Star Crossed Fanfic

[Mark S]

Great chapter Stravo as always. Well worth the wait. Even with the gratuidus use of the the word 'volley'...

[Sarevok]

Great chapter.Well done Stravo.

[Anarchist Bunny]

Cool chap.

Completely caught up Stravo-wise(SC, TW, and C&A at least) and wondering where to go from here.

Oh and if you decide to squeeze in work on a new chapter CAIN AND ABEL!

While I'd like to see more of all of them, right now TW and SC are at a point that I could wait for a new installment(like a gap between a tri-duology of movies), but I want to know what happens next in C&A NOW!

[Shroom Man 777]

Hey! We could make a Stravo DVD box set!

[Xon]

Can I say this here. What the FUCK has happened to ASVS?? I posted the latest chpater in there and it has vanished under a sea of utter crap. I don;t see any of the regulars anymore. Should I just stop posting in there until things settle down?

That could be awhile, ASVS is dieing/dead as a result of the general change in culture on the 'net. Too many fucktards around.

A publically accessable non-moderated newsgroup is basicly spamming grounds these days unless its really active. And lets fact it, the ASVS is no longer very active(in terms of on topic posts vs off topic posts)

[Admiral_K]

Apparently Stravo has either died or in jail since he's stopped working on his novel.

[El Moose Monstero]

Stravo is enjoying a well earned break after a long trial (he's a lawyer), there's a thread about it in OT, I'm sure when he gets done with relaxing and the blackmailing update demands start mounting up, he'll get round to another chapter.

[Anarchist Bunny]

Apparently Stravo has either died or in jail since he's stopped working on his novel.

Stravo, can you do a title edit like Fast Times does so that we can tell the diffrence between a bump and a new chapter so I don't have the urge to stick red hot needles that inject acid into his guys face and genitals.

[Crazedwraith]

Apparently Stravo has either died or in jail since he's stopped working on his novel.

Stravo, can you do a title edit like Fast Times does so that we can tell the diffrence between a bump and a new chapter so I don't have the urge to stick red hot needles that inject acid into his guys face and genitals.

Or you good just check at the cleaned up section to see...

[Col. Crackpot]

Apparently Stravo has either died or in jail since he's stopped working on his novel.

*thwap!*

thalt shalt not bump starcrossed! grrrrrrr

[Sarevok]

Apparently Stravo has either died or in jail since he's stopped working on his novel.

Stravo was busy with legal work. He has posted a thread on this.

[Captain Cyran]

You shall all learn a horrible, horrible... death...

[Stravo]

You know, I have been serously debating replying because I know it will start a whole new round robin of people thinking there has been an update but I have to say, people laughed at me and implied I was egotistical when I put up a sticky about my fanfic status but I see that even a Sticky is not enough.

Now that I am back in action I will try to update as quickly as possible, but be aware that I am frankly burnt out and all I can look forward to is 2 weeks off in Miami Beach with nothing on my mind but thongs and tropical drinks.

So please be patient. There will be updates rolling out back on my regular schedule in June. I hope this is enough to stop the "Where is Stravo?" questions that begin the "Godamn it! Die!" pileups of eager readers angered by the tease. As always I am grateful for those who enjoy the work and all I ask is a little more patience.

Thank you. That is all.

[Natorgator]

First post! Arrrgh!

Enjoy your vacation...

[desertjedi]

Stravo, I know the pains and stress of trials, luckily I get to deal with criminal cases. GO enjoy your two weeks of thongs and fruity foo foo drinks, if anyone has earned it, I'm sure it's you. Oh and I don't want you to rush the next chapter because you are almost at endgame. I think you would hate to release a chapter that wasn't up to your usual.

[Shroom Man 777]

Well, trials can be hard, I've read about them...in John Grisham novels

Stravo deserves a break, where he can rest on a hammock in a beach and watch all the nudists...which are mostly old moldy people

[Stravo]

Ahhhh....it feels so nice to do this. Finally an update. Be on the lookout for others in the coming days as I get back up to speed. Please enjoy the latest installment.



Chapter 70: Unexpected Departures


Grand Admiral Thrawn stood, hands clasped behind his back staring at the expanse outside the view port of his quarters. His fleet was tightly clustered in low orbit of a blue green gas giant. Far too tightly clustered for his tastes but circumstances, strategy and the cruel mistress known as fate dictated that there was no other way to carry out the greatest hammer stroke against the sole organized resistance against Imperial control in the Alpha quadrant.

He had waited impatiently knowing that at any time the other powers would decide that the Empire’s goals were not jut for a single quadrant. They would not allow the Federation and its gallant Starfleet to slip into oblivion in the vain hope that Thrawn would halt his advance.

If they had any inkling as to the Emperor’s mandate they would throw every single ship and soldier into the breach against him.

Instead, they were content to sit back and wait. No one was ever eager to die.

But time was slipping by him and he knew it. How long before they would realize that there was no stopping his fleet? How long before they listened to Kirk’s envoys and realized that it was now or never? The Borg were gone, the Romulans defected, the Klingons were being bled dry and the Federation was only a handful of battles away from being destroyed and scattered to the winds. Without the great powers of the Alpha Quadrant how could they ever stand a chance?

With these thoughts starting to gnaw at him he started to feel a sense of urgency that he had not felt before. He could feel the ebb and flow of the war, the heavy tides of chance and initiative slipping around him and he did not like the way it was turning. There were too many enemies, too many angles and he needed to control every aspect of he was to complete his mission and achieve the impossible.

Galactic conquest. Never achieved in all the history of his own galaxy not even at the height of the mighty old Republic had a single commander taken a prize as vast as an entire galaxy.

But of course that was all consequential to the true reward that lay in wait for him. Oh what would those counselors and Sith lords think if they knew what was promised him?

Now he would be one step closer to victory with the oncoming battle. With Andor crushed the Federation would be out of bases and resources. They would be ground down to nothing in a new campaign he would launch immediately after the fall of Andor. In a matter of weeks the Federation and the Klingons would be arguing surrender terms instead of fighting him. Then he would have to make the great decision. Risk his flank and attack the other powers while Nemesis and his so called Imperium bided its time looking for weakness or attack the Imperium and risk bleeding his forces to the point where a successful conquest could be called into question.

These were the thorny questions that he was best at solving. He lived for these puzzles of tactics and strategy.

But now his intuition was telling him that something was about to happen.

As if in response to his thoughts a stardestroyer close to his center slowly rotated off axis, pointing away from the gas giant the fleet orbited and its engine nozzles flared up brightly like miniature suns.

Thrawn stiffened and a hand darted to the armored glass and touched it, as if he could reach out and grasp the mighty warship and pluck it from the stars. The Stardestroyer vanished in a flash of light and pseudo-motion as it entered hyperspace.

Thrawn’s hand drifted back away from the window as a chime sounded behind him.

He sighed softly.

“Enter.”

Jerjerrod strode into the quarters holding a datapad and trying his best to look composed. He was flanked by a pair of stormtroopers. He glanced down at the pad and back up at Thrawn. He opened his mouth to speak but Thrawn raised a hand to interject.

Jerjerrod shut his mouth and stood at attention.

“Let me exercise some clear deductive reasoning Jerjerrod.” Thrawn began quietly as alarm lights began flashing silently at several displays in his quarters.

“Sir.”

“First I assume that the communications division has verified the source of the coded beacon we picked up.”

“Yes sir.”

“It is as we suspected, a Sith emergency beacon.”

“Yes sir.” Jerjerrod replied his eyes on the Grand Admiral’s back. Thrawn stood back still to him looking out the view port, but Jerjerrod could tell that the Grand Admiral’s eyes were on Jerjerrod. Reduced to crimson slits were reflected in the armored glass as they regarded Jerjerrod with the interest of a surgeon.

“The Sith emergency beacon belongs to one Lord Darth Nemesis.”

“Yes sir and that’s why---”

Thrawn held his hand up again. Jerjerrod shut his mouth quickly.

“The information concerning this revelation was picked up by Lord Vader’s agents before it got to you.” Thrawn continued quietly.

“Yes sir.” Jerjerrod replied darkly.

“And as I suspected—” Thrawn was cut off by Admiral Piett’s appearance in his quarters.

“Grand Admiral, the Devastator has broken formation and gone to light speed.” Piett announced consternation etched on his face.

“Lord Vader has gone and done something rash.” Thrawn finished frostily.

“Sir?” Piett and Jerjerrod replied simultaneously.

“It seems that Vader’s inspection of his old command ship was just a veiled attempt to put himself into position to do just what he has done.” Thrawn explained.

“You don’t mean to say that he broke formation and the security of the fleet to try and investigate this beacon? It makes no sense. Without independent confirmation he could be heading for a trap or a simple mistake.” Piett protested.

“He has other means of conformation, far more esoteric means.” Thrawn replied.

“His Force.” Jerjerrod whispered.

“And with his rash decision to answer the beacon he has thrown this entire assault tomorrow into tumult.” Thrawn said coolly and finally turned to face the growing entourage in his quarters.

“Grand Admiral, we have the ships and the firepower to blast our way into Andor.” Piett said with grim resolve.

“True enough Admiral Piett but that is not the plan and never was the plan. There are times when brute force is absolutely required but this is not such a time. Vader was the key to a relatively bloodless victory and now he has decided to pursue his own agenda.”

“We can track him. His last known trajectory was marked and we can pursue.” Jerjerrod suggested.

“And what would we do then?” Thrawn asked.

“Order him to return to the fleet. Remind him of his duties to the Empire and this command.”

Thrawn shook his head ruefully.

“I have the most distinct feeling Captain that Lord Vader has acquiesced to following my orders up to this point because it did not counter his own agenda. I’m afraid that this time my orders would be meaningless. As the lord of the Sith he has certain…prerogatives that cannot be denied.”

“This is madness Grand Admiral. The fleet is poised to strike, we were ready and the longer we wait behind this gas giant the higher the chances are that Federation sensors will pick us up so close to Andor.” Piett noted with grave concern.

“If they already haven’t picked us up with the Devastator’s jump to light speed.” Jerjerrod added.

Thrawn nodded and glanced at each man for a moment before speaking again.

“No, we will hold position. I suspect that if the Federation had picked us up we would know about it. Instead we will hold position and do what every military commander in history has been loathe to do gentlemen.”

“Sir?”

Thrawn pursed his lips and his crimson eyes reduced to slits.

“We wait.” He answered and turned his back to the commanders.

They did not need to be told that they had been dismissed. Piett filed out of the room and Jerjerrod sharply turned as well to leave.

“Jerjerrod.” Thrawn called quietly.

“Grand Admiral?”

“The next time you enter my quarters with armed guards I will have you permanently dealt with is that understood?”

“Sir I do not understand.” Jerjerrod stammered.

“Those are not my personal squad of stormtroopers. It is a dangerous time and I have to be cautious Captain. You would not want me to suspect that there are ulterior motives to your bringing guards I do not know into my own quarters-” Thrawn turned his head to pin Jerjerrod with a steely unflinching gaze. “Would you?”

“No sir. Of course not. I serve only you sir!” Jerjerrod protested. In the back of his mind there was a dim blurry memory, like a half remembered dream of a stern voice asking him who he served. ‘I serve only you my lord.’ ‘Excellent.’ The voice replied. He felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and he grimaced in pain. Thrawn’s eyes narrowed on the young Captain.

“Indeed. That is the only warning I will ever give you Jerjerrod. I respect your talents and you have been an invaluable right arm but I will brook no threat to my command. If I were you I would think on these words. Dismissed.” Thrawn said coldly.

Jerjerrod snapped a crisp salute and turned on his heel striding out of the quarters.

“It is almost time.” Thrawn noted as he watched the young commander leave. He walked over to the comlink on his desk and flipped it on.

“Sir?”

“Double the watch on Khan and post one of your best men on Jerjerrod. Also inform the medical department that it may soon be time for an in depth physical of the command staff.”

“As you wish Grand Admiral.”

Thrawn snapped the comlink off and tapped an index finger on the edge of his desk in a precise rhythm.






The screaming wind of the dead and poisoned world increased in pitch, thick black clouds of soot and debris scraped the sides of the burned out hulks of fossilized buildings. Four figures huddled under the wreckage of an ancient flying vehicle imbedded in the side of one of the structures.

Picard coughed as the thick ash and dust settled around him, driven by the unrelenting wind.

“We cannot stay here much longer and maintain any reasonable hope of overtaking the Queen.” R-7 noted quietly.

“Indeed.” Picard replied wearily as he tried to peer through the thick haze. Somewhere out there she was racing towards her destiny and he could not shake the feeling that he was as well. His entire life seemed to shrink to these handful of empty moments before the final decision.

“I know I’m slowing you down, Captain. Just leave me here. I’ll set up a makeshift shelter, tend to my injuries and join you as quickly as I can.” Archer stated grimly as he shifted weight off his wounded leg and leaned more heavily against a dirt encrusted beam that jutted deep into the center of the makeshift cave. It was hard for him to imagine that this artifact dated back to the birth of the Borg Collective.

Picard turned and looked back at the young erstwhile captain.

“He has been slowing our pace dramatically, Captain. We have slowed from our initial pace by 40%.” R-7 added helpfully.

“Thank you R-7.” Archer interjected frostily.

“I’m afraid that I do not run my command in that manner, Captain Archer. We’re doing this together.”

“You’re a damned fool, Captain.” Picard frowned. “With all due respect of course.” Archer added.

“Captain Archer is correct. We need to reach the Queen and intercept her. Otherwise we risk the return of the Borg Collective.” Seven stated evenly. She did not try to acknowledge the aching in her breast at the thought of leaving Archer behind in this wasteland.

“We’re not sure she can do that at this point. We’re not sure what she’s going to do once she reaches that lab.” Picard replied weakly.

Archer shook his head.

“No, I’m not going to let you do this Captain. She’s going to restart the Collective and you know it. Then we’ll have the Empire and the Borg and frankly sir, I think anyone in this galaxy would rather live under the heel of the Empire than live as a drone in the Collective.”

“I would prefer neither of the options.” Picard muttered and looked into the young Captain’s eyes. “I’m not about to leave a member of my crew behind while I can help it. Otherwise would I be any different from her, using my fellows as throw away units, easily cast off when the whim suits me?”

“You’re over thinking this Picard. The worst part is that you know it. You remember the command fitness exams. What was the most difficult part?”

“Yes, I do remember.” Picard whispered. Every commander was tested extensively on various skills integral to a line officer. The last test was one that forced you to sacrifice the life of a crewman in order to save the mission or the ship. It was hard to look a man in the face, especially one that you knew and cared for and order them to essentially die.

Archer was being none too subtle in his reference. He knew precisely what it would mean to be left behind.

Picard searched Archer’s eyes for any hint of recrimination. He found only stalwart determination and wondered briefly whether the Federation could ever find herself in a state of abject defeat with men like these. Pride stirred in his heart but also cold realization loomed that he would have to make a decision he had hoped not to make.

“Captain.” Seven began. “Her goal is a simple one, Recreate a Central unimatrix here on this planet and rebuild the Borg Collective. No doubt she intends to recreate the Borg in secret and strike when the Empire least suspects it. Our last standing orders from Starfleet were clear. Destroy the Borg by any means necessary. Right now the Queen is all that remains of the Borg.”

“They’ll never be more vulnerable, Picard.” Archer urged.

“Captain Archer.” Picard stated tightly.

“Sir?”

“I’m going to need you to stay here and guard the base camp. We will be proceeding on in pursuit of the Queen.” Picard ordered softly.

“Aye aye sir. You can count on me.” Archer replied and groaned as he finally relaxed and slumped down to the floor. Seven turned away for a moment, anguish clawing at the back of her throat, making her want to cry out. She quickly composed herself and knelt by Archer.

She rummaged in her survival rucksack and handed him several tubes.

“You will need nourishment. There is no telling how long we will be gone.”

Archer smiled at Seven as he accepted the food concentrates. He gently reached out and brushed back a stray lock of blonde hair.

“You know, I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t tell you how much I loved you Annika.”

“Please do not…”

Archer placed a single finger on her lips. He shook his head sadly.

“I’ll be waiting here for you.” Archer promised, seeing only her face as he spoke despite the throbbing pain in his leg and the exhaustion setting into his limbs. “I’ll be waiting for you because when you get back Annika I plan to marry you and take you away from all of this mess to some domestic bliss.”

Seven blinked.

“I…do not know…I am not sure it is a good…”

“We’ll talk about it when you get back.” Archer chuckled softly.

“I will be back.” She replied without thinking, the words coming unbidden. She was surprised by the ferocity in her vow.

“That’s my girl.” Archer finished and without further prompting leaned forward and kissed her, gently and furtive at first and she stiffened at the contact but her lips welcomed his of their own accord and the hunger for him that had been slowly stirring within her uncoiled. She returned the kiss and pressed her hands on his cheeks and tried to draw the moment out as long as she could, as if she wanted this whole experience to be the be the sum totality of her existence.

The war, the terror, the death could all be held at bay even for just a moment by the power of this man’s kiss and she did not want it to end.

“I find human rituals of farewell far too complicated to comprehend.” R-7 commented as he looked over at Picard. Picard smiled and touched the android’s shoulder.

“Come on R-7. Let’s take one last look around before we head out after her.”

“I take it my orders are clear?” R-7 asked as they began to exit the artificial cave.

“Indeed they are R-7. We have to kill her, no matter the cost.”

“Rituals of war on the other hand are simple and I am quite adept at carrying them out.” R-7 replied and switched the power core of his phaser rifle to max kill setting. Picard turned at the entrance and looked back at the young Captain and the ex Borg drone as their lips parted. The bitter sweet joy in their eyes made him briefly wonder if he would ever find such love. He ignored the cold calculating part of him that wondered whether he would even leave this planet alive.

“Captain Archer.”

“Captain Picard.”

“I will be seeing you soon. Otherwise, it has been an honor and a pleasure.”

“Same here, sir. It’s not every day I get to serve under a living legend. But do me one favor. Kick her ass.”

“Consider it done.” Picard smiled and nodded to the young captain before exiting the cave.

“And you?” Archer asked Seven huskily.

“You will see me soon…and then we can discuss domesticity. I have my own ideas that we should explore together.” She replied. Archer laughed loudly and slapped his knee.

“Well then I guess we have a date.”

Seven gently caressed her fingers across his face, down to his chin and then lay her index finger against his lips, as she stood she brought the index finger to her own lips. She walked backwards, unwilling to take her eyes away from him. She finally reached the entrance of the cave.

Archer waved slowly to her.

“Be seeing you.”

She nodded and began to turn to step away. Paused. She turned her face to look at him.

“I have discovered that in the end I too cannot part with you without telling you that in my limited human experience, I do believe that I too love you Jonathan Archer.” She could not bear to say anymore and she exited the cave.

Archer sat in silence for a long while. The only sound was the low moan of the wind as it blew through the artificial caverns. He hummed slightly off tune and opened up a tricorder and checked his leg again.

“You know what sucks? Love stories like this never end well.” He muttered to himself and resumed humming into the cold dirty wind.




She watched them, struggling like tiny ants through a litter strewn field. They struggled through the overturned vehicles, shattered towers and piles of debris and refuse. They were moving with a determined pace and a murderous intent she smiled coldly at their wasted efforts.

“How valiant of you Locutus.” She whispered.

Her left hand was methodically typing string of code into an interface port.

“You know that you don’t stand a chance yet you still come. This dead world refuses to give you an inch and yet you come and most important of all, you know that the Collective might be the only chance against the Empire yet still you come.” She finished entering the codes and a deep bass rumble began to grow louder as if a great engine had been awakened from a long fitful slumber.

“I wonder Locutus what you would do if you did confront me. Would you follow through with your mission or would you look at the larger picture?” A massive crimson stained metal giant slowly rose up behind the queen. Extending four limbs out with a loud click whir of gears and stabilizers the armored giant rose to its full height. On each arm a multi-barreled railgun spun with a whisper of steel on steel as slugs were loaded into the ready position from belts feeding into the railguns from a central armory housed in the giant’s back.

The Queen smiled and ran a hand along the giant’s armored torso.

“You can kill me and end the threat of the Collective forever, consigning your precious Federation and the galaxy itself to eternal slavery at the hands of the Empire. Or allow me to resurrect the only tool that can possibly stand up to the greatest threat this galaxy has ever seen. What would you decide then Locutus?” The Queen murmured as the armored giant focused emerald eyes on her.

“You have your mission parameters?” She asked.

“Three to four targets inbound. Mission: Annihilate.” The war machine rumbled like a Titan.

“Excellent.” She replied and looked past the ancient war machine to the Ziggurat structure that was the goal of her quest. At the top lay the foundations of the ancient Collective and the promise of a new Collective.

“Resistance is futile.” The war machine rumbled.

“Indeed.” She smiled.



The Metrons were silent in contemplation. The Organians had called for yet another council of elders to discuss the impending end. The great darkness had consumed more than two thirds of eternity. The paradox of this very statement was simply another to be added to the weight of the paradoxes that had consumed this universe.

The species known as man had shown splendid promise. They were forthright and driven and most important of all evolving towards a higher state of consciousness. They were taking those first tentative steps into a new world. One day in the distant future of this galaxy they would ascend to a place among the elders.

But now they had done something unexpected.

They had destroyed the universe.

And there was nothing the elders could do. The Organians were unable to break their long tradition of non interference, even if it meant their own end and the Continuum was as much an enigma now as ever. The Metrons lacked the strength to stop the darkness.

So they did all that they had left to them. They contemplated fate and its many complexities in the fading hope that an answer could be provided to them. In the end, they were coming to the slow realization that the only being that could turn the tide was man himself. The creator of this doom was the only one that could cure it. If only they could find the strength among themselves to carry this out.

They were reminded that one of the great leaders of men struggling against the doom was James Kirk, a human that they were familiar with. It was James Kirk that had made the Metrons aware of humanity. He displayed the courage to embrace mercy against a fallen foe and in his defiant eyes they saw a future for this species that had only recently struggled from self annihilation.

Perhaps this was an encouraging sign.

Or perhaps they were scrabbling for hope in whatever scraps destiny had let fall from her table.

Suddenly the Metrons felt it. The very air around them seemed to thicken like paste and their disembodied energy selves faded into physical shells that they reserved for interaction with lesser developed species. The change was rapid, sudden and painful.

The Metrons screamed in pain and their minds immediately swept up and outward to discover the source of this attack. The ethereal plane of their existence was filled with a roiling darkness, vomited forth from an unknown source. The darkness was seething with hatred and rage. The most powerful of the Metrons could see past the rage and followed the shadows to their source. A metal artificial moon that had suddenly appeared over the Metron home world.

Alarm swept through collective consciousness of the Metrons as they deciphered the intent of the moon. They also sensed the source of the anger and unknown energy field. A voice boomed from the artificial moon as a massive energy cannon powered up.

“There is only room for one god in this universe.”

The death star unleashed its titanic energy beam and the Metron home world was blasted into a sea of mountain sized debris. The Metrons that were still trapped in their physical shells were blasted as well, consumed in the death of their home world. Many were able to flee, some half mad into a far plane of existence, wrenched from their physical shells by sheer force of will, torn from flesh and blood into cold energy their minds could not withstand the horrid transition and some were left half mad screaming into the ether, others floated in concepts and dimensions far flung in absolute silence in a state that could best be described as catatonic.

The few survivors that still had their minds and powers intact from the attack found themselves swept up in a tempest of crimson wrath, summoned by a supremely dark will and the Metrons struggled against this storm, many were torn apart, their energy selves painfully vulnerable to this attack.

A precious few managed to slip the hungry the maw of the Force storm and fled into the deep abyss far far away. The Metrons were scattered, divided and lost. All this happened in the span of moments.

The Emperor on his throne turned away from the spectacle of a dying world expanding in a thick cloud of fire and ash. The dark cloaked young humanoid knelt before his master.

“Your power knows no bounds my master.”

The Emperor smiled coldly as he contemplated the kneeling warrior.

“Remember well the lessons you learn here my friend. This is only the beginning. When this war is over, when all our goals are achieved we will shape a universe with our own will.”

“At last we will ascend to our rightful place, at last we are no longer troubled by the Jedi. This will be a great time.”

“Yes indeed we will. Now prepare for the next operation. Your services will be needed sooner than expected my friend. I fear that the Sith lords I have left here are slowly turning from my will and they will need to be disciplined.”

The young humanoid rose from his kneeling position, a hand going unconsciously to his double bladed lightsaber hilt. From the deep shadows of his cloak a clod white smile was clearly visible.

“I look forward to that moment my master. These Skywalkers have vexed you long enough. They will soon learn the harsh realities of the dark side. They will learn the folly of crossing you and I will be a harsh teacher.” He vowed.

“Go then my young apprentice and prepare for the lessons you must teach. You are my finest warrior bar none and I will soon unleash you on this unsuspecting place.”

The black cloaked apprentice bowed deeply and stepped away from the throne. He strode out of the audience chamber as crimson armored royal guards snapped to attention. The Emperor watched him leave. His presence was a miracle but one that he would never admit to.

“Like him eh?” Gary asked softly from behind the throne. The silver eyed god watched the Emperor with a veiled gaze.

“He has always been my most faithful student.” The Emperor replied neutrally.

“I admire you Palpatine. Even when I first called him forth you never once showed surprise or amazement.” Gary leaned in close to the Emperor’s left ear. The Emperor did not flinch or react. There was only cold confidence that this was a meeting of equals.

“I would hate to play poker with you.” Gary confided with a smile.

“Is games all you can talk about? The final plan is ready to come to fruition and you stand here admiring your own handiwork. I think it is time that we finally finish this.” The Emperor replied sharply.

“Patience Palpatine. You took over a galaxy in a lifetime of patience and political and not so political moves. You of all people should understand the concept of waiting for the precise moment to strike. After all what took you a lifetime I propose to do in a matter of days for an entire universe.”

“All may be going as I have foreseen but the future is growing darker and more difficult to see. The far sight is failing me as we get closer to the appointed time.”

“It’s to be expected, I warned you that as the entropic wave consumed more and more of reality that the threads of fate and destiny would unravel to the point where all attempts at precognition would end in failure. That works to our advantage Palpatine. The others will not see us coming.”

“Indeed. I however prefer seeing where I am going.”

“Leave that to me.”

“You will not be offended if I do not.” The Emperor replied without hesitation.

“Of course not, Palpatine. As long as in the end we both agree on what must be done. You do what you want until then and I’ll do my part.”

Gary bowed his head and vanished. Palpatine turned his throne slowly back to the view port and watched the last of the Metron home world extinguish itself in the hard unyielding void.

“All that is left is the attempt.” Palpatine whispered.

[HRogge]

Finally... another great part of Starcrossed.
Damn, it has been difficult to wait this long Stravo !

[Dartzap]

Simply amazing Stravo, simply amazing

[2000AD]

So who is the apprentice, hmmmmmmmm......

[Dartzap]

his own clone perhaps?

[Dartzap]

actully i have an idea


it might be a clone of luke, with the help of a certain hand

[Col. Crackpot]

[Ed Sullivan] Ladies and Gentlemen, The Death Star! [/Ed Sullivan]

[NecronLord]

Darth Maul methinks...

[2000AD]

Darth Maul methinks...

Wouldn't Maul still have been taken out by Obi Wans cheap shot?