“Patient is stable.”  Doctor Jordan Reid reported the status as she stood in the operating theatre in her surgery uniform. The nurse checked the seals on the gloves and her helmet, giving her a thumbs up.  Doctors Sergio Clemente, Leopold Halsey, and Helena Dread were similarly outfitted.  An array of nurses, orderlies, and medical crewmen had filed into the room and stood next to their commanding officer.  The patient, Niner, had been sedated, secured, and prepped.

Dread stepped forward, her voice linked into the communicators in the helmets of all the operating theatre staff and the bridge, where Captain Peter Crawford sat, waiting.  “We’re going to begin the procedure now.  As discussed, we’re going to take this slowly and steadily.  Communicate with each team as you go, repeating orders and requests as needed.”  She looked around the room, “Start the clock.”  The red numbers in the corner of the room flickered on, and they began their precious and sacred work.

“You seem worried, Ensign Soojin.”  Chief Counselor Milton Ford leaned on the doorway into her office, a cup of chilled tea in his hands.

Samantha Soojin pursed her lips.  “It’s the Borg, Commander Ford.”  She’d stayed clear of the shuttle bay when the drone had been escorted aboard for the procedure, and she’d avoided being near sickbay once he’d been transferred there.  She remembered the units of study they had done on the mechanical monsters in the academy.  It had given her nightmares.  It threatened to do the same again.

“It’s Doc Ford, as I’ve been reminding you.”  He sipped at his drink, “He’s not a Borg…he’s more machine now than man – nothing special.”

Sam narrowed her eyes at him, “What do you mean…nothing special?”

Milton pushed off the doorway and slipped into the chair across from her, “If he was still in the clutches of the Borg Collective, this would be a lot harder.  For one, there’d be a lot more screamin’, shoutin’, and shootin’.  The machine part of him…there’s a good chance we can separate the man and the mechanical.”

She wondered, “Do you think he can be saved?”

Ford chuckled, “I’ll tell ya something, Ensign. Some of the best medical doctors in the business are in that operating room.  Saving him isn’t going to be an issue.  Letting him go if they can’t save him will be the challenge.

Are you thinking of the Mackenzie? Tir’s voice was soft in his mind, which was unusual.

“What do you want, Tir?”

What says I want something? Her voice sounded hurt, and he was struck by the unusual manner of her words once more.

“You’re…acting odd.”  He sat back on the couch, “I was thinking about the Mackenzie.  The Delta Quadrant wasn’t kind to us the last time we were there.”

She revisited the memories, stirring emotions in his. I remember.  Lots of pain.  I’ve been thinking…we need to get a girlfriend.

“The hell?”  He sat up, his face flashing hot at the embarrassment of the sudden swerve in conversation.

Or a boyfriend – I’m not particular.

He shook his head, “But I am.  What’s brought this on?”  She was silent, but he could feel her in his stomach.  The feeling she was experiencing was… loneliness?

It’s…not easy being green.  He could feel her mirth at the inside joke from old Earth history.  Something about a frog and a pig being married.  She turned serious, You and I share a lot, Calog.  You haven’t had a relationship in a long time…and I don’t know if you read your symbiont owner’s manual…but we need to feel things, too.

“I think you’re overstating it a bit, Tir.”  He could sense that she was attempting to equivocate.  “Or maybe a little more than a bit.”

Fine.  I’ll admit to the charges as long as you admit that you need to find someone to do…some things with.

Calog’s face reddened again, and he fell flat on the couch, “I’m not admitting anything…this is just about the weirdest conversation I’ve had with you.”  She flashed a few memories through his mind, and he amended, “Fine.  It’s in the top ten.”  He felt her warmth as Tir smiled.  “I’ll work on it. I suppose you’ve already got a list ready for me?”

This is my shocked face, Calog.  And yes.  I do.

“You’re a regular matchmaker, Tir.”

As long as you let me sing ‘Matchmaker’ while we do this.

He sighed, exasperated, “Fine.”

“Twelve hours.”  Dread leaned against the wall in the office next door to the operating room.  “I hope we got it right.”  

Reid finished the notes on the PADD, “We’ll have to wait for the swelling in his brain and everything else to calm down before we take a chance at waking him up.”  She handed the PADD to Helena, “I’ve got the first watch.”

Dread accepted the PADD, “You did good work today, Doctor Reid.  You worked well with the team, managed the chaos, and got his heart restarted twice.”

Jordan shook her head, “It’ll all be for nothing if we lose him on the way.”  She sat back in the chair, “I know…I know.  Take the win – that’s your motto.  It’s just not that easy for me yet.”

Helena scoffed, “I didn’t say it was easy, Jordan.  It’s never easy.  I make a choice every time I walk out of an operating room.  I choose to fight like hell to believe in the wins and that there’s more where that came from.  Wins are my superpower…and I want to be on fire with them.  Because when the losses come…my fire doesn’t go out.”

Reid finished, “Because you burn bright.”

The XO smiled thinly, “The name Dread means something when you hear it – not because I’m a bastard…but because that fire never goes out no matter how dark it gets.”

Reid saluted Helena with her cup, “But you are a bastard sometimes.”

Dread chuckled, “Gotta keep up the reputation, Doctor Reid.  Good night.”

Jordan stood and stretched as she exited the office to go to intensive care, where her patient lay.  She would need to feed her fire coffee and lots of it.