StarDestroyer.Net BBS

The brain is not a muscle, but Annika Hansen Skywalker worked it anyway. With each passing day she subjected her body to a rigorous physical workout, ate like a starved Klingon, and took nutrient supplements like they were going out of style. But throughout it all Annika worked her mind, putting pieces together in every conceivable way. While her disease-ravaged body grew stronger and more fit, she poured over information with a passion. The Vong threatened on two fronts, the Empire was collapsing, Garak's terrorist network was running unchecked, and more and more systems broke away from the united front needed to stop all of it. For Annika, none of that was important. The one and only thing that mattered was finding her son.

Annika had started with Sanctuary, but the news from that planet wasn't good. The island of the outcast Borg was gone... not the settlement, the entire island, as if some great force had scooped it up. Annika had a worried suspicion it had been.

There were rumors, of course, of Borg ships being detected. None of them were confirmed, but Annika catalogued them all, just in case. When she'd destroyed the Borg Collective all those years ago, she knew most of the ships would be in deep space... and space was rather big. Salvagers no doubt stumbled across a lost ship here and there, but it didn't even qualify as a drop in the bucket. The firepower of a Borg fleet at the height of its power had been out there, waiting for someone to come along and fill those ships again, waiting to send them forth to begin assimilating once again. Sebastian had truly awakened a sleeping giant, one that a galaxy too weakened from war and internal strife, might not be able to repel.

At the moment Annika was working with the physical therapist when the Doctor walked up. Apparently knowing of the Doctor's personal relationship with this patient, the therapist left them alone. Annika finished lifting the weights, then set them back down on the supports. "Something on your mind?" she asked, wiping the sweat from her face with a towel.

"I'm not sure this qualifies as good news or bad news," the Doctor said. "But whatever it is, you're fit for release, if that's what you want."

"Of course it's what I want," Annika said.

The Doctor tried to hide his downcast look. "You know, you're not going to be able to find him... you know how big the Collective was, one drone out of that many-"

"Thanks for the pessimism," Annika said, "but I've already reached the same conclusion."

"I'm truly sorry, Annika," the Doctor said. "I can't imagine how you must feel, but I'm glad to see you've accepted the reality of the situation."

"Oh, I've accepted nothing of the sort," Annika said. "I just know that it will be next to impossible to track Sebastian down. Therefore, there's only one alternative."

"And what's that?" the Doctor asked.

"Time travel," Annika said.

The Doctor paused. "I hope you're trying to be funny," he said.

"Was it funny?"

"No."

"Then obviously I wasn't trying."

"Annika," the Doctor said, "I'd like to think you're a very close friend, so let me just say that that is the stupidest plan I've ever heard."

"Why? We've done things like this before."

"You can't just mess around with time for your own personal benefit!"

"Not just me," Annika said. "Think about how much damage the Borg can cause. If I can travel back to before Sebastian went to Sanctuary, I can save him and prevent the return of the Collective."

"Would you listen to yourself? You sound like you should be in an asylum."

"That's what we all told the captain," Annika said. "Remember? When she started exploring ways to travel back in time and prevent the conquest?"

"And she was crazy too," the Doctor said. "Look, we're all still here, and while the Empire may be crumbling, it's still the conqueror of our galaxy. Kathryn Janeway went mad trying to find a way to undo this... and if you try it you'll do the same thing. Sebastian didn't make this sacrifice so you could waste your life chasing a mad dream!"

"I won't need to," Annika said. "I'm not looking to do something as grand as the captain was trying. All I need is a small jump, and I'm sure she's mastered that."

"What are you saying?" the Doctor asked.

"I'm going to find Kathryn Janeway," Annika said. "If anyone can save my son from himself, it's her."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Admiral Yunar was leading a fleet into suspected Hirogen territory when the distress signal was received. Leading a fleet would normally have been a sign of his skill in command, but in this case he knew it was a conscious effort to shove him out of the way while the Empire quietly forgot about him. The Hirogen, already battered to near extinction, were only slightly more threatening right now than the Dominion, which had lost the "near" some time ago. They hadn't found a sign of Hirogen activity during the four months they'd been out here. The distress signal was a welcome diversion, but it quickly led to confusion. "What was that, captain?" he asked after the details were given.

"It's from Anbari, admiral," Captain Tilane, captain of the flagship, replied. "They say the Borg have invaded."

"Alert all commands," Yunar said. "We'll intercept."

"Aye, sir," the captain said. While he saw to the details, Yunar reflected. There'd been rumors for weeks now of Borg ships being spotted near civilized worlds, but they'd been seen as just that. After all, with the collapsing central government, the threat of Garak, the Vong, and the tragic loss of one of only two Eclipses left, the fear that their ancient enemy would resurface was understandable. This was probably nothing, but if it wasn't, it would help restore Yunar's damaged repuation by stopping them. Anbari, he recalled, was a fairly recent expansion of Cybot, a major droid manufacturing corporation that exploited the vast untamed wilderness of the Milky Way. Like many businesses not directly related to the war effort, the crippled economy was causing them plenty of financial troubles. Any attack would be a serious blow to the corporation, and that would trickle down to the employees, suppliers, and eventually the Empire as a whole... a very small overall effect, but these days the Empire seemed balanced on the edge of a razor.

The fleet dropped out of hyperspace, and Yunar was more than a little surprised to see the report was correct. At least twenty Borg cubes were within the system, many near Anbari itself; but they hadn't begun assimilating the world itself yet. "Have the fleet close to optimal range," he told the captain.

"Aye, admiral," the captain replied.

"Sir," the comm officer turned, "we've received another message from Anbari. They claim the distress signal was a misunderstanding, that they do not need assistance."

Yunar looked from the officer to the captain to the view out the window and back again. "It's a trick," he said. "That's obviously a Borg fleet."

"Yes, admiral," the comm officer said. "They claim there's not a problem, sir, that the Borg were expected."

"That's ridiculous," Yunar said.

"Yes sir." The comm officer paused. "I'm now receiving a communication from one of the Borg ships, sir. They want to speak with you, sir."

Yunar couldn't believe it, but there was no harm in listening to the Borg's standard hail. "Fine." Instead of the audio declaration, however, the flat display showed the interior of a Borg ship, and facing the screen was a Devaronian rather than a drone. "What's going on?" Yunar demanded."

"I'm Romal," the Devaronian said. "I speak for the Borg."

Admiral Yunar looked him over. "You don't look like a Borg," he remarked.

"No, admiral, I'm their attorney."

Yunar looked over to Captain Tilane, but the captain didn't seem to have anything more to offer than the admiral himself. Finally, after the silence became unbearable, he replied, "You are claiming you are the Borg's lawyer?"

"They are quite agreeable clients," Romal replied.

Yunar opened his mouth to reply, then paused. "Wait, I think I know you. Scandal wasn't it, on..." he snapped his fingers a few times as he thought. "Ord Mantel?"

"Sullust," Romal said sharply, "and it's ancient history."

"They nearly hung you in the streets," Yunar said.

"We are aware of the biographical information of Romal the Attorney," the Borg said.

"He was in bed with Black Sun," Yunar said reproachfully. "And it seems he's sunk even lower now."

"Your opinion of us is irrelevant," the Borg said. "We are minding our own business."

"You've invaded Imperial space," Yunar said, "which makes it our business."

"Actually, admiral," Romal interrupted, "this is their space."

"Not for long."

"Wait, wait! I mean it's still Imperial space, but the Borg own the system."

Yunar's mouth was opened but the last few words froze the part of his brain responsible for speaking until the processing was complete. "Did you say 'own?'"

"Yes, Cybot sold the system lock, stock, and barrel. Cutbacks. Troubling times, you know."

"But, but-" Yunar floundered. "They can't buy this system! Who do they think they are?!"

"We are the Borg, and we have a receipt."

"If the system was bought with stolen credits," the captain pointed out, "then the contract is null and void."

"Yes, that's right!" Yunar said, latching on to the point. "And how else would you have gotten that kind of money, huh?"

"A business loan from the Banking Clan, actually," Romal said. "In these uncertain times, they felt we offered a rather worthwhile investment."

"What business?" Yunar asked. "The Borg are... the Borg!"

"Ah, but the loan is made out to The Borg Collective."

"A Limited Liability Company," the Borg added.

"The Borg Collective holds the patents on seven pharmaceutical products including the cure for the fungal disease," Romal said. "They've already amassed quite a small fortune, enough to demonstrate their viability."

"And now they want to mass produce droids?" Yunar said suspiciously. "Why?"

"Its technological distinctiveness will be added to our portfolio," the Borg answered.

"It doesn't matter why, admiral," Romal said. "What matters is that it's all perfectly legitimate. The employees, like myself, will not be assimilated, and are free to move on at any time."

"Then why the distress signal?" the captain asked.

"Apparently a disgruntled employee contacted you hoping you would strike before this could all be straightened out."

"He will not receive his fruit basket," the Borg added.

"I assure you, though, this is an overall positive change for the sector," Romal said.

"This is ludicrous!" Yunar said. "This has to be a trick!"

"Why? Think about this for a moment, admiral. The Collective are the shareholders, the executives, the middle managers... and they all think as one, are concerned only with the economic success of the Borg as a whole rather than their own individual desires."

"And that desire is to destroy us!" Yunar snapped.

"Military might was a means towards an end," the Borg replied, "not the end itself. Our goals have not changed, only the method used to attain them."

"Biological samples can be bought," Romal said. "As can technology and raw materials. You are looking at the new economic superpower of the Empire, admiral. The Ferengi can't outspend them, the syndicates can't outmuscle them, and the terrorists can't infiltrate them."

"And the Empire can't tolerate them," Yunar said.

Romal folded his hands and grinned like only a Devaronian could. "Admiral, what exactly is the problem here, really?" he asked in oily tones. "You beat the Borg, and they know it, and accept it. They follow Imperial laws, serve as Imperial citizens, pay Imperial taxes... what more do you want them to do?"

"We have adapted to service your culture," the Borg said.

Captain Tilane cleared his throat. "Admiral, we've just received a communication from the regional governor, instructing us to ignore the distress call and not interfere in the Borg's legitimate activities."

Admiral Yunar glowered at him. "This is madness," he said in a voice only the two of them could hear.

"I agree, sir, but do we want to deliberately ignore the wishes of the governor and attack privately-owned ships in the hands of Imperial citizenry... ships that haven't even raised shields?"

"They're plotting something!" Yunar hissed. There was only one "s" in the sentence but he managed it all the same.

"Sir, respectfully, if you give the order we will fire, but given the incident with the Shade I truly think you'd be ending your career."

"For shooting at the Borg?!"

"I don't like it either, sir, but that slimy Devaronian is right about the law. The Borg were declared citizens after the conquest."

"The law said it applied to the former members of the collective."

"Yes, but there was no stipulation on them never rejoining the collective," the captain pointed out. "In any event, sir, interpreting the law isn't our jobs, it's for the civilian authorities, and they seem to be coming down on the side of the Borg."

Admiral Yunar fumed as he looked between the captain and the Borg ships. If it weren't for the fiasco with the Shade he could probably get away with it, but he was called on the carpet for pulling rank in that instance, even though he knew it was the right thing. "Mr. Romal," he finally said, "be assured we will be watching your clients very closely."

"So long as you do not interfere in legitimate business, I'm sure there's no problem with that," Romal answered.

"Would you be interested in joining our mailing list?" the Borg asked. Lumar nearly broke the control hitting the off switch.
--------------------------------------------------------------

The screen showed the star destroyers vanishing into hyperspace, and Romal's smile as well. He stumbled back into the wall, his legs shaking. "I was sure he was going to fire," he said as the Borg Queen and Sebastian walked up. "I'm going to need to change my pants!"

"It seemed a risk, but the new protocols are proving effective," the Queen admitted.

"Did you have to leave the shields down though?" Romal said. "I'm not irreplaceable, you know. There's only one of me."

"You are replaceable," Sebastian pointed out. "We can hire another lawyer."

"Thanks," Romal said bitterly.

"Shields would not stop their weapons," Sebastian said. "But credits did. Credits are power in the new order."

"Now we must see to our new business," the Queen said. "The worker who sent the distress signal is to be terminated."

"I hope you mean 'fired' when you say that," Romal said, mopping his brow with a rag.

"Yes. Remind the employees that anyone who does not wish to work for us is free to leave."

"Once that is complete," Sebastian added, "increase worker salaries by 12.17% to offset loss of morale."

"Noted," Romal said. "When will you directly take over operations?"

"When we resume production," Sebastian said. "We have selected drones for interfacing with the forty-seven managers." The Collective, after careful calculation, chose duplicate copies of a drone from species 3109. It was judged that a small, thin humanoid female would be less threatening to the human employees. Their opinions were irrelevant, but how those opinions influenced their work was not.

"Very well," Romal said. "I should point out that the distributors may refuse to supply your products, and legally they don't need a reason."

"They will not refuse," the Queen said. "Our units will have a cost reduction of 39.81%. They will be unable to resist no matter their personal opinions of the Borg."

"Um, you do realize that will substantially cut into your profits," Romal said. "Between the workers' salaries, machine upkeep, the loan-"

"We are aware," Sebastian said. "It is irrelevant. The system has adequate minerals to enhance our technological distinctiveness, and sufficient unused space on the planet for the construction facilities."

"Construction?" Romal said hesitantly. "What, exactly, will you be constructing?"

"Droids, Romal the Attorney, as it says on our paperwork."

"We are the Borg, and we have a receipt"

You sick, sick bastard.

The Borg Collective.....as a limited liabilty company.

They have the potential to be more sinister as business people than as a galactic menace!

I'm about one step away from cracking up...

When did Blood of heroes become a comedy? not that i'm complaining, it's good to have a laugh after all the death and tradgedy, and this is some of the funniest shit i've seen in years!

"I'm Romal," the Devaronian said. "I speak for the Borg."
Admiral Yunar looked him over. "You don't look like a Borg," he remarked.
"No, admiral, I'm their attorney."

"We are the Borg, and we have a receipt".

"Its technological distinctiveness will be added to our portfolio"

Can't.....stop......laughing.....

Chuck, you sir are a madman.

I think most good fiction writers know that even the most serious story must be interspersed with humor at one point or another. It breaks the monotony.

Great work, Chuck, I was just about rolling on the floor there.

Question from the crowd: Does the Empire know about Leia being ghost-toast yet?

He will not receive his fruit basket.

Heh.

Just out of curiosity, how long have you been waiting to do that scene? Must have been worth a chuckle every time you thought of using it.

Actually this:

We are the Borg, and we have a receipt

reminds me of Dorfl from the discworld, although I suspect the borg will turn out to be less nice.

That aside, time travel? Not going to end well, I reckon. Not that anything generally does in this fiction.

Prozac the Robert wrote:Actually this:

We are the Borg, and we have a receipt

reminds me of Dorfl from the discworld, although I suspect the borg will turn out to be less nice.

I think my assessment last time of Sebastian's Borg being like TNG Borg is pretty accurate still. They're still ruthless... business partners

That aside, time travel? Not going to end well, I reckon. Not that anything generally does in this fiction.

If you notice, Annika is going to ask Kathryn Janeway for help in time traveling. I won't spoil anything, but just read the last chapter to see why asking Janeway for anything is a bad idea.

Crayz9000 wrote: If you notice, Annika is going to ask Kathryn Janeway for help in time traveling. I won't spoil anything, but just read the last chapter to see why asking Janeway for anything is a bad idea.

Don't worry, I am following the story. But even without that, I don't see the idea being good at all. With it, well... heh. Impossible to predict where that is going.

On an utterly unrelated note, does anyone remember quite what happened to Data?

Prozac the Robert wrote:On an utterly unrelated note, does anyone remember quite what happened to Data?

He was subverted by the Empire in the early days of the Alpha Quadrant conquest, and became their agent. He then started dumping people off at random -- Deanna Troi disappeared while on the holodeck, absorbed into the ship's matter stream. Several others died in transporter accidents IIRC.

Eventually he conned Picard into believing that he had developed a weapon that would allow them to take out the Death Star 2. The Federation, along with the Rebels and Klingons, led an all-out assault on the Death Star 2 that turned out to be completely in vain. At the last moment Data rebelled, dropping the Death Star's shields to allow the crew to escape while he activated the station's self destruct. The Emperor then came in and destroyed his body, but Data had already uploaded himself to the station's computer, where he maintained the countdown.

His consciousness and body both went along with the Death Star.

Wow, thanks for all the quick, positive responses!

Yes, this chapter was a deliberate attempt to let a little of the tension ease out while establishing a direction for the newly established collective. Start Act 3 fresh without the emotional baggage.

To answer some of your questions: yes, I am sick... and a madman.

They have the potential to be more sinister as business people than as a galactic menace!

Spot on! A Borg in a tie with a briefcase is funny... until he walks into your house and announces there are "data anomolies in your tax records." But really, this is a very scary thought. Imagine if the worst rumors and stories about Microsoft were all true, now imagine it all in the hands of an amoral group like the Borg...

Does the Empire know about Leia being ghost-toast yet?

Yes, although there wasn't really time to dwell on it yet, Annika aluded to it with the crumbling Empire. We'll learn a bit more in the next chapter (ETA: Wednesday).

Just out of curiosity, how long have you been waiting to do that scene?

Holding myself back all weekend from spoiling it was near torture. A) the Borg are the ultimate straight man. B) I was hoping the implication got across that even though the Borg are trying this new thing, they still don't really get it. Morale is all numbers to them, so I like to think of the patient discussion with them on the idea of awards and casual friday and fruit baskets, none of which they can really understand but have to at least pretend to comprehend to deal in this new protocol.

Sonnenburg wrote:Imagine if the worst rumors and stories about Microsoft were all true, now imagine it all in the hands of an amoral group like the Borg...

"I am Gates of Borg. Resistance is futile. You will embrace the monopoly."

hm. I just considered something else.

Chuck, in Shadows of the Night, Act I wrote: "Well," Riker said, tapping the panel and causing One's picture
to fill thescreen, "I'm thinking that the nanoprobes used two genetic
samples andcrossed them. Would there be any reason for that?"
"Yes," Seven said, but her voice sounded different, as if she
didn't wantto say what she was saying but couldn't stop it. "Clones
have a difficultyin continual reproduction and make a species far too
vulnerable to diseaseand other attacks. That is the reason for sexual
reproduction."

Looks like Sebastian's making a bit of a bad decision for the Borg in this case...

Crayz9000 wrote:hm. I just considered something else.

Chuck, in Shadows of the Night, Act I wrote: "Well," Riker said, tapping the panel and causing One's picture
to fill thescreen, "I'm thinking that the nanoprobes used two genetic
samples andcrossed them. Would there be any reason for that?"
"Yes," Seven said, but her voice sounded different, as if she
didn't wantto say what she was saying but couldn't stop it. "Clones
have a difficultyin continual reproduction and make a species far too
vulnerable to diseaseand other attacks. That is the reason for sexual
reproduction."

Looks like Sebastian's making a bit of a bad decision for the Borg in this case...

I think he's going to be making the WWE version of Lando's anti-Vong droids.

Chuck, you have no idea how hard it was to restrain myself from laughing when reading that. Bravo!

Good..sureal but good.

The Eclipse was General Sullice's flagship in the campaign against the Vong. In the shocking aftermath of the loss of the Shade, and the realization that things were about to get a whole lot worse for the Empire, Sullice had the final ship of that line rechristened. It was the Eclipse that spearheaded the final assault into the Milky Way decades ago, and now it would do the same again, back in their own galaxy.

Sullice had been ready to retire, but then the Vong came. They swept across a thousand sectors and left the Empire scrambling to recover. He was long past his physical prime, but his mind was as sharp as ever, and he had the experience to mount the kind of campaign the Empire needed. Despite their every setback, he managed to hold back the tide. Every morning he arose from his bunk and entered the command center, and they'd fill him in on the latest news. It was mostly bad, but Sullice didn't rant about it, he just piled up the sandbags and held back the flood another day.

Today he didn't come.

Captain Tyrine went down to General Sullice's quarters himself. He'd been expecting this; he'd seen the man work, the weariness in his step, the way his face seemed a little more grey and hollow each day. Sullice ignored all comments, and piled sandbags.

Sullice was in bed, as expected. Whatever it had been seemed to have been quick and peaceful. His expression wasn't what Tyrine would call happy, but he looked contented. He could rest now.

The Empire, however, had to proceed quickly. There were sandbags to move.
--------------------------------------------------------------

A tricorder beeped in her hands. It was an old, old habit, operating a tricorder, and Seven did it without thought. Data was gathered, and she filed it away for later mental sifting. It was part of what being a science officer had been, back when there was a Starfleet to be a science officer in. The Empire didn't put much stock in science officers... they tended to bring in civilian experts for those rare times when it was necessary. Besides Luke's mission for the Emperor, it had never included Seven.

Seven... it was so easy to fall back into that name, she thought. It had been a voluntary concession when she'd teamed up with the Jedi Academy to investigate the crash of the Shade; having an Anakin and Annika around was an open invitation for confusion among people who were just trying to remember how to use their developing Jedi senses. Even after all this time of being Annika, it slipped on to her like an old coat from storage. She was Seven, using a tricorder, trying to solve a puzzle. She could have been that same ex-drone serving on Voyager right now, if not for the personal growth of the past few decades. She also felt better than ever. Years of wasting away had taken their toll, and she'd had to work hard to undo it, but now, without the disease sapping her strength, she felt unbelievable! She felt like she could lift a speeder if she wanted to, run a hundred kilometers, take down any Vong, any time, anywhere. But Vong weren't her concern at the moment. For Seven, her concern was the Borg, and only the Borg. Maybe that was why the old name fit so well... it put her in that mindset again. The young woman who had stormed the nest and destroyed them once, Seven, was here on the planet to make sure they didn't rise up again.

This planet, an unpopulated world in the delta quadrant, had now completely changed the direction of two entire galaxies of people. The Empire had sent in a salvage team... they found wreckage from the ship, and bodies. Lots and lots of bodies. Leia hadn't been among them, but there were no survivors found, despite an extensive search. That alone was perhaps the most shocking. There had been thousands of dead bodies across the planet, those who hadn't died from the landing had been found and murdered... with a lightsaber. If this Sith didn't have followers, then he was very dedicated to his craft. The dead were gone however, and the remains of the ship salvaged. They found no clues to where the Sith had gone off to, and the homing beacon had clearly been destroyed. Without the Empress' continued insistence on that point, the Sith matter was dropped from priority. With the exception of the Shade -a tragedy caused by Leia's insistence in hunting them down in the first place- the Sith had caused relatively few actual deaths, certainly not enough to concern the Empire when far greater losses were being caused by the assorted factions aligned against it. The Orion Syndicate or Black Sun caused more losses than the Sith had before this provocation. The feeling seemed to be that he should be left alone until the more immediate threats to the Empire were dealt with. Naturally Seven and the Jedi felt differently. The Empire's statistics had been family and friends; you didn't just calculate that on a cost-benefit analysis chart.

"Anything?" Laudica asked as Seven closed up the tricorder.

"Nothing new," Seven admitted. "I think it's time we check out the caverns."

Laudica nodded but was visibly unhappy about it. "I knew you were going to say that," she offered with a hint of a grumble. "I haven't had much luck with caves."

"We're not spelunking, we're investigating," Seven said as she climbed back onto her swoop. Laudica did the same, and after a quick comm message to the others, headed towards the entrance. The docking bay had been stripped of equipment, but it was still obviously an artificial structure; there were signs of damage on the walls from backwash. They made their way further inside, Seven noting the evidence of prefab walls and such being mounted on walls, floors, or even ceilings. There were signs everywhere of inhabitance if you knew what to look for, but little information of any use to Seven, even with her tricorder. Laudica, however, was another story.

"This place feels absolutely frigid," she remarked. "I mean, I'm sweating, but it also feels like I'm back on Ilum."

"Dark side?" Seven asked.

Laudica licked her lips and nodded, looking about with apprehension. "I don't like this place..." she said. "I feel like something's watching me, like a predator."

Seven looked at her tricorder again. "I'm not picking up any signs of life besides us," she said. "Whatever you're sensing, it's not physical."

Laudica moved cautiously now, as if being stalked by something. "Can't you feel that?" she asked.

"Sorry, no," Seven said.

"I'm starting to wish I'd never signed on for this," Laudica said.

"Nonsense," Seven said. "No pay, long house, and all the lightsaber hits you can't dodge. It's perfect."

"You're not making me feel any better," Laudica remarked.

"No offense intended, but your little Jedi-Sith feuds have caused me no end of grief over the years."

"Oh, and your little thing with Darth Whind, what was that, a parking disagreement?"

Seven balked. "How'd you know about-" She froze. "Anakin," she said sharply.

"He can be quite chatty," Laudica said with a voice like thin syrup.

"I can imagine," Seven said. "The whole light-dark thing, though, it's a little hard for a mind like mine to wrap around."

"There I can-" Laudica froze in mid-step, then fumbled for her comm link. "Anakin," she said sharply, "get over here right now."

"What is it?" Seven asked even as she thumbed it off.

"I'm not sure," Laudica said, "and I'm not going to bother trying to guess at this point. I might summon dark side demons or something."

Anakin arrived along with a couple other students. "What is it?" he asked as soon as he saw Laudica.

"You tell me," she said. "Come here." Anakin stepped over to where she was, and his eyes went wide.

"She was here," Anakin said distantly. "I can feel it." He trailed off for a moment. "Give me some room, please," he said. "In fact, if everyone but Seven could leave, this would probably be easier." The students departed as Anakin sat on the floor. Seven waited in silence as he slipped into meditation; she'd seen her husband and son at it often enough to view it as mundane. She waited, thinking over the data and seeing if anything interesting presents itself. Finally, he opened his eyes. "She died here," he said at last. "It was a jumble, but I saw the Sith, no question."

"Anyone else?" Seven asked.

"Yes," Anakin said, seemingly a bit surprised by the question. "A woman."

"Elderly," Seven said. "Seventy or so. White hair."

"Yes," Anakin said. Seven showed him a picture. "A little older, but yeah," he said. "How'd you know?"

"A guess," Seven said as she put the datapad away. "It's why I came... I was kind of hoping I was wrong, but this confirms it." She shook her head. "Janeway's in league with the Sith.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Delric Taar sat at his desk, sipping his drink. He'd been nursing it for the better part of an hour by now. On his desk sat a datacard; he could feel it staring at him, as he had the moment the academy administrator had brought it in. It was from General Sullice, to be delivered upon his death. Sullice was much too pragmatic and direct for this to be some kind of silly sentimental nonsense; there was only one reason he would have done this.

The glass seemed to have grown bored and decided to join in the staring contest. Taar set it down on the desk.

The Empire was going to fall. He'd never admit that out loud, but he'd been watching it, like a stack of wobbling dishes just waiting for the inevitable. With the death of the Empress along with the crew of the Shade, things were collapsing. The Senate had been reconvened for all the good it did; they had no power any more. No one could enforce their decisions, not with the Imperial military struggling to battle the Vong on two fronts and resist the hidden attackers from within. Local authorities still had some influence, but the central government had lost its hold. The brain was dead, and the limbs still moved for the moment before they too would wither and die.

There were Borg running unchecked in the delta quadrant. Taar shook his head and slammed down the remains of his drink at the thought. Perfectly legal, allowed to roam free under Imperial protection! He'd warned they'd go back to this, but no one had listened. He was a relic, a throwback, poisoned by prejudices of an era best forgotten. They had never had to face a cube with mere centimeters of plastisteel separating you from them, or watch them strip apart an Imperial fleet while all you could do was turn and run. They'd heard the Borg's standard hail, but never issued live from the Collective itself, a very personal announcement of exactly who it was that would be assimilated. None of them ever knew how close the Borg came to assimilating every last one of them... and instead of thanks, they ignored the accomplishments, even second-guessed them. And now that the Borg were back, they couldn't see past their bank accounts! They didn't get it: the Borg couldn't be bargained with! With each passing day the Collective was growing stronger, and people would smile and hand over resources and technology without the slightest thought of how it could all turn against them. It was like meeting a mugger in a dark alley to sell them a blaster... sure, you'll be richer for a moment...

Then there was that whole mess with the Vong in the Milky Way. Taar would have had half that galaxy's fleet on KP duty for that fiasco, what with the lapses in their defenses and the business with the superlaser. It wasn't that they were necessarily incompetent; Taar had had many of his students go on to fill command positions. But they lacked the proper mindset and perspective. They looked at this whole thing as if victory was inevitable... they didn't remember that the Empire fell at what was at the time the height of its power. It took a man like Thrawn to hold some small relic together, to have the vision to do what needed to be done at the time to weather the storm.

But Thrawn wasn't here... so who was going to do it this time?

"Kriff," Taar said under his breath as he shoved the datacard into the slot and activated his desktop holoprojector. A small image of the late General Sullice appeared... he looked far worse than Taar had remembered.

"Hello, Delric," Sullice said. "I'm sure by now you've already figured out why I sent you this hologram, so I won't insult your intelligence by explaining myself. I'd have done this while I was still alive, but all you would've done was argue with me... so now you can argue with yourself.

"We both watched it fall, Delric. We know what happens. You can see the signs, can't you? The Empress may have had the right idea under more ideal circumstances, but things haven't been ideal, and they've been getting worse. These Vong... they're a nasty business. We can't bounce back against them, and that's a fact. We go down this time, and we stay down for good.

"We didn't always get along, and I'll be the first to admit that, but I do think you're a top-notch commander who knows when to put the Empire before his personal career. I'm doing what I can... all I can... but I don't think it'll be enough, and I can't let this Empire you and I worked so hard to rebuild fall again. If I know anything about you, it's that you can't do the same.

"I know what you're probably thinking. You've been out of it for too long, fighting paper battles instead of the real thing. But the fact is, you can rally support amongst the military to stop the breakdown we had last time. You made more of them sweat in your classroom than the Vong ever did. If you lead, I guarantee you many will follow. I wouldn't have sent you this if I didn't believe it, Delric.

"But what about the civilian authority, you might ask. Frankly, Delric, it's a failed experiment. Make the decisions and tell them how we're going to do things, tell 'em why if you feel like it, but do what you think needs to be done. I don't have the energy any more to fight that kind of battle and hold off the Vong, but you were never afraid of that... you had the stones to stand up to Palpatine himself. The Imperial Senate will be a cinch.

"Everything is already taken care of; full rank, total command, it's all waiting for you... if you want it. No, if you take it, I know you don't want it. But it's time, Delric, to stop being a paper general and be a real one. Remember: we won't rise up again."

The little hologram vanished. Taar didn't move for some time. Sullice hadn't said anything Taar hadn't expected, except for the information about having full command. Taar had figured he'd have to fight for control, and he didn't want that kind of thing to worry about. The politics of command was something he loathed to this very day, whether it was dealing with each other or the civilian authorities. If he could do it without that... Oh, wake up, Delric! You can't get rid of that, that's why you wanted out in the first place! A paper general didn't have to worry about symbols on a paper bickering behind his back over the placement of an arrow.

Taar had originally joined the Academy to pit himself against the best up and coming pilots. But age had taken its toll on him, and he couldn't keep up with them any more. He should have retired from service, enjoyed a nice pension somewhere and forgotten all about the fleet. But he'd found a new passion in training up the pilots in the classroom. He liked awakening the true leadership potential of students who had the ambition to rise but the unrefined talent. He loved the moment when they finally stopped regurgitating and started thinking. More and more of the pilots had taken over command positions because cranky old Taar had pushed them until they wanted to murder him in his sleep. He'd already given plenty of extra years to the Empire...

Taar could deal with all of it the way he knew it should be done. Taar could forget the politics and win the war, the thing that really counted, the thing everyone else just assumed was going to happen even though the Empire weakened day after day. Taar could probably also work himself to an early grave, like Sullice did. Then again, the Vong would probably be happy to put him in one themselves, whether he fought or not.

Captain Tyrine must have been roused from his sleep, but he still managed to look soldierly. "General," he said in greeting. Obviously he knew or at least suspected the content of Sullice's message for him. "I take it you have made a decision."

"I do this," Taar said, "we do it my way. None of this political stuff, no protocol nonsense, we do things my way."

"That's the idea, general."

Taar formed the words as if announcing his own death sentence. "I'll be on a shuttle in the morning."

Amazing

SIGGED!

Kick. Ass.

Excellant.

I been reading this for quite awhile and I just wanted to say great story. I found your website when Paradise Lost was on its second chapter and eventually followed it to the achieve (it was quite some time later that I realized I didn't have to wait for every update, I could just come here). After the chapter where Leia died, I decided to actually join so that I could start posting. So thanks for this story. The last few chapters in particular have been great.

Thanks very much, glad to have you on board.