarda would kill him if something happened to her.
“Please.”, he added, a little more softly this time, before turning his attention to the pilot. Erek was his name, he remembered.
“Get up.”, he said, his voice once more firm, fixing him with a cold gaze, and lowering his weapon just enough to not appear too threatening – but threatening enough.
Erek turned pale, stammered something, but eventually relented. He almost stumbled as he got up, as if the support of the chair was all that had kept him from falling apart. He staggered backwards, eyes never leaving Keller, and pressed himself with his back against the nearest console. It was a satisfying display, Keller found.
“Now, tell me what happened.”, he demanded. “Why are you alone on the bridge?”
The thought that Erek was more than he let on crossed Keller’s mind, but he dismissed it.
“The… I… ” Erek started, then paused as if trying to get his thoughts into order – or his story. “There was an issue with one of the Borg-”
“People! They are people!” Nichelle piped up from behind Keller, her tone betraying the emotion behind the statement. Keller clenched his wrist, then released it again. He couldn’t fault her for being angry, and now wasn’t the right time to fault her for speaking up.
Erek’s eyes flickered over to Nichelle, then lowered. “Yeah.. Those. It’s… it’s easier to think of them as Borg, you know?” He paused, then continued. “One of them went crazy. I don’t know how it happened, I heard someone injected them with adrenaline instead of a sedative. It… he… started attacking people.”
Keller remained quiet – an interrogation technique he found to be effective. It coerced the other person to talk more and fill the uncomfortable silence.
“I thought… this is my chance. I sent the broadcast, and just hoped that someone would receive it, and…”, Erek said quietly, his voice a whisper that barely rose above the hum of the console behind him.
Keller pressed on. “What happened then?”
“The Captain got injured. We brought her to her quarters. Mahok and some guards took a shuttle. They left.”, he said, recounting the events.
“Who is Mahok?”, asked Keller, narrowing his eyes as he noted the change in Erek’s speech pattern.
“He was the… Captain’s right hand. They… sort of… worked together.”, Erek said after a moment of hesitation.
“So your Captain is alive?”, Keller demanded to know.
“Yes, she’s in the Captain’s quarters. Got badly-… she got hurt. Shot, I think?”, Erek said vaguely.
“The Captain. “, muttered Nichelle. For a split second, Keller found his irritation rise again, but then he understood what she was getting at.
“Does your Captain have a name?”, he asked, deceivingly casually.
Erek’s gave a vague nod, but several seconds passed until he spoke. “Yes.. yes of course. Uh. Alice. That’s her name, Captain Alice.”
Keller allowed a frown to etch his features. He hadn’t quite believed the man’s account of events, but now, he was even more doubtful. He was too hesitant, especially for someone who claimed to have sent the broadcast.
At the very least, he expected him to know his Captain’s name.
“Bring him back to the Callisto. Brig.”, he told Hann. They could interrogate him later.
Erek’s looked up, his eyes wide with fear, but he didn’t say anything, and Keller was satisfied to leave it at that. He turned to his remaining officers. “We move as one. I have the feeling this will not be as straightforward as we’d like it to be.”