Blood Of Heroes, Part XL
Posted: 2005-01-12 08:56pm
The air was still, but only for a moment. On the floor of her laboratory sat the Oracle, cross-legged, eyes closed, preparing. Her wall of screens stared blankly at her, her still form reflected on their dark surfaces in the low light of the room. The door was sealed, but not in the mundane affair of magnetic locks or interlocking mechanics. The Oracle called up dark Sith forces to prevent disruptions, whether mere disturbances from her work or an attempt on her life by her ambitious servant. While they remained in place, not even a lightsaber could penetrate the walls of the room. Before her lay tools and materials of such variety in manner and devising there were likely less than a dozen people in the history of the universe which could identify them all. They moved without any visible means, crystals and metals, ceramics and plastics, some being fused or shaped by tools, others realigning themselves seemingly of their own volition. Chemicals bubbled and hissed, altering their color and occasionally accompanied by a crackling of energy within the contents as if they were writhing to escape. The liquids came together in the air, forming a green and orange sphere, the light distorted through its swirling interior. Sweat ran in rivers down the Oracle's clenched face. With a suddenness like the fall of lightning the sphere hit her face and slid up her nostrils. Her head jerked back and her eyes went open wide in a look of frozen shock.
She screamed. Those two small words contained more than whole volumes could express. It was not primal, although the intensity could imply it. It carried much more than fear or anger could accomplish. Every howl of a human in unbearable pain, every roar of defiance at the uncaring stars, every cry by a woman in the throes of labor, every wail of lament at an untimely loss, every outrcy of rage at justice denied, every screech of terror before sharp jaws descended was contained within it, and yet it was so much more. It was the spectrum of human passions, greater than the sum of its parts. It shook the minds of Force-sensitive beings within a hundred light-years. It skipped up and down the length of the Oracle's lifetime, causing sometimes overwhelming sensations of dread and regret. But in the scream, a part of herself lashed out and embedded itself within the newly-formed pyramid that hovered before her.
Just as swiftly as it came, it left her bent forward and panting. Her eyes shone like twin stars, casting dancing shadows across the room. Her breathing steadied and her form returned more towards normalcy, although there was still a hint of something about her face in the low glow. She reached out and took the holocron with both hands and gently laid it on the floor before her. Her hands passed over it in an unreadable dance while her lips moved soundlessly. "Commencement," she said finally. "This is the account of the Oracle, master of the Sith and keeper of its lore. I give unto you my power and wisdom." Her white hair was picked up by the breeze that now circled the room, but she ignored it. "I tell you now my tale."
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Things were quiet on Wormhole Station. This was not due to a lack of activity; it was the result of a great flurry of activity that now led to a quiet, intense anticipation. Tension was high at the control center where the station commander and his senior staff waited to face whatever happened in the next minute.
One thousand Borg Cubes dropped out of hyperspace. Words can't do justice to the kind of bowel-loosening terror this sight can create. The Borg were citizens of the Empire, of course, but then, seeing a mob of citizens armed with pitchforks and torches does little for one's thoughts of peace and tranquility.
"Sir," the comm officer said, "they've hailed us." He looked quite pale, and his skin seemed to have a shimmer from the sweat. "They want permission to pass through the Wormhole."
That, of course, could mean anything. They could be going about their business, of course, but then, what business would that many warships have anywhere that didn't involve bad news for someone. On the other hand, their presence here was bad news enough for the commander, and he firmly believed in the pass-along theory of misery. Besides, after the mess the Sith made of his station, the commander was feeling less sure of his crew’s ability to deal with serious threats, and when it came to seriousness, well, Borg weren't known for being jolly. "Let them through," he said, his throat dry.
The fleet swept around the station into the wormhole. It took a long time, and the bridge crew sat on edge as they passed. As the last cube exited, an object was beamed onto the bridge, causing brief pandemonium until it was revealed to be a brochure. The words "Savings Not To Be Resisted" was printed boldly across the top. The crew hid behind a barrier while a droid disposed of it.
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Romal paced as he wrung his hands. "I've changed my mind," he said. "Send me back."
"It is too late," Sebastian said. At the moment, two drones were making modifications to his cybernetics by attaching devices at the outside wrists.
"It's never too late to turn back!" Romal said. "I've known people who have based their careers on it."
"There is no time," the Queen said. "We are already traveling at maximum velocity to attempt to catch up with the Imperial fleet. We cannot stop now."
"I'm not a soldier!" Romal protested.
"Neither are we," the Queen replied.
"You know what I mean," Romal said darkly. "I'm no good in a battle!"
"You are a negotiator," Sebastian said. "We have no skill in negotiation. You must comply."
"'You must comply,'" Romal said with sarcasm. "Why do I bother? I have had more attempts on my life since signing on with you then I ever had in my previous practice."
"No, you have not." Romal turned to Sebastian. "You had seven attempts on your life previously. And at those times the Borg were not there to protect you."
Romal stopped in mid-retort. "Okay, you've got a point there. But really, what good am I going to be to you here? The Vong don't know the meaning of diplomacy."
"Negotiation with the Vong is futile," the Queen said. "But negotiation with the Empire may be required."
"General Taar's animosity towards us is well known," Sebastian said. "We may require you to convince him not to destroy us."
"Your presence will no doubt provide some additional motivation for your arguments," the Queen observed.
"Thanks a lot," Romal said moodily.
"We will compensate you," Sebastian said. "A bonus for your success."
"And if I don't succeed?"
The Borg seemed to consider this.
"Then it is unlikely it would matter." The drones stepped away from Sebastian, who examined the modifications clinically.
"You haven't exactly improved my morale," Romal said. In response, a drone appeared holding a fruit basket. "Thank you," he said, but sarcasm was lost on the Borg.
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There had been some initial apprehension about the Millennium Falcon landing at one of the alliance bases, but when Han had revealed they had some major news about the Vong, it had been overlooked. Nevertheless, Borda's people took great pains to examine the ship and its cargo in detail for the possibility of being tracked. They turned up nothing, although there was apprehension about their frozen companion.
"Who is he?" Kilana asked as four of Borda's people brought it down the ramp. "A friend of yours?"
"No," Han said. "Know him by reputation only."
"He can help us?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" Kilana looked at him critically. "I risked my life for a maybe?"
"We didn't rescue him for his help," Han said. "We did it because of what they did to him." He touched the carbonite carefully, as if worried it'd be too hot. "I wouldn't do this to my worst enemy," he said quietly. He began making some adjustments. "Let's stand this thing up to make it a little easier. In fact," he said as an afterthought, "we should probably move this outside, just to be on the safe side. I've heard he can be rather ornery and we wouldn't want him destroying your hangar... or my ship."
"You know, you never did answer my question." Kilana said. "Who is he?"
The group started manhandling the slab into position. "His name's Kalib," Han said. "Information broker, among other things. He's not on anyone's side exactly, but being a Vong prisoner should put him on our side, if we're lucky."
"And if we're not lucky?" Kilana asked.
"Then he might hold a grudge against the entire universe," Han said. "And from what I've heard, he just might try to act on it, starting with us."
"Wait, then why are we-"
"Here goes nothing," he said, ignoring Kilana as he operating the controls. The carbonite slowly melted away, exposing trapped limbs to air once again. Finally the front was completely clear, leaving the occupant free to step out.
Kalib fell face forward onto the ground.
"Is he still frozen?" Kilana asked, recovering from the shock of the impact that had shaken the ground.
"No," Han said. "Just having a little trouble I think."
"You don't sound like a Vong," said a voice muffled by grass.
"No," Kilana said. "We rescued you."
"Oh," the prone figure said, still face down on the ground. "Thanks."
"Um, do you want us to help you up?"
"No, I think I'd rather lie face down in the dirt here until the heat death of the universe."
"There's no need for sarcasm," Kilana said.
"Who's being sarcastic?" Kalib said. "You ever been carbon-frozen? Face down in the dirt is a hell of an improvement."
"I hear you," Han muttered.
Kalib was quiet. "Solo?"
"Yeah, it's me," Han said. "You've heard of me?"
"Just from the guys who were freezing me," Kalib said. "How long did it take you to recover?"
"What year is it?" Han asked.
"He's not being sarcastic either," Kalib told Kilana. "Could someone get me something to eat? There's some things you just can't do on an empty stomach." He groaned a little. "Throwing up is one of them, and I'd really like to right now."
"How's your vision?" Han asked.
"I'm face down in the dirt, any more stupid questions?"
"You can try sitting up," Han suggested.
"Yeah, and you can-" Kalib's description was rather graphic, but suffice to say it left four of them wincing, an Arcona confused, and Kilana wishing she had a datapad to write it down. A flock of birds flew from a nearby tree.
"All right," Han said. "If that's how you feel."
"[Should we fetch a medical droid?]" the Rodian asked.
"No!" Kalib said. "None of your voodoo witch doctors or whatever; been poked and prodded enough thank you. Just let me lie here for a while... what kind of star we orbiting?"
"G-class," Kilana said.
"Good, should be plenty of time before it explodes to get some rest."
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Hundreds of ships filled the skies over Dantoonie, a world that had been on various sides of the front line in this war. At the moment it was in Imperial territory, and the launch point for Taar's campaign into Vong territory. He expected them to beef up security in the wake of Solo's incursion, but these numbers would be more than enough for the conquest of a single world. It was just a pity they didn't have another Eclipse; it would make this job much easier.
Among the arriving ships was a transport from Chandrilla, which docked with the Defiance, Taar's flagship. Its passengers were quickly escorted to the bridge. Taar gave them an indifferent expression; he had no ill will for them, but his concentration was needed elsewhere at the moment. He went back to examining the reports with the Defiance's captain while the executive officer came over. "Welcome aboard," he offered, doing his best to seem sincere in doing work that might normally be assigned to some lieutenant. "The general is rather busy at the moment, but if there's anything you need, I can see to it."
"We're fine," Anakin said. "We'll try to stay out of your way."
The XO nodded with restrained relief. "The general would prefer if you not interfere in operations," he added. "Especially if we're engaging the enemy. If you have anything you wish to tell him, please do so through me."
"We will, thank you," Anakin said. The XO nodded and returned to the discussion with his superiors.
"Not the warmest welcome I've had," Laudica remarked.
Anakin half-shrugged. "They're going into a key battle of the war while having to humor three civilians. I've seen worse."
"Then why are we even bothering?" Alema asked. "Let them sort it out if they think they can."
"We're in this together," Anakin said. "If things go wrong, that's when we'll step in."
"And if things go right, I'm sure they'll be real gracious," Laudica said sarcastically.
"I hope you didn't join the Jedi expecting thanks," Anakin said. "If so you're going to be in for a long wait."
The comm sounded, ending the conversation. "All fighter crews to your stations. All fighter crews to your stations." And soon after, the skies over Dantooine were again empty.
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"It was I who first led the Empire to my galaxy," the Oracle continued speaking to the holocron. "In my naiveté I paved the way for their conquest of my people, ensuring their subjugation at their tyrannous hands. For years we held them back, but eventually they came in force, and we were helpless before them." There seemed a black aura around her as she spoke. "I lost all that mattered to me when they came. They had given me the means to return home, but under their heel it lost all appeal for me.
"I considered joining one of the rebel forces that had emerged in my portion of space. In the end, however, it seemed pointless. At our strongest we lacked the means to hold them back; how could we expect to drive them out in our weakness? No, I decided that there was no way to oppose them, at least in this manner.
"Among my people there is a history of temporal disruptions caused by what is known in the vernacular as time travel. I lured a former associate into aiding me for a time, but when she discovered my intent she abandoned me. Her betrayal was indicative of the times; my people were already becoming complacent within the Empire. I attempted to alter the past on two occasions at this time, but neither proved successful. In desperation, I made a decision."
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The Imperial fleet dropped out of hyperspace less than a quarter million miles from Mi-noss. Twenty-one Vong coralships awaited them; less then what General Taar had expected, but perhaps they'd struck faster than the Vong had anticipated. Still... "Launch all fighters," he ordered. "Groups 1 and 2 are to continue to target; all remaining ships, engage the enemy."
Alema stepped to Anakin's side and spoke in a voice only they could hear. "I sense nothing."
"Me neither," Anakin replied. "But maybe the yammosk knows how to avoid us."
"It's not there, is it," Laudica said, not even bothering to phrase it as a question. "It's a trick."
"You don't know that," Anakin said.
"We should feel something-"
"This is exactly what Taar wanted us to avoid," Anakin said. "We don't know anything, we have guesses."
"But if we're right," Laudica said, "then this is probably a trap."
"And if we're wrong," Anakin said, "we risk missing a critical opportunity against the Vong."
"Then I say we-"
"It's not your place to say, padawan," Anakin said sharply. "Nor is it mine." He regretted having to say the words, but they needed to be said. The Jedi had to remain outside the military hierarchy; peace-keepers, not soldiers. He turned away and looked out the front of the bridge towards the battle, hoping they didn't die for that idea. Laudica stepped to his side; he expected a rebuke, but instead he felt her hand slip into his and grip it tightly. It was worse than anything she could have possibly said. She was headstrong and defiant, but she was putting all her trust in Anakin at that moment. The thought of that trust being misplaced was a heavy burden as energy lanced through the void. He squeezed back.
Taar stood at the center of the bridge, eyes flitting back and forth over the displays of the battle and occasionally up to the view outside the bridge. "What's the status of the planet?" he asked. "I'm not getting any reading."
"The Vong are jamming us, sir," the captain said. "We haven't been able to cut through." He looked over the reports coming in. "They've destroyed the crust to seventy percent of the planet, sir. Another minute and they will be finished."
He went back to his silent observations. The Imperials suffered little damage with their huge numerical superiority, although the coralskippers were proving difficult. He watched three move in perfect formation to ram the sensor dome on a star destroyer. He nodded a little to himself. "Captain?"
"They're finished, general," the captain said. "The crust of the planet has been vaporized."
"One hundred percent?"
"Yes sir."
"Alert all commands," Taar called out. "Prepare to retreat."
"Sir?" the captain said in surprise as the comm officer quickly began carrying out the order.
"The yammosk isn't here," Taar said. "It's a trap."
"Sir, we've destroyed-"
"If the yammosk is dead, then who the kriff is flying those ships? We retreat-"
"Sir, indictor torpedoes have just exploded in our area!" came a report from the pit. Taar had already turned to the next officer before the report came in.
"Vong ships coming-"
"How many?" Taar demanded quickly.
"We're still counting sir... hundreds, and they're launching coralskippers. They've cut off our retreat."
Taar looked from the screens to the approaching Vong fleet. "Seven hundred, at least, probably a lot more. All right, let's show these Vong how dangerous something trapped in a corner can be."
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Fortunately Kalib's recovery was measured in human rather than stellar time and eventually he left the loving embrace of the soil for the interior of the alliance base. His appetite seemed to return as well as he made up for lost time. Han and Kilana sat with him, but neither ate. It wasn't that Kalib was disgusting when he ate, it was rather because watching him eat was akin to seeing a man roll across a tightrope on a unicycle while holding a piano, it kept your interest.
"After Skywalker and his kid got away the Vong managed to overpower me, knock me out," Kalib explained while he continued his meal. "The Vong kept looking me over, trying to unravel my DNA or something, but they were having a tough go of it. My people are pretty hearty."
"So we've noticed," Han said. "It's a wonder they didn't try to brainwash you; they seemed to try with everyone else."
"Who says they didn't?" Kalib said, drinking half a liter of milk in one go. "But after a few centuries, your demons tend to come out and start straightening out the furniture and all that. There's nothing the Vong showed me I didn't make peace with a long time ago or frankly just don't give a damn about."
"Didn't you try to escape?" Kilana asked. "I'd imagine it'd be very hard to keep you prisoner."
"Escaped a few times," Kalib said. "But, problem is, flapping my arms isn't going to get me off an isolated planet is it? They'd find me and come up with some way to lock me up again, and then the cycle would repeat itself. I would kill for some kfalla sauce with this," he added. "Tastes like rubber-coated ceramic. Anyway, eventually they tried a stasis field, only, like I said, the physiology is pretty hardy, so eventually I could shake it off. I guess the carbon-freeze was their last bet."
"Why not just kill you?" Han asked. Kalib gave him a look, but Han stood his ground. "It's just a question. You have an answer?"
"Killing me is kind of hard," Kalib said. "And the Vong are into the whole genetic thing, kind of like that Species 8472 mob."
"Still-" Han began, but the alert sounded. The three looked at each other as a flurry of activity broke out across the base, then ran for the command center. "What's happening?" he asked. Han had a natural tone of command that had only improved with age. The answer was quick, if not particularly welcome.
"[The Vong have just entered the system.]"
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The initial volley of interdictor torpedoes ensured the Imperial fleet would be stuck for four minutes, more than enough time for the Vong gravity ships to move in and extend it indefinitely. The Vong biotechnology operated differently than the Imperial version, which did not have the same vulnerability to DIT's. An Imperial counter-weapon had not been developed because other Vong technology had been a greater priority. Fighting to the edge to escape was the only option, and that didn't look like it would work either, what with the Empire outnumbered three to one.
"Is there anything we can do?" Laudica asked Anakin.
"Let them do their job," Anakin said.
"I'd rather do something more constructive," Laudica replied.
"Yes," Alema added. "I'm not going to just wait for the Vong to destroy us-"
Quiet! Anakin thought so sharply it cut their thoughts off as suddenly as a shout. They can hear you, he thought, indicating the men and women around the bridge. If they see us despair, what do you think will happen to their courage?
Laudica tried to respond in kind, but she lacked the training. She leaned in very close and spoke so quietly Anakin could barely hear it. "We could take our shuttle, make a run for it. With our Jedi reflexes we could make it."
We'll not abandon these people, Anakin thought.
"We won't do any good to anyone dying here," Laudica pointed out.
"We should find some fighters," Alema said. "At least we'd have a way to fight back."
"No fighter is going to take down those coralships," Laudica said. "It would be futile."
"I would rather die trying," Alema said.
"I'd rather not," Laudica said.
Enough! We stay and wait, that is my decision. Anakin waited as the two grudgingly accepted it, then turned back to the view beyond the window. It didn't fill him with much confidence in his Imperial allies.
Unconcerned with the details of the Jedi debate, Taar examined a holographic representation of the battle occurring outside the window. His initial instructions were being carried out by the groups that made up the fleet. He didn't micromanage them; the captains of these ships were those Taar had felt were capable, so second-guessing their command abilities was counter-productive. He looked for openings to exploit, but with the sheer numeric disadvantage there wasn't anything new. The bridge shook as coralships bombarded them, but Taar's attention stayed focused. He saw the three of them around the shape of the Defiance. It was clean and sterile here... a paper battle for a paper general. He turned and looked out the front of the ship; the Vong coralship was there, bombarding the Defiance's shields enough so they could deploy their insects and tear it apart from the inside. His crew was ready for it, but it was a big ship... lots of places for the bugs to reek havoc before they were eliminated.
Taar blinked in surprise as the coralship shuddered under sudden impact, then exploded. A ship quickly flew through the debris, in sight for only a moment, but- "Captain, tell me I didn't just see that."
"It's - It looks like the Borg, general," the Defiance's captain said. "They've engaged the Vong."
"Of course they have," Taar said with defeat in his voice. "They want us to themselves. I knew they'd turn on us."
"The Borg are hailing us, sir," the comm officer said.
"Save it," Taar said. "I've heard it enough for a lifetime."
"It's not their standard hail, general. They seem-"
"I gave my order," Taar snapped. "I'm not sure how many of them we can destroy, but I'm not planning on joining their collective."
The captain hesitated. "General, I think they're here to help."
"Help themselves to us," Taar said. "I think it's pretty clear now who set up this trap." He shook his head. "They'll assimilate us, and use that knowledge to tear down the Empire. Between them and the Vong, they could do it."
"Respectfully, general, the Vong and the Borg are the least likely allies in the universe," the captain said.
"I fought the Borg for years," Taar said with a voice full of rebuke. "I'd put nothing past them."
"Respectfully, sir, I've fought the Vong for years, and they would rather be defeated then partner themselves with the Borg. Besides, those are Vong ships they are destroying."
"It's all part of their plan," Taar said. "They always have an angle, always have some way of lowering your defenses and stealing away your individuality-"
"General," the captain said, "if those were Alliance ships, or the Klingons, or even the Kazon, we'd welcome this as potential salvation."
"But they're not!" Taar shouted. "They're the Borg, and the Borg don't change!" He seemed on the verge of screaming. "They're evil, captain, don't you understand; not that they do evil things but that they are evil itself, evil in physical form! You can't even kill them for good! How can you see salvation in those dead eyes, in those harbingers of doom out there?!" He looked wild-eyed through the window as the cubes joined in the battle against the Vong. "You can't let down your defenses, captain, not for a second. This is it, don't you see? They've been waiting for me, waiting for me to grow old and sentimental, waiting for me to slip up just once so they could finally- No! We're not going to be taken in by this."
"General," Anakin said, stepping forward. "I must tell you-"
"Stay out of this!" Taar said. "This is not your concern."
"General," Anakin continued. "I must tell you that there is no duplicity in the Borg's thoughts."
"You can read their mind?" Taar said incredulously.
"No, but with all those minds thinking as one it's easy to sense their motivation. They're here to help us, general, of that I'm certain."
Taar was about to shout, then froze, and nodded slowly. "You're in this with them too, aren't you. I should have known..."
"General," the captain whispered in his ear, "I suggest we let him try."
"Are you blind, man?! Can't you see-"
"Sir, respectfully," -and it was clear by now that the word had come to mean, in the captain's mouth, as being "you twit"- "your fleet will mutiny if you try to get them to turn against the Borg."
"How can you even think about trusting them?!"
"Because, sir, without them we will fall, and I doubt the Empire will be able to recover. The Borg offer uncertainty, but it is better than the certainty of failure."
While Taar and the captain hashed it out, Anakin returned to the apprentices. "I thought we were staying out of it," Laudica asked.
"Rules are made to be broken," Alema said.
"No, rules are made so that you don't break them unless you don't have any choice," Anakin said.
"I hope you're sure about what you're sensing," Laudica said.
"Yes," Anakin said, but there's was something in the word only someone intimately familiar with him could catch, and she did.
"You lied?"
"I stated what I think is the truth," Anakin said. "I just surrounded it with some lies for believability."
"Is there a rule about that too?"
"Yes," Anakin said. "Hopefully I'm right so I can tell you about it.
“Alert all commands,” Taar finally said, “do not fire on the Borg unless fired upon. I hope you are right, Jedi.”
“You have nothing to fear, general,” Anakin said. I hope.
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"At this time I had exhausted my supply of equipment and credits," the Oracle continued. "I needed support to continue my research, someone who could see why my work would be so crucial without the risk of betrayal. The only choice was Elim Garak, a small-minded Cardassian, but one who had as much reason as I to hate the Empire because of the destruction of his world. Through a complex process, I was able to prove myself to him by supplying him with information. Assuring him this would only be the beginning, he gave me the materials I asked for to build more powerful equipment, and again I tried altering the past. And yet, my every path was blocked; not once could I succeed in even the smallest way of preventing the conquest by the Empire. I could find no reason for this, short of interference by some outside force. I suspected Q for a time, but this did not lead anywhere.
"Finally, after consideration, I remembered the existence of the energy field known as the Force. I began to study it, to learn if it was possible this was the cause of interference, and if there would be a way to avoid it. However, something came of my studies I did not expect: the realization that the Force is interlinked with time. Having reached a dead end in my own work, I realized that this might be the path to finally ridding myself of the Empire."
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The tactical cube was the result of the Borg's war with Species 8472. It was, by and large, a concession on the part of the collective. The Borg were not a military power; their ships were designed to grab and assimilate, not to wage war. For every other species in the galaxy this didn't seem much of a distinction, but with Species 8472 they learned there were some threats that, if unchecked, would destroy them. In such instances, brute force was the only solution, and thus the tactical cube was conceived. It was a ship of war, and now that war was upon them, the Borg used them. Many had been built when they had fought the Empire decades ago, and their hearty design allowed them to survive adrift more easily then their less robust counterparts. Most of the fleet, then, consisted of these powerful ships.
Saying General Taar loathed the Borg would be unfair, the reason being that left no word to describe how the Vong felt about them. Taar saw them as a pet peeve compared to the Vong. Upon their arrival the Imperials were practically forgotten as the coralships and skippers turned their full attention to their antithesis. One of the standard cubes slipped into the heat of battle and was quickly bombarded by the Vong forces. It exploded in less than a minute, causing mild panic in Romal. "Oh kriff oh kriff oh kriff oh kriff..."
"Adjusting shield geometry to compensate," the Queen said. "Increasing power to EM fields."
"Yes yes, increase power," Romal muttered in fear. "Adapt. In the name of all that is holy, adapt!"
"We will handle the tactical matters, Romal the Attorney," the Queen said. "You will handle diplomacy."
"Yes yes, fine, just adapt, please!"
"Closing distance to two thousand kilometers," Sebastian said.
"No no, no closing!" The Borg ignored him; they were quite good at that.
"I am.... conflicted upon this tactic," the Queen said. "Your distinctiveness is unique. Its loss would make us less complete."
"Yet that uniqueness can serve us here," Sebastian said.
"The plan is sound..." The Queen was visibly conflicted. "Be efficient."
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General Taar continued examining the hologram and the real universe it represented. "They do seem to have the Vong's attention," he admitted. "Alert all commands; we reform our battle lines here, here, and here," he indicated on the hologram. "Then we squeeze."
While coralskippers and assorted fighters exchanged fire, the star destroyers formed a series of walls, leaving the Vong trapped in a crossfire with the Empire on one side and the huge Borg fleet on the other. Turbolasers blasted chunks out of their surface while heavy energy beams cut through the coral armor like a scalpel. The Vong energy weapons were still getting through the Borg defenses, but the damage was minor by comparison. Their insect-filled torpedoes, however, were causing greater difficulty, since they were able to bypass the shields that filled their corridors by digging through surrounding paneling. Commander Imal instructed his troops to use those whenever possible.
Not long after he gave the order the coralship shook under an impact, causing the crew on the bridge to stumble for a moment. As they did, lights appeared in the back of the room; they turned and noted with disgust the arrivals: humanoids, and worse, humanoids who polluted their bodies with machinery. Four Vong quickly moved to slaughter them.
Sebastian stood amongst the Borg drones; their eyes assessed the faces of their opponents, seeking out the one of highest rank. He was quickly spotted, and the Borg moved into action. Vong blows rained down on them, killing them quickly as they moved towards the target. The commander took out his own weapon now, let out a cry, and swung it at Sebastian.
A blue energy blade emerged from the Borg's left wrist, catching the blow as his right reached out and grabbed his target. The two vanished, as did the drones, living and dead. The Vong looked puzzled for a moment, then got back down to the business of the battle.
The Vong commander knocked Sebastian aside and swung his staff wildly to hold the Borg at bay. He would kill anyone who got too close, that much was certain. However, here, in the most abominable enemy the Vong had ever faced, they found their equal. Not in terms of fighting, of course; their technique lacked any combat prowess. No, their true advantage was that, just like the Vong, the Borg feared nothing. They swarmed over him as his staff tore flesh and shattered metal, killing four and severely injuring another six, but the staff was wrenched from him, and the Borg more than made up for their anemic hand-to-hand techniques with brute strength and sheer numbers. "I will tell you nothing!" he cried with a defiant laugh as they strapped him down onto the table. "No pain can break me! Whoever you are, you're wasting your time, haha!"
Sebastian stood over him at the table. "We are the Borg, and you will be assimilated. Your thoughts will now service us." His assimilation tubules punctured the commander's neck. He yanked them free, and the commander began to twitch, then seize.
"I - will not - talk!" he said through his teeth.
"Talk is irrelevant," Sebastian informed him. "Resistance is futile. Your existence, as it has been, is over. From this time forward you will service us."
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The Queen observed the battle, both through her senses and through the voices of the collective. She paused for a few seconds, then hailed the Defiance. The annoyed expression of General Taar greeted her. "What's so damn important?" he demanded.
"The yammosk is not on Mi-noss," the Queen informed him.
"Yes, thanks, we figured that one out a long time ago."
"It has been moved to Barhis III," the Queen said.
Taar eyed her suspiciously. "How do you know that?"
"The knowledge and experience of the Vong -Kor Imal- is part of us now." The remark did not have the expected reaction. Instead Taar looked very angry and the transmission was terminated. The Queen dismissed it as the irrationality of humans and returned to the battle. Soon the Defiance hailed them.
"I don't trust you an inch," Taar said sharply. "Let's be clear on that."
"We are aware of that," the Queen said.
"Why should I listen to you?" he demanded. "Tell me why I should follow the Borg anywhere?"
Romal stepped forward. "Do you think the Borg came to your aid here only to lead you into a second trap?"
"That's not what I asked," Taar shot back. "Why should I even be talking to you after all you've done?"
"Because we are in this with you, general," the Queen said. "If you are destroyed, we will be as well. In any event, you are the leader of the Empire. It is we who will follow you."
"I don't buy it," Taar said. "Besides, you may need us, but we don't need you."
"We lost our first invasion of Earth," the Queen said, "because of the unforeseen. Every scenario showed that victory was assured, and yet we lost. We failed to consider there was some factor outside our calculations that could overcome us. It was our fatal flaw." Taar showed slight confusion at the comment. "You taught that to your students, yes? The question, general, is how certain are you that you can destroy the Vong without us?"
Taar cut the transmission. Romal whistled thoughtfully as he shook his head. "I don't think he liked hearing that," he commented.
"His mood is irrelevant," the Queen said. "It is only how he acts upon the information that matters."
"When this is over," Romal said, "we need to start work on another item called 'customer relations.'"
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The first Vong ships hit the rebel hangars, destroying or collapsing them before they could get off the planet. Then there was silence. "What's happening?" Han asked, "why'd they stop firing." He'd been in hundreds of battles and he knew the cessation of fire, a normally welcome sound, was often the precursor to even worse news.
"They've got us trapped," Kalib said. "They're gonna come down and fight face to face... that's their thing, see? They've got us all caged up; they can wipe us out if they lose, so why not have a chance to enjoy the thrill of battle?"
"So we're seeing how many of them we take with us?" Han asked as he pulled out his blaster with a half-shrug. "Not a problem."
"Um, yes, I have a problem," Kilana said. "The cloning tanks are shut down; if they kill me then that's the end."
Han and Kalib looked at her, then each other, then back at her. "You do know that's what death is," Han said, "right?"
"Well... yeah," Kilana said. "But I'm a Vorta... death is something that happens to other people."
"I've always said that," Kalib said with a nod.
"Well if we're going to die, then what's the point?" Kilana asked. "Why bother 'taking them with us?' It won't make any difference for us."
"Look kid," Han said, "this isn't the time. If by some miracle we don't die I'll answer your question, and if I don't, then it won't make any difference, right? I'm not one for philosophy."
"Speaking of philosophy," Kalib said, "anyone have a large object I can beat someone with?"
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"The teachings I began reading were those of the Jedi," the Oracle said. "I spent much time trying to understand their perspectives, but they were frustrating in their approach. They feared their power, and they made little effort to push the limits of what they could do to time. Likewise they seemed to offer no way of opposing the Empire; my antagonism was not in agreement with their way.
"I recalled an event I witnessed once involving the Jedi Skywalker. In his darkness I saw him obliterate two Borg ships with merely his will; later he did this to an entire fleet. If the so-called 'dark side' could provide this kind of a weapon, then perhaps it also had the answers I sought.
"By this time my mastery of time manipulation allowed me to seek out knowledge long since lost in the distant past. In my studies I came across the Sith process they called Alchemy. Through it I found treatments that could be used to augment myself so that I could begin to feel the touch of the Force. Over time I augmented those abilities through alchemical treatments. Through study I learned how to use my Force meditations to see the future, and in time I was able to accomplish this without meditation, but through alchemical stimulation. And from this I saw that the future was not immutable, that I could change it, herd it in my direction towards my outcome.
“I foresaw the arrival of the Vong, a hopelessly outmatched collection of barbarians. They would be quickly and quietly wiped out, a footnote in the annals of the Empire. But I saw in them a force I could use against the Empire, if I could properly control them."
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Cubes had a decentralized structure, so Sebastian merely left the assimilation chamber to join in the coordination of the battle. The Vong's mind had been quickly dissected and his information disseminated throughout the collective. They considered their move carefully.
"We will assist the rebels in their defense," Sebastian said to the Queen through their link.
"Our thoughts are one," the Queen said in agreement. "Sixty-seven vessels will suffice."
"We concur," Sebastian said. "This one will accompany; the survival of this one's knowledge will be important if unforeseen factors are encountered."
"The remainder will proceed to Barhis III," the Queen said. "It would be beneficial if Taar recognized the wisdom of this." It was as close as a Borg could get to hope.
Without another comment on the subject, Sebastian and the ships designated to his fleet slipped out of the battle and raced to the edge of the interdiction zone. As soon as they were clear they slipped into hyperspace and were gone.
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"To think that it could come to this," Taar said just above a whisper. "That we have to rely on the Borg against our enemies."
"I'd imagine the Borg are wondering the same thing, general," the captain remarked. "That they must rely on us for their survival."
"If they were inclined towards introspection," Taar said. "Which they're not." He was quiet for some time. "'The knowledge and experience...'" he said quietly. "They now know everything about the Vong, at least as much as a high-ranking officer could know. It's reprehensible... but it could save countless lives on our side."
"They are Imperial citizens," the captain pointed out. "In a way, they're a bit like Borda and his rebels... just doing their point to preserve the Empire."
Is this how it started for Thrawn? Taar wondered. Turning your enemy against even worse ones? The Borg could be such a powerful tool... No! Look where that led him! He was ready to betray them all to the Borg at the end.
"General," the captain said, "the Vong ships are withdrawing. Shall we pursue?"
Taar looked up at what was in all likelihood the largest Borg fleet assembled in a millennia. "We will follow," the Queen had said. Taar had the entire Imperial war machine under his command, and yet, the thought of having that fleet under his control made him heady. It was as if he'd tamed evil itself like a great beast and could now ride it against his enemies. But it was hard to suppress three decades worth of nightmares.
"Hail the Borg," Taar said.
"Which ship, sir?" the comm officer asked.
"It's the Borg, you twit, it doesn't matter." Taar waited until the display showed the Queen and the Devaronian again. "You say you're a corporation?" Taar asked.
"A limited liability company," the Queen replied.
"Close enough. In keeping with the terms of your license I'm conscripting your defensive forces in the defense of the Empire."
"The law requires compensation for any lost property or personnel-" the lawyer began.
"Yes, yes, of course. It also requires a corporate officer be present with the military commander for the course of the conflict, which means you, ma'am."
"I see," the Queen said. "So that you might keep an eye on me?"
"Let's just say I'd feel less uncomfortable about this situation if you were within strangling distance."
The Queen nodded. A few seconds later she and Romal materialized on the Defiance's bridge. "My attorney insisted on accompanying me," she said to Taar.
"Purely to provide counsel, I assure you," Romal added. "The fact that you are heavily armed, thickly armored, and massively shielded never crossed my mind."
"Of course," Taar said dismissively. He tried reading the Borg Queen, but it was impossible. She seemed like she'd cooperate, but you could never really tell. "I take it you can relay my orders without me having to contact your ships."
"Affirmative," the Queen said. "What are your orders, general."
"Barhis III," Taar said. "And don't spare the nanoprobes."
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"Aiding the Vong struggle would be the key to my plans of crushing the Empire," the Oracle said to the darkness. "But despite how far I had come, I knew that my skills were feeble at best. What would be necessary for this task would require far more training then I could acquire in old books and recordings... I would need to learn from the masters themselves. And that was exactly what I did.
"My temporal displacement technology allowed me to travel to the distant past to the high points of Sith knowledge. I soon discovered what I had thought was mastery of Sith Alchemy proved to barely scratch the surface. I also explored the arts of the so-called Sith Sourcery. This became important, because the training in these techniques required many years. Time, my servant, now attempted to betray me through the feebleness of old age. However, I learned means to draw on the life forces of others to hold on to my health, to keep me alive and strong to continue my work. Many perished, but I offer no regrets; my work is far too important to entrust to another. Destroying the Empire is more important than those lives lost.
"I learned the ways of Naga Sadow, Exar Kun, Freedon Nod, and Darth Bane. I am sure all could sense my motives in being their pupil, but since my aspirations were for times and places beyond their reach, they no doubt felt me no threat. Corran Baj, however, tried to take my time control technology away by force, and I had to kill him because of it. History was left untouched, as it always was, although I will confess the feeling of power at besting an ancient Sith was quite intoxicating. The feeling of power only fueled my drive for Sith knowledge, and made me realize that what I truly needed to do was not merely stop the Sith, but conquer the territory in its name. The Empire coddled the Jedi with their weak and useless philosophies instead of embracing the ways of the Sith. Its Emperor was a faker, striving for a cause that only further advanced weakness. Thus, my plan changed slightly, to elevate the Vong and drag down the Empire that the two might annihilate one another."
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Barhis III was one of the numerous mining colonies throughout the galaxy; a minor settlement to say the least. In keeping with Vong strategy, the populace had been gathered together as a human shield should the Empire choose to attack. In case that failed, there was a more direct back-up.
"Planetary shield," the Queen informed General Taar. "Single projector, small range. The yammosk is located in the city."
"Defenses?" Taar asked.
"Barhis III is a staging area for moving troops to the front lines. They have numerous ground forces to resist an assault. But the shield is far too strong to penetrate even with all our ships together."
Taar turned to Anakin. "That 'just in case' you talked about? It's here."
"We can take care of the yammosk, general," Anakin said. "But getting from here to there isn't going to be easy. We're going to need help."
Taar nodded. "You'll get it."
"We will assist you," the Queen said.
"Thanks, but I'd like to reach the city some time before the end of time," Taar said. "You people aren't known for speed."
"Yes," the Queen said. "But we have adapted. And the soldiers down there will know more about the planet than we do."
Taar shuddered at the thought. "I don't like this," he said.
"The Borg are only offering to do this to help us win, general," Romal said. "There's no ulterior motive."
"I'd like to believe that," Taar said. Surprisingly, there was no malice to it.
"Trust has to start somewhere, general," Anakin said. "And the more the Borg can tell us about what's down there, the greater our chances of stopping the Vong."
"I know I know," Taar said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ready your... whatevers," Taar said. "Captain, alert all commands, we're establishing a camp at," he quickly examined the holographic projection of the planet, then "touched" a spot, causing it to light up, "these coordinates. I want all our ground forces prepped and ready."
"Yes, general," the captain said.
"And you, Jedi," Taar said, turning to Anakin, "good luck."
"Thank you, general," Anakin said, and with his two apprentices, left the bridge.
Romal, noting he and the Queen had been forgotten for the moment, lowered his voice. "You know, we haven't actually field tested these new droids."
"The prototypes functioned properly," the Queen said.
"Yes, but they still are untested," Romal said nervously. "You didn't tell them that!"
"We do not think the general would approve of such information," the Queen said.
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"I am master of time," the Oracle announced. "And yet, even I do not have an infinite supply of it. I could not both lay my plans and carry out the work necessary when it was required. An apprentice was needed, but I had even less time to train up a follower. Using my technology I scoured adjacent universes, seeking out one to carry out my will, and I found him. Capable enough, but an arrogant fool that I knew could be easily deceived. His anger was great, so it was easy to use the Force to give him subtle nudges this way and that. While I attended to the collapse of the Empire, he killed my enemies, trained my students, delivered my messages. Were he a true Sith, one schooled in the ways of the ancients he wishes to emulate, he should have seen through me long before I revealed myself to him. He is an example for you, one who thinks himself strong because he is quick with a saber and skilled in a fight. However, he is weak in spirit, easily coerced and blind to what goes on about him. No thought for how to make the future beyond the obvious. But I say to you, you who bear this holocron, that you do not seize power, you develop through diligence.
"And that is how I topple the Empire."
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The All-Terrain Heavy Transport was the latest design in Imperial ground weaponry. Like its predecessor, the AT-HT was a troop transport by design, slow but heavily armored. The legs were thicker and more flexible, giving it a greater stability and able to get around the old tow-cable trick. In addition, a group of manned gunnery pods were located at eight points around the body of the walker to help resist aerial forces and eliminate targets of opportunity. Alongside the AT-HT's were the mobile artillery units, treaded to allow it to pass through semi-permeable shields. It was essentially a treaded box, twelve meters long and five high, with a laser cannon on top. Flanking the two craft were smaller and more maneuverable speeders, tanks, and support craft. Laudica whistled as her eyes drifted over the vast army. "This'll make the Vong think twice," she said to no one in particular.
"The Vong will enjoy the challenge," Alema said darkly. "Brutality is their native language."
"Let's stay focused," Anakin said. "The Empire is handling the ground battle; we've got to worry about getting inside."
The trio’s gaze gradually drifted to the edge of the camp, where the Borg were setting up field equipment, most of which made a torture chamber look like a feng shui catalog. "I'm starting to see Taar's point of view," Laudica confessed.
"Just keep reminding yourself they're on our side," Anakin said, although he seemed a bit uncertain himself.
"This doesn't feel right, Anakin," Laudica said. "The Vong are bad guys, sure, but can we let the Borg do this to them?"
"I suppose it's better than killing them," Anakin said.
"It's redemption," Alema said. "For all the lives they've destroyed, they can now do something to help make that right."
"I guess I'm the only one who can't rally behind this," Laudica said irritably. But before anyone could respond, the Borg's army arrived, and all thoughts were put on hold as the ranks materialized. "What in the kriff are those?" she asked slowly, mesmerized.
"They’re not Borg," Anakin said with a slight shake of his head. "Battle droids. Lots and lots of battle droids."
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A quick inventory of the rebel base's armory provided nothing for Kalib, save for four Gamorrean axes, which he dismissed as too impractical. "Too small to wield, too big to throw." Someone scrounged up a medium repeating blaster rifle and quickly cut off the trigger guard to accommodate Kalib's huge hands, and a handle was attached to a fusion generator for him to power it, meaning that Kalib technically qualified as mobile artillery. However, as the Vong ships began landing, it was clear that was likely not going to be enough.
Han took the lead, positioning the rebel forces around the base with a practiced eye. He kept Kilana close by. "How good are you with a blaster?" he asked.
"Proficient," she said.
"The weak spots are the neck and the seams of the armor," Han said. "Are you good enough to pick those off on a moving target?"
"No," she admitted. "But I do have one trick to use."
Han nodded; he knew what she meant. "That could come in handy, if you can do it from cover."
"No problem," she said. Then the air exploded from a group of thud bugs, and the two ducked for cover.
"Good, I don't like problems," Han said, turning and firing a few shots from his blaster. A Vong went down, then Han ducked back. "Not good for your health."
Kilana wasn't listening. She was focused, and a ball of white energy rose out of her chest, flew across the field, and knocked a Vong over. Han shot him while he was prone, then turned and put three shots on another approaching warrior before that one went down as well.
In the meantime, Kalib stood out in the middle of things, having never quite grasped the need for cover. Apparently projectile weaponry wasn't part of his forte, probably because hand weapons were too small for him. The shots struck wildly among the Vong, but there were so many of them and so many bolts flying around that it was inevitable that the two should meet. However, the accidental shots weren't doing much to slow them down, and Han was beginning to wonder if the rebels were even going to be able to put up much of a fight.
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It had been a long time ago, when Vader sat near a fire and told his grandson the tale of the Clone Wars. Man versus machine... the cold unemotional logic of the droids versus the adaptive, creative passions of humanity. The droids, however, were also held back by their masters, who feared the army turning against them. Droid control computers were an Achilles’ heel, not to mention the limitations it placed on tactical responses to the army as both individuals and as a larger unit. Vader had planted the seed in that telling. What the droid army needed, really needed, was a computer capable of overseeing massive numbers of individuals, of being both coldly logically and highly adaptive, which did not fear their creation, which could bring together the natural and the artificial in a constant strive for perfection. They needed the thoughts of the droids and the computer to be one.
Sebastian had lifted the designs from ISB records. The design patent had expired long before he was born, so there was nothing to stop the Borg from building on Dooku's failed revolt. At the forefront of the Borg line rolled thousands of destroyer droids. They operated like pawns on a chessboard, alternating movement with their neighbor by rolling to the advance position, then letting loose with their twin cannons against any Vong forces in their way while those on either side advanced and did the same. The Vong's armor was somewhat resistant to blaster fire, but the sustained attacks and sheer ferocity forced them back.
Racing up the destroyer droid ranks came a series of battle droids on swoops, two to a bike. They were of the sturdier design, so that when two swoops converged on a Vong warrior the passengers would disembark and tackle him. Between the two of them one would manage to avoid the furious strikes long enough to inject its assimilation tubules into some weak point in the armor. Sometimes both droids would be destroyed, but the nanoprobes did their work, and back at the camp the Borg would lock on to the new signal with a transporter and beam the writhing Vong to them. Within a minute, the process would be complete, and a new drone admitted to the collective. It was, however, proving a costly venture.
The Imperial forces continued on, either oblivious to or conveniently ignoring the actions of their recent allies. The mobile artillery and AT-HT's softened up the targets that stood between them and the city, usually a Vong blockade of some kind. The Vong responded with their various weaponry. Projectiles as hard as diamond and sharp enough to make a razor look like a rolling pin slashed into their armor. The great machines collapsed or exploded under their onslaught, but more came up to take their place and rain laser fire down on the Vong.
The Vong infantry had disappeared from before the destroyer droid line. The droids rolled over the hill and pushed on towards the next. Waiting for them, however, were the Fan'cals. They were huge, lumbering beasts, with a body like a squat brachiosaur, covered in armored scales. It had a head and neck like a flatworm, and a tail twice the length of its body but thin and mobile like a whip. As soon as the droids came into view the Fan'cals opened their wide mouths and sprayed incandescent fire across the line. The ground popped and hissed in the wake of the attack as the ceramic surface cooled, molten metals pooled across its surface. The droids opened fire, but the skin of the Fan'cals was even thicker than the Vong armor. A second blast of white-hot flame ran across the line, and the destroyer droids withdrew. However, waiting behind them was a huge collection of Vong warriors, who had circled around to catch the retreating droids. The Vong’s excitement quickly turned to frustration as they discovered that, in fact, the droid withdrawal had pushed the Vong into a crossfire with a second destroyer droid force that also cut off their retreat. Their staffs sliced through the droids lines, but the firepower decimated their forces with every apparent advance.
The Fan'cals were quickly dispersed by a few well-placed shots from the mobile artillery, but even the Empire's heavy vehicles were having difficulty against the war beasts. Two Fan'cals, working together, lashed onto an AT-HT with their tails and pulled its legs out, sending it toppling over with a ground-shaking crash. As the stormtroopers exited the prone vehicle a group of Vong cavalry riding Kyar-beasts overwhelmed them and killed most before they could even draw their weapons. Elsewhere, crews perished in their craft as their interiors turned into ovens under the Fan'cals breath.
General Taar watched the events from the bridge of the Defiance. "It's amazing what they can do with biotechnology," he said. "That they can actually stand up to our forces..."
"It is impressive," the Queen agreed. "But ultimately limiting. The Fan'cals, for example, have nearly exhausted their supply of fuel, and it will take many hours for them to replenish enough for even another bout of flame."
"Like a pet playing a musical instrument," Romal observed. "It's not that it does it well, it's the fact it can do it at all."
"Yes, but the Vong know of the weakness, and they expect we'll see it too." The Queen pointed along the map. "They'll withdraw this direction, expecting you to follow. It's a trap; there are mines, pits, hidden weapon emplacements. You'll need to alert your forces, general."
Taar's eyes darted between the map and Queen for a few seconds. "Are you sure?"
"We are Borg."
"That's a yes," Romal explained. "It's a cultural thing."
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The rebel forces had been forced to fall back before the ferocity of the Vong onslaught. Only Kalib had stood his ground and was currently using the remains of his rifle as a blunt object against the Vong that swarmed around him. Kilana crouched, panting next to Han, eyes screwed tightly shut as another white energy ball emerged from her body and struck an approaching Vong soldier. Blood ran from one nostril but she didn't seem to notice. Han would have stopped her for her health if he wasn't certain that her long-term health was unlikely to be an issue. We go down fighting, he'd said, and she seemed intent to follow through on it.
There was a high-pitched whistle followed by a green flash, and the Vong before them exploded. Han paused a moment in his attack, but only a moment because stopping could get you killed. Another bomb fell out of nowhere, blowing up the advancing Vong lines. Now he peered up at the sky and could make out the distant sight of weapons fire. "Looks like Borda's people heard about our little problem,” he remarked, then reached out and caught Kalina before she hit the ground. Her eyes were rolled up into their sockets. He looked between her and the Vong forces, then threw her arm over his shoulder and dragged her out of harm's way. He glanced back, and most of the Vong were gone, apparently returning to their ships. At the sound of falling rocks, however, Han whipped out his blaster and pointed in the direction. A hand emerged from a crater, followed by a second, and then Kalib's face rose into view like a very angry moon. He was swearing in several languages at once.
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In orbit, Sebastian observed the Borg attack on the Vong ships. They had more than a four to one advantage, which was only increasing. The Vong tactics were standard and thus predictable; the Borg adapted quickly. It didn't take long before the last ship was a burning hulk dropping over the planet. Long-range scans showed no sign of reinforcements, but the collective judged it prudent to wait to ensure the survivors might be able to escape. His task, however, was complete, and Sebastian stepped into his alcove and began to regenerate.
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She screamed. Those two small words contained more than whole volumes could express. It was not primal, although the intensity could imply it. It carried much more than fear or anger could accomplish. Every howl of a human in unbearable pain, every roar of defiance at the uncaring stars, every cry by a woman in the throes of labor, every wail of lament at an untimely loss, every outrcy of rage at justice denied, every screech of terror before sharp jaws descended was contained within it, and yet it was so much more. It was the spectrum of human passions, greater than the sum of its parts. It shook the minds of Force-sensitive beings within a hundred light-years. It skipped up and down the length of the Oracle's lifetime, causing sometimes overwhelming sensations of dread and regret. But in the scream, a part of herself lashed out and embedded itself within the newly-formed pyramid that hovered before her.
Just as swiftly as it came, it left her bent forward and panting. Her eyes shone like twin stars, casting dancing shadows across the room. Her breathing steadied and her form returned more towards normalcy, although there was still a hint of something about her face in the low glow. She reached out and took the holocron with both hands and gently laid it on the floor before her. Her hands passed over it in an unreadable dance while her lips moved soundlessly. "Commencement," she said finally. "This is the account of the Oracle, master of the Sith and keeper of its lore. I give unto you my power and wisdom." Her white hair was picked up by the breeze that now circled the room, but she ignored it. "I tell you now my tale."
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Things were quiet on Wormhole Station. This was not due to a lack of activity; it was the result of a great flurry of activity that now led to a quiet, intense anticipation. Tension was high at the control center where the station commander and his senior staff waited to face whatever happened in the next minute.
One thousand Borg Cubes dropped out of hyperspace. Words can't do justice to the kind of bowel-loosening terror this sight can create. The Borg were citizens of the Empire, of course, but then, seeing a mob of citizens armed with pitchforks and torches does little for one's thoughts of peace and tranquility.
"Sir," the comm officer said, "they've hailed us." He looked quite pale, and his skin seemed to have a shimmer from the sweat. "They want permission to pass through the Wormhole."
That, of course, could mean anything. They could be going about their business, of course, but then, what business would that many warships have anywhere that didn't involve bad news for someone. On the other hand, their presence here was bad news enough for the commander, and he firmly believed in the pass-along theory of misery. Besides, after the mess the Sith made of his station, the commander was feeling less sure of his crew’s ability to deal with serious threats, and when it came to seriousness, well, Borg weren't known for being jolly. "Let them through," he said, his throat dry.
The fleet swept around the station into the wormhole. It took a long time, and the bridge crew sat on edge as they passed. As the last cube exited, an object was beamed onto the bridge, causing brief pandemonium until it was revealed to be a brochure. The words "Savings Not To Be Resisted" was printed boldly across the top. The crew hid behind a barrier while a droid disposed of it.
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Romal paced as he wrung his hands. "I've changed my mind," he said. "Send me back."
"It is too late," Sebastian said. At the moment, two drones were making modifications to his cybernetics by attaching devices at the outside wrists.
"It's never too late to turn back!" Romal said. "I've known people who have based their careers on it."
"There is no time," the Queen said. "We are already traveling at maximum velocity to attempt to catch up with the Imperial fleet. We cannot stop now."
"I'm not a soldier!" Romal protested.
"Neither are we," the Queen replied.
"You know what I mean," Romal said darkly. "I'm no good in a battle!"
"You are a negotiator," Sebastian said. "We have no skill in negotiation. You must comply."
"'You must comply,'" Romal said with sarcasm. "Why do I bother? I have had more attempts on my life since signing on with you then I ever had in my previous practice."
"No, you have not." Romal turned to Sebastian. "You had seven attempts on your life previously. And at those times the Borg were not there to protect you."
Romal stopped in mid-retort. "Okay, you've got a point there. But really, what good am I going to be to you here? The Vong don't know the meaning of diplomacy."
"Negotiation with the Vong is futile," the Queen said. "But negotiation with the Empire may be required."
"General Taar's animosity towards us is well known," Sebastian said. "We may require you to convince him not to destroy us."
"Your presence will no doubt provide some additional motivation for your arguments," the Queen observed.
"Thanks a lot," Romal said moodily.
"We will compensate you," Sebastian said. "A bonus for your success."
"And if I don't succeed?"
The Borg seemed to consider this.
"Then it is unlikely it would matter." The drones stepped away from Sebastian, who examined the modifications clinically.
"You haven't exactly improved my morale," Romal said. In response, a drone appeared holding a fruit basket. "Thank you," he said, but sarcasm was lost on the Borg.
--------------------------------------------------------------
There had been some initial apprehension about the Millennium Falcon landing at one of the alliance bases, but when Han had revealed they had some major news about the Vong, it had been overlooked. Nevertheless, Borda's people took great pains to examine the ship and its cargo in detail for the possibility of being tracked. They turned up nothing, although there was apprehension about their frozen companion.
"Who is he?" Kilana asked as four of Borda's people brought it down the ramp. "A friend of yours?"
"No," Han said. "Know him by reputation only."
"He can help us?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" Kilana looked at him critically. "I risked my life for a maybe?"
"We didn't rescue him for his help," Han said. "We did it because of what they did to him." He touched the carbonite carefully, as if worried it'd be too hot. "I wouldn't do this to my worst enemy," he said quietly. He began making some adjustments. "Let's stand this thing up to make it a little easier. In fact," he said as an afterthought, "we should probably move this outside, just to be on the safe side. I've heard he can be rather ornery and we wouldn't want him destroying your hangar... or my ship."
"You know, you never did answer my question." Kilana said. "Who is he?"
The group started manhandling the slab into position. "His name's Kalib," Han said. "Information broker, among other things. He's not on anyone's side exactly, but being a Vong prisoner should put him on our side, if we're lucky."
"And if we're not lucky?" Kilana asked.
"Then he might hold a grudge against the entire universe," Han said. "And from what I've heard, he just might try to act on it, starting with us."
"Wait, then why are we-"
"Here goes nothing," he said, ignoring Kilana as he operating the controls. The carbonite slowly melted away, exposing trapped limbs to air once again. Finally the front was completely clear, leaving the occupant free to step out.
Kalib fell face forward onto the ground.
"Is he still frozen?" Kilana asked, recovering from the shock of the impact that had shaken the ground.
"No," Han said. "Just having a little trouble I think."
"You don't sound like a Vong," said a voice muffled by grass.
"No," Kilana said. "We rescued you."
"Oh," the prone figure said, still face down on the ground. "Thanks."
"Um, do you want us to help you up?"
"No, I think I'd rather lie face down in the dirt here until the heat death of the universe."
"There's no need for sarcasm," Kilana said.
"Who's being sarcastic?" Kalib said. "You ever been carbon-frozen? Face down in the dirt is a hell of an improvement."
"I hear you," Han muttered.
Kalib was quiet. "Solo?"
"Yeah, it's me," Han said. "You've heard of me?"
"Just from the guys who were freezing me," Kalib said. "How long did it take you to recover?"
"What year is it?" Han asked.
"He's not being sarcastic either," Kalib told Kilana. "Could someone get me something to eat? There's some things you just can't do on an empty stomach." He groaned a little. "Throwing up is one of them, and I'd really like to right now."
"How's your vision?" Han asked.
"I'm face down in the dirt, any more stupid questions?"
"You can try sitting up," Han suggested.
"Yeah, and you can-" Kalib's description was rather graphic, but suffice to say it left four of them wincing, an Arcona confused, and Kilana wishing she had a datapad to write it down. A flock of birds flew from a nearby tree.
"All right," Han said. "If that's how you feel."
"[Should we fetch a medical droid?]" the Rodian asked.
"No!" Kalib said. "None of your voodoo witch doctors or whatever; been poked and prodded enough thank you. Just let me lie here for a while... what kind of star we orbiting?"
"G-class," Kilana said.
"Good, should be plenty of time before it explodes to get some rest."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Hundreds of ships filled the skies over Dantoonie, a world that had been on various sides of the front line in this war. At the moment it was in Imperial territory, and the launch point for Taar's campaign into Vong territory. He expected them to beef up security in the wake of Solo's incursion, but these numbers would be more than enough for the conquest of a single world. It was just a pity they didn't have another Eclipse; it would make this job much easier.
Among the arriving ships was a transport from Chandrilla, which docked with the Defiance, Taar's flagship. Its passengers were quickly escorted to the bridge. Taar gave them an indifferent expression; he had no ill will for them, but his concentration was needed elsewhere at the moment. He went back to examining the reports with the Defiance's captain while the executive officer came over. "Welcome aboard," he offered, doing his best to seem sincere in doing work that might normally be assigned to some lieutenant. "The general is rather busy at the moment, but if there's anything you need, I can see to it."
"We're fine," Anakin said. "We'll try to stay out of your way."
The XO nodded with restrained relief. "The general would prefer if you not interfere in operations," he added. "Especially if we're engaging the enemy. If you have anything you wish to tell him, please do so through me."
"We will, thank you," Anakin said. The XO nodded and returned to the discussion with his superiors.
"Not the warmest welcome I've had," Laudica remarked.
Anakin half-shrugged. "They're going into a key battle of the war while having to humor three civilians. I've seen worse."
"Then why are we even bothering?" Alema asked. "Let them sort it out if they think they can."
"We're in this together," Anakin said. "If things go wrong, that's when we'll step in."
"And if things go right, I'm sure they'll be real gracious," Laudica said sarcastically.
"I hope you didn't join the Jedi expecting thanks," Anakin said. "If so you're going to be in for a long wait."
The comm sounded, ending the conversation. "All fighter crews to your stations. All fighter crews to your stations." And soon after, the skies over Dantooine were again empty.
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"It was I who first led the Empire to my galaxy," the Oracle continued speaking to the holocron. "In my naiveté I paved the way for their conquest of my people, ensuring their subjugation at their tyrannous hands. For years we held them back, but eventually they came in force, and we were helpless before them." There seemed a black aura around her as she spoke. "I lost all that mattered to me when they came. They had given me the means to return home, but under their heel it lost all appeal for me.
"I considered joining one of the rebel forces that had emerged in my portion of space. In the end, however, it seemed pointless. At our strongest we lacked the means to hold them back; how could we expect to drive them out in our weakness? No, I decided that there was no way to oppose them, at least in this manner.
"Among my people there is a history of temporal disruptions caused by what is known in the vernacular as time travel. I lured a former associate into aiding me for a time, but when she discovered my intent she abandoned me. Her betrayal was indicative of the times; my people were already becoming complacent within the Empire. I attempted to alter the past on two occasions at this time, but neither proved successful. In desperation, I made a decision."
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The Imperial fleet dropped out of hyperspace less than a quarter million miles from Mi-noss. Twenty-one Vong coralships awaited them; less then what General Taar had expected, but perhaps they'd struck faster than the Vong had anticipated. Still... "Launch all fighters," he ordered. "Groups 1 and 2 are to continue to target; all remaining ships, engage the enemy."
Alema stepped to Anakin's side and spoke in a voice only they could hear. "I sense nothing."
"Me neither," Anakin replied. "But maybe the yammosk knows how to avoid us."
"It's not there, is it," Laudica said, not even bothering to phrase it as a question. "It's a trick."
"You don't know that," Anakin said.
"We should feel something-"
"This is exactly what Taar wanted us to avoid," Anakin said. "We don't know anything, we have guesses."
"But if we're right," Laudica said, "then this is probably a trap."
"And if we're wrong," Anakin said, "we risk missing a critical opportunity against the Vong."
"Then I say we-"
"It's not your place to say, padawan," Anakin said sharply. "Nor is it mine." He regretted having to say the words, but they needed to be said. The Jedi had to remain outside the military hierarchy; peace-keepers, not soldiers. He turned away and looked out the front of the bridge towards the battle, hoping they didn't die for that idea. Laudica stepped to his side; he expected a rebuke, but instead he felt her hand slip into his and grip it tightly. It was worse than anything she could have possibly said. She was headstrong and defiant, but she was putting all her trust in Anakin at that moment. The thought of that trust being misplaced was a heavy burden as energy lanced through the void. He squeezed back.
Taar stood at the center of the bridge, eyes flitting back and forth over the displays of the battle and occasionally up to the view outside the bridge. "What's the status of the planet?" he asked. "I'm not getting any reading."
"The Vong are jamming us, sir," the captain said. "We haven't been able to cut through." He looked over the reports coming in. "They've destroyed the crust to seventy percent of the planet, sir. Another minute and they will be finished."
He went back to his silent observations. The Imperials suffered little damage with their huge numerical superiority, although the coralskippers were proving difficult. He watched three move in perfect formation to ram the sensor dome on a star destroyer. He nodded a little to himself. "Captain?"
"They're finished, general," the captain said. "The crust of the planet has been vaporized."
"One hundred percent?"
"Yes sir."
"Alert all commands," Taar called out. "Prepare to retreat."
"Sir?" the captain said in surprise as the comm officer quickly began carrying out the order.
"The yammosk isn't here," Taar said. "It's a trap."
"Sir, we've destroyed-"
"If the yammosk is dead, then who the kriff is flying those ships? We retreat-"
"Sir, indictor torpedoes have just exploded in our area!" came a report from the pit. Taar had already turned to the next officer before the report came in.
"Vong ships coming-"
"How many?" Taar demanded quickly.
"We're still counting sir... hundreds, and they're launching coralskippers. They've cut off our retreat."
Taar looked from the screens to the approaching Vong fleet. "Seven hundred, at least, probably a lot more. All right, let's show these Vong how dangerous something trapped in a corner can be."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Fortunately Kalib's recovery was measured in human rather than stellar time and eventually he left the loving embrace of the soil for the interior of the alliance base. His appetite seemed to return as well as he made up for lost time. Han and Kilana sat with him, but neither ate. It wasn't that Kalib was disgusting when he ate, it was rather because watching him eat was akin to seeing a man roll across a tightrope on a unicycle while holding a piano, it kept your interest.
"After Skywalker and his kid got away the Vong managed to overpower me, knock me out," Kalib explained while he continued his meal. "The Vong kept looking me over, trying to unravel my DNA or something, but they were having a tough go of it. My people are pretty hearty."
"So we've noticed," Han said. "It's a wonder they didn't try to brainwash you; they seemed to try with everyone else."
"Who says they didn't?" Kalib said, drinking half a liter of milk in one go. "But after a few centuries, your demons tend to come out and start straightening out the furniture and all that. There's nothing the Vong showed me I didn't make peace with a long time ago or frankly just don't give a damn about."
"Didn't you try to escape?" Kilana asked. "I'd imagine it'd be very hard to keep you prisoner."
"Escaped a few times," Kalib said. "But, problem is, flapping my arms isn't going to get me off an isolated planet is it? They'd find me and come up with some way to lock me up again, and then the cycle would repeat itself. I would kill for some kfalla sauce with this," he added. "Tastes like rubber-coated ceramic. Anyway, eventually they tried a stasis field, only, like I said, the physiology is pretty hardy, so eventually I could shake it off. I guess the carbon-freeze was their last bet."
"Why not just kill you?" Han asked. Kalib gave him a look, but Han stood his ground. "It's just a question. You have an answer?"
"Killing me is kind of hard," Kalib said. "And the Vong are into the whole genetic thing, kind of like that Species 8472 mob."
"Still-" Han began, but the alert sounded. The three looked at each other as a flurry of activity broke out across the base, then ran for the command center. "What's happening?" he asked. Han had a natural tone of command that had only improved with age. The answer was quick, if not particularly welcome.
"[The Vong have just entered the system.]"
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The initial volley of interdictor torpedoes ensured the Imperial fleet would be stuck for four minutes, more than enough time for the Vong gravity ships to move in and extend it indefinitely. The Vong biotechnology operated differently than the Imperial version, which did not have the same vulnerability to DIT's. An Imperial counter-weapon had not been developed because other Vong technology had been a greater priority. Fighting to the edge to escape was the only option, and that didn't look like it would work either, what with the Empire outnumbered three to one.
"Is there anything we can do?" Laudica asked Anakin.
"Let them do their job," Anakin said.
"I'd rather do something more constructive," Laudica replied.
"Yes," Alema added. "I'm not going to just wait for the Vong to destroy us-"
Quiet! Anakin thought so sharply it cut their thoughts off as suddenly as a shout. They can hear you, he thought, indicating the men and women around the bridge. If they see us despair, what do you think will happen to their courage?
Laudica tried to respond in kind, but she lacked the training. She leaned in very close and spoke so quietly Anakin could barely hear it. "We could take our shuttle, make a run for it. With our Jedi reflexes we could make it."
We'll not abandon these people, Anakin thought.
"We won't do any good to anyone dying here," Laudica pointed out.
"We should find some fighters," Alema said. "At least we'd have a way to fight back."
"No fighter is going to take down those coralships," Laudica said. "It would be futile."
"I would rather die trying," Alema said.
"I'd rather not," Laudica said.
Enough! We stay and wait, that is my decision. Anakin waited as the two grudgingly accepted it, then turned back to the view beyond the window. It didn't fill him with much confidence in his Imperial allies.
Unconcerned with the details of the Jedi debate, Taar examined a holographic representation of the battle occurring outside the window. His initial instructions were being carried out by the groups that made up the fleet. He didn't micromanage them; the captains of these ships were those Taar had felt were capable, so second-guessing their command abilities was counter-productive. He looked for openings to exploit, but with the sheer numeric disadvantage there wasn't anything new. The bridge shook as coralships bombarded them, but Taar's attention stayed focused. He saw the three of them around the shape of the Defiance. It was clean and sterile here... a paper battle for a paper general. He turned and looked out the front of the ship; the Vong coralship was there, bombarding the Defiance's shields enough so they could deploy their insects and tear it apart from the inside. His crew was ready for it, but it was a big ship... lots of places for the bugs to reek havoc before they were eliminated.
Taar blinked in surprise as the coralship shuddered under sudden impact, then exploded. A ship quickly flew through the debris, in sight for only a moment, but- "Captain, tell me I didn't just see that."
"It's - It looks like the Borg, general," the Defiance's captain said. "They've engaged the Vong."
"Of course they have," Taar said with defeat in his voice. "They want us to themselves. I knew they'd turn on us."
"The Borg are hailing us, sir," the comm officer said.
"Save it," Taar said. "I've heard it enough for a lifetime."
"It's not their standard hail, general. They seem-"
"I gave my order," Taar snapped. "I'm not sure how many of them we can destroy, but I'm not planning on joining their collective."
The captain hesitated. "General, I think they're here to help."
"Help themselves to us," Taar said. "I think it's pretty clear now who set up this trap." He shook his head. "They'll assimilate us, and use that knowledge to tear down the Empire. Between them and the Vong, they could do it."
"Respectfully, general, the Vong and the Borg are the least likely allies in the universe," the captain said.
"I fought the Borg for years," Taar said with a voice full of rebuke. "I'd put nothing past them."
"Respectfully, sir, I've fought the Vong for years, and they would rather be defeated then partner themselves with the Borg. Besides, those are Vong ships they are destroying."
"It's all part of their plan," Taar said. "They always have an angle, always have some way of lowering your defenses and stealing away your individuality-"
"General," the captain said, "if those were Alliance ships, or the Klingons, or even the Kazon, we'd welcome this as potential salvation."
"But they're not!" Taar shouted. "They're the Borg, and the Borg don't change!" He seemed on the verge of screaming. "They're evil, captain, don't you understand; not that they do evil things but that they are evil itself, evil in physical form! You can't even kill them for good! How can you see salvation in those dead eyes, in those harbingers of doom out there?!" He looked wild-eyed through the window as the cubes joined in the battle against the Vong. "You can't let down your defenses, captain, not for a second. This is it, don't you see? They've been waiting for me, waiting for me to grow old and sentimental, waiting for me to slip up just once so they could finally- No! We're not going to be taken in by this."
"General," Anakin said, stepping forward. "I must tell you-"
"Stay out of this!" Taar said. "This is not your concern."
"General," Anakin continued. "I must tell you that there is no duplicity in the Borg's thoughts."
"You can read their mind?" Taar said incredulously.
"No, but with all those minds thinking as one it's easy to sense their motivation. They're here to help us, general, of that I'm certain."
Taar was about to shout, then froze, and nodded slowly. "You're in this with them too, aren't you. I should have known..."
"General," the captain whispered in his ear, "I suggest we let him try."
"Are you blind, man?! Can't you see-"
"Sir, respectfully," -and it was clear by now that the word had come to mean, in the captain's mouth, as being "you twit"- "your fleet will mutiny if you try to get them to turn against the Borg."
"How can you even think about trusting them?!"
"Because, sir, without them we will fall, and I doubt the Empire will be able to recover. The Borg offer uncertainty, but it is better than the certainty of failure."
While Taar and the captain hashed it out, Anakin returned to the apprentices. "I thought we were staying out of it," Laudica asked.
"Rules are made to be broken," Alema said.
"No, rules are made so that you don't break them unless you don't have any choice," Anakin said.
"I hope you're sure about what you're sensing," Laudica said.
"Yes," Anakin said, but there's was something in the word only someone intimately familiar with him could catch, and she did.
"You lied?"
"I stated what I think is the truth," Anakin said. "I just surrounded it with some lies for believability."
"Is there a rule about that too?"
"Yes," Anakin said. "Hopefully I'm right so I can tell you about it.
“Alert all commands,” Taar finally said, “do not fire on the Borg unless fired upon. I hope you are right, Jedi.”
“You have nothing to fear, general,” Anakin said. I hope.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"At this time I had exhausted my supply of equipment and credits," the Oracle continued. "I needed support to continue my research, someone who could see why my work would be so crucial without the risk of betrayal. The only choice was Elim Garak, a small-minded Cardassian, but one who had as much reason as I to hate the Empire because of the destruction of his world. Through a complex process, I was able to prove myself to him by supplying him with information. Assuring him this would only be the beginning, he gave me the materials I asked for to build more powerful equipment, and again I tried altering the past. And yet, my every path was blocked; not once could I succeed in even the smallest way of preventing the conquest by the Empire. I could find no reason for this, short of interference by some outside force. I suspected Q for a time, but this did not lead anywhere.
"Finally, after consideration, I remembered the existence of the energy field known as the Force. I began to study it, to learn if it was possible this was the cause of interference, and if there would be a way to avoid it. However, something came of my studies I did not expect: the realization that the Force is interlinked with time. Having reached a dead end in my own work, I realized that this might be the path to finally ridding myself of the Empire."
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The tactical cube was the result of the Borg's war with Species 8472. It was, by and large, a concession on the part of the collective. The Borg were not a military power; their ships were designed to grab and assimilate, not to wage war. For every other species in the galaxy this didn't seem much of a distinction, but with Species 8472 they learned there were some threats that, if unchecked, would destroy them. In such instances, brute force was the only solution, and thus the tactical cube was conceived. It was a ship of war, and now that war was upon them, the Borg used them. Many had been built when they had fought the Empire decades ago, and their hearty design allowed them to survive adrift more easily then their less robust counterparts. Most of the fleet, then, consisted of these powerful ships.
Saying General Taar loathed the Borg would be unfair, the reason being that left no word to describe how the Vong felt about them. Taar saw them as a pet peeve compared to the Vong. Upon their arrival the Imperials were practically forgotten as the coralships and skippers turned their full attention to their antithesis. One of the standard cubes slipped into the heat of battle and was quickly bombarded by the Vong forces. It exploded in less than a minute, causing mild panic in Romal. "Oh kriff oh kriff oh kriff oh kriff..."
"Adjusting shield geometry to compensate," the Queen said. "Increasing power to EM fields."
"Yes yes, increase power," Romal muttered in fear. "Adapt. In the name of all that is holy, adapt!"
"We will handle the tactical matters, Romal the Attorney," the Queen said. "You will handle diplomacy."
"Yes yes, fine, just adapt, please!"
"Closing distance to two thousand kilometers," Sebastian said.
"No no, no closing!" The Borg ignored him; they were quite good at that.
"I am.... conflicted upon this tactic," the Queen said. "Your distinctiveness is unique. Its loss would make us less complete."
"Yet that uniqueness can serve us here," Sebastian said.
"The plan is sound..." The Queen was visibly conflicted. "Be efficient."
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General Taar continued examining the hologram and the real universe it represented. "They do seem to have the Vong's attention," he admitted. "Alert all commands; we reform our battle lines here, here, and here," he indicated on the hologram. "Then we squeeze."
While coralskippers and assorted fighters exchanged fire, the star destroyers formed a series of walls, leaving the Vong trapped in a crossfire with the Empire on one side and the huge Borg fleet on the other. Turbolasers blasted chunks out of their surface while heavy energy beams cut through the coral armor like a scalpel. The Vong energy weapons were still getting through the Borg defenses, but the damage was minor by comparison. Their insect-filled torpedoes, however, were causing greater difficulty, since they were able to bypass the shields that filled their corridors by digging through surrounding paneling. Commander Imal instructed his troops to use those whenever possible.
Not long after he gave the order the coralship shook under an impact, causing the crew on the bridge to stumble for a moment. As they did, lights appeared in the back of the room; they turned and noted with disgust the arrivals: humanoids, and worse, humanoids who polluted their bodies with machinery. Four Vong quickly moved to slaughter them.
Sebastian stood amongst the Borg drones; their eyes assessed the faces of their opponents, seeking out the one of highest rank. He was quickly spotted, and the Borg moved into action. Vong blows rained down on them, killing them quickly as they moved towards the target. The commander took out his own weapon now, let out a cry, and swung it at Sebastian.
A blue energy blade emerged from the Borg's left wrist, catching the blow as his right reached out and grabbed his target. The two vanished, as did the drones, living and dead. The Vong looked puzzled for a moment, then got back down to the business of the battle.
The Vong commander knocked Sebastian aside and swung his staff wildly to hold the Borg at bay. He would kill anyone who got too close, that much was certain. However, here, in the most abominable enemy the Vong had ever faced, they found their equal. Not in terms of fighting, of course; their technique lacked any combat prowess. No, their true advantage was that, just like the Vong, the Borg feared nothing. They swarmed over him as his staff tore flesh and shattered metal, killing four and severely injuring another six, but the staff was wrenched from him, and the Borg more than made up for their anemic hand-to-hand techniques with brute strength and sheer numbers. "I will tell you nothing!" he cried with a defiant laugh as they strapped him down onto the table. "No pain can break me! Whoever you are, you're wasting your time, haha!"
Sebastian stood over him at the table. "We are the Borg, and you will be assimilated. Your thoughts will now service us." His assimilation tubules punctured the commander's neck. He yanked them free, and the commander began to twitch, then seize.
"I - will not - talk!" he said through his teeth.
"Talk is irrelevant," Sebastian informed him. "Resistance is futile. Your existence, as it has been, is over. From this time forward you will service us."
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The Queen observed the battle, both through her senses and through the voices of the collective. She paused for a few seconds, then hailed the Defiance. The annoyed expression of General Taar greeted her. "What's so damn important?" he demanded.
"The yammosk is not on Mi-noss," the Queen informed him.
"Yes, thanks, we figured that one out a long time ago."
"It has been moved to Barhis III," the Queen said.
Taar eyed her suspiciously. "How do you know that?"
"The knowledge and experience of the Vong -Kor Imal- is part of us now." The remark did not have the expected reaction. Instead Taar looked very angry and the transmission was terminated. The Queen dismissed it as the irrationality of humans and returned to the battle. Soon the Defiance hailed them.
"I don't trust you an inch," Taar said sharply. "Let's be clear on that."
"We are aware of that," the Queen said.
"Why should I listen to you?" he demanded. "Tell me why I should follow the Borg anywhere?"
Romal stepped forward. "Do you think the Borg came to your aid here only to lead you into a second trap?"
"That's not what I asked," Taar shot back. "Why should I even be talking to you after all you've done?"
"Because we are in this with you, general," the Queen said. "If you are destroyed, we will be as well. In any event, you are the leader of the Empire. It is we who will follow you."
"I don't buy it," Taar said. "Besides, you may need us, but we don't need you."
"We lost our first invasion of Earth," the Queen said, "because of the unforeseen. Every scenario showed that victory was assured, and yet we lost. We failed to consider there was some factor outside our calculations that could overcome us. It was our fatal flaw." Taar showed slight confusion at the comment. "You taught that to your students, yes? The question, general, is how certain are you that you can destroy the Vong without us?"
Taar cut the transmission. Romal whistled thoughtfully as he shook his head. "I don't think he liked hearing that," he commented.
"His mood is irrelevant," the Queen said. "It is only how he acts upon the information that matters."
"When this is over," Romal said, "we need to start work on another item called 'customer relations.'"
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The first Vong ships hit the rebel hangars, destroying or collapsing them before they could get off the planet. Then there was silence. "What's happening?" Han asked, "why'd they stop firing." He'd been in hundreds of battles and he knew the cessation of fire, a normally welcome sound, was often the precursor to even worse news.
"They've got us trapped," Kalib said. "They're gonna come down and fight face to face... that's their thing, see? They've got us all caged up; they can wipe us out if they lose, so why not have a chance to enjoy the thrill of battle?"
"So we're seeing how many of them we take with us?" Han asked as he pulled out his blaster with a half-shrug. "Not a problem."
"Um, yes, I have a problem," Kilana said. "The cloning tanks are shut down; if they kill me then that's the end."
Han and Kalib looked at her, then each other, then back at her. "You do know that's what death is," Han said, "right?"
"Well... yeah," Kilana said. "But I'm a Vorta... death is something that happens to other people."
"I've always said that," Kalib said with a nod.
"Well if we're going to die, then what's the point?" Kilana asked. "Why bother 'taking them with us?' It won't make any difference for us."
"Look kid," Han said, "this isn't the time. If by some miracle we don't die I'll answer your question, and if I don't, then it won't make any difference, right? I'm not one for philosophy."
"Speaking of philosophy," Kalib said, "anyone have a large object I can beat someone with?"
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"The teachings I began reading were those of the Jedi," the Oracle said. "I spent much time trying to understand their perspectives, but they were frustrating in their approach. They feared their power, and they made little effort to push the limits of what they could do to time. Likewise they seemed to offer no way of opposing the Empire; my antagonism was not in agreement with their way.
"I recalled an event I witnessed once involving the Jedi Skywalker. In his darkness I saw him obliterate two Borg ships with merely his will; later he did this to an entire fleet. If the so-called 'dark side' could provide this kind of a weapon, then perhaps it also had the answers I sought.
"By this time my mastery of time manipulation allowed me to seek out knowledge long since lost in the distant past. In my studies I came across the Sith process they called Alchemy. Through it I found treatments that could be used to augment myself so that I could begin to feel the touch of the Force. Over time I augmented those abilities through alchemical treatments. Through study I learned how to use my Force meditations to see the future, and in time I was able to accomplish this without meditation, but through alchemical stimulation. And from this I saw that the future was not immutable, that I could change it, herd it in my direction towards my outcome.
“I foresaw the arrival of the Vong, a hopelessly outmatched collection of barbarians. They would be quickly and quietly wiped out, a footnote in the annals of the Empire. But I saw in them a force I could use against the Empire, if I could properly control them."
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Cubes had a decentralized structure, so Sebastian merely left the assimilation chamber to join in the coordination of the battle. The Vong's mind had been quickly dissected and his information disseminated throughout the collective. They considered their move carefully.
"We will assist the rebels in their defense," Sebastian said to the Queen through their link.
"Our thoughts are one," the Queen said in agreement. "Sixty-seven vessels will suffice."
"We concur," Sebastian said. "This one will accompany; the survival of this one's knowledge will be important if unforeseen factors are encountered."
"The remainder will proceed to Barhis III," the Queen said. "It would be beneficial if Taar recognized the wisdom of this." It was as close as a Borg could get to hope.
Without another comment on the subject, Sebastian and the ships designated to his fleet slipped out of the battle and raced to the edge of the interdiction zone. As soon as they were clear they slipped into hyperspace and were gone.
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"To think that it could come to this," Taar said just above a whisper. "That we have to rely on the Borg against our enemies."
"I'd imagine the Borg are wondering the same thing, general," the captain remarked. "That they must rely on us for their survival."
"If they were inclined towards introspection," Taar said. "Which they're not." He was quiet for some time. "'The knowledge and experience...'" he said quietly. "They now know everything about the Vong, at least as much as a high-ranking officer could know. It's reprehensible... but it could save countless lives on our side."
"They are Imperial citizens," the captain pointed out. "In a way, they're a bit like Borda and his rebels... just doing their point to preserve the Empire."
Is this how it started for Thrawn? Taar wondered. Turning your enemy against even worse ones? The Borg could be such a powerful tool... No! Look where that led him! He was ready to betray them all to the Borg at the end.
"General," the captain said, "the Vong ships are withdrawing. Shall we pursue?"
Taar looked up at what was in all likelihood the largest Borg fleet assembled in a millennia. "We will follow," the Queen had said. Taar had the entire Imperial war machine under his command, and yet, the thought of having that fleet under his control made him heady. It was as if he'd tamed evil itself like a great beast and could now ride it against his enemies. But it was hard to suppress three decades worth of nightmares.
"Hail the Borg," Taar said.
"Which ship, sir?" the comm officer asked.
"It's the Borg, you twit, it doesn't matter." Taar waited until the display showed the Queen and the Devaronian again. "You say you're a corporation?" Taar asked.
"A limited liability company," the Queen replied.
"Close enough. In keeping with the terms of your license I'm conscripting your defensive forces in the defense of the Empire."
"The law requires compensation for any lost property or personnel-" the lawyer began.
"Yes, yes, of course. It also requires a corporate officer be present with the military commander for the course of the conflict, which means you, ma'am."
"I see," the Queen said. "So that you might keep an eye on me?"
"Let's just say I'd feel less uncomfortable about this situation if you were within strangling distance."
The Queen nodded. A few seconds later she and Romal materialized on the Defiance's bridge. "My attorney insisted on accompanying me," she said to Taar.
"Purely to provide counsel, I assure you," Romal added. "The fact that you are heavily armed, thickly armored, and massively shielded never crossed my mind."
"Of course," Taar said dismissively. He tried reading the Borg Queen, but it was impossible. She seemed like she'd cooperate, but you could never really tell. "I take it you can relay my orders without me having to contact your ships."
"Affirmative," the Queen said. "What are your orders, general."
"Barhis III," Taar said. "And don't spare the nanoprobes."
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"Aiding the Vong struggle would be the key to my plans of crushing the Empire," the Oracle said to the darkness. "But despite how far I had come, I knew that my skills were feeble at best. What would be necessary for this task would require far more training then I could acquire in old books and recordings... I would need to learn from the masters themselves. And that was exactly what I did.
"My temporal displacement technology allowed me to travel to the distant past to the high points of Sith knowledge. I soon discovered what I had thought was mastery of Sith Alchemy proved to barely scratch the surface. I also explored the arts of the so-called Sith Sourcery. This became important, because the training in these techniques required many years. Time, my servant, now attempted to betray me through the feebleness of old age. However, I learned means to draw on the life forces of others to hold on to my health, to keep me alive and strong to continue my work. Many perished, but I offer no regrets; my work is far too important to entrust to another. Destroying the Empire is more important than those lives lost.
"I learned the ways of Naga Sadow, Exar Kun, Freedon Nod, and Darth Bane. I am sure all could sense my motives in being their pupil, but since my aspirations were for times and places beyond their reach, they no doubt felt me no threat. Corran Baj, however, tried to take my time control technology away by force, and I had to kill him because of it. History was left untouched, as it always was, although I will confess the feeling of power at besting an ancient Sith was quite intoxicating. The feeling of power only fueled my drive for Sith knowledge, and made me realize that what I truly needed to do was not merely stop the Sith, but conquer the territory in its name. The Empire coddled the Jedi with their weak and useless philosophies instead of embracing the ways of the Sith. Its Emperor was a faker, striving for a cause that only further advanced weakness. Thus, my plan changed slightly, to elevate the Vong and drag down the Empire that the two might annihilate one another."
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Barhis III was one of the numerous mining colonies throughout the galaxy; a minor settlement to say the least. In keeping with Vong strategy, the populace had been gathered together as a human shield should the Empire choose to attack. In case that failed, there was a more direct back-up.
"Planetary shield," the Queen informed General Taar. "Single projector, small range. The yammosk is located in the city."
"Defenses?" Taar asked.
"Barhis III is a staging area for moving troops to the front lines. They have numerous ground forces to resist an assault. But the shield is far too strong to penetrate even with all our ships together."
Taar turned to Anakin. "That 'just in case' you talked about? It's here."
"We can take care of the yammosk, general," Anakin said. "But getting from here to there isn't going to be easy. We're going to need help."
Taar nodded. "You'll get it."
"We will assist you," the Queen said.
"Thanks, but I'd like to reach the city some time before the end of time," Taar said. "You people aren't known for speed."
"Yes," the Queen said. "But we have adapted. And the soldiers down there will know more about the planet than we do."
Taar shuddered at the thought. "I don't like this," he said.
"The Borg are only offering to do this to help us win, general," Romal said. "There's no ulterior motive."
"I'd like to believe that," Taar said. Surprisingly, there was no malice to it.
"Trust has to start somewhere, general," Anakin said. "And the more the Borg can tell us about what's down there, the greater our chances of stopping the Vong."
"I know I know," Taar said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ready your... whatevers," Taar said. "Captain, alert all commands, we're establishing a camp at," he quickly examined the holographic projection of the planet, then "touched" a spot, causing it to light up, "these coordinates. I want all our ground forces prepped and ready."
"Yes, general," the captain said.
"And you, Jedi," Taar said, turning to Anakin, "good luck."
"Thank you, general," Anakin said, and with his two apprentices, left the bridge.
Romal, noting he and the Queen had been forgotten for the moment, lowered his voice. "You know, we haven't actually field tested these new droids."
"The prototypes functioned properly," the Queen said.
"Yes, but they still are untested," Romal said nervously. "You didn't tell them that!"
"We do not think the general would approve of such information," the Queen said.
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"I am master of time," the Oracle announced. "And yet, even I do not have an infinite supply of it. I could not both lay my plans and carry out the work necessary when it was required. An apprentice was needed, but I had even less time to train up a follower. Using my technology I scoured adjacent universes, seeking out one to carry out my will, and I found him. Capable enough, but an arrogant fool that I knew could be easily deceived. His anger was great, so it was easy to use the Force to give him subtle nudges this way and that. While I attended to the collapse of the Empire, he killed my enemies, trained my students, delivered my messages. Were he a true Sith, one schooled in the ways of the ancients he wishes to emulate, he should have seen through me long before I revealed myself to him. He is an example for you, one who thinks himself strong because he is quick with a saber and skilled in a fight. However, he is weak in spirit, easily coerced and blind to what goes on about him. No thought for how to make the future beyond the obvious. But I say to you, you who bear this holocron, that you do not seize power, you develop through diligence.
"And that is how I topple the Empire."
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The All-Terrain Heavy Transport was the latest design in Imperial ground weaponry. Like its predecessor, the AT-HT was a troop transport by design, slow but heavily armored. The legs were thicker and more flexible, giving it a greater stability and able to get around the old tow-cable trick. In addition, a group of manned gunnery pods were located at eight points around the body of the walker to help resist aerial forces and eliminate targets of opportunity. Alongside the AT-HT's were the mobile artillery units, treaded to allow it to pass through semi-permeable shields. It was essentially a treaded box, twelve meters long and five high, with a laser cannon on top. Flanking the two craft were smaller and more maneuverable speeders, tanks, and support craft. Laudica whistled as her eyes drifted over the vast army. "This'll make the Vong think twice," she said to no one in particular.
"The Vong will enjoy the challenge," Alema said darkly. "Brutality is their native language."
"Let's stay focused," Anakin said. "The Empire is handling the ground battle; we've got to worry about getting inside."
The trio’s gaze gradually drifted to the edge of the camp, where the Borg were setting up field equipment, most of which made a torture chamber look like a feng shui catalog. "I'm starting to see Taar's point of view," Laudica confessed.
"Just keep reminding yourself they're on our side," Anakin said, although he seemed a bit uncertain himself.
"This doesn't feel right, Anakin," Laudica said. "The Vong are bad guys, sure, but can we let the Borg do this to them?"
"I suppose it's better than killing them," Anakin said.
"It's redemption," Alema said. "For all the lives they've destroyed, they can now do something to help make that right."
"I guess I'm the only one who can't rally behind this," Laudica said irritably. But before anyone could respond, the Borg's army arrived, and all thoughts were put on hold as the ranks materialized. "What in the kriff are those?" she asked slowly, mesmerized.
"They’re not Borg," Anakin said with a slight shake of his head. "Battle droids. Lots and lots of battle droids."
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A quick inventory of the rebel base's armory provided nothing for Kalib, save for four Gamorrean axes, which he dismissed as too impractical. "Too small to wield, too big to throw." Someone scrounged up a medium repeating blaster rifle and quickly cut off the trigger guard to accommodate Kalib's huge hands, and a handle was attached to a fusion generator for him to power it, meaning that Kalib technically qualified as mobile artillery. However, as the Vong ships began landing, it was clear that was likely not going to be enough.
Han took the lead, positioning the rebel forces around the base with a practiced eye. He kept Kilana close by. "How good are you with a blaster?" he asked.
"Proficient," she said.
"The weak spots are the neck and the seams of the armor," Han said. "Are you good enough to pick those off on a moving target?"
"No," she admitted. "But I do have one trick to use."
Han nodded; he knew what she meant. "That could come in handy, if you can do it from cover."
"No problem," she said. Then the air exploded from a group of thud bugs, and the two ducked for cover.
"Good, I don't like problems," Han said, turning and firing a few shots from his blaster. A Vong went down, then Han ducked back. "Not good for your health."
Kilana wasn't listening. She was focused, and a ball of white energy rose out of her chest, flew across the field, and knocked a Vong over. Han shot him while he was prone, then turned and put three shots on another approaching warrior before that one went down as well.
In the meantime, Kalib stood out in the middle of things, having never quite grasped the need for cover. Apparently projectile weaponry wasn't part of his forte, probably because hand weapons were too small for him. The shots struck wildly among the Vong, but there were so many of them and so many bolts flying around that it was inevitable that the two should meet. However, the accidental shots weren't doing much to slow them down, and Han was beginning to wonder if the rebels were even going to be able to put up much of a fight.
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It had been a long time ago, when Vader sat near a fire and told his grandson the tale of the Clone Wars. Man versus machine... the cold unemotional logic of the droids versus the adaptive, creative passions of humanity. The droids, however, were also held back by their masters, who feared the army turning against them. Droid control computers were an Achilles’ heel, not to mention the limitations it placed on tactical responses to the army as both individuals and as a larger unit. Vader had planted the seed in that telling. What the droid army needed, really needed, was a computer capable of overseeing massive numbers of individuals, of being both coldly logically and highly adaptive, which did not fear their creation, which could bring together the natural and the artificial in a constant strive for perfection. They needed the thoughts of the droids and the computer to be one.
Sebastian had lifted the designs from ISB records. The design patent had expired long before he was born, so there was nothing to stop the Borg from building on Dooku's failed revolt. At the forefront of the Borg line rolled thousands of destroyer droids. They operated like pawns on a chessboard, alternating movement with their neighbor by rolling to the advance position, then letting loose with their twin cannons against any Vong forces in their way while those on either side advanced and did the same. The Vong's armor was somewhat resistant to blaster fire, but the sustained attacks and sheer ferocity forced them back.
Racing up the destroyer droid ranks came a series of battle droids on swoops, two to a bike. They were of the sturdier design, so that when two swoops converged on a Vong warrior the passengers would disembark and tackle him. Between the two of them one would manage to avoid the furious strikes long enough to inject its assimilation tubules into some weak point in the armor. Sometimes both droids would be destroyed, but the nanoprobes did their work, and back at the camp the Borg would lock on to the new signal with a transporter and beam the writhing Vong to them. Within a minute, the process would be complete, and a new drone admitted to the collective. It was, however, proving a costly venture.
The Imperial forces continued on, either oblivious to or conveniently ignoring the actions of their recent allies. The mobile artillery and AT-HT's softened up the targets that stood between them and the city, usually a Vong blockade of some kind. The Vong responded with their various weaponry. Projectiles as hard as diamond and sharp enough to make a razor look like a rolling pin slashed into their armor. The great machines collapsed or exploded under their onslaught, but more came up to take their place and rain laser fire down on the Vong.
The Vong infantry had disappeared from before the destroyer droid line. The droids rolled over the hill and pushed on towards the next. Waiting for them, however, were the Fan'cals. They were huge, lumbering beasts, with a body like a squat brachiosaur, covered in armored scales. It had a head and neck like a flatworm, and a tail twice the length of its body but thin and mobile like a whip. As soon as the droids came into view the Fan'cals opened their wide mouths and sprayed incandescent fire across the line. The ground popped and hissed in the wake of the attack as the ceramic surface cooled, molten metals pooled across its surface. The droids opened fire, but the skin of the Fan'cals was even thicker than the Vong armor. A second blast of white-hot flame ran across the line, and the destroyer droids withdrew. However, waiting behind them was a huge collection of Vong warriors, who had circled around to catch the retreating droids. The Vong’s excitement quickly turned to frustration as they discovered that, in fact, the droid withdrawal had pushed the Vong into a crossfire with a second destroyer droid force that also cut off their retreat. Their staffs sliced through the droids lines, but the firepower decimated their forces with every apparent advance.
The Fan'cals were quickly dispersed by a few well-placed shots from the mobile artillery, but even the Empire's heavy vehicles were having difficulty against the war beasts. Two Fan'cals, working together, lashed onto an AT-HT with their tails and pulled its legs out, sending it toppling over with a ground-shaking crash. As the stormtroopers exited the prone vehicle a group of Vong cavalry riding Kyar-beasts overwhelmed them and killed most before they could even draw their weapons. Elsewhere, crews perished in their craft as their interiors turned into ovens under the Fan'cals breath.
General Taar watched the events from the bridge of the Defiance. "It's amazing what they can do with biotechnology," he said. "That they can actually stand up to our forces..."
"It is impressive," the Queen agreed. "But ultimately limiting. The Fan'cals, for example, have nearly exhausted their supply of fuel, and it will take many hours for them to replenish enough for even another bout of flame."
"Like a pet playing a musical instrument," Romal observed. "It's not that it does it well, it's the fact it can do it at all."
"Yes, but the Vong know of the weakness, and they expect we'll see it too." The Queen pointed along the map. "They'll withdraw this direction, expecting you to follow. It's a trap; there are mines, pits, hidden weapon emplacements. You'll need to alert your forces, general."
Taar's eyes darted between the map and Queen for a few seconds. "Are you sure?"
"We are Borg."
"That's a yes," Romal explained. "It's a cultural thing."
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The rebel forces had been forced to fall back before the ferocity of the Vong onslaught. Only Kalib had stood his ground and was currently using the remains of his rifle as a blunt object against the Vong that swarmed around him. Kilana crouched, panting next to Han, eyes screwed tightly shut as another white energy ball emerged from her body and struck an approaching Vong soldier. Blood ran from one nostril but she didn't seem to notice. Han would have stopped her for her health if he wasn't certain that her long-term health was unlikely to be an issue. We go down fighting, he'd said, and she seemed intent to follow through on it.
There was a high-pitched whistle followed by a green flash, and the Vong before them exploded. Han paused a moment in his attack, but only a moment because stopping could get you killed. Another bomb fell out of nowhere, blowing up the advancing Vong lines. Now he peered up at the sky and could make out the distant sight of weapons fire. "Looks like Borda's people heard about our little problem,” he remarked, then reached out and caught Kalina before she hit the ground. Her eyes were rolled up into their sockets. He looked between her and the Vong forces, then threw her arm over his shoulder and dragged her out of harm's way. He glanced back, and most of the Vong were gone, apparently returning to their ships. At the sound of falling rocks, however, Han whipped out his blaster and pointed in the direction. A hand emerged from a crater, followed by a second, and then Kalib's face rose into view like a very angry moon. He was swearing in several languages at once.
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In orbit, Sebastian observed the Borg attack on the Vong ships. They had more than a four to one advantage, which was only increasing. The Vong tactics were standard and thus predictable; the Borg adapted quickly. It didn't take long before the last ship was a burning hulk dropping over the planet. Long-range scans showed no sign of reinforcements, but the collective judged it prudent to wait to ensure the survivors might be able to escape. His task, however, was complete, and Sebastian stepped into his alcove and began to regenerate.
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