4. (NineHuman scientists have alleviated the need for regular regeneraton for ex-Borg. It felt unnatural yet familiar, the dreams. Being prone was not quite familiar to me either. I could not rest efficiently in the chair they provided my quarters, so I had to sleep. I did successfully, though I woke up this morning and did not wish to leave my bed ( Read more... )

3. (ThreeI was in the office when the wave hit. I was working as an engineering analyst tasked on a new class of cubes that we were developing. I was staring at the screen... more staring through the screen, trying to solve a tricky problem involving the shielding generators. Ida ships require inordinate amount of energy proportional to total ( Read more... )

2. (NineIt is a curious sensation. Having drastically reduced augmentations ( Read more... )

1. (ThreeWhen they asked me what my first memory was, I told them this. I am standing in a small room with large, floor-to-ceiling glass windows. I can see down below to the ground; mountains and buildings blending together like ripples on a calm sea, the view fading into white as we pass through a cloud layer. Then the clouds, a vast, white ( Read more... )

PrologueTen years after Voyager returns home, on stardate 63191, with the intelligence gathered by the Voyager crew, Starfleet Command decides to mount futher expeditions into the Delta Quadrant. They make inroads and recruit several systems into the Federation, but the Borg Problem remains unresolved ( Read more... )

When they ask me what my first memory was, I tell them this. I am standing in a small room with large, floor-to-ceiling glass windows. I can see down below to the ground; mountains and buildings blending together like ripples on a calm sea, the view fading into white as we pass through a cloud layer. Then the clouds, a vast, white expanse. I ( Read more... )

The office hubbub permeates the air-conditioned space. Windows look out onto long, slender fingers, reaching to the sky ( Read more... )

When I think back about her, I think of her face, bathed in sunlight, wearing a warm, wide smile. When she is near me, or where she has just been, I can always smell the faintest scent of melons. No, it is those things I remember about her, not the fact that she was the one I let touch me, let her reach beyond the surface of my skin and see deep ( Read more... )

Even though she lived on the fifth floor of one of the twentieth-century apartment blocks, she could still hear the music through the large glass pane facing the street, drifting out of the loudspeakers below and on every street corner of the city. Almost twenty-four hours a day various pieces of fossilized music poured out from the speakers, save ( Read more... )

( some fiction )