CR: COVID-19 --Political Talk

[WhatTheBuck 28776]

5 hours ago, MC Fresh Breath said:

 

I’m pretty sure they get attacked by infected settlers. Then later Spock gets infected by a flying amoeba which looks sort of like a fried egg. Then Bones figures out that very bright light will kill the bug but it makes Spock go blind. Then Bones regrettably realizes that just ultraviolet light would’ve killed the creature infecting Spock and that wouldn’t have blinded him. But fortunately Spock’s Vulcan physiology has protected him because the bright Vulcan sun caused the Vulcans to develop an extra eyelid and Spock’s eyesight returns.

That’s assuming I’ve correctly identified that as a scene from Operation - Annihilate!, the final episode of the first season of the original series. Masks wouldn’t have protected them. Spock got infected when one of the flying creatures landed on his back.

But I assume the gag was about the guy with the red shirt without a mask being the guy who dies. But that always goes without saying. He’d die even if he was wearing a mask. Because he’s a no name extra wearing a red shirt and that’s what they do.

[Bookman 4639]

Wow, if only we had a vaccine readily available to protect ourselves from this pandemic.

[Bookman 4639]

At this point I've just about lost faith in this country. I don't know which is stupider -- electing a failed businessman President of the United States, or not getting vaccinated in a pandemic.

 

Edited August 12, 2021 by Bookman

[Anastasis 23469]

I guess the median is technically a type of average, but there is a real joke inside the joke there. 

[Biff Tannen 45673]

7 minutes ago, WhatTheBuck said:

I’m pretty sure they get attacked by infected settlers. Then later Spock gets infected by a flying amoeba which looks sort of like a fried egg. Then Bones figures out that very bright light will kill the bug but it makes Spock go blind. Then Bones regrettably realizes that just ultraviolet light would’ve killed the creature infecting Spock and that wouldn’t have blinded him. But fortunately Spock’s Vulcan physiology has protected him because the bright Vulcan sun caused the Vulcans to develop an extra eyelid and Spock’s eyesight returns.

That’s assuming I’ve correctly identified that as a scene from Operation - Annihilate!, the final episode of the first season of the original series. Masks wouldn’t have protected them. Spock got infected when one of the flying creatures landed on his back.

But I assume the gag was about the guy with the red shirt without a mask being the guy who dies. But that always goes without saying. He’d die even if he was wearing a mask. Because he’s a no name extra wearing a red shirt and that’s what they do.

[WhatTheBuck 28776]

1 minute ago, Biff Tannen said:

And proud of it.

[MC Fresh Breath 4074]

10 minutes ago, WhatTheBuck said:

I’m pretty sure they get attacked by infected settlers. Then later Spock gets infected by a flying amoeba which looks sort of like a fried egg. Then Bones figures out that very bright light will kill the bug but it makes Spock go blind. Then Bones regrettably realizes that just ultraviolet light would’ve killed the creature infecting Spock and that wouldn’t have blinded him. But fortunately Spock’s Vulcan physiology has protected him because the bright Vulcan sun caused the Vulcans to develop an extra eyelid and Spock’s eyesight returns.

That’s assuming I’ve correctly identified that as a scene from Operation - Annihilate!, the final episode of the first season of the original series. Masks wouldn’t have protected them. Spock got infected when one of the flying creatures landed on his back.

But I assume the gag was about the guy with the red shirt without a mask being the guy who dies. But that always goes without saying. He’d die even if he was wearing a mask. Because he’s a no name extra wearing a red shirt and that’s what they do.

Or we could just chuckle at the joke and move on.  

[Horn Dog 9818]

3 hours ago, Bullneck said:

 

 

Well damn it, listen to him and keep him off that Fauci ventilator!

[JimmyJames 12271]

1 hour ago, bolverk said:

I feel really awful for anyone of you who are facing the dilemma of sending your unvaccinated children to school in the next couple of weeks. 

Texas Hospitals Are Already Overloaded. Doctors Are ‘Frightened by What Is Coming.’
Across Texas, health officials warned of a growing crisis not seen in months, with more than 10,000 Texans hospitalized and intensive care units stretched thin.

Aug. 11, 2021
Updated 7:21 p.m. ET
SAN ANTONIO — At least two hospitals in Houston have been so overwhelmed with coronavirus patients this week that officials erected overflow tents outside. In Austin, hospitals were nearly out of beds in their intensive care units. And in San Antonio, a spike in virus cases reached alarming levels not seen in months, with children as young as 2 months old tethered to supplemental oxygen.

Across Texas, health officials warned of overloaded, strained hospitals, a growing crisis not seen since early February, when a late winter wave deluged the state’s health care system. More than 10,000 Texans have been hospitalized this week and at least 53 hospitals were at maximum capacity in their intensive care units.

“If this continues, and I have no reason to believe that it will not, there is no way my hospital is going to be able to handle this. There is no way the region is going to be able to handle this,” Dr. Esmaeil Porsa, a top health official in Harris County, which includes Houston, told state legislators on Tuesday. “I am one of those people that always sees the glass half-full, I always see the silver lining. But I am frightened by what is coming.”

In recent days, Texas has averaged about 12,400 new cases a day, nearly double the number seen just two weeks ago, according to a New York Times database. The spike comes as about one in five U.S. hospitals with intensive care units, or 583 total hospitals, recently reported that at least 95 percent of their I.C.U. beds were full. One worry about the highly contagious Delta variant, which has fueled surges across the country, is whether it might test the capacity of health systems.

Hospitals in New Orleans, Jackson, Miss., Miami and Huntsville, Ala., have been taxed this week, too, as cases continue to rise in those regions and elsewhere across the South. Texas is among several states grappling with dangerous surges exacerbated by the Delta variant, which the White House recently said was as contagious as the chickenpox.

Earlier this summer, cases skyrocketed in Florida, Louisiana and Arkansas. As in those states, the vast majority of patients hospitalized in Texas are not vaccinated, state officials said.

The sudden increase of infections has refocused national attention on the efficacy of masks and comes as the state’s governor, Greg Abbott, remains firm in his refusal to enact any statewide mandates requiring masks while also prohibiting local officials from doing so in their own communities. To help manage the surge, Mr. Abbott appealed this week to health care workers outside the state to travel to Texas and help the overloaded hospitals.

The number of coronavirus-related hospitalizations across the state is projected to climb to well over 15,000 by the end of August, according to the University of Texas at Austin’s Covid-19 model consortium.

“The fact that we’re having to construct the tents shows that the system in general is not prepared,” said Amanda Callaway, associate administrator for Harris Health System, which oversees the two hospitals in the Houston area requiring overflow space. “There’s lots of concern. There’s only so much you can do, only so many rooms. We’re just trying to respond as fast as we can.”

Aside from the tents, doctors are also treating patients in waiting rooms because of a shortage of beds, she said, adding that at least 90 percent of the coronavirus patients are unvaccinated.

Dr. David Persse, Houston’s chief medical officer, blamed inadequate attention by state officials to highlight the importance and necessity of vaccinations to stem the surge, with Mr. Abbott framing it as an issue of individual rights. “It’s the wrong approach,” Dr. Persse said. “The rhetoric around this has been such that people adhering to their right to make their own decisions are endangering themselves and their families.”

Mr. Abbott, like governors in Florida and elsewhere across the South, maintained his position even after the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reversed course and recommended that both vaccinated and unvaccinated people wear masks indoors in high-risk areas. He issued an executive order prohibiting local governments from mandating vaccines and prohibiting school districts from enforcing masks.

Still, local officials in some of Texas’ largest cities, including San Antonio, Houston, Dallas and Austin, have defied Mr. Abbott’s orders and issued new mask requirements in city buildings and schools, citing the unfettered spread of the virus and still too-low vaccination rates. In Texas, about 56 percent of those 18 and older are fully inoculated.

According to the Texas Department of State Health Services, just shy of 240 Texas children were hospitalized on Tuesday with the coronavirus. Citing those figures, President Biden on Wednesday told reporters that he was exploring whether the federal government has the authority to intervene in state mandates issued by Mr. Abbott.

Over the weekend, the authorities in the State Capitol of Austin warned residents of a “dire” situation in the city, with hospitals so overrun with patients that they were short of both staff and resources to care for the sick.

Earlier this week, the resurgence was playing out in unnerving ways at the Children’s Hospital of San Antonio, where a growing number of children were being admitted with severe symptoms of Covid-19, including high fevers, chills, coughs and shortness of breath. Many others arriving for unrelated illnesses were also testing positive for the virus, hospital officials said.

The Delta variant and other respiratory infections were to blame for the crowded ward, with up to 15 Covid patients on any given day, said Dr. Norman Christopher, the chief medical officer at the hospital.

“We are now entering a new phase where our volumes are increasing much more exponentially here just like on the adult side,” Dr. Christopher said. “And that’s compared to almost nobody just a few months ago.”

Dr. Abhishek Patel, who works in the hospital’s pediatric I.C.U., walked in and out of a room where a 6-month-old and a 2-month-old were battling severe Covid-19 infections and were breathing with the aid of supplemental oxygen. This week alone, he said, two teenagers, who had other underlying health problems, succumbed to the virus.

In a room nearby, Cerena Gonzales, 14, moaned in pain. Last week, she was an excited teenager looking forward to starting her freshman year in high school. On Tuesday, she was surrounded by hospital equipment. She and her younger sister got sick after their parents, Carlos Gonzales, 47, and his wife Elizabeth, 42, began developing Covid symptoms and were taken to the hospital. None of them had been vaccinated, Ms. Gonzales said.

“We hesitated,” Ms. Gonzales said. “We were all a healthy family.”

As soon as she was discharged, Ms. Gonzales, still breathing with the aid of two portable oxygen tanks, rushed to her daughter’s side. She caressed her daughter’s forehead and tried to keep her upbeat. She recalled in tears the harrowing scene days earlier when doctors put her on a speakerphone so that she could hear as her daughter was intubated. “I thought I was going to lose my mind,” Ms. Gonzales said. “I could not be there with her.”

By Tuesday afternoon, Ms. Gonzales said she believed the worst of the crisis was over. She untangled her daughter’s thick black hair from IV tubes and gently encouraged her to drink orange juice.

Several members of her family had been ravaged by the virus, she said, and so she now plans to organize a family excursion to get vaccinated. “There is no reason any parent should go through this,” she said.

Nearby, Anne Marie Baker, a pediatric nurse, had the grim task of cleaning a room where just moments earlier a teenager had died from the virus. Ms. Baker took off her masks and slumped into a chair to catch her breath. Children under 12, who do not yet qualify for a vaccine, are most at risk, she said.

“In the last two months, we just had all of these patients,” she said. “It’s just so sad.”

Need more apple flavor horse paste. Stat.
 

It’s our only hope left.

[JimmyJames 12271]

26 minutes ago, Bookman said:

Wow, if only we had a vaccine readily available to protect ourselves from this pandemic.

We do. It’s the horse paste. Facebook poster out front shoulda told ya. 

[jimmyjazz 45898]

28 minutes ago, Anastasis said:

I guess the median is technically a type of average, but there is a real joke inside the joke there. 

I agree.  Obviously, Carlin was referring to IQ tests, and he should have pointed out the difference between "median" and "average", noting that in the US the average IQ is 98 when the worldwide average is 100, and then gone on to discuss the flaws in using IQ tests to measure intelligence, regardless.

Good thing he was just a dumb comedian going for a quick laugh.

[WhatTheBuck 28776]

26 minutes ago, MC Fresh Breath said:

Or we could just chuckle at the joke and move on.  

It’s not really that good of a joke and Neil should know better. And screw you if you don’t like it when I flaunt my Trekker cred. It amused me and that’s all that matters. Live long and prosper, motherfucker.  😛

[berlinerbaer 678]

My son started his first day of Kindergarten today. This afternoon we all got an email from the principal that 4 "individuals of the ____ community" have tested positive. Already. What I don't understand and what I probably won't be able to figure out is if these people set foot on campus in the last couple of days. Possibly, since there was a meet the teacher on Monday. 

My son is super excited about starting school and we want him to do in-person learning. I doubt we could swing home schooling or remote learning. Even if we did, it's not available until two weeks from now, so lots of FAAFO between now and then. The emotional roller coaster between watching him start this next chapter in his life and worrying about his health is jarring.

We are supposed to go to a wedding up in Wisconsin at the end of the month. We have been thinking of pulling the plug on that, but by some twisted irony it may be good to get out of the hot zone that is Texas if only temporarily.

[williemackgarza 1826]

My son started his first day of Kindergarten today. This afternoon we all got an email from the principal that 4 "individuals of the ____ community" have tested positive. Already. What I don't understand and what I probably won't be able to figure out is if these people set foot on campus in the last couple of days. Possibly, since there was a meet the teacher on Monday. 
My son is super excited about starting school and we want him to do in-person learning. I doubt we could swing home schooling or remote learning. Even if we did, it's not available until two weeks from now, so lots of FAAFO between now and then. The emotional roller coaster between watching him start this next chapter in his life and worrying about his health is jarring.
We are supposed to go to a wedding up in Wisconsin at the end of the month. We have been thinking of pulling the plug on that, but by some twisted irony it may be good to get out of the hot zone that is Texas if only temporarily.

My kids last half of kinder and all last year of 1st grade have been wrecked by covid.
He’s definitely behind in reading. Good to go in math, but during all online no,fucking way he could learn to read. Its bullshit.
Hope you fair better.
Were in RRISD.

[LonghornSean 3994]

Apologies for posting Clay Travis again, but am I wrong or is Tucker comparing the mask debate to "Tutsis vs Hutus"? Like WTF.

 

[Born to Run 6569]

My kids last half of kinder and all last year of 1st grade have been wrecked by covid.
He’s definitely behind in reading. Good to go in math, but during all online no,fucking way he could learn to read. Its bullshit.
Hope you fair better.
Were in RRISD.

My work with reading to my kid nightly no matter what for 30 min since he was 2 and just buying him piles of books of various interests paid more dividends than anything else I've done in life. That and modeling reading for fun and then discussing books.
I work my ass of on helping him learn how to learn, get organized and break projects down into manageable chunks.

In the US you either need to budget a lot of time supplementing Public school, or go Private. IMO

No judgment. it took serious effort to get my kid to enjoy reading. Once it took, it was easy. Around 5th grade he read Hatchet and we reread it on a hiking trip
Finished it at 8k feet in July at 30 degrees in Yosemite in a tent. Truly great times.

[MC Fresh Breath 4074]

schadenfreude time:

 

 

[washparkhorn 9939]

49 minutes ago, LonghornSean said:

Apologies for posting Clay Travis again, but am I wrong or is Tucker comparing the mask debate to "Tutsis vs Hutus"? Like WTF.

 

Our nation's enemies wish for a civil war in America. 

[We’reTexas 1473]

16 minutes ago, MC Fresh Breath said:

schadenfreude time:

 

 

Holy shit r/HermanCainAward? That’s incredible. 

[sidis 9825]

[Asithappens 974]

8 hours ago, williemackgarza said:

My kids last half of kinder and all last year of 1st grade have been wrecked by covid.
He’s definitely behind in reading. Good to go in math, but during all online no,fucking way he could learn to read. Its bullshit.
Hope you fair better.
Were in RRISD.

Get some Hank the cow dog books and read them to him.

Seriously, great books for kids.

 

[landman 559]

31 minutes ago, Asithappens said:

Get some Hank the cow dog books and read them to him.

Seriously, great books for kids.

 

Pretty entertaining for adults as well.

[Post Oak 20210]

43 minutes ago, Asithappens said:

Get some Hank the cow dog books and read them to him.

Seriously, great books for kids.

 

Head of Ranch Security

[MC Fresh Breath 4074]

7 hours ago, We’reTexas said:

Holy shit r/HermanCainAward? That’s incredible. 

An endless opportunity to see Trumpkins (and some random whackadoos)  get comeuppance of sorts.  Not sure if folks clicked on through to that thread, but the redditors in there dug up a lot on these two human wastes of space.  She died, and did so while having that as her facebook avatar.  I don't really do facebook, but apparently as of yesterday their facebook pages were open and much was discovered.

Surrounding in quotes for the good times.  It really seems like it couldn't have happened to a finer couple.

 

Quote

 

*************************

Lol her Facebook is still there and public. This is what she said on July 7th sharing an anti covid article

Yes, words matter... And fear is something that doesn't go away easily or quickly. As one expert said recently. When people start dropping dead, then you've got an emergency. Nothing like this is happening....

She would then go on to drop dead from covid.

Here's what she posted on June 22nd:

"I can't help but wonder when the head count is going to end, or is it going to continue as a subtle reminder of the scourge we've been "saved" from? The "numbers" are getting lower and lower... Only 18 today!!!! At what point are YOU going to get on with your life and get back to normal?

She would then go on to become another covid statistic that could not be "saved"

On January 29th she posted:

"Have you noticed the miraculous decline in covid??? I mean, with a 99.4% recovery/survival rate... Who knew so many people would suddenly get better!!

Little did she know she would be one of the not so many people who would not get better

She was on trumps juice and an avid watcher of OANN and Newsmax. She spent this entire year laughing off covid only to die from it scared and alone. They always talk about how covid has a 99.4% recovery rate(which is false but w e) because they never think they will end up being the .8% that die from it.

She was also a Secretary for the Aroostock County Republicans, so that's one less voter and supporter for their party. Sacrificed owning the libs. I want to make a custom card with all of her anti-covid statuses and mail it to that Republican group she worked for with a big letter "F" in the middle. On the front of the card will be a liberal crying and an "owned" under it.

Here's the Facebook feed:

https://www.facebook.com/cindy.johansen.5

 

 

[Nice Guy Eddie 13510]

Hats off to the reasonable people on school boards that deal with these morons that attend the board meetings. I don't know if I could last 1 meeting without telling them and their kids to f-off.

And I've read rumors that QAnon folks see school boards as targets for their future political ambitions. I recall those random elections on a Saturday in May where you can get on school boards in the Houston area with maybe a few hundred votes. 

When a highly motivated base gets large enough, they can move mountains against regular people.

[Nivek 16923]

I guess the median is technically a type of average, but there is a real joke inside the joke there. 

That’s mean.

[Hank Kingsley 20918]

NSIAP

 

 

[Nice Guy Eddie 13510]

7 minutes ago, Hank Kingsley said:

NSIAP

 

 

Can we crowdsource the funds to put this video as a commercial on Fox News? It can't be much to buy time on Tucker since most sponsors are run off.

[OneOfTheOutOfFocusGuys 2072]

12 hours ago, Bookman said:

At this point I've just about lost faith in this country. I don't know which is stupider -- electing a failed businessman President of the United States, or not getting vaccinated in a pandemic.

 

 

12 hours ago, Anastasis said:

I guess the median is technically a type of average, but there is a real joke inside the joke there. 

I was thinking about this joke this morning, totally unrelated to this post, which I find cool, but gives me an excuse to comment on it. 

 

But here is a joke within the joke I was thinking about: why does this joke work with a large crowd?  Because everyone thinks he's talking to them.  You are the smart one, and you'll indicate it by laughing at the situation you're mired in.  It's Emperor New Clothes-esque.

Edited August 12, 2021 by OneOfTheOutOfFocusGuys

[MC Fresh Breath 4074]

[Chuckie Finster 22694]

 

Edited August 12, 2021 by Chuckie Finster

[smuggs 9353]

9 hours ago, MC Fresh Breath said:

schadenfreude time:

 

 

"Got to get me some ginger ale..." 

[heso 2791]

As I hoped and somewhat expected, as of last night our school district is mandating masks for all students, staff, and visitors regardless of vaccination status at all district buildings through at least the end of September. 

They surveyed parents in the district on their preference: 54/46 in favor of masks. 

[Nivek 16923]

16 hours ago, Francisco 2.0 said:

Courtesy of some of the more, um, enlightened on my wife's  Facebook.  She won't quit Facebook, because it's become too entertaining (or sad, depending on the day).  Not only that, the person who posted this shared her iPhone contact she had made for this doctor:

 

 

 

 

Well, now I have that Imran Khan song in my head.

[The Dog 44020]

5 minutes ago, heso said:

As I hoped and somewhat expected, as of last night our school district is mandating masks for all students, staff, and visitors regardless of vaccination status at all district buildings through at least the end of September. 

They surveyed parents in the district on their preference: 54/46 in favor of masks. 

which district? 

I know RRISD did something similar but is still keeping them optional.

[Nice Guy Eddie 13510]

Mississippi's last stand for hospital care:

 

[Born to Run 6569]

I was thinking about this joke this morning, totally unrelated to this post, which I find cool, but gives me an excuse to comment on it. 
 
But here is a joke within the joke I was thinking about: why does this joke work with a large crowd?  Because everyone thinks he's talking to them.  You are the smart one, and you'll indicate it by laughing at the situation you're mired in.  It's Emperor New Clothes-esque.

Well he didn't tell the joke at a Rodney Carrington/ Larry The Cable Guy show...

[Mo Horn 8832]

Found out yesterday that a friend passed away from Covid. He was unvaccinated. His widow also got it, survived, but is on oxygen. Her Facebook page is filled with comments about don't listen to the haters, and you both did the right thing, and other such nonsense. He wasn't a close friend, but when I did associate with him he never was an over the top Trumper, although I knew that's where he was.  He was a retired police officer and was always about serving others. Just crazy that he refused to get vaccinated. I will never understand.

[C-Man 27214]

Can we crowdsource the funds to put this video as a commercial on Fox News? It can't be much to buy time on Tucker since most sponsors are run off.

Tucker is still Fox’s #1 rated show.

This guy is my new hero, BTW.

[C-Man 27214]

Found out yesterday that a friend passed away from Covid. He was unvaccinated. His widow also got it, survived, but is on oxygen. Her Facebook page is filled with comments about don't listen to the haters, and you both did the right thing, and other such nonsense. He wasn't a close friend, but when I did associate with him he never was an over the top Trumper, although I knew that's where he was.  He was a retired police officer and was always about serving others. Just crazy that he refused to get vaccinated. I will never understand.

Lovely that their FB “friends” are telling them that they did the right thing — that’s rich. Somebody else made the sacrifice, the ultimate one in this case, for them. The irony is lost on these stupid, selfish pricks.

[C-Man 27214]

 

[Bozo_Casanova 26444]

13 hours ago, WhatTheBuck said:

I’m pretty sure they get attacked by infected settlers. Then later Spock gets infected by a flying amoeba which looks sort of like a fried egg. Then Bones figures out that very bright light will kill the bug but it makes Spock go blind. Then Bones regrettably realizes that just ultraviolet light would’ve killed the creature infecting Spock and that wouldn’t have blinded him. But fortunately Spock’s Vulcan physiology has protected him because the bright Vulcan sun caused the Vulcans to develop an extra eyelid and Spock’s eyesight returns.

That’s assuming I’ve correctly identified that as a scene from Operation - Annihilate!, the final episode of the first season of the original series. Masks wouldn’t have protected them. Spock got infected when one of the flying creatures landed on his back.

But I assume the gag was about the guy with the red shirt without a mask being the guy who dies. But that always goes without saying. He’d die even if he was wearing a mask. Because he’s a no name extra wearing a red shirt and that’s what they do.

I have been working on this for quite awhile. hope you all enjoy.

WORLDS WITHOUT END REDUX
Act I

CHAPTER I.

In the endless void between the stars the mile-long form of a
starship moved silently, its chalk-white surface in perfect contrast
with the infinite night. The almost casual motion of this ship and
its two escorts was quietly observed. Star Destroyers, a powerful
front-line ship for the Galactic Empire, and a source of terror across
its territory. The recent arms race with the guerrilla movement to
overthrow their leadership had continued to push their weapons
technology further. It is this short time right now when that Empire
would be at its strongest, when they have their most advanced
technologies and an intact chain of command.
 

Spoiler

"Yes," said a voice with satisfaction, unconcerned with such
physical limitations on sound in a vacuum. "This will do nicely."
When those words were spoken, a change took place that was to
be felt across the universe. In some parts of the galaxy, some
special individuals noticed inexplicable feelings of uncertainty and
dread. For the two remaining masters of the Force, each the polar
opposite of his counterpart, it produced a disturbance unlike any they
had ever experienced in their long lives. And while these two were
wont to agree on anything, both could sense the potential doom that
had come into being.

On the other side of the universe a hopelessly mismatched
battle was about to come to its inevitable conclusion. One was the
Federation Starship Voyager, which has been cut off from its people
for over five years. Its opponent was a gigantic ship belonging to
the Federation's greatest enemy: the Borg. Unlike Voyager, it was
heavily-armed and effectively shielded, and there was no doubt who
would be the victor. But as it happened, this single battle between
two rather insignificant ships was in fact the most important one in
all of history, although neither side knew it.
"Any signs of other vessels in the vicinity," asked Captain
Kathryn Janeway, commander of Voyager.
"Negative, captain," Ens. Kim replied. "No other vessels in
range of our sensors."
The ship rocked under the impact of another Borg weapon.
"Direct hit, Deck 12," reported Lt. Tuvok at Tactical.
Janeway's first officer, Comm. Chakotay, stepped to her side.
In all crises he was her closest advisor. Unfortunately, there was
little to offer under the present circumstances. "Maybe there's
somewhere we can hide," he offered, "at least for a little while. Give
us a chance to patch the ship together."
The ship was struck again, and below in Astrometrics, Seven of
Nine was hastily examining their sensor readings. The fact that she
was a Borg herself was only relevant in that she knew what she was
fighting to escape. If there was any irony in her mind being pitted
against the hive collective that had trained her it was lost on her.
"Anything that can provide some cover?" Janeway asked over the comm.
"Nothing yet, captain," Seven replied, her voice even despite
the anxiousness of the moment. Seven was not one to panic, regardless
of the situation. She was adjusting the long-range sensors in the
vain hope of finding something when her console began to beep for her
attention. She tapped the panel and her brow furrowed in momentary
confusion. "Captain," she said, "Sensors have picked up what appears
to be a wormhole less than five hundred thousand kilometers from
here."
The ship shuddered again, and Seven could feel the explosive
decompression despite the room's seal. They wouldn't last much
longer. "How the hell did we miss that?" Janeway asked. "It's
practically on our doorstep."
"I'm not sure," Seven said, looking at the readings. "But it
is a wormhole." She continued tapping the panel as she analyzed the
readings. "Stable, but I have no idea where it leads." Seven's
stomach twisted as the inertial dampeners failed for a fraction of a
second. She passed the coordinates on to Navigation.
"Away from here, and that's good enough for me," Janeway said.
"Alter course, Mr. Paris."
Voyager turned tightly, and the cube altered direction to
pursue. Not long after, space opened up and swallowed both of them
without a trace.

Standing on the main deck of the Star Destroyer Incaciad,
Admiral Thrawn gazed at the space beyond. His crew was far too busy
ensuring the smooth running of the ship to pay much attention, and
even less time to wonder what he might be looking at, or thinking
about. It was a pointless exercise anyway; few could understand all
that went on behind those alien eyes, and yes he was alien. His
ascent to his current rank did nothing to change that fact in the
minds of the Imperial Navy, although it mattered little to those under
his command. Whatever feelings they might have for non-humans were
suspended for the grand admiral, and newcomers to the ship were
quickly educated in that fact by his crew. It takes extraordinary
effort to overcome a prejudice; but then, there was nothing ordinary
about Thrawn.
As it happened, he was thinking about the future, and how the
galaxy was going to change soon. The Empire was constructing a second
Death Star at Endor, supposedly more powerful than the first. Rather
redundant in Thrawn's estimation; a planet-destroying weapon's only
real benefit was in overwhelming planetary shields, which the first
Death Star was quite capable of doing. Even then, in practical
military terms it wasn't a terribly effective weapon. Perhaps to
eliminate the center of your enemies' leadership or to terrify a
populace into surrender, but what good, in the end, was blowing up a
planet you want to conquer? The Death Star was useful, but the extra
effort was a bit of a waste in Thrawn's estimation.
According to the secret communication, the Death Star's
construction was behind, and Darth Vader and the Emperor would oversee
the final stages of construction in person. Yes, the Emperor was
leaving the impenetrable security of Coruscant to personally observe
the construction of an inoperable and defenseless battlestation.
Seemed rather obvious a trap, but the Rebels had been suffering
several setbacks, and the Emperor's rather obvious trap did have a
particularly attractive piece of bait. He considered who might be
commanding the Imperial forces; probably Piett. Not a bad commander,
but not a very brilliant tactician either.
Thrawn was just considering some attack scenarios, were he in
charge, when he heard one of the crewmen speaking to Captain Jarrol.
"Sir, two ships have appeared on our scope."
Thrawn turned around and looked down towards the young man.
There was almost a sense of casualness about the way he acted. "Out of
hyperspace?"
"No sir," the crewman quickly responded to Thrawn, "they just
appeared out of nowhere."
"Indeed," replied Thrawn, still nonplused. "Let's have a
look," he said as he stepped towards the control station. He didn't
waste time telling the crew to raise the shields; they knew what he
expected of them. He examined the ships for several seconds. They
were clearly alien, and they didn't share any similar designs. The
smaller ship was visibly damaged, but if the larger cube-shaped vessel
was responsible, it showed no interest in making the kill just yet.
"Admiral," Jarrol said, returning from a quick discussion with
his deck officer, "we have an intruder on board. Engineering."
"I assume you're not referring to a rebel spy."
"No," Jarrol said. "According to witnesses it appeared out of
thin air."
"'It?'" Thrawn replied. Jarrol offered him the datapad and
Thrawn looked at the intruder. Mechanical components, but obviously a
living thing. "A cyborg," he said quietly.
"It made no threatening motions," Jarrol continued. "But when
it didn't heed instructions it was shot. They're taking it to the
infirmary to study it."
Thrawn looked up from the datapad to the two ships beyond the
windows. "So," he asked no one in particular, "which one did you come
from?"
"Sir, we're receiving a hail from the cubical vessel," an
officer reported. The sudden voice was chilling, as if a million
voices were speaking as one in some horrible chant. "We are the Borg.
We have analyzed your defensive capabilities and judged them to be
inadequate. Lower your shields and surrender your ships. We will add
your distinctiveness to our own. You will adapt to service us.
Resistance is futile."

On board the battered remains of Voyager, Captain Janeway rose
from her chair. "Hail them again."
Lt. Tuvok sent the message, but... "No response."
"Captain," Harry Kim said anxiously, "the Borg have beamed
over to the alien ship, the center one."
"How many drones?"
"One." Ens. Kim checks his instruments. "They must have beamed
over while their shields were still down."
Janeway turned to her first officer, unable to hide her
confusion. "Why would they not answer our hails? If they were
hostile, why haven't they fired? If they're peaceful, why ignore us?"
"Perhaps their communication technology is incompatible with ours," he
offered.
"We did receive energy readings earlier which may have been a
communication device," Tuvok informed them.
Janeway turned, her hand stroking her chin. Finally she
walked towards the turbolift with a quick gait. "Analyze those
signals, see if you can communicate with them. I'll be in engineering
- we still have a ship to put back together."

Thrawn watched the Cube advance. It was certainly big, but
there was no visible sign of any armored defenses, a rather odd
construction given the appearance of the cyborg below. "Flank them,"
Thrawn ordered, and the Kartinian and Lucinda advanced on the Cube
while the Incaciad moved into position. "Have the fighter crews
standing by," he ordered, "but don't launch until my order."

"Commander," Tuvok said, "the energy signal the Borg sent
earlier was similar in nature to the one we received from the alien
vessels. It might be their method of communication."
"Look at modifying our communications equipment to broadcast
using those signals," Chakotay said. "Whatever their intentions,
we've got to warn them before the Borg try something."
"Looks like we're too late for that," Tom Paris, Voyager's
pilot, said as Chakotay's attention returned to the screen. "It's
heading right for them."
Chakotay took a deep breath. "Let's hope they learn quickly,"
he said quietly.

"Use the Ion Cannons," Thrawn said, his voice with a steel
edge to it. "Perhaps we can take it intact."
Silvery-blue beams launched from the three star destroyers,
washing over the Cube's surface. It was clear that they were striking
the ship itself, but there was no noticeable effect, not even on the
sensors.
"Cease fire," Thrawn said. There was an unusual tone to his
voice, as if he were about to make a chess move right into a trap that
he could feel was there but couldn't quite see. "Turbolasers," he
ordered.
While the message was relayed to the stations Jarrol stepped
over to Thrawn's side. "Shall we launch our missiles as well?" he
asked.
Thrawn didn't answer at first, he just stared at the image of
the cyborg on his datapad. "No," he said finally. "And no fighters.
Just fire our lasers and let's see what happens."

Due to the sheer size of the Borg Cube the star destroyers
turned their ships so the heavy turbolaser batteries on their dorsal
side could all be brought to bear, much like it did during a Base
Delta Zero. That much firepower could normal eradicate all life on a
world in little time, and with the rate the plasma bolts tore through
the tritanium hull of the Cube it seemed that would be the case here
as well.
But for the Borg the purpose of the attack wasn't to fight, it
was to learn about this new species. Their scans had revealed new
types of technology, and what little information their lost drone had
gathered indicated that there was some that could be of use to the
Collective. Because even though they had been cut off from the hive
mind, the Borg never for a moment deviated from their purpose: to
consume technology and cultures that would increase their own
perfection. That it would involve their own destruction wasn't even a
factor.
The Voyager bridge crew watched in amazement as the cube was
slowly torn to pieces by the aliens with few retaliatory shots of
their own. The last time they'd seen anything like this--the only
time actually--was Species 8472. It was clear that Chakotay wasn't
the only one thinking that. "It doesn't look like the Borg have
adapted yet," Harry Kim observed.
"I don't think they'll get the chance," Chakotay said as a
corner ten times Voyager's size broke off from the main mass of the
Cube.
Paris swiveled nervously in his pilot's chair. "I hate to be
the pessimist here," he remarked, his eyes glued to the screen. "But,
I have a feeling they're not going to just ignore us after they're
through with the Borg."
Chakotay had been thinking the same thing. "Any progress,
Tuvok?"
"I believe I have the answer," Tuvok said, "but I am unable to
send the response."
"Was the comm system damaged?" Chakotay asked as he came
around to the tactical panel.
"Negative. But there is a powerful distortion field that's
blocking our ability to communicate."
"Some kind of energy noise," Harry Kim said. "It's playing
havoc with our sensors as well. I think it's coming from those alien
ships."
Any further discussion was halted when the Cube ruptured in a
series of smaller explosions as individual power distribution nodes
failed. Random debris scattered across space, buffeting Voyager with
shrapnel. Mercifully the shields held, but as they watched the three
ships responsible close on their location it was clear that was where
there good fortune ended.

It was fifty thousand lightyears from where the battle just
ended to the Imperial capital of Coruscant, but for a master of the
Force distance was something that happened to other people. The
Emperor hadn't moved since he had summoned Mara Jade hours before. His
meditation was so deep she wondered if he would ever return. It was
clear why she had been called here; with Vader overseeing construction
on the Death Star she was the only one left who could feel that he was
still alive. Even this deep there was no mistaking the powerful
impression he left on the fabric of life, a neutron star on the rubber
sheet that was the Force. Despite herself Mara jumped when he spoke.
"There is a great disturbance in the force."
"Yes master, you have told me." She tried to disguise her
fear. There was something different about him, but she was afraid to
probe it for fear of rebuke or, even worse, actually discovering what
it was.
"No, not that. No mere Jedi can do this. This is
something... alien."
Mara Jade had received little training in the Force, so she
could only wait while her master pondered what he'd felt. He seemed
to reach a decision. "You will remain here with me on Coruscant."
That hadn't been what she'd expected. "But, I was to kill
Skywalker."
"He is no longer a cause for concern," the Emperor said
flatly. "We must prepare for an even greater challenge." He stood up
and reached out for Mara. "Come." Mara climbed the steps and then
knelt before him. "Are you prepared to give up the life you have led
until now? Will you leave that person behind, if it meant limitless
power at my side?"
"Yes, my master," she said. Immediately she felt her mind
stabbed. It was hate, a cold hate, a hate that was born from
isolation in the frozen stars, a hate weaned on pain and nurtured by
abandonment and isolation. It was a hatred so black it consumed the
light, boundless and barren, it allowed no room for pity or mercy or
compassion, but it offered a strength that Mara could never have
imagined.
It had been an instant, and it had been forever, but the
sensation ended and Mara found herself panting on the stairs to the
Emperor's throne. "Rise," he ordered, but with a touch of friendship
to his voice. "It is time to begin your training, my young
apprentice."




CHAPTER II.

On a small, isolated world in a back corner of the galaxy that
the universe seemed to have forgotten, there was a single settlement.
On this world sat a tiny mud hut which happened to be the home of one
of the two most powerful masters of the Force that lived. If any had
somehow found themselves in this particular area of the swampy planet
they would have heard the sound of a heated argument between that
master and a particularly unruly student.
"Unfortunate that I know the truth?!" Luke Skywalker
exclaimed, unable to restrain his frustration. To have spent years
believing that his father had been a champion of good only to learn
that he was the very symbol of darkness wasn't easy, and the fact that
his teachers had deliberately perpetuated that illusion made it all
the more painful. Darth Vader, greatest enemy of all Luke held dear,
was his own father. Considering the weight of that statement, he was
taking it pretty well.
"Not ready for the burden were you," Yoda said wearily,
although Luke wasn't really listening. The master coughed, but
whether it was to get his attention or just succumbing to his age was
unclear. "There is a great evil coming. Stopped it must be. Time
you will have, but squander it you must not. Mind what you have
learned, save you it can." He was interrupted by another coughing
fit. "Hear, and remember: Once you start down the dark path," he
warned with a choke in his voice, "forever will it dominate your
destiny."
Luke could sense his master's lifeforce starting to fade, and
his own concerns were pushed aside. "Master Yoda..." he said
impotently, knowing that very soon he'd be gone, just like Ben... just
like so many people he'd cared about. It was so hard to keep burying
the people he loved, and now, when this horrible truth was placed
before him, the one he most needed to guide him was going to die too.
Master Yoda, sensing his fear, spoke to him, his voice broken
as he struggled for every breath. "There... is... another...
Skywalker." And with that, he vanished.
After taking a few moments to come to terms with his grief,
Luke exited the small hut and walked towards his ship. Artoo, the
most loyal droid ever built, warbled at him with concern. Even he
could tell something was wrong, and there definitely was. This was
his burden now; Ben, Biggs, Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, and now even Master
Yoda, they were all gone, leaving him to face this impossible task. "I
can't do it, Artoo," he said quietly, more to himself than to his
droid. The emptiness weighed on his soul. "I can't go on alone."
"Yoda will always be with you," a distant voice told him, and
it took Luke a moment to realize he'd actually heard it out loud.
"Obi-Wan," Luke said, feeling a mix of emotions. He was glad
for the company of his long lost friend, but the lie was so fresh in
his mind he couldn't hide his sense of betrayal. "Why didn't you tell
me?"
The shade sat on a log and Luke joined him, listening as the
old man explained what had happened. His father had been the champion
that he had remembered, but the promises of the dark side in the end
had been too much for him. He had fallen... become so afraid of
losing the woman he cared about that he'd become the agent of the evil
the two of them had always fought so hard to stop. That was why Luke
had been hidden away, to save him from the same fate as his mother;
and so had she. "Leia," Luke said, the answer suddenly so clear.
"Leia is my sister."
"Your insight serves you well," Obi-Wan said with approval.
Luke knew what he meant, that this wasn't his burden alone. If
he could train his sister in the ways of the Force, if she too became
a Jedi, there might be a way to accomplish the impossible. "There is
still good in him," Luke told the elder. "Perhaps together-"
"You have time," Obi-Wan said, "but not as much as you might
think. You must prepare yourself for the destiny that awaits you. You
face not only Darth Vader, but the Emperor and the forces of evil. Do
not take Yoda's warning lightly." Luke could sense his teacher's
anxiety. "I'm afraid that in the trials to come you will face enemies
more powerful than you can possibly imagine."
Luke was resolute. "I can save him." There was no doubt in
his mind.
"You must do what you must," Obi-Wan said. "But never forget
what he is. Whatever has happened, destiny is clear. You will face
Darth Vader again."

Traveling across the universe, a single message defied physics
by exceeding the speed of light due to a few scientific
technicalities. Even then, it took centuries to cross the great
emptiness between galaxies. It was a perfect metaphor for the
eventual recipients: unfeeling, ever patient, inevitable. The Borg
are not so much a force of arms as they are a force of nature. And
when they received the message and learned about the existence of a
race with new technology to acquire, their reaction was predictable.
Unfeeling, and ever patient. It would be theirs; it was inevitable.

Captain Janeway and her senior officers stood at attention in
the main shuttlebay as they watched the Imperial ship dock. There was
a palatable excitement in the room as the door opened and the first
member of the Galactic Empire set foot on a Federation starship. Hours
before, they had feared it would be as a conqueror.
"They defeated the Borg," Janeway had said with dismay as
Chakotay filled her in from the bridge.
Her first officer nodded. "They made it look easy. We were
nervous for a little while, but once Tuvok contacted them we were able
to explain the situation. They're called the Galactic Empire."
"I guess that means we're a little farther from home than we
thought," Janeway said.
Chakotay nodded. "Harry estimates we're on the other side of
the known universe. Fortunately the wormhole is still stable, but I'm
not sure heading back yet is such a good idea."
"Agreed," Janeway said. "The last thing we need are more Borg
looking for their missing cube."
"Admiral Thrawn has offered to tow us to an Imperial station
where we can repair the ship."
And that was the man: Admiral Thrawn. The man who had
destroyed a Borg Cube in minutes, and who had brought their ship to
the station for repairs. What they hadn't realized was that the
station was one hundred eighty light-years away, a journey of several
weeks for Voyager. The Incaciad had done it in eleven minutes. As
the captain of a ship trapped thirty-five thousand light-years from
home, that wasn't the kind of thing you failed to notice. With that
ability, Voyager could be home in days, and Janeway was ready to do
anything to get her hands on it, even if she had to resort to stealing
it.
Janeway stepped forward and greeted Admiral Thrawn. His skin
was blue, and his red eyes were rather intimidating, but he wore a
friendly enough expression as she approached. He was polite as she
made introductions and then began a tour of their ship. Eventually,
he seemed to steer the conversation in a different direction.
"I'm rather interested in that ship you were fighting," Thrawn
said as they left astrometrics. "The Borg?"
"The Borg," Janeway said, briefly reflected on her own
experience with them. "Not exactly the friendliest of races from our
side of the wormhole."
"Certainly not very personable," Thrawn agreed. "Are they
your enemies?"
"Only in the sense that we exist," Janeway said as they
entered the turbolift for the lower decks. "The Borg don't see anyone
besides themselves as anything except raw materials."
"Charming," Thrawn said as they exited the lift. A short way
up the corridor Janeway directed him to a door on the right.
"This is our transporter room," Janeway said.
Thrawn looked about it, his brow furrowed. "I'm not quite
sure I understand."
Janeway gestured towards the transporter pad. "This device
allows us to break down matter in one location and reconstitute it in
another." She was starting to feel hopeful; if this was technology
alien to the Empire she could possibly trade it for their own
technology: the hyperdrive.
"You do this with people?" he said, attempting to hide his
distaste.
"It's perfectly safe," Janeway said a bit too quickly.
Thrawn tapped his lips as he looked at the pad and the
controls thoughtfully. "I could see how it could be useful in moving
large amounts of cargo," he said finally.
"I'm so glad to hear you say that," Janeway said with a smile
that would put a Ferengi to shame.

In a different part of the galaxy, near Sullust, Luke wasted
little time in shedding his flight suit and heading down to the
meeting room in Home One. He wasn't certain what was being discussed,
but he knew it would revolve around the Emperor's new Death Star.
Having already gone against one, he was leery about a repeat
performance.
In a group like the Rebel Alliance there's always an attempt
to maintain military command and discipline, but in the end you are
dealing with just bush pilots, pirates, and militia. The noise of the
many arguments was a bit surprising, so Luke quickly slid over to
where Leia Organa and Han Solo, his closest friends, were sitting.
"What's going on?" he asked, noting the scowl on Han's face.
"Just five hundred people with five hundred different ideas
about how we should end the war," Han said cynically.
"The Emperor has changed his plans," Leia said. Her face was
a mask, but he could sense the conflict in her. She seemed uncertain
about what they should do herself. "Originally he was going to
inspect the Death Star, but now he seems content to wait for them to
get on schedule themselves."
Luke understood. "We were hoping to take advantage of it."
"Exactly," Lando Calrissian said, taking a seat next to Luke.
"The old man never leaves Coruscant, it would've been the perfect
opportunity to take him out of the picture for good."
"The Emperor is incidental," General Blissex said emphatically
as the argument toned down slightly. "The Death Star is a weapon of
unimaginable destruction and it must be destroyed."
"Agreed," General Madine said, "But at what cost? We prepared
for this assault knowing we had an opportunity to behead the Empire.
Without the Emperor the Death Star is a less important target."
"We need to do this now," Admiral Ackbar said. "With the
weapons systems non-operational we stand our best chance against it."
"It's too great a risk for too small a prize," Madine replied.
"The plan commits all of our resources. If we attempt and fail the
Alliance is finished, and with it any hope of restoring freedom to the
galaxy."
"If we wait, we only postpone the inevitable," General Blissex
said. "The Empire has already proven this weapon is not for show.
They used it against Alderaan because they sympathized with us. If
that weapon is complete, no one is going to be willing to risk helping
us. We'll lose our support and eventually be wiped out."
"Princess Organa," Mon Mothma said over the din. "You are the
senator from Alderaan. You've seen this weapon used first hand. What
is your opinion of all this?"
"She's not a military officer-" Blissex began, but wilted
under Mon Mothma's stare.
Leia took a deep breath, and Luke could feel that she was even
more conflicted. "The Emperor does nothing on a whim," she said
finally. "He has shown throughout his reign that he carefully plots
out his every choice. His tight rein on the military high command is
proof enough of that." Luke could sense the pain as she thought about
her homeworld. "No one is more aware than I of the threat that weapon
poses, but we can't let fear blind us to reality. The Emperor's
sudden behavior is indicative of something important, more important
than his pet project. Or, even worse, I fear he may have learned our
intentions, and altered his plans accordingly."
"How could he know?" General Reikken asked. "Are you
suggesting a spy amongst us?"
"I'm suggesting that the Emperor might have laid a trap for us
at Endor," Leia said. "And if so we'd be fools to step into it. If
not, if he changed his plans for some other reason, we may have our
priorities out of order."
"What could be more important than a Death Star?" Ackbar
demanded.
"That, admiral," Leia said, "is exactly what I'm afraid of
finding out."
After some time the group finally agreed to hold off on the
attack until the rebel spy network was able to learn more about the
Emperor's plans. There was still an almost funeral-like tension in
the air, regardless of everyone's view of the decision. They had had
their first real glimpse of the end, and it had been just as suddenly
lost. But as Ben had told him, Luke had time ahead of him, and he
planned to put it to good use. After the meeting he took Leia aside.
He didn't want to have to do it now, given her own burden at the
moment, but she had to know. "Leia," he said, finally finding the
courage to say the words, "I need to tell you something... something
rather incredible."

Admiral Thrawn's smile vanished after Janeway was transported
off the bridge of the Incaciad. It seemed like the woman would never
shut up, but after three days of conversations -enough time for the
engineering crews to install the new hyperdrive on Voyager- she had
filled him in on much of what lay on the other side of that wormhole.
Tens of thousands of splintered powers vying for their own little
share of their galaxy. Thrawn had little doubt what the Emperor and
his advisors would have in mind, and given his own proximity to the
anomaly... he suspected he'd have a very interesting opportunity in
that little ship. "Captain," he said, not even turning his head.
"Yes, admiral," Captain Jarrol replied.
"Have our fleet escort Voyager to the wormhole," Thrawn said,
his eyes never leaving the vessel. "Let's make sure she doesn't lose
her way."

"Engineering to the bridge," B'ellana Torres, Voyager's Chief
Engineer, said over the comm. "We're ready down here."
Janeway was literally on the edge of her seat in anticipation.
"Seven?"
"I've established a link between our astronavigational
database and long-range sensors," Seven said as she entered some
commands in astrometrics. "I've fed the data through to the helm."
She finished tapping the panel. "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Paris."
"You heard her, Tom," Janeway said, fidgeting with excitement.
"Set course for the wormhole, maximum..." she stopped short.
"Velocity," she shrugged at Chakotay, who smirked at her.
"I'm sure they'll come up with a name for it soon enough," he
replied.
"Course laid in," Tom Paris said at the helm. "Engaging the
hyperdrive." With a single push of a button, the stars began to
stretch and turn, and the Voyager crew found space suddenly replaced
with a kind of milky-white pattern around them.
Janeway stood up and approached the screen. She had been in
Engineering when the Incaciad had brought them to the Imperial
station, and hadn't witnessed hyperspace before. "It's beautiful,"
she said quietly, the tiniest hint of emotion in her voice.
"Yes it is," Harry said. "It's the way home."
Almost as suddenly the starlines returned, and the normal
ebony of space spread out before them. "Are we there?" Janeway said,
her voice still barely audible.
"Yes, captain," Paris said. "And for the record we made it in
12 minutes, 41 seconds. Just might be a new Starfleet record."
"Let's hope we have an opportunity to challenge that record,"
Janeway said. "Give our thanks to-"
Captain Janeway never finished. Instead space twisted in on
itself before her, and the ominous sight of three Borg Cubes filled
the screen in front of her. "Oh my God," she whispered. "They found
the wormhole." She watched the Cubes pass Voyager and fly towards
their star destroyer escort. "What have we done?"


CHAPTER III.

The Napuli System was, for the most part, a strategically
useless area of space. Little mineral wealth, no known colonies or
life, and a hundred light-years from a settled system, it was as
important in the grand scheme as a blade of grass is to a wheat field.
However, the fact that the first fleet engagement of the Borg War was
taking place here showed that things can change in an instant.
"All TIEs stand by," Thrawn ordered. "But do not launch
unless I give the word." Despite the seriousness of the situation his
voice was calm, but firm. He had learned a great deal about these
Borg, but most of it was second-hand. Still, Thrawn had experience
using little bits of information for his advantage.
"Admiral," Captain Jarrol said anxiously, "We're receiving a
communication. They-"
"I know what they want," Thrawn interrupted, his eyes never
leaving the three vessels. He was very quiet. "All turbolasers on
the center cube," he finally said. "From all vessels."
Jarrol hesitated for a moment, but only a moment. To him, it
was insane to ignore two-thirds of the opposing forces when they could
try to incapacitate all three, but he'd learned more than once to
follow his commander's orders regardless. Immediately their weapons
began tearing into the central cube. He kept his eyes on the sensors,
watching the devastation. The first cube they had encountered had
taken little time to destroy, and this one didn't look different,
until. "Lieutenant," he said with obvious confusion, "is there a
problem with the sensors?"
"Negative, sir," the lieutenant reported from the crewpit.
Jarrol turned away and stepped over. "Then why do the
instruments insist our weapons are doing less damage?" he said with
obvious irritation.
"It's not the instruments," Thrawn said quietly, his eyes
never leaving the tactical display. "It's them."
"What do you mean?" Jarrol asked. "Sir," he quickly added.
Thrawn looked back at the ship and then the display, and when
he spoke, it was as if he were discussion the duty roster. "The Borg,
captain, have adapted."

"Re-route power to the shields," Janeway ordered. "Evasive
maneuvers. Load all torpedo bays."
"Captain," Tuvok said, a calm center on the storm of the
bridge as always, "the Borg appear to be focusing solely on the
Imperials."
"Then give them something else to think about," she replied.
"Torpedoes, full spread."
One after the other the torpedoes exploded from the tubes and
impacted on the Borg ship. When the series completed itself, the
space glowed from the discharged plasma. But..."no effect," Tuvok
said.
"Bring us around," Janeway said, taking her seat. "Attack
along the same vector as the Imperials; we might be able to punch
through."
"Captain," Chakotay said quickly, "Maybe we should leave this
to the Imperials. They were more than a match last time."
"The Borg hadn't adapted yet," Janeway countered. "This time
they will, and the admiral will need every ship he can get." Chakotay
opened his mouth, but Janeway cut him off before he could even start.
"We brought them here. We are obligated to stop them. Tom, bring us
around."
The Intrepid-class starship weaved into the conflagration
between the titans, phasers and torpedoes trying to breach Borg
defenses. After a few minutes the combined efforts blew the cube to
pieces. A few words of encouragement were said, then the group moved
on to the next cube. "Torpedoes, full spread," Janeway ordered as the
tiny Federation ship dodged the Borg's energy weapon and closed in.
"There are only two torpedoes left," Tuvok informed her. "Do
you wish me to fire them?"
"Not yet," Janeway said. In the heat of the moment she'd
forgotten how the previous battle had seriously reduced their limited
supply. "Try to find an opening, then launch it down their throats."

"Sir," Captain Jarrol said as Thrawn continued looking between
the battle and the tactical display, "the Lucinda's shields are
failing. The Borg have been-"
"They're using a shield draining weapon," Thrawn finished.
"Set the jammers to a randomized pattern."
"Yes," Jarrol said as he passed on the order, but his
confusion was obvious.
"If the jamming is regular," Thrawn said, even though his
attention was focused on the battle, "they might find a way to
minimize it and use their transporters. We mustn't let that happen.
Launch all TIEs." He tapped the console as he watched the reports
coming in from the Lucinda. The Borg had ganged up on it in precisely
the same manner as the star destroyers. Shields were failing. "I
want TIEs to target all tractor beam emitters. The Borg can't be
allowed to assimilate any part of the Lucinda; not one member of the
crew, not so much as a wrench. Are my orders clear?" They were;
Thrawn was not one to resort to hyperbole.

"Captain!" Ens. Kim shouted with concern. "I'm reading
hundreds of ships, too many to get a precise count."
"More Borg?" Janeway asked, her heart in her throat.
"No," Kim replied, more restrained, "they're from the Imperial
ships. They appear to be large shuttles."
"They're not evacuating, are they?" Janeway asked Chakotay in
confusion.
"I don't think so, Captain," Tom Paris said as he pointed to
the display. They watched as the ships swarmed around Voyager and
swooped in at the cubes, their weapons tiny pinpoints as they fired at
the massive ships.
"It looks like Thrawn had a little surprise planned," Chakotay
remarked.
"Hopefully this will turn the tide," Janeway remarked as they
joined in the attack with the fighters.
"I don't think so, Captain," Kim said, his disappointment
transparent. "They've begun assimilating one of the star destroyers."

The bridge was a buzz of controlled activity as the task of
running a warship and coordinating a battle continued with the fine
precision Thrawn demanded of his officers. The admiral himself was
silently weighing the factors in his cold mind. The difference
between Thrawn's thinking and a military computer's was that the
computer was not aware of the moral consequences of its decisions. The
difference between Thrawn and most officers was that he didn't allow
that to influence his thinking.
"Give me Captain Tamez," Thrawn said. Activity in the room
quieted slightly; the admiral rarely spoke with the other vessels
directly during combat. "Captain," Thrawn said as the hologram
appeared on the bridge, "can you raise your shields?"
"No sir," Tamez replied, doing his best not to display any
emotion as the Borg tried to carve his ship apart around him.
"Captain, I want you to ram the port cube." He spoke as if it
were a minor course correction.
"Say again?" Tamez replied.
"The Borg are assimilating you," Thrawn said. "They want to
take you and your crew and turn you into brainless slaves. If you
don't destroy them, this will happen."
"We have them outnumbered-"
"You won't last that long," Thrawn said, "and we are short on
time. You can die a slave or die fighting to save the Empire. I
suggest you choose the latter."
Tamez obviously didn't like either choice. "Admiral-"
"Ramming speed," Thrawn said. "Those are your orders."
Tamez took a deep breath through his nose. "Yes, admiral." He
tried to put as much pride into the words as he could, and the
hologram faded. The bridge remained quiet as Thrawn's order seemed to
hang in the air.
Thrawn stepped back to his position in front of the tactical
display. He could explain to them that anything the Borg assimilated
could be used to learn about the Empire and how to destroy it, and
that even obliterating the vessels wouldn't keep that knowledge from
being passed on to the collective. Of course, he was also the
admiral, and he explained to no one but the Emperor. "Unless we wish
to share their fate," he said evenly, "we must focus on the task at
hand."

The bridgecrew of Voyager watched in shock as the star
destroyer and the cube collided in an explosion so energetic they were
flashblinded. An energy wave struck and knocked them off balance.
When Janeway managed to right herself she was able to make out the
shattered remains of the cube; the star destroyer was vaporized.
"Death before assimilation," Chakotay said grimly. "I'm sure
a few Federation captains had similar thoughts."
"Earth," Janeway said quietly. She looked at Chakotay, and
noticed the odd way he looked at her. "Captain Riker was prepared to
do the same thing to save Earth when the Borg first came." She shook
her head. "We have more in common with these Imperials than physical
appearance." She called out orders for battle to finish off the
remains of the final cube, but part of her couldn't stop thinking
about what had happened.

Luke looked on with some concern as Leia held the lightsaber
tightly in her hands. He could sense her fear, which was an important
concern. His family didn't have a good history with the dark side.
"Relax," he told her, "Don't try to force it. Just let it happen." He
activated the remote, which began to move with a series of small,
deliberate motions. Every few seconds a beam would lash out--not
strong, just enough to sting. Leia swung the blade, but missed. This
repeated until Luke could sense her frustration. "I know it seems
hard, but that's just it. It only seems hard because you think it is.
Stretch out with your feelings, and don't worry about whether you
block or not. Just let your instincts guide you."
"Easy to say," Leia said through gritted teeth, "hard to do."
The blade was brought up, almost blocking the latest bolt.
"Like all things, it takes practice and patience." Which was
true, but there was no sense in going too hard on her on her first
day. Luke stretched out with the Force and turned the remote to a
lower setting. He felt a flash of anger.
"I don't need you to go soft on me," Leia told him. "I just
need to get the hang of things."
Luke nodded with a small smile. "How did you know?" he asked.
Leia opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it. "I don't
know. I just... just knew."
"Now you're starting to understand," he said with approval.
"Trust your feelings, don't second guess them."
Leia took a deep breath then held the lightsaber out in front
of her, eyes fixed on the remote. It fired, slow at first, then
faster. The green blade slipped through the air with a quiet hum as
it snatched at each sliver of energy, bouncing it away harmlessly.
Luke switched it off and clapped his hands a few times. "You've taken
the first step," he said with approval. "But there's something you
must always remember. Take these steps only along the proper path."
He paused, realizing that it was only a week ago that he was the
pupil. He wished Master Yoda was there to train her, to give the
guidance that Leia needed to avoid the trap their father had stepped
into and that he nearly succumbed to as well. That was Yoda's last
warning to him, something that, even as he died, he wanted Luke to
remember. He would face his father again; would he face the dark side
again as well? And more importantly, could he find the strength to
refuse it, or would he give in to temptation?
"Are you all right?" Leia asked.
Luke tried to put on a cheerful face. She was definitely
growing in her powers. "I'll be fine," he assured her. "Let's
continue with your exercises."

"Are they gone?" the Emperor asked.
"Yes, your highness," the hologram replied. Mara stopped her
exercise, her instincts telling her that something important was going
on. After a few seconds she recognized the hologram as Thrawn, one of
the more gifted military commanders, but nevertheless an alien.
However good they might be, never trust an alien, or so the Emperor
had taught her; and he was right. Thrawn may command in his navy, but
the Emperor did not for an instant allow that to cloud his judgment of
the creature.
"What do you know about this Federation?" the Emperor asked.
"They are but one of thousands of minor powers located in
their galaxy," Thrawn replied. "Many have little knowledge of the
existence of most of the others. Communication on the galactic scale
is virtually non-existent."
"That can be used to our advantage," the Emperor replied.
"What of the leader you spoke with?"
Thrawn chuckled. "Janeway is extremely naïve. She seems to
take everything at face value. After the Lucinda was destroyed she
gave us all tactical information they had on the Borg, no matter how
obscure. There is a multitude of details we can use to deduce
information about tactical and strategic possibilities against a great
deal of powers in their galaxy. And of course, the information on the
Borg itself will be extremely useful."
"Indeed," the Emperor said. "What is your assessment of these
Borg?"
"They are obviously a threat, you highness," Thrawn replied
simply. "They no doubt want to assimilate us as well, and since it's
impossible to negotiate with them, armed conflict is unavoidable."
"Then you are recommending that we prepare for war," the
Emperor replied.
"Your Excellency, I suggest that we deter them from that
course. A retaliatory strike into their territory as a direct
response to their invasion would demonstrate that further conflicts
with the Empire would not be in their best interests."
Mara could sense the Emperor's mood sour. Was Thrawn
attempting some duplicity? "I thought you said these Borg are
unreasonable."
"Your highness, the Borg cannot be reasoned with, but they
are, in the end, beings of logic."
The Emperor was silent for several minutes, but Thrawn said
nothing, a wise choice as far as Mara was concerned. Her master was
right, this alien couldn't be trusted. However, the Borg were
definitely a threat if they could cause the destruction of a star
destroyer. "I want you to take command of a task force of vessels
from the nearest space station, and cross into this Milky Way galaxy."
"Yes, your excellency," Thrawn replied.
Mara could sense the Emperor's irritation. He had no doubt
been expecting Thrawn to presume he would command the war effort, and
thus humiliate him by denying it. "I want a station built on the
other side of the wormhole to serve as a launch platform for our
efforts and to maintain communication throughout the conflict. See
that it is built quickly and protected from the Borg."
Thrawn nodded and the hologram faded. The Emperor turned
towards Mara, his gaze causing her to wither slightly. The more she
grew in her power, the more she could sense how great the gap was
between them. He noticed her reaction, as he noticed everything, and
a smile drew to his lips at her fear. "Good," he said slowly. "Fear
is the path to strength. Terror, hatred, passion, these are the
things of power. Embrace them, my young apprentice."
"Yes, my master," she replied with a slight bow. She
hesitated, unsure if it was her place to speak with him of such
things. "Master, do you really trust such an important matter in the
hands of the Chiss?"
The Emperor waved the remark away as he returned to his
throne. "He is an able planner and a skilled tactician, but I would
not be so foolish as to trust him with this campaign. Darth Vader's
fleet has the most capable officers in the navy; they will deal with
the Borg."
"But what of the rebels," Mara replied. "If they attack while
the fleet is gone-"
"The rebels will not attack," the Emperor replied. "And if
they were so foolish, the battlestation is shielded, and no army in
existence can equal the one I have placed to guard the generator. No,
my young pupil, the rebels are no threat."
Mara nodded her agreement, but the Emperor could sense her
thoughts. He chuckled. "Yes, you are correct child. One must never
underestimate one's enemy, no matter how nearly vanquished they might
be." It was a lesson her master had impressed on her from day one; a
lesson one of her predecessors had learned from a lightsaber point.
"The rebel support will wither once my battlestation is operational,
lest they suffer the same fate as Alderaan. You need not always
battle to win, young Mara, you can succeed merely by using your
enemy's fears against them."
"I still don't understand."
The Emperor smiled, and Mara could sense he was thinking about
the Federation and its neighbors. "You will child. You will."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr.Wizard02-19-2008, 11:15 PM
CHAPTER IV.

Captain Janeway tried not to fidget in front of the admirals,
but it wasn't easy. With the celebrations of Voyager's return ending,
the reality of all that had happened had sunk in. For five years she
had no superior officers to deal with, no one to report to but her own
conscience. Now that she was home, those five years were about to be
placed under a microscope.
"Captain, before we begin," said Admiral Parks, the senior
officer present, "I want you to understand that this is not an
official inquiry or a disciplinary investigation. We just want to
clear up some of the events that took place during your absence."
Janeway nodded. "I understand, admiral." She was glad none of
them were telepaths and could tell what a lie that was.
"Good," Parks turned to a white-haired man at the end of the
row. "Adm. Jellico, I believe you had a topic of particular concern."
Admiral Jellico nodded. "Captain Janeway. You ascribed your
speedy return to a group called the," he turned to his notes, "the
Galactic Empire?"
"Yes," Janeway answered, "we worked out an exchange with a
representative of the Empire wherein they were given transporter
technology and we were given their propulsion device."
Jellico consulted his notes again. "A device called a
'hyperdrive'."
"Yes. They showed interest in our transporters, and we
obviously needed their device a great deal."
"Enough to violate the Prime Directive?" Jellico replied.
The suddenness of the remark caught her off guard. "What do
you mean, sir?" Janeway replied.
"According to your report," Jellico said, "the Empire is not
only on the other side of the universe, but is existing at a time far
earlier than our own."
"Yes," Janeway replied. "We discovered that the wormhole
displaces in space as well as time, at the speed of subspace in fact."
"Very convenient," Jellico said with disinterest, "but it
doesn't explain why you deliberately gave technology to a society that
existed, by your own admission, before our own."
Janeway's voice dropped in pitch. "We didn't know about this
at the time. It wasn't until the Borg showed up that we realized it.
In either case, I stand by my actions."
"Even though they violate Starfleet regulations?" Jellico
asked pointedly.
"Yes," Janeway remained stoic, "I do."
Janeway expected the barrage to continue, but Jellico suddenly
reversed thrusters, catching her off guard. "Would you not in fact
say that your actions were necessary to ensure the safety of your
crew?"
"Yes," she replied, wondering if she'd just stepped into
Jellico's trap.
"Would you describe the Galactic Empire as being hostile?"
Janeway was growing more suspicious, but she firmly believed
that the truth justified her. "In every encounter I had with them,
the Empire showed they were civilized and cooperative."
Admiral Parks spoke up. "Would you be willing to testify to
that before the Federation Council?"
"Yes," she replied, but didn't understand. She said as much.
"It's really quite simple, captain," Jellico said. "We want
you to tell all of this to the Federation Council tomorrow."
"To accomplish what?"
"A lot has happened while you were gone, captain." Parks
hesitated. "The Federation is in trouble. We've been having diplomatic
negotiations with practically every two-bit planet in our part of
space. We need support if we are to survive."
She'd been gone too long, Janeway realized. She'd forgotten
about how much of a hotbed the alpha quadrant can be. It fell into
place in an instant. "Then what you want..."
Jellico finished, "We think the Federation should form an
alliance with the Empire."

Seven of Nine waited outside the briefing room, hands clasped
behind her back in what passed for a relaxed pose, moving only as much
as was required to remain alert. It was for this reason she was aware
of the small group of Starfleet personnel - cadets, she noted from
their insignia - that had gathered to stare at her since she and
Captain Janeway had arrived. Scoptophobia was an irrational fear, as
was paranoia; human foibles that she as a Borg had grown far beyond.
Their whisphered discussions about her were of no concern, no concern
at all.
"Do you require something?" she asked, causing the small crowd
to jump at the suddenness of her remark. Despite herself she hadn't
been able to keep the belligerence out of her voice.
"Um," one of the female cadets said as her classmates
distanced themselves from her slightly, "we were wondering if it was
true... what they said, I mean. That you're a Borg."
"I am an individual now," Seven replied.
"But, you were a Borg," the cadet replied. "You used to be."
Seven resisted the pointless desire to rub her hands together
at the uncomfortable situation. "Yes," she finally replied.
"Does it hurt when you're assimilated?" someone else asked.
"I don't remember," Seven replied.
"I thought Borg never forget anything," the first cadet
replied.
"We do not waste valuable resources on the pointless
recollection of pain."
"Did you ever help assimilate anyone?"
Seven wrung her hands instinctively. "Yes," she replied
quietly.
"Did they show they were in pain? Did they want you to stop?"
"I don't remember," she said sharply.
"Mr. Hicks," a voice came from behind Seven, "are you in
charge of this gathering?" All the cadets drew to attention. Seven
glanced between them and a white-haired man that had just exited the
briefing room.
"No, sir," the female cadet replied.
"You are now," he said. "Since your classmates have nothing
better to do than gawk in a hallway, I think you can find the time to
inventory the cargo containers at Docking Platform #2. I'll inform
the quartermaster that you will personally have it on her desk by 2100
hours."
"Yes sir," she replied, and with a nod from the officer they
rushed off. As they left the man joined with a small group of others
who had just left the briefing room. Seven noted the smile on Captain
Janeway's face, a complete reversal of her previously somber attitude.
"Your debriefing went well?" Seven asked.
"Better than well," Janeway replied as the two started walking
through the corridors of Starfleet Command. "It seems our little
detour through the wormhole may have a much larger consequence than
we'd thought."
"The hyperdrive will bring substantial changes," Seven
remarked. "Further tradings for Imperial technology would be wise."
"Off the record," Janeway remarked, a phrase that Seven still
failed to understand, "it's going to be a lot bigger than that." They
drew to a halt as the cadet returned. "Can we help you?" Janeway
asked politely.
"I'm sorry, sir," she replied nervously, then turned to Seven.
"I just wanted to apologize on behalf of myself and everyone else. We
didn't mean to offend you."
"I do not take offense," Seven replied.
"Well, what we did was rude, and as future Starfleet officers
we should've known better."
Seven looked at Captain Janeway nervously, then back. "You
should be completing the admiral's orders. It would be a mistake to
neglect your duty by talking to me." She continued walking, the girl
looking oddly between her and Janeway before the captain rushed to
catch up.
"Was there a problem?" Janeway asked with concern.
"No," Seven said curtly.
Captain Janeway nodded, clearly not believing it but knowing
better than to bring it up now. "Let's get back to the ship. I think
we've spent enough time on Earth for right now."
Seven took a deep breath. "Agreed," she replied with a hint
of exhaustion.

Lt. Delric Taar tapped his datapad absentmindedly on the table
in front of him as he waited for the fleet-wide briefing to begin.
Whatever was going on made him edgy; the zero hour for the rebel
attack had come and gone, and command refused to breathe a word to the
lower decks of what was going on, even though it was obvious something
was up. The fleet had left the incomplete Death Star undefended days
ago, a dangerous move in his opinion. Of course, there was no love
lost between himself and the Death Star. More than one of his friends
had left the service over Alderaan, their hatred overwhelming their
loyalty for order and peace. Now he'd been forced to blow his former
wingmates away, and all because of a superweapon that was, by its very
nature, a tactically useless tool.
According to the rebellion, Alderaan had been destroyed by
Grand Moff Tarkin just to spite a rebel spy. Of course, it was
probably just propaganda, but down deep Taar had to wonder whether or
not anyone could command such power and be able to show restraint. He
wasn't optimistic, especially with Moff Jerjerrod in command. He'd
seen the moff's reaction to Lord Vader, and putting ultimate power in
the hands of a whiny sycophant was like giving an infant a thermal
detonator to play with.
Before he could continue the thought the holograms of other
squadron leaders appeared throughout the room, the fleet flight
coordinator appearing in the center. Taar got his datapad ready as
the briefing began.
"Squadron leaders," the major began, "meet your new enemy."
The rotating image of a cube-shaped object appeared on each table, a
smaller one of a star destroyer alongside it for scale. "They're
called the Borg, and it is our responsibility to ensure that they pose
no threat to the Empire." Taar took notes as the previous battles
involving the Borg were given, the known points of their defenses, and
the reason for the upcoming mission.
"We are going to cross through the wormhole and into Borg
space," the major continued. "Since they have no concept of diplomacy
we plan to annihilate enough ships and planets to show them that
further attacks on the Empire would be a devastating mistake. Any
questions?"
Taar spoke up. "Sir, Interceptors, as the very name implies,
are meant to deal with fighter craft. They cause minimal damage to
corvettes. What possible use do they have against a ship this size?"
The major exhaled in annoyance. "We've determined that
swarming the cubes with fighters will provide a distraction that will
allow our star destroyers to do their work."
Don't say it, Delric. Don't say it, Delric. "So we're flying
targets. Sir." You shouldn't have said it. The major's look of
scorn agreed with that sentiment.
"I think the major was impressed with your tactical
assessments," Lt. Starrunner, squadron leader for Grey Squadron,
remarked after the briefing was over.
"Kriff him," Taar said with disgust. "These guys get taken
out of the pilot seat and suddenly they forget what it's like to have
inches of plexisteel between you and death."
"This is messed up," Starrunner agreed. "You heard how
accurate those Borg can get. They're asking us to basically die when
we can't fight back. And do you think my bombers have a chance of
staying ahead and outmaneuvering these Borg?"
"Not without cover," Taar said. He sighed, then rapped his
datapad on the hull a couple of times. "Lohl," he said finally,
"let's get our squadrons together for some simulations. Maybe there's
a way we can fight back against the Borg after all."

Jean-luc Picard, captain of the Federation flagship,
Enterprise, sighed with impatience as he waited outside the office of
Adm. Parks. After six weeks of separation from my ship you would
think I'd be used to it, he thought gloomily. He wasn't accustomed to
being out of the loop, at least not when it came to the Enterprise.
That Data, Geordi, and his engineering staff were allowed on board was
all the more infuriating, but at least now he could speak to someone
who could give him information, maybe even access to his ship again.
He got to his feet as that someone arrived.
"Apologies for the delay, Jean-luc," Adm. Parks said, shaking
his hand.
"Not at all," Picard lied. "It seems these days time is
something I have plenty of."
Parks laughed as he led Picard into his office. "Yes, there's
a fine line between R&R and boredom, isn't there."
"Exactly," Picard said, hoping this meant the admiral was
going to let him in on what was happening.
Parks took his seat, offering Picard a chair as he did.
"Jean-luc, I know it's not easy being kept in the dark on what goes on
on your own vessel, but believe me, it's in the name of Federation
security."
"Indeed," Picard said neutrally. It seemed to him that a lot
was being done in the name of Federation security lately, and he
wasn't all that pleased with where that was leading. The declaration
of martial law remained a particular sore spot with him, and a
reminder that their society was not as rock-solid as he'd like to
think.
"We have an opportunity to forever change the balance of power
in this quadrant," Parks continued. "A chance to ensure that the
Romulans, the Cardassians, not even the Dominion will be able to
threaten the Federation again."
"A new weapon?"
"An ally," Parks answered. "Someone with resources and
technology that, along with our own strength, will deter practically
any power that might try to wage war on us."
"And you're afraid someone might form a treaty with these
people first," Picard said.
"Not exactly. No one can reach them in any reasonable amount
of time; they exist on the other side of a wormhole that's over
halfway across the galaxy."
Picard was a bit baffled. "I'm not sure I understand. How
helpful can this power be if it would take decades just to reach
them?"
Parks smiled. "Because right now we're the only ones who can
reach them without taking decades." He explained to Picard about
Voyager's encounter with the Borg, the Empire, and the new hyperdrive.
"And this is what you've been doing with the Enterprise all
this time," Picard concluded at the end. "Installing this
hyperdrive."
"Yes," Parks confirmed. "You can see the need for security.
Even without the possibility of an alliance, the ability to deploy our
forces at hundreds of times the speed of our enemies gives us an
incredible advantage. If that technology were stolen, it could be
damning."
"I understand," Picard added. "But there's something I'm not
clear on. If this treaty with the Empire is so important, why did we
not send Voyager? They have a functioning hyperdrive."
"Yes, but that's about all that's functioning. Voyager's been
flying through Borg space for some time; she wasn't in the best shape
when she returned. And besides that, a mission of this importance
requires a captain with a skill for diplomacy, and I think there's no
one better qualified."
With each passing second the frustrations of the previous
weeks was replaced with anticipation as Picard thought of the
magnitude of this mission. A mission of diplomacy to a civilization
that spanned an entire galaxy was beyond the expectations of even the
most fanciful cadets. "When do we leave?" he asked, now all the more
impatient to get back to his ship and begin this historic trip.
"Three days," Parks replied. "The hyperdrive should be
finished tomorrow, which should give your people enough time to
familiarize themselves with the new equipment and prep for the
mission."
"Will Captain Janeway be giving us a briefing?"
"Better. She's re-assigning a member of her crew to act as
your advisor on both the delta quadrant and the Galactic Empire."
"Who?"
"She hasn't decided yet," Parks answered. "She needs someone
who's not only familiar with their technology, but has expertise in
delta quadrant astrometrics and dealings with the Imperials. Finding
someone who fits that bill won't be easy, and giving them up will
probably be even harder."
"Well," Picard said as he rose to his feet, "I'll certainly
look forward to meeting whoever is up to that challenge."

Seven of Nine walked through the door to the captain's ready
room. As always, Capt. Janeway was seated behind her desk, a PADD in
one hand, a mug of coffee in the other. She was nothing if not
predictable. "You wished to see me, captain," Seven stated.
Janeway continued to look at the PADD. "Yes, Seven, please sit
down."
"Unnecessary, I'm comfortable standing."
Janeway put down the PADD. "Yes, of course you are. I forgot,
the Borg even sleep standing."
"Inaccurate. The Borg regenerate, they do not sleep."
Janeway came around and sat on the edge of her desk. "Yes...."
Janeway continued after a brief pause. "Everything is in order, all
damage to the ship has been repaired, and I've finally got my private
dining room back," she added with a slight smile. "Some of the Maquis
officers have asked to transfer to Starfleet, and permission has been
granted for them to remain at their current posts. I've even persuaded
them to keep the Doctor on line as our chief medical officer, although
that took a little convincing."
"I assume you're not updating the ship's status with the
entire crew in this manner."
"No." Janeway had a look of disappointment. "That leaves us
with our two resident civilians. Mr. Neelix has already departed. That
leaves us with you."
Seven breathed a little heavily, then began to speak. "If you
do not wish me to remain on board I will leave. I understand that
circumstances have changed."
Janeway stepped forward and grabbed Seven's hand. "That's not
what I'm saying. You've been an asset to this ship. There's a chance
that we wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. We don't want you to
leave. But it would be selfish of us to force you to remain on board.
We'd be denying you new experiences, a chance to explore your
humanity." Seven was uncharacteristically silent. "Going from life
on Voyager to life on Earth isn't going to be an easy transition,"
Janeway continued. "I think that's obvious to the both of us."
Seven nodded slowly, not looking at her captain. "Adapting
would be... difficult."
"Perhaps it's time for a small step in the right direction."
Janeway turned and picked up the PADD off her desk. "And I think we
have the perfect opportunity for you to take that step. Tell me, are
you familiar at all with the Enterprise?"



CHAPTER V.

"There is something wrong."
It was the voice you hoped to never hear, especially directed
at yourself. It was, on its own intimidating, with its resonant bass
overlaid on that haunting rhythm. The mechanical breathing chilled,
as if a subtle reminder of universal mortality. Yet even then the
voice did nothing to prepare you for the man; two meters of strength
embodied in flesh and machinery. An imposing body that was completed
by an expressionless mask for a face to leave this man all the more
inhuman. Throughout the Empire his reputation was so legendary, so
terrifying, he literally needed no introduction.
Commander Pakkib knew that reputation as well, and ever since
the Dark Lord of the Sith had arrived on the incomplete Death Star he
had felt fear gnawing at his entrails. The personal inspection had
gripped the entire station with similar despair, given that Darth
Vader's disappointment rarely led to anything but death. At the
moment, he sounded too disappointed for Pakkib's liking.
"What's seems to be the problem, my lord," Pakkib managed to
ask. While he knew of nothing wrong, it was obvious contradicting
Vader could only make things worse.
"A tremor in the Force," Vader declared. No one knew if he
was staring at them behind that mask, but no one made any effort to
draw attention to themselves. Commander Pakkib tried to ignore the
beads of sweat that were forming on his forehead with each inhale and
exhale. "I want a complete check of the computer systems," Vader
finally said. "And I want it done manually. Every last bit is to be
analyzed."
"Understood my Lord," Pakkib replied. He swallowed slightly
and continued. "But I must tell you that it will take several
technicians to complete this assignment. It may start putting us
behind." Better to face Lord Vader's wrath now than live in fear of
its approach.
"Perhaps someone else could impel them to remain on schedule."
"No," Pakkib said, perhaps a bit too quickly. "I was just
keeping your lordship appraised. We will remain on schedule."
"Good," Vader implied, but there was no trace of satisfaction.
"I'll expect your report very soon."
The anticipation was now far worse than whatever punishment
the dark lord might offer. Pakkib turned to three of his technicians.
"You are relieved of your current assignment. Your new task is to
carry out Lord Vader's command - any anomalous files are to be
analyzed in detail. This is your top priority." He turned to the
others present. "The rest of you continue. We will remain on
schedule, whatever the cost," he declared. Several hours later,
one of the technicians hailed him on the comm system, his voice
betraying obvious surprise and concern. "Sir," he said, "we've found
what looks like some kind of droid memory file in the main computer."
"What?" Droid memory files are rarely backed up at all, and
definitely wouldn't be stored in an area where it could potentially
access vital systems. Having it on the main computer of a Death Star
was about as bad as it could possibly get. "Erase the file
immediately," he ordered. The technician acknowledged it, but a
second later there was the sound of blaster fire and screaming. The
autodefenses had killed him and the other two members of his team.
Pakkib realized he was wrong; the worst it could possibly be was a
hostile droid with control of the station. Chaos descended as Pakkib
and his men began trying to isolate the rogue program, but apparently
during all this time, the droid mind had been searching for ways to
get around them. Every time they tried to throw up a programming
wall, the droid found a way to bypass it. Every time they tried to
physically remove its connection, they were attacked by the automated
defenses. As the droid continued to assert more and more control
Pakkib began contemplating the only solution: evacuate the station and
overload the reactor. It would be a disaster, but nothing compared to
a rogue Death Star.
"What's the situation?" Vader demanded, causing Pakkib to
visibly jump. Pakkib quickly filled him in. "The main computer is
located in there?" he asked, pointing at the doorway.
Pakkib nodded. "But the defenses have been activated, which
means the laser gate's armed and the computer's shielded, so we can't
shoot it. We'd have to cut the power at the junction but it's
impossible to reach from outside the room.
Vader walked up to the door to examine it. Beyond, he could
see the dead bodies of the other technicians. The lasergate was the
ultimate deterrent. Anything trying to penetrate would be blasted, and
any attempt to destroy the weapons would cause an explosion strong
enough to kill any would be invader. A perfect barrier - for anyone
who wasn't a master of the dark side. The crew looked on in
astonishment as Vader took three steps back, then ran and dove through
the opening. The weapons fired, but the Dark Lord twisted his body to
avoid most of them. One blast did strike just below his right
shoulder, but the beam dissipated with no effect. Vader rolled once
across the floor and into a fighting stance, his lightsaber ignited.
Automatic security devices began firing, and the blade snapped out and
deflected them. One, two, then the third came and he deflected it
right into the junction, causing the shield around the main computer
to collapse. He sprang, cape billowing behind him, lightsaber
continuing to snatch the blaster bolts out of the air until he landed
and stabbed straight through the casing. After that, there was
silence, save for the sizzling sound of broken electronics.
Pakkib was so shocked at what had just happened that it didn't
really register until the dark lord was standing right in front of
him. His awe gave way slowly to fear; he noticed several technicians
jump when the lightsaber was turned off. "Who was responsible for
checking the programming of that computer?" he demanded.
Pakkib hesitated for a moment, while the various parts of his
brain tried to shake themselves loose to dig through the metaphorical
files. "Lt. Teklif, my lord."
Vader turned and looked over the assembled group; they shrank
back as the blank mask passed over them. "You are aware that this
incident will put us even farther behind schedule?" Vader asked.
Pakkib nodded. "Yes," was all he could say.
Immediately, one of the technician's eyes grew wide and he
began grasping at his throat. Those who were nearby began moving away
slowly as his eyes rolled up into his head and he fell to the floor.
Vader turned back to Pakkib, who closed his eyes. At least it would
be relatively quick, if not particularly pleasant. But instead of the
grip on his throat, Vader began to walk away. "Inform your superior
that you will need a new computer." He paused, then turned back. "And
a new technician."

"Admiral," the captain said, and Piett walked over to the comm
station. There were still a few patrols that hadn't reported in yet;
perhaps this was the lead they'd been looking for. Combing through
this galaxy was almost as bad as some areas of the Outer Rim; finding
the worlds of these Borg that had bloodied Thrawn's nose was proving
difficult.
The communications officer spoke up. "Sir, Scoutships are
reporting in from Sector 17. They've found a planet, technology seems
similar to the one our sensors detected."
"More than likely it's our Borg boogeymen," the captain said.
Piett nodded. "And if not, they could probably point us in
the right direction. Alert all commands, converge on those
coordinates." And with that order, the fleet of star destroyers
slipped into hyperspace.

Picard had been waiting in his ready room when she arrived.
He'd been looking over the mission details, and he had to admit that
he was practically as giddy as a fresh graduate taking his first
assignment. The idea of opening diplomatic relations with a
civilization as vast, ancient, and advanced as the Galactic Empire
went beyond even the pipedreams of young cadets. Sure, he wasn't
going to be actually engaged in negotiations -the delegates on board
would handle that- but he'd be the one to get the foot in the door.
When the door chimed he gave his standard "Come!" without even pausing
in thought. But the sight of her was like dropping several tons of
lumber on his mental railroad tracks.
She was dressed in a blue full body suit rather than a
uniform, along with a pair of high-heeled boots. The fact that it
emphasized her highly-attractive figure, however, didn't really
matter. For Picard, it was her face, her hand, the tell-tale signs of
the one and only civilization that used that particular type of
technology. She is, or was, Borg. "Annika Hansen?" he asked in a
voice that said he couldn't imagine the answer to that question being
"Yes."
The woman had been examining the room, more like analyzing
given the way her eyes seemed to dwell on things. "I suppose that was
the name you were provided," she said. "As you are the commanding
officer of this vessel, you may choose to address me by that
designation, though I should warn you that simply using it will not
make me become that person."
Picard was now kicking himself for spending too much time
looking over the mission details and not taking the time to check the
new crewman's file beyond her name... and it seemed that even that
data had been flawed. "What would you prefer?"
"I am Seven of Nine Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One.
But you may call me Seven of Nine."
Picard nodded to himself. The commander of this mission is
the only Starfleet officer to escape assimilation, and he's going to
meet with the Empire immediately after the Borg destroyed one of their
ships, so naturally Janeway would choose to send a Borg as his
advisor. No wonder they didn't want Voyager handling the diplomacy.
"You are a Borg, yes?" he asked, just to be certain.
"I am no longer a member of the collective, I am an
individual," Seven informed him.
"Yes, I can see that," Picard said in a neutral tone. "Then
you must know about me."
"Our thoughts were one for a time, Captain Picard," Seven
said. "But the irrelevant details of your life are not known to me.
Am I too assume that this won't be a hindrance to my assignment?"
"I would never allow my personal feelings to interfere in my
duty." Picard stopped. Why did he say that? That implied there were
some personal feelings involved! "You are familiar with the Empire?"
"Yes, captain," Seven said. "I was involved in most of our
direct meetings and have first-hand experience with their technology.
I have also been briefed on the experiences of others."
"Good, we'll need you to avoid any missteps. I don't think I
have to tell you how important this meeting will be for us. The
Empire could be a powerful friend, or a lethal enemy."
"Agreed," Seven said. "I will ensure that you are adequately
advised in all circumstances."
Picard nodded slowly. "Your quarters have already been
assigned. Do you have any special needs we should be aware of?"
"Yes," Seven said. "I assume I will be provided standard
quarters. The bed can be removed; I do not require sleep. I will,
however, require a power conduit be adapted to interface with my
systems."
"You need an alcove, is that what you're saying?"
"Yes, captain." She noticed the tone in his voice. "Is that
a problem captain?"
"So long as you don't go assimilating our ship, no," he said,
then mentally kicked himself for the remark. That's twice she's
gotten under your skin, Jean-luc, he thought. And it's not her doing
it, it's you! "Inform Commander Riker, he'll make the arrangements.
If there's nothing else..."
"No, sir."
"Dismissed." Seven nodded and left. Picard dropped the PADD
on the desk. How was he going to open diplomatic relations with
another galaxy if he couldn't get along with his own crewmen?

The Executor and the rest of its fleet exited hyperspace; five
Borg cubes waited for them. They weren't the first they'd
encountered, but it was the first time that the Borg would be on the
receiving end, and the first time Piett had a speech of his own.
"Transmission coming in, sir," the communication officer said. Piett
nodded and it came over the speaker, thousands speaking a single
chant.
"We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your
ships. We will add your..."
"That's enough," Piett said, and the transmission was cut off.
"Ready our reply." He waited until the officer nodded. "This is
Admiral Piett of the Galactic Empire. You have violated our space and
repeatedly attacked our ships without provocation. This will not be
tolerated." He turned to the captain. "Alert all commands, engage
and destroy."
As the fleet closed in on the Borg world, the cubes rushed to
engage them. As before, despite their adaptations, the turbolaser
blasts tore massive holes in their ships. Still, the Collective
seemed to press on despite the obvious damage, like an animal that had
become so rabid it wouldn't stop attacking even if it was being killed
by the defender. However, the Borg weren't animals, they were logical
and unemotional, so they ignored the damage and instead concentrated
their attacks on a single star destroyer. Despite the heavy damage
they managed to batter the ship's shields down. They bombarded the
ship with bluish-green bombs, which seemed to act as a kind of ion
blast. The star destroyer's weapons were becoming less and less
effective as the seconds passed.
But outnumbered and outgunned, the cubes couldn't stand up to
the rest of the fleet. The last of the cubes was reduced to
fragments. "Report," Piett ordered.
"All ships are reporting no damage, sir," the captain said.
"Except the Tyrant. Captain Lennox reports that the damage to many of
their systems is serious; they'll need to return to the station to
make repairs."
Piett nodded. "Send them to Base One. Once the ship's
functional, I want it back here with the fleet." The captain nodded
and passed the message along. As the Tyrant limped off, the rest of
the fleet closed in on the planet. "We'll show these Borg whose
resistance is futile." The Imperial fleet bombarded the planet; the
Borg offered no resistance. Within minutes every square meter of the
crust had been reduced to smoking craters.

Picard exited his ready room. "I assume we're ready, Number
One?" he asked.
"Ready as we'll ever be, sir," Riker said. "Mr. LaForge says
all systems are go."
"Helm, take us out of Spacedock; let's see what this engine
can do." He took his seat; Riker was on his right as usual, while
Seven had been provided the one normally allotted to Counselor Troi
for the purpose of the mission. He watched as the doorway opened to
allow the massive Sovereign-class ship to exit. "The anticipation is
unnerving," he confessed to Riker.
"I feel a bit like Zephram Cochrane," Riker admitted. "Brand
new propulsion system, first contact."
"Except we're not first, Will," Picard reminded him. "We're
just making this trip. Everyone knows Armstrong and Aldrin were
first, who remembers the second?"
"Peter Conrad and Alan Bean, sir," Data said.
Picard turned to him. "Thank you, Mr. Data," he said.
Data nodded. "In ten seconds we will be far enough outside
the Earth's gravity well to engage the hyperdrive, captain."
"And we'll see if it's everything we've been told it'd be."
"The technology is effective," Seven informed him.
"I'm sure it is," Picard replied. "On my mark, helm...
engage." And with that the stars began to lengthen and twist into
starlines, and suddenly, they were gone.



CHAPTER VI.

Even after six days, Picard still couldn't get over the eerie
feeling he had whenever he looked out the window of the Enterprise.
Instead of the familiar streak of stars, there was an unnatural flow
of...something. He didn't know how to describe it; hyperspace is what
Seven of Nine called it. Whatever it was, it felt wrong. Still, that
was the price that came from crossing the galaxy at such fantastic
speeds, and if a journey of decades can be reduced to days, Picard
conceded hyperspace could look as ugly as it liked.
Lt. Commander Data's voice brought him back to the present.
"We'll be approaching the wormhole in fifteen seconds, captain."
Picard acknowledged, and waited, then on Data's order helm shut down
the hyperdrive, and hyperspace turned to starlines, then collapsed
back into the familiar view of real space, fifty thousand light-years
now behind them.... and one very massive object in front of them.
"All stop." Picard ordered. "What is that?"
"It appears to be some kind of space station sir," Data
informed him. "Although I am not familiar with any of its design
patterns."
Seven of Nine turned to the captain. "It's similar in size and
appearance to the Imperial station where Voyager was repaired. It's
likely the Empire constructed it to guard the passage to the wormhole
from future Borg attacks."
"Captain," Data continued, "I'm also detecting a vessel, 1.6
kilometers in length."
Riker turned to Picard. "Big ship."
"It is an Imperator-class Star Destroyer," Seven of Nine
informed him. "We encountered three such ships when we first made
contact."
"Star...Destroyer?" Picard asked hoping that wasn't meant to
be taken literally.
"Merely its designation captain. Its weapons output is
insufficient to destroy a solar body."
Picard acknowledged and turned to Lt. Thomas McClure. "Use the
modifications to the deflector you were given. Open a channel."
McClure gave Picard a nod. "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the
USS Enterprise. I'm here on behalf of the United Federation of
Planets. Is this the Galactic Empire?"
Finally, there was a response. "This is Commander Crovix.
State your business Enterprise."
"Not exactly friendly," Riker commented.
"But understandable under the circumstances, Number One,"
Picard replied. "Open the channel again." McClure did so. "We are
here to open negotiations with the Empire. We wish to use the
wormhole to travel to meet with your leaders."
"Stand by Enterprise," was their only response.
"Captain," Lt. Travis spoke, "a ship -possibly a shuttle- has
left the station and is heading for the wormhole."
"No doubt to check with their superiors on the other side,"
Picard noted.
Data turned to Picard. "Captain, sensors indicate familiar
energy signatures coming from the Star Destroyer. The energy
signatures are consistent with those left behind by Borg weaponry."
Picard turned to Seven of Nine. "Could this have been one of
the vessels that battled the Borg when Voyager was here?"
"Possibly," Seven admitted. With that, she got up and strode
towards the viewer. "Focus on the ship and magnify by a factor of 27,"
she ordered.
Data looked to Picard, who nodded. A close up view of the
plate revealed a very faint pattern on the ships hull.
"This is not the same ship," Seven stated. "The markings on
the hull are not the same."
"It seems that the Empire has had more run-ins with the Borg,"
Picard said. "Data, any similar signs of damage to the station?"
"No, sir. It would seem that this was not a defensive
battle."
"Which leads us to only one conclusion," Picard said. "This
station isn't the front line of defense, it's their fallback point.
They've come to fight the Borg."
"Who seeks out the Borg?" Riker asked. "It's bad enough when
they come to you, why go looking for them?"
"That certainly is a good question, Number One. One I hope to
find an answer to."
Before the discussion could continue a communication came in
from the station. "Permission has been granted to enter the wormhole.
Once you pass through, you are to rendezvous with the Star Destroyer
Incaciad."
"That is the command vessel of Admiral Thrawn," Seven informed
the captain, taking her seat.
"Janeway's savior," Picard said. "Acknowledge the
transmission. Set course for the wormhole half impulse. Engage."
And with that, the Enterprise proceeded to the wormhole, and
disappeared from the galaxy.

"Attention! Borg ships approaching. Prep all TIEs for
immeditate launch."
Delric Taar blocked out the redundant commands echoing
throughout the hangar and headed for his ship. The launch crews had
been on constant alert, and Taar knew his interceptor would already be
set for launch as soon as he reached it. He checked the rest of his
squadron before sealing the hatch, then fired the twin ion engines and
roared out into space, his squadron close behind. They slipped into
formation, Taar taking the point while his wingman slipped into his
eight. As they swept around, he counted no less than seven Borg
cubes. Numbers were still on the Empire's side, but the Borg had a
knack for bringing something new to the party; apparently Piett had
decided it was time to do the same.
"Grey leader this is Ebony leader," Taar said. It was time to
put theory into practice, and hope they didn't kill themselves during
the experiment. "We're going to cross the tee on cube three port."
"Acknowledged," was the response from Lt. Starrunner. As the
TIEs approached the cube, their ranks broke, shifting to a four-point
diamond pattern. Ebony 1 took the point of the lead formation,
leading the way towards the right-hand side of the Cube. At a
kilometer out the fomations broke away from one another, looking for
targets of opportunity. The ships began taking random dips and slides
as they approached, trying to reach that age-old balance of being
evasive while staying on target. "Prime target located," Grey 3 said
as the coordinates were sent to his targeting computer. The small
formation made a slight course change and continued - Ebony 1 still in
the lead with Grey 3 at the rear of the formation. It was a risky
situation; the Interceptors were only flying at a fraction of their
top speed at the moment to allow him to keep in formation. But it was
the best plan he had for the moment.
The cube loomed through the transparisteel window at the front
of his TIE. This is nuts, he thought to himself. You don't go after
blockade runners with Interceptors, nevermind something like this! "I
have a visual on the target," Taar said aloud. It seemed to be a
weapons array of some kind. They raced towards it, then on cue, the
two TIEs on his eight and four moved accelerated forward, guns
blazing. Their laser cannons splashed across the surface of the
array, but there was little to show for it. The Borg fired back,
narrowly missing Ebony 2. It had been random luck that he'd survived,
but turning back wasn't an option, so they continued to fire at the
array for all the good it seemed to do.
"Break formation!" Taar ordered, and the three ships split off
from one another. Grey 3, now with a clear shot at the weakened
structure, launched three concussion missiles before pulling away. The
missiles slammed into their target, vaporizing it.
"Ebony 2 and 3, form up," Taar ordered. "Grey 3 strafing run,
we'll cover." The others acknowledged as he swung away from the cube
for the moment. Beyond it he saw the Avenger and Devastator advancing
on the Borg's right flank. Turbolasers and Borg energy beams
crisscrossed space, putting their puny fighter attacks to shame. Did
I say this was nuts? he thought. I mean this is pointless! It's not
like the Empire isn't going to win this fight regardless of the
fighters, why did Piett tip their hand?! But it didn't fall to grunts
like him to make those calls, so instead he executed a tight spin to
join in on this suicide run.
The diamond formation quickly formed up and raced over the
surface of the cube at a mere fifteen meters. The three Interceptors
tried providing cover fire for the Grey 3, who was pelting the surface
with proton bombs. Half-way across the cube he pushed them to full
throttle, leaving the bomber behind but hopefully providing more of a
distraction by firing at targets of opportunity. But one problem with
the Borg was they just didn't take to distractions, and a green
torpedo rose up from the surface and hit the bomber, sending the two
pods spiral away and crashing into the surface of the cube. "Pull
up!" Taar ordered, but this time an energy beam came up and caught
Ebony 2, disintegrating it. Adrenal flooding his veins, Taar put the
ship into a Korvel Spiral as he raced away, torpedoes filling the air
around him. Finally he pulled clear and formed up with Ebony 3.
"Ebony Leader to Grey Leader, we've lost our bomber." The command was
acknowledged, but apparently things hadn't been going well for
Starrunner's boys. As Taar brought the ship around he saw that the
Borg were laying into the Avenger and Devastator, much like they had
against the Tyrant. Taar's stomach tightened at the sight. The Borg
didn't care how much damage they suffered so long as they continued to
wear the Empire down. They could lose ten ships for every one they
destroyed, and it wouldn't matter. How do you fight someone like
that?
"Grey Leader to Ebony Leader, head to point 03." Taar pulled
him and his wingmate around to return to their cube, joining up with
another set of TIEs to provide cover for the next bombing run. The
new formation -five Interceptors and two bombers- once again skimmed
the surface, weapons lashing out at the cube. Again, as if out of no
where, weapons fire struck at the tiny ships, vaporizing two TIEs
instantly. To avoid being struck by the weapons and debris, Taar
pulled a split-S, pulling away from the cube momentarily before his
spin brought him back thirty meters behind his bombers, who continued
their strafing of the cube despite the attack. Taar planned to
increase speed and overshoot the bombers to provide further cover when
he passed over one of the craters formed by a proton bomb. Taar
frowned at the information his targeting sensors were telling him.
"Ebony 3 do you see what I see?" he called over the comm.
"Yes sir," ES-13-3 replied. "What do you want to do?"
Ebony 1 pulled into a tight loop and began heading for the
crater. "Put some plasma up their collective port," he told him as he
opened fire on the crater. The weapons' fire managed to destroy the
unshielded bottom of the crater, opening up a passage into the heart
of the cube. Throttling back, the two TIEs dove into the entrance to
the Borg ship, firing at their unshielded surfaces. The cubes may
have had the power to adapt to their laser cannons, but the raw power
was too much for the helpless drones inside.
After about seven hundred meters the two TIEs blasted their
way into a large opening inside the cube. In the center of this space
was a large, hour-glass shaped structure with several openings along
its sides. Taar looked at his instruments. "What do you think Ebony
3?"
"Looks like a target to me, sir," ES-13-3 called back to him
over the comm.
Taar smiled inside his pressure suit. "Agreed. Fire at will."
The two Interceptors continued their approach, their weapons blowing
away huge chunks out of the shape. Manueverability was difficult, even
at low speeds in this confined area. Finally, their weapons sheared
through the construct and Taar watched the huge structure collapse in
on itself. Immediately, explosions began occurring throughout the
cube. The two TIEs turned to continue their volley, when a nearby
explosion knocked Ebony 3 off course and into the wall, exploding on
contact. Figuring he'd done enough damage in here, Taar headed for
the opening to go back to the surface. The series of explosions were
getting worse, and he started pushing the ship faster and faster. This
proved to be a near fatal mistake as the passage suddenly narrowed
ahead. Quickly he twisted his ship on its side and dove into the
opening, his lower port solar panel scraping the edge of the passage.
It seems that even during that short battle, the Borg had managed to
repair some of their ship. Alarms were sounding and in desperation he
pushed the ship to full throttle and hoped like hell he'd get out
before the TIE or the cube blew.
Finally he rocketed out of the cube and launched back out into
space. Looking back, he saw explosions consuming various parts of the
cubes, and TIEs pulling away from its surface. A stardestroyer, the
Stalker actually, was finishing it off with a full barrage of
turbolaser fire. Moments after he had escaped, the cube exploded. A
single piece of debris, just a meter or so long, struck his TIE,
completely searing the struts that held it to the starboard solar
panels. The ship had been on its last legs before, now it was
completely out of control. The Interceptor wouldn't respond to his
controls and an energy surge was arcing through some of the panels.
Systems were failing, and in an act of desperation he tried to shut
down the engines. As he touched the panel, a surge of energy passed
through his pressurized suit and into his arm, flooding his body with
pain as he seized up. His eyes glazed over, and the universe, dark as
it was, became black.

War has been described as long periods of boredom interrupted
by short periods of excitement. At the moment, Picard felt that peace
didn't seem that different. After all the time he'd spent waiting for
his ship, and then all the time prepping for this meeting, the
ambassadors had taken over, and he was left twiddling his thumbs at an
Imperial station. It was the dawn of a new age, perhaps the most
exciting time for humanity since the discovery that we weren't alone
in the universe. At the moment, Picard felt like he was stuck in a
hole with his sensors off-line.
Picard had been lamenting the situation with Riker when the
door chimed. It was Seven; it seemed to always be Seven. She wasn't
a Borg, not really, but nevertheless, he had trouble letting his guard
down around her, despite how much advice she'd provided throughout the
mission. Maybe I've become set in my ways, he wondered. I can't
stand hyperspace, I can't stand my advisor, maybe this new age isn't
for old men like me. "Yes?" he asked, trying to sound neutral and
failing.
"Admiral Thrawn has asked me to deliver a proposition to you,"
Seven informed the captain in the matter-of-fact way she had. "He
suggests that, to help bridge the gap between our civilizations, we
have an exchange of cultural history."
"What exactly does he mean by that?" Riker asked. Riker had
been spending the time scanning comm channels, and the longer they
were delayed, the more he became suspicious of the Empire. Perhaps he
wasn't ready for this new age either, Picard thought.
Seven looked at the PADD. "'Poetry, art, important historical
events, literature' were the specific examples he gave."
Picard nodded; this was exactly what he needed. "Extend the
admiral our thanks, and begin assembling a historical/cultural
database to give to the Imperials."
"Are you sure that's wise, sir?" Riker asked. "We really
shouldn't be exchanging any information with them while the
negotiations take place."
Picard smiled slightly. "I'm not giving them the access codes
for Starfleet Command, Will. An exchange of culture would be a healthy
way to start this meeting, not to mention give us a chance to get to
know the Empire a little better."
"Honestly, sir, I think I'm getting to know them quite well."
"Will, there's healthy skepticism, and there's paranoia. I'm
sure there's nothing to fear in letting Admiral Thrawn examine our
works of art."

On board the Redemption. Mon Mothma stepped up to the central
platform. The high-ranking members of the Alliance were present; they
knew only that something urgent had come in, and rumors were it wasn't
good. From her grave tone, it seemed that would prove to be true.
"We've all been wondering what is going on lately, why the Emperor has
diverted ships and changed his personal agenda so much over the past
two months. We now have an answer." A hologram of a section of the
galaxy appeared, focusing in on one particular area until the whole
sector was revealed. "Located near the Napuli System is a wormhole to
another galaxy. The wormhole was discovered when ships from the other
side invaded our galaxy."
A small murmur of discussion began. Mon Mothma had to speak
up in order to be heard. "One is an antagonistic race called the Borg,
who attacked and destroyed one of the Star Destroyers in that area."
"I take it that's not the good news we'd like to think it is,"
Lando said.
"No. The data our spies have gathered shows that they will
attack anyone without provocation. They're extremely dangerous to
everyone, regardless of what side they're on."
"Dangerous enough that we should be worried?" Leia asked. "Is
there a chance that they'd destroy the Empire and threaten all of us?"
"It's not likely," Mon Mothma said.
"Will we help the Empire, if the situation comes down to it?"
Leia asked.
Mon Mothma hesitated. "Let's hope we won't have to make that
choice."
"Well, regardless of whose side they're on, at least it's
something to keep the Empire busy," Han pointed out.
"Yes," Mon Mothma replied, "and it's doing just that. The
Empire has sent a fleet in to deal with the Borg threat, and greater
security has been set up in that area of the galaxy."
"You said 'one,'" Wedge said. "I take it the Borg weren't
alone.
"No," Mon Mothma said. "The Empire has had some dealings with
another group from the other side of the wormhole. They have already
given information and technology to the Empire, and our spies indicate
they are planning on opening diplomatic relations with the Empire."
Leia finally spoke up. "What exactly is the position of this
group?" she asked. "What do they want in return for their aide?"
"From what our sources have gathered, an alliance," Mon Mothma
answered. The members of the Alliance looked at one another. The
Empire alone was bad enough. If they had new allies, allies with new
technology, then it was grim news for the struggling rebellion. "It
seems that we have a new enemy," she said, "and it's called the
Federation."



CHAPTER VII.

Taar opened his eyes slowly. There was a white blur in front
of him, slowly solidifying as the seconds ticked by until shapes
emerged. Finally, his vision seemed to clear up and he checked at his
arm. Yes, it was still there. Good. As advanced as cybernetics was,
he'd heard about more than one pilot who just couldn't handle a craft
the same again. There's something about the feel of a ship that can't
be duplicated by a piece of technology.
Taar gave the room the once over. The medlab didn't look like
the one on the Stalker; was he on the Executor? Before he could think
more about it the door opened; it was an aide rather than a medical
droid. This likely meant things were about to get worse. "Good
morning," the aide said as amicably as possible. "Glad to see that
you've returned to consciousness; we've got some matters to clear up.
It won't take but a moment." He pulled out datapad. "First, your suit
was completely overloaded, so we don't even have a name for you."
Taar winced slightly as he started to sit up. "Lt. Delric
Taar, ES-13-1 stationed on board the star destroyer Stalker."
The aide nodded slightly, "A squadron commander... good for
you."
Whatever, Taar thought. Save your condescension for someone
else. "What's the status of Ebony Squadron? How many survivors?"
"I'm asking the questions," the aide said sharply. "You can
check their status later, lieutenant." He paused briefly and then
continued. "I assume you were forced to abandon your craft?"
"Yes, there was-" Taar paused. So much had happened so fast.
"The cube exploded, the debris hit my craft. I was lucky to get out
alive."
"Mm," the aid responded with the expected degree of sympathy.
"Yes, well, everything seems to be in order," the aide concluded. It
was, after all, just a TIE; the Empire lost a few every day. If Taar
had lost a shuttle it would have involved an accident investigation,
but this drew little more than a glance. "The med-droid says you'll
be fit for duty the day after tomorrow. You'll have your orders then."
Then he turned and strode out.
With effort, Taar pulled himself up, silently cursing all
bureaucrats everywhere. "I'm asking the questions," he thought, and
it comes down to name and why his ship went kabloowie. Tiny men in
the grand scheme who push around bits in a datapad; just let me fly my
ship and lead my men and I'll do whatever you want. He searched
around until he found his code cylinder and plugged into the network.
With a slight note of surprise, he saw that he was on Base One, not
the Executor. They must have evacuated some of the wounded to save
space. He went on to check what information there was about the latest
battle with the Borg. It didn't paint a pretty picture. It had been
a victory, of course, but they'd lost the Devastator. This was a big
setback, even though it wasn't readily apparent. Not only had that
left the Imperial forces weaker, it also meant the Borg could win
battles due to sheer attrition. The Emperor's plan wasn't working;
the Borg weren't backing off, they were testing the Empire's limits.
They were planning something... he just hoped the admiral was capable
enough to see that and call in some reinforcements.
Taar's stomach tightened into a knot as he looked at the
fighter results. Only three of the pilots from Ebony squadron
survived, himself included. Starrunner and his boys had been
completely wiped out as well. At least they hadn't died for nothing;
the stats showed that weapons fire from the cubes Ebony and Grey
squadrons had attacked dropped by 38%. It was good from a tactical
standpoint, but losing so many of his men made it a bitter pill to
swallow.
Taar disconnected from the network and tried to sleep. He was
exhausted, but sleep didn't come easy. His mind was filled with
images of Borg drones being cut down by his laser cannons and of that
cube exploding from the inside out. He wanted to do that again... he
wanted to fly in there and blow the living crap out of them, like
pouring gasoline down an anthill and lighting a match. He forced
himself to put his thoughts aside and rest. Only if he properly
recovered would he get the chance to relive that vision.

The Emperor opened his eyes and watched Mara Jade continuing
her exercises. At the moment she was trying to move multiple objects
with her mind. Her frustration with her failure was obvious. "Good,"
he said, causing her to jerk slightly at his sudden comment. "Anger
is a source of power. Reach in and harness it, feel the hate flowing
through you, empowering you!" Mara nodded and went at it again with
renewed vigor. Soon objects were swirling around the throne room like
a whirlwind. They dropped when the Emperor's haunting chuckle reached
her ears. "Good, very good. You're learning well, my young
apprentice." He paused as the door opened and Darth Vader appeared.
Vader's walk slowed as he approached the throne, noting Mara's
presence. There was an undercurrent of mutual hate. "Leave us," the
Emperor told the girl, and she nodded and walked out. Vader stepped
before the Emperor and kneeled, rising only when he was told to.
"I sense something is troubling you, my friend," the Emperor
said.
"Yes, master." Vader paused. "'And there shall forever be no
more than two, one the master, and one his student, lest the way of
the Sith be lost forever.'" Vader said, quoting the words of Darth
Bane that had ensured the survival of the Sith for millennia. "Have
we given up on old ways?"
"Yes, we have," the Emperor said matter-of-factly. "No longer
do we lurk in the shadows, fearing the Jedi. I felt the disturbance
when that little green imp died; and with him dies the ways of the
Jedi. We are the only ones now who have the power of the Force, and
it is time we used it to the fullest."
"And so you train this one?" Vader asked. "She is nothing
more than a convenient spy-"
"I will decide who I will train," the Emperor said sharply. "I
train her as I will the young Skywalker. That was, after all, your
suggestion, Lord Vader." The Emperor gave a moment to reflect on that
fact. "I have foreseen her, Vader, leading our forces against our
enemies, with your son at her side."
"So he will join us."
"Oh yes. The details are difficult to see, but he will
embrace the power of the dark side."
"Forgive my doubt, my master," Vader said with a nod of
respect.
The Emperor nodded in return. "What is the status of the
Death Star?"
"It will be finished within the next ninety days, my master."
"I see it's not on schedule."
"No, the men have been suitably disciplined."
The Emperor's throne rotated slightly. "It is of no
consequence. It will serve its purpose when needed. I have summoned
you for an entirely different reason." Vader waited patiently, his
mechanical breathing the only sound filling the chamber. "I have
nearly completed negotiations with diplomats from the Federation, a
puny civilization in the galaxy beyond the wormhole. You will travel
with the diplomatic corps that returns to their homeworld."
"Why should we be concerned with this insignificant group?"
Vader asked.
"Because, the Federation is our foothold, Lord Vader. Through
them, we will seize control of their entire galaxy."

The Lambda-class shuttle slipped into hyperspace as Lt. Taar
moved into the $#@!pit of the small craft. He was the only passenger
on board the tiny shuttle, just him and a hold full of technical
equipment sent out to rendezvous with the fleet on the front line.
Taar wondered what was happening out there. The last engagement had
been the one he'd been in, just under a week ago. The Borg had
actually bloodied the Empire's nose that time, it should have only
strengthened their resolve... if Borg could have resolve, that is.
Instead they'd pulled back, left their worlds undefended. No, they
were up to something, and he didn't think he was going to like it when
he found it.
"So, why are you being sent off to Borg central?" the pilot
asked in an off the cuff way.
Taar looked him over for a moment before replying. "I'm
rendezvousing with my star destroyer. I was sent back to Base One to
get stitched up after the last engagement."
"Ah, let me guess, TIE pilot, right?"
"That's right," Taar said with disinterest.
The man gave a low whistle. "You know, they got two
categories for TIE fighter pilots: rookies, and frozen meat."
"Right," was Taar's only reply as he tried to ignore the
pilot. He didn't seem to take the hint.
"Happiest day of my life was when I was assigned to
transports," the pilot said with a grin. "The Imperial meat grinder
is not the place for me, no thank you

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr.Wizard02-19-2008, 11:15 PM
CHAPTER VIII.

The door opened for Picard, revealing the darkness of Thrawn's
office. He wondered if there'd been a mistake, but then he saw a
single source of light within. Slowly he stepped through the door and
heard the hiss as it closed behind him. As he approached he noticed
the light was coming from a hologram, a rather familiar hologram.
"Pardon my rudeness, captain," Thrawn said eventually, his eyes still
on the hologram. "I was just pondering this strange painting."
Picard walked up to Thrawn's side and looked as well. The
grand admiral was seated only a few meters away from the hologram of-
"The Mona Lisa," Picard said, "perhaps the most famous work of art in
Earth's history."
"Yes," Thrawn said as he leaned forward in his chair, "a
painting so simple and yet so - indefinable in its beauty. I have
been studying this great mystery for the past hour."
Picard smiled. "Scholars have spent their entire careers
studying this painting, trying to glean some insight. What does it
represent? How does it move us? What..."
"Yes, fascinating," Thrawn interrupted, "I was wondering why
she has no eyebrows."
Picard looked at Thrawn quizzically, and then back at the
painting. "Er, eyebrows, admiral?"
"She has no eyebrows," Thrawn said with a gesture of slight
confusion. "Why would the painting of Earth's most famous woman have
no eyebrows?" Picard was stricken rather dumb by the question. Thrawn
swiveled in his chair to face him. "My apologies, I do sometimes get
engrossed in these things." He looked Picard over for a moment.
"Capt. Jean-luc Picard, of the USS Enterprise, representative of the
United Federation of Planets, good to finally meet you face-to-face."
Picard responded in kind. Thrawn paused for a moment. "What does it
mean to 'strike the colors'?"
Picard was starting to wonder if Thrawn was some kind of
eccentric. The Incaciad had contacted them, requesting Picard to come
over in person right away, and it seemed all he wanted to talk about
were colors and eyebrows. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean,
admiral."
Thrawn smiled slightly, a somewhat chilling effect. "I was
reading about the USS Enterprise actually. No, not your ship, but its
namesake. Apparently in one of the ancient wars on your homeworld, a
ship called the USS Enterprise battled an enemy vessel, the HMS Boxer
during what was called the War of 1812."
Picard nodded as realization set in; he was naturally familiar
with the many namesakes of his ship. "Yes, in 1813 the two ships
engaged in battle off the eastern coast of what was then called the
United States. Two wooden vessels, their weapons limited to primitive
projectile launchers and their power provided by the wind."
"Yes," Thrawn nodded. "And during that battle, the commander
of the vessel, what was his name, oh yes, William Burrows, was killed.
And his last instruction to the crew was 'The colors must never be
struck.'" He looked at Picard. "So, again I ask, what does it mean
to 'strike the colors'?"
"In those days," Picard said, "a ship would fly flags on its
mast to show its allegiance. These flags were called 'colors.' To
strike the colors meant to raise the flag. That, at the time, was the
international sign for surrender."
"I see," Thrawn said. "So his final order was to never
surrender?"
"Yes," Picard answered, "the battle was too important. Burrows
knew that a defeat there would be a stepping stone for a total
invasion of the United States, and his country would be no more. For
him, that would have been the end of the world."
Thrawn nodded. "Yes, or course, sometimes sacrifices must be
made, to keep our worlds from ending." He seemed to ponder this.
"I've just received word from Coruscant," he said, shifting the
topical winds in a way that would no doubt impress William Burrows.
"The negotiations are nearing completion. One of the conditions is an
exchange of technology schematics." He reached over and pulled a
datapad out of a small case by his chair. "These will provide you
with information about the basics of many of our technologies."
Picard reached out and took it, wondering just what was
waiting for them in the electronic archive of the device. The
hyperdrive alone ensured that the galaxy would never be the same
again, how else would it change once these secrets were revealed?
"I'll have a similar collection of information prepared immediately,"
Picard told Thrawn.
Thrawn leaned forward towards Picard. "I'd like something in
particular, if you would be willing," he remarked. He looked at
Picard's face and smiled slightly, "Nothing remarkable. It is my
understanding that you and those who live in your part of the galaxy
use a different communications technology from ours. I'd be very
interested in seeing how it works."
Picard considered. "Subspace communication technology; that
won't be a problem. I'll make sure it's included in the report."
Thrawn nodded his head slightly. "Thank you captain."
With that, Picard turned to leave, just as the door opened, he
heard Thrawn call to him, "Captain." Picard turned back to the
admiral. "I look forward to working with you and the Federation. I
predict great things will come from this."
"As do I, admiral," Picard replied, and turned and left.
Moments later he was transported back to the Enterprise, his
excitement almost palpable. "Commander," he called as he entered the
bridge, "prepare a report for Admiral Thrawn on general Federation
technology. Have Mr. LaForge assist you. Make sure to include
detailed information on subspace communication technology."
"Sir?" Riker asked with some concern.
"There's been a breakthrough in the negotiations. We're
sharing basic information with our new ally. They have already given
us their technological report as a show of good faith."
Riker seemed momentarily hesitant, but he'd made his concerns
known repeatedly; doing so now, on the bridge, wouldn't be
appropriate. He nodded and set to work. "Data, Seven," Picard said,
"I want you two to go over this information. Memorize it, try to
understand as much as you can. I want daily reports on what you've
learned. This is your top priority."
"Understood, captain," Data said taking the datapad. He
nodded to Seven and the two walked off the bridge. Picard turned and
looked at the star destroyer on the viewscreen. "What strange new
world that has such people in it," he quoted.

Taar slowly opened his eyes and saw hyperspace swirling in
front of him. Quickly he leaned forward and hit the controls to bring
him back into real space. He glanced at the display; five hundred
light-years, in the wrong direction no less. It'd take the better
part of a day to make it back to Base One. But he was alive, and for
the moment, safe from the Borg. That's what counted. He punched in
the coordinates and returned to hyperspace, this time going the right
way. He wished he could send out a warning to them, but it was too
dangerous to give away his position. Besides, Base One had to have
heard about what had happened, and even that idiot aide would be smart
enough to call in some reinforcements.
With the ship on autopilot, Taar got up and tried to assess
the damage. Anything that wasn't nailed down had been sucked out
during the decompression, including the pilot. Taar really didn't
feel sorry for him, and it was certainly no great loss to the Empire.
Thankfully the equipment lockers had remained sealed, and he managed
to find some emergency rations. The low quality of field rations is a
universal constant, but Taar gorged himself on them as if it were
roast nerf with drippings. Finally, his physical needs tended to, he
began looking at the condition of the ship itself. Some damage had
been done to the ramp obviously, but it was still holding itself
together. If worse came to worse, he could always use a plasma torch
to cut through the viewplate in order to get out. The engines,
however, had been put under an even heavier strain during his escape.
The stress had caused some damage to the hyperdrive motivator, a
pretty serious problem considering he was flying through Borg space.
If he should be forced back into real space and run into even a single
cube, he'd have no hope. The weapons of this shuttle just aren't
strong enough to do any real damage, he thought. If they show up....
If they showed up, he'd follow Admiral Piett's example. Hopefully it
wouldn't come to that. In the meantime, he had a pretty long journey
ahead, so he settled back for some rest. It would be nice to be
unconscious voluntarily for a change, he thought as he stretched out
on the bunk and closed his eyes. Again, visions of dying Borg filled
his mind, and the twinges of a smile could be seen on his face.

The planet of Cordis hung against the backdrop of space, its
green surface flecked with streaks of brown, tapering to a pale blue
at its poles. Its reflected brightness, in contrast to the dotted
blackness of space, revealed a beauty that was both subtle and simple.
An ancient Caamasi poet once said that worlds are the jewels of space,
that even the most foul planet gained an elegance and sense of peace
that, for better or worse, it was a sanctuary. Unfortunately, peace,
beauty and sanctuary have no meaning to those who now approached the
calm world of Cordis. "Approaching planet in Grid 1092 of Unimatrix
02 prime, settlement of species 11035. Estimated population:
approximately 97,000,000. Scanning..." The four cubes hung over the
world. "Current population: 218,641. Commencing assimilation."
Grand Admiral Thrawn, having observed the effectiveness of the
Borg first hand, had recommended the Cordisi evacuate the world before
Piett had even arrived. Of course, there were always the brave,
foolish, stubborn, or just unlucky. They were there to hear the
message that broadcast on every frequency across the planet. "We are
the Borg. You will be assimilated. Your culture will adapt to
service us. Resistance is futile."
The Cordisi were a short species with a hardened exoskeleton
covered with thick hairs, and a long history of combat. Many of those
that stayed behind were members of combat orders that had passed down
their knowledge for ten thousand generations, and considered it an
unacceptable sin not to fight to defend their world to the bitter end.
They prepared traps and set up choke points, made contingency plans
for breaches. It was unfortunate, then, that the Borg didn't fight
that way, because perhaps then they might have had even a small
chance.
A beam lanced out from the cube in orbit over the city of
Ch'suvic and began ripping it apart. The Cordisi weren't sure how to
react when the pieces were scooped up and pulled into space. Someone
had found the controls to an old planetary ion cannon and blasted at
the cube. After a few shots, a green torpedo descended and struck the
facility, wiping out the complex while causing minimal damage to the
surrounding area. That was the most efficient.
The Cordisi drawn into the cubes were quickly disoriented and
captured. Some still attempted to resist even on board the cube, but
the approaching Borg overwhelmed them by sheer force of numbers. Just
hours after their arrival, the planet of Cordis had been stripped of
all technology and its entire sentient population. They were now one
with the Borg. The cubes departed, moving on towards the next target
for assimilation.

"Captain, the Incaciad is hailing us," said Lt. Travis.
"Onscreen," Picard ordered. Immediately the image of Admiral
Thrawn appeared, a thin smile on his face.
"Captain Picard," Thrawn said in a formal tone, "it is my
great pleasure to inform you that the negotiations have been a
success. As of thirty minutes ago, the Galactic Empire and the
Federation officially became military allies."
"That's good news admiral," Picard replied, trying to contain
his own excitement. The moment was finally here, he thought. Military
alliance, sure, but that was just getting the foot in the door. A
grand future for the Federation was beginning at this very moment, and
he and his crew had been an instrumental part of it. "How will we be
proceeding?"
"Some of the diplomatic party you brought will remain behind
on Imperial Center as the Federation ambassadors," Thrawn explained.
"The rest will be rendezvousing with us in five days. Also, the
ambassadors to the Federation from the Empire will be arriving with
them. Once they've all arrived, my ships will escort you to the
wormhole, and from there you can take them back to Earth."
"Very good," Picard replied, "Then, if there's nothing else,
admiral?"
"We'll contact you, should it be necessary," was Thrawn's only
reply. The screen then went blank.
Riker turned to his captain, "Well, it seems our mission has
been a success." Riker's tone was completely devoid of any irony;
either he'd come around or decided to keep his opinions on the Empire
to himself from now on.
"Indeed, Number One," Picard responded in good humor.
"Commander, I think this particular mission I have in mind will
require your expert talents."
"What do you mean sir?"
"I think that this is a cause for a celebration, don't you?"
Riker grinned, "Of course, sir. I'll use all my Starfleet
training, sir."
"Oh I hope not," Picard replied, "I was hoping for something
interesting for a change."

A small alarm went off on the control panel for the shuttle,
signaling that Taar was finally almost there, and safe. As the
countdown completed the ship slipped from hyperspace into real space
just twenty thousand kilometers from the station...or rather, where
the station was.
Taar's mouth fell open in disbelief. It was the Borg; they
must have learned where Base One was from the assimilated soldiers,
and now the station was next. He pounded the console; I should have
warned them, he chided himself. One man wasn't worth the risk!
Finally, reason overcame guilt. Okay, he hadn't warned Base
One in time, but this was obviously just a Borg stepping stone. He
had to get through the wormhole and warn the Empire before the Borg
swarmed over their galaxy. He pushed the battered engines to the
limit; it didn't matter if his ship died on the other side of the
wormhole, so long as he could get a message through.
Taar's stomach sank as he saw three of the cubes alter course
to intercept him. They were too fast; he'd never make it to the
wormhole... at least, not using the sublight engines. A microjump for
a ship like this, especially after all they'd been put through, was
stupid, but the sight of those Borg cubes enter tractor range made up
his mind. His hands flew over the controls and he yanked back on the
lever; just as the Borg cube's beam reached for his ship it shot
forward and disappeared.
Unfortunately, the damaged motivator wasn't up to the task,
and the ship flew at lightspeed right into the wormhole. The swirling
tunnel of hyperspace turned from a milky white to a smear of purple,
and then a violent red. It was the most unpleasant sensation of
Taar's sad little life, his body feeling forces acting on it evolution
had never had in mind. The "sky" outside churned and heaved like a
living organ trying to expel the tiny shuttle back to where it
belongs. There was the squeal of machinery going beyond design
limits, and the hyperdrive collapsed in on itself, dropping ship and
pilot back into real space. The ordeal made him want to curl up into
a fetal position and throw up for a while, but regardless of how he
felt he still had to give that warning, so he looked at the read-outs.
The sublight engines weren't functioning, the stabilizers weren't
operational and, oh, the remnants of the hyperdrive were actually on
fire, Taar thought in a detached sort of way. As the sound of the
sprays coming on filled the ship, Taar tried to figure out where he
was. No sign of Borg, he thought with some relief, which probably
meant he'd made it through the wormhole. He added this maneuver to
the list of things to never, ever, do again, and started checking over
the rest of the ship.
Most of the panels were off-line, including, he noted with
frustration, the communications array. Fortunately, he still had the
shuttle's emergency homing beacon, assuming he was even in the right
galaxy for the Empire to pick him up. But, like so many other things
on this trip, it was his only option. He didn't have the kind of
training to fix this, and even if he did, he doubted he even had the
right tools, what with everything being sucked out of the shuttle. He
activated the homing beacon, sat back, and waited. Just to be safe,
he gripped the small holdout blaster he'd found in an equipment
locker. "Hopefully it wouldn't come to that," he thought again, but
then thought, "only if my luck changes."

Talon Karrde was shaken awake by Roolith. "What is it?" he
groaned. He'd been up the previous thirty-six hours and was really
hoping to grab some kind of sleep before they hit the main trade
route. You had to be careful even out here on the rim; the Empire was
a lot swifter with their "justice" then they tended to be in the core.
"I think you'll want to hear this, Karrde," Roolith said,
flipping the comm switch. The voice was deafening.
"We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ship.
You will be assimilated; resistance is futile."
"What the hell was that?" Karrde demanded. He activated the
panel nearby, and two cube-shaped ships appeared; the scale made his
jaw drop. "What do you say we get out of here," he said, hopping out
of his cabin.
"I think the crew will back you up on that, Talon," Roolith
said, following him. Karrde paused as he saw the ships through the
viewscreen, and he wondered if his luck had finally run out.



CHAPTER IX.

Two days after the alliance had become official, Picard and
Seven were escorted aboard the Incaciad to meet with Admiral Thrawn in
person. No one had said why, but there was a grim atmosphere that was
impossible to ignore. The armored personnel, whom Picard had learned
were called "stormtroopers" -bringing up some rather nasty images from
his studies of the twentieth century- led him to the conference room
where Thrawn and several other high-ranking officers were waiting.
Thrawn motioned Picard and Seven to take a seat.
"I'm afraid we have some rather unpleasant business to
discuss," Thrawn began. "As you may or may not have known, the Empire
has been at war with the Borg for over a month now."
"Yes," Picard said, his voice even, "we noticed Borg weapon
signatures on one of your ships when we first arrived. We'd been
waiting to hear what exactly was going on."
Thrawn sighed and continued. "We sent a fleet of ships in to
deal with the Borg, to cause them some damage and show them we weren't
to be trifled with. Unfortunately, according to Lt. Taar," he nodded
in the direction of the scruffy looking gentlemen across the table
from Picard, "it seems we underestimated them. The Borg have defeated
our forces and assimilated our people."
Picard leaned forward in his chair, his mouth open in shock.
The Borg with Imperial technology, he thought. That was the worst
possible scenario he could imagine. "How did this happen?" Lt. Taar
went over what he had seen of the climactic battle between the Borg
and the Imperial fleet, of its annihilation, his near capture, and his
witnessing the destruction of Base One.
"Admiral Piett made a fatal error," Thrawn said. "He moved
the entire fleet in to bombard the planet, when the task could have
been completed by a single star destroyer. That led to their being
trapped."
Picard looked to Seven, his confusion evident. "The
hyperdrive can't be activated near a large gravitational field," she
explained. "I would surmise that the fleet was unable to activate the
drive and escape, and was then assimilated."
"Correct," Thrawn said. "And immediately they knew all that
we do, that's why they took over Base One."
"Yes, it seems your little war has backfired," Picard
commented despite himself. However much he wanted this alliance,
mixing things up with the Borg was always the last thing he wanted to
do.
"Our little war," Thrawn replied, "remember, we're allies
now."
"Yes, we will assist in whatever way we can," Picard added
diplomatically.
"Good, that's why I asked you to come to this meeting. We
need to know some things about the Borg."
Picard nodded slowly. "You mean our first hand experience as
Borg."
"Yes," Thrawn said. "We have tactical data. What we need is
someone with your unique experience. You two were both assimilated by
the Collective. You should be able to give me some insight into their
ways of thinking."
Picard let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't really know..."
"What do you wish to know?" Seven asked.
"The Borg have had access to much of our military technology,"
Thrawn said. "I've no doubt they've learned to use our hyperdrive for
certain, which means that their speed and range will be greater than
what it has been in the past. What I want to know is, will they come
through the wormhole, or continue to conquer in their own galaxy?"
Seven considered for a moment. "Did the members of your
personnel who were assimilated know of our involvement with you?"
Thrawn looked over at the man identified as Lt. Taar. "I
didn't know," Taar said. "But I can't speak for the senior officers."
"In either event," Picard said, "the personnel on the space
station, Base One, knew of our arrival. If the Borg assimilated them,
they'd know of our involvement."
Seven considered it all for a short time. "There is a small
possibility the Borg may attempt to assimilate the Federation since
the Borg know they possess similar technology." Seven paused for a
few seconds. "However, the most likely course of action would be to
come through the wormhole. They would perceive the Empire as an
immediate threat and attempt assimilation and/or extermination."
Quite the diplomat, Picard thought. "We'll have to warn
Starfleet," he said.
Thrawn shook his head while he thought. "Unwise captain. If
the Borg were planning on invading our galaxy they'd mass a fleet of
cubes on the other side, you'd never get through to reach them, and
your communications would take years to get to Earth."
"I understand the risks," Picard said. "But it's my duty to
warn the Federation of any threat, especially one from the Borg."
"I can't risk losing your ship, captain," Thrawn said. "You
and your people have been at this longer than we have-"
"Yes, which is why I've no interest in seeing us lose now,"
Picard said sharply. "All thanks to a war you started."
Thrawn leaned forward towards Picard. "We have lost ten star
destroyers, a space station, hundreds of thousands of lives, and our
greatest ship against an enemy that you introduced us to. If not for
the Federation, there would have been no war."
Picard paused. "My apologies, admiral. You're right, of
course. What do you propose?"
Thrawn signaled several of his aides, who got up and began
walking out. "I've had thirty Imperial Dreadnaughts on standby in
case of such an event. They'll be arriving here in twelve hours. I've
already evacuated Napuli, Cordis, Trelam, and issued warnings to all
systems within five hundred light-years. We'll be expecting
reinforcements from throughout the galaxy should a total invasion
begin. I'm also planning on speaking with the Emperor directly on
this."
"Are you planning to blockade the wormhole?"
"No," Thrawn said. "That would be a waste of resources in a
fruitless effort. The Borg will overrun us, assimilate the system
anyway, and then proceed to attack the rest of the galaxy, and that's
assuming they haven't already passed through the wormhole. No
captain, our best course of action is to remain here and await
reinforcements to ensure our victory. Now, if you'll excuse me,
captain, I have to speak with the Emperor."
Picard and Seven were escorted back to the shuttle. The
Incaciad had their shields up all the time now; now it was obvious
that it was in case the Borg returned. Seven took the controls,
Picard lounged back in thought. "What chance does the Federation
have?" he asked quietly.
"None, captain," Seven said. "The Borg's first failure was in
failing to consider that you may infiltrate non-critical systems yet
cause a critical failure. The second was assuming that since that was
the sole cause of their initial failure, that simply sending a cube
and avoiding such infiltration was all that was required. If the Borg
come again, it will be in superior numbers, captain, and even if the
Federation does succeed, the hyperdrive will allow the next wave to
come before you can recover from the first. If the Borg choose to
assimilate the Federation, warning or no, they cannot be stopped."
Picard tried to ignore the tightness in his chest, but it
wasn't easy. "How could they have done this so quickly?" he mused.
"It took Starfleet weeks to determine how to set up the hyperdrive,
and that was with one already integrated into our ships."
"They are Borg," Seven said, as if it said all. Sadly, it
did.
"How would you feel if Earth was assimilated?" Picard asked.
Seven looked over at him with that penetrating gaze of hers.
"I assume that question is intended to determine where my loyalties
lie."
"It would make me feel better to know you have a personal
stake in it," Picard said. Seven opened her mouth to reply, then
turned away. "I assume you don't."
"I- I had spent over two years with Voyager," Seven said
finally, still not looking at him. "Were the Borg to invade, they
would no doubt be part of those forced to defend Earth. It would
be... unpleasant to learn that any of them had been assimilated."
"So you do care, at least about them."
"I would not wish to see harm come to them," Seven said. "If
I may, captain, I find this conversation uncomfortable, and wish to
terminate it."
"Very well," Picard said, putting the information aside for
later consideration. He was wondering if there was more to his
advisor than her appearance suggested.

A large gathering had formed in the recreation area on board
Home One. Occasionally, a whispered comment was made, followed by
several noises for quiet. The rebels looked carefully at both sides,
trying to guess who would make the wrong move, and who would take
advantage of the other's momentary weakness.
Han slowly looked back from his hand to the man across the
table. Lando's face betrayed nothing, and the smuggler slowly removed
a card from his hand and placed it beneath the deck, replacing it with
one from the top. Now it was Lando's turn to consider his options.
Finally, he reached forward and drew a card off the top of the deck.
Leia, slowly slid through the crowd to get a good look at the
two men; gamblers, scoundrels, heroes. She shifted over by Wedge, who
had been forced out of the match by a bomb out. Han looked over at
Lando and gave a slight nod, and they both took two card from their
hands and placed them face up on the table. Curious, Leia whispered
to Wedge "What are they doing?" Very quietly, he replied,
"Mandolarian variant. No shifting, and you have to slowly reveal and
commit your hand." Looking back, she saw things were getting even
more interesting. Lando had laid the mistress of coins and the one of
staves, a rather gutsy move, committing him to a rather low card later
on. Han, however, surprised all with a two of staves and the idiot.
All he needed was the three of any suit for the idiot's array, the
highest possible sabacc hand. Acknowledging each other's hands, they
dropped more credits into the pots.
You could actually hear the sound of the cards sliding off the
deck as the game continued. Han continued to replace cards in his
hand, waiting for that game clinching three, while Lando steadily
continued, soon dropping a four of coins. Both men drew one more
card, and Lando announced that he was finished. Triumphantly, he
placed his final card: the five of sabers. A few gasps of surprise
were heard as they counted them up: a perfect sabacc. Lando had this
hand clinched, unless Han held a three.
Slowly Han reached out and placed his card on the bottom of
the deck. His fingers stopped just as he reached for the top card.
"I'll give you one chance to back out right now," he said to Lando.
Lando remained stone-faced, and Han shrugged to the crowd and
confidently flipped the top card onto the table. The crowd stared in
utter surprise. Han smiled and looked down at the card and then at
Lando, and then quickly back at the cards again. The queen of air and
darkness, giving Han a score of zero, which not only cost him the
match, but meant he had to double the value of the pot. Leia tried
not to laugh as Han looked back between his cards and Lando and his
cards again. As the crowd dispersed Han picked up the deck. "Are
there any threes in here," he mumbled, shuffling through the pile
while Lando laughed.
"Nice try," Lando said, looking through the pot, "That's quite
a sum you owe. Maybe I should just take your ship."
"Sure, no problem," Han said as he continued his quest for a
three, "would you like me to throw in my Wookiee too?" A growl from
nearby answered him. "Take it easy, Chewie, I'm only kidding."
Disgusted, he tossed the deck back on the table. "This isn't over
yet."
"Of course not," Lando said, "I don't have my money."
"Not to interrupt this display of respectability and
selflessness," Leia said, "but you're both needed at an important
meeting." Leia hadn't oversold it; Mon Mothma, Admiral Ackbar,
General Madine, and General Riekken were all on hand, and no one else.
This must have been something pretty big.
"I'm afraid that things in the Napuli System have gotten out
of hand," Mon Mothma said in a rather worried tone. "It seems the
aliens called the Borg have invaded our galaxy."
"We're sure about this?" Han asked.
General Madine spoke up. "One of my agents spoke with a Talon
Karrde; he encountered the Borg on his way back from a smuggling run
to Trelam II. The sensor data he provided confirms that it is the
Borg."
"Oh... great," Han said darkly.
"I want you all to appreciate the significance of this," Mon
Mothma said. "Not only did they overwhelm Lord Vader's hand-picked
fleet of star destroyers and the Executor, they destroyed an Imperial
battlestation that guards the wormhole. They are a grave threat."
"According to our sources," General Madine said, "the Empire
is massing a fleet of starships to attempt to destroy the Borg in one
stroke. They won't be in place for at least a week."
"Have we made our decision?" Lando asked. "Are we joining
forces with the Empire to fight the Borg?"
"Not at this time," Mon Mothma answered. "Though if they seem
to be overwhelming the Imperial fleet we may be forced into that
position. We cannot allow our worlds to be overrun by these
invaders."
Admiral Ackbar spoke up at this point. "There is, however, an
opportunity here that we could take advantage of. With the
battlestation out of the way there are no Imperial forces to stop us
from using the wormhole to go to the other galaxy."
"Well, yeah," Han said, "and with good reason. These Borg are
probably all over the system."
"Yes, but they're not concerned with guarding the wormhole,"
Mon Mothma said. "They more than likely are expecting an attack by
the Imperial fleet, not an attempt to sneak past them and into the
other galaxy. With surprise on our side and a little planning, we
should be able to get through the wormhole safely."
"Why would we want to go there?" Han asked. "What's so
important on the other side?"
General Madine hesitated, but spoke up. "We don't know.
That's why we need people to go there, to find out what the Empire is
involved in. There's got to be more to this galaxy than the
Federation and the Borg. We could find new allies, or at least those
who can tell us more about our new enemies."
General Riekken finally began speaking. "I've been asked to
organize the effort to establish a small base in the other galaxy.
Work's already begun on that, but what we'll also need in large
amounts are courage and," he floundered slightly, "your unique
talents."
Lando and Han looked at one another and back at the general.
"Look," Han said, "I'm willing to put my neck on the line, but I want
to know it's for a good reason."
"You volunteered for the Endor shield mission," Mon Mothma
pointed out. "That was a far greater risk than this."
Leia looked with some surprise at Han, but he pretended not to
notice. "Yeah, a risk, but a risk that could've ended this war in one
fell swoop. I don't mind risking my life for that, but risking it by
running past cyborgs and heading for the unknown just for the sake of
reconnaissance, that seems a little unnecessary."
"General Solo, if you don't want to go..." Mon Mothma began.
"I'm not saying that," Han insisted, "I'm just saying if we're
going to do this, we better do it right and we better be doing it for
a good reason. We'll be splitting up our forces, we'll be risking our
people, our resources..."
"We've considered this, Solo," Ackbar said, "and we've decided
it's worth the effort."
"Fine," Lando said, "so who's all going?"
"You and General Solo will be responsible for information
gathering," Riekken said. "Her highness," he nodded, indicating Leia,
"will be responsible for diplomacy, should it be necessary. Commander
Antilles will be responsible for fighter co-ordination, and Colonel
Derlin will be responsible for base security. I'll be in command of
the overall mission."
"Fine, when do we leave?" Han asked.
"Five days. That should give us plenty of time to get
everything assembled, and still beat the Imperials to the wormhole."
"The Empire's a piece of cake," Lando said. "It's the Borg
we've got to worry about."

The Emperor looked with some distaste at Thrawn as he appeared
in the hologram. He would have been such a great leader if he weren't
so....alien. "What is it, admiral?"
"It seems Piett and his fleet have failed, my lord," Thrawn
said. "He failed to follow instructions, and now he and all our
Imperial forces in the Milky Way have been either destroyed or
assimilated."
The Emperor felt his anger swelling, both at the situation,
and Thrawn's indirect implication that the Emperor's decision was
responsible. "How could this have happened?" Thrawn began to
explain, but the Emperor stopped him. "Nevermind! What have you done
to resolve this?"
"For the moment, I've activated our reserve forces," Thrawn
said. "But I don't believe it will be enough. Without greater
support, we may not succed..." Thrawn looked away for a few seconds.
"Apologies, your highness, it seems the Borg have arrived. They're on
a direct course for-"
Suddenly Thrawn's image vanished, and in its place stood a
large cybernetic being. The Emperor looked at it with disgust at
first, then recognized the face beneath the implants. Captain
Lennox?! The Emperor knew he was part of Vader's fleet; rather
independent thinker but an effective leader. "I speak for the Borg,"
the hologram said. "We have come to bring you perfection. Your
biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own.
Your culture will..."
The captain's neck began to twitch and convulse and he stopped
speaking. His neck began to visibly contract and finally, the man who
once was Captain Lennox fell out of range of the holotransmitter, the
sound of cracking trachea indicating death. The Emperor released his
grip as the image of Admiral Thrawn returned.
"What are your orders, my lord?"
Hatred burned through the Emperor at the gall of these aliens
to invade his domain. "Your orders, admiral," his voice just above a
whisper, "are to wipe the Borg from the face of the galaxy!"



CHAPTER X.

"We've got it sealed. You're clear to depart."
"Thank you," Han said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his
voice. They'd spent the better part of an hour waiting to depart
while a mechanic tried to disconnect the Falcon from the freighter,
some kind of ruptured sealant hose. Han resisted the urge to punch it
and eased easily out of the main fleet to rendezvous with the "orphan
fleet" as it had been nicknamed. Leia took a seat in one of the nav
computer chairs while they closed in. Han had to admit that he was
rather impressed. The Alliance had committed a full eight squadrons
of fighters, a dozen Corvettes, nineteen transports, eight freighters,
and even two Star Cruisers to this mission. He saw X-wings, A-wings,
B-wings, even a squadron of the older Y-wings, all prepared for the
journey where there be dragons, Borg-shaped dragons, anyway.
"Riekken's not using any half-measures, huh?" Han remarked to Leia.
A Trilon Aggressor slipped over to the Falcon's port. "Here I
thought you were having second thoughts," Lando chided him over the
comm.
Han scowled at the comm. "There was a little mechanical
trouble, not a big deal."
Lando's laugh could be heard over the comm. "Han, did you
crash into a mirror warehouse? Your luck is downright abysmal."
Han ignored him and made some course corrections. He turned
as he felt Leia tap his shoulder. She was holding up a small pair of
dice on a string. "I found these in a maintenance locker," she said
as she handed them to Han. "I guess one of the engineers took them
down when he was repairing something on Yavin and forgot to put them
back."
Han looked at them for a moment and then gave Leia a lopsided
grin. He turned and fastened them to their old place above the
$#@!pit viewport, then keyed the comm. "I have a feeling my luck is
about to get a whole lot better," he said looking towards Leia, who
smiled at him.
"I hope so," Lando replied, "cause you still owe me three
hundred credits." There was silence for a few moments. "Be careful,
these Borg sound pretty nasty."
"Hey," Han said, trying to raise the mood, "it's me." And on
General Riekken's signal, the fleet slipped off into hyperspace.

Picard finished looking over the communication from the
Imperials as the turbolift pulled to a halt. The words took his
breath away. He realized he was still standing there and stepped out.
"What's the status of our defenses, Number One?" he asked, trying to
keep his mind focused in a productive direction.
Riker broke off his conversation with Lt. Travis. "We've
programmed a random series of modulations into the shields which
should be somewhat resistant to the Borg. All torpedo bays have been
prepped for a full confrontation, we've run a level three diagnostic
on all weapons systems. Mr. LaForge has made some modifications which
will increase warp core output by eleven percent, but we'll have to
double our maintenance checks and need to power down in a few days to
do some stress repairs, but every watt will help." Picard nodded.
"Lt. Travis and I were also discussing the possibility of using the
shuttlecrafts to fly close to the cube and transport explosives onto
key parts of the Borg cube."
"There are no key parts," Picard said, "no weak spots to
exploit." He sighed slightly. "People call the Borg a hive, but they
are more like a hydra, cut off one head, and there's another waiting
for you." He stood in silence for a moment. "Perhaps resistance
really is futile," he said under his breath.
Riker stood quietly for some time. Finally he spoke.
"Captain, I'd like to discuss something in your ready room."
As the door closed Picard spoke to Riker. "So, tell me what
is so important?"
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"If this is about the Empire, Will, this is a bad ti-"
"It's not about the Empire, sir, it's about you." Riker
hesitated. "Captain, you've just so much admitted that we can't
defeat the Borg. Right now, on that bridge."
Picard slowly eased into his chair. "Your point?" he asked
coolly.
Riker stood in stunned silence. "All I know is that the
Captain Picard I trained under never shared his doubts with the crew,"
Riker said, leaning forward on the table. "The Captain Picard I know
would never consider that his crew would fail."
"I'm not saying this crew will fail," Picard said much louder
than necessary. He quickly shifted his view away from Riker. "But
what is the point, Will? Even if we do defeat them, what then? They
will come again, and again, and again, and eventually they will wear
us down and we will lose." He sighed. "I'm sorry. The report from
the Empire indicates the Borg have eighty-seven cubes here. I think
of that, and then I reflect on my conversation with Seven, about how
with hyperdrive the Borg are now living on our doorstep... it's opened
my eyes to just how dangerous the situation is. We've been living on
borrowed time, Will, and we went about our business as if we would
always outsmart the Borg, always know just what to do. We've been
lucky, twice, and yet we act as if our victory is assured."
"We have prepared ourselves, Jean-luc, as best as we possibly
can," Riker said.
"Did we?"
"And be true to what we are?" Will asked. "Absolutely, sir.
If we'd let panic influence our judgment, we'd have stopped being the
Federation and started being the Dominion."
Picard nodded. "That's why you have a problem with our
mission... with the Empire."
Riker paused. "It's not just that," he said. "These
transmissions we've received, word of the rebellion, I'm not sure
we're on the right side here, sir."
Picard folded his hands and leaned towards him. "I've heard
some of those transmissions. I'll admit that some are disturbing.
There's this one here," Picard pulled out a PADD, "yes, a report of
warships bombarding a defenseless settlement to try and placate the
entire region. The order came all the way from the top."
"As I said, sir, there's reason for concern."
"Oh, wait," Picard said, "I'm mistaken. This is a broadcast
made by the Maquis three years ago about the Federation." He flicked
his eyes up at Will. "Did we, in fact, bombard defenseless Maquis
settlements?"
"Sir, I just-"
"I understand, Will," Picard said, "and I do take this very
seriously. But I think we have to look at the situation objectively.
So far all our involvements with the Empire have shown that they are
reasonable beings. They've made no gestures of hostility towards us,
and we both know that with their speed and firepower they could
overwhelm the Federation almost as quickly as the Borg can."
"Why bother, when they can acquire the Federation without
firing a shot?" Riker held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I
know I wasn't the biggest fan of the Empire before, but these
transmissions concern me. First it was the Republic, now it's the
Empire. That doesn't strike me as being an improvement."
"Come on, Will," Picard said. "You know that between the
British Empire and the People's Republic of China, it was the empire
that was the more free and tolerant civilization. They're just words,
Will."
"And the rebellion?" Riker asked.
"The rebellion," Picard said sharply, "is by definition not
our problem. The prime directive is crystal clear on that. We cannot
involve ourselves in the internal affairs of the Empire, and that
includes their rebel forces. Now I promise you that when this is
settled we'll look hard at the situation, but right now we have the
deadliest Borg fleet ever assembled within spitting distance of us,
and I'd rather focus our energies on our enemy rather than our ally,
thank you. That will be all."
Riker's frustration was obvious, but he nodded and showed
himself out. Picard turned back to his report, then shook his head
again. Eighty-seven... if every power in the alpha quadrant united,
could they stop even a tenth of that number? Love them or hate them,
Will, he thought, we need the Empire in the frightening place the
galaxy had become.

Delric Taar had spent most of his time since his rescue being
debriefed, but thankfully he'd finally had a chance to clean up and
get some real sleep. It had done wonders for his constitution, and
he'd needed it. The grand admiral wanted Taar to fully update the
squadron commanders on the fighter tactics employed against the Borg,
and where they did and didn't work, and that had required a lot of
thought and energy, but his brush with death, and his thought of all
the dead or assimilated pilots, gave him more than adrenaline ever
could hope to accomplish.
Taar entered Thrawn's office; it was dark, and for a moment he
was worried he was disturbing something. Thrawn turned away from the
glow of a hologram and looked at him. "Yes, lieutenant?"
With proper military steps, Taar marched into the room and
held out the datapad. "The captain ordered me to present the fighter
reports to you personally, sir," he said. Thrawn reached out and took
the datapad; Taar stood at parade rest while he looked through it.
Thrawn's alien features looked even odder in the low light provided by
the hologram, but Taar had heard enough from the other officers to
know not to let that affect his thinking. Thrawn was top of the line,
or he wouldn't be here.
"Are we ready to launch an attack?" Thrawn asked, not looking
up from the datapad.
Taar hesitated. "The commanders have been briefed, but they
haven't had enough time to run battle simulations with their men, and
many of the tactics are still only theoretical."
Thrawn continued reading the datapad, apparently not
listening. "It's the area of space where we'll be launching our
attack in two days," he remarked. How had he known Taar was looking
it over out of the corner of his eye when he wasn't even looking?
"I've been positioning our fleet for an attack on the Borg there."
Thrawn smiled. "How does it look?"
Taar was silent for several moments. "Are you asking me my
opinion, sir?"
"Do you not understand what a question is, lieutenant?" Thrawn
replied.
Delric, you idiot! he thought. You say "it looks very good,
sir," and nod when told to. But he had the horrible habit of thinking
and not keeping his mouth shut when confronted with a bad idea. Well,
you're in this deep, stupid, might as well speak your mind. The worst
Thrawn could do was put you on the front line in the next battle.
"Well sir," he began, "it seems from this model that the attack is
rather two-dimensional in nature, when it would be more effective if
we made a sizeable attack along vectors here and here," he pointed at
various parts of the hologram. "Also, the Dreadnaughts are in a
position to take heavier damage than if they were intermixed with the
star destroyers here. Of course, that's just my opinion sir."
Thrawn chuckled quietly. "Yes, and your opinion is quite
correct, too... except for the part about the fleet coming from here,"
he paused, "clearly this would be the better approach vector
considering the motion of the fleet."
Taar hesitated; well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
"Actually, sir, wouldn't we run a greater risk of hitting our own
ships with friendly fire?"
Thrawn clapped his hands slightly. "Well done. You've
demonstrated a rather keen grasp of ...."
The comm buzzed and a voice sounded. "Admiral, Captain Picard
wishes to speak to you, he claims it's urgent."
Thrawn sighed. "Very well." The image of the space battle
flattened into a two dimensional image of the Enterprise bridge and
Captain Picard.
"Admiral Thrawn," Picard said, "our long range sensors have
detected a group of ships entering the Napuli System. We've
identified some Nebulon Frigates, but the rest are unfamiliar to us."
Taar looked at Thrawn with some surprise. "The rebels..." he
muttered.
Thrawn ignored him. "I'm aware of the ships, captain. You do
realize that we have sensors of our own."
"Of course," Picard replied, "but I was concerned that they
may need some assistance. That is the heart of Borg space in this
galaxy..."
Thrawn shook his head. "It's too soon. Everyone has been
warned to stay away; if the Borg catch them, then that's the price the
pay for underestimating them."
"I understand, admiral," Picard said, but he obviously wasn't
very happy about it. "Enterprise out."
Thrawn sighed again as the image disappeared. "One thing
you'll learn dealing with the Federation," he commented to Taar, "is
that they want to solve every problem in the universe, and they want
to do it right now. They're a society of idealistic children." Taar
said nothing; he'd had pretty much no experience with the Federation
and frankly could care less. The Borg were the only thing on his mind
lately. "I need someone with experience to have the pilots trained
and ready to fight the Borg in two days. Are you up to the task?"
Taar brought himself to full attention. "Absolutely. They'll
be ready, sir."
Thrawn replaced the hologram with an image of some type of
statue. "Very good, major. I suggest you get started immediately."
Taar saluted and walked out. A promotion and a chance for
vengeance on the Borg. This was his lucky day.

This is not my lucky day, thought Han.
The fleet had dropped out of hyperspace right on course, a
short distance from the wormhole. Unfortunately, so was a Borg cube.
"All fighters," came the orders from the Liberty, Riekken's flagship,
"provide cover for the transports." The rest was cut off by Leia and
Threepio as Han put the Falcon into a series of crazy maneuvers while
Borg weapons tried to catch them.
"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated. Resistance is
futile."
"Confident bunch, aren't they," Han grunted putting the ship
through several evasive maneuvers.
"We're doomed!" Threepio moaned from the other navigator
chair.
"Don't start!" Han warned. He yanked the Falcon into another
tight turn as a nearby X-Wing was caught in a tractor beam, slowly
pulled towards the cube.
"We've just got to keep them distracted for another minute,"
Leia said.
"Yeah, well, a lot can happen to us in a minute," Han said
with a nervous edge in his voice as he turned some knobs above him.
The Falcon's lasers fired, but they stopped short of the cube. "Or
very very little," he said, jerking away as a Borg weapon struck a
nearby B-Wing. The Liberty was also running cover now, firing its
heavy guns at the cube, but it couldn't stay for long. It could beat
one cube without breaking a sweat, but every minute wasted trying to
engage it was another that allowed some of his friends to get closer.
Chewie suddenly growled something at Han. "What? Where?" Han asked
frantically. Chewie pointed and the Falcon came around, and Leia saw
the Trillon Agressor caught in the Borg tractor beam.

Luke, Lando's in trouble. Luke didn't hear it, but he heard
her words in his mind.
I'm on my way. "Hang on, Artoo," he sound out loud as pushed
the X-Wing to full throttle. He closed in, but Han was already there,
and two quick concussion missiles vaporized the tractor emitter. Luke
adjusted his course slightly and fired a few shots on the surface for
all the good it did. But the closer he got, the nagging sensation he
had was growing worse and worse, and he realized that what he'd
thought was worry was actually the sensation of the Borg. They felt
completely wrong. Each was unique, and yet each thought and acted as
one. It was like the optical illusion that could be a young woman or
an old hag depending on how you looked at it, and it was making his
head hurt.
The cube shook under a particularly devastating attack from
the star cruiser, and for a moment the many thoughts pulled together.
With so many thinking the same thing, it would have been impossible
for Luke not to pick up on it. "This is Commander Skywalker," Luke
said. "All available fighters, form up on me, Attack Pattern Delta."
The ships pulled away and formed a line behind Luke like a string of
pearls. Luke led the way around in a wide arc. "Arm your proton
torpedoes," he ordered. Got that, Leia?

Yeah, I got it. "Han, there's a weak spot in their defenses,"
Leia said. "Follow Luke in and fire your missiles."
Han's hands were flying over the controls. "How can you
possibly know that?" he asked. He saw Leia shift uncomfortably in her
seat. "Forget I said anything," he said, altering course. "I hope
you've got a good feeling about this." Luke's X-wing swooped in
first, firing his torpedoes and pulling up so the one behind him could
do the same. One pair wasn't enough to penetrate, but the endless
barrage opened the path for the ones near the back -including the
Falcon's missiles- to get through. They slammed into the opening in
the cube, and instantly explosions ripped through various parts of the
ship. Han looked stunned for a second as pulled up, then grinned.
"See, I told you," he said to Chewie, "no problems." Chewie barked a
reply. "So, who's the lucky one now, hey Lando?"
"Me," Lando replied, "lucky that you showed up. Thanks."
Han brought the Falcon around and headed towards the wormhole
with the rest of the fleet. "Let's hope we don't have to try this
again real soon, okay?" And with that, the orphan fleet left the
galaxy behind.


[End Act 1]

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

mdmost02-19-2008, 11:16 PM
Seriously?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr.Wizard02-19-2008, 11:16 PM
WORLDS WITHOUT END REDUX
Act II

CHAPTER XI

"Well, admiral," Picard said under his breath as his eyes
slowly scanned the fleet. "I see you take the Borg seriously." He
stood on the observation deck of the Enterprise, and as he lost count
he realized why Thrawn had put the Enterprise at the rear of the fleet
for the coming operations. It looked like he'd just have to take the
reports word for it: Two hundred warships, and this was only one of
five fleets Thrawn had assembled to engage the Borg. No, not engage,
annihilate. This fleet was here to remove all trace of the Borg from
this galaxy, and as Picard looked over the hordes of Imperators,
Interdictors, Victorys, and Dreadnaughts, he was much more confident
in their ability to pull that off. The worrying of the past few days
-of the Borg descending on Earth and consuming it- faded. With the
Empire standing with them, Picard had little doubt that the Federation
could hold back the Borg indefinitely. The nightmare would remain
just that, the ethereal constructs of the paranoid.
But we still have a part to play in this, Picard thought. We
can't be children, expecting the Empire to protect us from everything.
That would open the door to a whole new host of problems. Picard
turned away from the view and entered the turbolift, emerging onto the
bridge. He paused, but this time by design. He saw his crew, and
knew that they were prepared to fight with all their convictions, and
he was proud of them. They didn't have mile-long ships with massive
guns, but they were prepared to stand their ground with whatever they
did have, even though most had faced the Borg at least twice.
Commander Riker left the captain's chair and took his own seat as
Picard came down. Seven was still on the bridge in Troi's place.
Hopefully she'd speak up if she saw a weakness in the Borg's defenses.
Picard paused as the thought fully percolated in his mind, and he felt
some embarrassment at it. Of course she would, he thought. She's
proven that she's on the Federation's side in this, and she's
demonstrated how valuable an asset she is. Her initial reports on
Imperial technology had been almost as insightful as Data's, but much
easier to understand. Despite the implants, despite her mannerisms,
she was human, and he was getting a little frustrated with himself
that he was still distrustful of her.
"The admiral seems to have quite a party planned," Riker
remarked.
"Just wait until the guest of honor arrives," Picard replied.
He switched on the ship's intercom from his chair. "All hands, this
is the captain. As you know, we are about to once again come face to
face with the Borg. Three times the Enterprise has faced them, and
every time we have resisted them. I am certain, that with this ship
and your dedication, that this time will be no different. While we
have not been assigned a primary position in this battle, we are still
nevertheless going to be called upon to ensure that they are stopped,
and that they are driven back. I know that your actions today will do
just that, and give credit to the name 'Enterprise.'" He keyed it
off. "That confident enough for you, Number One?" he asked under his
breath.
"That certainly sounded like Jean-luc Picard to me, sir,"
Riker said with a smile.
"Captain," Lt. Travis said, "Admiral Thrawn has given the
order to advance."
"Helm, you have the coordinates," Picard said. "Engage." And
the armada vanished into hyperspace.

"Ships approaching Grid 812 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting
ships to intercept...."
"Ships approaching Grid 1006 of Unimatrix 02 prime. Diverting
ships to..."
"Ships approaching Grid 127 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting
shi..."
"Ships approaching Grid 573 of Unimatrix 02 pri..."
"Ships approaching Grid 403 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting
ships to intercept. Engage and assimilate."

The Enterprise dropped out of hyperspace along with the rest
of the fleet. "Red alert," Riker ordered, and the lights shifted
accordingly.
"The Borg?" Picard asked Data.
"I am detecting thirty-two cubes in this area, captain," Data
reported.
"On screen," Picard said. The picture shifted, and there they
were, as many as he saw in his nightmares. But this time, they were
the ones who were on the defensive, as the Imperial fleet moved in to
intercept. The Borg, as always, ignored the danger, and rushed to
engage. "Hold position here," Picard ordered.
"Load all torpedo bays," Riker said. "Stand by weapons."
"Shuttle crews, stand by for launch on the captain's order,"
Seven instructed. Riker had shown Picard the results of several
simulations on the idea of using shuttles to beam explosives onto
cubes. They had shown some success with it, so Picard had them make
the preparations, although if the Borg were still around enough to
need it against this armada it was doubtful it'd make a difference.
"Fleets 2 through 5 have reported, sir," Lt. Travis
interjected, "They've engaged the Borg."
Picard nodded, and watched as the final engagement began.

Major Taar stood at his post at fighter tactical on board the
Incaciad. "All fighters, stand by for launch," he ordered, carefully
examining the positions of the fleet and the Borg cubes on his
display. He tapped his lips a couple times, then hit the comm.
"Squadron commanders, you are to engage cubes eighteen through twenty.
Primary target remains tractor beams, secondary target, beam weapon
emplacements. Sensors, torpedo emplacements, are targets of
opportunity." It was impossible not to smile as he looked at how
overwhelmed the Borg were. "Launch all fighters."

Anticipation was high on the bridge of the Incaciad as the
Borg closed in to optimal range. Thrawn stood silent, still, watching
and noting everything they did. In the background, a junior officer
was counting down the seconds until optimal range would be met. At
six seconds, he spoke. "Captain, instruct the Derilux and Phalanx to
activate on my command," he ordered.
No one knew the details, but everyone knew that Thrawn had
been up to something secretive on the two Interdictors. Hopefully it
was something special, because the Borg entered optimal weapon range.
"Now captain," Thrawn said with the casualness of a man who
could bombard paradise with neither a smile nor a tear, but the calm
voice of necessity.

Despite the overwhelming advantage, there was a gnawing fear
in Picard's guts as he saw the Borg fleet grow larger and larger on
the viewscreen. When the cry came, he literally jumped.
It had come from Seven. She'd fallen out of her chair and was
screaming in pain. "Turn it off!" she wailed.
Picard was about to speak when Travis spoke up. "Sir, all
sensors are down! We've got nothing across the board!"
"Mr. Data?" Picard said as he turned to his second officer.
"Electromagnetic sensors appear to still be functioning," Data
said. "I'm re-routing to tactical."
"Medical emergency," Riker started to say over the comm, but
the sudden feedback was almost deafening.
"What the devil is going on?" Picard demanded, but then he
looked at Seven, and it all clicked into place.
"Security, bring Seven of Nine to Sickbay," Riker ordered.
"Belay that," Picard said, still watching her where she lay.
"Take her to the brig."
"Captain!" Seven wailed. "Please!"
"Have Dr. Crusher meet her there, but keep an eye on her,"
Picard said.
"Sir-" Riker began.
"Commander, monitor the status of the battle," Picard said as
two security officers picked Seven up and began carrying her towards
the turbolifts. "I have a feeling the Borg have pulled a rather
crafty turn on us."
"Captain, if-"
"You have the bridge, Number One," Picard said, heading for
the other turbolift. "Mr. Data, see if you can find a way around this
communicator problem. I'll be in the brig, looking for answers."

The fleet slowly closed in on the Borg cubes like a pack of
patient sharks. The cubes moved sluggishly through space, weapons
fire lancing out at the Imperial ships. The star destroyers closed in
and began broadsides, battering the cubes with their turbolasers.
Meanwhile, the fighters flew past the perimeter of the battle and
began engaging the cubes near the center of the Borg fleet. The swarm
of tiny starships began strafing the surface of the cube, while the
ship fired wildly at the small craft. The shots were hopelessly off
target, and one even struck a nearby cube, causing more damage than
the fighters. Taar watched from his station, monitoring the battle.
He did nothing to hide his amusement of this turn of events. "We are
the Empire," he said in barely audible tones. "To resist us is
futile."

Dr. Crusher stopped short as she entered the brig and heard
the screams. "Captain, what's going on?" she demanded as she stormed
over to where two security guards tried to restrain Seven, but with
her Borg enhanced strength it was more like hanging on for dear life.
"Why isn't she in Sickbay?"
"Something's going on with the Borg and I want to know what it
is," Picard said over the din. He turned back to Seven. "Now what
are they doing?" he demanded.
"Please, captain!" she pleaded, clawing at the side of her
face. "Make it stop!"
"Tell me what's going on," he said firmly.
"I don't know!" she wailed. "Please, I don't know..." her
voice descended into sobbing. She thrashed, shaking one of the guards
loose, and Picard put his hand to his phaser. Dr. Crusher pulled out
a hypospray and tried approaching, but he grabbed her arm.
"Captain, she's in pain!" she protested.
"Why?" he demanded. "What are the Borg doing out there?"
Crusher pulled her arm free. "Let me stop her from tearing
her face off and maybe we can find out." She put the hypospray to
Seven's neck, and the ex-Borg collapsed, unconscious. She turned and
glared at Picard. "What's the matter with you?" she demanded, all
thought of rank cast aside.
"Our ship's been sabotaged," Picard said. "And the moment it
began she started acting like this. What I want to know is if the
Borg are using her to try and stop us."
"All right," Crusher said. This was the middle of a fight
with the Borg, who were always ones to pull rabbits out of hats. "I
can try to find that out, but you have to give this some time,
captain."
"Time? For all we know the Imperials are suffering the same
effects! We don't have the luxury of time!"
"Well, captain, would you like the real answer, or should I
make one up, because I can't give you the real one unless you give me
that time!" She pulled out her medical tricorder and began scanning.
"The problem is centered in her frontal lobe, the left hemisphere of
her brain... It's one of her Borg implants," she admitted. "Her
subspace transponder."
"So they are using her," Picard said darkly.
"That's not-" Before she could continue there was a small
beeping sound and one of the displays lit up, revealing Data.
"Captain, due to the interference, I am using the internal..."
"What do you want," Picard interrupted. There was no time for
Data to state the obvious.
"I believe I have found the cause of the problems on board the
ship, captain," Data replied.
"As do I," Picard muttered, looking at Seven's unconscious
form.
"I have analyzed the sensor logs. There was a massive power
surge from two of the Imperial starships just before the problems
began. The Interdictors, sir."
"Your point, Mr. Data."
"Sir, Interdictors produce massive gravitational shadows, that
is what they are designed for. But there are no gravitational
anomalies at this time."
Picard stopped for a moment. "How do you know? The sensors
are off-line."
"I have modified the deflector dish to scan for any evidence
of gravitational anomalies," Data replied. "There are none, sir."
"Fascinating, now what is the point, Mr. Data?"
"Sir," Data continued, eternally patient, "I have noticed the
Borg cubes are not fighting in an efficient manner. Their propulsion
is slow, their weapons often off target, their shields ineffective."
He paused. "I believe the Interdictors have been modified, sir. They
are no longer creating gravitational interference, they are creating
subspace interference; interference on a scale like nothing we have
ever seen."
"So you're saying the Empire's the one doing this to us?"
Picard said incredulously.
"Not intentionally, sir. This is a weapon against the Borg;
we are simply collateral damage, as it were."
Picard was about to reply, but he thought it through. The
gravity projectors generated as much power as a small fleet... and
Thrawn had specifically asked for subspace technology. Yes, it would
be an excellent weapon to use against the Borg, who communicate using
subspace. Oh, it wouldn't be perfect, but it would be a severe
hindrance. Naturally, the side effect would be to overload every
subspace receiver in the area, including-
A sickening sensation crept into his stomach. Including the
one in the skull of Seven of Nine.
Picard held his hand up over his eyes, rubbing his temples.
"Thank you, Mr. Data. Well done." He finally looked back up at
Seven's unconscious form. After everything she'd done, in the end, he
wouldn't let himself trust her. He'd let his own hatred for the Borg
blind him, made him turn on a loyal member of his crew.
"Security," he said, "take her to Sickbay. Doctor, please do
whatever you have to to ease her suffering. I'll be on the bridge."

Thrawn watched as the fleet closed in around the final two
cubes; after the massive damage already inflicted, and his subspace
interdictors, their resistance was negligible. "What are our losses?"
he asked as one of the cubes already began to explode.
"Minimal, sir," Captain Jarrol said, and there was no
mistaking the satisfaction in his tone.
Thrawn nodded and turned to one of his aides. "Order all
fighters back to their ships, and have the fleet prepare to move on to
our next target." Turning back to Jarrol, he asked, "What is the
status of the other fleets?"
"Fleets 2 and 5 have defeated the Borg and are continuing to
the next system," Jarrol reported. "Fleet 4 is still fighting, and
Fleet 3 had to stop to destroy a Borg held planet. They will be
moving on in twenty-seven minutes."
Thrawn nodded and watched the last cube explode. "Alert all
commands," he said, "go to hyperspace."

"Ships approaching Grid 1 of Unimatrix 01 prime. Diverting
all ships to that location. Engage and assimilate."

To a machine, all things can be reduced to numbers.
Forty-three cubes were waiting in the Napuli System when three of the
Imperial fleets arrived, consisting of six hundred thirty-seven
warships and over three thousand fighters. With numbers like that,
the battle lasted less than twenty minutes.
But the survivors weren't machines; they were humans -well,
humanoids- and the victory put a smile on many faces, including that
of Major Taar. It seemed the only one who wasn't smiling was Admiral
Thrawn, who observed the battle almost in the same manner as a
machine, except that he was capable of anticipating the human element
within. "Report," he said.
Jarrol spoke, stifling a yawn. It had been a long engagement.
"All Borg ships destroyed, two Borg planets have been secured, and
bombardment is proceeding; no signs of resistance."
"And the Milky Way?"
"Our scout ships are reporting no sign of the Borg on their
side of the wormhole," Jarrol said.
"Good, we seem to have cleaned up Piett's mess rather nicely,"
Thrawn said, walking off the bridge. He entered the holotheater; the
Emperor soon appeared. He filled him in on the results of the battle.
"Very good, admiral," the Emperor said. "The Borg threat has
been eliminated then?"
"No, your highness," Thrawn said. "We have merely expunged
them from our space. Based on this campaign, I don't believe the Borg
will ever stop. They don't care if they die, they will keep coming
after us and our worlds until one of us is destroyed.... unless..."
"Unless what, admiral?" the Emperor said wearily.
"Unless we destroy the wormhole, your highness," Thrawn said.
"That would ensure the Borg will never return."
"No," the Emperor said sternly. "I will not be denied by some
collection of cybernetic lemmings! Do whatever is necessary to ensure
they do not return, admiral, even if it means exterminating them...
but I will not close the wormhole. There's too much to be gained in
the Milky Way."



CHAPTER XII

Captain Picard waited in his ready room, fooling himself into
thinking he was reading the latest report on the diplomatic front. The
truth was that his mind was too occupied with his own problems to
focus. He'd always known he wasn't perfect, but it was the sort of
"not perfect" that lended itself towards false modesty, rather than
the "not perfect" of "sometimes I'm going to make an inexcusable
mistake, because I'm only human."
"Only human..." He'd boasted of being human before Q, about
how far they'd come. He'd quoted Shakespeare: "in action how like an
angel! in apprehension, how like a god!," he'd said without a trace of
irony. Looking back, his hubris was astonishing. And what had
happened the next time Q arrived? An introduction to a species called
the Borg, and look at what had come of that. Picard had learned the
bitter truth that no matter how much Shakespeare he'd like to throw at
things, they were neither gods nor angels, just mere mortals; that had
been an unpleasant lesson. And then the Borg came again, and that
lesson was far worse. "Evolved," was how he'd always liked to
describe modern humanity; Earth was a paradise. Well, it turned out
to be a fool's paradise, didn't it. Oh, they had patted themselves on
the back for how civilized they were, and then the Dominion came, and
martial law was declared on Earth. The Founders threatened, and the
enlightened humans designed biological weapons to commit genocide.
When push came to shove, when danger threatened, humans did what they
had done in those barbaric, nonsensical days that Picard and the other
Starfleet officers had always arrogantly chuckled about.
But Q brought the Borg... and however much he might seem like
an annoying imp, Picard knew that Q wasn't stupid. It wasn't the
brash action he made it out to be, it was a calculated move to strip
away Picard's delusions that he himself was above that sort of thing.
When the Borg launched their second attack, he'd seen that revenge is
not something you can evolve beyond. When Seven lay on the floor of
his bridge, screaming in agony and begging Picard to help her, he
learned that prejudice and paranoia don't go away because it's given
lip-service. "Commies under the bed," he'd joked in years past about
the backwards twentieth century world, but Starfleet officers looked
with suspicion on one another when the Founders arrived... and Picard
had looked at the weeping girl and knew in his bones she was just a
Borg agent. He wasn't laughing now... no, the only one laughing was
Q, no doubt spouting those words of Shakespeare with all the irony
they were intended to carry. And he had every right to laugh.
The door chimed, and Picard set the PADD down on his desk.
Well, he thought, time to get this over with. "Come," he said.
The door opened and Seven walked in. She took her usual place
in her usual pose. There wasn't the slightest flicker on her face, no
sign in any of her body language that she resented him for what he'd
done. "You wish to see me, captain?" Again, nothing in her voice...
it twisted the knife far worse than anything else she could possibly
say. He was the captain, she was a member of his crew, and that was a
two-way street. She was expected to follow his orders without
question, even into death itself, to trust his judgment always. In
the same way, he needed to demonstrate that that simply wasn't because
of a couple pips on his collar. But he'd failed her. Oh, he'd made
mistakes in the past, and his people had died from it, but this was
different. This time was nothing short than his own failings as a
captain and as a human being, and that made it a bitter pill.
Picard folded his hands and leaned his forehead against them.
"Seven of Nine," he said. "I'm glad to see you've recovered so
quickly," he added, looking up. "To say I owe you an apology would be
a gross understatement."
"You had no way of knowing that it was not a Borg deception,"
Seven said. "Your actions were understandable in light of the gravity
of the situation."
"No, they were not," Picard said. "They were paranoid and
irrational, and I want you to know that I am deeply sorry for what I
said and did... and failed to do."
Seven seemed somewhat uncomfortable. "I... accept your
apology, captain."
"I want you to understand, Seven, that this is no reflection
on you. Your service to both the Enterprise and the Federation has
been exemplary. Please, don't think that this was anyone's failing
but my own. You are a model officer."
"I will take that as a complement, captain, though it would be
difficult to consider myself a model officer since I'm not an actual
member of Starfleet."
Picard paused in mid-reply. "Yes, of course," he said, then
he smiled a little. "But you are very good at giving the impression
that you are."
"I assure you, captain, that it was never my intent-"
"I mean that as a compliment," Picard said. "Despite your
lack of formal training, you do handle the job very well. I've seen
how effectively you give and receive orders, follow through on
protocols."
"Captain Janeway employed rather harsh discipline when I did
not," Seven said. "I assumed that was the norm for Starfleet."
"Well whatever the reason, you would make an excellent
officer... one I would be proud to have as a member of my crew, if
that would interest you."
For perhaps the first time he'd ever seen, Seven seemed at a
loss. She seemed focused on a spot on the floor, but Picard let her
take her time. "The opportunity to receive a commission is
desirable," Seven said eventually. "But I am not accustomed to
working with others."
"You work well with Commander Data," Picard said. "Is it
because he's a machine?"
"No, it's because he's intelligent," Seven said.
Picard had been caught off guard, and a laugh managed to slip
out. "I'm sorry," he said, covering his mouth. "Yes, I suppose
there's that. What you're saying in your round about way is that
starting at the bottom and working your way up isn't suited to you."
"I realize that that would be an affront to other officers who
have worked in the system," Seven said. "But I am not... suited, to
use your term, to serving in the capacity that I have observed from
such positions. If that is the only way, then I'm afraid I must
decline."
"Normally it is," Picard said. "However, given the
circumstances, and your repeatedly exceptional performance, I think we
can work something out. Perhaps chief science officer would be to
your liking?"
"That is a very attractive offer, captain," Seven said, and
her nervousness showed in her voice. "I'd imagine the Enterprise
would remain on the forefront of exploration once our mission is
complete."
"There'd be many things for someone with an insatiable
curiosity to see," Picard said with a smile. "But it's not simply a
matter of handing you a rank badge and shaking your hand. There may
be tests and tasks-"
"I am willing to do whatever is necessary, captain," Seven
said resolutely.
"Good," Picard said, getting up. "And remember: if it's not
to your liking, you can resign whenever you like, or if something else
comes along, take a transfer."
"Why would I do that?"
"Well, new opportunities," Picard said. "Perhaps a post at
the Academy, or a position at the Daystrom Institute... or just
settling down, getting married-"
"Is enduring your humor one of the tests, captain?" Seven
asked.
"Not the romantic type, Seven?" Picard said with a smirk.
"No, captain. I have observed this human social convention
and find it only impairs efficiency."
"Well," Picard said, "that's certainly your prerogative,
Seven, but I'd like to give you two pieces of advice. One is that
you'll find that most of the best things in life impair efficiency,
and the other," and he couldn't help but grin, "is that when it comes
to that particular 'human social convention,' it usually doesn't arise
from conscious choices."
"My subconscious is also not the romantic type," Seven said.
"Noted," Picard said, leading the way out onto the bridge.
"Any word from the Empire, Number One?"
"The Incaciad just contacted us, we can beam over to the
Conquest as soon as we'd like."
"Good, Data, Will, Seven, you're with me; Lieutenant Travis,
you have the bridge."

Hokey religions and ancient weapons may have been something
for Luke and Leia, but for Han, the real world had enough of its own
challenges. He'd admit that he was just as likely to rely on his
instincts as those two, but at least he knew that his were based on
years of experience. When you're breaking into a place, and the
security's just a little too easy, you get a bad feeling. When you're
meeting a customer and you don't see enough space for all the cargo,
you get a bad feeling. But one of the really nasty ones is when all
conversation stops and people turn and look at you. Even the greenest
scoundrel knew not only was it a bad sign, but that you'd likely be
black and smoking before much longer.
Han played the situation as cool as he could. "I'm just
looking for a little information, that's all," he said. He didn't
glance in Lando's direction, it'd tip them off that he wasn't alone.
He was just going to have to trust him to jump in if he had to... and
trust wasn't easy to have when things started turning ugly. But there
were some things you had to do in situations like this, and while it
may have been a long time since they had to work together, habits that
kept you alive stuck with you.
"Why would anyone want to learn about the Federation?" the
Kazon demanded.
"I have an associate looking at doing some business with
them," Han replied, in just the right tone to hopefully maintain
interest without increasing the tension.
The Kazon snorted and looked at his comrades, who seemed to
reflect his bemused contempt. "Then your 'associate' must enjoy being
swindled. The Federation is cowardly and devious."
"It sounds like you've had dealings with them," Han said
knowingly. "Good... my associate would certainly like to know more
about them before he starts negotiations."
"All knowledge comes at a price, human," the Kazon said
darkly.
Han nodded with a knowing smirk. "How does two hundred liters
sound?"
The bad feeling was not only back, but it was jumping up and
down and waving flags. Kriff, he thought as he watched their stunned
reaction, too high, way too high. Let's hope I didn't botch this.
"You are willing to give up that much water just to learn
about the Federation?" the Kazon said skeptically. "Your 'associate'
is obviously not going to stay in business very long if you squander
his goods in this manner."
"Yeah, well, that's his problem," Han said.
The Kazon leaned menacingly across the table at him. "And it
will be your problem if you try to flee without payment, human." Han
did move a muscle. "I have only encountered one of their vessels,"
the Kazon continued. "But it was enough to show me how little they
can be trusted. Their leader -Janeway-" he spat the name, "lives by
deceit, and she spread chaos all throughout the Kazon Ogla. We
haven't seen or heard from them in years and good riddance." Several
others muttered their agreement. "I do hope they've met a terrible
end."
"Where are the rest of them?" Han asked.
"You still want to have dealings with them, human?" the Kazon
asked incredulously. "What could they have that would interest your
'associate' so greatly?"
"That would cost you three hundred liters," Han said with a
smirk.
The Kazon made a slight growl. "They were brought here by the
Caretaker from somewhere else, I don't know where."
"Where is this Caretaker?"
"Dead," the Kazon replied as he took a drink. "Killed by
Janeway. Then she blew up the array he created to protect the Ocampa;
I guess she didn't care for them either." He slammed his empty mug
down. "Now, about that water, human..."
After the trade was finished Han and Lando took off for the
newly built Rebel base. It wasn't great, but given what they had to
work with, and the amount of time involved, Han had been impressed.
Unfortunately, the mission didn't seem to be off to a great start.
"What do you think of that?" he asked Lando.
"He likes wa-ter, hu-man," Lando said in a grunting imitation
of the Kazon, and Han cracked up. "It sounded to me like he was
telling the truth, or at least his version of it. These Kazon have
got no love for the Federation."
"So, no new info, but at least we know one more person who
doesn't like them," Han said. "And that name again, Janeway... how
many times has it come up now?"
Lando leaned back in the co-pilot seat and whistled. "This
makes the... fourth time, if you want to count the Hirogen."
Han winced at the mention of the name. "I though we'd agreed
not to discuss them ever again."
"Still a little sore?" Lando chided him
"I don't want to talk about it," Han said, which only brought
more laughs from Lando.
"Well, don't talk to me, talk to Chewie. Last I saw he's
still got that souvenir of his."
"I've tried, he thinks it's funny, can you believe that?" He
looked over and saw Lando's smirk. "Yeah, thanks," he added, pulling
back on the hyperdrive controls, "you're a true friend."

Seven stood at attention for appearance sake as the
Lambda-class shuttle settled into the star destroyer's hangar. In
addition to the Enterprise's senior officers that were on hand, a
number of Imperial troops and officers were standing at attention.
Thrawn stood in the center, waiting patiently as the ramp lowered.
Seven kept looking over at him; he was very good at minimizing his
body language, but years of dealing with the eccentricities of
Voyager's crew had taught her how to catch the details. He wasn't
happy about what was going on, despite the thin smile he had for the
arrivals.
There were several, but Seven's eyes immediately fell on the
one she had no doubt everyone was focused on. The man was nearly two
meters tall, clad completely in black, complete with a frightening
mask and helmet. As he walked, she noted a steady rhythm that must
have been an artificial breathing apparatus. Given the devices on his
chest, it was clear that he was, well, just like her: a cyborg.
Thrawn stepped up and the two exchanged a few words. The
details were too quiet even for Seven to hear, but the tone of his
voice made her slightly nervous. Thrawn brought him over and began
introducing him. "Lord Darth Vader," he said.
"Seven of Nine," she answered when it was her turn. She had
no rank to give like the others, so she added, "Civilian advisor." He
said nothing to her directly, and his blank mask seemed to be staring
right through her, as if looking for her deepest fear. He turned away
to speak to Thrawn. As he did, his cloak billowed slightly, revealing
a cylindrical object hanging from his belt. She hadn't seen it
before, but she noted for later to check the database they'd received
to find out what it was. It may have been because he was here for
this mission, or it could be because he was cybernetic. If the
latter, it could be of use to her. So far Seven's only experience
with such equipment -that was worth talking about, anyway- was from
the Borg. She was anxious to learn what the Empire might have to
offer.
Seven turned back as one of the Federation diplomats came up
the line, leading an oddly dressed man. "Ambassador Talva," he said
by way of introduction. "He'll be the official go between with the
Federation."
"What will Lord Vader's capacity be, then?" Picard asked.
"He will handle the Imperials in the place of the Emperor, for
now," the diplomat explained.
"Until we can devise a way to communicate through the
wormhole," Talva added. "And a holo-network is installed for
long-range communication."
"That sounds a rather involved project," Picard said.
"It will be worth it in the long run. I'm sure we'll have
much to discuss that we'd rather not require weeks to get answers to."
Seven turned her attention back to Vader and Thrawn. She was
almost certain their conversation was much more interesting.

"The Borg pose no immediate threat?" Vader asked.
"No, my lord," Thrawn said. "We've secured the other side of
the wormhole and work has begun on rebuilding the station. Our
campaign to exterminate them will begin soon."
"The Emperor will be most displeased if they destroy the
Federation before they can be put to his use."
"I imagine he would be," Thrawn said. "We will provide enough
pressure to keep them busy, but this isn't a simple matter. It will
take years."
"That is not my concern," Vader said darkly. "Only ensuring
the protection of this Federation. Don't fail me admiral... I have
seen too much of it of late to remain patient."
"Of course, my lord," Thrawn said.



CHAPTER XIII

High above the orange-red surface of Mars hung Utopia
Planetia, the Federation's most advanced starship construction
facility, and with the introduction of the hyperdrive, now possibly
the most advanced in the galaxy. After the Enterprise's successful
launch, Admiral Jellico had been placed in command of the facility. A
couple of months ago it would have been an insult to put an officer of
his rank and experience in such a position, but today, he took it as
an honor, because it was in the long-term likely to be one of the most
important posts in the Federation.
"We sow for tomorrow, not for today," the old Vulcan proverb
said, and Jellico applied that to his new job. Things move slowly,
but that was simply because change often demanded it. They had twenty
new ships being constructed to optimize the use of the hyperdrive, and
so far five starships -besides the Enterprise and Voyager, of course-
had been successfully refitted to accommodate it, but each craft was
proving a learning experience of its own. Some of the older warp
cores couldn't provide enough power without risking structural
failures, so they'd need even further upgrades to be worthwhile, or
just have to be retired from service altogether. He was projecting
two to four years to successfully upgrade the entire fleet, but when
that was done the balance of power would undeniably shift in the
Federation's favor.
An alert sounded, and Jellico instinctively got to his feet.
He rushed out of his office towards the central control area; he'd
been worried about an attack. The hyperdrive was strictly
need-to-know, but with each ship launched that number grew
substantially, and sooner or later somebody else was going to find
out, and take steps. "What's happening?" he asked.
"Long-range sensors are picking up something coming towards
the Terran system, sir," the lieutenant said.
"'Something?'"
"It's moving too fast to get a positive identification, sir,
or even any details. Could be a ship, could be a fleet."
Jellico looked at the readouts. It was too fast to be warp
and too big to be the Enterprise, so that meant it was three
possibilities. One was simply someone they hadn't met who just
happened to pick now to stop by. Two was the Borg; if they'd caught
the Enterprise or managed to snag an Imperial ship, they could have
assimilated hyperdrive technology. Third was the Imperials
themselves, with some star destroyers from the looks of things.
Jellico had been the biggest proponent of an alliance, but he'd also
secretly been worried that the Empire would use Voyager as a gauge of
Federation strength and may try to annex it. All three were rather
unpleasant options. "Warn Earth," he said, just in case. "Every ship
we've got, get it out there. Hopefully I'm just overreacting."
"Sir, Spacedock reports they have eight ships launched and are
ready as well. Starfleet Command has ordered not to fire unless
ordered to."
Jellico nodded. Let's hope no one goes off half-$#@!ed here,
he thought.
The ships dropped out of hyperspace; they weren't Borg, at
least. "Magnify," Jellico ordered, and looked closely at them. Yes,
without a doubt, those were the Imperial ships Janeway had met.
Jellico fidgeted with his left hand as he looked it over, wondering
what was going to happen next. Then a slight bit of relief came over
him, and he pointed. "The Enterprise," he said.
"Should we stand down?"
"No, not yet," Jellico said. Picard was a bit soft, but he
wasn't a traitor. Still, it was remotely possibly he or a member of
his crew could have led the Empire here under duress. "Hail the
Enterprise," he ordered.
Seconds later, Captain Picard appeared on the viewer. "Is
there a problem, admiral?"
"Just wanted to make sure everything was all clear, Jean-luc,"
Jellico said. "You and your friends caught us by surprise." He
waited a moment. "They are your friends, right?"
"Yours and mine, admiral," Picard said.
"That's good to hear, at least," Jellico said. "Why exactly
did they bring four warships with them?"
"It's a long way to the wormhole, admiral," Picard said.
"They're just a small escort to ensure the safety of the diplomatic
corps while they're on Earth; it was all part of the negotiations."
"Sir," the lieutenant interrupted, "Starfleet command is
ordering all ships to stand down."
Jellico nodded slowly, eyes still on the viewscreen. "Stand
down, lieutenant," he said. "Good work, Jean-luc, Utopia out." He
cut the transmission. "Lieutenant, I'll be in my office," he said.
He'd wanted this, but... the sight of warships over Earth made
him very uncomfortable. It was a reasonable position, all in all,
but, old instincts told him to be cautious. He sat at his desk,
activated the viewer, and watched the fleet slip into orbit, shaking
his head ever so slightly.

The Lambda-class shuttle and her fighter escort exited the
Conquest's docking bay, but Picard and the diplomatic corps had
already beamed down to the platform. Admiral Parks had been waiting,
and he gave Picard a grin from ear to ear. "You had us worried, and I
don't just mean this dramatic entrance," he said, pumping Picard's
hand. "We'd worried something happened to you out there."
"You should know by now never to give up on the Enterprise,"
Picard said, smiling in return. It faded as he saw the man over his
shoulder.
"Welcome back, captain," the Federation president said.
"Thank you, sir," Picard said, but it didn't have much
enthusiasm in it. How he'd managed to stay in office after the
martial law incident was simply stunning.
"It's you who should be thanked. This looks to be the start
of a wonderful new friendship."
"Just doing my duty, sir," Picard said neutrally, and the
president went off to talk with someone else. "Admiral, while I have
your ear, there's something I'd like to discuss. You recall the
advisor Janeway provided?"
"Was there a problem?"
"On the contrary, she exceeded all expectations," Picard said.
"She's still a civilian, but I think she'd make an outstanding
officer."
"Then have her join the Academy and we'll see what happens,"
Parks said.
"I'd rather keep her with my crew," Picard said. "She's doing
some valuable work, more valuable than writing papers on ethics and
the historical significance of the Battle of Waterloo."
"There's protocols in place, Jean-luc."
"I'm asking this as a personal favor," Picard said.
Parks sighed a little. Picard didn't need to remind him that
he had some favors to call in. "Have her file sent to me, I'll look
it over, see what we can arrange."
"Thank you," Picard said, and they both turned as the shuttle
settled onto the ramp.
The ramp lowered, and the head of the diplomatic corps stepped
forward to make introductions. First was Lord Vader, still as
chilling as he was back on the Conquest. The president was first, of
course, then some of the representatives of member worlds in the
Federation. Vader wasn't exactly disrespectful, but with that
expressionless mask and his silence -save the off-putting breathing-
it seemed that everyone was barely worthy of his notice. Of course,
he wasn't the ambassador, so diplomacy wasn't expected of him, but it
did seem to add an air of tension to the event.
Then he reached K'Jorl, the ambassador from the Klingon
Empire. "I would speak to you about relations between your empire and
mine," the Klingon said in what passed for diplomacy on Q'onos.
"My staff will handle this," Vader said, and turned away as if
K'Jorl were nothing.
K'Jorl grabbed Vader's arm. "I'm speaking to you," he said.
There was only a small amount of menace in his voice. Picard had to
catch himself before he let his exasperation show. First the Borg,
then the Klingons, perhaps for an encore the Dominion could show up
and fire on a star destroyer. But apparently there was an encore
already planned... K'Jorl visibly swallowed, and his mild annoyance
was giving way to confusion. He coughed, then gasped, the grasped his
throat. Vader just stared at him, not speaking, not moving, just
watching as the Klingon stumbled about, choking on nothing. finally
Vader turned away, and K'Jorl let out a gasp and hunched over on the
ground, panting for air.
"And you are?" Vader demanded of the next in line. The little
man quickly babbled his name, and Vader continued through the
introductions faster than any Picard had ever seen.
"Jean-luc," Parks said under his breath, "what the devil did
you bring back with you."
Picard shook his head, having trouble believing what he'd just
seen too. "Hopefully not the devil."

Han settled the Falcon into the docking bay at the Rebel base,
powered down, and headed down the ramp with Lando. To his surprise,
in that short time frame, a small crowd had gathered there to wait for
him, including General Riekken himself. "Any word on the Kazon?" he
asked.
Han and Lando joined the group and together they proceeded
towards the command center. "We made contact, and they are definitely
interested in water."
"Extremely interested," Lando said for emphasis.
"They hate the Federation," Han continued. "Janeway in
particular."
"Her again," Luke said without a sign of surprise.
"Yeah, she's got quite a reputation," Lando said. Nearly
every species they'd found so far that knew of the Federation
mentioned this Janeway by name. Only one had anything positive to
say. While this reconnaissance was still in the very early stages,
everything so far sounded consistent with a power that would ally
themselves with the Empire.
"Tell me about the Kazon," Riekken asked.
"They're structured like a militarized merchant marine, with
different factions vying for different territories to either engage in
trade or just to raid or extort goods."
"What would be their position if we fought the Federation?"
Riekken asked.
"Standing on their feet, cheering," Han said. "But I doubt
they'd join in the fight unless we paid them, and I don't think it's
worth it. For their size, their ships are way underpowered."
"How underpowered?"
"We saw some ships bigger than a starcruiser with the
firepower of maybe a dozen X-wings," Lando said.
"Alright, so that leaves the Kazon out," Riekken commented, as
they entered the command center. Riekken stepped aside briefly to get
an update from the comm chief, then returned. "No other ships in the
area, looks like you weren't followed this time."
"And no sign of Han's friends?" Lando asked with a grin only a
backstabber could wear. Han gave him a dirty look and Lando covered
his mouth to contain his snickering.
"There's been no sign of the Hirogen since their attack,"
Riekken said, ignoring their antics. "Derlin's tightened security,
and Antilles is stepping up patrols, just to be safe."
"That's not going to drain our resources, is it?" Lando asked.
Riekken shook his head. "I made sure we had ample resources
for this. Supplies won't be a problem for a long time." He paused to
take a datapad proffered by a passing officer. "We lost track of the
Imperial ships heading for Federation territory," he said. "They were
on a heading roughly thirty degrees off the galactic meridian."
"That fits in with what little intel we have," Han said.
"'Across the galaxy' was what they kept saying."
"Given how divided and separated this galaxy is, I'm surprised
your information is even that good," Riekken said. "This is going to
make finding them much harder."
"It's something," Han said. "We take your lead, and maybe a
long range trip will give us some more info."
Riekken thought about it, then shook his head in mild
disbelief. "You do know it'd be quite a risk. You could wind up
right in the middle of Borg space without backup."
"I've faced the Empire without backup, the Borg are no
problem."
"It's still very dangerous."
"Sometimes you've just got to go for the Idiot's Array and
hope like hell you pull what you need," Han said.
Riekken nodded a little, then shook Han's hand. "Good luck,
Solo."
"Thank you, general," Han said, then turned to Luke while
Riekken got on with his report. "Where's Leia?"
Luke hesitated, then spoke. "She's training right now. She'll
be done in three hours or so."
"Oh," Han said, "not a problem." His tone made it clear that
it was.
"I know it's been a while-"
"Five days," Han said, turning and walking out of the command
center, Luke and Lando close behind.
"This is really important," Luke said. "She really needs to
concentrate."
"Yeah, don't we all," Han shot back. He almost ran into
Chewbacca, who was heading towards the Falcon to give it the once
over. "See what I mean... Hey!" Chewie stopped and turned back. "I
thought I told you to get rid of that thing!" Chewie tapped the
Hirogen helmet he was wearing as if he hadn't realized it was there.
"Yes, furball, that!" Chewie growled something then started laughing;
Lando chuckled. "Yeah, well I'm sure you'd have made a great throw
rug," Han shot back. He turned and stormed off, but Chewie barked
something after him, causing Lando to laugh so hard he had to grab
Luke for support.
Luke left Lando and Chewie to their jokes and chased after
him. "Han-"
"I don't want to hear it."
"She loves you," Luke said. He grabbed Han's shoulder and
turned him around. "It's not just words," he added. "I can feel it
coming from her whenever she thinks about you. She's not putting you
second."
"Every moment she's studying," Han fumed. "The last time she
and I had any time together was flying here."
"Then take her with you next time," Luke said. Han scoffed.
"She's going to be a little involved over these next few days, but
when she does you both can go on this mission together. You'll have
plenty of time then."
"Yeah, it'll be real romantic," Han said, turning and heading
off again. Luke watched him, shaking his head a little. You don't
know how lucky you are, he thought.

The Emperor was in meditation when he felt the mental touch of
his servant. He was across the universe in another time, but with the
Force even those barriers were insignificant. "Yes, Lord Vader," he
intoned.
"As you predicted, master," Vader said, "the Klingons sought
out an alliance with us."
"Are the negotiations complete?"
"Yes, my master. The Klingons are anxious to acquire our
technology. They are brazen and stupid."
"As expected. Talva is to remain on Earth, send one of the
others to the Klingons."
"Yes master."
"Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen it. Soon, they
will all be... mine."



CHAPTER XIV

Admiral Jellico couldn't help but smile as he watched the
docking clamps release. The Charlemagne and the Talman drifted out of
Utopia Planetia, two more ships returned to the fleet with their new
hyperdrives. Ambassador Talva had suggested that some Imperial
engineers assist in their refit efforts, and since then the time spent
in dry-dock had dropped from six weeks to a mere two. Jellico
appreciated that. It was the star destroyer floating nearby that he
didn't appreciate.
Jellico knew the Cardassians very well, and had been involved
in many aspects of planning the Dominion War campaign. Many times
he'd looked at reports and concluded that defeat was inevitable, and
were it not for a set of fortunate events and the under-the-table work
of Section 31, those would be Jem'hadar warships over Earth. When
Jellico had read Janeway's report, he knew that she had waken a
sleeping giant. He hadn't slept a wink that night, flipping back and
forth on the issue. Should they send someone out to blow up the
wormhole? He'd reached that decision more than once. But hyperdrive
was here, and the galaxy was a much smaller place, and he'd realized
that there was the possibility they were going to stumble over another
sleeping giant at some point, one they couldn't so easily escape. In
the end, the alliance was the safer option, but the sight of Imperial
warships instead of Dominion ones didn't set his mind at ease.
"Admiral," the lieutenant at comm said, "the Garret is hailing
us."
Jellico tapped the communication panel. "This is Jellico."
"Utopia Planetia," the Imperial reported, "we're tracking a
series of gravitation anomalies moving throughout the system. Are you
aware of what could be causing it?"
Jellico turned to Commander Wellis, who oversaw Utopia
Planetia. "Any idea what he's talking about?"
"We're not detecting anything, sir," Wellis said with a shake
of his head.
"Garret, we're not seeing anything," Jellico said.
"Utopia, be advised we are still reading over thirty anomalies
converging."
"Sensor ghosts," Wellis said.
"Sir," the comm officer asked, "Imperials use different
sensors then us... could these be cloaked ships?"
"The gravitational effects of a starship are too small to be
detected," Wellis replied. "Besides, there's no way the Romulans
could get past the sensor net and no reason for the Klingons to come
here cloaked."
Jellico took a deep breath through his nose. "I'm not taking
any chances. Raise shields, weapons at the ready, and get the word
out to the fleet."
"Sir, they can't be-"
"Don't tell me 'can't,' commander," Jellico said, "just..." He
trailed off and watched as Romulan and Cardassian ships appeared out
of nowhere. "Send a message to Starfleet command. It appears the
Federation is being invaded."

Moff Jerjerrod was in the command center of the Death Star
when Colonel Dyer arrived. Dyer had been the commander of the ground
forces for the Endor shield generator, and had proven capable during
the construction of the Death Star. "Report, colonel," he said.
Dyer presented Jerjerrod with a datapad. "All personnel and
equipment evacuated from the Endor moon, sir."
"Any problems I should be aware of?"
"No, sir," Dyer said. "The locals were only too happy to see
us leave."
"Good." Jerjerrod gave the datapad the once over. "Now," he
said as he continued scanning it, "you said you had something to
discuss with me?"
"Yes, sir," Dyer said. "I'm not sure if you were informed
sir, but we had a bit of a problem with the indigenous tribes. They
attacked the outpost on two separate occasions. We repelled them, of
course," he added, "but they did cause some damage, killed a few of
our men."
"Your point, colonel?"
"Now that the Death Star is complete, it will prove necessary
to test it, yes?"
"On an uninhabited world, colonel."
"I don't think anyone's going to notice, sir," Dyer said, with
just the slightest smirk. "After all, if the Endor moon was
well-known, we wouldn't have built the Death Star here. And it would
do a great deal for moral."
Jerjerrod smiled a little. It was a tempting target, and he
had heard the reports... the furry little natives were rather
difficult to deal with. He turned to the gunners. "I want a firing
solution on the Endor moon."
"Thank you, sir," Dyer said. Together they watched as space
turned beyond the window, until the moon filled it.
The concave formation in the northern hemisphere of the
station began to glow at key points, eventually lancing out small
green beams, or at least, small in comparison to the one that came
next, firing from the very center of the cavity. It picked up energy
from them and lanced forward as a ray of destructive energy, striking
through the planet and into the very heart of the ancient world like
the bolt of judgment thrown by a wrathful deity. In the blink of an
eye, the world exploded, debris filling a hundred thousand kilometers
in all directions. The Death Star sat unmoved as lumps of the planet
bounced harmlessly off its shields, uncaring about the lives that were
lost, unmoved by the devastation of such a weapon.
"A satisfactory test," Moff Jerjerrod said, "although I'd like
you to recheck the alignment of tube 2a, I think we had a significant
power loss in that area." No one else seemed to care either. The
Death Star turned and vanished into hyperspace, leaving an expanding
debris field in its wake.

Mon Mothma turned the recording off. "What are they planning
now?" she asked General Madine.
"According to our sources," Madine said, "the Death Star will
be heading to the Napuli System."
"The wormhole," Mon Mothma said.
Madine nodded. "It's believed they'll be assisting Grand
Admiral Thrawn in the Borg campaign, but I'm convinced this is just a
shakedown, ma'am. They're working the bugs out of the system before
the Emperor puts it to use against either us, or the other
civilizations beyond the wormhole."
"I see," she said. "What are our options?"
Madine thought and sighed a little. "I really don't see any,
ma'am."
"You're having second thoughts."
"About the rebellion?"
"About not destroying it when we had the chance," Mon Mothma
said.
"I wish we could have," he said. "But I don't deal in the way
things could have been, ma'am, just in as they are. The Death Star is
a threat we knew we'd have to face; now that threat is here. We'll
have to approach it with what is, not what could have beens."
"Of course, general." Mon Mothma looked at the hologram of
the debris field. "But I hope that 'is' can be done soon, or I fear
what will be."

The Mars defense perimeter went into action, but there was
little they could hope to accomplish; they just weren't equipped to
stop such a large invasion force as the one seen here. The Garret
moved on a course to intercept, but even the star destroyer couldn't
hold off over thirty cap ships. "What's the word from Starfleet
Command?" Jellico asked as he watched the engagement.
"They've launched all ships," the lieutenant said, and the
Imperials have helped form a defensive perimeter of Earth-"
"It's not Earth they're after," Jellico said. "It's Mars...
they want the hyperdrive."
"The Romualans and Cardassians aren't going to risk war for an
engine," Wellis said.
"Yes they would," Jellico said. Because I would, he added in
his own mind. If two sides are militarily even but one has the speed
advantage, Jellico knew who was going to win at least nine times out
of ten. The hyperdrive was strategically invaluable, it put cloaks to
shame. In the minds of those two powers, war was going to happen
sooner or later, so they might as well risk it now, when they could
possibly do something to help even the odds. That meant Jellico had
to do everything he could to stop them. "Any docked ships are to be
evacuated immediately," he said.
"Sir?"
"If it looks like they're going to get any of our ships, we
blow them up," Jellico said. He saw the looks on their faces. "You
have a problem with that?" He could see they did. They were
Starfleet engineers by training... they had the kinds of minds that
were perfect for understanding how to put together finely-tuned flying
machines, and zero understanding of the humanoids who flew them.
"Those are my orders."
Wellis was downcast but nodded. "Aye sir," he said.
Jellico watched the battle, helpless, knowing that the only
ships he could possibly destroy were his own. His stomach sunk as a
Romulan ship blasted the nacelle off one of the Galaxy-class ships,
and it veered off course, crashing into the Garret. Always ones to
seize an opportunities, the Romulans and Cardassians pounded the star
destroyer as it tried to recover from the collision.
"Captain Tans," came a disturbing voice over the comm. Tans
was the commanding officer of the Garret.
"Yes, my lord," Tans said.
"You are to stand your ground," Lord Vader ordered.
The Garret was suffering visible hull breaches under the
assault. "As you command, my lord," Tans replied grimly. It was to
buy time, Jellico knew. The fleet from Earth was on its way, but the
invaders could get in and out before then, unless the Garret stood in
the way. Vader understood the significance of the hyperdrive
advantage, and was prepared to sacrifice tens of thousands of his own
men to maintain it. Jellico didn't know whether to be relieved or
frightened. When the Garret exploded, he fell towards the latter, but
it only lasted a moment. Three star destroyers and two Federation
ships, including the Enterprise, emerged from their micro-jump and
engaged the dozen or so invaders left. The invaders tried to get
through to the prize, with war effectively declared there could be no
turning back without it. It was a fatal mistake; the
Imperial-Federation fleet didn't destroy so much as slaughter them,
and Jellico felt no sympathy. "Lieutenant," he said, "send my thanks
to Lord Vader for their aid and sacrifice." He watched as a flaming
Warbird fell towards the Mars surface, and wondered how the quadrant
would change in the days to come.

A small fire crackled and snapped in the darkness. Metal
quietly clicked against metal. There was the sound of breathing, not
heavy, but audible. Luke looked past the flames at his sister as she
worked, face almost contorted with concentration as she continued
assembling the pieces. He watched, he listened, he sensed, but he
said nothing. This was her test, and it would have to be completed
alone.
Then there was nothing but the fire. "It's finished," Leia
said quietly.
Luke nodded. "Then show me."
Leia looked at it as if it might jump out of her hands. "I'm
afraid it won't work."
"Do I even need to answer that?"
"No," Leia said with a sigh. "Do, or do not. There is no
try." She raised her hand and flipped the switch, and a blue beam lit
the darkness. She lowered her hand slowly, and the blade hummed as it
passed through air. She switched if off and looked up at Luke; he was
nodding with approval.
"Your training is complete," he said, his throat dry. "I
confer on you the rank of Jedi Knight."
Instead of being a joyous thing, the statement seemed to hang
over them like a foul cloud. "Luke, I'm not ready," Leia said.
"Yes you are."
"What, with a few months?" she said incredulously. "You're
insane."
"You learn things very quickly," Luke said. "You have a
natural tendency towards peace. I-" He floundered. "No jokes,
please, but obviously I used to feel attracted towards you, but since
we've learned the truth, I've come to realize that that attraction is
for the peace that just radiates out of you. It makes you a natural
Jedi... it's why your abilities manifested themselves even without
training."
"Luke, there's so much more I need to learn," she pleaded.
"That's called 'life,' Leia. With experience you'll grow
stronger in the Force."
"But I feel like it's not complete," Leia said.
"I know, I felt the same way. In the old days we'd have a
Jedi Master to guide us further along the path, but there are no more
masters, so we've got to just follow what we've learned. 'Already you
have that which you need,'" he

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06-09-2012, 10:57 PM#8

Quasimofo 

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CHAPTER XVI

Colonel Kira slowly crawled over another section of debris,
trying to get some readings on her tricorder. Unfortunately, it gave
her the same response as it had for the past several hours. No
lifeforms, nothing. Halva was dead.
Suddenly the tricorder sprung to life, and Kira looked
hopefully over the pile of rubble, then spotted the Starfleet uniform.
He climbed up the hill as she put away her tricorder. "Anything?"
Chakotay asked.
"No more luck here than orbit," Kira reported, looking at the
devastation. "They were totally wiped out.
Chakotay shook his head in disbelief as he looked as well. "I
can't believe even the Cardassian would resort to this."
"You weren't here for some of the Maquis highlights," Kira
replied. "There were a few things you wouldn't think any civilized
race would resort to."
"The Maquis or the Cardassians?" Chakotay asked.
Kira smiled, but it was a weary one. "Depends on the day."
Her smile faded away as she continued her visual inspection.
"Commander, you're a Starfleet officer, you've had combat and command
experience." She stepped further up the debris and looked across the
desolate landscape. "You tell me: why attack and destroy an
insignificant farming colony? It doesn't make any sense."
"If wars were required to make sense, our pasts would all be a
lot less ugly. But you're right. This will probably cause a
declaration of war, or at least some severe actions towards the
Cardassians. The local colonies may begin arming themselves again,
just like before the Dominion came, and for what? To destroy a
farming planet?"
"Could this be the Romulans," Kira asked. Things had heated
up very quickly once the Klingons got ahold of hyperdrives. Like
Admiral Jellico, they recognized the devastating speed advantage;
unlike him, they were excited at the chance of using it against their
old adversaries. The Empire had joined in against the Romulans as
well; for the moment, the Federation was staying out of it. "Maybe
they're hoping this will force the Cardassians to get involved on
their side."
Chakotay shook his head. "They were Cardassian ships. We
picked up their warp core signature when we arrived but weren't able
to track them. And the energy patterns are consistent with Cardassian
weapons. Logical or not, they did do this."
Kira sighed heavily as she continued looking at the remains.
"Then it looks like we're going to have a chance to watch hell descend
out here all over again."

"Get ready to jump to lightspeed the first chance we get,"
Leia said as she walked into the $#@!pit of the Falcon.
Han turned to her with surprise. "What about the
co-ordinates?"
"She was lying," Leia said quickly. Her Jedi mind trick
hadn't worked, but whether it was due to the Founder's resistance or
her own weakness was something she'd probably never know. "Just be
ready for an attack."
Seconds later, alarms began sounding around the $#@!pit.
Chewie growled something at Han. "Oh... great."
"Ships coming in," Luke said.
"Yeah, six of 'em," Han said quickly, trying to speed things
up.
Jem'hadar fighters swept towards the freighter and opened
fire. Han put the ship through all kinds of twists and turns, trying
to maneuver away to buy some time. With the limited data in this
galaxy the nav computer always took longer than normal, so he wasn't
sure how long he'd have to keep this up. Jem'hadar weapons slammed
against the shields, and Han tried maneuvers that threatened to
overload the stabilizers. Another explosion rocked the ship. "Rear
deflector shield is gone," Luke said looking at the instruments.
More alarms sounded. "Now what?" Han muttered, trying to look
at a dozen readouts at once and keep the ship from getting atomized.
"It's another ship," Luke said.
"Perfect," Han said through his teeth, jerking the ship around
again and cursing the nav computer.
"It's not Dominion," Leia said. "Look."
A small cap ship slipped past the Falcon and fired at the
Dominion. They turned and swarmed it, but it was a hopelessly one
sided battle. The last ship vaporized in a very short time.
"Thanks for the help," Han said, but just as the nav computer
gave him the coordinates a jolt tossed them around the $#@!pit.
"Tractor beam!" Han scowled, then hit the control panel for good
measure.
"Alien vessel," the comm said, "this is the Federation
Starship Overlord. Prepare to be boarded."
Chewie let out a low growl and Han ran his fingers through his
hair. "Well," he said, "the good news is we can stop looking for
'em."

Captain Picard had to give bad news often enough, but this was
the kind he could never get used to giving. "As of 0800 hours today,
a state of war exists between the Federation and the Cardassians."
The reaction was to be expected. "Well, why not," Riker said
sarcastically. "It's been fun the last two times, hasn't it?"
"The Council had no choice," Deanna Troi said. "The people of
the Federation are upset about what's happened."
"Innocent people dying," Riker said. "And of course, innocent
people don't die in wars."
"The people don't feel safe. They need to know that Starfleet
will protect them."
"Starfleet has protected them," Riker said sharply, "but even
with a hyperdrive we can't be everywhere."
"After rejecting the Empire's offer, the Council needed to do
something to make the people feel safe."
"Starfleet is perfectly capable of patrolling its own
borders!"
"I am sure the citizens of Halva would disagree," Seven said.
It had dropped a road block into the conversation. As they say, it's
not what you say, but how you say it, and how said Seven it was
straight and to the point. No malice, no judgment, simple
matter-of-factness... it was worse than any possible scolding, and
Riker shot her a look with daggers in it. Unfortunately, he had
nothing to come back with. Halva was in Federation space, not the
demilitarized zone; its destruction was Starfleet's failure.
"The Romulans and the Cardassians have formed an alliance for
mutual defense," Picard said, filling the tense silence. "That leaves
us in a rather dangerous position. We need ships to help prevent any
further invasion, especially along the Neutral Zone. The Federation
has asked for help from the Empire."
"How convenient," Riker commented.
"Is there a problem, commander?"
"Just observing, sir, how the Empire gets to deploy their
ships in Federation space thanks to this incident."
"You're not seriously suggesting the Empire attacked Halva?"
Dr. Crusher asked.
"Who benefited from that attack? The Cardassians? No, no one
did. It was pointless slaughter. And yet, the Empire gets to do
exactly what they wanted to do before, move their ships into our
territory."
"I don't know, commander," LaForge replied. "I mean, the
Empire may be a little different than what we're used to, but I can't
see them resorting to mass murder."
"You haven't been listening to the broadcasts from Imperial
space," Riker said. "This would fit in with things the rebels have
said about them."
"Commander," Picard said, "we both looked through those
transmissions, and we found a lot of accusations, but very little
proof."
"Respectfully, sir, I think this fits in with everything they
said. I see no reason to destroy a strategically insignificant
farming colony that until two days ago none of us had ever heard of.
There is no military reason for them to do that. None. The only
reason would be to get the Federation to support bringing in more
Imperial ships."
"Not necessarily, commander," Data said. "We have seen on
several occasions the Cardassians making moves that seemed
unreasonable at them time, but later proved to be part of a much
larger plan."
"Are you saying the Cardassians are coordinating some massive
military effort based on this instance," Riker asked with obvious
disbelief. "I find that pretty hard to swallow."
"I am not saying it is a certainty, commander," Data replied.
"I am merely pointing it out because you are continuing to hold to
your theory. You have based your belief on a false assumption; that
the attack on the Halva colony has an obvious immediate tactical
reason. I am merely pointing out that Cardassian behavior in the past
does not always fit that view." Riker was about to reply, but Data
pressed on. "What is more, the energy signatures found on Halva are
consistent with the energy signatures of Cardassian weapons. And
Cardassian warp signatures were found in that region. This attack had
to be made by a Cardassian ship."
"And who says Cardassians were piloting it?" Riker replied.
"If you are suggesting the Empire staged the attack, I am
afraid that is not possible. The Empire would need to take the ship
relatively undamaged to use it in this manner. Their only weapon to
do so is the ion cannon, which is ineffective. Their other weapons
would have rendered the ship inoperable due to the level of damage."
"Regardless," Picard said, "we are at war. Your feelings
about the Empire are well known, commander, but we have to accept the
situation as it is. Now, if you find credible evidence that supports
this position, Will, I'll take it to Starfleet myself, I promise you.
I don't like the idea of being deceived into aiding a monster, but our
hands are tied until then."
"Yes, sir," Riker said, looking straight down and picking at
the desk's surface."
"The Empire is our military ally," Picard continued. "They
have the ships necessary to help defend the Federation. Like it or
not, we'll be working with them from now on." He picked up a PADD.
"Our orders are to proceed to the Neutral Zone to rendezvous with a
fleet of ten Imperial star destroyers to help coordinate a defense
against any Romulan incursions. We'll need to be at our sharpest.
Dismissed."
As everyone got up to leave, Picard asked Data to remain. When
they were alone, he spoke. "Data," he said carefully, "I don't want
to provoke further distrust, so I'd like your opinion on something. I
ask that you not discuss it with anyone else."
"Of course, sir."
"Is there a chance that the Empire could have done this?"
"There is always a chance for most things, sir. However, if
your question is whether this is a reasonable chance, I would have to
say no. I have discussed the matter at length with Lt. of Nine, and
we believe that with the power of their weaponry against a Cardassian
ship, and factoring in their ability to acquire such a ship, staff it,
and deploy it, all without being traced back to the Empire, is very
low. It is more likely this is simply a Cardassian plan, one whose
motives are as yet unclear."
"Thank you, Data," Picard said. "Let's hope you're right. If
Will is, well," he shifted uncomfortably, "let's hope you're right,"
he repeated, unwillingly to even take the thought to its logical
conclusion, too fearful to see what it would be. "There's another
matter I'd like us to discuss. I intend to promote Lt. of Nine to
Chief Science Officer."
Data, naturally, reflected no emotion. "She is fully
qualified for such a position, captain," he said. "I believe she will
perform those duties quite well. May I inquire why I am being removed
as Science Officer?"
"Because you're standing still, Mr. Data," Picard said,
sitting on the edge of the table and crossing his arms. "The new
hyperdrive, the alliance, all this has made me realize how static
things have been here, and how much potential is being squandered.
You've been an invaluable asset to me over the years, Data... I think
deep down I didn't want to lose that. But I believe it's time for you
to do the job I know you're capable of. I think it's time for you to
take command."
"Thank you, captain," Data said. "But based on prior
experience, I am uncertain of how well others would follow if I led."
"That's all part of leading, Mr. Data. I've already spoken to
Will; starting tomorrow, you'll be working with him on handling
command tasks outside the normal scope of your duties. He'll still be
first officer, but I'm sure that in a short time you'll pick up all
the nuances. We'll send our reports to Starfleet on your performance
and I have every confidence that you'll be promoted to first officer.
It may not be on one of the best ships, but I think it's a step
forward."
"I appreciate your efforts captain, as well as your interest
in my personal development. I will endeavor to live up to your
expectations."
"This is what you want, isn't it?" Picard asked.
"Yes sir," Data said. "Though I will miss the friends I have
found on the Enterprise, it is true that my development has reached a
boundary I cannot pass without change."
"Well, Mr. Data, I believe change is something all of us are
just going to have to get used to."

Captain Praji entered Vader's meditation chamber and waited
grimly. He'd been the Dark Lord's aide back on the Devastator years
ago; with the loss of Vader's personal fleet his ship had been chosen
to serve as the command vessel for the time being. It spoke of
Vader's faith in his abilities, which was a double-edged sword. He
didn't brook disappointment well. "You are familiar with the new
Inferno-class vessels?" Vader asked, getting straight to the point.
"Yes, my lord," Praji said. The Inferno -first of the new
line- wasn't as large as the Executor, but would serve an intermediate
capacity. It was important in the wake of the Borg mess to have the
Empire show its strength, much as the Executor had done after the loss
of the first Death Star.
"The Inferno will be coming here; you will take command of it,
Admiral Praji."
"Thank you, my lord," Praji said.
"I want the ship prepared for engagement very soon, admiral,"
Vader said, unmoved by thanks. "The Cardassians will be pushed hard;
I expect you to be ready when they push back."
"Yes, my lord."
"What is the news of the Tal Shiar and Obsidian Order?"
Praji wet his lips. "We have eliminated many key members of
those organizations. However, a few have managed to elude us. I was
just preparing to increase our efforts-"
"No," Vader said. "Our attention must remain on the larger
issues. Call in our usual contacts."
"You mean- bounty hunters, my lord?"
"Yes, admiral. These alpha quadrant types are unprepared for
their harsh methods. See to it immediately."
"Yes, my lord," Praji said, then quickly bowed and left.

The Federation starship grew larger and larger through the
viewport of the Falcon. They watched helplessly as the freighter was
pulled into a large hangar located at the back of the ship. It was a
rather strange looking vessel; the front part was flat and round like
a table, connected to the rest of the ship by some kind of thin,
neck-like shaft. At the bottom, the shaft widened to about three
quarters the diameter of the top part, then stretched back just
slightly larger than the diameter. Branching off at about forty-five
degree angles were two more shafts on both sides of the ship, which in
turn were connected to long cylindrical objects. The whole thing
looked like someone had strapped the Falcon onto the head of a duck.
There was a metallic screech and a tearing sound as the Falcon
was pulled into the hangar. Han pounded the control panel. "The
rectenna!" he said between curses. "I hate the Federation already!"
"Hopefully we'll be able to worry about that later," Luke
replied, looking around at the interior of the new ship. He saw
several men approaching... men with weapons.
Han activated the landing system as the ship stopped moving,
then turned to Leia. "Well, your highness, I've found the
Federation."
"Nice," she replied dryly. The soldiers moved in closer,
while more personnel entered the hangar.
"Her," Luke said, pointing at the tallish woman in the middle
of the group, "She's their leader."
"There's something wrong about this," Leia commented.
Han turned to look at her. "You think?" he said
sarcastically.
"No," Leia replied, trying to focus, "there's no malevolence.
Just, nervousness, worry..."
"She's right," Luke added, "They're worried about us."
"Good, maybe they'll let us go," Han remarked.
"Whatever's going on, this is not the Federation I was briefed
on," Leia remarked, getting up and heading out of the $#@!pit.
"Where are you going," Han demanded, chasing after her.
Leia continued to walk through the passage. "To introduce
ourselves." Han grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
"Are you out of your mind?!" Han asked. "There's at least
forty soldiers down there!"
"Yes," Leia replied, "and I better convince them not to start
shooting at us." She pulled her arm out of his grip and continued.
"Look, I'm not abou...."
"No time to discuss this in a committee," she said, opening
the door to the ramp. "Try not to do anything that'll get me killed."
Carefully she walked down the ramp, doing her best to keep her hands
in plain view. She watched while dozens of weapons followed her every
move, feeling their terrifying stare. Using the Force to give her
strength, she continued down and walked off, staring at the central
group where the leader was. She walked to within ten meters and then
stopped.
"Greetings," Leia said, hoping they understood. They looked
human, but that didn't mean anything, not in this galaxy anyway.
"Greetings," the woman replied. "Capt. Victoria Price of the
Overlord."
"Senator Leia Organa of the Alliance," she replied in kind.
They stared across the hangar at one another, Leia probing with the
Force. She sensed only concern, and curiosity. "We come in the name
of peace on behalf of the Alliance."
"We welcome peace," Price replied. She turned to one of her
companions nearby and began talking. Leia noted that he looked
perfectly human, except for his ears, which were elongated with
pointed tips. They turned back, the alien stepping towards her.
"I sense that you are telepathic," the alien said stepping
closer. "I ask that you join me in a mind-meld. It will hopefully
answer as many questions for you as it will for us."
Leia probed the alien and detected no attempt at deception.
His impression on the Force was very strange, like a hurricane locked
in a bottle. He possessed powerful emotions, yet refused to let them
surface. "I consent," she replied. The alien walked up and touched
her on the side of her head. Images began flooding her mind -
thoughts, ideas, experiences that were not her own. Her entire
perspective twisted and shifted, and she found it difficult to
concentrate on any one thing. Suddenly, the alien pulled away, and it
all became clear. Everything they had wondered about in this galaxy
made sense, including the Federation.
The alien, his name was Kilvek she realized, turned back to
Capt. Price. "Captain," he said quickly, "we have a great deal to
discuss regarding the Empire. It seems things are even worse than we
thought."




CHAPTER XVII

"The Federation Council recognizes the ambassador from the
Galactic Empire."
A hush descended as Amb. Talva stepped up to the platform, his
normally smiling face masked behind a look of anguish and
disappointment. He had grown quite popular among many of the
representatives during the past couple of months, his winning
personality combined with an empathy and wisdom that made him a
natural leader in political circles. Taking a sip of water, he looked
up and began to speak.
"Esteemed members of the Federation Council, Mr. President,
loyal citizens of the Federation. I am here to report on behalf of
Lord Vader that the Emperor has seen fit to deploy an additional one
hundred starships to the Alpha Quadrant to ensure adequate defense.
Every attempted incursion into Federation space has been deterred with
minimal damage to both the Federation and ourselves. The forces of
evil have been held back, and the combined might of the Klingons, the
Federation, and the Empire ensure that your homes - our homes - will
be protected from these enemies of freedom."
A round of applause filled the room but Talva held up his hand
for it to stop. "We have ensured the stability of the Federation, and
I feel the same sense of relief you do. However, it is too little,
too late, for the citizens of Halva. We made a decision, a decision
that seemed right at the time, a decision that was rooted in the
universal hope of peace. Unfortunately, the Cardassians were not as
interested in peace as we are. And while I can and certainly due
admonish them for the pointless slaughter of ten thousand three
hundred sixty-one innocent men, women and children, I cannot justly
place those deaths solely on their shoulders. We possessed the means
and we had the opportunity to defend that world, and the Empire did
nothing. And willful inaction that allows injustice is just as guilty
as the man who commits it," he said, his voice growing louder.
"However much I would like to excuse it, those people died because we
have failed to carry out our responsibility in the wake of Cardassia's
attack on the heart of the Federation... their blood is on our hands.
"At the end of the earlier Cardassian War a demilitarized zone
was established in the hopes of ensuring peace. And for a time it
did. But it should seem obvious to all of us that peace is a concept
the Cardassians do not understand. And while they ignore the points
of this treaty by engaging in invasions into Federation space, former
Federation citizens are forced to languish under the iron-fisted rule
of these moralless beings. As we look at what transpires, we cannot
help but reflect on the fate of Halva... once again, we have the
power, the question is whether we have the will?" There were a few
murmured comments, but Talva pressed on. "We can examine the legal
issues over this affair and argue points of policy, endlessly debate
these actions. But while the Empire believes in the absolute
importance of the law, it recognizes that there is an even higher law;
that we must answer to our consciences. And my conscience tells me
that if we are saving lives how can that be wrong?!" he asked,
pounding the podium. "We stood by and watched Halva burn and did
nothing to intervene. Should we stand here and choose to turn a blind
eye again?!"
Talva took a sip of water and continued. "We have weighed the
issues carefully, and as of this moment, the Empire declares that the
area known as the demilitarized zone is now under Imperial protection.
Any attempts by the Cardassians or the Romulans to harm those worlds
and their people will be met with swift and irresistible justice." He
paused. "We cannot bring back the people of Halva, but we can learn
from that mistake. And we have. And the Empire will stand together
with the Federation and the Klingons," he said, his voice swelling,
"and we will tell the Cardassians 'Not one more world! Not one more
life! Not one more innocent soul will be lost to the forces of
evil!'"
Col. Kira paused the recording, and looked up at the members
of her senior staff, a grim look on her face. "I want all hands ready
for action," she said. "This war just moved to our backyard."

The Federation officers sat across the table from Leia, Han,
and Luke in the Overlord's meeting room. Chewie had stayed behind
with Artoo to repair the damage done by the Jem'hadar. At the head of
the table sat Capt. Price, a look of unease on her face. "I must
admit, I find this all a bit hard to take in," she said. "We don't
trust the Empire, but to believe they would resort to what you say..."
"They are telling us the truth," Lt. Comm. Kilvek said, "At
least, the truth as they believe it."
"I was briefed on your Rebellion," Commander Testh, Price's
first officer, said. "We were told that the Rebels were a group of
terrorists. How you had destroyed an Imperial space station with
millions of people on board?"
Leia, Han, and Luke looked at each other, wondering how to
explain this one. "It's true," Luke said, "because I was the one who
destroyed it."
The remark was received with the expected surprise, but Kilvek
quickly spoke. "The Empire, as always, has proven that a half-truth
is more effective than a lie." He pointed to Leia, "Tell them why it
was destroyed."
Leia wet her lips, calling back the memories of events she'd
been trying to forget over the past few years. "The space station was
called the 'Death Star.' It was designed for one purpose, to rule
through fear. It possessed enough firepower to punch through any
shield and completely destroy a planet. Completely." She closed her
eyes.
"The Empire tested the weapon on her home planet," Han said
softly, putting a comforting arm around her. "It was literally blown
to pieces in a fraction of a second."
"Impossible," said Tesh, "no station, no matter how large,
could generate that much power."
"I saw what was left of the planet," Han replied sharply.
"Asteroids, nothing else."
"That's why we had to destroy it," Luke said. "They were
getting ready to fire on the moon where our base was located, it was a
clear-cut case of self-defense."
Victoria Price rocked back and forth in her chair, thinking.
Finally she asked Kilvek, "You believe they're telling the truth?"
The Vulcan nodded. "Absolutely, captain."
Price nodded. "Then I suppose that's good enough for me. So,
what happens now?"
"Now that we've established you're not siding with the
Empire's evil," Leia said, "but have just been deceived, we'd like it
if we could have the opportunity to speak with your leaders."
"That could be a problem," Price said, a slight hesitation in
her voice. "We're not on the best of terms with Starfleet Command."
Leia gave her a puzzled look. "We don't exactly... work for the
Federation anymore."
"But, you said this is the Federation Starship Overlord," said
Luke.
"We've... well, I suppose there's no easy way to say it,"
admitted Capt. Price. "We stole it."

"The Breen?" Picard asked.
"Undeclared at this time, sir," Riker replied.
"What about the Yelnip?"
"They've decided to side with us."
"Thallonians?"
Riker hesitated. "Not too pleased with the Klingons, they'll
probably side with the Romulans."
"Anyway we can change that," Picard asked.
"Break away from the Klingons," Riker replied, rubbing his
eyes. "Sorry, sir. I didn't-"
"Quite alright," Picard replied. His report to Starfleet
command on the status of the independent worlds wasn't looking very
good. Many were anti-Empire or anti-Klingon, and the
Romulan-Cardassian side was starting to gain some support. Just a
year ago he was complaining about too many diplomatic missions;
apparently there hadn't been enough. "What's the current strategic
situation?"
Riker picked up a PADD. "No attempts to cross the Neutral
Zone, the conflicts are mostly along the Klingon-Romulan border. The
Cardassian forces have twice attempted to retake the demilitirized
zone from the Empire - both failed."
"I don't understand, no further incursions along the
Cardassian border," Picard mused aloud. "That was where it all
started."
Riker was silent for a while. "You know my opinion on the
matter, sir."
Picard rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. "We've been over
this before, Will, the Empire couldn't have done it. Only the
Cardassians could've launched that attack."
"Except, as you've admitted, there seems to be no reason for
them to have attacked. In fact, we've increased patrols along the
Cardassian borders substantially. It's actually made things worse for
them."
"Yes....." Picard disappeared into thought. Nothing was
making sense any more. The Federation was now at the center of what
was shaping into the largest war in known history. The fate of the
entire quadrant was being decided right now, and while it looked all
but certain the Federation would be on the winning side, the details
made him uneasy. There was a possibility he hadn't shared aloud, one
he dare not. He knew facts he couldn't share with his crew about what
had gone on during the Dominion War, had seen what desperation did to
mankind. Perhaps it was neither the Cardassians nor the Empire...
perhaps it was the Federation itself. Five years ago he would have
chewed out anyone who even uttered such a thing, but after the evils
he'd witnessed, he really couldn't deny it was at least possible. "How
are our two new promotions coming along?" he asked, hoping to shift to
a more pleasant subject.
Riker seemed to search for the best way to broach the subject.
"I won't lie to you, captain," he said finally. "Many of the
department heads resent promoting Lt. of Nine to Data's old position.
I don't want to name names, but some... some feel you're doing this
because of personal feelings for her."
"You mean romantic feelings," Picard said. "Will-"
"I'm only passing it along, sir," Riker said, then smiled a
little. "I think we both realize that Seven isn't the dating type."
"What's your opinion of her promotion, Will?"
Riker thought a moment. "She's the best qualified for the
job, sir" he said flatly. "But she does tend to rub people the wrong
way."
"Is it worth it?"
"Yes," Riker said unequivocally. "But if something could be
done-"
"I'm working on it, Will," Picard said. "She's very deep in
her shell, and I think it will take some time to coax her out, but I'm
doing what I can."
"Yes sir. And for what it's worth, I think what you're doing
for her and Data is very decent of you. Data, incidentally, is doing
fantastic. Frankly, I'm worried about my job," he said with a smile.
"Would you take him as a first officer?"
"Absolutely." Riker paused. "Do you have plans for me too,
captain?"
"You and I have had this discussion," Picard said. "I'm not
pushing you out the door, but I would encourage you to consider
stepping through it. But it's your career, Will; I'll not tell you
how to handle it."
"Thank you, sir."
Picard tossed the PADD on the desk. "Let's call it a night,
Will. The war will be waiting for us in the morning."

"You have to understand our situation," said Capt. Price, with
the slightest hint of guilt in her voice. "The Federation has stood
for a very long time for peace, justice, and freedom. All of us," she
indicated the officers present, "joined Starfleet because we believed
in the ideals of the Federation."
"I get the feeling there's a 'but' coming," Han said.
"We learned the hard way that the Federation ideals were just
that. In times of peace, one can enjoy high ideals, but when conflict
and danger comes, that's when we show our true colors. In the case of
the Federation, that danger was the Dominion."
"You've already seen a small sample of what the Federation has
had to deal with for the past several years," Commander Tesh pointed
out. "The Dominion is dangerous. Their leaders uncompromising, their
soldiers zealots. We were unprepared for the severity of their
attack."
"We became desperate," Price said. "Everything we had built,
all our high-minded philosophies took a back seat in the face of basic
self-preservation. Martial law was declared on Earth, and the rumors,
while unproven, held enough evidence to paint a very dark picture. In
short, we learned the Federation was no longer what it claimed to be.
A hundred small atrocities throughout our space made us realize that
we could no longer in good conscience continue our role in all of
this."
"So you stole the Overlord."
Price nodded. "The Overlord is one of the most advanced ships
in the fleet, and it was one of the first ships equipped with the new
hyperdrive, it was a perfect choice for what we wanted to do."
"And what exactly is that," Luke asked.
"We're returning to the ideals of the Federation," Price said.
"Starfleet was founded to seek out new life, not subjugate it. And
yet, our leaders are more concerned with logistics and planning than
with exploration and contact. That's why we left them behind, and
that's why we sought you out."
"You knew we were looking to make contact."
Price nodded. "We heard that a new group was looking for
information about the Federation. We'd rather you spoke to us than
with Jellico or one of the other warmongers in the Federation."
This complicated matters. There was a lot to consider, Leia
knew, but their mission still hadn't changed. "We should at least try
talking to the Federation. Perhaps they will listen..."
"They won't," Tesh interrupted. "The Empire is their savior
now. Too many politicians and admirals have put their reputation on
the line. They don't want to hear what you're going to tell them."
"We've got to find a way to make them listen then," Leia
replied. "The number of lives lost-."
"Lives already have been lost," Kelvik said. "The Romulans
have been fighting the Imperials and Klingons, and when we last spoke
the Federation and Cardassians looked to join in soon."
"Then we need to stop the growth of the Empire's control now,"
Leia said. "The Romulans, they're the ones fighting the Empire?"
"Yes," Tesh said, "but what does that matter?"
"Perhaps we could join forces with them to at least slow this
conflict down, give us a chance to get to the Federation and the
Klingons and tell them the truth."
Comm. Tesh laughed. "You can't be serious. The Romulans
would never trust outsiders. Besides, they're the Federation's enemy,
we can't help them."
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend," Leia said. "If we don't
do something the Empire will take control of all these worlds, and the
Federation, the Klingons, and the Romulans will be no more."
"I'm afraid she's right, captain," Kelvik interjected. "We
need to put aside our personal allegiances and look at the common
good. The Federation is merely a puppet of the Empire, if we remove
the Empire we restore the Federation."
"The Romulans will never ally with us," Tesh said.
"They're losing," Capt. Price said. "They're losing and they
know it. But they're also very stubborn. We need to find a way to
bridge the gap. And I have an idea." She picked up a PADD and tapped
on a few keys, then put it down. "An important member of the
military, Admiral Riklin, was captured by the Klingons and taken to a
prison camp on the planet Ho'rras. Assuming he's not dead yet, he
could convince the military leadership of at least considering an
alliance with your rebellion." She paused. "All we have to do is
find a way to get him off that planet."
"Captain," Tesh replied, "we don't have the resources to mount
that kind of a rescue mission! Besides, even if we succeed, think of
the ramifications! This could cause the Klingons to declare war on
the Federation, causing even more bloodshed."
"Perhaps," she replied, thinking. "But it seems that we have
too few options at this point. It's either attempt the rescue or do
nothing, and I'm not really interested in watching the Alpha Quadrant
go up in flames from the safety of this ship." She turned to Leia,
"What do you say?"
Leia spoke without hesitation. "You get us there, we'll get
him out. I guarantee it."
"And how do you propose to do that?" Tesh demanded.
Leia smiled. "Trust me."



CHAPTER XVIII

There was an open space between the concealment and the mesh
fence that surrounded the Klingon prison. Moving as quickly as
possible, a small group of Federation soldiers began cutting through
it. Luke looked beyond at the prison itself: two stories, at least a
thousand square meters. Automated gunnery towers were set up to fire
at any unauthorized entrances or exits, and inside were barracks for
the soldiers set to guard those identified as war criminals by the
Klingon Empire. They didn't know how many were inside; the dampening
field that prevented transport also made sensor sweeps almost
impossible.
The team at the fence returned to their position, just as they
had for the simulation, ready to charge headlong for the door that was
directly ahead of them. The Federation troops held their weapons at
the ready, their nervousness revealed to Luke through the Force. Luke
took the front of the line, Leia just behind him; both held their
lightsabers at the ready, though unlit. He nodded to Capt. Price, and
she signaled the Federation trooper. The trooper held the remote and
mouthed the count; on two Luke broke for the fence. The edges
exploded and fell in as he reached it, and the alarms sounded. Blue
and green lightsabers lit the darkness as the Jedi broke across the
yard, closely followed by the Federation troops.
The weapons on the tower activated. Luke stood fast on the
left flank, catching and reflecting the weapon's beam away from his
unit, trying to protect them as they rushed through. He felt Leia's
intense concentration as she did the same on the right. The fear of
the troopers was now replaced by determination as they rushed towards
the main building, the ones in front opening fire with phaser pulses
on the door, hoping to blow it in before they arrived, or kill anyone
who may try to come out. The Overlord's crew may not like war, Luke
thought, but they certainly weren't pacifists. Luke's blade snapped
out twice more to block more incoming weapons fire, then he fell in
behind his unit. He watched helplessly as one trooper was struck by
the tower and knocked off his feet, too far away for Luke to protect
him. The door exploded beyond under the constant barrage and the
troopers began charging in. Leia quickly followed the last one in
while Luke covered her, then dove in himself.
The entrance room echoed with weapons fire, but the two Jedi
didn't stop. Leia reached the control panel and stabbed it, causing
the door to open. She and Luke rushed in, leaving the Federation
troopers to hold off the Klingons while they searched for the computer
core. The next room, however, wasn't it. Eight Klingons were
strapping on armor; to their credit, three instantly had out their
disruptors and opened fire. However, neither Luke nor Leia were
caught off guard either; their blades deflected the first of the
blasts aside, then Luke took some more aggressive swings, reflecting
the shots right back at them and taking them down.
The weapons fire -at least, in this room- ended as the
Klingons examined the Jedi. Luke could sense their curiosity. The
one remaining Klingon with a disruptor put it back in its sheath and
pulled out a bat'leth, spinning it slowly with one hand. The others
were doing the same. "I have never met anyone brave enough to face a
Klingon in hand to hand combat," the first one said with a toothy
grin. He began stepping forward changing his grip on the weapon.
"Songs will be sung of this day." He charged Luke, his blade making
sweeping motions in a complex pattern of attack. But Luke had the
Force, and a lightsaber... he rolled low and to the left, slipping
past the flash of the blade, then swung up with his lightsaber as the
Klingon tried to swing back at him. The lightsaber passed through the
blade, then through its wielder; the Klingon dropped dead to the
floor.
Leia took a step forward, her blade raised and held menacingly
before her. Luke was quick to return to a fighting stance. Hopefully
after that he could convince them a fight was pointless. He put as
much authority in his voice as possible and said, "Don't make us have
to kill you, too."
The Klingons, instead of being cowed, were amused. "Then
perhaps today is a good day to die!" one cried, and together the
remaining Klingons charged, weapons swinging. Leia sidestepped one,
bringing her elbow up to knock him off-balance while she literally
disarmed her attacker. Luke jumped over a low slice, swinging down
with his blade to bisect the warrior's head. He hit the floor and
leapt like it was a trampoline, somersaulting over the two remaining
Klingons. He hit the floor and spun, catching one startled warrior
off guard as he turned to bring his weapon to bear. Again, the
bat'leths couldn't stop a lightsaber, and Luke sliced him in half.
Luke stepped over the remains of the Klingon, trying to press his
advantage. He made an overhead swing, but the Klingon slipped to the
right; an almost fatal mistake for Luke as the guard attempted a quick
counter-attack. Luke slipped out of the way and attempted a second
swing on the Klingon. Despite twice witnessing the futility, the
Klingon instinctively tried to block Luke's strike with his weapon;
the lightsaber continued right through the blade and into the Klingon,
finishing him off.
Luke whirled around to check on Leia, but she had already
dispatched the last armed Klingon. At the moment she was trying to
restrain the one-armed Klingon who seemed determined to fight on with
his remaining hand. It was almost pitiful, and Luke grabbed the
weapon out of his hand - a mistake, because he'd completely let his
guard down. The Klingon gave him a backhand so quick it almost
knocked Luke off his feet.
"I will not be your prisoner!" the Klingon roared as he tried
to press his advantage. Unfortunately, he should have quit while he
was ahead. Luke sidestepped each blow, finally, tripping him up and
pinning him to the floor.
"You all right?" Leia asked.
"I'm more embarrassed than hurt," Luke said.
"I will not be-"
"We don't want you as a prisoner!" Luke shouted at him,
feeling frustrated at the situation. He forced himself to calm down.
"We just want to get our people and leave."
"The murderous, dishonorable Romulans will never leave this
place alive!"
Luke concentrated and began speaking, very slowly, to the
Klingon. "I just want you to show me the computer core. You will
show me the computer core."
Hesitantly, the Klingon spoke. "I will take you to the
computer core."
Luke got off the Klingon and helped him up. The guard led
them through one of the other corridors up to a large, heavy door; it
was also protected by a force field. With some convincing by Luke,
the Klingon keyed in a code on the wall and the shield dropped. Luke
sliced through the door and entered; Leia took a seat. "Captain,
we've found the computer, but I can't read it." While she spoke Luke
tried to persuade the Klingon to operate the computer, but to no avail
- his hatred of Romulans was too great for Luke to overcome.
"I'm on my way," Price called. Soon she arrived and began
tapping controls, checking over the instructions and touching pads at
various prompts. Finally she spoke. "Cell 32, level 1," she
declared. "I'm deactivating the dampening field." Seconds later the
alarm sounded, followed by an angry Klingon voice. Price tapped her
communicator. "Overlord, I'm transmitting the co-ordinates now. Beam
him out, then get us out of here." Klingons began charging into the
room, and Luke and Leia provided cover for Price until the three were
beamed up. In the transporter room she hit her comm badge. "Riklin's
secure?"
"Aye, captain," said Tesh. "We're heading into hyperspace."
Price wiped the sweat from her brow. "Let's hope he was worth
it."

Julian Bashir and Ezri Dax shared a laugh as well as a drink
as they watched the evening's entertainment, which was Quark running
around like a chicken with its head cut off. At the moment he was
berating one of the waiters for some microscopic flaw. "Quark,
relax," Ezri said.
"I am relaxed," Quark said, straightening his shirt.
"Perfectly relaxed."
"Quark," Bashir said, "stop it. He may be the Grand Nagus,
but he's still your brother."
"Exactly," Quark said irritably, "he's my brother. Family's
always the first to take advantage of you-"
"Rom wouldn't do that," Ezri said.
"No? No? You don't know anything about Ferengi."
"Rom's a decent guy, Quark," Bashir said.
"Why is he coming then, hm?" Quark demanded.
"To see how you're doing, maybe?"
"Ha! Like I said, nothing about Ferengi." Quark stepped
behind the bar. "He's assessing the place... going to see if maybe he
should take it back, turn a tidy little profit."
"As much fun as this is," Bashir said, "we do have a holosuite
scheduled for this evening."
"It's ready, it's ready," Quark said as if he were waving away
an irritating bug. "They're just finishing the clean-up... had an
error with the bio... thing."
"Bio-reclamation?" Bashir asked.
"They're cleaning it up," Quark said.
"Thanks, but no thanks," Bashir said. "I'm not about to risk
Ezri and I being turned into random energy fields."
"It wasn't that kind of error," Quark snapped. "The system
just didn't trigger, that's all."
"Just the same, you'll pardon me if I wait until Col. Kira had
a diagnostic done."
"No refunds," Quark said quickly.
"I'm taking a rain check," Bashir said, and left before Quark
could speak up. He was bumped into by a Trandoshan who was coming in,
but Bashir decided not to comment.
"Listen," Quark said to the waiter, "when I say to recalibrate
the replicator I don't mean to rub it with a damp towel! Get to it!"
The Trandoshan knocked on the bar to get Quark's attention. "I'll be
with you in a minute, Mr.-" A clawed hand grabbed a lobe and pulled
him around to look the alien in the face.
"Bossk," the Trandoshan said. The universal translator was
having trouble, the speech sounded more hissed than it should. "I'm
looking for someone."
"Holosuites are being readied for that perfect companion,"
Quark said, mindful of the grip on his ear.
"I am looking for someone on this station, Ferengi," Bossk
said. He let go for the moment, but it seemed to be just so Quark
could see the claws up close. "I was told you could find them."
"I see," Quark said, nervousness in his voice. "Look, I'm
really busy right now, do you think maybe you could come back-"
Quark was lifted half a meter off the ground as the Trandoshan
grabbed his shirtfront in one clawed hand, and for a brief moment he
thought the reptilian was going to try and eat him. Instead Bossk
spoke with a menace the universal translator had no trouble conveying.
"Where is Elim Garak?" he demanded.
"Cardassia!" Quark shouted. "He hasn't been on the station in
months!"
"Where on Cardassia?" Bossk demanded.
"I don't know." Bossk hissed at him, a very unfriendly sound.
"I told you he left, I haven't seen or heard of him since!"
Quark was pulled inches from Bossk's face. "You had better
not be lying, Ferengi." Then he tossed Quark backwards, demolishing a
pile of bottles. He was knocked out by the blow, but soon the room
started coming back into focus-
"Uh- hi, Quark," Rom said cheerfully. "How's business?"
Quark lay amongst the broken bottles. "Fine, Rom... just
fine."

As the countdown completed, the starlines appeared and normal
space returned for the crew of the Overlord. Immediately alarms began
sounding. "Captain," the officer at tactical called, "I'm detecting
over eighty ships out there, ranging from slightly larger than a
shuttle to over... 1500 meters."
"Hopefully this is the alliance and not an ambush," Price
said, her own nervousness buried beneath her hardened facade.
"Assuming the two aren't mutually exclusive," Tesh replied
from the first officer's chair.
"Incoming communication, audio only," tactical reported.
"Let's hear it," Price ordered.
"Overlord this is Solo," as the voice of the pilot came
through the comm systems, "Hold your position while I inform command
of your presence."
"Are you sure this is the right thing, captain," Tesh asked,
his voice low. "It's not too late to turn back."
Price shook her head slowly. "We're committed now. We've
become involved. For better or for worse."
"We can still..."
"Still turn a blind eye?" Price replied gloomily, "Because
that's what we've been doing. We cannot continue to ignore the
conflict that is consuming this quadrant. If we can help, even in the
smallest way, we are obligated to help."
Tesh finally backed down, although he obviously didn't want
to. "Very well, captain. But I want to go on record as saying that
this is a mistake."
"Incoming communication, captain"
"Noted," she said to Test, then nodded to the tactical
officer.
"You're cleared for approach, Overlord," was the message over
the communication system.
"Lay in a course and proceed," Price commanded. The Overlord
slipped into formation with the rest of the fleet. Price knew, knew
in her very bones, that this was the right thing. She just hoped it
was also the smart thing.

"Run it again," Picard ordered.
Data tapped several panels and the image again showed on the
screen. They watched in silence as the people charged into the Klingon
compound, their weapons blasting away at the fortifications. There
was no mistaking the Starfleet stealth uniforms they wore, or the comm
badges they each had. Analysis of the weapons' effects clearly showed
that their weapons were type II and type III phasers. If this wasn't
a Federation attack, someone had gone to great lengths to make it look
like one.
And that was the problem. The Klingons were up in arms over
this, claiming the Federation had betrayed them to the Romulans. The
Empire was decidedly mute on the subject, but things weren't looking
too good for the Federation. Worf, as ambassador to the Klingon
Empire, managed to get a copy of the security recordings from the
attack, hoping they could ascertain the identity of the invaders. If
not, this already ugly war could get even worse.
"That device," Picard commented, "the one used to reflect the
disruptors. What is that?"
"Unknown sir," Data replied. "Its ability to actually reflect
the beam is puzzling. It obviously has some kind of energy
properties, but I am not aware of any technology capable of such a
compact projection method, or display those particular properties."
"I don't think any of us have seen anything like these devices
before," Picard replied.
"I have," Seven spoke.
Picard looked at her with some surprise. "The Borg?" he asked
with some hesitation.
"No," she responded. "Lord Darth Vader had such a device when
we met."
Picard looked at Seven with surprise. She had been with Vader
for only a few seconds several months ago, and yet she could recall
with certainty an unknown piece of technology he carried. The thought
boggled his mind, but he had learned over the previous months to trust
Seven's memory. "He didn't say what it was, did he?" he asked,
although he knew it was highly unlikely.
"No," she replied, "but I'm certain they are the same type of
device. They are almost identical in shape, mass, and design. I was
unable to find any reference to it in either the cultural or
technology files we were given."
"Which leads us, uncomfortably, to reconsider Commander
Riker's allegations," Picard concluded. "Only the Empire would have
access to such devices."
"Not exactly, sir," Data replied. "This technology came from
their galaxy. It's possible that anyone from their galaxy could have
used it, not just the Empire."
Picard sat up suddenly, his mind racing. All of a sudden, it
all fell into place. "The rebels," he whispered. "That's it... it's
the only answer that makes any sense. The rebels could have used
Cardassian ships to start a war between the Federation and the
Cardassians by destroying Halva. This begins draining our resources
and forcing the Empire to deploy more ships here. They then
impersonate the Federation and launch an attack on the Klingon war
camp to cause a division between us and the Klingons. The Empire is
then trapped in the middle of a complex war, further diverting their
attention."
"Interesting," Data replied, "but it is merely speculation,
sir."
"Yes, I know," Picard replied, "but it's the only theory that
makes any sense. It explains the Cardassian's pointless attack, the
non-existent Federation invasion, and who these mysterious individuals
were. The Rebellion has a history of acts of sheer brutality, so it
explains the Halva massacre. Besides which, the attackers clearly had
to be from the Empire's galaxy, so it's either the Empire or the
rebels, and we've seen no evidence that it's the Empire."
"But we have seen no direct evidence it is the rebels either,"
Seven pointed out.
"Perhaps," Picard replied, "but they're the only ones who have
benefited from this attack. And one thing I've learned from my Dixon
Hill days, those who have the means, motive, and opportunity are
usually the guilty party."
"If this is true Captain," Data replied, "how should we
proceed?"
Picard sighed. "We're powerless for now. I'll inform
Starfleet Command and hopefully they can tell the Empire what we've
learned. I hope they can restore peaceful relations between the
Federation and the Klingons. Mr. Data, I know Will has given you a
lot to do, but when you find some time I want you to go over the
Imperial data again. No offense, lieutenant, but a second glance with
this new information may turn up something that you missed."
"No offense taken, sir," Seven said.
"Good. Seven, I want you to analyze the battle again, in
detail. Specifically, those two combatants."
"You believe there is a connection between them and Lord
Vader," Seven said.
"The way they moved is superhuman, Seven. And what Vader did
was impossible. That all three possess these devices makes me
inclined to think there's a link."
"I will endeavor to find it, sir," Seven said. Picard nodded
and showed himself out, leaving Seven alone. She played the footage
in full again, paying close attention. After it was done, she started
at the beginning, paying particular attention to the one with the
green weapon. It was amazing to watch him; his movements were quick
and precise, flawless. It appealed to her Borg nature... maximum
possible efficiency. Not a single wasted swing or step or movement.
She watched him again, committing all his movements to memory... and
then despite that she still found herself starting again when it was
all over, though she would have been forced to admit she had no idea
why she felt so compelled.



CHAPTER XIX

Col. Kira rushed out of her office and into Ops. "Report!"
she shouted over the alert.
"Incoming ships," Lt. Blake called to her. "Cardassian,
twenty-three ships. They're on an intercept course."
"How much time?" Kira asked quickly.
"Three minutes."
"What?" she asked incredulously. "This is the first we've
sighted them?!"
Blake hesitated. "There was probably some interference due
to..."
"Please, spare me the Starfleet lecture," she replied, heading
for the lift. "Get the station ready for attack, and appraise Bajor
and Starbase 1172 of the attack." She stepped into the lift as she
tapped her communicator. "Nog, I want the Defiant prepped and ready
for launch immediately."

"Aye, sir," Nog said. He turned to his father, holding up his
hands in a placating gesture. "Look, I have to deal with this, we'll
discuss things after I get back." Rom had been trying to track down
the Trandoshan that roughed up Quark, but he seemed to have slipped
off the station.
"But I have some new information-" Rom said as Bashir and Ezri
came up.
"Lieutenant," Bashir said, "don't keep the colonel waiting."
"Sir," Nog said, and jogged off.
"Listen," Rom said, "this is important!" He turned to Bashir
and Ezri. "This alien is a bounty hunter! He-"
"Rom," Bashir said, "we really don't have time for this right
now."
"Look, I am the Grand Nagus, and I will not simply be
ignored," Rom said. It wasn't threatening, it was more the voice of
desperation.
"Julian," Ezri said, "go ahead. Rom, tell me everything and
I'll see what I can do."
"I'll see you when I get back," Bashir said as he took off
after Nog.
"Listen," Rom said to Ezri, "the bounty hunter was hired by
the Empire!"
"What makes you say that?" Ezri asked.
"Profits!" Rom said. "You think money is being passed around
and the Ferengi won't know about it?"
"You have a point," Ezri said. "But we are at war with
Cardassia, Rom."
"But what he did-"
"Look, even if the Empire set up the bounty, they aren't
responsible for what happened to Quark." Rom started to protest. "I
know he's your brother, and you feel like you owe him, but you know
that Quark deals in shady areas at times... and this is what happens."
"Don't dismiss this, just because he's a Ferengi," Rom said.
"You know I'd never do that," Ezri said. "Now, we better get
to a shelter, all right?" Rom nodded finally, but was clearly not
happy, and the two headed off for Deep Space Nine's emergency
shelters.

The Defiant pulled away from its dock just as the Cardassian
ships came out of warp. As the ship turned about and began moving to
intercept, Kira felt her breath freeze in her chest. There were
twenty-three ships alright, but not the standard Galors she'd been
expecting. These were the Keldon-class ships, much larger and more
powerful. She turned to the officer monitoring communications. "Any
help on the way?"
"We've got the Chelnys, the Latinia, and the Vorral
approaching from Bajor," she called. "They'll be here in two
minutes."
Kira ground her teeth. Four against twenty-three. This
didn't look good. "Well we'll have to buy them some time. Open a
channel to the Cardassians." The officer nodded to her. "This is
Colonel Kira. Why have you invaded our space?"
The image of a Cardassian appeared on the viewer. "This is
Gul Nulek. You will stand down your weapons and prepare to be
boarded."
"Standard Cardassian hail," Bashir quietly commented.
"And time for the standard Bajoran reply," Kira said. "Prepare
to fire on my mark." They watched as the ships moved closer and
closer, ignoring any orders to turn back. Finally, with no options
left, Kira gave the command. "Fire."
The Defiant fired a series of phaser pulses at the nearest
Keldon, battering its shields. The remaining ships of the fleet
continued on, fourteen heading for Bajor while the rest went towards
the station. The tiny ship performed some evasive maneuvers as the
Keldon's tried vainly to connect, then fired again. "Their shields
are at 42%," Nog called.
"Continue firing," Kira ordered. The Defiant rocked with an
impact, but they fought on.
"Their shields are at 34%."
Kira gritted her teeth. "Three quantum torpedoes." She could
sense the other officers on the bridge didn't like that order; even
though there was a war, technically Bajor wasn't involved. If Kira
deliberately gave the order to destroy the Cardassian ship, they'd be
in it up to their necks. "We've got two dozen ships to worry about,"
Kira said, "this is no time to play with the kid gloves. Lock on and
fire."
Three shimmering silver-white dots shot out of the ship,
traveling in eerie silence towards the Cardassian ship. The
explosions shook the vessel about as it experienced stresses it was
never designed to endure. "Their shields are gone," Nog reported.
"There's fluctuations in their power grid, multiple hull breaches-."
"Phasers," Kira ordered.
Nog only hesitated a second. "Aye, sir," he said. The
Defiant swung around at the Cardassian ship, it's pulse phasers
ripping through its hull. Within seconds, the explosions began
appearing throughout the ship. As the Defiant raced away, the ship
exploded in a brilliant shower of light and metal.
"Lay in a pursuit course," Kira ordered. She could see eight
Keldons surrounding Deep Space 9, the rest of the fleet already far in
the distance. "The other vessels should hopefully buy us some time.
Fire on the nearest ship as soon as we're in range: Six quantums in a
three quarter spread pattern." The tension on the bridge seemed to
thicken; many of these officers were new to the Defiant, some hadn't
seen any action at all in the Dominion War. They were used to
Starfleet's usually soft methods; heavy-handed tactics didn't go over
well. Well, Kira thought, it's time they learned what war is, in all
its ugly details. They were one ship against a small fleet, they
couldn't afford to pull their punches.
"Approaching optimal weapons r

And this is as far as I've gotten. I have writer's block for some reason.

 

[Beau Vine 54211]

16 minutes ago, Nice Guy Eddie said:

Mississippi's last stand for hospital care:

 

/desperately searching the pic for young Taylor.

[Beau Vine 54211]

I'm pretty torn between supporting a mask mandate that will help keep my kids safe, and opposing a mask mandate which would potentially put my kids' health at risk in order to own the libs.

Man, the dilemmas you face as a parent...

[MC Fresh Breath 4074]

18 minutes ago, Nice Guy Eddie said:

Mississippi's last stand for hospital care:

 

 

Quote

 

1,000 Kids in Mississippi Test Positive for COVID-19 After School Reopens
Thousands more are in quarantine after schools reopened in the state as the delta variant surges.

Nearly 5,000 children, educators and school staff are quarantined in Mississippi after returning to classrooms at the start of the new school year, some under mask-optional policies.

The 69 outbreaks reported between Aug. 2 to Aug. 6, which was the second week of school for some districts, resulted in nearly 1,000 children and 300 teachers and staff testing positive for COVID-19, according to a weekly report from Mississippi's Department of Health.

While many school districts adopted a mask mandate for the beginning of the school year, it was not universal throughout the state, despite pleading from the Mississippi State Medical Association last week for all districts to require students and staff to wear masks, regardless of vaccination status.

The highly contagious delta variant is ripping through Mississippi, which also has one of the lowest vaccination rates in the country, more than quadrupling case numbers since June and causing a deficit of ICU beds.

The state's early start to the new school year is providing a grim bellwether for school districts set to return more than 50 million students to classrooms over the next few weeks, many under mask-optional policies.

In southern Mississippi, Lamar County School District shuttered two of its schools during the last week in July and returned students to virtual learning until Aug. 16 after a week-long staggered reopening resulted in one high school identifying six cases among staff and 41 cases among students, forcing the quarantine of roughly 100 people. Highlighting just how contagious the delta variant is, after one week of in-person learning last year, the school district recorded only five cases among staff and five among students.

Despite the early warning signs from states like Mississippi and Arkansas, where than 800 students, educators and staff from one school district were quarantined just days after they began the new school year under a mask-optional policy, a handful of Republican governors are refusing to reconsider executive orders and state laws barring school districts from requiring masks.

 

https://www.usnews.com/news/education-news/articles/2021-08-11/1-000-kids-in-mississippi-test-positive-for-covid-19-after-school-reopens

[jimmyjazz 45898]

Here's a terrific article by Dr. Sanjay Gupta discussing "breakthrough" infections and what they really mean.  I'm sure most anti-vaxxers couldn't be bothered to read it, but if they did so with an open mind, it might change some perspectives.

Two good takeaways:  the reason the vaccine is more effective against severe disease and death as opposed to just preventing infection is because the immunoglobulins that are produced by the body post-vaccine are far more capable of entering lung tissue than upper airway tissues (nose, throat, etc.).  He also points out the obvious that seems to escape too many people, and that is the fact that as more people become vaccinated, the percentage of breakthrough infections goes up, and with 100% vaccination rate every infection would be by definition a breakthrough infection.

Breakthrough infections

[Telegraph_it 3357]

3 minutes ago, jimmyjazz said:

and that is the fact that as more people become vaccinated, the percentage of breakthrough infections goes up, and with 100% vaccination rate every infection would be by definition a breakthrough infection.

fuck it is sad that this simple concept is completely lost on some folks. 

[RDCanecutter 26411]

2 minutes ago, jimmyjazz said:

Here's a terrific article by Dr. Sanjay Gupta discussing "breakthrough" infections and what they really mean.  I'm sure most anti-vaxxers couldn't be bothered to read it, but if they did so with an open mind, it might change some perspectives.

Two good takeaways:  the reason the vaccine is more effective against severe disease and death as opposed to just preventing infection is because the immunoglobulins that are produced by the body post-vaccine are far more capable of entering lung tissue than upper airway tissues (nose, throat, etc.).  He also points out the obvious that seems to escape too many people, and that is the fact that as more people become vaccinated, the percentage of breakthrough infections goes up, and with 100% vaccination rate every infection would be by definition a breakthrough infection.

Breakthrough infections

So you're saying that vaxxes will eventually fail 100% of the time and that Covid is a hoax./EveryDumbFuckingTrumpkinIWentToHighSchoolWithWhoIsNowOnFB

[MC Fresh Breath 4074]

This whole thread will give you a schadenfreude overdose and is worth a click, but be careful.  I'm not sure at what point too much "Fuck Around And Find Out" can lead to shortness of breath due to cackling.  

 

 

[heso 2791]

51 minutes ago, The Dog said:

which district? 

I know RRISD did something similar but is still keeping them optional.

Suburb north of Pittsburgh.