Devils in the Dust (novelette)

By Nathan Warner

Searching for a missing Archaeological team on a remote planet near the boundaries of the Delta Quadrant, Captain Rogers and her crew find a horrific secret that could destroy the Universe.

“Report?” Captain Angelica Rogers demanded. The vibrations in her chair had become a little too pronounced to ignore any longer, and she was holding up her coffee to prevent a spill. At the helm, Lt. Sandra Druthers nodded slightly. These atmospheric maneuvers were always hair-razing with the Defiant Class due to its maneuverability, but this planet’s unique properties upped the game considerably.

“We’re passing through the dust layer in the planet’s Stratosphere now,” she said, “and it’s playing havoc with the inertial dampers.”

“No kidding,” Rogers replied, wryly. “Well, this Captain would appreciate if you could keep her coffee in her cup and out of her lap.” At that moment, the U.S.S. Resilient shuddered and pitched a few degrees to starboard. Roger’s coffee leapt from her cup and somersaulted to the deck, narrowly missing Lt. Sam Kerry at Operations. Rogers stared mournfully at the mess. The spill was bad enough, but the precious liquid had splashed all over her hand on its way to the gravity plating.

“Sandra!” Rogers groaned, trying to shake off the hot liquid before it burned.

“Sorry, Sir!” Druthers said. “I think we’re through the worst of it – should be smooth sailing from here on in.”

“It’s a little late, Lieutenant!” Rogers said, trying to shake the coffee from her hand and sleeve. She held the cup up for Crewman Mitchel to remove. She waved him away as soon as he’d taken possession of it, and tried desperately to ignore the puddle beside her chair. “Just keep us in one piece,” she managed to grumble, squeezing at her nose-bridge, desperately trying to make her caffeine headache vanish.

It was 0600 hours and she was still feeling the lack of sleep from her all-night vigil playing cat-and-mouse with a raiding party in the Pekian Asteroid Cloud – an expansive, spherical field of magnetite rock that shrouded the outer reaches of the Pekian star system, which was home to their mission: Celosia 6, a mysterious planet with enigmatic archaeological ruins that had become the secretive project of the famed archaeologist, Dr. Renea Budrous. Several weeks ago, Dr. Budrous’ team went silent, shortly after he’d sent a cryptic message to a colleague, saying he’d found something big – bigger than the Iconians, apparently. This was why the Resilient was out here near the borders of the Delta Quadrant.

They’d been tasked with investigating and reestablishing contact with the archaeological team. And just as they entered the outer limits of the system, two small Typhon gunboats had ambushed the Defiant class starship in the magnetite debris field – smugglers or pirates, hiding out in the labyrinth after having raided a convoy no doubt. Sensors were practically useless in there, and the pirates had the home-field advantage, having mapped the asteroid fields with precision. On slow impulse, the Resilient was practically on its hands and knees groping forward through the heavy interference from the rocks. Even though the Resilient far out-classed the gunboats, it couldn’t take the pounding of plasma weaponry forever. By 0400, the shields were down to 50%, and still the attacks continued. Rogers had given up returning fire hours ago as they were literally firing blind.

She knew they had to be nearing the end of the field soon, but would their shields hold out till then? She crossed the bridge to the Science Station. “So, all we can see on sensors is the magnetite, right?” she asked her Science Officer, Lt. Samantha Adamine.

“Correct, Captain,” the Lieutenant nodded. Rogers leaned over Adamine’s console.

“If we target the magnetite asteroids around us,” she asked, “can we break them down with weapons fire to create a magnetite cloud?” The ship shuddered under a new blast of weapons fire from starboard. They hardly noticed it.

“Yes,” Adamine said, tilting her head quizzically, “but why would you want to do that?”

“Couldn’t we detect a ship’s wake passing through the cloud as they disturbed the magnetite particles,” Rogers replied. Adamine nodded.

“Yes,” she said, pushing her chair back slightly, running her hand through her jet-black locks. “Yes, that could work!” It was enough for Rogers.

“Lt. Gower,” she called out to the Tactical Station, “target our phasers on all asteroids within 50km.”

“Sir?” Gower asked gruffly, his Klingon patience wearing thin at the battle within grasp, but evading him at every turn.

“Turn the rocks to dust, Lieutenant!” Rogers growled, “And have photon torpedoes and pulse phasers standing by to swat down our friends out there!”

“Aye, Sir,” Gower replied with a toothy grin. He tapped away at his console for a second, before turning back. “Ready, Captain.”

“Fire!” Rogers commanded.

Arcs of red phaser fire lashed out against the space rocks, atomizing them into a dense dust cloud. In less than thirty seconds, Adamine was picking something up on sensors.

“Sir, there’s a disturbance in the Magnetite cloud to port,” she said, pausing as the sensors resolved it. “Captain, we have two objects inbound bearing 15 degrees to port!”

“Did you hear that, Gower?” Rogers asked.

“Loud and clear,” Gower replied with a little more relish than a Starfleet Officer should normally musters.

“Closing to 10km!” Adamine commented.

“Fire at will!” Rogers said.

At that moment the Resilient looked like the same helpless, hapless ship it had been for the last 6 hours to the wedge-shaped gunboats that were streaking in on their impulse drives. Behind and above their four-person cockpits, a large, inset plasma pod glowed with a hundred barrels of energy eager to discharge. Like Radna rats toying with a blind Grishna cat, they were circling in as close as possible. Suddenly, there was a flash of light from the Federation vessel – photon torpedoes arching out of the starship! Was it another pointless shot in the dark? No such luck. The torpedoes plowed into the gunboats, overloading their shields and causing the plasma buildup in their weapons to detonate. The Resilient was rocked hard to starboard from the combined explosions of the two ships.

“Got the vermin!” Gower grinned. “We are in the clear, Captain.” Rogers let a deep breath out slowly.

“Very well,” she said, turning back to the Con, “Lt. Druthers, continue on a course through this debris field. We have a schedule to keep.” Under the guidance of the capable helmsman, the Resilient weaved through the maze of natural mineral condensate. The nimble starship dove and ducked around the larger rocks, while the deflector managed to blow the rest out of its path.

An hour or so later, the Resilient emerged from the Pekian Asteroid Cloud into the outer reaches of the Pekian star system.

“Captain, we’re in,” Druthers announced from the helm. Rogers sighed.

“About time,” she muttered, looking to the screen. “Let’s see it.” The blank wall ahead blinked to reveal a stunning sight – a bright central jewel with a cadre of lesser lights scattered around it like impure gems. Rogers counted them. “Sixteen planets,” she said aloud, “but which one is Celosia 6?”

With a few taps at the Science Station console, Adamine highlighted one of the planets on the screen and the view centered on it. Rogers nodded to herself. It looked about the right distance from the system’s sun to be in the outer reaches of the “habitable zone.” That would certainly match the report from the archaeologist team a few months ago that had stated the air of Celosia 6 was low in oxygen. The planet also reportedly lacked water and the temperatures were cold, but the pressure and gravity were perfect. Rogers shivered. In the light of the star, Celosia 6 looked cold.

“First thing’s first,” she said, rising from her chair. “Scan for vessels.” The Con beeped under Druthers' fingers, and the Defiant class' powerful sensor array reached out and interrogated every object in the system.

“I’m not picking anything up, Sir,” she reported, “except the archaeological station in orbit of Celosia 6.” That would be the Orbital Support Station - standard issue for a small team working for an extended time planet-side. These were the sort of small, satellite bases that old Oberth class ships still towed to research sites.

“Hail the team,” Rogers followed up. A few moments passed, allowing for mortal fingers to do their work. Nothing.

“Sorry, Sir,” Druthers replied, “but if the archaeological team is in this system, they’re not answering.” Rogers sighed. The team’s silence could mean anything (faulty comm gear, too far underground, etc.), but naturally her mind went to the worst-case scenarios in any situation.

“Very well, establish orbit, Lieutenant,” she said, and then turned to Gower at Tactical. “Keep us at Red Alert until we’re safety parked at Celosia 6.” Gower nodded appreciatively. It was a wise tactical decision, and he approved wholeheartedly, even as he secretly hoped they’d be attacked to afford them a more satisfactory battle than the last one.

The Defiant class starship slipped past the outer planets on its way inbound like a wolf intent on smaller game in the herd. The huge gas giants were regally arrayed in scintillating ice crystals. They looked like the sorts of planets that had immense value for scientific missions, but not of much interest to a search and rescue operation. As the Resilient pulled into orbit of Celosia 6, they located the archaeology team’s support station in its designated orbit. It was little more than a two-deck satellite that provided modern amenities, beds, and some research labs.

“Knock on the door again,” Rogers ordered. Druthers plied the Comms system.

“No one’s home,” she replied, “and all systems appear to be hibernating.”

“Life signs?” Rogers asked Adamine.

“None, Captain,” she reported irritably, frustrated that she couldn't give her Captain any helpful information.

“How about planet-side?” Rogers asked, running her hand through her jet-black hair. Adamine hesitated as she interrogated her console.

“I…I’m not sure,” she said. “We’re getting a lot of interference from the upper atmosphere.”

“Cause?” Rogers frowned.

“There seems to be a layer of suspended magnetite dust in the stratosphere,” Adamine reported, “and it is reflecting our scans.” Given the high levels of magnetite in the system, it probably made sense - probably due to incoming asteroids from the Pekian Cloud.

“Is this recent or did it show up in the original survey of Celosia 6?” Rogers asked.

“I'm seeing that it did appear in the original planet survey from the Midas probe 10 years ago,” Adamine said, “but not at these levels. Something has recently altered its composition, making it opaque.”

“Well, we’re blind on this side of it,” Rogers reflected. She stared at the planet’s innocent blue tinge, trying to decide the next course of action.

“Can we transport through it?” she asked, fearing the answer. Adamine shook her head.

“Not unless you want to rematerialize as clam chowder,” she said. Rogers leaned back in her chair and felt suddenly a little queasy – the last time she’d replicated clam chowder, the clams had tasted like rubber marinated in milk powder. There were some things Replicators still had a lot of ground to cover. Given the situation, they'd have to take a shuttle below e Stratosphere to see what lay beneath.

“Commander Richter?” she called, tapping her comm panel, and reaching down to Engineering.

“Richter, here,” the Commander replied. He had been assisting the repairs to the damage from the battle earlier. It was only minor stuff, but the big German's detail-oriented nature couldn't leave loose ends untied.

“We’ve just met Celosia 6,” Rogers told him, “and it looks like we’re going to need to get below the atmosphere the old fashioned way to find the archaeological team.”

“Want me to take a shuttle?” Richter asked, reluctant to leave anything unfinished in Engineering.

“If its not too much trouble,” Rogers answered.

“I’ll take a team – leaving now,” Richter replied. Despite his promptness, a few more minutes elapsed before their second-best shuttlecraft, the Retrieve, fell away from the Resilient – dropping down towards the mysterious globe until it was a small dot, like a grain of dust floating in front of a lamp. Suddenly, it lit like an ember as it brushed the ionosphere, descending on its course. A second later, the Con lit up with alarms.

“Report?” Rogers demanded.

“Captain, there’s a problem!” Druthers said reading the feed from the sensors. “The Retrieve is losing structural integrity and its electrical systems are failing!” Rogers rose sharply from her seat.

“Rogers to Richter!” she bellowed, loudly enough that even if there wasn't a comm system, he'd probably have heard her. The line flooded with static, unable to carry a reply, if there was one. She turned on the Con. “Beam them out of there!” she cried.

“I can’t get a lock, Captain!” Druthers responded, frantically tapping every prompt she thought might make it possible. “There’s too much interference from the Magnetite.” Everyone fixed their gaze to the screen, helplessly watching as the seconds wove a tragedy beyond their aid. The little spark in the atmosphere was still visible, flickering like a shooting-star burning to its death. But then, something changed. Rogers stared intently. Had she imagined the faint, little light was rising? No, it was rising!

“He’s pulling out!” she cried, stepping towards the screen.

“Confirmed, Captain, the Retrieve has recovered!” Druthers reported, and then her console beeped again. “Receiving a hail from Commander Richter.”

“Put him through!” Rogers breathed relief, filtering through her. The screen blinked, revealing the smoke-filled cabin of the type 10 shuttlecraft. Richter’s dark frame peered into the light. His thick hair a mess from the rough ride.

“That went well,” he smiled sarcastically through a cough.

“What happened, Otto?” she asked, just happy he was alive.

“There’s no getting through that Stratosphere,” he replied. “It literally shorted our circuits – a dampening field on steroids.” Rogers sank back in her seat. This was bad news.

“Can you get back under your own power?” she asked. Richter nodded.

“Just,” he said, analyzing the impulse engine's remaining juice. “See you in a minute.” The screen blinked back to the planet. Rogers sighed and turned to the Science Station.

“Adamine, see to it that Richter makes it back safety and find out what this dampening field is,” she commanded. “I’m taking a team to the station to see if there’s any clues about the archeological team.”

“Yes, Sir,” Adamine replied as she vacated her post for the Shuttlebay.

Rogers headed to the Transporter room. A few minutes after the Resilient drifted into the night side of Celosia 6, Rogers, Lt. Druthers, and Lt. Gower beamed to the satellite. She was really hoping the archeologists weren't over there, simply because they'd have to be dead.

This and worse thoughts careened through Rogers’ mind as the transporter beam deposited her to the satellite. Instantly, those thoughts were struck out of her head by the cold air hitting her hard in the face. And they’d beamed into blackness on top of that!

“Someone find the environmental controls and the lights!” she yelled, frantically pulling out her Tricorder and putting it on the task.

“Found them!” Gower grunted, tapping alive a nearby console. In response, the overhead lighting popped on and air began moving through the circulation system. Still, it would take a few minutes for the heat to rise to normal levels, and Rogers had to rub her hands together to keep them warm. She could see her breath!. The place was definitely in hibernation mode – highly unusual for a working Orbital Support Station that was supposed to play home to archaeologists every night. Things weren’t looking good for a happy ending. Rogers took in Level 1 of the station. In front of her, there was a long conference and work table with a large presentation screen at the far end. Behind her, a replicator kitchen and lab took up the rest of the space.

“A little too cozy for my comfort,” Druthers mumbled as she crossed to the mainframe’s port. “I’ll start downloading the computer core for analysis back on the Resilient.” Rogers nodded.

“Sounds good,” she said. “Gower and I will check out Deck 2.” While she was speaking, Gower had found a ladder next to the replicator that sunk down through a hole in the deck into darkness.

“After you,” Rogers gestured. Gower grunted appreciatively. As Chief of Security and Tactical Officer, he appreciated being allowed to do his job. Following him down the ladder, Rogers landed in the blackness next to Gower. Deck 2 had remained dark for some reason – the lighting appeared to be malfunctioning.

Gower clicked his light on and shined the beam down the hallway, which was broken by 6 open doorways. Down this way, they peered into the lifeless crew quarters. The rooms were tidy, un-lived-in, and there were unopened suitcases still lying on the beds unpacked. It looked like the team had hardly spent any time here!

Roger’s communicator chirped. “Captain, I’ve downloaded the core,” Druthers reported. That was fast! There must not have been much on it.

“Understood,” Rogers shivered. “We’re just about done down here. Beam back to the Resilient, and we'll follow shortly.” There was literally nothing of interest on this station, and that was puzzling. She turned to Gower.

“Are we clear?” she asked. Gower reluctantly nodded.

“Confirmed,” he said, casting a final disapproving glance over the empty rooms as if some ghost or changeling was waiting to jump out at him as soon as he turned his back. Rogers understood the feeling. This mission was starting to creep her out.

Thankfully, when she called for transport, they were snatched back "home" in a shimmer of light without incidence. Rogers breathed a sigh of relief on the Transporter pad as the warmth of the Resilient soaked into her again. Crewman Mitchel stepped forward from behind his console - he seemed to be getting around today! That was good experience for a young man clearly intent on becoming more.

“Captain, Lt. Druthers is ready to brief you on the…” Mitchel began, but Rogers raised her hand, silencing him.

“First thing’s first,” she said, tapping her communicator. “Lt. Adamine?” Almost instantly, Adamine replied from the Bridge.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Replicate me a cup of coffee on the double – extra hot!” Rogers said, sharing a smile with Mitchel. "Thanks, Crewman," she nodded to him, heading out the transporter room. In the hallway, she tried unsuccessfully to suppress a shiver. Even in the Turbolift, she was thawing too slowly for comfort. But her heart warmed a little as she stepped onto the Bridge to the sound of the replicator’s whine and straight into a cup of steaming coffee.

“You’re a life-saver!” Rogers said, gently taking the brew from Adamine. The cup began to radiate warmth into her hands. She would have preferred to have a few moments alone - just her and her coffee, but just then, Druthers stepped onto the Bridge from the other side.

“Captain, I’ve uploaded the station’s sensor records,” she said crossing to the Science Station, oblivious to her Captain's sigh at the interruption.

“What did you find?” Rogers asked vaguely, more intently focused on her coffee at the moment.

“You’ll find it interesting,” Druthers said with an assurance that irritated Rogers.

The Lieutenant punched at the console and pulled up the data. “It looks like the planet had a visitor,” she said. An image of a glowing cylindrical object popped up on the screen.

“What is it?” Rogers asked, genuinely interested.

“No idea,” Druthers replied. “Perhaps a probe of some kind. But whatever it was, the station's sensor logs show that it penetrated the ionosphere and detonated a molecular pulse through the Stratosphere, which is why the we found the atmosphere's characteristics were altered from the survey data. It also looks like this tampering with the planet's Stratosphere happens regularly.” Rogers ran her warm cup over her nose-bridge. Alien interference could explain the missing team.

At that moment, Richter stepped onto the Bridge and stooped behind them at the Science Station - hovering. Rogers hated when he did that.

"By all means, Otto, if you have something to say, spill it," she said irritably. He stiffened only slightly.

“Captain, I’ve finished my analysis of the shuttlecraft,” he reported. Rogers nodded to the science station.

“Show me,” she said, standing aside to make room.

“Well, based on the chemical analysis of the shuttle’s hull, this ‘dust’ layer in the atmosphere has an unusual energy dampening effect,” he said, pulling up the report. “This seems to be responsible for what shut down my circuitry.”

“Can we get through it?” Rogers asked.

“I think so,” Richter said, “but we’ve only got one play.”

“And that is?”

“We’ll have to land the ship,” he replied. Adamine and Druthers turned in disbelief.

“You mean the Resilient?” Rogers asked in surprise. Richter nodded.

“We have enough power to break through with minimal energy loss,” he said. “I’m confident it will work.” Rogers stared at the screen, soaking in her first officer’s recommendation. She took a deep breath and took a deeper draft of her coffee.

“Okay, let’s do it,” she said, psyching herself up. “Druthers, take the helm.” The Lieutenant hesitated for a moment and then hurried forward and slipped into her seat at the Con. The excitement and fear was palpable. Rogers crossed to her chair and settled in, trying to prepare herself for what she was about to do. She opened a channel to the ship.

“This is your Captain speaking,” she announced, clearing her throat. “Prepare to land the ship.” She looked up to Druthers.

“Take us in, Lieutenant,” she said. Druthers, stretched her arms in reply.

“Aye, aye,” she replied excietedly, cracking her neck and gently settling her hands on her console. Rogers smiled – it struck her like a concert pianist preparing for a solo performance. And then Druthers fingers tried to coax the ship into motion. At her command, the Resilient stretched forward towards Celosia 6.

“Shields and Deflector to maximum,” Rogers commanded as the ionosphere dragged at the ship, and then asked, “ETA to impact with the Stratosphere?”

“Ten seconds,” Druthers replied tensely. Rogers began counting the seconds, but she’d only gotten to “2” when the ship began shaking in turbulence. She raised her cup up, trying to keep her coffee from spilling. Suddenly, the Resilient bucked wildly to starboard and her coffee landed on the deck as the Resilient continued plowing through the Stratosphere.

"Sandra!" she cried, wiping the hot liquid off her arm before it burned her. Thankfully, Crewman Mitchel was nearby, and he eagerly took jurisdiction over the mess. She nodded her appreciation. Good help was hard to come by these days!

Pressing her sleep-deprived headache, and biting her lip, she held on to her armrests for life. The ship shook and shuddered under the load, but more alarmingly, the lights on the bridge dimmed and alarms were lighting up on every console.

“Sir, we’re experiencing a massive power drain!” Adamine cried from the Science Station, watching the reports flood across her screen.

“Shields down to 25%!” Gower bellowed, close on her heels. Everywhere, screens were flashing, trying to stay up under the drain.

“Inertial dampers failing!” Druthers added to the litany of havoc. But before Rogers could reply, the ship righted itself as it punched down below the dust layer and everything returned to normal.

“Report?” Rogers demanded, shifting more upright in her seat.

“We’re through the dampening field, Sir,” Druthers returned, “and we’re now getting a visual on the planet’s surface.”

“Let’s see it,” Rogers said. The screen blipped in reply and everyone on the Bridge stole a glance at Celosia 6 unmasked.

“It’s night!” Richter exclaimed. This might not have seemed all that odd, except they were on the day-side of Celosia 6. The dust in the atmosphere was blocking out much of the solar radiation from reaching the planet’s surface. While mortal eyes remained blind to the planet's secrets, the sensor pallets on the Defiant saw all. And as if in answer to everyone's curiosity, Adamine transferred her station's readout to the Viewscreen, sharing the sight with the Bridge Crew.

“As you can see, sensors aren't picking up any vegetation, down there," she said, referring to the data filtering to the side of the screen. "It’s just one big desert. Aside from some mountain ranges, the surface of the planet appears to be covered in some sort of silicon granules.” Rogers nodded approval, remembering reading about this unique geological feature in the archaeological team’s report. They had planned to follow up with a more detailed analysis before they went missing.

“Life signs?” Rogers asked, hoping against hope that the Stratospheric dust was a simple answer to the problem of the missing archaeologists.

“None, Sir,” Druthers replied disappointingly from the Con. Rogers shook her head - this mission refused to go down easy!

“Is it possible there could be any interference from the silicon particles?” she asked.

“It is possible,” Adamine replied, skeptically, “but unlikely.” Rogers noticeably sank into her chair. This was shaping up to be a “hearse-run.” Many had been the times during the Dominion War when she’d been tasked with recovering fallen officers from distant battlefields, which had always meant contending with the ghosts of the dead. They were the furthest memories from the pleasant.

“What are the coordinates of the team’s last known position?” she asked, with a heaviness in her voice. She could hear Adamine hurriedly calling up information from the database.

“Uh, it looks like northern hemisphere at 45Lat, 23Lon,” she summarized from her screen.

“Take us there,” Rogers ordered. Druthers entered the new coordinates, but the view of emptiness didn't reflect the change as the Defiant class starship banked to claim its new heading. There was something disorienting about that.

“We will be passing into the night side of Celosia 6, for your information, Captain,” Richter mentioned from where he stood peeking over Adamine’s screen. Not that it mattered! The whole planet was cloaked in night. And ghosts in nighttime were the worst kind.

She glanced up at the screen to see darkness. To the unaided eye, the empty blackness was disorienting to the soul.

“Overlay background EMF,” she said softly – so softly, she worried Adamine may not have heard her, but before she could repeat it, the screen blinked to show topographical readings, which gave much needed form to the planet shrouded in darkness. Following it up, an infrared panel was added, showing very faint solar heat still radiating from the deserts – almost undetectable. There really wasn’t much radiation reaching the surface! But with the Resilient's sensitive array, she could still make out ripples of dunes and valleys of sand, wrapping thousands of miles around the planet.

“Sir?” Adamine began from her station and then trailed off.

“Yes, Lieutenant, what do you have?” Rogers asked. Adamine hesitated to continue, still waiting for more data to confirm what the sensors were reading.

“It…it looks like I’m picking up some vegetation after all,” she said in surprise.

“What kind of vegetation?” Rogers asked in surprise. Adamine shook her head.

“It appears to be grassland,” she continued. “About 1-mile square.”

“Like an oasis,” Richter smiled. He'd once visited a rare Mudrab oasis on Vulcan, and the romance of the veritable eden standing against the desert had always impressed him. He bent over Adamine's console. “This Oasis just happens to also be at the coordinates of the archeological dig,” he said, musing on the significance. He tapped a few prompts to interrogate more of the phenomenon. “I’m reading a number of ancient ruins scattered through the grassland," he reported. "They appear to be some sort of levitating pyramidal structures.”

“Levitating?” Rogers asked. Richter shrugged his shoulders.

“What can I say, Captain,” he answered, “they appear to be floating about 100 feet above the ground in a circular pattern around the central point of the Oasis.”

Almost on top of him, Adamine called out some new info. "Sir, I'm detecting the Archaeologist's Runabout near the furthest edge of the structures," she reported.

This had to be it – the site where Dr. Budrous had gone missing.

“Lt. Druthers, scan for a suitable landing sight,” Rogers ordered. The obvious choice was in the Oasis, but out in the desert could also do if need be. It all depended on geological stability, which Druthers was surely determining with the sensors now.

“Ready when you are, Sir,” Druthers replied eagerly. “We’ll be putting down in the middle of those structures in 1 minute.” Rogers smiled at her efficiency.

“Very well, begin the landing cycle,” she said. Druthers prompted the landing subroutine. With a few taps to her console, the ship took command of the situation. Rogers could feel the deck shiver slightly as the four landing pads extended out past the ventral hull plating. She could almost feel the antigravity thrusters come online to manage their descent. On screen, a false-color image of the oasis was rapidly approaching them. The Resilient slowed to meet it, under the control of the automated landing cycle. The ship deftly maneuvered itself inline with the two nearest floating monuments, adjusting its trajectory to pass safely between them. As they did so, the lights on the bridge dimmed momentarily.

“Report!” Rogers called, fearing a power loss – the worst possible thing to happen when you were hovering over solid earth.

“We appear to have passed through a faint dampening field, Sir,” Adamine answered.

“Another dampening field?” Rogers asked. “What is causing it?” Richter turned from Adamine’s screen.

“It looks like it is emanating from the monuments themselves,” he said. “Some sort of ancient array that is projecting a field to the perimeter of the Oasis.” Rogers nodded, taking in the condition of her Bridge. They didn’t seem to be in any further danger, so she filed the information away for later and returned her attention to the situation at hand – landing a mighty starship!

Outside, thrusters fired to position them perfectly to the landing coordinates – the vectored thrust blew up dust and vapor trails through the tall grasses. As the ship stretched out its legs to meet the earth, Rogers attention snapped to the screen. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw someone standing down below them in the dark – a ghostly figure of a woman made of infrared radiation and background EMF, but then when she squinted at the screen, they were gone. Even if it had just been a play of the dust and mists, it hadn’t put her in a better mindset. But before she could dwell further on the apparition, the ship touched down with a sharp jolt, getting everyone’s attention.

“Score!” Druthers cried from the Con, raising her arms up in victory. She turned with a contagious grin to look at her Captain. “I’ve always wanted to land this beast!” she said.

“Well, at least someone’s enjoying themselves,” Rogers smiled tolerantly, brushing her disheveled locks out of her face. Secretly, she had also always wanted an excuse to exercise her ship’s unique ability. She stood up from her seat and prepared for the next step in this mission.

“Alright, everyone, you all know why we're here - we’re looking for Dr. Renea Budrous and his 5-man archeological team,” she said. “Druthers, Adamine, and Gower with me – we’ll investigate the ruins here in this oasis. Richter, you have the Bridge. Try to modulate our shields to handle those dampening fields on exit – we don’t want to be stranded here. Also, be sure to set a Security watch at all access points to the ship. I want everyone heavily armed. We have no idea what happened here.” Richter just smiled and nodded to his Captain’s running list – all items he already was taking care of.

“Just remember your suits,” he said half-mockingly. Rogers paused on her way off the Bridge. She’d almost forgot that the planet didn’t exactly have a human-friendly atmosphere. The temperature alone was around zero, which meant the grass must have adapted somehow. “EVA suits are probably overkill,” Adamine shrugged, not really wanting to squeeze into a full space-suit. “I think Respirators and sub-zero wear would probably do just fine.”

Rogers agreed. “Alright, let’s do it!”

In less than 10 minutes, the four-person team had taken the turbolift to the starboard landing well where an EVA station was conveniently located. They suited up quickly.

“I’m already burning up!” Druthers huffed, unzipping her jacket and prancing excitedly in her tactical boots. It wasn’t every day you got to go on a hunt for some missing people on a creepy cold, dead planet with a mysterious patch of grass among some creepy old ruins. “If they are dead, do you think there’ll be any skeletons?” she asked, following up on her own thoughts.

“Honestly, Lieutenant, did you leave your filter in your quarters today?” Rogers asked in disbelief. She rubbed the thought out of her temple, but images of newly deposited remains kept burning through her memory – she’d seen more than she’d ever care to admit.

Druthers stiffened. Her Captain’s tone sobered her up a bit. “Sorry…Sir,” she stammered and closed her mouth before she blabbered about how it was probably just excitement and nerves crossing wires in her brain.

“Okay,” Rogers said, lifting her phaser rifle in one hand and pocketing her Tricorder with the other. “Adamine, Gower, are you ready?”

The big Klingon turned around to reveal he was carrying the new experimental Modular Utility Tactical Tool or MUTT. It had the backend of a phaser rifle, but a large, blunt, rectangular module from the pistol grip forward, which was capable of producing 360 degree forcefields, EMF interference, deep-earth scans, and resonance bursts for starters, not to mention, powerful phaser and plasma blasts. It was a multi-purpose, modular “swiss-army-knife” innovation that had only recently come down from the Starfleet labs. Rogers shook her head at how fondly Gower was clutching it. “Well, someone is going all out today,” she said. Gower was completely aware of his Captain’s motherly disapproval, but he cradled his weapon all the more fondly.

Adamine, meanwhile had just finished retrofitting her new Tricorder to interface with Gower’s “canon.” She could actively utilize some of his functionality, even while he was using it for other purposes. She was smiling at the options this was giving her. “What will the come up with next?” she grinned.

“I’ll assume you all remember you’re Starfleet officers and not a gaggle of day-schoolers on a fieldtrip?” Rogers asked. Everyone stepped into line. “Good,” she continued, fitting her respirator, “now let’s get underway, shall we?” Tapping her code into a panel, the hatch slid open and she stepped into the empty well left by the extended starboard landing pad. It was a fairly large room with warning decals the only adornment over the cold Duranium. Rogers had actually never been in here before. Only a few steps from the door, a large, lit opening sank through the floor down to the grass below. The ship’s landing lights illuminated the outside brightly. They could already sense the cold air outside as they stepped up. From the ceiling mount, a thick mechanical strut had unfolded and extended down through the opening, reaching out a 10-foot diameter pad to touch the earth below. Rogers strode to the strut and found the built-in ladder that would take them down.

“Alright, this is it,” she said, taking the lead over Gower’s protests. One after another, they went down the rungs, 25 feet or so to ground. They reconvened on the pad – a small island in this alien oasis. The beautiful Defiant class starship hovered over them like a protective eagle over its nest. The entire party paused to take in the sight – few, if any of them had seen the Resilient like this before, and it was a truly inspiring view. Before Gower could stop her, Rogers stepped off the pad and sank up to her knees in the grass. She smiled at his disapproving grunt and pulled out her Tricorder while the others clambered off the landing pad next to her.

She scanned the grass, revealing it to be some sort of carbon-based plant – almost a sea plant. It appeared to require large amounts of water to survive, which was a good thing, because the only moisture on this planet was where they were standing. The sound of Adamine’s souped-up Tricorder firing up took everyone by surprise.

“Sorry,” she smiled, “I need to turn that volume down.” She swept the surrounding, analyzing the massive amounts of data that fed through her device. “Captain, I’ve located the archaeological team’s Runabout near a shaft opening a quarter mile ahead from here,” she reported. “It is probable that this is the dig site.”

“You kids and your fancy gadgets have to ruin all the mystery,” Rogers said throwing her hands up mockingly. “Why do we even need to go anywhere? Your Tricorders and hand-canons ought to tell us everything we need to know from here!” Adamine turned to Gower and rolled her eyes.

“By all means, Lieutenant," Rogers said, adjusting her mask over her grin, "take us where we ought to go.”

The team trudged forward, out from under the belly of the Resilient. Rogers glanced back more than once, and she could see the security team coming down the struts to post a watch. Above, she could now see the starboard Bussard collector, casting an eerie orange glow in the sky. Back to earth, the ground was soft and manageable. Suddenly, a gust of wind brought some water. It was raining!

They trudged along until the Runabout came into sight. Adamine was the first to reach it.

“It’s gutted!” she said in disbelief. Rogers shined her light on the burned-out hull. The vehicle was completely decimated. She passed her Tricorder over the vessel and bent her brow over the readings.

“Phaser blasts?” she questioned aloud. Adamine was on it.

“They’re Type-4 phaser residue – Federation signature,” she commented. Rogers reflected on it. These were mounted phasers used for carving through rock for one thing – standard issue for archaeologists.

Great, she thought, one of our archaeologists has gone psycho. She wasn't the only one thinking it and Gower proved it.

“We appear to have a problem among the archaeologists,” he said, clutching his rifle more closely.

“It’s strange,” Druther reflected, ducking out from inside the shuttle. “Someone took a phaser to every console in here.” Rogers didn’t like the sound of that. Something strange had happened here.

“Let’s move on,” she said. A few hundred feet from the Roundabout, they came to a ruined structure of stone with a large passageway sinking down into the ground. They stood around the opening shining their lights down into the passage. Adamine scanned the site.

“It levels out about a hundred feet down,” she said. “There appears to be a large chamber.” This time, Rogers hung back. She gestured to Gower.

“After you,” she said. With a pleased grunt, Gower raised his rifle and plunged down into the dark. The Away Team followed, shifting down the rock stone-way. The shadows flickered and fled under their lights. The team levelled out just as the pathway opened up into a huge chamber, black as pitch. They scanned their lights around revealing the architectural menagerie. Punching through the floor, obelisks stretched up like jagged teeth towards the ceiling. Sunken into the walls and the obelisks were alcoves, cut out of stone, perhaps where statues or idols had been honored. This seemed to be a religious site, or perhaps governmental. Rogers noted an acrid smell in the air.

“Over here,” Druthers said, motioning with her Tricorder towards the right side of the chamber. Gower took point and led through the maze of obelisks. Shadows jumped and retreated from their lights. The Tricorders led them to a squat obelisk near the chamber’s side-wall, and as they rounded it, they stopped short. There, at their feet, 5 skeletal remains lay twisted in various postures of pain – all the flesh had been vaporized, but their charred bones remained.

“Well, that would explain why we haven’t heard from them,” Adamine said. “A Phaser set on high level did this at point-blank range.”

“Where’s the 6th team member?” Druthers asked. Rogers nodded. That had been her immediate question, and in order to answer that, they needed to know more about these corpses.

“Get genetic scans of these 5 remains and link to the ship’s database,” she said. “We have the medical files of the archaeological team, so that will tell us who’s not here.” Adamine ran a detailed scan of the remains and stepped aside to link to the ship.

On the Resilient, Commander Richter fielded Adamine’s request. “That’s some pretty crazy stuff,” he said, looking at the visual scans of the bodies. I’ll link this with Sickbay’s records and we’ll get an answer to you in a couple minutes, Richter out.” He transferred the data and stiffened. It was time to check in with the security teams.

“Richter to Owens,” he called.

“Owens here,” came the reply from the team lead, posted near the starboard landing strut.

“How are things looking?” Richter asked.

“Everything’s black as night and calm as glass,” Owens replied, “but there is a wind just starting to kick up. I sent Crewman Mitchel to check out the parameter of the Oasis and get a sample of that sand. He should be back shortly.”

“Very good. Keep me informed,” Richter returned.

At that moment, Crewman Mitchel had reached the end of the grassy oasis. Sand stretched out as far as the eye could see. He stepped out into the sand and felt like he was passing through an invisible membrane, like a sheet of water. At the same moment, his Tricorder died.

“What the…?” he said, giving it a hard knock. He took a couple steps forward further into the sand and his Tricorder rebooted, coming back from the grave. His first course of action was to run a self-diagnostic. The fusion power-cell had been drained! It was only now coming back. Mitchel turned around and scanned the edge of the oasis. Sure enough, he could detect a faint dampening field like an invisible curtain rising up from the edge of the oasis.

“Must be the dampening field they were talking about,” he mused aloud, remembering bits and pieces of the debriefing Owens had given them all. He hadn’t really been paying the best attention as he was struggling through the hangover from the Romulan ale his bunkmate had convinced him to try last night. Suddenly, the wind seemed to pick up from the desert and the sand began to be blown around. Mitchel could feel it scattering around his boots. He pulled out a vial and knelt to scoop some of the granules up. He had just capped it and put it away when a strong gust pelted his face. The feeling of sand took him back to last year on Risa when he was on leave walking the beach in a warm wind with his friends. He shielded his face from the sand and looked out across the desert. He could almost imagine this was a beach and just beyond that dune was an ocean.

A sharp pain shot through his neck and he swatted at it. “Man, I must have slept wrong,” he muttered. He straightened with a sigh. But before he could turn, strange thoughts began seeping into his mind. He suddenly felt an intense desire to walk out further to that dune and see what was on the other side. Mitchel dropped his Tricorder and stumbled off across the night sands, sleep-walking into the desert. In 5 minutes, he’d trudged to the base of the dune, but instead of climbing it, he just stopped at the foot of its dark shadow and stood motionless, in a daze, swaying like he was in a trance. At his feet, the sand began to shift, and slowly but surely, Mitchel began sinking. He sank down, inch by inch, unmoving, unaware of what was happening, until the desert swallowed him whole.

Around this time, Richter was sending the Away Team the results of the DNA match.

“It looks like the Doc himself is the missing man,” he said gravely. “We were able to match the remains to the other 5 team members.”

“Thanks, Commander,” Adamine replied, turning to her Captain who was staring intently at the posed body of one of the scientists. She crossed close to her and leaned in. “Captain, it appears that Dr. Budrous is the responsible party,” she whispered. Rogers stiffened.

“Very well,” she said, “let’s find him. We’ll have to come back for the remains later.” Transporters weren’t going to cut through this magnetite structure – it was a miracle communication was even possible!

“Sir, I think I’ve found the Doctor,” Druthers motioned at their feet. “His DNA is concentrated here at this smudge against the rock.”

“What do you mean?” Rogers asked. Druthers shrugged her shoulders.

“It looks like he vaporized himself,” she said. Rogers scanned the spot herself.

“I understand the evidence might lead us to conclude he was vaporized,” she said, analyzing the data. Indeed, it was too much DNA for a body to part with willingly and it was mutated from a high energy blast. “But how do you come to the conclusion that he did it to himself?” she asked.

“Well, there’s residual duranium composites mixed in,” Druthers replied. Rogers confirmed her analysis. That changed everything! Five members of the archaeological team were vaporized, and the 6th member, shot himself. Thoughts of psychological pathogens filled her mind as she glanced anxiously at her Away Team. They appeared to be behaving normally.

“Captain, check this out!” Adamine called. She had walked to the wall and had been shining her light back and forth across it. Rogers joined her and together they stared at a small emitter of some kind, sunk into the wall.

“There's a sophisticated, if somewhat antiquated computer core built into this stone,” Adamine commented. "It dates to almost a thousand years ago." Rogers reached forward to touch the optical lens, but as she did so, it flickered alive. A cold light cast out onto the floor, and from the shimmering circle, a hologram of a humanoid slowly rose up before them. Rogers and Admaine had stepped back in surprise, even as Druthers and Gower bumped into them from behind.

"What is it?" Druthers gasped. Before anyone could render a guess, the hologram completed. It was a woman clothed in a soft silver robe that shimmered in the projection. Her eyes were silver also and she had a pleasant face, but very sad, which softened her somewhat elongated skull behind.

Looking at them with unseeing eyes, the hologram bowed slightly.

“My name is Malanti," it said, "and I am the voice of of this planet - the record of what has happened here." The projection gestured around the room, first left and then right.

Rogers stepped forward.

"Greetings," she began, "we are explorers from the United Federation of Planets. We come..." Seemingly oblivious to the overture, "Malanti" continued, interrupting the Captain.

"A thousand years past," she said, "we, the Bilar birthed Borgene – meaning 'One out of many' or 'Great one from the many small.' We gave it life to enter our bodies and heal our sick and infirm – little helpers to assist us with our many tasks. But an enemy of my people, Salvant the Deceiver, told the Borgene lies - told them we had enslaved them to serve us. He told them they needed to be free and claim their own destiny. Because of this, Borgene turned on us and the Great War began. We used terrible weapons to try ending the bloodshed, horrible weapons that killed billions and billions of Borgene. But nothing we did could stop them. They adapted to everything we did to them. They grew and grew over us. The small grains that we had given life spread into a desert that drowned our world. They changed the face of our planet into the face of its image, covering all, consuming all. With new hatred for the biological because of what we had done to them, the Borgene hunted us down. It absorbed our way of life and our technology. It enslaved us. It butchered our people. It changed us. It made us Bilar and Borgene.

"A few of us fled our world in ships before it infected us – before our Bilar was made slave to Borgene. The Borgene used our many ships to launch our enslaved brethren into the cosmos to do its bidding. Those of us who remained free prepared our revenge. We attacked their ships and destroyed them – most of them - perhaps some got away. We then brought asteroids from the astral shell and cast them to the earth." Malanti's face filled with sorrow.

"Alas," she continued, "we destroyed our world to try and destroy them. But no matter what we did, we could not kill them all. At last, with might of mind as well as arms, we sacrificed our ships in the asteroid dust of the atmosphere, creating a wall that would prevent the Borgene from crossing. A wall that drained them of their power. Never again would they leave this planet to spread their death and destruction in the universe. We used our last crippled ship to land here and create this island of defiance against the Borgene. I am the last of our kind." Malanti paused and looked directly into Rogers' eyes. It sent a chill through her. Whoever had programmed this hologram had poured themselves into it to try and retain their people's identity.

"I have walked the boundaries and seen the the dessert," she continued. "My creators entrusted me with protecting their memories from the Borgene. You are not Borgene, therefore, I permitted your entry."

Rogers thought back to the "figure" she thought she had seen when they landed - that was probably Malanti's projection.

Of course! Malanti had weakened the dampening field to allow the Resilient through to land - to share her people's story! She was this ancient computer's sentinel, tasked with monitoring the boundaries of the Oasis! Malanti fixed Rogers in her gaze with a sudden urgency.

"Beware your danger - the desert is hungry," she said, breaking into Roger's thoughts with a dire warning, "and remember us, if you can.” The projection bowed respectfully and the hologram flickered, fading into the dark cavern.

"Wait!" Rogers called after it. "Can you tell us what happened here to our friends?" But the last gleam left them alone, and only silence answered her. She looked around at the once great architectural ruins. What had happened here? It sounded like something out of a nightmare. Adamine shined her light down by her feet and then stepped back.

“Captain, look!” she cried.

Rogers glanced down. She was standing on part of a word etched into the rock. Stepping back, she could see that it was the name of the “thing” the Bilar apparently created: B-O-R-G-E-N-E. But whoever from the archeological team had written the word, they had then crossed out some letters. Suddenly it jumped out at her: B-O-R-G-----.

A panic flooded through her. Did that mean what she thought it meant. She stepped back another foot and spun around, casting her light around the room, taking in all the evidence anew. Could the small lifeform that the hologram described be a nanite? Was the “infection” and “enslavement” of the Bilar some sort of early precursor to Assimilation?

In that instant, it struck her how much the Malanti hologram resembled descriptions of the Borg Queen herself, which every Starfleet Officer learned in detail in the first year of Xenobiology at the Academy. Rogers' light fell on the “alcoves” recessed into the walls and it suddenly all clicked.

“Everyone, back to the ship!” she bellowed. “Make your weapons ready!” Not needing an explanation, the Away Team scurried through the obelisks trying to find their way back to the passageway that led to the surface. Rogers kept a brisk pace, but held back the panic filling her mind. It all made sense. Celosia 6 could very well be the origin story of the Borg, so near the Delta Quadrant.

Celosia 6 WAS the proto-planet of the Borg! She thought, hardly containing the words. What a tragedy! This society gave life and sentience to nanites – microscopic lifeforms communicating and thinking as one – tasked with keeping the Bilar whole and healthy, perhaps even unnaturally extending life. But someone or something caused them to turn on their makers. They linked together in a new purpose, forming the first neural link with their own motives! And then, they did what they were designed to do, but now for their own ends – they entered the Bilar and assimilated them! They enslaved the biology they had been designed to serve, creating the first hive-mind! The micro conquered the macro. The unseen became the seen, and saw the universe through its eyes! And then they sent ambassadors into the cosmos, which must have survived the battle with the Bilar. It was probable that the neural link was damaged and their memory engrams were destroyed. Which is why the Borg don’t know about this place! They don’t remember their own beginning!

What a terrifying twist! All that silicon “sand” out there, covering the entire planet, wasn’t sand at all – they were hibernating nanites!

Of course! Rogers thought. One of Dr. Budrous’ team must have explored the dunes and been “infected” or assimilated. The biomolecular energy of that unfortunate person probably woke the nanites!

And while the nanites themselves probably couldn’t pass the boundaries of the dampening fields, a person infected with them could make it across, since they were the energy source to sustain them! The unfortunate victim probably returned to the archaeological dig more Borg than man. And in all likelihood, they began infecting the other team members, one by one. Dr. Budrous probably stumbled on what was happening too late. He was forced to kill his team members, and then as he realized he himself had been infected, left a warning for whoever would come looking for him before killing himself and the last of the activated nanites. And he destroyed the Runabout, so the nanites wouldn’t be able to attempt leaving the planet! In a ship, they might have been able to penetrate the dampening field in the Stratosphere! And the Stratosphere! It had been seeded with a magnetite dust layer, which cut out most of the solar radiation – a possible energy source for the nanites, plunging Celosia 6 in perpetual night and robbing them of life!

Rogers shook her head in disbelief. What an amazing discovery this planet was, and yet how terrifying and deadly! If she was right, Dr Budrous had learned its secret at the price of his own life, and the life of his team. Rogers glanced at her own team. She wasn’t going to let the same fate befall them!

She tapped her communicator. “Richter, come in!” she bellowed.

“Richter here, Captain, what’s the prob…?” he began, but Rogers cut him off.

“No time to explain, Commander,” she yelled. “We have an imminent threat to the ship and the crew! Is everyone accounted for on the Resilient?”

“Well, actually, Crewman Mitchel was supposed to report back 15 minutes ago from sampling the desert,” Richter responded, “and we can’t seem to locate him. I was about to send out a search team.”

“No, get everyone inside the ship!” she ordered. “We may be dealing with a Borg threat down here.”

“The Borg?” Richter replied in disbelief.

“No time to explain,” Rogers snapped. “Just get the ship ready for takeoff!” At that moment the team heard explosions aboveground. “What’s going on up there, Otto?” she called.

“Hold on a second,” Richter answered, clearly checking sensors. “It looks like phaser blasts, Captain! Someone is targeting the Oasis’ dampening field generated by the levitating monuments.”

That has to be Mitchel, Rogers thought. “Stop them at whatever cost!” she yelled.

At that moment, Malanti re-materialized beside Rogers. Her gaze was filled with rage. "You brought destruction, not friendship!" she cried, raising her hand as if she would strike the Captain. "You betrayed me!" Before Gower could throw himself between them, a massive explosion shook the ground and dirt rained down on them from the ceiling. Malanti cowered as the debris fell around her, and then her program flickered and began fading from sight.

"No!" she screamed, clutching her head. "You cannot have us!" She vanished, and at the same moment the comm system went dead.

"The main computer must have gone down!" Adamine called out through the rumbling. "Those levitating structures outside must have also served as the energy cells for the Bilar computer." If they were being destroyed by weapon's fire, the computer's life-blood was draining away. The whole situation was tragic, but Rogers didn't have time to reflect on a great cultural memory being snuffed out. She pressed her team forward another dozen feet until they shuffled to the passageway’s opening.

The ground began rumbling. It had a different feeling from from the shaking they'd experienced before. Rogers raised her phaser rifle. If the dampening field was down, the nanites were probably feeding off the bioelectrical energy of the grass. That meant a tsunami of nanites were being energized and would be flooding this little oasis in minutes.

“Gower, can you generate a 70 gigawatt forcefield with that thing?” she asked pointing to the MUTT he was holding. The device had been built with Borg adaptive technology, which Starfleet had “appropriated,” and it might just save the day. Gower grinned.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, raising it up. “What am I going to hold back?”

“The entire desert,” she replied, evenly. He paused to see if she was serious. But he could see her jaw was set, and that was enough for him.

“Aye, Captain,” he replied. “One 70 Gigawatt forcefield coming up.” As he set the parameters on the MUTT, Rogers peered to the opening a hundred feet up the sloping floor. Adamine had her Tricorder out and was taking readings.

“Captain,” she reported, “I’m picking up what appears to be some sort of…nanotechnology making its way down the passageway towards us.” Even as she was speaking, Rogers could see what appeared to be sand grains skipping down the stone tiles – nanite communities large enough to be visible to the naked eye!

“Now, Gower!” she yelled. “Now!”

The big Klingon finished tapping in the parameters to the console, and aimed the MUTT up the passage. Suddenly, with a loud sonic boom, a projected wall of green energy flickered forward, conforming to the dimensions of the room. It leapt from the weapon up the passageway, pushing back anything not rooted into the earth up to twenty feet from them. Rogers felt a little better, but how were they going to make it to the ship?

“Adamine, can you program the MUTT to encircle us in a forcefield?” she yelled above the noise. Adamine pondered the request, pursing her lips in thought.

“Yes,” she replied, “yes, I think I can!”

“Do it!” Rogers ordered, stepping up beside Gower. The “sand” was now pouring down the passage to them, filling up against the transparent, shimmering wall of the forcefield. “Let’s start moving forward, shall we!” she said. Gower took a step forward and the forcefield jumped forward with him, violently tossing back the sand grains up the passageway. As if in anger, the sand began to seethe like a living organism, shimmering and hissing. It picked itself up – a small dune rising from the floor – and then flung itself at the forcefield. The impact pushed Gower back a little – like the recoil of an old 20th century firearm, but everything held firm. That worried Rogers. In all likelihood, they were going to be dealing with much worse at the surface! She tried her communicator again, but nothing came through. The nanites must be jamming the signal! She thought.

“Let’s keep moving!” she yelled. Gower took another step forward and another – pushing the nanites back towards the surface. Each time they attempted to regroup and batter the field, Gower stepped up and blasted them back. In only a few minutes, the forcefield had reached the opening to the surface.

“Adamine?” Rogers asked impatiently.

“Almost there, Captain,” she muttered, frantically programming her Tricorder. Behind her, Druthers was looking back down the passageway towards the chamber. Her Tricorder was lighting up.

“We’ve got company down there!” she said. “I’m detecting nanites infiltrating through cracks in the dome!” Rogers turned to Adamine.

“I know you like to cross all your t’s, but I’d really appreciate even half that forcefield right now, Sam!” she said evenly.

“Got it!” Adamine yelled in triumph, and then turned as if realizing someone had been talking to her. “Were you saying something, Captain?”

Before Rogers could comment, a forcefield popped up behind them projecting from the MUTT to fill the passage dimensions. And not a moment too soon! Seconds after it went up, it shimmered sporadically to reveal particles bounced back from impacting it.

“Okay, good for the moment,” Rogers said, wiping her brow. “Now, what about the rest of our little box?”

“As soon as we step out from this passageway, the MUTT will project the other faces of the field to complete our cover,” Adamine said, “so that leaves the ground we’re walking on.” Rogers hadn’t thought of that. There was a very high probability that some nanites would be so close to ground that they’d make it in under the forcefield.

“We could always activate the dampening field capability of the MUTT,” Druthers mentioned drily from where she stood watching the nanites attack their rear quarter.

“This thing can generate a dampening field?” Rogers asked in disbelief.

“Absolutely!” Gower replied with unmasked pride. “And at the same time too!”

“Alright,” Rogers nodded. “Let’s do it – We’re still running risks here, but it’s our only play. Chances are we’re going to need medical attention before this is over, anyways, assuming the ship is still waiting for us!” She hoped Richter had activated the ship’s shields and lifted off before the nanites got too far.

They finished programing the dampening field into the MUTT just as more nanites flooded into the opening. Arching up like a scorpion tail, the tiny living granules prepared to hammer the green glowing barrier between them and Gower. He activated the dampening field – a painful whine pulsed through the air for a moment and the menacing shape of nanites in front of them lost their cohesion, falling like ocean spray back to the earth.

“I’m sorry, was that too much for you?” Gower roared, mocking the paralyzed little nanites, now powerless against the field.

“Move!” Rogers barked. In a tight tactical pose, Gower pushed the forcefield forward and they emerged into the open. The sight that met their eyes was unbelievable. The oasis was all but gone! Everywhere, dunes like ocean waves washed over the ground, consuming the last amounts of biological energy they could find to keep themselves going. The air was thick with nanite dust rushing in the wind of the artificial sandstorm. In the distance, the team could see the last remaining monument levitating over the Oasis.

“Look!” Druthers cried. They watched in horror as it crumbled into powder, pulled from the sky by a sinuous limb – literally an arm of coordinating nanites, reaching 150ft into the air to tear it down. With his phaser rifle, Crewman Mitchel’s had delivered the final blow to this planet! Rogers peered through the billowing clouds of silicon, but she had no idea if he was still out there, or if Richter had successfully stopped him. And speaking of Richter, a faint glow above the clouds told where the Resilient was hovering, probably trying to penetrate through the nanite interference to grab transporter locks on the Away Team.

We’re going to help you with that! Rogers thought. She turned back to the team and realized everyone was a little overwhelmed with what they were seeing.

“Keep it together!” she bellowed. “Gower, move us forward! Druthers, keep an eye for any cracks in the field!” The team snapped into action. Step by step, they made their way forward, the forcefield forming a clean, flickering rectangle of energy around them. They’d made it about 200ft before the nanites became completely aware of them. Suddenly, dunes as far as half a mile away turned and rushed in on them like tidal waves growing larger in a choppy sea.

“Run!” Rogers yelled. The team surged forward, covering as much ground as they could, knocking the nanites unconscious that surged around them. The waves grew closer, looming near from all sides. They were at least 30ft high!

“Halt!” Rogers commanded. “Hold our position here, and brace for impact!” Gower knelt checking the power settings on the MUTT.

“Captain, we have about 2 minutes left before we run out of juice!” he yelled. Rogers nodded. It was going to be close – doable, but close! The dunes arched up over their heads and fell with the weight of the desert, pounding them. Sputtering under the blows, the forcefield held up, but only just! The good news was that every wave that fell on them was neutralized by the dampening field – the bad news was the stunned nanites were piling up around them, walling them in. The onslaught only lasted 30 second, but it felt like it was never going to end. When the lull came, Rogers seized the moment.

“We have to keep moving!” she yelled, pushing her team onward. They clambered up the dunes, their winter-wear keeping the nanites from their bodies. Chances were high they’d get infected before this was over, but Rogers was hoping that by the time it became an issue she’d be in sickbay. For the moment, they were making great headway, and were almost below the ship. She tried her Communicator but the signal was still being reflected back by the nanites in the air. It was time to play their last card.

“Okay, let’s take position here,” she said, dismantling her Tricorder. “Adamine, Druthers, I need your power supplies. We need as much juice as we can muster to power the MUTT. Rogers waited impatiently for the lieutenants to hand over the cells.

Suddenly, right in front of them, the sands parted and a figure strode straight into the forcefield. Everyone jumped in surprise as the field crackled and sputtered against the attack. The figure swayed back from the impact. Rogers caught only a dark silhouette at first, but slowly it took shape as the nanites cleared from the dampening field.

“Crewman, Mitchel!” she exclaimed. If there was anything left of him, it was so deeply suppressed that it couldn’t hear her. His eyes had been altered – dark pupils consuming his iris like a black hole staring back at them. He was pale as death, and they could visibly see dark fluid flowing through his bulging veins. Across his skin, nanites crawled, covering his body, clothing him in scintillating shapes. He strode forward to the forcefield again. As he did, some of the nanites clinging to his body fell away like weakened magnets in the face of the MUTT’s dampening field. But in visible pain, he reached their position and raised his hand – the nanites surged along the surface of his arm, congregating in his palm where they began to construct some sort of interface.

“They’re using his body as energy!” Druthers cried, answering everyone’s unspoken question about why the dampening field wasn’t stopping them. Rogers could see the terror flickering in everyone’s face at the sight of what had become of Mitchel. It was horrific, and worse for them, the nanites were using Mitchel to break down the forcefield. Rogers stepped forward to the green wall of energy that kept them apart.

“Mitchel!” she barked, “Crewman 1st class, report for duty!” The “drone” didn’t take any notice of her at first. After a few seconds, it turned its head to her. Rogers shivered. She could feel the soulless thoughts of a billion minds watching her through those blank, dead eyes. As the nanites continued their labor on his palm, the drone spoke. Rogers recoiled from the sound of many voices coming through his altered vocal cords. The effect was made all the more disturbing by the nanites clinging to his body, which shivered and pulsed to his words. And beyond them, at a safe distance from the dampening field, Rogers could “see” the drone’s speech pulsating in the dancing particles, rising and falling in waves of silicon life. It was louder than the sea!

“You are biological,” the drone said, tilting its head as if analyzing her. “Species: Human. Sex: Female. Origin: Earth. You will service us, we will not service you.” The words sounded so familiar and yet so alien. The nanites had clearly accessed Richter’s memories to gain his information on human anatomy – how like the modern Borg! The creature looked next at Gower. The Klingon didn’t flinch under its gaze, but Rogers could see a snarl curling on his lip.

“Species: Unknown. Sex: Male. Origin: Unknown. You will be assimilated into us. Resistance is futile!” The Drone stretched its arm out and touched the finished device on its palm to the forcefield. The field crackled like fireworks, spurting and shivering as power drained from the it – drawn away up its arm. With the absorbed energy combating the dampening field, the nanites shivered with excitement and surged around Mitchel’s body, feeding on the energy coursing through him, preparing for the moment when the field collapsed and they would feast also on Rogers, Gower, Adamine, and Druthers. This was Rogers’ cue. She retreated beside Gower and crouched next to him. “Give me the MUTT,” she said evenly. Gower complied without question. Rogers hefted it in her hands and tapped alive the console that controlled its many applications. A few layers down in its applications, she found what she was looking for and selected it.

I sure hope this works, she thought, and then waited for the moment the dampening field would fail – along with the forcefield. It was already beginning to collapse all around them. Only seconds remained. She lifted the extra power cells, which she had rigged together into one large cell.

“I don’t want to kill you,” she yelled above the storm. “But we will defend ourselves with force, if necessary!”

The many voices passed through Mitchel and the nanites shivered in excitement: “Your force is irrelevant. Your resistance is futile. We will improve ourselves through you. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own.” And at that, the field collapsed in crackling sparks. The nanites surged. Rogers slapped the power cell into the MUTT and hit the prompt on the console. Instantly, a powerful EMF pulsed from the MUTT. The shockwave was intense. Rogers lost her hearing as she could literally see the rippling diameter of intense radiation spreading out from her, frying every silicon circuit and electrical system for nearly a mile.

The drone took the brunt of it, point-blank in the chest. It swayed as sparks and electrical discharges blew nanites from its body. Rogers stared into the drone’s face as the blackness fell from his eyes, returning to the green hue she’d known on her Bridge. It was Mitchel again! The young man saw her. He smiled and nodded what could have been a “thank-you” with every last once of life remaining in him before his spirit left and he collapsed backward into a bed of lifeless silicon. Rogers spared a brief moment to honor his death. But there was no more time to waste on ceremony.

“Resilient, come in!” she called, hoping beyond the stars that the interference was gone. They weren’t out of the storm yet. Sure, the EMF pulse had fried everything nearby, but it just as probably induced energy to the dormant nanites outside the blast radius. They could be converging any minute. Time was against them.

Suddenly, the Comms crackled.

“Captain, come in!” Richter’s voice pushed through the interference.

“We’re here, Otto – beneath the ship – beam us straight to sickbay!” Already, she was starting to feel a little discombobulated, like something was messing with her mind. She must have been infected! The thought was terrifying – something so small you couldn’t see it, messing around inside your body.

“Hold on,” Richter returned. In the distance, the Away Team could see a swell out in the desert approaching – though familiar now, no less horrifying. The tide was coming in! Rogers impatiently tapped her communicator again.

“Anytime, Commander…but right now would be really nice,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice calm. Like the ocean moving in on them, the roar of silicon nanites churning over each other in enormous waves deafened their surroundings. Rogers dropped the MUTT and stumbled back.

“Otto!” she yelled, under the shadow of the storm. And at that moment, the transporter beam came. She glanced back to see the rest of her team also being carried up by the beautiful shimmer of energy, moments before the wave of nanites crashed on their position. As everything went to white, she could tell her pattern was being held up in the buffer, but in the next moment, she materialized on the familiar pad of the good old Resilient. Gower, Adamine, and Druthers were waiting for her, smiling next to the transport station.

Rogers stepped down and instantly felt queasy. Gower stepped forward to help her down.

“Easy, Captain,” he growled. “You’ll need to take it slow for a bit!”

“How long have I been in suspension?” she asked, suddenly suspicious it was longer than a few extra seconds. Adamine stepped up.

“We were all in for a while, but you took the record, Captain,” she said.

“Well?” Rogers requested, still waiting for an answer. Dr. Bovian moved into her view. His harsh Tellerite features softened only by his gentle blue eyes.

“You had a very delicate synaptic link with a very unfriendly nanite in your cerebral cortex, Captain,” he explained. “It was ‘holding you hostage’, so to speak. And it has taken me 3 days of enhanced Transporter therapy to successfully remove it from your pattern without damaging your memory.” Rogers glanced around in a bit of a panic.

“Three days?” she cried. “Someone better brief me, right now! What’s our situation!” Dr. Bocian nodded his shaggy head of unusually blond hair. “Everything is okay,” he said, adjusting his augmented spectacles. “We are all quite safe. But we’ll need to keep you in Sickbay for a few hours.”

“I’m not going to sickbay!” Rogers raised her voice. “I feel fine!” Bocian ground his teeth. Rogers was an incredibly stubborn Captain, but then, weren’t they all?

“Very well,” he grumbled, against his better judgement, “I will release you, but only for bed-rest! Mr. Gower, please escort the Captain to her quarters.”

Very protectively, the large Klingon guided Rogers out of the Transporter Room and to a Turbolift. As soon as the doors were closed, Rogers turned to him.

“You know I’m not going to my quarters, don’t you?” she asked.

“Of course,” Gower smiled, turning to the computer. “Bridge.”

As the Turbolift went up one deck, Rogers took the time to steady her swirling mind and compose herself. On the Bridge, Commander Richter almost leapt from the command chair as she stepped cautiously through the doors. “Captain, it’s good to see you up and finally,” he began, but Rogers raised her hand to silence his segue straight into the facts. He stood stupidly in mid-sentence with his mouth half open as she crossed to the replicator.

“Coffee, double strong,” she huffed, breathing in the lovely smell as it materialized before her. “Okay, Otto,” she said, dangerously. “Now, you can tell me what you’ve been doing with my ship while I’ve been indisposed?” She crossed to her seat and sat down. From the viewscreen, she could see the Resilient was still in orbit of Celosia 6.

“Well, Captain,” Richter began, clearing his throat, “where to begin?”

“How about right after I lost consciousness,” she suggested, bending her dark eyebrows on him.

“Right!” he replied, easing up his collar, “Well, after I…I mean we, rescued you, we used our analysis of the dampening field in the Stratospheric dust cloud to effortlessly punch through into free space again. It was only then that I learned you were still in stuck in the Transporter buffer with the entire Away Team – the Biofilter had detected an ‘infection’ of parasitic nanites in your cerebral cortex. Dr. Bocian recommended we keep you all in suspension while he developed a treatment. In the meantime, we spent the next two days scrubbing the hull of any and all nanites – we found about 300 of the little sneakers and neutralized them, without any further casualties.” Rogers nodded her approval at his report so far and took a long draw on her coffee during the Commander’s pause.

“Don’t stop now,” she said. “It was just getting interesting.”

“Right,” Richter said, reoriented his mind. “Well, yesterday we began a polaron radiation sweep of the planet’s upper atmosphere to further enhance the dampening field in the Stratospheric dust cloud, but it proved unnecessary.” Rogers narrowed her eyes.

“How so?” she asked. Rather than answering he pointed to the Viewscreen.

“See for yourself,” he said. The screen amplified a small corner of the planet, where a mysterious cylindrical probe was hovering in the atmosphere.

“What is it?” Rogers asked, leaning forward to get a better look.

“We don’t know,” Richter replied, “but it is identical to the device imaged by the Archaeological Orbital Station. This isn’t the first one – they have been arriving in this system every 22 hours.”

“And just what are they doing?” Rogers followed up, a little disappointed Richter hadn’t volunteered that in his update. Richter turned to Adamine, who was comfortably hunched at her Science Station.

“Lieutenant, care to fill in the Captain?” he asked.

“Ah… yes, Sir,” she said, caught in the middle of obviously not paying attention to what he’d been saying, but she saw the probe on the screen and filled in the rest. “These probes are repairing the dampening field, Sir,” she explained, turning from her screen. “Every day, they arrive and shore it up, only to return to wherever they come from.”

“Someone out there knows about this place and the danger it possesses,” Richter commented. “Do you think it could be the Bilar?”

“Unlikely,” Gower replied. “They appear to have been entirely wiped out by this proto-Borg…thing.” Rogers wasn’t really listening. She was staring at the little probe out there, hovering like a hypospray, trying to shore up the immune system of the entire planet.

“It’s almost like a viral therapy – a recurring treatment for a disease that has no cure,” Rogers muttered. As if she hadn’t heard, Adamine continued with her report.

“By our calculations, even if the atmosphere remains untended, it should still keep the nanites contained to the planet’s surface for a century at least.”

“So, you’re saying we shouldn’t worry about it?” Rogers asked incredulously.

“We’ve taken precautions,” Richter replied.

“Like what, setting warning buoys around the planet?” Rogers asked, clearly not thinking this would be enough.

“Well, yes,” he admitted, “but we also set some long-endurance, monitoring probes in orbit to feed intel on the planet’s condition. Starfleet Command will be notified the moment anything changes.”

Rogers reluctantly nodded. “It sounds like you’ve all done a superb job handling this mess while I was away,” she said, watching as the alien probe ascended from the planet’s atmosphere. “And now, who wants to follow this little guy back home?” Druthers turned from the Con.

“Coordinates already entered, Captain,” she smiled.

“Very well, Lieutenant,” Rogers smiled. “Engage.” As the ship pivoted and shadowed the probe out of the Pekian Star System, Rogers sank back in her seat. She cast her gaze back towards the terrible planet that had claimed 7 lives, including one of her own. She felt a pang of regret that she couldn’t save Mitchel. She lowered her coffee mug and straightened in her chair. “Let the record show that we lost Crewman Mitchel in the line of duty – full commendation,” she said firmly. “I intend to recommend him for the Starfleet Medal of Honor.”

“No doubt he deserves it,” Richter nodded gravely. “Starfleet will also want a full report on the fate of the Celosia 6 Archeological Team. Do you feel up to writing it, or should I?” Rogers hesitated for a moment as the horror of what she’d just been through seemed still to hover over her. Although it was three days ago to most of the crew, to her, it was only minutes ago that she had seen the dread terror of the planet trying to drown her. She shivered faintly and shook the flood of thoughts from her head.

“I will write it – I must,” she said. “This is sadly a very personal one, but alas, history will want a clear record of it.” She stood, steadying herself for a moment against her chair. “I will be in my ready room.”

The Resilient passed out of sight into the Pekian Asteroid Cloud, shadowing the Alien probe on its homeward journey to…somewhere.

Back on Celosia 6, the sands lay still and lifeless under the perpetual night sky – everywhere but where the oasis had once been. Here, the silicon wasteland seethed, holding aloft Lt. Gower’s Modular Utility Tactical Tool. The nanites had recognized a distant cousin.