Borg Romulan Assimilation Ch 01

There was no way out. The Romulan research vessel had been quickly incapacitated by the Borg Sphere. A flurry of emerald blasts had knocked out propulsion, shields, weapons. Its drifting hull was dragged unceremoniously into the jaws of the enemy vessel. Every bulkhead and energy source would be consumed and reassigned to a new form.

Some of the crew had already given up. Standing in shock at their terminals awaiting orders or slumped down in thought. Others were preparing weapons for a final stand by the ship entryway. The ship creaked with a dull clang as it docked. A security officer started to hyperventilate holding her weapon. Drones had not beamed aboard because they didn't need to. They had remotely hacked their computer system and disabled the self-destruct.

Romulan computer terminals and stations now displayed a red clawed emblem. Before a corrupted display was a young engineer. He stood behind the security line trying to regain control. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and dripped onto the wires connecting his tablet to the terminal. He cursed as the words "Access Denied" flashed again.

Across the speakers a chilling anthem spoke with countless voices, "We are the Borg. We have analyzed your defensive capabilities as unable to withstand us. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile."

Red emergency lighting flickered as steam entered from outside the hull. A dozen disruptors pointed ready. The wide door opened with green bright light of the Sphere blinding the Romulans. As their eyes adjusted, they saw what had to be hundreds of drones standing still. Rows of bald heads with tubing all sharing the same expression. The uniform spacing of the formation would have been lauded by military brass back at their boot camp. Every Borg was covered in the same dark exoplating and greyed flesh. The sound of servo motors whirred to life as manipulators and enhanced joints activated.

A phalanx of armored torsos marched up the ramp as the defenders opened fire. Green shielding rippled from the cybernetic forms that were unphased. The Collective had transmitted the weapon frequencies from the ship's security records. The intruders entered the ship and began to fan out from the T shaped corridor.

Dusky bodies blotted out the green dawn. They were endless, leaving no empty space in their assault. Red lasers from optical implants danced up and down marking targets now only meters away. They could now stare into the remaining eyes of the machined beings. Terror had gripped the crew long before the drones would. What had been an abstract dread was now real and imminent. The hyperventilating guard was now in full panic kept firing her energy weapon at different targets. Shields showed that the Borg had adapted.

Their commander yelled and charged with a sword. Confident strength radiating as he swung at the front line. A towering drone grabbed the sword with a claw. The creature looked Hirogen in origin. The metal screeched as the blade stopped moving. He collided with the wall of drones. The impact struck his nose and caused him to land on his buttock.

He tried to pull his weapon free. His stomach lurched; two thick legs were planted over him. The exoplating was such that the wires and implants were merged with the skin. It reminded him of bramble coursing through soil. The metallic roots spiraled up the thighs to a codpiece that rose to layers of durable plating that had no openings for his blade.

The cybernetic being still held the sword by its blade and lifted him by his collar. Another drone, a former Orion with its color washed out, extended an arm to his chin. Fingers pressed, holding his head still. The other arm raised and stopped centimeters away. Injector tubules shot into his jugular. The fist hovered as two sharp needles pulsed fluid into him.

He croaked in shock. Like frost spreading on a window, spindles of gray emanated out from the punctures. Within seconds that side of his face started to look like an extension of the drone's own skin. His hand slipped and the sword clattered to the ground. He pounded against the metallic chest, kicking the codpiece to no avail. He could barely tell which drone was assimilating him as he grew slack. His expression went from a grimace to a hollow stare as his body became suggestible.

The Hirogen drone transferred him to the care of the former Orion. The needles withdrew. He was in shock, surprised that he wanted to obey his captor. His limbs moved, responding to the input of the drone. After being in charge so long the change of pace was pleasing. A cybernetic afterlife was not what he had imagined for his post career days. To the side of his face a web of implants hardened and spread. The physical presence of the drone would guide him into the Hive mind. He wondered what his role and designation would be. His Borg identity had started to emerge.

The Romulans saw their leader stop struggling as the drones flowed like water around them. Up close the bionic creatures were ruthlessly efficient in ceasing their resistance. Yells filled the hall as any melee assault was quickly outnumbered and outmuscled by three or four drones neutralizing them at a time. Their coordination was flawless and calculated. Moving as a unit to encircle those that required assimilation. A blunt punch from a manipulator arm flung a crewmember to the floor. Another drone kneeled and pinned their hips against their torso. The individual squirmed, "Please, don't!" Preparation was irrelevant. A scream pierced the air before silence.

Another officer gave up modulating their disruptor and fled up a ladder only to have their legs yanked down by two drones. His arms continued to reach for the ladder as their claws injected him for transformation. He started to comply as his hand lowered in defeat. A row of drones climbed up the ladder instead. Their heavy forms were surprisingly agile. Shouts were heard as the front line fell apart.

Survivors started to run away, hoping to avoid or at least delay their fate. A Romulan science officer dropped her weapon that she hadn't cared for. She approached the laser fixated on her. A smile shone from the corner of her mouth as she tilted her head to expose herself. The drone obliged and began filling her with perfection. She gasped as the process overtook her. Her last individual thought was, "I will make an excellent drone."

Farther back the engineer and hyperventilating guardian of his stood paralyzed in fear. He continued to work and she continued to fire futilely. Two people fled past them as he saw the words flash again, "Access Denied." He saw the flicker of a red laser on his badge. He turned and saw his friend in full panic as she fired one last shot point blank at the drone.

The energy shield diffused as she backed up against the wall. Arms trying to push the assailant back. Her short and organized banged haircut ruffled as her head thrashed trying to avoid the inevitable. She was no match for the enhanced strength of the drone. "No! No!!!" The drone showed no hesitation. Pleas were irrelevant. A pallid embrace held her and she howled. The tubules sunk into her and dark ichor bloomed. Her eyes rolled. Head slumped; the drone protected her from falling.

The unit next to it had a large manipulator interfacing with the console on the wall. Its optical implant was blinking rapidly. Green circles and alien font grew like ivy on the display. The hull next to the terminal started to corrode as the nanoprobes replicated. The engineer clutched his computer but stopped trying to override their control. He rationalized that his friend was lucky to be unconscious. The wave of assimilation reached him. He dared not move and closed his eyes. He hoped they would ignore him if he didn't pose a threat. He heard the sounds of clicking machinery whir louder.

A sweet metallic musk displaced the air. He could sense one of them nearby. Opening his eyes slowly he saw the face of a beautiful woman. At least, it had been a woman, with sharp features and thin lips. The singular organic eye was alert and dilated on him. Where her other eye would be, a cluster of rectangular surfaces glowed green.

Receptors were nestled in the pitch-black metal of a structure that filled the orbit. A red laser shone from the middle of the ocular implant. Lateral to this tubing inserted into the back of her slick hairless scalp. Superimposed on the unsettlingly attractive visage was a fractal of veins and circuits melded with ashen skin. It glistened from heat and humidity, reflecting a small amount of light.

Irregularly spaced implants were peppered along the contours of the armor down her body. The exoplating was leathery and held the same perspiration as the skin. A webbed hand confidently landed on his shoulder. He imagined they were about to dance until he heard a hiss and felt sharp sting.

A pair of tubules undulated into his jugular. He felt burning and tingling as nanoprobes started to course through his body. He tried to pull away but the grip tightened around him. Another drone behind him seized his other shoulder. Her heavily modified arm had prominent muscles that flexed under the armor. It was sure and focused. This unit would not stop until he was fully Borg.

The face didn't react to his surprise. He studied gray veins that connected hardware to her biologic form. He knew his would soon match hers. He hoped she would teach him what that rectangular implant was that curved along the left side of her skull. A ripple was palpable under his hair follicles as nanoprobes invaded his mind.

He felt drugged but aware of his surroundings. The entire right side of his face was rapidly spreading the pallid corruption. His neck itched and swelled with the poison. Dermis contracted and cracked as structures coalesced from the nanoprobes. His chest ached as his heart pumped the infection throughout his body.

The microscopic machines were now exponentially growing in his marrow and liver. On a cellular level his metal stores were being harvested while the machines rewrote his genetics. More Borg moved past them having neutralized all forms of resistance in the corridor. He took a deep breath through his nose and could smell them. The inorganic pheromone was comforting.

The tubules withdrew while the grip on his shoulder remained firm. He stared at her hips that contoured to the Borg shell. It tightly covered the pelvis. Was her form making him horny? His lip felt swollen. The microscopic changes were now organizing and preparing his tissues for larger changes.

He dropped his computer to the floor and saw that minutes had passed. The terminal was now completely covered in green tendrils and even the walls had begun to change. The wall had started to grow protuberances that resembled Borg architecture. Implants began itching under his skin as they erupted first on his cheek and then his shoulder.

His fingers guided towards her breasts with whatever control he had that remained. The suit was thinner than he anticipated and he could feel her mounds beneath them. Rubberized patches swathed along the torso with implants and tubes poking through. The drone either allowed or didn't register his exploration. He analyzed the silvery pupil and ocular device scanning his transition. A throbbing between his legs was acknowledged by the mechanical observer. He was ready for secondary assimilation.