Star Trek: Voyager: Endgame

laughed and held up a hand in protest. “Kathryn. I'm not your captain anymore.”
    “Ah,” he joked, “you'll always be Captain to me.”
    Suddenly serious, she looked into his dark eyes. “I hope not,” she said.
    * * *
    On Earth, in the state of Colorado, little Kevin Johnson whimpered in his sleep. Above him, a small mobile turned, emitting soft nursery music. Inside his crib, the toddler tossed and turned. Beneath tightly shut lids, his eyes darted back and forth. His cheeks flushed, then paled, then flushed again. But he did not awaken.
    Inside his body, racing along his veins, something alien went about its programmed duty. Microscopically tiny, perfectly constructed machines came to life, replicated, latched on to blood cells. With each second, more and more of them appeared and began systematically replacing human anatomy with machine.
    And on his soft, fragile baby's cheek, a spidery Borg implant erupted.

    To Be Continued

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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