[USS Vanguard] RPG: What's Past Is Prologue

  • From: "Andy W. Ho" <andywoho@xxxxxxxxx>
  • To: USS-Vanguard <ncv80221@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • Date: Sat, 16 Feb 2002 09:26:52 -0800 (PST)

Two years ago, Capt. Vanier Lee and the U.S.S. Astoria encountered the
Borg: a cube from the Collective captured a Federation starship and
attempted to replicate the Omega, using its crew as drones and
assimilating the Federation's technology and research.

The Astoria was driven off by three cubes and an unusual warning...

Capt. Vanier K. Lee
U.S.S. Astoria - Captain's Ready Room
Two years prior to Highwaij's post

Capt. Vanier K. Lee stood looking out at the stars. No matter how often
he looked at them, it served as a reminder that his was a magnificient
responsibility, just part of a fantastic career--to wake up every
"morning" and pass the stars at incredible speeds.

Like it so often did, the door chime rang while he was in a meditative
state. He sighed inwardly and composed himself. He would never, ever
let his crew see his exhaustion or true feelings. He had an undeniable
personality trait which forced him to bear the burden for his crew,
taking responsibility for their shortcomings and standing apart from
them during their victories. He believed--maybe rightly, maybe
wrongly--that that was what separated a good commander from an average

Lee cleared his throat. "Come in," he said.

LtJG. Soman Drath and Ens. Sam McCaw appeared.

"Sir? Is this a bad time?" Soman asked deferentially.

"Not at all. Have a seat. Raktojino?"

"No, thank you, sir."

"You, Sam?"

"Nah," McCaw grinned. "If I do, it makes me jittery. Throws off my
coordination the rest of the day."

"Very well," Lee said. He gestured to the rattan chairs in front of his
desk. The communications officer and the stellar cartographer glanced
quickly at one another and each took a seat.

"Captain," Soman began, "Ensign McCaw and I have been recreating the
audio records salvaged after our...retreat. It was fragmented..."

"...because of the different formats," McCaw nodded, adding to Soman's

"Yes, and we think we have most of it. We..."

"Why don't you just let us listen for ourselves?" Lee interrupted. He
smiled to placate any ill feelings they may have had over the
interruption. They had obviously rehearsed together before stepping
into his ready room, and already, it was not proceeding as they had
planned. Lee felt that as their commander, it was his job to set them
back on track.

Soman looked quickly at Sam McCaw who frowned in a "Go on!" gesture.
Soman reached into his tunic and produced a small crystal data disk.

"It's all there. We found a message on the end of the primary
communique. It was...addressed to you. You need your PAC [personal
access code] to access it."

Lee reached out and took the data disk. "Thank you," he said curtly. He
nodded at them. McCaw and Soman took that as a cue they were dismissed.

Lee inserted the tape into his desk console. It receded into the
computer data input bay smoothly, issuing a soft lover's sigh. He
walked to his personal replicator and requested jasmine tea, hot.

"We are the Borg...CAPTAIN! It's Lieutenant Quetan! Forget about us!
JUST GO!...is futile..." Quetan's words were overlaid on the Borg
declaration. Then, Vokar's: "...biological distictiveness will
be...Captain, we are assimilated. The Astoria is lost. Surrender or
flee--they are your only options..."

Before surrendering their position, the Astoria had received a dire
warning--an audio log from their own counterparts in the near future
(maybe a day or two) recording their failure and warning off the
Astoria. Obviously, what remained of the crew had managed to break
through what the Borg were doing/had done to them to personalize the
standard Borg directive. It was a telegram from Hell, Lee thought

"Computer, pause playback," Lee said. "Recommence at last audio entry
and begin."

"This order requires Captain Vanier Kung-Lao Lee's authorization."

"Lee phi kappa tau twenty twelve ten."
There was a brief delay as the computer accessed the requested
portions. Without knowing it, Lee held his breath.
"Hello, Vanier," came the voice. Lee's breath caught in his throat.
"Your first thought will be whether you can defeat us." A short giggle.
"Let me save you the heartache--don't even try. We have...things you
can't possibly imagine. Go away, Vanier. We're just fine. Very shortly,
we'll be leaving this...reality. I would use the Borg vocabulary, but
your thoughts are sooo small. We may come back one day soon. Visit us.
Your destiny is yet to be fulfilled and...we have so many things we'd
like to show you." This last part was said almost seductively. A cold
chill ran down Lee's back. He gripped the small porcelain tea cup in
his right hand until cracks began to spider-web from it.

"Ta-ta for now, Vanier. I'm sure we'll meet again soon."

Lee quickly made his way toward tactical, the ready room doors shushing
behind him. He would ask Tails to Ennien to scan the vicinity for Borg
signatures. He wouldn't be surprised when he learned that yes, there
was a Borg signature, but it was a chronoton signature--whoever they
were, whatever they had become, these "Astoria/Borg" had already
charted their course for other times, other dimensions.
It was what he would have expected his first officer to do. After all,
the voice on the data disk belonged to Kristen Stark.

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