StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Lando was in his "office," if you wanted to elevate the converted storage room to such a grand term, when word came to him. He grunted, put away the datapad, and proceeded towards the docking bay. Having Garak on the station was bad enough, but leaving him unescorted was a recipe for who knows what.

"Well well well," Lando said as the Cardassian descended from the shuttle. "I can't tell you how glad I am to have you back on board our little battlestation."

Garak didn't even bothering pausing. "You can dispense with your usual pleasantries, Calrissian," he said as he proceeded towards the exit, Lando at his side. "I'm here to put you back on schedule."

"My men are working as fast as they can," Lando said wearily. Hands on partners were always a major pain in the exhaust port.

Garak flashed Lando that smile of his. "Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them."

"The Death Star will be completed on schedule," Lando said, not cowed for a minute.

"I don't share your optimistic appraisal of the situation."

"Look, you're asking the impossible," Lando said. "This stuff has been neglected for decades, and in case you haven't noticed, it's a big damn station. You don't give us time, Garak, the only thing this battlestation's going to blow up is itself."

"Yes, they do tend to do that," Garak said dismissively. "The problem, Lando, is that the Oracle wants this station up and running on schedule."

"Oh, so the old Sith witch is calling the shots now," Lando said. "And here I thought this was your toy."

"The Oracle has offered me a splendid opportunity," Garak said. "I'm choosing to heed her advice in this case, but it requires this station to actually be working."

"What's she planning?"

"That's none of your concern," Garak said.

Lando grabbed Garak and pulled him to a halt. "I'm building this damn thing for you," he rumbled. "I think that makes it my concern."

Garak gave him a condescending grin. "I don't discuss day to day operations with the help."

"Then you better start shopping around for a new contractor," Lando said, "because I'm not going to help you if you keep me in the dark."

"You know, it's funny how a person with a complete lack of social skills like the Oracle is so effective at persuasion," Garak said finally. "She doesn't threaten you exactly... there's just something about her that says that saying yes would be much less painful than saying no."

"You think you can intimidate me by using her?" Lando scoffed.

"Have you any idea how rarely she leaves that little cave of hers?" Garak asked. "Can you imagine how irritated she would be if she had to come all the way back out here to remind you why you were doing this?"

"Let her come," Lando said defiantly.

Garak shot him another grin, then reached into his cloak and pulled out a hand-held holoprojector. He thumbed it on; a small recording of the Oracle appeared. "Are you sure that's what you want me to do, Calrissian?" she asked. "I hate to be interrupted."

"Cute," Lando said.

"Cute?" the recording replied.

"It responds to-"

"-to whatever you say to generate an appropriate response," the recording finished. "No, Calrissian. I am watching you, right now. You didn't think I'd let you get your hands on a Death Star and just leave you be, did you? No, I know everything... like the override you put into the firing mechanism, so you can disable the superlaser if your conscience started bothering you." Lando wore his poker face, but inside his stomach compressed to the size of a walnut. "You cannot hope to conspire against me, Calrissian, so you would be best served if you simply did the job given you, counted your money, and went on your way. Interfering in my plans is pointless; it doesn't stop me, it just annoys me. So, you will remove the override and stop trying to sabotage this battlestation. For each day the problem goes uncorrected, my Sith students will hunt down and murder ten of your company's employees. I'm sorry I can't threaten anyone else, but since all you love is money I see nothing else you could possibly value. Fix the problem, and don't oppose me further. Oh, and don't forget about our deadline... what it is for is not your concern, just complete your work on time." The hologram winked out.

"You never quite get used to that," Garak commented. Lando couldn't think of anything to say. Yes, he'd put the override in. It seemed like the only way he could help prevent this thing from causing another horrible catastrophe. "Well, Calrissian."

Lando swallowed; he had no choice but to give in. Even refusal would only mean a delay; they'd find someone else to do the work, and it seemed the Oracle truly was watching out for sabotage. Damn me, he thought, I'm going to have to do it. I'm going to have to resurrect this monster and unleash it on the galaxy. "We shall double our efforts," Lando croaked.
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Kalib cracked his knuckles; the echoes off the walls of his ship mixed creating a sound he found altogether pleasing. But it was just a moment's distraction; decisions still had to be made.

Over the millennia, Kalib had stowed away enough things around the galaxy to easily pick himself back up after any disaster, and in centuries to come, he'd look back at losing his ship and years of Vong imprisonment as a small footnote of little consequence, much the same way one might remember the annoyance of stepping in a puddle and soaking one foot. It was annoying, but not something to dwell on for the long term.

But now wasn't the long term, it was the short term, and Kalib was still angry. Carbon-freezing had been a wholly unpleasant experience, and even the venting with Solo and the Vorta girl hadn't satiated his appetite for payback. On the other hand, he needed to start acting his age and stop running around and hitting people with things... unless it was a direct response to an insult, of course. He had a reputation to think about.

So, with his ship in place and everything running smoothly, Kalib did what he was best at, and information trickled in. And now, now he had a big piece of the puzzle, something that could help somebody fight the Vong, which pleased him immensely. But who? He didn't have any connections to the Empire these days and wasn't too keen about making new ones under the circumstances. There was always Solo, but, he wasn't really sure where the human stood these days anyway. Yeah, he opposed the Vong, but he'd been getting moody near the end of their partnership. Luke Skywalker would have been a good choice, but apparently he hadn't lived long enough to return that favor he owed to Kalib.

Kalib sighed. Looked like there was only one choice, really. He opened up his communication signal and, cursing himself for doing this, tried raising the Borg.
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The docking procedures at Corellia were practically draconian in the wake of the riots, but the Millennium Falcon soon settled onto a platform. Her captain exited the ramp looking annoyed because, as far as Kilana was concerned, he was capable of only expression joy, anger, or annoyance. She had to rush to keep up with him as he walked out of the facility straight to the rental shop to pick up a swoop. "What about me?" Kilana asked.

"You crashed the last swoop I gave you," Han reminded her.

"People were shooting at me!" Kilana protested.

"They were shooting at me too, and I was fine. You ride with me." Kilana grumbled but took the seat behind Han. They lifted off and raced through the city until finally they reached the Reshad home. It wasn't the most luxurious, but it was clear that credits had grown in the Reshad's hands over the years. Anakin and Laudica had been waiting out front, and Han switched from annoyance to the more expected emotion as he hopped off the swoop and embraced them both.

"I wasn't sure you were going to make it," Anakin said.

"Are you kidding?" Han said. "Vong? Pshaw! Garak? Yawn! Corellian import regulations, okay, that scared me a little." He held them both again. "I just wish your mom was here to see this," Han said. "She'd be so thrilled for you," he said to Anakin. "And so proud to have you in the family," he said to Laudica.

"I'll try to live up to its reputation," Laudica said. Laudica went inside to introduce her soon to be father-in-law to the rest of the clan; Kilana stayed to park the swoop.

"Anakin," she asked before he could follow inside. "I am happy for you, but why now?"

"Why not now?" he asked.

"Well, there's a war going on. I thought you two were going to wait."

"There will always be some reason not to do it," Anakin said. "I could put this off forever, but why?"

"So many people have died," Kilana pointed out. "Aren't you afraid of what could happen?"

Anakin nodded. "Which is why we're doing this now. If it happens, it happens, but that means we should cherish the time we have all the more instead of waiting for something that may never come."

"But it sounds..." Kilana couldn't find the right word. "Risky," she settled for.

"That's why it's called 'love,' Kilana," Anakin said.
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Ben Skywalker opened his shirt and stared in the mirror. He was looking at a man who once commanded whole fleets, who razed worlds, whose name struck fear into the hearts of those across the galaxy who stood against him. Now he was looking at a man who had been broken, whose greatest accomplishments would always lie behind him.

Dead man walking...

There was no sign of it on his chest. The Oracle had reversed time, undone the blow so that the sword had never pierced his heart. At least, had undone the damage to the body. But Ben Skywalker had died... and he hadn't liked the experience.

Still, perhaps it would have been better to stay dead and be spared further humiliation. But now he was alive, and the body wanted to keep it that way. Life was all it had, and animal instincts told the brain that death was something to fear. And Ben could not resist them, because he was a Sith, and fear was a source of his strength. Except now his fear was in disappointing his master.

The hold she had on him now was nothing mystical; she did not supplant his mind or soul during his death and return to life. She held him because he knew, he laughed humourlessly at the words, through and through, that she was his better, that she was his master. Even if he opposed her, it would only be to invite further punishment on him.

But pain and fear fueled hate, and since directing it at his master would avail him nothing, he directed it against her enemies instead. If he suffered, others would suffer as well. It was all he had, so he would indulge in it... and perhaps in time he would find power-

No! He terminated that line of thought as quickly as it started. The Oracle knew of his duplicity with the Borg woman despite not even being in the same galaxy; plotting against her was useless. As much as it chafed, there was nothing he could do, or even dream of doing, to change the fact that she was the master and he a mere servant.

Ben closed his shirt and put on his cloak, then took up the mask of Revan. He'd made it as a symbol of pride; he was going to shake the galaxy in just the same way as it had been millennia ago. Despite the change in himself, he brought it with him now. It still had the power to fill his enemies with fear.

As always, the Oracle was in her laboratory. Ben walked in and stood in silence. "Well done," she said, no doubt referring to his submission before her. "You are learning quickly, my former apprentice." Ben nodded in respect. "My task for you, Skywalker, will be the penultimate step in toppling the Empire, so you must not fail me again."

"I won't, my master," he replied.

"Good. Your enemies are well beneath you, but they will be numerous. It will be a true challenge for a Sith of even your abilities."

"They will be destroyed, my master," Ben assured her. "Is it the Jedi?"

"No. They will be dealt with in time, but for now they still have the resources of the Empire to support them. We will tear down that corruption first, then we will dispose of them at our leisure."

"As you command, my master."
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Sebastian cried out and opened his eyes. Sleep gave way to reality quickly for him as he assessed the situation. He saw he was holding his lightsaber... and it was on... and sticking through the Borg Queen's chest.

"Hello, Sebastian," she said.

Sebastian looked between her, then the hand holding the blade, then her again. Then he switched the blade off. "Sorry," he said.

"I am only present as a hologram," the Queen said. "You did no harm."

Sebastian put the lightsaber away for the moment. "Why are you speaking to me like this instead of through the Collective? I thought this kind of thing was distracting."

"'Distracting' is inaccurate, but it does limit efficiency. Nevertheless, direct interaction seemed necessary in this case."

"I'm fine," Sebastian said sternly.

"Your behavior just now was irrational, abnormal, and potentially dangerous," the Queen observed.

"I had a bad dream."

"Your neurological activity has been unusual ever since your brush with the Vong bioship," the Queen pointed out. "It's possible they damaged you."

"No," Sebastian said.

"Your behavior would seem to indicate otherwise."

"Look, here's what happened," Sebastian said. "Whatever Vong... thing was there, plowed through my brain, okay? Like throwing a stick of dynamite into a swamp, all kinds of stuff is coming to the surface. Just give me some time."

"We are at war, Sebastian. Time is a luxury."

"You are not plugging me back into the Collective," Sebastian said. "That's it."

"Your mind is damaged-"

"I SAID NO!" Sebastian turned away, ashamed of the outburst. "Don't tempt me," he said quietly. "Don't tempt me with an easy answer. I can't do it, you understand? I can't let myself go back to that, or I'll never be able to leave again."

"I cannot understand your thinking." Sebastian's hands were shaking. He closed his eyes tight and gritted his teeth. The chair nearby rose up off the floor as he held out his hand. He closed his palm, and it slowly began to crush in mid-air. He tightened the fist until his knuckles were white, then the mass of twisted metal dropped to the floor. "Or your action," the Queen added.

"I'm fine now," Sebastian said, getting up. "Just needed to get that out of my system."

The Queen looked him over, but it was just for Sebastian's benefit; she had all the sensors of the ship to examine him from head to toe. "The mercenary, Kalib, has made contact. He has information to trade regarding the Vong bioships. Because of the history between his people and ours, he has requested to speak only with you."

Sebastian nodded. Work, that was exactly what he needed right now. "Where is he?"

"He has sent us coordinates for a rendezvous," the Queen said. "An uninhabited world in the Delta Quadrant. Your ship has already changed course."

"Good," Sebastian said. "Good, thank you."

"Thanks are not needed; this will further our war effort against the Vong." Sebastian rubbed his face to try to wipe away the exhaustion. "Is there anything you require?"

Sebastian lowered his fingers. "A new chair," he said.

"I will provide two, in case you have further need to remove something from your system." And the worst part, Sebastian thought, was that she wasn't joking with him. What's happened to me? he wondered. Is it all too much? A shiver passed through him. Have I finally just gone crazy?

Excellant chapter. I liked the Borg joke but not a joke.

Through re-reading "Blood of Heroes" I notcied Sisko says you deserve to die for your sins and you will... Well I was thinking Ben has died now. Was Sisko refering to this Death or the more permant kind?

Oh and...1st Post!!11one.

Hooray! Finally more Chuckfic!

We're not woooorthy!!!

Another great chapter. I especailly liked the beginning with its reference to Return of the Jedi. I really feel for Lando. Anything he can do, Janeway will forsee. At this point, there's not even a lot he can do to delay.

All hail Chuck!

Part XXII

"Sebastian?"

Sebastian closed his eyes, visibly relieved. "Thank the Force; this place was starting to get to me."

"Well, I couldn't very well say no to you, could I? You need to talk?"

"Yeah," Sebastian said, and despite what he said he seemed even more weighed down than he had been. "The Vong bioships... we know all about them now, and we know that this war isn't over by a longshot. We can still lose if we're not careful."

"Then I guess we'd better be careful."

"But that's the question. How can we win this war without dooming ourselves in the process? Can we pull it off?"

"I don't understand."

"The Vong have pushed us close to the brink many times," Sebastian explained. "We have the resources of two galaxies at our disposal, and it's still proving to barely be adequate. Why?"

"You tell me."

"Because we have been fighting amongst ourselves," Sebastian said. "There's been no Unity, there's been only chaos, and our enemies have exploited that."

"Well, at least you have the Borg. They're masters of bringing order to chaos."

Sebastian nodded, but there was a cloud over him while he did so. "Yeah... thanks to me."

"I don't understand. What's wrong?"

Sebastian took a deep breath. "I rendezvoused with Kalib, the information broker my father had told me about, on some world. It was dead, but..."

"But what?"

"But it shouldn't have been. There was evidence all around us that it had been home to a vast variety of ecologies, but my scans could pick up nothing but some microscopic organisms."

"Well, disasters do happen, Sebastian."

"But there was no sign of disaster, that was the puzzling part. And there was no trace of the dead. It was as if someone carried away all the living creatures on an entire planet."

"How is that possible?"

"That's what I wondered too," Sebastian said. "And what this had to do with the Vong, since Kalib had brought me to this world." Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck as he seemed to think. "He'd landed on the planet; I beamed down, alone. I knew of him through family stories, and through the Borg's own experiences. He was pretty much what I expected. Gruff, imposing, but nevertheless, he was there. His price, a bit of the Borg's information supply, was minor. He was there because, deep down, I think he wanted to help us. He just couldn't bring himself to admit it."

"Well, given the animosity between the Borg and his people, that's no surprise."

"Anyway, Kalib explained what he'd pieced together..."
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"Here's how it works," Kalib said. "You know about those doppelgangers Nom Anor set up, right? Passes for a person in every way until the signal is given, and then the thing goes completely kriffing berserk."

"I ran into one," Sebastian admitted. "Tried to bite my head off. Actually it almost did."

"Yeah, well, what the Vong have cooked up now is an even bigger take on that exact idea." He was unusually quiet as he looked across the barren landscape.

"What's going on?" Sebastian finally asked. "What's got you so spooked?"

"I'm not spooked," Kalib said sharply. "Just- just funny the way memory works is all." He seemed introspective for another moment. "Your pop ever tell you about me and the Borg? Kriff, what am I saying, doesn't matter if he said or not, you were part of the Collective. You remember, don't you?"

"Species 01," Sebastian said. "Nothing beyond a little basic history. The Borg mind doesn't work that way."

"I was there at the beginning," Kalib explained. "Saw the first glimmer of megalomania in their eyes. Us against the Collective, and we won."

"Yeah, that I know."

"But we knew the Borg was still out there," Kalib explained. "You -them- -whatever- went off to lick their wounds. Tracking all of you down seemed too great a bother, and one of our touched prophesied about the downfall of the Borg anyway. So we left them alone."

"What does this have to do with the Vong?" Sebastian asked.

"Look kid, when you get to be my age you learn two things. One, you can ramble on about nothing whenever the mood strikes you, because you've earned it. And two, don't make the same mistakes twice."

"So which one is this about, the rambling, or the mistake?"

"Both," Kalib admitted. "It had to be a hundred thousand years ago, but the trick of memory is that when things are so far away, it's hard to keep them separated. But I remember standing on an empty world. All the cities, all the machines, all the people, they'd been scooped off the planet. Any guesses who was responsible?"

Sebastian glared at him. "The Borg have changed."

Kalib scooped up a handful of soil and sifted it through his huge fingers. "Yeah, I know. I read your press release."

"Then what's the point?"

Kalib watched the last of the soil trickle out. "You're an intelligent person," Kalib said. "What are you afraid of?"

Sebastian was confused. "Are you saying the Borg may-"

"No, no, I asked you a question. Tell me what things you are afraid of."

"How about none of your damn business," Sebastian said.

"Knowledge comes at a price, kid," Kalib said.

"Yeah, but why that? So you can trade it to the Vong? Garak? Or just personal interest?"

"Vong was the first thing on your mind, right?" Kalib said. "Still scare you, don't they."

"I know everything I need to face the Vong," Sebastian said, probably more forcefully than necessary.

"Because you are afraid of them," Kalib said. "Deep down in your guts. Doesn't matter how much of a Jedi or a Borg you are, there's no shaking that feeling."

"All right, I've had enough," Sebastian said, activating his comlink.

"You'll leave rather than listen to what I have to say?" Kalib asked. "I can tell you all about what the Vong are doing."

Sebastian glared at him, then thumbed the comlink off. "Then let's get to the point."

"I just made it," Kalib said. "You're an intelligent person. When confronted by something you're afraid of, you seek to understand it, because by understanding it, you assume you can somehow control the object of your fear. And if you can do that, then there's nothing to be afraid of."

"I don't need a psychological analysis," Sebastian said darkly.

"Yeah, well, that's debatable," Kalib said. "Point is, you're not the only one who acts that way. Your old buddy, Nom Anor, is also a smart guy, and very, very afraid of your friends."

"He thinks the Borg can stop him?"

"No, I mean past tense," Kalib said. "When he arrived, the Borg were already gone, but the stories were still there. Everything they had done... it was the sum of all the Vong fear and hate the most. Just like you learned all about the Vong because of your fear, Nom Anor studied the Borg. And borne of the examination was an entirely new way of approaching this invasion of theirs. Do you think these duplicates and living starships were part of the Vong plan? He developed them by mimicking the Borg."

"Why mimic us when he hates us so?" Sebastian asked.

"Eh, when you get obsessed, rational thought takes a back seat to your ambitions. Look at what the Borg do: they assimilate people. Why?"

"Biological diversity," Sebastian said, "and the expansion of knowledge."

"Turning it against their enemies," Kalib said.

"Yes," Sebastian admitted. "Just like the duplicates have."

"Right. Then there's the collective consciousness; all those drones linked up."

"It provides a way of devoting many minds to solving individual problems, and controlling the actions of ships and personnel at maximum efficiency."

"So the duplicates hook up and form a Vong collective consciousness."

Sebastian nodded; it was all making sense. "Which is what I felt when I tried entering the mind of that ship."

"Yup. Then there's the assimilation of technology... except the Vong don't use technology like the Borg do..."

"No, it's biotechnology; except their biotechnology is way more advanced than anything we've seen. The only thing they'd need is-" Sebastian froze; the thought was too horrifying to complete out loud.

"That's right," Kalib said. "Raw material. Biomatter."

"How can they do this?" Sebastian said in horror. "Strip an entire world of its biomass?"

"The duplicates," Kalib said. "Thousands... millions maybe. Probably some variation, launched at a planet with only one thought in mind: eat. Until finally the things consume every living thing on the planet, or anything worth getting ahold of. Then it's a simple enough matter to gather them up and bring them back to a processing center to serve as raw material." Kalib shrugged. "And with that, then there's no telling what you can do."

"The fleet," Sebastian said. "No wonder they could gather enough ships to take down an Eclipse."

"Yup. So, looks like you Borg have a copy-cat on your hands. The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

"Well, we'll stop them, obviously," Sebastian said.

Kalib nodded. "Right. It's in the Borg's best interest." He looked at the expanse again.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not going to do it because it's right," Kalib said. "You're going to do it because the Borg always look at what will effect them. Self-interest. No matter how much you try to change them, Sebastian, that's still at the center of what they are. The Borg have no concept of right for its own sake. Everything 'good' they've done has been because they're looking after their own skin, one way or another. Your public relations machine is just a smokescreen to cover that up."

"Who are you to talk?" Sebastian demanded. "You're an information broker, and you've deliberately stood aside while atrocities are committed because they have no impact on you."

Kalib shrugged. "I'm a bastard," he admitted. "But if I'd known, way back when I stood on that planet the Borg had robbed of every person and resource that I was somehow responsible for that... I would have done something to make up for it... I'd have tried to set it right because that is the right thing to do. But the Borg won't see it that way. The havoc the Vong created, and the fact that they’re still a very genuine threat to the galaxies, are a result of the Borg's own past, a past you cannot pretend to shed just because they pay their taxes and donate a few credits to some hospital. You haven't changed them Sebastian, just changed how they do what they've always done."

"And that's not enough?" Sebastian demanded.

"It's something," Kalib said. "But don't be an idiot; you know as well as I do it ain't enough. After a hundred thousand years, there probably never will be enough. You just seem to have bought into your own publicity a bit too much. Your Borg friends; they're not heroes, just a bunch of people looking to save their own ass."

"Isn't that what a hero is?" Sebastian said. "Someone who has just as much to lose, who steps forward and does something about it? A man who carries a cripple out of a burning building isn't a hero because he's getting himself out at the same time? The Borg aren't perfect, but at least they're not acting like the Malon, preying on those who are trying to fight the Vong-"

"Right, and the Borg are giving the Empire droids out of the kindness of their hearts," Kalib said. "Again, self-interest. If it suited the Borg's needs, you'd turn your back on the Empire, right?"

"Without the Empire, who will stop the Vong?" Sebastian said. "No one has the strength to do it."

"Oh, I don't know," Kalib said. "You've got how many drones now? How many ships? How advanced technology? How much money? If the Empire fell, the Borg would stand the best chance of anyone of eliminating the Vong threat."

"Good," Sebastian said. "Then we have that comfort."

"Comfort?!" Kalib said in shock. "The day the Borg wake up, or whatever the hell you call it, and find out they are the undisputed military power in the galaxy again? What's to stop them from taking over the galaxies?"

"I'm not interested in rhetorical questions," Sebastian said moodily.

"It's not rhetorical," Kalib said, "you just don't have an answer."

"The Borg have changed!"

"Because the Empire made them change!" Kalib shot back. "Because there was no other way for those selfish bastards to survive! If the Borg become the strongest, what can you possibly do to hold them back? Another team-building exercise? Some nice new brochures?"

"I'll take care of it," Sebastian said sharply.

"Don't be an idiot," Kalib said. "One person cannot hold back the Collective."

"It's happened before," Sebastian said.

"Yeah, but I'll bet you a billion systems your Borg friends dismantled the relay station, now that the area is open and the weakness exposed. Isn't that right?" Sebastian said nothing. "Yeah, thought so. Wake up kid; you are not in control here. The Borg will do whatever they think is best for them because that is what an emotionless cyborg does."

"Then what should I do?" Sebastian demanded. "Let the Vong win? Assimilation is better than extinction."

"Who the kriff are you to make that call for hundreds of billions of worlds?" Kalib asked.

"Just a man," Sebastian said. "But the decision seems to be in my hands, and worthy or not, I've got to make it, one way or another."

Kalib was quiet, then started to laugh quietly. "I like you, kid. Try not to let your friends take over the universe." And Kalib turned and walked across the barren wastes of the dead world to his ship.
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"Is that what has you so upset?"

Sebastian shrugged. "It's everything. The more I try to fix it, the worse the problem seems to get. Every step forward reveals just how much further I have to go. The job is so huge, the stakes so high... "

"You're right though, you're just one man. You just have to do what you can."

"But will it be enough?" Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair. "Then I think about what Kalib said, and try as I might, I don't have an answer. What if it's true? What if the Empire does fall, and the Borg find themselves the dominant power in the galaxy? Will they throw aside everything we've done and go back to the old ways, overrunning worlds like locusts?"

"You can't predict the future... it's in motion, remember?"

"But I brought them back! If it happens, it'll be all my fault."

"Is that what bothers you?"

"Of course not! But that just makes the whole thing worse. Everyone warned me, even you, and I thought I could do it right, thought I could reshape my people into something good for the galaxy. Now I wonder if I just resurrected a monster." Sebastian ran his hand down his face. "And I'm so tired, and so alone, and I don't know if I can keep doing this. Every day is like a marathon now, another endurance run. Maybe I'm just going crazy." He sighed. "What can I do? What more can they expect- I'm sorry, that sounds a little too self-pitying."

"It's natural."

"I'm just unsure of everything now," Sebastian said. "What do you think?"

Jorri patted his hand kindly. "Don't worry," she said, "I don't think you're crazy."

Looks like Sebastion needs another smack upside the head.

Jorri????

Weird...And I know I need more so I know what on earth's wrong with 'Bastion now

I liked that chapter (wondering a little about Jori now though). I kind of wondered about the Borg. They can do everything so much more efficiently than anyone else. There is nothing stopping them from keep on growing. Now I'm really curious to see if they go back to their old ways. If they do, it looks like we'll have both the Borg and the Empire go full circle from the bad guys to the at least semi-heros (it still amazes me how you did that), back to the bad guys.

Thanks alot guys, I really appreciate the feedback.

With next week being the holiday and all, I figured I'd post two chapters this week so that I could skip next week. Don't worry, though, it's not a cliff-hanger.

Anyway, part 23 will be along in a couple minutes, and part 24 will pick up on Dec. 1.

Part XXIII


"I don't think you're crazy."

Sebastian squeezed Jorri's hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you. There's no one else I can really talk to." The word "soul mate" didn't begin to do the feeling of being with her justice.

"So, why don't you tell me how you feel, Bastian?"

Sebastian wet his lips as he thought about it. "I'm just so lonely, Jorri. I never imagined I could feel this alone."

"I don't understand," Jorri said, sliding closer to him. "You're with millions of Borg, right? How can you feel alone among so many people? Don't they talk to you?"

"Yes."

"Provide for you?"

"Yes."

"Do whatever you ask?"

"Yes."

"Then how can you be alone?"

Sebastian hesitated. "It came to me the day I realized that I was never going to experience any happiness that did not originate within me."

"What do you mean?"

"If I want something, something to make me happy, I'll make it happen, or I'll ask the Borg to do it. But whatever it is, even if they provide it, it will only be because I want it." He was quiet for a while. "The times I would wake up, and you'd be rubbing my back for me, without thought, just a spontaneous gesture of affection... I never realized how precious a thing that was. Receiving something simply for the purpose of bringing you joy... that's something that can only come from someone who genuinely cares for you."

"And that's the problem," Jorri observed. "Because by their nature the Borg can't care for you in that capacity."

Sebastian nodded. "Anything I want, I know they would provide to me. I can surround myself with joy, if I desired it. But it's just an empty thing, Jorri; it's no different than locking myself in a holodeck and satisfying my whims, it's just mechanics, nothing more. Because there's no emotion behind it besides my own."

"I see," Jorri said. "I can imagine how lonely that could be. It'd be like walking around and telling everyone that tomorrow was your birthday, but then when it comes it doesn't matter about the cake and the gifts and the friends, you know it's only there because you asked for it; if you hadn't said anything, it would never have happened. It's stripped of its meaning."

"That's exactly it."

Jorri patted his hand again. "You could leave," she pointed out.

"That wouldn't change anything," Sebastian said. "The Borg are not the problem. My life is the problem, and it's not a problem I can fix."

"You'd think that that would be the one problem you could fix," Jorri said.

"Yeah," Sebastian replied, then lounged back. He looked grim. “You’d think that would be something we could control.”

"But sometimes we're left alone," Jorri said. "And we don't have any control over it."

"We should."

"But we don't. You can't fix everything. Some things, when they're broken, just can't be mended."

"Like people."

"Like people,” Jorri agreed. “People die, Bastian. You can try to stop it, but once it happens, you can't undo it." Sebastian said nothing. "I died," Jorri reminded him.

Sebastian turned away. "Yeah," he said, eyes downcast. "Yeah, I know."

"It wasn't your fault. Don’t blame yourself."

Sebastian covered his face. "You were the most important person in my life," he said, his voice shaky. "I couldn't save you..."

"You can't save everyone, Bastian," Jorri said.

"I'm not asking to save everyone, just you."

"Bastian," Jorri said, "look at me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

A sob slipped out. "It hurts too much."

"It will always hurt, Bastian." Jorri said. "I'm sorry to say that. But with time, it will hurt less, but not if you keep running away from it, if you keep trying to pretend it didn't happen."

"Jorri," Sebastian said, squeezing her hand with his tightly, "I understand now why my father did what he did over the Borg homeworld. Because there is no sin in the universe so base and vile that I wouldn't commit to bring you back to me."

"Don't do this," Jorri said. "We loved one another, and that was a beautiful thing. Don't turn it into something wicked."

"It's such a little thing," Sebastian said. "Why couldn't you and I be happy? Two people, soon to be three, and the universe couldn't leave us be? It's unfair."

"Life's unfair, Bastian," Jorri said. "We weren't the first, and we won't be the last."

"But I would have given anything else!"

"But you don't get to make those choices, Bastian. Sometimes you have to just accept that there are things beyond even your control. Things which the Jedi, not even the Borg, can accomplish." She put her hand on his shoulder. "Look at me." He screwed his eyes shut. "You never allowed yourself to really say goodbye, to really grieve. You joined the Borg, and the pain ended, but now you're back and you're trying to pretend it's all over. You're still living in the fantasy world, Bastian, still thinking that maybe if you kill enough Vong that I'll somehow magically be in your life again. Bastian," she kissed his cheek, "I'm not coming back." His eyes were still closed but he nodded, just a little. "Look at me."

Sebastian finally forced his eyes open and turned and looked Jorri in the face. The floodgates opened. A decade of emotion was bottled up inside him, and he couldn't hold it back any longer. He put his head on Jorri's shoulder and clung to her, weeping without words while she gently stroked his back.

"Ev- Ev- Ev- Everyday I w-wake up," Sebastian got out eventually, "and you're n-n-not there. I d-d-don't know if I can keep doing that, Jorri. It- It- It's my fault! I thought we'd have time, and I squ-squandered it!!!"

"Shh," Jorri said, "it's all right."

"I w-wasn't there for you when you were alive," Sebastian said, "and I w-w-wasn't there to save you! I'm so suh-sorry!"

"I know Sebastian," Jorri said. "Because I love you. I always understood."

"Please don't leave me! Please!"

"You know I'm already gone, Bastian."

"I can't go on alone, Jorri," Sebastian said. "I don't mean the war... I can't go on living without you!"

"If you love me, Bastian, then you will." Sebastian cried; Jorri rocked him a little. "You won't stop thinking about my death, Bastian, and you're letting it overshadow my life. The times that we did have for each other. The sunset on Tatooine, our wedding on Earth... that night on leave on Chandrilla, where we loved each other so much that we created life. Our lives together were short, Bastian, but there was so much joy. Remember it, please. Stop watching me die and start watching me live."

"That juh-just reminds me of what we've lost."

"It's not lost, Bastian. True there won't be new experiences, but no Sith can take away what we had, can steal away those moments of love and happiness that we shared. You want to prove you love me?"

"Yes."

"Then understand that you don't have to be strong all the time." She pushed Sebastian back so she can look him in the face. "Stop listening to the Vong."

"What?" Sebastian asked.

And then he could hear what had always been there, a quiet background noise that was so much a part of his life that he had tuned it out of his conscious mind. It swelled as he focused in on it, so that it was soon an overwhelming chant. "Unworthy! Unworthy! Unworthy!" And overlaid on it was his own voice. "Be strong. Be strong. Be strong."

Sebastian closed his eyes, more tears joining the ones that had blazed the trail. "Or they'll take it all away." He sniffed. "Be strong, or they'll take Jorri away.... be strong..."

"I didn't die because you were unworthy of me, Bastian," Jorri said. "I died because sometimes there are things that nobody in the universe can stop."

"If you're not strong, you'll be alone... only the strong are worthy."

"I didn't leave you because you weren't strong enough."

"If you're not strong, no one will love you... only the strong are worthy of love."

"You are strong, Bastian," Jorri said. "But that's not why I loved you, and you know that."

"If you're not strong, you'll lose everything. They're going to take it all away from you.”

"One man against the Vong and the Sith," Jorri said. "You didn't lose us because you were weak, Bastian. You tried."

"It wasn't enough," Sebastian said.

"But it was all you had," Jorri said. "No one can expect more from you than everything, why do you hold yourself to an impossible standard?"

"How can a man hope to save two galaxies when he can't save the woman he loves?" Sebastian asked.

"Maybe you're not as alone as you feel?"

Sebastian's grief gave way to anger. "Why should I bother?" he demanded. "They weren't there when I needed them, why should I be there for them?!"

"Because the boy that I loved wouldn't stand by and do nothing," Jorri said. "Because it was his kindness, his generosity of spirit, that drew me to him. You had a power over me you can't begin to imagine, but it never had to do with how strong or weak you were." She took hold of his hands. "I followed you, Gorren followed you, Kilana followed you, the Alliance was built by you. Don't you see, the same thing that's destroying you inside is what's going to help you do the impossible."

"What are you talking about?"

"You keep saying that it's unfair. You keep saying that it's not the way things should be. That's the point! You can look at the universe and see the way things are, but also see the way it should be! And you have the talent to share others in your vision, so that no price would be too high, so that no one can refuse you. Look at you, you’ve even managed to tame the Borg!” Jorri looked at him with pride, and the look made him smile despite everything. “What’s driving you is that you are the biggest obsessive-compulsive there is, because there's an untidy universe, and you have to fix it, and you know how to fix it. Remember when you'd play a dozen or more games all at once; it was 'all just one big game?'"

"This isn't a game, Jorri," Sebastian lamented. "You're dead!"

"But the point is there, Bastian. You can look at the big picture and the small picture at the same time. You can see how the little pieces, completely independent of the little pieces elsewhere, are nevertheless part of the entire problem. And you know how to move them to solve those problems. Some things are beyond you Sebastian like bringing me back to you... you are not a super-being, you don't have that power. But saving the galaxies-"

"I am sick to death of hearing that," Sebastian finally said. "Why is this being demanded of me? I only want one thing, Jorri, and that's too much to ask for?"

"You're not doing this for anyone but yourself, Bastian," Jorri said. "There is no one out there compelling you to do this, no one that you can think to negotiate with for your part in this. The force compelling you to fulfill this destiny is you, and that's why it can't give you what you want."

"But," Sebastian fumbled for the words. "But if the universe is so uncaring, then why bother at all?"

"You tell me," Jorri said. "Like I said, you're the one making yourself do this. You’ve volunteered to take the responsibility."

“I know.” Sebastian closed his eyes and leaned against her. "But sometimes... it's such a burden..."

Jorri nodded, then kissed him. "Then put it down for a moment, Bastian. I told you, you don't have to be strong all the time." She adjusted her position and laid his head down on her lap, stroking it gently. "For a little while, let yourself be the little boy you were before the Vong took you away. Allow yourself a moment's weakness, so that when the time comes, when you need to be strong, you'll be able to find it."

Sebastian laid there, feeling oh so content. “Is this a dream?”

“It could be; you are asleep, after all. But it could be a vision in the Force. Or the Borg causing unintended feedback in your brain.” She kissed his cheek. “Or maybe the universe isn’t as uncaring as you think... maybe it can’t give you everything, but it’ll give you what you need.”

Sebastian closed his eyes. "I wish you'd be there when I wake up."

"Shh... I wish so too, my love. But a bit of stolen time is all we have, let's not squander it wishing we had more."

Two of Six stroked Sebastian's head. A hologram of the Borg Queen stood nearby, observing. "His neurological activity seems to be normalizing for the moment," the Queen observed.

Two nodded. "But there is no certainty that this is anything more than a temporary correction. Perhaps if we re-establish our link-"

"Sebastian would resent it," the Queen pointed out.

Two nodded again. "Individuality is impairing Sebastian's efficiency."

"That is true. But we can do nothing about it unless he requests it of us."

"We can compel him," Two pointed out.

The Queen shook her head. "Whether he knows it or not, he re-made us in his image. Such a violation is against our nature now."

"I am uncertain if our thoughts are one on this," Two said.

"Your biological distinctiveness did not experience being an outcast," the Queen said. "Sebastian's human counterpart was taken, and that loss has damaged him. We will provide whatever aide a Borg outcast requires."

"He chose to be outcast."

"Only from us."

"Nevertheless, the principle remains. We all must serve the Collective."

"And the Collective must serves us all," the Queen said. "We owe it to him."

"It is inefficient, and it is not logical," Two said.

The Queen opened her mouth and hesitated. "Sometimes... logic is irrelevant."

Woah, Borg being sneaky.

I'm trying to think of any plot twist that you haven't already done and you just keep on inventing new ones!

Bad fanfic authors make known characters act unbelievably by making them do things they'd never do. Good fanfic authors make characters believable by having them do things they'd do normally. Great fanfic authors make characters do things they'd never do on the series believably.

Once again Chuck, you da man.

Thanks once again for a chapter. I like knowing that mabe the Borg really can change. It's insperational even if its fiction. Thanks for a very welcome enjoyment after a very painful physics test. Enjoy your Thanksgiving.

Sweet but very very strange.

So first you think, okay, Sebastian is playing with his fantasy-family again. Sort of sweet and sad, yet also disturbing in a "Screw reality, hallucinations for the win!" sort of way.

Then you realize it's the Borg Queen messing around with his head, and you want to punch her in the face a few dozen times.

Then you think about it for a minute, and you realize that for the Borg to even think hypothetically in the terms hallucino-Jorri was speaking, there must be more changes in them than just hiring a lawyer and printing pamphlets.

Very interesting.

Thanks guys, I'm glad you like it.

Let me go on record on this part and say that as far as the story is concerned, there is no correct answer to what happened here besides what the reader thinks. In other words, if you want to think the Borg were messing with his head, that works. If you want to think it was just a dream, that works. If you want to think the Force gave him a vision to prepare him for the journey ahead, that works. If you're romantic and want to think that maybe someone or something took a little pity on Sebastian and let him speak to the real Jorri in his sleep, that works. Or maybe he really is just going crazy. The story will not contradict your interpretation.

The only thing I will say about this part is that the intent of Two stroking Sebastian's head was to serve as a counterpart to the earlier lament. They may be emotionless, but they can recognize Sebastian's need for physical touch for the sake of his mental being... that in some small way, despite what Jorri said, they can "care" for Sebastian in that way.

Unrelated to that, but since I'm in the neighborhood: this chapter wasn't about a cheap tug at the heartstrings. If the Oracle succeeds in toppling the Empire, then the Borg would be the dominant power, as Kalib said. Is Sebastian the only one keeping the Borg involved in the war effort, or the only one that can keep them from reverting to their previous assimilation tactics? Can his grief and vulnerability be a weapon against him, and them? Given family history, is he going to make a wrong choice?

Part XXIV

It was the day before the wedding, and Han was looking into a few last minute details when he got a visit from CorSec. He never really got on with them, and with the tightening of security, they were even less pleasant to deal with than usual. "What's the problem?" Han asked, knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"There's an issue with your cargo," the lead one said. The other agent just stood behind him and looked intimidating, because that's a fun job that requires little in the way of thought or exertion.

"I didn't have any cargo," Han said. "Just personal equipment that was itemized in the report I gave you."

"Then there's an error in your list," the CorSec agent said. "You and your companion will have to come with us until this is straightened out.

Han weighed his options. The Reshad's had connections, so they might be able to iron this out. Then again, this was obviously just a misunderstanding, one he could probably clear up in a couple of hours. He'd hate to screw up Anakin's wedding for something like this. "Okay," he said, and he and Kilana were brought down to the security office at the docking bay where the Falcon had landed. They met with yet another agent, apparently higher up because now both of the others were assuming the "I'm intimidating" stance.

"Mr. Solo," he said with a nod. "Nil Comens, CorSec. There's a serious protocol issue about your cargo."

"I don't have any cargo," Han said again.

"Then it wasn't on-"

"What exactly are we talking about here?" Han asked, getting irritated.

Comens didn't look happy about being interrupted. "Your droid, Mr. Solo."

"Droid?" Han said. "I don't have any droid."

"It was on your ship," Comens said. "It says you were transporting it."

"I don't have any droid," Han repeated.

"And it's missing a restraining bolt," Comens said. "Docking procedure is quite clear that all off-world droids must be fitted with a restraining bolt unless you get special permission."

"I - don't - have - any - droid," Han said again, hoping the point would sink in.

"Perhaps you'd like to inspect the unit in question," Comens said, gesturing towards the adjacent door. Han stormed to it, Kilana close behind. He entered the room, and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Greetings," the droid said.

"You?!" Han said in shock. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm in a bit of a spot," the droid said. "Sorry to inconvenience you."

"Who is this?" Kilana said.

The droid turned to her. "Ah, you said 'who' and not 'what,'" the droid remarked. "I like you already, humanoid. I would offer to buy you a drink if we were in a bar, tavern, inn, or social club, but as we are not, and I have no credits to spare, I won't. But it's the thought that counts, or so I'm told."
--------------------------------------------------------------

The Defiance, current flagship of the Empire, is an Executor-class star destroyer. Miles and miles of corridors, millions of personnel, thousands of rooms... it didn't matter how good security was. With a ship that size, it was impossible to keep Sith from finding a way to breach it. At the moment, they were in one of the cargo holds. Ben Skywalker took out the mask of Revan and slipped it on.

At Ben's side stood Molly O'Brien. After what happened, she was the only Sith he felt he could trust not to try and kill him. In some ways, it could be considered a failing, but at the moment, even a Sith Lord needed a friend. "Don't fight unless we must," he told her. "We don't want to tip our hand too soon. The war room is several kilometers away; we dare not let them escape."

"Yes, master," Molly said. She was also the only one to still call him that.

Ben took his lightsabers into hand and took a deep breath. Once we've succeeded, he thought, I can kill as many of them as he like. The thought pleased him and he set off for the war room, Molly close behind.
--------------------------------------------------------------

Han was fuming. "Roger, what the hell were you doing?"

"Don't you think introductions are in order first?" Roger said. "As I understand humanoid social discourse, that is usually what takes place. As in, 'Hello! This is-'"

"Shut - up!" Han said.

"Kilana," Kilana said by introduction. "And your name is Roger, I take it?"

"Yes, Kilana. First and last."

"Er, what?"

"That's his name," Han said, trying to get this out of the way. "Roger Roger."

"So much goodness one name wasn't enough," Roger said. "And you said 'his,'" he beamed at Han, which was difficult for a droid unless it involved a laser.

"I meant 'its,'" Han shot back.

"I still have feelings," Roger said. "Kilana, you are very kind, so please call me Roger. But you, Han, tsk tsk, should stick with the more formal Mr. Roger."

"Good," Han said, at least pleased that the silliness was over. "Now what's going on? Why do they think you were on my ship?"

"Because I was," Roger said.

"What?"

"Excuse me," Kilana said. "I'm sorry, but what's going on? How do you know each other?"

"From the Rebellion," Roger said.

"That was a very long time ago," Han said. "And I didn't much care for the experience then, I'm not interested in re-living those days."

"Come on, Solo," Roger said. "We had some good times."

"You gave our position away on Prakith," Han said sharply.

"I was just trying to be friendly," Roger said. "You humans do hold your grudges. No one was hurt."

"You almost botched the operation!"

"Oh, but I helped in so many others." Roger's voice somehow managed to sound pleading. "Why must you hold my one failing against me?"

"One failing?! You were a disaster!"

"No one's perfect."

"You especially. Why do you think Leia transferred you?"

"She said my talents could be better used elsewhere."

"In the service of the Empire, probably."

"That's cruel," Roger said. "Mr. Skywalker was very kind by comparison. How is he, anyway?"

"He's dead," Han said.

"Oh, well, I guess he could be doing better."

"That's not very nice," Kilana said. "I'm starting to see Han's point of view."

"I'm sorry," Roger said. "I have trouble understanding this interplay still. But I do try," he said to Han.

"All you try is my patience," Han said.

"What kind of droid are you, anyway?" Kilana asked. "I've never seen your make before."

Roger seemed to take a bit of pride in the answer to the question. "I am an experimental battle droid designed by the Techno Union in service to the CIS. I was liberated from their lab and rebuilt by members of the Rebel Alliance to aid in their revolt against the Empire."

Kilana looked him up and down. He had a barrel chest, and his lower legs and forearms were oversized. His head, however, seemed like a heavily modified protocol droid's. A permanent smile had been painted on at some point, and a pair of moveable eyebrows were over each eye socket. When they moved one way, he looked happy; another, he looked psychotic. He seemed to be both at the same time.

"The CIS lost the war," Han said, "if you need further proof of what I'm saying."

"But the rebellion won," Roger pointed out.

"Fine, fine!" Han said. "Now just tell me why you were on my ship."

"Well, I had to escape," Roger said. "I was trapped for years on that world while the Vong were in control." His voice became edged with despair. "Do you have any idea what the Vong do to droids?! It was a nightmare! When I found your ship, I had to take my chance to get off that world!"

"The planet has been liberated, you moron!"

"Well I was hardly in the loop about that," Roger said. "All I knew was that things had become very unpleasant in Mr. Roger's neighborhood, and that I had to take whatever opportunity presented itself. Look, I stayed out of your way, didn't I? I could have overridden your lockout and stolen the ship, but I didn't. I'm not a bad droid, Solo."

"He has a point, Han," Kilana said. "If he was a humanoid instead of a droid, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"He's a walking bad luck charm," Han shot back.

"Let's just get him properly squared away," Kilana said. "It won't take long, I'm sure."

"No," Han said. "Because then he becomes our responsibility, and I do not need that hassle."

"But I can be useful," Roger said. "I've made some improvements since we last met. I have an extensible limb now."

"What, in your arms?" Kilana asked.

"No."

"Your legs."

"Guess again." He was greeted by silence. "Give up? It's-"

"I do not need this," Han said.

"Come on, Han," Kilana said. "He's kind of endearing in a weird way. I'll take responsibility for him."

"No!"

"Please?"

"Would you like to see it?" Roger asked.

"Roger, you're not helping," Kilana said.

"Listen, I have experience against the Vong," Roger explained. "I managed to survive for years under their nose. I can help you."

Han folded his arms. "And how do you know that we're interested in the Vong?"

"Well, I... read it in your logs, while I was, erm, trying to override your lockout to steal your ship." Roger looked sheepish. Han threw up his arms in defeat. "Sorry."

"If we get you out of this," Kilana said, "then you have to promise to do what we say, all right? You have to help us."

"I don't want his help," Han said in exasperation.

Kilana took Han's arm and led him aside. "Look," she said. "Sebastian didn't have to get me out of that pleasure pit, he did it because, inconvenient though it may be, he knew it was the right thing. I'm just doing the same thing."

"Roger is a menace," Han said.

"If we're not doing this to help those who desperately need our help, what are we doing then?" They both turned back to Roger, who waved. "I'll be responsible for him."

Han rolled his eyes. "If he causes any problems," he warned, "I'm dumping you both on the nearest planet I can find."

"I won't disappoint you," Roger said. They turned back and he waved again. "Enhanced hearing," he said.

"I already regret this," Han said, heading out of the room to take care of things with CorSec.

"You'll probably have to wear a restraining bolt for the time being," Kilana said.

Roger purred. "You are a naughty girl. Are you sure you don't want to see-"

"No! I mean, no thank you."
--------------------------------------------------------------

Annika sat up as the door opened. The Oracle entered. It was a simple statement that offered dozens of possible outcomes. Was she here to interrogate her, talk to her, humiliate her... whatever it was, it was unlikely to be pleasant. "Have you spoken with the Borg lately?" the Oracle asked. Apparently, today's subject was confusion.

"You've ensured that I can't," Annika said truthfully.

"But still, you are very wily, Seven." She persisted in referring to her by that name, as if to remind Annika that being a drone was once all she wanted. That's why Annika persisted in calling her "captain," as an indirect reminder of who it was that had struck the first deal with the Empire.

"If there is a way, I haven't found one," Annika said.

The Oracle nodded. "I believe you're telling the truth." She made a subtle gesture with the first two fingers of her left hand. "I've lowered the appropriate jamming fields," the Oracle announced. "I want you to contact the Borg."

"No," Annika said.

"You haven't even given me a chance to explain why," the Oracle said. "Don't be so closed-minded, Seven."

"I'm not going to help you, captain," Annika said.

"We'll see," the Oracle said in a voice that seemed to slither out of her mouth. "Contact the Borg; ask about your son."

Annika felt her blood drop ten degrees. "What's happened to him?" she asked, unable to disguise the fear in her voice.

"Why ask me?" the Oracle said. "The Collective knows."

Annika swallowed. "No. You're trying to trick me; you want me to establish a link so you can do something to the Borg."

The Oracle chuckled. "Now that would be a devious plan. I like how you think, Seven. You could accomplish so much if you would just join with me."

"How many ways can I say no?" Annika asked.

"Just contact them, Seven," the Oracle said. "I'd tell you myself, but you won't believe me. You won't believe that your son separated himself from the Collective, and even now is teetering on the edge of a complete mental breakdown."

"You are a liar," Annika shot back.

"Not to you," the Oracle said. "The only lies I told were to my failed servant. No, Seven; talk to the Borg and you'll see the truth."

Annika's jaw trembled as she fought the internal battle. It had to be a trick, had to be! But Sebastian was all she had left... if the Oracle wasn't lying, and there was a problem, she'd never forgive herself. She screwed her eyes shut and activated the implant.

Annika had readied herself this time, so that she was able to avoid the fear and despair when engulfed by the Collective. The Borg Queen appeared before her, a faint smile on her face. "Hello again, Seven of Nine."

"This may be a trick," Annika warned quickly. "Is there any sign someone's using my connection against you?"

"None," the Borg Queen said. "Why have you contacted us? Do you have more information about the Vong or the Sith?"

"I need information, actually. Tell me about my son. Has he left the Collective?"

The Borg Queen nodded, then filled her in on the details. "I'm afraid that, because he's separated, you can no longer speak to him through us."

"Is he all right?" Annika asked, afraid of what the answer might be.

"In body, yes," the Queen said. "But his mind has been in turmoil of late. Easily angered, destructive, irrational. We are doing all we can, but he refuses our aid."

"What's wrong?"

"He suffered a mental attack by the Vong," the Queen said. "You are aware that Sebastian came to us in part so that he would not have to face the grief of losing his wife and child, yes?"

"I suspected that was the case," Annika said. It was a natural temptation for any ex-Borg.

"Now that he has separated himself from us, he does not have us to shield him from that grief. The Vong seem to have used it as a weapon against him." The Queen fell silent for a time. "Our thoughts were one for a long time, Seven of Nine. Sebastian holds himself responsible for his wife's death, and his hatred for her killer runs deep. I am... concerned... that he may do something rash."

Annika swallowed. "Like his father did."

"Yes," the Queen said, knowing exactly what she was talking about. "He said the Vong attack has 'stirred up' his memories; no doubt that is the cause. Perhaps in time he will be able to again accept events and move on."

Annika knew that pain. But with time, she was able to accept Luke's death, cherishing the memories of the times they had. Even now, the thought of him brought the ache back. To have it resurface, however, in full flower, especially when the time they'd had was cut so short, must be torture. "Are you sure I can't speak to him?"

"Not without him rejoining the Collective," the Queen said, "which he refuses."

"I see," Annika said. And perhaps it was for the best. If what the Queen said was true, Sebastian could be skirting the boundary of the dark side. The wrong word could push him too far.

Annika broke the connection and opened her eyes. The Oracle stood before her, unreadable. "Now you know," she said.

"Is this how you plan to torture me now?" Annika said.

"No, Seven," the Oracle said. "This is the last step for you. You've felt the power of the Dark side, you've learned the passion that comes with it, and you've witnessed its power. Now is the time for you to embrace it... for you to join with me."

"I never will," Annika said. "Stop wasting your breath."

"I can make it all right again," the Oracle said. "I can end his pain... save him from what you fear the most."

"You stay away from him!" Annika screamed.

"Calm down, Seven," the Oracle said. "I'm not going to do anything to Sebastian. I'm going to give him a very rare gift... a second chance."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jorrielle Sunspring Skywalker," the Oracle said. "Isn't it obvious, Seven? I'm going to offer him his wife back."

First post. I always wanted to do that. OK, I'll read now.

Great chapter again. I don't know what to say that I haven't already, but this is my favorite crossover story and it just seems to keep getting better. I might have to reread it from the begining after finals and fall quarter is over next week.

Something tells me that if Sebastian were to turn to the dark side and join the Oracle, Ben would find himself on the receiving end of another skewering, this time without the benefit of a rewind. I rather like the idea. A shame it won't actually go that way.

Then again, this is being written by the man who blew up Coruscant. One can hope for almost anything.

Nice chapter. I must say Janeway is well done, she has gotten rather 'practicle' in her approach to gaining her ends, so it will be interesting to see what happens next.

I might ask where the idea for Roger Roger came from. He reads like the bastard offspring of an Episode I battledroid (replete with lame wisecracks) and Short Circuit.

A battledroid with an "extensible limb"... LOL.

Oh, and the line about Mr. Roger's neighborhood not being so good lately was priceless.