More Than Just You

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Episode 29 — More Than Just You

     View of Deep Space Nine.  Voiceover:
     "Station Log, stardate 50406.2, Commander Benjamin Sisko
reporting.  My earlier concerns over the presence of the Cauda
Linean Borg aboard the station appear to have been unfounded. 
The Cauda Lineans are proving to be a hardworking and valuable
addition to the Promenade, and several of their cybernetic
implants have already been hailed as advances in medical
technology.  Plans are underway for the construction of factories
on Bajor.  Grand Nagus Zek and the Cauda Linean Empress Natasha
Polaroid have departed, leaving Quark and the implant specialist
Not Fragile in charge of Zekware operations.  Not Fragile is
proving to be an astute businessman and would seem to have the
upper hand in his dealings with the Ferengi.  He is also a bit of
a politician with remarkable public relations skills."
     Sisko presses the Stop button on the recorder set into his
desk, and begins to peruse a coffee table book given him by Not
Fragile entitled _Cauda Lineans: People of the Mall_.

     The Promenade, outside the Zekware franchise.  Dr Bashir is
in the process of concluding a highly informative and stimulating
conversation with Not Fragile and several of his blue-labcoated
assistants, and of stepping out the door.
     "Yes, and I'll be sure to put that in my report to Starfleet
Medical.  No, it won't.  Yes, by all means.  Friday.  All right,
then.  Cheers.  And thanks again for the sample."  He waves
goodbye with the hand holding the freebie, turns and heads off to
the Infirmary, not watching where he's going, and collides with
Major Kira.
     "Oh!  My apologies, Major.  My mind wasn't where it should
be.  A million miles away in fact.  I've just been having the
most incredible discussion with our new implant specialist, Not
Fragile.  Starfleet Medical has asked that I keep a close eye on
medical procedures in the clinic.  They're accredited by the
Ferengi and the Bajorans but not as yet by the Federation.  We
have more exacting standards to be sure, but I'm confident that
with a few seminars I'll be able to bring them up to code.  I
hope you're not hurt."
     "It's all right."
     They do an after-you, no-after-you stop-and-go, and then the
doctor gestures magnanimously and Major Kira walks ahead, rolling
her eyes in exasperation.  He falls in close behind her.
     "They really are coming up with some amazing innovations in
there.  The Provisional Government were wise to opt into the
Grand Nagus' industrialization scheme."
     "They had no choice.  Bajor needs jobs."
     "But, Major.  Think of the medical benefits that will
     "'Accrue': there's a Ferengi word."
     "Really, Major.  Didn't I hear you remark the other day that
something needs to be done about the high incidence of visual
impairment on Bajor."
     "It's true.  We don't even have the resources to eliminate
common nearsightedness among our schoolchildren."
     "Well, feast your eyes on this little beauty."
     He holds up the sample given him by Not Fragile.  It's a
tiny metal spheroid about an eighth of an inch across.
     "What is it?"
     "It's based on Borg personal deflector screen technology. 
Implanted in the bridge of the nose it sets up a distortion field
in front of the eyes, creating what amount to invisible,
frameless, corrective lenses calibrated to the wearer's
individual prescription."
     She stares at it.
     "I'm supposed to put that in my nose?"
     He points to the bridge of his nose.
     "Right there."
     She shakes her head and walks off.
     "You've got a lot to learn about Bajorans."
     He blinks once or twice, then starts after her again.  He 
brushes past Romulan Subcommander T'Rul who is coming the other
way.  Door Repair Guy is pursuing *her*, and so far she's
managing to stay a step or two ahead of him.
     "Ah, come on.  We'll go bowling, then a drink.  It'll be
     "Quark's just got in a skid of Labatt Y."
     "I don't drink Canadian beer.  Must I vapourize you?"
     "You need to relax!"
     "Stop trying to be the perfect Romulan for heaven's sake. 
Unwind.  Take a load off your shoulders every once in a while."
     She turns.
     "What about my shoulders?"  
     Her hand is on her weapon.
     "Nothing.  Nothing at all."  
     He backs away, smiling and mollifying.
     She eases her disruptor back into its holster, grimaces, and
heads for the turbolift.  He watches her go.
     "Off to that damn cloaking device again, I'll just bet."
     *Ops to Door Repair.  Malfuctioning airlock door, docking
bay six*
     "Hot damn, a pizza cutter!"
     He's off down the Promenade.  As he dashes past the Zekware
store he's spotted by a Borg technician who nudges Not Fragile,
who in turn looks up and shouts:
     "Hello, my friend!"
     DRG flicks his personal deflector screens on and off by way
of greeting, goes through a rapid pantomime to indicate he's off
to fix a door and can't talk, waves so-long and disappears around
the bend.
     Not Fragile, in a reverent voice: "He was the prototype."
     Other Borg: "Did you get the bugs out?"
     They return to work.  We see Nog and Jake sidling up to the
storefront.  By their body language we can tell they're saying,
"You go first," "No, you go first."  Jake keeps nudging Nog
forward and at last the Ferengi fends him off with a flurry of
hands, and walks in.  Jake covers his mouth with both hands,
glances left and right, and lopes in after.

     A starfield.  We move toward the brightest speck, which
grows in luminescence and resolves into a binary star system as
we approach.  Stellar matter forming a bright burning tail arcs
away from the orbiting yellow star and spirals inward forming a
glowing disk around the intense white dwarf star.  We pass close
by.  Voiceover:

     "Crawlspace: the final frontier.  These are the voyages of
the Door Repair Guy.  His mission: to install and maintain
proximity-activated entranceways, to stake out new rooms and new
service conduits -- to boldly go where no one with a pass key has
gone before."

     We approach a planetary system.  The great bulk of a gaseous
giant fills the upper half of the screen.  A jagged asteroid
rolls by, revealing the words:

               Star Trek: Door Repair Guy

     A tiny companion moon tumbles after, revealing the word:


     We close in on a planetoid, and as the mottled surface
speeds across the screen we read:

                    Door Repair Guy as

                    Avery Brooks as
                    Commander Benjamin Sisko

                    Rene Auberjonois as

                    Siddig El Fadil as
                    Doctor Julian Bashir

                    Terry Farrell as
                    Lieutenant Jadzia Dax

                    Cirroc Lofton as
                         Jake Sisko

                    Colm Meany as
                    Chief Miles Edward O'Brien

                    Armin Shimmerman as

                    Nana Visitor as
                    Major Kira Nerys

                    Max Grodenchik as

                    Aron Eisenberg as

                    and Martha Hackett as
                    Subcommander T'Rul 

     We crash.

[Commercial: Labatt Y]

     Quark's Bar.  O'Brien is having a pint, Dax a syntheholic
white wine spritzer.
     "Have you heard from Keiko lately, Chief?"
     He swallows his mouthful and wipes his upper lip off with
his lower.
     "She sent a subspace message yesterday.  She had a big row
with one of the Bajoran botanists over some lichen or other. 
Seems they couldn't agree over whether it was a subspecies of
some indigenous lichen or an introduced species or some other
nonsense.  She and this fella were at it hammer and tong all day. 
Bunch of flippin' millarky if you ask me."
     "So you don't sympathize."
     "Oh, I do, with all my heart.  I just remember when it was
me she was rakin' over the coals.  Time was, I'd do something,
and she'd get mad.  Now, somebody on Bajor does something, she
gets mad, and calls me.  But you can't blame her.  This fella's a
real cock of the walk, from what she tells me.  You know the
kind.  Some flamin' eejit with a title after his name.  You know,
it reminds me of when she was teaching school.  She had this
Vulcan girl in her class, just five or six years old, but already
well into differential calculus.  Innocent as anything, but you
just couldn't get it through the kid's head that she was
intimidating the rest of the students.  You know how it is with
those Vulcans.  Make you feel small just by looking at you.  I'm
sure you remember in school how there was always some know-it-all
who was always showing up everybody else."
     She shifts uncomfortably.
     "No . . . not really."
     "But did you know the Vulcans do all their math on their
fingers until they're about seven?  It's very sophisticated. 
Really.  All kinds of higher math.  When they're seven or so they
learn to do it in their heads.  After that they just *picture*
their fingers in their minds.  And that's why when they grow up
they're always making cat's cradles out of their fingers when
they're thinking about something.  It's unconscious."
     "I didn't know that."
     "It's true.  I served with a Vulcan on the Rutledge and he
was always making churches and steeples out of his fingers.  I
mentioned it to him once, but he just said, 'Your point being?' 
Toffey arse.  But look at your fingers.  Each one of those pads
in between the creasy parts is like a place in a mathematical
matrix.  Hold out your two hands for a minute.  Suppose each
paddy bit represented a power of two.  By the time you got from
the tip of one index finger to the base of the other index finger
you'd've gone up to 2 to the 32nd power.  Or take prime numbers."
     "Prime numbers.  That's fascinating, Chief."  She searches
desperately for a waiter to give the "Cut him off" sign to, but
all of the Ferengi have disappeared.  Suddenly there's a piercing
shriek from the back room.  All heads turn.
     Rom is dragging his son Nog out of the back of the bar and
shouting at an extremely flustered Quark.
     "It's all your fault, brother!  You said it would be good if
he mixed with Bajorans and Hu-mans!"
     "Rom!  What are you implying?  Surely you're not saying this
is my fault?"
     "He got it in your implant store, didn't he?  I'm going to
show this to Commander Sisko!"
     Dax jumps up and steps into the middle of the fray.
     "What's going on?"
     Rom holds a defiant Nog by the collar with one hand and
points to the ring in the top of Nog's ear with the other.
     "They pierced his ear!"

[Commercial: Labatt X]

     A crowd is gathered in front of the Zekware store.  We see
Dax brief Odo off to one side, then hurry off to Ops.  Odo pushes
his way through the curious onlookers until he has reached the
focus of attention directly below the benign neon visage of Grand
Nagus Zek and its motto, "More than just you."
     "All right.  What's all this about?"
     Rom leaps at him, still hanging on to Nog with one hand.  He
shakes his finger under Odo's nose and demands:
     "And what are the authorities prepared to do about this
outrage against community standards?  Never before has a Ferengi
thought of . . . of . . . I can hardly say it, it's so disgusting
. . . piercing his ear!  Only now in the present day atmosphere
of moral decay can such a thing be done!  I want to know why it
is allowed!  I want to know who condoned it!  I want to know when
the authorities are going to enforce a few . . . o-o-o-o-h! . . .
family values!"
     Odo crosses his arms and nods.
     "Politically engaged at last, are we, Rom?  Where's your
     Quark steps out from behind a gaping Morn.
     "Now, Odo, it's nothing to be concerned about.  Just a
little bubble in the big melting pot we all know and love as Deep
Space Nine.  No need to concern yourselves, folks.  Nothing new
here.  Fathers and sons.  It was ever thus.  Ten percent off
synthehol at Quark's for the next five minutes!"
     Rom drags Nog over toward a Borg technician and points.
     "I blame these creatures!  First they came to destroy, and
now they sap our moral juices!"
     The Borg looks uncomfortable and confused, his one eye
shifting from side to side, while the telephoto implant on the
other side zooms in and out.  Moral juices?
     "Is that like the lymphatic system?"
     "Hear how they mock!"
     The technician, however, is on a train of thought: "And
another thing.  'Square feet.'  What are they?"
     Not Fragile steps forward, holding out his hands (well, one
hand, one thingamajig) in a jesture of conciliation.
     "Friends.  Neighbours.  If I may say a few simple words.  We
live in uncertain times.  In this world in which we find
ourselves it is never easy to know when one's actions are just
and right in the eyes of those around us.  And as the cultures of
our galaxy interrelate it becomes inevitable that some practices
will rub off from one to another.  To complicate things there is
also the knowledge that each generation reads the teachings of
its forebears in a different light."  He spots a toolbox-toting
Door Repair Guy at the edge of the crowd, steps forward and draws
him into the centre of the ring without missing a beat.  "A very
wise Vulcan gentleman once recommended infinite diversity in
infinite combination.  If my Human friend here can wear a Bajoran
earring, who then can say that a Ferengi might not as well?"
     The crowd look at one another, applaud at this reiteration
of Federation credo, and disperse in an orderly fashion.  DRG
gives a thumbs up followed by a Vulcan salute and a big AOK sign. 
Quark pursues Rom back to the bar, both gesticulating angrily. 
Nog spots Jake and they point at each other and exchange low
fives.  Not Fragile's lovely assistant Madeline suppresses a yawn
and turns back to the store . . . when suddenly she loses her
balance and winds up on her behind.  DRG opens his mouth to say
something a propos to Not Fragile only to discover that the
implant specialist is also on his posterior.
     Not Fragile: "We have just received the subspace command,
'Sit where you are and don't move til we arrive.'"
     DRG: "Til who arrive?"
     Madeline and Not Fragile: "The Borg."

     "Whoa!  Great new season of Star Trek: Door Repair Guy
coming at you on CHRO!  And what a great new season it is.  A lot
better than Star Trek: Voyager.  This year we've got lots more
Klingons, lots more Romulans, lots more Cardassians, lots more
commercials, wooph, lots more everything!  So stay right there,
and don't go to Fox because the Bob Couch is now a dial-in show. 
Look at this.  My very own three-line speaker phone.  Let's see
who's calling today.   Hello, you're on the Bob
     *Hello?  Bob?  Hello?*
     "Comin' right at ya."
     *Bob?  This is Trudy in Gloucester calling?  I can't find
Voyager in the TV listings?  And I wonder when it's on.*
     "Okay!  Next caller.  You're on the Bob Couch."
     *Hi, Bob.  It's Max from Paul Anka Drive.  When are you guys
going to get Voyager on?  You're already three episodes behind.*
     "Thanks for calling, Max!  Time for one more caller.  Ye-a-
     *Hi, it's Darlene in Kanata!  Stop, shut up, I'm on the
phone!  Hi, sorry!  Stop!  I'll murder you!  Hi, Bob?  It's
Darlene.  Could you play 'Lucas With the Lid Off' and dedicate it
to Lucas from Tanya?    Thanks!  Ouch!  Bye! 
     "Back to Door Repair Guy in a minute."]

[Commercial: Molson Ex]

     Closeup of Door Repair Guy's flabbergasted face.  [Award-
winning mental strain sequence follows.]  The film-speed seems to
change.  He glances to one side in stop action.  [His point of
view:] Along the curving Promenade people of a dozen species are
returning to their daily business, in slow motion.  The camera
has tilted, the lighting become bright and glaring, every image
sharper, but with residual after-images.  Door Repair Guy becomes
aware of the sound of his own heartbeat [sound effect].  [His
point of view:] A Bajoran woman walks by for what seems like
forever, the light highlighting the brocade of her jacket and her
Bajoran earring.  We catch her quizzical look as she passes. 
Shot of Door Repair Guy standing stock still, the adrenaline
starting to soak into his overalls.  He slowly shifts his sight. 
In slow-mo Odo disappears into Quark's.  DRG angles his eyes
downward.  The tops of the heads of the three Cauda Lineans
seated on the floor in front of him speak silently of the
disaster about to befall them all.  He must report.  He raises
his hand and sweeps it in a smearing image toward his commbadge. 
It gives its characteristic chirp, but at 33 rpm instead of 45.
     "Door Repair to Sisko."
     *Sisko here*
     "I'm on the Promenade with the Cauda Lineans.  They have
been incapacitated by a subspace command sent by an approaching
Borg ship.  It doesn't look good.  I recommend you go to Red
Alert right away, Commander."  
     Cut to Sisko's office.  Sisko, who has been gazing out the
window with his hands folded in front of him, swivels and replies
curtly, the baseball in his right hand grasped in a three-
fingered grip:
     "Slow down, damn it.  I can hardly make out a word you say."
itdoesntlookgoodandIrecommendyougotoRedAlertrightaway!!!!!! (deep
breath) Commander*
     Sisko leans forward listening, and as the words sink in one
by one he places the ball down, gathers the edge of the desktop
in a powerful grip, and nearly knocks the doors off their tracks
as he charges out of the room.
     "Red Alert!  [Sound effect, dramatic music.]  Dax, get me
Starfleet Command.  Tell Admiral Nechayev we have a probable Borg
intruder on intercept course.  I want all intelligence on
unidentified high warp traffic in this and the adjoining sectors. 
Notify the Bajoran government.  And scramble Defiant's crew.  I
want her ready to go to warp speed five minutes ago.  Major,
you're with me."
     He stops himself like an outfielder on the back wall of the
turbolift and pivots to see Major Kira just behind him with her
face set in a combination of outrage and incredulity.  The
turbocar shoots downward.  [More dramatic music.]  Cut to
flashing red alert signs.  Cut to Ops personnel at consoles
furiously inputting commands and shouting orders.  Cut to
population on the Promenade dashing this way and that past DRG
and the Cauda Lineans.  Cut to flashing Red Alert signs.
     Cut to oncoming Borg Cube, the stars streaking behind it,
the forward edge gaining on the camera as the wordless choral
music swells.

[Commercial: Classical Favorites, on CD or cassette]

     The Promenade.  Sisko advances through the hurrying crowds
and crouches in front of Not Fragile.
     "How far are they?"
     "Unknown.  But they'll soon be here."
     "What will they do when they arrive?"
     "What do you imagine?  They are classic Borg of the
Collective.  I strongly suspect their mission is to seek out and
destroy all viable individualized Borg.  The Collective was
ruthless in cutting off our ship once we were contaminated with
the individualizing virus.  Under normal circumstances we should
have perished in the wastes of space.  Now that we have found an
alternate way we Cauda Lineans are a grave threat to them.  We
escaped their attention as long as we stayed in the Cuniculi
Cluster.  It seems our mistake was to resettle the galaxy."
     "Are all your people on board the station?"
     "Yes.  There are none on Bajor at the moment."
     Kira: "That's a relief.  This isn't Bajor's problem."
     "Major, not now."
     *Dax to Sisko.  Admiral Nechayev on subspace channel*
     "On audio."
     *Commander, the Argus Array has picked up an object moving
at extreme high warp toward your co-ordinates.  Very probably
Borg.  ETA thirteen minutes.  Defiant is the only Federation ship
in intercept range.  As it was built to fight the Borg I suggest
that's what you do with it.  You are expressly ordered to deny
the Borg access to the Bajoran wormhole.  Sacrifice the station
if necessary.  Nechayev out.*
     Bashir, just arriving: "Sacrifice the station?!  She can't
be serious!  There are hundreds of people aboard!"
     Kira: "I agree!  Diverting the Borg into the Gamma Quadrant
would be the best solution possible!  I'm confident I speak on
behalf of the Provisional Government when I say 'Just get them
out of Bajoran space!'"
     Close-up on Sisko.
     Sisko: "No, the Admiral's right."
     They blink.
     He continues: "We cannot allow the Borg access to Jem'Hadar
technology we do not ourselves have a defence against."
     *Ops to Sisko.  The Provisional Government says, "Just get
the Borg out of Bajoran space."*
     "Damn!  Sisko to O'Brien."
     "O'Brien here."
     He's standing beside him, having just come out of Quark's.
     "Can you integrate a Romulan cloaking device into the
station's power grid in twelve minutes?"
     He blinks.
     "Woof.  I've never tried.  I'd need the co-operation of
Subcommander T'Rul."
     "Sisko to Subcommander T'Rul."
     *T'Rul here, Commander.  Defiant is powered up and ready for
cloaked warp speed battle.*
     "Disconnect the cloaking device and bring it to Chief
     * . . . *
     *Commander!  The cloaking device is the Defiant's chief
tactical advantage!  There is no provision in the lending
agreement for removing the cloaking device from the ship!  In
fact I have standing orders to shoot anyone who tries!  Above and
beyond those three points, it is imperative that the cloaking
device remain out of Borg hands!  Neither the Federation nor
Romulus can afford to face a cloaked Borg threat!*
     "The Borg have pillaged numerous Romulan outposts!  Surely
they have the cloaking device already!"
     *If they had it they would use it!*
     "Subcommander, I'm coming there right now!"
     *Commander Sisko.  My disruptor is pointed at the cloaking
device.  I will destroy it.*
     *Ops to Sisko.  ETA eleven minutes.*
     "Subcommander!  It is my intention to tie your cloaking
device into the station's reactor core, cloak the station,
transport the Cauda Lineans on board the Defiant, and lead the
Borg ship on a wild goose chase away from Bajor, the station and
the wormhole!"
     *(Pause.)  Oh.  That's a good plan.  I'll be right there
with the cloaking device.*
     "Doctor, get the Cauda Lineans onto the Defiant.  The Borg
are locking onto their subspace signatures.  If they're as
singleminded as we take them to be the Borg may ignore the
station entirely if these people aren't on it.  The cloaking
device is our insurance."
     T'Rul and the cloaking device materialize on the Promenade.
     "Dax.  Beam Chief O'Brien, Subcommander T'Rul and the
cloaking device to the reactor core control room.  Then I want
you on the Defiant.  Major, the station is yours."
     O'Brien: "How long do we have?"
     *Nine minutes.*
     "Jaysus Murphy!"  They dematerialize.
     Bashir: "Commander, I suggest we take Door Repair Guy.  He
is the most extensively altered person on board.  He may be
displaying a traceable subspace signature."
     "All right!  Give him a seditive and let's go!"
     Bashir presses a hypospray to the paralytic DRG's neck.
     DRG: "Wooph!  Was I ever tense!"
     "Gives us a hand with these Borg!"
     DRG, lifting Not Fragile: "Ow!  What did you have for
breakfast?  Scrap iron?"
     "And four essential nutrients."

[Commercial: Honey, Nuts and Raisins]

     Reactor core control room.  O'Brien and T'Rul materialize
along with the cloaking device.
     O'Brien: "Computer, I want a countdown to ETA Borg vessel. 
I hope you brought the adapter."
     T'Rul: "Of course I brought the adapter.  Do you take me for
some kind of idiot?"
     *ETA Borg vessel eight minutes.*
     "It's just that the cloaking device would have been totally
useless without the adapter."
     She holds it under his nose.
     "Okay.  Let's get to it then."
     He turns to a access panel, pulls it off, and freezes.
     "What is it?"
     "This is Cardassian circuitry."
     *ETA Borg vessel seven minutes*
     "Are you telling me the adapter won't work?"
     "No.  Not at all.  We just need to think of something else."
     "You have Federation components hooked in to the system?"
     "Don't you have Cardassian to Federation adapters on them?"
     "Yes!  Of course!  We'll connect the Romulan-Federation
adapter to a Federation-Cardassian adapter!"
     *ETA Borg vessel six minutes.*
     They work.
     *ETA Borg vessel five minutes.*
     They continue working.
     *ETA Borg vessel four minutes.*
     "I wish you hadn't asked for that countdown."
     *ETA Borg vessel three minutes.*
     "That's it!  Engage the cloaking device!"
     T'Rul engages the cloaking device.  Nothing happens.
     "Software problem.  Hang on a minute."
     *ETA Borg vessel two minutes*
     View of O'Brien pulling isolinear rods.
     Cut to the bridge of Defiant.  Sisko storms in and throws
himself into the commander chair.
     Dax: "One minute and counting to ETA."
     "Secure airlocks.  Disengage docking clamps.  Bring her
about and give me warp eight, bearing 235 mark 59."
     Shot of DRG pulling airlock handle.  Through a small window
in the door we see the station airlock dwindle away, the outer
ring of DS9 sweep past to be replaced by arcing stars which slow
and become points momentarily until . . .
     Defiant leaps out of the shot at warp speed leaving Deep
Space Nine behind, afloat against the Bajoran starfield.  Then,
in a wavering, watery effect, the station vanishes.  For a moment
the constellations fill the shot, alone, until a distant point
swells suddenly to a Borg Cube.  [Choral music.]  The Borg ship
slows to a halt above the invisible station, pauses, immobile,
solid, as if resting on concrete.
     View of the personnel in Ops gazing awestruck at the Borg
Cube on the oval viewscreen: it hangs in space immediately above
them like an immense cube of pressed petrochemical plant spit out
by the crusher in some gargantuan petrochemical plant wrecking
     [Choral music, with a bitchin' pipe organ (played by Frank
Pellico, series organist).]
     View of the interior of the Borg ship.  Tier upon tier of
Borg stand hooked in to the vessel's operating systems.  They are
     View of Promenade.  Everyone stands silently gazing up at
the viewscreen.  Quark puts a finger in his collar and pulls it
uncomfortably.  He scowls and makes a compulsive shoo-fly gesture
with the back of his hand . . . and suddenly the Cube is gone. 
He gasps with everyone else at the empty screen, and then looks
in amazement at his hand, turning it over and over.
     Cut to the bridge of the Defiant.
     Dax: "We are being pursued."
     Sisko: "Good."  The camera moves in on him.  He shifts in
his chair and his eyes betray a flicker of the thought: "I

[Commercial: "You're here, but your traveller's cheques are over
there . . ."]

Next week on Star Trek: Door Repair Guy:

     Dax flips through the index, then thumbs her way to the
heart of the manual.
     "Okay.  According to these specs the purpose of this device
is to release hundreds of killer bees into the Borg vessel."
     Sisko holds the cylinder to his ear.
     "It is buzzing . . ."

Written by Douglas A. McLeod,

Episode 29 — More Than Just You

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